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lilyofthesword-writes · 4 years ago

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Sorceress (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki comes to stay at the Avengers Tower while you are away on a mission. He becomes quite interested in you when he learns you wield magic similar to him and Doctor Strange.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,260

Warnings/Disclaimers: Anxiety issues, brief mentions of blood loss and injury, Wanda being an awesome friend

Masterlist

You wound your way into the kitchen and flipped on the electric kettle. Gathering your mug, you pulled out your calming tea blend. Today was the first day of the semester, and it always made you anxious. You felt like you had not rested one bit over the summer break. It probably didn’t help that Fury had sent you on a mission for most of it and you just returned yesterday, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Just keep moving. This was your life now.

You went over the mental checklist in your head. Syllabus, notes, handouts...

“And who might you be?”

The low, charming voice ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to jump and almost knock over your mug. Swinging around to face the intruder, you found Loki the God of Mischief hovering closely behind you. You had forgotten about Thor contacting you on your mission to tell you Loki would be kept at the Tower for his punishment. Tony made him call you, something he did when he was afraid of you being angry. You had heard Tony coaching Thor in the background of the call.

“Don’t do that!”

He chuckled, taking a step back. “My sincerest apologies.”

“Riiiight.”

You folded your arms and took in his appearance. He definitely did not look the same as he did on the news when he tried to take New York. From the images you had seen, his eyes were wild and sunken and his face gave off a sense of malnourishment. The god standing before you now looked healthy with bright not quite blue but not quite green eyes that held a sprinkle of boyish mischief. Maybe Thor had it right about the possible mind control.

“Shall we start anew?” He bowed lightly, delicately taking the fingers of your right hand in his, forcing you to uncross your arms. “I am Prince Loki of Asgard.”

Oh no... Boyo was laying it on thick.

Nervously clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

“A lovely name, my lady. May I ask why I have not seen you here before?”

He was still holding your hand. You could feel his energy pushing against yours. Was he trying to test your abilities?

“I was on a mission overseas. Just got back last night.”

“That is a shame. I would have preferred your presence here when I first arrived.”

You heard the click of the kettle and pulled your hand away to pour the hot water in your mug. He seemed almost disappointed by the loss of contact.

“I heard from Wanda that it was pure chaos for a while. She practically begged me to abandon the mission and come home,” you chuckled. “Don’t know if that would have done any good though.”

Taking a sip of your still brewing tea, you realized Loki had retaken the step back from earlier and was nearly looming over you. You regained that space, heading for the door.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish preparing for class.”

You rocketed out the door before he had a chance to respond.

You flopped on your bed after taking a portal home. Your closest friend Wanda was there to greet you.

“So how are all the magic newbies you ditched me for?” she teased.

You huffed a laugh. “Same old, same old. College freshmen who think they already know everything. They’ll be in a world of hurt in the coming weeks.”

“At least being an adjunct professor has its perks, right?”

“Yeah. I have some semblance of a life.”

You both started giggling at that.

“Are you still going to eat with everyone for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t see why not. Today was only day one of classes. Nothing to grade yet.”

“Maybe Loki will chill out then.”

You casted Wanda a concerned look. “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and sat up on the bed. “Ever since Thor mentioned you could wield magic, Loki kept asking when you would be back.”

“Huh,” you mulled. “Guess that would explain this morning.”

“This morning?”

You nodded and hummed. “Yeah. I was in the kitchen making tea when he showed up.”

“You talked to him before me?!” She shoved you playfully, feigning hurt feelings.

“Because I totally planned it,” you laughed.

“So what did you think?”

“You mean other than tall, dark and handsome?” You paused as she snickered. “He’s alright, I guess. He was being overly nice.”

Wanda scoffed. “That little... Okay. So, when he wasn’t holed up in his room or the library being all nice and quiet, he kept making all these snarky comments to everyone. Then, there was the pranking... He saved that mostly for Tony though.”

“So what you’re saying is to keep my guard up because he could go bipolar on me.”

“Yup.”

“Great... This is going to be fun... How long is he staying?”

“Indefinitely.”

All you could do was groan and hide your head in your pillow.

Dinner was suffocating to say the least. Loki joined the team in the dining area, apparently a rarity for him, and they were not happy about it. Well, it was mostly the original team members, the ones who fought against Loki in the Battle of New York. The newer members like you and Wanda, while not fond of him either, couldn’t care less. Thor seemed to be the only who was content, shoveling food down his throat, unable to read the room with a silence so palpable and deafening.

This is... awkward. Wanda spoke to you through her mind, something she usually did when she was uncomfortable but still needed to express herself.

No kidding. I’m thinking about ditching.

Aren’t you hungry though?

Starving! But I can’t eat like this. I’ll come back down in a couple of hours for something. Maybe I’ll watch a movie til then.

Room for one more?

Always!

With half your plate empty, you excused yourself and disposed of the scraps in the kitchen. Steve, who usually fussed at you about your not so great eating habits, did not say a word. Sneaking some snacks for the movie from the kitchen, you went back to your room to wait for Wanda who popped by about ten minutes later.

You woke with a start, stomach growling and gurgling. You blinked away the sleep from your eyes and looked around. Wanda was long gone. You guessed she went back to her room after you fell asleep at some point. She was at least nice enough to turn off the TV before disappearing.

Your belly rumbled, again. Reluctantly leaving behind the warmth of your blankets, you stumbled to your feet and hobbled to the kitchen. You reached for the light switch, the kitchen being too dim in the low lighting left on at night. The lights turned on before you could find it.

“I was wondering when you would arrive.” Your name slid off Loki’s tongue like silk.

Letting out a breath, you tempered your scowl. “What made you think I was coming down here?”

“Aside from the dinner you barely touched?” he chuckled as he traced a finger across the counter. “Well, it can be considered rude to hold a private conversation from such a small group of people.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised by a magic wielder being able to see what other magic wielders are doing.

You folded your arms. “It’s definitely considered rude to eavesdrop.”

“That is quite true.” His signature smirk graced his face. “Although, is it really eavesdropping when I did not listen to what was being said? I merely sensed the exchange of energies.”

“Sure...” You didn’t believe him, but you would let it go for now. It’s not like you two had said anything damning. You just needed to be a bit more careful moving forward. “Now would you be so kind as to stand aside? I would like something to eat, and you’re blocking the fridge.”

“My apologies, but perhaps I may be of better service to you with,” he snapped his fingers, “this.”

The leftovers from dinner instantly appeared piping hot on a plate.

“How did you-”

“Come now. I thought you were a sorceress,” he smirked teasingly.

There was the ego you were expecting.

“I can manage the same end result,” you pouted. “But... the steps leading to it would be different...”

“I could always show you how.”

That grin and those alluring aventurine eyes would be the death of you. You wanted so badly to say yes. While you had the schooling and moved on to helping others, there was still so much more to learn. To say you were eager would be an understatement. The problem was you just met this Trickster God. How could you trust him so soon?

“I... I appreciate the offer, but maybe another time.”

You tucked some of your hair behind your ear. Why did you feel guilty for turning him down?

“Of course. The offer remains standing. Enjoy your dinner, Sorceress,” he replied, his disappointed voice betraying his stoic demeanor.

With that, he swiftly left the room. Yeah. You felt bad. Maybe you would find a way to make it up to him.

Weeks later, and you were frustrated beyond belief. The last lesson you attempted to teach was going nowhere. You needed help, and you needed it now.

You sprung from your room with your notes and textbook and practically sprinted to the library where Loki could usually be found. You were right. There he was lounging with his back to you on one of the couches amongst the books, reading Dante’s Divine Comedy.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Sorceress?” He didn’t even look up from the text. Not a good sign.

Taking a breath, you answered, “I was hoping I could get your help with something.”

That got his attention. “Oh? Would you not rather ask that Strange fellow the others prefer to associate with.” he scowled.

Great. Of course, he had to be in one of those moods today. His mood swings were to be expected but the timing was difficult to predict.

“Pff. The last time I asked him for help, he was a total ass. Just because he trained with a master overseas for a short period of time and has a photographic memory does not mean he fully understands every magical concept.” You brought your rant to a halt. You could say so much more but doubted anyone wanted to listen.

“Well, someone who sees that charlatan for what he truly is,” he snorted, snapping his book shut. “Now, pray tell, why would I assist you when your magic is so similar to his?”

Adding fuel to the fire. The rant was back on. With a huff, you came around to the front of the sofa and dropped your supplies on the coffee table, taking a seat next to him.

“You really want to get me started, don’t you? Look, I have been practicing and studying magic since I was child before I even knew what I was even doing. Hell, I’m still learning. That will never stop. I have worked my ass off to get this far. That’s why I get frustrated with Strange. He never believed in magic until it could help him in some fashion, and then he’s deemed a ‘master’ so soon after starting. Admittedly, yes, I am a bit jealous. However, I would not change how I have learned because it has allowed me to dig deeper and understand more.”

You inhaled deeply, signaling the end of your monologue. You had not really meant to go that far with it, but it was too late now. Your words hung in the air as Loki studied you.

“What do you need assistance with?” He flashed you a grin.

You silently screamed with relief. “Okay, so there was a theory I was trying to teach yesterday.” Flipping open the textbook to the right page, you brought your notebook and pen to your lap. “The students just aren’t getting it.”

Loki leaned over the table to read the book. “Magical Exchange: The Equal Exchange Theory...” His eyebrows could have rocketed off his forehead with how surprised he was. “This is an elementary subject.”

“It is a 101 course,” you shrugged. “I just don’t know how to explain it better. I’ve not taught a class that had issues with this before. This particular group has proven... Difficult.”

“Have you attempted a more... Oh what do you mortals call it,” he hummed. “A more ‘hands on’ approach?”

You sighed and unconsciously tapped your pen on your notebook. “Yeah. I tried to improvise like that when the text did nothing. It just made things worse.”

“I see...” His lips drooped into a frown. “Perhaps a new perspective is required.”

“You read my mind,” you teased, winking at him. You still had not forgotten that first day. “So if you were teaching this, how would you go about it?”

Clearing his throat, he picked up the text book and lounged back on the couch. An anxious silence droned on before he finally spoke again.

“This text describes the various classifications of what is considered Equal Exchange, yet there is little on what does not qualify.”

Loki proceeded on his own mini-lecture about the experiments performed by both mortals and Asgardians, many of which ended in failure due to the lack of Equal Exchange. One ended up being about the Philosopher’s Stone, a topic you had already learned quite a bit about. You scribbled notes as fast as you could, filling up a good quarter of your notebook when he had finished.

You chewed on the end of your pen while looking over your notes. “This could work. Between these explanations and showing some examples, they might grasp what all it means.” Letting out a tired sigh, you looked up at him with full sincerity. “Thank you, Loki. I owe you one.”

He chuckled deeply, sending shivers down your spine. What was he up to?

“There is one favor I wish to ask of you in exchange.”

You blinked deftly. “And what might that be?”

Taking your free hand in his, he gently swiped his thumb across your knuckles. “I merely ask for a dance.”

“A. Dance?” That was not what you had expected.

“Yes. Stark is holding one of his... illustrious parties next Saturday.”

Oh crap. You had purposely forgotten about that. Parties were not normally your thing.

“R-right! I forgot...” you mumbled, swiping your hair behind your ear.

“All I ask is one dance. Would that be acceptable?”

You gazed into his eyes where a dabble of insecure hope hid. “I... Yes. That would be nice.”

Your face felt like it was on fire when he kissed your knuckles, whispering, “Excellent,” before he helped you to your feet and gathered your belongings.

Saturday seemed to arrive all too quickly. Anxiety pulsated through your veins most of the day. Why were you so nervous? It was just one dance.

You sucked in a breath as you took in your appearance in the mirror. The off-the-shoulder, malachite dress hugged your form just right until it flowed gracefully from your hips to your knees. A silver pendant and heels tied off the look. You looked... Good. Better than you had anticipated. Now if you could just calm yourself down.

All those people, people you did not know for the most part would be there, too. Tony always invited so many guests no one else knew. But you also wouldn’t be alone. The whole team was going to be there. You would not be alone. One party should be manageable.

A knock at your door tore you from your spiraling thoughts. With a half-hearted sigh, you meandered to the door and open it to find Wanda and Vision. Wanda must have sensed your distress. She took one look at you, told Vision she would meet him downstairs, gave him a chaste kiss and stepped into your room, closing the door behind her.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this, Wanda.” You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts of nausea swimming in your head.

She said your name with such resolution, your gaze snapped up to hers. “You can do this.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t start. One, you look gorgeous. Two, you’re a professor AND Avenger. You teach in auditoriums and fight bad guys for a living. This party should not be a problem.”

“Small auditoriums...” you mumbled, earning you a look.

“Three, Vision and I will stay nearby. If any weirdo tries anything with you again, we’ll be there.”

Because you needed to remember the one party where some drunk rando was getting too handsy, the one where you had trouble controlling your abilities because you did not and do not like crowds. Tony, Steve and Wanda had to extract you after kicking out the drunk moron. That was your last party.

“I don’t want to be the third whe-”

“Shush. I’m not done.” She waved you off. “And four, once you have your dance, you can get the hell out of there. Okay?” She smiled sympathetically.

You nodded and looked at the floor. Wanda took you by the shoulders and forced you to stand.

“Alright, now breathe with me. Ground and center. Breathe. Raise your shields. Breathe.”

Doing what you were told, you started to feel better, the deep breaths helping the most.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s get going. Remember, you can do this.” She guided you towards the door.

“Right... I can do this...”

I can’t do this...

You leaned on a wall out of the way, sipping on a light cocktail that you had hoped would keep you calm. It didn’t. Between the flashing lights, pounding music and the chaotic array of energies emanating off the guests just made you want to crawl in a hole and bury yourself.

Wanda and Vision were out of your sight but you could still sense them nearby. They’d be there in a blink of an eye if you needed them, but you didn’t want to ruin their fun. It also did not help that Loki was nowhere to be seen. At first, you thought he and Thor were getting ready, but that thought was thrown out when Thor arrived fashionably late alone. Maybe Loki decided the whole thing was a waste of time and backed out of coming. Yeah. That had to be it which meant you could bug out of here early.

“There you are, Sorceress.”

Never mind. Just as you had moved to the bar to set your glass down, Loki showed up behind you. You spun around, dress flowing out as you did. He looked taken aback with his cheeks slightly flushed. He muttered something under his breath but the music and chatter drowned him out.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

He just shook his head, smiling as he reached out a hand for you. “Would you care to join me on the balcony?”

Balcony?! Why didn’t you think about going out there? It would be so much quieter.

“I would like that very much.” You took his hand and let him lead you outside.

The balcony was so much better. The doors muffled the incessant beat of the club music along with the yelling guests. You took in a deep breath, taking the chance to glance at Loki and appreciate his look.

Yup. Still attractive in Midgardian clothing. His designer suit looked as though it was made only for him, the black color matching his curling hair that brushed past his shoulders. The green tie brought out his eyes and made them seem more saturated like an emerald. You definitely appreciated the new style.

“You’re staring, Darling,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I’m so used to seeing you in your Asgardian garb,” you flushed. “T-the change is not unwelcome though. You look great!”

Great. Where were your words when you needed them most? And did he call you “Darling”?

“Thank you, my dear. Now, about that dance...”

That’s when you realized he was still holding your hand.

“What about the music?”

“I have something better planned than the noise Stark has chosen.”

He pulled you close, one hand encased yours while the other placed your free hand on his shoulder before snapping his fingers and keeping you close by the small of your back. A record player appeared playing Merry-Go-Round of Life.

“Shall we?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes.”

Loki swayed with you along the length of the balcony, leading you into spins in time with the music. Neither of you had said a word since you started moving, but you did not need to. Everything was perfect. You felt like you were dancing on clouds amongst the stars. All of your anxiety had melted away. Needless to say, you were disappointed when the song ended.

“I do not suppose I would be able to convince you for another dance?”

Loki held your hands in his as he pulled back. He seemed just as disappointed as you.

“Well,” you mocked contemplation, “That wasn’t part of the original agreement.”

The soft grip on your hands loosened even more.

“But, I don’t see why I can’t make an exception, especially seeing how your explanations went over so well with the students. I haven’t thanked you for that part,” you smirked and with a golden flourish of your hand, changed the music on the record player.

Loki’s grin put the starlight to shame as he brought you back to him. As one song ended, one of you would switch it out to keep the music going.

Neither of you knew how long you were out there for. It had to have been more than a couple of hours since Tony was the one to break up your private party.

“Reindeer Games, Magic Hands! Pack it up! Party guests have already left!”

Both of you grimaced, hating your nicknames. Regardless, Loki led you back inside. Wanda and Vision had stayed throughout the party while you were on the balcony, and gave both of you these little knowing looks as you passed them. Ignoring them, Loki walked you to your room.

“Thank you, Loki. You made the night much more enjoyable,” you smiled brightly.

He smiled back, playing with the fingers of your hands. “I am happy to be of assistance, Sorceress.”

A moment of silence and you stepped forward, thinking of something a touch bold. “You know, if this were to become a regular occurrence, I might be persuaded to show up at Stark’s parties more often.”

A low chuckle reverberated in his chest. “That could be arranged.”

“I hope so.” You leaned on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, again.”

You slipped past your door so quickly you didn’t notice the lightly dusted blush on Loki’s face.

Today was not a good day. Scratch that. It was a terrible day. Some senior in Advanced Summoning got cocky and accidentally summoned a few large, irate creatures from the Fae Realm. With you being an Avenger and working for the school, it was no surprise you were chosen to handle the situation. Killing would have been easier, but you could not bring yourself to do it. It’s not their fault they were ripped from their home and dropped in an unfamiliar world. You were able to open a portal and send them back but not without sustaining a critical injury. You were barely able to close the portal before passing out from blood loss.

You woke up in the medical wing of the campus, a fog clouding your brain. You felt the dull pain in your side where one of the creatures had swiped its claws whenever you tried to move.

“Oh! Please lie still!” A healer came rushing over. “You don’t want to reopen the wound. We’ve done all we can to heal you without overloading your body.”

You just nodded and rested your head on the pillow. Looking at the window, you noticed how dark it was.

“What time is it?”

The healer looked at you nervously. “A little after 10PM.”

Groaning, you sank into the pillow more. “Do you know where my phone is? I need to make a call.”

The team knew your schedule, and they were going to flip, especially Loki. You two had grown attached to each other since the start of your balcony dances (there had been at least six so far). The status of your relationship was in limbo, somewhere between friends and romantic partners. Neither of you seemed to know which way to go.

The healer left the room momentarily before rushing back in. Handing you your phone, she warned, “Now, your phone started going off non-stop since about six this evening. We had to answer just to see if it was important and if they could wait until you called back. Th-the man on the other end. He was.. Not. Pleased. He started demanding to know where you were...”

“I understand,” you cut her off softly. “If I could get some privacy please, I will call him.”

She nodded and headed to the door.

“And whatever else he said, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The healer pursed her lips and closed the door behind her. What the hell did he say to her?

You picked Loki’s contact in your phone. He answered in barely one ring, calling out your name. “Norns, are you alright?! Where are you? What happened?”

“Loki, I’m fine. I’m still on campus. There was a little mishap that I had to take care of. Got a little banged up in the process, but everything is okay.” You added that last part quickly.

“A little mishap? You should have returned hours ago. Please, allow me to bring you home.”

“Loki, the school only allows faculty members and students on campus. The wards make sure of that. And despite the constant demands, even Fury and Strange have not been granted access. They don’t even know where to look. Besides, you’re on lockdown. Remember?” You tried to reason with him, but knew he would not give up so easily.

He pleaded your name. Lately, he almost always stuck to pet names for you, only using your name when he was truly upset. “Please... I need to know that you are in good health.”

“I am, Loki. I will more than likely be back at the Tower in the morning.”

“Not tonight?” His pout was clear even over the phone.

“It’s late and I doubt the healers would let me check myself out at this hour.”

“I- Alright.” The defeated tone in his voice made your heart break.

“I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“Please...”

“Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight.”

As you pulled the phone away to hang up, you heard him call your name.

“Yes?”

“I... I will see you tomorrow.”

You hummed with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

It was early morning when you finally left the campus. Loki didn’t answer his phone, so you left him a voicemail instead, fairly sure he knew how to access it. Cell phones still were not his strong suit, but he was getting better.

Stepping through the Tower doors, you were greeted by Happy who gave you the world’s most gentle bear hug. He had Friday let the others know you were headed up.

“By the way,” he yelled to you as you stepped in the elevator. “Loki was up all night worrying about you. You should go talk to him.” He winked at you.

You just shook your head as the elevator doors. When they reopened at the common room floor, you were greeted with Wanda tackling you before she dragged you out.

“Loki told us something went down at the University. What happened?!”

She pulled you into the common room to one of the sofas.

“Some moron was trying to impress a girl in Advanced Summoning. Brought in some undocumented creatures from the Fae Realm.”

“Of course... Now you were hurt? Where?” She started looking you over.

You lifted your shirt just enough to show the heavy bruising on your side. “The healers did a decent patch up. Just have to deal with this for a couple days, and then I’m good.”

“I wish I could help, but healing is not my forte.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” you smiled reassuringly, letting your shirt fall.

“Fine is not how you would have been classified yesterday,” a low voice came from behind the couch, startling you.

“L-Loki! I thought I had told you not to do that!” You clutched your chest, taking a deep breath.

“Darling, may I speak with you? Alone.” Loki gestured for you to follow him.

You squeezed Wanda’s hand apologetically. “I’ll come find you later.”

Loki led you out, down the hall and into the library. He didn’t say a word until he sat you down on the couch next to him, gaze on his lap.

“Loki... I-”

“Dove, what were you thinking taking on those beasts on your own?” He clutched your hands tightly.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m one of the few stateside who is trained in battle magic,” you pleaded.

He was upset. It was obvious. Your heart shattered with how he looked at you, fear and worry melded into one.

“You could have called for assistance.”

“Loki, we’ve been over this-”

“Would they not have made an exception with their students in danger.” It was a statement. He was right about that.

“If there were time, yes. They needed to be dealt with immediately.” You tore your hands from his grasp and cupped his face for him to really look you in the eyes. “Loki. Everything turned out alright. I’m still here, and I’m okay.”

“And yet you almost were not.” His voice was so quiet, you barely heard him. “I... I do not...”

You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, encouraging him to go on. He pulled one hand away to hold while leaning into the other.

“Just be more careful from now on. Please.”

“Of course.”

“Promise me.” He squeezed your hand.

“I will. But first.” You took your hand from his face. “Finish what you were saying.”

He froze. “I am not sure what you mean.”

“You cut yourself off three times within twenty-four hours. You always finish your sentences. Now. What were you going to say?”

He still was not used to being caught, his initial confusion evident in his eyes which then darted about the room nervously. You sighed, and with a golden flourish of your hand, the library doors shut and locked.

“There. No one to walk in and disturb us or overhear.”

Loki was silent. He stared at your hand that was intertwined with his, then met your eyes.

“I do not know what I would do without you,” he whispered, bringing you into his arms in one fluid motion, your head tucked under his chin.

The scent of cedar and sage filled your senses as you returned the embrace and carded your fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s not something you need to think about. I’m not going anywhere,” you responded softly. “Promise.”

He hugged you close, pulling you into his lap. His chest rose with a deep breath before he kissed the top of your head.

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damnzawa · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there! I just found your account and I love you writing! I was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader fantasy au? Where prince bakugou goes to a small village in his kingdom for a pit stop while on a quest but meets the reader who's a poor butcher's daughter that doesn't know who he is and doesn't really care either but really wants to go on a quest and begs him to let her travel with him in exchange for being a chef. Thank you so much!!💞💕💗 ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾┌(★ｏ☆)┘

ANNOYING — B. KATSUKI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this took a long time to be published! I went off tumblr for a while due to personal issues but now I'm back! Hope you like this!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (for now)

WARNINGS: Language LMAO but its Bakugo so what do we expect. Also this is not beta read!

WORD COUNT: 1955

Not everyday you have the privilage to meet the prince. The heir to the kingdom's throne. The second most respected man in the whole entire kingdom.

And not everyday you get to mistake him as a thief either.

Not that you care about his title, really. You believe that all men are created equal, regardless of their social standings, heirarchy and whatnot. Thus, you didn't really care about the prince and the royal family that much to ever know about them. Not even their faces, nor names.

So, it wasn't a surprise that it will cause you your possible demise.

You see, the day started nice. You went out to do some deliveries, met some nice people on the road who bought half of the meat your father had cut, and to top it all off the farmer was kind enough to give you extra rootcrops as a sign of gratitude to you and your father. It was a great day all in all. Until, the knights came.

Along with the explosive prince.

Murmurs began to start as you headed back to your father's stall in the market after a long day of delivery work. Even though you didn't mean to eavesdrop — it was kind of hard not to, considering how their volumes were — you caught the words: arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered. And later you found out those words described the prince.

"He must be a nincompoop then. To get such a reputation from the people in town, he must have done some... questionable things." You said to yourself. Too engrosed in your thoughts, you bumped into a red-headed knight. You bowed immediately while apologizing then excused yourself, you didn't really want to interact with knights today. All you wanted to do was cook a hearty meal for your stubborn father, read a book by the fireplace after a bath, and relax.

But all those plans seem to be quickly washed away when you saw an ash blond quietly steal from your father. You were gonna let it slide, thinking that maybe it was for a good cause.

That is until you realized, the man stole a prime cut.

As if a switch was flicked, you quickly ran towards the direction the man headed to. Spotting him from afar, you ran as fast as you can and knocked the man into the ground, shocking the people around you.

"Give it back." You sternly commanded the man. "Give back the meat you stole from my father."

The man scoffed at your 'accusations' and tried to wiggle his way free but your entire weight placed on top of his back made it hard to do so. "Let me fucking go. I have no idea what the actual fuck you are accusing me of."

"Oh shut it. I saw you with my own two eyes and I am very much sure that their vision is not impaired yet." His futile attempts at escaping now stopped as he tilted his head to see the scoundrel who had the audacity to knock him down and embarrass him infront of townspeople.

Of course it had to be a girl.

"Are you one of my admirers to go such lengths as accusing me of stealing from a commoner?" That comment made your eye twitch because first, you are certainly not an admirer of this prick. Two, you don't even know the guy! Three, who would admire this piece of work? And lastly, your father might be a 'commoner' but he's the best 'commoner' you could ever find! There wouldn't be a slab of ribs or a fine piece of steak on your plates if it weren't for him! And the way this asshole said 'commoner' with such distaste too! What a prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

"My prince!" The same red-headed knight you bumped into earlier shouted from afar. Your eyes widened for a second before turning back to the asshole beneath you who now has a smug grin on his face.

"Miss! Are you alright?" The knight asked while helping you get up. "Did the prince cause you any disturbances? Any problems?" It was your turn to plaster on a smug grin on your face. You saw his own falter which you made you more smug than before.

"Why yes actually, the prince caused me a slight inconvenience." The red-head sighed, taking a quick glance at the prince beside him — who couldn't stand due to pain. "The prince stole a priceless little thing from my father's stall earlier and I'd like for him to return it or better yet, pay for it." The prince was about to retort but the red-head beat him to it.

"I deeply apologize for the prince's action, miss. If it would make you happy and satisfied, I will pay for the items he stole. I will also ask for forgiveness on his behalf." Angry noises came from the prince's (beast) mouth as the red-headed knight did exactly what he told making you raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing it for him? Can't he do it himself?" It was amazing to see a knight easily convinced to do something a mere 'commoner' like you demanded, but you concluded that this red-headed fellow wasn't an ordinary knight. He seemed like the type that's fed up with the prince's antics, thus his demeanor towards people is filled with empathy and the usual knightly courage. But your words made him halt, and look at you as if you were from some otherworldly land.

You caught the knight mutter about something manly before the prince interrupted. "Hah?! I'm not gonna apologize to someone lower than me! You extra!" The knight sweat-dropped at the prince's words while you looked at him blankly. Wow, the rumors are true, he is an asshole.

"Well, Your Highness, this extra happened to be the one who cared for the rib who used to be a part of the cow that you stole just now. So, apologize and pay up. I don't care if you're the prince or not. Thievery is a crime, and you just committed it." The crowd begin to whisper, making the prince's eye twitch.

"Fine, you annoying extra! Give her whatever the fuck she wants!" And with that the prince stormed off. Leaving you and the red-haired knight behind. The crowd began to disperse, seeing as the scene just concluded and that the man of the hour was gone.

The knight turned to you once again and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry for my prince's actions. As he caused such an inconvenience and refuses to be accountable for his actions, I shall ensure to provide whatever compensation you need or want — within reason of course." Before you can respond, he introduces himself with a grin. "Ah! How silly of me! Chivalric knight, Kirishima Eijirou at your service."

"I appreciate your efforts, Sir Kirishima, but I just need the payment for the stolen goods." You replied with a smile, but soon your smile faltered. You had wanted to be a chef for so long and travel unknown lands to discover cuisine and cooking techniques you've never heard of before. Perhaps... is this the right time to do it?

You bit your lip as you contemplated. Should you grab this opportunity and run with it?

Seeing your hesitancy, Kirishima waited for your answer. "Actually... I have a request... I was wondering if it's possible?"

"I'm all ears, Miss."

...

"What is this extra doing here?!" Prince Bakugo exclaimed as he saw your annoying little face within his traveling party. Kirishima sighed as he explained the situation. You would join his party as a chef until you reach the capital where you will be training to be a chef under the great Lunch Rush. Bakugo was about to object when Kirishima shot him a look.

"Fine. But I'm not eating garbage cooked by a commoner!" You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. Are all royals like this?

As if reading your mind, Kirishima responds. "Don't worry. King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki are quite modest and kind."

"Then what happened to him?" You pointed to Bakugo.

"I heard that, you extra!" Fowl language followed that statement making the traveling party sigh. Oh boy, this is gonna be a painful journey.

After that, you said your goodbyes to your father, who was very emotional about the turn of events. "Be good and be brave, my sweet child. And ask for forgiveness from His Highness." Your brows were scrunched in confusion.

"Why must I do that? He was clearly in the wrong!"

"Ah... that slab of meat was a present from me to him. He once helped me round up the cows when his traveling party went by our house yesterday. The slab of priceless meat was a token of appreciation for his kind gesture. So, do apologize for your actions, ok?" The information you just heard astounded you, making you speechless. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you promised your father that you will apologize to the prince. And with a final promise of coming home as a renowned chef, you parted ways.

The journey started rough. The prince refused to eat anything you made at all. His stubbornness knows no bounds and his overall demeanor towards you was not pleasant, which you understood as the scene you caused was a total misunderstanding on your part. The only upside was the traveling party greatly enjoyed your meals, and some even gave you recipes from different places and suggestions of destinations that you'll surely enjoy to explore! Overall, it went smoothly.

That is, until the prince became sick.

The doctors in your traveling party asked you to concoct different meals suited to His Highness, You had to stop at a village in order to ensure Prince Bakugo's speedy recovery. And one day, you were assigned to deliver his meals to him personally.

"Prince Bakugo?" You knocked on the door, and as expected, not a response came from the prince. You sighed and slowly opened the door, cautiously stepping in so you won't wake Bakugo up or spill the contents of the bowl you held.

"Go away, you extra." He grumbled, but his rough voice was replaced with a weak ome due to his illness.

"Look, I know you won't eat my meals but you need to eat. You can't recover from this if your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to fight back this illness." You huffed. "And... besides, consider this as my way of making up to you."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"My father told me about it. I'm sorry for mistaking you for a thief. I tried to apologize to you on several occasions but you angrily push me away every time I do. So, I figured this might be the right timing since you know... you aren't your usual aggressive self." You scratched your nape in embarrassment. "Besides, if there's something I learned while traveling with you is that you're a big softie inside. You might act rough and is shard on the edges, you're actually kind-hearted and caring. Uh... anyways. Please make sure to eat your meal, Prince Bakugo."

Before you can exit the room, you heard him say, "Annoying extra." But the usual hostility behind those words wasn't there. You might just be assuming it or imagining it, but those words almost sounded... fond.

With a shake of your head, you left the room.

Later that day, you found the bowl to be empty and outside of his room. Along with it was a note that read, "Don't fucking tell me what to do, you annoying extra."

