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djinnandtea · 9 months

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The Old Centaur's Almanac Guide to Romance

A human/centaur Solstice romance in three parts

Chapter 3 (Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

Helena refused to think too hard about her date. She didn’t allow herself to fret over what to wear, to be anxious about what would happen, or to fixate on whether or not she should trim any particular region’s body hair. At least, she tried not to think too hard or fret too much or fixate too often. She ended up putting on a fae-made green velour dress that fell past her knees, which she paired with her smartest pair of black boots. She had already concluded that the evening would likely involve dinner and some kissing and that was it, and so decided not to trim anything up, as there would be no one seeing her she’d feel the need to impress. Ten minutes to 6:00 p.m., she looked at herself in her full-length mirror, and was content. She looked nice. She smelled good. Any man would be lucky to have her.

She had managed to keep most of this confidence when there was a knock at her door at exactly 6:00 p.m. She checked her reflection a final time and then opened the door for her guest.

“Hello,” Alex said warmly.

“Hello,” Helena replied. “Do you want to come in?”

It was a tight fit, but Alex carefully stepped into her living room and turned to face her.

“Your place is a bit small, isn’t it,” he teased.

Helena rolled her eyes. “It fits me just fine. But I’ll grab my coat and scarf and we can get going. I assume we’re walking?”

“Unless you know how to ride,” Alex said with a wink.

She blushed. “I’m fine walking.” She couldn’t even imagine the alternative.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

Helena smiled. “So do you.”

It was true. Alex was wearing another beautifully made woolen sweater, this time a rich blue that bordered on black. Underneath the sweater he’d also donned a light gray dress shirt. His gray hair had been put once more into a braid, although this time it was a far more intricate weaving pattern.

“Is it a long walk?” Helena asked after locking her door on their way out.

“Fifteen minutes or so. I was being sincere, by the way. I don’t mind carrying you if you’re comfortable.”

“I think I’ll be all right.” Helena had specifically chosen a longer dress and boots that would accommodate warmer socks for this express purpose. Besides, she enjoyed a walk.

It helped that it was not snowing. It had snowed that morning, but stopped sometime that afternoon. The snow on the ground was still fresh and white, the roads far less busy than normal given the holiday. It was very much a winter wonderland, everything illuminated by fairy light and the moon that was near-full in the sky. Helena kept close to Alex as they walked and talked, and felt a swell of warmth despite the chill.

The fifteen or so minutes passed quickly. Alex was easy to talk to. He was easy to laugh with. He was easy to like. Helena followed him into his home and was comfortable quickly, because Alex continued to make things easy. The dinner he’d prepared of stew and roasted vegetables with fresh bread was delicious and filling, and Helena could easily see herself returning for another meal. She wanted to. They ate at his kitchen table, Alex sitting on the floor on plush mat for his knees and Helena in a chair, and every so often he took her hand in his and stroked her knuckles. It was easy to touch him. To be touched by him. Helena’s cheeks felt perpetually flushed with warmth, in part because of the mulled wine Alex had served her, but in larger part because of the way that Alex kept caressing the pulse point at her wrist.

She felt an intimacy growing quickly between them. She still didn’t know much about him, nor had she shared everything about herself, but their conversation continued to flow naturally.

“You’re making this very easy,” she said quietly.

Alex leaned back. “Is that all right? Am I moving too quickly?”

Helena shook her head and took Alex’s hand in her own. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I’m having a great time. To be honest, I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.”

The centaur sighed, relieved. “I’ll be back. It was never intended to be a long trip away.”

Helena’s eyes drifted to his lips as he spoke. They looked soft. Easy to kiss.

He must have had the same idea, because as Helena considered leaning in to see how soft they really were, Alex said, “Would it be moving too quickly to ask if I can kiss you now?”

Because Helena liked to be contrary, she replied, “And if I said no?”

Her words had the desired effect. Alex huffed and smiled the way she’d hoped he would, and then said, “I suppose I’d have to resist.”

“Then it’s lucky for you that you don’t have to.” She bridged the distance between them.

Alex’s lips were soft, and he turned out to be a very good kisser. His mouth moved against hers slowly, a delicious pressure. Helena was overwhelmed by the heat of it at first, despite having been the one to initiate, and she had no idea where to put her hands. Alex’s had found her waist, his strong fingers gripping at her sides. When his tongue pressed against her mouth, it was as easy as breathing to open herself up to him.

He looked as dazed as Helena felt when he pulled back from her, the pupils of his green eyes blown wide, his lips parted and shining. “Holy Oak, your gorgeous, Helena.”

She reached for him again, hands taking his face and pulling him towards her.

It felt good to be kissed. Helena’s body was heated and heaving for Alex’s hands, and when he placed one at her back and one at her ribs, she didn’t think twice before taking one of her hands from his face and using it to guide his up over the swell of her breast.

“Am I the one moving too fast now,” she breathed, forehead resting against Alex’s. “You did say historically this isn’t the pace you take.”

“You’ve inspired a new leaf. This is too fast for me only if you don’t want things to go any further.”

Helena felt a string of panic. “I can’t have—I haven’t been taking anything.”

He understood. “That still leaves an awful lot on the table, if you’re interested.”

She was.

“Then take your clothes off,” she ordered. “I mean, you’re already half-naked. What’s with that, by the way?”

Alex laughed. “Let’s unpack my dressing habits later.” He stood, towering over Helena, and then scooped her up into his arms. “For now, let’s move this to the couch.”

He carried Helena as if she weighed nothing, and then set her down gently on the couch in his living room.

“Why do you even have this?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“The place came furnished, and it’s nice for my non-existent guests. Now, tell me again what you want?”

She looked up at him. “To see you. All of you.”

Alex wasted no time in pulling off his sweater and then tearing at his dress shirt. Buttons popped as he tugged at them, and Helena felt exhilarated at the sound of each one clattering on the hardwood floor. In a moment that felt both impossibly long and short at the same time, Alex was entirely naked in front of her.

“Better?” he asked.

Helena looked up and down the planes of chest, appreciating the salt and pepper hair that covered his pectorals, trailing down to where his body transitioned from man to horse, and shrugged noncommittally. “I guess it’s not really that much of a difference.”

Alex clucked his tongue. “You’re mean.” He knelt down so he could be closer to eye level. “And are you getting naked or not?”

Helena looked at him, her hands drifting to his chest. “This dress unzips in the back.”

“Then stand up.”

She did, and then faced away from him slowly. She felt his hand trail up her back, felt it push aside her hair, felt it come back down to the top of her dress. She heard the snick of the zipper as he began to pull it downwards, the feather-light touch tickling along her spine. Rip it off! she wanted to scream. I want you to see me! But aloud, Helena said nothing. She bit her lip and waited as patiently as she could for Alex to finish unfastening her dress and it tug it off of her body.

“Next time we do this, I’m going to fuck you,” he said quietly against her ear, making Helena jump. She’d had no idea he’d moved in so close.

“You’re awfully confident,” she said back. “What if you’re a lousy lay?”

Finally, Alex pulled the dress from her shoulders, and then all the way down to the ground, leaving her exposed in her underwear and tights. She stared into the fabric of his couch as his fingers deftly unhooked her bra.

“I’m not,” he said, turning her around to face him, and then pulling her bra entirely away.

The brush of air against her nipples had them pebbling quickly. Her breath hitched when Alex kneeled in front of her. Her chest rose and fell with anticipation. Standing fully while Alex kneeled meant Helena was taller than him. His head came up to her chest, which she was even more aware of when Alex pulled her closer to him. He looked up at her through his lashes and kissed her naked sternum.

“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Please.”

“I want—I want—” Her words stalled in her throat. She wanted everything. She didn’t know where to start. “I want you to suck.”

He took a nipple in his mouth immediately. Helena’s hands wrapped around his neck and head as she audibly gasped and pressed him harder against her without thinking. Alex worked her like no one had before. His lips pulsed rhythmically around her, his tongue lapped in time. Alex used one hand to massage at the part of her breast that didn’t fit in his mouth, and the other to slip down the back of her tights and panties to grab at her ass. In response, Helena’s hips began to grind fruitlessly against what part of Alex they could reach. There was no fiction to be had, but a pleasure in seeking it out all the same.

Alex moved from one nipple to the other, and the pleasure began anew. It was maddening. It was wonderful. It was nowhere near enough. Helena’s hands scrabbled at his shoulders, wanting to touch more of him, to feel more of his skin. She wanted to let her hands roam over his back and down, down to the rest of him. To feel his beautifully patterned fur under her finger tips. To feel the brush of his tail. To see and feel the length of him.

“I need to touch you,” she said, voice weak. “Let me?”

Alex released her nipple and looked up at her. “How do you want me?”

Helena thought about it. “Standing, maybe?”

He nodded and stood quickly. He looked a wanton mess as he moved. His cheeks were flushed, his lips were swollen, and when he raised himself up, Helena could clearly see his unsheathed cock hanging heavy and full between his legs.

“Holy shit,” she said.

Alex looked down at himself, and then back at Helena.

“It is a bit…well—maybe I should have asked if you’ve ever been with a centaur before?”

Helena shook her head. “No, this is a first.”

Alex placed his hands on either side of Helena’s face. “Please don’t worry about…anything. You don’t have to touch me there if you aren’t ready.”

“I want to touch you there,” she said quickly, her own hands rising to rest on Alex’s hips. “I’m not sure what I was expecting. You took me by surprise.”

Alex chuckled. “I seem to remember telling you my kind were blessed by Priapus. I can’t help if you didn’t believe me.”

“Rude centaur.” She stood up, becoming eye-level with his chest. Then she moved to his side.

It felt somehow different to touch Alex here than on his bare chest, despite the fact that his chest was the part of himself that had been the least on display since she had met him. Helena wondered if that was because his human chest was still more of a known entity to her than his equine half, even though she’d seen it repeatedly. She’d had little experience with horses before she was stollen, and was unsure of what to expect as she gingerly placed her hands against Alex’s side and curled her fingers in the short fur she found there.

“Is it terribly unkind if I admit that you’re softer than I thought you’d be?” She moved to rest her cheek alongside her hands.

“No,” he answered. “I’m glad you like the way I feel.”

“I do.” She removed her cheek and continued her exploration, her hands stroking slowly down to Alex’s flank.

“You’re quite close to my ass, you realize,” he said. There was an unsteadiness to his voice that told Helena he was excited by that fact.

She snorted. “I do, thank you.” She moved her hand down underneath his belly, dangerously close to something else.

“What about now?” she asked.

For a moment, Alex didn’t reply. Helena waited with her hand poised just under his cock, waiting for permission to proceed.

“Please touch me,” Alex gritted out. “For the love of Hawthorn, please touch me.”

“Since you said please,” Helena murmured, taking Alex solidly in one hand.

He was laughably large. Helena had to fight back a laugh when she moved her palm down to the base of him, and realized she could not close her hand. Still, Alex’s cock was lovely, and only a little strange. While it was impossibly wide at its base, it was more reasonable as it tapered down to its head. And while Helena had been expecting something entirely horse-like based on the books she may or may not have perused while at work, Alex’s cock was more like a regular human’s once she got past the girth and length of it.

Above her, Alex shifted on his front legs. “I’m begging you to do something other than just hold it like that. Helena, love, please.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just. Priapus has given me a lot to take in.”

“Try using two hands.”

It was sound advice. Helena took Alex in both hands and began to work him.

“Oh, fuck,” he said as she worked, and Helena had to smile at his use of human slang.

“Is this all right?” she asked as she gripped him, one hand sliding down to massage the head and collect some of his wetness.

“Very,” Alex said. He shuddered as her finger encircled the tip. “Holy Oak, Helena.”

Helena didn’t imagine her fumblings were that impressive, but she appreciated Alex’s emphatic support. She continued to move up and down his shaft, thumbs working over his slit to milk out more of his pleasure.

“Can I try something else?” Helena asked after a few minutes.

Alex laughed shakily. “Helena, you have my permission to try whatever strikes you.”

“I want to finish undressing first.” She was feeling a little ridiculous still wearing her tights and shoes.

“Excellent idea,” agreed Alex. “Sit on the couch and I’ll do it for you.”

She followed his direction and sat back on the couch. She watched Alex kneel in front of her again and then bend to undo her boots. She leaned back and admired as he carefully set them aside and removed her socks, and she gasped when—instead of pulling down her tights with the same care—Alex simply ripped them off of her.

“I liked those tights,” she said, eyes wide.

“I’ll buy you any number of new ones.” Then he leaned in and kissed her.

This kiss was not like their first. It was harried and messy. Desperate. Alex wedged a hand between them as he kissed her and moved it down to her stomach.

“Can I?”

“Jesus, yes. Sorry I didn’t trim things up for you.”

Alex scoffed. “I don’t think I could care any less about that.” He looked down at her, his fingers spreading open her center. “I think your cunt looks perfect.” He kissed her again.

Helena knew she was going to be wet, but even she was surprised by the obscene sound of Alex circling his fingers around her clit.

“Do you hear that?” he growled against her mouth. “I think I could slip my fingers inside of you without a hint of resistance.”

Helena fought for control of her breath and gritted out, “Prove it.”

It was hardly a challenge. Alex sat back and threw one of Helena’s legs over his shoulders, and immediately—and easily—slid two fingers into her dripping pussy.

“See,” he said with a grin. “Easy.”

“Fuck, Alex.”

It was good. Not nearly so good as his cock would feel whenever they got to that point, but still altogether wonderful. Alex fucked his fingers inside of her with purpose and practice. He knew where to apply pressure and when to pull back. And he knew—he had to have known—that as soon as he pressed his mouth against the bud of her clit, it would be game over for Helena’s orgasm. One lap of his tongue, and Helena felt her earth tilt slightly off its axis. It was a deliciously dirty trick.

“Alexandros,” she said as her body shook through its release. And shook, and shook, and shook.

The aftershocks were still rolling through her when Alex gently he set down her leg and moved back into her space. “At your service, love.”

“No,” she said with an unsteady shake of her head. “It’s my turn. It was supposed to have been my turn in the first place.”

