#also go did badly in the sense she should be standing with her hands clasped behind her back

[beastsovrevelation]

Michael's so stern, and laconic, she's honestly just... Cold. But, I think she'd be so gallant towards a female love interest.

Damn... Imagine her kissing your hand (and refusing to break eye contact as she does it).

One could swoon. I'd say she definitely goes on one knee to propose.

Her Spartan demeanor does soften in her love interest's presence. A fond smile lights up her lips, and her piercing eyes shine with adoration. She mindlessly does things like brushing a lock of her so's hair behind her ear, putting her arm around her, or having her sit on her lap.

I also think (since she's the Champion) she has a pathological need to protect. Honestly, it might cause tension as she gets patronizing, even controlling. She's used to being obeyed without question, after all.

[sapphosthoughtsandwritings]

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.

[shoichee]

Request is about Rakuzan manager, who is a foreigner (from Russia). She is really popular in school, because the Japanese thinks that Russian are very pretty. But she thinks that she has ordinary appearance. Besides she always does her best for the team, tries to be the best manager for them and takes care of them because of her kindness. So Rakuzan boys warm up to her slowly. And Ore-Akashi slowly started coming to his sense (he's Boku-Akashi now), because she reminds him his mother.

Hi hi hi! Even after researching to portray this accurately, I am more vague on the specificality on Russian culture, especially in a Japanese high school setting, in order to make this more relatable and applicable. Still, I took care to implement some core values/general traits you’d see in Russian society // I HOPE I DID THIS JUSTICE;; 

[Rakuzan Manager f!Reader Headcanons]

you’ve always been the center of attention ever since you transferred to Rakuzan, a private school with extremely high standards

not to mention, your aura and looks completely encompasses that perfect “high-caliber student” look that every student wants so badly… so effortlessly? a lot of the students instantly took a liking to you just because of your appearances and how easily you stood out against the rest (especially in a collective society like Japan’s, where everyone is highly pressured to blend in)

but coming fresh from Russia, a society that focuses on individualism, you didn’t really see why everyone would suddenly worshipped you just because you expressed yourself freely… even so, in trying to make friends as a rare foreigner, you made sure to be kind to everyone

you made it out of your own way to always help the student council out with menial tasks, even if you weren’t a part of it, or always reached out a helping hand to other teachers, staff, and peers

so that may have shot up your popularity even more

your altruism easily reaches within earshot of Higuchi, the current 3rd-year manager of the Rakuzan’s basketball team, and he immediately soughts after you to invite you to the position of manager alongside him

after all, he’s going to graduate this year, so he wants to ensure that the team would be in good hands for the subsequent years

still, he’s quite nervous about introducing you to his… superiors, mostly because the team leadership has become quite… scary and strict this year

Higuchi brings you along as he slowly approaches Coach Eiji and the Rakuzan captain, who were both discussing about the imminent future of the team’s starting line and debating whether or not to switch around some players

Eiji noticed you first, and after hearing Higuchi’s suggestion, he immediately recognized you from how much the teachers and his coworkers had been praising you; hence, he has no doubt about you or anything… but he turns to Akashi to hear his input

all the while, the captain has been staring silently at you… and assessing you

“What do you think?” Eiji spoke up, glancing down to the 1st year in the corner of his eye.

“...” Akashi continues to sit with his hands clasped in front of his mouth

“It’d be an honor to become a manager for such a capable team!” you say, putting yourself into a deep bow to try to express your sincerity

“W-Wait, (y/n)-san, there’s no need to go to that extreme,” Higuchi says hurriedly, ushering you up

“S-Sorry, but I believe bows are used to express utmost deference and appeal?”

“Ahaha… only a few cases warrant a bow as deep as that.”

“Right, right! Noted…”

Akashi’s eventual sigh interrupted the both of you as he drops his hands into a more relaxed posture

“She’ll be useful. I have heard about her from other students within the student council. Shōta, you will keep her in line, correct?”

“Of course!”

“Then there is no need for this conversation to go any longer if this is settled with no further objections?” he turns to the coach for any further comments

“Yes,” he nods in agreement. “I hope you know this team expects nothing from the best from you, even if you’re only a manager.”

. . .

so here you are, on your first day as a manager alongside Higuchi, being taught the ropes of your duties: noting players’ favorite snacks and food, making sure there’s plenty of water bottles left, changing towels if needed… these honestly felt like normal chores to you, so you didn’t feel overwhelmed at all

“W-W-Whoa!! Our new manager is a girl?—Ow, Reo-nee!”

“Sheesh, show some respect to the manager! Quit looking at her like that!”

“B-But…”

“Hello!” you waved at them, popping up right in front of them, and Hayama quickly jumps to gain some distance for himself out of shock

“The foreign transfer student?!”

“I’m a new manager here, and I hope we get along!”

“Ah…” Mibuchi turns to you with a hand on his chest and a slight bow of his head in acknowledgement. “I must compliment you on your Japanese. You speak as if you’re almost native—in fact, your way of speaking is more elegant than most people here.”

“Thank you!” you beam at him. “Yes…! I’ve worked to at least become fluent for the JLPT N2, so I’m very glad you complimented me so!”

“Reo-nee, you tell me to back off, but you’re being chummy with her right now! Ei-chan, look! Don’t you agree with me?—Wha, where did he go?”

“Who knows?” Mibuchi shrugs indifferently. “But it’s no wonder that it’s been a lot quieter around… by the way (y/n)-chan, are all Russians as striking as you? It makes me a tad bit envious that such beauty is effortless to you.”

“No, no!” you deny with a laugh. “We’re quite ordinary, you see? I think everyone has their own type of beauty to admire and appreciate.”

“Oh! Beautiful words spoken by a beautiful person! Ah… I’ve been called by Higuchi-san. I must part but I hope you’ll allow me to ask you more questions later!”

as you wave off Mibuchi with a smile, Hayama only frowns at you as he crossed his arms, irritated at the fact that you don’t seem too keen on using honorifics for the upperclassmen:

“Look, you might’ve gotten Reo-nee to approve of you, but don’t think the rest of us will be just as accommodating. We’re serious about basketball, so don’t slack off and bring us down.”

but you only turn to him with a smile before giving a slight bow before replying: “I will put 100% of my time and effort, so everyone can do their best on the courts with peace of mind!”

Hayama immediately gets flustered, not expecting such a warm response to his words and he scratches head and replies loudly, “U-Uh… yeah, just, just don’t screw it up for us.”

the first week of being manager was just like what Hayama spoke about: most of the players were wary of you because you were extremely different in how you carried yourself, or curious about you for that same reason… perhaps you were recruited out of pity?

there were a handful of teammates who were brave enough to ask you questions about your culture or personal background

Eikichi, on one hand, asked about your cuisine and whether there were “big guys” like himself that can be a challenge to his strength (you only laugh at him as you easily answer all of his questions)

“I heard the Russian men are unbelievably strong! *flexes his own biceps* Their muscle masses are rumored to be insane!”

“W-Well… it’s different for everyone, but I agree that we’re very strong-natured and have dignity for ourselves.”

“Ohh, (y/n)-chan… that must be why you stand out so much yourself!”

“Mibuchi-kun, you’re very striking yourself, you know…”

and here is Hayama petulantly huffing all the while, doubting you all the while still

“Here you go again, forgetting to add senpai after Ei-chan and Reo-nee!”

“Why should I?” You tilt your head in confusion. “Whether I add such honorifics or not doesn’t change how much I respect them, Hayama-kun.”

“It’s Hayama-senpai to you!”

“If you’re spending this much time fixated on this, then you can spend that much time practicing and showing me the skills to earn the respect you want! Come on! Chop, chop, chop!”

. . .

“Ei-chan! Don’t you get mad when (y/n) doesn’t address you properly?! Reo-nee, what about you?!”

“Huh? I’d never be mad at someone who doesn’t seem to mind me burping at all, and she never scolds me about this stuff like Reo does—”

“Who wouldn’t?! It’s gross, seriously! While I do not understand her tolerance of your vulgar manners, her eloquence and natural aura is equal to those of Sei-chan’s… so in my eyes, I see no need for her to use such honorifics.”

“HUH?! Reo-nee, but why?!”

his opinion of you only gradually changes when you never seem to snap at him back even though he’s being a little shit when you’re around… you remind him of a motherly figure… but a kind, level-headed one, which is slightly different from the naggy mother-hen (but good-intentioned) vibe Mibuchi gives off

besides, anyone with eyes can see how much you scurry around holding handfuls of towels and bottles for all the players, even for the bench players

people think it’s really odd that you’re so physically close to the teammates, especially when you link arm in arm with them or give little distance when you talk with them; as a result, a lot of speculation of “dating” and “relationships” pop up when your name is brought up

the Uncrowned Kings easily squash those rumors… Akashi’s presence alone is also enough to silence them LOL

Mibuchi is the main guy who always likes to link arms as a symbol of your shared friendship

. . .

it’s an odd relationship between you and Mayuzumi… no matter how much you call out to him, he ignores you, and no matter how much he ignores you, you still treat him the same as ever

“Stop pestering me,” Mayuzumi clicks his tongue, blatantly making the effort not to face you properly, and you finally smile, seeing that he finally acknowledged your presence

“Ah, you’re quite the blunt one, aren’t you, Mayuzumi-san?”

“If you get that, then go away.”

“Well, I can’t! You’re part of the lineup, so I am especially not going to neglect you.”

“Are you this mindless to help people like a saint and then expect everyone to adore you? As far as I’m aware, most see you as some ‘exotic’ curiosity and nothing more. And I frankly love myself too much to be associated with such people. If you’re only here out of pity, beat it. Now.”

“Well, it seems like you care enough to tell me that,” you muse, but your face hardens with a serious glint in your eye. “But heed my words when I say this Mayuzumi-san. I am not doing this to be a people-pleaser. I am doing this for myself and only myself. I want to be a good person because it is a decision I make for myself. When there is a choice of being a good person versus bad, I’ll choose to be the best version of myself at any moment. That is my own definition of self-respect. No way in hell I’m doing this because I feel sorry for you… I will complete my duty with my pride as Rakuzan’s manager on the line.”

he’s stunned at your words, and he instantly relaxes his posture before he turns to continue reading his novel on hand… “I see.”

he actually likes the fact that your culture allows people to be more outspoken about their opinions, since he’s all too aware how the majority of his own peers are constantly worried about collective reputation and doing things for the sake of others

Mayuzumi becomes a lot more… cooperative with you from that point on

he relates to your words of having high self-respect and pride, and he’s pleasantly surprised that you actually know how to hold your own ground despite being very kind // even if he finds it weird that being a manager makes you happy… but since it’s something you do for your own sake, he can learn to respect it; after all, he reads light novels for his own happiness

imagine his unadulterated surprise when you not only brought him bottles, snacks, and a towel (that’s the part he expected from you), you slipped in new issues of the latest light novels within the towel bundle (this is what caught him off guard)

you’re suddenly seen in a good light in his eyes

. . .

it’s been almost a month since you’ve been recruited, and most of the teammates have now accepted you as one of their own, more or less, but something bothered you that you couldn’t help but ask Rakuzan’s senior manager

“Higuchi-san, don’t managers need to do some analytic work for the team statistics? It seems that all we do is mundane tasks.”

“Ah, most of the analytic work is done by Akashi.”

“But why? Does he not trust the managers with this work? Does he see us as not capable?”

“Not exactly… he’s very… particular about ensuring the best possible strategies for victory. So far, whatever he’s been doing has earned him complete trust from the entire team and even our coach.”

“Wow… that’s… a really impressive feat for a 1st year…”

“No one’s really surprised though. (y/n)-san you may have just transferred here so you might not know, but he was Teiko’s previous captain and the main public face of the Generation of Miracles…”

after he finished giving a crash-course on their prodigal status in the basketball world, you’re more fired up to work harder for Rakuzan as the manager

“Besides, (y/n)-san, our main duty of being a manager is to maintain the well-being of our team. All these little things add up, and surely, the team knows to appreciate these gestures from us.”

you actually later approach the Uncrowned Kings to playfully complain about why they didn’t tell you how prestigious they truly were on the courts (after learning about their status from Higuchi)

“Huh? (y/n)-nee, now you wanna show respect to your senpais, huh?”

you don’t miss the playfulness in his complaint as he tries to ruffle your hair… and also the way Hayama has recently addressed you differently

“This is different, Hayama! You have such titles under your belts because of your skills and accomplishments on the court… that is extremely admirable!”

“D’awww, it’s nothing, really.”

of course, they all have pride in their titles, but they all immediately turn the direction of the conversation to Akashi, saying they were nothing compared to him

that only made you more curious about the captain

you actually never made conversation with him throughout the month because you were so busy with your duties and helping out everyone… but you finally decided to try to help the captain in any way

Akashi has been observing you for the entirety of your time in the team… that much is to be expected, considering that he needed to evaluate your performance and compatibility with the rest of the teammates to make sure that there is still unity even with the addition of a new person (after all… as much as he doesn’t want to admit, he is still fearful of the possibility of his team crumbling from the inside again)

the fact that you even got Mayuzumi to approve of you in his own way actually impressed him; even he himself had to be authoritative to get Mayuzumi to be cooperative on the team

it’s the little things you do that reminds him of the tickles of nostalgia, when he first played basketball with his late mother, within his mind: the way you were the only one giving positive encouragement to the players in a club filled with cutthroat competition and perfection; the way you made sure that everyone was calm and collected before they walk into the courts; the way you diligently remember and cater every care package and preference to every unique player, in addition to your minimum duties.

he unconsciously mellows out whenever you approach to him to speak, and he only realizes that fact every time you leave the conversation to continue your next to-do on your schedule

“Akashi-san!”

he turns to look at you impassively, but he stands to wait to hear what you have to say

“Can I help you with anything in any way?”

“Are your assigned duties of manager not enough?” he asks, but he continues to give little away from his blank expression

“No, no, that’s not it,” you reply. “I was wondering how I can extend my hand to also help out the captain of the team as well. After all, it’s important for the managers to care for the well-being of every team member… you’re no exception!”

“Do what you think is best to ensure victory,” was all he said before he left

you’re now confused… did he mean for you to keep up your work as normal? did he trust you enough to let you decide what to do on your own? his vague words certainly threw you in for a loop

still, the Rakuzan teammates were able to breathe easier whenever you were in the same room as Akashi, because there’s always a gentler aura around him when you’re near the vicinity

sometimes his Orekashi side slips out, whether he gives an open compliment to a good play (albeit, delivered in a calm, spartan way) or when he gives an occasional perfect-rhythmed pass that leaves his teammates in a stupor

Akashi’s mannerisms towards you as the manager is as subtle as a speck of dust, but he’s grown a quiet sense of respect for you and the atmosphere you’ve brought to the team

however, it will only be at the final game where his Orekashi side will fully reawaken again

if any student dares to approach you with insensitive questions and comments about your race and culture with stereotypes, they should be expecting all hell breaking loose from the basketball team in 3… 2… 1…

[hajimesh]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘̄ 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 // 𝟷.𝟺𝚔 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; 𝘶 𝘳 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶. 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺

𝐚/𝐧; 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 @animatedrapture 𝘣𝘤 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘮. 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰

-ˏˋ𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♡

The stands were filled with Inarizaki students –marching band, orchestra, and cheerleading team included– making their cheers reverberate all over the gym.

The thrill in the atmosphere was almost palpable.

Atsumu’s eyes raked the over the stands, choosing to ignore the squealing group of fangirls, and just focusing on the most familiar faces. Until something caught his attention.

It so happened that Suna was just walking by, the setter instantly gripping his shoulder and forcing him to stand next to him.

"Damn Suna, check it, that girl in the cheerleading team is hot."

Suna followed Atsumu’s stare, his eyes landing on you.

Wearing your cheerleading uniform, you stood with a radiant smile, your hands resting on your hips, and the red pom-poms shaking every time you moved around.

On the outside, Suna remained impassive. But on the inside? he felt as if he were having a war flashback.

“Suna-kun!”

He saw you skip down the hall and towards him, a scowl automatically appearing on his face.

You stopped in front of him, a fascinated look in your eyes. “Good job at last week’s game! Oh, you're such a good middle blocker!”

He answered with a tired sigh, it was way to early for your ridiculous comments.

“Ne, Suna-kun,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “Spike me next time, daddy.”

He groaned internally. Why couldn’t you be a Miya twins fangirl? Why did it have to be him?

You laughed when you saw his scowl deepening.

He had no idea of how much you enjoyed annoying him.

Suna was brought back to reality when he felt a hand clapping him on the back.

"I should ask for her number, dontcha think sunarin?" Atsumu’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

Somehow, hearing the setter’s words irked him, making him speak before thinking twice.

“She doesn't like you."

He had never wanted to take back his words so badly, but the harm was already done.

"The fuck you mean? Of course she likes me!” Atsumu pointed at you with his finger. “She's a cheerleader for our team!"

A snarky smile made its way to Suna’s lips. "Sorry to break it to you, but she has a crush on me.”

Atsumu was left astounded, finding Suna’s comment oddly interesting while it bruised his ego at the same time.

Inarizaki won the match, no surprise. And after collecting your stuff, you made your way towards Suna, not missing the opportunity to tease him.

He saw you from a mile away and mentally prepared himself for whatever you were going to say to him.

You sported an elated grin, your hands clasped behind your back. “You were so good today, Suna-kun! Congrats on the win!”

To his surprise, you didn’t even give him enough time to shift his impassive face into a scowl, strutting off as your short cheerleader skirt swayed behind you.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he was not letting Atsumu get his hands on you.

- - - - -

It had been a few days after the game and Atsumu still had Suna’s words fresh in his mind. He spent the entire weekend thinking them over and over until he came to a verdict.

Suna was lying.

Because there’s no way someone as pretty as you would be crushing on him, right? Not on the expresionless middle blocker. Nope. It didn’t even make any sense.

Suna, observant as always, noticed the setter staring at him the entire practice. He brushed it off and continued with his own thing. He was bending down to fetch his water bottle when he heard him.

“Ah, Kita-san! Yer quite familiar with the cheer team, yea?”

Suna’s ears perked up.

What was Atsumu’s pea-sized brain thinking!?

Atsumu felt quite proud of himself for tying the loose ends. Kita had to know you, he was the captain after all.

Said captain looked confused but nodded, not understanding where Atsumu words were coming from.

“Ya know that girl with h/c hair? I think she has e/c eyes also, like, this tall?” he gestured with his hands as he described you.

Suna’s glare didn’t go unnoticed by Atsumu, whose grin widened when he saw Kita nodding in affirmation.

“That’s l/n y/n, same year as you. Top of her class too,” suddenly, the aura around Kita became threatening. “She’s a smart girl.”

Oh, right. Atsumu thought. L/n y/n, one of Inarizaki’s top students. Your name was always on the highest rankings in both class and school.

Yeah, Suna must be lying because there’s no way a pretty and smart, top of her class girl like you had a crush on him.

Suna wasn’t doing any better. He almost choked on his water when he compared Kito-san’s version of you against the version he knew.

“Suna-kun!” you came up to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He glared at you, knowing that, by the way the apples of your cheeks flushed pink, it was going to be a bad one.

“Why don’t you be the iceberg and I’ll be the Titanic ship?” you said with a straight face, your voice lowering to a whisper. “So I can go down on you.”

That had to be the most disgusting yet amusing joke he had ever heard.

How and where the hell did you get the guts to say those things to him!?

His usual deadpanned expression faltered slightly, wanting to laugh so badly but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. So even if he was dying to laugh, he only rolled his eyes.

You finally started laughing, taking out the hand you had been hiding behind your back, and placing a jelly fruit stick on his desk. You waved him goodbye with a dashing smile and walked away.

Suna absolutely hated the way his heart seemed to skip against his chest, the words ‘you’re so annoying’ burning in his mouth.

- - - - -

Atsumu nudged Suna, “Oi, yer girlfriend’s coming here.”

He immediately looked towards the direction Atsumu had pointed, and indeed there you were. Walking from the bleachers towards them.

Inarizaki’s game was about to start and it shouldn't have been a surprise to see you there.

Suna flipped him off and looked away as he answered, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

He watched you from the corner of his eye as he drank from his water bottle. Your steps halted in front of Kita, your face all serious as you listened intently to whatever he was saying.

What could you possibly be talking about with Kita-san? Suna thought.

But his thoughts were interrupted when he saw you smile and Kita reciprocating the gesture.

Huh?

Atsumu saw his chance and took it eagerly, walking to where you and Kita were. His classic confident demeanor made you raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, doll. I’m Miya Atsumu, nice to meet ya,” he flaunted a cocky smirk, especially because he knew Suna was watching.

“L/n-san, this is our team’s setter,” Kita introduced you.

With a smile and a hand-shake, you greeted him, earning a grin from the setter.

“Why don’t ya give me yer number? I want to take you out,” Atsumu casually asked.

Suna was still listening, waiting expectantly –just as the other two males next to you– for your answer.

Your head tilted to the side, pondering the offer but you ended up scrunching up your face.

“Nah, I don't want your fangirls after me,” with a shake of your head, you turned him down. Grinning back at Atsumu and the teasing tone evident in your voice.

Atsumu visibly deflated at your reply. “Just give me yer number then, let’s be friends.”

It was your turn to be stunned. Your stare became calculating, intimidating even, and that was when both second years suddenly understood how Kita and you were acquainted.

“Talk to me again next time and I might consider it,” you said with a genuine smile, so genuine it almost knocked Atsumu off his feet.

Atsumu smiled back at you with a nod and remembered why he even came near you, “By the way, Suna mentioned ya have a crush on ‘im, that true?”

You were caught off guard, he had made his question sound so innocent. Did Suna really mention you to his teammate?

“Did he now?” you say, finally looking at him from behind Atsumu and Kita.

Suna was fuming, ready to rip Atsumu’s head once he got a hold on him.

“That’s none of your business, Atsumu,” Kita sighed with an apologetic look towards you.

You giggled, brushing off the situation. Bowing before Kita, you started to take your leave. “Thank you, Kita-senpai, I'll relay the message to them!”

You waved at them, and then at Suna, goodbye. A satisfied smirk being the last thing he saw before you finally turned your back to him.

He growled under his breath because all he could focus on was the stupidly annoying, top of her class, pretty girl that was crushing on him.

And whom he might be feeling something for as well.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Fifteen people who found out about James, Sirius, and Remus and the one person who never did

To clarify: James, Sirius, and Remus are queerplatonic partners in this case, or QPP's. This means that they're essentially special friends, ones who indulge in physical and emotional connections that are typically thought of as beyond platonic.

ONE: Peter Pettigrew

By fourth year the Marauders are legends. Everyone knows them as the fun-loving band of brothers without any cares in the world. Only the four of them know the true nature of the Marauders - bloody, battered, and bruised.

One day Sirius and James are fighting, an explosive sort of argument where Peter hides behind his curtains while peeking out through a crack in them and Remus reads calmly on his bed. Then suddenly the shouting stops, and Peter’s jaw drops open while Remus looks up from his book.

There, in the middle of the room, are Sirius and James, Sirius’ hands on James’ face and his mouth on his lips. Sirius pulls away before James can respond, covering his mouth with his hands and tearing up while James blinks in shock and Peter stares.

Then, Remus starts laughing, and James drags Sirius into a crushing hug, pressing kisses all over his face before finally pecking him on the mouth and then letting go. Peter squeaks out a garbled question when Remus rolls his eyes and says, “What, no love for me?”

Immediately, Sirius and James tackle him onto the bed, the three of them collapsing into a mess of laughter and kisses while Peter stares and stares and stares.

TWO: Marlene McKinnon

In an act of drunken desperation to forget her own confusing sexuality (girls are super hot but the idea of being in love makes me wanna throw up, for reference), Marlene flirts with Sirius at a party. His eyes are dark and alluring and he’s addicted to dancing, so it’s not exactly difficult. But just as her hand snakes up his arm, Remus appears, wrapping himself around Sirius and kissing him happily, Sirius melting against him.

Marlene steps back in her shock, creating just enough room for James to stumble over tipsily and start making fun of Sirius’ ears; that is until Sirius leans down and kisses him too just to shut him up, pulling back with a laugh so loud it rings in Marlene’s ears as she runs for the comfort of Dorcas, who simply smiles and slips her hand through Marlene’s blonde curls and kisses her until she can’t feel anything anymore.

THREE: Minvera Mcgonogall

In fifth year, Mcgonogall is awoken by a bawling James Potter at her door, sobbing uncontrollably and blubbering about something she can’t really understand. Eventually he calms down enough that she manages to get that he’s upset because he just found out that Sirius and Remus are dating.

Mcgonogall is terribly confused - haven’t the three of them been dating for years?

“No,” James says. “We’re just friends. Friends who kiss and love each other more than anything but aren’t in love with each other. I know… I know that doesn’t really make sense. I’m just… I’m just scared that since they’re boyfriends, or whatever, they won’t… they won’t…”

Mcgonogall opens her mouth to respond when Sirius’ voice cuts through the chaos -

“Won’t what? Love you? Because if you think that my being in love with Moony means I’m going to stop snogging you at every available opportunity then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought, Jamie.”

James looks up with a grin even as the tears still stream down his face, taking in the sight of a grinning Sirius and Remus, whose hands are tightly clasped between them. Mcgonogall watches, blinking in shock, as James bounds over to them and laughs as Sirius dips him in a kiss and Remus rolls his eyes.

“Come on, you morons,” he says, dragging them away as Sirius tries and fails to kiss him silly, laughing.

FOUR: Severus Snape

Sixth year is when shit first hits the fan. The Prank is a tear in their carefully cultivated tapestry, one that sends all three of them exploding in different directions. Severus is on his way to the infirmary for some more dreamless potion from Madam Pomfrey (and to check on Remus after the traumatic mindfuck that was last night’s full moon) when he sees the shitshow begin.

Remus is lying in a hospital bed, confined by bandages and fatigue but looking no less terrifying as he bites insult after insult towards Sirius. (The only one of these Severus remembers is “I thought you loved me, asshole!”, and only because Sirius had fled the room in tears after it was spoken.) James tries to sit down at Remus’ bedside, but before he can Remus breaks down in tears.

James reaches out to hold him, but Remus shoves him away, screaming until James leaves, his head hanging low in defeat. Severus approaches carefully, holding out one of his bottles of dreamless sleep.

“Here,” he says softly. “So you can forget, for a little while.”

Remus looks up at him and smiles weakly.

“Thanks,” he rasps, and Severus leaves with a nod, deciding it’s better to quit while he’s ahead.

FIVE: Lily Evans

Despite all of the horror of the Prank, it is less disastrous than one might think. There is a war coming; Severus has sworn to Remus himself that he will never tell and has also started searching for the cure for lycanthropy while he’s at it (not that he’s found it; he never will); and Sirius Black and Remus Lupin love each other more than words can say and will no matter the consequences, everybody knows that.

And Lily, she misses Severus - no one else understands that, but she does. She loves him.

She’s studying with Remus one day, their backs against the wall and knees to their chests, and ends up asking him how Severus is doing, eventually winding them down a conversational path about lost love and finding hope anyway. Remus, however, collapses into tears talking about Sirius and how much he misses him and loves him, still.

Lily doesn’t know what to do; Remus Lupin does not cry, at least not in front of anyone. Before she can panic too badly about it though, James is there, on his knees in front of Remus and whispering quietly to him, taking his hands and kissing his knuckles in between murmurs of affection. Sirius stands behind him, hands clenching in and out of fists as he tries desperately not to touch, but that only lasts a few moments before Remus is laughing through his tears, making grabby hands for Sirius.

Sirius squats down hesitantly, gently wrapping his arms around Remus, who pulls him down by the neck and jaw and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him as James smiles tiredly, passerbys whoop and stare, and Lily looks at James and feels her heart flutter in her chest. He smiles at her, and she flushes, then stands and heads for the opposite corner, where Severus is leaning against the wall, his nose in a book.

No words are needed between them. She pulls him in by the tie, and there’s a single feeble whoop for them, too - Lily smiles at the sound of James’ voice, hope sparking in her chest as her eyelids flutter closed.

SIX: Regulus Black

Regulus, struggling under his parents’ stifling regime alone since Sirius left, can’t say he’s not shocked when Sirius drags him up to a Marauders sleepover in the Gryffindor dorms one night. Peter isn’t there - Remus says he’s staying with a Hufflepuff named Max he’s into - but Remus, Sirius, and James all gravitate towards one bed, Remus lying on his back with James’ head on his stomach, running his fingers lazily through James’ curls.

Sirius beams at the sight of them and jumps in beside them, and James leans up and pecks Sirius on the mouth, who smiles. Regulus’ heart twinges at the sight - his brother has so much more love than he does, and Regulus won’t deny that he’s always been just a little bit in love with James Potter - but then James smiles at him with those twinkling eyes and Regulus’ heart calms.

Sirius draws him close by the hand, pulling him into his side and kissing the top of his head. They laugh and wrestle and joke around until eventually Remus falls asleep in James’ arms, and James is not long to follow. Regulus lies awake long after, nestled into Sirius’ side, the silence comforting like a warm blanket. Until Sirius murmurs, “I love you, Reggie,” and drifts off, and Regulus is left staring at the ceiling, alone.

He knows, Sirius’ hand over his heart, that this is his brother’s way of saying goodbye.

SEVEN: Hope & Lyall Lupin

“Criminals” is not a word Lyall Lupin would use to describe Sirius Black and James Potter, but maybe it should be. Because they break into his house on Christmas Eve the boys’ seventh year, the moon already rising in the sky. Lyall tries to stop them, but Sirius Stupefies him with cold eyes and transforms into a hulking dog right then and there, trotting down the basement stairs as James follows, breaking Remus’ chains with his human hands and ushering him out the door before taking his stag form.

Lyall and Hope watch in shock from the kitchen as Remus turns and Sirius and James tame him easily, the wolf nuzzling them like old friends. By morning, they are still out in the yard, the sun rising, now fully human. At first Lyall worries for his son’s modesty, but Sirius has already wrapped his shirt around Remus’ waist, and Remus, barechested in the sun, is holding James’ head to his, muttering in Welsh as James tries desperately to breathe, apologizing over and over for a gash on Remus’ chest put there by his antlers. Remus smiles, and Sirius hums a Queen song under his breath, and Lyall can’t hear everything his son is saying but he catches just enough -

“Mae'n iawn, fy nghariad. Shhh, annwyl.” (It's alright, my love. Shhh, dearheart.)

