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lostdreamr-blog1 · 15 days

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Pinky Promise 3

Part 1

Part 2

Word count: 2K

Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader

A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!

The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.

Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”

It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.

“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”

He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”

You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”

This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.

Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.

“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.

“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”

Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”

You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”

Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”

Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”

It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.

You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.

The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”

You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”

“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”

It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”

“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.

“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.

When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.

“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.

“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.

“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”

And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.

After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.

“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.

“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.

“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”

Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.

It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.

But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.

“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.

“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.

“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.

You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.

“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.

“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.

“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.

“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.

“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.

“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”

He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”

You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”

He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”

“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”

Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.

“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”

You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”

Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”

Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #topgun maverick #jake seresin x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangman top gun #chelsea writes

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wendynerdwrites · 2 months

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A Measured Response: A Measured Response

Above please find the video I'm responding to, "A Measured Response" by James Somerton. If he deletes later (and I suspect he may), I will reblog with an embed of a copy of the video.

Also note: Much of this is taken from comments I made on his video. But I believe he may be deleting them. Or I got caught up in the spam filter because I commented more than once out of sheer frustration with what I was hearing.

James,

Okay, I am going to start off with a couple things I will give you credit for:

1) Acknowledging the shitty effect nuking your channel had on Nick's career and prospects. That's actually something that hasn't been discussed much and it is genuinely good of you to volunteer that to your audience. As someone who once had her own portfolio nuked by former partners, that's a good thing to bring up. No notes there. That was a good move.

2) You actually used the word 'plagiarism' this time.

I would also like to say that I am glad that you are safe and I am glad you are still alive.

I'm hearing lots about insurance, and your mental health struggles, and the move YOU chose to make "disrupting everything" and your mom's death, "not citing things correctly", how ADHD apparently made you plagiarize, and how hard things are for you. And how people harassed and doxxed you. How you totally want to prove yourself!

Here's what I'm not hearing about:

1) The harassment campaign you launched against your accusers that literally caused them to go into hiding. Sorry, but you don't get sympathy points about death threats and doxing without at least expressing remorse when you did that to others. You haven't mentioned it once. you also falsely accused OTHERS of sending harassment your way and have not acknowledged it.

2) The multiple transphobic and misogynistic lies you told.

3) The tangible impact of queer erasure YOU ENGAGED IN. You barely mention any of the people you stole from. Believe it or not, James, but those people? They also had lives, and jobs, and obligations. Some of them also had dead parents. Then there are the queer people you erased the identities of, slandered, and insulted. Becky Abertelli had to deal with YEARS of the same sort of harassment you're complaining about because of people calling her straight. And even after she was FORCED OUT OF THE CLOSET, you perpetuated that lie again. And yes, YOU DID, JAMES. PUTTING HER IN THE 'STRAIGHT AUTHORS' CATEGORY IS CALLING HER STRAIGHT, JAMES. THAT'S HOW CATEGORIES WORK. Then when she briefly corrected you, you lied about her repeatedly and inserted nasty little vague comments about her so that you could bait your audience into asking about it and claim she harassed you on twitter for not liking her show (which never happened once. She didnt even bring up you straight-washing her on twitter. It was in your comments section.). So not only did you lie, you went out of your way to create opportunities to lie about her more.

4) The outright dangerous rhetoric you engaged in. Such as:

a) You lied about the AIDS epidemic and generations of actual queer activists who you claimed didn't care about employment discrimination and just wanted to have "big gay weddings" because they were "boring. This is a false and dangerous retelling of queer history, not only isolating new generations of queer people, but also erasing the tangible benefits of the legal benefits you enjoy now, James. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY COULD HOLD THEIR DYING LOVERS' HANDS AS THEY PASSED AND ATTEND THEIR FUNERALS, JAMES. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY WEREN'T KICKED OUT OF THEIR HOMES AND STRIPPED OF BENEFITS DURING A HEALTH PANDEMIC, JAMES. THEY DID FIGHT FOR EMPLOYMENT RIGHTS, JAMES. THAT'S HOW SEXUALITY BECAME A PROTECTED CLASS. Lying about and downplaying the legal rights these valiant "boring" people fought for misleads current generations of queer people into caring less about their history, the people who have done the most for them, and protecting the legal rights so desperately won.

b) All the gay Nazi shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain why inventing facts about all the Nazi secret police and youth counselors being gay and extorting people for sex under the Reich is so insanely dangerous and disgusting, but here's a hint: it casts your own community as being the vile, perverted criminals that THE ACTUAL PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD (you know, homophobes? Not people on the internet who noticed you plagiarized the Celluloid Closet) perpetuate in order to sell their draconian policies to the masses.

c) all the misogyny. I get it, you want to erase the discrimination against women (and people you claim are women) have faced, especially as queer women. You wanted to pretend Radcliffe Hall was allowed to "carry on with her happy little life." You wanted your audience to believe that. You wanted your audience to shit on women for moral panics you made up. You wanted to erase the queer identity of a woman who had already been through Hell and then pass it off as justified. With the rising tied of renewed misogyny,, incel attacks, and reproductive rights being stripped from us, you really, really wanted to sell the message of women being whiny, jealous bitches who get handed everything, never deal with consequences, and hate people for not liking their work. (TBH, it feels a bit like projection on your part) thank you for spreading so much incel rhetoric and transphobia and making your audience ignorant of the great contributions women have made to LGBTQIA history.

I'd respect you more if you would just own up to the obvious biases you clearly have.

That's not all, but my hands are getting tired.

5) That you were caught lying about the contents of Hbomb's video in your initial patreon response.

6) The worth of the people you stole from.

7) Using Nick's asexuality as an excuse for your acephobic AF bullshit about how ace people apparently never dealt with institutional oppression when they're the most likely to be sent to conversion camp and have had corrective rape used as a "treatment" throughout history. Like, holy shit, James.

8) How you tried to lay blame for your shitty, stolen work on your own audience because "you didn't wanrt to make them and they were patreon requests." You didn't have to keep video requests as a perk. Those people paid over $300 to you for those wids only for you to throw them under the bus.

9) Your complete refusal to update your Telos backers on anything besides announcing new projects that you were using to replace the projects you promised them. You could have gone on Patreon, Indiegogo, Twitter, or your channel, and explained things. Things like this happen. But instead you ghosted and gaslighted.

10) The shit you pulled about Nebula.

11) The shitsquillion dollars you spent on cameras you didn't need when you were also claiming to your patrons about being on the verge of homelessness.

"It's a documentary, no opinion just cited facts." James, you've cited "facts" like "15% of the Hitler Youth counselors were gay", "Radcliffe Hall didn't get punished for writing a book about lesbians", and "there was no fight against employment discrimination" as "facts."

Then there's the part where you're still insisting that the people who told you that you can't make a short film on 3K were wrong. You insist it's possible because you intended to use non-union labor. then two minutes later you admit a movie you put together ended up going way over-budget because you didn't realize how much things would cost.

So the Telos nay-sayers had a point, James. Why are you still acting like they were wrong. Do you just not want anyone to find Dan Olsen's tweets about your finances?

The fact that you think you have any business coming back when all you've ever managed are lies and theft is so hilariously conceited. I get it. You want to be able to "carry on with your happy little life" (the way Radcliffe Hall DIDN'T). You want to go back to being a big youtuber and for everyone to admire you once you manage to go a whole video without stealing from anyone. That's not how this works. You have no credibility. You have caused a huge amount of damage not just to your immediate audience, but also the queer community overall.

You hurt a lot more people than Jessie Gender, James.

"We weren't trying to lie about things." BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU NOT ONLY LIED ABOUT BECKY ALBERTALLI MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU EVEN MADE AN INDIRECT DIG AT HER SO YOUR AUDIENCE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT SO YOU COULD LIE ABOUT YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH HER AS WELL. YOU LIED ABOUT WHO ACTUALLY WROTE YOUR VIDEOS. YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR CREDITS. YOU LIED ON PURPOSE. AND YOU LIED IN WAYS THAT HURT PEOPLE.

You also lie in your video saying "in the beginning, I thought it was enough to put people's names in the opening credits." No you didn't. You started using those opening credits well after the accusations came rolling in. You even admitted on twitter that in the beginning you weren't "citing my sources yet."

Do I believe much of your bullshit was pure laziness? Certainly. But there can be more than one reason for it. There's no way you knew who Radcliffe Hall was and actually thought she face no repercussions. No one who has ever heard of The Well of Loneliness DOESN'T know all the prints were destroyed. It being a lesbian book that was destroyed by the courts is THE STORY.

You lied when you said you didn't call Becky Albertalli straight. EVEN THOUGH YOU ADMIT TO PUTTING HER IN THE STRAIGHT CATEGORY.

You lied about your "adaptation" of Evil Queens and tinker Bells and the citation and schedule of when you got approval. You got approval after the fact and claiming you got it from the beginning. your own email screenshot proves it.

You lied saying the Evil Queens video was "a direct adaptation of the books" despite half the video being plagiarized from completely different works. You lied about your plagiarism accusations and HBomb's video rehashing old "debunked" accusations on Patreon. You lied about Alexander Avila. You lied about reading/watching a bunch of the media you were "critiquing." you lied about when you started with your opening credits.

These were ALL LIES YOU TOLD ON PURPOSE.

You don't "research", "write", shoot, edit, and post a video with shit like that in it and say it wasn't malicious or intentional. You put these videos out there with scores of lies, many of which were directed at various marginalized groups, and CHOSE to never check if anything you said was true. You don't invent entire fake moral panics "by accident." You don't plagiarize by accident.

Please don't spend forty minutes reciting excuses and then claim "these are not excuses." You're not fooling us.

Also - Leave your poor mother out of this. She already had to die of cancer. Let the poor woman rest.

But thank you for linking your new patreon and telling us all about your upcoming videos! I am glad you have your priorities straight. (that was sarcasm)

Just leave the internet, James. Not LIFE, OBVIOUSLY. Stay alive. But your time as a content creator is done. You have no viability in that area. The fact that you think you can just do this is equal parts entitled and delusional. That you think you can come back so soon makes it even worse. Tell you what: you can try again after it's verified that the people you stole from have been compensated and you properly apologize for everything else.

I will not believe you're truly sorry until you can actually apologize without caveats, excuses, and, yes, lies. Saying you're sorry for "not citing things correctly" is not apologizing for what you did. It's cushioning the actual facts and downplaying your transgression. You have not apologized for the misogyny, acephobia, or transphobia, which, yes, YOU DID. I don't care if you want to claim it wasn't intentional YOU STILL DID IT. You haven't apologized for harassing and slandering your critics.

So no, James, I don't really believe you're sorry. I think you're sorry this blew up and that you have to make a new patreon. I don't trust that you won't continue being misogynistic. I don't trust that if you ever see this comment, that you will actually read it instead of crying homophobia and cancel culture and "wanting you dead."

Admit that you harassed people and that it was awful. Admit the extent. Admit you lied about Becky Albertalli and apologize to her. Admit that, yes, YOU HAVE SOME REAL ISSUES WITH WOMEN and that you are ready to confront them.

I don't trust you to do the right thing here. But maybe this comment will be read by someone who might have otherwise fallen for this and it'll be easier for them to see through manipulation like this in the future.

Just log off, Bro.

#james somerton #response #plagiarism

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cameronspecial · 7 months

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would you please consider making a 2nd part to The Other Drew maybe them going on reading dates and him bringing her lunch to work, her coming to his games 🥹

The Other Y/N (Part 2)

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Swearing and Stealing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

The screams of the crowd overwhelm the girl and she really wants to leave, but the need to be here for her boyfriend overrides any instinct to run. Her seat is close enough to the court that she can clearly see the sweat dripping off of his face as he plays. No matter how many times Drew tries to explain the rules of basketball to her, she still has no clue what is going on. The blow of a whistle for a foul stops the game and the crowd quiets as Drew gets ready to take the shot. The bouncing ball draws everyone's attention. He takes a second to look in Y/N’s direction and the confidence in her eyes gives him the courage to throw the ball.

The ball circles the edge of the rim, going round and round before falling through the centre of the hoop. A loud horn sounds to announce the end of the game and the whole court goes crazy with celebration. The rest of the players turn to congratulate him, but his attention is fully on her. He runs into the stands and once he reaches her, he picks her up in his arms. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Darling. You are my lucky charm,” he announces, spinning them around in a laugh. She gives him a massive grin and brings their lips together. He finally puts her down and with her encouragement, he goes to celebrate with his teammates.

———

After a night out celebrating with his team and an early morning celebrating together without clothes on, Y/N has to wake up early to head to work. A naked Drew groans, rolling over to watch her put some clothes on. He doesn’t comment on the fact that she is putting on one of his sweatpants and t-shirts; his closet is practically hers now anyway. “Why are you up? Come back to bed, Darling,” he groans, reaching an arm out to tug her closer to his bed. She gives a little giggle as he pulls her onto the bed and wraps a leg around her waist so she can’t escape. She tries to wiggle out of his grasp, “Baby, you know I have to go to work. Now, please let me go. I promise I will be back in your bed before you know it.” He gives a little sigh in defeat. “Fine, I’ll let you go. But I want you to pick out the next book we read together. We are done with The Midnight Library and it’s your turn to pick.” She nods, “Okay, I will. Anything in specific we are in the mood for?”

“Hmmm, maybe a Greek mythology retelling. The one I’m reading in my Mythology literature course is boring as fuck.”

“Sounds good. I’ll try to see if I can find something more interesting.”

———

Y/N is helping a little girl choose a book when Drew walks into the store. “How about this one? It’s about a princess with magical powers?” she suggests, holding up a book with a princess on the cover. A grin spreads across the girl’s face. She grabs the book with thanks and runs off to her mom. Y/N smiles, heading back to the front desk to see her boyfriend waiting for her with a paper bag.

“Hey Baby, what are you doing here?” she asks. She leans over the counter to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He holds up the back so she can read the logo, “Brought us some food to share, Darling. When can you take your break?” She looks towards the clock and does a little math in her head. “Aww, thank you. Bianca is coming back from her breaking in five so we can head to the back then,” she determines, starting to get back to work with scanning the new inventory. He nods at her statement and goes to look around the store. When Bianca returns, Y/N takes Drew to the employee break room.

The store isn’t very big, so the break room is really just the stock room with lockers, a fridge, a microwave, and a small table pushed into a corner. As soon as they sit down at the table, Drew is sure to pull her chair close to his so he can wrap his arm around her waist. She takes out their burgers and rips the bag open to have easy access to the large fries inside. They begin to eat in a comfortable silence. “Have you found a book to read yet?” he breaks the silence. She finishes chewing her food before answering, “Yeah, I was thinking of Circe by Madeline Miller. I’ve seen some pretty good stuff about it on Instagram and I liked the Song of Achilles.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about picking that up myself. Some girl in my class was talking about it the other day. Good choice, Darling. Do you guys have it in stock or do you need me to pick it up before tonight?”

“No, we have it so I can get it once my shift is over. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Austin and I are going to watch a movie, so if I don’t respond to your text that’s probably why.

“What movie are you watching?”

“Not sure. We are going to choose at the theatre. What time are you off? Should I pick you up?”

“I’m done at four, but Bianca can give me a ride. I’ll just meet you at your house. I’m sorry, Baby. We gotta wrap it up. My break is almost over.”

———

The frat is filled with rowdy boys all having a laugh when Y/N comes back after work. She greets most of the boys, yet she doesn’t stop to talk to any of them because she knows where the one person she wants to talk to is. Like always, the back deck is decorated with fairy lights and a red and white checkered blanket is laid out on the floor. Pillows and charcuterie boards litter the blanket. Drew stops rearranging a board at the sound of the sliding door opening.

“Hi Darling, how was work?” he welcomes, settling himself on a pillow so she can lie down on him. She rests her head on his stomach, “It was fine. Nothing special happened. Having you come for lunch was the highlight of my day.” He smiles at her words. “It was the highlight of my day too, Darling. I love you,” he moves the hair away from her temple and gives her a kiss. She takes out the book from her tote, “I love you too. Can you read first, please? I miss the sound of your voice.” His smile turns into a grin and he takes the book from her hands. Her head turns on his stomach, so she can look at his face and her ear is pressed against him. He starts to read from the book. They take turns reading and feeding whoever is reading until both of their eyes feel droopy. They call it a night, packing everything up before heading up to his room.

———

Drew never thought his girlfriend would be by his side right now. It is the night before his game against his big rival team and they find themselves sneaking into the team’s storage closet. “I can’t believe you are doing this with me,” he whispers while picking the lock. Her mouth finds the shell of his ear, “I can’t let you do this by yourself. Plus, their cheerleaders were jerks to me last time you had a game with them.”

“How come you didn’t tell me? I would’ve had a word with them.”

“It’s okay. I saw the head cheerleader fall on her face when you were in the changing room. It was funny. Now, hurry up before we get caught.”

He finishes with the lock and she runs inside to get the mascot costume. “Hey, you aren’t supposed to be here!” a voice yells from behind them. They turn to see a security guard running their way and he takes her hand into his. They start running toward the exit. When they get to the outdoors, they look for places to hide and come up empty. The only thing Drew can think to do is something he saw in a movie. He gently spins her against the wall and places his hand above her head. His finger lifts her chin up. His lips capture hers and they start making out. The security guard quickly shines his flashlight in their face before moving on to look in another direction.

The giggles they let out when he leaves probably give them away, but they don’t care. They run to his car while laughing like maniacs. “I can’t believe we got away with this,” she awes, looking at the mascot suit in the backseat. He gives her a quick kiss, “I still can’t believe you did this. It’s like you are a completely other Y/N.”

“What can I say? I have multiple sides to my personality.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you

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beauty-and-passion · 3 months

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Lore Olympus: a golden mine of bad writing

As I said, one post wasn’t enough.

There is still a lot to say about this webcomic and in this post I would like to talk about how Zeus, Apollo and Kronos have been treated. Here I will focus on the first two acts only, because the third act is not over, as well as the story. And yes, that means I will write another post when this whole thing is over.

I wanted to focus on these three gods in particular because are treated in a way that baffles me and makes me question what did they ever do to Mrs. Smythe. Tell me, Rachel: was it something personal? Did they do something to your family? What happened?

But maybe you don’t understand my point, especially if you haven’t read the Greek myths at all and you think that these three are just “Unfaithful Guy”, “Rapist” and “Evil Villain Har Har Who Also Wants To Rape”. Seriously, what’s with this weird obsession with raping everyone and with sex? Did Mrs. Smythe ever see anything else in myths, besides sex?

So please, allow me to explain why their characterizations are wrong and boring - and no, not just from a mythological point of view.

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Zeus: the walking clichè

Making Zeus an asshole is understandable, even if utterly boring and clichè. Oh wow, he's an unfaithful husband and he's vain. Very original. Groundbreaking, I'd say. I’ve never read about him being unfaithful to his wife, not even once in all the 200 million retellings made during the history of mankind.

