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lupinmoonlight · 8 months

Note

Could you do smth like they meet again after years??? She's a professor and he too so she saw him at the first day in the great hall and after that they run into each other in the teachers' room. They were friends when they went to school and they were always attractedby each other.

Thank you and btw I love your writing:)

Lost and Found

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You and Remus Lupin had a crush on each other ever since you were students at Hogwarts but never had the courage to even speak. You spend the next 20 years living your separate lives, you as an Auror, and he, just surviving. Unable to live under the stress of your profession anymore, you retire and start teaching at Hogwarts, still hoping to fill the void Remus had left behind. In September 1993, everything changes. (3,190 words)

Warnings - Fluff, cheesy, angst, a bit of hurt/comfort, a bit of self-hatred, kissing, mention of wizarding war and lost of loved ones, my grammar (english is not my first language), not proof read.

Notes - I am almost ashamed of posting this considering I received this request over a month ago. I am so sorry anon, I have been traveling all of August. Thank you so much for your request and kind comment. I hope you like this one! (sorry if it's too cheesy I got carried away lol)

June 1978

One last glance, that's all you wanted. You pulled your hair back, looking discreetly across the Great Hall. As always, Remus was there, just a few seats away. He looked sad, just as sad as you, but it couldn't be for the same reason. The warm, golden rays of the sun reached through the windows and danced across his face, as if the sky itself was trying to comfort him. It graced his scars, making them glow a beautiful shade of gold. You were doomed. Absolutely doomed. And sad. And in love. And doomed.

You would always sit close, steal glances, exchange the occasional smile in the library. You had become experts at unsaid conversations, your hearts screaming out words that your lips never uttered. 7 years of unspoken love, of quick glances, of butterflies in your stomach, of hoping he would sit next to you in potions, of worrying when he would disappear for a few days. You knew why, it was easy enough to figure out for anyone who paid close attention. But you didn't care. You loved him for 7 years. 7 years that were about to be ripped away from you.

Remus felt your gaze and looked up. Your eyes met, and for a split second, time seemed to stop. You wanted to say something. I love you. But the lump in your throat held your words hostage. The weight of the impending silent goodbye threatened to shatter the fragile world you had created.

As breakfast came to an end, you all began your journey towards Hogwarts Express. The station was alive with chatter, laughter, and tearful goodbyes. But amidst the chaos, there were two souls whose worlds had never been more silent.

You found yourself in a compartment and gazed out the window, lost in thoughts, watching what had become your second home for 7 years slowly disappear in the distance. Every time the train jolted, you wished it would be Remus entering your compartment, as if he would be braver than you. Why didn't you go to his compartment? You were a coward that's why. Because being rejected would hurt more than saying goodbye.

Remus sat a few compartments away, his heart pounding in his chest. Despite the presence of his three best friends, he felt alone. The knowledge that this journey might be his last with you was gnawing at his soul.

The train finally pulled into King's Cross, and students disembarked, eagerly searching for their families. You made your way through the crowd, hoping, stupidly praying for one last moment with Remus. As you approached the barrier between the platform and the muggle world, you took a deep breath and looked back. And there he was, Remus, looking just as lost as you felt. Your eyes met across the platform, and everything went quiet, blurry.

You crossed the barrier and found yourself on the muggle side of the platform and looked back once more, catching a fleeting glimpse of Remus, who seemed to be vanishing amidst the crowd. You felt a visceral ache. A lump formed in your throat, stubborn and solid, just as you had been during those 7 years, refusing to admit your feelings. You hated yourself. Coward, you kept telling yourself. But you loved him. Was teenage love supposed to be this painful? Because if yes, you were done with it. Never again, you thought. You wiped away the unshed tears from your eyes, put on your most determined face on, and went to your parents waiting in the crowd. You had a career to build, and Aurors were not made of lovesick teenagers.

1981 - 1991

After graduating, the world outside Hogwarts proved to be colder and crueler than you had imagined. The First Wizarding War was a brutal, heart-wrenching time. As planned, you took the path of an Auror, but not for the same reasons you had wanted. Rather, it was in a desperate attempt to right the world's wrongs, to lose yourself, to numb yourself. It was your refuge, but it was also a painful reminder of the war's cost, a daily confrontation with terror and death. Was Remus alive? The question gnawed at you the moment you opened your eyes every morning. It consumed you. You had not seen each other in over 10 years, but the mere thought of him losing his life felt like someone was ripping you open with their bare hands, no magic. Maybe that's what drove you, in the end, to be an Auror. Stupid teenage love.

The horrors of your profession haunted you every night. You had been dishonest with yourself. Sure, you wanted to "right the world's wrongs". But really, every time you were out on a mission, you were looking for him, the boy, now man, with sandy hair, with golden scars, with the softest voice, kindest eyes, shyest smile. But he was never there. So you gave up and did everything you could to bury every memory of him as deep as possible, unreachable, and decided to try and go teach other lovesick teenagers. At least then, you would feel at home.

And home, you were. The old headmaster was still there, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. Professor McGonagall, head of your house years ago, welcomed you back with the expression of a proud mother. In her eyes, you had made it. You had been successful. An Auror retiring to teach young witches and wizards. But you didn't feel successful, you felt broken, empty. And the only other colleague who seemed to reflect that void was Severus. You had been surprised to see him as a teacher. The man had always been isolated, grim-looking, sad. He reminded you of a dementor, and maybe that's why you enjoyed sharing a cup of tea with this old classmate in the staff room, to torture yourself and forget about your lost love. Had he really been a dementor, you don't even think you would have been affected because all that was left was nothing. Longing. Hurt. Despair.

Yet, in your first term as a teacher, you had this stupid hope. Maybe. Maybe Remus would walk through the Great Hall. Of all four troublemakers, he was the prefect, after all. Of course he would be a teacher. You had been so obsessed with this idea that you started losing sleep months before the term started. You surveyed the staff table like a hawk, looking for him. You were going mad. Here you were, grown, accomplished, yet still obsessing over your teenage love, retracing your steps through the halls like you used to 20 years ago to catch only a glimpse of him. Except now you knew he wouldn't be there.

September 1993

You sat at the long staff table, your eyes idly scanning the crowd of eager young faces gathered in the Great Hall. You were numb. Not even waiting for anything anymore. Just going through the motions. Professor McGonagall had just finished calling out the names of the first-year students when the staff entrance at the side of the Hall creaked open.

You turned your head reflexively, expecting another late-arriving student or perhaps a staff member who'd lost track of time. What you did not expect was the sight that greeted you, freezing you in your seat.

A man stepped into the Great Hall, pausing for a moment to soak in the ambiance as if he too were revisiting old memories. Older and more weathered than you remembered, his sandy hair was now tinged with grey, and his face bore scars that were definitely not there during your Hogwarts years. His robes, though neat, were faded and had seen better days. But it was his eyes- those gentle blue eyes, filled with a unique blend of sorrow and kindness- that told you everything you needed to know.

Remus.

Your heart was pounding so loud in your chest that you were sure the entire Hall could hear it. The moment his eyes met yours, he too froze in place, as if the mere sight of you had rooted him to the ground. A mixture of emotions swirled in his gaze- surprise, confusion, and something softer, more intimate, that you hadn't seen in anyone's eyes for a long time.

Tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden but not unwelcome, as you shared a look so intense, it was as if no one else existed. A look that whispered of years lost, of what could have been, and- perhaps- of what still might be. Not a word was spoken, but in that moment, volumes were said, a dialogue only you could understand.

The gravity of the moment was so strong that you barely registered Remus moving again, navigating his way through the Hall to join the staff at the table. As he sat down beside you, the familiar scent of him struck you like a freight train- parchment, coffee, and a hint of pine trees. It was intoxicating, transporting you back to a simpler time, back to late-night study sessions and furtive glances. Your cheeks flushed as you realized that the empty chair next to you would be his for the entire year. There you were, a lovesick teenager again.

You found yourself struggling to maintain your composure as Dumbledore rose to his feet to introduce the new staff member.

"Before we continue, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J Lupin, who's kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he announced, his eyes twinkling as he gestured towards Remus.

The students erupted into applause as Remus stood up awkwardly, a sheepish smile on his face. You found yourself unable to clap, your hands trembling in your lap as you watched him. It was surreal to see him here, after all these years.

As soon as the ceremony ended, before the feast even began, Remus got up from his seat and made his way out of the Great Hall almost immediately, without saying a word. He looked almost...flustered? Impossible, you thought. YOU were flustered. How could he be?

For days after your wordless reunion, you and Remus moved in parallel orbits, close yet never intersecting. The tension between you was palpable; an emotional undercurrent that resonated through every stolen glance and momentary brush of your eyes. You would catch him staring at you across the Great Hall during meals, only for him to look away, flustered, when you met his gaze. He would spot you in the corridors, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Professor McGonagall, but he knew you were acutely aware of his presence.

You both longed to talk, to share the feelings that had overwhelmed you during that first eye contact, yet you were both paralyzed by a mix of fear, vulnerability, and the weight of years that had gone by. Remus, scarred by the war, lost everyone he loved most, was terribly afraid of loving again. And you, scarred by years of void, searching, numbing, were terribly afraid of being rejected.

The tension reached its peak one fateful evening when you found yourselves alone in the staff room. You had come to fetch some papers you had left behind, while Remus had sought the space for its quiet ambiance to prepare for his next lesson. As you entered, you were met by the aroma of ancient books, polished wood, and a hint of brewing tea. Remus was standing there, looking startled but then quickly regaining his composure.

"Ah, good evening," he stuttered, his voice tinged with the nervousness he felt. It was the first time you heard his voice in 20 years. It was deeper, but just as rich, just as soft, making you feel just as weak.

You felt your cheeks flush as you stepped further into the room. "Good evening," you responded, your voice a half-octave higher than you intended.

It was awkward, the air was thick with unspoken sentiments and unanswered questions. Remus cleared his throat and offered a formal, almost painfully awkward introduction.

"You might not remember me, I'm R-"

Might not remember him? Was he dumb? Clueless? Blind? No. He was just a man, you thought.

"I know," you cut him off gently, trying to act as if he had not consumed 99% of your brain capacity for the last 20 years. "I do know, Remus."

The air lightened a little at your words, as if acknowledging your shared history made it easier to breathe. Almost easier.

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?" he offered, trying to navigate the awkwardness that hung in the room.

"Yes, thank you", you agreed, grateful for a way to break the emotional deadlock.

As Remus moved to pour the boiling water into the cups, his hands were less steady than he'd have liked. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to leap out and bridge the gap that had opened up between you over the years. He handed you the cup, your fingers brushed ever so slightly. The contact, though fleeting, sent a rush of warmth surging through you both.

From that day on, you became inseparable- or as inseparable as two Hogwarts professors could be. You found excuses to bump into each other in the hallways, 'accidentally' coinciding your evening strolls by the lake or the Forbidden Forest's edge. You began to steal moments wherever you could- sitting together at meals when you could manage it, pausing in empty classrooms for brief, whispered conversations.

Yet, for all your newfound closeness, you both tiptoed around the deeper emotions and unspoken confessions that hovered in the background. You would catch yourself about to say something too revealing and would quickly pivot the conversation to safer topics. Remus, too, would often find himself on the verge of saying something he feared could ruin everything but would pull back at the last moment, as though treading on dangerous ground.

The late-night strolls became your sanctuary, where the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and your carefully guarded feelings.

"You've changed the curriculum quite a bit," you would say, your eyes sparkling as you discussed his innovative teaching methods.

"And you've managed to make Arithmancy popular. I've never seen so many students signing up for it," he would reply, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to decipher the mysteries hidden behind your eyes.

You would both laugh, the tension easing for a moment, yet neither of you would take that final, daunting step to acknowledge the flame that had been rekindled and now burned almost painfully.

It was a dance you both had perfected, a dangerous game you played. And though you circled around your feelings, it was clear to you both that this delicate balance couldn't last forever. It was as if you were students again. Desperate, lovesick, terrified teenagers.

And you couldn't take it anymore. You wouldn't. That night, the air was particularly cold, the air crisp, and the half-moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds.

"It's been weeks, Remus. Weeks since you came back into my life," you began, your voice shaky. "We keep circling around each other like we're afraid of something."

"Afraid?" Remus responded, trying to maintain his composure. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Isn't there?" You looked up, your eyes meeting his. "Then why haven't you touched me? Why haven't we talked about what's really going on between us? Why haven't you invited me out for a coffee?"

Remus looked away, visibly wrestling with himself. "I can't. I can't give you what you want."

The raw pain in his voice struck you, and you felt your own eyes brimming with tears. "And what do you think I want, Remus? Is it so wrong to want to be with you? Or am I not good enough for you?"

He took a deep breath, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You deserve someone better, someone who can be there for you in all the ways I can't."

That was it. The dam of emotions you'd been holding back for years finally burst. "Better? Do you have any idea how many nights I've lain awake wondering if you were even alive? Do you know how terrifying it is to love someone and not know if they're dead or alive, Remus?"

Your words struck him to his core. Of course, he knew what it felt like. He had lived it for 20 years.

Your voice had risen to almost a scream, your body shaking as you confronted him, assaulted him with your words. "All those years, I never had the courage to approach you, to tell you how I felt. We lost all that time, and now here you are, yet you've never felt so out of reach."

Remus couldn't look at you. His gaze was fixed on the ground, and he seemed to be shrinking into himself. "You don't understand. I'm not good for you."

"Why? Because you're a werewolf?" you snapped, the words tumbling out of you before you could stop them.

Remus's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock.

"I've known since Hogwarts, Remus. And I never cared. Are you blind? All I've wanted for the past 20 years was to be with you, to even just see you, to-"

Before you could say another word, Remus closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you against a tree. Your eyes met for a split second- a second filled with anger, surprise, confusion, but above all, an overwhelming love- and his lips crashed into yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. His hand snaked up to your neck, feeling your pulse, as if he was trying to convince himself that this was real. You pressed your body against him, the heat radiating from him was intoxicating, dizzying.

But then the kiss slowed, its intensity giving way to a slow, loving gentleness, one that you associated with him so much. Remus's hands moved from your neck to cup your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had spilled onto your cheeks. Your hands found their way to his chest, gripping his robes like they were a lifeline, like he would vanish any second.

Finally, you broke the kiss, a little out of breath, but remained close, your foreheads touching. "I'm sorry," Remus whispered, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for all the years we lost, for all the pain I've caused you."

You shook your head, your eyes searching his. "We can't get back the years we've lost, but we have now, Remus. That has to count for something."

He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since the war, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility for a future- a future filled with love, warmth, and a happiness he had never thought he'd deserve.

"Okay," he said softly, the word heavy with the weight of the promise it carried.

"Okay," you repeated.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #professor remus lupin #professor remus lupin x reader #marauders #golden trio era #hp fic #sorry it's so cheesy idk what got into me

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2baabbies · 2 months

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skz bingo; #7, she/her pronouns, with chan?? maybe some sort of bookstore meet cute where reader can't reach a certain book that's on a shelf just out of her reach, but chan is a little taller than her so he manages to crowd against her back and grab the book for her?? 👀 I don't mind either sfw or nsfw, whichever feels like it fits the fic best!

my dear, I couldn’t make chan taller for fear of excluding the tall girlies ;w; but I think I still worked it in well. and I hope you like hyunlix, because they’re in the background fulfilling my bookkeeper/florist couple fantasies. I also split the difference between n/sfw with extraflirty!chan, enjoyyy 🫶🏻

🖤 read me like a book (bangchan x reader) 🖤

Pairings: chan x reader, background hyunlix

Words: 1170 (I gave up on the world limit)

Humour + Suggestive (no smut) + Fluff

fem!reader

Request guidelines here!

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Felix has been flirting with Hyunjin for over ten minutes, which is only a problem for you because he is sitting on the only ladder in the entire bookstore. The shop owner sits on the middle rungs as the florist leans against the wall and dramatically tells him about his morning. Felix clutches the bundle of white and yellow daffodils Hyunjin brought for him to his chest with a dreamy smile.

Residing on one of the upper shelves, out of your reach, is a new romance novel that you came to purchase. You steal a glance at Hyunjin and Felix, then continue glaring at your target. Now, it was not just the minor inconvenience souring your mood, but the envy of seeing the two men together. You felt incredibly unlucky in comparison to the perfect couple chatting away in the corner. You were tired of reading about romance, and more than ready to find it for yourself.

The tips of your fingers just brush the spine of one of the copies as you try again, and you sigh in defeat. Climbing the shelf would be entirely too hazardous, although you are getting desperate enough at this point to try it. You had been waiting for this book for months. But, as miserable as you were, you refused to interrupt Felix and Hyunjin.

“Hey there,” You look over your shoulder to face the man that speaks to you, “You, uh, look like you could use a little help?”

“I’ve got it.”

The speed in which you turn away is criminal. The stranger is incredibly handsome, and you would be damned if you let the cutest man to ever walk into this bookstore see the smut you were trying to pull off the shelf. He clears his throat gently and you peek over your shoulder at him.

“Hm, are you sure? I’ve got to grab something up there anyway.”

“O-Okay. I-If you wouldn’t mind…”

You are about to move when the man drops a stepstool behind you and springs onto it with ease. He braces one hand over your shoulder and leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he grabs the books. Your breath catches as he hops down again, and you will yourself to breathe as you turn around. You inhale sharply as he does not hand the book over to you, but flips through it instead. He then reads that lovely little page of content warnings- mainly kinks- listed by the author at the beginning of the book.

Your face burns as he hums and casually places it in your hand.

“Here’s your book.”

“It’s not mine,” You blurt quickly.

“Oh? Did you want a different one?”

You clutch it to your chest.

“N-No! I-I’m buying it… for my friend. I don’t read this stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” There is a troublesome little glint in his eye, “That’s a shame. That author is quite popular. Maybe you should give it a try?”