“I’d say sorry, but I’m not. Watching you come was a glorious thing.”

She pushed at his chest. “I want to see you do the same.”

He leaned in for another kiss. “All right, Helena. I’m at your disposal.”

She knew exactly what she needed him to do. “Get your front legs up on the back of the couch.”

It took a little effort, and there was one accidental nudge against Alex’s member that had him gasping at the unexpected touch, but he managed to position himself with his front legs resting on the back of the couch so Helena would have easy access to the part of him she wanted. It was a little awkward, she could admit, Alex’s face entirely out of sight, and the bulk of her visibility blocked out by his groin, but the moment Helena placed the head of Alex’s cock between her lips, and felt the whole-body shudder that ran through him as a result, all awkwardness was forgotten.

Though the head of Alex’s cock was smaller than the base, she still felt the size of him. She couldn’t fit much more than the head in her mouth, and even that was testing her limits, but the heft against her tongue was electric. She sucked as best she could, hands priming his shaft for release. The taste of his pre-cum filled her mouth, the mix of it and her spit dripped down her chin as she pulled him out momentarily to breathe. She was aroused again by the entire experience, made more intense by the obvious way that Alex struggled to maintain composure.

Helena could tell he was fighting to buck his hips. Every few seconds he shifted on his back legs, forcing Helena to grip tighter to his cock to keep it from moving too deeply down her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, voice thick with desire. “I’m trying to stay still. It’s just, your mouth—” His hips attempted to buck again.

“It’s okay,” she said, stroking under his side. “I like seeing you like this.”

She moved the head of his cock against her lips, painting her mouth and chin further with the wetness there. Then she dragged the tip down, raising her breast to meet it, her nipple grazing his slit.

“Holy Oak, Helena,” he said again. “I’m close.”

Helena considered this. “Can you—can you kneel down some?”

Alex’s only response was to do exactly that. Helena shifted herself as well, spreading her legs wider on the couch and pushing her hips upward.

“I just want to feel this for a moment,” she said, moving Alex’s length down her chest and stomach, and then down further still, all the way to where his mouth had been minutes before.

“Helena—” he moaned as she pressed the tip against her clit.

She let it sit for only a moment before dragging the head of him down her pussy once, then twice, then a third and final time.

“I can’t wait until you’re inside me,” she said as she moved his cock back up to her face. “But for now, my mouth.”

She took him between her lips again. She could taste herself on the head, a heady combination of flavors. Above her, Alex fought harder to keep from fucking deeper into her mouth. She could hear his staccato breath and feel the way he pulled himself back immediately after every time he jerked uncontrollably forward. Part of her wanted him to stop fighting it. The part of her overwhelmed with desire for him, to have him as fully as she could, wanted him to simply fuck into her mouth with abandon, caution be damned. She knew she couldn’t take him, but she wanted to try. She had to fight her own urges as determinedly as Alex was fighting his.

It was an unsustainable kind of pleasure. When Helena felt Alex begin to groan, when she felt a pulse through his cock in her hands and mouth, she knew what was about to happen. She pressed her tongue along the underside of the head a final time before beginning to pull him out of her mouth. She wasn’t fast enough. The tip was still barely between her lips when his orgasm hit, his thick and copious cum filling her mouth and running out the sides of it. He was still coming when she pulled him fully away, the warm wetness of his seed spilling onto her chin and her chest and her stomach. Helena could do nothing but laugh at the mess of it.

“Holy Ash, Alex.”

Carefully, Alex moved off the couch and collapsed on the floor in front of it. His head rested against Helena’s knee. “Holy Ash, indeed. All are you all right?”

Helena smiled and stroked his head, letting her fingers dance over the strands of his braid and run gently over the backs of his ears. “I’m wonderful,” she said. “Sticky, but wonderful.”

Below her, Alex huffed. “I should have warned you.”

“I did some research,” she said. “I mostly knew what to expect.” She looked down at herself, surprised all over again at just how much Alex had coated her. “You really did make a mess of me.”

“And the couch, too, I’m sure.” Alex ran a hand up and down her shin. He tilted his head to look up at her. “Will you stay the night with me?”

Helena’s cheeks warmed. “As long as you let me clean up first.”

Alex snorted. “A fair trade. That was wonderful, by the way.”

Helena yawned, the events of the evening catching up with her. “Yes, it was. And I’ll say this, Alexandros: this was probably the best Solstice night I’ve ever had.”

Alex pressed a soft kiss to her knee. “Well, thank Oak for that.”

#monster romance #monsterfucker #monster lover #teratophillia #monster smut #the old centaur's almanac guide to romance #monrom

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milflewis · 1 year

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47 - yuki n pierre

47: games

“Did you see the Reapings?”

Lewis shrugs off his coat, throwing it over the hook by the door. He leaves his boots, thick soled and steel capped, beside Valtteri’s scuffed dirty ones. “Yeah, as I was going down on the Councillor, he was watching the broadcast,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Valtteri leans his head back on the couch cushion, the low blue light of the tv soft across his cheeks. His neck is a long line of pale skin. He grins. “I don’t know how good you are. Could be a bit boring.”

Lewis hums, walking over, feet socked and quiet on the carpet, hands coming down to either side of Valtteri’s face. He ducks down until he can count freckles, memorise the blond sweep of his lashes.

“I can give you a demonstration if you want.”

Valtteri’s smile widens, quirking up at the corners. “Pity I don’t have any secrets left to give you.”

Lewis laughs for the first time today, throat dry, and swings himself over the couch. His elbow knocks into Valtteri’s hip who just shifts so Lewis is leaning more against him, the cushion dipping slightly between them. “Yeah,” Lewis says, turning to face him. “A pity.”

Valtteri only raises his left thigh a little so Lewis has an easier time sneaking his cold toes under, before turning the volume up. “Watch,” he says, and Lewis watches.

—

“Your boy is a shit liar.”

Sebastian grins and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” even as he swallows back a wince at the barely a peck of a kiss that Pierre gives Yuki.

God, he’s seen better chemistry between Jenson and a microphone. Lewis laughs as if he knows what Seb is thinking.

He sprawls beside him. Lewis’s woolen jumper, something burnt orange and deep blue, is soft against Seb’s bare arms. Lewis takes his glass and knocks back half of it, frowning slightly when he realises it’s water.

Seb makes sure to keep his eyes on Lewis’s face, ignoring how his hands don’t shake because Lewis’s hands never shake, not when he drove that trident through his ally’s chest before they could kill him, not when he crowned that Victor of his a few years previous who laughed when they gutted the tribute Lewis had been mentoring. Lewis’s hands don’t shake, not then, not now, but his knuckles are bone white where he's holding the glass, and he’s moving like he’s forgotten how much space his body takes up.

He’s just been from a client then, Sebastian knows. A bad one.

So, he knocks his shoulders into Lewis’s, ignoring the heat and smell of him, and rolls his eyes when Lewis calls Pierre ‘Peter’. He knows Lewis knows. And Lewis knows Seb knows that he knows.

—

The cannon goes off and Pierre’s world tilts on its side. He breaks into a run, forgetting the bird, forgetting about the three other Tributes hiding somewhere in this arena, screaming Yuki’s name.

Yuki slams into him, shoulder jamming under Pierre’s arm. The force of him nearly knocks Pierre over. His eyes are wide and terrified. It’s like looking in a mirror.

Yuki’s hands are warm and damp on Pierre’s forearms. The liquid looks suspiciously like blood. Pierre blinks. Nightlock, he thinks. I could’ve lost him, he thinks.

“Did you eat that?” Pierre asks and Yuki’s eyes are so fucking wide as he shakes his head.

“Are you stupid,” Pierre tries not to scream at him but he doesn’t think he succeeds. “That shit is lethal, Yuki, what were you thinking?”

“I.” There’s a slight cut along the side of Yuki’s nose, bruised dark along his neck, and his hands are covered with berries, not blood. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Pierre grabs him, digging his fingers into Yuki’s shoulders, hair soft and dirty against his jaw. He smells of earth and sweat and blood. He smells of death. Pierre can’t breathe around this feeling. “You scared me,” he says, quietly into his hair and Yuki holds him right back. It feels like a secret even with all these cameras around them, picking up on the slight change in their breathes.

You’re mine, Pierre thinks. You’re mine now.

—

Lewis watches as Pierre holds one of his hands up to his mouth, the berries dark and small in his palm, eyes bright and clear. That’s a dead man’s stare, Lewis thinks and the thought sounds like Niki. Pierre’s other hand is gripping Yuki’s wrist tightly, pressing the berries against his lips, knuckles bone white. Yuk i is watching him, something that looks like awe and this horrible kind of grief in his face.

Sebastian is still beside him, hands tucked under his legs as he leans forward in his seat. Lewis slouches, yawning, letting his legs fall open, ankle brushing off of Sebastian’s. Valtteri knocks back the rest of his drink, looking at the tablet in his hand. Sebastian’s shoulders relax.

The speaker in the arena crackles and the boys’ hands stop moving. Yuki is still watching Pierre as the taller man grins, quick and quiet and folded back into a frown in a blink. Lewis bites his cheek and leaves his foot where it is.

—

“I did know Arthur. He wasn’t just my ally. He was my friend. I see him in the flowers that grow in the meadow by my house. I hear him in the mockingjay’s song. I see him in my brother, Charles. He was too young. Too gentle. And I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”

Pierre stands there, broken and small, thousands of eyes trained on him. He does not blink.

He tucks his hands into his pockets so they cannot see them shake.

—

“Actually, I painted a picture of Arthur,” Yuki says, “How he looked after Pierre had covered him in flowers.”

There’s a long pause at the table while everyone absorbs thus. “And what exactly were you trying to accomplish?” Sebastian asks in a very measured voice.

“I’m not sure. I just wanted to hold them accountable, if only for a moment,” says Yuki. “For killing that kid.”

—

“We’re a team, aren’t we?” Jenson asks, blue lining his eyes, cheeks hollowed and glittering. His eyes are wide and sad but his voice doesn’t shake. “And I’m so proud of my victors. So proud.”

There is a mockingjay curled around his left ear, the metal unusually dull and grey. “You both deserved so much better.”

Jenson looks them both in the eye, jaw tight, lips pressed white. “I am truly sorry.”

—

“What did he want?”

Yuki’s face is closely shaved, skin dry and smooth. Pierre wants to run his finger along the line of his jaw. He’s grinning, eyes bright.

“To know all my secrets.”

Pierre laughs, impossibly light and easy, as Yuki rolls his eyes and says, “He’ll have to get in line.” Yuki’s smile grows smug and small at the sound.

—

Pierre is looking at him like the world has come to an end. Lewis knows exactly what that feels like, and Pierre still has a lot of losing left to do if the world is ending.

—

Making knots. Making knots. No word. Making knots. Tick-tock. This is a clock.

Do not think of Valtteri. Do not think of George. Do not think of Yuki. Making knots. They do not want dinner.

Fingers raw and bleeding.

Lewis finally gives up and assumes the hunched position he took in the arena when the jabberjays attacked. Pierre perfects his miniature noose. The words of The Hanging Tree replay in his head. Valtteri and George and Yuki. Yuki and George and Valtteri.

“Did you love Sebastian right away?” Pierre asks.

“No.” A long time passes before Lewis adds, “He crept up on me.”

—

The bread had been burnt and tough. It had gone down sharp when Pierre had eaten it after the boy had ran back into the shop, eyes dark and hair wet. It had tasted of muck.

Pierre had opened his mouth, tilting his head back, when he finished, drinking down the rainwater.

The weeks after Yuki chokes him, his throat stings and scratches, like it had when he ate that bread.

—

George is laughing, mumbling to himself. Pierre doesn’t bother trying to stop the door from slamming shut behind him. George doesn’t look over.

He’s stealing the morphine from the drip of the patient beside him, Pierre realises. He drops in a nearby chair. His head hurts. So does his throat.

“Don’t you have your own?”

His voice still sounds weird.

George rolls his eyes, a flash of movement in a thin face. He has lost all colour. They’ve bleached it out of him somehow. His cheeks cut into his mouth.

“They’re cheap bastards, this thirteenth district. Don’t you know we’re victors!” He cackles, one arm throwing back in a grandiose gesture to an audience that isn’t there. His wrists are bony and bruised. The words echo.

Pierre leans back in his seat, feet kicked up on the bed, and closes his eyes.

He’s nearly asleep when he feels a blanket tucking around his ankles.

—

“You think I will lose?”

Everything he had said back then had come out as a fight, a stretched out fist waiting to be tapped so he could throw the first punch. Except when he was in front of the cameras. There he could make himself sound sweet and small and just the right kind of feral.

Michael Schumacher had laughed, a bruise faint under makeup along his jaw, a glass of clear liquid in his hand. Lewis would’ve bet his right hand that it was water even if Michael was doing a fantastic job at the glassy eyed slack mouthed look.

“No,” Michael had said, shoulders broad, voice clear. He had looked Lewis dead in the eye, the younger man half his size, and there had been something quiet and tired in his face. “No, I don’t think you will.”

He had been the only one who hadn’t. The only one who looked at a just barely fourteen year old boy and saw someone willing to do anything, to do it all, and was able to do it to get back home.

There are so many things Lewis would’ve liked to have asked Michael. Would’ve liked to have known what it was about watching Lewis win, watching and helping Sebastian win two years later, that made him pack up and run, his kid under his arm.

Though, Lewis thinks, watching Mick sweep his arm across the war table, their pieces devastatingly small compared to the Capitols, hair shorn short, cheeks thin. If he’s being honest with himself, he already knows.

—

“There’s still time. You should sleep.”

Unresisting, Yuki lies back down, but stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side.

Slowly as he would with a wounded animal, Pierre’s hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. Yuki freezes at his touch, but doesn’t recoil. So Pierre continues to smooth back his hair. It’s the first time he has voluntarily touched Yuki since the last arena.

“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.

“Real,” Pierre replies. It doesn’t feel like enough. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.”

After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.

