#besides Silas of course...

[book-of-legends]

Lief: "Can we talk more about these 'Universe Gates'? Sounds a bit like what I keep hearing about the fourth wall."

Wait, the what? How do you know about that-??

"I think I made those back when we were still going through the deity war," They said but seemed unsure. "I could be wrong though! That was like a bazillion years ago. I'm still pretty mad I was regenerating the whole time! I missed the funny little mortals fighting each other with their magic, that would have been so fun to watch!" The Hoopa suddenly crossed their arms in annoyance. "I still think it was pretty stupid Xerneas and Yveltal stopped the whole thing! I wanted to see some bloodshed!!" They gave an ominous grin, Sirius however was staring at them with disgust, "What in God's name is wrong with you." Journey just gave a shrug, "I dunno! Ask Arceus, They made me." "Hmmm..."

Sirius looked surprised at first, but his expression quickly shifted into a glare upon realizing he was being insulted.

"You know being a U-Gate Engineer isn't easy, Journey."

The Meowstic glared at them, they were starting to become fed up with the Hoopa's childishness. "Seriously? You're bored? Good gods, I should be teaching young and eager college students right now, Journey! Not babysitting you, an incompetent, indolent and frankly stubborn Demi-god." "But, No. Because of that and having to sit here and babysit you constantly, I must continue to be the only technician qualified enough to do work on U-gates!" He sighed, before pointing at them. "You should be very grateful I keep on top of our jobs work queue. You stupidly created thousands of these gates and didn't even think of the consequences and upkeep required to keep them--" The Hoopa cut off his rant. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."

"Oh. Okay, first name calling and now you're gaslighting me again?" He put up a paw in dismissal, Sirius looked a bit hurt by their words. "And about something I told you in complete sincerity? Really mature Journey. Stop it, I'm not stupid enough to fall for your tricks anymore. That, there, is why we have a 'No Talking' rule on repair jobs now." "Calling me a nerd is very demeaning of my efforts and I do not appreciate it." Sirius was staring daggers at the Hoopa, they however seemed disinterested in what he had to say. "Same old, same old. You're still a nerd, just with a fancy title."

Sirius turned his attention back to the Simbobeon, his irritation with the Hoopa was quick to melt away.

"It's my field of work and I take great pride in my knowledge of it. I have made many contributions to the greater knowledge and study of U-gates." He gave a cheerful smile. "I've even written various papers on them, held conferences and much more… In other words, I am considered the specialist on them. So, do your worst, If I don't know the answer I'm happy to investigate and get back to you with one."

→ Sirius happily invites any questions Lief or others may have regarding the Universe Gates, seems he'll do his best to answer anything asked about them! → Universe Gate questions will be prioritized and likely will be answered primarily in text format. Other asked questions will continue normally on the side.

[sheepispink]

Comforting Warmth

supersoldier!reader x ghost/tf141 (part 7)

cw: mentions of experimentation on kids, nothing explicit though

honourable mentions: ty to @kittygonap & @pythonmoth for some animal ideas. ty to @kittygonap and @silas-aeiou for scents, and @pythonmoth again for a lovely plot idea i wont spoil 😉

A/n: yes i did write 5.9k words in a day, yall deserve it eat up

PREV NEXT Series Masterlist

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After scarfing down twice your normal breakfast this morning, Soap and Gaz had come by and nudged you out of bed, handing you an outfit for the day. You’ve never dressed up as a civilian before, having never done an undercover mission, so you’re quite glad they picked it out for you. After all, if it was up to you then it’d be the plain old uniform again. It’s a simple outfit, jeans and a hoodie, and you look into the mirror to find that it weirdly looks like it fits you perfectly. Out of necessity, you neaten up your hair, fixing up the strands that just didn't want to stick no matter what. You’d much rather be on the track than anywhere they had wanted to take you, but after two whole weeks of being stuck in bed, and two weeks before that forced to ‘recuperate’, you’d take absolutely any form of exercise than walking circles around your room.

So, there was understandably a very clear disdain written across your face when you were faced by a car, Gaz ushering you to get into the passenger seat.

“Seatbelt on?”

He asks when you’re settled, in the back since you were quite annoyed about this whole arrangement. His words didn’t amuse you like it once would’ve, instead now staring daggers through the back of his seat. Soap wanted to laugh, and he did at first; they all knew you were increasingly restless as the days carried on. But as you continued, he realised you were in fact quite serious about all of this, face not shifting from its blank look and voice so monotone it could be artificial.

“Yes, I'm not a child.” It’s still a flat statement like before, but this time it even packs a bit of a punch, your eyes naturally shifting away from them towards the window. “Are we going to leave now?” When Price told them you had shifted overnight, they had hoped that meant you were back to talking properly again, but they were not expecting a change this way. “Not so fast. Still waiting on someone.”

The car door across from you opens, cold air washing over you until the seat slightly dips from the weight beside you. “Got caught up with rookies again.” Your teeth grit involuntarily at the gruff voice beside you, not even having to turn to know who sat there. Ghost, of course, noticed immediately when you didn’t turn to look at him, deciding not to comment on it as he strapped himself in. This time he was going to make no mistakes, and as the one person who had read your files in and out practically every night to decipher what he could do better, what they could all improve on, he decided he has to go with you everywhere. It doesn't matter if he trusts the two sergeants with his life– you were his charge, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take that responsibility seriously this time around.

Gaz starts the car, light chatter passing between the three of them whilst you lean your head on the window, staring at the scenery that passes. You’ve only travelled like this a few times before, but never casually. To be honest, you’ve never actually headed to town before either, so this was definitely a day for a lot of firsts. The old you– or rather the real you.. Or the fake you?-- would’ve loved all of this, the spring breeze over your face and the feeling of people who don't look down on you surrounding you. But that’s all different now–you just want this all over and done with, for this pain to leave your system and to go back to normal. You’ll take absolutely anything over this.

“We’re here.” He parks, and you look around noticing that you seem to be in some kind of retail park. There’s not many options, but they do have a diy store and a home furniture one, as well as a few fast food restaurants scattered around. But you weren’t really allowed food as greasy as that—Not that you particularly wanted it anyway; you much prefer the high protein, high carbs diet Soap currently had you on, especially with all the flavourful sauces he seems to find. At first it was cool–discovering all of these things, until you realised just how out of touch you are with society. Who the hell hasn't tried barbecue sauce?

You follow behind the two sergeants besides Ghost, who will not let you walk behind on your own, until they lead you through the home furnishing store all the way to the bedding aisles. There’s long shelves of duvets in different sizes with sheets in a range of colours, feels, and even patterns. Truthfully, you weren't bothered by most things, but with your restlessness the bed sheets really have been getting at you. You never really got a good sleep even before all of this; the duvets were practically the exact same as the infirmary ones, scratchy and thin. And you didn't want anything that symbolizes the infirmary in any way.

So, as much as you didn't exactly want to comply with this, you take the opportunity to actually look at the options, feeling the thickness of each blanket and considering colours for the first time in your life. “This one.” You pull out a thirteen tog duvet, the soft and thick combination drawing you in immediately. Soap tosses it in the basket, and you look at him expectantly, like you’re ready to leave.

“Oh… no, no, yer getting a new everything. C’mon, no one has only one blanket anyway, let's get a throw too, hm?.”

You’re promptly dragged off to another aisle, leaving Ghost and Gaz behind looking at pillows. “They’re not actually.. Angry, right? At us?” Gaz asks, having noticed your closed off attitude and Ghost shakes his head. “Don’t think they’re even capable of that. Everything’s just a bit muddled for them right now–they’re at war with themself.” Gaz nods quietly, trying his best to understand what’s going on with you, but it just seems impossible— every information revealed is more inhumane than the last. He decides to carry on for now, praying that you’ll end up alright in the end.

When you’ve left the store, you have to stop by the car to drop off the heavy bags full of things Soap deemed ‘absolutely necessary for a good night's sleep’ or whatever. You were started to feel a little agitated again, one part of you hating that his words made a little part of you want to laugh, and another part of you angry that you hadn’t screamed and demanded they let you do what you want. Shaking your head, you try to keep those thoughts away and focus on following along as they walk back towards the arrangement of shops.

Though you’re caught off guard when Soap suddenly blurts out something that you did not want in the slightest.

“Price wants me and Gaz to get some super top secret uh…. Boring stuff, ye know? Nothin’ interesting.”

He mumbles, whilst Gaz jabs him in the side with his elbow, muttering something angrily in his ear. “Point is, we should split up. Ghost’s got the rest of the list, and y’know maybe if we get back early, we can..go for a run?” That snaps you into the current moment fast enough, and you’re already turning on your heel, leaving Ghost rolling his eyes at the blatant bribery before he catches up to you.

—-------------

You don’t look at Ghost once, still being indifferent towards him after everything that happened between you. You can't deny that you’re upset, angry even, that his own words had caused you to spiral to a state of no return, just from overhearing one sentence. At first, you were slightly ashamed that you had run solely off an assumption, but then as your mind cleared and you considered it further it was fairly clear that the way he pushed you to the brink of exhaustion solely to please the higher ups was nothing short of inhumane.

But then again, you’re not exactly human. Again, you shake that dangerous thought from your head as you follow Ghost into the.. toy store?

“Why are we here?”

He would have explained it before, but he wants you to ask questions—he needs to bring you out of your current state of indifference before you’re stuck there. He’s read the files; he knows about the past time this happened and he’s nervous that it’ll only grow worse until you’re apathetic too. “Price suggested you try keeping warm at night, a hot water bottle is usually a good way.” He hums, tone noticeably softer in terms of volume but still his eyes are cold as ever, trying to keep his focus and not sink into guilt in front of you. Thankfully, you don’t challenge his answer, intrigued by the thought of a hot water bottle; you’re so used to being just barely comfortable, what if it’s too hot?

Following behind, your eyes are caught onto the colourful displays across the store and the excited laughter of the little children tugging on their parent’s hands, dragging them to their current favourite interest. Your eyes don't leave them, watching a pair of twins get excited over matching figures, whilst their younger sibling is just happy whenever they're grinning. It reminds you of better times, with the other experiments children and all the stupid things you got up to with your wild imaginations. Sometimes you’d pretend that you were really spies, to be given cool gadgets and you’d pretend to ‘escape’ the small room you had been placed in between testing. Every thought was an active effort to not acknowledge the real pain you were all in, and only on one summer day had you all clumped together, needle pricks stinging as you lay beneath the warm sun, leaves slowly falling around. It was the first time you chose to nap instead of playing, but it wasn't the last.

“Reaper? Something wrong? Ghost’s voice immediately snaps you from your thoughts, making you realise you had come to a stop in the middle of the aisle, still staring at the place where the three children had once been. You turn back to him, eyes hazing over just slightly before you convince yourself to knock it out. “No, I just thought I heard something..”

“Right, over here. You gotta pick one out.” There’s not many kids around thankfully— not that your face would’ve shifted much anyway— but he had led you towards what seemed to be a stuffed animal ‘mini factory’, according to the sign. He gestures towards the unstuffed animals lay waiting, all different types with their beaded eyes and soft fur.

“I thought you said a hot water bottle.” You challenge him, looking at him with narrowed eyes as if questioning if he really thought of you to be this childish.

“They fill it with special beads that can be microwaved. Besides, it’s safer and much more comfortable than them.” You seem like you want to question further, and as much as he’d just like to force you to get one, you should be allowed to speak. Since he didn’t let you before.

“Can’t I just get a bottle shaped bag of beads then? What’s the need for the plushies?” He does his best not to sigh, he really does, but you’re making it difficult for him now. How is he going to explain that yes, they totally do see you as an adult, and no, they’re not trying to treat you like a child? You’re already bordering the edge of just turning away now, no he has to think fast— he feels like he’s the one being interrogated.

. “Don’t think it works like that. They do it on purpose to make more money— I mean, this is more appealing than just a plain grey bag.” He holds up one of the premade plushies, a penguin with floppy arms. “See, it’s cute.”

”Then why don't you get one?” Now you’re just trying to piss him off, aren't you?

Ghost lets out a long sigh, turning his back to you for a moment as he places it back down. This is the reason he got into this trouble in the first place. Sure he shouldn’t t have to agree with everything you say, but he can't dismiss you so easily like you were Soap just trying to rile him up. A part of you genuinely meant it, and it was also entirely possible that you didn't even mean to take a jab at him— after all, your state of mind was a total whack after the breakdown, you’re barely figuring out the pieces yourself.

“Could do. Don’t think they make a ghost one unfortunately and it probably wouldn't fit on the bed either.” Finally, you take his answer as satisfactory, shrugging it off as you move to look through the ones available. Though you still don't seem entirely keen on this at all, and he’s slightly worried you won't even bother falling asleep with it at all.

A worker soon comes over, all smiles like they usually are in kid’s shops like this but there’s a faint flicker of fear in her eyes when she looks between Ghost and you. He did contact the store beforehand, explaining the situation as vaguely as possible only to warn not to try any funny business with you at all. “Welcome to our mini factory! Anything you two are interested in?”

Your eyes snap up, a little too fast and you have to forcefully settle yourself to not seem intimidating to the new person. Thankfully the scratches on your face had cleared up, leaving the naive face behind that Ghost had once hated. You looked hesitant to speak though not quite shy, and you looked at Ghost’s way for once, having usually avoided his gaze. His chest ached with guilt though, knowing he had controlled you in such a way before in which you could barely speak for yourself, but he was wondering if this meant you still thought of him as your ward to some degree. Though, the way you looked at him was almost a test, asking if he’d continue with his old ways or not. Either way, the point is that you’re allowed to ask your questions now, and so he gives you a nod.

“Do you have any plain ones?” Damnit, maybe he shouldn't have given you freedom of speech just so quickly.

The worker pauses, not usually asked for things like that but eventually shakes her head as Ghost motions a no simply by the harsh look in his eyes. “Well, originally the company started out like that! But as more customers came they asked for different designs and options, so we decided on animals!” It makes sense to you, at least partially. You can't exactly question her words when you barely know anything about the outside world yourself. “So, any animal in particular you’d like?” Before you could respond, Ghost had walked off and returned with a fox shaped plush, black beaded eyes and pointy ears. It made something in your chest flare and definitely not in a good way. “No. I don't need another.” It’s monotone, blank, but it’s sharper than usual, and the way you turn away from him is enough to prove that it’s your final decision.

Seeing as you looked pretty content with talking quietly to the worker, he decided to leave you alone for a while, giving you space before he went ahead and ruined anything else. Besides, they’d been allocated so much budget for your care that this wouldn’t change a thing in the bank even if you bought ten. Soon enough you’re walking over to the machine with the lady, still looking a little conflicted as you hold two of the empty animals. A wolf, and an eagle. The former has a tuft of fur on its head, and a mischievous looking face, whilst the latter had long wings and a determined demeanour. That gives Ghost dèja vu for a moment.

He’s happy to see that you’re intrigued by the process, even going as far as to help the lady when she shows you how to stuff the animals, the large machine pushing the filling through a tube. “Wait.” You’re about to fill the eagle when Ghost cuts in, making you both stop to a halt. “These instead.” It’s the heavier type of beads, similar to the feeling of a weighted blanket. You had denied one in the store, but he wouldn't let you escape it now, not when they said they’d try everything to get you sleeping normally again. The worker doesn't complain, switching to the other machine, and you help again, filling the eagle up until it’s a comfortable weight in your hands.

“So.. Do you wanna add a heartbeat? Our customers love this add on!” It’s shaped like a heart, a small electronic covered by felt, and it pulses on your hands as you hold it, testing out the feel. To be honest, it makes you feel rather uneasy, and almost strange but Ghost speaks for you this time. “We’ll have one with the heartbeat.”

“What?”

He looks down at you, noticing your questioning of his sudden decision. “It’s all or nothing, you heard the Captain.”

So reluctantly, the wolf gets stuffed with the heart beat, and then the worker turns to you again. “Alright, and any scents too? We have some here and oh— we have a new batch in the back, i’ll grab them!” She hurries off through the warehouse, whilst silence hangs between the two of you. You pick up the scent testers available, curious, until you stop on lavender. Weirdly enough, you’ve never actually seen the flower before, only knowing the scent, and you’re not surprised it’s purple. It’s been years since you’ve smelt it properly, the lingering scent on the small fox plush having faded out to a mere thought now, especially since Gaz fixed it up. Will it smell just as comforting? Will it smell different?

You lift it to your nose, immediately hit with the powerful yet calm scent, exaggerated for the purpose of the stuffed toy. It’s so strong it feels like you’re back in that medical room, the young intern before you as you clutch the sheets desperately. His face is a blur, in fact most of his attire is, but you remember his words and the touch of his hand as he clutched your weaker one. It was near impossible to forget the great pain you had been in that day, having been pushed to your limits and left twitching, but somehow you had forgotten him.

Until now you had failed to remember that someone had been there for you first, and he had promised you a future of happiness. For a while you put your hope in him, letting him hold your hands, soothe you to rest and help you walk around your room again. The story isn't quite the same as when you last recalled it, stuck in that cabin with the threat lingering near. He hadn't been there the weeks before you had been sent off to Ghost, no, but you wished he had. For four whole years after his mysterious disappearance, you held that fox tight, begged and pleaded for him to come back to you, to soothe you again. But he never came, and even though the nurse had broken the news to you, you had refused to believe their words. Until they brainwashed it out of you, well most of the memories anyway, so you had forgotten practically everything, until now.

Until the scent returned.

It did not only bring back good memories though, because, with each visit from him, you had always been in some sort of pain prior. Experiments, rough handling, forced exercises to strain yourself, or even sliced into, crimson coating your skin. Instead of hurting, it overwhelms you, the sudden barrage of thoughts and experiences, all that made you the person you were today. You’ve lost so much of yourself over the years, and this probably is only a quarter of it, but still it feels so so good, and yet horrifying at the same time. Again, it’s the same feeling as before, like your body was in a battle with itself. Your head wanted to push it all down, beg for those memories to stay sealed by healed incisions and faded scars, but your heart yearned for otherwise. It needs to know, to feel and live through every emotion that’s been shoved down, and for a mere second it gets that freedom— pure joy swelling your heart until anger fills it, for everything the scientists have done to you, to the younger kids there, to all of your innocence. Soon it shifts to fear, one that’s already been creeping through, before it becomes jealousy, when you didn't understand why the other kids got to play freely whilst you went under anesthesia again, on that cold table for another day. Finally, it’s the sadness that’s lingered near every day since you became aware of your true purpose. Pure misery that lingers in the soul.

And then it’s gone, as fast as it came.

—-----------------------------------

Your eyes blink to a strange feeling, having been positive that you were just in that stupid ‘mini factory’ place, and not still in the car. Something rests beneath your head, like when you used the window as a temporary pillow, watching nature pass. But this isn't that now, and you haven't gone back in time, so you must’ve gone forward. Confused, you attempt to move, only to find you can’t, trapped in your own body like you’re.. paralysed. Fear spikes your heart, unable to even move your head until you hear a low noise, rumbling near your ear. It’s a pulse, a steady one that rises and falls with soft breaths..

“Reaper, you awake?” You’re not sure if you’re better off paralysed or not because that’s definitely not the voice you wanted to wake up too. What if all of that had been a dream..? Everything was still hazy, and you couldn't even make out the shape of the steering wheel or the music playing low from the radio; so what would happen if this really was all some stupid figment in your head again?

Something moves against you, fingers that were once resting against your back moving upwards to tap you gently. Brown eyes follow, leaning down to peer into your open ones, as if testing you somehow. “You blanked out when you had smelt that scent.” His voice is lower, quieter than usual in a somewhat crappy attempt to soothe you. Though you could at least tell that he knew what was wrong here–he was the last person you wanted to be leaning against after practically losing yourself again. “Went totally still too, had to muster up some excuse to the worker before getting those other idiots to take over..” Even though he wants to stay with the same dry tone as usual, he can't, involuntarily trailing off as he looks down at you again. “You wanna sit upright?”

You don't answer, because you can't, still stuck within your own body like an intruder. It scares you slightly, you know sometimes that your body thinks your organs aren't actually yours, and so it attacks them. And just now you’d been so conflicted with yourself… what if you had been kicked out of yourself? Was that even possible?

“Hey–you gotta speak to me.” He murmurs, but not nearly as stern as he’d be with anyone usually. Your eyes are darting around frantically, as if searching for something and he can't help but grow even more concerned at your ongoing silence. Even more worrying, you haven't moved once, not even a twitch. “Can you hear me?” He asks a little louder out, and you still don't reply but your eyes snap up to him immediately. Well that’s good

“Can you move? Look right for yes, other way for no.” He watches as you look left, his brows narrowing as he carefully adjusts his hands around you, one of them rubbing your shoulders slowly. “It’s a trauma response, I'm guessing something suddenly startled your brain when you blanked out,” Your eyes are still darting, occasionally looking up at him but at least you can move your eyelids to blink. He just needs to calm you. “Alright– do you want me to sit you upright?” He watches your pupil shift to the right, and his hands carefully lift you upwards, your head away from his side and leaves you resting back against the seat, tilted slightly towards the car door.

