#<- it's about fifty fifty at this point that i won't be keeping that name

[steddie-there]

Just another bit of my Steddie wip Holding Out for a Hero (ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice). It rapidly got away from me, as this particular story has been wont to do 😅 (over 18,000 words and counting!)

Eddie’s curled up on the couch in the living room, afternoon sunlight slanting warm across his shoulders and onto the notebook on his lap. He’s sketching a new tattoo design, a baseball bat studded with nails surrounded by winding vines and a fucked up monster bat. Steve’s quiet steps shuffle into the room and Eddie raises his cheek for a kiss but doesn’t look up from his work. There’s a moment of nothing and Eddie smirks, knowing Steve is rolling his eyes, but then he feels the press of lips against his skin and he sighs happily.

Steve settles next to him on the couch and it’s quiet for a while.

“Hey, Eds, I, uh, I have something for you.” There’s something about the way Steve says it, the uncharacteristic nervousness, that has Eddie tearing his eyes from his notebook and focusing on his boyfriend.

Steve is holding his hand out toward him, fist clasped tightly around something Eddie can’t see. He tilts his head sideways, studying the outstretched hand before he meets Steve’s eyes, questioning.

“Oh, come on, just hold out your hand. It’s not anything weird, I promise,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, any hint of nerves gone now.

Eddie has to bite back a giggle because, out of the two of them, Steve is not the one who drops weird things into people’s hands. No, that would be Eddie. Like two days ago, when he caught and handed Steve a tiny frog while they were walking through the woods behind Loch Nora. Or the leaf with a ladybug crawling across it a few days before that.

So he holds out his hand, palm up, and blinks when something silvery plinks into it. Then blinks again as he stares at the item now resting in his palm. His eyes widen.

It’s a ring. A class ring. Steve’s class ring.

Eddie blinks. Blinks again. The inside of his chest has gone all fluttery and his breath hitches a little and, as usual, the soft squeeze to his heart melts the connection between his brain and his mouth.

“Isn’t it a little early in our relationship for rings, Stevie?”

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it. “I - no, that’s - that’s not what I - I just wanted you to have something of mine! I thought, you know, this might - work. The best. With your - your style,” he babbles, gesturing to Eddie’s multitude of rings.

There’s that squeeze to his heart again. Not just because of the gift and the thought that went into it, but because a flustered Steve is an adorable Steve. And a very teaseable Steve.

“Why, Steve Harrington, are you asking me to go steady?” Eddie asks, mischief in his tone as he bats his eyes playfully up at Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve splutters, blush spreading up his cheeks. “You know what, never mind, I’ll just take it back, clearly this was a bad - “ he reaches for the ring as he speaks, but Eddie clutches it to his chest possessively.

“Nope, this is mine now. No take backs. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”

It has the desired effect of making Steve snort a laugh and murmur, “That’s why I gave it to you, ya dork,” as he runs a hand through his hair.

They’re quiet for a moment, Eddie turning the ring this way and that, admiring the way the clear stone set in the middle catches the light, Steve watching and pretending he isn’t still feeling a little self-conscious.

Finally, Eddie glances up at Steve from under his lashes. “Put it on me?” he asks, uncharacteristically shy, as he tentatively holds out the ring.

Steve smiles, the one that lights up his whole face, that makes Eddie feel like he’s looking directly into the sun. He takes the ring and Eddie’s right hand and slips the band onto the middle finger. Then he brings Eddie’s hand to his lips, presses a kiss to the ring, and oh Eddie might actually combust now.

He tugs a lock of hair over his mouth, trying to hide the blush he can feel rising up his neck. But Steve just grins knowingly. With one last, lingering press of his lips to Eddie's hand, he drops it in favor of gently tucking Eddie's riot of curls behind his ears, even the one he's trying to hide behind.

"There you are," he murmurs, eyes locked with Eddie's. He gently cups Eddie's cheeks, runs his thumbs across the skin under his eyes like there’s something precious there, like Eddie is something precious. And all Eddie can do is stare into those honeyed eyes, his lips parted and heartbeat kicking up more than a few notches.

Steve’s grin turns soft and he presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s lips before leaning their foreheads together. Eddie’s eyes slip closed, needing that illusory barrier to settle his jumping pulse. It still all feels so new, is so new, but that’s not what has his breath catching in his throat. Because, despite the newness and despite the fact that it is still totally incomprehensible that Steve wants Eddie, of all people, he can’t deny how right it feels to sit so close to Steve that their breath is mingling and their hearts are beating in sync.

For just a moment, Eddie can see them in his mind’s eye, sitting exactly like this - but they’re older, gray in their hair, crow’s feet at the corners of their eyes, and laugh lines framing their mouths - and he wants so desperately that he doesn’t even think before he’s pulling back, hands going up to his neck.

Steve frowns, a question forming on his lips, but then Eddie is yanking the chain with his guitar pick over his head and holding it out to Steve. He swallows, takes a breath. “I want you to have something, too. Something of mine.” Something of me, he doesn’t say, but it’s there between them anyway.

And now it’s Steve’s turn to just stare for a moment, for his breath to stutter in his chest. He gingerly takes the pick from Eddie’s fingers, holding it like it’s made of crystal and not just plastic, and slips the chain over his own head. 

“This is the one that you used in -” he starts to ask, voice hushed.

“In the Upside Down, yeah,” Eddie answers, just as softly.

With quiet reverence, Steve runs his fingers along the smooth edge, then just brings the pick up to his lips and holds it there for a moment, his eyes distant.

That squeezing sensation seems to have taken up permanent residence in Eddie’s chest. He can’t take his eyes from Steve and he knows if he opens his mouth now, he’ll say something wrong or crazy or too soon, too fast. Something like I love you or marry me or I wish I could climb inside you and live there forever. But he’s also terrible at stopping himself from doing anything, so he opens his mouth

and laughs.

Immediately, he claps his hands over his mouth because he didn’t mean to do that, it’s precisely the wrong reaction to the most romantic moment he’s ever experienced in his entire life. Even saying “I love you” would have been better than this. Because he’s laughing and Steve is looking up at him with a flash of something in his eyes and his shoulders are shaking and oh dear god, I’ve completely fucked this up, haven’t I? and if he could bury himself in the couch cushions he would, because he cannot handle the hurt he knows he’ll see in every line of Steve’s body, because Steve is… Steve is laughing, too.

Steve is laughing, too?

Eddie stares at the other boy, at his mouth stretched wide around his laughter, his face lit up with relief and mirth and joy and love and sheer astonishment - all the emotions Eddie feels swirling in his own burst of laughter. And then he’s laughing again, too, and they’re leaning into each other, giggles spilling past their lips even as they press them together and cling to each other’s shoulders to stay upright.

They laugh until their stomachs hurt and then keep laughing, quiet giggles escaping every so often as they kiss and hold and breathe each other in. They’re so immersed that they don’t even hear the front door open or Robin’s voice calling to them from the entryway. They don’t notice her step into the room and stop and stare at the manic picture they make. They have absolutely no clue she’s even there until she says, “Hold up, are you two high?”

They look up at her, blinking like deer in the headlights, before Steve catches Eddie’s eye and they dissolve back into gales of laughter.

“You two are so weird,” Robin mutters, dropping her bag on the coffee table and heading for the kitchen. If she has to deal with them the way they are right now, she needs a snack.

[fvllingflower]

Tell Me

pairing: college!wonwoo, f!reader

genre: smut

warning: party, cursing, fingering (f!rec.), protected sex, hickeys, hair pulling, & aftercare.

song recommendation: tell me by fifty fifty

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You didn't even know why you were here or how your friends dragged to this party, but here you were. As you and Yoohyeon were walking to find Siyeon and Bora, you felt like every guy there staring at you. You two found the other two girls.

"Ooh who is this hottie," Siyeon smirked as she looked me up and down.

"I know right, she looks so hot," Yoohyeon smiled. Yoohyeon was the one to dress you in this short black dress, that was revealing of your cleavage and wearing black heels.

"The guys keep staring at me," You mumbled.

"Yeah cause you're fine as hell," Bora hyped you up. The girls knew you weren't comfortable with parties but they wanted you to get out your comfort zone for once.

"I heard that guy you find hot from our literature class is here," Yoohyeon informed you.

"Really?" You asked surprised.

"Apparently he's friends with the party host and he was also dragged here," Siyeon smiled.

"You should go find him and flirt with him," Bora hit your arm.

"You know that's not a good idea," You looked at here sternly. She nodded.

"Oh look there he is," Siyeon pointed out. He was walking behind you, you guess to his friend. You turned your head and saw. Shit he was wearing black button up with two buttons undone and black pants.

"Mingyu there's apparently like a new girl here, and she's hot," Vernon hit his arm. Wonwoo walked over to them.

"Can I go home now?" Wonwoo asked.

"No, you need to loosen up, you're always in that damn room reading, you need to have fun," Mingyu wrapped his arm onto his shoulder.

"Reading is fun," Wonwoo looked at him.

"Just at least get laid or something," Mingyu groaned.

"He could try the new girl," Vernon suggested.

"New girl?" Wonwoo asked.

"Yeah, I'll go find her for you," Vernon smiled. Vernon walked off to find you.

"Fine if you won't stop bugging me about it, I'll go try and talk to him," You sighed. The girls were cheering you on as you walked off. You were walking past Vernon when he suddenly stopped.

"Vernon what the hell?" You looked at surprised.

"You know my name?" He asked.

"Yes! We're literally music partners," You answered. Is he losing his memory?

"Y/N?!" He shouted surprised.

"Yeah," You nodded, confused by his actions.

"You're the new hot girl!" He covered his mouth.

"Do I really look that different dressed up?" You asked.

"The more I look at you, no you don't," He replied. Wonwoo and Mingyu walked over to you.

"Vernon is that the new girl?" Mingyu asked as he checked you out.

"Well yeah but no... it's Y/N she's just dressed up," Vernon answered truthfully.

"You guys are stupid," You sighed and Wonwoo laughed at your comment.

"They really are," Wonwoo smiled. The guys noticed you two were connecting and decided to walk off.

"Do you wanna go some more quiet?" Wonwoo asked and you nodded. He took your hand and lead you up the stairs to his room.

"It's quieter up here," He smiled as he locked the door so no horn dog would interrupt you two talking.

"I feel like I've seen you before on campus," Wonwoo smiled as he sat on the bed next to you.

"We're in the same literature class, so maybe that's where," You answered.

"Mhm maybe so," He smiled at you. He looked down and noticed you were in heels.

"You're in heels, your feet must be dying," He pointed out.

"Yeah especially since I've been standing," You nodded. He got on his knees on the floor and helped take your shoes off.

"Oh— thank you," You were trying not to blush.

"Of course," He also took his shoes off and then sat down next to you again. You two just started talking about anything and everything. You felt a source of comfort in him.

"During class one day, you should sit next to me," He smiled.

"Why would you want me to sit next to you?" You asked.

"Cause we seem to have great chemistry and you're really pretty," He spoke truthfully which stunned you.

"Jeon Wonwoo finds me pretty?" You smiled widely. He nodded.

"So pretty," He leaned in and kissed you. His lips were soft, you weren't expecting him to be such a great kisser but I guess you learn something new everyday. You were quick to climb into his lap as you two sinken the kiss. He finally pulled away and just looked at you.

"If you aren't comfortable with anything I do, tell me," He whispered and you nodded.

"Shit Jeon kiss me!" You pulled him back into a heated kiss. His hands held your waist. His kisses started to travel down your jawline to your neck to your collarbone and to your cleavage. His hand traveled your thigh and he was just massaging the flesh. You pushed him back against the bed and you got up and stripped your dress off, leaving you in your bra and underwear. You climbed back onto him and started unbuttoning his shirt. Who knew your little nerd crush was so fit. You started kissing down his chest and you decided to start nipping on his skin. You left a hickey in the crook of his neck and you continued your process.

"Do I belong to you?" He teased. He sat up and you two started making out again. His hand went down and pulled your panties aside for his fingers. He pushed his two of his fingers into your hole making you moan into his mouth.

"You like that?" He whispered and all you did was whimper as he started to fuck you with two fingers. He started thrusting his fingers fast. Your hand was quick to find his hair and grip it. Your other hand was clawing into his back. He suddenly added a third finger, stretching you out some more for him. You tossed your head back at the pleasure he was giving you. It didn't take long for you to snap. He pulled his fingers out and scooped up some of your orgasm and licked it off his fingers, looking straight into your eyes as he did so. He pulled you back into a deep kiss and laid you back onto his bed. He got up and started to strip.

"Baby can you do something for me?" He asked sweetly. You hummed in response.

"Can you strip completely naked for me," He smiled as he pulled his pants off. You sat up and unhooked your bra and threw it off the bed and then you lifted your hips to pull your underwear off. He pulled his underwear off to reveal his dick. Sure you've had fantasies of him but you always imagined for him to be average but you were wrong. He was big and thick and veiny in the right ways. He went to his nightstand and pulled out a sliver square. He ripped it open and slid it on himself.

"God you look so beautiful," He climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately. He started rubbing his dick between your folds which caused you to whine.

"You like that baby?" He smirked.

"God Jeon just fuck me," You whined.

"What's the magic word?" He asked.

"Please Wonwoo fuck me," You cried. He lined himself up and slowly pushed his cock inside of you. The stretch was delicious, it had you moaning so slowly. He made sure to be balls deep before letting you adjust. As you adjusted, he was peppering your collarbone with kisses. You tapped his shoulder and he started thrusting. He started slowly and quickly started to speed up. You wrapped your legs around his waist to feel all of him. You swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was hitting all the right places that made you a moaning mess.

"Fuck Wonwoo," You almost screamed. You were so glad the music was loud so that no one could hear how loud you were being. Your hands were in his hair and his hands were on either side of your head. You started to clench around him to let him know you're close.

"You gonna cum for me?" He whispered against your neck. All you did was whine. He took that as a yes and he thrusted even rougher. One of his hands as he thrusted, played with your boob. He was pinching your nipple and squeezing the mound that fit perfectly in his hand. Your legs started to tremble and with that you reached your climax. He continued thrusting until he came, filling up the rubber. He pulled out and laid beside you. You two were just panting. Once he calmed down, he got up and threw the condom away. He walked into his bathroom and came back with a wash cloth.

"Baby I'm going to clean you up," He warned you before putting the cloth against your folds. He wiped up any extra cum that escaped you. Once he was done he threw the cloth into his laundry basket.

"I should probably get home," You sat up. He looked at you with pouted lips.

"I think it's best you stay here tonight," He protested.

"It's late, you're tired, I'm tired, and I don't want some creep to hurt you," He stated. You just smiled softly.

"Fine, I'll sleep here, but can get some clothes at least," He widened his eyes in panic and he handed you his button up.

"Do you wanna sleep in this?" He asked nervously.

"Sure it looks soft," You pecked his cheek and took the shirt from him. You buttoned the shirt up and put you panties back on.

"You look so cute in my shirt," He smiled and hugged your waist.

"I'm glad you think so," You giggled. He placed a kiss on your cheek and then went to put on a shirt and shorts. He climbed into bed with you and cuddled you. You rested your head on his chest and one leg on top of him which made him smile.

The next morning you woke up due the sun hitting your eyes. You looked over and saw Wonwoo still asleep. As he slept peacefully you played with his hand. You saw him smile suddenly, knowing you woke him up. He locked his hand with yours and opened his eyes.

"You like my hands or something?" He teased.

"Sorry, I didn't know what else to do," You smiled. He grabbed you by your chin and pulled you in for a kiss.

"It's okay baby," He smiled. He sat up and sniffed for something.

"Come on, I think Mingyu is making breakfast," He grabbed your hands to pull you out of bed.

"I'll be there in a minute I need to use the bathroom real quick," You let go of his hands and walked to his bathroom.

Wonwoo got downstairs and saw Mingyu cooking breakfast as he suspected. Seungcheol and Vernon were also there waiting for breakfast.

"Hey Woo how was you night?" Vernon asked.

"It was good actually, real good," Wonwoo smiled to himself.

"You two seemed to be hitting it off but after a while you two disappeared," Mingyu pointed out.

"We went up to my room to talk, it was hard to hear over the music," Wonwoo admitted.

"Nothing else happened?" Cheol smirked. Suddenly you walked downstairs and walked into the kitchen.

"Oh hi guys," You smiled awkwardly.

"So something did happened last night," Vernon smiled.

"Oh Y/N I didn't know you were here still... I didn't make enough breakfast for you, my bad," Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's fine, I'll just eat something when I go home," You smiled kindly.

"We can share my food, I don't care," Wonwoo offered and you just waved him off.

"It's fine, I'll be upstairs if you need me," You pecked his cheek and went back upstairs. You went to your purse and pulled your phone out. Shit ten messages from Yoohyeon..

>Y/N where are you?

>Are you okay?

>I'm worried, answer me as soon as possible!

>Are you with Wonwoo?

>You have to tell me about it!

>Y/N!!!!!

>Bitch answer me!

>Wonwoo better not be a murderer or something.

>ANSWER ME!

>We're leaving the party, please text me as soon as possible so ik you're okay! I love you<3

You decided to message her back. Now is better than later. You felt bad for making her worry.

<Yoo I'm okay! I was with Wonwoo last night, talking about shit and then we ended up fucking so.... I have sm to tell you in person! Anyways sorry for making you worry but I'm okay, he's not a killer! I love you too<3

You crawled back into his bed and was watching videos on your phone. You suddenly heard a knock on the door and it was Wonwoo. You were slightly confused why he would knock to enter his own room but whatever. He opened the door and in his hands was food.

"I made you some food, it might not be the best since I'm not the greatest at cooking but I tried," He handed you the plate. You took a bite out of it and your eyes widened.

"Wonwoo this is good, what the fuck?" You praised him and he smiled.

"I'm glad you like them, the guys are teasing me over this but it's worth it if you're happy," He got in the bed next to you. You fed him a piece of the food and he nodded.

"Damn I did do a good job," He sounded surprised. You finished eating and you were about to get up to clean the dish but Wonwok stopped you.

"Here let me do it," He grabbed the plate. He went downstairs to clean the plate. Damn is really this down bad for you or are you tripping? He came back to you and kissed your cheek.

"I'm going to go shower and then I'm gonna go home, okay?" You stood up and he pouted.

"Fine, but can I ask you a question?" He asked and you nodded.

"Can I take you out on a date next Saturday?" He asked and you smiled widely.

"Yes, I would like that," You walked towards him and kissed his lips softly.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N; thank you for all the love that I've been receiving for my stories lately! I'll try to upload more in the future. I hope you enjoyed this one, and I'm deciding of I want to do a part two for this or not <3

[withahappyrefrain]

Okay but I’d love to talk mob Peter and model on his yacht where he is supposed to be on vacation but keeps having to do work which leads to his girl getting bored/ finding ways to get him to focus on her and like at this point peter is no longer nervous and bad at dating he’s pissed and someone’s getting fcuked on a deck

YES also this got away from me whoops

When Peter said he would be on vacation, it really means he would be working only fifty percent of the time.

