#while also being forced to baby sit my step sister or face the consequences from said abusive dad

[ickypuppi3]

feels very unfair to solely judge billy on how he acted after the move to hawkins

[holylulusworld]

Desperate Souls (4)

Summary: Six years later you and Sam are still a thing.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, former Soulless!Sam x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester 

Warnings: angst, talking about prostitution, dom/sub undertones, angry Sam, hurt & comfort, vulnerable reader, soft Sam, fluff, cuddling & snuggling, jealous reader, implied smut

A/N: A short epilogue to see what happened to Sam and his girl.

<< Part 3

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“But Dean said it’s a good idea,” you argue, fighting Sam’s hold on your wrist. “He said that I should distract the Deputy, no flirt with him to distract him. This way your brother could sneak into the office and get the needed information.”

“Oh, is my brother suddenly your boyfriend?” Sam growls eyes narrowed a little. You swallow thickly, feeling your heartbeat quicken when Sam looks at you like he’s ready to devour you.

“N-no Sam but I wanted to help out,” whimpering you feel his large hands grip your upper arms to push you against the nearby wall. “Sam…please.”

“You’re my girlfriend, mine,” possessively claiming your lips Sam growls against you. “Maybe you forgot your place. Or do you want to go back to being a prostitute? Selling you so easily to someone else to get the result my brother wants sounds like prostitution to me,” hurt you look away, sniffle silently as Sam steps away from you. “I told you that your job is to do research, nothing else.”

“I didn’t let him touch me,” running out of the library you sniffle, wiping your eyes angrily. “I wanted to help out.”

For the first time since you joined the brothers on hunts, you had the feeling you did something useful to help them and now Sam is mad.

“Sam, it was my fault. I saw the way that douche eyed your girl, and thought-“ Sam raises his hand, angrily clenching his jaw. “I get it, she’s your girl and I messed up. But don’t blame her for my mistake. Y/N only wanted to help me out.”

“Y/N could’ve gotten hurt,” Sam whispers, feeling his chest tightening at the thought he could lose you. “She’s my girlfriend and you risked her life. What if the Deputy was the guy killing all the girls? Did you think about the consequences of your doing?”

“I was with her all the time-“ Dean talks back, cursing as Sam turns his back on him, shaking his head. “Sam, I would never let anything happen to Y/N. You know that.”

“I know but we also lost people we tried to keep safe! Charlie, Bobby, Kevin and so on, Dean. Sarah Blake died right in front of us while we tried to save her,” furious Sam turns around to glare at his brother. “And don’t tell me we tried anything, I know we did but things went wrong, and she died. A mother died and we were helpless. I don’t want to lose Y/N.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” nervously rubbing the back of his neck Dean sighs. “Just don’t ignore the poor girl. She longs to have your attention and love. Don’t take this away from her.”

“I know how to handle my girlfriend,” Sam growls. “I’m with her for six years and know she needs my attention and care. But,” he smirks now, something dark in his eyes, “she needs a strong hand and punishment tonight. I could see it in her eyes. Y/N needs to hear me praise and me to punish her.”

“I could’ve happily lived without knowing about your girl’s preferences in the bedroom,” Dean mutters. “Stop talking about your sex life with me.”

“It’s our dynamic, Dean. Y/N needs me to be her dominant tonight, not her caring boyfriend. I’ll make her feel good right now,” Sam walks away, leaves a shuddering Dean behind.

“Too much information, Sammy!”

While you look around the room, unsure if Sam still wants you around you gnaw at your index finger. You’ve got no clue where you can go if Sam kicks you out of your shared home.

Dean is a friend, and you consider him family but he’s Sam’s brother and would never choose your side, even though it was his fault you got into a fight with his brother.

“Kitten, I want you on the edge of our bed, naked, hands behind your back and eyes on me in ten,” Sam walks into the room, exhaling dominance. “Kneel and show me what a good girl you can be.”

“Yes, Sir,” you immediately get off the bed to strip your clothes off. Slow to give Sam a good show. You can feel his gaze on and shiver as he hums in appreciation. All you want is for Sam to not be mad at you.

“You’re so pretty for me,” he husks, fingers sliding over your back, causing you to whimper. “Always so beautiful and warm,” his lips meet your skin, force tiny gasps out of your throat. “I changed my mind. I want you on hands and knees, face in the cushions for me.”

“Yes, Sam…Sir,” you moan feeling his slender fingers slide over your chest to pinch your nipples roughly. “All for you.”

“Good girl,” another whimper leaves your lips, and you feel warm, drifting toward the headspace you are seeking since you and Sam fought. “Now do as I said.”

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you, Sir,” you bite your lip, looking up at Sam with teary eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby girl,” Sam’s postures changes in a split-second. He drops the silky scarf he wanted to use to fixate your hands, to bring you in his arms. “Y/N, I’m not mad at you.” he kisses your hair softly at the same time as his large hand runs over your exposed back. “Please don’t think I’m mad at you.”

“But-and-then-and,” you sniffle, face hidden in Sam’s chest to inhale his scent. “I don’t want to lose you, Sam. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Shhh, baby,” he carefully picks you up to hold you in his arms, smiling when you wrap your body around him. “We won’t do this tonight. I only want to hold you in my arms. I was so worried something could have happened to you.”

“Dean, he protected me, but I understand you worry about me. I’m not a hunter and can barely fight you or Dean.”

“Aw, my cute girl believes she can fight me,” Sam laughs when you whip your head to meet his gaze, holding it, a pout on your lips. “What I wanted to say is, that you don’t have to defend yourself, I’ll always protect you. Promise me you’ll never risk your life again.”

“Promised,” pecking Sam’s cheek you giggle when one hand starts to wander toward your ass. “Sam, I love your hands on me.” you moan.

“Guys! Are you naked or can I come in? Uh-erm,” Dean stammers, “Jody called. She and Donna could need our help with a case. Only if you are up to it, Sammy.”

“Another case,” you gasp feeling Sam’s lips on yours to greedily kiss you. “Aw, no sex then.”

“We will have so much sex after that case you’ll walk funny for a week,” he grins, eyes drifting toward the anti-possession tattoo on your chest. His name stands next to it and he smiles, remembering the way you clawed at his hand when you got it. “Make it a month.”

“A month,” giggling you look at Sam, giving him a firm nod. “Noted, Sir.” you husk against his lips. “Now get dressed and save the day, my hero…”

“I hate this,” you whine, looking at Dean who gives you an apologetic smile. “Why must it be Sam? Why didn’t you flirt with that woman to get information? Now he’s running late. What if he finds her more attractive, smarter, or simply desirable?”

“Sweetheart, you are more to my brother than a pretty face. You know that Y/N,” Dean tries to calm you but does the opposite. “Stop pacing around the room.”

You clasp and your hands together, groaning as you can’t get the image of Sam and the doctor out of your head. She dared to touch his bicep and now, well now you are too nervous to sit still.

“I know he loves me but-“ you bite your lower lip, suckling at it, “Sam is an extremely attractive man, a smart one. Every woman we met is whether all over you or my Sam.”

“Your Sam – huh?” Sam smirks when you look at him with wide eyes the moment he steps into the motel room. “When did you make me yours? And why didn’t I know about it?”

“It’s just you know,” trailing off you watch Sam loosen his tie. “Something people in a relationship say.”

“Good, you’re back. Sammy, never leave with another woman or Y/N will lose her mind. She was chewing my ear off,” Dean snickers when you shoot him a disapproving look. “It’s true, sweetheart. You almost murdered me for not hitting on the doctor.”

“Now you know how I felt when you flirted with that douche to get information for us. I don’t want to see you with other men either, baby girl,” Sam holds out his arms, smiling when you immediately let him wrap you in a hug. “Nothing happened, Y/N. And nothing will ever happen with another woman.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine, snuggling into Sam’s warm chest. “You’re always so warm and I got cold feet and hands.”

“My little frostbite,” Sam pecks your hair, while one large hand caresses your back, tickling your skin. “I guess you must always stay close to me. Not just at the bunker so I can keep your warm and safe.”

“I was jealous when you went out with that doctor. She was so pretty and smart, I feared you could fall for her, Sam,” you admit, sighing when Sam pinches your ass.

“Why?” he smirks when you lift your head to meet his hazel eyes. “I got a perfect girl by my side. She’s cute, a little crazy and I can bend her to my will with my hands.” he purrs the last words, eyes three shades darker when you start to squirm on top of him.

“Sam,” you move one hand over his bare chest, and he shivers at your touch. “Do you want to scare your big brother for a lifetime? Pay him back for telling me to flirt with the Deputy, Sir?”

“Hell…yeah…”

SPN Forever Tags

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

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

@moosekateer13​​

@thevelvetseries​​

@rintheemolion​​

@train-wrecc​​

@neii3n​

[imagine-darksiders]

Just like. Head canons. For our lovely Dad Guys. Whoever you want. Whatever you want. I don’t care. Just. The Fluff Beast. 😫 Getting too strong...! Help! (I’m sorry 😂 Seriously, just do whatever you want. It’ll be beautiful and I’ll love it regardless)

Well, I’ve had this little Eidad fic on the back burner for a while now, sitting in my drafts and not doing a while lot. This seems like a good time to post it <3 <3 <3 

It’s a sick fic. Nothing too drastic, just an old maker getting worried about his human friend. 

---

Eideard has always been an especially unflappable maker, a trait that tends to come with the territory of being the village elder.

He never gets flustered, and he always maintains the poise and composure expected of him.

Unless, of course, one of his fellow makers is under threat. Only then, by his own admission, does decorum fly out of the proverbial window and little else but worry takes over him, mind, body and soul.

Recently, he's come to discover that the same rule applies to a very specific, little human.

----

“I'm cold.”

That ought to have been their first clue.

You're sitting in the maker's forge, seemingly content to remain still and quiet beside the roaring fire whilst Alya and her brother, Valus, are hard at work at their anvil.

“Cold?” the former twin laughs incredulously, glancing up from the sword she's forging to turn and fix you with a raised brow, “You're sittin' close enough to that fire!”

Her brother though, always the more perceptive of the siblings, ambles around her and makes his way towards you, tugging at the green cowl that sits around his neck. You may be vastly smaller than him, but even behind that visor, he can see the shivers you're trying to suppress. Blinking, you watch him as he bends onto one knee in front of you and holds his treasured garment out, uttering a low, almost undetectable whine.

“I'm okay, big guy,” you murmur, sounding far from it, “Think I've just got a bit of a chill.”

At that, Valus doesn't wait for you to reach up and take the cowl from his grasp and instead, with a huff, he leans forward to drape it around your shoulders, his thick fingers tucking it up underneath you as carefully as he can. Once he's finished, he sits back on his haunches to inspect you, satisfied when you snuggle further into the fabric and give him a shy smile.

“Thanks.”

Pacified, the burly maker returns your smile with a nod and pushes himself onto his feet, turning back to his sister and the anvil.

With their attention elsewhere, you allow your smile to fade, burying your face into Valus's scarf. 

You're loathe to tell them the whole truth, that accompanying your chills is a raw throat that feels as though it's been rubbed tender by sandpaper, and an ache in your limbs that only grows worse and worse by the hour.

There's no denying it.

You've come down with something.

At the very least, the makers don't know a lot about human biology, so you're relatively hopeful that you'll be able to pass this off as a mundane occurrence – definitely not anything they should be worrying about.

There is an unspoken rule amongst the giants, one that came about the moment they first laid eyes on you – a small, cowering little thing whose world had been destroyed only a few days prior.

The rule, never spoken aloud, yet understood by all, is that you are a youngling – despite your insistence to the contrary – and younglings are to be protected, especially those who have yet to reach their first century of life. 

It also doesn't help that you're a human, and consequently only stand about as high as the makers' knees.

But for as endeared to you as they all are, there are none who are quite so taken as Eideard.

The village Shaman, Muria, speculates that their elder has seen more younglings and friends die off over the centuries than any of them, and thusly, that's where his protective tendencies stem from.

Thane, on the other hand, attests that Eideard has always been enormously tender-hearted, long before grief softened his edges. 

If he were to find out that you're sick, you can't imagine he'd take it well.

Bottom line? You'd hate to worry him.

Unfortunately for you, there are some things that can't be kept from a group of watchful makers.

It's impossible to hide glassy eyes, tremors that rattle your whole body and a sudden, explosive sneeze that causes both Alya and Valus to jump out their skin, tools clattering to the stony ground.

“Stone's blood! Bit of warnin' before you go makin' noises like that, please!” Alya exclaims, resting a hand over her heart whilst Valus hurries over to you again.

“It was just a sneeze,” you try to protest, but the forge brother isn't buying it. Without a word, which isn't unusual, he clenches his fists and heaves himself about on a heel, marching purposefully towards the forge's entrance, deaf to his sister calling after him.

“Oi, Valus? Where are you off to?”

It's hardly a surprise that she doesn't get a response.

He disappears through the doors and you share a look with his sister, who hesitantly asks, “You.. sure you're okay?”

The fake smile you plaster on your face is apparently as unconvincing as it feels, judging by the flat look you receive from Alya in response. 

A few moments later, the doors swing open once again and your ears pick up two pairs of resounding footsteps thumping through the forge.

Valus appears first, lumbering up the short flight of steps onto the raised dais where he's soon followed by the second maker, a particularly concerned-looking Eideard.

As soon as the elder's pale, grey eyes lock onto you, you slump forwards in defeat, any hope of riding this illness out in privacy now dashed. Of all the makers in Tri Stone, Eideard is the most well-versed in anthropology.

Shooting Valus a glare for his betrayal, you swallow your cough and groan, “Valus, I told you, I’m okay. You didn't need to bother Eideard.”

“I for one, am very glad he did.” From underneath his bushy, furrowed brows, the old maker studies you closely until you duck your head, weighed down by the heaviness of his stare, the whole while, your throat burns with the need to cough. Then, in a blink, his eyes widen again and the fingers clutched around his golden staff turn white as he breathes, “You're sick...”

At once, Alya shoots upright from where she'd been leaning casually against the anvil. “Sick!?” she blurts, her gaze snapping between you and her elder, “Why didn't you say somethin'?!”

“Because!” you argue, hating that Eideard’s face now appears almost twice its age thanks to the worry lines permeating his forehead, “It's not a big de-” As fate would have it, the raw spot at the back of your throat finally chooses its moment, and before you can stop yourself, you're lurching forwards into a vicious cough that burns at the tenderness like acid, bringing tears to your eyes and shame onto your clammy cheeks.

You become vaguely aware of a vast hand coming to rest on your back and fingers that pat you gently until you can catch your breath. Even after you've hacked yourself silly, you push Eideard's silken, blue sleeve away and try to get to your feet, hoping that if they see you standing, they'll be less inclined to fret. But the moment you begin to move, the same hand is cupping around your trembling body and you find yourself being lifted up and nestled against a broad chest by a maker who is wholly undeterred by your feeble resistance. 

“I'm not a baby, Eideard!” you complain, trying to wriggle free as the maker presses delicately on your chest, forcing you to lay across his forearm, “Put me down! I can walk just fine.”

“Easy, now. You'll only hurt yourself further if you keep that up,” he rumbles in a tone that's far too gentle for your pride to withstand.

Embarrassed, you wilt down behind his fingers when you hear Alya's stifled giggles, but the old maker doesn't pay her any mind, simply turns away from the anvil and begins to shuffle down the steps, heading for the entrance. Almost immediately, you miss the fire's warmth and Eideard feels your shivers turn violent, his heart seizing at the sound of your teeth chattering together like rapid gunfire.

“You – you're not going outside, are you?” you croak, pulling Valus's cowl up to your neck, “It's freezing!”

“The weather is perfectly mild. You, on the other hand, are burning hotter than forge-fire.”

You open your mouth to protest but find yourself cut off when he continues, “I’ll not have this sickness turning into something worse. We may belong to separate species, but I wasn't born yesterday. A little fresh air will do you some good.”

“Ugh. You sound like my mum.”

His reply comes in the form of an affectionate, rumbling chuckle that you can feel travelling up through his palm and into your bones. Letting out a final huff, you flop backwards and turn limp in his hand.

It isn’t as though you can fight your way out of the Old One's grip, after all. For such an ancient maker, Eideard is powerful, and his age does little to detract from that strength. The meagre resistance you put up is also proven ineffective by the silken softness of the fur trim on his sleeves that you run between your fingers.

Perhaps if you'd been looking at Eideard's expression instead of the doors as he pushes them open, you'd take notice of the disquiet lingering at the edge of his eyes.

He plans on taking you to see Muria in the hopes that she might have a remedy that can alleviate the fever spreading through your delicate body, and, failing that, he will sit with you in the peace of the night air and keep you still and safe until your tremors cease and his old heart stops trying to beat its way out of his ribcage.

You're more than welcome to resent him for this, he muses quietly, but after seeing so many of his people lost to corruption, it isn't such an easy feat to quell the pervasive anxiety that writhes like an impatient, snarling beast in his stomach, and he would much rather endure your resentment if it means keeping you out of harm’s way.

The village elder is supposed to protect his own, and glancing down at you and seeing that you've buried your face into the fabric of his robe to escape the cold, Eideard realises with a sudden surge of paternal drive, that you fall under the scope of those he considers 'his.'

The old maker clutches you possessively against his chest and hurries as well as his tired legs can carry him up towards the Shaman's gazebo, knowing that his soul will never know peace until you’re well once again. 

[sweeethinny]

Insecurities and loneliness

Summary:

Lily faces problems on her first year, problems that Ginny knows very well and knows that she will need to talk about - almost - everything about her own first year. Things are almost never easy in the beginning.

Thanks to @startanewdream, for the prompt, thanks to @whathefawkes for the incredible help and conversation, I hope you all like it.

No, in my HC all cousins are not best friends, because each one has their own life. Lily is the youngest. She is going to the second year, Albus to the fourth, James to the sixth :)

Read bellow the cut or on AO3

'Can I come in?' James asked, looking a little flustered, his cheeks flushed and his hair a little messy, just putting his head into Ginny's office.

'Sure, did something happen?' Ginny continued to sort the papers into organized stacks, keeping her mind working and still trying to pay attention to what James had to say. It was only a week away for her to deliver that work, and if a comma was wrong, she was screwed.

'Look, I don't like to gossip... well, not like that, at least, but I think there's something wrong with Lily.' As soon as he stopped talking, Ginny had already dropped the papers and stared at her son, big eyes towards him, a little scared.

'What do you mean, something wrong?' James looked at his own feet, seeming to think the exact words, and Ginny hated that he was not as impulsive in these moments as she was, but more rational like Harry.

'Mira realized that... I also noticed... that she is a little alone. Since Rose traveled... She doesn't seem to have friends.' James grimaced, as if he didn't like having to say it out loud. 'I know it's her first year, but Lily seems a little out of place, I don't know. I mean, Louis is out, Rose is older than she, Hugo and she are not that attached, Albus has his friends.. I just want to say that maybe she is feeling a little alone. She was alone all afternoon today, basically, in the living room. Albus is locked up with Scorpion and even when they go to the kitchen, I don’t think they’ll talk to her, and I was with Mira… We asked her out, but Lily said she didn’t want to.’

'I'm going to talk to her,' Ginny assured, thinking that those papers could wait a few more hours. Harry would work until later, and she could take the time to work. Something about her maternal instinct didn't seem to like what James was saying. 'Thanks.'

'You're welcome.' James smiled, waving and running out of her office, leaving Ginny surrounded by silence.

She didn't want Lily to feel alone, Ginny knew what it felt like to be alone and the consequences of that weren't the best. Her daughter was the youngest and her brothers always seemed too busy for her. Lily was the youngest of the entire family. Perhaps the lack of a close cousin and with her age would make her feel more alone than usual.

Of course, Ginny noticed that James and Albus got letters from their friends, but Lily only received a few from time to time from Rose, but she particularly believed that her daughter had found other ways to communicate with friends. Through the mirror, or perhaps, she would send letters but she was only more discreet; Ginny felt like a bad mother.

Leaving her office in the underground, next to Harry's and their wine cellar, Ginny went up the stairs and walked towards the living room, where a loud noise of voices was heard. The room was dark, even though there were still traces of sunlight outside, the curtains all drawn, and the only source of light was the TV on over the fireplace. Lily almost disappeared in the middle of the sofa cushions, lying where Harry used to be. There was a thin blanket on top of her, an empty popcorn jar, empty cookie wrapper inside the jar, and a cup on the coffee table, which Ginny guessed was chocolate milk.

Which made her understand the gravity of the situation and how miserable Lily was feeling, since she only drank hot chocolate when it was miserably cold, or when she was miserable.

The girl's arm was still bandaged, as she had fallen off the broom when she was trying to accompany James on high, and Harry was unable to fully relieve the fall. Lily had been fine, even though Ginny had seen her terrified eyes when the healer said that she would need to put the bone in place and it would probably hurt.

'Hey,' Ginny said quietly, walking around the couch to sit next to the girl, who did not take her eyes off the TV, where now a blonde girl seemed willing to dye her hair black. 'All right?'

'Yea,' Lily murmured, shrugging her shoulders as if she didn't pay much attention to her mother. Ginny smiled sadly.

'James said you didn't want to go out with him and Mira today... did anything happen?' She tried again, lifting the blanket and lying next to Lily, as they used to do before she went to Hogwarts.

‘They clearly didn’t want me to go together. So, I didn't.' Lily continued without looking at Ginny, her glasses reflecting a little of the colored lights that came from the TV.

'Do you want to talk?' This time, Lily turned her attention away from the TV, for a few seconds, looking at Ginny quickly before turning around again.

'No.' Ginny nodded, trying not to take it too personally.

'Do you want to help me make dinner? I thought about cooking that pasta dough that your dad made… Maybe make meatballs?' Ginny knew it was her favorite dish, of course, it wasn't Harry's homemade pasta with meatball, but she could try.

'Why doesn't Al help you?' Lily said, looking at her mother again. 'Or is he too busy?' Lily's sarcastic tone didn't go unnoticed, and Ginny didn't think it was even the girl's intention to make it clear what she meant, but still, it hurt a little inside her. The 11-year-old Ginny seemed to feel the pain that Lily felt.

'Your brothers are very busy, huh?' Ginny tried, stepping on eggs and afraid to end up breaking one, causing Lily not to open up to her.

'Everyone is.' The girl pulled the blanket up to her chin, turning her attention back to the TV.

‘Even your friends?’

'They didn't send me any letters, so they must also be busy.' Ginny wanted to break the main rule that she and Harry stipulated when Teddy started being a tantrum teenager, which was ''give them space to talk when they feel comfortable'', and wanted to hug Lily and ask a million questions and then go up to James and Albus' room and force them to interact with their sister.

But Ginny was steady, taking a deep breath and trying to keep her composure.

'Did you send them a letter?' It seemed that it hurt Ginny more than it hurt her daughter, the monster from the past terrorizing her mind, even if it wasn't real at all.

Ginny knew that eventually it would happen, and that raising a girl would bring out this demon she kept under lock and key.

Dealing with Teddy, James or Albus' insecurities seemed a lot easier now. It was as if theirs didn't hurt as deeply as the ones she shared with Lily.

Ginny knew what it was like to be lonely even with a big family.

'It's just her. I only have one friend,' Lily said, looking ashamed of it. 'And I did, but she didn't respond.' Ginny blew out a breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding, closing her eyes for a second as if she was trying to find the right words.

‘Lily, honey-’

'-It's okay,' Lily interrupted, speaking a little louder, as if she was controlling herself to explode. 'She looked like she was my friend just because of James, anyway.' She shrugged, denying vehemently as if she wanted to forget. ‘Okay, I’m over it.’

‘Lily-’

'-It is true. I'm fine here. Today I saw three good films, and two bad ones, much better than yesterday, that everything I watched was bad.’ She smiled, as if she was trying to be happy. 'Besides, maybe when I remove the sling, I can improve my nail painting technique. The left hand always gets worse than the right.'

‘My love, but are you going to be locked in here?’

'But there's not much to do, mom,' Lily complained, her voice wavering and shaking. 'Rose is traveling, Teddy is away, Albus is always very busy, and James too. Everyone has something to do but me.' Her brown eyes teared up behind her glasses, which was the last straw for Ginny, who hugged the girl as if she were still her little baby, lying trapped against her chest and kissing her forehead.

Her mother's heart, which wanted to protect her children from all harm and pain, broke when she felt Lily's tears wet her white button-down shirt, one arm hugging her back, while keeping the other protected from the grip.

Ginny wanted to be able to feel that pain herself, wanted to open Lily's chest and remove any shadow of insecurity that might arise, with her own hands, to take care lovingly so that she would never doubt herself, and that she would always be happy.

But Ginny also knew that she couldn't do that, not just because of the obvious, but because it would help Lily grow and learn to defend herself. It was necessary if Ginny wanted her daughter to be independent and really sure of herself.

However, it still hurt.

Ginny kissed Lily's head, stroking her red hair, and closing her eyes when the demons themselves seemed to want to visit her, the ones who hardly made any more noise but who occasionally tormented her.