#well . this just all came spilling out lol #hunger games au #yukierre #sewis #anon tag #niamh.asks

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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A Christmas Journey ~ Tommy Shelby (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: A Journey back from London in the Christmas Season with his secretary doesn't go as planned

Note: written for @runnning-outof-time and her Holiday Bingo Challenge . You always have such incredible ideas for us to join in on celebrating your milestone - congratulations! I chose forced proximity, a family tradition, subtle hurt/comfort, and (self) confession

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 2473 words

The outside looked like one of these paintings one could buy in a collection to hang in some corner of a large room, a quiet, calm, peaceful scenery, an image of the countryside snoozing under a blanket of freshly fallen snow, coating field, house, and trees alike.

It was the kind of cold that ought to make one stark a fire and climb under a blanket, warm tea in hand.

Only it wasn’t a painting, and to Tommy Shelby, there was nothing calming about it.

The cold, especially a cold like this, meant problems, and problems meant a slowing of work, of traffic, of business. And he had neither time nor means for that.

The end of the year, of any year, meant hastily signed contracts, quickly closed deals before the new tax year would start, as well as end-of-year obligations, useless mingling for Christmas parties, dinners, company celebrations, and the like, as well as the demand of anyone and everyone wanting a piece of him.

It meant he was stretched out even more so than usual.

A particular contract that needed signing before the New Year had made him rush to London earlier today, taking only his suitcase and one of the Birmingham Secretaries with him. That way he had time to fill her in during the train ride there about what was going to be discussed in the meeting.

She was fairly new, and more a typist than a secretary, with quick, nimble fingers that could dance over the typewriter at a dizzying speed.

Now she was quite a sight, bundled up against the cold in a thick coat, with scarves and gloves, and a hat that drowned out her face.

She had taken those off once inside the train compartment and was now removing her coat as well, revealing what looked to be a home-knitted woolen cardigan.

Tommy glanced up from his reading, a business report about the annual revenues from one of his factories, as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, only to see she had changed her mind, instead offering him an embarrassed smile.

With a hum he returned to his reading, only to see her scoot about on her seat out of the corner of his eye.

“Mr. Shelby?”, she asked after a moment, unable to keep still “Is there any task you have for me during our ride back?”

Tommy considered for a moment, but there was no way she could transcribe with the bumpy up and down of the train, so he shook his head.

“Would it bother you if I did some knitting then?”, she asked, reaching for her hand.

“It’s a tradition in our family - my Ma’ always makes sure we get a new pair of socks in each year’s stocking and this time I wanted to surprise her with a pair of her own, even though it’s a bit foolish.”

She offered him an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not much good so I’ve had to start over.”

“Fine.”, Tommy grumbled.

What a silly gift, he thought, remembering the knitted socks from his earlier days. They had been warm enough, but not perfectly so.

Bothersome to mend, and too thick in good shoes, he had had no qualms about throwing them out a few years back in exchange for softer, more delicate Merino socks, which were just as warm.

“Thank you!”, she said, beaming from ear to ear as she reached into her bag and pulled out a ghastly dark red ball of wool, and two brown needles, a good half sock hanging from the edges.

Before she began, she scooted closer to the light source of their compartment, bringing her right across from him.

Tommy’s eyes returned to the numbers and comparisons, as the clicking began.

As if the rattling of the train hadn’t already been enough.

It was persisting, never-ending, click click click, click click, click click click.

After a few minutes, even the hiss of the wool made his jaw tighten in annoyance.

The lines on the paper became impossible to read with the neverending sound.

Click click click, click click click, hiss, click click click.

Always uneven, always unpredictable.

It was a sound to make a man go mad.

“I’ve changed my mind.”, Tommy said sharply, snapping the file shut. “Can you stop?”

She looked up, needles in hand, with thread wrapped around her finger, her eyes wide and round as dinner plates.

“Oh.”, she gasped surprised, staring at him in disbelief for a split second before she cleared her throat and nodded.

“Of course Mr. Shelby, I’m sorry, Sir.”

She scrambled to tidy up, hastily twisting the needles and sticking them back into the ball of wool as if she was afraid he’d open the window and toss it out if she wasn’t quick enough in the removal of his ire.

“No need to apologise.”, he mumbled.

The moment he opened the file again, they heard the brakes screech as the train came to a slow halt.

For a split second, there was silence all throughout the train. Then the both of them looked towards the window, seeing only darkness.

They were in the middle of nowhere.

Her whispered “Oh no.” gave voice to Tommy’s thought.

“Wh-what just happened?”, she asked breathlessly, her hands clutching onto her brown leather bag.

“I’ll see what the conductor says.”, he muttered as he got to his feet. “Just stay here.”

A delay was the last thing he needed when all he wanted was to get home, make the calls to Boston and New York, finish revising that speech, and - there was something else that he knew he had forgotten, but he knew it would come back to him.

But unless they got moving soon, it wouldn’t matter at all.

The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a train with a good half hundred strangers, and in a compartment with his little typist.

That strange feeling of irritation and subtle anger spurred him on as he walked nearly half of the train before he found someone in charge, already swarmed by a dozen other passengers.

He was lanky as a tree, with a narrow face and small piglike eyes.

“Please, Ladies and Gentlemen, stay calm!”, he assured them all, both palms outstretched. “Retake your seats, I am sure we will resume the journey shortly. There is no need to be concerned.”

That did little to block off the hail of questions, to which his only response was to flair his hands as if they were all little flies bothering him.

He had to practically shove them back into their respective compartments all the while nodding and repeating his meaningless babble over and over.

Tommy stopped his flight to the head of the train.

“What’s going on?”, he demanded to know.

“There is no need for concern!”, the conductor told him, “I am sure the journey will resume-”

“The name’s Shelby.”, Tommy hissed, undercutting any attempt of him to repeat his speech for the umpteenth time.

The man’s little eyes went wide.

“Oh, well, in that case, Sir, well,”, he began to stammer, wiping his hands on his uniform.

Tommy raised his brows in impatience, urging him on.

The man’s face turned the colour of his uniform.

“Due to the snow, Sir, they are having to clear a railroad switch ahead of us before we can continue safely. It will only be a moment Mr. Shelby, Sir.”

Tommy gave a single nod and patted him on the shoulder before returning to his compartment, thankfully first class, which meant it was mostly abandoned this time of night, with only his secretary being the other one.

“And?”, she asked breathlessly, getting up from her seat as soon as he entered.

“It’s fine.”, Tommy assured her, before sitting back down again.

Even though the door blocked out most of the noise, the restlessness and uncertainty found its way into their compartment, infecting first her and then him too, and more so with every passing second.

“You know,”, she mumbled after a near half-hour of tense silence and stolen glances out the window, “There’s stories about this happening in the United States. They can’t get the train to work again and the people freeze to death.”

“It’s not the train.”, Tommy told her.

Besides, it wasn’t that cold. Sure, it was chilly, but nothing compared to the winters spent in the trenches, unable to properly get a fire going. Here they were dry, with a roof over their head and coats and scarves to warm them.

His secretary didn’t seem convinced. She kept craning her neck to look out the glass door for any sight of any possible change, her hands nervously picking at her bag.

It was making him nervous too.

“We won’t freeze to death either.”, he assured her dryly.

“Are you sure? Because it already feels a lot colder if you think about it. And we are out in the middle of nowhere. No one will know where we are and-”

She shut herself off at the sight of his gaze and quickly averted her eyes, her hands still fidgeting nervously, her whole body shaking.

What an easy life she must’ve had for a mere thing like an unplanned train stop to put her in this state.

But then again, she was so young, part of this new, reckless generation who had been little more children during the war. And it was all too easy to paint the world a bit brighter for little ones, to hide the nasty truth behind soft lies and gentle facades.

And now the girl was unsettled by a little train delay, poor thing.

Tommy had suffered half a dozen a ride on the trains that carried him back and forth during his time in France.

Still, when she began trying to breathe heavily to steady her nerves, he felt a pang of pity in his chest. And her nervousness was beginning to irritate him.

“Why don’t you take up that knitting again?”, he asked.

“Oh no, I don’t want to annoy you.”, she quickly said, shaking her head.

Tommy huffed, a twitch in the corner of his lips.

“I’m not reading, so it won’t bother me.”

She was slow to reach for her bag, surveying his every reaction.

Tommy made sure to give none as she reached for her things, and slowly began to knit again, her eyes darting from her work to his face and back, eager to see any sign of disgruntlement.

But when she found none, she slowly settled into her knitting more and more, until she was fully focussed on that.

Tommy allowed himself to watch. The repetitiveness in the motion, even if the sound had irritated him earlier, seemed to calm him now.

Especially watching the tips of the needles work together, settled his heartbeat.

It wouldn’t be the most perfect sock, which was clear to see even now, but the longer Tommy watched, the more times she repeated it, the more he felt the idea growing on him.

But his words, or rather the fact that he said them out loud, even if it was just a mumble, surprised him.

“I don’t think it is foolish.”

The clicking stopped as she looked up.

“I beg your pardon, Sir?”, she asked.

“Earlier,”, Tommy explained, “You said I’d think it foolish. I don’t. It’s a sweet thing to do for your mother.”

She bit her lip and lowered her hands, growing flustered at his words, with a smile forming on her lips.

“Oh I don’t know.”, she admitted, “I do hope she likes it, but in the end it’s just a little part of Christmas. Our Christmas I mean.”

She offered him another shy smile.

“It’s not as grand as your Christmasses, I’d wager. With a ten-foot tree and a hundred baubles but it’s nice.”

Tommy hummed in response, as he let his eyes find the darkening landscape.

These days his Christmasses were like stepping into a glossy catalog, every inch of the house decorated, countless candles shining, a hoard of wrapped presents with large bows, steaming meals, and more sweets than anyone could ever eat in a whole year, let alone a few days. Every treat, every delicacy, it was all right there.

As it should be, a part of Tommy thought, the part that was proud of all he had achieved and that he could share it with his family, with his son. He alone would receive a dozen presents worth more than a factory worker’s annual wage.

But another part eyed those slightly uneven socks closer.

They were far from perfect, and yet every loop was laced with care and effort.

The memory of the socks his mother and Polly had knitted for him in years past, which he had thrown away as soon as he could afford to, made shame creep up his cheeks.

He already knew what he would get from them this year - cufflinks from Polly and a tie needle from Ada to match, expensive gifts, undoubtedly. Like every year.

Expensive, flashy gifts for an expensive flashy holiday. And that was it.

Nothing close to the memories of his childhood, even if they were feeble and poor in comparison, but at least they had been excited about it, about the food, about the oranges they would sometimes receive, about snow, even about the hymns they’d sing, less for the meaning and more of them all doing something together.

Singing together, cooking together, decorating together - and now the cooks did the cooking and the maids the decorating.

All Tommy did was pay. Like with any other day.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his chair and shook his thoughts.

There was no need to deprive Charlie of all the presents he could afford, anything he could enjoy. But perhaps the boy would want to do a little more than merely opening and receiving gifts.

Perhaps he’d like a little tree to decorate on his own, just a little one, even if it ended up not nearly as perfect as how Frances would instruct the maids to do it. But then again, those socks wouldn’t be perfect either.

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to enjoy the idea.

Maybe they could even take the horses out into the forest and he could pick one for them to cut down.

Just as it had taken hold in his mind, they heard a mechanic screech before the train slowly started moving.

“Oh thank God!”, the secretary cried out, dropping her needles in her lap and offering him a relieved smile.

But Tommy’s mind was already back in that snow-coated forest to the back of Arrow House in which Charlie would choose their Christmas tree. A proper one, not flashy and big, but real.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @alex-in-the-wilderness @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik

#valentineswritings #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby fic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #a christmas journey #k's 2.5k holiday BINGO challenge

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ravendruid · 7 months

Text

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 29

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Happy belated Valentine's day <3 (I promise I didn't plan this!) Summary: Time to dress up for Keyleth's date with Vax.

The week rushed by like rapids, especially when, on Miresen morning, every single one of Keyleth’s teachers reminded their classes that the clock announcing finals had officially begun ticking. One month. Keyleth had one month to prepare for what she assumed would be the worst week of her college life. She could only hope her teachers took pity on the first years. By that evening, Keyleth had a meticulously developed study schedule, color-coded by class, to help her organize her time. Would she be able to keep up with it, though? She had to. The last thing she wanted was to fail a class and have to repeat it next year. She decided to try out the schedule that week, rotating between the library and the quiet apartment and inviting her roommates to study with her—which Vax’ildan almost always gladly accepted.

The exception happened in the middle of the week. Although the holiday itself wasn’t widely celebrated in Emon, the Night of Ascension was still a holiday for those who celebrated, so the University had given them the day off classes. That day, Keyleth, Percy and Pike decided to occupy a table at their favorite café, staving off the snow that fell outside with steaming cups of hot cocoa. She had asked the twins to join them, but Vax had explained to Keyleth, alone in his bedroom as he bundled up with the hoodie Keyleth loved so much and a thick woolen scarf that had seen better days, that he and Vex’ahlia had a tradition to pay homage to their mother during the holiday, so they would be going to the nearest temple to make an offering, and then go out for a meal and celebrate their memories of Elaina (Vax had finally shared his mother’s name with her). Keyleth pondered asking to join them and do the same for her mother, but she figured that it was something the twins preferred to stay between just them. Besides, neither she nor her mother were particularly given to deities.

But the week rushed by nonetheless, and on Folsen evening, when Keyleth opened the fridge and saw a container with freshly made soup and a sticky note from Vax (I hope this helps you stay warm), the girl was ready to put on a pair of fuzzy socks, her warmest pajama and curl into a ball on the armchair and read until her eyelids drooped. Alas, her dream was interrupted by footsteps walking down the corridor as Keyleth removed the steaming bowl from the microwave.

“Oh. Hi Kiki,” Vax greeted. He was wearing a new long-sleeve pajama shirt (black, as usual), a pair of black sweatpants, and his hair was braided away from his face—it was about time that he heed not only Vex’s but also Keyleth’s advice about braiding his hair before bed.

