#and i should probably wash the teapot first

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

Do you ever feel so horrible for no particular reason

[nochuelinha]

Chapter 6: Concordia

   Over the next few days Edward stayed in his room, he didn't go to school for a few days, but I managed to convince him to go hunting with me once, he was much faster than Emmett, more agile and quieter, he was like a born hunter, I was impressed. It was one of the best hunts I've had, but it still didn't do much for him, he was quieter and more taciturn than usual. Esme talked to him a lot, I didn't want to intrude, but I know she gave him a lot of advice. Every day she would leave a different kind of tea on the table in her room, then I would go to mine and spend my time reading or listening to music, if I was quiet enough I could get into a state that reminded me of sleep, calm and serene.

     Today what was occupying my mind was my History homework, I went downstairs to the library and sat in one of the armchairs, read what I was supposed to do and looked at the shelves, I have no idea where to start, I sighed and looked at some books. I read a few and did some research on the laptop that was there, but I couldn't connect the information very well, I started writing the article with the little I had understood, after a few hours I had something to hand in, it didn't look very good, but it was something, Jasper was standing in the doorway.

___ You're very quiet - I said without looking at him - But the smell of your cologne is very distinctive.

___ I thank Alice for that, she chose it for me - he came closer and sat down not far from me - What are you writing with such a sulky face? - he asked genuinely, I explained that it was my history homework, he asked me to take a look, he read it all very quickly and handed it back to me - It's not bad, but it could be improved, do you want help?

___ Help is always welcome, share your knowledge the wise man of the mountain - I made a joke and he laughed. He indicated the points I should change and where I should add more information. Not long after, I had three pages and an impeccable piece of work - The great sage of the mountain, thank you so much for offering such knowledge - I bowed slightly and stood up - Would you like some tea to pay for your help? - I offered humbly, he laughed and accepted. We went into the kitchen in silence, Alice was there making hot chocolate and humming a lively tune, I took a teapot and put the water on to boil.

___ What are you doing? - she poured herself a cup and sat down at the kitchen counter.

___ The great sage of the mountain was helping me with my history homework, as I don't have any gold to pay for, I'm going to make tea - I replied casually, Alice laughed and Jasper came up to her and hugged her, they were very cute together, Jasper's curly blond hair was a contrast to Alice's straight, spiky black hair. I calmly made two cups of tea and served Jasper, who thanked me and leaned against the counter next to Alice. I leaned against the sink with my own cup and felt the warmth pass into my hand. The warm, sweet liquid was very welcome to me, and I noticed the dark blue cup I had left in Edward's room earlier, empty - Do you think he's all right? - I didn't need to name names to let them know who I was talking about.

___ Of course he is, he just needs some time, it may not have lasted long, but you know, we feel everything more intensely, pain, joy, sadness and love, it's not just our senses that have been sharpened, our feelings have been too - Alice replied calmly, she knew the extra affection I had for him, I was an open book in her eyes - You help him a lot, you don't let him feel so alone, we don't have the tact for that, you can get closer to Edward Taciturn.

     If the least I can do is help, then I'll continue. It's probably still early, so I washed the few dishes that were there, including those of the couple who were keeping me company. For the first time in days the piano sounded, a calm, light melody that conveyed tranquillity, Gymnopedie. I recognized the notes, it was the first song I'd been able to play on my own. I went to the door of his room, it was open, I leaned against the doorframe and closed my eyes, I'll never get tired of listening to him play. I don't know how long I've been standing here, it seems like hours, could it be that he's playing it over and over again? After a few minutes, the silence came. I opened my eyes and he was standing with his back to the piano, looking at me. I smiled at him, he didn't say anything back, but I noticed the softness in his eyes.

___ Shall we play one together? - he asked me. I walked over and sat down next to him - Do you want to choose? - I nodded and started to play Etude No. 2, he followed me straight away, our fingers worked skillfully, the sound filled the room and I felt light every time I played, the music became more intense and strong, but it didn't lose its essence, I concentrated so as not to miss any notes, it was fun to play with him. He chose the next song, I recognized the first notes as Für Elise, and as softly as possible I joined him to play, in harmony we continued to play for hours. The rain began to sound outside as a complement to the music we were now playing, after two more songs, I stretched and got up, looked for something to check the time, an electronic clock next to his bedside read 7:32.

___ It's about that time, I have to get ready - I hurried back to my room, but I felt a hand grab my arm, I looked back without understanding and Edward pulled me into a hug. After a few seconds, I hugged him back.

___ Thank you for spending time with me - his voice was soft and sweet. I wrapped my arms around him tighter.

___ Whenever you need me - I replied against his neck, and after a few minutes he let me go, so I went back to my room, thoughts racing and embarrassed, took a quick shower and got ready. I went downstairs quickly and Alice was in the living room with a smug smile.

___ Are you a piano duo now? - she asked laughing. I patted her on the shoulder and showed her my tongue - Come on, they're waiting for us.

I got full marks for my history homework and I was so happy. I liked the school routine more than most, it was fascinating to learn new things and discover things I didn't know. I sat in Edward's seat in biology class, Bella came in and sat next to me, I was surprised by the movement but didn't say anything.

___ I didn't want to hurt him you know... - she started, her voice whispery and low, but she knew I was listening - He's sweet and passionate, he's like a real prince, but understand my side - I looked at her, my eyes fixed somewhere in front of her - Jacob and I have a long history, now with the Imprinting everything has become much clearer, when I saw it everything was upside down - she looked at me, I see the way you look at him, that's why at first I didn't like you, it was like you were a threat, but in the end I was the one who hurt him, so take care of him for me - I raised an eyebrow at her and laughed.

___ It's not like I'm going to do something just because you asked me to, it was you who chose to try and fight something that was already written to happen, I admire your courage and audacity in trying to pursue what you want, but deceiving your own feelings was a stupid way of resisting - she was listening intently, her eyes filled with water, damn it, that's not what I expected - L-Look, I'm not judging you, no one is in charge of your heart, just let things happen naturally, try to be happy and not look at the moments you had with him in an unhappy way, as much as you liked Edward, when you're with Jacob you light up like a Christmas tree, you seem more alive and warm, you suit the heat, not the cold, Jacob is like Phoenix and Edward is like Forks, and like everyone everyone has their preference - I smiled at her and she let the tears flow.

___ Thank you for talking to me - she was about to get up, but I held her arm.

___ We're going to do a pair today, if that's okay - she settled back in her chair and the teacher came in. We had to use the microscope to analyze onion roots, which was worth an excellent golden onion. We calmly did the work, between side conversations and unfunny jokes, the bell rang and we won the prize. In gratitude, she let me keep the vegetable. I ran into Alice in the cafeteria, and before I could sit down, she stood up and hugged me. I squeezed her and we stood there for a few seconds.

___ You were very kind to Bella, she's not a bad person, she just wasn't the right one - she whispered in my ear. We pulled away and sat down.

___ It seemed like the right thing to do - I crossed my arms and looked at her table - We're not in charge of our feelings - she looked at me, I raised my hand slightly and smiled, she smiled back - Changing the subject, I think I may have discovered my special power - I looked at Alice excitedly - This morning in PE class, Matheu wanted me to play basketball and he was insisting a lot, I looked deep into his eyes and told him to get out, and amazingly he did - I looked at everyone, but found Emmett looking at me with amusement.

___ I think he was just afraid of your ugly face - he teased me.

___ Emmett, get me some pineapple juice, now - I looked into his eyes and asked, as if he had control over his own body he got up and went to get what I asked for. Jasper started laughing, he brought me my juice and sat down with a frown on his face.

___ Don't do that again - he muttered like a tantruming child. I sipped my juice smiling. 

Concordia means harmony in Latin, do Edward and Stella have harmony?

[dragon-kazansky]

Tea for two | Helmut Zemo

Requested by anon

Sequel to Tea for you

Zemo made the tea as he always did. The boys had got a lead and it was important they went and checked out the area. Of course, Zemo was going with them.

He was only making one cup today. The boys were insistent they had to leave soon.

After what Bucky did the other day, Zemo had begun to leave a Turkish Delight with your cup. It felt like he was completing his deed by doing both.

Once the tray was settled on the coffee table, he left with the boys. They were gone hours. Apparently it was a false lead, but Sam had picked up some information that may be useful. They would leave first thing tomorrow to check it out.

When they came back to the house, Zemo walked over to the tray. The tea was obviously cold now. He stared at the brightly coloured liquid.

Why was he still holding onto hope?

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He didn't need let his emotions get the better of him here.

You're dead. You're not coming back.

His fists clench in his gloves, the leather creaking ever so slightly from the motion. His heart will never heal.

Helmut picks up the tray and takes it over to the sink, tipping the cold tea away and washing the cup delicately as always. Once it's crystal clean, he holds it up and runs his thumb over the side. Even in the moment he wishes beyond belief you would come here and take it from him.

He sets the cup down and goes to bed.

Sam has them all up early. He wants to leave as soon as possible, but Zemo insists on pouring the tea as he always does. Sam sighs and tells him to be quick, he knows what this means to Zemo, but they can't waste too much time.

Zemo goes to get the teapot, but their morning is interrupted by Walker. John storms in like he owns the place and points at Sam.

"You know!"

"Hey, relax man."

"You know where they are." Walker got a little too close to Sam.

"We think we might know. There is a difference."

Bucky steps in, "back off."

Zemo sighs and puts down the teapot. He walks over to where the commotion is happening and comes to Sam's aid.

"We have information. You let us take you to where we think they are, you leave us to our own investigation," Zemo offers.

"If they're there, we are not wasting time talking to them. We need to stop them," Walker hissed, his eyes focused on Sam.

"Hell no, we do this my way. Go in guns blazing, they'll flee before we even have a chance," Sam states. "Be smart about this."

"I am smart."

No you're not. Zemo could almost hear your voice. He resisted a smile. Oh, the fun you would be having if you were here.

"Fine, let's go." Walker spat.

Teapot neglected, they leave the house. It pains him to leave without doing his little ritual, but time is of the essence. He's sure you would forgive him.

Hours. They're gone hours. All day, almost. The sun will be setting soon, that's for sure.