The first sign is the long gasp you let out, your eyes blinking longer until your head finally moves, looking around properly. Then you pull yourself straight, hands rubbing at your face as you push through the blurry haze and back to reality.

“Y’alright there Reaper? Heard what happened, doesnt sound too good.” The car door had opened, Soap’s mohawk brushing against the ceiling of the car as he climbed into the passenger seat, looking back at you in concern. He glances at Ghost, who gives him a look and then over to Gaz who’s climbing into the back, having just swapped seats with Ghost. However, they all freeze when you let out a small noise, almost like you’re choking on air itself.

“Deep breaths, okay? Look at me– look at me.” Ghost is already in the backseat again, his hands on your arms as he pulls them away from your chest, watching as you breathe frantically, eyes unfocused. “Can’t–”

“Yes you can.” He’s firm this time, almost commanding and you take in a long breath, before exhaling it just as deeply. Again, he instructs you, over and over until your hands are just trembling on your lap, held down by him before you attack yourself again, like you had done for months prior. They squirm against his large palms but he insists, keeping them far from you. “Look at me.” Finally, your eyes snap up to him, pupils frantic and darting around, but they find no solace in his empty face, unable to calm themselves in someone who looks like death themselves.

He curses loudly as your pulse screams against his hands, your eyes frozen on his, whilst Gaz sticks the key into the ignition, waiting for some family to pass by so he can pull out of the parking lot. Ghost is running out of options, especially as your hands are trying harder to break free, unable to fight off the urge to tear into yourself. He can tell you’re overwhelmed, the squint of your eyes showing that you’re trying to fight against yourself. So he does the next best thing possible to keep your eyes on him.

One hand leaves yours, allowing you to finally ease that urge, to attack relentlessly at yourself just to rid of the hatred caused by everything you’ve come to feel in the past hour. Your nails are perfectly blunt but they’ll work, you’ll make it work if it means your heart will stop trying to come out of your throat. You look up on instinct, fingers curled into your hair when you are suddenly still at the sight before you.

Blonde eyelashes, yes, but also the curve of a nose, the wrinkles of concern in a forehead and the parting of worried lips. Unmasked, emotions written in the hitch of his Adam's apple and cheeks paled, faded marks etched into them like a scripture lost to time. You pause to stare, the sight enough to let your hands drop down into his, and for your own face to relax. It’s the same expression you wore when you first met him, oddly curious and strangely naive.

He lets out a long sigh and doesn't wait another second to strap you in while you’re still distracted, promptly tugging you into his side along with one hand to cover your own just in case you get the slightest itch again. “Think it’s time we get home now.” The two sergeants are slightly shocked themselves, despite already seeing his face many times before. “Right… um, buckle up.” Gaz mumbles, finally pulling out and heading through the greenery back to base.

—------------------------------------------------

You had slumped against his side for the rest of that journey; whether you wanted it or not you’re not really sure,but you definitely needed it. The drive back had helped you clear your mind as well as the generally quiet atmosphere, apart from the occasional talking, and now you’d finally returned to your room. Soap had unloaded the first haul of things from the car, only letting you carry a few bedsheets, and brought it to your room. They had painted the walls the day prior, making it a lot brighter with a simple light blue, something you had chosen given how intrigued you were by the sea the first time you saw it. Plus, it didn't hurt your eyes to look at either.

“You sure yer alrigh’ on yer own?” He asks, genuine worry written on his face but you really needed some time to process all of this.

—

You pull off the last pillow case cover, discarding the worn material to the corner where the rest are piled up already. First of all, you couldnt remember half of the things that happened after you smelt that lavender card. It was weird, you remembered everything you felt during the moment, the raw intensity but absolutely nothing that followed after. Almost as if you were never meant to know at all.

And had Ghost really dragged you out of the shop? It seemed impossible that you could get that preoccupied, but seeing as how you are after extreme levels of stress in the evac vehicles, it makes sense the same thing could occur. Even you can't deny that everything has been way too overwhelming recently, from the seizure to the panic you went through earlier today, it felt like all your past problems were amplified.

As exhausted as you were from everything that happened, you couldn't help but feel strange knowing that for once in your life, you didn't suffer alone through that episode. It’s terrifying every single time, and it would’ve been much easier to deal with if Ghost had just commanded you to stop. But he had chosen the safer route for you, and the more difficult one for him. It felt wrong seeing his face like that, in a time of your own desperation, but it was his choice at the end of the day and a small part of you really hopes it was actually to help you.

Not just to shut you up.

Regardless, you may have not originally wanted to go on this trip but you came out of it feeling strangely lighter, the hole that normally eats at your chest feeling oddly satisfied today. Maybe it won't tomorrow, but for now you don't want to think too hard on the specifics. You can just accept it this time.

———-

Evening comes quickly, and he knows the sergeants had brought you to eat dinner in the mess hall. It was always good to see you up and around, but he had matters to discuss with Price considering the plan forward, potential involvement in missions. The higher ups were satiated by the golden results produced by you before your painful breakdown, but they’d start getting suspicious by the lack of results depending how long they left this. That’s not exactly a current issue though, and the conversation was more of a report for how you were doing today.

Ghost makes sure to stop by the common room before he checks on you tonight, the microwave whirring softly. You’ve still had steady nightmares all week, and also never go into detail about what they include nor do you go to them about it either. It frustrates him slightly, since he wants to know every occurence and understand the patterns and so, but he knows he can't push this. He doesn't have the right.

—

“Reaper? Fallen asleep yet?” You’re laying in bed, exhausted out of your mind from the day’s events and the episode earlier. Eyes drooped as usual but, just like other nights, you were in a half haze between awake and asleep. He’s not sure if it was something to do with being afraid of having more nightmares, or simply insomnia, but either way you wouldn’t ever give a proper answer.

“..No.” It’s less monotone this time, quiet and soft as you lay beneath your brand new duvet, head sunken into the soft pillows. This is heaven for you, if you’re being completely honest but something still keeps you up, mind whirring.

“That’s ‘cause you forgot these.” You’re staring at the bedsheets, not bothered with whatever method he wants to try today, when the two plushies are tucked in right beside you. A wolf with it’s stupid tufts of fur on it’s head and a.. scottish flag? Ghost stifles his chuckle at your sleepy confusion, pulling the blanket a little higher over you. “I left the sergeants to buy it after you conked out. Soap had a bit of fun with the accessories.”

Your fingers graze over the little flag playfully tied over the wolf’s shoulders like a cape, the soft material rubbing against your raw hands from the struggling. Then your gaze shifts to the eagle, which has a matching cap like Gaz’s, along with a makeshift dog tag hung around its neck. You like it, a lot actually, it’s soft and fuzzy, similar to how the fox plushie used to be. Unfortunately it’s practically all matted now.

Both of them are warm through and through, the beads inside providing a comforting heat that feels like a hug… similar to the one Price gave you before. What gets you the most is the scent though; the eagle has an orangey citrus but the tang is cut off with notes of pine It hits you straight away like the lavender but it’s calming this time, like switching your brain off. Although the wolf has a different one, like freshly cut grass, seasalt and wood. The combination makes your head swim, quelling the thoughts that had once contaminated it, and even the weight of the eagle’s heavy beads forces the breath you’ve been keeping in for too long out of you.

But just as you’re settling, Ghost reaches forward, gently pressing the chest of the wolf. A soft pulse vibrates against you, muffled yet so present.

He leans against the door as your eyes flicker shut, content by the stuffed animals tucked beside you. Your breaths even out quickly too, expression practically melting as you give into the exhaustion that’s eaten you up for a month and a half now.

It had been years ago, but he had once talked to a K9 handler, one who had the responsibility of temporarily looking after some vulnerable pups after they had been found on the field. “They miss their parents a lot.” The man had said, carrying the puppy in his arms as it wriggled and squirmed.

“But you know what trick always works? Something warm— a hot water bottle maybe. Stick an old timer beneath it and it imitates the mother. They knock out every time.”

The man had chuckled, and just as he said, the puppy had fallen asleep instantly, feeling safe and content where it lay.

———————————

NEXT Series Masterlist

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[pythonmoth]

cw: simon is a veteran. simon has a prosthetic leg. self-hatred. post-traumatic stress disorder. one talking snake. fluff. brief mentions of war. pretty sure that's it.

Simon Riley x f!reader

special shot-out to @aprilsfall for helping me choose Lorelei's name ♡ and @silas-aeiou bc a story from him inspired Lazarus' name lol

First | Last | Next

Never Gonna Be Alone

Simon's useless.

His goddamn leg is fucked. Therefore, he is useless.

He tripped over his own feet yesterday just about as he was going downstairs. If not for Riley, who jumped and kicked him out of the way, he would've fallen face first and broken his neck instead of the bloody prosthesis.

The fixing will just take a day, but he's feeling restless and utterly useless because he needs to move slower, carefully. The fact that he needs his crutches makes his chest heave painfully, his throat constricting with shame. After the incident with the bomb, having to use his crutches is just overly humiliating for Simon. It’s been a couple of years, and he’s healed, but the frustration will always be there. Not being able to move for months, losing his independence, being forced to rely on others, even sobbing in pain in front of his loved ones, those who always saw him in full confidence… it made him feel like he was losing face. Worth.

It all changed when he got Riley his prosthetic leg. Expensive as all hell, but it worked. It took him several weeks to get used to it, but Simon could see how happy he was to be moving properly again. And then, Simon got his. It was paid by the government as a thank you for getting blown up for us gift, so of course it wouldn’t be perfect. Rarely does it happen, but then he’s forced to use his crutches again, and he’s back to feeling useless and incomplete.

But he always bites back his anger and frustration and tries to work with them. Riley doesn’t deserve to feel all of that from him, because it’s not his fault. Never Riley’s fault. It was him who didn’t notice the bomb.

In any way, this is what he will be for twenty-four hours.

Distracting both of their minds, he feeds the brats at the pond, then makes his way upstairs to sulk all day. He can't possibly do much because his arms go numb if he stands for too long, so scrolling down his phone in his bed it is, then.

Besides, Simon hasn't seen you in days, so it’s not like you’re going to come today anyway. After you stayed over for a few hours the other day, nearly two weeks ago, you’ve been too busy to come over. He can hear your grunts of frustration, the harsh words in spanish —he's almost sure it's spanish anyway—, and the aggression in your movements when you take out the trash is enough for him to not bother you for now, but he's growing restless.

It’s like he’s a moody teenager all over again.

The silly pup isn't any better. Riley often waits by the door, sniffing and getting eager when he sees you coming out, Viper curled around your forearm, but you're always just too busy, getting in your car and coming back late at night, so he's spent a few days by the pond, sulking, whining, and kicking Simon's sides when they sleep at night, as if urging him to do something about it. Obviously, they both know it’s useless. You two are still not close enough for him to go bother you while you’re working, and if you haven’t come is because you can’t.

So, when Simon's upstairs, in bed so he can rest his arms from using the crutches, and hears a knock on the door, he wishes he could fucking sprint and jump the stairs down with a single leap. Riley beats him to it, naturally, but the soft disappointment tugging in their bond already has him discouraged before he even makes it to the door. He doesn't realize Riley's not less excited, however.

When Simon opens the door, a small butterfly flies past him, a little squeak coming from it, and lands on Riley's face, little wings flapping like crazy. The daemon growls lowly and sits on the floor, eyes crossing as he stares at the butterfly, their bond tight with affection.

Not even a moment later, two tiny arms wrap around Simon's leg, and two strong arms wrap around his shoulders.

"L.T!"

"Alright, alright. Hi, Johnny" Simon grunts, patting his back, but his attention is quickly drawn to the little girl hugging his leg. "Hello, sweetheart. You doing good, Rosie?"

Rosie looks up from where she's hugging Simon's leg, smile bright and tiny teeth. “L.T!”

A whole lot of emotions burn in his chest at the squeaky voice, a smile blooming in his face instantly. “That’s me. Tea with me, lovie?”

She nods eagerly before letting go of Simon and running over to Riley, waving at him. The little butterfly, Lorelei, flaps in little circles over Rosie’s head, landing on Riley’s side as she changes form from a butterfly to a pup, to a kitten, to a firefly, and then nuzzles into Rosie’s neck as a small sugar glider. Instantly, they’re telling Riley all about their new toys. A warm, soothing sensation makes their bond throb. Pure pleasure to see them. Love and nostalgia.

The sergeant grins up at Simon, patting his back and his shoulders. "Want me to carry you, mate? Back to the couch? Your bed, perhaps?" he offers, looking very serious about it, even if he holds a smirk in his lips.

"Maybe later" Simon huffs, his heart warming. He looks at Johnny's daemon on his shoulder, who's staring at him with sheer joy. "Zaru. It’s nice to see you again".

"My pleasure as always, Simon". Lazarus, a beautiful hooded crow, stares at him with so much intensity that, if Simon didn't know better, he would think they're both in love with his face. Sometimes, he isn't entirely sure Johnny's jesting when he offers to play house with him.

Even if he didn't know the sergeant was coming over, he doesn't mind it at all. He makes tea for them, and when Johnny shows him the big meal the missus prepared for them, he's in heaven again. And they make his day worth it. He forgets it all about the crutches when Johnny doesn't let him stand up to be a host, and he doesn't feel useless, either. He gets to be lazy and sit to entertain Rosie and all of their daemons while Johnny sets the table, the strong scent of spice making his mouth water in anticipation.

Back when Simon was still active, all of the team’s daemons would be all over Riley when they had time off. They both could pretend to be annoyed all they wanted, but Riley’s tail betrayed them. Besides, back when he had his voice, his tone would absolutely ruin any attempt to pretend to be upset, almost shy to accept their attention, the affection. Now, though, he can feel the love filling their bond with no shame at all.

A while later, Rosie's on Simon's lap, getting sauce all over his t-shirt. Riley, who's on the floor next to Johnny, has Lorelei and Lazarus walking all over his fur contently, carefully accepting little bits of food from the sergeant's fingers. Except Lazarus, who purposely pecks on Johnny's fingers. But Lorelei, who’s devouring a big peach, her opossum form all messy now, doesn’t really pay them any mind.

With Johnny’s booming laughter echoing in the kitchen, there’s a knock on the door. Riley’s instantly up, accidentally throwing Lazarus off of him, and Simon’s moving before he can even think about it. Leaving one of the crutches behind in his haste, he holds Rosie close to his chest, not minding how sticky he probably looks. Behind the curtains, he can see the outline of your shoulders, of your hoodie, and the little head peeking right over your shoulder.

When the door springs open, revealing your face, Viper fucking flies. All he sees is her jumping Riley, curling around him and whining about how much she missed him. Simon can feel their bond going absolutely fucking insane. You both turn to face them, Riley’s low howls and Viper’s ranting so distracting that neither of you realize Johnny and Lazarus have gone quiet, staring in amusement. Finally, you turn to Simon, smile widening.

“Simon. Hi” you mumble, warmth clear in your expression. You look like shit. Deep, dark circles under your eyes, cheeks sunken and incredibly tired. And it’s the best thing he’s seen in these past few days.

For a long moment, Simon breathes you in in silence. Viper’s dark colors mix with Riley’s white fluff perfectly, and their whining is loud enough that it makes his ears throb painfully, but he doesn’t care. He hasn’t seen you in days, and you’re finally here. There’s no way he’s going to let you leave so soon, Johnny be damned. It’s not like Simon’s afraid you two won’t get along, but he… Frankly, he just wants you for himself. At least today.

“Hi. Hi, come in” he rushes, hand tightening on the crutch. Rosie tugs on his hair, getting his attention, sulking just a little bit. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Rosie. I have a friend over, and he brought his daughter”.

“Hey, luv!” you smile at her, eyes softening. You turn to him, and he notices how the warmth stays. “Is it a bad time? We can come later if you’re busy”.

“No!” Viper yelps from where she’s wrapped around Riley’s neck, her little head resting on top of his. “No, I want to stay”. Riley is shaking his head, tail completely still, as if prepared to bite hands if anybody attempted to take Viper away from him. He doubts Riley would ever hurt you, maybe would just whine and melt on the floor.

“It’s quite alright.” Lazarus’ voice comes from the kitchen, interrupting their silly protesting. You both turn to see him perched on Johnny’s shoulder, both of them looking amused. “We have enough food for everyone”.

Turns out he was right. Riley’s the happiest with Lazarus pecking on his muzzle to clean up any mess from before, Lorelei playing with his tail, and now Viper talking his ear off. The pup looks like he’s in heaven, growling contently, tail swatting against the floor like crazy and entertaining the little kitten. Viper and Lazarus have good chemistry too, but they’re both too focused on trying to get Riley’s attention to care much about each other.

Meanwhile, Simon’s a third wheel. Johnny’s got you holding your tummy, telling you all about him. Embarrassing stories about how Ghost would scare the recruits and then trip just as they turned around? Check. The time he made that awful joke about a dog that had Riley so offended he would huff all day, refusing to talk to him? Check. It made Riley turn to them for a moment, rolling his eyes, but Johnny didn’t stop there.

Stories of him flirting with Price whenever they made a little mistake so that the Captain would hesitate to snap at them, of the time he accidentally swatted someone’s daemon with his gloves and got the scolding of his life.

“And one time he met this pretty recruit, and Riley wouldn’t shut up—”

Zoning out, he looks at you. He doesn’t know if you came for something specific or if you have plans after this, but Simon’s house is filled with your laughter and Viper’s yapping, and it’s been days, but now you’re meeting someone very important for him, so he doesn’t bother asking. For you to get along with Johnny, to have Rosie in your arms as she plays with your hair… It’s just perfect. As he eyes the way Lazarus is so gentle with Viper as she rests around Riley, Lorelei biting on his tail, he starts plotting.

In his mind, Simon’s already seeing the future.

There’s nothing to hide, and you aren’t secretive about it. He doesn’t care if this is technically the third time he sees you.

And with the way you meet his gaze, the pending conversation in them, he knows it’s not one-sided.

daemons change their form when they're young until they sort of choose their form. lorelei isn’t defined bc rosie is still v young (and not traumatized) so she keeps changing. might be a bit confusing if you aren’t familiar w it, sorry!

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

NGBA taglist: @kittygonap @rayrayyio @lostintransist @kalieros @catsfatjoint @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni it's been like two months im so sorry ♡

[kayhi808]

Was Abby excited for her Papa’s Bertday?… 🥰

A puff of morning breath is what wakes Bucky up this lovely morning, "Papa? Is you wakes?" Abby waits a couple seconds but in a loud whisper, "Is you done sleeps? I'm done sleeps." She lays her head down beside him on his pillow.

He peeks open one eye to see Abby's big eyes staring at him, "Abby??"

A big smile spreads across her face, "You wakes! Yay!" She climbs up on the bed with Pu'a her pig, sticking it in Bucky's face, "Happy Bertday, Papa!"

"Awww...thanks, Abigail." Trying to avoid the stuffed pig, he picks her up and rolls her across him so she's beside him as little spoon. "This is a good morning, thank you." Bucky notices you aren't in bed. "Where's your Mama?"

"She making 'prise breakfast for you."

"Oh yeah? What's she making?"

Not caring one bit that she's ruined your surprise, " Um...egg pockets."

"Egg pockets?"

Sitting up, "You never had egg pockets?? It so yums! Mama cook eggs flat," slapping her hands together, "den she puts in all the things inside." She mimics sprinkling. "an den she folds and closes the pocket."

"You mean an omelet?"

"I says EGG POCKET," frowning at him. Listen. Stop correcting me. Bucky laughs and scoops her closer. "Papa, you knows what?"

"Nope, what?"

"Ims 4," holding up 4 fingers. "How old is you?"

"108."

"What?!" Rolling over to face him, staring at her fingers, "How many fingers is dat? Shows me."

"Abby Baby, it'll take up too many finger AND toes."

"Like all of mines?" She wiggles her hands and toes in the air.

"I'd need mine, yours, Mama's, Uncle Steve's, Natasha & Sam's fingers."

Looking at him incredulously, "You yie! Nobody dat olds."

"Uncle Steve is 107; one year younger than me."

Grabbing his face between her palms, "You's a very old mans." She gives him a pitying look, "Does Mama know you so old?"

Bucky frowns at Abby & rolls out of bed on his way to find you. Abby jumps off the bed & chases after Bucky. When she catches up to him, she holds his arm with one hand and placed the other at the small of his back. "I helps you. Mama!!"

You look up after plating your breakfast. You were going to surprise Bucky with breakfast in bed, but here he comes with the grumpiest frown on his face. Not the look you were hoping for to celebrate his birthday. Abigail, leading him like he's injured. "What happened?"

"Mama, Papa is wike, super olds. He needs me to help him." She pats his arm, "I gots you, okays? I'ms here, Papa. It ok."

You cover your mouth to hide your laughter. "How old is he?"

That earns you a glare from Bucky. Abby tries to ease him down at the dining table & then starts wiggling her fingers & kicking her feet crazily, "Wike, dis many."

"Wow! No kidding."

"You never knows? He didn't tells you?'