'I didn't have a good first year either,' Ginny started, her voice strangled. 'I also felt lonely and out of place, and a little lost, because I saw my brothers just being my brothers at home and when I got there everyone had friends of their own, and they were famous, and they didn't seem to care much for me.' She laughed sadly, pressing Lily against her. 'But I know they still loved me, they just had their own lives, and I know it hurts when we don't feel inside any group, or when we see ourselves alone, but... You are not alone, Lily. You never will be. It's your first year, everyone who came in with you is also lost, I promise you that, and little by little you will get to know more people, loosen up more, and make friends... This girl? Maybe she really is your friend, even though she likes James.. It’s because he is older, and when we are that age the older boys look much more interesting.’

'But James is ugly,' Lily complained, her voice muffled against her mother's shirt. Ginny laughed softly, thinking about how that sounded a little with a little bit of jealousy.

'Well, maybe your friend doesn't think so. Who knows, maybe she just can't answer the letter? Call her to come here, or to come with us to the Amusement Park next week. What about?'

'What if she doesn't want to?' Lily lifted her head, her glasses fogged and a little crooked on her face, her brown eyes a little red from crying.

'So, when you return to Hogwarts you make other friends. Maybe you meet someone on the train and become friends with that person, who knows? The youngest always go alone, it is a good opportunity to meet someone. That's how I met Aunt Luna.’ Ginny smiled, seeing her smile too. Not a big smile, but a lot better than the crying of before. ‘James was worried about you.’

'James?' Lily's eyes blinked, looking confused by that brother's demonstration. Ginny would have to talk to him and Albus about not leaving Lily alone at Hogwarts, at least for now, while she was still adapting.

'Yes… I know that now he and Albus don't seem to want you around, and I swear, when you get to their age you will also feel that way, but they are still your brothers, and they still love you. Never forget that, okay?’

'Okay.' She nodded, her cheeks a little flushed.

'And me and your father always, Lily, always, we will be here. You can always send us a letter and call us whenever you feel necessary or want to talk. Never think you can't tell us how you feel, okay? Promise me.' The demons who seemed to have woken up with that situation, stirred inside her, as if only the memory of what she lived and the times she thought of telling that she felt something was wrong but was afraid, would make her want to cry again.

It had been a few years since the last time something had reminded her of Tom and made her feel that way.

'I promise.' Lily hugged her, as if now it was Ginny who needed that warmth.

It soothed her in a way, it was like the times when Harry held her after a nightmare, silently promising that it was all over and that she was fine.

'Are you going to make dinner with me? I bought the cookies you like.’

'This is a great way of bribing,' The girl took the blanket off them, dragging herself off the couch. 'But I'm still going to paint my nails.' Lily picked up the whole mess of dishes and packaging, following her mother into the kitchen after turning off the TV.

'Okay, we can do this together.' Ginny smiled, winking at her. 'I love you, my love.' She hugged her once again, taking advantage of the fact that Lily still liked affection, and had not yet reached Albus' age, who seemed to hate showing affection.

‘I love you too, mom.’

'Now, tell me...' Ginny cleared her throat, taking the pasta dough that Harry had made two days ago. 'Mira and James?' Lily's eyes widened, turning away from her and opening the refrigerated cupboard where they kept the meat, looking like she wanted to buy time.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom.’

| LATER |

'Hey,' James interrupted the music Lily was listening to, sitting on the bedroom floor as she arranged the new books her father had bought for her, by color. She almost got off the ground with a fright, looking at the door and seeing Albus and James standing there. ‘How are you?’ The older asked, wearing only an old pair of shorts that were stained with paint. Albus looked as if he had been forcibly pulled out of bed, with messy hair and the old wrinkled Muggle band T-shirt, as well as the shorts he wore.

'Fine. Did something happen?' Lily was surprised, they almost never entered her room, Teddy did, but James and Albus not.

'No, we just wanted to be with you,' Albus said, showing the Explosive Snap box he was carrying. 'Want to play?'

'Hm... yes.' She frowned, placing the last book on the shelf and crawling forward, being followed by her brothers who also sat on the floor, not even complaining about the music she heard.

'I brought you cake, I thought you would want it too.' James reached for a plate for her, a nice piece of the carrot cake that Al and Harry had made the day before. Lily smiled.

'Of course, thank you.' She imagined that her mum might have spoken to them, or maybe - and more likely - James had forced Albus to accompany him, but Lily didn't care much, she liked that they at least cared for her, it didn't matter how they got there. ‘Mom asked me about you and Mira today.’

'What?' James turned, his cheeks incredibly red.

'Oh, James, you were discovered.' Albus laughed, pushing his brother's shoulder with a slight provocation.

'I didn't say anything.' Lily swore. 'You're welcome.'

'Thank you.' James was still flushed, but rolled his eyes when she and Al laughed. ‘I don’t even know why she asked if there’s nothing going on.’

'So can I tell her that I saw you two kissing today?' Albus asked, a cheeky smile on his face, eyebrows raised.

'Fuck off, Albus.' James pushed him back, which only made them laugh even more.

Mum was right after all, Lily thought, filling her mouth with cake and watching Albus tease James even more, they were still brothers and her best friends.

[trashcanwrites]

📺┊ Watching Kids Shows with the Haikyuu Boys!

► Oikawa Tooru, Tsukishima Kei, Hinata Shouyo, Bokuto Koutaro, Tendou Satori ft. Hinata Natsu (GN! Reader)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: I left one or two swear words? Other wise there is none ❤️

『♚ Will's Message』 ▸ Heya!! Here's some headcanons I thought about when me and my sisters were listening to Sofia the First and Barney soundtrack 👁️👄👁️ Hope you guys enjoy! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

This boi just barged into your house saying he wanted to watch Sofia the First with you—

Well I mean you couldn't complain cuz Sofia the First is amazing 🤩

The both of you were just chilling on the floor cuz the couch is for the weak 😤

Once the intro starts playing the both of you guys just start screaming the lyrics

The both of you sound like hyenas dying from being strangled I swear 👁️👄👁️

Like the your neighbors are lowkey higkey concerned

Whenever a character would start singing y'all would start singing too

But the thing is when one of you forgets the lyrics one of you starts singing gibberish

Then the other one starts to get confused cuz like wtf you singing??

The both of you would also start dancing too

Like he's the prince and you're some exaggerated elegant af royal ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)��

He would definitely kiss you hand—

But that's about the only part he's good at cuz the two of you would just step on each others feet and stumble

Oh to be a good dancer 😭

Oikawa's favorite character is probably Amber you can't change my mind

The two of you would argue who's best girl I swear

It's like a war zone when you argue about it you guys will make up eventually

After the marathon the two of you would just eventually fall asleep on the floor after talking about your favorite episode ❤️

You were bored out of your mind so, you went to Tsukki's house to hang

You were feeling nostalgic so...

You forced him to watch Barney with you.

You know how Tsukki likes dinosaurs???

Well he doesn't like this one

Cuz he says Barney's just some 'discount dinosaur'

Probably that one show his parents made him watch as a kid but he didn't wanna cuz he thinks Barney's 'fake' I mean he technically is

I never really thought Barney was a dinosaur as a kid either, I only found out when I was 8

While Tsukki was watching it he looked so... Disgusted

And the fact that you were playing along with the show makes him cringe even harder— 💀💀

Tsukki be like: Why am I with a five year old??

He didn't even know why he let you watch BARNEY FRIGGIN BARNEY at his house when he could have easily said no 🤡🤡

He just wanted the torture to be over

Just when the show was about to end and he could rest easy, the song started to play

And you just started to sing along with it, you even came up to Tsukki to hug him I— 😭✋🏼

🎶 I loVe yOU, YoU LovE mE 🎶 ⊂(・▽・⊂)

He stood up and shoved your face away before you could do it cuz he's had enough of your shit today 🙃

After that you felt bad for him putting up with your idiocracy so you promised to do whatever he wanted

You best bet it was some sort of mental torture equal to the one you put him through—

Natsu said she wanted to watch a show with y'all 🥺🥺🥺

So you did

She picked Winnie the Pooh

I swear it's probably her favorite cartoon—

Bby Natsu wanted to sit next to you while you hugged her 💕

While big bro Shoyou sat in next to you!!

Lmao Hinata would probably get so bored, he doesn't like Winnie the Pooh apparently 😔

But he tries his best for his sister

His favorite episode was the one where Pooh got stuck in Rabbit's 'door' so they had to pull him out

But then when they did pull him out he got stuck in a hole in a tree filled with bees 👁️👄👁️

It made Hinata laugh his ass of

He said it reminds him of Kageyama??

And Natsu was laughing too cuz if her big bro is happy she is too and you just sitting there giggling holding Natsu

Bruh I swear the Hinata siblings are next level wholesome

Natsu would definitely have a crush on Christopher Robin 😤

Like whenever he shows up on screen she would blush and just look at her dream guy 💘

Hinata probably doesn't notice or know cuz he's dense LOL

But you do 👀

Once the marathon is over you told Natsu about what you found out—

LMAO SHE FREAKED OUT AND MADE YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL

You just smiled at her...

THEN YOU STARTED RUNNING TO HINATA

Natsu was chasing after you telling you not to do it

But then Hinata heard and he was like: w h a t ?

Natsu tried to ignore you for the rest of the day while Hinata went up to you to complain about it 😌

Bo was hyper today you asked him to watch Scooby Doo with you to calm him down ❤️

He is so determined to solve the mystery

You guys bet on who's the culprit

Lmao Bokuto would defend his choice so much

Like he would give a lot of random reasons as to why he chose them 👁️👄👁️

And you would just be like no

Then he would just argue even more

When you guess right he just pouts at you and looks away

If he's right he does a little victory HEY HEY HEY like he's all happy and jumpy

The loser has to put hot sauce onto whatever they were eating, they eat the food at the end of the marathon

You were the one who picked the consequences for the bet—

While y'all were watching the both of you were just screaming like wtf

The screams aren't even cuz your scared it's just cuz whenever there's a new clue both of your big brains theorize who's the culprit

And then the two of you just shout what you guys thinks gonna happen and there would be some sort of debate 🙃

Bo's favorite character is Shaggy 🥰 I dunno why I just get the feeling

In the end the two of you had to eat the food you guys filled with hot sauce

It looks red af btw

Bokuto just straight up ate it all like it was so fast

And you were looking at him like ಠ_ಠ

You ate yours and your mouth was on fire—

You had to drink gallons of water cuz there wasn't any milk 😔

Someone reserve the bathroom because one of you two would probably blow any minute now—

Bo rushed in first

But then you had to go in too so you did the little pee pee dance outside while you were waiting

Overall 100/10 would do again 😌

You and Tendou planned to hang and watch a show

It was your turn to pick a so you chose Teletubbies—

Tendou went 😊 to ☹️

Like he was just so happy when you came and the you tell him your watching TELETUBBIES with HIM

He just wanted you to watch it alone at this point

But y'all promise to hang so he let you watch it 😤😤

The whole time you two were watching he was just complaining about how obvious their questions were

He's just there arguing at a tv know it won't respond to him at all

You just stare at him like 👁️👄👁️

He was so annoyed lmao

Then you would tell him it's a kids show

But then he's like: then why are we watching this?

It's for nostalgia purposes I swear

It's not like you purposely picked it to mess with him or anything

The mans kept pestering you to watch something else cuz he just can't take this torture 😭

He really doesn't like the Sun

He says it looks weird, why would you put an actual baby's face as the sun??

It laughs and everything

At one point he just had enough and grabbed two pillows and shoved it in between his head

He didn't wanna hear any of it anymore HAHAHAHHAHA

He even went as far as to constantly poke your face and tell you to 'make it stop'

In the end you two didn't finish it cuz he was complaining a lot and you two ended up watching Don't Breathe 😔

I lowkey was scared of Teletubbies as a kid

[padawan-jiejie]

My Choice [3 / 3]

Summary: You are Anakin’s twin sister and Mace Windu’s apprentice with forbidden kind of interest in Master Kenobi. You’re there to witness your brother’s turn to the Dark side and have trouble dealing with the consequences. Five years later, you visit Obi-Wan on Tatooine…

PART 1   |   PART 2

Word Count: 5.8k

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Warnings: !MyEnglish!, ptsd talk, talk about regrets, angsty!reader, but also comforting!Obi and fluffy!Obi and baby!Luke + one more character has a cameo and overly fluffy ending  the reader is a bit of a crybaby in this one, sorry

A/N: THIS TOOK ME SO LONG - I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE!!! Also I haven’t read the comic about Obi-Wan and his time on Tatooine so… I just hope all of you are doing the best you can and enjoy 💖💖💖

Tagged:  @retrobhaddie​ @multi-madison​ @treestarrrrrrrr  @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13​ @lysawayne

Five long years since the tragedy of the Jedi. Since their failure and the purge. After all those years, here you were. Flying in your stolen ship, fleeing away from your inevitable destiny. You ran out of supplies and had to take a break, stop somewhere safe. You had a planet in mind, it was close and you were certain no one from the Empire would be looking for you there if you don’t stay for long. It was the hole of the universe after all. But somethin- no, someone was calling for you to land there. So you set the coordinations to Tatooine. You used your connection to the Force to find the perfect place to hide your ship nearest the pull you sensed. You shut down all systems and took a deep breath. For the first time in years, you would step into the harsh, dry and sandy grounds of the planet you were born on. It wasn’t your home for a long time and you felt bitter and nostalgic looking outside. Yet as you were sitting there in the cockpit, you saw a familiar cloak walking towards your position from behind a mountain. At that moment, all your worries and doubts faded like a mist.

You ran out as fast as you could and stayed staring at the figure few feet away from you. Your heart was beating quickly from the excitement and when he pulled his hood off and looked directly into your eyes, it definitely felt like coming back home.

“Y/N?”

“Obi-Wan…”

Your voices were nothing but a whisper. A whisper that told a million words and more. Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing there in front of you and it was like yesterday when you said your last goodbyes. And he was stunned. He came to the conclusion that it was very likely he would never see you again in his lifetime after Order 66. He never quite made his peace with that and couldn’t believe in what was happening. He thought he was hallucinating. There you were, in all your beauty and grace. Your y/h/c hair was messy, y/e/c eyes red from fatigue and your brown robes dusty. Even like that you still managed to look as elegant as always.

Kenobi took a hesitant step towards you, fearing that you might disappear any second. You didn’t. He took another step closer and you jumped into his arms.

“I’ve missed so much, Obi-Wan!” You blurted out as tears of joy started streaming down your face. You held onto him tightly and sobbed and cried your heart out. As he came to reality, he too embraced you and buried his face in your neck. It wasn’t just a dream. You were indeed here. In his arms. Right where you belong.

“Y/N… I am so happy you’re actually here. You can’t imagine how bad it was being alone like this!” He lifted you up and spun around before putting you back on your feet.

You dried your tears, while he was holding you close to him by your waist. “Master Jedi, I… You… Just… Me…” You spent hours thinking about all the things you wanted to talk about with him but now as you finally had the chance to express yourself, your own mouth was failing you. You could not even make up one proper sentence.

“I-I’m… Umm… It’s been so long.”

“I know, I was afraid I would never see you again. I’m so glad that will not be the case.” He said with a blissful expression. You smiled at him and he kissed your forehead, sending a warm feeling to rush through your body.

“Obi… I could sense you. With the Force, I sensed you. I think.”

“I sensed you too. That’s why I came. I thought I was losing my mind. What would you be doing here, right? But now I see that my senses have not abandoned me yet.”

“No, they are still pretty decent.”

“Oh, decent you say? Well, what are you doing here anyway? I guess you’re not just stopping by to say hello to an old friend.”

“Actually, I ran out of supplies so I need to get some food and stuff. And I think I need to check this beauty for any damage.”

Obi-Wan frowned and touched his beard. “That is not the ship Bail Organa had given you. What happened to it and how did you get this one? It looks ancient.”

“Yeah, you really don’t wanna know how I got that. Maybe I’ll tell you later but it’s a long story that I don’t wanna get into right now.”

“If you think that would be for the best, I’ll leave it be. But come on. We’ll go to my little house and I’ll get you something to eat.”

“That would be so nice! I am starving! Um, but I shouldn’t leave her here unguarded.”

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing will happen to it. Trust me. And if anything does happen, I have my methods of getting it back.”

“Alright then. But um, I actually call her Soka. Because of the blue and white stripe there on the side.” Obi-Wan paused for a second, then smiled. With one of his arms around your shoulders, you two walked over to the house that he was apparently now living in. The place looked poor and you couldn’t help but think about the Jedi quarters you spent half your life in.

“That’s a whole another level, Kenobi. Even for you.”

“There wasn’t really much to be picking from.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get you some soup.”

You sat down near a tiny window and pulled your legs to your chest. The heat reminded you of your childhood. How you used to help your mom with cleaning, cooking and then would go to play with Anakin and the other local children. Looking back at it now, you could tell that as much as it sucked, those were good times. Just you, your mamma and your big brother Ani. You signed at the thought, pictures from the past running through your head. Padmé, the handmaidens, Qui-Gon and young Obi-Wan with his cute padawan braid. He certainly did not enjoy it when you hopped next to him and started playing with it, asking him questions why is he letting grow only so small piece of his hair. A sad smiled appeared on your lips as you remembered the moment you met. He didn’t really believe in neither you or Ani and none of you could see how important you would become for each other. What a wonderful team you would make in the future. It wasn’t fair that it all fell apart out of nowhere.

“Here you go,” Obi-Wan said, holding out a bowl of soup, waking you up from your trance.

“Thank you.”

After you finished your meal and your stomach felt better and you and Obi-Wan were sitting next to each other, both trying to get a grasp of this situation. You haven’t seen each other in 5 years and it didn’t look like you accomplished much. Quite the opposite. Former Jedi Master looked dragged from his current life, you could see the wrinkles forming on his face. He looked a lot older now. For you, it was your eyes. Obi-Wan remembered how they would always light up whenever you had some crazy idea or simply when you were happy and oh, how he loved your smile! Your eyes had a sparkle in them whenever you smiled or laughed. Now? Your eyes felt cold, tired and filled with sorrow. As if you’ve grown tougher during the time of your separation. He pointed that out.

“That’s because I had to grow up. Suddenly I had no one to look after me and as you know my entire life I had someone by my side. Whether that be my mom, my brother or my master or… Padmé or you. Life had been hard on me, Obi. That’s just how it is. In my core, I feel the same but on the outside, I lost a lot of my faith. But don’t play it on me. You’re damaged too.”

“I am not denying that.”

“Speaking of which, how do you like living on Tatooine?”

He laughed. “Like isn’t the word I would use. More like tolerate. But as you can see, I manage. Nobody’s visiting but sometimes I go to check up on Luke - much to your step-brother’s distaste when he notices me.”

Obi-Wan would swear on the Force that as he mentions Luke’s name, for a split second your eyes filled with that spark he thought you lost. Maybe you weren’t that doomed after all.

“Luke? My nephew? How is he? Is he tall already? I mean, I know, he’s 5 but is he okay? Are they taking good care of him?”

“Not to worry, milady. They are maybe too protective of him but he’s not actually lacking anything. He’s in good hands.”

“What does he look like? Does he have brown hair like Padmé or is he blonde?”

Obi-Wan was amused by your interest in your nephew. He knew you would ask him about Luke but he didn’t realise how eager you would be to find out more about him. “As far as I am concerned, he is blonde. He’s just like his father with blue eyes and I am sure he’s going to be an excellent pilot. Not like someone.” He gave you a side-glace and you looked at him in disbelieve. Is he really challenging me like this?

“Of course! Make fun of my flying skills! You know, I got better since the Clone Wars and I no longer crash-land as you could see back there.”

“I am never going to forget the moment when you almost killed us while landing and Anakin turned at me and said: ‘See, master? And you complain about my flying!’ I will always remember the face you made! And you didn’t want to talk to us the entire day.”

“You two totally deserved it! Don’t try to sugar-code it!”

“Silent treatment never resolved anything, Y/N. Besides, you could have us all killed.”

“No, we are not going down that road. I did save you so shut it, Jedi! I too have some tricks up my sleeve - you are not as perfect as you think you are.”

“Oh is that so? I thought I was being completely irresistible!”

Your body unintentionally reacted with a flush on your cheeks to his statement. Mostly because it was absolutely true and thanks to the fact that you ran out of ideas of how to out-sass him, you just proclaimed: “Okay, I give up.”

“And what were you doing this whole time? I suppose, you still don’t want to tell me the story behind the ship.”

“Well, no. But I was mostly just moving around the Outer Rim. Nothing too special. I wanted to stay off the radar for as long as possible and I think I was quite good at it. You know, putting my stealth-mastery into practice once again. You wouldn’t be proud of me though. I tried to be true to what I was taught since I was nine. To be a good person and to protect peace in the places I went to and I tried to suppress my emotions about all this but… I couldn’t do that. I thought that the Republic were the good guys and I thought that the Jedi, although not exactly always right, were too the good guys. We had each other’s back and now all of that is gone and call me stupid or naive for having hart time adjusting to that. Sometimes it just gets too rough and too much to take, knowing that all of what I was fighting for tumbled down… I’m sorry, it’s just been getting to me lately.”

Obi-Wan put a hand on your shoulder. “I understand. It wasn’t easy for neither of us but it was worse for you. I know how miserable you were when Yoda told you that you should stay out of Luke and Leia’s lives.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s bothering me.”

“What is it then? I am here, you can talk to me about anything. I might not have the solution but I am listening. If that’s enough?”

You were tense. How would you tell him this? How were you supposed to say it out loud? You could still see it in front of your eyes and it was haunting you in your dreams. Never in a million years would you thought that this would happen. After all that you’ve been through you thought he knew better and a part of you still felt like he didn’t deserve it. You closed your eyes to calm yourself down.

You swallowed. “Have you felt… something? Even if it was just in the back of your head…Do you know anything about Anakin?”

Now Obi-Wan knew what you meant. His hand rubbed your back as he sighed. He heard about him a couple of weeks ago. Anger, sadness and helplessness were boiling inside him. He thought Anakin died on Mustafar and when he overheard that Darth Vader was actually causing some problems out there in the Galaxy, he was horrified.

“I found out some time ago. I couldn’t believe it.”

You bit on your lip to stop the sobs coming out from your throat. Salty water blurred your vision. Your heart was aching. You somehow always felt that he wasn’t killed, the feeling of your brother was still present but to learn that he is now a huge threat in the galaxy was not only shocking but also tragic and traumatizing. You blinked and teardrops fell down. You quickly brushed them away and took three deeps breaths.

“Forgive me my sentiment but… It’s hard to deal with that because I remember all those times during the Clone Wars and despite the fact that it was a war, it was actually… Some of the best time of my life. We lost our friends, we were shaken and not once and we risked our lives for a better cause and we were heroes thanks to that but we… We had each other. Me, Anakin, Padmé and you. Even Ahsoka and Rex and Cody! It felt like a family. Yeah, a very dysfunctional family but… It was something to let you know where you belong… Where home is. If I wasn’t on a mission with Ani and Snips, I’d be with Padmé or you, just having the time of my life. It wasn’t perfect but if I knew what was to come, I would certainly more appreciate it then! Now I just…” You covered your face in your palms, crying. “I wish I could just forget that this is happening.” Echoed your voice from behind your hands.

Kenobi felt your despair and pulled you into him, letting you cry your feelings out while holding you in his arms. He himself didn’t exactly process the events yet, but he knew that you needed his support right now much more than he needed yours. He waited for you for five long years and he was ready to wait for next 50 if it meant he could see you one more time. Now he didn’t want to make your issues seem smaller because he felt betrayed too. He wanted to help you get through this so he kept on rocking you back and forward until you looked up. He caressed your cheek and lightly kissed your forehead. He was well aware of what your supposed family meant for you so he decided to let you feel like you still have at least a part of it. Because you do. Dispite his Jedi teaching, he would never let you go.

“Tomorrow I’m going to take you to see Luke. Owen will probably throw us out but if it is going to help you, I’ll take you there.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, Y/N.”

You melted into his embrace and listened to his heartbeat. He was a soothing presence to you. He’s always been. After getting over your depressive emotions, you found a warm feeling creeping up from inside you. You buried it deep down so it wouldn’t bring you pain while you and Obi were apart. As you were so close there, it was coming back up to the surface. This time, though, there was no Code, no Jedi Council, no forbidden attachments to make you feel wrong about what you felt. Obi-Wan sensed this change in mood and smiled to himself. He felt it coming back too.

After you both showered - separately, may I add, we’re not there yet - and changed into more comfortable clothes, you decided to go to sleep. He insisted you keep the bed to which you replied: “Obi-Wan, there’s no way you’re sleeping on the floor and I want to feel like I am not alone in here so just… Are you up for cuddles? Please? I need my cuddling buddy back.”

He just shook his head in amusement and didn’t say anything. He couldn’t reject you at this point. Not to mention that when you were together on missions to deal with some Jedi business with no one around, snuggles were on a daily basis. Although I must say, there was one time when Anakin appeared out of the blue, saw you two getting way too close for friends and wouldn’t shut up about it for a week. It was kind of cue though.

Obi-Wan tugged himself under the sheets next to you on his not-so-comfortable bed and lay on his back. You put your arm around him and placed your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady and calming. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t close your eyes to fall asleep. You had to wonder what is Luke like and what will you feel when you see him. You held him once when he was born and couldn’t help but wonder if he is Force-sensitive too. It would be only logical.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Umhm…”

“Do you think that Luke and Leia should be raised to be Jedi?”

