#Link isn’t going to make too much of a fuss

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Remember the Shafows of Twilight fic where Twilight got revealed as a wolf and were was an ask about how Ulli won't let Twilight on the couch without a bath? Can you write that?

The stakes were higher than ever. Link refused to lose. Glaring determinedly, he settled his elbow on the table as Rusl sat across from him, mirroring his position. Colin shifted, filled with nervous and excited energy, and then he started to count down.

Both men's arms shook with exertion the instant Colin finished counting. Uli watched from the kitchen, rocking Hama steadily. Of all the family, she looked somehow the most invested but least emotional about it. Her gaze was seemingly neutral, but her eyes wouldn't leave the table.

Colin gasped as Link started to push Rusl's arm closer to the table. Rusl's grip tightened, face pulling with effort. Link smiled, knowing he was going to win.

And then Rusl exhaled heavily through his nose, putting all his energy into one last effort, catching Link off guard and slamming his fist into the table. Colin yelled in surprise, hands thrown into the air for emphasis.

From the kitchen, Uli let out a breath she'd been holding, smiling in victory.

Link wilted at the table, a seeming cloud looming over him.

"Then it's settled," Rusl huffed, panting. "The wolf gets a bath."

Link groaned.

That evening, with extreme reluctance, Link dragged his feet to the sacred spring. He didn't bother mentioning that the spring would likely transform him back immediately. There was absolutely no need to share that information.

Uli, on the other hand, was humming cheerfully as Rusl followed her with supplies in hand. Colin, despite multiple protests, was expressly forbidden from coming along. Link had to save his dignity somehow.

"Ma," he pleaded for the millionth time. "I'm clean already. What's the point of this?"

"Honey, when you were showing Colin your wolf form we all could smell it," Uli replied as gently as she could, but the words still made his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "And your fur is matted and bloody. I... I just want to help you wash that journey off you."

Link didn’t really have a rebuttal for that, words stolen away with his breath. The tenderness woven in the words that his guardian spoke immediately eliminated any other protest he might have, and he sighed reluctantly.

Did he truly want to wash such a journey off him? Did he truly want to let go?

Midna…

She said goodbye. He supposed he should too.

He didn’t want to say goodbye. It didn’t feel like it’s as over.

But he couldn’t say no to his mother, so he grabbed the shadow crystal and let the dark magic break and reshape him. It was a familiar sensation by now, intensely painful but only for a moment, and far less so now that he was expecting it. When the wolf shook free of the shadows, he tentatively stepped towards Uli and Rusl.

Uli smiled, kneeling onto the ground at the shore, arm stretched out invitingly. Link took another small step, listening to Rusl chuckle, and he felt his ears peel back in mild annoyance.

This was ridiculous. He didn’t need a bath. It was silly.

It was downright terrifying. He didn’t want to lose everything from his journey. He didn’t want to wash it off himself.

He didn’t know how to move forward.

Uli cupped her hands, letting sacred water sprinkle over Link. It was warm, relaxing, and he felt his body shiver as the dark magic that changed him tried to recede.

“This might not be the best place for this,” Rusl noted. Link glanced at him, disappointed that the man was already picking up that the water would change him back, but he also noticed a distinct unease to his guardian’s posture.

Rusl didn’t want to be here either. Somehow, his amusement had changed to anxiety. Link could sense it; he could smell it.

In an attempt to cheer Rusl and perhaps give a little act of defiance to Uli’s proposal in the first place, Link flopped on his side, splashing directly into the water and soaking his mother. The warmth wrapped around him like a hug, minimizing the pain as he shifted back, and he smiled up at his guardians as Uli spluttered and Rusl immediately looked relieved.

Does he really think it’s a gift if he gets that nervous? Link wondered, watching his father step toward him.

“Well, now you have an actual reason for a bath in both forms,” Rusl noted, and Link recognized that hew as now covered in mud.

Well… that backfired.

Uli tutted, rising, as Link spluttered for a comeback. Rusl tackled the protesting teenager. After a brief wrestling match, Link found himself in Rusl’s embrace, shivering from the breeze but warm against his guardian’s chest. Somehow, in the time they’d been playing, Uli had grabbed a large tub—the one they usually used for bathing anyway—and was filling it with water.

“Ma, I’m all clean now,” Link said quickly, looking himself over. He was soaking wet, but the mud was certainly gone.

“This is for your other form,” Uli insisted. “I got the water from upstream.”

“Does that make it less sacred…?” Rusl wondered quietly.

“Ordona hasn’t sat in it yet, I guess,” Link grumbled, growing irritated again.

“If we build a fire we can warm it up,” Uli noted with a smile.

Her face was too gentle to keep arguing with her, and Link sighed, leaning heavily against Rusl. He glanced up at him, catching his father’s attention, and Rusl held him a little tighter as if to ask what’s wrong?

“When I… you were…” Link swallowed, trying to find the words. He didn’t want to upset Rusl - things were tenuous enough after the night he’d discovered his ability.

“Link,” Rusl said quietly, gently. “I… we both are still trying to move on from that night. Your transformation doesn’t scare me. I know it’s you. You know that.”

“But—”

“My worries have nothing to do with you being a wolf,” Rusl interrupted. “Sometimes fathers just worry. I love you. Now come on, your mother’s waiting.”

Link sighed, not pushing the matter, but Rusl didn’t let him go as he guided him out of the water. Despite wanting to get it over with at this point, Uli made him wait until she was satisfied with the water temperature, dragging his embarrassment and anxiety out further.

Rusl distracted him with talk of sword fighting and tales from the Resistance, and eventually Link finally settled, nearly forgetting why they were at the spring in the first place.

Until Uli said the water was ready.

“Ma, do I have to?”

“Oh, Link, come on now, it isn’t that bad!”

Uli’s voice was growing more disappointed rather than exasperated, and Link felt a twinge of guilt. Sighing, he transformed once more. Rusl, with his back to the spring, gently nudged him forward, and Link grumbled, feeling it rumble in his chest like a growl before it shaped into a pathetic little howl of protest as it left his muzzle.

His parents laughed. They laughed at his plight.

Ears peeled, tail tucked, Link climbed carefully into the basin with Rusl’s help. As soon as the warm water started to seep into his coat, he swallowed, hesitantly relaxing into it. It… certainly felt nice. He resigned himself to his fate as Uli’s hands ran through his fur, gentle, careful, detangling as she went. He saw the tools stacked on a rock, gathered by Rusl over several trips to Castle Town, and he huffed again.

Link closed his eyes as Uli’s hands moved towards his face and muzzle. He closed his eyes, and for a moment time washed over him, hearing his mother’s screams on his first return to the village after transforming, feeling the steel of Rusl’s blade in his gut as he rested. He shriveled into himself a little, and Uli paused before carefully massaging along his nose, between his eyes, behind his ears. She started humming gently, a familiar tune he’d heard most of his life, and Link hated how his lupine form couldn’t hide his emotions like usual, hated how a little whine escaped his throat.

Uli leaned down and kissed his forehead, hugging him, careless of the soap suds she was getting on her. She didn’t speak, and he was thankful for it, as he felt his predicament couldn’t get much more humiliating, but somehow it soothed him anyway. As his mother continued, he dared to open his eyes, glancing at Rusl, who was watching him with a gentle smile. When they made eye contact, his guardian came in closer, cupping his muzzle with his hands and gently rubbing across the fur on his cheeks with his thumbs.

Link shivered a little, helpless and hating that fact. But he felt safe in their care, and… that was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Link had no need to worry about whether he actually felt safe - he would make a situation safe. Usually, he was the one people went to for safety. But here, in this quiet little moment, he relaxed.

He relaxed. He hadn’t done that since he’d gone fishing with Midna months ago, long before things had grown overwhelming and constant, before they’d managed to find most of the mirror shards, before urgency had kicked in over everything else.

With every new rinse, the stench of blood and dirt lessened. With every gentle caress, anxieties and tight muscles that hadn’t eased since fighting Ganondorf started to release.

Link stepped out of the tub, feeling utterly exhausted and rejuvenated, and he glanced at his guardians. They smiled back.

And then he got the sudden urge to get all this water off him. So he did.

He shook his coat vigorously, making Rusl and Uli yelp. If he could smirk in his wolf form, he would.

”Just for that, I’m using the puppy perfume,” Uli chided.

Link howled in protest, making a beeline for the woods, and Rusl grabbed him before he could flee. His ire was evident in each and every howl and yelp, in the way he wiggled so vigorously he covered his father in fur. Rusl only laughed, but he did finally concede, “Maybe we can avoid the puppy perfume, dear.”

With that threat rescinded, Link relaxed, held awkwardly in Rusl’s arms before grumbling and wiggling again. Put me down.

Rusl walked to the spring, grip tightening a little, before gently lowering him into the blessed waters. Link felt the dark magic recede, and he sighed, rising a little woozily, muscles still fairly relaxed, held steady by his guardian’s strong hands.

“There, see?” Rusl said with a smile, guiding Link out of the water. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“I didn’t get a chance to brush your coat,” Uli noted a little disappointedly.

“You already bathed me,” Link pointed out exasperatedly. “I don’t need pampering.”

“Your fur’s going to be all matted, hon.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Leave it be, dear,” Rusl defended Link gently. “I think we could all benefit from a break.”

With that, Uli immediately switched tactics, insisting Link come home with them and rest. Link wanted to argue—it wasn’t like getting a bath was traumatic, not in the slightest, just embarrassing; it wasn’t like he hadn’t just had some kind of release from his journey, as she’d promised… it wasn’t like he was shivering and vulnerable all of a sudden, wanting to hold desperately on to that feeling of safety he’d just gotten back—but there was no argument in the world that would work against her.

Link let his parents guide him back to their house, and he found himself settled in front of the fire with a warm glass of milk. Colin was at his side in an instant, smiling and leaning against him. He paused, sniffing, making Link throw him a bewildered look.

“I thought you’d smell like the shampoo or something,” Colin said thoughtfully. “That form really does hide stuff.”

Link knew Colin meant it innocently, but given what Uli had said earlier, it really hit harder than it should. He shook the feeling off, elbowing his little brother. “Well, I’m glad. I don’t want to smell like roses.”

But what if he no longer held Midna’s scent in his fur either? His heart lurched a moment, chest feeling like he’d been punched, and his eyes widened a moment.

And then Rusl and Uli settled beside him with blankets and leftover biscuits from breakfast. And though Link still missed his friend so desperately, he knew he wasn’t at least completely alone.

And… perhaps washing some of the stains of his journey away had been a good idea after all.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for VideoGeek; Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

“Ka-Lair,” Ma says again, low and soothing. She says some other words too. Kara doesn't understand them. 

She can't stop crying. 

She's not supposed to cry. Not in front of Kal. Kal has to see her smiling. Kal–Kal has to–

He has to. 

So she can't be crying right now. 

“Ka-Lair,” Ma repeats one more time. She reaches out. Puts a hand on the porch between them. 

Kara needs to stop crying. She's fine. She just needs to stop crying. She's fine because she has to be fine and she's not crying because Kal needs her to not be crying and she–and she–

And she's fine. 

She is. 

Ma says something else. Turns her hand upright in offering. 

Kara can't let go of Kal to take it. 

It's not safe to let go of Kal. 

He’s so little, and she knew he could fall. She knew it. How was she so stupid, to leave him alone and unwatched all the way across the porch? She knew better! She’d thought about it, and he’s so little! 

And she’d still turned away and taken her eyes off him, because she’d been so weak and pathetic as to need to be upset. 

Kal needs her not to be upset. Kal needs her to take care of him. 

Kal needs her, and she let him fall. 

Kara sobs harder, and Ma leans in and wraps her arms around her. She wants to shove away, but can’t do that to her. Can’t be ungrateful like that, when Ma and Pa have given them so much. 

But she doesn’t deserve it. She let Kal fall, and she’s being a problem and an inconvenience to Ma, and she’s being a problem. She can’t do that. This. Any of this. 

She needs to not be a problem. She needs to help out and not cause trouble and not inconvenience them and take care of Kal and never, ever take her eyes off him and–and–

And she needs to stop crying like this! 

Why can’t she just–just stop? 

Ma makes strange and quiet little hissing noises and hugs her tighter; strokes a hand back through her hair. The last person who did that was her mother, and now her mother isn’t the last person who did that. And her mother will never do it again. Will never . . . never . . . 

Why can’t she stop crying? 

Kal chimes in distress again, still trying to squirm out of her arms, and Kara unthinkingly tightens her grip to keep him there. He yelps in pain, and she jerks–lets him go quick, and he nearly tumbles out of her lap. Ma catches him against her chest, and Kara let him fall again, she let him fall she let him fall she let him fall–! 

“Ka-Lair,” Ma says, and makes more of those quiet little hissing noises as she keeps stroking through her hair, and now down Kal’s back too even as Kara yanks him back into her lap in a panic. Kal fusses, and then starts crying too, and it’s all her fault, Kara did this, she’s awful at this, she’s supposed to be taking care of him and keeping him happy and safe and instead she let him fall, twice, and made him cry! 

Ma keeps talking. Kara doesn’t understand any of the words, and even though she’s clearly trying to help, the flat, alien tones of her voice sound all wrong. There’s nothing soothing about those tones, and Kara doesn’t understand the words. 

She wants to go home. 

She wants home to still be there, even if she couldn’t go back to it. 

Everything’s gone. Everyone is gone. It’s just her and Kal and a pair of crystals in a couple of wrecked ships. 

That's all it'll ever be again. 

Krypton is dead. Their family is dead. They're all that's left, and there won't ever be another Kryptonian born. Won't ever be another Kryptonian at all. 

She'll never see her mother again.

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part V: Happy

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I've crawled out of my depression hole to give you the last epilogue-esque part of The Making of Ellie. Watch me disappear again now.

Summary: Joel's thoughts surrounding fatherhood and newborn Ellie.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, thoughts of fatherhood, mention of Sarah’s mother, breastfeeding

Word count: 1.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051/chapters/124097539

Happy

Ellie is the tiniest baby Joel has ever seen and with the loudest voice, Joel has ever heard. She seems to sport her mother’s temper from the moment that she is born, and he knows from the get-go that she will have Sarah’s ability to persuade him to do anything just by merely existing. She fits in both of his palms which is unfathomable even if he knows that he has big hands, fits on top of your belly too, her previous home, if she’s curled into a little ball, and you call him a goof whenever he utters ‘Bellie’ under his breath whilst admiring her sleeping on you. The first time he had said it, your soft laugh had made Ellie cry again yet not as fiercely, and Joel had argued that she liked the nickname. 

“We need to monitor her heart rate,” a nurse had said after the first few hours that the two of you had had Ellie alone. Joel was reluctant to hand her over at first, but when he got her back into his arms, her sporting a little blue monitor around her ankle, that same nurse had made him flush when she praised him for evening out her rapid pulse by doing skin-to-skin contact. 

It’s pretty much all he does now; holds her tiny body in his hands with his shirt off so he can feel his daughter properly, connect with her as you get much-needed rest in between feedings. 

He has also proclaimed that he can tell the difference between Ellie’s cries. You say that ‘it’s been two days’, but he is certain and confident in his abilities. This isn’t his first time at the rodeo. Ellie’s cries have different pitches when she’s in his or your arms compared to when she’s getting picked up by the nurses. He has to stop himself from interfering with their work, mostly by your request, but he still hovers around the hospital staff whenever they are in your room. 

“She’s too tiny, we need to keep an eye on her weight,” they say. By instinct, he wants to say that she is perfect just the way she is. She’ll get there. She’s strong. He can tell. 

“Silly man,” you say into a kiss when you notice his pacing as nurses bathe or weigh her, and Joel is absolutely fine with being just that. A silly, foolish man with a desperate need to look out for his three girls despite no danger lurking around the corner. But then again? Isn’t being a parent equal to living in fear of losing said child? Ellie has only been in the real world for two days, and he would burn the world down to the ground if it meant that she would be safer. 

Joel knows that he has been here before. Sarah, albeit not as tiny, made him feel the exact same things that he is going through right now but still, there’s a part of him that has forgotten just how nerve-wracking having an infant is and just how much it fucks with the perception of everything. Whilst being terrified, he loves Ellie so intensely that it makes his head swim and he looks at you nervously as you announce that you can go home soon. He doesn’t get how you can say it and be so calm. 

You go home a week after Ellie is born, with a pink little hat on her head that is still a bit too large for her despite it being the smallest size they had. He drives the car under the speed limit. He checks the roads several times before turning. 

Sarah and Tommy wait for you in the kitchen, coming to greet you at the front door, and Joel does the pat-on-the-back hug with his brother who immediately fusses over Ellie as much as himself. He mentions that he and Maria might have one too, and makes a joke about Joel beating him to fatherhood once again. 

“She’s tiny,” he also says as Ellie cries, rocking her in his arms whilst Sarah runs a hand over her baby sister’s head. She has removed the hat after claiming that it’s falling into Ellie’s eyes, and whereas Joel would have protested the act in the hospital, he finds that he absolutely trusts his oldest daughter. 

“Don’t say that,” she chimes in, and then like she has read his mind despite them being apart for a week, “She’s perfect.” 

Joel catches your eye across the room at that. You look at him with the gentlest smile, and despite all his efforts to appear as the strong protector for a whole week in the hospital with you and his newborn baby, he feels the facade crumbling and it allows him to feel safe, happy and relaxed. He cries then, excuses himself to breathe in the crisp air outside in the place where he realized his love for you a few years back. 

Later, when the house empties - Tommy leaving with the excuse of letting you be a family of four - and everyone goes to bed, he settles into a new routine with you. 

He assembled the bassinet a few weeks ago, and he holds you as the two of you stare down at the tiny life that you’ve made together. Ellie sleeps with her arms above her head and kicks her legs when she wakes up crying in the middle of the night.

He tells you that he’ll get her, lays her against his naked chest until she simply coos instead of screaming, “That’s it, baby girl. No need to use that tone with your father. No monsters here, Bellie.”

When she starts moving her hand to her mouth, smacking her lips, and looking around, he rubs your back and tells you that Ellie is hungry, “Lookin’ for ya.”

You sit up in bed, barely awake as you nurse his daughter back to sleep. He admires the scene and knows how lucky he is; in his 40s and experiencing the greatest gift of life that he’ll ever receive once more. He gets sentimental about it too, thinking of the intimacy of seeing Ellie getting fed by her mother when he never got to with Sarah’s. It wasn’t good with the chemo that never saved her. 

Joel has never been able to pinpoint what had shifted the moment that he had let you into his life but with the comfort of knowing that Sarah is sleeping soundly in her own room, and by listening to the soft noises of you and Ellie sleeping occupying the room that had been so used to the sound of nothing, he knows that before, he had been satisfied but now, he is happy.

.

.

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[nerdieforpedro]

We need to be on the same page

Chapter 6 of Weddings 101 with Dieter Series

Dieter Bravo x Maya (plus size OFC)

This blog and fic are for readers 18+ MDNI

Summary: The fallout from the pictures begins and Dieter’s PR leader Vanessa is here to help, we think. Zack is just trying to stay employed. Dieter and Maya make a critical decision. Oscar might actually be useful.

Word Count: 3836

Warnings: naked people, a bad Beyoncé joke, messing with your assistant, some angst, no Cheetos or tequila were harmed in his chapter, sexual tension? or she might not be that into you dude, plotting, being an asshole sister in law, anxiety, I might have a good use for Oscar finally

Notes: This took me a while because I don’t like having loose ends and I wanted to build the drama! Not that there isn’t enough. 😆 With this chapter, this fic is my longest one to date, I'm proud of all the different directions it goes into. I have even more plans for them. 🫡

Main Masterlist/ Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Today was one of the days that Zack did not look forward to. He was at the villa at ten in the morning. The photos were everywhere, Vanessa had blown up his phone for information and face-timed him from the jet. He needed to warn both Dieter and Maya that she was coming. Maybe it would be good… “No, I'm lying to myself. Vanessa will question everything. Will I even have a job? She seemed mad though Mr. Bravo’s happy. Doesn’t that count for something? It’s not with drugs.” Walking up to the front door, he was going to use his key when he heard some giggling. “I just…I’ve seen Dieter naked. It’s kinda a requirement of the job. Just not Ms. Maya, she’s a nice lady.” He decided to knock loudly on the door, the giggles ceased and he heard footsteps heavy toward the door. 

“Who’s banging on my door this damn early?! You better get out of here!”

“Dee at least ask who it is.”

“I don’t care, it could be the president, pope or, no Beyonce could come in.”

“I am not meeting Beyonce in my robe. My hair is a mess, my face is puffy, I haven’t showered yet…that’s not who it is!”

“I mean, if she shows up on this door, she’s gonna have to be okay with my bare ass, balls and your robe with your cute puffy face. It’s just us. You don’t need one. I’m just going to take it back off to eat you for-.”

“MR. BRAVO IT’S ME ZACK! YOUR ASSISTANT!” He screamed, he didn’t need to hear Dieter removing anything off of Maya or eating her in any capacity, they can do that after he leaves later. Never any filter with this damn man, he just needs to remind himself of his loans. This is for your loans. This job is getting you out of debt.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” Dieter opens the door as Maya yells at him not to. She grabs the throw blanket off the couch and wraps it around Dieter's waist. Zack appreciates that someone has some sense of when to be naked and when not to be. 

“Good morning Ms. Maya. Hi Dieter.” The assistant enthusiasm only was on display for Maya who gave him a smile and a hello. Dieter sucked his teeth. 

“Hey! Why do you greet her like that? I’m your employer! Be happy to see me, dammit!” Bravo fussed and took a hold of the blanket that Maya had been holding. He needed to pull it up so he wouldn’t step on it. 

Zack set his messenger bag on the couch and made a mental note of which throw blanket that was. It would need to be washed later after being thrown on Vanessa first. Maybe in her face. 

“Have either of you turned on the TV or looked at your phones? I did try calling both of you, but I assume-” Zack trailed off. He took a good look at them both. Dieter had scratches on his shoulders and chest peppered with bruises. His neck has several hickeys and so did Maya’s. She on the other hand appeared to have bruises that resembled fingers maybe? Zack didn’t want to think too much about it. “You both were otherwise occupied.” He sat down in the overstuffed chair. Dieter sat in the middle of the couch with Maya on one end, he draped part of the blanket over her legs since her robe hit mid-thigh.

Maya shakes her head. “No. We haven’t. Is there something Dieter should be concerned about?”

“It’s something both of you should be concerned about Ms. Maya.” Zack sighs and pulls out his iPad. On it, he loads up Google and type in Dieter’s name. The first ten links are to various sites that have pictures and speculations about Maya and Dieter, their relationship, who she is, what he’s doing with her and all sorts of nonsense. Thankfully, the negative comments are at a minimum, most were wondering if Dieter was making a turn for the better after his two week long marriage to Anika. 

Dieter thought he’d been careful. The boutique had been cleared, he thought. The jet he hadn’t been concerned about much of anything except getting her to ride with him so that one’s on him. The restaurant was supposed to only have VIPs, others who wouldn’t care about him being there with someone. Outside of the wedding venue could have been anyone. He hadn’t been thinking on that one either, well other than spending time with Maya that is. Now he’s involved her without her full consent. “Dammit…” He turned to say something to her, anything, but she’d gotten up and walked upstairs. He stood to go after her but Zack called after Dieter.

“Sir, if you’re going to have a conversation with any meaning, at least put underwear on. Also Vanessa just texted and she’s an hour out. No word on what the plan is yet. Don’t say anything stupid to Ms. Maya. She’s…” The assistant’s voice trailed off as Dieter stood next to his chair naked with his hands on his hips.

“She’s what Zack? Maya is funny, wonderful, gorgeous and so damn soft. I better not catch you looking at-“

“Mr. Bravo. I was going to say she’s a normal person like me who’s likely freaked out about suddenly having her picture everywhere and her life questioned by people she doesn’t know. Also I don’t see her that way. I don’t see you or anyone that way. I don’t form attachments like that at least not right away and it needs to be the right person.”

“That’s right, you’re Demi-sexual right? I keep forgetting that.”

Zack massages his temples, his boss has gotten sidetracked. “Task at hand sir. Ms. Maya is freaking out. Reassure her with pants on.” He knew to keep it short so Bravo wouldn’t lose focus again.

“Right, I’m off. Tell Nessa we’ll be down shortly.” Making his way up the stairs, he quickly went into his room, tossed on some boxers and took a deep breath. “Taking advantage of this would be wrong…right?” Daisy nips at his toes. “Hey girl, you gave us some privacy last night? Thanks.” He picks her up and scratches behind her ears. “I want her to stay with us Daisy. I know she has her own stuff, but couldn’t it be part of mine? We could have our stuff.” The goat licks a bite mark on his neck, “Maya’s a bit rough with me Daisy. It’s been a long while since I’ve been handled like that.” The low chuckle at the memory had him curious when the next time would be, if there would be a next time.

In Maya’s room:

“Oh my god, oh my god….nononono…” Panic was taking over, what did this all mean? Is she going to need to change jobs? Her name? What do people even do in this situation? Is she just going to be some quiz show question? That’s not how Maya wants to be on Jeopardy. Pacing in her room, she hears her phone vibrate.

Maya picked up her phone and saw twenty missed calls, ten of which were from Elyssa. Her mother congratulated her for snagging not only a nice man but a rich one. Her little brother Michael said to call him, he needs to talk to this man who has her out all over the place. Her two older brothers said the same thing but told her that they won’t recognize him as a brother in law unless he passes a few tests. There were increasingly frantic texts from the bride demanding to know the following:

Why she brought a celebrity to her wedding?

Why she was trying to sabotage her?

Is it because the entire time she’s dated Michael, Maya’s always been alone?

Did you go into debt paying him to come with you? 

Or is this how you were able to afford coming out to the wedding in the first place?

“What the hell are they all talking about about Dieter is not…he’s…well. Maybe…” Her conviction is wavering but she can’t stay with Dee. She has work, a life, but the last few days have been nothing short of wonderful. “And last night was…”

“I thought between last night and this morning things were great, superb even. Am I wrong?” Strolling in her room wearing a pair of navy boxer briefs that hung just below the swell of his tummy, Dieter crossed his arms watching Maya stop her pacing. She looked up at him, feeling embarrassed, frustrated, pissed and if she was honest with herself, happy. Unable to meet his gaze, she kept her eyes on her phone, re-reading Elyssa’s texts. Dieter peered over her shoulder and clicked his tongue. “She really has nothing better to do then text you that? That woman is insufferable. I’d feel bad for your little brother if it didn’t sound like he was threatening me too. Doesn’t he know I have a goat?” 

Wrapping his arms around her, Maya her initial laugh turned into a sigh and leaned back against Bravo’s chest. “They’re just worried, though they don’t need to be.”

“Is that what you call it? I’d say they’re over-protective. And Elyssa is being a bitch with those questions. Anyway, forget all that, sit down.” Dieter tugs her over to the bed and has Maya sit across his lap with her legs to one side. She tried to stand up, but she still got his strong arms wrapped around her. “We need to talk cariño (sweetheart.)”