“Hi, Vax. Thank you for the soup,” Keyleth nodded in gratitude. She sat at the kitchen table and started to eat. Vax joined her, sitting on the chair in front of hers, elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“How were classes?”

“Exhausting.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Vax asked smugly. Keylth looked at him confused, then remembered they were going out… on a date. “Please don’t tell me you forgot about our date?” Vax asked, outraged, seeing the look of realization on her face.

“No... I—I’m sorry.” Keyleth apologized, embarrassed. Vax merely laughed and shook his head. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh. What should I wear?” Keyleth asked, trying to get any possible clue from him.

“Something comfortable and warm.” The answer didn’t reveal anything substantial.

“What time are we leaving?” Keyleth tried another route.

“Do you think eight is too early?” Keyleth shook her head. She was used to waking up early, even during the weekends, so it wouldn’t make a difference in her schedule. “Then, we need to leave the apartment at 8:30.”

“Why so early?” Keyleth asked, finishing her soup.

“It’s a bit far and we need to take transportation. It’s going to be a whole day thing, so you might want to clear your schedule.”

Somewhere so far away that they needed to take an early transportation, that would last the entire day, and that she needed to bring warm, comfortable clothes? Where the hell was Vax taking her? “Should I bring anything special? Food? Entertainment?” Keyleth pushed further.

“We can make some sandwiches and bring snacks for the day. Water, too. As for entertainment, that’s what I’m there for, right?” Vax winked. Keyleth blushed and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I’m sure you will,” She teased. Vax slapped the table softly and grabbed her empty bowl. Keyleth got to her feet, wanting to stop him, but he waved his hand at her in dismissal and washed her dishes for her. Keyleth couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip at how caring Vax was to her. He had made her dinner, kept her company while she ate—even though he looked like he had been ready to go to sleep—and washed her dishes afterward. I don’t deserve someone so good like him.

“You should go to sleep,” Vax said to her, wiping his hands on the towel. He approached Keyleth and kissed her forehead before he turned to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, Kiki,” he said and disappeared towards his bedroom. Keyleth stood in the kitchen, watching Vax walk away. Only when his bedroom door shut behind him did Keyleth release the longing sigh she had been holding and grabbed her bag to head to bed. Keyleth thought she was going to have trouble sleeping due to anxiety, so the faster she went to bed, the sooner she would fall asleep. However, Keyleth wasn’t expecting the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, a sensation that seemed to calm her more than agitate her, so she fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow.

—

By the time Keyleth walked into the kitchen the next morning (her personal backpack open in front of her in preparation to get stuffed with snacks), Vax’ildan was already at the stove, stirring eggs and plopping two slices of bread in the toaster. On the island sat an evidently larger backpack—a camping backpack—seemingly full and ready to go. Keyleth stumbled on her feet, coming to an abrupt stop as she gawked at Vax’s bag, then at hers, so small in her hands. She didn’t have time to say anything because Vax was already smiling at her and greeting her.

“What’s that?” Keyleth asked, all manners forgotten.

“Our stuff for today.”

“That looks—”

“Heavy? Don’t worry. It’s mostly light items. I made a few sandwiches, packed snacks, water and a thermos with peppermint tea.” Vax said nonchalantly, dividing the eggs between two plates. “Don’t worry, I added a lot of honey to the tea,” He added, seeing Keyleth’s stunned face.

Vax set the plates with scrambled eggs and toast on the table and returned to grab two mugs of coffee. Keyleth finally set her backpack down—now completely useless—and sat at the table. They ate in silence, Keyleth avoiding looking at Vax too much, and then she left him to do the dishes while she returned to her bedroom to finish getting dressed.

They left the apartment at exactly 8:30—like Vax had planned—after Keyleth replaced her small backpack for her regular knitted crossbody purse with just her personal belongings. Since the sun was shining bright and warm in the clear, blue sky, Keyleth left her thickest jacket behind in exchange for a crochet cardigan with sunflowers covering a beige high-neck shirt and a crochet dark green skirt. She pondered wearing pants for a moment, but then she found a pair of thick winter tights, and her problem of wanting to look cute and fight off the cold was easily solved. Meanwhile, Vax was–well… Vax (still incredibly hot, as usual, nonetheless). He wore his regular black, ripped pants, leather jacket and boots. The only difference was that he had replaced his band and graphic t-shirt for a seemingly brand new plain black high-neck shirt, so tight that Keyleth had held her breath when she first saw him before he put on and buttoned his jacket.

They took a bus not far from campus, mostly filled with old ladies who gave the pair a weird look—which Keyleth knew was due to her overall sunshine personality, Vax’s dark and broody appearance and the camping backpack he carried—and they sat in the empty back, Vax setting the packed bag between his legs. They stayed in silence for a while, watching the city pass by slowly. People walked on the sidewalks, bundled up in their snow coats and scarves, couples held hands and stopped to watch the shop windows, and children threw balls and built snowmen in the park they passed by, much like what Keyleth and her friends had done a few weeks before, and which, eventually, led to her being in that empty bus, sitting so close to her crush—more than that, actually—that she could practically hear his heart beating in his chest.

“It’s such a nice day,” Keyleth said, more to herself than to him. Vax hummed. His hand found hers on her lap and he took it, intertwining his fingers with hers. Keyleth still looked out the window, now more to try to hide the blush in her cheeks at the gesture. Vax had been so touchy since last weekend… since he shared so much of his life with her. It was like he couldn’t bear to not touch Keyleth, as if her skin on his calmed him. Keyleth wasn’t complaining. She loved every touch, every chill down her spine, every kernel of warmth and softness that emanated from Vax, and she never wanted it to end.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me?” Keyleth asked twenty minutes later when the city landscape outside had given room to large fields and forests. They had officially been out of the city limits for five minutes, and she still didn’t know where Vax was taking her.

“What if it is?” Vax teased, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling mischievously at her.

“Then I regret to inform you that my father will not yield to any ransom requests. Unless you would like a chicken or two in exchange for giving me back.”

Vax snorted and brought her hands to his lips. He kissed each knuckle softly and then said, “I doubt your father wouldn’t give all the money in the world to have you back, Kiki.”

Keyleth wasn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks was because of his gesture of the implication that Vax knew her father loved her so much he would ruin his finances for her.

“Our exit is coming up,” Vax announced, releasing the grasp in her hand and getting to his feet. Keyleth followed him down the aisle, and when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere, where the only sign of it being a bust stop was a single pole with a hanging sign, Vax gestured for Keyleth to descend before him, following her as he shouldered the backpack.

“Now I’m really concerned,” Keyleth said, looking around. They were surrounded by tall trees on a single road with practically no traffic. She had no idea where they were in regards to the city proper, but it was clear they were somewhere remote.

“Do you trust me?” Vax asked, extending his hand to her. Keyleth’s answer was weaving her fingers through his and walking by his side in silence.

During their short walk parallel to the road the bus had taken, Keyleth glanced sideways at Vax, who looked relaxed and smiled so brightly he could supply enough energy for a small town. His mood was contagious, and soon Keyleth found herself relaxing and smiling as well, walking hand-in-hand with him down the sidewalk and then up a smaller road.

“No way,” Keyleth exclaimed as they reached an ornate iron gate connected to rock pillars. Above it, high enough where a tall van could cross without touching it, was an iron sign that said Emon Botanical Gardens. Keyleth couldn’t hold her joy at the sight of it, and neither could Vax, apparently, because he was shaking with excitement at her reaction, grinning brightly at her, eyes shining like ambers.

Keyleth squealed in delight as they approached the portico, where a woman waited at the ticket booth. Vax stepped ahead of her and exchanged a few words with the woman that Keyleth couldn’t hear—although, from the look of it, they were familiar with each other—and then signaled her to the barriers that opened on their own accord.

“What?” Keyleth asked, surprised, crossing it behind Vax.

“Students don’t pay entrance,” Vax explained.

“Do you come here often?” Keyleth asked as he walked towards a large wooden board with the map of the park. She stopped abruptly in front of it, gaping with an open mouth at how large the area was.

“Vex and I came here often when we needed a break from the chaos of the city,” Vax explained, picking a pamphlet from the holder. “It’s really peaceful. Here,” He handed Keyleth the pamphlet. She opened it to see a smaller-scale map of the park on one side and short descriptions of what the park contained on the other side.

“This park is huge. We’re not going to be able to see it all today,” Keyleth pointed out, noting all the smaller flower gardens, the several ponds and fountains, the orchard and forests of different kinds of trees. “There’s a waterfall?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. “And a butterfly garden!” Her excitement turned up a notch if it was even possible. Keyleth loved butterflies.

“Where would you like to start?” Vax asked, smiling at her. Keyleth pointed at the greenhouse not far from there, and he nodded. He let her lead the way, even though he probably knew the garden so well that he didn’t need a map anymore.

The greenhouse spawned over a long distance, covering plants from all regions in Exandria, from flowering cacti of the Marquesian deserts to blooming flowers of the Zemni Fields and even a few darker, mysterious flora from the distant lands of Xhorhas. No matter where Keyleth looked, she was welcomed with fragrant scents, a rainbow of colors, and a whole new universe she wanted to explore until the end of her days. She took several minutes to photograph flowers and plants she had never seen before and write notes on the notebook app on her phone, setting up a mental note to return with her camera and a proper notebook. When Keyleth finally uncoiled from where she had been squatting for ten minutes, photographing and copying information from the small description sign next to a bloom of snowdrops, Vax coughed to get her attention. Keyleth’s head snapped in his direction. She had completely forgotten why and who she was there with, so a blush spread on her cheeks as she apologized to Vax bashfully.

“It’s okay. It’s adorable.” He brushed it off, holding out his hand for her to take. Keyleth grabbed it, looking at Vax inquisitively. “Let’s go. I have a surprise,” Vax said, pulling Keyleth with him.

They exited the greenhouse through a side door onto a gravel path. Keyleth’s excitement built up quickly once she saw the first signs pointing in the direction they were going, saying Butterfly House. She found it weird that the butterfly house would be open in the winter since she hadn’t read anything about it in the pamphlet, but maybe it was climate-controlled so they could have viewings year-round. However, Keyleth’s excitement and hope died a little when their path was closed by a barrier, where a note hung from the middle: “We regret to inform the butterfly house is closed until further notice.”

“Vax, what are you doing?” Keyleth asked as Vax transposed the barrier and held out his hand for her. “It’s closed.”

“I know. Trust me,” Vax said. Keyleth followed him down the last of the gravel path and then onto a smaller side path that led to the back of the building. She had no idea where Vax was taking her, but Keyleth trusted him with her life, so she followed as he squeezed her hand tighter in his grip.

“Hello there,” A man greeted the pair when they turned a corner. Keyleth came to an abrupt stop behind Vax, bumping against his back. Shit, we’re screwed, Keyleth thought, knowing they were trespassing.

“Hey!” Vax greeted the man back. He let go of Keyleth’s hand and dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door she realized the man was holding open. Vax then walked towards the man and hugged him tightly. Keyleth finally took a good look at him. He was smiling kindly at them, crow’s feet around his eyes. He seemed to be in his early forties, perhaps, with sun-dappled skin, wild and crazy-looking dark hair, and a black beard streaked with gray, neatly kept in two braids.

“Is this the lady I’ve been hearing so much about?” The man asked Vax, looking around his shoulder to Keyleth with an even fonder smile. Vax laughed and nodded. He extended his hand to call Keyleth over, wiggling his fingers.

“This is Keyleth,” Vax introduced when she laced her fingers with his. Up close, Keyleth could see the man’s glowing blue eyes and all the signs of someone who had a happy life, even if labored. “Keyleth,” Vax continued, pointing at the man, “This is Kerrek.”

“Kerr is fine,” The man said, extending his hand. Keyleth took it. The handshake was strong but soft at the same time as if Kerrek was holding back on her. His hands were calloused, and there was some dirt under his fingernails, confirming the hard labor Keyleth assumed he did.

“Nice to meet you, Kerr,” Keyleth said politely. Vax had never mentioned him, yet the man seemed to have heard about her. She tucked the information in a mental file to ask Vax later.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Vax asked, nodding at the building. The man nodded and replied with a wink, “Go ahead lovebirds.”

Keyleth blushed, but Vax chuckled. He looked at her nervously and pulled her inside the building with him, the door closing behind them. The temperature changed immediately, and Keyleth was forced to discard her cardigan with Vax’s leather jacket, leaving them on a bench by the door, and pulled the long sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. She then followed Vax down a dimly lit hallway to a second door.

“Ready?” Vax asked her. Keyleth swallowed hard and nodded.

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected, but walking into a brightly lit, hot and humid jungle was not it. The roof was a domed glass that let the bright winter light in without any of the cold, and everywhere Keyleth looked was covered with trees and plants, vines and moss. Once again, she allowed Vax to guide her down the tiled path until they came to a rounded room fully enclosed in class. In the center, a stone bench acted as a barrier to flowers and greenery, and around them—

“Oh. My. Gods.” Keyleth whispered, still not believing what she was seeing.

Butterflies—dozens and dozens of butterflies—flew everywhere, from branch to branch, between flowers and vines, up on the glass ceiling and around the walls. Vax led Keyleth into the middle of the room with a soft hand on the small of her back, stopping by the stone bench. Keyleth spun slowly in place, noting every color, wing shape, and different type of butterfly.

“You might want to close your mouth before a butterfly flies in,” Vax teased. Keyleth snapped her mouth shut but didn’t look at him, still mesmerized by the display.

“Vax, this is—” She stopped herself. A small swarm of five butterflies dove to her and landed on her hair and outstretched arm. Keyleth swallowed a squeal of delight as she turned to face Vax and brought a beautiful blue-winged butterfly between them.

“That’s a morpho peleides,” Vax offered. Keyleth nodded, still awestruck.

“Their wings aren’t actually blue, but—”

“Iridescent, yes. It’s caused by a diffraction of the light from the—”

“Tiny scales on its wings.” Keyleth finished. She looked up at him, surprised that he knew about it.