It's a shame because Zeus is much more than that. He's a mighty ruler with a strong sense of justice: in several myths, he punished the assholes for their wrongdoings. He's very clever and strong. He's also associated with xenia, the custom of offering protection to strangers, which means Zeus is also a protector of foreigners.

I mean, this information alone offers so many new perspectives about him! Just imagine if, instead of hanging around and doing nothing useful aside from being everyone’s favorite punching bag, Zeus fought against every corrupt system of the mortal realm, in order to protect the foreigners and the innocents. It would’ve been so cool to see a different side of him, instead of the same thing over and over again!

But nope, Zeus = unfaithful husband only. Let’s ignore all the other aspects of him, to focus on the one everyone focuses on. Let’s make him the umpteenth version of the same guy, instead of offering a new vision. This will surely make the story worth everyone’s time!

Rachel, this could’ve worked if I was 12 and had never read a retelling in my entire life. But since I’m more than twice that age, seeing Zeus as an unfaithful husband again doesn’t get my interest. And I’m sure this doesn’t only apply to me, but to everyone who already saw at least two retellings of him. Isn’t this story supposed to be new and original? Then why are we still picking from the same old clichè visions of these gods? Where is the writer’s personality and ability?

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Apollo: king of wasted potentials

I am absolutely, completely, 100% baffled at how Apollo has been treated in this story.

It's insulting to see the most beloved Greek god treated as a bidimensional piece of shit. Not only because he doesn't make any sense in the story (why is he here in the first place? Did Persephone and Apollo even interact in any myth?), but also because there are so many different possibilities for him, that seeing him being this is the biggest waste of potential I’ve ever seen.

A brief recap of who Apollo really is: Apollo is the embodiment of the sun. He is the god of arts and crafts. He's the most beautiful god, he embodies the concept of perfect Greek beauty. And he is associated with a lot of cool stuff, like medicine, truth and oracles. Also, like most of the other Greek gods, Apollo had many male and female lovers.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that, with all of this, your first idea about him is "yeah, let's make him a stupid rapist, so stupid to not realize that hey, maybe forcing a girl to sleep with you will not make her fall in love with you". Oh and let's not forget he randomly decided he wanted Zeus' throne just after the fertility plot point had been introduced Because Yes. And he’s running for president of Whatever-Land Because Yes. Also, he’s currently involved again in another evil plot Because… yeah, you got it.

It’s just so frustrating to see him being the biggest loser of all time, considering how much cooler he could’ve been. Just think about it: we could've had a bisexual musician, who does concerts with his band (the Muses) and has a shit ton of lovers. We could’ve had a heartbroken doctor, who does his best to save everyone because he has not been able to save his own son from death (Asclepius). We could've had a mysterious advisor who can see the future because of his foresight powers.

What did we get instead? A fucking rapist.

Apollo is nothing but wasted potential. He’s an insult to himself, the story, common sense, and the Greek culture. Of all the incredible things he could've been, he became the most insulting of them all. I really cannot bear to see this fucking idiot and his punching-bag face, pretending to be Apollo. He’s not Apollo.

But if there is a guy I can see less than him, then let me introduce you to…

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Kronos: Supreme Master of Wasted Potential

First of all: why is Kronos here? Why does this love story need Persephone to defeat a big bad guy? Just to show how cool and badass she is? Considering that their fight was a joke, it didn't work very well.

But okay, let's say we need a villain Because Yes. Kronos is still a huge waste of potential, probably the biggest waste of potential of the whole series until now. He could’ve been an interesting, multifaceted character, but he became a cartoonish supervillain har-har I want power.

Sigh.

But let’s take a step back and talk about the real, mythological Kronos. His story starts with his parents, Uranus and Gaia. The two had a lot of sons, including Titans (like Kronos) and Hecatonchires (monsters with fifty heads and one hundred arms). Disgusted by their monstrous nature or maybe just out of fear of being overthrown, Uranus chained his sons away into Gaia's womb (aka the Tartarus) so that they could never come out again.

Gaia suffered from this decision, so she devised a plan: she made a stone sickle, gathered her sons and tried to persuade them to castrate Uranus.

All of her sons were afraid of Uranus, Kronos was the only one brave enough to do it. And he was successful: he overthrew his father and became the new ruler of the universe, along with his wife/sister Rhea.

However, after becoming king, he didn't free all of his brothers as his mother wanted, but locked Hecatonchires and Cyclopes away once again. And so, Gaia told him that, one day, he would meet his father’s same fate and be overthrown by one of his own children.

Scared by these words, Kronos devised a plan: every time he had a new child, he took the baby from Rhea and swallowed them. Rhea was desperate and, in order to save her last son Zeus, she sought Gaia's help.

So Rhea gave birth to Zeus in a secret place, then handed Kronos a stone wrapped in clothes: he swallowed it, thinking that it was his son. This way, Zeus managed to escape the same fate as his siblings and was raised in secret, away from his father, until he was old enough to come back and fulfill his destiny.

And now, you may think Zeus overthrew his father with a sword and killed him and nah nah nah, myths are not that stupid and predictable. Zeus didn’t use violence to overthrow his father, but intelligence. He disguised himself to reach Kronos' court and, at the right time, he gave him a drink. That drink was an emetic (given by Gaia), that forced Kronos to throw up everything he swallowed, in reverse order: first the stone he thought was his last son, then Zeus' brothers and sisters.

After freeing his siblings, Zeus did what his father would've never done: he released the Hecatoncheires and the Cyclops to help him in the following battle against Kronos and the other Titans, a battle known as Titanomachy.

The war ended with the victory of the Olympians (i.e. Zeus and his siblings). Many Titans were confined in Tartarus, under the Hecatonchires' control, others were not imprisoned and kept appearing in other myths.

And Kronos? His fate differs depending on the myths. In some versions, he was imprisoned in Tartarus. But according to other, more interesting versions, Zeus forgave him after years, freed him and Kronos became king of the Elysian Fields: the famous earthly paradise reserved for the greatest Greek heroes.

Now. Just look at all of this beautiful, beautiful potential.

We have Gaia, a powerful goddess who overthrew two rulers of the universe, without moving a finger. A goddess strong and clever, but also a mother who wanted all of her children to be free - even the most hideous ones. She could’ve been a tragic figure, a master manipulator, or an evil schemer. Or all these things!

We have the Hecatonchires: fighters so powerful, to turn the tide of any battle. They could’ve been scary and intimidating, but also tragic monsters who just wanted to be accepted. They could’ve taught a beautiful lesson about the importance of accepting the ugly and giving everyone a chance to prove themselves.

Then we have Kronos. And Kronos had everything to be the greatest character.

Think about this concept: Kronos has always been afraid of Uranus, just like his brothers. He was just better at hiding his feelings. And that visceral fear is still inside him, it still haunts him after centuries, just like the memory of how he overthrew his father. And that fear takes the shape of paranoid thoughts about his father coming back to take the throne.

Kronos could’ve seen his father haunting him, but he could’ve also dissociated and seen himself as his father. In his altered state of mind, he could’ve been both the king and the one who overthrows him.

That could’ve made him a truly dangerous, unhinged character. A god who can’t see what’s real anymore, obsessed with the ghosts of his past. A god with nothing to lose and everything to gain. After all, if he kills his children again, the throne would be his once more. And, since he sees himself as himself and as his father at the same time, he would think that he is the "true king" coming back to take his throne.

That could’ve been awesome. Kronos could've been complex, desperate and multifaceted, a villain to pity and to be afraid of. A truly new, interesting version to know and love.

And do you have any idea how incredible Zeus could’ve been in this version? We could see him facing Kronos again, still as strong and determined as when he was young. And while everyone would expect him to kill Kronos, he would use his intelligence once again. He would prove to Kronos (and to everyone else) how intelligence is always superior to violence and how he's a good leader, despite his thousands of flaws.

Also, we could've seen Zeus talking to the defeated Kronos and making him the ruler of the Elysian Fields. We could've had a meaningful ending, in which Zeus understands Kronos' fears and shares his own.

I would’ve adored this, because according to the myth, Zeus was also supposed to be overthrown by a son! Hence why he swallowed Metis (his first wife) while she was pregnant.

The myth never truly clarifies who this supposed "son" is, but according to the different versions, Metis was pregnant not with a son, but with a daughter. A daughter who, one day, would be born, full grown, from Zeus' head. A daughter who would become Zeus' favorite child: Athena.

Honestly? I ADORE the idea that there was never a son to overthrow Zeus, but a daughter. And she would not overthrow his father by violence like her grandfather or by intelligence like her father, but by love. Athena doesn't need to take the throne from her father physically, she doesn't even need to sit on that throne: not when her father loves her more than anything else.

And I love the idea that Zeus is aware of that. He knows his daughter is his weakness. He knows that, if she asks, he will willingly give her that throne, because he loves her too much. And I would've loved to see him sharing these thoughts with the defeated Kronos. It could've been a beautiful moment, to see Zeus talking with the fatherly figure he always missed from his life. It could've led to a beautiful, meaningful ending for a dramatic story.

But can you see the problem here? This concept works for a story about Zeus, not about Hades and Persephone! These two have nothing to do with Kronos! Heck, even Rachel Smythe knows it, considering she had to pull a stupid plot point out of thin air, to explain why Kronos would give a damn about Persephone!

In case you were wondering: yes, the fertility-magical-power-battery-thing is bullshit. Gods don’t need a magical battery to be powerful. And no, fertility goddesses are not rare either: Aphrodite, Demeter, Hera, even Artemis are just a few of the fertility goddesses in Greek mythology. Kronos could’ve picked his favorite from a large pool, instead of becoming an absolute creep with Persephone in the stupidest fight of all time.

And speaking of that, two words on the supposed “fight”. First of all, apologies to all fights for being associated with this thing, because this was anything but a fight: it was a cartoonish conversation accompanied by the umpteenth sexualization of Persephone, who first appeared fully naked, then with a dress so stupid to defy the laws of physics and perspective.

And if you don’t believe me, please see it by yourself: this is how the dress was supposed to be, according to episode 75

This is how it ended up. Apparently, the Fates didn’t predict how huge Persephone’s boobs would be and the neckline didn’t grow accordingly: I feared to see one of them slipping out from it anytime during the “fight”

Also, please appreciate how Persephone is turned to the side, but the dress’ stupidly huge neckline is shown from the front, otherwise we would’ve seen her full naked boobs.

And that stupid neckline kept bothering me throughout the whole “fight”, because it kept changing size. Check the episodes and see it by yourself: sometimes it’s smaller, other times it’s wider and it keeps moving in impossible ways. It drove me insane.

But since we’re talking about drawings, please allow me a very brief parenthesis about them too.

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The drawings are a joke

I am not an artist. I can barely draw a straight line by hand. But I studied art history, perspective, proportions and colors, so I’m not completely clueless.

But you don’t need to be clueless, to notice how bad the drawings became. If you have two eyes and saw another human being in your life before, then you can notice by yourself how bad they are.

It’s not a secret that Lore Olympus’ art style changed over time. In the beginning, this comic was characterized by a lot of straight lines and geometric shapes, alternating and mixing with gentle curves. There were blur effects, colored outlines, a lot of details that gave an overall dreamy, ethereal vibe to every chapter (like the soft glow that accompanied the gods).

But as the story progressed, these elements disappeared. The geometric shapes gave way to an overall “softness” and roundness. The dreamy vibes and blur effects were replaced by sharper, clearer drawings. A distinct black outline now marks every character.

And speaking of characters, they were the ones who changed more. Lore Olympus always had funny, silly faces but the characters were also able to be serious and look natural. Now all we have are grotesque faces: the characters are a collection of caricatures and no one has a normal expression anymore. Check by yourself, by confronting a random episode of the third act with the first one: they’re two different worlds.

The disproportions were common too, since episode one. But at least they were somehow plausible, while now they’re completely absurd. It’s as if Mrs Smythe completely forgot what a human being looks like.

And this is pretty evident in how all characters became a rough draft of the two protagonists: all women got Persephone’s face, all men become buff and huge, with wide-ass shoulders and teeny tiny heads. This is particularly obvious at the end of season 2 / start of season 3, when we see some of the funniest images ever, like Hades with a tiny head and shoulders as wide as the entire USA

Or this hilariously bad image of Zeus with clown shoes and a head as big as his deformed hand.

No excuse can justify these drawings: no one is running after Mrs Smythe, nor forcing her to draw, and people are paying her real money to work on this webcomic. The least she can do is draw something that doesn’t look like a bad distortion of a human being.

Unless this isn’t her drawing, but her staff’s work. In that case, they are still paid to do their job, right? Or do they think this story is a joke and decide to show how much of a joke it is, by turning everyone into a grotesque caricature?

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In conclusion

Lore Olympus is hilarious because of how bad the writing is. It’s a manual example of how not to write a climax for your story. It’s a perfect demonstration of how you can still fail, even with great characters with endless possibilities. It’s a list of all the mistakes you can make as an artist.

If you’re a writer or an artist in general, please check Lore Olympus and study it. Here you will find everything you should never do and all the mistakes you should never make.

As a writer myself, I appreciate Lore Olympus, because I need works that teach me what I shouldn’t do. Good teachers are useful, but bad ones are even more useful, because it’s thanks to them that I can learn and grow and make better stories. Lore Olympus might be a failure from an artistic and writing point of view, but it might also serve as a foundation, from which other people can develop better ideas.

Actually, it already did it! Do you want to read a better story, rose from the disappointing ashes of Lore Olympus? Then check Lore Rekindled and @genericpuff: you will find their work here on Tumblr. They planned everything ahead and it’s pretty clear by reading it. The characters make more sense, the events have a more logical explanation. And the art style is much, much better than the last Lore Olympus.

We will meet again for the third and (for now) final post about this series, a much-needed post about the protagonists of this story: Hades, Persephone and Demeter.

<- Previous post - Next post ->

(How about a coffee? ☕)

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#lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo criticism #lo critical #anti lo #greek gods #greek myth #zeus #apollo #kronos #lo zeus #lo apollo #lo kronos

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bg-brainrot · 3 months

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Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 4: After Encountering Araj

Chapter 4: After Encountering Araj

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 2, Canon-typical violence, cw: Astarion's past, Feelings Realization

WC: 3k words, 4/18 chapters

Summary: Set in Act 2 after infiltrating Moonrise and meeting Araj, a retelling of the Act 2 romance with some extra dialogue. The canon-hug!

Ao3 | [Hug3][Hug5] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

Your team is tired. It’s been several days of travel through the Cursed Shadowlands, and you, for one, can’t wait for this damned curse to be lifted. You’ve done all you can with Halsin’s help, all that’s left is to defeat Ketheric. The man’s demise can’t come swiftly enough, especially after you had the absolute honor of meeting him yesterday.

Infiltrating Moonrise Towers was surprisingly easy for your group. You simply said you belonged there and everyone seemed to trust you, all because of the worm that takes residence in your skull. It probably helped that it was a short visit: free some prisoners, meet Ketheric, scope out the location, run into a slew of its inhabitants and leave as soon as you get the information you need.

There were a few moments of awkwardness in your adventure. You told off a disgusting drow woman who made Astarion uncomfortable, a cat insulted you and your hunting, and a half-orc was utterly entranced by your lust filled thoughts of Astarion. And that was all in the span of a few hours.

It’s no wonder that today’s been a bit calmer for you all. Your team is on the outskirts of the towers, searching the remains of its previously bustling settlement. However, being out of the lion’s den doesn’t mean you feel any less tense today.

Astarion has been oddly distant since you left Moonrise yesterday. You can’t help but worry for him, knowing that he takes to sulking alone at times. Perhaps the tower was a reminder of bad memories? Maybe the reality of your situation was just too much right now.

Either way, you know that it’s you that needs to get to the bottom of it, as he keeps sneaking glances your way. Each time you catch him looking, his gaze darts away and his brow furrows as he stares at the ground. It might be comical if it didn’t instill a deep concern in you.

Honestly, you’d ask him what was wrong here and now if it weren’t for your companions, Shadowheart and Karlach. They have certainly noticed something amiss, Astarion is almost never without a quick quip, but they decide not to acknowledge it. Despite his occasional bravado, he’s a private person, and it wouldn’t do to corner him as a group.

And so, the rest of your day is spent in an awkward silence, somehow amplified by the eerie stillness surrounding you. You decide to search through the Mason’s Guild, hoping for a palette cleanser to help your team feel like themselves again. For one particular teammate to feel like himself again.

As you had hoped, it’s not difficult work. At one point Karlach even whines to you, “Soldier, I’m bored. Aren’t we going to see some action today?”

She, of course, gets her wish moments later when your group faces off against some Shadow Vestiges.

“Please be more careful next time,” Shadowheart chides, healing a wound on Karlach’s arm after the battle. “The Lady of Sorrows can only do so much when you charge into a group like that.”

The tiefling laughs at that and flexes her arm a bit. “How else am I going to impress our leader?” She shoots you a wink and a smile, which you deftly deflect with a thumbs up.

“Consider me impressed, Karlach,” you call into the wide room with an echo. “I’m swooning!”

She comments something in approval, but you don’t catch it as you see Astarion slinking off into the dark recesses of the Mason’s Guild. You excuse yourself, humor leaving your voice as you follow him into the shadows.

You think you hear Astarion muttering to himself, swearing, and you follow the sound to him. When you finally find him, the vampire just looks at you, eyes dark and face torn. It’s been too much for you to bear all day, and you can’t help but snap at him now, “Do you need to talk?”

“Later,” he says, through gritted teeth. His eyes close and he softens his expression, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

You relent for now, but it’s only a short while later that you decide to call it an early day. “For no reason,” you say to Karlach, when she asks why. “We’ve just had a rough couple of days.”

Shadowheart, catching the way your eyes trail Astarion, places a hand on Karlach’s shoulder. “You need to rest that wound of yours, alright?”

Karlach visibly slumps, but says, “Alright. Goddess’s orders or something, I guess.”

Finally leaving the land surrounding Moonrise in your dust, you head back to camp.

___

You head toward Astarion’s tent at the first opportunity. You’re resolved to get to the bottom of what might be bothering him. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than illithids or Cazador– in short, nothing that you can’t handle together. On the way, you try to convince yourself you would go to any lengths for all of your companions. Underneath it all, you know that you would go a bit further for this particular man. Leave it to me to link my happiness to the emotions of a vampire, you think to yourself, annoyed.

You shake the scowl off your face before turning the corner to Astarion’s tent. Once you approach, you find that he’s already standing there, waiting for you expectantly.

“I want to thank you,” he says, starting off the conversation once you’re close enough. He seems oddly unsure, either of how to approach the subject or of the very words coming out of his mouth.

Raising a single eyebrow at him, your worry takes a secondary role to the confusion his words cause. “You’re welcome?” you question, not sure what prompted such a sentence from his lips.

