#did he resign? he can't have he's mentioned by those two later

[planeoftheeclectic]

Oh, do tell more about "Columbo: Turnabout's Fair Play".

oh geez ok I don't know how much I can say because I have been trying so hard not to spoil the mystery but let's go.

There are a few people who know how it will end/what the twist is, most of whom don't care much about Ace Attorney and were unlikely to ever read it in the first place and one of whom cares negatively about spoilers. This is because I was very anxious that the twist leading to the break in the case was too contrived and I wanted an outside opinion.

This was because I began writing TFP before I finished playing Bridge to the Turnabout. All subsequent worries about "realism" and "physics" and "the laws of science" have since been summarily dismissed.

I am currently working on some things that are very close to what will go in the epilogue and I really can't say more than that or I'm worried you'll figure it out immediately. Suffice to say: I like mirroring.

In the past 24 hours I have discovered two musical themes from AA4 that I will absolutely be using as writing ambiance because they are exactly what I've been looking for. One is Phoenix's theme, one is ostensibly the Gramarye's theme but honestly might as well work for Phoenix, both are embedded below for your convenience.

Honestly, the name of that second one is perfect for Phoenix. Man I can't wait until we get there.

Hmmm...I think the only reason I can get away with writing this fic is because I am very good at mimicking other people's vocal patterns - to the point where I have come home from Shakespeare plays speaking in iambic pentameter. (In fairness, that's less hard than it sounds - English is made for that kind of thing.) But Peter Falk is so integral to the concept of Columbo that if you can't nail his patter, your work is just going to be missing something, imo.

Hmm, what else...I think you in particular will be delighted by the ending, which is why I had to stop talking about it with you the moment I realized what it was going to be lol. Which is infuriating because I love our talks and value your contributions so much but I can't and it's driving me insane ahhhhhhhh!! That said! I relish the look on your face when you finally get there, and that expression (multiplied by the other people who read it, which is way more than I expected when I first posted it tbh) is what keeps me going. It's going to be so good. I can't wait. Why isn't it done yet. What do you mean I have to write it first.

I'm still desperately tempted to write the alternative setup I initially proposed, aka "Maya Fey hires her friend the retired detective to get those idiots together it's been like 20 years guys, geez." I probably will write it as totally separate from TFP but man can you imagine.

If I ever write the jokingly hypothetical Klapollo sequel it will be after we've finished at least aa4 and possibly the whole sequel trilogy. Which is probably for the best, given I have palutena trap to work on. That said, I've grown exceptionally fond of Klavier. Possibly because I keep murdering his brother and making horrible things happen to him. ...Sorry about that, buddy.

I somewhat doubt that Phoenix has an official breakdown sprite (excluding the head-on-desk and nervous sweating varieties) but I need to start picturing it, because that scene is coming up sooner than I can imagine. And also farther away. But at least there's only one more Edgeworth chapter forecast. That should help contain their combined loquacious verbosity to a manageable length.

I may have said this before, but I am trying very hard to write everything from the narrative point of view of the TV camera. That's defining chapter breaks, POV's. information delivered, and general tone. It's very fun, and an excellent writing exercise. I get whiplash whenever I go back to palutena trap, which has a much more standard 3rd person limited view (the character's). I would definitely recommend this sort of thing if you want to experiment with your writing style!

Hmm, now for a fun fact to end it on...well, this isn't TFP specific, but I'd like to imagine that Gumshoe is on vacation at a beach somewhere and brought one of his metal detectors and finds a buried treasure chest that is for once not connected to a murder and so he strikes it rich and can finally retire to live a life of luxury eating slightly fancier instant ramen and that's why we never see him after the 7-year gap.

[theobsessedcookiefan]

...early yay-

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hypnotic..

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Part Three: Deal.

I tried to speak but only bubbles were coming out of my mouth, the cookie in front of me shook his head as he smiled. "You shouldn't waste your breath that fast or you'll lose consciousness and have no chance to save yourself." Save myself? Was there a chance? I raised an eyebrow at that which caused my companion to laugh. "Don't give me that expression, you knew about the dangers of following a mysterious voice." He said as he placed a hand on his chest. "I must say I'm a great actor, I've managed to lure thousands and thousands and thousands of stupid cookies into the trap, they usually give up and leave to die as they can't find their way home but you.. you're persistent aren't you? Even the danger of the water didn't stop you from trying to get there." That was good? I should be proud of myself? Wait... Shouldn't I have drowned by now?

I looked around me, noticing that the dark of the lake had changed, it now looked like something luminescent. It was strangely beautiful, before I could look any further he grabbed my chin to make me look him in the eyes, he looked annoyed now, a somewhat drastic change from the cheerful and somewhat creepy personality he showed before, maybe he was annoyed at not being the center of attention. "Don't get distracted, your eyes always on me, I'm offering to save your life." The luminescence of the lake allowed me to observe him better, his bluish mass and his hair... He wasn't exactly ugly... Especially those eyes of his, they were like two crystals of different shades, but still, they attracted me like a moth to a light.. Shit I got distracted again- I nodded quickly at the mention of "not dying" putting both hands together in an attempt to convince him, again that change in his expression, he looked happy again. "Good! Normally I would ask you for something in return but seeing that you made it this far I think it would be a shame if you died-" He tapped me on the forehead before continuing. "-that would definitely ruin the fun." I unwillingly closed my eyes and a moment later I woke up again, I was in the library again, what happened? The last thing I remember was being about to meet my maker and out of nowhere.... Did I dream it? Maybe. Still I couldn't get out of my head such a cheerful and playful voice... That intense blue color of two shades, I couldn't get it out of my mind.

[Time skip]

Several days had already passed, I still couldn't stop thinking about that blue color that occupied my mind day and night, it wouldn't let me sleep, I had to find out where it was from, where I had seen it. I decided to visit the library again, looking through all the books for a clue as to where that hypnotic blue could be; I found something? Not really, but I did learn about the history of the kingdom, apparently there were five heroes who were falling into madness because of their own powers. It made me have a bad feeling, a very bad feeling...

Days of investigation yielded no information so I simply resigned myself to not knowing anything anymore.

That's what I would have thought if I was a pussy and easy to give up... which I am not! I started asking everyone about it, no one seemed to know anything until a neighbor told me that she had seen when I had gone out at night, she confessed to me that she thought the False Light had already claimed me for having disobeyed the Light of Truth.

"What? I never disobeyed it!" I replied, crossing my arms angrily, to which my neighbor; Red Berry Cookie sighed.

"Of course you did, if you had listened to her warning you wouldn't have gone out late at night into the clearing of the Silver Forest." Silver Forest? I had read about that place before in the library! That got my attention. "And what specifically is there?" I asked, moving closer to my neighbor who became nervous. "You know.. Trees and bushes, the usual stuff in a forest.." I didn't believe a word she said. "Please tell me the truth, I need to know, if for some miraculous reason I am still alive I want to know why." She looked like she wasn't going to tell me anything but sighed. "In the Silver Forest is the Seal that contains the beasts; The Great Silver Tree.... Unfortunately not all magic can be contained and the ancient wielder of the Light of Truth manages to lure helpless cookies into the lake in front of the tree.... Needless to say what happens to those cookies, almost none of them make it and die on the way, but he with every bit of Life Powder grows stronger and stronger, who knows if he will be able to break the seal soon." Wow... That was... Tetric- "And why didn't he kill me there? Because I'm still alive?" I asked, to which she shrugged. "Maybe you got so far and caught his attention and that's not good, you shouldn't leave the village anymore, not until the purification next month"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[iamsherlocked-1998]

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝

Summary: Only memories saved in.

Words: 1000.

Din Djarin x GN! Reader: Just something Sweet. Maybe some moral dilemma.

✧*｡✧*｡✧*｡✧*｡✧*｡✧*｡✧*｡✧*｡✧｡✧*｡✧

It was a hot day, spring weather was sliding inexorably towards summer, light filtered through the window, filling the room. Your duties at the Nevarro library had ended and you were unfortunately picking up Karga's dispatch after the Magistrate had recently passed away.

Grogu was in the other room playing with his friend IG-11, who had followed you inside after round against crime in the city. Then the sound of the boy's laughter filled the air.

You approached full of curiosity only to see how the droid was playing a scene like a holovid format, but instead of being a movie it looked like a recording, in which you could see the boy attached to his mechanical protector while itself shot at enemies. They had to be memories from before you met Mando.

-When is this from? It seems like a difficult situation (you asked with a remarkable question mark).

-The imperials attacked, my task as guardian droid was to protect the child.

The metallic voice filled the room, it was a predictable response, but the playback function was unknown to you.

-I didn't know that everything you saw was recorded, especially after…

You were going to say after being destroyed among lava as The Mandalorian told you, but it seemed unnecessary.

-It is the duty of a good guardian to pay attention to everything around. It also helped to know the extent of the Mandalorian's injuries in medical care.

-Di… Did Mando get hurt?

You had always been aware of the danger that the clan of two faced, especially when they first met and following months, but you did not know that the physical damage would have been of sufficient magnitude to be urgently assisted by a medical droid, nor that Djarin would lend himself to it...

-Yes, after the explosion the bacta was essential for his recovery, also the lack of presence of any living being in the reconnaissance.

That last one made your eyebrows rise to your hairline. The only time the hunter used those words was when he explained the importance for his creed of the… the only possible answer is that he took off his helmet in front of the droid.

-Do you have images of Mando without the helmet?

-Again, it was essential for his survival, I believed that it was well known in beings of your condition that to deal with possible concussion is necessary to access the nervous system in the back of the head.

You rolled your eyes at the attempt at sarcasm.

-Do you want me to play the images for any particular reason?

Your heart stopped dead at the mere mention of it.

-I can't do that, it would be against Mando's privacy… his creed forbids it and is very important to him.

-According to the Mandalorian creed in its literal sense, his members cannot remove their helmet or be seen by others, but he is not even present since it is a projection, it's not real.

Your lips parted, trying to refute that logic was extremely complicated. But it still felt like a betrayal. You and Din had known each other for months and shared almost everything that was possible between two people, but the helmet was always present, without a doubt everything worked very well.

You always had a bitter feeling in your throat as to whether he would really have that last act of trust with you later or things stay the same. Not that it was essential, he was too important to you and his personality meant everything, it was still tempting to use this as a last resort and not let anyone know.

-Play the images...please (you let out a slight resigned sigh).

At that moment the mechanism was set in motion. You saw how Mando was lying on the ground and a metal arm accessed the beskar dome to detach it. What you glimpsed was the last thing expected.

The most expressive brown eyes you had ever seen greeted you, anguish and pain were visible in the grimace of his face and was covered in blood. The state he was in broke your heart, but you smiled sadly. Despite everything, of course Din was beautiful.

He was a few years older than you, but he showed a vulnerability that made him look younger, despite all his experiences, an unusual innocence was observed. His unkempt hair curled at the edges of it, as if he had let it grow longer than it should, he had a faint trace of stubble and a small scar on the bridge of his nose. All of this was finished off by luxurious lips.

You heard how Din in the video mentioned something about his brain and the droid responded with a bad joke, making the man raise his eyebrow, but you couldn't process much more of the conversation as you were focused on the speaker of the words. It was incredible how all his thoughts were reflected without a filter to the outside by his expressions.

You hadn't realized but Grogu was next to you, watching with curiosity and his head tilted at the video of his father, a small soft squeal reached your ears. Suddenly the recording stopped.

-Do you already have the information you requested?

You nodded distractedly at IG-11's voice, which brought you out of your reverie.

-Yes, thank you, but no one can know this.

-You are an authorized person. Who and how the records are accessed is confidential.

________________

The three of you walked calmly through the city towards the small cabin, Din's mission was over and at the end of the day he picked you up to go home.

You were lost in thought as the little green one slept in your arms, you couldn't stop thinking about what you saw, looking at your partner in amazement. Of course the hunter noticed, your gaze was so insistent and intense that it burned him.

-Something wrong? (You noticed the slight amusement in his words, oblivious to the events of the day).

-Nothing, just...I'm glad to spend time together, with you.

Din ascend firmly but gently.

-If you want we can put those shows that Grogu likes so much, so you can rest.

-I would like that.

You said with a wide smile as the Mandalorian held your hand.

[jonathanbyersphd]

🥳 Will Byers 53rd BDay ficlet 🥳

Will can hear his husband rummaging through the hallway closet as pulls his jacket on. He wonders what he could possibly be searching for. Both of their umbrellas are by the door, he already gave him the new Princess Peach game as a birthday present this morning and he’s already wearing his jacket. Will checks his watch again, they’ve got seven minutes before they miss the train. 

“Mike come on we're going to be late”  Will calls.

“I'm looking for betrayal at the house on the hill, have you seen it?” Mike yells back.

“You seriously think Nancy's going to play board games?” he laughs.

“Well, it is her favorite brother-in-law’s birthday,” Mike argues.

Will is about to defend Holly’s husband but there’s a crash from the hallway before he can. 

“Are you-”

“Found It”

Mike meets him in the foyer, wide grin spread on his face and a stack of board games in his hands. Will smiles in spite of himself.  

“Besides, Jonathan and Matty definitely will ” He declares before giving Will a quick kiss.

“I thought Matty couldn't make it?” Will asks. 

“No, Sammy can't. Midterms. Geez old man keep track of your kids” Mike teases, packing the games into a bag.

“Haha very funny”

“Don’t worry no matter how old you get I'll still love you” he promises with another kiss.

“Remind me again why they can't come to dinner here?” Will sighs, and he swears Mike’s smile fades for the briefest second. 

“When in the last twenty years have those two ever come to Brooklyn?” Mike complains with an eyeroll

“They used to for the kids birthdays” Will reminds

“And we were pushing our luck then, Babe” He contends. 

“I'm just saying we could stay in, get pizza, crush you in Mario Kart” Will shrugs checking his pocket for his keys one last time. 

“If that's really what you want I can text the group chat” Mike offers quietly. 

When he turns around, he can tell that Mike doesn’t love the idea and he tries not to feel too guilty about not wanting to go into Manhattan in the rain. 

“But Nancy already picked up your cake” Mike entices

Ok, so maybe he’s been thinking about a double chocolate all week but he’s sure they have the ingredients in the kitchen. 

“And Jonathan's making lasagna” Mike coaxes. 

And sure, no one can replicate Karen’s lasagna recipe like his brother can but pizza is fine. 

“Let me guess, Matt’s already there?”  Will questions hesitantly, not wanting the answer. 

“Yea, but he's spending the weekend. So that's not a big deal” Mike shrugs, and Will’s surprised that he’s coming around. 

“Jordan did fly in from L.A. though” Mike admits. 

“Just for my birthday???”

“It's a family thing you know how she is with family things and you're her favorite uncle” Mike grins.

“Bull” 

“Look, whatever you wanna do it’s fine. We just better decide before it starts pouring” Mike encourages. 

Will can tell he’s not telling the full truth. He’s not sure why their niece would fly in for such an unremarkable birthday. But, he would feel a little bad if she wasted the trip. Not to mention that changing the plans means Matt drove into Manhattan from Burlington for no reason. And as much as he wants to stay in he’d feel way too guilty about doing that to his kid. 

“Let’s go” he resigns. 

Half an hour, one horrible subway ride, and a short walk in the rain later they're standing on the porch in Greenwich Village and Mike is frantically texting. 

“Just ring the bell” Will admonishes right as the front door swings open. 

“Hey Buddy, happy birthday” Jonathan greets with a hug. Practically pulling them into the house.

They quickly take off their coats and shoes. 

“After you birthday boy” Mike insists cheekily and Will rolls his eyes but leads the way up the stairs. 