“I know. I’ll go to the hotel. Things should blow over right?” Still looking at her phone, thumbing through her Instagram. There are mostly curious comments, a few mean and racist ones, a couple others were congratulatory. Bravo takes her phone and tosses it on the bed. “Dee, what the hell?” Finally, she’s looking at him, with surprise and fear on her face.

“I know you’re scared Almond Joy. I also know you never asked for any of this, to be associated which a guy who’s known for fucking up everything he touches except for easels, scripts and KitKats.” A kiss to her shoulder has her stiffen, then relax. “I also…don’t want you to leave.” Maya’s watching his eyes again. They look the same as last night, burrowing within her. 

“I can’t. You know I can’t. I’m not like you Dieter.” Shutting her lids tight is the only way not to be drawn in by his cocoa pools. Putting an arm around his shoulder, her hand lands on his back where she’s scratched him. 

“I know you’re not Maya. That’s part of what makes you so majestic. The trust you have in me, the fun, some other things you might still have in you.” Her fingers pinched his cheek. 

“Be serious! I’m not built for that type of scrutiny Dee and we’re not even toget-“

“But what if we were? Together? I mean it’s pretty muddled but you snap me back in to focus. We can just date. I’m not saying you have to stay here, we just see each other when we can. Video calls and I’ll come see where you live and-“

“You’ll tell me it’s beneath me and I need to be somewhere else because I only live once or something right?” The quick peck to his lips paused his thoughts. “Is that what our relationship becomes? Calls and visits? I…” Maya laments, she just has to say it, but she can’t. “Just let me go. I can’t…” Slipping out of Dieter’s arms, she steps away from him only to be in front of the same mirror from last night. Where he showed her how beautiful he believes her to be. Her hands are in her face again. She’s frightened but he’s thinks it’s not only the prospect of being on display for people.

Instead of approaching her from behind Bravo stands in front of her, “Ahora relájate y deja que cuide de ti (Relax now and let me take care of you).” Dieter places his hands on hers and moves them, she allows him to without a fuss. Her eyes are closed and there are tears at the edges, his lips wipe them away. “Let me. I’m not saying you’ll be a kept woman. You know that’s not what I mean. Just be honest with me, like you were last night. Tell me what you want.”

Maya knows he’s giving her a huge opening. She’s been fighting what she wants. She told herself it’s just for now, and then it was until the wedding was over. But Dieter’s offering it to her, why can’t she just say it?! “I..I…want. I want to stay with you. Be silly, wake up with you and do more fun things. Like the beach, swimming, brunch, just a drive. I don’t want to worry anymore. I’d like…” Dieter places his forehead against Maya’s as her tears fall. He doesn’t wipe them away this time. Just lets her continue. “I’d like to be fussed over, just some. Not in a weird dominating way but like…a soft way. Like am I okay, do I need anything, does that feel good, would you like more, do you even like that, what do you want to do today, what are your favorite foods and colors…Ugh…that was way too much. I can’t-“

“No. You can Maya. Be greedy. Ask for my time. Tell me to give you all you want. I don’t know if I can but I can damn well try. Mi mujer perfecta (My perfect woman).” He kisses her forehead and cups her face with his large hands. Her eyes are red and puffy. “I’ll say it again. I don’t want you to go Kit Kat. Just stay and worry about yourself. Please.”

“I feel like I’m watching a romance film right now. My, my…It looks like we won’t need to manufacture a real relationship between the two of you.” A woman of about five feet seven inches with auburn hair and matching butterfly tattoos on each arm. She wore a sleeveless navy blue slim fit dress with black red bottom heels. Her red tote bag swayed with her steps toward the couple. “Sorry to interrupt darlings, such a sweet moment, but we need to go ahead and decide how we want the chips to fall.” She smiled, patting Maya’s shoulder, studying her wet face. This Maya is cute, she almost wants to pinch her cheek. That didn’t matter much, what would matter is what these two decided to do. “My name is Vanessa. I’m the leader of Dieter’s PR team. Meet me downstairs when you two are dressed, don’t take too long. There’s much to discuss.” The fixer disappeared out of the room and back down the stairs to Zack, it looks like there was a lot he left out in his updates.

Back downstairs, Zack was being questioned by Vanessa after she peeked in on Dieter and Maya. She found out that Dieter had invited Maya on his jet after her flight was canceled. Since then, they’d grown closer and outside of one small sniff of a seat (Zack left out that it was coke on Maya’s seat - told her it was ecstasy). He also told her about Oscar’s fights with Dieter and the goat bite. Vanessa said she was aware of that one not the guitar one though. She said that she would table the idea of using Oscar in that manner, instead, why was Maya coming to Hawaii in the first place. Zack then remembered it was for a wedding, though who knows what’s happening with it now. From what he’s gathered, the bride, Maya’s future sister in law sounds like an asshole and crazy. Vanessa was making notes in a small pad she removed from her tote. “A plan is brewing Zack. You’ll need to actually keep me informed instead of pieces of information.”

”Yes ma’am. It’s just…Ms. Maya is really nice and Dieter seems somewhat sane with her. As sane as he’s going to be. It’s nice. No woodwind or brass instruments so far this week. I don’t know what his deal with the instruments is either. So weird. Or crazy parties. And I haven’t seen any toys askew but they could have just cleaned up which is still pretty nice and-“” Zack paused. “Just see how they are with each other, you’ll see.” 

Soon Maya and Dieter came downstairs fully dressed, Maya in a simple pink dress, flowing with wide sleeves and skirt. She’d cleaned her face but it was slightly red around the eyes and ends of her ears. Dieter had on a pair of black shorts with a white tee and sunglasses on his head. They sat on the couch and held hands. Zack and Vanessa watched their body language, in addition to them holding hands, Maya was leaning onto his shoulder and their knees were touching. If…they were seen like this out and about and if someone for whatever reason did an interview with them, it would reflect well for Dieter. Despite actually marrying that woman Anika, their interactions (outside of what happened in their bedroom) reflected two people that weren’t comfortable with each other and were distant. 

“Have you two decided what you want to do? It’s not really ideal for the start of any relationship, but at the very least we’ll be able to sell you two as being in a legitimate relationship.” With her white manicured nail, she drew an imaginary circle around the pair. “The way your two sit in silence with each other is excellent. I take it, a decision has been made?” Vanessa placed her elbow on the top of her bent knee. 

Maya squeezed Dieter’s hand and nodded, letting him talk, “Yeah we have Nessa.”

Later that evening…

Oscar was not pleased, what he woke up to was mostly positive headlines about Dieter Bravo. How happy he looked, how content, was it because of the new woman in his life? Was it something else? Maybe he came to Hawaii to rest and recharge and that’s why he looks like he has not a care in the world.  Issac’s plan had severely backfired, worse yet, his assistant informed him that he’d received a call from Vanessa La Roux’s office. Oscar is aware of who she is and has only one dealing with her before and that ended poorly, where he had to take a sabbatical afterward. 

Hanri knocked on Oscar’s hotel room door, he’d done as his boss asked and felt horrible about it. He was dropping off his boss’ usual order of tequila and three bags of hot Cheetos that he likes to eat in the evening. He had been propositioned by Vanessa and happily agreed to get her in the hotel and a private meeting with Mr. Issac. After getting her in, he left her to it and headed back to his room with his money. Oscar heard the door and called for the young man to bring him his snack.

“Good evening Oscar. Hanri is otherwise occupied.” Vanessa tilted her head and smiled, setting a bottle of tequila and the bags of cheetos on the end of the actor’s bed. “We have quite a bit to discuss tonight. You’ll need to be sober for this. After we talk you can drown yourself in your choice of drink.” She pulled up a chair and sat across from Oscar who was naked except for a soft eggshell robe that was wrapped around him.

“I figured you’d pop up at some point you damn she-devil. I guess my fun’s over. How much do I need to pay you to leave your little goat lover alone this time?” He remarks as he sips his red wine, expecting an outrageous number from her. It’s not like he hadn’t paid Vanessa and Dieter’s team before. Oscar enjoyed pissing Bravo off by any means. Their business ran on public opinion and numbers - no matter if it was scores, awards, stars, money, age, you name it, it could have a number. 

“No, no, no Oscar. You don’t get to just pay me this time. If it was just messing with Dieter, that’s one thing, but-“ Vanessa stood and snatched a bag of cheetos, ripping it so they spilled on the floor. “-you’ve not only been stalking him. Something you said you’d never do again, you also leaked pictures of him and his girlfriend, who hadn’t settled on being in the public eye yet and now she has to. No cheetos for you.” Grabbing a fist full of Oscar’s hair, she tugged on it. “You’re going to follow Dieter and Maya to the wedding and you’re going to do exactly as I tell you. Then we can talk about money and I can use it to fund another studio for Dieter.”

Sucking his teeth, Oscar nods and takes a swig of his tequila, the fixer lets go of his hair and extends her hand. They grip hands and shake, sitting back down. “What do I have to do jefa (boss)?” He attempted to touch her knee but she slapped her hand away. “Ahaha, You’re really serious aren’t you? Well jefa, that just makes the reward that much hotter doesn’t it?” His snicker has Vanessa shift her weight from side to side.

Looking over her shoulder, she sneered. “That was only one time. Don’t test your luck Issac. I’ll be in touch.” She walks out leaving him to his late night snack. “You know you’re too old to be drinking like that, it was that same tequila that got you and Dieter on a lifetime ban from The Muppets.” 

Oscar smiled as he stood and walked up behind Vanessa. Not touching her, just leaning over her shoulder to meet her face a few inches away. “I don’t recall you saying that in the green room when I had my Count cape on, and that wasn’t just one time. Unless you count it as one within a certain time period.” She exhaled and continued toward the door and Oscar followed her, but gave her more space, holding the door open for her. “I’ll take your ever so thoughtful advice mi jefa.” He takes a bow as she walks out. 

On her way down to the car, Vanessa whips out her phone and texts Zack to tell Maya (as she’ll actually make sure Dieter’s on time) to ensure that they are at the dress rehearsal for the wedding on time tomorrow. Thankfully, it’s only some family stuff that Maya can skip and she mentioned after their talk that she would be having lunch with her mother. 

The stage is prepared except for a few pieces here and there. This wedding rehearsal will be a vivid experience for all those in attendance. Vanessa was counting on it for Dieter’s sake, it was her job after all.

The Trash Panda Possse 🦝: @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@soft-persephone @saturn-rings-writes @readingiskeepingmegoing @harriedandharassed @yorksgirl @bishtrouille

@missladym1981

Chapter 5 Chapter 7

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 10: Stable

something is sparking between aureia and sidurgu, and they can't seem to see it. but rielle can. sidurgu x female warrior of light (pre-relationship), mentions of aymeric x wol. set during stormblood patches, but after the lvl 60-70 drk quests. rated: teen 2086 words ao3 link

“…when I said you could accompany us back to Ishgard, I didn’t mean for it to become a godsdamned holiday.”

“Resting at an inn is not a holiday.”

“And this isn’t a sight-seeing trip!”

“It’s fine, Sid! It’s one night! Is there something wrong with one night?”

“It’s dangerous, that’s what. For her, for you, for me.”

“Dangerous from whom, exactly? The Empire’s been all but routed from Gyr Abania. Besides, I don’t think many in patrons would consider confronting two dark knights head-on, and those that could would be drunk out of their minds. Please tell me you’re not afraid of a drunkard.”

“That’s not—godsdammit, you can be a right bloody bonehead when you want to be, you know that, eh?”

Rielle sighs and leans forward in her saddle, patting Filo’s neck. The chocobo chirrups, his head tugging on the reins as he leans into her hand, enjoying the feel as she pets his shiny black feathers. The day has stretched on and on, the road getting longer with every step, Baelsar’s Wall shadowing the horizon and somehow never getting closer, the dusty heat growing intolerable in the Gyr Abanian haze.

If she were younger—or travelling alone, let’s be honest—she would have pelted Sidurgu with the oh-so-tempting “are we there yet?” question, but for now she holds her tongue. Though Sidurgu has dragged her from one end of Coerthas to the other, even trekking into Gridania on the rare occasion, this is the furthest from Ishgard she has ever been. Her rear and legs may ache from too many hours in the saddle, but even with Sidurgu and Aureia’s endless bickering, she can’t remember a time she was this happy on the road.

She doesn’t want it to end.

She’s being selfish, she knows. Like a little kid—an actual little kid, thank you very much—asking for another five minutes at their favourite park, or clinging onto a favourite toy that has long since fallen apart. Sidurgu wanted them to return on their own, without company. He didn’t say as much—not aloud—but she saw it in his eyes when tending to his wounds. If he wasn’t stuck leaning against a rock, moaning and groaning and complaining about her fussing over him, he would have taken her and stalked down the road the moment Aureia’s back was turned. So, she struck at the opportune moment, piping up before he could say or do anything, and pointedly asked her—“You’ll come back with us to Ishgard, won’t you?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a crease in her brow, a downcast turn to her eyes, and in that moment Rielle feared she would say no. But then she brightened, a warm smile spreading across her face, and she said—“I suppose I must. I’m going the same way, after all.”

That was yesterday. They walked for a time, Filo puffing and panting beneath Sidurgu’s weight before it became too much for the chocobo. The poor thing was the runt of his flock—Aureia’s told her the story many times—incapable of carrying an Elezen cavalier let alone a massive Au Ra in full plate armour and with a greatsword to boot.

And so they camped early, finding a spot beneath a single sprawling tree. Leaving Sidurgu to make the fire—he insisted, it was the one thing he could manage without aggravating his wounds—Rielle and Aureia hurried down the slope to the little rippling stream. Rielle wasn’t much help; she splashed in the water, giggling and free, scaring away the fish Aureia tried her best to catch. A waste, maybe, but neither Aureia nor Sidurgu told her off for it. She was too busy enjoying wading in the stream herself, and he… well. Rielle is certain he was looking at her a different way. Or maybe the same way he always has. Or maybe…

They had the last of their rations that night, laughing and smiling around the fire. It did not feel like a rationed meal.

And now today. Aureia suggested she ride Filo instead, leaving her and Sidurgu to walk ahead. Rielle was thrilled—still is, even though she is hurting all over now. She has never properly ridden a chocobo before, and Filo is such a pretty bird. The hands at the Holy Stables call him mean and difficult—he has a legendary grudge against one of the Scions, the Hyur with the white hair Aureia makes weird faces when he’s mentioned—but Rielle thinks differently. Difficult, no. Misunderstood? Maybe.  

She knows what that’s like.

But now the sun is slowly sinking toward the red-brown peaks, and they really are going to have to find somewhere to stay or camp. They’re approaching a crossroads—literally. Up the hill and over the ridge, there’s a little inn with a wide stable for chocobos and warm, soothing lights in the windows. The perfect place for a trio of weary travellers.  

But of course Aureia and Sidurgu can’t seem to make up their minds.

“Happy to be a bonehead, then, if it means someone here has the voice of reason,” Aureia says.

Sidurgu snorts, but Rielle knows better. Even when his back is turned, she can hear him trying not to smile—and his tail is curling. Sometimes she wonders if it’s the same sort of thing as those girls in the Forgotten Knight when they twist their hair around their finger while making eyes at Gibrillont. He only does it around her. Maybe he doesn’t even know it.

No matter how testy their bickering gets, he likes it. He used to bicker with Fray, too.

“You know those are incompatible,” he mutters. “Bonehead. Voice of reason. Not exactly the same thing.”

“What can I say? I’m full of contradictions. A right paradox, maybe.”

“Bloody hells, you can say that again. Here I was thinking you had put aside your greatsword for good when you all but kidnapped us on this little hol…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, good. And here I thought you said holiday for a moment.”

He lets out a long sigh and passes a hand across his face. “Aureia…”

She flashes him a grin.

He glares at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Aureia, please. Don’t make me laugh. I’d rather not bleed through my bandages tonight.”

From their position several paces behind, Filo chirrups and throws a look over his shoulder, his dark, beady eyes staring at Rielle. She shrugs and pats his neck. “I know,” she whispers. “I think they’re both being boneheads. What do you think?”

Filo chirps again and shakes himself from side to side in fervent agreement.

“Yes, exactly.”

Aureia raises her arms, her hands brushing the hilt of her greatsword as she pulls her hair back and twists it into a knot. It’s different from the messy, uneven crop she sported when Rielle first met her, long enough to brush her shoulders. There’s a bit of red in it, too, which Rielle doesn’t remember. She didn’t have that when she first came to Ishgard.

“The inn is a good option, Sid,” she says. “Give Rielle a normal night for once instead of sleeping on the ground again.”

“I know that, I simply—”

He pauses, bowing his head to look at her. The difference in height between them would be quite funny, if only height wasn’t such a sore spot. Rielle huffs, making a face. Aureia may be half-Elezen, but she did not inherit their height. Is it a sore spot for her, too? Rielle hasn’t thought to ask her.  

“All right, out with it. Don’t think I don’t know you, Aureia, this isn’t about the inn or Rielle. You’re hanging onto something.”

“I… am I?”

“You don’t want to go back to Ishgard, do you.”

It isn’t a question. An accusation? Something else?

His voice has dropped low, not quite a whisper. Rielle rises a fraction out of the saddle and leans in, straining her ears to catch the conversation.

“Maybe. Yes. Perhaps.”

“Aur.” He rests a hand gently against her shoulder and their pace slows. Their boots scuff the road, a cloud of dirt puffing around their feet. “What’s going on?”

His voice is calm. Firm. Steady. The kind of voice he has after she has a bad nightmare, but not quite.  

“It’s nothing, it’s…” Aureia lets out a long, sad sigh. Rielle tugs sharply on the reigns and Filo hisses in protest, jerking to a stop some feet behind. “There’s someone I must meet with when I return.”

“I see.”

“And I would… rather not.”

A pause. “I suppose the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights is a difficult man to ignore.”

“He can be, yes. Especially when you’re…” She pauses again. “Fuck. Let’s not pretend I even know what we are anymore. He asked me to marry him and I couldn’t even say yes.”

“Would it be too much to say that I am glad of that?”

“Sid—”

“Damned if I even want to know what you are to him. And I know all too well—very well, in fact—that this is not my place and not my business, but I will say what must be said if no one else will. If you need to hear it. I do not like who you have become with him. I’m sure—Temple Knight aside—he is a pleasant man in his own right. And it would be unfair to accuse him of anything malignant, I know that is not his way. And I do believe you love him, or have loved him—”

“Sid…”

“Past or present, my point still stands. You have chased something with him. Something that has brought you joy, yes, but also great sorrow. From what I have seen, from what you have told me… I believe you must become someone else to remain with him. And I do not believe you will ever be happy becoming that person. If the pair of you were in different circumstances, if you were different people…”

“If he wasn’t the Lord Commander and I wasn’t the Warrior of Light?”

He meets her eyes, his horns casting a shadow across his face in the glare of the setting sun. “If he weren’t a politician and you weren’t the Alliance’s war hound.”

She inhales sharply. “You didn’t have to put it that way.”

“Someone bloody well should have. There are a dozen places you should be rather than wandering the Gyr Abanian wilderness with a surly dark knight and a teenaged girl. A dozen people who need you more than we do. So what other reason was there for all of this, Aureia? A soul crystal cracked? Or an excuse to run?”

A pause. “I don’t think I can talk about this now,” Aureia says quietly.

Sidurgu lets out a long breath. His hand slips from her shoulder. “I’m sorry, that was… harsher than I intended.”

“Don’t be. You were only saying what you thought. And what I’ve thought for some time. Sometimes I think you’re the only person who makes any damn sense.”

“Oh, so is that why you keep finding reasons to come and find me? You’ve long since outgrown the Forgotten Knight.”

Her hand brushes his. “That’s not the only reason.”

He smiles.

Rielle yelps and tips forward, clinging to the reigns.

Filo chirrups shrilly, wings spread wide as if to catch her. She clutches the reigns and pulls herself upright just in time, her cheeks flushing red as Aureia and Sidurgu turn around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons.

“Rielle!” he calls, releasing the hold on his greatsword’s grip. “Are you all right?”

She steadies herself. “Fine!”

“Don’t test the bird. I don’t want you getting thrown out of the saddle—”

“Don’t test your wounds, Sid, I don’t want them re-opening before tomorrow at the earliest if you can help it.” She smirks, proud of herself for the quip, and nudges Filo with her heels. He trots forward, giving the pair a smug look as he trots by. “Let’s go to that inn, shall we? If I deserve a bed for the night, then Filo deserves a stable, don’t you think?”

Sidurgu and Aureia exchange looks, both of them trying very hard not to laugh.

Grinning with triumph, Rielle tucks her hair behind her ears and leads them up the hill and down the path to the inn.  

[skywarpie]

Ratti

hey remember when i talked about that rat bringing its owner its babies and how copia would love that? yea well here’s the fic to accompany it; additional dad Copia for your enjoyment.

AO3 link  881 Words. 

Copia hums under his breath as he readjusts the tiny bundle that’s nestled in his arms. He’s never really had much experience when it comes to babies. Granted he always seems to have the magic touch, something that the mothers of the ministry see fit to exploit when their babies won’t stop crying. Once in his arms they always seem to settle and Copia assumes that’s probably a good thing because it’s at least given him a little practice with tiny humans. Not that he minds, there’s always something comforting about holding a baby, at least to him. That and he’s always a little sad to see them go when their parents deem it suitable to reclaim them.

This one is different though. This baby is his and he never has to put her down (even though his Prime Mover insists that the infant doesn’t need to be held at every waking moment, Copia digresses). 

Truthfully speaking, being a father isn’t something that Copia ever thought was in his cards. Every time he’s seemed to get ahead in his life, something has come around to knock him back down three notches. It only made sense that he’d probably never have a family of his own. Good things were rare and in between for him. 

It seemed his luck had changed for the better though once he was elevated to Papa. Not that he was complaining. In his opinion, Copia could care less about the title as long as he got to keep his tiny family. 

The bundle in his arms shifts and lets out a soft coo as she scratches her tiny face.

“Ah, la mia bambina!” His voice is soft but it’s easy to hear the ever growing panic in Copia’s voice. He nudges the pink blanket away from the baby’s face, gently grabbing her tiny hand before she can scratch her face by accident. His Prime Mover says he’s more anxious than them, which theoretically isn’t wrong. The whole first week the baby had been in the world, he’d diligently sat closely, listening to her breathing to ensure it was normal and there were no hiccups. A bit of overkill probably, but he couldn’t help it. Copia has spent a lifetime having things he’s loved or enjoyed ripped from him.

The baby grunts her frustration but settles back down with a yawn, causing a large goofy smile to stretch across Copia’s face. 

There’s a light scratching sound that catches his attention, his eyes raising to look off to the corner of his desk. A tiny fawn rat comes scurrying up the side of his work station, trotting all the way over. The rat stops once it’s in front of him and it drops the tiny blob that it’s been carrying. The rat looks up to him expectantly, its tiny eyes blinking rapidly.

“Tagliatelle!” Copia does his best to keep his voice low. “Where have you been, ragazza matta?” He smiles, his eyes catching on the tiny bundle moving on his desk. An even wider grin paints his face, it stretches all the way to his eyes, signifying his joy. “La ragazza disubbidiente.” Copia scoops the baby rodent up from his desk top, holding it like it’s made of fine glass. “I guess this answers my question, eh?”

As if in response the rodent takes off, only to return a few seconds later with another baby, then another, and another. She repeats this until there are a total of eight rat pups situated on Copia’s desk. “I suppose congratulazioni are in order.” He laughs, delighted. 

Tagliatelle makes a fuss of moving her tiny babies when they start to get too far away from her, going so far as to pluck one by its middle section and place it back in her reach. 

“Oh!” It’s as if the thought has just dawned on him. “If we are showing off babies, it is only fair I share mine with you, eh?” Carefully he maneuvers his arms until the baby’s face is in clear view of the rat. 

The rodent scurries over, her nose twitching as she sniffs at the tiny face wrapped in blankets. Her whiskers tickle the small face, resulting in a delighted coo and grin. 

Copia’s eyebrows raise high enough that they could reach his hairline. “She likes you!” It’s a bit louder than he wanted it to be. The infant in his arms letting him know with a frustrated cry. A sorry expression settles on his face as he looks back to the rat. “She likes you.” He whispers it this time, as if the rodent didn’t just hear his delighted outburst.

Tagliatelle spends a moment more smelling along the baby's face before she turns and makes her way back to her own babies. She snatches one by the scruff as it gets too close to the edge and drags it back to the pile to be with its siblings.

The goofy smile he’s been wearing still rests on Copia’s face. As if he already couldn’t love his child any more, her reaction, though most would chalk up to being a baby's reflexes, to his rodent makes his heart swell even more. Yes, he has spent a lifetime losing things he holds dear, but this time will be different.

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

Tagliatelle - Noodles ragazza matta - Crazy girl La ragazza disubbidiente - Naughty girl congratulazioni - congratulations

[lipglossanon]

OMG MY TUMBLR KEEPS CRASHING WHILE IM TRYING TO TYPE THIS OUT RAAHHHH anyways, i saw this edit earlier of a re4r mod that like, adjusts the camera and so there’s this one clip where u can see leon just straight up manspreading and it was so hot HES SO HOT i just wna sit on his lap and cockwarm the shit outta him, you feel me?

and ofc this is gna turn into another thirst for stepbro leon bc why else wld i be here 🤭 i just imagine like, leon trying to study for college exams or smth and reader is laying on his bed, scrolling on her phone, bored out of her mind before suddenly feeling that familiar neediness springing up when she looks over at leon, sat at his desk, studying his books and notes, man spreading a lil in his chair and looking so studious, and asks, “leon..can you take a break? i need you” she says while pouting but only gets a, “no, sweetheart, i’m sorry, but finals are coming up” (this just reminded me that i have finals coming up too NOOOO💔💔💔) and ofc she’s whining and making somewhat of a fuss abt it but is just getting ignored by him which slightly annoys her before she tosses her phone aside and gets him, crawling under his arms and sitting in his lap. at this point, leon just lets her do it since she isn’t really doing much. right? WRONG. she starts to quietly whine in his ear, talking abt how much she needs him and it gets to the point that it’s annoying him that he eventually grabs her by her throat with a mean glare and a slight squeeze

“you wanna be a needy slut, huh? want my cock so bad?”

and she just nods eagerly, thinking she finally got her way as he pulls his pants down, pulls her shorts and panties down to just hang off her ankle before sliding his cock into her already soaking wet hole before cooing at her with mock sympathy, “there, happy?” but she’s just too cockdrunk to pick up on it as she nods and tries to move against him, but before she can even move so much as an inch, he’s holding her hips harshly and bruises are probably going to show up later

“you have my cock, now be a good girl and sit still, or you won’t get anything”

and she’s on the verge of crying out about how unfair he’s being before she sees the look in his eyes, as if daring her to disobey him before she meekly nods and tries her best to not move around as leon goes back to studying, thrusting up occasionally just to get a little reaction out of her before going completely still again

😵‍💫😵‍💫 brainrot, SORRY IF ITS NOT GOOD I AM NOT A WRITER😓😓 i was also having thoughts abt exec!leon fucking virgin!reader bc i can not get that one part of the fic outta my head..but that’s gna hv to wait for another time bc i hv a 5 page rough draft to write for my writing class tomorrow😀😀👍

-🪷

🪷 anon, never apologize for writing because you’re brain has beautiful thoughts 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 (and like a link to that mod vid—for scientific purposes of course 😌 😜 )

And you wanna know what’s insane?? I’m literally in the middle of writing a cockwarming fic for stepdad Leon 😱 so surprise I guess *jazz hands* 😜

But oof Stepbro Leon making her sit there while he studies for finals 🥴 🥴 I’m gonna have to take this and add it to my list (which is predominantly Stepbro Leon; he got everyone in a chokehold 🤤)

Haha no worries!! Thank you for sharing cause that’s so hot like it’s not even funny 🥵 🥵 and exec Leon is way more popular than I thought he’d be (very pleasantly surprised! 💜) and good luck with your rough draft!!! 💕

[doppotranslations]

Alcohol, Sakura and Kangaroo ~Cherry Blossom Evening Stroll~ - Part 1

===============================

Hypmic ARB in-game event story (Doppo, Hifumi, Jyuto), Rio, Rei, Hitoya

Recording Link: https://youtu.be/u9RnJaY2gfI (in case you wanna read along with the in-game voice lines and sound effects :D)

===============================

Chapter 1

[At the Police Station]

Jyuto: I deeply apologize…

Detective: Hey now… Iruma-san, you're going to have to assume responsibility for that case…

Jyuto: Be more careful in the future, for my sake as well......

