#“Have a... safe... trip...please...” When the conductor turns their head

[taphwa]

Quick sketch of the Nameless trio from the "For Tomorrow’s Journey" lightcone now that the patch is out.

Anyways pls read "For Tomorrow’s Journey" lightcone for PomPom.

[genshinluvr]

Prisoner of the Mind

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You couldn't join March, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus on their trip to Jarilo-VI after Gepard and Sampo informed them of an issue in Belobog. The Astral Express is under attack, putting you and Pom-Pom in a dangerous situation, leading to you sacrificing yourself to save the train's conductor. Needless to say, the Aeon of Destruction was not too pleased about it.

Note: I have officially written the first hurt/comfort fic for the HSR one-shot series! I hope you all like this fic because I enjoyed typing it out, and it got me tearing up a little, not gonna lie! I have officially made a taglist for my Honkai Star Rail fics and series! It will be linked down below for those who want to be tagged in future fics (and along with past fics if you choose that option) ^^ Man, now I have to start planning this upcoming week's fic. I wonder what it will be 🤔 I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Reader gets attacked, mentions of blood

Word Count: 7.4k

Mr. Yang, March, Caelus, and Dan Heng is off the Astral Express, leaving you with Himeko and Pom-Pom. You usually tag along with them when they go trailblazing or when they’re exploring other ships and planets. But unfortunately, you can’t tag along with them this time because they’re going on a dangerous mission, and having you tag along with them can put your safety at risk. You didn’t want to get in their way by getting hurt or putting a target on your back just by being there. Actually, that was a lie because you offered to tag along with them, and they didn’t want you to go with them.

“There’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N],” Himeko says, ruffling your hair.

You sigh and lean back on the chair, looking out the window of the Astral Express. The stars are shining, and Jarlio-VI looks the same as it has always been. Iced over and devoid of life. There’s something nagging at you, but you can’t put your finger on it. It doesn’t feel pleasant, and you’re constantly looking out the window to see what’s going on, even though you can’t see what’s going on down there on Jarlio-VI.

A few days ago, while traversing through space in the Astral Express, Caelus received a text from Gepard and Sampo. Something was going on in Belobog, and they needed help as soon as possible. You offered to tag along, but of course, your offer was shot down almost immediately by the three men.

“You’re not going with us,” Mr. Yang states, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widen with disbelief. “What?! Why not? This isn’t the first time I’m tagging along with you guys!” You exclaimed, frowning at the older man.

Mr. Yang looks at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March as if he’s asking them to help him. The three stare in return before looking at you. You had this big frown on your face, and your eyebrows were furrowed with confusion and maybe anger. You were more confused than angry because why would you get upset over them not wanting you to tag along? 

Dan Heng sighs. “Caelus received a text from Sampo and Gepard about the situation in Belobog. It won’t be safe if you come with us,” Dan Heng says.

You opened your mouth to retort but only to let out an apprehensive sigh. Caelus walks to you, grabs you by the shoulders, and gazes into your eyes while squatting down to your eye level. You turned your head to avoid his eyes, but Caelus grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

Caelus sighs and gives you a weak smile. “I know you want to come along with us, but we can’t have you come with us for your safety. The situation in Belobog is a safety risk for you, and we don’t want you to get hurt or caught in the middle of it all,” Caelus says.

How was it a safety risk for you when it’s also a safety risk for them? The only thing that’s different between you and them is that they have weapons, and you don’t. And you’re not from their world, but you’ve been adjusting to their universe just fine! With the help of your dear friends from the Astral Express, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI, you’re doing great at getting used to your new environments.

Caelus continues to stare at you with his honey-gold eyes. You sigh and close your eyes, turning your head away from Caelus. Caelus frowns and releases your chin from his grasp, turning to look at March, Mr. Yang, and Dan Heng helplessly. March clears her throat, approaching you and Caelus with a faint smile. 

“Oh, cheer up, [Y/N]! I know you want to tag along with us, but maybe you can stay back on the Astral Express just this once! Plus, it’s going to be somewhere freezing in Jarilo-VI, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be somewhere freezing while the four of us are out and about!” March says, propping her hands on her hips.

Damn, March isn’t wrong about that. You’re not a huge fan of the weather on Jarilo-VI, and standing in the blizzard while March, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus help Gepard and Sampo with the problems in Belobog is something you don’t want to do. An idea suddenly pops up in your head, and your eyes brighten. Since it’s Sampo and Gepard that contacted Caelus about the problem, you might as well hang out with Luka at Boulder Town Super League while they’re dealing with the situation.

You clear your throat. “Since the four of you, along with Sampo and Gepard, are going to be busy, can I hang out with Luka at the Boulder Town Super League?” You ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Mr. Yang gives you a sympathetic smile and chuckles. “Sweetheart, Luka is going to be coming along with us as well. While we don’t have his phone number like you, Sampo mentioned bringing a friend with him for this situation,” said Mr. Yang. 

March, Dan Heng, and Caelus’ heads snap toward Mr. Yang’s direction after hearing Mr. Yang’s slip up. Mr. Yang didn’t seem to notice it, and neither have you. Instead of throwing a fit or insisting that you tag along with them, you sighed in defeat and nodded. It looks like your chances of visiting Jarilo-VI are nonexistent at this point. 

Caelus looks at Dan Heng, mouthing, ‘Sweetheart?’ only to earn a shrug from the black-haired man. Caelus clears his throat and nods. “Right, uh, Sampo mentioned a friend he’s bringing with him. As much as we would love to bring you along, we don’t want to give you a babysitter. Remember what happened last time?” Caelus asked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

You pursed your lips and rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet. Of course, you remembered what happened the last time you were assigned a babysitter. You got a golf ball-sized bump on your face with a bruise accompanying the bump. It wasn’t pretty, but you certainly met someone pretty that day. That person happened to be the friend of Sampo Koski himself, who is tagging along with your Astral Express and Belobog friends to the site of the issue. 

“That’s beside the point. As harsh as it sounds, you’re not leaving the Astral Express. You can join us when we’re heading to the Xianzhou Luofu, alright?” Dan Heng said.

You nodded glumly. You can’t help but feel like you’re being grounded for something you didn’t do. But you will do as they say and stay on the train. March ruffled your hair before draping her arms over your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug.

You hugged March tightly. “When are you guys leaving?” You ask, peeking from March’s shoulders. 

Mr. Yang replied almost immediately after you asked, “The Astral Express is heading there right now.”

“And how long will you five be gone for?” You ask.

“We don’t know how long we’ll be on Jarilo-VI. It can be a few days, a few hours, or longer than that, depending on the situation,” replied Dan Heng.

You frowned and pulled away from the hug, and sighed. There’s not much for you to do now. All you could do was hope for the best and that everyone involved came out unscathed and safe.

The conversation you had with your traveling companions was a few days ago, and they have yet to return to the Astral Express. You’re on edge and constantly check your phone to make sure they’re okay and alive. Luckily, they respond to your messages fast in the Astral Express group chat. The only time they won’t respond to your message is when they’re in the middle of something they can’t disclose. Of course, they let you know that ahead of time. And now you’re here, sitting on the Astral Express, looking out the window with zero interest.

Himeko sighs. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my cabin, alright? Feel free to stop by,” says Himeko, smiling at you before walking off after you nod.

Once you’re finally alone, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. No matter how many times you zoned out, time seems to be going slower than it is. You crack your eyes open and check your phone for the umpteenth time, only to see no notifications. Not even from Blade, Luocha, or Jing Yuan. Everyone is busy but you. Maybe a nap will take your mind off what’s going on, and maybe Nanook can keep you company.

After arriving at your bedroom, you plug your phone into the charger before collapsing on your bed and closing your eyes. You blindly reach for the lamp on your nightstand and switch the light off. Exhaustion soon overcomes you, your eyelids feel heavy, and you slowly drift to sleep. You didn’t know how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, everything was pitch black. 

You’re miffed that you didn’t see Nanook. You weren’t sure if Nanook was busy, but whenever you go to sleep, you always see Nanook. You didn’t think you did anything to make him upset, plus none of you have gotten off on the wrong foot. Something was wrong, and you don’t know what it is. You reach for the nightstand to turn the lights on, but it doesn’t turn on. You flip the switch repeatedly, but the room remains pitch-dark.

“Dammit. Is the lamp dead?” You sit up and blindly search for your phone in the darkness of your room. You turn your phone on to see that you got a message from Himeko.

1 Message from Himeko („• ֊ •„)

Himeko: “Hey, sleepy head! I got an urgent message from the gang, and they needed my assistance. Sorry to leave the Express without informing you about it. Remember to stay on the ship and do not leave! See you soon!”

You stare at the message that was sent forty-five minutes ago. You’re not sure if you should respond to Himeko’s message. But you didn’t want to leave her on read, so you typed out a message to the redhead.

Y/N: “Urgent message? Are they okay? I didn’t get a notification about it in the group chat…. Did they send the message to you separately?”

Message failed to send.

You furrow your eyebrows. That’s strange.

Y/N: “Himeko?”

Message failed to send.

You kick your blankets off your legs and run to the door. You swing the door open and freeze when you’re met with nothing but darkness. The only source of light was the starry skies shining from the window of the Astral Express. You clutch on your phone tightly, stepping into the pitch-black hallways, swallowing your fears. You turn your phone flashlight, shining it into the darkness that is the Astral Express. Is there a power outage? What happened to Pom-Pom? The thought of Pom-Pom hiding somewhere in the train makes you sprint out of the Passenger Cabins to the Parlor Car, mentally praying to yourself that Pom-Pom is at least safe.

The door to the Parlor Car slams open, and you run into the darkness, shining your phone flashlight while searching for the conductor. Despite there being windows in the train, it doesn’t make the train any brighter. You can’t hear anything else other than blood pounding in your ears. The silence is deafening.

You whimper out, “Pom-Pom? Are you there?”

You’re met with silence. Not even a peep from the conductor of the Astral Express. You hear something shuffling behind you, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the sound. There, hiding behind the chair, is Pom-Pom. Pom-Pom peeks from the chair, shivering with fear.

You sigh in relief. “There you are, Pom-Pom! I was so worried about you!” You said, jogging toward Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom’s eyes widen, pointing behind you. “Watch out!” Pom-Pom shrieks.

Without thinking, you dive to the ground. You roll over to your knees and turn to look at the thing Pom-Pom pointed at. Right behind you was the Voidranger Reaver, preparing to strike again. You gulp and slowly take a step back, grabbing onto Pom-Pom and pulling the conductor into your arms. There’s no way you and Pom-Pom will be able to escape without getting a couple of cuts. 

There are so many questions you want to ask Pom-Pom, but your mind is racing and is all over the place. Your main objective is to try to escape with Pom-Pom and seek help. The Astral Express is no longer safe for you and Pom-Pom. Who knows what else is going to show up on the train. 

“Help is on the way! I managed to send out an SOS signal to Himeko and Welt. They should be back soon,” Pom-Pom says, tugging on your shirt.

“How soon?” You whisper, eyes scanning the darkness, searching for an exit. 

You’re fucked. You and Pom-Pom are doomed. There’s no escape. There’s no way for you to escape, and you’re fucking terrified. You want to cry. You’re shaking, but you’re trying your best to put on a brave face, but you’re not sure how long it’ll last. Whatever Pom-Pom was saying, it went in one ear and out the other. You grit your teeth, hugging Pom-Pom tightly to your chest before sprinting past the Voidranger Reaver.

The only safe place is your bedroom. You’re not sure if your bedroom door will be able to hold the Voidranger Reaver back. You’re not skilled in any weapon, it’s dark, and you don’t think Himeko and Mr. Yang will make it on time before something happens. You’re fucked. You’re fucked. You run to the Passenger Cabin, hearing the Voidranger Reaver sprinting after you.

You’re so close to your room. So close. You’re so close. Your feet hit the ground, Pom-Pom whimpering in fear, and the vicious growls from the Voidranger Reaver ring in your ears. 

You’re so close to your bedroom. Before you can reach your bedroom, you come to a complete stop, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Two more Voidranger Reavers step out from the shadows, ready to attack you and Pom-Pom. 

“[Y/N]....” Pom-Pom whimpers, tugging on your shirt.

You pat Pom-Pom’s back with shaky hands. “We’ll be okay, Pom-Pom. I promise,” you whisper. An idea pops up in your head. “Please forgive me, Conductor.”

“H-Hey! Why are you apologizing?!” Pom-Pom exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes.

You didn’t respond. You lift Pom-Pom and throw him over the two Voidranger Reavers and toward your bedroom. When Pom-Pom lands on the floor of your room, the three Voidranger Reavers start attacking you. Slicing your body to shreds. The sounds of your scream echo throughout the pitch-black train.

Your vision blurs, blood pours from every cut on your body, your ears ring, and your legs give out from underneath you. The last thing you see before darkness consumes your vision is the lights turning on in the Astral Express.

Nothing can prepare Welt, Himeko, Caelus, March, and Dan Heng when they arrive at the Astral Express. Sampo, Luka, and Gepard offered to come and help after the five Astral Express crew members were able to help the trio with the issue on Belobog. The Astral Express was under attack by a couple of Voidranger Reavers, but luckily it was only a small number. However, they weren’t prepared to see the damages the Voidranger Reavers caused when they stepped onto the Astral Express.

Furniture was thrown around, and objects were thrown around and askew. There were no signs of Pom-Pom on board, and there were no signs of you in the Parlor Car. Everyone was hoping you and Pom-Pom were safe somewhere on the Astral Express, but the moment they stepped into the Passenger Cabin, time seemed to have stood still from there.

You were lying lifeless on the ground while three Voidranger Reavers continuously slashed your body. Blood pooled from beneath you, painting the floors crimson red as the smell of copper filled the air. The door to your bedroom is wide open, letting the others get a glimpse of the shaking and sobbing train conductor. Dan Heng was the first to attack the Voidranger Reavers, and others soon followed after. 

Once the three Voidranger Reavers were defeated and they all evaporated into thin air, Welt was immediately by your side, pressing his hand against your neck. There’s a pulse, but it’s faint. So faint that he can barely feel it with his gloves on— making him take his glove off and place his index and middle fingers on your neck to the side of your windpipe.

“Someone, contact the Xianzhou Luofu. We need all of the help we can get,” Caelus barks, covering your shredded and bleeding body with his jacket, attempting to stop the bleeding.

Caelus, Welt, and Dan Heng carefully lift you from the ground. March rushes over to a sobbing Pom-Pom, comforting the train conductor while rushing Pom-Pom out of the Passenger Cabin. Gepard, Sampo, and Luka look at one another, not saying a word.

Sampo runs his trembling hands through his hair. “They’re not going to die, are they? Please tell me they’ll be okay,” Sampo whispers, biting on his bottom lip.

“They’ll be okay. They have to be! There’s no way any of us will let them slip from our fingers,” Gepard replies, his hands shaking.

“How can you be so sure? [Y/N] lost so much blood! The floors are literally painted with their blood,” Luka mutters, his eyes never leaving the pool of blood on the once pristine floors of the Astral Express.

The only thing they can do is wait to arrive. While Dan Heng, Welt, and Caelus are trying to put pressure on your wounds to stop the bleeding, Himeko struts through the hallways of the Astral Express with Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade following close behind. While Himeko mainly contacted Luocha about the situation, Luocha was quick to inform Jing Yuan and Blade of the state you’re in. 

“Hand them to me,” Luocha states, holding his arms out.

Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus carefully lower your body in Luocha’s arms before watching the blond man disappear to your bedroom to tend your wounds. Jing Yuan and Blade stare at the bloodied floor. There were bloody handprints on the walls and floors of the Astral Express. You tried to put up a fight, but you were outnumbered and were brutally injured by the Voidrangers Reavers. 

Jing Yuan sighs, rubbing his temples. “How did this happen?”

Blade chuckles humorlessly. “And I thought the Astral Express was safe for [Y/N] to stay at, but I was wrong,” Blade mutters.

“I understand we’re all tensed and worried about [Y/N], but now is not the time to start an argument. I don’t care who you are or what you mean to [Y/N]. They’re in their room, fighting for  their life right now, and you think it’s a good time to start something?” Gepard demands, glaring at the long, dark-haired man before him.

Blade’s red eyes flicker to Gepard’s face, staring at the Captain of the Silvermane Guards wordlessly. Blade clenches his jaws, walking over to the closed door of your room. He leans against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to listen to any sound that comes from your room. He hears nothing. 

“Cheer up, everyone! On the bright side, Mr. Yang was able to feel a pulse. The downside is waiting for them to recover,” Sampo says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Luka sighs, closing his eyes. “While we wait for Luocha to treat [Y/N]’s injuries, we should organize and clean up the Astral Express while we wait,” Luka comments.

Everyone was reluctant to leave the Passenger Cabin to organize the furniture of the Parlor Car. The Parlor Car took less damage and wasn’t nearly as horrendous as the Passenger Cabin. Pom-Pom had a hard time trying to resume his duties as the conductor of the Astral Express. All Pom-Pom wanted to do was to check and see if you were okay. Still, the others prevented him from entering the Passenger Cabin because the Passenger Cabin was going under a deep clean.

“[Y/N] will be okay, Pom-Pom. You have nothing to worry about. Luocha is tending [Y/N]’s wounds right now, and he should be finished soon,” Jing Yuan reassures Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom sniffles, blinking at the General while his bottom lips tremble. The others don’t know what else to say to console the conductor. Pom-Pom witnessed you get attacked mercilessly. You willingly sacrifice yourself to make sure Pom-Pom is safe and out of harm’s way. While scared shitless and fearing for your life, you put someone else before you because you would rather take the hit than have someone take the hit for you.

“I’m going to make sure there aren’t any breaches on the train,” Blade mutters, walking away from the group.

After what feels like days, Luocha steps into the Parlor Car, looking visibly relieved. Everyone immediately stands up, walking to the blond man. Luocha rubs his temples, letting out a deep breath. 

“After five hours of treating [Y/N]’s injuries, [Y/N] is now in a stable condition. If any of you are going to stop by and make sure they’re okay, please keep your voices down while they rest,” Luocha instructs.

Luocha turns around and walks to your bedroom, with everyone following. The Passenger Cabin is clean, and there aren’t any traces of your blood left behind. The smell of cleaning solution and air freshener wafts through the air, drowning the smell of your blood that barely lingers in the air. Luocha grabs the handle to your room and slides the door open. One by one, each person steps into your dimly lit bedroom. You lay on your bed, sound asleep. Bandages wrap around your body from the neck down, while small bandaids patch up the smallest cuts on your face.

“How long will it take for them to recover?” Sampo whispers, turning to look at Luocha.

Luocha shrugs, sighing. “That’s the issue. I don’t know how long it’ll take for them to recover. [Y/N] is in stable conditions, but now it’s up to them on when they will regain their consciousness,” Luocha replies. 

Gepard takes a step toward your bed, grabbing your frail hands and brushing his thumb over the bandages wrapped around your hands. To any other person, you look like you’re asleep, dreaming about anything. But to the others, it seems like you’re lying on your deathbed with one foot in the grave. It’s terrifying. To see you in such a state scares everyone. 

Gepard clears his throat. “And you said they’re in stable condition, correct?” Gepard asks, keeping his eyes on you.

Luka clears his throat. “I believe Luocha mentioned that a few times already, Gepard,” Luka comments, approaching the blond man and standing by his side.

Poor sweet Gepard. The once cool, calm, and collected Captain of the Silvermane Guard has a hard time trying to digest the image before him. Gepard is trying everything in his power not to break down in tears in front of everyone around him. You almost died. You were standing in front of death’s doorsteps, ready to walk through the doors, leaving him and the others for good.

But you didn’t walk through those doors. Luocha managed to heal you and patch your wounds, preventing you from taking your last breath.

Jing Yuan sits at the edge of your bed, tucking you in your bed and brushing your hair away from your face. Jing Yuan sighs, caressing your cheek. “What horrors did you face before your unfortunate fate?” Jing Yuan whispers, scanning your unconscious face.

Everyone remains silent in your room, staring at your unconscious body. Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus can’t help but drown in guilt. You wanted to join them, and they wouldn’t let you tag along with them due to safety concerns. But look where that landed you in. You’re injured, you were so close to death, but Luocha was able to save you and prevent that from happening.

Everyone starts to slowly and reluctantly leave your bedroom. Before they leave, they would squeeze your unconscious hand and whisper apologies for not arriving on time and for failing to protect you. Everyone is ridden with guilt. Soon enough, you’re left alone in the comfort of your bedroom.  

You jerk up with a gasp, only to find yourself in someone’s muscular arms. You look up to see Nanook. The Aeon stares down at you while cradling you in his arms. You blink at him and rub your eyes sleepily, looking around the void. You freeze when you realize you’re not your regular height. You’re almost the same height as Nanook. You and Nanook are covering the sun and the sky. 

Nanook tucks your hair behind your ears, kissing the shell of your ears, sighing. “How are you feeling, little one?” Nanook whispers.

“I’m tired, but I’m also confused,” you murmur, closing your eyes.

You and Nanook sit in silence. Nanook runs his fingers through your hair, rubbing your back and holding you close to his chest. There’s no space between you two, but you didn’t mind it. It feels nice to be in someone’s arms. It feels nice to be held. You’ve been yearning for someone to touch and hold you. You can’t help but notice your entire body feels tingly. You shift around in Nanook’s arms, opening your eyes to look down at your body. When you did that, you let out a choked gasp and jolted in Nanook’s grasp, startling the Aeon of Destruction.

You hold out your arm, looking up at Nanook. “Nanook... What’s going on!?” You whisper.

There are stars decorating your skin from head to toe. The stars glitter on your skin like diamonds and precious gems. It’s all over your body, and you don’t know what to do, nor do you know how it got there. You try to wipe it off your skin, only for it not to budge. It’s like you have an entire galaxy scattering across your body.

Nanook grabs your chin and tilts your head up. “The stars are healing you, little one. You were gravely injured back on the train. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer,” Nanook whispers.

You swallow the lump in your throat. The Astral Express. The attack. Pom-Pom. You sacrifice yourself to save Pom-Pom. All of it happened so fast that you could barely process the thought of it. Wait a minute, you’re not dead, are you? Sure, Nanook said the stars are healing you, but what about your physical body outside of your mind? Outside of the void?

“I’m not dead, am I?” You whisper.

Nanook snorts, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart. You’re not dead, little one. Your physical body is currently recovering. That blond man was able to heal your injured body,” Nanook says, kissing your forehead.

You close your eyes, sighing in relief. You’re so glad you’re not dead. 

“Besides, I wouldn’t let you die. Not on my watch,” Nanook mutters.

You smile, wrapping your arms around Nanook’s torso and sighing with contentment. It’s just you and Nanook in the void. No dangers lurking in the corner, no one to bother you. It’s just you and Nanook surrounded by the glittering stars of the abyss, enjoying each other’s presence in silence. 

While you’re with Nanook, your physical body has healed back to its original form before the attack. No scars are left on your body, and there are no bruises and small cuts. You look good as new. Luocha did a fantastic job at healing your body, and he would like to pat himself on the back for that. Despite your body being fully healed and in perfect condition, you did not wake up.

You’re still unconscious, but it’s like you’re sleeping instead of being in a coma. You move around in your sleep and react to the sounds around you, but you have yet to open your eyes since the attack. 

“I thought they would regain their consciousness by now,” Blade mutters, sitting at the end of your bed while staring at your unconscious body.

Luocha sighs, getting up from your bed and crossing his arms over his chest. “While [Y/N] is physically healed of their injuries, it’s up to them to decide when to wake up from their unconsciousness,” says Luocha.

“But it's been days since the attack! How much longer are they going to be unconscious? Are you sure [Y/N]’s okay?” Sampo asks, looking at Luocha pleadingly. 

Yes, it’s been days since the incident, and there are no signs of you waking up any time soon. Yes, you react to the noises around you, and yes, you’re physically okay and have healed from your injuries, but you’re still not awake. March wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up and then go back to sleep to play tricks on everyone, so she would check up on you every other hour (if she wasn’t asleep).

Everyone has decided to stop by your room to visit you every day, making sure you’re still breathing. Luocha even took that chance to make sure there weren’t any internal injuries or bleeding, and thankfully, there were none. You’re physically okay, but mentally…. They’re not sure about that.

“They must’ve been so scared in their final moments,” March whispers.

Caelus gives March a look. “March, why are you putting it that way? It’s like you’re implying [Y/N]’s dead!” Caelus scolds the pink-haired girl.

March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s been days since we last saw [Y/N] open their eyes! Not being able to text them, talk to them, hang out with them feels like an eternity!” March exclaims.

While unconscious, you still managed to pick up every noise around you. You flinch and whimper in your unconscious state, eyebrows furrowing. Mr. Yang looks at March and Caelus, shaking his head with disapproval.

“March, I understand you miss them, but you need to remember that we can’t control when they can regain consciousness,” says Mr. Yang.

Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose before approaching your bed. He sits at the edge of your bed and stares at your unconscious face. The longer Dan Heng stares at your face, the more he realizes something is off.

“What’s that?” Dan Heng asks.

Gepard walks over to where Dan Heng is standing, watching the black-haired man gently grab your face and tilt your head to the side. The others crowd behind Dan Heng and Gepard, staring at your face while trying to see what Dan Heng is looking at. If anyone were to blink, they would’ve missed it because it was quick to appear and disappear. 

Gold runs through your veins across your face. The pattern reminds them of thunder. It starts at the base of your neck, slithering up and across your face before disappearing. Gepard gently nudges Dan Heng to caress your head. Gepard pulls your eyelids up, and alas, the color of your eyes changes from your original eye color to gold.

“Could it be….?” Gepard trails off, furrowing his eyebrows with concentration.

Gepard blinks, and your eyes return to their original color. Blade turns to look at the other men, his chest puffing with anger while gritting his teeth. He clenches his hands into tight fists until they turn white underneath his gloves. 

“Is it possible for Nanook, the Aeon of Destruction, to hold [Y/N] as a prisoner in their mind?” Blade asks.

Jing Yuan chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can’t be certain that Nanook is holding [Y/N] a prisoner in their mind. It’s possible that the Aeon is doing that, but [Y/N] sustained many injuries, and it’s possible their body is keeping them in a comatose state for them to fully heal mentally and physically,” Jing Yuan explains.

Luka hums, shrugging his shoulders. While Luka may have known you for a short time compared to the other men, he doubts Nanook is going to harm you. Before meeting you, Sampo and Gepard would describe you as “Nanook’s chosen one” to Luka. It’s a ridiculous title, but it’s the best they can do to describe how important you are to Nanook. They would praise your beauty and mention the strong connection they feel to you when they’re with you and when they meet you for the first time.

“What if Nanook is keeping [Y/N] asleep because he’s worried about their safety? Like Blade said, it’s possible for Nanook to keep them as a prisoner. I don’t think prisoner isn’t the best way to describe the situation, but Nanook has never hurt [Y/N], has he?” Luka asks, turning to look at the eight men.

Mr. Yang sighs, shaking his head. “[Y/N] never mentioned anything about Nanook hurting them in any way. The only thing we know is that Nanook is very fond of [Y/N], hence why they’re in our world in the first place. Nanook would communicate with [Y/N] through their dreams every time they fall asleep,” Mr. Yang explains, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

While the men are discussing the situation and what they all have witnessed, in your unconscious mind, you’re lying against Nanook. You don’t know how long you’ve been with Nanook, but you like the peace and quiet. While you love being in the void with Nanook, basking in his presence, light touches, and affections, you can’t help but find the void a little bit dull and boring.

How does Nanook deal with this alone? Maybe Nanook is used to it because he’s been around for thousands of years compared to you, a newcomer. You move away from Nanook, grabbing the Aeon’s attention. You sigh, looking around at the sparkling stars in the night sky. Nanook peeks at you, gazing at you worriedly when you let out an apprehensive sigh. Nanook wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his bare chest against your back.

Nanook presses his lips against the shell of your ear. “What’s wrong? Why are you sighing like that?” Nanook murmurs, massaging your hip bones while resting his chin on your shoulders.

How do you tell Nanook that you know he’s keeping you in your “dreams” for a long time? You tried to wake up, but you can’t. You have tried many methods of trying to wake yourself up from this never-ending dream, only to fail in the end. You love being with Nanook, and you don’t mind being in the void with the Aeon, but you can’t possibly stay here forever, can you?

“I know you’re keeping me here, and you’re not letting me leave,” you said hesitantly.

Crap that sounds bad. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Think, [Y/N], think! You turn to look at the Aeon of Destruction, who gazes at you blankly. Even though Nanook is gazing at you emotionlessly, you can’t help but feel intimidated by the look he’s giving you. You gulp and grab Nanook’s hands, squeezing them.

You smile at him. “I’m not upset with you for wanting to keep me here. I want to know why you’re keeping me here and refusing to let me wake up,” you murmur.

Nanook sighs, releasing your hand before backing away from you. You let your hands fall to your side as you watch him grow in size. It took you a few seconds to realize you’re back to your original size, and Nanook is now towering over you, still covering the sun and the sky. Fuck, Nanook is not upset with you, is he?

“That is none of your concern, little one,” Nanook states, crossing his arms over his chest.

You frown. “It is very much my business, Nanook. You’re keeping me here with you when my physical body is lying on my bed, unconscious, while my friends are probably wondering why I’m still not awake!” You exclaim.

You wince when your voice echoes in the abyss. Nanook stares at you with a deep frown. You sigh, turning away from Nanook and walking away. You didn’t get far. A hand grabs your wrist, turning you around to face the hand that belongs to a certain Aeon. Nanook, now standing before you, is frowning at you. While he’s the size of a regular person, he continues to tower over you like the men you call your very friends. You assume Nanook is the same height as Jing Yuan but maybe slightly taller than the white-haired General of the Xianzhou Luofu.

“Your friends failed to keep you safe. They left you alone on that train, and what happened? The Astral Express was under attack, and it nearly cost your life!” Nanook growls. “You’re safer here with me than you are with them! Why should I trust them to be around you when they failed at something they were supposed to do in the first place?!”

Tears blur your vision, and you look away from Nanook. Nanook sighs and caresses your face, wiping the tears that slowly make their way down your cheeks. He pulls you into his arms, wrapping both arms around your shoulders while caressing the back of your head and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, my precious gem. Witnessing you getting attacked and not being able to do something about it hurts me deeply. I thought I could trust your traveling companions to protect you, but I was wrong,” Nanook murmurs. 

You tighten your grip around Nanook, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s not Nanook’s fault for not being able to protect you, nor is it your friends’ fault either. They wanted you to stay on the Astral Express to protect you, and it was going smoothly until the Astral Express was under attack. It wasn’t like they could predict what was going to happen to the train while they were away.

You swallow the lump in your throat, rubbing Nanook’s back. “It’s no one’s fault, Nanook. My friends were trying to protect me from the dangers on Jarilo-VI, but they didn’t think the Astral Express was going to be under attack. Please don’t blame them or yourself. It’s no one’s fault,” you whisper, pulling away from the hug.

Nanook stares at you. A deep frown remains on Nanook’s face while his eyebrows are furrowing with frustration. You gingerly reach up to Nanook’s face, rubbing his eyebrows, causing the Aeon to stare at you with confusion. Nanook grabs your wrist, raising an eyebrow at you. You and Nanook stare at each other in silence.

“What are you doing?” Nanook mutters, tilting his head to the side.

You clear your throat, lowering your hands awkwardly. “You were furrowing your eyebrows. I thought I should smooth the scrunch away,” you reply.

Nanook smiles with amusement, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “Stars, I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” Nanook thinks, squeezing you so tight you swear your back might pop. “Why can’t I have you for myself?”