“For what you said, while I was in front of that vile drow,” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His voice begins heating up as he continues, “I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered.”

You take a step towards him, your heart reacting to the pain in his words, to the anger on his face. Despite getting closer over the past several weeks, you still feel scared to console him, afraid he’ll take off like a skittish cat. You decide that this is enough for now, saying just his name, “Astarion…”

He doesn’t startle, only continues a bit calmer, “You could have asked me to do the same– to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t.” He sounds in awe at the very idea, his red eyes wide. “And I’m grateful.”

Understanding fully dawns on you now, as you see the situation from his perspective. Leveling a serious look at him, you say earnestly, “I didn't want you to do something you don’t want to do. Actually, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You hope that your words ring as fiercely as you feel them.

“It’s a novel concept I admit. And a… a little intimidating.” His eyes are big, fear at war with a warmth at your words. “It would have been so easy to bite her. To just go along with what I was being told to do.” Astarion continues flippantly now, waving a hand as he speaks, “A moment of disgust to force myself through. And then I could have carried on, just like before.”

A transaction. He says it so casually, masking the pain that you know he feels. But you’re still a person, a person who might have been just another checkmark on his to-do list, another thing to force himself through. Despite yourself, you’re hurt. Afraid of the answer, but needing it all the same, you ask, “So why sleep with me? Did you think you’d get something from it?”

“Of course, I needed protection,” he laughs, and you can feel your heart pounding painfully against your chest in response. He remains casual though, so you temper your hurt, waiting for his full answer. “People don’t trust vampires– perhaps understandably– so I needed to get someone on my side. And seducing you was easy, frankly.”

You look at him skeptically, recalling that it was not, in fact, easy. “Huh, okay. We might be remembering that a bit differently.” But you motion for him to continue– as far as ‘thank yous’ go, this one has been distinctly gut-wrenching, and you hope that he’s reaching a point.

“So imagine how stupid I felt…” he says, eyes darting away nervously. Cautiously, Astarion returns his eyes to you– his face is open, bearing an expression more vulnerable than any you’ve seen from him. “When I started to genuinely feel something for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, brain processing what he’s just said far too sluggishly. What, you think to yourself, did he say?

Reading the shock on your face, he continues to clarify, “Trust me, I was not happy about it. You were a complication I didn’t see coming. And yet…” His voice trails off, looking at you as if daring himself to be hopeful.

You already know your answer, what your heart feels. You’ve known for quite some time, resisting it all the while, thinking he could never feel the same way. But here you are now, his wide eyes and exposed heart waiting for you to say something– anything. Wracking your brain, you think of the skittish cat again. You don’t want to scare him or seem disingenuous, not now. You settle on a simple, achingly honest, “I care about you.”

“Really?” he asks, breathless in the moment, eyes wide in anticipation. The anxious optimism is written plainly on his face and your body moves, almost on instinct.

You’ve been so afraid to be tender before, worrying that he may not feel the same way or even believe you. Now though, you know this is the best way to show how you truly feel. To make him realize that you don’t see him as a body to take pleasure in or as someone who serves as a means to an end.

You close the distance between you, wrapping him in a full-body hug.

He seems surprised at the sudden contact. Unlike any embrace you’ve had before, it’s not sexual, it’s not tentative. It’s simply full of all of the love you can muster.

After a second’s hesitation, you can feel him move to hug you back, his hands come to rest on your back softly. You squeeze him to yourself a bit tighter in response, and he leans into you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. You stand like that for a long moment, the camp around you long forgotten, the world, your problems, they might as well be in another plane of existence. The feel of his arms around you, the tickle of his hair on your skin, the warmth you’re sharing – it feels so utterly intimate. More than anything else you’ve done together thus far.

When the time comes, you’re reluctant to let go. You know it has to be you to break it though. With the way he’s leaning into you, the pressure of his body pressing into yours, Astarion may never break this hug. But let go you do, standing back a step to take in the man before you.

Awe colors his pale face, as if he can’t believe that this is really happening. He takes a second to blink at you before saying, “You… you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You chuckle in response, shooting him a wry smile, “I think my feelings may only be a surprise to you, Astarion.” You have a sneaking suspicion that at least a few members of your merry crew are exchanging knowing looks at each other right now, watching this drama unfold from the comfort of their tents.

“Honestly,” he gives a shaky laugh. “I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.”

He slowly holds out his hand to you, a cautious invitation. It’s a simple gesture, but you’re not certain you’ve ever just… held his hand before. It almost makes you timid. You push down the butterflies and place your hand in his, looking up to find his ruby eyes intensely focused on you. The affection in his eyes wash away all of your nerves, and the smile that comes to your face is beaming.

Reading your expression, Astarion gets a step closer. He places his second hand atop yours and says, “But I know that this... this is nice.”

Then he just smiles at you, eyes crinkling in pure, unfiltered joy, and it reaches to your core. It feels like sunshine after a storm, a light in the murky depths of the Shadowlands. You think you could live off of his smile alone.

Again, you stand together for a moment, drinking in the feelings that have surfaced, basking in this nervous little bliss you’ve built together. By the time you break apart, your hand has warmed his cool skin and you can hear the sounds of your companions continuing camp life around you.

You give an awkward cough, not sure what to do next. The relationship between you has changed, but you’re not sure how yet, or how you should approach it. Nothing your usual wit can’t handle, you suppose. “And here I was, worried all day that some new, undying horror was plaguing you.”

“Gods above, I wish,” he says dramatically. “But no, it was the far more difficult matter of my stupid heart versus my beautiful, pragmatic brain.”

“I’m sad I didn’t get to witness the epic battle,” you give him a disappointed face that does nothing at all to mask the glee you feel at imagining his thoughts firmly revolving around you all day.

Astarion gives you a reluctant smirk before saying, “You missed a bloodbath. Last night, I stared at the roof of my tent, just considering all of the ways you may reject me. Like some kind of pining prepubescent boy.” His face winces at the image. “I thought I may never feel like myself again.”

While amusing, you’re surprised he thought you would ever reject him. “I always thought you were the perceptive one. Did you really not notice how I felt?”

He gives a light laugh at your incredulity. “My love,” your heart thrills at the new pet name. “I make hearts race regularly– whether from fear or lust, who am I to say?” Astarion gives you a sidelong look before continuing in a slightly sullen tone, “Besides, you’ve always seemed incredibly close to Karlach, I didn’t want to presume.”

“Ah, yes. She tried,” you look a bit abashed, thinking back to the night she asked you for something more. “But… I wasn’t sure what we had. And I didn’t want to ruin it, no matter what it was.”

“Seems I should have trusted your good taste.” He looks proud, but somehow you’re certain that it’s not just pride in himself. “You are incredible.”

You feel almost overwhelmed at his praise. If this is what being in a relationship with him is like, you’re not certain your heart will be able to handle it. While you consider that thought, the question of your relationship begins burning a hole in you. “So,” you drawl, not certain how to broach the subject. You’re still incredibly careful about scaring him off, especially when the connection you’ve built is such a new, delicate thing. “What exactly are… we?” You add on, “To you?” as a safeguard. He needs to know that he can formulate his own opinion and you won’t push the matter.

He produces an anxious little sigh, “I don’t know. But isn’t it nice, not to know?”

The look you give him is likely more nervous than you intend. “I suppose.”

“Ugh, you’re not a victim, not a target, not just one night it’s better to forget. But then… whatever in the world could you be?” Astarion looks confused, desperate for an answer he’s not ready for.

You know it’s not your place to give it to him. And, to be honest, even this admission makes your heart feel full, comforted. “That’s okay,” you respond. “Let’s take our time, figure it out together?”

“I’d like that.” His small smile is genuine and his hand is back on yours, squeezing gently.

An involuntary yawn escapes you, the day’s exertions catching up to you as the conversation winds down. “Oh, sorry,” you cover your mouth with your free hand. “I didn’t mean to–”

“No need to worry, darling.” He lifts the hand he’s holding to his lips and leaves a cool, gentle kiss before continuing, “It’s late. Our feelings will still be there in the morning.” He shoots you an anxious glance before continuing, “I hope.”

You grin at him, all too happy to reassure him. This is new to you both, but especially to a vampire who hasn’t known a gentle embrace in centuries. “I’m afraid you can’t be rid of me that easily. I’m not a wound that can heal up overnight, you know.”

Astarion leans into you to say, “If you were, I think I’d simply never sleep again.”

Your heart races at his weird little compliment. And, while your body begs you for the sweet relief of sleep, your head and heart scream at you to stay awake, to while away the rest of the night next to him and relish in whatever it is that’s blossoming here.

He can sense your hesitation to leave and tugs on your hand gently. “I’m probably doing this all backwards, but would you like to sleep with me? Not,” he stresses quickly, “sex. Just… resting together, perhaps?”

“Yes, please,” you say, earnestly. “I’d love to know what was so fascinating about the ceiling of your tent.”

Your new paramour shoots you an annoyed look, but continues to pull you after him, leading you to his bedroll. His hand is warm from your touch and you silently swear to keep it that way.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion masterlist #hugs for a vampire #hfav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion

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sinfulsalutations · 9 months

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Uuuuh yeah hi. Could I get a number 10 with a side of Wolffe please?

Huge congratulations on such a big milestone! You’re such a talented writer and you deserve every follower and many more 💜 (from @wings-and-beskar 💜)

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ!! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ɢᴀʀʙᴀɢᴇ

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ "ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴍᴜᴄʜ" "ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ"

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 547

Despite Wolffe possessing the ability to express his emotions (you’ve bore witness whenever he’s forced to work alongside those he sees as incompetent), he remains stoic and subdued off of a battlefield.

You end up doing most of the talking when you’re together, rambling on about whatever shenanigan one of your patients got into today. Yesterday, it was Boost not paying attention to the space in front of him and bonking his head on a metal beam. Today, it’s Warthog twisting his ankle in the wrong direction.

“I swear, you’d think he wasn’t professionally trained and groomed for war like the rest of his brothers,” You kid playfully, striding to and fro each corner of your room as you clean up for the night. Wolffe sits there, cleaning his chest armor placed over his lap and watching you blather on. “Poor guy kept falling in and out of sleep, and every time he woke up he thought I was someone named ‘Palma’... It was strange.”

You laugh as you finish your sentence, shaking your head and closing the drawer, turning to see Wolffe’s soft expression. It really is strange, how he just… keeps so quiet in your company, perfectly content with just watching your beamy looks while you animatedly retell stories.

Tragically, you have little filter and say exactly that.

“You don’t talk much.”

Wolffe blinks, though he doesn’t seem to be very surprised at the revelation. He knows, you realize, as he looks down at his armor and continues scrubbing nonchalantly.

He responds after a long moment of letting you stare dumbfounded.

“I just really like listening to you, that’s all.”

A warmth rapidly spreads from your chest to your cheeks; you’re suddenly embarrassed, though oddly touched at the words. You’re not used to people actually enjoying your nonsense tangents, and to hear it from someone like Wolffe is something new entirely. You clear your throat and look away, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, I’m glad to keep you entertained,” you reply as casually as possible. “Though…” You shift in his direction. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one doing the talking. I want to know more about you too.”

Wolffe looks up at you, his amber and white eyes meeting yours, and a jolt of electricity shoots through you. There’s something so intense about his gaze, and despite being just one copy of millions, you’ve never seen eyes quite like his.

“I’m not very interesting,” He tells you, a little too neutral for your liking. “Just a soldier doing his duty.”

You scoff, tilting your head away before meeting his gaze again with an unbelieving glint in your eye.

“Trust me, I’ve worked with so many of you,” You explain, slowly turning away as you begin having trouble staring at him for so long. “All of you are different and unique in your own ways. You too. I’m sure there’s something special to love.”

The words spill out before you can contain them, but it’s hard to stay hung up on it when you’re usually so vocal. You turn back just to catch a glimpse of a lovely, barely-there grin on his stern face.

“Would you like to have dinner with me, Doc?” Wolffe then asks.

Your smile is piercing.

“I would, Commander.”

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @star-burned @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep

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thecrystalquill · 3 months

Text

A/N: Welcome to Chapter Thirteen! Thank you for waiting; I wanted to do it before Christmas, but you know how busy December is. Also find me on AO3: The_Crystal_Quill !

Also I'm so glad to finally give Rahim some appreciation <3

Please don't forget to leave a like!!!

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Thirteen ~ One Step Closer

Dear (Y/N),

It’s about time that you wrote me a letter that I didn’t have to share, and I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me, but I do enjoy having secrets to keep. I won’t tell anyone; I highly doubt they would be of any help anyway.

First of all, stop looking in the damned library, the answers to your Message aren’t in a book. I suggest you figure out where to go. This Spirit, whoever they are, obviously has something for you to find. They must have been to Hogwarts, or there would have been no point in Contacting you now. It must be there.

I would like to be involved in this, obviously you’re getting nowhere on your own, the only obstacle in my way is the fact that Hogwarts is so far. you should stay at Hogwarts to do some investigating. I will help.

I’ll start to set the seed in Mother and Father’s heads about what it would be like to see your school, I know there is a village near Hogwarts, find out the name for me. Then you can write home and tell them that you want to spend the holidays at Hogwarts – I’ll convince them to travel to see you there, it should be easy to get them to believe it was their idea.

In the mean time, you just look for some clues. I’m sure you can find something to do until I get there.

~ Wednesday

Emotionless, mildly condescending, and straight to the point, just like her sister. It was clear to (Y/N) that Wednesday was rather excited about this enigma; it had only taken a couple of days for her to reply, and she’d obviously put a plan together rather quickly in her eager state.

She really must be bored without (Y/N) there. It was a nice thought, in a way.

(Y/N) didn’t really want to spend the winter holidays at Hogwarts; she’d actually been rather looking forward to sleeping in her own bed and decorating the family tree, standing for another annual portrait and bickering while Lurch painted their every expression, and not to mention the flaming Christmas Pudding that only Grandmama knew how to make. But it seemed that some things were more important – (Y/N) was starting to despise this Spirit for interrupting her life; she was supposed to have a very normal year of magic and studying.

There were no practical lessons so close to the holidays, and most of her classes consisted of reviewing the work they had completed during their first term before it came to an end. For the last thirty-six minutes, she had been writing an essay about Rowena Ravenclaw and her life before and after the creation of Hogwarts, while Professor Binns lectured about how next term they would be looking into the other schools of magic around the world. It was a shame, (Y/N) thought, that Binns had a talent for making a subject so interesting sound so incredibly boring. It seemed the most exciting thing to ever happen to him was his death, and even then his retelling of the event was as dull and lifeless as the corpse which he left behind.

“…Now, Beaubatons, the French academy, that is – you may read it and think it is pronounced ‘beau’ as in ‘beautiful’, but is actually pronounced ‘boar’ like the wild pig, now that I think on it, it’s much like Hogwarts being named from the mole of a hog – anyhow, Beaubatons is in the Pyrenees, and takes students predominantly from, France and Spain, so I suppose they must also have language classes there too. Actually, quite a lot of them seem to speak a few languages, very talented students, they are, so I suppose they must offer language classes. So anyway, as I was saying, Beaubatons school is cloaked under a spell, much like the one that hides the Hogwarts grounds from muggles, but where here they simply get dazed and confused and return themselves away from the area, them being in the Pyrenees means a lot of muggles tend to get themselves lost off the edge of rocks and cliffs and the like, and as unfortunate as that is, it means that the whole area is highly advised against, as far as the muggles are concerned, so in the end it turns out to be not so bad. Sure, there’s a few injuries and the odd death every now and then, but it does a fine job at keeping the muggles away. So, as I was saying…” Sweet Hades take my soul to the depths of Styx already, (Y/N) thought. If he carried on any longer she may just pull her ears off, and her peers seemed to suffer similarly. Listening to Binns’ unique way of speaking was somehow the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry; his tone was slow and monotonous as if he were bored of it himself, and he drawled through each sentence like a snail, droning on and on, digression after digression, to the point where it’s hard to even hear what exactly he’s talking about over the constant sound. And don’t even get started on what it was like to get trapped in a conversation with him – there was no escaping the relentless torture of word after word for what felt like hours, and there was no helping his victims chained in place by the requirement to be polite to your elders.

Sharing her desk was Saoirse, of course, but (Y/N) had noticed she’d fallen asleep some time ago – Binns had quite the power for doing that. Now would be the perfect time for some earphones, yet another con to muggle technology not working at Hogwarts; she’d once wanted to ask why that was, but she dreaded how long the answer would take.

‘Rowena Ravenclaw then decided that her house would be one for students who valued wisdom and knowledge above all else, and created an environment which would nurture their minds and mould her students into some of the brightest witches and wizards at Hogwarts.’ (Y/N) wrote, hoping to finish her essay before the class ended so she wouldn’t have it for homework. Only ten minutes left until the bell would sound and release them from their torture.

When there was only four minutes left, (Y/N) nudged Saoirse with her elbow, waking her almost immediately; they had learned that it was best to leave as soon as the bell rang, rather than risk being caught up in a conversation with the professor, it was a mad-dash to leave.

As she rolled up her essay and put her quill away, (Y/N) thought about what she was going to write in her letter home. Wednesday must have already set the seed of seeing Hogwarts, as she’d put it, so now she needed to request that she stay. Only, she was finding it a little tricky to think up a reason for the strange request; in almost every letter (Y/N) had mentioned how she couldn’t wait to return home, what could possibly make her want to stay?

She needed a lie, and a good one at that.

When the bell finally dismissed them, the girls grabbed their bags and cloaks and exited the classroom. As December had rolled around, the snow was starting to fall each night, leaving a light layer on the grounds, and the hallways were becoming even more chilled than before. It was the perfect amount of cold for (Y/N); her breath fogged slightly in front of her, and she could wear comfortable layers, and feel like she was taking a lovely trip through the morgue.

The hallways gradually warmed up as they got closer to the Great Hall, their ever-burning fires seemed to heat the whole room, and the toasty warmth was trapped between the walls. Magic, probably, stopped the heat from escaping through the brickwork.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat and thought of what to write in her letter while Saoirse started a conversation about her latest obsession: vampires. “Wait, you really didn’t know they were real?” (Y/N) asked as she fiddled with the golden goblet in front of her. She sometimes forgot that Saoirse was raised by very ordinary muggles.

“I thought they were just a myth, like an old folk-tale, y’know?” Answered Saoirse with a wave of her arm, she gestured often when she spoke, (Y/N) noticed. “Like Dracula.”

“Dracula was real too.” She replied, amused at the way Saoirse dropped her hands on the table and gawked.