When they reach the kitchen, the lights are completely out and before he can say anything someone flips a switch illuminating the room. Noisemakers and shouts of ‘surprise’ fill the room. He barely registers that Sam is there before El excitedly pulls him into a hug and Dustin, Lucas and Max quickly follow suit. He tries to ignore the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Will beams with only a couple sniffles.

“We heard there was a party” Lucas jokes. 

Before Will can joke back about coming all the way from Chicago for some cake. Matty and Dylan start a spirited, if off-key, rendition of Happy Birthday with his fire-hazard of a cake in hand. 

“You going to be able to get all those” Jonathan teases from behind his camera as Will takes a deep breath to blow them out. 

Somehow, he gets all fifty-three candles in one go and Nancy swiftly takes the cake away to cut slices at the kitchen table with Jordan. Sammy crosses the room and gives him a tight hug. Will doesn’t even think to chastise him for not being at school.

“I can’t believe you did all this” Will smiles. 

“Yea well, it’s not everyday you turn fifty-three” Mike jokes as he places a birthday hat on Will’s head and hands another one to Sam. 

He chases down Matt to give him a matching one and Jonathan takes their picture. The four of them must look ridiculous but he’s so happy to be with their family he doesn’t care too much.For the tiniest second, Will worries that there’s no way he’s going to be able to match this surprise for Mike’s birthday. But Mike tenderly squeezes his shoulder and the feeling is gone just as quickly as it came. 

“What’d you wish for?” Mike asks once Jonathan finishes his photoshoot. 

“Nothing, I don’t need anything else, this is perfect. Thank you” Will admits quietly, trying not to get over-emotional. 

“It’s nothing really, just a couple phone calls” Mike shrugs. 

“I’m impressed you kept the secret” Will commends. 

“The things we do for love” he responds, dramatically. 

“I love you” Will responds leaning in for a kiss.

“But I’m still gonna crush you at Mario Kart” he taunts and Mike laughs.

[purdymybeloved]

Do you think Rootspring and Shadowsight talked much after Bristlefrost's death?

Did they both grieve independently for moons, only exchanging the usual small talk at gatherings? I think to any other cat it would've sounded like that, the usual gentle back and forth about prey or weather. But to Shadowsight, who perhaps had the largest window into what Rootspring was dealing with, he was simply thrilled to hear his friend talking at all. I think Rootspring, even if he never said it, knew Shadowsight would be the only one he could still exchange such pleasantries with.

Perhaps a few moons after, during a routine sharing of herbs across the border with SkyClan, Rootspring volunteered to accompany Fidgetflake. At the meet-up, Shadowsight would be beyond pleased to see his old friend. Fidgetflake would mention how it was easy to forget how close they must have become in the Dark Forest. Perhaps Shadowsight stared at Rootspring at those words, a look in his eyes almost asking Rootspring to talk to him again. Rootspring would see this, he'd stare back, thoughts filled with longing for their old friendship, before their worlds had shattered and they had to continue with their day to day life. He'd look away, agreeing with Fidgetflake noncommittally before the herbs were exchanged and the two patrols would part ways.

Maybe several days later, Shadowsight would've written it off. He came to the conclusion that Rootspring didn't want or need his support. He was his own warrior, after all. And Shadowsight had his own clan to take care of. He'd travel with Puddleshine to the Moonpool and walk back (walking the path that always reminded him a bit too much of getting his head bashed into a tree and tossed down to hard rock) under the moonlight. He'd have fallen just a bit behind as they passed through SkyClan territory, keeping a nose out for the scent of wood sorrel. He'd hear a voice behind him and nearly jump out of his pelt, barely settling down when he'd realized it was Rootspring. Shadowsight would turn and speak in a harsh whisper,

"What are you doing here?"

Rootspring would glance at him with eyes heavy with emotion. Shadowsight never saw him so open and wounded unless he'd been talking about Bristlefrost. Rootspring would breathe.

"I... missed you."

Shadowsight froze entirely. Rootspring spoke quietly.

"I missed this. Us– us meeting up. Walking on patrol or herb duty and being able to talk about whatever we wanted."

The glint of happy nostalgia in Rootspring's eyes was more than enough to smother any sliver of annoyance Shadowsight could have with him for stopping his walk back. Rootspring continued still,

"And I know, I know we were just apprentices and we have duties now, and you're a full medicine cat but–" He caught himself, as if about to start rambling. "But I thought I'd let you know I was thinking about you."

Rootspring smiled. Weakly, and with effort, but it felt like a miracle to Shadowsight. He looked behind himself.

"I should catch up with Puddleshine, I can't keep him waiting."

Shadowsight continued speaking before Rootspring could finish nodding in resigned agreement.

"We should do that. Talk, that is. We're not apprentices anymore, but we're still friends, right?"

Rootspring's eyes lit up for the first time Shadowsight could remember since they'd left for the Dark Forest.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course we're still friends. Nothing could've stopped that."

"Can you get up tomorrow at moonhigh?"

"Easily."

"Great. Great! We can walk the lakeshore, if that's alright with you?"

"That sounds perfect."

Rootspring spoke with the relief of a warrior suddenly unburdened by a heavy weight.

Shadowsight was able to tell that his friend was sick with grief. And it had always been his duty to help sick cats, no matter what.

And maybe the next night, the moon just a bit more full in the sky, Rootspring would find himself right on the shore in front of the SkyClan and ShadowClan border. He'd be early, breathing in the night air, and Shadowsight would push through the growth to join him right on cue. They'd stand there together like that for a minute, just nodding at each other and then taking in the gentle surroundings before they look at each other once more, moonlight glistening in their eyes.

They didn't talk for the first stretch of their walk, just following along the lakeside. They walked not in silence, but in tandem with the waves of the lake and the rustles of flora. Eventually, Rootspring breathed deep, and spoke up.

"It's weird, right? Like our whole lives were about the Dark Forest and Ashfur and then it just– ended. And took Bristlefrost with it. But..."

"But we're still here?" Shadowsight responded.

"But we're still here." Rootspring agreed. "We just have to keep waking up and eating and going on patrol like nothing happened."

"Well..." Shadowsight said. "We know what happened."

Rootspring sighed tired, but ultimately fondly.

"Yeah. We know what happened."

I think Rootspring and Shadowsight would continue this tradition for a moon. Once every few days they'd sacrifice sleep in order to just wander little sections of shoreline and talk, about Bristlefrost and about the forest, and also about their current lives. About their clans, and food, and weather. A few days in, Rootspring would look to Shadowsight and see his usual helpful medicine cat face give way to something else, something so much heavier. He realized that Shadowsight was doing this just as much for himself as he was doing it for Rootspring, which just made them it more important.

Maybe after a little less than a moon of this, Rootspring would look for Shadowsight in the crowd of the gathering. Once they found each other, they'd use the pre-gathering time to slip off into the brambles at the edge of the island, momentarily alone. The routine slipped into place quickly, doing their usual back and forth for a few moments before settling down and breathing before they knew the gathering would begin. The full moon shone divinely onto the waters of the lake. Rootspring laughed quietly.

"You know what this reminds me of? Bristlefrost and I sneaking off to the riverside to be with each other on our mission to find the Sisters. We were so sappy back then."

Rootspring chuckled to himself, and caught glimpse of Shadowsight staring at him, similarly warm with happiness. Shadowsight opened his mouth as if it speak, and paused for a moment, thinking.

"I think that's the first time you've talked about her so lighthearted like that recently. It's really nice to see."

Rootspring knew Shadowsight was a skilled medicine cat. He'd almost forgotten how good a friend he was, too. It was as if his words held the same healing properties as his herbs. Maybe they did, Rootspring didn't know the details of medicine cat abilities.

Tigerstar's words rang across the island and the voices of chatting warriors hushed down, and the two toms had to return to their spots quickly.

Their talks would continue, their friendly laughs and nudges and bumps of their heads.

I like to think they're still friends.

[the-hinky-panda]

Strings: Part II

Title: Strings

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Les Packer x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Les had been high school sweethearts. You're going to be a music teacher, he's going to climb the ranks of the SAMDINO MC. The only thing that stands in your way is his mentally unstable brother, Isaac. Things fall apart and fifteen years later, your daughter calls Les for help when you're in a coma and she's trying to figure out how to stay out of foster care. Les is faced with figuring out if you daughter is his or possibly Isaac's. Either way, he can't walk away for a second time from you and your daughter.

TW: This chapter has a mention of rape.

Les Packer is a tough son of a bitch and there is very little that surprises or unnerves him. Seeing you lying in a hospital bed, tubes and IVs and monitors surround you makes his heart race and his palms sweat. The constant beeping of your heartbeat, the whoosh of the ventilator, the ticking of your brain waves are all hopeful signs that you’ll survive this but the constant noise grates at his nerves. Your coloring is off, your eyes closed, your hands are still. He remembers you always being so animated, bright, and full of life. You didn’t stay still for longer than necessary.

You’re almost unrecognizable. 

Almost. 

Zoey goes through the routine of setting down her backpack in one of the pastel vinyl chairs in the room, opening the blinds, and putting fresh water in a plastic vase of drooping roses. She picks up the dropped petals and drops them into the small trash can in the bathroom. The routine has come so naturally to her, she seems to forget that he’s even in the room at the moment. It’s when she turns from the trash can that she seems to finally notice him. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” 

Les smooths a hand over the soft leather of his kutte, wishing he could touch you. But it’s been so long, too much damage hangs between the two of you. Damage he had hoped one day to fix but it seems time may have run out. “It’s been sixteen years.” 

Your hair has been braided, the thick rope draped over the side of your bruised neck and shoulder. Zoey carefully undoes the plait and gently brushes your hair. There’s no movement from you whatsoever, no flicker of eye movement, tic of your cheek. He steps up to the other side of the bed and slips his hand into yours. His fingertips brush over yours, looking for the familiar callouses he had come to love feeling against his skin. But they’re not there anymore. Another thing lost. 

Zoey turns those blue-green eyes towards him, studying his face with a shrewd intelligence, as she rebraids your hair. She almost looks like Isaac in her intensity, her planning and scheming. “She told me my father died before I was born.” 

It’s almost a challenge but more of a question. He wonders if she went home last night and recognized her eyes in the mirror, that she saw the similarities that he did. That she has the same questions he does: who is her father? There’s only one person who can answer that and you may never be able to solve that mystery for them. 

He understands, with almost a sad resignation, why you would have said that and it only seems to confirm his suspicions. He stays quiet, neither confirming or denying anything. He had been hopeful last night when he had returned home that Zoey had been his own child, born out of passion, love, and joy. Instead, evidence is pointing to his unstable brother and his off the charts intelligence. This struggle brings back another time with stunning clarity when he struggled with the idea of Zoey being his daughter or his niece. 

He’d been standing in front of your door for ten minutes, squeezing and twisting the soft stuffed rabbit in his hand. This was the third time he’s ridden down to Santee, a suburb of San Diego that was dilapidated and falling down. He wished you would get a better lock on your door, carry mace or a knife on your person. But he did see how the community treats you and it’s with nothing but kindness. 

Especially now that the baby was born. 

A little girl with your dark hair and bright blue eyes. She’s beautiful and fierce. And he wants nothing more than to protect you both. But he can’t. That night at the clubhouse, in the middle of the chaos of celebration with a group of Sons from Seattle, proved he couldn’t protect you. That’s why he didn’t blame you for leaving him and San Bernardino. You deserved so much better, as does the little girl you’ve been gifted. 

He took an envelope out of his back pocket. It had a note, words filled with regret, bitterness, and a need for forgiveness, that he had spent hours writing. It also had $500 in it, a pitiful amount to help as best he can with this burden you’ve taken on yourself. He wanted you to know he realized just how much he failed you. How he failed your child. How desperate he was to make it up to you both, if it was at all possible. But then he recalls that night with razor sharp clarity:  you in the dim light of the clubhouse, holding your ripped blouse closed, a dark navy shirt with bright yellow lemons on it. It’s a sunny, happy shirt that you only wear on special occasions. There was a thin rivulet of blood running from your nose, some of it already smeared as you had tried to wipe it away. Your eyes, dark ringed with smudged mascara, downcast and tear filled as you slipped out the backdoor. 

He removed the note from the envelope. He didn’t deserve forgiveness for that. Not yet at least. When he trades in his Sergeant at Arms flash for the Vice President, and then the President’s flash, when he officially takes Isaac’s kutte from him and banishes him for good from the club and San Bernardino, then he can come ask for your forgiveness. Until that happens, he has no right to invade your life.  So he set down the stuffed rabbit with the envelope of money in front of your door and left. 

“Mr. Packer?”

“Les.” He chuckles. “Well, when CPS comes around, better call me Uncle Les.” 

Zoey finishes off your braid and ties the end, a small smile on her face. “Uncle Les. I like that.” 

He likes Uncle Les. 

He would prefer Dad.

[reallybadfeeling]

My Obikin Playlist Masterpost

I'm gonna try to explain my reasoning, but you can give each song whatever interpretation you want. Also, use them however you want if any of them inspire you to make something creative.

(PS: Sorry for my ranting on the first song. I'm very passionate about it in particular.) (Tagging @imtryingsstuff because she asked for it. Even though I was already working on this post before she asked. I have way too much free time.)

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❧ Heart + Bones - Roisin O

I've tried to sit down and write this song out Feels like a thousand times But I was always too scare of what I might find But if I keep on blocking this pain out It might be too late To heal my heart somehow Don't wanna open that wound Don't wanna replay that night Don't wanna think about you You are no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know that love is gone 'Cause if I let myself think of you I might lose my mind It's the heart and bones It's an empty soul The dreams at night that shake me to my core And I can't get up off this floor It's in the bones of me An empty soul in me The dreams at night that shake me to my core I can't get off this floor [...] Don't wanna think about you When you're no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know this love is gone [...] The dreams at night that shake me to my core I just can't take this hurting anymore [...] Don't wanna think about you You are no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know this love is gone 'Cause if I let my mind think of you I might lose it all I've tries to sit down and write this song out Feels like a thousand times

A fair warning: each and every break-up song in this playlist is basically me crying at the idea of a very heart broken Obi-Wan post RotS alone on Tatooine. But for this song in particolar I mention the repetitions with the slight differences because in my eyes they are actually HUGE! The more the song goes on, the more Obi-Wan is spiraling! The way it specifically tells that the empty soul is his the second time, like he accepts that despite what Anakin did he still thinks there's a soul there to save, and the idea of not doing so makes his soul feel empty. And the switch from "get up off this floor" to "get off this floor", literally him being so desperate he stops thinking that he wants to get up (and the last time it literally becomes "i just can't take this hurting anymore", because Obi-Wan had to see so many people he loves die, he literally can't take any more breaking of his heart). The first "you are no longer mine" is the realization hitting him, but then it becomes "when you are no longer mine" and that feels like acceptance of that realization (but then later in the song it turns back to "you are no longer mine" like he's so desperate he wants to deny it once again, distance himself from it)! The switch from "that love" from "this love", like the first time he's thinking about how Anakin no longer loves him, but then realizes that no matter how much he still loves Anakin, there is actually nothing he can do about how everything is broken. But most of all the first time it's "if I let myself think of you I might lose my mind", which is Obi-Wan still being rational about things, or at least trying not to let his mind linger on the thought of Anakin; but then at the end it becomes "if I let my mind think of you I might lose it all", because he's already thinking about Anakin and he can't let his mind linger on it, otherwise he would realize how much he lost when he lost Anakin, which is everything. And the ending too, by repeating the start, but now it has a feeling of resignation to it, like at first he was literally scared to let himself linger on his feelings because he knew he would find heart break, but now he's just empty and at the same times he knows he'll feel like that a thousand times more, because he just can't let that hurt go, he can't let his love for Anakin be forgotten. ... I love this song and it shows. I mean, the playlist is literally named after it for a good reason. I swear I'll be less wordy for every other explanation.