They enter the safe-house. It's quiet as they all go their separate ways. Zemo instantly goes over to the sofa, relaxing into the cushions. He was so tired. Tired of Walker, tired of all the fighting that ensued today, tired of being lonely.

He sighs and sits up, maybe he could have some tea with you now. It's later than usual, but it would still count.

He goes to get up, but something catches his eye. The tray he uses is sitting in front of him and a little note is resting on it. He leans over and pluck the note from where it sat.

'I missed your tea today'

He sat up straighter. What was this? It looked like your handwriting, but thats5not possible. Had Sam or Bucky done this to spite him? A cruel joke it would be, but when would they have had time to do it? Zemo had been with them all day.

Maybe I have finally lost my mind.

He stares at the neat handwriting. His heart is calling out to you and it hurts. He holds the note to his heart, his fingers squeezing the paper.

I need you.

He falls asleep right there on the sofa, the note crumpled up in his chest.

The next day, he pretends nothing happened. He had woken up before the other two and prepared the tea as he always did. This time he stared at your cup as he drank his own. That note was a sick joke and he hated it.

Do not give me hope where there is none.

He was stirred from his hopeless wishing when Sam came into the room. The other man stood opposite from where he sat, looking at him.

"We, uh, should go now. I think Karli is making a move."

"Right." Zemo places his half empty cup down next to yours and stands up. He goes to grab his coat.

The building has very people in it when they arrive. It's almost as they had been expected to arrive, which didn't sit right with Zemo. This could put them at a disadvantage.

"Keep your guard up."

They stepped carefully through the halls, looking into each room. There was no sign of anyone. Eventually they had come to the courtyard. It was closed in by the building, too many convenient spots to be ambushed from above.

"I don't like this," Bucky muttered, eyes moving from one spot to the next.

Sam was jumped from behind seconds later. Flag Smashers came out from every direction. Zemo held up his gun and began to shoot, any of them would help fulfil his work.

Bucky was fighting off to of them, Sam used his wings to his advantage, but the fact that Zemo was armed was concerning to him.

"You have a gun?"

"Of course I do, you didn't think I was coming here unprepared, did you?" He shot a few more bullets, two of them hitting his moving target. He just had to finish the job.

A shield flew past, knocking out the man he had shot.

Great, Walker was here.

Zemo chose to ignore the oncoming headache and closed in on the Flag Smasher, he aimed for the head. However, before he could take his shot, Walker was on him. He had grabbed Zemo from behind, using his arm to lock around his neck and pull him backwards. He pushed Zemo to the ground and held the shield up, so ready to get rid of him.

Walker suddenly fell the ground unconscious.

Zemo looked up to see someone impossible.

"It can't be."

You were standing over him, a gun in your hand. You had whacked Walker pretty darn hard with the butt end.

"Hello stranger."

Zemo had to be dreaming. You couldn't be here, you just couldn't!

You hold out your hand. It looked so real. His hand reaches for yours. He flinched when his fingers touch your own. He thought they would just pass through or tour would disappear entirely, but you curl your fingers around his wrist and pull him up. He stands.

"You not going to say anything?" You ask, softly.

"How?"

You smile and reach up, caressing his cheek. His tears fall. You were really here in front of him. The Baron leans into your touch, a gasp escaping his lips.

"I'm here, my love, my Liebling."

He loses his composure and envelopes you in his arms, holding you to him like a lifeline. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. His quiet cries break your heart, but you had expected this much.

He believed you to be dead.

All this time, all those years, he had been alone.

"How?" He asks again.

"I'll tell you later, but we should probably leave." You pull away to look at him. "Look at you, still handsome as ever," you chuckle.

He smiles before he pulls you in to kiss you. It was long overdue and he needed this. He needed you. You melt against him, focusing only giving him what he wanted.

Sam clears his throat.

You both pull away you smiling at each other. Helmut reaches for your hand, you give it a little squeeze.

"Apologies."

"Who is this?" Bucky asks, looking at you.

"This is Y/N."

"Know each other, do you?" Sam is trying to grin. He saw exactly what you two were up to while he and Bucky fought off the masses.

"Something like that," Zemo replies.

"I think I'm owed a cup of tea, Helmut." You look at him.

"About that, how did you know? That note..."

"I've been watching over you since you got out of prison. I was watching over you back when you were tearing the Avengers a part."

"I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry, Helmut."

He brings you into his arms again, holding you close to him.

"I forgive you."

You cling to him.

"Wait, this is who you keep making tea for?" Bucky asks.

You nod at him when you pull away from Zemo once more.

"Thank you for the Turkish Delights, by the way. That was you, wasn't it?" You ask him.

Bucky looks a little startled.

"Uh, yeah."

"Maybe we should go back and catch up. I have a lot of time to make up for." You look at Zemo.

"I want to hear everything," Zemo says, smiling.

"I won't leave out a detail."

Zemo keeps a hold of you as you all leave. He was never going to let go of you again. He had lost you once before and it was the worst pain imaginable.

Not even Walker's headache, when he wakes up, will be remotely close, and that will hurt a lot.

You are reunited with the one person you love the most. Happy doesn't even cover it.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna

[bunnykawa]

what are you doing, step bro? (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: To your parents, Sakusa was the greatest son. To you, he was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, but you could only find that out with a little force.

a/n: i literally just started college so i won't have much time to write but i have some stories in my drafts that'll be posted in awhile lol. should i open requests for haikyuu drabbles since they're short but still entertaining?? idek i feel like no one is reading this rn LOL but if anyone is reading this, lmk ;)

(edit: I HAD TO REPOST THIS CS IT WASNT SHOWING UP IN TAGS so sorry if you already liked this post)

warnings: 18+, incest, mentions of drugging,  mentions of somnophilia, mentions of parental neglect, noncon/dubcon/rape, sakusa is a dirty pervert i just don’t know how else to tag this, degradation, slight manipulation

"(Y/N), this is your new big brother, Kiyoomi," your mother said, holding tightly onto your small shoulders as you stood in front of her.

"You can refer to him as your nii-san from now on." Locking eyes with you was an older boy with long black wavy hair, two moles on the right side of his forehead, and a white face mask on the lower half of his face which blocked his nose and mouth. How odd, you thought. You could tell he was disinterested with how his eyes were blank as he stared at you.

That was the first time meeting your step brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Being four years younger than Sakusa, you two never really got along. Of course you had to respect each other, but there was nothing to really talk about other than when his volleyball games were or unfulfilling small talks. Sometimes he would make snide remarks, asking if you even showered when your hair was only slightly messy or if a smart word ever came out of your mouth when you stumbled over your words. Sometimes he was just mean to you in general to the point where you would cry. You always tried to ignore it, though. That was when you were younger. You couldn’t help that you weren’t that smart and he was your nii-san after all. Your parents would brush it off.

You celebrated his victories together, only because you had to. I mean, you were the younger sister of one of the nation's top three aces in high school volleyball. There was no way your parents wouldn't celebrate. He was their pride and joy.

Smart, athletic, incredibly attractive — everything you felt like you could never live up to.

Your own biological mom so obviously and painfully liked him more than you.

Before you even entered high school, Sakusa was old enough to move out and go to college where he continued to play volleyball. When he visited during the holidays, you still wouldn't have decent conversations with him. He would still insult you. It even made you cringe when you had to call him nii-san. Why address him as your older brother when he didn't even act like it?

But you dealt with it because you had to.

Fresh out of Itachiyama Academy, you're focused on studying for entrance exams for colleges in your area rather than what would happen if you ever had to see Sakusa again. But, you were expecting to see him very soon.

Gentle knocks are heard from outside your door and before you can respond, your mom is already opening it.

"(Y/N), Omi is coming today and he's gonna be here for a week. I have to go to the grocery store to buy food and I'm gonna run other errands so it's gonna take awhile," she says, leaning her head into your room. You respond multiple times with "okay" so she can leave your room sooner.

Textbooks and notebooks are strewn across your bed with you on your stomach, trying to cram as much information in your head as possible.

"That means I might not be here in time for when he comes, so you have to open the door and greet him," she adds.

"What about dad?" you ask with a grimace. The most you would do is say hello and scurry back into your room.

She rolls her eyes at you. "He's working late again. You know that, (Y/N)." With a sigh, you agree and she finally leaves your room after bidding you a "goodbye."

You can't remember the last time you saw Sakusa, but it was probably almost half a year ago. Ever since he left for college, your parents were even more distant towards you. They probably felt like they didn't need to worry about you because you weren't doing anything important.

When Sakusa came over, he barely acknowledged you and you were okay with that because it meant he wouldn't be bothering you.

But that didn't mean his blank stare wouldn't catch your attention whenever you came out of your room to eat or use the restroom. The atmosphere felt...very odd around him. You couldn't necessarily come up with a reason why.

Suddenly, you hear knocking on the front door. It had to be at least an hour or two since your mom left and the thought of who was waiting at the door made your stomach churn.

"Nii-san is here," you mutter to yourself as you got up to open the door. Right as you open the door, Sakusa was staring down at you with the same blankness in his eyes from before with his usual face mask. His hair was shorter than you remember.

Mindlessly, his eyes seem to scan your body before returning to your face, making you feel self-conscious. You were only wearing black spandex shorts and a loose tank top. Subconsciously, you rub your arm and step back to make space.

"(Y/N)," Sakusa acknowledges you in a deadpan voice. It's no surprise to you.

"Hi, onii-san. How are you?" You try so hard to be polite, but Sakusa seemed to have a naturally dominant energy that overwhelmed your senses, even if he also seemed to have the personality of a jar of mayonnaise. You step aside so he can come in. He wore gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker that was zipped up all the way. As soon as he makes it inside, he removes his face mask, stuffs it in his pocket, and starts unzipping his jacket.

"I'm good," he hums, "Where's mom?" He places the backpack he was carrying on the couch and takes a seat as you close the door.

"She's out doing errands and dad is working. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Make sure you wash your hands before you do. Thank you," he said. You walk into the kitchen, muttering "germaphobe" under your breath at his extra request. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you from his place on the couch as you walked around the kitchen, pulling the tea kettle out of one of the bottom cabinets and looking for cups. His gaze followed the outline of your ass in those tiny shorts that hugged your bottom tightly.

