#the winking. the 'I hope I get to hear your voice again gideon :)' the 'take your glasses off so I can see your eyes 🥺'

[psychokillermp4]

“Anything for your gongeous” extremely relatable

LISTEN! FR!! The way Gideon Nav has me down bad is catastrophic. I'd do anything for her. However much of a loser simp she is about the beautiful women of Canaan house, I'd be THRICE as bad in the presence of her. I'm not arguing with that buff redheaded lesbian and her GOLDEN BEAUTIFUL EYES, WHATEVER YOU SAY GOREGUS!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Afterhours

Summary: Spencer and his girlfriend sneak around in the library afterhours

CW: 18+ only Spencer x Female Reader (Smut) Semi-public, oral/fingering (female receiving), premature ejaculation, kissing, established relationship

Note: This was born from my deep desire to makeout in a library with Spencer. Specifically glasses Spencer my beloved (that's actually his full name if you didn't know that)

Word Count: roughly 2000 !!

It was so quiet in the back of the library that Spencer could hear the squeak of his sneakers on the linoleum floors. By this time, the library was usually unoccupied. Only Spencer remained most nights. He preferred the quiet, large library as opposed to his stuffy apartment. In the mornings, he would appreciate the daylight that shone through the wall-to-floor length windows on the south side of the building. At night, he loved the quiet comfort of familiar patrons and staff. 

Particularly, a certain desk clerk. 

At this hour, the fluorescent lights threatened to give Spencer a headache. He would usually combat this by downing one or two paper cups of mediocre coffee. Between Gideon’s caseload at the BAU and finishing his last dissertation, it’s hard to find time to sleep. Luckily, that certain desk clerk is more than willing to teach him a thing or two. 

“You look exhausted,” Y/N says ,reaching out and pressing her hand to Spencer’s face. He leans into her touch, unable to resist it, “Are you seriously getting any sleep?” 

“A little,” Spencer says, cocking his head nonchalantly, “Just busy between finishing up school and starting at the BAU. It’s a little scary if I’m being honesty,” 

“I’m sure. I just want to make sure you’re getting enough sleep is all. You know someone really smart did once tell me that operating under a significant lack of sleep is just as dangerous as being intoxicated,” she says, smirking. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m intoxicated too,” Spencer says, moving closer to you in between the ranges. He has your back pressed up against the bays, the books are hard against your back and his breath is warm on your skin, “On you that is. I’m not sure if that was clear. I’m tryin–” 

“Spence,” she chuckles, grabbing a fistful of his soft hair, “You don’t have to try anything with me. You’ve already got me,” 

“I know, Y/N. I just like to charm you,”

Y/N closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against Spencer’s forehead. Barely brushing her lips against each other, Spencer whines at the lack of touch. She licks her lips, smiling at Spencer’s eagerness. Relenting, Y/N closes the distance. Even though she’s lost count of how many times she’s  kissed him, every time she kisses him it’s like the first time all over again. His hands are restless on her back. He claws at the fabric of Y/N’s cardigan, desperately wanting to touch more and more of her. His voice comes out in breathless hums of delight as her lips drag up his jawline. Siphoning on a source of newfound energy, she pushes Spencer up against the bookcase and deepens the kiss. 

“The library. Y/N. Someone. Someone could–” 

“No one comes down here. It’s just us. We’re all alone,” she replies, separating to wink at Spencer as she takes off Spencer’s glasses, placing them in his pocket. 

“You know, as many times as we’ve done this, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about taking my glasses off. One would think that I would, but I just never–” 

“God, Spencer,” Y/N curse’s, brushing her lips harshly against his lips with more passion than she intended, “I love it when you ramble, but I really would like if you didn’t think right now,” 

Spencer doesn’t answer. Instead, he wraps his arms around Y/N’s  torso in a tight grip. Spencer’s breathy whisper sends shivers down her spine. His eyes are a honeyed fire that threatens to swallow her whole. She wishes she had the ability to slow time down. She’d want to let this moment, with Spencer pressed up against the bookcase and her flush against him. Feeling a rush of hopefulness, she decides to yield to the strength of the tide. He holds her steady against the brute of it, and his lips beckon you forth. 

She reaches upward, pulling Spencer by the neck to deepen the already deep kiss. It’s like she can’t get close enough to him. He steadies the kiss with a gentle, careful hand against her cheek. Y/N can tell that he’s holding back, restraining himself from kissing you with a sort of passion that bubbles to the surface. He slides his thigh in between your legs, letting her grind on him. The sensation is electric, but nothing compared to Spencer’s unrestrained whines. Spencer groans in her ear, his swollen lips hot against her  jawline. The low groan in his throat melts her inhibition. Spencer’s hands fit perfectly at the back of her head, cradling Y/n towards his lips as he kisses her. He’s still against the bookcase, and she’s smart enough to know this could lead somewhere else quickly. 

“Y/N,” Spencer says, his strained voice in her ear sends a shiver down your spine, “If we don’t—”

“Why don’t we do that thing we always talked about. You know,” 

“Now? I mean. Okay. If I-you. If you want to, that is?” Spencer says shakily, his hands are on her waist, searching for skin to grip and kiss and leave lasting marks on. 

“You mean if I want you to fingerbang me in the library? I mean I’m not going to complain about that, that’s for sure,” 

Spencer, blushing profusely, stammers out a response that’s completely unintelligible. His cheeks burn with adorable crimson that makes me want to kiss him senseless all over again. He nods, leaning in close to give her a chaste kiss on her forehead. 

“Um, do you want me to take your skirt off or uh, do you want to that yourself—”

“Spence, baby. You got it. You’ve just gotta relax. I know you’re already great at it. Just relax. Please,” she reassures him, kissing his nose. The kiss breaks out into a smile, a toothy goofy one where if Spencer laughs for too long he’ll get the hiccups. 

“Okay,” Spencer says, his fingertips gliding on her hips, “you just make me nervous. A good kind of nervous, though. The best kind,” 

Spencer’s voice trails off as his head eclipse the crappy fluorescent light in the library basement. She lets Spencer swing her around so your back is pressed up against a bookcase. No one ever ventures down to this level anymore. It’s just collecting dust — and serving as a certain fantasy. 

“Spence,” Y/N mutters, so breathless as her eyes lock with Spencer’sm 

He slips down to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. With a wicked grin, Spencer’s hands pull her skirt to her knees. He kisses her exposed hip bones, unable to leave a bit of skin unkissed. 

“Use your words,” Spencer orders, the vibration in his throat making her shudder in anticipation. 

“Just touch me. Please just touch me,” you beg, gripping Spencer’s shirt collar. She tugs him forward as he plants wet kisses along the dip in her thighs. His hands are hot against her flushed skin, drawing her in time and time again. 

“As you wish,” Spencer says, that wicked grin cropping up again as he curves his fingers around your underwear. 

He kisses a spot on her underwear, making her shudder at the sensation. He slips the underwear down to her knees with a swift move, looking up at Y/N with anticipation. Y/N combs her hands through Spencer’s hair, smiling as he hums at the feeling. He loves getting his hair brushed or braided or anything, really. As long as Y/N’s hands are somehow wrapped up in Spencer’s hair, he’s happy. His lips are swollen and well-bitten, but Spencer looks like an absolute dream. His cheeks are flushed from neck to ears and his hair is unruly from Y/N’s steadfast grip. 

“Eager boy,” Y/N chides with a chuckle. She taps Spencer’s cheek lovingly as he kisses along her thighs. Her skin is soft to the touch and Spencer wants to melt into it. 

“How can I be anything, but when you’re…you’re so beautiful,” 

Y/N, as Spencer’s fiery brown eyes look into her’s, feels like she might sink and drown and die. She beckons Spencer forward and he obliges. His lips curve into a smile as his hands snake upward. He reaches for her soft breast, desperate for the feeling against his worn palms. Everything about her is so soft and warm and welcoming. He can’t help but want a taste. 

Spencer litters his skin with little kisses as he finally reaches her unclothed center. He’s spurred on by Y/N’s tight grip of his hair. It’s the best kind of encouragement with her hands tangled up in his hair. The heady scent of her arousal sparks a carnal desire in Spencer to please her. Y/N’s stifled moans are the backdrop to a muffled soundtrack. It’s dizzying, it’s electric, it’s intoxicating. Spencer can feel her arousal against his skin, a sure sign that he’s doing something right. 

“Right there,” Y/N murmurs into the silence, Spencer’s own moans the only sound in the barren library basement. 

“Fuck,” Spencer curses uncharacterisitcally. Usually he’s a more stoic man. Usually he has all sorts of words to describe exactly how he feels. Usually he’s not as free. But this is not that usual moment. His hands grip Y/N’s thighs, sure to leave bruises he’ll kiss in the morning. 

“Please, Spencer, please,” Y/N chants, her chest rising and falling tandem. Her cheeks and eyes are alive with a beautiful glow. Her hair is matted in the back from moving so much, and Spencer thinks that they should take a leisurely bath when they go home. Her hand reaches his neck, pulling his head forward and effectively forcing him to look at her. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at that,” she curses with a smile. Spencer, looking quite proud of himself, offers Y/N a handkerchief from his long discarded tweed blazer. 

“Here,” 

“Of course you have one,” Y/N muses, chuckling as she plants a quick kiss on Spencer’s cheek, “Are you sure? You know, you don’t want to?”

“Oh,” Spencer says, his face turning from a sweet blush to a beet red, “About that. I’m fine. It’s a little embarrassing,” he says, his voice trailing off as his eyes lead to somewhere else. 

“Oh,” Y/N says, looking down at Spencer’s pants. She reaches out, grabbing him by his tie that’s way too big for him, and kisses his plush lips, “That’s the hottest thing ever, Spence,” she whispers against his cheek, kissing him all over again. 

“What?!” Spencer says, shock coloring his face, “Y/N, you don’t have to pretend–”

“Nope,” Y/N cuts him off, pressing a finger to his lips, “I’m going to do a number on you, my sweet boy. But later, at home,” 

Giggling, Spencer helps Y/N clean up her legs and readjust her clothing. He watches with awe as she fixes his tie and combs her fingers through his hair. With her skirt fixed, Y/N rests both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, squeezing. He winks, a silent sort of I love you amongst the stacks and stacks of outdated books. 

“Home,” Spencer says looking up at Y/N with warmth in his eyes, “I like that when you say home it’s my home too. But if I’m being honest, home is wherever you are,”

Tugging him up by his tie, Y/N rolls her eyes at Spencer, albeit lovingly, “You really got to change every moment into some kind of sappy contest,” 

Kissing her quickly on the bridge of her nose and then longer on her lips, Spencer whispers, “And I’m gonna win, every time,” 

TAGLIST

@pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @folkreid @muffin-cup @doctorspenceryeet @shemarmooresfedora @strawberryspence @alexrosex99 @reidslibrarybook @reidslovely @reidsacademia @cncos-baby @fightingdragonswithreid @drayshadow @gspenc @sleepyspencer @ssa-uglywhore27 @mimischaos @xoxospencerreid @nomajdetective @spencerreidat3am @reidselle @foxy-eva @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @luredwithpretzels

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. 

Warnings: None! A little dramatic??? This is a purely self indulgent, love at first sight kind of fic so just prepare yourselves. 

Word Count: 4,063

A/N: So I had a mild stroke trying to figure out the timeline for this series so please just don’t look too much into it lol.

MAY 2006

FORT WORTH, TX

It was just barely six in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Although the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet, you were surprisingly awake. In preparation for the day you had gone to bed at eight the night before which left you well-rested and alert. There was no way you were going to let yourself be off your game. Not today. Of all your classmates, you had certainly progressed the quickest. Due to your high success rate, your professor had authorized you to shadow the team of FBI profilers that were coming to your city for a case. It was an amazing opportunity for someone with a over a year left before graduation so you immediately accepted. Not allowing yourself to make even the slightest mistake, you planned everything down to the last detail in the days leading up to this. Nothing would be able to faze you. With the confidence of a woman who’d been working in this precinct all her life, you strode into the lobby. The receptionist asked for your ID which you quickly displayed. It was only temporary but even so, there was a certain amount of power you felt when she cleared you to continue into the building. After stopping briefly to ask for directions you made your way back to the Police Chief’s office. When he hears your knock, he looks up from his paperwork with a polite smile.

“Well, good morning. What can I help you with?” Clearing your throat, you prepare your most professional voice as you reply.

“My name is Y/N L/N. We met earlier this week. I’m going to be shadowing the team of profilers who are flying in today.” Recognition crosses his features as he makes his way over to shake your hand.

“Of course. I remember. It’s nice to see you again. You’re very punctual. That’s a good skill to hang on to.” You smile in gratitude. “Well, the profilers aren’t here just yet. If you’d like you can wait in here or we can find an empty desk for you.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I could look over the case files. I’d like to be as up-to-date as possible before they arrive.” As he nods, the two of you make your way into the hallway. Towards the back corner of the common workspace is an empty desk that he allows you to sit at. While you put your things down and take a seat he disappears long enough to retrieve a file folder and set it on the desk in front of you. 

“This should be enough information for you to be able to help out. If you’ve got any questions in the meantime, you know where I’m at.” With another polite smile, he leaves you to continue his paperwork. It doesn’t take long for you to read the case file. There had been a conspicuous string of murders in the area, which began about two weeks ago. Four couples were murdered in their homes, all wealthy without children. A list of witnesses and family members had been compiled to make the interview process a little easier. You predicted you’d most likely be helping one of the profilers in questioning the people on this list so you tried your best to memorize the names. 

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you heard the main doors of the precinct opening to reveal a group of five people walking up to the receptionist’s desk. The sight of them immediately perked you up. It was difficult to make out any individual faces at first but you knew these must be the profilers. As they each scanned their IDs and made their way into the main workspace you quickly gathered your things so that you would be ready to move the moment they were. It didn’t take long for the Chief of Police to reappear, welcoming the profilers and showing them where they could set up their equipment. Every member of the team had a distinctly different look and behavior but they all seemed to work in unison. Even though they’d only been there for five minutes they exuded professionalism and efficiency. As you watched them you had to remind yourself to breathe. You had as much right to be there as them. Admittedly they did have a lot more experience than you but that didn’t change the fact that you’re all on the same team now. 

Waiting patiently, you finish putting the case file back together and fold your hands to rest them on the edge of the desk. When the Chief of Police calls you over you gather up your things and make your way around the various desks to stand next to him. 

“This here is Miss L/N. She’s a student at our local university. She’s gonna be tagging along with you guys today for a little real-world practice.” As he introduces you, you take the opportunity to study the faces of the people in front of you. There is only one you recognize for certain. They all have their attention set on you as well which makes you suddenly very aware of yourself. “Anyway, I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.” With a nod, he turns to speak to you. “If you don’t mind stopping by my office at the end of the day, I’ll get you all checked out alright? In the meantime, have fun I guess.” He adds with a laugh before finally leaving you alone with the others. 

The first one to extend his hand to you is the one person you are familiar with. More than familiar, seeing as he is kind of your hero. You had been the one to initiate the arrangement, having sent him an email a few weeks ago. He had seemed more than willing to let you work with them for the day and he was nothing but helpful, just like you knew he would be. Seeing him now was nearly surreal.

“Y/N, I remember.” He begins, shaking your hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason Gideon, as you know. Glad to have you on board.” 

“It’s absolutely an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve been a follower of your work since I knew what profiling was. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I am more than ready to help in any way I can.” As you speak, a warm smile lights his face. One of friendliness and hope.

“Of course. I think I speak for my team when I say we’re grateful as well. Not many people in our field get a chance to guide the next generation to a life of helping others. Anything we can do to support you as a future member of our team, we’re happy to do.” This response is entirely heartfelt and shocking to you. Of all the ways you’d imagined this interaction starting, this wasn’t what you had in mind and yet it was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you, sir.” Was all you could manage as you work to maintain your fading air of professionalism. 

“Well, with that I’ll let everyone do their own introductions.” Almost immediately another man stepped out of line and reached for your hand. He was very conventionally handsome and the way he carried himself told you he knew that he was good-looking. The smile he flashed you was contagious as you shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and I am very excited to get to know you.” The woman next to him has to pull him away, shooting him a look. She seems very severe and yet when she turns to look at you there is a distinct kindness in her eyes.

“Knock it off Morgan. You’re gonna scare her off before she even gets a chance to meet anyone else.” She says over her shoulder, taking your hand. “I’m Elle. If he keeps bugging you, I’ll be more than happy to rough him up for you.” Morgan holds his hands up defensively when he catches Elle’s eye again before giving you a small wink. 

“Nice to meet you both.” It’s hard to contain your laughter but you manage, giving a small smile instead. Another woman is standing beside Gideon who shakes your hand. She is very beautiful and seems to exude confidence and grace. 

“I’m JJ. I’m the Communications Liaison for the BAU. We spoke briefly last week.” You nod in recognition. She had helped you coordinate the time and place to meet up for the day.  

“Of course. Very nice to meet you in person.” 

“Likewise. We’re excited to be working with you.” She gives you a warm smile which you gladly return before looking to the last person in the small group. He looks to be about your age, very sensibly dressed with a nice posture. There is a slight awkwardness in the way that he shakes your hand but he gives you a quick smile and you can see that he has a hidden friendliness in his demeanor. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He says shortly to which you politely nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With that, you turn back to Gideon to ask about your assignment for the day. However, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. “I read through the case file this morning so I can be of use wherever I’m needed. Did you have an assignment in mind or will I be moving around throughout the day?” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to work with SSA Hotchner. He should be here any minute.” That’s what was missing. Hotchner. You had heard his name before but you didn’t know much about him. As you waited for him to arrive, Gideon began delegating tasks to each of the other members. Despite not being given a task yet you listened intently until the front doors of the precinct opened. 

However you had pictured Hotchner, the man that walked through that door was the furthest thing from what you expected. The sight of him striding in from the lobby made your breath catch in your throat. There was an innate power in the way that he moved. So much purpose and intensity. His eyes were dark and they found your face almost immediately. It was enough to make you squirm but you maintained your composure. Gideon turned to greet him before gesturing back towards you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’s a student who is here to shadow the team for the day.” 

With the slightest hesitation, you extended your hand toward him. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment as he shook your hand. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke with a clear sense of professionalism. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot from this experience.” 

“I hope so. It was very smart of you to seize this opportunity. It does not come around often. Soak up everything you can today and I’m sure it will bring you a lot of success in the future.” You listen to him intently, nodding with a small smile. 

“Hotch, would you mind if she rides along with you today? We’ve got a list of witnesses we need to speak to and I think it would be good for her to get out in the field rather than being stuck here doing paperwork.” Gideon interjects, looking to both of you as he proposes the idea. Hotchner looks around the precinct briefly for the other team members before giving Gideon his attention again.

“Of course. Do I need to brief her on the case?” 

“Actually, I already familiarized myself with the case file before you all got here this morning.” You interrupt before Gideon can respond, causing both the men to look at you. “Sir.” You add, clearing your throat. They both share a knowing look. 

“Perfect,” Hotchner replied, with a respectful nod. Satisfied with the interaction, Gideon dismissed himself to begin his work leaving the two of you alone. “Give me a few minutes to speak with the Chief of Police and then we can get started. Would you mind waiting out front for me?” You nod eagerly which prompts him to walk back toward the Chief’s office. Once he has disappeared around the corner you make your way to the front of the building, stepping through the main doors. The cool morning air brings with it a sweet wave of relief. You hadn’t realized how hot you were until you had stepped outside. Nerves were already building up in your system when you were being introduced to the rest of the team but meeting Hotchner had tipped you over the edge. There was no denying that he was a very handsome man. The evidence was in the blush that was surely covering your face. Mentally scolding yourself you take a deep breath. You were a professional and you would act as such. No matter how deeply moved you felt when he looked into your eyes like that. 

A few minutes later Hotchner made his way through the front doors causing you to stand at attention. Moving briskly, you followed him into the parking lot and pulled yourself into the passenger seat of the dark SUV he had just unlocked. He remained silent as he began typing an address into the GPS before pulling out of the parking lot. Once you were on the road he looked over at you briefly.

“How much do you know about questioning witnesses?” He began.

“Quite a bit. I’m only about a year away from graduation so I have a fairly advanced understanding of a wide variety of concepts that pertain to profiling.” Watching the GPS, he nods. Feeling a tinge of awkwardness, you allow your eyes to stay focused on your lap.

“Good. Any real-world experience?” 

“Unfortunately no. In my courses, we do simulate certain scenarios fairly often but there isn’t much opportunity for real application.” 

“Well the best advice I can give for today is to stay quiet and watch me. If I need you to speak up, I will tell you as much. Otherwise, don’t say anything. It isn’t that I distrust you. It would just be irresponsible of me to allow someone with zero field experience to question the victim’s friends and family during some of the most difficult times of their lives. Especially without having seen what they’re capable of beforehand. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh absolutely. I completely understand. I know that I’m here in more of an observational capacity today. And even if I wasn’t, you’re the boss. No explanation necessary.” Hotchner is quiet for a moment. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with avoiding eye contact, you would have seen the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I should have you talk to the rest of the team. They could learn a thing or two from you.” This causes you to laugh lightly. 

When you finally do decide to look at him the sight steals your breath yet again. He is bathed in the golden light of the rising sun and he seems almost ethereal. You can see a flash of his deep brown eyes which seemed very soft now in the glow of the sun. As though he could feel you looking at him he turns to meet your eyes although this time you don’t look away. The two of you sit there in what seems like the most eternal moment, dancing in and out of each other before he breaks away to look back at the road. For a moment you could almost swear you saw something there in his eyes, something almost like longing. It must have just been a trick of the light. 

“So, what made you decide to be a profiler?” The moment is over as quickly as it began as he speaks up. 

“Well, I’ve always had a deep fascination with the human psyche. Finding out what makes people tick. Picking apart their personalities, their behaviors. Growing up that almost felt like the only way to understand the kids around me. By studying them. Every friendship I had felt like a science project. When I found out that I could use that ability to be part of something bigger than myself, to make the world just a little brighter ... well, it was really a no-brainer.” 

“That’s very ... noble and, honestly, very uplifting to hear. With this job, you experience a lot more bad days than you do good. Sometimes it is hard to remember why we started doing this in the first place. It’s people like you that remind me this job is worth it. Hang on to those beliefs. They’ll help keep you sane, I can promise you that.” With a nod, you give him a kind smile.

“I will. I promise.” It isn’t much longer before you arrive at the first house. The interview is fairly straightforward. You stay close by Hotchner’s side as he introduces the both of you. Once you’re inside you sit quietly as he begins asking questions, merely listening and taking mental notes of the way he conducts himself. It is over fairly quickly and then you’re both back in the SUV and off to your next destination. The next two interviews are the same. On the third, he lets you ask a few routine questions. It is a simple gesture but you are very grateful for the experience and you handle yourself very well. 

Your final interview is with the parents of the latest male victim. When Hotchner knocks on the door, it takes a minute for it to open. Standing on the other side is an older man with a tired expression. 

“Yes? What is it?” The man says briskly. Hotchner pulls out his badge.

“I am SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. This is Miss Y/N L/N. May we come in?” Hearing the term FBI causes the man’s expression to darken rather quickly as he looks between the two of you.

“Where’s your badge?” He questions, nodding in your direction. Remaining silent, you share a look with Hotchner. After a second of thought he gives you a small nod of approval.

“I’m not actually an FBI agent yet, sir. I’m a criminology student at the local university. I’m shadowing Agent Hotchner today as a learning opportunity before getting out in the field myself.” 

“A learning opportunity?” It takes the man almost no time to answer and you can hear a significant shift in his voice. “You’re using my son’s death as a learning opportunity?” 

“You misunderstand--” Hotchner begins in your defense before you quickly cut him off with your own response.

“Sir, I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through. But I can promise you that my lack of experience is entirely made up for by my desire to see the person who did this to your son pay for it. It doesn’t take training to see that your son deserves justice for his death.” The man is silent but keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“My wife and I have already told the police everything we know.” 

“We know, sir. It will only take a few moments of your time and anything you can tell us might be crucial in finding your son’s killer.” 

“No. No, we’ve already talked about this more than any parent should ever have to. If it’s that important go ask the police what we said.”

“Please, sir--” Before he can finish, the man smacks the door frame.

“It took the deaths of eight innocent people for you to swoop in and save the day. You really think I want to waste a second of my time speaking with you? I have nothing more to say. Now get out of here.” With that, Hotchner nods before turning to leave which prompts you to quickly follow. As you get near the SUV you are startled by the sound of the man’s door being slammed shut. Once inside you release the breath that had been caught in your chest. When you look over at Hotchner his expression shows a deadly calmness and you are suddenly struck by the idea that he must be pissed at you.

“I’m so sorry. That was all my fault. I upset him. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I should have just kept my mouth shut like you told me to. I had no right to do that. I’m sorry.” The crushing weight of embarrassment and guilt settled over you. This morning you had felt more than ready but now it seemed like the day had been filled with challenges you couldn’t possibly have prepared for. In only a few hours you had managed to show your boss that you are completely incompetent. You ready yourself for what must surely be his wrath however when he turns towards you his expression shifts from one of unwavering calm to gentle kindness.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. What you said was perfect, it’s exactly what I would have said. You were establishing a rapport with him to gain his trust. You did the right thing. Believe me, it wasn’t you. There is nothing either of us could have said that would have gotten a different result.” When he sees that you are still wary he shifts in his seat to face you more directly. “As a future member of my team, you have my trust. You handled yourself very impressively today. You’re going to make a very fine addition to the BAU.” 

His words ease your anxious mind as you nod quietly. Soon after Hotchner is pulling back out onto the street to take you both back to the police precinct. After a minute of silence he glances over at you.

“So ... are you still sure you want to do this?” The question catches you off-guard but it takes you no time at all to answer.

“More than anything.” This time you do catch the faint smile that crosses his lips which causes you to give a small smile in return.

“Good.” Is all he says for the rest of the ride back to the precinct.

The day is over much more quickly than you had hoped for. When you step back into the police building you make a beeline for the chief’s office, remembering his request that you find him again at the end of the day. You return your temporary ID and he fills out a form for your professor to verify your activity for the day. Once the formalities are over he bids you a good evening and shows you back out to the main workspace. The team all gather briefly to say their goodbyes as well. You thank Gideon profusely for allowing you to join them before shaking hands with the rest of the team members. As you make your way to the exit you see Hotchner standing near the main doors. 