Nanook snaps out of his thoughts when you call his name softly. 

“Are you alright?” You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft, luscious hair.

Nanook exhales deeply through his nostrils, nodding in response. Nanook doesn’t want you to regain your consciousness outside of the void. He can keep you here for eternity for all he’d like, but that would be selfish of him to do so. But why does it matter? Nanook is the one that brought you into this universe in the first place! Why do other people have to interfere and develop feelings for you too? It’s simply not fair. Nanook wants you for himself, and he doesn’t want to share you with anyone.

POP!

You groan and pat Nanook’s biceps to grab his attention. “You just popped my back, Nanook. Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, lightly pushing him away to get a clear look at his face.

Nanook quickly apologizes and peppers your face with small kisses. You sigh and lean into his arms while he sways side to side with you. Your eyelids begin to get heavy as you slowly fall asleep, your vision turning black, and the last thing you feel is Nanook kissing your forehead.

The voices around you are muffled, almost like you’re underwater, and they’re above the surface. As you regain consciousness, you realize the voices around you are bickering. You groan and smack the nearest thing, earning a loud yelp.

“Ouch! Gumdrop, why did you hit me?!” Sampo whines.

You crack your eyes open to see nine faces peering down at you. Dear Aeons, you did not expect to see nine faces staring at you while you were unconscious. You rub your eyes and try to sit up. Sampo tackles you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You groan when you feel your back pop. Gepard and Luocha grab Sampo by the shoulders and pull the indigo-haired man back.

“Be careful! [Y/N] is still recovering from their injury,” Gepard says, shaking his head with disapproval. 

Luocha kneels beside you and brushes your hair from your face. “How are you feeling, Stardust? Any aches and pains?” Luocha asks, eyeing you closely.

You move your arms, move and stretch your legs. So far, you feel fine as ever! “I feel okay. Nothing is hurting, but I do feel like I need to go to a chiropractor,” you say, rubbing the knot in your back.

“[Y/N]. We’re so sorry this happened to you. You wanted to join us, and we didn’t let you accompany us to Jarilo-VI because we wanted to keep you safe from danger. Instead, the Astral Express was under attack, and you were gravely injured,” Caelus says, grabbing your hands and squeezing them.

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew this was going to happen, Caelus. No one is at fault,” you whisper.

“We feel guilty for what happened. We’re not leaving you on the Astral Express alone next time. You’re safer with us than you are alone. Whether you’re on the Astral Express or not,” says Dan Heng.

You open your mouth to respond, but the lights in your room flicker on and off. The men standing around your bed tense up and form a barrier around you, drawing their weapons. The silence in your room was loud, so loud that everyone in the room could hear heavy footsteps approaching your room. The door swings open and enters a towering figure.

You peek between Jing Yuan and Blade’s shoulders, eyes widening when you see…

“Nanook. What are you doing here?” You whisper, getting up from your bed.

You’re about to walk toward Nanook, but Blade and Jing Yuan block your way, glaring at the Aeon of Destruction. Nanook raises his eyebrows at Blade and Jing Yuan, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Nanook clears his throat, watching the nine men stand around you while gazing at the Aeon warily.

Nanook sighs. “Since your…. Friends…. Can barely protect the one I find most precious and hold dear to my heart, I might as well join you on your journey across the universe,” says Nanook.

Blade clenches his jaws. “Oh? The Aeon of Destruction is joining us in our journey?” Blade sneers, tightening his grip around the sword.

“Should we trust him?” Luka whispers, not taking his eyes off the Aeon of Destruction.

Nanook merely rolls his eyes and walks toward the group, reaching over Blade and Jing Yuan to grab you. Nanook wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you forward. Nanook wraps his arms around your waist and kisses the side of your head, refusing to take his eyes off the group behind you.

Jing Yuan pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Keep your guard up at all times,” Jing Yuan instructs, keeping his eyes on the Aeon.

Perhaps you should’ve stayed a prisoner in your mind. The tension between your traveling companions and Nanook is so thick and awkward. You don’t know what to do other than be caught in the middle of the ten men. Nine of the men are glaring at the Aeon while the Aeon is running his fingers through your hair, gazing at the fuming nine men with mirth. Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Note: I hope you all like this fic! Nanook is officially physically in the fic! >:D I wonder what's going to happen now that Nanook is physically in the fic with everyone now! Also, I hope you Luocha wanters have Luocha now! I have Luocha after spending money because Welt ended up coming home instead of Luocha 🥹 Got me spending all of my stellar jades too 😔 anyway! For those who want to be tagged in upcoming HSR fics, I have finally made a taglist form right [HERE]! Oh, and for those who want to, my discord is officially opened! This link is temporary and will expire after seven days. If you want to join, here is the link to [Zhongli's Abode]! If you like the server, you can stay! If it's not your cup of tea, then you can leave whenever you want! Please make sure to read the server rules when you join the server ^^ To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR fics: Will be tagging people when the taglist form is filled out :)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[bellafragolina]

Little tidbits for a scenario cliche that I always find enjoyable 👉👈

- While on your train ride home from work, you're approached by a rather unpleasant man who insisted that you give him your undivided attention.

- In fear of what the stranger might do when you're not looking, combined with the realization that the few other passengers have already boarded their next train, you relent, and stare at him as you stand in an empty area of the station.

- Come home with him, he all but demands- he'll show you a good time, promise! However, you'd do literally anything but that. But, after turning him down several times, the man keeps pushing, forcing you to give a typical "I have a partner" line despite being single.

- Of course he doesn't believe you, voicing his thoughts of how your 'partner' should escort you home when it's so late in the evening. A pretty thing such as yourself shouldn't be alone at such a time, he sneers.

- You're desperate to get away from the stranger, his sudden invasion of your personal space has you smelling the pungent scent of cheap alcohol. Ah, that explains his behavior.

- No matter how much distance you put between him by walking backwards or jogging, he was always just one step too close. You began to believe it would not end favorably for you.

- Until two familiar figures entered your peripherals. At this point it didn't matter who it was, so long as it wasn't just you and the drunken man alone in the area. You called out to them, pretending to know them as you tried to hide your terrified state.

- Both figures turned to notice you nearly cornered by the stranger and instantly jumped in to help. You silently thanked any higher powers for sending the Subway Bosses of all people to assist you. The brothers were highly respectable and trustworthy to boot.

- "Darling, there you are!" Emmet cooed, feigning ignorance towards the man, slowly stepping close enough to subtly glare daggers at him. Ingo, wanting nothing more than to reprimand him, held his tongue in favor of the delicacy of the situation. "Yes, it is wonderful to see you. Will you allow us to escort you home, my dear?" The older twin almost tripped over his words from referring to you in a romantic manner.

- Seizing his opportunity, Emmet gently grabbed your hand and maneuvered you alway from your pursuer and behind him, Ingo appearing by your side as a secondary means of protection. "Y-Yes, please, honey. It gets pretty lonely on the train, sometimes." Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. You just called Subway Boss Ingo 'honey', and Subway Boss Emmet was tightly holding your hand! Arceus have mercy on your soul...

- The drunkard admitted defeat and stumbled onto another train. Although he knew who the two men were and what they were capable of, he'd rather not take his chances in potentially being punched or arrested.

- Once he was finally out of sight, you let out a deep sigh of relief, thanking the station masters whilst also apologizing. Emmet, hand still locked with yours and swinging it back and forth, tilted his head to better meet your eyes and flashed a warm smile. "I am Emmet. I am glad you are safe." Ingo tilted his conductor's cap to hide his reddened face, nodding. "There is no need to thank us, we simply did what any good bystander would've done."

- With the lingering adrenaline pumping through your veins, you quickly kissed the younger twin's cheek, then his brother's in an act of gratitude before separating your hand from Emmet's and then yourself- knowing that if you didn't catch the last train then you'd be forced to walk home on foot.

- You half-shouted one last thank you and sprinted to board your ride home, leaving a flustered pair of conductors in your wake.

- Emmet missed the warmth your soft hand provided. Ingo found himself curious to learn more about you. You'd definitely piqued the twins' interest, as the following days proceeding that night had their focus drifting to you, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you again in the station.

- Not too longer after, some time around a week later, you were the one to seek them out first. You offered to treat them in any way they'd like; breakfast, lunch, dinner, perhaps just having coffee or sweets together. They accepted your offer in a heartbeat, eager to merely spend time with you regardless of the how or why.

- Emmet and Ingo enjoyed your company, as you enjoyed theirs just as much. A friendship quickly blossomed between the three of you, and though you didn't have the courage to tell them, you had fallen for the train twins the moment they protected you that one night so long ago.

- And maybe, just maybe, they'd muster up the strength the admit their feelings to you, too. 🤍🖤🚂

(Went a little off track but the trope is called something like 'fake relationship' I think? Like you'd see in Spy x Family with Loid and Yor. But the people in the fake relationship would slowly realize they actually love each other for real (ú//v//ù))

YESSSS

I love this SO MUCH!!! Yes, I love the cheek kisses, I love the hand holding, I love how flustered the boys got, i love it all!!

Thank you so much for sharing this with me I’m gonna daydream about it constantly now yessssssss!!

The boys pining always makes my heart swoon <3

~Renee

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Untitled - 2

(Continuation of Untitled Linzin fanfic, pre-canon AU, wip)

---------------------------

The scenery passed by quickly as the train chugged on farther and farther away from Republic City.

Tenzin was grateful that they had a private compartment ("Of course sir, nothing less for a master!" The conductor had gushed when he led them in.). The trip was bound to be long and he had never travelled via train with his daughters before.

As he had expected, both girls had eagerly raced to the compartment - clambering up the seats to press their faces to the window to look out.

“Kids, that could be dirty!” He called out unhelpfully, stowing some of their carry-ons on the storage at the top of their seats.

Both children ignored him, too enthralled by the experience.

The other adult in their compartment clicked her tongue. “Ikki, Jinora, your father’s right – that is unsanitary.” Lin Beifong shook her head, and pulled out a couple of wet paper towels from her bag, wiping off the window and handing a pair to each of the girls. “Wipe your face and hands please.”

The seven-year-old frowned but took the towel and did as ordered. The younger child eagerly cleaned her face and fingers.

 That had been an hour or so ago, once the novelty passed, Jinora settled beside him, opening a book. While his youngest, Ikki had curled on Lin's lap earlier and was now sleeping.

It was funny how Lin was able to quickly claim his daughter’s heart a few weeks back by scolding one of the acolyte’s kids who was making fun of Ikki’s hair.

Lin had simply rolled his eyes at him when he shared that night that the boy’s mother had gone to him about his guest making her son cry. “He was making your daughter cry and I’m not about to stand there like the rest of the acolytes and not do something about it, you know.” He promised to talk to the acolytes about it. “And what’s one more acolyte not liking me,” She said sardonically. “None of them do anyway.”

Ironically, he would have argued against it. The amount of time she spent with various acolytes in his household the previous weeks would be his reason to dispute. He wisely remained silent, however.

Lin was absentmindedly combing her hand through Ikki’s hair, something that he knew relaxes the child. He would know – he liked it when she used to do the same to him back when he had hair years and years ago.

Like father, like daughter.

The earthbender had her eyes closed, but he knew she was still very much alert. The tension on her shoulders never really left from the time they left Republic City.

The past weeks were something he was glad to leave behind.

From the moment Toph Beifong stood up to vehemently argue against Bumi and Lord Zuko, Tenzin thought it was over and they would be back to square one. He was thinking if the other Temples were sturdy enough should there be an attack. He figured it he were able to ensure that, it would be safe to bring his family there until the Red Lotus situation blows over.

Words were said that night. There were looks tossed around, laden with meaning that he did not understand. His mother, the former Republic City Chief of Police and the previous Fire Lord would have probably ended up in a showdown of elements had Baatar Senior not knocked at the nick of time, timidly asking for Tenzin as Ikki had woken up looking for her father.

They were all reminded what they were fighting about. And the rest…

Well, he shook his head to rid himself of the memory, here they were now.

He turned to the woman across him.

The simple band wrapped around the earthbender’s ring finger, inconspicuous as it goes through his daughter’s hair but nonetheless a concrete proof of their marriage.

---

Note: sooo there we have it - I’ll be posting stuff here in chunks so there will be more frequent (but short) updates here in tumblr. 

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 9

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time       Rating: General Audience       Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves     Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

If Dominic wasn’t absolutely sick with worry, he would be enjoying the view. 

He had been led away from the medical hut, the Elder leading the way out of the village and up a well worn path. One that was leading up into the surrounding rocky hills filled with vibrant jungle foliage. Allowing a good view of both the village, and the rest of the expansive jungle. The mountain could just barely be seen from the heavy fog. They traveled until they were surveying the entire village in the valley it was resting in.

“Why not take a seat, dear friend.” The Elder had claimed a seat on a rather smooth rock, his staff leaning nearby as he relaxed.

“...We’re rather far from your village.”

“I understand your worries. I can only assume with what you’ve seen and experienced on your journey that would put you on the defensive to any stranger. But I assure you, the Child of Pure Fire is more than safe here. As are you.”

“The...Child of Pure Fire?” Dominic’s eyes looked down at the Elder’s hand. Which was casually patting the area next to him. The penguin sighed and did as was silently asked of him.

“It is how we refer to all children who are directly tied to the Celestial Phoenix.” The Elder answered after Dominic settled down.

“So...you know who Amos is.”

“Very much so. With his unique physical characteristics, it was hard not to figure out.”

“I suppose so.”

“My village and those surrounding this mountain hold ancestors who learned and grew from the Celestial Phoenix’s fire. We know those children of the Phoenix.”

“So, wait, are you not a child of the flame thing as well?”

The Elder laughed softly. “Our ancestors may have been. But we have long since lost the flame that connects us directly to him.”

“It must be an interesting feeling to know you’re related, in someway, to such a being.”

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

Dominic raised a brow at that. “I’m...not sure I understand.”

“We have the belief that the Celestial Phoenix is connected to all living beings.”

“But I’m a Moon Penguin. You know...ice? I’m pretty sure I would know fairly quickly if I held a Phoenix flame.”

“I’m sorry child, I was not speaking in such a literal way. It’s more of the idea that the Phoenix gives that needed spark for life to begin. So, in some way, we are all connected to the celestial being. As he is needed for us to live.”

“I suppose that makes some sort of sense.” 

“Indeed.”

“Would those Fire Spirits in the Subcon Woods be direct descendants of this Phoenix?” Dominic asked, leaning forward with interest.

“I believe so,” the Elder nodded, “They do hold similar features as your companion.”

“Huh...I suppose they do.”

“Speaking of your companion. I am to assume you are here to reach the peak of Starlight Mountain.”

“Yes. The flame Amos carries has been burning hotter each day, more than what he can handle sometimes. He...He said there’s something here that will help him.”

“He is correct. But I would like to add, he doesn’t seem to have the uncontrollable flame that you seem so worried about.”

“To be fair to him, Amos is not awake at the moment.”

The Elder laughed. “While that is a fair point, even passed out the host of a flame can be harmful. Your Amos seems to be more in pain by whatever has been put into him than the flame itself.”

Dominic flushed, feeling his feathers puff out. “I- My Amos? I just… W-We’re just- We’re both directors, we share the same studio. Funny story about that. B-But we are not…”

“Oh, my apologies. I was merely assuming after watching you bring the Child to us, you two were together.”

“I mean, I’m just worried about my...my friend.”

“I was speaking more on behalf of your friend. Creatures of fire, when in peril, will attack. Even if unconscious. Unless they know they’re with someone they truly feel safe with.”

Dominic swears his face was burning hotter than anything Amos’ fire could do. “That can just be the reliance of a friend as well.”

“...I suppose you’re right.”

“Look, can you just answer something for me.”

“Of course.”

“This...whatever is at the peak that we’ve been trying to reach. It will help Amos, right?”

The Elder sighed softly. Which didn’t calm Dominic’s frazzled nerves. “In truth, it’s all dependent on your friend.”

“What...does that mean?”

“If your friend has a strong enough will, then he’ll continue to live.”

“I- but- no!” Dominic stood, “You can’t tell me that this entire trip was for nothing! This was supposed to help him. Heal him.”

“This is not something that can be controlled or changed by me or you. If you want him to live, you will need to put faith in your friend.”

“Put faith in a bird who only stopped doing dangerous, life-threatening stunts? Who, I’m sure, was only doing this as a way to possibly get himself ‘accidentally’ killed. Or, would you rather I put faith in the owl that has been drinking himself to death for who knows how long? Or how about the version of Amos that works so hard for so long that he will pass out for 10 hours straight? Which version do you want to put your faith into?”

The Elder didn’t reply, merely stared at the penguin’s shaking form. Dominic, on his part, was absolutely sick with fear. This was all supposed to be a journey to get Amos healed. That was the goal. Now, being told this was all reliant on the owl’s self-esteem, Dominic felt as if he’d already lost Amos.

“I...can’t lose him… Please tell me there is something I can do.”

“Perhaps you will be his beacon to remain.”

Dominic laughed weakly. “Me? I’ve been his rival for years. Sure, we didn’t kill each other on this trip. But he doesn’t need me. He...He has his family.”

“Yet you just listed off his dangerous activities. Wouldn’t he be happy if you assumed his family would be enough to keep him here.”

“I… Whatelse could I add to his life?”

“Everyone can offer their needed points in other’s lives.”

“I would not be the one he would need for that. At least, not the point to keep him happy. I have my own problems… I’m not meant to be ‘helpful’. I’m not built like that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Dominic laughed bitterly. “Would you like to ask the number of beings who kept my bed warm until morning came? I’m a good distraction, not a relationship.”

“To build a relationship, it requires two or more to make it strong. It must also start with knowing you want to pursue something. Do you want that?”

“...I do.”

“With him?”

Did he? Did he really want to stay with someone who he’s carried a rivalry with for so long? The person he’s hurled insults to from across the studio floor? Someone who the penguin constantly tried to impress with his own showcase his own story telling skills. An internal battle to not back down and to hope this feud would end so they could create something together.

Dominic frowned as he crossed his arms, suddenly feeling small. “...I do. He has that spark that I haven’t seen in others. It's so admirable. He’s admirable. He’s honestly my drive to make such amazing things. I want to impress him. When we were younger, it was to show him I was better. Now...I really just want him to look at me…”

“That is something worth pursuing.”

They turned back to the village when a loud call was heard coming from the medical hut. A few healers fled from said place as the shouting continued.

“It seems as if your ‘friend’ is awake,” the Elder commented as he stood, “Shall we go check on him?”

“Yes, preferably before he hurts himself or anyone.”

Dominic rushed back down the hillside, slightly worried that the Elder felt the need to take his time hobbling after, and entered the hut. To find Amos standing on the bed he’d no doubt been resting on a few minutes before. The owl yelling furiously while holding a stool above his head like a weapon.

“And if someone doesn’t start talkin’, I’ll be whackin’ yer head off yer peck necks one by one!”

“Amos!” 

The owl was startled, attention going to the agitated penguin standing by the doorway. The stool was promptly dropped. Amos wobbly climbing off the bed and over to Dominic. “Yer okay…”

“What are you doing? Threatening these poor people who’ve been helping us. Why would you- whoa!” Dominic scrambled to collect Amos, who’s legs apparently stopped working. The penguin slowly lowering them to the floor. Amos desperately clinging to the other, his forehead resting on Dominic’s shoulder. 

“Whoa. Easy Sweetheart, just try and take it easy.”

“Yer okay…” Was Amos’ weakly muttered response. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. You were the one who was hit with a weird drug.”

“Yer okay…”

Dominic frowned, looking up to the remaining nomads who had inched out from the corner they’d been hiding in. “Is he okay?”

“Ah, Phoenix… Very dizzy.” Was the reply.

“Dizzy...from the drug?”

The nomad nodded before patting his chest. “Fire...blocked.”

“Blocked? Oh Amos… Let’s get you back to bed Sweetheart.” Dominic was thankful the owl was so light. Hollow bones were such a blessing in disguise at this moment. Amos started to panic again when he was placed back on the bed and Dominic pulled away. The penguin quickly corrected the action by taking Amos’ hands  “No, no, no, you’re alright. I’m right here, I won’t be leaving you.”

That seemed to calm Amos enough to allow him to relax, completely passed out in the next second. Dominic let out a weak sigh, giving a small thanks when a chair was passed to him, more or less collapsing into it. There was the familiar tapping sound drawing closer to the hut that announced the Elder’s arrival. A quiet conversation was held between him and the healer nomads before joining the penguin by the bed. 

“I’ve been informed that your friend had a bit of an episode when he woke.”

“They said his flame had been ‘blocked’.” Dominic voiced weakly, which the Elder merely nodded in agreement to. 

“Whatever was injected into him was able to extinguish it to a dangerous degree. Not enough to kill. But just enough to subdue. It’s his mortal side that is keeping him alive. I don’t know who has been hunting you. But they are knowledgeable and dangerous if they know how to take down a Phoenix.”

“He’ll be alright though, right?” The penguin desperately asked. 

“He woke up and threatened my people. I believe he will be just fine.”

“I-I am so sorry about that.”

The Elder laughed softly and waved his hand. “Please, do not worry yourself. He was not coordinated enough to harm anyone. Plus, with the situation he just left only to wake in a strange place, it was a reasonable reaction.”

Dominic let out another sigh, cradling his head in a hand. “Oh Amos…”

“I will tell you, he will be awake by tomorrow. Fairing much better than a few moments ago.”

“How far away are we from the mountain?”

“A day or two by walking. It would be best to make your entrance as quiet as possible. I will send word of your arrival. We have nomads living at the base who will be able to take you to the peak.”

“Right, yes, thank you.” Dominic flinched slightly when a hand was rested on his shoulder. 

“I will ask that you take tomorrow, all of tomorrow, to rest.” 

“W-We don’t have time.”

“Your friend is in no danger, his fire is contained. Give those terrible birds a bit of a slip. Get a chance to breathe. You both need a full day's rest after this.”

“I...don’t wish to impose.”

The Elder smiled. “I am making the offer. You have been welcomed here. We can have a feast even! A celebration of the Child’s return. Please, let yourself recover before facing the next great hurtle.” 

Dominic didn’t answer right away. He looked back up to Amos’ sleeping form. Reaching out to preen a few stray feathers before putting a hand back between both of his. Dominic smiled softly as Amos unconsciously squeezed back.

“Okay… Let’s have a feast.”

[kyoasatsu76]

BEYOND TWO WORLDS ( PART 2 )

The next day, Kyo and Ingo were walking heading towards a nearby town in Pasio. As they both taking a time off from training. He was still thinking about what happened to him last night. He didn't even heard Kyo calling him.

"INGO-SENSEI!!" she yelled.

He suddenly snap out and stares down at her. With a confused look on her face.

"Gee, your thinking about your girlfriend. We can meet Elesa if you want?" She teases.

"I told you Kyo, she's not my girlfriend. Eh... When did you know about that?" He asked.

"Emmet-sensei told me about it." She giggles.

He sighs as she still laughing. When suddenly someone approaches them.

"Are you happen to be the Pasio's Champion?"

Both of them turns around and saw a tall man with black hair, pale skin, and wearing a black outfit. He was standing next to his partner Pokémon, Corviknight. Kyo suddenly got excited to see a Corviknight up close. While Ingo felt something off with the strange man.

"How about Champion? Can I have a Pokemon battle against you?" He asked politely.

"Of course I a---." She pauses when Ingo suddenly raises his right hand. Stopping her.

"Eh... Ingo-sensei, why are you stopping me?" She asked.

The strange man notices it on how alert the Subway Master was. Until he starts laughing. Kyo suddenly taken aback as she got weirded out by the strange man as well. When she felt a stingy pain on her left palm. The strange man stated walking towards them. While Both Ingo and Kyo were walking away from him.

"The name's Reed Marshal. And I'm here to take that little girl's life!"

He suddenly dashes towards them. When Ingo suddenly pushes her away from him. And ended up getting grabbed by his neck and lifts him up. Kyo saw him getting strangle. As he tries to break free from his grasp. Surprisingly, Reed was only using his right hand.

"K-Kyo!!! Run!!!!" Ingo yelled.

She was scared but she tries to get up. And when she was about to run.

"Don't you want to save your Sensei? I mean you have failed to save Noland before. And now this. Such a shame that this one will die!"

"DON'T! LISTEN TO HIM!! GO!!!" Ingo yells in desperation.

Getting angry by his taunts. She suddenly charges in and kicks Reed into his groin. But he didn't react to it. He suddenly throws Ingo as Elekid and Excadrill tries catching him. As he lands safely. Reed grabs Kyo by her head. And grabs her left palm and removes her gloves. Revealing her curse mark.

"Before I finish you off. I will finish off your precious Sensei first." He threatened.

Suddenly, Corviknight uses it's Max move towards Ingo and their Pokémons. A large gust of whirlwind hits them. And he got tossed behind. Followed by Excadrill and Elekid fainted as they both falls down in front of him. He was shocked to see how much powerful Corviknight's attack was. He uses his pokeball and takes back Excadrill inside. As he starts running towards Reed. As he lifts her by her head. His claws were slowly digging up into her flesh. As the blood starts dripping down of her face. She started yelling in pain. Ingo tries running even more faster but with his injuries he trips and falls into the ground. Tears starts flowing from his cheeks.

"PLEASE STOP! DON'T DO IT! LET HER GO!!" He pleaded as his starts crying and he can't fight back to save her.

"You're far too naive to help your Sensei. Just like your always have been doing! Such stupid decision that your father let you stay in this world without them to help you! Now Die!!!" Reed yelled.

"NOOOOO!!!!!" Ingo yelled desperately.

Suddenly, Reed's right arm got cut off. As Kyo was safely got freed from Reed's grasp. A Sharpedo suddenly appears and catches her. When the Pokemon started flying its way to Ingo and he took her on his arms and carries her. Her eyes went white. While she starts breathing heavily. He stared at the blonde man who saved Kyo. While Reed wasn't please by this. Sharpedo returns to its trainer. As the blonde man turns towards him.

"You're the train conductor dude right? Get her out of here! And find a safe place! Now!" The blonde man yelled.

Ingo grabs her pokeball on her pocket and took Elekid with him. As he started running away. Carrying Kyo with him. Meanwhile, Reed reattached his right arm back.

"Tch. I thought I'm going have the ultimate power today. But I guess Mauvis sent out his dog here as well." He said irritatedly.

"I have a name a**hole. The name's Francois. And I am here to save my friend from you." He mocked.

Corviknight flies off and started attacking Sharpedo. But it dodges the attack. While Reed started attacking Francois. As he fights back with him using his knives.

Back in the house, Ingo and Kyo safely returns. And quickly lays her down in the couch. He then starts locking up the doors and windows. While Kyo was still on her state. Lying down into the couch. Despite being injured he wants to take care of her and their Pokémons injuries first. After taking care of the Pokémons. He notices her cursed mark from her left palm was bleeding again. He kneels down and started cleaning it up. But tears starts dripping down from his cheeks.

"Sorry Kyo... I.. I should be the one who saved you... But, your the one ended up saving me instead... *sniff* I'm a failure of a teacher.... I'm so sorry..." He cried.

Meanwhile, in Kyo's subconscious. She sees scenes of something that she wasn't familiar with. An abandoned mental hospital, abandoned village, a city was getting attack by dark creatures, her point of view pointing the gun at someone, and the people who she doesn't know.

She suddenly gains back her consciousness and starts coughing. Ingo notices it. And quickly approaches her and checked up on her.

".... Ingo-sensei..." She suddenly felt a headache.

As the sudden flash of images started hurting her head. Screaming in pain. Ingo suddenly hugged her. As she started crying.

"Ingo-sensei... I don't know what is happening to me... Please help me..." She cries in pain.

Nothing to do with the situation. He just embraces her and tries to calm her down.

Meanwhile in the Mansion. Kyouka notices that her father getting out of breath all of the sudden. As he starts falling into floor face down. His curse mark on his palm started to bleed as well.

"DAD!!" She yelled.

Both her and Gerald help him up. And puts him on the chair. As Kyouka went out to get some first aid kit. While Gerald stays behind and checking him up. Mauvis then stares his left palm with the curse mark on it.

"Kyo...." He said.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

[silver-lily-louise]

Planes, Trains, and Portalmobiles

‘Y’know, there’s a lot more standing around and waiting than I thought there’d be.' Magnus shrugs. ‘Why do you think I haven’t bothered with planes before now? Compared to a portal, they’re horribly inefficient.’

Post-Canon. On their way back to Alicante from a trip to Scotland, Magnus and Alec decide to take a few Mundane modes of transport for once. There are... mixed results.

Read it on AO3, or below!

~oOo~

‘Y’know, there’s a lot more standing around and waiting than I thought there’d be,’ Alec comments, readjusting the straps on his rucksack for the seventh or eighth time. Magnus shrugs. ‘Why do you think I haven’t bothered with planes before now?’ he points out, managing to add a surprisingly high dose of disapproval to his quiet words. ‘Compared to a portal, they’re horribly inefficient.’

The line moves up, and Magnus turns to him more fully, frowning a little. ‘You still have the passports, right?’ ‘Yes, Magnus,’ he says, fondly exasperated. They’ve been in this line for less than twenty minutes, and he’s given that same answer three times already. He leans closer, dropping his voice low enough that it’s only for his husband’s ears. ‘Not like you couldn’t conjure another couple if I had lost them, anyway.’ Magnus gives him a half-hearted glare. ‘True, but I might make a mistake if rushed,’ he insists. ‘What, like, put your real birthday or something?’ Alec says, his lips twitching up into a small grin. ‘I already think you’re pushing your luck claiming to be thirty-seven, by the way.’ Magnus smirks. ‘Hm. Afraid of being seen with a partner so much older than you?’ he teases, reaching out to straighten Alec’s collar. ‘Whatever will the good people of Edinburgh Airport think?’ Alec just stares at him, barely suppressing a laugh. ‘Everyone we know is fully aware that I married someone who’s started counting in centuries,’ he says, his tone ringing with exaggerated patience. ‘But sure, ten years would make me self-conscious.’

Whatever reply is undoubtedly forming on Magnus’ tongue is lost as they reach the front of the line, Alec producing their tickets and passports with an easy smile. Ordinarily, he’d let Magnus take the lead in situations like this, especially with things that require a little deception. But he hasn’t missed the tension in how Magnus is holding himself, nor the way his eyes dart to each unexpected sound. Alec doesn’t want to give him anything else to be nervous about. Or, for that matter, for his anxiety to be noticed by any airport staff and arouse suspicion.

Thankfully, it’s not too much longer until they’re actually on the plane. ‘Aisle or window?’ he asks, stowing his rucksack overhead. Magnus had insisted that they fly first class, which means that their seat is a duo, rather than the usual trio. Alec’s grateful for that now – they’ve got enough to think about without having to be mindful of a random Mundane sitting right next to them. ‘Aisle,’ Magnus says decisively. Alec had expected that, knowing that being hemmed in gives Magnus less space to wield his magic if he needs to. ‘Okay,’ he says, taking his window seat and settling back into the comfortable padding with a quiet sigh. Magnus snorts. ‘How are you so calm?’ he asks, taking his own seat. ‘It’s not like you’ve been on a plane before, either.’ Alec shrugs. ‘Thousands of Mundanes use them every day,’ he says. ‘And statistically, they’re incredibly safe. I was probably in way more danger walking around New York, especially while I was glamoured and invisible to traffic.’ ‘You have a point,’ Magnus admits.