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❧ Black Hole - Griff

It seems like things are going really well for you I wish that I could say the same about me too I wish that I could say the same [...] Without a trace You disappeared and took some of me with you, babe Like the way I used to laugh untile my belly ached Well, that's all gone away now And boy, you know I've tried to pray, I've bruised my knees I've tried to bring you back to me I've tried my best to find some kind of peace Don't you see? There's a big black hole where my heart used to be And I've tried my best to fill it up with things I don't need It don't work like that, no, it's not easy To fill this gap that you left in me

So, I see this as a song for an AU, maybe a Modern Au. Something basic like the two of them maybe being neighbors and Obi-Wan maybe being a tutor for Anakin when he was a teen, and Anakin having a huge crush on him. But then Obi-Wan marries and Anakin is heart broken. (Don't worry the idea is also that Obi-Wan gets a divorce and comes back to Anakin, but still, the song fits for the first part of this idea). But feel free to see whatever else you want in it.

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❧ Gone, Gone, Gone - Phillip Phillips

I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bride To make you well, to make you well When enemies are at your door I'll carry you away from war [...] Give me reasons to believe That you would do the same for me And I will do it for you, for you Baby, I'm not moving on I'll love you long after you're gone

This is honestly a classic. It would fit with any ship, but that line about lying, cheating, etc... That screams Anakin. Like, literally canon that he would do anything to keep the person he loves with him.

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❧ What You Talking About? - Peter Bjorn and John

You used to be my hero Now you're just another boss [...] Five years as your understudy When I can't understand what you talking about [...] Tell me lies and I will listen Tell the truth and I'll be gone Tell me why I need permission [...] Shining in your shadow How could I sink this low? Our acquaintance has been so-so And I can't understand where my patience's gone

These lyrics just give me very frustrated Anakin as a Padawan trying to navigate his relationship with Obi-Wan. Not very romantic or shippy, but still relevant in my opinion.

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❧ Bruci la città - Irene Grandi

(Let) The city burn down or live in fear (that) within two hours everything will disappear anything else will disappear [...] I can't stop (myself) from screaming That I hold you to my heart To protect you from evil That I wish I could soothe Your pain, your pain [...] (Let) The stars explode (Let) The whole thing explode (Let) Everything other than the two of us die At least for a little bit At least as a mistake [...] I want to get my act together Maybe be better And shield you with my heart From catastrophe and fear

Don't really know why, but this makes me think of a quiet moment in the middle of the Clone Wars, just Anakin and Obi-Wan alone in a tent, hoping to have a moment of peace in each other's arms. (If you want the full lyrics translated let me know, I just picked my favorite parts)

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❧ Atlantis - Seafret

We got here the hard way All those words that we exchange Is it any wonder things get dark? 'Cause it's in my heart, it's in my head I never take back the things I said [...] I can't save us My Atlantis, we fall We've built this town on shaky ground [...] Now all the birds have fled The hurt just leaves me scared Losing everything I've ever known It's all become too much Maybe I'm not built for love If I knew that I could reach you, I would go

SO MUCH OBI-WAN ANGST POST-ROTS! Like, the birds that have fled are the Jedi that survived Order 66, the things impossible to take back a reference to the entire conversation between Anakin and Obi-Wan during their duel... And the one thing that always breaks me: "maybe I'm not built for love", which makes me think about that "infinte sadness" thing that comes from one of the novels. *chef kiss*

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❧ No Time To Die - Billie Eilish

I should have known I'd leave alone Just goes to show That the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe We were a pair [...] You were my life, but like is far away from fair Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else? That I'd fallen for a lie You were never on my side [...] I let it burn You're no longer my concern Faces from my past return Another lesson yet to learn

Don't know about you, but this always makes me think of a lonely and bitter Obi-Wan after RotS. There's also another way of reading this honestly. This could absolutely be Anakin spiraling at the end of RotS, convinced that Padmé doesn't love him anymore; and then Vader facing Luke (the face from the past returning) and realizing the one who always lied to him was Palpatine.

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❧ White Flag - Dido

I know I left too much mess and Destruction to come back again And I caused nothing but trouble I understand if you can't talk to me again And if you live by the rules of "it's over" Then I'm sure that that makes sense But I will go down with this ship And I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door I'm in love and always will be And when we meet Which I'm sure we will All that was there Will be there still I'll let it pass And hold my tongue And you will think That I've moved on

There's no doubt that this song has been overused. And it is a very classic meme, so sometimes it's hard to take it seriously. But I still love it. And I can't help but relate this to something with Vader trying to redeem himself but failing at that too, and his and Obi-Wan's relationship still being broken as fuck.

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❧ Fight the End - The playground

When it's all falling apart I'll be the one who can hold you Console you When everything's getting dark And you can't find the spark To get through I'll fight for you till the end Whatever's broken I'll mend For you If you think it's all gone Just breathe in and hold on Till the end of time

Once again, just some H/C during the Clone Wars kind vibes, but also good for an apocalypse AU of some kind.

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❧ Hanging On A Lie - Striking Matches

I'm not mentioning a specific part of this song, because the entire thing in my head is just the whole journey of Anakin turning to the Dark Side and then turning back to the Light right before he died. Seriously, up until the first chorus, it's just Anakin talking about what he feels like about Padmé's supposed betrayal. ("Baby you've been up to something / don't you tell me it's not what it looks like" but also "I might have been naive but I'm not blind" and "Don't you know you should know better than this / Than to cover up the truth with your poisonous lips/I'm not falling for it this time"). The second half of the song is Vader facing Luke. ("I'll be the one who got away from you when you / finally figure it out / you won't find me"). And the last part is Vader realizing all the lies Palpatine told him all alon. ("I'm not fallin' for it this time/try and try too little too late" and again the "you should know better than this/than to cover up the truth with you poisonous lips") A bit of a weird interpretation, that's for sure. But look at me making a song about cheating all about Anakin's journey!

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❧ Bloodsport '15 - Raleigh Ritchie

Your love is worth it and for that I will wait And though you hate me when you have a turn I drive you crazy, but you always return [...] Although you love me, sometimes we're mean Things can get ugly, but we're still a team We are an army that breaks from withing but That's why we're stronger and that's how we'll win [...] I've got your back, and though it's stacked against us I've got your hand, it's us against consensus And I will burn the people who hurt you the worst and I will no learn Cause I am too young and too dumb to consider the terms of breaking the law And I'll curse the day that they return With a smile on my face as their heads hit the floor And they're done, now it's curtains, the bloodlust's a clusterfuck, it hurts but it's working And even if you ask me to stop, it's too late because I've already decided their fate It's not a distaste, it's pure hate and it pulsates and it works its way around my brain Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I'll protect you till the day I meet my maker So don't fight me now cause you might need me later Loving you is a bloodsport Fighting in a love war It's not what I'm in love for, I'm yours I don't know if you can help it, maybe I'm just being selfish

Soooo, basically Anakin doing to Obi-Wan what he did to Padmé: loving him so much he thinks he has to turn to the Dark Side to save him. The first part I can almost imagine said by Obi-Wan, actually. Like, he's aware that sometimes Anakin hates their dynamics, but also that they are both in love... Which just ends with total madness.

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❧ Sweet Love of Mine - Joy Williams

I was broken, I was blind Lost in a moment I thought I left behind Then you woke up this dark soul of mine Carrying a light I thought I'd never find When you found me, I was all alone The whole world around me, but nowhere to call home I heard your voice sing like heaven's choir Gathered up my fears and threw them in the fire

I'm well aware this song is about pregnancy and how the singer found herself in the experience of becoming a mother. BUT, hear me out: what about an AU with either one of them being a Sith and the other one is still a Jedi. Instead of fighting each other, the Jedi tries to save the Sith, because they realize that the Sith actually never had a chance to be anything else since they grew up with a Sith as their "parent" and Master. But if we still want to keep the pregnancy element, fuck it! It's perfect for an Omegaverse AU, with Anakin maybe about to fall when he finds out he's pregnant and that is how Obi-Wan and their unborn child save Anakin. (Is this very specific? Yes. Do I care? Nope, and that's why this song made it into the playlist.)

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❧ Senza fare sul serio - Malika Ayane

There's a post on my blog already about why this song makes me think about the Jedi Order in general. I know I should probably keep it in a different playlist. Alas, it's still here. Have a link to my previous post if you are interested on reading a complete translation and the explanation of my reasoning. HERE!

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❧ Conversations in the Dark - John Legend

I will never try to change you, change you I will always want the same you, same you Swear on everything I pray to That I won't break your heart I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely Keep the secrets that you told me, told me And your love is all you owe me And I won't break your heart [...] And we, we got places we both gotta be But there ain't nothing I would rather do Then blow off all my plans for you

It's just such a lovely love song, I couldn't help myself. This seriously gives me sappy Obi-Wan vibes in any way, shape or form.

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❧ If You Ever Leave, I'm Coming With You - The Wombats

You know I'll do Whatever you want me to [...] Take you out of this You reluctant optimist And if you ever leave, I'm coming with you Stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe If you ever leave, I'm coming with you [...] Am I losing you in the dark baby? No more breaking stuff No more acting up Filling your head with doubt

A song about the obsessive kind of love that hints of a way too dependent relationship? Something that mentions losing themselves in the dark? Of fucking course I relate this to Anakin and the way he loves people!

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❧ Transplant - Sea Girls

You're breaking all the promises tonight I'm always dancing by myself as the music plays I'm always one step behind, off-beat, out of place Now I'm looking for you, you're looking away [...] Your heart changed Mine stayed the same I don't recognize your voice when you're saying my name Your heart changed And mine beats the same way [...] Wish I could be back in the moment We were shining, we were making mistakes 'Til your heart changed Mine stayed the same

Have I mentioned that I have a lot of RotS feels? Yeah, so, in my head the "dancing" works like an analogy to fighting and the "music" is literally the sound of battle. Which is why this fits perfectly as far as I'm concerned. An even the "always one step behind" part is just Obi-Wan not realizing Anakin was slowly turning to the Dark Side. But it can be related also to how Anakin basically felt like he didn't truly belong with the Jedi.

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❧ Read my Mind - JONES

Can't control my thoughts But I'm trying every day [...] But sometimes I want impossible things When you hear my voice, what does it say? Need a language, we're lost in translation From impossible thoughts and feelings Why don't you know before I know? What I need to say, before I can How come you don't have the answer Before I asked you the question? Wish you could read my mind [...] It's been a long time since we've been together In the same world, just want you to look at me Like I was everything you ever wanted again [...] Just hold me like I'm everything you wanted again

A good song of the two people pining will always make me think of those two dorks. And their feeling are definitely lost in translation even in canon, with Anakin never realizing how much Obi-Wan actually cares for him because of Palpatine's manipulations.

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❧ So Much It Hurts - Niki & The Dove

Oh, I ask you where you've been 'Cause you always come home late nowadays What a fool was I to think we were safe From the thieves in the temple [...] Oh, won't you bring it back? After all that we've been through together Is it now you gonna throw it all away? Oh, a love like ours Tell me, was it worth it? Oh, the thieves in the temple Oh, but you said that For better for worse You would always be there for me Always be there for me Always be there for me like I'll always be there for you Good times and bad times

So this screams Padmé being cheated on. Like, Anakin still married to her, yet he is always sneaking away after they spend time together to be in the Temple with Obi-Wan. Like, Obi-Wan is literally the thief in the Temple that steals Anakin away from her. (Which I'm sure is actually a metaphor for how the couples' marriage is the temple and someone is disrespecting it by taking away the other's lover. But look at me making this literal, 'cause why not!).

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❧ Power & Control - Marina

Give a little, get a lot That's just how you are with love [...] Think you're funny, think you're smart Think you're gonna break my heart Think you're funny, think you're smart Yeah, you may be good looking But you're not a piece of art [...] Power and control I'm gonna make you fall I'm gonna make you fall We give and take a little more 'Cause all my life I've been controlled You can't have peace without a war

Another song for an AU, this time one with both of them being Sith, most likely being enemies too at first. Before they decide to work together against Anakin's Master.

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❧ No Hero - Elisa

Don't you shut your eyes And hide you heart behind a shadow 'Cause you can count on me As long as I can breathe [...] I've fallen from grace Yeah, I'm much less a saint than a sinner Oh, no I ain't no superhuman 'Cause that's just in the movies, I know But I'll carry you throught the night Through the storm Give you love, always love in return I can't jump over buildings I'm no hero But love can do miracles I can't outrun a bullet 'Cause I'm no hero But I would take one for you [...] 'Cause I'm no hero But I'd spill my blood for you If you need me to I'll be there

Another song from an Italian artist, but this one is in English! And I totally see this song for a scenario where one of the two isn't a Jedi or even for a Modern AU. But it can totally work for Canon compliant too because Anakin is the one every calls hero with no fear. It fits then if Obi-Wan tells Anakin that he doesn't feel like a hero, but he would do anything for Anakin.

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SOOOO, this post is getting way to long (like, it was way too long even just with the first song). And I made it to an even 20 songs. I feel like this a nice place to stop for now. Don't worry, these are just the first 20. I have more in my private playlist, but I want to make another post like this when I add them to the public one. Because I can. And that's what I'm gonna do.

[kazuharem]

“Partners in Pleasure” ↠ Lucien x MC [SMUT]

AO3 Link: here

Pairing: Lucien x Female MC (Pre-Eternal Winter Lucien if you squint)

Part II of the “Forgive and Forget” Series. This is “Forget”

Part I: here (I strongly suggest reading this first if you haven’t)

Spoiler Warnings: CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM CHAPTERS 24 AND AFTER

SPOILERS CONTAINS/MENTIONS:

◦ CH. 21, 24, and after (?) ◦ Lucien’s “Dumbstruck Date,” “Hiking Date,” and “Gloomy Date” ◦ Lucien’s phone calls “Promise” and “Origami Class” ◦ Lucien’s Rumors & Secrets “Beneath the Iceberg”

Other Warnings: Rough/oral/unprotected s&x, fingering, edging, begging, jealous!Lucien

Genre: Angst, Smut

Description: Lucien gets jealous of...Lucien and proposes an addition to their cooperation

Summary: “Did 'he' touch you like this? Your 'Lucien?'"

Word Count: 8,500

Author’s Note: This has been inspired by my frustrations with “Gloomy Date” (I am not okay). Also, I heard Taylor Swift's "Illicit Affairs" and thought it sort of fit the setting for this. (I don't actually know anymore, this game has ruined me, ok). 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, plots, artwork. They belong to ELEX and Paper Games. Lyrics of “This Love” and "Illicit Affairs" belong to Taylor Swift. Like always, lines taken straight from the plot have "*" in front of it. Please enjoy (and cry with me)!

⊱ ──────ஓ���♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

“Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times” 

Lucien gazed at his computer screen. After knowing that his research would come to fruition in three years, he had been throwing himself into work. Ever since the Queen had agreed to cooperate with him and get information together, Lucien had been working endlessly. Even though getting the Queen’s cooperation meant having access to a shortcut that many would absolutely kill to get their hands on, he had been hesitant about using the Queen’s genes. A part of him didn’t want her to become something of a lab rat in his research. He frowned slightly. Focus on work, he told himself sternly. Stop thinking about her. But it was useless. These past few weeks, she had been popping up unbidden in his thoughts. He would often wonder if she’s doing alright, whether she was safe or not. It was one of the reasons why Lucien hadn’t contacted her ever since they had gone hiking that day. That had been well over a month now. His fingers paused on his keyboard. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of déjà vu. Sighing, Lucien took off his glasses and pressed his fingertips to his eyelids.

A series of images appeared before his closed eyes. An elegant bar in a classy hotel suite. A small stage with a microphone. A text unanswered: *<Come to our team party in 3 days at the Petrichor. I want you to come, but I understand if you’re busy> A question asked: *“Who is most important to you and why?” A song shared between two lovers.

