#i did not add the We Have Done the Impossible and That Makes Us Mighty gif

[spnscripthunt-inactive]

SPNNJ Sunday autographs:

JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN on 14.13 "Lebanon" (Yellow Draft). We'll be adding Sam Smith at SPNSF, J2M at Charlotte, and if the stars align (🤞🕯🙏) we'll get Kurt Fuller too

Jim Beaver on 3.04 "Sin City" (prev. J2 from SPNLV 2023)

Thank you 🫶

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

i’m really worried about caleb.

like, first off? liam broke character early in the episode to say aloud, “caleb’s not having a good time, guys.” that rang alarms in my head immediately. liam doesn’t just tell the rest of the cast how his character is feeling in the moment. no one in the cast does that. they roleplay it, because the fun is in acting out your character’s behavior so someone gets the opportunity to notice it.

the fact that liam was roleplaying distress and panic and immense guilt, even throughout reassurance, before getting the actor’s equivalent of grasping for words before just saying outright: “caleb’s not having a good time”?

shit.

to unfortunately add on further, there’s a core to caleb’s self-harm and self-hate that can essentially be summed up as: he dehumanizes himself. he very rarely expresses his feelings or emotions with the expectation that they have inherent value. when he presents an idea that holds emotional significance for him, like possibly reaching out to astrid and eadwulf for help in eiselcross, he couches it in abstract excuses. it would be useful. it would be helpful. it would be smart. it would make a good plan.

that is his approach to himself. he can’t express that he wants to do something because he feels like it—because his feelings aren’t worth shit. the only thing he’s worth is how useful he is.

so—he wakes up sane in the vergessen sanatorium and decides that he’s only going to live to travel through time and prevent his parents from dying. there is no happiness for him, no future waiting for him, and no real atonement. there is only how he can put his magical talent to use in figuring out the impossible.

so—he becomes part of the mighty nein. he’s a team player now. he learns spells to help his friends. he casts them to help his friends. he trades favors for favors: with beau in hupperdook, with fjord in dashilla’s lair. the only way he will get help and concern, after all, is if he is useful.

this same perspective surfaced in this last episode when caleb suggested trading himself for everyone else’s safety. because his worth is in how useful he is—and right now he’s endangering them, and they could go free if he offers himself to ikithon.

and no one contradicted him.

on how useful his sacrifice would be, sure. if he left, they wouldn’t be able to teleport anywhere. if he left, he wouldn’t be able to help them against the tomb takers and the eyes of nine. but on his inherent value as a person, someone who is suggesting being given to his abuser? nope. no mention of that.

on the beach, when they were inspecting the crystals stolen from the sanatorium, veth implicitly asked caleb whether he would put them back in his arms if they made his magic more powerful.

caleb said no, because he has so much trauma around those goddamn crystals that he regularly scratches at the scars covering his arms.

and no one else offered an agreement with that sentiment.

do you know what one of the most moving scenes for caleb and his character growth was tied to? when he finally lays out all of his past for the entire mighty nein in a shitty inn room in episode 110, he expects to be judged. he expects rejection—from jester most of all.

and her first move is to hug him and say: “you must have been so sad, caleb. i’m sorry you felt like you had to hide that.”

he breaks down at this, hard. because caleb had not ever acknowledged his own emotions from what he’s gone through as valid. he had never allowed the simple mercy of recognizing himself as a person: not just someone who committed terrible crimes, but a child. a child who was abused by a much older, powerful man, and whose beloved parents were murdered.

so—when he expects to be judged by the abstract concepts of morality, of right and wrong, of the horror of patricide? he is instead recognized as a person who has been struggling and in pain. he receives an apology for the fact that he did not feel safe around them.

the same kind of uncomprehending, overwhelming emotion appears on his face when jester responds to his apology for keeping secrets with: “we lie. we lie about things all the time to protect other people. sometimes to protect ourselves. i don’t blame you for that.”

rather than taking offense at having something this important hidden from her by caleb, jester instead validates his fears and concerns. it doesn’t matter if hiding what he did was inconvenient to her or dishonest—he felt afraid. and she doesn’t blame him for acting in ‘selfishness’ and fear.

the first time he truly got angry about what was done to him was two episodes ago. one day ago in in-game time.

so yeah, i’m worried for caleb. because he’s in a terrible place, and no one has gotten to tell him yet that they care about him as a person. that no, they don’t judge him for how violent he got at the sanatorium when he personally suffered at that institution. that no, they would never trade him to ikithon for safety because ikithon was his abuser, and he is not getting hurt again. that no, they would never ask him to retraumatize himself in order to be useful.

this episode was extremely chaotic and stressful, so i don’t blame anyone. i just really hope they find the time in the next episode or so to tell caleb how much they love him.

(EDIT 3/10: please look in the notes for my additional commentary.)

[okay-j-hannah]

May The Best Man Win

The Marauders : Oneshot

James x Reader x Sirius

Word Count: 9358

Warnings: I’m not a big swearer, but I did add something in the end 😂 this turned way angsty, like A LOT, which is what I think the requester wanted 

Request: “y/n can’t choose between James and Sirius. preferably tons and tons of angst” - Anon

A/N: A friendly competition turns sour as these best friends fight for your heart without any good intentions

“This is simple.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is!”

Sirius sunk further into his chair, covering his eyes with one hand and another holding an ice cold butterbeer.

James stood from the couch, fingers to his temples, glasses askew, “Listen, I saw her first, therefore I get dibs.”

“You shouldn’t call dibs on a girl,” Remus muttered, his quill whizzing across his essay, “That’s not fair for her or for any other potential suitors.”

Peter peered up at his scarred friend from his place on the rug, “Are you saying you fancy her too, Mooney?”

“You can’t claim the girl just because you saw her first,” Sirius reiterated, continuing to block the firelight as it burned his gaze. “Besides, I was the first one to actually speak to her.”

“Is that true, Prongs?” Peter asked, eyes flipping between all those that were talking.

James messed with his hair again, “Well… that’s only because you caught my snitch as it drifted towards her.”

“So you could say that you led me to her.”

The two friends shared a look, one smirking and one grimacing. James paced in front of the fireplace, loosening his tie as Peter followed him with his gaze. Sirius appeared amused that he not only got the first introduction with this girl, but also in flustering his friend.

“Can I ask – are you two interested in this girl because you actually fancy her, or because you want to beat one another?” Remus asked, taking a heavy sigh and corking his ink bottle.

James appeared affronted while Sirius simply looked tired, “I don’t know, I was rather enjoying seeing Potter break his neck while I wooed the lady.”

“Of course I like her, Mooney, why else does a chap make a fool of himself.”

“Oh, come on, Prongs. You only slipped in the corridor twice,” Sirius mused, taking a sip of his drink. “Forgive me, I didn’t count the time you fell through the Fat Friar – that would make it three times.”

Remus rolled up his parchment and added in a delighted voice, “For a gifted quidditch player you can really trip over nothing, can’t you James.”

Sirius chuckled, sneaking a glance at his pacing friend, “Seeking love is a fools errand.”

“If you really believe that then why are you fighting against me asking (Y/N) out?”

“Are you telling us that you’ve found love at first sight?”

James grimaced, leaning against the mantle, “Not… not necessarily.”

“You just think she’s very pretty?” Remus questioned, now settling into the conversation with his homework done.

“No!”

“Beautiful, then?” Peter suggested. And with a swift look from his peer, he shut his mouth.

“Look, I’ll admit that (Y/N) is very attractive, and she caught my eye…”

Sirius cleared his throat, looking off into the distance, “And every other bloke in the Great Hall.” He practically snickered at the sneer coming from James.

“But you need someone to distract you from Lily Evans consistently rejecting your advances,” Remus delivered mercilessly, “You needed a beautiful rebound to make her jealous.”

Sirius finally sat straight in his chair, eyes uncovered, “That’s it, isn’t it?”

James was overly flustered again, hair seeming to frazzle with static, “Well, it sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.”

“You mean the truth?” Remus muttered, folding his arms to warm his cool hands, “If no one’s going to take into consideration the feelings of this girl, I might as well.”

“Alright, I have a bet,” Sirius stated loudly over Remus. He took a mighty swig of his butterbeer, “We both want a girl for the wrong reasons.”

James frowned, wiping a hand over his face, and Peter interjected, “Prongs wants her for the rebound – what’s your wrong reason, Padfoot?”

“Haven’t you been listening to the conversation?” Sirius continued, “I just wanted to spite him, taking the girl right from under him.” His elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped together, “How about we make it a proper competition. You’ll be able to take your mind off Evans and I’ll have something to do other than pantsing Filch and backtalking Minnie.”

The disapproval was immediate on Remus’ face, but he let them finish their statements, knowing precisely when to intervene. James furrowed his brow, a finger between his lips as he contemplated.

“It definitely would make Lily notice.”

“Possibly jealous.”

“And you could build cred that you’re the romantic type.”

“And the ladies will be lining up at my door to get a piece of the action.”

Peter again seemed bewildered at the talk, “I’m sorry, what – what is this proper competition?”

Remus sighed, willing his patience to continue, “These two are disregarding the feelings of a fellow classmate in the hopes that she’ll better their love lives outside of their fake relationship.” When the poor blonde boy seemed even more confused, he added, “Essentially these two want to try and win over (Y/N)’s affection, seeing which one gets it first, and then drop her flat with no consequences.”

“Ah, but the reward will be great,” Sirius stated, grinning, “Breaking one girls heart is worth the dozens that will be willingly given to me afterwards.”

James appeared a bit more skeptical, much to Remus’ satisfaction, “And Lily will realize what she’s been missing out on.”

“You two are impossible,” Remus finally uttered, “I will not condone this; I think you sometimes forget that I am a Gryffindor Prefect.”

“No, I could’ve sworn it was Ravenclaw.”

“Smartass.”

“Besides the point,” Remus waved his hands, light igniting his gaze, “I will not have you play with this girls emotions and then drop her brokenhearted and despising you for the rest of our time at Hogwarts, if not the rest of our lives.”

Sirius let there be a pause after the statement before continuing with a kind of vigor, “Well, now that we’ve gotten the grouchy warning out of the way. I’d say we put it to a vote.”

James nodded, “All in favor of this proper competition for the affections of the one (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He raised his hand along with Sirius.

After another tense pause and a threatening glare from Sirius, an intimidated Peter reluctantly rose his hand. Remus gave a heavy sigh, crossing his arms tighter against his chest, “This happens every time – you can’t will Peter to your side in every argument.”

“Well, at least for this one, we have,” Sirius laughed, rising from his chair and waltzing over to his friend for a bone crushing handshake, “May the best man win.”

James returned the aggressive grip, staring into the mischievous glint in Sirius’ eyes, “And upon agreement, we do not let her know of this competition, this is (Y/N) falling for us naturally using our own wit and charm.”

“Therefore, I will be gaining the advantage because I am overflowing with both.”

Peter chimed in with a nervous smile, “And we can’t persuade her to go for one of you over the other?”

“No, we’ll use you as spies,” James continued, massaging his crushed hand, “If she decides to talk to you about one of us, you are legally bound to tell us everything she said.”

“And if we tell you to pass along particular information, you will please do exactly that.” Sirius returned to his chair but opted for leaning against the back of it. “And the competition will only end when she is given the ultimatum and has chosen one of us.”

James nodded, pulling his tie even looser, “And we have by the end of the school year – if she hasn’t chosen by then we’ll give her the final question before exams.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Remus huffed, “Don’t lay a question like that on the girl before exams; at least wait until after when she has nothing else to worry about.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ll have to think about that,” Sirius gloated, “Because I’ll make her fall months before final exams.”

~~~

(Y/N) wandered the corridor, a very peculiar incident waying on her mind. She just had the most bewildering interaction with James Potter right outside the Great Hall. The boy was all in a tither, apparently at the end of a rather exhausted sprint down the main staircase.

“Good – Good afternoon, (Y/N),” he had huffed. “How are you?”

She smiled, puzzled, “I’m fine, thank you. You don’t seem to be, though.” She gave him a hesitant look and watched as he awkwardly tried to gather himself.

“Right, yes – it’s hard to run down stone stairs without falling – takes all my concentration; especially when my focus is elsewhere.” He gazed at her behind his squared glasses, hoping he wasn’t being too subtle.

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, scrunching her face as she thought, “What’s on your mind?”

When he grinned at her reply, she couldn’t help but find him quite cute. His gleaming smile complimented his light eyes and dark hair well. Of course she had heard of Potter, him and all of his boisterous friends, but she’d never found herself caught up in a one-on-one conversation with him.

Just the other day she ran into his best mate, Sirius, in the Great Hall. And from that interaction it appeared he’d never laid eyes on her before. Perhaps he said something to James?

“I saw you crossing the corridor. I was trying to think of something clever to say.”

It was incredibly apparent that James was feigning a kind of bravado that his friend Sirius had once shown her. But all too noticeably she was able to pick out the hesitance and anxiety behind his words.

It made her smile even more as he peered down through his unbalanced glasses.

“And you came up with ‘good afternoon’?” she snickered, readjusting her heavy book bag. “You sure it took all of your concentration? Seems a bit obvious.”

This time he laughed along with her, finding his hands itching to fidget with his snitch. How was he supposed to focus on befriending (Y/N) when he had Sirius’ obnoxious face in the back of his mind? He could practically hear his friend mocking his conversational direction.

“Yeah, you got me,” he sighed, “I saw you and my mind went blank.”

She paused momentarily, letting that sentence tense the room. He appeared to sense the shift, messing with his hair even more, which she noticed with a skip in her heartbeat. What could she say? It was cute.

“Well – I’ve got to get studying.” She gestured her path set for the oak front doors, “I promised myself I would ace McGonagall’s exam.”

James saw his opportunity immediately and chose to seize it, “I’ve been meaning to study too! Do you want a study partner? I’m completely hopeless, but I have no doubt you could put me to good use.”

She couldn’t deny the plea in his gaze. Did he really want to? Why would he, all of the sudden? They were never great friends before. But when his tousled hair fell over the rim of his glasses, the skip in her chest wouldn’t allow her to refuse.

“Sure, if you don’t mind going outside. I like walking along the forbidden forest and sitting in the pumpkin patch.”

Her acceptance was enough to make James bounce on the balls of his feet, “Perfect.” He leaned towards the front doors and she took the hint to lead the way. In another stroke of genius he reached out a hand, “Let me carry your bag; you look about ready to collapse under the weight.”

“Are you calling me weak, Potter?”

He smirked at the use of his last name, “Absolutely not. It’s just, I told you I was hopeless with the studying. Maybe my uses will fall under ‘pack mule.’”

It made her laugh enough that she willingly shrug the bag off her shoulder and into his hands.

He liked the sound of her laugh. It was the kind of laugh that infected everything within its vicinity. It even made him want to join her, but he chose to offer a pleasant smile.

In that unsavory part in the back of his head, James could see Sirius unwillingly placing a point under ‘Potter.’ It looked like he was getting the head start.

Back in the Gryffindor dormitories, Sirius was brooding against his window, staring down at the grounds. He was witnessing the playful interactions between James and (Y/N) in the pumpkin patch.

They each sat on their own massive pumpkins, which were grown to colossal size for the Halloween festivities. They appeared to be laughing, James distracting her from whatever she was reading.

James quickly snatched the book from her hands, and she jokingly nudged his arm in protest. He held the book high and laughed at her pout.

It made Sirius clench his fists against the stone wall. If only he had gotten to her first. He would have to put some extra effort into getting on her good side after today. Just the way she sneaked glances at James when he wasn’t looking already put Sirius on edge.

There was no way James was more charming then him. Sure they were a pair, but James was the one good at sports, family dinners, and sneaking around the castle with his invisibility cloak. Sirius was the one good with wit, flirting, and sneaking them in and out of trouble.

He couldn’t help but think of how much more capable James was with relationships too. He was always a bit more open and willing to share then Sirius ever was.

“If you ground into that wall any harder, I fear the stone will start to turn to dust.” Remus laughed aloud, in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap with Peter.

Sirius had to will his hand out of its clenched fist. “Just look how far he’s gotten. She all over him!”

“Shoving him away is hardly the definition of ‘all over him.’” Remus corrected, placing another card on his tower, “They’re simply being friendly.”

“Your heart isn’t in the game, Mooney. I can’t trust your judgement.”

Sirius watched as the sun began to dip and James offered another stroll towards the Black Lake. How dare he! That was Sirius’ move.

“You spoke to her first, didn’t you?” His tone was flat, but Remus always had the need to cheer his friends. “I doubt she’s forgotten you so quickly.”

“You’re not seeing the way she looks at him.”

“It’s only been a few days, Padfoot,” Peter muttered, always afraid to be snapped at for his opinion. “(Y/N)’s sensible – she’ll weigh her options carefully. You’ve got plenty of time to show her what you have to offer.”

Surprisingly, Sirius didn’t feel the need to belittle Peter, “I’m just going to have to think of a more memorable event. Sure James could bump into her and do some homework outside. But that’s not so significant, students do homework every day.”

“What do you consider an insignificant event?” Peter paused his turn at the Exploding Snap tower, sensing the uneasiness in Remus’ brow.

“Please don’t tell me your intentions include the hospital wing?” Remus asked.

Sirius tried to watch the couple out the window with the darkness descending on them. “It won’t be needed if I can catch her in time.”

Remus widened his tired eyes, Peter attempting to match the mood. “What are you thinking, Sirius? Don’t be doing anything stupid. Getting expelled isn’t worth this bet.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. It’s nothing to be worried about – not by you two.” He retreated to his bed, stretching out with a new air of confidence, “Damsels in distress can’t resist a prince charming.”

“I have to insist, Sirius.”

He rolled his eyes, “If I tell you, there’s a chance James will find out. I don’t need any interference.”

“So help me,” Remus glowered, “If I find out this girl is incapacitated because of your tomfoolery…”

“Relax, Mooney – all’s fair in love and war.”

~~~

The rain was falling into a lazy drizzle, calming the cold that had plagued them that morning. (Y/N) followed the stone steps outside and up towards the owlery, protecting her letters from the last remnants of rainfall.

She dwelled on her conversation with her good friend Mary MacDonald last night. It was a much needed vent about the last few weeks, and Mary was more than willing to listen. She was always a sweet friend.

“James Potter? Are you serious?”

“Yes!” (Y/N) had said, “And we walked along the forest and the lake well into the night. We just talked and talked, and it was actually… really nice.”

“I always thought Potter was a bit of a pompous prat.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Sometimes that does shine through, but I’m getting good at knocking him off his high horse when it does.”

Mary ran a hand through her hair, thinking, “Have you done anything since then?”

“To tell you the truth it’s like he can’t leave me alone. He keeps cropping up in all sorts of places – it’s like I can’t refuse him as a friend now. It’s usually when I’m studying in the Great Hall or the library; he shows up with treats or ideas about walking the quidditch pitch.”

There was a strange glint now entering Mary’s eyes. She let (Y/N) ramble on some more, waiting for some dire information.

“I’ll admit it’s been fun, it’s definitely confusing, but also fun. I’m starting to get used to having him around – he’s always cracking jokes. He knows how to make me laugh. And...”

“Oh, and his hair, right? How he’s always ruffling it around,” Mary put an edge of mockery in her tone, but she was thrilled with the wide eyed reaction from (Y/N). “And his glasses…”

(Y/N) stared at her friend for a moment too long before a blush betrayed her, “… they’re always crooked.”

Mary nodded to herself, a fist under her chin and a smug look on her face. “You like him, don’t you?”

She gave it a lot of thought, “I don’t know. He’s cute and I enjoy being around him. But it’s too soon to tell.”

“It seems pretty obvious to me,” Mary concluded, pointing at her friend accusingly, “You have feelings for James Potter.”

(Y/N) began to retort, “We’ve only been hanging out for a week!”

“And he’s obviously been doing something right because you are still thinking about that week.”

Now as (Y/N) climbed the staircase towards the owlery, she sighed. Maybe she did feel something for James. She couldn’t deny the skipping of her heart every time he brushed her shoulder with his.

After tying her letters to nearby barn and screech owls, (Y/N) went for her favorite spot just outside the tower. She sat on the railing and let her legs swing in the open air, taking a deep breath of the crisp wind.

The stone was still damp from the ceasing rain and it made her fingertips cold touching it. She had hoped the fresh air would clear her head of her recent puzzling thoughts and feelings. But the longer she sat there, the more she found her mind fogging up.

What was she doing sitting on the railing? How did she get up there?

Shaking her head a bit, (Y/N) tried to turn herself around but found another wave of confusion hit her.

Where was she, again?

And reflexively scooching to one side to peer at her surroundings, (Y/N) found herself unbalanced and sliding off whatever she was sitting upon. Was this a railing?

She began to slip off the damp stone, a sudden shriek on her lips. Her feet found no traction as they descended further, and her hands grappled for any kind of purchase. In just a few seconds she was dangling from the edge of the staircase, fingers cold and numb against the rough bricks.

She couldn’t find her voice as she struggled to wedge a foot along the side. Heavy breaths came from her lungs as whimpers escaped her.

But in another few seconds, she heard another’s voice.

“Woah! What are you doing?”

Frantically turning her gaze upward, (Y/N) saw a familiar face. Sirius Black?

“H-Help.”

He copied her panicked face, fumbling with stowing his wand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” His hands found hers and he began to hoist her up.

(Y/N) scrambled over the edge, feeling the numbness that started in her fingers trail through the rest of her body. She could hardly comprehend the way she fell into Sirius’ arms, clutching at his cloak out of sheer panic.

“Hey, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, (Y/N).”

He felt the shivers racking her body as he held her to him. An unexpected pang of guilt shot through him. She had fistfuls of his cloak, fear plain in her eyes as she stared at a fixed point ahead.

“Are you all right?” When she didn’t respond, Sirius tried cupping her face, turning her gaze to him. “Are you all right, (Y/N)?”

She looked at him hard, blinking furiously as warmth began to seep back into her bones. “I – um… I think so.”

“You’re not hurt at all?”

She stared at the way his face changed when he asked it. A crease formed between his eyebrows and his eyes were set upon hers. She started to feel his hands on her cheeks and a sudden rush of heat flooded them.

“No, no – I think I’m good.”

That warmth began to unfreeze her limbs, her mind no longer so foggy. She took a deliberate step away from Sirius, embarrassed by the momentary close contact.

He held his hands up, noticing the swift retreat, “Hey, I’m just checking. You look a little shaken.”

She looked around her, “I don’t understand,” she muttered.

“What were you doing sitting on the edge of the stairs? You do realize it was raining this morning.”

She looked harder but couldn’t find any reason. She must’ve just slipped, though she’d sat on that railing for years and never fallen. “I come up here to think. I’ve never fallen before.”

He nodded but kept a concerned look on his face, “You seem a little dazed. Maybe you should visit the hospital wing – Madam Pomfrey might have something to calm you down.”

“I told you I was all right.”

“I know, but it would make me feel better if you got checked out anyways.”

Was her mind still foggy or was Sirius Black showing genuine concern? She snapped her gaze back to his and realized that the arrogant flirt from that day in the Great Hall was completely gone. It was almost bewildering to see his face without the smugness or the classic smirk.

Her stomach churned, whether from leftover fear or freshly made nerves, she didn’t know. But she was compelled to return the compassion.

“Thank you,” she said, “For pulling me up.”

A smile returned to his features, “It’s no problem. Damsels are my specialty.”

So the arrogant flirt was still in there.

“It was lucky you came over here. I would’ve been a goner.”

She waited for him to say something obnoxious like ‘yeah, you are lucky, princess,’ or ‘just call me savior from now on.’ But he caught himself with his mouth agape, it was a calculated hesitance.

“I’m glad,” he said, more sincerity in his tone. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Her stomach did another involuntary flip. Did Sirius always have such a nice smile? She never realized how kind it was, or how warm his eyes were.

“Can we stop by the hospital wing real quick?”

“We?” she murmured, still dazed by the sudden rush of epiphanies.

He chuckled, “I’d like to follow through, if you don’t mind. What if you slipped on your way down to the castle?”

(Y/N) recognized the chuckle as something to accompany a witty remark, but this time it was partnered with a warm gaze and a slanted brow.

“Sure,” she said, hesitantly. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re acting strange.”

He laughed again, leading the way back down the stairs, respectfully keeping his distance from her now. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” (Y/N) hid her hands in her pockets, hoping the redness had dulled in her cheeks, “You haven’t said anything irritatingly pretentious yet.”

He let out a low whistle, “The damsel bites back.” She didn’t say anything more so he shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to assume I’m like that all the time.”