It's better than the whole time. And it certainly wouldn't be difficult to lure him away with a skimpy bikini, with promises of hot tubs and cocktails.

At least, so one thought.

The skimpy bikinis were becoming more beneficial for even tanning rather than seducing Peter.

Apparently vacation time is the best time for everything at work to go to shit.

It makes sense that Peter is the go to person. He's in charge, which means they want his approval before making a decision.

But why did it have to take thirty to forty five minutes for a damn decision to be approved?

It doesn't help that they were having such a lovely time out on the deck before his phone rang, his mouth exploring yours, hands about to discover that there was nothing underneath that cute little sundress you had on.

It has been twenty minutes past too long since he answered the phone.

Which left you no choice but to take matters into your own hands.

You flipped over onto your stomach, the action causing the hem of your dress to rise past your thighs.

Peter saw, given by the way he raised an eyebrow. For a moment, his eyes were fixated on you, on your body. But then someone calls his name over the phone, and he's back to talking to Felicia.

That just won't do.

So you prop yourself up on your knees and elbows, arching your back enough for the hem of your dress to slide closer to your waist, giving Peter a generous glimpse of your ass, revealing the surprise you had planned for him.

When you looked back, his eyes, now dark, were fixated on you. His free hand was running along his beard, up and down his freckled neck, a nervous habit he displayed ever since your first date. Long fingers danced along the silver chain you loved to pull on.

He holds his hand up, fingers spread as he mouths "five minutes" to you.

But that seems like an eternity.

You truly didn't mean to moan so loudly when your fingers found your clit. They weren't as thick or calloused as Peter's, but feeling something after going untouched this whole morning felt incredible.

It's so good that you don't hear Peter abruptly and gruffly hanging up. You don't hear him unzip his pants or reach for the bottle of lube.

When you do feel, is his cock slamming into you, a hand grabbing both of yours and holding them by your wrists.

"You little slut, just couldn't fucking wait," He hisses, slamming into you, ignoring your cries of pleasure.

"N-No. Needed it s'bad," you whine, unashamed.

His cock makes you feel so full, makes your toes curl, makes you unable to focus on anything other than how fucking good he makes you feel.

"Yeah, I can tell. Showing off your cunt to me and everyone else who's sailing by," He grunts, his tough facade almost faltering when your walls squeeze his cock so well.

"T-took s'long. Couldn't help it." It's really a miracle you're able to speak somewhat coherently, considering the way Peter's rutting into you, his fingers drawing circles on your aching clit.

"Oh? Now it's my fault you just couldn't wait five minutes?" His fingers are moving with precision, "Let's see if I can beat my personal record of making this cunt come over my cock.'

[morose-melodies]

Good day to you! Can you write for Pantalone, Dottore, Capitano and Pierro with a reader who doesn’t know who the hell they are? Maybe like the reader who doesn’t know what Harbingers are? Can you make the reader chubby? Please? Thank you for your kindness!

oblivion | yandere !fatui harbingers x reader

content warning: reader almost drowns (dottore's part) graphic detail (capitano's part)

I hope this is good :) also sorry for taking so long!

pantalone

"pantalone... I need your help again."

pantalone smiled at you, as you walked into his room, dragging your feet across the ground and he already knew what you were going to ask.

the way you stood said everything. the way your arms wrapped around your body. the way you blew air into your cubby cheeks.

you were financially dependent on him, it never bothered him when you asked for mora, it never bothered him when you asked him to buy you something because you grew up in poverty just like him.

"I just need ten thousand mora..." you mumbled, nervously, thinking that one day he'd say no, but that would never happen, pantalone made it his mission to always make you happy and comfortable.

it was hard to keep you comfortable at times. always having to travel, being away from you for weeks at a time, pantalone didn't leave snezhnaya much but when he did, it gained complaints and questions.

questions about his job.

his job that he made such an effort to hide from you. he wanted you to be happy, carefree, and comfortable, he never wanted you to worry, no about him or his job.

so he'd usually answer your questions with a question, it would go something like this;

"where are you going now? is it another business trip?"

"yes. is there anything I could help you with before I go."

or something like this;

"why won't you tell me what your job is."

"(y/n), i am a banker. why do you continue to ask?"

his answers never satisfied you, but you soon gave up asking and just accepted them. you accepted that he'd never tell you the complete truth.

"merely ten thousand? what do you plan to buy with that? a sweet flower? or perhaps fowl?"

you parted your lips but hesitated to speak, "it's a surprise."

he raised his brows, surprise evident on his features, "a surprise for who, exactly?"

you lifted your hand and pointed at him.

"oh? what a pleasant surprise. if ten thousand mora is all you need, then who am i to judge," he smiled, his mind roaming off to what his 'surprise' could be.

later that day, when he was lending you the mora you asked for, instead of ten thousand, he gave fifty thousand, hoping it would keep you satisfied for a while.

dottore

"zandik... is this legal?"

"no," he replied, his hand tightly gripping your wrist, "we must act with haste. I do not wish to become lunch to these monsters."

he tugged you forwards, gently bringing you to stand closely beside him.

in front of the two of you, was a large river, a fast-moving river infested with spinocrocodiles, across from the river was a ruinguard that dottore - zandik wanted to check out.

zandik was what dottore requested you called him, you were oblivious to the fact that he went by another name.

you were alsk oblivious to the fact that you were in a relationship with a mad man, a fatui harbinger.

hah, you didn't even know what the fatui was. dottore learned that after the fatui was brought up in a few conversations.

he needn't worry about you finding out anytime soon.

you were hesitant to follow after him but zandik told you, "if you are hesitant for even a second you will be ripped to shreds by the spinocrocodiles."

you didn't want that, so remained close to him and tried your hardest to trust him. though it was becoming hard to do.

"you will go into the river first. I will be close behind you, are you ready-"

"ready for what? I... I can't swim very wel-"

you felt a hand press against your back before being shoved with force. you were falling into the river, fear overwhelming your body as your body was engulfed by the water.

you thrashed and scratched at the water, in an attempt to not get dragged down. you screamed and cried for zandik to help you and yet he only watched.

"hel- me! he- help! ple- help me!" you cried, water filling your lungs, your throat burning, and your fear becoming paralyzing when you realized your thrashing had gained the attention of the spinocrocodiles.

you didn't want to die like this.

you didn't want to get torn to shreds.

you didn't want to die.

your cries and screams grew louder as you reached out to zandik once again, "ple- lease! h- help me!"

zandik watched for a few more minutes before you began to go limp, and sink into the water. that's when he reached for you and pulled you out.

dragging you away from the river and spinocrocodiles.

you lay on the ground, motionless for a few seconds before air reached your lungs once again, you gasped, your eyes wide as you looked up at zandik.

zandik's eyes roamed across your body, momentarily as you gathered yourself. he saw the way your shirt stuck to your body, showing off your soft, ample body.

he smiled.

today was a success. he wanted to see how you'd react when almost dying. it was typical, it was what most people would say when experiencing a near-death experience.

you're normal.

nothing special.

but somehow, you were special, to dottore.

capitano

"where are you going?"

you asked, a subtle smile on your face but seconds later your smile dropped and you frowned, when realizing what was happening, "capitano... why don't you just stay home? i-i don't want you to get hurt again."

you didn't understand what happened whenever capitano left and you didn't understand how he get so badly injured in a few weeks.

he'd come back with large, deep wounds across his body by the time he was back. it's upsetting and to top it off, he won't tell you where he'd going or what he's doing.

you stalked behind capitano as he walked towards the front door, his armor and helmet on.

you wrapped your arms around his body and stood firmly on the ground in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

he continued to walk, dragging you along with him, all the way to the front door before he acknowledged you. "I will be back in three weeks. for the time being, I want you to stay at the manor."

"I want you to stay at the manor." you grabbed him even tighter, to the point where your face was tightly pressed against his back.

"you know I can not do that, (y/n). I'll be back as soon as possibl-"

"that's not enough. i don't want you to get hurt anymore!" you cried, your tears dampening the back of his coat and he said to you, "please, (y/n), do not cry. you know it makes me feel terrible."

capitano gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from him before turning you to face him, he placed a hand on your chubby cheek and said, "I will always come back for you, (y/n)."

"there will never be a time where I do not come back."

"just quit your job!" you cried even harder, snot running from your nose, "stop leaving me and stay here! stop getting hurt!"

you turned away from capitano, placing your hands over your eyes, wiping away the tears. "(y/n), it will never be that east. I can not just quit."

you've grown tired of asking about his job. you've given up trying to know what it is. all you can do is hope he comes back safely when he leaves.

capitano placed a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, saying, "I will always come back for you, (y/n)."

pierro

"why don't we go to the marketplace next time?"

you asked, your fingers interlinked with pierro's as the two of you walked down the road in the middle of town.

the two of you were gaining odd looks from civilians and it confused you. "why are they looking at us like that?" you squeezed pierro's hand.

"it isn't bothering you, I hope?" pierro paused, his attention on you as you thought about it before shaking your head, "it doesn't bother me... it's just weird."

"hmm, perhaps they're admiring your beauty?" He tried to disregard it, taking your hand into his and the two of you continued walking.

it was rare that pierro had time to go out with you. it was rare that he went out. many of the civilians must be confused as to why he's out.

he could tell the attention was bothering you when you gave him a tight-lipped smile and lowered your gaze.

you lived a simple life all of your life, nothing about it exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. pierro just so happened to be the opposite of you, in all ways.

you weren't used to the attention and pierro understood that.

"would you like to take a carriage home instead? surly there are far fewer eyes watching in there." pierro asked and you nodded, almost immediately.

so he told you to stay put before approaching the nearest fatui diplomat and requesting that he got the two of you a carriage.

then you waited. the wait wasn't long and soon enough the carriage was there.

you always had a hard time getting into carriages so before you could even struggle, pierro said, "(y/n), allow me to help you."

pierro helped you into the carriage, his fingers gently digging into the ample flesh on your hips. "thank you," you smiled, whilst scooting over to give him space."

on the ride back to the manor, you were silent.

it wasn't odd for you to be silent on rides home, you just loved looking out of the window.

you didn't start riding carriages until you met pierro.

when the two of you met, he never told you was the first fatui harbinger, he assumed you already knew. it's rare to meet people who know nothing of the fatui.

you just so happened to be one of those people. he realized this when having a conversation with you, he mentioned the fatui subtly and you said, "what is that?"

"what?" pierro was confused.

"what is the fatui?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed together.

when he learned that you didn't know of the fatui, he wanted to keep it that way but it was difficult when he had to leave home abruptly for his job and why you started getting upset because he was rarely home.

you questioned him about it, he explained to you, "my job has... odd work hours, that is all there is to know. you needn't worry, (y/n)."

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 27

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: Misogyny, Bullying, Hazing

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019 @rosecentury @wa-ni @secretdream2 @missemrose @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose

A/N: I'm still working on updating my taglist. Unfortunately if your name is crossed out it's because tumblr won't let me tag you.

Masterlist

Day 444

Leah never thought she would be back at Warhorse, much less without Sy. From the moment she crossed the gate it was deja vu. There were shouts coming from the angry crowd outside and cat calls coming from the horny men inside. As far as she was concerned, she was on the most dangerous side of the gate.

“Don’t punch anyone,” Benjie ordered under his breath, keeping his eyes forward. “The boys have mentioned the new Captain is the bottom of the barrel. He sees you react, it’ll be his pleasure to make your life hell while you’re here.”

Leah ground her teeth as she walked by a group of boys making lewd gestures. “I don’t know. I get the feeling my life here will be hell either way. I might as well have the satisfaction that will come from seeing the look on their faces when they get their ass kicked by a girl.”

One of the new boys led them up the stairs to their assigned room. It seemed no one was concerned about giving her a separate space this time. They walked past a few familiar faces, one of which looked from where he was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. Nielsen locked eyes with Leah, giving her nod of acknowledgment.

A nod was better than him going back to torturing her or pretending like she doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe they dragged us all the way here to be fucking glorified delivery drivers.” Jer complained, dumping his bag on his bed. “Aren’t we overqualified for that shit?”

“Apparently they tried to get a couple of army boys to escort the truck. Only two out of five walked out of here on their own two feet. Two were evac’d after their Victor took a hit from a rocket launcher and the other left in a bag after a firefight.”

“Guess I must have missed the day in Spec Ops training where they taught us that we become impervious to rocket launchers,” Ethan mumbled.

He had a point. Calling in an extra team to put more protection on the convoy was one thing, trading one team for another was just sending more lambs out to slaughter. The current team had fucked up and gotten the water pumps blown up. Shouldn’t they get the shitty—and apparently deadly—job of escorting the water tank? Let them put their asses on the line while she and the boys sat around playing poker and ‘guarding’ the base.

Day 445

The next morning, they made their beds before going down to chow. No less than four men popped in to ask Leah if she could ‘be a doll and do theirs once she was done’. She never thought she’d want a guy to defend her honor but she kind of wished Sy was there to put them in their place so that she didn’t have to just grit her teeth and take it.

After a quick breakfast, they went back up to their rooms to gear up for the day.

“What the fuck?” Benjie exclaimed, looking down at his hand which was entirely coated in something thick and red.

“What even is that?” Ethan asked in horror.

Rohan caught Benjie’s wrist, bringing it to his nose for a sniff. “Huh, fifty-seven varieties.”

“Ketchup?” Leah guessed. “They aren’t seriously dumb enough to pull a prank on a nearly senior NCO, are they?”

“Nope,” Jer cut in, “but they are dumb enough to not double check that they got the right bag.” Jer pulled out three pairs of women’s underwear coated in what must have been an entire bottle of ketchup.

Leah didn’t even know how they got their hands on so much ketchup. Or women’s underwear for that matter.

“They got the wrong bag? How? They all saw which bunk was mine.”

“Exactly.”

Leah shared a confused look with Benjie as he attempted to clean himself up with baby wipes. It was then she noticed that her bag was not where she had left it.

“You switched our bags.”

A victorious grin pulled at Jer’s lips. “I think the Captain will be interested in hearing about how disrespectful his boys are being, don’t you?”

Leah had been wrong. Escorting the water tanker was not the worst part of their job. The worst part was waiting for the damn thing to fill. After the Captain spoke with Fuller and agreed to discipline his men—even he couldn’t overlook hazing a staff sergeant—he’d sent them out on their way.

At least on the road their minds were occupied, watching their sectors or the slightest sign of danger. At the water pump there was nothing around for miles. They would see and hear any hostiles coming long before they were a danger to them so she was going absolutely crazy in the meantime.

“I need to take a shit,” Ethan said to no one in particular.

“Now’s as good a time as you’re gonna get. Jer, go keep a lookout.”

“Why does it gotta be me? Why don’t you go watch him drop the kids off at the pool.”

“I’ll go,” Leah volunteered. “I’m going fucking crazy standing still. Rohan, switch with me.” 

Rohan climbed up to take her place while she jumped off the tanker and followed Ethan to the sand dunes, stopping at the top while he went down to the other side. From there, she could see out even further so, after doing a preliminary sweep, she lifted her gun to look into the distance through her scope.

“Something wrong, Coleman?” Benjie asked, probably on high alert from the fact that she had her weapon raised.

“Nah, just wanted to see better!”

“Roger!”

Lowering her weapon, Leah glanced at the rest of the team before turning and looking through her scope in the other direction. A black dot crossed the bottom of her scope, making her pause and look up.

The dot was in the direction of the only road that led up to the water station but there was no dust to indicate that it was a vehicle approaching. Looking back through the scope, it took her a moment to find the dot again, noting that it had gotten a tiny bit closer.

“Alright, I’m ten pounds lighter and no longer at risk of shitting myself on the road. Let’s get back to the tanker.”

Leah didn’t look up from her scope as Ethan climbed the dune, tracking the dot as it slowly got closer.

“Coleman?” Ethan’s voice was more tentative this time.

“Gimme a second.”

“Should I be worried?”

“I can’t tell with the heat haze. Whatever it is, it’s small and far out still so we don’t need to panic.” Yet.

Beside her, Ethan raised his weapon, ready to provide cover fire just in case. Another minute passed and the dot still wasn’t close enough to allow Leah to see it clearly.

“Are you sure it’s moving?”

“Positive.”

“Clean your scope to be sure.”

Part of her was annoyed that Ethan didn’t trust her but she did it anyway. Sure enough, the dot was still there.

“Well, it’s gotta be an animal ‘cause I doubt someone would walk way out here alone.”

Leah dropped her rifle, frowning as she considered Ethan’s words. They were pretty far from Warhorse and the surrounding village. If it was indeed an animal, it was likely wild. “Can you do that really loud whistle people do at concerts?”

“No, but I think Rohan can.”

“Hey Ray!” She waited for him to look over his shoulder at them. “I need you to whistle towards the road! Make it loud!”

Pulling his gloves off, Rohan angled his body East, no questions asked. He slipped his fingers between his lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle.

It took Leah a moment but she eventually got eyes on the dot once more. She would have expected a wild animal to be spooked by the sound. Instead, the dot had continued to approach, gaining speed and becoming more and more clear.

“No fucking way.” Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. The lack of sleep since she’d gotten back was finally getting to her and she was hallucinating. That had to be it.

“Is that… Aika?” Ethan asked, apparently having gotten sick of her silence and taken matters into his own hands by looking through his own scope.

“It can’t be.” They both lowered their weapons, sharing a confused look. “Can it?”

Leah was afraid to get her hopes up. Aika had survived on her own once before but she’d gotten used to life on base where water had flowed freely and the peanut butter was plentiful.

They both ran down from the dune, rejoining the others by the tanker. Leah made a beeline for the humvee, yanking open the door and digging around the back seat.

“What’s going on?”

“Coleman glassed something. Looks like a german shepard.”

Benjie, Jer and Rohan shared a knowing look, immediately understanding what Ethan was implying. 

“Shoot it,” a man from the new unit said. “People out here don’t keep dogs as pets. It’s probably got rabies or some shit.”

“You shoot that dog, you answer to me,” Benjie barked.

Having collected the peanut butter packets from all the MREs, Leah got out of the humvee and began walking down the road. Without having to ask, Jer followed.

The men from the other unit began arguing behind them but Leah shut them out. She stopped just far enough from the station to not be overheard but close enough that if shit went sideways the others would be able to take their shot.

“It’s been months,” Jer said as the dog came into view. It was running now, closing in fast.

“I know.”

“That green would have washed out by now.”

“I know.”

“So how are you gonna check if it’s her without getting up within biting distance?”

Without answering, Leah stepped forward, putting a few yards of distance between herself and Jer. Hope had either made her brave or just plain stupid.

She was going to find out which in three… two… one…

Leah squatted down, putting her hand out in front of her. The dog didn’t slow, bypassing her hand entirely and barreling into her. The force of the impact pushed her onto her back and she prayed none of the boys had itchy fingers when a wet tongue darted out over her cheek.

Excited wimpers were like music to her ears, her own laughter adding to the sound of their reunion. Aika kept Leah pinned under her weight as she licked every inch of available skin.