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #kirishima eijiro/reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugo/reader #kirishima/reader #im writing again yey

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local-ground-apple · 4 years ago

Note

Can I ask fluff (and spice?) headcanons for Pomefiore and Scarabia boys turning into a 4-5 kid by accident and their s/o have to take care of them. And when they turn back normal what would their reaction? It's up to you Author-san!!!(-chan?) Oh, I and you can include some other characters too~❤❤❤

I couldn’t think of anything spicy, so maybe in another Vil one-shot I have planned

Oh, when I thought of that scenario, the first person that came to my mind was Silver, so I included him too

🏹 even as a child he is deadly. You literally have to hide his bow and arrow before his small hands land on them,

🏹 magically Rook still gets his hands on them despite your unrelenting efforts to stop him,

🏹 you absolutely cannot shift your attention from child Rook. Even in this form his footsteps are light and there’s no way you would hear them. He’s quite good in escaping your sight and you panic each time he does that. There’s a high chance you’d find Rook somewhere in Savanaclaw trying to touch Leona’s tail,

🏹 stop him, before big bad lion wakes up,

🏹 babysitting Rook is just draining, so after each day you’re exhausted,

🏹 even as a child, Rook will still kiss your cheeks and showers you in compliments in French, even if tell him to stop. He shall not listen,

🏹 when Rook turns human again (mostly because Crewel finally made a potion), he thanks you deeply for taking care of him. He doesn’t seem troubled by it at all, non, non. He actually enjoyed his rather short time under your wings,

🦚 he must have somehow mess something up with the ingredients or measured something incorrectly. Needless to say, Vil is absolutely embarrassed. What about his image, how could this happen? So obviously, he blamed Rook for his current state, knowing damn well that it was his own fault. Rook decided to politely roll with it,

🦚 you literally can’t stop cooing how cute and adorable Vil is as a child (you had never seen prettier kid). He may enjoy your attention focused solely on him, but he won’t hesitate to slap your hand if you go overboard (you still find it cute),

🦚 you and Rook are self-proclaimed parents. Rook dotes on Vil, while you just do your best to keep him out of trying to produce any potions,

,,If I did it in my adult form, I can still do it, Y/N” “No, you’re a baby” “I’m not a baby!!” “Yes, you are”

🦚 Vil secretly enjoys when you give him attention. Just give him small pecks on the forehead or cheek and he will blush and turn his head around,

🦚 when he finally turns back, Vil brushes this whole accident off. He just wants to quickly forget. Of course, he appreciates every effort you had put in taking care of him and he will thank you, but deep down inside, he feels a bit embarrassed,

🦚 Vil invites for a “spa day”. It’s his way of doting on you for a whole time, as a thank you present,

🍏 Epel is simply devastated when he turns into child,

🍏 well, he’s devastated for two minutes before he throws a tantrum. A lot of tantrums,

🍏 whether you want it or not, Vil proclaims himself as a father. You both argue a lot when it comes to taking care of Epel. However, you both agree on one thing – that Rook should not participate in Epel’s upbringing,

🍏 Epel is rather aggressive, deciding it’s the best time to pay back for all that bullying he had gone through. Yes, he’s stealing Rook’s hat, hiding Vil’s lipsticks and generally pulling a lot of pranks on them. Technically, he’s a child and you’re there whenever furious dorm leader raises his hand to slap Epel,

🍏 he enjoys that he can finally annoy them and his actions go unpunished, cause you’re always there to react in time,

🍏 Epel however hates when you’re cooing over how cute he is as child. He pouts and is deeply offended. He always wanted you to view him as strong man, yet he turned into a child and you just can’t stop saying how adorable he is,

🍏 he will do his best to prove to you that he’s still capable of handling a lot of things, which leads to rather hazardous situations and you always have a mild panic attack, whenever Epel tries something. May it be trying to climb the tree to save the cat, shooting an arrow from Rook’s bow or accidentally spilling Vil’s poison everywhere, you literally have no break with him,

🍏 when he turns back, he just wants to forget about this. He appreciates your help and he will shyly thank you for it. But please don’t bring those awful memories ever again. Epel will flush and clench his fists at the mere mention,

🦂 chaos. Absolute chaos,

🦂 after a day spent on taking care of Kalim, you don’t even know what’s your name, what date is it or whether Jamil is alive,

🦂 you and Jamail join forces to stop the apparently powerful forces of destruction known as Kalim Al-Asim or just preventing the poor child from accidentally hurting himself,

🦂 make sure you locked the door leading to magical carpet properly. Double check just in case,

🦂 Kalim is cheerful and careless as a teenager, but when he’s a child, it’s a whole new level for you. During these few days, you’re always busy making sure he doesn’t injury himself or create a bigger mess. You often dance and sing with this child, making him more than happy,

🦂 you two didn’t invite Jamil to your pillow fort,

🦂 when Kalim turns back into a teenager, the first thing he does is showering you in kisses. Literally, a lot of kisses. He’s grateful that you went through trouble and took care of him. He will gladly return the favor, so expected that for the next few days Kalim will treat you like a princess,

🐍 oh boy, you thought he would be a calm child and that those few days would pass rather quickly. How wrong you were,

🐍 he tried to hypnotise Kalim into lending him magical carpet and he tried to make you give him the candies with his unique magic. Fortunately, you weren’t impressed with his attempts and you politely refused,

🐍 Jamil is surprised when you tell him that kitchen is off-limits. You don’t let him cook, too afraid that he will burn himself. However, he enjoys observing you cooking for him. He sits calmly watching you mix ingredients and in those moments, you could swear that he’s the most docile and well-behaved child you had ever seen,

🐍 he’s not,

🐍 he plays small pranks on Kalim and you have to admit that they’re somehow funny. You may even giggle whenever Jamil manages to play an innocent trick on fellow dorm leader,

🐍 Kalim threw a party and Jamil, of course, got lost in the crowd. Guess you will never get a decent break. You spent half of the evening trying to find small child, only to be surprised when he was being babysitted by Azul and Leech twins,

🐍 let’s just say that you’ve never snatched a child from someone’s arms so quickly,

🐍when he turns back, Jamil just wants to forget. Just forget about everything,

🐍 of course, he will try to recompensate your efforts. He wants to take care of you too as his way of appreciating you. He knows that he was a pain in the ass, but he’s willing to make up for this,

⚔️ Lilia is more than delighted, bah, he’s overjoyed. It’s just like few years ago when Silver was small and he can be a father again,

⚔️ Lilia absolutely knows what he’s doing, while you’re purely confused, Sebek may be laughing, but stops when you threaten him to give a potion to turn him into a child too. Malleus is intensively looking for a cure,

⚔️ Lilia lets you babysit Silver, even though he assures you that he will manage on his own,

,,I seriously want to help you. I’m his girlfriend after all” “If you insist, Little One”

⚔️ you moved to Diasomnia for few days and you were complaining all the time that it’s way too cold for a child there. You and Silver spent a lot of time in the woods. You seriously coo way too much how adorable he looks surrounded by animals,

⚔️ Silver hates when Lilia jokingly says that now, instead of his girlfriend, you’re Silver’s “self-proclaimed mum” . He just can’t stand you and Lilia acting like a caring parents, he just can’t,

,,No, she’s my girlfriend, not your self-proclaimed wife, old man” “Oh? Five-years old doesn’t have a girlfriend”

⚔️ Lilia is just joking, don’t worry,

⚔️ ancient fae had told you way too many stories from Silver’s childhood to his liking. You had also seen a ton of pictures of baby Silver,

⚔️ Silver is generally a calm child and you have practically no troubles taking care of him. He’s either asleep half of the time or purely embarrassed. No in between,

⚔️ when Silver turns (finally) back, first thing he does is hugging you tightly, while pressing kisses all over your face - on forehead, cheeks, lips,

⚔️ generally, he’s grateful for your time. Oh, and he’s extremely embarrassed. Sebek will literally never let him forget about this incident, unless you and waka-sama has a serious “talk” with this first year,

787 notes · View notes

naminethewriter · 3 years ago

Text

Vacation

This is my entry for the @sandersidesbigbang! I had a lot of fun participating 🥰 Thanks to all the mods for organizing this! Also huge thanks to @just-a-pintrovert & @5-falsehoods-phonated for beta reading 💙 There is also some artwork also from @just-a-pintrovert here! They did a fantastic job and I highly recommend you check out her blog! And now, enjoy!

Here on Ao3

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Roman, Janus, Logan, Remus

Relationships: platonic Intrulogical, platonic Prinmoxiety, platonic Moceit

Rating: T

Words: 12,502

Summary: Logan doesn't show up for breakfast one morning, leaving behind a letter declaring he's going on vacation. Unsure of its authenticity, Roman, Patton and Virgil go to look for him on Remus' side of the Imagination with a certain snake as their guide.

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

It started out like any other day. Patton entered the kitchen around 7 in the morning to prepare breakfast. Logan should join him soon, then Roman around an hour later and Virgil after that. When exactly was hard to say, the anxious side’s sleep schedule was the most inconsistent, but most of the time he was up last. Today Patton wanted to make an extra special breakfast since their discussion the day before had gotten a bit out of hand and nobody walked away from it happy. He just hoped all his kiddos would show up. 

Half an hour later that fear proves to be warranted. Logan still hasn’t come down. Patton had even checked the coffee machine to make sure he hadn’t missed him. But it was still as clean as he had left it yesterday. Nervously his eyes flicker from the stove to the clock and over to the stairs before he focuses on making breakfast again, but his eyes would stray every few seconds. 

Five minutes later he finally hears movement upstairs. Logan probably had been exhausted yesterday and stayed in bed a bit longer than usual. Someone was coming down the stairs now and Patton turns around with a big smile, expecting Logan but coming across Virgil instead. 

“Oh,” Patton says, his smile slipping. But he immediately catches the insecure look on Virgil’s face at his reaction. “Sorry, kiddo,” he laughs, trying his best to seem cheerful. “I thought you were Logan, but I’m happy to see you, too! It’s quite early for you though. Did you not sleep well?” Now that he takes a closer look, Patton can see the tiredness on Virgil’s face, who gives him a weak smile. 

“Morning, popstar. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured might as well get up, y’know?” He moves over to the coffee machine, looking at it confused for a few seconds before he seems to realize what else Patton had said. “Logan wasn’t here yet?” 

“I don’t think so,” Patton shakes his head, his eyes now fixed on the stove so that Virgil doesn’t see the concern across his face. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee, you know I’m no good at making some.” He tries to play it off as a joke with a laugh but even he knows it’s not convincing. Virgil hovers at the coffee machine, unsure of what to do, how to comfort Patton. Instead, he moves to make the coffee himself and trying to cheer the other up with words. 

“It’s fine, Pat. I can do it and I’m sure Lo’s gonna come down soon. We all had a lot to think about yesterday… Maybe he just needs some more time to think it through again this morning. But you know how he is, he’ll come down and act like it was nothing later. You’ll see.” At the end of his little ramble, the machine is in the process of brewing and Virgil gives Patton a short hug before moving to set the table. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Patton mumbles, more to himself than to Virgil and continues to work on breakfast. 

Around 20 minutes later, Roman arrives, a lot more energized than Virgil had been. “What a wondrous morrow! ‘Tis a day to sing and dance, I say!” Both Patton and Virgil chuckle at his boasting. 

“Good morning to you too, Roman,” Patton greets as he pulls him into a loose hug before going back to distribute their breakfast onto the plates Virgil had sat out. 

“I’m surprised to see you arrive before me, Doom-and-Gloom,” Roman says to Virgil while preparing his own mug of coffee. The other had taken seat on the counter after finishing his part of breakfast preparations and watched Patton work the rest of the time while slowly nursing his coffee (I say slowly but he is already working on his second mug). Virgil just shrugs. 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Roman hums in acknowledgment and then silence falls over the kitchen, only Patton scurrying around is heard. Not long however before Patton cheerfully announces: “Breakfast is ready!” 

“Wonderful!” Roman exclaims loudly. “What a marvelous feast you prepared for us, padre!” Patton giggles. 

“Thank you for the compliment, my prince.” 

“My, of course! What kind of ruler would I be if I couldn’t appreciate my subjects!” 

“A pretty standard one,” Virgil adds with a small smile. Roman huffs. 

“Only more proof that I am exceptional.” 

“That you are, Roman,” Patton laughs, but he sobers up suddenly, now looking worried again. 

“What’s wrong, padre? Tell me your worries and I shall strike them down with my sword!” Roman proclaims loudly in hopes of banning that expression from Patton’s face. The other gives him a small smile before looking over to the stairs. 

“Logan still hasn’t come down. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m worried,” he explains. Roman quickly looks towards the stairs as well, this is the first he’s heard of their nerd not arriving this morning. It wasn’t unusual for Logan to go back upstairs after having his first cup of coffee, opting to get a bit more work done before the rest of them get up. But not coming down at all was rare. A glance towards Virgil shows him that the anxious side is worrying his bottom lip, eyeshadow a bit darker than normal. Roman places both his hands on Patton’s shoulders in a reaffirming grip and smiles at him. 

“I’m sure our nerd just got lost in a book or something. I shall go fetch him at once.” 

“Thank you,” Patton says with a small smile that Roman returns before he heads back up the stairs. Logan’s room was the one furthest away from the common area. He’d always reasoned that he didn’t want any of the noise to travel to his door and Roman could see his point. Logan was the only one of them that stuck to a regulated sleep schedule and was often the first one to retire back upstairs. And sometimes Patton, Virgil and himself could forget to be quiet afterwards so choosing the longer distance was reasonable. Roman finally arrives at the door to the logical side’s room and was about to knock when something catches his eye. Rather it is hard to overlook. Taped to the door is a thin, dark blue folder that stands out against the light brown wood of the door. On the front ‘To Patton, Roman and Virgil’ is written. With furrowed brows, Roman pulls the folder off the door and opens it, scanning the first page before hurrying back downstairs. 

“Guys!” he calls out, halfway down the stairs, apparently interrupting a conversation between the left-behind sides. They don’t look bothered by it however but rather concerned at his sudden re-entrance without the side he was supposed to get. 

“What’s wrong?” Patton asks, voice rising in concern. Roman just hands them the folder. Virgil takes it since Patton seems to be shaking from the nerves and flips it open. The first page was a simple, printed letter that read: 

Good morning fellow sides. 

After the conclusion of yesterday’s discussion, I have decided to finally 

follow through with something I had planned for a while now: 

I am going on vacation. 

In the last few months, following Janus’ acceptance and further involvement 

in our daily lives, the tension in our group has been rising and I must say, 

it figuratively suffocates me. Any attempts to resolve said tension has been 

disapproved of and you continue to disregard my contributions to various 

problems. I cannot work in this environment any longer. I have finished  

Thomas’ schedule for the next two weeks. I did my best to consider your 

and Janus’ previously given advice to ensure that it covers selfcare and  

productivity. If you want to make changes, go ahead but do not complain 

to me if it does not work out as you hoped. I have done my part now. I am 

not sure when I will return but I should not be gone longer than those two 

weeks. Do not summon me unless it is a life-or-death situation. I have  

prepared a place to stay and I am being provided for. I will continue to keep

an eye on Thomas regardless but I do not see any need to appear in person. 

I wish you a pleasant time, 

Logan Logic Sanders 

Silence hung over the three for a few moments. 

“You think he’s pranking us?” Patton finally askes. Roman hums in consideration but Virgil scoffs. 

“Since when is Logan a prankster?” He pulls out the other sheets of paper from the folder. “These are definitely from him; I doubt even Deceit could fake them so accurately.” Truly, the schedule was color-coded and formatted in a manner that was very familiar. Roman pulls the papers out of Virgil’s grasp. He quickly scans it and whistles appreciatively. 

“This really is his best one yet, I must say.” 

“Where do you think he went?” Patton askes, his gaze fixed on the stairs. “He wrote he’s being provided for but what does that even mean?” The other two could immediately tell how worried he was. They exchange a quick glance and Roman puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder. 

“Well, there aren’t many places he could be... Him staying here in the mindscape would defeat the purpose of going on vacation. He could have gone to the dark side but I doubt that, it felt like he’s avoiding Deceit as well and if he’s in the imagination, I should be able to tell but I can’t feel him there...”  

“Where did you find this anyway?” Virgil askes and holds up the folder. 

“It was taped to his door.” 

“So you didn’t actually check his room, right?” Roman brightens. 

“I did not! Great idea, Hot Topic. Let’s go!” He runs back upstairs. 

“How does he have so much energy in the morning?” Virgil groans but he follows after him, Patton in tow. When they arrive upstairs, Logan’s door is wide open and Roman could be heard humming inside. Virgil immediately pales. 

“Princey, what the fu-” He glances at Patton. “-frick are you doing?” he hisses, not crossing the threshold. Roman, who was currently going through the papers on Logan’s desk, shoots him a look. 

“Searching for clues, like you suggested.” 

“I never said that!” 

“You said to check his room!” 

“I meant knock to see if he’s in here, not waltz in and go through his stuff!” 

“Why are you whisper-hissing? Logan’s not here, I already checked his bathroom, closet and under the bed.” 

“Why would you-? Ugh, never mind,” Virgil groans and does cautiously enter the room, followed by Patton who looks around curiously. 

“I haven’t really been in here for ages!” he gasps. Virgil furrows his brows. 

“You go to his room all the time though?” 

“Yeah, sure, to check on him. He doesn’t really invite me in though and I don’t wanna pry...” He takes another look around, this time more apprehensively. “It feels kinda wrong to be in here. Without his permission, I mean.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Virgil exclaims, biting at a nail nervously. “C’mon, we verified he’s not here, let’s go.” 

“Verified? Boy, the nerd’s room’s already getting to you, huh?” Roman scoffs and lays back a few papers he doesn’t find interesting. “And we haven’t found any clues yet, leaving would be a waste.” 

“Roman, we are not here to snoop through Logan’s stuff. We just wanted to confirm that he is not here.” Patton scolds, both he and Virgil are already back by the door. Roman rolls his eyes. 

“Hold on, I’m almost done. How is it that I’m the one who’s been in here the longest but I’m the least affected by the room?” he mumbles a bit loudly to not be intentional while checking around the desk. 

“No, Sherlock Homeinvader, we’re leaving,” Virgil insists, presses the folder he was still holding on to in Patton’s hands and goes over to him to drag him back himself as Roman dramatically gasps. 

“What do we have here?” he asks even more dramatically and bends down, grabbing something out of what appears to be Logan’s trash can. Virgil nose wrinkles. 

“Disgusting, dude.” 

“Relax, it’s just a bunch of paper. Well, paper and this!” He holds up a container. A very familiar container. Pickled Poo Logs, Remus’ favored snack. Easily recognizable by his face at the top, though there are dicks doodled over the rest of the label. Virgil immediately snatches it out of his hand. 

“Remus was here?” Patton hesitantly comes over to take a look himself. “Maybe Logan was just curious about it? He gets like that sometimes, you know?” His nervous tone sabotages his attempt at lightening the mood, especially since he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. 

“With dicks drawn all over it? No, Nerdy Wolverine would have asked for a clean one,” Roman comments and turns the case over in his hands, inspecting it. 

“You think Remus kidnapped him?” Virgil asks, panicked. 

“Considering the folder, unlikely. Oh, there’s the room’s effect!” Roman hums, pleased. “No, it is unlikely that Logan left involuntarily but he may have been tricked. Remus is an idiot but he’s not totally stupid. And he kind of fixated on our braincell after his introductory video.”  

“What has Remus done now?” calls an exasperated voice from the door. All three of them spin around to see Janus leaning against the doorframe, inspecting his gloved fingers with a small smirk on his lips. Virgil growls at him immediately and Janus rolls his eyes in response. “Oh, yes, please do keep acting like a guard dog, Virgil, it is so becoming of you.” Before he could snap back, Patton lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He continues glaring but falls silent.

“Hello Janus, what brings you here?” Patton asks, trying to sound cheerful but even to Roman and Virgil it sounds forced. It doesn’t fool Janus for even a second.

“I went to the kitchen to make my morning cup of tea and no one else was there as usual so I decided to come up here for no reason at all.” His smirk stays however he seems to eye Patton very carefully who laughs nervously in response.

“Oh, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried, merely… curious. You lot seldomly break your morning routine, especially Logan, so seeing him in particular absent from this group despite us being all gathered here in his room, I do wonder what is going on. Care to enlighten me?”

“We don’t care to. This is none of your business, leave Deceit!” Virgil practically spits. Janus tuts and shakes his head.

“On the contrary, dear Virgil, if this does indeed involve Remus, it is entirely my business. He has been acknowledged by Thomas, not accepted. It is still a part of my duty to reign him in from time to time. To make sure he does not hurt Thomas’ mental health excessively.”

“Oh yeah, you did a great job of that before the wedding,” Roman scoffs. Janus glares at him.

“In that instance I let him looser than normal precisely to protect Thomas’ mental health in the long run. He was pushing himself too much, acknowledging Remus’ presence was supposed to help him clear his head a little,” he hisses and Virgil snorts.

“That worked out so well.”

“Sssssshhut up!”

“Kiddos! Please, let’s not fight, we have more pressing things to deal with right now!” Virgil and Roman grumble but don’t interject. Janus looks defensive, still glaring at the two of them. “Logan is missing,” Patton continues. “He left us this note but it’s so unlike him, we aren’t sure if we should trust it. While we checked his room, Roman found one of Remus’ deodorants, so we suspect he might be involved somehow.” Apparently deciding to abandon his staring match with Virgil, Janus walks over to Patton and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand the situation. Could I look at the note and the deodorant, please?”

“Oh, sure,” Patton says with a light blush and hands over the folder. Janus quietly thanks him before thumbing through the pages. The letter he looks at last.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed warn him about his habit to overwork himself a few times recently. If he is taking a break, then I am more inclined to let him do so.”

“We don’t want to stop him from taking a break!” Patton hastily clarifies. “We’re just worried about the how. We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. And if Remus is involved, I don’t know how much of a break he is really getting…” He trails off at the end, staring at his feet. Janus hums and quickly walks over to Roman to pluck the deodorant out of his hands.

“Hey!” The prince protests, but Janus doesn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he looks over the case in his hand. Once he was finished, he drops it back into Roman’s hands who squawks at him offendedly.

“From recent conversations, it did seem like Remus was getting rather attached to Logan and I don’t think they have a bad relationship. It might very well be that Logan asked the Duke for his help in this matter.”

“As if,” Virgil pouts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that himself. Janus ignores him.

“But if you feel like you need to check then I do have an idea where to look.” Patton beams at him.

“Really? Could you take us? Right now??”

“No way am I going anywhere with that snake!” Roman yells. “He might just be leading us into a trap!” Janus gives him an unimpressed look.

“And why would I do that? My job is to make sure Thomas’ mental health is in good shape. Getting all of you injured, or whatever you imagine I would want to do to you, would be nothing but counterproductive.”

“Like I believe that!”

“Regardless,” Janus says to brush off Roman’s protest who in turn only seems to get angrier, “I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. If the two are where I think they are, then you have no chance of getting there without a guide.”

“I can navigate Remus’ side of the Imagination just as well as my own, I do not need your help, Jack the Fibber!”

“I do not doubt that my prince. However, that place in particular is designed to keep unwanted visitors out. I doubt you would even find it, not to mention getting inside.”

“And what place would that be?” Virgil hisses before Roman can start yelling again.

“The library.”

“Remus… has a library?” Patton asks, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, he doesn’t. The fact that you do not know about it just proves my point. It is one of the most fortified buildings Remus has ever created. The layout constantly changes, there are traps and monsters roaming the halls.”

“If the layout changes, then why do you think you could take us there?” Patton interjects.

“Because there is one path that leads to the actual library within, and I mean only one path. Make one wrong turn or otherwise go off course and you will not find your way out easily. I got lost only once and I do not recommend it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Roman challenges, head raised high. Janus seems amused by his stubborn antagonism.

“I do not care if you believe me or not. You are the ones that want to check on Logan. I am only offering to take you since I had planned to go there soon anyway. And I need to see what Remus is doing from time to time. You can come along or not, it is totally. Up. To. You.” Janus emphasizes the last words by poking Roman lightly in the chest after each syllable, all the while smirking up at him. Roman continues to glare but he couldn’t quite repress the slight flush of his cheeks at Janus’ proximity. The snakelike side laughs lightly before making his way back to the door.

“I will leave after breakfast. You do what you think is right,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving the others in silence.

“He has got to be tricking us, right?” Virgil growls after a few seconds. Roman nods in agreement but Patton looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think so. He has no reason to.”

“He’s Deceit, Patton. It’s all he knows.”

“Look, I know you both had your differences with him and I’m still adjusting too, but Janus is an integral part of Thomas, we cannot deny that anymore. I am sure he does not want anything truly bad to happen to any of us, so if this is a trick then it is probably only a small prank.” Virgil and Roman share a look of disbelief but Patton doesn’t stop there. “And besides, what other options do we have? Sit around and hope that Logan is truly okay? Or comb through Remus’ side on our own? Your powers barely work over there Roman, and the place is not small, right?”

“Right,” Roman admits with a sigh after a few seconds of silence. “And I am worried about Nerdy Wolverine, if we don’t do anything about this, I will go stir crazy, so I guess I can try and trust that snake for a bit.”

“Thank you, Ro!” Patton pulls him into a hug, beaming. Roman chuckles and pats his back.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you, padre.” He turns to Virgil. “Are you going to come along?”

“…Fine,” Virgil grumbles, still clearly unhappy about the situation. “But if it turns out that he’s up to something, I am totally going to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, Emo Nightmare.”

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

The track through Remus’ side of the Imagination hadn’t been pleasant. The atmosphere was tense and Patton’s attempts to lighten the mood didn’t cheer anyone up. Roman and Virgil did their best to ignore Janus and the deceitful side himself accepted their stubbornness quietly. Only Patton really talked, though even he gave up after a while. Thankfully, they didn’t come across any of Remus’ monsters but the landscape they had to track through was nightmarish enough and won’t be discussed here. Now they stood before their apparent goal.

“This… is it?” Roman asks, doubtfully. The building in front of them is a rather cliché-looking mansion from horror games. It is a wide, stone structure with two floors that seems to have high ceilings. It’s dark and intimidating looking though on closer inspection, the construction style seems to change randomly. A different kind of stone here, another window frame there. Apparently, Remus stitched together different buildings and haphazardly added details wherever it pleased him. For example, the house of Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas is sticking out of the roof, completely intact but just… there.

What stands out most though, is the glass dome further back on the building. Not because it is the most impressive but because it’s the only thing that is illuminated, emitting a soft yellow glow. All the other windows are pitch black.

“Not satisfied, Roman?” Janus smirks.

“Well, yes. I expected more from my brother’s so-called masterpiece!”

“I definitely called it his masterpiece,” Janus says as he rolls his eyes. “And the interior is the more impressive part. The exterior Remus changes every so often when he gets new inspiration. I think the last remodeling came after Thomas researched that giant lady and the game she’s in.”

“You mean the one you stole your skirt look from?” Virgil smiles, mischievously.

“Yes, because my look wasn’t almost finished by the time Thomas found out about her!” Janus hisses at him with a glare. Virgil shows him his tongue.

“Kiddos, please stop. We’re here for Logan, let’s concentrate!” Patton tries to encourage teamwork but again is not really successful.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil scoffs and glares at Janus one last time before turning back to the building in front of them.

“Let’s just get this over with. Remus’ side always gives me chills,” Roman complains.

“Very well.” Janus adjusts his gloves before clearing his throat. “Once we enter, as I haven’t told you before, there is one path we need to follow, so I need you to listen to my instructions carefully and let me take the lead. I know it’s very hard for you to go along with other people’s plan but trust me on this one, Roman.” He grins over at the prince whose face is turning red in anger. Before he can explode, Patton steps in.

“No provocation from you either, Janus! If we have to rely on you as you say, then make an effort to be reliable in return!” He leans close to Janus and pouts, giving him his best I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-know-you-can-do-better look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop as well.” Janus waves him off. “The instructions can be stupidly specific sometimes, at one point we will have to stick to one side of a corridor, for example, but there will also be traps, distractions and monsters. Though – and make sure to remember that – nothing truly dangerous can access the path. So even if something comes charging at us, I need you to stay calm and not run around like headless chickens. I will not save you from your own stupid decisions.”

“Oh yes, so trustworthy. Thank you greatly for your generosity.” Roman rolls his eyes and Patton shots him a slight glare, making him huff but refrain from further comments. Janus ignores him completely.

“Our goal is the dome and usually it should take not over half an hour to arrive there.” Now Roman looks sceptic for a different reason.

“If we just need to get to the dome then can’t we just climb the building and get in from the roof?”

“Oh yes, what a great plan, I can’t believe I have never thought of that before!” Janus exclaims, hand on his heart but quickly drops the act. “The interior and exterior aren’t connected like that. Since Remus shifts the inside around as much, no window or door – other than the main entrance – connect to a specific room. It will just drop you randomly somewhere in the mansion. And as I’ve stated before, that is not something you want to happen. So no, we can’t do this like a heist movie.” Roman looks angry again but doesn’t comment. Patton pats him on the shoulder (which only seems to sour his mood more) before addressing Janus.

“Alright, we will follow your lead.” he says with a smile. Janus nods at him stiffly before moving towards the front door without another word, the others following behind him with tense expressions (though Patton tries, and fails, to hide his).

The door to the mansion is made of a heavy, red wood that Janus pushes open without hesitation. Behind it lies… a rather normal looking entrance hall. There is a long carpet that leads to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the decoration is tasteful. Or rather, it used to be. As impressive as the hall is, it is rotting away. There’s dust everywhere, as well as spiderwebs and the air is thick and unpleasant.

“This place has so much potential if my brother bothered to take care of it,” Roman huffs as he looks around. Janus doesn’t respond but instead gives more instructions.

“Follow behind me in a line. And please do walk next to each other, that wouldn’t be risky at all.” After saying that, he moves toward the back of the hall, left of the staircase where a door is situated. “Behind here is where the dangerous path starts. Be. Very. Careful,” Janus stresses, looking back at the others who had followed him.

“Will do!” Patton responds, with faux cheerfulness. Roman and Virgil sigh but they do line up. Their marching order is Janus, Patton, Virgil and Roman in the back. The first few hallways and rooms they pass aren’t all that bad. They have a few disgusting gimmicks – bleeding walls, gooey carpets, a mirror that insults you when you stand before it – but nothing too severe. The first truly shocking room (though it really should have been expected, in hindsight) they come across is…

“Is this the playroom from Fifty Shades of Grey?” Virgil asks after they all simply stared at the contents of the room for a few moments.

“Thomas hasn’t even seen that movie!” Roman exclaims, very red in the face. He is also holding Patton’s glasses to protect his purity while Virgil holds his hand while he is effectively blind. Janus shrugs his shoulders.

“The scene has been referenced in enough videos and interviews that we have a basic understanding of what happened in it. And that might have been where Remus got the idea from, but he definitely modified it to be more to his taste. It is a room for BDSM though.”

“How… How do you know that?” Roman asks, still very much embarrassed.

“… Just be grateful that there are no people in here today,” is all Janus is willing to admit before heading towards the door that allows them to continue. The corridor behind it is dimly lit and a few lights even flicker. Janus leads them on confidently, the others follow him back in line and with Patton’s glasses returned to their owner. However, the creepy feeling of the hallway has Patton continue to cling onto Virgil’s hand, who is the side of the group most comfortable with horror. Roman has one hand on his sheathed sword – that he had strapped to his side before they entered Remus’ side of the imagination – and the other has a tight grip on Virgil’s hoodie. The anxious side isn’t very happy about how the two clinging to him limits his movement, but he can understand their worries, so he lets it slide.

“Did you hear that?” Patton squeaks out and for a moment Virgil doesn’t know what he means before a thump echoes down the hallway. They freeze, bringing Roman to a stop behind them.

“What’s wro- “

“Shhhhhh!” The rumbling becomes louder and now Janus notices that they had stopped following. He, unlike Roman can guess as to why so he just waits ahead in slight annoyance. He had warned them before entering, he won’t tell them again. By now Roman had caught on and he grips the sword tightly, ready to draw.

Ahead of them, a monster comes around the corner. It has the body of a gorilla and walks on all fours, but its head is that of a snake and a pair of wings grow from its back. That would have been enough to scare Patton, maybe even Roman, but the most noticeable and gruesome attribute of the monster were its injuries. Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of zombie, since there are large chunks of flesh missing from its gorilla body, other patches lacked fur and again others ooze a liquid that may have been blood if it wasn’t so obviously sticky.

The snake head isn’t fairing much better. It misses some scales and there are a few black spots that might have been burn marks. One of the wings seems undamaged though its partner looks all the worse for it. There are hardly any feathers left and the bones that are now left exposed seem broken in a few places and hang limply in a way that looks very, very wrong.

The monster spots them easily, makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a mix of a hiss and a roar and charges at them. Roman curses quietly and quickly pushes Virgil and Patton behind him. Janus looks unbothered, he is leaning against the wall and waits for it to be over. The monster gains more and more speed (considering the length of the corridor, it doesn’t make sense how long the charge takes), sprinting at them, until – oh so suddenly – it collides with something and crashes to the ground. Roman, Virgil and Patton stare at it with open mouths.

“I told you: as long as we stick to the path, nothing can hurt us,” Janus explains nonchalantly before resuming his way down the corridor, towards the beast that twitches on the ground. The others stare at it a moment longer before they hurry after Janus.

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

The next few corridors and rooms were not all that difficult. One hallway was filled with spike traps that they had to avoid, and they passed three different torture rooms, all with different equipment. Janus explained that Remus liked to separate them by era and country, so he had, for example, one room filled with torture instruments used in the witch hunts in Germany from 1550 to 1650. And while they weren’t nice to look at, the rooms were empty and so it was left to their own imaginations as to how the instruments might have been used.

The next impactful incident happens in a corridor with a ceiling that falls down and crushes everyone beneath it. To avoid it, Janus told them to stick as close to the right wall of the hallway as possible. Their pace is significantly slower this way but none of them wanted to be squished so they carefully set one foot in front of the other.

“We’re almost there,” Janus calls to the others. The passage isn’t all that long but with the literally looming threat, it sure feels like it.

“Pat, you’re not stepping right,” Virgil hisses and pulls him more to the side.

“Sorry!” the moral side squeaked. “I think my glasses are smudged a bit. It makes it hard to see.”

“Oh, sorry, padre. That might have been me when I held them for you,” Roman apologizes.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I do it myself all the time.”

“Well, better clean them before one of your feet get crushed. Everyone stop!” Virgil commands and though he seems annoyed, Janus complies. Patton gives them an apologetic smile before taking his glasses off to wipe them clean with his shirt as best as he can.

Unable to hold still, Roman shuffles a bit on the ground and that’s when he makes a mistake. One of his feet lands too far away and a click comes from the ceiling. With a whoosh and a bang, part of the ceiling comes down. Virgil startles so bad that he lunges forward a bit, upsetting Patton’s balance and sending him to the floor, taking Janus with him. Thankfully, they don’t trigger another trap, but Patton’s glasses fall to the ground and skitter down the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asks, frantically, moving to help Patton up.

“I’m fine, but my glasses…”

“Do not worry, I will get them back for you!” Roman proclaims before starting to climb over Virgil and Patton still on the floor to get to the front.

“Watch it, Prince Douche!”

“I am, Emo Bitch!”

“Language!”

Roman manages to get past both of them and Janus before the latter grips his arm to stop him.

“Don’t!” he hisses. Roman eyes him skeptically.

“And why not, oh Great Deceiver?” he mocks.