Bringing Bucky's egg pockets to the table, "I knew, but I love him anyways." You press a kiss to his temple. "Don't you still love him?"

"Of course! He's my Papa Bear!" She smiles up adoringly at Bucky & he can't help but smile back. "I loves you big much!" Abby climbs into her chair, "I hope you loves me big much too, cos I mades a special bertday present for you. Uncle Steve helps me even. It 'prise. I can't tell you 'til tonight. I really hopes you like it."

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[lovequartz]

under wisteria blossoms

⊱ pairing: town doctor!wonwoo x reader

⊱ genre: small town, acquaintances to lovers, fluff & angst

⊱ warnings: historical inaccuracy, self-image and self-esteem issues, period-typical views (marriage/women)

⊱ word count: 7900+

⊱ tonight, i’ll send the glow of a firefly to somewhere near your window

⊱ notes: happy and somewhat relived to be able to share this, i think like aoybb this is something that i worked really hard on and tried my best with <3

The boy's skin feels warm and clammy underneath Wonwoo’s fingers. He’s glad the family called him when they did, thankfully the young boy’s condition had been better than he’d anticipated. He hangs his stethoscope back into its place over his shoulders and turns to the boy’s grandfather. 

“It’s a mild fever, he should be feeling better with a few doses of herbal tea and lots of rest,” Wonwoo pauses to pull the young boy’s shirt down and the sheet covering him, back up, “please don’t hesitate to call me if anything changes.” 

Your father walks the doctor to the door and bids him farewell with a firm handshake as well as a pat on the shoulder. As soon as the door shuts you move to change the washcloth resting on your nephew’s head.

“You could’ve greeted him properly rather than peek at him from the hallway,” your father teases. 

You shake your head as your hands busy themselves with wringing the washcloth. “He was so handsome,” you sigh, “I almost broke into a rash just staring at him.” You place the now cool fabric back into place across your nephew’s forehead, and press your moist hands against your cheeks in a futile effort to bring a chill to your warm face. Perhaps you’re the one with the fever now.

Your paths do not cross with the young and handsome doctor until sometime a week or two later. Your parents had insisted you bring him a small basket of persimmons on your morning delivery to thank him for Silas’s care, and your sister, Silas’s mother, had insisted that you bring your nephew with you.

So there you were, the pair of you, walking towards the town center to find Jeon Wonwoo’s office of practice. 

Silas squeezes your hand to get your attention and you glance toward him to let him know you’re listening. 

“Auntie,” he starts, “do you think I should become a doctor when I grow up?” 

You almost giggle but hold it in lest he thinks you’re laughing at him. His mother would probably run the streets in excitement if she’d just heard her son’s query. 

“Now why do I have a say in what you should be when you grow up? You can be whatever you want, I always tell you that.” 

His lips form a small pout before he replies; “You’re my best friend, of course you have a say.”

Tears try to fill your eyes before you will them away with a shake of your head. “Well as your best friend I say that you should be whatever makes you happy.” You tell him and lean down to quickly press a kiss to his cheek. “Now let’s hurry to Mister Jeon’s office so he can get his persimmons and you can go to afternoon classes.” 

The doctor’s office isn’t too hard to find, mostly due to the fact that there’s only one of them, and it’s fairly new to town.

As you and your nephew make your way to the entrance you notice the wisteria plants that span the awning. ‘They'll look lovely when they bloom in spring,’ you muse. 

The bell above the door chimes as the two of you enter and the young man sitting behind what you assume to be the reception desk nods in greeting. 

“Do you have an appointment?” He asks once you are closer to the desk. 

“Actually, I’m here with a delivery," you say, shyly holding up the basket, "and payment for Dr. Jeon's house visit." 

"Of course," he stands to receive the basket from you and sets it on the floor beside his chair. You watch him smooth down his dress shirt as he returns to his seat. The man then pulls open a drawer at his side and retrieves a medium sized journal, setting it in front of him and wetting his index finger to flip through its pages. 

"May I know the date the visit took place? As well as the patient's last name and address?"

You provide him with the information and watch as he skims through the cursive written on the journal's pages. 

As you converse with the man about payment you can't help but be thankful about how well behaved Silas is as you do. Although it might have been due to his fascination with the fish in a tank that sat in the waiting area, tucked next to some chairs and a table with a few newspapers, you're no less grateful. 

The two of you leave the office shortly after, your nephew a bit disappointed in not seeing Dr. Jeon, the man who has become the current subject of his admiration. 

"I'm sure we'll see him sometime soon," you say, trying to lift the boy's spirits, "it's a small town after all. Now, run along to class. Your mother will have my head if you're late again." 

Silas bids you farewell with a hug and you watch him jog down the road towards the schoolhouse, his bag swinging behind him. Unbeknownst to you that the doctor you'd been speaking about was watching it all from not too far away. 

Wonwoo is just shy of exhausted as he enters his practice. Removing his hat and tweed coat, holding onto them to hang them up in his office. 

Seungkwan stands from his chair to greet him but before he can utter a word Wonwoo lets out an almost comical sigh. 

"Please tell me I'm done with house visits for the day, I don't think I can handle another matriarch trying to convince me to marry their daughter." 

"You'll be happy to note that all the patients left today are mostly general check-ups." Seungkwan replies with a look of amusement. "Oh and before I forget the daughter of the persimmon farm came by with a basket for you and also took care of their bill for the visit two weeks ago," he continues. 

"I thought I caught a glimpse of her outside. Thank you, Seungkwan, I'll be in my office if you need me." 

Wonwoo closes his office door behind him as he enters, hanging up his hat and jacket on the coat rack to his immediate left. The basket of persimmons sits in the middle of his desk, covered with a cloth that had to have been hand-sewn. It's cream colored with a bouquet of embroidered flowers in the corner, beautiful work. It's a shame he can't enjoy the sweet fruit that lies beneath, work comes first. 

The bookstore's wood stairs creak as you ascend and in turn the bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter. Delight flashes across your face as you lock eyes with the girl who sits behind the counter. She returns your joy earnestly with a small smile and a wave of her hand. 

"You seem to be awfully chipper this afternoon." Jisun notes as you lean against the counter. 

"Maybe because I have it all to myself," You reply, with a smile. 

"I thought you had deliveries to do today?" She asks, confused. 

"Well, I did have one delivery today, to Dr. Jeon's office. My father said if I made that delivery and sent Silas off to classes I could take the afternoon off. I might have to do some this evening though."

At the mention of the doctor's name your friend gives you a coy look, which you ignore. 

Jisun and you fall into easy conversation between the calm buzz of the bookstore and her helping whatever customer needs it. You move to sit beside her behind the counter, to free up space. She tells you all about the planning being done by her mother for her upcoming wedding. Her engagement to the eldest son of the town's pottering family, Kim Doyoung, happened sometime this past winter. Jisun was over the moon when he had asked for her hand; you remember her crush on him from your school days. He was set to take over the family business in two to three years due to his father's declining health. 

"I'm thinking late summer or next autumn, because of the weather. My mother wants it to happen as early as possible, but Doyoung and I are okay with waiting a bit longer. His mother is fine with whatever I decide, she's truly wonderful." 

"I'm sure everything will work out. I just can't wait to atten– your response is cut off by the bell above the door chiming to announce a customer, your and Jisun's eyes snapping to the door. 

To your utter horror, Jeon Wonwoo enters the bookstore. 

You duck behind the counter quickly, praying he hasn't seen you yet and clutching your headscarf so it obscures your face better. 

Jisun gives you a confused look but you wordlessly plead for her to act normal, breathing a sigh of relief when she turns to greet the doctor. 

"Welcome, Dr. Jeon! I wasn't expecting you today."

You're glad Jisun is a better actress than she seems. 

Wonwoo returns her greeting and asks about the store. To which Jisun replies; "It's been fine, not too busy and not too slow." 

"How's Doyoung's father? I understand he's been taking his medicine diligently, but I haven't got around to seeing him yet as I was in the office all afternoon." 

She offers the doctor a smile, "He's doing much better, thankfully. We're all really grateful to you, Dr. Jeon." 

"Please, call me Wonwoo, I prefer to be 'Dr. Jeon' during work hours." 

Jisun smiles, "Of course."

Your squatting position soon becomes uncomfortable but you'd rather die than show yourself now, so you continue to listen to the two converse. 

"And the wedding? I know you've been planning." 

"Well, nothing is set in stone yet, but Doyoung and I are thinking perhaps late summer or even early autumn. Fret not, you and Seungkwan absolutely have a place on the guest list." 

"Looking forward to it then. Sorry to take up so much time with small talk, your father has a medical textbook saved for me. I told him I would be by this morning but I was a bit too busy." 

"I see, it's likely in his study then. I'll be just a minute!" She replies before turning around to the back of the bookstore, shooting you a wary glance before she disappears. 

You hear Wonwoo hum quietly to himself as he waits, and you silently pray for Jisun to make haste. Your legs are burning, not only from the weight of your body but also mostly due to the weight of your deceit. No matter, you cannot possibly let Jeon Wonwoo see you. 

"Here it is!" Jisun announces cheerfully as she returns, holding up the thick book with two hands and a sense of pride. 

"Thank you, Jisun. How much do I owe?" 

Jisun calculates the total along with a hefty discount sparing no room for argument, before wrapping the book up and handing it to the doctor. 

"You take care now Wonwoo! I'm sure I'll see you soon." Jisun says as she bids him farewell. 

You breathe a sigh of relief at the bell chiming, and the sound of the door closing. Grabbing onto the counter you hoist yourself back to standing much to the torment of your legs. 

"What was that about?" Jisun asks with a confused look as you wince and massage your knees. 

You open your mouth to respond but Jisun continues; "Don't you dare say 'nothing'." 

"I don't want him to see me." You admit, looking at your feet. 

"Why not?" She seems incredulous at your confession, "Is it because of your scar?" 

Your hand instinctively reaches to touch the long scar that runs through your left eye and down your cheek. The scar that "marred" you, the one that made people look twice, the only thing that prevents you from finding love. 

You sigh before giving Jisun a hollow smile, "I have to fetch Silas soon. I'll tell you more later." 

And with that you wave to Jisun and make your exit. 

The reminder of your scar brings awful memories back to the surface of your mind, and they are all you can think about as you walk to the schoolhouse.

Early Summer (Two Years Prior)

"Darling, is your sister ready? The Baes will be here any moment!" 

Your sister hurriedly pulls the curlers from your hair, and runs a brush through them. "Give us forty seconds Mama!" She looks you over in the mirror before giving you a reassuring smile, rushing to pick up the discarded curlers. 

"You look beautiful! Now go see Mama, quickly!" 

You meet your mother in the kitchen and she gives you a once over before kissing your cheek. "My lovely girl." 

Your mother instructs you on when to join them at the table after the Baes arrive and to bring the persimmons she's already cut with you. Figuring you still have time, you move to your sister's room where your nephew is playing. 

"Hi Silas." You say softly as you find a seat next to the boy. 

"Hi Auntie, what happened to your special meeting?" He asks with a tilt of his head. 

"The special people aren't here yet so I came to say hi one more time." You reply, pushing his hair out of his face, it was getting so long. 

You and your nephew chat for a bit more until the commotion from the front of the house draws away your attention; the Baes have arrived. 

The Baes were a modest family, a mom, a dad and two children, one boy and one girl. They owned the town jewelers, and were surprisingly well known. Bae Giwoong, the head of the family, was skilled with his hands, creating beautiful pieces that complimented anyone. Paired with a wife that had vast knowledge on jewels and precious stones, they had done quite well for themselves.

Hyunsik, the son, had come in earnest with his family to potentially ask for your hand. You were quite nervous, but seeing as your sister had married almost four years prior and had Silas, it was only natural that you were thinking about marriage as well. 

The meeting was dragging on. You had presented the persimmons just as your mother had instructed, before taking your seat at her side, across from Hyunsik who you offered a polite but reserved smile. He did not return it, only glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the conversation between your father and his. 

Soon, the chatter dwindled and the Baes announced their leave. Your father convinced Mr. Bae to have a cigar with him just outside the house before they departed. You busied yourself with clearing the table of the used forks and now empty cups of tea your mother had prepared.

After your tidying, you swiftly move through the house to the window at the front of it, intent on eavesdropping. 

Peering out you see the son and father chatting amongst themselves, your father probably in his study to fetch the cigar he promised Mr. Bae. Leaning closer to the ledge you're able to hear the two as they converse. 

"They're a good family, what do you think of her?" Mr. Bae asks. 

"They seem to be," Hyunsik agrees, "She's adequate, I suppose. If only she didn't have that unsightly scar," he continues. 

Your heart drops into your stomach at his words, as your hand unconsciously reaches to the scar. 

His father mulls over his words with a hum before replying; "You'd have to keep her under lock and key, the poor girl's mangled." 

The dread in your stomach hardens and you want nothing more than to stop hearing these harsh words, but you are frozen in place. 

Hyunsik nods in agreement, "It's really a shame. I'd be able to overlook it if it were anywhere else, I just can't imagine waking up to that face every morning."

You feel the tears before you register that you're crying, and the sensation is enough to knock you back to consciousness. You stand hurriedly and make your way to your room before anyone can see you in this pathetic state. 

 You pretend. In the day you are just yourself, getting errands done and living day to day. You pretend to agree, when your mother tells you that Bae Hyunsik would not be asking for your hand due to the fact that he believes you two wouldn't be compatible. At night you are inconsolable, crying into your pillow until your tears eventually put you to sleep. 

Silas senses a shift in your mood, but as a three year old he only does what he can. Seeking attention whenever you're sitting idle, laying his head on your lap while you stroke his hair. His little hands playing with your free one. 

Eventually, you learn to move on. As does Hyunsik when he marries the eldest daughter of Lee's dairy farm. 

His words, however, will stay with you forever. 

Drawn out of your memories by the clanging of the schoolhouse bell you quicken your pace, keeping eyes out for your nephew. He appears within a few moments, his own eyes searching for you. You wave to him when he finally finds you. 

"How were classes?" You ask as the boy bounds up to you, reaching to smooth his unruly hair. 

"Good!” He chirps, before launching into detail about his afternoon. Keeping the two of you entertained as you follow the road home. 

The days that follow glide by until eventually they all bleed into a week, a week since you’ve seen the young doctor. Your deliveries go as well as can be expected, though they have been slowing down, and your father is busy preparing the year’s saplings. Silas has gone off to visit his paternal grandparents who live a few towns away, your sister going along despite her relationship of apathy with her in-laws. She did say something about Henry’s younger brother finishing his woodworking apprenticeship so she was expected to be present. 

You find yourself bored without your small friend but find time to chat with Jisun every now and again. Miraculously you haven’t run into Wonwoo at all, though you’ve caught glimpses from afar and he has not gotten any less handsome. 

At dusk your mother finds you with a basket in her hands. 

"Did I forget a delivery?" You question eyes falling to the vermillion fruit. 

"No dear, your father is out with the trees still and it slipped my mind that I had promised Mrs. Lee these. You know her youngest just got engaged," She explains. 

"Ah right I had forgotten. I'll take care of it," you reply, taking the basket from your mother's hands and pressing a reassuring kiss to her cheek. 

The walk to the Lee home is not long, but it is closer to the town than to your own home. You greet the few townspeople you come across on the way, offering them small smiles and polite nods. 

The greetings have you in a good mood so you have a little more pep in your step as you bound up the Lee family's porch, curling your fingers around the knocker when you make it to the door. 

"Coming!" You hear a girlish voice say, followed by the sounds of the door unlocking. 

With a slight tug of the door inwards you come face to face with Lee Daeun, the eldest Lee sister, one hand laid on the wood while the other cradles her very pregnant stomach. The polite smile on her face slips when her eyes flash with recognition. 

"I had assumed your mother would be dropping by, not…..you." 

You offer a shrug, "Mother sent me instead, sorry to disappoint." You reply jokingly, trying to ease the tension. 

Daeun doesn't respond right away, choosing to study you for a few moments. The silence becomes awkward quickly so you try your best to remedy it. 

"Congratulations to your sister, what a joyous occasion for her. And to yourself, I didn't know you were with child." You say with a warm smile, probably the most genuine thing the two of you had exchanged thus far. 

You hold out the basket to her, which she takes sliding it up her arm so it rests in the crook of her elbow.

"Yes, well, our family is quite satisfied with her fiancé. He's the son of an artisan, and they live a few towns eastward." Both her hands now rest on her stomach, "As for this one, it's only been a few months. Hyunsik is over the moon, and Momma insists on keeping me inside for the time being, so I don't get out much." Daeun's eyes seize you once more before she continues; "And yourself? I know your family has been searching for suitors, any success?" 

She may as well have doused you in cold water with the way her tone becomes icy. 

"Unfortunately not. I'm not too worried though, I know finding a suitable bachelor can take some time and I'm nothing if not patient." 

A scoff escapes her at your reply. "Worried? I feel you should be rather embarrassed. My youngest sister, a girl who we both watched play with mud when we were all children, is now engaged. Meanwhile you continue to age with no partner to call yours, as well as toting around your poor nephew pretending he's your own. I think it's time you face reality, nobody wants a scarred wife no matter how pretty she is." 

You are stunned into silence, fists clenched and nails biting into the skin of your palms. Every cell in your body fighting the urge to cry at the venom Daeun had spat at you for seemingly no reason at all. 

"Give your parents our family's thanks." Is the last thing she says before shutting the door in your face. 

You stare at the door for a few moments, tears starting to blur your vision, before you turn and hurry away from the Lee's home. 

Hot tears are blurring your vision as you head in the direction opposite your house. You want to find somewhere quiet to cry your eyes out before heading back to your residence and pretending everything is fine and dandy. 

Reaching closer to town, you stumble across the fountain just behind the main street, tucked between a few trees. A veranda shielding it from the setting sun with vines of wisteria weaved through its wood. The flowers are nowhere in sight as their blooming season is still a ways off. You, however, are too busy crying to care much about wisteria.

Shakily you manage to sit at the fountain's edge before your body is wracked with your sobs. Fingers fumble to pull the knot of your scarf resting against your chin loose, and once the fabric comes free you bury your face in it, your tears never once stopping. 

You don't know how long you sit there crying, removing your face from your tear stained head scarf every so often to breathe. 

A soft voice is the thing that finally brings you back to reality, and there before you with worry etched into his wrinkled brow is Jeon Wonwoo. 

Your mind blanks at the sight of him, and it feels as if someone has stuffed cotton in your ears as Wonwoo's lips move but you cannot hear a word he utters. His concerned frown deepens as he gets no response from you, leaning closer. It's as if all the blood in your body rushes to your head and you feel yourself falling backwards as if someone had grabbed onto the back of your dress and yanked. 

Wonwoo cries in surprise as he watches you fall towards the water, arms reaching out to grab you. The sound kicks your brain into gear, it's too late to stop your descent but you throw your hands back to catch yourself. A loud splash echoes through the small area before you are engulfed in the sensation of cold water drenching your skin and clothes. Wonwoo as he lunged to grab you had also met with the fountain water, his hands and forearms submerged, and his body leaning over top of yours. 

Silence buzzes between the two of you as the only thing you can do is stare at each other. It's only then do you truly realize the situation that you've found yourself in. Wonwoo's face is mere inches from your own and the only thing you can think is how much more handsome he looks up close. His strong jaw, sharp nose, and the flecks of honey that swim in the brown of his irises. 

You notice him studying your own face, and as his eyes drift over to the left you remember why you were crying in the first place. Your hand snaps up to cover your scar and this is what seems to break the trance between you and the doctor. Wonwoo can feel the blood rushing to his ears as he scrambles back to his feet, bowing his head and offering apology after apology.

 When you don't respond his eyes meet yours, and he notices you have not made any attempt to remove yourself from the fountain. Your green dress is bunched up over your knees, the fabric now dark due to the water, and your patterned head scarf still gripped in hand. 

Wonwoo's face still feels like it has been set ablaze but he offers you both of his hands, "May I?" 

You nod shakily before he leans over and your hands reach up to grasp his own. He pulls you firmly, but not yanking, and even lets one of your hands go to loop an arm around your waist for a more secure hold. 

You notice how firm his body feels against yours and how much taller he is than you'd thought now that you're practically pressed together. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

Wonwoo slowly removes his arm from your waist and his hand from yours, taking half a step back to give you some (much needed) space. 

"Are you alright? I feel awful about startling you, but I heard the crying and wanted to know if you were okay." 

"I'm fine," you reply, voice small, "my apologies for getting you wet." 

The doctor's lips twitch and you feel perhaps he wants to laugh at you. You wouldn't fault him, you are soaked to the bone, rivulets of water running down your legs beneath your dress. 

"Water under the bridge." 

You almost giggle at that, but duck your head down and compose yourself quickly. 

Wonwoo continues; "Would you mind walking with me to my practice? I live right above it, and would feel better if I could get you into something dry before escorting you home. I know you live a bit out of town." 

Before you can respond Wonwoo must have realized how he sounded. 