“Well, I hope so. I don’t know about Leia but Luke is so much like Anakin when he was a child, it would surprise me if he wouldn’t grow up to be one.”

“Who’s going to show him?”

“I am. If you’ll stay, you can help.”

You tighten your grip around him. “I don’t know. The problem is that I and Ani had such a bond through the Force and I still feel him and I fear that if I stay here, he may be able to find me.”

“Why would he come back to the planet that represents everything he despises? Slavery, his mother’s death, sand.”

“I know but he had the chance to kill me before as a Vader and he didn’t. What if the Sith have some plans with me? What if they want me to turn to the Dark side?”

“I highly doubt that would happen.” He protectively put his arms around you. “Mace Windu taught you about the Dark side and when they could turn you to it completely, they had no interest in doing that. Why would they suddenly change their minds?”

“I don’t know. I guess you’re right but the possibility of hurting you or Luke is making me go nuts.”

“I understand that but again, Anakin knew that even with your knowledge of the Force and with our feelings for each other being strictly against the Code, you stayed loyal to the Order. Even now when things are so uncivilized, you still decided not to turn, that shows your strength and even if Vader senses you, he will see that.”

“You mean he would rather kill me than try to turn me? Yeah, cool, can’t wait.”

“You know what I meant. You don’t need to worry about him. If he comes, which he won’t, he’ll have to get over me first, anyway.” He kissed your hair and whispered: “Good night, my love.”

You spent so much time in space and on cold planets that now walking around the sands of Tatooine was an absolute horror. You were sweating and thirsty and the two suns high on the sky were blinding your vision. You and Obi were on your way to Owen and Beru’s moisture farm. You never saw or met them but Ani told you about them. He blamed them a little bit for not searching for Shmi and you couldn’t help but feel the same. You were sure they were good people but at the same time maybe if they did something more, your mom would be still alive. You knew these thoughts were not the Jedi way but let’s face it, you and your brother were never the perfect examples of the Jedi.

Obi-Wan stopped and pointed into the distance where you could see a small dot on the horizon.

“That is where they live but maybe you should go on your own. Owen isn’t really fond of me and if you arrive alone and say that you are his step-sister, he’s probably gonna let you in. I’ll wait for you somewhere here.”

“Okay. Thank you, Obi-Wan. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome but umm, I changed my name.”

“You changed your name? To what?”

“I call myself Ben Kenobi now.”

You sighed. “Satine used to call you that.”

He just nodded and you smiled at him. She meant so much for him when they were young that you understood why he did that. He wanted to pay her some tribute. Besides, you would have done the same if you were at his place.

“Well, Ben, wish me luck.”

He squizzed your hand and started to walk away. You swallowed and walked the other way, towards your distant family house. You were nervous and excited at the same time. You desperately wanted to meet Luke but you didn’t know what would Owen and Beru think about you being there. As you almost reached your destination, a sight in front of you made you stop in your tracks. There was a little blonde boy sitting in sand playing with some droid parts. He didn’t seem to notice you so you stood there amazed. He looked exactly like his father. You felt tears of happiness mixed with nostalgia burn in your eyes. You covered your mouth as Luke’s toy fell apart and he mumbled under his breath. You sniffed and made your way to where he was sat.

Luke turned around startled. “Hello. Who are you?”

“Hi…” you whispered, gaining strength to speak more. “Umm, you’re Luke Skywalker, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. But I asked you first.” He made a grimace of childish anger and you had to smile. You dropped to his level and held out your hand. “My name is Y/N Skywalker.”

His expression changed. Obviously he knew that name and kept on wandering his eyes between your hand and your face. 

“You are my dad’s sister?”

You nodded.

“Uncle and aunt told me about you. They said you would never come.” He took your hand and held onto it.

“I am sorry. For everything. I am so sorry, Luke. You were supposed to live with your parents somewhere else and enjoying your life very differently.”

“I like it here.” He was genuine but you knew that one day this place would be too tiny for him.

“Okay.” You stroke his cheek and you sensed the Force in him but he pulled away.

“I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

That hurt. You were a stranger. He didn’t know you and even if you loved your nephew so much, this was the first time he saw you.

“That’s right, you shouldn’t. I hope that one day I won’t be a stranger to you anymore but for now… It was lovely to meet you, Luke.”

“Sure. It was lovely to meet you too, umm…Should I call aunt Y/N?”

“That’d be great.”

“What would be great?” 

Both your heads shot up as you heard a voice. There was a man with scruffy in grey robes and he looked mad.

“Luke, come here.”

“It’s okay, uncle. This is Y/N. She’s my dad’s sister. You told me about her.”

You stood up and Owen frowned at you. He shook your hand, though he was suspicious.

“Luke is telling the truth. I am Anakin Skywalker’s sister and just came to say hello. I never had a chance to properly meet him and I stopped by and I couldn’t go without meeting my nephew. You too. From what I understand, you are my step-brother. Thank you for taking care of the boy.”

Owen crossed his arms over his chest. “Kenobi told you where to find us?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I’m glad that we finally met but I don’t want your Jedi stuff anywhere near Luke. His parents had life bad enough and I don’t want him to get hurt like they and you did.”

You blinked confused. You sensed Luke’s connection to the Force and you knew he would become aware of it sooner or later. “We got burned. Many times, I admit but neither Ben Kenobi nor I mean any harm to him or to you.”

“I believe you. On the other hand, why add insult to injury?”

A sandstorm was raging outside. You were supposed to be on your way by now but something always came into it, making it impossible for you to leave the planet. You’ve been living with Obi-Wan for 9 days now and as much as you were scared something unfortunate was going to happen because of your sibling bond, you couldn’t deny how your mood improved over time. You finally had a moment to breathe, to live, to drop the worries because when he was around simply being himself, it was so easy to forget the reality. It would come back to hit you later but when he was telling you stories, he heard in the Mos Eisley Cantina and you two would laugh, it didn’t matter. When you two cooked and tried to combine both of your (anti)talents, sometimes it resulted in friendly arguments and spilt tea. At night, you would fall asleep in each other’s arms only to wake up to the warmth of the body next to you and the calming feeling of safety. If there would be anyone to witness it, they’d say they’re watching a married couple doing normal things. It felt right being there, being like that, although it was a bit strange at first. It made you feel wanted, welcomed and loved. It gave you a sense of much-needed belonging. Little did you know that Obi-Wan felt the same.

It was already late at night but you couldn’t sleep and the sandstrom made you feel uncomfortable. It had been 15 years since the last time you experienced one and you didn’t like remembering it. It brought up old fears to the surface. Lucky for you, though, former Jedi Master managed to stay up as well to keep you company.

“Will you finally tell me where did you get the ship?”

You smirked. “From a friend.”

“A friend? What friend?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I am not! I am just… curious.”

You turned to sit on the bed face to face with him. “We’re not the only survivors of the Purge. There are more Jedi in the galaxy.”

“I knew we couldn’t be the only ones!” His eyes filled with hope.

“I met a guy called Kal Cestis. He was a padawan when it happened. He helped me to get my new ship. Not exactly new but better than nothing since my original one broke down.”

“Hmm… Interesting. Do you know anything about Ahsoka?”

“Unfortunately no. I haven’t seen her anywhere. Not that I’ve been to many places but if she’s alive, she’s hidden well.”

“I don’t think she gave up like that. She must be somewhere out there.”

“I really hope that she is. I miss her.”

“We both do,” Obi replied and caressed your cheek. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. It was an intimate moment that you decided to delve into.

Obi-Wan was watching you, trying to print this image in his memory. He never wanted to forget you and the way you made him feel. It was precious and sacred to him. You were captivating, graceful and he was thanking the Force every day for bringing you back into his miserable life. He didn’t deserve you and yet he never wanted to let go off you. He couldn’t. He knew it was selfish of him to want you all for himself but he was too attached.

“Y/N?”

“Um?” You opened your eyes to look into his. You were cantured by his intense gaze and your lips parted. You weren’t used to him staring at you like that as if you were the most devine creature in the galaxy and your cheeks turned the deepest shade of pink.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your stomach flipped and your held your breath for a second. You blinked several times before placing your hand over his, still resting on your cheek. “Yes.” was a simple word but there was so much more behind it.

Obi-Wan lowered his head to your level and cupped your face to pull you to him. You couldn’t believe it. After so many years of loving this man and having to hide it, you were able to finally express it. You waited for him to softly press his lips to yours. It was sweet, slow and filled with so much emotion. All of the unsaid ‘I love you’s, all of the suppressed feelings, all of it finally blossemed into this special moment. Electricity ran through both of you at the slight touch. It was new and you couldn’t quite put a finger on this feeling inside you. It was your first kiss after all! Obi-Wan was your first crush, first love, now first kiss and most definitelly he was going to be your first also in another way.

He pulled away to see your reactions but you didn’t let him. Your hands shifted to his neck and brought him back to you. He started kissing you properly this time and let himself loose. Deepening the kiss, he found himself hovering over you and soon you were lying under him. You both laughed as your back hit the bed. He kissed you one more time and lay down onto his side next to you. You stared in his eyes that reflected all the kindness in the world.

“Y/N, I know where you stand, I know Master Yoda told you to stay away from Luke and Leia and I know that you’re afraid what would happen if you stay here longer but please. We’ll figure it out somehow… I love you, Y/N. I have for years now.” He brushed your hair out of your forehead and played with it for a while. “I can’t let you go after this. I won’t. I wanted to be with you for so long and now that we are finally allowed to be ourselves freely, I am begging not to go. Please.” 

“I have already made up my mind and I am not backing up.”

He kissed the tip of your nose to shut you and took your hand in his. “Yes. It is up to you in the end. I can’t make decisions for you, I know. I don’t want you to go but the last thing that I do want is to be forcing you into something. Even if you'll leave… I promise that I will wait for you. I have waited ages, I can wait a little longer. I’d really rather not but you are worth it, stars.”

“Obi-Wan…”

He smiled sadly and it broke your heart. He was giving you freedom even when he was lonely. He was fully aware of your stubborness but this time you gave in.

“You are the love of my life. You’ve always been. I have loved you so much all this time and I always will. I want to stay but I am too scared that something’s gonna happen to you or to Luke so I… I thought about it and…” You squeezed his hand. “I decided to cut myself of from the Force so that I could have a life with you.”

“What?!”

“I have made my peace with it. I am like a beacon to Vader if he decides to search for me, this is the only way I can have what I want. You.”

Obi was staring in disbelief. You just decided what your faith was going to be and Obi-Wan was the happiest man alive. He was shooked at first but soon happiness and pure joy took over him and he hugged you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You pulled him even closer to you as you let the sandstorm outside be completelly forgotten. 

It’s been about a week since you and Obi were living officially together in your new home. It wasn’t ideal nor perfect but hey! What is in this galaxy, right?

You were walking hand-in-hand from a town where you successfully sold your ship, Soka. It was a little sad since she reminded you of your adveture with Kal and of your friend Snips but at the same time, you were most likely never going to need her again. Hopefully.

The two suns were shinning bright, tanning your skin. The course and rough sand was cracking underneath your weight as you walked. The dry air made you thirsty and at some point you couldn’t help but cough. You two were wandering around the place without putting much thought into it and before you knew it, you pauzed.

“Won’t we reach the spot were you first landed on Tatooine if you continue walking that way?”

“I think we will.”

“So this is where it all started. The Skywalker’s journey straight to the botom!”

“Not straight.”

You gave him a you-know-what-I-mean look.

“I’m just teasing. Sorry, Y/N.”

“You always are, I don’t mind but... Actually, you know what? I think I want to change my name too.”

“What? Why? Your name is so lovely!”

“Because it is my choice, not yours, mine. I guess I want to asociate myself with something different. I want to disconnect from my past and focus on the future. Luke’s gonna carry on the Skywalker legacy. It wouldn’t fair if no one carried on yours. Besides, Y/N Kenobi sounds pretty great, doesn’t it?”

Obi-Wan was staring at you with open mouth. “You want to take my last name?”

You put your arms around his shoulders. “I do. I mean, you’re not getting married but still you can take this as a sign of my devotion. I truly, deeply love you and I want to be all yours - body, soul, even the surname.”

He didn’t know exactly how to react to that, so he just crashed his lips onto yours. He was astonished. “I love you so much, my sweet Y/N. You are the greatest thing that happened to me. Although not the name, I am yours too. Body and soul.”

You pulled him into a tight embrace. People passing you by were giving you strange looks but it’s not like any of you cared. You simply stayed in the moment, forgetting all your worries. It was a promising day for you two, after all. Promising for your relationship but most importantly it meant a new start. It was an enterance to a brighter state of existance and a new stage in life. A stage where you could finally be a little selfish and build a life for yourselves. A life where your and Obi’s love, was the only thing that mattered.

[bangtan-gal]

Cupid’s Game

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader, Han Jisung x Fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 Word Count: 4.9k  Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, a pretty soft chapter overall. The fun stuff comes next chapter  Soulmate!AU Fantasy!AU Cupid!Hyunjin A/N: I apologize if the explanation is confusing, I clear it up better next chapter 

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!” 

Your smile wasn’t nearly as wide as your counselor’s as she lead you into her office. For the past seventeen years of your life, you had to deal with these stupid yearly counseling sessions. She acted as your therapist and advisor, trying to help you understand the world you had been born into. But once you turned eighteen, everything changed. Now,  your main goal was supposed to be finding your soulmate and living life happily.

Unfortunately for your advisor, you weren’t actually trying.

The logs you’d given her for every monthly evaluation had been faked. You hadn’t traveled around, paid extra attention to especially cute people, and you had completely ignored any “tugging from the depths of your soul.” Sure, there had been times where it felt like your heart literally jumped, but you never felt this unpreventable need to find the apparent love of your life. 

You handed her the folder once again and then followed your same old routine of collapsing into the recliner chair and checking your nails as you waited for her to confirm your adventures. While your log suggested an exciting life, your life was really anything but. You were focusing solely on your classes, using your status to move ahead with ease. Most people like you—stupidly called doxies—were well-known celebrities and were doted on by everyone.   They had no talent, no job, no degree, absolutely nothing with merit, but yet they still had more recognition and money that everybody else.

The reason your “kind” even existed was because of the close destruction to humankind hundreds of years ago. After chemical warfare that took over the whole planet, the human race was almost completely wiped out. And when extinction was right around the corner, someone or… something proposed the idea of perfect couples. The first doxies were created, quickly fell in love, and had children that were stronger. The being who created these people was called a ‘Cupid’ and from there, the society you lived in today was created. 

Every time you thought of it, the more insane the idea became. It didn’t matter how many times it was explained to you. Doxies were born with perfect genes, along with the mutation factor that caused them to feel extremely connected to another one of their kind. Because of the perfect genes, their children became better with each new generation and somehow, it created a world that was mostly peaceful and united. 

There were many theories as to why the creation of doxies kept wars to a minimum. Some believed that the children they had were born with lower violence tendencies. Others thought that it was more of a psychological game: everyone had to believe in the Cupid, so the main cause of war disappeared. Or that since doxies were so worshipped, it gave humans a better thing to do than to brutally murder one another. 

Simply put, you were born to be an incubator to perfect little babies and it was the last thing you wanted to be.

You looked up from your nails, watching as Leila turned through the last few pages of your log. Normally, she would be smiling as she read over your pages, but there was an unimpressed frown on her face. You bit your lip, hoping that she wasn’t expecting you to “do more.” 

“You know,” she hummed, letting the folder flutter closed, “I’m not an idiot.”

You opened your mouth, but she talked over you.

“Y/N, I can tell you haven’t done anything. I know you haven’t done anything for the past seven months. You’re not my first client, my dear. I can tell when someone is faking,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was silent for a few seconds, brushing her hair from her face before she looked at you. “Although I am not a doxy, I can understand your disposition against this whole ordeal. But, you have to understand something.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, indignation starting to flare up. Leila leaned over her desk, her blonde hair falling across her face as she did. She didn’t flinch at your narrowed gaze, just met it with a calm one of her own.

“You are playing with higher power my dear,” she whispered. There was evident fear in her voice and it started to unnerve you. “I know you don’t want to be forced to love someone, but the problem is that not only is the government strict on this whole ordeal, you also have the Cupid to deal with. Yes, doxies are given wealth and fame beyond imagination, but they are more strict with you than anyone else.  

“You haven’t experienced it yet because you are so young, but Y/N, if you haven’t found your soulmate by the time you’re 21 and announced your marriage, the government will come after you. I think it’s stupid too, but as stupid as the whole idea is, the human race does rely on the mixed genes of two doxies—”

“But, we’re no longer worrying about extinction!” You argued.

“There are things you don’t understand!” She shouted, standing up. Her hands slammed on the table. “You think I got this job because I got some psychology degree and minored in Cupid studies? I got this job because the government decided I was trustworthy enough to know what’s really going on with this whole soulmate getup!” She sat down, burying her face in her hands. You sat there, stunned. It was hard to say what shocked you more: her shouting at you or whatever she had just revealed. What was it that you didn’t understand? Was the human race still fighting extinction? Chemical destruction? Leila cleared her throat, adjusting her shirt and patting her cheeks. Her face was bright red. 

“Y/N, unfortunately, I am in no place to tell you of what is going on, but I suggest you actually start looking for your soulmate. Because if you don’t: everything your family has gained because of your genes will disappear. They will disappear. You will be taken into custody, the government will find your soulmate for you, and you will lose any chance at the freedom you had before.”

She handed you back your faked log, blue eyes sad. Once you took the folder, she motioned you to leave, and you wearily did.  Your stomach was rolling. Your family had been in poverty before you’d been born. It was your existence that put dinner on the table and a roof over your head—but now it was more than just your existence—it was your cooperation. You didn’t need Leila to elaborate on what exactly freedom meant; you had a sickening idea of what losing it meant.

You sat in your car, watching as people passed by. Your fingers traced the tattoo on your wrist: a branding you had been given at birth. A branding that defined your whole life. The branding that took away your chance to truly live: find love on your own, make friends, fight your own struggles, and not live your life with someone always watching you. People always recognized that mark: smiling at you, congratulating you, sometimes even going as far as to bow. You thought of the mandatory checks you had at the police station when you were ten and fifteen. 

With a huff, you started your car and drove away. Part of you just wanted to keep driving to see how far you could go and where you could get lost, but you knew better than that. The first thing you’d been warned of when you turned fifteen was that you would always be watched. You learned that quickly, because any little thing you did to act out, you had to have a serious talk with some man in your house. He never told you of any future consequences, he would just always say that you were a vital part of society. You always figured that it meant you were a role model to regular humans, but now you started to question that. Was humanity still fighting extinction? Or is there a bigger role that doxies play?

You pulled into the driveway and climbed out of your car. The home you lived in was big enough to house seven families, but only four of you lived there. Five if you count your dog. You stepped inside and didn’t bother to say hello as you walked to your room. 

You wanted to be alone, but that plan was changed when you noticed your younger sister sitting on your bed. She was flipping through a magazine and glanced up as you sadly slumped onto your bed. A huff escaped her and she closed the magazine.

“What are you pouting about now?” She asked, tapping your head. You rolled onto your back, crossed your arms over your stomach, and stared at the ceiling. 

“I absolutely have to find my soulmate,” you muttered, “they’re forcing me to.”

She tilted her head at you. “You act as if it’s a bad thing that you for sure have love out there.”

You frowned. 

“I don’t think you understand how much it sucks to have your free will taken away from you,” you grumbled. She rolled her eyes, laying down beside you. The two of you were silent for a few more minutes, both of you just staring at the old glow in the dark stars on your ceiling. They glowed faintly in the dusk light. 

“You didn’t lose your free will, Y/N,” she said, “think of it as if it’s a fairy tale. You have true love out there, but every decision you make up to that point and afterward is your own. Plus, your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect match. That’s how the Cupid pairing works—it’s not like you’ll be miserable.”

“Maybe the Cupid messed up, I’m a complicated person.”

“Everybody’s a complicated person,” she snapped and then rolled onto her side to stare at you. “What about your soulmate? What if they want to meet you? What if love is the one thing they need in their life, what are they going to do if you refuse to be found?”

You smiled bitterly at her.

“Why do you have to sound so smart?”

She smiled back at you. Her hand found yours and she squeezed gently. She tucked her head against your shoulder. 

“And if it doesn’t work out perfectly, all that matters is that the cameras show a happy couple right?”

That’s what you used to think—that your life would become a reality show. But there was more to it than that. You had to have kids and raise them right. You had to contribute to society. You had to be happy with your life and play by the Cupid’s rules. 

But laying there, letting your mind run, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that. No one had seen the Cupid in hundreds of years. Who was to say that it was still alive? Why should you live your life like a game that was created by some dusty creature that hadn’t been seen in centuries?

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

A year passed slowly. 

Nothing exciting happened in the year. You turned nineteen, got a job, and continued to work towards you goal of becoming a lawyer. Leila still saw you once a month, looking thoroughly unimpressed by every fake log you handed her. But she no longer fought with you and it seemed that she’d also accepted whatever fate was to be bestowed upon you. She would mutter about the government and the Cupid and how things are looking down for you. 

But for all her worrying and muttering, you didn’t see any problems. You weren’t given any warnings or had any talks with some official in your house.They didn’t seem to be paying attention to you and it felt like you were free to live your life. 

The only thing you forgot was that your soulmate could find you. 

Fall was nearing and the days were growing slower. The air was crisp and cold. You were walking your dog through the park, lost in your own world. School wasn’t going as well as you had hoped—your grades were falling and quickly.

You weren’t given much time to worry about your grades though. A finger tapped your shoulder and  you came face to face with a boy. He was near your height, his hair a dark, messy mop, and his eyes were deep brown. You froze when his hand dropped from your shoulder and skimmed over your fingers.

“You-you’re—” 

“Do you mind?” You shrieked, forcing yourself out of the stupor. You moved away from him, keeping your hand pressed to your chest. Your dog stirred nervously at your feet, uncertain of what to think of the stranger. 

He blinked. 

“You’re my soulmate,” he breathed. You pursed your lips. Fear started to creep over his features at your silence. His hands started to fidget at  his sides and his teeth dug into his lip. Doubt started to cloud his eyes. “I-I mean, it feels like you are.”

His hand pressed over his heart. 

You held your breath for a few seconds and closed your eyes. This was it; this was your chance. Your chance to prove that your life is your own and you didn’t owe it to anybody to fall in love with this boy. You let your breath out.

“I’m just going to get this over with: I am, but I don’t want to be. Love is a choice, a feeling that’s not forced upon someone. It might feel like we love one another, but we don’t,” you paused, your eyes finally opening to meet his, “and I’m not going to try and pretend. The government can screw their… what stupid game this is.”

He was silent, his eyes searching yours. Whatever strength that had been in you started to wane. The hurt, the fear, and the confusion in his eyes was enough to make you wonder if what you were doing was really right. If the government was watching: you weren’t only getting yourself hurt. He was going to get hurt because of you too. 

You didn’t even know his name.

“Look, I’m so—”

“Well this doesn’t seem right.”

You blinked, trying to find the  body of the voice. But as you continued to, your vision started to swim. The world spun around you and your whole body started to give out beneath you. You stumbled, reaching out your hands blindly to catch your fall. 

You managed to catch yourself, but everything around you was quickly changing. There was a distant sound of your dog barking and the feeling of a light breeze, but it swiftly faded. The cement turned to marble, the cold turned to a perfect temperature, and the smell of hay and dead leaves was replaced by an indescribable scent. Like your mother’s cooking or the smell of Christmas.  You glanced up, staring at the place you were in. Pristine quartz walls rose up high to a completely glass ceiling. Not far in front of you, two large, dark double doors were shut. There was a strong urge pulsing from deep inside to open those doors, but you were unable to move, scared of whatever would happen. 

“What the hell?”

You jumped, glancing over your shoulder. Your soulmate sat on the floor behind, his expression similar to yours as he took in your surroundings. Your heart dropped as the two of you made eye contact and the worry in your stomach grew. ‘You don’t even know what you’re dealing with Y/N.’ Not only had you gotten yourself in trouble, but your stubbornness dragged an innocent boy into the mix. 

Several minutes passed with the two of you just staring at one another. You were fighting the urge to cry, realizing that whatever was happening, what was about to happen, was entirely your fault. Your chin pressed against your chest and you covered your mouth, eyes pinching shut. Maybe you should’ve listened to Leila and your sister. You could’ve just accepted the truth: that your life was laid out for you the second you were born.

“Hey”—an arm was slung over your shoulders—“don’t cry. It’s going to be fine; we’ll be fine.”

You shook your head. 

“You don’t understand,” you gasped, “I’ve known the consequences of what would happen if I continued to fight my life. I got you dragged into this because I couldn’t just accept it.”

You looked at him, eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re not in for anything good.”

Just then, the doors swung open. Loud footsteps echoed throughout the building. Your gaze moved up, watching as a boy—seemingly close in age to both of you—strut towards you. He wore a completely white silk jumper, with a light brown belt, and a dusty pink cape fluttering from his shoulders. His black hair was parted very far to the left, his eyes were just as dark as his hair. His skin was fair, such a contrast to his dark hair, that it looked close to white. His cheekbones were high, his jaw was sharp, and his body was lean. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. Han Jisung,” he hummed. His eyes ran over the two of you with something close to disdain. You watched him warily as he moved towards you.  He stopped once he was directly in front of you, slowly crouching down.  His fingers delicately grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Shivers ran down your spine as his gaze carefully traced your face before he moved on to stare at Jisung.