Had she made assumptions? She had only spoken to him that one other time in the Great Hall.

~~~

There was a very clear thwack as the portrait swung closed. Mumblings could be heard from the Fat Lady and a string of first and second years scrambled to move their things elsewhere and avoid the coming carnage.

James came tromping towards the corner of comfy couches the marauders normally occupied, finding the trio he was seeking.

“You have some explaining to do,” he pointed at Sirius, “And it better be lengthy and detailed.”

The venom was perfectly seen in his words, and it only made the victory that much sweeter in Sirius’ eyes. “Yes, Prongs?”

“How unrelentingly pig-headed are you? How much of a conniving, thieving git are you?” James began to rise his voice much to the growing grin on Sirius’ face.

Remus began to contort his brow, “What’s happened, James?”

“What’s happened is that Sirius has no regard for (Y/N)’s safety. Apparently it was thrown out the window when he decided to toy with her to get back at me.”

“Who said anything about getting back at you? I’m just playing the game.” Sirius was much too relaxed on the sofa for James’ liking.

Peter piped up, “What’s happened to (Y/N)?” He had grown quite fond of the girl whenever they met in the library. She was always kind to him when he struggled with assignments.

“Sirius landed her in the hospital wing!” James hissed, “She just told me downstairs.”

Remus rounded on their friend, “You said you wouldn’t let it get that far!”

“You knew about it!”

“Is (Y/N) all right?”

Sirius yelled the loudest, “Alright, you pansies, calm yourselves. (Y/N) is fine.”

“Not before she was almost thrown off the side of the owlery.”

Remus felt his jaw drop, “You shoved her off the stairs?”

Sirius jumped to his feet, “Now, now, Mooney – let’s not fall to any conclusions. (Y/N) was sitting on the railing and I simply nudged her into the perfect position for a rescue.”

James was fighting the urge to sock his friend in the face. “By having her fear for her life, dangling on the side of a mountain?”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t meant to go that far.”

“Then how far, exactly?” Remus urged, “Be careful, Sirius – I might not hold James back from hitting you.”

“I just sent a little confundus charm her way while she was sitting there so she would forget why she was there in the first place. Then I thought I’d surprise her, she’d jump a bit, I’d steady her so she wouldn’t fall… easy.”

James had to cross his arms very tightly to keep them from swinging, “And you took the charm too far?”

Sirius felt a familiar pang of guilt, the look of terror on (Y/N)’s face as she clutched at him resurfacing in his memory. “Perhaps. But she’s all right, isn’t she? I took her to the hospital wing just to make sure, and Madam Pomfrey said after a nights rest she’d be fine!”

The silence was tense and anxious. Remus looked ready to attack Sirius just as much as James wanted to, but maybe not as ferociously. Peter cowered in the corner, wishing to run from the fight.

Sirius was the only one with a casual look on his face, “You two are overreacting.”

“I can’t believe you would put (Y/N) into such unnecessary danger,” Remus remarked.

“You’re overlooking the benefits, though,” Sirius continued, “Clearly (Y/N) has been talking about me. Clearly she has me on her mind, exactly where I want to be.” He stared smugly at James, relishing in his fuming state.

James couldn’t comprehend the fury he was feeling. How dare Sirius take such measures. How dare he hurt someone he cared about.

Wait.

Someone he cared about?

“This isn’t a game anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is (Y/N) we’re talking about,” James reiterated, “She isn’t a chess piece – she’s our friend. You clearly are taking it way too far. I thought charm and flirting would’ve sufficed, but you want to throw in some death defying stunts…”

Sirius held his hands up, his smugness melting away, “Easy – you don’t think I was worried about her too? I’m sensing a little more than anger here, Prongs.”

James swallowed hard, his face set, “That might be my restraint in killing you right now.”

“No, no – I think you’re hiding some other unresolved feelings.” Saying the words did uneasy things to his chest, much to his chagrin. “Perhaps you’ve been enjoying your time with (Y/N) more than you thought.” Just the idea made unwanted jealousy bubble in his stomach.

Why would he feel that?

James had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something rash. From giving himself away.

“Just stay away from her – for a little while. I think you’ve traumatized her; she won’t go across a bridge without someone with her.” He began to retreat, coolness to his tone, wishing to be alone now.

“And let you get ahead? I don’t think so.”

James stopped in his tracks for only a second before thinking better of the situation and leaving the common room.

The remaining three sat in silence for a few minutes, Sirius finally feeling able to let his guard down and appear sulky. Peter flickered his beady eyes between his companions as Remus attempted to study Sirius’ face.

“Are you all right?”

Sirius barely sneered, “What?”

“We were so busy worrying about (Y/N), we didn’t ask how you were.” Remus tilted his head in thought, “You did almost send the girl to her death.”

The unwanted heat in his chest made Sirius stir uncomfortably, “It was a surprise.”

Remus knew better and waited for his friend to build up the courage to continue.

“When she fell over… for a split second – I didn’t know what to do.” He paused and waited to see if someone would stop him. He tried with difficulty to gather his thoughts, “I was terrified. I was angry at myself.”

There was another bout of silence and it appeared that Remus was satisfied with the outcome of his questioning. Sirius was relieved, it was overwhelmingly hard for him to describe his feelings.

“James isn’t going to forgive so easily.”

“I know that.”

“And (Y/N) doesn’t know her fall wasn’t accidental?”

“If she did I doubt she would’ve let me walk her back to her dormitory.” There was a distant look in Sirius as he thought of the memory. He was finally able to get her to smile again right before saying goodnight.

~~~

Mary was more skeptical than ever as they trudged through the snow covered grounds. It seemed impossible.

How could both James Potter and Sirius Black be fawning over her best friend?

“And then what did he do?”

“He pointed out the mistletoe and looked at me expectantly. And what was I supposed to do?” (Y/N) mused, almost embarrassed by how much she liked the moment.

“So you kissed him?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed – I thought you were team James from the beginning.”

Mary didn’t respond right away, “How was it?”

(Y/N) appeared to like that question, “Merlin, I’ve never had so many butterflies. He kissed me once, real quick. And it looked like he was going to say something, so I just went for another one!” She kicked a pile of snow, entirely too happy to remark on the few flakes that fell on her face. “And before I knew it, we were on the couch.”

“You didn’t…?”

“No, we just kissed.” (Y/N) said quickly, “But it was the best kiss I think I’ve ever had.”

The retellings of the Christmas weekend were definitely something to behold. Both Black and Potter decided to try and one up the others time with (Y/N). It appeared that Mary was the only one to have noticed. Merlin only knows what Sirius will do once he figured out James had kissed (Y/N).

“Well, what about Sirius? Did you two do anything over the weekend?”

“We spent Sunday with Remus and got in a snowball fight. Sirius shoved snow down my cloak like the git he is. But when we walked back to the castle he asked if I was all right.”

“He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Seems to wait for when no one is around.”

(Y/N) felt defiant, “Sirius doesn’t like people to know he’s a good guy. He has to keep up appearances, you know.”

Mary found the sudden urge to list the pros and cons of the boys laid out before them. “But James has never struggled with showing you how he feels.”

“But have you seen him around the quidditch pitch? I could climb to the moon on the ego he has while on a broomstick.”

“But he also is a gentleman – he carries your books, takes you out to Hogsmeade, brings you treats…”

(Y/N) blew hot air between her numb hands, “Yeah, but no one asks me how I’m doing more than Sirius. And he is determined to make sure I’m not lying; he hates it when I say, ‘I’m fine.’” She fiddled with her pockets as a frown soured her face, “And I’m pretty sure I caught James pining over Lily Evans the other day.”

That startled Mary a bit, “Did they use to go out?”

“No, but James fancied her a lot! Peter told me. She rejected him something fierce.”

“And you think he’s still stuck on her?”

“Maybe.” The grimace didn’t suit (Y/N). “And then there’s Sirius – the perpetual bachelor.”

Mary snuck a smile, “Yeah, but Sirius always has a string of girls wanting to go out with him. He lets his good looks get to his head.”

“Sometimes I think he doesn’t believe he’ll ever find someone,” (Y/N) mumbled, “I know his arrogant, witty side is a front. He almost gets nervous whenever I try to make a move.”

“Really?” Mary dramatized, “I thought Sirius Black never got nervous.”

“That’s cause you haven’t taken the time to get to know him.”

Mary nudged her further, “And what about James? Does he have some secret?”

(Y/N) pondered thoughtfully, “I think he’s scared no one likes him compared to Sirius. He has a good heart and comes from a wealthy family. But he wants to make a name for himself, so he puts everything he has into his friends and quidditch. He gets jealous quite a lot.”

“Interesting.”

“And that’s not even mentioning Sirius and his family. Man, I thought I didn’t get along with my parents, you should look at his.” She found herself taken slower and slower steps, her voice now lowering, “You know his entire family is in Slytherin? And he’s a Gryffindor… that should be enough to speak for his character. He despises what his family represents.”

“I didn’t know that.” Mary was now beginning to understand the predicament that (Y/N) had found herself in.

Both of these boys were setting up a dangerous game. One that was going to end only in heartbreak and guilt. And Mary didn’t like that her best friend was tangled in the middle of it.

“What are you going to do?”

(Y/N) paused, halting her steps. “You mean – who am I going to choose?”

“I don’t think you should let it go on much farther. I think both of them are falling for you and eventually one of them is going to be let down, and you’re going to feel terrible for doing it.”

They stood there ankle deep in snow as the gears turned in (Y/N)’s head. Mary could’ve sworn steam was beginning to come out of her ears.

“I don’t know if I can choose.”

Mary frowned, “Well, you need to explore your options. You obviously care for both of them, now you just need to figure out which one you love.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard at the thought: love.

“I haven’t kissed Sirius yet.”

“No, you haven’t,” Mary continued, helping the thinking aloud process. “But just because you can kiss them doesn’t mean you love them.” She was painfully aware of the numbness creeping into her stone cold feet, but (Y/N) didn’t appear to be.

And another set of footprints was coming their way, crunching in the snow.

“Oh, I think that’s James now. Act as if we haven’t been talking about him this whole time.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as they were joined, “Hello, James.”

“Hi, (Y/N) – Mary. How are you?” His cheeks were rosy with the cold, his pale complexion making his ruffled hair stand out. He was staring only at (Y/N) as he asked the question.

She felt her heart throb, “I think my fingers are frostbit, but other than that, perfectly fine.” She laughed his favorite laugh.

“Well, no wonder; you’re not wearing any gloves.” And there was no hesitation as he reached for her hands to warm them up between his. He blew hot air between her fingers and rubbed them together.

(Y/N) was mesmerized, her flushed cheeks growing to down her neck. Mary noticed but didn’t say anything, only smirked.

“Better?” He stared at her with eyes alight with something Mary could only describe as adoring.

(Y/N) smiled, “Much.” She intertwined their fingers, asking him to join them back towards the castle.

~~~

“I think we have a problem.” Remus saw first, peering down the table at where James and (Y/N) were eating together. “I think our friend is losing sight of the goal.”

Sirius sat begrudgingly beside him, “Doesn’t he realize that every time he looks at Lily, (Y/N) notices?”

Speaking of the redhead, Lily Evans made her way down the aisle of seats to take one beside some other Gryffindors. James flickered his eyes to her before returning them to a suddenly much more sullen (Y/N).

Sirius practically growled into his dinner, “If he actually cared about (Y/N), he’d spare her feelings and go for Evans.”

Remus didn’t dare remark how at the beginning of the school year the pair of them were both ignoring (Y/N)’s feelings for a petty competition.

“Don’t be mean, Padfoot,” Peter whispered across the platters, “Just because they’ve kissed…”

He didn’t want the reminder. His fist clenched involuntarily beneath the table. “I can’t believe I’m losing. There’s no way he wants her more than I do.”

Perhaps he meant to say it just to himself, but it was loud enough for Remus to hear. The scarred boy felt sympathetic, looking to Sirius with a wary glance.

“Do you mean that?” Maybe he could give Sirius a much needed epiphany. “You want her?”

There was a silence as Sirius pounded away at his feelings. He felt them creeping up on him – making his heart race, his lungs constrict, his palms sweaty. He never used to feel that way. He was afraid to feel that way.

But he had tried to deny them for months now. After the mistletoe incident during Christmas, he had seemed to lose much of his persistence. His resolve was that he wanted (Y/N). Wanted her badly. But James had gotten there first.

Stupid, wonderful James. Of course she’d go for him.

Sirius looked at his best friend and knew he couldn’t ruin it for him. James deserved to be happy. Sirius couldn’t be selfish. As much as it now pained Sirius to see them together, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he stole (Y/N) right from under James.

But what if she came willingly?

Oh, shut up.

Sirius had simply given up trying to win (Y/N)’s affections. At this point, he was just waiting for the final verdict. He still spent as much time as he could with her without breaking his heart. He just knew that she preferred spending that time with James.

And he was okay with that…

He was learning to be okay with that.

Remus caught himself falling into a pained grimace as he watched the rainbow of emotion reflect in Sirius’ face.

His friend was suffering while the other prospered. “You don’t have to answer. I’ve known it for a while now.”

Sirius swallowed hard, flexing his fists on his knees. “I think we have to give her the ultimatum soon. The Easter holidays are next week – we could give her till after. She could have the whole break to think about it. James and I are staying here anyways, it’ll be perfect.”

Remus still looked at him skeptically, “I should’ve stopped this bet before it got so serious.” They didn’t say anything, and Remus continued, “I think you both didn’t expect to fall for her so easily.”

“She’s easy to love.”

Remus tried not to have such a noticeable reaction. He knew the slightest hint towards that conversation would scare Sirius right off. “Maybe you should talk to her.” He pointed towards the couple rising from their seats, James kissing the back of (Y/N)’s hand.

Sirius didn’t respond as James came waltzing back towards them. He didn’t even see the still sullen look on (Y/N)’s face as she retreated.

“Evening, boys,” James mused, “I would like to say that I’m feeling rather good about my prospects. I do believe I’m going to win this bet.”

Sirius felt his hands shake, “And once you do, are you going back to Evans?”

“Sorry?” James wiped the smirk from his face.

“That was the point, wasn’t it? Get the rebound to make Lily jealous.”

James paused to think of a proper response, “Sure, to make Lily jealous, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go for her again.”

A slow nod, “So you’re planning on going steady with (Y/N).”

Remus flickered his eyes between his two friends, he tried to interpret the look on James’ face. Did he realize what these words were doing to Sirius?

“If she’ll have me, yeah.”

Sirius had to rise from his seat after that. “Excuse me.”

He sped down the aisle of seats, heart beating rapidly beneath his burning chest. There was only one face he wanted to see, one that he wanted to hold. It was almost involuntary how fast he scoured the corridors outside the Great Hall. All he knew was that he wanted to see her. He wanted to tell her, show her.

And there she was continuing her retreat back to her common room.

“(Y/N)!” he sped ever quicker, a painful throb echoing in his chest. He noticed her slow her steps, but not turn to look at him. “What’s going on?”

He was met with a distressed look on her face, “Hello, Sirius.”

“Are you all right?”

There was a flicker of a smile gracing her features, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me,” he stated, staring into her downtrodden eyes.

“I don’t know what to do.” When she met his gaze it was like fire. “I – I don’t understand how I can choose.”

Sirius had an inkling about what she was referring too. As always he kept a respectable distance, not wishing to overwhelm her, though the burning in his chest tried to will him to hold her.

“Choose?”

“I’ve noticed James sort of pining over Lily. And when he does it makes me sad. Like I’m not the only girl for him.”

You’re the only girl for me.

“But when it’s just us two it’s like nothing else matters. I really do like him – but he’s not the only one on my mind.”

Sirius swallowed hard, “Yes?”

She stared up at him, guilt plainly visible. “But I don’t exactly know how he feels.” She remembered the way Sirius had held her face back when she tumbled off the owlery tower. The thought made her cheeks redden.

Sirius noticed, feeling that familiar churning in his stomach, something he usually fought against. But his hand betrayed him, reaching out to graze her blush with just his fingertips. His head yelled at him to stop, but his heart yearned to go further.

“And if you knew, it would help?”

“The plainer the better.” Her breathing hitched at the way his gaze melted into hers.

And then he was just inches away, his breath just as unsteady as hers against her lips. The fire seared through them as they connected, (Y/N) going limp but Sirius clamping his hands on either side of her face.

Every ounce of him screamed of desperation, of a longing for this moment. It was making (Y/N) dizzy, her lungs momentarily forgetting how to work. Sirius pulled away, catching his breath and leaning his forehead against hers.

“Does that tell you plain enough?”

She shivered at his whisper, “In the only way you can tell it. That’s always been you, Sirius – few words, full action.” She caught herself smiling but being confused at the contorted look on his face.

“You should take the Easter holidays. Think it through.” He finally backed away, though his hands held onto her for a fraction of a second longer, “We’ll respect your decision, no matter what it is.”

And unable to stand her gaze any longer, he ran off to the solitude of the Black Lake.

~~~

Peter shuffled uncomfortably at the Hogsmeade train station, Remus steady at his side. Steady, but concentrating on calming his nerves.

“How long does it take to get off the train?”

Remus sighed, “She’s probably getting every free second she can before facing us.”

The two of them were instructed to escort (Y/N) back to the castle, both James and Sirius agreeing the coming conversation would be handled better nearer to their dormitories.

James was afraid (Y/N) would pull a fast one and choose Sirius, even though they had a more intimate relationship.

Sirius was afraid that (Y/N) would pick James regardless of his moment of vulnerability with her. He couldn’t help but convince himself that she would want someone more apt at demonstrating public displays of affection.

Therefore, the duty was laid to Remus and Peter, the two that would ensure her safety and counsel her where it was needed.

Remus was collecting his thoughts as she quietly stepped off the train and onto the platform. He quickly offered to carry her trunk to the nearest carriage, “(Y/N)! How was your holiday?”

She gave a heavier sigh than expected, “Not long enough.”

Peter tip toed around to give her a hug, “We missed you. All of us.”

She tried to hold back a grimace, but followed them to the carriage, “They haven’t been giving you grief, have they?” There was a pause that confirmed her suspicions, “Of course they would be.”

“They’re anxious to see you,” Remus stated, sitting beside Peter, “They’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sirius more depressed. And James has dug an imprint in the rug from all his pacing,” Peter prattled, not taking much heed to his words. “It’s been a long week for them as well.”

(Y/N) frowned, “Yeah, I’ve been much the same. Thank you – for meeting me.”

The ride back up to the castle was mostly silent, Peter squirming and Remus remaining rigid. (Y/N) could feel them both wondering the same thing: what was her decision? It sent more anxiety flooding threw her at the thought.

Peter appeared to be getting at his wits end as the school loomed every closer, “(Y/N)… can I ask?”

“Hmm?”

He swallowed, “Who won?”

That took her aback. What an odd way to phrase it. “Won?” Remus attempted to subtly nudge his friend a warning, but (Y/N) quickly caught it. “You mean won my affections? Who beat the other? How silly – you make it sound like a competition.”

She smiled but felt a wave of paralysis at the stony response from the other two. Peter looked absolutely petrified as Remus seemed to collect himself quicker.

“Yes, a very silly way to put it. He meant, who did you choose? Of course.”

“Are you…” she peered at them, her mind overworking. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, not at all,” Remus said all too quickly, “We’re just looking out for our friends.”

(Y/N) seemed more and more skeptical. The way these two were sitting uncomfortably put her on edge. There was clearly something going on and she knew exactly who to target for further questioning.

“Peter?”

The small blonde boy widened his eyes in fear, knowing his own resolve will be corrupted immediately. Remus seemed to think this too, closing his eyes to hide his exhausted defeat.

“What are you hiding? Has it got something to do with James and Sirius?”

Peter felt his own head nod without consent from his mind. He also felt a second jab to the ribs from Remus.

“Well, what is it?” She felt her heart beat faster. She knew it had something to do with what she said before. “Is… does it have to do with some competition?”

Peter turned towards his taller friend with a pleading look, very quietly saying, “It was a kind of competition.”

~~~

James and Sirius waited in the grounds near the pumpkin patch that was now filled with spring weeds and flowers.

A new imprint in the dirt spoke of James’ pacing, his hands being wrung before him. He kept straightening his hair to no avail, his skewed glasses falling farther and farther down his nose. He couldn’t understand how Sirius could stand so still near him.

Sirius was a statue, the only evidence of life being the quickened pulse and strenuous breaths working his lungs. He was determined not to show his reaction to her picking James. He was practicing now – practicing in keeping his composure.

It got harder as he saw students begin to flood the school gates. He watched James pause his frantic steps, straining to find their friends. Sirius refrained from doing it too, knowing that if he let himself he would begin to unravel.

James clutched his fidgeting hands together, spotting (Y/N), Remus, and Peter near the back of the crowd. A grin split his features and he bounced on his toes, “There they are!”

The two of them had hardly spoken a word all week, each wondering how their friendship would be after one of them was chosen. It was still hard to feel that the ‘best man should win,’ when each hoped that they’d be picked.

Sirius peered at the three figures making their way towards them across the grounds. Remus and Peter seemed less eager to reach them, carrying a trunk and keeping their heads down. (Y/N), on the other hand, was determinedly marching her way over.

It was plain to see that those steps were fueled with a kind of vigor. A kind of anger. And it seemed like James was beginning to recognize it too. He retreated a few steps to stand beside Sirius.

“Does she look upset to you?”

“It looks like she’s crying,” Sirius muttered. He could feel himself beginning to snap and unravel against his better judgement.

And the closer she got, the truer the assessment was. Her face was blotched and twisted in a kind of fury, one that made her breaths come out in sputters.

“You…” her voice was weak and betrayed.

And both boys had an idea on what was happening, though neither wanted to admit it. James craned his neck to see the ashamed looks on Remus and Peter’s faces.

“Now, (Y/N),” he stated, his anxious excitement plummeting to fear. “I don’t know what you heard…”

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. What little hope he was experiencing distinguished in an instant.

(Y/N) finally reached them, raising her hand and giving an almighty smack across James’ cheek. She stumbled backward and looked ready to deliver another to Sirius.

James staggered, holding his face, absolutely stunned. But Sirius straightened out, knowing that he deserved it. But (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to do it again; she resorted to shoving Sirius away, hitting and pounding at his chest where she could.

“You… complete… arrogant… selfish… FUCKS!”

Cracks appeared in Sirius’ heart, his shoulders sinking to block her blows but not to stop her. She fumed, using her full force to push him away and retreat a few steps.

“A bloody COMPETITION? I suppose it was all some grand joke to you two.” She was sobbing now, fresh tears streaming down her already puffy cheeks. “Let’s see if we can get the stupid, naïve girl to fall in love with us – was that it?”

She paused for only a second, not wishing for a response just now, “I should have seen something what with the both of you wanting to suddenly be best friends with me out of the blue – and at the exact same time!” She ran her fingers harshly into her hair, “And it was all a LIE.”

Sirius started to shake his head, but James beat him to the first spoken word, “It’s not like that, (Y/N), not anymore.”

“Not ANYMORE?”

“Honest,” James tried to continue, “At first it was just to see who’d you like more. And now we – we both – feel very, very different.”

(Y/N) had her hands on her hips, not even bothering to wipe away her tears. “And that’s supposed to redeem the fact you did it in the first place?”

“No! Of course not, it’s just…” he looked towards the paralyzed Sirius, “You need to know that regardless of the intentions, we’ve both developed very real feelings for you.”

“Real enough to forget about Lily Evans?” she practically shrieked, “Did the rebound work for you?”

James stuttered, unable to form a worthy enough response. But (Y/N) didn’t need it, the look on his face was good enough. She instead rounded on Sirius, “And you.”

He set his jaw but blinked a few times. The burning, yearning in his chest was now aching – destroying him from the inside out.

“I suppose you think it’s funny trying to kill me to get my attention.”

The air left his lungs, “I… I never – I could never – find that funny.” But the hatred in her eyes was so real he thought nothing he said would take it away. It made him want to cower. “It was foolish and accidental how you fell. It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

But she didn’t want to hear it. How he wished he could wipe her face clear, to kiss the pain away.

James outstretched a hand, “Please, (Y/N) – let’s go sit and talk. Allow us to apologize.”

She immediately started to shake her head, “I don’t need an apology. I couldn’t trust it anyway. I just wanted to see the look on your faces when I told you my decision. That I’ve made my choice.” She contorted her face into an unflattering sneer, “That neither of you get to win.”

She retreater farther, edging towards the castle, “Don’t you dare speak to me. Don’t you dare look at me. From this day on, you don’t exist in my mind. And you’re going to keep it that way.”

James took a hesitant step towards her but knew it was too late. She was stumbling away, uneasy on her exhausted feet. He felt his own eyes burning, not realizing that tears were flooding them. He let out a breath that stuttered and whimpered.

Sirius thought he could describe without a doubt the feeling of your heart being torn from your chest. He was beyond tears, beyond regret. There was no way he could recover from the despair that now encumbered him. He turned to the pained looks of Remus and Peter.

He saw their lips moving but could hear no noise. He found he couldn’t catch his breath.

This quite possibly could be the biggest mistake that either of them will make in their entire lives.