EIGHT: Albus Dumbledore

The news that Regulus has died comes on a Wednesday. Dumbledore is the one to deliver it, with a heavy heart and a heavier theory in his head. He notices that James is there, in Sirius and Remus’ home, but does not question it, only offering the story of the Horcruxes to Sirius, who sits on the couch. As the words pour out, dry and frail, Sirius’ face pales to ghostly white. Remus emerges from the kitchen with tea just as the final phrase leaves Dumbledore’s lips -

“Your brother died a hero.”

The tea clatters to the floor as Sirius reaches for his wand on the table, pointing it towards his head and getting out “Avada -” before James and Remus are on him, James wrenching his wand away while Remus locks Sirius in his arms, gently coaxing him down onto the floor and rocking him back and forth as he breaks down. James returns from hiding the wand and wraps himself around the both of them, breaking down with Sirius and pressing tearful kisses to every inch of skin he can find. Remus looks up at Dumbledore with glassy eyes and says -

“Please take your leave, Professor.”

Dumbfounded, Dumbledore does.

NINE: Dorcas Meadowes

Dorcas has lived with Marlene since school - Dorcas was in love with her, and Marlene liked sex and liked Dorcas in a “we can be best-friend-partner-lovers forever, mkay?” way. But no one else can understand that - the fact that they’re physically intimate but not a couple, that they’re married by law and spirit but not in love, that’s not something anybody gets. So when Marlene dies, Dorcas locks herself in their home, for grief and madness alike.

One day, Sirius comes to visit her. She doesn’t know why - Lily is about to have a baby, Voldemort is specifically targeting the Potters, their husband Snape is a fucking spy, and Remus is undercover amongst the wolves. All this and there’s a traitor in their midst - Sirius has no business visiting a grieving woman when there’s a war on.

But war there is, and visit he does.

Dorcas makes him tea, and they converse quietly about Marlene for a time. It’s when Sirius’ apology comes that she snaps -

“You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to lose her. She’s - she was my everything. My other half, a part of me, my - my wife. Not just a friend but not a lover… well, not in anything but the physical sense anyway, but - she was my life.”

Sirius stands, throwing his hands out to the side.

“You think I don’t understand?” He says, laughing and running a hand through his hair. He blinks back tears, then thrusts his left hand her way. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. That grief, that fear, I - I feel that every day.”

Dorcas shakes her head, batting his hand away.

“Remus is the love of your life, not your - your, I don’t know, partner? You can’t -”

“James,” Sirius interrupts, desperately, and Dorcas shuts up. “Jamie. My Jamie. Well - Remus and I’s Jamie, really.”

He smiles - a broken, broken thing.

“I understand, see?” He says, twisting his wedding ring around so instead of a moon it shows a black set of antlers. “See? I know. I understand. I do.”

Dorcas stares, quietly, and then starts laughing. It’s a foreign, unwelcome sound, and Sirius reels back in shock. They stand there, opposing each other, until suddenly the laughs ebb out into sobs, and Sirius pulls her to his front and doesn’t let go.

TEN: Mary MacDonald

The day Harry is born, Severus isn’t even there. He’s deep into Voldemort’s forces by now, only holding contact with Dumbledore out of necessity, and James and Lily are both exhausted, missing their husband with a newfound intensity and knowing Voldemort wants to kill their newborn son. Sirius and Remus are there, Mary too, and as Lily sleeps with Harry on her chest and Mary holds her hand, Sirius and James fight.

Loudly.

(In the hallway, of course, but still.)

Remus is helpless in between them - Mary hears very little of what is actually said. Bits and pieces here and there -

“You can’t protect him by -”

And “We need you, dipshit!”

And “I swear to fucking Merlin, Jamie -”

But nothing really solid. She watches through the window as they scream, until suddenly Remus reaches out and pulls James into a kiss. Mary drops Lily’s hand in shock, and watches with a gaping mouth as Remus lets go of James to pull Sirius into him, kissing him passionately and without reserve. Finally, when he pulls away, he glares at the two men and seethes something just loud enough for her to hear -

“Listen up, you idiots. That child needs our protection. That means hiding. We know fuck all about the future but this is war. Our baby is not gonna die because the people who love him can’t let him go.”

Sirius and James both nod sagely, James leaning in to peck Remus on the mouth - “Sorry, Remy.” - before he wanders back inside the hospital room. Outside, Remus collapses into Sirius’ arms, the two of them holding each other and rocking back and forth. James looks up at Mary from the other side of Lily’s bed and smiles wryly.

“Shit, huh?” He mutters, and Mary, speechless, nods.

ELEVEN: Fleamont & Euphemia Potter

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter go into hiding when James and Lily do, knowing they could be tortured for their whereabouts despite not knowing them. Remus comes bursting through their fireplace on Halloween, covered in cuts and bruises and coughing with baby Harry cradled against his chest. Through hacking breaths and with glassy eyes, he tells them their son is dead with his wife and Sirius has been arrested for their murder, along with Peter’s and some Muggles’. He kisses their foreheads and tells them to take care of themselves, leaving with the last words he ever says to them -

“I loved your son. So did Sirius. We - I will do everything I can to protect Harry. I promise.”

He disappears through the fireplace before they can respond, leaving them to grieve.

TWELVE: Walburga & Orion Black

After leaving Harry with Dumbledore, who assures him the child will be given to the custody of his living father as soon as he’s emerged from his undercover work (a lie, Remus later learns), Remus makes his way to Regulus’ grave. There’s no body there, of course, but Remus never got to say goodbye to the boy he considered something of a son, and he figures now, when he’s lost everything, is as good a time as any.

It turns out he’s not alone - Walburga and Orion Black, not yet locked up in Azkaban for their crimes, are there already, and spit in his face for daring to grieve their son when he’s a werewolf who supposedly turned their other one queer and heady. Remus stares them down, and in a calm voice with his hands in his pockets tells them -

“I loved Regulus like a brother. As for Sirius… well, he married two blokes. Oh -” He smirks. “And he was damn good in bed, too.”

Walburga lets out a shrill scream, turning her wand on Remus, and he holds his head high as he disarms both her and her husband and promptly kills the two people who made his husband’s life a living hell for sixteen years. As he stands there, staring at their still-warm bodies and always-cold eyes, he can feel no remorse - only a deep ache, loss and regret plaguing him with age long before his time.

THIRTEEN: Molly & Arthur Weasley

Twelve years pass without so much as a breath from Sirius or Remus. James is six feet under and Harry is thirteen, and after the havoc that occurs at Hogwarts his third year, they settle at Grimmauld Place, together. Molly and Arthur are tasked with bringing them essentials and information, and take notice of the fact that the two rarely leave each other’s sides. They’re wearing their wedding bands, which Molly does not fail to notice are marked with antlers as well as moons and pawprints, and Remus has another ring around a chain on his neck with only a pawprint and a moon. They look tired and worn out, Sirius more than Remus, and one day Molly pulls him aside to ask him privately if they’re doing alright.

Remus gives her a wry smile, his eyes twinkling just the slightest bit as he answers, “Yes. Of course.” Molly asks him again, saying she’s worried, and Remus shrugs, looking through doorways to Sirius, at the table with Arthur.

“I’ve had twelve years to grieve. Getting Sirius - getting my husband back was the greatest happiness I could ever ask for. But Sirius, he… he was never allowed to truly mourn. He’s still…”

He gets this distant look in his eyes and startles when Molly touches his arm, offering a small smile.

“I’ve had time to grieve our partner, is all I’m saying,” he murmurs. “Sirius needs time before he can even begin to forgive himself for what happened to James.”

Molly keeps her shock inward, squeezing Remus’ arm once before ushering her husband out the door. Watching from outside as Grimmauld Place folds back into itself, she thinks she sees two silhouettes in the window, melting into one.

FOURTEEN: Nymphadora Tonks

Nymphadora Tonks falls in love with Remus Lupin almost the moment she meets him. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s kind and smart and brave - what else could you want? And she thinks he likes her too - even if her cousin is desperately in love with him, which she would have to be blind not to see. But she knows this the way she knows the rhythm of her heartbeat in her chest - Remus Lupin was born to be hers.

So imagine her surprise when his response to her confession is to shake his head and laugh.

“I’m a married man, Dora,” he drawls, standing and flashing his ring towards her around a glass of whiskey. “I thought you knew that. I am sorry to say I cannot return your feelings… beyond my marriage, age, and lycanthropy, you must have noticed that women are not… my area.”

Tonks flushes red, jerking back in shock. So her cousin…

“Is it Sirius?” She blurts, and Remus turns towards her again, his eyes twinkling. He nods.

“Yes,” he answers. “Though, I had a second husband… long ago, and a partner more than anything…”

With a distant look in his eyes, he leaves her heartbroken at the dining room table, but not before she sees him slip into a waiting Sirius’ arms, holding him close to his chest as they dance, their eyes closed and two rings bearing antlers hanging between them.

FIFTEEN: Hermione Granger

She starts to wonder, right around the beginning of her fifth year, why Harry seems to have no interest in hanging out with anyone besides her and Ron. Now, she and Ron, they’re in love with each other; Hermione’s neither daft nor blind. But Harry’s in love with them both too, she realizes, and his closest relationships outside of that are past platonic but far from romantic: she can’t call what he has with Luna or Draco “normal”. The summer before her sixth year, she travels to Grimmauld Place, needing some time alone to think before the war envelopes them all. But she finds, when she arrives, that she’s not alone - there, at the dining room table, is Remus, holding a glass of whiskey and wearing three identical rings on a chain around his neck.

“Professor Lupin?” She asks, and Remus smiles wryly. “What’re you doing here?”

Remus sighs, leaving his glass on the table as he stands and grabs his coat.

“Just a bit of reminiscing, my dear,” he says. “No matter. Off we go now, this place belongs to Harry and we have no right to…”

He trails off, his eyes glistening, and Hermione watches his Adam’s apple bob and averts her eyes to the rings, each holding a different two of three symbols: a pawprint, a moon, and a pair of antlers. One of them is the one Sirius used to wear around, always a little loose on his finger from all that malnourishment… Remus must have just grasped it before he fell through the Veil. At the thought, her breath catches in her throat.

“Sirius was your…” She says, and stops when Remus flinches. He gives her a kind smile and nods.

“Yes,” he says. “And James as well, though that was different. More of a… friend, partner - soulmate? -” Hermione coughs. “- than a lover. But, yes. Not that it matters now.”

Hermione’s heart stops in her chest.

“Of course it matters,” she fires back. “You loved him. You loved him, and he’s dead.”

Remus looks down at her, his smile gone, and shrugs.

“All things end, Hermione,” he murmurs. “Especially good things.”

He opens the door and has one foot outside when he turns back to her and says, “Miss Granger?” She looks up at him from her hands, shaking and devoid of rings, and nods.

“Yes?”

Remus smiles, his eyes sad.

“Tell your Harry we love him. All seven of the Marauders, even if some of us never really got to meet him. And tell him… tell him that even if he didn’t die for him or raise him, his father loves him.”

Hermione’s brow furrows, but she nods.

“Of course,” she promises, though she has no idea who the other three Marauders are and could not even begin to guess what Remus means by his comment on Harry’s father. “I will.”

Remus smiles one last time, tips his invisible hat to her, and disappears out the front door and into the night.

ONE: Harry Potter

Remus marries Tonks, but doesn’t love her. Teddy is an accident, and only his in name. Remus will only ever have one son, and his name is Harry Potter.

In the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin dies with three rings around his neck and a secret in his chest. He does not tell Harry. He doesn’t want to burden him.

Their love, along with them, is dead and gone anyway. But when he sees Sirius and James in the white light, for the split second between life and death -

He wonders.

[ecto-american]

The Half-Dead Kids Club

Phic Phight Oneshot for bibliophilea: (AU) Tucker Ghouly was looking for a relaxing weekend with his boyfriend. Too bad the halfa versions of his boyfriend, his boyfriend's sister, and their other best friend crashed the party. [Danny/Tucker]

Also if you've read my Tucker Ghouly AU fic, this is set in the same universe/using the same logic and same eventual ship, and there is a spoiler for things I have planned for that fic too.

On FFN and AO3

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

Tucker sighed, doing a cheesy yawn and stretch as he put his hand over his boyfriend's shoulder. Danny rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to do that every time," he told him. Tucker grinned.

"Yeah, but you're a sucker for it," he replied.

"Can't argue with that," Danny agreed, returning the smile. "Your parents are gonna be out for a while, right?"

"Yeah, and Olivia's sleeping over at her friend's," Tucker replied. Danny's smile widened.

"Sooo…" he said slowly. He leaned in to kiss Tucker instead of finishing his sentence. Tucker happily leaned in too, only to stop when he felt that familiar electrical tingling in his head. He suddenly stood up. Danny stared before snapping to his feet too. "Ghost?"

Tucker nodded as he looked around, going ghost. Danny reached into his pocket for a screwdriver sized-handle, pressing a button that made it spring out into the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick (Mobile Version).

"Can you tell where it-AH!" Danny screamed as a semi-familiar figure came out of seemingly nowhere and crashed into the coffee table. Tucker also screamed, turning on his heel.

The figure was a motionless girl with short black hair, one of the sides of her head shaved to expose an ear with multiple piercings. She wore a dark purple sleeveless shirt and a black skirt, with purple and black tennis shoes. The girl was laying on the wooden pile of the now broken coffee table.

"Aw, man! My mom's gonna kill me!" Tucker cried out.

Danny took a few deep breaths, clutching his chest before nudging the girl with his foot. She groaned in pain. He squinted his eyes at her voice.

"...Sam?" Danny asked. He clicked the button, and the weapon folded back together.

"...Danny?" she moaned softly.

The couple immediately reached down to help her up, setting her on the couch.

"Sam! What happened?" Danny asked. He cupped a bruised cheek, taking note of what injuries she had. "I thought you were going to Florida with your grandma." Sam stared at him, confused.

"What? N-no. No, I….I'm sorry, but are you wearing eyeliner? It looks rad."

"...Yeah? I always wear eyeliner?" Danny said slowly. "How badly did you hit your head? And how did you get here?"

Tucker had watched everything silently, but now he had to say something.

"...This isn't our Sam, dude," he told him. Danny gave him a weird look, and Sam did too, only for her face to drop in surprise upon truly looking at him. "Our Sam would never shave her head." Danny glanced back at Sam, and he had to nod.

"...Yeah, my Tucker's not...glowing," she stated hesitantly. Tucker saw his hand, and he remembered that he was, in fact, still in ghost mode.

"Sorry," he apologized, and the rings formed, but he stopped as his senses went wild once more. Black mist escaped Sam's nostrils as well. "...Hold that thought."

"There's more?" Danny asked, standing up again. Fenton Anti-Creep Stick (Mobile Version) was once again sprung out.

"Whoa, sick!" Sam grinned. She got to her feet too, wobbingly a bit.

"You should rest, you took a nasty fall," Tucker insisted. He took her hands, causing her to flush a light red. Slowly but gently, he made her sit back down. He looked to Danny, leaning in to give him a quick peck. "Make sure she's okay, I'm gonna go investigate."

"Gotcha," Danny confirmed. Tucker jumped up, flying straight into the ceiling and out. Sam rubbed her upper arm anxiously.

"So...you and Tucker, huh?" she asked slowly. Danny nodded.

"Yeah, for a while now," he replied. He raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"No!" she said quickly. "No! Uh, just kinda...weird to see, if I'm being honest. Um...So by now I'm pretty sure I fell into some kind of natural ghost portal to where Tucker's half ghost, and you two are dating….but um...where I'm from, I'm kinda half ghost, and I'm kind of dating Tucker. So! Uh!" She coughed nervously. "Just kinda...not something I'm used to seeing."

"Oh. Ah. Um...I see." Danny shifted from foot to foot before sitting down next to her. "Um. That's uh. Heh. Kinda funny."

"He also goes for the goth look," she continued. "Like, uh, like you. So. Um." She clasped her hands together, resting them on her knee as she crossed her leg. "Just uh...kinda weird." She paused. "Kinda really weird."

"Uh...yeah."

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Danny glanced over to her, clearing his throat.

"...Our Sam's dating Paulina," he suddenly blurted out. Sam choked on nothing.

"I'm WHAT?"

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

Tucker flew out of his house, and he immediately found what was looking for. Two figures, talking as they floated in the sky. A girl with bright blue hair, in blue and white, and a boy with white hair, in black and white.

"Hey," Tucker called out to them. They turned to him, and they stared.

"We're peaceful!" the girl called out. The boy elbowed her in the ribs, making her yelp.

"Who are you?" the boy asked.

"Tucker Ghouly, and you two?"

"Tucker Ghouly…" the boy repeated slowly. He glanced between himself and the girl. "...Wait. Tucker? Is that you? It's me, Danny."

Tucker blinked in confusion as he stared. He squinted, and he could finally sorta see it. If he dyed the hair black, made it a bit longer, added the signature eyeliner...this dude kinda looked like his boyfriend. Though of course, his boyfriend was of course much cuter.

"Danny...Fenton?" he asked slowly. The boy, Danny, quickly made a cut it out motion.

"It's Danny Phantom," he replied.

"And Jazz Phantom!" the girl pipped up. Danny put his hand on her face, pushing her back a bit.

"We're not related," he informed him.

"We kinda are!"

"Do you know where we can talk? Like in private?" the boy asked. Tucker gestured to his house below them.

"Come on, my house should be good."

The two followed him into the living room, and Tucker glanced between his boyfriend and the Not-Sam. His boyfriend had moved to sit in an armchair while Sam was whining and complaining about something he couldn't quite make out, sprawled out dramatically on the couch.

"What did you do?" Tucker asked. Danny shrugged.

"Told her she was dating Paulina here," Danny said, and Sam let out a dramatic shrieking noise. He nodded at the two ghosts. "So why aren't we kicking butt?"

"So, if I'm guessing right," Tucker said slowly, finally turning to the two ghosts that had been just standing there awkwardly. "Ghostly portal nonsense happened, and now we have a bunch of half ghosts here."

"Wait, what?" Danny spoke up.

"I think what Tucker's saying is that me, that Danny, and." Sam sat up, pausing as she stared curiously at the other girl. She cocked her head. "Jazz?" she guessed. Jazz nodded. "Okay, and Jazz, are all half ghosts from another timeline. We need to get back."

"Yeah, and like. Soon. My parents and little sister are gonna be back by Sunday night, and I'm already hiding one half ghost, me." Tucker gestured up and down at himself. "From a Guys in White agent."

"Whoa! Wait, hold up!" the Not-Danny said, holding his hands up. "Your dad's a GIW agent?" Tucker sighed.

"Yeah. He was a cop, but right around the time of the accident he got hired on with them," he replied. "Is your dad one too?"

"No! They're ghost hunters! They run and operate FentonWorks!" Not-Danny grumbled. Danny raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, my parents too," Danny spoke up. "Tucker got shocked when we were trying to troubleshoot it. We uh...we got it running."

Danny visibly sunk in his seat a bit. Tucker immediately turned human, walking over to the armchair. He sat on the arm, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and hugging him close. A reminder that it wasn't his fault.

"Yeah, I got shocked by Mom and Dad's portal too," Jazz finally spoke up. Since Tucker had gone human, she did too. She revealed herself to still be a redhead, wearing a light blue blouse and black jeans, with matching black flats. "My boyfriend, well at the time he was just my best friend, but Spike convinced me that I should check it out. So….I did."

"Spike?" Not-Danny echoed, staring at her weirdly. "Really?" Jazz nodded. "...Huh."

"Yeah, same," Sam nodded. She shifted to pull her legs to her chest. "I was trying to convince Danny to go into the portal, but he said if I was that curious, that I should just do it myself. So I got shocked to hell and back."

"Man, your dad's portal's really been fucking with us all," Tucker told Not-Danny. He made a bit of a face.

"Wait, are you two…?" Not-Danny finally asked. Tucker nodded, affectionately patting Danny's back.

"Yeah, for a bit now," he replied. Not-Danny stared for a moment, shaking his head.

"Kinda weird. I mean, just like, I'm dating Sam," he began, only for Sam to cut him off.

"God, I know right? I'm dating Tucker!" she exclaimed. "And he-"

"Sam looks a lot like me/him!" they somewhat finished the sentence together. Jazz snorted in amusement.

"Apparently halfas have a thing for goths," she joked. Everybody gave a small chuckle.

"But yeah, seriously, I need to get you all the hell out of here before my dad gets back," Tucker said. Sam frowned.

"How are we gonna do that?" she asked.

"Clockwork, duh," Jazz said, as if it was obvious. "We just go through the Fenton portal and find him. He'll put us back."

"Yeah, but um…" Danny paused. "My parents' portal is kinda...destroyed."

The other halfas immediately went into a frenzy of panic.

"WHAT?"

"How is that possible!?

"It's destroyed!? What!? How!?"

"Was it the ecto-filter? It was the ecto-filter wasn't it?

"What did you do!?"

"Hey, hey, hey! HEY!" Danny had to raise his voice to get everybody to settle down. "Look, they're still rebuilding from Uncle Nico destroying it. It's not going to be operational for another few months. I'm sorry."

"Uncle Nico?" Not-Danny echoed. "I don't have an Uncle Nico." Danny stared at him.

"Uh, you don't?" he questioned. "He works with Uncle Vlad?"

"Wait he's your Uncle Vlad!?" Not-Danny seemed to pale. Danny looked so confused.

"...Yeah? He's my godfather. My parents have known him since college, we have family vacations together. What's wrong with him?"

"He's a fruitloop!" Not-Danny nearly screamed, waving his arms dramatically. "He wants to marry my mom and kill my dad, and adopt me as his son!" He turned to Jazz. "Right?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have...absolutely no clue what you're talking about," she said slowly. "Uncle Vlad's great. He bought my brother a car for his sweet sixteen."

"I don't even know a Vlad," Sam agreed. Not-Danny looked like he was going to have a stroke.

"Okay, okay then," Not-Danny scowled. "So who's the old half-ghost asshole that roams around trying to ruin your life?" The other three halfas all went "ohhhh."

"Oh, that's Spectra," Jazz replied, as if it was obvious. "She went to college with my parents. She got hit by the portal and became ugly as well as half ghost, so now she basically makes my life a living hell cause she's mad that I like? Have potential or something? She's my principal, Ms. Penelope Spencer."

"Mrs. Fenton," Sam nodded. "No ghost name. Cause, uh. Well. She got hit by the portal in college and hates herself for being a half ghost. Wants me for experiments so she can cure herself. Reaaal awkward to have dinner over there."

"Danny's Uncle Nico, or Technomancer." Tucker jerked a thumb at his Danny. "Vlad's business partner that got shocked while trying to fix their portal, is now pissy cause he thinks he's better than humans cause he's got ghosts powers. Wants me to join him and be my mentor."

"Okay, so." Not-Danny rubbed his temple. "This is really fucking weird and messing with my head. Can I just go home?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure my parents will start to worry about me soon," Sam agreed, looking at her watch.

"Does your Uncle Nico have a portal?" Jazz wondered. Danny shook his head no.

"He makes his own portals " he said, pointing to his wrist. "It's programmed into his watch."

"We need to take it," Not-Danny blurted out. Everybody stared at him. "What!? It's the only way to get home, I can't be crazy for suggesting that!"

"Uh, I think he might be right," Sam hesitated. "But I mean. This is your guys' world." She nodded to the couple. "Are there any other portals around?"

"Um. No? Not that I know of?" Danny admitted. Tucker thought hard.

"...Would Paulina have one?" Tucker asked. Sam visibly jerked in surprise.

"Paulina? Why Paulina?" she demanded to know. Tucker flinched.

"I uh...kinda ruined her life. So Uncle Nico...sorta...kinda...um...gave her weapons to use against me." He gave a sheepish grin. Sam gawked at him.

"...Paulina. Paulina is the Green Hunter. I don't get it, like. At all."

"Uh, Pink Huntress," Danny corrected. "But yeah."

"Wait, who the fuck could the Green Hunter be?" Not-Danny spoke up.

"Yeah, isn't it supposed to be the Blue Hunter?" Jazz seemed confused.

"No! Red Huntress!" Not-Danny scowled.

"Red?" Jazz raised an eyebrow. "Who's Red?"

"Valerie Gray?" Not-Danny stated as if it was obvious. Jazz had to think hard.

"You mean Danny's friend? Like my brother Danny? I barely know her." She shook her head. "No, the Blue Hunter's Mikey."

"Mikey!?" Sam snorted in amusement. "Oh my god, Mikey. He's seriously your hunter?"

"You never told us who the Green Hunter was!" Not-Danny pointed out.

"Oh! It's Kwan!"

"Kwan!?" Not-Danny was in disbelief. "But he's so sickeningly nice!"

"Oh my fucking god, we're going to be here all weekend if you guys don't stop comparing timelines!" Danny snapped. All the halfas stared at him, a bit guilty. They all murmured some sort of apology.

"So...should we try Paulina?" Tucker asked. Danny sighed.

"We know she has one, it's how she directly puts ghosts back into the Ghost Zone. So it's just a matter of if we wanna challenge Paulina or if we wanna challenge Uncle Nico."

Go up against a half-ghost billionaire tech genius or a weaponized high school cheerleader?

They all stared at each other.

The half-ghost billionaire tech genius was way easier.

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

Plan was in motion.

Danny glanced over his shoulder to look at all the halfas hiding (somewhat badly) in a bush outside of Nico's house. He had his messenger bag on his other shoulder, and a big tupperware container on his hip.

"So he's basically Technus?" Not-Danny whispered. Jazz elbowed him. "OW!"

"SHH!" she hissed back.

Danny rang the doorbell, and everybody waited. A minute passed before the door opened, and the familiar black man with long braids opened the door. He was wearing his dark green shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

"Hey Uncle Nico!" Danny smiled. "Are you free? I've been really struggling with this robot." He used his free hand to pat the top of the tupperware container. "Can you help?"

Nico grinned warmly.

"Course kiddo!" he boomed excitedly. "Come on, come on!" He moved to the side to let the teenager in. Danny thanked him, and they both went inside. Even from the bushes, Tucker could hear the tech genius talking a mile a minute in his outside voice.

"Okay. Danny's gonna try and get Nico into a position where he'll take his watch off, and when that happens, I'll grab it," Tucker told the others. "You guys stay here, I'll go get it."

"We should come with you," Sam Specter replied, trying to take a step forward. Tucker put a hand out to stop her.

"No, you guys really need to stay out here. Nico's got one hell of a ghost system, and he's incredibly powerful to boot. I know how to slip around it, and it's a very delicate procedure," he explained.

"Shouldn't we stick together?" Jazz questioned. Tucker shook his head no.

"No, trust me on this."

"Are you sure?" Not-Danny asked. Tucker scowled.

"Just! Stay here!" he said. He floated towards the property, turning human on the front steps but phasing into the building.

The other three halfas stood around in a semi-circle, staring at each other. Sam broke the stare to look at the ground, lightly kicking at the dirt. Not-Danny sighed impatiently. Jazz looked up at the sky.

"It's just Technus," Sam spoke up.

"Yeah! He's so easy!" Not-Danny scoffed. "He literally shouts his plans all the time."

"I can beat him with one hand tied behind my back!" Jazz agreed.

"So we'll just go in and strongarm it from him, kick butt, and go!" Not-Danny reasoned. Sam smirked.

"Yeah, of course! We'll just speed up the ass-kicking!" she said, punching her fist into her palm confidently.

"Tucker doesn't know what he's talking about," Jazz smiled.

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

All four halfas were spread out in Tucker's living room. Tucker was on the couch, arm over his stomach as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. Sam was face first on the floor, grumbling in pain. Jazz was curled up next to the armchair, on and off grumbling about chest pains. Not-Danny was in said armchair, mirroring his not-sister by being curled up and holding his head.

Danny came into the living room, balancing three pizzas on one hand with four sodas underneath his other arm. He frowned at the three strange halfas.

"Tucker and I told you to stay outside," he rubbed it in. Not-Danny groaned.

"Man, we get it," he complained. Danny rolled his eyes, setting the food on the impromptu coffee table made up of Amazon boxes.

"Well I hope so, cause now we gotta go through Paulina," he replied. He glanced over to Sam. "So hope you're ready to go on a date, Sam."

"Wait, what?" Sam pulled her face up to look at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I am. It's the only way to get her guard down so that Tucker can get her watch so we can find Clockwork and send you guys home." Danny frowned at her. "I'm pretty sure I can make you look like our Sam. Olivia may have a cosplay wig you can borrow, so she won't question why her girlfriend suddenly shaved and somehow unshaved her head. You're going to be the only one who can convince her to take that watch off."

"How on Earth am I supposed to do that?" Sam frowned, rolling onto her back. Danny threw his hands up in the air.

"Figure it out," he scowled. "You guys got yourselves into this mess! We don't have to help you, you know." Sam made a face at him. Tucker reached up to grab Danny's hand.

"Babe, chill. They were just trying to help," Tucker sighed. Danny exhaled too, squeezing his hand.

"We warned them that Technomancer was dangerous," he frowned.

"What's done is done, let's just focus on Paulina."

"...You're right."

Tucker smiled at him, and Danny gave a half-smile back. He let go of Tucker's hand to open the top pizza box.

"Alright, who wanted what?"

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

That next morning, Tucker nearly forgot that he had three other random halfas crash that night in his living room. Jazz and Danny had decided that they could tolerate sleeping on the queen sized pull out sofa together with their not-sibling, leaving Sam free to have the twin air mattress to herself.

He didn't wake them up when he saw them though, instead silently making his way towards his kitchen to get himself a bowl of cereal. Not too long afterwards, he heard Danny come down the stairs and come into the kitchen too.

"Hey," he greeted warmly. Tucker smiled, feeling his stomach flutter a bit.

"Hey, morning," he replied. He held up his box of cereal. "Want some?" Danny shook his head no.

"Nah, I'm gonna raid your poptarts," he replied. He opened the cabinet for them, fishing a packet out to unwrap and toss into the toaster. "When Sam wakes up, we need her to call Paulina and invite her out somewhere."

"But we need to take her someplace where she'll not wear that watch," Tucker mused, opening his fridge for milk. He poured some into his bowl. "She wears it everywhere though. How's she going to get Paulina to take it off?"

"That's why we emphasised so fucking hard to them the other day that Uncle Nico was the better option," Danny grumbled.

"Hey, it's okay," Tucker tried to sooth.

"No it's not," Danny insisted. "They wouldn't listen to us!" Tucker put the milk away. "They said it ourselves, that this is our timeline, and we know our timeline, and we know our rivals. So why did they just ignore everything we said about how powerful and dangerous Technomancer is? It's frustrating, it kinda pisses me off still.

"It's okay," Tucker repeated. He took a step forward to be closer to his boyfriend. "They made a mistake. Our timelines are so similar that they probably just underestimated him. Especially if he's supposedly such a joke in theirs." Danny let out an annoyed huff. Tucker cupped his cheek. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

"...I know, just." He paused, sounding emotionally exhausted. "They should have listened."