“What?” She said, moving her hair out of her face to pay proper attention to her friend. “Explain, now.”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) succumbed to the distraction. “Count Dracula was from Romania, he came to Whitby by ferry, and he lived and died there. The story got a bit exaggerated through time, but he was very real. In fact, you can learn all about him in my town.” She was ready to leave it there as she saw her other roommates enter the room and look for them, but she thought one last piece of information would be worth sharing. “Local legend says he’s buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the town, but he’s actually buried in the Addams Cemetery next to my Great-Great-Uncle Wolfgang Addams.”

“WHAT?”

Dear Mother and Father,

I have so been looking forward to returning home for the holidays, as you know. But there has been an unfortunate incident involving a friend of mine and a carnivorous plant in one of the herbology greenhouses. She is having to spend the holidays in the hospital wing and can’t go home. I know you have been excited for me to be back home, but I may have already agreed to stay here so my friend wouldn’t be alone. Is that alright? I feel terrible about it all, but I’ve heard Christmas at Hogwarts is something to be awed. Perhaps you could send my gifts here? Or we can save them for the next holidays? It’s such a shame you can’t come here.

I have been practising my sword skills in the Forbidden Forest, luckily the cold weather means that few people are outside to see me. Sadly, I haven’t seen any terrible creatures in the forest, no ghouls or monsters, but there’s still time.

My lessons have been going well; my potions are near perfect, herbology has been coming naturally to me, and I only fell off of my broom once. Though, Transformation is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

The Hogwarts Express leaves from Hogsmeade Station early on Saturday morning next week, and I’ve agreed to accompany Saoirse as she boards. I look forward to hearing back from you.

~ (Y/N)

It wasn’t a perfect lie, but it would do. (Y/N) was attaching the letter to Mortis’ long leg as he finished up the steak and kidney pie she brought him, hoping he wouldn’t get too cold during his long flight. She’d already sent a note to Wednesday, informing her of the name of the nearest town and any updates on her mystery. With luck, she could easily convince them to stay in Hogsmeade – it would be a shame to not see them all for the winter – perhaps (Y/N) could sneak Wednesday into school.

“Go on then, Mortis.” She said to the great bird, giving his strong back a pat. “Fly back home as quickly as you can, I’ll see you soon.” (Y/N) took a step back, and watched as the vulture gave her a farewell nod and spread out his massive wings, diving from the tall tower and catching the wind to take him south. She watched until the giant creature turned into a brown-ish blur and disappeared into the white horizon, hoping it didn’t snow on his journey.

The trail back to the castle was long and peaceful; dark fir and pine tree tops were dusted in white and the snow on the ground had set a foot deep already, crunching beneath her shiny black boots with each step. For a while, that was the only sound she heard, until she neared the castle grounds and saw that there were students dotted around – some were settled around the courtyard some were walking through the fields to the iced-over lake, and two identical red-heads were throwing snowballs either at their friends or at unfortunate bystanders.

(Y/N) tugged on her leather gloves and tightened the emerald scarf around her neck, feeling a chill breeze redirect her way. She was pondering returning to the library to once more search for a useful book in the Divination section; she had all but given up on that idea, there was no way she could search through so many on her own, but she’d hate to admit that Wednesday was right.

She was just ascending the salted stone steps that lead into the castle, when she felt a soft pat on her head, and cold water melting into her hair and run down her neck. (Y/N) froze, and the whole courtyard seemed to freeze with her. A curse was muttered from behind her, and she turned to face the culprit. Maybe a dozen people were in the open area, all staring wide-eyed between the black-clad Addams heir and the group of damp third-year boys at the centre of it all. Three of the boys took a step back, pointing at their red-head friends accusingly, who watched warily for her reaction. (Y/N) said nothing, waiting for them to go first.

They straightened themselves out, faces pale from the cold and shock, noses red, gloves wet, both covered in snow. They looked to each other briefly, seemingly deciding what to do. “It was him!” The one of the left exclaimed, pointing to his brother.

The second twin gasped and put his hands up in surrender, shooting his brother a horrified expression of betrayal. “It was an accident, I swear!” He defended, giving her what he hoped was a sincerely apologetic look, crossing his heart with his forefinger. “I was aiming for Lee!”

A boy on the right threw his hands up, mirroring the look of innocence his accuser displayed. “Don’t drag me into this, you’re just a crappy shot.”

“Oi!”

“Well you’re the one who hit her!”

It was clear a petty argument was about to break out, so (Y/N) turned to face them fully from the third step and crossed her arms, successfully regaining their focus. They expected her to yell, to scream, to throw insults and curses. But she didn’t – she already had their attention; she didn’t have to cause a scene to get what she wanted.

All eyes were on them as the boys looked between themselves and her nervously; the longer she stood silent, the more anxious they became, wondering what she might do. Nothing in her face or body language gave away any indication of what she was thinking. Lee elbowed the twin nearest to him, seeming to snap him into some sort of action. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise.” The guilty red-head said, pulling his knitted hat over his ears as he gave her another genuine expression.

There was a pause of complete silence, all lesser-noises absorbed by the blanketed snow, as everyone watched. Then, with only a single, small nod, (Y/N) turned and continued on her way, leaving them to their business.

Sometimes (Y/N) forgot about the reputation she’d somehow accumulated since her arrival, after all, she did very little to build it. Somehow, in simply being herself, people had made her (and her family) to be some sort of fantastical being of dark and mysterious origin. Saoirse often made her feel so normal, that she often forgot that, in the eyes of everyone else, she wasn’t. So it wasn’t too drastic of her to assume something as simple as a rogue snowball may have been thrown on purpose, she thought. But an apology was all she needed, and the boy was polite enough to give a sincere one. So perhaps not everyone outside of her inner circle was all that bad, even if they thought some truth was behind the rumours about her.

It was half-past eleven on a Saturday morning, exactly one week before the Winter holidays, which meant that the library would be full of people finishing up assignments and catching up on reading. As she entered the quiet hall, she was unsurprised to see most people wearing Ravenclaw jumpers. Making her way towards the back, (Y/N) passed a table piled high with books; curiously, she peered around a stack to see Hermione in a discussion with her two Gryffindor friends. “This is taking forever, I don’t know where else to look.”

“I know I’ve read his name somewhere.” Harry said, flicking through a copy of Great Wizards Of The Twentieth Century, before Ron nudged him in the arm and nodded to their observer. “Oh, um… hi…” He said, drawing back slightly, as if unsure of what to say. It was then that (Y/N) noticed how Harry didn’t seem to ever say her name – perhaps, (Y/N) considered, he simply hadn’t decided on if he should call her by her first name or her last.

“That’s quite a lot of books,” (Y/N) commented, busying herself with undoing her coat.

“Yeah well, we’ve been doing quite a lot of reading.” Said Ron with a slight edge of defence. (Y/N) couldn’t understand why, it seemed to her a silly thing to defend.

Normally, (Y/N) would have resigned the attempt at conversation. But given that these were Hermione’s friends, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to show a little effort – she thought it was very grown-up of her. “Anything interesting?”

The answers from each of them varied, but Hermione simply huffed at them and turned to her. “(Y/N), do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel?” She asked, ignoring Ron’s noise of protest.

(Y/N) hummed as she removed her scarf and hung it on her arm. “Can’t say I’ve heard of him. Why?”

“No reason.” Said Ron, closing his book and moving it aside, interrupting Hermione before she shared too much.

Hermione only sent him a glare and ignored his frown of disapproval. “We’ve looked everywhere but we just can’t seem to find anything on him. The only place we haven’t checked is the Restricted Section.”

“The Restricted Section?” (Y/N) repeated, wondering why a library would hide books rather than share them. “What’s in there?”

“Mostly books on restricted topics, advanced dark magic and the likes.” The intelligent girl explained, turning to look to the back of the library. “Unfortunately, you can’t go in without a consent form, and that’s never going to happen.”

“Well, can’t you just ask the librarian? Surely she’ll know something about this Flamel.” (Y/N) offered, though she was clearly intrigued.

Harry shook his head. “No way, she’ll tell on us for sure.” He said, but the moment he did his eyes widened and Ron made another frustrated groan.

(Y/N) raised a brow and felt her curiosity grow. “So it’s a secret, this Flamel stuff?” She guessed, and it seemed she hit the nail right on the head.

“Look, you can’t tell anyone.” Ron stressed, moving the stack of books from between them so she could see all of him properly. “It’s very important that no one finds out about any of it.”

(Y/N) nodded, she wasn’t one for spreading secrets. “Of course.” Seeing then that she had nothing more to offer, and not long before lunch, (Y/N) stepped away from the table to take her leave. “I’ll let you to it then, I’ll see you here in the week, Hermione.” She said, then gave a nod to the group and made her way to the Divination section.

She thought that went relatively well; at least this time they actually talked with her.

With her coat and scarf placed safely on a desk chair, (Y/N) chose a shelf to scour, and began her ascent up the ladders to have a look at the M’s. Perhaps today was a good day to go through Meteoromancy: Secrets in Storms. She did love the sweet lull of thunder.

The Great Hall was decorated beyond (Y/N)’s expectations; snow dusted trees standing twenty feet tall at the front of the room, snowflakes falling from the ceiling only to fade away halfway down, colourful ribbons and garlands hung on the walls, and everything smelt of cinnamon and pine.

It was all very light and bright and colourful… it only made her miss the smooth blacks and blood reds of their tree at home.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat picking at a bowl of fruit as everyone discussed the holidays; Saoirse was looking forward to returning to her home most of all, telling Millicent all about her dog and how much she’d missed him. (Y/N) wished she was going back to Whitby – the beachside town was so charming in the winter; there were rarely any tourists, the wind was icy cold from the sea breeze, and the famed abbey looked so beautifully haunted covered in snow and salt-ice. The Addams Manor would be decorated with silky blacks, silvers, reds, white, and plum; the tree decorated with skulls and spiderwebs, piles of gifts wrapped in black paper; and the games they would play would bring a smile even to Wednesday’s face (especially when they played autopsy).

There were exclamations of excitement and dozens of owls came flying down from the highest windows carrying letters and packages to their owners, dropping them in their laps. Saoirse, Millicent, and Bridgit tore open their letters eagerly, as (Y/N) waited for Mortis to deliver a letter from her parents.

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Bridgit after a gulp of pumpkin juice, standing with a letter in hand, “this one’s addressed to me and my brother, I need to catch him before he goes to class.” She explained with a huff, turning to find him at the Gryffindor table.

Saoirse leaned across the table to stab her fork into an untouched sausage on Bridgit’s plate, then put her own letter safely in her bag. “What about yours?” She asked Millicent. “That from your parents?”

Millicent nodded, fiddling with the page in her hand. “Yeah, just how they’re looking forward to me going back and all that. Not very long, though.”

A moment later there was a scuffle of wings from the high window as a few owls rushed out of the way, making room for Mortis to fold his enormous wings to fit through, then reopen them again to glide down. He had the usual black envelope in his talons, dropping it for his young mistress to open, and bending his head low for a pat. “Good morning, Mortis.” She greeted him as she dragged an unused knife under the fold of the envelope to reveal the off-white paper inside. “Go get something to eat.” She said, watching him waddle over to a plate of bacon; his walk might have been cute, if it weren’t for the sharp talons that tapped the table with each heavy footfall that showed his weight. With all of the long-distance flights and buffet of foods, he really was getting bigger by the month.

(Y/N) unfolded the pages to read her mother’s swirling black handwriting.

Dear (Y/N),

We understand your desire to stay at Hogwarts with your friend. If you had something to do with the injury, it shows good character that you would agree to make up for it, & for that we are very proud of you. Pugsley would very much like to know more about the injury and how it came about, & if there were any limbs lost or infected wounds. Well, you will be able to tell him yourself. After we received your letter, Wednesday subtly pointed out how Hogsmeade is a popular visit this time of year, & how it isn’t too far from your school – she will deny it to her dying breath, but I believe she misses you more than she’ll admit. But nonetheless, we agree. We have made reservations at the Hog’s Head, & will be arriving on Sunday 22nd and staying until January 5th. As for you, you may stay with us or at Hogwarts with your friend, we can make arrangements for whatever you decide. I’ve included a note for the deputy headmistress in the envelope, if you would please give it to her.

We are all so looking forward to seeing you, Darling. It has been far too long already.

Missing you,

Mother

(Y/N) let out a small sigh; Wednesday might not have been as subtle as she’d said, but her intentions worked out anyway – and her family believed the lie she’d crafted, so all was well.

She folded the letter back into the envelope and took out the page written for McGonnagal, curious to be sure that she hadn’t written anything about the lie, but was relieved to read only about last-minute plans to Hogsmeade. (Y/N) would be glad to deliver it at the end of her Transfiguration class.

A tap on the arm brought (Y/N) back up from the page, seeing Saoirse collect her bag and grab a biscuit. “C’mon, we’ve got Potions.” She said, and (Y/N) noticed she had Millicent’s letter in hand.

“Why do you have that?” She asked as they made their way out of the Hall.

“She left it on the table, I’ll give it to her in class.”

The Dungeons were icy at this time of year, which was no surprise really – actually, what was a surprise was that they let students live down there in the damp and the cold. Their breaths fogged up in the air as they descended the steps and turned down the classroom’s corridor, seeing most students already at their desks, still wearing their robes and gloves. Saoirse gave a quick indication towards Millicent, nodding to (Y/N) as she returned the letter.

Snape entered the classroom with a swish of a cloak, glaring at those left standing around. “Be seated.” He demanded with upturned lips, watching as everyone shuffled to the nearest table. Truly, that man shouldn’t be working with children.

(Y/N) saw a spare seat in the centre-left of the room, where Rahim was sitting alone, and decided to occupy it (seeing as Saoirse had panicked and immediately sat with Millicent). She gave him a nod in greeting, receiving a shy smile in return as she unloaded her textbook, notes, and parchment onto her side of the desk.

“Today we will review the Forgetfulness Potion.” Snape drawled, and if it weren’t for the fact that so many of them were scared of him, many students would be lulled back to sleep by his monotonous voice. “This includes ingredients, directions, effects, cures, and history. Find the page in your textbooks, and I want an essay of at least two feet before the end of class, or you will be finishing an extra foot for homework.” There were a few groans from the back of the room, which he ignored completely. “You’ll do well to pay attention – you will be tested on it at the start of your next term, and it will be included in your final exam at the end of the year, along with the many other potions and ingredients that we cover.”

For a long while, there was near-silence in the room, only the scratching of quills and the low mumbles and whispers of discussions. And as (Y/N) was writing about the effects of the potion (which she was already having a hard time remembering), she felt a cramp in her hand and decided to take a short break.

Rahim was writing quickly, copying a list from his textbook rather efficiently, until he noticed the bored look on his friend’s face as she studied a satisfying lower-case ‘b’ on his paper. “Um… you alright?”

Nodding, (Y/N) continued to rub her hand as she glanced in the direction of their professor, seeing he was busy marking papers with vague disappointment. “Yes, just… in need of a break.” She answered truthfully.

Rahim nodded and straightened himself out, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Yeah, me too. But at least there’s not long before the holidays.”

(Y/N) hummed, deciding against mentioning how she was staying back. “Yeah, you can finally spend some time away from the library.” She teased, as if she wasn’t in there far more than him.

Humming a laugh, the boy gave her another shy smile, half-hidden by his dark hair. He seemed to be considering something, opening and then closing his mouth hesitantly.

(Y/N) realised that she couldn’t recall ever having a conversation with Rahim alone; they were always accompanied by Saoirse or Hermione. Perhaps that was why he was hesitating – or maybe it just made him all the more shy. “What is it?”

Rahim scrunched his brows slightly, before opting to say what was on his mind. “Well, uh… I was just wonderin’… about them books you’re always reading from the library…” He finally said, fidgeting with his quill and smudging his fingers with the first ink-stains of the day. “They’re just a bit… um… odd… I guess.”

She could tell he was trying very hard not to offend her, which she found very endearing, and was pleased that he was putting such effort into his phrasing. She thought perhaps that he could be trusted with the vague truth; after all, he didn’t have anyone to tell secrets too, other than Saoirse maybe. But (Y/N) was too tired to think up clever lies – it was a skill she’d have to work on. “I received a Message from a spirit, and I’m trying to figure out what to do.” She strategically answered.

To her surprise, Rahim didn’t seem all too shocked by this. Given his quiet nature, she’d expected a bit more of… a reaction. But instead, he seemed to be thinking over her answer seriously. “Spirit? Like a ghost?”

She waved a hand in a ‘sort of’ gesture. “Kind of… but a more dead ghost than a… living... ghost?” She cringed — not so elegantly put.

Rahim thought nothing of the peculiar answer, going along with it in understanding. “Well… where’ve you been lookin’?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Well, just about everything really. Auramancy, Occulomancy, Tarot, runes… so far I haven’t found anything helpful.”

“And Necromancy wasn’t any help?”

She stopped. For the first time in a while, her brain seemed to stutter and freeze. Necromancy.

Necromancy.

Oh how the hell did she not think of Necromancy?

“Oh… I am such an idiot.” She muttered, massaging her forehead in frustration. It was so obvious now, she seriously questioned where her head had been all this time. “Rahim, it’s extremely rare that I’ll ever say this again, but I owe you one.” (Y/N) said, earning another shy smile from the boy.

She had one last shelf to check in the library.

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lainiespicewrites · 5 months

Text

I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?

Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3

Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)

Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.

Please don't share without crediting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse.

“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke.

“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again.

“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand.

“No,” I said again. “I do know.”

“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they can. not after it’s been so long.

“There’s no evidence.” I said.

“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”

“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair.

“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does.

“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually.

“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office. I could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home. Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?

“Okay,” was all I managed to say.

“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder.

“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,” his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded.

“You’re sure?” She asked.

“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded.

“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.” I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again.

“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him.

“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile.

I stood up from my spot next to the desk. Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a

seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me.

“You’re reporting an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded.

“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open.

“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk.

“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching.

“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out.

“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit.

“And what’s his name?” He asked me.

“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening.

“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”

I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes.

“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.

“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”

“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued.

“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,

“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.” Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground.

“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”

“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me.

“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”

“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me.

“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any

reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do.

“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options.

“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked.

“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him.

“I do,” I spoke finally.

“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped.

“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly.

“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”

“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again.

“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.”

“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly.

“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile.

“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again.

“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled.

“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift.

“I’m sorry for keeping you,”

“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded.

He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building.

“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station.

“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”

“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.

“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered.

“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door.

“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me.

“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.” He stated.

“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said.

“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”

“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive.

It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house.

“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.”

“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him.

I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name.

“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.

“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said. Pulling me closer to him.

“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly.

“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said.

“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment.

“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”

“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax.

“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled.

“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly.

“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically.

“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated.

“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow.

“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!