“Thank you so much for letting me tag along today. I really learned a lot.” As you say this you extend your hand which he quickly takes. 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure working with you and I look forward to seeing you again in a few years. In the meantime, here’s my card.” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his business card which he hands to you. “If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call.” Tucking the card safely into your pocket you thank him with a smile before heading out the main doors to your car. 

Once inside you pull the card out of your pocket and sit for a minute, staring at it. Unable to control yourself you let a giddy smile paint your face. After the day you had, a year has never seemed longer. The anticipation of your future at the BAU looms over you but rather than filling you with nerves it brings you hope and excitement for the things to come. Opening a small compartment on your dash, you tuck the business card away before heading home to get a good night’s sleep filled with wonderful dreams.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester​

[comfortwriting]

Best Friends Brother Part 3 - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

This is part 3 of ‘Best Friends Brother’ please read part 1 and part 2, want to be tagged? let me know! 

George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn

Warnings: mention of food and eating, swearing, 

The moment your lips touched, fireworks went off around you, George wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him - all of your worries withering away, all you could feel was happiness and pure bliss.

George pulled away from the kiss and slowly opened his eyes, you were in shocked and couldn’t believe who’s lips had collided with yours moments before.

Opening your eyes slowly, you stared into George’s brown ones, his gentle hands holding yours and squeezing them softly.

“T-Thank you for tonight” you blushed, letting go of one of his hands, tucking a stray hair behind your ear nervously “It’s been wonderful.”

George smiled softly and nodded “it has” he paused for a moment, his thumb tracing circles into your palm “same time next week?” he asked, sounding quite nervous.

You squeezed his hand back in excitement and nodded “I would love to” you beamed.

Your three month anniversary was hanging around the corner, you had planned a whole day out on Saturday once George finished Quidditch practice, your heart fluttering in excitement and skipping beats, causing you to squirm in your seat - giggling out and squealing, confusing those around you, especially Ron who thought you were going barmy.

Despite seeing each other every day, the two of you were keeping things secret, you weren't ready for anyone to know - George knew his little brother all too well and so did you, Ron would be far from happy.

“George didn’t say anything to you after he, you know?” Ron asked, acting quite shifty in his chair.

“No he didn’t” you replied, “he’s not interested in me Ron, he just hates creeps.”

“Where were you last night?” Ron asked over breakfast, staring at you questioningly.

Shit! Think of something! I totally wasn’t kissing your brother, no, not at all.

“I went for a walk” you lied “I just had so much energy and needed to get out, I found an injured little owlet and was up all night nursing it, he’s helping me get over Penny.”

Ron believed you and nodded slowly “are you sure you’re ready for another owl?” he asked, trying to sound as caring as he could.

You sighed “I think it’s about time, yeah” you replied “It’s been almost over a year so I figured why not.”

So instead, you wrote to each other a few times a week, you had to admit, you quite liked the schedule; Wednesdays and Sundays nights were for the love letters, Saturdays were for dates unless he couldn’t skip Quidditch and the rest of the week you barely spoke and only engaged in eye contact if you were in the company of others - if not, you would hold hands and kiss in empty broom closets or even in the astronomy tower, but it was rare as Fred was never far behind from his twin.

Dearest Y/N,

Although we see each other every day and go on dates most weekends (when Ron isn’t on your back, or when I’m in detention like now) writing to you feels just as good as the real thing - but still bloody ridiculous.

Fred keeps asking what I’ve spent my Galleons on, told him it was for an experiment to do with our products we’re testing - he’s suspicious but believes me after I made myself sick to get out of Quidditch, oh the things I do for you, Y/N.

I think Gideon is the perfect name for the Owlet, mum will be so heart warmed and honoured when she finds out - but don’t bring the galleons into it of course, not until the joke shop is up and running with great success!

Seeing you last night up in the Astronomy tower was nothing short of the highlight of my day, I wish we could do it more often, but not to worry - one day we won’t need to meet up in private at all.

Anyway, I better get back to some homework before the greaseball comes over and reads this - detention with him always drags.

The next one will be longer, I promise, love.

Lots of love,

Georgie.

Dear George,

You should be focusing, get your head down and do your homework if you can bear it, I swear George, the day I receive a letter from you that wasn’t written in detention will be the day I wink at Snape - it’s silly I’m even asking you knowing that it’s never going to happen.

Your letters always cheer me up, Georgie, I can hear your voice as I read, feels like you’re sitting next to me and it’s good enough for me at the time being, I’m so thankful that we aren’t hundreds of miles away from each other.

Hey! You can’t be skipping Quidditch for me, you plonker! Gryffindor team need you and you’re a bloody good Beater - unbeatable in fact but stop skipping! we can make up for a lost date another time, I’ll try not to miss you too much I swear.

Thank you for gifting me Gideon, he is the sweetest little owlet and I cannot wait to watch him grow and to teach him like I did Penny - if his mother will let me that is. I won’t say a word to anyone, no one will know that you did such a thing although I want nothing more than to tell everyone, your kind-heartedness should never go unnoticed.

The joke shop will sweep you up off your feet and I can’t wait to see Weasley wizard Wheezes everywhere I go.

Thank you so much for last night, please don’t forget to send me your Christmas list - please don’t get me anything - Gideon is enough.

Focus on your bloody homework!

Speak soon and lots of love,

Y/N.

Looking over and your Owl, now named Gideon who had grown so much he was no longer a tiny owlet, you stroked his head and giggled at him as he nibbled on your finger.

“Alright, alright, but don’t be out too long” you whispered, opening your bedroom window, Gideon flapping his wings, leaping out and soaring into the night sky.

You beamed at your treasure, flying away to get some food for the evening, climbing into your bed as quietly as you could, hoping you wouldn’t wake up Hermione or your other roommates. Sliding your hand under your pillow, you patted around for the love letters from George you were hiding from everyone.

Your fingers grazed the corners of the crinkled parchment, lifting up your pillow you retrieved his most recent letter, taking it with you as you dive under your covers, shielding you from your roommates and giving you some privacy.

“Lumos!” You whispered, a beam of light stretching out from the tip of your wand, your cheeks flushing again upon seeing George’s handwriting.

Dearest Y/N,

Thank you for the heads-up, saved me and Freddie a lot of trouble, I swear one day Mr Filch and that bloody cat won’t know what’s hit them - if it wasn’t for you, we would’ve lost all of our plans and The Marauders Map, so thank you again for saving us all that trouble.

These three months have flown by so fast, I can’t believe it, I know this seems rather daft - a tall prankster being all lovey-dovey like this, but you really make me happy and I can’t wait to spend more time with you.

If you ever want to test any puking pastilles or fainting fancies, let me know and I’ll be able to look after you, love.

Looking forward to seeing you on Saturday so we can actually speak face to face - if Ron asks, you already know what to say.

Wrap up warm, it’ll be quite cold in Hogsmeade.

Looking forward to seeing you,

lots of love,

Georgie.

“Where are you off to so early? We never see you anymore over the weekend!” Ron complained, a mouthful of bacon.

“Oh get some manners, Ronald!” Hermione hissed, knitting her eyebrows together and grimacing.

You stood on the spot and stared at Ron, trying to plaster the most obvious expression on your face to make him feel stupid. “I’m off to spend some quality time with Gideon, he’s only a few months old and I want to make sure he’s as stable as Penny was at her age - I won’t be able to trust him to send letters long distances otherwise.” you lied.

But in all honesty, you weren’t really lying completely, next weekend was the end of term and the start of the Christmas Holidays - you wanted to make sure Gideon could deliver George’s letters to the burrow, you wouldn’t be able to hide them around for him to stumble across and pick up any more, and the two of you already discussed the problems of trying to use a device which muggles called a telephone.

“I’ll write you letters every week” George whispered, standing next to you in the corridors swarming with busy students, Fred chasing after Angelina outside “look in the middle of your textbooks, I’ll slide them in the middle of the pages.”

Opening up your book, a piece of folded parchment slid down and fell into your lap, you quickly stuffed it into your pocket, looking around to see if Ron noticed - luckily for you who he was copying Hermione’s classwork.

Ron looked lost for words, swallowing his bacon and thinking about your owl and how much you truly loved them “Alright then, well, see you later.” he replied,

You raised your eyebrows and smiled, waving goodbye to him, Harry and Hermione, walking out of the Great Hall and getting ready to meet George in Hogsmeade.

“She spends too much time with that bloody owl if you ask me” Ron muttered, stabbing some peas with his fork.

Hermione sighed “I think it’s quite sweet actually, she’s quite similar to Hagrid.”

Harry grinned and started to laugh, Ron rolled his eyes.

“Except the fact that she’s not a giant and she only flocks to birds of prey, not dragons or creatures that could kill us!”

“Well, at least you know where she’s going” Fred called out, walking past his brother “George never tells me where he’s off to and what he’s up to on a Saturday, he’s skiving Quidditch practice again and I get in bothered for it - I can’t check either because he’s got that sodding map with him!”

George wasn’t wrong, this time of year, Hogsmeade was freezing - your fingers changed colour and you could feel the ache and tingle against the freezing air that nibbled on your exposed skin.

You embraced yourself in one of the jumpers he had given you, one you were wearing under your fluffy winter coat which matched the colour of the snow. Looking around the small Village, you noticed George waiting outside The Three Broomsticks, looking slightly nervous as he scratched the back of his head.

You walked up to him, as you got closer you couldn’t help but blush at his red nose that had been attacked from the harsh winter air “Hello, George” you smiled softly, pulling him into a hug after clearing the coast of possible students.

George held you in his arms for a moment, taking in your scent and the feeling of your face against his chest, your hair under his chin as it rested on your head. “shall we get a drink, love?” he asked softly.

Following him inside and getting sat down in a quieter area of the pub, George ordered you and him a butterbeer and held your hand over the table, casually checking the map every now and then, checking on his brothers.

“It’s so good to see your face” he smiled, his starry eyes getting lost in yours.

You blushed and smiled widely, your drinks being placed down on your table, “It’s so good to see you too, can’t believe it’s been three months already!”

George took a sip of his butterbeer, the butterscotch warming up his tummy, you mirrored him, leaving behind a white foamy moustache. George smirked and leaned over the table, carefully avoiding spilling his drink as he wiped away the foam sitting on your top lip with his thumb, his index finger lifting up your chin.

The two of you exchanged a quick, risky kiss, remembering you needed to tone things down despite how hard the temptation was to snog him. George leaned back in his chair, sucking the foam off his thumb.

“I’ve been training Gideon” you beamed, the butterbeer warming you up “he’s finally got the hang of flying long distances and coming back in one piece.”

Meeting George in the small and squashed broom closet, he examined your tired features, looking slightly concerned, his hand resting against your face.

“Are you alright love?” he asked, “you look exhausted.”

You nodded and replied “I’m fine” suppressing a yawn “been up all night with Gideon, he’s growing so fast and he won’t allow me to baby him forever - he’ll be big enough to deliver letters soon.”

George felt a part of him fall in love with you all over again, the picture of you and Gideon in his mind made his insides got all warm and fuzzy - more so than his drink.

“So now he’ll be delivering you letters over Christmas!”

George went quiet and scratched behind his head like he did when he stood outside the pub, he paused for a moment and pursed his lips, licking them. “About that..” he trailed off, staring at his now half-full glass of butterbeer.

Your insides started to sink suddenly but your hopes were lifting, trying to figure out what he was going to say.

Is he staying at Hogwarts for Christmas with me whilst everyone else goes home? Am I unable to send him letters over Christmas if he goes back home?

“What is it?” you asked, both curiously and nervously.

George broke out into a smile, quickly glancing at the map again, then looking back into his favourite pair of eyes.

“Well, I was wondering...” he paused again “if you would like to stay at the burrow over Christmas, with me, everyone else of course but-”

“Yes!” you squealed, getting excited “oh George I would love to!”

George broke out into a grin, so relieved you were willing to come and spend some more time with him, a chance for the two of you to try and get some private time together, in the comfort of his own home.

“I had to ask mum ‘on behalf of Ron’ so if she says anything, just go through with it” George said quietly “Ron wouldn’t remember asking me to do such a thing anyway - his head is that clouded with Hermione.”

You swallowed down the rest of your drink, remembering to wipe away your foamy moustache this time “This is going to be wonderful, George” you smiled, squeezing his hand over to the table “Two whole weeks that we can just.. just be ourselves together!”

George smiled but remembered to remind you “We still need to keep everything on the down-low, it will be a full house and if we disappear it will be obvious we’re together - we’ll just need to wait for everyone to go to bed or go for a walk when they’re too busy to notice.”

You nodded your head, remembering that you would now be under not just Ron’s watch, but every Weasley who wouldn’t approve of your budding relationship.

George kissed your hand and looked down at the map once more, his smile dropping.

“Shit!” he panicked, getting up out of his seat.

“What is it?” you panicked, following him to the back doors in the pub.

He stared down at the map, his eyes following the group of feet storming into Hogsmeade “Fred, Ron, Harry - everyone’s heading this way - to this bloody pub!”

You swallowed hard, the butterbeer churning in your stomach, George’s drink rising up into his throat.

“When we can get away I’ll head to the owlery!” you put your coat back on, pulling the zip up quickly “you go hurry to Honey Dukes or Zonko’s when you get the chance, you’ll find your letter folded in your Quidditch jersey!”

George nodded, looking up from the map and quickly kissing you on the lips, the look in his eyes expressing the most sympathy you had ever seen.

Keeping things a secret would only get harder, harder than you and George were expecting.

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx​

[queenofspades6]

More Than Partners- The Mandalorian x reader

Tython

Chapter 13 of More than Partners

Summary: You and the Mandalorian go to Tython to find Grogu’s path, unfortunately, that doesn’t end well.

Warnings: Spoilers from The Mandalorian Episode 14 Season 2. Fluff and a bit angst. Mando is sweet

AN: This week has been very tough for me, I broke up with my boyfriend and my dog had a dangerous surgery. Rough week! The Mandalorian series has been a way for me to relax and try to look towards the future. What I am trying to do when I write I hope you’ll all enjoy this chapter! Next one will be very very very interesting... with a lot of drama... and maybe some smut? If you all want it. Enjoy!! And let me know in the comments how you found this chapter! If you could reblog please do it, Tumblr is being weird and hiding some of my posts.

———

<- Chapter 12 - Chapter 14 ->

———

“I need to tell you something, Mando.”

He tilted his helmet in wonder, waiting for your answer.

“I am not a Jedi anymore.”

“Alright.”The Mandalorian replied, nodding to you.

“Did you understand what I said, Mando?”

He acquiesced; his gaze focused on the Razor Crest’s dashboard.

“You are not a Jedi anymore, and?”

“Why aren’t you angry? Why aren’t you reacting?”You shouted, eyebrows raised in confusion, and your hands on your hips.

The Mandalorian stood up and approached you. He caressed your shoulder in a comforting gesture with his gloved hand.

“Because it doesn’t matter. Jedi, Mandalorian, Togruta, Twi’lek or Yodu species. It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s Yoda.”You interrupted, still deeply anxious.

Seeing no relief on your face, Mando sighed.

“Y/N. I don’t care if you are a Jedi or not. I didn’t save you and the Child because of your abilities.”

“So why did you save me? Grogu is just a child, and I can understand why you saved him, but why did you save me too? Why did you spare me death? I was going to die in that warehouse. I didn’t know you, and yet you saved me, Din.”You whispered his name, staring at his helmet.

“There are things we can’t explain, Y/N. We can’t explain the Force, but it’s here. I knew I needed to save you; it was instinct. Jedi or not, I would have saved you.”

You tried to hide a tear threatening to flow on your cheeks, yet Mando noticed it. Slowly, he embraced you with his arms with an incredible carefulness, doing his best not to hurt you with the beskar.

“I know you are fighting with yourself these times, Y/N. It won’t be easy, but you’ll succeed, and you’ll always have a home here, with me. Even if we don’t have the Child anymore.”

You smiled and put your arms around the Mandalorian’s neck, caressing the fabric of his cape. To your great surprise, you felt skin at the beginning of his spine. Between his cape and his heavy helmet, you could sense his warm and tanned skin. You traced the skin with your fingers, making Mando shivered under your unexpected touch. You fondled the skin again, your eyes closed, focusing on that intimate contact between two tortured souls.

Mando didn’t move, his eyes were closed, trying to save your soft touch in his memory forever. Oh God, how much he wanted to kiss you right now.

“Din.”You murmured in his ear.

You heard his heavy breath, even if he had his helmet on. You smiled, took his hand and planted a chaste kiss on his fingers.

“Come on. We need to go to Tython.”

Still lost in your touch, Mando nodded. You could made him speechless so easily. With only a word. Only a touch. Only a moan.

***

And here it was. Tython. The Force was strong on this planet. Were you slowly getting back your powers? All you could see through the ship’s windows was rocks and rocks everywhere, and on the top of a mount, there was a circle, a smaller stone on the middle surrounded by huge and dominating rocks.

“Mando? How are we going to reach the circle?”You asked

The bounty hunter chuckled.

“There is a Way.”

Wide-eyed, a little smile appeared on the corner of your lips.

“Was it a joke, Mando?”

He didn’t reply, and you grinned.

***

You didn’t think when the Mandalorian had told you he had found a way to reach the circular ruins, he was going to take you and Grogu there with his jetpack. The whole time you screamed, hiding your face on Mando’s armor and your hands holding firmly his torso.

“Mando, you are crazy!”You shouted, fearing for your life.

You knew the Mandalorian was probably smirking behind his heavy helmet of his, making fun of you.

Slowly, the bounty hunter landed on the circular ruins, his hand still on your hip.

“Never again!”You screamed.

“We need to get back to the ship after you know?”

“You’ll be the death of me, Mandalorian.”

He chuckled and stared at the Child with an assured look.

“I guess, this is it.”He declared, Grogu cooing in his arms.

You took the Child in your arms, patting his little head in a comforting gesture and put him on the small stone surrounded by the immense rocks.

Mando was getting impatient, trying to look for something that could help the Child choose his path.

“There is a ship coming.”The Mandalorian suddenly said, his fists clenched.

“I know that ship.”You murmured, a confused look on your face.

Mando and you tried to reason the Child and make him go with you, though, Grogu was sitting like a rock, and when the Mandalorian tried to reach him, you screamed. He was thrown few meters away from the stones by the Force.

“Y/N, stay here with Grogu. I am going to protect both of you.”

“No! Mando, you can’t! Please! He is…”

It was too late. The Mandalorian was nowhere to be seen.

What did Boba Fett want?

“Oh shit.”You shouted.”The armor! Damn, I should have known!”

“Mando! Mando! Din, please come back!”

No reply.

“Grogu, come on! Please, answer me! We can’t let him die! Come on.”

Still nothing.

A ship crossed the sky. Again.

Why did everyone come to visit you? You hadn’t sent any invitations.

“Mando!”

“Time to go! We have company.”

“Are you alright?”You asked.

“Later. Y/N.

“Come on, kid. We need to go!”

The Mandalorian got repulsed back again. Grogu was in trance and he didn’t hear anything than the Force.

“Stormtroopers.”

Mando rushed to the kid’s side, but he was sent by a shock of energy.

“Mando, stop. We can’t wake him!”

“Okay. I am gonna protect you both. Y/N, stay here.”

“I won’t! Boba Fett and some stormtroopers are here. I won’t let you go alone.”

Seeing you standing on your position, Mando shrugged and let you accompany him. You both hiked towards the group of stormtroopers gathered around Boba Fett and to your greatest surprise, Fennec Shand.

Noticing your presence, she winked at you and did a military salute.

The Mandalorian took care of the stormtroopers with only a button on his wrist.

“Okay. Let’s move in.”Mando declared.

“Y/N. I didn’t think I would see you again.”

You were startled to hear Boba Fett’s voice after so long. He had grown so much.

“Me neither.”You replied, iniatiating your lightsaber and slicing two stormtroopers.

“It’s her, isn’t it? The one always with the Mandalorian?”Boba Fett declared, addressed to Fennec Shand.

She nodded, and you looked between them awkwardly.

Mando talked with Fennec while shooting more and more stormtroopers, and you felt a bit jealous. It was complicated with you and the Mandalorian. You weren’t a Jedi anymore, but he was still a Mandalorian.

With your lightsaber, you killed a few stormtroopers and, just at your side, you discovered Boba Fett with his armor on. It was a shock for you. You hadn’t seen him in his armor for years.

“Back to the ship! Go! Go!” A stormtrooper shouted, gesturing to the others to climb on the ship quickly.

In a quick motion, Boba took care of the two ships of stormtroopers in the sky.

“Nice shot.”Mando said.

“I was aiming at the other one.”

You laughed awkwardly, and Fennec Shand stared at you. You had the strange impression you were nothing compared to these people. You were always different, but today, it was as if you were a stranger in your own home.

An energy blast shot down from the sky, destroying on the same occasion the Razor Crest.

“No!”You vociferated.

The Mandalorian rushed forwards. You knew this ship meant everything to him. And it had become your home too. And it was suddenly gone with only an energy blast. Only a second to destroy everything you and Mando had built together with the Child.

“Mando.”

You put a hand on his shoulder, he took it in his hands and held it firmly, not caring about Fennec’staring gaze on both of you.

“The kid!”Mando screamed.

“Oh no! It was a diversion. They wanted the Child all along. No! No! No!”

You, the Mandalorian and Fennec ran towards the circular ruins. You ran as fast as you could, praying to arrive before the Darktroopers.

Just when you arrived, the Darktroopers were flying away with the Child in one trooper’s arms.

The bounty hunter and Fennec were talking, trying to find a way to save Grogu, but you couldn’t react. You felt your knees weaken, and you fell on the ground, tears flowing on your cheeks.

You had lost the Child and your home. Everything was gone in a day. Why couldn’t it be easy, you questioned yourself. Why is it always complicated when it comes to me?

You only heard “They’re back” before drifting to the darkness.

(Time skip brought by Hayden Christensen coming back for a Star Wars Series.)

“Y/N. Y/N. Wake up.”

“Hmm. Din. I had a nightmare. We had lost the Child and the Razor Crest and-“

“Y/N. It wasn’t a nightmare.”Mando replied, scratching his neck in guilt and embarrassment.

“No. No it can’t be true. We can’t- We-“

“Shh. Shhh. I am here, Y/N. We’re going to get him back, I promise.”He whispered in your ear in front of Fennec’s curious gaze.

“But… What are we going to do now? We don’t have a ship and Grogu is gone.”

“Hey. Look at me, Y/N.”

You looked up and found the Mandalorian’s visor directed at you.

“We are going to get back Grogu, fight Moff Gideon, and then, Grogu will choose his path and we’ll make a family.”He murmured, caressing your cheek with his gloved hand.

“I am a burden for you. You should let me stay here.”

“I won’t. If you stay, I stay. If you fall, I fall. Wherever you go, I go.”He declared, putting one of your locks of hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure?”You questioned, smiling a bit and letting a tear run on your face.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

You smiled.

“I can’t live without you, Mando.”You muttered, staring intensely at the ground.

“Me neither.”

The Mandalorian passed his hands around your neck in a loving embrace. It wasn’t to comfort you, but to reassure him. Even if he didn’t show his sadness, the only thing left he had was you. His ship, the only thing he loved for as long as he could remember was gone forever. The Child wasn’t here anymore. But you were here. You held Mando in your arms firmly, not daring to let go.

“Hmm. Lovebirds, I don’t want to disturb you, but the Child needs rescue and we need to find where they hold him.”Fennec Shand declared, clearing her throat.

“You are going with us?”You asked us, eyebrows raised in wonder.

“Yes. Boba is also going with us. We’re going to help you save the Child.”

You acquiesced.

“Come on. There is someone we need to see.”The bounty hunter commanded in an authoritative tone.

*****

“Cara Dune. Marshal of the New Republic. I heard rumors you were gone legit.”Mando exclaimed, a smile on his lips.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

She stared at both of you and grinned.

“What?”You asked.

“You two, huh? Things are official now, I see.”

You looked up, a discreet and shy smile adorning your face.

“I need your help.”The bounty hunter announced, hands on his hips.

“Name it.”

“We need you to locate someone in the prison registry. Ex-Imperial sharpshooter, last name Mayfeld.”

You let the Mandalorian talk with Cara while inspecting her little office.

“We lost the Child, Cara.”You proclaimed.

You looked at her in the eyes, and instantly, you knew, she was going to break every rule to help you and the Mandalorian free Grogu. No matter the cost.

———

Taglist: @lol-who-am-i @kiaralein @kryttlebee @hoodedbirdie @eyeliveinabook @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @mitamixer @fleurdemiel145 @kneeldowntoyouralpha @pinkninja190 @esoltis280 @over300books @sad-anxious-girl @jedi-dreea @katialvi @lover1307

⬇️ Chapter 14 ⬇️

[engie-ivy]

Remus doesn’t go to the annual Halloween party because of the full moon, Sirius doesn't go to the annual Halloween party because of Remus, and the task befalls James to come up with an excuse as to why his two friends are both absent and should not be disturbed...

Short and cute happy Halloween fluff🎃

Self-fulfilling rumours

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Remus looks up from his book to see a rather angry-looking Sirius glaring at him from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

“You all have calendars yourselves,” Remus replies calmly, focussing his attention back on his book.

Sirius rolls his eyes as he walks into the room. “Well, we obviously didn’t realise, so why didn’t you remind us then?”

Remus sighs and puts down his book. “It’s your favourite night of the year. You were already so excited. What’s the point of me putting a damper on the fun?”

“Well, it could’ve saved Jamie and I the trouble of coming up with our costumes...”

“You’re going to the Halloween party,” Remus says firmly.

Halloween and the annual Halloween party is one of James’ and Sirius’ favourite time of the year. Eating nothing but candy all day, pulling an extra amount of pranks under the excuse of trick ‘n treating, and always having the best costumes. If it were anybody else, people might have made fun of them for dressing up in over the top and matching, but when James and Sirius do it, it’s cool, which goes for about everything.

“Moony,” Sirius says frowning. “Of course we’re not going to the Halloween party this year if the full moon is that night.”