Then, as if he had been shocked, he pulled back from you. The boy stood up and backed away. Your body was shaking wildly, completely out of your control.  It had felt like a thousand tiny sparks had erupted when he touched you. It was a feeling of sheer power and you felt powerless next to him. 

“Are the two of you going to continue to sit on the floor like peasants? Come on, we have much to talk about,” he commanded, snapping his fingers. Jisung and you exchanged looks before the two of you rose together and hurried after the boy. 

The further you walked, the more amazed you became by the place. Your fear started to become replaced by awe as you walked past crystal walls and star-filled ceilings. The marble floor became darker and darker until you were walking on a smooth, black tile. Potted plants lined the walls, all sorts of flowers spilling over the pots and filling the air with a smell that was unlike any floral scent. 

Eventually, you stopped walking. The three of you stood in a simple room. A leather couch was pushed against a wall, a coffee table placed a few feet in front of it. None of you sat. Instead, the three of you stood, staring at each other. Finally, the mystery boy spoke.

“I am what you assume me to be,” he murmured, “a Cupid. Although, humans have a very… different ideas of what Cupids really are. Specifically being that there is no one cupid and that we are definitely not immortal.”

“Huh?”

You wished you had something more intelligent to say, but you were wavering between a mixture of fear and awe and it was messing with your mind. This place was amazing, but the way you got here and the boy in front of you were not something to take lightly. Before, the Cupid had just been some invisible thing that only existed in stories whenever people talked about the war.

“This might take a little more than I thought,” he groaned and then snapped his fingers. Your heart leaped and the next thing you knew you were sitting in a black armchair, the room around you dissolving into a more office-like place. The boy sat down across from you. “My name is Hyunjin. I am a Cupid.

“You see here, everything you think about Cupids are very, very wrong. The whole ‘soulmate’ get up has existed since the beginning of time. We’ve been creating perfect pairs for as long as we can remember,” he explained. He paused, watching the two of you carefully. When neither of you spoke, he continued. “Every couple has been put together by us. We work in the way people originally thought Cupids to be: shooting arrows at people when they meet and starting a love between them. Now in the past hundred years, a ‘different kind of human’ has come along. That was not our doing—that was the chemicals released during the war. Believe it or not, most of these perfect humans are not paired with others the same as them. Cupids put people together whenever they feel a spark between two people.”

Your mouth opened and closed, your mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. Because all you were hearing was that everything you told as a child was a lie. Of course, you weren’t sure if you were happy exactly over the idea. Oddly enough, it helped that the reason you were forced to love somebody wasn’t because of some perfect genes you were born with. 

“And Y/N,” Hyunjin said, his eyes meeting yours, “you’re not forced to love anybody. Many arrows don’t create a romantic relationship, but a very good friendship. Cupids were created for the sake of creating happy relationships.”

Your eyes narrowed as he continued to explain, but as he slowly finished up, you found your anger starting to dissipate.  There were still many questions that were floating in your mind, but there was a small form of clarity blooming in your mind. 

“Wait a second,” Jisung spoke up, “why are we here? Why are you explaining this? Like—it’s nice, believe me, but… I’ve never heard of this before.”

Hyunjin leaned back with a sigh. “Yes, that’s probably because we seem to be in a situation we’ve never stumbled upon before.”

His lips quirked up a bit as his eyes moved from Jisung to you.

“The arrow hit Jisung, but for whatever reason, I was unable to get Y/N.” Hyunjin watched you carefully as he started to roll up his sleeve. He showed the two of you his arm and your mouth dropped. While you had a number tattooed into your arm, you had also been born with a very dark, interestingly shaped birthmark on your stomach. 

The same exact shape was on Hyunjin’s wrist. 

“I believe that Y/N and I have several things to discuss,” he muttered, laughing to himself as he rolled his sleeve back down. “But for now, I think it’s best the two of you get settled. As much as I wish I could just send you back down to Earth, some things need to be figured out before you do.”

Hyunjin then proceeded to lead the pair of you to a room and left you there. It was a large room, but there was only one bed. You found it ironic that he was only just saying a few minutes ago that no was forced to love somebody else, but he was putting the two of you in a room together and claiming he had no others. In a place as big and majestic as this, you could imagine there was a hundred of bedrooms. 

But either way, you refused to act childish and give him the satisfaction of watching you squirm. The two of you agreed to share a bed, but you quickly noticed that Jisung seemed more uncomfortable that you did. He was fidgety as the two of you lay in bed, both of you clearly unable to sleep, but neither one saying a thing. 

Jisung broke the silence.

“So you’re telling me that when we touched… you didn’t feel anything?” He asked quietly. You shifted, glancing over at him. 

“No?” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing. “Was there something?”

His hand slowly reached for yours, his fingers curling over yours. His hand was shaking as he did so and once your skin made contact, he gasped softly. It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, there was a light dancing in his eyes.

“It feels like there’s sparks going off between us. It-it just fills my body every time and its so hard to ignore. My heart starts racing and butterflies erupt…” he trailed off, a sad tone filling his voice. You felt genuinely bad. There was no way to say that you would never like him back, but at the moment, you felt nothing for this boy while he seemed to feel more than just a vague liking for you. 

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand, “don’t lose hope, okay? Everything is really confusing right now, but once we get out of here and understand exactly what is going on, the two of us can figure it out, ‘kay?” The more you thought about his explanation, the more worry started to worm its way into your stomach. Your mind ran back to when Hyunjin touched you: how it felt like electricity was running through your body and taking over your senses. The way he had pulled back, a shocked look on his face;  something wasn’t right. 

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

You woke up before Jisung with only one thought in your mind. Hyunjin knew more than he was letting on. Whether it was a tactic to leave you in the dark and play with you, or to spare Jisung’s feeling, you didn’t care. You had questions and they were going to be answered, whether the boy wanted to or not. 

The place was not easy to navigate. There were hundreds of halls and stairs and many of the rooms looked the same. It was by pure luck that you somehow managed to make it down to the and found Hyunjin. He didn’t look surprised to see you.

“Good morning,” he hummed. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, sitting down across from him at the table. You pulled your shirt up, pointing to the birthmark on the low left of your stomach. “What exactly does this mean? Who are you? Why couldn’t you hit me?”

He took a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Y/N, you seem to think that I have more answers than I actually do. I have a few ideas, but those are much different than knowing, aren’t they?” He paused. His face was  swimming worriedly as his eyes zeroed in on the mark on your stomach. You let the shirt fall, shifting in your seat. “It-this concerns me deeply. I am… truly not sure. The ideas I have worry me because it would mean that other things are at work that I cannot control.”

“Could you stop being so fucking cryptic?” You snapped, slamming your hands on the table. Hyunjin didn’t even look remotely startled. His eyes just settled lazily on you again before he sighed.

“I fear that either another Cupid has… shot both of us somehow or that the universe folded once again.”

“What—”

“The universe folding is an expression we use to explain that something has fallen out of our hands. Every now and then, people are born with soulmates already chosen for them. Although that incident is also out of our hands, it truly only worries us when it happens to a Cupid,” he muttered, his voice growing quieter and quieter. You froze. Hyunjin frowned. 

“Are you trying to tell me… that we’re soulmates?” You squeaked out. Your face was burning bright red. This couldn’t be happening. Life was already too complicated, but this was just thrown at you so viciously.

“There is one way to tell.”

You were at attention immediately. You nodded, hoping to prove that whatever was happening was just fake. That the two of you having the same birthmark was just a crazy chance. Hyunjin stood up and walked towards you. Everything moved fast, too fast for you to stop it. His fingers moved your chin up and his lips pressed down to yours. For a second, you didn’t want it, but as his lips started to slowly move against yours, you started to melt into him. The moment you let yourself fall into the kiss, sparks erupted where you touched. Fire started to spread through your body and you were happily letting it consume you.

Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him closer and pressing yourself tighter against him. Hyunjin stumbled and he struggled to catch himself. He failed and fell against you, the two of you falling to the ground.  He pulled away with a gasp, his body heaving. His eyes were dilated and you were certain you looked the same.

“Holy shit,��� he muttered, his body shaking against yours. “That-that was…”

“Crazy,” you whispered.

Your body was still alight at every place the two of you touched. Part of you tried to force yourself to hate it, but you couldn’t. It was like a rush; a drug that was stronger than any other. You were fighting the urge to just dive right back in. 

Then your mind went to Jisung and all the sparks disappeared. Your body went cold and you pushed Hyunjin away. Your eyes pinched shut. There was so much that you had to work out. If this was what Jisung felt every time he touched you, how were you supposed to reject him? It was addictive. 

“I can’t believe this,” you huffed. You looked up, staring at Hyunjin. 

“What kind of game did you people just throw me into?”

[anonil88]

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar. 

 "Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

 "Beep beep ghost busting in my,

 Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing.  Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and  fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road. 

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches  closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day. 

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window. 

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her. 

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach. 

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

 Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers. 

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes. 

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car  until  one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons. 

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes. 

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

[katcadecascade]

A Late Atlas Ball prompt fic

Title: They Dance Across the Darling Rooftop Wreck

Summary: An Atlas ball isn't something Qrow is prepared for. He wants to go to spend time with his kids and Clover, really he does.It's just that none of his wardrobe is fancy-schmancy due to the fact all his shirts have an opening cut in the back.Cause yah know, wings and all that jazz.

Ao3

Chapter One: everything you do

When James announced that they’ll have a ball to celebrate the Amity satellite’s completion, Qrow honestly thought he was joking. But no, good old Jimmy doesn’t joke about coordinated events at Atlas’ elite standards.

The kids’ high enthusiasm and giddiness is expected, immediately making plans to get new outfits but Qrow can’t quite share their feelings.

He’s a bit of a mess of anxiety as he tries to move away from his kids’ happiness filling up their lounge and media room. The furthest couch seemed like the best place for Qrow to just huddle into his wings and quietly sip his tea, wallow in a festering scramble of thoughts believing that this dance will be terrible idea for him.

Before more misery could snatch his will, the couch’s weight dipped as Clover sits next to him.

“Hey,” he begins gently, “I don’t think your tea’s doing its job right. May I?”

Already he reads Qrow too well, something that Qrow actually appreciates. Qrow sets his mug on the side table and scoots closer to his boyfriend, arranging his large wings carefully. Much to his embarrassment, Clover ends up wrapping his muscly arms around Qrow’s small waist to bring him into his lap.

After a bit of shifting to get comfortable, Qrow leans his head against Clover’s face.

“What’s wrong, baby bird?”

“I don’t really do dances or balls,” he admits.

Sure there were a few Beacon dances but back then his wings were smaller, easier to manage under his cape but unfortunately these feathery appendages decided to get bigger. It was hard enough to constantly alter his shirts to have a gap for his wing bones back then.

His huntsman outfits were always specially tailored to protect his back while also leaving an opening for his wings. Yet that detail is also prioritized for the sake of him being in the field. Off missions, it was always up to Qrow to patch up casual shirts or go bare.

Since this is Solitas, the second option isn’t recommended. Well only for Clover in their bedroom but aside from that Qrow’s been wearing shirts where the buttons line up his back. It’s simple and practical but not at all the standard for a ballroom.

So it’s understandable that Qrow does not own any sort of fancy ass outfit that takes account of his faunus traits.

Black feathers ruffle at the thought, basically projecting the root of his issues to Clover.

“Dances can be lame,” Clover assured. His warm hands soothing Qrow’s lower back. “Don’t tell James but the last party he hosted wasn’t too smooth.”

“Then it’s a good thing that Weiss and Winter are in charge,” he mumbled, letting himself relax into Clover. His wings fold inwards, reminding Qrow of what’s been clouding his mind. “I don’t really have anything to wear compared to whatever they got.”

One of Clover’s hands travels up to trace at Qrow’s jaw, “You don’t have to force yourself to go.”

“I know but,” his eyes flicker over to the kids and their commotion, “I want to be there with them. It would be nice right?”

His hesitation rang out with the tiny budding hope inside of him. For years he missed out on Ruby’s and Yang’s childhood for missions or hangovers. Now with a few months of sobriety under his belt, Qrow has a better conscious to make efforts in spending time with his family.

He prefers video game nights or cooking lessons over ballroom dances but still, it sounds like a good time.

“It will be,” Clover promises, “and maybe I can even sweep you off your feet.”

Qrow flicks Clover’ ear and tried not to scoff or laugh, “In your dreams, lucky charm.”

That only makes Clover hold onto Qrow tighter, brushing his fingers through his dark hair, “Too late, you’ve already stepped out of my dreams and into my life. No way am I letting you go.”

The way Clover trails kisses down Qrow’s neck sends his feather fluffing uncontrollably.

“Sap,” he huffed before digging his hands underneath Clover’s shirt, wandering his nails across the taunt skin.

Right as Qrow kissed the crown of soft brown hair, one of his kids shout, “Really? Right in front of my salad?”

“Nora, this is my salad.”

Nora rephrases, “Really? Right in front of Blake’s salad?”

“Alright we get it,” Clover got a secure grip on Qrow’s back and his thigh before he stood up.

Qrow had to loop his arms around Clover’s neck and warp his legs around the torso too. “Geeze, give me a warning, Cloves.”

His wings flapped once to regain balance but Clover had practice on picking up Qrow by now.

Clover winked, “I told you, Qrow, I wanted to sweep you off your feet.” As he carefully walks them out, Clover whispers to his ear, “I also look forward to dancing with you too.”

Dancing, right, that’s something that happens in a ballroom.

Oh gods, what has Qrow signed up for?

That night he decides to procrastinate on thinking on solutions or dwelling on failure. Clover is a helpful distraction, the best by how tenderly he holds Qrow, how intense his lips and devoted words are. It’s all something Qrow never thought he’d ever want, passion without consequences, commitment without pity.

It’s just Qrow and Clover and he will do whatever he can to keep each other.

And that includes going to some dance.  

He still doesn’t have a plan on what to wear so Qrow doesn’t know what to think when Marrow shows up at his door later in the week and announces, “Come on Qrow, we’re going shopping.”

There was no time to argue because Marrow was giving him puppy dog eyes.

It wasn’t as effective as Ruby’s but the results were the same. Qrow was helpless against bright eyed kiddos.

Marrow takes them down the humble business streets of midtown Mantle. The entire place has been newly constructed after the Grimm invasions that preluded the elections.

Long story short and one corrupted elitist CEO arrested later, Robyn got her council seat and finally got a real talk with James to truly fix the issues between Mantle and Atlas. Sure there’s still a shit ton of problems that can’t be solved in a few days but apparently this ball is to celebrate the achievements so far.

Qrow still can’t imagine Robyn agreeing to this. Flaunting money doesn’t seem like her style. Then again, it’s a party where the doors of Atlas academy are open to everyone in Atlas and Mantle. Maybe this is more than a dance, a peace offering or proof that things are changing here for the better.

Perhaps Qrow’s issues are minor to it all, that his silly worries are nothing to the whole political agenda or whatever.

“Are you okay?” He snaps his faraway attention off of the sidewalk to Marrow. The younger man gives him a nostalgic smile, “Your wings are drooping.”

Just like with Marrow, Qrow’s faunus traits would often emote what he’s really feeling. He quickly flexes his shoulder blades, fixing the wings back up.

“I’m just…” Qrow doesn’t want to admit something so blatantly obvious but he has to ask, “This ball is going to be a big deal, isn’t it?”

Marrow blinks at Qrow like he’s dumb, “Well duh, everyone wants it to be real.”

Now that wording makes Qrow even more confuse, “Be real?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “We all need something big and finite to finally get that this is really happening.”

“Okay, so this dance is big and finite.”

Marrow rolls his eyes, “Atlas loves a good party.”

“You’re right about that.”

The dog faunus huffed, “It was the best way to supplicate the masses, yah know?” Something serious and thoughtful eludes from Marrow, his past sarcasm or immaturity gone as he says, “Smile big for the cameras, really show off that things are alright now and that we won’t fall apart because we are finally in a better place than ever before.”

Qrow’s lack of response makes the silence deflate whatever energy Marrow had just now. He buries his face in his scarf out of embarrassment for venting.

“Wow kid,” Qrow manages to say, “You’re right.”

A smile peeks out of the brown scarf, “I know.”

“Were you always so…”

“Sage like? Wise? Academic?” All suggestions and baits for his ego by the looks of his wagging tail.

“I was going to say worried,” Qrow shrugged, “but yeah, all those things too.”

Marrow scratched his neck, “I try not to worry too much but it comes with this life doesn’t it?”

He’s not talking about his career, Qrow instantly knows.

Life as a faunus in a high end society is nothing to brag or shrug about. Qrow only got his popularity through his huntsman skill and even his teaching job if that’s not hard to believe. But that was in Beacon where Qrow had his sister and friends and even Ozpin.

Here in both Atlas and Mantle, it must have been a wild story for Marrow to become an Ace Operative. Constantly observed in and out of the uniform and with a faunus trait he can’t hide, Marrow must have dealt with a lot of scrutiny in his years.

Unintentionally or not, Qrow walked Marrow’s pace and brushed his wing against Marrow’s back. Where words fail him, he hopes that this gesture would be a comfort.

Marrow sends him a wryly grin, far too similar to Clover’s. “Huh, you do have your cute, touching moments.”

A wing flap aimed at Marrow’s head.

“Hey!”

“Oops.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Marrow waves off, “We’re here.”

They stopped at a store front decorated with reds, whites, and greens. On the glass windows reads the shop’s name, Northern Hyrule Designs and Seamstress.

Upon entering with the door’s little bell, Qrow tries not to groan at the sight of a fancy dress and suit shop. One side has racks of dresses, the other suits, the back is an entrance way leading to the dressing rooms where Qrow sees a three paneled mirror in the back. But smacked dap in the middle of the shop is a raised circle platform he hopes he doesn’t end up modeling on.

So far there’s only one employee in attendant or behind a door labeled for the staff.

“Hello, welcome!” A woman behind the front register greets them. She waves a clawed hand, sharp black talons matching the feathers blanketing her forearm. Near her elbow, the feathers have an orange hue.

“Hi Pito,” Marrow greeted and then whipped his head around the room searchingly, “Is Maddie here?”

As if summoned, a blur of pink and black jumps out of a circular clothing rack to latch onto Marrow’s leg, tugging at his winter coat.

“Mar!” A little girl chirped, her shiny grey beak nuzzles against the young man’s knee.

“Hey, Maddie,” he pats her brown hair, careful for the pink bow framing her face. It’s pretty cute how it matches her dress. “You dressed up for a party?”

“No, felt like being pretty in pink,” she trills and easily slides her hands into Marrow’s big ones. The kid has no personal space as she stands on his boots to physically walk her over to Pito.

The woman has a loving and aspirating look that only a parent has, something too relatable to Qrow, as she claps her talons, “Madeleine, you can’t tackle all of our clients.”

Maddie’s shoulders slumped, “Okay Mama.” She then peers up to Qrow and shouts, “Uncle!”

An undignified squawk betrays his composure while Marrow laughs sharply.

“Hah,” Pito smiles reassuringly, “my brother also has wings, greyer but that doesn’t stop Madeleine now does it?”

“Uncle,” she insists again, moving over with grabby hands but her mother guides her off that path, likely used to this habit.

“Maddie, sometimes you can’t surprise someone with a hug,” Pito lectured. She turns to Qrow with an offered claw, “Hi, I’m Pitohui and this is my daughter, Madeleine.”

“I’m Qrow,” he shakes her hand, “so, um, I’m guessing Marrow brought me here for your expertise?”

Qrow glanced over to some of the models at the window, noticing all had a defining faunus trait and wore a classy outfit.

The seamstress begins to explain, “I design and make alternations for outfits according to any faunus’ needs. Personally half of my business profits from my brother’s vanity but I make it a goal to make every faunus in Mantle feel as glamorous as any other Atlesian.”

“That’s a nice goal.”

Madeleine exclaims, “My goal is to sing like my uncle!” She looks to Qrow expectedly, batting her eyelashes.

Geeze, too many kids are good at melting his heart.

Qrow quirks a smile, “I’m sure you’ll be the best singer in Atlas.”

“I’m telling Weiss you said that,” Marrow teased.

“She won’t believe you.”

“So,” Pito cuts in, as a parental authority tends to do before two idiots start bicker, “what are you both looking for?”

“We’re here to get some new suits,” Marrow answered, already sliding hangers on their racks to examine the suits.

“Speak for yourself,” Qrow said, “I think a dress would be better for me.”

The younger man stared at him for a few seconds before confirming, “You’re not joking.”

“Nope.”

“In that case,” Pito has a kind smile as she leads Qrow to a rack of dresses, “let’s get started.”

They spend a good while looking around. Qrow would occasionally look at the suits but truly a dress is more to his preferences. Marrow sticks to the suits but sometimes Qrow would catch him peeking over to the prettiness of the skirts.

Eventually it occurs to Qrow that some of these clothes are pricy. Right, this is a business aimed towards fancy events.

“How are we paying for this?” He asks and ties to do math in his head regarding his paychecks.

“Oh right, the General saw me this morning,” Marrow reaches into his coat and hands Qrow an envelope. “This is for you.”

Flipping it open, what falls into his hand is a credit card under James’ name.

Huh, he could get used to getting spoiled with money but right now he’s not. Qrow was never a big spender, only got the bare necessities since he had to travel light. The tiny card feels too golden and clean to be in his hands.

“Don’t worry,” Pito winks at him, “I’ll give you a family discount.”

“Uncle!” Agreed Madeleine.

The little bird girl has an armful of suits and takes Marrow’s hand to pull him to the dressing rooms. That just leaves him and Pito to talk shop.

It’s kind of obvious that whatever Qrow’s going to wear it’s gonna be backless.

Cause yah know, wings and that jazz.

Plus, Qrow looks good in a backless dress.

He tries on a few different styles, from gown-like to modern. Because of he’s seeking professional help Pito had him on the raised platform and rolled over a full body mirror.

With each dress, Qrow gets more and more comfortable to seeing his reflection.

If clothes make the person then Qrow is practically ethereal and awing even to his own eyes. The skirts he wore in Beacon are child’s play compared to Pitohui’s designs. Each one is soothing to the touch, quickly adjusted for his wings and all are beautiful in their own right.

This current dress in particular is a bright shade of red that goes more into Ruby’s palette than Qrow’s but all over there are black threads weaving in looping designs into the fabric.

The collar is snug against his neck, thankfully not itchy like he hoped. The material is soft to the touch, connected to the collar and it dips over his chest in a pentagon-like shape. It wraps around his back to tie a large ribbon underneath the base of his wings. As for the skirt part, it’s a slanted cut to show off his left leg thigh and its ends nearly touch the floor.

Half of his mind is wondering what’s gonna be Clover’s reaction. Likely praises and kisses. Okay now more than half of his mind is thinking about that.

Qrow is unintentionally successful at making his cheeks match the dress.

“Ooh,” Pito cooed, “I take it that this is the one?”

He finds himself nodding before a chance to reconsider but he doesn’t dare to have second thoughts.

“Well,” he ends up saying, holding up the tail end the dress, “Can you shorten this part? I don’t want to risk tripping over it.”

“No problem.”

Marrow exits a dressing stall, a flattering blue suit vest emphases his waistline but he keeps fixing the rolled sleeves of the white undercoat.

He hums an impressed tune to the bird, “Wow, I honestly didn’t think you’d look good in a dress. I just never thought it would work.”

“What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t make you learn new things,” Qrow said. He studied his figure in the mirror as Pito worked with a measuring tape for the skirt.

The red dress shows off his silhouette, curves and dips in a smooth wave that he vaguely acknowledged with his regular clothes. His muscles add to his features, a strong contrast that brings a depth of both beauty and power in him.

His wings flair out and he can’t help but shift around, see the different angles on how the large things work with the dress. Everything looks too good to be true, elegant even or graceful. Qrow spent years not caring too much on his appearance, just shucked on whatever shirt he could around his wings. Now in this dress, it feels more than okay around his wings because it was literally made with people like him in mind.

It’s kind of refreshing to dress up like this.

Marrow’s curious gaze gets Qrow thinking out loud, “Wait, did the others not tell you about when Jaune wore a dress?”

Blinking, Marrow asked, “He did what?”

“Yeah, did it to cheer up a friend.” That’s one way to describe a memory coated with both joy and grief.

“Huh.”

A dazed off look enters Marrow’s eyes until they wander off to the dress section. His hesitant feet leads them over to the frills and silk and lace. Little Madeleine is instantly by his side, piling dresses in her arms. Qrow picks up the wary curiosity in the unsure movement in the younger man.

Taking a page out of Clover’s book, he says, “You don’t have to force yourself to do this, Marrow.”

“I’m just trying stuff out,” Marrow said, more for himself.

The guy does look a little clueless. After all, simply picking a dress and wearing it is not as easy as it sounds. For skirts, that’s only a matter of hipbones or whatever. As for dresses, Qrow knows from experience how most dresses are designed for slimmer bodies or narrow shoulders.

Thankfully Madeleine is here with a keen eye. She double-checks on the sizes for each dress from hem line to sleeves before handing Marrow the appropriate size. The kid gives him a thumb’s up in approval, assuring Marrow as he goes back to the dressing stall.