Rio: ……

Jyuto: Well then, I’ll be off…...

[Outside]

Jyuto: *lights a cigarette* Phew… that whole debacle from before was solved thanks to Samatoki… Rio, why did it have to be in Shinjuku......?

Rio: How many times do I have to say it? I came here to look for a kangaroo.

Jyuto: …... what I meant was that I don’t get your reasoning at all, so why did you have to drag me into this? If I didn’t know you, I’d probably end up interrogating you too. Furthermore, what is it about this wallaby that would make it worth being taken in by the police for…... 

Rio: It’s not a wallaby, it’s a kangaroo.

Jyuto: *sighs* …... I don’t care which one it is…...

Rio: Getting accurate information about this is important.

Jyuto: If there really was a kangaroo in this city, there would immediately be a fuss about it. Don't you think so too?

Rio: In that case even I’d find out about it, wouldn’t I?

Jyuto: *sighs*...... That’s right…...

Rio: Though it’s true that I have brought you trouble. Jyuto, I apologize.

Jyuto: Don’t worry about it. What are friends for after all…... it was a cheap arrest too. After all, it was all thanks to that idiot Samatoki being used to getting people out of trouble.

Rio: Right.

Jyuto: Well, what do you say? Since we ended up in Shinjuku and all, shall we go drinking in this golden city?

Rio: Hm…... I would love to join you, but I must look for that kangaroo.

Jyuto: …...and if you happened to find it, what would you do?

Rio: That’s a weird thing to ask. I’d make a meal out of it, of course.

Jyuto: I see…

Rio: Kangaroos…... Their meat is easy to cook and delicious. There surely must be a stray kangaroo somewhere around Japan…...

Jyuto: …...just please don’t get arrested again.

Rio: Got it. Well then, I’ll be off.

Jyuto: Then…... guess I’ll be drinking alone, huh?

[At a Temple]

Doppo: (Aah…... The manager of the company I was doing business with today…... was so cruel…... What do you mean by “You look like you’re emanating an aura of misery so much so that it’s annoying. If you let me slap you, I’ll buy what you’re selling.” W-well,  it can't be helped. If it’s for the sake of my company, I’ll take the hit… but if it’s just one hit I promised, why do you have to go all in… What do you mean “I was only joking when I said I’d buy it!”...) Fuck……………………………………… Fuck fuck……………………………………… Fuck fuck fuck……………………………………… FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKING HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL!!

???: Wait…...

Doppo: THIS IS BULLSHIT! EVEN THOUGH HE SLAPPED ME!! THAT ASSHOLE STILL DIDN’T FUCKING GIVE ANYTHING IN RETURN!!! IT’S TOO MUCH, MAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!

???: You over there!

Doppo: HYAH, HYAAAH!!!

Jyuto: I was thinking some idiot was screaming around here, but it was just you, Kannonzaka-san.

Doppo: I-Iruma-san… A-are you by any chance here to arrest me for being so loud…? I was being a bother, wasn’t I?

Jyuto: I’m not really impressed by the screaming, but I’m not gonna arrest you either.

Doppo: I-I’m glad…

Jyuto: By the way, Kannonzaka-san.

Doppo: Yes?

Jyuto: You seem to be feeling pretty stressed about something, don’t you? So, how about I treat you to a drink.

Doppo: Sounds great! Let’s go!

Chapter 2

[At Hifumi’s host club]

Hifumi: …...Um? What the?

Host A: Old man! Quit being so arrogant! The table isn’t a foot stool!

Host B: What the hell do you want!?

Rei: Right, sorry for that. Looks like our precious prince charming here is pretty rotten.

Host C: Asshole…... are you messing with us…...?

Rei: *lights a cigarette* It’s pretty fun being a wild guy with a temper, you know?

Host A: Ah?

Rei: If you would give me the favor of getting involved, then I would say we’re about to have a pretty fun twist.

Host A: You bastard…...

Hifumi: That’s enough!

Host A: H-Hifumi-san!

Hifumi: You guys, what do you think you’re doing acting like that in the host club? As usual, you’re supposed to behave elegantly here.

Host A: M-my apologies!

Rei: Oh, at last mister number one showed his face, huh?

Hifumi: Huh? You’re Osaka’s… Why are you here?

Rei: I’m here to collect some debts.

Hifumi: Why are you doing that…?

Rei: It’s something I simply cannot turn down. You see, I am a pretty influential person of the nightlife in Kabuki.

Hifumi: …...really? You talk about needing to collect debts, but I don’t think there’s anything to collect from here, is there? 

Rei: That’s right…...

Hifumi: Then why did you come here?

Rei: See the chick in this photo? Ya get it now?

Hifumi: That woman…... Some time ago, she was a guest here and requested me…... What’s the matter with her?

Rei: She’s been messing around at this host club with borrowed money. And…...

Hifumi: She ran away because she couldn’t pay it back…...?

Rei: You got it. I came here to ask you if you know about the whereabouts of that hoe.

Hifumi: I know nothing about it…... And even if I did, I would not be able to share any information about my beloved clients.

Rei: Heh…... Well, since you say you don’t know anything, should I ask you what the truth is by force?

Hifumi: ……

Rei: Hahaha! Juuuust kidding! Lil’ old me only does such unreasonable things on special ocassions.

Hifumi: What do you plan to do if you find her…...?

Rei: Ummm. Let’s see… if she pays back the money it’s all good, but if she doesn’t…... ya dig?

Hifumi: !

Rei: Hey, don’t look at me like that! I don’t want to come face to face with a young woman that has a bright future about something like this either, you know. Though rules can’t be broken no matter how much you complain about it. Since you work at a place like this you get it, don’t you?

Hifumi: …...Yeah.

Rei: I mean, it would be good for you too if she paid up since she’s got a tab to pay for you, right?

Hifumi: …...I forbid my customers from putting their payments on a tab.

Rei: Heh...... that’s uncommon.

Hifumi: It’s because we don’t want problems like this with debt.

Rei: Nonsense. Well then, looks like I gotta bounce.

Hifumi: Wait a second…...

Rei: What’s up?

Hifumi: I simply cannot let this go by, having a woman I know be met with mean eyes. I will go too.

Rei: You’re coming to do what exactly?

Hifumi: Once we find her I shall scold her.

Rei: Scold…... huh? Haha, sounds fun. ‘s all good then. Come.

Hifumi: ……

Chapter 3

[Out in the city at night]

Hitoya: (*sighs*... The Supreme Court is so tiring…...) It’s still early, I could probably get a drink and go home...... (How about viewing the sakura trees while having a drink? Maybe I could find a nice place for that, huh.) Oh, right, Shinjuku Central Park is right around the corner. I’ll get going.

[At the park]

Hitoya: Woah…... this is pretty impressive, huh… Since I bought both a drink and something to eat, I can enjoy the evening in peace over here. *opens his drink* Gulp… gulp… gulp… Pwaah~. Having a drink after work is simply exceptional. (When I’m in Nagoya either Kuko or Jyushi always find a way to destroy my peace and quiet…... That’s why, I’ll make use of this alone time while I’m here.) …...This park seems to be pretty big and all, so I’ll go for a little walk around here.

[Somewhere else in the park]

Rio: According to the intel I gathered, that thing is lurking inside this park...… as expected…...

???: Gwooo… Gwooo… Gwooo…

Rio: Mm? That sound is…

Kangaroo: Gwooo… Gwooo… Gwooo…

Rio: Just as I thought, the information seems to not have been wrong… Goddamn…...

Kangaroo: !?

Rio: Kh…!

[Somewhere else in the park]

Hitoya: Gulp… Gulp… Canned beer around the sakura blossoms at night… This is just the best, isn’t it? A night like this would make even cheap alcohol feel luxurious.

Kangaroo: Gwooo… Gwooo… Gwooo…

Hitoya: Hm? What was that sound…?

Kangaroo: Gwooo gwooo gwooo!

Hitoya: Wha!? A k-kangaroo!!????? Why is there a kangaroo in a place like this…...

???: Mm!!

Hitoya: Huh…? *gets hit and everything turns black* Gwah!

???: Guh!

Hitoya: *gets up* That hurts, man…

Rio: …...I apologize. I was in a hurry.

Hitoya: Right…... huh, you’re from Yokohama Division?

Rio: And you’re from Nagoya Division…?

Hitoya: What are you doing in a place like this?

Rio: I was chasing a kangaroo.

Hitoya: Chasing a kangaroo, you say… The hell kinda joke is this?

Rio: Looks like it completely got away…I know this is an embarrassing request to make but…...

Hitoya: …What is it?

Rio: Could you do me the favor of helping me catch that thing?

Hitoya: Why me… is what I would normally say, but I bumped into you and got in the way and all, so fine. I’ll help out.

Rio: …Thank you!

Hitoya: Was that kangaroo your pet or something?

Rio: No, it’s my food.

Hitoya: ???????????????????????????

Chapter 4

[Out in the city at night]

Hifumi: Is this the place?

Rei: According to what I was told, yeah. 

Hifumi: *tries to go in*

Rei: Wait a second.

Hifumi: Why…?

Rei: Just to be sure you’ll have to stay here. We’re in this together, so in case she tries to run away you’ll have to do something about it.

Hifumi: Got it…

Rei: Good, I’ll get going then.

[Inside the club]

Hifumi’s Former Client: I’ll have another drink, please~

Host: Which one would you like?

Hifumi’s Former Client: Open the bottle of Golden Dom Perignon~

Host: Really? A glass of Golden Dom Perignon then…

Rei: That order is canceled.

Hifumi’s Former Client: Huh? Who the hell are you…?

Rei: Who I am? Let’s see…

Host: That’s right, what’s with this jerk…?

Rei: Sorry to be a disturbance, but this young lady’s and Romeo’s little affair will have to wait. ‘Cause you see… I am a scary old man.

Host: Do you want to have your ass kicked…?

Rei: Haha! I like being threatened, lil old me is happy to hear that, you know?

Host: Hey…!

Manager: S-stop that…

Host: What was that?

Manager: Don’t you go yelling at that man!

Host: Is there a reason for that? The way we earn money here is by selling lots of drinks, you know?

Manager: That’s enough…! That man is Amayado-san and is one of the people who works in the shadows in this neighborhood.

Host: I-...i-in the shadows…?

Manager: Keep bothering him and our store will surely be shut down…

Host: R-really…?

Rei: Huh? You’re not gonna kick my ass anymore?

Host: A-ahaha…

Manager: P-please… enjoy your stay…

Rei: Oh, really? I’ll make sure to take my time then. *turns to the girl* Yo, sorry to have kept you waiting.

Hifumi’s Former Client: W-what do you want…?

Rei: What do I want…? You see, the reason a scary old man like me came here is… something you should know about as well, right?

Hifumi’s Former Client: ……

Rei: Oi oi… Don’t make me look like the bad guy here. Got it?

Manager: H-he’s talking about…...

Rei: You’ve got a debt to pay, so if you give me the favor of paying up right away nothing bad is gonna happen.

Hifumi’s Former Client: !!! *gets up*

Rei: !!

Host: Uwah!

Hifumi’s Former Client: *runs away*

Rei: *sighs* …What a pain in the ass…...

Hifumi’s Former Client: *pants*

Hifumi: You…...

Hifumi’s Former Client: H-Hifumi…...!

Hifumi: Why…...

Hifumi’s Former Client: !! *runs away*

Hifumi: Agh…...

Rei: Hey! Stop zoning out and let’s chase her!

Hifumi: ...…right.

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 14

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

**********************************************************

Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

mild threats

Gaslighting!!

new kinks unlocked lol

some(??) angst??

Mentions of ED/body/eating issues if u squint

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 14: A Festivity and A Fight

“Lady Death,” you bow your head in greeting before flashing a smile that matches hers. Her warmth is infectious, and despite your creator’s gloomy demeanour, her presence alone brightened up the otherwise dreary office that rarely ever saw occupants. “It’s a pleasure and honour to meet you. You’re even more radiant as they say in person.”

Now completely ignoring her brother who’s openly scowling behind her, Lady Death waves off your praise with a light chuckle. “Never mind me, look at you, you’re beautiful! I came to congratulate you on your coronation.”

“Thank you, my Lady. It’d be a privilege to have you as an honoured guest at the party,” you say excitedly. You’ve heard a lot about the kind Endless, so having a friendly face among the crowd of unfamiliar royalty would be a huge reprieve for you.

But her smile turns apologetic, and as she’s about to open her mouth to respond, however, your Dream Lord interjects on her behalf.

“As much as we’d like to have her join the festivity, my dream, my sister is quite the busy Endless. The invitation, however, still remains,” he declares with a somewhat dismissive tone as he makes his approach, maintaining eye contact with his elder sister.

Lad Death simply raises her eyebrows at him, before turning back to you to confirm her brother’s statement. “He’s right, unfortunately. I only came here to have a small chat with my little brother about an important matter,” she says apologetically while she takes both of your hands in hers. “And of course, to send my well-wishes to his precious princess-to-be. I’m really sorry, Mera, but I’ll come by another time and we’ll have our own talk, I promise.”

She lets go of your hands and steps out the door. With one final pointed look at her brother and a warning tone, she declares, “Dream, this discussion isn’t over.”

***

“Morwyn, isn’t this a little too heavy?”

You’re seated right in front of a vanity in your quarters, staring at yourself in the ornate mirror. The attendant in question, currently fussing over the dress you’re supposed to wear for the ceremony, had applied the makeup on your face and in your humble opinion, the lipstick she applied was a little too red for your liking, and it reminded you a little too well of the shade your creator fancies so much.

Maybe that’s why she chose the shade for you.

After your brief meeting with Lady Death a while ago, the Dream Lord had lightly admonished you for helping out instead of preparing for the big celebration, but in the end, praised you for your efforts in welcoming the guests on his behalf. With a kiss he was reluctant to cut short, he used his sand to transport you to your quarters, where Morwyn was waiting for you, along with a warm bath, the dress he wanted you to wear and everything else you needed to get ready.

Morwyn spares you a glance from the dress she’s busy inspecting. “What are you talking about m’lady? You look absolutely beautiful,” she says with a kind smile. “Besides, it was the only shade on the vanity. His majesty really likes red, doesn’t he?”

Yes, he does.

“The weird thing is he never wears the colour, except for the ruby, but I haven’t seen that on him in a long time…Oh, and I guess you won’t be wearing your headdress, now that he’s going to give you a different one and all that…”

While Morwyn mutters to herself, you make the last-minute adjustments to your hair and makeup, then with her assistance, start putting on the dress. It’s the most luxurious gown you have worn yet, with its strapless, sweetheart bodice made of the finest silk and tons of tulle cascading from the waist past your feet, trailing down the floor, all in an admittedly luxurious shade of currant. It’s also the most burdensome so far, for every inch of the gown is covered with tiny slivers of intricately-cut rubies that glittered at every angle. A gown that only princesses could dream of, and it fits you like a glove.

Just as Morwyn was fastening the last ribbon at the back of the dress, you both hear a soft knock on the door. You King enters without waiting for a response, and once his eyes land on you, he never veers his gaze away.

You get a glimpse of your Dream Lord’s form and fight the chance to openly gape: he had forgone his usual garb in favour of a billowing robe made of the richest brocade in his preferred midnight shade, and underneath it, he wears a sleek, double-breasted suit of the same colour, and around his neck is a ruby he has fashioned in the same likeness as the one his adversary had destroyed, presumably to subtly match your outfit. With his hair combed back compared to its normally unkempt state, he looks every bit like the majestic King he is, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him either.

“Morwyn, leave us.”

You mutter a soft ‘thank you’ at her as she bows before you both, then steps out of the room, leaving you both alone.

He seems to recognize the effect he has on you and puts on a sly grin as he closes in on you at a steady pace.

“Your beauty transcends space and time, my Mera,” he compliments, stopping mere inches away from you. He dips his head closer, fanning your face with his warm breath, as he strokes your cheek with his forefinger.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you return the favour, stammering, “Y-you look quite, uh, dashing yourself, my Lord.”

With his grin growing wider, he remarks, “Today, you shall kneel before me, as you have done many times within the confines of our shared chambers, but this time for a different reason: I shall crown you and you will take your eternal place beside me.”  He then pushes you against the wall without warning and encases you in a searing kiss. It isn’t long before the kiss turns more heated, with his lips trailing down from your jaw to settle on suckling and biting on a spot on your neck, a spot that would alarmingly be visible to anyone and everyone who would lay their eyes on you, given how much skin the gown is revealing.

With a tiny squeal, you protest, “My Lord, please, they’re going to see –”

“And I intend to let them,” he cuts you off, whispering hotly against the reddened skin. “Everyone attending will then know that the princess-consort is off-limits except only for the King of Dreams.” He then turns you around and continues marking you, this time on a spot on your back near your left shoulder, all while pinning you to the wall with his hands on your hips to hold you in place. With a final graze of his lips on your shoulder, he caresses his way upwards to your neck and breathes against your ear, “I have a half mind of taking you against this wall until you’re dripping with my seed…”

But before you could object, he adds, “But I wouldn’t want my dream to appear exhausted even before the festivities begin, and I know how…rough our love-making can be.”

You release a sigh of relief as he backs away from you, and you turn around to face him. He still has that smirk on his face, maintaining eye contact as he wipes away the residue of your ruined lipstick with his thumb.

“We should go. The ceremony will begin momentarily.”

He just stares in mild amusement as you make your way to the vanity to reapply your lipstick, straighten your gown and fix your hair, even though you know it will all be ruined by tonight, as he’ll likely have his way with you anyway.

***

The ceremony went rather smoothly, thanks to the entire palace staff doing their best to keep the guests, and ultimately, their Dream King, happy.

The venue where the celebration was held was a completely new addition to the Dreaming. In honour of your ascent to a royal post, your creator had crafted a sweeping garden within the palace grounds just for the occasion. Surrounded by well-trimmed bushes and small trees blooming with flowers of varying shades and sorts at all corners and lined with marble flooring, he had encased it entirely in a glass dome made of iridescent panels, allowing the sunshine to stream through in all colours in the spectrum for the naked eye to marvel at. He had created this elaborate outdoor ballroom a mere two weeks ago to allow the staff to make the preparations in advance, but not before showing it to you - he had even kissed you on the elevated platform at the far end where he and you will be seated.

It was clear to you at that point that he was trying to win you over with such lavish gestures.

When Lucienne announced the arrival of the King of Dreams and his new princess-consort, everyone in attendance stood to their feet and fell into a hush. When you both made your entrance, everyone’s eyes were on both of you as you made your way to the stage where a large, bejewelled throne, and a smaller but equally decorated one beside it, were placed behind a long table. He had insisted on marching with your arm linked in his, for which you felt grateful – on top of trying hard not to fall flat on your face in your heels, the eyes openly gaping at you made you feel even more nervous, so you clung onto him for support. When you reach the platform, he commanded you on your knees, declared before the entire Dreaming your official title, and promptly crowned you with a small, golden tiara he fashioned with his sand on the spot, decorated in the middle with a single, large ruby (to the audience’s collective gasp of awe). Holding out his hand, he instructed you to take it and get on your feet, and the entire dome bowed their heads, and with a gesture of his palm, they erupted in deafening applause, welcoming the first, and the only princess-consort to their king.

Your Dream Lord then guided you to your place beside him before seating on his throne and gave the order for the feast to begin.

Needless to say, the food was incomparable to anything you’ve ever had, courtesy of the palace chefs and Taramis’s crew, and the music was divine, as your Dream Lord managed to invite a band of talented musicians, some of them humans in their dreams, to play for the guests. Eventually, when the booze started kicking in, Lucienne finally gave the word for the dancing to begin; the Dream Lord, after all, isn’t known for dancing, and it seems like it was enough for him to stay seated on his throne, with his hand intertwined in yours, and watch in mild amusement as his guests and subjects made merry in your name. Shortly after, he stood, urging you to come with him, and asked if you could go around with him to exchange a few words with some of the guests.

***

“...you teach history? That is fascinating, given you’ve been there to witness it all,” you remark lightly before you sip your wine.

Hob Gadling chuckles as he finishes the last spoonful of his cherry trifle. You and your Dream Lord, sitting across you both watching you interact, had joined him at his table shortly after you had finished speaking with some of his notable guests – royals and leaders from other realms across the universe. Your king had invited his centuries-long immortal friend in person and had transported his physical body to the Dreaming realm just so he could meet you. And so far, he’s been an absolute treasure.

“Well, all those years’d be a waste if I didn’t. Enough about me though. I’ve got to leave in about –” Hob glances at his watch – “Ten minutes. Class. So,” he pauses deliberately, motioning between you and your master with a finger. “I have to know how this happened. I mean, you’re very attractive, and he’s a king, sure, but it’s not like he’s the most charming one on the block.”

You try stifling your laugh with your palm, but it only intensifies due to the unamused stare he gets from your Dream Lord.

Laughing with you, Hob continues, “What did he do, trap you into it or something? Because that’s the only way –”

“Hob Gadling. Don’t you have a class to attend?” Your Dream Lord flatly chimes in, clearly not liking the direction of the conversation. He rises to his feet with a stiff posture, which Hob follows with an exasperated eye-roll.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mera,” says with a warm smile and gives you a one-armed hug. Discreetly, he whispers against your ear so your Dream Lord doesn’t hear, “Is he still an ass?”

“Always,” you reply secretly in the softest of tones, before adding loudly so he doesn’t suspect a thing, “The pleasure is all mine, Hob. Do drop by again when you can.”

You watch them both as they stroll out of the dome, still feeling slightly amused with your exchange. Once you’re left alone at the table, you let out a huff, watching everyone on the dance floor have the time of their lives. Food and drink are still plenty, the kitchens made sure of that, and while you didn’t have that much of an appetite a while ago sitting beside your king, all that small talk depleted your rapidly decreasing social battery, so reach for Hob’s leftover dessert plate which he had barely touched due to his abrupt departure.

“So, Dream finally left with his boyfriend, huh?”

You whip your head around to see who had just spoken sarcastically to find round sunglasses dark as night, slick, blonde hair and a lopsided grin.

“Hello, Corinthian,” you greet the nightmare as he settles down on the empty seat beside you. “And I never thought I’d hear ‘Dream’ and ‘boyfriend’ in a sentence together.”

Leaning back on his chair and crossing his legs in a laid-back fashion, he grins wider and comments, “Do I sense a hint of jealousy? I don’t think it suits you, my lady.”

For the first time in the day, you don’t try stifling your giggles – finally, a company with whom you don’t have to mind your posture or language. Slouching in your chair, you chide him, “Don’t call me that. And no, I’m not jealous. In fact, I hope he runs away with him and never comes back.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises sardonically. “Now that you’ve finally dropped the royal act, we can for once have a conversation without all that empty polite drivel.”

“Ugh, I know. When did he…bring you back?”

The nightmare nonchalantly reaches for a cupcake from your dessert platter and takes a bite, and replies, “Several months ago, I think. I’ve lost track of time. No offence, but this party is a total bore.”

Shrugging, you find yourself agreeing with him. “Compared to your usual scene, it is rather tame. How was it?”

“The Darkness?” He pauses thoughtfully as he crumples the cupcake liner. “It’s non-existence, how bad can it be? You should try it sometime,” he says jokingly with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Then again, there’s him. He’s still the same piece of shit, isn’t he?”

“I guess change can be difficult for the Endless,” you remark soberly. “Anyway, what have you been up to?”

“Come to the dreams and I’ll show you.” He sneaks two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and hands one over to you.

After a nod of ‘thanks,’ you take a huge swig from the glass and try to jest, “And what, watch you chase down some poor bloke and eat his eyeballs out of a toothpick? Yeah, I wish. Even if I wanted to…” your sentence trails off, but, perceptive as ever, he immediately gets your meaning.

“He took your abilities away. No fucking way,” he concludes to himself disbelievingly. “Shit. Uh-oh.” Singing to the tune of ‘Here comes the Bride’, he hums, “Here comes the prick, all dressed in –”

“‘Black’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘prick,’ though,” you cut in, looking in the same direction he’s eyeing. True enough, you spot your Dream Lord approaching in long strides, his gaze locked in on you.

With a chortle, the Corinthian drawls out, “Well, if there’s anything you can get out of this ‘arrangement,’ it has to be the sex. I bet he fucks real hard.”

You pelt him in annoyance with a chunk of the chocolate-dipped pretzel you were about to nibble on, which he dodges with a snort of laughter. “Shut up, here he comes, act normal.” 

When the Dream King reaches the table he left you in, he has his normal, stoic mask, but he addresses you both with a suspicious tone. “My Dream. Corinthian.”

“Hello, your majesty,” Dream’s perfect nightmare greets with a sneer. “Forgive me if I leave the festivities early, I have a dreamer to torment.” Getting up from his seat, he turns to you with an equally satirical tone. “By your leave, my lady?”

You roll your eyes at him and scoff, “Fine. Do come by for tea so we can catch up,” you say with a smirk.

He dramatically places a hand over his heart, exclaiming in mock surprise, “Are you asking me, a nightmare, on a date, my lady?”

But Dream is clearly having none of his nightmare’s antics. He says warningly, “Corinthian –”

“Alright, alright,” Corinthian mutters with his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat. “Jeez, can’t take a fucking joke…”

With a final wave, he takes off from the dome while you watch his back the entire time, wondering what it’s like to finally exit and be free from all this drag.