"What college are you planning on going to, (Y/N)?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm applying to the college you're going to and three others," you replied from your spot near the counter.

Sakusa actually perks up at your answer. "Oh, cool. You'll love it there if you get in. Only if, though. You're not the brightest."

You couldn't help but let your face fall in a frown at his seemingly small comment. Quickly, you compose yourself and brush off his remark. You got the water boiling in the tea kettle and reached high for the teacups that were sitting on the top cabinets. Your stepdad definitely put them up there.

A presence looms close behind you, which makes your whole body automatically freeze and tense up. A veiny, bulky arm reaches up easily to grab the teacups while another one snakes around you to pull your tank top down as it was exposing your stomach. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but you definitely feel something stiff brushing up against your back.

"You need to be careful. Don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" Sakusa commented, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to your ear. A blush found its way onto your cheeks from feeling him so close to you.

He usually hated being so close to people. What was so different today?

"R-right," you stuttered, "Thank you, nii-san."

Confrontation wasn't a strong trait of yours.

You guess that moment was when it started getting really weird between you two. You still had small talks from whenever he would actually see you come out of your room, but you wanted to avoid him as much as you could. However, that was hard when Sakusa insisted that you drank tea together every night and, of course, your parents insisted, too.

Your nii-san wants to spend more time with you, they would say excitedly. Better late than never!

Maybe if he was showing the slightest bit of interest in you, your parents would finally care about you. So, with much hesitation, you started drinking tea with your step brother every night. Sakusa even made the tea himself so his poor little sister wouldn't tire herself out with carrying that heavy teapot.

You're still not sure if you're imagining things, but the tea tasted different from how you made it. And you swear that the tea didn't make you so sleepy after drinking it until he started making it.

"Come here," Sakusa would say with a smirk, "Onii-san will take you to bed."

You would pass out before you even made it to bed, but every morning you woke up with sticky thighs, only blaming it on sweating while you were sleeping.

Until one day, you didn't drink all the tea that he made you. You still fell asleep, though. Your brain was hazy enough to make you lose consciousness as he helped you up from your seat in the kitchen.

Sakusa laid next to you on your bed. You were placed on your side so he could slide under the sheets right behind you to press his hardened length against your ass. This was his favorite part of the night. He spent a few minutes playing with your cunt to make it slick enough for him to let his cock break through your walls.

You barely stirred awake. Didn't even move an inch as he caressed every part of your body, from your soft nipples to the sensitive nub between your thighs.

He pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his thighs quickly. His cock hit your ass before settling between your folds. A satisfied moan leaves his lips when he feels your wetness coating the top part of his shaft as he rubbed it against you. He hooked his arm around one of your legs so that you were spread open enough for him to fuck you and rub your clit at the same time with his other hand.

He wanted that sweet nectar completely coating his dick. He remembers the way you tasted and how you came on his tongue the night before, despite being blacked out from the little pills he would dissolve in your drinks. You tasted so clean and smelled so fresh. It was impossible for your nii-san to control himself around you.

And when did your ass look so good? God...Sakusa couldn't believe he never noticed how cute and well-shaped you were. You weren't that little girl he met when you were both kids. You were pushing adulthood now. Still pathetic looking, still too shy, still small around him, but fuck, he definitely would have pushed you over the counter the first day he came over and fucked you until you were crying and gagging.

He continued rubbing circles onto your clit and letting his cock soak up your juices. Gently, he positions the tip at your entrances and pushes in slowly.

"There you go," he whispers in your ear, "I know it's a little big. Don't worry."

He manages to fill you up all the way, making him groan. Your walls were tight around him. He thrusts in and out of you carefully, salvaging the feeling of your slick interior.

But you didn't drink all the tea, which means that you could wake up earlier than he expected.

Sakusa didn't expect you to wake up now.

You stirred slightly as you regained consciousness. Although your eyelids were heavy, you tried to force them open only to be met with darkness.

"Mmm," you croaked, rubbing your eyes. The odd feeling of being filled up suddenly made you wake up more. "W-what's going on?"

"Fuck," Sakusa muttered from behind you. You felt a hard chest pressed against your back and...a hand on your pussy. No, something inside your pussy. And that voice was so familiar.

You quickly whip your head around when the realization dawns on you. What the fuck is happening? While your eyes adjust to the dark room, you see two familiar eyes staring straight back at you. He stopped grinding his hips against you for a moment as if time stopped.

"...Nii-san?" you hesitated. His breathing was heavy and he stayed silent.

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" you asked in a panicked voice. You quickly tried to get up from your position, only to be held down by Sakusa’s muscular arms. His hand wrapped itself over your lips to prevent you from screaming.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, (Y/N),” he whispered. A muffled scream tries to escape your lips. He continued to fuck you slowly, leaving a burning feeling in your walls. The same sore feeling that you would sometimes wake up to within the past few days.

For a moment, you pry his fingers off of your mouth. "I don't understand...Why are you...?" You yelped in surprise, horror, and pleasure as he delivered a sharp thrust from behind you. The smack of his hips against your bare ass made you cringe and feel so disgusted with yourself. Nii-san is actually inside me.

"My poor little sister," he chucked darkly. He suddenly wraps his arm around your knee tighter and forces your legs wide open, your knee almost touching your chest. Instead of putting his hand over your mouth to shut you up, he kneads your breast. His hands were so large.

"You think you can walk around the house looking like a little slut in those tiny shorts?" He stretches you open with his hard cock with slow, yet hard, thrusts. It left your mouth agape, but no sounds left your throat except for small squeaks that you couldn't hold back. "You stupid bitch. Just as dumb as I could remember. Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to bend you over and fill you up with my cum like the stupid, desperate slut you are."

He was satisfied as you were barely fighting him. All you did was desperately search for something to hold onto and bite your lip because you were so scared. His words were painful. "Look at you. A waste of fucking space, only good as a fuck hole. Didn't even realize she was getting drugged and getting fucked every night because she's so fucking stupid."

Weak. That was all your brain was telling you, mocking you, as Sakusa didn't stop moving against you and insulting you. This wasn't the first time. It just so happened that this time you were able to wake up.

"I-I..." you stuttered, "I'll...I'll tell mom and dad." The sheets were gripped tightly between your fingers. "I'll tell them- mmmm...what nii-san has been doing to me..."

"If you tell mom and dad, they wouldn't even care," Sakusa said in a patronizing tone. The way his hand was caressing you made you wanna cry.

“They would!”

"Mom and dad don't even treat you like a daughter, (Y/N). When was the last time they told you they loved you?" Even if his question was rhetorical, your mind went completely blank. You can't recall a moment where they ever told you they loved you.

"B-but, this isn't right! You're not supposed to be doing this," you argued. It was a surprise that your mind wasn't completely clouded by how big his cock was and how his thrusts felt almost hateful.

"You think they would choose your side? You'd be ruining your own life. Maybe you'd ruin mine. And it'd be. All. Your. Fault." With each syllable, his movements became sharper. "You don't wanna betray your nii-san by saying something, do you?"

"You love your nii-san, right?"

You do. You love him so much, even if you tried to avoid him and he never said a single good thing to you in your whole damn life.

Because you have to love him.

You stopped gripping on the sheets to the point where your knuckles were turning ghostly white to brush away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body shook, from both crying because of Sakusa's painful words and how hard he was fucking you. The pleasure building up in your core was overwhelming you, making that intense feeling of having to pee forced out of you.

Hearing your sniffles and small cries, Sakusa pulls you even tighter against him, but doesn't stop his relentless thrusting. It turned him on even more. He pushes your hand to brush away your tears for you, like good big brothers should.

"It's okay, (Y/N). We both know mom and dad don't love you."

A loud cry erupted from your chest. Maybe if your parents cared about you, they'd be running to your room to save you the second you started crying. But, no. Sakusa was basking in the fact that you were hurting on the inside. After years of negligent silence, you were finally letting it all out.

"But nii-san loves you," he said with a smile.

Although his words seemed to stun your entire being, you manage to choke out a "What?" Like it was the first time someone ever told you that they love you.

His torturous thrusts almost distracted you. Fuck, why did it feel so good to have your step brother fucking you on your side like this?

"I love you." He sweetly grabs your face so you can turn your head to look at him. There was a pounding in your ears coming straight from your chest. A warm feeling spreads throughout your stomach.

"You...you love me, nii-san?"

"Of course I do." He was actually smiling at you, "If I didn't, would I be inside you right now?"

His face didn't seem so blank anymore. Sakusa never ever smiled at you. Hell, he never really smiled in general. Someone actually loved you. Holy shit. And he was even pounding away at your insides like you were a fuck doll.

Is that why he's so mean? Was he just trying to hide his feelings for you this whole time? You could die laughing right now. His cock felt so damn good rearranging your guts against your will yet you were struggling to accept it.

Your cheeks naturally puffed up in happiness as you smiled so brightly at him. The flip switched in your brain so easily. Without another word, Sakusa kissed you passionately, because he knew you would let him continue to ravage your body. Your hips began to buck from the pressure building up in your lower half and you starting pushing your hips towards him, welcoming his length inside you. It felt like you needed more of him. More of his love.

Love me.

"Nii-san," you gasped against his lips. His movements never faltered, which you figured was from his amazing athletic ability and stamina.

"Be a good little sister and cum on my cock," he coaxed. He could tell you were so close to cumming from how tightly your precious cunt was hugging his length and how you were squirming against him. You were both slick with sweat. As you started squirming more violently against him, Sakusa tightened his grip on you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined desperately, “Nii-san, I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed his arms and pushed your fingernails into his skin, making him hiss from the sudden pain. With a firm grip over your mouth, he muffles your screams. Satisfaction settled in your stomach as you exploded all over his cock. Your sweet juices trailed down your thighs onto the bedsheets.

As much as Sakusa wanted to, he couldn’t fill up your insides and see your hole dripping with his cum just yet. He quickly pulls out of you and lets his seed shoot onto the bare skin of your ass. The shock of your orgasm left your thighs trembling, your skin wet, and your eyes drooping.