Tag list: @summersong69 @carrie80reads @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007 @alwayzmsbehavn @toooldforobsessions@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @henryownsme @identity2212

Part 2:

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chiriwritesstuff · 6 months

Text

The Impossible Man ✨ Masterlist ✨

Modern Day Detective! Din Djarin x Witch! Reader (Soulmates! AU)

Rating: E, MDNI 18+, Minors (please) Do Not Interact

Series Warnings: Magical realism, allusions to grief, reader's character is cursed, (some) men are trash, eventual smut, the reader goes THROUGH IT (anxiety, depression, grief), soft boi Din Djarin, mentions of death, mentions of being cursed, suicidal ideation, allusions to domestic violence, implied magical usage against people (who deserve it).

Summary: For someone being born into a magical family, a curse placed on the women of your bloodline means you have mostly avoided witchcraft and its calling for the majority of your life. After a life-altering tragedy, you turn your back on your family and your gift and seek out a more normal, boring existence, devoid of magic, and mostly, of love. What happens when the ghosts of your past threaten your peaceful existence and you are forced to reconcile all that you have lost? Will you let the people you have abandoned in your past life back into your heart? Will the appearance of an impossible man you have unknowingly cursed yourself break the chains of love? Will you let him?

A/N: A ✨ Practical Magic ✨ Retelling, with our favorite space boy Din Djarin.

Banner/Graphic: @chiriwritesstuff ✨ Dividers: @saradika

Chapters:

The Deathwatch Beetle 3.2K

A Case of You 8.7K

The Storybook Lady 3.7K

Coming Soon!

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #modern din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin sigh club #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x original female character #pedro pascal #din djarin soulmates at

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jellojelli · 9 months

Note

May I plz request welt bf headcannons ? Both sfw and nsfw plz

Welt Yang Boyfriend Headcanons

*a/n: 𝓜𝓻. 𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓰😍 my very first honkai love*

As always, 🛑Minors DNI🛑

Sfw

Being in a relationship with Welt is as easy as breathing. You make him feel young again and he wants to spend as long as he can going on adventures and creating everlasting memories with you. He is literally the most accommodating, easy going, and kind man in the entire universe. Just wants to travel the universe with you and hold you tight

Welt also is quite the romantic and easily sweeps you off your feet, literally and metaphorically. This man had PomPom clear the main cabin of the express to give you the most perfect confession of your life. Candle lit dinner, dimmed lights, beautiful starry view of space, even showed up with small bouquet of roses to give to you when you came to the main cabin. The only thing he missed was actually telling you to come meet him and the only reason you ended up coming in is thanks to Himeko giving you a little hint

Please remember though that Welt is a bit of a traditionalist in the sense of respecting personal boundaries both in public and private. It’s not that he won’t wrap his arm around you or hold your hand, but he won’t ever do it without asking first and he certainly won’t be overly affectionate in front of anyone. So if you’re looking for a smoochy while Dan Heng and March are there, you’re out of luck because the man will dodge you or go for a forehead kiss

With Welt being a bit of traditionalist I also think he’s a bit overprotective of you no matter your gender and sees himself as sort of the stereotypical ‘man of the house’ in the relationship. Not to say he’ll emasculate you or be misogynistic, he would literally apologize his entire life if he ever did that, he just takes it upon himself to be your protector and takes on those types of responsibilities. However, this will never make Welt stop you from going on adventures with others or alone. He wants you safe, yes, but he never wants to keep you in cage just to make himself feel more at ease

Dates with Welt are always well thought out and planned with you in mind. Welt is a pretty simple guy, he just likes seeing the sights and going to cool places, so it’s incredibly easy for him to find joy in any place or activity. Shopping? He could spend hours in a tech or mechanic shop looking at gadgets or just looking at you try on clothes or fawn over something you like. Sports? He may be up in age, but that doesn’t mean he’s decrepit and he will dunk on you with only a shred of mercy. And you know he’s always happy to go adventuring or exploring in even some mundane place like an abandoned mall or hospital.

Welt loves, loves, loves just existing with you. He loves being domestic and mundane with you by just doing your own things in the same room or doing something sweet together like cooking or doing the household chores together. He especially loves learning to cook something new that neither of you have ever tried before

Cuddle with this man and he will practically be putty in your hand. He’s literally so tense and getting a moment to just melt into your arms makes him feel 10 years younger. Also, ask him to tell you about something while cuddling and you’ll have his heart beating. He loves to subtly show off to you all the cool things he knows and can do. So please praise him and maybe lightly fangirl when he does cool things, it really brings his confidence up. He also thinks it’s really nice that you listen to him and ask him about more interesting things since most people only ask him to explain something educational and not actually retell any cool adventures he’s had

Welt is definitely the type of man to make you tea when you sound under the weather or you feel too hot/cold. He also might have a bad habit of letting you off the hook when it comes to work or the more boring bits of running and being on the express. He just doesn’t want you to overdo it like he does sometimes. You might also be the only person Welt 100% listens to regarding his well-being. Himeko and PomPom cannot thank you enough for getting this man to finally lay down and rest instead of staying up all night.

Fighting with Welt is incredibly rare and it never ever gets explosive or is done in public. The only thing he ever gets irritated with you over is if you have a lack of self preservation. He absolutely cannot stand seeing you battered and bruised, or worse on the brink of death because of an enemy. He’s great at communicating, even if it sometimes feels awkward, and he will sit you down and tell you exactly how he feels about your lack or care for yourself. Welt loves you, and not just loves you, he is in love with. You own his heart, you are his entire being, and he will be a dead man before he lets something take you from him prematurely. If you also happen to bring up how he sometimes acts and how he likes to play martyr himself, he will work on it with you so you both can stay safer while out in the field

I feel like Welt likes to give massages and he’s pretty decent at it too. He’s definitely better at massaging your back than say your legs or feet, but he will absolutely give you a full body massage if you ask. He won’t even make you pay him back, he just wants you to be comfy and relaxed

Kissing Welt will always make him flustered, doesn’t matter if it’s the first time you guys kiss or the 1 millionth time, his cheeks always get a bit pinker after. This man lives for the domestic type of kisses. He loves when you welcome him back to the express or even just back to the room with a kiss and a sweet smile. Same with the welcome kisses he loves goodbye kisses and will not leave the room or the express until he gets at least one kiss. Do not, and I mean do not, play with his kisses. Welt can be surprisingly childish when you try to play any sort of joke on him like pretending you didn’t hear him say goodbye or dodging his kisses. I mean he will legit do it back to you for as long as you did it to him all while he gives you this teasing smile. He will purposely not say goodbye to you anymore and even just straight up put his hand in your face when you try to kiss him and then chuckle at you when you give him a surprised pikachu face

This has nothing to do with Welt being your bf, but I really can’t help but think of Welt when I hear Constellations by the Oh Hellos and I can’t help but imagine him quietly singing this to himself when he thinks no one is around

Nsfw

This man right here is anything you want him to be. While he does have a slight preference for being the one in control or at the least bottoming from the top, he has no issue letting you take control whenever you want

Welt is a bit hesitant to try anything that’s not standard in what he considers ‘normal’ sex. Things like toys, bondage, or more intense kinks like choking or spanking have never really crossed his mind before. He’s willing to try them out for you though, but he won’t ever be too rough with you when it comes to spanking or choking since he’d rather be sweet and cherish you

Omg Welt is a certified pussy/ass eater and he gives earth shattering blowjobs. He can go all night just giving oral to you. Literally let him go to town on you and you’ll have to shove his head away or actually yank his hair to get him away from you because trying to actually move away is impossible when he’s got an iron grip on your thighs

He doesn’t mind if you laugh or crack a few jokes during sex. Sex is weird and makes weird noises and he’s held back some laugher himself from time to time. So don’t feel bad if you giggle at something silly that happened because chances are he’s laughing about it too. Just as long as you aren’t laughing to be mean he’ll join you in your laughing fit. I like to think at least once Welt’s glasses came off his face and just bonked you in yours in the middle of sex, definitely brought the sexy mood down for a moment when you both couldn’t stop laughing for a solid minute

Once you introduce Welt to some different kinks, I think he really takes to shibari and tying you up in general. It’s just really intimate to have him wrap different colored rope over your body and have him practically worship you while he does it

Speaking of, he loves giving body worship. Literally treats you like a king/queen and calls you as such

Loves when you praise him, again with wanting to impress you, he loves when you moan out how good he’s making you feel and loves it even more if he gets you to a point where you can barely even form a single word

Has definitely a time or two turned one of his massages into sexy time by being handsy with you of course only after he heavily hinted at what he was gonna do in case you wanted to refuse

Welt also really loves having early morning/sleepy sex with you. He especially loves it when you both get to be on a planet since on the express there really isn’t any soft, aesthetic morning light streaming in

He plays music when you guys have sex, like records filled with sappy love songs or soft songs with no lyrics will be quietly playing in the background making it feel like some scene in a movie

#honkai star rail #hsr #welt yang #hsr welt #welt x you #welt x reader #welt smut #hsr smut

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markeronacomputer · 2 months

Text

Body Horror and Transformation Writing Prompt List For All You Freaks-But-Not-Sexual-Freaks

As a certified body horror fan, I wholeheartedly believe that there’s a horrific lack of body horror/transformation-but-not-in-a-kinky-way fics on AO3, so I made this to set things straight.

We got all kinds of possibilities: body horror for all you horrible freaks out there, and simple non-painful or disgusting transformations for all you significantly less freaky weirdos out there!

You can choose which to write by yourself if you’d like or maybe just use a random number generator.

Reblogs are much appreciated, and inspired fics even more! (I can’t promise that I’ll know anything about whatever fandom you decide to write for obviously but I’ll likely give it a shot as long as it was made using this list (and isn’t smut))

Body Horror Prompts

Wingfic (The good, old-fashioned, non-kinky transformation fic tag.)

Gothic (Werewolf, vampire, etc… you get the drill.)

Animal (Another good old-fashioned classic.)

Cyborg/Robot (Not as fleshy as the others but it is body horror still.)

Fantasy (This one’s pretty good because “fantasy” is actually just a really big umbrella term for absolutely anything as long as it’s not an animal that exists. “Fantasy” ain’t just dragons and unicorns.)

Alien/Eldritch Anatomy (Let’s say your character got abducted by aliens while they were asleep last night and they’ve come out all fucked up. Like that.)

Mutilated by a crazy person Human Centipede-style (Of course, though, this could result in a number of things. Please don’t make me read your own retelling of Human Centipede.)

Really fucked disease (This is fun because if it’s contagious it means potentially more than one character could be affected.

Mutilated by power (You know that one scene from Akira? Yeah, that. A character gets exposed to more weird magic than their body can handle and it starts to change them. Like how the Fantastic Four got their powers, depending on the adaptation.)

Transformation into species from one of your other fandoms (PLEASE someone make it Pokemon, the body horror potential there is impeccable)

Angelic/Demonic transformation (Which one is up to you… or maybe just flip a coin.)

AMOGUS (or something similar like changelings or such. Excuse me, I just left this here because I was out of ideas.)

Body Horror extra flavour spices for you to add if bored:

Mass Transformation (The same except whatever the prompt is happens to more characters than just one or two.)

Partial Transformation (They transform except not much.)

Slow Transformation (In case you feel like writing something a bit longer.)

Voluntary (Voluntary body horror sounds like something really fun, honestly.)

Involuntary but temporary (Like a werewolf, y’know?)

Roll more than once (Self-explanatory.)

Roll again on the opposite table

Transformation (aka the same thing but with no body horror) Prompts

Animal (like the above but instantaneous/oblivious/painless.)

Body Swap (Very fun, especially when different species are added to the mix.)

Gender Swap (If you’d like an idea of a nice twist to add to this, I’d suggest swapping sexual preference as well as gender. Straight men are still straight as women, and gay men are now lesbians. Very fun if only a select few characters have been affected.)

Ghost (May lean into body horror slightly depending on the method of death. Speaking of which, I’m a big fan of when ghosts get unique appearances/powers depending on the method of death, so maybe you could add that to spice it up?)

Trapped in a computer/other kind of machine (I think I read a creepypasta about this once. It was really fun.)

Reincarnated as a Different Species (That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime, So I’m A Spider So What?… I think there was this one anime where the main character got reincarnated as a vending machine. That’s how versatile this prompt is.)

Isekai into Another Fandom (Overlaps with the above heavily, but more specific.)

Video Game Logic World (You know the Jumanji sequels? That.)

Emergency Transformation (Like the TvTrope: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EmergencyTransformation)

Karmic Transformation (Like the TvTrope: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KarmicTransformation)

Two+ Characters, One Body (I REALLY love this trope because that baby can fit so many shenanigans in depending on how it’s taken.)

Empathic Transformation (This wasn’t worded really well but basically what if a character is transformed into what they see themselves as/transformed by another character into what the transformer sees them as. This could also cross over into body horror depending on how you take it.)

Transformation Extra Flavour Spices For If You’re Bored:

Mass Transformation (self-explanatory)

Voluntary

Involuntary but temporary (Again, like a werewolf)

Partial Transformation (Of course, this only works with about half of the listed prompts but it’s still good.)

Pokemon (PLEASE. OKAY I KNOW THAT’S SPECIFIC BUT POKEMON TRANSFORMATION FICS ARE ALWAYS A RIDE. IT CAN OVERLAP WITH ALL OF THE ABOVE IF YOU PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT: “GHOST” BEING PHANTUMP. “TRAPPED IN A COMPUTER” BEING PORYGON/ROTOM. I’D LOVE TO READ A FIC LIKE THIS. AND. AND. IF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED IN WRITING A FULL-ON POKEMON STORY, JUST PUT IT IN ONE OF YOUR OTHER FANDOMS. LIKE, POKEMON AREN’T THINGS THAT EXIST THERE, NOT EVEN IN FICTION, SO EVERYONE’S WEIRDED THE FUCK OUT.)

Roll more than once (Self-explanatory.)

Roll again on the opposite table

And that’s all! I’ll try my best to read anything you guys may make with this list (that’s not smut, kinky or a retelling of Human Centipede) so go out and spread the word! (oh god people are definitely going to accuse this of being my fetish aren’t they)

#ao3 #writing #body horror #writing prompt list #prompt list

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petals2fish · 2 months

Text

Order In The Court (The Incident)

Summary:

They would joke about ‘The Incident’ for years after, the story always becoming more melodramatic with each theatrical retelling. It was Sirius’ favorite story to tell, and he recited it at their wedding two years later. “And it all started because I got called to jury duty…”

Read on A03

"Please, do find yourself a comfortable seat," the woman behind the front desk instructed, extending a badge emblazoned with the word JUROR in bold crimson letters towards Sirius Black. "Our orientation session is set to commence in a mere two minutes."

Sirius couldn't help but entertain a sense of incredulity at the summons to jury duty. After all, he held the esteemed position of being the closest confidant and cherished friend of none other than Judge James Potter. Sirius had naively assumed that his role in assisting James with his meticulously organized Pokémon card collection would surely render him exempt from the mundane responsibilities of jury service.

Alas, fate had a different plan, as the summons found its way into their mailbox, delivered with no small amount of glee by James himself, his smirk rather too wide for someone delivering stupid civic duty. James, in his characteristic wit, dubbed the summons as 'bring your best friend to work day', a moniker that Sirius cynically rebranded as a 'governmental conspiracy.'

As Sirius made his way into the juror room, James' image beamed proudly from the screens above, accompanied by a short biography detailing his legal prowess. Cheryl, the woman stationed at the front desk, cast a scrutinizing gaze upon Sirius as he navigated past her station to claim a seat.

With a resounding thud, Sirius deposited himself into an unoccupied chair adjacent to a red-haired individual whose face bore an expression of palpable frustration, their heated conversation on the phone permeating the room with an air of agitation.

"This woman at the front desk told me that this could take all day, so if you don't hear from me, I've asked the supposed murderer to murder me."

the irate woman said into the phone, shooting Sirius a look to convey her similar disdain for being there. She was speaking to someone with a high-pitched voice, but the conversation ended abruptly. The woman pulled her phone from her ear and pouted.

Sirius' gray eyes returned to the television screen in front of them. James' face reappeared, accompanied by his bio. The woman looked up just as James' face disappeared, leaving only his bio, which stressed his love for doughnuts and race cars.

"What kind of idiot admits they like Krispy Kreme over Dunkin' Donuts?" the woman muttered next to Sirius with a slight grunt before resuming her phone surfing.

Sirius resisted the urge to tell her that James had a knack for picking the worst foods to love. Anyone who chose Denny's over IHOP was clearly insane, and James picked Denny's every single time.

Suddenly, Sirius' phone went off in his pocket. He leaned up to pull his cell from his jeans pocket. The white screen flashed with more than one message from James Potter.

JP: I can't believe that we get to hang out all day together! / If u get picked to be in my courtroom, that is. / I could get fired for telling u this, but old man Alexander needs a panel of like, twenty jurors, so good luck NOT getting picked. / Are u downstairs?

Sirius rolled his eyes and began texting James back.

SB: They've stuffed at least 150 of us in this tiny room and are about to start orientation. / What happens if I leave before they call my name?

JP: Death penalty for running from ur civic duty

SB: How many jurors do you need?

JP: Idk. This attorney in my case is killing my vibe, and I can't focus. / G2G, the attorney just realized I'm not paying attention to the case and threatened to sue me.

SB: Threaten him with the death penalty.

James remained silent, prompting Sirius to exhale wearily as he reclined in his chair. Glancing at the clock across from him, he noted only a few minutes had elapsed. He sighed once more, drawing a glance from his striking neighbor. Before she could utter a word, a voice resonated from a small stage to their right.

It was Cheryl, the woman from the front desk, positioned at a podium to give instructions. "Alright, let's get started. I see you're all eager to begin your jury duty today."

The surrounding individuals chuckled, albeit with a tinge of bitterness. Cheryl appeared encouraged by the response and proceeded, adjusting her blonde hair. "First, we'll recite the pledge of allegiance."

Reluctantly, Sirius stood and placed a hand over his heart. The red-haired girl beside him wore an indifferent expression as she mimicked the action. Once the pledge concluded, Cheryl instructed them to affirm their commitment to truth before the court of law.

Sirius couldn't shake the feeling of being back in grade school, facing the stern gaze of the principal.

Finally, Cheryl had them seated again before outlining the rules. "Most trials are resolved within a day, and not everyone will be selected. If chosen for jury duty, remember you cannot disclose any information once you leave the courtroom. Those not selected must remain on standby in case additional jurors are needed." Sirius frowned deeply at the prospect of spending the entire day confined to the same room. "Lunch will be provided around midday, and I'll announce when it's time over the loudspeaker. Any questions?"

There was silence.

"This is the perfect time to turn to your neighbors and introduce yourselves."

Of fucking course Cheryl would encourage socialization.

Sirius turned to the redhead, who was eyeing his long black hair with interest. He hadn't noticed before, but her eyes were a startling green, and she was wearing a Levins University sweater. Sirius and James had both attended Levins. The woman stuck out her hand, and he took it kindly.