Your king wordlessly takes the seat he left. An uncomfortable silence passes between the two of you, with you fidgeting with a mildly interesting chunk of ruby on your dress as he stares at you like he’s struggling to say something. Finally breaking the silence after a few moments, he says, “Your dynamic with the Corinthian –”

“He’s a friend, my Lord,” you couldn’t help interrupting him, knowing very well what he meant. He can’t control even the people you choose to talk to, can he? “Won’t your subjects find it odd that I don’t have any, save Lucienne?”

He purses his lips in acquiescence, but of course, he has to have the final word, as always. “Indeed, but I must ask you to tread carefully. I may have righted his flaws, but he is still a nightmare.”

At least he still has his dream-forming abilities, comes a retort in your head that you hold back, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere. Instead, you respond with, “May I be excused, my Lord?”

You find his presence to be stifling, so when he nods imperceptibly with his jaw clenched, you immediately give him a tiny curtsy and turn away, intending to hide and sulk behind one of the bushes at the corner to have a moment to yourself. Instead, a tiny force collides with your midriff, temporarily knocking the wind out of you.

“Princess, I’m so happy to see you!”

Ethan the Knight, Vanquisher of Dragons and Commander of Legions, has somehow made it to your party in his dreams and is currently hugging you with a strength a six-year-old isn’t supposed to have. Once he lets go of you, he flashes you with the biggest, brightest smile he could muster.

“Ethan! You found me again,” you say delightedly. The last time you met him, your time had been unfortunately cut off and you were unable to complete his dream, so seeing him this happy just warms your heart. You squat before him to match his height ignoring the fact that you were wearing heels. “I’m happy to see you, too! And I see you’ve brought your friends along,” you say, acknowledging the two other children behind him whispering to themselves. The boy mutters to Ethan, who had eyes only on you, “Is she really a princess?”

The little girl beside him whispers back, “Yes she is, dummy, can’t you see her crown?”

“Hello, you two! Are you enjoying the party?”

Both of them blush cutely at the same time at the attention you’re giving, but they both answer in unison, “Yes, your highness!”

“Although we didn’t get cake,” Ethan mumbles with an adorable pout. “And what’s he doing here?” he complains, pointing at your Dream Lord behind you, sitting on his table, watching the exchange with sharp eyes.

“Ah, well, he’s the twin of the evil king you see,” you answer carefully. “He rescued me from the tower. And you see that man over there with the fancy moustache?” you motion to Taramis serving one of the royal guests. “He can get you as much cake as you can eat. Go, and tell him I sent you.”

With a squeal of ‘thanks,’ he runs off to the head waiter, and the other boy follows along. The little girl, however, stays in place, fidgeting at the hem of her pyjama shirt.

Turning to her, you ask gently, “What about you, young lady? What would you like? Why don't you go with the boys and get something sweet?”

She just stares at you shyly through her eyelashes and responds quietly, “I’m watching my diet, princess. Mommy says I can’t have cake ‘cause I’ll get fat and then people will laugh at me.”

You’re taken aback at the little girl’s worry, but you never take the smile off your face - what she needs right now is reassurance, and you have plenty of that to give her.

“What’s your name, young lady?”

“Carrie,” she responds timidly with a small, hesitant smile.

“Well, Carrie, you happen to be in a magical place, where the calories here don’t count,” you say with a playful wiggle of your eyebrows.

“Really? You mean I can get a strawberry shortcake and vanilla ice cream too?” she says, her eyes growing wide at the thought of her finally getting to eat her favourite desserts.

Laughing at her cute reaction, you say, “And you can even put as much caramel sauce as you’d like,”

“I love caramel! Thank you, princess!”

Slowly getting to your feet, you watch fondly as she bolts toward Ethan and the other boy who is currently being served by Taramis huge platters of dessert you know they could never wolf down. 

“You are good with them.”

Your Dream Lord had finally gotten to his feet and is now standing beside you, with his hands regally clasped together.

“I’m sorry, my Lord?” you ask with a confused expression.

He smiles at you with the softest smile he’s given you the entire day and amends, “Children. You are wonderful with them.”

Not knowing how else to respond, you choose your words cautiously. “Well, if the world treats them right, humanity might have a better chance.”

He only hums at your response with a look of deep contemplation on his face.

“My Lord, Carrie’s mother…” you plead to him, hoping he relents this time.

“I heard,” comes his short reply. “I shall have a dream look into it.”

“But I can do it if you just let me. I can fix it for her,” you beg in the softest of tones, wanting nothing at the moment but to ease the little girl’s body issues. “No child, nor anyone, deserves to be told such hurtful things.”

“This is neither the time nor the place, to discuss that matter,” he quietly castigates you with a firm look, a look that told he wanted to hear no more of it.

You hang your head, biting the insides of your cheek and wanting very much for this day to be over just so you could cry yourself to sleep in your absolute frustration.

***

You collapse on your Dream Lord’s bare chest with a sharp cry as you come on top of him, riding out your orgasm by grinding against him in soft thrusts before halting your movement altogether.

Your King had wasted no time turning your gown into sand the moment he had you to himself in his chambers after all the party guests had gone home. He had commanded that his new princess-consort fulfil her duties of pleasuring him, and tonight he had preferred you riding him out on the couch. It’s not like you had gotten used to his touches - far from it: you had only been doing his bidding because what choice did you have? He could very well send you back to the tower he had imprisoned you where he’ll likely force himself on you anyway.

He cups your face so he could kiss you fervently while his rock-hard cock, still lodged firmly inside you, pumps slowly in and out of your hole, a telltale sign that he wants more. One thing you had learned sharing his bed for the past few months is that his desire for you is insatiable and he had the stamina only an Endless had the right to possess.

But as he sucks your lower lip and squeezes your lower cheeks insistently, you find yourself getting weary of the act, and reasonably so in your opinion; you had been on four-inch heels the entire day, lugging around the heaviest gown you had ever worn in your life. You had all the reasons to be tired.

Your Dream King senses your hesitation, but that had never stopped him before, and he isn’t about to stop now. He flips you over with a growl; he makes you kneel on the sofa and cling to its backrest, while he positions himself behind you, intent on finding his release.

“My lord,” you attempt to reason. “I can’t take anymore…could we –”

“No, you can take one more, my dream.”

Feeling defeated, you brace yourself and squeeze the sofa’s backrest, letting out a whimper as he slides his hard length inside you and picks up a hard pace while he grasps your hips with both hands and brings you to him with every single thrust. Your moans and his grunts fill his chamber in no time, along with the wet, squelching sounds and the loud slapping of flesh brought about by your bodies coming together. Helplessly, you grip the back cushion shakily as he takes you with wild abandon from behind like his life depended on it. To deepen his thrusts and bring your bodies closer, he kneels on the couch and continues ploughing into you, suckling and biting down on every part of your skin his lips could reach while his hand snakes between your folds and massages your clit. By now, you’re clenching his cock uncontrollably and you’re screaming your throat hoarse - with a shriek that echoed in his chamber, your orgasm makes your vision fade to black as you let out a string of incoherent curses. Your master continues slamming hard into you before his orgasm shortly follows yours, and while you convulse beneath him he squeezes your ass to hold you still as he bites down hard on your shoulder. You could feel his warmth flood inside you, prolonging and intensifying your high.

“That’s it,” he whispers breathily against your ear. “That’s my good girl, taking all of my seed like the good, little dream you are. Take all of it.”

With a final pump and a growl, he finally stops moving within you, for which you’re thankful – you had started feeling sore right after your first orgasm from riding him. He pulls out of you, but he stays in place behind you. You expected him to carry you to the bed like he always does when you both finish anywhere else but the bed, but to your dismay, he parts your lower cheeks further. 

From behind you, he declares, “I have always enjoyed watching my seed slowly trickling down your thighs, my little dream. It’s a vision made only for me - I imagine it filling your womb with life that we created together…”

But his meaning is lost on you, for you had started concentrating on not falling into exhaustion, barely registering his words. You feel him insert two fingers into your cum-filled hole, and pump a few times before withdrawing. He manoeuvres you to face him, so with you still being straddled at the front with his thighs preventing escape, he takes your chin with his hand, forcing your mouth open, and places the fingers coated with both your juices and makes you suck on them. He maintains his intense eye contact, watching hungrily as you suckle his fingers clean, your eyes swimming in tears of embarrassment. He slowly pulls his hand away, and with a tone of praise, he says, “You’ve done well, my dream.”

“And you have been doing well for the past months.” His grip on your chin becomes more gentle, as is his tone. “In honour of your exceptional performance, I shall grant you a boon. A gift.”

“My Lord, may I speak freely?”

“Yes, you may.”

You swallow nervously, already aware that he might not like what you have in mind.

“Then, give me back my ability to form dreams. Please.”

You watch as your King freezes at your request. Your heartbeat quickens as you peer into his darkening gaze - at last, he pulls away from you completely and walks away, effectively changing the atmosphere in the room.

“I don’t understand, my Lord,” you start, getting to your feet and grabbing a bathrobe that he had conjured out of thin air for you. “You asked, and gave me permission to speak my mind. I have told you what I wish. Take that as you may.”

“And you know my answer,” he speaks through clenched teeth. He faces you with a face contorted in a quiet rage he’s trying to reel in as he puts on his jet-black cloak, his eyes now close to matching the colour of his robes. “Have I not given you enough? Do you find my Kingdom wanting, so much as to desire the company of humans?”

“No, that’s not what I meant –”

“Or is it my company you find inadequate?” he growls lowly, his fists balling and quivering in his attempt to control his emotions. “If you’re not content with what I have so generously provided, shall I teach you a lesson once more –”

“If you could please, just listen to me for a damn second –”

“Shall I take it all away? Shall I send you back to the tower, and hope you could, at last, see that I have done my very best to keep you happy in my realm?” His fury is now emanating from him in waves of black smoke, his sand circling you threateningly.

But this display of power doesn’t strike fear in you. If anything, you grow more confused - had he not asked for what you wanted? He had seen with his own eyes how you had deteriorated in your isolation at the tower he’s imprisoned you, and now he’s contemplating sending you back there, just because you had answered his question?

“That’s your solution?” your response comes in a whisper full of conflicted feelings – you’re perplexed, disappointed, hurt – and your voice trembles in its gravity. “You’re willing to put me through that hellish ordeal again just because you didn’t like what you heard?”

But if he’s moved with your words and the way your tears pool at the corner of your eyes, he doesn’t show it. “Stand down, little dream – you forget your place.”

“No,” you say, wiping your tears away with force. “No, I will not! Will that be your solution every time I make a move that offends you? I have done everything you asked just so I could please you, but am I to walk on eggshells around you for eternity? You’re really willing to inflict pain on me that much just to drive a point?”

Your questions seem to strike a chord with the Endless before you, for he hesitates for a fraction of a second. “My dream, that’s not true –”

“You had promised me before that you’d never take my abilities away because you claim it was a part of me. So, congratulations, my Lord, for erasing that part of my identity.”

If he had responded to your soft emotional outburst, you never got around to hearing it – at that point, you promptly exit his chambers, slamming his door closed behind you, and run into yours. Just like you did over a century ago, you barricade the door with the couch and cry yourself to sleep, not understanding what or why you’re feeling the way you do and stewing instead in your mounting resentment with the King who had refused, even just this one time, to truly listen to you.

***

It has been a few days since your fight with your King, and you had not seen a hair of him since.

Not that it matters to you, anyway: you’re still wounded and angry at him, after all. Has he finally learned and decided to give you some fucking space, for once?

You’re not one to complain about this little development.

As you sit in the garden waiting for your company, you leisurely sip the coffee Morwyn herself had brewed, noting how she had taken to heart your preference. Leaning on the table sprawled with sweets she had picked for you, you absently toy on the whipped cream frosting that decorated one of the teacakes as you hear footfalls on the gravel approaching.

The friend you’re waiting for has finally arrived.

“What took you so long?” you say, grinning at the Corinthian. He does not wait for your gesture to join him – he simply plops down on the chair before you and helps himself to the coffee, and you watch with mild longing as he uses his dream-ability to warm the beverage.

“A nightmare held me up,” he replies cooly, as he takes a sip of his piping-hot drink. “So, you actually summoned me?”

“I did,” you smugly respond. “ It’s one of the many perks I get now.”

Corinthian lets out a snort of laughter, mouthing the words ‘fuck you’ before commenting, “You know, some of us have actual work to do?”

“I know, but I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do, babysit you?” He reaches across the table to swipe at the chocolate cake you hadn’t yet touched.

Putting on an indifferent air, you casually shrug, taking a bite out of a blondie bar. “Well, I hate to pull this card, but I am your princess, so…”

“Well, if you put it that way,” he says with a grin spanning from ear to ear. “I guess this counts as work. Well, thank fucking God, I’ve been on that human’s dreams since he brought me back, and he’s put me in charge of this new nightmare to ‘show him the ropes.’ I could be crafting the worst horrors of humanity, and here I am showing someone else how it’s done. It’s pathetic.”

Your interest is piqued at the mention of the new nightmare he’s mentoring. “What’s this nightmare like?”

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Whatchutink of our dear perfect Nightmare and perfect Dream being besties? hihi

Oh and a wild Hob Gadling appears!!

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 1/21/22

Edit date: 1/22/22

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

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[spaceshipsoutthepool]

Sulk in the Sun🍹

Ao3 link

While it’s quite out of character to do so; Penny loses her cool and storms off. Although it isn’t ladylike to admit that. Brains comes to join her by the pool. And of all people, is the one to try and talk her out of potential leaving International Rescue.

Boom! last fic of the year bay-beeee. Happy 2024

Story under the cut for those who prefer to read here

Lady Penelope was never a sun chaser. Or comfort­able in great heat. Much as she was trying to relax. Forcing herself to relax might be the more operative term.

"Oh, I'd much rather be wrapped up in layers. With a walk on the heath any day.” she thought moodily, looking out over the ocean again. rather than facing the sunlight like the fellow tourists topping up their tans. “Bring on winter. It's probably a lovely chilly autumn day back home!”

Around the pool (but not actually in it), holiday makers and expats alike were turning over and over for an even bronze. Penelope privately thought most were cooking themselves to walnuts; all oiled brown and wrinkly. She decided she probably looked silly; sat in the near shade wearing a cover wrap and a large sun hat. And then decided she didn't care. Not particularly. Just like she didn’t care for this resort. And she didn’t care about International Rescue. No, not at all.

Penelope again tried to put ‘the day job’ from her mind. And tried to focus on just the sea breeze coming over the cliff side. The blue ocean. and blue almost cloudless sky stretching on for ever and ever. And somewhere out there, just beyond the horizon and further hidden by several clever mirage devices, hidden in plain sight was Tracy Island…

Drat.

"Your drink, M’Lady?"

Penelope did not jump. She refused to. Parker was now hovering at her side again, ever the faithful English butler. Even in his holiday cream chinos.

"Parker. You're on holiday too.” she scolded. “Do desist bullying the resort staff out of their jobs!"

"Begging your pardon milady. But they can't make a mixer or -pardon me language- a blooming cup of tea right.” He explained. “Not to your particular way of liking, at any rate."

Penelope sighed. He had a point.

"I do appreciate it, Parker. But you are fussing.”

“Sorry, milady.”

“Really. The world won't end just because of a little spilt milk or life providing lemons for the lemonade..." she said, taking the drink from the tray. then added with a rather viscous look back out to sea. "Despite what our American friends think."

"Quite? Erm...” Parker hesitated. It seemed he was not, for all their year's together, sure how to address a Ladyship whose pride had been wounded. Discussing Common enemies or wrong uns sure. Not catty remarks about ol’ pals and friendships possibly soured.

“Well… I’ll be off then? if you say so milady?"

"I do. Please Parker, go off and enjoy yourself?" She said, then added, “Preferably without a casino in sight?”

Parker sighed.

“No more gambling wot I ain’t got m’lady. You have my word on that. But.” Again, Parker hesitated. Then cleared his throat.

"If I might be so bold as to say so, milady-?"

"No. You may not." Penelope snubbed. And stubbornly turned back to the picture esc view.

“…Very good, m’lady.” Parker snubbed right back. Penelope sat tense, purposely ignoring him as he departed. then cursed her bad temper as even Parker left her too sit and stew.

Villains and hazards she could handle with ease. Emotions, or more unpleasant feelings, she’d always rather hated facing. Creighton-Wards don’t do very good at that. Especially without something constructive or some engagement to throw herself into.

“I wasn’t made for relaxing on sunbeds.” She thought. “That clearly skipped a generation.”

She did persevere, however, between sipping the fruity drink and reading the awful bad romance thriller book she’d brought with her.

(she’d initially brought the new hit bestseller to hide the history journal she had actually been reading. It wouldn’t do for the British tabloid press to think she wasn’t such a blonde. But then Diane had said the Book was so awful, it was actually good. So, Penelope had tried to read it for real. Then decided while she could trust Diane one many things, life and death things even; book recommendations was not one of them.)

The book, however bad, wasn't exciting enough to take her mind off things. Not properly. But She absolutely was not going to lose her temper, again or spend the whole holiday shut up in her room. Nor was she going to cry or shed one single tear over Jeff bloody Tracy. Or Scott for that matter. She hadn’t so far and was not about to start. Certainly not in public, thank you very much.

Lady Penelope was just debating if she should give it up? And see what the on-site gym had to offer, hoping to physically run away from her troubles. But when she went to sit up her ribs to remind her why she was on a ‘relaxing holiday’ in the first place. Trying not to wince was extra hard when she heard Parker’s heavy footsteps. (The ex-cat burglar was deliberately making himself heard and not sneak up on her again.) Instead, Penelope repressed a groan. not even forty minutes had gone past since she’d asked to be left in peace!

"Begging your pardon again ma'am. but there’s a gentleman wishing to speak to you?"

"If it’s anyone with the surname Tracy on the telephone I do not wish to speak to them." She snapped, not looking up from the book.

"Good thing it ain’t on the phone, then." Parker cut back, rather brutishly. then asked, "What can I get you to drink, young sir?"

"J-Just a c- cold soft drink please, Parker."

"Brains?!"

"H-hi Lady Penelope.”

Penelope bolted up (ouch) and lifted her sunglasses. Sure enough, there was International Rescues resident genius. He gave a little wave, as Parker gave a little nod and left. "My dear boy, how splendid to see you! What on earth are you doing here?"

“I’m dropping in on you, a-apparently. If that’s okay?" Brains smiled, sitting on the sun lounger next to hers. The young man stuck out like a sore thumb in his vest, shirt and tie. But despite the heat and the awkward way he held himself, (as if the lounger would bite him if he were to put his feet up,) Brains didn't seem to mind. Mind, Penelope supposed he was used to the heat of the southern hemisphere.

“I-I hope, I'm not interrupting anything?”

“Only my own ruminating. How did you know where I was?" She asked, astonished, putting down the rubbish paperback. Then narrowed her eyes at him. "And why are you here, even? Did someone put you up to this?"

Brains’ hands went up sharpish in surrender, like she’d levelled a pistol at him.

"N-no. no one! I came of my own accord.” He said. Then amended, putting his arms down. “Well a-actually, no. That's not true. I was coming here. Solo. then l-lost my nerve? and Tin-tin bullied me into actually going through with this. And then flew me here!"

Penelope whipped around. (Her ribs didn’t like that.) Tin-tin sat at the outdoor bar, looking resplendent in tangerine. with a drink to match. seeing she’d been spotted, Miss Kyrano saluted her.

"Tin-Tin said if you like, she's up for a trip out into town. but she’s also said to tell you she’s not coming over until she knows you definitely won’t judo throw her over the cliff. or be cross with her for bringing me over.” Brains explained.

“I would never-!” Penelope said aghast. Then remembered the rather vicious exchanging of words that had led to her checking into the resort rather than staying on Tracy Island. “…Not the first option at least.”

“T-that’s fair. And as for the how, John tracked the heli-jet to the mainland, and locating your communications was very simple. That and this is one of the nearest luxury adults only resorts to the airport. Tracy Industries has a gold card- “

"Oh of course he does." Penelope scoffed. And then felt a teensy bit bad for throwing Brains off his track.

Brains nervously cleared his throat. and continued. "Yes. to a suite? We stay here if the weather is too bad to get back across from supplies runs with the jet or the Ladybird. so, we simply walked onto site, dropped off our bags; Tin-tin got changed and then we came looking for you."

“Right. Well Brains, you’ve found me. Congratulations…”

Brains shifted nervously as she scrutinised him. Then turned away, pulling back down her sunglasses.

"A-a Penny for them, Lady Penelope?" Brains tried when the silence stretched a little too long.

"Right now, my thoughts do not make for good company." Penelope said coolly, not accolading the pun on her name, intentional or not.

Then sighed, rubbing her temple.

"My apologies. You are a pip for coming out to see me. I shouldn't take it out on you. Or dear old Parker, either for that matter."

"Less of the old." She thought she heard. Penelope glanced back to the bar where her butler was taking an awfully long time to fetch Brains his pop.

Penelope took off her sunglasses, folding them neatly back into their case.

"But Brains? Dear if you've come to apologise on their behalf or ask me to come back to the island, don’t bother. and I’m not apologising either, so don’t waste your time asking me too!" She said, feeling rather childish. Then added. “Even if it is bad form."

"No, I didn’t. And-and I'm not going to do that. I-I c c ccc.”

Brains paused and took a breath before continuing.

“I came on my behalf. Admittedly with a push. No one bar John was informed where we were heading. Just off base. And as for saying sorry-?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I think you’re both in the wrong? if it matters, Lady Penelope.” He said sincerely.

Penelope shot him a look that sent ‘stronger men’ running normally. This time Brains wasn’t affected.

“However, you came to Tracy Island for r-rest and recovery. And I’m sorry you fell out with Scott and Mr Tracy. That I will a-a-pp-p. That I am sorry for.” He continued. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. Really?"

"That, that is very sweet of you. I'm …fine, thank you." She said. Then teased just a little. "How many times do I have to say you’re free to call me Penny. or at least Penelope?"

"I don't think I could manage ‘Penny’." Brains shook his head. "It doesn't sound right from me."

“Alright.” She said, “But I mean it. And it is sweet, but I hate to think I’ve put you out. you could have just called?"

"W-would you have answered? "

"From you, yes.” Penelope said truthfully. “But then again I guess there's no way of screening calls outside of the home video phone and FAB One.”

"No. That is something I’ve been looking into? Assimilating a ringtone, different coloured lights for items. Or a caller id like on telly phones. It’s been simple enough to roll out on the vehicles so far. But on the watches and-!”

Brains stopped. “… Lady Penelope, you're letting me t-talk e-electronics again."

"You call it techno babble; I find it interesting." She shrugged. It might have sounded like false flattery to or from someone else, but she did genuinely enjoy listening to Brains. Even the bits that went over her head.

"Yes, but y-you're avoiding an awkward conversation." Brains frowned. "Where was I?"

"Television phone lines?" Penelope tried. Brains frown grew a little exasperated. "Oh, it was worth a shot. I said I would have answered. if it was you."

"Right. Well as I said I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried about you. So, were Tin-tin a-and the fellas? And we’re all missing you and had been looking forward to you visiting. Really. I hope I’m not wrong when I say I see you as a very good ‘pal’, Lady Penelope? even outside of work.”

Brains was not a great fan of spontaneous physical affection. or else Penelope might have reached over and squeezed his hand. She herself wasn’t one for mushy sentiments without substance.

“You aren’t wrong. Although I'm not using the term ‘pal’ , thank you. but You’re a dear friend of mine too Brains. One Whom I’m lucky to have I might add.”

“The gadgetry upgrades are an a-added bonus.”

He said it in his normal tone but punctuated it with a very over top wink. Ah a joke.

Parker did not bring Brains his cola. But allowed the automatic waiter to bring it to him instead. It was a shiny chirping dustbin looking thing with a flat tray head, running on wheels and a track. Nothing as sophisticated as Braman. Although someone had gone to great trouble to put a smiley face on its front using its order lights as eyes. Penelope glared at it all the same for intruding.

Brains took the drink, thanked the robot; And continued.

“And it was somewhat selfish of me too. Coming to see you I mean. I wanted to get off the island for a little while. or at least away from the house.”

“Oh? Brains, is something wrong?” Penelope wasn’t going to admit she was worried no. not at all.

Alright, perhaps a smidgen.

“hm. it isn't a nice atmosphere.” Brains said, plucking out the umbrella from the drink and rolling it in his fingers. “And the others are trying to hide in my lab which is-?”

The near splutter of giggle from her startled them both.

“Terribly sorry, Brains.” Penelope apologised. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I just got the ridiculous image of one or more of the boys physically hiding under your work bench like a game of sardines!”

“Ah. no. That would be funny! And that has happened before! Not with the work bench but the storage cupboard. I do have to remind them sometimes it is a working lab and workshop." Brains said with a chuckle. Then more seriously, "If they were working on their own projects, I wouldn’t mind. It would be simply a case of just being there at the same time? but it was more they all keep coming in rather than face one another. if that makes sense? to see how whatever it is I’m working on is going and small talk."

“Ah. No, I quite agree that it is quite bothersome when people do that. One moment.”

Penelope reached into her bag. And pulled out an anti-listening device, ironically disguised as a compartment pocket disc and radio player. While the one in her compact and Brain’s watch were probably more than adequate for any electronic bugs; this one packed a little more juice that’d allow them a little more privacy. Beaming white noise up out of its antennae, the gadget then echoed surrounding noise back outward, creating a barrier around in up to a five-metre radius. Both eves’ droppers and recording devices alike wouldn’t hear them now. Even Parker and Tin-tin’s own IR devices would struggle against it. Parker wouldn’t even hear what she was saying even if he hid in a nearby decorative pot plant.

“There. Then we speak a little more freely about your lab and the Tracy’s.” Penelope smiled, setting it on the table between their sun loungers. “You can never guarantee secrecy in these places. As you’ve proven!”

Only Brains was more focused on the not-a-radio. “Is the new synth mechanism working well for output you need it too outside of the testing conditions? I wasn’t certain it could generate the continuous voltage without compensating the battery life.”

“Now who’s talking shop to avoid discussions?” Penelope pointed out. Brains sighed and swirled the cola as if it might help.

"It isn’t a nice atmosphere.” He said eventually. “In any of the villas. But other than seeing you’re okay? I'm staying out of the actual argument please. So are Tin-Tin, Gordon and John. "

“That’s only two out of five brothers." Penelope said quietly.

“Alan is heading to Thunderbird Five two days earlier than he was meant to. John changed his mind and was going to let Alan owe him another week seeing as you weren’t there anymore? but I think Alan’s trying to escape too. " Brains said. “And his, Alan’s I mean. His stance is ‘I told you so’. but I'm not sure which side of the argument. Although John asked you to call him, and you can tell him your side of the story.”

“Our own little ‘bitch sesh’.” Penelope said, sipping her drink to avoid pursing her lips. “And Virgil's?"

Penelope wished she hadn’t asked. Brains’ face fell.