“I’ve been coming here for a few years. I’ve learned a lot about them,” He explained coyly. Keyleth swallowed, feeling a wave of warmth flow down her body. The butterfly beat its wings and took off to a high branch. Keyleth followed it with her gaze.

“It’s beautiful,” She whispered, still looking at the emperor on the other side of the room.

“You’re beautiful, Keyleth,” Vax whispered back. She whipped her head back to him, only to realize he was so close to her that their breaths mingled with each other. Vax brought a hand up to cup her cheek and leaned in, making Keyleth’s stomach jump.

Oh gods, is this happening?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. Yes. Yes! A million times, yes!

“Please—” She practically begged.

Time stopped, or maybe it was Keyleth’s heart that stopped. Something stopped, for sure. Keyleth’s eyes drifted closed, and she surrendered herself to the warmth of Vax’s hand on her face and the firm hold on her waist as his lips touched hers. The kiss started soft and tentative. As if Vax was scared. Keyleth’s hands slid up Vax’s chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, full of longing and something else Keyleth’s brain could not decipher in that moment. Some time passed, although Keyleth couldn’t tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or days. But eventually, Vax broke the kiss, his piercing gaze on hers, assessing her. Keyleth smiled against his lips, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. Vax opened his mouth to say something, but Keyleth shushed him before he could utter a word by kissing him again.

Keyleth poured all the intensity of her need for Vax into the kiss. Although she had no idea what she was doing, she had read quite a few romance books, so she pulled all that knowledge off the pages and kissed Vax passionately. When her tongue brushed against his lip, Vax opened to allow her in, the hand on her face lowering to join the other on the small of her back, pulling her harder against him. Keyleth could feel every inch of Vax’s body, her tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth until it met his tongue and started a dance she didn’t know the steps for. Keyleth stopped leading, then, and started following Vax’s experienced instructions. The heat on her body was overpowering, but it was Keyleth’s happiness that screamed the loudest in her ears, together with the thrumming beating of her heart.

When they finally pulled apart—when Vax pulled apart—they were both panting, eyes wide as saucers fixed on each other, and smiling. Keyleth willed her lungs to work faster and reminded her heart to slow down, lest she pass out from sheer emotion. Her legs were trembling like reeds on a storm, and if it weren’t for Vax’s firm hold on her, Keyleth would surely fall to her knees in front of him.

“That was—” Vax tried, but his breath was still ragged. Keyleth chuckled and nodded, rubbing her nose against his. Their breaths were warm and sweet like a summer night, Vax’s kiss-swollen lips so, so inviting. Tempting. “Gods, Kiki. You’re—” Vax didn’t finish. He leaned his brow against Keyleth with closed eyes and breathed slowly. Keyleth did the same, following his lead once again. He smelled so good and felt so warm and cozy, just like home. “You’re going to be the death of me, Keyleth.”

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth giggled. Vax kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” She confessed.

“Me too.” Vax tugged at the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back, twisting and turning the hem between his fingers. Keyleth gave him a questioning look that made him swallow nervously. Finally, after taking a long breath that puffed against Keyleth’s lips, Vax said, “Kiki, you know I’m in love with you, right?”

Oh. Keyleth’s heart almost leaped out of her chest. It was one thing to feel the love Vax didn’t hide from her, and a completely different thing to hear him say it (like actually say it). Keyleth let her hands slide down from his shoulders and splay on his chest. The jack-rabbit beating of Vax’s heart on Keyleth’s palm made her smile softly as she spoke, “I know. And I–I think I feel the same way.”

“You think?” Vax asked. His tone wasn’t mocking but uncertain.

“I’m scared,” Keyleth admitted, at last, the feeling she had been trying to repress for a while. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone before and it’s so scary.”

“I know,” Vax replied. His thumbs rubbed tight, reassuring circles on Keyleth’s back.

“My dad was so devastated when my mom died. I—I‘ve never wanted to feel that, or worse… make someone feel like that. I–” Keyleth hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I never thought I would have what they had. I never thought someone was going to fall for me, or that I would fall for anyone. I promised myself when I was young that I would never fall in love and yet…”

Vax smiled. He rubbed the tip of his nose on Keyleth’s and said, “I understand completely. You know about my father. I don’t have the best examples of what a loving relationship is. I never thought I would ever find happiness in my life, much less something so pure as love. We don’t have to be in a relationship, Kiki, but if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be with someone… yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Vax brushed a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Keyleth smiled fondly at him, basking in the feel of his touch, but her smile faltered as she asked him a question she had been dreading.

“And what if I’m never ready?” Knowing that Vax’s answer could mend or break their future was enough to send her spiraling, so Keyleth closed her fists on his shirt, keeping her aloft, keeping her mind steady and grounded.

“Then I’ll always be here as your friend. I’ll only take what you want to give, Kiki. Never more than that.”

“You would stay?” She asked, her voice wavering.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Keeks.” Vax replied, kissing her forehead. Keyleth slumped into his embrace, sliding her arms under his armpits and holding tightly. She waited for the first signs of the imminent panic attack to retreat down to her stomach and vanish. Only then did she uncoil to her feet, releasing Vax completely, and smiled.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“You’re very important to me.” Vax pulled away, but instead of completely letting go of Keyleth, he twinned his fingers with hers and asked, “Are you ready to head back into the cold with me?”

Keyleth nodded and allowed him to pull her with him, retracing their steps to the back door, where they put their jackets back on and Vax slung his bag back on his shoulders. Kerr was still waiting outside, moving crates and boxes when they exited. He turned to Vax and Keyleth with a fond smile, dropped a box on the ground and walked to pat Vax’s back.

“Make sure you and your sister come over for dinner soon, will you? You’re welcome too, Keyleth.” Kerr added, turning to Keyleth.

“Oh. Thank you for the invitation.”

“I’ll talk to Stubby and let her know,” Vax replied.

“It was nice meeting you, Keyleth.” Kerr extended his hand. Keyleth took it again, shaking it softly with a smile.

“It was nice meeting you too.”

Vax and Keyleth spent the rest of the morning wandering through the multiple flower gardens, fountains and ponds, albeit sad-looking in the middle of the Winter. When the sun reached its apex in the sky, Vax took Keyleth by the hand down a secluded gravel path and into a small clearing of pine trees (the few trees that still had their canopies). Vax removed a thick blanket from the bag, spread it on the floor, and sat down, patting the ground between his legs for Keyleth.

“I should have known you were bringing picnic stuff,” Keyleth said. She sat between Vax’s legs facing him, her legs crossed between them. Vax took another blanket from the bag and set it on her lap, covering both of them.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to have an outdoor meal with you?” He scoffed. Keyleth didn’t reply. She grabbed the thermos of tea he passed her and took a sip. It was sweet, just the way she loved it, and it warmed her from the inside out. Vax then grabbed two sandwiches and a bag of chips, and they ate while observing the nature and enjoying the quiet. They didn’t run into many people during their walks in the garden, which Keyleth could only assume was due to the cold weather and the fact that most of the plants were dead.

“We should come back in the spring,” She said after a while.

“I already planned on bringing you back.”

“So, what’s the story with Kerr? How do you know him?” Keyleth asked, passing Vax the thermos.

Vax took a sip of the tea, closed the bottle and set it by his side. He then lifted the blanket from his and Keyleth’s legs and gestured for her to turn around. Keyleth did, scooting and resting her back against his chest. Vax covered them again and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest on her stomach, where he started rubbing circles with his thumbs. Keyleth basked in his warmth. She could never get enough of the feel of Vax’s arms draped safely around her.

“Do you remember what I told you about what happened with Vex?” He asked her. Keyleth nodded. She knew it was a difficult subject for him. “Well, after all that, Vex and I decided to leave Emon for a while. We found this garden. We lied and told them we were high school students, and they believed us. Mostly because we looked like high schoolers. We found this spot right here, secluded enough that no one could stroll into us, and we made it our place. We had a small tent big enough for us and Trinket.”

“One day, Kerr caught me after the park closed, but instead of calling the cops on us, he extended a helping hand. At first, he invited us to have dinner with him and his wife. Hot homemade meals were hard to come by at the time, and Vex was getting thinner every day, so I said yes. They heard our story, and just like you, they grew angry at our father. But most of all, they felt bad for us and wanted to help us.”

“That’s really nice of them,” Keyleth said. Vax nodded. He buried his cold nose in her neck, making her squeal.

“They asked us to stay with them until we came of age, but Vex and I… we had been living on our own for a while, and we—we might have been too proud to take such a huge offer. But we did accept a job offer to work here, and we enrolled back at the highschool, using Kerr’s home address as our location. We often went to Kerr’s for warm meals and never refused their invitation to stay on cold and rainy nights.”

“Kerr and his wife treated us like we were their own children. We finally caved in and moved in for our final year of highschool. They even motivated us to go to college and helped us apply for scholarships and everything. Their house is a home to us.”

“I’m glad you found them. I’m glad Kerr didn’t call the cops on you.” Keyleth said, turning her head to see Vax. She nuzzled her nose against his jaw, making Vax smile.

“I’m glad too. I don’t know if we would still be alive if it weren’t for Kerr.”

“I’m glad you are. It brought you here… to me.” Keyleth whispered and gave Vax a soft peck on the lips.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?” Vax nuzzled against Keyleth’s neck. She giggled and nodded in response. “Did you make your skirt?”

“I did. But my grandma made my cardigan.”

“They’re so pretty. You’re both very talented.”

“I’ll make you something one day,” Keyleth promised.

“Are you cold?” Vax asked, tightening his embrace.

“No. I’m never cold when I’m with you. You’re always so warm and cozy.”

“Hmm. Same. You’re like a ray of sunshine. You’re so happy and cheerful. It’s contagious sometimes.”

Keyleth thought about his words. People often said she was a ray of sunshine, that she lit up any room when she walked in, but Keyleth didn’t feel that way. She was happy. Keyleth did feel joy in life and enjoyed being around her friends and family. It was the moment she was left alone that Keyleth dreaded the most. When she was by herself with her thoughts, her fears and grief. She had witnessed a few episodes where Vax had preferred to be alone, where his mood was extra broody and grumpy. She understood that better than Vax probably thought.

“Kiki?” Vax called her. Keyleth turned sideways, buried her head in Vax’s chest and grabbed the jacket on his stomach. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Keyleth mumbled against his chest. Vax’s hands cradled the back of her head and he pressed a kiss to her hair. He stayed like that and waited until she finally spoke again. “I’m not as much of a ray of sunshine as people think I am. I also have bad moments—bad days, even.”

“I know. I’ve noticed your moods.”

“You have?” Keyleth asked, looking up. Vax nodded and caressed her hair down her back. “You must probably think I’m a fraud then.”

“You’re not a fraud, Kiki. Not everyone can be happy all day, every day. I know you try hard to hide the bad side, but you can trust us… you can certainly trust me. I want you to be yourself when you’re with me, even if that means you’re picking at the skin of your nails or chewing on your lip and the inside of your cheek. I won’t be bothered by your jumpy knee or your shuffling around on your seat.”

Oh shit. Vax knew all her fidgets. Was she really that obvious, or was he just very observant? Keyleth always tried to hide her anxiety in front of everyone, and she was almost sure that she did a good job at it, but she had always been more relaxed with Vax. She had always felt safe with him. Of all people, Vax would be the one to understand Keyleth’s faults the best.

As if he read her mind, Vax added, “You and I aren’t that different, Kiki. Depression and anxiety often go hand in hand.”

“I suppose I might have some of yours, too,” Keyleth admitted. It wasn’t for nothing that her father had made her see a professional when she hit puberty.

“And I have some of yours. It’s perfectly valid to have them both, and if someone ever gives you grief about it, tell me, and I’ll punch them.”

Keyleth snorted at the offer. Some of the weight on her chest lifted, but there was something heavy keeping her from being blissfully happy: finals. History proved that academic high-stress situations were not good for Keyleth. “I don’t think you can punch our professors or finals.”

“Ah. Is that what’s eating at you? Here I was, thinking you were freaking out because I’m extremely handsome, and I make your heart almost leap out of your chest.” Keyleth looked at Vax to see him smirking at her. Her face reddened in response. “You’re going to do great, Keeks. You’re smart, talented, and a great student. All our professors love you. If anything, you’re going to do so good that they will need to expand the grading system just to accommodate your knowledge.”

“You’re exaggerating, Vax. I’m not as smart as you or Pike. And I’m falling behind in Anatomy. You’ve seen my midterm grade.”

“Fine, the human body doesn’t agree with you. Does it matter? Are you in Biology for it or for plants, Keyleth? Didn’t you say you were going to drop Anatomy next year anyway?”

“Yes, but I still want to have a good grade,” Keyleth all but pouted at Vax. Couldn’t he understand the high expectations other people had on her? She had always been a top-of-the-class student in high school, and people expected her to maintain that or do better in college, never to go below their standards.

“Keyleth, love. You had a 16 in the midterm,” Vax grabbed her shoulders and looked at her earnestly. “All your assignments have been above 18–and yes, it counts even if I helped you. Even if you have another 16 in your final, you will still get at least a 17 at the end of the semester. I know it’s not as good as an 18 or a 19, but you are still in the top five students in Anatomy, and I know for a fact that you, miss I-will-not-rest-until-I-have-straight-20s, are the best student in your degree.”

When Vax put it like that, Keyleth had to concede to his logic. She knew that she would need a really bad grade on her final to drastically lower her final grade in Anatomy and the general average, as a consequence, but even though it was a low possibility, it wasn’t impossible.

“Fine.” Keyleth pushed Vax away and got up, straightening her skirt. “I guess you’re right.” She said and walked away from him. Keyleth didn’t need to turn her head to see the look of confusion on his face, but she still peeked and threw over her shoulder, “Let’s go see the waterfall… unless you’re done with our date?”

She laughed as Vax scrambled to his feet and packed everything inside the backpack. He was by Keyleth’s side in a matter of seconds, holding her hand and dragging her down the path. Keyleth giggled at his reinvigorated spirits, feeling slightly better herself, too. Vax was right, she knew that, and while she still had a hard time letting go of that particular anxiety, Keyleth knew she had in him a safe harbor.