“Because we need to make a right here! The glasses are off the path!” Understanding blooms on Roman’s face and he looks back towards the glasses, a few feet away from the crossing they need to take.

“I can’t just grab them real quick and come back?”

“No. Once you’re off the path you can’t just turn around. I doubt you’ll even be able to still see us then.”

“It’s okay,” Patton calls from the back. He and Virgil are back on their feet. “I have a spare pair in my room, if you guide me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Again, I’m so sorry, Padre.”

“Please stop apologizing, it’s really fine, promise!” Patton smiles but his eyes are obviously not focusing on Roman and it’s apparent just how little he can see like this.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Virgil mumbles and leads him forward and into the crossing where they are safe from more falling ceilings.

“It’s not fine,” Janus suddenly speaks up. All eyes turn to him (or where Patton thinks he is). “We’re almost at the library but Remus, as charming as he is, of course made the last stretch the most annoying. Most of the time it’s a ladder we will need to climb with traps all over them to try and get you to fall over and over and over again. I can warn you about the ones I spot but if Patton can’t see them himself, he won’t be able to avoid them properly. We need to get his glasses somehow…”

The three with working eyes pondered for a bit before Roman speaks up.

“I think Virgil might be able to reach if he lays on the ground…”

“Why me?!”

“You’re the tallest.”

“By a few inches at best!”

“Well, those few inches might just be what we need here,” Janus chimes in and Virgil glares at him.

“C’mon, Beetlejuice, you want to get out of here, right? And we can’t leave Patton behind.”

“Really, kiddos, it’s fine! I’ll manage… somehow.”

“Yes, keep saying that, it’s sooo helpful!”

“Don’t take it out on him!”

“Just stop it!” Roman yells over the chaos. “Virgil please. I’ll hold on to your foot, it’ll be fine!” Virgil eyes him for a moment before he sighs.

“Fine but you use that,” he taps against Roman’s sash, “to secure my foot. I don’t trust your milky hands.”

“Milky?!”

“Ugh, just do it!” Janus groans and is met with two glares for his effort but both Roman and Virgil get to work. With the red band firmly bound around Virgil’s shoe and Roman’s hand, the former carefully lies on the floor. Just as he is about to start robbing over to the glasses, a door down the hallway opens and a figure emerges. Virgil stares at it in disbelief.

“Why Pyramid Head?!” Indeed, the creature now slowly making its way toward them, knife dragging across the floor, was the iconic monster from Silent Hill 2. Janus is the first to regain his composure.

“At least he’s slow! Quickly grab the glasses before he gets over there!”

“Easy for you to say- “

“Stop arguing, please,” Patton begs from his position against the wall of the next corridor they would traverse. Virgil grumbles under his breath but makes his way forward. And so does Pyramid Head.

It’s like watching a (very slow) head-to-head race toward the finish line. Robbing forward on his stomach, Virgil is about as fast as Pyramid Head’s walking speed. Inch by inch, Virgil gets closer to the reach of the gigantic knife still dragging along the floor. The creature doesn’t even need to get to him, just close enough to swing its weapon.

Virgil’s ankle leaves the path as he gets close enough to try and reach the glasses. And if Pyramid Head used its blade right now, it might have a chance to hit but still it moves forward, into a position where it is more likely to strike true.

Virgil’s fingertips hit the frame. Just a little bit more. Half of his foot is still within the barrier. Roman has a firm grip on the sash. Virgil’s hand closes around the glasses and Pyramid Head raises his knife to swing down.

“Got them!”

“Janus! Help me pull him back!” Roman calls as he holds Virgil’s shoe with his tied-up hand and places the other on his ankle. Immediately, the other is beside him, grabs onto his arms and pulls. And not a second too late. The knife lands where Virgil’s head had been moments before, and Roman and Janus fall onto their asses while Virgil is trying to catch his breath and to not go into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“What happened?? Are you okay?” Patton calls over, worriedly.

Roman lets out a breathless, unbelieving laugh and collapses onto his back, the adrenaline rushing through him. Which turned out to be good because as soon as his head hits the ground, a click comes from the ceiling once again.

“Shit-!” Quickly Roman rolls to the side before his head is flattened by the trap. He must’ve moved within its range by an inch. Janus stares at him in disbelief.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m too fabulous to die.” The ridiculous response got Virgil to laugh and forget his panic for long enough to calm down.

“Guys?” Again, Patton tries to get their attention.

“We’re all fine, Pat. And I’ve got your glasses, hold on.” Virgil climbs to his feet, wipes the lenses on his hoodie to clean them as best he could before heading over to Patton and pushing them onto his nose. “How’s that?” Patton doesn’t answer, just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Um… Sure. No problem,” Virgil mumbles nervously. Patton gives him a smile before looking over to the other two that are in the process of standing up. On the other side of the barrier, Pyramid Head has lost interest and was now moving away again. The sides pay him no mind.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Roman comes over to Virgil and Patton with a grin, Janus on his heels.

“Speak for yourself, princey. I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“I’m having so much fun with this. Let’s go, sadly, we’re almost there.” Janus takes the lead once again and the others follow. They pass through one more room, a laboratory of sorts with lots of blood on most of the surfaces (thankfully, the floor is mostly clean), before they enter what seems to be an elevator shaft. And indeed, the only way forward is a ladder.

“How surprising,” Janus mutters under his breath before turning back toward the others. “As I’ve said before, this part is not really dangerous, but pretty annoying. There will be traps to try and get you to fall but even if you do, you will fall slowly. Remus implemented this more as a prank than anything else. I’ll tell you about what I spot but we may need several tries.”

“Okay, we’ll trust you to not let us down,” Patton says with a wink. Janus stares at him with a blank look.

“That was terrible.” Then he starts to climb, Patton after him, then Virgil and Roman is in the back again.

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

They do indeed need more than five tries to get to the top. It was especially annoying that Patton fell for the same trap twice, requiring the rest to wait where they were until he climbed up again. Their arms are gonna be sore tomorrow for sure. But they had finally made it.

The ladder ended in another corridor but this one was clean and wonderfully decorated in greens and silver. Portraits line the walls, most of them of Remus himself, but there is one of Janus and one of both together. Most peculiar are two others however. One shows Remus grinning, arm out to the side, probably hugging someone but the other half of the painting is missing. The second is simply an empty frame.

“Self-centered much?” Roman scoffs.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t have at least a dozen different self-portraits in your castle, Prince of Narcissists,” Virgil retorts. Janus doesn’t pay any attention to the banter or the pictures for that matter. He strides ahead with purpose. Patton watches him in concern, but he feels like this isn’t a moment to pry.

At the end of the corridor is an enormous double door, also in green and silver. The handles, however, are made of gold.

“Does he have some sort of obsession with Slytherin or something?” Again, it’s Roman commenting. Janus hisses at him in disdain.

“For your information, he is a Gryffindor, same as you. And his second choice would be Ravenclaw. No, green and silver just happen to be his favorite colors.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “What made you so cranky?”

“Please, keep talking.” Janus rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.” He grabs the handle on one side and pushes, Patton quickly helps him with the other. Slowly the heavy material gives away and swings open. And suddenly their vision is filled with green.

In front of them is a jungle and as they take the first steps in, the humid air hits them. Birds can be heard singing somewhere but none of them are able to spot them. They stand in a clearing, although the tree line that surrounds them is only about ten feet from them. The trees themselves tower over them, their leaves lush and green, vines hanging between them. The ground is littered with bushes and plants and only one way seems to lead further inward, its stones wide and beautiful. As they look up into the sky, they can see the glass of the dome incasing them, the sun beaming down outside. Which was weird since when they had been in front of the building the weather had been quite dreary.

“Are we… really in the right place?” Patton asks, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the serenity of their surroundings by being too loud.

“Yes, we are. If you look closely, you can see a few shelves on the far side of the dome.” Janus points upward and the others follow his line of sight. Indeed, quite a ways away, they could see some brown structures following the curve of the dome.

“How are the books not falling?” Virgil questions, his eyes squinted to make out anything in the first place. Roman snorts.

“This is the imagination, Doubtful Central. Remus doesn’t want them to fall, so they don’t fall.” Virgil sticks out his tongue at the prince’s condescending tone. Patton lightly scolds them to stop fighting. Janus clears his throat.

“We need to track along the path for a bit until we reach a river. Behind it is the library.”

“And hopefully Logan,” Patton sighs. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is, padre. You know our nerd, he isn’t easy to beat,” Roman jokes, his hand squeezing Patton’s shoulder in support. Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!”

“You wish, princey.”

“Kiddos…” Patton almost sounds defeated and Janus pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“He used to be like that with Remus, too. It’ll be fine.” Patton nods and gives Janus a grateful smile. He, in turn, gives a nod in acknowledgment back and turns to back to the bickering two. “I hate to interrupt you but one more warning. Watch your feet in there. There are some books that have gone… wild.” The others stare at him a moment.

“He stole the Monster Book of Monsters, didn’t he?”

“… He created something similar at least.”

With a groan from Virgil, the group sets out and follows the path. Even though it is made of stone, there are still quite a few branches and vines to dodge. The jungle isn’t quiet either, various sounds resounding in the air. Rustling in the bushes, noises that might belong to a kind of monkey, the birds’ continuous songs. A collage of different sounds that is almost overwhelming.

Roman keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword in case one of the animals decide to come their way, his eyes scanning the trees continuously. Patton clutches one of Virgil’s hands in his own, both also checking their surroundings nervously. Meanwhile, Janus’ eyes are fixated on the ground.

After they had walked for a few minutes, the tension drops a bit. Most of the jungle’s inhabitants seem to go out of their way on their own without hostility. In that moment, a bush on the right side rustles suddenly, then one to the left and unbelievably quickly, two books shoot out of the greenery and try attacking the groups feet. Patton screams and jumps into Virgil’s arms whose eyeshadow turned a very deep black.

“Just give them a good kick, that usually scares them off!” Janus calls over the ruckus Patton is making, mostly directed at Roman who had unsheathed his sword. He is trying to stab the books, but their binding is quite resistant, and he can’t really get a good hit in. As he hears the call however, he shoots a quick look over to Janus, who has taken a few steps away to protect himself, before swinging his leg with all his might, hitting one book directly into the spine and sending it flying into the canopy.

The second one snarls and turns its attention from Virgil, whose shoe it had been trying to chew through, to Roman, and (again quicker than you would expect from a thing with no legs) darts toward him, in a zig-zag pattern so it wouldn’t suffer the same fate as its companion.

“Shit,” Roman curses, earning a weak ‘Language!’ from Patton who was calming down now that the book wasn’t focused on him and Virgil anymore. Roman tries to land another hit but the book is too fast and lunges forward, most likely to bite him in the leg.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Virgil’s heel digs into the cover, throwing the book back down to the ground. It whimpers and quickly disappears back into the bushes. With heavy breaths does Virgil set his foot back down, Patton still in his arms. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Hot Topic! You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs while Patton climbs down, “fight-or-flight, remember?” Roman laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Right, right.” They smile at each other for a moment before Patton speaks up.

“Where’s Janus?” Surprised, the three quickly take a look around. The deceitful side was nowhere in sight.

“I knew that slimy snake could not be trusted!” Roman yells angrily. Virgil has a similarly dark look. Patton doesn’t look convinced.

“Maybe he just went ahead? It’s not like there are any other paths we can follow, so he could have just gone ahead to scout for more bad books?”

“You really are too trusting, padre,” Roman scoffs. “But you are right, there is only one path to follow, might as well take it. Turning around now would be pointless anyway.” He and Virgil start walking forward. Patton nervously gnaws at his lip, not liking how this is turning out at all.

They do find Janus not all that far up ahead. He is crouching down in front of a bush, apparently muttering to himself. The path had winded at bit and with the branches in the way they hadn’t been able to spot him earlier. Still, Roman continues to be mad and stomps over to him.

“So now is the point where you try to abandon us?? Just what is your game, snake?!” Janus looks over his shoulder, as calmly as ever.

“Abandoning you was definitely my intention,” he scoffs before turning back around, reaching for something, and standing back up after. When he then turns to face them fully, he is holding a long, yellow snake in his arms that is winding itself around his torso. “This is Jake, I used to keep him in my room, but he took a liking to the jungle, so I let him live here, most of the time at least.” Jake stops his climbing and watches them for a moment, his tongue flickering out.

“Aww!” Patton coos before stepping a bit closer. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, he doesn’t bite. Most of the time.” But the moral side has already stopped listening, instead stroking the snake’s head which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Roman, who had been a bit stunned at the sudden animal in Janus’ hands, regains his composure.

“So why did you disappear then?” he demands. Janus shrugs.

“I figured you could handle two books with no actual teeth and Jake called out to me, so I went ahead to find him. There is only one path after all, I doubted you could manage to get lost.” Roman is practically fuming but Patton interjects before he can blow up.

“You can speak with him??”

“Yes. You really think Thomas modeled me after a snake and didn’t give me the ability to speak Parseltongue?”

“Cool!” Patton whispers, staring at Janus with wide eyes, who looks a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He clears his throat.

“Anyway. Jake tells me that Remus is indeed here. And he’s not alone.” Immediately, Virgil’s gaze snaps to him.

“Logan?”

“Most likely. Jake has never met him before, but the description fits.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.” Janus shrugs.

“He’s just a snake. He doesn’t lie to me, but he could be wrong.”

“We should hurry,” Patton says with determination, pulling his hand back. Jake hisses in displeasure from losing the scritches he was receiving. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Come back with me today and I’ll scratch you wherever you like.” That seems to please the snake since he gives another, smaller hiss and continues his winding around Janus until he finds a comfortable position.

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

They continue along the path for another few minutes without incident. Some bushes rustled but no more books tried to attack them. Finally, they could hear the sound of rushing water. The river must be near. Unconsciously, they increase their pace until they end up before a cliff, the path just suddenly ending there. The cliff isn’t all that high, only a few feet away from the rushing stream. Some type of fish jumping out of its waters every now and again. The jungle continued to the left and right of them, no bridge in sight.

“Um… How do we get across?” Patton asks, eyeing the drop. Janus takes a second to answer, not focused on the below but the beyond.

“We don’t,” he finally answers.

“What’s that supposed to mean??” Virgil demands, yet again glaring at him. Janus shrugs while he pats Jake’s head, eyes still focused ahead of them.

“This place is one of Remus’ most treasured places and there are times when even he wants to be left alone. If he doesn’t want anyone to come here, he simply removes the bridge. There is nothing we can do.”

“So we made this entire trip for nothing?!”

“I wouldn’t say that. Look.” Janus points ahead. The others reluctantly follow his gaze. None of them have really focused on the other side yet, too preoccupied with trying to go further.

A few more trees stand along the cliff but way less dense than on their side. The path continues for a few more feet before it ends at the steps of a lightly raised wooden platform, the true start of the library. Behind a reading area, rows and rows of bookcases tower, each row bigger than the one before it until the ones merging with the wall that reach way, way higher, following the curve of the dome and still somehow letting the natural light from outside shine through.

What Janus was referring to, however, is the aforementioned seating area. Among the few tables and chairs, are some sofas, beanbags, stools, and various other seating opportunities, all in different styles and colors. Because of course Remus would never settle on one theme alone. Only one of those seats was currently occupied though.

Lying on a chaise longue, turned towards them, with a book in his hand and a steaming cup on a small table beside him, is Logan. Seemingly without a worry, their nerd is relaxed and reading. Without looking away from the pages, he reaches over, takes the cup and sips whatever drink it contains before placing it back down without a second though. It seems like their worrying had been unnecessary.

“He looks fine, right?” Virgil says, though he sounds rather nervous, and he raises his thumb to bite at the nail. Patton instinctively stops him.

“That’s good, right?” he adds, also not sounding quite convinced. Janus watches their reactions without commenting. He hadn’t been worried about the logical side, he just wanted to avoid the others working themselves up over the next few days with their wild theories.

“It is too early to say yet!” Roman proclaims. “That could just be an illusion to fool us. To let our guard down! I will not leave until I spoke with him in person.”

“Nobody said anything about leaving though?” Virgil mutters. Roman ignores him.

“But we can’t reach him,” Patton objects. “How do you wanna do that?”

“Hmm…” Roman hums and takes another look at the raging water below them. “It’s not that far across. If I jump far enough, I’m sure I could make it. And I’m an excellent climber and swimmer!”

“I would advise against that,” Janus speaks up, Roman immediately eyeing him suspiciously.

“And why is that? Huh?”

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed you would be able to recognize piranhas when you see them.” Quickly, Roman’s eyes flickered back to the river and the fish still jumping out of it occasionally. “I’m also pretty sure Remus put some sharks in there just because he could. And I mean the bloodthirsty kind.” Patton’s face is now white as chalk and Virgil had a firm grip on Roman’s sleeve.

“Fine, fine!” the prince exclaims. “No swimming, I get it!” He gestures widely and Virgil lets go of him, turning away, his ears pink in embarrassment. “Then I guess we have no other choice!”

“And what choice would that be?” Janus asks, eyebrow raised. Roman grins at him before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling at the top of his lungs:

“LOGAN! OVER HERE! HEY! ACROSS THE RIVER!” The other three slap their hands over their ears, glaring at the prince. Roman doesn’t quiet down however, until Logan obviously takes note of them. Then he switches to waving widely. Janus rubs his temples; he has had about enough for today. Patton joins in on the waving though less enthusiastically. Virgil buries his hands in his pockets and shrinks back.

Logan does not look happy to see them. Not that they could make out much from the distance in terms of facial expressions, but he had gone stiff once he realized what was happening. He bookmarks his page before setting the book down and stands up. He turns away for a moment and Janus thinks he can hear him calling out to Remus, but the rushing of the water makes it hard to be sure. Afterwards, Logan makes his way over to them, down the steps and toward the edge of the cliff where he stops. Now they could make out the frown on his face more clearly.

“What are you doing here?” he calls over, sounding displeased. Roman hesitates to answer because of his tone, so Patton speaks up instead.

“We were worried about you, kiddo! You just up and vanished and we didn’t know where to!”

“I am aware, that was intentional. Did you not find the folder?”

“We did, but we weren’t really sure if we could trust it,” Virgil explains. Having to yell over the sound of rushing water quickly became annoying.

“What do you mean, you weren’t sure if you could trust it?” Logan frown deepens but before one of them could answer, Remus appears behind him suddenly.

“Boo!” he yells, grinning all the while. Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t react further. Roman stiffens, Patton bites his lips and Virgil buries deeper into his hoodie in displeasure. Janus is standing to the side, petting Jake, and acting like this situation doesn’t involve him.

Remus cackles at their reactions before saying something to Logan and summoning what appears to be a soundboard. He lowers a few regulators and immediately their surroundings quiet down. The river now sounds distant, like the cliff just became a few miles deeper than before, the rustling of the leaves falls quiet, as do the birds. The surreal situation stuns all of them for a moment.

“There! That’s better, right?”

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan says before turning back to the others, not having to yell anymore. “Now please continue your explanation of why you did not heed my instructions?”

“Well, um…” Patton tries to find the right words, but before he can, Janus speaks up.

“Remus, please unmute your brother.” Everyone turns to look at Roman whose face is red and seemingly trying to yell but no sound comes out. Quickly all eyes turn back to Remus who is pouting.

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t want them to continue assuming that you kidnapped our dear Logan over there, than you might want to consider not annoying them, yes,” Janus shrugs, apparently not really caring whether Roman gets his voice back or not. Logan raises an eyebrow and shifts his focus back toward his fellow light sides.

“You assume I was kidnapped?”

“It all happened so suddenly; we didn’t know what to think!” Patton tries to explain, eyes jumping between Logan, Roman and Remus. “Please give him his voice back,” he begs after a moment of Logan glaring at them, obviously not happy with the answer.

“But-!” Remus starts to whine before Logan puts a hand on his arm and in a low tone says: “It will only make this take even longer. Please just do it so we can get this over with?”

“Ugh, fine!” Remus groans before flicking one regulator back up but not to full volume.

“You stinking rat, I’ll run you through with my sword!” Roman yells, or at least tries to, only managing to raise his voice a little louder than his normal speaking tone. He glares at his brother when he realizes this, who flips him off in return.

“Stop fighting, kiddos, please.”

“He started it!” Roman protests but Patton just shrugs.

“And we came here without permission. Plus, we’re here to talk to Logan, not to antagonize Remus.” The prince clicks his tongue but doesn’t say any more. Remus laughs.

“Yes, listen to your Daddy, Ro-bro! Or you might get spanked later!” Logan squeezes his arm that he was still holding on to and frowns at him.

“You stop starting fights as well, Rem. I just want them to leave.”

“You know how to shut me up,” Remus grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Logan simply gives him an unimpressed stare. After a few seconds, he drops the grin and sighs. “Fine, fine. You deal with them, and I’ll go play with Bruce.” He summons his tentacles before diving into the river below. Patton gasps.

“Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine. It’s his realm so nothing he creates here will do him harm unless he wants it to,” Roman reassures, almost too quiet. Regulating his volume is going to be hard for a bit and he already looks annoyed by it. Patton nods at his reassurance before turning back to Logan.

“Where were we, kiddo?” The logical side, who had also followed Remus’ decent with his eyes, looks back up and returns to frowning.

“You were attempting to explain why you assumed I was kidnapped despite me leaving clear instructions to prove the contrary.”

“It was just very unlike you, Lo,” Virgil chimes in, still deeply buried into his hoodie. “You didn’t say anything beforehand, and we thought Deceit or the Duke might have forged the folder.”

“Exactly! And then we found my brother’s atrocious deodorant case in your trash and…” Roman trails off as he realizes what he just said.

“You… went through my trash?” Logan is now undoubtedly seething, glaring at them with cold eyes.

“Well, you see…” Roman tries to explain with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. Patton looks just as likely to come up with an excuse, so Virgil speaks up again.

“I asked Princey over there to check if you were in your room or not. He took that as an invitation to go snooping.”

“Very helpful, Doom and Gloom!”

“Well, it was your fault!”

“And you didn’t have to tell him that!”

“So,” Logan interrupts, voice calm but so icy that the others shiver, “let me make sure I understood this right. You found my notes and instead of trusting me and my ability to decide for myself, your first thought was that I was some damsel in distress that needed rescuing? And in your attempt to be the heroes once again you invaded my privacy as well?!” He continually got louder and louder, clearly very much angry.

“Logan, calm down, we just-“ Patton tries to interject but Logan continues, probably not even noticing that the other had spoken.

“You trust me so little, that you cannot even consider that I make decisions for my own well-being without consulting you? After pushing me aside again and again, you concluded that I cannot take care of myself? I have listed reasons for my decision in the letter I left you. Did you even consider those? Or did you assume that I would continue to let you figuratively walk all over me?” Logan takes a few deep breaths, the others stunned into silence. Once he feels like he is back in control of himself, the logical side continues, in his normal speaking voice.

“To me it is obvious that our current co-existence is neither beneficial to Thomas nor ourselves. We continue to figuratively turn in circles and no issues are truly being resolved. We all are stressed out, which makes finding a compromise even more unlikely. I had discussions on this topic with both Janus and Remus, as well as smaller conversations with all of you, if you cared to remember. And the conclusion I reached in the end was that we needed to take a step back and reevaluate. So, in order to do that, I asked Remus to help me arrange a place to stay for a few days to give us all time to reflect. He ended up inviting me here, to his library and I decided to extend my original idea into a vacation. I assure you, this all happened through my own volition.” With his arms crossed, he stares at the others, apparently awaiting an answer. Patton was the first to find his voice.

“We’re so sorry, kiddo. To us it was just a very sudden turn of events and we panicked. We should have trusted you more.”

“I trust him!” Roman huffs. “It’s Deceit and my brother that I don’t trust!” He points a finger accusingly towards Janus, who had continued to silently watch from the side and now raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Roman addresses Logan directly. “You said you talked with them about your plan but how do you know that it wasn’t part of theirs all along?!”

“Their plan to do what exactly?”

“To drive us apart, obviously! Ever since that snake showed up, we keep fighting! It must be his fault; he wants us to not trust each other so that he can influence Thomas!” Roman’s rant was undermined by his inability to truly raise his voice and none of the others seem convinced. Not even Virgil. Logan sighs.

“I understand that Janus’ past action have hurt you, Roman, but you need to accept that he is not the villain you make him out to be. He is doing his best to protect Thomas, as we all do. And he is not always in the right, none of us are. As much as I hate admitting it, my plans and wishes for Thomas are not always the answer either, which is why I try to incorporate your suggestions into my planning. But since you all seem to refuse to acknowledge my contributions in the same way, Thomas ends up neglecting his responsibilities. I would not let Janus make all the decisions, but he deserves to voice his opinions as much as the rest of us.”

“But he lured you away!”

“As I’ve already said, the decision was mine alone. Janus was the one who brought the idea of a vacation up to me first, that is true, but I was the one to decide to ask Remus for help and not discuss it with you beforehand.”

“And why didn’t you?” Virgil chimes in. Logan glances at him before turning his eyes toward the sky.

“I was trying to avoid this exact conversation. I am tired of justifying myself to you all. I needed a break, somewhere you cannot easily get to. As I’m sure you have noticed on your way here, this library is exactly what I was looking for. I am frustrated, maybe even angry with you. I raised my voice against you earlier, which I did not want to do but I just cannot hold back anymore. I need this distance from you for a while. I need to sort out my” – he stops and bites his lips for a moment before continuing – “feelings and I do not have the room or time to do so properly while in the mindscape with you all. I had hoped that I would be able to explain this to you when I came back but you couldn’t wait, apparently.”

“And you expect us to trust them in the meantime?” Roman growls, again pointing towards Janus and then down towards the river where Remus disappeared to. Logan glares at him.

“No, Roman. I expect you to trust me for once. I can take care of myself, I can defend myself against your brother and I can do so better than you, as we all have seen before.” Roman goes red in the face and tries to retort, but Patton holds him back.

“Enough. Logan’s right, we’re in the wrong here.”

“But padre-!”

“No buts, mister.” A giggle is heard from down below. “We jumped to conclusions and came here without permission. Logan is allowed to make his own choices and while I’m not happy about it either, we should trust him.” He pats Roman on the shoulder before turning back to Logan. “Then I hope you have fun, and we’ll see you soon, okay?” He said it with a smile, but Logan frown deepens.

“Stop patronizing me, Patton. I am the same age as you and it’s demeaning. I do not need your permission to stay here.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I- “ Patton stutters, embarrassed and not able to meet Logan’s eyes. Virgil sighs.

“Let’s just get out of here. We all have a lot to think about, apparently.” Roman clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. Patton nods and stares at the ground. “Hope you have a nice break, Lo. See ya.”

“That is the plan. Please leave now,” is all Logan says before turning away and going back to his book. Janus claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the others.

“Follow me, there is a shortcut out of here.”

“Let me guess, it only works one way?” Roman huffs, his voice still quieter than he’d like. The effect would likely only disappear once he’s out of Remus’ territory.

“Very clever, my prince,” Janus says and claps his hands again, this time in mock applause. “100 points for Gryffindor.” Roman glares at him but even he has lost the will to continue their arguments.

The group makes their way back in silence, through the jungle, down a hidden elevator off to the right of the gallery, out a side door of the building and back towards the mindscape. Patton is the only one who glances back towards Logan before he is obscured by the foliage of the jungle, but the logical side is already back on the chaise longue, drinking his still hot beverage.

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

Due to the sounds still being muted, Logan could clearly hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator, signaling the departure of the others. With a sigh he puts the book down that he had only pretended to read. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly. What an ordeal this has been. After setting his glasses back in place, he takes another sip of his tea – which never cools thanks to Remus’ powers. Speaking off, wet slapping sounds reverberate through the air as the Duke makes his way over to Logan, dripping wet from his impromptu bathing session.

“So, how is Bruce?”

“Fine! He tried to bite my leg off, but he only got a few scraps of flesh!”

“Are you going to heal it or do you want me to bandage it?” Remus grins and with a snap he removes his damaged pants, at least from mid-thigh down. He knows Logan’s comfort zones and nudity wasn’t one of them. At least not yet. The logical side sighs as he summons a first aid kit. “Why am I not surprised?”

“’Cause you know I like it when you bondage me!”

“You mean ‘bandage me’, correct?”

“I know what I said.” Logan rolls his eyes and starts examining and dressing Remus’ wounds which, while bleeding, were all pretty superficial. For a few moments, he worked in silence, but as usual with Remus around, that didn’t last long.

“Felt good, right?”

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“Pff, don’t bullshit me, Lolo. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Fine, but I do not wish to comment on whether I found it satisfactory or not.”

“You can be such a prude.”

“That may very well be, but I do not see how that relates to our topic.”

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

“I am… unsure.” Logan finishes dressing the last wound, cleans the kit up before vanishing it away. Then he sits next to Remus with a sigh. “I do feel a bit better, having said what needed to be said but I also feel like I was too harsh with them.” Remus hums a moment before answering.

“Nah, I think they needed to hear it, ‘specially Daddy-o. He’s been treating not only you but Virgin as well like kids and he needs to stop or you’ll never get anywhere. Breaking out of your mold is exactly what you need, and they need to accept that.” Logan nods along but doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I am aware, but it still feels” – he grimaces at the word – “weird. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And that’s fine, Specs! You only just accepted that you have feelings, it’s gonna take a bit to figure them out. And dear Tomathy is in a weird place at the moment anyway, so it’s double confusing.”

“I am exhausted.”

“No wonder. Wanna take a nap?”

“Are you going to dry off first?”

“Ugh, fine. But only for you, Nerdy Wolverine!”

26 notes · View notes

songofclarity · 3 years ago

Note

Oooh, WRH/NMJ, either (1) the first moment WRH realized he had a Thing for NMJ or (2) arranged marriage AU with all the awkwardness that entails :)

Thank you for the prompt! Let's try the first moment Wen RuoHan realized he had a Thing for Nie MingJue~ I am weak for Wen RuoHan admiring Nie MingJue over something that never gets fully appreciated by anyone else, and having it happen during this occasion is just the cherry on top ❤

☀️

“It sounds like they’re preparing for war up ahead,” Wen Qing said. “Let’s turn back, Uncle.”

They walked the stone paths under the trees of the Unclean Realm with their fans fluttering in front of them. Although the day was sliding into evening, the searing heat had yet to follow suit. Yells and shouts and the ring of steel on steel grew louder as they moved along. They had passed plenty of closed doors and shut gates, nothing that would have prevented Wen RuoHan if he truly wanted to explore, but no one had stopped them strolling the open grounds which had led them to this place.

“Have you ever seen saber practice?” Wen RuoHan asked.

“Years ago when suddenly everyone had a saber for a week, but no one was shouting about it.”

“The Qinghe Nie are a fiercely prideful sect. This is how they welcome us to their discussion conferences.”

Wen Qing sighed. “Frighten us off, you mean?”

“Don't tell me some shouting has frightened you, A-Qing.”

There were few braver than she, however, and even the suggestion did not phase her. Only as they approached a stone arch and the sound of training grew louder did she show any sign of reluctance. “Where are we going?”

Wen RuoHan smiled. “We are taking a closer look.” There was very little reason to attend these conferences beyond seeing what the other sects were doing. Tradition ran deep, however, and methods rarely changed. He wasn’t expecting much, but it was Wen Qing’s first time in the Unclean Realm. A clever girl had grown up into a clever young woman, with fresh eyes that might notice what he himself did not.

Instead, she said, “Sect Leader Nie sent instructions we were to remain at our residence and the Sword Hall this week. It might be best not to push him at his first discussion conference.”

Upon taking the role of sect leader in the wake of his father's death, Nie MingJue had infamously avoided attending the discussion conferences held in Qishan, Lanling, Yunmeng, and Gusu. Only when hosting finally fell upon the Qinghe Nie in rotation did he finally relent to obligation.

Wen RuoHan couldn't blame him. Discussion conferences had become weary when Wen RuoHan had, over the years, lost interest in what his fellow leaders had to say. Their cultivation techniques crawled while all his life he had sought to run. Their management of the night hunts called for small, equal pieces for everyone to nibble upon, but it would be irresponsible of him to let his sect go hungry. And negligent of him to have traveled all this way and not stretch his legs.

“Some things never change,” Wen RuoHan said with some dry fondness as they came upon the training grounds. Dozens of young disciples in their dark, Qinghe Nie robes were paired off and in the midst of practice. Sunlight caught off the silver steel, adding flashes of light to an already aggressive display that looked, after several moments, like a dance.

The man overseeing the training stood taller than all the rest. With his robes hanging off the hips and tied at the waist, he struck a bold and handsome figure even with his eyes narrowed as the setting sun smiled on his face.

“I stand corrected,” Wen RuoHan said pleasantly, feeling the breeze off his fan more acutely. “The view has improved.”

Wen Qing frowned. For all her brilliance, weapons training for cultivation had rarely interested her as much as much as the wounds of the trainees. “The noise has not.”

Indeed, the man leading the lesson had a loud voice that would make meek disciples quiver. To Wen RuoHan’s agreement, the group at present were anything but meek as they all roared back wordlessly in affirmation to their trainer's command.

“Mind your balance!” the man shouted. “The next one who falls over will be standing on their hands and we’ll see if their feet can do better with a saber!”

“Now there is a cultivator who minds his training,” Wen RuoHan mused with a laugh. “We may have to borrow this one to ready our own for next year's conference.” Already decisions had been made to host events in Qishan along with the usual discussions. Horse racing, archery, and duels, plus poetry among others.

Wen Qing gave him a strange look. “That is Nie MingJue, Uncle. Sect Leader Nie.”

Wen RuoHan's smile froze, and then slowly fell. “Ah,” he said, shutting his fan with a soft clap, “he certainly looks nothing like his father.”

“And he's coming this way...”

“So he is. What shall we tell him?”

“...That we are going back to our rooms to have dinner. We look forward to the start of the conference in the morning.”

Wen RuoHan looked at her in surprise. “Are we now?”

“Yes.” And she had already turned away to leave.