"Sirius Black," he grunted.

"I'm Lily," she said. "Lily Evans."

Sirius' eyes flashed to her sweatshirt. "When did you graduate?"

Lily responded lukewarmly, "I dropped out."

Sirius raised an interested brow at his neighbor. "Me too. Not your slice of pie?"

Lily tilted her head at him. "What?"

"I mean, did you drop out because you're not very good at school?"

Lily's eyes twinkled precariously. "I got into Harvard Law."

Sirius’ frown faltered. "Oh, sorry..."

"I happen to have an IQ of five hundred and fifty-six."

"Is that even a thing?" He couldn't tell if she was kidding or not.

"I dunno, you tell me."

He stared at her with uncertainty, and then she laughed, a sound that was both warm and spirited.

"I'm just kidding; I don't go to Harvard," Lily waved her hand at Sirius with a grin. "I had to leave LU for a year to take care of my dad. I'm back for my last year. I'm a chemistry major."

Sirius was surprised by her choice of major. "Wow, how—erm—" he paused, not knowing how to phrase his question without insulting her again.

Chemistry was more boring to him than watching wet paint dry.

Instead of being awkward, she challenged him. "Say what you're thinking. You think I'm a nerd."

"Intellectual," Sirius stated.

Her smile widened. "Nice save."

Sirius cracked his own grin; she had the same sense of humor as James. It was uncanny that he'd find the pale, red-haired version of his roommate in jury duty. She even ran her fingers through her loose hair in a way reminiscent of how James messed up his curls.

Lily stopped looking at Sirius to glance down at her phone, which was going off every ten seconds. She was texting back someone with little smirks and a few eye rolls. Since Sirius didn't have anything else to do while they waited, he continued watching her interact with the world behind her screen.

"You're quite popular," he finally said, after about forty minutes of her back and forth texting.

Lily blew her hair from her eyes and sent Sirius a disgraced look. "Everyone's giving me tips on how to get out of jury duty."

"You don't want to be here?"

"You do?" she asked in surprise, as if every word from his mouth was preposterous.

Sirius shrugged. "Not really," he admitted. "But as far as I understand, we're stuck here."

"Well, my friend Marley told me to walk in here with a Donald Trump hat and a Black Lives Matter shirt to confuse the hell out of them," Lily said firmly. "But my other friend Angela is certain if I tell everyone that I believe in the death penalty, they'll send me home."

"Interesting."

"She's convinced they'll let me go on grounds of insanity."

Sirius liked talking to her; she had a sharp sense of humor. "I hear the hospital down the road is quite nice. Padded walls and such."

Lily shrugged at his teasing. "Gotta stay committed to the role."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Commit to a role?" he motioned to her black leggings and university sweater. "The only role you're committed to right now is being a lethargic college student."

Lily stuck her tongue out. "Do you have any better ideas? I'm open to anything."

"Sleep with the judge?" Sirius waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Lily slammed her back against the seat in despair. "I'd seriously consider it."

Sirius laughed and then lightly kicked at Lily's ankles. "I'll let him know."

"Thanks, pal," Lily laughed, as if finding Sirius amusing and not in any way honest.

"In fact," Sirius pulled out his phone, "I'll text him right now."

"Yeah," Lily rolled her eyes, "Because you have Judge Judy on speed dial."

"His name is James, actually," Sirius didn't miss a beat, "And he's my roommate."

Lily eyed him, waiting for his expression to give into her scrutiny. "You're bluffing."

Sirius didn't say anything; he was too busy texting on his phone. Once he'd finished the text and hit send, he flashed the screen right at Lily's green eyes.

SB: James, one of the jurors just told me she's willing to sleep with you to get out of jury duty.

Her forehead furrowed as she read his text, and then she laughed. "Is he attractive?"

Before Sirius could answer, the woman called over the loudspeaker, "Alright, the judge has called for jurors. We will be calling you by the numbers on your badge, and this is a sample size of forty."

There was a collective groan from around the room. Lily crossed her arms moodily and looked at her badge for her number.

"I'm 147," she said, looking at Sirius. "What about you?"

Sirius flipped his badge in her direction. "213."

"What are the chances of us getting called together?" she whispered as the woman started calling out numbers.

"45! 67!"

Slowly, people began filing towards the door at the back of the room.

"Jesus, it's like the damn Hunger Games in here," Lily hissed.

"Just waiting for someone to jump up and yell that they'll volunteer as tribute..." Sirius whispered back.

"I'd need to be thoroughly intoxicated, but hey, for the sheer amusement of it, count me in," she chuckled, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Absolutely, that would definitely add some much-needed excitement to our otherwise mundane confinement," he agreed with a grin.

Sirius couldn't help but admire Lily’s quick wit when she said out loud, "I should've thought of sneaking in some vodka.”

At that moment, Sirius resolved to permanently befriend the clever redhead.

As the forty selected jurors were escorted out by vigilant security personnel, Lily and Sirius exchanged relieved glances. They breathed easier knowing their numbers hadn't been called during the drawing. Watching the jurors depart, they shared a knowing look, silently acknowledging the tension that lingered in the room.

"Can we leave now, then?" Lily asked.

Cheryl's annoying voice came over the intercom, "If you remain in the sitting area, please know we must keep everyone here until all the judge's needs have been met."

"Guess we're stuck here," she shot a glare at the front desk. "Fucking Cheryl.”

Just then, Sirius' phone pinged.

JP: Tell her I at least need 2 take her 2 dinner first.

Sirius laughed and showed his screen to Lily.

Lily fake gasped as if shocked by James’ response, "How old-fashioned!"

SB: She says you're old-fashioned.

There was a reply almost instantly.

JP: Does she like old-fashioned?

Lily, reading over his shoulder, told Sirius, "Tell James I prefer my men in colonial wigs."

JP: Tell her I only wear the white wig when on stand.

Lily's laughter bubbled louder at Sirius' reply, and she reached out her hand, gesturing for his phone. Sirius gladly handed it over to the blushing woman, who appeared thoroughly amused by James' (admittedly weak) retorts. Her fingers danced across the screen as she typed away eagerly. James responded just as eagerly, causing the phone to buzz animatedly in her hands.

After what felt like an eternity, Lily tossed the phone back to Sirius with a satisfied grin. As he scrolled through the messages, a knowing smirk played at the corners of his lips.

SB: Hey Judge Judy, do you have the power to dismiss us from this Hell? - Lily

JP: Hello Lily. Unfortunately, I can't dismiss you unless you're picked.

SB: So now we have to HOPE we get picked?!

JP: I don't make the rules, I just enforce them. / If it makes you feel any better, you'll be paid for being here.

SB: Yeah, like, fifteen dollars.

JP: Maybe they'll buy you all lunch. / Probably not though, because our government has budget cuts.

SB: Aren't you supposed to be judging people right now, not ruining my hopes and dreams?

JP: Actually yes, but this attorney has been going on for literal hours about the color of someone's shoes, and I lost interest about three days ago, so I'm texting under my desk.

SB: Is that not against some judge's code of law or something?

JP: Probably, but I don't always follow the rules.

SB: And they let you be a judge?

JP: A surprise to all, including my professors.

"Well, I have to say," Sirius looked up at Lily, who was reading something on her own phone now that she’d passed his back, "James hasn't held a conversation with a girl this long in a while."

"Not the conversation type?" she hummed, not looking up from her phone.

"He's more the 'kiss don't tell' type," Sirius commented slyly, seeing her neck turn red at the suggestion.

"He just told me that you're the 'kiss don't tell' type," Lily looked up with a smirk.

Sirius frowned, "Wait, are you texting him?"

Lily sniggered and showed her phone screen. Sirius' jaw dropped when he saw that she had her text open to a certain chat with a contact named ‘Judge James’.

Sirius rubbed his eye, trying not to laugh again. "You really labeled him as Judge James?"

"I considered Judge Judy," she crossed one leg over the other casually, "but he convinced me otherwise."

Sirius ran his fingers through his long black hair in disbelief, "I can't believe you got his number."

"Sent it to myself, didn't I?" Lily grinned as she turned her phone back so she could reply to whatever text had just come in. "I had to ask him if he was a Republican or Democrat."

"Politics?" Sirius mused, "Interesting topic."

"I'm not going to have sex with someone who voted for Trump."

"You want to have sex with the judge, Evans? I'm appalled."

"You're the one who suggested it," Lily replied as she kept texting. "Don't worry, I've bargained for your freedom from Jury Duty in the contract."

"There's a contract?" Sirius couldn't believe how much Lily and James had spoken about in the last forty minutes.

"According to him," Lily replied as she smiled at a meme James had sent her.

The woman from the front desk came over the intercom, and the noise in the room quieted considerably. Lily even dropped her phone screen from her face.

"We've just received news from one of our judges, and he might have needed another juror group around one in the afternoon. Now would be the time to get some lunch. Please be aware that if you drive out of the parking garage, you will be subject to fees pertaining to parking. It is our suggestion that you go to one of the restaurants on this street."

"So we can't drive," Lily groaned. "I guess I'll go to the Subway down the road and have a bland sandwich."

"Nah," Sirius stood up and stretched. "Let's go to the bar."

Lily's interest peaked. "A bar?"

"You did say you'd like to get drunk before volunteering as a tribute for the Hunger Games," he reminded her.

"I mean, I won't say no to getting a drink or two."

"It's a date."

"Will James be on lunch then as well?" she asked as she stood up.

Sirius shrugged. "It depends on his case."

"What is his case?" Lily asked as she and Sirius made their way out of the tiny room and down a set of stairs.

"Probably murder," Sirius griped. "Old lady killed her husband after he offended her cat Mr. Snuffles."

"Poor Mr. Snuffles," Lily sighed dramatically. "He didn't stand a chance."

Lily walked ahead, smiling at everyone they passed politely. Sirius felt totally relaxed around her, like they’d been friends for ages and not just a few hours. That didn’t normally happen, not with him at least. Sirius' phone went off again, and he checked it with interest.

JP: So really, how pretty is she? Because right now, based on her texts, I'm in love.

SB: Discernibly average.

JP: Sirius.

SB: James.

JP: This case is taking forever. I should get lunch. Where are you headed?

SB: A bar. She's a riot and wants to get drunk.

JP: She said you dared her. / I bet she’s so pretty. / What color are her eyes?

SB: Ugly

JP: I hate you.

"Sirius, what's the bar called?" Lily pulled Sirius away from his phone.

They stepped outside into the cool October air, with Lily standing there, her phone in her hands as she tried to navigate directions around the courthouse. Other jurors on lunch strolled around them. Lily's red hair fluttered in the wind, and her eyes sparkled, full of life. At that moment, Sirius knew that when James finally met this woman, he'd be a fool not to fall in love. Sirius decided to make himself comfortable around his best friend's future girlfriend.

"I dunno, Evans," he complained. "That's what Google Maps is for."

Lily stood there for a few more moments, typing into her phone. "James says there's a bar on Mayberry and Castle."

"Let's go then," Sirius motioned for Lily to lead the way.

Lily gave a pretty little cheer before heading towards the pillars that led to the streets. Apparently, she had been downtown enough to know where the streets were. She led Sirius about a block away from the courthouse and through a short alleyway. A small bar called Thickens sat between a beauty parlor and a convenience shop. Lily opened the wooden door, and the smell of cigarettes and cinnamon wafted over Sirius as he entered the dimly lit bar.

Once they had their drinks, Sirius eyed the red-haired woman with interest. "So, tell me about yourself, Evans."

Lily took a swig of her cider. "Well," she said with pursed lips, "I grew up an hour south of here in a small town, hated it there, and moved away."

"What a great story," Sirius faked astonishment. "Lifetime movie material."

Lily smirked. "You got a better one, Black?"

Sirius nodded solemnly. "I was disowned by my super conservative family for refusing an arranged marriage to my second cousin, dropped out of school due to depression, and relocated here to be with my best mate."

Rather than pulling away from Sirius, like most people did, Lily leaned in closer. "Sounds like you've had a rough time – but does your sibling despise you with every fiber of their being for no discernable reason?"

Sirius took up her challenge. "My younger brother Regulus didn't break free from the family like I did – he tragically passed away. Took his own life, actually. In his final words he blamed me for his misery."

She took another hearty swig of her drink. "Could've used a happier twist."

Sirius cracked his knuckles. "Well, I was adopted by my best friend's family, and we sing about rainbows and sunshine every night before bed, so I’m pretty happy now."

"What a charmed existence," Lily remarked, her sharp green eyes holding a depth of intelligence Sirius rarely encountered.

“I bet your life is all butterflies,” Sirius surmised, playfully nudging her to give up her story.

Lily looked at the ceiling before sighing and stating out loud, "My father passed away four months ago, my sister disowned me for apparently killing him, and just last week, my cat Argus met his end after darting out and being struck by a bus."

Sirius had to hand it to this girl, she was not shy, nor was she afraid of judgments. She’d be the perfect match for James, and made the perfect friend to help Sirius gang up on James with.

"Are we in a contest for the most miserable life?" Sirius sloshed his drink in his cup to ‘cheers’ her.

"No, just bonding over our shared trauma," Lily offered with a wink.

"That's more like it."

She lightly touched his arm with her bottle. "And what about James?" she asked playfully. "Is he the epitome of perfection?"

"He snores like a freight train and has a penchant for fast cars," Sirius replied. "Not exactly my cup of tea."

Sirius laughed as she took another swig. "Cheers."

Lily requested another cider, having polished off her first. Both of them sat staring at the screens, lost in their own thoughts. Sirius often utilized his tales to dissuade others, and it was rare for anyone to stick around. Yet James had stayed. Remus had stayed. Peter had stayed until he found something more enticing. And now, this girl—this randomly selected girl in jury duty—didn't even flinch when he recounted his story. Sirius downed his whiskey as Lily concluded her second cider.

"Keep pace, Black," she teased.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I challenge you to try and outdrink me."

"I never back down from a challenge," Lily winked as she lowered the bottle from her lips. "If I'm going to endure another six hours in that infernal jury room, I might as well have some fun."

Sirius clinked his glass with hers. "This marks the beginning of a splendid friendship, Evans."

Lily had no objections to that. "We should play a fun drinking game to celebrate this momentous friendship."

"How much fun are you thinking?" Sirius asked.

"Take a sip for every time your family has let you down?" Lily proposed.

"I'd be drunk really quickly if we used those rules."

"Me too," Lily raised her bottle in his direction. "Cheers to that."

He finished his whiskey and downed three more, a testament to Sirius's renowned tolerance for alcohol. Meanwhile, Lily, slightly tipsy and giggly, leaned on Sirius's arm as they made their way back to the courthouse. She looked at the world with a contented sigh, expressing her joy at the strangest things. She was like a breath of fresh air, as much as he loved hanging out with his other friends. Sirius didn't have too many friends who were girls, in fact.

"I'm so happy we crossed paths," she declared, "And I plan on charming your best friend to help us out of this situation."

Sirius chuckled, guiding her through the courthouse door. "You think flirting with a judge might get us kicked out?"

"It'd be a relief," Lily replied as they ascended the staircase to the jury room, "Considering I've been trying to flee since seven thirty this morning when Cheryl had us singing the national anthem."

"I challenge you to sing it again, but this time to Cheryl," Sirius proposed.

"Really?" Lily whispered, briefly checking her reflection on her phone screen.

"They might actually send you packing," Sirius mused.

"I'm game," Lily affirmed, determination flashing across her features. "Anything to escape this place, but you're coming with me."

Sirius couldn't suppress his laughter as she broke free from his embrace and twirled up the stairs. Her red hair billowed behind her, and she collided with a messy-haired boy in black robes and thick glasses. Sirius recognized him instantly, though Lily and James were strangers to each other.

James caught Lily's shoulders, steadying her with a half-smile. "You alright?"

"Oops, sorry!" Lily giggled, withdrawing from James's grasp and dancing excitedly down the hall toward Cheryl. "Let's go, Sirius, we're getting kicked out of jury duty!"

"Right behind you, Evans!"

James Potter turned to see Sirius striding confidently, while Lily charged ahead, oblivious to the fact that she had just bumped into Judge James without a second glance. James ran his fingers through his hair, further tousling the black curls as he watched Sirius and then Lily disappear down the corridor.

"Is that—" James began.

"Indeed it is," Sirius confirmed as he passed James to join Lily.

"Fuck me, she's gorgeous," came James' less than eloquent reply.

As Sirius followed Lily into the jury room, he couldn't believe his eyes. Lily wasn't just walking in, she was belting out the national anthem at the top of her lungs. Sirius was beside himself with laughter as the entire room turned to watch Lily make her grand entrance, serenading the women at the front desk. Cheryl, in particular, looked utterly mortified as Lily proudly delivered the country's anthem with unexpected gusto and bursts of laughter.

"Oooooh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light!" Lily's rendition sounded like a distressed whale.

Sirius couldn't fathom how he ended up in jury duty with this wild woman, but he was grateful nonetheless, thoroughly entertained as Lily sang directly in front of Cheryl, sporting wide arms and a terrible dance.

"Ma'am, please, have a seat!" Cheryl pleaded. "What on Earth are you doing? Someone, call security!"

"Damn," Sirius chuckled, still unable to contain his amusement, as he reached out to gently pull Lily away from Cheryl's murderous glare. "I can't believe you actually went through with that dare."

"I never back down from a dare," Lily declared before glaring at Cheryl. "Can we go, please?"

Cheryl stood up, shaking her finger at Lily and Sirius. "You can't leave until all the judges' needs have been fulfilled."

Lily glared unhappily at Cheryl. "You fetch Judge James, Cheryl, and I'll ensure his 'needs' are taken care of."

Sirius doubled over, struggling to contain his laughter. James would surely be in stitches when he hears about Lily's drunken declaration of fulfilling his needs.

"Are you intoxicated?" Cheryl implored, eyes wide with horror.

"Me? Intoxicated?" Lily chuckled, shooting Sirius a mysterious glance. "Not at all."

"She's definitely drunk," Cheryl pointed out to someone entering behind Sirius.

"I only had, like, two beers," Lily countered as security brought out a Breathalyzer. "That's hardly enough to get me wasted."

"Please, escort her out," Cheryl pleaded with security. "She's disrupting the proceedings for everyone!"

Sirius couldn't agree less; the room was either erupting in laughter or capturing Lily's antics on their phones. She had the entire room on her side, some people were even asking if they could leave too. Sirius had a sneaking suspicion that Lily might be able to get anyone to do what she wanted, she just had a certain charisma to her that most people dreamed about having.

Undeterred, Lily continued, "Cheryl, listen. I'm all for the death penalty, so you might as well send me home—"

Cheryl motioned to the security guard, who seemed perplexed by Lily's behavior. "Come on, remove her from here!"

"Only a judge can dismiss a juror," the security guard reminded Cheryl, pointing out the rule she was so keen on enforcing.