A groan broke the still, midnight air. These visions made no sense to Lucien. They weren’t concrete enough to be pieced together, but he guessed that it was from the other ‘him.’ That made absolutely no sense since they were in two completely different timelines. How could these memories appear in his head if the two timelines were independent of each other? Lucien shook his head and closed the graphs on his computer. He then opened the folder labeled “Memory.” It was still empty. Frowning, he typed a series of sequences and waited. An error message popped up and his head dropped into his hands with a sigh. He knew a lot of his questions would be answered if he could retrieve the lost Dream Test data. But for whatever reason, nothing he tried seemed to work.

Lucien gazed at the moonless night and his thoughts wandered back to that day she had purposefully lured him out to Ultima Bioresearch Center. He recalled the forlorn expression on her face as she stubbornly told him *she wanted to learn about the Queen’s existence, despite him telling her that the truth will bring nothing but destructive repercussions.

*“With truth always come pain and suffering. I will not run from it. Someone important to me told me this and that he would be with me along the way. I believe in him.”

His fist unknowingly curled into a tight fist. He still didn’t know why he had felt so angry hearing her speak about the important person in her life. Why should he care?

And then later, she had showed no regard for her own safety, but worried more about him being hurt.

*“My instincts led me here. Because someone once told me to trust my instincts when in danger.”

And then he remembered the way she had reached for him when he had slipped, causing both of them to tumble down the hill.

*“I couldn’t leave you injured alone.”

She’d rather both of them get hurt than Lucien getting hurt alone. Lucien’s lips curved up in a small smile, “Silly girl,” he mused aloud to the silent room, a hint of fondness creeping into his voice. He stared at his reflection off the dark computer screen, still displaying that error message. What’s gotten into him? It was like her innocent smile had taken root within his heart making him addicted and hopelessly so. The feelings stirred up the urge to protect her, to want to keep her safe.

“Fool.”

He didn’t know if the word uttered was directed to the girl or to himself.

His phone lit up, catching his attention, and he gazed at the screen. Lucien smiled unconsciously; it was like his thoughts about her had physically manifested into this text message.

*<Haven’t we agreed to cooperate? We should at least exchange information on a regular basis>

He chuckled at her aggressiveness and was about to reply when suddenly a sharp pain pierced through his chest, leaving him gasping for breath. Setting the phone down, he managed to grab a recording pen from his drawer before doubling over in pain. Responding to her would have to wait.

The next morning, Lucien invited her to a bookstore near her home. She was right. They should exchange information on a regular basis. One month had been far too long and Lucien could hardly admit to himself that he did missed her.

He hesitated and added: *<It’s okay if you’re not. I’m going to spend the whole day there anyway. You can come look for me anytime you have time>

Glancing at the clock, Lucien sipped his coffee and flipped through the pages of the book he was holding. He had no doubt that she would come.

After an hour or so, he sensed her presence and lifted his head. And there she was, throwing the world into faint colors. There was a nervous look on her face, but that steadfast determination was always present. She looked tired, but Lucien had never felt such sudden happiness at the mere sight of her. Lucien watched her approach and saw the image of him and only him reflected in her beautiful eyes. That observation filled Lucien with some sort of pride and his heart swelled. He was the only one in her eyes. As she was for him.

He smiled at her as she pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. They made small talk before a waiter brought over the food he had ordered.

*“Have something to eat first,” Lucien invited, nodding at the waffle and ice cream.

Her face tightened, *“I’m not hungry.”

Still so stubborn. Lucien wanted to laugh. Instead, he started cutting the waffle for her. *“It’s okay to be angry at me, but don’t starve yourself,” he said, handing her the cutlery. Lucien could see the hesitation in her eyes as she gazed apprehensively at him. He chuckled. *“I won’t know how to share these interesting stories with you if you keep starving yourself. Before you came, I was reading a very interesting fairytale about a…” He intentionally trailed off.

That did it. Her eyes widened in interest. *“A what?” She asked curiously despite her reservations.

Lucien smiled again and pushed the plate closer to her as an answer. Resigned, she began eating quietly as he watched her. He enjoyed watching her, seeing her eat drew up inexplicable emotions within him. How domestic. He wanted to laugh at himself. Moments where he felt entirely content were rare and they only occurred in her presence. He was never one to enjoy such simple pleasures. Silly girl, what did you do to me?

She finished and looked up at him. He smiled approvingly and was about to say something when he felt that familiar sharp pain in his chest.

No! Not now! Of all the times, why does it have to be now?

His fists clenched as he tried hard to hide the pain that was threatening to bow him over.

Her eyebrows drew together anxiously. *“Are you okay?” He should’ve known that nothing would escape her gaze.

Struggling to keep the pain down and reassure her at the same time, Lucien sucked in a shuddering breath as he gave her some stupid excuse. She didn’t need to see this. And he didn’t want her to see him like this, didn’t want her to worry about him. Lucien was also afraid that if his EVOL were to go out of control, he could hurt her. He needed to leave before that could happen. *“I’m afraid I can’t accompany you today.” He stood up to leave when she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. His eyes narrowed as his body trembled. *“You want me to stay?”

*“I just want to take you to the hospital,” she bit her lip, worry evident in those eyes.

*“You’re putting yourself in danger for stopping me like this,” Lucien could barely hold himself up as he grit out those words. It was getting harder and harder to breathe by the second.

Silly girl, have you no sense for your own safety?

She stared defiantly at him, *“If the danger is from you, I think I can handle it.” She reached out to grab his arm. “Don’t underestimate me. I am Queen.” Determination blazed in her eyes. It was the first time Lucien had heard her state her title with such fierceness. “I’m not going to sit here and ignore what’s happening to my partner.” Lucien staggered to his feet as sweat poured down his back. She steadied him. *“Come back with me if you don’t want to go to the hospital. You need a safe place to rest. I’ve helped you twice, so can you at least trust me once?”

Lucien wanted to chuckle at her words. She always had her guard up around him, always appeared so reserved. It was her who didn’t trust him, yet she was blatantly asking that he trust her. Very well, he would place his trust in this silly girl. He nodded slowly as he carefully gathered the books.

*“Since I’ve promised to share with you some interesting stories... I can’t go back on my word,” he answered her questioning glance and handed her some of the books. “On the way back, you can see if any of these books interest you.” She appeared indifferent, but the turmoil in her eyes proved otherwise. Lucien frowned slightly but had no time to dwell on that matter as he lurched forward, the pain becoming more and more intense.

*She allowed him to lean on her shoulders as she dragged them to her apartment. The moment she opened her apartment door, Lucien stumbled over to the couch, loosening his tie. He tried to take in breaths as he shuddered, nearly bowed over with pain. Seeing how worried the girl looked, Lucien grabbed her wrist and tried to reassure her.

*“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked, thick concern lacing her voice.

*“…I never thought…I’d become the one who always needs protection…when I’m with you,” Lucien gasped out, still holding tightly onto her wrist. And it was true. It was she who had saved him from getting stabbed by Hades. It was she who had tumbled down a hill together with him for fear of him getting hurt. And now, it was she who had brought him back to her apartment so that he could be in a safe place.

She bit her lip anxiously, not knowing what to do or say as her hands clenched nervously.

*When Lucien felt the pain subsiding, he reached out to pat her head. “I’m alright now,” he tried to console her. Silly girl, don’t worry so much about me.

She stood up shakily and exhaled. “Let me get you some water,” she murmured.

*“Thank you,” Lucien said softly when she came back. Her forehead was still creased with worry and Lucien felt a different pang in his chest. It seemed that he always managed to put her in some kind of pain. *“I’m alright now. But you still look quite nervous.” He sat up slowly.

*“Do you…need anything? I have some painkillers,” she offered, still watching him with concern. “Or…Let me take you inside to get some rest?” She added hesitantly.

Lucien stood up slowly and she grabbed him to lead him to her bedroom. He held on tight to her.

*“Rest here. I’ll be reading outside,” she said quietly and turned to leave, but Lucien didn’t let go of her.

Much too trusting.

The feelings of wanting to protect her overwhelmed him and he tugged her hand, pulling her onto the bed.

Shocked, she gaped up at him.

*“I’m really worried about how you react in the face of danger,” Lucien spoke up, his voice was low. “You shouldn’t let your guard down in front of a new partner you just met.”

So naïve. So innocent.

She struggled to free her hands, *“Let go of me,” she glared up at him.

Ignoring her futile attempts to escape, Lucien continued, *“What makes you so sure that you can handle it?”

The girl didn’t answer and glared angrily at him.

Sudden movement near the window caught Lucien’s eyes. A flock of paper origami butterflies hanging in strands above the bed fluttered in the wind, almost as if they were taking flight. Lucien loosened his hold on the girl underneath him, letting her go. He quickly moved away from her. There was the tiniest bit of shock that passed across his gaze before it was steeled away behind stormy eyes.

*“Sorry,” Lucien muttered, his voice was solemn and tinged with regret. He had almost lost control. How did that happen? *“What happened to me was completely unexpected,” he began hesitatingly. Trying to compose himself, he continued, *“I feel that I should formally apologize to you, in all aspects… And I’m also thankful for your trust and for you taking care of me.” She wasn’t looking at him. Lucien swallowed. *“Did I…scare you?”

*“Just a little,” she replied quietly, finally turning to meet his gaze. He couldn’t read her expression. It was closed off, but within her eyes, there were swirling emotions which looked like they might break through the surface if Lucien pushed her just a bit.

*“When did I scare you? Was it when I wasn’t feeling well…or just now when I…” he trailed off.

*“When you weren’t feeling well,” she cut in. Her gaze turned sharp, *“Before today, I thought you were at least capable of taking care of yourself.” Lucien could sense disappointment in her voice.

He smiled wryly, “I see that I have let you down.”

She eyed him cautiously, but her expression still contained traces of worry. *“So, you have no intention of telling me what happened to you exactly?”

*“As a matter of fact, I never intended to hide anything from you since the beginning,” Lucien answered honestly, *“Before I handed you the key to the Black Cabin, I tried to explore its secrets. As a result, there were some effects.” He saw her brows crease and spoke up hastily, *“But don’t worry, they are gradually fading away. Their frequency and duration are both decreasing. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days.”

There were still worry between her brows. Lucien had an urge to press it out, but he didn’t. “This one month you’ve disappeared for…” she began slowly.

What a strange girl. She knew he was dangerous and yet she was constantly worried about him.

*“I had other matters to attend to besides dealing with the side effects,” Lucien interjected smoothly. A breeze blew in, sending the paper butterflies flying again. Lucien moved off the bed and finally turned his attention to them. *“Did you fold them?” He asked quietly, fingers brushing across the delicate creatures. “So pretty,” the words slipped out of his mouth of their own accord.

And suddenly Lucien had a vision of paper cranes hanging in strings, just like these butterflies, against a window in which gray rain beat down upon.

“Why are you being gentle to me again?”

*“A very interesting question. But, before answering you, I also want to clear something up. Each time I push you away, why do you keep coming back to me?”

A singular paper crane came into mind, with a tearstain blot mottling its wings.

*“That’s my answer. But the process of achieving this takes time and patience.”

As fast as the vision had appeared, it was gone the moment Lucien tried to grasp onto it. His eyes widened imperceptibly. Where did that come from? The voices that had whispered the words…It was no doubt his voice and hers. But Lucien did not recall those words ever leaving his mouth. And yet, just like the dream he had, he felt an intimate familiarity. Is this…could this be the missing data from the Dream Test?

Not noticing his confusion, the girl stood up and closed the window. Silently, she began untangling the strings next to him.

*“Can you teach me how to fold them when you’re free?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he could even think about it.

*Her fingers froze. “No…” her voice was hushed, shaky with unshed tears. “I don’t think you’d be interested in such meaningless stuff right now.”

Did she used to fold these with the other ‘him’?

Lucien paused, “Right now?” He asked, smiling as he reached out to help her. *“If it’s something ‘he’ likes, I’ll probably be interested too.” Lucien’s voice hardened. There was emphasis on the “he.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out who he had meant.

This was entirely ridiculous. Why was he feeling this way? There was no need for him to feel like this. After all, this was him from another time, another dimension.

She looked at him in shock, speechless.

Lucien chose his next words carefully, *“You are the Queen, so maybe you can stand on a higher dimension and see the truth that I can’t,” he smiled wryly, “So I believe that you have your reasons for every word that you say and every choice that you make.” He finished untangling the butterflies for her, but a certain one caught his eye. “Something seems to be hidden in this origami butterfly?” His fingers caressed the extra thick butterfly. “But I suppose I’ll find out when the time is right,” he said resignedly.

Lucien pulled away and reached to button his shirt before her soft voice stopped him.

*“Do you…do you like paper cranes?” She asked, staring at the butterfly that contained her note.

Lucien froze. Did she know about his vision?

Before he could reply however, that same tearstained paper crane appeared in his mind’s eye. This time with some faint writing on its wings.

*“I wish Lucien and I forever…”

*”For every forever that you wished for, I’ll be there. I promise.”

*“Paper cranes?” Lucien heard himself asking. “Yes, they also have a beautiful design,” he answered distractedly.

“*Maybe we can start with them. I’ll teach you,” her eyes met his squarely for the first time. There was the usual pain in her eyes. The pain of being forgotten by everyone. By the ‘him’ from a different time. But this time, there was something else.

Hope.

And it was beautiful.

For the first time, Lucien could see golden sunlight filtering lazily through the window. Vibrant and warm.

And somewhere, at the back of his mind, he wondered, was this how the other ‘him’ felt as well? Was he able to see these indescribable colors that lit up the world so brilliantly?

He also wondered if the other ‘him’ had let her go. The lone butterfly that had brought color into his world.

Lucien smiled when he processed her words. “Did I hear that right? So you will teach me how to fold origami?”

*“I’m sure you’ll master it soon. Maybe you can even teach me afterwards. After all, you look like a renaissance man,” she allowed herself to crack a tiny smile.

Lucien chuckled, *“Although I’m glad to have given you that impression, I probably don’t have as many areas of expertise as you think. If you’re interested, you have plenty of opportunities to slowly discover them,” he offered.

She hesitated, “As partners, maybe we can…”

*“Get to know each other more and build a stronger relationship?” Lucien finished for her. “Well, I’m glad to do so,” he smirked.

She eyed him, *“I find it hard to imagine that you’d want to learn origami seriously,” she admitted after a beat.

*“That’s why I said we should get to know each other better,” Lucien replied steadily, smiling. He finished buttoning his shirt when suddenly a thought ran across his mind.

How well did the other ‘him’ know her? Did she, perhaps…love ‘him’?

He paused, his fingers stopping on his tie and he frowned. He did not like the sharp stab of jealousy that ran through him. Love? Lucien wanted to scoff at himself. When did love exist for him? But he couldn’t deny that there was a certain yearning that pulled him to this strange girl. It wanted-he wanted to get to know her, wanted to know how she was able to spill her colors upon his monochrome world, wanted to know every little thing that made her, her. He wanted to experience the things she had done so with ‘him’.

“I have a proposition, if you don’t mind,” he was speaking before he knew it. She looked at him with clear questions written across her face. “Since you expect me to take care of myself, I would think the same expectation should apply to you. And lately, you haven’t looked well. I can only imagine that on top of dealing with everything that has happened so far, you haven’t had the time to take care of yourself. And I think that the events that has happened took quite a heavy toll on you, mentally and physically. After all, the responsibility of safeguarding precious memories is quite a task on its own. So I would like to offer a proposal, an addition to our cooperation.”

Lucien could hardly believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. They had been brought upon directly from the intense yearning.