“Maddie knows what she’s doing,” Pito proudly states, “she loves helping everyone with their dresses.”

“So I’m not the only guy around here that likes dressing up?” Qrow meant for a lighthearted tone but apparently Pito got a faraway look as she smiled at the sight of her daughter reorganizing the clothing racks.

She needed a stepstool but nonetheless, Madeleine worked diligently.  

“My little girl wants to make the world be as pretty as she believes it to be,” Pito said.

There was a small hitch in her throat at the ‘little girl’ part. It paired with the watery eyes Pito attempted to brush away.

“She sounds a lot like my kids,” Qrow shared.

The mother sends him a knowing look, something that Summer once had when the girls were cradled in her arms. That sweet security and peace and Qrow is slowly learning that feeling too.

They wrap things up. Qrow returns to his regular clothes, an overcoat where the entire back section is gone so that his wings don’t have any troubles.

Marrow hasn’t come out when Qrow finishes paying. Pito has a worried look but Qrow gestures to let him handle this.

Knocking gently on the door, he calls out, “Hey, Marrow, how’re you doing?”

“Okay,” is said too fast, too caught off guard but Marrow tries again with a calmer tone, “They actually do fit, well most of them I think but…”

“I’m not asking about the clothes, kid.”

There a pause and while Qrow is worrying, he also realizes that oh.

So this is what’s like to be Clover in these conversations. But Marrow is not Qrow. Perhaps they have similar experiences, but the dog faunus eventually opens up.

“I’ve never really wore anything that was for me. It was always a uniform and that was safe because at first glance, I belonged to a group.”

“I get that, kid,” he said, “Blake too.”

“I know that,” Marrow’s voice is a bit muffled but a twinge of exhaustion is there. “I just want to be confident in all of me. Like how you wear dresses or like how Blake cut her hair.” His words get softer but they make it through the door, “And May… You’re all so proud being yourselves.”

Again, words fail him. Qrow has those old gut instincts to argue against Marrow’s claim. The rooted knots in his stomach would actually hurt at someone else’s belief in him.

But those tangled threads aren’t holding strength as Qrow thinks of his pride.

Sure he has pride in his skill, in earning the two month chip of his sobriety, and most of all, pride in his kids.

As for self-pride, huh, is that’s what Qrow’s been walking with? Has that been intertwining with his acceptance and eagerness to be happy again?

Unfortunately now is not the time to have a revelation or self-reflection, Marrow is spiraling and Qrow doesn’t have much familiarity on this. He always thought as Marrow as a faunus with a strong sense of identity but Qrow should’ve know better, after all he hid behind thinly veiled self-loathing thoughts.

Qrow can’t get another word out, any idea of comforting Marrow is unsure when he hears the shop’s entrance chime.

It must be luck, good or bad, it doesn’t matter because guess who’s here.

Fiona Thyme is occupied with talking to Pito while May Marigold meets his gaze.

‘And May,’ Marrow had trailed off with, as if she’s the most important person to think about.

Without a second thought, Qrow walks up to the ladies.

“Hi Qrow,” begins Fiona. She’s the most familiar with him sense they’re the ones who had to keep Robyn and Clover from sassing each other when they meet up. She tilts her head, reading into his quiet turmoil, “Is something wrong?”

His frown isn’t reassuring as he turns to May, “Marrow’s in there.”

All he did was point to the dressing rooms and then May was already speed walking there, a panicked and vulnerable expression on her face.

The shop may have that idle instrumental music playing lowly in the background but he hears May gently say, “Marrow, it’s me, will you let me in?”

Five seconds of stasis and holding their breaths, the door opens and May is let in.

Qrow usually doesn’t look too deep into his kids’ relationships, usually because none of them are subtle about their fluffy affection or bad pickup lines. But for Marrow, he was Clover’s kid so Qrow had that innate urge to get on the good side of his boyfriend’s friends.

The other Ace Operatives still claim their acquaintances at best but that’s an utterly proven wrong at the end of the day. Each one of them cares about Clover in their own way and expressed their varying degree of enthusiasm and care for the Beacon hunters.

As for the rookie, Marrow got quite comfortable with Qrow’s flock, specifically Jaune. That is what Qrow is trying to wrap up to, Marrow and Jaune had that coffee thing and then suddenly Marrow’s joining them in game night.

So in shorter words, Qrow cares about Marrow but also wondering what the kid’s gonna do about his feelings for two people. Well according to Fiona who’s here to pick up her dress, the Happy Huntresses are all going so Marrow’s gonna be in a room with two of his crushes.

Just a normal day in Atlas.

They spend an hour longer in the shop helping Marrow decide on an outfit. Well, mostly May and Madeleine because the dog faunus trusts them. Although if Qrow guided the little bird away from the red dresses then that’s the least he can do to prevent Jaune from getting bittersweet flashbacks.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, Jaune wouldn’t be the only one reminiscing about the fallen warrior of reds and golds.  

By the time they finish shopping and thanking James’ credit card that either May or Fiona tried to steal, the two huntsmen were back at the academy as the sun sinks into the horizon.

Marrow wasn’t too elated to hang out with anyone so he retreated to his room hugging his garment bag tightly, a relieved smile on his face.

That leaves Qrow to handle his usual amount of rambunctious kids who demand his attention.

The moment they spy the garment bag carefully tucked under his arm, they turned into vultures.

“You got an outfit? Put it on, put it on!” Ruby demanded, bouncing in her feet and just like Madeleine, made grabby hands at him.

Weiss, the opposite of childish joy, pouted, “We were all supposed to go to my tailor together!”

“But we did that other day,” Jaune complained, slumped over the couch with Nora. He’s on warren duty, keeping the thunderbolt out of the kitchen while Ren and Oscar prepare dinner.

“It’s called final fittings.”

“Is that what you call taking three hours making sure your gear is lit free?” Blake teases.

Her eyes are still glued to her book as her fuzzy socked feet are swung over the couch’s arm. Her toes tap the air, meaning she’s at a good part. Blake’s head is rested upon Yang’s lap whose idly combing her hands in the cat faunus’ hair while Yang watches the superhero movie marathon Jaune has been raving about.

“Ha, nice one,” Nora grinned and while Jaune is snickering, she tries to escape his hold.

Nora could easily threaten to hurt Jaune or actually hurt Jaune but she loves handholding too much to do that to her leader. That and Qrow has given her the parental disapproving lecture about throwing threats around.

So far her escape plan is to slitter away but from pure instinct or insight, Ren looks away from his work to just stare at her with a raised brow. Nora sinks back to the couch, just in time to watch the superhero with slow motion powers use his powers for the greater good.

“Food’s almost ready,” Oscar announces and turns off the stove, “I don’t think Qrow should risk his suit against the curry.”

“Dress actually,” he corrects, walking pass his starry eyed niece and his grinning niece and a bunch of other children that have decided to look up to him. “You four,” he points to the couch potatoes, “go set the table.”

He feels a little vindicated when they listen.

Only Weiss and Ruby follow him to his room, the one originally assigned to him but some of his clothes have migrated to Clover’s room. Still, it’s nice to have a place close to the kids. It was also a hassle to be too near to the kids’ dorms simply due to how they are in the mornings.

The two coffee machines and one tea kettle are not enough for the eight youths.

Qrow gently places the dress bag in his closet, Weiss and Ruby instantly drawn to it while he searches for some more casual clothes. Look, Nora can be a messy eater, there’s a good chance curry will be flying thanks to his semblance.

When he’s trying to find a matching set of socks, a futile mission, he hears his niece and her girlfriend unzip the bag and start to wow about his dress.

“It’s so pretty!”

“Definitely a lot more tasteful than I expected.”

“You’re just jealous that your dress doesn’t have this much detail.”

“I’ve worn countless of dresses, Ruby, and a good number of them are up to this quality. I am not jealous.”

“Nice to hear your approval then,” Qrow said. Weiss quirks a smile at him, glad that her intentions are known. “Hey, can you help me with this thing too?”

His left wing hasn’t been feeling great against the cold evening air. Maybe a feather or two were misaligned during his dressing and left a patch of rough wing skin exposed to the chills. The wing wasn’t cooperating when he tried to remove his coat.

“Of course,” Weiss stepped behind him. The first time he asked for her help, her hands shook a bit, too nervous to mess up but determined to do the task. This time there isn’t any jitter or nerves, just helpful and careful.

Once the heavy coat is off, he reaches over to find the ruffled feathers.

“Thanks,” he said to the ice princess who ironically has a soft expression that’s melting his heart.

“You’re welcome, Uncle Qrow,” Weiss replies.

A high pitch squeal exits Ruby’s mouth despite the fact that her hands are clasped over, like that can tamper her excitement. The giddiness radiating off of her matches the squishiness in Qrow.

That squishy feeling always happens whenever his kids, aside from Yang and Ruby, call him uncle.

The first time each one said it was a total shock and it’s even more heartfelt knowing they still continue to do so.

Weiss rolls her eyes, like that can downplay the emotional impact she caused to the family.

“Come on Ruby,” she reminds, “there’s dinner waiting for us.”

She grabs Ruby’s hand and whisks her away. Ruby gives her uncle a parting thumb’s up.

“Clover’s going to love it!”

…oh boy, Qrow needs to mentally prepare for that.

[loving-barnes]

Winter’s Song (1) - Bucky Barnes x reader x Loki

(A/N): I have written this long time ago and have decided to post it here. I know I am not active at all on Tumblr, but I am trying to live a better life and find my passion for writing... and so on. I hope you will like this. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Loki

Warnings: none

Words: 3500+

Part 1

"The princes will arrive soon, your highness," said one of the maids while she was trying to dress up a young woman in front of her. She, as well as other three maids, were putting pieces of clothing on the princess, getting her ready for the biggest occasion that happened in the kingdom. The last celebration was when the youngest daughter of the king was born.  

"Your highness?" the voice brought the girl out of her thoughts.  

"Why do I have to be there?" she asked silently, upset with the thought that she was forced to attend the event where no one will notice her. All eyes will be on her older sisters who were about to find a husband. "This does not concern me if I am correct."  

The older woman raised her eyes, staring at the youngest princess. She was with her ever since she was a baby, barely walking. Her dedication and love helped her raise the princess into a kind-hearted woman. "I know, your highness, but you have to be there to support your siblings. One of them might become the future Queen of Asgard, while the other will become our new Queen," she explained.   

"And what will happen to me?" she questioned, scared of the near future. That was a difficult question even for the maid. "You know my sisters are not very fond of my presence," she sighed. It was the truth – her older siblings never treated her as if she was their blood. "Once they become queens, they will try to get rid of me because I am different, as they said – a witch."  

"No, my princess, you are special, not different and not a witch. Your parents were blessed with a child that can do remarkable things. There was a reason why you were the chosen one and not your sisters," she gave her a reassuring smile and made her turn around to see how they dressed her up.  

This was a new piece for her, turning her into something magical and unique that could be heard only in stories. Her hair was braided multiple times, decorated with white and blue flowers. Her dress was made of the finest fabric. They chose for her white and light blue with a silver cape. It made her heart skip a beat and held her breath for a long second.  

"Beautiful," the maid said proudly, patting princess's shoulders. "You will be the most beautiful girl in the room, and anyone will fall to your knees. Maybe even a prince."  

"My sisters are going to hate me even more."  

"Let them. You deserve a moment of your own. You have been in the shadows for too long."  

A knock on the door interrupted them and a man came inside, instantly bowing. "Princess Y/N, your presence is requested in the main hall," he informed her and left the room, still bowing and not looking at the woman.  

One more time, she looked at her reflection. As beautiful as the dress was, a feeling of insecurity came straight through her chest. "I cannot do this," she shook her head, already stepping away from the mirror. "Let them have everything," and with that, she ran from the room, from the maids, not listening to their calls. No one could stop her at the very moment.  

She knew that there will be consequences later that day but right now, she didn't want to focus on that. Her heart wanted to escape from the castle and the people. Her soul wanted to be outside, running through forests and meadows, to be free and not care about the princess duties. She needed to help others and with the magic flowing in her veins, she was able to do that.  

Y/N was able to sneak out of the castle through the gardens and a secret gate that was built in the castle walls. She knew that the guards will keep their mouth shut and not tell anyone if they saw her. It had a reason – she was treating them well, unlike her sisters who were spoiled and focused on materialistic things. They were mean to the servants; mean to the peasants; mean to the animals, and mean to nature.    

She went down the pathway, around the edge of the forest until she came to a vast meadow that was on a hillock, spreading above a village. There were no flowers, the grass was yellowish, and the weather was becoming cold. The seasons were about the change and the land would rest for a while.  

Yet, the people were still enjoying being outside, living lives to the fullest. Children were playing some games while running through the meadows, laughing and dancing. One of them noticed the princess slowly walking to them.  

"Princess Y/N! Princess Y/N is coming!" a little girl started to shout, ecstatic. A second later, the whole pack ran towards her, happy that she was able to visit them once again.  

No one from the royal family visited the village when unnecessary. Mostly they passed by or once a year decided to appear to do their duties, but not Y/N. She loved her people and wanted the best for them. A true king or queen should be adored by the people. Though her parents did have some respect, it was no secret that they did not like the older princesses.  

As one man once said: "We are terrified of what will happen if the throne will fall to the hands of one of your sisters, your highness."  

Don't let them take the throne, princess.  

Winters would become longer and summers harder. The happiness that was in the faces of the villagers would disappear and they'd know nothing but work and paying taxes.  

Each hand became preoccupied with a little boy and a girl while the rest of the children were surrounded by the princess. They were admiring her new dress, pointing at the flowers in her hair and gave her a lot of compliments. They wanted to have a word with her, tell her what was happening in the village. Last time she visited them; it was almost a month ago.  

"Please, one at a time," she laughed, trying to calm them down as she took the youngest little girl into her arms. She could be around three.    

"Why are you here and not in the castle?" asked an older girl. She was around thirteen.  

"Isn't there supposed to be a big occasion?" another boy asked. "Princes are coming to the palace and you are not there. Why?"  

As they were slowly walking towards the first cottages, she spoke. "They are coming here to meet my sisters and not me. One of them will become the future Queen of Asgard and the other one will become your new queen. Though it is true I should be there to support my two sisters. However, when did they support me?"  

"What if they chose you?" another child asked. "You are the most beautiful princess the realms have seen."  

"Yes! You are not only beautiful on the outside but also the inside."  

"You should be our queen."  

"We will fight for you."  

"Even the people are saying it."  

Y/N stopped in tracks, sighing. As much as it sounded flattering, these words were dangerous. "Be careful. This is treason, as you all know," she reminded them. "Do not speak these things out loud. You never know who might hear you."  

This made the children stop talking for a moment and they continued walking, slowly coming to the rest of the villagers. Those who have noticed her became cheering her name, glad that she was able to come to them again. Almost everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered around the princess, welcoming her.  

A woman brought her a freshly baked bread; another man gave her a rummer filled with red wine. Young men brought a wooden bench so she could sit on it. The people treated her well because she had done more for them than the rest of the royal family. The gathering created some form of warmth and Y/N didn't feel cold anymore. She was happy to see the smiles on people's faces, and most importantly, she felt safe.  

Y/N noticed a lot of roses on the ground. Some of them were trodden down by horses. She knew what it meant.  

"We saw the whole Asgardian royal family coming to the palace," said an older man who was smoking a pipe. "Queen Frigga was very delightful, smiling brightly and greeting us almost with opened arms. King Odin, on the other hand, reminded me of your sisters. His face was stone cold, and he barely gave us any attention."  

While he was talking, the rest of the people were listening, nodding.  

"Prince Thor was very charming," a girl of her age shouted from the crowd. "Golden hair and muscles do make him charming," she giggled.  

"Why are you not in the castle, my princess?" a woman asked, rocking a baby in her hands. "This should be a big day for you."  

Biting down her lower lip, she lowered her head. "I believe my presence is not that important, my friends. They brought their sons for my sisters, not for me."  

"How can you say that, my princess?" an old woman, leaning against a stick, asked. "Do not think for a second that you are not worthy. You are far more worthy than your sisters."  

"You have a kind heart, beautiful face and a gift from the greatest gods," said another woman who might be already someone's great-grandmother. "You are equal to the Asgardian gods."  

"But am I wise enough to be a queen?" the princess asked, looking around herself, scanning the faces of the people who believed in her. Young, old, children or mothers – they all rooted for her. Even though they did not wear fancy clothes and had dirty faces, she never thought less of them. "I do not wish to be engaged to a prince. My heart has been given to someone else."  

Somewhere in the crowd, her eyes met with a piercing green one. They were staring at her while there was a tiny grin forming on the man's lips. She did not see him in the village before but yet she sensed a hint of mischievousness in him.  

"Princess Y/N?" one of the children came to her, taking the woman's hands into their small one. "Because the winter is approaching us, will we sing Winter's song as we always do?"  

With a smile and a simple nod, the princess started to sing the song everyone knew. Her soft song was reverberating through the cottages. One by one, the people joined the song, making it even more beautiful. Some of them took their hands, bonding more through the song. The princess was swaying with a child in her hands while it tried to sing the song too. The cold wind surrounded them, caressing people's cheeks in a welcoming way. As if nature was blessing them for the upcoming winter.  

While singing, there was another person in the crowd that never took eyes off her. He was smiling the moment he heard the princess came to the village. It almost jumped from his chest when he heard her say those wonderful things. It was music to his ears. When the princess noticed the ocean blue eyes, her heart started to beat fast and she had a lot to do to hide her blush.  

The peace was wonderful, uniting the people. It caused the weather to listen to the song and let fall first snowflakes from the sky. The moment could not be any more magical than it was.  

It was until the guards from the castle interrupted their gathering. The horse tramping was loud enough to get their attention. The people ran away from them, forming an entrance into the middle of the group, stopping in front of the princess. She was immediately on her feet, shielding some of the children behind her.  

"Princess Y/N," one of them said loud, frightening the villagers. His heavy armour was clanging when he took off the horse. "You are requested at the palace, immediately. We are taking you with us. It is the king's order." He grabbed her forearm with force, yanking her forward.  

She yelped from pain, not being fond of the way this guard was treating her. He was forcing her up on the horse even though she tried to resist him. "Let me go!"  

A man stepped out the crowd of people, immediately pushing the guard away from the princess. "How dare you treat the princess like this?" he asked, mad at what he was seeing. His green cape hid the princess behind him.  

"And who do you think you are? Step aside!"  

The man with raven hair snickered, standing up straight. "I am Loki of Asgard, son of Odin," he replied to his question. The villagers gasped, letting whispers circle around. "I demand you to let the go of the princess and treat her with respect. If not, the king will be informed about your behaviour."  

Y/N eyes widened, not believing what she was hearing. Those green eyes that were watching her from the crowd belonged to a prince, to Odin's son. Her breath hitch in the middle of the throat and it made her blink a few times in disbelief.  

The villagers started to bow in front of him. It was disrespectful not to do so. No one knew who he was until he revealed his identity.  

Loki turned around, taking a good look at the princess. "Are you alright, my lady?" he asked politely.  

"Yes," she whispered.  

"She needs to be brought back to the castle," said the guard. "Now."  

"Very well," Loki nodded. "Give her and me a horse. We will be going back to the castle as requested."  

They listened to his orders. Two guards took off the horses and brought them closer to the prince and princess. Loki, as a true gentleman, helped her up on the horse. When she was seated well, she turned to him. "Thank you," her voice being soft.  

Her eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for the only person that could carry her away from the situation. Unfortunately, he was not there anymore.  

Once the prince was seated upon the horse, together, they went towards the castle, followed by the guards. All eyes of the serfs were on them, watching as they were leaving the village. They remained quiet, silently praying for the princess.  

The first snow that was falling on them stopped. The magical moment was ruined. Now, she had to face her parents, both sisters and King Odin with his family. His younger son was silently riding next to her. She could feel his eyes on her back – watching her as prey, never leaving her out of his sight.  

There were two options in front of her – follow the guards and prince Loki back to the castle or...Her heels spurred the horse and it immediately started to run away from the group, going straight to the forest. Before they were able to register what happened, she was far ahead from them, giving her a massive advantage.  

"Don't let me down," she said to the horse, trying to make him go as fast as possible. She knew the forest as if it was her second home. There was only one place she would rather be now – the only place she felt safest. When the blue eyes discovered what happened, they knew what to do and where to go. He knew what she would do.  

"Stop the princess!" the screams were echoing around her.  

There was no time turning around the shoulder to check where the guards were. She hoped that a miracle would happen, and she would get to the place she wanted to be the most.  

They almost got her. The guards with prince Loki appeared from two sides, ready to encircle her. That was when a golden portal opened in front of her and she went right through it. It closed before they had a chance to witness the magic in front of them.  

Y/N appeared at the end of the village, near a wooden cottage where were several people. It belonged to the local old smith whose son took the business.  

"She's here," said a voice that belonged to a woman.  

Y/N stopped the horse, almost falling from him. There was mud on the ground, and it made it too slippery. Luckily, she was able to remain on the horse's back.  

"Easy there," a tall man jumped to the horse, taking the cord. "We do not want the princess to fall, do we?"  

Y/N looked down at the man. A bright smile tugged at her lips, eyes sparkling with nothing but adoration and love. She reached for the man who took her into his strong hands and twirled them around. Then his lips ended on top of her, kissing her passionately. They did not care that some eyes were watching them.  

"My angel," he whispered into her ear and then kissed her cheek. "It's been so long."  

"I am very sorry," she said with the same tone with a hint of sadness. "After this stunt, I will not be able to see you for a long time, James."  

"We will always find a solution."  

Their conversation was interrupted by the others. "Princess Y/N, long time no see," said a woman. When she turned her head to the voice, she noticed her friends Wanda and Vis standing next to each other, grinning. Instantly, they bowed. Not out of respect but to humour her. They were friends in secret for a long time. There was a reason.  

"I have noticed you are becoming better with your abilities, my friend," the princess turned to the two people standing afar.  

Vis smiled at her, nodding. "I have been learning with my dearest one," and he pulled Wanda closer to him. "She is a wonderful teacher."  

Vis was a cook in a local pub and Wanda was a waitress there. The pub belonged to her father. He agreed to a union between his daughter and the cook. James, on the other hand, was a smith's son who took care of the business and he was Y/N's secret lover. What they had in common was the uniqueness that united them all.  

Y/N smiled at them; fingers still entwined with James's. "Unfortunately, we do not have a lot of time," she turned back to the man standing so close. "They want me back at the castle. There will be consequences for what I have done."  

"And what have you done?" he questioned, pretending as he did not know about anything.  

"I was not present for the arrival of the Asgardian royalty and decided to run away. I did not obey the order of my father to be brought back to the castle. Instead, I had turned my horse and escaped into the woods. Now, they are looking for me," she explained. "Even a prince."  

"Which one?" he asked again.  

"Prince Loki."  

Wanda came closer to them, not being sure if she heard properly. "Did you say Loki? The God of Mischief himself?"  

"Yes," she nodded. "He came too, with his brother Thor. He was in the village during the Winter's song."  

"Is that bad?" Vis asked.  

She shrugged. "I do not know. You never know what it can cause. Luckily, he was not able to see the portal; he was not able to see me disappear. The Asgardian family does not know about... magic in our realm. Or at least about you. I believe my parents have told them something about me."  

"Queen Frigga might know it, as well as Loki," said Wanda. "They both use magic."  

"Different kind of magic," James added.  

"Yet, it is still magic. They will know."  

"Loki is also the God of Mischief and lies. You have to be careful with him, my angel," James brushed a piece of Y/N's hair behind her ear.  

She nodded. "Luckily, both him and his brother came for my sisters and not me. I am would not let them betroth me to someone else than you."  

"That's good," he smiled lovingly. "Because you are mine, angel."  

"Honestly, this is funny," Wanda started to laugh. "Apologies, your majesty, for my laugh, but to be honest, even though you are a princess, they do treat you like air."  

"You are not far from the truth," Y/N nodded. "Royal princess that lives in the shadows."  

"That is more powerful than any of those sitting on the throne," Vis added.    

Like my story? Buy me Ko-Fi

[reylo-trash-4ever]

FRIENDS IT IS I. HERE WITH MORE REYLO FANFICTION

Can’t believe I actually wrote this in one sitting... sorry if it’s shitty but I just wanted to get this ‘exposition’ stuff out of the way so that the REAL fun may begin! WHOOHOO!! Get ready for a wild ride my reylos!

As always, MUCH LOVE to my besties @scav-eng-er and @mojona1999 for being the coolest ReyloMates ever and for suffering through my endless snl “live tweeting” with me!

And special shout out to @lana-n95 and @firethebluesky for always supporting me. Enjoy! 

THE GAME: Chapter 3 (a Modern Reylo AU)

Word count: 2850

His voice was low and silky. He must have regained his composure before she did as she felt the skin of her palms being pierced by nails from fists she didn’t know she clenched. Her vision focused on him and him alone, as if they were suddenly the only people in the world. The surroundings faded and there was a white hot anger swelling in her from the very tip of her toes on up. 

“Oh good, I see you two have already me then?” Amilyn’s voice somehow found its way through the ringing in Rey’s ears, but she could do nothing besides stare into the face of the mysterious man before her. She didn’t respond, and there was an awkward pause where she realized the question had been directed her way.