“Sirius,” Moony sighs. “I’m not gonna let all of you miss out on something you were so looking forward to on my account.” Sirius opens his mouth to protest, but Remus keeps talking. “Besides, I can’t leave the shack on the night of Halloween anyways. Much too dangerous, with people out and about trick ‘n treating or going on ghost tours. So there’s really no need for you to miss the party.”

“But when you’re in there alone...”

“I’ve handled it on my own for many years,” Remus smiles in a way he hopes looks more convincing than he feels. “I can handle one night more, so you can enjoy yourselves.”

“Stop talking like it’s a sacrifice for us!” Sirius says. “We love our nights during the full, it’s the highlight of the month.”

“When we can go out,” Remus chuckles. “Not when you’ll be obligated to spend the night in a small space with a cranky werewolf, while you could’ve been getting drunk on illegally obtained Firewhiskey and eating your weight in candy.”

Sirius stares at him for a while. Then he sighs. “I won’t argue with you then.”

As Remus sits alone and cold on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, feeling as miserable as always so close to the full moon, he starts to regret being so firm to Sirius. In reality, he dreads transforming on his own, and letting the wolf take out his aggression on himself.

“Wotcher, Moony.”

Remus can’t suppress his smile as Sirius casually walks into the room. “What happened to ‘I won’t argue with you’?”

Sirius shrugs as he sits down in front of Remus. “I didn’t argue with you, now did I? I decided to save us the trouble, and just do what I wanted anyway.”

Remus knows he should tell Sirius to go back to the castle and enjoy the party, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s too relieved to have Padfoot with him for this night.

“Won’t Prongs mind that he won’t have you in your prisoner of Azkaban costume to accompany his Dementor costume?”

“Nah,” Sirius says. “I let Wormtail take my place. He was delighted.”

“I really don’t want to keep you from what you love so much...” Remus tries one last time.

“You are what I-” Sirius stops himself and sighs. “I mean, I don’t want to be anywhere else, Moony.” Then he smiles. “Why would I want to hang out with fake werewolves all night when I have the real thing right here?”

Remus launches himself forward and hugs Sirius tight, relief washing over him. “Thank you,” he whispers.

The full moon isn’t as bad with Padfoot there to calm the wolf, even if they have to stay locked inside the entire night. Despite some slowly healing scars and the usual painful muscles, he’s able to make his way around the castle again not too long after. In the library, one of the Prewett twins drops down in the chair in front of him.

“Hi Gid,” Remus greets. “How are you? How was the Halloween party? I heard you and Fabian didn’t bothered with costumes and just said you were dressed up as each other.”

Gideon grins. “Yeah, it was definitely fun. But not as much fun as your night has been, or so I’ve heard.”

Remus blinks at Gideon who’s looking back with a suggestive grin. Remus knows Gideon cannot be referring to what he actually did that night, as he definitely wouldn’t use the word ‘fun’, nor would he be smiling at him like that. If he knew, he probably wouldn’t be talking to him anymore at all, though admittedly, Remus has been wrong about that before. Remus realises that he has no idea what excuse James has given for his absence. Attempting to stay as vague as possible, until he can check with James, Remus says “Yeah, well, you know how it is, right?”

Gideon throws his head back and laughs. “I honestly can’t say I do, Lupin. But I can say that I’ve sometimes wished I did,” he adds with a wink, before leaving for his next class, leaving behind a very confused Remus.

“I am never talking to you again.”

Remus doesn’t take this threat too serious, as Lily just ran up to him and hooked her arm in his.

“You have affronted me, Remus Lupin.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Did I now?”

“Oh, yes,” Lily says. “I’m not terribly surprised, as I’ve had my suspicions, but having to hear it from Potter!” Lily shakes her head. “So, what’s the deal? Is it, for lack of a better word, serious?”

“I...” Remus says hesitantly. “Am not sure?”

“Right,” Lily says nodding. “I guess these things can be complicated. Just know that as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you.”

Remus starts noticing how people are, not even subtly, staring at him and talking about him. He sees lots of giggling and the occasional angry glare, but also suggestive smirks, winks and even a couple of thumbs up. Remus feels very much at a loss.

When Benjy Fenwick passes him in the corridor, he turns around to Remus. “Nice job, Lupin. From what I’ve seen in the Quidditch locker room, I can only say congratulations.”

When he tells Marlene he’s sorry he missed the party, she snorts. “Like hell you are, Lupin.” And then with a smirk “I trust you had a very pleasing evening?” And when Remus, caught off guard, stammers that he supposes it was quite satisfying, she bursts out in laughter.

Mary just runs up to him and gives him an overly-excited hug, saying that she’s super invested in it already.

Remus walks into the common room over to where James and Sirius are sitting. “Prongs, a word in the dorm please. Padfoot, you come too.”

James looks very guilty as he enters the dorm. “I’m sorry!” He immediately says. “I panicked, and I couldn’t come up with anything else in that moment. I didn’t expect every person in school to be talking about it.”

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose. “What exactly is everyone talking about?”

“Well,” James runs a hand through his hair, before speaking in a rushed voice. “People asked why you weren’t at the party, so I said you were sick, but McKinnon found it hard to believe that suddenly both of you were sick and she wanted to go up to our dorm to confront you, ‘cause she ‘wasn’t gonna let you skip on the party of the year that easily’, and before I knew it she was walking up the stairs and I had to think of something, as neither one of you was of course actually in our dorm, to convince McKinnon she really shouldn’t enter our dorm that evening, so, and like I said, panicking, I said that you two were... you know.”

Sirius’ eyes widen. “You told McKinnon we were shagging?”

“No,” James says defensively before turning his head away and softly muttering “I shouted through the common room that you were shagging.”

Remus flushes as he remembers all the looks and conversations from that morning. He hides his face in his hands and drops down on the bed. He’s vaguely aware of Sirius telling James through gritted teeth to give him a moment with Remus to talk about what to do, and not long after, he feels Sirius sit down next to him on the bed.

Remus tries to compose himself. “So this is of course terribly embarrassing,” he says, and notices how Sirius looks away with a strange expression on his face. “But I suppose I rather have people talk about me for hooking up with you, than have people talk about me for being a vile, vicious monster.”

“I’m glad people thinking you’re hooking up with me is just slightly better than people thinking you’re a monster,” Sirius replies bitterly.

Remus frowns. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Sirius stays silent, so Remus continues. “For Godric’s sake, how in Merlin’s name Prongs came up with that? And for people to actually believe something so ridiculous!”

Sirius now snaps his eyes back to Remus’ face with an angry glare, and Remus has the feeling he’s really screwing up, but doesn’t know exactly what he’s screwing up.

“I suppose the idea that you’d hook up with me is absolutely ridiculous,” Sirius says with something like suppressed anger and hurt.

“Well, yeah,” Remus replies, not understanding this reaction. “Everyone knows that you’re way out off my league.”

“What?” Sirius asks incredulously. “I am no such thing!”

“Please,” Remus says, making a dismissive gesture. “You can literally pick anyone you want, why in Merlin’s name would you pick me?”

“Because you’re clever and kind? Because you have a sharp wit and a wicked sense of humour? Because you have pretty eyes that light up when you laugh or read a book and a cute smile, especially when you do that adorable nose wrinkle-thing? Because you know exactly how to comfort me and make me feel better about myself?”

How Remus wishes he was better at this sort of thing, how he wishes he’d have the exact right words to describe how much he admires Sirius and the feeling it gives him when Sirius’ eyes meet his and he gives him one if those small smiles, but all he manages to say is “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Sirius sounds defeated. “Look, I’m sorry that these rumours bother you so much. I wish I could make it better for you, but I don’t know...”

As he speaks, Sirius moves to get up from the bed, but Remus grabs his wrist. “You could make it better for me.”

Sirius sits back down and stares at Remus, and now it’s his turn to mutter the eloquent “Oh.”

Remus nervously licks his lips and shifts a little closer to Sirius. “I’d feel much better about these rumours if there was at least some truth in them.”

Sirius swallows and shifts a little closer to Remus. “Yeah, I hate that Prongs had to lie for us.”

Having him so close, Remus musters his courage and places one hand on Sirius’ waist. “Precisely. I don’t like fooling Lily about it either.”

Sirius places a tentative hand on Remus’ cheek. “It’d be indeed much better for them if there was some truth to it.”

Remus leans into his touch. “And so many people seemed really excited about it.”

Sirius also leans in a little closer, and Remus can feel his breath on his lips as he speaks. “It’d be such a shame to disappoint them.”

“Yeah,” Remus whispers before letting his eyes fall shut and closing the last bit of distance. “Such a shame.”

[jbbuckybarnes]

Concerned Parents

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Desc: To get the child back after it was taken from you, Din has to remove the helmet to get into a place to find out where he was taken. He didn‘t think you‘d have to see him AND kiss him to keep the cover up. Warnings: flirting, sexual references, not proofread

„They won‘t let you into that place with your helmet on. It‘s like the Hutts but worse and more uptight.“ Fennec had explained about the shady looking hut you were all looking at. „I‘ll go in alone, you‘re my backup.“ Din looked at you, Fennec and Boba. Your eyes widened but you kept your mouth shut. You all wanted the baby, whatever it takes. Everyone agreed to his plan. Fennec and Boba would take long range, you‘d be close enough to barge in, just in case all hell broke loose. He left his visible armor in Boba‘s ship, put something on over his chest plate and hid his face under a cloth wrapped around his face, a thinner material around his eyes that he could look through. „Let‘s go.“

Fennec went on her position, Boba on the opposite hill. You followed a couple dozen steps behind Mando You saw him starting to remove his headwrap that he put on for around all of you. Out of respect you looked around instead, but you could stop letting your eyes wander past him, noticing brown fluffy hair. You wondered how it looked this good after all these hours under a helmet. You sat down under a lamp in earshot of the hut, noticing his deep voice talking to get into the place. A grunt of agreement came back. With a touch against your ear you started hearing out what was going on inside. „I heard you could lead me to any imperial ship.“ You finally made out his voice out of all of them. „You heard right. For the right price I‘ll be able to locate almost any ship.“ A scratchy voice answered. „I only have this amount of credits, but I know the ship has cargo worth more than two dozen times of it.“ You heard a grunt and a commotion. „You take me for someone taking upfront payment and leaving with the rest?“ He asked in a calmer voice. „I never break my part of a contract. I‘m a bounty hunter.“ „Oh?“ You sighed and got up, „You‘re an idiot. That‘s what you are.“ The weird tentacle guy at the entrance looked you up and down and then nodded to let you in. „We don‘t really like your kind here.“ „I‘ll be gone and back with more. I‘m not here for a bounty. I‘m here to get something that was stolen from me by a Moff.“ You saw the big man look him up and down hesitantly, „Which one?“ „Moff Gideon.“ Now the man looked angry. „Are you kidding me? That man is dead!“ „He isn‘t, he has recently appeared on Nevarro and took someone from me.“ „Someone you say?“ „My child. And I know it isn‘t dead.“ „You‘re making stuff up, my friend.“ The guards around the man tensed up. You came closer, throwing on your charm, „Heard you talking about Moff Gideon.“ On the table in front of the guy you put down the disc with the holo message. The whole message from the Nevarro base played off. „That‘s from about a week ago.“ You looked at the guy, still trying to respect Din‘s creed. „And who are you?“ He smirked at you, looking you up and down. „A concerned mother, one could say.“ You winked at him and sat down next to Din. „You a bounty hunter too?“ He looked between you both. „Nope. Actually used to be a bounty. Let‘s just say I‘m good at stealing.“ „Odd pair. Hm.“ He looked between you both again and you put your head on Din‘s shoulder and put your arm around him. „2500 credits up front for someone that wants to take on Gideon. That‘s...I don‘t have to tell you that is a low amount of credits, but I hate that guy as much as the next person. I‘ll help you, but you‘re gonna have to give me your code, because I will put a bounty on you if you don‘t pay up.“ The man didn‘t account for possible death, but you didn‘t mention that error of mind. „Kakiu? You know what to do.“ A small thin man nodded and ran off into a backroom. You felt Din tense up under your temple and gently went over his other shoulder with your hand. „Why would he keep your child alive?“ The man was nosy, but he had a valid question. „Our child has some specific mutation about his blood that they want to experiment with. Tried to hunt us for it for a while…well, and last week they got him. Now we‘re just trying to get him back any way we can.“ The man‘s face softened a bit, „Concerned parents, cute. But do you two really think you can breach a ship that big? That‘s wishful thinking. I‘d like to see you try tho.“ „You haven‘t seen him in his element. Never seen so many dead Imps in the vicinity of one man.“ Your head went up and you went to give him a kiss on the cheek, closing your eyes for the duration to not break his creed. „Kaiku will take a while, so why don‘t you tell me about it?“ The guy leaned back. „Which time? There were like, three.“ „The best one.“ „Well, last week it is, Gideon really wanted this kid, so he sent two ships full of Imps for us. Probably 120 or more. I shot some, a friend of us shot some, but this one probably took care of two thirds of them alone. He looks pretty good in a field of dead Stormtroopers with his blaster still sizzling.“ You felt his hand grab into your thigh and put your hand on his. „You took out quite a few yourself, don‘t sell yourself too short.“ You heard Din‘s warm voice next to you. You looked into your lap, „I really just want the kid back.“ You felt his lips on your temple, „I know, darling. I know.“ „Boss, Kaiku is having a bit of trouble.“ A guard came over and the guy in front of you grumbled and excused himself. You felt a thumb caress your hand and took the arm you had around him and snaked it around his arm to have it snug against you. „D‘you think the dude wants to secretly kill us?“ He chuckled. „I wouldn‘t be surprised, sadly.“ You mumbled back. „Didn‘t have to make me look this good in front of strangers.“ He whispered to you. „I didn‘t lie for a second, you know that damn well.“ You felt his other hand under your chin. „Looking down makes you look submissive around this folk, don‘t want that, we’re getting the kid back.“ You sighed in agreement and fluttered your eyes open slowly to see dark brown ones reflect back soft, concerned and determined. „I‘m sorry.“ You whispered, he knew what you meant. „It‘s okay. Don‘t beat yourself up over it.“ He offered a small smile. The guy came back after a while, „He‘ll be done in a while. Get yourself drinks and enjoy yourself, yeah?“ You nodded and dragged Din out of his seat towards the little bar. With your hands you ordered two small drinks while he put a respectful amount of distance between the both of you again. Not too long after you were in your thoughts sipping your drink. Not noticing the man on your left. „Hey sweetpea, you here often?“ A tipsy man of another species looked at you. „Nope.“ „Wanna change that?“ You felt an arm slinging around you from behind protectively. „Nope.“ You answered with a sweet smile and leaned against the broad chest behind you. „Aww, c‘mon.“ He didn‘t give up. Usually Din would have his scary demeanor in his beskar armor, but that wasn‘t his out card this time. „Does that man make you uncomfortable, dear?“ Your heart beat a little harder at the affectionate name. „He surely doesn‘t know how to treat me right.“ You sighed before unexpectedly being turned around. You let out a giggle and put your arms around his neck, „Now this guy is way better.“ He softened at your slightly tipsy behavior, not that he didn‘t enjoy the whole front of being partners in the first place. No. He absolutely didn‘t like that. At all. It was horrible. Super bad. „Oh, is he?“ The drunken guy was still commenting in. „Yeah.“ You whispered and Din didn‘t quite know which god put him into this situation, but suddenly his lips were on yours and he hated himself for liking it. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was just a front. He knew he just broke his creed for his child. He hated that he liked what his brain just decided to do. Someone cleared their throat next to you and you went apart, looking at the boss here. He handed you a data stick, „Gonna put it right on your ships control panel. Now I‘d like your code.“ Din obliged to the terms and gave him his code, you didn‘t know if it really was, but he gave one. You hoped it was just one of his old bounty‘s code. „See you again when you got the rest of that money.“ He nodded at the helmetless man and got a nod back. Not too long after you were dragged out of the hut by him. You helped him with his headwrap, not saying a word. He saw the guilt written on your face, but didn‘t say anything. „Say it.“ He whispered. „I hate that I broke your creed and liked it. I hate that I liked any of it.“ You said short and firm, as if you were scolding yourself. Silence. There was nothing else you could add. That‘s all you felt right now. „I feel the same.“ He answered after a while of you walking towards the rendezvous spot. „I mean, my god you look beautiful.“ The words burst out of your deepest soul and he came to a hold to look at you with his thin cloth for his eyes removed. „And I made you look.“ He sighed, „So please don‘t put this on yourself. You were just trying to help get Grogu.“ More silence between you for the way back. „I‘m sorry for flirting with you.“ You mumbled and looked away. You were just playing your part to de-escalate. „Ouch.“ He commented. „No, no, it‘s just. I. I don‘t know. I wasn‘t supposed to do that. It wasn‘t necessary for the mission.“ You stumbled over your words. „I‘m sorry that I kissed you.“ He answered and that felt like he just put a vibroblade through your heart. „I didn‘t mind. I think.“ You didn‘t even know what was and wasn‘t okay anymore. „I‘m sorry I‘d do it again.“ He chuckled and looked over to you as you walked. „Me too.“ You smiled back at his shimmering eyes and then back to where you were going. „I would do all of this again.“ He whispered with a sigh, more to himself than you. „For someone with a tin can on your head since your teen years you kiss pretty good.“ You grinned. No comment. „And you‘re kinda more fun when there isn‘t a visor between us. I can actually see your reaction. That‘s groundbreaking. I love it.“ You chuckled. „I have a lot to think through with my creed and what I just did.“ He added. „You‘ll make the right decision.“ You said calmly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it before letting it go as you stopped at the meeting point. „The decision might be led by what you just did to my mind.“ He laughed lowly, it sounded beautiful. You looked around for Boba and Fennec, nobody in sight, so you went to his back and kissed the sliver of exposed skin there. „Cyar‘ika!“ He said with a warning tone. You didn‘t know what that meant. „I‘m sorry, I like teasing when I know I have an effect.“ „Oh, have I awakened something in you?“ „If you didn‘t notice by the way I talked about you killing Imps, yes.“ „Well, good that we‘ll have to kill some more.“

— Time Jump to End of Chapter 16

You didn‘t think someone was still coming for Grogu from the Jedi Temple. Now you stood here with no child, but a dumb saber that Bo-Katan won‘t take. Seeing him broken, helmetless, exposed, but with all this armor and that saber. That reflected your feelings somehow. You knew this had to happen, but it broke a part of you anyway and made you vulnerable. You turned to look at Din, took his head into your hands and let his forehead gently fall against yours. „It‘s okay.“ You felt him shake and pull you close to his chest. „You‘re the only thing left.“ He whispered as the rest went ahead to meet Boba. „I won‘t leave you unless you ever want me to.“ You whispered back before he grabbed your face and put his desperation for home into a kiss. „We need a new ship.“ He murmured. „I might know how to steal one.“ You chuckled and caressed his cheek. „That‘s my girl.“ His thumb went over your lower lip. Where did he learn that? Was that allowed? „You look even better when you wear everything but the helmet.“ You bit your lip. „Is that your version of distraction?“ He huffed and you nodded with a chuckle. You liked flirting too much. With that you flew back to Nevarro and got a neat little ship, stolen by you and Greef. You made sure to fill it up with cozy things, reminders of what was and signs of hope for the future. For now you‘d stay a bit on Nevarro with it. He searched the whole thing for trackers after the horror of what happened to the crest, but after a couple days he finally settled in and removed his helmet around you. „Oh, hey good-looking man in beskar, are you here often?“ You grinned from your cot when he walked into the center room of the ship. „Depends on what you want from me.“ He chuckled and shook his head. „You look pretty tense, I‘m sure I could change that.“ Now he blushed at the possibilities crossing his mind. „I‘m intrigued, cyar‘ika.“ He smirked and came closer. „I was thinking cuddling, but judging by your face you have other plans.“ You laughed and stood up to knock against his chest plate. His armor was gone shortly after, „I love this.“ You scrunched your nose and hugged him close, you really did like this. He looked so human, so warm and huggable. His gloveless hands wandered down your back, stopping for a second, before wandering where they really wanted to go. You betted with yourself that he was secretly a grabby man after what happened in that hut. Turns out you were right. With a swift motion he hoisted you up to have you wrap your legs around him. „I like this,“ He mumbled and felt you smile against his neck. „Me too.“ Your hands wandered through his hair and you felt him relax even more. He sat down on your cot with you still wrapped around him. „You, um, have nice thighs.“ He pointed out sheepishly. „You know you can grab them anytime, right?“ You asked him. „Now I do.“ He huffed and gently caressed them before giving them a squeeze. „You can touch me all you want.“ You reassured him and felt him grab you by your hips so you untangled and he could fall back onto your cot with you on top of him. „That goes for you too, cyare.“ He pulled you closer by your chin. „What does that mean?“ „Beloved. Darling. Something like that.“ Now he was the one watching you get flustered and grinned. „Oh.“ You blinked a couple times, „You‘ve been saying that a lot.“ „Of course,“ he murmured and went through your hair. „Have you ever thought about settling on a planet?“ You mumbled, laying on his chest and looking up at him. „Once or twice. I think a lot of things would catch up to me.“ His voice hummed in his chest below you. „And creating a family?“ You whispered and saw him open one of his eyes. „I had one for a while, didn‘t I?“ You smiled at him and nodded. „You still have me. I wouldn‘t mind adopting another one.“ A chuckle escaped both of you. „Maybe one that isn‘t chased by the empire.“ He laughed lowly and went over your head gently. „We could make one too one day.“ You added as casual as possible and felt him tense under you. „Not like I have that many years left to do that.“ He pointed out with a huff. „Who said it would take many years?“ You whispered and crawled up on him to nuzzle into his neckline. „Where‘d you wanna settle?“ His arms snaked around you. „Preferably somewhere that isn‘t attacked every two years.“ Your muffled voice answered. „Now where‘s the fun in that, cyar‘ika?“ You kissed his neck and heard him hold his breath. „More than enough fun to have.“ You grabbed into his hair gently and felt his fingers grab into your hips. „I see.“ He murmured and closed his eyes again to enjoy your warmth. „Home is wherever you wanna go, my dear.“ He sighed and slowly dozed off.

___

Reblog to support a content creator.

[ghost-in-the-hella]

If you are still taking prompts, and were so inclined, 47 for Gideon the Ninth!

I am always so inclined. Enjoy this... this thing. Gets a bit rude because, well, Gideon.

47. “You look like hell.”

---

“You look like hell.”

Gideon startles at the sound of Coronabeth Tridentarius actually speaking to her. She sounds more intrigued than judgemental, as if hell were an exotic travel destination she’s not yet been to but is eager to learn more about. Gideon is, not for the first time, grateful for her affected vow of silence as all possibility of coherent thought abandons her tongue. She would surely be a stuttering gay mess if she tried to speak to a woman as beautiful as this particular princess of Ida. With her feigned vow, she can still pull off the “strong but silent” affect and at least somewhat salvage the impression of being a suave badass who’s great with the ladies.

Or she could if she weren’t currently a panting, heaving, sweat drenched, bone dust coated, blood smeared, tattered mess.

It figures that Harrow doesn’t even have to be in the same room with Gideon to have completely ruined her game. Gideon draws herself up to her full height and squares her shoulders - fighting the urge to slump into an exhausted heap on the floor - and straightens her crooked aviators. She hopes that her face paint is still a badass skull and not a runny mess of gray; they’re not big on mirrors down in the facility. Her spine stiffens as Coronabeth steps toward her, smiling like they’re sharing a secret, and brushes one perfect hand lightly at each of Gideon’s shoulders, scattering fine chips of bone onto the floor.

“Poor thing,” Coronabeth purrs, locking Gideon in place with intense eye contact even through her shades. “Your necro’s really running you ragged, isn’t she?”

The last thing Gideon wants to talk about while a beautiful woman is touching her - actually touching her! Okay, touching the shoulders of her robes, but still! - is her screeching ferret of a necromancer. Her distaste must show in her expression even through the caked on layers of sweaty paint because Coronabeth chuckles prettily and squeezes her shoulder - Gideon tenses her sick delts reflexively, desperate to please - and gives her a conspiratorial smirk. “That’s alright. I won’t ask you to divulge any forbidden secrets about the Ninth House or the trials.” She runs clever fingers around the hem of Gideon’s hood - a rumpled heap around her neck, having fallen down as she heaved herself up the ladder from the facility in a hurry to get herself to a sonic - and winks suggestively enough that Gideon swallows hard. “She really must be putting you through the ringer. You know, I feel quite sorry for you cavs sometimes. So much is asked of you, and you get so little in return…”

Gideon has passed out. Surely, this must be what has happened. She’ll wake up in her nest of black blankets with a dirty magazine glued to her face by skull paint and drool, completely covered in sticky notes blackened with Harrowhark’s vitriol. Because it sure as hell feels like Coronabeth - Coronabeth Tridentarius, crown Princess of Ida, hottest necromancer this side of the funny books - is flirting with her. With her. Gideon Nav, indentured servant of the Ninth, perpetually demeaned cavalier primary to her lifelong nemesis, hottest cavalier in history to never touch a boob that wasn’t her own. With her stupid, itchy black robes that still smell faintly of Ortus Nigenad’s flop sweat no matter how many times they’re laundered, with her overgrown and uncombed hair all full of cobwebs and bone dust, with her half-melted face paint of a creepy fucking skull not quite concealing her latest acne outbreak. So there’s no fucking way that this isn’t some delightful dream inspired by too many titty mags before bedtime.

Coronabeth’s hand slides down from Gideon’s shoulder, gliding down the length of her arm - trailing over the firm roundness of her deltoid, the jaw-dropping perfection of her biceps, the corded extensor muscles of her forearms - down to seize her calloused hand with her own surprisingly strong one. “I think you deserve something in return. Don’t you?” 

Okay. New thought. Maybe Gideon hasn’t passed out, but she’s probably going to if Coronabeth keeps touching her like this.

Gideon nods very carefully, trying not to let any drool drop from her mouth.

Coronabeth’s smile is as bright as Dominicus. She tugs Gideon’s hand and leads her down an unfamiliar hallway. Gideon follows obediently despite her necromancer’s warnings ringing in her head, shrieking at her to trust no one. Well, Gideon figures, if she’s a lamb being led to the slaughter, at least she’ll die happy. A girl’s holding her hand! Flirting with her! Smiling at her! Touching her muscles! 