She was watching him curiously and Lucien sighed internally. He had already started…

“Once we’ve gotten to know each other better, I’d like to offer the presence of my company to you,” Lucien continued. She tilted her head, a confused look in her eyes. He smiled at that and explained, “What I mean by that is because the ‘Lucien’ that you knew must have provided you with a lot of comfort and I’d like to do the same for you. He may have existed in a different time and dimension, but he is still me. I can’t promise that ‘he’ and I will be exactly the same, nor can I promise to do exactly what ‘he’ did. How far things go, how physical, how intimate, will be entirely up to you.”

Her eyes widened and there was a faint pink blushing her cheeks, “Wh-why?” She stammered and fidgeted nervously, eyes skipping away from his gaze.

“Since you are the Queen, you have certain powers. You’re able to access the Black Cabin, which allows you the ability to see across time and space. You have the power to see the different worlds that I can’t. Maybe by utilizing this power, you can bring some parts of the ‘Lucien’ that you know,” Lucien said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “I’ve been having some strange dreams, as of late. Ones in which the contents are unfamiliar to me and I have no recollection of. However the characters in my dreams are very clearly ‘my’ memories. Tell me, how is it possible for me to have memories of events I don’t recall happening? These dreams and visions have occurred more frequently in your presence. I believe it to be a manifestation of your powers. As Queen, you have the power to connect timelines. So maybe, you have the power to bring ‘him’ back, the ‘Lucien’ from the time and space that you knew.” Lucien concluded.

She looked shocked with his revelations and he could see the glimmer of hope shine ever so brightly in her eyes. “What’s in it for you? What do you get out of this?” She asked hesitantly.

“Me?” Lucien’s smile widened, “Since my plan involve the Queen, I believe understanding all of the Queen’s powers and abilities is absolutely crucial. After all, I need to account for all possible outcomes. If I can witness this power, it will be very helpful indeed.” Seeing how she was still speechless, Lucien finished fastening his tie. “You’re welcome to give my proposal some thought,” he added gently. *“The story I promised you will have to wait until next time. After all, I’ve bothered you enough today.” *He headed for the door when suddenly he felt a tug at the hem of his shirt.

*“I don’t want my partner to fall for no reason,” her voice was soft, but there was a firm warning behind her words.

Lucien understood immediately. *“Okay,”

She nodded, but still not letting go of him. He tilted his head in question. “And about your proposal…” she began, cheeks coloring slightly.

“I told you that you are welcome to have some time to think-”

“I accept,” she cut him off, squaring her jaw and staring him in the eye.

Lucien stilled. “Alright,” he said after some time. *“From now on, I’ll start to think about ways to keep the promise between us. Fulfilling your wishes will always be my top priority.”

“There’s one more thing,” her grasp on his shirt tightened, “I’d like to put it into effect. Your proposal. Starting now.”

Lucien’s eyes widened with shock. There were rarely, if any, instances where he was rendered speechless. He searched her eyes to try to gauge her thoughts only to find a steadfast determination. And something else. Desperation, perhaps. His brow creased, “But my proposal only entails that once we’ve gotten to know each other better,” he said finally.

Her jaw clenched and the fire in her eyes seemed to blaze, “I think I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of what you’re like. And apparently you already seem to know every one of my thoughts. I’d consider that to be ‘we’ve gotten to know each other better,’” her voice was hard.

“Are you sure? Just to let you know, I’m not a gentle lover like your ‘Lucien,’” a wry smirk was playing about his lips.

“You weren’t-” she stopped herself and shook her head, “Gentleness is not what I need right now,” she said instead. Her face reddened at her words, but she didn’t loosen her grasp on his shirt.

“Oh?” Lucien was undoubtedly amused, “I’m not one to hold back though.”

“Good,” the word was a hiss out of her clenched teeth as she reached up to grab Lucien’s tie.

“Don’t hold back,” was all Lucien heard before she pulled.

The kiss was not gentle. Their lips crashed harshly, and their teeth knocked together as she pressed herself desperately to him. Her hands fisted his shirt and Lucien responded in kind, biting down on her lips. He drew blood and she moaned breathlessly into his mouth when the metallic taste spread around their battling tongues. She wrapped her arms around his neck, anchoring herself to him. Lucien’s hands settled on her waist to steady them. Her knees trembled against the onslaught of Lucien’s relentless tongue and Lucien picked her up effortlessly as he walked them over to her bed. She bounced slightly on the bed when he threw her down and turned to look up at him, breath catching in her throat. His eyes were dark and unfathomably cold, like twin pools of violet onyx that could swallow her if she weren’t careful. But she didn’t want to be careful. She wanted to fall, wanted to lose herself in those eyes that were so familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. Reaching for him, her fingers impatiently fumbling at the tie he had fastened earlier, she slammed her lips against his once more.

And it was like a rubber band had snapped.

She tore at his shirt, not bothering with the buttons. Once his chest was bared to her, she broke away with a harsh gasp before raking her nails over his skin. He shuddered at her touch, breath coming out in a sharp hiss. He shed his shirt and his hand caressed the nape of her neck before tugging on her hair, exposing the smooth expanse of her neck.

“My turn,” Lucien murmured, his breath ghosting over her throat. His tongue washed over where he could feel her pulse beating erratically and he bit down. Smirking against her skin when he heard her whimper, he sucked hard on the bite. His fingers danced teasingly along the hem of her blouse before yanking it over her head. He ripped off her bra and skirt before she could even blink and began mapping out the contours of her body with his lips.

Blood pulsed through her ears, drowning out all other sounds. It felt like she was drowning. But she didn’t want a life preserver, no she didn’t need one.

Ever since she had come into this winter world, ever since discovering she had been forgotten by the world, she had felt so lost. Even after Shaw had warned her what was to come, she was still not prepared to lose the very things that had brought light into her world. She could handle Victor, could handle Kiro, and could even handle Gavin not knowing who she was. But when she had walked through the doors of the research institute to peer into the ever familiar eyes, only to be met with cool eyes that had gazed upon her with the expression of meeting a stranger, something within her had broken. He didn’t remember her. Lucien didn’t remember her.

And since then, every meeting they had together, she had tried to reclaim the broken pieces of her within him. She had held onto the hope that somewhere in this time and in this dimension, maybe, just maybe she could find whatever it was she was searching for.

Lucien, upon noticing that she looked distracted, took one of her nipples into his mouth, and bit down. She jerked in shock. “Lu-” she clapped her hands against her mouth before the name can slip out.

No. This was Ares, this was a Lucien who had never met her, never shared all those memories with her.

The man in question paused his ministrations. She watched as his eyes narrow into hungry slits, violet eyes nearly dark as the night. The expression on his face was cold and calculating.

“Hm,” there was a noise of discontent and she held her breath as he crept closer to her, lithe like a panther, and just as dangerous. She fell against her pillow as he caged her in, large hand encircling her wrists to pull her arms above her head. “I wonder,” he started conversationally, but there was an edge underlying his words, “If ‘he’ kissed you like this?” He didn’t give her time to answer, however, as he dove in and attacked her lips mercilessly. With his other hand, his fingers circled her breast, tugging, pinching. She moaned helplessly against his urgent mouth. “Tell me. Did ‘he’ touch you like this? Your ‘Lucien?’” He snarled the name. There was a sudden ripping sound before he plunged his long, tapered digits into her. She arched against him with a broken whimper. “My, my, you’re already so wet,” the man whispered silkily, as if making a mere observation, “And I’ve barely started.” There was a dark promise behind his words, and she squirmed at the thought. He smirked, letting go of her wrists while curling his fingers inside her.

Her mouth fell open with a gasp, “Oh!” His lips attached themselves to the hollow of her neck as his fingers continued to move inside her. There was a fire starting in her, blazing slow and hot deep in her belly, and it was spreading along her limbs. She clung to him, hanging on for dear life, her nails leaving red crescents in his back, when he hit that spot. “Please,” the word left her mouth in a cracked whimper.

The fire grew hot and intense and the noise in her ears crescendoed into a roar.

She was so close. Almost there. Yes. Yes. YE-

And suddenly, nothing.

All sensations stopped.

She opened her eyes to see him sitting back on his heels, serenely licking his slick fingers.

“You-” her voice was hoarse.

“Yes?” He raised a casual eyebrow as he popped his fingers into his mouth slowly.

“Wh-why did you stop?” She blushed, her voice had never sounded so needy.

Taking his fingers out with a light pop! sound, he smirked at her, “I’d like to take my time, you see,” he leaned down and whispered lowly. “It’s more fun that way,” there was that same cruel grin and he moved out of reach before she could pull him in. She scowled and heard him chuckle. The sheets rustled and there was the tell-tale clink of a belt being undone. She slowly sat up and raised her head to watch him free himself from the confines of his pants.

Her breath caught. His cock was standing proudly at attention, curving upwards towards his stomach. There was a shiny bead of white at the tip. Just how she remembered.

The minute he kicked away his pants, she leaned over and slotted her lips over his engorged, leaking tip.

“Ungh!” his hips jerked forward in surprise before he regained control of himself. She raised her eyes to look at him and when she did, she slowly took him in her mouth, little by little until he hit the back of her throat. He threw his head back with a low groan. She bobbed her head, hollowing her cheeks. Her hands came to stroke him where her mouth couldn’t reach. “Ah,” he croaked, his breathing was labored. Spurred on by this, she began to suck him with relish. She continued this for several minutes, gradually increasing her speed when he suddenly wrenched her away, pressing her down with his weight. “Enough,” he hissed as he bit down on her lip. She swallowed into their kiss, his eyes were nearly black. The look on his face was almost feral. “Shall I have a taste as well?”

Before she could respond, he had already slipped between her legs, looking up at her.

“Did ‘he’ taste you like this?” He whispered, puffs of hot air hitting her aching core. A wet tongue ran across her folds, hot and heavy. He watched with a satisfied smirk as she arched off the bed with a needy sigh, fingers digging into the sheets. Her thighs clamped around his head as he traced blazing patterns with his tongue. “So sweet,” he breathed, before delving his tongue inside her.

She could feel the familiar fire build up again, the pressure threatening to knock her over. She wanted to fall off the edge, wanted to see stars burst across her vision, wanted to lose herself.

Her pulsed quickened, her body tightened. So close. Just a little bit more…

And suddenly that wicked tongue was gone.

Her head fell back onto her pillow with a tortured groan, jaw slack. Her fingers fisted the sheets. There were actual tears of frustration in the corner of her eyes.

She heard that familiar, cruel chuckle before a long finger slid into her. She almost sighed with relief, but he didn’t move.

“Please,” she couldn’t recognize her voice, tinged with such desperation.

“Please, what?” His voice sent electrifying tingles throughout her entire body and she trembled. Squeezing her thighs together, she tried to get some form of relief. A large hand forced her legs apart before she could. “You need to be more clear with your requests,” he whispered, tongue swiping lazily across her inner thighs. “What do you want?”

“I…I want to come,” her voice was hoarse, close to tears. “Please. Let me come.”

“Hm,” there was a musing sigh, “I don’t know if I can allow that,” he moved his finger slowly out of her, chuckling when she tried to push her hips upward to meet him. “You see, this was supposed to be your punishment.”

Slack-jawed, she stared at him. This Lucien-no Ares-was indeed ruthless. “Wha-what?” She moaned breathlessly as his finger dipped inside her excruciatingly slow.

He kissed her wet folds gently and her head fell back again with a whimper. “You have invaded my dreams ever since we met,” he growled. “Not only that, but my thoughts as well. I always wondered, if a certain silly girl was staying out of trouble, if she was safe, if she was doing well,” as he spoke, he rocked his finger into her, stoking the flames within her once more.

She struggled to breathe. Between his words and his damn finger, she couldn’t even think straight.

“Don’t you think that requires some sort of punishment?” He asked and slipped another finger into her. “Making me worry about you, silly girl.” With those words, he curled his fingers and his tongue washed over her sensitive nub.

OH!

Her body was instantly ablaze.

He increased his speed as his tongue circled her nub, sending her head spinning. “Please,” she whimpered as she ground her hips against his face. “Please…”

“That does sound tempting,” his voice sent delicious vibrations throughout her, “Shall I let you come?”

She nodded vigorously, “Please,” she pleaded, feeling that ever familiar tightening sensation in her gut, like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap any time.

“I think I prefer that you come when I’m inside of you,” he smirked and removed his finger. Her head thrashed about in pure frustration. “Patience,” he spoke softly as he came up, pinning her underneath him. “It’s more fun this way. You’ll see.”

She gasped when she could feel his cock pulsing against her entrance. “Please…”

His lips attached themselves to her neck. “What do you want, silly girl?”

“I want you!” She screeched, trying to grind her hips against him. “Take me! Please! Fuck me!”

“Did ‘he’ fuck you like this?” He growled against her ear before slamming into her without warning, finally pushing her off the precipice that he had been mercilessly teasing her on.

All of a sudden, she was flying, weightless. Mere atoms floating in the vast galaxy not tethered to anything. Sweet release filled every crevice, every inch of her. The waves of pleasure that crested and crashed upon her robbed her of any conscious thought except for Lucien, Lucien, Lucien.

She was whole again. Complete. No longer broken.

For a moment, she could believe that it was the Lucien who had woken her up on the lazy mornings in which by some stroke of rare luck, both of them were not busy. The Lucien who had smiled so tenderly at her before whispering a “Good morning, butterfly,” leaning in to kiss her and pressing her gently against the satin sheets. The Lucien who had mischievously grabbed her when she went to his office to drop off some lunch and then later, had bent her over his desk with a “Be a good girl and try not to make any noise,” ghosting over her ear. The Lucien who had slammed her into the wall with a dangerous “Tell me,” hissed angrily through clenched teeth when she was asked about the most important person in her life. The Lucien who had tortured her so ardently that very night as he grit out a “You don’t want to make me jealous again, kitten,” before thoroughly ravaging her. That the Lucien who had looked at her and held her like she was his entire world had come back. And for a singular moment, as she came back down to earth, she allowed herself to believe it. 

“Lucien-” she cried out, reality merging with the man in her dreams. 

He froze. That had been the first time since they met that she had uttered his name. He had been observing her, watching her unravel with pure pleasure, pupils blown out with bliss. Filled with great satisfaction, he had struggled hard to keep his hips still, a monumental task with him still buried deep within her. He knew she was still searching for pieces of the other ‘him’. And as she climaxed around him, her walls fluttering and clenching him (so much that it physically pained Lucien), he hoped that he was able to give her a little bit of comfort.

He hoped that she could find whatever it was she had lost. Or at the very least, he hoped that she could find a little bit of the person she missed so much within him.

There appeared to be another image of her superimposed onto the panting body in front of him. “Ares is not completely Lucien, nor is Lucien completely Ares,” her image seemed to be saying to him. “As long as you’re Lucien or the part that is ‘Lucien’ exists, I will love you. I love you, Lucien.”

A guttural groan escaped from him and the last remaining strands of his self-control, as well as his sanity, snapped. He grabbed her hips, fingers pressing down hard enough to leave bruises. His hips pulled back and slammed into her, making her shriek, her eyes rolling back from pleasure. “Say it again,” he growled, throwing her leg over his shoulder so he could go deeper. “Call my name. Tell me who is making you feel good like this. Say it. Say. My. Name.” Each word gritted out through tightly clenched teeth was accompanied by a savage snap of unforgiving hips.

“Lucien!”

“Good girl,” he panted as he reached between her legs to stroke her roughly in time with his thrusts. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

He was going to erase any other traces, any other thoughts of other men from her. Even if his rival was himself from another time. But at least, in this time and space, in this moment, she was his.

Her hands came to grip his shoulders, her grip vicelike as he drove without abandon into her. Coming from her mouth were breathless permutations of his name punctuated by the sweetest moans. She held on tight, nails leaving scarlet furrows in his back as his thrusts drove her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel it. Her impending destruction.