"I know because you left me the persimmons and I treated the young boy, though I didn't see you there. I have seen you around town with him though, just briefly of course, completely coincidentally. I don't go out of my way to catch a glimpse of you here and there. I promise, I'm not a strange person." Wonwoo rambles in an attempt to clear the air, though you're not sure it needed clearing in the first place. 

The space above Wonwoo’s office is quaint, what it lacks in size it makes up for in homey-ness. Books piled neatly from where they spill out of the bookshelf, a warm armchair nestled right beside it. A dining table with one chair, both a dark cherrywood, sits against the wall adjacent to the small kitchenette. There’s a small wood-burning stove that looks well loved. Everything in the space feels very Wonwoo to you. 

Speaking of, you can hear him rustling through the drawers in the other room. He ushered you in despite your protests, not wanting to drip all over his home. Once inside he disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a towel clutched in his hand, and then layed it across the floor in front of you. “Since you feel so strongly about not getting my floor wet,” he’d said, before disappearing once more. 

You fiddle with your fingers, still drenched to the bone, as your clothes drip drip drip onto the towel. 

Finally, Wonwoo exits the room, pulling the door closed behind him with a bundle of clothes tucked safely in his other arm. 

“I’m sure they won’t fit like a glove, but you’re likely grateful for dry clothes either way.” His tone is a bit teasing, and you can only nod in response with your ears feeling hot. 

“The bathroom is just opposite of my room,” He says, passing over the clothes to your hands, “take your time. It’s just about dark so I’ll be sure to walk you home. You can call your parents, or husband, when you’re dressed. I have a phone.” He continues. 

The ‘husband’ comment makes you bristle but you decide to clear the air with Wonwoo at a later time, desperately wanting to get out of this wet dress.

“Thank you,” you reply softly, and turn to scurry into the safety of the bathroom. 

You get dressed quickly, not bothering with your undergarments. You’d rather have wet undergarments than be bare underneath clothes that don’t even belong to you, the thought flushes your whole body with heat. 

Wonwoo directs you to the phone, it rests on a side table next to the armchair,  and you dial your house phone with urgency, despite the slowness of the crank dial. The line rings for a few moments, and as you hear the other line click “Mother?” tumbles from your lips. 

Your mother says your name with surprise, “Darling where are you? Are you still at the Lees’?” 

“No, something happened on the way home. But I’m with Doctor Jeon, you know Doctor Jeon? He treated Silas when he had that god-awful fever. Well, he helped me out, so I’m fine. He insisted I call you before he accompanied me home, so I was just letting you know Momma.” 

You listen to your mother talk for a bit more before you bid her goodbye, her voice ringing out a “Be safe on your way home!” before you set the receiver down. 

“Thank you for letting me use your phone, and for the clothes,” you say to Wonwoo, who sits across the room from you in that dining table chair. 

“Of course,” he replies, “now let's get you home.” 

The small talk as the two of you walk the path to your family home is pleasant enough. You find that Wonwoo has somewhat of an eclectic sense of humor, and he’s quite witty despite the seriousness of his profession. In no time your home is visible, and you feel a tinge of disappointment at its sight. 

“Well, I suppose this is where we part,” Wonwoo sighs as the two of you stand in front of the gate of your home. 

“I suppose,” you echo.

A long pause ebbs between you both as you gaze at each other.

Suddenly you feel a jolt go through you as you have a realization. You’d forgotten your dress on the floor of his bathroom. 

“My dress,” you say bashfully, “I left it in your bathroom.” 

“That’s okay, I’ll get it washed for you. You can come by the office in the next few days, I’ll have it nice and clean.” He assures you with a soft smile. 

“Thank you,” you reply. 

Before you can turn to leave Wonwoo continues; “I haven’t seen your boy around, Silas was it? How’s he fairing these days?” 

You offer the doctor a tight lipped smile, “His father took him to visit family a few towns over.” You think you have to clear this misunderstanding up before it's too late. 

“Also, he’s not mine. Silas, I mean, he’s my sister’s son. I’m not married, I’ve never been.” 

“I see,” Wonwoo replies, and you feel you may have offended him somehow at his tone but he continues; “That’s good then, I felt I may have been acting inappropriately towards you. Thinking you were married and all.” 

“I didn’t think you were acting inappropriately at all.” 

“That brings me relief. Then you won’t think me telling you how lovely I think you look would be inappropriate either? Considering you’re unmarried.” 

You feel your ears are deceiving you, because surely Jeon Wonwoo didn’t just say he thinks you look lovely. But as you gaze at his face, a handsome smirk paints his lips, perhaps your ears work just fine. 

It seems your mother has never had a more perfect sense of timing as she swings the front door open shouting your name. 

You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo to call back to her; “I’m here! No need to shout.” 

You hear her footsteps as she makes her way to the gate, shooting Wonwoo an apologetic glance. He offers a soft smile in response. 

It isn’t long before you hear the rattling of the gate lock and your mother’s voice again “Honey, what are you doing loitering around outside…“ Her words trail off as she takes in Wonwoo standing across from you. Her gaze flits between the two of you, pausing at your state of dress; a linen shirt and black trousers that were a few sizes too big. Despite her obvious shock your mother paints on a lovely smile and bows her head in greeting to the doctor. 

“Oh my, Doctor Jeon, I had forgotten you’d be accompanying her home! Thank you for helping my daughter out, you’re quite the gentleman.” 

You shoot your mother an incredulous look, not wanting her to embarrass you further than you yourself already have. She ignores you, of course. 

Wonwoo bows his head with a smile, “Not at all. It was my pleasure, your daughter has quite the interesting personality.” 

“Doesn’t she? We have no idea where she gets it from, there’s no one like her in the family.” 

You assume your mother is trying to rope Wonwoo into having something to eat by the glint in her eye so you jump in. 

“I’m sure Wonwoo would like to head home, Momma. He has a bit of a walk back into town.” 

“Do you?” She turns to him, “We’d hate to keep you.” 

“I have some time,” Wonwoo assures her, “there’s no one waiting for me at home.” 

You can’t help but feel betrayed by Wonwoo’s choice to indulge your mother. 

“Really? Have you eaten? Let me pack some food for you to take!” 

And before any of you can say anything, your mother has Wonwoo’s wrist in her grip gently leading him through the front gate and to your house. 

You run a hand down your face before following. 

Your mother leads Wonwoo through the house, through the living room, to have him sit on the ledge just outside the living room doors that open up to the garden. 

“Now you wait right here,” your mother tells him, “I’ll have my daughter fetch you a drink while I pack up something for you!” 

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies. 

She eyes you meaningfully before grabbing your arm to drag you to the kitchen. 

“There’s some cold yuzu tea in the fridge, take him a glass please.” She sets a medium sized cup onto a saucer, and you recognize it as a part of the china set your family typically uses for important guests. It’s white with some foliage painted on the side. 

You follow your mother’s command as she busies herself with packing side dishes, reaching past her into the fridge where the pot of yuzu tea sits. 

After pouring a cup you garnish it with a rosemary sprig you pluck from the plant sitting on the kitchen’s windowsill. You're careful not to spill as you make your way to where Wonwoo waits, your pace slow. 

He gives you a kind smile as you set the cup and saucer in front of him, thanking you in a soft voice. 

“Your mother made this?” He asks, after having a sip. The tea is quite refreshing, and it's probably one of the best yuzu teas he’s ever had. 

You shake your head. “I made the pot this time, usually whoever finds it running low makes it, between me and her of course. My older sister can’t brew tea to save her life, she takes after father.” 

“Well, it’s delicious. I suppose you’re quite the master when it comes to brewing tea.” 

You shake your head again, bashfully. You feel small under Wonwoo's fond gaze, not sure what is the appropriate way to act when he's showing you such kindness. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, with Wonwoo sipping at his tea and you trying to discreetly study his face. You know you've thought this before but he really is quite handsome. 

"The garden is beautiful, I don't think I've seen one built in the middle of a home like this before." 

"My great-grandfather built this house," you reply, moving so your body is parallel with Wonwoo's, both of you facing the open space. "He traveled a bit with my great-grandmother and when they built this house they took inspiration from some of the homes they stayed in on their travels." 

"I see." He replies, setting his now empty cup down, his knuckles brushing the side of your hand as he does so. 

You pull your hand away, as if burned, and heat flushes your body. 

Wonwoo doesn't comment on this thankfully but you think you see the edge of his lips twitch. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Your mother's voice rings out. Walking to where you and Wonwoo sit with the containers of food wrapped up in an orange cloth. She sets it between you and Wonwoo as she kneels.

"I don't know what you like, so I added a bit of everything! I snuck in a couple of persimmons as well, we have more than enough." 

"Thank you kindly," Wonwoo says sweetly, giving your mother a smile. 

"It's no trouble dear! And don't worry about the containers, I'll have this one fetch them from you whenever." She says, motioning to you. 

"Well, thank you again. I should be getting on my way now, I've overstayed my welcome it seems." 

"Oh not at all!" Your mother pats his arm, "We're always happy to have you Doctor Jeon. My daughter will see you out, don't be a stranger now!" 

Wonwoo gathers the cloth in his fist, and the cup and saucer in his free hand. You take the china, passing it to your mother before leading Wonwoo back towards the entrance of your home. 

Soon you are in the exact same setting you were when you had arrived; you and Wonwoo standing across from each other at the gate. 

"My apologies for my mother, she's the type to flit around even if you tell her to sit still." 

"Not at all. She's quite the character, but I can tell she's also immensely kind. I now know where you get it from." The smile on Wonwoo's lips is teasing and you think about how nice it is to have someone compliment you. 

After a few more short moments of small talk you urge the doctor to be on his way. The sun had already sunk low behind the horizon and the path back to town settled in darkness. You hurry to grab him a lantern, just to help him light his way home, as the roads would absolutely be dark until about halfway into town. 

Wonwoo promises to make it home safely, and he watches you enter your house before turning and making his way to his own. 

Later that night you lay awake, palm pressed to your racing heart, replaying the moment Wonwoo called you lovely over and over again in your mind.

The next few days are spent with you staying busy, too busy even to go see Wonwoo for your dress. Pruning the persimmon trees and overall maintenance of the farm are the allotted tasks that fall to you. The workload is a bit heavy due to your sister and her family’s absence. 

You’ve taken to sleeping in Wonwoo’s linen shirt, his pants have been washed and folded, but perhaps selfishly, you can't bring yourself to part from his shirt. It smells like him, petrichor with a light musk and the hint of something floral. It's intoxicating and the scent lulls you to sleep better than any tea you’ve ever had. 

Sadly, you aren’t meant to hold on to the young doctor’s clothes forever. You have your mother wash the shirt, and find a bag to put Wonwoo’s clean clothes in so they can be returned to him. You intend to slip out quickly, but when your mother catches wind of your plans she rushes off to grab a few persimmons to send with you. 

“Please, he’ll be sick of persimmons at this rate,” you whine. 

She ignores your concern, slipping the wrapped fruits into your hand. “Nonsense! Nobody can be sick of persimmons,” she argues. 

Soon, you are on your way to the doctor’s office. Unfortunately, with the persimmons in tow. The walk to town is pleasant enough, and you get a sense of tranquility with nobody else on the path except for yourself and the occasional woodland creature that makes an appearance. 

You made a point to doll yourself up just a bit, wanting to leave Wonwoo with a better impression of yourself than last time. You don’t have high hopes, but perhaps just a hope that Wonwoo holds any feelings other than cordiality towards you. Your dress today is a dusty pink, and you’d found your sister’s rouge and applied a smidge to your cheeks and lips. 

The air is somewhat brisk, as it usually is in early fall, but the chill still makes you shiver slightly. Red and yellow tipped leaves sway in the crisp wind, it is undoubtedly autumn. Soon enough you are at the entrance of town, face burning with embarrassment as you catch a glance of the fountain, remembering the events that transpired there. 

Your pace quickens. 

As you come upon Wonwoo’s practice, you are surprised to see him waiting outside. Giving you a small smile and a wave when he notices you. 

“Good Morning,” he greets you with a honeyed voice.

“Morning,” is your soft reply, “do you always mill about outside this early?” 

This makes the doctor chuckle. “No, not usually. I saw you coming up the path from my window, so I figured it was only right that I came to greet you.” 

“Oh,” you try to fight the heat blooming on your cheeks, “I have your clothes, freshly laundered. Mother thought it pertinent to slip in a few persimmons even though I told her you’re probably sick of them by now.” 

The smile has not left his lips yet, and he reaches out to take the bag from your hand, fingers brushing against your own. “I could never be sick of persimmons,” he replies, “after all, everytime I have one I think of you.” 

The heat rushes back tenfold, you are beyond flustered and you think Wonwoo notices because of the way his lips quirk up. You feel your brain has been fried at just those few words and you struggle to form a reply.  Thankfully, Wonwoo takes pity on you, despite being the cause of your non-functioning state. 

“Your dress is upstairs,” he tells you, “I didn’t want it to get wrinkled so I hung it up as best I could. If you’d like, we could go upstairs and retrieve it or I can always bring it down to you.” 

“We can go upstairs,” your voice small as you reply, your heart fluttering shamelessly in your chest at the thought of being in Wonwoo’s cozy home once more.

The fluttering of your heart does not stop even as the two of you climb the steps.

You get a lovely sense of warmth when the two of you enter, and you look at the wood stove still kindling. Wonwoo guides you to sit in his armchair, disappearing to the area his kitchenette is. You watch him grab a resting teapot and pour whatever resides within it into a mug. The mug is then wordless placed in your hands, and you murmur a soft “thank you”. 

“Apple blackberry tea,” he explains, “I thought you might need some warming up from the chill.” 

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you reply softly, “thank you.”

A small smile twitches at Wonwoo’s lips as he watches you cradle the mug and bring it to your lips to taste the tea. “Your dress is in the other room, give me a moment.”

You nod, taking another slow sip of the delicious tea. Both fruits pair surprisingly well, and it seems to be the perfect blend for a crisp autumn day. 

Wonwoo returns, your dress folded meticulously and resting in his hands. Despite how well worn it is it looks almost brand new, testament to his care of it.

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to all the trouble!” You stand to take the dress from Wonwoo’s hand, fondness swimming in your chest.

The man just shakes his head, “It was no trouble. It's something that belongs to you so I wanted to make sure it returned to you in an adequate condition.” 

You press the garment to your chest, your eyes meeting his. You try to think of what to say to convey your gratitude but nothing seems good enough. 

It's almost as if Wonwoo turns bashful under your gaze as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t intend to keep you longer, I would accompany you back to your home but unfortunately I have a few patients to see this morning.”

You snap back to reality at this, “Oh! Don’t apologize please, you’ve done more than enough for me, Wonwoo. I can make my way home no problem. Thank you again, for everything.” You give him a nod, walking past him to the door. However, before you can turn the knob you feel a hand at the crook of your arm, pulling you gently to a halt. 

Glancing behind yourself, you see that Wonwoo has stopped you. An emotion you can’t quite place swims within his eyes, and it just adds to your confusion. 

“Wonwoo..?” You say slowly, when neither of you has spoken for a stretch of moments. 

He uses his delicate grip on you to turn your body so you two face each other once more, and the hand on your arm raises slowly to hold your cheek. Suddenly, his thumb is rubbing against your scar gently. He whispers your name and you feel as if you’ve been caught in a trance, you can’t speak, move, or think. All you can do is breathe and feel Wonwoo’s touch. 

His eyes trace the lines of your face, before they find yours. “From this moment onwards, I intend to court you. If you’ll have me.”

His words stun you, a moment of silence passing between the two of you before it is broken by your mouth, moving faster than your mind can. “Yes, I’ll have you. Of course I will,” You say breathily. 

A smile tugs on Wonwoo’s lips and then he is leaning down to brush his lips over your scar, his hand falling from your cheek and finding your own. 

⊱ notes: as always thank you for reading! it really was a pleasure to write this doctor wonu is very dear to me <3333

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: none Prompt: What about the rest of the school. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Not proofread

Chapter 59: Break On Through

You stayed like that, being cuddled by your boys for some more time, just basking in the reassurance of their warmth. No one said anything for a while, but the silence seemed to be the perfect way of wrapping up the previous conversation. Eventually, you sighed and looked at the clock.x

“Do you guys think we can still make it to dinner?” 

“We can bring you some food from the kitchen,” Sirius offered. 

“You can also take my chocolate,” added Remus. “I’ve got some in my pocket.” 

“I think I’d rather have dinner at the great hall,” you said. “Besides… we still have some planning to do.” 

“What do you mean, Étoile? What planning?”

“Well, didn’t you say we would infest the school with toads back at Prong’s house?” You asked with a smirk.

Dinner went all right, the entire school knew about the fire at Rosier’s Christmas Party, but they had covered their –and in turn your– tracks very well. It was as if only a few people knew about the Dark Wizard convention that it had actually been. 

They had published a whole article about the fire, about it being caused by unforeseen causes, and about it being fierce and of dark nature, which was why they couldn’t control it. Your father took back the mention of your implication and ended up saying you ran away because you were upset over your mother’s passing, and that he would give you space. 

They’d added an “in memoriam” section in which they remembered all the deceased on the fire, which included the honourable Cygnus Black of the Noble House of Black, your mother Avis, some other wizards that you didn’t recognise but that you were pretty certain had also been dark wizards, and, of course, near the end, there was Frey and Nina Blythe. In the paper, they claimed they had both been invited to the party and that, unfortunately, they had been way too close to the origin of the fire. There was no mention of the other pile of bodies that you’d seen, but if they had all been muggles, it was no surprise. 

At the end of the paper, there was a small caption that said: The Daily Prophet sends their gratitude to Arkalis, Orion and Silas for sharing the facts with us, without them we wouldn’t have been able to tell the story of The Great Fire Of Christmas. You took the newspaper, bunched it up in a ball and threw it on the floor, you would have burned it if you didn’t hate the idea of the few eyes that weren’t on you to turn your way.

News really did fly in the wizarding world, the Slytherin table was crowded with students; everyone was trying to talk to the few who had been invited to the party, but none of them seemed to want to speak much about it. Barty was talking about his amazing vacation in Thailand, and Evan was sitting next to him with his mouth completely shut. 

Regulus, had almost jumped out of his seat when he spotted you but figured he would have instantly diverted all of the attention on his table towards you and he knew that would be a terrible idea, so instead he sent you a look, you gave him a short nod in response and he turned back to respond a question from a Hufflepuff girl that you recognised as the same who had tried to flirt with Sirius back when you were James, Zia. She wanted to know if he had seen how the fire started, and if you had actually had anything to do with it. 

“I was with her most of the night. She wasn’t even close to the ignition point,” he retorted, loud enough for her and about the other half of people loitering next to them to hear. Reggie knew there wasn’t much he could do, but making sure your name stayed out of the school gossip was something that he could manage. 

“But why did her father mention that she might have been–” the girl insisted with a pout and a rather petulant tone. 

“Don’t you think Chancellor Silas was affected by the passing of his wife while he gave that first interview?” Regulus retorted before she could even finish her sentence. “She’s my friend, and I won’t tolerate people bad-mouthing her for the words of a grief-stricken man.” 

“You’re friends with that Gryffindor?” an older Slytherin boy asked. 

“And he’s not the only one!” intervened Dorcas, her imposing glare was enough to shut him up. Solacis sent a wink her way and then turned back to the conversation he had been having with Nox. 

When Reggie joined the conversation of the two boys (that was thankfully focused on Quidditch since the Cannons were close to winning the championship) the Hufflepuff girl huffed and walked towards Evan and Barty, to see if she could get information from either of them.

You used Remus and Sirius as a shield from prying eyes until you reached your table. “Pete,” you said extending your hands when you spotted the blond and leaned in to give him a tight hug. Peter had read about Christmas in the papers and while he had been queasy, James ’ letters had been enough reassurance, (he had no idea about your fight with Sirius since eveyone had been too wrapped up in themselves to worry about the news, last thing Peter knew was that you were at the Potter’s. “How was your vacation?” 

“It was fun,” he said with a smile and leaned in to give a short hug to the two boys flaking you. “I heard you’re in on the prank now?” 

You smiled, “I’m always in on the prank. Did you finish your quest?” 

He nodded as he patted his bag, “And you two?” he asked as he nodded towards Remus and you. 

You both had a good idea of the combination of spells that you wanted to use, you had talked about it, but you had never gotten to the creating/testing part.

“Kind of,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Where are the girls?” You asked as you realized none of your other friends were there.

“They had dinner at the Three Broomsticks,” James said, they said they would stay and unpack, but Wormmy wanted dinner.” 

“I was starving!” Peter responded. “My mum wanted to put me on a stupid diet and when I got here, I was–” he looked at you and cut himself off as if what he was about to say was not apt for your ears. If only he knew you’d seen him inside the broom closet in the map, “–active, and then the elves said there would be meat pies.” 

“I guess it gives us time to plan things out,” you said as you took some bread from the table and added some butter to it. 

“We’re setting it at night, right?” James asked, looking pleased with the fact that you had walked in with Remus and Sirius, with that smile of his that screamed “I know something that the rest don’t”.

“I guess I could come over after unpacking,” you shrugged. 