Alec doesn’t miss how his husband still doesn’t relax, though. ‘It’s gonna be fine,’ he says quietly, reaching across to squeeze Magnus’ hand. ‘You know that, right?’ ‘For the most part,’ Magnus says, wearily. He gives a small, frustrated smile. ‘I’ve just… grown used to being in control of my own transport,’ he says. He gestures vaguely around them. ‘I’m not in control of this. I wouldn’t know how to be, without jeopardising the whole operation. And I know that it’s ridiculous to be anxious, but I also don’t know how my magic reacts at high altitudes, without proper connection to the earth – if we get into trouble, I don’t know if I can keep us safe, or – ‘

‘Well, that’s what the parachute is for,’ Alec says, cutting off Magnus’ increasingly-agitated tirade. Magnus looks at him, stunned. ‘…Alexander,’ he says carefully, ‘you are aware that planes don’t come with parachutes as standard, right?’ ‘Of course I am,’ Alec says, rolling his eyes, though carefully keeping his soft, reassuring smile in place. ‘That’s why I brought my own. Why else did you think I needed a carry-on?’ Magnus’ eyes briefly do their best impression of dinner plates. ‘You - Where the hell did you even get a parachute?’ ‘The Gard armory’s pretty well-stocked,’ Alec says, shrugging. ‘Even with some of the more obscure stuff. And there’s no metal in the mechanism, either, so the airport scanners would have just thought it was a bunch of fabric. A blanket or something.’ He smiles, a little pleased that he hasn’t lost the ability to surprise Magnus just yet. ‘So, if things go wrong when we’re up there, hold on to me and we’ll get out,’ he says simply.

Magnus just stares at him for a few moments longer, shaking his head silently as a voice over the intercom welcomes them aboard. ‘Nephilim,’ he says eventually, sounding practically awed in his disbelief. But when he settles back in his chair with a quiet, breathy laugh, he doesn’t look quite so nervous.

And when the seatbelt signs turn off a short while later, and a quick shimmer over his fingertips apparently confirms that his magic is under control, he relaxes completely, returning Alec’s smile with an honest one of his own.

***

The flight takes about ninety minutes, and by the time they’ve disembarked, collected their luggage (which is mostly for show, because travelers without luggage might draw Mundane attention) and are standing on the right platform at Heathrow’s train station, it’s mid-afternoon. The train pulls up from the right-hand-side, and they board. They’re promptly asked to show their tickets; but once that’s done and the conductor moves on, they’re practically alone, the rest of their carriage almost empty. (When they booked the tickets, Magnus said something about super-off-peak, which Alec still doesn’t see the point of. Surely the train runs the same no matter the time of day?)

Magnus leans against Alec’s shoulder, letting his eyes drift closed. ‘Perhaps it’s the adrenaline comedown, but I’m suddenly exhausted,’ he says, stifling a yawn. ‘Remind me why we had to get up at such an ungodly hour?’ ‘I asked you that this morning, and you said it was all part of the experience,’ Alec reminds him, letting his voice turn a little husky as he quotes his husband. Magnus huffs in displeasure. ‘I do not sound like that, Alexander,’ he protests. ‘Yeah, you do.’ ‘Hm. Do not,’ he argues, closing his eyes.

Alec chuckles. ‘Are you seriously going to sleep through this part?’ he asks. ‘What happened to experiencing Mundane transport?’ ‘I’ve been on trains before,’ Magnus points out, lazily waving a hand and throwing up the barest shimmer of a ward, just around their seats. ‘You can appreciate it enough for the both of us,’ he suggests. Alec snorts quietly - but Magnus really must have been tired, because he’s already asleep.

Alec looks out of the window, surprised to find that they’re already surrounded by greenery, despite having left London a relatively short time ago. Apparently, England’s not quite as rural as Alicante, but it’s a damn sight less urban than New York. His gaze flicks up to the scrolling banner above the doors, the one that declares which stops are coming up next. Their stop, Guildford (which, for some weird British reason, is apparently pronounced ‘Gill-furred’, instead of by saying the words which actually make it up) is pretty far along the list.

Magnus’ breathing is slow and rhythmic, now, and Alec feels tiredness tugging at his own awareness, like it’s trying to pull a comforter over his thoughts. But they can’t both fall asleep in public, no matter what the alluring quiet and warmth of the train carriage is saying. He ought to activate a stamina rune. Unfortunately, his stele’s in the pocket that Magnus is currently lying on top of; and he doesn’t want to wake his husband up, knowing that he didn’t sleep well last night.

I’ll grab it in a few minutes, he reasons. He’ll let Magnus sleep a while longer, and then make his attempt, just in case he wakes him irreversibly. He can make it a few more minutes.

He jumps to attention as Magnus’ phone goes off, reaching for a seraph blade that isn’t there – before gaining a little awareness and settling back down, glancing around to check that he hasn’t inadvertently made a scene. Thankfully, the only person close enough to have noticed his reaction is his husband, who extinguishes the dim sparks at his fingertips, raising a seemingly-amused eyebrow at Alec’s jumpiness before answering the offending cell phone. ‘Hello?’ ‘Magnus, w… ‘l are you?’ Alec catches through the speaker. ‘You sh… Gilf… ‘ly’n hour ago.’ ‘Ah,’ Magnus says, looking over at the scrolling banner – which now says The next station is Portsmouth Harbour, and Alec’s stomach drops as he realises what must have happened. ‘It seems we’ve taken a little detour. We’ll get off at the next station and portal straight to you as planned.’ He pauses, Ragnor’s reply lost in his grumpy tone. ‘Yes, all right. See you soon.’

Magnus hangs up, turning to Alec and giving him a sheepish smile. ‘It seems that we’ve missed our stop.’ ‘Looks that way,’ Alec mumbles. ‘Well, no matter.’ He snaps his fingers, apparently unfazed. ‘There. Two tickets for Portsmouth Harbor. Problem solved.’ ‘Great,’ Alec says, attempting a smile of his own. He sits back in his chair, looking down at where he’s unconsciously started fiddling with his wedding ring.

Magnus is too well-versed in his brush-off tactics to let him get away with that, though, and Alec soon finds his face gently pivoted towards his husband with a careful hand. ‘Alexander, is everything okay?’ he asks, his brow furrowed in soft concern.

‘Yeah,’ Alec says. ‘I mean it,’ he insists, when Magnus tilts his head as if to say come on, now. ‘Everything’s fine. It’s just…’ He sighs, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a rueful smile. ‘It might not have been. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I’m sorry.’ ‘It’s okay,’ Magnus says, his frown deepening a little in confusion. ‘You fell asleep first. Which means it was my watch,’ Alec points out.

At that, Magnus rolls his eyes, heaving a long-suffering sigh, though a gentle smile tugs at his lips. ‘It wasn’t your watch, darling,’ he says. ‘We’re not on some… quest through dangerous territory. You fell asleep on a train. It happens.’ ‘We’re still out on our own in public – ‘ ‘Which makes it a little embarrassing, especially since we missed our stop, but not dangerous,’ Magnus says firmly. ‘You saw me put up a ward before I fell asleep. I doubt your subconscious would have let you sacrifice your alertness, otherwise.’ ‘Magnus-‘

But he’s silenced by his husband holding up a finger to his lips, just shy of touching. ‘It’s good to let your guard down sometimes, Alexander,’ Magnus says softly. ‘It’s good to feel safe.’ He flashes a small, teasing smile. ‘Especially when you’re with me.’

Alec’s stomach twists again, but this time, it’s a warm, fluttery sensation, and he relents. ‘Okay,’ he murmurs – and he hums a little in contentment as he’s rewarded with a kiss.

They get off the train, their magically-adjusted tickets not giving them any problems at the gate, and they quickly discover that Portsmouth Harbour is a fairly literal name for this station – it’s practically on the water. ‘Those seagulls are huge,’ Alec says, as they wander through the streets to a quieter area, trying to find a safe place to glamor and portal without visibly disappearing. ‘Disproportionate,’ Magnus agrees. ‘A tiny country and a tiny stretch of water, and they’ve practically got albatrosses? I can’t say it makes a lot of sense to me.’

It’s not long before they’re ducking into an alleyway, and Magnus twirls one hand, calling a portal. His other hand reaches out to Alec’s, and he orders, ‘Hold on,’ like he always does when he knows their portal destination is new to his husband.

They step out onto a rolling expanse of green – large enough that the clouds above them cast the soft outlines of shadows, slinking across the grass like ships going by. Ragnor is there waiting, standing before them with a raised eyebrow and a small smile. ‘Took you long enough,’ he comments. ‘Oh, shut up,’ Magnus says lightly, stepping forward and embracing the other warlock briefly. They hadn’t seemed like those sort of friends, at first – both from what Alec himself had seen of them, and from what Clary and Jace had told him. He’d mentioned that casually to Magnus, once; and Magnus had thought for a second, before quietly explaining that he’s just found himself doing that more often – reaching for a hug, or accepting one – since Ragnor’s apparent ‘death’.

Which… yeah. Alec can definitely understand that.

He’s pulled back to the present moment as Ragnor extends an arm towards his impressive house, at the top of the hill and not too far from where they’re standing. ‘Shall we?’

Ragnor’s home proves to be pretty much exactly what Alec expected. With the eclectic furniture, old-world charm, and shelves of copious books and artifacts, it’s similar in a lot of ways to Catarina’s home, and to Magnus’ loft before it was Alec’s, too. Or, actually, if he’s being honest, for the first few months after. It was only in the process of moving their lives to Alicante that Magnus had insisted Alec assist with ‘a long-overdue redecoration.’ Magnus, he’d protested, we don’t have to, I like your place the way it is- But that’s exactly it, Alexander, Magnus had interrupted him. It’s our place. And if it’s going to feel like our marital home instead of my bachelor pad- (Alec had smirked at the phrasing, and had received a withering glare) - then it needs your input, too. Now: couches facing northwards, or east?

And maybe Alec had gone along with it just to appease his husband, at the time. But these days, he can’t deny that there’s a certain comfort in coming back to a home he’s had a hand in shaping.

Across the room, now, Magnus is looking at a painting hung in the stairwell, out of Alec’s eyeline, and shaking his head. ‘When will you get rid of this thing?’ he asks, with no small amount of distaste in his expression. ‘It reeks of a narcissism that doesn’t become you.’ ‘I will get rid of it when – or, more likely, if – it stops being useful,’ Ragnor says, holding a cup of what smells like very good coffee out to Alec, and returning his smile of thanks before pointing at a seat, silently inviting him to make himself comfortable. ‘Especially since you insisted I get rid of my wall of fire,’ he continues, glancing back at Magnus. ‘Because it was a ridiculous drain on your resources, and beyond superfluous once Valentine ceased to be a threat,’ Magnus scoffs, summoning his own drink before collapsing into the seat next to Alec’s like he owns the place. ‘If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with this place looking as tacky as Lorenzo’s,’ he adds, pointing accusingly at their host with his free hand.

Ragnor glares at him. ‘You ought to take that back whilst you still can, Magnus,’ he warns. Magnus raises his eyebrows, his mouth shrugging irreverently. ‘Or?’

But Ragnor doesn’t answer him directly. ‘Tell me, Alexander,’ he says, a wicked shine seeming to spark in his eyes. ‘Did your husband ever regale you with the story of the weekend he spent in Tuscany with Signor Simoni? How he ended up –‘ ‘All right,’ Magnus says loudly, huffing out a disgruntled breath. ‘All right, comment withdrawn.’ He glowers, though the effect is somewhat lost when he’s peering above his cup of tea. ‘Blackmailer. I try to look out for your good taste in your dotage, and this is how you thank me?’

Alec chuckles, not too bothered by the loss of a promised story. They’ve hosted Ragnor enough times by now that he has a general idea of how this evening’s going to go, and so he’s fairly certain he’ll get to hear it anyway.

One excellent roast beef dinner and several glasses of honeyed wine later, he’s proved exactly right.

***

The night they spend at Ragnor’s passes quickly. The three of them while away most of it talking, and when they eventually turn in, Ragnor’s guest room is inviting and comfortable, from the wooden floors that are warmer than they ought to be to the cool cotton sheets that are almost as soft as Magnus’ preferred silk. The magic that hums around them, guarding the house, is different, of course – it’s a little less heady, quieter and more distant, yet more persistent than the wards around their own home. But just when Alec is beginning to wonder if it’s too different for him to be able to fall asleep, Magnus rolls over and semi-consciously wraps an arm around his waist, his breathing evening out against Alec’s neck moments later.

A more familiar hum seems to resonate within Alec at the possessive gesture, and he smiles, closing his eyes. He sleeps the whole night through, peaceful and undisturbed.

The house comes to a sleepy start after the late night, and they partake in an indulgent ‘Full English’ brunch before deciding to make the most of the sunshine, going for a walk around a few of the meadows and small stretches of forest bordering Ragnor’s own land. Alec walks a little in front, taking in the fresh air and occasionally thinking of practical uses for what’s growing around them. The small flowers underfoot, he’s pretty sure, are birdsfoot trefoil, and he knows that Catarina sometimes combines the darker petals of that with powdered adder scales, to make an infusion for patients with particularly stubborn fevers. The treeline nearby is fairly yew-heavy, and Alec’s thoughts drift once again to the fanciful idea of taking up bowyery someday. After so long refining how to use a bow, he guesses it’s pretty natural that he’d catch some sort of interest in how they’re made. He’s heard that old mundane bows were often made of yew wood, so perhaps that’d be a good material to work with; providing he avoided prolonged, long-term exposure, the kind that used to poison traditional woodworkers.

When he isn’t busy daydreaming about craftsmanship that he definitely doesn’t have the time for right now, he listens to what Magnus and Ragnor are discussing as they walk along. Right now, for instance, they’re debating the usefulness of platinum cauldrons – Ragnor claims that they’re a trinket and a fad, whilst Magnus is preaching the merit of their unique and subtle inert energies during the potion-brewing process. Sometimes, when they get like this – bickering over magical theory, neither willing to give an inch – Alec wonders how on earth they ever managed to live together. Maybe he ought to ask Catarina about it sometime.

They eventually turn back towards the house, Magnus linking arms with Alec as they walk. ‘I hope we weren’t boring you,’ he says, more indifferently than Alec suspects he feels. ‘I do worry about leaving you out, sometimes.’ Alec leans a little closer to his husband in reassurance, nudging Magnus’ ribs affectionately with his elbow. ‘Are you kidding?’ he says. ‘You know I find all that magic stuff interesting. Especially when you’re the one talking about it.’ He grins. ‘Though, I gotta say, I think Ragnor has a point about moose antlers being more potent than reindeer.’

Magnus looks at him in sheer offence, apparently speechless in the face of such betrayal. Ragnor chuckles, clapping Alec on the shoulder. ‘I knew I liked you for a reason, Shadowhunter.’

 ***

In the evening, they take their leave, thanking Ragnor for his hospitality before stepping through their portal. It takes Alec a moment to notice, because the world looks different at night, but they end up in the exact same alleyway they portaled to Ragnor’s from. ‘See?’ Magnus says, as they step out into the streetlight and the last remnants of dusk. Across the water, orange lights flicker from where the coastline curves round, like stars at the horizon. ‘Our train mishap was helpful, as it turns out,’ Magnus continues, linking his arm with the one Alec isn’t currently using to drag their suitcase behind them, the wheels rumbling quietly over the sidewalk. ‘This is far closer to the ferry port than I would have been able to portal us before. We won’t even have to call a cab.’

He’s right; it’s a very manageable walk to the ferry port. The city is quiet at this time – though a New Yorker’s perspective on that is always a little skewed, Alec will admit – but they do pass a couple of dog walkers, among others. And when they run into a third group of young people, laughing raucously and moving in herds, Alec raises an eyebrow. Magnus shrugs. ‘College town,’ he says by way of explanation, gesturing to a building nearby – one that bears the same purple livery as several others they’ve passed tonight. ‘And eighteen’s the drinking age here, so they’re not limited to the secrecy of frat parties.’

They reach the ferry port soon after that, and board quickly. Magnus finds a quiet corner to surreptitiously banish the suitcase, and then they head out to the stern of the top deck. The boat begins to move towards Caen, the water rushing loudly below them, and Magnus’ arm is warm around Alec’s waist as they watch the city lights grow distant across the sea.

He wakes to a heavy weight on his chest, smiling fondly even before he opens his eyes. At home, Magnus might be justified in calling him an octopus; but when they’re sleeping away from the loft, his husband gains a certain charming clinginess of his own.

Alec turns his head to the left, gazing out of the porthole. Neither of them had wanted to be underwater – or in a windowless room that might make them feel as if they were – so they’d paid the extra for a glimpse of the outside world, and at this moment, Alec thinks it might be among the best decisions they've ever made. He breathes slow and steady, a sense of calm washing over him, and watches as the dark orange clouds twisting across the violet sky gradually shift into a brighter hue.

Magnus shifts, his breath tickling Alec’s chest a little as he yawns. ‘Good morning,’ Alec says softly. Magnus rolls off of him, stretching and sighing heavily before curling back in, planting a light, smiling kiss to Alec’s shoulder. ‘Morning.’ Alec turns his head back towards his right, deciding that watching Magnus watch the sunrise makes for a better view than watching it himself. His husband is beautiful in any light, but something about the blue and gold of dawn makes him look soft and ethereal - like a really good dream, but one that Alec’s somehow gotten lucky enough to hold and taste and keep.

‘Hey,’ he says after a few long, quiet moments, drawing Magnus’ eyes back to him. He flicks his own gaze briefly over his shoulder. ‘Nothing against air travel or trains, but I think that this one might be my favorite,’ he says with a small smile. Magnus chuckles, the laughter creasing kindness around his cat eyes as he reaches up, tenderly brushing Alec’s hair away from his face. ‘Mine too,’ he agrees.

 ~oOo~

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XLIV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m posting this cause the other chapter was too short and I felt bad about it lmao so three chapters in a week, lucky you!! -Danny

Words: 3,370

Warnings: None!

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Three: Mel and Matthew.

"Go for him," Her mother told her, "I'll fix the rest, but bring him back!"

Mel obliged without paying attention to Mr. Dursley's screams.

"Harry!" She ran down the street, chasing the figure ahead of her. "Stop! You can stay with us while–!"

"I won't go back to them!"

She came into a halt, panting.

"You're leaving for real?"

It was Harry's time to stop and turn to look at her. His eyes drifted to some point in the distance and he sat right there, in the middle of Magnolia St. He was breathing heavily, still pretty mad, and she approached with caution.

"You promised-"

"I know," He snapped.

"It doesn't look like it," She frowned.

Mel sat next to him, knowing it would be better to wait until Harry calmed down. It was getting late, and soon enough the street would be freezing cold and abandoned, she had to take him home. She watched him quietly as Harry's face changed from anger to worry until his features settled on the worst: Determination.

He was looking at his wand, his free hand slowly moving towards his trunk.

"I know what you're thinking," Mel said. "It's not a good idea."

"You don't know what I'm thinking," He replied defensively, though he'd blushed, "it's the only option I have-"

"That's not true!" She replied in exasperation, "Running away? My house is right there! My mum and I could keep you safe!"

She reached for the hand that was holding the wand and held it tightly, pleading that he'd listen to her, trying to ignore the shivers that ran up her spine by their contact.

"Please," Mel insisted, "come back..."

"I want to stay... but..."

He was really close to her face –Or was it her the one getting closer? She couldn't tell, she'd even forgotten what she wanted to say. His eyes were so close, Mel liked his eyes, they were green, not boring brown like hers; Harry was so pretty, so... him.

A noise similar to branches being stepped on distracted her from her daydream, Harry must have heard it too, since he'd stiffened in his place.

The noise came back, louder this time. Both kids stood up and look at the same narrow and dark corner, Harry had his wand ready.

"Lumos! " He whispered.

Mel gasped, taken aback by the sudden sight of a large, black dog standing there just... staring.

Harry stepped back in surprise, tripping on his trunk and falling backward, his wand flew out of his hand. It all happened too fast, one moment she was looking at the dog and the other a loud explosion made close her eyes as she tried to cover her body from... whatever that was.

When she looked up, she found herself standing a few feet away from a large, purple bus. A boy, a few years older than them, walked out of it and started speaking in a monotone voice.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve —"

He stopped, his eyes fixed on Harry's figure still on the ground.

"What were you doin' down there?" He asked.

"Fell over," said Harry.

" 'Choo fall over for?" Stan frowned.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry said defensively.

Mel got closer and helped him stand up, noticing the scratches on his hand and knee. As soon as he was back up, Harry turned to look at the corner where the dog had been, but there was nothing.

" 'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.

"There was a big black thing," said Harry frowning. "Like a dog... but massive..."

"Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.

Mel realized he'd been staring at Harry's scar, much like every other person ever.

"Nothing," Harry moved his hair so it'd fall further down his forehead, it wasn't really discrete, but Stan seemed dumb enough to not notice.

"Woss your name?" The boy insisted.

"Neville Longbottom," said Harry. "So — so this bus- did you say it goes anywhere?"

"Yep," He said proudly, "anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. 'Ere, you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"

"What?" Mel's eyes widened.

"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

"Hold on a moment," She spoke, dragging Harry to the side, "let me try to talk some sense into my friend here..."

Stan didn't look happy about it, but he didn't argue.

"Are-you-out-of-your-mind?!" She whispered angrily, "London?!"

"I can go to Diagon Alley and get money," Harry explained quickly, "then I'll leave-"

"Don't be stupid!" She exclaimed. "Go where?! You're a child, Glasses!"

"Anywhere's better than here," The boy said stubbornly, opening his trunk and grabbing his money, shoving a few coins in Stan's hand. "Listen, tell Emily not to worry. I'll stay in the leaky cauldron tonight and then... then I'll see."

"You're so bloody dumb," Mel said in exasperation, running both hands through her hair, "you know I can't let you go!"

"Out of us, I've nothing to lose now- I can do magic, you can't" He raised a brow. "You can't stop me."

"I..." Harry and Stan took his trunk inside the bus without waiting for her response, "Ugh! You're not even listening!"

"I won't let them take my wand," Harry argued, "and I don't see the point in waiting to get expelled."

Mel was so upset that she was speechless, she couldn't believe Harry was escaping.

"Well," She breathed, "well- I see... you're not staying and now you're threatening to use magic against me. Alright, go to the leaky cauldron you thoughtless worm– Ruin your life, I don't care!"

"Fine!" Harry said roughly. "Good luck in Hogwarts!"

"Sodd off!" She yelled back, turning away from the bus.

"Harry what?!"

"Left..." Mel repeated slowly and in a terrible mood, "on a massive, purple bus."

"The Knight bus," Her mother put a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes tightly. "Oh, Harry..."

"I told him not to go," Mel was sitting still, her arms crossed and brows knitted together. "Did he care? No! He insisted that he had to run for it- that idiot... Now what?"

"Wait here," Her mother replied, leaving their home and walking up to the house next door.

When Mel'd gone back to their house she'd seen two people that looked a lot like the wizard-kind entering the Dursleys' front door. Soon enough the yelling stopped, they were fixing Aunt Marge's memory for all she knew.

Her mother came back a minutes later, the color returning to her face.

"I told them to look in the leaky cauldron, and the bus can be trusted," She sat next to her daughter, "he'll get there in a few minutes... He's safe, don't worry."

"I'm not worried," Mel scoffed, "in fact, I hope they punish him for being so stupidly impulsive. Leaving just like that, without a care about us? What a twat!"

"You don't really mean that, Mel..."

"I don't," She grabbed a cushion from beside her and hid her face under it, "Why is he such a headache?"

"See the positive side!" Her mother placed the cushion away from her face. "He won't get expelled!"

Mel peered one eye open.

"How do you know that?"

"I..." The woman hesitated. "Let's just say that some recent events had caught the Minister's attention. I'm certain they'll move the rules around so Harry can stay in school- it's safer."

"You know, everyone complains about me not knowing how to handle my emotions, but that boy is exactly like me, if not worse," Mel continued her rambling. "but that's alright, it's not my problem, I know. Bad for him I suppose, but I'm fine. You're right, I need a break from his annoying face."

She wasn't expecting to hear her mother's laughter, but she sat there, watching as her mum cackled.

"Oh, Mel- I'm so... sorry- I'm not laughing at you..." Her mother said, struggling to breathe, "you sound so much like your father! Poor Matt, always rambling about how our friends kept doing all kinds of stupid things, always threatening to end the friendship because they drove him crazy... you want to know the truth, Love?"

"Yes?" Mel inquired.

"He cared too much about them," The woman smiled. "It drove him mad whenever they risked their stay at Hogwarts. He loved them deeply... you say many unflattering things about Harry right now but I knew your father long enough to see right through it, and all I see is how much you care, and how angry you are because he rejected your help."

There was something about listening to her mother talk about her and her dad like they were the same person that eased her. Even after two years, Mel still wondered if she really was even remotely similar to her father, even if it embarrassed her to know her mother knew how she really felt about Harry, it calmed her spirit.

"I tried," Mel sank in her seat, pouting. "Harry refused, it didn't matter how much I insisted..."

"I believe now you'll be happy to spend the next week in the countryside," Her mother smiled knowingly. "To clear your head?"

"I do love my uncle's house," Mel admitted.

"Okay," Her mother stood up, "nothing left to say. I trust that Harry will be found tonight, they'll bring him back by tomorrow, you'll see..."

She received a letter from Harry the next day, he was going to stay at the Leaky cauldron for the rest of the summer, which was only three more weeks. He also apologized for the way he acted the night before, and let her know that there was no risk of getting expelled and that the Minister himself had received him.

"I don't understand," Mel said to her mother as both of them got in the car, "why would the Minister do that?"

"Times are difficult. Perhaps it was a coincidence," The woman shrugged.

"Remind me to write back once we're with uncle Lu. I guess he's expecting a reply..."

Emily smirked.

"Are you still mad at him?"

"Not as much," She shrugged, "but I'm not going to forgive him that easily. He was rude and senseless. I guess he understood that what he did was wrong, but I want him to know that he can't treat me like that whenever he pleases."

"I think he knows that already," Her mother chuckled.

Two days later and half-way through helping her uncle packing up his things, Mel was starting to feel emotional. Ever since she was a baby that house had represented a big part of her life, all the Christmas dinners were done there, the winters were beautiful, the trees were high and easy to climb... She'd spend her afternoons there, listening to the branches moving together, the birds...

The girl was currently hiding up in her favorite tree, near her uncle's house. She'd brought a notebook and a pen with her, taking her time to write a letter when a voice called her back for dinner.

She jumped to the ground falling a bit harshly, her uncle winced.

"Your poor knees, Mel..."

"They're fine," She brushed off the dirt of her jeans, "What's for dinner?"

"Food," He said with a smile, "come to wash your hands."

She followed him back to the house, her mother was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Mum?"

"She's getting more boxes and tape," He replied, "won't take long."

She saw this as an opportunity to talk freely with her uncle.

"I need to talk," She said simply, in a very formal tone.

"By all means, take a seat," Her uncle replied amused by her sudden change of demeanor.

"It's about some... thing. It's been bothering me since my first year at Hogwarts and I'm afraid to tell my mum cause I... I don't want to upset her."

The man raised his eyebrows with a newfound interest, encouraging her to keep going.

"I have this friend..." She started, "and he's nice... He's also older than me... and he's– His name's Erick, and..."

Her uncle cleared his throat, "Are you... crushing? On this boy?"

Mel dropped the notebook she was holding, "No! That's not what I– No! That's not the reason why– He's a Slytherin!"

"Oh!" Her uncle sighed. "I see... You believe your mother will be angry at you for being friends with him?"

"They're not exactly popular, the Slytherins... I know that you and my mum were in Gryffindor, and my friends don't like Slytherins either, especially after what happened last year... but he's different."

She told him how Erick reached out to her in order to learn about muggles because he was to be interested in a girl, how much he'd helped her last year (she even dared to tell him about the Polyjuice potion) and that now she considered him a good friend, and how guilty she felt for many reasons.

"I shouldn't feel bad about this," She concluded. At that point, the food was already cold, but none of them cared. "I don't like hiding things, I wish I could just tell them, and my mum..."

"Your mother won't react badly," He shook his head, "she knows a thing or two about befriending outcasts... she even married one!"

"My dad?" Mel frowned. "An outcast? When people talk about him they always sound so... fond of him, they admire him!"

"That was after he graduated," Her uncle raised a brow. "Before? He wasn't popular, people would take a look at him and think he was either stupid or incredibly smart, and none of those things helped him with the rest of the students. He was lucky to meet us. I guess that, in a way, we were all outcasts, and we were all lucky."

"So..." Mel tilted her head, "I'm doing the right thing?"

"Making friends is not a mistake, Mel. Judging only what's outside for everyone to see? That's what's wrong."

"I see," She lowered her head, still thinking. "You think I should tell my friends?"

"Maybe, but prepare the room first. Shock can bring out the worst in some people... and ask Erick if he wants to be seen, if not, then you're not hiding anything, you're respecting your friend's decision."

"I see," She repeated, "thank you."

"It's the least I can do," He smiled, "you've grown. I still remember the lousy toddler running around my garden and now you're sitting here, almost as tall as your mother... You make us proud, Little Em."

Mel smiled. She stood up and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," She mumbled, "I needed to hear that..."

"Is she asleep?"

"I don't know how she manages to have all that energy bottled up inside her," Emily groaned, rubbing her own back. "My shoulders are killing me! And that little girl has been climbing up trees for two days in a row and still runs around the house, packing things and making a fuss..."

"She's not that little now," The man reminded her, "thirteen is a big number, soon she'll be the same height as you-"

"Don't get me started," Emily warned. "I never got to be taller than my mother!"

"The Dumbledores have always been tall," He chuckled. "Remember fifth-year when Matt was taller than all of us? James couldn't handle it. He kept teasing him for ages, but we all knew he was just jealous."

"They refused to speak to each other for a week because Lily complimented Matt's coat!" Emily laughed. "James was so insulted! He was sure Matt was trying to win her over..."

"James was so blinded by his own feelings that he couldn't see Matt was terribly in love with you..."

"I can't comment on that, I didn't realize either."

"Yeah, well," He smirked, "you had your own little crush going on."

"Love," Emily rolled her eyes, then sat on the couch and sighed, "it really shouldn't be a thing when you're young and stupid."

"I think you're wrong."

"Well, of course," She laughed, "you didn't have a crush then, and if you did you hid it well- We never got to tease you!"

"Maybe it was the only thing I knew how to hide," He smiled absentmindedly, "did Mel tell you about her friend?"

A small smile appeared on the woman's lips.

"Erick Flint. Never heard that lastname so I'm hoping his family's not so bad. But judging by the things she's told me, they probably are..."

"Looks like you did a good job, she doesn't judge by looks, doesn't feel superior to others... Who knows? That friendship could save that boy's life."

"Yes," Emily sighed, "I know..."

"Is it a bad time to tell you I need to pee?"

"Peter, please tell me you're joking," Emily groaned.

"Yes, it's late. You should've said something before."

"I didn't want to go earlier!"

"James, do me a favor and step on Pete's toes if you can..." Sirius whispered.

"Gladly..."

"Ouch! That was my foot, idiot!"

"Sorry, Mily!"

"Don't call me Mily!"

"Shut up! I heard something..." Matthew stopped, causing the whole group to stay still under the cloak, listening carefully to the sounds around them.

"What?" James asked, "What're you hearing?"

"Steps..."

"Are you sure they're not ours?" Emily grinned.

"Don't be silly..."

Then they heard them again, moving across the hall in front of them along with hurried whispers. McGonagall's figure next to Pomfrey, who was holding a student that both women seemed to be taking outside. The kids moved slowly, trying to distinguish the face of the young kid.

"It's getting late," The teacher said worryingly, "it's about to happen, Poppy. We need to get him out..."

The women rushed out the door, not giving them time to watch.

"Well," Matt sighed, "that was close..."