“Please, please, please,” she chanted as if offering a prayer to whatever deity that will bring about her absolute ruin. “Lucien, please.” Her leg slipped from his shoulder and she wrapped them around his waist, pushing him deeper within her.

“Come for me,” he snarled, hellbent on his mission to completely annihilate her. Obscene wet sounds of skin meeting skin filled the air.

Suddenly the coil in her stomach sprung free, fire and electricity mixing in a deadly cocktail across her skin. Every single synapse in her body was firing mini fireworks. She was blown apart into a thousand pieces, only to be put back together by the man furiously pounding into her.

Stars. She could see stars. Streaking white across her vision, blurring out everything.

There was a ragged groan and Lucien’s hands dug into her hips, spilling hot and heavy into her. He panted as he stilled. And then his eyes widened in shock.

For the world was painted in brilliant colors that he had never seen before. The gorgeous faint pink flushing her entire body. The gilded yellow of the afternoon light that spilled into the room. The soft blue of the clear sky. The verdant green of the tree standing guard just outside her window. It was like someone had put on a filter on the world, the saturation of hues he had never known about thrown into vibrant clarity. His breath caught in his throat; his eyes thoroughly dazzled. He gazed down at the utterly wrecked girl underneath him. She had made all this happen. Whatever divine power she possessed was able to bring light into his forsaken, dismal world. Or maybe it was just because it was her.

He was not going to let her go now. The only color in his world.

Trembling as her body started its descent, she opened her eyes to find everything hazy. There were tears on her cheeks. Whether it was from the mind blowing explosion or because she missed Lucien so much, she didn’t know.

But there was Lucien right in front of her, smiling down at her in that familiar, tender way. “Silly girl,” he mused fondly, thumbs brushing her wet cheeks. A hand landed on her head gently, patting her in a way that only Lucien could. “Don’t cry.”

“Lucien, don’t-don’t go!”

She heard a sigh of mild exasperation. “My little fool,” the familiar affectionate nickname pricked at her eyes and she closed them to hide the tears. “I won’t go anywhere. I’m always here.” Light kisses rained down on her eyelids, her cheeks like the delicate flutter of butterfly wings.

Something extracted itself gently from her body and she opened her eyes again to look into the familiar violet eyes. Only this time, there was no warm tenderness within them.

“Lu-Lucien?” she croaked.

“Sorry,” he murmured, a hint of regret in his voice when he noticed how she seized up after he had pulled away. He looked down at the mess of red and purple blotches blossoming across her skin. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head silently. “You said you weren’t gentle, and I believe I told you to not hold back,” she said finally, turning her head to look at him as he began to get dressed.

A small grin unfurled, “Indeed. Can I assume that we will be continuing our…’cooperation?’” He buttoned what he could of his ruined shirt and waited.

“Yes,” she said as calmly as she could, but her cheeks betrayed her, blushing bright. Maybe she shouldn’t have tore his shirt like that.

“Very well,” he seemed to be oblivious to her internal struggle, “I’ll look forward to our next cooperation. I do believe I have troubled you enough for today,” his gaze swept across her still naked body and he smirked. “After all, you must be tired.”

She coughed and quickly covered herself. Lucien chuckled as he threw on his black overcoat, pausing before the paper butterflies. A long finger touched one gently. “I hope you can teach me all the beautiful things,” he finally said quietly. “And all these beautiful memories that you shared with the other ‘me’…” there was a touch of sorrow in his voice. “I hope you are willing to share them with me as well.”

Her eyes widened. “You said you only cared about the Queen,” her voice trembled. “So, why…why would you be interested in past memories?”

“Yes, it’s true that I care about the Queen’s powers and potential,” Lucien nodded, finally turning to meet her eyes, “But currently, I’m far more intrigued by you.”

“Wh-why?”

“Why?” He repeated thoughtfully, “I guess you can say… I once believed the world to be rather bleak, if you will. I thought the world only consisted of black and white, and that the other colors didn’t exist. Somehow, you were able to change my mind and showed me that the world contained far more colors than I previously have believed. I am very interested in how you were able to accomplish that.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as she stared at him. She remembered a certain story Lucien had told her in what seemed like ages ago. A story about an artist and a butterfly. It couldn’t possibly be coincidence. But did she dare to hope?

Lucien smiled wryly, “But like I previously mentioned, there will be plenty of opportunities for us to get to know each other, so there’s no rush for me to find out the reason. And if one day…you find that the burden of shouldering these memories alone becomes too much to bear…” his voice became impossibly soft. There was the slightest pause of hesitation. “I hope…that we can create new memories together. And I hope that these new memories will be beautiful ones as well. *Maybe…we can start over…as long as you’re willing to. A fresh start.”

She gazed at him. This man had destroyed her in more ways than she could count. But if she had a choice, she would let him do it again. The pain of being forgotten faded into the dark recesses of her mind. If she could still love Lucien after his betrayal, maybe she could also love this new Lucien in this time as well. She was willing to believe that their love could transcend time and space. That their love was bound by fate. She wanted to believe that she didn’t imagine the flash of panic in his eyes that day at the Ultima Bioresearch Center when she had blocked a shard for him. She wanted to believe that the warmth she had felt when they had gone hiking wasn’t meaningless. She wanted to believe that the little bit of hesitation she had seen just then revealed that Lucien, this Lucien, wanted to create new memories with her. The beautiful memories that they had shared…would be precious keepsakes of the past, and nothing more. She would hold these close to her heart, but maybe…it was time for new ones to come in. After all, the man had burrowed himself so far deep in her heart that there wasn’t room for anyone else. Deep inside, she knew that *as long as the person before her was still Lucien, she was destined to be attracted to him, destined to fall for him-no matter what timeline, no matter what world. As long as there was ‘Lucien.’

“I’d like that,” she finally murmured, her voice hoarse.

She watched as he smiled, and she could believe that the faint tenderness suffusing his violet pupils was there. She could believe that she didn’t imagine the bit of relief in his next words.

*“Okay. Next time, I’ll set aside a whole day to learn origami from you.”

“Tossing, turning, struggle through the night for someone new And I could go on and on, on and on Lanterns burning, flickered in the mind only you But you were still gone, gone, gone Been losing grip, on sinking ships You showed up, just in time

This love is good This love is bad This love is a life back from the dead

This love left a permanent mark This love is glowing in the dark These hands had to let it go free And this love came back to me”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Fanfic art drawn by: @kwella-kw​

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

For more of my work: 📖

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

—chapter nine ; with heat & wet skin.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta. 

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, implied nsfw, drinking, mentions + drug use

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

MASON was quick on his feet when he was given the slightly odd request Teresa had asked him to do last minute. It had nothing to do with the gallery or with separation of last minute business meetings to be scheduled in the margins of the diary. It was just that he had to safely track down a dangerous man. Luca Changretta was still in England, hot-headed with a plan.

Teresa loved fur shawls. Though she detested how the cheap ones she could afford wore out from time to time, from the "fur" falling out like leaves from a tree in autumn, or even its colour turning from new to depressed (and even she grew so envious over the women who wore the luxurious, expensive ones at parties). Tommy Shelby never bothered with buying her what she wanted, which she was fine with, but one man with the Italian genes spoiled her with one that she kept in her closet. A grey-ish white. Teresa often takes one look at it, before sliding it over to reach the silky see-through shawl when she is simply relaxing in her home. At parties she debated even thinking of taking it out, but then there was the other shawl that was made of black fur, and it closed together with a silver clip to keep her shoulders warm.

The fur shawl was just like the painting she avoids at her own work. Both were so beautiful and timeless, both sharing personal meaning. But tonight, it finally saw light from staying in the wardrobe closet for too long. Teresa held it out in front of her, then clutched it in her arms.

The bar was built together with grey walls, none sound-proof. On the other side you could hear the jazz band playing music for the party, or footsteps from the owner or a bartender heading out back for more stocking of gin. If you were on that side, you'd hear the giant doors spring open from the doorman that allowed Teresa to enter inside. The man at the counter watched as her dress fell all the way down to her heels, not too long so she wouldn't trip. Her hair was in its curls once more, and wrapped around like comfort was the fur.

She reached a booth and set her purse on the table. "White wine."

"Ma'am-" the server goes.

"A man will be joining me very soon." Teresa made a smile, as the unescorted woman if Luca were to not show up. Had she imagined if Luca burned the invitation letter she mailed to his hotel, or simply tossed it away, in future to be used as scratch paper, or even as a roll up (if Luca is one of the many people that did snow), she may have just wasted her time getting dolled up just to not be served at her booth.

"Last time I met up with a woman at a bar, she proposed a deal, and lied straight to my face."

She shot her head up.

Those eyes.

Looks like her night wasn't going to waste after all. "Are you talking about Polly?" She watches as Luca Changretta helps himself on the other side of the booth, the same server coming over to Teresa with her white wine.

Teresa waited while staring down at Luca's own glass being poured with four fingers of whiskey. Luca glanced at Teresa's outfit, not answering her question. "You're wearing the shawl I got you? I can't believe you still have it."

"What, like I got rid of it? Why would I give it to someone else who would treat it like a rag?"

"Hm." Luca took a sip. "So, why did you summon me here? Actually, I know the answer to that one. You're a businesswoman, as we both know. You invited me here to propose some kind of deal, eh? Like I got the time to spare one more fucking thing before I go do what I came to England to do?"

"I know about the vendetta, Luca." Teresa began. "And I know the deal you made with Polly, which was a lie, by the way. I know about that. What I also know is that you don't just plan on crushing the Peaky Blinders. You have more on your mind. You're so greedy that you would want to overthrow Alfie Solomons as well. If he were to betray Tommy with the deal you made with Mr. Solomons, you know you and your men would come after him as well and take over his business."

Luca nodded. "I had a feeling you knew. I had a feeling Tommy Shelby brought you back to Birmingham, no?"

"I know your patience is wearing thin, and you're done giving people more time. But then there's me."

"Right, forgive me," Luca places a hand on his chest. "Why not talk about the royalty in front of me as well? What could she possibly request for this time?"

"I wanna know why I was never sent a Black Hand."

Luca laughs, trailing his fingers around the rim of his glass. Whatever Teresa said or did, she definitely wasn't laughing. Nothing seemed funny to her on her end. She did, however, miss that laugh of his. It was more of a chuckle, but she loved it like it was honey in hot tea. "Let me tell you something. It's best to stay out of this, right? Since you resigned, messing with us is like throwing stones at the devil."

"I'll play in the snow with the devil to prove you wrong."

Luca scoffs harshly. "So you're one of those people that snorts white lines just to feel good?"

"That was just my own figure of speech, Luca. I don't do Tokyo," Teresa replied. She cringed at the habit Arthur and Michael carelessly picked up on. "It's everyone's thing now, but not mine."

"That makes two of us." He took another sip. "I'm doing you a favour here, Miss Griffith. Stay out of this and do your own thing."

"There's no need for you to call me that," she comments.

"Why the hell not? Formalities are a thing of the past now?"

"You're talking to me as if we just met. We had something together."

"Yeah, had."

Teresa gave a glare, grabbing her wine. Luca smirks. "All right. Whatever you say. Jesus, kid. You're so fuckin' difficult."

"Kid," she scoffs at his remark. "And Ada Thorne is on your list and she doesn't get her hands covered in blood. So why wasn't I included?"

"You feel left out?" Luca snickered.

"I just wanna know why. I know damn well you haven't forgotten about me. Even if what we had to you was just for pleasure, you found out that I was once a Peaky Blinder."

Luca stares. "You wanted out because you felt like it would devour you forever, so I respected your wishes. You told me why you threw in the towel. And I know you're not a Shelby, you don't wanna be a Shelby."

The server comes up to them. "Sir? Ma'am? Would any of you like to hear the specials tonight?"

"No, thank you." Teresa smiles.

"More whiskey," Luca says. "And for the lady, she'll have more wine." Teresa raised her brows. She didn't mind more wine, would she care so much about knowing her limit before it was time to wince at the tab?

"I forgot you love whiskey," Teresa points out.

"Italian whiskey," Luca made a hand gesture. "As I was saying... have you thought long and hard about this, as to why I'm here? As to why I want Tommy Shelby dead, how I now want everyone dead?"

"Your father." There was a pause between the two. The jazz band transitioned their music to a much slower song this time, and it started easing the nerves in both the former couple's systems despite the volume of alcohol consumed. "Arthur Shelby killed your father. John Shelby killed your brother Angel."

"If things didn't happen the way it did, my men and I would be cozying up in New York counting stacks by stacks."

"And I wouldn't be seeing you here," Teresa added. "Almost ever again," Teresa thanks the server for the excess wine refilling in her glass, then Luca's. "Now can we talk about the giant elephant in the room?"

Luca furrows his brows.

"I know why you left, Luca. I know it's been five years, but you really just packed up and left. I've never seen you so frantic until that day when you were running to the train." Not even an eye bat. "I grew miserable ever since."

"Can I say this?" Luca leaned forward, placing the cuffs of his tailored suit that it laid flat on the tablecloth. "Whatever emotion you saw in my eyes on that day, whatever it was, it was for the sake of being alive for my family. Someone's gotta help keep the business up and runnin'. None of it works if I'm not there."

Teresa stares at Luca. This man wasn't wrong. It wasn't like he was running everything in his family all on his own. His father led the family in Birmingham that Angel was a part of, even his mother lived with them, but what makes New York so important and comforting to Luca must have felt like a whole outlet of anything he ever accomplishes, how many Tommy guns he can hold and keep in his home like picture frames, how many men he has to hire from Sicily and America just to help kill one family. All of that was justified when he boarded that train to the Liverpool docks.

"Oh," Teresa straightened her back. "So much for being the big, bad capo."

"Be careful," Luca warned, pointing a finger at her. "Don't question a gangster's honour."

"You know I crack jokes here and there," Teresa's lips curled into a smirk as it reached the rim of her glass.

"So do I," said Luca.

She looked down at his hands that rested on the table. His experienced, non-scrawny hands that had a black hand tattooed on his wrist, one with a crown, and maybe some other new ones Luca got over time. She used to kiss all of them, even the one on his neck that was a cross. His right hand was wrapped with big, gold rings on two fingers, except he only kept his ring finger free of anything, that was something she wanted to bring up. "You got all those rings on your fingers but not a wedding ring.

"Not like you got one on yours, either. Unless you took it off before coming here," Luca jokes.

She shakes her head. "I've been too busy to fall in love with another soul. But you? You didn't tie the knot with Viviana back in New York?"

Luca scowled, knowing Teresa hadn't forgotten about that woman as he did. "No. I still see her occasionally."

"Yet you haven't done anything with her? Never bothered to find anyone to satisfy your mother?"

"My mother says any woman from New York or even from the old country would do."

"What did you say, after?"

"Mamma, you're killin' me.'" Teresa had to chuckle at that, Luca smiled at her. He then looked around the bar, seeing how more of the guests had gotten up to dance with their dates as the jazz music cranked up their higher tunes like a machine. "Don't tell me we're gonna be sitting here all fuckin' night. You wanna dance, Miss Tour Guide?"

The nickname he gave to her the first time. Did he really sit in front of her and tell her he couldn't remember everything they had, then? "I'm a little rusty," Teresa declines.

'We gotta stretch our legs somehow. I ain't even see your whole getup for the night."

Teresa had no problem getting up from the booth. She stepped out so that her heels were shown as well, and she placed the fur shawl down on her seat so her shoulders were out. The dress wasn't purchased by Luca, but by her, and she felt like a Grand Princess, like a little girl playing with their mother's dresses and makeup. She was never too insecure about her looks since it never bothered her, but she felt beautiful, and she wondered if Luca will still ever see her as beautiful whether or not she is clothed in front of him.

Luca kept on staring. "Then perhaps we can head somewhere else," he suggests. "Somewhere we're both quite familiar with."