“Virgil isn't speaking to anyone." He said sadly. "Last time I saw him he was holed up in Thunderbird Two making adjustments to the starboard’s main averting b-six aid access. And he had been for nearly ninety minutes!"

"Which bit is that? That he’s repairing."

"Oh. On the hatch in the cockpit, for storage." Brains corrected. "It keeps sticking."

“What a nuisance that must be." Penelope frowned. “Especially as Two’s pilot.”

“Quite. But. It shouldn’t take all that long to fix. And… I’m not sure I should say this?”

“And?” Penelope prompted anyway.

“And Virgil is not even acting as Scott’s confidant." Brains said.

“Oh…goodness, that is troubling."

“Hmm. Yeah.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment or few.

There was a splash, which served as a fitting distraction as any.

Tin-tin had at some point put on her cap and stripped down to her swimsuit. making use of the pool she’d hopped in for a dip and started doing steady lengths. Parker was looking h’after her stuff. He sat watching the sunbathers like a guard dog, daring any dirty old men to ogle or approach the young lady. It was quite sweet how protective he was of Tin-tin. Parker had acted much the same in Paradise Peaks, despite them being on assignment.

Deciding they’d be alright, Penelope sighed again and turned back to Brains.

"It wasn't in my itinerary, you know? To upset Virgil. I didn’t set out to do so on purpose.”

“I know.”

“Or Jeff actually. Certainly not to anger him. or Scott. or any of you for that matter-."

“don't.” Brains frowned interrupting. “I know that. With what was said, I believe it was needed, giving the operation. but the way it was put, it wasn't right.”

“That's rather the crux of the matter. rather than quite what was said itself.” Penelope admitted. Brains nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Does he often do that with the rest of you?”

“No, not a lot. Although sometimes Mr Tracy says things in that tone without meaning too. But He does it to even Kranyo? I don’t like it when he does that.”

“I doubt Kryano does either. Well, thank you for your honesty… I knew I was in for a lecture. Or possibly at worst a telling off. I just hadn’t expected it levelled at me quite so bluntly or on a personal level.” Penelope complained. “Oh dear. But you are right. And I shouldn’t have shot back either. At Jeff. I'm afraid my own father was a ‘give them as good as back, son’ sort of approach too.”

“Mine tried.” Brains agreed. “So did the professor.”

“Oh?”

Brains very very rarely ever talked about his family life before the Tracy’s. Adopted or otherwise. But he was slightly more casual here, just for a brief moment.

“It didn’t take. Sending me to boxing classes to t-toughen me up just gave the school bully an easier target. Especially if I couldn’t see them in the ring without my glasses.” He said. And waved off any sympathy.

“H-how did your parents find it?” Brains asked and at her questioning look clarified, “Not following the life they’d planned for you? If that’s not too personal?”

“From you, no, not at all. Hmm. I think switching from scouts to the guides helped? But it was being made head girl and going to finishing school that finally won mater over.” Penelope shrugged. Something her old tutor would have struck her with a ruler for, speaking of. “As for my father? In his own words better a strong daughter then another waste of an heir like his brother was. Yours?”

“The professor didn’t really mind what I wore or what I changed, so long as I didn’t miss any classes.”

Brains didn’t elaborate any further. Penelope picked up the thread of conversation before the silence became awkward.

“I'm afraid I’ve made papa sound a brute. He wasn’t. He was a good man in most respects. although I don’t think he and Jeff would have gotten on at all.” She said. But the augment was still playing on her mind. and the subject circled back and reared its ugly head. “But speaking of Jeff and fathers. This isn’t a case of simply being grounded or getting into trouble with a local constable, is it?”

Brains shook his head, and Penelope continued. “And yet Jeff spoke to me like a child.”

“But what you did was incredibly risky? He’s right to think that.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need to hear any more of his Opinions.” Penelope said curtly. “…or his mothers.”

"If it helps Mrs Tracy called him and Scott foolish. For speaking to you like that. Individually. and idiots collectively " Brains put in.

"It does actually." Penelope said, a little cattily. "Given Grandmama Tracy cannot stand me, she must really be quite galled to be on my side."

“y-yeah. Well partly on your side.”

"Was she very rude about me?" Penelope grinned. Brains thought for a moment reanalysing.

“Urm…you do know Mrs Tracy says your name odd. Like it’s an insult?” He said warily.

“Oh, she always does that. That's why I call her Grandmama.”

“Oh. But Mrs Tracy hates that?”

“I know. She pretends to flirt with Parker, and she knows we all hate that.”

“I'm not certain it is pretend. Wait, is that why she called you a snob?”

“Is that all? Well, I am. That’s not terribly rude. if it’s true.” Penelope smiled sweetly. “She also thinks I'm a bad influence on you Tin-tin and the boys. And Jeff to boot.”

“Really? I don’t believe it.”

“She told me that herself. And you’ve my word it’s the truth.”

"I don’t understand why you find that funny?” Brains said, “Oh well. Other than that Mrs Tracy wasn't so rude as to call you anything but ‘her majesty!’ behind your back… But that was before the fight."

“It was hardly a fight! Nothing was broken or hit." Penelope disagreed.

"Well, what would yo-you call it then?"

Penelope thought. "A mild skirmish.” She said, “Or perhaps the start of a rift."

"I- I’m not going to call it that first one. But Mrs Tracy is being very vocal about everything being ’bang out of order’. And that she ‘raised you boys better’.” Brains said, with air quotations. “And she keeps dishing out chores. The villa is spotless. And Mrs Tracy is hand washing the dishes despite having the dishwasher. She only does that when she’s cross.”

Brains then smiled and lowered his voice unnecessarily, "Can you keep a secret, Lady Penelope?"

"Always dear.” Penelope whispered back, conspiring for juicy gossip. “Go on?"

"Mr Tracy even got middle named!" Brains chuckled. "He was complaining about Virgil’s hiding. And Mrs Tracy told him to pull his own socks up. Metaphorically. B-but he doesn’t know Gordon and I heard him."

"Oh my!” Penelope tittered. “Although if Gordon heard? then it will go around the island like wildfire."

“T-true True.” Brains smiled.

But then that smile slipped somewhat.

"I-I'm afraid there’s no way to avoid Scott’s fussing or temper by the way. He gets very worried about any of us getting hurt. You and me? We might not be one of his brothers but Scott? He's always trying to look out for everyone."

"I know." Penelope conceded. "I know. But the hypocrisy? He cannot throw himself into ridiculous scrapes himself then join in with berating me like a child!"

"I know.” Brains echoed. “He does it a lot. Even worse since that accident with the ‘dish Monte Bianco? the others call him smother hen.”

Virgil had called it that and some several more rather expletive things, she knew.

“Gordon says it’s a compliment?” Brains continued. “Too you I mean. That Scott cares for you. As one of the team”

“It didn’t feel like a compliment.” Penelope pouted. Not that she’d admit that. “He didn't have to jump in and agree with Jeff quite so eagerly either. And the dressing down from Mr Jeff Tracy? I maintain; it really felt like I was being spoken to like a child!”

“Hmm.”

Brains paused tapping his shoe nervously.

"I I do respect Mr Tracy, a great deal. But sometimes..."

Brains took a deep breath.

“Sometimes Jeff can be a little frustrating to deal with.” Penelope suggested. “And it feels like he doesn’t take one seriously.”

“You hit the pr-pro p. you’ve hit the nail on the head there as it were, Lady Penelope.” Brains paused again. “I wish sometimes…”

Penelope gave him a moment. But Brains changed tack.

"You were worried about him. Last April? so you insisted Mr Tracy took a holiday, correct?" he said, placing the cola on the table next to hers and the fake radio.

"I did.” She said, curious to see where he was going with this. “After a very insistent message from a little thunderbird-ie prompted it. But they were right."

"Oh. I didn't know that bit… but You still had Mr Tracy’s best interests at heart, right?"

" I hoped so."

Jeff had been very against it…

"But then Scott burnt out trying to be in charge?" Brains said. "Even before the seascape called in. And Mr Tracy came back only to the island."

"I remember." Penelope said. This time it was her turn to pause before speaking. “I felt like I was being blamed without him saying so.”

"Hmm. he doesn’t like it. not being in charge?” Brains said. Penelope agreed. “But at the same time, he’s never given Scott any training or expertise into stepping up. He just expects Scott to ‘know’ what to do. Same with Tracy industries. And it isn’t just Scott. It’s all five of them. I know they had a say in the matter of making the operations. But not so much in how it’s run sometimes. Or how it’ll run in the future.”

“Hmm.” Penelope smiled and put her shades back on. “And that makes it all alright, doesn’t it?”

“Lady Penelope?”

“Yes?”

"Your jaw is doing that thing it does on missions where you’re really angry but pretending to be helpless."

“Good grief Brains! Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“You can count cards!” Brains shot back. "I prefer chess anyway. Scott was right in the lounge though, w-with what he said.”

“Scott was rude.”

“But correct. You don’t have to prove that you’re indestructible. We know you aren’t, even if you act like it!”

Penelope did not hide her scowl this time. “I can manage, you know? I'm aware this latest ‘favour’ I’ve done for Jeff is more of a blot on my record than a gold star. But I’ve been living this lifestyle for longer than they have.”

“I k-know that! We all do. We were all worried!” Brains said and put his head in his hands. He didn’t look up when spoke.

“He was right. So was Mr Tracy. but the way it was put wasn't. He does it to his brothers all the time! even when they’re out on a rescue. And sometimes Mr Tracy? He speaks to them as their dad when they’re running through protocols. or as a commander when they need their father?”

"That's the trouble with a family business I suppose." Penelope sighed. She drew out a cigarette case and her holder. At exactly the right moment Parker just happened to be walking past to light it for her with just a flip of his zippo. Barely breaking his stride. Remarkable talent of that man.

"I get I am essentially an employee in a family run enterprise. Albeit a rather extravagant one. As well as a friend of said family." Penelope continued, exhaling smoke out. "But to get a dressing down so publicly? With the lot of you in earshot, and Scott as his second jumping in and backing him up? Call me spoiled but I'm not used to it. I wouldn't do that to anyone who works in my home or working under me invited to the house. it's unseemly!"

That last bit came out a little loud and had it not been for the anti-eavesdropping device then heads may have turned.

Brains stifled a cough through his nose. And Penelope made sure to blow smoke the other way.

"What about your err... previous employment?" he asked, waving smoke away from his face. “Did You never get in this sort of trouble with them?”

“Oh goodness all the time. Not so much in journalism, but I’ve had some HORRID directors and horrible bosses. Far worse than Jeff. Especially within the fashion industry. thank goodness for houses like François Lemaire!” Penelope sighed again. "But I can get away with kicking up a fuss right back if needs be behind the catwalk and cameras if something is wrong. especially on behalf of the newer or younger models. Brands don't want the press of being outed as underpaying or cutting corners... That wasn't what you meant, was it dear?”

Brains shook his head. “Not really. But was there much difference? With modelling, interviews and being an agent.”

“The extortionate pay and more weapons pointed at my head.” Penelope quipped. Then really thought about it. “And bizarrely less sexism interestingly enough? Things were said to my face more, granted, but I could actively use that to an advantage.”

“Gee. T-that’s socially fascinating to observe. But I would not like to step into either of those worlds. With the exception of consulting and inventions.” Brains said. Then laughed. “Wait? You know those tacky souvenirs that say things like ‘you don’t have to be mad to work here-?

“But it helps.” Penelope said. “Yes, I know the ones you mean.”

“Well, I think we don’t have to be mad where we work?”

Penelope chuckled right back. “But it helps. True, very true.”

“I b-believe I might know what I'm contributing to the Secret Santa.” Brains said, making a note in his pocketbook. “”

“That’s very apt. regardless of whose name you pull out.” Penelope agreed. “What’s the limit this year by the way?”

The worst-best present was a Tracy Tradition. Had been since the boys had been pocket money age. save buying four presents each. And Grandma receiving five of the same mug or tea towel. The categories had become more wilder but if anything, the price limit had come down, to maintain the challenge.

“Gordon says up it to twenty dollars. but Alan wants to be extra hard and say ten.”

“I could be a bounder and include the postage then.” Penelope said, not meaning it really. “You get that slogan. I’ll contribute something with Alice in Wonderland. We're all mad here!”

“I'm sensing a theme.” Brains stammered.

“Let’s see if they notice. Mind I suppose Tracy Island is a wonderland somewhat.” Penelope smiled. “All your brilliant ideas? the bravery, the secrets.”

Brains however wasn’t laughing.

“Will you stay? In the organisation.” He said, suddenly serious and switching topics. It threw her, just a little.

“Why should I?!” Penelope retorted. She hadn’t thought of quitting. Not really. But she could!

“I can give you a list of reasons if that wasn’t rhetorical.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need a list.” She frowned. Penelope went to take another drag of her cigarette only to find it had burnt up.

“Can I ask why you don’t just fly back to England then?” Brains asked as she stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“No.”

The voice didn’t normally allow for any argument to bode. But Penelope wasn’t having much luck in being intimidating. Must be something with the factor seventy sunscreen.

“I m-maybe wrong but I think you were hoping someone would come. Here, from the island. To find you.” Brains challenged. “I like to think you’re giving them a chance to get their act t-together.

“Think what you like!” Penelope said. And in Trying to Give him the brush off, she snatched up her book again. She even started reading it again to ignore him. Unfortunately, she had it Upside down. And didn’t realise for a beat too long she was so annoyed. Still Penelope Powered through it. even tuning the pages. Brains in turn turned in his seat. and looked out over the same spot as she’d spent most of the day doing. He sipped his cola, politely ignoring her ignoring him.

“G-good book?” he asked eventually.

“Awful.” Penelope said, calmer. Brains was annoyingly very good at being a good influence. “And not in a way so bad it’s entertaining.”

“Ah. S-shame. Not even if it’s read the wrong way r-round upside down and back to front?”

“Not even then, darling.” She said, putting it back down. And steeled her courage to the sticking place. “And… going back to your question. admittedly I couldn’t face the flight. Home. Or Back to the island.”

Brains frowned. “Do you mean physically or psychologically?”

“Both-.”

“Lady Penelope-!” Brains interrupted.

“well-!” she interrupted right back. Goodness, this felt horribly vulnerable! “I just wasn’t in the mood for another argument. And a long-haul flight, even in a Fireflash, sounded extremely inadvisable at this point.”

“Are you in pain?” Brains asked. Then eyed her glass suspiciously. “Should you be drinking that on medication?”

“Now you sound like a Tracy. It’s a mocktail. I’m not so foolish to get white girl brit-abroad wasted, thank you! Not with bruises.” Penelope said, stirring it for emphasis. And gave a little scowl. “It's mostly fruity and syrup. Parker was right, this isn’t even close to a cocktail.”

“So, if you aren’t drinking a-alcohol, does that mean you are taking pain relief?”

“Yes, Brains I am.”

“The full prescribed dosage?”

Penelope didn’t dignify that with a straight answer. Brains pushed his glasses back up his nose and continued to stare incredulously at her till Penelope explained.

“I didn’t want to take them. They’re so strong. They make me woozy, and I cannot stand how at odds with my own limbs they make me feel.” She grumbled. “I came here to relax, not to be comatose.”

“You came to the island to relax. You went to recover enough to get out of any questions from the press.” Brains corrected. And sighed,

“Mr Tracy’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

“I meant it when I said think what you like.” Lady Penelope said coolly. “I'm here and he’s there. And he’ll still be behind his desk when I get home.”

“Is that your solution for dealing with uncomfortable situations?” Brains accused. “j-just run away and hide.”

“Better to hide in plain sight then get caught." Penelope sniffed.

“That's not denying running away.” Brains retorted.

“It was hardly a run. Given how long it took to repack my bags.” Penelope said, Losing her temper with another old friend. It wasn’t a burning fiery thing this time; this burnt like ice. “And don’t act as if he has never upset you either? Or that you’ve never buried yourself in work to avoid Jeff. Scott told me about the smashed models.”

That last bit she added Rather unfairly. Beastly even. Penelope regretted it the instant she said it. Brains regarded her for a moment, and she thought he might get up and leave that time. She wouldn’t blame him.

Instead, he grumbled, "You’re all very alike y-you know? In that you're all sorry about how you spoke to each other but too stubborn to a-actually apologise. Plus, you’re British and not going to admit he up­set you. Really upset you."

"For someone who just said he'd rather watch from the side-lines, you know a lot about how people tick Brains.”

“For someone who’s so cool under pressure she frustrates the Hood? you can be one heck of a hot head sometimes, Lady Penelope!”

Penelope considered he had a point. But didn’t verbally say so.

“What was in your cola to make you so direct today?” she said instead.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” he replied instead.

“Because I do not always need to be rescued.” Penelope stated. “I’m not a damsel in some story. For every concern Parker or I have called the boys in, there must be a dozen or so missions I handle. sometimes without most of you even being aware of until afterwards.”

“I know.” Brains said quietly. “But you did need rescuing in that situation. Or should have been? And you didn’t ask for help.”

“I am aware, Brains. Hindsight is a marvellous thing.” She snipped. “Unfortunately, I was too late in my decision making.”

“P-Penelope? You were hurt.”

Maybe it was the fact he’d dropped the title? Or it was the unsaid parallels to another tragedy. but Penelope didn’t interrupt.

“In an avalanche of all things. And at one point even missing? And knocked unconscious. Enough to scare us all.” Brains said. “That might be the reason Mr Tracy was, either consciously or not, hard on you. But… It is frustrating that we’re an organisation that helps people; but we’re bad at looking out for each other. Especially to how everyone is feeling, e-emotionally.”

“…Brains, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Or brought up the Thunderbird Six planning.” She said in a hush. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks.” Brains nodded. Then added, “A -also how much did he tell you? About the model I broke?”

Penelope was Not glad to change the subject as such. But certainly, latching on to it.

“So, it was on purpose then?” Penelope asked.

“no.” Brains defected. “Frustration? yeah…Failure isn’t an option. Even just demonstrations and trials.”

“He said it was more than one.”

Brains looked up at that, worried.

“S-Scott knew about the other models?”

“No. You just told me.” Penelope pointed out. Brains’ mouth opened and closed twice before just settling on silently frowning. “Scott said they’d been other pitches…and then even after repurposing Alan’s biplane, you seemed to lose confidence in yourself for a little while. That was clear even to Parker and myself.”

“wouldn’t you? nothing was good enough.” Brains frowned. “Nothing I made was what Mr Tracy had in mind.”

This time Lady Penelope did reach across the gap to squeeze his arm. It was more on his sleeve if anything. She didn’t wish to overwhelm the poor fellow.

“There’s no shame in wanting to work to a specification.” She tried.

“Or wanting to stick to the mission.” Brains countered in agreement. “Just please have ah- an extra b- backup plan next time, Lady Penelope? And be more careful around missions with snow.”

Lady Penelope promised she would.

“Annoyingly, I'm normally rather good at them. And please don’t be cross about the models? Scott didn’t tell me a lot. Virgil and John filled me in a little more. It wasn’t gossip, they were worried for you, dear boy.” She continued. “But they told me enough to make me wish you’d gotten to be on board your airship’s maiden voyage. Even if it did get sabotaged and end up a rather dangerous affair.”

“Me too. I’d have liked to see the Sky Ship launch at least. Even if it had just been from inside a Thunderbird.” Brains said, a little wistfully. “Maybe if they ever build a second one? Ah-although I doubt it after the cost of the damage I caused-”

“You get that idea out of your head this instant!” Penelope scolded. Brains looked up at her, shocked. Whether it was her Tone of voice, or he hadn’t meant to say that bit aloud, she didn’t care.

“You didn’t cause Skyship’s nosedive into a controversial missile base.” She reminded him. “Those villains who killed the crew and then one another did. You saved us. The shoot-out caused the crash. None of the blame rests on your shoulders.”

“I know but it was my design-?” he tried.

“Absolutely none of the events are your fault and the blame does not rest on your shoulders. If anyone has said otherwise, then they are exceptionally stupid.” Penelope challenged. “And if you argue that it is your fault even out of misplaced guilt or the like, I will personally throw you in that pool, in what you are wearing right now!”

“You y-you’re not meant to lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous for at least two weeks?!”

“Then I will get Parkers and Tin-tin’s assistance. Don’t think I won’t!”

Brains gulped.

“…I-I don’t think I’ve ever known you so cross.”

“Likewise!”

“First at Mr Tracy, then me.”

“Jeff was being, pardon my language, an arse. you dear are listening to your insecurities. No one gets to make you feel small, Brains. not even your own thoughts.” Penelope said stubbornly.

Brains nodded slowly. And sighed, “I know the actions of others weren’t my fault. And no one said t-they were. The opposite in fact. But like you said earlier? About being blamed. It wasn’t in my control what happened. But I still feel bad?”

“And that was only after it crashed. I felt bad about being laughed at and I think that reflected in everything else I worked on for a while. And how I was with the Tracy’s.” Brains admitted. “I can design incredible machines. I know that. but having no brief made it e-extra challenging when its s-shouldn’t have been. And then the answer had been under our noses the entire time.”

“isn’t it just like that sometimes?”

“Hmm…also I’ve never heard you swear before? That’s t-twice in an hour now.”

“I blame the heat. It’s clearly getting to me.”

“If Mr Tracy apologises, Will you forgive him? and stay?”

Penny withdrew her hand.

“And if he doesn’t?” she suggested.

No one had called her. No one had stopped her leaving Tracy Island in the first place.

“Well, then my analyzation of the situation would be wrong. But I very much doubt Tin-tin and the Tracy brothers would let you leave without a fight. especially if you called Virgil. Middle brother and chief peacekeeper.”

“Why should I be the one to extend the olive branch?”

“Would I be here if you h-had? Because they're trying to give you space and also they are g-genuinely terrified of upsetting you further.” Brains said. “Scott will say he’s sorry the moment you get him on a private call. He’s admitted aloud he messed up.”

“If he messed up, then so did I. Disastrously so.” Penelope admitted. “With such an abysmal rookie mistake too. I'm surprised I wasn’t let go of on the spot.”

Brains had unfortunately taken a swig of his drink and nearly choked on it.

“Let Go!? You a-are our top agent!”

“That, I doubt.” Penelope said. “I failed a mission, old boy. Regardless of the weather and the results. The only reason that microfilm was recovered was sheer dumb luck. I didn’t even complete the task, Parker did it for me. All for what? a twisted ankle, bruised ribs and the whole island laughing at or scolding me!”

“We weren’t laughing!”

“It certainly felt like it.”

“w-what did you just tell me about not listening to your own thoughts?” he tried. “I c-could throw you in the pool!”

“Could you? Try it. Dear.” Penelope challenged, with an eyebrow.

Brains slowly backed down. Not without a complaint.

“Why is throwing people and t-things in the pool the biggest threat in my life recently?”

“You are a gentleman.”

“I mean it though. You’re both our friend and the best agent.” Brains insisted. “You go across the world for us, not just London. You’re the only agent he trusts to have a direct link too. And your portrait hangs on the wall. The only one of our networks. Alongside his own sons.”

“…And what if I’m sick of hiding in plain sight?”

It was very quietly asked. She wasn’t sure Brains had heard it. Penelope was about to pretend she hadn’t said it at all and carry on when he spoke again.

“Can you go without? The trills and the subterfuge.” Brains asked. “Sometimes I'm sick of being an inventor. But if I didn’t create? I’d die!”

“Spoke like a true artist…No. I doubt I could retire even if I needed to. And it has been the only enterprise I’ve been in in my life with some moral backbone.” Penelope admitted. “But I know one thing.”

“What’s t-that?”

“I definitely wasn’t made for relaxing when forced too.”

“M-most definitely a Tracy trait.”

“Tosh. I told you, I'm a bad influence on them, remember? But truly, shall we get out of here?” Penelope suggested. “I believe you said our favourite technician mentioned a trip out?”

“I b-believe I did. That's a good idea.” Brains grinned. “So long as this m-means you’re not cross with me for coming out here.”

“No. I'm rather glad you did.” Penelope smiled. “Give me time to change and arrange the car with Parker.”

“I’ll go let Tin-tin know.” Brains agreed getting up. “When will you be back?”

“Will you be coming with us?” Penelope asked with a frown.

“Hmm, no. not s-shopping at least. But I might come for the drive.” He said, “There's also p-plenty of galleries and museums in the town. and a rather fun shooting range just outside of it. Most of us prefer it to the island one even.”

“Oh darling, you love dressing room montage, and you know it.” Penelope teased. “Here. A toast?”

Brains was bemused. But raised his glass anyway. “T-to what?”

“To the whims of Jeff Tracy.” Lady Penelope joked, “And what we put up with sometimes for international rescue.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He beamed. And clinked his glass to hers.

“Oh, and Brains?” She asked. The scientist turned back.

“Y-yes, Penelope?”

“Thank you. For this.” she said sincerely. “I think a ‘little chat’ was long overdue. And far more needed than a holiday.”

[elmaestrostan]

@protect-daniel-james

Now I’ve not listened to the audio with full understanding because my Spanish isn’t quite that level, but there’s some parts they’ve put into the accompanying article that are just lovely.

Unai Emery: "The management of egos begins in oneself"

We talked about soccer and cycling with Villarreal's coach

SER Ciclista we like to get to know our guests in depth. The one in this episode is one of the most international and award-winning soccer coaches of our football, Unai Emery. He has trained Lorca, U. D. Almería, Valencia C. F., Spartak of Moscow, Seville F. C., Paris Saint Germain, Arsenal F. C. and Villarreal C. F., with which this season he maintains a brilliant trajectory in the League and Champions League, after being proclaimed last season champion of the UEFA Europa League for the first time in its history.

Unai remembers his worst fall, like all our guests, and for him the memory is associated with "when my aita (father) bought me the first bike, I left the garage, and at 100 meters I crashed into a parked car... I still remember the scare, I would be 10 or twelve years old, I got up scared, and still my father was coming towards me making a fuss...".

He recognizes that "cycling is a very popular sport in Gipuzkoa, in the Basque Country... we love cycling very much, they immediately buy us a ball, a bicycle..." The Gipuzkoan coach is one more link to a family of athletes originally from Hondarribia, a town located on the border with France, hence he recognizes that "my favorite mountain is Jaizkibel, which I always have in my mind." There he uses the bike "to go to the beach or the sports center," or to this first-class port, which he always has in his mind "when I want to demand." Of course, he can't take too many risks on the two wheels "I'm on insurance for my profession, I have friends who make trips in groups, I take care of myself so I don't have accidents and I try to do the tours by stationary bike."

He remembers a funny anecdote, "in Valencia we made a 25 kms outing in pre-season, we went up to a monastery, and Joaquín was the 25 kms cursing me."

Emery's career is, and has been, very successful, but not without difficulties, "when things are easy the merit of doing them is small... In difficulties you have to look for motivations..." He has trained in different countries, where he has had the opportunity to practice languages such as French "which in Hondarribia is one more language," or English "I deepened the base and now it is my third language." With what he couldn't is with Russian, "I'm in a few words."