“Not exactly,” the man spoke up first, answering for her, “we ran into each other last night, but nothing more.” 

The casual way he blew her off made her anger boil further and she noticed the subtle jab at ‘running’ into each other. If she remembered that encounter correctly, it was his carelessness and haste that caused the collision. She had nothing to do with it, and she hated the way he already seemed to twist the narrative to make it look like she was to blame.

“So you haven’t been properly introduced then?” Amilyn asked while motioning for Rey to take a seat opposite her and next to the man, who still stood. Her feet felt like they were stuck in place, and it was like walking through thick jello with every step she forced herself to take closer to them. She finally made it to the chair, giving Amilyn a nod and the smallest twitch of a smile in thanks. She took her seat and noticed that the man remained standing until she was fully below him. Only when Amilyn also sat, did he lower himself to their level, but even sitting down his presence seemed to flaunt over them. 

“Rey, this is Kylo Ren. He’s been with the company for a few years now, but he travels between firms so you probably haven’t had a chance to see him work in action before now. He’s an accomplished lawyer with many cases under his belt, and his father is-”

“That’s enough Amilyn,” Kylo cut off his superior before she could continue. Rey gaped at his audacity and waited for the cold response of Amilyn, but it didn’t come. Instead, she did the last thing Rey expected; she apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, Ren. I didn’t think it would be an issue here.” Her voice did come off as slightly chilled and Rey detected a greatly hidden offense, but it was nothing like the stern tone she often took with her employees. Rey couldn’t believe what she was hearing and wondered who this ‘Kylo’ had to be to make Amilyn the one to apologize when he was clearly in the wrong. 

“As I was saying, Rey” she continued, turning to look at her again, “I’m assuming you already made the connection that Kylo is who you will be working the Terrio case with. He will be an incredible asset to this specific case and a wonderful addition to our team. I’ve long awaited the days when he would return to us.”

Even though they were praising, there was a delicacy in Amilyn’s words, as if she were afraid that by saying the wrong thing, Kylo would react poorly. Rey tried to keep her eyes trained on the woman in front of her, but she dared a few glances at the man. She could feel his demeanor shift from pompous superiority to boredom. Amilyn was speaking as if he were her own son, something Rey found herself alarmingly jealous of, and he was on the verge of acting like a teenager who couldn’t care less.

There was a pause in the conversation where any normal person would show their gratitude towards such high praise, but Kylo didn’t respond. After a few more awkward moments where both of the woman simply stared at him, he finally spoke.

“Now that all of that is out of the way, are we ever going to get to start on this so called ‘important’ case?” Kylo leaned back in his seat, propping his left foot over his right knee and taking up an impossible amount of space with his lengthy form. 

“Ben,” Amilyn sighed, dropping her professional airs and rubbing her forehead with her hand.

“I told you not to call me by that name,” Kylo snarled suddenly, but Amilyn continued without even seeming to notice. Rey wondered why she called him ‘Ben’ instead of the previously mentioned ‘Ren’. Amilyn was not one to make simple errors on something as important as a name. 

“If you’re going to work with us, you need to have more respect for our process. Your mother told me that you were willing to cooperate here, and I fully expect that to happen. I will not go easy on you because of your parentage and you will listen to what I say.” 

Rey felt like she was put in the middle of some kind of family quarrel and she suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. She looked to the floor, hoping that was the respectful thing to do, and heard Kylo try to make retorts, but Amilyn kept giving him no time to cut in. Should she leave? This didn’t really feel like it was about her anymore and she didn’t know what to do, or even if she should do anything at all. 

“Need I remind you of the consequences if this doesn’t turn out like your mother hoped it would?” Amilyn said in a hushed town, and Rey could sense a threat when she heard one. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kylo clench the handles of his chair so hard that his knuckles went white. 

There was another long silence and Rey was about to scream from discomfort, every inch of her body begging her to run away, but finally it was broken by Amilyn. 

“I’m sorry, Rey, we’re going to have to cut this short. I’ll fill you in on the details when I’m finished here. Please close the door on your way out.” 

Rey knew it as an instant dismissal and she shot out of her seat, thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of that situation. She practically leapt from the room, crossing the long distance between the doorway and the chairs in a mere few strides. 

It wasn’t until she was fully out of the room, the door almost shut behind her, did she realize she left her bag with her laptop and case files inside. She silently cursed herself, wishing to god she didn’t have to go back in.

Mustering up all of her courage, she meant to knock and go back, but the conversation coming from inside made her stop. She knew she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it when she heard her name. 

“Rey is incredibly talented, Ren, and I want you to teach her,” Amilyn sounded more serious and intense than she previously had. Rey wondered if she had been putting on an act in front of her, or maybe it had been for her? 

“She’s a kid!” Kylo hissed. 

“She’s a woman with high potential,” Amilyn corrected. Rey’s heart fluttered with the praise, “and I will not have you ruining it for me. This is your last chance to make your past mistakes right. Your uncle asked me to-”

“My uncle is a piece of shit!” Kylo yelled, and Rey heard his chair skid on the floor. She imagined him angrily rising from his seat with enough force to slide the chair out from under him. His intimidating height gave her those chills again as she could see the scene in front of her as clear as day. 

“Luke is a legend at this firm and if you want to hide your relation to him and your mother, that’s your choice and none of my business. But, you are sure as hell going to have to keep your temper in check.” Amilyn’s voice was as cold as ice now and Rey found herself wanting to shiver with a new kind of chill. She prayed she would never have to hear that directed towards her. 

It seemed to have done something to Kylo as well. There was a beat in their conversation and when he spoke again, his tone had calmed somewhat and his words were slow.

“I did not come out of my own volition, or because I had any desire to be here, in the slightest. You will be wise to remember that, Holdo.” 

“And you will be wise to treat your superiors with respect, Ben Solo.”

Rey’s mind clicked with something at the name. Weren’t the women in the office talking about a ‘Ben’ the other night? And Amilyn had used it just moments before. Was it not just a slip of the tongue? 

What caught Rey’s attention more than anything was the family name she used directly after. Solo… why was that so familiar to her? 

Suddenly it hit her like as fast and as forceful as a train. Solo was the name often associated with the whole Skywalker company. If she remembered her research right - which she always did - Solo was the last name of the man who helped the CEO create to company. He co-owned the business, although he himself didn’t practice law. Luke Skywalker, the world renowned and super famous lawyer created the business with his brother in law, Han Solo. Han married Luke’s sister, Leia, and they had a son together who Luke took under his wing from a very young age. The stories regarded him as a genius and he was quickly in line to take over the company for the both of them when he came of age. 

Except, he apparently wanted nothing to do with it. He was a spoiled rich boy born into high society New York who had a silver spoon thrust into his mouth since he was a baby. Even though he was known to abhor those of his class, his attitude was always that of someone who regarded himself ‘better’ than everyone else. He was reportedly one of the biggest assholes you could ever meet, but everyone constantly sucked up to him because of the standing in life that his friendship, and money, would gain them. Rey thought that sounded like a very lonely way to live. 

The rumors were that he and his uncle used to be very close, but they had a huge falling out, and it was the reason for Skywalkers early retirement. The company scrambled without him and his sister, Leia Organa, took over in his stead. She ran the business fairly, but when it caused a rift between her and her husband, they split shortly after. Everyone said the divorce was their sons fault because of his rowdy and rebellious antics and they couldn’t control him without Luke’s help.

That’s when Ben Solo fell off the face of the earth. Rey heard of this ‘Kylo Ren’ but she never suspected it was a fake persona for the man trying to hide his family name. The realization of everything suddenly hit her. Amilyn Holdo wanted her to work with the CEO’s prodigy nephew?! The son of the current leader and of the infamous Solo?!

She realized that Amilyn must have high expectations of her, and the thought was almost crushing in its responsibility. But Rey also found her excitement welling up within her again. She loved nothing more than a challenge, and working with that prick of a man was going to be just that. 

Suddenly, the door opened in front of her and she almost fell inside. Luckily, she caught her balance and saved herself from looking like a fool. Except, her eyes widened as she realized she was looking at the feet of Kylo Ren, or rather, Ben Solo. She slowly looked up as he glared down at her. 

“Were you listening to our private conversation?” He practically spat at her, making her wince. 

“N-no! I just forgot my bag,” Rey stuttered a whisper, trying to look inconspicuous, but knowing she failed miserably. What else could she have been doing? It was obvious that she probably heard every word of their very personal dialogue. 

“Is there something wrong, Kylo?” 

She heard Amilyn use his disguise name from behind them, knowing that his large frame completely hid her from sight. Was he going to expose her in front of their boss? It was an easy way to get rid of her, eavesdropping would surely make her lose favor with Amilyn and would give her the wrong kind of attention. 

Ben’s mouth twitched once before twisting into an evil grin as he never broke eye contact with Rey. She felt her stomach drop and she found she couldn’t breathe. She was completely at his mercy, and from the look on his face, that was something he didn’t posses. 

“It’s nothing, Holdo,” he said over his shoulder, still watching Rey, “I seem to have forgotten my things, is all.”

In one swift movement, he shoved the bag he already carried on his shoulder towards Rey with such strength that she was forced back a few steps and out of eyesight from anyone sitting at Amilyn’s desk. He turned around and she watched him move out of sight only to return a few seconds later with her own bag clasped by one of his large hands. He shut the door softly behind him, and turned to look at her expectantly. Rey realized that other people were beginning to file into the office for their day of work. She still clutched his briefcase with both arms across her chest and stared up at him with disbelief. 

“Why did you do that?” She demanded after he refused to say anything or make a single move. More bodies were coming from the elevator and they were quickly being outnumbered by easily gossip mongering men and women. Rey wanted to be seen with Ben as little as possible, and she could only imagine the rumors they would start by standing so close together in a small doorway. 

“Because now,” Ben breathed, leaning in close and whispering in her ear, “you owe me.” 

Rey’s eyes were wide and she instinctively shoved him away from her. Her cheeks felt hot and her brain was fuzzy. How the hell did he always get the better of her? 

“What is that supposed to mean?!” She said hotly, watching his smirk turn into a frown of obvious annoyance. 

“It means that you have to do whatever I say, kid.” 

He said the word as an insult and Rey felt humiliated. She huffed in response and rolled her eyes, trying her best to look as nonchalant as possible. She didn’t want him to keep thinking that he could get under her skin so easily. 

“I don’t think that’s what Amilyn meant,” Rey challenged, “now would you please give me back my bag?” 

Ben’s dark eyes flashed angrily and Rey could tell that his importance wasn’t used to being challenged. She could see the anger threatening to break loose from his fake ‘calm composure’ and she braced herself for the explosion.

But it never came. Instead, an idea seemed to form in Ben’s mind and the cockiness returned to his eyes, although he continued to glower at her. 

“Actually, I think I’m going to keep this,” he said, tapping on the bag he now had slung over his shoulder, “think of it as a get-to-know-you exorcise. You keep mine and I’ll keep yours. Should be interesting to learn a little bit about each other, no?” 

Rey glared at him, concern quickly growing in her with every word he spoke. Did he really think that was a good idea?!

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, pretending that her heart wasn’t pounding at the idea of him sneaking through her personal belongings, “you wouldn’t even be able to get into it because you don’t know the password.”

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll figure them out.” 

“Stop calling me that,” Rey retorted, making Ben raise an eyebrow at her ferocity. He simply shrugged his shoulders and stepped out into the hallway as people walked past them. 

“I think I’ll work from home today. We’ll meet up tomorrow once we’ve ‘gotten to know each other’ a bit more, I think.” 

Rey didn’t have any time to reply as he walked through the sea of people flooding in. He was easy to spot over the heads of everyone else, and Rey tried to rush after him, calling out that she still had no idea what he meant, but he made it to the elevator before she could and the doors slid shut in front of her face. 

And just like that he once again left her in complete and utter shock and silence. 

[resident-curse-breaker]

The Bancroft Bloodline

Hello, everyone!

As some of you may know, I’ve previously written two one-shots exploring the relationship between my MC, Nellie Bancroft, and Barnaby Lee. I’ve decided to expand those one-shots into a collection of stories where I develop Nellie’s character by exploring her relationships with other characters. So far, I’ve got ideas for stories centering on her relationships with Rowan Khanna, Skye Parkin, Erika Rath, and Talbott Winger. 

The most recent addition is a vignette revolving around her relationship with Jacob, which is arguably one of the most important relationships in her life. Below the cut, you’ll find the link to the collection on AO3. The collection is titled Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights, and includes both Names Scrawled in the Margins of Spellbooks, the Barnaby-centric stories, and The Bancroft Bloodline, which focuses on Jacob. You’ll also find the entire first chapter of The Bancroft Bloodline, shared here on Tumblr for those who don’t want to go offsite.

I’d absolutely love if you’d give it a read, and I’m always looking for feedback. Thank you so much for your time!

Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901170

The Bancroft Bloodline

Jacob Bancroft considered himself quite good at making snap judgments.

He had to be, in his line of work. In the world of curse-breaking, there was seldom time to carefully analyze every small aspect of a scene or situation. If action had to be taken, it had to be taken quickly. So, he learned to make his assessments in mere seconds, and deal with whatever the consequences may be later. As long as he got out of the main problem in one piece, he could worry about solving the others that may sprout up further down the line. It had become a bit of a habit.

So when he saw his little sister in that Vault, laying eyes on her for the first time in seven long years, he gave her the same perfunctory scan he gave everything else. She had grown taller, though not by much, and her face had yet to lose that youthful roundness. She was still growing her hair out; the flaxen locks were tied in a thick braid long enough for her to sit on. She was dressed in clothes unlike any he'd ever seen her wear—garments made of thick leather, with a chest plate and a shoulder pad—but then, she was venturing into a Cursed Vault. Perhaps it was smart to dress for the occasion. Certainly better than tromping around in her Hogwarts robes. She was still wearing the locket he'd given her, all those years ago, the silver seashell resting against her sternum.

She hadn't changed a bit.

It had been a matter of instinct, giving her that once over, and even as he did it, he hadn't truly registered what he was seeing. It seemed impossible, to think that after all these years of regretting and missing and loving, Nellie was standing right there, only feet away.

"Pip," he breathed, hardly daring to believe it, and she whipped around to face him. The wave of emotion that seemed to hit her at the sight of him was enough to make her stumble back, hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Jacob!" she whimpered, and, recovering, ran over to the portrait. She pressed her palms against the canvas, and Jacob dropped down to his knees, lining his hands up with hers, wishing more than anything that he could grab them and soothe her. Goodness, her hands were still so small. Nellie looked up, and seeing him so close made her face crumple, tears pouring openly down her cheeks. She sobbed, and just like that, Jacob was thrown back to being seventeen, newly expelled and purposeless.

He'd hardly left his room since he'd been sent home. His mothers didn't seem to know how to talk to him, and he was sure they had been urging Nellie away from him as well. He could hear them at night, arguing downstairs when they thought he was asleep. They didn't know what to do with him. It was fair, he supposed. He didn't know quite what to do with himself either.

Then he'd gotten Rakepick's letter.

He had spent a long time grappling with the contents of that letter. Deep down, he'd known he shouldn't accept her offer. Working for her and her allies, it had brought only bloodshed. First poor, sweet Olivia. Then Duncan. Getting sent home could've been a chance to try and sever those ties, get his life back on a track that was normal and safe. But of course, Jacob couldn't accept a comfortable life. He wanted a life of glory. He wanted to be powerful. He'd been such a foolish boy.

He could still remember the way his bedroom door creaked as it opened, and the sound of Nellie's little voice calling his name from the doorway. She'd been only eight, then, so small and vulnerable. Too young to understand why his homecoming had brought frustration and anguish, rather than joy. She didn't understand the weight of his expulsion, or the conversations her mothers had that always seemed to die out when she walked in the room, or the reason her big brother had barely said a single word to her since he came home. All she understood was that she'd missed him while he was gone, and she wanted to spend time with him now that he was here.

All she had done was ask if she could show him her new doll, the one mama had stitched up just for her.

And he'd exploded. He'd screamed at her for everything that had gone wrong, and for nothing at all. He screamed at her for things that were not her doing. He screamed at her for not understanding, for daring to come into his room while he was thinking, for wasting his time. He'd screamed at her until his voice gave out, and only then did he turn to look at her, chest heaving and face red with exertion.

More than anything, he remembered the way she'd looked at him in that moment. Her face drained of color, and her shaking hands hugged to her chest. Her eyes wide and damp with tears, looking at him not only with fear, but with a complete lack of recognition. In that moment, gazing up at him, she didn't recognize her beloved brother at all, and Jacob knew it. His heart had immediately sunk into the pit of his stomach, but when he reached to try and comfort her, she'd burst into tears and ran away. She'd been afraid of him. No matter how hard he tried, Jacob couldn't seem to forget how terrible that felt. In that moment, he'd failed every responsibility afforded to him as an older brother. His quest for power had turned him into someone his baby sister couldn't trust. 

Starting his search for the Vaults was the biggest mistake of his life, but the second biggest mistake was undoubtedly the one he made that night: deciding that he wouldn't be able to put aside his quest—and become the sort of brother he wanted to be—until he'd succeeded. Once he found the Vaults, sating his curiosity and ridding him of his awful jealousy, he would finally be able to move on.

He'd left the very same night.

And look where that had gotten him. Trapped for years, without ever being able to amend the countless mistakes he had made. Look where it had gotten Nellie, seemingly led down the same crooked path that he had walked, filled with the same anguish he'd forced upon her seven years ago.

That was his little sister, sobbing on the other side of the portrait, bruised and shaking and so very vulnerable, and it was all his fault. Tears pricked at the back of Jacob's eyes, and he clenched his jaw, refusing to let himself break down. He was going to fix this. He was going to do right by her now, to make up for every time he had ever done her wrong. He tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes, and gave her the gentlest smile he could manage.

"It's alright, Pip. It's alright," he soothed, struggling to keep his voice steady. He glanced past her, to the column, and then met her gaze once more. "I need you to touch the column, okay? Then I'll be right there." Nellie looked over her shoulder at the column, like she'd forgotten it was there, then pulled away, wiping her nose with a small sniffle. 

"O-Okay. I-I got it." Nellie pushed back her shoulders, forcing herself to stand tall, and crossed over to the column, her every step weighted with purpose. She looked over her shoulder, back up at him—and pressed her hand against the column.

It felt as though air filled Jacob's lungs for the very first time, like he hadn't drawn a breath in years. He took a big gulp of it, of that brand new air, and fell through the the canvas like it was water. He landed on his feet, wobbling, and he barely had time to steady himself before Nellie launched herself into his arms. He almost dissolved, then, holding her so close and feeling her weight in his arms, but he pulled himself back. She needed him. He couldn't break apart now.

"Let me look at you," Jacob whispered, planting his hands on Nellie's shoulders and pulling her back just enough to scan her over, one more time. He huffed a breathless laugh, shaking his head, then pressed a fervent kiss to her forehead. "God, Pip—you haven't changed a bit!" There was so much he wanted to say. He'd had seven years to plan everything he wanted to tell her, but in this critical moment, every carefully constructed sentence had fled his mind.

"You either," Nellie choked out, gazing up at him, before breaking down into another sob, "Oh, Jacob, I've—I've missed you. I've missed you so much." She shook her head, clinging desperately to his arms. "Everything's so twisted and wrong, it's all such a mess—" The relief that overwhelmed Jacob began to give away to unease, his brow furrowing. He was happier than anything that they were finally reunited, happier than anything that he was free...but what was she doing here?

"Hey, hey, shh," Jacob murmured, reaching with a shaking hand to smooth Nellie's hair back from her face, "Whatever's wrong, we can figure it out—"

"I'm sorry I didn't open the door!" Jacob paused, blinking at her a few times in confusion. Nellie wept, not even able to look him in the eye. "Th-The night you left. I didn't open the d-door. I'm so—I'm so sorry, Jacob!" Oh. Oh. That dreadful night, after he'd exploded and destroyed his family with the shrapnel of his rage, he'd tried to go and talk to her, to tell her he was sorry and reassure her that he was someone she could trust. But no matter how much he'd knocked, or how gently he spoke, Nellie hadn't responded, and she certainly hadn't opened the door. Had she been holding onto that, all these years?

"Nellie—" Before he could finish his sentence, however, the sound of oncoming feet made him spin towards the entryway, instinctively throwing out an arm to shield her. Two redheaded boys, one tall and lanky and the other short and stocky, raced in, both of them seeming to relax at the sight of Nellie. Still, Jacob didn't drop his arm. "Who're these two chaps, Pip?" Nellie sniffled, clumsily wiping at her face with the palms of her hands. The sight of them seemed to have jarred her back to the present, reminding her of the circumstances that had gotten her here. There was no time for tears.

"These are my friends, Bill and Charlie Weasley," she introduced, keeping her voice as steady as she could and stepping out around Jacob, branching the gap between them, "They helped me get here."

"Well, then they have my gratitude, that's for sure," Jacob responded in a frail attempt at levity, giving both boys a tight smile. They both stared, as though they couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.

"So, that's him?" the taller one asked, voice uncertain, "That's Jacob Bancroft?" Nellie turned towards him once more, her smile radiant in spite of the dampness of her eyes.

"That's Jacob Bancroft," she confirmed, voice soft with wonder, before the arrival of two more strangers, a boy and a girl, caught her attention. "Merula!" she gasped, darting over to the girl, who was leaning heavily on the boy, her face twisted in pain, "You should be resting!" On instinct, Jacob reached for his wand, a dozen healing spells on his tongue.

"What happened to her?"

"It was Rakepick," Nellie answered, voice growing tight as she wrapped one of the girl's arms around her shoulder, helping to prop her up, "She used the Cruciatus curse on her, we have to—"

"Rakepick?" Jacob interjected, eyes darkening, "She's here?" That vile banshee. It was all falling into place now. Jacob had failed her, so she'd turned to the second best option. She'd preyed on his little sister, used her the same way she'd used him, brought her here, into this place of unbelievable danger, to serve her own needs. 

"Well, no, not—not anymore," Nellie fumbled, caught off guard by the intensity of his voice, "She Disapparated—"

"Just now?" She wouldn't get away with this. He wouldn't let her. She'd taken his ambition and corrupted it. She had twisted him until he was unrecognizable, and disposed of his two only friends as soon as they were of no use to her. She had torn his family apart, ripped him away from them, and now she had turned her wicked gaze onto the one person Jacob had wanted to protect above all. Jacob was going to take her down. He was going to turn her into ash, and ensure that she never sunk her claws into anyone else.

"Just a minute ago," the shorter redhead confirmed, glancing at Nellie, and Jacob gave a low growl.

"I have to go after her," he muttered, almost more to himself than to them, stalking past the group and pulling his wand from its sheath at his hip, "I might still be able to catch up with her, if I'm fast enough."

"Wait!" Nellie gasped, and in spite of himself, Jacob felt his expression soften as he turned to face her. "Take me with you," she pleaded, voice just about breaking, "I can help!" Jacob's chest tightened. She was such a noble girl. She had been since she was just a small child, always taking the blame for his missteps and shielding him from the worst of their mum's disappointment. 

"This is my fight," Jacob said gently, walking over and taking her round, young face in his hands, "It's too dangerous for you to get involved.

"You can't leave again! You can't!" Nellie protested frantically, panic settling in her chest like a bird in a cage that was far too small, beating its wings against the bars, "I only just got you back! There's so much I need to ask you—"

"And there will be time later," Jacob stated firmly, leaning in to press one last kiss to Nellie's forehead, "I'll find you, Pip. I promise. And then we'll have all the time in the world." He pulled back, out of reach of Nellie's hands, reaching desperately for him. "Keep your head down, and stay safe," he commanded, looking steadily into her eyes, "I'll find you when this is all over." And with a loud pop, he was gone.

Fortunately, Jacob left just a minute too early to see Nellie break down entirely. He missed, by only a moment, Bill Weasley pulling her into his arms in a way not unlike Jacob had. Into an embrace not unlike that of an older brother.

[alocalband]

Adventures in Babysitting NurseyDex, 2.5k, Teen Also on AO3

Dex enters the Haus after his last class of the day and immediately freezes, eyes going wide at what he’s met with.

In the middle of the living room is Nursey, eyes equally wide, a look of absolute panic on his face. And there, on the couch beside him... is a baby.

“What the hell?” Dex asks.

Nursey is the physical embodiment of the complete opposite of chill. “Dex, save me.”

“Who in their right mind would give you a baby?”

“Right?! I’m kind of afraid that if I touch it I’ll break it.”

Dex narrows his eyes at the kid, who is thankfully fast asleep in its carrier. “It’s not yours, is it?”

Nursey’s panic manages to recede enough for him to give Dex a flat, unimpressed look. “No, Poindexter, it is not mine. Tango got it from somewhere.”

“Tango got it from somewhere.”

Nursey throws his hands up in the air, at a loss. “I don’t know, man! It’s Tango! He literally dropped by five minutes ago, told me to watch the thing and then bolted.”

Nursey doesn’t seem to realize the volume level of his voice until after he’s done speaking, and then his head whips around to assess the damage. The baby moves a little, stretching one pudgy arm up. Dex and Nursey both hold their breaths...

But then the baby stills and remains asleep.

They both exhale. Dex rubs a hand over his forehead. “Is Bitty around?”

“He’s at Jack’s.”

“Ollie? Wicky?”