Much to Gideon’s surprise, she is not promptly jumped and flesh magicked to death upon entry to the Third’s quarters. In fact, as far as she can tell, she’s alone in them with Coronabeth. Sure, she had to offer up a bit of blood to the gross ward on the door, but she’s already bleeding a little bit from her adventures in the facility anyway so that’s no biggie. 

She’s relieved to note that there are two big, ostentatious beds in addition to the smaller (but no less ostentatious) cavalier bed at the foot of one. If by some miracle she does get laid today, she’d really rather it not be in a bed that Ianthe Tridentarius has also slept or - God forbid - boned in. Coronabeth hustles her past the beds (dang) toward a large and opulent bathroom. “Here, get washed up.”

A fluffy purple towel is thrust into Gideon’s hands, there’s a gentle shove at her shoulders and the click of a door shutting, and suddenly Gideon is alone in the fanciest bathroom she’s ever seen. It’s even more ridiculous than the one in the Ninth’s quarters. She catches her own reflection in the mirror and finds that she looks every inch as confused as she is. “What the fuck?” she mouths to herself.

“I don’t hear washing happening!” comes Coronabeth’s mellifluous voice sing-songing through the door.

Gideon Nav fancies herself a remarkably strong person, the kind of person who could move mountains barehanded if she set her mind to it. Apparently, she has one fatal weakness: a beautiful woman telling her to do, well, literally anything. So Gideon obligingly scours the paint off her face - Harrow’ll be furious, but Harrow’s always furious and her paint’s a mess anyway - and inspects herself once more in the mirror. Sexy. Hot. Gorgeous. Little bit of acne at the hairline and around the left nostril, bit ruddy-cheeked from over-scrubbing, but still a flawless masterpiece of hotness. 

She sniffs her armpits. Pretty sweaty. Are chicks into that? If they’re going to bone (please, please, please) then won’t she get sweaty again anyway?

Wait, are they going to bone? They are, right? They’re alone in Corona’s quarters, her terrifying sister and their insufferable cav have clearly been sent away, and Corona’s super hot and bossing her around and dragging her into her bedroom (well, through her bedroom to her bathroom, but still). If this were one of Gideon’s magazines she'd already be up to her wrist, or at least majorly winning at tonsil hockey. This is literally a textbook scenario for boning.

Okay, then. It’s on. So now what? Should she brush her teeth or something? Her breath’s probably pretty rank after the morning she’s had. Should she, like… shave stuff? 

“You may draw a bath, if you like,” Corona calls through the door again. “Ianthe and Babs will be gone for hours. And something tells me that you have never been pampered.”

And so Gideon ends up taking the first ever bath of her life in the gilded bathtub of the Third. She can’t bring herself to fill the tub more than a couple of inches, even though from her skin mags and her comics she knows a bath is usually filled until the person in it is all but drowning, or at least until the bubbles are tastefully covering the good bits (comics) or just barely not covering them (skin mags). She does throw in several of the weird perfumy things hanging out around the tub at Corona’s urging. By the end of it, she’s pretty sure she’s dirtier than when she stepped in except that now she’s filthy with scented soaps and salts and glittery “bath bombs” (surprisingly not that violent but also surprisingly messy) instead of sweat and blood. She scrapes and scrubs at herself and then gives her body and her clothes a good shake out in the sonic for good measure. She borrows some toothpaste and uses her finger as a toothbrush, then rinses with borrowed mouthwash. 

There’s a fluffy purple and gold robe that smells a bit like Corona’s perfume and seems the right size, so even though it’s a million miles off from her usual aesthetic she consents to shrug it on. It’s impossibly soft and warm and smooth. Stops a bit short on her thighs, but presumably that won’t get any complaints.

When she steps back out into the Third’s quarters, Gideon feels strangely vulnerable without her protective layer of filth. She smells like a stranger, and her fingertips and toes are wrinkled in a weird way that she assumes has to do with the bath bombs or maybe with how hard she was scrubbing. That, or she’s picked up some freaky skin disease from the Third’s bathtub. She hopes she’s not about to die or something.

Corona looks beyond delighted to see her emerge, ruddy and steaming, from the bathing chamber in her ludicrous little bathrobe. It’s a shame that it’s short on the leg coverage and heavy on the arm coverage, since Gideon’s legs are fucking awesome but not nearly as impressive as her guns. She wants to ask what Corona has planned for her now, but her stupid oath to Harrow stays her tongue. If all goes well, Coronabeth might have a better use for her tongue than words, anyway. So instead she stands there trying to look impressive rather than panicky and overstimulated.

“Come here,” Corona beckons with an elegant finger, her eyes glittering like shards of polished amethyst. Gideon’s pretty sure that Corona’s not using any necromantic tricks on her - she knows what that shit feels like by now, and it’s vastly unpleasant - but she follows her gesture as inexorably as if Corona were looping a leash of thanergy around her throat and dragging her closer. 

And then Coronabeth Tridentarius is touching her. Like, pretty much everywhere. “Hmmm, let’s see,” she murmurs thoughtfully as she palpates what feels like every trembling inch of Gideon’s being (apart from the good bits, but maybe this is what foreplay is? she’s heard of it, but her magazines usually skip straight to the main event). Instead of trying to think, Gideon focuses on feeling, which is much more in her wheelhouse.

Corona’s nimble fingers carding through her damp red locks (they could stand a trim), fingernails sending tingles through her scalp as they scratch gently against skin that’s never been touched in kindness before. Fingertips trailing down the strong line of her jaw, gently seizing her square chin and turning her face to every possible angle, her gaze as palpable as her fingers. Strong hands (how does the Princess of Ida have actual calluses on her fingers?) testing her muscles, examining her hands and paying particular attention to her fingernails (they could also stand a trim).

“You look good in my robe,” Corona announces, taking a step back and allowing Gideon to breathe for what feels like the first time since she set foot in her quarters. “Gold suits you.” She locks eyes with Gideon and quirks her lips into a subtle smirk. “Gold suits you very well.”

Gideon swallows hard, trying not to gulp audibly and concentrating on not sweating through her borrowed robe.

“Much better than black. Not that you look bad in black, mind you, but there are other colors that would be much more flattering for your lovely complexion.”

She takes Gideon by the hand and leads her over to an over-decorated table that Gideon observes is overflowing with cosmetics. “For example… Hmmm… Plum?” Corona holds up a tube of something that’s a deep, bruised purple, examining its contrast with Gideon’s skin. “Or perhaps mauve…”

Coronabeth is insatiable. Gideon is left exhausted. When she finally emerges from the Third House’s quarters (very much not laid), hours have passed and she feels as if she has run a marathon. Not from any outward exertion, but from the effort of holding still and keeping silent throughout the whole ordeal.

She is perhaps the most sexually frustrated she has ever been in her life, having never been touched by a woman (and what a woman!) so much before, or really at all before unless she counts herself or the shriveled crones of the Ninth.

She is also… well. Made over. Her hair has been combed and styled, and it reeks of hair gel almost as badly as Naberius Tern’s does on an average day. Her nails have been trimmed, filed, and buffed smooth before being painted a soft lilac and accented with shimmering gold. Her face has been rendered utterly unrecognizable; Harrowhark would likely envy the sheer amount of makeup on it if only it were in the design of a skull rather than whatever peacocky nonsense Coronabeth’s done to it. She is, at least, in her own black robes despite Coronabeth’s best efforts to get her to borrow some of Babs’s gaudy frippery.

She suspects she has, in fact, been fucked by the Third after all.

She slinks down the hall as stealthily as she can manage, thanking her lucky stars that her necro is probably half-dead in a bone or buried up to her pointy little goblin ears in ancient books or possibly both rather than being a normal, decent human being who might give a fuck where her cavalier has vanished off to for hours on end with one of her greatest rivals. She’s hoping that everyone else in Canaan House will be equally preoccupied and that she’ll be able to return to the safety of her chambers with her dignity at least partially intact when she rounds a corner and nearly faceplants directly into the solid mass of Camilla the Sixth.

Gideon draws herself up to her fullest and most imposing posture and tries to mask her humiliation as best she can. Camilla observes her cooly, but Gideon swears her fellow cav is just barely holding back a laugh. 

After a small but excruciating eternity in limbo, Camilla steps aside to let Gideon dart gratefully past. Camilla casts a few words over her shoulder as Gideon passes, and they follow her burning ears all the way down the hall and back to her quarters: “You look like hell, Nav.”

[kar-krashew]

you that i lie with [AO3]

Magnus is a private investigator, and Alec is a master thief. Obviously, they fall in love.

Rated T

Shoutout to @peachygos, @rainyhuman, and @arsenic-creator <3

Magnus sighs as he flicks through the file in his hand for what’s possibly the tenth time today, skimming over each page once again in a desperate attempt to find new information, new leads, new anything— as long as it’s something that will help the case. If Ragnor was here, he’d probably say something about the definition of insanity and doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results, and then Magnus would say something about shutting up, Ragnor, and the other would then laugh and hand the file over to him anyway. Besides, Magnus didn’t become a private investigator just to ignore his gut feeling, and he definitely didn’t become one to listen to other people. So he’s here now, hunched over his desk, sorting through pages that he can practically recite by heart.

By the eleventh pass, he’s starting to think Ragnor would’ve been right. Dammit, Magnus is never going to hear the end of this.

“Goddamned Morgensterns,” he swears under his breath. If only he’d turned Jocelyn down all those years ago, when she’d shown up at his doorstep with her little girl and begged for help. If only he’d told her no, then he wouldn’t be caught up between their murderous family feud, watching as the people around him die because he wasn’t able to connect the dots or find a clue fast enough.

God, who is he kidding? He never would’ve said no.

Magnus Bane saves people; it’s one of the worst things about him.

Fuck, he thinks, fuck. Curse his fucking hero complex, curse his fucking job, curse the day he tried helping Clarissa Fairchild. He’s always known it would come back to bite him in the ass.

Magnus exhales, and closes his eyes. Just one more time; he’s sure he’ll find something. He’ll look through the file one more time, and then call it a day. Whatever he finds, he’ll roll with it. Just one more time, he repeats to himself, which is exactly when his fingers stumble upon a slip of paper stuck in between the creases of an old newspaper clipping.

Hotel Dumont, the note reads, L.

“Oh,” Magnus says. His heart flutters as his eyes pass over the three words, once, twice, thrice, committing the messy scrawl to memory until it’s been imprinted behind his eyelids.

Hotel Dumont.

L.

He knew there was something of use in that file. He’s never going to let Ragnor hear the end of this.

--

The newspaper clipping that Magnus had found the note in was one detailing the illustrious career of Alexander Gideon Lightwood: former heir to the Lightwood fortune, now known amongst the upper class as the city’s most notorious thief. While there are quite a few fantastical urban legends about him, the most popular is that most of his “earnings” go to those in need, while another common one claims that he’s got a particular soft spot for detectives in gold eyeliner. Whatever you believe, it’s obvious he’s a terrible choice for a friend, partner, or anything really; he’s dangerous, reckless, untrustworthy, and Magnus is pretty sure he’s halfway in love with the guy.

“The man is a criminal, Magnus,” Raphael says at the front desk, frowning even as he hands over a room key. He leans over the desk and grabs Magnus’s hand. “Look, just don’t do anything stupid.”

Magnus accepts the key with a flourish and flashes a smile. “When have I ever, darling?” he winks, then abruptly turns around and walks down the line of doors before Raphael can respond.

They both know the answer to that question; especially when it comes to Alec.

He takes a deep breath as he approaches the room. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He just has to hear out whatever Alexander has to say, speak his own piece, and then they’ll split ways, never to cross paths again. It’s a simple plan, and all he has to do to get it over with is open the door.

All he has to do is open—

“Planning to just stare at that key all day, Detective Bane, or are you going to come in anytime soon?” a voice says, and Magnus jolts backwards in surprise before looking up, because he’d know that voice anywhere, and oh, it’s Alexander, standing in front of him with his pale skin and warm eyes and smiling, and Magnus missed him so much, he wants to kiss his face senseless, he’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s—

He’s—

Alec is. . . well, he’s, uh—

“Are you naked?”

Alexander rolls his eyes and opens the door to reveal that he isn’t, in fact, naked; but that isn’t to say that he’s not very close to it, with nothing covering his body other than a towel draped loosely around his hips, riding far too low for it to be doing anything in terms of modesty. In fact, it’s doing the opposite, really, and Magnus is finding it increasingly difficult to look at something that isn’t Alec’s chest.

Oh, god.

“Ah,” Magnus says after a long moment. Alec smiles knowingly and leans against the doorframe, which is not helping, Jesus Christ. “Well! You seem otherwise preoccupied. I’ll just, ahem, I can always come back at a more opportune time.”

He’s just about to pivot on his heel and vow to never return here again when a hand shoots out and grabs his arm, pulling him closer to the man in front of him. This close, he can see the small scar on Alec’s chin, the flecks of green in his eyes, the stray hairs sticking out behind his ear, and his breath hitches as Alexander brings his mouth even closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I was expecting you,” Alec murmurs, voice low and honey-sweet. “You just caught me right after a shower. Come in, I’ll get dressed.” He smiles when Magnus nods dumbly, then turns to head back in the room, treating the other to a full view of his bare shoulders as he moves.

Magnus swallows. He has a horrible feeling that he’s not going to survive this.

“So, Mr. Bane,” Alec starts once they’re inside. He hands Magnus a bottle of wine with a grin, and gestures to two glasses set up on a side table before he turns away. “What brings you here?” He fiddles with the hem of his towel teasingly as he walks towards a dressing screen set up in the corner of the room, and Magnus’s mouth goes dry with the implication of the movement.

No. He’s not thinking about it. He is not thinking about it. He is not thinking about it—

—and Alexander drops his towel to the floor before stepping behind the screen. Oh my god, Magnus is way too fucking sober for this. He’s going to die here, and it’s going to be Alec’s and Alec’s ass’s fault.

Fuck. He’s getting sidetracked.

“I got your message,” Magnus finally replies, coughing awkwardly and shifting his attention to the bottle in his hand. He pops open the cork as Alec hums from behind the partition.

“I didn’t think you’d come, even if you did find the note,” he calls across the room. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me you’ve solved the case I gave you earlier.”

Oh, right: Hodge Starkweather, missing persons case. Magnus had received a mysteriously blank envelope in the mail just a few days prior, containing nothing but a picture of the man, the name “Starkweather,” and an “L.” scrawled across the back; Ragnor had found the message pretty much immediately, and made Magnus swear he wouldn’t take the case.

Not that it helped.

“I did find your man, actually,” Magnus says, taking a deep breath. “He’s dead.” The shuffling from behind him stops abruptly.

“Oh.” Another moment passes. Magnus quietly pours wine into the glasses in front of him until he hears Alec clear his throat. “Alright, well, if this isn’t a business visit, what is it?”

“It’s an Alexander-please-leave-this-city-before-I-find-you-dead-in-a-ditch-somewhere visit,” Magnus replies, which makes Alec laugh as he steps out from behind the partition in tight black pants and a button-down shirt.

(Most assume he’d have more lavish tastes with the amount of money he’s acquired, but Magnus has always liked this toned-down version of him. Alec looks young like this, unaffected by the troubles that have touched him, like there’s a bit of foolishness and hope in him that the horrible world outside can never take away.)

“Well, that makes this a social visit, then,” he grins lopsidedly, in that way that makes Magnus want to reach out and touch his mouth with his fingertips, holding out a glass of wine in offering. “Do you really think I can’t take care of myself? This is hardly the first death threat I’ve faced, you know that.”

God, he’s so unbothered and careless about this— doesn’t he fucking get it? “This is different,” Magnus insists. “Please, Alexander, listen to me. Leave. Leave before they can find you,” he begs, but Alec stays unbothered.

“Magnus, it’s fine. Calm down, I’ll be okay.” He rolls his eyes when Magnus frowns, and holds his hand out further. “Have a drink, you’ll feel better,” he says, in a move that’s meant to be reassuring and Magnus just— he snaps.

“Fuck your drink!” he shouts, shoving Alec’s hand to the side. Liquid sloshes over the rim of the glass, staining the carpet, and Raphael’s going to throw a tantrum over it tomorrow and glare at him the whole time, but Magnus doesn’t care, he can’t care, not with so many more important things at stake right now, things that Alexander doesn’t seem to care about at all. “Your life is on the line! Your Robin Hood routine has worked great these past few years, but it won’t mean anything if you’re dead tomorrow, Alexander! I know you’re not afraid, but what if I am? I can’t—” He cuts off with a strangled sound and looks away.

“I can’t— I won’t be able to handle finding you like the others,” he murmurs.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, he wasn’t supposed to say that, it’s too honest, it’s too vulnerable, too open, and now Alec is staring at him, probably getting ready to laugh at him or tell him he cares too much or that he’s insane, and God, that’s always it, isn’t it? He’s always cared too much, and now he’s going to lose the one person who didn’t know that yet, who he hadn’t scared off with all of his stupid fucking baggage, because he messed it up, like he always does with everyone.

“Magnus,” Alec says.

Magnus’s mouth tightens as he continues to avoid eye contact. “Magnus, hey, look at me.” Gentle fingers cradle his chin, tilting his face upwards until his gaze meets Alec’s. There’s a warmth there that Magnus hadn’t expected to see, and it’s startling in how tender it is. Magnus has half a mind to look away again.

“You’ve always saved people,” Alec says softly, still holding Magnus’s jaw. “I’ve always loved that about you. But who saves you?”

Magnus blinks. “What?” he says, but Alexander shakes his head before he’s leaning in slowly, shifting his hand to cup Magnus’s cheek, and oh.

Something dislodges in Magnus’s stomach as he takes it all in: the softness of Alexander’s lips, the emotion he pours into each breath, the gentle exhale he lets out before pressing his mouth against Magnus’s again. It all feels like coming home, like his world’s been tilted on an axis his whole life and it’s finally clicked back into place with the gentle press of Alec’s lips on his.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers. They’re still close enough that he can feel Alec’s errant little smile against the bridge of his upper lip, both of them unwilling to part further than necessary to breathe, and he reaches out to clutch at his shoulders when the other man leans in for a another small kiss, this one indulgent and sweet.

“If I leave,” Alec says, brushing his nose against Magnus’s, “I can’t save you.” He brings his other hand up to trace Magnus’s lower lip with his thumb. “You need someone to save you, Magnus. The same way you do with others.”

Magnus inhales shakily. “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I know you’re somewhere safe,” he replies, but Alexander shakes his head again.

“You won’t. And I can’t leave you here,” he murmurs. He presses their foreheads together and runs his hand against Magnus’s cheek. “Let me help you, for once.”

Magnus sighs. He thinks about the people he’s lost in these few weeks, the guilt that’s been eating him alive from the inside-out everytime he thinks about them, but he knows Alec won’t leave, the same way Magnus wouldn’t have left if the roles were reversed. They’ve always been like that: looking out for each other. Saving each other. Magnus was foolish to think Alexander would leave now.

“Okay,” he says, and Alec’s face lights up. “Okay.”

“Good.”

He intertwines their fingers, and they stand there for a moment, breathing each other in, until Alec’s smile turns playful. “Now, I had this super sexy plan that involved a lot more of that towel to seduce you into that bed there, just because it seemed like the sort of thing to do,” he says, “but what do you say we just take a nap?”

Magnus laughs. They both don’t have time for things like naps, they both have things to do, entire worlds to attend to, but then he looks back up at Alec and thinks: their worlds can wait for one day. They can have this.

“Yes,” he replies, “That sounds lovely.” He takes Alec’s hand, letting him lead him to the bed, and settles into the sheets, curling his body towards the other as he does so.

“This was a horrible idea. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep when I know you’re here,” Alec whispers after a moment. “I never want to look away.” Magnus smiles, trying to keep the mood light despite the way his breath catches.

“You’re a sap.” He leans in to steal another kiss, and grins. “Also, for the record, I wouldn’t be opposed to the seduction plan later,” he adds, which prompts Alexander to snort loudly even as his eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement.

“Good to know,” he says. “Good to know.”

They’ll probably discuss that more thoroughly tomorrow. For now, they sleep.

[wisteria-blooms]

apparition licence (fred weasley & reader)

summary

“You know, he’d be right pissed,” George said leaning over the counter, a semblance of his old self taking hold of him, as if his twin were there alongside him to agree, “if you’d finally gotten your bloody licence and never apparated again.”

In which Fred Weasley’s promises to you are cut short. 

warnings: major character death, major radio hit

apparition licence (2,485 words)

For the longest time, you knew you loved Fred Gideon Weasley. Loved him in his youth, white Christmases when freshly-sewn oversized jumpers swallowed his awkward and lanky frame. Loved him through the phases of his rebelliously long hair, silently cheering for him on the sidelines as he attempted to swindle the age line with George. Loved and laughed at him as he turned snot green from a miscalculation on a product he tested on himself. Loved him entire summers as the freckles on his skin darkened and his fiery hair seemingly set ablaze under the beating hot sun. Loved him as he streaked through wreckage and rainbow fireworks in your fifth year, leaving the formality of education behind in his own way. And loved him when he promised to do the same for you when you graduated.

Through the insanity of their pranks and your willingness to volunteer as their reliable product tester, Fred always handled you like delicate flower. His love, unbeknownst to you, was especially prominent when you begged him to teach you how to apparate before you were legally allowed to. The sweltering August you spent cooped up at 12 Grimmauld Place, you’d become particularly persistent. That summer was when the twins had just gotten licensed in apparition, abusing the privilege much to their mother’s chagrin. You couldn’t get anywhere in the house without hearing the familiar crack, and Fred’s warm body suddenly flush against yours. He’d laugh when you jump back in surprise but not before pulling you towards him in an embrace. How you loved feeling his warm flesh on yours, fingers intertwined in his when you fell back on the sofa.

“Why not now?” You pleaded, face close to his, much closer than friends should be. The question of your relationship was something you vowed to resolve after the impending war.

“Nope,” he spoke firmly, drawing circles with his calloused thumb on your hand. “Next year, you’ll learn it properly.”

“But I can’t take the test until the year after.”

“Summer birthdays are just awful things, aren’t they?” He teased, a form of payback from all his spring birthdays spent in the rain.

“Fred,” you huffed. “You and George break so many rules anyway, what’s different about this one?”

He racked his head for an excuse.

“Nothing,” he stated with a wink. “Just that you’d look bloody gross if you were splinched.”

You made a face. Fred looked at you with an uncharacteristic tenderness. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to teach you at all; it was the thought of his teachings failing that terrified him. If Ron splinched, he would’ve sat there laughing with George before his twin would realize the severity of the situation and call for help. If it was Ron that was reprimanded by the Ministry for underage apparition, he’d tease him endlessly, knowing his father would step in for that little git. But not you. You just sat there pleading with perfectly pouted lips, and the temptation to just kiss you right there was taking precedence in his heart.  But no, not now. No, for you, everything had to be right and proper.

“Now, if you stop asking, I may take you for a side-along stroll through this place,” he offered instead.

You looked back to the kitchen where Molly was preparing tonight’s dinner, humming as she chopped carrots and onions and stirred the stew, blissfully unaware of her son’s proposition.

“You’d really?”

He held out his arm.

“Really.”

With a crackle, you were both gone, the last thing you heard being Molly’s voice scolding Fred for excessive apparition. You appeared in a spare room where Ron was rehearsing something akin to flirting in front of the closet mirror. Before he could react – crackle – you appeared in an unused bedroom where Kreacher was quietly pilfering through old possessions. The old house elf turned around a second too late, because you were now in the twins’ room, where George was laying on his back, twinkling a prototype of some sort between two fingers. He looked up, noticing your arm still linked in Fred’s, and smiled.

The rest of the day was well-spent using Extendable Ears to listen in on Ron’s feeble attempts at chatting up women.

The disappearances of Fred and George in your last year left a gaping hole in your heart. Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s absence did nothing to soothe that pain. Where Headmaster Dumbledore used to sit, it was Headmaster Snape. Where Filch used to censure, there were the Carrows. Where grumbles came from being forced to write lines or polish trophies, instead echoed screams of pain from deep down the dark hallways. You remained quiet, bit your tongue and obeyed the rules to just get through it all. You prayed every day for your friends’ safety. And if there was anything to get you through this horrible year, it was the prospect of passing your apparition test in April. And Neville, who turned out to be surprisingly good at emphasizing with your worries and your confiding in him of your long-time infatuation with Fred Weasley. Being the kind boy he always was, he assured you you’d see him again, that he’d feel the same way about you. You felt relief wash over you at his words. 

When this was over, no matter how bloodied and bruised any of you were, you’d leap into Fred’s arms, relishing in the feeling of him spinning you around in celebration. His girl, he’d proclaim. Then in his melodic laughter, you’d kiss him for the first time. And the rest of the story would write itself.

But as comforting as his words were, they were heinously wrong. That ill-fated night came beating down like a sledgehammer to a mirror, shattering your hopes and dreams. You’d gotten just a quick glance at Fred alongside his brother Percy before the walls caved in, taking him and twenty years of joy and jubilant laughter in the aftermath. All you got to see after braving the worst year of your life was his lifeless stare as he was laid in the makeshift infirmary. His hand didn’t offer the same warmth and protection as they always did, instead, they were bitterly cold in yours. Through tears, you whispered about all the things you planned to do after you’d gotten your apparition licence, fully knowing he couldn’t hear a damn thing. He was gone. You cried and cried into his chest, stopping only when Molly pulled you up and embraced you, shedding her own tears with you. A mother’s intuition always knew, but this was a love that would never be.

Months after, you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Apparate. A skill you yearned so strongly to do, waited for that April day so patiently for. And no, not for just yourself. No, the sensation of it and any talks of it was always reminiscent of Fred Weasley. The feeling of taking his strong arm, the smell of his well-worn flannel– of bonfires and the warmth of a loving home – and the sound of his strong heartbeat as you lay against his chest. He lavished you with grand dreams of how you were going to apparate around the country à la Weasley after this was over, to the salty seaside of the beach, paying a quick visit to Bill and Fleur at the Shell Cottage, then through the earthy forest where you could spend the day with just nature, then through modern London for a quick show, then re-appear in the Burrow without barely a sound, but always just in time for dinner.

Now, all the wonderful memories sunk to the bottom of the ocean, never to be found again.