About the use of our favorite vehicle, remember that "in Paris it was difficult to see a bicycle, in London, if... Moscow is a very chaotic city and because of the climate, it's difficult..."

From the football philosophy of the current coach of Villarreal, a reference recalling a 6-1 defeat at the Camp Nou, "the defeats are overcome, once lived you have to take out the profitable things, it is a negative experience that I want to make positive." And about the management of a wardrobe, "the management of egos begins in oneself, if not managing them begins to affect other people around, clubs, institutions you have to try to dominate or control them."

As usual in our podcast, Unai Emery answers the questions of some guests. Iñaki Bea, a bench partner and then a player in charge, reminds him of those shared experiences, and gives him the ability to make reflections on the characteristics of the athlete, "you have to have innate minimum conditions, then the technical skills, the conditions ... and the ability to improve." Our guest shares a crew (group of friends) with Patxi Vila, a cyclist who made the same trip as him, from active athlete to coach in the Movistar Team, and has long conversations and confidences with him.

Pedro Reverte (former soccer player and now Technical Director of UCAM Murcia) witnessed that transition from player to coach "Unai took the team at the age of 32, being a player, in half table... we had doubts, he entered the locker room and his message was very direct, he set two objectives: the playoffs and the promotion; the team began to achieve results, we got into the playoff, and we got the promotion." From that time Emery remembers that fate wanted his team to play the promotion against the Real Unión de Irún, a team of which his brother is president, "as a coach he owed me to another region, another city, other friends..." and eliminated him.

I would share tandem with "all those who have worked with me," with a special memory of Leo López, with whom he got the promotion of Lorca, "who passed away two years ago." And I wouldn't do it with those who "I didn't have attune in the day to day in Moscow."

One of the destinations in his football career was Sevilla, where he spent three and a half years, and won three consecutive Europa League titles. From there, one of the most popular characters in Spanish football, Monchi, asks him what marked him in his time at the Nervión club. It is clear "the feeling of belonging to the colors, to a team, the fans... the environment helps you to improve competitiveness. Monchi and I did a good tandem, it helped me on a personal and professional level."

Imanol Idiakez is his second in Villarreal and asks him "who would he like to have in the Director's car if he had to play a Tour in a time trial on the last day." The answer is clear, "the assistants or presidents you may have had." His brother, Igor Emery, reminds him of one of his cycling myths, Marino Lejarreta the "Junco de Bérriz", "I saw him in Hondarribia, he always amazed me, it was humility personified." And the journalist of Cadena SER in Seville, Santi Ortega, puts on the table one of the most repeated phrases by the Gipuzkoan, "you have to enjoy the road," recognizing that "he was a currante, he earned the respect of many people." Unai says goodbye to our podcast with an emotional memory for Juan Carlos Unzué, "it's wonderful to hear him."

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Other Evans Girl [Part Eleven]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 6377

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Daisy was warm, uncomfortably so, and she felt trapped under something soft yet cumbersome which was making it hard to breathe. She had to escape. As she pried open her eyes and tried to find out where she was she found that the room had a dreadfully high ceiling, but most rooms in the castle did so that wasn’t too telling, and the only light was from the lamps high up on the walls. A quick glance down at her chest revealed the source of her discomfort was several thick blankets that had been laid upon her and so in an attempt to get some relief she moved to pull them away but stopped as she felt a ripple of agony through her abdomen. She squealed and fell back in pain, trying to breathe through it. From somewhere near her she heard a squeak of chair legs moving against the stone floor and then the sound of footsteps and when Daisy managed to open her eyes she found Sirius hovering next to her bed watching her with concern.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked softly, his grey eyes searching hers. ‘Yeah,’ she said through gritted teeth as she tried to sit up, ‘just sore.’

He nodded and held a hand out so she could manoeuvre herself into a comfortable sitting position. Fortunately once she was she had pulled a couple of blankets down she felt better and managed to settle herself in her bed. She was sure she was in the hospital wing even though she couldn’t see much of the room given that her bed had been tucked away behind some hospital screens and though she couldn’t see any windows the lamplight indicated it was quite late. Sirius sat back down in a chair near the foot of her bed which sparked her interest but she said nothing about it and instead opted to ask, ‘what time is it?’ ‘A little after midnight,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it a little late for visiting?’ she chuckled. ‘This isn’t a private ward you know,’ he rebuffed and Daisy instantly blushed. Of course, he was just in the ward himself. Why would he be visiting her? ‘Oh yeah,’ she said, allowing her fingers to fiddle with an errant thread of the only blanket on her now. The fog was clearing now and flashes of events started to come back to her.

‘Remus. How’s Remus?’ she asked anxiously. ‘He’s fine. Worried about you but that’s about it. He got discharged yesterday morning,’ Sirius replied. ‘Yesterday?! How long was I out?’ she asked. ‘Nearly thirty hours,’ he said with a smirk, ‘you had us going there for a while.’ ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. However, before he could answer Madam Pomfrey appeared from behind the screens in a flurry. ‘Miss Evans, I thought I heard you up. You gave us quite a scare there girl,’ she said as she fussed around her, laying several cups on the table in front of her as the girl watched her. ‘Now, how are you feeling? Have you any pain? Nausea? Have you vomited?’ she asked in rapid succession only allowing enough time for Daisy to nod or shake her head. ‘Well, I need you to take these now. Mr Black, go and get Dumbledore. He’ll want to speak with Miss Evans right away and get Professor McGonagall whilst you’re there. No doubt she’ll want to hear her account as well,’ Sirius stood reluctantly watching Daisy warily as he went to follow the teacher’s orders. ‘Actually, Madam Pomfrey,’ the girl said instantly, feeling two sets of eyes on her, ‘can it wait till morning?’ ‘Daisy dear,’ Madam Pomfrey sighed. ‘I know it’s important but I really don’t feel up to it right now. I promise I will do it first thing,’ she said. Madam Pomfrey observed her for a moment before answering reluctantly, ‘fine. But first thing.’ ‘I promise,’ Daisy nodded. As the older witch turned to leave, collecting the now empty vials from which Daisy had downed several putrid potions, she turned to look at Sirius and said, ‘Mr Black? I take it you can tear yourself away from Miss Evans now you have seen she’s okay?’ Sirius did nothing but scowl not that it deterred the nurse as she added, ‘visiting is over.’ ‘Actually, can he stay?’ Daisy blurted out. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was guilt, curiosity, or something she couldn’t fathom in her befuddled state but she wanted Sirius to stay. Even Sirius seemed to be confused by her request though he couldn’t hide the smile on his face as Madam Pomfrey sighed. ‘Very well,’ she relented though the severity didn’t leave her voice as she said, ‘but just until morning. After that he will have to stick to the same visiting hours as everyone else. Even your poor sister had to leave.’

At her words Daisy’s heart twinged but she pushed it away watching as the nurse disappeared behind the screen, her soft footsteps making their way up the ward until they disappeared into her office, the door closing with a click. Once she was gone Daisy released the breath she’d been holding. She hadn’t yet thought about Lily. How was her twin feeling? Did she know what happened? Had she seen her? Sirius could see the questions whizzing behind her eyes and got up and perched on the end of her bed capturing her attention.

‘Go on,’ he said with an inviting smile, ‘hit me with the questions.’ ‘What happened?’ Daisy asked. ‘Do you want the official version or what actually happened?’ he smirked a glint in his grey eyes. ‘Why don’t you tell me what I have to tell Dumbledore first then we can tackle the truth?’ she bargained making Sirius’ smile turn to a grin. ‘Snivellus saw Remus leaving for the shrieking shack and convinced you to tag along. He suspected what Remus was and wanted to out him to the world. We were late to the feast and spotted you leaving which is why we followed you to haul your arse’s back because we know about Remus. He transformed with us inside because Snape refused to leave,’ Sirius stated simply. It was close enough to be the truth and the way he told it left no doubt in her mind that the teachers would lap it up. In fact the more she thought of it the more she realised why he was here. He wasn’t hovering over her bedside because he was worried, he was there to make sure she knew the story before she got put in front of any teachers.

‘Why not tell the truth?’ she asked meekly. Sirius barked a laugh and all of a sudden the image of that shaggy black dog came to her mind. ‘Because I doubt telling McGonagall and Dumbledore that me and my two friends learned to be illegal animagi to help out our werewolf pal would go down too well,’ he said. ‘Yeah sure,’ she nodded but her brain was too hyped up for her to let it go, ‘but don’t you think Severus will tell?’

‘He’s been surprisingly quiet,’ Sirius admitted, ‘of course I don’t know what he said when he was in with Dumbledore and that lot but as far as I know he’s kept his mouth shut about our indiscretions.’

‘Why though?’ she asked uneasily remembering the hatred in his eyes. Not even their safety had mattered to him if it meant getting one over on Potter.

‘I suppose he knows he doesn’t win anything by slinging more mud,’ Sirius shrugged, ‘whatever plan the pair of you concocted he still went in knowing he might have got you killed. And given the way your sister’s been I doubt he wants anyone asking more questions.’

‘Right,’ Daisy said, her heart twinging once more mostly at the thought of Lily but also because knowing he’d put her in harm’s way to hurt Remus like that hurt more than she expected it too. ‘Why didn’t you tell them I was trying to find out what Remus was too?’ she asked, dropping her gaze. ‘Were you?’ he asked watching her quietly. Daisy shook her head. She had had truly no idea what they had been up to and looking back on it now she wondered why she had been so intent in the first place. ‘I really had no idea about Remus. Honestly,’ she murmured. ‘I could tell by the look on your face,’ he chuckled. ‘Does he hate me?’ she asked, dropping her gaze as she fiddled with the bedclothes. ‘Why would he?’ Sirius asked, snapping her gaze back up. ‘He thinks I wanted to out him to the world. To get him expelled,’ she pressed. ‘You wanted us expelled,’ Sirius chuckled. Daisy shoved him lightly though she instantly regretted it as pain rippled through her. ‘I just wanted you in trouble. I was sick of being shit on by your followers when your lot got off scot-free,’ she said earnestly. ‘I admire the cunning,’ Sirius said, ‘we could use a gal like you.’ ‘You wish,’ she smirked. They fell quiet for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say now that their conversation had turned somewhat friendly, well friendlier than they’d ever been. Though as her nerves started to flood back in he found herself asking, ‘will he speak to me?’ ‘Remus?’ Sirius asked. ‘Yeah, and James and Peter,’ she said, ‘I wanna thank them.’ ‘What for the gaping wound in your abdomen for the fifty broken bones?’ he wagered but Daisy bristled past that revelation and replied, ‘for saving me. You didn’t have to. It was my mess.’ ‘Well you can always pay us back by keeping our secrets,’ Sirius said.

Again the idea that he was only here to make sure she wouldn’t talk came back to her mind. Though she supposed she couldn’t blame him and in a way there wasn’t any reason she shouldn’t keep their secrets. After all, it wasn’t as though Remus had asked for any of this and for once the boys seemed to be doing something well, rather noble, in her opinion. So feeling as though it was the right thing to do Daisy nodded though it was betrayed by a yawn. Sirius didn’t even seem to acknowledge her agreement and instead scooted off the bed and back to the chair in a seamless fashion mumbling, ‘you should sleep,’ as he picked up the book that he had left at the foot of the bed and opened it back up. Daisy wanted to protest, she wanted to find out everything but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. So without another word she nodded and lay back down trying to ignore the throbbing in all her joints and the warm ache throughout her stomach.

Morning came slowly after that as Daisy was disturbed throughout the night with an ache or pain arising somewhere new every time she moved, and when she woke properly Sirius was gone though she noticed the book at the end of her bed was still there which was enough to convince her she hadn’t hallucinated it. Yet before she had time to gather her thoughts Madam Pomfrey appeared with a breakfast tray and several medicines for her to take. She pottered around her bedside whilst Daisy ate, talking her through her injuries, of which there were a few, and the projected timeline for recovery. By the time she left Daisy’s tray was empty, the incident seemingly not having affected her appetite.

Full and less achy off the back of whatever Madam Pomfrey had given her she settled back into bed trying to wrap her head around her current state. Her little tumble and collision with a werewolf had left her with a broken ankle, leg, wrist and several ribs and if that wasn’t bad enough she had been sliced so deep in her stomach that Madam Pomfrey had barely been able to get blood replacements in her as fast as it was coming out. The witch had even told her they were five minutes away from taking her to St Mungoes instead, fearing the worst. Daisy shuddered at the thought though she didn’t have time to dwell on it though as she was greeted by a visitor. Or three. Daisy watched as Lily, Marlene and Alice burst through the screens in a frantic mob immediately coming to her bedside whilst flinging questions at her.

‘Oh my god thank god you’re awake!’ Alice said coming to sit on one side of her. ‘Thank god she’s alive!’ Marlene corrected, ‘we thought you had died for a moment there!’ ‘They wouldn’t let us see you,’ Alice said. ‘They were on about taking you to St Mungoes,’ Lily said with worry, ‘they even nearly brought mum and dad into school, that’s how bad it was.’ ‘Mum and Dad know?’ Daisy said, worry flooding her only second to guilt as she realised that in the same way Lily had slipped her mind so had her parents. . ‘Yeah, but Dumbledore smoothed it all over from what I can tell,’ Lily replied, ‘but he wouldn’t tell us anything.’ ‘Yeah no one knows what happened,’ Alice said. ‘I mean there’s speculation-’ Marlene said. ‘But not even Sev would tell us what happened,’ Lily said morosely. Daisy’s ears pricked up at the mention of the boy’s name. Of course, he hadn’t told her what happened. ‘Doesn’t want Lily to think ill of him,’ a little voice inside her said. ‘Maybe he can’t,’ Daisy reasoned. ‘Why?’ Lily started but her words were cut off by the sound of movement behind her as McGonagall and Dumbledore came through the parted screens.

McGonagall’s beady eyes watched the girls for a moment before she said, ‘Miss Evans, Miss McKinnon, Miss Fortescue. What are you doing here?’ ‘Visiting professor. Madam Pomfrey said we could for a minute,’ Marlene said. ‘I don’t doubt she did but it’s nearly time for lessons,’ McGonagall said, her words not an outright command but enough that it suggested they should vacate the ward at once. ‘There’s ten minutes yet,’ Lily said in a tone so unlike her it made everyone pause. After all it wasn’t every day Lily Evans refused the instructions of a teacher. ‘Ten minutes is just enough time for you to get to your lessons on time then, isn’t it?’ McGonagall said with an air of finality. That seemed to be enough to make whatever defiance Lily had been feeling to go and sensing defeat the three girls nodded and clambered off the bed and towards the screens. Though just before she left Lily paused, that fire an ember it seemed as she said firmly, ‘we’ll come back later.’

As she disappeared in search of the others McGonagall’s gaze fell on Daisy as did Dumbledore’s and she felt herself shrink back into the pillow, the story Sirius had told her swirling in her brain though she was sure she was going to mess it up. McGonagall cleared her throat and moved further up the side of the bed throwing Daisy a reassuring smile though it didn’t make the teen feel any better.

‘Miss Evans, I trust you understand why Professor Dumbledore and I have come to speak to you today,’ she said. Daisy nodded. ‘Yes Professor,’ Daisy replied in an almost whisper. ‘And you understand the severity of the situation?’ again Daisy nodded, ‘right then. Now, under… normal circumstances we would want to speak to you somewhere private but seeing as you’re confined to your bed this will have to do. We’re going to ask you about the events of the evening of Halloween first and foremost and then follow up with a few questions, okay?’ ‘Yeah,’ Daisy mumbled. ‘You may begin,’ Dumbledore said, his blue eyes watching her intently over his half-moon spectacles causing nerves to bubble inside her. ‘Well, on Halloween we came downstairs and saw Remus leaving the castle,’ Daisy started. ‘With myself?’ McGonagall asked. ‘Yes,’ Daisy said, ‘and we, Severus and I, wondered where he was going so we followed him and he went to the whomping willow….and then we followed him in there and we ended up in the shrieking shack. James, Sirius and Peter had seen us follow him so had followed us because they knew about Remus’…condition. They knew we were in trouble but it was too late. I got thrown down the stairs and they pulled us out and that’s all I know.’ ‘You had no idea that Mr Lupin was afflicted in the way that he is?’ Dumbledore said. ‘No Professor. Honestly, I think Sev, Snape, knew but he wanted me to come with him to back him up…I just thought they were up to no good,’ she said. ‘Well I hope you understand how meddling doesn’t often get you anywhere good,’ McGonagall said. Daisy nodded guiltily. ‘I hasten to add Miss Evans,’ McGonagall said, ‘that what you have found out about Mr Lupin is a very delicate matter. If it were to be known to the school then-’ ‘I wouldn’t say anything,’ Daisy interrupted, ‘I wouldn’t do that to Remus. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to get him-’ ‘That’s quite understood Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, stopping her ranting. Daisy smiled weakly and nodded at the headmaster. ‘Mr Snape also knows to keep the revelation to himself. We ask you to take the same action,’ McGonagall said. ‘Of course Professor,’ Daisy said. McGonagall nodded curtly as did Dumbledore before the pair said their goodbyes and left Daisy alone with her thoughts.

From what she could tell the whole school knew about her Halloween adventure and now she was forbidden to talk about what actually happened which made her groan. It was going to be torture.

✵✵✵

Daisy was exhausted. Throughout the day she had been visited by hordes of people some of which she was happy to see, like Marlene, Alice and Lily who had popped back at lunch, but the rest had been people she hadn’t even considered friends though she figured they were only trying to get intel from her. Yet the only people she truly wanted to speak to hadn’t been by and at that Daisy couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It was eight o’clock and she had yet to see James, Sirius, Remus or Peter appear at her bedside.

‘They’re happy you covered for them, why would they care now,’ the nagging voice in her brain whispered. It was an idea that had been popping up whenever the curtain had twitched and they’d failed to appear from behind it. It came back now as the screens moved though it was Lily this time and she was alone. Whilst it wasn’t who she had been waiting for she wasn’t disappointed and shuffled her legs out of the way so that Lily could perch on the end which she did so gently, her green eyes watching her sister with concern.

‘Hey Lil,’ Daisy said. ‘Hey, Lil?’ Lily said angrily, ‘that’s all you have to say to me?’ ‘What do you want me to say?’ Daisy asked the happiness upon seeing her sister quickly fading as she watched her face and realised this wasn’t like the previous visit. No, Lily was here to give her a piece of her mind. ‘I’ve been worried sick! I’ve hardly slept or eaten for the past two days because I’ve had no idea what’s been going on with you and now you’re greeting me like it’s fine-’ ‘Okay sorry!’ Daisy sighed, hoping that an apology would stop her from steaming ahead. Even with her revolving door of visitors she had managed to do some thinking and was racked with enough guilt about it all without her sister giving her a helping hand. ‘Sorry isn’t good enough! Mum and Dad were frantic! Everyone’s talking about you and Sev won’t tell me anything! All I know is that it has something to do with Potter and his cronies! Well, they’ve gone too far this time almost getting you killed-’ ‘They didn’t do anything. It was my own fault. And Sev’s,’ Daisy said suddenly feeling defensive of the boys even more so as Lily said, ‘how can you blame Sev?’ ‘Because he took me to the danger knowing it was unsafe and I followed him cluelessly! I shouldn’t have even got involved so it’s my fault for going!’ Daisy snapped. ‘Going where?!’ Lily said exasperatedly and at that Daisy faltered. She knew it wasn’t fair to keep her sister in the dark but this whole thing revolved around a secret that wasn’t hers to tell. ‘Look I can’t tell you the logistics of everything, don’t, Dumbledore has told me I can’t,’ she said seeing her sister’s attempt at interjecting, ‘but I can tell you this. If it weren’t for James Potter and Sirius Black I would be dead. And as much as you don’t like them I hope that you can forgive them at least that…because I have.’ ‘Oh so you’re best mates now?’ Lily scoffed. ‘No,’ Daisy said, ‘but I’ve realised that friendship isn’t lying to your friends to get them to do what you want. And that’s what Snape did-’ ‘So you’re not Sev’s friend now?’ Lily asked in disbelief. ‘I’m not the friend of people who would be so cruel to others,’ Daisy said, shivering at the gleeful way he had tried to get them to admit to what Remus was. At how he had known, even before they had gone down to the shrieking shack about what might occur there and he had been too blinded by hatred to see anything wrong with approaching the danger. ‘But you’ll be friends with Potter,’ Lily said. Daisy paused, was she friends with James? She wasn’t sure about that yet but as annoying as he had been the way they had acted to help her, to help Remus, there was no way she could hate him now. And if anything her petty grievances now seemed insignificant in the scheme of things. ‘He’s not as bad as you think trust me,’ Daisy said placing her hand on the back of Lily’s in the hopes she’d at least consider what she was saying. She knew it would be hard, especially without all the facts but she hoped she’d listen. Fortunately for Daisy it looked as though her sister was going to as she nodded curtly, whatever had been bubbling inside her to say disappearing behind her eyes.

‘Okay fine. I’m not saying I’m in love with the idea of you and Potter being pals from now…but if you say he and Black saved your life I suppose I can’t be angry at that,’ Lily conceded. ‘Thank you,’ Daisy said breathing a sigh of relief though she grew tense again as Lily dropped her gaze whatever she had been holding back evidently bubbling back to the surface as she asked, ‘can you really not be friends with Sev?’

Daisy stared at her, watching as she kept her eyes on the stone floor beneath her feet, something Daisy thanked god for as she was sure the look on her face was something to behold. Daisy’s mind went over James’ words. They disliked Snape but he loathed them so much so that he was willing to ruin Remus’ life. It was cold. Callous. And if he would stoop that low what else would he do? Not to mention even if Remus hadn’t had been a wolf he’d still brought her into a situation anticipating that she’d be in danger. In fact he’d probably been hoping Remus would hurt her after all that would only add to his cause right? Daisy shuddered to think.

‘I don’t think so,’ Daisy said unevenly. It wasn’t an outright refusal, she didn’t think her sister could cope with that blow just yet, but it was enough to know that things weren’t likely to get better. Fortunately Lily seemed to accept her decision without trying to convince her otherwise and she nodded though the disappointment was evident on her face. However, it wasn’t as though she could say anything anyway as before she could speak there was the sound of more people in the hospital wing, coming towards them in a loud and raucous manner. The boys. Lily rolled her eyes as they appeared from behind the screens, which had done nothing to fend off her visitors all day.

‘Hey you’re up,’ James said with a beaming smile which he offered to Lily as he said, ‘hey Evans.’ ‘Potter,’ Lily said as James perched on the end of the bed next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders which she immediately slid out from under moving towards Daisy. Peter had perched himself in one of the chairs at the end of her bed whilst Sirius hovered by her table though to her disappointment Remus was nowhere to be seen. ‘How are you feeling?’ Peter asked as he helped himself to the jellybeans that had been gifted to her and were now in a pile of presents on her table. ‘Alright,’ Daisy shrugged. ‘That’s good to hear,’ James said. ‘I think I’ll leave you be. You look like you’ve got enough visitors,’ Lily said talking over the end of James’ sentence. Daisy nodded, ‘see you tomorrow?’ ‘Yeah,’ she said leaning in to hug her sister as if reigning her superiority over the boys, ‘be sure to write to mum and dad. So they know you’re okay.’ ‘Will do,’ Daisy said, trying to ignore the guilt that niggled at her again, not only about her parents but about the fact she kind of wanted her sister to leave so that she could talk to the boys properly. Lily gave her a small smile and then left her makeshift bed area, pushing past Sirius as she went. James raised his eyebrows in awe.

‘Feisty one your sister,’ he said. ‘And she’s the restrained one,’ Daisy said unthinkingly. Sirius chuckled, making her blush. ‘Now that I’d like to see,’ James said. ‘I thought you already had? I mean isn’t that how I ended up with all this,’ she said gesturing to her various wounds and bandages. ‘And here is me thinking that was just sheer stupidity,’ James said. ‘A girl can have both,’ Daisy said. The group fell quiet for a moment before Daisy felt the urge to say something.

‘So…how are all the hordes of fans doing? You know, the girls that are so excited to hear of how gallantly brave you’ve all been saving my life and whatnot,’ Daisy said, her eyes on James who had put his arms on the bed, leaning back on them as if he was hanging out in his bedroom and not visiting a girl who had been near death's door not forty-eight hours ago in hospital. ‘Oh it’s been hard to walk through the halls right Pads,’ James mused. ‘Oh yeah, I’ve had to buy another quill I’ve signed so many autographs,’ Sirius chuckled. ‘I’ve taken to just giving out hugs. I think I’m on number six hundred and forty-eight,’ Peter added. Daisy giggled. ‘But for real?’ she asked, for once enjoying their banter much to her surprise. ‘It’s been okay. People talk, they always do, but no one knows what actually happened so it’s all good,’ James said reassuringly, his hand moving to pat her thigh over the cover for a second. ‘Good because you know I wasn’t trying to get Remus into trouble right?’ she said. ‘We know,’ Sirius said firmly. ‘Pads said you were worried about that. We know you didn’t know about his…furry little problem,’ James said. Daisy chuckled at his analogy.

‘So he’s not mad at me?’ Daisy said with hope, hope that was dashed as the boys shared a look she didn’t miss. It made her heart sink, ‘oh.’ ‘He doesn’t hate you,’ Sirius said coming towards her. His tone was sympathetic though Daisy didn’t believe his words. ‘No? Then why didn’t he come?’ she reasoned. She didn’t blame him of course, how could she? People with lycanthropy weren’t exactly accepted in the wizarding world and he thought she had wanted out him. ‘He’s concerned,’ Peter said. ‘Concerned that you’ll not like him now that you know what he is,’ James finished. ‘Especially given,’ Sirius gestured at Daisy’s abdomen which twinged as soon as she remembered the wounds that were there. ‘What? That’s ridiculous,’ she baulked. Her not like him? How could he think that? ‘That’s Moony,’ Sirius said. Daisy looked at him confused. ‘What Sirius means is that Remus has a tendency to think everyone will despise him because most of the time people’s perception towards people like him isn’t well…accepting,’ James said. ‘So he thinks that’s me?’ she said. ‘He thinks that’s everyone,’ James replied reaching out to put a reassuring hand on the back of hers, ‘it took two years for us to convince him that we could be trusted enough to know and that we don’t care about his condition.’ ‘That’s why you learned to be anamagi?’ she asked. ‘Maybe don’t shout it from the rooftops Dais,’ Sirius said glancing at the ajar curtain behind them, ‘but yeah.’ ‘That’s sweet,’ she said with an admiration that made the boys wince as if she had just insulted them. The looks on their faces made her giggle and upon hearing her elegant laughter James broke into a grin followed by Sirius and Peter and pretty soon they were all laughing for no reason.