“You can take my cloak,” James said with a nod, he was making himself a very thick sandwich with roast beef, lettuce, tomato and… bacon? 

Your mouth watered at the idea of that sandwich, but decided not to go ham with the meat yet (pun intended), not when you hadn’t eaten it in days, it seemed like it could make your stomach upset. You did add a few stripes of bacon to your cheese and veggie sandwich thought. You were looking for something to add as a dressing when you saw Sirius’ hand sneakily cross over to your plate and take a piece of bacon from your sandwich.

“Sirius!” you complained as he plopped the piece onto his mouth. 

“Sorry luv, there wasn’t any left on the table.” 

You scoffed, and you were about to argue again when Remus took a piece from his plate and placed it over your sandwich, you turned to him with a surprised gaze. “Rem, you don’t have to do that, Sirius and I were just–” 

“But I wanted to,” he retorted with a sneaky smile and then gave Sirius a bit of a challenging look, which had the other boy scoff. This was not a contest, but if it had been one, then Sirius was determined to win it. You were eating your sandwich when the main dish turned into dessert, and the table was filled with all sorts of cakes, muffins, scones, meringues, pies and cookies. Sirius grabbed a few of your favourite cookies and dropped them on your plate, about at the same time, Remus had seen your favourite pie, pulled it from the bunch, and placed it on your plate. 

They threw each other a look, and in between bites of your sandwich, your plate started to –rather quickly– get filled with all of the desserts you normally enjoyed (not that you ever enjoyed them all at once!).

“What’s with those two?” Peter asked as he leaned closer to James, who just shrugged. 

“Haven’t they always been a little crackers?” 

You gave James a look and he winked your way. You were on the last bite of your sandwich when Sirius added another cookie to the pile and caused it to collapse over your clothes. Your top getting filled with merengue and bits of lemon curd while Sirius looked at you in shock and Remus threw him a murderous gaze. You picked up some of the merengue and brought it to your mouth, “Whichever of you fools picked the lemon tart was actually brilliant,” you said as you savoured it. Sirius threw a satisfied “I won” sort of look at Remus who just narrowed his eyes even further. “Shame it got all over their face,” you added with a shrug, you got a confused look from Sirius before you took your already messy hand and spread its lemon curd and meringue all over his face. 

“Starshine!” he complained with a gasp, which had your smile widening. He brought his hands to his face to wipe some of the meringue from his eyes. “Ugh! You’ve even gotten it on my hair!” 

“You got it on my jumper,” you retorted diverted while you took a piece of the cookie stuck in the sleeve and plopped it to your mouth. 

“Yours? Since when?” Remus complained. He’d given it to you before you came for dinner since he noticed you were a little cold. 

“Well,” you said as you brought your hand back into the mess in the sweater, “I think it was since…” You picked up some of the meringue with your finger and then drew it towards him, but he was quicker than Sirius and grabbed your wrist in the air before it hit his face. 

“You were saying?” He asked with an amused face.

You didn’t miss the teasing “Ufffff…” that Sirius emitted from the background. 

“I was saying that,” you said as you pulled your free hand towards the dessert pile and tried to dig it into some more pie. 

“Careful, little fox,” Sirius intervened as he pulled your hand from the pile before you even managed, you huffed in response. 

“You’re no fun,” you added with a pout.

“Oh, we’re plenty fun,” Sirius said as he eyed Remus, silently communicating something. “Aren’t we Moony?” 

“Delightfully so,” the latter confirmed. 

“We’ll show you just how much,” Sirius added with a confident smile and leaned over to kiss you, making sure to have his face so close to yours that he was basically transferring your previous mischief back at you, all the while he cornered you against Remus. You were laughing and trying to push Sirius away as he kissed you. 

“Rem,” you said in between kisses, “help, I’m being attacked,” you joked. 

“But you were going to attack me, sweetheart,” he retorted, leaning to the side enough so you wouldn’t actually have an escape route. He then took a napkin and carefully wiped your finger, he had thought of licking the stuff away, and he knew that he’d fluster you if he did, but Peter was already looking at the three of you with a rather shrewd gaze, and he didn’t want to make it too obvious before either of you were ready to tell him about it. Regardless, he did lean over a little closer and whispered, just loud enough for the two of you to hear, “Besides I’m rather enjoying the view…” 

You had gotten so flustered after he said it, that you were glad Sirius had spread meringue all over your face, and was still all over you, meaning his hair was covering most of your reaction. Eventually, you gave in and kissed Sirius back, ignoring the sticky meringue and the getting lost on his lips. You were both almost propped on Remus’ lap, and you could feel his hand on your neck, a soft pressure, as it to let you know he too was there, and he was enjoying it almost as much as Sirius was. 

James, who knew about the entire drama, was actually pretty happy with the fact that you and Sirius were back together, and while he would have been the first one to complain in a normal situation, this time around he was just sneakily looking at Remus, who was trying really hard not to blush under his friend’s suggestive gaze. 

“Get a room,” Peter said after clearing his throat for the fourth time. You and Sirius burst out laughing, and he dug his head into your nack, getting even more meringue all over you. 

“Such an asshole,” you said as you pushed him off, and he just kept on laughing. 

“As if you didn’t snog Annie Doxon like that,” Remus retorted with a wink. 

“Or worse,” you muttered as you looked for a napkin. Remus heard it, and had to hold back a laugh, masking it with a short cough. He took his handkerchief and started wiping away some of the pie from your face. 

“But not in public!” Pete retorted with a scandalized tone. 

“Remus was shielding us from the public,” Sirius said with a shrug. “And the table, I mean did you see anything other than my hair?” 

Remus gave you a teasing look, a small raise of his eyebrows as the two listened to their bittering. He had his hand on your chin and was now cleaning some of the lemon curd on your left cheek. He was clearly enjoying himself.

“But we still knew!” Wormmy argued.

Their little discussion went on for a while. Remus had even finished with his –actually quite slow– wiping off your face and you were both already eating some of the treats while Sirius and Peter kept going on about the do’s and don’ts of PDA. James had actually started paying closer attention to the conversation and sometimes added points for and against their arguments.

“But listen, a small peck is fine, straight-up snogging makes it awkward!” 

“Well you could just not watch,” Sirius argued. “You couldn’t even see it.” 

“But I could hear it! I cannot imagine how awkward it must have been for poor Moony.” 

“Mmmm, yeah, totally awkward,” Remus said with a small smirk, his sole purpose was to piss Sirius off slightly.

“Shut up Moony, you enjoyed it,” Sirius said before turning back to Peter. “I mean, you could just cover your ears.” 

Remus leaned closer to you and whispered, “And he doesn’t even know how much.” You turned to him as you almost choked with your own spit. He just gave you a pleased smirk in retort.

“Or use a spell,” James suggested, oblivious to Remus’ teasing, thankfully.

“No. But you don’t get it–” Pete started, clearly exasperated. At this point, you weren’t sure if Sirius was actually in on his point, or he was just getting a kick from getting a rise out of Wormmy. 

By the time the dishes disappeared, Sirius and Peter had agreed to disagree. Sirius insisted that PDA shouldn’t be vetoed, while Peter claimed that it wasn’t about vetos, but rather about being empathic of other people. 

“They don’t want to see you snogging Vixen, it makes it awkward.” 

“Well I think they kind of enjoy it,” Sirius said with a shrug. “No one complains when people snog in movies.” 

“For Godric’s sake, this is never gonna end, is it?” Remus said. 

You grabbed a piece of chocolate and started munching on it casually as he joined the conversation. “We need to unpack, how about you continue your little snogging or not quarrel in our room.” 

“Moony that’s a terrible idea, we won’t sleep if they do,” James intervened. 

“The reason we’re not going to sleep, is actually quite different,” you added with a smile. 

“That’s what she said!” Sirius teased, you threw him a look and he returned it with a wink. 

“Perv,” you joked.

“But Vix is right, if we want our little stunt to be ready by tomorrow, we better get moving.” 

You sighed, letting your head lean on Remus’ shoulder. “I should probably unpack too.” 

“And see Lily, she was worried,” James intervened.

You picked some of the desserts that had not been squashed and placed them on a napkin so you could snack while preparing the prank (although Peter had also veered off from the rest when he claimed he’d get some more sugar from the elves). 

“See you in a bit,” you said as you stepped out of the great hall. 

James waited just until Pete was out of earshot before he spoke, “Will you tell him about your thing?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius said. 

“We’re not sure when, thought,” Remus chimed. 

“We’re still figuring our thing out,” you added.

“Yeah? And what is it?” 

“Ménage a trois,” you responded James question. “James, don’t you dare laugh!” 

“I’m sorry,” he retorted with a smirk, “It’s just, I mean, it works.” 

“Indeed,” Sirius said with a proud sort of expression. By then you had already reached the the end of the stairs. 

“Password,” the lady in the portrait sang.

“Doodledeefondling,” Remus said confidently and the lady smiled.

“Mr. Lupin. Always knowledgable.” She smiled and opened the door. “It’s nice to see the rest of you troublemakers.” 

“Troublemaker?” you said with a scoff as you turned to look at her and got softly pushed by Sirius to walk inside. “I’m not a troublemaker!” 

“You kind of are,” James said with a shrug. “You wouldn’t be a Marauder if you weren’t.” 

“But Remus gets to be–” you changed your pitch into a higher mocking one– “Always knowledgable”  –your tone went back to normal– “And I’m troublemaker?!?” 

“To me, you’re a doll,” Remus said with a shrug. You turned to him with shock for like the fifth time that night. You were not used to his flirting, even if you quite enjoyed the flips in your stomach it caused. 

James groaned. “Will I now have to deal with the three of you flirting with each other all the time?” 

“Suck it up Prongs, it’s better than when we were fighting,” you retorted. 

“Yeah, and nous sommes amoureux.” 

“That’s ‘we’re in love’,” you said as you leaned closer to Remus since you’d noticed he often felt left out when Sirius did the french thing. 

“Yeah, I got that one,” Remus said with a sneaky smile and passed his arm over your shoulder. “Seadh, tha sinn gu cinnteach ann an gaol.” 

“I’m going to convince Hope to get me a copy of that fancy dictionary of hers,” you said with a sigh. 

“Faodaidh tu feuchainn,” he retorted with a shrug.

You had promised to write Hope, and you had exchanged a few letters while you were at the Potters’, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea to actually ask her for a copy of her dictionary –you were sure Lyall would be able to make a copy of it using a simple gemino, although books were a lot harder to duplicate than most things, sometimes the text got messed up and resulted in hilarious (mostly non-sensical) text. 

“We’re going to our room,” James said as you reached the stairs, “See you later?” 

You nodded. “Try and collect all the s-bombs in one place, I’ll bring the books we talked about,” you said as you looked at Rem. He nodded in return, he was biting his bottom lip as he tried to hold back a smile. 

“We really should have seen it earlier,” Sirius said as he looked at the two of you interact. 

James, who was looking at Sirius pretty much gawking at you both nodded, “And I’m the extra blind one… Hey Vix,” he called your way, as he pulled the invisibility cloak from his bag and threw it your way, “don’t get yourself in more trouble.” 

“Can’t help it,” you said with a smirk as you caught the cloak. “Didn’t you hear Lady MacDougal? She said I’m a troublemaker…” 

“Lady McDougal?” Sirius asked with a frown.

“The Fat Lady,” Remus said as he threw him a side glance.

“She has a name?” he asked shocked.

“You thought she was Fat Lady?” you asked with a frown. 

James gulped, “Where did you two even learn that? Is it on a book?” 

“It’s not on a book,” you said with a frown. Both boys looked pretty shocked still. “Are you telling me, you’ve been living here for almost seven years and you never once thought of asking her name?”

“You did?” Sirius asked.

“Of course I did! I was not going to say ‘Good evening Fat Lady, could you please let me in?’ She would have left me outside!” 

“I just say the password,” James said with a shrug. 

“And that’s why you’re troublemakers and I’m Always knowledgable,” Remus said with a smile.

You laughed and shook your head as you started to walk up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Just before you lost sight of them, you turned around, “I’ll bring the Instant Darkness Powder.” 

Sirius gave you a suggestive wink and you were tempted to throw the cloak at his face, but Remus was quick to turn him around and pull him to walk the other way. At least one person has common sense in this relationship, you thought. Huh, turns out we really did need a third one in the end…

By the way, you reached your room, you hesitated at the door for a few seconds. Last time you’d seen –and talked– to any of the girls had been at the party. And while most of them believed you had been “sick” as Effie told everyone, Lily knew –thanks to James not keeping his mouth shut– that you had left his house.

 James had sent her a letter asking if you were staying with her or any of the girls (which would have been a way better idea than staying alone in Diagon, you should have thought of that before casting yourself out like you had been exiled from their lives all together). Again, James proved to have way more common sense than any of you did, surprisingly.

You took a deep breath and walked inside. “Hey, Luv!” Marlene said when she spotted you, “Was hoping to see you on the train, everything all right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, a little shocked by her casual tone, but at the same time immensely thankful. Mary came up to hug you after Marlene did. Lily was the last, a little hesitant as she looked at you and then pulled you into a very tight hug. 

“We need to talk,” she said sternly as she pulled you to her. You swallowed thickly at her words. There was a lot you had to tell her, and you were immensely glad that you still had friends who cared about you as much as James and Lily did, even if both wanted to murder you for being so stupid. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was scared.” 

“I went through a lot,” you whispered back. “But as many sad news I have to tell, there are good ones too.” 

Lily pulled back with an arched eyebrow and a hint of a smile. You nodded, and as you looked at your beautiful friend, you noticed that just behind her fiery hair there was something that you had not expected to ever see again. Sirius’ portrait of you.

Lily noticed your lost gaze and turned around, instantly seeing the picture, and then your gaze roaming all over your bed. Your things, everything you had left at your apartment (including the snake plushie from the Slytherins) were neatly placed on your bed, along with a currant-coloured envelope. 

“It was there when we got here,” Lily said. “When Marlene saw it was from Silas she was pissed, she almost burst it into flames.” 

“From Silas…” you repeated as you looked. Not quite daring to approach it just yet. “He sent my stuff back?” 

“And a gift too,” Marlene said with a rather angry tone. “If he really thinks a little something is going to atone for telling the press that you started the fire then he better–”

“Marlene–” Mary said a little sternly. “It’s not your fight.” 

“It is! It’s OUR fight, she’s our friend and if you won’t say anything against her piece of shit father then I will!” 

You smiled, you saw where both girls were coming from, their personalities shining through their thoughts almost perfectly, and you were glad to have them in your life, “It’s all right,” you said with a small smile. “I understand.” 

“Will you read it?” Mary asked as you approached the bed and took the envelope in your hands. 

Truthfully, your first thought upon seeing the envelope and the shiny red box behind it was to burn them as well –so much for not being deemed an arsonist– but you had done that to a letter before, and it had only brought you heartache. And while you didn’t expect whatever was in Silas’ letter to be nearly as revealing as Regulus’, something told you it wouldn’t be clever to get rid of it, at least not until you were ready to read it. 

“Not yet,” you said as you picked the envelope from the bed. It felt heavy in your hands, even if it wasn’t physically so, it was as if you were holding some type of weapon. You opened a drawer and shoved it to the end of it before closing it with colloportus. Not because you didn’t trust your friends, but rather because you didn’t want to accidentally open it yourself, see the letter and ruin your day. You then looked at the box, and pushed it under the bed before you allowed yourself to fall on the it with a small frown. 

“I’ll help you unpack,” Lily said as she opened your suitcase. 

“You don’t have to,” you said as you sat on the bed rather quickly. “I was just going to leave it there until I–” 

“I’m already done with my stuff, and I think the girls were going down for some refreshments.” 

“Tell me if you want it gone,” Marlene said nodding to the drawer you’d placed the letter in. “I won’t hesitate.” 

“I know,” you told her. You truly appreciated her support. 

“Good,” she said with a smile while Mary sighed. 

“Do you need anything?” she asked. “We’re going to see if Ackley has something good. I heard he brought muggle snacks.”

“Can you get us some Oreos?” Lily asked turning to Mary. “Have you tried them?” She added while turning to look at you and Marlene. Neither of you had. “Let’s hope he has some. And milk, we should get our hands on some milk.” 

“I think we can transfigure that one.” 

“We can?” Lily asked as if surprised by your suggestion. 

“I mean, I have the book, you have the expertise.” The three girls laughed after that, and Marlene and Mary left the room shortly after. 

Lily’s face quickly turned into one of concern. “What happened?” 

You took a deep breath. You weren’t sure you were ready to tell the story yet again, but you thought that perhaps skipping past the worst thing and focusing on the positive side would be a good idea, so you went with that. 

“...and now we’re all dating,” you said in the end. 

Lily was completely dumbfounded, you had sped through telling the story (especially the part in Gringotts) and she had listened to you quietly, not wanting to interrupt you at all since she was scared you’d just stop talking altogether. So she didn’t say a thing when you told her about running away from the Potters, or when you told her about the chair almost attacking you in the room. She was quiet as you mentioned Gringotts and the mirror, and she seemed truly happy when you told her you’d resolved things with the boys.

When she was sure you wouldn’t be speaking again, she pulled you into a tight hug, “My God, I’m glad you’re okay!” She said as she pulled you closer. “James said he was scared, I read about the party through your letters, and I’ve been keeping up with the newspaper, and I thought– well James was quick to reassure me, I was so happy you were staying with Remus, and then with the Potters but when you left his house, and there were news of other attacks on the Quibbler –that’s a new magazine they’re publishing, the creator graduated last year, and I knew him– I was even more scared for you! You should have sent me a letter or something you idiot!” 

“I didn’t want anybody to know where I was,” you said, “I thought I didn’t deserve it.” 

Lily sighed closing her eyes and biting her lip at your words, “Nina would have never wanted that.” 

Tears prickled your eyes after she said that. “I’m aware,” you said as you looked to the side and tried to blink them away. “She was always there, some part of her at least, and it was… protecting me, in the snow and in the mirror, she–” you bit your lip, and took in a ragged breath. 

Lily brought you back into the hug, “If I were her…” Lily started. And the worst part was, that she really could have been. She might have been older, but she was as much a muggle-born as Nina. “If I had been her, I wouldn’t blame you, I’d be protecting you too. And I think you should really continue using her wand.” 

You turned to look at it, now lying on the bed, long, thin, and certainly powerful. You would, the painful reminder of her every time you saw it would become the fuel to keep you going and to protect your friends above everything, just like she’d done.

“I know,” you said with a sigh. 

“Now, on the other subject…” she said as she pulled back while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Godcric heavens, please no,” you said as you hid your head between your hands. 

“Why not? I think it’s nice,” she said with a smile. “I mean as long as you’re actually happy with the result,” she added, looking at you attentively. 

You turned to look at her, you’d had plenty of friends before, but never someone as sweet and caring as Evans (unless you counted Remus, but he was your boyfriend now). “Trust me,” you said with as you took a deep breath. “I’m more than happy with the result.” 

“Oh, there’s a story behind that,” she said with a smile, shaking your shoulder for you to continue talking. 

“Well remember Marlene’s party? The dare?” 

Lily thought about it for a second and then straight up gasped. “Oh shut the fuck up, Sirius was into it, wasn’t he? How didn’t we figure this out sooner? We’re supposed to be the clever ones!” 

“Blinded by love,” you said with a shrug. “It’s the only way I can explain my stupidity.” 

She laughed at your words, mostly because she realised how true it was. The entire thing had started around the same time her relationship with James took off and she had been a little distracted by and with him. Not to mention he was almost always around the other marauders, which meant if everyone was interacting together, Lily wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to the rest of the boys as she would have. 

Lily helped you place some of the books from your bag in your desk (as neatly as she had accommodated hers) while you focused on putting all of your clothes back in your trunk and on some of the drawers in the wardrobe you shared with her. She was rather curious about your new relationship and she kept asking you questions about it, a few that you hadn’t even known how to respond, which had made both of you laugh merrily. 

Marlene and Mary came back while you were finishing up, their hands filled with all kinds of treats, both muggle and wizard by the looks of it. “They had Oreos!” Mary said excitedly.

“What’s that book you mentioned?” Lily asked while checking the shelf over your desk. “Is it The Transfiguration Tome: From Basics to Brilliance?” 

“No, I think it’s on Mastering... ugh…” 

“Mastering Metamorphosis: An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration?” 

“Yes! That one,” you said excitedly, and took the book when she passed it over, flipping through the pages until you found the right spell, “All we need is a jar of water…” 

On it, Marlene said as she brought it over from her bedside table. “Relashio scatere,” she whispered, and a stream of water left her wand, quickly filling the jar. She then turned to Lily with a smile, “Your turn.” 

She was reading through the spell with a small frown, “I wonder if an alteration to this one could give us something like chocolate or strawberry milk.” 

“I mean if not, we could probably figure out a spell that could.” 

Lily did the wand movements without casting the spells a couple of times before she approached the jar “Aqua vertere Lactos,” she said. The water quickly turned into white liquid. The four of you stared at it expectantly. 

“Think it worked?” Mary asked.