You squirm under his playful gaze. You wish you could just melt into the bookcase to escape this conversation.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“It’s not… realistic…”

His eyebrows quirk but he looks satisfied with your answer. Felix interrupts the tense moment as he begins leaving the bookstore with Hyunjin.

“Hey, Chan, I’m taking my break now. You got an eye on the cash?”

“Yeah, mate, you’re good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Hyunjin gives you an excited wave, which you return shyly, as Felix adds:

“Oh, y/n, I put a book aside for you. It’s behind the counter. Chan, her name is on it.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you,” You murmur.

The doorbell chimes as the door falls shut behind them, and you are left alone with Chan. He kicks up the stepstool and catches it one hand.

“Well, y/n,” He coos in his lovely accent, “I’ll be at the cash if you need anything. Give me a shout if you have any questions, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

He winks and walks behind the counter, settling in and opening the book he pulled from the shelf. You stall for a bit, then steel your nerves and approach the checkout. Chan sets his book aside and smiles as you set yours on the counter. He finds the book Felix set aside for you, and it is the exact same book you pulled from the shelf.

The road to Hell is truly paved with good intentions.

Chan pauses then coyly asks, “I guess you don’t want two of these, hm?”

You puff your cheeks.

“No.”

He chuckles and begins ringing up your purchase.

“Okay, I won’t tease you anymore. You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

He side-eyes you playfully.

“Alright. Are you paying with cash or card?”

“Cash.”

You quickly pull the bill from your pocket and hand it to Chan. You are both quiet as he makes your change then hands it back to you. You count it then furrow your brow gently.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, it seems… You gave me extra.”

He checks the receipt then looks at your hand as you hold it out to him.

“No, it’s right.”

“You gave me a discount?”

You drop the change in your pocket and accept the book and receipt as he hands them to you.

“Of course. Pretty girls shouldn’t have to pay full price.”

You fluster.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me anymore?”

He rests his chin in his hand and leans his elbows on the counter with a smirk.

“That wasn’t teasing. That was flirting.”

You clutch the book to your chest and duck your blushing face.

“Well…”

He giggles and the charming sound startles you to look up again.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I-It’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Uh, you don’t have to stop.”

Chan smiles warmly.

“Only if you like it.”

“I, um, I do.”

“Okay then. Well, I hope your friend likes the book.”

“It’s almost worse when you pretend you don’t know…”

“Well, for the record, I believed you a little bit.”

“Sure.”

“I did,” He purrs, “And I would agree with you. I tried to read those books but they weren’t really my thing.”

“You did?”

“Mhm, like you said: it wasn’t realistic. If you’d like an example of something more realistic though, I’d be happy to show you.”

You roll your eyes as a grin breaks out on his face. Although he delivered the line with confidence, his whole face is flushed like yours.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

Chan winks as you walk away.

“Have a good day!”

You rush out of the bookstore and pause outside as you notice something sticking out of the book you just purchased. You flip it open to see a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it. You look through the window of the bookstore to see Chan, giving you a fluttery wave as you piece it all together. You huff and cover your face as you stomp away, but you cannot suppress your charmed smile.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fic requests #skz fic requests #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #hyunlix

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fluffthecloud · 1 year

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Their Soulmate

Weasley Twins x Male Reader

Summary: Reader has one big soulmate mark on his back instead of a small one on his arm like most people in Hogwarts. He didn't know why but didn't really took mind to it. Now he got put in Hufflepuff, but somehow became friends with the mischievous twin gingers, mainly because they rode on the train together.

Genre:Fluff

Request: ❌

Warnings: N/A

Notes: This is based off a story on AO3 that had the reader as trans post top surgery. This is a Soulmate AU and at this time people didn't really know what polyamory was so everyone thought you had one soulmate.

Tags: @jasperthechaosgremlin pt. 2 pt.3

Y/N got his letter at any normal age Wizards gets theirs. Though his parents weren't too happy, they were envious. Y/N's parents always wanted to go to Hogwarts but they never gotten a letter, so like any other person that never gotten a letter, they went to another magic school that thought the same things just at a lower level.

Y/N had everything he needed nothing more nothing less, so with a few clothes for weekends and things to do in his free time he didn't have much, plus some money for snacks on the train and if he were to buy anything while at Hogwarts.

He was left at the train station by his parents after they told him where to go, he was a bit confused by this and their behavior after he got the letter. Y/N follows their directions to platform 9¾, and he was a bit confused as he was met with a pillar, a brick pillar. "Oh hello there young man!" A sweet voice said behind him, making him turn around, that's when he saw the gingers.

"Hi." He replied back smiling "am I in your way?" He asked moving slightly just in case he was.

"Oh no you are fine, but are you lost?" The lady asked, "oh where are my manners, I'm Molly Weasley, and these are my children, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny." She pointed at each one. (It took me too long to do simple math to see if Ron and Ginny would be kids or babies around this time)

"I'm Y/N L/N, by any chance do you know how to get to platform 9¾?" He asked hoping to not look like a dumbass and that he kids also got a letter.

"Yeah! You just run through the pillar, and then poff your there at the platform!" One of the twins said, Y/N being unsure which one.

"We got our letter a few weeks ago this is our first year!" The other one said, they really need name tags it would be so helpful.

"It's also my first year." Y/N said cheerfully, "so you just run into the pillar?" He asked looking back at Molly.

"Oh right, you'll miss the train, hurry hurry." One by one the red heads ran through, with you following right behind after saying thanks to Molly.

After getting on the train, you find a cabinet to sit in it was completely empty, so you put you bags in the over hang before taking a seat to silently stare out the window. Not long after you hear some commotion just before the cabinet door slides open to reveal none other than Percy, Fred and George. "L/N so nice to see you again!" Percy chimes, "hope you don't mind us joining you."

"Not at all, come sit." You say with a small smile before looking out the window again. But you soon look back to see the twins fighting for the spot next to you, only for Percy to take it, "if you can't share then neither of you can get it." He said as the two sat across from you.

The train ride was very chatty, mainly the twins trying to strike up conversation with you which worked, you really enjoyed their company. Time seemed to fly by fast because before you knew it you were at you stop, so you got your things and followed the Weasley's off the train.

After the boat ride everyone was now in the dinning hall. Everyone was called up one by one, then it was finally your turn "L/N Y/N!" McGonagall called, which in return you walked right up. You took your seat in the chair that was everyone's attention at that point, which made you feel a bit nervous, which made you forget that you were getting sorted into a house, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat yelled, and thanks to being out of it for a minute you jumped and the Hufflepuff table cheered.

As the last of the people got sorted into their houses you made some small talk with the other people at your table. That was over very quickly though because after dinner you were told to follow some person called prefect, apparently they are in charge of us getting to the dorm by lights out. Everyone was lead to their dorms and then it was lights out.

#harry potter #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #hogwarts #soulmate au #soulmate marks #male reader #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey x reader #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x male reader

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doublesunsets · 11 months

Text

Experiment 002

Tech x Reader PWP - NSFW - Explicit Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: If he thought that your pleasure was worth exploring, you were not going to contradict him. If his analytical mind found your moans interesting enough, you will provide them gladly.

Warnings: reader POV, smut, oral sex female receiving, liberal use of the word 'fascinating', (slightly) overstimulation, did I say smut? Self-indulgent smut

Author's note: Still, I don't even know, mate. Some people asked for seconds, and who am I to get in the way of science. I gave Tech a hair-pulling kink, I'm not sorry. There's no beta, I apologise if there are any mistakes. I also apologise for my pretensions of knowing how to write sex, I'm just trying to have fun. -Sunset

part I & part III

✩ AO3 link

You stood on your toes at the top of the lifting platform, trying to force the hydrospanner to move with the weight of your body, but the angle wasn’t right, and you groaned out loud in frustration. You twisted your body trying to find a good position, but inside the hull there wasn’t that much space around, so when you hit your elbow against some metal part you retaliated saying something about its mother. You were definitely not throwing your frustration at the ship, not of course.

The Havoc Marauder was stationed at the outskirts of a nice and quiet city that the squad knew to be safe. It had been a couple of intense weeks, some bounty hunter had got sight of the group and there had been some pretty nasty gunfights, but it was all solved now. They were not coming back for any of you. Not for anyone else, for that matter. Besides some scratches already healed, everyone got out of it unscathed, and you were glad for it, you really were. It was a time to feel happy and not other feelings were in the way. You were definitely not mourning the lack of alone time with Tech, not of course.

When everyone decided to go into the city earlier, Tech announced that he wanted to run a diagnostics on his ship, just to make sure everything was in pristine conditions. As you noticed that Echo was about to volunteer to stay back with him, you stopped him, and told him that you would do it, no problem at all, and even if he hesitated at first, Omega grabbing his hand was all he needed to concede. Tech had been crouched over his datapad already and didn’t notice any of the exchange, so when you let him know that you had stayed behind to help, he startled at your voice, his eyes wide behind his goggles. You let him space, and went to check your usual things, while he kept looking at you, datapad clutched in his hands, like a mynock in headlights. You were definitely not expecting him to be overwhelmed by scientific curiosity again, not of course.

So far he had been busy plugging and checking, and paying little to no attention to you, but that was to expect. You were quite sure that this piece of junk, that was definitely not mocking you right now, came first to him. Your only hope was that once he finished all his tasks, you came second, and judging by the small movement of the platform, you were right.

“It seems you are having difficulties up there,” Tech’s voice came from some place in front of you, outside the hull.

“I cannot reach it properly!” you growled at the bolt. “The angle is wrong, so I don’t have enough leverage.”

“I have already finished with my diagnostics, allow me to help you.”

“I don’t think we can both fit in here, Tech, don’t wo–,” two firm hands on your hips made you gasp and you almost bit your tongue.

“Two work better than one, darling.” He had climbed onto the platform and was pushing you a little, so he could squeeze himself in between you and the ship. You looked down and instantly regretted it, the visual of Tech on his knees grasping your hips was more than you could handle at the moment with the limited oxygen you had inside the hull.

He pushed himself inside, his head and shoulders managing to fit in, up to your stomach. Your shirt had slid up from your movements, and now his breath was hitting your skin, making your heart pound so hard that it was hard to listen to what he was saying.

“I am quite positive that I can lift you up enough and stabilise you, so you can secure the bolt. Are you prepared?”

“Yes, I–” you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath to focus your thoughts. “Sure, I am ready.”

You were not.

Tech surrounded your hips and looped his arms under your butt, and then stood slowly, lifting you carefully. He was basically hugging you, your mind unhelpfully provided, his face pressed against your stomach, and your left hand flew to his head to ground you.

“Can you reach it properly now?” His words were spoken directly into you, his breath scorching your skin.

You gulped and forced yourself to look up again, trying to locate the blasted bolt. “Yes, I can. Just, don’t move.” Without thinking, you grasped his head more firmly, his soft hair between your fingers, and focused on your task.

Certainly it was easier from this angle. On the other hand, it was harder, mostly because you were hyper-aware of Tech’s strong arms hugging your thighs and his breath tickling your navel. You attached the hydrospanner to the bolt and started unscrewing it.

“This is a very intimate position,” Tech’s voice broke your concentration, and you almost dropped the hydrospanner on his head.

You snorted. “Are you realising that just now?”

“I searched for the most efficient way of helping you, I didn’t stop to think about the logistics of it, nor the consequences of you grabbing my hair either, if I’m being honest.”

“The consequences of–” You stopped and finished removing the loose bolt, changing it for the new one in your pocket. When it was done, you grabbed Tech’s hair again, this time a little bit harder, and he hissed. “What kind of consequences, Tech?”

“It seems that proximity to your skin intoxicates my senses,” he muttered almost to himself.

Oh, you knew this tone of voice already. His voice was sharper, meticulous, as calculations rolled around in his mind. You looked down at him, but he was not looking at you, his forehead leaned on your stomach.

“And that’s all?” He didn’t respond, so you tried again. “Are there any other variables, Tech?”

You punctuated your question with another soft tugging of his hair, the vibrations of his moan straight to your core.

“It also seems that I deeply enjoy the sensation of your hand pulling my hair.”

You felt through your grip how he tilted his head and pressed his face further into you, starting to leave kisses on every patch of skin he could reach. He started with small peaks that soon enough evolved into open-mouthed kisses that left a wet trail. The hydrospanner and his head were your only support points, and they were quickly becoming not enough.

“Maker, Tech,” you breathed out his name like a prayer. “I am not complaining, but do you think I could finish this first?”

“You are perfectly capable of carrying on with your task with what I am doing right now.”

As if to exemplify the opposite of his point, Tech ran his tongue slowly through your navel, and you let out a frustrated groan. His assumptions about how capable you were of working while he was kissing your stomach were highly inaccurate, and as he bit your hipbone, you jerked on his embrace, your hand slipping from the handle of your tool, that luckily stayed secured by its hold on the bolt. He continued kissing and biting at a leisurely pace, completely oblivious of the magnitude of his effect on you. You took another deep breath and managed to take hold of the hydrospanner again, finishing tightening the bolt.

“Okay,” you let him know with a trembling voice, patting his head. “Job’s done, let me down.”

Tech crouched again on the platform floor and took you down with him, but after the tension, your legs failed you, and you fell on your knees the moment he released you. He quickly held you again, stopping your fall, and secured you against his chest. He searched your eyes, a look of concern on his face, but before he could say anything you took the momentum and closed the distance, kissing his lips firmly. Without hesitation, his arms tightened around you, rendering yours useless, trapped between your bodies. When you moved your head back, there was a nice blush on his cheeks, and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Did you enjoy the sensation of my lips as well?” You asked him cheekily.

“I am going to need more evidence,” his dazed voice made you smile, but it was short-lived.

He pounced at you and kissed your smile away, leaving only fire. Tech didn’t do anything half-heartedly, and that included kissing. You freed your arms and crept them around his neck while he moved his lips against yours with an insistence that made you arch your back, his firm embrace the only thing keeping you upright. Your fingers entangled with his hair once more, and you were definitely taking a liking to this recently discovered outcome, taking advantage of his gasp to intrude his mouth with your tongue and taste him in an experiment of your own. Your mind couldn’t grasp how such a sharp tongue could be so warm and soft, pliant at your motions, and you could have stayed there, under the open hull of the Marauder, kissing him forever, if it weren’t for his comlink going off at your back.

He moved away and answered over your shoulder, Hunter’s voice coming loud and clear from his vambrace, “Tech. How are those repairs going?”

“Problem?” His clipped tone sounded annoyed, and you started kissing his jawline. Hopefully, the comm didn’t catch his gasp.

“No, no problem at all. We just found a nice place, and were going to grab something decent for once, you two coming?”

“No. I haven’t— we haven’t finished yet. There is no reason to wait for us.” You raised your eyebrows, surprised, but he didn’t look at you.

“Sure, see you later then.” Hunter sounded wary, but didn’t mention anything else and closed the communication.

“I thought you had finished already with the diagnostics,” you observed innocently.

“That is correct. Nonetheless, there is another pressing matter at the moment that requires my attention.”

“Is that so? Another experiment?”

“Indeed. I just thought about something and would like to test a theory.”

“Which one?”

“I want to check how you cum quicker, with my fingers or my mouth.”

———

Surely all the repairs were done, you hoped, because none of you spared a second glance while going back inside and entering the cockpit. Tech was silent, methodically removing his upper body armour, with a look of concentration of someone who was calculating the best hyperspace route and not the logistics of sex inside a battleship.

You were giddy, your body remembering what it was to be the focus of his attention, currents of electricity travelling through your veins. If he thought that your pleasure was worth exploring, you were not going to contradict him. If his analytical mind found your moans interesting enough, you will provide them gladly. You removed your boots and sat on the pilot chair, turning it to face him, his back to you, and delighted for a moment in the view without the extra layers; even if he hadn't removed his blacks, they left little to the imagination. He looked at you over his shoulder and hummed approvingly at your sitting spot choice.

“What do you want me to do?” Your breathy voice wavered in anticipation, and the corners of his lips turned slightly upward at the sound.

“Well, for the sake of the experiment I am going to need you naked, but allow me,” he strode over you and kneeled on the floor.

Tech reached out and grabbed your knees, blood rushed to your ears while his hands slid up your thighs slowly, until he reached the waist of your trousers. He hooked his fingers under your clothes and tugged both of them down, stopping for you to lift your ass a little, so he could remove them completely. He grabbed your knees again, opening them this time, and the cold air hit your wet cunt, making you hiss between your teeth.

“You are already wet for me, darling. Is it due to the kisses? Or the anticipation?” He glanced at you,

“Ah, both, I guess. Your hands on my skin are also helping,” you breathed out, eyeing how those hands drew patterns on the inside of your thighs.

“I see.” He grabbed your thigh tightly, his fingers pressing enough to make indentations but stopping on the good side of hurting. “Do you like my hands, then?”

“Maker, yes.”

“Yes, of course you do,” he tugged, stopping when you were on the edge of the seat. “But for the sake of science, we have to deviate from what we already know. The search for knowledge is insatiable, you know?”

A shudder went through your body at his words, and instinctively opened your legs further, exposing yourself more and giving him all the permission he needed. Not that he seemed to hesitate at his actions, his movements had the usual confidence with which he carried himself, even if under his googles you could see him blushing at your reaction. His whole demeanour was a mixture of cockiness and vulnerability, and it made you want to submit and coddle him in equal parts. You reached with your hand to his jawline, crooking your fingers under his chin.

“And what about you, Tech?” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “Can you be satisfied?”

To your surprise, he shook his head, “Not in the slightest, darling. Since the first time you allowed me to touch you, I have come to realise that I will always want more, you are too fascinating,” your chest tightened, and a whimper escaped your lips. “Right now, though, I’ll be satisfied as soon as I see you come in my mouth.”