~~~

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[justalotrgeek]

Let’s talk about Boromir...

So... Boromir... everyone kind of hates him at one point or another. But as you grow older, you start to realize... Boromir deserved better. And he’s pretty awesome. And pretty relatable.

Like, yeah, he comes across as this high-and-mighty-”Gondor-needs-no-King” buddy, but he’s, like, so pure?

His whole motivation for trying to take the Ring from Frodo (big mistake, one that could have cost the entire world) was not greed, but something more along the lines of why Sam DID take the Ring, or wanted to in the first place. Both of them wanted to be heros, yes, but the root of that was love for their people, for their plants, for what they know and love.

And let’s be honest, the Ring wasn’t helping one bit. Boromir felt alone the whole time he was with the Fellowship, let’s be real. He’s the one on the front lines of a war. He’s the one that’s a Captain-General (correct me if I’m wrong there). He has a little brother to worry about, a father who is giving into despair, and his mother died when he was little. He is looked up to by commoners and soldiers alike, a beacon of hope in a rapidly darkening world. He is in line for a Stewardship that he probably doesn’t want. He’s seen so much in his short 41 years.

Boromir journeys alone for 110 days, most on foot because he loses his horse, from Gondor to Rivendell. Upon arriving, he finds himself alone in the knowledge of the horrors of war. Rivendell is the last safe haven, and is filled with immortal elves who are wearying from the woes of the world. Mirkwood could not care less (except for Legolas, I guess) about the fate of the world as they are more worried about themselves. The hobbits, bless their hearts, do not know fear or pain or sorrow quite like Men do. The dwarves are stubborn and slow to trust those they do not know, let alone elves. Gandalf is mysterious and makes little sense most of the time, as he is also immortal and wise beyond the understanding of many. And Aragorn...

Well, having Aragorn introduced second-hand as the King of Gondor -- Gondor, who has not seen a King since TA 2050 (968 years is a long time, guys); Gondor, who had struggled alone; Gondor, who was losing hope, Gondor, who had only Steward-kings to look to since the line of Anárion and Isildur -- did not help in the slightest. Here is this rugged, silent man, and he is the supposed heir of Isildur, the one who will lead them to victory? All Boromir knows is that he was not there when they needed him. Boromir believes he has no knowledge of politics (which is more of his brother’s strong suit than his own, but he knows enough).

The Ring of Power is filled with malice, hate, and distrust. Every. Single. One. Of the Fellowship was struggling with the Ring weighing down on their minds. Every. One. Even the hobbits, whose connection with the power of Yavanna and nature protects them and warns them against evil, even the elves, the Eldar, the First Children of Eru, who flinch at evil, even the dwarves, who are firm and steadfast in truth as is their right because of Aüle, even Gandalf, who is Old, who is a servant of the Valar -- all of them feel it. And Men are the most susceptible.

The Ring sees their hearts, knows their situations, their love, their fear, and it does what it does best. It twists and turns and warps the truth until the Ring is the only solution. In our own lives, we grapple with good and evil, and sometimes the evil makes the good look bad. Boromir is no different than the rest of us. In his love for Gondor, his fear for Gondor, the Ring finds hold. And it grows and grows because Boromir is human. He does not see until it is too late what power the Ring has over him.

But Boromir does something few of us ever would. Even in his despair, his grief, his feelings of worthlessness and helplessness because he let the Ringbearer go, he attacked Frodo, he does not know, does not know, and it hurts; his guilt weighs him down, but he gets up and goes after the hobbits. He gets up and fights and fights and fights. And when Aragorn finds him, surrounded by dead orcs, barely breathing, Boromir apologizes once more, he tells Aragorn what happened to Merry and Pippin (saving their lives, I might add, and giving the broken Fellowship a reminder and a purpose), and apologizes again, saying he has failed.

Most of us would have given up hope because we made such an astronomical mistake. We would have believed, like Boromir, that there would be no redemption for us. Yet Boromir still keeps trying.

He knows in his heart that what he has done is unforgivable, that he if the quest fails it is his fault. But he gets up and tries to do what little he can to make it right. And in his eyes, it is not enough.

But Boromir’s actions redeem him, though he does not live to see it. Merry and Pippin live. Sam, Frodo, and Gollum destroy the Ring (and they all fail). Aragorn is crowned King, and the three remaining hunters are bonded for life. Middle Earth, Gondor, his home, his people, are all saved because of Boromir. And Pippin’s life, saved by Boromir’s actions, goes on to save Faramir, his little brother, who he loved more than the world.

Boromir should have lived. He should have been able to see the fulfillment of his redemption, a chance to see that it is okay, that he didn’t need feel guilty for so long, that he is loved worth every tear we shed for him. He, like us, fails. Really, each one of the characters in The Lord of the Rings fails. Some are redeemed at long last, some are redeemed through death, and some never find redemption or closure in their life time, or even at all.

But the lesson Boromir teaches us is to keep trying. Even when hope seems to be gone, even when you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, even when life does not make sense and what you have been asked to do seems impossible, you keep trying.

And in the end, though you may not live to see it, hope blossoms and blooms and light returns.

Your efforts are worth it. They are always worth it.

[btsandvmin]

A personal dilemma

I feel like I have to explain properly why I have reacted the way I did and why the asks about me not doing videos for Vmin affected me so much. I am sorry for dwelling on this subject so much but it is something that is important to me and effect what I do and how I do it a lot.

This post is a bit confused and I might also come across both as a hypocrite and as "high and mighty". But I believe every person has a responsibility for what they do no matter how small the effect. And I need to get this off my chest. This is a conflict within me that I don't have an answer to yet.

For the last few days I've seriously considered if I should continue with writing analysis for Vmin or not. Because at the end of the day I know what I do have a sort of snowball effect that is out of my control. So asking me to not do videos in worry about Vminies getting delusional faster or me being seen as a analysis maker more similar to some ji/kookers or tar/kookers like tkk/lives made me wonder not only if putting out videos was something that bring more bad than good, but if making any analyses at all was something that brought more bad than good.

Even if I try hard to stay away from sounding delusional and to warn my readers of the problems with believing the things I point out and the narratives I share might still lead to more confidence in Vmin being superior or real. Even if it's not my intention I can't control what people do after reading or watching my material.

Thus if creating leads to more bad for both the Vmin community and perhaps in the long run even Vmin... How can I in good conscience keep doing it?

I always believed and hoped that my way of writing, and of being open and transparent with the problems with shipping analysis would rather at least to some extent halt the ones reading and understanding my stance from turning delusional or over confident etc. That I could be clear about the difference between facts, theories and narrative and make others aware too.

When I started this blog I was just shipping happily and reblogged others posts. Until the "you can't ship Vmin they are friends" issue bothered me enough to write about it so I wrote "The “bromance” issue". Then I kept making material to show why Vmin is just as good and easy to ship romantically as any other ship. Thus my 10 reasons to ship posts etc.

The first time I truly got into analysing territory was with my first song analysis. And even then it was just a feeling that the songs could match and speculation mostly for fun. Vmin kept doing things, and yet I saw a lot of people get angry or defensive just for shipping Vmin. For example as 4 o'clock came out and Vminies got attacked for "making it about Vmin". Already feeling like Vmin's songs kind of fit together, and how other shippers tried to make the songs about their own ships (including 4 o'clock) I started to look closer at various ship analyses and seeing the lack of Vmin analyses compared to other maknae ships made me feel like people just zoomed in on their own ship and ignored everyone else. I couldn't help but want to add my own Vmin interpretations. I wanted to add a Vmin perspective as a sort of counter weight. Especially since I felt the things I saw had more to them than similar theories from other ships. For example the songs, being soulmates, using army as a substitute for each other or my own version of Vlive analysis, which was that Vmin seemed to avoid it rather than them hiding in each other's room. Other ships had these theories, despite Vmin having at least some of these things confirmed. So in a way, the soulmate claim and 4 o'clock was my starting point to look at Vmin in a different way and a bit after that I started making analyses.

It felt weird to see all of these things go ignored when other ship communities made their followers believe in the relationships with a lot less than I felt Vmin had. I never got confident that Vmin was real and I still think the odds of any ship being real aren't that big. But I did feel like many people completely ignored Vmin both as soulmates and as a ship.

So, while asking my fellow Vminies to be careful with believing I kept looking at Vmin and added my biased theories to show it could very much be done with Vmin as well. I never wanted to make people delusional, but having been in many fandoms before I also knew that with size that is something that can't be avoided. I saw that as BTS kept growing and as big Vmin moments happened, that more and more people shipped them. It made me happy. But I also knew it would mean more and more would eventually start to question Vmin the way other ships got questioned. I really think it's something that happens eventually with enough of a following. There are so many ships in Kpop that people believe in and try to prove, it definitely wasn't exclusive to BTS. (You can even look outside Kpop at things like the Sherlock or Supernatural or even Hunger Games fandoms where many speculated that the actors weren't just close, they were romantically involved.)

I wanted to talk about Vmin, but I didn't want to be one of those that told people what to think and to believe me no matter what. I wanted peope to question without "knowing" what the truth was. I was hoping to bring something different than just the safe "this is just my thoughts and you can take it or leave it" disclaimers. I wanted to explain the problems and to remind ourselves (me included) that shipping is something that can easily turn into more if you don't actively remind yourself that we actually don't know the truth. We have narratives that seem to make sense, but so does other shippers... So for many of these belivers it is impossible to be right. Not everyone can be right about their "truth", if anyone, since they go against each other. If Vmin turn out to not be together I do not want to be the one responsible for people believing they were real, only to get hurt when they aren't.

This is something I've always felt, and as I kept writing analysis I always wondered if I really should. Especially since I saw some Vminies get inspired by me or even taking some of my theories and run with them as facts rather than the theories they were. I put things out there, moments and ideas. A narrative for Vmin. And I saw others adapt them and go further with them. I wasn't sure how to feel as I realized my blog perhaps contributed to Vminies feeling more suspicious and slowly more confident in Vmin being more real than other ships.

Even if it was my goal to make people look at Vmin, I guess with all the things Vmin did it all started to feel more "real" for me too. So many of my theories seemed to work and even get proven or added new material. The songs kept coming and Vmin kept being Vmin. But I also knew this exact thing happend with ji/kookers after G.C.F came out. New material that "confirmed" their beliefs and in turn allowed them to become more confident in being right. So I kept reminding myself not to get swept away, because in the end I don't think no matter how much we have gotten, that it has to prove anything besides how much Vmin mean to each other. Romantic or platonic truly doesn't matter.

Another thing that makes a difference to me is also the way I view the different ships if they would actually be real. For example watching ji/kook and ji/kook theories it seems pretty clear they don't mind people shipping them or seeing things between them. I've never seen Jimin be careful, but instead rather bold and almost pushy, with moments with JK. If Ji/kook is together their shippers too believe that they want people to know. With Vmin I saw it a bit differently... I've seen Jimin be careful with how he and Tae comes across since 2014. Why I don't know. But if we imagine there to actually be something between Vmin, then it doesn't seem like it's something Jimin wants us to know. Taehyung is a bit bolder, but either way the "narrative" I see for Vmin if they would be real is that they are careful with getting exposed. Thus there is also that factor to consider when writing theories about them. If Vmin would be real somehow, and they don't want to be "exposed" how is what I do the right thing?

I have had a post in my drafts for a while and I wanted to add it here in case you are interested. After all, this isn't something new that came after the video asks, but rather something I've always questioned. Which is why it really got to me when I got asked to stop doing something for the sake of the community, myself and Vmin.

This is something I wrote a while ago and I decided not to post at the time. I hope you will understand my feelings a little bit better after reading all of this.

I hope you understand where I am coming from and excuse me for generalizing and speaking about the Vmin (and other ships) community as if it's one big force and not many individuals.

***

Now, I have debated for a long time if I should talk about this at all and basically take a stance in a way I would prefer not to. I know I will lose followers over this, and that's ok. I can't force anyone to listen. But with the way I see the Vmin community grow I also see the confidence in Vmin being real grow. It's natural and happens with all ships eventually, but I still hope Vminies can look at shippers from other communities and realize the same kind of reasoning applies to us all.

I get more messages that sound borderline delusional now than ever.

I always suspected we would reach this point, because again, as things get more normalized and ok to talk about the bolder statements and theories will become. It literally happens with all ships, slowly at first and then gradually worse and worse until you reach truly delusional levels where Big Hit are playing up other relationships to hide the truth or trying to create a glass closet for another ship and where every choice and action has a possible agenda. I don't think Vminies will get worse than other ships that are much bigger and bolder. But I do think we have already changed a lot in the last year. Even looking at my own posts I seem to have at some point escalated from "Vmin seem to have these push and pull moments" to "Vmin's push and pull" if you see the difference. It might be small, but it definitely matters in how my views comes across.

When I write I do try to present facts and then speak carefully and not confidently about narratives or meanings. If we take my song analysis for example I think there is a substantial amount of things even when just looking at facts. But, saying what those facts might mean will in the end always remain a biased guess. Especially since other shippers have their similar theories as well that they believe in 100%. I mean, I could make a case for Tae and Hobi's songs being connected as well. I've seen analysis like this from all shippers at this point, and I can't dismiss them anymore than they can dismiss mine. (As long as they keep to facts.)

I am careful, and even then I see some of my theories being talked about as fact, or att least very close to facts.

From what I have seen I have moments between Vmin I have notcied and shared that haven’t been picked up on before I did it. I still have some things like this I haven’t shared at all, simply because I think fans would run with them and become more delusional simply by knowing about them.

Sadly, the way things are going I feel uncertain if I should share more of these things at all. I don’t want to have to go around and debunk Vmin moments or urge people to watch other ships, because in the end every person has the right to enjoy a ship in their own way. But I do think confidence is dangerous no matter how good moments we get.

Ji/kookers got a lot worse after GCF Tokyo and started to talk about how Big Hit might be working towards a glass closet. And that might sound ridiculous, but I have seen Vminies say the same with the way Vmin has been "shown" as Friends came out and other pretty good Vmin moments from the last year. The question of "Do you think something is up with Vmin?" or "Do you think they are planning something based on the amount of moments we get?" are questions I have gotten many times.

You might think I am being too careful, but because I have been in many fandoms in a period of over 15 years I literally see the same development happen for all different kinds of shipping communities. Real and fictional. Where the fans get more and more confident as the groups gets bigger. It’s a gradual change towards feelings certain and allowing more logical leaps to fill the gaps, but it will get faster and faster once it starts.

I don’t want Vminies to get more and more similar to how many ji/kookers and tae/kookers act and think. Where we find suspicion in everything and allow ourselves to feel confident. (Or worried whenever something goes against that belief.)

I might sound a hypocrite considering I do write analysis on Vmin, but I am sorry to say, the way things are going maybe I shouldn’t anymore.

Every ship in BTS have moments, and every ship in BTS even have believers who truly KNOWS their ship is real. I often used to get the question “do you know this or that about this other ship” and “if you only looked at and knew about xxx you wouldn’t ship Vmin” etc. And honestly, they have a point. Only I think it works both ways for all shippers. We all mostly look at our own ship and have our own narratives and reasons to think they make the most sense. But as soon as we allow narratives to sound like the only or most logical explenation we have lost a big part of our ability to question others and ourselves. That's why I wanted to add the Vmin narrative in the sea of ji/kook and tae/kook theories.

Recently I posted Can shipping turn into conspiracy theories? and part of the reason I did so was because I have seen an increased tendency in the Vmin community to walk this thin line between shipping and belief.

I feel very conflicted honestly. I want our community to try and stay away from being sure, no matter how compelling the arguments. Again, I have literal hundreds of pages about Vmin being weird or doing things I think make them the most likely to be real in some form when looking at BTS.

AND I AM STILL NOT GOING TO BE CONVINCED.

I have followed another group where members kiss when drunk and talk like they ship each other and even if a ship might seem real there is just too much we don't know. And a lot about other ships we decide to ignore or don't know. I have been accussed of being a ji/kooker because I won't say ji/kook being real is impossible. But how can l? How would me saying ji/kook can't be real be any different to the aggressive ji/kookers who has come to me to say "Vmin is cute but ji/kook is real".

Of course every person might have their own level of what might convince them, but we also know that literally millions of other people are convinced of completely different things with incredible certainty.

I don't want to be scared to put my theories out there so they can be taken as facts.

I have said it before, and I know shippers are drawn to confidence, but that's the exact reason to why I choose not to be confident even though it gets me more hate and less followers.

***

So this is what I wrote a while ago... And hearing people worry about what might happen if I start making videos just made these thoughts resurface. Especially since I didn't feel that video was very analytical, but it still likely would make people notice Vmin in a "what if they are real" way. Again, I use moments that exists, but I also add them in a different context, with a Vmin narrative. If what I write or make seems legit and makes sense then my tone of being careful might not matter. People will get exposed to moments and ideas I highlight and then take them further. That's why I hesitate.

I don't think I am big or influential enough to do much, but just doing 'a little' shouldn't excuse it if it in the end leads to something bad, more than it leads to something good. That's why adding YouTube as a platform doesn't make much of a difference in my mind if I still do what I do here. Sure YouTube is bigger and things get spread faster... But I write much more analytical and questionable things here than I did in that video, and even if it gets spread slower and to less people isn't what I do here in a sense then worse?

If me making videos makes some of you nervous (which I understand and relate to) then what will it lead to if I post basically a book on everything weird I've seen and thought in regards to Vmin?

I want to feel like I add more good to the community than I bring bad. I always thought I was doing the former as I tried to make my followers feel open minded rather than convinced. Now I don't know where I stand anymore and so I feel even more unsure of what to do.

Maybe I should have kept this all to myself and not vented out my worries to you. But I take this rather seriously and while I love what I do and love being part of the Vmin community I am feeling conflicted and I felt like sharing why might be good for me.

I know this was long and I applaude you if you managed to read through it all. I am truly so happy to have gotten so many nice and understanding and kind messages from you all. And many of you even saying you are happy you came across my blog and that I brought a new perspective, made you more open minded or even kept you from turning delusional. It makes me feel like I at least did some things right. I purple you all. 💜

[krillin-fanfic]

Identity In Ink

Welp, I did a thing! Probably one of only two I’ll be able to do this month, but I DID IT! This one’s for the “Tattoo” prompt, and mostly 18-focused and a shortie, but it’s a concept I’ve discussed with people in the past: Basically, did Gero ever do anything to mark his creations, and if so, how would they deal with that. And this one just kinda flowed out. Feel free to show some love or leave feedback in the links too! FF.net link AO3 link Without further ado, here we go.

Sometimes, she couldn't help but let it bother her.

It was a small thing. Something hidden away, beneath clothing, able to be put out of sight, and thus out of mind. But since she'd moved here... since she'd spent more time with her husband on the beach... it was becoming harder to ignore.

"Hmm.." 18 stood in front of the bedroom mirror, her pajama shorts pulled down a bit as she gazed at her hip, fingers idly tracing the object of her discomfort. There, on her left hip, was a small tattoo of the Red Ribbon logo.

It really shouldn't have bothered her, she knew; she'd made her peace with that part of her life a couple of years ago, around the same time she'd finally allowed herself to accept she'd had feelings for her best friend. But still, it reminded her of a time when she hadn't been so free. Reminded her that everything she used to be had been stolen away from her. Reminded her of that twisted old man and his "experiments"...

"Hey babe, you ok?"

18 inhaled sharply and let go of the shorts, the elastic snapping back against her as she spun to face her questioner, her expression cool as ice. "Do I look like I'm in trouble, dear?"

Krillin frowned, tugging at the loose shirt that served as his pajama top. "Well... yes, honestly. You can fool a lot of other folks, 18, but I know when something's bothering you." He pointed at the mirror behind her. "Plus I kinda caught you staring at that for a while."

18 closed her icy blue eyes and exhaled sharply through her nose. "Picking up habits from the old man again, are we?"

"Hey now, come on," he protested. "You're my wife and the mother of my child, who is finally asleep, might I add. But I'm allowed to look in our bedroom."

18 crossed her arms and huffed. "Peeping tom."

Krillin laughed as he noticed the faintest hint of a smile on his wife's lips. "Okay, okay, my bad." He threw his hands up in mock despair. "Spare me, oh mighty goddess of Kame Island."

She opened one eye and peered at him. "Hmm... offer me tribute and I'll consider it."

Krillin took a step forward and stood on his tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Is that better, mistress?"

18 felt her face flush. "N-no... not good enough." Her blush deepened as she felt his hand cup her cheek and bring her face to meet his, her heart skipping a beat as he began to place feather-soft kisses on her lips. She loved this feeling. It was almost enough to make her forget-

She broke off the kisses and sighed deeply again. "Okay... okay yeah, there is something that's been bothering me."

"Ahhh, I figured." He took her hand in his. "What's bugging you, hon? Is it that... mark again?"

She nodded. "Mhm. Just seems so dumb. I know that's not who I am, I know I'm more than that, but sometimes when I see it, it just reminds me of before. Back when I really thought I'd lost my humanity. When I thought it was too late."

Krillin frowned. "Babe, if it bothers you that much, we can try to do something about it." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "We can always see about getting it removed."

18 snorted. "Like we can afford that? Those procedures aren't cheap, you know. Besides, I doubt there are any places that do that who have a laser remotely strong enough to work on my skin."

Krillin shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose." He rubbed his chin for a moment. "Have you considered covering it up with something else, then?"

18 rubbed her forehead. "Maybe... I dunno. I'm not sure what I'd put there even if I could, really." She sat silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "I think... I think I'm gonna go check on Marron real quick." She gave her husband a pat on the head as she headed out the door. "Back in a sec."

She tiptoed across the hall to her daughter's room, the door now adorned with letters spelling out the little one's name, turning the knob as quietly as she could. She only opened it wide enough to slip in, and shut the door behind her; no sense risking her baby girl waking up when she could see just fine in the dark, after all. She took the final two steps to the crib nestled in the middle of the room and smiled.

There lay her baby girl, sound asleep. Her blonde curls splayed out on her pillow, her tiny fist balled up on her chubby little cheek, little noseless face the picture of angelic calm as her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath. 18 reached out and brushed her other cheek softly, and sighed with content.

Little Marron had only recently reached an age where they'd felt comfortable letting her have her own room, and even then it was reluctantly. But between needing a larger crib, and frankly no small amount of frustration, they'd decided it was time. Little Marron hadn't initially been a fan, being quite fussy the first few nights; her father had been as well, and 18 rather appreciated the irony of her husband wanting a return to their intimacy yet also being grumpy about not having Marron with them. She understood though. Marron was one of the only two people whose mere presence seemed to have a calming effect on her. She could be in the worst of moods, but the moment that baby girl cooed at her, it all seemed to drift away as she got lost in those big dark eyes.

18 rested her cheek on her arm as she watched her baby sleep. Her baby. The idea had felt so impossible not so long ago. She'd been sure, positive, that all the alterations to her body would have made her unable to conceive. Gero hadn't seemed the type to leave behind anything that didn't fit his uses, after all. And it's not as if she and Krillin had bothered with precautions for well over a year without consequence. 18 allowed herself an admittedly lecherous smirk at the memories.

But then, one day, it'd happened. The news had shocked both of them, and been a source of both happiness and fear for them as well. But the moment their little bundle of love had come into the world, all that fear seemed to vanish in an instant. She's been so very small, with her mother's soft blonde hair and her father's eyes and features. There was no doubt she was theirs, and Krillin opined that she was the physical manifestation of their love. She'd initially snorted derisively and called him sappy, but as she held their little bundle, she couldn't help but quietly agree.

The tiny form in front of her stretched and yawned, and her heart melted. She was so sweet and innocent... so much so that 18 could find it hard to believe she came from her. She'd been meant to be an assassin, a killer, but now all she wanted was to protect this little angel. 18 smiled and leaned down, placing a feather-soft kiss on her baby's head before quietly opening the door backing out into the hall, gently shutting it behind her.

"She really is amazing, huh?" 18 stiffened and turned to see Krillin leaning against their doorway, grinning.

"Amazing is an understatement. Sometimes I still can't believe that we... that I-"

Krillin straightened and stepped toward her, shushing her. "You best start believing it, 18. She's ours." He took her hand and kissed it softly and smiled as she sighed, contentedly. "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "Feels kinda silly now, letting something like that get to me as much as it did."

He rubbed her back softly. "Nah, it's understandable hon, believe me. So... any ideas on what you might wanna cover that up with?"

18 glanced over at her daughter's door once more. She was her second chance, the ultimate proof of her humanity. The center of her world. Her eyes fell to the plaque on the door, taking in the letters of her daughter's name. 'M-A-R-R...'.

She smiled. "Yeah... I actually do."      ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once 18 had decided on her new design, Krillin had called up Bulma to see is she's had any ideas on how they could get this done; 18's skin was near-unbreakable, after all, and no normal needle was up to the task. Bulma had eagerly agreed to be of assistance and told them to come over the next day.