“It would be rude of me to not greet our host now that he is here,” Wen RuoHan considered aloud as Nie MingJue walked straight through his fighting disciples to reach them on the most direct path.

Wen Qing hesitated.

“What is that expression, A-Qing?” He motioned her away with the closed fan. “If you do not want to speak with him, then go have the tea ready when I return.”

“...Yes, Uncle.”

She walked back down the path, scattering the shadows that had gathered there. He wasn't sure if she knew the way, but no doubt there would be plenty of volunteers to direct her, blessed as she was with her mother's beauty. Although, now that he thought about it, the Qinghe Nie were said to not be enchanted by beautiful things not made of steel.

“Sect Leader Wen.” Nie MingJue stood on the other side of the stone archway as if a barrier separated then. He glanced to where Wen Qing had gone before continuing, “What are you doing here alone?”

Nie MingJue certainly struck a fine figure up close with skin damp and golden from standing in the sun. Freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks and covered his ample shoulders. He still had his saber in hand, and while he had respectfully sheathed it in his approach, his grip was not relaxed. It was difficult to tell if it was heat radiating off of him or his anger.

Wen RuoHan smiled. “Alone? Do I not still have your Nie cultivators for company?” And he looked over to the small cluster of cultivators less than discreetly stalking him, keeping an eye on him from the shadows of the nearby trees and building from the first moment he had stepped foot in the Unclean Realm.

Nie MingJue was frowning when Wen RuoHan looked back to him. “Is there something you needed?”

Wen RuoHan opened his mouth, then closed it again. A tricky question. “To greet my host and wish him well.” Normally gifts were offered to new Sect Leaders, but Nie MingJue's rise was years ago. Wen RuoHan had not been informed of the past Sect Leader Nie's death until months later when the grieving period was through and the Qinghe Nie had resolutely shut their gates to outsiders for a time. Wen RuoHan looked to the fan in his hand and held it out to Nie MingJue. “These discussion conferences are deceptively long. Cool off and calm down, or you'll run yourself into the ground before the end.”

Nie MingJue's eyebrows pinched his brow--but he took the fan. Strong fingers curled over it, tighter and tighter until Wen RuoHan waited for it to get crushed beneath his fist.

Would a broken fan make up for a broken saber? The fan, however, meant little to him than some meager relief from the heat.

So he was surprised when Nie MingJue dropped his hand to his side with the fan still held tight. His expression was peculiar, as if he held a hundred words stuffed in his mouth and on his tongue. When he spoke his voice was taut with control.

“If you are unable to find your rooms, I can find someone to escort you.”

“Do you think I'm lost?”

“I gave instructions that everyone was to retire to their rooms when they arrived. Either you are lost or you are trespassing.”

Trespassing. Now there was an accusation Wen RuoHan had never heard of.

And yet an apology fluttered in and out of his thoughts, but it would be ingenuous at best. Wen Qing had warned him and he did not regret what he had seen or done. He was Sect Leader Wen, after all. He had been raised to apologize for nothing.

But he wasn’t out to make enemies. Discussion conferences lasted twice as long when everyone was trying to pick a fight. “A little bit of both,” he conceded lightly, although Nie MingJue looked none too pleased to hear it. “I will retire for the evening then. After seeing your management of the saber training, I am looking forward to your management of tomorrow’s discussion. Be sure not to lose your voice before then.”

#my writing #wen ruohan #nie mingjue #ruojue #and yet not enough ruojue #wen qing #asked from above #robininthelabyrinth #some of you might see this again #if i end up writing that longer fic i'm planning

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shera-dnd · 3 years ago

Link

I do believe we’ve gone too long without a good antagonist, so it’s time I introduced two in one go.

Also there is a joke there that I wrote before I even started writing the fic itself and I’m sure y’all will immediately recognize which one that is

“Amitola.”

Ilia blinked awake. It was a cold morning in their little camp, and her body was still sore from last night’s sparring session. She wished for nothing more than to stay inside her bedroll just a little longer, but a feeling of unease kept her from resting once more.

She recognized the voice, she certainly recognized the name, but there was no possible way she had actually heard that. That must have been a dream or perhaps she had simply misheard something in her half asleep state.

That didn’t matter, the sun had risen, and there was no doubt her dutiful knights were already awake and waiting for her to join them. So she quickly placed her usual glamour upon herself, donned one of her fine dresses, and stepped out of her tent.

“Good morning, my fair lady,” Weiss greeted cheerfully.

She sat by the campfire, preparing their breakfast as Belladonna watched her in amusement. She clearly didn’t expect the Schnee to know how to cook.

“Morning, Schnee,” Ilia replied, “what has gotten you in such a pleasant mood?”

“It was you, of course,” she explained, “last night has brought me such great joy.”

Ilia should not have expected the Schnee to know how to mind her wording, if the black knight’s grin was anything to go by.

“Is it safe to ask what has happened in this camp while I was gone?” Belladonna asked.

“I cannot say,” Ilia replied, unamused, “is it safe to ask why you’ve been gone all night?”

Weiss looked between the two of them in confusion, “is it safe to ask what you two are on about?”

“Oh, no, it certainly is not,” Belladonna chuckled.

“Then I believe a change of subject is in order,” Weiss declared, trying her best to evade whatever it was her companions were talking about, “Lady Rose and Lady Polendina have invited me over for target practice today. If my lady would allow it, I’d like us to make our way to their camp as soon as we’re done with this meal.”

“I…” Ilia wasn’t sure how to answer her. Her dream had left her unnerved, and spending time with the lovebirds would do nothing to ease her worries.

“I find myself indisposed today,” she settled on.

Weiss was visibly disappointed, but was quick to hide it behind the mask of a dutiful knight, “then I shall let them know we won’t make it today.”

“No, wait!” Ilia interrupted, not because she cared about the Schnee’s feelings, but because she did not want to spend all day in the company of a moping human, “just go if you want to. Don’t let me keep you.”

Weiss’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by this response, “are you certain, Lady Ilia?”

She scoffed in annoyance, “I wouldn’t have said so if I weren’t.”

At that the knight-to-be smiled at her in a way that certainly did not set her heart a flutter, and most definitely did not ease her worries like she were some fretting damsel. In fact, the only thing that got any reaction out of Ilia was when the Schnee decided to go on a tedious ramble, going on about how she would not forget such an act of kindness.

“Yes, yes, I’m a goddess amongst mortals,” she interrupted, “now shouldn’t you be making us breakfast?”

“Of course!” She agreed, promptly returning to the task at hand.

The resulting meal was surprisingly not deadly. In fact, as loath to admit it as Ilia was, it was in fact quite good.

“That was quite the astounding meal, Lady Weiss,” Belladonna praised, “I did not expect an atlesian noble to know how to cook.”

“Do not inflate her ego any further,” Ilia chided, “just be grateful the Schnee did not poison us.”

At least an attempt would have made her unease feel more warranted.

“You both flatter me,” Weiss replied. Though her smile was proud, it was closer to that of a farmer being recognized for their hard work, than that of a lord listing off their titles. It was charming in a way.

Not that Ilia would ever say that out loud.

“Great, you’ve made the Schnee happy, what a way to spoil my meal,” Ilia complained, though neither of them bought it, “shouldn’t you be on your way? Wouldn’t want to keep the lovebirds waiting.”

“You’re right, of course,” Weiss surrendered, getting up as she spoke, “I only request that you do not miss me in my absence.”

“Never has a request been so easy to fulfill,” Ilia replied, rolling her eyes, “now be gone.”

With that Weiss left them. Though Ilia assumed she’d get a moment of peace, it was clear Belladonna had other plans, for she kept looking at Ilia with the most insufferable of expressions plastered across her face. She knew what that look meant, she knew the conversation that would follow, and she most certainly did not want to partake in it.

“Not a word, Belladonna,” she threatened. It was a futile endeavor, all that did was work a smirk into that unbearable face of hers.

“You and ‘the Schnee’ seem very close,” she commented, to her own amusement and to Ilia’s great pain.

“I do not appreciate the implication in your tone, seelie,” Ilia complained.

“You have yet to tell me what has gotten Lady Weiss in such a cheerful mood,” Belladonna insisted.

“We sparred,” she replied, “nothing more to it than that.”

“Funny, that’s just what me and Yang did last night as well,” Belladonna commented.

“I still cannot comprehend what you see in that human,” Ilia shook her head.

“She eats for ten men and could take down just as many with her bare hands, and yet she could name every constellation in the sky and every flower in these fields,” she explained, her voice was sweet, but tasted like bitter jealousy to Ilia’s ear, “she fights like a mad woman, but speaks like a poet, and I have yet to decide what attracts me most.”

It was harder than it should have been, to accept Belladonna’s happiness, to be happy for her as well. Even now, so many years later, a part of Ilia still wished that her friend would speak of her in that way, that they could be more than just friends.

But she had accepted that this was not meant to be, and if the chieftain made Belladonna happy, then she should be happy for her as well.

“I take that to mean that you wish for her to speak poetry between your thighs,” Ilia joked. It was somewhat forced, but she tried.

“I cannot say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” Belladonna replied, “though for now I’m content with our walks and our sparring sessions.”

“Do you plan on telling her what you are?” Ilia asked. Jealousy aside, that had been her primary concern when it came to that human.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” she assured her, though that only served to confuse poor Ilia, “I believe she has figured us out already.”

“She has what!?” Ilia demanded.

“She has been slowly wearing less and less iron around me,” Belladonna explained, “yesterday I caught her taking off her bracelets before coming to greet me.”

“How could she even know!?”

“I’m not certain,” she replied, “regardless, it was very sweet of her.”

“How so? Iron doesn’t seem to have any effect on you,” Ilia asked, though there was a near accusatory tone to her words, “she might as well be removing that cloak of hers for all it matters.”

“It isn’t for any practical reasons really. it’s simply that she cares enough about my comfort to do so,” she replied, “hasn’t your human done the same for you?”

Her human?

Though the thought itself wasn’t entirely unpleasant - it had been far too long since poor Ilia had anyone to call hers - the fact that it was aimed at the Schnee of all people soured it for her. Certainly Belladonna knew she had better taste in women.

“Please, never refer to her in that way ever again,” she complained, pinching the bridge of her nose, “and besides she has put away the armor for her own comfort, not for mine.”

“Clearly,” Belladonna replied, amused, “of course our favorite knight wanabee has abandoned her signifiers of knighthood of her own volition, and only for her own benefit.”

“You’re a fool if you believe the Schnee cares for anyone other than herself,” Ilia bit back.

“And you’re a fool not to see how devoted she is to you,” Belladonna countered.

“I did not ask for devotion!” She shouted, “I did not ask to be her damned quest!”

With that shout came silence.

Neither of the fae had much to say from that point on. Though she did not enjoy having what had almost been a pleasant conversation sour so quickly, she also did not regret her outburst in any way. The simple idea of Ilia ever being with the Schnee in any way was both impossible and insulting, and the both of them just had to accept that.

“Amitola,” whispered the winds of the forest, like they had in the depths of her dream.

Ilia looked around frantically. There was no one around besides her and Belladonna. None who could know that name, or even what it meant. She turned back to her fellow fae, but she hadn’t reacted at all, still just sulking as she stared into the dwindling embers of their campfire.

“I should be going,” Belladonna said, seemingly unaware of anything wrong, “I’ve been neglectful of my duties to my order. I should rectify that.”

“Yes, of course,” Ilia replied, masking concern with bitterness, “return to your beloved humans.”

“Ami… Ilia,” she called, “you know I still care for you and for our kind.”

“Of course you do,” she almost hissed, shrouding her own unease with familiar venom, “now be gone already.”

Belladonna sighed, “as you wish.”

In little time she had suited up and set off to serve humanity once again, leaving Ilia alone to deal with the voices in the wind. She wasn’t a fool, she knew this was the doing of her people’s magic, and she recognized their summons when she heard them. What had worried her was that very few people knew that name, and fewer still had the means to travel this far north.

“Amitola,” the name echoed again, not spoken with a voice, but made to be from the wind itself.

This time Ilia answered its summons.

She ventured into the woods by herself, stripping her body of her glamour as she travelled further and further, far away from nobles and knights, from their pointless titles and empty oaths. Until once more she stood within the domain of the fae.

The forest was quieter here, a little pocket of peace set aside for her and her host.

“Amitola,” twin voices called in unison. That name, her name, was loaded with disappointment and contempt.

“Fennec,” Amitola greeted, lowering her head, “Corsac.”

From the shadows among the trees emerged the large gestalt form of the fae twins. A singular body of orange and white fur, caught somewhere between the shape of a man and a fox. It looked down on her with its four eyes, gleaming in the light that came through the branches.

“It has been too long, sister Amitola” Fennec spoke, and his voice felt like wind.

“We didn’t think we’d find you among the humans,” Corsac followed, and his breath smelled like embers.

“It makes one wonder why you left so suddenly,” the twins commented.

It was an unsettling sight to behold.

“I do not seek to join them, if that is what you’re insinuating,” Amitola returned. She was no traitor like Belladonna, and she would not be treated like one, “I seek to infiltrate them.”

“Of course,” Corsac agreed, “but what is it you have to gain from this?”

“I--”

“Don’t tell us you forgot to plan ahead, little sister,” Fennec added.

“I did plan ahead!” Amitola insisted, “I wished to…I wished to see the human world. I wanted to know the things they’ve built from our suffering. The festival felt like the best opportunity I’d get.”

“So then, did you come here only to bolster your hatred of their kind?” One asked.

“Or did you only wish to don a dress and play pretend?” The other followed.

As they spoke they circled her like a predator, their words following much the same. They had not yet betrayed violence in their intent, but it still unnerved her to be treated like prey.

Though words failed to come to her defence, her rage at being interrogated like this still burned bright, and it took the form of the same glare that had many times targeted her companions over the past few days.

The twins laughed.

“Do not worry, little Amitola,” Fennec reassured her, condescension weighing heavy on her name, “your goals may be shallow.”

“But your skill can still be put to use,” Corsac noted, “after all, you have acquired not only the perfect disguise.”

“But also their trust,” they spoke together once more, wind and fire amplified by one another, “and you will put it to good use.”

The shared body of the twins stood before her, larger, more fearsome than any singular being could ever dream to be. Under their gaze it was easy for rage to die down, and for fear and guilt to take over.

“You will do this for us, won’t you, Amitola?”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #bumbleby #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

Text

Smoke & Mirrors - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: Save me

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?

warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+

author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now?

Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry.

song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

----

The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives.

“And what did she say?”

“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.

Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.

“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”

“And are they?”

“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”

“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”

Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”

Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.

“Was that your plan all along?”

Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”

-----

You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.

Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.

As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.

What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now.

As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner.

Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one.

As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.

You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.

//When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone//

You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.

Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...

And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:

//All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”

“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.

You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”

Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him.

“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.

You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.

“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.”

“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head.

The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence.

When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.

You sighed.

“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”

Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.

“Probably not.”

You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier.

Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead.

Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…

Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.

-----------

The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible.

“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.

“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.

“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”

“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.”

“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”

A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.

When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress.

As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.

Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.

Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently.

As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.

“Tea?”

You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission.

“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”

“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response.

Partially, to hide an amused smile.

You really were that tired, huh?

“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.

“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”

“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.

Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.

Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him.

Among other things.

And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night.

His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---

“Your tea.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”

Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Pleasant daydream?”

“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.

His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair.

You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom.

Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way.

"We should play a game."

Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes.

“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”

His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.

“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."

"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback.

He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"

"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.

"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters.

"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.

"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly.

"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."

A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.

"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"

...shit, walked right into that one, huh?

You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”

Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.

Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation.

“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.

“Got it.”

So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.

“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe.

And after what felt like forever--

“Okay.”

You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything.

Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.

A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.

“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.

Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”

“So it’s all an act?”

You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”

You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”

Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.

“You have no idea.”

Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.

“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”

Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.

A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn.

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”

Neil shot you a quick look from his chair.

“Sure thing,” he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumbled.

You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.

--------

It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout.

You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...

Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.

“How’s the mattress?”

Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.

“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?”

“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.

“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”

“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”

You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom.

When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.

“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat.

“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.

“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.”

When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.

“Why?”

“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”

Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s.

“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.

You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.

“Think again.”

Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”

“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.

The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.

But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.

He read the message quickly.

“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.

“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”

“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”

“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”

“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.

Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.

“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”

He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile.

“How nice of you to worry about me.”

You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.

“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”

“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”

You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”

Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.

-------

After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage.

Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms.

Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way.

As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded.

Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.

You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down.

You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head.

He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.

You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly.

A gunshot echoed through the room.

The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you.

Neil lowered his gun.

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.

He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.

“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”

------

Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.

You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

“Do they need us to get in to file a report?”

“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”

“Great, thanks.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed.

There was just one thing you needed to do first.

Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.

“Neil…?”

He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face.

You gave him a nervous smile.

“Thank you.”

His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he smirked.

...of course.

“Guess that makes us even.”

(next chapter->)

#neil tenet x reader #neil tenet #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet #robert pattinson #tenet fanfiction #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #neil tenet imagine #neil x reader #smoke & mirrors #tags hate me

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

MonX Hospital | Jooheon

Pairing: Lee Jooheon x reader

Genre: paeditrician – hospital au / romance / friends with benefits to lovers au

Warnings: medical and challenging behaviour terms, and whilst they’re fwb it’s only talked about, there are no sex scenes.

Word count: 3994

Tuning out the conversation at the front desk he had been listening to, Jooheon shifted his attention to the busy waiting room. A mother, looking rather frustrated, was standing beside a small child and holding out her hand. She visibly swallowed back her urgency and smiled. “Come on Maddox, the nurse is waiting for us.”

The young boy ignored her request, continuing to push a car on a table, hurtling it around with a bit more force.

“Maddox! Let’s go,” she tried again, reaching out for his hand, in which the boy immediately recoiled away from and screamed. His mother, trying not to catch the sympathetic looks from the other waiting parents, readjusted her bag upon her shoulder. “Come on now, the nurse just needs to see how big you’re getting! It’s not scary, I swear.”

Pushing away from the counter he had been resting upon, Jooheon entered the space, giving the mother a comforting smile before sitting down on the floor next to the child. Maddox glanced in his direction cautiously, now pushing the car around with less force. Jooheon grinned. “Woah, that’s some good driving you’re doing there! Can I join?”

The child didn’t verbally answer, but he did hand Jooheon a car. Starting up some revving noises, he then propelled it around the track the child had made out of various wooden blocks and toys from the container in the corner. Jooheon purposely knocked down a bridge and then gasped noisily.

The small boy giggled. “You caused an accident!”

“I really did, didn’t I. Was I going too fast?” Maddox nodded. “What do you recommend I do?”

“You’ll need to go see a doctor! Your driver is injured!”

“Oh no!” Jooheon exclaimed and several of the other kids in the waiting room edged closer. “Isn’t it a good thing I’m in a hospital right now?”

“Are you a doctor?” another child asked and Jooheon nodded guiltily.

“I am. I should have known better and gone slower, right?”

All the kids agreed with this.

“Maybe since we’re in a hospital, Maddox here could take me and my broken driver to see the nurse right now. He needs to get checked out.”

The little boy hesitated before nodding and holding out his hand. Jooheon hid his smile as best as he could, and the rest was wiped off his face when Maddox dragged him across the foyer and into the room he had been avoiding all this time. For a little guy, he sure was strong. His mother darted along with them, smiling appreciatively at Jooheon who Maddox insisted had to sit down with him.

“Nurse Tina, I drove too fast and now Maddox and I need to get checked out.”

“Well,” she said solemnly, looking at Maddox and nodding her head. “We best check you both out for any injuries, huh?! First, let’s take your temperature, shall we?”

“Thank you,” the mother said once Maddox’s basic stats were charted. “He gets a little overwhelmed in places like these.”

“It’s common so don’t feel it’s something you’re doing wrong. Kids don’t naturally like coming to the hospital,” Jooheon replied before crouching down to ruffle Maddox’s hair. “Thanks for looking out for me! Now you go down that hallway and let Doctor Y/N look out for your driver, okay?”

“You better heal well, Doctor…” Maddox leaned in to attempt to read his badge. Before he could tell him his name, Maddox looked at the honey pot clay pin attached to his lanyard and grinned. “Doctor Honey!”

“That’s me,” he chuckled. “I’m Doctor Honey.”

“Doctor Honey, huh?” you mentioned when Jooheon walked into the shared office space for junior consultants, shooting him a smirk. “I heard all about how reckless you drove from a little boy and three others today. I think I’m going to take the bus home tonight instead of catching a ride with you.”

“I guess I have my first nickname here,” Jooheon breathed dramatically before sitting down. “Here I was hoping for “Doctor McHottie. Guess being a paediatrician makes that one a bit of a stretch.”

“That and this isn’t Grey’s Anatomy,” you replied with another smile before throwing down your pen with a heavy sigh.

Jooheon peered over at your case notes and then scrunched up his nose. “Hard day?”

“I have one patient who I saw today in Doctor Clifford’s clinic hours and I’m at a loss of what to present to him in our meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Can I read your case notes more closely?” he asked and you slid the file over. Reaching for your tablet to look up the history of previous visits for the young girl, Jooheon sighed as well. “Poor thing has enough going on in her life, huh?”

“She’s retracting away from society at a rapid pace. When she did answer my questions, she was very angry in doing so. There’s a lot of tension pent up in her body and mind right now.”

“And the caregivers state the change came from puberty? Nothing else?”

“Her biological parents have recently left the scene for good, which initially eased some of her aggressive behaviour. However, the return of the new school year has put a lot of strain on the situation. Some of these symptoms do support her diagnosis on the ASD spectrum, but I’m also concerned we’re not doing enough. I’ve increased the dosages for two medications she’s taking and given the caregiver some advice on how to address the lack of school attendance from a professional’s perspective but she didn’t seem all that relieved it would do much to help things at home and I can’t stop thinking about their situation. She’s such a sweet kid but she’s not getting the right assistance to help her overcome this.”

“And her diagnosis of Autism is much newer than most of these other labels that some of the services out there to support kiddos like her would have given them a stand-down period of six weeks before even adding them to the waiting list so who knows when they will get seen by them to continue support at home,” Jooheon added on, tapping a finger on his chin trying to find a solution.

The past year that he had worked as a junior consultant in the Paediatrics department had definitely come with some highs. Working with children and helping them overcome obstacles both physically and mentally to reach closer to their potential was always rewarding. But more often than not, he felt restricted by the amount of help he could give to kids like this one. A meeting during one of these clinics was only a moment in time for that family. The parents and caregivers of children exhibiting these challenging behaviours truly deserved all the respect in the world for what they must face day in and out.

Jooheon knew that your frustrations matched his own, wishing there was more you could do to support that family. He smiled determinedly at you over the table. “Let’s brainstorm what else you could suggest for her ongoing support and reach out to the agencies we know that might provide assistance to the family with her needs as well.”

“You know, you really suit that nickname of yours, Doctor Honey,” you replied with a watery smile, nodding as you reached to take the file back. “You sure are a sweetheart.”

“Sweet enough to have dinner with?” Jooheon shot back playfully and he grinned when you rolled your eyes right as he expected you to.

“I like things to be more sour than just sweet.”

“Chinese it is,” he announced and you laughed whilst shaking your head.

“Sometimes, I wonder how to get through to you that only being your friend and colleague is where it belongs for us.”

“Friends can have dinner together.”

“I remember our last dinner,” you stated with a hushed tone as Jooheon’s smile grew again. “Don’t smile!”

“I remember it too. It was really delicious.”

“I don’t recall signing up for dessert afterwards,” you continued, trying to sound unaffected as you scrolled through your tablet.

“I don’t recall you saying no to it either,” he pointed out, trying not to smile too much at your reproachful look. “We can enjoy the perks of being consenting adults when we want to, Y/N.”

“I swear you’ve watched way too many doctors TV shows.”

Jooheon smirked. “Never seen one, actually. You’re just trying to pass it off for whatever happens in those dramas so you don’t have to admit that being friends with me is fun.”

“It’s trouble. Honey gets sticky and is hard to remove.”

“You don’t have to remove it,” he offered. Glancing over at you earnestly, he hoped you would notice that whilst having bouts of pleasure with you over the past year had been well reciprocated, Jooheon hoped it could become more between you.

You deflated his approach quickly. “Sorry, I have plans for dinner. Maybe next time, Doctor Honey.”

“Did you ever follow up with that family with the puberty issue?” Jooheon asked a couple of weeks later when he crossed paths with you in the hallway leading to a seminar you were both attending.

You nodded, shooting him a smile. “Clifford was thrilled with the added suggestions I had for the case. Thanks for your help.”

“Hey, whatever gives these kids the best chance to thrive, huh?”

“I hope this seminar is worth it.”

Jooheon smirked. “Don’t snore too loudly this time round.”

“I did not!” Yanking on his arm as you looked around at the fellow health professionals entering the space, you then huffed indignantly. “I had worked two shifts back to back and ended up helping on an urgent case before the last one!”

“Sure,” he replied simply, his dimples deepening as he threw you another playful smile. “If that’s what helps you cover up-”

“Are you fishing for a thank you since you made sure no one found me sleeping through the last one?!” you enquired as you both stepped into the large boardroom, aiming for the seats concealed in the back row. Once seated, you gave Jooheon a pointed look. “I won’t fall asleep.”

“What will you do this time if you do?”

“I’m not going to!”

“I’m going to hold it over your head if you do. I know! Dinner tonight if you fall asleep.”

“I hope you enjoy eating alone, Lee Jooheon.”

Hours later, you grumbled as you took a seat adjacent from Jooheon in a sushi bar, pointing your index finger at him warningly. “Don’t!”

“Sure looks like I have the best company for eating alone tonight, Y/N.”

“We’re only eating,” you announced firmly, before reaching out for a plate from the conveyor belt that ran along the inner edge of the table. You then let out another groan. “If only her voice hadn’t been so dreary!”

“Face it, unless you’re being stimulated, you fall asleep too easily. I don’t know how you even got through med school.”

“Lots of coffee and determination.”

“Guess now that you have the job it’s easy to slacken off huh?”

“Jooheon!”

He grinned. “Don’t worry. I took enough notes for the pair of us.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you told him and gestured to the food. “It’s on me tonight.”

The conversation flowed easily over a range of topics during dinner, as it usually did. Jooheon hadn’t met someone who he could tease in one moment and then discuss serious topics in the next until you, and it always made him yearn for more of your attention. However, when you reached for your second shot glass of sake, Jooheon took it from you and downed it instead.

“Hey! That was mine.”

“You’re a lightweight. Don’t drink anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll end up wanting dessert if you do,” he told you bluntly, and you stared at him, cheeks flushed.

“Who says I don’t already?”

“Are you feeling the effects of the alcohol so soon?”

Leaning over and kissing him impulsively, Jooheon was stunned when you pulled away. You cocked your head to the side and took the shot glass back before pouring more of the rice wine. You knocked it back. “I can’t have you having dessert alone as well, huh?”

“Let’s pay the check then. It’s a work night and we don’t need to drink any more with early morning clinics tomorrow.”

“You’re right,” you agreed with a seductive trail of your finger down his chest. “I’m sure you’ll make me feel more than drunk on what you have in store for me tonight.”

“Doctor Honey!” the children exclaimed as he entered the hospital schoolroom, waving to all the attendees of the class. A couple of the physically-abled children hopped up from their seats and dashed over to hug him.

“How’s school today?”

“We’re colouring!” Ingrid told him and he gasped noisily, allowing the girl to take him over to her place at the table. She was colouring in a fairy with a pretty flower crown.

“Colouring!” he repeated, crouching down to look at Minseok’s alligator he was carefully remaining within the lines of. “You’re all future artists!”

“Will you colour with us?!”

“Me? Oh, I don’t know, I’m just a doctor.”

“You could draw a picture of Doctor Y/N!” Jake suggested and Jooheon lost his balance, falling to the floor with an embarrassing thud.

The children all giggled.

Recovering, Jooheon narrowed his gaze on Jake. “Why would I draw her?”

“Because last time she came to visit our class, she drew you!” Melissa told him as she pointed to the wall where a picture of a honey pot and spoon had been hung up.

Jooheon laughed. “That’s a honey pot.”

“It’s you! She told us so.”

“Really?” he asked, looking at the picture again. He grinned. “Did she tell you why she chose to draw that?”

“We asked her to draw her favourite thing.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he breathed out quietly, thinking back to your indifferent behaviour this morning when you woke up at his place.

Coming back to the present, Jooheon smiled weakly. “I wish I could colour with you all but I’m actually here for Luna.”

Luna lowered her head and shook it adamantly. “I don’t want to go!”

“Doctor Honey will be with you, don’t be scared, Luna,” the teacher, Mrs Potts, gently encouraged and the other children moved to hug her and tell her it would be okay.

Once Luna was free from her friends, Jooheon held out his hand for her. “I’ve even got the coolest orderly on his way to help you travel to your therapy session in style.”

“You’ll still come too, right?”

“Of course!” he assured, her sweaty palm gripping onto his more tightly.

As he walked Luna back to her wardroom, she kept looking up at Jooheon inconspicuously, and he smiled after catching her once more in the reflection of the window they passed by. “What is it, Luna?”

“Is Doctor Y/N your girlfriend?”

Jooheon shook his head sadly in answer. “She just wants to be my special friend.”

“I had a boyfriend once,” she whispered when back in her room and Jooheon leaned down to help her up onto her bed. He then gasped and Luna giggled behind her hand.

“You’re too young for a boyfriend!”

“And you’re too old! Shouldn’t you be married by now?!”

“I’m not old at all!”

“Then I’m not young!” she refuted and Jooheon gave her a fist pump in a truce. Her humour eased. “I wish I had kept him as my special friend though.”

“Why?”

“When he left the hospital after getting better, he never contacted me again. If I hadn’t of given him my heart, it wouldn’t have hurt so much.” Blinking at the vulnerable truth the twelve year old had spoken of, Jooheon sighed. She was too young for such a painful experience on top of her health condition.

Luna took Jooheon’s hand and squeezed it again. “Maybe Doctor Y/N doesn’t want you to ever leave her so she chooses to keep you as her special friend instead.”

Before he could respond, Minhyuk, the cheerful orderly, arrived and took away his chance. Jooheon smiled at Luna thoughtfully.

It was amazing how insightful kids could be.

“It feels like it’s been forever since I worked in the same place as you,” you mentioned when you entered the office space the following week and Jooheon grinned.

“It’s only been two days. Are you not getting enough done in your shifts to feel like time is dragging or something?”

“You’re not funny.” Sitting down heavily, you placed your hands up under your chin to rest your head upon them. “It’s just weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Even when we’re busy, you always seem to appear during my day.”

Jooheon swallowed slowly. “I guess friends are not always visible when busy.”

“You are though,” you persisted, narrowing your gaze on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Sure.”

“Really?” Peering at Jooheon more closely, he diverted his gaze from your scrutiny. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“What’s there to hide? We’re just friends, Y/N.”

“Hm,” you hummed, shaking your head. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m just being your friend.”

“Say the word friend one more time, I beg of you,” you said darkly, opening your file with a huff.

He chose to look at you then, chewing on his bottom lip.

Luna’s words had played around in his mind. Jooheon didn’t realise that his advances could have been felt as pressure to you, and whilst he knew being friends who slept together worked to some extent, he hadn’t realised it could mean something to you to not go any further.

And so he had decided to just be the friend you needed. Although, Jooheon wondered if he had taken the step back a little too far if you were aware of how little he was trying to bombard you each day. To be fair, he wasn’t very good at reeling back his own feelings or level of friendship to make you feel more comfortable.

After a few minutes of working in silence, you cleared your throat. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No.”

“Good, want to Netflix and Chill?” you suggested, not lifting your gaze from your tablet. Jooheon didn’t answer immediately and you flicked your eyes upwards. You then frowned, waving a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Doctor Honey, did you hear me?”

“Uh, maybe not tonight. I’m not feeling well.”

“Really? But that one time when you were ill and told me nothing could stop you from-”

“Guess I had more energy back then,” he lied, collecting up his things hastily. He was growing confused and it was bothering him.

You seemed bothered as well. “Where are you off to? We have two hours to write up our findings from our clinical hours today.”

“I need to go look up something in the library. I’ll catch you later.”

Jooheon slapped the side of his head a couple of times once he was out of the office, groaning with how awkward he was acting towards you.

He realised he couldn’t just be friends with you anymore.

Your working environment continued to grow tense until you found Jooheon in an empty wardroom, patting the bed in which Luna had once resided in.

For a moment, you comforted him. “It’s a good thing she’s going home. Why are you sitting here looking so lost?”

“I’ve grown attached to her.”

“She was a spunky little thing. Gave me lots of advice.”

Jooheon nodded softly. “Me too.”

“Did she give you the advice to avoid me?” you wondered and Jooheon glanced up at you in confusion. You shrugged, taking a seat on the bed beside him. “Or did she say something to make you back off from me?”

“No, well-”

“I knew it!” you exclaimed, standing back up and waving your hands around. “See, she told me that there was someone really special in my world and that I should see him as more than a friend and then you kept saying the words just friends over and over and I cannot believe you took the advice of a twelve year old so literally!”

“Hang on a moment,” he simply replied, narrowing his eyes on your face. “Regardless of age, some people say insightful things. I was just giving you the space you need since I have made it clear that I want to be more than just friends who sleep together. I want the whole deal with you but you always give excuses. So yeah, I listened to Luna and thought maybe you had a reason that you didn’t want to be more than friends with me over. I was being respectful of your needs.”

“Disappearing from my world is respectful?” you asked, shaking your head. “You made me lonely. I half wondered if I had offended you or you’d grown bored of me. I kept making advances at you that you’ve deflected. How is that being a friend?”

“Do you like me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I mean more than a friend,” he reiterated and you opened your mouth, only to close it again. Jooheon sighed. “See, this is where we differ. I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you and want to-”

“My last partner manipulated me,” you blurted out. Cringing, you started to pace the floor. “I gave him so much of myself that when I realised what he was doing to me, I vowed I wouldn’t date again. I wanted to hold full control over my feelings. I figured if all you and I did was eat and sleep together that I wouldn’t get too attached. I could have a good friend and have some fun with you too.”