He bowed his head and started kissing up your leg to the apex of your thigh, and stopped there, looking up at you, gauging your reaction. His hot breath hit your cunt, and you squirmed, breathing heavily, unable to stay still. Those brown eyes were scrutinizing you, as if he was trying to discover the very fibre of your existence, it made you feel drunk of a liquor never tasted, seeing him there, kneeled between your legs, his hands clutching your thighs like a lifeline, and for a moment you had the illusion of being the only creature in the galaxy who could capture his attention.

You were not far from begging him to move, forward or backward, you didn’t care, but being on the edge of falling was making your whole body tremble. Your mouth opened, but before you could utter a word, he turned his head and gave an open-mouthed kiss to your cunt, turning your begging into a loud moan.

“Fascinating,” he spoke without moving back, his lips spelling the word into you, and the shiver that went down your spine left you trying to grasp into something, so you wouldn’t slide down to the floor. “Such a good experiment subject, such a good girl.”

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words, while he took one of your hands and put it on his head. A part of you remembered what he told you earlier and instinctively tangled up your fingers into his hair. His tongue delved down into your folds, and you sobbed at his wet heat. He dragged his tongue back to your clit and closed his lips around it, you moaned and pulled, making him close his eyes and groan, the vibrations going straight through your clit.

Tech seemed intent on only using his mouth this time, but you could feel his fingers pressing harder into your skin with every new gasp falling from your lips, inching closer to your core. His whole focus was on you, away from his own body, and he kept sucking your clit and flickering it steadily with his tongue. When your body was starting to get used to the rhythm, on a clear path to your release, he let it go, and you whimpered at the lost.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as he murmured something that didn’t reach your ears and pushed your legs open as far as the pilot seat allowed him. You could feel your wetness and his spit sliding down, and the knowledge of the state you were leaving his seat in pushed shamefully closer to the edge. He licked down around your entrance, dragging his nose against your clit every time he moved his head, and your other hand went to his nape, trying to hold him against you, to pull him impossibly closer. You weren’t sure if he was indulging your unspoken petition or himself, but he then penetrated you with his tongue, and you moaned obscenely loud while he continued fucking you with it.

Your whole body was a tense wire that needed to be released, you were right there teetering on the edge, shaking and vibrating out of your skin, while Tech continued devouring you without restrains. You tried to speak to no avail, the only thing coming out of your mouth a high-pitched whine, so you pulled his hair once more trying to get him up, until his mouth was back on your clit. He closed his lips around it and sucked, and your whine turned into a cry as your orgasm broke free.

You flew above the seat and came back without even moving, your senses coming back to you one by one. The cold durasteel floor under your feet; the leather seat creaking under the pressure of your body; the bright sun coming from the cockpit windows; and Tech’s warm presence still between your legs. He rested his head on your thigh, panting, his mouth and chin glistening, and you whimpered at the visual. He noticed you looking at him, turned his head and gave you a soft kiss, followed by a smile pressed into your skin.

“You were amazing, such a good girl,” his reassuring words distracted you enough that you didn’t notice his creeping fingers, until they reached your centre and played around gathering your wetness. You were too sensitive after your orgasm and recoiled, but he kissed your thigh again to soothe you. “Shh, it’s fine, darling. You did a truly magnificent job, I believe we broke the record.”

“How do you know?” your eyes fell shut, and you felt so drained that you could have fallen asleep if only his fingers stopped playing with your cunt as if it was another of his tinkering projects.

“I’ve been timing it in my head, of course.”

“Of course!” You laughed, or chuckled really, your body still under a blissful spell.

“Now, do you want me to clean you up and go meet the others?” he proposed nonchalantly first, and then without missing a beat buried his index finger up your cunt slowly, your eyes and mouth flew open at the sudden but not unwelcomed intrusion. “Or do you think we could try another experiment? I couldn’t stop thinking about—”

+++++++

Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading, commenting, liking, sharing, and existing, basically. Tech loves you, and so do I.

Tag list: (in case anyone wants to be tagged for any future shenanigans, just let me know)

@fenharel-enaste

#smut #tech x reader #tbb tech #tech tbb #tech tuesday #x reader #sunset writes #star wars smut

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 months

Text

Message in a Bottle

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm a little late to the @theerasfestlovesquareversion party, but here's my submission ❤ Special thanks to @miabrown007 for beta-ing!

Happy reading!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette sat at her desk, one foot tucked under her, thoughtfully clicking her pen as she tried to organise a message.

Her thoughts, which went a thousand miles an hour on a slow day, had come to a freeze about twenty four hours prior, when she’d seen – and heard – Adrien’s lips pronounce three little words she’d only ever dreamed of hearing from him. It was just her luck that they were tuned out by warning beep s, and followed by the Startrain doors clicking shut, as in slow motion, without her being able to do anything to stop them.

A part of her had screamed, urging her to chase after the moving vehicle, but her body had remained standing still on the platform, completely and utterly stunned.

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten back to her parents’ bakery. How she’d gotten to bed, fallen asleep.

All she knew, as she’d awoken in the morning, was that she knew something she didn’t before, and felt a sense of clarity regarding what she needed to do – but that was when her mind had woken up, too.

And thus the calm before the storm had ended, her mind suddenly swept by a force faster than the wind, dispersing any coherence in her head, scattering words like autumn leaves, before they even got a chance to associate with each other.

She slammed her head on the table, hoping it would help reset her brain; unfortunately it only brought on a throbbing pain. She winced as she rubbed the budding bump on her forehead.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, finally putting her pen to paper.

Dear Adrien,

My feelings since you’ve left have been all over the place, but it’s kind of frightening how happy the three little words you said as the doors of the Startrain closed, made me. They’ve been all I’ve been able to think about (which you know better than anyone might not be the best thing right now – but in a good way! I wouldn’t want you to take them back for the world. Unless you want to. Which would definitely not be a problem, of course. Although maybe just a little. But I’d get over it, I promise).

Marinette’s hand hovered over the page. She was rambling – which could be fine when she talked, but felt pretty stupid to her in written form. This wasn’t her diary. She couldn’t afford to have a stream of consciousness run on her page; maybe Adrien would read it, and think she was crazy, rip up the letter, throw it in the fire, and she’d never, ever, hear from him again. And then what?

If anything, the reason he’d gone to London in the first place, to get away from the press following Hawkmoth’s (his father’s!) defeat, so he could focus on the latter’s upcoming trial, was enough to justify a clear and concise message. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings when he surely had infinitely more serious things to think about.

“Marinette, it can be just a first draft, you know.” Tikki’s soothing words snapped her out of her spiral.

She looked up at the small divinity, who smiled encouragingly. She nodded, then turned her attention back to her words, biting the end of her pen as she reread them.

Little did she know that Adrien, a small body of water away, was doing exactly the same thing…

—

Dear Marinette,

I’m so sorry I panicked. I didn’t mean to say I like you . Partly, because it’s a little embarrassing that I blurted it out like that – but mostly, because I like you doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you. I just saw you, your freckles (the ones I thought I knew like the back of my hand – but that couldn’t be true now, could it? Else I would’ve realised who you were sooner), your smile, and the way you looked at me, and suddenly I got cold feet, and that was the extent of what my tangled brain could produce.

Adrien spun in Félix’s desk chair, assessing what he’d written thus far. It was a good start, he supposed. His life had been turned upside down by the cataclysmic revelation that Hawkmoth was, in fact, his father, and arguably even more so by the fact that Ladybug was Marinette – he was allowed a certain amount of disorganisation.

Although he’d obviously been surprised by the former fact, he had to admit that, retrospectively, it did make sense. He even felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner – or, rather, for figuring it out back when Hawkmoth’s powers were still fairly limited, and the damage done (both physical and psychological) was only a fraction of what would happen next, but being too much in denial of the kind of person his father was, and therefore falling for his tricks.

But his father had grown cockier with his powers, sloppier. His desperation sent him in a slow, downward spiral, hijacking his every thought, eating away at him until one day, he’d stumbled out of what Adrien would later discover was his lair, straight into his atelier, holding his head in his hands – still clad in the purple suit that made most of Paris tremble.

Adrien had stood frozen in the doorway, at first not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, as his father – Paris’ most wanted villain – finally noticed him, the cogs in his brain had whirred again, and he’d made a dash for his room, knowing fully well what he needed to do.

Plagg had to go. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t end up in his father’s hands.

He’d sent his best friend and his ring away just before the iron curtains had come down on his room’s windows. Just before the tears came streaming down his cheeks, as he cowered in a wardrobe, completely and utterly alone.

Until Marinette’s rescue mission, that is.

Her being Ladybug, had come as both a complete surprise and an obvious conclusion to a mystery he’d done his best not to uncover since the day he’d first met his Lady. Adrien had obviously dreamed of figuring out who hid under his partner’s spotted mask, daring to ask every so often on the off chance that maybe she’d reconsidered her stance on the matter. But never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever made the conscious link between the two girls who brightened up his life.

(Not that he remembered, anyway.)

Her plan had been so ingenious that he hadn’t clocked what was going on at first. He’d heard his father go on a rampage around the mansion in his search for him, half begging Adrien to listen to his explanations, half threatening him; and then there was silence as the doorbell cut through his words, and echoed through the house, once. Twice, insistent.

The silence was loud for a second, followed by footsteps running down the hallway. Gabriel opening the door. Voices, cordial at first, although Adrien couldn’t quite make the words out. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, what Marinette had said, but somehow, she’d been invited in.

“Adrien?” His father’s tone was completely normal as he’d knocked on his door. “Adrien, your friend Marinette is here to see you. She saw the security system go off and came to check if everything was alright.”

“I know how you feel about closed spaces,” Marinette had chimed in. Adrien had slowly crawled out of his hiding spot and made his way towards his room’s door, frowning, trying to remember when he’d told her about his fear. “It’s almost as bad as one of our friend’s fear of running out of cheese,” she’d added as he’d opened the door, turned towards Gabriel.

Adrien had stared at her blankly.

“Another one of our friends is worse about sweets, though,” Marinette had continued seemingly breezily, but Adrien had noticed the insistant glance she’d thrown him. “You should see her in January, she can’t get enough galette.”

Gabriel had chuckled politely, his shoulders tenser than usual, tearing Adrien’s focus off of Marinette’s words. “Well, as you can see, Adrien is very well, no need to worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important matter to discuss with my son.”

Adrien had felt his blood run cold as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulder, which, from Marinette’s perspective, he assumed probably looked like a recreation of the painting looming over the grand staircase.

“Oh, of course, I’ll probably leave you to it, then,” Marinette had looked down, and fidgeted with her ring.

Adrien had been torn between screaming out for her to make a run for it, to get as far as she could from the mansion and his father, somewhere safe, and begging her to take him with her. But something about her gesture had caught his attention.

Marinette didn’t wear a ring. And this wasn’t an Alliance ring, which he’d seen spread among his peers like wildfire. They didn’t have a common friend who loved galette. Or camembert.

The only person he knew who loved camembert was…

He’d caught Marinette’s eyes, hoping she could read the question in his eyes. The way she’d nodded back, very slowly, led him to think she had.

Swiftly, he’d turned around before his father could move, and grabbed the brooch he’d suspected lay beneath his scarf, tossing it to Marinette (Ladybug!), who’d caught it just as she called for her transformation. She’d grabbed his hand before jumping over the balustrade, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process (a small price to pay to get away, really).

Adrien had heard his father swear after them, his footsteps rushing down, but he didn’t get very far. Ladybug opened the mansion’s door, and what seemed to be the entire Parisian police force rushed in, tackling him to the ground.

Just thinking about it again gave Adrien palpitations. He took a deep breath and got out of the chair, deciding to take a small break from writing. He owed Marinette so much.

—

Anyway, I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t had any news from you, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Realistically, I know that I like you, combined with our double… friendship, I guess?, must mean that I’m not just any friend to you, but I can’t help but wonder why you’re so silent. I guess I haven’t really been in touch either, even before your departure, but there’s just been so much going on with the trial… I don’t want to bother you, but you should know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Kwami, I wish we could talk right now. Even if I like the idea of sending you a letter, since there’s less chance of things getting lost in nerves.

Because I love you, Adrien. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it never felt like it was the right time nor place to say it. I think I know why, now.

Marinette put her pen down and rubbed her face with her hands. The more she thought about it, the more everything made sense. All this time, she’d felt as if she’d been missing a piece of a puzzle, which threw all her confessions slightly off kilter – as it turned out, her feeling had been justified.

What a shame the moment everything fell down like pieces into place had to be when Adrien had to leave.

She shook her head. It was only temporary. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, looking out of her window. It was getting late; Notre Dame’s façade was illuminated, casting a comforting glow in the night. She wondered if Adrien’s view was as pretty as hers, and what he was up to. She didn’t dare bet he was thinking about her, but she hoped he did.

Do what you will with this information, she scribbled under her confession, sighing. I’m here if you need to talk, about anything you want. The weather, the upcoming trial, how you’re doing in London, how annoying I can imagine Félix being, what everyone in the class is up to, physics… You name it! I just really want to hear your voice again, especially your laugh.

You deserve to laugh, Adrien. So, so much. And I hope this letter brings at least a smile to your lips.

—

“Kid, you should be careful where you put your letters, I almost used it as a napkin for my extra mature pont l’évêque ,” Plagg yawned.

“It wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Adrien sighed.

“Yes, I read it, you’re not sure you’ll send it, blablabla,” Plagg mimicked, holding up the piece of paper.

“Hey! That was supposed to be private!” Adrien snatched it from his flippers with a huff.

“It would be a shame, you know. It’s just the kind of thing Pigtails would love to receive.” Plagg shrugged.

“You think?” Adrien asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

“Trust me, Adrien, I know. ”

Adrien couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his lips at the thought. He went through his latest addition to the letter.

You know, I feel like my neurons are a little less scrambled now, but Aunt Amélie is keeping me busy on this side of the Channel (I’m really discovering London, though, which is nice – I’d never been to Brixton, Camden or Hampstead Heath, but they’re great places to explore! I’d like to take you there someday, if you’ll allow me), and on the rare occasions I can sit down, which is generally late at night, I have to try and focus to go through the mess we’re going to be faced with. To tell you the truth, I much prefer sitting here writing to you, even though I don’t even know if I’ll ever even send you this letter.

I keep thinking about the next time I’ll see you. I really want to run back to Paris, to you; I almost did, back on the train. I’m sure there would’ve been a way to stop it in its tracks, but in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if there’s nothing I would’ve liked more than staying with you, putting a little distance between me and my father was quite welcome. If only there’d been a way for you to be with me…

Sometimes, I think about calling you, but I’m always afraid that it’ll be a bad time, what with the UK being an hour behind you and all.

He picked up his pen and added:

I hope you’re okay and that you know that I miss you and our hangouts, both in school and on the rooftops. I can’t wait to see you again, my Lady, whatever the circumstances. A small part of me hopes that it’ll be before the trial, or that we’ll get to be alone together for a bit afterwards. You and me against the world, and everything.

(And maybe some of your dad’s chouquettes.)

Lots of love, and hope to hear from you soon,

Your Adrien

“There,” Adrien announced to no one in particular as he sealed his envelope. “I really hope you’re right, Plagg.”

—

Anyway. I won’t hold you up any longer, but I just thought you should know how I feel. I’ll see you at the trial, at the latest – please don’t love London so much that you won’t come back…

Forever yours,

Marinette

Marinette dotted the i in her signature with a heart, and decided against re-reading the whole letter. Instead, she took out an envelope, neatly folded the page in three, and slid it inside. She wrote out Adrien’s name on the front of it, along with the Fathoms’ address, stuck a stamp at the top, and indicated her return address at the back.

Then, she picked up her bag, and prepared to go to Alya’s. She’d post the letter on her way there; it would distract her from the wait that inevitably came with snail mail.

She hoped her letter wouldn’t get drowned in the mass of mail Adrien surely received.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

—

A week later, coming back from school, Marinette found a letter on her desk, and recognised the address’ calligraphy instantly. She all but tore the envelope open, her heart rate accelerating and a smile spreading wider and wider on her lips as her eyes progressed through the message.

The date at the top told her that Adrien had written to her before reading her letter, but one thing was for sure: they were on the same page.

She placed the sheet back on her desk when she was done, feeling giddier than ever, and reached for her phone – it started ringing in her hands, Adrien’s face lighting up the screen. She almost dropped it in surprise.

“Hi,” Adrien’s voice breathed on the other end of the line.

“Hi,” she repeated, feeling herself blush. “How are–”

“I got your letter,” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“I got yours, too.” She gently ran her fingers down the paper on her desk.

“Good, good.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Hey, I know this is a strange request, but would you mind going up to your balcony for a second?” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“Um, okay.” Marinette frowned a little, but still made her way up. Maybe it was a question of connection.

She swiftly pulled herself out of her skylight, and froze.

Her balcony was covered in red roses: they were entangled in the wrought-iron, stood in vases on the floor, in a petal path leading straight to… Astrochat, sheepishly holding a single red rose. He hung up the phone.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said.

Tears welled up in Marinette’s eyes as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Don’t worry about me not coming back, I’ll always stay,” he whispered in her hair.

Marinette looked up at him, feeling like her heart might burst out of her chest.

“Glad to hear that, silly cat,” she said with a smile, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand softly cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. Fireworks erupted in Marinette’s stomach. She wished time would stand still to let her savour this moment forever.

Although her wish wasn’t granted, knowing that Adrien returned her feelings and would come back to her did make their parting a little easier.

“You know, I don’t know what the future holds for us, my Lady,” Astrochat said as he was about to leave, gently taking her hands in his, “but one thing I do know is, if you’ll allow it, I’m never letting go of you, of us. Not if I can help it.” He brought her hands to his lips, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Marinette answered, pink dusting her cheeks.