It had taken a moment for 18 to brace herself, going back into a sterile lab, laying down on a table, but the procedure had been shockingly swift, a matter of minutes, and it was over before she's realized. She handled it well, all things considered, though Krillin's hand was a bit sore by the time it was over. He smiled at her. "See? That wasn't too bad." He leaned over and gently pecked her nose. "I'm proud of you, babe."

18 nodded and hopped off the slab, walking over to the mirror to examine the new ink, as Krillin turned to speak to Bulma.

"Thanks for the assist, Bulma," Krillin said. "This really means a lot."

The blue-haired Capsule Corp heiress brushed her gloves off on her overalls and lifted her face shield. "Oh, no worries. I had a free day today, and I'd been meaning to test this puppy out." She patted the side of the machine. "I got a custom order from a dinosaur rancher asking for something capable of inking numbers into his livestock, but he never showed up with a test subject so I never got to see if it worked. Just a matter of coding in the design and letting the computer do its thing!"

Krillin blinked. "Wait, did you just use my wife as a guinea pig?"

The heiress chuckled and waved him off. "Don't think of it like that. I never would have offered to do this if I wasn't 100% sure it was safe."

"I gotta admit, I never knew there were dinosaur ranchers out there..."

"Oh... yeah." Bulma scratched her cheek. "I mean, there aren't anymore, but..."

He raised his eyebrows. Oh. I...oh."

"Yeeeeah." She laughed nervously. "Turns out there's probably a reason that profession isn't very common, huh?" She glanced over at 18. "So, whaddya think?"

18 gazed at the small tattoo in the mirror. The red ribbon had been altered to resemble a small red butterfly, and letters added in the same font to now read "MARRON". It was a minor change, but it suited her perfectly. Red Ribbon's mark had been a symbol of the humanity stolen from her; this would be a reminder of what had proven to her that they never had.

She felt Krillin's hand slip into hers and smiled, warmly.

"It's perfect."

[criticalroleisdestroyingme]

Oh Death

She said to me

"Oh, Death

Come close my eyes, woah"

I know, I'm more fool than wise

After losing the Mighty Nein in Nicodranas, Astrid and Eadwulf are sent on their next assignment. Tracking a loose end in the Frozen North, they stumble across a few more surprises, and the pieces start to add up.

The aforementioned songfic of "Oh Death" by SUGR?. Canon divergent at the end of C2E131. Written from the perspective of a highly angsty Astrid with plenty of Blumendrei and Shadowgast. Advice for Essek based on this post by @slayerscake.

A note to those who count the words of Sending - I kept it accurate to where Matt took a pause for Astrid’s Sending back to Jester, of 26 and 24.

Read more below!

Oh, when I see her looking at me

You best believe

She's only looking past me

What a mess Bren left behind him before he again vanished to the North. It took a full day for Trent’s ire to settle from a raging forest fire into a controlled burn, sending his operatives to seek out their trail. Curiously, Trent did not allow any others into his vault to pick up any trace of Bren - he must have found the amulets, otherwise the search would have been simple. It didn’t take a spymaster to determine what else Bren must have spirited away to send him on such a determined chase, and Wulf quickly agreed that whether intentional or not, Bren now had in his possession the most damning evidence of the enhancements all Volstrucker wore beneath their skin.

Was this their chance to finally…? Bren hadn’t reacted the way she hoped during their meeting, eyebrows furrowing as she had quietly whispered her seditious musings in his ear. He didn’t trust her, didn’t trust them, of course he shouldn’t, Wulf added. She bitterly hoped their actions in Nicodranas would cement that trust, but maybe Bren no longer operated on their wavelength. He couldn’t, shouldn’t allow himself to trust his compromised classmates, only using them for his ends before moving on to that thing that was so much bigger, so much nobler. His eyes never truly met hers as they waltzed, staring through her skull, focused on his own goals, convinced he would be saving the world. She had shared the contents of the meeting with Wulf, of course, but not that wave of guilt that had surged through her for forcing her ambition onto him, collapsing in the alleyway after leaving the dancehall. He had moved on, had so many bigger things to deal with than the crimes of a single man and petty politics.

After dispatching two agents to the coast to board a ship, she was again summoned to Trent’s side with Wulf. Darktow, really Bren? The ruse had seemed so obvious from their clandestine conversation about his goal, but her master was determined to contain the leak and to Trent, no lead was worth overlooking. Trent had hissed that their next assignment was to pay a visit to that Crick loose end, since they were clearly too compromised to be trusted with more important missions. The traitor’s position was confirmed via scry to be in the heart of Eiselcross - fortuitous to be so near to Bren’s destination. Maybe after they dispatch the Shadowhand, they could seek him again, Wulf suggested, and finalize plans to rid the world of another corrupted mage.

She said to me

"Oh, Death

Come close my eyes, woah"

I know, I'm more fool than wise

Her trail goes cold a few hours after they pass through the mountain range ringing the crash site of Aeor, but they’re nearly to Kryn outpost, which was still the best place to check first. Recent reports indicated the drow was getting twitchy (reasonably so, she thought), so it came as no surprise that he had procured divination wards on his latest visit back to Ghor Dranas. Strange that he had not engaged them until after his position was reconfirmed in the frozen north, and the coincidence tickles the back of her mind. She and Wulf decide to press on towards the outpost regardless - to relay this to Trent before confirming the target’s position by eye would earn them a scathing reply.

Easily obscured by invisibility, they slip past the spires of ice ringing the Xhorhassian outpost once they arrive. After around fifteen minutes, they spot the Shadowhand as he exits his chambers and rushes to the storerooms, reemerging a few minutes later with supplies for travel and a heavier mantle. Good, it should be a simple task to take out him and whatever scouts accompany him, rather than dealing with the entire outpost. He lingers outside his chambers, discussing something with the captain of the guard too quietly to be heard from their position on the outskirts. Wulf creeps forward to listen in as she maintains her position, memorizing the guard patrols out of pure habit. She’s making a mental map of the outpost when a familiar but unexpected voice creeps in.

“It’s me… Jester-” whispers into her mind, followed by… a fit of giggles? “Hey, I don’t know if you’re alone. If.. you’re.. not-” another fit. How did Bren’s companions get anything done? “-and you’re following us…” the longest pause yet. Should she start her reply? What did the woman even want? As she opens her mouth to speak, eyes on the perimeter for any unforeseen patrols, it finally comes in. “Clear your throat,” she chokes out amid giggles, “if you’re not following us.”

“I’m so very…” lost? Disturbed? Overwhelmed by the lack of any meaningful information presented in those twenty-five words? “Confused.” She settles on. “What did you say?” Entertaining further conversation in spite of her location may not have been wise, but she couldn’t help herself, needing to know Bren’s next move.

“Sorry-” Warranted. “I need to know if you’re following us. If you know where we are. What’s the plan with you guys? Hope you’re alone! If you’re not-” the message cuts out. She rubs her temples, considering her response a moment. How to impress upon her the importance of what her party now carried with them, what she wanted them to accomplish? This was going to take more than one message, she thought, pulling her wire free from her components.

“A Volstrucker has never disentangled from Trent before. No one who knows what he does, how he breaks us, has shared their trauma with the world,” effortlessly continuing her response with another Sending, “with the king. Imagine the threat you are to him, now that you carry respect of both Crown and Kryn. So, yes,” she concludes, “he’s invested.” Was it enough? No further response.

“Who was that?” Wulf’s voice shocks her as he returns, still cloaked in his invisibility.

“Bren’s companions. The tiefling.”

“Ah,” he grunts. Lingers in silence for a moment. “Will he…?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. Glad to still be invisible, despite Wulf knowing exactly the look on her face. Probably has the same look on his. Her hand reaches out, contacting his upper arm blindly, then gives it a rub. “Later. Our target?”

“Too far, too quiet. Something about the ruin; an entrance his rangers are guarding.”

“Well then, we will have to make our move during his journey to them,” she replies, not keen on chasing this wizard into the depths of Aeor. A grunt of agreement, and they settle together, crouched on the icy ground, awaiting further movement of the traitor and his forces. A few more minutes and the guard captain nods and walks away, barking orders in Undercommon to his men, and the Shadowhand floats alone outside his door. His hand raises to knock, lowers, raises once more, then softly taps the door before opening it.

“He’s not alone in there,” Wulf interprets easily. She squints her eyes, trying to block the glare of the snow and ice to spot the reason for his hesitation, but the low-lit room gave up no secrets before the door closed behind him. Another minute and the door reopens, and neither Volstrucker notices the Shadowhand’s relaxed shoulders as he drifts out, sucking air through their teeth at the sight of who follows him.

Oh, I- I- I- I- I- I- I never wanted anything as little as I want this now

Oh, I- I- I- I- I take my pistol, gonna make you proud

“We should have known, we should have fucking known-” Wulf spits as they tail the group to the northwest, the pair’s white cloaks obscuring them well at this distance.

“Shh! Let me think.” Her words bite at her own tongue, mind racing. It was so obvious - Bren’s party spent so much time in Xhorhas, were so close to the Bright Queen herself that their word alone was enough to halt a full scale attack on the capital. Of course they would know the Shadowhand, at least know of him, and with their connection in the North from the Empire extinguished, of fucking course they would be allying with the Dynasty once more. The source of the Shadowhand’s protection from divination was now also unfortunately obvious - he had been recruited by the team to go stop the supposed end of the world.

This was going to get messy. It would be impossible to take out the Shadowhand without alerting Bren to their presence. How could they convince Bren to work alongside them to expose Trent if they ended up in battle against him? “Scheiße,” she hissed, Wulf growling in agreement.

She wondered what the Shadowhand would be getting in return for his assistance. Protection from the assassins hot on his trail? Yes, but surely this master manipulator would have gotten more out of the deal than that. The drow had fooled his entire country, betrayed his own religion, just for the sake of some arcane research.

She smirked, jaw clicking into place. That’s it. He’s a traitor to his own nation. Make him confess to it, surely Bren would want him dead as well after learning their ally was a conspirator with the Assembly, had stolen the beacons his group worked so hard to return to the Kryn. They could still make this work, and come out of Eiselcross both having completed their current mission and securing Bren, all of them, as allies in their next.

Wulf growled again, pulling her from her thoughts. Looking back at the Shadowhand, he had fallen in line with Bren and was conversing while they pressed onward, taking comfort in a glowing orb he held outside his mantle. Bren had moved in shoulder to shoulder with the drow, leaning in and wrapping his hand around the drow’s forearm in a supposed bid to get closer to the source of light. His group carried on ahead of them, saying nothing as they snuck glances back towards the pair. She felt her cheek burn where Bren had previously leaned his face on hers during their waltz. Wulf was saying something but the blood pounding in her head was far too loud.

She said to me

"Oh, Death

It's way too wet on your cheeks to be nothing"

But what does she know?

Really, what does she know?

The troupe had slowed for a short rest now, and she crept closer unthinking, Wulf trailing behind her. The cold wind whipped her hood back and pulled her light locks free, carrying snips of conversation back to them. “The- I’m sorry, the lesbians?”

“Yes, Yasha there and Expositor Lionett. They’re quite capable on the frontline, and often I find the best means of dealing damage to the enemy is through enhancing their abilities and staying out of sight. So ja, buff the lesbians.” Concluding with a pat on the Kryn’s forearm, Bren appeared to finally spot his hand’s location and jolt back, sheepish grin mirroring one she had not seen for years since she caught him and Wulf outside her dormitory door with a bottle of whisky and a proposal. That pink tint to his cheeks is visible from here, betraying his intentions so plainly. Betraying them. Betraying her.

“I- I see. Any other... tips I should be aware of?” the Shadowhand had asked, looking to the rest of the group and quickly pulling the orb back towards himself once Bren had released him, before thinking and proffering it to the others. Her own cheek stung still. To her side, Wulf reached over and too-gently touched it, rubbing away a layer of ice built up. The half-orc sat up from his resting point across from them, putting his hands towards the orb without any comment on the pair’s previous position.

“Ah, yes - while Jester is a cleric,” he intoned, leaning towards the blue tiefling gently, “try to go unconscious near Caduceus.”

“Fjord!”

“What?! You prefer a more… proactive approach to battle!”

Soothing with a hand on her shoulder, the gray firbolg also leans in and places a teapot atop the orb. “The Wildmother is interested in preserving the natural cycle of life, and if it is not your time, She will not let you pass. At least, not while I have anything to say about it.”

Bren had pulled away now, eyes softening as he looked between the drow and the rest of the group. She drew a wire from her pocket and she took a breath, steeling herself before casting Sending once more.

“Bren.” He stiffened stick-straight. “Do not be alarmed. Wulf and I are approaching your position.” She paused. “Just us. We wish to speak.” She does not trust herself to use the remaining words without stumbling.

“Caleb? Trent again? Or...” The Cobalt Soul expositor perked up, but Bren had lifted a hand to her and shook his head.

“Astrid.” Came clear into her mind as she heard the monk curse in the distance. “If it is just the two of you, please approach. I’m sure our company raises questions.” A pause of his own. “You could have told Jester you were here.”

Overlapping Bren’s voice, Wulf whispers, “What are you doing?” but she’s already stood tall and pushed her hair from her eyes.

“Just trust me.”

Oh, I- I- I- I- I never wanted it to be this way

Oh, you know I- I- I- I hold on to everything you say

“Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, Essek Thelyss. Please meet my, ah, associates Astrid and Eadwulf of the Dwendalian Empire.” Bren gestures. They had all stood as the Volstrucker approached, remaining in their previous circle, but the halfling had drawn her crossbow from her hip and the dark woman had also unsheathed a gleaming blade.

Careful with his words, as if his present company could be spooked like a horse, the Shadowhand spoke with low, smooth tones. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His eyes betrayed his tone, flitting towards each of Bren’s group in turn. “To what do we owe this visit?”

She smiled coolly. “There is no need for deception here, Herr Thelyss. In fact, it would benefit us all to be forthright. You needn’t pretend this is our first encounter.”

These words should have shook the Kryn to the core, so blunt and expository, the jaws of her trap slowly ratcheting open. His demeanor had not shifted, however, as Bren glanced between the two. “Fair enough, Madam Beck.” The Nein jumped slightly at this, far more than her initial reveal. Had Bren never shared her last name with his companions? “And Mister Grieve, I assume you are well?”

“Well enough in this frozen waste,” was Wulf’s gruff reply, arms crossed to the left and slightly behind her, but within her field of view.

“Then please, join our circle,“ came Bren’s voice, shaking surely due to the cold. She stepped forward at the invitation, and took the space to his other side, the halfling stepping aside but cautiously keeping a hand on the base of her crossbow. “Come now, Veth, there’s no need for that among friends.” Wulf stepped through the circle, taking a position next to the firbolg he liked so much during that dinner before. “We have plenty to share, and I’m sure they do as well.”

Bren always had such a way with words, she thought. Certainly better than Wulf, a perfect voice to tug at one’s heartstrings. He could say so much with so little. If there is any love left between us, cursing his words as they came back to her. Perhaps he was even greater a manipulator than the spymaster to his right. Plenty of love was left, it seemed, but how much belonged to her?

“Ohmigosh Astrid, we are so happy to see you! Why didn’t you say you were close before? We could have been traveling together this whole time!“ the tiefling bubbled, a little too enthusiastically. She was no fool.

“My apologies, Jester.” She gave another cool smile, then directed her gaze around Bren to settle on the drow once more. “There were matters we had to confirm before we could make our presence known to you and Bren.” He stiffened alongside Bren, glancing down at the other wizard with a question in his eyes, and her smile turned slightly more predatory. “Herr Thelyss, might I inquire as to your business in Eiselcross? Seeking additional Beacons, I presume?”

The level of confusion did not rise in the group as she expected, however. The Shadowhand’s eyes narrowed and turned back to her as she pressed further. “Had the Martinet not already promised to share our research?”

“Astrid.”

Bren stepped forward, blocking her line of sight to the Kryn.

“Caleb, please.” A dark hand touched his shoulder (how dare he, her fingers twitched), pushing the man back towards his previous position. “Madam Beck,” he continued, “your insinuations would be quite dangerous in almost any circle but this one.” His shoulders back, he lifted slightly higher off the ground. “I am not interested in being toyed with. Clearly you were sent to dispose of me, so go ahead. Complete your business. But do not waste my friends’ time with your attempts to reveal that which is no longer concealed from them.”

He knew? Bren fucking knew? They all knew what this man had done and walked out into a frozen hellhole with him? Showed him trust, and affection of all things? Her mind swam, staring her target in his face as she searched for any fracture, any sign of weakness. He can’t possibly have told them everything. How could they forgive him for starting the war they had foolishly pledged to end on their own? How could Bren trust him, but not-

“It’s true, Astrid.” Bren said softly in that verdammt voice. “We caught on before the peace talks out at sea. Lord Dezran Thain,” he gave the honorific a teasing lilt, “was a bit too careless. He should not have chosen to be a lord in a city in which he did not know of its main attraction.” He smiled towards Jester.

“Yeah, I don’t know of a single person from Nicodranas who doesn’t know my mamma. Sorry Essek,” she winked at him. He gave an awkward smile in response. Silence hung over the group for a moment.

Wulf finally piped up again. “Well, you’re correct that we were here to kill the Shadowhand.” The group quickly tightened at his words, apart from the firbolg who still stood beside him casually, focused on making tea in that pot on top of the orb. “But... how we do that now is a mystery to me.” His lazy glance cast over her, then Bren, then narrowing briefly on the traitor. He gave a shrug as he unceremoniously sat in the snow. “So let’s talk.”

“Yes, I think there’s much to discuss,” the firbolg said, pulling the now-warm pot from the orb and beginning to pour cups. He smiled towards her sympathetically, somehow looking through her and reaching across the circle with a mug before sitting back and offering another to Wulf. She took it delicately, glancing at the pattern of soft petals on a dark branch.

As the other cups were passed out and the group slowly sat back down, Wulf popped open his flask and poured his whisky into the cup until it reached the brim, then capped it and flicked it across the circle to her. Barely looking up from the cup, she caught the flask mid-air with practiced precision, choosing to take a swig from it directly rather than sullying the tea. A calloused hand with blackened fingertips entered her view from the left as she tilted her head back down. Requesting, but not demanding. Too kind, too tender, and it made her heart ache as the liquor burned her throat. Not meeting his eyes, she passed the flask along.

“Prost.”

Oh, k- k- k- k- k- keep your pity to yourself

Oh, I'll make you wish that you didn't love someone else

[imagine-that]

Agressive

Warnings: fluff, mild swearing, Peter Parker being more lovable and adorable than humanly possible

Pairing: Peter Parker x Rogers!Reader

AN: hey look, it’s Peter Parker word vomit round two!! I love most of this but Idk what I was thinking with that ending 😬🤦‍♀️ maybe you guys’ll like it though?? I guess I’ll have to wait and see. Also can you tell I’ve fallen in love with Peter? Because I definitely have.

With a deep breath you take one last punch at the bag in front of you, watching calmly as it goes flying across the gym.

“Woah!” A voice from behind you says, causing you to spin around.

“S-sorry! It’s just... that was.... that was so cool.” The boy says sheepishly.

“Yeah superhuman serum can usually make a person capable of stuff that others deem cool.” You say, unfazed by the look of pure amazement.

“Yeah that’s um... that’s true.” He stutters, his face going a bright red.

“Who are you exactly?” You ask bluntly, pulling off the mitts on your hands and grabbing your water bottle.

“Oh, I’m uh... I’m Peter. Interning for Mr Stark.” He explains nervously.

You squint at him, trying to figure out where you may recognize him from.

“He’s also Spider-Man.” Tony says as he passes by briskly.

“Mr Stark!” The boy groans, looking at him desperately. Tony merely shrugs as a response before being back on his way.

“Ok well I’m done here so I’ll be going.” You mutter, putting your fighting equipment back where you’d found it all. You grab the punching bag from the floor, hanging it back up with ease.

“I-I’m sorry? Is everything ok?” Peter asks, looking really confused.

You let out a sigh, finally looking over at him. “Look, you seem like an ok guy but the fact is, you’re one of the people who helped drive my dad out of the country so I’m not interested in making nice, alright?” You explain, walking around him towards the door.

“Don’t mind Capsicle junior, she’s/he’s/they’re hostile with everyone.” Tony says to Peter as he comes back into the room.

“Heard that.” You call over your shoulder.

“Not my fault it’s true.” Tony says with a shrug.

“Whatever tinman. If you talk to my dad anytime soon, can you just tell him how much a kid’s social life tanks when their parent is a wanted fugitive?” You ask as you pull one of your dads disguise caps over your hair.

You didn’t get to go on many missions and you never went undercover but you often used to take your dads hats when you were younger and he eventually just stopped protesting and let you take them as long as they were returned eventually. Now, it seemed they were all yours.

“If I talk to him, I’ll let him know.” He agrees.

“No, not if. When!” You correct.

You’d always been more optimistic than most but since your dad had fled the country, it’d become a rare sight which is why Tony was surprised at the statement.

“Alright, when.” He says with a small smile and you nod before making your way out the door, barely noticing the eyes on you the entire time.

—————————————————————

As a car pulled up to the curb outside your school, you raised a brow at the driver before getting in.

“Nat? I thought you were on another mission off in the world somewhere?” You ask as you buckle your seatbelt.

“I was but then someone dragged me back so there was someone to keep you out of trouble.” She says with a smile.

“I’m guessing Tinman is that someone?” You ask and you groan as she nods.

“You know what happened the last time he was gone. He came back to find you completely drunk after some party.” She shrugs and you sigh, watching out the window wordlessly.

“The last time he was gone, he was going after my dad.” You point out.

“I know you miss Steve y/n. But you have to try to control your anger. No one wants you ending up in one of those cells like Wanda, Sam and everyone else.” She explains.

“At least then I wouldn’t have to listen to people call my dad a criminal.” You fire back.

“Oh forgot to mention but there’s a teenage boy in the backseat.” Nat says casually and you whip your head around to see Peter.

“Nat! You couldn’t have said something when I got in?” You grumble.

She gives you a small shrug. “Figured you would’ve noticed. You ought to train with me more, you’ll be more attentive to detail.” She says.

“Of course. Will do.” You mutter sarcastically, cursing a bit under your breath.

“Hi!” Peter says quickly, obviously very nervous.

“...hi.” You say hesitantly, peering over the headrest to see him and ignoring the little bit of butterflies you feel unexpectedly in seeing him in normal everyday clothing instead of his suit.

“I uh... I’m Peter.” He says awkwardly.

You roll your eyes a bit, a lighthearted smile on your face. “Yeah, I remember. We met like a month ago I think.” You remind him, obviously amused.

“Right...” he sighs, clearly cursing himself quietly.

You’d seen Peter around a few times actually, at Stark industries events and around the Tower and such. You’d basically avoided the boy at every possible interaction, not wanting to be anywhere near him. You’d gone as far as avoiding the gym completely for over a week, worried he might go through there to get to Tony’s lab.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, you gaining the odd grin from Natasha when she sees you looking back at Peter in the mirror every now and then and you immediately avoiding the view afterwards.

It wasn’t as though you liked Peter. You couldn’t. It was a nearly impossible idea to even think of liking him. You didn’t know a single thing about him. You were still mad about everything that had gone on at the airport.

But you couldn’t say that he didn’t intrigue you. At least not without it being a flat out lie.

Once back to the tower, you quickly scramble out of the car, hiking your backpack over one shoulder as you rush into the building with your head down.

To your surprise, you hear the slapping of the bottom of shoes coming up behind you quickly.

“Sorry, I just... I- can we talk?” Peter asks, searching your eyes desperately for a way to read you or see at least a fragment of what you felt.

You could tell that’s what he was doing. It didn’t much affect you, having been trained to lie by Black Widow herself at a young age. You were quick to put up your defences at any sign of emotional situations which was why everyone resorted to calling you cold and distant. Especially since Steve was gone.

You nod, motioning wordlessly for him to go on.

“Well, I just uh... I just wanted to y’know, check on you. I um... I know our first meeting was a little... rough.” He explains and you sigh, relaxing your shoulders a bit to show a sign of less hostility.

“Look, I don’t hate you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. I know being offered the opportunity to work with the great and mighty Tony Stark was probably too tempting to turn down.” You mutter sarcastically. “I’m just going through some stuff right now and you being the guy who basically almost got my dad caught isn’t helping matters.” You explain, running a tired hand through your y/h/c hair.

“Oh! That’s actually not what I meant. I can see why you’d not really like me right now.” He says with an awkward smile.

“So what are you talking about then?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, you’re a kid with superpowers for one. I can kind of relate to that.” He says with a laugh, making you smile a bit. “And your dad is captain America. That must be pretty cool.” He adds.