‘Can’t you convince him to come and see me?’ she asked hopefully once they composed themselves. ‘I don’t think so,’ Peter said. ‘It’s just he feels so guilty about you getting hurt,’ James explained. ‘But it was my fault!’ Daisy argued. ‘Who’s at fault is of no issue now but Remus isn’t just going to accept it. He already thinks he’s bad enough this has just added fuel to the fire,’ Sirius said truthfully. Daisy pondered his words for a moment before she said. ‘Then I want to see him,’ she said adamantly. ‘I mean we can try and coax him to come,’ Peter said rubbing the back of his neck as she looked at him. ‘No, I mean tonight,’ she said. ‘Dais, I don’t think,’ Sirius said but she was already ignoring him and trying to get out of bed. She managed to get one foot on the floor before her leg gave way and James had to swoop in and stop her from falling. Sirius also rushed to help, propping her other side up as they pushed her back into a sitting position, each of them sat by her side and Peter hovering nearby just in case. It had been a stupid move she could tell that now from the way a ragged pain ripped through her chest and a throb came to her ankle that hadn’t been there before. She could also tell from the way the three of them were watching her with concern.

‘Daisy I think you should get back in bed,’ James said. Peter mumbled an agreement. ‘What happened to you lot being rule breakers?’ she said through panted breaths. ‘Yeah well there’s rule-breaking and letting you break another ankle,’ Sirius said tightly. ‘Look,’ she said looking at them pointedly, ‘I’m going to see Remus tonight whether the three of you help me or not. So you can either stand there and watch me army crawl along this cold stone floor, which I will, or you can figure out a way of helping me find Remus so I can speak to him.’

They shared another look before finally, James nodded. Sirius looked livid but didn’t say anything as they helped her to bed and started diving into how they would get her up to their dormitory without being spotted. If Daisy had worries about becoming their friends the boys didn’t know what to expect.

✵✵✵

Remus couldn’t sleep. In fact, he couldn’t do much of anything. If the full moon hadn’t taken it out of him then the news of what he’d done to Daisy had been enough to send him over the edge so much so that he’d marched straight to the headmaster’s office and demanded to be expelled. Dumbledore had refused much to his dismay. So he’d asked for detentions, another request denied. He’d even tried to punish himself by telling the boys they should no longer be friends with him only for them to assure him that there was no getting rid of them that easily and that he was their friend whether he liked it or not.

He didn’t deserve that, friends like them. He didn’t deserve to be here with students he was a risk to.

He didn’t deserve anything.

And the more the boys tried to convince him he did the worse he felt with the pangs only guilt only amplified when they’d told him they were headed to the hospital wing to visit Daisy. He had refused to go, fearing how the guilt that was already gnawing at him would likely engulf him the moment he saw her lying in that bed. When they left he had tried to read or do some homework but he couldn’t concentrate. So, he gave up and crawled into bed though it was still early, and now he couldn’t sleep.

He closed his eyes for the seventieth time and tried to drift off but it didn’t work yet before he could admit defeat he was forced to open them anyway as a clatter and a bang echoed around the draughty dormitory as the door swung open and four bodies fell inside in a heap.

‘You’re on my leg,’ groaned Peter from underneath Sirius. ‘Yeah well I��ve got James’ arse in my face,’ he replied. ‘Um guys a little help,’ came a distinctly more feminine voice from the pile. Whilst the boys clambered up and out from under the bits of the cloak that was still covering them Remus got up trying to figure out who was with them only to find Daisy sitting on the floor, her legs around Sirius’ waist from where he had carried her through Hogwarts, a wince on her face as Sirius started to move. Remus felt a surge of anguish course through him as his eyes fell on the casts she was sporting and the dark purple bruises that littered her face.

‘What are you doing?’ he said coming closer as Sirius turned to help Daisy up off the floor with Peter grabbing her other side so that they could pull her up between them. ‘We’ve brought you a visitor,’ James said, not bothering to help the other boys as they hobbled Daisy onto the trunk at the end of his bed so that she could perch on it. ‘I can see that, why?’ Remus said a bit too harshly. ‘Oh charming,’ Daisy said. ‘She wanted to see you,’ Sirius said as if it were self-explanatory. ‘I said I didn’t want to come!’ Remus protested. ‘And I think that that’s silly,’ Daisy replied. As Remus went to interject, no doubt to give her a spiel about not deserving her forgiveness or to insist she never put herself in his vicinity again she cut him off, announcing with a sternness that rivalled that of her twin’s, ‘look your friends have just carried my incapacitated self up and down several flights of stairs so I can get what I want to say off my chest. And instead of moping, you’re going to sit your arse down and listen to me okay?’

All four boys watched her in amazement.

‘Now would you just sit down…please,’ she said gesturing to the trunk opposite her. Remus hesitated, looking at his friends who were of no help at all, the three of them offering simple shrugs in return to his pleading eyes, before he conceded and followed her instructions. Once he was sat down James, Sirius and Peter took a seat on the beds nearest the door watching the interaction intently. ‘Right,’ Daisy said suddenly feeling self-conscious now that all eyes were on her, ‘well, first off I want to say I’m sorry. Sorry for interfering in your business. I had no idea about your…’ ‘Furry little problem,’ James interjected, making Daisy smile. ‘Yeah, that. I didn’t go to the shack that night to get you outed to the world even though that seems to have been Sev-Snape’s motive. But that’s not me okay?’ she said. Remus nodded, ‘I just thought you were up to no good and like I said to Sirius I wanted you lot to have a taste of your own medicine but it didn’t go to plan.’ ‘That’s an understatement,’ Remus mumbled causing a wave of guilt to flow through her. As bad as she felt he somehow looked worse. She may have had broken bones, cuts and bruises but Remus seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, the guilt of what had happened making the six foot something boy seem as small as she was. Which is why she had known she was right to come up here. ‘I know. That’s actually the other point I wanted to make,’ Daisy said, pausing to make sure he was looking at her before she continued, ‘I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened. You can’t help being what you are but I sure as hell can help being an absolute idiot and searching out danger-’ ‘But you almost died!’ Remus said. ‘A little pain for a few weeks versus a lifetime of suffering? I know which affliction I’d pick,’ she said offering him a sad smile. ‘You really aren’t mad at me are you?’ he asked perplexed. ‘I’m madder at myself for being so stupid but no, I’m not mad at you,’ she said quietly. Remus watched her, trying to see if he could sniff out any whiff of her lying but there was nothing there. And his hope to have any one on his side in this matter dimmed as his eyes drifted past her to where the boys were sitting and Sirius mouthed, ‘told you.’

‘So what now?’ Remus asked Daisy trying to force the guilt inside him down now that he could see there was no winning. Daisy sighed, ‘we try to navigate all the attention together I hope? Because I’ve already promised I’m not going to say anything but from the number of visitors I’ve had today I think I might need reinforcements when it comes to fending them off myself.’ ‘Especially on that broken leg,’ James said. ‘We could just form a defence around her with us in front who’s gonna be paying attention to her?’ Sirius quipped. ‘Girls do dig scars right,’ James said gesturing to his lip which was half recovered though still busted from his fight with Snape. ‘You wish. I’ve had more boys checking up on me today than I ever had,’ Daisy ribbed making the boys laugh. ‘So that’s sorted then yeah?’ James said coming over to the trunk Daisy was still perched on. ‘Sorted?’ she asked. ‘We’re like friends now I guess?’ James said, his hazel eyes watching her closely. Daisy glanced at the four of them before she nodded slowly and said, ‘yeah I guess we are.’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@maeisafangirl @mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

[snowberry33]

just one night.

Kayn/Akali -- 1,251 words, 1/2 chapters

Warnings/tags: modern/college au, established relationship, comfort/no hurt, drinking

Akali thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get one night without her boyfriend doing something stupid and pulling on her leg to help him get out of it. She was proven wrong when her phone started vibrating at two in the morning.

Modern/College AU scenario where Kayn gets super drunk with his friends and Akali has to rescue him.

It's been 84 years but here I am. A new bi4bi m/f ship has caught my attention and now you all have to suffer through it. If you follow me on Twitter (@/creeperpit) you know I have been on my Kayn agenda for a while and I believe he is a pathetic little man who deserves love. If you disagree you are wrong.

AO3 LINK

The interruption to her sleep annoyed her enough. But if he was calling this late, it must’ve been for a reason—which became abundantly clear when his slurred speech came over the speakers.

“Heyyyyyy,” 

Akali is too tired to hide her exasperation with this man. “What’s going on?”

“I’m kinda… very… very drunk right now,” he says slowly, like he isn’t sure what he’s saying, which checks out. When she listens closely, she can make out faint party music and men speaking over each other in the background.

Of course. It’s a Friday night, and he’s a 21-year-old guy in his first year of college.

“How much did you drink?”

There’s a silence—at least, a pause. Not a single thing on the other end of the line is silent —before Kayn answers her. “...All of it?”

“What?”

“I don’t know!” he shouts, pauses, then readjusts his volume. “There were shots, and they gave me shots, so I drank them, and then there were no more shots.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Nakuri said it would be fun.” his voice turns quieter, like a toddler being scolded for coloring on the walls.

“Nakuri’s an idiot.” 

An old highschool friend of Kayn’s that followed him into the same university. Akali’s met him once or twice, enough times to form the impression that he wasn’t nearly the star student his friend was, and she’s heard enough notable stories to confirm it. 

From the other end of the line, Kayn doesn’t answer except for a murmur that sounds vaguely like an agreement. His quiet tone brings to her attention the sounds of frat boy shenanigans; they’re far away, muffled, like he’s tucked himself in some remote corner of the house to have a safe place to call her.

Akali sits up in her tiny twin bed, rubs the remnants of sleep out of her eyes, and sighs. “Do I have to rescue you?”

The words are sarcastic, as they usually are, but they carry a weight of sincerity with them. As lacking in sense as he may be, she still loves him, for some reason, and wouldn’t want him to be miserable in an unfamiliar place. Even if he fails to properly communicate that, as showed by his long sigh and simple, resigned, “Yeah”

“Alright. Give me a few.” she breathes out before proceeding to scavenge for the most readily available outfit, something that really says ‘I’m just here to pick up my drunk boyfriend, if you look at me I will seriously murder you’ and, really, just serves to cover her better than the sports bra she wears to bed. “Don’t fall asleep there, alright?”

Kayn gives a mumbled confirmation, and that’s all she needs before she’s grabbed her keys and on the road to his campus.

The effort she puts in for this man.

After the fairly lengthy drive between Akali’s apartment and the frat house Kayn had found himself in, she had to drag him out of a bathroom and through the crowd of people to get him into her car. But once he was there, he hadn’t fussed; they made it back with no problem, and no one tried to hit on her while she was there. 

Overall, she’d call the mission a success.

With an exhausted sigh, Akali hangs her keys while Kayn stumbles to keep himself on his feet. She has to stop him from stripping his shirt off in the doorway after murmuring something about being ‘hot as hell’ and leads him to her room instead. Kai wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she found him passed out on the couch.

He’s already sprawled over her bed by the time she finishes dressing down again and nudges him over, only to receive a stubborn whine in return. She lets out a huff and shoves him with all of her exhausted so she can climb in. And as soon as she’s even got half of her body on the mattress, Kayn rolls onto her and nuzzles his head in her neck, lazily mouthing at her skin and leaving a light pink mark there. 

Akali tilts his chin up and runs a hand through his hair, a welcome touch that he melts into before leaning up for a kiss, which she gives to him gladly. The taste of alcohol shocks her a bit—stronger than she expected, but she doesn’t mind. Even if his kisses are sloppy and the taste burns, his lips are soft, and he surely doesn’t lack for enthusiasm with his hands wandering up her sides, wrapping around her waist before he pulls away with a stupidly blissful smile and presses his forehead to hers.

“You are so pretty,” he slurs while he struggles to keep his own head up—and fails, burying his face back into the crook of her neck, trailing kisses along her shoulder with light grazes of his teeth. 

Akali laughs and runs her hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp, like petting a cat. “Hey, easy.”

He groans in complaint, but the soft touches ease him as he nestles into her, and his breathing slows to a steady, comfortable pace. Probably the most peaceful she’s ever seen him. As soon as she’s almost sure that he’s asleep, he murmurs against her skin—although the words are barely comprehensible.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” she whispers, with a kiss pressed to his shoulder. “I wasn’t gonna leave you with a bunch of drunk college dudes.”

He breathes in deep, takes in her scent, and sighs it back out as absolute satisfaction, warmth on her neck. She can feel him smile. This time, when he speaks, it’s much quieter, slurred together, but it’s something she’s heard from him so many times she knows it just from the movement of his lips; “I love you.”

“I know.”

“So much.”

“I know, honey.” Akali says, barely a whisper. His warmth and weight and the feeling of his heart beating against hers softens her. She lets herself sink into the moment. The sound of both their breathing washes over her. 

In the morning, he’ll probably be gone. She’ll drive him back up to his campus where he has a place, other friends, and something to make out of himself. She’ll see him off and he’ll give her the same smile he always does, warm and humorous and only slightly oblivious, and she’ll act like it doesn’t ache to see him go where she has no idea what he could do or who he could talk to until the next night like this where he calls for her rescue. 

But he called her, didn’t he? Amid his new life without her, where he probably had plenty of people to bring him home, he thought of her first. That’s enough for her to set her worries aside for now.

For now, it’s just them. Him at his most vulnerable, and her more so than she’ll ever let on.

She can’t help the way her voice wavers as she wraps her arms tight around him and mutters back into his shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey

Words: 3177

Prompt: @steodiscord Steo Spooktober Scare Dare, I wanted to do more, but here we are.

Ao3 link Masterlist

There's No Such Thing as Werewolves

---

There’s few things in life that Stiles can say no to. A dare certainly isn’t one of them. In fact, that’s a guarantee to make sure Stiles does something. His best friend Isaac daring him to walk through the preserve alone with nothing but a flashlight wasn’t going to scare him off. Stiles can’t turn down a challenge. Plenty of teenagers have done it. Hell, it’s almost something of a tradition in Beacon Hills. Kids daring their friends to take a moonlight stroll. 

Because there’s something different about the woods in his town. Supposedly, it’s full of feral supernatural creatures like werewolves and coyotes. While Stiles has never seen any for himself, his father has gotten plenty of calls at the station about it. Snarling sounds and four-legged creatures with glowing eyes chasing them. His dad mostly thought they were prank calls. But eventually enough parents raised a fuss about it that the preserve is now off limits at night. 

Good thing Stiles doesn’t plan on getting caught. He’s going to waltz through the preserve until Isaac tells him to stop. And since he has no sense of direction during the day, Stiles is going to use his phone’s GPS to get back out. He also can’t wait to shove it in Isaac’s face that there’s no such thing as werewolves. His best friend swears up and down that he saw red, glowing eyes when Jackson made him go over the summer. 

Stiles is a logical being, he knows that most animal’s eyes reflect light when it’s dark, making it appear like they’re glowing. Filled with anxiety and adrenaline, Isaac probably only thought they were red. Just fear messing with your brain and making you see things that aren’t there. It makes sense. It’s logical. 

Occam’s Razor, the simplest explanation is often the right one. 

“So how long do I have to do this for?” Stiles asks, getting out of the passenger seat. 

“Why?” Isaac’s head pops up above the car. Leaning on the roof, he drums his hands, “scared already?” 

Stiles couldn’t roll his eyes harder if he tried, “no, jackass. I’m not scared. I would like to make it home before my dad does.”

The cheeky grin on his best friend’s face falls a bit, “okay, yeah. That’s a fair point. I’ll check on you in an hour. That’ll give you enough time in there and plenty to get home.” Isaac gives him a look that he can’t quite read. Almost weary. “Watch your step,” his best friend offers before disappearing back into his car. 

If you’re going to be all worried about it now, maybe you shouldn’t have dared him in the first place. With a sigh, Stiles checks his phone, the digital numbers telling him it’s eleven-fifteen. His father should be home somewhere around two. Time to get this over with. Tapping the button on the screen, Stiles turns on his flashlight and steps into the preserve. It’s quieter than he thought it’d be. Then again, if some giant beast with a beam of light was trampling through his home, Stiles would cease all movement and sound too. He walks on a little mindful of where he steps in case there’s an actual animal trying to sleep. 

Three times. 

Stiles has nearly killed himself tripping over a root three fucking times. The light from his phone is only doing so much and the full moon isn’t making it through the thick trees. Fuck the streetlights, he stopped seeing light from that who knows how far back. Forget the werewolves, if Stiles dies tonight, it’s going to be from his severe lack of coordination. This was such a stupid idea. Luckily, his GPS will be able to lead him back because retracing his steps is going to be next to impossible. 

A racoon darts in front of him. “Jesus!” Stiles shrieks, nearly dropping his phone on the ground when he jumps. He laughs to himself, palm on his chest as he tries to calm his heart. It was just a fucking racooon. Racoons are normal to see at nighttime. Man, he’s gotta get a grip on himself. 

Checking his phone again, Stiles notices two things. One, it’s now midnight. His hour is almost up. Which is great because if he almost kisses one more fucking spider, he’s going to freak out. The second makes him groan in annoyance. A great big, red ‘x’ where his signal bars should be stares him in the face. It’s a good thing Isaac told him how long because it’s not like Stiles can get or make calls right now. 

“Fucking fantastic,” Stiles grumbles to himself. Fuck this, he shines his light around trying to figure out if he should keep going. No. He’s heading back. With no service, if Stiles gets hurt, he’s fucked. His father will definitely kill him if he gets hurt over a fucking dare. Turning on his heel, Stiles scrolls through his phone to pull up his GPS so he can get the hell out of here. 

Not thinking about it, when the page opens, it doesn’t load. “Fuck,” he draws out the worn on a groan, hanging his head back. “Of course the GPS won’t work. There’s no signal, dumbass.” Stiles curses to himself again, stomping- hopefully- back the way he came. Maybe if he gets back far enough, he’ll pick up signal again. Especially because after a minute or two of walking, an uncomfortable shiver works its way down his spine. 

He’s being watched. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stiles scoffs, “nothing is out here but pissed off squirrels because you woke them up.” A twig snaps behind him. Stiles pauses for the smallest of seconds. Hair rises on the back of his neck. He doesn’t like this at all. Stiles walks a little faster, “nope. Not about to get impaled by a deer for you, Is. If I got too close to your family, I’m sorry,” he says as though the animal will understand. “I didn’t mean to. I just can’t see shit.” Maybe it’s mostly to calm his nerves from irrational thought. 

Another twig snaps and something snarls.

Deer definitely don’t make that sound. 

Fear freezes Stiles’ body in place despite his brain screaming at him to run. The sound happens again. A bit softer this time. More like a growled warning. No idea how he knows that except that he just does. Stiles gets the scary feeling that if he takes another step, he’s dead. But he can’t just not move. So against his better judgment- maybe some part of him wants to see if he can fight it off or outrun it- Stiles slowly turns around. No sudden movements, just carefully see- a black wolf with red glowing eyes is staring right at him. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles shouts, turning and running in the other direction. 

A vicious roar sounds off behind him, vibrating his chest. That shouldn’t be that loud. That should not be that fucking loud. His lungs ache, burn in their desperate attempt to keep him moving. To get Stiles away from the danger that is undoubtedly getting closer. He can feel it breathing down his neck. That also shouldn’t be possible. 

If Jackson could see him now. Running blindly through the dark faster than ever and not falling over. He’d make first line for sure. 

The wolf nips at his heel. Not enough to hurt; another warning. How does he just know this? The action was enough to spook him though, causing Stiles to lose his balance. Tumbling face first into the dirt with a hard thud. He groans, spitting out dirt and rubbing his nose. He’s going to die. Stiles is going to die because of a stupid dare. There’s no chance to scramble to his feet to try and run away again. The wolf has a hold of his ankle. Sharp fangs simply prevent escape, they’re not even breaking skin. 

When it lets go, the wolf snorts, nudging Stiles’ leg. When he doesn’t move, the wolf does it again, clear in its intention for him to roll over. He shouldn’t. Stiles is more than aware that he shouldn’t. Wiping the dirt from his chin, he rolls onto his back. No sooner is he flat against the earth is the wolf on top of him. Towering over him with a paw on either side of Stiles’ face, fully encasing his body. 

Without the help of his phone, that fell who knows where, the only thing Stiles can really see are the scarlet orbs watching him. The branches of the trees are a little more sparse, so some moonlight trickles through. It’s not nearly enough. All he can properly make out are those eyes just observing him. Why is the wolf just looking at him? Shouldn’t it be eating him by now? His heart is making a valiant attempt at escaping his chest currently. Stiles doesn’t have the first clue what he’s supposed to do. 

He wiggles, just a tiny bit, only trying to get the twig that’s digging into his spine to move so that he can think straight. Which was exactly the wrong thing to do. The wolf snarls, fangs wrapping around Stiles’ throat, breaking the skin just a touch. Enough that it stings. Frozen. Stiles freezes on the spot. Other than the small tremors of fear wracking his frame, Stiles doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t even breathe. He falls completely pliant to the wolf. 

He’s so fucked. 

But the wolf, seemingly satisfied with the submission, releases him at least. Rearing its head back, it howls at the sky. Stiles hasn’t the slightest idea what that could mean. But it can’t be good. Wolves howl to signal their location to the rest of the pack. Did it just tell the others where to find dinner? 

Oh god. 

The wolf ducks its head, cold nose bumping Stiles’ sweat-slick, hammering pulse. Then it licks him. Long tongue brushing along his skin. “H-Hey,” Stiles swats at the wolf. Yes, because he’s not in enough danger he needs to hit the thing and piss it off. “That’s sweat, not real salt. Stop licking me,” he tries to shove the wolf. Let’s try pushing a brick wall next, probably have better luck. “I- I’m skin and bone,” Stiles tries to reason with the wolf, fully processing his ludicrousness. But he just can’t stop. “I’m not a suitable meal, okay?” 

The licking doesn’t stop and the wolf huffs in a way that almost sounds like an animal trying to laugh. Which is even more ridiculous. But then, the tongue gets shorter, the weight on him heavier as the licks turn to nips and a mouth sucking against his skin. What the- Stiles moans, blunt teeth biting the crook of his neck. 

“Not a meal, sweetheart,” a- very attractive- male’s voice chuckles. Now is really not the time to be thinking about how good his voice is. Stiles’ limbs lock up, working much better than his brain. This can’t be happening. “A mate. Mine,” he rumbles, stubble burning Stiles’ neck.

This isn’t happening. 

Yeah, that’s it. When Stiles fell, he must’ve hit his head too hard and is now unconscious whilst being eaten. That’s totally it. His brain providing some weird dream so he doesn’t feel himself being torn apart. 

Another moan tears through Stiles’ throat. The guy pushing his hips down until Stiles’ legs open. Allowing him to grind his very hard dick against Stiles. 

“Not a dream, sweetheart,” the once wolf mumbles, hands curling into the hem of Stiles’ shirt.

Warm fingers brush his skin and Stiles is painfully aware of the fact that he’s just letting this happen. Fangs graze the crook of his neck, biting into his skin until he feels a little trickle, “no,” Stiles shoves the guy’s chest, surprised when he actually backs off. 

“But I thought- you ran,” he says, like that’s an explanation. 

“Yeah, I ran,” Stiles sits up, scooting back for good measure. His hand comes up to his neck, grateful that there’s only a little wetness to his fingers. “A wolf was trying to eat me, of course I ran. I was terrified! You snuck up on me.” His eyes have mostly adjusted to the dark. Not enough to see completely, but he can more or less make out the guy- the very naked guy- across from him. The shadows cover the important bits. But not his face, which as gorgeous as it is, looks extremely upset. 

For no reason Stiles can place, he’s put off by the fact that the guy is upset. And the fact that Stiles isn’t more upset that he was bitten hard enough to draw blood. Stiles realizes that he should certainly be more put out about this whole thing. But he has this weird curiosity. More wanting to know what the fuck is going on than he is concerned about his wellbeing. None of it makes any sense, but that’s all Stiles currently has to offer.  

“No, no, I didn’t,” he scoots barely an inch closer. “I snapped that twig so you’d know exactly where I was. You didn’t see me, so I broke another one.” Bangs flop over his eyes when he shakes his head, “I’d never want to scare you, sweetheart.”

“Okay, that too,” Stiles holds a hand up, “I don’t even know your name and yet you keep calling me sweetheart. You don’t know me.” 

The guy takes a deep breath. Not from irritation, like he’s trying to keep himself in control. The ruby color keeps flickering too. “Theo,” he says, hands digging into his thighs in efforts not to move. “My name’s Theo. And you’re my mate.” 

“How do you know what?” Stiles scoffs, “I don’t even know what that means!”

“Think of it like a soulmate. All supernatural creatures know their mates by scent,” Theo explains. “I snapped the twing so that I could shift and talk to you about it. But then you ran,” the word is growled, emphasized by the glowing red color intensifying. Theo shakes his head again.

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t run from a snarling wolf?” Stiles slaps his thighs, utterly exasperated with the other guy’s reaction. “I thought I was going to die!”

“Running is considered an invitation to werewolves,” Theo states. He must see the crickets chirping in Stiles’ brain because the wolf continues, “think of it like a challenge. Someone wanting to see if the other is worthy enough of being their mate by giving chase. Seeing if their mate can catch them.” 

“So me running away-”

“Kicked in every single instinct I have to claim my mate. It’s done with a bite to your neck. And don’t worry, my fangs didn’t go in far enough.” Theo’s nails dig into his thighs again, “but it’s why it’s incredibly hard for me to just sit here while you’re all the way over there-” okay, he’s like two feet away max- “smelling like someone else.” Stiles can’t even begin to unpack that. “It’s even worse because of the full moon. It heightens everything. But, as much as it pisses my wolf off, I’m not going to force you into anything. Just because I’m a werewolf doesn’t mean I’m an animal.” 

Which is very true. Theo listened to him when he said no. But Stiles can’t shake the feeling of wanting to make Theo feel better. Happy. Can’t shake the annoyance that he’s the cause of Theo’s distress. Even more so that given what he’s seen so far, Stiles is inclined to believe him. He’s smart as hell. Stiles isn’t going to ignore evidence when it’s laid out right in front of him. 

“So, does that mean you don’t live out here in the woods?”

“What? No,” Theo almost laughs, finally looking at him again. “I live in town. Graduated early and now I’m working towards getting my degree online. I wanted to be able to stay closer to my pack. Helps the bond.”

Stiles looks at Theo. Really looks at him. He’s very easy on the eyes. Which is a nice bonus to be honest. And he hasn’t really done anything to hurt him. Stiles honestly doesn’t think he could. Which is just another thing. Throughout this entire ordeal, Stiles had had this intuition about everything. Theo warning him proved to be true. Theo trying to keep himself in control was also correct. Almost like Stiles had instincts of his own. 

Meanwhile Theo is consistently fighting his own to ensure Stiles’ comfort and safety. The wolf finally notices that he’s under the microscope, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

With the way Theo is trying so hard not to do something, this is probably a stupid idea. But he’s finding it hard to care. It’s not like his love life has been particularly fruitful. A hot guy telling him that they’re basically meant to be together can’t be all that bad. Right? “I’m Stiles,” he says, extending his hand to shake.