“You and I are the only people in the Haus right now and I am two seconds away from having a panic attack.”

Dex drops his backpack to the floor and moves to stand in front of Nursey. He puts a hand on Nursey’s shoulder and squeezes. It’s rare that Nursey lets himself get this visibly flustered in front of another person, but Dex has known him long enough to be able to usually talk him through it.

“Listen, you’re fine. The baby’s asleep and now you have an extra set of hands. I’m gonna call Tango to yell at him, and then call my mom so she can explain to us how exactly not to kill an infant.”

Nursey nods his head and swallows, looking a little calmer. “Right. Okay, yeah. Chill. We got this.”

“Got your back.”

Nursey actually smiles at that. Ever since they stopped living in the same room, their relationship has been improving be leaps and bounds. Nursey gives Dex his space when he needs it, and Dex lets up on hounding Nursey about shit that honestly isn’t that big a deal. It’s been good.

And, as it turns out, they actually end up spending more time together in the living area or the kitchen than alone in their respective rooms. As though choosing to be in a room together instead of feeling forced into one was the big difference maker.

Dex pulls out his phone to call Tango. When it goes straight to voicemail, he sends an all caps text and then calls his mom.

“Did Tango mention a name?” he asks while it’s still ringing.

“No?” Nursey leans over the baby, squinting at it. “Maybe there’s a tag on it or something.”

Dex resists the urge to facepalm, but only just barely.

“Will!” his mom answers brightly. “You don’t usually call in the middle of the week. Is everything alright?”

He explains the situation, and once his mom is finished laughing at them, she gives a rundown of basic baby care. It essentially boils down to: feed it, change it, don’t drop it. There’s a bag of diapers and formula and other baby related stuff beside the carrier, and she walks Dex through making up a couple bottles in the kitchen, while Nursey stares after him from the living room with a betrayed expression for leaving him alone with the tiny human.

“You’re a smart, capable young man,” his mom tells Dex as they wrap up their crash course in babysitting. “You’ll be fine. Consider it a test run for when you have kids of your own.”

Dex pauses and glances sideways at where Nursey is obviously listening to his end of the conversation. “Mom, we talked about that. I’m not...”

“There are plenty of ways for you to still give me grandkids if you end up marrying another man. How does Derek feel about adoption?”

Dex chokes on his own tongue. “Mom, what? Why would-- Nursey and I are not--”

She starts laughing at him again, because his mom loves him but is also mean like that.

Dex rolls his eyes even though she can’t see it. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Alright. Love ya, kid. Good luck.”

“Love you too.”

He gets off the phone and turns to Nursey, who’s looking a little harried around the eyes again. “Okay, I was starting to feel better with how confidently you made those bottles, but now your face is bright red and I’m nervous again.”

“We’ll be fine. My mom just likes to make fun of me. You’d think that after all this time I’d know better than to tell her about my crushes, but she always gets it out of me in the end. It’s like mom magic or something.”

“Yeah, moms are wily like that.” Nursey agrees, turning back towards he sleeping baby.

They both stare at in for a long moment of silence. Then Nursey clears his throat awkwardly. “So, you, uh, you got a crush on someone, huh?”

Dex feels his ears go even hotter than they already were, and he keeps his eyes steadfastly on the baby. He wonders if it’s a boy or a girl. The triceratops onesie doesn’t really hint in either direction. “Like I’d tell you guys if I did. My mom gives me more than enough shit already for falling for unattainable people.”

“Unattainable?”

“He is so far out of my league it’s not even funny.” The moment he realizes what he just said, he freezes, heart pounding. Fuck. Did he really just...

Nursey turns his head to stare at him, while Dex opens and closes his mouth a couple of times without words.

He is saved, in a manner of speaking, by the sudden shrill cries of the baby before them.

“Oh shit,” Nursey curses, immediately panicked. “How do we turn it off?”

Dex steels himself, puts on his game face, and picks up the baby.

He sniffs it a couple times, but it just sort of smells like baby. So he holds it close and puts a gentle bounce in his step as he heads to the kitchen for one of the bottles.

As soon as the nipple is in its mouth, the crying stops. Dex heads back to the living room and sits down on the coffee table so that he can better hold the bottle and the baby the way his mom described.

Nursey is looking at him like he just cured cancer and defeated Voldemort.

Dex ducks his head, embarrassed. “You’re not gonna be nearly so impressed when this thing spits up all over me.”

“I will still be exactly this impressed, and I will also laugh my ass off.”

“I would flip you off right now but I’ve kinda got my hands full.”

It’s quiet for a long moment, the only sounds coming from the baby in Dex’s arms. Nursey stays standing pretty much where Dex originally found him by the carrier on the couch, watching him.

“Listen,” Nursey starts, and then stops. When Dex looks up, he’s chewing his bottom lip, his eyes darting around uncertainly. “I can pretend I didn’t hear anything if you want? Like, if you want a take-back. A do-over or whatever. You should get to say it how you want. If you want.”

Dex swallows. “No, it’s okay. I’ve actually been meaning to tell you for a while. Some of the other guys know. And obviously my mom.”

Nursey shuffles his feet. “And what about the crush?”

“Oh he knows. Not that it makes a difference.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Poindexter. This guy would be an idiot not to like you back.”

“Oh, he’s definitely an idiot, but not because of that.” Dex hesitates, licks his lips nervously, and then goes for broke. “I mean, we couldn’t even live in the same room for more than a month, I’m not sure you’d be up for exploring what a disaster dating would end up being.”

Time seems to stand still as Nursey gapes at him. Dex forces himself not to look away. He’s put it out there now, he can be man enough to deal with the consequences.

“Wait--” Nursey stutters out. “You-- I--”

And then the front door bursts open and Tango appears. “Hey guys! How’s Addie?”

Nursey immediately throws his arms in the air and redirects his focus to their tadpole teammate. “Oh my god, man, never do that to me again!”

Tango gives them a confused look, but that’s pretty much his default expression. “Was she not good for you?”

“Anthony,” Dex begins carefully, “whose baby is this?”

“My sister’s? Did I not say that? She got into town yesterday and I told her I’d take Addie for some playtime so she could have a break.”

“Okay. Follow up question. Why on earth did you think leaving her with Nursey was a good idea?”

“...Because he was the only one here?”

Dex shakes his head and sighs. “You know what, it’s my fault for asking. Get over here and take your niece already.”

Tango does so happily, cooing at the girl in a way that makes her laugh and clap her little hands together even though her bottle’s been momentarily taken away. Of course he’s magically good with babies. Sounds about right when it comes to Tango.

Dex grabs his discarded backpack and heads for the basement, emotionally exhausted. The last thirty minutes have been a bit of a rollercoaster and he will be happy to hole himself in his bungalow and not deal with people for the next several hours.

Except that Nursey follows him.

He stays a couple steps behind Dex and doesn’t say a word all the way into the bungalow.

Dex tosses his backpack onto his desk chair and stands facing the bed instead of Nursey. He closes his eyes and exhales, feeling his entire body deflate with it. “So I guess I don’t get any take-backs on that last one, huh?”

“If you really want one I’ll give it to you, but I’m kinda hoping you don’t.”

Dex’s eyes snap open, but his body remains rooted to the spot, scared to face whatever Nursey’s expression is doing behind him. “And why’s that?” he asks, a little shaky.

“Come on, Poindexter, you have to know.” Dex feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been pigtail pulling for years now, Will. It’s kinda gotten embarrassing.”

Dex finally turns around, struggling not to smile. “You’ve always been embarrassing.”

Nursey’s face is a thing of beauty. On any given day it could probably launch ships and start wars, but right now, broken open in Nursey’s apparent happiness and wonder, it’s the most breathtaking thing Dex has ever seen.

“I have it on good authority that you like me anyway.” Nursey smirks.

The smile Dex was fighting breaks free as Nursey closes the distance between them. He starts to lean in, but Dex puts a hand up to stop him. “Wait.”

Nursey’s brow furrows in confusion, his lips forming a small frown that’s almost more pout. It is totally not adorable.

“I meant it about this probably ending in disaster. We don’t share a room anymore but we still do live in the same house and are on the same team and share the same best friend. There’s a lot of ways for us to fuck things up.”

Nursey tilts his head to the side, considering. After a moment he nods. “Alright, what if we did, like, a contract? Kinda how we probably should’ve done for the roommates situation. We can go over boundaries, and possible consequences, and... I don’t know, just make sure we’re on the same page and are playing by the same rules.”

Dex blinks, a little stunned. “That is a surprisingly mature suggestion for someone who nearly just shit himself at the prospect of being responsible for a small child.”

“Hey, babies are scary!”

“Don’t tell my mom that.”

“What? Why?”

“Because on the phone earlier she asked me to get your opinion on whether or not we should adopt.”

Nursey chokes on air. If he’d been drinking something that would’ve been a legitimate spit take.

“Okay, rule one on this contract,” he tells Dex firmly, “is that all discussions of future child acquisition get tabled until after we graduate.”

Dex smiles. “You think we’ll make it all the way to then?”

“Well I’m gonna damn well try to, Poindexter.”

And how can Dex not kiss him at that?

It’s slow at first, lingering presses of lips against lips, over and over again because neither of them want to be pulling away at all. And then eventually it turns a little more heated, Nursey’s hands in Will’s hair and wrapped around his waist, Dex’s hands fisted in the back of Nursey’s shirt.

“Okay, okay,” Dex pants against Nursey’s kiss swollen lips, “anymore than this should probably wait until after the first couple dates.”

A low noise escapes from the back of Nursey’s throat that could almost be described as a whine, but he swallows and nods, his nose brushing up and down the apple of Dex’s cheek with the motion. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Contract first.”

“I hate how much it turns me on when you’re being all responsible and shit.”

“I hate how much it turns me on when you’re being all self-aware and shit.”

Nursey snorts. “I’m still working on that one, so don’t expect it to come up often.”

Dex takes a step back so that he’s no longer tempted to keep making out, and then sits down on the edge of the bed. “Wanna go get dinner with me tomorrow? As a date, just to be clear.”

Nursey makes a show of thinking this over and then stretching, the movement lifting his shirt up enough that Dex gets a nice view of his lower abs and the trail of hair that leads down into his jeans. The show off.

Not that Dex is complaining. But he is still gonna chirp the hell out of Nursey the next time he does it.

“Yeah, count me in,” Nursey replies with a smile. “As long as we’re considering that our first date, and not the Adventures in Babysitting we had to go through today.”

“Deal.”

From upstairs they can hear the clear sounds of a baby’s laughter, before the sound of the front door shutting as Tango leaves with Addie. They both breathe sighs of relief, and then meet eyes and grin at each other.

“If we can successfully handle a surprise baby, we can fumble our way through a relationship,” Nursey says matter-of-factly.

Dex hoists himself up briefly and kisses him again, quick and certain. “As long as I keep my mom on speed-dial, I think we’ll be okay.”

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

Sis where is part 9 for the runaway saga??! It’s so good!!! I can’t wait to read what Michael and Jim’s reaction will be and what exactly Y/N did with the babies. Keep up the great work!!! Also pls let Dunc be happy ):

I’m back back back again with Part 9 after the LONGEST BREAK! I beg for your forgiveness as I humbly offer you all the next instalment. I’m going to drop this and go hide behind Jerome 🙈😭

So without further ado….

——————————————————————————————-

MICHAEL

His hands shake, those signature rings flash taunts at him. They ridicule and mock him for making one more idiotic choice in the long list that have made up his life. 

He’s toxic to everyone he touches. 

Why Michael ever thought it was a clever idea to breed….to make another nightmare come to life. 

The Jerome man sits beside him on the sofa. He moved over when Jim stormed over to the balcony, Duncan hot on his heels. Y/N has taken the armchair, her arms wrapped around herself.

She watches Michael carefully, as if he’s a bomb ready to explode. ‘Say something, Michael…please.’ 

But he can’t. There are no words that will come to him, because if Michael speaks he’ll overflow and all the rage, hurt and grief will ebb like a tidal wave and he must be strong. 

Despite his world collapsing he must be strong. 

‘What are the implications for you?’ Jerome asks Y/N. ‘There’s no direct consequence here for you, is there?’

‘It doesn’t seem so.’ Y/N answers, ‘But…we’re not exactly dealing with a normal baby here.’ 

Jerome’s lips quirk up into a grin, ‘You could never do anything normal, could you?’

Y/N smiles back, ‘Getting involved in a foursome. No, I don’t think that’s norm for most people.’ 

‘Get rid of it.’ 

Both Y/N and Jerome’s head snap to the balcony. Jim stands there with eyes of fire. His hands flex into fists and then release as he stalks over to Michael. The Antichrist stands, knowing the fight was about to come sooner or later when Jim’s fist slams into his jaw. The crack resounds around the room from a blow that would have anyone fully human unconscious. 

Slowly, ever so slowly Michael turns his head back to face Jim. But the boy isn’t done. He lands the second punch to Michael’s jaw, an uppercut and Michael feels something crunch from the impact. Duncan’s arms fling themselves around Jim right as the boy is about the launch himself at Michael. ‘LET ME KILL HIM!’ 

Y/N has sprung to her feet. She puts her hands on Jim’s shoulders, looking directly into his eyes. ‘You lay another finger on him Jim and you’ll be out!’ 

The beach boy’s eyes are crazed by now, ‘You’re defending him. HIM!’ He manages to shove Duncan off him, a finger jabbing in Michael’s direction. ‘HE’S GOING TO KILL MY CHILD!’ 

‘We’ll find a way.’ Y/N is adamant, her hands still holding onto Jim. ‘I’m not letting anything happen to these babies.’ She glances to Michael, ‘Either of them.’ 

‘Cool it, Jim.’ Duncan hisses in his ear, ‘This is not the place.’ 

‘Easy for you to say.’ Jim bites back, ‘What have you got in this? Nothing?’

The weight of Jim’s words hits Duncan. He lets the boy go and he charges for Michael. The Antichrist does nothing. He knows he deserves it, every single atom of Jim’s rage he deserves. Jim raises his fist again, his eyes focused on where he can do the most damage. Michael just watches him, waiting for the blow. 

‘Jim.’ Y/N speaks again, ‘Don’t.’ 

He wavers and then Jim’s fist falls by his side. He glowers at Michael and then keels down into a crouch, ‘FUCK!’ 

‘You’re right.’ Michael whispers, ‘I…I don’t know what I was thinking.’ His eyes flick to Duncan, ‘I was jealous. You had Y/N and Duncan had just taken her. I was enraged and I did what I always do. I make a mess. I ruin everything.’ Michael knows his eyes are glassy, but he can’t stop himself. ‘But things will be different. I won’t let it go the way my birth did, Jim. I swear it to you. I swear it on Y/N’s life.’ 

‘That doesn’t mean shit to me.’ Jim hisses, ‘You and your genes are cancer.’ 

It’s like bearing the weight of a hundred gunshots. Michael staggers back, Jim’s words far more painful than any physical blow. 

‘You take that back.’ Y/N says, ‘Right now.’

‘And still you defend him.’ Jim rounds on her, throwing his arms out to the side. 

‘Back off, man.’ Jerome puts himself in front of Y/N. ‘Think of the babies, sport. Stress isn’t good for a pregnant mother.’ 

‘His baby monster is killing mine and you stand there and defend him till the end of your days.’ 

‘I believe in Michael.’ Y/N shoots back, ‘I know he would never let anything happen to your child, Jim.’ 

Jim looks to Duncan for back-up. The Media Mogul hesitates, his eyes flashing round the room. Michael can feel the turmoil radiating off him, but Michael cannot suppress the one thought rocking round Duncan Shepherd’s mind. 

They aren’t his. He’s lost.

‘We monitor the pregnancy.’ Duncan decides, ‘Right now Jim’s baby is the smallest because he’s the runt. But if this….this alpha baby starts depriving him.’ His eyes fix on Michael, ‘We’ll have to take action.’ 

There’s a horrible silence and then Y/N’s hand slips over her stomach. ‘No matter what any of you say. I’m not losing my babies. Not for anything.’ 

‘But you’ll let mine die.’

’That isn’t going to happen, Jim!’ Y/N repeats, her voice rising again. ‘You are so cynical about everything-’

Jim’s lip cocks up into a sneer, ‘I never had a shot with you.’ He says, ‘It’s always gonna be him. It’s always gonna be Michael Langdon, the spawn of the literal devil. You know I risked everything for you. I moved from PV, I don’t speak to my sister much anymore, I’m penniless and living in this fucking apartment under Duncan’s nose because I stand not being near you. And what is it all for? You’ll always choose him.’ Jim’s eyes flick back to Duncan, ‘We were never a long-standing option.’ 

‘That’s not true.’ Michael has to pipe up, ‘You weren’t with her when things fell apart. Y/N…she was miserable. We both were.’ 

‘The fact remains Michael,’ Duncan interjects, ‘That your child has the potential to end Jim’s. Just like what happened with you and Jeffrey.’ 

‘Don’t.’ Michael pleads, his voice catching. ‘I didn’t mean to. I had no idea! And neither does the baby. I’ll….I’ll talk to them.’ 

Jim heads back out onto the balcony. He swipes a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, inhaling a large puff of smoke. Y/N watches him, her mouth hanging slightly open. The despair is clear in her eyes as she walks over to Duncan. He slides his arms around her at once, pulling her into his chest. ‘It isn’t true.’ She says, ‘I love all of you so much. I just want things how they used to be.’ 

Duncan simply nods, holding her against him. 

——————————————————————————————-

DUNCAN

The moment passes in silence as Y/N calms down, getting ahold of her breathing. She feels so good against him, warm and soft. Duncan can only imagine the bump that will soon be between them, those little babies sheltered in Y/N’s stomach. 

Babies that aren’t his. 

Duncan has been trying to shield his thoughts from Michael, but he knows it’s impossible. It’s selfish, he knows that too. But Duncan would be lying if he said that a part of him did not die on hearing that irrevocable news. 

So he’ll take whatever he can get before he’s pushed out. Before the twins become the most important thing in his loved one’s lives. 

Y/N clings to him like a child, her nose pressed into him. She inhales his aftershave, before looking up at him. ‘I’m so sorry, Duncan.’ 

He forces a smile, ‘Don’t be. You’re giving birth to two beautiful babies. You’ll be an excellent mother.’ 

Y/N looks as if she’s going to say something, but she holds her tongue. She nods against him as Jerome steps over to Michael. The Salesman pulls a face, ‘You’re uh…bleeding there.’ 

He’s not wrong. Michael looks like shit. Jim got him good, a shiner forming round his right eye while his nose has swollen like a clown’s. Michael’s fingers prod at his nose and winces. It must feel tender, swollen. There’s blood gushing from his nostrils. 

Duncan shoves down the pang of sympathy forming in his gut. 

He knew what he was doing. He know how this would turn out. 

Y/N breaks away from Duncan to take hold of Michael by the jaw, inspecting him. ‘This is too far.’ She murmurs, taking some tissue and holding it under Michael’s nose. 

‘No.’ He says, ‘Jim’s within his right to be angry.’ 

‘You should….get that seen to.’ Duncan offers, lamely. He’s laced his fingers together for something to do. He looks to Jerome who just twists his mouth into a crease before sinking onto the couch. ‘Fuck me.’ He mutters, ‘Twins.’ 

‘This doesn’t mean you aren’t as important.’ It seems Michael couldn’t hold back from voicing his thoughts. ‘Just cause-’

‘Thank you.’ Duncan says, cutting him off quickly. He looks between Michael and Y/N. They always looks so perfect next to each other, ready to conquer the world and annihilate it. ‘Well….my apartment is always available. A kind of…safe space between you both.’ 

‘You’d do that?’ The wonder is clear in Michael’s voice. 

‘Yeah.’ Duncan says, ‘No offence but…I don’t trust either of you right now and…Jerome’s right…we shouldn’t stress the kids.’ 

Michael nods to himself, lost in his own thoughts. ‘I’ll…..leave for now then.’ 

‘You don’t have to go anywhere.’ Y/N insists, ‘Not right now. I don’t think you should be alone.’ 

‘I’ll be fine.’ Michael chokes out the lie, ‘I promise.’ He places a kiss on her cheeks, whispering something Duncan can’t hear. Y/N breaks out into a smile though, her hand rubbing his shoulder. 

Michael approaches the balcony, leaning against it. ‘Jim,’ He calls. ‘I’m leaving now.’ 

‘Good.’ Jim doesn’t look at Michael. He just continues rolling his cigarette between his fingers. 

‘Jim I know you’re hurting right now.’ Michael keeps trying, ‘I know you don’t want to listen to me and that you despise me right now. But I love you and your baby. I would never do anything to hurt either of you, or Y/N.’ Y/N joins Duncan, leaning against him slightly. She laces the fingers of her left hand in his, Duncan’s thumb running over them. He watches Michael toss his hair over his shoulder and finally square his shoulders. ‘But I love my child too.’ The Antichrist says, ‘And I am going to do everything and anything to make sure they come into this world. Nothing will get in the way of that.’ 

Jim tenses, clearly listening to every single word. Michael takes his leave, sweeping from the apartment with a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ He says, ‘Look after them, please.’ 

‘We will.’ Jerome chirps, waving Michael off. 

A muscle in Michael’s jaw twitches, but he says nothing to the Travelling Salesman. The moment the front door is closed, Duncan turns to Jerome. ‘Let’s get one thing crystal clear.’ He says, ‘I appreciate all you’ve done, I really do. But this is my house and you’re with people I love. That doesn’t mean you’re on an equal plateau.’ 

‘I’m just pointing out that you’re at work 24/7.’ Jerome’s says, ‘And if this is a safe spot that means fisticuffs can’t stay here either.’ 

Jim re-enters at that moments, ‘The fuck? I’m staying with my kid.’ 

‘Actually he has a point.’ Y/N moves over to take Jim’s hands in hers. ’Till this is sorted out, I think it’s best we get you a hotel room.’ 

Duncan nods, ‘Just because that way there’s no claiming, or any of that shit.’ He explains quickly, ‘You both can visit Y/N whenever you like and there’s no…underhand stuff.’

‘Meanwhile you get to play happy families.’ Jim eyes Duncan, ‘I know what you’re doing, I’m not dumb.’

‘Our…associate makes a point.’ Duncan sighs, ‘I do have work. Which means that I can’t support Y/N as much as I would like to. Even by working remotely.’ 

‘Sounds like more reason for me to stay-’ 

‘Or, I have Jerome stick around.’ Y/N cuts Jim off. 

The Salesman breaks out into a grin, ‘You know I do need a place to stay for a couple’a months.’ 

Duncan blinks, ‘Absolutely not.’

‘You just said you don’t have the time to take care of me.’ Y/N says, ‘Who better to help than a friend?’ 

‘No.’ Jim and Duncan say it at the same time.

‘Too bad you don’t get the final say.’ Y/N heads into the kitchen. She rummages in the fridge and produces a can of coke and the sandwich Duncan was saving for lunch tomorrow. ‘Jerome stays. Jim goes to a hotel but can visit whenever he likes, as can Michael.’ 

‘And if this killer baby turns deadly?’ Jim asks, arcing an eyebrow at her.

‘We cross that if it happens.’ Y/N takes a huge bite of Duncan’s sandwich, cracking the can open. 

Jerome smirks, patting Duncan on the shoulder as he floats towards the bedrooms, ‘Guess I’m you’re new nanny. I’ll go unpack my briefcase.’ 

——————————————————————————————-

TAGGING: @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @langdonsinferno @pastel-cloudz @misslanabananaa @lovelykhaleesiii napping-is-my-favorite@tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning @lvngdvns @ccodyfernn @asstichrist@yourkingcodyfern @langdonsdemon @satcnas @russianspacegeckosexparty @rosy-pugs@luxuryglitterhoe@langdonsoceaneyes @sodanova @petersfern-fics@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sassylangdon@confettucini@sammythankyou @wroteclassicaly@Sloppy-Wrist@Langdonalien@alexcornerblog @sevenwondr @queencocoakimmie@sojournmichael@langdonsdemon @satcnaskinlovecody@kylosbabe@americanhorrorstudies@xxpixiefromdixiexx@elenareginaauditore@dadddysprincessss@gremlinkween @readsalot73@astir-bread @i-will-die-for-jim-mason@ms-mead @mega-combusken@hanhanxx @kahhlo@thelangdoncooperative @dark-duncan @sojournmichael@langdonsrapture@ritualmichael@cryptid-coalition @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26@infernal-langdon @jim-mason2 @duncandimension @dark-jim @jimmlangdon @xtheinevitableprophecyx @moontheweirdpan @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown @bbyduncan @divinelangdon @venusxxlangdon @theladynymph@xlangdons-evilbabygirlx​

[the-mykie-show]

Leather and Lace (part 3)

Before the apocalypse Negan was your favorite teacher who you also had a massive crush on, the two of you are reunited in Alexandria and you discover that the fire between you is far from extinguished.

Requests are open

*rating* explicit.

*warnings* graphic descriptions of sex, graphic descriptions of violence.

You pack your belongings into the back seat of Negan's Charger in your driveway, it takes two trips even with the Saviors helping while Negan stood by giving the Alexandrians a glare that said “say it and die” having morphed back into ruthless leader mode, his eyes becoming steely and cold, and his demeanor at attention and intimidating, with Lucille on his shoulder serving as a constant threat. He looks like a different man to the one you were just with inside the privacy of your house.