"They'll listen now," Tucker smiled. Danny couldn't help but give a small smile back. "We'll likely be able to get them home by dinner at the latest, and we can go out."

"I guess…" Danny took a deep breath. Tucker leaned in and gave him a kiss, and he could feel Danny finally relax.

"Oh, whoa. Um. Sorry," Sam's voice made Danny tense up again, and the couple pulled away from each other. Sam was staring at them, standing awkwardly in the kitchen entrance, looking a bit flushed. "I was uh. Hungry. Um. Sorry, just that you look so much like my Danny and Tucker, and the whole um. Yeah. I'll just..." She reached for the sole remaining pizza box, quickly opening it and grabbing a leftover slice and hurrying out of the kitchen. Danny huffed again.

"This is our timeline," he grumbled, his frustrations turning into inaudible mutters. The toaster popped, making them both briefly jump. He grabbed his poptarts, and Tucker collected his bowl and a spoon. The couple went into the living room.

Not-Danny and Jazz were both awake by now, sitting cross legged on the pull out bed as Sam sat in the armchair.

"Okay," Danny began as he stepped into the living room. He pointed to Sam with his poptart. "You can use my phone to call Paulina and ask her to meet you today." Sam looked physically pained at the idea.

"Do I have to?" Sam whined. Danny frowned, taking a bite of his poptart.

"If, uh, other me, is right, you're the only one who's going to be able to convince her," Not-Danny spoke up. Jazz nodded in agreement. Sam dramatically slammed her head against the cushiony back of the armchair.

"...Fine." She held her hand out, and Danny pulled his cell phone out, pulling up Paulina's number. He put it in her hand, and Sam stared at the contact. She took a deep breath before pressing the call button. After a few rings, somebody picked the phone up.

"Um? Danny?" Paulina sounded confused. Sam gave a pained grimace.

"Hey...uh...baby?" Danny waved his poptart in the air in a what the fuck motion. Sam mirrored it back to him.

"...Sam? Is that you? I thought you were in Florida with your grandma this weekend? Why are you calling from Danny's phone."

"Um. No? I lost my phone," she awkwardly replied. Danny motioned for her to keep talking. "Uh, hey! Wanna meet up today?"

"Sure! Do you wanna go mall cruising?" Paulina asked.

"Uh yeah! Sounds fun! How about?" Sam paused to glance at the wall clock. "Say in an hour?"

"Sounds perfect! I can't wait to see you!"

"You...too." Everybody could tell that it took everything for Sam to force that sentence out. "Goodbye. I miss you."

"Byebye!"

Sam hung up the phone, handing it back to Danny. He was frowning at her.

"That was terrible," he told her. Sam scowled. "Come on. We need to get you looking like our Sam."

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

"Ugh, why is there so much hair?" Sam complained. She pulled on the wig to adjust it some. Apparently the Sam here had long hair, and it felt so heavy. And this outfit was so...nerdy. This was going to be a terrible day.

"Stop pulling on it!" Danny hissed. "We can't afford to blow this twice."

"Here," Tucker spoke up. He handed her a watch. "Just try and switch the watches if you can." Sam hesitantly took it. She turned it over in her hand.

"Once you switch, give us some kind of signal," Not-Danny added.

"And we'll make a distraction," Jazz chimed in.

"Won't she notice if I switch it then?" Sam asked. Danny shook his head no.

"No, her bracelet is her ghost hunting gear, the watch is just a portal device."

Sam glanced between all of them worriedly as she pocketed the device.

"You got this," Tucker smiled. She reluctantly nodded.

"Pink Huntress, coming right for us," Danny said, nodding ahead of them as he lightly slapped Tucker with the back of his hand. Not-Danny and Jazz immediately rushed away.

"Good luck!" Tucker whispered to her as he and Danny grabbed each other's hand, quickly walking off to pretend that they just happened to be having their own date out at the mall.

Sam smiled weakly as Paulina bounced up to her. She wasn't in the dark pink and black attire Sam was used to, but a long sleeved light pink shirt with white shorts, hair pulled back in a long french braid.

"Hey!" Paulina greeted her warmly. Sam forced a bigger smile.

"Hey!" she replied.

"Where do you wanna go first?" Paulina asked, immediately reaching to grab Sam's hand. The halfa flinched at first, jerking away before quickly remembering, and she took Paulina's hand. The huntress raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on it.

"Uh, wherever you wanna go!" Sam replied lightly.

"Hmm," Paulina lightly mused. "How about Sephora?"

"Uh, sure," Sam agreed.

Thankfully Paulina was still chatty, and so Sam wasn't forced to make conversation, but simply just listen as Paulina talked on the walk towards the store. She mostly talked about her Starbucks job, since she had apparently come straight from there to the mall. Sam couldn't imagine her own Paulina actually working at all, but she guessed it seemed to make sense that this Paulina did. Sam kinda...fucked Kwan over, even though it was unintentional, and he had to take up a part time job at the Skulk N Lurk because of it.

The store came up, and Paulina broke away from Sam to excitedly hurry in.

"Ooo, Sam! Look!" She smiled, pointing out a display of bright pastels, primarily warm tones. "These are so pretty!" Paulina opened the display palette, looking at the colors. Sam came up next to her, studying the colors.

"Oh wow, those look so pretty," Sam had to admit.

"Yeah, but I don't know if they'd look too good on me," Paulina mused. She took the test brush, and she applied the color to her inner arm. Sam watched, and the idea hit her.

"...Hey, Paulina? Do you wanna take your watch off so you don't get makeup on it?" Sam questioned. Paulina glanced at it, thinking for a minute before nodding.

"Yeah, probably a good idea," she agreed. She slipped it off, handing it to Sam. "Can you hold it for a moment?"

"Of course!" Sam smiled. She accepted it.

Paulina returned her attention to the sample palette, and she began to swatch her arm with it. Heart pounding, Sam quickly made the exchange, putting the real one in her pocket and holding the fake one while Paulina was distracted. She glanced over to see Danny a few isles over, watching her from the corner of his eye as he looked at makeup. She gave a small nod. Danny gave a short nod back, and she saw him exit the store.

Sam returned her attention fully to her

A small beeping came from Paulina, and Sam raised an eyebrow at her. It was still...weird to think of her mortal enemy as being the hunter-er, huntress. Paulina glanced around worriedly.

"Uh, hey Sam? I totally forgot, my papa-," she began, pulling her phone out. Sam could see that obviously, nobody was calling, but she nodded anyway.

"Oh, don't worry! Go on, I understand!" she said. Paulina smiled in relief. Sam held up the fake watch. "Don't forget this!"

"Oh, right!" Paulina used one of the free wet wipes, quickly wiping the swatches off before putting the watch back on. "Thanks! You're the best!" she chirped. "Call me when you find your phone!"

Paulina exited the store in a hurry, and Sam followed. She saw her already near the exit of the mall, opening the door and leaving. The halfa jumped when a hand rested on her shoulder. She turned to see Danny.

"Hey, you get it?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"I gave you the signal, didn't I?" she said. She reached into her pocket to pull the watch out. Danny plucked it from her fingers, turning it over. He sighed in relief.

"This is it," he confirmed. "The other Danny and Jazz went to wait for us outside. Tucker's making a distraction, and once he's done, we'll finally get you guys home."

A rush of air blew hit them as Tucker Ghouly flew by. A feminine figure in pink, riding a skateboard style hoverboard, was close on his heels.

"...Assuming Paulina doesn't finally get him."

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

"I'm so glad that's over," Danny sighed as they plopped onto Tucker's couch. Tucker gave a small hum. Luckily it took no time to find Clockwork and send everybody home.

"Yeah. Just gotta figure out what to do about this," he mused, pushing the Amazon box coffee table with his food. Danny waved it off.

"We can go to Ikea tomorrow," he replied. He held his hand out for Tucker to take, and the halfa immediately did.

"We also need to call Sam and let her know what we did in case Paulina asks," Tucker said. Danny grumbled tiredly.

"...We'll call her in a bit," he promised him.

"At some point we need to find a way to slip that bracelet back to Paulina."

"Problem for another day."

They sat in silence for a bit. Just resting. Just chilling, until Danny finally spoke up again. "...you know what's kinda cool?" Tucker brushed his thumb over the back of Danny's hand, giving a curious hum in response. "...It's kinda nice to know that it's seemingly meant to be. You know. Us. Halfas and goths getting together." Tucker grinned.

"Yeah, that is kinda nice," he agreed. He let go of Danny hand to stand up. "Come on. I promised you some food."

"Finally."

[writingtantrums]

big spoon || remus lupin

Pairings: Remus Lupin X Reader

Summary: You’ve been captured by Death Eaters for a few weeks, recovery is hard but at least Remus is there for you.

Warnings: Torture, panic attacks

Screams ripped out of your throat as a curse rippled through you. If you could have moved you’d be trembling but, you hadn’t had that privilege for a few days. The last thing you could remember before they took you was his green eyes, wide in horror and the start of your name on his tongue. Another red flash and you were consumed in pain again, black dots appearing in front of you as you felt yourself losing consciousness. You knew if you just opened your mouth, answered their questions, it would all end. You wanted it to end so badly, you wanted to tell them what they wanted but you knew that you’d rather die with the information then live as a coward. As your eyelids drooped you heard a loud bang. Flashes of light suddenly exploded all around the room, a warm hand cupped your bruised cheek. Green eyes were the only thing you saw before you passed out.

The next thing you were able to process was a dull ache in your head and the sound of hushed whispers. A soft groan was all you were able to manage at the moment and the voices immediately stopped.

“She’s awake, go get him.” A familiar voice whispered loudly and a trampling of footsteps immediately thunder away.

You open your eyes slowly and it takes a second for things to focus, with a happy start you realize you can move your body again. You hold your hand up to your face and wiggle your fingers, a dopey grin and a choked sob show how relieved you are to be able to do that again. You barely register the way that the ground has started shaking until it’s right outside of the small room. In a second the door is flung open and he’s standing there, chest heaving and eyes wild. They calm for a second when they meet yours and suddenly you are enveloped in his arms. His shoulders shaking as he openly sobs. You lay there a little shocked, you haven’t had kind human contact in so long that you can’t help but freeze.

“Remus?” You croak out, your voice has only been used for screaming and telling people to fuck off for the past few weeks so you suppose it’s okay that you sound like a 90 year old smoker for a little.

“Y/N,” His voice trembles, and he pulls away from the embrace to look at you.

You watch the way that his brow furrows in distaste at the state of your face, he carefully runs a thumb over your raw skin and you suck in a quick breath as it stings. His fingers flinch away from your face and he sighs. You notice the way that the skin under his eyes, always a little tired, seemed to be stained with dark circles. You frown at him, struggling to sit up so you can get a better look at him. You don’t like seeing him like this.

“I’m okay,” He assures you with a watery chuckle, running his fingers through his greying hair. “Though I feel as if our roles should be reversed.”

“I’m okay too.” You say, wincing as he pushes you back down into the bed.

“You shouldn’t be moving.” He says sternly, “We would have taken you to a real hospital like Saint Mungo's but...Well you know. Molly’s done her best but she isn’t a professional healer so you’ll need to stay put for a while. Can you do that for me, love?”

You nod, a little annoyed but too tired to argue. Even this little interaction has left you drained. Your eyelids flutter shut despite your desire to stay awake.

“Sleep.” Remus whispers, brushing his lips against your forehead.

You think you nod but you can’t remember if you actually do or not because you find yourself slipping into a deep sleep.

.....

A week of sitting in a bed and you’re finally allowed to walk around. The first few steps of your new freedom are wobbly but you manage, flipping Remus off whenever he tries to help.

“You should sit down.” He frets, tugging lightly at your arm as you make it up the stairs. He stops nagging at the nasty look you give him, hands raised in surrender. You’re tired of being babied, all anybody has done since you’ve been back is treat you like an invalid. You were lucky if you could grab a cup of water on your own without someone taking over.

“I’m perfectly fine making it up the stairs Rem,” You huff though you can feel your body becoming tired. You’ve lost a lot of muscle over the past few weeks, what used to be easy tasks now leave you wiped out.

He hums and raises his eyebrows, doubting your words. You make a face again but move in to give his shoulder a light kiss. You feel his arm wrap around your shoulder and you sigh happily, leaning into him slightly. You pout a little when he moves away, but he ignores you as he leads you to your old room at the end of the hall. You push the door open and suddenly you’re nervous. Remus has been at your side every second of the day but at night you force him to go sleep in an actual bed and not the much too small chair next to your sick bed. You mostly do it because you know that his body, already sore from transforming every month, would protest greatly to sleeping in a chair but you also do it because at night, the quiet let’s you think about what happened there.

“Are you alright?” His hand is at the small of your back, fingertips pushing you slightly in the direction of the bed. You shoot him a look to let him know he isn’t being sneaky and he gives you a slightly embarrassed smile at being caught.

“Fine.” You say, clearing your throat and walking over to the bed. He sits next to you, knee lightly knocking against yours.

There is a silence that falls over the two of you, it comfortable but you can feel a lingering sense of sorrow.

“I was so worried about you.” Remus says, breaking the silence. “I saw you get hit by one of the Death Eaters, I tried to get to you but…”

“It’s okay Remus.” You coo, grabbing his hands in yours and squeezing them tightly. You watch him shake his head and furrow his brow.

“It isn’t.” He swallows thickly and you can feel the way his hands are shaking. “I should have gotten to you in time. If I was better maybe I would have gotten to you in time and you wouldn’t have had to go through that. I can’t...I couldn’t function with you gone. Everytime I closed my eyes I could see them and you and….”

“Remus, it wasn’t your fault. If anything it was mine.” You sigh, suddenly annoyed at yourself. “I lost focus for just a second and he got me. Mad-Eye would be so damn mad at me if he knew, you know how much he makes us practice.”

“Well if it can’t be my fault it can’t be your fault either.” He says with a deep sigh.

“Deal.” You say with a soft laugh.

.....

He falls asleep before you that night. Soft snores as you’re brushing your teeth tells you that he’s really out. You brush some hair out of his face. You love watching the way his face becomes peaceful when he sleeps. It’s as if the years of trauma and difficulties just slip away and he’s just a young man again. You wish he could always look like that, peaceful and unworried. Sighing, you lie down and look up at the ceiling until you swear that it’s been hours. With a loud snort Remus rolls over and wraps his arms tightly around you. At first it’s fine, you enjoy the warmth that it brings but after a minute you realize you can’t move.

“Rem.” You whisper, struggling to wake him up so that your heart can stop pounding so fast. He mumbles a few incoherent words but doesn’t wake up.

You’re trying not to remember the way that the spell bound your arms to your side the way his arms are and how claustrophobic you feel. Quick gasps pepper your breath and you use all of your strength to shove him away from you. You need to be able to move, you need to get away from him now. With a second shove he rolls off the bed and jumps up immediately when he hits the floor, eyes wide. You make eye contact for a second, tears spilling from your eyes and chest heaving for air before you flee to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

You feel his body hit the door right after you close it but you can’t let him in right now. You lock the door quickly and you hear him fumble with the door knob.

“Y/N!” Remus calls your name.

You feel yourself shaking violently, a panicked laugh bubbles up and spills out from your lips before becoming heart wrenching sobs.

“You need to breathe love.” Remus says, his voice softening as he hears you choking on tears.

“I literally can’t.” You manage to pant between quick gasps.

“Can you let me in?” He begs, jiggling the doorknob again. You want to let him in but you also want to be alone to have a mental breakdown.

“No.” You stutter, should your heart be pounding so loudly all over your body like this? You’re starting to feel light headed, hyperventilating is definitely not helping.

“Please?” He coos, quiet requests for you to let him in and calming sentences that you can barely register.

“I think….I’m having a….fucking heart attack.” You gasp, clutching at your shirt and trying to pull it away from your body.

“No darling, it’s a panic attack.” Remus answers quietly. “You need to try and breathe or you’re going to faint.”

“I’m...trying.” You force yourself to focus on your breath. You can hear Remus counting and breathing loudly, instructing you to do what your body should be perfectly good at doing all on its own. You focus on the way his inhales sound, imagining the way his shoulders would rise and fall, and how the tiled floor feels on your bare feet. In a few breaths you no longer feel like throwing up and you stop leaning against the wall.

“Can you please let me in Y/N?” You hear him beg again.

You slowly unlock the door and look up at him. His face is tense, eyebrows drawn together and jaw clenched tight.

“Sorry for pushing you out of the bed.” You try to joke, but a look at his face shuts you up.

“Y/N, what happened?” Remus gently clasps his hands around yours and pushes his lips to the top of your head, mumbling into your hair he asks “Did I do something?”

You shake your head but then you sigh realizing that it isn’t completely true. “You were cuddling me.”

He pulls away from you, hurt evident on his face but he says nothing as he waits for you to continue.

“I couldn’t move Rem, I felt like...I just couldn’t move.” You hear your voice tremble and you  shove your face into his chest as tears slip from your eyes.

“Oh.” Realization in his voice, wrapping one arm loosely around your head he kisses your hairline and mumbles soft apologies that you shush away.

After that night you become the big spoon as you learn to accept the comfort of his arms once again.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Grey Eyes

This is in response to a prompt I received:

camryn-bria I have a Linzin headcanon that there is a secret (airbending) child.  Could you write a one-shot of Tenzin finding out Lin is pregnant after breaking up with her.

I’ll probably put in a better summary, tags or notes later on. But hope you enjoy this 😊 

(So I had too much fun (maybe) with this and it ended up being a two-parter rather than a one-shot, hope this is okay)

Lin/Tenzin pre-canon fanfic | 1 of 2

 Legend of Korra

---

Despite what the public thought, Chief Toph Beifong was not a heartless person.

While truly a strong woman, it did not mean she did not have emotions. Family and friends played a huge role in occupying a space in her heart.

Family.

It was precisely because of family why she was pacing in front of the doctor’s examination room.

Toph closed her eyes in worry.

Of her two daughters, Lin was the one most like her.

Her youngest daughter, Suyin, at her current state, probably was who her own mother wanted her to be.

Initially scoffed at and at the brink of being of being disrespected, Toph Beifong later on was reputed to be one of the toughest police chiefs that the region has even had.

She had welcomed her daughter during her second year as a police chief of Republic City. The father, unfortunately, passed.

Lin’s father was Toph’s fellow detective. Toph had just given birth to her and was out of the force when Kanto responded to a call. He was hit and he died.

Since then, Toph promised herself that it would simply not do to miss time at work.

The first few months of raising Lin were particularly difficult. She had then elected to live near her married friends, Aang and Katara.

Toph took it hard – spent time away from Lin for the next months and sent her to Air Temple Island. She eventually got back to her senses, realizing her daughter needed her and had reached back to take care of Lin.

Lin always wanted to be like her mother and the father she barely met. Suyin, on the other hand, well, that was another story.

“Mom.”

Toph’s reverie was interrupted by the soft voice of her eldest child.

“Oh, Lin.”

In Lin’s hand was an ultrasound photo of a child, Lin took her mother’s hand and read out to her the notes on the photo.

Indeed, Lin was the child most like her mother.

 ---

What was he doing here? He has some nerve.

“Aunt Toph?

She tried to ignore the tall bald man in her office.

“Aunt Toph?”

Persistent little bugger, eh?

“That’s Chief Beifong to you.” She felt him squirm and fidget. “The citizens desk is on the other floor. Or have you gotten lost?”

“I, uh, no. I actually wanted to see Lin.”

“Captain Beifong, you mean.”

She felt him flinch. Good.

“I -.”

“Don’t you worry your bald head about it, Master Tenzin.” Aspersion dripping with every word. “Captain Beifong is away on suspension. She won’t be bothering you any time soon.”

“But – no! I didn’t come here to complain or file charges.” Toph could here the shock at Tenzin’s voice. “You didn’t have to – she didn’t need to be suspended!”

Chief Beifong ignored him. “Captain Beifong caused destruction to property – Air Temple Island’s reconstruction will be done soonest – and basically threatened you, a government official. She would have received worse.”

“But -.”

“Is there anything else, Councilman?”

“Uhm, no. I’ll just drop by Lin’s.”

“She not there,” Toph felt the airbender pause at her door. “She’s suspended until further notice; and she been sent away from Republic City.”

 ---

At least that was what the press was informed, to explain away the disappearance of a prominent person

But internally, with the higher ups in the Republic City Police Department, they knew differently. They were told that she was out undercover and they better not try to make contact – or there will be consequences.

Toph was proud of her daughter’s strategy. She had been an absentee mother in the past years. She wanted to make up for it by supporting Lin’s decisions.

Even if it meant no contact with her in the next months.

 ---

Lin found herself in a remote Earth Kingdom town which used to be a Fire Nation colony. She had come to this place years ago in a recon mission and had known that there were a good mix of nations, making it easy to blend in.

Her current mission was not anything dangerous – just another reconnaissance mission to look into whether there was some truth to the formation of a new organization similar to the New Ozai Society, who would seek to undermine the United Republic.

As someone fresh out of her 20s, Lin thought she was (or she should be) fit enough for the job at the local bar. Thankfully, she was able to convince the barkeep to hire her even after telling him of her predicament (she wondered if maybe the man really just needed help so badly). She also figured it was a good place to get in with the locals and, well, the local gossip.

Lin opted to keep her first name (common as it was anyway), rented a small apartment unit walking distance from the city center, and now, had landed a job  (that hopefully placed her in a good spot to fulfill her mission) which paid adequate wages.

She felt she was prepared to start anew – a new job, a new mission, and a baby on the way.

 ---

Tenzin huffed as he consulted his map.

He had gone to Gaoling, to the Beifong ancestral home (that was were Suyin was sent there before anyway. But Lin wasn’t there.

He even went out of his way and chanced a visit to Zaofu.

Su was surprised to see him and, no, she has not seen or talked to her sister in years.

Instead, the airbender got a slap for his efforts (“You idiot! You broke my sister’s heart!” “You weren’t even talking to her! You don’t know what’s with her.” “I knew enough to know that she loves you!”).

He tossed the map aside. He was stumped; he didn’t know where else to look for Lin.

He did not even notice his mother, watching from the doorway of his study, looking at him with concern.

 ---

“Hey, get away from him!”

“Eh! And what’re you gunn’ do ‘bout that lady?”

“I’ll show you!”

“What the -!”

“Scram!”

“Alright, we’re going – we’re going!”

The earthbender turned to the young man on the ground (maybe late teens or early twenties in age, she guessed) who was of Water Tribe ethnicity. “Hey kid, are you okay?”

“I’m fine – didn’t need your help.” The man grumbled, standing up and dusting himself.

“Right.” The woman stated, obviously not believing it as she had just walked across the scene of several benders pulling up by his collar, whether they were mugging him or not, she did not wait to find out before launching some rocks from the road at the thieves. “Of course, you didn’t need help. You had it all in control, didn’t you?” She deadpanned.

The man rolled his eyes. “A truth seer, aren’t you?”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe.”

“No – I don’t think so.” The water tribe man shook his head. “Thanks though.”

The earthbender extended to shake his hand.

“Lin.”

He clasped it with his own.

“Noatak.”

 ----

Months passed and Tenzin had not lost hope in finding Lin, but he had to admit that the hope was fast dwindling.

Twice Chief Beifong had said that Captain Beifong’s whereabouts were none of his business and that she will put his sorry ass in jail if he pried once more.

Neither Chief Beifong or anyone from his family shared any input to the media as to his relationship status. The disappearance of Lin Beifong and the sudden reconstruction of some of the pavilions at Air Temple Island made up much of the chatter and gossip though.

His cheerless disposition just about confirmed everything anyway.

 ---

Meanwhile, in the Earth Kingdom, Lin finally gathered enough courage to send out a letter to Tenzin. She had used a post office’s box from two towns away to ensure that he would not be led directly to her should he decide to respond.

After contemplating on the matter for the past months, and after finally admitting to herself, she decided to give Tenzin the option to be a father to their child.

It was the least she could do. She did not want her (their) child to grow up without a father if he was willing to be there. She knew, she grew up with, the alternative to that.

We may no longer be together, but it does not change the fact that this child is yours as well. I’m giving you this chance – to either declare this child as your own or to simply ignore and disregard this. I am fully capable of raising this child as my own so I am open to giving you an out.

Well then, so the proverbial ball was in the airbender’s court.

Gently, placing a hand on her now visible pregnant belly, Lin knew the waiting game has started.

 ---

In an ill-conceived attempt to raise his spirits, the Air Acolytes of Air Temple Island saw it fit to host a birthday celebration for him. His mother had given it a go signal as she was also at her wits’ end to help bolster his mood. Even the passing of her husband (his father) did not seem to have dragged him down this way.

What Katara did not know, however, was that the press had somewhat managed to get in with the festivities as well.

The papers for the next few days ran a feature on the last airbender’s birthday celebration. They also printed a picture of him with just about any single female he talked to during the party.

This was followed by a steady stream of letters and messages poured into Air Temple Island as well as into Tenzin’s office at city hall.

The first few letters, Tenzin had deigned to read.

But after the seventeenth letter, the airbender, with a furious blush on his skin, went to the kitchen where his mother was calmly instructing an acolyte for tonight’s dinner.

“Mother!”

Katara dismissed the acolyte before turning to her son. “What is it?” She held out her hand to take one of the letters that Tenzin was waving at her.

The waterbender briefly went through the letter. It appeared that –

“They have been sending me propositions!” Tenzin exasperatedly explained, showing the envelopes with addresses coming from different parts of the world. “Ever since the broadsheets and tabloids have been putting in these features about me being single.” He continued to pace in the kitchen while Katara went through the other letters. The content was fairly similar – a Fire Nation noble offering his daughter in marriage, an Air Acoylte from the Eastern Temple sharing her daughter’s knowledge of all things Air Nomad culture, an Earth Kingdom merchant living in the upper ring boasting of his niece… “I’m not interested in any of these, Mother. I just – I just -.” He took a deep breath. “I need to find Lin. It’s only been Lin.”

Katara could believe that.

“I know – Mother, if letters come to the island for me, please send it to my office. I’ll have my secretary handle them.”

And with that, Tenzin swept away, leaving Katara to only wonder and hope that whatever he thought of would truly help him out.

 ---

I see.

So he has made his choice.

Lin gripped tightly the letter she received in response to the one she had sent.

She tried but there was nothing she owed him now.

The earthbender then tossed the letter into her drawer, to be hidden from prying eyes, to try and forget its existence.

 Thank you for your interest but I already have a life partner.

I would like to request for your respect in this avenue and refrain from sending any more letters in this similar vein.

Respectfully yours,

Tenzin

 ---

Noatak knocked on the door one more time.

Lin was nearing her due date and the barkeep had place a notice for a reliever, a substitute while Lin was out.

The Water Tribe man took the opportunity – he had been juggling different jobs in town anyway so what’s one more?

Lin had been showing the ropes to him the past few days and was always ever so prompt so that they have enough time before opening.

This was why he stood at her front door now. The earthbender failed to show up at their regular time and so he worried.

“Lin? Are you there?”

There was no answer.

Something felt very wrong.

He looked to the left and looked to the right. No one was around and so putting his entire weight on it, he hit his shoulder against the door several times until it gave way.

“LIN!”

To his shock and horror, the pregnant lady slumped unconscious at her living room, blood surrounding her at the floor.

Noatak hurried to her, feeling her pulse and closing his eyes.

He had been hiding a secret for so long, no one knew in this new life he had been living. As far as they knew, he was a non-bender – no one had paused to ask, except this woman who had asked him and had graciously not pried further when he said he did not want to talk about his past. He knew she was trying to start a new life, but he wasn’t sure why. She respected him enough as well to leave him to his privacy.

That day when the muggers had almost done him in, he thought that would have been the end of it, revenge be damned. To his surprise, someone did intervene for him.

Enough reminiscing for now though, because now, this woman needed him.

Taking a deep breath, Noatak reached forward his arms, allowing him to feel the push and pull from the two lives in front of him, not in the way his father wanted him to but to save these lives.

 ---

Tenzin was absentmindedly tapping his pen on today’s agenda in the council meeting.

The monotony of his responsibilities to the city barely weighed on him now.

It was the same old routine at the council.

His interest was peaked when the doors opened and a man, who he recognized as Chief Beifong’s trusted secretary, hurried over to the Chief of Police’s side, whispering quickly.

Toph Beifong suddenly stood up, muttering her excuses to the rest of the attendees of the council meeting and left (something about an urgent matter regarding one of her subordinates’ mission?).

 ---

“Chief, it would appear that the Captain has now given birth to a daughter.”

“What! I need to get to her.”

“Unfortunately, protocols still state that no contact be made -.”

“But I’m her mother.”

“Please, Chief Beifong, Captain Beifong explicitly indicated that in her report as well. Everything is okay and not to let you go to her as it would impact her cover.”

Nonetheless, this did not stop Toph Beifong from instructing her secretary to send off a large box of baby things to a remote town in the Earth Kingdom.

 ---

The last airbender quickly made his way out of the restaurant where that farce of a stilted family dinner (that his mother insisted on) was still on-going.

It had been uncomfortable enough when Chief Beifong arrived, nary a word towards him but quite civil with his mother and their visitors. At some point during the meal, the Fire Lord started to pass around photographs of his teenaged grandson and even Chief Beifong was obliged to share photos of her own grandchildren.

Tenzin tried to ignore the longing gaze his mother had on the photographs.

He met the eyes of his brother, who coincidentally was stationed this week near Republic City, who in turn shrugged back at him.

Yeah, that’s not happening. Unless someone comes forward to speak up about the fruits of Bumi having sown his wild oats, their mother would need to wait a little longer to have her own grandchild.

“And who might this be?” His mother brought up a photo of a baby.

“Did Su have another child?” Fire Lord Zuko peered at the small plastic booklet that Toph had fished from her uniform’s pocket.

“Eh?” Toph reached out to get it back, fingers running through the little indentions at the edge, helping her identify the labels on the photos.

Tenzin did not miss the quick panic that showed on the metalbender’s face before it was back to her inscrutable expression.

“It’s an old photo of one of her boys.” She promptly placed the booklet of photos back into her pocket. “I must have taken it by accident.”

As the rest went about their meal, Tenzin could not help but revert to the photograph of the baby. The baby appeared to be a couple of months old and…there was something that was niggling the back of his head about the child.

Conversation went to work, the new policies in the United Forces, the statue of Fire Lord Zuko in Republic City… They were all pleasantries that Tenzin did not want to talk about.