“You’re the best little sister.”

You would’ve replied, but you could barely form any words as you lost consciousness again. When you woke up the next morning, you were fully dressed and cleaned up, with no stickiness between your thighs like how you used to wake up.

Sakusa actually cleaned you up this time. You felt your heart melt and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Everything seemed to go back to normal between you two, with the same small talks and not really seeing each other often, but he always had a knowing smirk on his face whenever he saw you.

Whenever his eyes would trail up your body to meet yours, you could feel a warmth in your stomach spread all throughout your body which forced you to look away quickly. Whenever he insulted you, you would feel your thighs press together. Whenever you caught yourself admiring his features when he replaced his face mask for a new one, you smiled softly to yourself.

When it was time for him to leave, you couldn’t help but let a few tears shed. He was all set to go, with his backpack on and his mask covering his face.

“Hey, don’t cry, (Y/N),” he cooed, wiping your tears away, “You know I won’t be gone forever.”

You sniffled, “I know. I just hate being here alone.” Well, not necessarily alone. You just hated being ignored and neglected just because you weren’t your brother.

“If you manage to get into my college, you can move in with me. How does that sound?” You instantly perk up and dry your tears with your shirt.

"Really?!” you asked with excitement. You imagine all the things you could do with your nii-san without your parents in the picture. You could go out together, hold hands, share kisses, just about anything. He could even fuck you whenever he wants.

These thoughts about your own step brother would've made you feel sick before.

But that was before you knew Sakusa loved you. Now, you couldn't help but ask your mom when the next time your nii-san would be coming to visit. While you were waiting for his next visit, you studied hard.

College would be so much fun with your nii-san with you!

Part 2

[squeamishdionysus]

Healer

pairing: Jet x Reader

TW: Heavy injury, near-death experience, discussions of trauma

Summary: The Freedom Fighters take Jet to a family of healers after his fight with Long Feng, where he begins a new friendship with the reader.

Notes: Hey everyone!! This was a request for a user on another platform who wanted a Jet x Reader. After many, many rewrites, I finally settled on making a two-parter, with this being the first part! I hope you like it and if you do, please feel free to leave a comment!!!

Masterlist

The sun had just risen over Ba Sing Se. The sky was an orange tint with only a few clouds in sight, the kind of day that always puts you in a good mood. You had opened the curtains wide, letting streams of sunlight fall into your living room, warming and brightening the space. You put a teapot full of hot water on top of the pot stand, using your spark rocks to begin heating it. Your parents hadn’t woken up yet, and you didn’t plan on waking them up any time soon.

You were the child of a mixed couple, with your mother being a refugee from the Northern Water Tribe and your father being a local in Ba Sing Se. Your mother moved to Ba Sing Se a long time ago, after the man she was originally arranged to marry died fighting in the war. Being a waterbender and a healer, she became very popular among the locals, opening her clinic in the Middle Ring, where she healed anyone who needed it. That’s how she met your father.

Eventually, of course, they had you, and as fate would have it, you were a healer and waterbender, as well. Your mother taught you as much as she could, and as soon as you were old enough, you began helping her. Even with your help, though, business could still be tiring. That was why you were letting them sleep.

You sprinkled a few jade tea leaves into the water, looking out the window and watching the houses around you begin to wake up. Your neighbor, Mrs Yao, was out watering the flowers in her garden. A few stray cats sat out in the alleyway, their tails swaying patiently as a boy, the son of one of the other neighbor’s, left out a saucer of milk for them. A newlywed couple kissed each other goodbye as one of them began her commute to work, the other bouncing a small baby on her hip. A group of children chased each other down the street, giggling and playing as they slowly made their way to school.

It was rare you got to see such a scenic morning. Perhaps you would take a walk after breakfast, just to enjoy it a little more. The gardens around this area were always nice to walk through, and you were sure they’d be even nicer with the weather.

You continued looking out the window, thinking about all the ways you could enjoy this fine morning, eventually having to check on the tea. You took it off its stand, putting out the fire and pouring yourself a cup. You sighed, holding the cup up to your lips and breathing in the scent of hot tea. Jade had always been a favorite of yours

A sharp, urgent knock rang out, startling you. You couldn’t think of anybody who would be visiting this early, so you hurried over to the door. You opened it just enough to peek out and felt your heart drop. You felt panic wash over your body, the scenic morning turning all the more grim.

In front of your house stood two people, a boy and a girl, holding up an unconscious and seriously injured boy in their arms. The girl had clearly been crying, the paint on her face was smudged and you could tell just from the expression of the boy helping her that whatever had happened was not good. As for the boy they were carrying, he didn’t look good at all. His eyes were shut, he couldn’t stand and he could barely breathe.

“Please,” the girl spoke, desperation in her voice. “Our friend was attacked by an earthbender. We heard a healer lives here and we need to see her.”

You stammered, struggling to think. Panic was setting in, and you couldn’t get out a single sound. You didn’t know what to do, but you’d have to figure it out. You took a deep breath in, clearing your mind and beginning to think. Stepping to the side, you began to speak.

“Get in, go to the hall and find the guest bedroom. Lay your friend down on the bed in there.”

You watched as they entered the house, rushing down the hall of your house and into the guest room. You turned to the basin that sat in your kitchen, holding up your arms and bending a round bubble of water. You walked as briskly as you could to the guest room, walking in and kneeling beside the boy. You bent the water over his chest, feeling all of the broken and bruised ribs he had. You frowned.

“This doesn’t look good,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the girl fighting back another stream of tears. The boy beside her hung his head just enough so that you couldn’t see his face. You stared down at the injured boy in front of you, looking at his face. His eyes were still closed shut, his breathing short and tense, but steadier now that he was on his back. What were you going to do? You could try and heal him on your own, but it would be incredibly difficult, especially at your apprentice level. It was unlikely he’d live. There was only one thing you could think to do.

You bent the water into a nearby vase, standing and furrowing your brow in a serious expression.

“I need you two to take off everything covering his chest. It’s the only way I’ll be able to heal him effectively.”

They both looked up at you, a hopeful look coming across their faces.

“I need to get my mother.”

~

“These injuries are serious. What happened to him?” your mother asked, looking up at the Smellerbee and Longshot. They had told you their names after your mother and you had begun your healing session with their friend, Jet. You had woken up your parents half an hour ago and explained the situation, your mother immediately going to help. Your father was currently making a special medicinal tea in the kitchen, hoping it would be of help to Jet.

“It’s a long story,” Longshot answered. “And even if we had enough time to explain, we aren’t in a safe enough position to say.”

Your stomach tightened. Were they involved with some kind of gang? That would explain their clothes and face paint, but they seemed too friendly to be in one. However, that didn’t dismiss the idea that they could’ve just been targets. Either way, you were worried.

Your mother nodded. “I understand. I won’t pry any further. How about you tell us more about yourselves?”

Your father walked in, a soft smile on his face as he placed a tray of tea down.

“Jet, Longshot and I have been together for a long time,” Smellerbee spoke. “Before we came to Ba Sing Se, we lived in the woods around a small village that had been taken over by the Fire Nation. We stuck together because the Fire Nation had taken something away from all of us. Both Jet and I lost our families, and Longshot's village was burned to the ground."

Your father gave her a sympathetic look as he handed her a cup of tea. “I’m so sorry. I lost my father when I was about your age. It’s something nobody should ever have to go through, especially a child.”

Smellerbee gave him a soft smile. “Thank you, sir. It was alright in the end. We formed a group called the Freedom Fighters, where we would fight back against the troops in our area and help people who had been hurt by them.”

You were impressed and intrigued, hanging off of every word she said. “That all sounds so exciting!”

She nodded. “It was. For a while, at least. We even got to meet the Avatar at some point.”

You gasped softly, looking up from the boy below you with wide eyes. “The Avatar?”

“Yes,” Longshot answered. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. The Freedom Fighters had become more about revenge than helping the Earth Kingdom. We made a horrible mistake that almost cost the lives of an entire village.”

Seeing the previous awe on your face beginning to sink, Smellerbee quickly interjected, “but we’re not like that anymore. We came to Ba Sing Se for a fresh start to move on from our past mistakes. Unfortunately, Jet had a harder time letting go than we did and got himself arrested for attacking a tea shop worker who he thought was a firebender.”

Your mother frowned, the water underneath her hands continuing to flow over Jet’s chest.

“I had a horrible feeling the Dai Li had something to do with this,” she sighed. Your father gave Smellerbee and Longshot a smile.

“And please know that we don’t judge you for your past. You have all been through so much, and it is completely justified that you feel anger towards the Fire Nation.”

You nodded, the conversation ending there as you began to focus intensely on healing Jet. You could feel the bruises and broken ribs in his chest slowly begin to heal, and his breathing was becoming more and more steady. You were grateful the group had managed to find you and your mother in time before any of his injuries could get any worse. If they had waited any longer, you probably wouldn’t have been able to make this much progress.

About an hour later, you and your mother had managed to heal Jet enough that he would be stable on his own; his chest was still injured, but not lethally, and when he’d eventually wake up, he’d be able to breathe, talk and eat normally.

Your mother grabbed a towel and wiped her hands, smiling softly at Smellerbee and Longshot. “Jet is going to have to stay with us for a few weeks, just to make sure he heals completely. He’s not quite ready to be walking all around Ba Sing Se just yet.”

Smellerbee smiled brightly. “That’s great! How much do we owe you?

Your mother chuckled, shaking her head. “No, no, you don’t need to worry about that. Just worry about taking care of yourselves. Just make sure you visit at least once a week. That should be enough.”

Longshot bowed his head. Though his expression was blank, you could see the grateful glimmer in his eyes.

Smellerbee stood, Longshot doing the same. "Thank you so much. We'll be sure to come back and check on him tomorrow."

Your father walked with them to lead them out of the house and to possibly offer them some food. You looked back at your mother.

"What now?"

She sighed, looking down at Jet with her brow furrowed. "We're just going to have to do regular healing sessions and keep an eye on him until he wakes up. That's the best we can do for now."