You could tell that Rick and the Alexandrians had something to say about your decision to leave with Negan, and they more than likely knew you'd slept with him. They must hate you now.

You're placing the last box in the back seat when you see a familiar face cutting through the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to gawk at you, it's your ex boyfriend's sister, you didn't know her well but you knew her nonetheless.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” she asks. At first you're worried she thinks Negan is forcing you to go with him, and you don't notice the anger in her eyes before you reassure her.

“Nothing I don't want,” you whisper to her, making sure the rest of the crowd doesn't hear.

“Oh I know, you're just a whore.” you look at her taken aback “How could you sleep with him? How could you do that to my brother? Your community? He killed our friends. What the fuck is wrong with you?” you're too shocked to respond, and even more shocked when she cocks her arm back and slaps you across the face.

You almost fall over, and after everything happens so fast, several Saviors are grabbing her and throwing her to the ground, Negan's hand is on your shoulder helping you to stand up straight.

“What the fuck, Rick?!” Negan yells “This is some unacceptable shit.” you know he's about to kill someone if you don't stop him.

“No, no Negan, it's fine.” you stand up, gingerly touching your cheek where it violently stings. “you don't have to punish anyone, let's just go.” your fingers come away bloody, she must've scratched you deep enough to break the skin.

“It sure as fuck is not fine, sweetheart.” you reach out to lay a hand on his arm, pleading him with your eyes “But ya know what, Rick? I'll let this one slide with a warning for her. But if your people ever lay a hand on my people again there will be consequences. Got it?” Rick nods and the Saviors let your attacker get up, roughly shoving her back towards her house.

You get in Negan's car without even saying goodbye to anyone. You're not wanted here anymore and you'd made your choice. You pull down the visor and check yourself in the mirror, your cheek is bruised, and deep scratch runs across your cheekbone. It's nothing you can't handle, you've had way worse injuries and taken way harder hits, it's what the minor wound stands for that makes you feel sick to your stomach. Negan joins you after a while, sitting Lucille on the console between you, and sliding the key in the ignition.

Negan's hand grips your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts. “You okay, baby?” you can tell he's worried that you're having second thoughts and what he's going to do if you are, considering the fact your community probably wouldn't take you back.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

He doesn't need you to tell him about what. “I know this wasn't an easy decision for you to make, but I'm glad you made it. You'll be happy at the Sanctuary, I'll take care of you.” he reassures you.

“I know you will.” you smile.

“Good. Now what do you say we go home?” you nod.

The three hour ride back to the Sanctuary is quiet, Negan focusing on the road and you getting lost in your thoughts you both lapse into a comfortable silence until you see a looming factory building aporching on the horizon, the gates abnored with two imposing statues of angels, the once shining white paint is cracked, you can't help but cringe when you notice that the statues are draped with decomposing human hands on chains. You knew Negan enforced eye-for-an-eye punishments but you didn't realize it was that biblical.

He sees you eyeballing the statues as you drive passed them “it's just a scare tactic, honey, keeps the riff raff out, most are hands from the dead ones.” he reassures you.

“And the ones that aren't?” you're almost afraid to ask.

“Men who put their hands where they shouldn't have been. Some stole medicine, medicine that others needed too, risked lives out of selfishness and laziness. Some hit their wives or girlfriends, which is something I absolutely do not stand for. If they can't keep their hands off their woman they just don't deserve to have hands anymore.” he explained, it isn't as bad as you feared it would be. Brutal, yes, but it was violence with a purpose, and that purpose was protecting his people.

Several men push aside chain link gates, letting the convoy pull through into a dusty yard, bordered by more chain link fence with rows of the dead chained to them, you would assume it's another scare tactic to “keep the riff raff out” as Negan put it.

Negan gestures to a couple of the Saviors “Take her bags to my room, and unload the rest of this shit as usual. I'm gonna show our new guest around a little bit.” he throws an arm around your waist and leads you towards the stairs leading up a set of double doors. Negan shoves them open and stepped out onto a platform overlooking the factory floor with his signature whistle.

Bellow you on the factory floor a market place has been set up, small wooden booths sell clothes, toiletries, food, there's even a pharmacy, and someone selling homemade potato chips. The moment everyone sees Negan they drop to their knee, as if they're kneeling in reverence of him. You glance from him to the kneeling crowd.

“Pretty awesome huh?” he says with a smirk “They respect the shit outta me, and they'll respect you too.” his hand strokes down your back “As you were.” he shouts and the crowd rises to their feet and go back to their jobs.

“Everyone here has a job, they earn points with that job, it works as a currency, and they buy what they need to live. Food, meds, luxury items, the works. You don't have to worry about points though.” he explained as you walk with him through the makeshift marketplace.

“Why not?” you ask, your brow furrowing.

“Because you made the exempt list darlin’ reserved only for my Saviors, my top workers, and any special ladies in my life.” part of you feels a pang of jealousy at the plural, but Negan was clearly a man with an appetite and it wasn't like the two of you were exactly official… Or even in a traditional relationship for that matter.

“So my job is what? Fucking you?” you ask.

“Yes and no. You can most certainly choose that to be your one and only job if it's what you want and you won't catch me complaining. But if it's not you can help out in other areas too.” you can tell the workers are already a little afraid of you, and you shoot a reassuring smile at an older lady selling baby items.

“I think you already know what my answer is.” you reply, making Negan chuckle but nod, agreeing to find you a more useful job then having sex with him.

Negan shows you the marketplace, the dining hall, the rec rooms where they actually have tvs that play old DVDs and VHS tapes, video games, and a small collection of communal CDs, and one room that actually serves as a working bar. There's also an infirmary, and a makeshift school for the kids.

Negan's room is on the top floor of the Sanctuary, looking at it you wouldn't ever think beyond the mahogany double doors the apocalypse was happening. It's surprisingly clean for a man's bedroom, plush rugs cover the cement floor, the wall of mismatched colored glass windows is covered with black curtains, and several black leather couches and chairs are arranged around a glass coffee table, but the first thing you notice when you walk in is the four poster, king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

The bed Negan wastes no time in throwing you down on. You still feel a dull ache between your legs left over from the pounding you took from Negan that morning, but nonetheless the moment you feel his lips against your neck the familiar throb of arousal is back in full force. Negan was damn near insatiable and you loved it.

Laying back against the pillows, you enjoy the feeling of his scuff scratching against your skin, and the soft sucking of his mouth against that sensitive little spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You could get use to this. He pulls your shirt over your head, and somehow managed to unclasp your bra one handed while his other hand slides down to pull the garment off.

He slowly makes his way down to your breasts, sucking and nipping your skin as he goes, sometimes hard enough you're sure it's going to leave a mark, but you don't care. In fact for the first time in your life you like the idea of being marked up, a little reminder that you're his now.

His tongue slowly circles your nipple when he finally reached it. “Goddamn! You taste so fucking good, I'll never get tired of it.” he moans against your overly sensitive bud, and you would never get tired of him tasting you.

Once he's sucked your nipple into a hard peak he moved onto the other. He stands up, helping you out of your jeans before stripping off his own shirt. You stay laying back, leaning on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him to lift your legs onto his shoulders and bury his face between your legs. You know that's what he wants. But instead Negan flops down on his back next to you.

“Sit up, babygirl. I wanna try something.” you give him a curious look but do as he says, sitting up on your knees. He pulls you so that you're straddling him. “You ever had a guy eat you out like this?” he asked, and it dawns on you that he wants you to sit on his face.

“No.” you admit, and for the first time since your reunion with Negan you actually feel the age difference, he's a lot more experienced than you are. It's a little awkward, but oddly a turn on at the same time.

“Well then come on.” he pulls you further up his body so you're hovering just over his face, you feel so exposed and vulnerable to him even though you're technically the one in control.

“Negan, wait. Isn't this gonna like… Suffocate you?” you feel your face get hot at the question.

He laughs “I mean we all die sometime or another and literally drowning in pussy seems like a damn good way to go out.” you stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“I'm just giving you shit, sweetheart. It'll be fine, you'll like it,trust me.” you finally relent, nodding and straddling his face. Negan looks like a kid in a candy store as you lower yourself down onto his mouth. His tongue eagerly finds your swollen bundle of nerves, lapping up the wetness that had gathered there. It feels different from this angle, more intense. When his tongue circles your entrance and slips inside you it goes deeper than you thought possible, you moan loudly at the sensenation, your hips involuntarily bucking against him.

He gladly let's you thrust yourself against his mouth, licking and sucking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, and lapping up your arsoual. You become more comfortable, gripping the headboard and moving your hips against his mouth, working his tongue right where you want it. His hands grip your hips, helping you thrust.

You never thought you'd enjoy this as much as you are, and judging by the moans coming from him, he's enjoying it almost as much as you are.

Your orgasm builds quickly, and sneaks up on you, it's the most intense orgasm you've ever had from having a man's tongue between your legs.

As soon as you've come down for your high he lays you down on the bed. “See, told you that you'd love it.” he said, shooting you his signature cocky smirk.

“that you did. Now it's my turn.” you crawl over him, your hands undoing his belt. He lifts his hips, helping you yank his pants down to let his erection spring free.

Once his cock is free and in your face you lose some of your bravado, you really aren't that experienced with blow jobs, and you've never given one to a man as well endowed as Negan. You feel like a virginal high school girl all over again, he really had a way of bringing that out of you.

Oh well, too late now, you'd have to try.

Taking a deep breath, you grip him by the base, and slowly trace the vein on the underside of his manhood with your tongue making his hips twitch, and then move to suck on his tip, tasting the slightly bitter precome that had gathered there. A deep moan leaves his lips, his head is thrown back against the pillow, seeing Negan like that gave you a little confidence boost.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you swallow his cock as far into the back of your throat as you can, hollowing your cheeks with a hard suck you fight your gag reflex. Your hand squeezes his balls, forcing a guttural moan out of Negan.

"OH goddammit! that's it baby" he groans and you double your efforts, making your eyes water as you bob your head up and down, letting the swollen head hit the back of your throat each time you take him all the way in.

You feel his hand slip between your legs, long, nimble fingers teasing your over stimulated clit, and dipping inside your core, still wet from your orgasm and his tongue. You moan around his shaft at the feeling of his fingers filling you. He slowly thrusts them in and out a few times, rubbing your g-spot, while you suck teasingly on the head of his manhood, licking the precome away from the slit all the while.

Then you feel the pad of his index finger slide further back from your entrance rubbing against the tight ring of muscle of your ass, you jump in surprise, but don't protest. It feels both strange and good at the same time.

"You okay with this, babygirl?" you nod, still licking at the tip of his cock. He rubs a bit harder, lowering his other hand to tease your clit, he only stops when the pleasure of having your mouth wrapped around his shaft becomes too much, and he finds his release. He gives you fair warning before he blows his load, but you let him come in the back of your throat, sucking him clean and continuing to tease his overstimulated tip with your tongue until he pulls you off.

"That's enough of that baby, now why don't you let daddy see that tight little ass?" hearing him refer to himself as "daddy" does something to you that you never thought it would. He spreads you out on your stomach across his bed, parting your legs to expose your still dripping pussy. He massages your asshole with his middle finger, using your natural lube to work the tip just barely inside you, it feels very foreign and a little uncomfortable.

"You've really never had anything in there huh?" he asks.

"No." you say. You hear him open his nightstand drawer, and tense up at the sound of the cap coming off a bottle of lube.

"I do love a tight little virgin ass. The look on a woman's face first time she feels it being stretched? Oh now that's priceless." You feel a large drop of the cool liquid pool between your asschecks.

"Close your eyes for me, sweetheart." he orders, and you follow. You hear movement and rustling as the lube starts to run down to your pussy. You feel something press against the tight ring of muscle, your eyes shoot open, it slowly slides inside you, making you moan in both pleasure and discomfort. It's not his finger, it's smaller, more round, and feels like…Rubber.

Then you remember your anal beads, the ones you'd never gotten the chance to use before Negan came back into your life.

He presses the next bead inside you, it's a little bigger then the first and you're shocked at how deep inside you the beads feel already. You wonder if he's going to turn on the vibrations.

"You doing okay, babygirl?" he asks.

"Yeah… It just feels weird, but good weird." you admit. He pushes the next bead inside you, it's even bigger and intensifies the stretching feeling.

He keeps going, and the beads keep getting bigger, until you feel so unbelievably full you're not sure you can take anymore when he presses the last bead inside you. Once he's satisfied with his handiwork you feel him spread your ass cheeks to admire it.

"Damn I knew these were going to be useful. That little ass all full for me is fuckin' perfect." his fingers begin exploring your folds again, his other hand begins pumping his manhood.

A load, violent knocking sounds at Negan's bedroom door. "we're kinda busy in here!" he yells.

"We got a problem out here, boss!" a man's voice calls from the other side of the door.

"I don't fucking care, fix it." Negan growls, the anger replacing arousal in his voice.

"Well that's the thing sir… We can't." the man sounds scared, sheepish, he probably knows what he's interpreting you realize with embarrassment.

"You can't? Of course you fucking can't! I'll be right there to wipe your stupid asses for you just give me one second." he groans in frustration, letting his already softening cock slip from his fingers, he begins hunting around the room for his clothes.

" You're leaving? Right now?" you ask, still laying naked in your position on the bed.

"Believe me, I'm no happier about it then you are, sweetheart." he was actually going to leave you like this? Wet and needy with your ass filled with anal beads he'd spent 30 minutes pressing inside you?

"Hey, I'll make it up to you." he reassures you as he puts back on his leather jacket. "In fact why don't I start now. Leave those beads in for me, I won't be too long, there's a few ground rules though." he picks up Lucille and swings the bat to its place on his shoulder. "you don't turn the beads on, and you don't make yourself come, but I am gonna have to ask you to keep that little pussy nice and wet for daddy, so you just slip a finger in there every once in awhile, tickle your clit a little bit, just enough to keep it real hard and swollen. Maybe walk around a little, get that virgin ass use to being full." he laughs.

"And if you're good, I'll turn those beads on when I get back." you whimper in frustration when he slams the door, leaving you to wonder if possible women could get blue balls?

*Author's note* remember to follow me on AO3 under The_mykie_show if you want to actually be notified when I post and see fics at least a day before they're published on this hell site.

[quicklyseverebird]

Question for pro-choicers cont

*previous post inserted since the poster has apparently blocked me from reposting.  Or maybe tumblr is acting up again….*

 pro-abortion-rights

You claim that abortion is murder and, in the same breath, that you intend no moral judgment about the intentionally cherry-picked most repugnant of the reasons people commit murder. How convincing! The joke is that you have the exact same moral hierarchy since you too believe that bodily autonomy may be exercised for bigoted reasons.

Imagine not understanding the concept of “for the sake of argument.”Pro-choicers don’t actually concede the point on fetal personhood, they assume it for the sake of argument with anti-abortionists because it doesn’t actually matter either way. It’s an argumentative tactic, not a concession, but keep imagining you’ve scored the point if it helps you feel better.

Lethal self-defense may be used to prevent death or great bodily harm. You want to talk about great bodily harm? I have a four-inch scar across my lower abdomen from a C-section to deliver the three-year-old that’s playing next to me right now. Earlier in my pregnancy I had a brief cancer scare whose treatment I was going to put off until after birth to avoid harming the fetus. And mine was a HEALTHY pregnancy–I was lucky enough that it wasn’t cancer, and I had no more than the “normal” symptoms in pregnancy. I worked out every day, climbing 15 flights of steps. I still had to write much of my Ph.D. thesis in bed because sitting up was so hard and when my due date came I was in labor for three days, feeling like I was being ground under a wheel the whole time, and in the end I had to get an emergency C-section. I had a hard time moving for weeks. And this was with all the latest technology available.

Great bodily harm? You bet your ass, son. I took on all of this willingly because I wanted a baby with all my heart and that was the only reason I could bear it. Forcing ANY of the above on someone who doesn’t want it when it can be safely prevented is fucking monstrous. “Imagined peril?” Yeah, right. I’m sure I’m imagining my entire pregnancy and birth and the kid. And mine was, again, a healthy pregnancy where almost everything went well and I had access to the best medical technology and humane medical care. No one can tell when something is going to go wrong in pregnancy and childbirth, and even if nothing goes “wrong” it is significantly taxing and injurious on the body.

Hmm soooo your analogy of abortion to putting a gun to someone’s head is total bullshit and you’re not okay with pregnant people changing or otherwise impacting their OWN bodies in order to end their pregnancies, either? So now you’re resorting to the intent to end the fetus’s life instead of the specific method used. Even if the primary intent is to end the pregnancy and the fetus’s death is a corollary to that, much like the person who refuses a blood or bone marrow donation, right? Does your back hurt to carry around the goalposts like that?

No, the people who use desperate and injurious means to try and end their pregnancies are distraught because people like you denied them a safe and dignified abortion. I’ve noticed before that anti-abortionists think women (while keeping the caveat that not all people who can get pregnant are women, not that most of your crowd admits it) have to be literally crazy not to want to have a baby and you’re sure that if we just knew the truth we wouldn’t do it. Nope, some of us just don’t want to have a baby, because some people with uteruses don’t! Get that through your head lol.

Also, self-defense doesn’t require the fetus be at blame in order to be justified, and here is where your fallacious and disingenuous conflation of conceding personhood for the sake of argument and actually conceding personhood does actual harm. We know, like anyone with the most basic understanding of the world knows, that the fetus does not mean harm and cannot mean to do anything. Their lack of intent does nothing to lessen the actual harm of pregnancy, however, because intent does not equal impact.

Also your coward’s way to wriggle out of the politically inexpedient specter of forcibly hospitalizing and jailing abortion clients is to infantilize and condescend to women instead of demonizing us. Lmaooooo because that’s so much humanizing. Not. This is what it looks like when you don’t have the strength of your own conviction and resort to sexism instead. Too bad, because your fellow “pro-lifers” are indeed jailing women for miscarriages and suicide attempts (link). I’m sure you’re upset by that because these women are just victims, right? Nah you’re not, you’re just out there electing the people who do this, who cut public support for women and babies (CPCs don’t count lmao like abortion scaremongering, diapers, and useless ultrasounds done by unlicensed personnel are enough support to have and raise a baby?? [link]), who make life precarious for families so fewer people will WANT to have babies, and making sure more women will be injured and die from unsafe abortions. Mission accomplished!

      “The joke is that you have the exact same moral hierarchy since you too believe that bodily autonomy may be exercised for bigoted reasons.”

And you got this from my post….how exactly?  No seriously, explain this.

“Pro-choicers don’t actually concede the point on fetal personhood, they assume it for the sake of argument with anti-abortionists because it doesn’t actually matter either way. It’s an argumentative tactic, not a concession, but keep imagining you’ve scored the point if it helps you feel better.”

Well since I’ve heard members of your group state outright that they know and accept (with no handy little “for argument’s sake” caveats included mind you) the unborn child is a person, etc, would kind of undermine that notion.  Unless you’re now saying you’re lying.  And of course, for your whole argument of self-defense to fly, they must be persons/actors as well to defend yourself against…  But sure, backpedal if it helps you feel better.

32 hour labor, followed by C-section as well, followed by infection and adhesions here.  High five, sister.  Yet I remind you, that your entire argument for self-defense involves criminalizing an unborn child.  A child that had no say in being where it was or what is happening to it.  A natural, biological process.  The vast majority of which were placed there consensually.  I know you always like to go to the extreme cases of rape, incest, medical emergencies etc to make your point, but those are a minuscule fraction of abortion cases.  I’m sorry, you do not get to say, “oops, I didn’t mean that to happen” and then use that, with the natural results of said actions to kill another person. No.  You don’t.  That is sick and perverse.  A life is in your hands because of your own choices.  You DO NOT have the right to kill it because you don’t like the consequences.  Does that mean discomfort, yes.  Does that even mean a chance of medical complications like we both faced?  Yes.  Life is hard. It means having to deal with the results of your actions, even when those involve pain and discomfort.  I don’t get to murder someone because there is a chance I might break my leg.  I’m sorry, I do not see murder—and I maintain it is murder, not self defense—as a viable option.  The fact you do, I find disturbing.

 “Hmm soooo your analogy of abortion to putting a gun to someone’s head is total bullshit and you’re not okay with pregnant people changing or otherwise impacting their OWN bodies in order to end their pregnancies, either? So now you’re resorting to the intent to end the fetus’s life instead of the specific method used. Even if the primary intent is to end the pregnancy and the fetus’s death is a corollary to that, much like the person who refuses a blood or bone marrow donation, right? Does your back hurt to carry around the goalposts like that?”

 I’m not okay with people taking actions to deliberately end their unborn child’s life.  No.  The specific method never mattered, only the outcome and intent.  I don’t see how I ever gave you reason to think I believed otherwise.  Where did I do so?  My goalposts have never moved.  Every example you gave was a deliberate attempt to kill their child.  It’s no different than whether someone chooses to burn or drown their child after birth.  The child ends up dead both ways, the means is secondary.  I honestly don’t understand the reasoning behind most of this paragraph.  “if the primary intent is to end the pregnancy and the fetus’s death is a corollary to that”  Ummm, if the primary intent is to end the pregnancy…that is literally the same thing as killing the fetus, not a corollary.  By definition.  Did you miss-type this?  

Unless you mean re: the gun analogy.  Okay then if so.  No, I do not think refusing a blood/marrow transfusion is the same as actively killing another life.  Is there a fine distinction?  Absolutely. Lack of action vs deliberate action. Ethics is hard, like life. There are grey areas.  Do I believe a person, capable of providing blood or marrow to help another person, should do so if they can?  Absolutely.  I’m listed as an organ donor, was a blood donor for years, and was recently tested to see if I could donate a kidney.  Do I feel the state has the right to force that?  No.  That is not the same as, “I don’t want the discomfort and difficulty this other life might bring me, because of actions I took, therefore I will make a conscious decision to end its life rather than deal with the known, understood consequences.”

 “No, the people who use desperate and injurious means to try and end their pregnancies are distraught because people like you denied them a safe and dignified abortion.”

 “A safe and dignified abortion.”  Wow.  Just...wow.  When you reach for the moon, you really go for it!  And no. You don’t get to pawn other people’s bad decisions, born of a whole spectrum of backstories and circumstances, onto the pro-life crowd.  That’s intellectually dishonest and you know it.  Their reasons are legion.  And I sincerely doubt any of those underlying issues would be solved by abortion. Please, can your brush get any broader before you need a crane to lift it?

 “Nope, some of us just don’t want to have a baby, because some people with uteruses don’t! Get that through your head lol.”

Then…simple solution…  Don’t take action that can result in the creation of another life.  Get that through your head lol.

“Also, self-defense doesn’t require the fetus be at blame in order to be justified… Their lack of intent does nothing to lessen the actual harm of pregnancy, however, because intent does not equal impact.”

I see.  So it gets to die because you were…scared/etc?  It’s not to blame, but you don’t like the consequences, so yup, it has to die. Yes.  That sounds so much better.  “intent does not equal impact.”  When your intent ends with another life’s ending, that’s a very real impact and a very real harm.  But that’s okay here because...you want it to be?  Who needs the self-defense argument more, I wonder?  The mother or the child?  Seems like the only rule here is the argument from power.  Where the person with power gets to determine what is right.  That’s a scary hill to take your stand on.

“Also your coward’s way to wriggle out of the politically inexpedient specter of forcibly hospitalizing and jailing abortion clients is to infantilize and condescend to women instead of demonizing us. Lmaooooo because that’s so much humanizing. Not.”

 Coming from someone whose position is to, in essence, demonize and dehumanize unborn children in order to justify killing them for the sake of your own convenience like every genocidal advocate ever, this rings a little hollow. Especially with the body count you’ve racked up so far.  Nice straw man though.

 And wow, one cherry-picked account of a terrible miscarriage of justice and a CA law to crack down on centers providing help and alternatives to abortion (though I do concede that using misleading, and deliberate lies to ‘fight the good fight’ is wrong, and any center that does it—“half” according to that article--should stop immediately.)  Wow, you got me there! /end sarcasm  

Yes, we’re people too, who also make mistakes, and we form a huge spectrum of views of what is acceptable and what is not in this cause, just like your side does.  If I cared to enter the mines, you know very well I could come up with plenty of counter cherry-picked examples from your camp. Women being lied to about their pregnant state, their options, the nature of their pregnancy and the very real medical risks of abortion, deliberately pushing abortions for monetary gain, husbands/boyfriends/parents forcing them to have abortions, and so on. Do I need to do so, or do you have the intellectual honestly to admit those happen too?  

Sexism? Oh please. At least be original with your slogans.

But if you want to compare notes, only one of our sides is responsible for supporting and enabling 45.7 million dead babies between 1970 and 2015 in the US alone.  The body count is clearly in your favor.  And I know you can’t possibly be so naïve as to think diapers or those crisis centers are all the pro-life movement do.  Or do I really need to link to the lists of many many many other programs and help made possible by our side?  And what do you put your money to anyways?  Oh yeah, pink pussy hats and placards.  One side promotes and encourages life, one side promotes murder and death and spreads known lies about the “millions of babies killed in back-alley abortions!” (see https://www.hli.org/resources/doesnt-legal-abortion-save-women-filthy-back-alley-abortion-mills/  )   See!  I can use hyperbole and innuendo too! :D