As soon as it was acceptable, he had excused himself from dinner, citing an urgent deliverable from city hall. No one tried to stop him and everyone took it at face value. He had, after all, buried himself into work in the past months in between trying to look for Lin. The airbender simply did not believe anymore that she was merely suspended from the Force after being absent for more than a year now.

Tenzin thought that Suyin Beifong, by now, would have an idea as to her sister’s whereabouts. Recalling their last interaction, however, he rubbed his cheek gingerly in recollection, he felt he needed to soften her up first.

Coming from that awkward dinner conversation, he had an idea.

Her children!

 And that was how the airbender found himself at the nearest open store that catered to mothers that carried items (food, clothes, furniture, you name it) for their children.

Tenzin had a vague recollection on how old Su’s children were. He was unsure, though, as to what do kids at those age need or want. He figured that the store’s clerk would know and headed to the store’s counter, waiting until the clerk finished assisting two ladies in selecting the best bassinet that the store offers.

The airbender leaned on the glass counter, tapping absentmindedly as he was wont to do when waiting --- when he saw a brown box just behind the counter hidden from view of the common customer (it just so happened he was tall and nosy enough to see it). There was a small sticky note that caught his attention:

Monthly order of Chief Beifong.

Why on earth would Aunt Toph have a monthly order at this place when her own children have long since grown up?

Tenzin twisted his neck to peer at the label of the box, to check the address, thinking that maybe it was headed to Zaofu for Suyin and her kids.

To his confusion, it was to a place within the Earth Kingdom.

Tenzin froze.

What if…it was to another daughter and grandchild?

The photograph!

He now realized what bothered him – the baby in the photo was relatively fair-skinned and he was sure both of Su and Baatar’s children were tanned. Su was also not pregnant back when he last saw her so it could not have been a new Zaofu Beifong baby.

Toph Beifong would be hard-pressed to care about children or babies unless they were related to her.

This left Tenzin with only one plausible explanation.

 The airbender then left the store, hurriedly making plans to get to the Earth Kingdom by the next day.

 ----

And there she was – as radiant as the last time he saw her (never mind that it was in the middle of the unleashing of her powerful fury upon his childhood home).

With a pang, Tenzin saw Lin Beifong carrying a baby, accompanied by a tall (and very young, Tenzin thought unpleasantly) man who appeared to be of Water Tribe descent. The two were engrossed in conversation that they missed the airbender who had been staring after them.

Tenzin had arrived at the town square and was about to head to the address he had committed to memory when he saw Lin. He was about to approach her when the Water Tribe man intercepted her. The airbender noted the familiarity with which the two interacted (it felt like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs). The man offered to take what Tenzin assumed to be a baby bag and Lin had easily acquiesced.

He surreptitiously followed Lin, unsure where they were going but not wanting to take the risk of losing sight of the earthbender he had been searching for quite some time now.

As he watched every exchange of the two, Tenzin could not help but feel at a loss. He had tried to think of every possible scenario, of what he would say, what he would do once he found Lin.

But none of the scenarios he imagined prepared him for the reality.

He never did imagine finding Lin as a mother.

He never did imagine finding Lin with a partner.

And she looked – content.

Tenzin felt a pit form at the bottom of his stomach. Could he – should he – possibly ruin this with his appearance?

Call him selfish but…he’ll try just one last time. If there was an inkling, of the slightest chance of a future with Lin --- he’ll gamble it.

For himself. For Lin.

 ---

“Jinora, sweetheart, be a good girl for Noatak first, please? Mama needs to work for a bit.”

The eight-month-old child burrowed herself further into her mother’s arms but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl.” Lin gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead as the younger man hoisted the child, anchoring her to his hip.

Lin had gone back to work on a part-time basis, but more on the management side of the bar (accounting, menu planning, etc) rather than being actually behind the counter, serving the customers like before. The barkeep was pleased with Noatak’s performance during Lin’s maternity leave that he had decided to hire him full-time.

They would usually come to the bar before opening hours, Lin to check on the previous night’s accounting and Noatak with preparing with the rest of the crew.

Lin was scheduled to start with the local bookstore soon on her off-days from the bar.

Today, it was accounting morning at the bar. She would usually be able to have an hour or two of continuous work while the crew would take turns looking after her daughter if she were awake. If not, Jinora would be placed on her sling and Lin could still comfortably work.

Getting out several folders and her writing implements, Lin pulled out a chair near the window, preferring the natural light while working.

She managed to work for around ten minutes when a shadow fell on her work; before she could even raise her head to address who or what was blocking her light, she turned her head to the inner part of the bar as she heard her name being called.

“Liiiin!”

 ---

When he saw the Water Tribe man leave Lin with the child, Tenzin saw his chance.

He took some time to deliberate though; he observed her quietly, soaking in his view of the woman he had let go (and would be claiming back, if she would have him).

He took a bracing breath and entered the bar.

“Lin!”

Lin would look up at him. “Tenzin! What are you doing here?”

He would kneel – “I’m so sorry Lin, I know you have a child, I’ll love her like she were my own – I promise to treat you better than Mr Water Tribe there. Please Lin Beifong please – I regret letting you go, if you’ll have me, I’ll want to spend the rest of my life proving my devotion to you. Please- Lin please.”

Then Lin would get up, maybe give him a slap harder than what Su gave him then give him a hug before making him work for it.

Before he could even say a single word to put his imagined scenario into action, another voice (that he was starting to dislike) rang out.

“Liiiin!”

“Yes, Noatak?” Lin stood up quickly to address the young man, who was carrying a giggling baby at arm’s length. “What is it? How is Jinora?”

Tenzin felt his heart skip a beat, that Lin named her daughter one of the names he wanted for their daughter… well, he was not sure how he felt about it. Maybe he will explore it a little bit more when he was alone but for now…

“I know I helped bring her into this world –,”

Tenzin blinked at the sudden hurt he felt at his chest at this.

“But please, Lin – take your evil spawn away from me.” Noatak thrusted the still giggling child dramatically back at her mother, half kidding and half exasperated. “You know how much time it takes me each more to fix my hair. Then this little girl here,” He tickles her side and Jinora squeals with laughter. “Decides to blow a gust of air to my face – imagine that!”

The airbender heard this and froze.

“I know you said this brat (“My daughter isn’t a brat!”) is part-Water Tribe,” He gestured to his now unkempt hair. “But I don’t think this is a sign of respecting her culture?”

“My daughter is acting fine.”  Jinora kicked her chubby legs as though to prove a point, disturbing the dust on the floor. “And we did discuss this – no training until she’s older. I want her to have a normal childhood.”

“Ok then,” Noatak waved his hand and nodded, obviously agreeing. “Anyway, I’m in charge of family meal today so I better start prepping.” With one last tickle at the baby’s side, he left and headed to the kitchen.

Lin shook her head and called after him “I’ll pack up and get back to the books later!” It would seem her daughter was in a mood today.

Speaking of meals…

Jinora had been tugging at her chest. “Feeding time is it?”

 Tenzin watched Lin smile softly at the baby, a smile he saw rarely, a smile that he only saw between the dark of the night and daybreak, in between sleep and wakefulness as they laid in bed together.

He cleared his throat to remove a lump that was forming, a signal of impending tears.

Lin had forgotten about the newcomer as she angled the baby go position her for feeding when she heard someone clear their throat.

“I’m sorry, how can I help –,” Her eyes met familiar grey ones. “You.”

 ---

There was a lot to take in.

The Earth Kingdom.

Lin.

The Water Tribe man (Noatak, he spat.)

Lin.

The baby.

The airbending baby.

Jinora.

There was no doubt on whose child Lin was carrying.

Tenzin pushed forward at the surprised earthbender to take them (her and their daughter!) into his arms.

----

Note: This is part one of two --- ooor we could end it there? 🤷🏼‍♀️ Let me know!

(how do you tag people anyway?? @camryn-bria

---

2 of 2 here.

[jaxsteamblog]

Hair

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

The party went a lot better than Katara had feared. Of course there were the ones that Zuko had to invite, but they were already edging toward the door. Then there were the ones she hadn’t agreed with inviting in the first place, but Mai seemed content talking with Thuy and the twins.

Of the rest, they were all friends and family. The Air Nomad cousins flitted around, Sokka was telling a story to a group of uneasy ministers, and Suki was oddly conversational with Ty Lee. Hakoda and Malina circulated around, with Malina looking much more comfortable in the space than Hakoda.

“Happy Birthday Zuko!” Malina called out as they both approached.

“Thanks Malina.” Zuko replied and hugged her.

Katara looked away, not wanting to be so close to the neatly woven necklace the other woman was wearing. Her fingers twitched as she fought the urge to touch the medallion at her own throat.

“Katara, you look beautiful.” Malina said, clasping her hands together at her chest.

“Thank you. It feels a bit weird.” Katara laughed awkwardly and touched her crown. “I think I might have to cut my hair to get-”

“NO.” Malina said forcefully, startling Katara.

Shrinking, Malina’s face reddened and she stepped back.

“Sorry. It’s…” Malina calmed, set her shoulders, and looked back up at Katara. “You and my brother have the best hair. You shouldn’t cut it, it’s too lovely.”

“Malina has a bit of hair envy.” Hakoda said, holding her hand.

“My grandfather was an Airbender, and my mother and I inherited his complexion. It’s why I don’t always...fit.” Malina said, waving her hand near her head. Her reddish hair was cut short and very modern. It had been one of the things that irritated Katara when they first met.

“I hadn’t realized you’re a quarter Air Nomad.” Zuko said.

“It happens more often than you’d think. They don’t have a problem with relationships, but they only take Airbenders into the temples.” Malina said. “If you know anyone from the Poles that’s, well, like me, they most likely have an Airbender parent or grandparent.”

Katara thought about Hama’s ghoulish appearance and gave a small grunt.

“But yes, I’ve always wanted the thick hair of the Poles. I don’t look like any of the Waterbenders from my childhood books, you know?” Malina gave a laugh, as if it didn’t bother her, but Katara could hear the pain in it.

It wasn’t something she cared about, but she could recognize it.

As the party wound down, the Katara slipped out to the wide porch attached to the back of the hall. Sokka and Suki were already there, a bottle of something mysterious open and being poured into four glasses.

Zuko tried to slip out soon after, but Druk’s clattering talons gave him away. Katara only huffed as Druk propelled himself into her lap while Zuko sat next to her.

“Remember the first birthday of yours we celebrated?” Sokka asked, handing over a filled glass.

“I try not to.” Zuko said and Katara laughed.

“Remember how Katara’s biggest problem was medical school?” Suki asked and Katara’s laugh turned into a groan.

“Do you ever wish you had just become a doctor?” Sokka asked.

Katara shrugged, taking a sip from her glass and idly stroking Druk’s crest.

“I think I was only trying to be a doctor because of mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I went to school for myself.” She said.

“Did you ever go to college, Suki?” Zuko asked.

Suki shook her head.

“There was no need. I had a job in Kyoshi, and now I just make sure Sokka survives whatever it is y’all drag him into.” She answered.

Sokka stuck out his tongue and Suki pushed him.

“You know, now that things have settled down, I’m trying to think of what to do next.” Katara asked.

“Things have settled down?” Zuko retorted and she chuckled.

“You know what I mean.” She then sighed and tilted her glass back and forth. “I have to think about what comes next.”

“I can’t imagine your situation is easy.” Suki said.

Zuko and Katara looked at each other.

“It’s gotten easier for me, since I don’t have to deal with the day to day things. The Prime Minister is a pain, but it has freed up a lot of my time.” Zuko said before downing the rest of his glass.

“But no one in Caldera likes you being in the Poles so often.” Katara countered and Zuko shrugged, holding his glass out to Sokka for a refill.

“What will you do when you have kids?” Sokka asked.

Katara squeezed Druk’s fur and he squeeked, nipping her hand before bounding off her lap.

“We can’t have kids right now.” She said.

Sokka raised an eyebrow and she felt her face warm.

“It’s a lot of things, but tonight, Malina said…” Katara drifted and hastily took a drink.

“Malina said what?” Sokka prompted.

Katara swallowed slowly and put both hands around the glass, tapping the sides with her fingers.

“It doesn’t matter.” She mumbled.

“I think it-” Sokka stopped as Suki held his arm.

“I think it’s a private matter.” She said, tilting her head toward Zuko.

“Fine. How about we play liar’s dice?” Sokka asked, fishing out two dice from his pocket.

“I am going to regret this.” Zuko groaned.

~

Katara sat at the vanity, the crown in her hands. It was late in the night and the palace was eerily quiet after such a busy day. She could hear Zuko in the adjacent bathroom, the shower acting like white noise.

Placing the crown on the vanity, Katara leaned forward and examined her face. Thirty was fast approaching and she looked at the tiny fissures near her eyes. Benders as a whole tended to live longer and aged slower than the non-Bender population. It was one reason why Malina looked so uncomfortably young standing next to Hakoda, despite them being close in age. Benders also didn’t conceive as often or as quickly, so they could have children far past others without worrying about major health risks or complications.

So it made sense when Sokka announced that he and Suki were trying for children.

But that conversation was another brick in the tower Zuko had been building for months.

As the shower shut off, Katara opened one of her cream jars and lifted it, breathing in the scent of seaweed and salt. She started to apply it just as Zuko came into the room, followed by a rolling fog of warm, jasmine scented steam.

He was wearing his pajama pants and his towel was around his neck, so Katara got a good look at his chest as he watched her.

Tossing the towel in a hamper, Zuko walked over and stood behind Katara, reaching over her to grab her brush.

“Your hair is so heavy when it gets wet.” He said, grabbing a portion in his hand. Starting at the ends, Zuko worked the brush slowly up her hair, carefully plucking free any knots.

“Maybe I should cut it.” Katara said lightly, rubbing the cream into her face in small circles.

“If that’s what you want. I’d hate to see it go.” Zuko replied.

“I like your hair long.”

“You know, back when Agni Kais were more common, this kind of length would have meaning.” Zuko smiled and lifted another section of hair. “Now it’s just custom.”

“Do you think…” Katara stopped and lowered her hands. Wiping them off on a cloth, she screwed the lid on her face cream.

“Would you be upset if our kids had my hair?” Zuko asked.

Katara snapped her head up, looking at him through the mirror. He kept his eyes down, brushing her hair.

“That isn’t it.” She said.

“Isn’t it?” He asked.

Katara turned and took hold of Zuko’s hand holding her brush.

“Where would our children fit in?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” Zuko finally looked at her and Katara winced. His was a pain she cared about.

“We don’t live together, Zuko. We spend weeks out the year together but that’s mostly when we’re at Avatar Island. These visits aren’t…” She drifted again, unable to vocalize her frustrations.

“That could change.” Zuko said.

“How? If we have a Waterbender, they’re going to be my heir. Any other and they’re yours. We have to acknowledge that people will not be happy if they don’t live in the right spot and then what about us? Could you be apart from me and our children?” Katara stood and hugged Zuko tightly.

“Every time I think about hair or complexion or bending, it just reminds me that I’m never going to have a Water Tribe child that I raise in a small village. Our child will always be somewhere in the middle and I. I don’t know if I want that.” She continued.

Zuko wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her just as tight.

“I know, Katara, I do. But I can’t explain how badly I want a child. How badly I want our child.” He said. “I’ll get Thuy to pull the Poles down here if it means I get to be a parent with you.”

“But Zuko,” Katara tilted her head back to look at him. “What if I just want it to be us?”

He stepped back and took her face in his hands. His eyes flicked back and forth between hers.

“Katara, do not ask a Fire Lord what he would do to get what he wants.” He said and Katara took in a sharp breath.

“But children-”

“Our children.” His fingers pressed into the back of her head and Katara leaned toward him. “I will have you and no one else.”

“Zuko-”

“I will do whatever I must to prove to you that this will be okay. We can adopt. We can have one child or a dozen. I will raise volcanoes to make islands so that I can walk from here to anywhere in the world to be with you. You are my home, Katara, and I will be the only one in your life for as long as you want if you just say eventually we can have a family.”

Katara was silent as she stared back at him.

“I want a palace.” She said.

“Done. Where should I put it?”

“Republic City.”

Zuko blinked and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Beloved wife, I’ll make sure they build one large enough I can see it from here.” He said.

“Good.” Katara stepped closer to him and pulled his hands down to her sides. “And we can talk about one or two.”

In bed, Katara laid her hands on her abdomen. Counting the phases of the moon, she wondered. It could be as early as next month.

Her heart fluttered but it wasn’t such a bad feeling this time.

Feeling Zuko shift in his sleep, Katara looked over at him.

Maybe later. She wanted more time as his sole favorite.

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[nvvermore]

Angel of Music

Beatrice’s vocal lessons with Amaryllis begin, and the both of them learn much more during these lessons than they’d ever expected to

words: 9k~

Amaryllis’s POV by me/Beatrice’s POV by @juliandev0rak

—

Unfortunately for Amaryllis, Beatrice was a good student.

It sounded like a silly thing to lament over, but it was easy for a good student to sniff out a bad teacher. So, Amaryllis needed to work extra hard to appear as natural as possible in such a position. It didn’t help that yesterday Nadia had also informed them that Beatrice happened to be a teacher herself. Not versed in music, but there had to be a method to these things that it was clear they would be missing.

She’d come prepared, with a journal for notes, water, and even mentioned she took time to practice last night. Despite her outward anxiety, it was clear Beatrice felt excited. But, her attitude didn’t change Amaryllis’s  unpreparedness. So far, they had been improvising, banking on her lack of experience and their charisma to fill in the blanks. They were nothing if not an actor.

Now, the two had finished discussing Beatrice’s experience level, as never having had an instructor meant very little. Amaryllis never had one either and they were doing fine. That detail they left out though. But she was proficient on the piano and had a secure grasp on reading music, and had sung for fun her entire life.

Amaryllis stood from the chaise where the two had been sitting side by side. They held out a hand to Beatrice, whose eyes flashed from their face to the offered hand before taking it. Without thought, their thumb brushed over the back of her hand, her skin soft to the touch. As soon as she was on her feet she pulled away, and Amaryllis mourned the loss.

“An important part of singing is remembering your whole body is the instrument. You need to be mindful of your entire being. It may sound difficult, but with practice it will become second nature.” Amaryllis explains as they watch Beatrice watch them. Her hazel eyes dart away when the two make eye contact.

“First step to a session is to stretch. You want your body to be loose, especially your torso. Follow after me.” Amaryllis raises their arms above their head, stretching their shoulders. “Hold for thirty,” They instruct, looking to Beatrice for understanding. Though instead of stretching, she’s starting again. This time, her gaze is on the hem of their dress, where it’s ridden up due to the stretching. The already risqué length had become even more revealing, pale skin a striking contrast to their dark outfit.

“See something you like?” The taunt snaps Beatrice out of it, and her hands nervously dart to the clasp of her cloak. “That seems a little heavy, perhaps you'd like to take it off?”

“Ah, um, yes! Of course.” her fingers stop their fiddling to undo the clasp, and she slips off the garment and hangs it on the back of a chair. Now, it’s Amaryllis’s turn to stare. Sans-cloak, Beatrice is in a light-colored lace gown. It was modest— especially compared to Amaryllis— but not any less mesmerizing. Beatrice catches them staring and they do nothing to hide that they were, lips quirked into a sly grin. She clears her throat, eager to continue.

“So what exactly is the reasoning for loosening up?”

“Tension in your body puts strain on your muscles, including the ones used in signing. When that happens, your ability and range gets cut a significant amount. Proper posture goes hand in hand with relaxation. One can have the most beautiful voice, but it all falls apart if they’re holding themself wrong.”

Together, they finish up the basic stretches, and Amaryllis retreats to the piano. They finger out a simple scale a few times over, ruby eyes never leaving Beatrice.

“Sing for me.“

An inhale, a shaky exhale, and then she begins to vocalize. She’s very quiet, Amaryllis can hardly hear her over the sound of the piano. But they smile at her and nod, a small push of encouragement. Little by little, she loosens up, growing louder as they go through the scales. Moving up and down in octaves until they pass Beatrice’s range. Her voice is light and airy, ethereal despite the hesitation behind it. An impressive high range, and that was with no breath control practice. When they told her yesterday they'd make her into a prima donna, it had been to tease. But now they’ve heard her, Amaryllis thought it might not be an impossible feat.

Amaryllis ceases their playing. Still watching Beatrice, they could pick up on the subtle tremors that ran through her. She was doing her very best to be discreet in regards to her nerves. They stood from the bench to direct her to sit back down on the chaise, fetching water for her in the process. As she drank it down, Amaryllis fought the impulse to brush her hair back out of her face. The urge to comfort her with any touch. But they didn't know how such a gesture would be received, and the unusual desire to do so brought them discomfort.

“You have a beautiful voice,” their soft complement breaks through the silence. Beatrice looked at them with wide eyes, expression flattered and confused all at once. “It’s true. Right now, your biggest setback is your nerves, and that will fade in time. But the tension you carry because of it can create pitch issues.”

“Oh,” Beatrice whispers, voice trailing off as she takes in the information. Her mouth opens to finish her thought, but loses her words when Amaryllis’s hand is on her chin. They tilt her head up to look at them, the same way they'd done so yesterday.

“You should always accept a compliment as if you truly believe it. That way, one day, you will.”

“I-”

“Your voice is beautiful.” Beatrice looks torn, face flushed and Amaryllis can tell she wants to glance away from them so badly. But she doesn't, and they stand over her patiently while she finds the resolve they know she has.

“Thank you.” Her voice is steady, and while Amaryllis knows it's not likely she believes it yet, it's certainly a good start. Satisfied, their thumb brushes across Beatrice’s jaw before pulling away. They don't watch for any reaction, deciding they've maybe pushed her a bit too much already. Standing across the room now, they decide to get back to the actual vocal lesson.

“Now that I've heard you sing without any corrections, let's go over what exactly we'll work on together.”

The rest of the lesson passes faster than Amaryllis wanted it to. They go over breath control and pitch issues, how to practice and how to work the areas she needed to in particular. Beatrice was attentive, asked careful questions and took detailed notes. The next time Amaryllis had her sing she did so with a little less hesitance. Their own hesitance surrounding teaching faded too. It felt less like they were teacher and student, and more like they were having a conversation. Before they knew it, two hours had passed, and didn’t want to keep Beatrice any longer. Even if a persistent part of their mind said they did.

“Well, It's about time you gave your voice a rest. I‘d consider this first session a great success.” Beatrice stood a few feet away from where Amaryllis sat on the bench. She looked almost disappointed at the concept of the lesson’s conclusion. Glancing around the room, her eyes landed on the grandfather clock in the corner.

“Ah, I suppose you are correct,” her hands darted to where her cloak normally sat. When she found it missing, her fingers faltered. “So how often do you think I should have lessons?”

“Weekly will be best. Much of the progress you're going to make will happen during practice. And as long as you take time to do so each day, you'll see it in little time. But if you have questions or need assistance outside of lessons, you know where to find me.” Amaryllis retrieved their grimoire from the piano lid as Beatrice gathered her things. The green cloak resumed its place on her shoulders, and Amaryllis felt endeared by the quirk. Together, they made for the doors.

“Amaryllis, I,” Beatrice began once they exited the room, “I’d like to thank you. I never thought I'd ever take lessons, let alone ones from you.” The admiration of others rarely phased them, it was another aspect of their everyday. But Beatrice’s gratitude made them feel something unlike any kind they’d received before.

“The pleasure is all mine. You're a very promising student after all.”

“Thank you,” she said with the same conviction as she did after Amaryllis’s complement earlier. Feeling a sense of pride, they smiled at her, genuine.

“Have a good evening, Beatrice.”

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

Beatrice shows up to the next lesson early, notebook and water in hand. She tries the door to the practice room and finds it locked, so she sinks down onto the floor to sit and wait. She’s just pulled her notebook out of her bag and is reviewing her notes from last week when she hears the now familiar sound of Amaryllis’ heels approaching down the hallway. She hurriedly stuffs the notebook back into her bag just as Amaryllis turns the corner. “Well hello,” Amaryllis smiles, offering their hand to help Beatrice up, “Need a hand?”

“Oh, yes thank you,” Beatrice takes their hand, trying not to seem too eager as she reaches for them. She lets go of their hand as soon as she’s up, not wanting to make things awkward by lingering.

“Shall we begin?” Amaryllis says, holding the door open for her. She sets her bag down on the chaise and takes her cloak off, not noticing the way Amaryllis watches her from across the room. Her hands go to her clothes, making sure her blouse is tucked in properly and fluffing the fabric of her skirt to make sure it lays flat. She takes a sip of water, a deep breath, and turns to face Amaryllis.

This lesson starts better than the last. Beatrice is less nervous now that she knows what to expect, now that she knows that Amaryllis is both a good teacher and a kind person. She hadn’t expected ridicule by any means, but hearing genuine compliments from them had made her both slightly giddy and a lot more confident. Beatrice loves to learn and if she simply treats these lessons as just that, a lesson, a chance to learn something, she’ll be fine.

As she sings through a few warm up exercises her eyes follow Amaryllis as they play the piano. They seem to notice her staring at them and look up to meet her eyes, causing Beatrice to falter on the note. She tries to recover from the mistake quickly but Amaryllis stops playing and stands up from the piano bench, taking a step towards her.

“You’re too tense again,” Amaryllis explains, their hands going to her shoulders to gently push them down from where she’d lifted them as she'd sung, “Relax your shoulders, remember what I said about tension and stress?” 

“Yes, I remember,” Beatrice smiles, willing her voice to stay steady and her shoulders not to shake under their touch. Amaryllis returns the smile as their left hand gently moves further down her shoulder. They fiddle with the ruffle on her sleeve briefly before removing both of their hands and taking a step away from her. Beatrice breathes in sharply in response and tries to ignore the feeling of her sleeves pressing against her arms just as Amaryllis’ fingers had been

“You’re doing very well, Beatrice. Just relax,” Amaryllis says as they return to their place at the piano bench. She’s grateful that they’re busy shuffling through sheet music and can’t see the way her cheeks color at the praise. They start to play one of the songs she’d sung last week and nod at her to begin. 

Beatrice makes it through with only minor mistakes but she still can’t seem to focus when Amaryllis looks up from the piano to watch her. She messes up words, sings off key, and even sometimes grows so quiet she can’t be heard until Amaryllis looks away. She struggles to fight against these reactions, deciding to stare at a spot on the wall behind them so that she won’t notice Amaryllis looking at her. It seems to work and the next run through of the song goes more smoothly. 

During a water break Beatrice gives herself a pep talk, reminding herself that this is simply a lesson, something she can learn to excel at if she follows the rules. The reminder gives her some resolve and she’s able to focus her attention on singing rather than her (very distracting) teacher. As she sings she remembers to breathe and relax her shoulders, she tries to tune out everything but the notes from the piano. She hits a note she’d struggled to hit the week before and smiles in surprise. Her eyes float down from their safe spot on the wall to look at Amaryllis, who watches them with an unreadable expression on their face before it fades into something more neutral.

“That was great!” Amaryllis says, “Let’s do that part again to see if you can hit the note twice in a row.”

The lesson moves quickly once she’s able to focus, and before she knows it Beatrice is pulling her cloak back on and preparing to leave. She stands by the door for a moment, watching as Amaryllis gathers their sheet music. Though the sight of them still makes her a bit nervous, the feeling has faded from self consciousness to something else, something she doesn’t quite want to think about yet.

“You’ve improved since last week,” Amaryllis says, turning around to face her. They give her an encouraging smile and Beatrice meets their eyes, for once managing not to blush as they gaze at her.

“You think so?” Beatrice asks, returning the smile.

“You’re a very quick learner when you’re using that brain of yours to focus instead of overthinking,” Amaryllis replies, their smile turning into more of a smirk. Beatrice does blush then, laughing under her breath as she stares down at her boots.

“Yes, well, I’m working on it,” She says, fiddling with the closure on her overstuffed bag, “I’m glad to hear I’m improving.” 

“You really are, just make sure to practice so you can remember everything you’ve learned this week.” Amaryllis holds the door open for her, gesturing for her to walk out before them. She suddenly feels like she should say something else, the lesson had come to a close too quickly.

“Amaryllis,” Beatrice starts, wondering what she should even say. Should she ask them if they’re going to dinner at the palace? Should she suggest going somewhere else together? No. Surely Amaryllis sees her as nothing more than a student, or maybe a friend if she’s lucky. There’s no guarantee Amaryllis would want to spend more time with her than is necessary, so she changes course, “Thanks again.” 

“You’re very welcome. I’ll see you next week, Beatrice,” Amaryllis replies, turning to walk down the hall.

Beatrice watches them go, trying not to let her eyes linger in places they shouldn’t. Amaryllis’ tight dress leaves nothing to the imagination, and if Beatrice is being honest she has been imagining. She clears her throat and turns the other direction, headed back to the safety of the palace proper. It’ll be a long week waiting to see them again.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

“It’s impressive,” Beatrice comments one day, in the middle of a lesson.

“What’s impressive?” They hadn’t been discussing anything in particular, so it seemed out of place.

“The dedication you have for your craft, all the effort you put into it. And I'm sure I don't even know the half of it.” As she explained, Beatrice sounded composed, but her rosy cheeks gave her away.

Amaryllis blinked, somewhat stunned, though they gave no outward indication of it. They had already recognized that hearing praise from Beatrice felt different somehow. But since their lessons had begun, the flutter they felt when she did so had only grown.

“Please,” Amaryllis waved a dismissive hand, “when you've been at it for as long as I have, it’s hardly any effort at all.”

“You know, I recall you telling me a few weeks ago to, ‘always accept a compliment as if you truly believe it’.”

Beatrice’s words paired with the smug air she said them with caught Amaryllis by surprise. For a split-second, all they could do was stare at her. Being called out for deflection, with their own words, was unexpected from her. As they'd known Beatrice thus far, it was uncharacteristic. And so was their own delight at the notion Beatrice was becoming more comfortable with them. Recovered, they propped their elbows back on the piano, leaning back against it.

All Amaryllis could think of was different ways they'd like to wipe the smirk off her rose-tinted lips. They favored the concept of doing so with their own mouth.

“Do you now?” they mimicked her attitude, cocky expression falling into place as easy as breathing. Easier, even. “I hope you’ve been practicing that part of my lessons too. I’m sure you get enough compliments to do so.” At least, Amaryllis hoped she did, that at least someone was out there taking the time to cherish her. Instead of the bashful reaction they had been hoping for, Beatrice frowned.

“Ah, not usually, no-“

“That’s a shame,” they cut her off, stepping away from the piano to stand before her. Being this close made that flutter Amaryllis was feeling speed up. The last thing they wanted was for Beatrice to frown. And if no one else was taking the time to tell her all the sweet things she should hear, they were more than happy to step up. Accepting compliments built confidence, and confidence was vital to singing. It was simply another part of the lesson, that was all. With a gentle hand, Amaryllis brushed tawny waves out of her face, keeping her from hiding behind them now. “With how lovely you are, I had expected there'd be someone to shower you with sweet words."