You stopped pacing and looked at him. “But you’ve become more than a friend; even I have to admit it. I want to do more than what we have. I just don’t want to lose what we have either.”

“I’m not going to hurt you like that,” Jooheon answered, standing up and stepping closer to you. Reaching for your shoulders, he smiled gently. “I’m not like him.”

“I know, you’re so much better in all areas,” you breathed and Jooheon grinned. “That’s why I get scared. You’re too good of a human to mess things up with.”

“What if things only get better, not messed up?” he offered and you slipped your arms around his waist, placing your head against him. “What if we’re better at being more than just friends?”

“Is it worth risking what we have?” you murmured, lifting your head to look at him. After staring at one another for an intense moment, you nodded. “Of course it is.”

Jooheon kissed you then, softly. It felt like it had been so long since he had last caressed your lips properly. You pressed into him firmly, deepening the embrace.

And then jumped apart when you both heard fevered giggling. “It’s just like what my Mummy watches on TV! Doctors do kiss each other in secret!”

“Ew, are you both worried about catching cooties?!”

“Why would they be worried? They’re doctors! They can cure anything!”

“How about you guys head off and pretend you saw nothing and I’ll be down to the schoolroom with candy in twenty minutes,” Jooheon stated and with another set of giggles, they darted out, leaving you both laughing at being caught.

“They’re right though,” you mentioned, stretching up to peck his lips again. “We can cure anything.”

Jooheon grinned, resting his forehead on yours. “So how about dinner tonight?”

“With Doctor Honey?” you asked, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, what’s on the menu?”

“Anything you fancy.”

“Even you?”

“I thought I was too sticky,” he teased, reminding you of a past conversation.

Trailing your index finger up until you flicked his chin gently; you gave him a smirk. “Maybe I don’t mind if I can’t get you off of me now.”

_________________

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arkt-nehrim-archive · 4 years ago

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A Story in Spring : Renewal {1/3}

"I have a proposition for you."

The walls of the fallen seraph's humble hut had so far been something of a passive comfort, yet Lithirill found no sense of ease. Her host, and fellow Tel'lmaltath could certainly tell, eyeing her with some hint of concern, slowly rising to his full height, turning to face her once the fire had suitably caught. "Go on."

The encouraging mannerism was commonplace in their interactions thus far, but it didn't do much to make her desirous of speaking her mind, as images played in her head of all she had been plotting in secret, only thinking to bring the matter to him when she -knew- beyond a doubt she could -achieve- her goals. "It is a...personal matter, to you specifically. I hesitate to even ask, truthfully." At that notion, her company raised a sculpted brow. How he might've read her words differed from what she seemed to mean by her body language; a normally stood straight, confident woman now half hunched and barely maintaining eye contact. He simply watched, resting a hand along his hip. It was the only prompt to continue she was going to get. "...Right. -Arkt-. I will speak plainly." even then she hesitated, a sigh accompanying an expression of complete honesty, "...I want to reconstruct your wings. I would see you fly again."

There weren't many things reality could offer him that still surprised, but that had done it, the gentle carefulness in her tone most of all. It wasn't just an offer, but a plea. Arkt's gaze fell to his floorboards, called back to the moment she had seen the tattered remnants, and the conversation that followed where he learned much and more about the individual he chose to champion. Her perseverance in the face of impossible odds had ensured his second chance at freedom from past mistakes, yet here she was still giving. It was not debt fueling her either, but desire, leading him to a thought forgotten sensation; confoundment.

Lithirill only fidgeted in the quiet, narrowing her eyes in passive calculation, half braced for some kind of impact. It took him some several moments to recover, clearing his throat. The ever-present ache at his back he'd still struggled with flared up. Even to this day, the injury pained him, centuries "dead" had been his only reprieve.

"You are firmly familiar with the reasons I lost them in the first place..." he began, watching his company instinctively tense, ready for rejection; instead he would give her a question, "Knowing that, I must ask -why-? To what end would you go to such efforts?" Asked with genuine curiosity, over any manner of accusation; he suspected her of nothing.

Lithirill nodded, crossing her arms and easing her weight onto one leg. "History was one among a few reasons I have debated asking. As for why, well. I feel there are certain wrongs afflicted to those I’ve come to care for, and it is within my power to unravel those wrongs.”

Arkt watched her carefully crafted mask slipping, the woman ever at odds with herself. He wondered if there would ever be a time where she did not engage in the practice, and simply felt at home in his company.

"As you did with Arantheal?" he questioned, curious to see if he could keep her at that boundary.

Lithirill puzzled over the question for a moment, pondering if it was harmless comparison or an accusation. Foolish to think it the latter, knowing Arkt had no history of resisting her intent.

"...Yes. As I did -for- Narathzul." She corrected, offering a sideways nod and a shrug, "Know I don't need an answer -today-. I only wanted you to know that the idea lingered in mind long enough to...plan for.”

Ultimately, Arkt was touched. Shock still kept a whirlwind of emotions at bay at the mere hint of taking to the skies again, permitting the warmth of the smile behind his veil to only grow as he watched her. She was not having so easy a time, clearly having wrestled with herself on the matter for awhile.

"Is this what has kept you from your usual visits of late?" he wondered, gesturing with a hand in a motion pushing down from his midsection; 'Relax.' he said silently.

Her eyes followed his hand, flicking up to his face like the lash of a serpent's tongue before she took in a breath and let it out, chuckling to herself.

"In part. Alongside the politicking and the visits somewhere warmer. Thoughts?"

He sighed through his nose as he partly answered with the considering tilt of his head and a prolonged shutting of his eyes, continuing to chew on the notion.

"Too many to rightly voice in a manner composed or remotely understandable. Would you mind returning to Castle Darlan for the moment? I'll have an answer for you come the evening."

"Of course.~"

The professional manner in which she pulled herself together and turned from him showed a wall climbing between them that he had no patience for, the old seraph chuckling when she moved to open the door.

"Lithirill."

She twitched, shoulders bunching as her fingers fumbled at the doorknob, before she straightened again and smiled a familiar, shy curve over her shoulder. Her eyes lit up a touch when she saw he’d pulled down his veil.

"Yes?"

"...Thank you." he spoke, genuine appreciation clear in his expression.