“Vax?”

“Yes.” Vax looked at her expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I might barge into your room this month to ask for reassurance. Is that okay?” Keyleth bit at her lip. Vax let go of her hand, only to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her to a stop. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, giving Keyleth a soft, ghostly peck on the lips that made her want more, and said, “I can’t promise I’ll be decent, but my door will always be unlocked for you, Kiki.”

“Good,” Keyleth whispered against his lips. “I might come to collect some hugs then… even if you’re not–decent.”

The kiss was sensual and unhurried, filled with promises of more kisses to come, hugs to be given, and reassuring words to be whispered in the dark. By the time they arrived back at the apartment, lips red and kiss-swollen, the subject of finals was completely gone from Keyleth’s mind, instead filled with the scent of pine trees and snow and the wonderful time she spent with Vax in nature all day. A much needed-rest before the chaos.

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #modern au #college au #be in my eyes #three notes about this chapter:#1. I don't know shit about plants and butterflies. So if something is wrong don't yell at me #but feel free to correct me (gently. I'm sensitive)#2. the grading scale I used is from 0-20 where 20 is the highest grade possible.#this is the grading scale I'm most familiar with #3. The butterfly area was inspired by animal crossing new horizon's butterfly section in the museum.#particularly the round room with the fountain.#Also by the time y'all read this I will probably have some news to share :P

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27dragons · 9 months

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New Year Countdown: Dec 29

We're getting so close to the end! The randomizer wanted this to be a Dreamling Wingfic AU, but I only gave wings to Dream. But it's okay, because I addressed it in the worldbuilding! ;)

Dec 29 - Dreamling - Wingfic AU - Snowman

Hob was nearly finished with his creation when the heavy whoosh of wings told him that his lover had arrived.

“Hob?”

“Over here, dove!” Hob waved his arm.

Dream walked over the snow, avian bones light enough that he barely left a dent in it, though Hob was wading through it nearly to his knees. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a human building a snowman before?” Hob hefted a large ball onto onto the second figure to make its head, somewhat taller than the first.

“I had heard of them, but we do not often stay during the winter months, if it can be avoided. These are snow-men?” Dream asked. His head cocked slightly as he studied them. “They do not look much like men.”

Hob laughed. “Well, give it a minute.” He got his rucksack and retrieved a scarf, fraying at one end and with excessively uneven tension. He wrapped it around the shorter snowman’s neck, then went back to the sack for a couple of large buttons to use for eyes and a carrot for the nose. “Did you stay when your family went south just for me? You didn’t have to do that.”

Humans and avians didn’t often interact, much less become lovers. Hob had known Dream for years before daring to call the avian his friend or even dream of more between them. There were still finding their way, at times, though it became easier with each interaction, Hob thought.

“Not... only for you,” Dream said. “But you were part of my calculation. Should I have gone?”

“What? No!” Hob abandoned his snow art for long enough to ruffle his fingers through Dream’s sleek black feathers and drop a kiss on the pale cheek. “I’m glad to have you with me. I’d be sad if I thought you were suffering to try to make me happy, is all.”

Dream’s wings stretched wide and then folded again, his equivalent of a shrug. “I would be suffering more had I chosen to go,” he said. “But I cannot claim to not be suffering at all. It is very cold.”

Hob grinned as he added buttons and a parsnip to the taller snowman’s face. “That’s true,” he agreed. “You sure you don’t want to try some woolen socks for your feet? My knitting’s gotten loads better since I made that scarf.”

“It would affect my aerodynamics,” Dream demurred, though Hob knew it was only an excuse. Dream was simply too vain to try to be warm if it might make him look the slightest bit ridiculous.

“Help me find some fallen branches,” Hob said, nodding toward the little stand of trees at one side of the park. “Longish ones.”

Dream’s star-filled eyes saw the world differently from Hob’s; working together, it didn’t take long to find an armful of branches and sticks that met Hob’s approval. He started breaking off extra branchlets to make arms for the snowmen, and set aside the two longest, bushiest ones to become wings for the second snowman.

Dream watched as he worked, curious as always. “I see how the features are represented,” he said after a while, “but they still do not look much like men.”

“They’re not meant to, really,” Hob said, chuckling. “They look like snowmen. That’s enough.”

Hob made the “wing” branches as narrow as he could, keeping only the branchlets that were on one side and pointing in more or less the same direction. When he added them to the taller snowman, Dream frowned. “Is that a... a snow-avian?”

“I suppose it is,” Hob said, smiling a little.

“Are they meant to be us?”

“Could be,” Hob answered, scooping up his rucksack and stepping back to admire his afternoon’s work. “Might be just friends.”

“Mm.” Dream shuffled up closer to Hob, absorbing Hob’s body heat. “More avians and humans should be friends,” he decided.

“You’ll have no argument from me on that, love.”

#my writing #countdown to 2024 #dreamling #wings au

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adenei · 1 year

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Maroon

Second and Final Submission for the Debut/Midnights Era of @cruelsummer-ficfest !!

Song: Maroon

Album: Midnights

Ship: Romione

Summary: DH Missing Moment/Slight Canon Divergence. In the darkest days of the mission, Hermione must find a way to move forward, to keep fighting. Ron is gone, but she finds solace in his memories and the smell of his sweater to help her get through the sleepless nights.

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

—-

Of all the colors Ron Weasley brought to her life, it’s the reds that stand out the most.

His hair, of course, and the Gryffindor scarlet that dominated so much of their wardrobes over the past six years. The dark pink that starts at his ears and spreads from there when he’s even the least bit embarrassed. The awful burgundy dress robes he wore to the Yule Ball.

Then there’s the metaphorical reds of anger and affection that she feels for him, sometimes simultaneously. Pretty much always simultaneously since the night he left.

But it’s one particularly technicolor night that haunts her now that he’s gone, leaving nothing behind but a warm woolen jumper and a hole in her heart.

Harry had already gone to bed, so it was just the two of them, alone in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place playing an ill-advised drinking game with a cheap bottle of Muggle wine that Seamus had gotten from Merlin-knew-where, that had somehow made it home in Ron’s trunk and then somehow into the beaded bag Hermione had packed for the mission.

There were any number of more productive things they could have been doing instead, but planning for the Ministry break-in had stalled, and Hermione wanted to think about something else for a night. Anything else. And Ron had suggested a game.

They were sitting on the floor—neither of them could quite articulate how that had happened either, though Hermione suspected the rosé—and she had plopped her feet into his lap about three drinks ago, when she was already about three drinks beyond caring how the gesture would be perceived.

Ron’s thumb had managed to find the one sliver of skin that was exposed on Hermione’s ankle between the top of her socks and the bottom of her leggings, and the rhythmic caress as he pondered his next challenge had lit every nerve ending in her body on fire.

“Okay, would you rather…have detention with Snape every day for a month, or spend every Christmas with Filch for the next five years?” Hermione shook her head and emptied her glass, an obnoxious crystal goblet with the Black family crest that they’d pulled out of a cupboard for the occasion, and Ron laughed at her response. “You can’t just drink on every question.”

“Sure I can,” Hermione argued. “It’s right there in the rules.”

“You and your damn rules.”

Ron took a swig straight from the bottle before reaching over to give Hermione a refill. He poured until the frosty pink liquid sloshed over the rim of Hermione’s cup and splashed onto her t-shirt. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Ron made a quick grab for his wand and aimed it at the wet spot, but paused as he took her in. “Is that my shirt?”

Hermione smirked. “I stole it from you in fifth year, and you’ve just now noticed?” The golden yellow Gryffindor Quidditch shirt couldn’t have fit him for more than a week after he got it, as fast as he was growing that year, and she’d had no qualms about taking it from his trunk.

“Is this a habit you have, then?” Ron asked with a laugh as he siphoned up the wine with his wand. “Stealing my clothes?”

“Maybe. Is that a problem?”

Their eyes locked and the teasing mood faded as Hermione realized just how close they were. She caught the flicker of Ron’s gaze to her lips just an instant before he leaned in and kissed her.

There had been no extravagant declarations of love, no other outward displays of affection before or since. Only an understanding that had developed over the months since Ron’s poisoning that their feelings were reciprocated, and that said feelings would have to wait until after the mission. But what good was constant mortal peril if it didn’t challenge them to be young and dumb and reckless just once?

Their lips met in a frenzy and their hands roamed as if they wanted to devour each other while they had the chance. Instinct told her this would be their only opportunity to be like this, at least for a while.

If only she had known how true that would turn out to be.

Hermione tosses over in her bunk, unable to sleep despite her constant state of exhaustion. She lights her wand and looks down at the burgundy splotch on her shirt, the only physical reminder she has of that night. She would almost think she had dreamed it, if not for a stubborn wine stain that they had been too preoccupied to treat in the moment.

There are spells she could use to get rid of it, even now, but at this point, she cherishes the color, and what it reminds her of. A shiver travels down her spine, and she plucks Ron’s jumper from the end of the bed where she tossed it earlier, pulling it on for the meager comfort it provides in his absence. The whole world’s been black and white without him.

Well, black and white and maroon.

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #cruel summer fic fest #ron x hermione #ron weasley x hermione granger #hp fic inspired by taylor swift

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illegally-blind-and-deaf · 11 months

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Tintin shivered as he left the steamy bathroom, sliding across the wooden floors of the cramped apartment on his socks. It felt as though he had stepped into Antarctica, due to the main radiator being broken. The only other warm room (apart from the tiny bathroom) was his mother's study, from which echoed the soft clicks of keys mixed with the occasional ding of a bell. He twisted the knob quietly, slipping through the small crack in the door. Lamps casted soft pools of golden light across the variety of books resting in shelves, falling delicately around the dark wooden desk; the source of the constant clicks and dings. There sat a woman with her back to the door, her auburn hair falling in the popular gentle curls of the 30s. She had changed from her blouse and woolen skirt into a soft blue dressing gown that reminded Tintin of summer clouds. He began making his way towards her, trying to keep his footsteps as silent as he could. Somehow, the woman managed to hear him and she turned her head, revealing her tortoise shell glasses and the profile of a slightly bent nose. "I can hear you, little duckling."

"There's no way. I was silenter than a mouse!"

"More silent," Lucille corrected, smiling as her son harrumphed his way to her desk. "And you should know by now, having six years' worth of experience living with me, that I have exceptional hearing."

Tintin pouted, moving the loose pages on her desk to create a spot where he could sit. "It's not fair. How am I supposed to play practical jokes on you?"

The soft clicks of her Fountain Writer stopped as she looked at her son. Unfortunately, the gaze of her green eyes reached just past him to a small crack in the wallpaper. "What's not fair is having a depleted sense."

"You're a little off, just look the the left a little more."

She did and Tintin moved his head slightly so they locked eyes. "What's also not fair is you using your blindness for an excuse for everything."

"But it's true," she said simply, resuming her typing. Dots popped up across the page as the needle on the Brailler slid across with a steady tapping. Tintin watched, trying to decipher the story being placed on the page.

"Mama?"

"Yes, my darling?"

"When are you going to teach me Braille so I can read your stories?"

The needle reached the end of the page. Lucille pulled the pocketmarked page out of the machine, placing it on the pile of paper next to her. "How is your reading and writing at school?"

"Don't change the conversation!"

"I'm not. I just want to make sure that you're understanding your schoolwork because if you start learning Braille before you're ready, you will get confused."

"Oh." He sighed, swinging his legs in the air. "Madame Van der Veer says I'm doing very well. She's given me extra work so I don't get bored."

Lucille smiled. "You're a very clever boy, Tintin."

He grinned, revealing the two front teeth that were larger than the rest and jutted out from the otherwise neat row. "So can I learn?"

"I suppose," Lucille sighed. "But you must promise me that you won't get mad when you don't understand it straight away."

"I promise."

"Good. Get me your slate. And dont explode with excitement, please!"

He hurried to the bedroom, pulling the small blackboard and chalkbout of his school bag, then dashed back to the study. Lucille doing it, uttering a soft "thank you" as she divided the dusty surface into six squares. "In Braille, every letter is made out of a combination of up to 6 dots." She scribbled them roughly, not caring if they were crooked or uneven. She couldn't see them anyway. "This is called a Braille cell. Are you following?"

"Mhm."

"Fabulous. Each different dot is called a different number, so the top left-hand dot is dot 1, the one below is dot 2, the next one is dot 3, then it jumps back to the top on the left-hand side and you have dots 4, 5 and 6."

"Okay, that makes sense, now what are the letters?"

"Slow down. Can you pass me a piece of paper and then come sit on my lap?"

He obeyed, watching as she slotted it in to the brailler and moved the needle back to the left. Gently, she took his fingers and placed them on the keys of the brailler. "There are nine keys. These top two are backspace and enter; these three on the left are your three dots on the left of the Braille cell; the same on the right; and the middle key is the space. Understood?"

"Oui."

"Encroyable. Now, your index fingers are the top two dots, the middle fingers the middle two and the ring fingers are the bottom dots."

"When are we learning about the alphabet?"

"I was about to tell you before you interrupted me."

"Oh."

Lucille giggled. "The letter 'A' is a very difficult letter to remember, so listen to me closely."

Tintin straightened, eyes trained on the keys. His fingers were almost too short, but he managed to spread them far enough that they touched one key each.

"'A' is dot one."

He jammed his left index finger into the key, gasping as the brailler made a soft 'pop' and the needle slid over, revealing one singular dot on the page. "Is that it?"

"Yup."

Tintin pouted, blowing a raspberry at his mother. "You lied."

"It was a funny joke."

"It wasn't really-"

Her fingers wriggled into his side's and he squealed, sliding down her lap until his bottom hit the floor. "You're mean!"

Lucille laughed, the laugh that sounded like both a wheeze and a crow. "You said my joke wasn't funny, so who's really the mean one?" She pulled him back up, wrapping her arms around his soft waist. "Lets continue. 'B' is dots 1 and 2. You must press them at the same time."