“I bet you will.” He winked. “See you soon, my love.”

He kissed her again, gently, longingly, and then slid his visor shut and took off.

Marinette wistfully watched him fly away, her chin propped up on her arms, leaning on her bannister.

She truly was the lucky one.

#honestly this event was so fun #and now i have a bunch of fics that fit both of my hyperfixations waiting for me #post exams is going to be litttt #miraculous ladybug #taylor swift #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ml fic #prpr #adrienette #canon divergence #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #they're in love your honour #and they have one (1) braincell #elle writes

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iam93percentstardust · 10 months

Text

so one of the things that i think is happening in the likes vs reblogs debate is that when people who support reblogging over liking say things like "likes don't do anything," they don't mean they literally don't do anything. what they mean is that in the grand scheme of how this site works--as a blogging platform--a like doesn't share the post any further than your own blog. no one else is ever going to see the post; it's going to end right there.

but, for whatever reason, whether it's in bad faith or just misunderstanding, people who support liking over reblogging seem to consistently take this as the other side does mean that liking literally doesn't do anything, which they then meet with the argument that of course it does something. it, as i saw someone put it today, gives my internet friend a boost of serotonin.

the thing is, a lot of these people who are against "likescolding" seem to have this idea that they're fighting against the all-terrible algorithm, and what they're forgetting is that in the process, they're hurting the very real people on the other side of the computer screen. going back to the serotonin argument, yeah, i do get a boost of serotonin from receiving a like, or i did back when i was still bothering to post here. so it would follow, therefore, that i get more serotonin from more likes. but in order to get more, someone is going to have to suck it up and reblog the post so that other people can see it, because my reach on its own only goes so far. if the entire argument rests on giving me serotonin, then shouldn't a reblog give me serotonin as well? why are likes the only form of acceptable serotonin givers?

which leads me into my next point, that by demanding reblogs, i'm supposedly just a greedy numbers counter who can't be satisfied with what i have. and frankly, at this point, after watching this argument go round and round in circles for literal years, i don't think that anything i say is going to change anyone's minds. the people who say i should be satisfied with likes are going to say that i'm greedy and want more attention no matter what argument i present. it doesn't seem to matter to them that i have activity muted on tumblr and statistics muted on ao3 and therefore can't even see the numbers. but i'm hopeful that some of the newer people on this site will see this and understand why i'm arguing for the value of reblogging, so i'm going to say it anyway.

let me paint a picture for you: i joined my current fandom on tumblr almost exactly five years ago. the biggest movie to date had just been released, the fandom was thriving, and i vividly remember seeing artwork after fanfic after gifset on my dash. if i tried to scroll back through my dash in the morning to where i'd left off the previous night, it would take me hours because so many fanworks were being created and posted and shared while i was asleep. the very first fanfic i posted to tumblr for this fandom got more than a thousand notes literally overnight. i'd only been a part of the fandom for a few months at that point and had very few fandom followers, but the field was more than welcoming to a new writer.

but then the landscape changed.

within two years, i'd started to notice a drop in reblogs. i can't tell you for certain what the reason was. maybe it was covid fatigue, maybe it was purity and anti-culture being driven to an all-time fever pitch, maybe it was that people were leaving my fandom, once one of the biggest on the site, for other, more diverse media. i really can't tell you what the reason was, but as the reblogs started to drop, fan creators started begging. and as the creators begged, i suddenly started seeing these posts circulating about how creators should be grateful for the likes and lurkers, and asking for anything more was just being greedy.

slowly, the number of fanworks on my dash started to drop. the fanfics went first. for whatever reason, maybe because reading a fic is more time-consuming, people were particularly hateful towards fanwriters wanting more reblogs. writers tried various tricks, writing shorter fics, putting things under read mores, posting in the form of bulleted headcanons, but nothing really worked. and so they stopped posting. and then they left tumblr altogether. i see a lot of them on discord, and occasionally, twitter now, but i don't see them on tumblr.

the art was next. see, a lot of the artists in my fandom make money off their art, which meant they relied on those reblogs as a way to get their name out there. and if those reblogs aren't happening, and if people are deriding commissions because they think fanworks should be free and available to everyone, then no one is seeing their commission posts. and if the site is already hostile to artists, which it has been since the tumblr purge of 2018, then why are they still on this site when they can be on twitter and instagram?

now i'm watching it happen again with gifmakers. that old resentment is building back up, this time around reposting gifsets and claiming them as their own creation. people claim to be unable to make cool gifsets so they have to steal them, and in the process, other people stop reblogging the original gifmaker. as of writing this, i haven't seen us reach the point where the gifmakers start to leave, but i'm betting it'll happen soon.

you know how many new fics i've seen this last week on my dash? three.

you know how many new artworks? eight.

you know how many shitposts i've seen? political posts? posts lamenting the deaths of whatever current fandom op is in? too many to count.

i'm one of the people who doesn't post my fics on tumblr anymore. i don't see the point. i'll get a much bigger reception talking about them on twitter. and i feel bad for all the newcomers arriving here because their dashes are going to be full of shitposts and politics and misinformation and reposts from tiktok where they once would have been full of stories and art.

but i wonder. if people keep on this reblogging hate train, will we lose the shitposts and politics and reposts from tiktok too? you're not obligated to reblog everything, i'm not even saying that you're obligated to reblog anything, but if we keep going the way we're going, if more and more people drop a like and keep scrolling, will we soon reach a point where there's nothing on our dashboards at all?

fandom is a community, and i think that that's something that people tend to forget. creators create for themselves, but they share for everyone else. i see a lot of posts talking about how creators will stop sharing if all they receive is silence, but most of those are old posts that miss that creators have already received silence. they've already stopped sharing. they've already left.

the thing is, before i gave up on posting to this site, i used to remind myself that if ten people were sitting in my apartment, listening to me read my fics, i would think that's a lot of people and be very honored in the hopes that it would make me feel less sad about the fact that in just a few years, people stopped reading what i wrote. and it isn't that it's wrong, but five years ago, even as a new writer, i was reading my fics to packed auditoriums with standing room only.

and there's a big difference between speaking to an auditorium and speaking to my living room.

no one is obligated to reblog. no one is owed a reblog. and likes do actually do something. but sharing does something too, and it doesn't hurt anyone to reblog it. truth be told, i think we're already past the point of no return; i don't think we'll ever see the creators who've already left come back. but that doesn't mean we can't make this a welcoming space for new creators or that we have to make them feel bad for wishing that more people would share their fanworks. i see a lot of those posts railing against likescolding talking about how it's not okay that likescolding makes them feel bad, so i guess my question to those posters is this:

why is it okay to make the creators feel bad instead?

#tumblr #fandom #probably shooting at a hornet's nest here but whatever #it's not like anyone is reading what i write anyway so what does it matter

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artiesredemptionarc · 9 months

Text

That One Love (Remus x reader)

Can also be found on ao3 and wattpad with the same title

Desc: Y/N Potter was now in her fifth year, the Marauders now in their sixth, it was meant to be a calm year, what with the usual antics of James being in love with Lily and the boys playing pranks on the Slytherins as a whole. Lately however, Y/N has started to pay a little more attention to Remus, seeing as he had started to talk to her more this year, leaving to let her wonder if he was always this nice and attractive.

(A/N: A remake from a fic I wrote back on Wattpad when I was 11/12, it's an xreader for Remus cause I was unhealthily in love with him. Anyways enjoy!)

Chapter 1: The Express

Y/N sat in the empty train car, looking around for her brother and his friends. As usual, they were nowhere to be found, well, Y/N didn't really want to find them per se, she just didn't want them to be getting into trouble already when they hadn't even left the station yet. Once it was clear the boys were nowhere near her cart, she decided to close her door, choosing to invite the calmness instead of the chaos lurking somewhere in the train, feeling the tracks shift under her, knowing that they were now departing for Hogwarts as the whistle blew and the station began to pass from her window.

"Oi! Let us in, won't you?" A voice sounded from behind the compartment door, belonging to a long dark-haired boy, her brother's best friend, Sirius Black, three others stood behind him in the small walkway. Y/N groaned, having just settled with the silence before moving, opening the door, and allowing the boys in, sitting next to the one with round-rimmed glasses and unnaturally unruly hair, also known as her older brother James.

"What took you guys so long? I started hoping you had gotten left on the platform." She said, looking to her brother for an answer. It wasn't like she was impossible to find, in fact, they had all sat in that same compartment the entire time they had attended Hogwarts, Y/N only joining them one year after when she herself started attending Hogwarts.

"Sorry, your brother there had to go ogle Lily before the train left," The boy opposite her said, Remus, the only marauder she could even stand.

"Did you know she got her hair cut over the summer? It looks amazing." James said, now lost in his own thoughts of the poor red-haired girl that he had been in love with longer than Y/N had taken to get through her reading list. At the sound of his dreamy sigh, the rest of the car collectively groaned, having to put up with it the entire time.

"How is it that you are so in love with her when she barely gives you the time of day, and when she does it's with a scowl on her face," Y/N asked, her brother and his feelings remaining an enigma to her.

'Well, my dear sister, you don't know what it feels like to be in love." James pointed out, thinking that his argument had any ground.

"That doesn't matter even in the slightest, at least I can tell when someone doesn't like me." She contradicted, a small argument now beginning between the two siblings, the other inhabitants of the car just watching, Sirius having taken out his own little bag of chips and eating, enjoying the small show in front of him. After what seemed to be half the ride, the two settled down, Peter having been put between them so they wouldn't attack one another. Silence had settled amongst the car, a knock on the door drawing everyone's attention.

"Anything from the trolley?" The old witch pushing a trolley full of sweets asked, Sirius and James, being the first to stand and ask for something, Remus moving to also get something, his eyes meeting Y/N's as he did.

"You want anything?" He asked, his voice quiet so no one would hear them, knowing that he only had money to pay for her as well, Peter would have thrown a fit if he knew that his best friend paid for a girl he barely knew over the person he's known the entire time.

"Just some candy floss if you don't mind, I'll pay you back once we get off at Hogwarts." She replied, her money being up with the rest of her luggage, knowing it would be a pain to get now that everyone had put their own bags up there as well. Remus nodded at her request, grabbing a few pieces of chocolate for himself and the candy floss for her, sitting down and handing it over, earning a small smile of thanks from the girl as the other two boys settled in their seats for the rest of the ride now.

The rest of the ride was rather uneventful, Y/N sat with her head against the window as she listened to the boys plan their first prank back at Hogwarts, taking a bite of her candy floss every now and then, even offering some to Peter when she noticed he hadn't gotten anything from the trolley. Even if she couldn't stand him, she wasn't going to let him feel even more left out of the group.

Finally, after nearly three hours the train pulled into the Hogwarts station, coming to a slow stop as they all got out of the car, grabbed their bags, and heading out onto the platform.

"Alright, first years follow me! The rest of you off to the carriages!" Y/N heard the groundskeeper call, seeing the eager newcomers follow him off to the boats, Y/N surely not missing how cold the water felt during her first year, her partner having hit her with some as they moved. Moving from the platform she made her way up to the carriages, getting on an empty room and setting her beg beside her, hoping for some solitude before hearing a person sit next to her, looking over she saw Sirius, Remus and Peter following him to the carriage.

"Where's my oaf of a brother?" She asked, seeing as James wasn't with them. Sirius just groaned in response while Peter pointed off to a different carriage, James had chosen to sit with Lily, not by her own choice, instead of his friends. "Wow, the betrayal." Y/N joked, looking at the very distraught boy beside her.

"We should lock him out of the dorm tonight," Sirius suggested, looking at his other two friends, his body shifting against Y/N before correcting himself, the carriage now moving towards the castle.

"Right, and have him mope outside of it the entire night, as if," Remus replied, shooting the idea down almost as soon as it left Sirius' mouth.

"Also he could just use alohomora." Y/N mentioned, Sirius suddenly remembering that the spell exists.

"Right, that too." Remus agreed, his head nodding at the girl's mention.

"Well, still, he shouldn't just get away with leaving us behind." Sirius exclaimed, not wanting James' betrayal to go down without retaliation.

"He'll just do it again next year." Peter chimed in, the other two murmuring their agreements.

"Great help you lot are." Sirius groaned, his arms crossing over his chest as he now sulked over the loss of his best friend.

The rest of the carriage ride was silent, the occasional word from Peter or Remus, Y/N choosing to just watch the creatures in the forest as they passed, the castle looming overhead as they continued, the new school year and any secrets that might be revealed from it causing an almost uneasy feeling amongst the returning students.

#remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #remus lupin #marauders era #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #severus snape

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suvidrache · 11 months

Text

Outside Adventures

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 1,042 / Read it on AO3 | Wattpad

Author's Note: This was a request from Valentine's Day that went unpublished and is now being allowed to see the light of day. I will not be writing any further content for this character.

Reptile scaled the column inside of his house, over the railing, and stepped onto the platform that it held. It was the only way to get up there.

He walked to the window and stood there looking out.

The setting sun cast an eerie glow across the darkened land.

Tomorrow was the day the humans called 'Valentine's Day'. He wasn't sure what it was entirely, nor did he care. Well, until you wouldn't stop talking about it.

It was decided then he must give you something for the special day.

He had noticed the way your heart raced when he held you close or when he put an arm around you, accidentally a little lower than usual.

When he asked you about your first time, you just about ran from him and refused to face him when talking about not having been with anyone.

You were shy. How cute.

He was still learning the ways of humans.

You wanted to sleep at his house or even visit it, but most people complain about his smell. His house would be way worse, with indoor pools of acid lining either side of the room, and statues of eggs sitting on columns just above the pools.

The entrance to his home was a snake head, the mouth open to let those leave or go.

You didn't seem to care or were unbothered by his smell. However, with him being a cold-blooded creature, he loved the heat, and his house was set to almost baking at times, only part of the house, the other side was kept cool.

Reptile stood up from where he sat, the night growing with each passing moment.

He climbed down and headed out.

He planned to go to your house and surprise you for Valentine's Day. You had given permission and told him it was okay for him to have sex, despite you sleeping.

With that in mind, he planned to carry through with exactly that.

It wasn't hard for him to see in the dark, it was quite easy. The issue was finding your place.

He moved quickly, not wanting to waste any time, and his desires grew stronger and stronger with each passing moment.

He stepped through a portal, hoping it would take him to your place.

He looked around quickly, not wanting to be caught. He was in a small city. Fortunately, it was yours.

Being in familiar territory, he ran, following the path the two of you had taken several times before.

You had decided to sleep in a tent, trying to sleep outside for a change.

When he reached your yard, he hopped over the fence and climbed the side of the house, sliding the window open slowly, trying to keep it quiet as he didn't want to disturb your sleep just yet.

He remembered the layout of your house perfectly. He stepped in through the window to your bedroom. You weren't there.

He went back outside and headed to the tent that lay outside. He unzipped it and looked inside at your sleeping frame.

Blankets were gathered around you and you rolled over. Snuggling closer to them when the chilly wind blew in through the door.

Reptile closed the door and slid his armbands off.

Next came his armor, leaving his pants behind as he climbed over you.

Slowly he peeled away the blankets, his other hand by your side, holding himself upright with his right hand.

He looked at your body once more. You were completely clothed. What an unfortunate situation. Hopefully, you didn't care much about them as Reptile looked at his long slender fingers, each one ending in sharp claws. They were great for climbing and scratching. He used them to his full advantage.

Carefully, he clawed your clothes away, only to reveal some more.

It was a pretty lace pattern. However, lingerie wasn't something that got him going.

He cut away those as well, discarding the tattered clothes to some place in the tent. He wasn't sure where, not that he cared.

His attention was on you and you alone.

He was about to place his hand beside you when you shivered at the cool air touching your naked body.

Reptile froze, letting you get comfortable before he shifted slowly and carefully, placing his left hand down. It was time for his right hand to get to work.

He looked at his hand. He would make sure to take great care and caution when getting you off. His intent was never to hurt you.

He removed his mask, tossing it in the direction your clothes might be in.

He put his hand down and instead opted to get you wet before he continued.

It was his first time as well.

He positioned himself between your legs and slowly licked your length. From there, he would begin to stroke you, moving and tightening his hand every so often. A move he was all too familiar with himself.

He positioned himself between your legs and slowly licked your bud. From there he began to rub you carefully, going harder and faster, as your legs began to close. His other hand moved to keep them open.

You let out a moan as you began to cum from his actions. Your hands tightened around the sheets, your eyes still closed until Reptile stopped. He moved to remove the remainder of his clothing, returning as quickly as he left.

He rubbed himself against you slowly. You tilted your head back as he slid himself into you. You gasped and bit your lip.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, please keep going."

With that, he lifted your legs and began to thrust into you, going hard with each thrust.

His moans came out in growls.

You couldn't keep quiet even if you tried. Exactly what he wanted. The neighbors might hear, but it was him alone that could draw these noises from you.

It would be him alone that would bring you to your first orgasm. He continued his thrusting, letting you ride it out as your noises filled his ears, fueling him with joy and the desire to fill you with his seed.

You looked over at the sky. It was early in the morning.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Tag List: @phantomheiko, @sunmoongoddess, @thevoidwriting / To Join My Tag List Apply Here!

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ofmdbigbang · 11 months

Note

Hello! Excited for this year's BB. I, like many others did not get a chance to participate last year and I'm hoping to this time.

However, I was wondering if the mod team could give a bit of a peek behind the curtain at any lessons learned and changes from last year to this year in event format?

Most of the complaints I heard about the big bang last year were accessibility related issues: That it was established so quickly after the show many missed it, that sign up periods were blink and miss it, advertising was very limited to small circles and only on Tumblr not Twitter or Instagram or many of the larger discord servers that got established later, etc.

Another was that timelines for check-ins for writers were rather inflexible and set to very specific styles of writing goalposts (completed words vs outlines) which were not friendly to ADHD or other types or writing/life-happens-at-irregular-pace authors.