Lily frowned, “I’m not entirely sure, I fear I might have said something–” Marlene had already taken a gulp, and the expression she made was priceless.

“Sour milk,” she said with that same disgusted frown as she tried to shake away the taste from her tongue. “We made sour milk.” 

“Let me check,” Mary said as she pulled the book from Lily’s lap. “I think I known the problem, It’s lactis, not Lactos.” 

Marlene gave a look at the two girls, and stood up, taking the jar with sour milk and bringing it along to the bathroom. 

“It sounds the same, though,” Lily replied with a frown. 

“Is it an i or an e?” You asked.

“An I,” Mary retorted, showing you the page. 

“In Spanish, the I sounds like e, maybe it should sound like lact-es? Spanish and Latin are pretty much cousins, right?”

“Well, technically…” Lily started, Latin would be more like the mother of Spanish, but the information felt almost irrelevant at that point. “Actually, never mind, let’s try it that way,” she said in the end. 

Marlene had already returned from the bathroom, jar freshly filled and mouth still tasting slightly of that sour flavour that she found particularly distasteful. “Quick, I want to get this flavour off my mouth.” 

“Don’t pressure genius,”  Mary said as she lightly hit Marlene on the arm.

Marlene was about to retort, when Lily did the spell again “Aqua vertere Lactes.” 

The liquid, once again, turned white. Marlene looked at it, but this time she did not go straight to drink it. “Well then, try it,” Mary said as she motioned towards the jar with her head. 

“I tried it last time, it’s your turn.” 

“But I’m showing you the Oreos, it can’t be my turn!” Mary reasoned. The two girls turned to look at Lily, who seemed mortified at the idea of trying the milk. 

“I’ll do it,” you said as you took a small teacup and served yourself some of it. 

“So brave,” Marlene said dramatically as you brought the tea to your lips. 

“And?” Mary asked as you took the first gulp. 

You kept a serious face for a second, and then smiled, “Milk!” 

“Yeah?” Lily asked with a satisfied smile.

“I mean, it might be a little watered down, like Low Fat Milk, I think.” 

“Wait, really?” Marlene asked and served some herself. “Also a little like Mooncalf milk,” she added.

“Shit, that’s right!” you retorted after taking another sip. “It’s pretty much like Mooncalf milk.” 

“Mooncalf milk?” Mary asked with a small frown, “Those things have milk?” 

“Yeah,” you responded. “Pretty delicious, it’s good on potions too, though a little expensive since they aren’t all that easy to milk.”

“I’ve heard they use it on sleeping draughts and a Valerian Spring tea with some of that will for sure knock you out. My nan used to make it for me and Margo when we had nightmares.” 

“Right, mine did that too, although she never used Valerian Spring, she used Lavender,” you retorted. 

“Weirdos,” Mary said as she looked at Lily, they had both also served themselves a cup and were hesitant to taste it. Lily was the first one, and nodded, it did taste like low-fat milk, and she assumed the “mooncalf” taste that you and Marlene found had to do with the tinge of sweetness near the end.

“It’s good, try it,” Lily said as she nodded towards Marlene who was still looking at the milk like it had come from outer space. She eventually did take a sip and seemed pretty satisfied with the taste as well. 

“It’s like the milk left after you’ve eaten all the Frosties,” she said towards Lily who nodded.

“What’s that?” Marlene asked.

“Muggle cereal,” you retorted. You had tried it on a muggle hotel once. Silas had encouraged you to try all the interesting muggle food in the buffet. He’d mentioned something about broadening your horizons outside of the Wizarding World. You wondered how someone like him could be both open to the world and a complete bastard at the same time. “So what’s with the Oris?” 

“Oreos,” Mary corrected and pulled out a white and blue box with a little yellow “One Pound Size” label at the top, and the name OREO in capital letters with a small dot at the end. 

“Oh, they look like Bourbon Biscuits.” 

“They don’t have bourbon,” Mary said as she opened the box and laid them out in front of you. 

“Well that makes them less cool than Bourbon biscuits,” Marlene said with a pout. 

“Shut it,” Mary said and handed over a small plastic bag with round sandwich cookies on the inside, “Only they could compare Oreos to Burbon Biscuits,” Mary said almost exasperated. 

Marlene pouted playfully and opened the bag. Lily took a cookie and held it in her hands. “Okay, hear me out, this is how you eat them,” she said before splitting the cookie, licking the inside, putting it back together and dipping it in the milk. 

“Why?” asked Marlene with a frown. 

“Why?” asked Mary, almost scandalised. “Have I ever asked you why you always put on your left sock before the right one? It’s just because!” 

“But is it a rule? Like on the package or something?” You asked next. 

“It’s in the commercials!” Lily said, taking the cookie out of her milk, shaking it a little and bringing it to her mouth. Once she swallowed her first bite she seemed genuinely satisfied. “You gotta savour it.” 

You shrugged, and muttered a small “well then,” before you took a cookie from the bag and followed Lily’s instructions. The filling didn’t taste like much, but the cookie did become pretty soft once you dipped it in the milk, which you thought was nice. Even after you accidentally left it on the milk for too long and it got so soft that it broke inside your cup. 

“What the–” you said. Marlene seemed just as puzzled when hers did the same.

“What?” Asked Mary.

“It broke,” Marlene retorted, trying to fish hers out with her wand.

“Ah, right,” Lily said right after swallowing her cookie. “They are not charmed against getting soggy like wizard biscuits.” 

“That’s so weird,” Marlene said as she managed to levitate the soggy cookie and brought it to her mouth, “and mushy,” she added with her mouth full.

Both Lily and Mary laughed, while you attempted to fish the cookie with a small teaspoon. 

Mary had also brought some other snacks and you all enjoyed a pretty delicious and fun “Welcome Back” feast of sweets. They had brought other muggle stuff like Walkers Crisps, Flying Saucers, Nice Biscuits and Jammie Doggers. The latter of  whichLily seemed to like a lot and neither of you skipped the chance to tease her about. See, Jammie, was just a letter away from Jamie, and when Marlene said: “Don’t eat James yet!” you all bursted out into a laugh.

Lily froze as you said that, completely confused by her words when Marlene pointed at the packaging of the cookies. She did say it was Jammie as in Jam, not as in Jamie, but not even Mary cared about the technicalities and continued teasing her about it.

 They had also gotten a few Aero bars, and you asked to keep one after tasting them. You weren’t sure if Remus had tired them but you thought they were pretty interesting with their bubbly texture and whatnot, and since Rem had always been a fan of chocolate –or chocolate connoisseur, as Sirius called him–  you thought it would be nice to take some for him. 

“I’m so full,” Marlene said as she allowed herself to fall back on the floor. “I might not sleep today.” 

“As if,” Mary laughed. “You sleep like a log!” Marlene just answered with a disgruntled groan. 

“Shall we fix this up?” Lily asked as she waved her wand over it. The wrappers went straight to the trash while the leftover treats neatly accommodated themselves in a box that Marlene kept under her bed.

“So talented,” you said with a yawn as you looked at her dreamily, she pushed you by the shoulder playfully after that. 

“I swear, you two would make a fantastic couple,” Mary said. “If only you weren’t dating two idiots.” 

You were about to defend both of your boys when Lily answered for you, “But they’re lovely!” You ended up laughing after that. Not because you didn’t think they were, but because she didn’t even bother to correct her. “Besides, like Holden is any better!” Marlene gasped at that and threw a small cushion on Lily’s face. “Oi,” the latter complained.

Mary yawned after that, “Let’s just sleep!” She said, almost a little petulantly, her yawn had been so contagious you followed right up –not that you could actually sleep.

Marlene pulled the box from the floor as she stood up and left it under her bed before walking to the bathroom, washing her teeth and dropping on the bed. “Are you sleeping here?” Lily asked, almost in a whisper.

“I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much tonight,” you replied honestly. She gasped, eyes wide at the implication that. “It’s not like that!” you rushed out. “We’re planning something.” 

“Is it like… Marauders' business?” 

“I’ll absolve you of blame by keeping you in the dark,” you retorted. Mary was still in the bathroom, wrapping her hair carefully like she did all the time before bed. It was the only way in which her curls would look as wonderful as always in the morning. Not to mention the potion she had already become a master at brewing. 

Lily sighed, “I think Severus is on perfect duty tonight, you should be careful.”  

You smiled, “Thank you,” you said. “Not just for this. For everything.” 

“It’s what friends are for,” she replied with a smile and a small shrug. “Anything I should know? Things like bringing an umbrella, making sure my clock is set at the right time, staying away from a certain classroom–” 

“You like toads?” you asked.

“Only the chocolate ones,” she replied. 

You nodded, “Then maybe… don’t leave the room at all,” you responded with a mischievous air and she gasped. 

Your full name was uttered in the most cheerful tone you had ever heard, followed by a simple “...what the hell are you planning?” 

“Shhhh!” you retorted. “Marlene is asleep.” 

“Marlene’s asleep my ass,” she retorted in a hushed tone. “How could you even consider–” 

“Evans, stay out of it or I’ll tell James about your dream with him,” you said while raising an eyebrow. 

She gasped, “You wouldn’t dare.” 

You really wouldn’t dare. But instead, you leaned your head down and narrowed your eyes, “Wouldn’t I?” 

She huffed in return, and stood up, walking towards her bed. “Hope you get caught.” 

“You don’t, not really,” you retorted with a teasing smile when you noticed the little shake of her shoulders, she was laughing. 

“You better keep them away from me,” she retorted. 

“I’ll try,” you said after she walked into the bathroom. 

“Keep what away from her?” Mary asked as she stepped out and walked inside the room.

“You’ll see tomorrow,” you retorted with a mischief-filled smile.

Glossarie: Seadh, tha sinn gu cinnteach ann an gaol - Yeah, we’re definitely in love nous sommes amoureux - we’re in love Faodaidh tu feuchainn - you can try

BONUS CONTENT

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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Read more Marauders Fiction

[ashen-char]

we can be pirates

my masterlist, to check out my other works, is here

ship: river (all souls) x reader (gender neutral)

summary: river wants to give her daughter the best birthday party possible. noticing that it's personal for her, you help.

word count: 2400+

notes: requested here. split into two parts bc it surprised me how long it was getting. title from taylor swift's 'seven'. TELL ME THE SKULLS DONT GIVE PIRATE VIBES

River sits on the couch you two hauled off the road just last summer, flipping through the pages of a worn-out book on crafts. Beside her sits her mini-me, her daughter Jade who always loves being dressed up just like her mama. Big brown eyes go wide with excitement as the little girl points at one of the pictures.

"Mama, we can make this for my party," she exclaims, her small finger tracing the outline of a paper flower.

River hums, a tight smile on her face. "Yeah, baby. It doesn't look too hard. That'll be great."

Jade giggles and marks down the page number, already a small list of ideas on her pad of paper, her legs swinging.

Despite her smile, River can't help but think of how she wants more for her little girl. How she hates that Jade already knows they have to cut costs like this. Maybe if she pushed down her ego that told her she can do it all alone, without a cent of Silas' dirty money. River shakes her head, willing those thoughts out. She focuses on the pride blooming in her chest that Jade's still so happy and content with homemade efforts. She's raised a smart, kind, and wonderful girl. God, she can't even believe her baby's turning six in a week.

"You wanna help me?" she asks, poking Jade's cheek, who has now moved on to the section about invitation cards.

"Of course!"

This is when you walk in, joining them on the couch. You were busy preparing dinner so you didn't catch the full conversation, but the apartment's small enough where you could catch bits and pieces even without eavesdropping. Before you have a chance to tell them the food's ready, Jade shoves the book in your hands.

"You can pick one! I like this and this and-" Jade's pointing all over the place, choosing invitation cards she likes the look of seemingly by random if you didn't know her well. Luckily, you've had the chance to. Under River's upbringing and her own endless curiosity, Jade loves so many things it's hard to think of one straightforward theme. She loves her monster trucks as much as her stuffed puppy, as much as the manga the older kids in the apartment complex show her, as much as nature and princesses and scary stories.

"Woah, woah, slow your roll, kiddo." You wipe your hands on the apron before putting your hands on the book, knowing you'd get glares if you greased it up. "What's this about a party? I thought you didn't want to do a big one," you question.

"She doesn't. Says she'd be alright if it was just the three of us sharing pizzas and watching TV," River answers, to which Jade nods. "But Jade's in school now, you know? All the other moms already side-eye me for having her so young. I don't wanna give them more ammo, or make them tell their kids not to hang out with Jade anymore."

River has complained to you extensively before about the mom politics going on. Invite someone's kid to a party and they don't invite your kid back? Consider yourself dead to everyone. Couldn't bring muffins to their stupid bake sale? Worst mom ever award.

"I want Jade to have fun with her friends and not worry about being teased about not having a huge unicorn cake, or whatever. So..." River gestures to the book pressed into your hands, and you note all the marked pages of ideas.

You know the deeper reason too. How deep down, River wants better for Jade than what she had, never wants her to feel like she's going without. She wants Jade to feel like the other kids. To be able to stay a kid for longer, not cutting back on the toys she asks for just because you two are going from paycheck to paycheck. That's your responsibility as the adults. She shouldn't have to worry, shouldn't be punished for being born River's kid. It's something you've assured River about over and over again, that Jade's lucky to be hers and that the little girl knows it. But you can understand that wish too. Jade's such a sweetie. If any kid deserves to feel special on their birthday and get everything they ask for, it's her.

So it's no surprise that River isn't sold on the whole DIY party vibe. Resourceful is one thing, but she hates feeling cheap. Hates asking for or needing cash. She'll let go of her pride if the situation gets tough, but damn does she hate when people assume she can't take care of her girl.

"Hey, Jadey?" you ask, scooching down to address her directly. The two of you have agreed to not talk about money problems in front of her, so you know she should be far away for this discussion. "Can you go to the kitchen and turn the stove off? And when you're done, how about you write down all your friends' names that you want there, and draw them all a special invitation?"

Jade perks up at the request, liking to go on 'special missions' to help you or River. She likes the responsibility, likes that her favourite people can rely on her. It's part of what makes her such a good kid. "OK! Here!" As she hops off of the couch, she hands you the book. "They're gonna be the best pictures ever!"

"Don't come back too soon, OK? We're gonna come up with lots of ideas to surprise you!" you call out.

You turn to River, who shoves the book aside, frustrated. "Fuck. I don't wanna be a wimp about this, honestly. Or make it all about me."

"Hey." Your hand goes to her shoulder, rubbing right where she always seems to get tense. "It's fine. It's your first time living too. Or whatever the phrase is."

"It's just- I would've done anything as a kid to have had a birthday party," she shares, shaking her head like she thinks she's being ridiculous. But River does melt into your touch, letting you start to rub up, getting to the junction where her neck meets her shoulder. "This sucks to say, but I was always too ashamed to take any of my friends back home. I'm grateful for it now, but it was tiny and it smelled and I knew it. Didn't want them to give me shit for it."

Listening intently, your fingers trail over her shoulders as River sits up and tugs her knees to her chest. "And I didn't wanna hassle my mom. She was already doing so much to take care of me and put food on the table," River tells you. "My friends invited me to ones with the fancy custom cakes and the goody bags filled with toys and snacks, you know? The parties where the kids get to wear crowns and the parents take a million photos. My mom couldn't afford to take a day off of work, and I didn't have enough allowance to buy a gift anyways. So I never went to any."

And you can understand that. It's not like being a loner is always a choice. Sometimes you know that even if you try your best, you won't fit in, so why try? Pretend it's a choice. Pretend you're above it all, too cool for it, when all you really want to do is have fun with everyone.

"She's turning six. We could turn a sprinkler on and call it a water park and the kids would scream and laugh more than at some expensive party," you say. They're easy to impress at that age, at least in your own memory of being a kid.

River shakes her head. She wraps her arms around her knees tighter, resting her chin on them. "A water park? Really? She's six. She wants a real party with her friends, not just an excuse to run around like crazy. And it's not like we have a backyard for them to run in anyways." Something in her throat trembles, and it makes her voice rise with frustration. "I want to give her something special, y'know? I want her to feel like a princess for a day, not a charity case. Throwing around some paper decorations isn't gonna make the apartment bigger."

You know that tone, and you want Jade to have the very best too, so you fix on a more serious face, not wanting your girlfriend to feel like she's alone in this. "Fine. OK, so what's... special but free? Botanical gardens? Beach?" you start to pitch and brainstorm. "What's the best space to pizzazz with these paper flowers that Jade's gonna kick ass at making?"

When your hand reaches her ear, she just melts. It's a soothing gesture that helps when River gets these horrific stress migraines, pinching and rubbing along the lobe to coax blood flow. River thinks for a moment, considering those suggestions. "Yeah, the beach could work," River says slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Jade loves the water, and I know her friends would have a blast playing in the waves."

"We'd keep an eye on them the whole time obviously," you add. "Section off an area just for the party, probably with whatever decorations Jade's picked.

More on board with the crafts now that they have a space in mind, she hands you the list of ideas Jade already jotted down. "Here. If you can read her handwriting."

Just like Jade's interests, her ideas are all over the place. Not that you don't appreciate her creative process, but cowboys, aliens, and dragons don't sound very beachy. There are pages that she scrawled down that go together though. The foam sword, the paper pirate hat, and a treasure map. You'll pour coffee on it, crumple it a little, and singe the edges with a lighter to make it look authentic. A pirate theme sounds like the ideal way to make everything cohesive, especially since it'll keep the kids entertained so no one goes home complaining to their parents.

"It could be like a scavenger hunt," River says. She's been steadily getting into the whole idea, pitching all sorts of ideas to make Jade's special day great. "Kills two birds with one stone. The map is something they actually use instead of a set piece and we'll know where they are when they run around. Make sure they stay where we can see 'em.

"Yeah, I like that! When I was a kid, I read these Skullduggery books and was like, damn, imagine digging something up. Me and my siblings buried this time capsule at the beach, but I'm pretty sure it just got swept away by the waves."

"You shoulda dug deeper," River teases, but pecks your lips when you pout at the memory. "OK, so that's settled for the main activity. What can we put in the chest that won't break the bank?"

Chocolate coins, obviously. The two of you take turns listing out treasures that you'd find for cheap, like candy necklaces and plastic swords that will be sturdier than the foam ones. Eyepatches are a must too. Plastic telescopes and octopus pop-its.

River writes down a note that Jade could make her friends a custom friendship bracelet to thank them for coming and commemorate the occasion. Plus, it would get that rainbow loom set you two bought her out of the storage. Jade went on a bracelet-making kick two months ago but got bored, so now you've got all these extra loom bands around.

The two of you get to throwing around food ideas (you, personally, wanna serve chicken nuggets but brand them as 'gold nuggets') when Jade comes out of her room.

"Ta-da!" the girl says, holding out her birthday invitations. All told, there are seven, with radically different drawings attached. There's a horse (which looks like a giraffe with the neck honestly), a robot, a ballet dancer... "I've got six best best friends, so they've all gotta come. Mackenzie's got a little brother that should probably come too since they're always together, so I made him a smaller one."

"It's very sweet of you to think of your friend's brother." River shoots you a look as she says this, since Jade has been very fixated on siblings ever since you moved in. You shrug. You're not opposed to the idea but babies are expensive so the conversation has never gone longer than "that'd be cool!"

"These are awesome, kiddo! Think you could add something to each of 'em? Me and your mama thought a theme would make your birthday even cooler," you say.

"A theme? Oh, what is it, what is it?" Jade's already got her crayons in hand, ready to add to her masterpieces depending on your next words.

"Mmm, let's just say that you could be a mermaid, or have a peg-leg, but you can't turn up as a land-lubber." You cringe as soon as you're done saying it (you had been writing clue ideas for the scavenger hunt for the last ten minutes, OK?), but it makes River laugh so it's worth it.

"Pirates?!" You think the windows might shatter, that's how loud Jade's shriek is.

"Hell yeah, baby girl!" River says. "You like it?"

"I love it! Thank you so so much!" Jade leaps between you two, her tiny arms trying their best to wrap around and hug you both at the same time.

Upon seeing River's excitement as she shows Jade the list of ideas you two came up with, you can't help but smile. Your two favourite girls in the world are so hyped now that they're not even thinking about the cost, which was what you've wanted from the start. Jade pores over the list, nodding and adding little notes to the margins. There needs to be vegetarian options for her friend, Priya, for example, and she doesn't want it soooo different from the other food that Priya feels like she's missing out.

The day ends with half-made paper flowers, hot glue on foam, and Jade's rainbow loom taking up space on the kitchen counter and dozens of tiny colourful rubber bands all over the floor. Not to mention the dinner you cooked, which has gone cold and forgotten still on the stove. But when you turn to see Jade passed out on the couch, River's eyes lock with yours. Tired and pissed off from watching too many DIY YouTube tutorials, your girlfriend mouths "thank you. Jade was so happy," and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[hazyange1s]

Ominis Gaunt Headcanons

I’m honored some people seemed to vibe with my Sebastian post 🥹 so of COURSE I had to compile a few things about the only blonde man with rights that I’ve come up with while writing/chatting on discord.