You nodded and let your eyes fall on his face yet again, relaxing at the sight of him peacefully sleeping. The pain must have been subdued with your healing. You could finally take a breath and feel good that you had helped a little bit.

You stood and wiped your hands on your clothes, walking towards the door. You needed to eat something, as that healing session was quite draining. Perhaps you still had some good peaches.

You looked back at Jet one last time. He looked quite handsome when he wasn't in pain.

~

The light from the window to the side was practically blinding to Jet, his vision blurry as he tried to open his eyes. It took a while for his vision to focus enough for him to get a good look at where he was. The room was a lot different than what he was accustomed to. The walls were nice, much nicer than what you’d be able to find in the Lower Ring, and there was a landscape painting hung up on the wall directly in front of him. The mat he was lying on was a lot more comfortable than he was used to, and the sheets were made with some high-quality fabric. He had no memory of ever being here before. The last thing he really could remember was excruciating pain in his chest.

Right. He had that fight with Long Feng and had his chest crushed. The Avatar’s friends were there, as well as Smellerbee and Longshot. He must’ve blacked out some time after Aang left because he couldn’t seem to remember anything after that.

He tried to sit up, groaning as he moved his fatigued body for what seemed to be the first time in days. His chest didn’t hurt as bad as he recalled, but it was still very sore. He had to keep his back somewhat straight otherwise it hurt to breathe, not to mention his head was killing him. Overall, Jet was not comfortable in the slightest, and he still had no idea where he was.

When the pain toned down enough for him to be able to think and focus, he tried to observe his surroundings. He had already determined that he was most likely in the Middle or Upper ring, given how nice the interior was. There was a large vase beside his bedding, one he figured was filled with water. Other than that, not much was going on decorating wise.

He looked down at the sheets that covered his chest, hesitantly pulling them down to see the damage Long Feng had done to his chest. He winced. Large purple bruises were scattered across his chest. They weren’t severe, at least not as severe as he was thinking, but there were a lot and they were very sensitive. His mind went back to the feeling of being struck with the rock. It was horrible and it felt like it completely collapsed. The more Jet thought about it, the more it occurred to him that it was only a miracle that he wasn’t dead.

“Oh, great!”

Jet’s eyes immediately darted up to the doorway, just as a stranger walked into the room holding a tray of tea.

You gave him a smile, kneeling beside him and placing the tray down.

“Mother told me you’d be awake by now.”

Your voice was soft and reassuring, but Jet still eyed you with caution.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse from going so long without use.

You took a cup of tea from the tray and handed it to him, smiling.

“You’re in my house Jet. Your friends, Smellerbee and Longshot, brought you in here a few days ago, because you were attacked. My mother and I are healers, so we’ve been taking care of you for a bit.”

He hummed, taking the tea from your hand and watching the steam rise from it. You shifted slightly, moving your feet from under you and crossing your legs.

“I’m sorry if you’re not a fan of jade tea, it was the only kind we had.”

Jet gave you a small smile of reassurance.

“It’s alright. I don’t drink tea often enough to have a favorite anyway.”

He took a sip of it, a sudden insatiable thirst awakening inside him the moment the tea touched his tongue. It had only just occurred to him how long he had gone without water, or food for that matter. He tilted his head back, chugging the tea until there wasn’t a drop left in the cup. He took a deep breath, looking back over at you, suddenly wide awake.

“How long was I out?” he exclaimed, panic in his voice.

“About a few days,” you said, handing him another cup that was on the tray. “And I wouldn’t call it ‘out.’ You were in and out of consciousness all day yesterday. I was able to make you drink a little water here and there, but not a lot.”

By the time you were finished talking, he was already done with his second cup, tea dribbling down his chin.

“Where are Smellerbee and Longshot?” He asked, wiping his face with his wrist.

“I don’t know, to be honest. They never told us where they lived.”

“And where’s your mother?”

You took a pause, pursing your lips together silently. You reached out and gently touched his chest, pushing him back a bit.

“Please lay back down. There’s a lot I have to tell you.”

He hesitated, giving you a questioning look, before slowly laying flat on the bed.

“Can you tell me your name?” he asked.

You gave him a smile and nodded, whispering your name to him as you raised your hands and looked towards the vase in the corner. You began to move them in slow patterns, water bending out of the vase and over to where he lay.

“Move the sheet out of the way so I can begin healing your chest,” you said, clear and stern.

He did as you asked, pulling the sheets out of the way to reveal his bruised abdomen. You smiled and muttered a small thank you, before bending the water over his wounds. The water began to glow dimly and left a cool sensation on Jet’s wounds. He hissed slightly, feeling the water begin to heal his wounds.

“You know,” he said raspily. “I’ve actually met another healer before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… her name was Katara.”

You grinned. “Katara’s a beautiful name. What tribe was she from?”

“She and her brother were from the Southern Water Tribe. She was the only waterbender they had.”

You hummed, recalling what your mother had said about the Southern Water tribe.

“I assumed so. My mother told me that the Fire Nation captured all of the South’s waterbenders. I guess they missed one."

“Must’ve. She was travelling with her brother and the Avatar to the North when I first met her.”

You grinned excitedly, perking up at the mention of the Avatar.

“Your friends mentioned you had a run-in with the Avatar!” you beamed, continuing to heal him. “Tell me, what was he like?"

“He was a great kid. Friendly and always eager to help. He can be a bit naive, but he’s gotten smarter since I last saw him. I’ve run into him two separate times.”

“Weren’t you with him when you got attacked?”

His face fell a bit, his brow furrowing as he averted his eyes from you.

“Yeah. I was helping him find his bison.”

His tone was cold and distant, a total one-eighty from a few moments ago. You bit your lip softly and turned your head towards him.

“How did you get attacked, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He sighed, looking back up at you with a slight smile.

“How much time do you have?”

You grinned.

“All the time in the world.”

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: Waiting For My Mind To Go To Sleep

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up for Caleb having a pretty bad day

Summary: He levers himself up from the little nest he’s made of his arms, his sudden suspicion the only thing keeping him from stumbling over the word. “This does not tickle one bit, by the way.”

“Okay,” Caduceus says. “Did you want it to?”

Caleb can't sleep. Caduceus decides to take matters into his own hands.

Wordcount: 5.3k (SAVE ME)

A/N: so this turned into... something... i think it’s safe to say in general that if you ever feel like Caleb, please take a deep breath and do something nice for yourself <3 

For anyone who's trying to keep track - set after Difficult, with a bit of reference to Staying Warm.

---

Caleb has not possessed a desk in a long time, so it is a shame that he is currently wasting his new one as a place to rest his head while he waits for exhaustion to take him.

He’s counting off the end of twelve minutes, growing increasingly frustrated as the simplicity of the numbers fails to stop his brain from running itself in ragged circles, when slow footsteps sound out from the hallway. “Oh, you’re still up.”

It’s Caduceus. Caleb peels himself off long-dried sheets of spellwork and tries to make himself look a little less like an empty shell of a person. “Ja, I am up, what can I do for you.”

The slight downward tilt to Caduceus’ eyebrows in an otherwise placid expression radiates disappointment. “You said you were going to sleep, earlier.”

Earlier being an hour and forty minutes ago, when Caduceus passed by him with a full teapot on his way to the roof. Strange, given that the kitchen is just next to the staircase and his study is on the opposite side of the house. He sighs and rubs at his face - there is a chance, however slight, that this time pressing at his temples will actually help with the headache even if he deserves the fucking thing for getting them here in the first place. “I am working on ah, a new spell, I am a little distracted.”

It’s not a lie, exactly. Studying is distracting him from sleep, and the cold comfort of possessing a house and certain debt gifted to them by a major political faction of the Kryn dynasty is distracting him from studying, no matter how nice his desk is. The last time his life took such a turn, he was a young man recently arrived in Rexxentrum with his two best friends in the entire world - he can think of many, many good reasons to prise the jaw of this particular gift horse open.

The problem, then, is stopping. Easy enough, when he can turn himself into a bat, but his distracted attempts at study and the resulting failures have removed even that avenue from him today. It is lucky that the Dynasty has yet to ask a new favor from them that would require him to cast.

But then, he has never held much hope for luck - and, oh, Caduceus has moved much nearer at some point.

“I will sleep,” he acquiesces, nodding in the vague direction of a flowing sleeve, and refrains from adding any sort of incriminating time frame. “You should get some rest as well, mein freund.”

Caduceus clears his throat, somewhere miles overhead. “Your arms are going to get sore, if you keep doing that.”

He looks down. Takes a deep breath and lets it out as he pulls his hands away from the scars and lays them flat against the fine wooden grain of the desk. “Thank you.”

That should be the end of it, he thinks, and he can go back to counting miserably, but the smudge of pink in his peripheral vision stays stubbornly present. “Is… is there something else?”

“You know,” Caduceus says with that unruffled serenity of his, “I think I’m going to make some more tea. I’ll bring you a cup, and we’ll sit for a while.”

Caleb winces.

He is fond of Caduceus, very much so, as he is of all his friends. It is just - it is not that he doesn’t know he is terrible, anymore, he has revealed all but the worst of it in Felderwin and their group has decided that his contributions are worth the trouble of associating with him anyway. But Caduceus, who cares so naturally and unselfishly, who operates with a faith in everything around him that Caleb cannot begin to understand - something about his knowing gaze is unsettling, when Caleb cannot tell what he knows or how he is judging him.

The part of him that is tired would welcome a friendly presence to lull him to sleep, instinctively knowing by now that they are safer here than nearly anywhere else in the world. The other part, bitter and exhausted, trusts no one. Least of all himself, when he cannot even think through political machinations.

He’s waited too long to respond - he can feel Caduceus’ gaze now, prickling at the side of his head. “I can bring some of this to the kitchen, if that is where you are going.”

“Oh, I was thinking we could use your bed,” Caduceus says. The visual of Jester waggling her eyebrows suggestively springs to mind, and he bites the inside of his cheek before he can smile. “Why don’t you go lie down, and I’ll be there in a minute with the tea.”

It sounds more like a command, really - Caduceus wanders off, and there’s nothing to do after that but to retreat to his room. He begins the rote process of shucking his boots and socks in deference to the warm night and reaches up for his holsters.