So, you’d taken to chimneys and flying for your travels. It was slower but at least it didn’t hurt. At the very least, a walk to the lovely shopping streets signified that things were back to normal. As normal as they’d ever be after the brutality of war. Boarded shops slowly opened their doors again, painting some much needed colour after a grey drought. You’d taken to buying small quantities of floo powder, sparsely replenishing your little flowerpot on the fireplace mantle every Monday. Weekly trips became routine and whether it was healthy or not, you didn’t care.

One early morning with nothing in particular to do, you found yourself on a walk to Diagon Alley. The skies were amber and the sun was shyly tucked under the horizon. You were probably Floo-Pow’s first client of the day, and you wondered if anyone thought oddly of you for making so many stops here. But what would they know? This was your way of coping, and no matter how ridiculous it was, it helped you.

You paid your sickles and received your purchase in a bag through a small wooden hole. You then stopped at a bakery. With it being so early in the day, the only patrons were other storeowners who sought peace before opening their own doors. They sat nursing their coffees and languidly flipping through The Daily Prophet. You didn’t even have to ask the employee at the counter, who memorized your order: two coffees, a few pastries, and a copy of today’s news. With your purchases in stow, you slowly walked to your last destination.

93 Diagon Alley. The brightest store of the lot of them here was Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

George let you in immediately when he saw you waiting at the window. There was barely a quiet moment in this shop, so early mornings were quite inviting.

“Morning, Georgie,” you greeted as the doors opened for you, watching the younger twin stock his store. You held up the coffee and a bag of pastries. “Breakfast?”

“You didn’t have to,” he murmured, descending his ladder and cleaning his hands with a towel before making his way to the door. He always thought it should be him treating you with all the earnings of his business. Nonetheless, he accepted your weekly offering of breakfast as usual, a sentimental token of your thoughts. “Thanks.”

You did your best not to wallow in sadness in George’s presence; it made you feel selfish. George had lost his twin brother, his loyal partner in all his marvellous mischief, and most importantly, a part of himself. You had just lost a friend. You were not Fred’s family, you had not grown up together, had not taken your first steps or said your first words together. You had no right to complain or to pity yourself at the future you lost when George got up every day and continued his brother’s legacy the best he could.

As he bit into his pastry, he eyed the little sack you kept at your side.

“Again?” He raised an eyebrow.

You flushed.

“I know, it’s such a stupid thing to get hung up on,” you admitted, remembering how he said the same thing last week. “But I just can’t do it, Georgie. It still hurts.”

George sighed.

“You know, he spent that entire week asking if you’d gotten your licence,” he recalled, in reference to the week that elapsed between your examination and the final battle, the day of Fred’s death. “And of all the crazy things you were going to do. I was sure he’d forgotten I even existed.”

You chuckled before the first tear rolled down your cheek, memories of things that would never be consuming your mind.

“With distinction, like you,” you said, voice wavering. You were at least glad that you remained in Fred’s last thoughts. “I was so excited to tell him.”

The younger Weasley twin handed you a handkerchief from his jacket which you happily accepted.

“I reckon he knew,” he said through a sip of coffee, “Longbottom might’ve said something to him.”

You dabbed your tears, a smile lighting your face. So, he knew. He must’ve known before he passed. 

“You know, he’d be right pissed,” George said leaning over the counter, a semblance of his old self taking hold of him, as if his twin were there alongside him to agree, “if you’d finally gotten your bloody licence and never apparated again.”

The image of Fred jokingly chiding you for your wasted efforts in your head caused you to laugh. Genuine bouts of laughter. How could you have never realized? He would’ve revelled in your ability to apparate so flawlessly like him, and what a shame it’d be if you never did it again because of him.

“I suppose you’re right,” you admitted. “He’d be so upset with me.”

“Mum's making a big breakfast today,” George stated, taking a quick glance at the clock to his left, its centre adorned with a puppet Weasley caricature. Its abnormally small finger on its left hand long past seven and its large finger on the other was pointing precariously close to the twelve.  “If you can make it by eight, she’d love to have you.”

“I’ve always loved your mom,” you complimented, thinking of how loving Molly was, and how at certain points in your life, she considered you her own daughter and her, your own mother.

You spent your last moments of sunrise embracing George, feeling the pain of losing Fred slowly dissipate. One day it would disappear completely, but to start that process, you had to start taking the first steps. To not fear what Fred loved to do. What he would’ve loved you to do in his absence. 

“Careful now,” George warned, chin rested on your head as he stroked your hair. “Don’t splinch yourself.”

“With distinction, George Fabian Weasley,” you corrected, “I passed with distinction.”

And so you left George’s presence, disappearing from the shop with barely a sound as the stubby finger of the Weasley caricature jerked upwards to meet the eight. The familiar rush of apparating coursed through your body. Your friends often described it as though being unpleasantly squeezed, but for you, it was the nostalgic feeling of holding onto Fred Weasley’s arm as you apparated alongside him in Grimmauld Place. It was the blazing rush of his sun-kissed arms, strong around you, keeping you safe as if hurting you was the worst thing he could ever do. It was the excruciating bliss of his lips against your cheek, on your forehead, but not your lips lest he mess it all up. It was every glorious sunrise you saw outside your windows, staying up far too late to fulfill orders with him and sleeping when his mother called for breakfast. It was the unbridled joy you felt, heart tingling listening the wild promises of what was to come. It was the longing anticipation of him telling him how proud of he was of you in front of all his friends and family, how he knew his girl could do it.

But proud you would make him as you walked up the hill to the Burrow, feeling that in some ways, Fred would always be alongside you.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you 

[starksvixen]

Reunited (Platonic)

Summary: Long ago, in a galaxy far far away...your home planet was invaded at the start of the Empire’s invasion. Your memory fails you of the event, only giving you a glimpse in on that day. Your brother, Din Djaren. A smooth flow through your veins. And a Mandalorian helmet. No one knows what happened to your brother, until a years later when you are reunited in an unexpected way. 

Warnings: Violence, cuteness overload from a youngling, not entirely accurate of the season 1 finale, angsty ending

-~-

The smooth metal against your fingertips is a welcome feeling as you help Mando prepare for liftoff, the child laying safely in your arms. Despite the comfort you felt in the motion, your heart was beating out of your chest with nerves. You and the Mandalorian were preparing to meet with Greef Karga, in hopes to get the Empire off your tail so the youngling could be safe. The plan seemed too shaky for your liking, but you followed Mando’s lead as always. 

He was all you had left. 

Sitting in the seat behind Mando, you look down at the sleeping child and a wave of memories washes over you. How you used to lay the same way in your Master’s arms after training long and hard. His soft Scottish accent rising you for your supper. Counting the soft grey specks appearing in his brown and blonde beard as you ate together. 

It had been well over a decade since you watched the monster that was Darth Vader pierce his very being with the red beam you had learned to hate. 

After Ben, or Obi - Was as you had learned to call him, died at the hands of Vader, you promised to never be under the Force’s influence in an effort to avoid joining the dark side. Despite your confidence in your choice, your lack of use of the power left a large hole in your life, just like Obi - Wan had left. 

You turned to bounty hunting to keep busy and get by. That’s when your paths crossed with the Mandalorian. It took some convincing, but Mando eventually pushed you into the duo you make up today. That hole had been filled by the masked warrior, and for the past two years, things were simple. He was your family, even if you weren’t blood. 

“(Y/N)?” his raspy voice echoes in your head. You wake from your slumber, feeling the small child still in your arms as he still snores.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” you ask, your voice crackling from the sudden change in sleep. 

Mando simply nods at you as he heads down to the cargo bay. You follow after him, gently waking the child in the process. Kuiil had made a floating bassinet for the child, which you simply laid him in before rolling your shoulders from your uncomfortable sleeping position.

“(Y/N),” Mando says while standing beside Cara, fumbling with one of his blasters. “Show her.”

You nod and take Cara to your weapons shelf, unlocking it and showing your range of Mandalorian and normal weapons. 

“Take your pick,” you say simply. 

Reaching forwards, you grab your favorite blaster, attaching it to your hip. A few bombs here and there and you felt prepared. But when you turn to Cara, you see the hilt of your old saber in her hand. 

“What the hell is this?”

You quickly snatch it out of her hand, gently sliding it into the empty slot of your belt on instinct, the leather still being tight from lack of use. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

Quickly, you close the shelf and meet the rest of the group outside the ship. Mando holds his hand out to you from a top the giant beast he had mounted. Your hand slips in his like a glove, accepting the boost with gratitude as you straddle it behind him. The beasts slowly begin to move and every so often, you turn to check on the floating cradle that followed you. 

“Are you sure we can trust him, Mando?” you whisper. 

“I’m not sure of anything right now. But if things turn south, you grab the child and you get back to the Razer Crest, got it?” 

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” 

You sigh, not wanting to push the issue any further.

After some hours of travel, you met with Greef Karga and a couple of his men. Things were definitely still tense between the two parties. Nevertheless, you settled in part of the desert for the night, deeming it safer then wandering. Boy, were you guys wrong. 

Suddenly, birds easily the size of a X-Wing manifested from the darkness. You automatically guarded the child’s bassinet, watching as Mando in turn protected both of you. Blaster in hand, you shot at the birds to cover him and to keep them away from the child. After a close call with almost losing the child and your partner, the dust began to settle. 

You gently lift the child out of his bassinet, bouncing him around to soothe his cries as you walked into the group. They all surrounded Greef Karga, a nasty wound on his arm that Cara desperately tried to treat. That’s when you felt it. 

Looking down at the youngling in your arms, you could feel the cold, smooth touch of the Force tickle your skin like light wind. He whimpers softly, his tiny hand reaching towards the wounded man. Gently, you let him down beside Karga. Cara immediately reacted, trying to push the child away.

“No,” you say firmly. “Let him.”

Within a matter of seconds, Karga’s arm was healed and the child was back in your arms. Gently, you lay him into the bassinet, smiling softly at the youngling before sitting down in front of the floating egg. Looking towards Mando, you knew you didn’t have to look under his helmet to know he was shocked. With a soft smirk and a wink, you lean against the crib, falling into a light sleep. 

When daylight hit, all of you were back on your feet. As you approached the hunter’s city, Karga quickly revealed what the real plan was. To kill you and Mando. Instead, he killed his lackies.

“So what do we do now?” you ask through gritted teeth.  

“The Child won’t be left alone until the buyer is dead, so the hunters have no reason to keep following us.” Mando says from beside you.

“Well, I’ll pretend I captured you both.” Karga replies. “Bring you into the boss and then you kill him.”

“I’m coming with you, pretend that I helped capture you.” Cara adds.

Mando hands over his blaster, you following suit. But when it came to your saber, you became very hesitant, not wanting your last piece of Obi - Wan to fall into the wrong hands.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I ain’t got all day.” Karga says, holding out his hand. 

“Call me sweetheart again, you won’t see another day,” you reply quickly, tempted to pull out your saber and light it. 

You hear Mando chuckle softly from beneath the safety of his helmet. 

Slowly, you hand the saber over and let the pair of cuffs wrap around your wrists lightly. You follow Cara and Karga from behind, but you still peer behind you to make sure that Kuiil still has the child safe with him. 

-~-

To say your plan had gone smoothly would be a lie. Going from being in handcuffs to being holed up in the crumbling building was something you had seen coming yet you still walked right into. Using one of the tables as a shield, you listen as Moff Gideon tries to coax you into surrendering and leaving whatever safety the building was offering you. He goes on and on about his big gun, making you roll your eyes. But when he speaks of the Mandalorian, you stop and listen:

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin-” 

Din Djarin. 

Din Djarin. 

It echoed in your head like a bad song. 

The screams of that day came back to you as if their ghosts were haunting you that very minute. Your brother, Din, holding your fragile body in his arms as your parents ushered you both into the bunker. Listening to the muffled sounds from outside making you squirm within yourself. The Mandalorian that saved you both, only to turn around and tear you apart.

“Din, no!” you remember screaming as another Mandalorian split you up.

“She’s my sister! I have to protect her!” Din screamed at the other soldier holding him. 

That’s how Obi - Wan had found you. The soldier you fought against for days had tracked him down to train you. A force sensitive child had no place in the new Mandalorian ranks. You never saw your brother after that day. 

You look at the metal mask now, wondering what your brother looked like now, after all these years. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, tears streaming down your face at an alarming pace. 

“I couldn’t let you know, (Y/N). I would just put you in more danger.” he replies calmly. 

“But you practically begged me to join you!” you yell, jumping to your feet, your hand flying to your newly returned saber. “You kept me close enough and kept this lie from me!” 

“I wanted to tell you! But it never seemed like the right time!” 

“I would’ve gathered hear it from my own brother then the enemy!”

“Would you two calm down!” Karga yelled over both of you. “You can figure out this family squabble when we get outta here.”

Wiping away your tears, you distance yourself from the Mandalorian, watching the troops outside. Despite the mask, you could feel his eyes boring into you, most likely filled with regret. 

Part 2? 

Tag List: (leave a comment on the masterlist to be added) 

toribentleyva  mikariell95 edgy-wedgy-poo  tillytheslytherin  irishfaulk97 supergingerlocks  aeryn--sun  nedxwynert  forbidden-darkness

[purplebass]

Dark Light - Last Chapter // Blackdale

Hi everyone! Thank you for reading this. It was the first multi-chapter fan fiction I finished, so this is a great accomplishment for me. I really hope you enjoyed this. I loved writing it, and I hope you will also check out my work in the future. Enjoy, and thank you!!! 🥺🌼✨

Couple/Characters: Blackdale, Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn Rating: T

10. Last Chapter + Epilogue

There wasn’t time to do anything, because the moment they took Tatiana Blackthorn away, they also asked for Lucie and Jesse to come back to London. It is probably temporary, Lucie thought, since they just needed them to testify against the woman. Deep down, she wanted to return to the Institute for good. Maybe it was too early to hope that the Clave would change their mind about their exile. She didn’t want to keep her hopes up for them to be crushed again, so she didn’t hope for anything.

That night, she enjoyed Cordelia’s company in front of the fire. The others had left already, and they had taken Jesse with them. She knew he would stay at uncle Gabriel’s house, and the thought comforted her, but she wished she could have a moment to speak with him. She was curious, but also afraid of what he might have to say about her confession. 

Had she been impulsive? Definitely. She had harbored these feelings for so long, deep in her heart, but she had never given them a proper name. Or probably just ignored them, thinking that they would just hurt her if she acknowledged them. But they were there, and couldn’t look away anymore. She wondered if things would change, once they returned to the Cornwall Institute.

“What are you thinking? Can’t you believe you’re home?” Cordelia asked, and grabbed Lucie’s hand. 

Lucie had been staring at the hearth. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening,” she apologized, and sighed. Bridget had brought them cookies when they arrived, and she took one from the plate. 

“You must be shook,” Cordelia said. “She might have killed you.”

“She wanted to kill her son,” her voice shook, and her shoulders sagged. “She tried to poison him.”

Cordelia gasped, and put a comforting hand behind Lucie’s back. “Now he is safe, though. Wait, Lucie,” she peered at her. “Do you love him?”

“Is it evident?” she wondered, and covered her face with her hands. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Cordelia continued. “I also love James.”

Lucie frowned for a second, but then she smiled at her friend. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, and grabbed Cordelia by the shoulders. “I knew you loved him.”

There was an unspoken, I wish you would have told me, between the two, but no one said anything. The most important thing was that the truth was out. 

 …

The following morning, Lucie woke up disoriented. Then she remembered, with a bitter laugh, that she was in her room at the Institute, and in her bed. She better enjoyed it while it lasted, she thought, and got ready to go downstairs to eat breakfast. She found everyone but her parents in the kitchen. Cordelia stood from her chair and came to hug her. James, who was talking to Matthew, waved at her. The former also winked at Lucie, and gave her a tight hug. 

“How are you doing, Lucie?”

“How are you doing, Matthew?” she cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. 

“He’s okay, he’s okay,” James interjected, grabbing him by the shoulders. 

“I know how to talk, thank you very much,” Matthew said, sitting down in front of Cordelia. “Let’s talk later if we have time, shall we?”

“Whenever you want,” Lucie responded, and gave him a bitter laugh, wondering if that moment would ever come. She didn’t know how much time she had left before they would ask her to go back to Cornwall.

Bridget had prepared bread and butter pudding, which was Lucie’s favorite, and she enjoyed it to the very last bite while talking to her closest friends. James told her that Christopher and Thomas would get there in a few hours with Anna, whom she hadn’t seen in two months. No one said anything about Jesse. It was as if he didn’t exist, or if they didn’t mention him because he wasn’t part of their group.

Everyone was gathered in the drawing room, when her parents finally arrived. Yes, because her father had been screaming Lucie’s name so loud that it was impossible not to know they were back. Each one of the people present stopped whatever they were doing and looked at each other, frowning. They all knew Will’s antics, so it’s not like they were surprised.

“Uncle Will must be cheerful that Lucie is back,” Christopher said, and they all laughed, until Will stumbled in the room. His cheeks were red, as if he had raced there.

Lucie came near her father, concerned. “Papa, what’s wrong?” there was fear in her tone. Let’s hope he doesn’t say I have to go back.  Let’s hope he doesn’t say-

“Lucie, my dear!” Will beamed, and hugged his daughter. “They let you go!”

“Who let me go?” she questioned.

“Come on, I mean the Clave!” Will replied, glancing in Lucie’s eyes. “They decided that since you didn’t use the Black Volume after all, but just stole it, and caught the person who indeed used it in the past, they wanted to grace you with freedom. Of course, not just you. Tatiana’s boy has no blame either. On the other hand, he’s one of her victims.”

Tears welled up in Lucie’s eyes, and she couldn’t do anything but cry of joy on her father’s chest.

…

The following two weeks, they received news about Tatiana Blackthorn. She was put before the Inquisitor, tried with the Mortal Sword, and taken to the Silent City to be locked for the rest of her life. She hadn’t wanted to go to the trial, but she was asked to go as a witness. Tatiana not only admitted that she tried to kill her own son. She also planned to kill Lucie and take him away with her somewhere, and she enlisted a warlock to do that. Tatiana had uttered a name, but it later turned out to be a vagabond who lived in the slums. The warlock or whoever helped the woman might have been powerful and aware of what they were doing, if they were able to run away just like this. Lucie wondered if they ever found this person, but at this point, she did not care.

She wanted to know how Jesse was doing. Where was he, what were his thoughts. If he was feeling alone. Lucie decided to be bold and ask her mother casually over tea, the day after Tatiana’s trial. She couldn’t go on not knowing, especially after confessing her love to him. She had let two weeks fly and waited for a sign, which did not come. Was this his way to kindly reject her? She thought it wasn’t something he would do. He was too honest to just move on with his life and ignore her. If he didn’t feel the same about her, he would tell her.

“He’s decided to live at uncle Gabriel’s until he finds another place, that’s what your aunt Cecily told me,” Tessa said, sipping her white tea. “They are happy because they never got to know him, and now they can. Gideon and Sophie decided to take a trip back from Idris just so they can also spend time with him. I’m sure he’s surrounded by people who love him.”

Lucie nodded. “Yes, I’m sure it’s true.”

Once the tea was over, Lucie decided to go back to her room. She was inspired to write, or better. She hoped that writing would help her not think about Jesse. She wondered when it would be okay for her to visit him at the Lightwoods, without seeming too suspicious. They all knew that Jesse had stayed two months with her in Cornwall, but no one knew the extent of their relationship. They didn’t know they had known each other before he was revived, and that she had already developed feelings for him back then. She didn’t know how to handle all of this.

Lucie caught someone coming out of her father’s office on her way back to her room. If it wasn’t for the straight black hair, she would have thought it was her brother. But it wasn’t James. It was Jesse. She was too far to hear what they were saying, but she believed they were having a friendly conversation because she heard her father’s jovial laugh. 

She advanced. She hadn't seen Jesse for a few weeks, and her spirits soared upon seeing him.  It sounded like a repeat of her first stay at the Cornwall Institute, but in a different place. 

Both men turned to her when they heard her heels on the carpet. Jesse smiled slightly, and so did Will. 

"Lulu, good morning," her father said. She widened her eyes at the mention of her nickname from him. Her cheeks warmed, and she glared at him. “Lucie, good morning,” he said again, and made an apologetic smile. 

"I didn't know you had guests," she said, trying not to look too obvious when she gazed up at Jesse. She frowned at him, trying to let him know that she would have loved to know about what he had been up to. It hurt. It felt like he had been avoiding her, but perhaps he had just been busy with his found family. “You could have called for me.”

"I was surprised too, my dear," Will replied, and Lucie bit her lip. Was she too obvious? "Mr. Blackthorn came to personally bring us the invite for an informal ball at his house." 

"A ball?" 

"It's not a ball per se, but a party to celebrate my return," Jesse grinned. "I have decided to restore Chiswick to its splendor, with my uncles and aunts help. There is still so much to do, but I decided to start from the ballroom, which was the room which required less effort to tidy up." 

“I… see, and I’m glad to participate,” Lucie murmured. Those news lifted her mood. Warmth filled her chest, and their eyes locked for a long time, until her father cleared his voice.

“Alright, I believe Mr. Blackthorn has to go,” Will announced, and Lucie snapped back to reality, glancing away from the weird duo before her. “We will be honored to join you for this special event, next Saturday. I can’t wait to see Chiswick’s ballroom again, you know why,” he continued. Jesse nodded a greeting at Lucie before her father put an arm behind his back to lead him away from her. 

She asked herself why Jesse would know the reason her father wanted to see his ballroom again, but it probably had to do his and her mother’s past. She shrugged.

…

Saturday couldn’t come any sooner, but Lucie knew that time was slower when one was eager to do something they wanted. Lucie’s mother Tessa had taken her daughter to Bond Street to buy her a new dress for the event. It wasn’t the first time they had shopped for dresses together, and Lucie was happy with the suggestion because she had already deemed all of her clothes unfit for the occasion. She wasn’t vain, but she thought she needed a fresh start, and her mother agreed, so they spent more than they would normally do. This night would also celebrate the end of Lucie’s exile, and she wanted to look good.

And she thought she did. She chose an embellished satin blue dress with short sleeves, which complemented her eyes, and put her hair up. She reached Chiswick with her family, but once the carriage stopped, she ran off. No one said anything, since it wasn’t rare for Lucie to go inside and go find her friends. She caught sight of Cordelia, and she waved at her, but before she could reach her, Lucie muttered that she had to do something first. 

She had thought a lot during the last few days, and resolved that she needed to act. It was nor or never. She couldn’t wait for Jesse anymore to make the first step. If he would ever move, that is. She found him by the table filled with cocktails and food, speaking to a few people she couldn’t recognize. His eyes found Lucie’s in an instant, and he excused himself and went to her. She thought he looked amazing in his black and white evening suit.

“You came,” he said softly. “You’re late.”

Lucie rolled her eyes. She knew he was joking. “The people who count always come late,” she told him, smirking, and raised an eyebrow at him. 

He grinned. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter to talk,” he suggested, and Lucie followed him outside of the ballroom, which was in a separate wing of the building. 

There were a lot of people, she saw, all over the property. He must have invited the whole Clave. She was too distracted looking around that she shivered when he secured her hand in his and smiled warmly at her. 

They were walking on a path in between the grass, and Lucie realized that she had already been there in the past. Her suspicions were confirmed when they stopped in front of the greenhouse doors. He opened one for her, and she entered, ready to face the disruption she had seen the last time she had been there, but she was astonished when she saw the place looked entirely different from the way she remembered it. Most of the plants had been either cut or substituted by new ones, and fresh, colorful flowers grew at the sides of the greenhouse. Now it was bright and clean like she had never seen it before. A witchlight here and there lighted the ambient and made it look like some place out of a fairytale.

“Do you like it, Lucie?”

“It’s wonderful,” she commented, seeing how many types of plants were actually there. “How did you do this?”

“I called several gardeners, and-” he interrupted himself, because she was rolling her eyes at him. “Okay, I’ll stop humoring you, Lucie. I was saying-”

“Why didn’t you come to see me after we got back?” she interjected. She understood that he wanted to tell her about the greenhouse and how he had restored it, but she needed to talk about important matters first. “I thought you would come,” she murmured, trying not to seem too hurt. “I believed you would talk to me.”

“I also asked myself the same thing,” he admitted, and she thought he was honest. “I needed time, Lucie. Time to think. I thought about what I wanted to do with my future, now that my mother has been taken away. If I could live as a shadowhunter, or I would rather live as a mundane. Do you know that my father left me a hefty inheritance? I could sit down all day and do nothing for the rest of my life, and I would still have money to survive,” he chuckled.

“Exercise is important,” Lucie said, and they both laughed. 

“Yes, and not only that,” Jesse’s face turned serious. “It didn’t take me long to resolve what I wanted to do. The first thing I decided to dedicate myself to, was remodeling this house. I talked about it with my uncles, and they all agreed to help me with this. They are all incredibly nice and sweet, and I’m angry at my mother for lying about them. She said they were evil, and I even believed her. But now I know better,” he glanced at a cactus for a moment, and sighed. “Can you believe they said that they want me to keep Chiswick?”

“I do believe you, Jesse,” she nodded. She was aware of her uncles and aunts’ generosity. 

“The second thing I resolved to do, was trying to understand if I could be a shadowhunter. You know that my mother also forbade me to live this life, literally, and I told myself: you should do it if you want to do it. I still don’t know much about it, but I am a good learner.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed again, and he smiled at her. 

“And if you’d help me, and you’d teach me, I’m sure I’ll get better in no time,” he said, and got closer to her.

“Of course I will help you. Of course.”

“Be with me, Lucie,” he took her hands in his. “Marry me.”

Lucie’s jaw dropped, and her skin flushed. Her heart would leap out of her chest if it could, she was sure. “But… don’t you believe it’s too early for this? I’ve just turned seventeen, we’re both seventeen, and…”

“We can wait until you are ready to make this step, but I can’t wait for you to give me an answer. I’ve lost seven years of my life already. I don’t want to lose more time and lose more occasions. I want to finally live my life,” he said with hope. 

It was an honest request.

“With me?”

“Why does it sound too weird to you, Lucie? I think my life gained color when I first met you. After then, it was a crescendo of hues. You let me live even when I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to tie your life to mine, knowing that I was dead. I wouldn’t want to subject you to the fate of loving someone who couldn’t be the person you deserved by your side, because I was half-alive. I would have never confessed my feelings for you, had I stayed a ghost.”