He did, wriggling with glee as the two fresh dots jumped from under the needle.

"'C' is dots 1 and 4, so use your two index fingers."

And so it went on, all the way through the alphabet until they had reached 'Z'. Tintin couldn't help but grin as he ran a finger along the tiny bumps, studying each letter carefully. "Now what?"

"Now we do it again."

The excitement deflated and he slouched. "But I want to write a story," he groaned.

"I know, but it's like playing the piano. You love your piano lessons, don't you?"

He nodded.

"I'm assuming that you're nodding."

"Yes."

"Good. But, you don't like doing your scales over and over again, do you?"

"Scales are so boriiiiing," he whined.

"But you know why you have to do them?"

He sighed. "So my fingers get nice and strong and I can play quickly and better."

Lucille nodded. "It's exactly the same when you're leaning to write, whether you're writing with a pencil or with Braille. You have to do the basics like writing the alphabet over and over again so you can do better at the harder things. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Mama. Can I do it again?"

"Yes, but then you have to go to bed, okay?"

"Okay!" Suddenly his fingers are moving again, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Lucille stroked the little tuft of almost blond hair, turning her head slightly so she could see the few copper strands peeking through the small remainder of her central vision. 'I love you,' she tapped onto the little boy's scalp. 'My little sunshine.'

"Mama, why are you tapping my head?"

"I'm telling your brain that it's time for a little duckling to go to bed,"

"But-"

"Hey, we had an agreement. You break the agreement and I won't teach you any more for the rest of the month."

The words had barely left her mouth when Tintin took off, shooting down the hall like a hare. Lucille laughed, making her own, slower way into the bedroom. "Are you in?"

The rustle of blankets confirmed her suspicions. "Alrighty little munchkin. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mama," came the sleepy reply.

She kissed him gently on the head. "I love you very much."

"I love you to Pluto and back."

"I love you past Pluto and back again."

"That's not fair. We don't know any planets past Pluto."

"Goodnight. I shouldn't be too long."

He nodded, blowing her a kiss as she felt for the lamp switch. Darkness soon filled the room, embracing the little boy gently as he began to drift into sleep. Lucille crept quietly out of the room, taking one last moment to listen to the soft rise and fall of his breath with a smile.

#tintin #tintin fanfic #blind character #soft #fluff

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acacia-may · 2 years

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I love the friendship between Gajeel and Juvia, even though there's not a lot aboutvit in canon, so... can I please request their bond for your game, please? With 💛🧡💚

Aww this is so wholesome, Anon! Thank you so much!! 🥰 I absolutely love the friendship between Gajeel and Juvia too, and I really wish we got to see more of it in the canon. [A/N: It's actually kind of funny that I got this ask because my sister was just teasing me the other day for somehow managing to cram this friendship into my Fairy Tail fic (even though it wasn't really about that) just because I love them so much 😅 but I digress...] I would be delighted to write some headcanons about them for you, and I really hope you will like these! Thanks again for the ask and for playing my game! 💛

Questions from this "Bye Bye Writer's Block" Ask Game

Gajeel Redfox & Juvia Lockser Friendship Headcanons

💛-- Friendship

A long time ago Juvia made a loaf of banana bread and gave it to Gajeel on a whim, and Gajeel's grateful reaction convinced her that it was one of his favourite foods so to this day she goes out of her way to make it for him on special occasions or just to show that she's thinking of him. In an attempt to thank her once, Gajeel tried to bake his own banana bread for Juvia, but it didn't turn out. However, Juvia was very touched by the thoughtfulness of his gesture and offered to teach him how to make it.

The truth is that Gajeel doesn't really care for banana bread--he was merely grateful that Juvia had made him something and was moved by her kindness, thoughtfulness, and generosity. He doesn't ever correct her, however, because he loves how happy she is when she gives it to him and is very thankful to have something they can share together as friends.

🧡-- Childhood/Backstory

Though Gajeel would most likely deny it, he has always felt protective of Juvia in an older brother kind of way and has (albeit secretly) tried to look out for her from their days in Phantom Lord. When Juvia first tried to join Phantom Lord, Gajeel couldn't really understand why someone like her would want to join the Phantom guild in the first place and honestly thought she was stupid a little naive in the beginning. Surprising even himself, however, this really struck a nerve in him, and he decided she deserved to be protected, a duty he took upon himself. Unbeknownst to Juvia, Gajeel really went out of his way to make sure no one else in their dark guild (especially its more rough and unsavory members) messed with her, and this ultimately helped her be accepted by Phantom Lord much more easily and quickly. To this day, Juvia has no idea that Gajeel was secretly looking out for her all this time, a bit like her guardian angel (though he probably wouldn't like that title), and he doesn't plan to tell her. (Panther Lily and Levy have both figured it out, however, and think this big brother side of him is very sweet).

💚-- General

Gajeel has quite the collection of hand-knitted gifts from Juvia. The collection started when one winter, Juvia knitted him a pair of mittens, and even though Gajeel isn't usually the type to wear woolen, winter mittens (he generally gets uncomfortably warm if he bundles up too much), he was genuinely moved by the gesture, especially the time and effort Juvia put into making them for him and kept them in a safe place. Juvia eventually knits a matching scarf and two matching hats, one for Gajeel and one for Panther Lily (with holes cut out for his ears of course). Gajeel keeps all the gifts, but the ones he gets the most use out of are the socks. He wears each pair of socks Juvia knitted for him down until they're tattered, and somehow Juvia always seems to know when his socks are wearing thin because she'll somehow have another pair ready to give him at the perfect time. What Gajeel doesn't know is that Juvia has a whole box of socks she has knitted especially for him for whenever he might need them.

#fairy tail headcanon #gajeel redfox #juvia lockser #healthy male female friendships for the win!!#this friendship is criminally underrated #i love them your honor #thank you so much for the ask!#bye bye writer's block headcanons game #answered anons

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sunnyrealist · 4 months

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🌶️ Chapter 45: Under the Stars 🌶️

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Sebastian and Kate are on the last day of their camping trip in the Scottish Highlands. Unlike most couples who guess that their significant others are their soulmates, they know it. Their visit to Blackfold Castle revealed the truth of their instant connection - Sebastian and Kate are the result of a ritual for rebirth performed by tragic lovers from the 15th century. When the two of them return to their tent, they spend time processing what they have learned. Kate feels an enormous amount of pressure to justify the sacrifice that was made in her past life, but ultimately, she and Sebastian are happy to know the truth. They decide that they must trust that they are doing the right thing by their former selves by living a good life filled with love.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the Hogwarts assistant librarian

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+ - minors should not read or interact with this story. This chapter features outdoor sex and a partner keeping a secret from their significant other.

NOTE: This is the end of Part One of The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars. I am planning to keep this story to three parts. There are exciting plot lines coming up in Part Two - surprises regarding Anne's final years, finally meeting Ominis in a dangerous conflict, Sebastian pushing for freedom from both the Kelpies and the Ministry of Magic, the couple trying to win the approval of Kate's parents, and more! There will be plenty of smut and fluff to come as well.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 45: Under the Stars

Kate easily convinces Sebastian to make camp in a more comfortable location since it is their last night. She doesn’t want to spend the entire evening planted in front of the cast-iron stove, especially because it is summer. After deliberation, they apparate back to Purple Heaven - the meadow filled with purple wildflowers, heather, and thistles they discovered days ago and aptly named.

The sun is setting, an orange glow slowly enveloping the sky. The surrounding forest stands protectively, while singing birds mingle with the chirping crickets. This place is truly wonderful, Kate muses, as she levitates everything they’ll need for dinner right out of the tent.

They have decided to dine al fresco. Sebastian has already set up their table and chairs, as well as floating candles in preparation for darkness to fall. As Kate lays out dishes on the table, she decides to change into something more comfortable now that they are not on a snow-covered, rocky mountainside. Plopping down on a chair, she begins to remove her boots and thick woolen socks, then places her bare feet on the soft grass, sighing in pleasure and granting herself a minute to just relax and take in the scenery.

When she enters the tent, boots in hand, Sebastian appears to be rummaging through his things. “What are you looking for?”

He turns to face her, his expression disappointed. “I could have sworn that I packed a telescope, but I must have forgotten.”

Kate grins. “That would have been nice, but we can still stargaze without a telescope. Don’t worry about it. We can just search for constellations on our own. I think it’s more romantic that way, sweetheart - don’t you?”

Sebastian nods and holds out an arm. Kate sidles up to him, melting into his embrace. “You always have a way of making things better,” he tells her, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m changing into more suitable clothes for this altitude,” she explains as she steps away and disappears into her extendable bag.

Kate emerges from the tent a few minutes later, still barefoot, wearing a long brown skirt over a white buttoned blouse with brown polka dots. A smile grows across her face as she notices Sebastian standing near the table holding a freshly-picked bouquet. As she makes her way towards him, he selects a white flower and places it carefully behind her ear, gently pulling her hair down around it to hold it in place. A tinge of pink graces her cheeks as her blue eyes open once more.

Sebastian lowers the bouquet into a glass vase at the center of the table. As the light disappears more and more, the candles provide a soft flickering of light. Kate dishes out the food: roasted turkey with cranberries, whipped potatoes with brown gravy, warm dinner rolls with fresh butter, and a medley of seasoned, steamed vegetables. She fills their glasses with white wine. When she finally sits, Sebastian pushes in her seat.

Once the two begin to eat, lacewing flies slowly begin to light up the field, providing additional illumination.

“I’m so glad we’re spending our last night here. I don’t know that I’ve ever been to a more beautiful place my entire life,” Kate muses, surveying their surroundings with joy.

Adoration fills Sebastian’s eyes. “And I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my entire life.”

She blushes deeply, sipping her wine.

They eat quietly for a few minutes, broken only by him complimenting the meal thoroughly.

“So,” Kate begins after a while, “What happens now? Now that we know all of this? Now that the trip is practically finished?”

Sebastian’s lips flatten into a thin line as he considers this, realizing the truth rather quickly. His voice grows bitter. “We return to reality, I suppose.” As if to avoid saying it aloud, he mumbles, “I go back to the Ministry, and you go back to the library.”

“Well, not quite. I have the whole summer off,” she quietly notes with a small smile, trying not to make him jealous. “But…” she trails off, hesitant.

“What is it?”

Kate stares at her wine glass. Is it too soon? But we know now that we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives…

After a moment of deliberation, she finally explains, “Sebastian, I don’t want to be apart from you any more than we have to once we return.” Her tone is completely serious as she speaks, staring and searching his face. “Will you… live with me, my moon? I want you to move in with me. Please? I don’t want to sleep without you ever again. I want to be with you every possible moment from here on out.”

Sebastian sucks in a breath, then grins brightly at the thought of getting to move in with her so soon. “I… I would love to live with you and share a home. Waking up to your smile every morning… it would mean everything to me.” He chuffs in delight. “The more I think about it, the more I think I need it. Gods, I love you!” He rushes over to her, pulling her out of the chair and into his embrace.

“Oh, Bash,” Kate exclaims with a sweet laugh. “I don’t want to live without you anymore. Now that we know what we know, my cottage would simply not be home without you.” She squeezes him tighter. “You are my home. You belong with me, and I with you.”

Leaning down to her level, he takes her face in his hands. “Kate, are you really sure you want me to move in so soon? Are you certain?” When she nods, he adds, “If it’s something that you truly want, I would love to. I want to make you happy.”

“You already do. I want nothing more,” she affirms.

One week ago, Sebastian would have questioned it in his mind, turning over all of the negative possibilities of moving in, automatically assuming he would eventually be kicked out of the cottage and abandoned all over again. Now, he has complete faith that that would never happen. There’s no need for insecurity. He kisses Kate’s forehead, then helps her to sit back down at the table.

“It’s a shame,” Kate notes, to which Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “A real shame that you don’t have the summer off.” He shrugs apologetically. “Imagine all we could do. But… you’ll move in with me now. So, at least we’ll be together every night. I promise I’ll always have dinner and a kiss ready for you when you get home.” She smiles at the word home. It’s not just her cottage anymore - it will be their home.

Sebastian chuckles softly, though he still can’t help but feel bitter as he thinks about work. “I’ll enjoy every night, at least, once I get home from my hellish shifts.” He sighs sadly. “Being away from you, even for only a few hours, will kill me.” His heart aches already at the thought of only getting to see her for a few precious hours every night.

Kate reaches for his hand. “You’ll at least have something to look forward to.” She gives it a squeeze. “I’ll take care of you when your workdays are done. I’ll make sure our nights are peaceful. Dinner ready, music playing, soft candlelight…”

“Gods.” Sebastian sighs as he pictures the idyllic scene she describes.

“After dinner, I’ll draw you a warm bath, and then we’ll sit and read together with tea and dessert. Then, we can get cozy in bed and cuddle until we fall asleep.” She smiles a little bashfully. “Is that… something you would like?”

It feels to Sebastian as though the lacewing flies have apparated inside his abdomen. “Gods, that is all I could ever want. I would like nothing more than to come back to you after a long day at work and have you there to comfort me and take me into your arms until we fall asleep together.”

“Or not sleep,” Kate mutters playfully with a smirk.

He gives her a grin. “Or not sleep,” Sebastian echoes, his tone becoming cheeky. “We could… instead stay up late and do some other… activities.”

They both chuckle, then tuck in to their meals once more.

“Logistically, how difficult will it be for you to move your belongings to the cottage?” Kate later inquires, spooning up some whipped potatoes and dipping her fork in a pool of gravy.

Sebastian finishes chewing. “Not difficult at all.”

“How long might it take, do you suppose?”

“Fifteen minutes,” he replies quickly.

Kate looks at him with a shocked expression, then breaks into laugh. “Oh, I see. You’re joking with me.”

Sebastian stares at his plate, then glances at her in all seriousness. “No, I’m not.” He downs the rest of his white wine. “I… I really don’t have much, sweetheart. I move from inn to inn, never staying anywhere for too long.” He looks a bit sheepish. “I could probably fit most of my things in one box.”