“Hey, come on girl, let your mama breathe.”

Seeming to notice Jer for the first time, Aika jumped off Leah to press her snout into his outstretched hand. It took her a little longer to recognize his scent but soon her butt was wiggling as she wagged her tail hard.

Leah wiped the tears from her cheeks before getting to her feet. She gave Aika a full body rub down until she had calmed enough to obey commands.

“Aika, middle.”

Immediately, Aika turned to Leah, walking around her and coming to stand between her legs from behind.

“Good girl.”

Leah squirted some peanut butter on her fingers, letting Aika lick it off before she began to walk. Aika kept her position, walking between Leah’s legs. Maybe she was being overprotective but she didn’t want to give anyone a clear shot.

“You and Sy were busy.”

“She can do all the basic obedience they would teach a K9. At least, she used to.”

She hadn’t been practicing for very long when they’d left and she was still young. Consistency was key when training dogs and even the best behaved dogs failed commands sometimes.

“What’s the plan here? They won’t let her back on base.”

“When I got home, I had a talk with someone from the shelter my dad used to volunteer at. They were in the process of working with a local SPCA to fly her stateside. When Sy told me they had dumped Aika, they kept in touch with a few kennels just in case someone brought in a green shepard. I don’t know how fast they work but maybe if I can get a call out to my contact back home they’d be able to set up a meet before we move on.”

“The parts for the pump are being delivered tomorrow. We’re gonna be out of the country in a matter of days you can’t—”

“Jer, I don’t need you to tell me how fucking shit the odds are,” she snapped. “She’s made it this far. If there’s a chance, I have to try.”

Day 205:

From the moment she woke, there was only one thing on Leah’s mind. Heat. Her entire body was burning up. Blindly, Leah pushed her socks off under the blanket, letting them ball up at the foot of the bed then kicked the blankets off. When that wasn’t enough, she was forced to let her mind wake up.

Realizing that the reason for the scorching temperature was because she was still fully dressed, Leah remembered the previous night’s events. She sat up, looking at Sy’s sleeping form then down at his hoodie which she still wore over her dress.

After having been fully naked with him the night before, there was no reason to suddenly turn shy. She lifted the dress over her head, removing both it and the hoodie in one go. There was no way she was keeping her bra on, even for modesty. Underwires were created by the devil.

Once she no longer felt like a ball of fire, she made herself comfortable by curling up behind Sy. She pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades and slipped a hand up his stomach to his chest.

Sy hummed as her bare tits were pressed against his back. Taking Leah’s hand in his, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her inner wrist.

“Y’okay, baby girl?”

She nodded against his back. “Got hot.”

“You gonna be able to go back to sleep?”

“I don’t think so.”

They were likely both wide awake now despite the late night.

“Guess it’s a good thing we ain’t got anywhere to be today.”

Not that he would want to be anywhere else. He’d be okay staying right where they were for eternity. Or, at least, until they had to get back to base.

“Well, I actually did have an idea of something to do… If you wanted.”

Sy rolled over, pulling Leah to his chest. One hand followed the curve of her hip, lifting her bare thigh over his waist. 

“We gotta be there before twelve-hundred hours?” he muttered, still a little groggy.

Biting her lip to mask her amused smile, Leah pressed her forehead to Sy’s. “Nope.”

“Then I’ll follow you anywhere you wanna go,” he vowed, sealing his promise with a kiss.

“Why didn’t you bring me here earlier?” Sy questioned, looking up at the sign above the door.

“You said you didn’t want to be anywhere before noon,” Leah shot back.

“No, I asked if we had to be anywhere before noon. If you’d told me you were bringing me here I’d have taken the answer to that question as a yes.”

Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a smile. They both exited the car, making their way inside. A bell chimed over the door, alerting the receptionist to their presence.

“Hi there! What can I help you with today?”

“Is Terry here?”

Before the receptionist could open her mouth to speak, a male voice answered in her place.

“Now, I know my ears must be playing tricks on me because there’s no way that I just heard Gage Coleman’s little girl.”

A white-haired man exited a room which was marked ‘office’.

“No tricks, it’s really me.”

The older man pulled Leah into a quick hug before putting both hands on her shoulders as he looked her up and down. “It always scares me how much you look like your father. Although,” the man leaned in a little closer and stage-whispered, “you are way prettier.”

He shot her a wink before pulling away.

“Still a charmer I see. Do you mind if we take some of the guests out to play?”

“Not at all, go on back.”

Terry instructed the receptionist to give them both full access before he moved on to discuss business. Leah took Sy’s hand, leading him around the reception to the door that led to the back area. As soon as the door was open, the sound of barking reached Sy’s ears.

They passed a few different doors before they eventually reached the last one at the end of the hall.

“It’s best if you don’t try to reach into any of the cages. The signs on the doors will warn you of any potential behavioral problems or injuries that you need to be aware of. There’s a fenced area around back where we can play with them but I usually like to take them out on a walk first to let them roam and do their business.”

Over the course of the afternoon, Sy and Leah took all the dogs in the shelter out for a walk then to the back for them to run freely and play. That is, all but one.

When Sy had asked about the red card that was pinned to the cage, Leah said that it was because that dog was aggressive. At first glance, the dog didn’t look dangerous, cowering at the back of the cage but one of the vet techs had come in to feed him while they were in the room and the dog had started growling as soon as the tech had put a hand on the door.

They’d apparently been trying to socialize him in the two weeks since his arrival but no one had been able to open the door without being growled or barked at. 

“You can sit with him if you want. The same way we did with Aika. I wanted to talk to Terry before we left anyway.”

“Is it gonna actually help if he never sees me again?”

“Any potential adopter is going to be a stranger at some point. He needs to learn to trust people in general. You can sit in front of his cage with Daisy and give her belly rubs while he watches.”

Daisy was Terry’s elderly golden retriever. She was completely unfazed by anything and everything and was apparently used for socializing other animals from time to time.

At the mention of her name, she stood from where she was lounging on the floor and slowly made her way to Sy.

“I shouldn’t be too long but feel free to come find me if you get bored.”

Doing as Leah suggested, Sy sat down against the wall across from the cage. He didn’t want to risk Daisy getting too close and being bit. The pooch in question promptly followed his lead, rolling over for the promised belly rubs.

After a while, he figured the dog would also need to get comfortable with human voices so he decided to talk to him. And so, for the next half hour, Sy told the dogs all about Aika. He told the story of when he first saw her. How he’d been pissed off when someone had tried to shoot her. How he’d been heartbroken at having to leave her to die and the subsequent relief and ecstasy to know she’d survived. How she made the lonely nights less lonely. How she’d brought him and Leah closer. By the end, the dog had sat up, gazing at him with inquisitive eyes. 

This time, when he was forced to leave the dog behind, it was with the knowledge that the people at the shelter would do everything in their power to help him heal and find him a permanent home.

Chapter 28

[satansaidnottoday]

Twinning: part 2.

Part 1

Info: Human AU, Lucifer's Mc, Mammon & GN!Mc.

Summary: Mammon helps out with preparations for the party.

Every day you make up at 3am sharp to start baking. Nonstop measuring, mixing, pipping, and decorating until it's opening time. Mondays are the only day off, the only day a week you close down the café and take time for yourself.

Yet today you're awake at 3am on a Monday, bending over a DIY starlight curtain. And for what? Some kids you barely know the name of? Pity for a man who probably makes three times more than you? You didn't even know this family two weeks ago. And still, you keep gluing strips of LED lights together. It takes about two hours to be done, but it's beautiful and completely worth it. It takes another three hours until you've finished hot gluing starts into constellations on a navy blue banner. You would hang it up behind the glittery letters that spelled out their names.

You needed to prep just one last thing before the day. You know two things about these kids, one likes constellations, and the other will finish a cupcake in a single bite. So, a space cake it is. You would make it with leftover sheets, fondant, and cream to reduce cost. Making all the decorations for free was a lot on your wallet already. You got ready to have breakfast before starting when the doorbell rang. You make your way down the stairs, expecting maybe a delivery or a neighbor asking for a cup of sugar.

Instead, you find a man with messily bleached locks and the biggest yellow-tinted sunglasses you've ever seen. You wondered how he managed to see on a cloudy day.

"Hey! What's up with the door? It won't open!" He asks, before looking you up and down. Probably surveying the glue and glitter covering your old clothes.

"We're closed today..." You say, ready to close the door on his face, until you remember where you knew him from. The one very loud teenager following Lucifer around. "Are you Lucifer's brother?"

"Ya, Mammon, remember my name next time, I'm not just someone's brother." He says, indignant. "What even happened to you anyways?"

You would feel offended if you had any energy left for that. "Your brother."

"What?" He lifts an eyebrow, and you barely see it through his glasses.

"I'm making decorations for the twins's birthday," you explain, asking yourself why you are even entraining him.

"Ah, Lucifer did say something about that. But it's like a week away, why are you doing it now?"

"Because today is my only free day," you answer, patience wearing thin. "And I still have stuff to do, so..."

"Wait, but isn't that part of your job? Decoration and shit." He looked at you with a confused face. You felt a headache building up.

"No, I just rented him the place," you said sharply and opened your mouth again to say goodbye, before he interrupted.

"Since you're already working on your free day, can I have a caramel late? With soy milk, please." He smiles.

You close the door on his face.

"Hey, wait! I'll pay for it! Don't leave me out!" You hear him scream, but you just turn around and start going upstairs. He doesn't stop at all, just screaming louder with every step you take. "I'LL HELP WITH THE DECORATIONS!" He tries again, and you stop to think about it for a moment. "COME ON! I KNOW THEM BETTER!" He did make a good point.

After some more consideration (and some more screaming), you turn back and open the door for him.

"You're unbearable." You say when he finally stops screaming.

"Unforgettable, you mean." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Does this usually work for you?"

He does a weighting motion with his hands. "Fifty-fifty."

You let out a deep sigh, starting to understand Lucifer. "I can offer café con leche and leftover cat croissants," you tell him.

"Can it be soy milk? Please," he asks, tilting his head on what you think is an attempt to look cute.

"No."

He sighs this time, with fake exasperation. He looks at you pleading. You start to close the door again.

"Okay, I'll take it!" He says, launching himself inside before you can close the door.

He, in fact, didn't have a single problem gulping down the coffee with whole milk. Nor eating three whole croissants before even speaking.

"You got a nice place, how much do you pay on rent?" Of course he started with that. No thanks, no sorry for screaming my lungs off in front of your house.

"I own it." That was your only answer.

"Shit, really? You must be loaded!"

"I'm not, I just inherited it from my grandma. I had to pour all of my life savings and get a loan to open up the café. So I'm less than wealthy, I'm in crippling debt." You take a sip of your black coffee, washing your worries down your throat.

"Damn," he said, mouth half full of croissant. "That sucks."

You nod in response.

"You looking for a roommate? I can pay rent when I get a job."

"So, you can't pay rent now?…" He shakes his head. "So you would live here for free until you get a job?" He nods. "I'll pass for now."

"That sucks too..." He doesn't stop eating to feel bad tho.

"You don't like living with your brother?" You question, taking away the empty plate of croissants.

"It's not that, I'm just tired of depending on him."

"So your plan was to depend on a total stranger instead."

"I didn't think about it like that, okay?" He leans on his hands over the table.

You laugh and his cheeks grow red.

"Whatever, let's make festoons or something." He says, trying to change the subject.

"Ah, I'm already done with decorations," you admit.

He immediately stands up from his chair. "Oh well, then I should get going so I don't mess up your schedule anymore." He said, leaning down to grab his jacket, you stop his hand mid-air, holding his wrist.

"I do need help making the party hats, though."

He lets out an exhausted moan, letting himself fall backward. You're both sitting down on the floor, surrounded by cardboard paper and glitter stars. You had a system where you cut out the hats and decorations, and then passed them to him to assemble. In an hour, he has managed to finish a total of three hats. You had nothing else to cut, so you scooted closer and started assembling yourself.

"Come on, only six to go," you encouraged him.

He begrudgingly sat up again and grabbed one of the paper sheets to roll it into a cone. "This is so boooring. And your music is all old and sad."

You refrained from answering, instead opting to make conversation.

"How are you guys liking the new neighborhood?" You ask. You really wanted to inquire more about their family dynamic, but figured you weren't close enough yet.

"It's... nicer than our last place," he says. "It's safer, you know. There's kids playing outside and shit."

You nod.

"And you have some pretty nice neighbors." He looks at you confused. "I hear they will make you coffee even if you're annoying."

He scoffs. "In exchange for physical labor!"

"Oh, come on, it's putting double-sided tape on paper stars."

"It's abusive," he retorts, yet keeps on taping the stars on.

"It's for your brothers, don't you want to give them a cute birthday?" You ask with a playful tone.

"Of course I do! What I don't understand is why YOU are so invested in this if Lucifer isn't even paying for it."

He looks at you expectantly. After a few seconds pass by and it doesn't seem like he will relent, you stop to think. He is right, you have no stakes in this. So what if the kids don't have a nice cake and personalized decorations, it doesn't affect you. And it's not like they would have nothing. A lukewarm birthday party has never killed anyone. So why even bother? You would like to pretend you didn't know the answer.

"Heeeey!" He snaps his fingers a few times. "I'm serious, why are you so invested in this?"

"Because of your brother."

"Belphegor or Beel?" He asks, looking confused.

"Lucifer..." You admit.

"What? Why? It's not his birthday."

"It's not but this matters to him," you drop the finished Ursa Minor party hat into the box with the rest.

"How do you know that?" He insists.

"Because he looks so fucking sad!" You explode on his face. He backs up a little. "Sorry..."

"What do you mean sad?..." He asks in a smaller voice than before.

You take a deep breath.

"He looks so sad whenever he can't give you guys something you want, I can tell he feels bad," you say, putting into words a thought you've had since the day you met. "I know this is important for him, so I want to help him out."

Mammon stays silent, staring holes into you. After a few moments, he grabs the hat he was working on and keeps going. You both work in silence until they are all done.

"Well, you probably should get going now that we're done," you said, standing up.

He nods and follows you downstairs to the door.

"Thanks for the help, you can come back for your late tomorrow when the café is open." You hold the door open for him.

He nods again, but stays still, thinking. Finally, he turns to you.

"Thank you…" he says. You tilt your head, confused. "For caring for him, I mean. I try to, we all try to care for each other but, you know. He's the oldest and I guess we all expect him to care for us, so it's nice to know someone cares for him."

He quickly walks away, leaving you speechless at the doorway.

Feeling decent now. I tried something new with the writing in this one. Let me know if you like it.

Thanks for reading!

[ooops-i-arted]

ahsoka still calling anakin a 'good master' after everything he fucking did to her oh my god, ENOUGH!

cowboy hat man won't give it a rest. he wants to throw ahsoka in everything and have her ascend to glorified creator's pet status, but he still can't figure out how to feature her without making her whole worth and existence about anakin. a two year relationship that ended with the master nearly murdering his padawan gets to be highlighted repeatedly, as if it was the most emotionally resonant thing to ever happen to ahsoka and anakin. instead of literally any other relationship that could be explored more.

screw ahsoka's other relationships from the jedi temple or the clones. she can hang out with rebels characters who are reduced to hollow husks of themselves while she has the charisma of a plank. but let's remind everyone how special and awesome she is because anakin was assigned to her for a short time. ahsoka is almost fifty years old now, were the options really that limited? screw respecting anakin's kids who achieved their own legacies and played important roles in the rebellion, defying what he chose to become. luke and leia are barely present in these galactic events and it's rare for their names to be mentioned at all. and who the hell is padme at this point?

ahsoka's writing has been unimpressive for a while now and i haven't cared about her story beyond fandom osmosis. but her show probably isn't even servicing people who actually liked her from tcw anymore, it's about whatever caters to filoni's warped perception of these characters.

Not only is it egregious because we know Anakin is a child murderer, Ahsoka NEVER moves on or comes to terms with it! She just keeps wallowing in it so Filoni can wank off to Anakin licking Ahsoka's butthole. Also: two years. There's no way she's near as speshul to him as Padme (the woman he was in love with for 10+ years and his wife) or Obi-Wan (his Master who was like a brother to him, again for over a decade) or Shmi (his freakin' mother and likely his one point of stability in a chaotic childhood as a slave). Don't even tell me that if Anakin was dropped in the World Between Contrived Time Travel he would save Ahsoka over any of them lmao. Or drop her like a hot potato if he had to choose between Ahsoka and Luke, his son and the last remnant he has of Padme (her son), Obi-Wan (guarded and trained by), Shmi (her grandson) and pretty much the one person he was able to commit an act of true, unselfish love for (killing Palps).

I do feel bad for the fans since I've seen plenty of comments that it's "not her" and that RD's portrayal is just so flat and devoid of smirky smugness/cheekiness/whatever. I personally may hate it but it is part of her character. And you're right, why is it only people she isn't connected to? She barely knew the Rebels crew and mostly as Fulcrum, so a professional relationship, not a friendship. Not to mention Sabine being forced into a Jedi Padawan role despite NEVER showing Force sensitivity or any interest in being a Jedi, and she lived with two of them for years. She had plenty of opportunity to ask Kanan if she wanted to be trained! But nah, we gotta give Ahsoka a Padawan and throw in some forced girl power stuff on the side. (As a former little girl who deeply craved female representation in the male-dominated stories I loved, I can tell you, little girls can tell when it's forced.) (Also Sabine choosing to force herself into a Jedi role out of grief for missing Kanan and Ezra instead of actually being into it or confronting her feelings of loss could've been a really interesting character moment. But nah.)

Side note but I also find it interesting that Rex is barely in this show. Wasn't Rex Ahsoka's clone counterpart? They're very close friends? He's still alive and kicking and could help her out? That would be a really cool relationship to explore? Or did Filoni realize he can't whitewash a real Māori man the way he can animated clones?

(Also I saw this ask before bed and woke up thinking about Mara Jade and Jaina Solo, a female teacher-student relationship that was so badass, and now I want Mara Jade being Rey's teacher and helping her confront her relationship to Palpatine and Rey having the guidance of someone who Gets It, can you imagine. We could've had it alllllllll)

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Wifeplot #XXX: The Bell Of True Origins

The PIDW origin story (heh) of the pivotal artifact of my Scum Villain fic "on all my dying days (I swear)"!!! This is quite long, so the rest is under the cut <3

The Plot: The Bell of True Origins is a small bronze bell which, when rung, reverts the user in form to what they looked like when they experienced a turning point in their life, and brings them back to their current self once rung again

Specifically, it casts a mental manipulation spell on the user to subconsciously create a self-perpetuated illusion of that past self. This means that the illusion might not be a perfect recreation-- the illusion might be better-looking or thinner than they really were at that point. Or, if you're, say, Yue Qingyuan reconstructing what you felt like while qi deviating to death in a cave, even bloodier!