You laugh a bit, remembering bits and pieces of your moments with your dad. “Yeah... except when you get lectured for having detention by your dad in front of everyone at school.” You say playfully.

“Oh god, I forgot about that video.” Peter says, cracking up a bit.

“You don’t have a reason to hate it as much as me! I had to listen to it and then my dad lectured me about it when I got home. And so did aunt Nat, uncle Bucky and aunt Wanda.” You point out, your smile slightly faltering at the memories.

Peter is smiling but when he looks at you and notices the sad expression on your face, his smile falls even faster than yours had.

“Are... are you ok?” He asks hesitantly, head tilted in concern.

You sniffle a bit, annoyed at your sudden sign of weakness.

“I’m fine. I just... miss them.” You say with a shrug. You laugh awkwardly, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. “I’m a mess, don’t worry I know.” You add.

“You have a reason to be though.” Peter assures you nervously.

You laugh, a bitter and off sound leaving your mouth.

“That’s not what people at school think. You’d be surprised at how fast people will literally boo you during gym class when your dad pops up in a video to explain simple health or weight training or whatever. Or how quick they’ll be to shun you. They all think I’m hiding him, harbouring a fugitive.” You mutter, staring down at Peters shoes to distract yourself.

You shake your head a bit, trying to clear your thoughts.

“My dad is off risking his life and he still protected me from everything that happened so far. The absolute least I can do is to stop being pathetic and moping about it.” You mumble with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose tiredly.

Without warning, Peters open palm is against your back, moving in soothing circles over and over. To your own surprise, you don’t flinch away from the contact. You instead choose to embrace it, taking deep breaths to keep yourself calm.

“Thank you.” You murmur as you feel him pulling you into his chest a bit. You hesitate for a moment but ultimately decide it’s alright for you to let your head fall onto his chest, almost nuzzling it into his shirt.

You can feel him tense up in surprise, almost pulling away awkwardly.

Immediately, you straighten your posture from your previously slouched figure, back on high alert and embarrassed by your show of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry. Basket case, I warned you.” You say quickly, forcing a laugh as you point an index finger at yourself.

“Er... yeah...” He stutters with a tight lipped smile, causing you to nervously bite your lip.

“Excuse me.” You sigh, running off into the gym again, leaving Peter standing alone in the hall. Or so he thought.

“Well that was... strange...” Tony says, watching the space you’d just left with a perplexed look on his face.

Peter jumped a little bit, immediately standing with near perfect posture.

“Yeah- Yeah very strange mr stark.” He agrees.

Tony looks at him with a cocky grin.

“Kid, do you even know what makes that whole interaction strange?” He questions, leaning against the doorframe.

“Well no-“ Peter begins quickly and Tony holds up a hand to stop him before he gets the chance to yammer any longer.

“Well underoos, it’s incredibly strange because not once have I ever seen junior be in any way vulnerable with anyone before. At least no one outside of the Avengers.” He explains. “And the first time I see it, it’s with you, who she/he/they knows absolutely nothing about.” He adds when he notices the look of pure confusion on Peters face.

“Well it might just be because I was here. Or because I was being nice or...” Peter begins rambling, looking for any valid reasons you may have looked for comfort from him of all people.

Tony stops listening after a while and when Peter finally stops to breath, he puts a hand on his shoulder calmly.

“Kid, she/he/they is right in there. And she/he/they isn’t just nice to anyone for no reason.” He begins slowly as though talking to a child. “Go ask her/him/them yourself.” He says, giving Peter a gentle shove towards the doors to the gym.

Hesitantly, Peter pushes the door open and slips through, gulping a bit as he walks in to find you in the same place you were when the two of you had met.

As he notices you turning around at the sound of his entrance, his nerves take over and he finds himself using his webs to jump up onto the ceiling.

“Hello? Someone there?” You call out uncertainly as you survey your surroundings.

Your fists are up as you cautiously take steps forward, looking around for any source of the noise.

After another few seconds of silence, you figure you were just hearing things and go bag to throwing agressive punches at the bag in front of you.

The feeling of a pair of eyes on you throws you off a bit, suspicions creeping up your spine. You spin around in a circle like a dog chasing their tail, your senses on high alert as you try and shake the feeling.

As you turn with an irritated groan back to the bag, Peter finally decides to reveal himself, dropping down from the ceiling and landing poorly right behind you, causing you to swing around swiftly, socking him in the jaw with your gloved fist.

“Ow.” He moans, putting a hand over his aching jaw.

Your hands immediately go to cup your mouth in shock as you see who it was.

“Shit! Don’t sneak up on someone like that, what the hell?!” You cry out, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I- sorry!” He says, starting to mumble a bit.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and groaning a bit.

“That was... sorry. That was fucking selfish of me.” You mutter. “Are you ok?” You ask, gently reaching over to examine his jaw.

“Fuck that’s gonna leave a mark. I’m sorry.” You say, trying to contain the laugh threatening to escape your lips.

“Don’t worry about it. I did kind of sneak up on you I uh... I guess.” He replies, laughing sheepishly.

“Yeah. Curse my damn reflexes I guess.” You say with a small grin.

“Junior, language!” Tony says in a mocking tone as he rushes past, clearly on his way to something important.

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. “Oh c’mon! That was one perk to my dad not being here.” You say dramatically, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

With the amount of sarcastic remarks and swears you uttered, many people would probably believe that you were Tony’s kid rather than Steve’s.

“Well sorry he asked me to look after you. Blame the old man, not me.” Tony says with a shrug.

“Of course he did.” You sigh but your eyes widen quickly as you look over at him, a light turning on in your brain. “When did he tell you that?” You ask hopefully, eyes baring into Tony at this point.

“Sometime last night? Oh and he said no s/o’s yet. Little late for that I think.” He says, suppressing a grin as he eyes a very red faced Peter.

“You-you talked to him?” You ask softly, too elated to notice the squirming Spider-Man beside you.

Tony nods and you grin.

“He’s ok?” You ask, blinking at him.

“He’s doing fine. Busy all around the world.” He confirms somewhat bitterly.

You were no stranger to the tension between them and somehow you knew that the last time they were physically near each other, it had gotten worse somehow. Still, you knew neither of them would ever break contact with the other for your own sake.

Ignoring the spiteful undertone, you jump around a bit excitedly.

Peter palms a snicker and you whip around, realizing he’s still there.

“My dad’s been gone for so long... I just...” you mutter, hardly noticing as Tony once again slips out of the room.

“It’s ok. I get it, if my parents were still around I’d probably feel the same.” Peter says, a lopsided smile on his face.

“It’s actually kind of... um.... kind of cute.” He admits, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck nervously.

Without thinking, you jump into his arms, nearly knocking him over as you hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” You breath into his ear, ignoring the internal alarms telling you to keep your guard up.

His mouth moves to speak but is quickly interrupted by yet another show of your boldness as you press your lips onto his, kissing him softly.

“I- I’m sorry? I don’t... I don’t know what that was.” You laugh nervously as you pull away, the adrenaline from the moment still pumping through you.

It turned out you’d taken a lot more of a liking to Peter than you’d initially fooled yourself into thinking you did.

“No! I-I mean-“ Peter exclaims, blushing furiously again. “I mean I kind of... I kind of wanted to do the same thing?” He sighs, looking up at you through his lashes.

You blink, your mouth opening and closing with no words coming out.

Before either of you can say much more, Nat walks into the gym and gives you a smug grin when she notices the proximity of your bodies to each other.

“Nat-“ You begin but she tuts her tongue to stop you.

“Your dad won’t find out as long as he also doesn’t find out that I helped Tony try and get you two together.” She offers, looking between the both of you again.

“Ok su- wait what?!” You cry, eyes once again widening in shock.

She grins again before walking out of the gym.

“I could kill them-“ you mutter and Peter places a hand on your shoulder.

“Or we could... er.... we could actually go out together? Like, on a... on a date?” He asks hopefully.

You smile softly, probably one of the first genuine smiles you’d had since your dad left.

“Sounds like a date. Pick me up from the foyer at the compound around six.” You grin, quickly pecking him on he cheek. “Oh, you might want to put some ice on that. I throw a pretty hard punch.” You add, pointing at his jaw and walking away, leaving the boy speechless and more smitten than he’d ever thought possible.

[the-big-nope]

While I’m certainly nowhere near ready for the story of the Mighty Nein to come to an end, I am also a D&D nerd and there’s a new sourcebook coming out soon with a bunch of new subclasses in it. By the time Campaign 3 of Critical Role gets underway, that book will be published, leaving a wealth of new options for the cast members to choose from, so why not entertain myself by making barely justified predictions of what the cast is most likely to pick for their next characters! (Disclaimer: Some of the new subclasses have been confirmed and some haven’t, so for a few of these picks I’m just going off of what I think is going to be in the book).

Travis

Cleric (Tempest Domain): Travis has been playing lowkey EMT since campaign one, and Laura’s already confirmed that Travis almost went cleric for campaign two. Between Grog with his barb-boosted movement speed to get around the battlefield so he could shove healing potions into his squishier teammates, and Fjord multiclassing into paladin and lovingly tapping his friends with single hit points to get them back up, it would be delightful to see him fully jump in and embrace the classical healer role. Of course, this is Travis, so I don’t see him picking a cleric domain that doesn’t allow for at least some whoop-ass, and Tempest Domain brings plenty of it. You get proficiency with all armor and weapons, Divine Strike at level 8 for boosted melee damage, you can use a reaction to inflict lightning or thunder damage against any enemy within melee range that’s hit you. And if you climb up high enough in levels, you gain a flying speed equal to your walking one whenever you’re outdoors. Pretty nifty, and makes for a fitting subclass for a guy that’s voiced Thor on multiple occasions.

Blood Hunter (Order of the Lycan): I mean, come on. The only reason it isn’t number one is that it was already widely assumed this would be Travis’s pick for campaign two, and I wouldn’t put it past him to surprise us again. But still, we saw him get a taste in Liam’s one shot and he was clearly having the time of his life. Besides, we lost Molly far too early to really see the blood hunter’s potential come to life; it would be damn cool to see someone else take a crack at it, and Travis is enough of a D&D gambler to not shy away from the class’s riskier features.

Artificer (Armorer): Speaking of Marvel connections, if Travis doesn’t lean toward fantasy Thor, then fantasy Iron Man might catch his attention instead. Artificer is an official class now, and since it’ll be reprinted in TCoE by the time campaign 3 gets underway, it’ll be a lot more visible as an option. The Armorer sits in almost a perfect middle ground of what Travis has done before: tanky and a frontliner, but also still has spells and tricks to help the party. Plus, you get a badass suit of power armor out of it. What’s not to like?

Marisha

Bard (College of Creation): After Hazel Copperpot, we all saw the pure magic that was Marisha Ray playing a bard. I know she implied that Hazel was supposed to be her campaign two backup character, but I hope this doesn’t discourage her from making another one. There are quite a few bard subclasses, a number of which I could see her being drawn to (Lore, Glamour, maybe even Swords), but I really vibe with the idea of Creation. I can’t exactly say why; maybe the idea of the ‘dancing object’ feature in Marisha’s hands is very funny to me (remember Keyleth’s adorable “Be Our Guest” moment? That, but this time it’s a walking wardrobe beating the shit out of the enemy).

Paladin (Oath of Vengeance/Conquest): As of yet, no one on Critical Role has ever played a paladin from the start, only multiclassed later down the line. I think this would be a cool departure for Marisha. Both campaigns she’s played characters that were either suspicious or at least indifferent to faith and the gods. Paladins are typically associated with deities, but they’re not tied quite so closely to them as clerics are. It would be fascinating to see what she did with it. As for the subclass, I just think Marisha’s earned her turn on the Goth Character Carousel, and while I know Conquest paladin is very unlikely given its moral grayness by default which might cause undue conflict and that Vengeance is a much more likely and acceptable pick, I just think it would be a sexy character choice. 

Wizard (Bladesinger/Graviturgist): This is a much more pie-in-the-sky, wishful thinking pick on my end, but not impossible imo. Marisha has experience with heavy spellcasting already, so she probably wouldn’t shy away from a wizard, but like Travis I suspect she likes a bit of oomph to her characters, and probably wouldn’t play as support heavy as Caleb does. To that end, Bladesingers get a bit more survivability and some modicum of physical prowess alongside their spells, while Graviturgists are definitely on the more aggressive side of the spectrum for wizard subclasses, with unique dunamancy spells to boot. I’m not sure how restrictive Matt would be about Xhorhassian characters in the next campaign if it takes place on another continent, but hey, you never know. Plus, she picked one of Matt’s homebrew subclasses for the current campaign; it would be cute if it happened again.

Liam

Druid (Circle of the Shepherd): At some point before Critical Role comes to end (hopefully far in the future), I know Liam’s gonna play a druid, I can feel it in my bones. He's too big of a Kiki fan not to. However, while Circle of the Moon might feel obvious given the potential for homage and how much he likes turning into animals, I feel like he might regard it as getting too close to old territory (also, I don’t know if Circle of the Moon is like an exclusive thing to the Ashari tribes, and if it is that would be rather restrictive for building a backstory). If that’s the case, Circle of the Shepherd feels like the next best bet. It has some great support options via the totems you can put down, and rather than becoming badass animals, you instead just get really good at summoning a fuck ton of them. It’s like Frumpkin, but ten of him. And they’re bears. (Honorable mention: If Circle of the Moon would feel like treading old territory then I’m certain Circle of Wildfire would too, but I’d bet my dice collection it would at least be tempting). 

Cleric (Unity Domain): Listen. The pure sap potential that would be at Mr. O’Brien’s fingertips with this subclass is incredible. The domain all about strengthening and protecting the bonds between friends and loved ones?? The domain with the Channel Divinity that can spread damage taken by one creature across the party however the cleric chooses to distribute it to lessen the blow to the individual??? The domain that used to be called the Love Domain???? I’m practically gagging on the soft moments and unspoken devotion conveyed through spellcasting already.

Fighter (Rune Knight/Psi Knight): Liam has yet to play a tank in a long-term campaign, and while I’m more enamored with the potential of the above classes, it would be novel to see him play a character with an actually respectable amount of hit points. However, I feel like if he was gonna commit to a straight frontliner, he’d probably want something a little more unique than a Champion or Battle Master (especially since he’s played those already for one-shots). Rune Knight has some fun options and built-in flavor, and with Psi Knight you can basically be a Jedi. Not bad options at all if you ask me.

Taliesin

Warlock (Fiend): Yeah, it might be expected, or Percy might have been too close to warlock anyway to feel like there’s new ground to cover, but hear me out. Both Percy (who, let’s face it, was a warlock multiclass in all but the actual mechanics) and Fjord were the classic reluctants. They got in over their heads without really knowing what was going on, and once they did they wanted out, cutting ties with their patrons and getting clear with only the scars remaining. I want to see Taliesin commit to a warlock in a way I imagine only he could manage to pull off. How fun would that balancing act be, to have a character that has no intentions of breaking their pact, who’s here for the powers, and is willing to work that delicate balancing act between keeping what he’s got and not letting his contract holder get the better of him? Give it to meeeeee.

Sorcerer (Psionic Soul): Psionic Soul has a bit of that eldritch flavor that vibes with Taliesin so much, with the added interest of introducing a brand new feature to 5E, the Psi Die (with this subclass, using them can do things like letting a sorcerer learn a spell they don’t already know for a few hours, allow you to cast spells without needing verbal, somatic, or material components, and can give you telepathy). Taking both Percy and Molly into account, it seems Tal likes to lean into those unique additional mechanics, and while Psi Die aren’t as risk-heavy as Gunslinger or Bloodhunter, they do add a layer of variability and unpredictability that seems to match his style.

Rogue (Swashbuckler): We only got a little bit of time with Molly, and so missed out on the opportunity to see Tal play a more cavalier character this time around. If he feels like leaning away from spells next time and back toward martial, I think a high-charisma, high-swinging swashbuckler from Tal would be a delight to watch.

Laura

Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian): Laura deserves to hit things, okay? Yes, spellcasting is great and comes in clutch frequently and Jester’s amazing, but you can tell Laura misses doing fat stacks of damage to the enemy in a single round. I personally think it would be amazing to watch her just cut loose and go full rage machine. As for the subclass, I’m not glued to the idea, but Ancestral Guardians are pretty kickass, have decent support capabilities for a barb without detracting from their DPS at all, and it doesn’t tread on any previous characters’ toes or their aesthetics.

Rogue (Scout/Soulknife): Laura deserves to play her favorite class at last, okay? She’s been class poached two campaigns in a row, and though that resulted in both Vex and Jester and I wouldn’t trade them for the world, Laura has earned first pick. Seeing as she already dipped into Assassin as Vex and Sam took Arcane Trickster, I could see Scout being a viable subclass choice. It’s in the classic sneaky vein, relatively simple in concept, but comes with features that grant easy-to-understand benefits that you can never turn your nose up at (boosts to movement, advantage on initiative, giving advantage against a target to everyone else in the party, etc.). If she’s looking for something a bit flashier, Soulknife has the benefit of retroactively dunking on Vax by taking the basic knife-rogue and making it better, with psionic knives that you can manifest with a thought, that can teleport you around Whisper style, and cranking up that stealth to ridiculous levels by just being able to turn invisible for ten minutes, no concentration or spell needed. The psionic die mechanics are a little funky of course, but I don’t imagine it’s any trickier than learning to manage all those cleric spells.

Monk (Way of the Open Hand): Between Beau just being super cool and her brief stint as Farriwen Breeze, monk wouldn’t be a surprising pick from Laura. An Open Hand monk might be the definitive version everyone knows, but you can’t deny it’s a solid subclass, and between previous overlap and the concepts of the other subclasses just not seeming to fit, I could see the classic being what she went with. But hey, it’s Laura Bailey. She could surprise us with Way of the Drunken Master or something.

Sam

Ranger (Monster Slayer): Let’s be real, I don’t think this would be his actual first pick for a Campaign 3 character, but the amount of shit-stirring he could achieve by making a character with the aim of pissing off Laura Bailey specifically would be hilarious (and since Matt isn’t completely opposed to UA and acknowledges that PHB ranger has a lot of issues, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went Revised Ranger this time).

Warlock (Genie): Actual first pick here, Pact of the Genie Warlock is confirmed by now, and the potential of a warlock in the hands of Sam Riegel is pretty vast (for some reason I’m imagining he would go the ‘spoiled sugar baby’ route). The subclass doesn’t matter as much, but the Genie one is nice in that, depending on the type of genie patron you pick, you can get a wide variety of extra spells, you get a container like a classic lamp or lantern that you can bamf into for short rests, and you get a limited Wish ability for your capstone, all features I feel like would especially appeal to Sam.

Barbarian (Path of the Wild Soul): I want to see Sam play a fairy barbarian. ‘Nough said.

Ashley

Fighter (Eldritch/Echo Knight): Ashley really seems to vibe with the crushing power of martial classes (she does love her brutal kill descriptions), so I could see her sticking with it rather than going back to full caster. However, I do see her picking one of the magical subclasses for some variety after Yasha. Eldritch Knight is a classic and reasonably easy to manage, but tbh I’d LOVE for it to be Echo Knight. And think, if my wishful thinking came true, with Ashley picking an Echo Knight and Marisha playing a Graviturgist wizard, they could link up their backstories and be a traveling Kryn battle duo that left their homeland behind to explore the world!

Sorcerer (Draconic): If she does want to go back to full-time casting, Sorcerer doesn’t require near as much bookkeeping as a cleric, druid, or wizard while still having decent variety, and the Draconic subclass is a bit beefier than the other subclasses. Also, it would be the third campaign in a row where Ashley Johnson’s character eventually got wings, soooo...

And tbh I have no idea what a third pick might be for Ashley, so I’m just gonna throw a dart or two at the board and say either College of Whispers Bard or Way of Mercy Monk *Shrug* We can only wait and see!

[thesurielships]

feysand + “you promised me a cookie!”

kiss me like your ex is in the room

note: this is super late, I’m sorry. I hope you’re doing well, and I look forward to read your next creations when you feel better. Enjoy :))

note 2: uncle Colm is a character from Derry Girls and his lines are quoted from the show. It's a really good show, BTW.

Word count: 1.6k | Masterlist | ao3

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Rita’s bakery is the best in Velaris. They specialize in finger foods and exquisite little pastries, each more exotic and original than the next; but the town’s favorite – or at least, Feyre’s favorite – will always be their double chocolate chip cookies.

These are no simple cookies. Even though they have been critiqued by many a reputed culinary writer, the secret to the complexity of their taste has yet to be uncovered. With a chewy center and crispy edges, chocolate chips that explode in your mouth and a bittersweet aftertaste that is nothing short of addictive, plus the extreme exclusivity of Rita’s services, they are nothing short of an urban legend. In fact, hiring Rita for an event earns you a spot on the local gossip column for weeks, no questions asked.

Feyre supposes she shouldn’t be surprised that her cunning devil of a sister managed to get them to cater for her wedding. Or that she only made her maid of honor in order to work her to the bone. Nevertheless, as she gazes at Nesta’s dazzling smile and the absolutely enamored look in Cassian’s eyes, Feyre finds she is glad to be here. Even though she didn’t get to the cookies in time.

Her friend Alis catches her eye from a few tables away and as she walks towards her, a familiar voice makes her pause.

“Now, I don't mind a bit of a breeze, if any, I prefer it. But that one was aggressive. So I says to myself. I say 'Colm, this is no day for a do'. ”

The steadiness of his monotone never fails to amaze her.

“When the bride arrives, and I say by this stage, the wind was fierce. I've never heard wind like it -”

Feyre dares a peek at the new victim of her uncle Colm’s boring and endless ramblings, and the sight that greets her almost makes up for the missing cookies. Rhysand - the best man and general pain in her ass ever since she met him a couple of months ago – is the portrait of boredom. He is slouching in his chair, his chin in his hand and his eyelids drooping as he struggles to focus on uncle Colm’s story. It’s the first time she sees him without his usual smirk, and she hates that she misses it.

“Howling like a banshee it was,” her uncle drones on. “So the poor girl –”

Feyre clears her throat and Rhysand starts. She bites back a laugh at the hope that kindles in his face when he sees her.

“Feyre dear, I was just telling this handsome young fellow about –”

“The windy wedding story?”

Uncle Colm smiles at her fondly. “You remember?”

She nods solemnly. “It’s a very funny story. You should hear the rest of it, Rhysand,” she adds with a smirk.

Rhysand’s eyes are wide with horror. She can almost hear him shout ‘save me!’

“So the poor girl,” her uncle resumes his retelling, “the bride now this is –”

Feyre raises a brow defiantly. Why should I?

“She arrives and –”

He glances to his side and she follows his gaze. The prick has not one, not two, but three of Rita’s cookies on a plate.

“Isn't she no –”

“Uncle Colm,” she exclaims in a high pitched tone, “I’m sorry to interrupt such a good story, but I actually need Rhysand for a very urgent matter.”

The usually unflappable best man practically jumps out of his seat. “Duty calls, uncle Colm.”

“That’s a shame,” her uncle sighs. “I was so close to the end. Are you sure –”

“Yes,” Rhysand squeaks, and Feyre coughs to hide her laugh. “Maybe next time,” he throws over his shoulder as he drags her away.

No sooner are they out of earshot that she collapses into a fit of giggles. Rhysand frowns and she laughs harder. He tries to keep his face stern but the corners of his lips are twitching. When she finally sobers up, Feyre offers him her hand, palm up.

One groomed eyebrow lifts. “What?”

“What do you mean, what? You promised me a cookie!”

Rhysand slides his hands into his pockets and Feyre’s heart sinks. “I did no such thing.”

“But, but,” she sputters, “I saw you! You looked at those cookies!”

He chuckles, low and soft. “Those cookies aren’t mine, Feyre darling.”

“You tricked me.”

She glares up at him but freezes when her eyes fall on the doors behind him. Tamlin is here. The blood drains from her face. She can feel herself quaking in her heels and she hates how he makes her feel small just by walking in the room.

“What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer.

What in the Cauldron is he doing here? Is he here for me?

Her chest is too tight. She can’t breathe.

He’s here for me, he’s here for me, he’s here for-

“Feyre.”

She startles at Rhysand’s voice. He turns to look behind him and she grabs him by the lapel. “Don’t,” she whispers.

He patiently waits for her to explain.

“Tamlin, my ex –”

Understanding dawns in his eyes. His smile is grim.

Feyre dares another glance over his shoulder. “He’s –” she croaks, swallows, clears her throat, “comin –”

Rhysand’s lips on hers stop her short.

Feyre just stands there, too stunned to react. He draws away slightly. His hands cup her face and his thumbs stroke her cheeks lovingly. His gaze is steady on hers as he waits for her to make the next move.

Her hands are still clutching his lapels so she pulls him close and kisses him.