And while posting complete works only to a Big Bang is understandable, a lot of authors felt the rule of posting all chapters at once, rather than dropping chapter by chapter over a release week or weekend, in conjunction with the lack of social media across all platforms to drive attention to the Big Bang and ending up with it competing with multiple other events at the same time resulted in a lot of people's best and longest works being buried, with fewer than average readers finding them.

Finally, much of this seems like it might have been done to make the bang simpler and less work on a mod team, which leads to the questions: Who are our mods? How many do we have coordinating for what was already such a large event on such short notice last year? The RBB was of a similar scale and it has been pretty smooth sailing but I know it has at least half a dozen main-team admins handling the project management, pair up matches, drops, pinch-hitting, the discord server, Tumblr, Twitter account, AO3 collection, and more.

I'm bringing this forward in the spirit of collaborative community and constructive criticism. I love Big Bangs and other large complicated fandom events and their history, and I know how difficult they are to run, especially for a first time in a fandom, and it disappoints me to hear about people having had bad experiences that put them off the idea.

I know some of the issues I mentioned have begun to be addressed already, like the new twitter account and what seem to be longer sign-ups, I just wanted to ask if there were other changes planned for 2023 and if you and the mod team wanted to make any comments.

Thank you!

This response is HUGE (500 word ask = 1.8k of response so enjoy that) so I have put it under the cut to keep it from cluttering up people's dash. We hope you (and our other followers) find it useful!

ASK TEXT IN BOLD, RESPONSE IN PLAINTEXT

Hello! Excited for this year's BB. I, like many others did not get a chance to participate last year and I'm hoping to this time.

However, I was wondering if the mod team could give a bit of a peek behind the curtain at any lessons learned and changes from last year to this year in event format?

First of all, we are thrilled to have you and thank you so much for the work you put into writing us a nearly 500 word ask!

So the first thing you gotta know about the BB is that it’s run by a load of Fandom Olds - none of us have ever done fandom on twitter before and, as you said, the fandom was so new it was hard to see where most people were - we were all getting full up on Tumblr with the content, and so had no idea back a year ago what the twitterverse looked like for this (or any) fandom, so it didn’t occur to us to promote on Twitter, or really anywhere else. We have, as you spotted, changed that this year.

We have also put out a longer signup period and are hoping to do more promotion generally of this event so that as many people as possible see it. We were quick to be sure we were on the OFMD Fandom Calendar (organised on Twitter) as well as getting promotions into some of the more established Discord communities. Many of these communities that you describe flat did not exist or were still pretty new and not widely known when we were in the sign ups for the event last year, so we weren’t able to get involved. We advertised in the Brainrot server as that was the biggest community that we knew of at the time (and one of our mods was mod there at the time too), but that and tumblr was all we had access to.

This event is huge compared to many events that this mod team have been part of - one of the mods is in a Bang in another big and well established fandom that has twenty five works in it - we collectively published over 100 in last year’s event, and we anticipate this year being bigger again as the fandom has grown and our promotional abilities have grown as well!

We would argue that strict deadlines can work for a lot of ADHD people specifically - sometimes the deadline is the only thing that gets you going. The wordcount minimums were explicitly because this is a project that’s about writing longfic - you can submit at the 50% check-in with 3k of prose but another 2k of plan if you want, but the point of the event is to write something long, and the check ins are to help people to manage their time. If they can’t get 5k done in the first half of the bang and don’t talk to us about it, then we can’t be reassured that they’ll hit the minimum wc for the whole event, and that might mean they let down an artist. (fwiw - Some of the mods think that the word count minimum is too small, as a traditional Bang has a 50k minimum, so we have made it more accessible in that way. (Mod Charlie: Look, technically this is a MiniBang, as it’s under 50k and I will die on this hill.))

The other thing to point out on this subject is that Big Bang events aren’t for everyone! There are so many events in this fandom that can work for all kinds of people with all kinds of writing styles - Bingo events, exchanges, prompt weeks, whumptober, mer-may... the list goes on! There’s no way that anyone can take part in every event, but you’ll find the things that work for you and you’ll create based on that. If writing longfic to a deadline doesn’t float your boat, then you can try something else this year, and wait until you’re filled with the urge to write longfic another day. We plan on running these events every year as long as people ask for them, and we hope that there’ll be at least a few people that keep wanting to come back and take part!

All that said, when we ran each check in we asked for a wordcount and also a self-determination of how finished you felt for your fic. We wanted people to feel like they’d done 50% of the work for claims purposes, but some were at 90% at that point, and others were at 40% but spoke to us and we organised with them that they could still take part as they knew they would have more time/opportunity in the second half of the bang to get things done.

Our experience in other bangs is that people who take part in claims with very little done are much more likely to drop out and disappoint an artist, which is why we are very strict about that deadline specifically. People that drop out and let their partner down without talking to the mods are not permitted to take part in the following year’s event, as it can be devastating for the other party. We do have space in the schedule for extensions if people ask for them, they just have to talk to us. If people do have to completely drop out at any stage there’s no penalty as long as they talk to us and their partner about it before they disappear off the face of the planet. After all, we want to run this as an annual event, so people can always come back next year!

We can’t control competition with other events, unfortunately. Hopefully with better publicising of this event this year, others will avoid starting their own events that will clash with our posting dates (October 22nd until mid-November, most likely).

Dropping the full fic in a single day is a feature of the bang, not a bug. This whole event is designed after the long-established big-bang format that these mods have regularly taken part in for many years, and is all about a big and sudden drop of fic out of the blue. (Not to assign homework to a tumblr ask, but you can read about the history of the Big Bang format on fanlore here) So the sudden drop of fic and generally discouraging people from explicitly promoting their own works is something that we want to keep (after all, it helps those that aren’t BNFs on Twitter or Tumblr and who are still amazing writers get their work seen just as much).

However, something that we generally encourage and will be promoting more this year is that people who are taking part promote the event as a whole as much as possible, read, kudos and comment on each other’s works, and then once everything is posted they can big up their own work as much as they want. Will it have exactly the same effect as posting over time and posting twitter snippets each chapter and whatever else? No, but this does let more people get their work out to a wider audience on average. And while the creativity of the fandom is still insane, the quantity of fic dropping every day has started to drop off, hopefully giving these fics more space to breathe in AO3 and in people’s searches.

We have put together (which we meant to do before now but alas, time kept happening) some mod introductions on our Tumblr Page which you can go and have a peek at to see who we are! The event started last year with four people, and grew to six after a shoutout on the Discord for some extra help. This year we’re currently at four mods again.

One of our mods (Hi, Charlie again, RVB Discord Builder, and BB Discord builder) is also on the mod team for the RVB and was able to both share lessons learned from last year’s BB with that team, as well as bring a lot of the insight that those guys had from their Big Bang and Reverse Bang experiences back to this team, so we do have an intimate knowledge of how that was run and how the work was divided between the amazing mod talent that was doing that bang. However, no two mod teams are alike, and so there will still be some differences in approach.

On that note, if you have an organisational brain, love spreadsheets, can repeat the words “We emailed you this information” in your head over and over again without getting cross, and think that you can help out (not just you, nonny, but the collective you that might be reading this post) please feel free to reach out! This is a big project and we are a small team with real lives (ew) and so there are going to be some things that we miss, so some extra keen beans may well be helpful!

We definitely made some mistakes in the last event that we hope to not make again. It was difficult in many ways because the fandom was so new and young that we were watching a lot of the fandom settling-in process happen side-by-side with the event, and it was difficult to know how to best respond to a lot of what was happening. This year we hope that with a more settled fandom, a mod team with a bit more experience, and with more focus and opportunity to talk to you all in more places and answer questions, organise extensions, and generally be a little friendlier everyone will be able to have a better time.

The biggest change we’re looking at making this year is to make the claims process less stressful for artists - giving a longer period for claims and going away from a first-come-first-served method, which really gets the blood pumping but can make things really difficult for those in inconvenient timezones, or people who have other commitments that mean they can’t be there on the dot at whatever time it opens for them. Claiming can be the most stressful and difficult part of a Big Bang process and we want to try and make that less stressful for everyone.

One of the other changes that we’re exploring right now is a ‘mini bang’ type event that opens to people who either don’t make a deadline or have to drop out for other reasons - a collection for people that can’t keep to the schedule but want to be involved with the project. We’ve not ironed out exactly how this might work, so watch this space and we’ll see if we can make it work for this year. We want to emphasise that the point of the event is to post in the Main Collection - we don’t want signups that know they’re not going to make it to 10k or finished art by the October Deadline and just want to post to the mini-bang collection - but we do also know that sometimes real life just eats you alive (especially with posting being just after the new school term starts) and that IRL absolutely must come first, and we hate to see people not being able to stay involved because of stuff they can’t control.

Most of the changes that we have are to do with how we’re hoping to respond to issues that arise, and our social media presence, which might not come up at all if everyone has a great time. From a mod perspective, the vast majority of the “big” tasks (sign ups, claims, matching, and posting) went very smoothly, so now that we know we’ve got that handled, we can put more focus onto making the event friendlier for participants. We’re going to be putting more information into the emails that we send out so that you have as much information as possible. We’re also putting a bigger emphasis on people joining our Discord Server so that people can talk to us more easily and we can better support people with amazing resources from previous years participants, the opportunity to hook up with an alpha or beta reader, and generally encourage people to take advantage of the amazing community of people that are here to help them write and draw the thing in their head!

Thank you!

At the end of the day, the purpose of the Big Bang and indeed any fandom event is to help people work with and potentially collaborate in a way that they might not otherwise, and enjoy a new way of exploring their favourite creative pastime. There’s nothing stopping anyone from publishing a longfic that they collaborate with an artist on at any time - we’re helping to provide a structure for those that might otherwise be too shy or too divorced from the fandom community to start these collaborations themselves. I know that I made most of my OFMD fandom friends through my Beta Reader for last year’s event and that there are huge communities of writers and artists that I know have come together through events like this, and that’s something that we are insanely pleased about. Fandom is about community and creativity, and we hope that you find the community that supports your creativity the best out there somewhere.

And if you don’t see the event that you want to take part in - make it! The creators of most events just rock up on their social media of choice one day and shout “HEY IM DOING A THING”, and while not every event has 300 people in it, many years of fandom experience in this mod team will tell you that it’s the things you do that only have 12 people in them that can be the most fun and rewarding, even if you create something that only those 12 people read or appreciate. This event is much bigger than any of us could have predicted, and while that’s amazing we know it can be overwhelming, so if it’s not for you then that’s totally fine!

#ask #long post #OFMDBigBang2023 #ofmd big bang

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anonofseasons · 7 months

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The reason the rest of Seasons went up is that I figured I'd better just do it before I lost all drive to share ever again and didn't at least complete Seasons for the remaining readers. It's the only thing I've written (outside of fandom) that has gotten much attention. It was nice, and I really appreciate that anyone would read it. But outside of that, I cannot get more than the tiniest handful of people to care about what I write, and it has been that way for years. It's discouraging, I'll be honest. My already-low confidence keeps taking beatings. I used to be more active with fandoms and posting fics, but one fandom/ship soured the experience for me. (Long story short, a lot of that ship's writers were bullied out by much more prominent writers. One of those popular writers mocked content from my fics in vaguetweets every time I posted, and I couldn't keep calling it a coincidence after a while.) I'd hear "you only write manbabies" (yeah more than once) and "you write too much of this" or be told my characterization wasn't realistic. But mostly? It just goes ignored. So I think, "I have to work harder and be better so people will be interested in reading it."

I don't know how other people manage to get word out about their writing. AO3 is great for sharing what I don't plan to publish/what can't be published, but what about what I do want published? I want to be a career author. And I struggle bc I'm dealing with problems that have a hand in worsening each other: financial struggles, living with my shitty parents, and bad health/disabilities. I need something in my life to work out for once. The pressure is on to be successful at something, but I just keep getting older and physically worse. My friend is willing to take me in when they find a place, we hope that's this year, but I can't live off of them, and I can't just sometimes cook and clean when I have spoons to make up for that. I need an income. I want writing to work out. But it just dies on my social media, with very few interactions, if any at all. I had a ton of stuff I wanted to finish for Seasons this month and into October to share with everyone in my excitement. But I'm losing my will to share anything. I only feel foolish when I try. Everything I do only proves my critics right, so it's embarrassing. Why even bother to try? It's been fourteen years of trying to get anything I write seen. I don't plan to stop writing btw, it's the sharing that's so difficult. I've been told countless times to write for myself when I express my despair, and guess what? That's good advice I've been taking this entire time! Who else could I be trying to please at this point? I have no one to please lmao, it's just me doing stuff I wanna do! The reaction to the ending of Seasons has me hesitant to give up on sharing, bc clearly lots of people connected to it in different ways, and that's wonderful. It makes me think sharing isn't so bad! But I just don't know if - at my age and health - if I can keep trying. I have two books I want to self-publish soon, and they feel like they'll just end up like everything else I post over at @mcalhenwrites - 6 notes and 5 of them are my reblogs! (And it's the same across all social media platforms - or it's even worse.) I'm really thankful that sharing Seasons gave me a taste of what it was like to connect with people through my writing, though. I don't think any of the people who commented or sent me asks realize how much it really helped me through this year, but it did. I started to have a little hope that maybe it wasn't a skill issue on my part, at least? ;A; And here's the thing: I don't really hate my writing all that much. I just fear it's got things wrong with it that I can't recognize, and that's what's putting potential readers off. I do believe my hard work shows, but hard work =/= good enough. My style is getting closer to the skill level I dreamed of having. I'm proud of my characters. But what's missing? I know that being a creator of any kind - even professional - is extremely tough, especially right now. I know this is a struggle for a lot of authors, artists, etc. :'( I just... I want to write as a career so I can keep doing more of it. I rarely have the spoons to keep up with anything. Writing is flexible. I love doing it! I just want to explain how I feel and what I'm dealing with, and why I'm so desperate. If you read this, know that it really helps creators to have our work recommended, boosted, etc. Authors matter as much as artists. I've been trying to train myself for the nth time to not be online and talk about my writing in any capacity. It hasn't worked before - I'm always too stupid to commit to giving up - but at what point in 14 years of complete failure with a side of humiliation does one just learn to give up? And to give some further insight into my thinking process: when I uploaded the remaining chapters, I put Seasons in my private collection (which holds 87 of my works out-of-bounds to anyone but me) so I could upload all the chapters without risking annoying my subscribers. Since 11 chapters in one night is a bit much, eh? :') Ugh, idk why tumblr won't let me edit anything or post long stuff. So I'm cutting this short I guess!

#this is a bit of a long post sorry

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getaway-gatsby · 2 years

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Pollux II - 1 / 4

Bones/Reader fic in which a mission goes horribly wrong. Originally posted on AO3 as getaway_gatsby

You stood on the transporter pad of the Enterprise, trying desperately to appear calm, collected, and ready for whatever for the upcoming mission might throw at you. Failing that, you just hoped that the violent shaking of your knees wasn’t obvious enough to attract attention.

“There’s no reason to look so nervous, Lieutenant.” Damn it. “It’s just a simple mission. You’ll be back in time for lunch.”

Captain Kirk’s voice cut into your thoughts. You looked up in time to see him send a confident smile in your direction from his position at the transporter controls. Although you appreciated the gesture, it did little to calm your nerves. Not because any supposedly ‘simple’ mission on the Enterprise had a habit of going horribly wrong – although this was true. During your time as an ensign, you had developed a deep distrust of the term ‘simple mission.’ No, you were uneasy because, as a newly-promoted lieutenant, this was the first time that you were at the head of a mission. Anything that went wrong today, from damaged equipment to the unnecessary death of yet another redshirt, was on you.

And it was one hell of a first assignment. Star Fleet Command had tasked the Enterprise with controlling an outbreak of Dioscurian rubeola on Castor V. The ship’s medical and science personnel had worked tirelessly on developing a vaccine but, to this end, a supply of Clytemnestra gladiola was required – a plant fortunately found in abundance on the neighbouring planet of Pollux II. This is where you came in. As there were no known civilisations on Pollux II, Kirk had judged collecting the plant samples relatively safe – and, thus, an ideal mission for your first command. Looking around at the other two members of the away team, the lives of whom you were now responsible for, you weren’t so sure.

Directly behind you was the customary security officer, Lieutenant Bailey. On his left, Ensign Alvarez, the botanist responsible for identifying the plant samples, was engaged in a last-minute discussion with Dr McCoy over how many plant clippings would be needed. At the sight of the CMO, you relaxed somewhat. The two of you had been firm friends since your first meeting, drawn to each other by your similar sarcastic sense of humour. There was no-one who knew you better. If anyone could reassure you about the imminent mission, it was Leonard.

As if reading your mind, Leonard caught your eye. Finishing his conversation with Alvarez, he walked over to you.

“You look terrified, Y/F/N.”

Me, terrified? There’s only 2000 disease-stricken citizens depending on me. Why on earth should I be terrified?

With some effort, you bit back your sardonic response and looked up at the doctor. “I don’t think I can do this, Len”, you admitted quietly.

“Kirk wouldn’t let you lead this mission if he didn’t think you could handle it, darlin’, and neither would I. You’re more than capable of this, otherwise you wouldn’t have got your promotion. And if anything goes wrong, helps only a short comm away, you know that.”

“I know”, you sighed. "I wish you were coming with me though.”

“I wish I were coming too. I’ve always wanted to see Pollux II; it’s supposed to be beautiful. But I have to get everything else ready for this damn vaccine rollout. Those poor people are going to need all the help that they can get.” Leonard paused for a second before breaking into a grin.

“You’ll be absolutely fine, sweetheart, I promise. Just try to come back in one piece, alright? I’ve enough to do without you cluttering up my med bay.”