The Wife: Li Shuangjie is a non-cultivator whose younger twin sister (Shuangjue-- you can throw rocks at me for the name puns now) was killed was by some villainous rogue cultivator many years ago, and she's been hunting for revenge since

MANY years ago. Lsj is, at the LEAST, in her thirties, but I've been imagining her in her mid fifties. Battle between Airplane and pidw fans' perceptions of older women vs mine akdkfk

Lsj narrows in on this villain, finally, at just the time Bingge happens to roll into town. She befriends Bingge at an inn pub (he's undercover as a regular guy and is doing spywork for himself or something, idk). They hit it off, and Bingge is intrigued by how lsj clearly has something going on, though she won't share what. Lsj is drawn to him too, but she's too on-edge and too focused about being on the cusp of achieving vengeance to fall for his flirtations. (Yet)

Lsj comes across the Bell of True Origins-- I'm imagining an unscrupulous merchant pawning it off to her without explaining what it does besides it nominally being a cultivation tool-- and it reverts her to the dashing twentysomething year old she'd been when her sister was murdered

Lsj can't risk ringing the bell again, because to her knowledge this just deaged her by full decades, and she can't afford blipping herself out of existence, not now. But her efforts to find that shitty merchant again are unsuccessful, so her plan is now ruined; the rogue cultivator wouldn't have recognized her at her real age, but he'll definitely recognize her current appearance. She's devastated, and she goes back to that pub in abject shock and despair, at a loss for what else to do

Lsj meets Bingge again, who immediately recognizes her despite her looking oh so different, and she breaks down and confesses everything. Bingge valiantly swears to carry out her revenge instead, to lsj's astonishment

He indeed kills the villain and returns to lsj at her room in the inn (I'd say with the guy's severed head, but idk if Airplane can write romance like that)

At this point lsj has of course fallen madly in love with Bingge, and she tearfully tells him that he's done her a great service and there is nothing she can do to repay him

Obviously, Bingge proceeds to reveal that he's the Junshang and hits her with a few devastating come-ons, but lsj protests that this isn't her ~true~ self and he couldn't possibly want the real her

Bingge somehow produces the Bell of True Origins (he definitely murdered the guy who gave it to her) and solemnly tells her how it works, giving her the chance to use it on herself again

After great and serious contemplation, lsj decides to keep her young hot body, in the name of reliving the life she could not while hunting for her sister's murderer. She and Bingge immediately have sex. End of arc <333

This is widely seen as one of the more feminist wife acquisitions solely bc lsj is a milf and Bingge, gasp, even generously gave her the opportunity to keep looking the part!!!

Peerless Cucumber, of course, furiously reviled the arc for the ill-defined effects and unreasonable strength of the artifact, for stealing lsj's chance at the final blow against the man who ruined her life, and for lsj's personality doing a 180 as soon as she turned young again. But he did appreciate that Bingge and lsj actually spoke like companions before the arc devolved to papapa, and he thought her reasoning to stay young was actually pretty decent, even if it was obviously another sign of Airplane's lack of integrity 🙄

There was so much fanart and fanfiction about what the bell would do to Bingge. Hahahaha.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 27

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

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------------------By Order of-----------------

The Ministry of Magic Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-nine. Signed: Cornelius Oswald Fudge MINISTER OF MAGIC

This was an insulting decree of course considering that Professor McGonagall- as deputy Headmistress- should have taken over.

"Dumbledore will be back before long." Ernie said as Ernie, Hannah, Susan, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I were walking from Herbology. Harry had been recounting the story from his point of view which was a bit more descriptive than mine had been. I'd never been good with details. "They couldn't keep him away in our second year and they won't be able to to this time. The Fat Friar told me that Umbridge tried to get back into his office last night after they'd searched the castle and grounds for him. Couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Head's office has sealed itself against her. Apparently she had a right little tantrum. . ."

I laughed out loud. "Amazing!"

"Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office. Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy old-"

"Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?" Malfoy asked. "Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff." He drawled out, looking maliciously at me.

"It's only teachers that can dock points from Houses, Malfoy." Hermione said.

"Yeah, we're prefects too, remember?" Ron snarled.

"I know prefects can't dock points, Weasel King, but members of the Inquisitional Squad-"

"The what?" Hermione asked darkly.

"The Inquisitional Squad, Granger." Draco pointed to a second badge that was underneath his prefect one. It was silver with the letter I on it. "A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points. . . So, Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new headmistress, five for contradicting me as well. . . Five because I don't like you Potter. . . Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that. . . Macmillan, five for talking about our headmistress as well. . . oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood Granger, so ten for that. . . and Kane, your not expelled and your a werewolf brat so 15 points for that." He ignored Susan and Hannah whom he didn't seem to be able to find a punishment for.

Ron pulled out his wand, but Hermione pushed it away, whispering, "Don't!"

"Wise move, Granger. New Head, new times. . . Be good now, Potty. . . Weasel King. . ." Draco said and moved away with Crabbe and Goyle following him.

I snorted, "'Select group of students'. They're probably all Death Eaters."

"He was bluffing." Harry said, "He can't be allowed to dock points."

"It would completely undermine the prefect system." I agreed, "But look. . ." I pointed to where the house points were. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had been tied for second this morning, Hufflepuff in first. Now, Hufflepuff had dropped to second, Ravenclaw in first, and Gryffindor in third.

"Noticed, have you?" Fred's voice said. We all looked over at him.

"Malfoy just docked us all about fifty points!" Harry said furiously.

"Yeah, Montague tried to do us during break." George said.

"What do you mean, 'tried'?" Ron asked quickly.

"He never managed to get all the words out due to the fact that we forced him headfirst into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor." Fred said and I laughed.

"But you'll get into terrible trouble!" Hermione gasped.

"Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him. . ." Fred said coolly. "Anyway. . . we've decided we don't care about getting into trouble anymore."

"Have you ever?" I asked with a grin.

"Course we have." George said. "Never been expelled, have we?"

"Good point." I muttered.

"We've always known where to draw the line." Fred agreed.

"We might have put a toe across it occasionally." George corrected.

"But we've always stopped short of causing real mayhem." Fred continued.

"But now?" Ron asked.

"Well now-" George said.

"- what with Dumbledore gone-" Fred continued.

"-we reckon a bit of mayhem-"

"- is exactly what our dear new Head deserves."

"You mustn't! You really mustn't! She'd love a reason to expel you." Hermione whispered, looking around.

"You don't get it, Hermione, do you? We don't care about staying anymore. We'd walk out right now if we weren't determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So anyway, phase one is about to begin. I'd get in the Great Hall for lunch if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can't have had anything to do with it." Fred said, smiling around at all of us.

"Anything to do with what?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"You'll see, run along now." George said.

He and Fred turned to walk away. I hesitated and then ran after them and called, "Fred!"

Fred turned and I said, "It's going to go great!"

Then I turned and ran back into the Great Hall. I sat down at the Gryffindor table and to my surprise, Susan and Hannah sat down with us. I saw Filch was taking Harry with him. "Where's Ernie?" I asked.

"He went to the library to do transfiguration homework." Susan said. "I think he wants to be as far away from whatever the Weasley twins are going to do."

"What are they going to do?" Hermione asked nervously.

I grinned mischievously. "Why would I spoil the surprise?"

We quickly bolted down lunch and then, there was a large BOOM. Many students in the Great Hall looked around but Hermione, Ron, Susan, Hannah, and I all jumped to our feet and sprinted out the door. I led them to the first floor and we stared in amazement. It was much better than the visions.

There were Dragons that were made up of green-and-gold sparks, flying up and down the corridors emitting fiery blasts. There were pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameters, whizzing around the corridors like saw blades. Rockets were bouncing off walls and sparklers were writing swearwords in midair. Firecrackers were sounding like mine explosions. Every so often, a firework raced after a student and they would run, screaming their heads off.

Umbridge showed up a moment later along with Filch and then Harry appeared behind her too. There were a handful of students that were observing the fireworks and I noted that some of them were escaping out into the rest of the rest of the school.

"Hurry, Filch, hurry! They'll be all over the school unless we do something- Stupefy!" Umbridge shouted as the dragons started down the door she'd just come through.

A jet of red light shot toward a firework which exploded with a much larger force, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"Don't stun them, Filch!" Umbridge shouted angrily as though Filch was the one who'd made the suggestion.

"Right you are, Headmistress!" Filch said and grabbed a broom to swat at them. The broom head caught on fire. Ron was roaring with laughter and even Hermione looked pleased.

"Try vanishing them!" I shouted towards Umbridge and then ducked behind a column. I supposed she tried just that because the fireworks suddenly multiplied by ten. "Come on." I said to the others. "We're going to be late for class."

We hurried away to our separate classes. We rushed into potions, nearly two minutes late. Professor Snape looked up as did the other students.

I sat down in my seat. Suddenly however, a bunch of firecrackers came hopping into the room, exploding. The students looked at Professor Snape, wondering how'd he react and also trying to keep their eyes on the firecrackers so they didn't explode near them.

"Right!" Professor Snape shouted over the bangs, "Firecrackers and Potions don't mix. Class dismissed."

The entire class rushed from the room as a firecracker exploded against a cauldron. I dove to the floor so that I didn't get in the way of the explosion. I felt Severus hands helping me to my feet and dragging me over to where his office was.

"And now-" He said, hungrily against my throat. "We have about an hour and a half together."

"Good." I murmured as he started unbuttoning the front of my shirt, his mouth moving from my lips to my neck. We didn't even make it to the bed.

Umbridge spent the entire day, running around to the summons of the other teachers who didn't seem to be able to get rid of the fireworks alone. And considering the fireworks were making such a distraction, it was hilarious that none of the teachers seemed to care about them.

Professor McGonagall for instance watched a dragon firework fly around her classroom and then said sardonically, "Dear, dear. Miss Brown, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were walking up to Gryffindor Tower when we watched a tottering, sweaty-faced Professor Umbridge come out of Professor Flitwick's office.

"Thank you so much, Professor! I could have gotten rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn't sure whether I had the authority..." he said in his squeaky voice, and beaming, he slammed the door in her face. We quickly hurried passed her and then burst into laughter as we neared the portrait.

I congratulated Fred and George on their fireworks and wrote my name down on an order sheet and gave them 20 galleons for my order. I knew one day I was going to use it and it would be worth it.

Since I knew Umbridge was going to be exhausted from the long day, I headed back to Severus' office. He was already laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and he smiled warmly when he saw me. "Couldn't get enough this afternoon?" He asked, jokingly.

I blushed, locking the door behind me on instinct. "I just wanted to spend the night with you." I climbed into bed and he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep.

I was dreaming about walking down a corridor, a plain black door at the end. I reached the door, opening it and stepped inside. I was now in a circular room lined with doors and I walked towards the one in front of me. It opened too. I was in a long, rectangular room full of an odd, mechanical clicking and there were dancing lights on the walls. There was another door at the end of this room too.

"Wake up!" A worried voice said. I bolted straight up. Severus had shaken me awake again. I felt pale and clammy and my clothes were sticking to me.

I gasped for breath and swung my legs out of the bed, standing up. I felt disgusting and I needed a shower.

"Are you alright?" He asked, still sitting on the bed.

"No." I protested, my cheeks going red. "I feel disgusting. I need to go take a shower."

He sighed, pulling me into his arms again. "The shower can wait for a few more hours."

"What time is it?" I asked, looking around for a clock.

"3:43." He whispered.

"At least let me change clothes." I mumbled back. "I feel disgusting in these sweaty clothes."

He let me up and I tore them off, still feeling clammy and sweaty. How embarrassing! It was just my luck that it had happened tonight! Severus was tapping the bed with his wand and then stood up, coming over to me and tapped me with his wand too. I immediately felt better, much cooler.

"You don't need clothes." He whispered and I laid back down in the bed. The sheets and comforter were much, much cooler. It felt so much better and I laid my head on his chest like a pillow.

"Thank you." I mumbled, holding myself to him for comfort. One of his hands wrapped around my waist, holding me to him.

"Anything for you." he said softly, stroking my hair and that was the last thing that I felt.

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𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙 back the next night, he was absolutely livid. His face was white, his lips pulled back thin as Professor McGonagall's. I froze. "Er-" I racked my brain and then realized that Harry would have been here tonight. What had happened?

I tried to concentrate on the future and then found what I was looking for. So, tonight Harry had gone into the pensieve. Oh dear. I looked further into the memory and was able to see what he had seen. It was a memory of Snape as a boy. And Wormtail and Sirius were there too. Sirius was extremely handsome. Lupin and Dad were there too. I watched the memory through Harry's eyes as James flipped Severus upside down. And mum had come too, yelling at James to let him down, asking what Severus had ever done to him. All because Sirius had said he was bored. And Dad- Lupin- just sitting there under the tree, reading a book. And Severus calling mum a Mud-blood.

"Elizabeth?"

I looked up at Severus. I didn't know how long I'd been standing in the doorway but I realized that there were tears falling from my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, turning from him.

"Elizabeth, what's wrong?" He asked, turning me back to face him.

"I- I saw what Harry saw." I said reluctantly, watching his face turn white again. "The scene by the lake with dad and mum and Lupin. . . I. . . you were always right. . . dad was always arrogant. . ."

I felt horrible and I wished I'd never looked into that future bit. I sat down in the chair, looking at the floor. "And then Lupin was just sitting there. . . doing nothing. . . and I. . ."

Severus didn't say or do anything. He just watched me struggle, trying to accept the reality that my parents weren't. . . mum had been decent. How could dad have just sat there though? How could James have done that, just because Sirius was bored?

Finally, Severus sighed and then said, "That wasn't the only memory he saw."

I looked up, frowning, wiping the tears away. "But that was the only one-"

"Because he saw a memory about me and you." Severus said reluctantly now.

I froze. "Oh no."

Severus still looked extremely angry. "He didn't see much of it. . . though. . ."

I put my face in my hands. I'd been hoping for a nice night and now. . . well who knew what was going to happen now. "I'm gonna. . . I'm gonna go to bed, I think." I said weakly, standing up. Severus grabbed my arm.

"I'm sorry." he pleaded. "I don't want you to be-"

"I'm not mad at you or anything." I said softly, touching his hand. "I just. . . I didn't want you to be right about my dad. . . that's all. . . and I think I need to be alone to cope with that fact. . ."

I turned around and I walked back out of the room, leaving him behind, and headed to the Hufflepuff common room. I laid down on my bed for a long time, thinking.

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𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 talk to Harry. I wanted to converse about our parents and I couldn't. Every time I opened my mouth to tell him I was his sister, my throat closed up and I ended up saying something else. So I assumed now wasn't the right time to tell him.

Harry and I did, however, talk about the second vision- the one of Severus and me.

"He wouldn't tell me what you saw." I said, partially honest. "What'd you see?"

"Er- you two were just kissing really. I mean, it was weird to watch, obviously. It was at Grimmauld place." Harry said awkwardly.

I was much relieved to hear this. "Sorry you had to see that." I muttered. Then we looked at each other and burst out laughing.

But he was distracted too. I knew he was thinking about the other vision too. I overheard him muttering to himself the words, ". . .force her to marry him?"

I hated the idea that Dad might've forced mum to marry him. I didn't think that was it but at the same time. . .

But I had the memory from the dementors. Lily had been scared that James was going to die. So something must've happened so that they fell in love, right? And Severus had called her a Mudblood even though he loved her. . .

I groaned, slamming my head down on my book.

"You alright Eliza?" Ginny asked. I looked up, not having noticed her at first.

"No." I muttered.

"Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?" Ginny asked, snapping her fingers under Harry's nose. Harry was sitting next to me? I'd definitely been lost in thought.

"Huh? Oh, hi."

"A package just arrived, it's only just got through Umbridge's new screening process. . ." Ginny said. She hoisted a brown box up on the table. A red note was scribbled across the top that said INSPECTED AND PASSED BY THE HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISTOR. "It's Easter eggs from Mum. There's one for you. . . there you go. . ." Ginny said, handing him a chocolate egg decorated with small iced snitches. She handed me over a milk chocolate egg with iced chicks on them. Apparently it contained sour gummy worms inside of it.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Harry said gruffly.

"You seem really down lately. You know, I'm sure if you just talked to Cho. . ." Ginny said.

"It's not Cho I want to talk to." Harry said and I nodded unconsciously.

"Who is it, then?" Ginny asked.

"I. . ."

"Dad." I whispered. "I want to talk to dad."

"Sirius." Harry said, putting a piece of chocolate in his mouth. I put a piece in my mouth too and felt better. Dad was right, chocolate was a healing agent.

"Well, If you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it. . ." Ginny said.

"Come on, with Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?" Harry asked dully.

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George, is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve." Ginny said.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" An angry voice shouted.

"Oh damn, I forgot." Ginny said, jumping to her feet. I shoved my things into my bag as Madam Pince swooped down on us.

"Chocolate in the library! Out- out- OUT!" Madam Pince said, wiping out her wand and making Harry's things chase us out of the library, hitting us over the head as we ran.

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𝕬 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘 before Easter holiday ended, there were pamphlets and brochures that describe all the different possible jobs that could be done outside of Hogwarts. I briefly wondered why they didn't show these to us when we were choosing our classes in second-year because there were certain careers that required certain classes and if you hadn't signed up for the class before third-year. . . tough luck to you.

There was a notice on the board that read:

CAREER ADVICE All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below.

I looked and found myself in the middle of the list. I was supposed to meet Professor Sprout in her greenhouse office at 11:20 on Monday. This meant I would be missing Care of Magical Creatures but at this point, I was okay with not seeing Umbridge for a little bit.

"Well, I don't fancy healing." Ron said, perusing through the brochures. "It says here you need at least an E at N.E.W.T. level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean. . . blimey. . . Don't want much, do they?"

"Well, it's a very responsible job, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "You don't seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies 'Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!'" She read from one of her brochures.

"You'd need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle. Good sense of when to duck, more like. . . Listen to this." Harry said, "'Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure, and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad. . .' They want Arithmancy though. . . you could do it, Hermione!"

"I don't much fancy banking." Hermione said.

"Hey" A quiet voice hissed. "Ginny's had a word with us about you. She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

It was Fred and George. George, keeping a lookout and Fred talking.

"What?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Yeah. . . yeah, I thought I'd like-" Harry said casually.

"Don't be so ridiculous." Hermione said and I avoided her eyes. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that. It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?" George asked.

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time? No point at all, we answered ourselves." Fred continued and I giggled. "And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do." He nodded toward Hermione and put a hand on my shoulder.

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow. And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius and Elizabeth with her dad?" Fred continued. I blushed, wishing he hadn't mentioned me.

"Yes, but still, even if you do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office." I said promptly. "It'll be the only fire that isn't being watched."

"Are- you- insane?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't think so." Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?" Hermione asked, looking between Harry and I.

"Sirius's knife." Harry said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has-" I said.

"What do you think about this?" Hermione demanded to Ron.

"I dunno." Ron said, looking uncomfortable. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it? And Eliza?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley." Fred said, clapping Ron so hard on the back the pamphlets went flying off Ron's lap. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's corridors- Harry, Eliza, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office- I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?" Fred finished, looking at George.