“Do you… love me?” her voice shook, and tears started to well in her eyes. 

“Again, I wonder why does it sound impossible to you that I love you, Lucie?” Jesse asked, caressing her cheek tenderly. “I think I fell for you before I gave your brother my last breath. I thought I loved you because you were the only other person who could see me, but I was wrong. I waited for the night to fall so I could be with you. I missed you. I never developed any affection for anyone before you, and I realized it’s because you are special. And the Jesse Blackthorn who spent two months with you before I regained my memories knew it too.”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remembered what happened after you brought me to life. I remember that I doubted you, but then asked for your help and you hid me while we figured how to get my memories back. I remember the first rune you drew on my arm when we entered this very house to bring the Black Volume back, and your shock when you saw me at the Cornwall Institute. I also remember our first kiss, and the way I fainted,” he laughed. “I already remembered after Magnus Bane finished performing that spell on me. I couldn’t place those frames at first, but then they clicked. Everything fell into place. And I… had to do something about it.”

“You organized a ball,” Lucie commented with a grin. 

“I wanted to celebrate my life… Selfish, isn’t it?”

“Nah, you deserve it, Jesse Blackthorn. You’re the least self-centered person I know, although you are arrogant at times,” she shrugged, and he frowned. “And I love you. I want to be with you as long as life allows us to be together.”

He beamed, and smiled widely. “Can I kiss you, Lucie?”

“You can kiss me anytime you want,” she replied. “And this, of course, goes both ways,” Lucie said, and she rose on the balls of her feet to kiss him before he would do it.

He gave her his family ring next, and slid it on her fourth finger. They agreed on telling the news to everyone that night, and Jesse confessed that her parents already knew. 

“That’s why I came to the Institute personally the other day,” Jesse told her as they returned back to the party. “I asked your father the permission to marry you.”

“And what did he say?” she asked, curious.

“He said that it was up to you. It wasn’t up to him to give me his permission. You were the only one who could accept or refuse my proposal. He added that if you said yes, he would know that I was worthy of you, because you would never choose somebody who didn’t deserve you.”

Lucie laughed. “Come on, let’s hurry. I think he is eager to find out what i said.”

...

EPILOGUE 6 Years Later

London, Spring 1910

 “And then, the princess exclaimed: I came to destroy you! You dared to make the prince fall into a deep sleep, and I’ll never forgive you for this!” Lucie exclaimed giddily, as she dressed her son in the green pants and white shirt she had chosen for the event they were throwing that night. Lucie believed the baby needed to shine as much as his parents, since this party was also for him. “No, you won’t crush me! You’re just a little girl!” she continued, and the baby laughed as she put on his socks and shoes. “I’m not a little girl!” she said in a different one of voice, pretending she was fifteen years younger than she was now.

“Is prince Theodore ready, my lady?” Jesse asked from the doorway, as Lucie finished the last touch on their son’s outfit, a cute dark green bow tie.

Theodore was a healthy two year old baby with Lucie’s brown hair and blue-green eyes. Not quite like the color of either of his parents, but more of a mix between the two. Perhaps it would turn into the Blackthorn-Herondale trademark color. Who knew.

“He is now,” she replied, and she turned her face to let her husband of four years kiss her on the lips. “And so am I, thanks for asking.”

“I helped you close the zip of your dress because it got stuck, earlier,” he winked, and grabbed his jacket from the chair, then picked baby Theodore from the changing table, and kissed his cheek. The baby giggled excitedly.

Lucie checked herself in the mirror one last time, then they went down at the top of the stairs outside to wait for their guests, as they usually did on such occasions. It was their fourth wedding anniversary, and they had made it a tradition to throw a party at Blackthorn Hall every year. Blackthorn Hall used to be Chiswick House. They thought it deserved a name change after they had restored the place, to symbolize its renovation and brand new life. 

They saw a few carriages approach, and Lucie smiled to herself. The party was about to begin.

“The zip of my dress didn’t get stuck,” she said out of the blue, continuing the conversation they were having inside. “I just gained weight on my stomach,” she glanced at him with a smirk.

Jesse frowned at first. “It’s okay Lu-” he said, then realized what she meant, and his eyes widened, filled with surprise but also joy. “Are you with child?” 

Lucie smiled lovingly at her husband. “Happy Fourth Anniversary, my love,” she told him, and he gave her another kiss.

“I wanted to wait later to give this to you, but since we’re here,” he said, and took a white envelope from his pocket and gave it to her. “It came in the mail this morning. It looks thick.”

She glanced at her husband with expectations and hope. “Let’s open it,” she muttered, and started reading as fast as she could. She was trying to finish before the carriages would get too close to the house. “By the angel, by the angel!”

“What does it say?”

“Mrs. Lucie Blackthorn, we are happy to inform you that we found your manuscript interesting and creative, and we look forward to working with you. We would love to publish your work as soon as possible. Please come to our office as soon as you can, to sign the contract. Sincerely, Parks of London Publishing House,” she said, and she started jumping on the spot. “They will publish my book!”

“Careful, careful, though,” he advised, putting an arm on her shoulder and kissing her head. “I’m so happy for you, my beloved. Happy anniversary.”

And they all lived happily ever after.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucretia @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca 

[shadowhuntertrash]

High Notes

Chapter Two

Characters belong to Cassandra Clare

It had been two days since the girls had told them about the tour and Thomas was freaking out. How was he supposed to one, go out in front of all those people every night, two, see Alastair practically every day for five months? Thomas had barely packed anything, he was currently standing in his room staring at his suitcase which so far held a pair of sweatpants and his “Move, I’m gay.” t-shirt his friends had gotten him when he came out.

   He hadn’t come out to anyone other than Matthew, James, Cordelia, Lucie, Christopher, and his sister Barbara. It wasn’t that he was scared to tell the rest of his family because they were very accepting of Matthew and James, but this voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that if he told his family they wouldn’t like it because it was their son.

   Their only son. The only person in his family who could carry on the name. Well there was always Christopher and Anna but no one in his immediate family besides himself. Thomas also had quite the fanbase and did not want to find out what their opinion was. He was scared they would turn on him which had happened to others before.

   So when he told his friends they kept his secret. They respected his reasons for not telling anyone but it didn’t keep them from telling him he was an idiot for not believing them when they said his family wouldn’t care. 

   Thomas snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Matthew leaning against the door to Thomas’ room. Christopher and James were out with their families spending time with them before they left for the tour.  

   “Thomas, sweetheart, love, dear friend of mine, please stop stressing. You’re stressing over Alastair more than I ever did over Jamie and that’s really saying something.” Thomas feels a familiar heat rise up to his face. He was blushing like a grade school girl. Was he really that obvious?

   “No one can ever beat you in gay pining Matthew Fairchild.” Is what Thomas chose to say. Matthew threw his head back and laughed. “That may be but you sure are putting up a fight. I’m serious though Tom, the more you stress about it the worse it’ll be.” Matthew said flashing him a serious look. It looked out of place on Matthew’s face. It was a rare sight.

   Thomas smiled slightly at him. Matthew had never liked Alastair much, something about childhood enemies, so it meant a lot that Matthew was being so chill about Thomas liking Alastair. “Thank you, Matthew. I’m serious thank you.” Thomas says in a small voice smiling at Matthew crookedly. 

   Matthew rolls his eyes and smirks. “It would make me a bit of a hypocritical asshole to have judged you for that. I’ve done far worse things than loving Alastair Carstairs.” It hit Thomas then, just how much Matthew saw through him. As if he was see-through. That’s what always made them so close. They were such total opposites that it was almost unbelievable just how they read each other so well.

   Thomas smiled sincerely at Matthew and Matthew swatted his arm. “Okay, enough seriousness I can only endure small doses at a time.” Thomas laughed and shook his head at his friend. Matthew laughed back. “Do you want some help packing? I’ve already finished.” 

   Thomas smiled, that was such a Matthew thing. It was a common misconception that Matthew was a procrastinator. He was actually the opposite, he was one of those ungodly people who do things as soon as they are asked to.

   “Of course you have, Matthew.” Thomas said exasperated. “If you could, I would greatly appreciate it. I always forget something important.” Matthew gave him a knowing look. “Don’t worry Tom. I won’t let you forget anything important.” Thomas nods and they spend the next three hours packing. With a brief intermission where they had a pillow fight after Thomas accidentally hit Matthew with his pillow. 

   At least he wasn’t as freaked out as he was before. 

____________________________________________________________________________

   Thomas, four days later, was standing in his parent's living room laughing with a glass of wine in his hand. His mother was sitting on the sofa next to his father. 

   His father, Gideon, was a successful politician like his father had been before he went corrupt. Unlike Thomas’ grandfather, Gideon was well-loved among the people. Thomas’s father and mother, Sophie, had one of those sickeningly sweet love stories that the people loved. 

   His father had gotten a maid when he was sixteen (spoiler, it was his Sophie). Gideon had been in love with her “from the moment he met her” and had done everything he could to see her. Including asking her to do just about anything and everything for him which his foolish teenage brain had thought was a brilliant idea. 

   It wasn’t and Sophie had grown up despising him until one day they fought over scones, Thomas had always found that part hilarious. Once Gideon had had a chance to explain why there was a pile of scones under his bed Sophie had allowed him to take her on a date. And the rest was, well, history.

   Thomas had always loved that story. He had grown up wanting one just like it, his two sisters were in the same boat. His oldest sister Barbara had found that in her current boyfriend Oliver. They had that cute barista, coffee addiction story. Oliver had to write his number on Barbara’s cut four times before she finally called him. They had been sickeningly lovey-dovey ever since. Thomas’s other sister Eugenia hadn’t found that yet and so they whispered about how disgusting Barbara and Oliver were when they came to family dinners.

   They were all sitting in the living room. Barbara was sitting in one of the lounge chairs next to Eugenia's chair.  Thomas was sitting on the floor with his back against Barbara’s legs. “It was hilarious I have never seen him so red!” Barbara exclaimed in hysterics, over some story about Oliver spilling coffee all over some scary-looking man covered in tattoos.

   "What a Prince Charming." Thomas said tilting his head back so he could look up at his sister. Barbara smacked his face lightly and laughed. "Isn't he!" They all laugh again. Thomas looks back to his parents to see them both looking at him, sweet smiles on their faces. Thomas smiles back immediately. 

   "Tommy we're so proud of you." Sophie says in a soft voice. Thomas beams at her, it was no secret he was 100% a momma's boy. “Your music, your lyrics are who you are. We have always encouraged you to be your true self and you always are.” His father said affectionately. Thomas feels a ball of guilt tightens in his stomach. 

   It was true they did always tell him to be himself. He wished he could be. He really really did, but alas it wasn’t the time. He couldn’t really tell them and then take off for five months. So he holds it in and flashes them a carefree smile.

   “Thank you. I hope you know you’re all my inspiration. I wouldn’t be where I am without you.” I say looking around at all of them making a point to look at my sisters as well. Barbara smiles kindly at him. “As lovely as it is to hear your brother tell you you’re the inspiration to all his love songs, I do hope we’re not your only inspiration.” 

   I shove her and laugh. “Barb! Stop! Not at all what I meant! Way to ruin a moment!” Barbara and Eugenia laugh and Gideon and Sophie roll their eyes fondly. “Okay! Okay! Sorry but Genie and I were wondering who you write all those love songs about!” Barbara says wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. I freeze and force a laugh out looking down at my hands. I clear my throat but no words come out.

   “I think that’s quite enough girls.” Sophie said in her simultaneously kind and stern voice. The girls stop laughing and pout. “But-”

   “You’re mother’s quite right, girls. I think we should leave poor Thomas alone.” Gideon says backing Sophie up as he always did. Thomas felt a rush of affection for his parents, so loving, so kind. So unlike some of his other friends' parents. He feels a pang of sadness go through him as he thinks of Matthew with his nice but absentee parents and Cordelia and Alastair whose father abandoned them and whose mother died.

   “I love you all. I’m going to miss you quite a deal more than I thought I would.” His sisters each squeeze one of his hands. “Oh darling, you say that as if we aren’t going to call every night!” Sophie says with a sparkle in her eyes. Thomas groans acting annoyed but his smile is a dead giveaway. 

   Gideon stands up and walks over to Thomas. “Thank you for coming and saying goodbye. We will miss you sorely, I wish I could stay longer but I have a pressing meeting I attend to.” Thomas smiles and stands up feeling his father’s arms around him. He holds on tightly. His father wasn’t the most affectionate person so it was nice when this happens. 

   He squeezes one more time before Gideon lets him go. “It’s quite alright Pops. I’m glad I get the chance to see you all one more time before I head off. I would stop by tomorrow but we are heading out at five and I’m afraid I won’t get the chance.” Sophie smiled kindly walking over to him to hug him goodbye. 

  “That’s quite alright Tommy, but don’t you dare forget to call when you leave and arrive no matter the time.” Thomas nods leaning down to rest his chin on his mother’s head. Thomas was quite tall and affectionately called ‘Giant’ by his sisters quite frequently so his mother and her petite figure didn’t even come up to his chin. 

   Thomas pulls back and kisses his mother’s cheek. “I wouldn’t dream of it mum.” Sophie nods her approval and moves to let Eugenia hug him. “I hope you have fun, Tommy, but not too much.” she says, pulling away enough for him to see her wink before pulling him back in and whispering, “But remember protection, we don’t want any little feet running around just yet.” 

   Thomas pulls away abruptly sputtering. Eugenia laughed and pats his shoulder. “Genie!” He says betrayed. She laughs again before moving out of his way. “Now get out and go see the world brother!” Thomas shakes his head and waves to his mother, father, and sister once more before walking to the door with Barbara.

   They stepped outside the door and Barbara closed it softly before turning to Thomas, it was then that Thomas noticed the tears in her eyes. He frowns and shakes his head. “Don’t you dare start crying Barb, you know it makes me cry.” Barbara let out a wet laugh before pulling him in close for a hug. He melts into it.

   Out of all his family, he was closest to Barbara, mostly because he didn’t have to hide anything from her. “I do suggest you keep me updated with Alastair. I mean it. Every detail. If he sneezes I want to know. She says tears started to slide down her face. Thomas feels the back of his throat and his nose starts to burn.

   He clings to Barbara tighter. “Stop it. I’m crying now stop it!” He says pathetically, starting to shake slightly. Barbara hugs him tightly once more before pulling away and hastily wiping the tears off her face. “Sorry sorry don’t cry it’ll make me worse and it’ll be an endless cycle.” Thomas laughed and nodded, drying his own eyes.

   Barbara smiled at Thomas through her wet eyes, she placed a hand on each of his shoulders. “I love you Tommy don’t forget that.” She pulled away and smiled wider. She reached up to her neck and unclasped her necklace. It was just a chain and Thomas wondered what it was for before she handed it to him and took her ring off her finger. It had footprints around the band. It was very pretty Thomas had to admit.

   Barbara handed it to him and flipped it so he could see the writing on the inside. He frowned and took it from her so he could hold it closer and read it. He felt tears building in his eyes as he read it. ‘Where we go, we go as one.’ It was something Barbara had been saying to him since he was five. Thomas felt the tears slide down his face and grabbed Barbara in a bone-crushing hug. 

   She laughed but Thomas could hear the tears in her voice. “Thank you.” He whispered through the tears. Barbara sighed and patted his back before whispering a quiet, “Always.” and pulling away. 

   She shoved him away without bothering to wipe her tears. “Okay now go you big loof.” Thomas smiled and kissed her cheek before turning and walking back to his car. He missed them already.

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #67. Alastair and Cordelia meet their little sibling.

(This was written way back in March before I finished Chain of Gold, so there may be some minor inconsistencies with the plot.) 

CW/TW: Alcoholism. 

It is a cool October day in 1903, when Cordelia and Alastair Carstairs get to meet their baby sister for the first time.

It has only been 3 months since Cordelia found out her mother was expecting, and ever since she has been eagerly awaiting the arrival of her little brother or sister. Alastair has also been excited, but he has not shown it in the same way as Cordelia. Cordelia and Alastair’s friends are all eager to meet the newest little Carstairs too, especially Lucie who has always wanted a little brother or sister, and now will not stop pestering Tessa and Will to have a baby.

Elias stood trial a few weeks ago, but before he did Cordelia explained to Charlotte- The Consul- about his alcoholism and how he needs medical attention and help more than a prison cell. Thankfully Charlotte was extremely understanding, seeing as her Matthew is clearly an alcoholic too and she would never want to see him put in prison instead of being given the help he clearly needs. Now Elias is still in Idris, in the Basilas, receiving the right treatment. He has written a few letters to Sona and the children, and will hopefully be able to come visit the new baby soon.

Sona had gone into labor late last night and while Cordelia stayed with her mother, Alastair rushed to the London Institute to have them summon The Silent Brothers.

Cordelia had been delighted when Jem arrived along with a Clave midwife, she knew Jem would take good care of her mama and little brother or sister.

Now it has been approximately 8 hours since Sona went into labor, and Cordelia and Alastair are both waiting in the living room, trying their best to stay awake. Alastair is reading a mundane newspaper and Cordelia is attempting to stay awake while reading Layla and Majnun, though she is not having much luck and keeps dozing off.

After dozing off for about the 8th time, Cordelia is jerked awake by a familiar voice speaking in her mind.

Cordelia, Alastair.

Cordelia and Alastair both look up to see the robed figure of Jem, standing in the doorway to the living room.

“Jem?” Cordelia asks, pushing herself up in the armchair.

Yes Cordelia, would you two like to come meet your little sister?

“Sister? It’s a girl?” Cordelia asks in a breathy tone. She would have been happy no matter what, she would have been thrilled to have another brother, but secretly the idea of not being the only girl anymore is quite nice.

Yes, a very healthy little girl. She and your mother are doing very well, and I believe they are both eager to see you. Would you like to come meet her? Jem asks.

Both teenagers leap from their seats and eagerly follow Jem upstairs and down the hall to their mother’s room. When they reach the door to Sona’s room, Jem tells them

I will wait out here to allow you four some privacy, I will be right here if you need me.

Cordelia and Alastair nod, before Alastair softly knocks on the door before opening it and walking in with Cordelia right behind him.

Straight away they see their mother sitting up in bed in a pale pink nightgown and matching dressing gown, her roosari sitting perfectly as always. In Sona’s arms is a little bundle of pink and white blankets, and Sona is gazing lovingly down at the bundle, though she looks up when she hears the door open, and smiles lovingly at her eldest two children.

“Hello my loves, come meet your sister.” Sona softly says, beckoning them over. Cordelia and Alastair make their way over to their mother’s bed, both of them sinking into chairs that have been placed on either side of the bed. Cordelia eagerly leans forward to look at her baby sister.

The baby has brown skin, the same shade as Cordelia and Alastair, she is almost completely bald expect for a few tufts of dark black hair, the same shade Alastair’s is naturally, when he does not dye it, and big black eyes just like Cordelia’s. Immediately Cordelia falls completely and hopelessly in love with her sister, feeling a huge rush of love and a fierce desire to protect her at all costs. She can now understand why Alastair is so protective of her, why Jamie is so protective of Lucie, why Eugenia is so protective of Thomas and why Anna is so fiercely protective of Christopher and Alexander.

“Oh mama, she is so perfect.” Cordelia says in a tight tone, as she feels the tears well up in her eyes.

“Layla, are you crying?” Alastair asks in a tone of disbelief. Why would Cordelia be crying at such a happy moment?

“I-I... y-yes b-but I-I don’t u-understand why, I-I’m so h-happy!” Cordelia hiccups as she tries to control her tears, it makes no sense for her to be sobbing her eyes out at one of the happiest moments of her life.

“Oh khoshgelam, sometimes you can be so overwhelmed by happiness that you cry, it’s alright Layla, would you like to hold your sister?” Sona softly asks, brushing away Cordelia’s tears. Cordelia sniffles and nods eagerly. Sona helps her position her arms before carefully lowering the baby into them.

“Oh, hello baby, my sweet baby sister. I love you.” Cordelia says in a soft, teary tone, bending to press a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

“Have you decided on a name for her mama?” Alastair asks.

“Yes I have, her name is Daria Esta Carstairs.” Sona gently says, brushing her finger’s over the baby’s few tufts of dark hair.

“Oh that is so beautiful! It suits her.” Cordelia exclaims, gazing down at her sister, never wanting to let her go. “I love you Daria.”

“How do you feel mama, is there anything I can do for you or get you?” Alastair asks. Unknown to all but his family, Alastair is a complete mama’s boy and always has been, as a little boy he always clung to his mother’s skirts and followed her around, while Cordelia has always been more of a daddy’s girl, wanting her father to tell her stories about Cortana and the time he slayed Yanluo. The two siblings have remained much the same, Cordelia is still a complete daddy’s girl and Alastair is still a complete mama’s boy.

“No  Aziz-e delam, I am fine thank you.” Sona says, placing a hand on Alastair’s cheek and smiling at him.

“Are you sure?” Alastair asks, eager to be of some help to his mother. He hated being completely useless and unable to help while she was in labor, now he wants to do whatever he can to help her.

“I am sure Alastair Joon, thank you, you need not worry about me, I have done this three times now, I shall be fine.” Sona assures her son ,squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“Alright mama. Cordelia, let me hold the baby now!” Alastair says, turning his gaze on Cordelia, who is still cooing and fussing over little Daria.

“Well I would have had you asked nicely, now I will not. One thing you need to learn sweet Daria, is that Alastair is very, very annoying, I am afraid we just have to put up with him, I have asked many times if we can trade him for a puppy but alas, mama and papa seem instant to keep him, Angel knows why.” Cordelia quietly says, slowly rocking her sister back and forth, as Alastair glares at her.

“Cordelia, let your brother hold Daria, honestly I do not know how I am going to cope with three of you.” Sona says. Begrudgingly Cordelia passes Daria to Alastair, who holds her with an air of expertise and comfort.

“Poor little thing looks just like Cordelia.” He says, adjusting the blankets around the baby’s face, smug in the knowledge that Cordelia cannot hit him or throw something at him while he is holding the baby, he can tease her relentlessly for the next few years and be completely safe, as long as he is holding the baby.

“Mama, are you sure we cannot trade Alastair for a dog?” Cordelia asks, looking at her mother, who smiles back and brushes Cordelia’s hair back from her face.

“Quiet sure Azizakam, quiet sure.”

About 40 minutes later, little Daria wakes up crying and fussing, clearly in need of feeding, so Cordelia and Alastair decide to wish their mother and sister a goodnight, and finally head to bed, after a very long day.

A week later, with permission from Sona and to the delight of Cordelia, Tessa, Will, Jamie and Lucie call around to meet little Daria.

Currently they are all gathered in the drawing room in Cirenworth, fussing over the baby. The only ones who are not there are Elias (who is still in Idris) and Alastair who left for London this morning, to go see Charles and help he and Grace with wedding arrangements.

Currently Lucie is holding little Daria and seems happier than she has ever been, no one doubts that she would sneak her home if she could get away with it.

“Oh she is just so adorable!” Lucie exclaims, as Daria wraps her tiny hand around Lucie’s finger. “Oh mama, papa, are you sure you don’t want another baby?” Lucie adds in a pleading tone, looking at her parents with begging blue eyes full of hope.

“Quiet sure Lucie, after my pregnancy with you I am quiet done, you never let me sleep a wink for about 5 months, and I was sick through the whole pregnancy, then you decided to be late, so late that I had to be induced, no my love I am quiet done with pregnancy.” Tessa laughs, though it is easy to laugh at now, her pregnancy with Lucie was a total nightmare, after she was born, Tessa and Will agreed that they did not want to risk Tessa’s health in such a way again, and would not have anymore children.

“Oh but you could adopt! Papa you always said you wanted a big family because you and mama came from such small families.” Lucie points out.

“Lucie my dear, adoption is not as simple as you seem to think, we could try to adopt but there is no guarantee we would end up with a baby, and we are quiet content with you and your brother, and having a big family is not only limited to having many children, I have you two, your mother, your aunt Cecily, Anna, Kit and Alexander, and angel forgive me, I even have your Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Gideon, as well as your Aunt Sophie, and Thomas and Eugenia, and of course there is your Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Henry, and Matthew and Charles, and now Cordelia and Alastair too.” Will gently explains. He understands Lucie’s desire for a little sibling, but he and Tessa have their hands full with her and Jamie, and all their nieces and nephews, who they love as their own.

Lucie sighs and looks back down at baby Daria.

“I know papa, I would just love to have a little brother or sister.” Lucie says in a longing tone.

“Oh Lulu, you would not be saying that if you did have a little brother or sister, trust me, I have your Aunt Cecily and she drives me absolutely mad at the best of times.” Will says, putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulders and kissing her temple. Lucie is such a sweet and happy girl, and has Will wrapped around her little finger, and has done since the moment she was born. It kills him not to be able to give her anything and everything she wants, but having another baby would be too unfair and harsh on Tessa, and as much as Will loves his daughter, he adores his wife too and would never want to do anything to compromise her.

Little does anyone know, that over 200 years later, Lucie finally gets her wish for a little brother or sister, when in March of 2013, Tessa gives birth to her and Jem’s first daughter, little Wilhelmina Yiqiang Ke Carstairs.

Lucie’s spirit often visits her little sister, keeping her company when she wakes up from her naps so Jem and her mother can rest some more, telling her stories about the adventures she and Jamie, Matthew, Thomas, Christopher and Cordelia went on when they were teenagers. Lucie adores her baby sister just as much as Cordelia and Alistair adored little baby Evie.

One night, as Lucie stands in Mina’s nursery, watching her sleep peacefully, she feels someone next to her, and looks over to see her father, watching Mina with the same love he always watched Lucie and James with. Will puts an arm around his daughter and holds her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“So what do you think Lulu? Is being a big sister everything you thought it would be?” He softly asks. Lucie nods.

“Yes, and more. I love Mina so much it hurts, and I would do absolutely anything for her.”

“Just as Jamie would for you and I would for you Aunt Cecily, you are officially a member of the big sibling club, like you always wanted. Come on, let's leave this little one to sleep.” Will softly says. Lucie nods, but before leaving, she walks over to the crib, and using all her power she manages to reach down and brush a hand over Mina’s thick dark hair, and press a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll see you soon sweet baby sister, I love you.”