“I’m sorry,” Theo preemptively says, reaching out and yanking Stiles into his lap. Stiles will absolutely deny the way he squawks from the action. Strong arms wrap around his frame, holding him close. Theo tucks his nose under Stiles’ jaw, inhaling his scent deeply while rumbling in his chest. “It’s really hard to control,” the wolf says, fangs grazing the crook of Stiles’ neck. “Just,” Theo takes a controlled breath and his arms loosen, “there,” he says, letting go. 

Stiles doesn’t get up. Rather adjusts himself so he’s not crushing the wolf’s crotch, “it’s okay.” Theo’s head snaps up at his words, arms locking around him again, brows raised. “I’m not saying let’s run away and be mates. But I’m,” Stiles loops his arm over Theo’s shoulder, “I’m saying it’s okay. I mean, you’re pretty hot,” he quirks his brows, hoping humor as a coping mechanism works for the wolf too. 

Theo laughs, resting his forehead in his neck, “I could court you,” the wolf says. Stiles makes a noise that sounds something close to ‘um’ but it was really mostly a noise. “Dating, Stiles. It’s like dating. I won’t go full tradition on you, but,” Theo lifts his head, their noses brushing, “I’d like to court you. Prove that I’m worthy to be your mate.” 

“I think I’d like that,” Stiles says with a smile. 

“It’s for life, you know,” Theo’s hands tighten around his sides, but he’s whispering to, staring at Stiles’ mouth. His excitement is crystal clear, no matter how much the wolf tries to hide it. 

He pulls a face like he’s thinking about it, “we’re basically made for each other, right?” 

Theo nods, “that’s what mates means, yes,” tone teasing and husky. 

“Then yeah,” Stiles bumps their noses together, “I’m saying you can court me.” 

Smiling back, Theo crashes their mouths together. Stiles would’ve gladly reciprocated the kiss had he not been so surprised. The wolf pulls back, “sorry,” gasping for air. 

Just as breathless, Stiles chuckles, “it’s okay,” and seals their mouths together again. 

[izaswritings]

genshin impact fic - spare truths

Title: spare truths

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Synopsis: By all rights Kaeya should want to avoid Albedo and the risk he poses; the problem is that Kaeya has always been fond of danger.

Notes: Kaeya/Albedo, Canon Compliant, Late Night Conversations, Secrets/Foreshadowing, Trust Issues, Identity Reveal (kinda sorta maybe), The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known

AO3 link is here. 

.

There is nothing to blame but circumstances and Kaeya’s own faulty judgement, usually so precise and yet also so prone to impulsive curiosity. It is one of the rare few nights when Kaeya stays and works late at headquarters, when usually he works elsewhere; the candles have burned low and the sky outside his one window has turned a comforting pitch-dark. In this late hour its usually only the night guard and Jean left up wandering the halls, so maybe it’s not that much of a surprise when Jean leans into his office and knocks her hand against the wood-grain of his doorframe.

Kaeya doesn’t look up at her, but he does tap his pen against his papers, mild acknowledgment. “Jean.”  

“Kaeya,” she returns, half-way to fond. “It’s late. You should head back.”

It is so like her, to fuss over his staying late and entirely ignore her own poor sleep schedule. Kaeya smiles at his desk and then lifts his head, amused, leaning forward onto his hand and meeting her gaze with one clear eye. “Jean,” he repeats.

“I only have a few more papers,” she says, well-worn to Kaeya’s usual brand of implied judgement, and Kaeya bites back the urge to laugh. “I—I know, I know. I’ll head back soon too.”

“Mm-hm.”

She narrows her eyes at him, searching, and Kaeya keeps his face blank from sheer force of will. “Hm,” she says.

He does laugh, then, and signs his name under one last paper before pushing away from the desk. “Yes, yes, all right. I’m going.” He takes his sword from where it lies against his desk, then raises an eyebrow. Jean hasn’t yet left. “Oh? Something else?”

“…The light in the research lab is still burning,” she admits, and sighs. “If you could…”

Ah, Kaeya thinks. Albedo. He offers her a smile. “Anything for our dear Acting Grandmaster.”

She smiles back, small and fond. “Thank you. And… good night, Kaeya. See you tomorrow.”

Kaeya clips the sword to his belt, watching her leave; he considers calling out after her, Rest, Jean, or Lisa will have both our heads, but he’s already called her out on it once and if she doesn’t listen to that then no other reminders will sway her. He exits his office and closes the door, and makes a mental note to bring coffee for her tomorrow. 

He locks his office door, pockets the key, and then heads for the labs.

Jean has the right of it: the light is still on, burning dim and golden beneath the shadows of the door. Kaeya knocks once, waits, and then knocks again. Silence.

Well, Kaeya thinks, he did try. He opens the door—unlocked, wonderful, no need for his lock picks, then—and steps inside. “Apologies for the intrusion,” he says, and closes the door behind him.

The lab is well-lit and cluttered, as it always is when Albedo makes his way down from Dragonspine. In the far corner, a slumped figure rests face-down on the desk. The Chief Alchemist himself—blond hair messy and tangled around his face, head only half-cushioned in his arms. His face is blank and empty in sleep. Nearby, the burning candle has overflown, dripping wax on the nearby papers.

But Albedo isn’t alone, and suddenly his uncharacteristic late night makes a lot more sense. Little Klee is curled up on the floor beside Albedo’s desk; a small halo of crayons surrounds her, and papers absolutely scoured with color are scattered at her side. Kaeya’s expression softens to a grin at the sight of her. He can almost see the situation playing out: the stubborn Spark Knight refusing to go to bed just yet, and Albedo too worried to let her go roaming in the dark alone, but too caught up in his work to go with her. And now here they are: both asleep, both dead to the world, candles still burning. They are alike in the funniest of ways.

Of course, Klee and Albedo’s familial relationship is entirely one of circumstance. For all their similar shades of pale blonde, Albedo isn’t really Klee’s brother, even though he acts it. But it is similar, in a way, to the bond that once bound Kaeya to Diluc: family given and found where it wasn’t expected, and even if it wasn’t tied by blood it meant something all the same. There are habits and turns of phrase that Kaeya knows he got from Diluc— quirks of Diluc’s that Kaeya recognizes as his own. Family, be it by blood or choice, has a funny habit of becoming a part of you.

Even now, for all of Diluc’s grudges and all of Kaeya’s grievances—well. He doesn’t think Diluc could ever really stop being his brother, for better or for worse. Too many formative years plotting how to dunk the older boy in a pond whenever he got too annoying. Old habits always die hard.

This memory is almost bitter now, but for all of Kaeya’s sour thoughts, the sight of Klee and Albedo still makes him smile, if wryly. Something about the familiarity of it; something about the way Klee is growing up, already mimicking her “Big Brother Albedo’s” turns of phrase. It is just all so painfully nostalgic. 

Kaeya sits in the memories for a moment more. Then Albedo’s elbow shifts and knocks a stray paper off his desk and onto Klee’s head; Klee mumbles and turns over, now face-flat on the floor. The memory breaks. Kaeya snorts, clicks his tongue, and finally moves to Albedo’s side. 

He is careful to step around Klee and her new paper hat, and just as careful to avoid stepping on her drawings. (She has drawn her bombs, a pond mid-explosion, and a vaguely-human figure with one eye and a lot of blue that is clearly supposed to be Kaeya himself. His heart is practically swollen with fondness.) Klee is dead to the world, which Kaeya expected, and Albedo too doesn’t even stir, which is a little more surprising. Kaeya hums, half in thought. Their Chalk Prince appears to have overworked himself into exhaustion. Oh, dear.

He leans over and presses a hand to Albedo’s shoulder, not wanting to startle him. Kaeya lets it linger there, taking in the warmth and the even rise and fall of Albedo’s breathing, and when Albedo still doesn’t wake, Kaeya shakes him. “Quiet, now,” he says, voice low, when Albedo’s eyelashes flicker. No need to wake up dear Klee, after all. “But do get up. This is no place for a prince to rest, hmm?”

It’s almost fascinating, how little Albedo reacts—he doesn’t even startle, just opens his eyes and sits right up, eyes clear and sharp and scanning the room. Beneath his hand, Kaeya can feel him stiffen, and then, when he sees the room and the candlelight and Klee—and Kaeya—the tension drains out of him, some instinctual fear faded at the sight. Even with Kaeya’s hand still on his shoulder, he is loose and relaxed, utterly at ease. 

Kaeya takes his hand away and steps back.

Albedo is still scanning the lab, brow just the slightest hint furrowed; at that, though, he turns, and those clear eyes fix on Kaeya. Just as sharp, just as calm and as unreadable as ever. Such is Albedo: a mystery even now, seconds after sleep. Kaeya would never have guessed he’d just woken up if he hadn’t seen it himself. 

“Kaeya,” Albedo says. It is half a greeting and half a question, and Albedo’s eyes flicker away before Kaeya can reply, falling on Klee and her scattered artwork. He looks down at her, expression lost in thought. Then he blinks. “Oh. I fell asleep.”

“So it appears,” Kaeya replies, amused, and steps around him to scan the research lab. Best to ask forgiveness than permission, in this case—if given a choice, Albedo rarely leaves the workshop. The trick, then, is to not give him that choice. If Kaeya moves quick enough, and acts as if nothing is odd, perhaps he can bundle Albedo back home before the other Knight realizes he’s been played… 

Ah-ha, Kaeya thinks, there’s the sword. Albedo’s main weapon, halfway across the room and half-lost behind a stack of books. Something about that makes Kaeya’s smile twitch into something more genuine. He has to bite his cheek to keep from grinning.

“Long day?” Kaeya remarks, nodding back at the worktable and Klee, and when Albedo’s gaze drifts back to his desk, Kaeya takes the opportunity to tug the sword free. He eyes the stack of books carefully the whole time. The lab is bad enough as-is; Kaeya has no wish to cause a landslide.

“Somewhat,” Albedo is saying, slowly. “I’d stumbled upon an interesting deviation from a prior experiment, and I hoped to map out all the possible causes…” He trails off, staring down at the desk, and seems to realize for the first time that the candle has overburned. His eyes widen, miniscule. The puddle of melted wax seeps a little further onto the now-ruined papers. “…Ah.”

It is the closest to possible distress—or is it disappointment?—that Kaeya has ever seen from the taciturn alchemist. He heads back over and hands the sword to him; Albedo takes it without comment, though his brow furrows. Hands now free, Kaeya tugs the papers out from the wax puddle and settles them off to the side; the candle he extinguishes with a pinch of his fingers. 

“Tomorrow,” Kaeya says, when Albedo’s eyes stray to his pen. “It’s late. Falling asleep with the light burning—that’s sign enough, is it not?”

Albedo looks annoyed. Kaeya raises an eyebrow back. “Don’t tell me you’re going to make poor Klee sleep on the floor more than she already has,” he adds, mock-scolding, and when Albedo’s eyes narrow, Kaeya smiles back. Got you.

Of course, there’s a simple counter to Kaeya’s words—Kaeya could take Klee back and tuck her in; Barbatos knows she’s effectively taken over the couch in his house. She may be Albedo’s almost-official little sister, but she is equally unofficially everyone else’s little sister too. But Albedo will never say that, and Kaeya knows this, and of course Albedo knows he knows, too. Klee is Alice’s daughter and Alice brought Albedo here; Albedo will never pass Klee off for someone else to take care of, not when he’s perfectly capable.

Sure enough: annoyance flashes across his face, but Albedo’s eyes drop back to Klee. His jaw tightens, and his fingers curl, just a bit—but he doesn’t argue, and Kaeya knows he’s won.

Kaeya offers his hand, a silent olive branch. “I happen to be leaving just now myself. Let’s walk together.”

This is, technically, not what Jean was asking of him. It is also not what Kaeya originally intended to say. The offer slips out, as casual as he pleases, but for a moment, as Albedo looks over to him and falls silent, considering, Kaeya is as startled as Albedo is not.

Still, Kaeya is nothing if not adaptable. He smiles instead of faltering, and keeps his hand where it is—outstretched, waiting for an answer.

“…Very well,” Albedo says, and even though there is no real logical reason for him to do so, he takes Kaeya’s hand and lets him pull Albedo to his feet. 

Kaeya smiles and makes to pull away, but Albedo lingers—just for a moment, a half-beat too long, fingers tight around Kaeya’s hand and his eyes searching—before the alchemist shakes his head and finally lets go. Kaeya steps out of his way, and Albedo kneels down to gather Klee up in his arms. The little girl is all mumbling nonsense and dead weight, and Albedo maneuvers her with the ease of long practice, making sure her arms are looped around his neck for better support. Klee snuggles into his shoulder without protest; Kaeya doesn’t think she’s woken up at all. 

How cute. Kaeya crouches down and gathers up Albedo’s stray research paper and Klee’s drawings, papers in one hand and her pens in the other. He places the research paper up high, away from the cooling candle wax; the drawings he settles in a neat pile by the side, the pens laid out in a rainbow. When he steps away, satisfied with his work, Albedo is looking at him again. 

Kaeya raises an eyebrow at him. “Hm? Something on my face?”

“…No.” Albedo turns away, heading for the door. His voice is quiet, half-under his breath. “Sometimes you, too…”

Kaeya follows after him. “Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Now now, it’s rude to leave someone hanging.”

They’re in the hall now; Kaeya pinches out the last candle by the exit and shuts the door secure behind him. Albedo casts him a careful side-eye. “It is nothing,” he repeats, mild. “Just… sometimes you, too, are a mystery.”

“How so?” Kaeya wonders. “I like to think I’m perfectly honest.”

Even Jean would smile at him for that one; Albedo turns his face away, but not before Kaeya sees his lips twitch. “That is one of the worst lies you have told me.”

“As opposed to other lies? My, how rude. I don’t think those ones really count. They’re more for entertainment than honestly meant, after all…”

Albedo has started off down the hall again. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The same dry tone, but ah, that was almost a glimpse of humor there. Kaeya’s smile widens, briefly and truly amused, and then he gets his expression under control and follows after him. How fortuitous. Albedo is out of the lab and Kaeya didn’t even have to properly bribe him to do it. Now if only he could figure out a fix for Jean… 

It’s a cold night—Mondstadt is always a fair bit chilly, what with the constant winds and all, but the breeze blowing through this eve has a distinctly winter tint. The stars have clouded over, and even the moonlight has dimmed; the streets are shadowy and all the more chill with it, the cold seeping into the stone. Albedo doesn’t even twitch—all that time in Dragonspine, no doubt—but Klee mumbles, and stirs, small face scrunched up and uncomfortable.

Kaeya clicks his tongue and comes closer, peering over Albedo’s shoulder. “Now that just won’t do. One moment.”

Albedo blinks at him. “What are you…” Kaeya unclasps the fur cape from his shoulder and shakes it out, and then steps around Albedo to tuck the fluff around Klee’s curled back. “Ah.”

“Hold still, would you?” Kaeya says, absently. He tucks the end of the coat around Klee, his fingers brushing at Albedo’s shoulder as he does so. The alchemist is standing shock-still, posture rigid and tense. “Hm. About as well as I can make it…”

“Thank you.” Albedo sounds stiff. Kaeya glances at him and hums, stepping back a bit, giving him space. Some of the tension eases from Albedo’s shoulders, the slightest sigh of relief. Then his eyes pin Kaeya in place. “…Won’t you be cold?”

People with a Cryo Vision always burn cold; trust Albedo to remember it. Kaeya smiles, though. “Perhaps,” he says, because there’s no use lying about it. “But I’ve walked through much worse. Shall we?”

Albedo looks like he might want to argue, but in the end he keeps quiet, leading the way down the streets. Kaeya follows after him. This time, he is careful to keep his distance. It is always touch-and-go with Albedo; the alchemist is a distant sort, ill-at-ease with physicality and quick to bore with conversation. The few people Kaeya has ever seen Albedo comfortable with are numbered on one hand—Klee, of course, and Sucrose, the Traveler… and Kaeya himself, occasionally. 

It is something he has always found a little flattering.

Mondstadt at night is a lovely sight, and Kaeya has never tired of it—as Albedo leads the way through the streets, Kaeya walks beside him and tilts back his head, breathing in the evening glow. It’s quiet and calm, the silence broken only by short bursts of slurring laughter from the open taverns, but even that is a sound turned tried and true by repetition. The dying autumn season has carried with it the last lingering flowers of the year, scattered dandelion fluff and lone petals in the wind.

Kaeya catches one in his hand, pinched between two fingers, and turns it in the dim lantern light for a better look. “What do you think?” he says to Albedo, and holds the petal up to the light. “Calla Lily? Cecilia?”

Albedo looks at the petal for a long moment and then turns his eyes onto Kaeya, unimpressed. “What is your hypothesis?”

“Come on now,” Kaeya scolds, lighthearted. “I asked you first.”

Albedo sighs, and frees one hand from Klee to pinch the petal out from Kaeya’s grip. He folds it in his fist and for a moment silver light shines—and when Albedo opens his hand again, a full-bloom Cecilia flower is in his hand, the petals so sheer they almost seem to glow. Albedo holds the flower back to Kaeya. He almost seems to be smiling again—not really, not truly, but the suggestion of it is there, warm in his eyes and curling at the edges of his lips. “Here is your answer.”

It takes Kaeya a moment to react. His smile has gone cold and awkward on his face; he is staring too hard at the flower. The echo of that power—Albedo’s alchemy, the art of Khemia—it is a fond memory, and a terrible sting, all in one. 

Kaeya forces his smile steady, and reaches for the bloom. But he has reacted too late—Albedo’s hand draws away, something like concern furrowing at his brow. 

“…Are you alright?”

“Of course,” Kaeya replies, airy, and takes the flower back before Albedo can react, spinning the stem through his fingers. “What an odd thing to say—why wouldn’t I be?”

Albedo is silent. Kaeya glances over and resists the urge to sigh; Albedo has not been deterred at all, his expression gone focused and searching. He looks at Kaeya intently for a long moment, and then tilts his head as if something has at last clicked into place.

“You don’t like… my alchemy.”

Neutral tone. Slightly displeased undertone, though, and Kaeya hums under his breath and glances away. Albedo has been with the Knights for years now—his familiar alchemy even more so. Kaeya has gone to great lengths to avoid it and even greater lengths to try and figure out where Albedo learned it, why he has the Khaenri’ahn star tattooed to his throat, what he is here for, if not for the same reason as Kaeya. What to do about it.

It has been years, and still—Kaeya’s answers are lacking. Albedo’s knowledge of Khaenri’ah, if he is aware of the sordid legacy attached to that power at all... even now, Kaeya can only guess. To other questions, though—such as the matter of Mondstadt, and if Albedo is a blessing or a threat to this city of wind….

Kaeya can guess on this, too. Sometimes he is almost daring enough to say he might know for certain. In the same way Kaeya looked at Master Crepus’s grave and realized that he could not leave this family behind, Albedo is tied to Mondstadt with the same winding thread. It is the way he smiles at Sucrose—the way he holds Klee, even now, hugged secure with his hand at her head—even the way, on nights like these, when Albedo will walk through Mondstadt’s streets and look at it with open eyes. As if breathing it in. As if dreaming.

There are many things Kaeya could say in this moment. The safe things, the neutral answer. There are the things he could say, and then there is what Kaeya does: tilt his head and reply, “Your kind of alchemy… you’re the only one who can do it, hm?”

“Myself, and my teacher,” Albedo says, eyes still on him. “I fail to see what this has to do with…”

“Play along, won’t you?” Kaeya smiles. “A secret for a secret— a fair trade.”

Albedo blinks. “What sort of secret?”

“Tell me the name of your teacher,” Kaeya says, because it is something he wants to know but also isn’t too terrible of a question as to lose Albedo entirely. “And I’ll tell you what I think of your alchemy.”

“My master’s name is Rhinedottir,” Albedo says, as if it is easy, and Kaeya almost laughs at how quick he gives up the game. “And I do not need to know—”

“But perhaps I want to tell you, hm?” Kaeya spins the flower. He stares at it, thinking. Trust is a funny thing—he is not sure he can trust Albedo. Too many unknowns, too many questions; too many echoes to the past Kaeya has done his best to bury. But perhaps it is all right—in the midnight hour, in this moment—to trust Albedo with this.

He pinches the flower between his fingers and when he exhales, silver light flares. Albedo stops in his tracks, eyes widening. It is not as grand as Albedo’s alchemy—not as complex—but it is, as Kaeya well knows, utterly unmistakable. 

Albedo is staring at him. Kaeya turns and tucks the newly-turned Calla Lily in Klee’s half-curled fists; the girl doesn’t even stir, just makes a sleepy noise and grabs onto the flower instinctually.  “I suppose,” he says, “I just find it all a little bit too… nostalgic.”

“You can—?”

Kaeya taps a finger against his lips, and Albedo quiets, but his eyes are bright and focused. “How?”

Kaeya smiles, half-way to fond. “Ah, dear Chalk Prince,” he says. “If you don’t already know the answer then I’m afraid that’s one secret I can’t afford to spill so easily.” 

Albedo’s brow furrows, just slightly— not so much anger as it is deep thought. He is silent for a moment. “…I see.”

Kaeya tucks his hand back in his pocket, smiling.

They keep walking. Albedo is looking away now; his eyes fixed ahead, seeing nothing, still clearly thinking hard. Kaeya ignores it, and keeps his own smile fixed on his face. Haha. Was that a bad idea after all? But a gamble never taken is a gamble already lost… he’ll have to see how this turns out.

It’s funny. He thought he would feel more… bladed. To have revealed such a secret, to have brushed so close to the truth, even if it was by his own choice. But there is something about Albedo’s expression— about Klee, still snoozing in his arms, about this city street lit by the lamps and the Mondstadt winds still scattering flowers through the air—that turns something terrifying into something almost fond. He has to fight the urge to laugh; it is an entirely inappropriate reaction. 

They have reached the residential section, where Albedo and Klee live. Albedo almost walks by his own house, he is so lost in thought. He realizes it a moment too late to save face: halfway down the block, he blinks fast, and jerks his head back in realization, annoyance sudden and vivid on his usually mild face. 

Kaeya lifts a hand to his mouth. Albedo eyes him sidelong. “…You didn’t say anything.”

“Haha. I really just wanted to see when you’d notice.”

Albedo sighs under his breath and starts heading for his door. Kaeya follows at his heels, grinning. 

“Stop laughing,” Albedo says dryly over his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Kaeya replies, absolutely not sorry at all. The force of his smile crinkles at his eyes. He has shown his hand; he has given Albedo something like leverage, something like a knife. Albedo is curious, that much is clear—but it is only that. That simple, bright sort of wondering. No distrust. No real wariness. Nothing that Kaeya had really expected.

Perhaps Kaeya’s fears are unfounded after all. For all the mysteries surrounding him… for all the danger the art of Khemia represents…

Albedo may yet prove to be an ally, in the end.

They reach the door, and Kaeya stops by the stairs to sketch a bow. “Keep the cape,” he says, eyeing with amusement where Klee has scrunched her fingers in the fluff. “You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

Albedo blinks down at Klee. “Ah, right.” He glances up. “…Thank you, again.”

There is reluctance in his face. Kaeya raises an eyebrow at him and waits. 

Albedo breaks first. “I would like to talk again.”

“Ah-ha. I don’t know if I have much more to say.”

“And if I figure it out?” Albedo returns, swiftly. “Your secret?”

If he figures it out?

Kaeya watches him. Albedo watches him back. His expression is unreadable. Maybe he already knows; maybe he’s keeping it close. To reveal Kaeya’s secret is, perhaps, to reveal his own.

“We’ll see,” Kaeya says. “Why? Something to add?”

There is no one else awake. In this silent midnight hour, Albedo’s blue eyes almost seem to glow from within. His expression is unreadable, his eyes searching. He could be a statue, almost, but for the way he holds Klee close and the relaxed set to his shoulders. A sliver of warmth, unexpected, that breaks through the placid facade.

Albedo meets his eyes evenly. He says, flat and matter-of-fact: “You’re out of practice.”

“…Excuse me?”

“The art of Khemia. You’re rusty. I would advise you practice.” And then he smiles, small and almost amused. “That’s all. Good night, Kaeya.”

Kaeya stares. Albedo doesn’t laugh, but his eyes shine, and then he turns away and heads back inside— as if nothing as changed, as if nothing is different. The Calla Lily still clenched in Klee’s fists, the tail end of Kaeya’s coat trailing over his shoulder.

The door closes behind him.

Kaeya stares at where Albedo stood, and then throws back his head and laughs.

[reading-wanderer]

A Compendium of Magical Artifacts

Chapter 29: Racing Wings

Prompt: Flight

AO3 Link

[The next one you find isn’t quite as new looking as the last couple, but it has a picture of a ghost kid running into a wall in what looks like a human city.]

Name: Fairy Wings, Wings of Accelerated Flight, Racing Wings

Description: While not attached to a ghost, they look like a pair of capsules linked by a small bar. These capsules come in all kinds of colors that reflect in the full wings. Upon being placed on the ghost’s back, they grow and morph into their full size. Their full appearance is usually a ‘fairy’ type wing that don’t take up too much room, but there are also other types and specialized ones can even be commissioned.

Known Abilities: Since ghosts have flight as an inherent ability, wings are usually a purely aesthetic appendage and injury of such no more inhibits their flight than injury of their hand or foot. These, on the other hand, are a kind of additive item that enhances that ability. The wings increase one’s flight speed by 20-50%. The increased speed does not, however, come with the ability to handle that speed and watching people run face first into obstacles is apparently part of the fun. While activated, the wings are functionally part of the ghost wearing them, including tactile sensation and pain if harmed. I am unsure if they can work for humans as even in my human form I still have access to my powers. The item can be removed simply by pulling up on the connecting bar and unsticking the device from one’s back.

Location: These are most common several sectors over in an area known as the Raceway. As expected by the name, the denizens are mostly obsessed with Racing and everything that comes with it. There are several different groups that create these items with various levels of customization.

Notes: I found the Raceway while working on expanding my map of the sectors. I spent some time wandering through the area to get a sense of the culture and the goods that they sold in the area. During this time, I observed several different races and a wide range of different wing types as well as their placement on and removal from the racer’s backs.

Since they were items, I inquired about getting a pair custom made for myself. It would make flights between states easier and give me something to experiment with later. Unfortunately, the ones I ordered won’t be ready for months. As I was looking at examples, however, I found a pair of bright white fairy wings with green accents that were available for sale. They reminded me of Daniel and his birthday IS coming up soon. The only question now is how to get him to accept them without too much of a fuss.

[There’s a bit bigger gap between the paragraph above and below.]

As it turns out, giving Daniel his present was easy. The boy has always been rather quick to attack so I just had to go out for a flight and he came to me. I slapped the wings onto his back and they activated immediately. All it took was a couple taunts and the boy was attempting to chase me across the town. It was hilarious. I even managed to get a picture of him running straight into a building. I was going to remove them for him after a few minutes, but after the brat punched me I decided to leave them on him. He can figure out how to take them off himself.

[You stare at the picture. So this is that other half ghost. Well, they look pretty human so you guess that tracks. You wonder how long it took for him to get the wings off.]