How and why didn't matter, the young man who looked to be around Arthur Shelby's age paid no second thought to his surroundings as he aggressively snuffed the thick lines of cocaine that formed on the ledge up his nostril. He begins wiping away any excess off his face, exiting the balcony seats just as the Italian mobster escorts Teresa inside the dark theatre to their respected spots.

"You're a lover of theatre," Teresa spoke quietly as the show resumed to its first act.

"If you dress like one, you are one." Luca hooked his leg over the other, folding his hands on his lap.

It was silent, not the awkward or tense silence, but silent to respect and see the performance. Silence or absolute noise, the stage was the latter. The good kind of noise. The skimpy dancers twirled with batons, the man and woman playing the perky main lovers belted the note they must have spent days and nights rehearsing over and over.

Luca knew there would be performances every night back in New York City. There was always something to do and somewhere to go, otherwise you'd be glued to your chairs at home.

The show was about to end, and Luca, for the first time in God's glorious mysterious time, took Teresa by the hand and curled them together on his lap, his eyes were fixated to theatricality in front of the hundreds of people.

Teresa reacts, slowly looking down. It was nearly dark, but she could feel the giant, lumpy rings from his fingers bump into hers. He always held her hand during a show, and would only let go to join the applause when a number came to its big finish, or when the grand finale brought hypnotic joy and bliss in each audience member's senses like himself that he just had to give the standing ovation.

But just as the audience erupted in deafening applause, cheers and whistles, Luca and Teresa remained the only two members seated, their hands still holding.

HIS hotel room was neat and tidy before he left, now the sheets on the giant bed wrinkled like aged skin when Luca held Teresa down to remove her stockings. She missed his touch. The feeling of being pinned on a bed as he dominated over her, practically tearing what she wore for the occasion just to see her underneath as a sight for his sore eyes, it was definitely there, and her heart pounded.

"Luca," she breathed out a moan. He kissed her softly, now only responding with pacing movements, from positioning her to grabbing the protection from the nightstand drawers. Though he was careful with the dress and fur shawl that was set on the office desk he sat in earlier, within seconds her brassiere was tossed on the floor. With the help from Teresa, she managed to undress Luca from head to toe by just sitting up, and he was now unclothed from the fresh tailored suit his uncle made back in Mott Street.

They kissed again, and Luca went in.

+ me writing "smut": 🧿👄🧿 but ooooo shiiiit their “business” meeting was quite a night lol.

[shhhhyoursister]

that last hc about trans staff was amazing i can't stop reading, your writing is so good 🤯 thank you so much for that!!!! when you have time I'd love to read about what matteo said that hurt david and david walking shirtless but just when you can, don't worry :) again tysm

es hi hi yes okay idk why im very in the mood to write this suddenly i watched like a tiny snippet of the last clip again to look for something and this is totally unrelated to that but i remembered that i got this ask and felt filled with motivation for a minute despite my,,, total and complete exhaustion so sorry if this isnt great i just have feelings!!! im also probably going to write the angstier part of this another time, i was just really in the mood for cute fluff!!!!

The first time David did it, he was alone. Laura had left the flat for the weekend to do something for her job, and David had been excited to spend every single hour of that time with his boyfriend. He had been disappointed to find out that Matteo was busy that first night, and despite how badly he wanted to, David wasn’t going to try to pull him away from a movie night with Hans. He resigned himself to an evening spent ordering a pizza, lying on the couch, and watching movies while waiting for Matteo to text him.

He had gone back into his room to change after putting his freshly delivered pizza on the table, and he was taking his binder off as a thought crossed his mind. He had been feeling pretty good that day, body-wise. He had been having more of those days since Matteo, and he looked down at himself, shirtless and wearing a pair of what he realized were Matteo’s boxers, and put his binder gently on the bed. He glanced towards his hamper full of clean clothes and grabbed a shirt off the top, but didn’t put it on. He took a deep breath and clenched the shirt tight in one hand as he walked up to the door to his bedroom, turned the knob, and stepped out.

The first thing he noticed was that he felt a little cold. Not an uncomfortable cold, really, but cold in a way that was...very different than he had ever felt before. He shivered a little as he walked further into the room, and sat down on the couch. He leaned back into the cushions a little and shifted his shoulders against the fabric, feeling the way it rubbed on his bare skin. He smiled a bit to himself before leaning forward again, and grabbing a slice of pizza out of the box. He turned the TV on and selected the movie he wanted, and kept smiling through the whole beginning, despite the grim scene unfolding on the screen in front of him.

After he had finished eating way too much of the pizza to feel comfortable, he let himself slide onto his back on the couch. He rested a hand on his stomach and one behind his head as he watched the end of the movie, and he laughed when he noticed a little bit of the sauce from the pizza on his stomach. He wiped it away before selecting another movie with a grin. He ended up falling asleep about halfway through that one, and woke up to a text from Matteo asking when he should come over that night.

David’s mood carried with him throughout the day, heightened by the fact that his boyfriend was coming over that night. He even cleaned a bit, made sure his room was a little more presentable, and he was just straightening the blanket on his bed when Matteo texted saying he had arrived. He jogged to the door and pulled it open, and felt how dumb and big his grin was when he saw Matteo standing there with a bag over his shoulder.

Matteo gave him an amused look and leaned in for a quick kiss, and David tried to make it a little less quick but Matteo was already pulling away to put his stuff in David’s room. David followed after him, not ready for him to leave his sight, and after Matteo dropped his bag onto the bed he dropped himself into David’s arms. David grabbed him around the waist and squeezed him tight, and Matteo laughed in his ear.

“Miss me?”

David pulled back so he could kiss him on the cheek and then pulled away completely so he could see Matteo smiling at him, and he beamed back, before saying, “Literally anytime I’m not with you.”

Matteo blushed and rolled his eyes before leaning back in so they could kiss, and David pulled Matteo’s body into his and chuckled a little when Matteo made a surprised noise into his mouth. 

“You seem happy. Did you enjoy your night all alone?” Matteo said after they had pulled away again, his cheeks a little pinker. David shoved his equally pink face into Matteo’s shoulder and smiled into the skin there.

“Would have been better if you were here, but it was okay.”

They quickly ordered and ate food, and Matteo stole a piece of the leftover pizza when David mentioned he had gotten it the night before. They settled down after a little while to watch a movie, Matteo on his back and David lying on his chest, but after only about 15 minutes Matteo started wiggling uncomfortably under David. 

“Fuck, why is it so hot? Move for sec?”

David sat up with a whine and Matteo rolled his eyes again before sitting up and whipping his shirt off. David smirked and wiggled his eyebrows just to see Matteo laugh, and he did, with a, “Stop that, you’re a fucking idiot.”

He settled back down on Matteo’s chest and watched the movie for a few more minutes, before realizing how warm he felt himself. He sighed a little and rubbed his face into Matteo’s skin.

“I did that last night.”

Matteo hummed at him to prompt him to continue, so he sighed again before saying, “Took my shirt and binder off, and hung out on the couch.”

Matteo hummed again, and said, “And how was that?”

David thought for a second, before turning his head and propping his chin on Matteo’s chest. Matteo looked down at him and ran a hand through his hair, and David closed his eyes before saying, “Really fucking nice, actually.”

He opened his eyes to see Matteo grinning down at him. He blushed a little and turned his face back into Matteo’s skin, and felt Matteo’s other hand in his hair as well, and Matteo tightened his fingers and pulled his head back. 

“Why don’t you do it now?”

David’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that, but he saw the sincerity in Matteo’s goofy smile. He had been shirtless with Matteo before, a decent number of times. Never when they were just relaxing, however, and he admitted that it was a nice idea. He shrugged a little, and sat up again.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well, it’s really warm. You should do it, Laura isn’t coming back until tomorrow night, so it’s just me.”

It was just Matteo. It was just Matteo and David, and David didn’t have to worry. He was still feeling so good, and the idea of feeling his boyfriend’s skin against his own was too tempting to refuse. He nodded a little, and said a quiet, “Okay,” before tugging his shirt over his head and lying back down on Matteo’s chest.

Matteo was warm, but not in the same uncomfortable way the room was. His skin was soft, and David knew that, but he had a new appreciation for it in that moment. Matteo’s hands dropped onto his back and his fingers started tracing random shapes and what David thought might’ve been words onto his skin. 

He took a breath before letting it out in a long sigh, and he pressed a quick kiss to Matteo’s chest before saying, “This is good.”

Matteo looked down at him and smiled, running one of his hands up David’s spine and over his neck before sliding it through his hair, running through the curls and moving in such a calming way that David felt his eyes drooping closed.

He woke up a few hours later, and looked up to see Matteo snoring lightly above him. He was a little shocked that he had managed to fall asleep twice on the couch without meaning to in two nights, but he couldn’t stop his body from melting completely in Matteo’s when he felt their bare skin pressed together, and he smiled a little as he drifted off again, only waking once more, hours later, when Matteo tugged hard on his hair because he had gotten tired of watching David sleep. 

[irish-nlessing]

Ahhh those Drabbles look great! Are you doing them as well? If you are , I request 53 "I can't believe you talked me into this" im not sure what would be cuter Niall pouting and grumpy about something (like your icon) or Niall super excited about something and you have to be grumpy . (Though let's be real, he radiates happiness, sunshine and good thoughts. That shit is contagious.)

Anonymous said:number 3 for the prompt thing!

Anonymous said:Prompt 3! “Don’t fucking touch me”

I ended up combining these two - enjoy!!!!!!

Hot Yoga

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Niall sank down another inch into the passenger seat of your car and let out an annoyed huff.  You’d caught him in an extremely weak moment last night and gotten him to agree to join you at your favorite Bikram Yoga studio.  He must’ve missed the part where you mentioned class was at 7am.  You couldn’t really blame him for being distracted - your hands had been shoved down the front of his joggers while you traced the freckles along his neck with the tip of your tongue.  

“Niall.  You’re pouting.  Relax, it’ll be fun and it’s good for you.  Might actually do you some good to sweat out the last four nights of pints with the band.”

He shot forward in his seat, twisting to face you.  “We’re building a rapport! Can’t go touring if I don’t even like the guys in me band!”  Niall’s voice keened with offense.  You just snickered softly to yourself at his outburst and patted him softly on his knee.  You tucked your lip into your teeth trying desperately to suppress the giggle in your throat.  He glared at you from the corner of his clear blue eyes and curled his lip into a sneer.  “Don’t fucking touch me.”  You snatched your hand back to grip the wheel and raised your eyebrow at the petulant man child seated next to you.  “Ok Horan.  I’ll remember that later.”  Mornings had never been Niall’s strong suit and today was proving to be just more of the same.  As you trained your eyes back on the road you caught Niall’s lips pulled down into a frown, probably realizing he’d just cock-blocked himself.

You pulled up to the small studio and clambered out of the driver seat, eager to feel the burn and stretch in your limbs.  Niall reluctantly followed suit,  and shoved his hands into the pockets of his golf jacket.  He stood off to the side and was toeing at a crack in the sidewalk while you grabbed your bags and mats from the back of your small SUV.  You thrust your extra yoga mat towards him, trying to get him to take it.  “You ready?”  He grabbed the mat from your hand and shoved it under his arm.  With a resigned sigh he motioned for you to lead the way.  “Ready as I’ll ever be.  Let’s get this over with.”

Making your way towards the back room, you nodded a greeting to a few of the other patrons you recognized from previous classes.  Coming during the middle of the week, so early in the morning, guaranteed there would only be a few other people in the class.  You figured this would be the best option for Niall - if pictures ended up online of him sweating his ass off while doing yoga poses he’d never let you forget it.  You pushed open the door and felt the hot, humid air choke your lungs.  It always took a few minutes to acclimate to the insane heat in this class so you were quick to drop your bag to start shedding layers.  You were down to your tiny yoga shorts and had just started to peel off your tee when Niall grabbed your wrist.  

“What’re you doing? You can’t take your top off!”  His eyes were a mix of panic and protectiveness, shifting around to see if anyone was an eyeful.  

“Babe, it’s gonna be like 100 degrees in here.  I always do it in my shorts and sports bra.  You should take your shirt off too.  Don’t want you passing out.”  You shrugged out of your top and grabbed your mat to get situated near the windows on the side of the room.  When you peeked behind your shoulder Niall had his face set in a grimace but had at least listened to your advice and stripped his shirt off.  You couldn’t stop yourself from staring as he loped across the room to settle himself in the space next to you.  The heat had already made a light sheen of sweat break out across his chest and shoulders.  As he laid out his mat you watched the lean muscles in his back twitch and shift under the pale expanse of skin.  You could feel your own heartbeat start to speed up in your chest as he lowered himself down onto his stomach.  His arms stretched out above his head, making divots appear in the top of his shoulders where the muscles criss-crossed from his arms.  Before you could think about it you were pressing the pad of your finger into the small dip in his flesh and trailing your hand down his back.  He startled at the touch and popped his head up to look at you.  

“What was that for?”  His voice was raspy and muffled behind his still-outstretched arm.

A hot flush spread across your cheeks at being caught ogling him.  You pulled your hand back and shook your head.  “Nothing, sorry.  Just couldn’t help it.”  You tried to ignore the smirk that tugged the one corner of his mouth up.  Thankfully, the instructor walked in and started the first movements.

A half hour into the session you were dripping with sweat and concentrating on your breathing.  Your legs were on fire, but you felt strong.  The burn and stretch in your muscles was cathartic for your body, but also for your mind.  Hot yoga had always forced you out of your own head.  There were so many things to concentrate on that if you got distracted, you were liable to pass out.  You’d seen it happen before.  A newbie would come in and underestimate the brutal heat of the small room.  Inevitably they’d topple over, with the instructor grabbing a fan and an ice pack to bring them to.  You arched your back and twisted, glancing back to check on Niall.  His gaze was stuck on your body, your long legs curled underneath your body.  He was sort of in the same pose, but just not quite as open with his torso.  He was hunched over a bit, almost as though he was nursing a side cramp from running too long.  

“Ni…you ok?”

“M’fine.  Just turn around.”

“What?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just….don’t worry.”

“Is it your knee?  Do you need to swit-”

“No!”

His voice was low and hissed out at you, while his face was pulled into a dark grimace.  You scooted closer to him to whisper in his ear.  You didn’t want to disturb the rest of the class.

“Hey, if your knee is acting up just get into a position that’s comfortable.”

“It’s not m’fuckin’ knee.  Just leave it.”

He knelt down and spread his arms above his head, pushing back into child’s pose.  You knew this was his favorite because it was the only thing that would relieve the dull back ache he would sometimes get after hauling his guitar around for hours on stage.  You crouched down to badger him a bit more, genuinely concerned that he would push it too far and hurt himself.

“Seriously, if it’s your knee you shouldn’t do child’s pose Ni.  It’ll make it -”

“For Christ sake woman would ya shut up?  Been staring at your arse and tits for a half hour and you’re giving me a fucking hard on, ok?!”  

Your jaw dropped at his whispered confession.  You immediately darted your eyes around to see if anyone else had heard him.  Fortunately everyone else seemed to be fully engrossed in the next pose.  You swallowed harshly, trying to tamp down the buzzing in your body.  The knowledge that your poor boyfriend was trying valiantly to hide an erection that he got from watching you set your senses on edge.  You were flattered, turned on, and very flustered.  In a split second you grabbed your mat and stood up, pulling Niall off the floor with you.  You grabbed his wrist and draped your mat over your arm to hide his current “problem”.  He staggered out of the room behind you and barely managed to grab your bags as the door swung shut.  The cool air of the hallway hit you both like a bucket of ice.  Goosebumps cropped up across your skin and you could see the red patches of skin prickle under the thatch of dark hair matted down across Niall’s chest.