A hint of color, and the wall scattered; his only goal in the moment. She departed with an amused, "See you soon.", quickly on her way.

~~~ As promised, Arkt had arrived that evening, uncharacteristically anxious, but Lithirill could hardly blame him. She could not imagine the weight of what her offer truly meant to him.

In times long gone, the loss of his wings, however deeply traumatic, had served a purpose; symbols had power, as much in their creation as their destruction and his fall signaled the end of an era where the Lightborn could rule without fear of repercussion. Yet now that all his battles were over, and this new life lay before him...

It was not long before the old seraph was waxing poetic, teetering back and forth in his words, as was his way. He all but danced between every sentence- whilst Lithirill only offered more wine when his glass neared empty. She refused to rush him in coming to a decision, simply enjoying his company, equal parts devilishly curious and genuinely empathetic.

Such camaraderie came to it's end at the dawn of the following day, Arkt admitting in the quiet of the morning fog that he accepted her offer; even with her many warnings of risk and pain, he had seen firsthand what she was capable of; he knew he was in good hands, even if a fair few of her achievements were with his shadowed aid.

Two weeks had passed since he agreed to her offer, wasting no time in getting started. The first bout had been the hardest thus far- having not yet known just how -much- it took to render a seraph numb, and having the unfortunate task of plucking the feathers he still had. A meticulous, painful, unexpectedly bloody process...but it was safer to start with a clean slate than try to rebuild all that was under them when half the limb had been shorn down to bare bone.

Trippling the dosages from there made things much easier, at least for Arkt. His struggle was not with pain in the familiar sense now, it came instead from a nameless sensation; the agonizingly slow return of what should never be, able to sense every -tiny- thread of what was lost reconnect. It was as torturous as it was euphoric, and it could only be overcome by sheer force of will.

Tonight would be no different. Lithirill had learned his tells after a few sessions. When in the throes of her spell work, she could spare little attention for observance, but awareness returned as she dialed back, murmuring gentle nothings mostly for her own comfort; though it signaled to Arkt he could stop taking such measured breaths.

The touch of the Sea crept away like the retreating tide, Arkt opening hazy eyes, idly stretching his fingers. He knew well enough not to move until his companion told him to do so, watching her over his shoulder. There was a slight notion of fear that kept him from immediately looking upon his wings, naked and ghastly as they were. He only had eyes for Lithirill's face, noting the knitted brow and how she clicked her tongue when observing progress, pondering how to proceed.

"I'd hoped to have had bone completely covered by now..." she lamented, drawing again the magicked circles that held his wings in subtle regeneration between sessions, "I've underestimated how deeply the burns go. I should’ve-”

"You need not fret, Lithirill." Arkt spoke up, a look of assurance crossing fair features, "This shall take as long as it will take, and you have plenty to grapple with without adding the unnecessary elements of haste and worry.~"

"...Perhaps. Still, I don't savor putting you through further pain I could have avoided." she spoke idly, glad he could not feel it as she undid the slings above, gently moving the humble beginnings to rest on cushions whilst she worked tension from developing musculature.

"We went into this knowing it would be difficult. We will endure." he replied, his tone as much an attempt to comfort as it was a statement of fact; she was far too deep in it now to safely -stop-. "Which for you to manage, requires heady use of those flasks behind you, as I recall."

It was a gentle, but earnest jab to not neglect her own health whilst taking care of him. She might have been Tel'lmaltath, but healing at -this- level for such prolonged bouts tested the limits of even legendary resolves, and Arkt did not fancy the idea of a Shadow God turned Oorbaya.

Satisfied with her ministrations, she sighed and nodded, letting her hand trail down his back as she turned and gingerly stepped away to pluck a flask of Ambrosia from a stockpile. The edges of a smirk tugged at his lips as she made a show of drinking half the vial like it didn't taste awful, raising both brows at him in a silent 'satisfied?'.

"...-Thank- you." he muttered, humming a chuckle, "Do not lose sight of your own well being in concern for me. I must stress, we have nothing but time."

Lithirill tilted her head at him as her eyelids drooped, well accustomed now to the odd heated popping in her ears as the Ambrosia did its work, blanketing the red pressure in her head and quieting the skittering under her skin.

"-Now- whose fretting?" she teased, setting down the flask so she could help him to stand, not letting his wings droop as she supported them from the base, "I don't intend to go hurrying into the arms of the Blue Death, I promise. Come now.~"

Twas a short jaunt to the spare bedroom within her personal quarters, Arkt leading the way and Lithirill matching his steps. The seraph counted his blessings that his pride could not be so easily wounded as she settled his wings into yet another set of slings, these ones arranged to allow them to safely hang whilst he rested. He knew -she- worried about such mental troubles, but he was far too old and that much more taken by fascination in all she insisted upon doing for him to care for foolish things like shame.

"Tell me something, Lithirill." he said, eyes on her as she arranged the vials that would help him sleep, and come the morn, ease his pain, "What do you suppose I'm meant to do in return for all of this?"

The question was laced with an undertone of playfulness that reminded her of when the seraph had taken an almost catty tone in Arktwend, all but making -gossip- of the infatuation between those who'd brought Narathzul into the world. She could only raise a brow at him in plain curiosity, willfully stepping into whatever trap this might have been.

"That is hardly a matter to burden the likely recipient, don't you think? Or am I -supposed- to be reading between some manner of line here?" The teasingly scrutinizing gaze she leveled upon him was nothing to the coy look he gave her beneath the messy strands of his hair, the two locked in a quiet contest before she relented; as she always did where he was concerned. "...ponder and plot all you like, my friend. But hold to that patience you've assured me with. I would say it is early yet to be planning anything more than recovery." she offered.

Arkt sighed through his nose at that, uncapping the cork to her sleeping drought and drinking it down with a quick chaser of water. Her answer was as good as any. Ponder and plot indeed then.

"Fair enough. Rest well, when you find it." he bid gently, offering only a smile. For a would be God according to most's definition, who had seen millennia pass and returned even from -death-, he seemed to be handling the life of a crippled patient quite well.

Lithirill could only take that profound patience and trust in her ability to heart; ensure no matter her doubts that she'd finish the job.

She returned the evening farewell and meandered to her own bed, falling upon it like a stone. All too swiftly would the sun rise, and the pair would be again until their great task of renewal was complete. Lithirill could only hope she'd be done by Spring.

~Fin~

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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

A/N: I hope you’re ready to feel things -Danny

Words: 3,875

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Unsteady’ -by X Ambassadors.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Common Ground.

The pain was so unbearable that she couldn't see, her veins were bursting, suddenly it was all darkness.

She knew the pain didn't belong in her body, and with one last effort, she pushed. Mel didn't know when she'd fallen to the ground, but when she opened her eyes they landed on Harry's, and she knew what she had to do, but he had to agree. However, Harry was currently not in charge of his body.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore..." The boy spoke, the voice that came out didn't belong to him. "If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy..."

"No," Mel breathed, fighting to ground herself, the pain was slowly vanishing, but she didn't know if it was because of her doings, or something far worse. "Harry, please..."

She felt him slipping away... then, just as she was losing hope, something tugged at the back of her mind.

Harry.

She thought of the day she'd gazed into his eyes wanting to give him the world, that day she had no idea of what that meant. Now she knew, but she didn't want to give it up anymore. Mel was making the biggest sacrifice she could think of: She would give up Harry and continue the fight. Somehow, she felt Harry making the same vow to her.

Voices echoed around the hall but Harry kept his eyes on her, she knew he couldn't possibly be seeing her since his glasses had fallen out of his face, but he was looking directly into her eyes as if he knew exactly where to find her soul.

The boy reached out to grab his glasses and carefully put them on, Dumbledore kneeled between them.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," Harry let his head fall with a soft thud, his eyes going back to her face. "Yeah, I'm — where's Voldemort, where — who are all these — what's —"

Dumbledore helped them up, Mel was too tired to question anything.

"He was there! I saw him, Mr Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"

"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too! Merlin's beard — here — here! — in the Ministry of Magic! — great heavens above — it doesn't seem possible — my word — how can this be?"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, catching everyone's attention. "You will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"Dumbledore!" Fudge panted. "You — here — I — I — Seize him!"

"Wouldn't do that if I were you —" Mel stepped forward but she stumbled, Harry held her back gently.

"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men — and win again! But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong men for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"

"I — don't — well — Very well — Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see... Dumbledore, you — you will need to tell me exactly — the Fountain of Magical Brethren — what happened?"

"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry and Mel back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.

"Harry — Harry Potter?" Fudge turned and stared at them, "Mel Dumbledore? He-here? Why — what's all this about?"

"I shall explain everything when they're back at school."

He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.

"Now see here, Dumbledore! You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister of Magic, you — you —"

Dumbledore turned to look at him as if he were tired to listen to his voice.

"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts. You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you... half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the headmaster will find me."

"I — you —"

"Take this Portkey."

Harry and Mel placed their hands on it, none of them uttered a word.

"I shall see you in half an hour. One... two... three..."

Dawn was approaching, which explained why she was so exhausted. Her hand was hurting and the cut next to her eye was swollen and pulsating. Still, none of that could compare to her grief.

So many things had happened that she didn't know what to address first. Her feet took her to the nearest chair and she slumped down, Harry paced around behind her and Mel curled up in her chair quietly, leaning her head on the armrest. She accidentally pressed a bump on her head she hadn't noticed before, they both hissed. Harry approached slowly, as if trying not to scare her away, but then someone else spoke.

"Ah... Harry Potter and Mel Dumbledore..."

Mel looked over Harry's shoulder to stare at Phineas' portrait.

"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning? This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me... Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Mel gulped, though her mouth was dry. She watched Harry turn and move to the entrance but it was useless, they were locked in.

"I hope this means, that Dumbledore will soon be back with us?" asked another portrait.

Mel nodded, the boy tried to discretely shove against the door with his back facing it. It was clear he didn't want to spend another second there, she couldn't blame him, a lot had happened.

"Oh, good. It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed. I suppose you're happy, Miss?" The man added. "You'll have your lessons again, I daresay you were remarkable last time. Dumbledore thinks very highly of you two, as I am sure you know. Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem..."

Whatever good thoughts Dumbledore had about them surely they were all gone by now. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she closed it again and cleared her throat to relieve the pressure. The fireplace burst into green flames, and Dumbledore stepped into the room.

"Thank you," Dumbledore walked directly to the perch and seated Fawkes in it. "Well... you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."

She fixed her eyes on the desk, ashamed and defeated, Harry was extremely quiet.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up now. You did a good job with Flint's injuries, Mel. I expect only the faintest mark to remain, which I'm sure he'll appreciate. Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems that she will make a full recovery..." He examined both teenagers and let out a short sigh. "I know how you are feeling."

"No, you don't," said Harry roughly.

"You see, Dumbledore? Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own —"

"That's enough, Phineas."

"Does my mother know?" Mel asked before her voice could vanish.

"Lupin decided to be the one to break the news for her," Dumbledore's voice sounded deep and tired. "You see, it was me who told her about Matthew the first time, and she didn't take it well. Lupin thinks that it might be better if he's the one to let her know this time —"

"He wanted to be there for the baby," Mel interrupted. "He was ready..."

"I know," Dumbledore replied. "He'll be there... There is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary... the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

"Our greatest strength, is it?" Harry scoffed. "You haven't got a clue... You don't know..."

"What don't I know?"

"I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?"

"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —"

"THEN — I — DON'T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!"

Harry grabbed one of the instruments Dumbledore used to practice during their lessons and threw it against a wall. Several portraits shouted. Mel, who at this point was used to his tantrums –though this was definitely the wildest so far– merely flinched, keeping her gaze on the desk.

"I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE —"

She didn't need any kind of connection to be able to know how he was feeling. She was tired, angry at her own shortcomings, she wanted to be able to burst into flames like Fawkes so she could start over.

"You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

"I — DON'T!"

"Oh yes, you do. You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. You think it's your fault Mel lost her chance to have a family, you think Emily will hate you. Of course you care."

Mel lifted her legs and hugged them tightly, hiding her face between her knees but still unable to cry. It was such a strange feeling, to be drowning in pain and yet having no way to get rid of the pressure.

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL! YOU — STANDING THERE — YOU —" There was a moment of silence in which Harry rushed back to the door and fought to open it. "Let me out."

"No."

"...Let me out."

"No."

"If you don't — if you keep me in here — if you don't let me —"

"By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I have too many."

Dumbledore stood and moments later a hand squeezed her shoulder lightly. She didn't look up, but through the gap between her knees, she could see his figure sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Let me out," Harry insisted.

"Not until I have had my say."

"Do you — do you think I want to — do you think I give a — I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY! I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"

"You will. Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it."

"No one's going to attack you," Mel replied.

"Maybe not," Dumbledore responded, "but if it does happen, I must ask you to stay out of it, Mel."

"What are you talking — ?" Harry started.

"It is my fault that Sirius died. Or I should say almost entirely my fault — I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. More so when he had a family that needed protection.

Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone. Please sit down."

Harry sat on the chair next to her.

"Am I to understand," said Phineas, "that my great-great-grandson — the last of the Blacks — is dead?"

"Yes, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "But I'm afraid you're wrong about one thing: The last Black remains. Sirius' son was born two days ago."

"With that Sultens, no less! And now he died? I don't believe it..." said Phineas, and she heard him leave.

"I owe you an explanation. An explanation of an old man's mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, and the instructions I gave Mel, bear all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young... and I seem to have forgotten lately."

Her legs gently slipped from the chair, her eyes tentatively rose to find Dumbledore's.

"I guessed, fifteen years ago, when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort. And when Mel and I talked during her second year, I knew about your connection."

"You've told us this before, Professor," said Harry impatiently.

"Yes. Yes, but you see — it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion."

"I know."

Dumbledore explained that when Harry was able to see Mr Weasley's attack, Voldemort realized he could use this connection to his advantage. Reason why Dumbledore asked Snape to teach Harry Occlumency.

He confessed that he'd decided to stay away from Harry in an attempt to keep Voldemort from spying through Harry's eyes. He made sure Voldemort wouldn't be able to use Mel's friendship with Harry by teaching her how to close her mind and handle her emotions.

This explained why Harry had been so angry whenever he was near Dumbledore those times before, he was possessed to an extent, and she could only be thankful to whatever it was that had kept Voldemort from using the boy to hurt others.

Mel felt ashamed. All those times in which she let her childish behaviour get in the way, choosing to turn a blind eye on Harry's problems, it was her fault, not Dumbledore's.

"But I didn't practice, I didn't bother, I could've stopped myself having those dreams," Harry said desperately. "Hermione kept telling me to do it, Mel tried to teach me, if I had he'd never have been able to show me where to go, and — Sirius wouldn't — Sirius wouldn't —"

"I never really tried," Mel said bitterly. "I was so happy with my normal life that I never worried about the responsibilities I was ignoring. I never thought Voldemort would try to... It seems so obvious now, I was so foolish..."

"We tried to check he'd really taken Sirius," Harry told Dumbledore, trying to explain why they'd acted the way they did. "We went to Umbridge's office, I spoke to Kreacher in the fire, and he said Sirius wasn't there, he said he'd gone!"

"Kreacher lied. You are not his master, he could lie to you without even needing to punish himself. Kreacher intended you to go to the Ministry of Magic."

"He — he sent me on purpose?"

"Oh yes. Kreacher, I am afraid, has been serving more than one master for months."

"How? He hasn't been out of Grimmauld Place for years."

"Kreacher seized his opportunity shortly before Christmas, when Sirius, apparently, shouted at him to 'get out.' He took Sirius at his word and interpreted this as an order to leave the house. He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left... Black's cousin Narcissa, sister of Bellatrix and wife of Lucius Malfoy."

"How do you know all this?"

"Kreacher told me last night..."

Snape did try to contact Sirius after Harry's warning. He'd discovered he was alive and well, taking care of Emily and his son. However, when none of them returned from their walk into the forbidden forest he realized something had gone wrong. He alerted the order, and by doing so, he alerted Dumbledore as well.

"He was laughing?" Harry asked in outrage.

"Oh yes. You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally. He is not Secret-Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoys our whereabouts or tell them any of the Order's confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed much too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the world was you and the Sultens. Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. That he was expecting a child... Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, that you knew where he was — but Kreacher's information made him realize that the one person whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black. Both of you."

"So... when I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night..."

She could not phantom how any creature could be that cruel, but alas, Voldemort was real and alive, and he'd been doing horrible things to many good people.

"My god," Mel breathed. "How did we mess up like this..."

"And Kreacher told you all this... and laughed?" Harry repeated. "And... and Hermione kept telling us to be nice to him —"

"She was quite right, Harry. I warned Sirius when we adopted twelve Grimmauld Place as our headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think that Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a humans —"

"Don't you blame — don't you — talk — about Sirius like — Kreacher's a lying — foul — he deserved —"

"Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry. Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius's bidding because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier —"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT!"

Harry leapt to his feet and Mel made an attempt to stand up as well, the man sat her back down gently.

"Don't," He said. "I won't let you attack each other like you've been doing this whole year."

"What about Snape?" Harry said harshly. "You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual —"

"Harry, you know that Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge, but as I have explained, he informed the Order as soon as possible about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the forest. It was he too who gave Professor Umbridge fake Veritaserum when she was attempting to force you and Mel to tell of Sirius's whereabouts..."

"Snape — Snape g-goaded Sirius about staying in the house — he made out Sirius was a coward —"

"Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him."

"Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons! He threw me out of his office!"

"I am aware of it. I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself, though I was sure, at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence —"

"Snape made it worse, my scar always hurt worse after lessons with him — How do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort, make it easier for him to get inside my —"

"I trust Severus Snape. But I forgot — another old man's mistake — that some wounds run too deep for the healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father — I was wrong."

"But that's okay, is it? It's okay for Snape to hate my dad, but it's not okay for Sirius to hate Kreacher?"

"Sirius did not hate Kreacher. He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike... The fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward."

"SO SIRIUS DESERVED WHAT HE GOT, DID HE?"

"You're not listening," Mel growled, Dumbledore's hand tightened its grip on her shoulder.

"I did not say that, nor will you ever hear me say it. Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated."

"Yeah, he did hate it!" Harry walked away. "You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that's why he wanted to get out last night —"

"I was trying to keep Sirius alive, but I dismissed exactly how much he wanted to do the same with you."

"People don't like being locked up! You did it to me all last summer —"

Dumbledore sighed and hid his face behind both hands. For a moment, Mel stupidly thought he'd burst into tears, however, he emerged with resolution.

"It is time for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. And I guess that, in a way, in concerns you too, Mel. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me — to do whatever you like — when I have finished. I will not stop you."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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powerfultenderness · 4 years ago

Text

The Baker’s Daughter

Title: The Baker’s Daughter

Rating: T

Pairing: TWM/Reader.

Summary: When the Red Paladins make a stop in town you meet their fearsome Weeping Monk. Only, he might not be as fearsome as they say.

Word count: 2464

Warnings: cliches and fluff.

Notes: 2nd POV. Female reader.

[Masterlist]

Red Paladins. The mere sight of them was enough to make you shiver in fear. Although you certainly had nothing to fear from them. You were human and a good and upstanding citizen of the town. Still, the Paladins behavior and attitude evoked a sense of dread that matched their bloody garb. The most frightening of them all was no ordinary paladin. The Weeping Monk. The only red he wore were the tear stains flowing down his face. Well...that’s what they said anyways. You weren’t sure why the man was weeping blood, or even if that was real or just a rumor. Either way, a man who frightened even the other paladins must be fearsome indeed.

Your father woke every morning well before sunrise to bake, and though you’d sometimes help, your job was to take the goods to the town square to sale. You spotted the red cloaks just an hour after sunrise. Your father liked when they were in town, as did other artisans, as they often had enough gold to patronize many. So you steeled yourself for some scrutinizing looks (they were always so intimidating!) But there was no preparing yourself for what you saw next.

There was a young man walking alongside an elder paladin, a man who you would later find out was Father Carden, leader of the Red Paladins. Not that you were interested in that august man. Instead, as the young man looked at the elder man, you happened to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Even with his face hidden under a hood, you could see that azure. He would have had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen, but that they were devoid of emotion. They did not react to whatever the other man said to him. Perhaps more interestingly, faded streaks of red poured from his eyes.

He caught you staring at him, you’re certain, for though it was just a second, maybe two, his eyes locked with yours. Whatever he thought of you, no doubt determining the level of threat you offered him (none!), he quickly looked away, hid his face under his hood again and walked away.

That man had to be the Weeping Monk. Now you knew the rumors to be true: Among the Red Paladins was a man with blood stained tears trailing down his face.

A woman coughed politely and snapped you out of your reverie. As you filled her order, and those of other customers, you were haunted by visions of the Weeping Monk. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see his: Pools of a sadly dull blue surrounded by a sea of dusty red.

You sold the last two loaves of a hardy dinner bread just around noon. That was the bulk of your father’s business, common folk buying what they needed for dinner. Which made sense, of course, but was also kind of a shame. Your absolute favorite thing to bake were sweet cakes and pies. It wasn’t just the sweetness, but to watch someone’s expression of genuine enjoyment and even happiness that came from biting into something that you made was something else entirely. Perhaps if you baked enough pies for the whole of the Red Paladins, they’d calm down! And maybe, just maybe, even The Weeping Monk’s eyes would sparkle.

You were done with the evenings sales, which usually went by quickly in any case, with some daylight to spare. It was mid summer and with berries at their peak you decided to forage for some wild berries. Sure you could buy some from one of the local farmers, but you figured your father would appreciate your money saving initiative.

There was a river only a few miles from town, that which the town drew most of its fresh water from. Around its banks was good foraging of mushrooms, tubers and berries. In addition to fishing, one needn’t go hungry in the summer months. So it was that in no time you had half a basket of wild berries.

You were so busy thinking of what you would be baking (and only half thinking about how the Weeping Monk would react to whatever it was you baked!), that you didn’t notice a couple of men approaching you. Not until a rough hand forced you to turn around.

Though you were met with two men, the first thing you saw was the color red. Two Red Paladins. You sighed, believing you had no reason to fear them. “Oh sirs, you frightened me. Can I help you?”

The man who grabbed you grinned, a deceptively nice thing of clean teeth and pretty dimples. His friend didn’t have nearly as nice a smile, his was that of a predator. “Aye, little lady. See, our camp’s gone quite cold, we were wanting a pretty local to help...warm us up.”

Your smile dropped and you tried to step back. You weren’t expecting such a crude response from Red Paladins, men associated with the Church. Although your more cynical friends and family would caution you to be weary of these men especially.

“Uhm...I would suggest a campfire?” You tried to step out of the man’s grasp again, and again his grip strengthened.

The man pulled you forward, forcing you to trip over your feet and stumble into his chest. “No. We were thinking something a little more fun.”

“Were you now?” A deep and slightly gravelly voice interrupted.

The three of you looked towards the voice and you sucked in a surprised breath along with the two paladins.

“You! What are you doing here?” The one who didn’t grab you asked, his voice half accusatory and half angry.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The Weeping Monk stepped out of the tree line, lifting his face just enough that his blood stained glare looked even more menacing in the fading sunlight.

The two men stuttered out some nonsensical excuse as the monk took another step closer. Soon they were gone, not quite running but moving fast enough that even you could see their fear.

“Are you hurt?”

His gaze met yours for a second time that day and for a second time you could do nothing but get lost in his eyes.

He sighed and took a step back, not that he was close to you! “I won’t hurt you.”

You blinked as you processed his words. “No! Uhm. I mean. I’m not hurt. Thanks to you, sir. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t come along. So, thank you?”

Great. You meet the man you’d been thinking about all day and all you could do was ramble. You tried your best to ignore the heat spreading across your face as you picked up the fallen basket of foraged berries. Even as you scooped up a few berries that had taken a tumble onto the ground, you could feel him watching you.

For his part, the Weeping Monk hadn’t moved from his spot, what little you could see of his expression, for he had moved his hood down, was unreadable. Was he judging you? Angry at his fellows? Or just bored?

He made a sound, something between a sigh and a chuckle, and turned slightly. “I am heading back to the village.”

You didn’t miss the invitation to join him, or rather to have him escort you back. “Oh!” You practically leapt to his side. “Thank you, again, sir.”

He made a humming sound, acknowledging your words but said nothing in return.

By the time you made it back to the road the sun had fallen completely and you realized just how far from town you had actually walked. How careless of you!

The monk seemed to think you were careless too. “It’s dangerous so far from town.”

You tried to hide a wince. “I didn’t mean to travel so far. I just got caught up in foraging. And, and I thought with the Red Paladins camping outside of the village grounds, that I’d be safe from bandits and the like...I didn’t expect…”

You stopped when you noticed lamp light illuminate two robed figures on the road ahead. Even from that distance you could tell that the two paladins were not the same that attacked you, but that didn’t stop your instinctual reaction to hide from them. Thankfully the monk beside you was observant enough to notice. He took a sideways step, closer to you. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and close enough that you wanted to slide your arm into his. But you restrained yourself, he was a monk for goodness sake, not a gentleman caller walking you home!

You looked up at him and realized that you didn't even know his name. “I’m sorry, sir, it was rude of me not to introduce myself.” You began and gave him your name.

Again he acknowledged you, this time with a nod, but he said nothing in return.

“May I have your name?”

He glanced at you from under his hood, only a hint of blue visible in such low light as star light.

“So that I may properly thank you. Please?”

He looked back to the road, “They call me the Weeping Monk.”

You gave out a quiet huff of air, half a laugh. “Well they call me the baker’s daughter but that’s not my name!”

Once more the monk was silent.

“Oh. How long has it been since anyone has used your real name?”

“Many years.”

“I see. Well then, you shall simply have to respond to “Hey you!”

“That’s not the worst thing I’ve been called.”

You chuckled, was that a sense of humor peeking out from under that hood?

By now you had turned into town and were on the path to your father’s house. While it wasn’t quite late, the house and outside lamps were lit higher than usual. He was a sweet man, a pacifist, and always very worried about you.

Your father rushed out of the house, yelling your name in both relief and exasperation. “There you are! I’ve been searching for you since sundown! I was about to alert the city guard!”

You sighed, it wasn’t that long past sundown! And yet, after what you experienced perhaps his anxieties were warranted. “I’m alright, father. This fine monk here was kind enough to walk me home.”

The Weeping Monk looked up just enough to nod at your father, revealing his face enough that your father could see him in the lamplight. If you had heard about the Weeping Monk then your father certainly had. He noticed the monk’s eyes, or rather the blood stains under his eyes and his distress was suddenly doused.

“I see. Thank you for seeing my daughter safely home.”

The monk took a step away from you, either as a way to assuage any unease he read from your father or to signal that he was leaving. You moved from his side to stand beside your father and gave the monk a small bow, “Yes, thank you, sir.”

The monk returned your bow with a slight inclination of his head. For a final time that day you stared into those haunting blue eyes, the edge of your world dusty red of tears.

You spent the rest of the night baking hardy and sweetened traveling scones. As the sweets were cooling you gathered some cloth to bundle them in. Only you weren’t sure which cloth to choose.

“This one.”

You jumped, surprised by your father's appearance.

“Father! It’s late. You should be sleeping.”

He smiled fondly at you and handed you a simple looking cloth of a dull gray color. Not one of the ones you were considering but it did remind you of the monk’s rather plain color palate.

“He’s not a flashy man.” Your father reasoned as he moved about the kitchen.

He took the jar of vanilla beans, the most expensive ingredient and a treasure in its own right. He then poured the beans out onto the cloth.

“What are you doing?”

He wrapped the cloth around the beans, “Let them sit overnight. When he has finished the scones, the cloth will smell of the vanilla. And remind him of you.”

“Oh!” What a great idea!

Your father smiled at you once more, “It is how I won your mother’s love.”

Your face heated up with a blush, “He’s a monk, father, not-”

He chuckled, “Yes, yes. Of course he is.”

That morning was busy and many times you caught sight of what you thought was the gray garbed monk, only to be disappointed. You were beginning to think you would make a lunch of wild berry scones when you saw the familiar gray colors of your favorite monk. He was walking in the opposite direction of where your stall was, so you had to risk calling out to him or miss him for who knows how long.

“Hey you!”

The monk stopped and slowly turned. You could have sworn there was a slight smirk on his face when he turned but by the time he reached your stall his face was neutral.

You smiled at him and held up the wrapped package, with a half portion of a scone on top. “For you. To thank you for helping me last night, the fruits of last night's foraging.”

Gently, almost as if he were afraid to touch you, he took the package and broke a piece off the small offering. As he bit into the scone you could see him contemplating the flavors, enjoying the sweet and tangy berries and the slightly caramelized sugar coating. And a small smile formed at his lips, where he had just a crumb lingering. Most wonderful of all, that smile reached his eyes! A brilliant sparkle glistening among that beautiful deep sea blue. Even the tears that stained his face seemed less sorrowful.

He inclined his head slightly in thanks, “Delicious.”

“Thank you!” Not even the strongest of magics could stop the happy warmth that filled you as he finished eating the offered treat with eagerness, especially as his tongue quickly slid across his lips to savor every last crumb.

“Lancelot.”

“Hmm? Lancelot?”

He nodded once and, you were so enamored with his smile that it took a second more than you would have liked to realize that he was giving you his name.

You smiled and glanced down for a moment to cover up your embarrassment. “Well, don’t worry, Lancelot, your secret is safe with me.”

This time the smile that crossed his face was not hidden, though it was short lived, and he returned to his stoic demeanor when he turned around. But you would never forget that smile.

#the weeping monk #twm lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #lancelot x reader

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allycryz · 4 years ago

Note

Thancred x Nerys x Haurchefant for either Spring Prompt 4 or Spicy Prompt 10

I went with Spicy Prompt 10 (Praise Kink). For some background context the loose timeline right now is

Lakeland Invasion -> Emissary Haurchefant goes in disguise to infiltrate Eulmore as a soldier -> Amh Araeng- -> Thancred and Nerys get back together -> Than and Nerys hook up with Emet -> Save Eulmore/Haurchefant -> Reunion Sex with Haurche turns into Thancred and Haurche Hooking Up for First Time

This is set after that while they work on the Ladder

Rated E, not for Everyone, Haurchefant gets praised and pampered

"Early tomorrow," says Thancred, wiping a forearm over his brow. His coat is a long abandoned pile on the lumber. "Should be ready to go by then, I think."

"Well ahead of schedule then." Nerys sits on the ground, propping her back against said lumber. They'd made her rest during the morning but she had made up for it during the afternoon.

Better to have the distraction of work while she processed her earlier conversation with Emet-Selch.

"Come sit." She curls a finger at him. He looks...magnificent in the tight black shirt, his muscled arms shown to advantage. More than one of the laborers gives him an appreciative glance.

"If I sit, I might not stand." He grins. "Did you see everything Chai-Nuzz had me haul around today?"

"Oh come now, you've had far more taxing days."

"After you and Haurchefant wore me out two days and nights in a row?" His grin grows bigger now and she can't help but return it.

She had imagined of course–what it might be like to have them both. Especially after she and Thancred reconciled. But she hadn't dared hope the two men would fit together as well as they did.

"So what was everything we did up until then? A warmup?"

"Well...Haurchefant is a wellspring of energy. Speaking of..."

The man himself strides towards them, clad in the golden armor bestowed upon him when he became the Crystarium's Emissary. There are appreciative glances for him too, but also double-takes.

There was a fairly recent addition in Eulmore; one of the soldiers who defected from the Crystarium after Vauthry's attack on Lakeland. A tall, black-haired, friendly fellow named Edmont Grey.

The glamour on his features is gone but there were enough similarities between the two handsome profiles. Those who didn't know must wonder if this man is related to the affable soldier.

"I hoped I might find you together," he says. "Am I allowed to steal you away yet?"

"We were about to discuss that," says Nerys. "Thancred worries he cannot keep up with you, my lord."

Thancred nudges her arm with the toe of his boot. "Don't go spreading lies, sweetheart."

"If anything it should be the reverse. You two have been at work on the ladder all day while I have been spent the past hours in meetings or traveling via Amaro and Aetheryte." Haurchefant steps closer to Thancred, running a hand down the front of the tight black material. "Never fear, where I'm taking you has all the amenities to unwind."

Thancred watches the path of the gauntleted fingers as they stroke over his midriff. "And where is that?"

"You'll see." Haurchefant turns to Nerys, extending a hand. She takes it and finds herself hauled up, tugged against his chest to receive a soft kiss. "Hello."

"Hello." She slips her arms about his neck, shivering as Thancred presses a hand to her lower back. "You may take us away, my lord. Alphi will tell the others where we have gone."

"Hm?" Haurchefant glances around, till he spots what Nerys had a few moments ago: Alphi trying not to get flustered seeing three of his comrades positioned as they were. He is a good ten yalms away and Haurchefant lifts a hand to wave emphatically. "Hello Alphinaud! I shall be borrowing these two, take care of the others!"

"Right," the youth calls back. Looking pointedly at their faces and not their hands. "Good evening!"

"When I was his age," Haurchefant says to the other two. "It had stopped surprising me when the knights retired to a single bunk, two or three at a time. We squires just made ourselves scarce for the evening."

"He admires you a great deal," says Nerys. "Maybe that's part of it."

"And you. And Thancred, of course."

"Mm, do not try to flatter me. That boy saw me at all my absolute worst and at best thinks of me as a wayward brother." Thancred sighs. "At least he doesnt delight in spilling about my past like Urianger and Alisaie."

"Sweet Urianger is an imp," says Haurchefant. "However, he did help me secure our destination. Please hold on tight."

They do and it is no hardship to embrace thus. Haurchefant wraps them in teleportation magicks, whirling them away from Kholusia…

...and to the colorful wilds of Il Mheg. They stand before a little cottage Nerys recognizes from her hunting ventures. Abandoned, not all that far from Lydha Lran. Or–it had been abandoned but looks freshly cleaned and aired out.

Haurchefant holds up a hand and opens the door. "The game was that if they did not touch anything, I would give them something fun and sugary."

"And we did not!" A voice giggles above them. Three pixies hover above, watching expectantly.

"Yes, it look quite well looked after.." He produces a handful of colorful paper straws sealed at both ends. "Tear off whichever end you like and you can eat the treat inside."

"...Haurche," Thancred says, eyes gleaming with mirth. "Are those-"

"We thank you Haurchefant," one of the pixies cooes. "It is too bad you won't play with us to-day…"

"Ah, but another day I should like to. Hide and seek the next time I am here?"

They nod, flying away with a burst of magic. None too soon because Thancred has to duck into the house and explode with laughter. The sound is like a balm to Nerys' heart–it has been too long since he made a sound of pure and utter delight like that.

"Well," Haurcefant says, grinning. "There must be a reason the Crystarium merchants call it that. The fae love sugar."

"Good gods, Haurchafant," Thancred leans against the small dining table for support. Careful not to muss the place settings though it is a very near thing.

"It was a good idea," Nerys says, stifling her giggle. "It's no tricking them into making your tea but…"

“I prefer honest bribery with pixie sticks rather than elaborate ruses." Haurchefant grips her hand, urging her to take one of the chairs. The ache is getting worse the past few days, the churning of the light in her belly. So she doesn't protest.

He steps over to a small ice chest and gathers up items for the table--cheese, cold cuts, fruit, a bottle of sweet Kholusian white. Butter to go with the loaf of bread he takes from a cabinet. "I...may have had a bell or two prior to bring things here, after my meetings."

"Look at that." Thancred steps over to him, laying an almost tentative hand on his arm. "You're a good man, Haurche."

Haurchefant beams under the compliment and the touch. Nerys watches the pull between them in silence, the hesitation before Thancred curls a hand in his hair and tugs him down. Kisses him soft and sweet, his murmur barely audible. "Very good."

She knows well the shiver that goes through Haurchefant. Nerys stands, needing a moment of support from the chair before walking over to them. Burying her hands in the soft fabric of Haurchefant's blue cape. "This was lovely of you, finding a private place and preparing this food for us."

"Truly, it is the least I might do." Haurchefant turns his head towards her. "And all I did was cut up some of the offerings."

"Still." Nerys finds the clasp of his cloak and removes the bilious garment. She peers over his shoulder at Thancred who gives her a minute nod. "Its exactly what we needed."

"Perfect." Thancred looks around the small space–the kitchenette, the table, and the largish bed in the corner. They'll have to huddle but that is fine. His gaze returns to Haurche and he smirks a little. "You're perfect."

"I know what you two are doing," Haurchefant says in a sing-song way. He moves his arms to let Thancred remove his cuirass. Sighs when his shoulders are bare and Nerys rubs soothing fingers into his shoulders.

"But it's working," she sing-songs back. "Let us take care of you, please."

"My love…" He turns in the circle of their arms, pressing his palms against her cheeks. His bright eyes bore into her and there is no hiding from him. There never is. "You need care as well I think."

"I do," she admits. "It will make me feel good to do this."

"And with that you have trapped me," he presses his forehead to hers. "As you take care of me, please let our Thancred also take care of you."

Our Thancred. Her heart flutters at that and she kisses him, her gratitude and joy permeating the contact.

Haurchefant's armor disappears piece by piece until he is pressed between them, cloth the only barrier left. Thancred tugs his lips down, dropping praise against his ear. "You're gorgeous in the armor and even better like this. And those hands-"

Those hands slide over Thancred who groans in appreciation. The three of them move in a tangle to the bed. Nerys feels hands on her own hips and chest, though it’s hard to tell at first who is touching what. Only that they're petting her, peeling off her leathers and tugging loosely at her short hair.

She finds Haurchefant's ear and sucks lightly at the tip. "Do you know how beautiful you look right now? You almost never blush but…"

At that, the faint pink across Haurchefant's cheek grows. He sighs, turning his body to face hers and rubbing her hip. "This is the effect you have on me, beloved."

"Not just her, I hope." Thancred slips his arms about him from behind.

"Not just her. You're an attractive man, Thancred."

"Indecently so." Nerys adds. "He could bat those eyelashes at a king and receive half a kingdom."

"You forget, they called me Thancred of the Silver Tongue when I was a young and wild bard." That same tongue traces Haurchefant's jaw. "I am more than a...what did you say once? Infuriatingly handsome face?"

Nerys grins. "Alright then, please demonstrate how good you are with that silver miracle."

"Verbally or..." He slides his tongue into Haurchefant's mouth, kissing him into a pliant puddle of limbs. They're dazzling together–Thancred half-propped over the other man, hand curled about the knight' cheek. He directs Haurchefant's limbs upward, above his head. "Good boy."

Haurchefant groans. "What wickedness do you have planned for me?"

"No plan, moving as we are inspired to." Thancred presses a hand over his chest, kneading Haurchefant's pectoral through his shirt. "You're so beautiful Haurche, you drive a man wild. Whenever I look at you I think seven hells, how can we mortals be so lucky."

"Ha-I thought you were the pretty one," Haurchefant gasps, hands flexing above his head. "There-keep rubbing right there."

Nerys cannot hold herself back anymore, adding her hand to the ministrations. Slipping it beneath his shirt to cup the other pec, circle the nipple with her thumb. He starts to jerk forward, to reach for her-and then keeps his hands where they are above his head.

"You're so obedient for us," she says, kissing the underside of his jaw. "So good and sweet "

He sighs. "I would do anything for you."

"We know." Her lips travel to the column of his throat. The words fumble a little--Thancred and Haurchefant are good at reciting a litany of praises. She doesn't talk quite as much during.

As if he senses her doubts, Thancred grins at her and picks up where she leaves off. "How lucky we are, to have someone this giving and beautiful in our bed. Will you do us a favor, lovely one? Will you let us suck your cock?"

Haurchefant groans like a man wounded. "Fury, you don't even have to ask-"

"Of course we do." Their hands are quick at Haurchefant's laces, shoving down the supple leather leggings and the smalls all at once. They draw him out: already hard and in need of their succor.

"You look amazing like this," Nerys says. "So still and good, and needing us to take care of you. And one of the prettiest cocks I've ever seen."

"Agree," says Thancred. "And we've both seen enough to know. Yours is by far one of the best."

Haurchefant groans, disobeying so that he might cover his eyes with a forearm. "You two will destroy me before I even feel your mouths on me."

"Look at us," Nerys begs and he lifts the arm. His lips are parted, his cheeks flushed, his eyes blown wide with desire. "There. I want your eyes on us, and not just because they're exquisite."

Thancred nods his approval at that. "And promise to be vocal, so we know when we're doing a good job."

"You have my vow."

"Good boy." Thancred licks a stripe along one side of the shaft and Nerys the other, meeting in an open mouthed kiss at the head. Haurchefant obliges them with a moan and some very improper Ishgardian curses. "Nerys, suckle him."

She obeys without hesitation, drawing the swollen head into her mouth. A gentle but insistent hand cups the back of her neck, lips brush her cheek and whisper, "Good girl."

Nerys shivers. If she isn't careful, Thancred will have her as overwhelmed as Haurchefant is.

The pressure increases until she takes more of Haurchefant, savoring him with the flat of her tongue even as her jaw aches and he slides further into her throat. She watches as Thancred changes his angle, drawing the heavy sac into his mouth while she bobs up and down the shaft.

Haurchefant gasps, hands once again reaching for them before he returns them above his head. Thancred draws himself up and murmurs something into his ear-too quiet for Nerys to parse but Haurche’s cock twitches in her mouth with each syllable.

She looks up and can see Haurchefant's eyes shut tight, his breathing growing faster. Nerys takes a shallow breath through her nose and takes him deeper. It is never an easy feat, big as he is, but she wants this for her dear knight.

Haurchefant gasps, pressing his face into Thancred's shoulder. The words become louder, probably for her benefit.

"Look how she takes you, big boy that you are. That's how much she wants to make you feel good. You deserve to feel good-"

"Thancred," Haurchefant pants. "Nerys, I don’t have much control left-"

"Yes you do. We know you do." Thancred slides back down, tugging Nerys away with gentle hands. Putting his own mouth upon Haurchefant's straining cock.

"There you go," Nerys says, cupping his sack with gentle fingers before subtly increasing the pressure. "Our lovely knight has so much control left."

"Yours," Haurchefant sobs. "Yours, I'm yours-"

"Ours," she hums, lips pressing to the base of his shaft where neither of them can manage to swallow. "Our wonderful, perfect Haurche."

His back arches and she can feel the control shaking through him, the strain to hold back and be good for them.

Nerys' eyes meet Thancred. He pulls off with a gentle pop and their twined hands replace their mouths, their mouths hover close to the head.

"Come for us," Thancred says, drawing their hands quick over the spit-slicked cock. "We need you."

"Please," says Nerys and it seems to be the last straw for Haurchefant, who comes with a desperate yell. Painting their faces, their open mouths. He babbles through it–declarations of love and need that twine with the other two's fervent praise.

He sags into the mattress, as if it might cocoon him. Tugs at their hair and arms until they rise to meet him with slow, tender kisses.

"You did so good," she tells him and he smiles.

"So did you. And you, dear Thancred. Silver tongue indeed."