"Get him out?" James inquired. "Why would they need to get a student out in the middle of the night? You think that maybe..?"

He didn't finish his sentence, instead, he dragged the whole group to the main entrance without giving them time to react. They complained and huffed, but none of them tried to stop him. It was James, after all. When they arrived at the front door, the silhouettes were clearer, finally illuminated by the moonlight. Only then they managed to recognize the student.

"Remus!" Matthew said, eyes widening.

"Shut up! They'll hear us!" Sirius hissed, pinching his friend's arm.

"I knew it!" Emily exclaimed in a low whisper, "I told you there was something strange about Remus! He disappears too often, that's not normal..."

"But what is it?" Peter asked anxiously.

"Why don't we find out?" Matt replied. It was now his turn to drag the kids outside.

"What're they doing?" James squinted.

"They're taking him further away... to the trees..." Sirius tilted his head.

"We can't follow them!" Emily grabbed James and Matt's arms.

"Is the great Emily Sultens afraid?" James teased.

"No," She frowned. "But I have the feeling that if we keep going nothing good will happen. You know what they say, 'When bad feelings arrive, fly your broomstick and hide your cat'..."

"That's not a real thing," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You're not sure," She insisted, pulling them back, "can we please go back?"

"I still think you're a pansy- Ouch!" James hissed, Emily had elbowed his ribs.

"Let's go," She demanded.

"Okay," Matt agreed, trying to avoid getting punched, "but we'll have to confront Remus about this."

"Agree," Sirius nodded.

"Fine."

"Sure..."

"Can we go to the boy's toilets now?"

"Emily?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you'd like some tea," The man raised a brow, "but I think it'd be better if you go directly to bed."

"I think so," She smiled tiredly, "sorry, got caught up with some memories. Nothing important. I'll see you in the morning..."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018​ @vampiregirl1797​ @siriuslysirius1107​ @celestialhayi​ @mikariell95​ @omiwashere​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @steve-thotgers​ @tomshollandz​ @reverse-hxlland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ 

[typewritingyip]

A Life Worth Waiting For

Into and Out of the Wardrobe

A/N: This is my first ever Narnia fic, so thank you to @edmundrex​ for posting the #CairParavelNet June Event! (Technically it’s called into the wardrobe but I couldn’t just pick one part)

Warnings: Minor Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 8,063

The platform was crowded with weepy mothers, nervous children, and a great deal of luggage. Mothers arms wrapped around my body, as tiny as I was it felt like being wrapped in a blanket. It wasn’t cold on the platform but I was shaky from the nerves. The ringing made it to where I couldn’t even hear what she was saying to me, her words were silent even as she attached the travel tag to my sweater.

“Alright dear, don’t take this tag off until you get to your platform. They’ll pick you up there and take you to where you’ll be safe.”  

Her hand brushes over my hair, finally looking up at her through slightly swollen eyes my lip quivers as I try not to cry,  

“Mama I don’t want to leave... I- I don’t want you to be alone...”

Her smile was warm as a summer day, one from before the war when we’d spend days in the park. She lightly brushes her thumbs over my cheeks, wiping the tears there away;  

“Darling, I’m never alone. Papa may be gone but I have grandmother with me.”  

Sniffling I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater. She gently turns me around and nudges me towards the train, getting caught between several people while I struggle with my suitcase. One of the ticket readers grabs the tag and pulls the ticket from it while some older kid grabs my arm, pulling me along. My eyes widen from the sudden grip, following this tall boy onto the train. The door closed behind us and my heart sunk, turning to it I tried to see out the window to see my mother as my eyes fill with tears again.  

Before being able to see out the window the trains horn blows and it starts to move and yet again, I’m grabbed by the boy while a conductor checks our tags and heads for a compartment with two children already in it. It was only then that the boy realized I wasn’t his little sister,  

“Who are you?”

Sniffling I move to sit down, hugging my suit case tightly,

“Maude, Maude Crownly.”  

The conductor nods and helps with the luggage before moving on, leaving all of us in awkward silence. I kept my head down, pulling a few sheets of paper from my pocket and a rather mangled pencil to draw on as the train picks up speed,

“Well, I’m Peter. Peter Pevensie... Sorry if I scared you.”

I glance up at him and smile, missing a tooth in the front of my mouth,

“You didn’t scare me that bad,”

He smiled and sat back, looking at his other siblings before looking down. With that the compartment went silent as it traveled for the country side.  

Four hours after the other two children got off the train, the five of us waited in silence for us to arrive at the platform at Coombe Halt, or temporary new home. Curling up in the seat to face the window to see out into the new adventure I’d face, smiling softly as I sketched childish designs onto the paper. Feeling for the first time like one of those heroes in the adventure books father used to read to me once he came home from work. Looking down at the paper I fold it up and return it and the pencil to my pocket, wanting nothing more than to be home or at the very least father to be okay.  

The train would stop and each of us in turn would sit up to check to see if it was our stop, but then it would roll along without a conductor coming to retrieve us. None of us knew just how big England could be or how green anything outside London looked.

It was late in the day when it finally stopped again and out compartment door slid open, I jerked awake from the sound, thinking of the worst things possible before realizing where I was. Peter and his siblings were kind enough to help me from the train with them. It wasn’t a station, hardly more than a platform claiming to be a place that actually existed. Slowing down, they all looked back at the train as it rolled away. Setting down my suitcase was kind of a grunt, I sit on it and look at them,

“Do you know who you’re all staying with?”  

Peter nodded and double checked his tag, frowning as he looked around,  

“Yes, it’s a Professor Kirke... He knew we’d be coming.”  

Nodding, I smile and turn to look towards the road, hoping that they’d arrive soon. Though it was another hour before the horsed wagon appeared from over the nearby hill.

That night I had gotten terrible sleep, sharing a bed with strangers and other children for the first time in my life. Though Lucy and I were becoming fast friends, it wasn’t every day during a war you met someone the same age as you with schools being called off every few weeks for safety. A storm rolled in during the night and kept me awake, too scared to close my eyes.  

When the next day came and we were all stuck inside, it was barley noon when I started to die from boredom. I wanted to explore the amazing house we were all staying in, to read the books with familiar titles like the ones my father would have in his study. The entire house felt like a smaller version of my father's work at the university. It was amazing to feel so lost yet so found in an instant.  

“Peter, can we play hide and seek, please?”

Lucy was pouting and Peter looked mildly exasperated, giving Susan a look,  

“But we’re already having so much fun.”

Susan glares and snaps the book closed, then Peter started to count. Much to the distaste of Edmund. Smiling broadly, I run off, mostly to explore then to actually hide. It was all like the adventure books, just in a giant house rather than in a tumbling forest or open plain field.  

I could hear the Professors radio playing from his office, with the old Orquestra music quietly through the walls and pipes. Running up a set of stairs felt amazing, feeling for the first time in months much like the child I’d been before the war. Trying to duck into something I was rudely shoved out of the way by Edmund, Lucy had been right on his tail,

“I was here first!”

Scoffing, I hurry up another staircase with Lucy passing me, checking from rooms to hide in. Entering one I follow, hoping for a good hiding place only to find her removing a sheet from something massive. Gawking at it I look at her then to the massive wardrobe, we both could still hear Peter counting.  

“This is so cool...”

I brush my fingers over the wood and jump when Lucy opened the door, feeling like a breeze of icy air blew in our faces. I head in first with Lucy following, her backing up to close the door but I faced ahead seeing the strangest thing in the world. Hurrying ahead, tripping on tree branches I fall into the snow and look around in amazement.  

It was a snowy wonderland, something of a great imagination with a lamppost standing in the middle. Not something I’d ever been able to think up on my own. Looking up and back, I could see the light into the Spare Room shining just slightly through the crack of the wardrobe door. Looking at Lucy with a giant grin I stand to follow her, then get absolutely terrified by the creature before us. All three screams ring through the air.  

Lucy and I hide behind the lamppost, trying to look around either side to get a good look at the man standing there. Though it wasn’t quite a man, it was rather strange for his pants were fur but his shoes appeared to be hooves. I look to Lucy and whisper,

“It’s a fawn...”

Slowing walk out from behind the post and moves to pick up the packages, slowing looking him up and down before speaking,

“Were you hiding from me?”

I smiled and moved to help while they talked, looking around in amazement at the snowy surrounding. When it snowed in London it never stayed this white for long, whether the street or the area it would either turn grey or brown, but this was the softest of white powder snow.

“Everything from-from the lamppost, all the way to castle Cair Paravel on the eastern ocean. Every stick and stone you see, every icicle is Narnia.”  

I turn and look around, then look to Lucy,

“It’s an awfully big wardrobe.”

He seemed confused by then then chuckles slightly before speaking up,

“I-I’m sorry, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tumnus.”

Standing up straight I take Lucy’s hand, smiling at him, letting her speak since she found Narnia first,

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Tumnus! I’m Lucy Pevensie,”

“And I’m Maude Crownly, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

We both stuck out our hands and I pulled my back awkwardly, looking down, usually a rather shy person. He had no clue what to do with her hand, so she showed him how to shake it, though both is us realized we didn’t know why people shook hands.  

“Well then, Lucy Pevensie and Maude Crownly from the shining city of Wardrobe in the wondrous land of Spare ‘Oom. How would it be if you both came and had tea with me?”

My heart swelled and sank, looking back towards where the wardrobe was, he opened his umbrella to prevent any more snow falling onto his head and into the curls of his hair,

“Well thank you very much but I, we probably should be getting back.”

“Yes, but it’s only just around the corner.”  

He made the both of us kind of jump before continuing,

“And there will be a glorious fire with toast and tea and cakes. And, perhaps, we’ll even break into the sardines.”

Lucy glances my way before looking back at Mr. Tumnus,

“I don’t know.”

He shifted his wait and got a slightly sad look on his face,

“Come on. It’s not every day I get to make new friends.”  

She looked at me and I bite the corner of my lip before speaking up,

“I suppose we could come for a little while. If you have sardines...”

The last sentence was slightly sarcastic and Lucy giggled, the fact that sardines were a common thing to have with tea in Narnia was greatly odd.  

“By the bucket load,”

He held up his umbrella for the three of us to fit under before hurrying off towards his place.  

We had spent the day with Mr. Tumnus, enjoying the tea he offered, till it put both of us to sleep along with the enchanted lullaby. It hurt being betrayed by our new found friend, it was jarring. We only then found out about the witch and why the winter was so terrible. Feeling the fear of a witch for the first time, where its real and not just in a book of fairy tales. It was late when we returned to the wardrobe, we stopped outside it and turned to him,

“Will you be alright?”

He laughed nervously then started to cry, clearly scared of what would happen to him. Lucy scrambled and pulled her handkerchief from her pocket, passing it to him so he could dry his eyes,

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry... Here.”

He tries to give back the handkerchief,

“No, keep it. You need it more than I do.”  

“No matter what happens, I am glad to have met you both. You’ve made me feel warmer than I’ve felt in one hundred years. Now go, go.”

He touches out noses gently but spoke firmly. We glance at each other then back at him before hurrying past the lamppost, heading back into the wardrobe. Lucy fell out and continued through the house at a run to find everyone else. I stood there and backed up to stare at the wardrobe, already wishing to be back in Narnia. I could still hear Peter counting till Lucy yelled, frowning I look around then out the window. Struggling for a second, I pull out my father's old pocket watch and found it to just start ticking again, as if nothing had changed and no time had ever passed.  

Over the next several days, the others pretended like Lucy and I were mad, like Narnia wasn’t real even when we saw it with our very own eyes.  

It was a warm day and the great outdoors supposedly called us to go out and play cricket. I sat in the shade of a large oak tree with Lucy, drawing Mr. Tumnus likeness into the dirt with a stick. Suddenly I hear a loud crash and we all look up, staring at the house before hurrying inside. Within the professor's study Edmund had broken a window and knocked down a suit of armor.

“Well done Ed,”

Peter was clearly stressed about the situation at hand,

“You balled it!”

They nearly started to argue when we all heard Mrs. McCreedy start to storm up the stairs. Looking at all of them I quickly grab hold of Peter’s hand to keep up with them, running to find a place to hide from her. Upstairs, through rooms, down halls, all over the house, trying to find the right place to hide.  

Edmund led us into the spare room and opened the wardrobe,

“Come on!”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

But we could hear the house keeper just outside, still looking for us, so into the wardrobe we ran. I followed close behind Edmund, knowing we’d come out the other side. Everyone shuffles through the coats and deeper in, complaining about the tight space of it all. Till we hit the cold air and fell into the snow. I looked up and around, smiling then turned to Peter and Susan.

We got to see their reaction of Narnia for the first time.

“This is impossible.”

I grinned at her reaction and fell back into the snow; it was freezing but it was amazing.  

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just your imagination.”

“I don’t suppose saying were sorry will quiet cover it.”

“No, it wouldn’t... But that might!”

Lucy throws a snowball at Peter and I quickly join in, laughing as we pelt each other with snow. Laughing at each other it just made us all colder, but it was fun, more fun than any of us had in possibly years. Peter hits Edmund in the arm which nearly causes an argument. Looking around with a big smile on my face I walk over when Peter starts to hand out coats, practically bouncing with excitement for the thought of going on an adventure.  

Even when we were chased by the agents of the witch, dragged down tunnels while avoiding wolves and thinking we were caught by the witch it was jarring but it’s the type of books my father would read. We stayed huddled in a small snow cave Peter having hands over both mine and Lucy’s mouths, petrified of being caught. Then we do scream when Mr. Beaver ducks back down.

“Come on, come on! I hope you’ve all been good, because there's someone here to see you!”

My heart was racing and I crawl out first, wanting to see who was there if it made Mr. Beaver excited. Before us stood a man with a red coat, his hair was as white as the snow and several reindeer pulled his magical sleigh.

“Merry Christmas sir.”

“It certainly is Lucy, since you have arrived.”

Lucy walks towards him with a big smile and I followed, tugging my fur coat closer around me.  

“We thought you were the witch...”

I fidgeted with the sleeves of my coat, embarrassed.  

“Yes, well. In my defense Maude, I’ve been driving one of these longer than the witch.”

Stepping forward, Susan spoke up,

“I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia.”  

“No, not for a long time, but the hope you have brought your majesties, is finally starting to weaken the witches' power. Still I dare say you could do with these.” 

He turns with a laugh and pull the large bag from the back of his sleigh, starting to open it and push aside toys of all kinds.  

“Presents!”

Lucy rushes forward to look inside, excited by the thought of something new. One by one we are all given weapons to use in our battle. Healing juice and a dagger for Lucy, a bow plus a horn to call for help for Susan, a sword and shield for Peter that was beautifully engraved, and a seemingly bottomless bag along with my own smaller sword for myself.  

Father Christmas gave us the strength and hope to continue on, the tools we would need and a boost to our bravery. Putting my father's pocket watch into the bag, I look around at everyone getting comfortable carrying their new weapons before we continue toward the stone table.  

When the ground turned from white to green, we all left our coats hanging on tree branches, I tied my sweater around my waist and ran ahead with Lucy. Both of us giggling and feeling so free. The air was turning warm, filling with voices, more voices then either of us had heard since leaving London.  

Coming up to the camp grounds full of Narnian soldiers we slow and fall back to stand with Susan and Peter, staring at the larger creatures in mild fright. A horn gets blown from the hill, causing me to jump slightly and look around. Quickly getting lost in the surroundings of it all, it felt like a dream, more than any dream I’d actually had.  

The further we walked into the camp, the more I felt at home in Narnia, in those moments I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Coming up to one of the largest tents around, several people had come to follow us in and Peter slows to a stop before pulling his sword lamely,

“We have come to see Aslan,”

He spoke awkwardly and looked around to check her was doing the right thing. Behind us the army took a knee and bowed their heads, my heart started to race and I looked to Peter to see what to do. He lowered his sword and faced the tent, so we all remained standing as Aslan, the great lion came out of his tent then and only then did we go to our knees and bow.

He was the most incredible creature I’d ever seen.  

“Welcome Peter, son of Adam. Welcome Susan, Lucy and Maude, daughters of Eve. And welcome to you Beavers, you have my thanks, but where it the fifth?” 

We then stood and Peter cleared his throat slightly,

“It’s why we're here sir. We need your help.”

I shift awkwardly and glance at Susan,

“We had a little trouble along the way.”

“Our brother has been captured by the white witch.”

Aslan nods his head slightly,

“Captured? How could this happen?”

Mr. Beaver steps forward, folding his paws,

“He betrayed them, your majesty.”  

The army behind us quickly gets into an uproar, turning I look over my shoulder at them all, feeling worried they wouldn’t trust us or help Edmund. Peter looks around before standing up straighter,

“It’s my fault really. I was too hard on him.”

I take Lucy’s hand as we move to stand around Peter,

“We all were... But sir, he’s out family.”

I finally spoke up for the first time and none of them disagreed with me,

“I know young one, but that only makes the betrayal worse. This may be harder than you think.”  

Aslan nodded towards Peter and they walked off together before several women, including Mrs. Beaver escorted Susan, Lucy and I to get changed into clothes better suited for Narnia. Along with getting washed up.  

They were gentle and showed their care before letting the three of us have our space to clean up, giggling like mad women. That was until the wolves came, chasing us into a tree. It felt like for a few minutes the war was miles away, either war was miles away and yet here it was trying to eat us alive. The wolf tried to kill Peter but he got the better of him, which amazed all but Aslan. He knew Peter could do it before we did.  

As the sun began to set, we all were settling in at camp the best we could, waiting for news on Edmund. We all cared and even thought I had little chance to get to know him, there was a connection to this family of strangers and I was coming to really care for them. When he did come back, the past was in the past, in more ways than one and we all showed him we cared for him.

Once we were all fed and rested, training began and even though it was deadly serious I don’t think I have ever had more fun in my life. It was truly a change in fate. Narnia was better than any dream and it’s real. The war was soon though and tensions were high, higher so when the White Witch came for Edmund’s blood. We knew the battle would be soon and that was when I started to get genuinely scared.  

Our tents were quiet that night, the anticipation for tomorrow was building and I was completely unable to sleep. Much like the night I’d left London or the night my father died. Gently opening the bad, I push around the spare supplies inside and pull out the pocket watch, it was quietly ticking away. I could hear the swish of fabric from outside and sit up at the same time as Lucy. She gets up and quickly wakes us Susan. I get up and gather my stuff, pulling on a cloak and following the girls out.

The three of us followed Aslan quietly, sneaking behind him. It was another odd circumstance, being out in the middle of the night felt so normal here but in London it would have been just dangerous. We followed several feet behind and hid behind trees while trying to remain unseen. Aslan stalled and glances back,

“Shouldn’t you three be in bed.”

We kind of looked at each other before stepping forward and closer to him, I messed with the edge of my cloak,

“We couldn’t sleep.”

“Please Aslan, couldn’t we come with you?”

Susan kept her voice down and we all walked up to stand around him,

“I would be glad of the company, for a little while.”

We stood with him, I brushed a hand over his mane, incredible worried about him and why we were out in the night,

“Thank you.”

His voice was rough and he sounded far older than any of could have guessed or even preserved. I wrap my fingers through his fur, holding onto him while we walked.  

The four of us walked for several miles in silence, just listening to the sounds of the night, Narnia was very different then England and the night air smelled of flowers.

“It is time. From here, I must go alone.”

“But Aslan-”

“You have to trust me. For this must be done. Thank you, Susan. Thank you, Lucy. Thank you, Maude. And farewell.”

He turned away from us and continued walking, I looked to Susan and Lucy wanting to know what they planned to do before I followed Aslan myself. He was out friend and wherever he was going, he shouldn’t be alone. Susan rested a hand on Lucy’s shoulder before nodding and hurrying a different direction. Biting my lip, I hurried to follow them, resting a hand on the hilt of my sword so it wouldn’t swing all over the place.  

We came up and crouched behind a fallen tree, to see torches and part of the witch's army surrounding some stone structure. We looked at each other but stayed put, too shocked by the scene to do much of anything. I covered my mouth when they knocked him down, starting to tie him up. This is what the witch was capable of and it was terrifying.  

“Why doesn’t he fight back?”

I looked at Susan then to Lucy, thinking about something I’d been told by my father, ‘A real leader, when he sees mistakes being made will talk to the mistake maker, not punish them but lift them up so they learn.’ I looked back towards where bound him.

It went silent for a moment before they started to band their weapons on the ground, I was shaking from both fear and anger. They were going to hurt him and there was nothing we could do.  

“Tonight, the deep magic will be appeased! But tomorrow, we will take Narnia forever!”

We couldn’t hear what she said after that, my heart was racing till she shouted again,

“Die!”

It was like my whole world stopped, like all of Narnia held its breath as the great lion died. Tears fell down my face and I kept my hand over my mouth, preventing my own screams. Turning slightly, we all fell and held onto one another desperately. Sobbing into our fallen embrace.  

We held onto each other until the witch and her troops were gone, then we made our way to Aslan, resting as if asleep on the stone table. We sat with him, wanting nothing more for him to wake up when we drifted to sleep on him, protecting his remains.

I woke up when the sun began to rise, brushing my fingers over Aslan with his shaved fur. It brought more tears to my eyes, though I hadn’t known Aslan long he had become a dear friend. Susan sits up and looks around, rubbing her eyes before gently shaking awake Lucy.

“We should go.”

She stepped down from the stone table and went to help Lucy, I jumped down with them shivering from the breeze.

“It’s so cold.”

Lucy and I spoke nearly at the same time, I wrapped my cloak around myself, trying to feel the warmth of spring that had just existed yesterday.  Walking down the steps and away from this place, we all glances back before continuing forward. Then the ground shook and cracked, I fell to my knees.  

“Susan!”

I turned to Lucy and followed where she looked before standing, gawking at the broken and empty stone table.  

“Where’s Aslan?”

“What have they done?”

I brushed my fingers along the broken edge of the table, my heart aching before the sun shined in my eyes, blinking I looked toward it and my breath was taken away.  

“Aslan!”

We all ran towards him, the past hours of heart ache washing away, the warmth of spring returning, the fear of a life without Aslan vanishing. I held onto his fur, listening to him but just so thankful he was alive.  

“Climb on my back, we have far to go and little time to get there. You all may want to cover your ears.”

Lucy and I grinned at each other before climbing on behind Susan, then I covered my ears as Aslan roared his mighty roar. While a battle waged in a far-off field, we saved those who'd been turned to stone by the witch. Even helping in the battle, with Aslan on our side it was like they surrendered. Though our hearts stopped again when Edmund was wounded, my bag of holding had no healing properties but Lucy had that within the bottle at her waist. 

Our family of five saved Narnia that day and our army traveled east, to the shining castle of the five thrones. Cair Paravel on the eastern ocean.  

The halls shine and the thrones glittered, the say we were crowned was one of beauty, all of us dressed in the finest of clothes Narnia could offer. This castle was our home, a place built for us, and we didn’t know for so long. We walked with Aslan up to the thrones the first time, seeing a beautiful future ahead of us. Peter went to the middle throne, with Susan on his right and Edmund on his left, Lucy was on the other side of Susan and I was on the other side of Edmund.

“To the glittering eastern sea, I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant.”

My heart was racing, it felt so unreal and perfect, Mr. Tumnus rested Lucy’s crown upon her head.  

“To the vast central fields, I give you Queen Maude, the Thoughtful.”

Looking to Lucy, I was smiling before facing front again as Mr. Tumnus brought me my own crown to wear, I smile at him, having gaps in my teeth from where I’d lost them previously.

“To the great western wood, King Edmund, the Just... To the radiant southern sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle... And to the clear northern sky! I give you High King Peter, the magnificent.”

We all took a step back and sat on our thrones, hearts racing and smiles bright.

“Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens.”  

Then the celebration started and Aslan left us, not for forever, but he was no tame lion. There was music and dancing, Edmund and I danced for quite a while, laughing and loving Narnia. The celebrations lasted for several days then came the time to actually rule and learn what that meant, but we were all ready for the challenge.  

Most of that first spring and summer, we didn’t spend within the castle walls or even with each other. Away learning of the places in Narnia we were to all rule over, firstly the ones we were crowned for then to learn of the others to a lesser extent.  

The vast central fields had once been covered in snow, with no one living there and now, farms were returning and people moves back to the homes of their ancestors. I learned how to tend plants and prep ground, spending that first spring and summer barefoot in the fields with Narnians and learning of my place in this world. Just as the others did, Lucy was upon ships learning to sail and fish, Edmund was in the woods learning to hunt and trade, Susan was in the south with larger villages learning the way their traditions held, and Peter spent his time in the north learning the ways of battle, how to be a predator instead of pray.  

We saw each other nearly every week non the less, growing together and learning so much, and when fall came around we all returned to Cair Paravel and if anything, the time apart brought us closer together. The fall was cooler than the spring and people began to get scared, we did a little but we knew the witch was gone and that seasons were a normal and regular thing.  

It was mid fall and I was practicing my sword work with Edmund down in one of the courtyards, Lucy sat on an old stump watching us work when it started to hail. At first none of us noticed it, to focused on our own activities. The ground started to turn white and it began to get cold, I looked to Edmund and my heart began racing. I could see the fear in his eyes, sliding my sword into its sheath before grabbing his hand and then Lucy’s pulling them inside.

“Peter! Susan!”

My call was more of a shriek, both Edmund and Lucy were stiff even as I dragged them further into the castle, trying to remember where the common room was, hoping that there would be a fire in there. I could hear running footsteps but my nerves were already on edge so I shove the other two behind me and draw my sword again, on Peter. He lifted his arms up in the air.

“Easy their soldier, what's the matter?”

Lowering it slowly, my hands were shaking.

“Peter, I... it started snowing.”

His eyes widen and he nodded, taking Lucy’s hand when she hurried to him.

“It’s going to be alright. Just a small storm. It’s winter then spring, it won’t last forever. When Aslan shakes his mane, there will be spring again. Well that already happened so there will be another spring.”

We might be kings and queens, but we were all still children. The winter we’d walked into left each of us scared in more ways than one. Peter led us to the common room and stoked the fire, making it far warmer than it needed to be but we could see the hail through the windows still. I sat on one of the many cushions and stared out the window at the hail before getting back up.  

Lucy and Edmund sat by the fire, both kind of shivering. It was the first time we’d experienced cold since the White Witch was alive, we all assumed it would be bad. Looking at them I follow Peter out of the room, knowing he’d need help, knowing the Narnian’s would react just as badly or worse. Catching up quickly I take his hand and look up at him.

“To the first fall.”

He nods and squeezes my hand gently.

“To the first fall... You doing alright Maude?”

Smiling was a slight struggle, but I shrug.

“I’ll be alright. We have things to take care of anyways.”

He frowned and brushed his hand over my hair.

“You’re just as young as Lucy, yet you act like an adult... You should be in there with them.”

Smiling shyly, I kick at the skirt of my dress.

“I can sit on a throne and pretend to be warm. Back... somewhere I... I used to pretend to be warm.”

He nods slowly and stops me, turning me back around.

“Well go enjoy the warmth and comfort of the common room. Susan and I can handle the politics for a while.”

He took off my crown for a second, ruffling my hair before putting it back on my head. I smiled at him and walked back to the common room, feeling a bit sad by his reaction to me.

Returning to the room it was a livelier then when I left it, Mr. Tumnus taking up residents inside to join the warmth. Music was playing quietly and Lucy was back to her happy self, though Edmund still was staring out the window.

That winter was colder than any day in the last hundred years, blizzards were horrific and the only ones leaving Cair Paravel was Peter and Susan. Most of the that winter the three of us sat on our thrones and dealt with the politics that could come through the snow to the castle. Most nights we slept in the common room, dragging the feather beds from our rooms to sleep near the warmest fire.  

Then we had spring again, when the snow melted away, the Narnians celebrated like we had won the war all over again, naming the celebration after us. A celebration of spring that would happen every year after. Anything before our lives in Narnia faded to void, feeling as if it were nothing more than a dream. My father’s pocket watch remained in the bottom of my bag for years.

When Mr. Tumnus told us of the white stags return to Narnia and what it could it, it wasn’t a question of if we’d go on the hunt, more so when we would go on the hunt. I spent time laughing with Lucy while we packed simple things of food and supplies for the trip. Brushing a hand through my hair I sighed heavily, my thoughts elsewhere for a moment.  

“Maude, are you alright?”

It was Edmund who asked, having come up to put his bag on Phillip. I turned to him, smiling slightly shyly before nodding.

“Yes, quite alright just thinking of what we would wish for is all.”

That wasn’t what I was thinking about of course, but Edmund didn’t need to know what I was thinking.  

“I think we’re all thinking that.”

He grins before being shoved by Peter as he came out to the stables with Susan. I laugh before climbing onto my own horse, Lillian. She was a beauty but no longer was one who liked my risky habits in battle.  

“Are we going to stand around all day or go find this stag?”

With a shout of agreement, the others all climbed onto their horses and ran off ahead of Lillian and me. The wind blew through my hair as the horses' hurries through the woods, my braids catching in my crown.

The five of us were laughing like loons, loving the feeling of late summer early fall. We road for an hour before the white stag was spotted, it kept bouncing in and out of view. I was taking up the back of the line as usual, being the youngest among five royals didn’t often have its perks.  

Lillian slowed and I pulled on the reins to make her stop, seeing her shortness of breath I slid off her back in a fluid motion. Patting her side, I smile brightly.

“Take a rest Lillian, I can run for a while. Catch up when you can.”

She bowed her head gravely.

“Thank you, your highness.”

Nodding firmly, I run ahead to try and catch up with the others. Soon being able to hear their voice I pick up the pace before nearly running smack into Edmund and Phillip.

“Have you all caught the stag without me?”

My smile was one of mischiefs' sarcasm but looking at all their faces it told me something was likely wrong. A lamppost stood in the area all alone.

“Spare ‘Oom.”

Lucy’s voice was quiet but the name rang a bell to me, as if from a dream. Then Lucy took off into the dense forest.

“Oh, not again!”

Peter shouted before the other three followed. Scowling I move to go around the dense trees to catch them all on the other side, starting to grin once I reached the other side. Waiting. I waited for several minutes before heading in and coming out the other side in a different spot then I had thought, looking around quickly I turn to Phillip.

“Did they come out?”

All the horses shook their heads and my heart dropped, I hurry to Phillip and climb onto his back, grabbing the reins and turning him roughly.  

“Back to Cair Paravel, we need to send out a search party. Who knows where they disappeared to in there...”

He took off as fast as he could manage, I clung desperately to the reins, my heart racing. I glance back at the lamppost till it was no longer visible through the trees. The winds whipped through my hair violently, the pit in my stomach became bottomless. Riding through the gates I got off quickly and ran for the doors, lifting my skirts to get there faster. It was already quieter in Cair Paravel, as if somehow the building knew it needed to be in hushed tones.

I found out search party quickly and they searched that area for hours, only coming out when they found four crowns. I stood before them, the only one wearing a crown among a land of thousands, for the first time in my life I didn’t know what to do.

Within the first year of the four royals going missing, Telmarnies declared war on Narnia and her allies. Although I had grown up in Narnia, I grew more in the next five years than I had when the other four remained. Narnia needed their High King, so that was what I became not by title but, someone who tried to rule like Peter had, yet I was not Peter. I went from being Queen Maude, the Thoughtful to Queen Maude, the Fierce.  

I didn’t think the name suited me, but it stuck soon after the first few battles on Narnian soil began. For five years, I ruled and controlled an army, one that was being slaughtered daily and yet would still choose to fight for someone so unskilled. I tried so hard to be the others, to know how the five of us worked together and make that into one person and I thought I succeeded.