His fingers close around the buckles, and suddenly he is frozen, possibilities of disaster everywhere. It will be safer if they stay on him, even though they are in the middle of a residential neighborhood, he has to keep them close-

He breathes out, slowly, through his nose and strips them off as well. It feels like a punishment, but then, maybe that is how he can stop himself from thinking too much. Not that it has ever worked before, piling discomfort upon discomfort like a stone wall, but if it is what he has to hand at the moment then so be it.

Next, the bed. He takes a step towards the bed, knowing that is where Caduceus will expect to find him - but his mind is still spinning with a dozen different threads, spells and spycraft and a sudden curiosity as to what the Kryn stuff their mattresses with, surely they do not grow hay or cotton here-

He’s still standing there when Caduceus ducks through the doorframe, large fingers wrapped with delicate care around the handles of two mugs, and shuffles one of them forcefully into his hands. “There we go. It’s not too hot, is it?”

He gulps the first sip down inelegantly. It’s the perfect temperature to warm his throat without burning his tongue, as Caduceus’ tea always is, but it feels - wrong, somehow - “Is there something in this?”

Caduceus blinks down at him. “Oh, did some of the tea leaves get through the strainer? I mean, they’re probably pretty tiny if they can do that, but I can try to pick ‘em out if they’re bugging you.”

“Ah - I mean - it tastes-” He pauses, proceeds more delicately. “There is not anything in this meant to put me to sleep?”

Caduceus looks surprised, for a moment, before patient amusement washes over his face - Caleb glances down, awkwardly, and hopes that the gentle steaming of the cup in his hands hides the way his face flushes. “It’s not drugged, if that’s what you’re asking. But with how tired you look, I’m not surprised that’s what it feels like.”

“Oh,” he says. Maybe if he downs the entire thing in one shot, it will do him the mercy of knocking him out here and now anyway.

Suddenly Caduceus’ hands are on his, gently pulling the empty cup away from his fingers and setting it down next to his holsters. “Mind if I sit?”

“No,” Caleb says, and then “Uh-” as Caduceus takes him by the elbow and starts leading him in the direction of the bed. “Wait, what are we doing?”

“C’mere,” Caduceus tells him, easing himself down at the edge of the mattress and folding his legs up beneath him.

He stares stupidly. “Where?”

“On the bed, ideally.” Caduceus says, and tugs him a little closer. “Didn’t seem like you were gonna make it there yourself.”

He should walk around to the other side and lay down there, he knows, but months of travel with these people have ruined him - he sits automatically next to Caduceus and leans into his side as he might if they were stopping for an hour of rest before realizing what he’s done.

He jerks away. “Ah - you meant to lay down, of course, I will just-”

“Nope,” Caduceus says, and promptly snakes his arm around Caleb and pulls him over into his lap.

His back hits Caduceus’ knee with a solid thump - he flounders for a moment, trying to figure out where all his limbs are among the tangle of long firbolg legs, and then he realizes that Caduceus is watching him.

Their eyes meet. Caduceus smiles down at him, seemingly unbothered by the presence of an idiot in his lap. “There, you’re laying down,” he says. “Comfy?”

“Hnnnng,” Caleb whimpers. He rolls over as best he can and buries his face in his arms, unwilling to bear the eye contact - how many more things can he do wrong today?

Caduceus hums thoughtfully.

The next thing he feels is softness as gentle fingers undo his ponytail, combing through the strands, and arrange his hair to lay loosely around him - they smooth the last of it down and start massaging the back of his head, rubbing gently behind his ears.

It is so completely unexpected that it undoes him; he spares a single moment of thankfulness that he’s washed his hair recently and succumbs to the simple bliss. “Oh, Scheisse, that feels good.”

Caduceus’ belly, pressed warm against his side, shakes in quiet amusement. “Thought it might,” he says. “You’re not easy to calm down, are you.”

“No,” Caleb says, honestly regretful. Even as the rush of tingles from having his scalp scratched washes down his back, he still cannot make himself stop thinking - about whether he has manipulated Caduceus into doing this by being too lazy to take himself to bed earlier, about what he can do to return the favor-

“I know you think that I am neglecting myself,” he says finally, groaning a little as Caduceus drags a thumb firmly down the back of his neck. “I know I need to rest so that I can cast, I just - ah - it is tricky-”

Caduceus pauses, rubbing at the edge of his shoulder blade for a moment. “Of course you can take care of yourself.” He punctuates the statement by untwisting Caleb’s spine with a loud crack that leaves him gasping in sudden relief as a good amount of the tension in his back disappears. “Doesn’t hurt to have a little help, though.”

He scratches lightly at the backs of Caleb’s ribs. It’s pleasantly sharp, little pinpricks of sensation rushing up and down, and Caleb squirms happily for a moment into his hands before he realizes.

He levers himself up from the little nest he’s made of his arms, his sudden suspicion the only thing keeping him from stumbling over the word. “This does not tickle one bit, by the way.”

“Okay,” Caduceus says. “Did you want it to?”

Squirming a little more, he bites back the traitorous yes, please that forms on the back of his tongue. “No.”

“Then be good and stay still,” Caduceus says, and keeps scratching.

Caleb huffs and sticks his nose back into the crook of his elbow. “You are very bossy sometimes, you know that?”

He tenses as soon as he says it - there is a reason he keeps these things to himself unless he is talking about Beauregard, who seems to prefer his annoyance to most other things that leave his mouth.

Caduceus just chuckles. “You don’t have any siblings, do you.”

“No,” he says - and then, if only because they have been on his mind of late as he thinks about politics and consequences - “old friends, though, growing up.”

“Shame,” Caduceus hums, hands sliding down to scuff at his sides. “Then I guess you’ve never been in a tickle fight.”

There is the familiar, guilty, sting, thinking of the past - but one more thread of thought could hardly make the tangle any worse, could it? Of course Astrid and Wulf had known he was ticklish, they knew everything about one another. In the beginning, when there was still time for such things, he remembers them abusing the knowledge at times when Ikithon’s clear favoritism rankled a little too much, or, more rarely, to play - it had been much easier, then, to make him smile.

And then Molly, with his infernal grin and equally devilish fingers prodding for every sensitive spot he could find, the teasing - and that night by the fire, just before Hupperdook, his arm blazingly warm around Caleb’s shoulders in the winter chill as he jostled him around and assured him that it was perfectly normal to want such affections.

They are kind memories, even with the bitter regret of his own blame in their ending, and -

Verdammt, his ribs are starting to get sensitive.

He tries to breathe through it, but his lungs are fidgeting as badly as the rest of him would like to, startled and giddy; instead, he presses the edges of his fingernails into his palms and tries to see reason in the dark cradle of his forearms.

This will not help him sleep. He is wasting Caduceus’ time, if he lets this continue. It does not matter what he wants, when he has no right to ask for any of it.

“Caduceus,” he starts. The syllables shiver on his lips, too close to laughter for comfort. He tries again. “Caduceus, I - I am feeling much calmer now-” His heartbeat pounds loudly in his ears. “-if you would let me up-”

“Hey,” Caduceus says. “You got all tense again, stop doing that.”

“I just-” The path of Caduceus’ ministrations drifts over his sides, sending already-tingling nerves into high alert, and he panics. “Let go of me!”

It is the exact worst thing he could say, made worse in the harsh tone in which he spits it - the hands that have been chasing pleasantly up and down his spine still and lift away, the simple action radiating just as much disappointment as Caduceus’ furrowed eyebrows earlier, and his back arches in a miserable attempt to follow them before he can stop himself.

He bites his lip. He needs to apologize. He needs to crawl away and back to his desk like the worm he is, as heavy as Caduceus’ judgment is weighing down on him. He needs to do something other than lie here-

“Well, you don’t look very calm,” Caduceus says mildly. “You okay?”

“I am fine,” Caleb grits out automatically. He cannot be incapable of even the simplest of thought, he cannot-

“Huh.”

One of Caduceus’ hands makes its reappearance, suddenly, at his neck, two fingers slipping along the stubble under his chin to rest on his racing pulse and catch him in his lie.

The other, even more inconveniently, reappears just by the exposed hollow of his left armpit.

Suddenly, he cannot think of anything at all - he jumps and squeaks and curls away as best he can, fighting back the tremulous ah-ah-ah-! of burgeoning laughter that bubbles up behind his teeth as five fingers flutter merrily against the thin cotton of his sleeve.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Caduceus says placidly. He stops moving his fingers, but they just stay there, just barely touching, as if he is daring Caleb to try and crush them under his arm and see what happens.

Things seem very dangerous in a completely different way than they did seconds ago - if he was at peril of sinking, before, the feather-light presence against tender skin makes him feel like he might float away. He holds as still as he can, waiting.

Still, he shivers all the way down to his toes as Caduceus clears his throat. “You know, I have a sister - had? - uh-”

“May have, if you are uncertain,” Caleb says automatically, decades-old Common grammar lessons rushing to the forefront in lieu of any instinct that might actually be useful, and promptly bites his tongue.

“Sure,” Caduceus concedes, and gives his armpit another good tickle. Caleb squeaks again and tries fruitlessly to wrap his arms more tightly around his head. “She’d swear up and down that she wasn’t ticklish too, when she didn’t want to be. Not that it helped her much if you got a hold of her feet.”

Caleb becomes suddenly, horribly aware of his own exposed soles - he is facedown on the bed, his knees will not even bend the right way to let him hide them against the mattress-

Caduceus must catch the involuntary scrunch of his toes - he laughs, low and pleased, and pats him warmly on the back. “I think your ribs were working out just fine, but if you’re curious-”

“I am not.” Caleb says hastily.

Something swoops, low and excited, in his belly.

It really isn’t fair how tall Caduceus is, especially when it means that he can keep one threatening hand pressed to Caleb’s ribs at the same time he reaches for his feet. Caleb, still bundled facedown in his lap, only realizes what is about to happen when he feels a soft, fuzzy palm close around his heel. “Oh - oh, bitte-”

The first pass is a single fingertip, drawing tiny circles on the calloused ball of his foot. It hardly feels like anything at all, and for one foolish moment Caleb lets himself relax.