"He's very good with it." Nerys says, curling against her love. And then seeing the mischievous glint in his eye. Uh oh.

"Oh really?" Haurchefant smirks. "I think I need to see it again, on a willing test subject. Do you volunteer?"

Her own need pulses between her legs and she nods. Swallows. "Yes, I think I do."

"Good girl," says Thancred, as he crawls over to her, a leg swinging over her waist. "Shall we?"

#lemon #nerys eluned #haurchefant greystone #thancred waters #haurchefant x wol x thancred #///////////////////////////////nsfw #food cw #COMPERSION #ally writes

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hanaasbananas · 4 years ago

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100 Ways to say I Love You Chapter 44

I dreamt about you last night (Adrinette)

AO3

10th September 1915

My dearest Adrien,

I pray that my letter finds you in good health and that the war has not taken a terrible toll on you. The soldiers who have arrived on leave tell awfully dreadful stories about what it is like to anyone who will listen, and just the thought of you enduring such things was enough to make me terribly sick.

I could barely stand to listen to it, but thankfully, Alya saw how ghastly pale my face had become and made an excuse for us to leave.

Oh, listen to me! You must think me such a terrible woman-barely able to stomach hearing about the war when it is you who is fighting in it.

Darling I do miss you so terribly. Why, I even dreamt about you last night—I dreamt of when we had first begun to see each other—remember those long, long walks in the park when you were so skittish and longed only to hold my hand? And then how you first kissed me underneath that large oak tree, and afterwards, the only thing I could think to say was ‘finally!’ as I had been waiting for you to do that for so many weeks?

The strangest thing of all was that when I awoke, I felt your presence so keenly beside me that I dared not open my eyes. I must have laid there for ten minutes or more with my eyes screwed tightly shut just so that I could pretend that you were there.

There are a thousand more things that I could write, but maman is calling for me now, so this shall have to suffice. I will eagerly await your letter, as I have all the rest.

Yours always,

Marinette

Darling Marinette,

22/9/15

I do not believe there is a single person in this world who could think of you as terrible, least of all me. How could I, when you are such an extraordinarily kind, beautiful woman, and the owner of my heart?

While it is true that the suffering here is great—there is not much that those soldiers could exaggerate about this place—you should not worry about what I am enduring, for even when the rifle fire and shrapnel fires over head, and even when we have been in the trenches up to our waists in water, the cold and miserable experience is alleviated when I think of you.

The others ask me how I manage to remain as optimistic as I—or at least not as glum and downtrodden—and I have taken to telling them that I have a lucky charm. I thought you’d like that nickname.

My lucky charm.

I must confess that my greatest fear in these trenches is not that I may die. Rather, it is that you may forget me; that some other man may sweep you off your feet while I am gone and I shall return to you looking at me with a polite smile as if we are mere acquaintances. I do not think that I could stand such a thing. You have no idea then, of the joy it brought me to read your last letter and learn that you dream of me as I do you. Even so, I hope that soon, we will not have to dream of each other, for the distance between us will be gone and you will be in my arms instead.

With all my love,

Adrien

30th September 1915

My dearest Adrien,

Firstly, I am very cross that you would think that I could love another when I have you. It does not matter a whit to me how long you have been gone, or will be gone, only that you return safely to me so that we may wed and I can put all of your fears to rest.

It pleases me greatly that I am able to help you even just a little from so far away, as I have been feeling rather useless lately with everything that is going on with the war effort. Knowing that I am your lucky charm (how sweet! I could not stop smiling all morning when I read that) has put me in a fantastically cheerful mood, though I suspect that you knew that would be the outcome when you wrote the words.

Secondly, I read a book recently that Alya had let me borrow, and it contained the most romantic thing-I immediately thought that we must try it as well. Every night, we should look up at the moon, and take comfort in the fact that though we are apart, we look at the same sky, at the same moon. Perhaps some nights, we may find ourselves looking at it at the same time and may feel the others presence, even just a little, while we do so.

Oh please, lets try it! Isn’t it just the most romantic thing?

Love always,

Marinette

P.S maman and papa send their regards, and wish you well

P.P.S I have enclosed a small photograph of myself for you. If I am to be your lucky charm, then you should have a talisman as well, don’t you think?

7/10/15

Darling Marinette,

I cannot thank you enough for that photograph you sent me, for it is a balm to my soul to be able to look upon your face. Though I must admit that my yearning for you has grown ever stronger as a result. Where before I only dreamed of you and was satisfied, now, my fingers itch to run through your hair, to touch your soft skin, and feel the hot blush that blooms against your cheeks. I regret it now, how I took for granted the time I had with you, I did not appreciate it enough, and now I feel those days like something sharp in my heart.

The only thing I could think to do was look at the moon, as you requested, and you were right. Knowing that you are standing out there on your balcony, doing the same, and thinking of me has bought me an immeasurable amount of comfort. Especially now, when it is so very difficult to remain true to myself.

It has been so difficult Marinette.

They say that war changes a man, and it is true—I have seen many of my fellow soldiers lose themselves as this terrible war progresses. And yet, in the darkest of times, when I am in the deepest pits of despair and feel as though I will never escape; when I feel that I will never return back from this war to hold you, and kiss you, and marry you; I find myself looking at your words, and your photograph, and I think of your heart as my light, burning so very brightly and tethering me to the earth, allowing me to return to myself.

To return to you.

With all my love,

Adrien

#ok but this was actually so fun #wasn't sure about it when i started writing but experimenting do be good #and i mean. I love READING stories told through letters so i guess it was high time i wrote one?#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #100 ways to say i love you

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 4 years ago

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The Snake and The Frog

Pairings: Romantic Moceit, platonic moxiety

"The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children." William Shakespeare.

Patton, cursed by an unknown sorcerer, is now forced to live his life as a frog, alone in the forest. That is until he meets a snake named Janus, a fellow cursed being.

AO3 - Here

Having only four, webbed fingers was something Patton wasn’t sure he’d ever truly get used to, not to mention being one-tenth his size. The long tongue was odd too, and many nights he went hungry because he still wasn’t quite sure how to catch his food. Not to say he wanted to eat disgusting things like crickets or flies, but Patton wasn’t too sure that he could walk up to the local baker and ask for a cookie without being squashed.

Overall, life as a cursed one was something he never believed he could get the hang of completely.

Only two weeks ago, Patton had been an ordinary twenty-three-year-old man, enjoying his life as the son of a wealthy tenet master who owned most of the land the local farmers worked. Every day was spent with games and fun, he never had a care in the world. He and his best friend, a sorcerer named Virgil, would hang out at his father’s estate, doing whatever they wanted.

That is, until a strange young man, about his age, appeared at their doorstep. He didn’t see it coming, but without any warning or caution, Patton felt the world fall away from him and turn black. When he woke up, the man was gone, and he had been turned into a frog.

Distraught, his father hadn’t recognized his own son in that amphibian’s body and cast him out of the estate, dumping him in the forest that surrounded his home.

Patton had tried to return home several times within the last few weeks, but he had always been attacked and chased away by the guards that once protected him.

He hadn’t given up, however, and continuously made plans to sneak his back into his home and show his father that he was, in fact, his son.

But first, he would try to catch the firefly floating over the lake.

Hopping over the lily pads, a bit clumsily as he still wasn’t used two his new body even after a fortnight, he chased after the firefly, aiming his tongue unskillfully and missing the bug each time. Patton whined and whimpered to himself, feeling pity for the little fly that was just trying to go about its day, but the growling in his stomach reminded him that he couldn’t give up, and he continued to chase after the firefly. However, while he was so engrossed with his own bit of hunting, Patton failed to notice that he, himself, was being hunted as well. As quick as a flick, right as Patton was finally about to nab the little fly, a yellow head popped out of a nearby bush and struck him, capturing Patton in its wide jaws.

“Ah! Please don’t eat me!” He shrieked, flailing wildly as he was pulled off of his lilypad and back onto shore.

However, as soon as he was back over the ground, away from the lake where he had been hunting, he was quickly let go and dropped. Still too stunned by the attack to flee, and much too scared to try and fight, Patton huddled on the ground, covering his eyes with his little webbed hands, waiting for the final strike to come.

“You… talked?” A cool and elegant voice said in surprise.

Confused as to who had just spoken to him, Patton looked up and around for a human but found only a yellow corn snake.

“You… did too?” Patton answered in wonder. Since he had been turned into a frog, Patton had tried over and over to communicate with the other animals of the forest, but to no avail. None of the animals could understand or speak with him—except this one. “Are you like me?”

“Cursed? Yes. I’ve been trying for the past week to undo the spell myself, but my magic isn’t strong enough in this form.” The snake grimaced, curling his body around in a loop to rest himself on like a bench.

“Wow! You know magic?” Patton gasped in excitement, forgetting completely that the snake had tried to eat him only a minute before.

“I just said that didn’t I?”

Ignoring his rude tone, Patton began to hop around in excitement. He couldn’t believe it, not only did he meet another cursed one, but he met one who knew magic. If he was lucky, perhaps the snake would help him find a way to gain his father’s attention or even turn him into a human.

“That’s so cool! Can you do any cool tricks? My best friend is a sorcerer and he can fly. Can you do anything like that?” Patton asked, speaking fast and fumbling over his words, as he was too ecstatic to pause to properly breathe.

“Well normally I can shapeshift, but as I said before, this small body has weakened my magic. I can barely do anything now.” The snake hissed sourly, dropping his small head down on himself, obviously annoyed and wanting to drop the topic of conversation.

Realizing that he had upset him, Patton gingerly hopped over to him and reached out a hand to him but froze when he hissed at him and turned away. Sighing, Patton lowered his hand and laid down on his stomach next to him.

He knew the feeling, not being able to do anything like he used to. He still had trouble walking, or rather hopping, not to mention the fact that he struggled to catch anything to eat. It felt weird and wrong to be in another body. Their lives had been stolen from them, Patton had lost his father and best friend, and he couldn’t even imagine what the snake had lost. Life as a cursed one was not pleasant or kind, as the name suggested, it was a cursed existence to live.

But at least it didn’t have to be a lonely one now.

“Do you want to be friends?” Patton asked, looking over at the curled up snake.

His question went unanswered for a heartbeat until he was met with a gruff and snarky chuckle as the snake turned his head a little to peer at him.

“You aren’t too bright, are you?” The snake ridiculed him, “I just tried to eat you, and now you want to be friends with me?”

“Well, there’s no one else to be friends with, here,” Patton replied softly, looking down at his webbed toes.

The snake continued to watch him as though he were analyzing him to his core, trying to reach inside his mind and understand his thoughts. Perhaps, with the help of his magic, he was doing just that.

With a long and tired sigh, the snake replied and said, “Janus.” Patton raised his head and looked over at him in confusion, waiting for the snake to follow up and explain himself. Once the snake realized that he was waiting for an explanation, he groaned in exasperation and continued. “That’s my name, friends call each other by name, right?”

Smiling wide, Patton hopped up and landed on the snake, pulling him into a hug. “I’m Patton!”

Hissing at him, Janus tried to shake him off but was able to get him off. Eventually, he gave up and accepted his fate of being hugged by the overly affectionate frog.

“I already regret this.”

“Too late!”

...

Growing up the son of a wealthy Lord, Patton had never had to worry about things such as his daily meals and shelter, but both proved to be difficult to come by as a small frog in the forest; especially before he met Janus.

His first night in the forest was spent underneath a bramble bush as the rain around him threatened to flood his newfound home away. After that he found a little hollowed out log and stayed there for a few days until he was chased away by a badger. The next day Patton found a little hole under a tree and made it his new home.

His meals were also hard found and almost always came in a meager amount. He was surprised by how much he needed to eat despite his small body. However, once Janus came into the picture, finding food became just a little bit easier.

“You closed your eyes again.” A sardonic voice said, interrupting Patton in the middle of his attempt to catch a dragonfly. “Are you expecting the bug to fly its way into your mouth?”

Without being asked, Janus took it upon himself to teach Patton how to properly catch his own food, mostly by criticizing and correcting his every move. It never took the snake long to find his own meal, so he would often spend his time watching Patton try to fill his empty and sad belly while he was happy and full. And while Patton did appreciate the help, he did wish sometimes that his friend would be a little nicer about it.

“But it’s so pretty! And it’s just going about its day. I don’t want to hurt it.” Patton complains childishly, watching the dragonfly flutter away high above his head.

Sighing loudly, Janus slithered his way over to Patton and circled his way around him, draping his long body around him in an almost intimate embrace. With his head, Janus directed Patton’s gaze over the lake.

“Dragonflies eat the gnats that hover over the lake, fish eat the dragonflies that go for the gnats, and humans capture the fish that swim too close to the surface. It’s a perfect cycle that has existed for eons, natural order, and balance.” He murmured into his ear, his voice smooth and sweet, but precise and cold. Patton gulped and shivered uncontrollably. “The magic that you are so fond of is no different. When a being takes a life, another will take it back, that is the karma and balance that maintains order.”

“Even so, does life have to be taken? Can’t someone break the cycle so no more life needs to be lost?”

Janus went quiet, pondering that notion as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. There was a haunting pain in his eyes, old yet fresh, as though a past wound had been agitated by his innocently intended words.

“Hm, perhaps.” He murmured, winding himself around the frog. Patton relaxed once he was let go, yet his body subconsciously followed after the snake to maintain their embrace before he was able to catch himself and remain in place. “You’re an odd one, Patton.”

“Thank you?” The frog said in confused gratefulness, unsure whether he was just complimented or insulted.

Janus gave no further explanation either and only directed him to follow after.

“Come along, I caught enough for both of us to eat, just in case you came up empty-handed again.”

A wide grin spread across his face and he quickly hopped after the retreating serpent. His stomach growled loudly again, almost as if it knew it was about to be filled.

After that, food had become much easier to find, as Patton simply made a daily habit of going to Janus’s den and eating whatever he brought back. The fellow cursed one commonly voiced his complaints about his doing so, but he never failed to bring back enough for both of them.

…

There was something Patton had been wondering about for a while now. The thought came to him fleetingly as a secondary thought as he watched how Janus caught his food.

After his mornings became lonely from waiting alone for Janus to return from his hunts, Patton decided to join him. He promised to stay a ways away to not scare away the prey and he was able to peacefully observe the snake from a distance. It was then that Patton was able to see Janus use magic for the first time.

Sneaking up on whatever creature he was hunting, whether it be a mouse or shrew for him or cricket or grasshopper for Patton, he got just close enough before he would shoot out, yellow light and haze surrounding him, and his prey would be rendered motionless and free for the taking.

It seemed to be a simple spell as Janus was able to use it multiple times in a single day without tiring himself out. Patton recalled his best friend, Virgil, learning a similar spell when they were younger. After two casts he would become faint and would need to rest. Eventually, as years passed and he received training, Virgil learned to cast the freeze spell with ease. Even so, he still had his limit on how many spells he could cast in a single day. Yet Janus never showed any signs of fatigue.

Surely that meant that either the spell was simple and didn’t require a lot of energy, or that Janus was an extremely powerful and talented sorcerer. Which then begged the question as to why he still remained a snake.

“Hey, Janus?” Patton asked unprompted,

“Yes, Patton?” The snake replied, stopping in the middle of a long sip of water he had been taking from the lake.

“If you’re a wizard-

“Sorcerer.”

“Then how did you get turned into a snake? Did you mess up a spell or something?”

Janus paused and sat quietly for a moment, turning his eyes down at his reflection in the rippling water, gazing into it as though it were a Jin Mirror that would tell him all he wished to know. Patton looked down into the water as well but saw nothing besides a snake and a frog.

“I went to a sorcerer more proficient than I and asked to use his advanced spellbook. He agreed, but once he learned what spell I was tampering with, he turned me into a snake and threw me into the woods.” He explained, his voice full of bitterness and loathing. His eyes burned with something harsh and fierce, but it oddly seemed to bear a close resemblance to regret.

“But aren’t you a shapeshifter? Can’t you just shift back?” Patton asked.

“I wish I could, but spells and curses are different. If it had been a simple transformation spell I would have changed back weeks ago. But a curse is much more powerful and can only be undone by the one who caster.” He explained, hanging his head low in despair. “And I doubt that man will change me back anytime soon.”

Remorse was not a good look for the snake. Patton was so used to his usual sardonic smirks and sarcastic grins that it appeared wrong for him to look any other way. What was more, the pain in Janus’s eyes was too raw and made Patton’s heart ached for him.

“Well, that isn’t right!” He declared loudly.

Janus pulled his head up off the ground and looked at him in astonishment, gazing at him as if he couldn’t believe he had just heard what the frog said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It isn’t right!” Patton repeated, hopping over to his friend and reaching out to hold the snake’s head in his webbed hands. “Just because you wanted to learn a spell isn’t a good reason to be cursed! If I knew this sorcerer, I would march right up and command him to change you back!”

Janus stared at him with wide eyes, lifting his head up further slowly as if to try and confirm that he wasn’t dreaming and that he had actually heard Patton’s silly declaration correctly. After a moment passed between them, the wind and chirps of the forest the only audiable noise between them, Janus erupted in laughter, but Patton didn’t join in with him because it sounded almost sad.

“You're too kind, Patton.” Janus breathed, catching his breath between laughs. “Too kind for your own good.”

“What do you mean?” Patton asked, confused by his odd choice of words.

“Nothing, forget what I said.”

…

Life was, oddly enough, boring as an amphibian. Despite having a human mind and consciousness, he was still in fact a frog. Sleep had come to him more often, so by the time he woke up, half the day was already spent and gone. But, once he was awake, he had almost nothing to do.

Like a snake, Janus slept much more frequently than Patton, around sixteen hours in fact, although he’d never be able to tell since he can’t close his eyes. This meant that, despite their shared meals, the two of them had pretty much nothing to do except sleep. It wasn’t as though there were many options for leisure activities when you were cursed into a small body with tiny, webbed hands, or with no hands at all.

Usually, when he wasn’t with Janus, mostly because he was busy napping, Patton would go to the lake and swim. One small perk of being a frog was the fact that he could go under for hours on end and still be fine. He liked wandering down at the bottom of the lake, looking around and exploring the depths of six feet.

Patton learned very quickly not to venture in too deep, as one sour meeting with a bass taught him that one wrong move could end him up as a tasty snack in a predator’s belly.

Still, the thrill of swimming only lasted so long, and Patton would eventually become bored again. Without Janus, Patton had very little to do, and it became a lonely stretch of hours while he waited for Janus to wake up again.

In spite of his appearance, Patton could not communicate with any of the other kinds of frogs in the forest. It was possible that they themselves knew what Patton was, as all of them stayed clear away from him and never came near him. The fairy tale books were all a lie, he didn’t get any friendly forest animals to befriend.

Although he hadn’t asked, Patton had the hunch that it was the same for Janus, or else he probably wouldn’t have proper cause to remain with Patton. He knew he didn’t have much to offer the snake, he couldn’t help hunt, and he lacked any skill in magic to help him try to find a solution to the curse. Even so, Janus continued to spend his days idly with Patton, chatting and sharing meals, doing nothing of great importance.

Cursed ones were damned in more ways than one, the transformation into lesser creatures was one thing, but then they were sentenced to live life alone in isolation, understood neither by man nor beast. They had no one but each other in their large, forest world. Life as a cursed one was meant to be a life of torment, but at least with each other, it was more tolerable.

Patton sat in a hollow log, not too far away from the entrance to Janus’s den, nodding off as he waited for Janus to wake up. He was determined to stay awake until his friend resurfaced so they could spend the rest of the daylight together. However, the calm strings of the gentle, summer breeze, the chimes of a distant brook, and a choir of birds all sang a soothing lullaby that pulled at him sweetly, weakening his resolve.

Before he knew it, he was being roused awake by the yellow snake, looming over him with an amused glint in his eyes. Patton smiled up at him and sat up, stretching in a way that was most likely more proper for humans than frogs.

“Afternoon sleepyhead.” Janus teased, backing up as Patton sleepily made his way out of the log.

“I should be saying that to you.” Patton giggled, “Are you all rested up, beauty queen?”

“Trust me, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t spend more than half the day asleep. I can hardly get anything done in just eight hours.” The snake grimaced, slithering away from and around the log.

“I, for one, would love to sleep the day away.” Patton sighed, subconsciously following after him. “I barely got any sleep when I was human, what with all the tutors my father hired to teach me. I still remember the time my Math tutor refused to let me leave for over three hours until I got all the questions on my trigonometry worksheet correct. Mister Nelson was really strict like that all the time, but my Literature teacher was probably worse. She-”

He went on and on continuously, sprouting random stories from his years of education, which would then inspire more stories from his childhood and teen years. He chased after bunny trails, telling Janus about random things, unsure if the snake was actually listening.

Patton was so focused on talking that he failed to focus on where they were going, only making sure that he remained at the snake’s side so he could keep telling him more stories. It was only when Janus came to a sudden stop that Patton paused to look around at where they had been going the entire time.

In front of him expanded a wide and vast meadow, filled to the brim with tall grass, and a brook that ran through the center, heading back towards the lake. Patton gasped and gawked at the scenery, edging closer to the beautiful field.

“It’s gorgeous,” Patton said,

“Indeed it is.” Janus agreed, his voice soft and tender.

Patton turned around to say something but was caught off guard by the gentle expression Janus was directing at him. Patton could not physically blush, but his heart certainly skipped a beat.

“I want to show you something,” Janus said, slithering on ahead once more.

Patton remained where he was, watching his every move intently, almost fearful that if he looked away, Janus would disappear like a sweet dream, leaving him alone.

The snake slithered a few paced ahead to where a large rock rested on its side. Climbing up, he settled himself down on the highest point and stretched his body out as far as he could. He closed his eyes, stilled himself, and began to glow a beautiful gold, shimmering in the sunlight. Patton held his breath and time seemed to slow down around them.

Then, almost out of thin air, golden specters were lifted into the sky and took on the form of a snake and a frog. They took to the air and began to chase each other and play, frolicking through the clouds. They ran back down to the ground but continued to hover just above the earth. The specters turned into balls of pure light and circled around Patton in a spiral, sprinkling glitter upon him. Patton giggled and began to chase after the lights, trying to catch one of his hands.

The lights suddenly took to the sky once more and began to take on new forms, but this time they took the appearance of two men, one he recognized as himself, while the other he did not know. The man had a rigid and sharp face and was impeccably handsome. Patton looked over at Janus, still stretched out on the rock, and wondered if the man was him.

The two men joined hands and began to waltz, dancing elegantly across the heavens as though it were a ballroom. Their movements were smooth and graceful, hypnotizing Patton with their dance. Eventually, the two men began to float down together, returned to pure light, and faded away into glitter. Janus ceased his glow and relaxed, resting back and curling his body around.

“That was amazing!” Patton cheered, hopping over to him, “It was so pretty and cool! I can’t believe I just saw that! How’d you do it?”

“It’s a simple light animate spell. I usually prefer to animate shadows, but I thought you’d like the light puppets more.” Janus explained, slightly out of breath.

“I did, I loved them!” Patton grinned and pulled Janus into a hug. The snake stiffened and turned solid, but gradually began to loosen up. “Thank you, Janus.”

“You’re welcome, Patton. It’s the least I could do.”

Patton wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he didn’t. Janus would often say things that he didn’t understand, but every time he asked about it Janus wouldn’t answer.

…

It had been one full month since Patton had met Janus that day he had coincidentally almost been eaten by the said snake. In that time that they had spent together, they had grown close as friends. Their mornings would be spent over breakfast, chatting about random nonsense, and laughing over their mutual love of puns. After that, they would often spend their time around the lake, where Patton would splash around in the shallow end and Janus would sunbathe on the stones along the water’s edge. Once they began to feel famished, Janus would go out and hunt for their next meal and they’d share it again in Janus’s dugout den. As soon as their bellies were full once again they would part ways to go to sleep and start it all over the next day.

It was during one of Janus’s hunts when Patton didn’t join him, that he decided to wander around and explore in search of a new home while he waited for him. As much as he enjoyed his home underneath the tree, it was too small for him to do anything besides sleep, and the wide-open hope in the trunk made it easy for other forest life to find his way into his home. At this point, Patton was tired of chasing away squirrels trying to hide their nuts in his home.

Instead, Patton found a small crevice in the earth, no deeper than four feet. Tall and luscious grass was growing inside the hole, which would make for good bedding; and a large bramble bush grew at the top, overshadowing the hole and offering shelter from the sun, wind, and possible rain.

In blind excitement, Patton rushed down into the crevice to get a better look at what may be his new home. However, a patch this perfect surely had to already be occupied, but Patton was too enthusiastic to think that far ahead.

While pushing around the grass, looking for the best patch for a bed, Patton uncovered a pre-dug hole that had been hidden by the tall grass. Upon seeing it, Patton knew that something else had made that hole and it was not naturally occurring. Even so, Patton had noticed it too little too late, and before he could backtrack his way out of the crevice, a brown and black rat snake shot out of the entrance and aimed its fangs directly at him.

“Janus!” Patton screamed, launching himself into the air and away from the rat snake.

Quick as he could, Patton scurried back up the slope and out of the crevice. However, once glance backward told him that the rat snake was right on his heels chasing him. He tried desperately to shake the predator of his tail, hopping over and underneath rocks and fallen branches, but all his efforts proved futile as the rat snake remained practically glued to him.

“Help me! Janus!” Patton cried again, unsure if his friend could hear him or where he even was.

However, a voice called back in reply to his cry, filling him with relief.

“Patton!” Janus suddenly shot out from the side, tackling his body directly into the rat snake.

Finally free from the chase, Patton was able to escape up a high rock, and subsequently found a vantage point to watch the fight. Janus had plunged his fangs into the backside of the rat snake right underneath its head. The rat snake thrashed and struggled, attempting to wrap itself around Janus to strangle him, but it failed to do so properly, giving Janus leverage to do just that.

The fight lasted several minutes, neither reptile wanting to back down. They twisted and turned over and around each other until the rat snake finally went limp. Once the fight was done and won, Janus let go of his hold on the other snake and slithered over to Patton, who had hopped down from the rock.

“Are you okay?” Janus asked upon reaching the frog.

“Yes, I think I’m all right,” Patton replied and moved to greet him, but once he moved his right leg he winced at a pain he hadn’t realized was there, most likely hidden by the adrenaline rush while escaping.

Janus noticed and commanded him to remain still as he moved closer. Patton complied and remained where he was as the snake slithered up until their faces were resting against each other. At that time, Patton was incredibly grateful that it was physically impossible for frogs to blush, because Patton was sure that if he were still human that he’d be as red as wine from being in such close proximity to his friend.

A moment passed between them in expectant silence, Janus gazed intently into Patton’s eyes, and he looked right back into his, not knowing what else to do. Gradually, a warm, welcoming yellow light began to surround them both, encasing them in a small dome of energy. Slowly, as they remained together in that light, the pain in Patton’s leg began to fade away until it was eventually completely gone, and with it, the light went as well.

“Wow, you’re amazing!” Patton gasped in awe, hopping around in glee that the pain was gone.

Patton had seen a similar spell from his friend Virgil, in fact, he had watched as his friend struggled to learn the healing spell for several weeks until he was able to master it. It was unclear how long Janus had been studying magic, but if he was able to carry out such a spell in the state that he was, he had to be incredibly gifted.

“It’s nothing really,” Janus said sheepishly, turning his head away.

“No, it totally is! You have an incredible gift!” Patton hopped over into the snake’s line of vision and gave him a wide smile. “Thank you, Janus. You saved my life today.”

It had been minuscule, and Patton had almost failed to see it, but he saw the way Janus flinched at his words as if Patton had slapped him with his praise. Patton almost frowned at it, but Janus quickly turned away again and changed the subject.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you back to your home so you can rest.” He said, leading the way back towards the lake.

His smile fell away at his friend’s aloof behavior, but he gave a shy smile as he chased after and caught up to him, hopping at his side as they went across the forest ground. The ambiance of the singing birds overhead filled their silence and made their walk a little more comfortable, but Patton still couldn’t bear the silence between them, nor could he understand what made his friend act so coldly. After a second of thought, Patton decided to take it upon himself to fill the gap between them.

“This reminds me of when I fell off my horse when I was twelve.” Patton said, laughing lightly as he thought back in his memory, “My dad blew a gasket and confined me to my bed for a week so I could heal. But my friend Virgil, who was apprenticing under the family sorcerer, snuck in and healed me so we could go out and play.”

“Sounds like a strict father,” Janus mumbled, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the forest path.

“I guess. What about your parents?” Patton turned the subject onto the snake, hoping to keep the conversation going. “Did they do things like that too?”

Janus stopped slithering and froze, looking up to the tops of the trees and out beyond to the lake morning sky, which had begun to be overshadowed with gathering clouds. The eerie calm before the coming storm.

“Well… there was this one time I fell sick with a cold. My mother made me hot duck soup and fed me while I laid shivering in bed. My father sat at the fire for the whole night, keeping it lit so that I would be warm.”

“They sound amazing,” Patton said with a warm smile, wondering if his mother had done the same when he was sick.

“Yeah,” Janus continued on, “They were.”

Now it was Patton’s turn to freeze in place, as he realized he had unknowingly crossed a line and brought up bad memories for the snake. Quickly, he hopped back to the snake's side and tried to apologize for his mistake.

“Oh, Janus I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s alright.” Janus stopped him, letting him off with what would have been a sad smile if he didn’t have the face of a snake. “It was a long time ago.”

One by one, drop by drop, the sky began to cry out and rain fell from the heavens to the earth. The wind picked up and began to beat at the trees, shaking the branches into a wild dance. In the distance, rumbles from the sky began to roar across the land, followed by bright, angry flashes of light and fire.

The two cursed ones rushed their journey to take shelter away from the elements. Then forgoed returning to Patton’s home under the tree, as they risked a lighting strike by doing so. Instead, the snake and the frog went to Janus’s den underground.

Breakfast had not been caught that morning, as Janus had abandoned his hunt once he heard Patton’s panicked call. That meant that their empty stomachs were left to growl and complain at them for the foreseeable future, as it was too dangerous to attempt a hunt during the storm.

The den was dark and cold and damp. The only insulation the hole had was sticks and leaves. Janus, who was now a cold-blooded creature, tucked himself under the small patch of foliage and coiled around himself to keep warm. Once he was comfortable, the snake invited Patton to join him, as frogs were also cold-blooded.

A bit sheepishly, Patton crawled under the leaves and laid down beside the snake. The two rested there quietly, listening to the echo of the rage outside. Slowly, Patton began to tire and grow sleepy, yawning as he let his eyes close.

“Do you ever think about your father?” The snake beside him asked out of the blue, shaking Patton back into wakefulness.

Patton blinked at him in surprise, not expecting Janus to bring up their families again after the last conversation. Janus didn’t look back and kept his face turned away, but Patton still smiled at him.

“All the time.” He answered simply, “I know he didn’t mean to kick me out. He was just so scared that he didn’t recognize me. But eventually, I’ll be able to go back home.” He said confidently, sure to himself that his father was looking everywhere for him, and that Virgil would find a way to turn him back into a human.

Perhaps Janus could come with him, he was sure that his father would welcome such a powerful sorcerer, and Virgil always loved meeting others in his trade to exchange knowledge and skill with.

“It will be good riddance for me. Then I won’t have to keep hunting for two, freeloader.” Janus huffed, finally looking over at him, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Hey!” Patton cried and tackled the snake, landing on his back and wrapping his arms around his long body. Janus let out a squeak and tried to shake him off, cursing him, but laughing nonetheless.

Eventually, the two cursed ones settled down, giggling at each other and panting to catch their breath. Outside, the storm grew stronger, leaving the two stranded together in the den. Tired from the stressful day and their roughhousing, the two fell asleep together, Janus loosely wrapped around Patton like a comforting blanket.

…

Patton woke up sometime later, at what hour he couldn’t know, but the sheer darkness that surrounded him told him that it was late into the night. In that darkness, however, was a pale light casting shadows around him, pulsating instead flicker as a flame would. A tingling sensation covered his body and a warmth settled in his stomach and chest.

It didn’t take long for Patton to direct his gaze up and realize that it was Janus, still wrapped around him, who was giving off the light. The whole of his body glowed a soft yellow color and acted as a sort of lantern. His eyes were glossed over and he appeared to be intensely focused on something.

The frog decided then to remain quiet and simply watch as the snake did whatever he was doing. The intensity of the glow would grow and wane, almost to the point of going out, until it would grow again. Janus looked exhausted and seemed to be struggling greatly, almost as if he had been casting repeatedly without rest for hours on end.

Although Patton wasn’t a sorcerer himself, he did know much about the art from growing up with Virgil. He knew for a fact that casting multiple spells one after another without rest caused severe fatigue and strain on the body. Just as running ten miles with no rest could damage the body, so too could spell casting.

Patton knew it was taboo to interrupt a sorcerer while they were in the middle of casting, as losing focus could cause them to lose control of the spell and harm themselves or the interrupter. But he couldn’t bear to see Janus continue to suffer and endure such pain any longer.

“Janus?” Patton whispered, moving to sit up.

The snake flinched and gasped, breaking focus on the spell and stopped glowing as his eyes snapped down to look at the frog. A force pushed Patton back a bit, drawing a squeak out of him, but Janus’s tight grip around him kept him from falling over.

“Patton, you’re awake.” He noted in surprise, clearing his throat and relaxing his grasp on the frog.

“Couldn’t really sleep with the light flashing.” Patton chuckled sheepishly.

“Right…”

An awkward silence fell on them, heavy with unspoken tension about the spell casting. Patton knew it was rude to try and get Janus to reveal to him what he was doing, and sorcery was a sacred trade, but curiosity remained burning in his gullet to know why and what the snake had been casting. However, instead of intruding on his art any further, he decided to change the topic to his well-being, as Janus was still wheezing ever so slightly.

“Are you feeling alright?” Patton inquired.

“I’m fine.” He answered plainly, laying his head down on the ground.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Patton edged closer.

“I’m okay, Patton, don’t worry. Let’s just go back to sleep.”

The frog pouted but decided to let the topic go and follow Janus’s lead and go back to sleep, but not before he gave one more reassurance.

“Well, alright, but if you ever need it, I’ll be here to listen. Nothing could make me turn away from you, Janus.” Patton told him kindly.

Janus lifted his head sluggishly and peered over at him, his eyes dim and hesitant.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly.

“Of course! We’ll always be together!” Patton grinned.

Janus didn’t smile back but laid his head back down on the dirt floor. Not long after, the steady intake of breaths and light snores told him that Janus had fallen asleep, likely due to exhaustion.

Patton continued to watch him for a while more, his heart clenched and torn in concern for the other. He wished he had the innate ability to read others’ minds as some sorcerers had, or at the very least could know how the snake was feeling. It was obvious that whatever had caused Janus to act so miserably was somehow linked to whatever spell he had failed to cast.

He worried that Janus might try it again and end up hurt. Especially since it appeared as though Janus was trying to cast it on Patton. The last thing he wanted was for Janus to be hurting because of him.

…

The storm had not yet ended, but merely calmed down to a drizzle. The thunder and lightning had passed over their heads, but could still be heard in the far off distance. However, it was enough for the local wildlife to peek their heads out of their hiding places, drawn out by their hunger from the long night.

Patton was roused awake from the slow dripping water droplets that had seeped down through the earth to reach the den. Shaking his head dry, Patton yawned and stretched, pulling himself out of his little bed nest of leaves and sticks. Behind him, Janus remained asleep, snoring peacefully in a little curled up ball.

He smiled and then frowned; Janus still panted lightly in his sleep and looked sick and pale from overexertion. Patton remembered the look of desperation he had on last night as he struggled in his spell cast. The pain looked torturous and it concerned Patton greatly. He wondered what had caused him to push his body that far, and why he had been trying to spell cast on Patton.

A thought crossed his mind about the possibility that Janus had attempted to break their curse, but he ignored it, as Janus had told Patton himself that only the caster could take away the curse, and Patton didn’t even know who had cursed him.

It had happened all too suddenly for him to completely grasp the situation. He had been out on his daily stroll through the garden, he had heard that a strange man was visiting the manor and was on his way back to the house to greet him when a shadow appeared before him in the center of the walkway. A black puddle, rippling and swaying minisculely like tar, seeped up through the gravel. Patton was about to ignore it, thinking that maybe some ground oil had been pushed to the surface, but then a hand, seeping with the tar-like substance, reached out to him. Panicked, thinking someone was trapped underground, ignorant to the sinister forces at work, he reached out to save them and grabbed hold of the hand.

However, the second that he did, the shadow began to swirl around him and seep into his body through his eyes, mouth, and skin. He had tried to fight it off, but he was helpless to resist the dark magic. Everything went dark, and the next thing he knew, he woke up in the body of a little, green frog.

His father, in grief and anger, refused to believe that the frog was his son and demanded that he be executed. However, Virgil, in defense of Patton, convinced his father to merely banish him, and his father agreed. The guards then took Patton and threw him out over the wall, laughing as they watched him flail around and land harshly on the other side. Patton wandered around, trying to get back to his father to convince him he was indeed his son, but he was never able to make it past the guards. After a week passed, he went and settled in the forest by his home, waiting for the day when he’d finally be able to return.

This was the reason why Patton never learned the identity of who cursed him or their reason for doing so. It had happened all so fast, his cursing and his exile, he wasn’t even sure if his curser had been caught.

However, Janus knew who cursed him, he said so himself, it was another sorcerer who shared different beliefs than him about sorcery and cursed him for it. If he wanted, Janus could have used his magic to find the sorcerer and try to undo his own curse, but he remained with Patton anyways.

Janus had done so many things for Patton in the time that they’ve known each other. He’s fed him his daily meals, saved and healed him from a rat snake attack, and more so just offered his comforting company and ear to listen. Patton wanted to show his gratefulness to the snake for all that he’s done for him but knew he could never fully pay him back for all his kindness.

But he decided to at least start with something small and decided to be the one to provide breakfast that morning so Janus could sleep in just a while longer.

Leaving the den, Patton went around the rim of the lake and decided to catch some of the flies that usually hovered above the surface. Since Janus usually provided all the meals, Patton still wasn’t that good at catching his food and lacked coordination and timing. However, once he sat in position on a lilypad, floating on top of the water, Patton recalled back to the advice Janus had given him all those weeks ago.

He kept his eyes trained on the rain-rippled water, searching for any and all prey that may come into view, and once one did, he never took his eyes off of it. Some reservations still nagged at him, but Patton mostly ignored it, knowing that Janus would only get weaker if he did not eat. Once he was locked onto the dragonfly and had a clear shot, Patton shot out his tongue and caught the insect in his snare, yanking it back into his mouth, but making sure he didn’t swallow it.

Happy with his first catch, Paton hopped off of the lilypad and back onto the grass to return to the den to drop off the dragonfly so that he could go and catch more food. The snake usually preferred mice or shrews over crickets and flies, but Patton just had to make do with what he had.

As he returned back to the den, a strange and peculiar light began to shine above his head, creating a dim trail behind it. The light was much too large to have been created by any insect and had an odd purple hue to it. Before Patton could ponder it any further, loud footfall resounded behind him.

Taken off guard, Patton quickly lept into a bush and hid, peering out from behind the leaves to see who had created those footsteps and that light. Out from behind the foliage and trees, walked his best and oldest friend, Virgil. His face was hidden by his favorite black cloak, covered in odd, little purple patches, but Patton still recognized him nonetheless.

Overjoyed to see his childhood friend after so long apart, Patton chased after him as quickly as he could. He almost called out his name to catch his attention, but the words caught inside the back of his throat when he saw him stop directly in front of the den Janus was sleeping in. The purple light he had been following began to fall down slowly and seep into the ground, A light began to shine out of the den’s entrance, signifying that the light was now inside the little hole in the ground. Patton moved again and opened his mouth to say something, but was startled when Virgil suddenly punched his fist through the ground, his hand bursting with magical energy, and ripped a now awake Janus out from the ground.

Janus hissed, screamed, and failed around, but all his efforts were weak and fruitless. He was still too weak from last night, he couldn’t even use magic to defend himself.

Reaching into the back of his cloak, Virgil pulled out a long, twisted dagger and raised it to strike the snake. But before he could make any sort of move to hurt him, Patton screamed at him, dropping the dragonfly from his mouth, and threw himself at Virgil’s legs.

“Stop it, Virgil, don’t hurt him!” Patton cried and begged, grabbing Virgil’s pants and yanking him as hard as he could, although he knew it didn’t do anything.

Shocked by the sudden intrusion and the familiar voice, Virgil stepped back and looked down at the little frog that was clinging to the cuffs of his trousers. Instantly he recognized who Patton was and his eyes widened in welcomed surprise.

“Patton! You’re okay!” He said in joy and relief, but then a brief look of confusion passed across his features before he switched over to anger and accusation as he asked him, “Why would you defend this bastard?”

“Because he’s my friend!” Patton exclaimed, trying to climb his way up Virgil, clinging to his clothes, in order to get to where Janus was still thrashing around. “Please let him go, Virgil, Janus hasn’t done anything wrong!”

Reaching the top of Virgil’s arm, Patton quickly went to the fist that kept Janus captive and forced it open, causing both he and the snake to fall down. Reacting quickly, Virgil was able to catch Patton before he hit the ground, but he gladly let Janus crash into the dirt. Patton tried to hop away and go to the snake’s side, but Virgil cupped his hands around his small body and forced him to look at him.

“Hasn’t done- Patton, who do you think cursed you?” Virgil questioned him, his dark eyes drilling at him unforgivingly with an unbelievable truth.

Patton stared back at his oldest friend with wide, incredulous eyes. He hadn’t realized it, but he began to pant heavily as his heart rate spiked and his lungs failed him. His whole body had gone stiff, frozen in terror, and at a loss for what to do or how to react.

“You’re… you’re lying. Janus wouldn’t… he would never…he...” Patton said aimlessly, unsure whether he was trying to convince Virgil or himself of Janus’s innocence and benevolence. He looked down to Janus for a rebuttal, a shake of the head, a cry of dispute, anything to show that Virgil was wrong. But the snake said nothing, refusing to even look at him, and instead, he hung his head in shame.

After all, they had been through together, the countless hours spent in each other's company, the sweet and tender moments, the silly and nonsensical moments, he is now to believe that Janus had cursed him to live in misery. Janus, kind and caring, snide and cunning, protective and compassionate, had committed such a heinous act against him. Now he was to understand that the cursed snake, who he had been endeared to, who risked his life to save and heal him, was the sorcerer to make him the being that he was, taking him away from his family and friends and everything he had ever loved and known. But Janus was all that he loved and knew in the new life he had built as a cursed one. A false life created after his real one was ripped away.

Patton hopped down from Virgil’s hand and slowly hopped closer, but kept a sharp distance between them. Janus backed away as though the frog’s mere presence had burned him, widening the rift that had been created.

“You… cursed me?” Patton asked, still clinging to the last shred of hope inside of him that it wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry.” Was all that the snake said.

The world crashed around him in that instant and his heart shattered like glass hitting the floor. His breath was stolen away from his lungs like a relentless punch to the stomach. He choked on the sobs that began to spill out of his throat like vomit, the acid of betrayal stung his mouth. He couldn’t cry, however, no matter how much he wanted to, because of the creature he had been turned into. The creature that Janus had turned him into.

“So it’s true?” Patton croaked, “You did this to me?”

Janus looked up at him with sorrow and regret in his reptilian eyes, but Patton refused to see it, no longer able to trust anything the snake did.

“I didn’t mean to, well I did, but that was before I got to know you. At first, I was just trying to get revenge for my parents, but then-” Janus tried to explain himself, but Patton stopped him and cut him off, not wanting to hear his petty excuse for what he had done.