Swallowing your fear, you huffed out a laugh. “No fear, Len. I’ve heard enough about your bedside manner to avoid that place for a lifetime.”

Bones chuckled and, giving you a comforting pat on the shoulder, stepped off the transporter platform to join the captain at the controls. Kirk exchanged a few words with the doctor and then focused his attention on your small away team.

“So, as you know, there’s no sign of any humanoid civilisation on the planet, but there’s always a slim chance that we’re wrong, so keep your tricorders scanning on the off-chance. Remember, when its time to beam up, you’ll have to return to the clearing where we dropped you off. The trees are too dense to get a lock on you elsewhere. Ready?” When the three of you had signalled your assent, he continued: “Okay then. Good luck, everyone.”

The familiar tingling sensation of the beaming mechanism enveloped you and, with that, your first mission as commanding officer had begun.

#leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy x reader #james t kirk #mission gone wrong #mission fic #major character injury #reader insert #star trek tos #star trek aos #star trek

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unseededtoast · 8 months

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Antedate | Bucky Barnes

Part 11/13 | Part Ten, Part Twelve

Summary: Sometimes making the right decision feels like the wrong one. That decision can stick with you for years and leave you wondering what would happen if you had chosen something else. But the alternatives likely lead to a much darker path; you'll never know for sure though. One thing is for certain, the decisions I have made will have lasting consequences.

Prequel to Rectify

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, physical and mental abuse, mention and description of death

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

She grabs his frail body from me and in one motion, throws his body into the water.

Two days later I find myself walking with the four women from the bar towards the local docks. I'm wrapped in a thin shawl that one of them gave to me and I changed into the long sleeved shirt I had packed in my bag. My other one got thrown away, it was in tatters and no good anymore. I go over what Anya told me to say once we reached the docks. The other women have a guaranteed spot but I have to convince the captain of the boat to fit me on there as well.

As we get closer, I notice there are a lot more people than I had seen in the small town. There are women, children, and men all meandering around. Some people cry and hug each other goodbye, they're all here to try to get to America as well. I see a woman crouched in front of a child, who's wiping the tears from his eyes. The boy can't be older than eight or so. He clings to his mother's sleeve as she stands and I see a man hand her a thin stack of green American cash. The boy gets escorted away by the man as he screams and reaches back for his mother.

I tear my gaze away from the scene and look around, seeing the same thing happening all around me. Parents trade away their children for money. We reach the wood of the dock and I see four small boats tied to posts to keep them in place. They can't hold more than ten people per boat and there are way more than forty people here. My attention is turned from my surroundings as I hear a familiar voice speak to us,

"Ladies, I knew you would make it. I talked some sense into Anya and she's willing to do the deal. I have your boat right over here if you'll follow me. Kid, good luck." He says, his eyes lingering on me towards the end of the sentence. The others are taken to one of the boats where they cram together on the bench seats. Now I'm truly alone here.

I look around at the chaos and try to find one of the captains. I see a young woman leaning against a support beam, looking around the crowd as if this is an everyday occurrence for her. She must know something. I push through some of the crowd and stand in front of her, where she blankly stares at me back.

"Do you have room for one more?" I ask, not entirely sure how to approach this. Suddenly, it's as if Anya never told me anything, my mind blanks. She smirks and pushes herself off the beam, crossing her arms.

"Look around, everyone here is trying to get on my boat. Some of them already have spots. Why should I take you?" She asks as she looks me up and down. I lick my lips and come up with an answer I hope she likes.

"You didn't have to pay for me, if you take me there will be nothing but profit for you. I have nobody here looking for me." I say. She still looks uninterested.

"I didn't have to pay for half of these people. Men and women offer themselves just like you are right now. We only pay for who we know will be the most profitable." I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to come up with a reason why she should take me over the others fighting for a spot.

"I'm smaller than the men and women, you could fit more people on there if you take me. More space will yield more profit." I watch her with intense eyes. She licks her lips and nods,

"Sure, I'll buy that. Come on." She says and I follow her to the small boat. I get in the unstable boat and sit on one of the uncomfortable bench seats. As I settle in my spot, I take in the scene in front of me. I see people trying to bargain their way onto a boat just like I did. I see people hugging each other before one of them gets on a boat.

Children cry everywhere and are being taken from their parents, who receive a payment as their child gets put on a boat. I watch as one boat fills with primarily men, another women, the third is a mix of men and women, and the one I'm on is filled with young people, mostly children.

The children get put into the boat and find their way to a seat, sniffling and wiping their nose with a sleeve or the back of their hand. Another young woman sits in front of me. She looks nervous, her face unusually pale. I watch as the last child is placed on the boat, and I recognize him as being the first kid I saw at the dock. His face is red and blotchy, his nose runny. He sits beside me quietly, choking back his tears.

One of the people in charge starts waving his arms in the air and shaking his head. I hear some people protest, saying that they want on a boat.

"All full this round, better luck next time." He shouts into the angry, crying crowd. The man walks away and goes to untie his boat from the dock. The lady I convinced earlier unties our boat as well before she skillfully gets into our boat. There are six children and one other young lady with me on the boat.

I look at the other boats departing and see the four women I came here with. They're all sitting close to one another and I see fear on their faces. I wonder if they realize what's happening yet. If they don't, they're about to find out soon.

All the boats drift down a river as we make our way towards the ocean. I don't know how a boat this small is supposed to survive on the ocean, but, I guess I'll find out. I cross my arms and hug them tightly against my body, trying to keep as warm as possible.

After a while the children stop crying, and the captain takes a seat, steering the boat's motor to stay on course. I make eye contact with the girl in front of me, and she smiles slightly. I return the sentiment.

"What's your name?" She breaks the silence.

"Adalyn." I answer simply. She nods her head.

"That's a pretty name, I'm Anastasia."

"Nice to meet you, Anastasia. What's your name?" I turn to the little boy sitting next to me. Hopefully if he talks with us a little he becomes more comfortable. I can't imagine how scary this is for him.

"I'm Dmitri." He says, not looking at me nor Anastasia.

"I like that name, it's so cool. How old are you?" Anastasia joins the conversation. The little boy looks up at her and holds out two hands, his fingers signaling how old he is.

"Wow, seven years old! You're getting big, aren't you?" She asks him and he nods his head with a small, bashful smile. She's effortlessly good with children.

"I'm this many." Another one of the children says and holds out five fingers. One by one, each of the children tell us how old they are and there isn't one over ten years old, save for Anastasia and myself.

"How old are you?" I ask Anastasia. I assume we're about the same age.

"I'm seventeen." She says and I nod, I was close enough.

The conversation dies out as we all try to keep ourselves warm. I hear one of the children's teeth chattering at the other end of the bench. My heart breaks for them all, they shouldn't have to be going through this. They all deserve a happy childhood. I stare at the bottom of the boat and try to block the noises out.

The night falls sooner than I would have liked. If this situation wasn't scary before, it certainly is terrifying now. Being on the water at night is a new level of fear. You can't see anything, you don't know what's out there. Of course, the captain has a small light so she can see in front of her, but the light doesn't show us anything back here.

I hear one of the kids sniffle, either from the cold or from petrified tears. I watch the vague outline of Anastasia put the kid next to her on her lap, trying to keep the two of them warm. I hear her whisper reassuring things to the kid. Dmitri leans his head against my arm, and I wrap my thin shawl around him. He shivers next to me.

The rest of the night goes by uneventfully, everyone is too cold to make conversation. By the time the sun rises, it's like the life has been sucked out of everyone. We all have dark circles under our eyes, and I'm sure nobody can feel the tips of their toes. The sea sloshes against the side of the boat and the constant motion makes some of the kids sick. Most of them make it over the edge of the boat, but others don't get so lucky.

"I don't feel so good." Dmitri says next to me, looking up at me with wide brown eyes. His bottom lip protrudes slightly and wavers, I know he's trying so hard to not cry. I hug him tighter to me and rub his back gently. There's not much I can do for him but offer the little comfort that I can.

Throughout the day, Dmitri starts coughing, sneezing, and getting sick over the side of the boat. Though he's cold, his body is burning. I know he has a fever. I know that his condition is declining rapidly and there's nothing I can do to help him. I see Anastasia look at the boy with sorrow in her eyes. She averts her gaze to the captain, who hasn't said a word since we left.

"What's going to happen to us?" She asks. The captain turns around and looks at us all.

"There will be people waiting for you when we arrive." Is all she says. I know whoever is waiting for us won't be good people. I worry about the futures we all face.

"Who's waiting for us?" She asks. I can tell by the tone of her voice that she's beginning to panic.

"My customers." She shortly answers, turning her back to us once more. She couldn't care less about any of us on this boat. She's just interested in the money she can make off of us. Anastasia and I share a glance to one another, and I know we're on the same page.

I look at the other children on the boat and see how miserable they are. They're all sick and not doing well. On one hand I hope we reach our destination soon, but on the other hand I'm not sure that what awaits us will be much better.

Two more days pass, and Dmitri's health keeps declining. I hold him in my arms and try not to cry, I don't think he's going to make it to America. He's done nothing but sleep and get sick the past two days and without any food or water, I don't know how any of us are going to survive much longer.

"How much longer until we're there?" Anastasia asks with anger in her voice. Her eyes are locked on Dmitri as she demands an answer from the captain.

"We will be there tomorrow." She answers back. Tomorrow might be too late for him. His small body is trying to cling to life, but I fear his soul has no more fight left. After all, he's lost everything he's ever known and loved. I look off into the distance, not being able to look at him any longer.

As the sun sets on the horizon, I feel Dmitri's breaths become shallower and less frequent. I start to panic, realizing he's dying right in my arms.

"Dmitri, no, come on, wake up please." I say and gently shake him. His eyes remain closed. Anastasia begs him to open his eyes as well, tears running down her face. I try to wake him up, but with no success. I cry as he takes his last breaths in my arms.

The other children start to cry as well. The sudden commotion gets the attention of the captain, who turns and looks at us all. She makes her way over to us. She places two fingers on the side of Dmitri's neck and shakes her head.

"He's dead." She coldly states. She grabs his frail body from me and in one motion, throws his body into the water.

"No!" I scream as his body gets claimed by the sea. I reach out for him, but the boat is moving too quickly for me to grab his tiny arm. With wide eyes and an open mouth, I sob as I watch his body disappear from view.

Stunned, I sit in silence for the rest of the night, unable to fully comprehend what just happened. My entire body shakes and shivers throughout the night. I don't know how much more of this I can take. The familiar sound of children crying fills the night air as we near our destination.

#bucky barnes x oc #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #hydra #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #james buchanan barnes #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes angst

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annwayne · 10 months

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The Red Logs: Return to the Temple Ch. 17

Chapter 17: Another Life

Last Chapter <- -> Next Chapter

Fem!OC X Crosshair

Word Count: 2297

Fic Summary:

There are benefits to owning a clone bar. Underworld lords don’t threaten you to pay for protection. Clones are great company. And the drinks taste great. However, there are also risks to owning a clone bar. Like, for example, becoming the fuck buddy of a special clone task force member so your life gets threatened when a Separatist puts out a bounty for your capture in order to use you as blackmail. Also your sleep schedule gets wrecked. But Anya Tougt is a little more capable than an average bar owner.

Ao3 Link Here

Warnings apply to whole fic:

Canon typical violence, descriptions of panic attacks, alcohol, swearing, 18+ themes (eventual smut), trauma, religious trauma parallels, mild gore

Authors Note:

What is pacing? We don't know about pacing. Sorry lol.

24 BBY. Tomorrow Kenobi, Anakin, and Master Tali and I are going to visit Mandalore on a diplomatic mission. With tensions in the senate rising, Chancellor Palpatine wants to know where Mandalore stands if a civil war breaks out. When I asked Yoda why send all four of us he mentioned there were forces upset with the change of Manalorian customs.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the Jedi Temple dressed in civilian clothes. All signs that I was a Jedi stuffed into a bag on the brink of bursting. Everything packed away, except my saber which I tucked into the cloth belt that hugged my waist. It too, hidden from view.

The strap of my duffle dug into my shoulder as I rushed to the taxi platform. My bag thudded at my feet as I waved for a free taxi. I glanced at the chronos posted on the various screens and advertisements floating around the city-planet. It was well into the bar’s rush hour now.

Getting changed only took me five minutes. Getting everything put away, that took much longer than I hoped. No doubt Crosshair was there, waiting, possibly asking Jayas about me. I shook my head at the thought. Jayas was too lousy a liar and Crosshair was too damn perceptive. My nerves buzzed as the taxi driver took my address.

Fifteen terrifying minutes passed and I remembered why I rarely used the cab system on Coruscant. But finally, finally, I was home.

I practically ran out of the speeder, tossing a handful of credits as I went. It must have been more than enough, because I didn’t hear any complaints from the driver. Quickly, I ran down the alley to the backdoor and pulled out my keys. The door opened with a soft click. No one was in the immediate hallway. I leaned back against the cool metal door and let out a sigh.

“You’ll fucking pay for that!”

Irritation pulled my brows together and tugged my lips down.

“You’re swaying like a two legged droideka, you couldn’t hurt a tooka!”

A sigh left my lips as I pushed myself off the metal door. I tossed my duffle over by the door that led to my loft and marched to the bar.

“Good thing you’re not a tooka!”

Two clones stood by the bar, both surrounded by others interested in a fight or watching one. They were regulars I recognized, Jint and Catcher, friends, the last I saw them. Just before the pair could throw their fists, I jumped onto the bar counter and whistled. After the sharp noise caught the attention of anyone within a block radius, I dropped down and stepped between the clones.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in my bar?!”

Instead of an answer, I got a welcome.

“Miss Anya?”

“Anya’s back!”

The crowd of clones turned into a swarm, as regulars and drunks swept up in the craze surrounded me. Questions went unanswered as too many voices tried talking to me. Somehow I ended up on Catcher’s shoulders. He paraded me through the bar as the clones all chanted my name. They were exceptionally drunk tonight. From my throne I spotted black and red armor leaning in a dark corner.

“Ok, okay, you’ve had your fun.” Jint helped me down from Catcher’s shoulders. They laughed together, reminiscing on won battles, whatever they were arguing about before now completely forgotten. Without someone to parade above the heads of clones in the bar, the chanting died down and the crowd of clones around me dispersed. Or rather, they were drunk enough to not notice when I left.

“That was some homecoming.” Crosshair’s voice greeted me before I saw his face, the dark lighting obscuring his expression.

“You weren’t here last time. That was a homecoming.” I smirked, though it didn’t stay for long.

“Another rare booze run?”

I leaned against the wall beside him, my arm brushing against his armor. “No, actually.”

In the corner of my eye I caught his head turning to face me. “How informative.”

“Answered your question, didn’t it?” Normally I’d be smiling at this part, this game of tooka and mouse we so often played.

He turned fully, resting his side against the wall and crossing a foot behind the other. “You’re making me ask?” A hint of a grin laced his words. “What sort of business was this last trip of yours, Miss Anya.”

At his use of my title I snickered and shook my head. “That just sounds weird coming from you.”

“Well, Miss Anya, I believe there’s only one thing that’ll get me to stop saying it now.”

I shook my head, then turned to face the clone. “You’re the worst, you know?”

“Would you have me any other way?”

“Alright alright,” I opened my mouth, but found only air. Maybe I should have said it was a beer run. “Well, it was,” The only word that came to mind fell from my lips like sand. “Family.”

His eyes widened, then narrowed. “I didn’t know you had family.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that.” I mumbled, looking past his eyes at the wall beside them. If Obi-Wan ever found out I called him family, he’d never let me live it down. But in a way, it was true. “Anyway, I’m exhausted and come back to a bar fight?”

Crosshair wore an inquisitive expression, though on him it looked more like a glare than someone in deep thought. He answered absentmindedly “Yeah.. Something about Lyn getting arrested.”

“What?” Surprise jolted me up.

My sudden movement caught Crosshair’s attention long enough to drop that not-scowl. “You didn’t know?” Now confusion colored his features.

There was no helmet to hide my expressions now. “I need to go talk to Jayas.” I turned towards the bar, took a step, then turned back. “Come up in twenty, I wanna clean up a bit.”

That confused expression didn’t budge, but Crosshair nodded. He leaned back against the wall again, and pulled out a toothpick. There wasn’t time to get lost watching his lips, so I turned quickly and scanned the floor. Jayas wasn’t anywhere to be seen, same as when I first came out onto the bar. Instead, Fathal and a single weequay worked the bar. The Weequay mostly filled taps and passed any mixed drink orders to his co-worker. So, Jayas managed to hire someone?

“I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t come back here.” The weequay was chest deep in orders, and still noticed as I stepped behind the bar. “This is an employees only area.”

“Well-” I glanced past the weekquay, catching Fathal’s eye.

His starry eyes narrowed, and the rodian called out. “Yer ears work’n Qwon? That there’s Miss Anya.”

The weequay, Qwon, looked between the rodian and I, mouth open slightly.

“Your boss.” I mustered a smile, then stepped past Qwon to Fathal. “Jayas in the office?” The rodian gave me a nod. “Thanks, Fathal.” He hummed a response as I stepped through the swinging doors to the back. A knock later, I heard a gruff voice answer.

“Sorry, Fathal. Jeya’s running late and these tax forms are taking longer than-” Jayas lost his words as he looked up and saw me step into the office. “Anya!” He jumped out of his seat, causing the desk to skirt forward from the sudden movement.

“Jayas.” I grinned. Relief flooded my chest at the sight of him. His eyes were a little more sunk then normal, and a line I hadn’t seen before creased his forehead. “It’s so good to see you.”

He fumbled past the traps of files and furniture till he held me in a hug almost as tight as the ones Wrecker gave. “Kid, you had me scared shitless.”