“What the fuck’re you doing?  Why’d you yank me outta there?  If you’d just left it alone for a minute I woulda been fine.”

You turned in a circle, looking desperately for something that would work for what you needed.  Grabbing Niall’s arm you pulled him desperately towards a small door at the end of the hallway, labeled “Laundry”.  With a silent prayer you tried the doorknob and let out a small squeal of victory when the door swung open.  Niall stumbled in behind you, bumping into the sticky skin of your back.  You could feel his hard length press into your lower back, his thin shorts not doing much to hide his arousal.  The feeling of him pressed into your flesh made you moan and as the sound left your mouth, Niall finally caught onto what you had in mind.

“You dirty little girl!  I got you all riled up, didn’t I?”  His warm breath tickled your ear and he pressed his fingers into your hips, pulling you back into his clothed cock.  There was an unmistakeable cockiness to his voice, a lilt that let you know he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.  You spun around to face him, backing up to the low counter against the wall that was used for folding towels.  Grabbing at the waist of his shorts you pulled him in between your legs and hooked them around his waist.  

“I got you riled up first, Niall.  Said so yourself.”  You pulled him into your covered center, relishing the friction of his body rubbing against the thing material between your legs.  He braced himself with his hands on the counter and leaned down so you were eye to eye.  

“You’re right, ya did.  Didn’t realize I’d have to watch you bend and stretch and arch your back in nothing more than your knickers.  Been hard nearly the whole class.  S’almost kinda painful if I’m honest.”  He thrust his hips forward and let out a low hiss as he pressed into your body.  Your breath was coming in shallow pants, matching the adrenaline flowing through your veins.  Wiggling your legs, you managed to dislodge his shorts and push them down his hips and under the swell of his round bum.  His cock sprang free, the tip almost purple with want and leaking strings of precum as it bobbed forward.  You licked your palm and wrapped your thin fingers around the tip, pumping slowly and spreading some of the wetness down his shaft.  “Fuckkkkkkk that feels so good.”  His voice was low and breathy, and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning too loudly.  As your hand swept back up his length you dipped your thumb into the slit at the top of his cock making him jerk forward into his hand.  “I’m so hard for you, please make me come.”  His eyes met yours, the deep blue in his iris’ was pleading for release, desperate to find some relief.  

You leaned forward and tipped your head up to nip at his pink lips.  They looked incredibly soft compared to the rough stubble that had been lining his jaw so often these past months.  You slotted your lips over his and licked into his mouth frantically trying to taste him, smell him, feel him.  You were desperate for him to invade all of your senses at once - to not know where your body ended and his began.  You withdrew your hand reluctantly from his length and hooked your fingers into your own yoga shorts.  “I need you to get in me.  Hurry ok? Just fuck me.”  You kicked your shorts to the side and looped your legs back around his waist.  His lips crashed down onto yours and he trailed his fingers through your slick lips, pushing his fingers deep into your core.  Your back arched, pushing your chest into his.  He pumped his fingers slowly while his mouth forged a wet trail down your neck and into the hollows of your collar bone.  

“You taste salty.  But still kinda sweet.  Like those salted caramels you make me get from the coffee shop.”  His teeth nipped across your skin and he pressed his thumb into your aching clit, rubbing across it gently.  You let out a whine, already feeling your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.  

“Shit - you’re so fucking hot Niall.  C’mon, I need you inside me.  I need it!”  You were practically begging for him, and he was never one to make you wait.  He pulled his fingers out of your body and sucked them into his mouth.  With a smirk he reached down and lined himself up with your entrance.  As he sank into you his eyes rolled back slightly and his jaw hung open.  You could only grasp desperately at his shoulders and tuck your forehead into his chest.  As your walls stretched around his pulsing length you could hear him muttering under his breath.

“Love you.  Fuck, love you so much.  Feels so good.  Love you.”

You pressed hot, wet kisses across his chest as he pulled his hips back and began thrusting into you.  You both had an arm braced against the counter, with the other wrapped around each other’s bodies - anchoring you to each other.  The hot coil of release was burning at the base of your spine and you could feel your toes starting to curl on their own accord.  You leaned back on both of your hands to gain some leverage and meet his thrusts.  Niall was staring down at where your bodies met, mesmerized at how he disappeared inside of you, only to pull back out slick with your wetness.  As his hips snapped unsteadily against you, you slid your fingers down to your throbbing bundle.  Just as you were starting to rub circles against it, Niall swatted your hand away and replaced it with his own calloused fingers.  He gripped onto your hip with one hand and carefully rolled your aching clit between his fingertips.  Over and over he coaxed your body to give him more.  More wetness, more noises, more more more.  In an instant you tipped over the edge, your body going rigid as your breath caught in your chest and your eyes squeezed shut.  A low, guttural noise started to roll from your chest but Niall leaned in and swallowed the moan into a kiss.  His hips stalled against you as he emptied himself inside you.  As you broke apart you both gasped for breath, your foreheads sticking together with sweat.

Silently he pulled out of you, gasping at the over sensitive feeling.  You grabbed some towels and cleaned up still not saying a word.  The only thing you could hear was the low thrum of the industrial washer and dryer and the soft meditation music being pumped through the speakers.  You got dressed and sorted out your mats and bags, still not saying a word to each other.  You checked the hallway, letting out a sigh of relief that the class had not yet ended and the rest of the studio was deserted.  Niall followed you back out to the bustling street, where morning commuters were still clogging up the sidewalks on their way to work.   You tossed the bags haphazardly into the back seat and slid into the driver’s seat of your car.  Niall was chewing thoughtfully on the side of his thumb and nodding slowly to himself.  You took a deep breath and dared to break the silence.

“Sooooooo…….that wasn’t usually how my yoga classes go.”  Niall didn’t seem to hear you, there was no acknowledgement or even a flutter of recognition that you’d been speaking.

“Niall.  Ni.  NIALL!”

“What?”  He finally dropped his thumb from his still-kiss swollen lips and looked at you.  His eyes were wide like a frightened animal and you could tell his head was somewhere else entirely.

“Are…are you ok?”  You were almost afraid to hear the answer.  You weren’t sure if Niall was going to cry or if he even knew who he was at this point.

He nodded slowly, seeming to choose his words carefully.  “I think…I think I need to call some people.”  You raised your eyebrows at him, an inkling of concern starting to take hold in your stomach.  “I need to find a contractor.”

You pulled your face in, confusion sweeping through your body.  “A contractor?  What the hell do you need a contractor for?”

His eyes focused on yours, and you finally saw a glint of mischief behind them.

“Cause I’m building a yoga studio in the house.  Immediately.”

You choked out a laugh and leaned over the center console.  Grabbing him by the thin cotton of his shirt you pulled him in and smacked a wet kiss to his lips.  He smiled against your mouth and growled playfully at you.  “You’re a nutter, you know that Niall Horan?”

He pecked another kiss to your lips and leaned back into his seat.  “Nah, just a man who knows what he likes.”

[macadoodle1996]

Arguing with an old fashion accessory was not how Evanna had imagined her first night of Hogwarts going.

"NO!" she said. "I'm at Hogwarts-I'm away from my family for the first time-you can't just send me back to them!"

The Sorting Hat chuckled. "You truly know nothing," it said amusedly.

"I know enough to blast you off the face of the earth," she growled.

"Should I not place you in Slytherin, where would I put you? You are no Hufflepuff," it reasoned.

"Anywhere. I don't care. I just want out from my father's thumb," she replied.

"My dear, you have never been under your father's thumb," it told her. "And in Slytherin you will rise so far that Lucius Malfoy would never be able to touch you."

Evanna pictured it in her mind's eye. Making her own allies in the House of Snakes, giving and taking favors, gaining respect and power, starting out of Hogwarts with an internship and connections, climbing her way up and shedding the Malfoy name until she was standing taller than all of them.

"So, léitheoir aigne, what do you say?" the Sorting Hat rumbled. Those words again, she would have to focus on that later.

"Are you sure you can't just send me to Gryffindor?" she all but whined. The Sorting Hat chuckled.

"The only one that would be more upset about that than my maker would be SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was said aloud, to the applause of the Great Hall. Evanna smoothed her skirt primly as she stood, making her way slowly to the table at the far left side of the hall, though not without a dirty look to the Sorting Hat. Her brother clapped her on the shoulder, but leaned over to her to mutter disapprovingly.

"You were almost a hatstall. What took so long?"

Evanna looked at him coolly. "I told you-I won't be Lucius Malfoy's prisoner any longer. The Sorting Hat just had to convince that I could do that without going to Gryffindor."

Her brother choked. "Gryff-"

"Shh, Draco," she said haughtily. "There is a Sorting ceremony going on."

Like they had predicted in the compartment, Bridget was Sorted into Hufflepuff and Ginny into Gryffindor, though Evanna noted that the girl looked a little disheartened as she went to sit with the lions. The feast was delicious, though Evanna did almost find herself wishing for the long oak table at the Manor, on the nights it had just been her and her mother as her father was out of town. She wrinkled her nose as her brother's friends, Crabbe and Goyle, overstuffed their plates and mouths.

"That's really who you choose to spend your time with?" she said derisively.

"Oi, Malfoy!" someone called from down the table. Evanna turned to see a dark-skinned boy with closely shaved hair and sparkling eyes. "You never told us you had a sister."

The boy winked at her. Evanna felt her cheeks burn.

"Shove off, Zabini," Draco glowered, halfway blocking Evanna with his body. "I didn't mention her to you for good reason."

Evanna shoved her way around him, holding out a hand as though she were some great lady. Which I will be. "You may call me Evanna."

"Then you may call me Blaise, fair lady," the boy said, giving her hand a dapper kiss. Evanna all but giggled. Draco looked between the two with obvious distaste.

"You're about to make me lose my supper, Zabini," he drawled.

"Anyone hear anything about Potter and the Weasel yet?" a whiny voice said from down the table. Draco's face crumpled in disgust for a moment before smoothing to the usual aristocrat in a way that Evanna knew the voice could belong to only one person: Pansy Parkinson.

"No, but I assume that they must be with Snape-he's been gone all night," someone else said down the table.

Draco looked almost gleeful. "Then surely that means that they'll be expelled!"

Evanna felt her heart pound uncomfortably at the thought. She had been wanting to see the boy with the broken glasses again, ever since she had met him earlier that summer. But for him to be expelled before she ever even got the chance…?

"Don't be so sure, Malfoy," Blaise replied. "Dumbledore and McGonagall have left now."

Draco said something that Evanna knew their mother would have never stood for. Before their conversation was able to go any further, however, the dishes disappeared from in front of them, eliciting groans from the hulking beasts that Draco called friends. Evanna wrinkled her nose.

"First years! First years this way!" a girl with a Prefect pin on her chest was calling, waving the Slytherins her way.

"Oi, midgets, get moving or get lost in the dungeons for three days!" her male counterpart followed up.

"Classy, Warrington," the girl sneered.

"Always, Padgett."

"You better get on," Draco said. "We'll see you in the dungeons."

Evanna nodded, clambering out from the table as gracefully as possible and joining the small group of Slytherin first years-and it was small. There were only four boys in her year and three girls. Evanna knew that Purebloods generally had very few children but it was more than that-the year she had been born was when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power. As she looked across the hall, she noted that her House did not have the only small incoming class. Growing up when she did, she knew that the war had been devastating to the Wizarding World in an intellectual sense; now she truly saw it for the first time.

"Is that all of you?" Padgett said with a sort of resigned look on her face. "Let's move."

The two Prefects began leading the first years through the corridors, the atmosphere growing darker and cooler as they drew closer to the dungeons.

"How far down do you think we'll go?" a blonde girl with glasses that made her look rather owlish asked nervously.

"Why? You scared of the dark?" one of the boys snickered, a nasty look on his face. Evanna decided that she did not like him.

"Any sane person should be," she informed him coolly. "Don't you know what lives in the dark?"

The boy must have seen something in Evanna's face that made him nervous because he quickly shut up and hustled to the front of the group. She smirked at him.

"Alright, little Snakelings," Padgett said, stopping in front of a nondescript door. "Welcome to your new home."

"Mind you don't forget the password-it changes every fortnight and if you forget to check it, you're just outta luck," Warrington said nastily. The first years clustered closer to him to make sure they did not miss the password. "Avalon."

The door sprang open and the students all filed in. If looking at Hogwarts had felt like coming home, the Common Room felt like a look inside of Evanna's soul. Directly across the room was a long window that seemed to have been carved from the rock itself. As she watched, a merwoman swam past, waving at an older student and making several hand gestures in quick succession, that the student seemed to respond to. There was a low fire burning in the stone fireplace, making what could have been damp and cold inviting. The room was decorated in rich greens and burnished silver, with low, plush couches that would not have looked out of place in the home of a Roman aristocrat. Without truly meaning to, a soft smile came to Evanna's face.

"Welcome to Slytherin House, firsties," Padgett said with a grin. "You all have a lot to live up to-Merlin was one of ours after all-but the Sorting Hat must've seen something in you lo-"

"I can take it from here, Ms. Padgett," a low voice said. From the shadows emerged a man who seemed to be draped in shadows himself. His lank hair was as dark as hers, and his skin just as pale, though he seemed a little more on the sickly side. All in all, he had the appearance of an overgrown bat. "You all will refer to me as Professor Snape or sir. I shall have the overrated privilege of trying to make you each into competent potion brewers in addition to being your Head of House."

Severus Snape. Evanna had heard the name before, and knew that he ran the same soial and political circles as her father, as well as being her brother's favorite professor. However, like so many names she knew, she had never met the man in person. He was intriguing, to say the least.

"In your seven years here, you will learn to comport yourself with the utmost of dignity and uphold the Slytherin ethos of tradition, fraternity, and excellence," he said pacing the line of new students, eyes landing on each one. "This means that no disagreement with a House mate will leave this Common Room and that any just punishment you receive from another teacher I will give you double."

The same nasty boy from earlier opened his mouth and Professor Snape held up a finger, giving half a smirk.

"That also means that I will always fight for you when that punishment is unearned," he said slowly. "You shall always do your very best in your classes and seek assistance from your Prefects or myself when your efforts are insufficient. And finally, your appearance shall always reflect the long tradition of excellence that our House has held. With that in mind-Eva Blishwick."

The blonde girl jumped forward as Professor Snape read her name from a scroll. He handed her a silver and green tie, and a patch with a swirling snake on it.

"The House-elves shall see to it that all of your uniform robes have your crest and are properly lined with green," he told the room at large before speaking to her directly. "Wear it well."

Blishwick nodded and darted back to the line.

"Elias Gamp!" A boy with a smattering of freckles darted forward. "Wear it well. Elin Gamp." The girl who was obviously his twin stepped forward, almost at his hip. "Wear it well. Jaime Hughes." The nasty boy who had made fun of Eva Blishwick. "Wear it well. Teagan Leroy." A lanky brunette. "Wear it well. Evanna Malfoy."

Professor Snape had paused before he read off her name and his eyes snapped up to her own immediately.

She looks nothing like Lucius.

Evanna blinked in confusion and took a few measured steps to her new Head of House, his fathomless eyes burrowing into her very being as she took her tie and crest from his tapered fingers. She wondered absently if he had ever played piano, like her mother had taught her to do when she was young.

"Wear it well," he said slowly, seeming unable to tear his eyes from her. The longer he stared, the more uncomfortable she felt.

"Thank you, sir," she said, just to break the tension. "Is something wrong, sir?"

The professor seemed to shake himself. "Off to bed, all of you. Boys to the left, girls to the right. First years' curfew is 9:30 and all of you are to be in beds, curtains drawn at that time. My prefects will report to me if you are not."

The first years all hustled to do as they were told. Evanna felt so exhausted-and her belly so full-that she knew she would immediately fall asleep. The letter to her mother would have to wait until morning.