"Easy." George said.

"What sort of diversion?" Ron asked curiously.

"You'll see, little bro. At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow." Fred said with a wink.

My stomach twisted as I watched them go and a sick feeling filled my stomach. But I wanted to talk to Dad, didn't I? I wanted to ask him why he didn't stop James from messing with Severus. . .

But before I had time for the real nerves to set in, I was sitting in front of Professor Sprout the next day in the greenhouse office. I'd never been in here before. It looked a lot like the Hufflepuff common room. It was round rather than square or rectangular shaped. There were plants hanging everywhere and dirt was on the floors. It was like a garden office.

In the corner was Professor Umbridge with her stupid little clipboard, but both Professor Sprout and I were determinedly ignoring her.

"Well Elizabeth," Professor Sprout said in a cheerful manner, "this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you possibly are thinking about and I'm here to help you decide subjects that you should continue with in her sixth and seventh years. Have you any ideas about what you want to do?"

"Well. . ." I said slowly. "I've had a couple. I'm trying to decided between becoming an Auror, a Healer, or. . . or um. . . an experimental potioneer."

Professor Sprout looked a bit surprised. "Really?"

"Well an Auror would be a great career considering the times we're in." I explained. "but I also love helping people which I could do as a Healer and. . . well ever since I was a little kid I wanted to make a cure for. . . for werewolf bites. I know it'll be difficult but I think I really could do it."

Professor Umbridge made a very small cough and we both ignored her. Professor Sprout smiled, "I think those are all wonderful career options. Now, let's go through the careers one by one, we'll start with Auror. It is a difficult career path, of course, because you'll have to study once you leave school as well. I don't see that being a problem for you at all though."

Professor Umbridge coughed a little louder and Professor Sprout raised her voice a bit. "Of course, you'll need to take most of the main courses like Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms-"

"Not Herbology?" I asked.

"No." She said, shaking her head. "It's an option, of course, but not a necessary one. However, if we move on to healing-"

Professor Umbridge coughed very loudly and Professor Sprout turned to her and said, "Are you quite alright Professor?"

"Oh yes, but I just wanted to inquire if you believe that Miss Kane here has the right er. . . temperament for becoming an Auror?"

"Oh yes." Professor Sprout said, nodding and still smiling. "Miss Kane is a sweet girl, very brave, extremely smart. No doubts at all that she will succeed no matter what career she goes into. Now," she turned back to me, "You'll have to take Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms for Healing. After all, it's an incredibly important job- one that should not be taken lightly as there can be consequences for inept healers."

"Like the healer who was supposed to be taking care of Bode." I said, nodding.

"Exactly. Now with the experimental potioneering, that's not really an official-" Professor Sprout was interrupted by an extremely loud cough. Her smile flickered, becoming extremely annoyed and said, "yes?"

"Well, experimental potioneering is a very dangerous job and I don't believe that Miss Kane here will be employed by the Ministry for the job."

I gritted my teeth. "I'm trying to create a cure for werewolves, of course they'll employ me."

"The Minister certainly will not." Professor Umbridge said, smiling.

"Well!" I said hotly. "Fudge isn't going to be Minister anymore by the end of the year."

Professor Umbridge jumped to her feet, "I knew it! I knew Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore isn't going to be Minister either." I said bitingly. "Granted, the next Minister is going to be a bit better but nothing like Dumbledore."

Professor Umbridge looked a bit unnerved and Professor Sprout quickly claimed my attention back, "I think a cure for werewolves in a wonderful idea." She said sweetly. Professor Sprout's sweet voice was so much different from Professor Umbridge. "It'll give so many people their lives back. Do you have any questions?"

I shook my head, "I don't think so."

"Alright then. You may go back to class." Professor Sprout said, marking something down on a piece of parchment and stacking it onto of a small pile on her desk.

I stood up and left the room without looking back. Stupid Professor Umbridge.

I wanted to hear Harry's interview with Professor McGonagall and knew that I'd have to be there sometime around half-past two. I went back to Care of Magical Creatures where we were still working on Knarls. Bloody boring.

I went up to the castle for lunch and then sat through charms. Potions was after that.

Severus held me back after Potions though and I felt my anxiety increase. "Look, are you mad at me?" He asked quietly as Hannah left the room.

I looked at him blankly, "Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know!" He said, sounding a bit exasperated. "You haven't been down once in nearly a week and a half though."

"Sorry." I whispered. "I've been busy- which isn't an excuse, I know. . . I thought you'd be er- mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" He asked, bewildered.

"Well you were pissed at Harry. . ." I said quietly. "And I'm his sister and James was my dad and lily was my mum and. . ."

"Oh." Severus said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes. I wrapped my arms around him.

"I'll come back tonight, I promise." I got up on my tiptoes and kissed his lips. I turned to leave and found I couldn't.

He'd grabbed my tie and drew me back to him, pushing me down on the desk and kissing me fiercely. I forgot where I wanted to be at that moment and wrapped my arms around him. We heard footsteps outside the door and we pulled apart. I grabbed my bag and passed Draco on the way out.

I hurried to where Professor McGonagall's office was and listened outside the door.

"Yes." Harry was saying, "Defense Against the Darks Arts, I suppose?"

"Naturally." Professor McGonagall said in a crisp voice. "I would also advise-"

There was a cough and I knew that Umbridge was in the room too.

"I would also advise Transfiguration, because Aurors frequently need to Transfigure or Untransfigure in their work. And I ought to tell you now, Potter, that I do not accept students into my N.E.W.T. classes unless they have achieved 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher at Ordinary Wizarding Level. I'd say you're averaging 'Acceptable' at the moment, so you'll need to put in some good hard work before the exams to stand a chance of continuing. Then you ought to do Charms, always useful, and Potions. Yes, Potter, potions. Poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than 'Outstanding' in their O.W.L.s, so-"

Professor Umbridge coughed even louder.

"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" Professor McGonagall asked curtly. I grinned, only able to imagine the look on her face.

"Oh no, thank you very much. I just wondered whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Minerva?" Professor Umbridge's voice was farthest from the door.

"I daresay you'll find you can." Professor McGonagall said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"I was just wondering whether Mr. Potter has quite the temperament for an Auror?" She asked sweetly the way that she had in Professor Sprout's office a couple hours ago. I wondered if she was only sitting in mine and Harry's interviews.

"Were you? Well, Potter, if you are serious in this ambition, I would advise you to concentrate hard on bringing your Transfiguration and Potions up to scratch. I see Professor Flitwick has graded you between 'Acceptable' and 'Exceeds Expectations' for the last two years, so your Charms work seems satisfactory; as for Defense Against the Dark Arts, your marks have been generally high, Professor Lupin in particular thought you- are you quite sure you wouldn't like a cough drop, Dolores?"

Susan and Ernie came over. "What are you doing?" Susan mouthed. I put a finger to my lips, still listening. I was joyful too- Professor McGonagall had mentioned dad. I loved hearing people talk about dad- for good, of course

"Oh, no need, thank you, Minerva. I was just concerned that you might not have Harry's most recent Defense Against the Dark Arts marks in front of you. I'm quire sure I slipped in a note. . ."

"What, this thing?" Professor McGonagall asked sharply and Susan, Ernie, and I heard the sound of parchment rustling. "Yes, as I was saying, Potter, Professor Lupin thought you showed a pronounced aptitude for the subject, and obviously for an Auror-"

"Did you not understand my note, Minerva?" Professor Umbridge interrupted, forgetting to cough.

"Of course I understood it." Professor McGonagall's sounded muffled as though her teeth were glued together.

"Well, then, I am confused. . . I'm afraid I don't quite understand how you can give Mr. Potter false hope that-"

"False hope? He has achieved high marks in all his Defense Against the Dark Arts tests-"

"I'm terribly sorry to have to contradict you, Minerva, but as you will see from my note, Harry has been achieving very poor results in his classes with me-" Professor Umbridge interrupted.

"I should have made my meaning plainer. He has achieved high marks in all Defense Against the Dark Arts tests set by a competent teacher." Professor McGonagall said coldly.

Ernie and Susan dropped their mouths in shock and I grinned broadly. We all looked at each other.

"A werewolf is not a competent teacher!" Professor Umbridge said angrily.

"Well Professor Lupin was the most competent teacher that we ever had for the class so I must contradict you. Any questions, Potter?"

"Yes. What sort of character and aptitude tests do the Ministry do on you, if you get enough N.E.W.T.s?" Harry asked, sounding as though he was trying not to laugh.

"Well, you'll need to demonstrate the ability to react well to pressure and so forth, perseverance and dedication, because Auror training takes a further three years, not to mention very high skills in practical defense. It will mean a lot more study even after you've left school, so unless you're prepared to-" Professor McGonagall answered his question.

'I think you'll also find that the Ministry looks into the records of those applying to the Aurors. Their criminal records." Professor Umbridge said in a cold voice. Susan shook her head.

"-unless you're prepared to take even more exams after Hogwarts, you should really look at another-"

"-which means that this boy has as much chance of becoming an Auror as Dumbledore has of ever returning to this school!"

"A very good chance, then." Professor McGonagall said.

"Potter has a criminal record!" Professor Umbridge practically shouted.

"Potter has been cleared of all charges!" Professor McGonagall said even louder than the Umbitch.

"Potter has no chance, whatsoever, of becoming an Auror!"

"Potter." Professor McGonagall said in a ringing tone. "I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly I will make sure you achieve the required results!"

Susan, Ernie, and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows and shocked expressions.

"The Minister of Magic will never employ Harry Potter!" Umbridge said in a trembling voice.

"There may well be a new Minister of Magic by the time Potter is ready to join!" Professor McGonagall shouted so loudly, students passing by looked at us curiously.

"Aha! Yes! yes, yes, yes!" Professor Umbridge shouted and I motioned to Susan and Ernie that it was time to leave.

"Wow." Susan said in a shocked voice. "I would never have thought Professor McGonagall would say things like that."

"My Dad was a good teacher, wasn't he?" I asked, pleased, still basking in that memory.

"Professor Lupin was the best." Ernie assured me.

Harry bolted out of the office at that moment, rushing to whatever class he was supposed to be going to. Professor McGonagall and Professor Umbridge were now yelling at each other, the door still open. Students started to look up as they passed, some of them slowing to listen in.

"Let's get out of here." I muttered to them and we hurried off the library.

I finished up a majority of my homework and then said good-bye to Susan and Ernie and made my way stealthily to Umbridge's office. I waited around a corner until I heard footsteps and saw Harry. He threw the Invisibility cloak over us and unlocked the office door and we hurried inside.

Harry pulled off the cloak, grabbing floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place." Harry said loudly. We both stuck our heads in at the same time. I'd never done this before. There was the familiar spinning sensation and then I was seeing the kitchen.

Dad was sitting at the table, bent over a piece of parchment.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

Dad jumped and looked around. "Harry! Elizabeth! What are you- what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah. I just wondered- I mean, I just fancied a- a chat with Sirius." Harry said awkwardly. I was looking down at the kitchen floor, unable to look dad in the face.

"I'll call him. He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again. . ." Dad hurried from the room.

"He must've gone to the Malfoy manor." I muttered. "Sirius keeps telling him to get out."

"This is painful." Harry muttered and I knew what he was talking about. My knees were starting to seize up. Dad returned moments later, Sirius at his heels.

"What is it?" Sirius asked and I thought of how handsome he was and looked back down at the kitchen floor. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No, it's nothing like that. . . I just wanted to talk. . . about my dad. . ." Harry said. He immediately launched into the story about Severus' pensive and what he saw inside of it- not talking about my part of course.

"I wouldn't want you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry." Dad said and somehow, I knew he was including himself in that. "He was only fifteen-"

"I'm fifteen!" Harry and I said together in heated voices.

"Look, Harry. James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Severus wanted to be- he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James- whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry- always hated the Dark Arts." Sirius said.

I gritted my teeth but said nothing.

"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because-"

"Because you said you were bored." I said, attempting to sound sorry for accusing Sirius but wasn't entirely capable of doing it. My voice was to tense, to angry, and both Dad and Sirius flinched slightly.

"I'm not proud of it." Sirius said quickly and I snorted.

"Look, Harry, what you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did- everyone thought they were the height of cool- if they sometimes got a bit carried away-" Dad said.

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean." Sirius said.

Dad smiled.

"He kept messing up his hair." Harry said, sounding pained. Both dad and Sirius laughed.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that." Sirius said affectionately.

"Was he playing with the snitch?" Dad asked in an eager voice. I felt like I'd faded into the background but said nothing. Dad's attention didn't have to be on me 24-7 and James had been his friend too.

"Yeah. Well. . . I thought he was a bit of an idiot." Harry said, sounding like he couldn't comprehend why Sirius and Dad looked so reminiscent.

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot! We were all idiots! Well- not Moony so much, that's where Eilís gets her brains too."

Dad shook his head. "Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?"

So dad hadn't stopped James because he believed he wasn't brave enough. I supposed that made sense. If Harry had done the same to Malfoy. . . would I have told Harry to lay off? Of course, Draco's dad had also tried kidnapping me so that was a bit of a different story. Ron wouldn't have said anything either- but Hermione. . .

"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes. . . That was something. . ." Sirius said.

So dad had rebuked them, just not in Snape's memory. I felt properly ashamed of judging dad so harshly and I felt tears sting my eyes.

"And, he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around. He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him?" Harry asked in a miserable voice. "She hated him!"

"Nah, she didn't." Sirius said.

"She started going out with him in seventh year." Dad said.

"Once James had deflated his head a bit." Sirius said.

"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it." Dad said.

"Even Snape?" Harry asked.

"Well, Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?" Dad said in a very slow, cautious voice.

"And my mum was okay with that?" Harry asked and I snorted again.

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

Harry looked unconvinced and I felt miserable. This talk wasn't helping at all, they were just defending their best friend.

"Look. Your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it." Sirius said.

"Yeah, okay. I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape." Harry said heavily.

"Now you mention it, how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?" Dad asked, frowning.

"He was so angry when I went to see him the same night." I whispered, "I'd never seen him so angry before."

Sirius face contorted.

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again, like that's a big disappoint-" Harry said indifferently.

"He WHAT?" Sirius shouted and I jumped, smacked my head against the fireplace, and then inhaled ashes. I coughed spasmodically, tears in my eyes and then pulled my head out of the fireplace to find some water. I could hear Harry making noises in the fireplace but not the full context of words.

Once I'd drank a bit of water, I stuck my head back in.

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing?" Dad asked sternly.

"Okay, okay." Harry said.

"Harry, Filch is coming." I said, my eyes half glazed over, "He just got an order to. . . to whip misbehaving students. . . oh that's just lovely."

"Stay out of detention Elizabeth." Dad said sternly.

"Yeah that's a bit difficult." I said and then pulled my head out to throw the Invisibility cloak over myself and Harry. I was still a bit annoyed with dad and was trying to push that feeling away.

We made it out of Umbridge's office, just as Filch came around the corner. We slipped past him and made our way to the Entrance hall. Harry threw the cloak off of us, tossing it into his bag.

Students were standing around the entrance hall just like the night of Professor Trelawney's sacking, some of them covered in some sort of substance. I could see ghosts and teachers scattered throughout the mix. Peeves was floating up close to the ceiling and Fred and George were standing in the middle, looking exceptionally pleased with themselves.

"So!" Umbridge said triumphantly. "So. . . you think it amused to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah." Fred said, catching my eye and winking.

'I've got the form, Headmistress !" Filch said, nearly crying with happiness and rushing towards Umbridge. 'I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting. . . Oh, let me do it now. . ."

"Very good, Argus. You two, are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what?" Fred asked. "I don't think we are. George, I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself." George said lightly.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" Fred said.

"Definitely." George said and as one, they lifted their wands and said "Accio Brooms!"

There was a crashing sound and Harry and I ducked along with a few other students as Fred and George's brooms- having broken through Umbridge's door the iron pegs and chain still attached- came hurtling towards them.

"We won't be seeing you." Fred said, swinging his leg over his broomstick. I grinned at him, catching his eye again, blowing him a kiss, and winking.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch." George said.

Fred looked around and then said. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley- Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat." George said, pointing at Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" Umbridge screamed.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves." Fred said and Peeves swept his hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George flew out of the Entrance Hall.

Students ran out of the castle and down onto the lawn to watch them fly far away into the sunset.

⬅️➡️

[dreadsuitsamus]

do u have any modern jiraiya hcs (sfw or not)?

he is largely like his canon counterpart tbh but i do have a few ideas for a modern version of him

Modern!Jiraiya Headcanons

big tinder user when he's single

started as a fanfic smut writer and was so good at it that he turned into a legit author (50 shades but better)

gifts custom lingerie to his flames, but only the relatively long-term ones

has a secret unreleased series of adventure novels entirely unrelated to icha icha, and only releases them under a pseudonym once you've discovered them

he likes burger king

he was a frat boy in his college days. he can still do a keg stand even in his fifties. in fact, he beats his record

he's traveled through most of the world, and has a collection of various novelties and antiques from the places he's been. when he leads you into that collection room and starts telling you the backstory of something, you know you're getting dicked down

listens to jazz or classic rock mostly. he does like cardi b tho

does not understand video games one bit, and thinks it's stupid to buy already ripped jeans

is a classically trained pianist

speaks a few languages fluently, but knows enough bits and pieces of several others well enough to get him around if he's in a pinch

works out often, maintaining the ripped body he's had since college

has a small tattoo of a toad on his calf. doesn't remember getting it

teaches a college course that's difficult to get into due to so many students wanting to take the class, and his availability is limited majority of the year as he travels

he takes a liking to a young student named minato, and they remain close long after minato's graduation

he's even the godfather of minato's son, and he'll deny it if you point out that he treats naruto like a grandson. won't stop him from immediately spoiling the boy with presents and treats every time he sees him

is often lonely, though not alone

still keeps in touch with his childhood best friends, and they get together at least once a year for old time's sake

his facebook profile picture is of himself and naruto. he'll post every few months with a random photo, and then go back to being inactive for a while

he started his boomer behavior the very day he turned 30

put his hoe era behind him when he met you

is banned from a beach out in france, won't say why but always get that same pervy smile on his face when asked about it

big guy. big muscles. big ego. scared of spiders

unfairly good at scrabble

cheats in tic-tac-toe (don't ask how)

hates the word undies

definitely likes keeping a pair of yours in his pocket all the time tho

big guy. big muscles. big heart. gave it to you years ago. hasn't regretted it once

[annislittleshopofhorrors]

I’m asking this with pure genuine hope that someone will answer me with a genuine answer?

After everything that has happened/has been revealed about Chris, how are you all still able to find him attractive enough? Is it a “death of the author” type thing?

All I can imagine when I see him now is him secretly being one of those 40 year old men who talk about how he doesn’t date women in their 30s because they “hit the wall” are “past their prime” and have “too much life experience”

Only thing I feel when I see him now is that feeling of like when your friends weird fifty year old boyfriend tries tag along and learn new internet slang.