We signed a treaty, giving both armies peace for the holiday, trying to negotiate what they wanted with Narnia. Time to recuperate and see what assets we had. I sat in my throne most of that day, trying to figure out what to do. Our armies were hungry and tired, there was no sign of true peace on the horizon and if we surrendered then everything any Narnian stood for would be lost.  

It was late and I brought my things down to the treasury, putting my sword and bag within my chest. Looking around my heart ached at the faces that looked towards mw, if only they knew I was trying my best.

Returning to my room, I fell into a deep sleep.  

Awakened in the middle of the night by the castle shaking, shouts and screams were I the air as Cair Paravel was attacked.  

“Your Highness!”

A fawn girl came running in and grabbed my arms, pulling me from my bed and pushing me towards the door.

“You must hide your highness, run and hide!”

I pull away from her grip and rest my hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“Why? I have a duty to protect Cair Paravel!”

She shook her head and began to push me again.

“They are after your life, they called for you and want your head on a pike!”

I grit my teeth, my anger beginning to boil, I went to reach for where my sword would typically rest at my waist only to remember I had foolishly left it in the treasury.

“They’ve already invaded the lower levels! You must go!”

“I cannot-”

“They don’t want just your head! Their monsters in men's clothing, please your highness, for the future of Narnia you must go.”

Nodding slowly, I head down the stairs, hearing my soldiers fight down in the throne room. I ran into the people I cared for most as they were both trying to fight and flee; Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers wished the same for me as the fawn girl did. Dressed in merely a night gown, taking a small bag of food from Mrs. Beaver, I fled. The head of my guard waited with Astrid, our fasted horse.  

“Go your Majesty. Astrid will bring you someplace safe and hopefully return with you in the morning.”

I nodded and climbed on, giving the familiar centaur a hug.

“Till morning then.”

Gripping the reins Astrid took off through the side gates, running out into the trees. We were barely out of the gate when the Telmarine army was upon us. Arrows were shot at Astrid and I, horrible words shouted, and large dogs barked. I leaned down to give Astrid more speed, trying to avoid the flying arrows. Looking back, I could see Cair Paravel was under siege and many parts ablaze, including the tower I had called home. An arrow lands in my shoulder, making me shout and I fall off Astrid, thankful for the darkness as the Telmarine continue to follow her instead of noticing me.  

Once they were past, I stand and pull the arrow from my shoulder, pressing a hand to it as I cursed all Telmarine especially their King Caspian. Continuing inland, my shoulder bled through the white gown. Pain wracked my body and I longed for my bag of holding, full of bandages along with other medical supplies.  

Silent asking for a sign of a way to fix this I kept walking, coming into a ring of light, then nearly smack into the lamppost.  

Turning quickly to face that patch of woods my heart sank and I looked around.

“Are you telling me to leave? Or will I find the others in there?”

There was nothing but silence. I face those woods and sigh, then turn to try and see Cair Paravel. All I could see through the trees was the light from the fire, my heart sank.

“Spare ‘Oom it is then...”

I turn back to the dense patch of woods and head in. It turned from trees to fur, then I ran into people all complaining before five of us toppled out of the wardrobe.  

Memories quickly flood back, feeling more recent then the last twenty years I had lived in Narnia. Looking around quickly I smiled at Edmund, all of us smiling at each other before the door opened and the Professor walked in.

“What were you all doing in the wardrobe?”

Peter looked around at all of us before looking back to the professor.  

“You wouldn’t believe us if we told you sir.”

He tossed the cricket ball back to Peter, the one that had broken the stained glass all that time ago, smiling and crouching down some.

“Try me.”

Quickly everyone breaks out into the tale of our life in Narnia, I kept my mouth shut only thinking about how Narnia would be taken over if we couldn’t get back soon. Wrapping Edmund in a hug I watch Peter and Lucy explain it all, the fifteen years we had lived there.  

It shocked me to understand they thought I’d followed them into Spare ‘Oom, the five years I had lived without them completely unknown to them. The story lasted well into the night, till we all got tired and were helped to bed.  

I didn’t even lay in bed for more than twenty minutes before I snuck down to the wardrobe with Lucy, trying to get back into Narnia.

“I don’t think you’ll get back in that way.”

I turn quickly with Lucy, facing the Professors who was sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Not a word even had to pass our lips before he answered the silent question.

“Well you see, I’ve already tried.”

“Will we ever go back?”

My voice was quiet and full of pain.  

“Well I expect so, it will probably happen when you’re not looking for it.”

He offers each of us his hands, so we take them and start to head out of the room.

“I’ll say, it’s best to keep your eyes open.”

We left the spare room. The only sounds other than our footsteps was my fathers pocket watching ticking, making noice for the first time in a long time. 

He helped us back to bed, then went to bed himself. Neither of us could sleep, nor could Susan so we went to the boy's room where they had already dragged the mattresses off the beds to the floor, trying to get some rest. The three of us joined the two of them and were able to get some sleep, like the winter nights in the common room when rain would pelt the windows.

We spoke of Narnia often those first few days, going outside and practicing with the professor's swords and armor, much to the distaste of Mrs. McCreedy. Soon enough though the memories of England grew stronger than the ones of Narnia, though none of us forgot. Feeling older than we were but young enough to still play.  

Within months the Pevensies’ went back to London, I stayed with the professor while my mother was away in the war as a nurse, having completed her training soon before my grandmother passed. I studied and learned with the professor, we talked of Narnia often and only he knew that Cair Paravel had fallen.  

The world of Narnia was mysterious and glorious, when they all saw and all believed, when we lived their we brought peace to the land. 

[ajokeformur-ray]

Help me to find where to leave my hurt behind // Rosie x J x Pat

Summary: It seems as though injustice and unfairness surrounds you and it’s all you can do to keep your head above water. So angry are you, so tortured and tried almost to the point of not wanting to go on are you... but don’t you remember that Pat and J have always been there to catch you as you fall? This time is no different, dear heart. You are safe within your love.

A/N: Because @loveletterstoledger​ deserves🙃better🙃. I hope that you enjoy this ksksksk you mean a lot to me and I cherish you immeasurably!💙 I know you’re having a really rough time right now, angel, and I wanted to do something small for you; I hope it comforts you in even the smallest of ways. Keep your loves and your joys close to you, my love, and know you’re not alone!💚

Word count: 3,195 (uh... my hand slipped?😂😅)

Anger.

A secondary emotion which hides pain or fear behind it and is often used as a coping mechanism. Only those whom still care about a situation or a person will be infuriated by the mistreatment, for anger is the part of you which loves you and realises that you deserve better. Even knowing this, oh so aware were you of that which plagued you on the daily, was it difficult for you to cope with the sheer levels of rage which coursed through your young body, leaving you scared even of your own self.

Oh, but you were a livewire, so much so that even J was beginning to wonder if you weren’t a conductor of electricity despite the fact that your body was made up of seventy per cent water; the very air seemed to crackle when you moved. You were alight with energy, your nerves fried, your temper short, your fuse rapidly draining. It was taking everything you had to not let out your anger in the wrong place, on the wrong people, and as days passed with this same pattern did the anger slowly work out its own self. Emotions were visitors who come and go as they pleased, and you could only hope that this feeling would not stay for long. You hated what it was doing to you, what it was turning you into, and you didn’t like it. This wasn’t you and daily did you work to find the woman you knew so well. She was in there, not so far from the surface, and you would find her. Pat and J would allow nothing less.

J could see, so intuitive was he and so knowing of you was he, that you weren’t all that angry. Not really. You were more so badly hurt; your large and beautifully open heart practically carved out with others’ names. Indeed, if J had gently opened your chest to crack into your rib cage and extracted your heart, the hunk of meat pulsating slower and slower with each passing second as rivulets of red ran down his slender wrists and disappeared into the royal purple you so dearly loved to encase yourself within, he didn’t doubt that your heart would be taken up with things which only harmed you. Names, places, faces... all carved into the brightest, warmest heart he had ever seen. J loathed entirely the way it seemed that life itself had been working against you in the recent months, a mostly silent observer was he to all that you struggled with. The sleepless nights; the constant stomach aches; the backwards and forwards of friendships and social ties which seemed to be one dynamic and then just as suddenly another, leaving you dizzy; the weight loss and the nausea; the questions which only bred more of the same without producing even a single answer to still your rampaging mind... oh, but you were suffering. Perhaps even more than even he was fully aware of. 

For his own part, Pat was incredibly emotionally intuitive and wise was he, matured beyond his years due to the emotional and psychological trauma of caring for his sick and dying grandfather all alone when he was just eighteen; shortly after getting himself back into high school while arranging and attending the funeral, grieving and dealing with false accusations and rumours at the same time. It had all taken quite the heavy toll on Pat but just like you, he did his best to get through everything. J, too, was a tortured soul, but he had emerged from his chrysalis already and he was owning it with everything that he had. A decade older than you and Pat was he, and this had afforded J his own advantages. For one, he was no longue plagued so greatly by his past and it left him more available for you and for Pat. Both of your men were bursting with pride for you and each did their own part every single day to be there for you and to support you as best as they could, all too knowing were they of your great suffering, which they so desperately wished to alleviate by any means necessary. For J, this was a darker statement but nevertheless did you appreciate the sentiment.

It was true that when you weren’t feeling well, you distanced yourself emotionally from J and Pat; you didn’t want to be around them, for you knew that they would, in their own vastly different ways, try to comfort you. And even if every cell of your body was screaming out to be held, you just couldn’t allow yourself that luxury. Even so, even still, you allowed Pat and J to remain by your side, to stay with you even when you felt like you were your worst possible self; turned cold and bitter were you by all that you fought through and dealt with every single day. Despite sometimes toying with the idea of completely sinking into the same apathy which practically radiated off J, you knew that you weren’t that person, and so, while you allowed yourself to be influenced by J’s own devil may care attitude, while you encouraged yourself to emulate his apathy, you also stuck close by to Pat, who kept you warm and safe inside yourself. Used was Pat, the youngest of your trio, to being used and abused by others and their wrong opinions of him, and you took a great deal of courage from that. If Pat could do it, so could you. If J could do it... so, too, could you.

And, oh, how proud your clown and your koala were of you, their Rosie, for through it all... through it all, you loved. It was something both men truly admired within you; your heart, despite your temptation for it to be so, was never wholly compromised by the true depths of pain and sorrow which you held within you. You were so giving of a soul, so kind and warm and compassionate and, oh, the love you held for your now husband and J, who was finding his own dynamic within the changed one of you and Pat, was insurmountable. You loved them dearly as individuals and you cherished immeasurably the bond which you maintained with them as a polyamorous relationship. You would be so lost without them in the worst of days and you needed them so badly; perhaps now more than ever. 

On this night was it the same old routine. You were weary to the bone, the core of you dimming in brightness, like a night light which was in dire need of a battery replacement. You were already beginning to feel sick and you were contemplating watching an hour or so of The Goldbergs, your favourite comfort show, before you went to bed; it only ever took an hour before your least liked night time companion, a stomach ache with as yet unknown causes, which made it impossible for you to lay down or to go to sleep, began to fade so that you could finally get some rest. It wasn’t late in the evening, only eight, and you were exhausted in every sense of the word. You just wanted your comfort items and your men and then you wanted to sleep and forget the rest of the world even existed. It was all just too much and yet somehow was it not enough. The world was against you, it seemed, and you were almost at the emotional threshold of not even wanting Pat and J near you. It was a boundary you had always sworn to yourself that you would never cross, so you were aware also of how critical it was for you to simply... be as much as you could. 

You got yourself ready for bed on autopilot, your mind somehow both empty yet also noisy was it with thoughts which repeated themselves and seemed to trip over one another in their haste to pass through your tried and tired mind. Oh, but you were so tired of being angry, you were infuriated by your own rage, knowing were you that it was not who you really were and that it was a circumstantial and therefore temporary experience... though that did not to calm your nerves. You were just so done with the situations and emotions which had tormented you daily, defeated but not defeated were you. It was a very subtle but important distinction and it was one which your men sought to reassure you of this night. You got yourself into bed without saying anything to either of them. Guilt nipped at you and you closed your eyes against the lump in your throat. Everything was just too much and you felt both trapped within your own self but also completely outside of yourself as emotions heightened, tensions rose... you choked on a breath and you felt yourself falling, falling...

“Ea-sy, sweets.” J advanced into the bedroom cautiously, his royal purple trench coat making him out to be far bulkier than he was. His chin was dipped and the low light in the room only accentuated the sharpness of his cheekbones. He looked positively menacing with the slight tilt of his head, those stringy green strands gently brushing across the tops of his shoulders as he moved. He was stalking you and you felt a shiver which was somehow both hot and cold dance up your spine as J stepped closer and closer to you. “Wha’s bit-ing at’cha, hm?” J’s hands came palm up to face you; he was telling you without words that he wasn’t here to bother you or to harm you in any kind of way, but he was here to genuinely listen to you and to help you. You were at the point where J’s intervention was what you most desperately needed, and your sharp eyes caught sight of Pat hanging close by behind J.

You were never alone in your feelings, no matter how much your mind told you otherwise.

J sat down on top of the duvet, his body turned wholly towards you and his dark eyes trained on your face. As you stared at J, listening to what he wasn’t telling you, Pat slid into bed beside you and practically smushed himself against your body, as if he was trying to climb inside your skin and become one with you. J was telling you that you were going to talk in the way that he had sat atop the bed; you couldn’t get out on your side and with Pat laying beside you, his arms around you and his head resting on your shoulder, you couldn’t get out that side, either. Both men were going to listen to you and as a family unit were you going to work it all out. J trusted you implicitly and he had been a silent observer for all of the time in which you had been struggling with this, as had Pat, and now was enough enough. Pat, picking up on J’s cues, reinforced J’s words. “Talk to us, sweetheart.” Please. Pat leaned upwards to press a kiss against your cheek, truly pleading with you was he. He understood, just as much as J did, how powerful emotions could be, and ones which were intense and yet unchecked were more dangerous still.

You hesitated. What could you say which hadn’t already been said in the previous months? But even so, J’s soft chocolate gaze and the sympathetic and tender look in Pat’s eyes, so much like J’s, helped to break any seal which still remained within you and words poured out of you like someone had left the bath running. Periodically did Pat press a kiss anywhere he could reach. J, when he finally got comfortable in the knowledge that you were talking to them, reached out and held both of your hands in his. The calloused pads of his thumbs rubbed across the backs of your hands in a slow motion. J kept you grounded in the moment and Pat kept you reassured of the love which was in the room, so rich and so potent was it in its entirety that it was almost a fourth presence in your bedroom.

When at last were you done, Pat hummed in empathy and pressed kisses all over the side of your face, his plush lips soft and warm against your skin. He was gentle and delicate and his eyelashes fluttered against your skin like the wings of a butterfly, always so careful with you was he. J was silent for one moment, two, three... you thought that J wasn’t even going to talk at all, but then he shuffled forward even more so that his knees were overlapped with yours. The heavy weight of him somewhat atop you and the pressure of Pat pressed up against you reassured you just as much as his next words did.

“All right, look - listen - “ J took one hand away from yours so that he could talk with it, so expressive was he. “These people have got nothing on you, doll. They are... they think they have it all, they think they’ve reached where they’re supp-osed to be, but you - “ J huffed in amusement, “now you, my wild red rose, are somethin’ special.” There was true pride in his voice and you couldn’t have stopped your smile if you had tried. “Your, ah - your anger is right. Ya’ a prickly pear, ain’t’cha? Use it, hm? Use your anger to push ya’ forward to where ya’ wanna be. Ya’ bigger than ya’ know, and the kid here is just the same. I’m proud o’ya.”

Pat shuffled closer to you, almost lying on top of you now was he, and it seemed that neither of your men could get enough of you. They had to have you near them, they had to take care of you because to take care of you was to take care of their own selves. One’s spirit could starve as well as the body and with you were their souls and their bodies taken care of. You were their light in the dark. if J was the grenade, then you were the pin. If Pat was fire, then you were the match which made him that way. Both men were complete on their own, but with you were they altogether more, altogether stronger as individuals as did the light of your love warm them from the inside out and protect them even from their own selves.. With each other was this equally true, and as a trio were you powerful. Gotham trembled before the three of you. People knew not The Joker’s connections, dangerous would it be for you and for Pat, but the three of you knew well enough this truth of what you were to one another and you each held it dear to you. You held each other close to your own selves and the beating of your heart echoed within the chests of Pat and J, for surely there was no zest to life without you. 

You, the woman who was so full of anger, so full of pain, that most days she wondered if she was to become bitter and cold. You, the woman who, despite feeling this way, was only ever warm and kind to those she held dear. You, the woman who had threads of gold within her soul, the woman who protected her loved ones fiercely, the woman who baked and created and loved with everything that she had within her despite even the things she faced and went up against every day. You, the woman who had experienced so much pain but despite that, only showed love and tenderness. You, the woman who gave so much to others, more than anyone knew other than herself, and still managed to find time for herself and for the things she most held dear.

You... the woman who was so beautiful inside and out, the woman who took all of her passion and her pain to portray the deepest of loves in the things she created. The woman who was so much more than she knew, one of the very best humans. The one who kept J from wholly going off the rails and the one who gave Pat the strength to be uncaring towards those who deliberately sought to misunderstand him.

You.

“I don’t know what to do,” You spoke generally to the room. “I’m so sick of feeling like this.”

“You don’t have ta’ do anything. Just be.” J’s hands squeezed yours and you knew that the moment was coming to an end. If there was one thing J never skimped on, it was making sure that you went to bed when you needed to, that you were taken care of. He did the very same thing for Pat and though J took little care of himself, you and Pat picked up that slack and in this way were all three of you tended to and looked after. “Just be ya’self, hm? I know ya’ know how. Doin’ it right now.”

“Leave it with us, strawberry, right? All the... the pain and the anger... I know what it’s like and I know what it can do to someone. So come to the old man and me.” Pat flashed J a grin. The older man grunted but otherwise didn’t take the bait. He had bigger things to attend to in that moment. “Stick to us and we’ll keep you here with us. You’re not alone, okay?”

J gave a solemn nod as his eyes met yours and you knew, somewhere deep within you, that a vow had just been made by one man, sealed by the other... and upheld by you, so thoroughly and so unashamedly did you complete one another.

“All right, ah - to bed with ya’ young ones, hm?”

 J stood up and turned in one fluid movement, which prompted Pat to lay down fully beside you. As you sunk down into a prone position did Pat tuck you in and get comfortable with you in the usual way you slept. J did his nightly checks of all of the locks, the windows, all the possible exits and entrances into the house... he took off his face paint and he stripped down to his underwear before he, too, followed Morpheus’ call to the bedroom where his loves, his life, laid to rest. He made no pretence this night and only climbed in beside Pat, lying down on his back, his chocolate eyes trained on the room as you shut off the lamp.

Three tortured souls, three fractured hearts, found rest, as did the love they held for one another kept each other safe. Whispers of love were heard and returned, hands interlinked in the dark, limbs entangled... and anger, thick and almost impossible to shake on your own, melted away into nothing but love. You could survive this, dear heart, for your loves would allow nothing less. You were safe.

[naromoreau]

Snowed in

This one is for @seedsplease, you asked me for soft nsfw in front of the fire place at the Ranch. I hope you like how this turned up, because I don’t know where all the angst came from XD. Thank you! ________________________________________ Pairing: John Seed x Reader, John Seed x Deputy Raiting: NSFW You dragged the dead weight of the rifle slumping down your body, the muzzle carving a zigzag pattern on the fresh mud, and the strap digging a painful crease on the flesh of your shoulder. Maybe leaving everyone behind at Fall’s End wouldn’t be counted among your greatest decisions yet still you got what you wanted.

Striding under the heavy rain, your legs grumbled for the harsh treatment while the last rays of the winterly pale sun riddled through the foliage like through a sieve. The chill air seeped through your jacket, gnawing at your very bones, the freezing sensation magnified by your soaked clothes. If you could only find a fucking truck, before the drowsiness took over your brain, and even the voice in your head started to slur your panic.

The inclined path followed for a few yards carpeted by interspersed turfs. You lost your footing stepping into a divot, cursing between clicking teeth, until you spotted a wooden building greeting you in the distance. “Well, fuck me.” With no map and no GPS, you managed to land your ass at the front of Seed Ranch, the first place you wanted go, yet the last place it was good for you.

You hid a growl making your stealthy way around as much as your pained ankle allowed it, noticing that due to the unbearable cold all the guards had been removed. You dashed among crates and barrels while above you the now purple sky unleashed a cleansing fury, every drop of water drubbing in staccato over you, like under the direction of an overexcited conductor.

Your lungs fought to give you the air you needed, and well, perhaps it was time to actually rest for a bit. The flooded surface splashed under your boots as you sought an almost dry spot, and crouched in a secluded corner. Around you the rain turned into soft snow, delicate flakes carried by the wind, and you glanced at your nails. They were blue. It wasn’t that bad, you thought, as you forced your fingers to grip the flesh of your own arms and your teeth chattered uncontrollably, biting the tip of your tongue. The coppery flavor of your blood swamped in your mouth but the pain was almost nonexistent. The edges of your sight blurred into jagged black, before you catched faint, muffled footsteps approaching you. If you could only move your hand.

“My dear Deputy, what do I owe this honour?” John Seed ducked next to you before reaching a hand to touch your almost comatose body. “Shit, deputy, you’re freezing!” His voice tapped in your ear, the mocking tone completely gone and replaced by strained anguish as he got rid of his coat, putting it over you in a swift movement.

He lifted you from the ground, cradling you against his chest, protective hands grasping you hard. “It’s ok, my dear, everything is going to be alright,” he reassured you whispering into your ear, and the only thing you could do was shudder like a newborn pigeon.

Now he was almost running into the house, but his words still reached your words under a steady rhythm. “Hey, darling, hey!” he muttered as your conscience balanced at the edge of oblivion, “focus on my voice, don’t fall asleep Deputy, don’t!”

You tried, even if half your mind wanted to, just because it was him, and you’d go to great lengths to sour his life, but the desperation running on every word was a whiplash in your face. It must’ve been important.

“How do you get yourself in this kind of–” he trailed off, clutching you even tighter against him and you leaned into him. “It’s alright, sh, you’re safe now,” he said with a sense of finality.

You crossed the threshold of the house once you saw as an enemy fort, securely in his arms, and it irked you how good it felt. His spicy mint scent was one of the few things you were still able to recognize and it grounded you, every little wisp traveling to your haggard brain, reminding you who you were, who he was, even if you were still too weak to respond.

He placed you on the bearskin rug in front of the big fire at the center of the living room, tossing carelessly his soaked coat aside. Your entire body shuddered as he peeled the layers of sodden cloth out of your body.

“Listen to me, deputy, I’m not going to harm you,” he said taking off your boots and pulling down your jeans, “but you’ll die if I don’t get these off you,  you hear me?”

You locked eyes with him, and it striked you the deep concern etched in his brow, blue eyes surveying your face almost with pain. You lied naked on the rug in no time and he dashed off your side just to comeback ten seconds later carrying two magnificent wool blankets he placed over you. He was as soaked as you, and you lifted a dainty finger to point at him.

“John,” you finally said with a gruesome effort, “your clothes– wet–cold.”

He chuckled, grasping your hand. “My dear, you’re at the verge of dying yet you still worry about me, even though I haven’t treated you in the most gracious way.”

His hands made short work of his vest, and his shirt, and kneeled as he was next to you, you reached your fingers to trace the skein of tattoos and scars. The numbing cold was dissipating slowly, but now all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, to live again the fleeting moment when you were able to hear his heartbeat.

“Come,” you said, blinking slowly, “please, I’m cold.”

He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe your words, and quickly shuck off his trousers, sliding next to you under the blankets. He was warmer than you and between the strong fire at your back and the maddening heat in front of you, you finally felt a bit more alive.

You closed your arms around his body, pressing every inch of you to every inch of him, and he rubbed your arms and back, trying to diminish the shivers and goosebumps that flared on your skin. You tilted your head up, catching the blush on his cheeks, as your feet bumped against his shins and your muscles relaxed.

“Are you feeling better?,” he asked you with a wavering voice, and it only took you a roll of your hips to know why.

“Yes,” you said with the faintest of whispers, “but– I don’t– why are you doing this?”

He heaved a hard sigh, that mingled with yours, his arm possessively tugged around your waist. “I– don’t know, I don’t know really, maybe you’re waiting for this groundbreaking reason, but the truth is I don’t know.” He shifted in your arms, holding you even tighter. “Maybe is a sin, and it clouds my mind, but when I saw you there, dying out of cold, I told myself I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Because of Joseph?” you offered.

“No, no, no,” he said placing his chin on the crown of your head, “no, little bird, because of me. What if I told you, you changed something,” he grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, “in here? You unburdened me, but I know I’m a sinner, and you’d never say–”

“Yes.” You gave your hips another roll and trapped his hard cock between your legs, his chest heaving with hitching breaths.

“Are- are you sure?” he gruffed, blue eyes delving deep into yours.

You kissed him as a whole answer, his tongue warring for dominance and you let him, your hips rocking with his rock hard cock rubbing between your folds. His mouth trailed down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin hard enough to bruise. He flipped you on your back and pinned down your wrists to the rug, your thighs clasping at his hard on.

“You really have no idea what you do to me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered with a sliver of something wicked in his voice, and god in heaven, a gush of liquid trickled down the apex of your thighs.

A moaned escaped you, as he palmed one breast, diving down to catch your nipple in his mouth, his other hand stealing down your abdomen, his fingers trickling at your entrance and curling over your clit. “A little excited are we not?”

You wanted to respond, but your words were dulled by your whimpers, his voice soaking into your skin. He thrust forward, the friction of his dick against your clit, dragging small hums of pleasure out of your throat.

“Please, John,” you begged, your fingernails raking as he moved, pressing against you in all the right ways.

Your legs fell open, circling around his waist and now it was his time to gasp and groan as you closed your hand around his dick, to align him to your entrance just so. He devoured your lips as he slid slowly inside you, giving you time to adjust to every inch intruding in you. And you were certainly thankful for it, because he was by far the biggest you’d ever take. Your rough exhalations fanned against his neck and a growl tore from his throat unbidden the second he was fully inside you.

“My dear, you feel like heaven,” he grunted against your lips, now rocking his hips and you realized this was going to be a very short trip to the end line. Every ridge and vein in his cock stroked in all the right angles, his tip hitting against your sweet spot making you writhe and cry out with every thrust of his hips.

You were bracketed between his arms, his body arching against yours, and your legs closed tighter around him. You wanted him closer, wanted to trip over the line of your orgasm, grazing at it with every pump, with every assault of his cock to your cunt.

“Don’t fight it,” he mumbled, and it didn’t surprised you when your walls clenched around him, your back arching as the spark of white flared up behind your eyelids.

He kneeled between your thighs, hoisting your hips up and slammed every inch of that delicious dick inside you. “God, you feel good, so wet, so tight,” he breathed to the empty living room, “and just for me, my Deputy, my little bird.”

With a feral growl he came inside you, his body shaking apart until he finally collapsed on top of you.

He propped on one elbow, kissing every free spot in your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t save you for you to be bound to me by an obligation,” he said with a neutral tone but a possessive hand curled around you, fastening you to him, and you suspected that pushing him away would swiftly bring back the Inquisitor from deep within him. “You can leave if you want.”

It was really lucky that what you felt, was solid enough to keep yourself steady under those hypnotic blue eyes. “I want to stay, John, because of you, not because I’m bound to,” you said, reveling in the sensation of his come now dripping down your thighs. “I’m yours.”

He smiled giving you a sloppy kiss, all fervor and yearning, as through the window the flakes eddied down in the freezing wind.

[frickfracksnatchisback]

Fear of Infection (Monster AU)

So I love @teenytinyhatkid‘s Monster AU to death (haha get it???) and this idea for a shortish story would not leave me alone (and this took way too pecking long to write asdfjks). Premise is that Hat Kid is acting strange in the monster house which leads to almost everybody freaking out and investigating. And it turns out that Hat Kid isn’t all what she seems...

Warning! Bloody (and possibly gory) descriptions of animal corpses. No human gore though, so you’re safe there!  Enjoy the angst!

***

It was like any other normal day outside.  The sun was shining brightly, the spring flowers were all in bloom, and the air was filled with chirping birds. A small hatted child was running in the backyard of a small house, laughing as she ran through the freshly cut grass. Another child came close behind her, they were both playing a fun game of tag. As the two children laughed and played in the backyard of their home, one particularly tall adult watched over them. He kept a look out, making sure that the two young girls wouldn’t get into any trouble. As he watched, another adult was planting in the garden not too far away. The sun was shining down on her straw hat as she planted the herbs and vegetables. Yes, all was perfectly normal in this household. The werewolf pup playing chase with the human child, the vampire keeping watch over them, and the witch gardening…

Well, perhaps “normal” wasn’t the right term.

“Thanks for agreeing to watch over them, dearie. You’re being a big help!” CC said happily as she dug up another hole in the small garden with her trowel. Snatcher grunted in reply, steadily watching the girls like a hawk. He shifted his umbrella to get more cover himself from the sunlight. He really had no need to, he was pretty much shaded head to toe already. Not to mention he was sitting on the porch, which had a big enough awning to give him more than enough protection. But in Snatcher’s opinion, you could never be too careful when you’re a vampire. Especially when the sunlight was as strong as it was today.

“I hope it’s not too much trouble for you. I’d do it myself if I could, but I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.” CC joked as she planted a cucumber plant into the ground. Snatcher chuckled lightly.

“Who knows? You could make a spell or a potion that could do that.” he joked back, laughing as CC playfully threw one of her spare gardening gloves at him.

“You’re quite the rascal when you want to be.” she giggled, going back to her gardening.

“Hey, would I be me if I wasn’t?” Snatcher grinned, making CC giggle even more. He quickly went back to watching the two girls. It really wasn’t that much of a bother to be honest. Yes, she did wake him up much earlier than he was used to being up. Yes, it was annoyingly sunny out. And yes, he could be getting some lawyer work done or go out to look for a meal. But hey, CC bribed him with saying she would get him some blood bags. And it wasn’t too hard of a job to be honest, so how could he turn that down?

He brought his attention back to the two girls. It looked like they were taking a break from all the fun and games for now. Hat Kid was calmly sitting in the shade of a tree while Mu was...digging. Snatcher groaned, not again.

“Hey CC, the little gremlin is making a mess again.” he told CC. She stopped what she was doing and sighed.

“Please don’t call her that.” she said politely and turned around towards the pup. “Sweetie, what have I told you about digging holes in the backyard?” she called back. The little werewolf pup look up, her paws covered in dirt.

“I think I found a rabbit den!” she said as she grinned mischievously, her tail wagging behind her. She ignored CC and went back to digging. CC just shook her head and went back to what she was doing. Snatcher also shook his head, but more so at CC’s actions. When would she ever start being more assertive with that brat?

“You alright kiddo?” He yelled across to Hat Kid, who seemed to be staring off into space. She didn’t reply, her face had an odd expression. “Kiddo? I said, are you alright?” he yelled again. This time she snapped out of her haze and nodded back.

“Yeah! Just tired!” she called back and went to staring at the ground. It looked like she was picking up rocks or looking for bugs. From where Snatcher was sitting, it was kind of hard for him to tell.

“Is it just me, or has the kid gotten bigger?” Snatcher asked CC. She simply nodded as she was working.

“Wouldn’t be too unlikely dear. She’s been getting these awful growing pains lately. I know her appetite has certainly gotten bigger!” CC said, patting the soil firmly. Snatcher perked up from where he was sitting.