She means to repel Tamlin, but as soon as their lips meet she forgets everything but the man that has been haunting her dreams for months. The kiss is slow and languorous, and Feyre wonders at the softness of his lips, the gentleness of his caress. Her fingers bury in his hair and his hands trail down to her waist, setting her skin burning on their wake. She moans and he smiles. She bites his lower lip so he allows her entry, and Feyre is so busy committing the taste of him, the feel of him to memory that it takes her a couple of minutes to realize that someone is watching.

A throat clears next to them, and Feyre pulls away. Rhysand’s eyes are a mirror of what she’s feeling: a mixture of surprise, delight and longing. His smile is slow as he reads the naked emotions on her face, his hold tightening around her waist. Her fingers are still caressing the soft hair at the base of his neck.

Tamlin clears his throat once again and Feyre reluctantly untangles herself from Rhysand, though he nestles his hand in the small of her back to keep her close.

“Tamlin,” she begins and is surprised to find her voice strong and her knees steady. She remembers something an old friend of hers told her in the dark days following their break up. ‘Only you can decide what breaks you.’ And here, in Nesta’s wedding and in Rhysand’s arms, Feyre decides she is done being afraid of her controlling asshole of an ex.

She levels a condescending glare at Tamlin and says nothing, but he’s too busy scowling at Rhys to notice. “Who. Are. You?”

Feyre’s nostrils flare. How typical of him to dismiss her, to address any one but her as though what she has to say doesn’t matter.

Rhysand’s only answer is his arrogant smirk, and she kind of wants to laugh.

“Tamlin.”

Now he looks at her, frowning at the smirk dancing on her lips, a mirror of her companion’s.

“This is my boyfriend, Rhys. But you can call him Rhysand.”

Her accomplice’s fingers poke her side in amusement. “And who might you be?” he asks, looking down his nose at the man who has been haunting her nightmares for months.

“I’m Feyre’s fiancé,” Tamlin bites back.

Rhysand’s face is disinterested, almost bored. “Darling, you didn’t tell me you were engaged.”

She shoots him a sheepish smile. “I guess it slipped my mind.” And because she just can’t help herself, she puts a hand back on his muscled chest and says in a sultry voice, “I can’t think of much when you’re around.”

The moment she says it, the truth of it resonates in her heart. She doesn’t know what gives her away, but something sparks in Rhysand’s eyes and he pulls her impossibly closer. “Yeah?”

She bites her lip. “Yeah.”

His smile takes her breath away. She doesn’t bother looking back at Tamlin as she declares, “For the record, asshole, we are not engaged. I refused your proposal three months ago.”

“You were confused. You don’t know what –” Tamlin starts but Rhysand interrupts him, “You heard the lady.”

Rhysand’s gaze doesn’t stray from hers for a second. Feyre is drowning, no, floating in this moment. She feels free, unmoored. She wants to throw her head back and laugh until she cries. She wants to dance until her feet ache. She wants to hold this man and never let go.

“Thank you,” her voice is earnest. “You saved me.”

He leans so close their noses touch. “You know, Tamlin left a few seconds ago.”

Feyre loops her arms around his neck. “Is that so?”

His eyes are brighter than stars. “About those cookies,” he begins, almost hesitantly. “I could bake you some.”

She raises a disbelieving brow.

“I know, I know. I’m no Rita, but I happen to have a mighty good recipe. Except instead of flour, I use oatmeal –”

Feyre grimaces.

“Instead of butter, coconut oil.”

She scrunches her nose in disgust.

“And instead of chocolate –”

“You’re replacing chocolate?”

“It could be a date.”

Feyre’s heart stumbles. She glances left and right then stands on the tips of her toes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “I would be burned at the stake if the people around here found out I chose this awful creation instead of a good ol’ Ritacookie –”

Rhysand rolls his eyes.

“But it’s a date.”

Tag list: @joyceortiz13 @bailey-4244 @quakeriders @standbislytherin @mariamuses @ignite14 @1800-fight-me @velarian-trash @rhysands-highlady @queenblueoffire @rowaelinforeverworld @feeoly @buckybvrnes @dayanna-hatter @shadowstar2313 @goldfishh20 @sleeping-and-books @crackedship @your-high-lady @thesirenwashere @whiskeybusiness1776 @amren-courtofdreams @tswaney17 @julemmaes @booksbooksbooksworld @queenofbumblebees @meowsekai @awkward-avocado-s

[salamanderskin]

For the anon who wanted Caduceus + Sniffles

Thanks for ask, fellow Caduceus fan. This is brought to you by my obsession with Cad saying ‘uh-oh’ before he sneezes, Team Cleric and found family taking care of each other.

The kitchen in the Xhorhaus is bright and warm, populated by one familiar firbolg who is tackling the enormous pile of dirty dishes. Caleb had only meant to grab a glass of water before returning to his books but it is impossible not to pause when Caduceus calls out, "Hey Caleb, there's tea and cookies on the table."

No matter how long he lives with his friends, Caleb will never, ever get used to this. It always makes him warm inside as he takes one and sits at the long wooden table, reading forgotten for now. "Did you make these?" "No, Jester did." "And you are cleaning up after her because-?" Caduceus just shrugs and is soon up both elbows in washing-up.It's very calm in the kitchen, though not quiet. The part of Caleb's mind that is always alert tracks the slight sounds of sloshing water, dishes in the sink, creaks on the floowboards above and soft sniffles from Caduceus every few minutes. 

-snf snf-- as Caduceus carries a stack of pots over from the stove. 

A more insistent -snfSNF- followed by the clatter of pans put down quickly and-

His first panicked thought is that Caduceus might be crying. He hears the chaotic gasps of breath, sees his broad hands reaching to hide his face

."heh… heh-- 'chsshoo!  'scuse me." Ah, it was only a sharp little sneeze, half-smothered into the cup of Caduceus' hands.

"Gesundheit."

"Thank you." The firbolg runs the back of his wrist under his muzzle and sniffles again before returning the washing up.Caleb is paying closer attention now. It is a little comical, the way Caduceus can't itch at his nose because both his hands are soaked with soapy water, forcing him to scrunch up his muzzle and sniffle. His progress is hindered by sudden, flinching sneezes which he tries his best to direct away from the sink. 

"Uh oh… uhhCHshhhoo!- CHsshoo!" 

Despite his efforts, soap suds drift into the air. Those plus the steaming water can't be helping at all, Caleb thinks.

The third time it happens, Caduceus actually has to stop what he's doing, dry his hands on a tea towel and pinch under his nose under the sneezing stops. He looks so uncharacteristically frustrated that Caleb comes over to place a hand on his shoulder.

  "Are you feeling alright?"

 "Yeah, just…" Caduceus scrubs at his nose again, "sniffles."

 "So I hear." "I'm sorry, it must be very annoying." 

"Worse for you, I think- gesundheit!"- Caleb finishes as Caduceus sneezes another sharp IIiSshhoo! that rocks him back on his heels. 

"If you keep this up I will set Jester on you." 

"Hah." Caduceus laughs. "I'm sure there's no need. I'm gonna go grab a hankie and take a tea break and I'll be good to go."

"I'll hold you to that." Caleb affirms and takes the rest of his tea back to the study where he can drink it in peace.

. ……….

They share dinner that evening. Caduceus is really getting the hang of cooking the unfamiliar foods available in Rosohna and most of it is quite delicious, though perhaps heavier on mushrooms and lighter on rats than the rest of the party might prefer. After the meal Caleb looks to his friend to offer thanks and finds him looking distinctly worse for wear. Caduceus clears the plates away as if on autopilot, his eyes looking somewhere else. When the human taps him on the shoulder, Caduceus starts in surprise. 

"Oh, sorry, I was somewhere else." His voice sounds soft and hoarse, punctuated by a few rogue sniffles. Caleb is no cleric but even he can see that Caduceus looks tired and unwell. He raises an eyebrow.

 "You look done in. Sit down, someone else can do the dishes. Possibly Jester"

"Did someone say my name?!" 

As if summoned, everyone's favourite blue tiefling appears out of nowhere to lean against the counter.

"Ah, I was just suggesting that you could do the washing up."

 Jester huffs and rolls her eyes theatrically but grabs her apron nonetheless.  "We really, really need to get some servants or something. I shouldn't be expected to- oh, what's the matter with Caduceus?"

"I'm fine." Jester shares a glance with Caleb as Caduceus chooses that moment to double over and sneeze  "heh-- 'chsshoo!" into his elbow as discreetly as he can manage. 

"Come here. Let me look at you."

"Just a -snf- just a s-seh-cond-" His voice cracks. "hah-chIISShoo! Oh dear."

"Bless you. Now come here." 

Caduceus casts a wary glance at Caleb who pats him firmly on the back. 

"I'm not letting you escape this one, my friend. Let her do her job for once." 

"Yeah, let me--- hey! Cay-leb!" Jester's cheeks colour in outrage at the gentle jab. "I'm a very good healer, actually. It's not my fault that normally Caduceus gets in there before I get a chance. You just watch."

 It's a little comical: Jester rising to her tiptoes to try and examine a seven foot tall firbolg who does not look at all convinced, until he concedes and kneels to let her examine his features at her own level. He actually blushes a little, which only draws more attention to how red and sore his nose looks.

"Aw, your ears are all pressed back against your head. Like a sad puppy." Jester mourns.

"They do that." Caduceus sniffles.  "Say aaah." Caduceus duly opens his mouth and gives them both a good look at his tonsils. Jester's hands wander to the side of his neck, feeling his temperature and probing for sore glands. "How do you feel?"

"Nothing serious. Tired. Throat's a little sore. Runny nose."

"Aww." Jester coos and presses a kiss to the crown of his head, into the soft pink hair. "You're sick for sure." 

"Is that your diagnosis, High Priestess Cleric?" Caleb laughs. "What about treatment?" She sighs. "Well, I didn't actually prepare any restoration spells today and I'm assuming you didn't either, Caduceus, or you'd have healed yourself already?"

 Caduceus nods and returns to standing, coughing to clear his throat. 

"That's true, though for minor illnesses my family usually just let it run its course. It builds your immune system."

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!" Caleb can only nod in agreement. "From what I understand, the theory is sound, but we may need you fighting fit at a moment's notice. Besides, I do not want to see you uncomfortable. None of us do."

That makes Caduceus smile even as he sniffles. 

Jester nods, making her mind up. "Caduceus you should go and sit down, Caleb will do the washing up and I will make hot chocolate for you."

 "I already have some tea-" He protests.

"Yes, but what you really need is hot chocolate. Cleric's orders." Jester gives him a stern look. "Do I argue with you when you're healing people?"

Before the firbolg can protest that yes, she often does, he is taken by the arm, led into the common room and pushed gently onto a sofa between Yasha and Fjord. 

"Caduceus is getting sick so everyone has to be really nice to him, okay?" Jester announces to the room at large. Beau laughs from her place beside the fire. 

"Aahh, I was considering beating him up, but it can wait."

 "I wasn't planning on being anything else?" Fjord says a beat later, bemused. 

"I will return with hot chocolate for everyone. It's medicinaaaal," Jester sings as she disappears back to the kitchen, leaving the rest of the Mighty Nein blinking in surprise and Caduceus looking embarrassed but pleased.

"Are you really sick, 'Deucey?" Veth asks cautiously.

Caduceus can only sigh and nod. The cracked edge to his voice speaks for itself so he just adds, "Just a little sniffly. Jester is determined to take very good care of me and it's in everyone's best interest to do what she wants."

"That sounds wise." Veth nods. "And hey, hot chocolate! I'm gonna put booze in mine!"

"Can I put some in mine too?" Yasha pipes up.

 This devolves into a heated discussion about whether whiskey or rum would be a better choice. Caduceus lets it wash over him and leans back onto the sofa. He does feel tired now, the joint aching tiredness that comes with a cold. His throat feels sore and hot, his sinuses full and itchy but he is too comfortable to reach for a handkerchief just at this moment.

He can feel the half-orc's body heat and is grateful for it. Without thinking leans until he rests against Fjord's shoulder, his long hair sweeping over them both like a veil. A shiver runs through him and Fjord responds by tucking an arm around him. It's really, really nice. 

He has to ruin the moment by wrenching upright to sneeze away from his friends and over his lap. 

"huhhKShh!- KKShh!- ehhKSshoo!"Ugh, he can't stop and the others paused in their conversation to stare at him. "Heh- s'cuse mbe- KKHssshhoo!" He is vaguely aware of Fjord rubbing his back as he sneezes a few more times. "Ugh. Sorry," he excuses himself and flops back into the sofa with a groan.

 Fjord is still looking at him fondly, unphased. "Can I say Wildmother bless you? Is that a thing?"

"I guess so. Thadk you, Fjord."

 At that moment Jester and Caleb reenter the living room carrying trays of steaming mugs. Jester looks positively joyful as she takes in the crackling fire, her friends gathered round and her patient resting on the sofa. Even Caleb looks somewhat at peace. Frumpkin is around his shoulders, purring. "This is nice, isn't it guys?" Jester says for all of them.

 "It really is." Caduceus says, and means it. He'd put up with a lot of sniffles for this.

[rougepetale]

Happy Birthday Shunichiro (NSFW)

Fandom: Irresistible Mistakes (Voltage Love:365)

Pairing: Shunichiro Tachibana x Reader

Note: This is gonna be a three shot. I just wanted to get this out for my bae’s birthday~

Warning: Sex

You were comfortably lying against his leg, scrolling mindlessly through your phone when you saw an advertisement for research study. “Shun look” you exclaimed. Patting his leg, to get his attention, “It's only a few cities over.” 

Shunichiro glanced down from his book to his beautiful girlfriend who was lounging on his lap, “What?” when you pointed to your phone again, he raised an eyebrow in surprise, “You want to do that?”

“Research is important.” you replied, “Plus, I am sure it will be pleasurable.”

“Fine, if you really feel that way.” he replied, reaching over and grabbing a hold of his bourbon. He knew you were watching him, and he couldn’t help but to smile into his drink. He loved you so much. 

“They have a spot open tomorrow.” you tapped away and laughed, “And there we go. We have a spot at 2 p.m.”  Shunichiro hummed his agreement. Reaching up, you grabbed his face and pulled him down for a kiss. You savored the taste on his lips. “I love you.” you finally said after parting from his lips.

Shunichiro hummed in agreement again, “I know.” his comment earned a light slap on the chest, he laughed softly, “I love you too.” he leaned down and pecked your lips. His fingers ran through your hair, he savored the silky strands that cascaded between his fingers. 

You loved it too, it was soothing. But you also loved it when he grabbed hold of your hair during sex. Just the thought of sex had your cheeks blushing, how quickly your mind went to the gutter. Shunichiro was watching you, he enjoyed watching all your emotions playing over your face. He could tell the arousal creeping into your eyes. He knew that look well. And he was ready to rise to the occasion. 

A mutual look passed between the both of you, a grin spread over your lips. Shunichiro mirrored your look. Quickly, he placed the book to the side and you placed your phone on the coffee table. Shunichiro was quick to pull you into a sitting position, his hands capturing your face as he kissed you passionately. 

You moaned into his kiss as you leaned your body into his. Quickly you crawled over his lap, one leg on either side. He kissed his way from your lips to your neck where he spent more time lavishing kisses upon the skin. Nipping at your skin he planned on leaving his mark upon you. His hands were not still as they roamed over your body, settling on gripping at your hips. Digging into your hips more like it. 

He could already feel his cock getting hard. Everything you did aroused him, making it incredibly difficult to work with you sometimes. 

Your arms draped over his shoulder as you pulled him flush against your skin. “Oh Shun” you gasp out. 

A shudder ripped through his body, he loved when you moaned his name. His name falling from your lips made him impossibly hard. His hands which we once content with resting on your hips reached for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. He already missed your warmth when you had to pull away to get the offending material away from your body. All that was left was a lacy blue bra. 

He paused, usually you wore the black lace that he had gifted to you not too long ago. “This is new.” he mused.

A blush rose again, “Yeah, I bought this last week.” suddenly you were shy, “Do you like it?” you asked in a soft voice.

The uncertainty in your voice awoke Shunichiro’s sadistic side, “I’ll decide on how easily I can rip it off your body.” 

“Wait! I just bought this!” you began to panic. You pulled away but his hands held you in place.

His lips glided down to the swell of your breasts, till they bumped up against the fabric. “Shunichiro! If you rip this off me I--” your voice shuttered when his mouth went over the fabric and to your nipple. Your hands grabbed at his clothes. He certainly knew how to steal words from your brain. 

“You’ll what?” he asked, pulling back, a wicked smirk on his lips. “You’ll moan my name like it’s the only word you will ever remember.” 

He pulled the frilly straps down one shoulder and pulled the cup down. He pinched the sensitive skin and you gasped in response. “You are so responsive.” his other hand pulled down the twin strap. His fingers wrapped around the middle of the fabric before you even knew what was happening with one mighty tug the flimsy fabric ripped from your body. 

The satisfying sound of ripping fabric had him smiling. He’d buy you a new set later. One that he wouldn’t mind ripping off your body again. “Shun! You ruined it!” you whined, a pout on your face. 

He kissed you softly, “I’ll buy you two more later.” he promised,he laid you down on the couch “Now, to get rid of those pants.” He quickly pulled your pants down, sparing your panties. Not that you’d be wearing them home anyway. You were completely naked under him as you watched him unbutton his shirt. 

He watched as you bit your lip to hold back the moan threatening to spill out. Shun always spoiled you, stripping for you was no different. If he could get you on the brink of orgasm without even touching you, even better. 

He pulled his arms free of the shirt as he tossed it over the back of a chair. Next was his belt, he pulled it slowly from its confinement, “you’re lucky I am not using this tonight. Count it as a small apology for your bra.” 

He pulled his perfectly tailored pants down his long, lean legs. His boxers were left, and they hid nothing for your imagination. The bulge was straining against the fabric. Your mouth watered. He brought himself closed to you. Immediately you sat up and hooked your fingers to the elastic band of his boxers and pulled down. You equally wanted to rip off his clothes but you weren’t strong enough. 

His cock sprang forward, pulsing and begging to be sucked. Taking the tender flesh in your hands you leaned forward and took the head into your mouth. Your tongue darted over the slit, enjoying the taste of the pre cum. You kept to the tip for now, teasing him. 

It didn’t last for long, when he grabbed your head and pushed you further down on his length. You gagged when you took most of him in your mouth. Shunichiro murmured an apology and let you come up a little. What you didn’t get in your mouth you massaged with your hands. Gingerly cupping his balls you kneaded the flesh. Shunichiro’s moans goaded you on.

Tongue tracing the vein underneath you hummed to add stimulation. The deep groan that rumbled through Shunichiro made you inwardly smile, not often did you get this much of a reaction from him. 

He reached over and pushed the panties to the side, his fingers found your core and he dove in. His fingers felt how wet you were, and he smirked, “So wet for me. I haven’t even fucked you yet.” You checked your muscles to show your appreciation. He added a second and third finger to your folds. 

Curling inside you, you couldn’t help the goosebumps nor the shudder that coursed through your body. You were so sensitive when it came to Shun, he could only look at you and you’d be a horny puddle on the floor. Pumping his fingers in and out, he loved the feeling of your walls fluttering against his digits. Pulling his fingers from your folds he put his soaked fingers in his mouth. He was just as addicted to you as you were to him. 

He didn’t want to finish in your mouth, he wanted to fill you tonight. He pulled away from you and it didn't escape his vision the pout you had. “Don’t pout,”  he mocked chastised. 

“Easier said than done Shun!” you whined. You fell backwards and sighed, “You are such a tease. It hurts now! I am aching” you confessed. 

Shunichiro smirked, kneeling over you, he grabbed his cock in his hand, “I can’t have you in pain.” he replied. Pulling your panties back to the side he guided his hard cock into your vagina. The velvet grip felt amazing. 

He sunk till his balls hit your skin. Stilling, he enjoyed the feeling of your body adjusting to him. He rubbed your clit ever so gently, teasing you. “S-Shun! Harder!” you begged, Bucking your hips to create friction. 

He shushed you, “So needy!” removing his fingers, “You just want to cum that bad?” he asked. He enjoyed how quickly you nodded, “You need my cock that bad?” you nodded fervently again. Shunichiro smirked, he loved when you were this needy for him. He pulled back till only the head was barely inside before he slammed back in. 

You screamed in pleasure. Your hands flew up to grab at his body. You clung to him as he plowed into you. Your head was thrown back in pleasure as you cried out his name. It was true, when he fucked you, his name was the only one you could remember. Shunichiro watched you as you came undone. You were so beautiful when you were on the brink of orgasm. 

He bent down and latched to your neck. Biting down, he intended on leaving a mark. He took delight in knowing that you would have to cover up the bruise with makeup. Your fingers threaded through his hair, mildly paying attention that the strands were silky soft. You pulled him up to your face where you kissed him passionately. 

He bit down on your lip, demanding access. You freely gave it, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He held you close as you bucked your hips against his, creating a most delicious friction. The kiss drowned out any gasps you may have made, swallowed by his mouth. 

You were so aroused that you didn’t last long. Your orgasm had hit you hard, so hard that you saw stars. Your pussy clenched down hard on Shunichiro’s cock. Shunichiro quickly followed after you, filling you to the brim with his cum. Shunichiro didn’t want to pull out just yet, he was comfortable being so intimately connected. He shallowly thrusted against you, until even the strength in his arms and collapsed on top of you. “Fuck, you were beautiful” he commented while he peppered kisses upon your chest. He loved how you chuckled, he nuzzled against your chest, feeling your rapidly beating heart.

“I love you, Shun” you sighed against him, you already lamented the loss of contact when Shun pulled out from you, placing the panties back. He laid behind you, pulling you to his chest. He nuzzled against your shoulder as he nipped softly.

“I love you too,” he rubbed soothing circles on your stomach, dipping further down to your clothed clit. You gasped, “Don’t worry I won't push you. We need to sleep in order to make it on time for your research study.” he rubbed your clit a little harder, “But that won't stop me from messing with you tonight.”

“You scoundrel.” you whined. 

“Your scoundrel.”

[zombiejoepino]

Chapter 7: The Fight (Cobb Vanth x OC fic)

Author's note: Thank you for taking the time to read this. I apologize for the long break but you know how it is with the creative process. The end is getting closer so I hope you enjoy this chapter. No pictures this time.

Word count: 4227 words

Genre: Adventure/Action/Western

Warning: angst

The dawn breaks on the dune sea, making its way for the twins. The sky is yellow, purple, and tiny traces of dark blue. Creatures run around the dusty land, chasing each other, jumping playfully until a bigger one snatches them to eat.

A blur scavenger pilots the sleek speeder gracefully across the vast wasteland, heading towards the rocky canyons. Space gets smaller at every turn but, the rider is precise with its movements. The masked figure turns its head for a moment to look at what’s coming right behind her.

The yellowish cruiser follows the rider with the same speed, making a few turns to keep going between the small spaces and fit the large structure.

The hooded figure keeps the attention back on the road and detours into a cave, impossible for the cruiser to fit in. The armored rider curses and turns around to look for another path.

Into the dark caves, the masked rider avoids all kinds of rocky structures, making sure not to crash with stones or creatures like the sleeping lizard that noticed her and roars at her. She turns before hitting the lizard and keeps moving into the darkness, looking for the end of the tunnel at some point.

She looks behind her and, with no trace of the yellow cruiser, she smiles to herself heading towards the light but, a large scaly tail hits the back of her speeder and makes her spin. She clenches it to keep balance and tries to slow down to stop spinning. The speeder wobbles and, it finally stops making her lose her balance for a moment.

Nath takes a deep breath and hears the roar. She comes out full speed and takes off into the dunes. Her hand reaches the mask and lowers it a bit to take a deep breath. The redhead licks her dry lips and smiles to herself.

“I lost him,” she thought until she picks on the peculiar sound and looks right behind her.

The Marshal flashed his pearly smile at her and waves. “What took you so long?” He yells, moving towards her. The redhead finally stops the speeder and gives him a look.

“How?” She throws her arms in the air. “There´s no way you got into that cave!”

“There are other ways to cross the canyon, princess. You just took the most difficult one.” He smirked.

“And it has nothing to do with the speed improvements I made for your cruiser?” She rests her hands on her hips and raises a brow.

Cobb shrugs and chuckles. “Ok, maybe that helped too. You wanted me to test it.” He hopped off the cruiser and moved towards her. “Did you bring the charges?”

“I set them already. Marc has the rest but he went north, just in case they wanna show up from there.”

“Which I doubt cause that’s sand people’s territory and there are only two ways that might end. You can’t reason with those monsters.” Cobb said.

“Neither you can’t reason with Qod. Before you call to pull out your blaster, he will stab you.” She explained while unloading her bag with rounded objects, the smoke bombs.