A very popular one that I basically accept as canon: he plays the piano and learned to from a young age. Sometimes, he even composes his own pieces (that he rarely shows to anyone).

He has a lovely white barn owl named after one of his favorite composers; Gabriel (Faurere)

Adopts one of the castle strays; a little black cat that goes by Phoebe.

Adores Earl Grey tea and drinks it every morning with LOADS of cream.

Sebastian often helps him with picking out clothes and shaving — even though Ominis insists he can do it by himself with magic.

Doesn’t like loud noises as he has very sensitive ears (his hearing is absolutely impeccable).

Because of his superhuman sense and perceptiveness, he can tell who’s walked into a room by the sound of their footsteps/breathing patterns alone.

Another popular one I’ve seen floating around: when he gets married, he chooses to take his spouse’s surname on the principle that he will not carry on the family name.

His birthday is January 9th, 1874. He’s a Capricorn sun, aquarius moon, virgo rising.

I totally support the gay HC. HOWEVER… I write him as pansexual; he doesn’t give a flying fuck what you got going on. If he connects with someone — that’s it.

Besides Marvolo (the eldest) he has two other siblings: another older brother (Silas) and an older sister (Cordelia).

Obviously we know he’s rubbish at Potions, but Ominis excels in Charms. He would love Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures more (as he finds flora and fauna quite soothing), if he wasn’t…

… a bit of a germophobe. does not like to get “dirty”.

Definitely an amazing gift giver. Somehow he always knows exactly what someone needs — even if he does spend more money than necessary sometimes.

Amortentia: the previously mentioned favorite tea, shoe polish/some other cleaning product, lavender, and his hair pomade.

Slytherin Prefect and Head Boy

Despite being proper and polite on most occasions, as we see after he finds us coming out of the Undercroft… Ominis has a vindictive side.

In fact, he’s blackmailed and verbally beaten down an array of horror-stricken students who dared to insult him or his friends. Sadly, this doesn’t help his “I’m not a dark wizard” case much.

But when it comes down to it, he’s a sensitive, poetic person with the biggest heart.

[yume-writes]

Jun being captured and turned into a techno-organic is diabolical. I can only imagine the horror on everyone's faces. Especially the cardbots. Jun is a child, the holder of the Metal Breath and their friend.

The bots want nothing more than to hunt MECH down and kill everyone involved in Jun's reformat. They turn to Blue Cop expecting him to stop them. But he doesn't. He's not going to.

He's had all this build up from his own captures between Megatron and MECH. Shockwave taking Mega Trucker and Shadow X.

And he just snaps

Silas and the rest of MECH shouldn't be worried about the others. Because they have a very, very pissed Star Guardian at their door with blood on his servos and any defenses and guards outside the base as nothing more than carnage.

The others are, of course, partially horrified. They had planned to kill MECH, yes, but Blue Cop just did it on his own. And it was more brutal than anything they'd had planned.

And Jun? He knows he should feel a little bit horrified about what Blue Cop just did in his defense. But he doesn't. And when Blue Cop swears he will do the same to anyone else who so much as looks at Jun in a way that makes him uncomfortable. He only feels safe and relieved.

~🎶

MCB x TFP crossover

Blue Cop is done, just done with everything, and who can blame him? After everything how can you stay calm or even sane after all of that

Add onto the fact that Blue Cop is Jun's protector, he's supposed to protect Jun, his parents placed their trust in him to protect Jun and he failed that. He failed so badly, Jun can never be the same after this

When Blue Cop sees Jun for the first time, the amount of rage and hatred that fills his body is deadly. He's tired and sick of this, sick of MECH, sick of Shockwave, and sick of Megatron. He's done.

Nothing matters now, Jun's safety is the only thing that matters. Blood and gore covers his body, it doesn't matter, the others yell after Blue Cop, concern for him, it doesn't matter. He gets Jun, feels him sob, and cling to him, shaking, and goes to the medical bay

No one stops him, they're stunned, in shock. No one knows what to do. What do you do when the one with the most level head snaps?

Blue Cop spends the rest of his time beside Jun, not leaving his side for a moment, he won't fail him again

[girl-named-matty]

𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: 𝐀𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Welcome to... The Hayrose Cinematic Universe!

An alternate universe of Hogwarts MC's that all started with one simple ship between two delusional nerds (AKA me and @acslytherpuff <3) and spiraled out into a whole separate universe! I'll show you around! I'll show you around! Buckle up because we got a lot to go over!

Meet the crew!

These two lovely souls are Alvin Hayoung and Matty Ambrose--hence the ship name "Hayrose". You guys have probably heard and seen a lot of them if you've been following my blog these past couple of months. These two are the kickoff to the HCU! It all started with one look when Alvin was immediately smitten and well the rest is history.

This is Cassie Luna, Alvin's best friend and loved by many. She's practically the whole reason why Matty and Alvin are together. Both reluctant to confess, Cassie gave them just a little (very big lol) push in the right direction (as in she threatened to feed alvin to the dementors, dont ask) and they were together by the next week.

Speaking of Cassie, let's get onto her boyfriend, Alex. Now, if it isn't already obvious, Alex is Alvin's older brother. Guess the four of them are completely stuck together forever. Alex is your typical bad boy but he's got some soft spots, especially for Cassie. He's a year older than Alvin but returned during Alvin's 7th year to finish his own last year at school and of course, met Cassie and immediately knew she was the one for him. (Alvin, Cassie, & Alex by @acslytherpuff)

Now that we've introduced those four, let's get into the groups! (I swear we were all on something while coming up with these names, I'll leave it at that LOL)

"The girlies", "The Rizzies", and "The Baddies," Pretty gen-z for some Victorian teens, right? The Girlies

This is Amberlyn Salters, but we all just call her Alyn. She's a part of "The Girlies" and ironically, so is her boyfriend, Ominis. That's because he knows all the gossip so we let him tag along. And while she can be rather quiet, she's usually analyzing something in her mind, trying to answer questions, or breaking them down. A true Ravenclaw if you ask me. (Alyn is by @ps-cactus)

This is Vittoria "Tori" Lewis, probably one of the coolest girls ever. Lover of all things caffeinated, she's a joy to be around. Her girlfriend, Poppy, is also an honorary member of "The Girlies". Tori brings the much needed chaos, when she has enough caffeine in her system, of course. She's loyal and a hard worker, staying true to the Hufflepuff house reputation. (Tori by @espressoristretto-patronum)

This is Valentine "Val" Black and she's one of our spitfires. While simultaneously being able to deal with her family, she also somehow manages to keep up with her boyfriend, Cal, and their 24/7 third-wheel Ale, who we'll introduce later. They are the CalValAle trio and she's got those boys on an impressively tight leash. And while she's quite the loving girl, don't try to take advantage of her. She is in no way a pushover and she'll let you know that. (Val by @savingsallow)

This is Johanna "Jo" Newman. She's both intelligent and the first one to dive into danger if needed--which gives her boyfriend, Silas, a heart attack every time. Thank goodness his hair is already greyed so he can't get any more greys with her. But Jo is extremely loyal and if you ever need random facts, Jo is definitely the person to go to. Her mind is an endless pit of random knowledge. (Jo by @ravenwind-75)

This is Damien Evans and yes he is a part of the girlies but thank goodness his boyfriend Sebastian is not (last time he tried to infiltrate, it did not go well). Besides having the most amazing hair on the planet, Damien is involved in all of the girlies activities, including the sleepovers. He's the hair braiding champ 💪. His creativity is unmatched and he's quite compassionate as well! (Damien by @theladyofshalott1989)

This is Ellie Crawford and she's actually a part of both the girlies and the baddies, Ellie is the protector of the group and can scare anybody out of a fight before it even starts. She also protects the girlies secrets from her other group, the baddies, when they ask what's going on at the sleepovers. The tea is hot y'all. Ellie is confident, full of hilarious sarcasm, and is quite the morally grey character you can't help but love. (Ellie is by @accio-bagel)

Onto the Rizzies

The Rizzies consist of three hufflepuff's who, or at one point, have absolutely no rizz but yet give each other silly and ridiculous dating advice but somehow it worked? This trio consists of Alvin and two others I will now introduce.

This is Theodore Lupin--Or Theo for short. And yes, it's that Lupin you're thinking about. And it's really ironic that he's even in this group because he's quite literally too afraid to talk to most women anyway, unlike his best friend Cal. Half of the time, it's just Alvin and James trying to get him out on a date... he'll get there. (update: he finally got a girl!)

This is Jaimsen "James" Hisui. He made it into the Rizzies by being flirtatious and having really bad pickup lines that he's really creative about, actually. But I guess it worked since he pulled his boyfriend, Ren. His outgoing personality definitely played a part in that too! He's also amazingly creative (and very hyper lol) but oh so friendly! (James is by @leaping-toadstool-caps)

Onto the Baddies!

So, we already know Alex and Ellie, so let's get on to Ale, Cal, and Freddie.

Callan "Cal" Gaunt and Alejandro "Ale" Salvatori are quite the interesting duo who happened to like the same girl for a while--hence the love triangle situationship thing that nobody can ever keep up with. While Ale third wheels Cal and Val most of the time, he's still very loved by the both of them. Both of these are rather flirty and witty but under the surface of that, Cal is quite the passionate and soft guy and Ale immerses himself in things such as poetry. Both are very loyal to the people they love. (Ale also belongs to @savingsallow)

Fredrick "Freddie" Harpis is the last one in the Baddies group. He doesn't even know how he got here, his girlfriend, Ellie, just pulls him around to things most of the time. Also with a little influence from his sister figure, Matty, from time to time. He's a little rough around the edges but deep down he's a total softie he just won't admit it :) (Freddie by @freddiestheproblemchild)

We're done with the groups--but did you really think we were finished there? Think again.

The Evanders

These are the Evander brothers, Killian and Silas. While Silas is a normal Slytherin student, enjoying the company of his girlfriend, Jo, and his friend group, his older brother Killian is always finding ways to meddle in things. Nobody knows why he's so dedicated to annoying the group, or getting involved in the messes, we can just assume it's a pastime of his for whatever reason lol.

So just know, wherever the HCU crew is going, Killian is probably soon to follow.

Honorable mentions!

This is Phillip! He's Professor Fig's adopted son and a good friend of Matty's whom he met in Charms class and he is a fellow member of the Gryffindor house. (By @endeavour12345)

This is Danny, he's also a good friend Matty's but he's also good friends with Silas! He and his girlfriend, Adelaide, can often be found together around the herbology greenhouses or up in the Ravenclaw hall, studying with Silas. (By @catohphm)

These two are Jamie Ambrose and Amara Ambrose. Jamie is Matty's "Brother" (they're basically twins with how alike they are) and Amara is their chaos cousin. This family tree is complicated! (Jamie by @rypnami and Amara by @boxdstars)

This is Helena Elwyn-er, well Professor Elwyn. She showed up a year ago and gave the whole school something to talk about when she began her relationship with our other Professor, Professor Sharp. Apparently they had known each other for years and well, now they're the two professors everybody knows are dating even if they haven't outright said it. She's like an extra mom to a lot of the school and to be honest, she probably knows more students than anybody else. And will always be the first to help them get out of detention :)

So, how did all of this happen?

Backstory

The origins of the HCU have changed quite a bit but to accommodate for so many MC's, we've come up with quite the silly answer that involves Sebastian being an idiot and accidentally resulting in the start of the HCU.

Alvin, Alex, Cassie, Alyn, Cal, Theo, Val, and Ale, all existed in the same universe and knew each other (except for Alex until 7th year), all attending school at the same time. In this universe (the HCU), all the crazy 5th year stuff doesn't take place. It's a relatively all around peaceful universe. Of course, you still have people like the Gaunts and Killian always meddling around but that's better than the crazy fifth year stuff, right?

Meanwhile, Matty, Ellie, Jo, Tori, Freddie, Damien, and James were all off in their own separate universes, dealing with the absolute hell that was their fifth year LOL. However, when they were down in the catacomb with Sebastian, dealing with the relic, something went wrong and each of them were sucked out of their own universe and sent to the HCU all at the same time while their version of Sebastian was left very confused.

Naturally, they were very confused as to why this universe was so different. Why wasn't the fifth year here like the one they had experienced? Of course, they all immediately went to the school looking for answers. Let's just say every single professor were very confused as to the random influx of students and Professor Fig was left wondering why so many of them seemingly knew him so well (although he welcomed the love with open arms, alongside his wife, Miriam, of course.) And while it took forever, eventually it was worked out but they decided to stay, enjoying the peacefulness that came along with this universe.

By the time 7th year rolled around (which is when the HCU is set), things had been worked out and everything has been accommodated and figured out and all of them are now living very happy lives within the HCU :)

(don't ask about what happened to their prior universes, we don't know. that was too much work to go through.🤣)

I hope you all enjoyed and will enjoy coming on for the ride that is the Hayrose Cinematic Universe!

Disclaimer: This entire universe is a completely separate one from that of each MC's original lore (save for a few). This idea is simply just a bunch of friends having fun and nothing complicated is meant by it lol.

[cxlrayne]

No longer lost.

Romance ! Fluff/Angst : "Sunshine" x "Grumpy" GN reader

Synopsis : A grumpy, lonely person keeps pushing everyone away, until one cheerful guy refuses to leave—not to fix them, but to simply stay.

[Pls dont flopp🙏🙏🙏]

enjoy !

You hated it. Their laughter, their friendships, their easygoing nature, you just hated it or much to say, you despised it—it all felt like a mockery. Was it their fault, or was it yours?

Were you just incapable of finding happiness?

Had life became too cruel too you?

Or were you just that much of a hater?

You don’t know — and honestly, it seems like you never even tried to care. Is it because of what they said? That ignorance suits you, that apathy defines you? That’s what they said, not you.

It’s not your fault you’re grumpy and short-tempered. It’s their fault — for surrounding you with nothing but annoyance.

It’s not your fault you glare at people for no reason — they were the ones looking at you strangely, smiling like they knew something you didn’t. Honestly, why are they even smiling? What is there to smile about? It’s not like there’s a camera pointed at them, waiting to capture the moment.

And honestly, it’s not your fault for shooing those “human beings” away with a few snarky comments. It’s their fault — for existing, for breathing, for making your life just a little bit worse by being in it.

So no, it’s not your fault. You just learned to survive in a world that never asked what you needed — only why you weren’t smiling.

Happiness is just a performance. Laugh, talk, post your perfect moments — but what’s the point? It doesn’t really mean anything.

It’s exhausting, really — their pity, their concern. As if you’re missing out on something amazing. Happiness? Where?

You’re tired of their pity — tired of hearing that you “just need to find happiness.” As if that’s something lying around waiting to be picked up. All you ever find is more reasons to be annoyed, all you ever see is nonsense and people who won’t shut up.

Maybe you don’t want to be fixed. Maybe you don’t want to be understood. Maybe it’s easier to push everyone away than to admit you’re just lonely.

They post quotes about gratitude, share pictures of sunsets, pretend coffee can cure emptiness. As if putting a filter on sadness makes it beautiful.

Maybe you're just tired of trying.

And of course, there’s that one obnoxiously loud guy who keeps showing up — Silas. his grinning and smiling blinding your eyes. Seriously, who the hell does he think he is?

He waves at you every single time, like it’s some ritual. A cheerful “hi” like he hasn’t noticed the permanent scowl on your face. He holds the door open for you, too, like it’s his life’s mission to sprinkle happiness wherever he goes. And then, as if that weren’t enough, he actually talks to you. Not just once. Not by accident. Consistently. Casually. Like it’s normal.

And what’s worse — he keeps doing it even after you give him snark, eye-rolls, and silence. You’ve thrown every cold remarks in the book, laced your tone with enough sarcasm to make a child cry, and yet… he just smiles. Like it doesn’t hurt. Like maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t care that you’re trying to push him away.

Does he think that makes him your friend? That waving and holding doors and surviving a few insults earns him some kind of award? is this his idea of bonding? Is he that immune to rejection, or just too oblivious to see it?

He finds excuses to be near you — sitting one seat too close, showing up wherever you are with some silly reason, like he just happened to be passing by.

Silas remembers the smallest things you say, brings them up later like it means something. He offers you gum, shares his snacks, lends you pens you never asked for. He laughs too easily at your dry remarks, like he’s trying to prove he gets you.

Sometimes, he walks beside you without saying anything at all, like silence is enough. Like just being near you is a victory in itself. And the worst part? He acts like it’s all natural — like he’s not trying at all, like the closeness just happens.

Most people get the hint. They back off, shrink away, disappear like they were never really there. But not him. He stays. Not in some dramatic, clingy way — just... consistently.

Is it bad that you’ve started to enjoy his presence? you catch yourself smiling when Silas' around? That his little compliments  the ones you used to brush off now get appreciated and linger longer than they should? You don’t know when it started, really.

Maybe it was the way he kept showing up, or the way he never expected anything from you. Maybe it’s just been so long since someone looked at you without judgment.

Whatever it is, it’s messing with the carefully built distance you swore you’d keep. And you’re not sure whether that’s comforting… or terrifying.

You start to notice things you shouldn’t. How his smile always comes a second too late when no one's watching. How his laugh sometimes sounds like he's trying too hard.

You hate that you’re noticing. You hate that you care. Because if you care, then you’re vulnerable.  You don't want to owe him anything. Not your time, not your attention, definitely not your feelings. But here you are, thinking about him more than you'd ever admit and also caring about him.

Somehow, you’ve started giving him compliments — not full nice ones, obviously. More like “not bad, for someone who talks too much,” or “you almost look like you have taste today.” Snark first, sincerity buried somewhere beneath it. It’s pathetic, maybe. Or maybe it’s the only way you know how to be kind without feeling exposed.

You let him hug you now. Let Silas rest his head on your shoulder when he’s tired. Things you used to swat away or glare off — somehow, they’ve become allowed. You’ve started to see it: he’s not all smiles and sunshine all the time. Even he gets tired. Even he needs somewhere to lean.

It’s not like he asks for much — never has. He doesn’t demand your attention or beg for affection. He just… shows up. Quietly. And lately, you’ve started to meet him. Maybe with a sigh, maybe with a sarcastic comment, but you're there. You stay.

Sometimes, you catch him watching you — not with that loud grin he throws around for the world, but something softer. Quieter. Like he sees something in you that you’re not ready to see in yourself. It’s kind of comforting.

He doesn’t say thank you when you let him lean on you, and you’re glad. If he did, you’d probably push him off out of reflex. But the way his shoulders relax, the way he exhales like he can finally breathe — that says enough.

And maybe you still roll your eyes. Maybe you still complain and scoff and pretend it’s all just mildly tolerable.

And though the words stay trapped behind your teeth, you think them anyway

Please don’t leave.

Not now. Not when you’ve finally let someone in.

But when he reaches for you a hug, a hand, a silent closeness — you don’t pull away anymore.

You let him stay.

And that says everything.

He'll be there for you, and you'll be there for him.

And maybe thats enough..

He doesn’t try to fix you. He just sees you. And maybe that’s what you’ve needed all along. Not someone to pull you into the light just someone willing to sit with you in the dark.

So when Silas shows up tomorrow all loud, smiling, and annoyingly happy — you won’t roll your eyes. Instead, you'll say something sarcastic and walk beside him like it’s normal.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be glad he didn’t give up on you — even when you already had.

Pls dont flop pls dont flop pls dont flop🙏

[eatsbooks]

34 bauble for adonia/emile gimme the other side of the coin

adile / maronia + bauble

When Adonia was a youngling, her mother had a statuette on display in their sitting room. Not a single guest came to visit without heaping compliments on her.

Every strand of her mid-night hair had been lovingly carved, then painted over with so fine a brush that none clumped together. Her dress, a rich, royal crimson, fluttered down her body as though caught on perpetual breeze. Always, she was laughing, the beautiful, tinkling noise that males preferred. Her dewdrop face was bright with it.

The detail was so fine, it seemed impossible to Adonia that she was not alive and simply faking. A pixie seeking safe harbor, perhaps. Such pests were known for their trickery.

Adonia would often leave the room — with intention, mind you, so that the pixie would not sense the lie — then exercise her newfound ability to step through the world and appear before the statuette to catch the pixie, finally, in motion. Devious herself, she never fell for such a ruse. Adonia was still not convinced.

Frustrated one afternoon after her etiquette lesson, and not yet tall enough to reach for the pixie to shake her into truth, Adonia flicked her fingers at the statuette and set her on fire. She did not want to hurt the pixie, of course. Just startle the little thing into action. Her flame never hurt her, you see, so she did not think much of it at all.

But her mother, who had been walking by, was at once aghast.

She is alive, was all Adonia first said by way of explanation.

She is not, her mother said. Why would you want to hurt her, if you thought she was?

I did not want to hurt her. Angry, suddenly, and uncertain why, Adonia asked, What is she for, if she does not do anything at all? If she only stands there, laughing, day in and day out?

Her mother looked at her quite sadly, then. It would be many years before Adonia understood why, and when she did, she would make a very similar face. She brings people joy, little love. Just by being. She does not need to do anything but that.

After that, Adonia came to live like the statuette.