"I want her out of my jury room!" Cheryl demanded. "She's mocking our national anthem, she's threatening to prostitute herself out of jury duty, and she's drunk!"

Sirius really couldn't keep a straight face as he pulled out his phone to contact James as quickly as humanly possible.

SB: James, your future girlfriend is going to get arrested.

JP: Someone just came into my courtroom complaining about a drunken woman in the jury room. Please tell me it was her.

SB: I mean, it would've been fine, but then I dared her to sing the national anthem to everyone in the room and she did it.

JP: I'm going to marry this girl.

Sirius looked up from his phone to see Lily struggling against the hold of a policeman, her green eyes narrowed with frustration. He immediately turned to the woman at the front desk, Cheryl.

"Hey," he beamed dramatically, using all the Sirius Black charm he could muster. "So, my friend there isn't drunk. I swear. I dared her to sing to you. No harm meant. It was just for a bit of laughs."

"It won't be so funny when she's facing fines or jail time," Cheryl warned.

Lily let out a derisive snort. "Relax, Cheryl."

Sirius turned away from the desk to shoot Lily a disapproving glare, finding her lack of cooperation exasperating. Meanwhile, Lily was growing increasingly agitated with the security guard attempting to administer a Breathalyzer test. Sirius had little doubt that if they managed to get a reading, Lily wouldn't come out sober. Hell, he wouldn't either.

"You have no evidence that I'm intoxicated!" Lily snapped, her nose wrinkling with frustration. "We were just trying to pass the time because we've been stuck here all day!"

"Please, blow into this breathalyzer, Miss," the officer insisted, appearing as though he'd rather be anywhere else.

Join the club , Sirius thought.

"No way!" Lily exclaimed, pushing the breathalyzer away from her mouth. "I won't give you ammunition to use against me in court."

Suddenly, the double doors swung open again, and Sirius felt a surge of relief at the sight of James entering. Cheryl seemed relieved too, but James's attention was solely focused on Lily, his eyes brimming with joy. Sirius marveled at how James hadn’t even officially met the girl and was already getting heart-eyes like right out of a comic book.

"Alright, alright, what's happening here?" James interjected as he approached from the staircase, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I came up here to dismiss everyone from jury duty, and now there's all this commotion about some drunken escapade. Where was my invite to the party?"

"She won't breathe into the breathalyzer, Your Honor." The policeman motioned in frustration to Lily, who had her arms crossed and mouth squeezed shut like a child at the dentist.

"Why does she need to be breathalyzed?" James asked.

"We believe she's been drinking." Cheryl stated firmly, glaring at Lily with all her power.

"But you have no proof?" James noted, shrugging nonchalantly.

"She was just singing the national anthem at the top of her lungs." Cheryl deadpanned, “and you want to tell me she’s sober?”

"I'm actually just really super patriotic," Lily muttered resentfully, and Sirius had to clamp a hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't laugh out loud again.

The same couldn't be said for James, who laughed out loud at Lily's cheek. "She has a point," James said to the police officer with a chortle. "It's not illegal to sing the national anthem."

"She smells like the bar," the officer said pointedly.

"I smell like cheap beer and disappointment too.” James said, tilting his head dangerously, “You want to breathalyze me?"

"Of course not, Your Honor," the police officer said irately. "But you wouldn't show up to a courthouse drunk."

"That you know of," Lily hissed loudly enough for everyone to hear, staring at her fingernails, not quite realizing which judge was standing before her.

"Miss, we can't have drunks running around the courthouse," the policeman hissed. "Please just—"

"Let me talk to the offender," James ordered in his deep tone, reminding Sirius how menacing James could be when he tried.

"Alright then." The policeman motioned for James to proceed, releasing his grip on Lily's elbow.

Sirius observed as James turned towards Lily, a smile spreading across his face. James stuffed his hands into his robes, wearing the goofiest grin imaginable before coyly greeting, "Hello, Lily."

Lily's eyes widened, and her complexion paled. "Shit."

Sirius wished he could etch every moment of this day into his memory, especially the look on Lily's face when she realized who the judge was.

James's hazel eyes danced with playful amusement. "Yes, it's me, Judge James."

"Judge... James?" Lily's surprise was palpable.

James inclined his head towards Lily, causing her cheeks to flush once more. "Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," he said, offering his hand to her. "I'm the one who upholds the rules around here."

Lily hesitated, eyeing his outstretched hand. "Well, I'm in trouble now."

"And why is that?" James asked, a hint of amusement evident in his voice.

"Because you're hot," Lily quipped, a mischievous smirk gracing her lips as she finally accepted his handshake. “Got any handcuffs?”

James snorted, but Sirius could tell he was pleased by the compliment. "You don't have to butter me up, Evans. I'm letting you off the hook."

"Your Honor, she's clearly inebriated," the security guard interjected anxiously. "That goes against the code—"

James cut him off. "it's not just her, all these people are released from jury duty."

Lily let go of James’ hand and danced in place. "What? You're serious? We’re free?"

"You're released from jury duty," James confirmed with a nod. "You can go."

"Finally," Lily sighed happily, turning to Sirius with a triumphant look. "And I didn't even have to sleep with the judge!"

"I really hope that's not ruled out completely," James remarked shrewdly, earning an aghast look from the security guard.

"Not completely," Lily shrugged. "But I thought you had to take me to dinner first."

Before James could respond, Lily (who was most definitely drunk off her ass) grabbed a fistful of James' robes and kissed him squarely on the mouth. For a second James remained motionless, and then he responded in full, his hands gathering up in her hair to anchor Lily to his lips. Cheryl almost had a heart attack when she came out around the desk to find Lily wrapped up in James' arms. And James was thoroughly enjoying it. All Sirius knew is that James took entirely too long "walking Evans back to her car" after they’d finished swapping spit.

James faced repercussions from his boss for delaying an unresolved court case.

Lily was reprimanded for causing a scene and was slapped with a fifteen-dollar fine.

Sirius successfully dodged jury duty and found the entire outcome enjoyable.

Plus, Sirius had gotten another friend out of it.

A week later, Lily and Sirius sat at the kitchen table engrossed in a fierce game of Monopoly, determined to outmaneuver each other, when James returned home from work. He hung his bag on the back of Lily's chair and leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek. Sirius made a show of gagging before making his move in the game, eliciting a string of curses from Lily directed at his family name.

Sirius just flipped her off and took more of her money in the process.

“I love you both.” James chuckled at their playful banter before slipping his arms around her frame and planting his chin on her skull like a headrest.

"So, still gainfully employed?" Lily inquired, Sirius knew she was legitimately concerned that her antics might have jeopardized James’ job.

"Nah," James replied. "I'm the only one there who actually cares about the cases. They can't afford to let me go, despite Cheryl's complaints."

"What does that woman have to complain about," Lily remarked as she navigated her way around the Monopoly board.

"Cheryl, swears she witnessed you 'assaulting' James…” Sirius teased Lily, kicking her lightly under the table.

“Yeah cause I was,” Lily said proudly, “with my mouth."

"Cheryl was way out of line with that accusation," James stated with a roll of his eyes. "It was quite evident that I was reciprocating the assult. 100% consensual assault of the mouths."

Lily leaned into James's touch. "It's not my fault that I'm utterly irresistible."

"Yeah, that would've held up in court," Sirius said, watching as James nibbled Lily's neck unashamedly. "God, you two are like lovebirds. It's nauseating."

Lily winked at Sirius as she tilted her head for James to get better access to her bare skin. "Feel free to leave."

"And let you have sex on our kitchen table?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Absolutely not."

"You two are iconic now, you know," James told them, pure joy practically bouncing off him. "Cheryl has taken to warning every juror that enters the courtroom that there will be no drinking before, or during, jury duty."

"Why does she feel she has the right to tell people not to drink?" Lily asked with a self-righteous shrug.

James hummed. "Apparently, you're supposed to serve your time in court sober."

"I bet she says you shouldn't sleep with the judge either," Lily mocked, looking up at James and batting her eyes.

"Probably, but I don't always follow the rules," James said, kissing her full on the mouth.

When he pulled back, Lily was beaming.

"And they let you be a judge?" she teased him, running her fingers through his black hair.

To Sirius, James had never looked happier in his entire life. "For some reason, they deemed me trustworthy."

Sirius swallowed a bit of whiskey before reminding the couple, "Don't forget the sorry bastard who introduced you two."

He wasn't sorry, not at all, especially when they all walked down the street to a Chinese takeout forty minutes later. Lily had one arm in James' embrace and her other arm wrapped around Sirius as they discussed what movie they were going to watch over dinner. They would joke about ‘The Incident’ for years after, the story always becoming more melodramatic with each theatrical retelling. It was Sirius’ favorite story to tell, and he recited it at their wedding two years later.

“And it all started because I got called to jury duty…”

#jily #jily fic #james potter #lily evans #jily fanfiction #sirius black #guess who got jury duty summons and decided to drag this baby out from my old files?

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alizalayne · 4 months

Text

books of year ‘23, but only the ones that weren’t rereads and that I had something to say about. Text is written out below the cut. Please recommend books to me!!

Scales and Sensibility by Stephanie Burgis

when i saw this being recommended to me on scribd i sent it to my friends along with the word YESSSSSSSSS about 80 times. This has palpable Diana Wynne Jones insanity which is very exciting to me. The romantic lead is so boring but he’s not important; what’s important is the main character’s batshit physical transformation and its consequences. This book also triggered a personal ephiphany that i’d been setting myself up for for years, which is a little bit happenstance but I’m glad it happened while listening to this as an audiobook on a hike.

___

Lonely Castle in the Mirror by Mizuki Tsujimura

I’ve read a few books with a similar tone and goals but most of them do not feel as sincere, or they get preachy in a way this does not. I am a massive sucker for narratives about going and coming back to magical worlds (pre-isekai boom), like coville’s unicorn chronicles or barker’s abarat. they’re the most effective to me when they do what this is doing: telling an empathetic human story. One thing I really appreciate about this book as a mental illness narrative for younger people is its willingness to tackle the idea that someone’s terrified inner voice can be incorrect, or it can reflect reality accurately— some people do have a reason to be excessively scared. I think there’s a tendency when tackling this concept, especially for child readers, to tell them that their anxieties are silly and illogical, that of course no one is trying to hurt them. But that’s not always true. I appreciate that this story is able to question the main character’s assumptions about other people’s evil intentions while not questioning that her feeling of fear is real, while simultaneously acknowledging that similar pain is felt by kids going through abuse. I think I would have preferred a smaller cast or a longer book with more exploration of the other kids.

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Earthlings: A Novel by Sayaka Murata

another very empathetic mental illness book, but much more disturbing. the main character’s worldview is alluring because the narrative paints reality in such a bleak way. If it didn’t force a sense of perspective on you, it could be a document that starts a cult. It’s very accurate to some experiences that I have had and things i have heard people say while in dangerous situations that involve religious behavior.

It’s very difficult to challenge the type of thinking this explores because each brick that builds a wall between someone’s mind and the rest of reality can seem like a reasonable brick. but when you look at the whole wall you can’t understand how such small and normal things as bricks could seal someone up inside and swallow them. This does a good job of showing you its challenge without being cruel. I’m glad I read it.

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What Once Was Mine: A Twisted Tale by Elizabeth J. Braswell

official goth retelling of disney’s tangled, I had to see what was going on in there but it was pretty boring, worth the $0 price of library admission for rapunzel having evil moon hair that fucking kills you

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Cutting Teeth by Chandler Baker

NO EXPLANATION FOR WHY THE TODDLERS STARTED TO CRAVE BLOOD. WAS HOPING DRACULA WAS BURIED UNDER THE PRESCHOOL BUT NOBODY LETS ME HAVE ANYTHING AROUND HERE

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Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

I’d never read this before. Soooooo fun

fucking GET HIMMMMMM GIRLLLLL YESSSSSSSS!!!!! KILL!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Declamation on the Nobility and Preeminence of the Female Sex by Henricus Cornelius Agrippa, edited by Albert Rabil Jr. 2007 edition

I cannot recommend this text enough if you are insane like me in pain like me (english literature major). Imagine that you are the princess of Austria and you’re bored of mummifying your husband’s heart and you decide to buy the man who would become arguably the world’s most famous wizard. this happened in real life. And what he decided to do was kiss her ass with his entire mouth. To that end, he wrote a torturously funny ted talk about how god made women better than men. Here are some reasons: women don’t drown in water because they’re fatter than men, but when women DO drown they do it face down so no one will see their boobs. Menstrual blood cures epilepsy and depression and can extinguish fires (????). all eagles are female (?????) and god created women last so he had tons of practice by then. This is the holy grail of bitchy footnotes. So many of these are just “he made this up”. It’s so fun!! And it’s helpful to remember that people have always been making shit up.

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honorable mention: I read through the letters of Saint Hildegard of Bingen and I have to recommend this to everyone alive. I think she was in lesbian love so hard that that’s why she she wrote that shitty letter to the pope. but what do i know. she is also about 80% of the reason we know anything of what medieval medical knowledge was among women in europe. She also documented a ton of natural science.

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The Crone Wars by Lydia M. Hawke

Now i have to admit i didn’t read all these. I did read the first one but this author’s priorities just don’t really align with mine, since these are ultimately straight romance novels. However, I wanted to show how long the series goes and what the titles are because I think they’re really fun. It was very cool to see what YA sensibilities look like with a 60 year old protagonist. This main character really reminded me of Usagi from Sailor Moon, which as a massive freak about sailor moon is not something I give out lightly, and I kept imagining events from this book as drawn by Riyoko Ikeda. After spending a little time with it, the manga panels just sort of happened in my mind and i recommend the experience. I do still want to draw some scenes from it sometime.

#did not include things by friends or friends of friends because it felt very strange to lump those in with usual reading

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trulycertain · 5 months

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Tedium

A study of early game Lora and Astarion, and the absolute mess that was. Developing mostly-good bard Tav/Astarion, with so much arguing. 1.6k.

Lora has always found small, petty bastards boring - the kinds who tried to make her and so many others' lives a misery in the city. They've just got so little imagination. Their excuses are all the same, it's just a matter of scale. Even if they pretend to be misguidedly noble, the self-interest slips through eventually. Evil in stories is grand, elegant, tragic. It has really good tailoring. Evil in real life? It's banal, grey or mud-soaked, and seems to take place in offices half the time, for some reason. Good, that cheap, trite thing in too many stories? In reality, it's a sudden sparkling surprise every time it happens; Baldur's Gate is not a place known for being gentle. People are more beautiful when they do a good thing. The sky is brighter, the grass just a little bit greener.

Astarion is small, in the sense of both generosity of spirit and actual stature - it's not her fault that she's six foot two and that he gets so irritated when she sees something over the top of his head. She's not doing it on purpose. Mostly.

He's incredibly petty. (“Oh, I'm sure she's just a delight at parties,” he says of the druid guard who's stopped them at least twice, thinking they might be refugees. “Refugee? Me? Have they seen this thread? Have I a pair of horns and an air of pathetic desperation? Just because I didn't know that dirt-encrusted branches were apparently ‘in’ this week...” Finger-quotes and everything. Lora might have snorted at that. He catches her; he raises an eyebrow in response, but with the tiniest pleased tilt to his mouth.)

And he's definitely a bastard. He's happy to leave the tieflings to die - happy to leave anyone to, it seems. She has to take a deep breath at that, but there are the pressing time constraints of soon turning into a mindflayer; no wonder he wants to get straight to healers and the creche. Good intentions won't mean much if you turn into a squid mid-fight and end up killing or kidnapping all the refugees anyway. She tries hard to bear that in mind while he sighs melodramatically, as if helping people is an inconvenience that might lead to his breaking a nail, and she glares at him. He delights in a holy relic being stolen - but with something like genuine approval of the tiefling child's bravery, somewhere under all that. And he's not wrong that all this self-righteousness about not interfering in nature is a bit rich when you're very intentionally turning people out to the mercy of raiders. But that's all he's right about.

A small, petty bastard. All that's true, and real. So why does she keep talking to him? Why isn't she bored? Angry, most of the time, and amused, sometimes, but not bored.

If Lora knows one thing, it's a narrative. Retellings wear grooves in the dirt for a reason; it feels like there's a way some stories have to wrap up. She knows exactly how it would have ended if she'd met Astarion before the tadpole. A cruel vampire too well-oiled by half, who seemed to delight in death and blood? One of them would have ended up dead, the other with a twist of satisfaction - his at having survived another day and, as a bonus, shut up a pompous hero type; hers at having taken someone that dangerous out of the world, even if she'd have completely missed the master pulling the strings.

Later, when she realises she's been imagining completely the wrong backstory for him, she thinks of the Grove again. Of being free for the first time in two hundred years, finally able to walk in the sun, and losing it in minutes because your leader ran headfirst into a battle.

Hells, she hates when he almost makes sense. It makes her dust off her moral compass for a quick check.

Still, he meanders up to her - to poke her, to tease and taunt, but sometimes just… to ask questions. Feeling for her weak spots, probably, but there's a cheerful curiosity in his eyes that seems genuine when he asks her how she learned to play the lyre, what her other instruments are. It's a rare moment of peace in between their mutual arguments. He plays it off soon enough with some comment about her being good with her hands and an eyebrow-waggle, but the questions were real. He prods her to see what falls out and she… lets him. If anything, she does the same. And she still isn't bored.

He delights in bloodshed and mayhem; he drinks deeply of death just the way he does of life. She’s caught him laughing under his breath when someone falls to the floor, caught him licking the blood off his daggers when he thought she wasn’t looking - that just got her a red-stained grin and an obscene widening of his arms like he was inviting her to look. He makes jokes about killing gnomes. He makes jokes about killing her, though those are actually funny, and he's right about having to face what will happen if they change; it's best to do it with a laugh. It's also oddly forthright, oddly brave, for a man who's never been forthright in his life. He beams at her when she plays along, like she’s just given him a gift, morbidly pleased at speaking of his own beheading. Death and bloodshed and mayhem, yes.

Except.

Except when she’s watching a young tiefling girl about to be bitten by a snake, or pretending to offer the goblins’ general the tiefling camp on a platter. His eyes harden, in that moment, even while his mouth twitches and he makes amused, contemptuous quips: like he’s waiting for her to make the obvious choice. And even as he makes approving noises at the thought of the goblins’ victory, even as he castigates her for her soppy kindness…

Cruelty would be the obvious, the easy choice. It would be exactly what he expects. It would also be, she’s certain more and more when she feels those red eyes on her, the boring choice. To him, too. Even if he doesn't want to admit it.

She's always had a good instinct for people, so her mentor used to say. It got taught to her early, taught her when a glassing was coming or she was about to get stiffed on payment at a tavern or just how to work a crowd.

Stories in well-worn grooves. Two hundred years of death and desperate self-service and making sure everyone's expendable but you, over and over again. The same narrative shoved down your throat for two hundred years.