From high on a rock mesa, two more speeders can be seen gliding across the desert floor, approaching the couple. it is Marc, Triggar, his wife Kyranj, two more villagers, and a rusty R2 unit. Marc was carrying a large bag with charges and was followed by the droid. He waved at them and smiled.

“Marshal, Nath, we set the rest near the Valley. No sign of the sand people. Maybe the dragon scared them.” The young rider sets down the bag and addresses the droid. “Show them the map, R6.”

The rusted unit beeped and displayed a small hologram of the sandy area.

“We gotta keep a large distance between each charge so they can set up together once they pass around them,” Marc explained and placed the large smoke bomb on the ground.

“Are you sure that’s gonna work? What if it's a Jawa step on it by mistake?” Triggar asked.

“Nathsca and I modified these. She said she did this before.” Marc explained. “They normally work if something steps over them, but in this case, we add a small device that picks on movement.”

“So, whatever tremor over the average is detected, they will activate. It can be either a bunch of speeders or the Dragon. Whatever it is, we will know before they arrive.” The redhead added.

“If they come,” Triggar said.

“They will come,” Cobb spoke and looked back at Nath, that nodded in agreement.

“With Plog or not, Qod is very methodic. He will search around all area if it's necessary just to find us. That’s why we have to be ready.”

“So, once you place the charges, be careful with your feet and speeders, we don’t wanna set these off and let the Tusken Raiders find us,” Marc explained.

Cobb carried the bag with the charges and was followed by Marc and Trigger. The other two villagers carried the large smoke bomb and followed the trio.

Both women stayed together to place the smaller ones right outside the canyon. Nath used her bare hands to dig a small hole to place the first device that was carefully handed back by Kyranj.

“Have you done this before?” Nath asked.

“I used to work in the mines when I was about your age. We used these just to let others know if the area was safe or not.” The older brunette smiled.

“And how did you ended up in Mos Pelgo?”

“Between all political conflicts, battles and all, the Empire kinda left the slave camp. We fought and got ourselves free.”

“You all know each other for a long time, huh?” Nath covered the rest on the bomb with the sand and moved some feet away to dig the next one.

“We all come from different slave camps looking for refugees and any area away from the Empire or the Hutts. Anywhere just to be free. The Marshal knew of this abandoned town and we just followed him.” Kyranj set up the next bomb, right under the rocks.

“So you just chose him to be the Marshal?” Nath asked.

“Yes, he is a good leader and shooter.” The brunette smiled.

“Yeah, I guess.” Nath nodded. “Just not when he is wounded and being stubborn.” She muttered.

“What about you? Are you sure you are not royalty or something?” Kyranj asked and smiled at her. “I can’t understand why a bunch of pirates are after you.”

“Well, this is personal for Qod. He wants to find me and kill me just to make a point.” She digs into the sand to bury the small bomb. “And he is good at finding people. He did it for a long time for the Empire.”

“Sounds to me like an angry ex,” Kyranj said.

“Well, you are not wrong about that. He was my… let’s say he is very possessive. He fired a Mon Calamari once just for talking to me. It took me a while to make him understand he was there to fix his cruiser, but Qod didn’t care about that and still got mad at me.” She explained.

“Did you even liked him?” Kyranj asked.

Nath shrugged and chuckled. “I know the normal thing to do would be falling in love and all. When I met him, I was afraid of him. I thought he was going to shoot me for stealing from him but he didn’t do anything. He gave me a long stare and asked me to be part of his crew.

At that moment, I felt important. I had no one else, no family or friends so, he made me his woman even though he is way older. It was nice to be something to someone, but, I never thought he was that bad and I didn’t mind when he dragged me into his criminal crew cause I was tired of my planet, I needed to get out and we kinda used each other.” She paused.

“Then he got possessive and you can figure out the rest. I keep having nightmares about him.”

“And how do you cope with that?”

“Not sleeping but since I got here I’ve been able to sleep better even if I'm stressed.”

“I suppose the stress drains you, even from your nightmares. Or maybe it's because you're staying with The Marshal.” She smiled at Nath.

“What?” She laughs and shakes her head.

“Think about it. He is an honest man and makes you feel safe. He has no shady intentions and keeps his word on protecting others. Dunno, I thought you two had a thing.”

“What thing? He is … he just let me stay there.” The redhead rolled her eyes.

“There are rumors.” The brunette teases. “There´s nothing wrong with liking Marshal Vanth. He seems to like you.”

“But I'm not sure if I like him.” The redhead shrugged.

“You are not sure or you don’t want to admit it?”

Nath was about to say something but she noticed the men approaching them. Both of them rushed to stand up and joined the group.

“We covered the area, so, it's time to move,” Cobb said. “Might be a day or two before they come. I dunno if they are using their ship or speeders to show up. I´ll take my chances on the speeders.” He paused and looked back at the redhead. “What do you think, Roznev?”

Nath just gave him a slight nod. “Expect anything from him.”

The cruisers and speeders took off across the mighty dunes. The young redhead was having second thoughts about this situation. Even though the town was willing to fight back, Nath knew Qod and his ruthless men.

After the last job and getting a bit paranoid, the crew got way smaller. Some members went missing or were found dead without explanation, but Nath knew that Qod was behind it. He was taking down all members from that last mission and putting together a new crew. Now, she regretted running away from him cause that would give him enough reasons to believe she was the traitor. She panicked, escaped, and dragged all these people into her mess.

The Marshal noticed her getting lost in thoughts. He knew that look.

…

Mos Espa. Morning.

Anyone that walked by the Sullustan shop got curious about the large rounded structure and peculiar wings. Some of them still remember when the TIEs flew around the large dunes, making flying tests near the Valley that would scare the Sandpeople or other creatures.

Unlike Hutts that killed creatures for fun, the Empire was more practical and blew up full caves with Tusken Raiders or even a Sandcrawler.

They didn’t like anyone with shady operations and if these hooded creatures denied joining them, it was easier to take them out. Eventually, the Empire's influence lowered they abandoned the planet, letting the Hutts take over once more.

Whatever the Empire left of equipment, ships, anything useful, was sold around in the black market. If you were able to find the proper Sandcrawler, the Jawas might show you the real goods but only to locals or regular customers.

No matter how long he spoke and tried to make them give away the goods, the Jawas never gave away full information of their goods.

The nervous Sullustan kept talking with them about the pieces and the Jawas shook their heads.

“But this would be enough” He chatted with the tiny figures that took the bag with credits and then tossed it away shaking their heads.

Some started to pull other used pieces for the ship but the Sullustan shook his head. He felt the zabrak's eyes over the back of his head and showed the piece on his holster. He gave him a helpless look.

“They don’t have imperial parts and none of them are good enough for the Captain´s ship.”

The zabrak gave him a look and covered the holster with his long tunic. He showed his toothy smile at him.

“Then, keep looking. The Captain expects you to put together that ship before he comes back.”

…

The dune sea.

A large cruiser zoomed across the sandy area, followed by 3 smaller speeders. The main rider kept his eyes front the whole time, clenching his fists into the handlebars. Qod was done relying on others to catch the woman. He knew her, she was always a slippery one but this time she got too lucky; A Mandalorian was guarding her. She probably used the gems to buy the protection, so talking to the bounty hunter would be useless, he thought.

The first time he saw Nathsca, she was just a lost child who dared to steal from him. In a normal situation, he would shoot down whoever tries it, but this girl was special, Qod saw her potential. It was easy to manipulate, didn’t require much care but he made a big mistake; he underestimates her.

It didn’t bother him that she decided to leave and cut all ties from him, the problem was that she stole from him again. She spoiled a simple deal with those slave traders and his weapons. Rumors started to spread about him, about how a simple scavenger fooled the ex-imperial pilot. He couldn’t allow that.

He decided that Nathsca deserved to die. He would find another girl for the traders, but he wanted to be there to finish all. His heart started to rose when he thought about it. A slow and painful death. He didn’t need a blaster to do it. His bare hands would be enough to snap the slim neck, to feel her helpless fists trying to fight back and feel the last gasp.

He never took pleasure in killing a woman, but she deserved his whole attention.

His thoughts snapped when he noticed something ahead. The cruiser stopped and he made a signal to make the crew stop.

One of his men, the masked Chiss, jumped off his speeder and took out the binoculars to picture the moving shape. It was a loose Bantha and the body of a dead farmer. He quickly turned back to the Captain.

“Tusken Raiders.”

“Are you sure?” The Captain asked.

“Looks like it. I think we should find another way to cross the Valley.”

Qod remained calm but he hated these kinds of delays. He wouldn’t mind shooting down the sand people, but those creatures always came in larger groups. Even with his skills and his companions, they wouldn’t be enough to defeat the monsters.

The cruiser and the speeders took off from the area, heading south. Circling the Valley was their only choice. It would take them another day to arrive at the dead mining place.

From the distance, a small group of Tusken Raiders observed the strangers. They stood tall and proud now that invaders were gone.

…

Mos Pelgo

Farmers and all villagers were moving around the dusty town. The town’s foundation is based on fighting back for their right to freedom. They never had a peaceful time at all. One day it was the Dragon eating the Banthas, the next day would be the Tusken Raiders stealing their water, or, a new mining company wanting to control everything. So, expecting a bunch of pirates was not that bad.

All former slaves knew how to handle a weapon when it was necessary. Not everyone had an accurate shot, but just enough to scare invaders away. Some of them gather around to practice their close-range shooting and others were around the canyons to practice long-range shooting.

The Marshal was practicing too, even though he was still recovering from the last battle. A normal pull worked as usual but he was still struggling with the cross pull, yet, he could move better than before and feel no pain. He smiled to himself when he got 2 perfect shots in a row of cross pulling.

He looked around the other shooters and everyone getting ready but his eyes scanned the area looking for someone in particular. Even though they didn’t know each other that much, Vanth made up his mind about the young scavenger. He likes her. That’s all. He tried to be forward about it but she keeps running away. He even started to wonder if it was cause he was too old. Maybe if he was a few years younger, it would be a different story.

Vanth never had time for distractions and never allowed himself to them. Of course, there were some women in his past but all of them were different from each other and Nathsca was not an exception.

For a start, she is a beauty and, he could keep going about her physical features, but he needed to focus. Her strong attitude didn't bother him, most likely, he found it appealing. What worried him about her was that she is hiding something all the time.

The footsteps interrupted his thoughts when he saw a familiar face walking towards him. It was the young Marc.

“Hey Marshal” the young one flashed a smile. “I was hoping to check the whole plan again with you and Nathsca, but I haven’t seen her around, I thought you might know.”

“Isn't it she in the school or with Kyranj?” The Marshal said.

“No, I asked everyone and no one has seen her around.”

Cobb frowned, kept his blaster back in the holster, and rushed back to his place. The rooms were empty, the canister was no longer in the pantry, one of his blasters was missing and whatever belonging she had, they were missing too. He took a deep breath and felt that sting in his chest.

Marc followed him and looked around making a face. “Do you think someone took her?”

Cobb just shook his head and huffed.

“Uhm, I dunno if it seems important but she seemed kinda interested in the west.”

“West?”

“Yeah, before we discuss the whole plan, she came to me and asked me about the map. She seemed pretty interested in the west area. I read that there’s was some old spaceport around there during the pre-empire times.”

…

The roar was heard in the canyons when the bike zoomed across it. The masked rider's hands were clenching the handlebars, her eyes remained front the whole time but her mind was drifting away.

The whole village was ready to fight the intruders if they ever show up at some point. Nath tried to make up her mind and beg the Marshal to stop the plan, but he was determined to fight for her.

She knew that they could be smarter than the Captain but there was still that voice in her head that kept pushing her to run away, but this time it was not clear with its intentions. The first time, she ran off because of fear, this time her fear was different.

For the past few days, she started to embrace the idea that maybe there was a chance for her to have a proper home, friends, and why not someone that might care for her. There were also those mixed feelings about the Marshal. She didn’t want to admit the obvious and that scared her.

What if you run away before you admit it? What if you run before you lose him?

She tried to kick the ideas away but that loner role didn’t fit her anymore. They knew a lot about each other, they kept learning from their body language, and those nights at his place, the tension was palpable that he even noticed it too. Before anything happened, Vanth started his night shifts again just to leave her alone.

Those nights, an idea built upon her mind. She needed a plan B just in case things went south. If the whole conflict started for the gems, then she needed to hide them better or worst, get rid of them.

She started to talk with Marc during the daytime, letting him show her his inventions and whatever junk he had until she found what she wanted: the map in the R2 unit.

They started to talk about the whole west area, the unexplored one, the sand people territory, and such. Nath did her best to drag her attention into building the bombs to scare the invaders but her mind was busy with the side project.

Vanth mentioned to her once that if she was not careful, she would take the wrong step and fall into a Sarlacc pit, since they are pretty common in the dunes. Nath had to find the pit and hide the gems there. Whoever tried to reach them, would have to face death first.

Now the tricky part was finding the Sarlacc and telling Vanth about it was not an option. She needed to do this by herself.

Her ideas cut off when the yellow cruiser cut her way right at the end of the canyon. Nath did her best to maneuver the bike and not crash with him. She stopped right away and finally looked up to face the armored rider.

Vanth had this look on his face that she couldn’t place if it was anger or something else. They remained silent for a moment before she said something.

“What are you doing?”

“I was about to ask you the same, Roznev.” He said, keeping the intense and serious stare.

“Well, you almost crashed with me.” She huffed in anger and jumped off the bike.

“That´s not the point.” He jumped off the cruiser and walked towards her.

“No? What if I get hurt again?” She growled.

“Why are you running away with the gems?”

Nath tried to say something and looked at him. “It´s not…”

“Then explain yourself, cause it's not the first time you lie or hide things from me.” His voice was different from her. Cold, distant, a little rude too.

“Cobb…” she tried to talk.

“I'm Marshal to you.” He cut her again. “You come to my town, put my people under risk, and for what? So you can escape and leave them behind?” He chuckled.

“What are you even talking about?” She gave him a look. “I was coming back later.”

“It didn’t look like it and you keep forgetting that I know these dunes better than you. So, we can do this in two ways. Come with me and I will take you with the New Republic authorities or…” His hand was near the blaster.

Nath couldn’t believe any word he was saying. What got into him? A few hours ago he was all smiley at her.

“I haven’t done anything. Why are you acting like that?” She yelled and walked towards him but stop when she realized that he kept his hand on the blaster.

“Right there is good.” He said but the girl started to move again.

“Marshal, please, let’s talk.”

“If you wanna say something you can say it from right there. I can hear you.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “So, that’s it? You suddenly believe whatever got into your mind and ignore the times I was by myself but didn’t run away?”

“Maybe you were waiting for the right time and let us deal with your partners.” He gave her a look but his hand remains near the holster.

Nath felt her body a little shaky, she was squeezing her fists and couldn’t believe what was happening.

“You know that’s a lie.”

“Is it?” He kept the hazel ones on her.

Nath took a deep breath and felt her eyes getting teary from frustration and something else. All those days talking, knowing each other, apparently, it all disappeared until something click on her. Trust, she just broke Vanth´s trust with this, but she didn’t want to risk him more. She had a lot to say but couldn’t place the words.

She needed to do something and started to walk towards him, keeping her gaze upon him.

“Roznev, Im warning you.”

She didn’t care and kept moving.

For the first time in his life, Vanth froze. In another situation, he wouldn’t hesitate and put a criminal down, but he was having second thoughts. Even though the girl lied to him many times, those feelings were jumping around his head, messing up his judgment towards her.

He needed to act, but, before he moved his hand, he felt her small palm across his face.

Slap.

He took a deep breath and faced her again. She was shaking, her eyes got red and, tears were running down her cheeks.

The woman rose her hand once more to smack him but this time he stopped her hand. Nath used her free hand and he stopped it too, overpowering her a little. She pushed and tried to wiggle out but, she gave up easily, keeping an intense stare at each other.

He was annoyed, she was hurt but, he noticed that her expression softens for a moment. That caught him off guard.

The space between them got smaller and, the first thing that crossed her mind was to lean forward and headbutt him, instead, her lips crushed his. She would expect them to be dry or chapped but, they were pretty soft.

Cobb didn’t think much and gave in to the kiss, their mouth synchronizing, his whiskers brushing the sides on her mouth, tasting her luscious lips.

The grip from his hands disappeared and, they interwind their fingers as they gave in to it, ignoring whatever was around them, until, they were interrupted when the explosion roared in the dunes.

They quickly back off from each other. Cobb looked at Nath and rushed to his cruiser. “Go back to town, now.” He yelled.

“No, that was not supposed to happen, Marshal. I´m coming with you.” She frowned

.

[dailyaudiobible]

04/27/2021 DAb Transcript

Judges 7:1-8:17, Luke 23:13-43, Psalms 97:1-98:9, Proverbs 14:7-8

Today is the 27th day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great to be here with you today a little later than usual. Now for…most everybody's probably not going to notice that this is a little bit late but those of you in the UK for sure will and those of you early risers on the East Coast will. We’re in the 4 o'clock hour this morning and we've been up all night. We’re late a little bit because…well…China went into labor and she's been in labor all the way around the clock and she has successfully delivered a baby girl that is pretty much as all newborns are, perfect. And once we knew for sure she was in labor and was going to give birth at some point in the night then we’ve been waiting to make this announcement. So, China has had her baby daughter, our granddaughter. I don't know the weight yet or the length yet. She was born at 4:14 this morning. And we’re gonna have this news out within the hour, the hour of her birth. So, we’ve been…we’ve been keeping vigil. Jill has been with China the whole way here as has Ben of course. And they have decided to name this little girl Reagan Brave Brown and she is a brave little daughter of the king. She's our little Reagan the Brave and everybody is safe and sound and exhausted and a full of adrenaline and I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet. I think there’s water boiling in the background here. Just trying to be able to make this announcement. So, I'm sure before the days out we’ll have pictures posted and the details given. But there’s a new daily audio baby and her name is Reagan and she's eating and she’s sleeping, and we haven't even…she hasn’t even been weighed yet, but we didn’t want to wait a whole day to tell everybody. So, this is the good news. All is well, the baby has been born, everyone is safe. And, so, let's…let's now do what we have come here to do and read the Scriptures. And today we read in honor of Reagan the Brave who was born April 27, 2021. Okay. So, yesterday we were introduced to a man named Gideon in the Old Testament in the book of Judges. Gideon becomes one of the judges of Israel and we will continue with his story today. We’re reading from the Good News Translation this week. Judges 7:1 through 8:17.

Commentary:

Okay. So, today in the book of Judges the…the battle for which Gideon was called that was waged today. Although Gideon for his part, he had an army of 32,000 people but ended up confronting the enemy with only 300 people as God whittled down the army so that basically so that Gideon's early on question could be answered. Gideon early on in this story was asking the angel of the Lord, “where is this mighty God that did things that we've heard of from our ancestors, the great things of old?” God was inviting Gideon into one of those stories. And, so, a 300-person army confronted essentially three different armies who had banded together to raid and pillage and destroy. And it's interesting to see Gideon's confidence grow. At first, he’s like, “where is the God that did great things”, right? And then it…it went to, “Oh, the God who did great things is right here in front of me and I have borne witness to this. Am I gonna die?” It went from that to, “if you are truly calling me will you just give me confidence through this sign with dew? Can there be dew on this cloth, but not on the ground?” And then he did it the next day. “Can there be due on the ground but not on this cloth?” After that we don't really see Gideon confused anymore about who he’s following so when this 32,000-person army gets whittled down to 300 Gideon remains confident in the Lord. And let's be honest, 32,000 people, that’s a lot of people. If you’re going confront another army that's a lot of people depending on how many people they've got. But if they have an army that’s like covering the ground like locusts and their camels are as many as the sands on the seashore, that's all a lot of people. So, 300 looks more like a suicide mission than a confrontation with an enemy army. But the Lord had come before them and actually did what He said He was going to do, and the Israelites were set free. We’re not done with Gideon's story. There’s actually a dark chapter in the story to come before us, but it gives us a real sense of the times, times of the judges. So, the tribes of Israel have settled. This is a tribal time. They are tribes of Israel. And as we began the book of Judges, we were told that everyone was doing what they…whatever they thought was right in their own eyes. And we’ll get some glimpses of the different things that that can look like as we continue the journey through the book of Judges.

In the book of Luke today for the third time this year we have encountered the story of Jesus death. This, His trial and execution. And today we read of His crucifixion and that He hung there in agony and…and took more and more verbal abuse, even as He was dying. And in the face of that He displayed forgiveness, which…which really is the centerpiece isn’t it, that God would forgive us and welcome us into his family. And I know, we…we…we celebrated Easter just a few weeks ago. So, this is reasonably fresh in our mind. And we might even think, “yeh. We just made a big to do of that just a couple weeks ago when we were moving through holy week and celebrating Easter. There's just never a wrong time to meditate upon this though, to consider what kind of love we’re talking about because that's the kind of love that can change the world, that's the kind of love that conquers all according to the Scriptures. So, it's important that we give some time today to just meditate upon the sacrifice of Jesus. We will…well…I mean we…we’ve read through that story, that part of the story three times now - Matthew Mark and Luke - and these are the synoptic Gospels. We only have one gospel left after this, the gospel of John. We will only encounter this story one more time during this year. And, so, it's always important to just slow things down and become very grateful for what we have because we have been rescued.

Prayer:

Jesus is impossible to use words whether there roughly hewn or whether there just beautifully ornate words. There are no words that actually can add up to the description of what You've done for us. And, so, it would be maybe easier for us to just stay here in silence just in attitude that is grateful from the bottom of our hearts. And we plan to do today, just spend some time thinking this through and being in a space of gratitude and silence before You, thanking You, thanking You, knowing that our words fall short. And, so, we stand before You silent, not because we can’t find words to say but because this is the most honest thing we can do, present ourselves before You without a bunch of explanation. We are here and we are here because You saved us, and we are grateful, and we are expressing that. And, so, come Holy Spirit into this we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it’s the website, its where you find out what's going on around here.

What’s going on around here right now is Reagan's birth and we will work to get pictures, all…all of that. We’re like really delirious, kind of right now we’re really focused on what we’re doing and one foot in front of the other. That's kinda how it gets when there's a severe lack of sleep going on but we’ll definitely…we’ll deftly get the word out on social media as soon as…as soon as China says we can. And we’ve had a running…how long…how long will this baby be, what will this baby's birthday be, what will the baby weigh…in our family for a long time…so we don't even know who’s going to win that one. We’ll post that stuff too as soon as we…as soon as we know. But we couldn’t wait any longer, wanted to get the news out and literally you’re hearing this within the hour of her birth. So, thank you for your prayers over everything that goes into bringing a new baby into the world over this little family, over her mommy and her healing, over this little girl who has had to trust and be thrust into a whole new existence that she’s never known before. And she's been experiencing it for less than an hour, so she's safe with her mommy and she knows that, and she knows the voice of her father. And this is a good place to start. So, thank you for your prayers.

That's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi this is Jackie from Oregon I called to pray for Honeybee from Louisiana who's had twenty eye surgeries. I feel in my spirit the need to pray for you. Just talking on this podcast, I know God has a way of healing. I know it's come to a place where that's your only option and I really pray very hard for you in the name of Jesus that this eye be completely healed and restored. I know Jesus can do it. I know it's up to him. And I pray for that to happen. Thank you.

Hey, this call is for honeybee from Louisiana. Your call played today Thursday April 22nd and right away you caught my attention honeybee because my name is Melissa and that means honeybee. And, so, I have another friend who is also named Melissa and we call each other honeybee. So, right away you had my attention. But just listening to your request for your eyes for your site for the multiple surgeries you've endured and just the difficult spot you're at, I just want you to know that I…I’m praying for you now and I will continue to pray for you as the Holy Spirit brings you to my mind. And I'm just praying for God to do a miracle. I just kept thinking of the story of Jesus healing the blind men, how He just did it in different ways. You know, all the stories of the blind men healed in the Bible, they’re done differently. And He heals differently but He does heal. He's got the power to do that. And while you're waiting for that healing, I'm just praying for the peace of the Holy Spirit to surround you and encourage you. Be encouraged and blessed my sister, my fellow honeybee.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this is Tony the truck driver. I haven't called in in probably two or three years, but I still listen every day and support in partnership with the DAB. And today I just called with a heavy heart. One of my fellow truck drivers at my job was tragically killed today. Just pumping fuel in his truck, a guy came and just shot him for no reason and then took his own life. His name was Raymond Ramirez. He’s from Allentown PA. He leaves behind a wife and three young children. So, I’ve just been in prayer for him and his family…for his family all day. Everybody at the job has a heavy heart. So, I’m just asking you family to pray for his family. Just pray for the peace that Christ can give him…give his family Lord and that they would…He would just be with him, be with their family in this time, that they would have the peace that surpasses all understanding our Lord and saver can give. Thank you, family. Love you. Still listening. I'm definitely gonna try to call more often. Blind Tony I heard you one day still talk…shouting out me and my son AJ. He's doing great. He's actually gonna be 20 in a week or so. So, thank you for all you guys prayers. I'll be talking to you. God bless.