I can't give a perfect answer to this. I mean I could ask you the same. I get a lot of anons who are angry, frustrated and write long essays about their feelings and at the end, they always say they are done. Are they? I came from the HC fandom and I was at this point. I was really done, so I just left.(I still think he's an idiot and don't really like him anymore.)🤷🏼‍♀️

(not specifically to you anon, this is more in general) However, don't ask me why but I'm not as angry as most of you. I understand all your anger about the podcast. But after rewatching the podcast - not the TikTok! (and not the whole podcast, the podcast guy is super annoying) I see Scott who tried to sidestep the questions about Chris and tried to generalize. I know team real sees this as a confirmation but I don't. I'm not defending Scott, it's just how I feel about the podcast. And of course the tabloids are writing about it, because they always get clicks for Chris. And due to the writers strike, Scott won't be able to promote Barbie anymore. So the defending brother is a good narrative for his image that keeps his name rolling. It's officially not over yet, so do you think Scott will tell anyone the opposite?

[novelistash]

My prize money pays for a new outfit. I look like a hiker in the rain, but the plastic poncho and goggles are necessary. Flying is rarely comfortable and I might end up flying in the rain. The weather won't be a problem for Connie, my Swanna, but I will be a cumbersome package when wet.

I get out my backpack and spend the better part of thirty minutes assembling the litter. It's a reinforced tarp held together by pipes and it feels more dangerous than it is. Mine is adult sized, big enough for a man who has four inches on me to lay down from elbow to toes, but it feels too small. I consider replacing Connie with a larger flier, but it'll require a detour that I don't want to make. I have a belldum to raise and it still isn't out of its egg.

With the last of the litter assembled, I lay it on the ground and summon Connie. She comes out with her wings extended, ready to splash opponents with surf. It's a reminder that I need to change her moves around. Once she sees the litter, the four foot long white bird uses her beak to help attach the handles above me.

"Alright, Connie. Let's fly!"

Hopping up and balancing her fifty pounds on the pipes connecting above my back, she summons a gale of air that lifts us off the ground. My stomach drops and I hang on to the upper edge of the pipes. Below us children are pointing at the once pedestrian sight of a trainer on wing.

Using my Poketech X, I orient us when we're well above the highest building in Lilycove. A direct flight to Slateport is gonna be exhausting and I don't know if I'm gonna get there before nightfall. If I go as the spearow flies, I might end up over the rocky islands east of Slateport, which could be full of wingulls, shuppets, and whatever's left of Team Aqua. Their efforts had been foiled for a second time, but criminal elements never truly disappear.

No, the safe bet is to fly over route 123 and end up in Mauville and Mt. Pyre is a detour I can easily avoid, only I tilt the frontal grips towards the south. Connie obeys, taking me straight for the flat-topped island shrine. Wind chills my exposed skin and I lean into my Pokémon's flight. Connie flaps once and our tailwind redoubles its strength to bring my eye to the ground. The stomach lurching terror makes me shout and laugh.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Connie makes spectacular time. Within twenty minutes we're rounding on the grassy peak of the hollowed inactive volcano. There's a wide walkway leading up to the sacred steps of the main shrine, it makes for a natural landing path but two trainers are battling. A gout of flame is more than enough warning. Connie turns us about to circle until this cool trainer and hex maniac settle their battle. The woman with long wild hair looks familiar. I fought her back when I did tours of Hoenn to keep my team in shape. I used to know her name.

Two circles later the cool trainer has the Sableye beat. The trainer and Pokémon jump into the air to celebrate their victory. I don't recognize the fire Pokémon, it's the second stage of that bunny thing from Galar. Trainer and Pokémon clear the path and Connie and I can finally land.

The ground comes up fast and hard. Even though Connie's brought up a pillow of air to cushion my landing and the litter takes most of the impact, it still rattles my bones. I crawl out fast, wipe the mud off my pants and feed Connie a treat.

"Hey, mister," says the try-hard sixteen year old. "You ain't supposed to fly here."

"So call a kill Joy. What are you here for?"

"Battles. You wanna try your luck against my Raboot?"

"No, thanks. You can tell everyone you beat me. I'm hear to pay my respects."

The cool trainer mumbles something about me being a vagrant and walks off. Connie is anxiously waiting a recall, but I keep her out. The sun isn't giving the ghost Pokémon a lot of reason to stay hidden. I push the handle of the litter down, folding it up as I store it by a bench.

The hex maniac approaches. There's this sort of manic glee in her eyes and I swear she's smiling wide enough to drool.

"Please don't tell me you're wasting money on a revive to fight me," I grumble.

"My powers are beyond the needs of such trivial expenses," she says like she's auditioning for a role in a movie.

I arch a skeptical bro.

"I have a some Zigzagoons running pickup."

"Ah. Well, I decline the battle. I'm here to pay my respects to lost Pokémon."

"That'll be a problem." A long gnarled hand points up the path and lands on scaffolding and plastic curtains covering the main shrine. "The actions of the ambitious have denied your desires."

I sigh. "Listen, I'm pretty sure we've met before. What was your name again?"

Her long berobed arm goes down in, and snakes its way up to pull back a long graying curtain of hair. Her skin is whiter than the tombstones around us. Though she looks no more impressive than any other hex maniac I've ever faced, somehow all of her fake spiritualism is really giving me the creeps. "You can call me, Valerie."

"Yeah. Hi, Valerie. Listen, I've lost a few Pokémon over the years and I was hoping to find a place to pay my respects. Is there anything like that here?"

"Over this way, ASH."

I follow her for a few steps before I ask her, "So you remember me?"

"Remember you?" She laughs and it's more of a hissing sound than a cackle. "I used to see you three times a week. You were the one who gave me my ziggies."

"I was?"

"You don't remember."

"I trained a lot of Pokémon over the years and I probably got rid of a thousand in my pursuit of a perfection. Believe me when I tell you it's nothing personal."

Valerie makes the forlorn mewling sound and right before I think she's going to cry, she stops by the statue of an Absol and smiles at me. "A younger version of me would've been heartbroken to hear that. Now it fills me with glee to know that you were so selfish."

I swallow. "I'm sorry. I didn't ever think-- I wasn't... I'm sorry."

Her crooked teeth gleam in the hazy fog of Mt. Pyre's basin. "It makes me happy, like watching a wingull finally succumb to poison."

Morbid, but then this lady has probably been coming back to this spot for over ten years. Her concept of normal is probably grim. "Why does my crass attitude make you happy?"

"Hmm?" she muses and looks to the white circle of the descending sun. "You were never worth the tremblings of my heart. I was wrong to think our souls could dance in death." She laughs. "It was me that was dancing-- dancing alone with the dead."

"Yeah, um, about that. Why do you keep coming here anyway? Are you like a ranger?"

"A ranger? No. No one gave me such a noble purpose. It is the souls of the Pokémon that bring me back. They are lonely and so I hug them when I can. Sometimes we share a laugh. Sometimes they dare me to give them my body."

"That sounds like a great way to end up in the hospital."

This time her creepy laughter does reach a cackle. She is laughing at my ignorance in the way that a teenager might laugh at a child, though we are clearly about the same age only her body has been worn down by her life among the grave. "The dead understand life more than the living, they do not waste their precious breath on words and training."

"Then why do you fight?"

She laughs harder, doubling over from the strain her cackling puts on her gut. That long curtain of hair hides her ghastly face and she points. A small shrine isn't too far. Around the stone monument is a patch of gravel surrounded by a solid ring of salt one foot thick. "Go, mourning trainer. Leave me to your sorrows and your life without reflection."

I take a step and then turn to face her crazed stare. "Don't you worry about spending all your time with ghosts? People need to be around other people."

"I am with minds that love life. You..." Her laughter approaches a place of sorrow. "You are closer to death than they, only you do not know it. You are a fool who surrounds himself in ignorance, and I am darker than a Sableye. I am clearer than their crystals. You are the shadow of your defeats, the ashes of the burnt. Go, coward. Go cry over your ash!"

Cackling in a wild voice, she walks away, leaving me to the solitude of the shrine.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

My meditation is haunted. The row of salt, the haze of incense, the string of charms are all too powerful to allow any ghosts inside, but I am haunted all the same. Valerie basically told me that she had a crush on me, but it was a crush I never noticed. I only ever saw her to vanquish her Sableye and collect some pen. She was a name in a long list of trainers that I beat to bulk up my auxiliary teams, but I'd left an impression on her.

Long breaths help me settle my heart, but I have to force the image of Doryu dying to get my mind back on the tragedy of my fallen friends. I take out six candles and lay them under the pyramid roof of the shrine. I light a dried out stick and light the candles in sequence.

Doryu, my Garchomp who fell to a Sylveon. Fission, my self destructing Metagross. Spiritomb, Roserade, Porygon Z, and Lucario.

These six had all died because of my prideful ambition to be a champion but many more had been cast aside because I deemed them inefficient. At least the Zigzagoon's in Valerie's care were helping her sustain this wild life of isolation. Others had been discarded to the wilds. I'd needed to breed thousands to achieve my goal of crafting the perfect team. Only everything I did wasn't enough to make me the champion. I didn't even have the conviction to honor their sacrifice.

Rain comes down soft. I wish it was hard, to pelt my skin, and punish my body for the folly of my past, but I'm dressed for rain and the gentle shower is more of an ablution than a gauntlet. So I breath soft, letting the petrichor still my heart, and accept that the pokemon who are lost fought because they believed in me. I chose them because they were fighters, even though Lucario and Roserade weren't made to be champions. When they died I blamed myself for trying to make those Pokemon into something they weren't but maybe it was me that didn't understand my soul.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Connie is ready to fly when I return, but there's no sign of Valerie. The rain is still falling, but it is a gentle sprinkle that wouldn't scare off a hex maniac like Valerie. She'd chosen this life of isolation, tended to the wounded hearts of the dead, but one day she would join their ranks. Some believed that dead humans could become ghost pokemon but I never did. I thought that Pokemon like Spiritomb and Gengar devoured human souls to keep themselves strong, but I never stopped using them.

I still have a Gengar and maybe it's not right for me to carry around Sorrowfell. Yet, Sorr is my pokemon. I raised her to fight and help me navigate the haunted corners of Alola. Handing her over to Valerie might be disrespectful, an insult to not only her but my Gengar. These Pokémon are my allies and I'm going to need the help of others if I'm ever going to make sense of my life.

Goggles on. Plastic hood in position, I lay down on the litter. "Let's fly, Connie."

She hops up onto the top of the litter, flapping to keep her weight from pushing down on the ground. Through the power of wind that feel more like magic than a physical reaction we rise into the droplets. Connie makes an excited trill to join the wind and water, to experience the elements of her existence.

Down below I see a naked pasty white woman dancing with her wet hair covering everything lewd. Valerie continues to move to an erratic beat, swaying along with ghosts my untrained eyes can't see.

I turn my eyes west, to clear sky that leads over to Mauville. It'll be a place to rest and hopefully a place to buy some decent clothes. Slateport is a city of Coordinators and entertainers. I'm gonna need to fit in if Esther Flowne is gonna give me the time of day.

It's strange that I keep thinking about how others see me. Valerie is someone I reflexively call a maniac, but she knows who she is and what she wants. Maybe that's part of why she's so scary. There's a certainty in being so mad, that the opinions of others no longer matters. I've never truly been in that state. The closest I ever got was a transitionary period where my unwashed state was a cost that came before my transformation. The Battle Chateau was a place for me to show off, just as my life in Sinnoh before that. Maybe it wasn't love that I wanted from Meriel at all. Maybe I just wanted a life where people would be jealous of me. @trainerspiral

[the-queen-and-the-king]

6-Down and up

Summary: Strauss storms up in Aaron's office with a smirk he doesn't like. She has something to announce and he won't appreciate the news.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss (and Strauss and the BAU team)

Contents: angst with a bunch of comfort and fluffiness.

This text is a part of a "What if?" self-challenge named: Seven days only. The pitch is: "What if Aaron discovered all by himself that Emily was sent to France when she was under witness protection and decided to tell her the truth about his feelings for her?" I limited myself to seven texts for this AU in a nutshell. Hope you'll like it. :)

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

PPS: This is the longest chapter of the story.

__

“Hotchner!”

Aaron barely suppressed a gasp as his superior's voice boomed behind his back. He swiveled his chair to face her and was struck by the flashes of lightning in her blue eyes.

“… Chief Strauss?”

With her arms folded across her chest, the fifty-something wore a sneering grin that boded ill for the future. What followed proved him right.

“You're fired,” she announced, not hiding her contentment.

“Wh…? What? He stammered, caught off guard. But… why?”

Clearly, this wasn't the first time she'd openly threatened to kick him out of Quantico, but she'd never before uttered such a sentence.  Let alone with so much confidence. A feeling that soon turned to cold anger.

“You really dare to ask me why? Well, I'll tell you: for serious offence, breach of protocol and endangering the life of one of your employees, she spouted, hammering each of these reasons, and then returned to her sly expression. Do I need to be any clearer?”

The profiler's brain began to cogitate at full speed. He tried to attach these blames to a situation or a word he had provoked or said during the previous weeks, but nothing came to mind. The day before, Emily had come to join him in his office at the end of the day and, where they had always been careful to avoid any sign of affection between them on federal premises, they had embraced and kissed. He frowned, confused. They were alone on that floor. Of course, there were surveillance cameras, but only above the bullpen area, the meeting room and in the corridor. All the other rooms had none. And yet…

And yet, everything matched what he was accused of. Their relationship was totally forbidden by the Bureau's rules and regulations, and because of his hierarchical position, he was even more at fault than his companion. The fact that she was pregnant, with twins no less, was the icing on the cake for the section chief, who had been dreaming of getting rid of him since he arrived. Aaron felt his heart racing and his insides twisting, but he showed nothing of his discomfort, displaying his most neutral air possible. Especially as he saw a potential way out.

“… Who took that decision?”

“The Steering Committee, after I'd explained the situation to them, replied Erin with some satisfaction. You have five minutes to pack before I call security.”

“Wait, there…”

The recourse he had been considering had suddenly closed under his nose. If the bigwigs had made this choice despite the agency's good results, it was because he'd had a target on his back for a long time. By trampling on one of the institution's most important rules, he had pulled the trigger himself. However, he couldn't let himself be buried without a bit of a fight. He had to find a way to bounce back.

“What about the job you offered me with the white collar task force?”

“Already provided, she retorted dismissively. And even if it had still been available, do you honestly believe that the Committee would have given you a branch management position again after what you've done?”

She looked at him with evident contempt. From her point of view, this form of lawlessness was the worst thing any could have done. She would have understood any act of violence to protect a loved one, keep a job to provide for a family or even climb the ladder of hierarchy; just as she would have turned a blind eye to possible bribes, but to spit on the rules for a few seconds of happiness was beyond her comprehension. He couldn't have disgusted her more than at this moment.

“… Our relationship is totally consensual, and I've never favored her over anyone else,” he said, dodging her gaze.

“I don't care, she snapped immediately. Your credential, your access card, and your guns. Now.”

He sank back into his seat, vanquished. After seven years of relentless battle with FBI brass, he had no choice but to concede defeat. He would have to leave his peers behind, and without the honors he had imagined for his departure. He would leave by the back door, without Champagne, without gifts, and without even a hug. Just a box with two or three odds and ends that had always belonged to him, and the angry glances of the agents on the sixth floor who would find, like Strauss, that what he had dared to commit was utterly disgraceful.

Jack's little head appeared in his mind and a vise tightened sharply around his torso, cutting off his breath. How was he going to reveal this to him? How was he going to justify that love could lead to this kind of disaster? The boy knew he had to keep his father's new relationship a secret – and he'd held his tongue to this day – but all the implications of this story logically escaped him. He was far too young to realize that loving someone could carry very heavy penalties. And it was out of the question for his sire to put it that way.

“You've got no right to do that!” cried a female voice.

Aaron snapped out of his reflections to discover that Emily had burst into the room and was glaring at her fellow. She didn't seem the least bit impressed by her shooting.

“Want to bet?”

“He needs this work! He's got a child to support!” stressed the ex-Interpol agent, one hand resting on her rounded belly.

He felt like intervening to point out that the director was perfectly aware of this detail and seemed to pay little attention to it. But he held back, realizing how much this remark would not be appreciated by his partner.

“Well, he should have thought twice before flouting FBI rules,” Strauss hissed, raising a defiant eyebrow.

“He didn’t take that decision alone!”

“Emily, please...” he interjected, sensing that this conversation was becoming detrimental to her as well.

“No! she cut him off in return, glaring. There is no ‘please’! She decided to do it out of pure revenge, without worrying about the consequences.”

“I'm still here, by the way,” grumbled her target, who didn't like it at all when people ignored her presence, let alone denigrated it.

The former prosecutor understood that Emily was so wound up that stopping her was going to be complicated. It felt like trying to stop a train with his bare hands.

“What would you have said if your husband had been fired just as you were about to give birth to his son? Huh?” she exclaimed, paying no further attention to the father of her babies.

“You knew the risks, it seems to me, reminded her much calmer opponent. So you’ve only got yourselves to blame.”

He saw the blood rise to his lover's cheeks and her jaws clench. Her level of fury was such that her arms trembled. He had to do something before this discussion got out of hand and they both ended up on the sidewalk with their belongings under their arms. This would be particularly problematic with three children to raise. He still had to find the right boarding maneuver.

“… You're gloating, aren't you? Squeaked the mother-to-be, barely loosening her teeth. You get…”

“Emily! Her partner thundered. Chief Strauss, may I speak with Agent Prentiss for a moment?”

The profiler gave him a dark look that he ignored. It was temporary. Her anger would subside with the departure of her opponent.

“… You have five minutes, said the latter, with a pinched air. Then I'll call security and you'll be led out of here by force.”

Which would please her far too much to grant her the honor. This didn't give him as much time as he would have liked, but he would do what was necessary to get out of here without the intervention of the security guards. The couple watched Erin leave, then the next ex-tenant rose to pull down the blinds. He wanted to talk to the one he loved without feeling all the stares of his employees. He then turned to Emily, who still looked like she wanted to claw his eyes out.

“Calm down,” he advised, trying to put his hands on her shoulders.

“How do you expect me to calm down?! She retorted, taking a step back. She just kicked you out when... when I'm about to give birth. And you just stand there without reacting.”

Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks and she stumbled over every word. Grief, fear, stress, and anger fought vigorously in her head and heart, and he wanted more than ever to take her in his arms. But he had to make her understand that the game was over for him.

“I've been accused of serious offence and of endangering the life of one of my men, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

She frowned, first from confusion and then from annoyance.

“I’m not in danger!”

“Pregnancy is not a trivial matter. And a twin pregnancy even less so.”

He would have liked to back up his words with a few telling statistics, but he didn't have Spencer's expertise in that domain. And even if he had, the adrenalin pulsing through his veins prevented him from gathering his thoughts.