“Growing pains?” he asked, a bit worryingly. He hadn’t really been kept up to date with all the happenings in the house. He was busy with more important things after all. Things either relating to work, paying the bills, or… Well, CC didn’t know about all the hunting trips with Conductor. And he planned to keep it that way. Still, he definitely hadn’t been checking on the kid recently. That raised a few concerns from him.

“Oh yes, poor dear. She’s said her head has been hurting a lot lately, along with her waist.” CC explained. She grabbed a potion from the belt she was wearing. She poured its contents into the roots of the plant. As always, she couldn’t do a task without some kind of magic involved.

“Her head? You sure she isn’t coming down with something?” he asked, very confused. CC looked up at him and shrugged.

“I don’t think she’s sick, she wouldn’t be eating if she was. She just has some body aches here and there, other than that she’s fine.” She said as she quickly went back to gardening. Snatcher could tell she was worried though. She wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions. And to be honest? He was worried about the kid too. She might have injured herself, that was always a possibility. But then again… He looked back at the kid. She was happily playing with rocks and twigs she had managed to find on the ground, as if they were dolls. Seeing this made him shrug his worries away.

Eh, it was probably nothing too serious.

“You should really she the way she eats nowadays.” CC spoke up, tearing away Snatcher’s concentration once again. “She really enjoyed the beef stew we had a couples day ago! She even asked for thirds!” she joked, laughing to herself as she dug another hole in the ground. “If she keeps it up, she outgrow all of her old clothes. She’s already lost a few...huh?” she said, her trowel hitting something in the dirt.

“What? What did you find?” Snatcher asked, very curious.

“Hold on, I’m trying to find that out.” She said, digging up the ground faster. She saw something and quickly grabbed it. She trying pulling it out of the ground, tugging on whatever she had a hole of. She let out a surprise yelp as she finally pull it out, nearly knocking herself back. She started at what was in her hand, it was a piece of fabric. A shirt to be more precise. She looked it over with a puzzled expression. Her eyes widened, as she quickly tried to dig up the earth with her own hands. And underneath the dirt was a huge pile of dirt-covered clothes.

“Aren’t those the kid’s?” Snatcher asked, recognizing a few of the shirts and outfits.

“Yes...yes they are.” CC grumbled under her breath. Snatcher looked back at her, alarmed. Uh oh, now she was going to get assertive. There was only one person who was guilty of this, and they where about to get one heck of a lecture. She quickly stood up and yelled behind her.

“MU!”

The werewolf pup stopped digging again, the hole being much larger than it was before. She bounded over towards CC on all fours, her tail wagging back and forth. Once she got up to CC’s feet, she stood back on two legs.

“Ooo! Did you find a gopher? Can I eat it?” Mu smiled, her tail still wagging happily behind her. Her face dropped once she saw the face that CC was giving her though. It was the kind of face you never wanted to see as a child. The kind of face that said You’re in big trouble young lady. Her tail drooped along with her puppy ears.

“Would you care to explain why I found this buried in the garden?” she said sternly, holding up the ruined shirt. Mu’s face turned from ashamed to confused once she saw the shirt.

“What? I didn’t bury that!” she said, holding up her hands. But CC was not amused.

“So now you’re lying to me?” she said as she crossed her arms.

“Wha- No! I swear I didn’t bury it!” Mu begged.

“Well, who else could’ve buried it then?” CC asked her. Mu opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She thought for a minute, thinking about her answer carefully.

“A raccoon?” she said, laughing nervously as CC glared over her.

“That doesn’t explain why they’re covered in dried blood.” Snatcher spoke up from behind them. He had made his was over to the hole, picking up one of the dirty clothes and sniffing it. “Jeez kid, did you kill something in this?” he asked, turning his nose away from the smell.

“No! Because I didn’t do it!” Mu yelled.

“I think that’s enough time outside today.” CC sighed, shaking her head. “Come on. If you won’t admit you did it you’re staying in your room until you tell the truth.” she said, motioning for Mu to go back in the house.

“Nuh uh! I’m making a break for it!” Mu panicked, trying to run away as fast as she could. CC saw it coming though, and was quick to catch her. She lifted her up in her arms, keeping a tight hold on her. “Let me go! I’m innocent!” Mu grumbled, squirming and struggling to get away.

“May I give a bit of advice? Maybe next time you shouldn’t say you’re going to run away, especially if you’re guilty as charged.” Snatcher joked, Mu growling at him.

“Don’t give her ideas.” CC fussed at him, turning to head for the door. “Be a dear and tell her to come inside too, won’t you?” she asked him, somehow keeping her hold on the struggling pup as she pointed towards Hat Kid.

“Sure thing.” Snatcher said, snickering at Mu shouting for freedom. He went over to Hat Kid with his umbrella while CC went in the opposite direction.

“Help! I’ve been wrongly accused!” Mu shouted, the door slamming shut on her words. Snatcher chuckled to himself. When would that brat ever learn? And speaking of brat… “Hey kiddo, it’s time to go back inside.” he called to her. She looked up from her piles of sticks and pebbles.

“Aww…” she whined, getting up off the ground anyways.

“What? I thought you said you were tired!” Snatcher said, grinning wide. Hat Kid groaned at him and rolled her eyes. “Hurry up. The sooner we get out of this cursed sunlight, the better.” he said, walking faster.

“I think it’s nice!” Hat Kid said as she tried to keep up with him. “The sun is really warm and it makes me feel cozy!” she beamed at him, skipping alongside him. He scoffed and shook his head.

“Easy for you to say, kiddo! You don’t have to worry about burning up. Literally.” he said, making Hat Kid mumble awkwardly. As they made it to the back of the house, he put up his umbrella and held the door open for her. “After you, I insist!” he said, bowing in a ridiculous gesture.

“Thank you!” she giggled as she stepped inside.

“Don’t mention it.” he said as he followed after her, letting the door close behind him. Hat Kid rushed to the living room as he was putting his umbrella in the umbrella stand. Once he was done he decided to go in that same room.  As he walked in he saw the kid sitting on the couch, watching TV. “Mind if I join you?” he asked as he went up to her. She nodded, patting the seat next to her. He smiled and sat right down. He figured he could use a bit of relaxing time after being out in the sun all day. They both stayed there for a couple hours. Hat Kid watching her cartoons and Snatcher slowly starting to fall asleep next to her.

But he quickly woke up as his stomach growled loudly. Hat Kid didn’t seem to notice him, as she was transfixed by the TV. He rubbed his stomach, guess he was hungrier than he thought. He grumbled, CC was still too busy with the little monster to give him his blood bags. Looks like he was going to have to look for a meal, as much as he didn’t want to. But hey, nothing a little hunting trip couldn’t fix. And the sun was just beginning to set, which was perfect timing for him.

“I’m going out.” he told Hat Kid, pushing himself off the couch. “If CC asks where I’ve gone, just tell her I went shopping or something.” he said, straightening the cuffs of his shirt.

“Are you going hunting again?” she asked, he was surprise that she figured him out so quickly.

“Wow kid, read my mind like an open book.” he grinned. “Yes, I’m going hunting. I just need a quick bite to eat, that’s all.” he said, heading towards the hallways that lead to the front door.

“Can I come with you?” Hat kid asked again.

“What? No, you can’t come with me.” Snatcher told her, standing in the doorway. “I mean, unless you want to eat raw deer.” he joked. But Hat Kid didn’t laugh. She just rubbed the top of her head and pouted.

“But I’m hungry...” she mumbled quietly.

“What was that?” Snatcher asked, he didn’t quite hear her.

“Nothing!” she said quickly. He looked at her quizzically, she was acting rather strange.

“Okay then...” he said, unsure of what she had said. But he didn’t dwell on it further, he was too hungry to care. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Smell ya later!” he called back. Hat Kid smiled back at him, still rubbing her head for some reason. He paid little mind to it though, as he went down the hall to the front door. But as he opened the door his conscious told that something wasn’t right. He hesitated before going out the door. Was she going to be okay?

He shook the thought off, telling himself that he was worrying over nothing. The kid just had some growing pains, that’s all. And with that, he went outside and closed the door, leaving his worries behind him.

***

The entrance door creaked as Snatcher sneaked back into the house. He was visibly scowling, grumbling under his breath. His hunting trip had lasted longer than he thought it would, and it had all been a huge waste of time. And he didn’t managed to catch anything in the forest, which left him in a rather bad mood. Whatever, he was going to get those blood bags from CC soon. Maybe he could hold it off until then.

He silently closed the door behind him. The house was quiet, everyone was probably already in bed. Typical, since the sun had set the moment he walked in.  But he was used to that, he had come home later before. He tip-toed through the hallway, careful not to wake the kid up. That wouldn’t end well for him. Or worse, CC could be-

“Snatcher? Is that you dear?”

Awake...

He froze in his steps once he heard her voice from the living room.. Peck he thought to himself.  He held his breath and push himself against the wall. Maybe she just thought he heard him. And if he stayed quiet enough, maybe he could get out of-

“Snatcher, I know you’re there.”

Nope, she definitely heard him. He sighed in defeat and made his way over to the living room entrance. He peeked in, not wanting to walk in just yet. CC was sitting on the couch near the TV, drinking tea. She didn’t look too angry, so that was a plus. But she had an expression on her face that he couldn’t quite read. He quietly stepped into the room, she kept silent. There was tension in the air, which meant something was definitely up. CC put her empty cup down on a nearby table and looked back at him.

“We need to have a talk.” She said, as if she was his mother. Snatcher shifted uncomfortably. Oh boy he thought. This is going to be a long night.

“Listen, whatever it was I didn’t do it.” he said in his own defense.

“This isn’t really a time for jokes, sweetie.”

“I wasn’t trying to make a joke.”

“Ye sure about that? Because that sounded an awful lot like a joke to me, laddie.”

Snatcher whipped around towards the new voice. It belonged to the very last person he wanted to see tonight, Conductor. He was sitting in the armchair not too far away from CC, gripping a bottle and glass of what Snatcher assumed to be alcohol. He was staring back at him accusingly, his face cold and stern. Great, looks like he was going to get two lectures. And from the grumpy old man no less. Just perfect.

“What is he doing here?” Snatcher asked, annoyed as he pointed to Conductor sitting in the chair. Just seeing him gave him a massive headache. Peck, being in the near proximity of him was like a massive headache all by itself.

“Oi! Ah have every right to know about what the lass is going through, ye bum!” Conductor shouted. CC shushed him, gesturing him to keep quiet. Conductor saw this and grumbled in his chair, taking a swig of his glass.

“What? She just has some growing pains, nothing more.” Snatcher said simply. Conductor sat up and glared at him, as if he had said something offensive. He turned back to CC. “It is just growing pains, right?” he asked her. She kept her head down, saying nothing for a few minutes. She bit her lip nervously before finally speaking up.

“Actually...that may not be the case.”

Snatcher was shocked at her words. “What do you mean that may not be the case?” he asked, rather miffed that no one was telling him anything.

“You may want to sit down for this.” CC said, patting the seat next to her. Snatcher hesitated for awhile before plopping down next to her.

“It’s not like I’m going to faint.” he mumbled, shifting in his spot till he was somewhat comfortable.

“Well...” CC trailed off. “Conductor didn’t take it very well-”

“Ah did just fine!” He screamed, CC was quick to shush him again. Snatcher could see that he was lying though, very badly too. His hands were shaking as he filled up his glass again. And as fast as he filled it, he chugged the alcohol down in one swift motion.

“Conductor, sweetie, please don’t make yourself sick!” CC said distressingly.

“Ah’m fine, lass. Now get on with it.” he growled, making her shrink back in her seat. She took in a deep breath, shaking a bit in fear.

“Go ahead. The quicker you get it over with, the better.” Snatcher tried to comfort her, slowly putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him and gave him a weak smile.

“Thank you.” she mouthed, not wanting to disturb Conductor. “Well… the little one has being getting worse now.” she said meekly, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Okay then…” Snatcher said, trying his best to collect himself. “How bad is ‘worse’?” he asked, fidgeting with his hands nervously. He hated it when he did that, but it was all he could think to do right now. He saw that CC looked like she was about to cry. Oh no he thought to himself. This can’t be good.

“I...I think she might be...” CC was choked up, her eyes watering. He told himself wasn’t going to panic. He was going to get through this bad news. Whatever it was he could handle-

“I think she might be infected.” CC said, breaking down as she finally managed to get the words out. If Snatcher wasn’t already a vampire, his skin would have been deathly pale at this moment.

“WHAT?!” he shouted, jumping from his seat. He couldn’t believe it. No, he wouldn’t believe it. They had all been so careful with watching over the kid! So how could she have-

He stopped panicking and walked towards Conductor in an angry stride. “You better start talking old man! And fast.” he hissed, clenching his fists by his side and gritting his teeth. Conductor was caught off guard, draining his glass before he noticed that Snatcher standing right in front of him.

“Wha- YER ACCUSING ME?!” he yelled, setting his glass down and standing up so they could see eye-to-eye. Snatcher was much taller than him, but that didn’t stop the two from giving each other death glares.

“How else would she have gotten it?!” Snatcher shouted back at him.

“Ye no good, dirty peckneck! I outta strangle ye with me bare hands!” Conductor said as he tried to stand on his toes to heighten himself.

“Wait!” CC said, quickly getting up to separate the two. “We don’t even know what it is yet! Please, don’t fight!” she said as she pushed the two apart. The two looked at her, confused out of their minds.

“You don’t know what it is?” Snatcher asked.

“Lass, I thought you said it was-” Conductor started, before Snatcher put up a finger to shush him.

“Well...that’s the problem. It’s hard to tell what it is, exactly. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” CC tried to explain, and failing miserably. The three fell silent for a moment, none of them knowing what to do about the predicament.

“Okay, let’s try to think this out.” Snatcher spoke up, distancing himself from Conductor. “Has she been scratching herself lately? Because he does that often.” he said, jabbing a thumb at Conductor. Conductor retaliated by slapping his hand away. “Watch it, old man.” he threatened as he glared at Conductor.

“She has been doing that, actually.” CC muttered. The two looked back at her again, then back at each other.

“Ha! So you did bite her then?” Snatcher said, smiling thinly at Conductor.

“What?! Ah did no such thing to the wee lass!” Conductor sputtered, holding his hands up defensively.

“No, no! That’s not just it!” CC fussed.

“Well what else could it be then?!” Snatcher snapped. He wasn’t handling the pressure very well. CC looked back at him, clearly irritated.

“I should be asking you that!” CC said hotly, poking as his chest. “How am I supposed to know? You think I know everything about turning symptoms? Because I don’t!” she continued, stomping away from the two. “I’m supposed to be the one who watches over her! And I...I just can’t-” she choked out, before falling back onto the couch. She covered her face and sobbed loudly, making Snatcher feel a twang of guilt inside him. He slowly made his way over to her, hoping he’d be able to comfort her.

“Hey, listen. It’s okay, you didn’t know about this.” he sat next to her and rubbed her back.

“I’m sorry it’s just-” she tried to speak through all her blubbering. “I have no clue what’s wrong with her or what she’s turning into. I don’t know if she has wereowl symptoms or...” she trailed off.

“Or…?” Snatcher asked.

“She could be turning into a bloodsucker, laddie.” Conductor spoke up as he came closer to the two. Snatcher looked at him, his eyes glaring daggers.

“Are you insane? You think she’s turning into a vampire?” Snatcher exclaimed, the Conductor was starting to get on his last nerve.

“It’s not too unlikely, dear.” CC broke in. “She’s been shaking all over, like you when you’re...hungry.” she explained, getting Snatcher’s full attention. “And she bit her lip today, very badly. And I almost thought I saw...” she stopped before plucking up the courage to say it.

“I think she had fangs.”

Snatcher eyes went wide. “F-fangs?” he said, a panicked smile on his face. CC nodded, looking back at him with pity. He took his hand off her, bringing his hands down to look at them. “N-no...I would never even consider biting the kid! Let alone turning her!” he said, fear on the edge of his voice.

“How do we know that ye didn’t do it on accident?” Conductor sneered. Snatcher stared at him for a moment, face-palmed, and shook his head.

“You don’t understand. Turning someone into a vampire is much more complicated than just a simple bite.” he groaned, rubbing the spot between his eyes. “I would have to feed off of her and then give her some of my own blood in exchange.” he explained, recalling the process all too well in his memory. “And it’s not an easy process. Unlike yours, that is. All you have to do is bite her once.” he finished. Conductor kept his mouth shut for a moment, processing his thoughts.

“Ye act like a real bumbling idiot when yer hungry. Are ye sure ye didn’t bite the lass?” he asked, cocking his head in question. Snatcher’s eyes thinned as he scowled back.

“Do you want an honest answer to that, old man? Or should I just carve it into your skull?” he hissed, stretching out his claws and digging them into the couch cushion.

“Will you two cut it out?!” CC shrieked, grabbing their attention. “Arguing is getting us nowhere!” she scolded them. They stayed in bitter silence, with Snatcher softly nodding. “Maybe we should just wait until morning. I think we all just need some rest.” She sighed, getting up from the couch.

“Sure, whatever.” Snatcher grumbled as he did the same. “We don’t have a lot of time though. We’ll need to find out what’s happening to kid soon, before things get ugly.” he said as he straighten his shirt collar and tie.

“Yer right there. Don’t want the lass biting and feeding off of peck knows what.” Conductor joked.

Something inside of Snatcher snapped as his eye twitched. And before he knew it, he was holding Conductor up by the throat. Conductor gasped and struggled for air as he was lifted off the ground. Snatcher’s eyes were glowing with rage and his fangs seemed to grow in size. CC watched in horror, frozen on the spot. She was too scared of what he would do next.

“I would. Never. Bite. The kid.” he snarled, tightening his grip as Conductor choked and gurgled. “Don’t you ever assume that I would hurt her like that again.” he said, showing off his gleaming, sharp fangs. He then let go of Conductor and watched him drop to the floor. Conductor gasped as he fell on his hands and knees, coughing up a storm. Snatcher simply watched the feeble old man, his shadow looming over his weak body. He leaned down ever-so slightly and whispered to him.

“You’re just a careless old fool, so quit denying it.”

Before he could brace himself, Conductor got up and popped him right in the nose.

He was knocked back with great force. His body slammed onto the hardwood floor and the back of his head bumped into the couch. He groaned, his eyes tightening with pain and watering. He laid there for a moment before quickly pushing himself up. Something warm trickled from his nose and he quickly went to cover it. He brought back his hand, he saw that it had smears of blood. He looked back at Conductor to see him shaking his hand in pain. Conductor then started wiping his hand on his white shirt, leaving behind small red stains.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re going to talk this out.” he laughed coldly, unaware of Conductor’s glare towards him as he held his nose. “Then again, why am I surprised? You always were a brute with conversation.” he grinned, flashing off his teeth. As he saw Conductor seething with rage his smile swiftly dropped.

“I’LL SHOW YE A ‘CONVERSATION’!” roared Conductor. He made to lunge towards Snatcher, would was still laying on the ground. He braced himself, outstretching his claws so he could give the old man a couple scratches once they made contact. Conductor’s hands were reaching for his face-

“ENOUGH!”

The two froze on the spot. Literally. A pulse of blue magic washed over them, freezing them like a statues. Conductor stood hunched over Snatcher, still reaching for his face but somehow managing to keep an impossible balance. Snatcher still had his claws out, still protecting his upper half through his frozen trance. CC was panting, she didn’t mean to cast that spell. But it had stopped them from killing each other, so that’s all that mattered. She walked up to them, their eyes were the only thing moving. They looked back at her, she sighed.

“If I unfreeze you both, you have to stop the fighting. Alright?” she asked them both. They couldn’t nod, but if they could they’d be doing it in unison. She quickly clapped her hands together. They both let out a yell as the spell was broken. And before he could move out of the way, Conductor fell on top of Snatcher. He grunted, feeling squished under the old-timer’s weight.

“Get. Off!” he wheezed, shoving Conductor off himself. Conductor yelped in surprise, his face hitting the floor and his hat falling off. Snatcher stood back up at an alarming speed, dusting himself off hurriedly. He tried fixing his tie but did it much too fast and undid it instead. He tore the tie off his neck and threw it on the ground.

“I am going to bed, I’ve had enough of this!” he growled, his hair puffing up.

“Darlings, what is all this racket?” Grooves said as he appeared in the doorway, yawning and half asleep. He was then fully awake as Snatcher came towards him and shoved him out of the way.

“GOOD! NIGHT!” he shouted, stomping off towards the attic room stairs. He slammed the door to his room, making the others jump and the house shake a little. Grooves looked back at CC and Conductor. CC had a very worried expression and Conductor was still getting up off the floor.

“What was that all about?” Grooves asked.

***

Snatcher tossed and turned in his old bed, the mattress creaking underneath him. He turned again for what felt like the hundredth time and stared at the ceiling. He huffed and then sighed, he just couldn’t sleep. He was too angry, his nose still being sore from that punch earlier. It wasn’t broken and the bleeding had fortunately stopped now, thanks to a couple tissues. But he was going to get back at that old coot for what he did.

Yet, as mad as he was at the Conductor, he was also extremely worried. What if he did infect the kid? It was a crazy notion, one that he dreaded. But it lingered in his mind like a bad dream. It was almost like he could picture-

Him standing over the kid in an alleyway. His claws sharp and ready to cut through flesh. His teeth bared and pointed, bigger and sharper. His eyes glowing and glaring, like he was a predator of the night. But he wasn’t all there. He was too hungry to notice or care. He didn’t care that the kid was crying. He didn’t care that her small body was shaking as he came closer and closer. He didn’t care that his claws were hurting her as he grabbed her. All he want to do was sink his teeth in and-

“Shut up.” he hissed at himself, smacking his face with a pillow. “That didn’t happen, and it never will.” he told himself. But he mind still wouldn’t let go of the dark thought. He knew that he could be very impulsive when it came to feeding. He hadn’t had a meal in days. And it could be possible that he slipped up and blacked out making him forget the whole thing…

No, he refused to believe it. He would never turn the kid. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared about her too much. And he would never, under the stars and moon, ever bite her. The kid turning into a vampire? It was a stupid, rash thought. One that he needed to forget and take his mind off of.

He got up from the bed and began pacing back and forth. Perhaps he was just...hungry. Yeah, that was it. The lack of blood was probably driving him crazy, making him paranoid over silly little things. He just couldn’t wait another day for those blood bags that CC promised. He probably wasn’t getting them anyways, not after that little fiasco. Which meant he needed to find some food for himself. He went over to the window, looking out into the backyard and into the woods. He’d just have to make another hunting trip, that’s all. Just go into the forest, find a quick meal, and get out before-

He immediately paused his thoughts as he saw a figure outside. A very small figure was running through the grass. He got closer to the glass and set his hands against it. Who on earth was that? He tried squinting his eyes, his vampiric vision helping him try to see who it was. Was it a burglar? No...too tiny. Was it the monstrous puppy? No...she’d be running on all fours if that were the case. Then who the heck was-

Snatcher gasped slightly as noticed the hat. The all too familiar top hat that he could recolonize in a flash. But...no it couldn’t be her. It just couldn’t be her. His eyes widened with fear as the kid stopped running and turned around. She looked back at the house, her movements odd and jittery. She looked up at the house, almost at him, with...

Two. Glowing. Eyes.

Snatcher was shaking in fear. He used all his willpower to keep himself from screaming. He put a hand to his mouth, and then another. The kid hadn’t noticed him watching her from the window, or she didn’t care, as she ran faster into the woods. He stood there in shocked silence before stepping back and dropping back onto his bed. He shivered, pulling a his hair with tears of despair in his eyes. Telling himself over and over that he didn’t see that, he didn’t see that, HE DIDN’T SEE THAT! There’s was no way that the kid had glowing eyes! Only werecreatures had glowing eyes! Or...or-

“Vampires...” he said through his weeping, the word caught in his throat. He held his face in his hands, sucking the air in through his teeth. He stayed like this for a few moments, tuning out the world around him. Then, as fast as he broke down crying, he stopped. He got up off his bed a second time, stiff and emotionless as a robot. He made his way over to the door and was about to reach for the doorknob. But he hesitated for a moment. Should he really go after the kid himself?

No, he had to bring someone with him. He had to. Even if it was CC, who would be skittish and scared the entire time they would be in the forest. Peck, he would even take Conductor with him at this point. He would most likely insist on it anyways, despite him being a major hindrance. But he just need someone, anyone to come with him into the forest. He just need some clarification, that’s all. Just some evidence or excuse that he could hold onto for dear life. Because he did not infect the kid, and he was going to prove it. He opened the door and hastily went to wake the others up.

Time for another hunting trip.

***

“Are ye sure ye saw the lassie run off here?” Conductor asked for the fifth time in a row as they were treading through the forest. The sounds of chirping crickets, crunching leaves, and the occasional scampering of startled critters were all around them. Yet this didn’t stop them from going deeper into the forest.

“I know what I saw.” Snatcher said. He had manage to fill the two in on what happened, keeping the details of his nervous breakdown to himself. He lead the group, perking his head up as he listened to his surrounding with his pointed ears. He stopped the group for a moment, his ears twitching, and then motioned for the two to keep following him from behind.

“I hope she’s okay...” CC whispered, trying her best to be extra quiet. She stepped on a branch, yelping at the dry snapping sound it made. “Sorry!” she apologized, but he paid little mind to it as they kept on walking. “You said she looked strange?” she asked, her voice even quieter. Snatcher turned back to look at her, looking more serious then he had ever been before.

“Strange is an understatement. This is...frightening, to say the least.” he put it simply, quickly going back to directing the group. CC and Conductor glanced at each other. CC then went back to following Snatcher. She thought if he was this serious about it, then he must be trusted. But Conductor wasn’t so sure, staying behind from the group for a moment. Was it really a good idea to put trust in him of all people? The same crazy bum who nearly broke his own neck? It just didn’t seem right…

“Conductor, are you coming?” CC whisper-shouted over to him. He snapped out of it, nodding back at her.

“Ah’m coming, Ah’m coming. Give me a minute.” he responded, catching up with the group.

“We haven’t got all day, old man. Who knows how deep in the kid is by now?” Snatcher said back to him. Conductor grumbled and followed them hastily. Looks like he really would have to follow him, as much as it annoyed him. Wasn’t there any other way? Couldn’t he just go look for the little lass himself? Then again… Peck it. He was already out here following them, and there was always the possibility that he could get lost all by himself. Besides, he wasn’t doing this for the bum’s sake.

He was doing it for the lassie, he had to make sure she was safe.

“Ah wish DJ Peck Neck would’ve helped us.” Conductor complained, it was all he could think to do to ease the tension. “‘Ah need mah beauty sleep’ he said! What a load of rubbish! I’ll tell him where to shove his ‘beauty sleep’ once we-”

Conductor’s ranting was interrupted as Snatcher stopped in his tracks. The two bumped into him, but he still stood upright. He shushed them, holding up and hand and staying silent.

“Do you hear that?” he asked them in a whisper.

“Hear what?” Conductor said in his regular tone of voice. Both CC and Snatcher were quick to shush him.

“Be quiet and listen!” Snatcher fussed. Conductor glared at him before cuffing his ears to listen better for the noise. CC did the same, and they all joined in to listen…

What they heard was very disturbing. It sounded like little growling noises from an animal. Yet, they almost sounded human-like if you listened close enough. There were also crunching noises that were accompanied with wet chewing and tearing. The growling would stop for a few moments and a small gulping noise could be heard. They were sickly noises that sounded like something was eating. Or, more specifically, feeding.

They all looked at each other, chilled to the bone. Snatcher tried to compose himself as best he could, trying not to shake or shiver in fear. He tried thinking of a reasonable explanation to what he was hearing. Perhaps it wasn’t the kid? Maybe there were just hungry wolves in the area? No wait, bad thought. If there were wolves in the area where the kid ran into, that wouldn’t be a good sign. That means a pack of wolves could’ve found her, chased her down, and eaten her... Oh heavens, why would he even think of that?! That was a terrible thought!

While Snatcher was panicking in his own mind, so was CC. She was more concerned for the child then she had ever been before. Hoping that what she was hearing was just a trick if the imagination. It was probably some other creature, right? Like a squirrel or a rabbit maybe. Then again, those animals didn’t growl as much. But it was probably nothing! Hat Kid was just...a sleepwalker! Yes, just a sleepwalker! They’ll just find the little girl sleeping in a bush, take her back home, tuck her back into her little bed, and pretend like this all didn’t happen! After all, she had to be safe right? Right?

Conductor’s dreads were also starting to settle in more. He could tell that the growling sounded animal, but was it actually human. He broke out in a cold sweat, he recognized that growling. It was exactly was a newly turned wereowl would sound like during a full moon. But strangely enough, there wasn’t a full moon out tonight. And the lassie hadn’t been sprouting feathers the last time he checked, just scratching. So he had nothing to worry about, right? Hat Kid was perfectly fine and not turning into a tiny, little wereowlet. Because he hadn’t bitten her...or had he?

Snatcher set the group back in motion by plucking up the courage to go further. CC noticed this and quickly joined him. Conductor was the last one, taking a huge gulp before moving on in shaky steps. The terrible noises became louder. Snatcher was breathing rapidly, carefully moving through the brush so as not to disturb whoever was making the noises. Conductor was visibly quaking as they kept on going. But CC seemed to be the only one acting calm. At least, she was on the outside. But in the inside? Her motherly instincts were going crazy. They all now heard the noises from behind a few trees, as if they were right in front of it.

They froze as heard a voice. A voice that sounded like a child’s, but filled with growls and a soft yet creepy tone.

“Mmm...yummy, yummy...”

They all perked up at the child’s voice. CC was the most alert to it, her eyes wider than the two men combined. “Sweetheart? Is that you?” she called out softly, still whispering meekly. The chewing noises continued anyways, as if the person eating hadn’t heard her. Before Snatcher could stop her, she was already pushing past him to get through. She went up towards the patch of trees and tried to look past them. “Sweetie, are you okay?” she said, a little more frantic this time. “It’s okay, I’m h-”

She stopped as she caught sight of something. She stood there, stiff as a board. Snatcher and Conductor looked at each other, puzzled as to why she was so quiet. They both moved closer to her.

“Uh, CC? You doing okay?” Snatcher asked, making to tap her on the shoulder.

“Lass, what’s wrong?” Conductor joined in, reaching out to her.

CC started falling to the ground. Snatcher jumped back as CC fainted in Conductor’s general direction. Conductor managed to catch her by pure reflex, hoisting up her limp body. She was very much unconscious, but still breathing slowly. He looked back at Snatcher with a worried and confused face, still holding her in his arms. Snatcher just stared at her, his hopes were beginning to crumble into dust. All he knew was that this wasn’t a good sign.

“Just...set her down somewhere. She’ll be fine, we can get her later.” Snatcher whispered, instructing Conductor. Conductor hesitated before carefully lowering CC onto the ground. He move her arms and legs a bit, making sure she would be comfortable. As he did that, Snatcher was already going ahead of him. He hid behind some of the trees, moving around but not wanting to been seen. Conductor looked up and quickly left CC laying there to join him. But he didn’t hide like Snatcher. Instead, he simply walked on forward. They moved closer and closer to the sounds-

Until they finally caught a glimpse of the hatted child.

She was sitting on the ground, dressed in her little frilly nightgown. Only the nightgown was smeared with grass, dirt, and blood stains. To their horror, they could see exactly why. She was holding some sort of small creature in both her hands, tearing it apart with her teeth. And her teeth...they were pointed and clearly not human. Her chin was dripping with blood as she dung into her meal rather greedily. They both saw this, watching in terror and disgust as she gobbled up the fresh pieces of animal flesh.