Hi, Olivia this is Dawn Rising in Michigan. I'm so glad you're in our community now and I just wanted to pray for you in your situation. I know it can be very confusing when you love somebody. You wanted to hear from people. So, I took that as an open invitation to give my opinion. I too was in an unequally yoked relationship for three years and I loved the person, but God gave me the foresight to be able to think of ahead of my current situation and how I wanted to raise my children and it didn't match up with the person that I was with. So, you know, if you want to look forward into your life and see how your life goals and how God's will for you could be obtained with the current person. So, just take a look at that and if, you know, and look into his heart and if there's room for change, but don't yoke yourself to somebody, you know, that will not want to change because it will be forever an uphill battle. And, you know, it'll be like the idols in…with the Canaanites. You'll be tempted to sway his way unfortunately. So, anyway, praying for you my friend and it's…it's not easy and I…I don't envy your situation because I've been in it. Anyway, we love you. We’ll pray for you.

Hi guys my name is Kimmy I'm calling in because Olivia from New Mexico, I'm sorry if I did not pronounce that right, your ask for prayer really, really spoke to me as my best friend of two…just broke up with her boyfriend of two years because they were unequally yoked. And, so, your stories were similar, and I just wanted to encourage you to continue to pursue the Lord and just pray, be in constant prayer to know what to do. But I wanted to encourage you with the words that my best friend had spoken to me was that she broke up with her boyfriend not out of a lack of love for him but out of a greater love for the Lord. And, so, whatever the will of the Lord is, I think being open and willing to hear it and to obey it is really important and I'll be praying for you no matter what the Lord…no matter what you decide to do. But I wanted to read to you Philippians 3 versus 7 through 11 which says, “but whatever gain I had I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as lost because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and may share His sufferings becoming like Him __ that by any means possible I may obtain the resurrection from the dead. I hope this has been an encouragement. And yeah, just keep pursuing the Lord. Be in constant prayer to know what to do because He's right there with you and He holds your heart in His hands and I’m praying for you.

Hi, I'm Ethan from Indiana and I just wanted to say thank you guys for doing this. And it really helps me because I can listen to the Bible while I'm in the shower or something like that and I can listen to the word of God. Thank you for everything. And I just pray that you guys are…have a blessed life and I pray that you guys have great days while you guys are in...

[queen-of-deans-booty]

99 Problems: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,037

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Dean never came back until early the next morning. You were afraid he died or had gotten seriously hurt when he stumbled into the motel room with blood all over his hands.

“What the hell, are you okay?” you ask as you check for signs of injury.

“I’m fine. It’s—it’s not my blood. Paul’s dead.”

“What?!” Sam gasps.

“Jane shot him.”

“It’s starting,” Castiel comments from the couch.

No matter how much water you gave him last night, he still is a little bit wasted.

“What’s starting? Where the hell have you been?”

“On a bender.”

“Did he—did you say ‘on a bender’?”

“Yeah. He’s still pretty wasted,” you wave it off.

“It is not of import. We need to talk about what’s happening here.”

“I’m all ears,” Dean says and washes the blood off his hands.

“Well, for starters, Leah is not a real prophet,” you reveal.

“Well, what is she, exactly?” the elder brother asks as he wipes his hands and takes a seat by the coffee table.

“The whore,” the angel says.

“Wow. Cas, tell us what you really think.”

“She rises when Lucifer walks the earth. ‘And she shall come, bearing false prophecy’,” he reads from the book in front of him. “This creature has the power to take a human’s form and read minds. Book of Revelation calls her ‘the Whore of Babylon’.”

“The real Leah was probably killed months ago,” you sigh.

“What about the demons attacking the town?” Dean asks.

“They’re under her control.”

“And the Enochian exorcism?”

“Fake. It actually means, ‘you, um, breed with the mouth of a goat’,” he snickers. No one else is laughing, and he immediately stops. “It’s funnier in Enochian.”

“So the demons smoking out is just a con? Why? What’s the endgame?”

“What you just saw—innocent blood spilled in God’s name.”

“You heard all that heaven talk. She manipulates people,” Sam sighs.

“To slaughter and kill and sing preppy little hymns. Awesome,” Dean scoffs.

“Her goal is to condemn as many souls to hell as possible. And it’s just beginning. She’s well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit.”

“Alright. Then, how do we go Pimp of Babylon all over this bitch?”

“I got just the thing. Wait here,” Castiel leaves without warning.

He comes back seconds later with a stake and sets it on the table.

“The whore can be killed with that. It’s a stake made from a cypress tree in Babylon.”

“Great. Let’s ventilate her,” Dean smiles.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course, it isn’t,” you sigh.

“The whore can only be killed by a true Servant of Heaven.”

“Servant like—”

“Not you,” the angel cuts off your boyfriend. “Or me. Sam, of course, is an abomination. We’ll have to find someone else.”

“What about me? I don’t want to bring this up and sound like a bitch, but I didn’t domino the 66 seals. I’ve never sold my soul. I never went to hell. I didn’t unlock Lucifer or start the apocalypse or was hopped up on demon blood. I’m a light witch, the purest one. I may be Amara’s vessel, but I haven’t done anything to warrant otherwise.”

“She’s right,” Castiel comments.

“Cheap shot,” Dean mutters. “But true.”

“Great, I’ll kill her. But we need to get past her dad first.”

“I’ll go get him,” the angel offers and disappears once more.

“You know, you didn’t have to go there,” Dean mutters.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” you sigh.

“Yeah, you seem to do a lot of that nowadays,” Sam adds.

You’re about to say something when Castiel returns with Pastor Gideon. He seems spooked that he hitched a ride with an angel, but you can tell he’s one of the good ones.

“What the hell was that?”

“Yeah, he wasn’t lying about the angel thing,” Dean says because he already knows what Castiel might have said to him. “Have a seat, Padre. We got to have a chat.”

It wasn’t easy to have that conversation with a grieving man, but when the story is done, he stares at the stake in your hands with discomfort.

“No. She’s my daughter.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s not. She’s the thing that killed your daughter,” you put softly.

“That’s impossible.”

“But it’s true, and deep down, you know it. Look, we get it—it’s too much. But if you don’t do this, she’s going to kill a lot of people. And damn the rest to hell.”

“It’s just… why me? Why did you tell me this?”

“She trusts you. We need you to get her alone so I can kill her.”

Leah is up to something, but you can’t focus on what she’s doing right now. The only thing you need to do right now is to kill her with this damn stake. Then, you can go back to the motel and finally tell Dean what you’ve been keeping from him for weeks now. Leah strays from the group and goes to the office which gives you a perfect chance to get her. Everyone knew what they wanted to do, and even though her father didn’t need to be there, he wanted to.

She enters the office and checks herself out in the mirror. Peeking around the corner, you saw her face change from what she normally looks like to this god-awful monster with a gaping mouth. She chuckles and closes the closet door where Castiel is waiting. She gasps, he grabs her, and turns her around. He keeps her close to his body so you have your chance at killing her.

You rush into the room with the stake in your hand. She realizes she needs to get out of this or else she’s dead. She chants something in Enochian which causes Castiel a great amount of pain. He lets her go, and she uses her powers to throw both brothers against the wall. She does this to her own dad before turning to you. She goes to use her powers, but she only manages to knock the stake out of your hand.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” your eyes turn blue, “try harder.”

She takes the shot and punches you square in the jaw, causing you to crumble to the ground. She takes off running into some other room, and your magic works on the bruise you know will show up later and grab the stake. Sam, Dean, and Gideon have no choice but to leave Castiel writhing in pain on the floor.

“Help me! She’s a demon!” Leah yells as soon as she enters.

You rush into the room only to be greeted with angry townsfolk. They go to punch and restrain you, and the stake is knocked to the ground. Sam, Dean, and Gideon enter the room to help fight so you can get to Leah. Rob has clear instructions to light the kerosene in front of a closet door where you can hear the people locked inside begging to be let out. Sam rushes over to him and takes care of him while Dean and Gideon fight off the men in your way.

Because you’re so preoccupied, Leah manages to use her powers on you which knocks you to the ground. Your eyes shine brighter than they have before, but there is too much on your mind to muster up enough power to get out of her grasp. She pounces on your body and grabs your throat, squeezing to cut off your air supply. It’s hard to concentrate, but you extend your arm to the stake that lays nearby. If you can only grab it, then you can kill her.

“Please. Like you’re a servant of Heaven,” she scoffs when she sees you reach for the stake.

She doesn’t do anything to stop you because she wholeheartedly believes you are not a servant. No matter what, you can’t give up now.

“You’re the great and mighty vessel for Amara? You’re pathetic! Would a servant of Heaven get pregnant and then kill her own child? Taking a life that is so innocent and pure? This is why my team’s gonna win, and you’re just gonna sit back and watch it happen.”

Once the stake is in your hands, you send out a wave of magic over her which knocks her off guard. Instead of delivering a one liner, you just went straight for the kill. You shove the stake through her heart, and she gasps when she realizes that she’s going to die because of you. She falls off your body, and you scoot back to watch her shake and burn. Everyone else is quiet and stops fighting when this happens, and Sam helps you to your feet. Her face changes from her normal one to the monster one, and then her body ignites in flames. The stake disappears, leaving behind a burning hole where it entered her body.

“But I don’t understand,” Jane whimpers. “How are we supposed to get to paradise now?

“I’m sorry. Pretty sure you’re headed in a different direction,” Dean says, but he’s clearly distracted.

Everyone heard what she has to say, and you can’t seem to meet Dean’s eyes. He finally knows, and it didn’t even come from you.

“How’s the head?” Dean asks the pastor back at the motel room.

He and Sam were patching him up while Castiel rests on the bed. Once Leah died, the spell she put on him wore off.

“I’m seeing double. But that may be the painkillers,” he chuckles as Sam wraps his arm up.

“You’ll be okay.”

“No. I won’t,” he whispers.

Dean finishes with the bandages, and he turns when he makes eye contact with you. There is so much emotion behind his eyes, you can’t be in the same room as him.

“Excuse me,” you whisper and head outside to the car.

“Are we going to pretend that I didn’t hear what she said back there?” Dean says.

He followed you outside so that you two could have some kind of privacy.

“What she said?” you ask, trying to play dumb when you know it’s not going to work.

“Y/N don’t fuck with me. Leah wouldn’t have said that if it wasn’t true. Is it true? Were you pregnant?”

“I wanted you to hear it from me,” you cry. “I found out a couple of weeks ago. I made Castiel get rid of it.”

“You did what?” he says in a low and dark tone.

That means he is beyond pissed.

“We agreed to not raise a child in this life, Dean. I thought this is what we both wanted!”

“You didn't think to tell me any of this?” he finally yells. “Did you even care what I want?”

“Of course, Dean! But we talked about it! How can we raise a child in this life together right now? With Lucifer? Michael? Amara? The apocalypse?”

“It doesn’t matter what we discussed, Y/N! You got pregnant, and you killed it! Without even thinking of me! What, did you think I was never going to find out? Does Sam know?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Oh great, everyone knew but me. I’m so glad you decided to hide this from me. You’re supposed to be my family, Y/N!”

“Dean, I am. This decision has been eating me alive. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Not killing the baby would have been step one! That was my child!” he screams.

“Dean, please, I’m so sorry,” you cry.

“Leave me alone,” he shakes his head.

“Dean, please stay and let’s talk about this.”

“I can’t even look at you right now,” he gets into his car angrily.

He starts her up and peels out of the parking lot in a screech of tires. Your whole world comes crashing down around you, and your knees buckle from the weight. Arms wrap around your body to keep you from falling, and you turn in his arms to bury your head in his chest.

“He hates me,” you sob.

All that Sam can do is hold you. Dean hates you for what you did, and you don’t know if you two will ever be okay because of it.

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[fluffyvillain]

The Bond

Chapter: 2/?

Summary: Mila finally finds her soulmate, but not everything is as she expected it to be.

Chapter 1

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: None

A/N: No one:

        Absolutely no one:

        Me: Okay, Henry is going to be asshole-ish in the beginning

AO3 link

A tray with champagne was shaking slightly in Mila's hand, she really was incapable for this job and now she was sure of it. But, she did her time, full 6 months. She's been looking forward to this day since before she even started. Being careful not to trip, she walked through the crowd with a wide smile plastered across her face, trying to hide her insecurity. When the last glass was off the tray, she went to fill it up again.

"Did you see freaking Tom Hanks?" Martha passed her on the way to kitchen.

"I did, I did." Mila was trying to get rid of the wrinkles on her skirt by pulling it down.

"How come you never get excited with having celebrities around you? I get all giddy every time, like a teenage girl."

"Well, you were a teenage girl up until a couple of months ago. I don't know, it's because I've been in this situation many times before, I guess." She wasn't lying, she has, but not in this position. She was usually the one wearing gowns, not a white shirt and a back skirt. "I have to get back to work."

Her tray was full again and she was back among the crowd when she saw him entering, he was finally there and everything around her stopped, he was the only one she could see in the crowd. It was like every cell in her body started pulsating and she was frozen in space and time, even though she felt like he was a magnet pulling her to himself. She wanted, no, she needed to run to him, to hug him, but something was wrong and she knew it. She felt like a whole new dimension opened inside of her, creating space for his emotions, but here were no fireworks there. He was feeling content, peaceful and she felt he felt profound love at that moment.

"Excuse me, miss, may I get a glass?" An elder lady stood next to her, rolling her eyes.

"Of course, my apology." Mila turned to her, lowering the tray so the lady could help herself. Then her eyes were back on Henry, she didn't know what to expect of her soulmate, but she never really expected him to be famous. To be honest, she wasn't really a fan, but she knew who he was. She watched "Superman" and even if she didn't, it was impossible to miss Henry Cavill, especially after "The Witcher," its content was all over the internet.

With timid steps, she started moving towards him, but he wasn't alone. The girl who held hands with him was one of the most beautiful women Mila has ever seen, compared to her, she felt like a bag of potatoes. On her heels, she was a bit taller than Henry, slim, with incredibly shiny long black hair, and a face of an angel with large eyes and full lips. Definitely a model, Mila thought to herself. She stood in front of them, feeling so tiny and scared before them.

"May I offer you a glass of champagne?" The tray was before the woman, but Mila's eyes were on Henry, expecting some kind of a reaction, but he only thanked her when he took the glass. What is going on? Maybe it's not the time, maybe if I get to be alone with him he will figure it out.

Her family always said that she was great at finding quick solutions to problems that came at of the blue and that exactly what she was trying to do now. A lot of round tables were scattered all around the room and the only one that stood out was a rectangular one, in the back of the room where 4 people were seated, bidders who place bids they get over the phone. That's it. From a young age, she was aware that her family was well off, but she never felt the need to splurge, well, except when it came to traveling, and he never had a feeling that her life was much different than most other people's but she was beyond glad she was rich in this moment. She walked over to the bidding table, still holding a half filled tray. "Good evening," she spoke to the man who was closest to her. "I need you to represent me tonight, if dinner with Mr. Cavill is on auction."

"It is and I don't mean to be offensive, but we are talking big numbers here." He said he meant no offense, but his voice was full of sneer. Two women sitting next to him both had the same mocking expression on their faces.

Mila slammed the tray on their table. "Does the name Robert Radcliffe mean anything to you?"

"Isn't he the owner of this hotel?" The man's sinister smile slowly disappeared from his face, realizing where this might take him.

"Among many others and I am Mila Radcliffe, so what does that tell you?"

There were two options in his head, she was either a lunatic, or she was a part of one of the richest families in New York and he didn't want to take any risk. "I'm sorry, Miss Radcliffe." He gave her a business card. "You should call this number, but they will request an ID validation and a credit card number."

"You shouldn't worry about that. How will things work after that?"

"You will receive Mr. Cavill's e-mail address and the rest is up to you. If you want to, you will also be introduced to him tonight."

"That won't be necessary. Since I will be in no position to be on the phone, you should know that I have no limit, but I guess your colleagues will inform you about that once I'm done talking to them. You need to outbid everyone, no matter the cost. In the end, it is a charitable auction."

"Of course."

She took a break so she could sort thing out with the auction company and it surprisingly didn't take long and she was soon back at her work. Henry didn't even acknowledge her existence, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. She couldn't deny that he was handsome, no one could, but this wasn't about his blue eyes, shape, height or his incredible smile. He was the last one in line to get up on a podium, showing what the person who wins the bid will get. Mila leaned on a side wall, waiting for the bidding to end, even though she already knew the final result.

"10.000$ first time, 10.000$ second time, 10.000$ third time. Sold to a telephone bidder!"

Dear Mr. Cavill,

  Hope this e-mail finds you well.

I'm contacting you regarding the charity auction from yesterday evening.

If you are free, I would like to have dinner with you within the next 7 days, if you are unable to do it then, please, suggest a different period.

  Kind regards,

Mila Radcliffe

 Mila shut down her laptop right away, pushing it away from her, she didn't expect any answer soon as it was 8AM, so she fell back on the bed. Her other side was feeling peaceful and she came to conclusion that he was asleep.

TV was her choice of entertainment for this morning, she found some morning show and she tucked herself in under a duvet. Just when she was about fall asleep again, she jerked, feeling waves of pleasure washing over her. Jealousy kicked in when she realized what was happening, Henry was being pleasured, but obviously not by her. She took a few deep breaths, trying to somehow block what he was feeling, but it didn't help. Then she tried to reason herself. He hasn't realized it yet, you can't be jealous. It's not like he's cheating on you. Get your shit together, Mila. She plumped up a pillow, only to put it over her face.

During the day, she felt different emotions coming from him and the only constant was pure love he felt and for Mila, that was like a pang in her heart, way worse than when he was sleeping with someone else. She tried everything she could think of to try to block his feelings starting from cooking lunch, cleaning the house, plucking weeds in her garden to taking a swim in the pool - which usually helped relieve stress, but it didn't help at all this time.

Defeated, she sat on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water, warm June sun shone over her, heating droplets of water enough to evaporate from her skin. Just when she finally acquired some peace, but it was soon disturbed by the sound of e-mail notification coming from her phone. She stretched her arm to reach the phone from a deck chair behind her and she held her breath from the moment she saw who sent the e-mail until she read it at least 5 times.

  Dear Mrs. Radcliffe,

  Thank you for sending me this e-mail and for being a part of the charity program.

I am free tomorrow night and I will gladly meet you then, just tell me when and where you'd like us to meet, please.

  Best regards,

Henry Cavill

 She did a happy dance before replying. Everything will be fine tomorrow.

  Dear Mr. Cavill,

  Tomorrow at 7PM, then. "Molière" restaurant, reservation will be under my name. Looking forward to meeting you.

  Best regards,

Mila Radcliffe

 She got an almost instant reply.

  Dear Mrs. Radcliffe,

  It's a deal. See you tomorrow.

  Regards,

Henry Cavill

 She ran to her wardrobe, not caring that her hair was still dripping wet. After going through her whole wardrobe multiple times, she chose to go for the classic - little black sheath dress, short sleeves, knee length and black stilettos with high heels which she put on right away to practice walking with them on since she never got a chance to wear them before. Her legs were a bit wobbly at first, but soon she got used to them. She grabbed her phone and dialed a number, continuing with her practice walk.

"Hello, Arthur, what are you doing?"

"Nothing much, I'm about to leave work, you?"

"I'm not really doing anything. Listen, I'm going to need a table for 2 tomorrow at 7." She got down the stairs, only to climb back up.

"You have finally decided to grace us with your presence, your majesty." Arthur gave her a little sarcastic clap.

"Oh, come on. When I agreed to make this investment, I said that I didn't want to have any part in managing the restaurant, it was just a business venture and a mighty good one, if I may add." She didn't really like the restaurant business, but when her friend suggested a joined venture, she agreed. The location was good and the whole concept of traditional service with high quality food was even better.

"With me involved, you couldn't fail even if you try."

"I won't defy you. Anyhow, give me the best table, somewhere secluded."

"Oooh, someone's got a date."

"Oooh, someone has to shut up."

 Mila spent the whole day on the edge of a breakdown, Henry's emotions were definitely too much to handle, the only thing that kept her sane was the fact that she was meeting him tonight. She went to a hair stylist and a makeup artist, she usually did her hair and makeup by herself, but this was a special occasion, she has waited her whole life for this. In her loneliest night, she imagined her soulmate, how he will give the comfort she desperately needed.

Instead of getting more nervous as the meeting time was getting closer, she was feeling more and more comfortable, she will get to talk to him, to see him up close. So, when she entered "Molière," she was fairly relaxed. All of the staff greeted her and she was instantly reminded why she didn't come here often, all of the staff seemed a little distracted when they saw her, not treating her like a regular guest. She made her way to the kitchen, just peering inside, waving at everyone, then a waiter took her to her table and brought her a glass of wine. "Please, put everything on my name tonight."

"My queen, you look stunning tonight." She received a kiss on the template.

Mila kissed Arthur's cheek. "I thought you left. How are you, how's Anna?"

"I stayed longer so I could see you. I'm fine,  Anna sends her regards and she told you to call her soon or she'll get mad."

"I will, I promise. I'm going to start worki... I... Um..." Mila lost her train of though when Henry came just a few tables away from her, walking behind a hostess.

"What?" Arthur turned to see what she was looking at. "Henry freaking Cavill is your date?" He tried to be as quite as possible.

"Yeah." Mila couldn't take her eyes off him, he was in a suit and he looked divine. Goosebumps rose on skin all over her body.

"I know that look, that's how you look at... Oh, ooooh. I'm just going to disappear." So he did, he retreated to his office.

"Mrs. Mila, I assume." Henry shook her hand. "I'm Henry."

Mila could swear she felt a small electric shock when she came in physical contact with him. "Miss, but it's okay."

"I apologize, it's because I expected you to be a middle aged woman." He flashed her a smile and she reciprocated.

"It's alright, thank you for meeting me."

"To be honest, I've never done something like this for charity, but I though - why not?"

"Me neither, I've always done it the conventional way until now."

A waiter approached them and Henry ordered whiskey. "Here are your menus, I will be right back."

"It's okay, I don't need one."

"Of course." He took back hers and left to get the whiskey.

"So, you already know what you want?" Henry went through the menu.

"I do and I can tell you that their meat is pretty good."

"So, you've been her before?"

"I have."

The waiter came back, bringing the drink.

"We have decided what we want. Mila, please, go ahead."

"I'll have a Mediterranean chicken salad, thank you."

"I'll have a steak, medium rare, thanks." He gave back the menu and then continued the conversation with Mila. "You seem kind of familiar, have we met before by any chance."

"Well, I served you champagne last night."

"That's it! But, that means that you gave like three monthly paychecks for this." Suddenly, the atmosphere has changed and Mila started feeling unease coming from his side.

She tried to change the subject, diverting the conversation to his work. "Are you currently filming something?"

"I actually am. I'm on a break now, but I am filming a movie in Atlanta."

Mila continued with asking further about the movie and how he prepares for roles, but his unease never went away, it even grew stronger. When the waiter brought their food, their conversation stopped and there was only awkward silence for a whole minute and Mila couldn't hide what was going on with her anymore. "I have to be honest with you. I'm not really here because of charity."

Henry dropped his fork and knife. "I figured. Let me tell you something, I don't know what you are thinking, but it's not going to happen. I have someone whom I love very much and I would never put my relationship in jeopardy for someone I just met." His pupils widened and Mila felt pure rage coming from him.

"It's nothing like that. Please, let me explain. Last night when you walked in, I felt something, I felt that you are my..." Mila bit her tongue, sadness, anger, feeling of dedication, attraction, need, everything boiled inside her, like in a melting pot.

"Your what?"

"My soulmate and I don't know why you don't feel the same way."

"You are delusional. Listen, we are going to finish what we ordered and that's it, we'll part our ways. Okay?"

Mila out her hand over his, which was clenched in a fist. "I'm not lying. I can feel you, your anger right now, your love for the woman you are dating, your happiness."

He jerked his hand away. "You really are a psycho. You just gave your three month income only to have dinner with me, hoping it would lead somewhere further. Let me repeat, I have someone I love very much and even if what you were saying was true, I wouldn't care. She is the only one for me. I'm going to write you a check for 10.000$ and pay for this dinner, because I don't want to feel like I owe you something. I can't believe this."

Mila stood up, grabbing her purse, her heart shattering in pieces. "You have no idea how I wish it wasn't you. Keep your check and dinner has already been paid for." Mila hurried out, not wanting to allow herself for her staff to see her crying.

Henry gestured for the waiter to come bring him a check.

"Everything is settled, sir."

"I guess she left the tab open, just cancel that and I will pay."

"I'm afraid I can't go against my owner's wishes." Henry turned towards exit, but Mila was already gone.