Voice low and velvety, they ran their fingers down her cheek. Nails just barely grazing her neck before their hand pulled away. Beatrice wasn't frowning anymore, but was watching them with wide-eyed astonishment. For a moment, Amaryllis's resolve faltered.

They thought about kissing her, it would only take another step, a tilt of her head. But, what actually shocked Amaryllis is that they did not. Instead, as swift as they had approached, they were back against the piano.

Beatrice was their student, and so it would be improper to persue her...

…Which didn’t hold up in the slightest, because never in their life had they cared about what was proper or not. Student or not, under typical circumstances, Amaryllis would have had her in their bed by now. But that was it, wasn’t it? That nothing concerning Beatrice was at all typical. From their opposition to simply seducing her to their reactions to the things that she did. Amaryllis couldn’t recall a time when they’d felt this way before.

They had decided to entertain their intrigue when they offered her lessons. But Amaryllis hadn’t imagined that it would shift in the direction they were afraid it was heading.

“Thank you,” her breathy voice pulled them back into the room. It took them a second to realize she was thanking them for the compliment. Beatrice was biting her lip, watching them with those hazel eyes they couldn’t quite get a read on.

All they could do was turn away from her, but not before they could hide away their smile. Amaryllis tried to stay focused on the lesson, and not on the dangerous territory they were heading into.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

They’ve done more talking than singing, Beatrice realizes as she looks at the clock. It’s been an hour since the lesson started and they’ve been sitting on the couch talking the entire time, neither realizing how much time has passed. The topics of conversation have ranged, what began as small talk about the rainy weather had evolved into how they’d each come to be employed at the palace. Amaryllis doesn’t give many details, but Beatrice drinks in every piece of their story she can get and tries to ignore the urge to pry.

Over the course of the hour Beatrice has loosened up considerably, her posture is slouched and her legs are tucked under her as she sits criss cross on the couch rather than her usual polite ankle cross. She’s surprised to find how easy it is to talk to Amaryllis, how easily she can let her guard down to talk about herself more than she usually would. When Amaryllis asks a question she finds herself answering without thinking. They seem genuinely interested in her answers, leaning towards her as she speaks and asking follow up questions.

“What made you want to teach?” Amaryllis asks, their voice pulling her gaze back from the clock on the wall.

“Well, I never had a real education as a child, I learned manners and needlepoint and all sorts of useless things like that, but science, literature, history- everything I know I’ve learned on my own,” Beatrice explains, her voice rising in volume as it often does when she’s excited, “Vesuvia doesn’t offer an education for those who can’t afford to pay tutors, and I think that should change.” 

“So you just marched up to the Countess and suggested opening a school?” Amaryllis grins, their eyes trained to Beatrice’s face which is for once free of any hint of anxiety as she smiles proudly at them. The image of Beatrice stomping up the palace steps in her green cloak with a look of determination on her face makes Amaryllis suppress a laugh. 

“Believe it or not, I did! I requested a meeting and left less than an hour later to pick a spot to build the school,” Beatrice laughs, “Nadia wasn’t difficult to convince.”

“I’m sure you can be very convincing when you want to be,” Amaryllis says, reaching to play with the lace trim at the bottom of her dress. Beatrice watches the action closely, not pulling away when their hand briefly brushes against her leg. “Well, I suppose we should get started on the singing lesson, we’ve delayed quite a bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Beatrice nearly trips over her dress as she gets up from the chaise.

“You have nothing to apologize for, I very much enjoyed getting to know you better,” Amaryllis replies, smoothing their clothing down as they walk across the room to the piano.

“I enjoyed it too,” Beatrice smiles, “getting to know you.” 

“I should have you play sometime, I remember you being quite proficient during our first lesson,” Amaryllis says as they take their seat at the instrument. 

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not very accomplished anymore. I wish I had more time to practice the piano, but there are only so many hours in a day,” Beatrice replies, taking her usual spot standing next to them.

“Would you like to play something now?” Amaryllis suggests, patting the spot next to them on the piano bench, “I’m sure you’re great.”

“Oh, well, sure if you’d like to hear me play,” Beatrice hesitates for a moment before she takes a seat next to them, trying to smooth her dress down a bit so she doesn’t take up too much room on the bench. Amaryllis smiles and moves a bit closer so that their leg is pressed to hers, she can feel the warmth of their skin through the fabric of her dress and works hard to regain her composure.

“I would love to hear you play,” Amaryllis says directly into her ear, their mouth barely brushing against her skin. She manages to only shiver the tiniest bit as Amaryllis leans away from her again, turning their attention back to the piano. Beatrice takes an only slightly shaky breath and reaches for the keys. Her fingers pluck a familiar tune, one she’d learned when she was younger and forced to sit through hours of lessons every day. She shuts her eyes as she plays it by memory, tuning out Amaryllis next to her and the distracting ticking of the clock on the wall behind her. 

When she finishes the song, a short piece designed more for practice than performance, she pulls her hands back into her lap and looks up at Amaryllis to gauge their reaction. The smile on their face is different than any Beatrice has seen before. It has more emotion behind it, admiration perhaps, and she feels a flutter in her stomach at the thought. 

“That was lovely, Beatrice. I thought you said you were out of practice? That sounded well practiced to me,” Amaryllis laughs, the smile replaced by their usual expression.

“Thank you. I used to hate that song so much, it would get stuck in my head for hours and I’d  find myself playing the notes in the air all the time like some sort of compulsion,” Beatrice sighs, her fingers flexing in her lap at the memory, “But I’m glad the torment payed off.” 

“Well I’ll stop torturing you then,” Amaryllis jokes, bumping Beatrice slightly off the piano bench with their hip, “I think we’ll leave the piano to me for now, let’s begin the lesson.”

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

Amaryllis’s fingers still on the keys of the piano as the song comes to an end. Beatrice’s singing was lovely— as always— but something was off. What, they weren’t exactly sure. The warm up went fine, she didn’t seem stiff or nervous in the slightest, and  minimal issues with her pitch. She’d taken a breath or two at a bad moment, and at one point a whole note became a half, but neither of those were serious.

They realize that they may just be projecting their feelings onto her. A comment of hers from before had been bothering Amaryllis, much more than it should have. Beatrice’s anecdote about having no say in performing a song that she hated had struck close to home. Literally.

Beatrice had never given any indication that she was unhappy with the music they chose for her. But Amaryllis had never directly asked her what she wanted to sing either.

“Amaryllis, is everything alright?” Beatrice spoke up. Suddenly they realized they hadn’t said a word in the time since the song had concluded. There was a nervous edge to her voice, the tone making an unwelcome appearance for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, I apologize,” they stood from the bench, feeling the sudden urge to move.

“Is there, um, a problem?” Her words were hesitant, uneasy. When Amaryllis turned to her, Beatrice's eyes were downcast, focused on the carpet.

“Oh, ma chérie, no. You were wonderful, don’t worry.” The endearment had slipped out without thought. Bringing a hand to her back, Amaryllis ushered her over to sit with them. They felt uneasy, but maintained their composure, focused on how soft the satin of her dress felt.

“Sorry, I-” Amaryllis faltered. Their hand was still at her back, lower now, and as much as they longed to leave it there they knew they shouldn't. Not only was the gesture a little too friendly, but feeling how thin her dress seemed to be was distracting. “I’d like to ask, what kind of music do you want to sing?”

Once Beatrice had taken in their question, she relaxed, taking a moment to consider her answer.

“I suppose whatever kind suits my voice best?” She sounded uncertain, and her hazel eyes flitting back to the ground was a confirmation. Amaryllis was having none of that.

“Ah,” their hand came up to her chin, tilting her gaze back to them, “that’s not how this works.” The two were close, but not quite as close as they had been at the piano bench last week. As Amaryllis looked down at her, the rose-colored lipstick she wore caught their eye. They gave into the temptation to stare, for a little too long.

Amaryllis is back to the same dilemma as they had been weeks ago. They wanted to kiss her, wanted to see the color on her lips smeared and mixed with their own. It was the same conundrum, but it had grown far more complicated than it had been weeks ago.

They dreaded the conclusion of their lessons, and counted the days until the next one. And between lessons they’d started seeing each other much more often during the rest of the week. During court functions and other meetings, Amaryllis had found themself in Beatrice's company. They ran into each other in the halls of the palace— literally, one time— and when on stage they looked for her in the crowd. She was never difficult to spot.

As of late, their compositions reflected their feelings. Even inspiration for the masquerade came easy, knowing she'd be in that crowd too.

Amaryllis wanted her. But now, they wanted far more than a kiss or a single night, and not in the way they were familiar with wanting someone. Wanted to hold her hand, wanted to listen to her ramble, wanted to sing with her. Wanted to know her, and had even contemplated letting her know them in return.

But they couldn’t let themself. It was foolish— to be afraid of the feelings and to have them at all in the first place. In some ways, it felt like something of a betrayal. Beatrice had trusted Amaryllis to instruct her, not to fall for her.

Finally, they avert their gaze, torn to see Beatrice watching them with a similar longing. It would have been far easier to lean into her instead of pulling themself away completely. Even if Amaryllis knew she'd be receptive, they had to have some self-preservation. They knew it wouldn’t be enough to just take what they could get from her. It would be better to let the infatuation fade than feed the fire; it would hurt far less.

“Passion is far more important.” Amaryllis leans back against the chaise. “Doing what’s ‘technically’ correct means nothing if it's not what makes you happy. Singing for the sake of arbitrary rules will only bring you dread.” They're familiar with the way it feels to lose your passion, and the trauma of it was a deep-seated pain. Beatrice’s brow creases as they speak, picking up on what their insistence indicates. “So when I ask you what you’d like to sing, I need you to answer with how you feel.”

“I’d like to sing things that I can find meaning in. The song we’ve been working on, it’s beautiful, but I can’t relate to it no matter how I attempt to interpret it. Coming from me it feels insincere.”

“I may have something in particular you'd like.” The words are out before Amaryllis can even grasp what exactly they were deciding to offer. But they couldn't take it back now, not with the delighted way Beatrice was looking at them.

Without standing, they motion in the air, and their grimoire soars over from where it had placed on the piano. Amaryllis sets the book of music before them. With their hands on the cover, they whisper the incantation that unlocks it.

Beatrice had scooted forward, leaning in, but still far enough for her to pretend she wasn't being nosy. Amaryllis knew she must have a billion questions, and they would happily listen to her voice each one. But, she only asked one.

“What is it about?”

It was a simple question, but not one with a simple answer. That was why Amaryllis had written it into a song after all. Emotions and experiences were too difficult for them to express in a usual manner. If their feelings were to be expressed at all, they had to do so in a different way.

“You’ll see,” they left it at that, casting the projection spell for the piano. Sitting up straight, Amaryllis rolled their shoulders back, and began to sing.

The lyrics they sang painted the picture of a neglected child. The intense sorrow they felt. What they dreamed of to help them through each day. The helplessness that came when they realized the dreams were only that. Dreams, and nothing more.

With a final, shaky note, they looked to Beatrice. She was silent, lips parted and eyes glassy. For a moment, Amaryllis worries they'd upset her, but then she reaches out to rest her hand on their knee.

“Amaryllis, that was beautiful,” she blinks away the tears that had threatened to fall. “You’d trust me to sing that?”

“Of course,” they place their hand over hers.

“Then, I’d love to.”

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

Beatrice wakes up groggily, rolling over in bed only to come face to face with a rabbit staring directly at her. “Oh, good morning, Bramble,” she says, reaching to scratch the rabbit between her ears. She winces at the sound of her voice, it sounds scratchy and her throat hurts a bit when she swallows. She decides to test her voice again, “Shall we get some breakfast?” it’s definitely still scratchy. 

She worries as she goes about her morning routine, wondering if she’ll be able to sing at all later. She’s been practicing in all of her spare moments, and perhaps that’s why she has no voice left for her real practice. Still, work doesn’t stop for a lost voice and she has a meeting with Nadia in an hour so she clasps her cloak, grabs her bag, and starts the trek across town.

When she arrives in Nadia’s parlor, a prompt five minutes early, she realizes how winded she feels. The moment she opens her mouth to greet Nadia she knows she might really be in trouble. 

“Good morning,” She croaks, pasting a cheerful smile on her face in the hopes of distracting the Countess. 

“Oh dear, Beatrice are you feeling alright? You sound quite ill,” Nadia says, looking worried as she stands in the doorway regarding her. 

“I’m fine, just a sore throat,” Beatrice replies, holding back a wince as her throat grates. 

‘You don’t sound fine, I believe you should go home and rest. You’re in no position to give a presentation this morning,” Nadia’s tone of voice brooks no argument and Beatrice hangs her head a bit as she tries to think of a way to convince her. Beatrice doesn’t take days off, certainly not for a sore throat. “I shall have a servant get you a carriage.”

“I’m fine, really! Don’t go to the trouble,” She pleads, but Nadia simply shakes her head and points to the doorway.

“Go home, take some time to rest, Beatrice,” Nadia says kindly. Beatrice sighs and starts to gather her things, there’s no use, Nadia’s right. She can barely make an audible sound, there’s nothing to do but wait for her voice to come back. 

As Beatrice heads to the Palace gates she’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t think about her lesson with Amaryllis. She all but forgets about it until she spots a familiar maroon haired figure approaching from across the foyer. 

“Beatrice, you’re here early,” Amaryllis says, looking equal parts bemused and excited to see her. 

“I was just leaving,” Beatrice rasps, “ Lost my voice,” 

“Yes I should say you have,” Amaryllis frowns, putting a hand on Beatrice’s forehead as if to check for a fever. She stares at them wide-eyed as they deliberate and finally pull their hand away. “Does your throat hurt as well?” 

“Yes,” She says, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can sing today.” 

“No, I don’t think you can. You should go home and rest, you’ve been practicing too much,” They reply, they’re still stooped down a bit to meet her eyes and Beatrice finds it hard to focus with them this close to her.

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice manages to say, feeling terrible from the pain and because she’ll be missing out on a lesson.

Beatrice thinks back to their last lesson, the way Amaryllis had opened up to her and allowed her to listen to their music. She doesn’t want to miss another chance at that closeness, both emotional and physical. There had been times over the last few weeks where Beatrice could have sworn Amaryllis might kiss her. They’d stared directly at her lips, only a slight tilt of the head away from meeting her lips with their own. But it hadn't happened, and it never will, Beatrice reminds herself. Amaryllis is her teacher, and though they’ve begun to spend more time together outside of lessons she’s sure it’s out of friendly obligation and nothing more. 

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your poor vocal chords.” Amaryllis straightens up to their full height and takes a step back from her. They seem to be deep in thought for a moment before almost hesitantly adding, “Go home, I’ll bring you some tea to help with your throat.” 

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” Beatrice protests, her face already flushing at the thought of them being so concerned for her.

“Stop talking, you’ll make things worse,” Amaryllis says, “It’s the building on the corner by the hat shop, yes?” Beatrice is a little surprised that Amaryllis remembers where she lives, she’d only mentioned it once in passing a few weeks ago.

“Yes,” Beatrice starts, but at Amaryllis’ stern look she shuts her mouth and nods instead. 

“Now go rest,” They say, red lips pulling into their characteristic smile, “I’ll be by later.” 

When she gets home Beatrice kicks her boots off and changes into something comfortable. She chugs a glass of water but it’s too cold and burns the whole way down. It might just be her throat that hurts, but she finds herself quite tired. She’d refused the carriage ride home, deeming it unnecessary, and the walk back home had taken her longer than usual. She wants to take a nap, but if Amaryllis is coming by later she wants to make sure her house is tidy first.

After a quick speed clean, which she might’ve used some magic to do more quickly, she collapses into bed. What feels like five minutes later there's a knock on the door and she sits up with a start, hurriedly smoothing her hair down as she goes to answer the door. She holds her breath a little as she opens the door, seeing Amaryllis standing in her doorway is not a sight she’d ever expected to see. 

“Hello,” Amaryllis smiles as they take in Beatrice standing before them in her socks and a simple tunic, so different from her usual fancy clothing. She fidgets uncomfortably under their gaze, “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” They raise an eyebrow, and Beatrice rushes to open the door wider for them to enter. 

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” She says hoarsely, watching as Amaryllis looks around her apartment. It’s not large, just the living area and a separate bedroom and bathroom off of a hallway. She’s glad she’d tidied before Amaryllis arrived, they’re used to Palace accommodations, and her little home in Center City certainly isn’t that. 

“I took a carriage, it took no time at all,” Amaryllis replies, taking a small pouch of tea leaves out of their bag. “The coachman said you decided to walk, why would you do that when you were already feeling unwell?” 

The question takes Beatrice off guard and she watches as Amaryllis walks into her kitchen like they live there, filling her kettle with water and setting it to boil. “It was unnecessary,” she responds when they turn around to look at her, “I didn’t need anyone to go to the trouble on my behalf.”

“If someone offers to help you, let them help you,” Amaryllis says, their face gone serious as they work to prepare the tea. “And it’s no trouble to take care of someone who’s always taking care of others.” 

They look a bit taken aback at their own words and immediately turn their back to Beatrice as they pour the tea. Though she wonders at their reaction it gives Beatrice a chance to take a deep breath and rid herself of the blush on her face. When Amaryllis turns around they’re brandishing a teacup, Beatrice’s favorite though they couldn’t have known that. 

“Do you have any honey? It’ll help your throat even more,” They ask. Beatrice nods and goes to the cupboard next to them, reaching on her tiptoes to grab the jar of honey from the back. Amaryllis watches her with a smirk as she manages to reach it and hands the jar to them. 

“What tea is that?” Beatrice asks, taking in the slightly familiar aroma.

“It’s ginger tea, now sit,” They point to the couch in the middle of the room, “And drink.” 

Beatrice takes the cup from them, trying not to react to their fingers brushing hers, and takes a seat. The tea tastes better than she thought it would, and the honey makes it sweet enough for her to actually enjoy. Amaryllis sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches as she sips the tea. She holds back a sigh as the warm beverage soothes her throat.

“I think you need to cut down on how much you’re practicing. You also need to take more frequent vocal breaks to rest, and I’m leaving this tea with you. You should have some after you practice,” Amaryllis says. Beatrice nods and continues to drink her tea, not wanting to interrupt their instruction. Amaryllis moves a bit closer to her and Beatrice turns towards them, nearly losing her grip on the teacup when they reach out to twist their finger around one of the curls that hangs near her face. Though she’s grown more used to their casual touches over time, she still finds herself flustered by how delicately they brush the lock of hair behind her ear.

“You’re making a lot of progress, Beatrice, but you shouldn’t push yourself so hard that you get hurt,” Amaryllis explains, their eyes locked to hers, “You need to take better care of your instrument.” 

“I will,” Beatrice says in assurance. Her voice already sounds a bit better, and it didn’t hurt as much to speak. She smiles at the realization that the tea really had helped, and Amaryllis watches in amusement as Beatrice downs the rest of the cup like one would take a shot of alcohol. 

“I need to get back for a performance tonight, promise me you’ll stay home and rest? If I see you at the Palace next week and you’re still croaking I’ll have to come up with something stronger, and it won’t be sweetened with honey,” Amaryllis threatens, but the smile on their face takes away from the effect.

“I promise,” Beatrice replies, holding her pinky out to theirs to make a pinky promise. Amaryllis stares at her finger for a moment before laughing under their breath and linking their pinky with hers.

“Good,” They stand up to gather their belongings and head towards the door, “Thanks for letting me visit your lovely home, I do hope I can make a return visit someday.” 

“I hope so too,” Beatrice says, meeting their eyes for a moment before her eyes dart away to the bookcase next to them, something safer to stare at, “Thank you for the tea.” 

“My pleasure, anything to help my favorite student,” Amaryllis smiles, dipping into a dramatic bow.

“As far as I know, I’m your only student,” Beatrice laughs, glad that the action didn’t seem to hurt her throat.

“Just take the compliment, Beatrice,” They say, opening the door, “Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye,” She replies, but they’ve already shut the door behind them. 

Beatrice makes herself another cup of ginger tea and considers writing Amaryllis a thank you note, it’s the least she can do. She gets to work, pulling out her special personalized stationery and her favorite golden ink. It takes her nearly fifteen minutes just to write their name, she tries to get the curve of the A just right, the y looped perfectly around the other letters. The actual contents of the note is short. There are lots of things she’d like to say to Amaryllis, and maybe someday she’ll get up the courage to do so, but for today she just says “thank you”.

She’d thought that writing the note might help her clear her head a bit, but when she tries to go to sleep she can’t stop the thoughts of Amaryllis. She thinks about the way Amaryllis had called her ma chérie last week, and how much she wants them to call her that again. She wants to hear more of their words spoken and sung only for her. Before she can help herself, Beatrice thinks about their lips again, bright red and so close to her own. Would it have been a mistake for her to have leaned in? Would Amaryllis have pushed her away or kissed her back? 

She really needs to get over this infatuation. Even if Amaryllis had wanted to kiss her, it doesn’t mean they would want anything more. Just when she thinks Amaryllis is interested they take a step back, or they return to their calm and collected demeanor and the moment passes. Beatrice really doesn’t know what to make of their attention, their casual touches and lingering eye contact. She’s seen them flirt with others in the same way, it seems to be a facet of their personality to be familiar with people, and if that’s the case then what makes her any different? 

Beatrice isn’t used to being treated like this. She’s not used to being told that she’s talented and pretty and full of potential, and though she believes their words to be genuine, she wonders if their time spent together means as much to Amaryllis as it does to her. She hopes it does.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

“So, what’s going on today that has you so cheerful?” Amaryllis asks as they begin to tidy up the rehearsal room now that the lesson had concluded. They're more than content to linger, packing their bag with little haste.

“I'm usually cheerful,” Beatrice fights a grin, acting coy.

“Especially so today. It certainly reflected in your performance. Now that I think about it, the past few days you’ve seemed so excited.” Amaryllis had been thinking about it, giddy each time they’d run into her and the dazzling smile she had on display.

Beatrice avoided their gaze, eyes mischievous, and Amaryllis expected her to deflect again. “It’s my birthday today!”

“Oh! Happy birthday,” they smile, full of adoration, “are you doing anything to celebrate?”

“I’m staying here for dinner tonight. A gangly birdie let it slip that Nadia may have planned something special for me.”

“I suppose that means I’ll get to see you at dinner.” Beatrice glances up, surprised, and Amaryllis attempts to suppress a laugh. “I usually dine here, I live here after all. Though, I often take meals in my room, but it seems that tonight is a special occasion.”

“Oh, you don’t have to come to dinner just for me, I’m sure you’re busy-“

“I’d like to. That is, if you don’t mind having me there.”

“Amie, of course not!”

For a moment, all is silent, both surprised that she called Amaryllis by a nickname. Beatrice looks like she’s about to rush to apologize, but their smile beats her to it.

“Then I’ll be there." Once the nickname sunk in, their face lit up— despite their attempt to stay neutral— and told her there was no issue. Beatrice nods, her demure smile doing nothing to hide how pleased she really is.

The two say their farewells for now, leaving in different directions. Beatrice, they assume, is off to get ready for a dinner in her honor, and Amaryllis is off to find a fitting last-minute gift.

After an hour, Amaryllis was approaching the dining room. A little late, but dressed for dinner and with a carefully-crafted bouquet in hand. They might have gone overboard with their gift, but Beatrice didn’t need to know. The arrangement they'd selected looked simple, but the meanings each flower held were far from it.

First, they'd started with violets, paired with sprigs of laurel. Individually, violets represented modesty, and laurel was for success. Together, they were for expressing that you were proud of the recipient. And Amaryllis was so proud of Beatrice. Their first real meeting all those months ago she was a ball of nerves, when it came to singing and being around them. But now, she had made leaps and bounds with her singing, and felt comfortable enough to call them ‘Amie’.

Then, the cowslip caught their eye. It was for gracefulness, and they'd decided it was fitting. Beatrice was graceful, even when she tripped over herself or her words, there was a certain charm to it. Even when nervous she always made her best attempt, and the way she lit up when she was successful. To Amaryllis, she was the portrait of grace.

Of course, it spiraled into dangerous territory from there. The buttercups came next, 'you are radiant with charm', they revealed. And when paired with the cowslip, they were often given as tokens of new and blooming affection. Amaryllis couldn't say their affection was new, but it was blooming into something far past a fleeting crush.

Finally, Amaryllis added purple pansies into the mix. They told themself it was simply to balance out the two bunches of yellow flowers, but that was a lie. Pansies confessed ‘you occupy my thoughts’, and gods, did she. So often they thought of her; when composing, when performing, during the day, at night, in bed. It almost felt wrong, how often their mind strayed to her and in the ways that it did.

The blooms had been wrapped together in cream-colored paper and tied with a violet ribbon. Amaryllis hoped the delicate yellows and purples would be to her liking. They also hoped that gifting this bouquet full of secrets would be symbolic. That they'd be handing off their feelings like they were handing off the flowers.

The dining room doors opened, and their worry-free façade fell back into place.

“She’s been taking lessons from a great teacher,” catches Amaryllis’s ear as they enter. To the side is what looks to be the gift table, and they place the bouquet down. It was Portia, with all her enthusiasm that they'd heard. She was at the center of the table, alongside Nadia of course, with Beatrice seated on her other side.

“Ah, well-“

“Gossiping about me?” Amaryllis stopped behind their seats, interrupting and startling Beatrice in the process. Instinctively, they place a hand on her shoulder to steady her, surprised to feel bare skin. When Amaryllis glances down at her, they regret it immediately.

She’s dressed to the nines, cloak nowhere to be seen. All they see is cream lace and tulle that drapes off her shoulders, and the satin corset hugging her frame. They’re at a wonderful angle to witness exactly how flattering it is on her.

Before they could be considered staring, they look away. But as flushed as she is, they doubt Beatrice missed the way their eyes dragged over her body. Her smile is bright, and Amaryllis is a little dizzy at the idea that reaction was for them. They certainly could dream.

“Wait, you’ve been instructing her?” Asra questions from Beatrice’s other side.

“Why are you so surprised?” Amaryllis shrugs, nonchalant, strolling away to their seat. They were well aware this news was about to be the largest scandal in Vesuvian history. Their lessons weren’t a secret, but Amaryllis hadn’t gone out of their way to mention it, and it seemed Beatrice hadn't either.

“I recall bringing up the idea of you taking on students last year. And I recall you declining, claiming you weren’t ‘teacher material’.” Nadia comments as they pass.

Lucio can’t help but join in, complaints ready as Amaryllis takes their seat between him and Julian. “I’ve begged you for lessons, and you always told me no!”

“That’s because you’re tone deaf.”

“Wait, I’m tone deaf, but we sing together all the time?” Julian adds.

“You aren’t tone deaf, you have trouble matching pitch on your own. There’s a difference.”

They aren't close to Beatrice at all, on the complete opposite side of the table, but they can see her trying to listen in.

“So Amaryllis, what prompted your change of heart about teaching?” Nadia asks them.

“There’s been no change of heart, I’m still not interested,” Amaryllis sips their wine.

“Then why is Beatrice taking lessons from you?” Julian butts in from between them.

“She stumbled upon a rehearsal of mine weeks ago, and mentioned lessons. I thought I would offer,” another sip, “I could tell she was special.”

“Is that so?”

Amaryllis makes sure Beatrice is still eavesdropping, her eyes wide and curious. “Beatrice is a very promising student. If it were up to me, I’d have her on the stage by now.”

Nadia turns to her, and the countess begins to ask her about it. Of course, Amaryllis's ability to hear what she has to say is cut off by Lucio and Julian’s bickering.

Dinner as a whole passes with no more awe directed at them for their, admittedly, out of character actions. They were thankful to no longer be in the spotlight for the night, it wasn’t for them after all.

After dessert— Beatrice’s favorite cake, of course— Nadia suggests they all move to the veranda. Amaryllis stands, but takes their time joining everyone else, finishing off their wine. Somehow, they hadn’t noticed Beatrice still in the room until her hand is on their arm. It’s just the two of them now, and her touch is a welcome surprise. Beatrice’s smile is radiant as she looks up at them through long lashes. In her other hand is the bouquet.

“How did you know violets were my favorite?”

“I didn’t, actually,” she glances between the flowers and Amaryllis. “I’m relieved to know that I chose well.” 

“You did. Thank you, Amie. They’re beautiful.”

“They pale in comparison to you,” it’s cliché, and easily passed off as Amaryllis’s typical flirting. Even if now they mean it more than anything. “You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you,” she’s blushing, but her smile is proud.

“Did you know that violets mean ‘modesty’?”

“They do?” Her eyes light up, always eager to learn about anything. “Do the other flowers mean anything specific?”

“All of them do, and some of them mean something else when paired together. It’s why I picked them.” Beatrice’s brow raises, anticipating that Amaryllis will explain. “I think I’ll leave it for you to figure out on your own.”

“What!” Beatrice pouts, and her grip on their arm tightens. “But it’s my birthday.”

“And you love to learn, so it's the best gift of all.”

“That is a wonderful gift,” she laughs. “Then would you tell me what your favorite is?”

“I like Hemlock.”

“Isn’t that…”

“Highly poisonous? Yes, though it is safe when dried.” She stares for a moment, somewhere between confusion and amusement, then laughs again.

“How am I not surprised?”

“I also like roses. But don’t tell anyone, I wouldn’t want word to get out that I’m just a romantic, it’d ruin my reputation.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” her expression turns pensive, “are you really? A romantic, that is.”

Amaryllis shifts a little closer to Beatrice. The arm that isn’t graced by her touch reaches out, hand on her bare shoulder. They notice a heart-shaped birthmark that they hadn't had the opportunity to see until now. Fingers brush over it before ghosting down her arm, wondering what her reaction would be if it was their lips instead. As they trace her skin, Amaryllis feels her shiver, and it takes every ounce of restraint to not seek that out over and over. They take her hand then, pulling it to their lips to place a soft kiss to the back of it, leaving behind a red lip print.

“I certainly can be, when someone piques my interest enough,” their ruby gaze doesn’t leave her face. Beatrice stifles a gasp, and Amaryllis wonders what to do now, how they could just walk away from this—

And then, they’re interrupted.

“Birthday girl! You’re about to miss your own toast!” Portia leans in  to shout from the doorway. “and you have to lead the song, or else Ilya’s squawking is gonna give me a headache.”

Beatrice intertwines her fingers with Amaryllis's, and then leads them outside hand-in-hand. The walk from the dining room to the veranda is far too short.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

[snarkymonkeyprime]

Xerynn doesn’t care for Jac’s inability to understand his place in the world.