She brushed through her hair, until it shone, until every strand was separate and fine.

She donned the latest fashions, in royal colors, in eminent cuts.

She laughed, beautiful and tinkling, in the way that males preferred.

Not a single suitor came by without heaping compliments on her.

When she attended court for the first time and the mating bond snapped between her and Emile — when she felt it, before he had even looked her way — when she could not keep from blurting it out and earning his sneer — she was glad that even for her indignity in the moment, all she needed to do was be, and she would soon bring him joy.

Sitting at his side now, Adonia stares into the flickering centerpiece of the banquet table and thinks to the statuette, as she has not done for some time. In her memory, it is alive. In her memory, it is still a pixie, tricky, devious, aflame.

The fire before her goes out. It is such a trivial use of her ability that she waves her hand before she can think better of it, and the flame roars back to life.

In her periphery, Emile’s grip on his fork tightens. He interrupts his conversation to snap, “That is servants’ work, Adonia.”

One of his brothers snorts from across the table, just as she murmurs out, “Apologies, my lord.”

Emile cuts a look to him. “Something amusing, Marius?”

But it is the same-faced one beside who leans forth and says, “It’s such low-hanging fruit. Must we even give it voice?”

Marius laughs, then incites the fire into a dance between them.

Silas waves a hand, and a centerpiece down the table flares up. “Come now, Emile,” he says, tipping his head to the other end of the table, where a third candle burns tame. “Your turn.”

In her lap, Adonia feels her fingers twitch. She does not mean for them to. It is much like setting the statuette on fire: frustration set free.

The flame soars towards the ceiling.

Down the table, the eldest brother issues command, cutting and final: “Enough.”

All of the centerpieces die down, abruptly.

Emile, staring daggers at his brothers across, thankfully does not seem to realize it was her who lit the third. But the twins do.

Marius slides his eyes to meet hers and smirks, a clandestine curve to the corner of his mouth.

Adonia drops her gaze to her plate.

But late into the night, when Emile has left their bed in pursuit of another, she dreams about it: a statuette burning up into a pixie, and a male who prefers her that way.

[unabashegirl]

Vicious 4 || Harry Styles x Mafia

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

Author's note: asked to get tagged! Here is my Patreon in case you want to get ahead and get early access to more chapters.

word count: 2.0K

masterlist

The scent of blood permeated not only one's nose but also clung to hair, clothes, and anything one wore. The atmosphere in the chambers was perpetually cold and damp, creating an unsettling ambiance. It was a dark, eerie place, one that instilled fear in young Harry when he was just a boy. Back then, he knew it as the forbidden place where his father would take people to "take care" of them.

It remained off-limits until Harry turned fifteen, and Arthur began to introduce him to the macabre secrets within. The first day proved harrowing; overwhelmed by anxiety and the overwhelming scent of blood, Harry couldn't endure it. He vomited and cried to his mother, vowing never to return. However, that resolution crumbled as his father included him in the sadistic practices of torturing their enemies.

Arthur meticulously groomed him, desensitizing him to the gruesome reality until he could slit someone's throat without flinching. The cold, merciless chambers became a training ground for the heir, shaping him into the unyielding figure he would eventually become.

Harry lingered in the shadows of the chamber, where the man accused of desecrating his father's corpse sat. Bound to a wooden chair in the room's center, the accused man met the somber gazes of the onlooking men. Sympathy tinged their expressions, but a collective understanding resonated - what needed to be done had to be done. Even in death, loyalty to the former boss persisted. Silence enveloped the chamber as Harry contemplated the situation, contemplating the best course of action.

"What did you plan to do with the body?" Harry inquired, his voice cutting through the chamber's heavy air as he methodically made his way from the back to the front. He aimed to confront the accused, locking eyes with him before delivering the punishment that awaited.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man named Dimitri retorted smugly, a hint of defiance in his demeanor. He understood the perilous situation he was in, yet he remained prepared to face the consequences. Dimitri had been sent on a specific mission, aware of the risks involved in targeting Arthur. What he hadn't anticipated was Harry's foresight in stationing men to guard his father's grave.

Harry cast a brief glance at Lex, and in that moment, the first blow landed on his face, sending him into a quick daze. Dimitri hadn't seen it coming, unaware of Lex standing beside him.

"I'll ask again. What were you planning?" Harry queried, turning his back to walk up to the tools laid out for the impending ordeal.

"You're just like your father. A fuckin' prick," Dimitri spat out, the second hit landing with brutal force, rupturing his eardrum and filling his senses with a piercing ringing. Despite the pain, a twisted laughter escaped Dimitri's lips, echoing through the chamber.

“You don't know who I am? I was there that day. I can still here your mother’s screams” Dimitri taunted in his mother language, revealing to Harry who had sent him, striking at the rawest nerve.

Harry moved swiftly, catching Dimitri off guard. A knife sliced through his leg, triggering screams and shouts that fueled Harry's anger. Dimitri's calculated reference to Harry's mother only intensified the fury within him, leaving no room for remorse.

Harry moved quickly before Dimitri could realize what he was doing. A knife went through his leg. His screams and shouts fueled Harry’s anger. He had brought up his mother which only proved to Harry that he didn’t feel one bit remorseful.

“I will ruin you "Harry whispered back to Dimitri in Russian, his voice cold and resolute as he took hold of one of his hands. The room bore witness to the painful, torturous task ahead as Harry embarked on the painstaking process of pulling off each of Dimitri's nails. The chamber echoed with Dimitri's agonized cries, a symphony of suffering orchestrated by the relentless pursuit of revenge.

Amidst Dimitri's agonized cries, the chamber transformed into a chilling tableau of retribution. Harry, unmoved by the torment he inflicted, continued his methodical descent into sadism. The room's atmosphere thickened with tension as each nail was ruthlessly torn away, leaving Dimitri writhing in unbearable pain.

Harry's movements were deliberate, fueled by a potent mix of anger, vengeance, and the haunting memories Dimitri had sought to exploit. The language of retribution spoke through every tortured scream, a visceral manifestation of the vendetta playing out in the dimly lit chamber.

As the gruesome task unfolded, the weight of Dimitri's betrayal echoed through the room. He had ventured into the territory of the family, a realm where loyalty was sacrosanct, and his actions had triggered a cascade of brutal consequences.

The air was charged with the scent of blood and the cacophony of anguish. Harry, unrelenting, continued his merciless pursuit, driven by a determination to extract the full toll for the transgressions committed against his family. The echoes of Dimitri's cries reverberated through the chamber, marking the relentless march of retribution in the heart of the shadows.

“This fucker” Federico muttered under his breath as he rose from his seat once again. The wait for Harry's return had stretched beyond an hour. "How can he keep us waiting?"

Y/N remained silent, wary of uttering words that might incite her father's anger. Her mind, however, couldn't help but wander, envisioning what Harry was currently engaged in and whose fate he was sealing. Having grown up within the mafia, Y/N was no stranger to the methods employed to handle business. From a young age, she had clandestinely listened to her father discussing the gruesome details of his operations.

"Why are you so quiet?" he asked her in Italian. "You've barely said anything since we came."

"I am fine," Y/N responded, her gaze fixed on the backyard of the estate. "I've just been analyzing everything."

"You have to report everything back to me," Federico declared, his eyes scanning the estate's surroundings. "I must know everything that happens within this house." The motive behind agreeing to Y/N's marriage to Harry became clear—Federico sought intel and marrying her off to Harry was the strategic move to have someone on the inside.

As Federico spoke, Y/N nodded subtly, concealing her inner reservations about the web of alliances and deceit that surrounded her. The weight of her dual role—Harry's wife and her father's informant—pressed upon her, creating a delicate balance she had to maintain.

Federico's watchful eyes turned back to Y/N, a stern expression etched on his face. "Your role is crucial," he emphasized. "We need to know Harry's every move. The success of our family depends on it.”

Y/N nodded again, her gaze flickering toward the entrance as anticipation built. The door creaked open, and Harry stepped into the room. His demeanor was composed, betraying nothing of the tumultuous affairs that had transpired in his absence

"You're still here," Harry pointed out as he strode into his office, taking a seat behind his desk.

"Is everything alright?" Federico inquired, his curiosity evident. He wanted to understand what had caused the delay.

"He won't be a problem anymore," Harry replied succinctly, weariness evident in his voice. "Is there anything else pending?" His desire for a drink and a moment of respite was palpable. The mention of his late mother had taken an emotional toll, a vulnerability that he seldom allowed to surface. She didn’t deserve what had been done to her. She was an angel among all the devils.

Y/N observed the change in Harry's appearance—different suit, bruised knuckles, slightly damp hair, and flattened curls. Something had transpired, and she couldn't help but wonder about the details.

"Just determining where the wedding will take place. I personally think it should be in Italy, at our home," Federico suggested. However, Harry shook his head, instantly dismissing the idea. He wasn't about to lead his men into a foreign country, into the lion's den, even if they were allies. Harry knew better than to underestimate potential risks.

"Here is best. Safer," Harry asserted, leaving no room for debate. The location of his wedding wasn't up for negotiation with Federico. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of." With that, Harry signaled the end of the conversation, his focus already shifting to the matters that awaited his attention.

Federico stormed out of the door, visibly irritated by the dismissal of his suggestions. Y/N discreetly rose from her seat, feeling the weight of Harry's intense gaze on her.

Lex wasted no time entering the office once the Italians had departed. "How was that? When are you getting married?" he inquired, adding with a smirk, "She's not ugly."

"In a month," Harry revealed, a sardonic laugh escaping him at the absurdity of Federico's proposal. "Federico wanted us to have it in Italy."

"Fucker," Lex chuckled. "What are we doing with the Russians?"

"I think we should send them back a gift, don't you think?" Harry suggested, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He looked up at Lex, who nodded in understanding. "Send back what they sent," Harry instructed. Lex acknowledged the order and said, "Take care of that and let me know when the package is ready." The plan was set in motion, the wheels of retribution silently turning in the shadows.

Lex nodded, acknowledging Harry's directive. "Consider it done." he affirmed, a steely determination in his eyes.

Harry lingered in his office for a few more hours, seeking solace amidst the familiar surroundings. Pouring a glass of whiskey and lighting a cigarette, he settled into his seat, attempting to find a moment of respite. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos, and though the desire for rest weighed heavily on him, the pressing tasks ahead refused to be ignored.

The dim glow of the office cast a reflective ambiance as Harry contemplated the intricate web of responsibilities that now rested on his shoulders. Each sip of whiskey brought a momentary warmth, and the tendrils of smoke from his cigarette curled lazily in the air.

With a few more meetings lingering on the horizon, the dimly lit corridors of the English manor buzzed with the hushed conversations of individuals seeking Harry's favor. The air was thick with the weight of their requests, each plea underlined by an unspoken acknowledgment of the shifting dynamics within the English mafia. These were more than routine meetings; they were symbolic gestures of allegiance, a testament to Harry's emerging reign and the challenges that lay ahead.

As the last petitioner departed, their gratitude hanging in the air, Harry emerged from his office. The room behind him held the scent of aged leather and the echoes of decisions made, a silent witness to the myriad responsibilities he bore as the new don.

Intent on locating Charlie to discuss matters of importance, Harry's purposeful stride led him to the foyer. There, amidst the surroundings, he unexpectedly discovered her presence. YN sat on an intricately patterned rug, her form a stark contrast to the grandeur that surrounded her. Two suitcases, well-worn and marked by the passage of time, stood sentinel by her side.

"What are you still doing here?" Harry's voice echoed through the space, genuine surprise etched on his face as he beheld the unexpected scene. His eyes, sharp and discerning, sought answers. "Where is Federico?" The inquiry hung in the air, anticipation threading through the atmosphere like a subtle current, as the layers of loyalty, alliances, and unspoken tensions played out in the grand foyer of the manor.

chapter 5

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren 2.0 #1

Masterpost

Next

Warnings: implied past non-con, blood

Silas strolled through the markets. He didn’t venture out into human areas often, except to hunt, and these streets were largely unfamiliar to him.

The market was flooded with smells and scents foreign to him. There was all sorts of human food stalls, and some of them intrigued him. But there was no point in wasting money on things he could only taste and would make him nauseous later. Besides, that wasn’t what he was here for.

Silas went deeper into the crowds, breathing in deep. The scent of human despair grew strong with every step, and at the end of the trail would be his goal.

Vampires did not keep slaves. It was a point of pride that they hunted every night; a valued skill to be able to rule the streets and feed a nest without a single death.

But Silas lived by himself, and in the shadow of a much bigger nest of vampires, ever since his father had exiled him.

His territory was tiny, as to not offend their generosity, and he was tired of being so utterly alone. A companion that could talk and think would be welcome; almost like he had a home den again.

Regular meals would also be nice. A single human could supply him easily without putting him in the sights of the ruling nest.

And he’d be rescuing the human from slavery, treating them well like their masters didn’t. Surely that would be a handsome enough reward for their blood. Merciful, even.

Three birds, one stone.

He pinpointed the slavehouse by scent before he saw it. Despair and dread filtered towards him, as strong as any rancid perfume. It was a disturbing smell, one that made his stomach flip with anxiety.

The building was large, and sounded busy. Chatter and the sound of iron against stone reached his ears. 

A salesperson met him at the door, smiling at first, and then his face fell when he saw Silas’s eyes.

No human had slit pupils.

“Hello, sir! What can I help you with today?” Silas smiled at him, as was polite, and the salesman shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m looking for a companion,” he said quietly, trying to make up for frightening him.

“Certainly, any gender preferences?” Silas hadn’t thought of that. In all his research about caring for a human, he didn’t consider gender. Maybe he’d relate more to a man?

“A man, please.”

“Right this way, sir.” The salesman led him through the warehouse, passing by rows of chained slaves. They seemed organized by category of work, then sex. Interesting.

“Forgive me,” said the man, “but I wasn’t aware vampires had slaves. I don’t mean to imply anything untoward of course.”

“We don’t.”

“I see. Well, here is our lovely collection of bedfellows. I’m sure one will be to your taste- er, preference.” 

Silas’s stomach turned icy. He hadn’t meant sexual companionship. He scanned the row of slaves, all of them chained to the floor by the ankle. They looked miserable. The smell of fear was at its peak here in this awful section.

Now that he thought about it, maybe this was for the best. One less person stuck in sexual slavery. 

Now who would he buy?

Slowly, he made his way down the line of men. They all had different appearances, clearly meant to “appeal” to different people. But it didn’t matter how they looked, Silas was interested in the scent of their blood. It was only fair, he couldn’t buy all of them. 

Even if he still had access to his father’s money, he couldn’t afford it.

___________________

This buyer looked different. Strange. He couldn’t place it until he saw the flash of the man’s fangs. A vampire. 

He’d never heard of a vampire owning anybody. It was usually catch-and-release, right?

The vampire wasn’t looking at them quite like a regular buyer. It was a good moment before he realized the vampire was smelling them.

He shuddered, and the vampire’s gaze turned on him.

___________________

None of them smelled particularly appealing, until he came to the end of the row. This one was small and looked tired. 

Poor thing.

But he smelled delightful, and Silas was interested. However, there was only one way to be sure he tasted as good as he smelled.

He bent down and murmured to the slave. “Just relax. This won’t hurt, I promise.”

The slave looked up at him, his honey-brown eyes wide.

“Would you mind if I took a sample?” The salesperson looked nervous at the request. “Just a taste,” he reassured him. “Not even an ounce.”

The salesman nodded, too terrified to refuse.

___________________

Oh god. The vampire was going to drink from him. 

Please don’t let it hurt. Please, god. 

The vampire cupped his cheek and gently but firmly tilted his head to expose his neck. He screwed his eyes shut.

“Relax,” said the vampire, and he tried his best to obey him. The vampire kissed his neck, a mere brush of his soft lips, and he felt a strange tingling sensation on the little patch of skin. Venom, probably.

He felt the vampire’s cool breath, and then a slight scrape of what was surely the tips of his fangs.

But instead of a stabbing pain, he only felt a mild pressure. A slight tug and some trickling warmth told him he had, in fact, been bitten. 

He gasped as the blood left him, his heart pounding as the vampire swallowed it down.

The vampire pulled away after a moment, licking his lips, and he tried not to flinch at the sight of red on the man’s mouth.

___________________

His blood was even better than Silas could have guessed. Deep and rich, with a hint of sweetness. Utterly delicious.

And if this was how good he was mistreated, how amazing would he be healthy?

He wiped away the excess drops from the slave’s neck, licking them off his thumb. He stood.

“I’ll take this one.”

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone @paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @fanastyfinder @extemporary-whump @susiequaz12 @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @the-cyrulik @morning-star-whump @writereleaserepeat @annablogsposts @tobiaslut

[writergracethepanda]

Would the SS men be good damsels in distressed?

Orion- Yes. He literally had a dead wife montage.

Silas- obviously. He is the Buttercup to Phoebe's Wesley.

Oliver- You wouldn't think he's a damsel in distress, but he is consistently a damsel in distress because of his own decisions. Celia is fucking tired of it have some impulse control man

Roma- Not usually, but definitely when he's drunk. Juliette will make fun of him for being Russian, of course.

Benedikt- He's not one because he tries to avoid it (besides when he was grieving Marshall and Marshall was being his invisible savior obvi <3)

Marshall- Marshall is the least likely to be a damsel in distress, but the most likely to act like one.

[ashen-char]

together pt.1/?

ship: river (all souls) x gender neutral reader

warnings: vague mentions of drug dealing bc of canon i suppose

summary: river has some financial troubles. you want to help.

word count: 800+

You're resting on River's worn-out sofa bed, like you do whenever you come over. River's place is a single bedroom and her baby comes first - Jade is already sleeping soundly in the bedroom. And you can ignore the springs digging into your back if it means River's laying beside you every night.

But right now, she's busy. River is counting crumpled bills at her dining table, sitting on a metal folding chair that's always been uncomfortable. A little from the dealings she runs, a little more for helping the cops, and the shitty tips from her diner job.

Her being a police informant is too dangerous for your liking. Especially with how it wraps River up in Silas's world again. River agreed with you every time you two talked about it but, in her words, what the hell can she do? She needs the money to keep the lights on, to keep her girl fed, needs Jade to be able to stay miles away from the shitshow that is her life. And, River added, the more she helps the police the closer that scum gets off the streets.

"Damn," River whispers to herself as she counts the final bill. "Barely enough to keep the lights on." But you hear her, and you can see that wrinkle between her brows. She's stressed - mind already whirring about how to make her paycheck stretch for the week. Your girl takes on way too much by herself.

"Hey," you say. You get up from the sofa and make your way over to her, sliding an arm across River's shoulders.

"Mm," she murmurs back in acknowledgement. River lifts her head up so that your lips graze against the tattoo on her neck. "Sorry, it's just-" she sighs, "a lot. But I'll figure something out. I always do."

"No, no. I'll pitch in." You don't say it like an offer, knowing that River's pride would make her refuse, but as a statement. You'd take care of her. You'd take care of them both if she let you.

River has been independent since she was a kid, practically, so young when she had Jade. She had dropped out and had taken whatever jobs she could, and after her mom passed River has been doing it virtually alone. Learning that it's alright to depend on you has been a struggle for her.

River pauses. "You sure?" You've offered before, and River always turned it down. It's your money, she'd tell you. The fact that she doesn't refuse immediately tells you that she's more comfortable relying on you already. It warms your heart.

The answer's easy. You don't hesitate to say "of course", leaning down to kiss her again.

It's slow and a little sweet, the tang from the Monster she just downed hitting your lips. Your tongue darts out to lick it away and River makes this cute little noise at the back of her throat. The pressure of River's kiss is like a soothing balm. When she pulls away, though, you can see that the money problems are still on her mind.

Leaning her head on your shoulder, she sets down the bills she was tallying and rubs her tired eyes. It's a mix of emotions. Gratitude for the roof over their heads, frustration at the unending struggle to make ends meet. And above all, River has determination to provide a better life for her daughter. She knows accepting this offer would be for the best. And she trusts you. 

"Alright. But I don't really know what to let you help with," River admits. She already has enough, if barely, to cover the bills. With a little more pocket change from you, she could actually have some savings for a rainy day. You two wouldn't have to sleep every night on a sofa she found off the side of the road.

"I dunno. Anything," you say.

River looks over her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. The coffee table has cigarette burns and crayon scribbles. Toys are strewn all over the floor but the walls are empty, save for Jade's drawings. The cabinets never close properly. There's only two chairs at the dining table. That was enough for when it was just the two of them, but with you around... maybe River can dream of sharing meals together as a family. You'd stick around for breakfast instead of slipping out before Jade wakes up.

"You think we can get a little something to make the place more homey?" she asks. "I think I'd like that."

You grip her tighter, whispering promises against River's skin. Dreaming for more is hard in a world like this. But you hope against hope that you being around will make River see that it's alright. That dreams can come true.

You hold her close, surrounded by the faint scent of her perfume and the quiet hum of the city outside. "I'd love to. We'll make it happen," you whisper. You'll make anywhere home as long as you're by each other's sides. "Together."

pt. 2 is here!