“But... Emily hiccupped, before pouncing on the first bait her anguish-suffocated brain came up with. Someone saw us. Somebody ratted us out. We must find them and…”

“Emily, it doesn't matter who's responsible for this,” he lied, repressing his natural curiosity.

At this hour, however, he would have given anything to know the identity of the rat who had exposed them out, so that he could tell them his point of view on the matter.

“It must be very recent, continued his partner, who hadn't heard a thing. It may have been yesterday. It must. Strauss would never have waited several weeks to grant her dearest wish.”

He was impressed to see that, even under such high levels of anxiety, which made her talk too fast, she was still able to formulate reasoning that made sense. But she had to come back to the present time and be careful of what he said. Several minutes had already elapsed and he would not be entitled to any extras. He clutched his companion's biceps and caught her gaze.

“Emily, listen to me.”

“I don't want you to go,” she said, two tears running down her chin.

“I know. Me neither, but the Committee has made its decision and they're not going to go back on it.”

“But this is your agency, your baby. You can’t leave us like this.”

His throat tightened.

“You'll do just fine without me. In fact, you never really needed me.”

“Don't say that!” she exclaimed abruptly, freeing herself from his embrace.

She hated to hear him denigrate himself, he knew, but even if he sometimes more or less consciously distorted reality, here he was sure he had a rather realistic view of things.

“It’s the truth. Now that you're all here and know the mechanics, you can continue this adventure without my help.”

She scanned him without saying a word, didn't seem to notice the new pearls that escaped along her cheekbone, then sat down on the nearest seat, trembling. He settled down opposite her, on the coffee table, and intertwined his fingers with hers in what he hoped would be a soothing gesture.

“… Wh… what are we going to do?”

“I’ll find a new job.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know yet, he admitted, but I will. I have too, anyway. And you're going to stay here and take my place.”

“What?” she croaked, trying to get away again.

He held her back because it was crucial that she pay attention to the end.

“You're the one who's best qualified to take over this position. You know the team; you know the job and you're much more diplomatic than I am.”

No doubt if he had been less cold and more accommodating to his peers, the punishment would have been different. But political imbroglios and hypocritical kowtowing weren't really his thing.

“I'm going to give birth in the next few days,” she reminded him in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Derek will act as interim manager until you return from maternity leave, but then it's up to you to take over.”

Confusion flashed across her face. She was unsettled by this sensed answer, suggested with such ease at a moment like this. He'd never dare admit to her that he'd thought about this problem months before, so that one of them would be there to take care of Jack and the twins properly. He wasn't happy about leaving the BAU, but he wasn't young anymore and his body had already been through a lot. He no longer had the resources, physical and mental, to keep up with the pace imposed by their profession, and the children needed a parental presence. Later, he would suggest that she take on the administrative tasks of the post to limit the risk of premature death, but this was not on the agenda yet.

“Strauss never let me,” remarked a more composed Emily.

“You'll find the arguments to convince her, he assured her, confident in her negotiating skills. And, in any case, she can't make this decision alone. She'll need the Committee's approval, and they have nothing to hold against you.”

“My funeral cost thousands of dollars.”

“Yes, but you were unconscious all along. They know that it was not your idea then.”

She immediately realized that he had once again taken on the entire burden. She wouldn't have been surprised to learn that, according to his testimony, JJ had nothing to do with the whole affair.

“Aaron…”

“I'll be fine, don't worry,” he said, intercepting a tear that had just spilled from her eyelid.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the palm of his hand. She was hurting, probably as much as he was, but held back from letting herself go completely. It was not the time nor the place.

“HOTCHNER!”

They startled in unison, turning their irises towards the open office door.

“I've got to go; can you take care of getting my things together?”

She nodded, too upset to find the strength to speak. He wiped yet another tear from her cheek, squeezed her fingers briefly, stood up, placed a kiss on her forehead and, with a heavy heart, left the place for the last time in his life. He joined Strauss in a few strides, ignoring the spotlights on him. All the agents present stared at him, expressing a whole battery of different emotions. Most were baffled. Reid was overcome by panic and looked around for support. Dave was clinging to the railing that bordered the walkway, seething inwardly. JJ, who had gone to warn Penelope, looked as shocked as the analyst. Morgan was absent, preoccupied with one of the tasks he'd handed over to him after his rehabilitation. And a few others seemed far too serene to be honest. His dismissal was not bad news for everyone.

“Your badge, weapons and access card?” thundered the section leader, indifferent to the general unease.

“On my desk.”

She smirked, then led the way. He didn't dare raise his eyes in the direction of his team members. Not because he was ashamed, but because he feared he would collapse completely when he read the pain on their faces. His lover was right: this agency was his creation; and these profilers were his extended family. And he was forced to abandon them without a word of explanation, without even a goodbye. A crack opened in his chest as the elevator doors swung open to engulf him. He had to bite the inside of his cheek and dig his nails into his skin to keep from exposing to his enemy the pain that was devouring him at the moment.

Then he heard a scream, muffled by the glass plates marked with the FBI seal, which he recognized at once. Reaching out to activate the cabin's presence sensors, he leapt into the corridor, shouting:

“Emily!”

Several hours had passed since the stage was set, and the team was occupying some of the seats in the maternity waiting room that had followed Emily's pregnancy. Armed with their phones, and Penelope's laptop, the agents tried to get on with their work despite the confusion in their heads. Since their arrival, they had had no news of their colleague and friend, Aaron having disappeared at the same time as her. Derek suddenly appeared, finally free of his obligations, and he wasn't happy.

“Is it possible to know what’s going on here?!”

“Emily's water broke,” Spencer announced, looking up from his paper file.

“Yes, I know. I've received four messages with this information, he revealed, a little more calmly. I was referring to the rest. What’s this all about? Why did Strauss fire Hotch?”

“Because he’s the twin’s father.”

All eyes, wide with surprise, turned to JJ.

“What?” replied the group in chorus, Dave excepted.

The former liaison officer sighed and reached for her personal phone.

“Look at this photo, she advised, turning the screen towards them. It’s from Henry’s birthday.”

They all leaned in with intense concentration to see themselves dancing in the garden of the couple she formed with Will. It was dark, the lanterns were diffusing their warm light and the guests seemed to be having a good time. At first glance, there was nothing to suggest this.

“Yes, that’s us. So what?” asked her neighbor, puzzled.

JJ took back her property, enlarged a certain area of the image, and put it back under their noses.

“Look at the background.”

This time, behind the pixelated faces, they could see Emily and Aaron sitting side by side on a bench, deep in conversation. There was nothing wrong or abnormal about it. But, the way the manager's hand rested on his employee's thigh spoke volumes about the true nature of their relationship.

“How long have you…?” Penelope stuttered.

“It’s been weeks now, she confessed. I wanted to make a photo album for my mother, and while retouching some of them, I came across this.”

“And why didn't you tell us about it?” wanted to know Derek, offended.

“Because I wanted to discuss about it with them first. But the occasion never showed up.”

That and the fact that she felt it wasn't her role to make such a revelation.

A stony silence fell over the group, which took in the information as best it could. In other circumstances, they might have fun with it, but the context wasn't exactly a laughing matter. Derek was the first to recover his sense of speech.

“O… okay. They sleep together. Fine. But… in the end, they’re not doing anything wrong.”

The tone was more questioning than assertive. He needed to hear what others were feeling.

“FBI regulations clearly state that sexual and romantic relationships between colleagues are prohibited, and even more so when the two partners don't have the same status,” recited Spencer, in his usual professorial tone.

“I'm aware of that, Einstein, grumbled the ex-policeman, but the fact is, who cares? I mean, in all this time, Hotch hasn't benefited or disadvantaged Emily any more than us. He continued to run the unit as he always had.”

Penelope nodded vigorously in agreement.

“But that doesn't mean he has the right to be with her,” JJ reluctantly pointed out.

Like the other blonde in the room, she had no problem with the couple her friend formed with their superior – on the contrary, she'd never seen her happier than in recent months – but Bureau policy was perfectly clear on the subject.

“As if we could decide who we fall in love with! assented Derek, unable to sit still any longer. That’s ridiculous! Don't tell me this is the Committee's only argument for kicking him out.”

“He's been charged with serious offense, breach of protocol, and endangering the life of one of his employees,” repeated Dave, who had heard Strauss's words through the party wall separating his workspace from that of the unit manager.

“Wha…? His interlocutor choked, dumbfounded. And what? He raped her, maybe?”

“He may have used his influence as a high-ranking officer to obtain sexual favors from her.”

“Bullshit! We all know that it’s false!”

“Yes, because we know him, bounced JJ, who understood her colleague's morgue. But upstairs…”

The whole team knew that Hotch was the last person in the world capable of committing inappropriate acts against his subordinates. It was hard enough for him to put up with any of them hugging him – as friends – so it was highly unlikely that he'd perpetuate touching on anyone. As for abusing his authority to get something done, it would be to misunderstand him to think that he would ever stoop to such a level. More often in the background than in the limelight, he only played the agency manager card when it came to protecting his team. The rest of the time, he was just another federal agent. And then, since his divorce and then Haley's death, they'd all been able to note that his need for trifles was certainly what influenced his behavior the least. To not say that he doesn’t care at all. Except that, to find out, you'd need several years' experience working alongside him, which Management didn't have.

“’And endangering the life of one of his employees,’ said Derek, quoting Dave. And then what? Emily's in no more danger now than we are when we go out into the field to investigate.”

“The mortality rate among women pregnant with twins is three times higher than for single pregnancies. And for all pregnancies combined, the national mortality rate is 13.3 per hundred thousand, compared with 34.9 in DC alone.”

They all watched Spencer, eyebrows furrowed. They regularly thought they'd finally become accustomed to these outpourings of clinical facts, detached from any emotional aspect, but the youngest of the bunch still managed to surprise them. Which was not necessarily for their liking.

“Are you serious?” Derek thundered, far from amused.

“It’s the statistics.”

“But it's horrible! squeaked Penelope, paler than usual. Do you realize that you’re talking about Emily?”

“Okay. Stop, intervened JJ before the discussion could continue. Aaron is coming back.”

Indeed, he was heading up the corridor towards the waiting room, where he had been told a number of people were hoping for news. Someone had made that statement to him, but he couldn't remember who – surely a member of the hospital staff – or when – he didn't even know what time it was. Everything was upside-down in his head. He'd started the day by tumbling down the social ladder at breakneck speed, going from manager to unemployed in the blink of an eye. Then he'd been afraid for the woman he loved for far too long. He had stayed by her side as long as possible, holding her hand, encouraging her, bringing her everything she needed, ignoring the calls of his own body. He'd seen her cry, clench her teeth, writhe in pain, struggle with all her might, and fight the urge to give up. He'd heard her screaming, begging, moaning, praying, grunting, and huffing for an eternity. She'd crushed his hand, his wrist, his shoulder – everything she'd been able to hang on to in her agony had been subjected to an exceptional pressure that only people in her position were capable of deploying. He hadn't said anything, of course, because it was the last thing he would have the right to do. When it came to giving birth, only the mother-to-be mattered.

There were so many emotions racing through his skull that he was trembling when he reached his men, who had all risen to their feet as he approached.

“So?” asked Penelope, clutching her bag.

The computer expert's voice seemed to come from far away, and he felt as if he had returned to the time when one of his eardrums was being rebuilt after the New York bombing. He hadn't really understood what she'd said, but there weren't many questions you'd ask in a maternity ward. Painfully, he gathered his wits, swept away the parasitic sensations, to formulate an intelligible sentence.

“… Uh… everybody is fine.”

All the agents around him raised their arms in the air, showing expressions of joy mixed with relief. They applauded, embraced each other, and fell joyfully on him one after the other. He didn’t know if he reacted. Words popped into his head, and he spelled them out without really being conscious of the tone he was using.

“Twins are all good. They are small, but alive. And Emily is exhausted, but she'll get over it, he asserted, sensing that his second state was beginning to dissipate. Look, I’ve got to tell you something.”

“We know.”

This collegial reply was enough to snap him out of his trance.

“… How… What do you mean?” he stammered, bewildered.

JJ handed him her phone, and he saw himself with Emily on a familiar bench, in an attitude that spoke for itself. He briefly regretted having had this moment of weakness, then told himself that perhaps it was for the best. He wasn't sure he had the energy for long speeches.

“Oh. Okay. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, he apologized, looking at them. We… we thought it was the best thing for the whole team.”

“It would have made things so much simpler if you'd told us the truth right away,” JJ pointed out, realizing now how much they'd had to do to keep her in the dark.

“We… we improvised, he confessed, embarrassed. This pregnancy was definitely not on the agenda.”

He hoped that his sluggish tessitura did not imply that this double birth was a bad thing. Because that wasn’t his feeling at all. He simply hadn't expected to become a father again so soon. Or just to become a father again.

“But how long has this been going on between you?” asked Dave, curious.

“Eight months, he said without blinking. I… I figured out from talking to JJ where she was and I... I did my research.”

The irises of his peers focused on him, transfixed.

“Did you find out where she lived without my help?” advanced Penelope, incredulous.

“… Yes.”

The profilers looked at each other, both stunned and fascinated. Somewhat like Spencer, but to a lesser extent, Aaron was an old school man, who handled new technologies with great care and a low average success rate. That he'd managed to locate someone on the other side of the ocean, in a country whose language he didn't understand, on the basis of a handful of words alone, was fabulous, to say the least. His passion for Emily had obviously given him wings. Dave burst out laughing and patted him on the shoulder, blown away by this mastery.

“As far as Strauss is concerned, I'm sure there's a way to make her reconsider her decision,” said Derek, who had fallen out of the general euphoria faster than the others.

“Look, I don't think it's such bad news after all,” Aaron countered, a shy smile on his lips.

“What?” shouted the group.

He had expected this outcry and so unfolded his plea.

“Yes, with three children at home, one of us is going to have to work slightly less flexible hours and be less likely to get hit by a stray bullet. And, of the two of us, I'm the older.”

“What should I say?” ironized Dave, who was ten years older than him.

“You don’t have any children to take care of.”

It may have been a low blow on his part, but it was the truth. An epicurean by nature, the BAU co-founder had mostly enjoyed life on his own, forming only fleeting relationships with women. A life choice like any other, in the end, but one that left him freer of his movements than Aaron or JJ – and now, Emily – who had to constantly integrate their offspring into all their decisions. David bowed without a snub.

“Okay, that's all well and good, commented Penelope, but the real question is: can we see them?”

“As soon as I get the go-ahead, yes.”

“Like, that go-ahead?”

She pointed to the nurse who had just arrived at his back and was waiting. He went closed to her.

“The little ones have been put into an incubator and your companion is with them,” she told him gently.

“Thank you.”

She smiled at him and then walked in the opposite direction. He returned to his people.

“We can go. Just one thing first, he said immediately, cutting them off. The babies are in an incubator so Emily can't hold them. So don't say a word about my eviction and try to make this day a good memory for her.”

He felt a little foolish asking them to do such a thing, but the agents' moved and benevolent expressions reassured him.

“Aye, aye, sir!” said JJ, leading the way.

The whole group moved to Emily’s room. They discovered her bedridden in a thin, pale blue blouse, her features taut and some of her hair still stuck to her face with residual sweat. Next to her was a large, transparent, enclosed structure in which two small forms were swaddled in blankets. Two tiny heads protruded from the ground, framed by fists a few centimeters in circumference, with caps placed over them. Each of different color.

“Congratulations!” cried the newcomers.

Touched, the mother of the family accepted hug after hug without holding back her tears. Aaron watched the show from the sidelines, restraining himself from reaching up to kiss and cradle her. He knew there was a lot of joy and relief in those tears, but not only that. However, he had given instructions and they applied to him too.

“Well done, honey! JJ congratulated her again. It couldn't have been easy, but you rose to the challenge with flying colors.”

“Thank you, replied her friend, her voice uncertain. Thanks for all your advice.”

“Bravo, bravo, bravo! They're magnificent! exclaimed Penelope, struggling to contain her own emotion. You've done a masterful job.”

Out of reflex, Emily turned her gaze to the pair of infants, from whom little could be made out. She herself had seen them only briefly, as the first had been quickly taken from her hands so that she could take out the second. The nurses then kept them with them to give them first aid. Aaron had been kicked out of the obstetrics block immediately afterwards, as was customary, although he knew perfectly well what procedure his partner had undergone at the time. But, unlike what had happened with Jack, he hadn't been allowed to hug his children, or even approach them. He had witnessed the usual battery of examinations through the porthole of a fire door, catching glimpses here and there of stunted fingers or a frail leg. In other words, neither he nor she really knew what their offspring looked like.

“Aaron had a bit to do with it,” said his lover, crossing his pupils.

The interested party smiled shyly.

“At the same time, with two bombshells like you two, they’re bound to be little splendors,” decreed the analyst, peering through the glass to see more.

“Please, I look terrible.”

“You look gorgeous, she contradicted immediately. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Objectively speaking, yes,” he replied, admiring the woman he loved.

She was exhausted, sweaty, and disheveled, but she was still the most beautiful creature he thought this Earth had ever borne. And her burst of laughter after this line of humor gave her an added charm. The former hacker was right: if the twins had taken after their mother, they were certainly beautiful. Emily wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Sorry for not telling you.”

“Who cares? Snapped Penelope, raising an eyebrow at her neighbors. The main thing is that you're well and those little monsters are healthy.”

This burst of relativism restored color to the profiler and warmed the unit manager's chest.

“What are they called anyway?” wanted to know Spencer, who craned his neck to try and see more than a bit of nose or fingernails as big as pinheads.

Emily and Aaron exchanged a knowing glance and a genuine smile spread across her lips. They'd been waiting for this question for weeks, eager to hear their friends' reactions. And the time has come finally.

“So, just so you know, Jack chose the middle names, he explained first. We chose the first ones.”

As soon as he knew the gender of the fetuses, the little boy expressed his wish to name the new members of his family himself. His father and the mother-to-be had offered him this deal, and he had accepted. They had feared for a moment that he'd be selecting surnames at random from a calendar or the TV program, but he'd thought very hard about this problem before making a suggestion. And the fact was that the jury agreed with his choices. All that remained was to see if the same would be true for their kinds. Emily took the initiative.

“So, the little pink hat is Louise – because we made them in France – Penelope.”

All attention shifted to the luscious blonde, who opened her mouth several times without making a sound. Jack adored the computer scientist, whom he found simply extraordinary. The fact that he wanted to pay tribute to her by naming his little sister after her didn't really surprise the parents.

“Pen... Me?” gurgled the young woman, bewildered.

“Yes, you,” confirmed Emily, delighted with her effect.

“Oh, it’s… it’s…”

Penelope – the adult – began to cry loudly, flapping her hands around her head as if she hoped this would close the floodgates that had just opened. The surrounding audience was tenderly amused by the situation. Or almost.

“You've managed the feat of nailing her, congratulations,” laughed Derek, hilariously.

His target struck him hard on the shoulder, eyebrows furrowed behind her glittery glasses.

“I'd like to see you in my place, she growled, before turning to face those responsible for her condition. You both!”