Then the fingertip drifts down to the softer arch, wriggling into a crease as his foot curls reflexively, and it tickles like a motherfucker.

“No, no, NO,” he yelps, and scrambles blindly through the next few moments -he jabs something solid with his elbow, cool air rushing on his face as he twists and pulls his knees in, but all that is secondary to the rush of relief as he gets something beneath his feet and jams them against it. He squeezes his eyes shut and pants, clutching his chest as if he can will his lungs into proper behavior.

Something knobbly vibrates against his shoulder.

He freezes. “Um.”

It takes a long moment for him to realize that he is, somehow, still in Caduceus’ lap - his shoulder is pressed to homespun cloth and a bony chest, his feet are crowded up against one of Caduceus’ thighs as the rest of him perches on the other.

His seat shakes a little as Caduceus continues to laugh at him. At this point, Caleb can hardly blame him.

Caduceus lets out a long, happy sigh just above where he’s pressed his face back into his hands in blatant embarrassment. “Oh, we’re going to have to hold you down for that, huh.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, like it is a foregone conclusion that someday Caleb will find himself with his ankles pinned and teasing fingers coming for him, helpless to stop them. It’s far too easy to picture, just now, and despite himself anticipatory giggles start to well up in his chest.

Unacceptable - Caleb presses his lips together, burrows as far into his hands as he can and tries fervently to pretend that he is not still well within range of someone capable of doing all of these things. What is wrong with him? Nothing is happening, no one really wants to tickle him, it is not funny-

Caduceus’ fingers, though, are still moving - one hand is dancing over the tops of his feet now, hardly touching, worrying at his ankles and the sparse hair on his toes. It doesn’t even - it shouldn’t tickle, but he can’t stop thinking that it might, or that Caduceus might reach for his ribs again, and he is too tired to redirect his thoughts anymore, he feels halfway to dreaming already, and - “Hnnmm - heeeh -”

His cheeks are already warm from the desperate effort of not laughing, but they burn even brighter as the giggles start flooding out.

Caduceus can surely hear him, for all that he is hiding his face and never intends to reveal it again, and besides that he is squirming, winching his arms to his sides and scrubbing his feet uselessly against the rough fabric of Caduceus’ trousers to try and get away from his fingers without lifting them. “Heheeeh - ahaha - oh, stop, stop, help, I cahahan’t-”

Curling up in a ball doesn’t seem to help at all - a small part of him knows that he’s more or less tickling himself at this point, but all that means is that there’s nothing to get away from as he twitches and begs, no mercy from his own overtired brain, no one to help him get out-

Just as the panic really starts to choke him, something warm and grounding wraps around his shoulders.

He regains just enough awareness to feel Caduceus’ huge palm cradle the side of his head and pull him into his chest. “Shhhh,” he soothes, so low that it rumbles through the both of them. “I’m here, I’ve got you. Breathe, breathe.”

Caleb comes back to himself slowly, like the tide pulling back from the rocky cliffs of Darktow - the exhaustion is still there, burning behind his eyelids, but the thunderous crash of his heart in his ears slows to a steady echo under Caduceus’ touch. He takes in a tentative breath and nearly buckles from relief as it stays in his lungs.

Caduceus murmurs something to himself, pensive. Caleb hears it more through his chest than his ears. “Better?”

He sucks in a few more breaths before he feels calm enough to answer, slumping further against Caduceus and drawing his hands cautiously away from his face. “I am fairly sure that is not how ti- ah, how that is supposed to work,” he says tiredly. “But at least it is over. Caduceus, I am sorry-”

“Oh, I’m still going to tickle you,” Caduceus says, and Caleb nearly starts choking again.

A thousand startled exclamations catch in his throat. “Why,” is the one he gets out, and oh, he does not even begin to know what to do anymore with the excited little twist in his belly at hearing Caduceus’ words.

Gentle fingers take his chin and tilt it up until he can see Caduceus looking back softly back down at him. “You’re not being very nice to yourself, are you.”

That wrenches a rueful little smirk from him. “And why should I be?”

“Don’t do that,” Caduceus admonishes. He doesn’t - frown, exactly, just looks at Caleb more intensely until he has to fight the urge to wriggle himself loose.

“You were disappointed, earlier, when it didn’t tickle, don’t think I didn’t see it.” He tries to shake his head, but Caduceus holds him still. “I saw how you looked when I said we’d have to hold you down later, too - you want me to tickle you, Caleb, so I’m going to. That’s enough.”

Caleb opens his mouth to tell Caduceus that he doesn’t want it, that he has long since accepted that tickling is a happy and childish thing for those who do not have to try all the time to not be terrible, but he can’t quite get the lie out under his steady gaze. “I shouldn’t,” he says instead. “I should sleep, I am just wasting your time.”

Caduceus huffs, cuddling him impossibly closer and rubbing a thumb over his cheek, and Caleb has to close his eyes - he does not know, sometimes, how these people can be so careful with him, so willing to offer affection, unless he has tricked them somehow. He does not know how to repay it, either. It is hard to tell which piece of his ignorance is worse.

“You’re not. We’re going to talk about that, someday, when I’m not trying to put you to bed,” Caduceus tells his eyelids. “But that night after the dragon, a little tickling put you to sleep just fine - and you were doing all right until you decided you were going to be stubborn.”

Caleb has to smile at that, just a bit - Caduceus sounds openly affectionate, if mildly frustrated, and even though he does not deserve that it is a little funny to think that he might be as much of a troublemaker as Jester or Beauregard simply for refusing to sit still in Caduceus’ lap.

Caduceus pokes lightly at the slight round of his cheek. “There, that’s better.”

He loosens his grip, then, letting go of Caleb for just long enough to loop his arm around his chest. Caleb opens his eyes, curious - Caduceus is smiling at him, slow and mischievous, and his elbows automatically twitch halfway to his sides before he realizes that Caduceus’ arm is in the way and blocking him from getting them all the way down.

That tricky, light feeling takes hold of his chest again. “Ah - Caduceus?”

Caduceus adjusts his grip a little and raises his other hand, wiggling his fingers in a way that might be considered thoughtful if they were not pointed distinctly in Caleb’s direction. “Yeah?”

Despite everything, Caleb finds that he is fairly good at reading people when he needs to be. Which means, in this case, that he can tell - Caduceus is trying to make him more ticklish.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop it from working.

He widens his eyes entreatingly. “I was not being stubborn! I - I just panicked-”

“I told you to be good and stay still, didn’t I?” Caduceus’ arm is more than long enough to wrap all the way around his skinny chest, especially without the holsters - his hand curls carefully under Caleb’s arm, and he has to press his lips together tightly to avoid laughing then and there.

“I couldn’t!” he pleads. “You - you were-” He stumbles over the word itself, half hoping Caduceus will interrupt him again - but he doesn’t, just holding him steady. “I was trying,” he finishes lamely, willing himself not to blush and failing entirely.

Caduceus is grinning at him now, through his beard, smug in that gentle way of his. “And I was trying not to rile you up too much.” he muses, “Suppose we’ll just have to tire you out instead, how’s that sound?”

Caleb gapes. Caduceus is the nicest and gentlest of all of them; surely he is not about to trap Caleb in his lap and tickle him until he cries. And surely he should not want it, the traitorous squirmy feeling in his belly up and fluttering like a live thing.

The long, downy fingers of Caduceus’ free hand pluck his shirt loose from where it’s just barely still tucked in and slip underneath to tease at the fuzz of hair on his tummy, and such logical reassurances suddenly lose much of their weight.

“You - you planned this,” he accuses breathlessly. “You did, I didn’t - hm! - even do anything-”

“I mean, I don’t plan a lot of things. Dinner, mostly.” Caduceus prods at his belly button and he jumps, completely off guard for what comes out of Caduceus’ mouth next.

“You’re just really, really ticklish.”

Caleb whines. Just saying it makes every nerve in his body hum with anticipation, now, and when Caduceus pokes his belly button again he’s sensitive enough that he can’t hope to fight back the peal of laughter. “Don’t.”

Caduceus snickers and just keeps poking at the same spot, sending him into a tumble of frantic laughter as he twists this way and that and fails to escape. “Oh, that helped, huh?”

“No, no, oh nohoho-”

The hand holding him in place tickles gently through his shirt at the softness just above his ribs - usually he is protected by layers of leather and paper there, enough to hold off one of Veth’s crossbow bolts, but all he can do now is whimper.

Caduceus’ free hand sneaks up his other side and repeats the process under his shirt, and he shrieks.

“Heh,” Caduceus chuckles, and eases off for a moment. “You gonna be good if I’m not holding on to you?”

Presumably he wants to get his other hand under Caleb’s shirt and torture him even more, but that’s not the reason Caleb reflexively clings to his arm. “No, no, I need-”

He cuts himself off before he can say that he needs Caduceus to hold him, largely because he does not want to admit it even to himself.

Luckily, he does not need to say more. “Okay, I’ve got you,” Caduceus says easily, and squeezes him a little tighter. “Let me know when you’re done, yeah?”

Before Caleb can ask what that means, Caduceus’s fingers spider under his shirt and start kneading, gentle and merciless, at the top of his ribs.

Caleb breaks instantly. He can’t get his arms far enough down to protect himself, can’t hope to get loose - he tries to bite his lip for a moment to stop himself from laughing, flinging his hands back over his face, but all his breath rushes out in a sudden squeal as the first shock of ticklish sensation hits him in full. “Ahahaaaaa - aaa!”

Caduceus tickles one side of his ribs until he’s sobbing and kicking, completely insensible, and then lazily spiders down over his sides and belly and back up to the other side to tease and tickle as he pleases. He tickles up into his armpits, around the soft curve of his tummy, and rubs his thumbs into the bony outcrop of his hips through the pockets in his pants - he goes back and forth, back and forth, until Caleb loses track of time and numbers and which language he’s begging in and can only measure how much air is left in his lungs before he starts wheezing again.

At some point, he can’t hold himself upright any longer - he sinks down against Caduceus’ bracing arm, but it only stretches the skin over his ribs further. He wails.