She then turns and follows her father, rejoining the rest of their family and loved ones in the afterlife, watching over and protecting Tessa, Jem, Mina and Kit.

[ashes-and-ashes]

Confession time... I live for people treating Remus like shit because of his lycanthropy, and Sirius (and the others) being really protective and losing their temper when they see it. So if you were to write that, know that it would end me, but I'd die happy 💙

Whoops. I got carried away. Hope you like this Rosie (and I hope it is angsty enough!!)

tw for alcohol, implied self harm and depression

~

Bar fights

Sirius stares down into his glass.

He scowls. It was called the Dragon, supposedly the “fiercest drink in all of Wizarding Britain” and he can already tell that it wouldn’t be strong enough. Firewhisky and gillywater and something that made it turn bright blue, all mixed into a glass. It steamed slightly, bubbles floating to the surface and the barkeeper smirks over at him.

“A little young to be drinking eh?” He laughs. “You sure you can finish that?”

Sirius just raises an eyebrow, downing the drink in one shot. “Not strong enough,” he mutters, rapping his knuckles on the bar.

The barkeeper blinks at him, then turns away. Sirius sighs.

He supposed it wasn’t fair. He’s a Black. Judging by the amount Walburga drank, he’d been ingesting alcohol in the womb.

Sirius scrubs his hand over his face, staring down at the bar. It’s stained, from the rings of some drink long dried, and he picks at the marks with his fingernail.

He had sworn to himself, a few years ago when he was 12 that he would never drink again. Sworn it while huddled in his room, biting back his sobs as he tried to heal the gashes in his back and the waves of pain all over his body. Walburga was bad enough sober - the cuts on Sirius’ arms and legs were proof of that. But she only ever used Crucio when she was drunk.

He snatches the glass from the barkeeper, downs it again. He had only really started drinking a month ago, to keep away the nightmares and the thoughts and the images. Sobriety was hell. Better to wash it away in the haze of drink then linger on what his life had become.

The Prank. Even thinking the words made him shudder. He had replayed that night in his head, over and over again, turning over every second until the memories were seared into his brain.

If only I hadn't read the letter. If only I was strong enough to resist the torture. If only I was faster, smarter, quicker. If only I hadn’t been so stupid.

He slumps in his chair. It was over now. Him and Remus were done. He still couldn’t help but feel that it was punishment, punishment for running away, punishment for leaving Reg with his parents.

And it was Remus’ birthday today, his 16th. Sirius’ heart aches as he imagines it. Everyone crowded around Remus, everyone singing Happy Birthday to him. He had spent ages planning the events for Remus’ birthday, the picnic and the candles and the secret spot by the lake.

He laughs bitterly. Everyone thought they’d be forever, him and Re. The Prank had torn them apart.

Good, he thinks, tightening his grip on the empty glass. He’s rid of me now. He’s free.

Sirius knew he could never be free of Remus. He loved him too much, a burning, aching pain inside of him, so much that it hurt. There would always be a part of him that loved Remus, no matter how many days passed, a part of him that could never be filled by anyone else.

How many moments did they have together? How many whispered secrets and shared kisses, how many times had they traced each other’s scars?

He’d thought they’d last forever.

Sirius hears the door bang open, the sound of laughter filling the bar. He turns on his stool, half-paying attention when he freezes.

Remus stares at him, surrounded by people. James and Lily chatting animatedly, Dorcas and Marlene with their arms around each other, Gideon next to Fabian who was holding Kingsley’s hand, Peter talking to Mary. His best friends, all of them, the ones who he’d die for and they all hated him.

Sirius curses under his breath, standing in a fluid motion. He turns, grabbing his cloak, hoping that Remus would ignore him, would look away.

He’s wrong. Halfway to the door, Remus steps in front of him. “What,” he hisses, “Are you doing here?”

Sirius drops his gaze. He’s heard that steel in Remus’ voice before, heard it used on Snape and the Slytherins, to his mother and his father and everyone else who crossed him. But he’s never had it directed at him before.

Sirius swallows, hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “I’m….I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming here - “

Around him, he can feel the life going out of the party, near-identical glares being turned in his direction. He looks down. “I’ll leave now.”

Part of him still hopes. Hopes that Remus will shake his head, ask him to stay. That he can celebrate the birthday of the boy he loved most, that he could pretend just for one night that everything was okay again.

But instead, Remus just nods. “I think you should.”

Sirius bites his lip, walking towards the door. He slips out then closes it behind him, managing to make it to the alley behind the bar.

He drops to the ground, perched on the balls of his feet, his head in his hands. The night is cool, the air crisp, and he takes a deep breath.

He can feel it, the numbness, the way he was slowly drowning in it. It was as if a sheet of plastic had been placed over the world, blurring everything together, muting out all sounds. He supposed he deserved it.

Sirius lets his head rest against the wall. His lungs burn, a blinding headache forcing its way into his head and he wishes he had a cigarette.

Sirius clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palm, carving bloody half-moons into his flesh.

He scared himself sometimes, when the numbness came down and his heart ached and all he wanted to do was bleed. Something stronger, deeper than just a blade against skin, when he wanted to fight.

There’s a flurry of movement to his left, two guys walking into the alley. They’re sketchy looking, dirty and high, and Sirius ignores them. Behind him, a window opens, and he can hear laughed pouring into the alley.

He recognizes the laughs - Kingsley’s low rumble and Lily’s high-pitched giggle, James’ snort and Peter’s squeak and Marlene howling as someone banged the table. And Remus, the huff of breath as he smiled, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. He would recognize Remus’ laugh anywhere, would recognize him even if he was blind.

The two guys on his left are mumbling, and Sirius barely makes out a few words.

“Piece of shit…”

“Just mug him then…”

“Nah don’t want to get busted….”

He ignores the words, yanking on his hair with his hands, so hard his eyes begin to water. His feet ache from crouching, his neck stiff and he winces as he he forces himself to his feet. He turns, snarling as he starts to exit the alley.

“Asshole. Won’t pay up.”

“At least he’s not a queer.”

There’s a low laugh. “Well. Or a werewolf.”

The other person snorts. “Werewolves. Filthy half breeds, ought to be put down the load of them. Always biting people and rutting around everywhere.”

“As if they’re good for anything else.”

The anger rises in Sirius, so fast he almost falls over. He turns around, clenching his fists together. “Don’t talk about werewolves like that.”

The two men pause, then look up at Sirius. The first one smiles. “What the hell you doing kid?”

The other one laughs. “Trying to be tough. Spoiling for a fight.”

“Fucktard.” The two of them snort. “Go away kid. Won’t ask again.”

Sirius doesn’t. He carefully widens his stance, one foot in front of the other. “I said. Don’t talk about werewolves like that.”

“Why?” The man winks. “Ahh. I see. Fucking one are you? Taking it straight up the ass like the fag you are, I’m sure. Probably enjoy it too.”

“Is it beastiality if he’s in human form while you fuck?” The man shrugs. “Or is it just - “

Sirius snaps.

His wand is in his hand in an instant, pointed directly at the first man. “Stupefy!” The man crashes backwards, directly into a bunch of boxes, and Sirius whirls. “Diffendo!”

Gashes appear in the floor and in the man’s skin, blood welling up from the cuts as he snarls. “Bastard. What the fuck?”

Sirius laughs, the sound slightly unhinged. His heart is pounding in his chest, his muscles tense and he loves it because finally. Finally he’s free, not thinking about Remus or Snape or the Prank, finally his head is clear. He just smiles back. “I warned you. Don’t talk about werewolves like that.”

“Fucking son of a bitch.” The man spits at Sirius’ feet. “Gay fag.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Flipendo!”

The spell hurtles toward the man, who just flicks his wand. “Protego.”

Sirius steps to the side, the bolt careening past his leg. He raises his wand, fire dancing at the top. “Incendio!”

He’s not sure how long the fight lasts. The man is good, handling multiple spells with ease, managing to slice Sirius’ arm, repel his spell and revive his unconscious friend on the floor. Sirius curses, blood running down his arm, pouring into his eye from a cut on his forehead. He blinks furiously, trying to get the thick liquid out, anger burning in his chest. Without thinking, he points his wand straight at the man, right at his chest. “Cru - “

“Sirius no!”

And suddenly a hand is wrapped around his wrist, the crimson jet at the tip of his wand flying wide. He turns, yanking his arm away, about to curse the person when he stops dead.

Remus stares back at him, panting and covered in blood, the moonlight making the lines on his face glow. Sirius swears. “Shit, Re, I….” He trails off. “Re. Re, there’s blood all over you - “

“It’s yours.” Remus’ voice is steady. “I’m fine.”

“But…” With a start, Sirius remembers the men. He turns around, his wand raised, only to have Remus step in front of him. “Sirius. No.”

Sirius whirls, fury burning in his chest. “What the fuck do you mean, no?”

Remus glares back at him. “No.”

There’s a bang. Sirius whips around, in time to see the man’s fingers close over the handle of his wand. With a pop, both men disappear, vanishing to god knows where, leaving nothing behind but a trail of blood.

“This close.” Sirius’ throat is tight, like someone was slowly strangling him. He coughs, swallowing hard. “I was this close to defeating them Re, this close! I had them!”

“You were about to use Crucio on them.” Remus’ voice is cold. “You were going to use an unforgivable curse on them.”

Sirius looks down. He feels something wet on his head, on his face. Rain starts to trickle from the sky in steady streams, darkening the pavement where he stood. He meets Remus’ gaze. “Yes.”

“God Sirius.” Remus runs his hands through his hair. “How could you? You know what it was like, being tortured. How could you wish that into someone else?”

Sirius bites his lip. He can taste blood, coating his tongue and cheek, salty and metallic. “They were insulting werewolves.”

Remus stares back at him, his face draining of colour. Sirius continues. “Saying things like...like they deserved to be put down. That they were monsters. That - “

“No.” Remus’ voice is shaking. “No. Y-you.”

“Re - “

Remus shakes him off. “No. Not for me. Never for me.”

Sirius frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not worth it.” Remus is trembling, his voice cracking on the words. “I’m not worth it Sirus, I’m not worth you attaching them! I’m not worth a fucking unforgivable curse, God, Sirius, you could have been thrown in Azkaban for that!”

“I don’t - “

“Don’t you dare.” Remus glares at him. “Don’t you dare say that you don’t care about going to Azkaban, don’t you dare say it. I am nothing, Sirius, I am nothing but a half breed, and you are a Black! You are practically a Prince and I swear, you cannot throw your life away for me!”

“I’m not throwing my life away.” Sirius keeps his voice calm. “I love you Remus, I know you don’t anymore but I do. I love you so damn much - I would go to Azkaban in a heartbeat if it would make you happy - “

“We are over,” Remus spits and the sound breaks Sirius’ heart. “We’ve been done for a month! How can you - how can you risk your life for something so stupid - “

“You’re not stupid! You mean something - “

Remus shakes his head. “I mean nothing. I am nothing in this world, nothing in this story! I am a small mark on your book Sirius, and you should leave and forget about me.”

Sirius closes his eyes. It’s pouring now, plastering Remus’ hair to his head. It soaks the ground, washing away the blood, rivlets of water dripping down his back.

“How can I forget about you, Re? I still love you.”

Remus closes his eyes. “Do you think I don’t?” He laughs bitterly. “It’s been almost a month now and I still find myself longing for what we had before.” He looks up. “But you see why we can’t, right? It’s not just...just what you did. You’re a prince, Sirius, you have your whole life ahead of you. As soon as I’m 17 I have to register. I’ll be put into a Werewolf Camp. I’ll probably die alone and starving in some alleyway somewhere.”

“Bullshit.” Sirius shakes his head. “I don’t give a damn about you being a werewolf, Re, I still love you - “

Remus just shakes his head. A small, choked noise escapes his throat, maybe a sob or maybe a laugh, and Sirius’ breath hitches. “Re - ?”

Remus just presses him against the wall and kisses him.

The rain pounds against the sidewalk, filling the air with the scent of rain, and Sirius leans back. Hungry, open mouths and roaming hands and God he’s wanted this for so long, wanted to feel Remus against him again, their lips pressed together, the steady rise and fall of the scars on their skin. He feels Remus’ fingers on his back, moving unfalteringly over the gashes, and Sirius closes his eyes.

Slowly, carefully, Remus pulls away. He steps back, his arms falling to his side, his hair sticking up in spikes. It’s hard to tell from all the rain, but Sirius thinks he sees tears in his eyes. “God. I’ve wanted…”

“Me too.” Sirius swallows. “Re - “

“No.” Remus takes another step back. “We can’t - we can’t do this - “

“Yes we can!” Sirius shakes his head. “I don’t care, Remus, I don’t give a damn that you’re a werewolf or that you’re not high-born or that you’re poor!”

“How could you fall in love - “

“I fell in love with Remus Lupin.” Sirius closes his eyes. “The kind, brave, beautiful boy who comforted me on my first night away from home. The boy who helped me with my projects and let me copy his homework. The one who taught me stitching spells when my mother started cutting me, the one who came when I woke up screaming from nightmares. I fell in love with the boy who kissed me for the first time just before a transformation, who always gave second chances. I fell in love with you, Re. Fuck the werewolf.”

“You - “ Remus’ voice cracks. “You deserve the world, Sirius. I...I don’t know if I can give that to you.”

Sirius just reaches forward. He presses his palm against Remus’ cheek, the fluttering in his heart growing as Remus leans into the touch. “You are my world, Re. I don’t need anything else.”

Remus bites his lip. “Sirius - “

“I love you.” He laughs. “God. I love you so much.”

Remus swallows, hard. He nods, pulls Sirius up closer against him. “I love you too.”

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

might fool around and make me mad (don’t make me mad) Chapter 4

(The last chapter of this fic! And I made it in time for premiere night! Yay me! I hope you all enjoy this fic until I get the next one planned, written, and posted.)

(Warning- there is a little more violence in here than the past ones during a fight)

AO3

“How could you have forgotten!” Chloe hissed as she slammed the car door behind her.

“I don’t know!” Dan shot back at Chloe. “I’ve never done it before. When it’s my turn to pick Trixie up, I never forget to do it. Chloe, I can barely remember most of today!”

“Why?” Chloe barely held back a scream. “Why aren’t you able to remember?”

“The last thing I remember was that guy from yesterday coming in. Neron or whatever. I told him we were gonna find the people stalking him and then nothing! Chloe, I can’t remember him leaving and it’s starting to freak me out.”

“Neron’s got a stalker?” Chloe frowned at the information as they entered the school. That did not fit the impression she’d gotten of him when they’d met. Although Lucifer had said he was from Hell...and she’d let him and Maze watch over Trixie the other day. He’d been the one who told her John Constantine was the one who killed the store clerk and she had believed him, a demon, to be telling the truth. He’d manipulated her into believing it was him by throwing her relationship with Lucifer in her face.

She’d been played.

“Detectives?” Trixie’s teacher had seen them and was looking incredibly confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I was supposed to pick up Trixie today,” Dan told him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep her waiting.”

“It’s been two hours since she left. I was told you were caught up in a crime scene. The officer who picked her up told me he’d be escorting her to the station. Provided his credentials and everything.”

“Was he tall? Dark hair, beard, kinda handsome? Has a lot of burns and cuts on his hands?” Dan asked.

Chloe side-eyed him as the teacher nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly right.”

“Did he mention where we were?”

“He said something about an incident at the pier, but didn’t go into details. What’s happening? Is Trixie okay?”

“I will call you later with more information,” Chloe said. “Do not talk to anyone else until I give you a call.”

Once her daughter’s teacher nodded, Chloe was running out the school with Dan on her heels. Her heart was starting to pound right out of her chest. Neron had Trixie. He had played her, he had played Dan, and now he’d gone after Trixie. She needed to call Lucifer and Maze. Even if her roommate was a demon, Trixie’s safety was something Maze had time and time again given a damn about.

She was waiting for Maze to pick up when a car drove past before speeding up. In the brief seconds as it passed, Chloe could make out a blonde in a trench coat sitting in the front seat. Another car sped past, following the first one around the corner. There was no way that was a coincidence.

Maze’s voicemail played, so she wasn’t picking up. Chloe fished her car keys out of her pocket and tossed her phone to Dan. “Get in the car. Call Lucifer, then try Maze again. We have to follow them.”

“But Trixie-”

“I know where she is now.”

~~~

“You’re thinking pretty hard over there,” Ray remarked to Des as they followed John and the others in the car ahead of them. “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m not looking forward to crossing paths with Neron again,” Des told him. “Last two times I’ve done it, things haven’t ended well. It’s reminding me too much of when I was possessed.”

“Oh,” Ray nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Well, at least Gary has people who want to get him out,” Des remarked. “John just sent me right to hell.”

Ray found himself at a loss for words.

“Look, I want to help him in some way because that is the worst thing that can happen to you,” explained Des. “But chasing after Neron reminds me of what he made me do and feel. Not to mention John is pulling away to the point where he doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me. It’s making it hard to be here.”

“People can have trouble finding their place here.”

Mick sighed from where he was driving as Charlie bobbed their head along to whatever they were listening to now. “Lemme sum up Haircut’s speech for you, New Guy. End of the day, you need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“I can make it sound better than that!”

But Des ignored them as they started to bicker. Mick had a good point there. He knew what he was going to have to do.

~~~

Maze plugged in her phone with a scowl. Stupid batteries were getting worse and worse. Her phone had died on the way to her latest bounty. Now that he was dealt with, she was taking advantage of the charger he’d had on him. At least he was good for something.

A series of texts and a few voicemails popped up it finally turned back on. Mostly from Lucifer, Chloe, and Dan. She pressed the latest from Chloe and listened.

“Maze, it’s Dan. Call me back as soon as you get this because Neron has kidnapped our daughter and screwed with both me and Chloe!”

Maze snapped the phone in two.

Neron had finally gone too far.

~~~

Gideon’s tracking on the car Neron was in brought them to a stop at an amusement park out on the waterfront. Once they had parked, all the Legends made haste to get over to the park. There was a lot of pressure not to screw up here. They had to make sure Neron was contained and not getting anymore souls. Unfortunately, the park was massive and crowded.

“Fan out,” Sara ordered once they were inside. “Neron and that kid could be anywhere. The police could show up at any second. If you see him, call it in on the comms and wait for someone. Do not engage him on your own.”

All of them set off in their own directions. John headed down towards the carnival games, eyes peeled for the slightest thing that could be amiss. There had to be a fight or argument going on somewhere around here. No way Neron could resist it with all the people milling about. But where was he?

Then he saw him in the distance with the kid. Neron was leading her into a funhouse currently closed for maintenance. Before he disappeared in the entrance, the demon turned around and gave a wink. Black veins were visible across his face.

Screw Sara’s orders of calling someone in. The kid was in danger now. 

John charged towards the funhouse, not hearing Ava shouting his name behind him.

~~~

“Trixie!” Chloe called out as she started down one of the aisles of games at the amusement park. “Trixie!”

She could feel her heartbeat thudding in her chest. It was just her and Dan searching for their daughter, but back-up was on the way. Neither Maze nor Lucifer had picked up when Dan had called on the way over. Whether they came or not, Chloe was going to search this whole place if it killed her.

“Trixie!”

“Mom!”

Chloe whirled in the direction of the voice. Sitting on a bench with her backpack was Trixie, holding a plush turtle that had to be a prize from one of the game booths.

“Trix!” Chloe cried, sprinting over and looking over her daughter. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” Trixie shook her head, but she looked scared. Chloe wasn’t sure if it was because of Neron or how she must have looked right now. “I’m not hurt.”

Chloe pulled her off the bench and wrapped her in a hug. “I was so scared. Your dad forgot to pick you up and we panicked.”

“Neron picked me up. He told Mr. Davis that you were waiting for me at the park. When we got here, he told me to go play a game and that you’d come get me.”

“And I did,” she nearly cried as she caught sight of Dan, waving him over to join them.

As Dan got his reunion time with Trixie and apologized over and over for forgetting her, Chloe found her eyes were drawn to a tall blonde woman. She was staring at them with alarm. Quickly, she batted Dan with her arm. “Look.”

Dan followed her gaze as the woman suddenly ran off towards the closed funhouse. “That’s one of the woman Neron said was stalking him. Should we go after her?”

Before Chloe could answer, their phones both pinged. A message from the department had been sent out to them. The government had just issued a warning for an active fugitive in the Los Angeles area. If any officers came into contact with him, they were to kill on sight. Two pictures of the fugitive had been attached. Chloe opened it, knowing exactly who it was from the second staticy image taken outside of Lux.

Neron.

~~~

Walking through a near-empty funhouse was not something John was enjoying. Knowing there was a demon possessing someone he cared about in there with a little girl made it even less pleasant. At least the lights were still on so he could see where he was going. But aside from his footsteps, it was nearly dead silent inside. That didn’t feel right at all.

“Just let the girl go!” he shouted in the middle of a room that was probably supposed to rock you from side to side. “It’s me that you want, Neron! I’m here now, so let her go!”

No response came, which he’d expected. He stepped out of the room and up a staircase that twisted in strange ways. At the end of that was a mirror maze.

“I know you’re hiding in there!” John shouted. “Show yourself!”

A loud screech pierced his ears, echoing around the maze. Then the lights flashed as a series of beats started to play.

Sometimes I feel I've got to

Run away I've got to

Get away from the pain that you drive into the heart of me

John winced at the music playing just a hair too loud, but it wasn’t going to turn him away. He set his sights on the maze ahead of him. A flash of white moved past one of the mirrors ahead of him. At the sign of life, John smirked and made his way into the maze as Tainted Love blared around him. He was getting close.

“I see you, Neron!” he called as a half a dozen John Constantines looked around for which direction to take at the split. 

And I've lost my light

For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

A laugh somehow cut through the music. “I see you too, Johnny!”

It sounded like it had come from the left, so he started running that way. It didn’t last for very long before he smacked into one of the mirrors. Of course Neron would pick a place like this to hide in, one that tricked people. He shook his head and continued down the path as the lights continued to flicker and the music screamed above him.

Take my tears and that's not nearly all

Oh tainted love

Tainted love

“John?” 

He glanced up to see Gary’s reflection in a mirror toward towards his right. Not Neron, but Gary. It was all in the eyes, the way the body held itself. John hurried towards him, head still aching from hitting the mirror. When he got to that mirror, he looked down the passage to the left to see he was still alone.

“You came for me?” the reflection asked, moving to one of the mirrors to John’s left. “John?”

“It’s me, squire,” John tried to smile at him, but the music and the lights and his headache made it difficult. Then he remembered Neron. “No, no, you’re not here.”

Gary’s face fell as he placed his palms on the glass. “Yes, I am! John, it’s me!”

“No, you’re a trick,” John snapped, talking the left pathway. “You’re not real! You’re a lie.”

“I thought you cared about me!”

The pain in his voice...it sounded too much like Gary. When John looked back, the reflection was gone.

You don't really want it any more from me

To make things right

You need someone to hold you tight

The path led him into a room with mirrors surrounding him from all sides. He couldn’t tell where the way out of it was. As he stood in the center, John felt the hairs creep up on the back of his neck. When he spun around, there was no one to be found. Just him and his reflection multiplied a dozen times.

“Look at me, John!” Gary’s voice screamed, drawing John to another mirror. He nearly forgot to breathe when he saw Gary, covered in blood. “Look at me!”

“And here I thought I was the only Gary you’d screwed over,” a familiar voice came from behind.

Once I ran to you (I ran)

Now, I'll run from you

This tainted love you've given

Gary Lester, face still freshly carved with containment marks, was glaring at him. 

“Gaz,” John whispered, rushing straight ahead to get out of the room only to collide with another mirror. “Fuck!”

“Should have been you, Johnny,” Richie Simpson snarled at him from the mirror he’d just run into. “I wish I could have told you it more often.”

John climbed to his feet, trying to run out and slamming into another mirror.

“How many more are you damning to hell, John?” Manny taunted from this one as he hit the floor.

John started to walk around the mirrors, putting his hand along them as he tried to find a way out. But he made a complete circle around with no exit. He was trapped in here. Neron had tricked him into this and now he couldn’t figure out which way was out. Music blared and lights flashed and he saw blood on the ground that could have been his or Neron messing with him. More and more people appeared in the mirrors and it felt like they were multiplying. Zed, Chas, Anne Marie, his mother, his father, his sister, Astra. Even the Legends were appearing, all of them screaming at him.

Don't touch me please

I cannot stand the way you tease

I love you, though you hurt me so

The song’s lyrics were blending together. He wasn’t sure if the light were blinking faster or if Neron was making him think that. John backed away from the mirrors so he was in the center of the room. Gary’s reflection suddenly stumbled out of the mirror towards him.

Tainted love, oh, tainted love, oh

Tainted love, oh, tainted love, oh

He couldn’t hear the song anymore, just nonsense garblings as he struggled to breathe.

~~~

“John!” Ava yelled as she ran through the funhouse.

She had seen him go running in after Neron and the girl, then saw Trixie Decker reunite with her parents mere seconds later. Then the alert had come in for all Bureau agents to kill Neron on sight. Once she made sure that the Legends knew where she was, Ava went in after John with Sara on her heels. The rest were going to be waiting at the exits. Neron would be surrounded whenever he came out.

“John!” called Sara as they started to hear faint music playing. “Oh I hate these places.”

“It’s like I’m in a horror movie,” Ava told her girlfriend. “I think I know how the final girl feels now.”

A scream shot through the air as they reached the staircase. The two women ran up the twisted staircase and into the mirror maze. The music was a little louder and the lights flickered from time to time. Screaming that sounded like John was coming from inside the maze. 

Sara flicked out her staves. “We better get him out.”

“Yep,” Ava agreed, flicking out her own baton before they started into the maze.

They did their best to follow the sounds of John’s screams and not hit any dead ends, which was easier said than done. Finally, Ava found John in the middle of a room, on his knees and screaming at the mirrors. She couldn’t see Neron anywhere, but there was no way she was taking chances. Running up to the nearest mirror, Ava slammed her baton into it. Glass shattered down and John looked her way. So she broke the one next to it and he seemed to notice it.

“What are you doing?” Sara asked as she entered the room. 

“Break the mirrors!” Ava shouted. “Neron’s made him see something.”

The two shattered all the mirrors surrounding John, slowly bringing him out of whatever Neron had made him see. Once the last mirror was shattered, John finally seemed to be back in reality and climbing to his feet.