The shape of it is there in her mind, sketched out but not detailed yet: he knows cruelty like the back of his hand, partaking and receiving. He can sleepwalk his way through it. There’s a delight when he speaks of it, an amusement in his eyes, but it’s the same as when he spoke of being a magistrate back in the city, it’s all very tedious, lording his power over her, pointed and urbane and far, far too well-rehearsed. The same way she looks over her shoulder and catches him flirting with their companions, incorrigible, a lazy, leering lean closer in his tone even as he keeps walking beside them. There’s real amusement there at getting to play with words, at making them uncomfortable, and yet... I saw you mouthing that one to yourself in the mirror earlier, Shadowheart points out, when he tries a particularly trite line on her. And Lora thinks, Exactly.

He bristles and shouts at her and makes drawled comments about how much of a drip she is. She agrees to find an elderly woman’s missing daughter; behind her, she hears him sigh and not even bother to hide it, the rolling of his eyes entirely audible. They get back to camp and he asks her, “This will take us closer to understanding the tadpole how, exactly?” He hates every minute of it, hates her - but there’s a wildfire in him, searing bright and unrehearsed and fascinatingly real, when he snarls at her and melodramatically turns his back to her and calls her tedious.

She bought it at first, the way he called her that. She was boring, certainly, and he was a self-serving shallow ass - that part was true, even if he was lying through his teeth about so many things. He got to stay because they dearly needed a lockpicker and archer as good as him, and because she was too reluctantly herself to let him turn into a mindflayer alone, even if she should have. As he said that second night: you need someone to put you out of your misery.

And then she realised precisely what it was, behind all the bared teeth and callous suggestions: he’s waiting.

He waits for her to slip and kill someone because it’s easier, or say that he deserved his master’s treatment. She laughs sometimes at his sense of humour - less dark, more Underdark - and takes precisely none of his suggestions. He waits for her to be a humourless paladin type who crushes him underfoot or turns out to be a stiff fraud wearing mail, and she cackles at his muttered observations, happily humiliates the little tyrants they see on the road along with him. The moments their eyes meet and she sees the silent vicious glee in his, too, the both of them knowing pride comes before a very long fall, they almost understand each other. She lies and cheats the false servants of Tyr before killing them anyway, because they were going to drag an innocent tiefling back to the Hells, and sees his reluctantly impressed eyebrows out of the corner of her eye - and then she gives the money to refugees while he sighs. He snarls, I was a slave and waits for her to order him about or step over him; the best she can tell, she treats him just the same. As they keep to the road and he realises that the mask he’s been trying to pry away is just her face, the easy, dulled cynicism in his eyes is starting to be replaced by something else: a confused, furious surprise. Maybe the first surprise he’s had in two centuries.

She’s learned to read him a little better, over these weeks on the road. She’s driving him mad. He’s incandescently angry with and baffled by her in turns. But she doesn’t believe him when he says he finds her tedious.

#astarion x tav #Astarion #astarion ancunin #lora mctavish #Baldur's Gate 3 #Oh god they're a disaster

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7-wonders · 2 years

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The Force and Its Tragedies (Sith!Anakin Skywalker)

Summary: Joining the Rebel Alliance was always going to be a risk to your life and safety. But never did you think that you would end up in the clutches of the evil that you have been fighting to take down. And never did you think that you would reveal your biggest secret to said evil.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Kay, so this is my first (and maybe last? depending on reception) Star Wars fic in a long, long time. It's also a Sith!Anakin Skywalker fic. Suitless, uncrispy Vader, if you will. Let me know your thoughts, feedback is always appreciated. If you enjoyed, please like, comment, or reblog! If you didn't enjoy, pick a time and place and we shall duel.

The first thing that you realize upon waking up is that you have no memory of how you came to be in a position where you would need to wake up. The last thing you remember, your small group of Rebels had landed on Naboo to follow up with the Gungans on a lead about the Empire’s supposed killing machine, the Death Star. Now you’re here…if only you knew where ‘here’ was.

That’s when you realize the second thing, which is that you’re restrained. Considering you don’t usually restrain your hands and feet before going to bed, you’re a little concerned. Now you’re actually awake, and your eyes shoot open to see what situation you’ve found yourself in. You’re strapped to a platform that stands vertically, the restraints being the only things keeping you from falling over. The room is small and constructed almost entirely of steel, with no technology to give you any sort of indication as to where you are.

“Hello?” you call out, cringing as your voice echoes through the room. You clear your throat and try again. “Can anyone hear me?”

The door, a panel on the wall that looks the same as the rest of the room, opens before you can again attempt to summon anyone, and you know that you’re in far more danger than you had originally thought. The all-black figure that marches in would be imposing based on size alone, but the lightsaber at his hilt and the helmet covering his face make him a creature of nightmares. Everybody in the galaxy, and probably outside of it, knows who this is, how he came to be. After all, the Jedi Order and the Republic only fell a mere five years ago.

Anakin Skywalker was a name only spoken in whispers by people gossiping and retelling how the so-called Chosen One had heeded Darth Sidious’s call, executing Order 66 flawlessly and without any mercy. Nobody knew for certain what had happened that day on Mustafar when the student battled the teacher. The only thing that was certain was that after that, both Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker had disappeared, the former presumed dead and the latter taking on the mantle of Darth Vader (the worst-kept secret in all the worlds). Some say that he wears the helmet because he had been burned beyond recognition and the suit was the only thing keeping him alive, others claim it’s solely for the fear that it strikes in the hearts of his opponents. Whatever the reason, it’s certainly striking fear into your heart right now.

The door slides shut behind him with a hiss, and for a long few minutes, he just stands there and stares at you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, but it’s doing its job. You can’t see his eyes, yet you can still feel them boring into your skin. It’s uncomfortable, and you squirm under his gaze.

“So,” he begins, his modulator-altered deep voice making you jump, “this is the best that the Rebel Alliance can come up with?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You parrot the alibi you’ve gone over multiple times since you were assigned to this mission. “I was on Naboo to trade textiles.”

“Liar.” He takes a step closer to you, and your breath catches in your throat. “We know that you’re with the Rebels.”

You shake your head. “You’re mistaken.”

“Am I?” His voice sounds mocking—he probably is mocking you. “If you’re not going to tell me what I want to know, I can always just take it from you. I’m going to ask one more time. What were you doing on Naboo?”

“I already told you.”

His head tilts thoughtfully. “So you’re going to be difficult today? Very well, then.”

It’s difficult to explain what it’s like when someone tries to go through your mind unless the person has also gone through the same experience. Unfortunately, it seems that more and more people these days have experienced the cruel interrogation tactics of the Empire. It’s a horrible feeling, one that you can never forget once it’s happened to you.

It’s an invasion of privacy in the worst form when you learn that your mind is not nearly as impenetrable as it’s supposed to be. Your mind feels as though it’s being physically rifled through, one layer at a time. The pain would be enough to send you to your knees if you were physically able to, but your vision whites out instead.

Going down without a fight would be to go against your very nature, so you force yourself to regain some of your wits and attempt what the Rebellion has been training you to do. You lift your head up to stare back at Vader, taking deep breaths in and then, with each breath out, physically pushing him out of your mind. He retreats suddenly, almost stumbling back. You’re sure that this is how you die, considering you’ve never heard anybody ‘defeat’ Darth Vader and live to tell the tale. To your surprise, however, he looks at you and laughs. Maybe you did die? That’s the only logical reason why he would be laughing right now.

“I didn’t realize we had a Jedi as our guest of honor today.”

“I’m not a Jedi.”

“No, but the Force is strong with you.”

“That’s–”

“There’s no use coming up with more lies. Not when I can feel it.” A hand comes up to your face, and you flinch as he brushes an errant hair out of your eyes. “Someone’s on edge.”

You roll your eyes. “Pardon me for being a little jumpy after being captured by some creature in a mask.”

“‘Creature in a mask,’” he repeats dryly. After a moment, his hands come up to his mask. You can hear the mechanisms unlatching his mask, and you close your eyes to try and shield yourself from the horrors you’re inevitably about to face.

Slowly, hesitantly, you peek out of one of your eyes before both open to make sure that what you’re seeing is correct. The stories, it turns out, are wrong. Darth Vader is not some burned husk of a man that’s clinging to life, nor is he horribly disfigured. Darth Vader is arguably one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. His golden-brown curls fall to just above his shoulders, and his sharp features are striking. With a face like his, you can easily see why people could so easily fall to the dark side. The only thing that does give you pause is his eyes; bright and yellow, the eyes of a Sith.

A smirk appears on his full lips, and you know that he doesn’t need to read your mind to know that you’re enjoying (unhappily, albeit) this revelation. “Now that I’ve successfully toppled your ‘creature in a mask’ assumption–”

“You can still be a soulless creature no matter how you look,” you hiss.

Vader raises an eyebrow at you, daring you to speak out of turn again. Upon seeing that the message has been received loud and clear, he continues. “The Jedi keep thorough records of Force-sensitive younglings throughout the galaxy. How did you escape them, then?”

Too late, you realize that you perhaps should have pushed aside your tendency for self-preservation. Maybe revealing that you’re Force-sensitive to a Sith was a very, very bad idea. Judging by the sudden interest in your past, you’re leaning more towards that it was definitely bad instead of just ‘maybe’ bad.

You don’t realize that you’ve inadvertently refused to answer the question until that same pain shoots through your head once again, making you cry out in pain. “Need I remind you what happens if you don’t play by the rules?” The pain disappears just as suddenly as it appeared. If you weren’t tied up right now, you would absolutely flip Darth Vader off. Instead, you settle for mentally flipping him off. It doesn’t have the same effect. “Answer my question.”

You sigh heavily. “Fine! My parents didn’t want to give me up, they refused to allow me to be taken away by the Jedi. I was eight when they came for me, and my parents told them I was dead. They sent me off-planet to stay with family for the week, just to make sure they couldn’t track me.”

“Smart. Although, letting an untrained Force-sensitive run around to wreak havoc on everyone and everything probably wasn’t the best call.”

“I guess my folks weren’t thinking long-term.”

Vader laughs at this. The sound doesn’t reassure you. “It’s been a few years since I’ve seen someone with your…potential.”

“Could that be because you killed all of them?” you ask dryly. He rolls his eyes, but thankfully doesn’t cause you any more pain.

“It’s been even longer since I’ve had an apprentice.”

Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize what he’s implying, and you can feel the cold sweat that begins to form. “I don’t need to be trained. I don’t want to be trained. Especially by you.”

“Think about all that you could accomplish by honing your skills! You could become great, Y/n.” You don’t recall telling him your name—had he gleaned it from looking through your head? Or had it been the Gungans themselves who had betrayed you and sent you to this fate the moment you touched down on Naboo?

“I don’t need you in order to be great.”

Something dark—darker than what you’ve already seen from him—crosses Darth Vader’s face. You’ve angered him by turning him down, and some part of you knows that people who anger him don’t live to see another rotation. His gloved hand hovers above the hilt of his lightsaber, your heart thundering in your chest at the action.

Instead of removing the lightsaber, igniting it, and slicing you in half, Vader simply fiddles with its position on his belt, like some sort of coping mechanism while he thinks. He turns away from you, looking back at his discarded helmet on the table next to the door. You remain silent during these long few minutes, too scared to speak up and ask him why he’s decided to change tactics. Then, he turns around. By the smile on his face, you’re almost wishing that he stayed facing the door.

“Let’s play a little game.” Vader’s hand flexes and your restraints unlock. You fall to the ground, catching yourself on your hands and knees. Your limbs tingle at the sudden unrestricted movement, and you have to give yourself a second before you can push yourself up to a standing position again. “You hide and try to escape, and I seek. If you win, you walk away from here free. If I win, you become my apprentice.”

“And if I don’t want to play?”

He grins. “You don’t get a choice.”

That’s what you were expecting him to say, yet there was a part of you hoping that he wouldn’t. Vader glances behind him, opening the door at his command.

“I’ll even give you a head start.”

If you don’t go, you’re conceding defeat before you can even start, and you won’t allow him to have you without a fight. You look back at Vader one more time, who teasingly motions with his hands for you to get going, before sprinting out of the door. A pair of stormtroopers stare at you as you pass them, but they don’t follow. You don’t stick around to hear if Vader’s telling them not to shoot you.

(When the Troopers hesitantly peer into the room you were being held prisoner in to say, “Sir, the prisoner has escaped. Should we engage?” Darth Vader does, in fact, tell them that they do not have permission to engage and that they should leave this to him)

You round a random corner to make sure that you’re far enough away to have this crucial second before pausing. Your hands fumble for the inner lining of your jacket, and you rip apart the loose seams to pull out the emergency homing signal that all members of the rebellion are sent on missions with. The button is pressed once, twice, three times, which is all the time you’ll allow yourself before you’re running again to try and find some way out of here. The pipes along the top of the wall serve as your guide; you know that they’ll lead somewhere, whether it be an electrical hub that you can sabotage or an exit.

“Rebel,” a voice echoes through the halls further than a voice should reasonably be able to echo. The surprise of it sends you screeching to a stop as your head swivels from left to right in an attempt to see how he’s caught up to you already. When you see that he isn’t, in fact, anywhere near, it becomes clear that he’s projecting to you.

“Stay out of my head!” He’ll hear you even though you’ve whispered it under your breath. After all, if there’s one thing you know about the Sith, it’s that their powers are frightening and limitless.

“Mm, no. I don’t think I will.” Back to sprinting you go, following the pipes and begging your feet to move faster and faster until it feels like you’re hardly touching the ground. “Your shields are impressive for someone with such little training. Once I find you, we’ll work to make sure that they’re impenetrable.”

“Like this?”

A Jedi who had escaped Order 66 and ended up joining the Rebel Alliance, Dia Dorvin took you under her wing when she recognized that there was another Force-sensitive within the ranks. Though there wasn’t much she could train you on, having just barely achieved the rank of Jedi Knight before the fall of the Republic, she tried her best to help you at least hone your skills. Dia would be proud of the way you use her gentle voice to remind you to slam shut the proverbial steel doors of your mind that Vader has managed to slip through. Your mind goes blissfully silent, and you wish you could see the look on his face when he’s realized that you’ve shut him out without his ‘training.’

The loading hangar is devoid of any life when you make it, and only a few droids beep at you when you hit the button to open the hangar doors to give you any indication at all that they recognize your presence. When the door begins to open, you see lava and obsidian outside. Interesting that Darth Vader decided to build his home base on the same planet where he allegedly killed his former master, though that may be more due to the circumstance of an inhospitable planet serving as a good hideout then some sort of poetic justice.

Before you can run past the TIE Fighters and numerous other ships whose makes you couldn’t begin to name, the sound of heavy boots echoes at the back of the room. Considering the stormtroopers are much lighter on their feet to maintain the element of surprise, there’s only one person those footsteps could belong to. Even without that knowledge, your intuition just knows who’s coming. You dive behind a pile of shipping containers, snatching an iron bar from one of the work tables as you do so.

Your breathing is too loud, too scared, and you slap a hand over your mouth to try and keep quiet. Vader’s moving slowly through the hangar, listening carefully for any sign of you. A droid chirps at him, loud and insistent. The red flash of a lightsaber and the sound of metal being slashed gives you enough of an idea what’s happened to that little droid.

“Where, oh where, could my little rebel be?” Vader’s voice sounds like it’s coming from everywhere, making it impossible for you to tell where he is in the hangar. He lets out a laugh before his sing-song tone says, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

He’s enjoying this, you realize. The sick bastard is hunting you, like a predator stalks their prey, and he’s having fun doing so. You have to move, and now. Slowly, you poke your head out from behind the containers, only to see that Vader isn’t anywhere in your field of vision.

The hairs on the back on your neck stand up, and you tense right before you feel him behind you. “Boo,” he whispers into your ear. You try to jump over the crates, but he grabs you by the back of your shirt and flings you to the ground.

Your back collides harshly with the ground, and you cough as you try to get your breath back. When you can finally breathe again, you look up only to be faced with Vader’s bright-red lightsaber inches away from your face. The heat from it is intense, and trying to be as still as possible only makes you want to involuntarily jerk more.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. For some reason (like, say, the lightsaber currently pointed at you), you highly doubt that. “Come with me, Y/n. Embrace your destiny, who you’re meant to be.”

Keeping eye contact with him, you stretch your fingertips to get the metal bar that you dropped closer to you. Once it’s close enough, you wrap your fingers around it. “Fuck you.”

You swing the bar at Vader with all your strength, making direct contact with the hand that holds his lightsaber. It doesn’t hurt him, but it does catch him off-guard enough that the lightsaber goes flying out of his grasp. Scrambling back up to your feet, you ready yourself to swing once again as he calls his lightsaber back with the Force.

Vader’s other hand stretches towards you, using the Force to stop you from bashing his head in. The bar won’t swing any further, an invisible hand keeping it from moving any more. In the distance, you can hear the distinct sound of a ship exiting hyperdrive.

“I admire your tenacity, but this ends now.”

Suddenly, you see it. Your way out, and your last hope. “You’re right.” You lift your shaking hand in the air towards a control tower. Now, it’s your turn to smile. “This does end now.”

Yanking your hand back towards you, the control tower collapses along with it, like you’re pulling it with an invisible string. Sparks fly from the wires, and Vader is forced to roll out of the way to keep from being crushed under all of the metal. You take your chance and run outside before he can try to get back around the now-destroyed tower.

The Mustafarian heat is immediately oppressing, sweat beading on your brow as you scan the skies. The dot in the distance quickly becomes an actual ship—a Rebel Alliance ship. The back of the ship opens, and the familiar faces of your friends and comrades appear. They’re yelling for you to hurry, holding their hands out as the pilot drops as close to the ground as they can.

Your legs are burning from the exertion of having to run for your life yet again, a stitch forming in your side as you extend your hand and jump. Though the crew is not Force-sensitive, you trust them with your life…literally. Yet again they come through, a hand grabbing onto yours and ensuring that you won’t fall.

Rip and Oona, two of your fellow Rebels, each grab an arm and haul you up onto the ship. They’re hanging onto you like you’re going to turn to smoke and slip out of their hands. Given the circumstances that have led to this moment, you don’t exactly blame them.

“Kriff, Y/n, are you okay?” Rip is frantically looking you up and down, checking for any sign of injury.

“Yeah, we were sure you were a goner!” Oona adds.

“I’m good. Let’s just get out of here.”

“On it!” Voth yells from the pilot’s seat up front.

As the back of the ship closes and the crew springs to prepare to again enter hyperdrive back to the Rebel Alliance base you’ve all been stationed at, you can’t help but look down at Vader’s fortress. Sure enough, you see a tall, broad silhouette staring up at your ship. Just before you lose sight of him, you hear his voice in your head one last time.“You may have won the battle. But I promise you, my little Rebel, that I will win this war.”

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