Kate blinks, not sure how to respond to that. “I see.” She stands up and refills Sebastian’s glass, then smiles kindly. “Well, the cottage is small, anyway! Perhaps not having much is for the best. And if the move will be easy - well, that’s something we should be grateful for.”

He inhales deeply, as if breathing in her positivity. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Sebastian’s eyes bulge when Kate brings out a massive chocolate cake and cuts into it.

“I hope you like chocolate!” She grins as she cuts into the dessert, plating it and handing it to Sebastian. There are layers of chocolate mousse and fudgy frosting on top. Pouring out two glasses of cold milk, she hands one to Sebastian. “You’ll need it,” she tells him with a laugh.

“Good gods, this is delicious,” Sebastian utters after taking his first bite. “You really made this?”

She nods proudly. “I did!”

“Merlin, I will need to stay up with my physical training, if you’re going to continue making dessert like this when we’re home,” he notes with a glimmer in his eyes. “I’m going to be so spoiled.”

“Yes, you will be!” Kate washes down a bit of cake with milk, then changes the topic subtly. “I want to have lots of fun dates on weekends, Bash. You know, get out of the house and explore…”

Sebastian’s face brightens as he suggests, “We should go to London. There’s so much to do and see. We could go shopping for silly things, try different cuisines…”

“Oh, I’d love that! My sister lives there with her fiance, you know. Maybe we can all visit someday.” Kate’s eyes widen with enthusiasm. “But even just you and me - we’d have a great time. I’ve always wanted to visit Muggle London… if you’re up for it.”

He chuckles. He’s never seen anyone so excited to travel outside of the wizarding world before. “Yes!” he exclaims. “Absolutely, I want to go. I have been to London before, but I’ve always stayed in the magical community. It would be fascinating to go into the city proper and sightsee, like the Muggles do.”

Kate grins excitedly, reaching for his hand. “I’m so glad you don’t think I’m strange for wanting to see the Muggle world. Oh, gosh… and someday, we can travel beyond London. We could see the entire world! Italy, America, Japan, the Caribbean, Spain…”

Sebastian’s heart swells at her optimism and the way her mind is already planning out their future journeys together, even as they enjoy the final night of their first-ever adventure. He leans across the table to press his lips to hers. The kiss tastes like cocoa - so sweet.

After a few more bites, Kate smiles again. “So… tomorrow we head back home, but you still have until Monday before you have to go back to work. What are some things you might like to do, my love?”

Sebastian eats a bit more, giving her a thoughtful look. “I’m okay with doing pretty much anything, as long as it involves just the two of us, really. Is there anything you have in mind? Any places you want to go?”

“Well, we should move you into the cottage. But I suppose that goes without saying,” she replies, buying some time to decide if the time was right to bring up an idea. “After everything we have learned, and knowing how fully committed we are to each other, I would really welcome a chance to… to meet your parents and Anne. That is, to say, I was hoping we might visit their graves. I thought you could introduce me to them,” she finishes rather bashfully, hoping he doesn’t hate the idea.

He looks at Kate for a long time, not having expected this request. When he responds, his voice is a little shaky. “It’s… probably something I should have done a long time ago… visiting. I am okay with it if you want to.”

Now it’s Kate’s turn to be surprised at this admission. “Seb… How long has it been since you visited their graves?” She inquires in the calmest, kindest tone possible, not wanting to sound judgmental. Has he paid his respects in the years after Azkaban at all?

“It’s been… a long time. Years. Maybe close to a decade now,” he answers in a whisper. Her words make him feel a pit in his stomach.

“Is… Anne buried near them?”

Sebastian looks away. “I… I actually don’t know.” He practically jumps when Kate places his hand over his in an act of comfort. “But I would think she most likely is.” He pauses. “When my parents died, they were buried in Feldcroft. They didn’t live there. We grew up in Aranshire. But the idea was that Anne and I could visit them more easily in Feldcroft once we moved in with my uncle.” He’s silent for a while. Pained, he closes his eyes. “They would all be ashamed of me. I haven’t visited because of that.”

“Oh, my love,” Kate whispers in return. “No, you mustn’t think like that.” She moves her chair closer to him and rubs his back soothingly. “They must know all you’ve faced, what you’ve done to atone, what a good man you’ve become.”

Sebastian’s voice breaks. “T-the last time Anne wrote to me, she… she said she didn’t know if she could ever f-forgive me. She said she… needed time. I never heard from her again.” Earnestly, he searches Kate’s face when he asks, “Do… do you think they would even still love me?”

Her jaw drops, but she replies immediately with confidence, “Of course. They’re your family.” Her hand rests on his shoulder. “There is so much you have yet to tell me about them, but I have to believe that if they are anything like you, they would never give up on someone so easily.”

Kate’s words reassure and calm Sebastian. “I hope you’re right. I… Sometimes… I wish I could go back in time and do things differently. Sometimes… I just wish I could change the way my life has been up until now…”

This train of thought lingers in Sebastian’s mind. The Time Turner he stole for the Kelpies is hidden away in a location known to him and only a few others. He has been entrusted to keep it secret until the gang decides to use it, though he will never let that happen. He’ll notify the Ministry when he has to. But… What if he were to use it for himself? He doesn’t utter a word about it to Kate. She doesn’t need to know about it and shouldn’t - knowing anything about it would put her in danger, too.

“We can’t change the past,” Kate murmurs calmly, kissing Sebastian’s head as she stands up to collect the dirty dishes. “All we can do is move forward. Your family surely knows that.”

About an hour later, Sebastian points to the night sky. “And there is Cassiopeia.”

Kate’s eyes find the constellation. “Ah, I see it! And that means that Andromeda and Perseus cannot be far off.”

He has made them a makeshift bed in the meadow, with blankets and pillows. Kate snuggles in closer and lays her head on his chest. He kisses her forehead gently.

“Andromeda’s story of being sold off by her father reminds me so much of Eilionoir,” she murmurs.

“But she was rescued, remember,” Sebastian notes. “She and Perseus lived happily ever after.”

“Just like us,” Kate adds with a smile.

Sebastian feels as though his heart could burst. Here, he can forget about how tumultuous his job is, as well as the sorrows of his past. Here, they’re just two soulmates, cuddling under the stars without a thought in their heads except love and romance.

“Kate,” he whispers. “Just the thought of spending my life with you, being able to wake up every morning knowing that you’ll be right next to me… it makes me feel…” He’s hesitant to finish the sentence, so he pulls her closer, hoping she’ll just understand.

She melts into his embrace but pushes him. “But… what does that make you feel, my love?”

He traces her jawline with a finger, looking over her face. “Safe,” he finally answers. “It makes me feel safe. For the first time… really, yes… For the first time in my life, I feel… safe.” He exhales softly, and his voice breaks. “I… I-I’ve just never felt this safe with anyone…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Kate’s heart aches for him. “Of course, my darling. You’re safe with me. I’ll always be here. You can be vulnerable with me. I will always love you no matter what. We were born for each other.”

A small smile graces his lips. “I’ve… never had that kind of comfort. I’ve never had someone who was able to completely accept me and love me no matter what. I’ve… never been so happy as I am now, my sun.”

“We are going to have a happy life, I promise you,” she replies softly, gently running her hand through his hair. “When you have a rough day, I’ll be waiting for you at home with open arms. When you’re sad, I’ll kiss away your tears. And when you’re feeling positively sunny, I’ll be right by your side, smiling with you.” She kisses his cheek and then the tip of his nose. “If it’s alright, I just ask for a few things in return.”

“You have it, my love,” he responds without hesitation, his tone sincere. “You know you have my entire heart.” Their faces are incredibly close together now, his eyes locked on hers, trying to take in every detail of her expression. “You can have whatever you want. Just ask me. I promise I will be there for you, too. I’ll keep all the tears you cry, any sadness or pain you feel, and bear it in my heart instead of yours.”

Their noses touching, Kate closes her eyes. “I would never ask you to do that, my sweet moon. Never. You’ve suffered long enough. I would rather take it from you. I would if I could.” She kisses his lips softly. “Do you really wish to know what I would ask of you?”

“I want to know because I would do anything - anything in the entire world - if it would make you happy.” He swallows, the love he feels for her only growing more and more.

Kate smiles, staring into his eyes. “I wish to take your name when we marry. I want to be called Mrs. Sallow. I want you to love me for our entire lifetime, no matter what. I might not… always be as beautiful as you always seem to believe I am today. Promise me, Bash - promise you’ll love me even after I’ve had your children, even after they’re grown and I’m wrinkled with gray hair.” She pauses, her breathing quiet. “Keep our marriage light. Never let us stop having fun. Push me sometimes - get me out of my routines.” She kisses his jaw. “And finally… I think we should perform the ritual again. The one that Neacal created so that he and Eilionoir - so that we - could find each other again in the next life. I want to find you over and over again, Sebastian. My Sebastian.” Her expression is filled with so much love.

Sebastian’s eyes shimmer more and more with each of her words, making him feel more than he’s felt in the entire past year in just a mere moment. It makes him believe in the power of love even more; to know she wants to marry him, to have his children, to grow old with him, and to even want to find him again in their next life… It brings tears to his eyes and causes his breath to become shaky. “Gods… yes,” he says, his voice barely audible. “Yes.” He does all he can to hold back his tears. “I will do everything you have asked. And I would be so honored for you to take my name and become Mrs. Sallow.” His voice has grown so quiet that she almost has to lean in further to catch his words.

Kate presses her forehead against his. “I love you, my moon. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.” She coughs out a little laugh as she notices his watery eyes, tears forming in her own as she smiles. “Now we are both crying, Mr. Sallow!”

Sebastian chuckles quietly, brushing some of her blonde hair away from her face so gently, as if it were the softest material on Earth. His eyes search her own as he speaks again, his voice still shaky with emotion. “I love you. I love you so much, Mrs. Sallow.”

Despite her tears, Kate grins. “Oh, I love that. Say it again, Sebastian.”

“I love you, Mrs. Sallow. I mean it, with every breath I take, with every beat of my heart. I will always love you and be here for you… until the end of time. You saved me. You make my life worth living again.” His lips finally meet hers.

She returns his kiss with every bit of love in her heart. Pulling him closer, they languidly make out for a long, long time. Slipping underneath his tunic, Kate’s hands roam all over his back, his chest - anywhere she can touch. When she breaks away for a moment to catch her breath, his lips chase hers, unwilling to part until he is nearly out of breath himself. The two are left panting and trembling. She can barely think. Her blood sings his name; her soul cries for more. She stares at him and he back at her with exactly the same desperate need.

“Sebastian,” she chokes out.

His mind goes blank; all he can feel is his pure and intense desire for her. His heartbeat thunders in his ears. He opens his mouth to speak, but only a strangled moan escapes before he captures her lips again, the two of them losing themselves to passion.

After removing their clothing, Sebastian kisses every inch of Kate’s flesh. He nips at her perfect skin, leaving his signature in crimson in his wake. His mouth travels to her center, using his lips and tongue to prepare her, to pleasure her, to make her putty in his hand. She’s screaming in no time, arching her back and gripping the blanket.

Sebastian peers down at his lover in adoration of her beauty. Laid out bare for him, her full, round breasts are on full display, heaving as she gasps for air. By now, he has fully left his claim on her - so many marks, purple and red, bloom on her pale skin - all borne of love. She writhes on top of the blanket, begging for him and his touch, her cheeks flushed.

Kate’s gaze is fixed upon him, her future husband - his large biceps, defined chest, his chocolatey-rich eyes that examine her soul. She can see how ready he is, his manhood large and long and standing proud against his lower abdomen. Kate touches him, pumping him until he pushes her hand away gently, whispering how it is too much for him and how much he wants to be inside her instead.

He spreads her legs and lifts them over his shoulders; then, grasping her bottom, pulls her center onto him slowly - so slowly - with a soft groan, until it seems he can traverse no further. The two simply gape at each other for a few moments, completely transfixed.

This position is intense; Sebastian is buried to the hilt inside her, and as he begins to thrust, it feels as though he wants to venture further yet. Kate doesn’t know that that is even possible. She almost immediately begins to vocalize as his fingers sink into the supple flesh of her hips, trying to hold her in place as he begins to languidly move. Her hands slither over her breasts, touching her own sensitive nipples as he begins to stroke deeply. His eyes are filled with pure pleasure as he unhurriedly moves within her, his breath trembling as he feels the tight pressure around him.

Sebastian’s movements become gradually faster as her hands move over her breasts, her wanton moaning only making him want more, making him want to feel closer to her, making him want to consume every part of her.

When he finally begins to pound into her, Kate whimpers. He maintains the rhythm for a while, then slows down again, pushing as deep as he can, lingering, before continuing on. The cycle repeats until he is sweating, red, and panting, with Kate shrieking, her breasts bouncing as he hammers into her. Their moans echo off of the trees that surround the meadow.

Sebastian folds her down, his face now so close to hers. This new position brings his thrusting closer to her sensitive bud, and it isn’t long before she comes, shouting out his name in broken syllables, almost sounding as though she’s crying in ecstasy. His own loud groans become one with hers as she finally reaches the climax he has been working so hard for her to achieve. Their bodies dance together in pleasure, hips meeting hips, until the two of them find release together.

Kate clutches Sebastian’s neck as he cries out. After exploding inside of her, his thrusts begin to slow. She finally lowers her legs. She presses her body so close to his that it’s difficult to tell where he ends and she begins. They share a long, tender kiss that communicates how much each of them idolizes the other.

His heart beats so quickly that it almost hurts. Sebastian whispers, “Kate… I love you… I love you so much…”

“Sebastian,” Kate breathes out against his neck. “I love you, too.”

She doesn’t want to ever let go of him, but sheer exhaustion forces her to. It’s been such a long and truly exciting day. She still isn’t all that sure how to effectively process all of the emotion she has felt, along with the almost unbelievable truth that she and he are reincarnated souls, reunited at long last.

They fall asleep, snuggled tightly together under the stars - the stars that brought the sun and moon together once more.

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