“Thanks for the save,” John panted, wiping blood from a cut on his forehead. “I...let him get to me. He’s still in here. The girl...”

“She’s with her parents,” explained Ava. “They found her just after you went in. She’s okay.”

“I need to find him,” John lurched forward. “He’s still in here.”

“You’re facing him alone,” Sara lectured as they worked their way through the maze. “Hey, how much bad luck do you think we’ve brought upon ourselves back there?”

Ava groaned, hoping that the ridiculous superstition wouldn’t turn out to be true. “I haven’t heard anything from the others, so he-”

“Must still be inside with you?” the demon smirked as they rounded the corner.

“Jesus, Gary!” Ava screamed, forgetting for the briefest moment that this wasn’t her friend looking back at her.

Sara lunged forward with her batons, but Neron flicked his hand to the side. An invisible hand knocked Sara into a mirror hard enough to crack it while Neron turned tail and ran. Ava looked over at her girlfriend for a moment to make sure she was okay before chasing after the demon. It wasn’t easy with all their reflections, but she made it to the exit and gained ground. 

Neron was in front of a slide that was likely meant to go back down to the ground floor. Before he could get on it, Ava threw herself forward and tackled him down it. However, she soon figured out why the funhouse was closed: half the slide was missing. The two of them fell through the air before hitting the ground. Pain shot through Ava’s arm before she rolled to a stop, but her legs worked enough to kick Neron back down when he tried to get up.

“You have been the biggest pain in my ass!” she snarled as she climbed to her feet.

“Are you talking to me or Gary?”

Anger boiled up in Ava. She knew he was trying to push her buttons. Neron wanted her mad so he could take in the energy, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. He deserved to suffer for everything he had done to Gary, to Des, and for kidnapping that girl. So she took a deep breath and exhaled, letting her anger dissipate as much as she could. Now she could think more clearly and remember what had to be done.

“Gary, if you can hear me, I’m sorry about this,” she said, pulling out a salt shaker she’d taken from the Waverider.

She unscrewed the lid the best she could with one hand and poured a third onto Neron’s hand, right along one of the unhealed cuts. The demon’s screech sounded like two people, not one. Ava clutched her arm as the demon writhed and used the remaining salt to make a circle on the floor. Just as she finished, Sara and John arrived through the slide. The latter went straight for Neron while Sara hurried towards her. 

“Try to exorcism him,” Ava told John. “Just..try.”

“Ava-”

“Do it,” she ordered, ignoring Sara. “You won’t be alone.”

John looked hesitant, but began anyways. Ava spoke in unison with him, thankful she’d spent most of the day studying the book from the library. She had no idea if this was going to work or not, but she was willing to make the gamble. John had certainly not been expecting her to join him and neither had Sara based on their expressions.

Neron had started screaming again when the exorcism started. The black veins in his face slowly receded as he continued to scream. Ava held her breath until she heard the scream become Gary’s.

“Gary?” John stopped chanting and dropped down to his side. Ava limped over with Sara as Gary shook on the floor.

“It’s me,” Gary whimpered. “Everything hurts right now.”

“How you even managing this?” Sara asked. “You could barely talk last night.”

“You said last night John couldn’t get him out alone,” Ava addressed Gary. “You meant with the exorcism. More people, the more power the words have.”

Gary cracked a smile, a real one, before cringing. “He’s still in me, but you pushed him down enough for me to get back up. Thanks, Director.”

“You would have done the same for any of us,” Sara told him. “So if we get enough people to say an exorcism, then we can get Neron out of you?

Gary nodded. “You have to commit to it though. Really believe in it. Right, John?”

“You remembered?” John asked, earning another nod from Gary. “Good on you.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“It was Neron, not you,” John wrapped his hand around Gary’s. “But we will get him out, squire. Third time’s the charm. I promise you.”

“You have to do it soon. Neron’s going to the past to set someone free. Then he wants to invade the Bureau again. Do whatever you have to stop him, even if I go down with him.”

“Gary-”

“You swore it to me, John. Remember?”

“I did. But I don’t want you to get hurt, Gary.”

“I chose this to spare you, so I accept the consequences,” Gary shuddered, blinking several times. “He’s trying to come back up.”

“Before he does, you have to tell us something,” Sara bent down by Gary’s side. “What is Neron’s endgame? What is his plan?”

“He wants....no, not yet,” Gary squeezed his eyes shut. The veins in his face began to turn black again. “He wants the Earth. Now get out of here. I’m portaling as far away as here I can, but he’s going to want to fight again! Just get a head start so he can’t find you!”

“Gary-” Ava started.

“Go!” he cried, snatching his hand away from John’s. “Go before he hurts you anymore.”

Sara stood and hauled John to his feet. “We have to go.”

“No, no-”

“John, come on!”

John looked from her to Gary with a conflicted expression before dropping his hand into his pocket. Ava rose up to join them, but stopped.

“Gary, you give him as much hell as you can when he’s in control. Fight back. That’s an order.”

“I’ll try my best. Now please, go!” Gary pleaded as he slowly rose his courier. “Hurry!”

The three reluctantly left him behind to crawl through his portal while they made for the exit. Ava refused to let herself look back. She had hoped joining John in the exorcism would have rid Gary of Neron for good. They needed more people, but there was finally a solution to ending this that wouldn’t end in Gary getting killed while Neron possessed him.

Oh god, she’d completely forgotten to mention that. Now it was too late.

Ava had expected sunlight hit them as soon as they made it out of the exit, but the sun was actually going down. The rest of the Legends were waiting for them there. Ray and Charlie’s hopeful expressions faded fast when they realized it was just the three of them. Once again, they had failed to come away with Gary or even a contained Neron.

“Where is he?” Des finally asked.

John’s hand was in his pocket again. “We almost had Neron out. But he’s still got a grip. Gary’s given us a head start though by portaling somewhere else.”

Ava tuned out whatever was said next to look out at the beach beyond the park. She had so badly wanted a win for them today. Everyone, especially John, had needed it. While they had information of Neron’s plans, he hadn’t been beaten out yet.

“Hey,” Sara came up and wrapped an arm around her, mindful of her injured one. “You were awesome back there.”

“Awesome didn’t help us very long,” she muttered.

Sara nodded. “Hey, I know you’re angry. I could tell when you ran after him. But you didn’t let him manipulate you. You powered through even though I’m thinking you might have broken your arm.”

“Yeah,” Ava sighed. “I’m gonna need to see Gideon when we get back to the ship.”

“I think we all need to head back there,” Sara addressed everyone now, not just her. “We got some information from Gary in there that Nate and Mona are going to need to know.”

~~~

As they made their way out of the park, Ray’s phone began to ring. He looked at the phone screen with a frown before showing it to John. The shorter man’s eyes widened and he quickly hit Ignore. Sara exchanged a look with Ava, curious about what had just happened.

Nora beat them to the punch when they walked under the archway to exit. “Who was that?”

Ray exhaled. “Well, uh…”

“That would be me,” a smooth British voice replied.

Nine heads turned forward to see Lucifer Morningstar leaning against his car, phone in hand.

“You!” Nora narrowed her eyes at him. “You stay the hell away from me.”

“That charm you’re wearing should keep you from being affected by his energy,” John assured her before stepping forward. “Hello again, Lucy. Wish we had time to chat, but we don’t.”

“Oh, but you do for me,” Lucifer ran his eyes over the assembled team. “Quite the team you’re leading.”

“Actually, that’s the captain,” John pointed towards Sara, who stepped up to join him. “I’m just one of the strays who stuck around. Now if you don’t mind, we have places to go to.”

“I do mind though. I’m cashing in that favor you owe me, and it’s going to involve everyone you’ve come with.”

~~~

By eight, Maze had arrived at the hotel where Neron had told her to meet. Hotel Cortez was larger than she had thought it was, but it didn’t phase her.The whole facade looked like it had been plucked from the art deco era. It was probably had been built during then, given the scaffolding on one side of the building. Whatever they were doing, it wouldn’t erase that it was a hellmouth.

Maze walked up the steps and into the stunning lobby. A woman at the front desk with enormous spectacles regarded her for a moment before going to another room. The demon shrugged and headed towards the elevators. A sign next to the elevators informed her that the sixth floor was closed for renovation. Neron hadn’t mentioned any floor, but she was willing to bet that was where he wanted to meet. With any luck, she could be early and lie in wait for him.

The slow ride up gave her a chance to check her weapons one last time. Once the elevator stopped, Maze exited and walked down the hallway. She heard the sound of plastic rippling and followed after it. It took her towards a part of the floor where everything was ripped up down to the original structure. Tools, both manual and power, were all around the space.

Neron sat on a pile of wooden planks. “Hello, Maze.”

“Neron,” she sneered at him. “You’re early.”

“I had some time to kill,” he shrugged. “Might have another run in with the Legends again. You missed out on seeing Constantine run into mirrors.”

As amusing as it sounded, Constantine and everyone he’d come to town with (cute shapeshifter included) were far from her thoughts. “You have some explaining to do.”

“I explained everything last night.”

“Oh, not that,” she stepped towards him, keeping herself close to one of the stray tools. “You kidnapped Chloe Decker’s daughter when you were told specifically not to mess with her.”

Neron scoffed. “Lucifer said not to mess with the detective, but he never mentioned the spawn, or the ex either.”

Maze narrowed her eyes. “I know you’re inclined to chaos, hate, spreading negativity and all that. But you went too far this time.”

“Awww, did I touch a nerve, Mazikins?”

She threw out her first knife, pinning the leg of his pants the stack of planks. “Never call me that. If you had come to me a few years ago, I would have said yes to your plan and you.”

Neron stared at her, confused.

“I’m not coming with you, Neron. I was never going to, but then you went and hurt my family. I can’t let that go unpunished, even if you don’t feel guilty.”

“So,” Neron yanked the knife out. “You’re here to try and kill me then?”

“There’s no try here.”

Neron’s face shifted briefly to his demonic one. Maze mirrored the action before she ran at him.

~~~

“So...you’re the Devil then,” Sara broke the awkward silence in the car. She’d agreed to ride back with Lucifer so the Legends weren’t so squished in the cars behind them. It was the best show of good faith she could make as the captain and leader. So far, it seemed to be going well.

“Indeed I am,” Lucifer smiled. “And you’re the woman who’s died two, three times?”

“Define death,” Sara shot back. “Never thought I’d met the real Lucifer. What are you doing up here anyways?”

“I’ve been surface settled for quite some time. Used to just manage Lux but now I’ve added crime-solving to the daily schedule.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. What’s the devil doing solving crimes?”

“I like doing it,” he shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m quite the partner. You’d be surprised what I can get people to admit. Like you...what do you truly desire, Sara Lance?”

~~~

On the sixth floor of the Hotel Cortez, Maze was holding off Neron as much as she could. She could take him without breaking a sweat usually, except Neron had been powering up on souls. His reality-altering had little effect on her, but the telekinesis was a bitch. Still, if she got close enough to him with her knives or fists, they were closely matching.

“You know what I’m offering you, Mazikeen,” Neron growled as he blocked her knife. “Think about it! The two of us, Hell’s greatest demons, running things side by side.”

“I’m happy right where I am,” Maze laughed, kicking his shin to get the upper hand. “I never wanted to be a ruler. You...you just aren’t cut out for it.”

“Because Lucifer always told us that!” Neron knocked her legs out from under her. “We’re beneath him and you know it! We are literally beneath him and this is the chance to crawl out of the shadows!”

Maze turned over and slashed her knife at his face. He howled in pain. She’d missed his eye, but there was a long cut along his cheekbone. That would leave a mark. As he reacted, she took the chance to climb back to her feet.

“I’m not beneath him,” she announced as he crawled to his feet. “I’ve never been. Self-worth comes from within, you dick.”

She ran forward again and slammed him back into one of the supporting beams. As she felt for a knife, Neron headbutted her in the nose. She blinked, feeling her blood trickle out of her nose before punching him in the ribs. He groaned before kicking her back onto the ground. Maze hopped back up and their violent dance repeated itself until Neron went sailing through a wall.

Once he did, Maze pulled out the knives that would end him for good and ran for the nw hole she’d created. However, Neron was on his feet and send her flying back with a wave of his  hand. As she rose again, her old partner was looking right at her, more hate in his eyes than ever before. His wrist, the one with his time travel watch or whatever, was raised.

“We could have been something together, Mazey,” he taunted, wiping his cheek and smearing the blood there. “Once I win, after I’ve killed the Legends, you’ll be next.”

“One of us will kill the other,” she told him. They’d always known this from the day they met. Now, it seemed closer than ever. “I know exactly which one I’ll be.”

She threw the knife towards his head. Neron pressed something on the watch thing and dropped down out of sight. Her knife embedded into the wall and Maze ran over confused. When she peered through the hole, Neron was gone. He’d escaped at the last second.

She screamed as loud as she could. 

Five minutes later, Maze was back in the lobby of the Hotel Cortez. No other guests were milling about in the quiet lobby. The woman at the front desk didn’t seem bothered by her bloody and beaten appearance as she walked past her. The night air was cool on her open wounds, soothing them. Maze then turned to her left and saw the convertible Neron had been driving around in. He was nowhere in sight.

Maze walked back inside the hotel, made her way to the bar, and paid for the whole bottle of whiskey. She also nabbed a napkin on the way out. This time, the woman was paying attention, like she knew a show was coming. Maze smirked as she took a pull from the bottle and stuffed the napkin inside it. Pulling out a lighter, she set fire to the napkin and tossed it into the backseat of Neron’s car. She backed up enough to watch it go off and walked away with a smile.

She felt better now. Although she was definitely about to get a bad Uber rating.

~~~

“So we’re all here now,” John sighed as they entered Lucifer’s penthouse. “What the hell is this favor you want out of us?”

“It better not be clowns,” Mick grumbled.

Lucifer looked disgusted. “Please. I wouldn’t cash in a favor from John Constatine that involves clowns.”

“Then why do you want him?” Ava asked. “And all of us too? You made the deal with John.”

“Yes, but clearly you’ve all got history with Neron. In the last few days, you’ve made a scene at my club, got a third of yourselves arrested, and fought him twice with a result of nothing. All while he still gets more powerful.”

“Really?” Nora snarked. “We had no idea!”

Lucifer paused and looked at her. “Mallus took you for a spin, didn’t he?”

“These days, I fight the demons,” she responded. “Besides, I’m not the only one here who’s been a vessel. Des was Neron’s last host.”

“And then he body-hopped into his new meatsuit,” Lucifer finished. “Yes, I’m aware of the history. Which brings me to the favor I’ve come to ask of you.”

John plopped down on the sofa, pulling out a cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it. “Just tell us already.”

“I’m getting to that,” Lucifer stole the cigarette from him. “I’m asking you to put an end to Neron once and for all.”

“Like kill him?” Mick asked. 

“Exactly,” the Devil handed John back the cigarette. “That’s it. I want him gone from existence.”

“Then that makes two of us,” John told him. “Easy enough. I’ll do it.”

“But what about Gary?” Ray asked. “You were hellbent on us not killing Neron today because Gary was in there. How are we supposed to get him out?”

“There is a way,” Sara told him. “But we’re all going to need to memorize how to do an exorcism.”

“Well, it seems you’re in capable…” Lucifer trailed off as the elevator doors opened. “Maze?”

John turned around with the rest of the Legends to see the demon exiting the elevator. He hadn’t seen Mazikeen for a few years, but she looked like her home tonight. Dried blood was splattered across her face and arms, enough that John wasn’t sure how much was her own. A faint smell of burned leather filled his nostrils once she stopped and regarded the group.

“What are they doing here?” she asked, peeling off her jacket and dropping it on a chair. 

“You were with him the other night,” Ava’s voice was like ice. “You’re working with him. Where is Neron?”

“About this tall, dark hair, missing a nipple?,” Maze shrugged. “Don’t know right now. And I was never working with him. Not really, anyways. I was keeping an eye on what he was doing here.”

“How did you know he’s missing- no, forget it,” Ava shook her head. “Why the hell should I believe anything that comes out of the mouth of a demon?”

“Because she’s on Lucifer’s side,” John explained. “Maze, the Legends. Legends, this is Mazikeen, one of Hell’s finest torturers. And judging by the look of you, I’d say you’ve been out doing your job?”

Maze glared. “Actually trying to kill Neron, only he slipped through my fingers. So I blew up his car.”

“Nice,” Mick complimented.

“And why were you trying to kill Neron?” John asked. “Because I’d prefer you didn’t until I have him out of his current host.”

“He went too far today,” Maze glanced towards Lucifer. “You hear that he kidnapped Decker’s daughter and left her at the amusement park? I was willing to overlook a lot, but he went after our family. He’s taken in so many souls that he’s completely power mad.”

“He WHAT?!”

“What do you mean by that?” Zari asked, going back to what Maze had been saying. “And do you maybe know what he’s planning to do?”

“Gary told us he wants the Earth...whatever the hell that means,” Sara told her. “He got through to us in the funhouse and managed to get that much out before Neron started to take over again.”

Maze nodded. “He told you about half of that. Impressive considering Neron’s been torturing the shit out of him. But yes, he does want the earth. He also wants to rule it and turn it into an upper layer of hell instead of a middle zone.”

“He wants to make Earth Hell 2.0?” Sara questioned. “Why not just rule Hell?”

“He can’t,” Lucifer, John, Maze, and Charlie all said in unison before Lucifer continued. “No demon can ascend the throne of Hell. Heaven’s out of the question. Earth has always been neutral ground. It has no ruler.”

“So Neron wants to rule the world,” Ava swallowed. “Well, at least we know what he wants.”

Everyone’s faces dropped at the thought of the possibility, but John noticed Des and Nora sharing a glance. Like they’d known this the whole time they were here in Los Angeles. It made sense, since Des had been possessed by Neron before. This whole time...he had known and never told him. John couldn’t believe him.

“We are going to bring him down,” Sara promised, setting her eyes on Lucifer. “You want us to kill Neron? Done. And we’ll save the world while we’re at it.”

“You better,” Maze told them. “I may be from Hell, but I like things just the way they are up here.”

“Then we better get going,” John stood up. “Glad we’re even now, Lucy.”

“Not until he’s dead, Johnny,” Lucifer sneered back, but Maze wasn’t quite done.

“You,” she pointed to Ava. “Stay back. The rest of you go.”

“The hell we are,” Sara stepped closer to her girlfriend with Charlie.

Maze rolled her eyes. “I’m not doing anything to her. She’ll be down in a minute.”

“It’s fine,” Ava told them. “Just go.”

John didn’t like leaving Ava anymore than the rest of them, but things were good between him and Lucifer right now. It would do no good to hurt Ava right now when they were allies in stopping Neron. As they got into the elevator, John put as much distance between himself and Des as he could. He was still trying to figure out what to say to the other man.

Once they were at the ground level, they waited while people moved past them to get up to the club. A few minutes passed before Ava came out of the elevator. She looked to be intact, save for her previously-hurt arm. When Sara asked her what had happened, Ava told her that Maze had given her some advice about not letting personal connections prevent them from taking out Neron.

“Anything on where he might be?” Ray asked.

Ava shook her head. “No. Also, Charlie, if you ever come back to LA, Maze would love to see you again.”

The shapeshifter smiled while Zari glared. “Let’s just get back and figure out where Neron ran to.”

~~~

Lucifer watched the tiny figures of the Legends walk to their vehicles and drive off. With any luck, they could pull this out and all walk away alive. He’d seen enough about most of them to know they had the skills to succeed. It all depended on whether they could use them together to eliminate Neron for good.

“Nice view out here.”

Lucifer turned to see Chloe leaning against the balcony beside him. “You’re here?”

“Yeah, I figured this would be where I could find you,” she chuckled. “I came to say sorry.”

“Chloe, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Except for not trusting you and refusing to answer your calls,” she sighed. “Maze told me Neron was from Hell. I thought he’d be like you and Maze when he told me that Constantine was the one who killed the clerk.”

“You thought you could trust him,” Lucifer summarized. “And because of that, he manipulated you.”

“Yeah, that. He made me think that Constantine was here for you and then he pulled up a picture of Trixie. Now that I think about it, he threatened her right then and there.”

Remembering what Maze had told him earlier, he turned to Chloe. “I didn’t know he took Trixie. I haven’t been on my phone all day and never heard it go off.”

Chloe frowned. “I called you over and over. Did you have it on silent?”

“No, no, I-” he stopped as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. “This isn’t my phone.”

“What? You’re sure.”

He pressed the home button, showing her the lock screen of some Dungeons and Dragons die. “Positive.”

“Neron?”

“Has to be, but he’s gone. I told him to get out of town by the end of today. He must have changed the phones then. But he’s not here anymore. Maze has chased him out, and Constantine’s after him. He will never hurt you or anyone you love again.”

Chloe looked a little relieved. “Good. Sorry about your phone though.”

“I’ve been needing a new one anyways. The battery’s garbage.”

That got a snort out of her. “I need to get home. Dan’s over tonight making sure Trixie’s okay after today. But see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

~~~

“You knew the whole damn time.”

Des jumped in surprise, which was exactly how John had wanted to catch him. “What the hell, Johnny?”

“You knew Neron wanted to take over the earth this whole time, didn’t you?” John snapped. “And you never said a word.”

“I told Nora,” Des spat. “Because she asked and gave a damn about my wellbeing. Unlike you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Are you kidding me?” Des laughed. “Do you seriously not see it?”

John felt his stomach drop as Des continued.

“When Neron took over me, you sent me to Hell. I was there for months and you didn’t do anything to free me. All you did was run. Then when Neron jumps into this Gary, you want to stop him? You are willing to run across the country and time to free him and kill Neron. How come I never got that?”

“I thought you were gone for good!” John protested. “I was afraid, especially when Neron said he was coming for me again. Then he let you go and took Gary. I swore to him I’d do what it took to win. And I’m-”

“You knew I was possessed by Neron this whole time and never asked me about it.”

“It was a traumatic experience for you!”

“But when you got through to Gary, you asked him and he told you only a part, but it was good enough!”

“Des-”

“Do you love him?”

The words died in John’s throat. “Des-”

“Do you still love me?” the hurt was too evident in his voice.

“I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Des sighed. “You moved on from me, Johnny. Whether you accept that or not, you did.”

As much as John hated to admit it, he was right. He had moved forward. And he had screwed up not asking Des sooner about the plan.

“We can’t change that now, time machine or not,” Des continued. “This isn’t how I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“I want to help free Gary from that bastard,” Des told him. “But Neron is still too fresh in my head. I have to step back from this and get my head together. These last few days plunged me back into a nightmare. I need some space, so I’m getting off here. I’ll fly back to New Orleans tomorrow. But when you all know how to get him out of Gary for good, come find me. I’m keeping my word to stop Neron.”

John nodded. He pulled the medallion Des had given him off his neck and handed it back to him.

“I get it,” he told him. “And for what it’s worth, I am sorry for how I’ve treated you.”

“Then learn from it,” Des took the medallion and put it back on. “I’m gonna talk to Sara and leave. Goodbye, Johnny.”

“Goodbye, Des.”

And then it was just him in hallway. In the direction where Des had walked, he could hear Sara greeting him and the bits of the conversation that followed. John walked in the opposite direction and pulled Gary’s glasses out of his pocket. There was a new crack in the lenses, probably from where he ran into a mirror.

“Hope you’re annoying the shit out of him,” he murmured, remembering Ava’s last order to Gary.

~~~

Ava was lying alone on her and Sara’s bed, processing through the events of the past few days now that Gideon had healed here arm. They had come to LA because Neron had been here and now they were leaving with a plan to save Gary. Although that was going to take a lot of work considering Hank had issued the order to kill him and knowing Neron wanted to take over the world. Not to mention they didn’t even know where he was at this moment. And then there was the other thing.

Ava pulled out a curved knife, staring at it against the light and remembering her conversation with Mazikeen.

“Why do you need to talk to me?” she grumbled once the Legends had left.

“You seem pretty capable of handling yourself?” the demon replied with a smile. “And you’re not John Constantine.”

“Fair enough. So what’s this about? Do you know where Neron is right now?”

“I already told you no, and that’s not why I’m talking to you. Constantine’s good and all, but you need to have a backup plan when magic falls through,” Mazikeen said, pulling out a curved blade and holding it out to her. “This is your backup plan.”

Ava took hold of it, studying the feather-like design on it. “I have access to plenty of knives, but thanks.”

“Not this kind of knife. It’ll kill anything, human or otherwise.”

“Something like Neron then?”

Mazikeen grinned. “Exactly. Just stab him in his host and it’s lights out for good. You’ll end his existence then and there.”

“Handy, and it sounds easy enough,” Ava remarked, then remembered it wasn’t just Neron in there. “What about the soul trapped inside?”

“It would kill him too.”

Ava shook her head. “I can’t do that to him.”

“Well, you have to kill Neron somehow and I don’t think he’s too keen on leaving his body.”

That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Ava scowled and put the knife away. “Thanks.”

“Sure, but I’ll be wanting that back once you’re done. And if that pretty shapeshifter wants to come along, I’ll be happy.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ava headed towards the elevator before stopping. “Why did you pick me to give the knife to?”

Mazikeen paused. “I’ve got a good feeling about you. You look like you’ve made some hard calls.”

Remembering Maze’s words, Ava closed her eyes and exhaled. Then she placed the blade back into her jacket. She took out her phone, scrolled to her calls, and clicked a number she’d been dialing for too long. Ava sat up on the bed, waiting for someone to pick up.

“Hello,” a man’s voice answered.

Ava exhaled. “Hi, is this Jeffery Green?”

“Yes. Who’s calling?”

“Sir, I work with your son, Gary. Something’s happened…”

~~~

55 B.C.

He wasn’t pleased about being summoned back to the village in the middle of the hunting expedition. However, a stranger had come in search of him. He had no others travelling with him, which seemed odd. The sooner he was dealt, the better. Besides, there were enough men already hunting anyways.

“Unusual for strangers to be traveling around on their own,” he addressed the man in the brown robe.

“I assure you, I can handle myself,” the man said smoothly with a smile. “You must be Konstentyn.”

“I am. Does that strike you as amusing?”

The stranger shook his head, the smile falling away. “You just remind me of someone.”

“Hmpf. And who might you be?”

“You can call me Neron,” the man told him, the smile returning to his face. “And I’ve come quite a long way to find you.”