Snatcher could not recall a time where he was more terrified. Watching the kid munching away with her teeth. Her sharp teeth. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of them. It recalled terrible memories for him. His past life spent with her. Him slowly be turned by her, an agonizing process of which he could never forget. His first time feeding, getting a taste of blood for the first time. And then, the village killings. The one memory he wished he could forget, but couldn’t. She reminded him too much of those memories. The pain, the hunger, the mindless urge to just feed. He scratched his claws against the bark of the tree, tears in his eyes. Please! he thought. Anything but this!

While Snatcher was fixated on the child’s inhuman teeth, Conductor was just as scared if not more. His blood went cold as he saw something that Snatcher was too scared to notice. All around the where Hat Kid was sitting, scattered here and there, were feathers. Little. Yellow. Feathers. On the ground, stuck to her clothes, even some on her face. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. But he couldn’t stop the himself from crying fearful tears. It’s true isn’t it? he thought in despair. He had bitten the little one. He had infected her. He couldn’t remember when it happened, but he must have. Now she was cursed to live a light under the full moon. A vicious little beast that fed off of tiny woodland creatures like snacks. And it’s all my fault...

Hat Kid was alerted to the sound of their sobbing. She quickly looked up at the two, grabbing their attention.

They both gasped at the same time. She didn’t look at all like herself. Her skin was orange-red and scaly, gleaming under the moonlight. Her eyes, like cat or snake eyes, bright yellow with a slit in the middle. And was that a tail? Yes, they saw a long pointy-tipped tail poking out from beneath her gown. They both got a full glimpse of what she had been eating, now that her face was out of the way. The small body of a dead bird was in her hands, nothing but a feathery and bloody pile. She was an absolute mess, her clothes ruined and her face bloodied. And she was, without a doubt, not human.

But she wasn’t a vampire or a wereowl. And that made all the difference.

“KID!” Snatcher yelled in surprise, letting go of the tree he was clinging onto and running over to her.

“LASSIE!” Conductor followed him, stumbling and nearly falling.

Hat Kid didn’t get a change to escape as the two men picked her up off the ground. They hugged and squeezed her together, as if she had been gone for an entire week. They didn’t care that they were visibly crying next to each other. And they didn’t care that the blood the kid was covered in was getting on their clothes. They just cared that she was safe! And more importantly, not infected by either of them. They kept hugging and cuddling her, not wanting to let go.

But they both lifted their heads once they heard her beginning to cry.

“Hey kid, what’s wrong?” Snatcher asked as she sniffled and sobbed, tears rolling down her scaly cheeks.

“Lassie, are ye alright?” Conductor asked, just as worried. Hat Kid managed to open her watery eyes to look up at them, a sad look on her face.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” she wept. They look at her in shock.

“Mad at you? Why on earth would we be mad at you?” Snatcher replied, laughing nervously in relief.

“Lassie, Ah’m the happiest man alive right now. And you better believe it!” Conductor said, playfully ‘booping’ Hat Kid on the nose. She giggled weakly before going back to frowning.

“Why didn’t ye tell us about this?” Conductor asked.

“And what are you anyways?” Snatcher added. Conductor glared at him. “What? Just asking.” he shrugged, ignoring the glare. Hat Kid looked down in shame, keeping quiet for a few minutes.

“I’m...an imp.” she finally managed to say. She took off her hat, revealing two little red horns on the top of her head. Snatcher and Conductor were fascinated by them. How had they not seen those before?

“Oh...” Snatcher blurted out, not knowing what else to say. He’d never really heard of an imp before, or even seen one. And neither had Conductor, who was staring at the horns rather bemusedly.

“I’m really sorry!” Hat Kid apologized out of the blue. “I used magic to make myself look human so you wouldn’t find out.” she explained, holding on tightly to her hat.

“Why?” Snatcher asked, tilting his head in question. Hat Kid’s eyes started to well with tears again.

“I didn’t want to scare anybody...” she muttered softly. “Nobody likes imps. I don’t know why, but everyone who’s seen my true form hates what I look like.” she sniffed, leaning into Snatcher’s chest. She started to full on sob. “And...t-they said I was a...m-monster! And...and a d-demon and I...I-” she tried to speak through her sobbing. “I’m so, so soooooorry!” she wailed, hugging Snatcher tightly. Both Snatcher and Conductor’s hearts felt like they were going to break from sadness. How could people say such things to such a little girl? Sure, she definitely wasn’t human. But she was the most kind, caring, and sweet kid they had ever meet!

“Shhhhh, hey now. It’s okay, it’s okay. Everything’s fine.” Snatcher spoke softly, cradling her like a baby. Conductor also helped to calm her by rubbing her back.

“It’s okay that yer a monster. Ye know that we love ye anyways, right lassie?” Conductor said, stroking her on the head. Hat Kid looked up at him, a glitter of hope in her eyes.

“R-really?” she asked.

“Kid, seriously? You live with a witch, a zombie, a vampire, a werewolf, and a wereowl all under the same roof. I’m pretty sure we’re okay with you not being human.” Snatcher said sarcastically, making her giggle happily.

“Bum’s got a point. I’ll have to agree with him fer once.” Conductor joked, resting a hand on Snatcher’s shoulder. “Ah don’t think we could trade ye fer anything in the world.” he smiled back at her. They couldn’t really tell, but Hat Kid was blushing from underneath her scales.

“Come on! It’s past your bedtime, young lady.” Snatcher grinned, picking up the kid and sitting her on his shoulders.

“Oi! How come ye get to carry her?” Conductor huffed.

“Oh? You’re telling me you don’t want to carry CC home?” Snatcher jested. Conductor’s face went red as he lowered his hat over his eyes.

“Shut up, peckneck.” he sputtered, heading off to get CC anyways.

“Language!” Snatcher shouted as he followed him, the kid resting on his shoulders. Once he saw Conductor with CC in his arms, they headed back towards to house.

“Y’know…you could have told us sooner. At least a warning would’ve been nice.” Snatcher told Hat Kid, sighing tiredly. He saw the kid sticking her tongue out at him, it was black and forked like a snake’s tongue. He snorted, she was just too adorable for her own good. Even in monster form!

“C’mon, kiddo. Let’s get you cleaned up before CC has a heart attack.” he said. He then realized something. “Wait a minute...” he paused. “You were the one who buried those dirty clothes in the garden, weren’t you?” he told Hat Kid. She rubbed the back of her head, looking extremely guilty. “Oh wow, hiding the evidence to frame someone? You’re more of a little troublemaker than I thought!” he grinned mischievously.

“Ohoho! The pup sure isn’t forgiving ye fer that one, lassie!” Conductor called back, joining in the fun. Hat Kid then huffed and crossed her arms.

“I was hungry okay?!” she yelling, irritated and making a pouty face. Conductor and Snatcher stared at each other for a few minutes. Snatcher started cackling and Conductor howled with laughter.

“What? What’s so funny?” she asked them, but they weren’t listening.

“Oh kid...you’re a riot.” Snatcher said, snickering a little. Conductor was too busy giggling to have a witty reply, so he just kept on walking. Hat Kid didn’t quite get the joke, but she smiled anyways. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you home.” Snatcher said, bouncing her on his shoulders. Hat Kid laughed, yawned loudly, and rested her head on top of his soft hair. Home… she thought happily as she started to fall asleep.

She was really starting to feel more at home that she ever had before.

[smartmouthscientist]

T.R.A.I.N.

In my Psychology 101 class, we were assigned to bring an item that reminds us of our childhoods. Meeting time came and I had nothing to show, but fortunately, my seatmate had brought a book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, the UK edition with the cover showing Harry and the Hogwarts Express. In an inspired fit, I thickened my face and asked to borrow her book right after she finished as it was my turn next. Having made the prior confession to the class bashfully, by way of introduction, that since I live in Bicol and stayed in a dormitory, I couldn’t afford to lug around stuff purely out of sentimental value, I then began to talk about the train on the cover. (I hoped the class would appreciate the joke and my clutch whimsy, as I’m really proud of pulling that one off.)

I told them that a train set was the first toy I ever loved. As birthdays and holidays rolled around, I would invariably ask for another train set on my wish list. In my grandparents’ house, nestled among the encyclopedia volume collection, was a book dedicated to mass transport, and the section on trains was the one I pored over most. I marveled at the sheer length of the trains in the pictures and daydreamed of riding the Japanese bullet train. To wrap up, I rather wistfully said to the class that now I couldn’t help riding the MRT and LRTs without a tinge of nostalgia, lamenting the state of mass transport in Metro Manila and the collision of reality into boyhood fantasies.

However, I had neglected to narrate to them the most meaningful detail, and this I still very much regret and now seek to assuage somewhat by writing it down. That same grandparents’ house was my father’s family home—along the riles. When we were packed off there for the weekend, one of my favorite parts was hearing the authoritative blast of the horn pierce the air, and the staccato rumbling on the tracks growing nearer and nearer. My sisters and I would rush out, and with almost deep reverence, carefully keeping our distance, watch the length of that great steel beast lumber along. I knew even then that these trains were Japanese hand-me-downs, of post–World War II to pre–Martial Law provenance, but their patina of reliability was undiminished.

The Bicol Express was also my maternal grandparents’ favored mode of transportation, whenever we would venture out into Metro Manila. How pleasing it was, to sit there on the train knowing the risk of a traffic accident had been minimized, knowing we could not but get to our destination, counting down the hours, counting on the train to get us there like clockwork. Standing in the city streets, the LRT’s flickering window lights was as glamorous to me as the flash of high-rises and neon.

The last long-distance train trip I took was in December 2011. Mama took us kids on a Christmas vacation to Manila, while Papa opted to stay behind. On the trip back home to Bicol, our train stopped dead in its tracks. We could hear the conductors shouting instructions to each other, all the while conversing about how the man must have been stone-cold drunk to be lying on the tracks like that. They said he had lost his head, sliced off cleanly on the rail. Though delayed, we got home safely. Papa was just as happy to see us back as we were to see him again. He had missed us, though he wouldn’t say it; he had not joined us out of a tantrum, because he and Mama had fought before we left.

Less than two months later, on 9 January 2012, Papa decided against taking his motorcycle to work on account of the rain and because he knew that he would be drinking at a friend’s birthday party. Papa was a cheap date, and when he was positively tipsy, his police officer friend insisted on hitching him to the back of the police officer’s motorcycle to take him home from the provincial capitol, where Papa worked as a sheriff for the regional trial court. Even when he had imbibed, Papa was always a careful driver: sometimes he would pull over at a waiting shed or under a tree on the side of the road to doze off the hangover. But on that day, Papa was the back-rider who got thrown off the motorcycle and ran over by a bus in a freak accident on the national highway, only two hundred meters away from our house. The regional trial court recently dismissed our civil claim for damages against the bus company and the motion for reconsideration, more than seven years to the day. In the course of that protracted litigation, the bus driver was debilitated by a stroke and has had to stop working.

We still get shipped off to Mama Lola’s railroad-side house occasionally, but the trains no longer pass by regularly. The trains finally showed their age and could no longer take care not to derail on the equally rusted tracks. The renovation and modernization of the train lines proceed in fits and starts; the train we rode in 2011 was the first time the Bicol Express had reopened in years, before they suspended commuter trips again. The daily agony of commuters on the MRT and LRT is well-documented, but not any less rueful for it. The months in which the MRT doesn’t suffer a breakdown at all on any given day are far and few between, and closely remarked upon and tallied by the media. Just last month, the LRT2—my favorite line for being the most capacious, underriden, and newest of the three—had an electrical mishap which crippled the Katipunan station, to exasperation from me and other university students that it services, and the two stations sandwiching it. The estimated time for repairs was initially a frustrating nine months, whittled down to an impatient three. Rodrigo Duterte’s ambitious “Build, Build, Build” infrastructure project is secured by Chinese capital—which also fuels China’s massive infrastructure expansion in the disputed West Philippine Sea—and ultimately premised on the Omelasian death of thousands in the drug war, the election promise which catapulted Duterte into the presidency.

The old canard about Benito Mussolini’s fascist Italy was that he made the trains run on time. How much worse can a life under Philippine fascism be when the trains no longer run at all?

[hurt-care]

Escape to Her

Please enjoy a bit of historical hay-fever smut set in the late 1800s and inspired by this scenario by @finnpeach. 18+

The train rumbled into the station and Francis Miller stepped back at the approach, clutching a cream-coloured silk handkerchief over his nose and mouth. The engine puffed a large plume of grey smoke and dust rose from the rails as the cars passed over the tracks. The scarlet engine finally came to rest with a sound like a deep exhale and the plumes drifted lazily from the smoke stack as the train idled, waiting for the passengers to board.

Francis, still holding the handkerchief to his face, nodded to a nearby railway worker who came to load his large travelling case into the luggage car.

“Car number, sir?” the porter asked.

“First Class, three,” Francis said from behind his cloth shield. “Pardon, the smoke bothers my lungs.”

“Not a problem, sir. I'll see it loaded,” the porter said, tagging the trunk and handing over a small receipt. “You can claim it at the platform in Plymouth.”

Francis picked up his small attachéand headed towards the First Class carriages. He entered and found himself an empty table of seats in the rear of the third car, settling down and tucking his bag at his feet.

The train was always a dreaded method of travel for Francis. Prone to the relatively modern affliction of hay-fever, he found it necessary to head to the seaside for his health annually. However, the trip always aggravated his already-delicate respiratory system with the combination of dust and smoke and the journey through the countryside.

In spite of his reddened eyes and swollen nose, he was a good looking young man with dark brown eyes, tanned skin, and a head of thick black hair. Though it was of the current fashion to wear a moustache, he found it intolerable during the height of his affliction and so instead opted for a clean-shaven face.

The seaside escape to which he was headed belonged to family friends. Though he'd enjoyed his stays in Plymouth in the past, this particular visit was of greater note because one Miss Caroline Willison would also be in residence. He'd courted Miss Willison in the past and they'd known each other since childhood. She'd been away at finishing school during his last stay at the Willison's seaside estate. As of late, they'd been exchanging letters that bordered on improper, full of anticipation for their reunion. Now, as he sat alone in the train car with his nose and mouth still covered and his lungs straining for breath, Francis allowed his thoughts to drift to his remembered image of her countenance. She was a fair, button-nosed girl with a round face and a head of bright auburn hair that spilled down her back in waves. He remembered her as they'd last met at a ball in London where she'd been dressed in an ivory silk gown with blue ribbons, her pale bosom looking smooth as milk above the curve of her bodice.

Francis closed his eyes, squinting them tightly against the gritty irritation that itched madly and made the whites of his eyes turn pink. He sniffled thickly behind his handkerchief, trying to keep his thoughts to that picture of her...how she'd looked crossing the room with her hair pilled atop her head in braids...

It was no use. Not the most beautiful woman in the world could defeat the insistent, brutal itch of his annual affliction. His nose burned, overwhelmed and swollen in spite of his best efforts to shield it. He took a shallow inhale and felt his breath hitch in anticipation. He squeezed the handkerchief tightly around his nose, knowing the inevitable was near.

Ngh-GHTT!

He bent forward on the train bench, sneezing with a wrenching, itchy explosion.

Hehh-tshGHHT!

“Bless you, sir,” a voice said from the other end of the compartment. Francis looked up through watery eyes to see a conductor passing into the car from the connecting one.

“Thank—ehhGSHHHT!”

He couldn't get the entire word out before he was bending away, sneezing again.

“Apologies,” he said after a moment of recovery, wiping the thin stream of catarrh from his nose as discretely as possible.

“Are you quite well enough for travel?” the conductor asked, reaching his side.

“Yes,” Francis confirmed. “It's the air on the train. I'm an asthmatic. Happens every time I ride.”

“Ah,” the conductor said sympathetically. “Do let me know if I can do anything to make your journey more comfortable, Mister...?”

“Miller. Francis Miller.”

“Mr. Miller,” the conductor repeated. “Ticket please?”

Francis dug into his jacket pocket and retrieved his ticket, passing it over for review.

“All in good order,” the conductor said, checking it and passing it back. “Anything you need, Mr. Miller?”

“No, thank you,” Francis said, eager to be away from watchful eyes. He could feel his breath starting to hitch again as his nose twitched with an increasing itch once more.

The conductor passed into the next car and Francis was free to give his nose a much-needed blow before anyone else joined him in the carriage. He soaked half of the handkerchief and was just turning it over to a clean corner when the carriage door slid open and a small group entered the train.

Francis settled for wiping his nose instead and carefully folded the damp handkerchief and stowed it in a pocket of his bag, taking up a fresh one from his jacket pocket to have ready at hand.

The train whistle sounded loudly and a fresh puff of smoke and dust rose as the train prepared for departure. Francis held the fresh handkerchief to his face and sneezed with a desperate-sounding outburst.

Nghh-TCHHI!

Someone behind him offered blessings but Francis suspected those would soon be exhausted.

Eh-TSGHITT! Nhh-GXHHT!

He pinched his nose through the folds of his handkerchief, desperate to stop the sneezing.

Gh'XHT! G'GHT!

The stifled sneezes were quieter but did nothing to calm his nose's desperation to clear out all the offending air.

“Bless you,” someone again offered from behind him. Francis wiped his nose, ignoring the sting of sensitive skin there, and turned to look back.

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet, hoarse voice. “I'm afraid I have a touch of hay-asthma, so sneezing may be a frequent occurrence from me. I'll relieve you of the burden of blessing them all with my assurance that it is not catching.”

The small group murmured their sympathies and Francis turned away, sinking down in his seat. He took a shallow breath, feeling his lungs crackle and strain with a small wheeze. He coughed into his handkerchief as quietly as he was able and took another testing inhalation. The breath still struggled to fill his chest and he coughed again, louder and more harsh-sounding.

The train gathered speed as it left the city and began the journey through the countryside towards Plymouth. Francis closed his itchy eyes, trying to keep his breathing slow and measured.

By the time the train rolled into the station several hours later, Francis was through several handkerchiefs and an innumerable amount of sneezes. His eyes were swollen and pink, not to mention the state of his prominent nose that nearly glowed with irritation. As the train slowed to a stop, he rose with a clean handkerchief again held over his face and exited the train.

The platform was a flurry of smoke and dust and people. He pressed through the crowd, feeling his lungs straining and wheezing with each breath, and he found a bench on the far side of the station where he sat down and coughed into the cloth until he was sweaty and red in the face. Still wheezing and sputtering, he fished in his bag for a packet of medicinal cigarettes. Locating them, he lit one of the thorn-apple inhalers and raised it to his lips, taking a long draw and holding the smoke in his congested lungs for a short count of four.

He exhaled, coughing harshly but feeling the strain on his lungs lessen with each new inhalation of the smoke. Sometimes he wasn't sure they really did much to help, but at least it was better than sitting there struggling to breathe without trying anything at all.

“Mister Miller?”

Francis blinked and looked up to see the Willison family's valet, Evans, standing over him.

“Oh, hello,” Francis sputtered between coughs. “Sorry. I'm ready. Just need to fetch my luggage.”

Evans had retrieved him from the station for three summers now, so the man was quite used to the spectacle that was Francis' affliction. He smiled sympathetically and reached out to pick up Francis' attaché.

“Why don't you go and sit in the motor car and I'll fetch the luggage?” Evans offered. “Give me your slip.”

Francis dug in his pocket and retrieved the bit of luggage tag with his claim number on it.

“Thank you,” he said, snuffing out the cigarette with the heel of his shoe. “It's a black trunk and a brown case with a blue stripe.”

“Excellent, sir,” Evans said. “The motor is out front. Same as before.”

Francis stood from the bench and headed towards the car. As he began to walk, the train whistle sounded and the engine began to move, headed onward to the next destination. A great plume of smoke and dust rose into the air as the train exited the station. Francis coughed with a few irritated-sounding, wheezy hacks as he fumbled for his handkerchief.

Hurh-NSGHHH!

He grabbed it just in time to catch a painful, throaty sneeze.

Nghh-TSCHGHHHH!

The stumble towards the car was becoming a blind obstacle course as he struggled against the sneezing and his streaming eyes. Once safely in the back of the motor, he allowed himself several loud, indulgent nose blows and then sat back, closing his aching eyes.

A few moments later, Evans arrived with the luggage in tow and strapped it onto the back of the car. And then it was off to the Willison's cottage estate.

It was a blessed sight when the house came in to view along the sea cliffs. Francis exited the motorcar with his fourth handkerchief of the day clutched over his face and was greeted at the entrance way by the family butler, Mr. Harris.

“Welcome, sir,” he greeted Francis, bowing. Like Evans, he was familiar with Francis' hay-fever. “Your chambers are prepared for you and there's a pitcher of water on the table in your sitting room. Ring if you'd like a bath drawn. The family will dine at seven o'clock and you may join them if you feel well enough.”

Francis inclined his head with thanks and followed Mr. Harris through the house and up to his usual rooms. When he was once again alone, he gave his nose a hearty blow and then shed his jacket and shirt, peeling off the layers until he was sure all the garments coated with the dust of travel were off. A dressing gown waited in the wardrobe and he knew that Mr. Harris would come by soon with his trunk to unpack his own clothes into the cupboard.

There was a washbasin and towel waiting for him and he soaked a cloth, wiping the grit and snot off his face and dabbing it soothingly against his painful eyes.

Eh-TSGHH!

He sneezed unexpectedly, misting his own hand with the surprising outburst. The reflex was becoming exhausting and his abdomen ached from the repeated contractions of sneeze after sneeze. He dipped the washcloth back into the basin and rang it out again, folding it into a compress for his eyes. Then, he went into the adjacent bedchamber and climbed into the bed, draping the cold compress over his swollen eyes and propping himself up with a stack of pillows.

He fell asleep before he'd even realized it, awaking again to the sound of the dressing gong and the murmur of voices in the hall. There was a soft knock at his bedchamber door.

“Yes?” he said. His voice was a little hoarse and tired, but stronger than it had been. He took a testing sniff and was relieved to find his swollen sinuses clearer than before.

“Would you like to dress for dinner, sir?” Mr. Harris' voice asked.

“Yes, I think I will,” Francis confirmed, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I can manage, thank you. Just lay out my dinner jacket please, Mr. Harris.”

He spent a few more leisurely moments between the sheets, testing his nose with small twitches and wipes, confirming that his affliction had settled for the time being. He did not wish to make an embarrassment of himself on his first evening, even if they all knew of his suffering.

With his dinner clothes on, he tucked a handkerchief into his pocket just in case, and then went down to the parlour.

Mr. and Mrs. Willison were already there along with the neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Masters, and Mrs. Master's mother, Lady Greyson. And in the corner, looking radiant, stood Caroline. She smiled at him warmly and joined the crowd of well-wishers, catching up on the latest small-talk and passing around glasses of wine.

The dinner bell sounded and they all went through to the dining room. Francis sat down in his place opposite Caroline and found himself most distracted from the meal and conversation. She was looking just as pretty as he remembered her and had dressed in a dark green beaded gown and wore a gold pendant necklace that sat tantalizingly against her pale bosom. Her cheeks were flushed pink and freckled with the summer sunshine and she wore her brilliant ginger hair swept half-up and half-down, with curls cascading over her shoulders.

She seemed equally entranced with him, gently bumping her foot against his under the table and smiling coyly. By the time they'd finished dinner, he felt himself warm at the neck and he tugged at his bowtie, blushing as she stood and walked through to the library with him.

“I'm so glad you're here,” she said softly, taking his arm. “Walk with me?”

He flushed pinker and nodded.

“I'd be delighted. Will your family approve?”

“Mama?” Caroline said. “I'm going to take Francis on a walk to see the new wallpaper in the east wing.”

Her parents nodded and said their good nights to the young pair and Francis followed Caroline out into the main part of the house. They'd no sooner turned the corner into a nearby hallway than Francis felt a tug on his lapels and Caroline was standing face-to-face with him, smiling widely.

“You can kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

He didn't need to be told twice. He kissed her deeply, hands roving up into her curls. She pressed back, melting into his kiss.

And then, she pulled back and looked at him, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

“Not here,” she said. “I couldn't wait but we can't stay here. Come this way.”

She took his hand and they ran giggling towards the east wing. It was dark and unoccupied at the moment, waiting for the arrival of Caroline's cousins later in the summer. They turned another corner, down another hall, and then arrived at a series of doors.

“I suppose I should show you the new paper in case anyone asks,” she said, pushing one of the doors open and turning on the lamps. The large parlour was decorated with a lovely woodland scene print with decorative deer leaping through lush leaves.

“It's lovely,” Francis remarked. And then, feeling bold, he added, “Though you are much more lovely.”

Caroline grinned and blushed.

“Come on, then,” she said, shutting off the light. “Another room.”

She went out and led him into another room. This one was a bedroom that was clearly not in use, with large white sheets covering the bed and furniture. Caroline shut the door and they became a tangle of limbs against the wall, kissing and stroking and thrusting their bodies together, hungry for touch.

He fiddled with the back of her dress, finding the clasp and dropping the slinky layers of silk and beaded netting to the ground. She stepped out of the dress, corseted with black silk stockings below. He felt himself getting harder at the mere sight of her. Tugging off his dinner jacket, he tossed it aside and she helped him with his bowtie. Then it was up and off with his shirt and she placed her hands on the warm muscled surface of his chest. They kissed again, biting and teasing and laughing against each other's lips.

“Please,” she said, reaching for the laces of her corset. He tugged the knot loose and ran his hands up the lacing, pulling it undone. She pushed the garment down and stood topless in front of him. He lowered his head and kissed her breast as she moaned softly.

“Please,” she said again. They moved in a flurry of kisses and touch towards the bed. She flung herself back on top of the white sheet and pulled him down with her. He kissed her neck, smelling the floral scent that always lingered in her hair. And something else...his nose was prickling uncomfortably.

His breath hitched a little and he heard her moan in response. Fighting off the itch, he lowered his hand under undid the buttons of his fly, pushing his pants down and kicking them off. His breath hitched tentatively again, but she distracted him with a gentle touch. Now it was a gasp that came from his lips.

They were kissing again, writhing on the sheet as their bodies begged for more.

God damn it,he thought in the midst of the intense arousal, the words fighting through the blissful fog in his mind. His nose was proving a great distraction. As they rolled over together, he looked around the room at the white sheets and had the dreaded realization that this room was likely full of dust from having not been touched since last summer.

He could feel his sinuses begin to swell a little, already oversensitive from the day's journey.

Caroline was rocking insistently again him, eager for more. He straddled her and drew himself into her. She sat up, rising her hips to his in rhythm. His breath hitched again, desperately waffling between arousal and anticipation of a hay-fever paroxysm.

“I wanted you all year,” she panted into his ear. “Your letters had the most delicious effect on me.”

“And yours on me, darling,” he said, distracted. His nose was starting to leak and he took a soft sniffle. His breath hitched again and again once more.

“Yes,” Caroline moaned, her own breath catching much like his.

Francis fought the rising sensation of an impending sneeze with as much attention as he could muster from his overwhelmed body. His breath caught again and he tried to pull away, but Caroline had a grip around his waist. He did the only thing he could do: lean forward and try to sneeze away from her neck.

Ngh-GXT! GhXT! XhhXHT!!

He stifled three small sneezes against the cream skin of her neck and he felt her sigh softly.

“Poor love,” she said, unable to contain a moan in her voice as they still rose and fell together in rhythm. “Don't worry about it. Bless you.”

His breath hitched again and she once again took it as a sign of his arousal, resuming her exploration of his body. He tucked his angry nose against her neck and stifled again.

NhXHT! Gh'XHT!

She stopped and drew his head back, looking at him in the darkened room.

“Are you still unwell from your journey?” she asked.

“No, not my journey,” he said. “It's this room, I'm afraid. The dust.”

He couldn't help it now. His nose was burning and he turned to bury it into his elbow.

Hrshh-SGHHT!

Caroline looked horrified.

“Oh, love, I didn't even think of the dust!”

Hehh-ehhh'tshGHTHH!

Francis' eyes were beginning to stream and so was his nose. Flushed with embarrassment, he tried to reach for his trousers.

“Handkerchief?” Caroline asked. “Let me.”

She rolled out from under him and leaned over to get it from his pocket. Gently, she reached out and dabbed the tender nostrils. Francis' breath hitched wildly and he took the cloth from her grip, clamping it over his nose.

HrshTSCHHHH!

“Dearest,” she said sympathetically. “I'm so sorry. To think that you'd just managed to recover for the day.”

She sat up and stood to pull her dress up.

“We can sneak you back to your chambers. They'll all still be in the parlour.”

He wasn't sure how he'd manage to get dressed but she helped him through the task, all the while graciously ignoring his frequent sniffles and snorts of irritation.

With her corset and their shoes in hand, they crept out of the bedroom and towards the west end of the house where Francis' chambers were. They were just turning a corner towards the bedrooms when they heard footsteps.

“In here,” Caroline whispered, opening a door to reveal a storage cupboard. They squeezed inside, pressed tightly together in the tiny space, breathing heavily. As they waited in the dark, Francis had the sinking feeling that the closet was just as dusty as the bedroom had been. He held his handkerchief over his face, fighting the endless battle against his twitching nose and rebelling sinuses.

“And when you're done, turn down the girls' chambers,” Mr Harris' voice said outside, instructing a maid. Their footsteps passed and the hall quieted again.

Ehh-GGHCHhhT!

Francis snapped forward, sneezing forcefully. Caroline pushed open the cupboard door and guided him towards his room. When they reached it, they went inside and Francis sat down on the bed, collapsing into a wrenching fit.

Ehh-GSGHHT! Nh'GHST! CH'SGHHT! Ehh...hehh-tshGHST!

“Darling,” Caroline cooed, coming over with a washcloth and reaching out to wipe his face. “I'm so sorry. I didn't think about the dust.”

“It's okay,” he said shakily. “I'm sorry, I look a fright.”

“I wish I could stay but I don't want to be discovered coming out of your rooms,” she said, tucking a strand on his hair behind his ear and leaning in to kiss his temple.

“No, you're right,” he said. “They'll be wondering why we haven't come back. Go to your chambers and send for your maid to tell them we both felt tired and went up.”

She looked at him affectionately and kissed his cheek once more.

“We have the whole summer to find ourselves a better dust-free hiding spot,” she said, grinning.

He smiled back from behind his handkerchief.

[nam-nam-joon]

train pt.2

Pairing: jimin x reader

Genre: meet-cute

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings: falling asleep on public transit, nothing else

Summary: the day has been long and you're so very tired. staying awake proves extremely difficult, especially after a simply divine scent surrounds and lulls you in.

The doors of the train compartment closed with much squeaking and hissing before the vehicle rolled into motion.

It was all background, mixing with the noise of quiet conversations into something like static, just more human.

 The headphones plugged into your ears dulled every sound even though the music that had been playing from them not too long ago had died.

It was difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a few heartbeats. More often than not they drooped close, your head tipped forward and face half buried in the scarf wrapped around your neck. It was obsolete this far below the surface, where the harsh winter wind couldn’t touch you, but you were too tired to take it off. Besides, it was only... Only... Four stations until yours? Five? Six?

At the next stop cold air wafted into the train, making you shiver. You took a deep breath, hoping it’d clear your head a bit. Enough that you wouldn’t nod off fully, would be able to walk home, shove something into the microwave and then fall into bed. You’d really earned it, after today...

A pair of legs in smooth pants stopped next to your double seat, and without thinking about it you pulled your backpack and coat closer around you, an unmistakeable ‘okay’ to whoever had silently asked if it’d be okay to sit down.

The headache from not drinking enough water made itself noticeable again when the doors beeped loudly, amplified the sound and knocking it against your temples. With two fingers on each side you tried to gently massage the pain away, hoping for relief.