“But then what? How did me becoming this way solve anything?” Patton shouted in a shrill voice, his eyes locked uptight, his body overcome with tremors.

“It didn't solve anything, I know that now. I just wanted to get back at your father and wasn’t thinking about-”

“So even if you didn’t curse me you would have hurt my father to achieve your own selfish goal? No matter what you had done, I would have suffered and you didn’t even care.” Patton accused him, glaring him down with brokenness and unfettered rage, too consumed with grief to concern himself with his own words. “It’s because of people like you that there’s suffering in this world.” He scoffed bitterly.

Janus physically retracted from him, his mouth hung open and eyes wide in surprise and hurt. Patton realized a moment too late that he had gone too far, but he refused to apologize despite the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him. The snake hung his head and breathed slowly to steady his readily increasing pulse.

“Suffering in this world?” Janus repeated in a small, harsh voice, and raised his furious glare back up to meet Patton’s hesitant but firm gaze. “Don’t you dare speak of the world to me, young lord. You’ve lived in a mansion your entire life, having your every need met with the ring of a bell, you’ve always had a full stomach, a warm bed, and a safe home. You don’t know anything about suffering, Patton. You have no idea what I’ve been through.” He yelled,

Patton stared back at him in shock, and regret. After the weeks they had spent together, Patton had believed that he knew Janus very well. Despite not knowing that much about his past, besides him being a sorcerer and without parents, he had thought he was able to understand him. Yet, that notion had been torn away from him that day because he couldn’t understand him at all. He couldn’t see what had brought him to do such harm on those he barely knew, nor did he believe there was a reason that could justify his actions.

“You’re right, I really don’t know anything about you, do I?” Patton said sadly, his voice quiet and defeated. The anger on Janus’s face immediately fell away and turned to worry and fear. Patton gave him one last smile, forced, and miserable, and then turned away to leave, “Come on Virgil, let’s go home.”

Virgil, who had been silently watching the argument from the sidelines, stepped in and bent down, offering a hand put for Patton to hop on so he could carry him. Patton stepped into his palm and was led away, leaving Janus alone on the cold ground. The light drizzle that had been falling since morning grew heavier and began to pour down more harshly, washing away the earth as the floodwaters began to rise once more.

“No, Patton, wait!” Janus called out in desperation, “Take me with you! Only the caster can take away the curse. Let me fix this!”

The small yellow snake tried to chase after them, but Virgil whipped around and hit him with a paralysis spell, stunning Janus and leaving him flopped over on the ground frozen. Patton flinched when he saw Janus get hit and fought the urge to go to his side. Instead, he simply looked away.

“Stay away from Patton! If you even try to go near him again then I will personally end your life.” Virgil threatened him with a deathly serious glower before turning and striding away.

The cursed frog let himself be taken away from his once dear friend in the palms of his oldest, and most trusted friend. He whimpered silently as Janus’s screams resounded through the trees, echoing and crescendoing on the howl of the wind. The tears that he could not physically shed himself, fell from his eyes as the rain ran down his face, allowing him to weep in sorrow as the pain of losing Janus consumed him as his reality.

“Patton! Please, forgive me!” The wind wailed, “Patton! Don’t leave me, please!”

…

The anger of the heavens had died away since last night and had since turned into grieving as the sky wept over the earth and its creatures, flooding the land with tears to wash away the heaviness that had settled in the atmosphere. The earth could not stand the mourning of its beloved friend and reflected those cries with a lament of its own as the earth shook and creaked, land sliding and trees falling, weighed down too much from the shared anguish.

Virgil rode through the rain and the wind on a skittish horse, none too happy about being forced to travel in the terrible weather. Patton sat on his shoulder, taking shelter underneath the brim of his hood. He lied down wordlessly, his eyes low and empty, barely registering the journey away from the forest and back to his father’s estate. His body was cold and soaked, but he didn’t mind too much and welcomed the feeling of icy skin, shivering.

The sorcerer made a few attempts at light conversation, but Patton only responded with simple noises or grunts, if he answered at all. Eventually, Virgil got the message that he didn’t want to talk and let him be. Although, Patton could feel his anticipation and curiosity eat away at him; and he could understand why. After all, he had at last escaped from the one who cursed him and was to return back to his father and old life, he should be ecstatic and celebrating. That’s how any normal person would be reacting anyway.

After a strenuous period of travel, both physically and emotionally, the two childhood friends arrived at the familiar iron gates. Virgil muttered to Patton to hide further in his hood, and he complied quickly, frightened for what would happen to him if his father’s guards spotted him. Like the last time he saw them in his current form they had tried to kill him and then catapulted him over the wall.

Virgil strode up to the gate and called to be let in. The two men who had been charged with guarding the entrance that afternoon, got up from their bums on the ground, stumbling drunkenly to Virgil to inspect him.

“Sir Virgil? ‘Ere ‘ave you bin all mornin’?” One of the men asked, lazily scratching his ass with one hand and rubbing his bright red nose with the other, a bottle of brandy tight in his grip and spilling out the top.

“I was searching for the young lord, as per usual.” Virgil responded his head up high and face scrunched up in distaste for the foolish man.

“When’re ya’ goin’ a give up on that?” The second guard asked, equally if not drunker than the first. “We all know he’s dead.”

“Don’t be witless, the boy is not dead but alive. Sober yourselves up and go to the lord of his house and tell him that he will see his son by sunrise tomorrow.”

The two guards, now frightened by what Virgil had said, quickly moved to open the gates, allowing Virgil to enter, before going ahead to the manor to give the message they had been sent with. Patton, who had been listening to the conversation the entire time, peered out from the hood and up at Virgil and asked,

“What do you mean by ‘sunrise tomorrow’? I doubt my father will welcome me back the way I am.”

“Be patient, I have a plan for that.” Virgil replied as he guided his horse to the stables. Once there he dismounted and handed the reins to the stableboy to unsaddle and care for the animal.

Turning to the house, Virgil went and entered through the servants doors on the far side of the building. The inside was not that much different temperature-wise compared to the outside, and was even darker than it had been out in the rain. Patton looked out at the surroundings over Virgil’s shoulder and instantly recognized it as his old home. The walls and floors were all the same, all the candlesticks sat in their usual places, however they were not lit. Even the curtains, which were normally drawn to let in the sunlight, were pulled shut, allowing the halls to be consumed in darkness. Indeed this was Patton’s home, but it felt more despondent than usual.

Maneuvering his way through the meandering hallways, Virgil arrived at and entered his study, locking the door behind him so that no one could bother him. Stepping to his desk, he lit a single candle with a vocal spell and sat down at his bench and began gathering different ingredients from the many shelves above and beside him. Patton took this opportunity to hop down from his shoulder and onto his desk, choosing to watch his friend work from his seat on an old book. The study was dark and dusty, filled with many odd smells from old spells. The room was in chaos and disarray, books and pamphlets littering every surface. Patton found this peculiar, as he had always known Virgil to be neat and tidy, but he chose not to ask about it at that time.

“So,” Patton began, “You said you had a plan?”

“Oh, yes, I do.” Virgil agreed, getting up in a hurry across the room to rummage around in his aged, wooden chest. He pulled out a filthy looking velvet bag and looked inside, gave it a whiff, and grinned, rushing back to his bench and setting it to the side. “Since you were banished, I’ve been scouring the library for spells powerful enough to undo the curse. After more than a month of searching, I found one that lets you take on a human appearance in the sunlight. So as long as we hide you at night and keep you away from darkly lit places, we should be fine.”

Patton didn’t voice the wave of disappointment that passed over him when he realized that he wasn’t going back to normal forever. He should have suspected as much though, after all, Janus said only the caster can remove a curse.

Patton shook his head and shooed away any and all thought of the snake.

The bottom line was that he would be human and with his father and best friend again, and that was enough for him to be happy at least for now.

After nearly an hour of preparation had passed with Virgil scurrying around the room, grabbing various ingredients, measuring them into different containers and mixing them in his caldron, Virgil clapped his hands and spoke a vocal spell, igniting the furnace at the far side of the room. The flame had a curious purple tint to it, which symbolized the caster, as most sorcerers preferred to differentiate their magic with a specific color, and Virgil’s was a deep violet. Speaking another spell, Virgil telepathically lifted the small cauldron and set it on top of the flame. It burned and boiled there for about ten minutes until Virgil spoke the same spell and carried the cauldron out of the fiery furnace. He cast another spell to cancel out the fire as well for good measure.

Patton, still sitting atop a stack of books, watched as Virgil took a small cup and dipped it in the caldron to measure out a small portion of whatever concoction he had cooked. Virgil, analyzing the potion, grinned to himself and reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out a small vial filled with a few drops of a red liquid that looked strangely enough like blood.

“What’s that?” Patton asked,

“Janus’s blood,” Virgil answered plainly, removing the cork from the lid and pouring it carefully into the cup. “a key component to the spell. It’s a good thing that I only cursed him instead of killing him.”

“You were the one who cursed Janus?” Patton questioned, taken aback.

“Of course, there was no way either your father or I would let him get away with what he did without punishment. After you were cast out, I led a hunt for Janus and found him in the city near the orphanage where we lived as children.” He explained, his face turning sour at the mention of the orphanage.

“You knew him?” Patton said, shocked. He never would have guessed that the two had known each other by the way they interacted back in the forest.

Virgil paused in the middle of stirring the cup, setting it down softly and keeping his eyes trained on his own distorted reflection in the liquid. A peculiar air settled around him, Patton wasn’t sure if it was more akin to hatred or fondness.

“It was a long time ago, before the Sage, Thomas, took me in here. Thomas was going to take Janus in too when he saw that he too had the potential to learn magic, but…”

“But what?” Patton pressed further, literally on the edge of his seat as he leaned in to hear more.

“Janus was too angry and wild after his parents’ death, which left him orphaned. Thomas feared that if he was trained that he would use his power for evil.” Virgil scoffed bitterly at that, “Turns out he was right. He may lack proper training, but Janus’s magic is raw and powerful. I was only barely able to win when we fought.”

The frog, and soon to be human, frowned and sat back on his haunches. He knew that Janus had lost his parents, but he hadn’t realized that he had been so young when it happened. Patton had lost his mother when he was young too, but he had been so young that he had almost no memories of her. However, for Janus, he was old enough that he not only could remember them, but young enough to where they were his entire world.

Sympathy filled Patton for Janus and his experience and he longed to offer him his condolences and comfort. And then he remembered what Janus had done to him, and how he had planned to take away his father, and that feeling of sympathy dwindled down, but didn’t leave entirely.

“Alright, it’s ready, drink.” Virgil directed him, setting the cup down on the table.

Patton looked at the cup, which had become a dark mahogany and was lightly steaming, and hopped down from the stack of books and made his way to the cup and peaked his head over the edge. It smelt both sweet and sour at the same time, which made him flinch away and gag slightly.

Virgil chuckled lightly and helped Patton up with one hand so that he could reach the cup’s contents. Heaving a deep breath, Patton went back and put his lips to the liquid. Part of him hesitated when he realized he’d be drinking Janus’s blood, but he pushed through and took a large gulp.

Again, he ripped himself away and gagged, but this time from the horrible taste. Just then, a numbing sensation took over his body and he flopped over on Virgil’s palm. The sorcerer took him to the center of the room and rested him on the floor and took a step back.

A stinging pain erupted in his veins and boiled throughout his body, the entirety of his flesh broke out in a near unbearable itch, and his bones began to ache and groan in discomfort. A scream tore its way from his throat as he shook and shuddered on the wooden floor. Not even a minute passed before the pain became unbearable and he blacked out.

When he came to, he was lying down in a mock bed on a floor mat with a thin seat cushion under his head. He opened his eyes slowly and took in his surroundings, noticing that he was still in the study. The light of the rising sun shone directly on him from the window, and bathed him in a warm orange glow.

Instantly, Patton could feel the difference in his skin and body. He didn’t feel cold anymore, his back was stretched and straight, and his arms and legs under the blanket felt longer, thicker, and distinctly human. Patton sat up from the bed and reached up to touch his face, and he let out a sob when the soft touch of his cheeks, nose, and forehead was all there.

Virgil, who sat at his side, offered him a kind “welcome back,” as he handed him a mirror. Patton took it from his hands with a “thank you,” and glanced at his reflection, and indeed his old face is what greeted him. Patton sobbed again in joy, relieved and overjoyed that he had at last become human once again.

“I’m human again… I’m…” Then a terrifying realization hit him. “I can’t cry.”

Patton looked at his reflection and realized that no tears had fallen despite his cries, in fact his eyes hadn’t even glossed over. They remained dry and cool, showing no emotional reaction. Patton lifted his hand slowly to his face again and felt around his eyes, but felt a discernible change in them, they weren’t swollen or puffy and held no wetness.

“I can’t cry,” Patton repeated, his voice quiet and empty.

He wasn’t human, after all he had gone through, what he did and who he left behind, he still wasn’t free from the curse. He almost wanted to laugh at the cruel irony.

“I’m sorry Patton, the curse was too powerful, even for me. I could only give you a human appearance.” Virgil apologized, pulling him into a loose hug.

“No, it’s okay.” Patton said, shaking Virgil off and standing up, “Let’s go see my father.”

Virgil followed at his side as Patton walked down the familiar halls and up the stairs to his father’s personal study, where he often spent most of his time. For much of his childhood, his father would work away the day in his study, leaving him to eat alone at the table and play by himself. This meant that if he wanted to be reunited with his father as soon as possible, he would most likely find him in his office.

Once he reached the door, he gave a tentative knock on the door, knowing that his father had a distaste for being interrupted.

“Leave me! I don’t wish to see anyone right now.” His father’s gruff voice called through the other side of the door.

“Father? It’s me, Patton.” He called back shyly,

A crash and the sound of shattering glass could be heard from inside the room but the door was ripped open swiftly before Patton could worry for his father. A short, wrinkled old man stood before him still wrapped in his nightgown and robes. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot from lack of sleep and his face was grimy and unshaven. Patton briefly wondered who the man before him was, as he had always known his father to be prim and proper, until it dawned on him that in his absence, his father had become a hollow of his former self, shriveled and faded by grief.

However, despite his dismal appearance, in that instant, his father lit up like a bright Christmas candle as he teared up and cried in disbelief and joy. He reached out warily and gently laid his hands on his face, as though Patton would turn to dust before his very eyes and disappear from his life again. However, once he was sure that it was his son standing before him and not an apparition, he pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Patton, my son, you’re finally back!” He wept gladly,

“I’m home,” Patton said weakly, feeling the wetness of his father’s tears soak into his shirt, but nothing from himself.

“Why did you leave me?” His father asked, more to himself than as a legitimate question towards his son.

Because you cast me out. Patton thought but did not say.

...

A week had passed since he had come back to his father’s house, and since then he had not been allowed off the premises. Most days he was confined to his room, with the occasional excursions to the dining room or bathroom, but he was always accompanied by at least two guards from the moment he stepped out of his room.

The first day his father had thrown a banquet in celebration for his arrival back at the estate and had sent out speedy word to all of his close business partners and people of note from the town to join in the festivities. However, the party had been stiff and awkward, as Patton didn’t know any of the guests well and most of them only spoke to him in congratulations for his return and their interest in their future as partners once Patton took over his family’s wealth and tenant farms.

Since then he saw his father every day at all of his meals, but only then. His father would always speak about the prospect of spending a day together in town, but whenever Patton would ask about it, his father would always say he would have to postpone it for later, as he was far too busy with work. When they finally did go to town, it had been a short, awkward outing, surrounded by four guardsmen, neither of them knowing what to talk about. They went out to lunch and bought Patton a brand new, tailored suit and spoke about his father’s business as the old man showed him around his town office where his employees managed his tenant's harvest quotas and debtors interest and balances.

Patton only half-listened to the lectures as they walked through the little port town’s streets. Instead, he looked around at the buildings and people, searching for something, but he wasn’t sure what until he spotted it. At the end of once long street was a little half-decayed brick building--the town’s orphanage. Three young boys played jacks together in front of the steps to the building, and, despite his current feelings, Patton couldn’t help but imagine what Janus would have looked like as a young boy playing outside the orphanage, possibly with Virgil.

Once the sun sunk past noon, his father decided it was time to head back to the manor and the two of them loaded into the carriage, while the four guards and the coachman sat on the front and back seats. During the ride, his father continued to talk about his company and his future plans to start Patton as an intern next spring so that he can gain experience before he took over, as his father was planning to retire within the next few years as his old age began to weigh down on him. Again, Patton mostly tuned him out and simply watched the scenery pass by as they left the city and began to enter the countryside.

After a while, they entered the forest that surrounded their house, and Patton immediately perked up. He couldn’t help but scan the trees and bushes for Janus, hoping to at least catch a glance of the snake. He hated to admit it, but ever since he left, Patton often found himself wondering about him and whether he was okay. He had left him while he was weak and tired, and he feared he may have gotten sick in the storm. But then the remainder of what Janus had done to him would always come to his mind soon enough and he would cut his worries short.

It didn’t take long for Patton to realize that it wasn’t only his inability to cry that had presented itself. Patton still slept at odd hours and could hold his breath underwater for over an hour, which he had tried while he was bathing, and his palette still held the desire for insects, which meant he often had to force his food down unwillingly. Thankfully, those traits were easy to disguise as a human in the few hours he interacted with his father and the staff and no one was none the wiser to his true condition. Except of course Virgil, who had been the one to continuously help Patton navigate the changes to his body.

Every night after the sun had set, Virgil would come to his chambers with different potions and spells, researching and testing ways to undo the lasting effects of the curse--and also to feed Patton insects so he wouldn’t starve from going a day of stomaching very little food. If it had been anyone else, the staff probably would have become suspicious of the constant nightly visits in his personal chambers. However, since it was Virgil, who had been raised alongside Patton and treated like a brother to him, no one batted an eye.

A week had gone by with no progress, but Virgil still came by that night after his outing with a brand new potion for him to try. Unsurprisingly, it bore no fruit when Patton drank it and there had been no physical change to his body. Virgil frowned and groaned when yet another attempt failed to work and opened up his spellbook on transfiguration to look for another solution.

Patton sat in the middle of his bed, munching on a few of the crickets Virgil had caught in the garden. He watched Virgil hover a foot off of the ground as he flipped through his book, which was suspended in the air by a purple glow. It was a little odd to see Virgil use his magic so easily and without much thought. Despite growing up with him and being more than well aware of his affinity for the magical arts, Patton couldn’t help but compare it to Janus’s style of magic, which had always appeared more strenuous and focused. Perhaps it was because of his cursed form hindering his powers, or maybe it was the fact that he was self-taught, but Janus always had to take his time and use all his strength to spell cast. While Virgil on the other hand, cast spell after spell as easily as he breathed air through his lungs.

Then again, the more Patton thought about it the more he realized that Janus had rarely spell cast at all in the time he was with him. He often preferred to use his own physical strength over his magic. The only times Patton ever saw Janus use magic was when he was using it for him, such as well he put on that light show or when he healed him after he was attacked by a rat snake. He never used his magic for himself, he was never selfish or cruel with his power, only thoughtful.

An ineffable emotion settled in Patton at the thought of Janus acting selfless, because that image had been tainted by his selfishness. Even so, Patton couldn’t help the fondness in his heart as he reminisced on the memories he shared with the cursed snake. But the bitterness still lingered in the back of his mind like a dark shadow.

His heart and mind were in conflict with each other and confused about what image he should remember Janus by. As the caring friend who shared in his suffering in their cursed world. Or as the liar and manipulator who had cursed him with ill intent towards his father. Patton couldn’t settle on one and be left to wonder how Janus had become the way he was; what had brought such a kind-hearted man to be filled with such hate.

He remembered that Virgil had mentioned that Janus was angry and unhinged as a child after he was sent to the orphanage, which meant that whatever had caused him to become the way he was had to do with the reason why he was sent there in the first place: his parents. The only time Janus had ever mentioned his parents it had been with sorrow and longing, accompanied by the mention of their deaths. Now, Patton was no detective, but it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots between Janus’s wrath and the loss of his parents. However, while that explanation certainly filled in pieces of the picture, much of the canvas was still left unpainted.

“Hey, Virgil?” Patton asked suddenly,

“Yeah, Pat?” Virgil responded without looking away from his spellbook.

“You said you knew Janus when you were in the orphanage. Do you know why he was there?” He asked hesitantly, unsure if Virgil would even answer him. It was more than a little obvious that Virgil had a distaste for the snake, but he was the only one Patton could talk to and possibly answer his questions.

Virgil, startled by the question, immediately snapped him away from the book and over at Patton, his face riddled with shock, dubiety, and bewilderment. The book ceased its magical glow and fell to the floor in a defiant crash as Virgil lost his concentration, ending his own hovering as well and standing to his feet. After a taut, wordless moment passed between them, Virgil sighed and walked over to sit at the edge of the bed. Once he was seated, Patton inched cautiously to rest at his side.

The sorcerer’s face was tight and twisted in discomfort, as though the answer to Patton’s question was not a pleasant topic to speak of and weighed heavily on him. Patton waited patiently next to him until Virgil was okay to reply if he wanted to at all.

“I don’t know the details, but I overheard our house mother speaking with the baker while he was making his delivery the week he arrived. According to her, his parents had been jailed and executed.”

“What, executed?” Patton gasped, taken off guard, “Do you know what for?”

Virgil shook his head slowly.

“No, Janus never said anything about it either. Although, he did once say that he lived on a debtor’s farm.”

Patton looked up at Virgil in fear and disbelief, and then looked off at nothing as he took in what he had just been told. To lose his parents at such a young age is one thing, but for them to have been executed was something else entirely. Of course, the death of his parents, no matter the cause, would surely be a source of resentment and anguish; but their execution gave Janus a direction to point all of those negative feelings. That revelation made Patton fear whatever reason had brought Janus to point them at his father.

Virgil, noticing Patton’s troubled expression, turned the conversation back towards him, steering away from Janus’s parents’ cause of death.

“Why do you care? He’s the one who cursed you, remember?” Virgil told him,

“I know.” Patton mumbled, turning his head down at the bed, “I just want to know why he did.”

...

Since Patton was no longer allowed to leave the residence without his father’s permission, and Virgil often spent most of his time in search of a cure for his condition, Patton was left with little to do to entertain himself. In order to alleviate his boredom, he would take light strolls through the manor’s gardens daily and tend to the flowers. Of course, the family already had a hired gardener, but the old man never minded the little extra help. His assigned guards would sit under a nearby tree and monitor him, but otherwise never spoke to or bothered him. The old man, on the other hand, Patton soon learned loved to tell stories from his youth. Patton enjoyed the company and would ask him questions to keep him talking.

Yet, there was only so much work that could be done in a day, and Patton would always be left with nothing to busy his hands and mind with to keep his thoughts at bay. After some odd hours passed, the old man would call it a day and head back inside to rest, leaving Patton alone without direction for what to do next.

His family’s property was quite expansive, so not only was there a beautiful garden, but also a shallow pond. Patton would regularly use the pond to swim in as a small child, but he had long since grown too large for the water, so he would simply rest at its edge, dipping his feet in and kicking the water around. By himself, not including the guards' several paces away, he would hum and sing to himself an old tune his mother would sing to him. He didn’t remember her too well, and in fact, this song was the only memory he had left of his mother.

“Upon a hill, under the sky, sat a bakers mill, alone without a wife. Lonely little man, on his own without his true, a flower in his hand, and his knees in the morning dew.”

Patton’s voice shook and cracked as he held the last note, his throat clenched and closed in the middle of a breath, causing him to lightly choke. He inhaled and exhaled deep breaths to steady and calm himself, but his emotions raged and stirred inside him like a typhoon, scratching at him to be let out.

In an outburst, Patton ripped at the grass beside him and threw it with a scream. Next, he tore the glasses from his face and reached his hands into the pond and splashed the water over his eyes, allowing the tears that could not fall to fall.

It had been ten days since he had learned that Janus had been lying to him, ten days since he had left Janus alone in the forest, and ten days that he’d been longing to see him again. Patton was still so angry and hurt that Janus had cursed him, but more so that he had acted as though wasn’t the one who did it and played innocent. He was resentful that he had to, and still has to, live a cursed life as a frog because of something he had no part in, and that if it hadn’t been him, it would have been his father, who he loved.

And yet, at the same time, Patton felt empathetic towards Janus’s plight. Although he couldn’t comprehend it entirely, he did understand the grief of the loss of a parent to some degree. Patton would give almost anything to have his mother back, and if the disease that took her was a person, he surely would hold hatred towards them.

Besides that, Patton purely just missed the snake. He longed to hear his sarcastic comments and sardonic humor once again. He wanted to be able to rattle on and on and be comforted by his inviting presence. He loved the way Janus would always respond to his puns with an even cornier pun and missed the way they would constantly try to outdo the other, only to be left a giggling mess by the end of it.

He was stuck, unsure of what he should do and how he should feel. He tried to ignore his emotions in hopes that he could simply forget him, but Janus was like a stick of gum trapped in his hair and refused to leave his mind no matter what he did. Worst of all, the part of him he remembered the most, was the way he had been begging when he left. It was clear he was repentant and wanted to right his wrong and help Patton become human again, but he had been too consumed by his anger to listen.

Patton still held the belief that no act of revenge was ever completely justified. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. Even so, he had never even bothered to try and learn Janus’s side of the story and made a judgment based on his own personal experience. That’s why he knew what he had to do, he had to learn the truth of what happened between Janus’s parents and his father, from both sides.

Paying no attention to his guards, Patton placed his shoes back on his feet and stood from the grass and marched back to the house, entering from the back door next to the stables. The halls were dark and dimly lit by odd patches of sunlight from the barely parted curtains. Patton strode through in a flurry, yanking the drapery open as he went and flooding the area with light. The servants and maids watched him go by scrupulously as they worked, muttering amongst themselves in hushed whispers.

He rushed to his father’s office, practically sprinting his way up the stairs, and pounded his fist against the wood once he reached the door. He was sure that he looked like he had gone mad to the staff, but at that moment he was too single-minded to care.

“Who is it?” His father called gruffly from inside, sounding a bit annoyed and offended by the abrupt, loud knocking.

“It’s your son,” Patton responded, pushing his way in through the door, not bothering to wait for his father’s approval to be allowed in. “I need to speak with you.”

“I’m preoccupied at the moment, son. Perhaps later?” His father said without looking up from the letter he was busy writing.

“It can’t wait.” Patton said firmly, standing his ground and refusing to budge or leave.

His father paused in his scribing and looked up at Patton with a raised eyebrow. Patton had always been quiet and submissive, never asserting himself to or refusing his father in anything he did. This time was different though, he stood up taller and more confident, putting his foot down in this matter. His father looked at him, almost impressed and welcoming to his new manner.

“Very well,” He conceded, setting his quill down, “What troubles you?”

Patton faltered slightly at that, unsure what to say now that he finally reached the moment of truth, but he steeled himself, took a breath, and pushed forward, ready to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.

“Father, did you ever know a man named Janus?” Patton asked bluntly,

“Humph, he’s the wicked sorcerer who cursed you isn’t he?” His father harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaned back in his armchair.

“Well, yes, he is, but do you happen to know him personally, or his parents?” He pushed further, walking closer to his father’s grand, dark oak desk.

His father scowled at that and turned his head over to the side, scrunching his eyebrows in what seemed akin to remorse, or perhaps detestation. Whatever the emotion the mention of Janus’s parents brought up in him, it was clear that they were not a pleasant memory for him.

“I never knew the boy myself, but his parents were debtors of mine that owed me more than their weight in gold combined. They were minor nobility, barely even scraping the bottom of the barrel, and in financial ruin. Frederick came to me for a loan, but never paid a cent back and eventually lost all I gave him. They worked one of my plots for a few years, but they were unskilled laborers and struggled to bring in any grain to pay back what they owed. After a while, they had tried to make a run for it, and I had them thrown in a debtors prison and they were eventually executed. I took pity on the boy, however, and had him sent to the orphanage; a mistake I now regret.” His father explained, his voice and expression shadowed with tainted memories of the past.

Patton’s body tensed up and his jaw clenched as his breath caught in his throat and he had to force it down. Deep inside, he had already known the truth but could not bear to accept until now. After all, Patton loved his father and didn’t want that image of him to be blighted.

“You… killed his parents?” Patton murmured,

“Not me, son, the authorities did. I simply turned them over once they were caught.” He corrected,

“But, you could have shown mercy, couldn’t you? You could have lowered their interest rate or forgave them of their debt!” Patton tried to argue, trying to find a solution or a loophole for a consequence that had already taken place and could not be altered.

“If I forgave every debtor of their account then I would drive myself into financial ruin. It was their actions that brought them to poverty, and their decision to run that led to their demise.” His father expounded in his own defense. Yet, he didn’t try to justify what had happened, only explain the extent of his role. “I admit that I could have gone about it in another way, but what’s done is done. I cannot bring those two back from the dead.” His father sighed and leaned his elbows on his desk, resting his face in his palms, suddenly looking much older and tired. “Learn from my mistakes, son, so that when you become the landlord you will be wise as to where to lend a hand and were to draw a line.”

Patton wanted to retort and argue, but at that point it would only be for the argument's sake and would not serve to bear good fruit. His father was right, what happened in the past could not be changed, choices were made and lives were unfortunately lost, and a boy was left orphaned and alone. No amount of apologies or plans for revenge would ever undo what had been done.

Janus had once told him that balance rested in karma, a life for a life, but Patton didn’t believe in such a thing. If nature dictates that the child shall pay for the sins of the father, then he will reshape the natural order and refuse to take revenge so that the next generation can be spared. He could never speak for Janus, nor could he ever understand what it felt like to lose his only family in such a horrendous way, but the cycle of hate had to be broken, and he will end it with him by choosing to forgive and go back to Janus.

Despite his previous reservations, Patton could deny himself no longer, he had to see Janus. He needed to apologize to him, for everything he had done and what his father did.

So, that evening, as the sun began to kiss the horizon, Patton retreated to his chambers and began to pack his bad in secret. He hoped to sneak out before the light of the sun disappeared and left him to return to his amphibian state. Slipping past the guards wasn’t going to be easy, but he used to do it all the time when he was little. Of course, he had the help of Virgil and his magic, but he was sure he could pull it off on his own.

“Going somewhere?” Virgil asked behind him.

Patton jolted up and spun around, hand on his chest as his heart threatened to burst from his chest. Virgil, who had been hovering upside-down behind him, laughed and spun around in the air to face right-side-up and settled himself back on the ground.

“What’s all this about?” He inquired, gesturing to the half-packed sack on Patton’s bed.

If not for the side effects of the curse and spell, Patton would have been bright red, but instead he simply smiled sheepishly and turned back to his back around to grab an extra change of clothes and place it in his bag.

“I’m going back to the forest to see Janus.” He stated.

“Why would you do that? Did you forget what he did to you already?” Virgil questioned him, losing the previous light-hearted and mischievous disposition.

“My father is responsible for the death of Janus’s parents.” Patton told him, walking over to his bedside table and reaching into his drawer to pull out a small sack of gold coins. “That’s why he cursed me, to take away the only family my father had, just as he had done to him.”

“And? You're gonna forgive what he did just like that? What your dad did was shit, but that doesn’t change the fact that what Janus did was fucked up too.”

“I know that, and I’m still mad at him!” Patton retorted, raising his voice, “But, now I understand his reasons. It still doesn’t justify it, but it does explain it.” He said, his eyes then softened and his voice went quiet again, “He was just suffering.”

Malicious acts of revenge brought on by suffering only breeds more suffering. The only cure to pain is to move forward and live life well. When his time came to take up his father’s mantle he will be responsible for hired workers and debtors, and it will be his responsibility to be gracious and compassionate towards those under him. He will not be the kind of man his father was, he will show mercy and protect those he’s been charged with. But he will also show restraint and solidity, so that he will not be viewed as weak and taken advantage of.

Patton was willing to forgive Janus and give him a second chance because he showed remorse for his actions and a will to change his ways. Had he not, Patton wasn’t sure he would have allowed himself to go back, no matter how much he wanted to.

“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Virgil grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“W-what? Why would you ask that?” Patton spluttered in embarrassment, staring back at Virgil with wide eyes while his friend laughed.

“Come on Pat, it’s kinda obvious.” He said, wiping away a tear from his eye. Patton kept his mouth shut and crossed his arms away, not wanting to give anything away despite being an open book. Virgil shrugged and reached past him to grab his packed bag and threw it over his shoulder and walked over to the open window, where he had most likely come in from in the first place. “Are you coming?”

“You’re not going to stop me?” Patton question, having expected a bit more resistance from his childhood friend.

“Would you listen if I tried?” Virgil countered,

Patton chucked and grinned, already knowing the answer and glad to have Virgil’s, perhaps begrudging, support. He went to the window and grabbed Virgil’s outstretched hand, and with one word from the sorcerer, they were out the window and flying away towards the forest. The sunlight shone its last bit of rays over the horizon before disappearing, and by the time they landed back to earth, Patton had once again reverted back into a frog.

…

The twilight forest glittered and glistened as fireflies danced through the trees like flickering candles. The sky above their heads became stained with black ink as the crescent moon began to rise into the sky. Hues of purple and pink remained far off on the edge of the earth, fading away as the night grew long. The crickets chirped and strung their instruments in an orchestra, filling the quiet void with music as the singing birds slept. A new melody then rose up to accompany their strings, a pounding drum of footsteps running across the forest floor, with the occasional clang of a symbol from crunching leaves and snapping sticks.

Virgil sped down the dirt paths to the lake with Patton tucked safely in his hood, peering over his shoulder and directing him where to go since his frog-state granted him night vision. They had flown most of the way there, but they had to land in the open meadow before they reached the den since landing in the trees was too risky to do in the dark. Luckily, Patton recognized their whereabouts and was able to guide them to where they needed to go.

Soon enough, they had arrived at the threshold of the den at the base of an old cedar tree. Virgil slowed down to a stop and lifted his hand to Patton for him to step into and sat him down on the ground.

“I’ll be right here. You go do your thing.” Virgil told him with a tilt of the head, crouching to settle down comfortably in the grass.

Patton nodded and turned to the den entrance and suddenly felt extremely nervous. It had only been a little less than two weeks since he last saw Janus, but it felt like much longer. He didn’t know what to do or say or how Janus would react to seeing him again. It could be that Janus wouldn’t want to see him and cast him away, or perhaps he would be overjoyed and welcome him back readily. Well, no matter what reaction he was met with, Patton decided that he would go and was not about to back down from that decision.

Patton took his first step, and then his second, and continued on until he was on his way down the tunnel into the den. The air was stiff inside and slightly dank, it seems colder than usual as well despite the night air being warm above.

“Janus?” Patton called out cautiously, peering around the den, “Are you here?”

“Patton?” A hoarse and sleepy voice answered.

Patton turned his head to where the voice had come from. At the far side of the den, among the pile of twigs and leaves, Janus stuck his head out and stared at him in disbelief.

“Janus!” Patton squealed in excitement, hopping over to him swiftly like lightning and pulled him into a tight hug. Janus lurched in surprise from the sudden act of intimacy, and yet he did not pull away. “I am so sorry Janus, I should have let you explain yourself, I should have listened, I was just angry and-” Patton said in rapid-fire succession all in one breath, not pausing to breathe or rest. Janus quickly interrupted him, though and quickly put an end to his long-winded apology.

“Stop, Patton, stop, please don’t apologize to me. I’m the one who should be begging for your forgiveness.” He told him, his voice quiet but earnest, “Why did you come back?”

“Because I’ve missed you, and I know what happened, to your parents I mean.” Patton explained sympathetically.

“Oh,” Janus said, becoming uncomfortable and didn’t say anything more, clearly not waiting to visit or talk on the subject.

Patton didn’t really know what to say either, but still tried to offer his condolences, even if they meant very little to alleviate his pain.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Janus didn’t openly respond to his solace and let the topic fall, and instead turned the conversation back around and at Patton.

“You’re not angry anymore?” He asked,

“No, I am,” Patton said bluntly, smiling softly, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still love you.”

Patton could see Janus physically and mentally halt at his words, as though he was still processing what he heard.

“You love me?” He echoed slowly,

“Yeah, I-” Janus then out of nowhere, shocked him by nipping at his leg. Not enough to make him bleed, but enough for it to sting. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“Are you sure you’re not dreaming? You realize who you’re talking to right?” Janus asked for confirmation, still looking unsure and doubtful.

“Yes I do, but now you’re starting to make me rethink-” Again, Janus surprised him, but this time with a, albeit awkward, embrace as the snake did his bed to hug him as a creature with no limbs.

“I love you too.” He whispered back,

Patton gasped a little at the confession, half of him expecting to be rejected, and his heart filled with joy and exuberance. He suddenly felt like he was floating high above in the sky, dancing across the surface of the moon.

“I’m so sorry.” Janus whimpered,

“I know, I am too.” Patton shushed him, petting his scales soothingly.

“I’ve wanted to undo the curse for a long time, but my magic is too weak in this form.”

“I may have a solution to that,” Patton said, pulling with a smile.

He gestured for Janus to follow after him and led the snake out of the den and outside to where Virgil remained seated in the dew-soaked grass. Janus immediately tensed up upon spotting him and hissed, backing away defensively.

“Sup, Janus.” Virgil greeted nonchalantly,

“What are you doing here?” Janus questioned impudently,

“I’m here for Patton, not for you; and let me just say one thing.” Virgil rose to his feet menacingly, “If you hurt him in any way again, then next time I’ll turn you into a flea and squash you myself.”

“Please don’t do that.” Patton chimed in, sighing, “Can you undo his curse?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Janus, and Janus narrowed his eyes right back. The two appeared to be having a silent game of wills. It could also be that they were using a spell to speak to each other telepathically as sorcerers because after a few moments passed, the two seemed satisfied as if they had come to a mutual agreement.

“Fine, just hold still, snake,” Virgil commanded, holding his hand out at Janus as both it and his eyes began to glow. Words of an unknown language began to spill from his mouth, and at the same time, Janus began to glow with a purple gleam.

Gradually, Janus’s shape began to alter and change, and as this happened, his power and magic began to be restored to its former strength. So, without waiting to finish his transformation, Janus turned to Patton, stuck halfway between a snake and a human, and started to lift the curse on him as well. A radiant gold surrounded Patton as he began to shift back into his human form. However, unlike all the times before when he had turned once he was touched by daylight, it wasn’t excruciating or painful. Instead, it was soft and comforting and filled him with new life and energy.

After a minute or two, the light around them began to fade, leaving the two cursed ones to be cursed no more and fully human once again. Patton looked down at his hands and feet and saw that they were his own, however, it wasn’t until tears of joy began to prickle at his eyes that he realized that he was indeed back to himself for good.

“I can cry again.” He sniffled, wiping the tears away from his eyes and staring down at the water in his palms with jubilee.

“And I can finally do this,” Janus said before grabbing Patton by the bicep and pulling him into a kiss.

It was short and not very deep, but it was sweet and passionate, and more than enough to make Patton flush a bright red. The moment passed quickly, however, as Virgil soon stepped between them and pushed them apart.

“Dress first, kiss later, you damn snake.” He said, throwing a set of clothes in his face and handing another pair and glasses to Patton.

It wasn’t until he said that that Patton looked down at himself and realized that he was, in fact, nude. He squeaked and rushed to cover himself, blushing even more furiously and not daring to lift an eye towards Janus.

“You just had to ruin my fun, I actually prefer to do it undressed-”

“Thank you for the clothes, Virgil, but do you mind giving us some privacy so we can talk?” Patton hastily interrupted, stopping Janus before he could say anything too risque.

Virgil looked hesitant to comply, obviously against leaving his friend to be left alone naked with the other man, but eventually gave in to the puppy eyes that Patton gave him.

“Fine, but I’ll be watching,” Virgil said and floated directly upward into the trees to sit on a branch high above their heads, out of earshot, peering down at them like an owl.

Patton watched him as he went, and once he saw that his friend had settled down he looked back to Janus, who was staring at him intently.

“Um, Janus, you mind turning around?” Patton asked shyly, fidgeting awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

“If you insist, although you are rather beautiful to look at.” Janus complimented with one last look before turning himself around and getting dressed in the spare clothes Patton had brought along in his bag. Patton twirled around as well, keeping his eyes up and not daring to look anywhere south.

The two remained quiet for a moment as they clothed themselves in the dark. Patton missed his ability to see in the dark as a frog for just a moment, as he ended up putting his shirt on backward twice before he was able to get it right. Once they were decent, the two spun back around and looked at each other, both at a loss for words.

The forest was poorly lit in the night, the crescent moon unable to provide as much light as when it was full. Due to that, despite Janus standing right before him, he could only see his silhouette and couldn’t determine any distinct features. What he did notice, though, was that he was slightly taller than Janus by about an inch or two.

Janus must have had a similar train of thought because he silently cast a spell to illuminate the area around them, the same light spell he had used in the meadow as a present. All at once, Patton was able to see Janus for the first time as a man and not as a snake. He had sharp, pointed features and medium length, wavy brown hair. Although, what stood out to him the most was his beautiful heterochromatic eyes, with his brown right eye and golden-hazel left. His beauty took his breath away and he was left to stare at him in wonder.

Tenderly, Janus reached out a hand to cup Patton’s cheek and run his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. Patton sighed and leaned into the touch, placing his hand over the others. They remained like that for a few moments longer, neither wanting to let the feeling of each other pass. However, something left unsaid still remained between them that needed to be voiced.

“So, what now?” Patton murmured,

“I don’t know.” Janus stated, frowning and lowering his hand, “Despite my love for you, I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to forgive your father.”

“I thought so.” Patton said with a sad smile, “But maybe you don’t have to.”

“What do you mean?” The other asked,

“Perhaps we can go away together, travel around until my time comes to be the landlord. I can live among the commoners, so that I may better understand them and their lives. That way I can be a kinder master to the tenants.” He suggested,

Patton still loved his father, and although he was angry with him for what happened in the past, he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly been able to hate him. But that’s because of their familial bond and he can’t, and shouldn’t, expect the same from Janus. He would miss him, but he needed to get away so that he could think and grow on his own. His father has been overly protective and stifling since his mother’s death; he was already twenty-three years old and had never set foot out past the port town. It was a time that he left the nest, even if he didn’t have his father’s permission. As long as he had Janus by his side he knew he'd be okay.

“How would your father feel about your sudden departure?” Janus asked him,

“I will write to him when I can so he will know that I am well.” Patton responded, “So, what do you think?”

Janus brought his fist up to his chin and lightly tapped his skin with a finger, humming in mock thought.

“It sounds like the perfect revenge.” He grinned.

Taglist: @enragedbees @canvas-the-florist @self-taught-mess

#sanders sides #ts fic #my fic #moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #lilypadton #snake janus #thomas sanders #the snake and the frog #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with happy ending

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