Also, this was a prompt of “jealousy” from @magic-ramen after she’d had a shitty day (sorry it took so long, babe!)  <3<3<3

Any other day, Xerynn likely would have ignored the news report.  Besides, it was information he’d already been well aware of.  He’d known the moment Lillian had died.  And how.  That her death was reported, however, was more of consequence.

Xerynn never did concern himself with being known. Given the fragile nature of mortals, they tended to make their own conclusions regarding why a defense attorney from Portland also appeared to be criminally connected and eerily similar to supposed paternal relations.  However, that did not mean he enjoyed the attention.  It was nothing to sway the minds of police but given the option, he would much rather not have to expend the energy to do so.

He scowled at the article on his laptop.  And when that attention came from tools better used in other situations, he grew doubly irritated.

He tapped a button under his desk.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Lusk,” he began, “do contact Mr. Sayer and inform him he’s required at my office.  Sooner rather than later,” he finished.

“Certainly, Mr. Warrgott.”

He sat back, tapping his index fingers against his lips. He would never have this kind of complication with Natalie.  Nor Kai, bizarre as that was to admit.  His brow furrowed.  For as much of a mouth as that man had on him, he held enough sense to know not to cross Xerynn in a way that created impact.  It was abundantly clear, however, that his latest acquisition had not yet come to that realization.

He lifted his chin, glancing toward the ornate doors of his office. Across Portland, he could sense Jac’s intention towards his office, proving that Natalie was once again prompt.  The emotions there were the same as he’d felt the first day he’d noted the assassin; arrogance, confidence, desire, violence.

Initially, he’d found it amusing that Jac still wore the veil and refused to see Xerynn’s godhood.  The idea that someone as steeped in blood and violence, who’s inclination rarely wavered from sadism, could refuse to believe in old, primal gods was charming in its way.

Now it was frustrating.

Less than half an hour later, Jac sauntered into his office, unbuttoning his peacoat as he moved.  “You rang?”

“Sit.”

Jac paused, one eyebrow lifted.  He smirked as he slipped out of his coat, turning to hang it on the coatrack near the door.  “Uh, oh; someone’s in trouble,” he teased.

Not rising to the comment, he turned his laptop, aiming the article at Jac.  “It appears that Ms. Rogers met with an accident last night.”

Jac didn’t look at the article, only kept his gaze with Xerynn’s, grinning all the while.  “Aw, what a shame.  She seemed awfully friendly with you the night before.  My condolences.”

The laptop shut with a thud.  “I do recall you seemed quite focused on her as well that night. Perhaps I should be extending the same,” he drawled.  He steepled his fingers.  “Shame indeed; she was quite useful.”

“Was she?”  Jac shrugged. “She was a pop culture blogger; she was probably at the gala because she’d shagged someone more important.”

Xerynn smiled then, the air around them growing still as his power curled along the windows and the shuttered door.  “That so?”  He pushed back, rising.  Jac’s eyes stayed on him but the smile had faded.  Xerynn smoothed his suit coat and slowly moved out from behind his desk. He stopped within arm’s length of Jac, hands folded neatly before him.  “Jac.”  His power shifted, surging through the room, lights flickering around them.  “Jac, Jac, Jac,” he chided.

The assassin’s brow furrowed but he stayed quiet.

Xerynn stepped close and lifted Jac’s chin.  “I’d suggest marking your territory elsewhere in the future.  Dare to piss on my property again and you’ll lack the ability to do so.”  He let go and lifted his brows, the lamp behind him popping, the expensive porcelain shattering and tumbling to the floor. “Have we an accord?”

Jac craned around Xerynn, frowning at the broken lamp. “Guess they don’t make them like they used to, hm?”

Oh, I see.  You believe you still retain control. Xerynn grinned then, lips drawing back, teeth bared.  Before him, Jac tensed as he shifted back.

“If I deign to employ another, you will accept that.”  His grin grew, reshaping his jaw as it widened.  “If, by chance, you decide your opinion matters more?”  He leaned down, teeth splitting from his jaw, razor-sharp and brilliant.  His voice boomed through the room, pictures rattling against the wall, glass trophies sending shards tumbling to the floor.

“I’d advise you to retain said opinions unless I require them.” He read confusion in Jac’s eyes as the man obviously struggled to reconcile with Xerynn’s horrific appearance.

“She . . . was useless,” he managed, voice rough.  

“Do recall that I required her there.”  The skin around his jaw split farther, bone elongating, the rage of war twisting his visage into that of a charred dragon.  Darkness crowded around them as he pulled Jac into his realm, drawing him into that same darkness he appeared to crave so much.  “You insult me with your petty actions,” he stated, words hissing out with strings of fire and smoke.

Again, he read the discomfiture in Jac’s mortal eyes.  The man wanted so badly to believe he retained all control.  That he alone directed his life and path.  That life and death were so neat and tidy in his blood-soaked world.

Xerynn laughed then, the sound a clash of stone and steel.  “You are more the fool, Jac Sayer,” he warned.  “Understand that I alone now own your soul.  That I decide when you will move.  When you will speak.”  He leaned close, those hazel eyes muddy with desperate turmoil.  “You are a tool, Mr. Sayer.  You will stay sheathed until I decide.”

With a snap, the light returned and they were once more standing in his office, pictures hanging neatly, trophies gleaming under bright lights.  

Jac blinked, frowning as he tried not to glance around.  But even so, Xerynn heard his rapid heart.  The swirl of thoughts as he tried to rationalize what he’d experienced.

Shame.  You would be so much more useful without the veil. A failing, certainly.  One that Xerynn hoped would correct itself sooner, rather than later.  He could force the tearing of the veil but unfortunately, it often left mortals more useless given it tended to overwhelm their fragile minds.  Jac’s was already poisoned enough of its own; no need to encourage further degradation.

He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat as he smoothed his shirt sleeves.  “So.  Done with my punishment?” he rasped.

Xerynn’s eyes narrowed. Still so haughty.  Had it been Kai, he would have left it there and ordered him out.  For all his insolence, Kai was by far the most accomplished Servitor he’d retained.  He allowed the man a long lead.  Jac, however, clearly needed more restraint.

“If I find that you have allowed your baser thoughts to interfere with my business again, our working relationship will be severed.”  

Jac laughed then.  “Oh, please.  You’d never find anyone half as good as me.”  He preened and winked at Xerynn.  “I’m one-of-a-kind.”

Mortals and their egos.  So trying. Xerynn didn’t rise to the comment. He watched as Jac removed a gun from a well-used under-arm holster, checking the clip and letting it hang loose from his hand.  He tilted his head at the action.  “Is that meant to frighten me?”

Jac’s amusement tempered, his mouth struggling to hold his cocky grin.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he purred, lifting the gun slightly.

Xerynn’s hand snapped out, grabbing Jac’s wrist and yanking the man to his feet, the gun falling with a thud to the floor in the process.  “You think yourself untouchable?” he mused.

The assassin swallowed but continued his attempt of controlling the situation.  “You wouldn’t have employed me otherwise,” he pointed out.

Xerynn tutted sharply.  “You, my boy, are not the marvel you consider yourself.” He began to walk, pushing Jac back, the man struggling to keep his feet as Xerynn clasped his wrist.  The bones beneath his fingers creaked and he knew, with a single additional squeeze, he could shatter that fragile framework.  He could rid himself of Jac in a moment, reduce him to nothing but skin and organs.

But the man was useful.  He was violent and effective.  And there was no doubt the man was pleasurable to use.  Recalling that, he shifted his grip to Jac’s neck as he slammed him into the door to his office.  The sudden boom would likely require an apology gift for Ms. Lusk.  A small matter.

He leaned in, whispering low, Jac’s pulse rapid and hot under his fingers.  “You are unique, Mr. Sayer,” he began.  “But there will always be another:  stronger, faster, far more obedient.”  He tightened his fingers, the air bubbling under his grip.  “Do not encourage me to locate them.”

Xerynn straightened, careful to retain his grip on Jac’s throat.  He recognized swirls of anger and arousal in the deep hazel.  He smirked then, amused again that even near death, the man’s mind remained on its singular track.

Even as he struggled to remain conscious, Jac lifted his chin, smug as ever.  “If you tried to get rid of me,” he forced out, “I’d only kill the idiot you wasted time on.”

It was almost amusing, in truth.  That Jac thought himself so highly prized.  Xerynn certainly hadn’t dissuaded him from the idea in the beginning; after all, he needed a confident assassin in his employ.  To do otherwise would be asking to be questioned by authorities at every turn.  But now it grew tiresome.  Mortals and their afflictions had long been a bore for Xerynn.  And he certainly didn’t need to deal with the jealous moods of a killer.

Xerynn didn’t smile. “And who is to say you would even be alive to attempt it?”

For the first time, he saw the assassin’s confidence slip.  A shadow of uncertainty across his face.  Enough to know the words hit home.

“Tell me, Jac,” Xerynn hissed, feeding his power outward.  “What is it that you see?”  He tightened his fingers around Jac’s throat, knowing he could crush the man in a breath if he wished.  It would be simpler, to be fair.  Jac was rapidly proving to be more trouble than he was worth.  Yet, it was rare for Xerynn to find such an exquisite weapon amongst the mortals.  He loathed washing his hands of such a find so quickly.

Jac’s swallow moved rigidly past his fingers.  “A reliable client.”  The words were barely there but Xerynn heard them all the same.  

“Client.”  Xerynn grinned.  He caught a thread of doubt in Jac’s eyes, his power once more manifesting in that moment.  His fingers brightened, gleaming like steel.  Threads of crimson began to bead along Jac’s neck, dripping along paling skin.

“Oh, my dear boy,” he breathed, “I am so much more.”  Skin split further under his bladed fingers, runnels of fluid warm and sticky against them. “I am what you crave.  Without me, you are nothing.”  He leaned in, licking Jac’s ear, catching the strain of his heart and air.  “Were I to be undone, your very existence would lack purpose.”  He pitched his voice lower.  “Do not believe you know what I require.  You will never kill without my direction.  Do so again, and yours will be the last blood you feel through your fingers.”

The beat of the heart under his fingers slowed, growing sluggish.  The blood was thicker now, leaving the man’s crisp, white shirt sodden and dark.  He let go then, snapping his fingers.

Jac’s neck was whole again, his shirt unmarred.  The assassin grabbed for his throat, eyes wide.  He stared at Xerynn, once more struggling to understand.

Xerynn raised an eyebrow. “Have we an accord?” he asked again, voice low and cold.

The man swallowed and straightened, holding Xerynn’s gaze.  “Understood,” he remarked, the arrogance long gone from his voice.  He tugged on the collar of his shirt, a fine tremor on his fingers.  “Anything more, Mr. Warrgott?”

Xerynn smirked then. He reached out and stroked Jac’s cheek, cupping his chin.  “I have no targets for you as of now.”  He swiped the warm, lower lip with his thumb.  “Be at my home in one hour; I have a better use for you tonight.”

The cocky light returned and Jac opened his mouth, sucking Xerynn’s thumb in.  “Of course, Mr. Warrgott,” he purred.  “I’m at your disposal.”

“You would do well to remember that, Mr. Sayer.”

[darkhymns-fic]

A New World of All of Us

There's a lone inn that stands in the middle of nowhere, once a place for those on pilgrimage to rest during a leg of their journey. But few speak the name of the Goddess anymore...

Two travelers come by, unfamiliar, but with a dog. But a customer was a customer.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Noishe, Original Characters Rating: PG Chapters: 1 of 3 Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week, Day 6: Let's go explore the new world together! I suddenly wanted to write a story with OCs, but with Lloyd and Colette being the main focus still! So, this is what came of it, and it's not complete yet! But there is a first chapter of hopefully just three altogether. If you read and enjoy, please let me know! And thank you everyone for Colloyd Week this year!

--

For the inn that was placed on the crossroads leading between Iselia and Triet, many still called it a House of Salvation whenever they passed by the structure.

It wasn’t such a surprise as to why they still did- for ever since it was claimed by the new owners, they hadn’t done much changes to its original architecture. It still maintained its two stories, shaped like a pillar, with a great open area inside on the first floor. Where once the symbols of Martel would be decorated along the walls with banners and silk, where the humble statue of Spiritua would be placed on the small prayer dais in the front, with mats on the floor to cushion a worshipper’s knees, it was now just a general dining area for visitors, with an innkeeper’s counter placed to the side. The prayer alcove had been converted to a delicacy stand, selling the innkeeper’s homemade treats they had baked for the day.

Upstairs were still the rooms for the weary to rest, once mainly meant for those on a pilgrimage. But many didn’t really go on pilgrimages anymore – none but the very devout few, who still believed in the Goddess that now watched over a newly remade world.

Mara didn’t really think much about that really. Seeing the time as the sun lowered in the sky, she stepped out of the barely renovated inn, a broom in hand, and proceeded to sweep up the dirt on their front steps. But the broom was a little too tall for her, and she struggled to keep it elevated just right as she went about her task. She also hadn’t done the laundry recently, so her dress was a mixture of dust and polka-dots, and her boots were scuffed from the mud from a few days back when she had to handle a few maintenance tasks in the rain.

Then again, business had been slow these days, and it wasn’t like there were patrons around to keep up appearances for…

And her brother hadn’t been back for many hours. He had left this morning for the nearest town, and already it was practically sunset, the horizon letting her know with its orange glow. “I should have gone with him,” she muttered to herself, pushing out the broom in an odd angle that nearly made her lose her balance. She squeaked, held onto a nearby fence railing, feeling the slow burn of embarrassment flood her face. “And he needs to get me a new broom too…”

She might only have been half as embarrassed as she was, if not for hearing the voice that was, apparently, not too far off. “Uh, excuse me? Kid?”

Mara had only been lucky enough to cut off her own terrified shriek, clutching at her broom like a weapon as she turned. In front of her, the man that had called out to her held up both hands – and they looked to be very red hands? “Whoa, sorry! I… I was just checking if you were open!”

Ah. Damn. She had done it again. She had nearly scared away another customer.

“Hold on! I mean… welcome to the All Hands Spiritua Inn! Where we accept hands of all kinds from all walks of life!” She had said that way…way too loud. Mara did all she could to not wince from all that blunder that came out of her mouth. “Have you seen our pamphlets in town?”

“Huh? Uh, no not really…” Even though this guy was clearly unsure about the whole situation… he wasn’t exactly backing away! Mara tried to take that as a good sign. “Just happen to know this place from a few years back… This is an inn now, right?” He pointed at the sign that was hanging off the front, the hinge off the left just a tad bit lopsided. “Is it alright if we stayed?”

Mara opened her mouth to shout a resounding YES to his question. Then she looked at him for just a bit longer, trying to determine his age, coming up with maybe in his mid-twenties or so… The red hands she had been seeing was from the gloves he wore (instead of being really badly sunburned like she’d been thinking), which matched with the red of his outfit, at least from what she could tell. He wore a brown traveling cloak that was clasped at the collar, nearly reaching his feet. From his motions, she could hear the familiar clinking of metal – weapons, she gathered. A mercenary? Or was he a bandit?

But then, she figured he’d try to be a little more subtle with his weapons if he was coming here to steal her gald under the pretenses of being a customer… His hair was also a bit unkempt, waves of russet hair that under the setting sun, seemed to turn into a darker red if she squinted at it just so. There was only just the hint of stubble on his chin, his missed days of shaving catching up to him.

Then she thought about what he said. “Pardon, who’s we?” She didn’t see anyone with him…

“Oh, me and my friend!” He smiled at her the moment he mentioned said friend, as if a light had just been turned on in the vicinity. “And our dog. Do you allow dogs here?”

“Of course!” she said immediately. “We get strays around here all the time anyway.” Too much, sometimes. Also, her brother wasn’t exactly fond of such strays for a certain reason, if she could just remember why…

“Great!” With that, the man in red turned, put both hands around his mouth and yelled, “Heeey!! It’s all good!!”

Huh. Maybe this guy was a bit stranger than she thought. Well, she had already invited him to stay so there was nothing she could do. I probably should have asked if he had money first….

When she started wondering if he was calling in backup of other bandits to rob her blind, she saw the figure he was calling for. Someone who was just in the distance, half-hidden in shadows by the setting sun. From where she stood, it looked like a horse-rider, and as said horse seemed to gallop forward, its rider waved back happily.

The man waved back so strongly, enough to nearly knock off the cloak from his shoulder. Mara raised an eyebrow. Why did he act like he hadn’t seen this person in forever?

As the figure got closer, she barely could see much else at all. They were dressed in the same brown cloak as the man but it covered them from head to toe, complete with a hood that was pulled over their head. All Mara could make out were the white gloves they wore, which held lightly onto the mane of the horse they rode.

“Hello, I hope we’re not intruding,” they finally said. The voice was soft, slightly higher-pitched – and by then, Mara saw the stray locks of blonde hair as they fell out of the hood. She had been so entranced by the figure that she hadn’t noticed the horse they rode until it was basically in front of her.

It then started to…whine?

Wait, that wasn’t a horse! Mara blinked, looking at the creature with its snout, its overly large ears that fanned out from the sides of its face, its fur with varying shades of green. It was a… what was it?

“Noishe here doesn’t bite,” the man said with a grin, ruffling the creature’s fur, unmindful to the giant ears that looked as if they would whack him across the face at any moment. “He’s a real good dog.”

Mara blinked. “Excuse me. Dog?” She glanced at the creature, noting those familiar features, yet… “That’s a dog.”

“Yep! Would you like to pet him?” spoke the figure – the woman, she finally figured – who still sat atop the dog. Who rides a dog?!

“I’m… I’m fine.” Mara still held her broom, half defensively, even though one end of it was dangerously close to unbalancing herself again. “Well, lucky for your…dog… we have the stables already cleaned out, so you can settle it there.”

“Thanks.” The man grinned, hands on his knees as he peered down at her from his height. She mentally groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Hey, so, are your parents around?”

Yes, of course this always happens, doesn’t it?

“And why would you want to know that?” she countered back.

This predictably threw the guy for a loop, making him blink and stare dumbfounded for a solid five seconds. “Well, it’s kinda scary for kids to be by themselves, you know? And we wanted to ask the owners of this place a few things.”

“You’re looking at her.” Okay, co-owner, but it was still the truth.

He blinked again. “Huh?”

“I’m not a kid.” Mara frowned, standing up tall. “I’m eighteen years old!”

The guy scratched the back of his head, smiling nervously. “I mean… you kinda still are…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Owner,” said the lady from behind him. She had dismounted from her dog (?) and finally pulled down her hood. Mara held her breath when she saw how the woman had a cascade of golden hair that was arranged in a braid, turned darker by the setting sun, and nearly reaching her waist.

Something about her also seemed… different to Mara, the way she smiled, or the curve of it, at least. She felt a sense of elegance from her, and wondered if maybe she was one of those priests from years back. But the Church of Martel’s influence had waned over the years, and most of its clergy had long abandoned the cloth with the appearance of Tethe’alla.

“My name is Colette,” said the woman, subtly breaking the silence. “Is it okay to ask for your name?”

Mara considered, then nodded. It was nice for some people to have manners here. “I’m Mara. I run this inn with my brother, whose getting us food for tonight’s dinner. I can promise you two a warm meal in a bit if you stay.” Then she pointedly looked at the man. “And be sure to treat me with respect like any adult!”

She was pleased to see the man looked thoroughly embarrassed, still scratching away at that itch on his scalp. “Ehe… Sorry.” A gentle nudge from the woman named Colette startled him for a moment, before his worried face was replaced with a big grin. “Oh yeah, and my name’s Lloyd! Thanks for having us.”

Remember to be nice to people. She could hear her brother’s words in her head and tried her best to cut off any tones of snark in her voice. “Not any trouble. We’re happy you’ve chosen us at the All Hands Spiritua Inn! Now come right this way!” She winced again, seeing the somewhat stunned look on the others faces. She always went overboard like this, or just be grumpy to people otherwise…

After getting the dog to lay somewhat comfortably in the hay (and the woman insisting on giving the giant weird-looking dog a few belly scratches on the tummy), she finally led them inside through the double doors, warning to watch their step on the stoop of the entrance. It was always higher than expected, and she’d had to mentally train herself to hop over it every time or risk a little stumble.

The guy named Lloyd followed her example, deftly hopping over the stoop. The woman named Colette deftly did not.

Mara felt as if she watched Colette’s fall in slow-motion, hearing her startled yell, seeing the way she flailed her arms, which made the cloak around her flutter like a pair of burlap wings – revealing a stark-white outfit that she was wearing underneath – and then fall flat on her face against the floorboards.

Any impression of elegance Mara felt from her instantly went flying out the window.

Lloyd rushed to her side, grasping Colette by her arm. “Colette! You alright?”

“Ehe…” Colette raised her head to Lloyd, already a bruise forming on her forehead. Mara had to wince at that. Ouch. “Sorry. Guess I tripped again.”

“That looked like it really hurt,” he commented, pulling her up gently, their boots making the floor creak.

“Kind of, yeah…”

“Uh, I can get you some ice and a salve for that bruise, miss,” Mara helpfully offered, realizing soon that maybe she should. And since it was their inn that this had happened, she didn’t want any weird legal matters happening.

“That’s okay, I’ll just sleep it off,” Colette said, smiling gently again – just now with a little bump on her forehead. It kinda ruined the effect…

“Yeah, and we got plenty of apple gels to help!” Lloyd looked strangely proud about that, but once he turned back to Colette, his expression went back to concern. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. Oh, wait-” Now back to Mara with questioning eyes. “Uh, is it still just one room up there?”

He said that so specifically that Mara was caught off guard from it. It was true that this place had only one room upstairs, fitted with multiple beds to house people in need of rest. They had kept meaning to put some walls in, or at least dividers, but they never really had time for it. “Yes! It’s just at the top of the stairs. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

“Thanks.” The guy gave her a thumbs up (How weird) and then led Colette up the stairs, their cloaks the last thing Mara saw as they ascended. She thought she also saw Colette’s face continually looking towards downstairs, especially to the dining area specifically.

Once they were out of sight, and she heard the door click softly, she remembered something very important.

Crap, she thought, tightening her hands on the broom she was still holding for some reason. I forgot to ask them to pay…

--

“Is it really not okay to look around there?”

“Maybe not yet… Don’t want to weird that kid out - and he’s not here anyway. Maybe we can try at dinner. Also… you really should rest that bump of yours.” A small laugh. “Sorry I didn’t catch you.”

“It’s okay. My clumsiness is supposed to be lucky, remember? Maybe this means we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

“Heh, you know, you’re right!” A creaking of the bed as someone on it, followed by the sound of shuffling, like someone rummaging through a pack. “Got the apple gels here. You should have some.”

“Okay. Can you feed them to me?” Followed by a light giggle.

A sigh, but there was laughter in it, warm and sweet. “You dork.”

--

When Tavi finally neared the inn, it was with labored breathing, his legs rushing fast across the roads. On his back, he lugged a heavy satchel filled with day-old bread, hastily preserved meat and cheese, along with a few spare gels and any other foodstuff that he could get at a bargain. He tried to keep it steady with his left hand, grasping at one of the straps on his shoulder, making sure it didn’t tilt and carry him down with it.

In his right hand, he held onto the hilt of his sheathed sword. His Exsphere glinted from the shine of the twin moons overhead, seemed to burn from where it was set, just beneath his knuckles.

The attacks on the roadsides had been more frequent lately.

Tavi was at least fast when he needed to be, hoping he had lost his pursuers along the way. A quick shift into a thicket of trees, using what little magic he knew to sweep away his footprints, and his sharp ears could finally just hear the soft chirping of crickets at his feet, the rustle of soft wings as they flapped above him.

As long as they didn’t know where he was headed… they’d be fine. They would have to be.

The inn was a welcome sight to him, looking strangely so pastoral in the nighttime. The paint on its right side was peeling off, and the lower awning that stretched just beneath the second floor was eaten away by mildew, but all in all… it wasn’t half-bad of a place.

He only slowed down his run to a light jog, sword slightly rattling against his leg as he did so, when he saw something using the stables they had. But it was covered in shadow, possibly sleeping inside. There was fresh hay and the trough was filled with water. Was Mara taking in stray cats again? Much of the felines liked to roam the woods near their inn, sometimes curling up on the roof, mewling out into the night. Though now, it was rather quiet…

Shaking his head, he then quickly sprinted to the inn once he saw how close he was. He pushed open the double doors, deftly hopping over the little out-of-line step with ease as he did so.

He was then met with a broom to the face.

“By the Goddess, Tavi!” Mara shouted, hopping on one foot as she jerked back the broom before she did any more damage. “You can at least knock to let me know you’re here!”

“Can you not tell it’s me by now?” he argued, spitting out a few broom bristles from his mouth. “You’re so jumpy.”

“I think I have every right to be?” spoke his sister. “You never consider how I feel.”

Though older than him by two years, she was much shorter than him, just coming up to the middle of his chest. She had a head of green hair cut just at the chin, yet still covering up her ears. In her polka-dotted apron and big boots that looked like they should belong to a blacksmith instead of a small innkeeper, she was always quite a strange sight to see.

He shook his head at her with a laugh. “At least help me with the groceries, I’m about to break my back in half from all this.” He played up the struggle as he slowly removed the satchel, bemoaning all the while. “Treat your elders right!”

“I’m older than you! Enough with that joke!”

Tavi grinned, but Mara had laid her broom against the counter to reach up for the foodstuff and promptly walked away to the kitchen. “We we have customers now. I’ll have to make them dinner too.”

As Tavi tried to tie back his long red hair, he paused in mid-action, then rounded on Mara. “What? Right now?” He groaned. “I didn’t buy enough to feed more than us! How many are there?!”

“Then I guess you’ll have to tighten your belt!” Mara wagged a finger at him. “Besides, it’s just two of them. They seem pretty harmless, and we need the money! They’ve been up in their room for the past hour, so don’t go waltzing upstairs right now.”

Then she pointed that wagging finger at his hand. “And you’ll need to hide that. Or are you forgetting to do that while in town?”

Tavi instinctively place his other hand over the Exsphere, feeling a strange sense of self-consciousness. “I know. I just… got it torn off by a tree branch earlier while I walked.” He wasn’t lying when he said that either.

Maybe Mara suspected, maybe she worried… But instead she walked back into the kitchen, hefting the satchel more easily than her height would seem to say. “Oh, and they have a dog too. A really big one at that, just so you know.”

Tavi choked on his own spit, glaring at Mara once more. “Mara, did you just forget that I’m allergic to dogs?”

At the door to the kitchen, Mara stopped. She turned back to him slowly. “I did actually.”

“Please, Mara…”

“Just don’t go near it! It’s outside now anyway, and they’ll be gone by morning I’m sure.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath. At the very least, there was no dog fur near him. “Fine. I’ll be by for dinner,” he said, then headed for one of his own rooms that was to the right of the main alcove of the building – which was more of a storage room that he had converted into his very own.

He figured he’d have to look nice for his guests, and picked up an old mirror that needed a good cleaning, trying to fix up the messy locks of red hair that had been tousled everywhere during his run.

With how tall he was, his lanky frame, and his own bright hair compared to Mara’s, no one would have ever taken them both to be brother and sister. Not unless one happened to catch the subtle points of their ears.

He made sure, as he combed his hair, to cover that part of himself. Better to be safe than stabbed, he thought wryly.

--

Noishe, in his pen, scrabbled at the hay to make himself comfortable. Some of the water from the trough had spilled over as he lapped it earlier, so he made sure to gather the drier parts of the hay to rest on comfortably.

It had been a long couple of weeks of travel, and he was looking forward to rest. But even Noishe knew he might not get that tonight…

From his position, he poked out his head from the stable, hearing the door shut suddenly. He raised his head up to the windows, seeing the light flicker out quickly inside. Only by the moon could he see the shape of familiar faces, familiar hands.

He remembered Lloyd’s hurried look from earlier, Colette’s soft words of reassurance. It had been tough recently, but always they had each other. In the light of the morning, he’d never seen smiles as bright as theirs.

They deserved a good night’s rest, too.

Still, Noishe kept his ears up as he settled on the hay, remembering the hurried footsteps from the stranger. Maybe, at the very least, the early evening could have some calmness before the storm.

[bundleofyarrow]

Chapter 8 - Motostoke is here!

it took me a while but finally chapter 8 is finished! so much happens, and hopefully there’s enough surprise in there for you all <3 you finally arrive in Motostoke and there’s barely enough time to make it to the opening ceremony! here is the link to read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087343/chapters/71401200 but you can also read it below the cut! would absolutely love any and all feedback <3

Motostoke

The entrance to Motostoke was a grand, brick-lined staircase, like a bridge into a fortress. It’s intimidating. Coming closer to the steps, you realize how this feels like a gate to the rest of Galar, and you’ve been contained to a little tiny pocket this entire time. Your thumbs graze the straps of your bag hanging from your shoulders as you contemplate this. Things are going to get more serious from now on, aren’t they?

A chill runs up your arms, the cool morning air brushing past you. The sun hasn’t yet peeked over the cliffs of the Wild Area, casting sleepy shadows across the field.

“We’ve made it!”

Milo clearly is used to being awake right at dawn, and has gently ushered you from your sleeping bag while it was still dark and along the walls until you reached the stairs of Motostoke. Most of your Pokemon were too sleepy to do the walk, only Wooloo, Milo’s Pokemon, and the wild Pancham followed along with you. Wooloo refused to not walk pressed up against your legs, and not being particularly agile this early in the morning, tripped you at a pretty consistent rate. Instead of saying something to the Wooloo, Milo instead opted for you to hang onto his arm.

But here you are, literally steps away from civilization. You take out your phone to text Leon that you arrived, and he quickly replies that he’s getting Charizard to come retrieve you.

Your mind was preoccupied wishing for a warm shower when you hear some shuffling behind you. Turning, you see Pancham kicking her feet a bit. Wooloo turns with you, and decides to sleepily trot over to her. You crouch down in front of her, not feeling particularly coherent, but knowing you should say something.

“It was so sweet of you to join us for some camping. Did you enjoy yourself?” You offer you hand, and she brushes her check against it, nodding. “I can tell you made friends with my Pokemon, right Wooloo?”

Wooloo nuzzles against Pancham, making her eyes glisten. From your periphery, you notice Milo intently watching your exchange, keeping quiet. Reaching to one of your bag pockets, you fish out a Pokeball, and show it to her.

“I won’t force you to come with me, but if you want, you join .” Your eyes still squint in tiredness, but you’re able to muster a genuine smile for Pancham.

The Pokemon takes the device into her paws, staring at it for a bit. She stares across the lake, probably back to where you found her. Wooloo gives an encouraging baaah, nudging Pancham. You gesture to the knob. “Just press that button, but only if you want.”