“Yep, I do that. Need to breathe, Jayas.” I gasped and he chuckled, only loosening his grip slightly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Maker, not knowing for all this time has been hell.” Jayas leaned back to meet my eye. “Promise me you’ll never get a bounty on you again.”

That earned a breath of a laugh from me. “It’s not like I get much say about that.”

Jayas scoffed at my answer and then finally he let me go from his hug. He stepped back and gave me a look over. “Have you gained weight?”

“Wow.” I laughed, twisting my eyebrows up. “Didn’t think I needed to be the one to tell you commenting on someone’s weight is rude.”

“No, I meant,” He rubbed his chin. “Hugging you, it feels different. Like, your arms and shoulders have more to them.”

“I was gone awhile.” I shrugged. If Jayas noticed the results of my training, then Crosshair was likely to as well. So what, I worked out while helping family? That didn’t make any sense.

“Yes, of course. Speaking of, you look exhausted.”

“Well, you’re not one to talk.”

Jayas rubbed the back of his head and avoided my eyes. “Yeah, things have been interesting around here. No time to relax.”

“Lyn.” Her name still hurt my tongue.

He glanced my way before speaking again. “Yeah, you heard? She got arrested for treason. Clones came and hauled her away a little more than a week ago.” Jayas fidgeted with a bolt on his cybernetic arm as he talked.

“Clones?” Not the police? Jayas nodded his head, his eyes sharing the same question. My gaze fell to the floor as I weighed the information. I couldn’t risk messaging him tonight, but Tech had to know something about this.

“Any chance it was related to your absence?” Jaya’s question brought my eyes back up.

My lower lip slipped between my teeth before I answered. “More than a chance.”

Jayas dropped his gaze again. We stood uncomfortably in the office, sounds of music and laughter pouring in from the bar. Eventually, I felt a metal hand grip my shoulder.

“We’ll sort that out later. For now, don’t worry about the bar. Relax and get back into the rhythm of things.” Jayas gave me a soft smile, similar to the ones I’d seen him give his kids.

“But-”

He shook his head, interrupting my argument before I could even give it. “You’re exhausted. I don’t think I’ve seen circles that dark under your eyes since I first met you. So get some sleep and enjoy some time with that clone you fancy.” He winked, earning a grin from me. “The bar will be waiting, and then I can catch you up to speed on everything and you can tell me what being locked up in some safe house for nearly a month was like.”

“..Yeah.” My grin slowly fell, but by then Jayas had turned to open the door of the office. “What about Stinky? I still need to pick him up.”

Jayas stood on the doorway and bat the air at my question. “Oh, he’s fine waiting a night. I can bring him by in the morning.”

Relief, instantly followed by guilt, filled my sigh. Stinky was a tough Tooka, but this was a long time apart. A good person would fight their exhaustion and pick up their animal companion. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” I gave Jayas a weak smile.

He nodded, once and I exited the office, letting him move out of the door frame so it could close. I picked up my duffle, stifling a groan as my tired muscles cried against me. Before exiting to the stairs of my loft, I turned and called Jayas.

“Hey, Jayas?”

“Yeah kid?” He stopped at the double doors leading to the bar.

“Thanks.”

He stood there, holding the door with one silver hand and one dark one, and looked me over with eyes I had seen few times before. Once being the first time he met me. “Anytime, Miss Anya.” Then he stepped back into the bar.

Something turned over in my gut at those eyes, but I could worry about it later. Now I wanted to shower. Every step up the stairs felt like a trek, but eventually, I made it to my front door.

Inside, it was quiet. Of course, Stinky wasn’t here to greet me, but it was almost like I could feel my absence in the loft. The place felt so still. Somehow, it felt like it would always be this way. But this was my home, and that wasn’t so.

Crossing into my bedroom seemingly gave me a boost of energy. Suddenly the weight on my eyes had lifted and my shoulders weren’t hunched over. Of course, I needed to hurry. Crosshair would be up in approximately 15 minutes, and I needed to stash all evidence of being ‘Annie the Padawan’ somewhere his curious reticle wouldn’t find.

The normal stuff was easy, toothbrush, hairbrush, underwear. That could be put away like regular. But blacks, my Jedi robes, lightsaber, and armor needed more thought. The box under my bed could hold the clothes, but it wasn’t big enough for the armor. Now that the duffle bag was mostly empty, the armor actually fit rather well. I zipped up the bag and slid it under my bed. Looked normal enough.

That just left my lightsaber. Sure, it could fit in the duffle or the force-locked box like before, but that felt wrong. I needed it close to me. Easy access. What was I thinking? This was a weapon I thought I’d never touch again, and yet here I was wanting to keep it close. As I scanned my bedroom my eyes landed on the nightstand by my pillow. I couldn’t? Could I?

Authors end chapter notes:

Did you expect Tali to be arrested when Anya got home? Where do you think the lightsaber will be hidden?

Dividers by Djarrex

Tag list: @midnight-sun-0

#the red logs: return to the temple #star wars fanfic #star wars the clone wars fanfic #sw tcw fanfic #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #oc/crosshair #crosshair/oc #crosshair x oc #crosshair x anya tougt (oc)#oc x crosshair #tbb crosshair #star wars prequels

4 notes · View notes

moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Text

Thorns

Chapter 2 of The Hunt

{series masterlist} | {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to AO3}

Series summary: The 104th battalion’s new medic Rose comes into the scene dazzling everyone, ready for anything life as a battalion medic will ofer to her after having spent much too long secluded in a medical station orbiting Rishi. While she forms close friendships with the troopers, she and commander Wolffe never seem to get along. As arguments between them heat up, Wolffe is challenged to make Rose fall in love with him, a game that by no means will end well for either of them.

Chapter summary: After a good start with the Wolf Pack, with everyone but Wolffe himself, at least, Rose is off to her first official mission with the 104th to the planet Aleen, where she's a grand success with everyone except the commander.

Warnings/tags: Mature (minors still not allowed). Language, references to sex, some mentions of injury and canon typical attacks. Light angst (I think?) but also some bonding with the 104th members.

Word count: 6.2k

This fic is ongoing and posted to-date on AO3. Cross-posting on tumblr will be in progress over the next couple of weeks. After that, I’ll pick it up where I left off and post any new chapters on both platforms.

After removing and changing the yarrow, Rose stitched up Wolffe’s wound, put on bacta cream and left it for it to heal overnight, and all the while, Rose and Wolffe didn’t say a word to each other. She’d helped the others get rid of their drunkenness and hangovers as they had to prepare to ship out the day after, and quite early at that. There were problems on Aleen that were waiting for them, problems that were bigger than any of the conflicts Rose and Wolffe had with each other.

All the preparations for the mission were carried out quickly and effectively, albeit with a shadow cast over wherever Wolffe and Rose were together. The medic was still expecting any basic gesture of manners from Wolffe, whereas the clone commander still held his pride highly. Gossip had sparked among the other troopers of the Wolf Pack, speculating what it would be like having their medic and their commander in the middle of such an argument. Some figured it would be fun, others felt it would only bring trouble.

For Rose, however, it was very clear. She didn’t enlist to argue, and she certainly wouldn’t give Wolffe the pleasure of ticking her off. She knew duty was more important, and she was willing to put conflicts aside to do her job. Rose simply hoped that Wolffe would be capable of doing the same thing.

Walking into the hangar where she’d met the boys the day before that, Rose felt ready to go. She had all the gear she needed and had overseen the shipment of medical supplies to Aleen on a separate freighter. In front of one of the gunships, she noticed Sinker there with Boost and Comet alongside a few other troopers she hadn’t yet met, but who seemed as curious about her as any other. Scanning them, she didn’t find any signs of Wolffe. Internally, she sighed. Perhaps it was for the best.

She approached the soldiers with a smile, her focus albeit dispersed by all the movement going on regarding the mission. As she got closer to the gunship, the nose art of the vehicle caught her attention: the face of her new general, Plo Koon, with two clone helmets flanking it, and the words Plo’s Bros written in Aurebesh in maroon. Rose’s dazed face suddenly lit up at the art, and looking around, she realized it was painted on the battalion’s main gunships.

“Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed,” Sinker told her.

“I really hadn’t!” She answered happily, still gawking. She’d already noticed a lot of things that were peculiar about the 104th and the Wolf Pack, but seeing the nose art on the gunships, she had to admit to herself Wolffe was a huge part of that. Not only him, but General Plo as well. She knew clones were usually close to their Jedi, but she could easily say the Wolf Pack were closest to their general. Thinking about it, Rose even remembered seeing that Plo Koon had an arm piece with the same pattern as the battalion.

Thinking about it made her feel somewhat warm, as if she was at home, realizing these clones were amazing among the already amazing. But as the commander approached, fully donning his armor, Rose began to wonder. Judging by the conclusion she reached regarding him and how he shaped such a personality for his battalion, a lively personality that seemed to contradict his in a way, was it possible he could have that side to him?

She noticed his helmet was different than those of the other troopers, further highlighting his position of authority. Beneath his visor, Rose was all but certain he wouldn’t be looking at her, and soon she averted her gaze from him as well. She hadn’t forgotten how disrespectful he’d been to her the night before, and as much as she wanted to put all that behind her, a part of her wanted to make him ache.

“Is everything ready?” Asked Wolffe as he removed his helmet.

“Yes, sir,” Boost answered. “Supplies have all been loaded and all squadrons available are currently loading the ships. If we leave now, we should be among the last ones on the Venator.”

“Excellent,” Wolffe answered bluntly before scanning the squadron in front of him, momentarily seeming taken aback by Rose’s presence as though he’d forgotten she was there now, as though he’d made himself forget her entirely for the previous night. Their eyes met very briefly, with no change of expressions or exchange in words, and by the time Wolffe looked away from her, Rose had a bitter urge to roll her eyes, one she had to reprimand for the sake of not openly disrespecting her commander.

“Have medical supplies been included?”

“Yes,” Rose spoke up before Boost could answer. “I supervised that operation myself.”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow at her. “Well. It seems you can do things by the book like a soldier.”

She scoffed, her eyes frowning with a dash of mischief lining her expression. “If you must know, I gave the patrol in charge a spare first aid kit for emergencies. It seems his mommy actually taught him how to say please and thank you.”

“First aid kits are recognized by the army,” Wolffe scolded as he walked past her, his shoulder barely brushing her out of the way, putting his helmet back on in the process.

Rose looked after him, part defeated, part amused, as the rest of the troopers looked at the sight undeniably excited by the drama. Finally, Rose rolled her eyes, chuckling at what had just happened.

“Are you two always gonna get along like that?” Sinker asked Rose.

“That’s up to him,” she answered. “I’m not the one who struck the first blow.”

“Good luck getting him to admit that.”

Rose shrugged it off. “I don’t know why, but I have some faith in him. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pucker up and answer his beck and call. I still expect an apology.”

“I agree, but you might be the one who’ll have to get that conversation started.”

“And how am I going to do that?” Rose snickered as she, Sinker, and Boost began walking into the nearest gunship. “Oh, commander,” she feigned dismay, “please be nice to me!”

“Really?” Boost teased. “You’re going to beg?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Rose gestured to herself, “does this look like a woman who begs?”

“Sometimes, if you’re into that,” Sinker winked.

“Looks like you’ll never know,” Rose winked back.

“Anyway,” Boost steered their conversation another direction, “there has to be something you can tolerate, Rose.”

“It feels like tolerating him is all I ever do.”

“Well then, like.”

She tapped her chin. “Well, I did like the use of bunny. Lowkey, as in, don’t you dare tell him that.”

“I’ll let him know,” Boost continued in the spirit of teasing, only to earn a nudge from Rose.

The gunship closed its doors and sealed them, and soon they felt it lift off into the air. It didn’t take it long to leave Coruscant’s atmosphere and arrive at the Venator that was already orbiting around the planet, already preparing its procedures and calculations for hyperspace. Soon enough, they’d all be on their way to Aleen.

The voyage to Aleen wasn’t a very long one, and while Rose dreaded the idea of being back in space for a while, the thought that she’d soon touch firm soil again comforted her. It wouldn’t be like that time she spent at the medical station, and she still had to stop and remind herself of that sometimes. It seemed like being secluded in space was second nature to her now, but lucky for her, the mere image and excitement Sinker and the others had was usually enough to make her snap out of it.

Back on the gunships, Rose and the others couldn’t see much of Aleen’s atmosphere upon their arrival. Turbulence, the whirring of engines, that was pretty much all they got from their touchdown. Descent was quick; this time, Rose, Sinker, and Boost were on the same gunship as Wolffe and Comet, all for the sake of making the operation flow quicker. Being a humanitarian mission, they all expected it wouldn’t be too much on their hands.

The gunship landed and opened its doors to let the squadron out; Wolffe exited first flanked by Sinker and Boost, followed by Rose, who was accompanied by Comet. She side eyed Comet with a smile, knowing he’d also begun to grow on her. Besides Sinker, she felt she could truly trust Comet. Her thoughts of friendship were interrupted, however, when she got a good look at the site they’d arrived at, as the sound of the engines of multiple gunships arriving muffled that of the breeze and the chatter of any Aleena that found themselves nearby.

Rose didn’t know much about Aleen, but she knew the sight was ghastly in comparison to what it should be. The Aleena, small creatures, devoted to their religion, and often high spirited, found themselves in clusters, trembling in fear and covered in dust. Huddled together as if that would grant them more protection, the only thing that seemed to lift their spirits up was the sight of the army arriving.

And that was only concerning the Aleena themselves—their surroundings were nightmarish. Piles of rubble and debris were scattered along the area, remnants of houses and huts that once stood. Columns of smoke still rose from some points, some extinct bonfires lit by the Aleena the previous night to not succumb to the cold, others of house heating systems that had been damaged in the attacks. Makeshift tents and stations had been put up already, some for feeding, others for medical attention, others simply as command posts, but clearly there was still a lot of work to be done.

Though some hid it better than others, everyone in that newly arrived battalion was shattered at the sight. From the corner of her eye, Rose spotted a few young Aleena running along the perimeter, chasing each other in a small game. Children. It was all they could manage not to panic in the midst of their village having been destroyed, and while the children were indeed small, they weren’t that different to the adults. The Aleena weren’t tall, they weren’t strong. Picking on a child wouldn’t be much different than picking on an adult.

“They’re defenseless,” Rose commented, her heartbreak sourly breaking the silence.

“Separatists didn’t seem to care,” Comet added in the same tone.

“But that’s insane,” she scoffed. “Isn’t this a war crime?”

“Much as it is, no one has enough jurisdiction to do something about it,” Wolffe said, momentarily turning around to face Rose. All competition and resentment put aside, Wolffe seemed to address her in a genuine effort. “The Republic is doing all they can by sending us here, and the Separatists won’t reprimand their own.”

The commander turned back to the sight before them and almost grimaced in disgust. Rose, as much as he hated to admit, was right. These poor Aleena had no chance against a Separatist attack like the one that had already ransacked their home, and it disgusted him to see them in that state. The most they could do was give them supplies and help them get back up, besides investigating the true reason for the Separatists’ attack there, the actual objective of the mission. Before knowing that, Wolffe feared he wouldn’t be able to determine any course of action that would actually help the Aleena. It would all have to be revealed in time.

Determined, he turned back to his squad. “Comet, take two men and begin unloading the supplies. Boost, lead a squadron and get the investigation started. I’ll meet with their leader.”

“Yes, sir!” Boost and Comet answered at the same time, and afterwards, they were off to do what they’d been told. Rose watched them go for a while before facing the main courtyard once more, instantly noticing the small cluster of Aleena headed their way.

“I take it by the crown that that’s the leader,” Sinker commented.

“They don’t expect to meet here, do they?” Wolffe referred to the courtyard in ruins.

“Not many places will be nicer than here,” Rose said. “Besides, it’s their home and they’ve just been attacked. I think we can overlook protocol for once, commander.”

Wolffe didn’t have the opportunity to talk back to Rose given how quickly the Aleena leader and others in his company had arrived, even considering how tiny their legs were. The leader, a stubby, blue-skinned Aleena with lazy, slightly crossed eyes, missing a few teeth, and donning a large, golden crown, began waving his staff in excitement, mustering an eloquent speech that would have pleased all the clones were it not for the fact that he was speaking in Aleena rather than basic.

Wolffe turned to Rose. “Will you go and see what’s taking the translator so long?”

But Rose seemingly ignored his order, and instead she got down to her knees before sitting on the ground, now being a bit more at eye level with the Aleena. Though it caught Sinker and Wolffe off guard at first, she then began speaking the Aleena language herself, so eloquently it brought a huge grin to the leader’s face.

Welcome to our disaster, glad you could come! said the leader. I am King Manchucho, honored to honor you with the honor of meeting me! These are dire times for my people. The unexpected attack has left us in crisis. We are peaceful citizens, and we never wanted part in this war, but if an alliance is what is needed to stop the Separatists from returning, we will gladly accept!

Rose smiled at the King. We truly are honored to meet you, King Manchucho. As long as we are here, we are in your service and that of your people. Sorry, may I? She took a handkerchief from her pocket and rubbed the soft fabric against one of the stones decorating the king’s crown, polishing it and removing any dust it had from the rubble. King Manchucho seemed honored by that gesture, and his smile only became more grand.

Rose, still sitting on the ground, looked up at Wolffe, who was more puzzled by her odd ways than ever. Never in his life had he seen a medic act like her.

“This is King Manchucho, who is, and I quote, honored to honor us with the honor of meeting him. He says if he has to form an alliance with the Republic to stop these Separatists from attacking them further, he’ll gladly accept. I’ve told him we’re at his service and that of his people.”

“We don’t know if an alliance will help them,” Wolffe answered. “There’s a slight risk that it’ll only make them a bigger target. We first need to know why the Separatists attacked, once we know, we’ll determine a course of action.”