“It’s Jack,” Emily defended herself.

“Did I ever tell you that we should erect a statue to your son?”

“No, but he'd love the idea,” replied the man who'd been her superior just a few hours earlier.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much!”

She hugged them with unsuspected strength, while continuing to let her tears of happiness flow. The couple were happy to see her react so well.

“What about her brother?” inquired JJ.

“And the little blue hat, began Aaron, is Samuel Derek.”

All eyes turned to the Chicago native. Eyes wide with surprise, he'd lost his playboy-ish grin.

“De… Derek?”

“Yes, that way he's more likely to have big arms to protect his little sister,” justified the giant, repeating his offspring's words.

He saw the man who had been acting as his replacement swallow. The information was difficult to digest, and understandably so. The two men had always had a stormy relationship, alternating between mutual respect and sharp jabs, guided by the same propensity to defy authority and the same desire to mark their territory. And yet, despite all their clashes, the eldest had agreed that his second son would bear the first name of the man who coveted his throne.

“That's a mouthful, Mr. Stone-heart!” exulted Penelope, delighted by this sudden catatonia.

“Wow! he finally uttered, shaking his head. Thank you.”

He tried to hide it, but everyone saw his shining eyes. Emily spread her arms to encourage him to come back and give her a hug, and he yielded to her call without a struggle. A simple pat on the back with Aaron is enough for the pack's two alpha males. JJ rolled her eyes to hold back her comment on this all-male prudery.

“And who was born first?” asked Spencer.

“Louise,” the couple replied in unison.

___

If you want, I can give you the name of the snitch. :D

Well, here are the most beautiful babies of the Creation! /o/

Next and last chapter >>

[aprillikesthings]

Starting this fall I'm doing a four-year long class called Education for Ministry, which despite the name is not about becoming a minister. It *is* some of the same material covered in first-year seminary, but it's aimed at "laypeople" (aka not clergy) and isn't graded or anything. It's also run by an Episcopal seminary but it's not restricted to us--my group has a Methodist in it, and I think one other person who is "mainline" but not Episcopal.

Anyway. It involves a ton of reading from multiple books per week, and then getting together in a group (mine is on zoom, most are in person) once a week to talk about the reading and respond to conversation prompts.

And I need to decide (soon) if I want to use paper books vs ebooks. And whether I want to take notes on the texts via sticky notes or a notebook or in the books; or typing them up. (The notes won't be the kind used for studying for exams; we're encouraged to note when the text makes us Amazed, Bothered, Confused, or Delighted.)

And here's my eternal conundrum:

I know damn well I am more likely to do all the readings if I do them via ebook. I know I'm more likely to keep notes via typing (including highlighting/notes in the ebooks!). Mostly because that means I can do them at work, between phone calls.

But I really really love the aesthetic of paper books, dammit!

Also....wait now that I'm thinking about this. I'm doing it on zoom. It'll be a huge pain in the ass to try to look at the ebooks (which would require me to have amazon's in-browser reader open, I don't have a kindle and it's too small on my phone) while in discussions.

Also if I try one way and it isn't working I can just switch to a different way.

See this is why I write out things like this. I always somehow end up making the decision as I write/type.

Anyway I've managed to keep a paper planner/journal for most of the last three and a half years (no, really) in part by making the aesthetics cater to my very specific tastes (erasable gel pens with small nibs in a rainbow of colors, erasable highlighters with same, fuck-tons of washi tape and stickers, fancy notebook paper). So I might be okay re: EfM.

The first year has the most reading because we do the entire old testament. Second year is new testament, third year is church history, fourth year is theology and learning about other faiths. All four years are in the same group. I can (if I want) drop out and join back up next year, or drop my group and join another one at any point, because the material is standardized. So that's cool. The program is fifty years old now, which is amazing; but also it means they've had a lot of time to figure out how best to do this sort of thing.

ANYWAY there's a couple times per year everyone (no matter which year they're in) reads the same book, and this year one of them is James Cone's The Cross and the Lynching Tree, and Beyond A Binary God: A Theology for Trans Allies by Tara Soughers.

My other books this year (other than a study bible--and I already own a doorstopper of an NRSV Oxford Study Bible, with all the maps and translation notes and footnotes on cultural stuff, though I'll have access to one online as well) are A Short Introduction to the Hebrew Bible (third edition) and The Hebrew Bible: Feminist and Intersectional Perspectives.

I'm nerdy enough that all those book titles are making me just :D :D :D

ANYWAY if you really want to nerd out on this shit for some reason, most of last year's manual/guide is here, in pdf form

(I was side-eyeing the trans theology book a tad because it's written by a cis woman with a trans kid, but in reviews people point out it's entirely aimed at allies, not transgender people. Because while there are absolutely transgender people in our churches!, they've often already figured this shit out, and it's The Rest of Us who need to get with the program, so to speak. I just hope I'm not The Token Gay (who knows a ton of trans people) but knowing the Episcopal church...probably not gonna be the only queer lol.)

[blueskyscribe]

Okay, so I thought of two ways to rewrite the Sam and Nightshade scene to make it more interesting. But first I'd like to talk about why it didn't work for me.

Needs a conflict.

Sam needs better characterization.

(I know Sam is a one-off character who isn't going to get five pages of backstory. But Stevie was a one-off character in this same episode, and we got a lot more from him. Even a mini character arc.)

Okay, let's go!

Scenario #1:

I think Sam needs to bring the conflict to the scene. And one way to do that would to have her be biased against Transformers--in a more aggro way than Stevie, like a foil to him.

(Sidenote, I thought Sam deciding that she could trust Nightshade because they're nonbinary--not because they saved her from a mugger--was extremely silly. Queer robots can be evil; trans Skywarp would squash you where you stand.)

So in this scenario, Sam is less mild mannered and more of a punk. Leather jacket covered with patches with studs all over it! Chains around her neck! Wild hair! T-shirt with the arms ripped off and "SHE / THEY" written on it in magic marker. The "SHE" starts with the Stussy S that we all drew in middle school.

Punk Sam actually tries to fight the guy mugging her, but Nightshade sees the mugger has a gun and swoops in to save her.

So Sam is on the roof with Nightshade, putting up her dukes and trash-talking to cover how scared she is of this giant robot.

Sam: You want some of this, you dirty 'Con? I'll punch you so hard you'll fly all the way back to your home planet!

Nightshade: Please don't, I fear you will injure your hand. And for your information I am not a Decepticon and I am on my home planet. Rude.

Sam: Oh please! Everyone knows all the flying robots are bad guys.

Nightshade (raises an eyebrow): That is a gross generalization. And why exactly did this 'bad guy' robot *puts their fingers on their chest with a flourish* prevent you from being grievously injured by a miscreant?

Sam (reluctantly lowers her fists): Eh, I could've handled him. Why do you talk like that? You swallow a dictionary, green bean?

Nightshade: If only one could absorb words so easily! No, I simply read a lot. Though it does mean my siblings don't always understand me . . .

Sam: Buddy, you and me both.

And then Sam and Nightshade bond, and it turns out Sam has three brothers, one of whom doesn't respect that she's nonbinary and keeps calling her "little lady" to taunt her. Nightshade is shocked by the thought of family being unsupportive, but consoles her and encourages her to focus on the support of her two other siblings, of her friends, and most importantly to have faith in herself. (Also they paraphrase Tarantulas during this part because we love a callback.)

Nightshade is thrilled to learn the word "nonbinary", and before Sam departs, she self-consciously asks Nightshade if they can give her a ride in their owl form.

Nightshade: *arches a brow* Are you sure you want a ride from an "evil" flying Transformer?

Sam: Whaaat? Who said that? Point me at 'em, I'll punch their lights out.

Nightshade: *chuckles and transforms* That won't be necessary.

So Nightshade drops off Sam in her neighborhood, and the twist is that Stevie is actually one of Sam's (supportive) brothers, and she spots him just as he finishes changing the graffiti to "Transformers are home", and she nods approvingly.

Scenario #2:

Non-punk Sam; she looks the same as in the show except her pins are mostly space related, and in addition to the "she/they" pin she has one that says "nonbinary." Sam is also going to provide the conflict in this scenario, but this time the conflict is internal, as we will see.

So Nightshade saves Sam from the mugger and hovers in midair with Sam in their hand, fifty feet above the ground. This version of Sam doesn't quietly freeze when she's scared, she flips out.

Sam: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Nightshade: It's all right, you're safe now. :D

Sam: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Nightshade: Er, my name is Nightshade, my pronouns are--

Sam: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Nightshade (more and more desperate to calm Sam down, sees a pin on Sam's bag): Oh, "nonbinary"! That's a computer language, is it not?

Sam (stops screaming with comedic abruptness): Um, no? It means people who aren't female or male.

Nightshade (delighted): Oh my . . . like me!

Sam: Whoa, really? Me too. I mean . . . *gestures towards pins* . . . obviously, ha ha.

Sam: . . . *looks at the ground, still far below*

Sam: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Cut to a scene of the other Maltos, then cut back to Sam and Nightshade, who have now landed on a roof and are chatting comfortably. Sam is into astronomy and Nightshade, Science Nerd, is happy to learn new science facts.

Nightshade: . . . and so a moderate star such as our own sun can eventually expand into a much larger Red Giant? How wondrous! Oh, I must tell my siblings all this . . . *sighs* Yet I wonder if it will keep their interest.

Sam: *laughs* Science isn't everyone's thing, but there are lots of ways to enjoy the stars, you know? When I was little my parents and I would lie in the grass and look at the constellations.

Nightshade: The what?

Sam: Look, I'll show you *points* Trace a line between those four stars--

Nightshade: How?

Sam: *smiles* Just in your mind. They form a rectangle, right? Now look at that line of three stars beside it and imagine they're a handle. That's the Big Dipper. And the Little Dipper pours into it.

Nightshade: In my mind as well?

Sam: *laughs* Exactly. You have to use your imagination. Some people see them as something totally different, like bears or caribou, all kinds of things . . . and some constellations are even more abstract. Like check out Aries, the ram. *traces it in the sky* And over there, that's Tauros the bull. Those two stars are his horns, that one's his eye--

Nightshade: *gasps* Isn't a bull similar to a cow? Oh, I must show Tauros to my siblings! Praytell, are there any owls?

Sam: Not that you can see from here-- *phone buzzes as she receives a text* Hang on a sec . . . My mom's asking where I am.

Nightshade: Oh dear, I did not mean to make your family worry.

Sam: *finishes texting back* It's cool, I told her I'll be a little late 'cause I'm hanging with a friend.

Nightshade: *looks extremely flattered / pleased* I can give you a ride home, if you wish.

Sam: That would be great! Just one sec . . . *is removing the 'she/they' and 'nonbinary' pins from her bag and putting them in a side pocket*

Nightshade: Why are you removing your adornments?

Sam: Oh, uh, it's just . . . I don't want my parents to see, you know?

Nightshade: No, I do not. *clasps hands around knee, tilts head* Is it a surprise?

Sam: More like a secret.

Nightshade: They do not know you're nonbinary? *concerned* Would that upset them?

Sam: Oh, no. My parents are cool, they wouldn't be mad. It's just . . . *clasps her hands together, looks down at her lap* I don't know. I've always been 'their little girl' and I don't want to ruin that for them.

Nightshade: I don't understand. You are who you are. *remembers Tarantulas's words* And it is a gift to know yourself so young.

Sam: I think I know myself, but what if . . . *bites her lip* What if I tell my parents and then it turns out all their expectations were right and I was wrong? What if I disappoint them over nothing?

Nightshade: Perhaps they will not think that seeking the truth is nothing', or ''disappointing'? Regardless of what that truth turns out to be?

Sam: *sighs heavily* Sometimes it's just easier to be what you 'should' be. What people expect.

Nightshade: . . . *gazes at the sky* How beautiful are the stars.

Sam: Yeah . . .

Nightshade: Why, Sam! You were playing a joke on me, weren't you? There is an owl constellation.

Sam: *slight smile* Sorry N.S., not in this hemisphere.

Nightshade: I must correct you. I see it clearly. *traces stars with their finger* There is the wing . . . the eyes burning brightly . . . and another wing. Sentry, the Owl.

Sam: That's not a real constellation. You just . . . made it up.

Nightshade: What makes it less real than a crooked line that people call a ram or a rectangle they see as a bear? *deftly picks the she/they pin out of the side pocket* What makes this *puts their finger on 'she'* more real than this? *puts their finger on 'they'*

Sam: . . . *stares at the pin, then the stars, eyes wet*

Nightshade: *gently* The lines are not etched in the sky, but in our minds, are they not? And so what is to stop us from drawing our own? *after several moments* Ready to go home?

Sam: One sec. *takes the she/they and nonbinary pins and pins them back on their bag* Now I am.

[storyshark2005]

Oh I love this game!

Paul / "Who are you?" and Intermission: Heart sound fascinating! 💜

Thank you my friend!!! Let's see, the Paul fic will be fun for Oasis fans! But I'll talk about the other because I loved Smallville and haven't thought about it enough the last couple years!

(KEEP READING, if you like!)

"Intermission: Heart" is the middle part of this big fucking Smallville saga I started Fall of 2020; I don't have any of it published but it's like 160k+ words, and probably 80% finished, and it's both kind of a mess and maybe some of the best writing I've ever done. But the scope is big, I like that, I like big projects, and it's basically split into two novels. Here's a synopsis of Book I I typed up a couple of years ago:

The entirety of East of Eden’s story arc plays out over two books: ‘Book 1: In the Garden’, and ‘Book 2: The Land of Nod’. The first half of the story sketches a 2020 landscape of the characters a decade after we last saw Clark and Lex in the show Smallville, but leaves some of that established canon at the scrapyard. Lex never died when he destroyed the Fortress at the end of Season 7, but he almost did, and part of his salvation includes a different twist on the origins of his son, Conner. In this story, Lex made the plans to create Conner, but it is his half-sister Tess who finishes the job in order to give her brother a reason to keep on living. Tess creates Conner, the genetic hybrid of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent.

So one of the 'villains', is John Corben, in the DC universe he's Metallo. He's got a heart made of kryptonite, and it's a threat to Clark and to his son Conner. In the comics, John's a stock Superman villain, but Smallville at least attempted to give him a sympathetic backstory. They gave him a murdered sister, and made him a former war correspondent for the Daily Planet who worked in Afghanistan. And then through a series of comical yet touching events (Lex Luthor involved, of COURSE) he gets kidnapped and experimented on, and his heart and vascular system are replaced by a liquid kryptonite artificial heart, which was painful and tortuous for him. He basically takes his anger out from his sister's death, and his unasked for surgery, out on Superman. Even though Smallville post-Season 4 was mostly terrible, I really liked John.

So he's in my story. I won't spoil plot points, but "Intermission: Heart" is tentatively slated to act as a middle piece, a John POV one-shot that would slot right between the main two books in the series. I love it. I loved John's voice, and I had a lot of freedom with him. I made him born in central Kansas, I gave him and his sister a close bond over basketball, I made his mother bipolar and killed his father off with a heart-attack at fifty-two-- I gave him this weird, funny kind of odd-couple roommate relationship with another rogue's gallery villain named Winslow Schott. I gave him a romance that's totally nowhere in canon.

Anyway, I was always hoping to finish the second novel before I started publishing any part of the series, so I would love to do that at some point and get this out into the world.

SORRY FOR LONG WINDEDNESS but if you're still reading, here's a snippet!!

*****************

Winslow is a freak, but he’s a genius, too. He used to work for Queen Industries, but got fired because he was caught sneaking explosives into consumer products. 

Into children’s toys. 

He opens his life to John, sets him up in an extra bedroom in his basement apartment on the southside of town. The neighborhood is dark and dangerous, even worse than Becca’s old place. But the apartment is renovated and clean. There’s a spacious kitchen and a huge common living area, half of which is taken up by Winslow’s lab-- long black counters full of ongoing projects,  chemistry sets and piles of wire and batteries; weird, half-constructed robots and one-eyed dolls; Winslow talks to them and sometimes, they talk back.

In another life, John would have run the other way. But he isn’t the man he used to be. John doesn’t have any family left, he doesn’t have any friends, and his meteorite heart is failing. He can only stay awake a few hours a day, he shuffles around the apartment, leaning on walls and trying to keep food down. 

Winslow finally sits him down to have a real look. He gets the lead plate off easily, with a blowtorch and a hammer, and it’s a literal weight off John’s chest.

“It’s the meteor rock,” Winslow concludes, pushing his magnifying lens to the side. “The apparatus is burning through it too fast. It wasn’t designed to run long-term. Shoddy engineering,” he concludes, with a click of his tongue.

“Am I going to die?”

Winslow grins. “No. I’m going to fix it.”

Two days later, Winslow slots in a new central cylinder with freshly machined parts. He replaces all of the silicone fittings around the conduit and he even polishes the metal casing. He tells John he put in some kind of regulator too, so he shouldn’t get any more adrenaline spikes. It’s the most normal-- no, the most human John has felt since before he got hit by the truck.

John taps his chest experimentally. “And they call him the Man of Steel,” he jokes. It’s maybe the first one he’s told since Becca died.

“It’s not steel,” Winslow shakes his head from the kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull down a loaf of bread. “It’s some kind of new alloy. Alien, maybe. LexCorp was always messing around with alien technology. And kryptonite, of course.” 

“Kryptonite?” 

“Smallville meteor rock, from the shower in ‘89. That’s what they call it. Everyone from 33.1 was there because of the radiation exposure. It changes people, turns them into freaks.”

“Hold on--” John’s latent journalist brain is spinning, Smallville, LexCorp, meteor freaks-- 

John was only a little kid but he remembers his first-grade teacher pulling one of those TVs on a cart into the classroom, turning the lights off and explaining what was happening. And he remembers other articles, years of fallout, dead crops and cancer rates and other radiation-induced bizarities. He also knows LexCorp’s original headquarters were in Smallville, years before the big LuthorCorp-to-LexCorp rebrand in 2008. But he’d never heard of anything called 33.1. 

“What the hell is 33.1?”

Winslow stops and turns, knife halfway into the peanut butter jar. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

“But-- who do you think did that?” Winslow points his peanut butter-covered knife at John’s chest. 

John still remembers dying in the street, the taste of asphalt and blood and garbage, parts of his brain shutting down like lights going off in a house, one by one. 

“I woke up on a table...” No heart, more dead than alive. “What did you mean, LexCorp was messing around with kryptonite?”

“33.1 is LexCorp’s meteor freak experimentation program. They find people like you, or people who were changed by the rocks. And they keep them, run tests, experiments, whatever  you want to call it.”

“How do you even know about this--”

“Ollie Queen,” Winslow giggles, turning back to his sandwich. “He’s been trying to bring Lex Luthor down for years, but he could never get enough hard evidence to take him to court. But he was always letting things slip when he was touring the lab, shooting his big fat mouth off.”

“So LexCorp did this to me?”

Winslow licks his fingers and picks up his sandwich. “All I can say is that the parts were manufactured by LexCorp; that I am completely sure of.”

***