With a few more moments of contemplation, a bright flash of light envelops Pancham and she enters the Pokeball. There aren’t many more movements, and it clicks into place. You’re quick to let her back out, giving her a hug. “Welcome to the team!”

You stand as Wooloo takes over hugging duties, and Pancham looks happy. You look over to Milo, who has a more serious look on his face than you were expecting. His brow is scrunched and it looks like he is really considering something.

“Everything okay, Milo?”

He jumps a bit, clearly lost in thought. Milo blinks a few times and presses his lips together, like he’s steeling himself for something. You didn’t notice it before, but he was clasping an envelope in his hand. First, he whispers your name, then quickly shakes his head and steps closer to you.

“I know this is sudden but-” You notice he’s turning red. “I have to hurry ‘n meet Nessa for somethin’. I hate rushin’ off like this, but, I could also use a favor.” He offers the envelope, which you assume inside is a letter, to you. “You’re goin’ to the openin’ ceremony, right? If you’re gettin’ there early, can you give this to the person at the front desk?”

You take the letter from him, flipping it over to notice green stamp in the shape of a leaf. “Sure, of course! It’s the least I can do for all the help you’ve given me. I’ll make sure to arrive early.” You pocket it safely. “I guess this is goodbye?”

He gives you a quick nod. “For now, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon!” Milo begins to move backwards towards the stairs, waving. He really seems to want to run off, turning and scaling the steps towards the city, his Pokemon floating around him and making sounds as if they were chiding him. It was much like how it happened over at Route 1, breezing into and out of your life. You wish you were able to get his number, or any other sort of contact. You make a mental note to visit Turffield, once you learn where it is.

Returning your Pokemon to their Pokeballs, you begin to climb the steps. Ambient noise of both the river and the city ease into your senses as you progress upwards. You hear what you come to see are large rotating gears and streams of steam leaking into the sky above. A feeling of excitement rises from your chest as you finally make it to the top, taking in the view of a bustling city. It’s such a contrast to the quiet of Postwick and Wedgehurst and the utter remoteness of the Wild Area. People mill about on the bridge crossing the river and in the distance more dense crowds hustle to their destinations.

The sound of your name breaks your reverie, and in the middle distance you see someone sprinting towards you. You barely have the time to react before Leon nearly crashes into you, pulling you into a big bear hug. Shocked, you gently place your hands on his back. Behind him you see onlookers starting and Charizard making his way over.

“You’re here! Thank Arceus you’re actually alright.”

Smiling, you close your eyes and give him a proper friendly squeeze. “I promised, didn’t I?” Your face was pressed into his shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating from presumably his run over.

“I know but… I just had to see you myself to believe it.” Leon pulls away, and begins to realize the closeness of your bodies before letting go quickly. “Sorry- didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Leon.” You smile softly as you both tear up.

A huff comes from behind him, and Leon makes room for Charizard to say hello. You pet him, but you can’t help but notice people are gawking a bit.

“Shall we get out of here?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Please, I need to shower so badly!”

“I wasn’t going to say that out loud, but-” Leon’s cut short by you poking him in the side in retaliation. When he reacts strongly, you do it a few more times. “Stop! That’s my type weakness!” Who would have known the Champion of Galar was ticklish?

Rolling your eyes and petting Charizard one more time, the three of you crossed the bridge into Motostoke proper. However it became clear navigating through the city wouldn’t be as straight forward as you thought. Leon was attracting a constant influx of fans, probably because more trainers and sports fans are in the city than usual because of the ceremony. You could tell that it pained him turn down autographs and selfies, he would only stop and do a few at a time before apologizing.

“Sorry everyone, I have to get her back to the hotel.” This drew more curiosity your way. You weren’t sure how you felt about the attention. “But after the opening ceremony, there will be plenty of Champion Time!” He strikes that dramatic pose of his and the crowds cheers. Leon nods at Charizard. “Lead the way, mate!”

Charizard takes off and Leon runs after him, leaving you to scramble keeping up. Every once in a while Leon would look back over his shoulder at you, as if checking that you were actually there still with him.

Motostoke was characterized by its red bricks and industrial metal, giving you the feeling that even though this was a city, it was full of working class folk and had more of a big town vibe. You noticed people in what looks like mining overalls, and plenty of off-duty watt traders. There were more second-hand stores and plant nurseries than anything fancy. It was an interesting contrast with the trendy stores on the main thoroughfare in the center of the city. But there was still plenty of motion, much more than you usually see in Alolan cities. The train cruised through the city at timed intervals, and large flying Pokemon you’ve never seen before pick up and drop off passengers in compact cars. You tried to remember some stores for visiting later before you got on the moving platform that brought you to the second level of the city.

“Woah, this is so cool!”

Leon couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction. He’s been focused on making his way through the crowd after Charizard, waving at people who call out his name, signing a shirt or two along the way, but trying not to get too distracted.

“I used to ride this all the time as kid whenever my family visited. Mum would yell at me for pressing the button too many times, said it made her motion sick.”

Charizard shook his head, leading the two of you off the platform. You see crowds lining up to enter a large building, with intermittent cheering and Pokemon cries. In particular, there was a loud group of fans in black and pink yelling the loudest for a particular challenger they had banners for. Galar… really takes this gym challenge seriously, doesn’t it? There was even a figure dancing around in what you assumed to be a Pokeball costume, handing out Pokeballs to everyone and encouraging children to enter the challenge when they were older.

“That’s Motostoke Stadium, where the opening ceremony is. I’ll be able to get us through when we come back.” Leon scans the situation before Charizard huffs again for him to follow. He could tell Leon was prone to getting sucked into crowds of adoring fans if left to his own devices for too long.

The Budew Drop Inn wasn’t too far away, a straight shot from the stadium. You notice trainers leaving it heading towards where you just came from.

“The League put us all up here, so if they are running late, we might run into Hop and Gloria! Unlikely though, Hop was probably bouncing all night.” He chuckles to himself as you both enter.

Indeed, moving through the lobby you don’t spot any familiar faces though, of course, the young trainers are reacting to Leon. You also feel like they are reacting to you, not knowing who you are or why you’re with Leon. Their eyes begin to feel like weights pressed on your body, and you couldn’t be happier when the elevator doors closed and it was just you, Leon, and Charizard. There’s something comforting about the low hum of the machinery lifting you upwards.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

You turn to Leon, surprised. It seems like you’ve had enough time to process your encounter with danger in the Dappled Grove, but it must still fresh for him. He’s leaning back with arms crossed over his chest, looking over to you… wistfully?

“Sorry Leon. I just… wasn’t thinking right.”

Charizard seems to busy himself looking at the elevator controls as the two of you talked in hushed tones.

“I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you.” You lock eyes with his golden gaze. “Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

His expression softens, maybe even looks a bit sad.

“Of course I do. I was acting all weird around you, because… because…” Charizard casts Leon a look, and he gulps, looking incredibly flustered.

There’s a chime, and the elevator doors open. Trainers file in, recognizing the famous duo. Trying to talk with Leon prompts him to grab your sleeve and lead you onto the floor instead of finishing what he was going to say. You hear Charizard exhale a disapproving grunt.

Soon you were in the room you saw through the phone, seeing a scattering of Sonia’s and Leon’s things all over. Both probably are a bit of a mess. Leon flops back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Okay, I’ll take a quick shower and change into something fresh.” You set your bag down in a corner, grabbed what you needed from it, and slipped into the bathroom. Everything felt both strange and familiar, not having things like running water and electricity for the past few days almost made you feel like you regressed in some way. But the moment you stepped into the heated spray, you felt all the discomfort in your body melt away. The film of sweat and dirt on your skin finally washed off with a good scrub, and the steam smelled of your body wash, honey with a range of floral notes.

Reaching out of the shower to grab something for you hair, you catch conversation through the thin wall. It sounds like Leon is talking his Charizard.

“Don’t give me that look.”

You hear Charizard give an exasperated sigh.

“I’m just waiting for the right moment!”

What is Leon talking about? You can hear him groan.

“Arceus- Raihan’s right, I have zero game.”

You begin to feel a bit guilty eavesdropping, so you return to your shower. You guess he might be talking about Sonia, and imagine there’s a lot to catch up with once you all get some time to yourselves.

Eventually you get through the motions of your shower and exit it, feeling better. You’ll never take a functioning bathroom for granted ever again. Quickly slipping into clean clothes and leaving the bathroom, you look into the mirror and attempt to, in vain, tidy up your hair. You hear Leon rising from the nearby bed and leaning on the threshold to the vanity area. He sounds like he’s going to say something, but hesitates. You can see him in the reflection of the mirror, and he’s tapping the sides of his face with his hands for some reason.

“Is something wrong Leon?” You’re applying a quick amount of lotion before hurrying to slip on shoes that aren’t caked in mud and grass.

“O-oh nothing! Just wanted to be ready to leave soon.” He coughs a bit, strangely at the same time Charizard makes some noises.

“Okay okay, I’m almost done.” Reaching for your phone in your bag, you remember your promise to Milo and grab the letter to slip it into your back pocket. “Alright, I’m all set to go!”

“Let’s go!” Leon is quick to throw open the door and lead everyone out of the room.

Soon you all exit the hotel and Charizard leads you down the path to the stadium. Crowds clogged the streets and blocked the path forward. You easily got jostled by hyped up sports fans, especially ones that noticed Leon and his Charizard. And considering how much they stuck out like a sore thumb, a long shock of purple hair over a cape with a flame orange companion, that was everyone within a mile. Fans tried to get in some Champion Time and mostly saw you as an obstacle in the way of getting a moment with Leon. It’s not long that you lose sight of the two as you’re pushed back and away from them.

You call out Leon’s name, but all you can do is hear him try to calm down excitable fans. It must be tough having to put up an image constantly, and needing to cater to fans whenever he steps outside. He seems to enjoy though, at least, that’s what you see from the outside. Leon seems at his best when he’s among his fans, talking to them about Pokemon battles and striking poses. All the times you see him in private he seems off, maybe because you don’t treat him like a champion. You’re not really that interested in becoming The Best or getting his autograph. No desire to fight him and become champion yourself. Maybe it was selfish of you to basically ignore that Leon was The Champion of Galar, not putting much importance into it, because that makes up for so much of who he is.

A hand appears from the crowd and grabs yours. You try to stammer out a sound of surprise, but you’re pulled in as some of the fan part to make room. Soon enough you see the arm belongs to Leon, and you can’t help but notice how well-muscled it is. You fingers instinctively tighten and his rougher palm brushes up against your softer skin. Warmth creeps into your face as you lock eyes with Leon, who looks both determined and concerned.

“Hold on tight, we’re just going to push through!” He doesn’t seem to notice your reaction at all, and turns to move through the crowd.

Leon politely tells people to move aside, or that he’ll sign their grandma’s Alcremie’s Pokeball some other time, trying to stay a cheerful champion but getting more forward when fans don’t listen. You’re definitely noticing the amount of eyes on you, and wonder if the flashing you’re seeing is your anxiety or Rotom Phones. You feel Leon’s grip tighten as he begins to shoulder through people to get to the front doors of the stadium.

What look like event coordinators are trying to corral people into orderly lines and only let some in at a time. They stiffen a bit when they see Leon suddenly among the people they are trying to hold back.

“Ch-champion Leon!! What are you doing out here? Oleana has been looking for you!”

He puts back on that Champion Smile. “Sorry, I got a little lost on the way! You know me.”

The staff let out an exasperated sigh, then look over to you, eyes trailing from your face, to your hand being held by Leon’s, and back to your face.

“And who’s this?”

Leon suddenly becomes very aware of holding your and drops it.

“A f-friend! Sitting with me.”

He quickly waves and moves past them, signaling you to follow. When you enter past the doors you both arrive in what looks to be the lobby of the stadium. Is there you notice the front desk, and remember what Milo told you.

“Leon, one second, I need to deliver something to the front desk.” You beckon them to follow over as he and Charizard were about to go off in a different direction. Mercifully, there’s no one else needing to take up the attendant’s time, so you hope this goes quickly. “Excuse me, is this front desk?”

The man behind the counter looks up from the computer he’s typing on and nods. “May I help you?”

“Yes, I was asked to deliver this letter to you.” You take out Milo’s letter and give it to him. Leon sees it and his eyebrows scrunch in confusion. You must have forgotten to mention it to him in the rush of everything. “Hopefully everything’s all there.”

Business done, you turn to Leon. “Alright, that’s all! Ready to go? I’m so excited to see Hop and Gloria out there!”

You’re about to step away when you hear your name being called. Confused, you turn back to the man at the front desk, who is reading the letter that was in the envelope. “I’m sorry, how did you know my name?”

“It’s right here.” He shows you the letter, but you don’t understand why it would be there. “It’s an Endorsement Letter for the Gym Challenge. And not just any endorsement.” He points down to the messy signature at the bottom of all the writing. “This is from Milo, Turffield’s very own Gym Leader.”

It takes a couple seconds for you to notice your mouth is hanging open.

“Milo is a WHAT!?”

~*~*~*~

There he is on the big screen. Kind but goofy grin, messy peach hair, noticeably jacked silhouette. That’s Milo alright, and he’s waving to the entire stadium in an outfit you haven’t seen him in before, along with the other Galarian gym leaders wearing similar ones. And not only that… right next to him is a face you recognize. The model Nessa. Milo’s girlfriend Nessa.

You’re standing in a locker room with other Gym Challengers watching the screens of what’s going on out on the stadium pitch. The man at the front desk hurried you away from a confounded Leon, grabbing a uniform that looked your size, and escorted you to the room where new challengers would be waiting. And here you are now, wearing the numbers 168, standing between Hop and Gloria. The look on their faces when you appeared was priceless, but now they were mostly excited for you be there.

It is a mystery as to why Milo endorsed you to do the Gym Challenge, especially when you said you weren’t really interested. Pokemon battles don’t excite you, and you aren’t looking to beat Leon and become the next Champion. And he never mentioned that he was a gym leader the entire time you were with him! You suppose that you never asked, but isn’t it pertinent information for when you’re handing near-strangers letters of endorsements for the biggest sporting event in the nation!?

Everything was still processing through your mind when the event coordinators began to herd all the new challenges out of the locker rooms and into the tunnel that led towards the field. The noise from the crowd was overwhelming, thumping in your chest where your heart should be. A wave of anxiety churns through your torso as it hits you what is happening. This entire time you were confused about how you arrived at this point, but now you’re being asked to take your own steps forward. Hop is dragging Gloria forward who in turn pulls you closer to the pitch, only letting go once you arrive and see the crowds cheering.

How did you get here? You didn’t even want to be here. And now everyone sees you, both with their eyes and cameras, and it’s like there’s no turning back. You can’t run.

They eventually line you all up to go and shake hands with the gym leaders. Milo is first, and your heart beats faster as you approach him. Eventually, you’re in his periphery, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say he was beginning to stutter and turn a shade redder. Maybe that was just the effect of the stadium lighting.

Eventually, it’s your turn. You step in front of him and see that his emerald eyes are downcast and his face his completely red. He grasps your hand, but doesn’t really shake it. It’s almost as if he’s looking for an apology.

“Q-quite the surprise, huh…?” He’s able to get out at least that much, though you barely heard him over the din of the stadium.

“Milo, what is going on??”

You can’t continue the conversation because of the flow of the line, you’re quickly nudged over to face the next leader:

Nessa.

Shaking your hand, she looks you dead-set in the eye. You can’t help but notice how elegant she is, even in the sportswear. She leans in closer to you.

“Interesting.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from her. You notice Milo looking over to the both of you from the corner of his eyes.

“Make sure to beat Milo, I want to know what he sees in you.”

And with that, the line forces you to move on to the attractive older man next to her. You continue down the line, shaking hands with all the gym leaders, and only when you near the end do you see that Leon has also joined the gym leaders in the event. When you arrive in front of him, he gives you a look. You don’t know what it means, but instead of shaking your hand, he gives you a quick hug. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he whispers into your ear:

“Wait for me in the lobby.”

And with that, he sends you off with the rest of the line, back to his Champion smile and handshakes.

~*~*~*~

After being forced through some photoshoots with the League’s PR people, you change out of your uniform and head back out to the lobby with Gloria and Hop. The three of you chat before you’re approached by Leon, and by his side is a fashionable-looking man in a business suit.

“Congratulations again! You all looked great in your jerseys.” Leon high-fives the kids, and direct a small smile your way. “I wanted to introduce you all to Chairman Rose, he’s the head of the League!”

The chairman waves his hand in modesty. “It’s good to meet you all! I was curious to see who was able to get the Champion’s endorsement.” He then looks over to you. “And Gym Leader Milo’s! Very unusual and rare indeed.”

There is something about the chairman that makes you nervous. All that you know of him is from TV and passing talk, and it makes him seem almost god-like. At the vary least, the patron of all of Galar. He sees the Dynamax bands on the kids’ wrists and brings a hand to his chin.

“If you all have those, you must have been guided here by the light of he Wishing Stars… Auspicious indeed.” Rose turns to Leon. “I must be off, and I’m sure you have to get to things as well.” And with a friendly nod, he departs.

Leon crosses his hands over his chest with a smile. “That’s the Chairman for you, he’s always pushing himself for Galar’s sake! I learn so much from him.”

“And I’m going to push myself too! Just you watch, Leon!” Hop thrusts a finger at his brother. “I will be the next Champion of Galar! C’mon Gloria, we need to hurry to Turffield and get our first badge!”

Hop bolts off to the exit, and Gloria is shaking her head. “It turns out not matter how fast he runs off, no matter how long I take, he’s waiting for me.” Gloria is either just observant or already a fine manipulator of men. She comes over to hug you, squeezing tight. “I’m so happy my cousin is coming on this journey too! It makes it less lonely.”

“You always have my number, feel free to call if you’re ever in trouble, okay? ” Your eyes look up to Leon. “I have Pokemon now, that means I can help people.”

Leon returns an expression of curiosity, uncrossing his arms and smoothing his beard in thought.

Gloria pulls away from you. “Okay, I better follow Hop before he gets into trouble. I hope to see you in Turffield!” With a shy wave to Leon, she’s off through the doors.

The lobby is actually pretty quiet since most of the crowd of fans were moved out of the building as the challengers changed and were given instruction on what they needed to do. You were given a tour of the map of Galar, seeing the order of the gym you had to challenge before competing in the Champion Cup at Wyndon. You learned that the first gym you were to visit is Turffield Stadium’s. Milo said he was from Turffield so you imagined he would be there. You were hoping to see him out here in this lobby, but he must have slipped out some other way.

“Leon, I’m sorry, I had no idea what was in that letter!” This is the first time you’ve been able to speak with him one-on-one since you were suddenly pulled into the opening ceremony. “I told Milo I wasn’t interested in the gym challenge, so I have no idea why he did that. I almost want to drop out, it just feels wrong for me to take up a spot…”

“No.” Leon steps closer to you, closing the distance between you enough for you to tilt your head slightly upwards to meet him in the eyes. “I’ll admit that I was hurt at first… I thought you didn’t want my endorsement. That Milo was special to you.”

Your face begins to feel a bit hot, you’re not sure such strong emotions like this exists over sports.

“And to think he was the person you happened to encounter in the Wild Area this whole time, and you had no idea he was a gym leader.” The gears are turning behind his gaze. “He must have seen something special in you. As Chairman Rose said, you’re being guided by your Wishing Star… I was there, I know what your wish was.” He hits a closed fist in an open palm, like he just decided on something. “No, you’re supposed to do this, don’t drop out. I think I can do it by the time you get to Wyndon, if you’re able to push through.”

That last part makes your brows knit and head tilt to the side. “Do what??”

Leon looks like he said something he shouldn’t have, backing up from you. “Nothing, absolutely nothin-”

“There you are!”

A hug glomps onto you from behind, and the impeccable turquoise nails on the hands clasped around your shoulders signal that it’s Sonia.

“What a total shocker this is! You should have seen Leon panicking earlier when he told me the news.” Sonia giggles in your ear, her breath tickling at your neck.

The Champion of Galar fidgets in front of you. “ANYWAY,” It seems like Leon doesn’t wish for Sonia to elaborate further. “I have to get to some work for the Chairman. I’ll text you two later, the gym leaders always have a get-together before heading off to their gyms.”

He waves and dashes off to the entrance, seeming to steel himself before going out to the public.

Sonia lets go of you and turns you around to face her. “It’s been a sec since I’ve last been to Motostoke, or hung out with any of the gym leaders in fact.” As if being reminded of something, she lets go of your shoulders and begins to text on her phone. “Actually my best friend is a gym leader, I’m sure she’ll be down for a cuppa before we head to dinner.”

She begins to walk absentmindedly towards the door as she texted with her friend, and you followed, feeling more lost than you did before. At least you could see all of Postwick, and everything seemed predictable and quiet. Now are you not only out traveling a country you barely know, but are participating in its most important sporting event without a clue of what you were doing. Everyone else moved around so naturally, and to you, everything’s foreign.

“Alright?”

You didn’t notice that Sonia finished what she was doing on her phone and looked over to see how overwhelmed you were feeling. Giving her a weak smile didn’t do anything to convince her that you were okay.

“I got it!” Her eyes sparkle a bit as she grabs your hand. “You know what you could use? A bit of shopping!”

~*~*~*~

You have to admit, shopping and gossiping with Sonia does make you feel better. She mostly talks to you about their time in the Wild Area after you separated, wisely gliding around moments that would remind you of the worry you put them through and highlighting the amount of times Leon would get lost. Things begin to feel normal again. Sonia is mainly looking through the glasses collection, asking which pair makes her look the most professorial, if that’s a word. You’re feeling like you should look more the part of a gym challenger, you buy some track bottoms and a matching cap, along with a pair of purple sunglass Sonia slips on your face to match your yellow jacket. You had quite the fashionable and colorful getup for a gym challenger, you think, looking at your clothes in a mirror. The less this is about getting lost and grimy in the Wild Area, the better.  

Just as you both exit the store, Sonia’s Rotom Phone pops out of her bag and shows her a new text she received. “Brilliant!” She makes a couple taps before Rotom buzzes happily and flies back where it came from. “She’s meeting us at a cafe down the way! Just follow me~”

You stroll down the boulevard with her, looking around and taking in the scenery. The both of you pass buy vintage record shops and bookstores, all in their own ways inviting. Everything has been a rush since you arrived, but you hope to find an excuse to just look around Motostoke by yourself.

Eventually the two of you enter a trendy looking cafe, somewhere you could totally imagine Sonia meeting with friends of her. You scan the tables looking for a spot to sit when you see her:

“Nessa! Darling~”

Sonia moves to hug the gym leader, who was out of her league clothing and in fashionable clothing not too unlike the ones you’ve seen her model. Nerves all of a sudden wrack your body as they separate, and Sonia turns to introduce you.

“We’ve shaken hands before, but are you good with hugs?”

You’re shocked but begin to relax a bit when you give a friendly greeting hug to her. It makes you think, why are you nervous around her anyway?

Nessa gestures to the table she’s sitting at, which already has mugs of tea for each of you. “I got us all some Calm Mint tea, I hope that’s alright. I know I could use some calm after today.” She tests the temperature of the tea with a small sip before looking over to you. “You’re quite the interesting one, aren’t you? Wouldn’t have guessed you were acquainted with Sonia and Leon.”

You bring the tea closer to your noise so you can smell it. It indeed smells like what you imagine calm to smell like, soft floral and herbal notes stand out of the usual minty taste. “It’s all by chance really. I just happened to be in the right spot at the right time.” You think back to the dinner conversation you had with Leon back in Postwick, your first chance encounter with Milo, and shopping with Sonia.

Her eyebrows raise a little in response. “I guess I didn’t notice it during the ceremony, but that accent is Alolan, is it not?” After you nod, she sits back in her chair. “That makes more sense, you seem to both stick out and not really know what is going on.”

Unsure of whether she meant that as a critique or passing observation, you look down a little embarrassed. “I admit, I do feel a bit in the deep end at the moment. All of this is rather sudden.”

“Milo told me about what happened in the Wild Area. I guess you don’t really have places like that where you’re from.”

You get flustered under her gaze as she sips some tea, like she’s evaluating you. Sonia seems to pick up on this and changes the subject. “So Nessa, how are you and Milo doing? I know you both haven’t seen each other for some time, preparing your gyms for the challenge and all.”

“Oh yes, I meant to mention.” She sets down her cup on the table. “We broke up.”

What? Sonia is similarly shocked so you know this must be news to her.

“Really? When?? You were just talking about how you wanted to see him last night!”

“Just after the opening ceremony and before I came over here.”

She doesn’t seem said or upset at all, which confuses you.

“Nessa this makes it, what, the third time you two have broken up this year?” Sonia rolls her eyes and looks a bit unamused, but it seems more out of concern for her friend than any actual judgment.

“I think it’s for good this time. No really!” She responds to Sonia’s clear expression of disbelief. “We’re just really good friends and there’s nothing wrong with that. Just because we’re close doesn’t mean we need to be in a relationship. I mean, it doesn’t even feel like we are in one, things are just, well, normal.”

Sonia rests her chin into her palm and nods, as if she’s heard this before. “But you’re the one who keeps starting and breaking things off. Are you sure you’re not going to change your mind about it?”

“It’s for good this time, I swear!” She looks a bit indignant, which actually amuses you. It’s nice to know there’s a human behind what you see as a perfect mask. Nessa crosses her arms, looking more serious. “I told him that we’re rivals. No one sees us as a real challenge, and we’re not going to be taken seriously if we don’t get stronger. A Grass-type specialist is the perfect rival to help me rise to the top, and he could use any excuse to get more serious as a gym leader.”

“You’re serious? What did he say to that?”

Nessa frowns and picks her tea back up. “Oh you know, he just sort of laughed it off like he usually does. He said his only rival is himself or some nonsense like that. I think Milo feels nothing is really going to change between us, but it really is going to be different!”

You’re quiet for the most part, sipping on your tea as the two go back and forth. You can tell they’ve been friends for a bit. It felt good to be included, it’s nice to be around familiarity. Though it isn’t long until Nessa looks to you with a bit of a mischievous look.

“And what’s going on with you and Leon?”

The question hits you like a Wooloo Tackle from the side, making you sputter in your tea a bit. “I’m sorry?? What do you mean by that?”

Ness takes out her Rotom Phone, gives it a few taps, and shows you the screen. Opened up is the popular social media app Pokegram, and your eyes see pictures of you and Leon. “This is blowing up all over the place. Did you really not know?” In a post captioned Is Champion Leon Dating a Gym Challenger!?, there’s a few purposefully chosen pictures to make it seem you and Leon were intimate. The first was him hugging you at the entrance of Motostoke, then there ones of you entering the elevator at Budew Drop Inn together, him holding your hand going through the crowd outside of the stadium, and of course, his hug during the opening ceremony. Your eyes widen when you see the amount of likes, reposts, and comments.

��Oh my god.” Sonia gasps, looking at it from her phone. “We’ve been shopping all day, and no one knows your social names because you’re new here. So we’ve been oblivious this entire time!”

You’re stunned, sitting back in your chair. “How did they get all those pictures?”

“Sports fans are nuts here in Galar.” Nessa takes back her phone and scrolls through it some. “It’s not uncommon for us to have a stalking incident once in a while, all the gym leaders and Leon have to be extra careful of what we do out in the open. Especially Leon, who obviously has the most fans. I wouldn’t be surprised if Oleana is giving him an earful right now. The League is very controlling of our public image.” She looks over to you. “But it surprises me seeing all this, and it’s Milo of all people endorsing you for the gym challenge. Why didn’t Leon?”

It takes you a couple of seconds for the reeling in your brain to slow down enough to respond to her. “He did offer, but I said no. I wasn’t, and technically sorta still am not, interested in doing the gym challenge. I told that to Milo as well. So it was shocking to find out that he endorsed me. He just asked me to deliver a letter to the person at the front desk, he never told me that what was inside! I didn’t even know he was a gym leader!”

To your surprise, a small smile forms on Nessa’s lips. “I see, now I understand.”

You blink a few times under her gaze. “Understand…?”

Before she could reply, all three of your phones buzz. Your Rotom Phone zips out of your bag and opens up a text for you to look like. It’s a group text of mostly Galarian numbers you don’t recognize, from Leon and including Sonia. Seeing that Nessa got the text as well, you assumed it was to all the gym leaders.

It’s that time again everyone! Head on over to Huo Guo Hot Pot for our yearly celebration! Let’s start this year off with a Champion good time!

Don’t forget to thank our sponsors, Huo Guo Hot Pot, and take plenty photos for Pokegram!

(Oleana forced me to write that)

That’s right, Leon mentioned before there was a gathering happening. Given what you’ve just found out, you’re surprised he’s inviting you. Wouldn’t that just create more controversy?

~*~*~*~

Nessa leads the both of you to the restaurant, being the most familiar with Motostoke. You all chat pretty fluidly, any reservations you had being around Nessa washing away. It’s an important lesson about appearances, and giving everyone a chance.

You all eventually arrive to a restaurant with wooden finishing and lanterns, giving it a rustic and traditional style more akin to the Johto and Hoenn regions than anything in Galar.

“Despite being sponsors, everything here is really good. Kabu recommends this place whenever there’s a bunch of us in Motosoke.” Nessa mentions as she waves to the League official, who casts a suspicious look your way. “Both are with me.” They nod and hold the door open long enough for the three of you to enter.

Inside is actually quite spacious with many tables, but the only people inside seem to be associated with the League in some way. In the back corner of the restaurant you see some people waving, beckoning Nessa and Sonia over. You follow with a stone of anxiety in your stomach. In no way where you expecting this especially with everything that’s going on.

“Hello, hello! Make room for us why don’t you?” Sonia greeted, smiling and giving some shoulder pats and hugs. It seems like she’s already acquainted with most of the leaders, probably because she’s close with Leon and Nessa. As the text mentioned, it was a hot pot restaurant, and the current setup had four people sharing the same simmering pot.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to a new friend!” You’re certain you blushed when Nessa announced that, both because you were hoping to maintain a low profile and also you didn’t realize she felt so friendly towards you already. Most people were polite, giving smiles, nods, and basic greetings.

“Oi! Yeah you, come sit with us!” You notice a rather tall man grinning and waving at you, and if you remember correctly, he was the furthest down the line of gym leaders when you were shaking hands, just before Leon. In fact, at his table were two, quite interesting people: Leon and Milo. “Just want to get to know you a bit.” He winks as you eventually nod and separate from Sonia and Nessa.