Rose nodded and relayed what Wolffe had said to King Manchucho. The king seemed to understand, but Rose could also pick up on some of the worry he hid behind his outgoing exterior. Rose couldn’t question it at all; to see your people suffer, your village torn apart and in ruins, of course as a leader you’d be devastated. Not to mention how tiring it must be to try and keep all your people on track during such a hardship. Oddly, that made her think of Wolffe.

The king answered Rose with something Wolffe didn’t understand, and the commander as well as Sinker were left witnessing their verbal exchange, not even bothering to try and see if they could recognize any words. All they could make out was that King Manchucho seemed solemn for a part of that conversation, and Rose seemed to answer with the same tone. Whatever that last thing she said was, it seemed to make him feel better, after which his smile was finally back, and unexpected to all, he jogged with his tiny legs over to Wolffe and hugged the clone commander’s shin.

Wolffe tensed, fighting against every urge he had to shake the Aleena off his leg. He was still a living being, and a King. Still, Wolffe looked over at Rose, almost ready to bite her.

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” Rose said, her genuine surprise telling Wolffe she was telling the truth. Instead, Wolffe simply had to endure it until Manchucho chose to get off his leg, only to then turn to Sinker and do the same. After that, Manchucho said a few things to Sinker, which then Rose helped translate: “He, uh… he wants you to go with him to inspect some of the huts. Says it might help you investigate.”

“Me?” Sinker asked.

“Yeah, you. I’m not sure why, maybe he just likes you,” she said as she stood back up.

“I’m certainly more likeable than the average trooper,” Sinker boasted. “What am I going to do for translation though?”

“He said it won’t be a problem, I say we trust him.”

“Alright then,” Sinker sighed, putting his helmet. “Lead the way, little guy.”

“He’s a king, Sinker. You don’t address a king as ‘little guy’.”

As he was walking off with Manchucho, Sinker briefly faced Rose with an exaggerated shrug before continuing his way. That being done, it left Rose alone with Wolffe, both of them in silence, heavy with the tension already between them and even more so with the aura of the entire place.

“What did he say to you?” Wolffe asked. “Before… you know, the hugging.”

Rose sighed, surprising Wolffe by still behaving seriously rather than in her usual sarcastic manner with him. “He’s confused. He has no idea why any of this is happening. He, as well as a lot of his people, think that this was all a punishment from the gods. They’ve been trying tirelessly to figure out what they’ve done wrong over the past season to deserve this.”

“Please,” Wolffe lightly rolled his eyes, unbothered by all the superstition.

“I’m sorry, are you criticizing them?” Rose challenged him.

“No, I’m trying to focus on the real perpetrators of the attack,” Wolffe answered.

“You do that, I’ll focus on the Aleena,” Rose answered firmly, though surprisingly, not kidding. “I tried my best to convince him that wasn’t the case, and that on the contrary, they were being looked out for. That’s why we’re here. I let him know you’re the one in charge of the whole mission, probably that’s why he hugged your leg.”

Wolffe remained without a response, only for Rose to look at him with a devious smirk.

“What?” He asked her.

“See? We can work together as a team. So long as you’re nice to me, of course.”

He scoffed. “Right.”

A couple moments in silence went by as the two of them stood in that spot, listening to the few sounds in the background.

“What now?” Rose asked him.

“I need to report to the captain who was here before us and let General Plo in on the situation at hand. After that I have to oversee the investigation.”

“Good,” Rose’s eyes scanned the surroundings until she found a tent with a familiar logo, her legs starting to take her there on instinct. “I’m needed at the medical station.”

“No, you’re needed here,” Wolffe stopped her, grabbing her wrist to get her to stop walking.

“What? Why?”

“I need you to translate.”

“Your translator will be here any minute now, you don’t need me here,” she said.

“I do in the meantime.”

“You won’t be interacting with more Aleena, and I’ll be far more useful at the hospital.”

“Rose—”

“This is a humanitarian mission and these people have just been attacked,” she continued, only then realizing he’d just called her by her name, but she wouldn’t stop there. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stand by translating while I could be helping Aleena recover.”

“Listen to me, bunny, you might want to remember I’m your commander the next time you try and interrupt me,” Wolffe snarled. “I’m giving you an order.”

She took a stand. “Well, Wolffe, you might want to remember I’m a medic. I’m going to tend to the wounded.”

Before Wolffe could say anything else, a shiny clone ran up to him, panting and directing a sloppy salute at the commander. “Translator reporting for duty, sir! Sorry I’m late.”

Wolffe looked at Rose once more, still mad, anger only growing when he noticed Rose’s frown became a smug grin.

“Lucky you. You don’t need me anymore.” Rose then turned around and made her way to the hospital, not bothering to be properly dismissed by him. She found maybe she could only limit to doing what she had to do, mission wise, and maybe that would keep her and Wolffe from fighting anymore. But that wasn’t important at that moment, all she could think of now was the state in which she’d find the hospital.

And as the translator tried explaining a few things to Wolffe, the commander lingered after Rose, wondering what he’d done to be assigned a medic such as that one.

Hours had passed and night had fallen on Aleen. The arrival of the 104th helped stabilize things in the ruined village; while the Aleena were still devastated by their loss, the sound of chattering, laughing, and even some singing gradually began filling the air again.

Thanks to the GAR’s efforts, the fires and smoke columns had been put out, and the planet’s breeze finally cleared up the smog bundled above the village allowing for a clear view of Aleen’s night sky, bursting with stars. The only columns of smoke now were those of bonfires scattered around the courtyard where clones and Aleena alike had downtime. Clusters of Aleena huddled together around bonfires received food and drinks, raising their mood, and being the first good night they’d had in a while, some of them even began dancing around the bonfires and telling stories.

Rose sat on a long log between about five Aleena, most of them young and lively, and across the bonfire from her sat a few elderly Aleena, gracefully listening to the conversation being made, and acted out, by their younger counterparts, most of which had been tended to by Rose throughout the day. She watched them and listened, though most of the time she was scanning the area, glad the Aleena were doing at least a bit better than the night before, even if she hadn’t been there to see that.

In the middle of her pondering, Rose felt the touch of a soft fabric over her body, a blanket being draped over her to shield her from the night. Turning around, she noticed it was Comet who’d given her the blanket, and she also noticed the tray with food he was carrying with him. The plates were smaller, the food less elaborate, all of it rations destined for the soldiers rather than for the Aleena who needed it more. Rose smiled lightly at Comet in gratitude, and after handing her the rations, he took a seat next to her.

“Want some of the blanket?” She asked him.

“No, thanks, I’m good,” Comet replied. “I’m sure you need it more than I do. Word from the higher ups is you’ve been hard at work at the hospital.”

Rose’s smile turned sour. “It’s awful. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so many wounded in one place.”

Comet smiled sadly at her. “If it’s of any consolation, look at them now.”

Rose gazed once again at the Aleena prancing and chattering around.

“Many of them are able to do that now because of you,” Comet said. “Others will be able to soon. If anyone here is helping these little guys, it’s you.”

“Okay,” Rose chuckled. “I’m not the only medic here.”

“Well, then, by ‘you’ I mean medics,” Comet corrected.

The two remained in silence as the Aleena continued their depiction of old stories and legends, at times, even chanting and reverencing at the night sky.

“What are they saying?” Comet asked.

Rose paid closer attention to them. “They’re talking about how the night sky was formed.”

“Oh,” Comet said, not knowing if that meant mythology or how it was actually formed.

“Apparently they have a goddess for it,” Rose explained, matching the gestures and words as the Aleena before her cast them. “Lili Tua, as they call her. She hated the darkness, tried convincing the sun god to shine through the whole day. But he refused, and he told her darkness had to exist, but further than that, Lili Tua was the only one he trusted to handle a power such as the night sky.

“Lili Tua still wasn’t convinced with her newly given power, but it didn’t take her long to realize she could do whatever she wanted with it. She went to visit a good friend of hers, Hua, the goddess of the earth, and asked her for a few seeds. With her divine power, Lili Tua planted those seeds in the sky,” she finished with a smile. “The stars, in their view, are seeds.”

“After that,” Rose continued, “Lili Tua retreated underground with the rest of the gods, hopeful the seeds would grow. Whether they did or not, they still light up the night sky, and Lili Tua could rest easy knowing the children of Aleen would never be in full darkness.”

A silence had fallen over them as Rose narrated the myth; chattering from clones and Aleena had faded as they’ve all settled to listen to her voice, something she only grew aware of when she’d finished. The silence wasn’t tense, quite the contrary. People around the courtyard had been moved by the myth, and also, by the way Rose had cast it alongside the Aleena’s acting.

“It’s nice if you think about it,” Rose said to Comet. “When some of those stars up there are actually planets that have given birth to life of their own, and some of those stars have their own systems. In a way, the Aleena are right.”

“I never would have made it out that way,” Comet said. “But it is nice.”

“Yeah,” she said before taking a bite out of the rations. The noise seemed pretty constant up until a moment when the chatter of Aleena riled up again and several of them began to gather around a large stone covered by a fabric. King Manchucho himself went over to it and, with his tiny hands, unveiled the stone and then posed triumphantly in front of it, beckoning for everyone else to see.

The sight of it was touching: it was a painting in progress of the landscape of the day. The village in ruins but no longer burning, Aleena still wounded, but smiling. Clones were painted as well as a few gunships and supplies, and Rose recognized Wolffe, Sinker, and Comet among them.

“Hey,” Comet nudged her and pointed at one of the lower corners of the painting. An imitation of the medic symbol had been painted as well as a large tent, with several Aleena depicted as happy, surrounding a young woman with black hair. Nothing about her stood out except for the red color of her lips, prominent and outstanding the other features of her face, including her big eyes.

“No way,” Rose grinned brightly.

“It seems they’ve taken a liking to you,” Comet said as a young Aleena, among the youngest they’d encountered, hugged Rose’s leg in gratitude.

She smiled softly. “I’m just doing my job.”

“No, you’re not,” Comet countered. “Your job doesn’t require you to go to lengths to be kind.”

“What are you getting at?” She smiled suspiciously.

“That you’re a good person,” he smiled.

She smiled back at him, not commenting anything else.

“How’s it going with the commander?” Comet asked her.

“As good as it can,” she replied. “How’s the investigation coming along?”

“It’s coming,” Comet hesitated. “There’s no reason for the Separatists to be interested in Aleen for any tactical advantage. They don’t grow any rare crops, this system doesn’t connect with key hyperspace routes, and they have no significant political power. It just doesn’t add up.”

“So they’re only attacking to terrorize?”

“To terrorize other systems into allying with them, yes,” Comet answered.

“Would an alliance with the Republic protect them?”

“It would if the Republic deploys enough military presence to prevent military attacks, provided that doesn’t attract any more Seppie attention. I don’t think it will, though. The Separatists aren’t going to give up key battle fronts to attack Aleena further, but I fear humanitarian aid is the most we’ll be able to do for a while.”

“It’s something,” Rose tried to be optimistic.

“It’s really up to Wolffe to determine.”

“Yippee,” Rose’s voice was full of sarcasm.

Comet snickered. “Do you hate him that much?”

“I’m not the one who hates him,” she answered. “For some reason, he just doesn’t like me. I don’t care much about that, but the moment he starts pulling rank on me and trying to boss me around, then I have a problem.”

“He pulled rank on you?”

“Yeah, can you believe it?”

Comet seemed confused. “Actually, no… that doesn’t sound like him.”

Rose scoffed. “Whatever. I was just starting to feel better about him and he goes and does that. Seriously, that is the one thing I don’t take kindly to.”

“Yeah, Sinker told us about it.”

“Oh?” Rose feigned indignation. “You’ve been talking about me with Sinker? Who’s us?”

“The boys.”

“And what have you been talking about me?”

“Basically how we don’t want you to leave our squad ever because you miraculously cure hangovers,” Comet said. “And that you’re really cool in general.”

“And?” Rose knew he was still hiding something.

“And that you’re hot.”

“There it is,” she chuckled. Rose opened her arm and pulled Comet in underneath the blanket so he’d have some of it, and afterwards, she rested her head on his shoulder as both of them continued looking at the painting, pointing out some of its details.

From the edge of the courtyard, Wolffe watched. Seeing her lean her head on Comet’s shoulder was what finally made him look away. He’d heard her rendition of the myth, noticed her painted on the Aleena’s mural to commemorate the GAR’s help to them. His brothers loved her, the Aleena were wondered by her.

And yet, he seemed to be the only one who found her insufferable.

What conflicted Wolffe was that he didn’t even know why. By all means, Rose was amazing. Charismatic, smart, witty, full of personality, undeniably sexy. Wolffe wondered if he would have reacted the same way to the yarrow had he not been drunk the night of the bar fight, and maybe if that were the case, he and Rose would have gotten off to a better start. Hell, earlier it seemed like they were both able to tolerate one another. What had changed?

No matter what Wolffe did, Rose never seemed to stand down when it came to him. Maybe that was what bothered him so much. He was always the leader, no one ever had a problem with him. Whatever it was, Wolffe dismissed it. He didn’t much feel like dedicating Rose a lot more energy for the remainder of the night. He got up and made his way to make sure every Aleena had been well fed, that way at least he could call it a night.

It seemed everything had gone according to plan, and so far the humanitarian intervention on Aleen had proved a success. While he was ready to get some shut eye with a bit of satisfaction, Wolffe bumped into someone when he turned around to leave the feeding station, unamused to find it was none other than Rose still covered by the blanket she’d shared with Comet.

“Sorry,” she said kindly, only for her whole face to drop when she realized it was Wolffe. “I… I didn’t do that on purpose.”

“I know you didn’t,” Wolffe replied. “Don’t fret.”

Rose didn’t say anything, but her gaze averted from Wolffe’s and for a moment it seemed she was almost bashful. “I just came to drop these off,” her eyes gestured to the plates she was holding.

Wolffe took them from her. “That’s fine.”

Not really wanting to argue with him anymore, Rose briefly nodded at him and set to walk away when the commander’s voice broke through again.

“You did a good job with the Aleena.”

She scoffed. “And you wanted to keep me elsewhere,” her words were like thorns, but Wolffe noticed she didn’t show much resentment in her eyes. “A lot of them still have a way to go in recovery, but they’ll make it.”

The two remained in silence, a thick, tense one that threatened to suffocate them both.

“What have you thought about the course of action?” Rose surprised him by asking, but Wolffe knew she didn’t ask it for the sake of talking to him. It was the Aleena she cared about at that moment.

“I’m still not sure, and I won’t be until the investigation is complete,” he said. “But from the looks of it, whether we make a formal alliance with them or not is irrelevant. These folks need humanitarian aid, which the Republic will provide with or without being allies.”

“That’s good to know,” Rose answered.

The silence showered itself over them, though luckily not as long as before since Rose heard the shuffling of pebbles, drawing her attention to the darkness behind Wolffe where she noticed a female adult Aleena hiding behind one of the posts, shyness glazed upon her eyes.

“It would seem you have an admirer,” Rose pointed out.

Puzzled, Wolffe looked in the direction Rose was looking and found the Aleena, who smiled and waved at him, but then hid before ultimately running away. Rose laughed, drawing the commander’s attention back to her as he tried to process the sound of her laughter.

“Too small for me,” Wolffe said.

“I hope that doesn’t give you an excuse to treat her like crap, Wolffe,” Rose said as she began to walk past him, but Wolffe straightened up and kept her from walking away, taking her wrist for only a split second before letting her go.

“Something you want to say to me, bunny?”

Rose looked up at him with a sly smile. “No, sir,” she purred, her eyes wide with innocence before she walked away with a sway in her hips that the blanket miserably failed to cover.

Wolffe watched her go, trying his best not to focus on her hips, but rather on how she made him boil. Interrupting his thoughts, the sound of steps approached him followed by that of a whistle as Boost leaned on him as he also watched Rose as she returned to Comet’s company, now also joined by Sinker and Corvis.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” Wolffe growled.

“You still hate her?”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Then, with all due respect, commander, why are you such an ass to her?”

“What do you want, Boost?”

“Easy!” Boost teased. “I don’t want anything, I’m just walking around before bedtime. Though now I’m kind of curious as to why you’re both at each other’s throats.”

“Just focus on what you need to do for the mission,” Wolffe dismissed.

“Don’t you at least want to do something to try and get on better terms with her?” Boost said. “It might help if you just tried to get on her good side.”

“She has no good side,” Wolffe scowled.

“On the contrary, every side she has is good,” Boost said. “Maybe you could start there?”

“Are you suggesting—”

“Yes, I’m suggesting.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Suit yourself,” Boost smirked. “More for the rest of us. With how you treat her, she won’t thirst for you anyway.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said what I said, commander, and it’s the truth.”

“You think I couldn’t take Rose to bed if I wanted to?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Wolffe donned his signature eye roll at even having that conversation with Boost.

“In fact, I dare you to try, if only it’ll make you see I’m right.”

“I’ll do it if it’ll get you to shut up,” Wolffe shoved Boost.

“I don’t think you’ve weighed the risks,” Boost told him.

“Then enlighten me.”

Boost laughed. “What a juicy turn of events. You want to sleep with Rose.”

Rolling his eyes again, Wolffe began to walk away from Boost, only to continue being called out by his brother.

“A wolf walking through a rose brush is bound to get pricked, commander,” Boost laughed.

Wolffe flipped Boost off without looking back at him, hearing as his brother’s laughter faded the farther he walked. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose laughing and talking with Sinker and Comet, who had clearly grown close to her. Why had it been so easy for them?

And was Boost right? Did any part of Wolffe want to get closer to Rose? He did feel attracted to her physically, of course he did, but most of the time Rose made him want to pull his hair out. Still, if he managed to get closer to her, what harm could it do? Wolffe seemed to accept the challenge.

Knowing everything would be in order until the next day, Wolffe retreated to the makeshift barracks near the gunships for the rest of the night.

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