The pounding eased down after you’d popped your ears while yawning, but that only made it easier to remember how much your eyes were burning, your feet were hurting, your lips chapped-

With eyes closed you angled your head differently, to follow the scent that suddenly spread around you, that lulled you in.

It smelled inexplicably good.

Your thoughts, sluggish and dull, couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it smelled like, but behind your eyes summer fields of golden grain spread under a deep blue sky, framed by lush green woods that dripped with moisture. The gentle breeze around you carried the scent of fresh linens and a rich flower garden somewhere out of sight. A double path of dirt spread under your bare feet, leading into the fields.

A soft sigh escaped your nose, along with a tiny whine.

The traincarriage jostled from side to side and almost broke the illusion.

Not wanting it to end, your nose sook out closer proximity to the origin of the comforting scent.

Your fingers, wound tight to keep your sweater wrapped over your hands, loosened up and you drifted off into a slumber before you knew it.

  “-hearts are gotta get up now, terminal station. Train’ll go outa service, too, so better collect ya things.”

“Oh we’re not-“

“Just get movin’ alright.”

Words drifted to your ears. There was a warmth spread throughout your body like you hadn’t felt it in months, and part of you was unwilling to let it go.

The other, curious part, however, wanted to know what the voices, one rough and deep, one soft and clear, were going on about.

Opening your eyes felt like falling through a cloud and being abruptly put down on the ground again.

The pillow your cheek had rested on suddenly moved, gave out from underneath you and forced you to fully awake instantly. You sat up, more because it was a first instinct after being roused.

A gentle, warm hand touched the cheek that hadn’t been mushed into the clothed surface you’d been resting on before as you blinked to clear your vision.

“Hey, are you awake?”

 Your brain needed a moment to connect the empty seats and the droning silence surrounding you, the cold air slowly flooding the carriage, the previous words of the deeper voice.

“Wha-?”

You put weight on your right hand to fully disconnect yourself from the wool coat you’d been resting on, but only after not feeling it and staring at the jeans clad leg that was pressed against yours did you realize you weren’t supporting yourself on your own leg.

The rough voice rang out again, surprisingly loud-

“Ya, lovebirds! I don’t have all night, hurry u’ won’t ya?”

Out of reflex your fingers tightened as your head ducked down to avoid the full blow of the words to your sensitive ears. When had you lost your headphones?

“Come on.” The soft voice spoke again. “Can you walk?”

The scent surrounded you, safe, warm, and his voice was so pleasant to listen to he could’ve made the most boring texts sound fascinating.

Your bleary eyes managed to focus on the face belonging to the leg, the body that you had so rudely slept on just now – on the eyes almost round in worry and anticipation, yet it took a moment longer until the melodious words formed a sentence in your head.

“I’m? Oh no, sorry, I’m so sorry, I-“ As if burned, you ripped away your hand from its questionably high position on the other’s thigh, and you nearly tripped over yourself trying to get up and out of the train.

The honeyblond guy followed you out into the cold, where you shook your head to finally clear the last wisps of sleep and exhaustion.

You turned to look back, lips pressed into a single line in fear at the reaction you’d involuntarily get.

“Hey, listen, I am- extremely sorry, I don’t know why I- jeez, I must’ve been more tired than I thought, I, I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t mea- I didn’t mean to sleep /on/ you I-“

The other lifted his hands and slightly bend forward, momentarily halting the flow of words springing forth from your mouth.

“Please don’t- No need to apologize this much, it’s okay. It’s okay, really, I...” He laughed nervously. “I fell asleep as well. –completely didn’t notice- I, your scent really calmed me down, I’m sorry-“

 “You? No nono, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have- Oh jeez.” The hand that had been decidedly too high on his leg not even five minutes ago burned with heat. The uncomfortable feeling spread throughout your whole body, until you could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. You clutched the treacherous appendex by the wrist in your other hand, cradling it to your chest, staring up into the soft dark eyes that held no inkling of malice.

“Aw man, please don’t think I’d be- I usually have myself in check, I swear, I don’t go around sleeping on every guy I come across, I s-“

His hand gently caught hold of your shoulder and he bend his head down to meet your gaze.

“It’s okay, I promise. Noone got hurt, we’re okay. Okay?”

You weren’t, not in the slightest, but you swallowed the next wave of apologies and nodded. Instead of dwelling on the little ‘we’ that had just slipped into his sentence, you cleared your throat and straightened up.

“I’m _______, and I’d like to formally apologize for abusing you as a pillow.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, gnawing on your bottom lip with worry.

His face lit up as he smiled, puffy eyes bending to fit his radiant grin and his attempt at hiding it useless.

“I’m Jimin, and I’d like to formally apologize for using your head as a pillow, too.”

For one moment longer you both looked at each other expectantly. Then Jimin couldn’t hold back any longer, his hands shooting to his face to hide his laughter that mixed with yours and bounced off the walls in the empty station.

To avoid another comment from the grumpy conductor that still prowled along the platform edge, you tugged on Jimin’s sleeve and approached the escalators that headed upstairs.

The wind swept through the station, howling around the corners outside, and after your hair had settled against your scalp again you were able to pick up on the strong scent of warm grass and summer air that clung to it. Running your hand through the strands you half-heartedly tried to comb it out as best as possible, but only managed to work it deeper into the lengths.

Jimin’s eyes nervously flickered over, watching your movement.

“I guess if you shower, it’ll probably- It’ll probably wash out.”

“I guess.” Your own gaze fled the area where his left hand rubbed over the leg of his pants, across the spot your wrist had been resting against. “How thick are those pants?”

If they were too thin – and you feared the chance they might be – your own scent could have leaked through, into the scent gland located there. Accidentally scent-marking a stranger – a very pretty stranger, at that – on the subway, and in such an intimate place, was around the bottom of your to-do-list; especially as you couldn’t know if he had a significant other who would most likely take offense at such a blatant disregard for personal space and societal boundaries.

You could already picture getting thrown out of bed at an ungodly hour tomorrow, just to open the door in PJs and find a fuming Alpha or Beta or Omega on your doorstep, out for your blood.

“Don’t worry about my pants. I’d be lucky to have someone sc-“

You looked back at him in time to see his eyebrows twitch as he cut himself off, coughing a couple of times to play over the suddenly wistful expression on his face.

You continued to look at him until eventually his eyes circled back to meet yours. After he broke the contact, he dropped his head.

“I’m a mess.” He mumbled, running a hand over his forehead and then through his hair, before huffing out a laugh. Then he looked at you again, directly. “Don’t worry about scent-marking me. It’s the least of my concerns right now, especially considering you-“

He broke off again and licked over his lips once. “I acknowledge how weird this might sound, as we really don’t know each other, but you- You smell really good. I haven’t been this relaxed in weeks.”

You shied away from the compliment, burying your face behind your scarf instead.

“It can’t be that relaxing...”

“Are you kidding me? I fell asleep in a subway full of people, if that’s not a statement to just how calming you can-...” He trailed off after you looked up and revealed the crooked grin on your face.

“Incredible. Making me defend myself just to- You enjoy to see other people suffer, don’t you. If you’d told me I was a weirdo to my face, that’d have been less painful!” He began to whine through a grin of his own. You laughed.

“Ah well. Can’t argue with that.” You briefly grinned at the floor before the smile dropped off your face  and you turned serious again. “No, but really, I get you. You- I’ve sat next to people who definitely smelled less pleasant than you.”

The small confession seemed to calm Jimin’s nerves to some extent. He shoved his hand into his pockets, watching you for a moment.

You both arrived at the ticket gates and he beckoned you to pass through before him.

After he’d caught up with you, you slowed to a stop.

“Jimin...” Not really knowing where to go on from here on out, you looked up at the other.

The golden shine from the streetlights outside made his dark eyes twinkle, and a small smile spread on his lips in response to hearing his name called. “Thanks for not taking offense.”

He glanced down on his trainers. “Thanks for not freaking out and screaming my ear off after waking up with my scent all over you.”

Another moment in which you both simply looked at the other. His posture was open and relaxed, almost inviting. His winter coat was unbuttoned at the front to accommodate the higher temperatures in the trains, allowing a glimpse of the soft, fluffy wool pullover underneath. You could smell the faintest trace of yourself on him and with the shy smile on his face, everything prompted you to hug your arms around him, hold him close. Stay together.

The corresponding limbs twitched at the thought, but you held back.

“Well, I guess this is good night, then.”

His voice had dipped down, was now slow and careful.

You nodded in agreement, already feeling the creeping sadness at having to bid farewell and likely never seeing him again.

“Yeah, I guess. Good night, then, Jimin.”

 The wind slipped  through the crack opening in the door as you pushed it outwards, sending a thankful glance over your shoulder as Jimin’s hand prevented the metal frame to fall back and hit your face as the pressure from outside increased.

He’d been right behind you, and only your backpack, slung over your shoulders, acted as a barrier to keep him at distance.

 Your feet automatically found their way on the path that would lead you home. Before your thoughts could take a nose dive into the bottomless pit that had opened somewhere inside you though, you heard footsteps rapidly approaching and then a tug on your sleeve.

Jimin stood before you, breathing elevated and undoubtly just having jogged the short distance that had formed between you and the entrance of the station.

“Would- Would you be okay with meeting up sometime? Maybe... maybe go somewhere, have a coffee – get to know each other? Properly?”

A drop of warmth fell through your middle into the pit of your stomach, and it formed a wide smile on your face.

“I’d love to. Hold on.”

You slipped the strap of your backpack off your shoulder and rummaged around its depths before procuring a sharpie.

Jimin’s fingers curled around yours, holding his palm steady, as you wrote your number on the back of his hand. Then you twisted around to drop the pen back into your bag. Only when you turned to face him again did you notice he still carefully held on to the hand you had used to stabilize his. The words to tell him he’d have to let go got stuck not even half way out of your throat.

His gaze was trained on where skin touched skin, was solely focused on the way he gently clasped his other hand over yours, together turned them over so the inside of your palm faced up.

The beauty of his face, the spare light dipping his features into mysterious shadows and only highlighting along his brows, nose, lips and chin was absolutely mesmerizing to observe. His fingertips, warm, almost hot, inched closer to your wrist, ran over the lines creasing your skin until his pointer finger gently slipped into your sleeve, over the soft skin and its invisible scent glands there.

His advance allowed cold air to touch the sensitive area, and at the feeling you sucked in air through your teeth, momentarily breaking Jimin’s concentration, making him glance up and freeze in his action.

“I’m sor-“

“No, no, It’s-“

What were you doing?

Nervosity crept up your legs as he looked at you. For a heartbeat longer it seemed like he wanted to say something; thought different of it and carefully let go of your hand.

“I’m, sorry, I shouldn’t- ask you to.” He swallowed and blinked down on you, eyes heavy and voice thick with something you couldn’t recognize. Hurt?

“I don’t know you. ...You don’t know me. Do you think it’d be wise to-“

“Probably not.” His whisper held no hesitation. He locked eyes with you, tongue wetting his lips once more. “But... Just once won’t hurt, right?”

Had he been talking quietly before was it now almost impossible to hear him, so small had his whisper grown. You thought you could see your own impulse, the same deeply rooted wish, reflected in his eyes as they left your face for your neck, your wrists.

Your mouth had gone dry in anticipation, yet he didn’t make another move.

With eyes still focused on his expression you stretched out your hand. He shifted his weight and parted his lips, and you fished the tumbled words out of your otherwise clear head, now that you had come to a decision.

“Give me your wrist.”

His nose twitched and he visibly swallowed at the possessive ring in your whisper.

At the reaction you were quick to backpedal.

“I, I mean. May I have your wrist. Please?”

His eyes wouldn’t leave yours, but the contact wasn’t staring. It was more like he was holding on lovingly, if the smile on his face was any indication.

“Yes.” He mumbled and lifted his arm, pulled the sleeve of both his pullover and coat back, exposing the gland. A fresh wave of scent reached your nose, causing you to take a deep breath.

It didn’t take much, with the way Jimin’s fingers had already stirred up the sensitive skin, for your own to collect some of the pheromones and then gently rubbing them into the exposed spot on his arm.

He pressed his other hand to his mouth but wasn’t fast enough to suppress the beginning of a soft, pining whine that was half sound and half sigh.

You’d thought he’d pull back, get shy and hide, but he stayed, his breathing levelling out.

“You wanna mark me, too?”

At your calm suggestion his eyes jumped up from where he cradled his wrist to his chest. “Would you like me to?”

“This isn’t a one sided thing, you know.” I’m just better at hiding the effects you have on me, you added silently.

 He used his thumb to swipe over his own, untouched gland several times before pressing it to your pulse point. A small shudder ran over your back at the contact, anticipation amplifying the reaction of his scent mingling with yours.

 An hour ago you hadn’t even known of his existence, and yet here you were, feeling a tingle spread from your wrist through your arm. You weren’t sure why, or how, but in the small span of time between him sitting down next to you and now, the feeling of not knowing him vanished. It felt more like reconnecting with a friend from kindergarten – at some point you had been irreseperable, known everything about each other. And then you’d gone different ways, grew up without so much of a blink of each other. Leaving you unknown to the other, with the underlying sense of do knowing him.

In the back of your head you were aware of how late it was, how you should really get yourself home, and yet...

And yet Jimin’s presence wrapped you in and kept you close, a desire, a curious feeling in your midst wanting to know more, about him, about himself. Wanted to /know/, to see him, discover who he was as.

“Call me.” You mumbled, registering Jimin’s nod and the way he shakily breathed through his mouth.

 And then you stepped away from him, broke the spell you’d been under for the past minutes.

As you reached the other side of the road you didn’t dare look back.

Your feet carried you, hastily, over cement and asphalt, but when you turned your gaze inwards, you couldn’t find regret in yourself.

Now that he was out of sight you didn’t hesitate to shove your nose up your sleeve, to breathe in the way your fragrances mixed and mingled. It wasn’t quite as intoxicating as smelling him, his pure scent, but it was still enough to have your heart swelling in your chest.

For the moment all the “what if’s” were forgotten. You could’ve sung out the euphoria blooming in your chest for all to hear.

It had been a long time since someone had marked you last, longer since you had marked someone. The image on Jimin, teetering on the edge right before he had proposed the idea, and the sheer relief on his face as you had touched your finger to his wrist wouldn’t leave your mind.

 He had looked happy, too.

It couldn’t have been wrong.

 “Call me soon, Jimin.” You breathed into the night.

 A while later and a few miles away, Jimin curled up under his blanket with his nose pressed into his wrist, unbeknownst to him settling down in a very similar position as you.

The shivering that had clung to his shoulders the past nights, the fear of his recurring nightmares, got swept away by the comforting smell emanating from his skin.

“Tomorrow,” He sighed, relishing in the warmth that was radiating out of the area behind his naval since your head had come to rest on his shoulder. “Wait for me, _______.”

please consider leaving a comment or reblog if you liked what you read. ♥

[sunnybimbo]

for @bosstoaster!!!! merry christmasbirthdayday!!!!! <3 <3 

have some schmoopy shunk, On A Train

on AO3

Snowfall pitter-patters against the roofing. At first it sets a different rhythm to offset the sound of the train zooming along the tracks, but it’s all but disappeared as the first layer clings to the metal and adheres itself as ice. Shiro imagines that if they were anthropomorphic, each flake would be hooked to another like a chain of monkeys, sticking close lest one get left behind.

That, for some reason, makes him sad, and Shiro hesitantly reaches over to Hunk.

Hunk, who is shivering like a wet kitten in the middle of a frozen lake. He’s pointedly looking away from the windows, tapping his toes against the bunk of their shared bed. He completely misses Shiro’s palm passing by him, and only reacts when Shiro has wound their fingers together tight and kissed the back of his hand.

“Still nervous?”

“Probably will be until we get there.” Hunk says, weakly. “I can’t help thinking about what would happen if— if the brakes stopped working, or the track was broken ahead, or… I dunno. We tipped over because we packed too much luggage. I knew I shouldn’t have packed extra socks.”

Shiro calms minutely at Hunk’s worrying, as messed up as that sounds. He’s shut his eyes as he rambles on, and that only accents how pretty he looks in such a homey backdrop as this. The little room they’d been given was mostly a bed and a table, with a portion of the room squared off for a private toilet. The curtains had been switched out, Shiro can only assume, because they’re decorated in gingham plaid of the green and red variety, and embroidered with snowflakes and gingerbread men.

It’s a small detail that Hunk himself probably would have decorated their home with, if they’d decided to stay there for the holidays. Instead, they were traipsing across the country on what Hunk was currently dubbing ‘Hell’s bullet’ to celebrate with the rest of the team.

It wasn’t only a yearly event, of course. They all met up whenever they had holidays off, or vacation time saved. Those times, though, Hunk and Shiro traveled by plane. It was Hunk himself that mentioned train travel, for this current trip. They both were craving ‘new’, because planes get old around the fourth time you’ve been in one, and Shiro gladly jumped on the chance when they found two tickets for relatively cheap.

In the excitement, they both forgot how nervous Hunk’s constitution was.

“I can talk to the conductor.” Shiro says, completely serious. “See if they can make a stop to drop us off.”

“Wouldn’t that ruin the schedule?”

“Worth it.” Shiro waves his hand around dismissively. “Especially for Earth’s saviors, and all.”

Hunk snorts at that, and a smile works itself against his lips. It’s faintly nauseous, yes, but a smile nonetheless. “I’ll be okay. I just… need a minute to get settled, is all. Maybe see if I can look up the safety protocols.”

“Want me to find you a manual?”

“Shiro.” Hunk says— laughs, like he does when Shiro goes cross-eyed when they kiss in the mornings. “You go and explore, or something.”

Exploring would be fun. It was the first time on a train for them both, and Shiro would be lying if his legs weren’t itching to stretch and see what the fuss was about. Still, though, he had priorities. “And leave you alone?”

Hunk flops against the bed. It’s a stiff thing, but the sheets and blanket feel nice against the skin. Shiro lays flat to join him, turning onto his side to trace his fingers up Hunk’s wrist, past the shoved-up cuff of his jacket, and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be okay.” Hunk says, relaxing at the touch. He sinks into the bedspread, especially when Shiro tugs over a pillow for him to cuddle into. “Bring me back some hot chocolate?”

Which would not only give Shiro something to do, but give him time to calm his own nerves and see if he really wants them to abandon ship. Heaven knows they had the power to do so— thus was the power of stardom.

“Extra whipped cream and big marshmallows, yeah?”

“Mm, please.”

They kiss, Hunk embarrassedly shying away. He’d thrown up earlier, and though he’d brushed his teeth since then, he was always so worried about how his breath smelled. Shiro could honestly say that he’d tasted worse in his lifetime, but that would probably lead nowhere pleasant for either of them.

So he leaves it with a peck on the lips, and a longer smooch on the cheek before he pushes himself standing and leaves to find something fun to poke around in. He likes to think his new, nosy nature is from his husband, but it’s probably from the freedom that came with being both one Captain of the Atlas and free of his life-shortening curse. He tries not to think of that last thing often, now that it’s a non-factor.

But— yes. Hot chocolate and snooping.

Shiro squeezes himself down the thin hall, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. The cars were heated as much as they could be without getting stuffy, but he was still chilled at the core, and keeping his hands squeezed in fists helped until his palms could find their way around a nice, toasty mug.

The train was decorated in a similar way that the room was. Minimal and as non-theistic as possible. Out here it was snowmen and candy-canes that lined the curtains, and a few garlands that flickered gold and silver as the light shifted across the tinsel.

He nearly runs into someone standing up from a table, with how infatuated he is by it, and they both mumble polite excuses as they slide past. He ducks his head, embarrassed, and hurries down to the food cart.

xoxo

Shiro finishes his drink before he makes it back to Hunk. Even sports half a whipped-cream moustache that he’s in the process of licking off when he opens the door.

Hunk is huddled under a sheet on the floor, curled up near the bed. Sappy music plays from his tinny phone speakers, clipped under the sound of the train jetting itself to their destination. Shiro recognizes it easily as a song from their wedding.

He sets the untouched drink on the table, carefully in the center just in case, and lifts the sheet to peek at Hunk. “Guess who.”

“Santa!” Hunk grins, mouth half-curved up as it does when he gets really tickled but is holding in his laugh. “C’mere.”

Shiro obediently slides under to join him, squeezing himself in the empty corner between Hunk and the wall like a penguin waddling close to the pack for warmth. It’s a tight fit, and he ends up mostly in Hunk’s lap but neither of them minds the position.

The top of his head ends up poking out of the sheet, so Hunk tucks it around their shoulders instead. Outside, snowflakes crowd the edges of the windows until the entire world outside, fast-moving and blurred, looks like a faint fairytale gone softer than soft.

On the screen, shaky footage captures Hunk being twirled around the dancefloor, all nerves and smiles. He glances down at his feet more often than not, even though he knew all the steps by heart with how often he’d practiced. His hair is slicked back, a rare style, and he has a twinkle in his eye as he squeezes his palm against Shiro’s hip and pecks their lips together.

Shiro remembers exactly how Hunk’s hand had strayed lower, then, and given him a firm squeeze on the ass, but the video didn’t seem to be angled right to have caught it. He nudges Hunk anyway, who responds with a smug, pleased kiss to the curve of his jaw.

The video fades off to another, where they’ve shifted to a slower waltz-like sway, and Shiro relaxes further into Hunk’s soft warmth as they whisper sweet somethings to one another in the video. It’s gotten significantly smoother, there, as if the camera had been set on a tripod, or on a table, and Shiro is thankful for that if only because he gets to see so clearly how Hunk buries his face against Shiro’s neck when he says something too schmoopy, hugging him close.

“I didn’t realize you still had these on your phone.” Shiro hums, as Hunk turns the volume down when people start to talk over the music.

Hunk slides his phone onto the bed, under the pillow so it won’t get lost under the sheet, and returns his full attention to Shiro in the form of both arms circling his waist. “It calms me down.” He admits, quietly proud. “You made me feel safe, when we were dancing back then. Like even if I messed up and tripped all over myself, you wouldn’t let me fall down.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have. You didn’t have anything to worry about, anyway— you were better at it than me, once you got comfortable.”

“Mm.” Hunk hums, more content with kissing along Shiro’s cheek, trailing up to the temple and back down again, towards his neck.

Shiro briefly allows himself to arch into it, twisting his hips to press both palms against Hunk’s shoulder. When he gets a good grip, he tilts Hunk back to kiss him fully, lips brushing together playfully at first.

The carts don’t lurch, per se, but they do jiggle ominously as Shiro pulls back, but Hunk seems significantly calmer now that he’s had a chance to feel the place out.

Shiro gestures to the table. “Brought you something.”

“You’re an angel.” Hunk sighs, making grabby hands as Shiro reaches over to pluck the mug off the table.

He steals a sip, first, even if he’s already full up on cocoa. Hunk steals it back— or atleast the remnants of the taste of it— with one last, quick kiss.

Shiro watches him enjoy the drink, crossing his arms to lean against the mattress. He watches the steam billow up like warm clouds, wafting the gentle smell of peppermint and melted chocolate through the cabin.

It warms him just looking at it, but that may have to do with Hunk being Hunk. He’d shed his jacket, probably when he’d hidden himself under a sheet like a ghost, and Shiro was getting an eyeful of his bare arms. A view he always loved, especially when it was coupled with that vest that Hunk liked to wear around the holidays. It was decorated with penguins on each front panel— two large ones wearing Christmas hats with candy canes stuck on their beaks— and Hunk had paired the red and gold thing with a black undershirt to tie it together.

Shiro remembers going to pick it up as a gag gift, years ago, but Hunk legitimately had loved it so much that his actual gift— a new knife set to go with the sharpener he’d impulsively bought months ago— got left near forgotten. It leaves him soft like molten marshmallow to know that Hunk liked to wear it as much as Shiro liked seeing him in it.

And leaves him warm. Right in his gut. He cups a hand against the curve of arm-muscle to tug Hunk closer, and Hunk ends up setting the drink down to get them situated on the bed.

Shiro soon finds himself cuddled between Hunk and a couple of pillows cushioned against the wall, buried snugly against the soft knitted penguins he’d been admiring earlier (and definitely not the chest they were pressed against, no sir).

Hunk takes a sip of his cocoa, and Shiro passes his cool fingertips across Hunk’s pec. Right across a nipple. If Hunk’s interest is piqued by it, he doesn’t say anything.

“We should head down and get something to eat.” Shiro says, instead. “You’ll calm down on a full stomach.”

“I’m sure Lance and Pidge beg to differ.” Hunk laughs, soft against the rim of his mug. “But I could eat. Figure out if they’re cooking anything good tonight?”

Shiro leans back, easing into the cushion that was his husband even if they were about to get up again shortly. “Smelled lots of steak. A couple of grilled fish dishes, I think? Someone mentioned lamb.”

“I love lamb.” Hunk moans, already tasting it in his mind. “Think they have good chefs?”

“None better than you.” Shiro shoots back, by habit.

xoxo

And soon, they find themselves on the dining car. The deal they’d gotten had a ‘meal-included’ deal, and it was late enough that they hardly needed to wait for a table. Rather, they’d boarded late enough in the day that most people had immediately gone to sleep in their cabins.

Which meant they, more or less, had the entire place to themselves. Hunk orders the lamb, of course, even before Shiro can suggest a light appetizer. Shiro, as much as he’d influenced Hunk to come, never really got hungry on moving vehicles.

Excluding spaceships. And Lions. And whatever the Atlas counted as.

Instead, he nibbles from the breadbasket and orders a champagne to sip on.

“If you were just looking for something to do, we could’ve played a game, babe.” Hunk whines at him, as soon as the waiter leaves.

Shiro only innocently flutters his lashes, pressing their hands together atop the table. Like this, he’s able to trace the shape of Hunk’s wedding ring, side to side until it slides smoothly against his skin. “I like watching you enjoy yourself.”

Hunk pulls away only to capture Shiro’s hand fully, pressing his fingers in the spaces between. “We should ride trains more often.”

Shiro snorts, quickly hiding it as a cough as the waiter comes back with his champagne. He lifts the flute in thanks as they leave, and quickly takes a sip as Hunk stares at him with a dopey smile.

“What happened to being nervous?”

“You calmed me down. Maybe too much.” Hunk says, haughty like a spoiled cat. “You only have yourself to blame.”

Shiro feels himself beaming like an idiot at the tone. Hunk has his chin jutted up, just to commit to the bit, and he’s only just started to pull his hands away to cross his arms, too, when Shiro asks, “Will you marry me?”

Hunk freezes, eyes wide.

The moment catches up to him when Shiro sits up straighter, grin growing impossibly wider. Hunk shoves his red face against the palm of his hand to hide it. “We’re already married.”

The lamp is passed between them, to the space cleared near the wall so that Hunk, in his embarrassed fit, won’t accidentally knock it off the table.

Shiro nods in thanks to the waiter again, completely straight faced as he pretends he isn’t starting a game of footsie beneath the table cloth. When the coast clears, and they’re left to the lowlight of the train, he clicks their rings together. “We sure are.”

Hunk doesn’t even look at the plate. He peeks at Shiro from between his fingers, shy like a four-leaf clover and simmering like a pot of porridge. “I would’ve said yes.”

He has that smile on his face again, as if it really tickles his funny bone that he would’ve. He lifts their hands to pass his lips across Shiro’s knuckles, eyes fluttering shut.

xoxo

The lamb tasted amazing, Shiro can say after stealing half of it from Hunk’s plate. 

When they get back to their room, Hunk circles his arms around Shiro’s waist and pulls him close. He’s gotten taller over the years— not obscenely so, but just enough that He’s undoubtedly the taller of the two now.

Which makes it perfectly easy for him to rest his cheek against the curve of Shiro’s skull, rocking them gentle along with the sway of the train. Shiro murmurs something under his breath, a half-formed question, but ultimately lets it shudder off into nothing more than a content sigh.

His head tips back, and Hunk takes advantage to press a kiss against the parting of Shiro’s lips.

“You’re so relaxed.” Is whispered against his ear, as the kisses travel that way next. “It’s a good look on you.”

Shiro shifts, but doesn’t pull away. His fingers hook against Hunk’s bicep, where it’s holding him snug around the ribs. “So you say. I don’t think being a relaxed Captain would work well.”

“I can think of atleast twenty-five reasons why you, of everyone, deserve to be a relaxed Captain.” Hunk argues, immediately. He squeezes tighter, and the pressure drags a pleased groan from his husband. Shiro always did love snug hugs.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Shiro says, quiet.

Hunk, though, was not finished.

“No one works as hard as you. At anything.” Hunk kisses his temple. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I know.”

Before Shiro can interrupt or refute, Hunk dips his fingers along the planes of Shiro’s stomach. He’s not gotten soft, really, but he’s come far from the all-muscle-and-bone paladin that he used to be. Hunk always did like to feel along the plush, press against the firm.

“Also the prettiest. You deserve pampering.”

Shiro’s chest pauses as he holds his breath when Hunk lets his fingers briefly drip lower, like water sluicing across a window-pane. They pass down his waistband, past the bare arc of his hip.

His other hand, half forgotten where it rests above Shiro’s heart, squeezes down on his pec. Shiro is red in the face, hands awkwardly hovering just above where Hunk was petting him as if he didn’t know what to do.

Which really made Hunk giddy. Shiro was about as seductive as anyone could get— an absolute menace when he wanted to be— so for Hunk to be able to have him fall apart so easily in his hands had him rightfully smug.

Shiro was starting to get flustered, though, so he cut off there. Even married, Shiro was still shy about compliments.

Hunk pulls his hand back, the one that had started to get comfortable between Shiro’s legs, and tilts Shiro’s head back to kiss him on more time. Shiro melts into the touch, probably would swoon if not for how steady Hunk kept him with the arm around his chest.

It takes him a moment to come back to himself after Hunk pulls away, but Hunk was patient. Gives him more time to appreciate the view.

He was still blushing around the fringes, and his scar was a pretty pink. It took a surprising amount of self-control not to kiss it until Shiro scrunched up his nose like he always did, turning his head away to hide his crooked, dorky smile.

It was all about not overwhelming him too much at once, so Hunk resists.

When Shiro’s eyes flutter open again, half-lidded in a daze, Hunk pulls back. “Guess we should get comfortable.”

His eyes widen, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Really, he was completely transparent, and Hunk was smitten with it.

He urges Shiro forward, palm to palm and fingers tangled. Hunk sits first, on the edge of the bed, and Shiro climbs atop him. His hips squeeze down against Hunk’s thighs as he settles, framing Hunk in shadows as he shifts up higher.

Shiro’s jacket, the long overcoat that Shiro had admitted to buying just because it made him feel like a detective, is soon shed and tossed over the headboard, Hunk keeping him stable with two palms pressed against the waist.  

Shiro fingers at his tie, catching at the knot but not pulling to release it. “You know… I’ve never had sex in a train before.”

Hunk snorts— he can’t help it. Shiro smiles, head ducking down, but Hunk ushers him back with an affirmative hum. “Yeah? What’re we gonna do about that?”

Shiro presses him back by the shoulder, until he’s flat against the bed. He stays straddling Hunk’s lower half, spreading himself wider to press them flush together.  

His palm drags heavy across Hunk’s chest, snapping the buttons dangerously far. When he rocks forward, a jolt of pleasure that rattles through Hunk from where they’re pressed groin to groin.

“We’re not leaving this room for the rest of this trip.” Shiro orders.

Hunk traces along the soft fuzz of Shiro’s undercut, fingers brushing across the back of his neck. He sits up on one elbow to motion Shiro closer, but it’s Shiro that leads the kiss this time. It’s more breathless laughs than anything, but it’s perfect in every way.

When Shiro pulls away, he’s got that cheeky, spoiled shine in his eye. And who is Hunk to argue against that?