You sit down at the table with a bubbling pot that smelled of mushrooms and spices, next to the stranger and across from Milo, with Leon on the opposite corner of you. Both of the men you know looked incredibly flustered, with Milo looking down at his plate and Leon staring somewhere off in the middle distance. Things definitely feel… awkward.

“’Name’s Raihan, I’m the sorry bloke that has to clean up all of this guy’s,” He jerks his thumb towards Leon. “messes. I also have the best ‘gram feed in all the League.” He winks at you again, leaning back on his chair and draping his long arms on the back.

After introducing yourself, Raihan insists on following each other on Pokegram. You look up to Leon and Milo, who are still shifting uncomfortably on the other side of the table, busying themselves looking at the menu. “What’s wrong with them?”

“That’s what I wanna know, luv.” He peers at them over his phone, still scrolling. “They’ve been acting right daft all day, one thing after another. Figured you would be able to help me out here.” He looks back to what he’s looking at on his phone, eventually stopping on something. “You’re from Alola, right? Accent fits, you have that look to ya.” After you nod, he shows something from Pokegram to Leon and Milo. “Is this what’s got your fancy, mates?”

Both of them turn red. When you look, it’s just a normal picture of you at the beach back on Melemele Island. Sure you have a swimsuit on, but so does everyone at the beach?

“Raihan, stop.” Leon swats the hand holding up the phone, causing the Rotom to zoom away and float by Raihan’s head with a buzz.

“Oh now you want to speak up. Tell me why you got hands all over this bird out of nowhere.” He looks to you. “You’ve seen the pictures, right? I mean, you were there, given, well, you’re the bird.”

You blink a few times being asked so forwardly. “It’s all still a shock to me too. Leon was just being friendly, we were separated in the Wild Area and by the time I arrived here, I was running late to see my cousin in the opening ceremony. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

Raihan smirks a bit, revealing his one sharp tooth that reminded you of a beast. “I see, I see. And Milo’s endorsement of you?”

Looking over to Milo, it seems like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Not only did he endorse a complete random, no offense, but breaks up with Nessa on the same day. When they didn’t walk out the stadium together, fans went rabid with speculation.”

“She broke up with me. N-not that it’s a big deal!” Milo finally chances looking up at everyone. “We’re still good friends, there’s nothin’ awkward or anythin’.”

“Right, right farm boy, we get it. But why did you endorse this bird over here? Have you met before today? You know the League, and the fans, dig into the lives of challengers endorsed by League representatives.”

“I’d like to know too, Milo. I was so shocked.” Your voice is soft, almost like how you would talk to your Pokemon. “I’m not sure what you see in me to use your own name to endorse me.”

Milo shifts his weight in his seat, breathes in some air, and looks up at you through his bangs. “I’m sorry, I shoulda told you. But the way ya handled Pokemon out ‘n the Wild Area is remarkable! Watched three different Pokemon accept your ownership without battlin’. That’s rare and unusual! And…” He fidgets some more instead of finishing.

Both Leon and Raihan raise an eyebrow at you. “Three Pokemon? Which ones?” Leon asks, not having seen it for himself.

“Umm, let’s see, I think he means Wooloo, Lotad, who’s now a Lombre, and Pancham.”

Leon is shocked, and looks to Milo. “So you were with guy with the Wooloo? And who defeated the Seismitoad??”

Milo bashfully nodded, stealing a look at you before looking quickly back down at the menu as a waiter stopped by the table. It seems like someone put in an order for you all already, and various vegetables, meats, and dipping sauces were placed around the pot. “Sake for the table?” When you all nod, small tumblers are placed in front of you and filled up. “Please let me know if you all would like anything else.” They take the menus, bow, and leave.

Raihan is the first to speak, lifting his cup. “To a new gym challenge, yeah? Here’s hoping none get through me and I beat the pants off Leon.”

“Hey, wait-” Leon’s brows furrow, hand halfway to tapping Raihan’s. “I don’t want to cheers to that!”

“And what bollocks do you wish for? Is it…” Raihan looks over to you.

Before he can say anything else, Milo thrusts his cup in. “Cheers to that!”

You play along, not knowing what is going on with these three, but smiling as Leon and Milo begin to open up and talk about this year’s challenge. It’s obvious things aren’t resolved, and there’s more going on behind the scenes, but you put that aside as you remember how much you just enjoy their company. Raihan is an entertaining contrast to their personalities. Where they are earnest and fumbling, he’s smooth and brash at the same time. He easily convinces you into selfies, and you can see that the other two are staring.

The food is indeed delicious, and sharing dinner with the boys is fun. Sometimes funny moments will come up, like both Milo and you attempting to grab the same lotus root, and spending an entire 5 minutes offering it to the other. Or Raihan overzealously dipping his pork into soy sauce and splashing who you learned to be Gordie sitting at the table next to yours. You realize, when you just let go, things work themselves out, and all the tension melts. Yes, things aren’t resolved. But as you look out to this group of people, you sense a feeling of belonging, and you know they will be, in time.

~*~*~*~

After dinner, the group splits in different ways. Some call flying taxis, others head back to Budew Drop Inn, and some even walk off into the city without really saying where they’ve headed. You head back to the hotel, the group boisterous with a healthy amount of sake in them. The rest of the city is quiet but has a low hum with all of the steam-powered machinery at work. The train has stopped by now, but steam lazily hisses from various vents on the streets. Looking up, you can only see a few stars. You realize you haven’t seen a clear sky since you’ve left Postwick. Only fitting given how cloudy your path seems.

Early in the walk, you feel a tug on your sleeve, and you turn to see Milo trailing behind the rest of the group. You hang back until you’re matching his pace.

“Hey.”

“Evenin’.” He’s not looking directly at you, but you can tell he’s a little more at ease. “How are you feelin’?”

Walking with him reminds you a little of the time you spent together in the Wild Area. “Hmm, lost, but holding faith that I will find my way.”

The both of you walk a couple of paces without saying anything.

“I owe ya a better explanation for everythin’. Just been a bit out of my element today.” He exhales, looks at you, and then back forward. “While it’s true I’m impressed by your ability to attract Pokemon, there was another reason I gave you my endorsement.”

You can tell he’s trying to work up to something. Instinctively, you reach out to his shoulder. “May I?” When he nods, you place your hand on it. Like the rest of his body it’s well-built, your fingers lightly rub the muscle you find there.

“I also did it because…” You can hear him gulp a little. “I wanted us to have an excuse to see each other again. ‘n for you to come to Turffield.” He looks to you, searching your face for a reaction. “I’ve enjoyed the time we spent together so far.”

That’s when you begin to realize something about Milo.

He’s cute.

Like, really cute.

“So did I Milo. I’m happy to hear you feel the same.” Whenever the two of you pass by a street light, you try and take in all the feature you can see. The soft qualities of his face, the hard qualities of his body. Everything you’ve felt about Milo rolled into this experience you’re having now.

“Really?” He’s being bashful, which makes you want to tease him a little.

“Of course. And you didn’t have to go through all this to see me again. You could, you know, ask for my number.”

“R-right!” A few moments pass in contemplation. “May I have your number? Jus’ for keepin’ in touch ‘n all!”

Smiling, you offer Milo your phone, and he puts in his information. When he hands it back you send him a quick text.

so glad i met you, all the way back at route 1 <3

By now you’ve reached the Budew Drop Inn, and all that remains is Sonia, Leon, Raihan, Milo, and yourself. Others, Leon in particular, grab your attention away from Milo, tipsy and full of low giggles. Riding the elevator is when you find out Milo is staying with Raihan. When they move to get off, giving their parting goodbyes, the sake in your system emboldens you to hug Milo. You can feel he’s surprised, but eventually he returns the gesture. It’s possible he said something to you, but it was too soft for you to hear. All of you wave goodbye as Raihan drags him away from you and the elevator.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you turn around to your friends remaining. Sonia is fighting persistent yawning while Pokegram is showing on her phone. Shifting to look at Leon, you see that he’s been observing you for some time now. His expression is a mix between sleepy and conflicted, like he’s trying to figure something out by just understanding your features. Something in your alcohol-influenced brain decides that Leon also wants a hug, so you step over and wrap your arms around his middle.

His body stiffens for a moment, before relaxing and hugging you tightly. You only now realize how comfortable Leon feels, since he’s usually so uptight around you. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the day, but you begin to drift asleep, closing your eyes and listening to the stead rhythm of his heart.

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 4: Slight Nsfw }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 3730

P.s: the nsfw is only in the beginning but it ends in stabbing like nothing graphic. Also would anyone like to be tagged when i update?

He doesn’t remember how he got here, or even where here was but it was familiar and felt like home. It was warm by the fire that lit up the room in feverish reds and oranges. He could feel his body gaining back its energy and his core being restored the longer the warmth surrounded him. In the comfortable bliss, he didn’t notice the pair of arms snaking across his torso until they were wrapped around his neck. His eyes shot open but he was quickly buried in the shallow of someone’s neck in a strong embrace. That’s when he felt the pressure of a body on top of his pushing down. He hadn’t registered the rocking motion against his hips until he heard the broken moan in his ear. Who? It was like a siren's call that made him clasp his hands on the body atop of him. He doesn’t remember how any of this started nor did he care to stop it. The pleasure he felt was intoxicating and drowned out all of his logical senses telling him to stop. He clung to her breathlessly as he felt his chest start to burn, he was now chasing this ghostly high throughout his entire body. 

“Vlad…” The voice called his name in desperation, begging him to continue and singing for all those to hear. Her voice was all he ever wanted to hear, yet he had never heard her like this at all. What? Nails dug into his shoulders and down his back leaving trails of red tracks and intricate designs. It stung like lashes but it fueled him even more as he shifted to bite her neck. Her cry sounded more surprised than pleasurable which worried him for some reason. Before he could pull away to ask if she was alright she pulled him in again and slammed down at just the right angle to distract him once more. 

“Fu-fiddlesticks,” He caught himself saying and pulled her down against him as close as possible. He hadn’t felt this in god knows how long and he refused to allow it to fade away. Once again her nails found his back and circled around his left shoulder blade. It tickled a bit and he chuckled into her, daring to take another bite of her lovely dark skin. 

Vlad had very much given in to this fantasy of whoever he had with him. Surely, there was no harm in enjoying a fit of passion in comfortable privacy. The hands around his neck now played in his hair combing out soft tangles. But when their hand pulled back with a few loose strands he peeked and saw how dark they were. ‘My hair hasn't been that way since-’ his thoughts were cut short as he felt the jerking motion of his body as the hilt of a blade buried itself inside him. Then followed a burning, searing heat pooling and dripping down before pain came from just under his left shoulder.

Vlad shot up from the bed choking back a scream of utter pain as his back still felt attacked. He was sweating and panting as he stumbled to get out of the bed and head towards the adjacent bathroom. He made it to the mirror and looked himself over. He looked exhausted, his long silver hair was a mess as it hung into what was left of his ponytail and his eyes were lifeless. What left him speechless was a small patch of hair towards the right that had now turned jet black. He fumbled with the strands mesmerized and very confused. He hadn’t seen the darkness of his hair in almost 24 years, yet here it was. Vlad’s head began to hurt as everything that had happened flashed across his mind. He was nearly torn apart and crumbled down to nothing, Vlad knew what it was like to be badly beaten but never to the brink of existence. He gripped onto the sink to steady himself when he felt the sudden weakness in his legs. 

He knew he passed out which meant Danny was the one to drag him all the way back home. Vlad felt embarrassed having to think about the young hero having to do so. After a moment of finding the strength to stand on his own again, Vlad pushed off the sink and headed towards the door of the room. He much preferred to be in the comforts of his own bedroom than the guest room. At this moment, Vlad cursed himself for being a rich bastard, the halls seemed to almost go on for miles. He had thought about trying to turn into Plasmius to hurry the journey along but he knew his powers were still in recovery. He was stuck in his normal human form until otherwise. When he finally made it to his room he heard talking coming a few doors down where Danielle’s room was. Who in the world was in his house? That’s when it hit him he was supposed to pick up Dani from Danny’s. Had Danny brought her home? Vlad slowly made his way towards the door and slowly pushed it open. Expecting Dani to be on her bed doing whatever she liked doing. Vlad found Danny instead looking out her window on the phone.

“Yeah no, Dani has to stay with me until all this is dealt with, not that she minds it. But Vlad still hasn’t woken up and it’s been three days and when he does I don’t think he’s going to be in the best of moods.” Three days? He had been unconscious for three days? Vlad swore it felt like a couple of hours from the time he fainted to now. He gripped his head when it started to pound again. Danny's ghost sense flew from his mouth and he turned around. “Hey, I gotta go, yeah he just woke up and the last thing I need is him dying on the floor. Talk to you later guys.” Danny hung up the phone and crossed his arms.

He gave Vlad a weak smile, “Welcome back to the land of the living, feel like shit?”

“Language,” was all Vlad could retort with before he pulled back out of the room and headed towards his. Danny followed but had never actually been in Vlad’s bedroom before. He felt like he was invading privacy but if this was where they were going to talk, fine by him. Danny should have known it would be a mini apartment but he wasn’t expecting the gothic-like interior. Sam would feel like the dark goddess she was in this room and it made him snicker. Vlad sat in an armchair in front of an unlit fireplace and slumped down to get more comfortable. Danny frowned, sympathetic to the situation, he had been there before, he took the chair next to Vlad and waited for the other to speak first.

“Where do we even begin?” Vlad grumbled before dragging a hand down his face.

“Maybe with what Clockwork told you,” Danny answered. Vlad only nodded and forced himself to sit up straight and take a more proper position before he told Danny everything. Danny really wanted to crack a joke, tell Vlad that’s what he gets for all the years going after his mom, mock him for breaking a heart he knew nothing about, however, Danny kept silent and only nodded along. Vlad took long pauses between his explanations and side rambles when he felt himself getting worked up. It was just a lot to take in.

“So… do’ya know which ancestor she might be linked to?” Danny could see it on Vlad’s face the man was just as clueless as he was back at the lake.

“No idea, like I told you my family stayed in Europe the whole time then settled in Russia. I'm a second generation American, there would be no point in my family owning a servant of African descent in the German empire then losing everything and going to Russia. None of this makes sense.” Vlad’s brows knitted together and he mumbled a few curses under his breath.

“Maybe there was an ancestor that came overseas during the Mayflower or whatever and they never went back. So like now you have this distant relative that your family never kept up with and they did something bad and BAM angry ghost.” Danny could admit he was a bit dramatic with his explanation, the hands in the air waving back and forth near the end was a bit much. But he had a point, a strong point, those that went overseas tended to be forgotten by the main family if the root of the tree stayed put. Vlad had many cousins he knew nothing about simply because they lived in other European countries. This didn’t feel like a distant cousin ancestor problem though, Vlad could feel that it was heavily tied to his main bloodline.

“I would agree with you, Daniel, but something tells me this is more within my family than some twice removed cousin.” Vlad looked up at the boy weakly. Danny huffed and nodded before propping his chin upon his hand. “I have access to my complete family records,” Vlad began again which made Danny perk up a bit. “I could try to trace back and see if anyone had travelled over during that time and had maybe gone back. I heavily doubt it but right now that’s all we have.”

“Better than nothing.” Danny tried to sound optimistic but he knew it failed. Vlad only nodded in agreement before staring off into the distance once again thinking. His thoughts were clouded between checking his family records but also the dream he had earlier. Danny felt the room become uncomfortably silent and knew it was time to leave Vlad alone.

As Danny got to his feet he scratched the back of his head and asked, “So do you need anything? I’ve kinda been babysitting you while you've been out, but don’t expect me to wear some butler outfit.” Vlad lightly chuckled and it made Danny feel a bit better.

“You can’t even tie a tie without throwing a fit, but anyways no I’m fine, you may go, Daniel.”

“M’kay. Let me know what you find.” Danny turned ghost and shot through the floor to get to Vlad’s portal so he could get back home. Vlad watched him leave then sighed before snapping his fingers for a ghost maid to appear. 

“Yes, Master?”

“Something heavy, no ice.” Vlad gave his order and the maid was fading away to retrieve it. A drink, a drink was what he needed even if his body was still in recovery.

[armandyke]

You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say

Summary: The children are twelve, and Diego is worried that Allison is starting to get careless with her powers. The other siblings don’t notice until it’s too late. 

Word Count: 2137

Square Filled: Rumour

Characters: All the siblings + Grace and Reginald Hargreeves

Warnings: Mild gore, mild blood, swearing

A/N: The first of nine entries for @tuacreatorsbingo!

You can read it here, or on my AO3

There had been a change in Allison in the last few months, and Diego seemed to be the only one to have noticed. Before, her powers were reserved only for missions and training, but now she seemed to be using them multiple times a day, for the smallest of things. He’d seen her controlling their siblings, and even if he couldn’t prove it, he was certain she’d controlled him too. Several times. Maybe he was the only person who was paying any attention, or maybe the others were choosing to ignore it. Either way, he never mentioned it to anyone, but sometimes he wished he had. 

Their last mission was a roaring success. Ten bank robbers apprehended, a few dozen hostages saved, zero casualties. It seemed like forever before they finally managed to escape the hoards of reporters and photographers swarming them. The others didn’t seem to mind of course. Luther stood proudly puffing his chest out, Allison and Klaus were in their element posing for photos, and even Five had a smug smile on his face. He and Ben loitered in the background until finally they were ushered into a car and driven home. When their father greeted them on the doorstep, his heart sunk, but for once he actually had some good news. 

“Children,” He said in his usual cold tone of voice, looking down his nose at them. “You completed your mission earlier than expected. There will be no further training until after dinner. Six o’clock, sharp.”

Never one to stay and chat, he turned and headed back inside, presumably returning to his office to get on with… whatever the hell he always did in there. 

“I think that’s the closest he’s ever gonna get to paying us a compliment,” Five said dryly from behind him.

“That was a compliment?” Klaus asked and Ben sniggered. “I thought we just got punished.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Luther told him.

Klaus punched Luther in the arm and Luther shoved him, sending him stumbling back a few paces. The two of them moved to hit each other again but Allison grabbed Klaus by the collar, pulling him back and forcing herself between them. 

“Stop it,” She ordered. “Dad just gave us the afternoon off and you morons are wasting it.”

“Maybe I wanna spend my free time beating the crap out of my brother,” Klaus said with a shrug and she let out an exasperated sigh. 

“We should play a game. We should play… Hide and seek!”

“I don’t want to play that,” Ben mumbled.

“Well I heard a rumour that you do,” She snapped. 

Ben looked blank for a moment, before nodding and agreeing that it was a good idea. Nobody else argued.

The rules were always the same. Number 1: No powers allowed. Number 2: Five is the seeker because he never listens to rule 1. Diego hid in one of the dozens of spare bedrooms, laying on his front under the bed with just enough space to peek out and see if anyone was coming. He had no idea how long he’d been hiding there, but he was starting to zone out when a voice next to him startled him and he lifted his head, smacking it on the top of the bed. 

“Jeeze,” Klaus said, wincing as Diego rubbed the top of his head. “What did you do that for?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” He muttered. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

“You’re not the seeker.” 

“Diego, we have two entire hours to do whatever we want. I’m not spending it hiding behind a curtain. Let’s go do something fun.” 

Klaus grinned at him, wriggling out from under the bed and holding his hand out to him. Hesitantly, Diego took his hand and followed him through the maze of corridors and staircases. 

“Where are we going?” He asked after a few minutes, completely losing his sense of direction as they ascended yet another flight of stairs. 

���Mom’s room,” Klaus told him as he finally ground to a halt outside a door. “I found it last week.”

“M-M-M…” He paused, letting out a frustrated sigh and trying to concentrate. “M-Mom doesn’t have a room,” He said, eyeing up the door suspiciously. “She sleeps in the hall.”

“She still has to keep her clothes somewhere,” Klaus said excitedly, pushing the door open and waving his hands dramatically. “Ta da!” 

Behind the door was a walk-in closet, similar to the one their father had, just a little smaller. The racks one one side were filled with brightly coloured dresses, and on the other, coats, hats, and scarves. At the back of the room there was a wooden vanity with an ornate jewellery box and a small collection of makeup. 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Klaus said eagerly, spinning around in the middle of the room before running over to one of the racks and running his hands over the fabric. 

Diego found himself wondering whether their mom even liked these clothes, or if this was just what their dad wanted her to wear, but before he could dwell on it for too long, Klaus was looping a deep blue silk scarf around his neck and giggling at him. 

“You look so fancy.” He sniggered. “Wait! You need a hat!”

Running back over to the rack, Klaus grabbed a black fascinator and pinned into his hair, before pulling him over to the mirror to show him his reflection. Diego burst out laughing when he saw himself. 

“I look stupid,” He said as he pulled the fascinator out of his hair, throwing it in Klaus’ face and making him laugh. 

“You just don’t appreciate fashion.” Klaus turned on his heel, gasping loudly and turning back around with a pair of bright red high heels in his hands. “What about these!”

“I’m not wearing those,” Diego said, wrinkling his nose up.

“Not for you, idiot.”

He watched as Klaus pulled his shoes off and stepped into the heels, clapping his hands together happily. 

“They’re so pretty,” He whispered. 

“They’re too big,” Diego observed. “No way can you walk in those.”

“Oh yeah? Just watch me.”

He took a step and immediately lost his balance, grabbing on to one of the dresses as he toppled over and landing with the fabric draped over his head. They both collapsed in a fit of giggles on the floor, leaning against each other as they tried to catch their breath. 

“What are you doing?” 

They both looked up and saw Allison standing in the doorway, with Five and Luther behind her. 

“Dressing up,” Klaus said with a grin, scrambling to his feet and wrapping the pink dress around himself like a skirt. “See? Now I’m you!”

“We were supposed to be playing hide and seek.”

“Well, you found me.” He shrugged. “Diego, I heard a rumour that you… Stood up!”

Sniggering, Diego got to his feet, and Luther and Five laughed. Still wearing the heels, Klaus shuffled back out into the corridor with Diego following behind him. 

“I heard a rumour that you all followed me,” Klaus said, trying to mimic Allison’s voice, and headed towards the stairs. 

Diego, Luther, and Five all started following him, and Allison folded her arms grumpily. 

“That’s not funny, Klaus.”

“Well, I heard a rumour that you do think it’s funny,” He said with a grin, turning back around to face her. “And I also heard a rumour that you stopped being such a spoilsport.”

“I am not a spoilsport,” She muttered. 

“I heard a rumour that you admitted you’re a spoilsport,” Klaus said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Shut up!”

“I heard a rumour that you stopped telling me to shut up.”

“I heard a rumour that you stopped talking!” 

Klaus was quiet for a moment, and the others glanced at each other uncomfortably. Then, without a word, Klaus turned and took a step down the stairs. Everything happened so quickly that Diego didn’t have time to react. Immediately, Klaus lost his balance in the heels, twisting his ankle and tumbling head first down the stairs. There was a sickening crunch, Allison screamed, and Five jumped to the bottom of the stairs just in time to catch Klaus before his head hit the floor. 

A horrified silence hung in the air as they all tried to take in what had happened. From the top of the stairs, Diego couldn’t see how badly Klaus was hurt, but he could see the blood on his face and on Five’s hands. 

“Shit,” Luther said behind him, pushing past and running down the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

“Someone needs to get mom,” Five said calmly. “Right now.”

Nodding, Luther took off down the corridor.

“What the hell did you do?” Diego asked quietly, turning to Allison. 

The colour had completely drained from her face, and it took her a moment to tear her wide eyes away from Klaus to look at him. 

“I… That wasn’t me,” She said, shaking her head. “He tripped.”

“Two seconds after you rumoured him.”

“I told him to stop talking! Not fall down the stairs!”

“Well he sure isn’t talking now!” 

Allison choked on a sob, clasping her hands over her mouth and shaking her head frantically. Before either of them could say anything else, Luther returned with their mom, whose eyes went wide when she saw Klaus lying with his head in Five’s lap. Diego hurried down the stairs, stopping dead in his tracks on the top step when he finally got a better look at Klaus’. The bottom of his face was swollen and disfigured, blood was pouring out of his mouth, and Diego could see a couple of his teeth had been knocked loose. 

“It looks like he’s broken his jaw,” Mom said, smoothing the hair away from Klaus’ forehead. “I’ll need to take him to the medical room.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Five asked as he reluctantly let go so she could pick him up. 

“He’ll be fine,” She reassured him. “The rest of you go and play. He won’t be awake for a while.”

After they’d found Ben and Vanya and told them what happened, it was a torturous wait for their mom to return with news. When she finally arrived, they all crowded around her, talking over each other with a million different questions. 

“He’s alright,” She said, raising her voice so they could hear her and crouching down to put her arms around them. “But he’ll need to have his jaw wired shut for a few weeks.”

“What does that mean?” Ben asked and she paused for a moment before replying. 

“He won’t be able to talk,” She explained. “Not until it heals.” 

Diego and Five exchanged a glance, and their mom stood upright again. 

“Now you all need to get ready for dinner. You know your father doesn’t like you to be late.”

As the others filed obediently out of the room, Diego tugged on her dress and looked up at her. 

“Can I go and see him?” He asked in a hushed voice. 

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and chewed her lip thoughtfully before nodding. “Alright,” She said, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “Just be quick.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Diego darted out of the room and headed for the medical room. The door was ajar when he reached it, and when he peered inside he saw Allison crouched next to Klaus on the bed. Sneaking inside, he could just about make out her whispering. 

“I heard a rumour that you don’t remember what happened.”

Klaus stirred on the bed and Allison ran for the door, almost running straight into Diego on her way out. The two of them stared at each other wordlessly as they passed each other, but Diego was more interested in getting to Klaus than confronting her. He ran over to the bed, putting his hand on Klaus’ shoulder as he blinked a few times at him. 

“Hey,” He said quietly. “It’s me.”

Looking up at him, Klaus furrowed his brow and moved his hand up to his mouth, feeling around and wincing. 

“You broke your jaw,” Diego explained. “Mom said you’ve gotta have it wired shut. So you can’t talk.” 

Despite his explanation, Klaus made a noise as he tried to say something, and Diego got up to look for a notepad, handing it to him and waiting patiently as he scribbled something down. Finally, Klaus held the notepad up for him to see. 

“What happened?” 

Diego opened his mouth, then shut it again and glanced over at the door, where Allison was still lingering and watching the two of them. 

“You tripped,” He said quietly, hanging his head. “You were trying to walk in mom’s heels and you fell down the stairs.”

[salamanders-please]

Ha-na x Mun Drabble

So I wrote a hurt/comfort MunHa kiss because I’m trash. It may or may not appear in a more polished state on AO3 if we ever get a tag, but here you go.

[Spoilers for Episode 6]

Summary: The dive into Mun's memory takes a dangerous turn. The demon that killed his parents nearly kills him. Almost losing Mun shakes loose some unexpected feelings in Ha-na.

Enjoy~! Please consider reblogging if you like it

—–***——

They slide off the bed as one onto the floor. She feels more than hears Mun’s breath rattling through him where their hands are still clasped together. It’s hard to hear much of anything over the rhythm her pulse pounds in her ears. That was too close – way too close.

Facing that demon has upturned the still-loose soil she’d buried her grief under these past few weeks. And Mun. God, she’d been such an idiot. She thought she was helping him. Make him relive his greatest trauma. What a great idea. Nearly get him killed in the process. Even better. She blinks free fresh tears and turns to see Mun doing the same.

The image of him lying prone and bloodied by the wreck of his parents’ murder flashes across her eyes and sends a lance through Ha-na’s chest. The grip on her hand doesn’t feel real enough and suddenly he’s too far away. She’d wanted so badly to run to him but she couldn’t. But now he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s within reach. He watches her, lost and vulnerable and she hates the pain she sees in his face. She squeezes his hand and he folds into her. His arms come up around her back – he clings to her like a lifeline, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

Ha-na wraps one arm around him. Her other hand curls into the hair at the nape of his neck. His shaky breath is hot against her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her eyes hot.

She feels him shake his head against her shoulder. “I wanted you to do it. I wanted to see.”

“I almost got you killed.”

“But you didn’t.”

Ha-na’s voice is hoarse. “But I almost did.”

Mun lifts his head abruptly and faces her. His eyes are gentle, his voice firm as he repeats “But you didn’t.” He cups her cheek and brushes away a fresh tear with the pad of his thumb.

It’s an accident, really. A vortex of guilt that spirals out of control and touches his mind, digging for forgiveness she doesn’t feel she deserves. By the time she realizes what she’s doing, it’s too late to undo. She’s already seen what he’s thinking. Something on Ha-na’s expression must have given it away because Mun seems to realize what just happened. He stills to stone, color fast creeping up his cheeks.

The impulse she saw is contagious. A little voice suggests she’ll regret chasing it later. But how could she when Mun’s lips are this soft? He’s slow to kiss her back. Gentle and unsure quickly becomes breathless and needy – more than a little sloppy. She tugs him closer – presses herself against him, rakes her hands through his hair. He’s here, he’s alive, and she’s happily drowning in him. They’re getting carried away. Probably. Almost definitely. But Ha-na can’t bring herself to care. Her mind is full of the salty tang left by his tears as she slides her tongue along his lower lip and the soft moan that escapes as his lips part for her.

It’s more of a whimper, really. And it’s so cute. Mun has no right being this cute.

The door latch clicks and the moment shatters like glass. Mun scrambles away, nearly falling onto his back. When had he crawled into her lap?

“Leave the door ajar,” his grandfather scolds. Blessedly, he does not peek his head in.

She stands and clears her throat, as if she did it forcefully enough it could also dispel the awkwardness sucking the oxygen out of the room.

“I should probably go before you get in more trouble with your grandparents,” Ha-na says. “Will you be okay?”

She sees him nod out of the corner of her eye. She goes over to him, bats his hand away from his futile attempts at fixing his hair. He lowers his head to make it easier for her. He’s not much taller than she is, she realizes. His face is so close, she could kiss him again so easily if she wanted to. He’s watching her from beneath his lashes with a question in his eyes. She doesn’t know how to answer it without ripping her heart out and laying it bare. So she doesn’t.

“There, now you don’t look like…” Ha-na trails off. The reality of the kiss sinking deep into the pit of her stomach. She’s taken a step off into the deep end, there’s no going back and it’s terrifying.

“Thanks.” Mun’s voice is quiet.

His hands cupping either side of her face steady her a little. The tenderness in his expression is blinding. Ha-na closes her eyes, filled with the giddy sort of dread that accelerates as you approach the peak of a rollercoaster. His lips touch hers, warm and gentle. The thrill of the fall washes through her.

When he pulls away this time, she feels a sense of loss – but the sinking sensation is absent.

“See you tomorrow?” Mun asks like she’s not at the noodle shop every day.

The corner of Ha-na’s mouth twitches. “Yeah.” She looks forward to it.