It goes on until all he can do is gasp and snicker weakly as Caduceus prods his way back up his side, stopping to trace at each ribin turn. His eyes drift shut, at some point. He doesn’t think he’s ever been tickled so badly in his life.

Still, it seems that there is the possibility for it to tickle even worse - Caduceus’ hand finally, finally slips out from under his shirt, and he just manages to gasp out a sigh of relief before it closes gently around his ankle.

His eyes spring open. “Mein Gott, bitte, bitte, not there,” he hiccups. “I’ll die, I’ll die, please!”

Caduceus hums - held upright, he can just see Caduceus’ wrist pinning down the top of his foot as his index finger traces a light, tickly circle around the thin bone of his ankle. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

Caleb grasps for the threads of his thoughts, heedless of confession in the face of being tickled more, but to his surprise there is little left to worry about - even the exhaustion feels far away now, his whole world narrowed to the warmth of being held here.

“Nothing,” he says honestly. He giggles a little as Caduceus’ fingers keep moving. “Ankles, maybe.”

Caduceus laughs aloud at that, letting go of his foot and untangling their arms as he briefly nuzzles his forehead. Caleb’s seen him do it to the others, before, but never to him. He sighs at the warm, fuzzy pressure against his hairline, the light huff of breath that stirs the mess of his hair. It’s nice.

“Alright. Off to bed with you, Mr. Caleb, come on.”

He’s already dreaming, he thinks - Caduceus has to help him over to the pillows, where he flops out and curls contentedly into the blanket tugged over him. Maybe it’s that he can barely move from exhaustion, cheeks still sore from laughter, but the bed has never felt better.

Drifting off, he allows himself to hope foolishly that this might not have to be the last time.

[redowlkitchen]

Does anyone else have an unnecessarily large mug collection where you use most of said mugs for very specific drink purposes?

I have 10 mugs/cups.

My weekday morning mug

My backup weekday morning mug if I forgot to wash the first one the night before

My afternoon mug

My weekend mug

My weekend teacup for when I’m feeling fancy. (It’s bone china!)

My teacup for use with my teapot

My evening mug for hot cocoa or similar drinks

My Christmas mug which supersedes all of the above specifications for the month of December

The last two don’t have any official use which probably means I should say goodbye to them, but they were gifts and I like them... 

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes - Chapter 1

Read on AO3 here

Prompt:  “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

Ron was still huffing grumpily as he stepped forward and pushed the door of their flat open for Hermione, so she wouldn’t have to adjust Teddy in her arms. His gracious show of chivalry clashed hilariously with the sour look on his face.

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione laughed, shaking her head at him, “One would really assume you’d be used to it by now.”

“I have gotten used to it!” he said defensively. “I keep getting used to it, over and over, but then they just keep getting worse! If you want to snog your girlfriend, snog your girlfriend, if you want to talk with your best mate, talk with your best mate, but it’s downright rude to try to do both at the same time. But was there a single moment today where they weren’t draped all over each other? No! I don’t even want to think about what their hands might have been doing under the table. I mean, shit… ”

“Ron!” Hermioned hissed harshly, quickly covering Teddy’s ears.

But it was too late. “What’s shit?” the three-year-old asked innocently. Hermione shot Ron a murderous glare.

“I’ve told you Ron, for once in your life, watch what comes out of your mouth! Teddy is at a stage in his development where he’s very observant and curious.”

“What’s curious?” asked Teddy.

“That just means you’re growing up to be the most clever boy in the world!” Hermione told the toddler sweetly. She lifted up his shirt and blew him a raspberry, causing him to erupt into giggles. She put him down and he ran off to sit on the sitting room rug and start playing with the toys they had brought out before taking him today.

Ron was still grumpy as he plopped down on the sofa and watched Teddy absentmindedly. In hindsight, Hermione saw that she should have given him some time to cool off between ending their double lunch date with Harry and Ginny and picking Teddy up from Andromeda, to give her a night off to spend with other adults unencumbered. But if they had delayed at all, Harry would have jumped at the chance and taken Teddy himself. He was always using his role of godfather to indulge his martyr complex, but Hermione had steadfastly reminded him that Ginny was off for the first time in weeks after the intense conclusion to the Quidditch season, and she deserved to have her boyfriend all to herself.

Hermione sighed as she sat next to her fiancé on the sofa, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You have to remember, Ron, that Harry is still learning how physical affection works. He grew up without anyone ever touching him except to control him or hurt him. It’s called being touch-starved, it’s a real phenomenon in psychology. It’s understandable if he over-corrects in the other direction and doesn’t understand that public displays of affection come with boundaries.

She turned her head to look at him kindly, but found him giving her a deadpan frown.

“Seriously, Hermione? Not everything is related to something you read in a book once but somehow remember years later. This has nothing to do with Harry’s Tragic Backstory, they get more and more handsy because they know that it drives me up the wall, they’re just fucking with me.”

“What’s fucking?” asked Teddy.

“Sorr— Ow!” Ron helped as Hermione elbowed him hard in the side.

“Behave yourself,” she told him. “And don’t sell Harry short, that is not why he does it.”

She settled back into leaning against him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“....That is absolutely why Ginny does it, though,” she added, making Ron snort with laughter.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, content to just watch Teddy play with small smiles on their faces.

“Thanks for volunteering us to take him,” Ron said softly into Hermione’s ear. “Having him around, this time of the year….it helps.”

Hermione nodded somberly. “I know what you mean.” The next day was May 2nd. Three years to the day since the Battle of Hogwarts.

Hermione sniffed as she felt all-too familiar tears threatening to break free again. “Being around someone so young, someone who won’t ever remember how bad things had gotten, who would only know the new world we fought for. It reminds us that none of them died in vain.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed quietly. “I think the rest of the family feels the same way, they always get super clingy with Vic this time of the year. Me too, I’ll admit.”

“Oh yes, I’ve definitely noticed that,” Hermione nodded. “Even more so than with Teddy, since she’s a Weasley. She represents your family’s survival and healing, I suppose.”

Hermione chuckled at something she remembered. “The worst of them all is your mother. She’s really been cranking the doting up for Victoire, and between you and me, it’s driving Fleur absolutely mad.”

Ron sat up a bit to face her, smiling mischievously at the gossip. “Oh yeah?”

Hermione nodded and smiled back. “She won’t say anything until she figures out a way to phrase it passive-aggressively instead of bluntly, but Fleur is clearly feeling smothered by the pressure of being the mother of the only grandchild.”

Ron’s smile faltered a bit, and the same grumpy mood he had when they returned home seemed to return.

“Well, she probably shouldn’t worry,” he grumbled. “If my best mate and my sister keep being as insufferable as they are, it’s only a matter of time before Harry’s knocking Ginny up—”

“Ron!” Hermione growled angrily, shooting Teddy a sideways glance, but fortunately he seemed too busy playing with his toy dragons. She breathed a sigh of relief, then started giggling.

“What on Earth makes you assume that?” she asked him incredulously.

“Hermione, if they can’t control themselves in the middle of a sodding café, what makes you think they can when alone in their flat?”

Hermione snuggled back up to him, pouting her lip playfully. “Well if that’s the case, why them and not us? I’d like to think that we’re similarly…. out of control at times…” she slowly brought a hand to rub up his thigh. Then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed dangerously, she stood up, and put her hands on her hips.

“Unless you’re saying that you’re just not as attracted to me as Harry is to Ginny?”

Ron just raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’re trying to trap me because you think I’m adorable when I’m nervous, but you have to be less transparent than that, love.”

“Shoot, it was worth a try,” laughed Hermione, sitting back down.

“You know that I meant that you would never allow that to happen,” pulling her close again. “You can’t even make noncommittal plans for drinks in a pub without triple-checking your schedule and giving it a color-coded entry in your planner, there’s no way you’d ever let something as important as…. that just slip your mind. But you know how reckless those two are, is it really hard to believe they would neglect the Contraception Charm once?”

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. “No, I really don’t think so. There are some things that Harry and Ginny do take seriously, one of them is family, they wouldn’t be blasé about it. And don’t be so disgustingly modest,” she said, lightly swatting his leg. “I am not always meticulous, you know damn well you’re capable of turning me into a scatterbrained piece of goo.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel Ron grinning proudly at that.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured in her ear, and Hermione felt goosebumps erupt on her neck. He pulled her closer and Hermione felt herself blush scarlet as he whispered all sorts of things he planned to do to her to prove her right.

“What’s knickers?” asked Teddy, who apparently had very good hearing. Hermione blushed harder than ever as she elbowed her fiancé again.

It was after dark when Ron and Hermione finally stepped through the fireplace of the Burrow. They could hear the large, loud gathering in the kitchen before they saw it. They found Andromeda talking and laughing happily in the kitchen with Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, George, and Charlie, all drinking either tea, firewhiskey, or some combination of both. But as pleasant as the evening had been, she still beamed when she saw her grandson running towards her.

“He wasn’t too much trouble, was he?” she asked apologetically as she scooped the toddler into her lap.

“He was a delight!” said Hermione cheerfully.

“Yeah, this kid stuff is easy!” said Ron dismissively. “And yes, that’s a git thing to say, feel free to saddle us with him until I regret it.”

Andromeda laughed and thanked them again. After Ron and Hermione returned home through the fireplace, Teddy rested his head on Andromeda’s shoulder. He was clearly very tired and was starting to get fussy.

“Well,” Andromeda sighed, “I guess I should get this one home. Thank you so much for having me, all of you.”

But then, Teddy spoke up in a sleepy voice.

“Grammy, what’s knocking up?”

There was a loud crash as Molly dropped the teapot onto the kitchen floor. Fleur gasped dramatically, Bill coughed and sputtered on his firewhiskey, while George just erupted into laughter.

Andromeda pulled the boy off her shoulder and looked at him sternly. “Edward Remus Lupin, where did you hear that?” she asked.

“Oh, I believe we know where” Molly growled as she flicked her wand to levitate the shrapnel on the floor and started to reassemble it into a teapot, “I honestly don’t know where these sons of mine got such foul mouths. I have half a mind to go after Ronald and remind him that he’s not too old for me to wash his mouth out with soap. I am so sorry, Andi.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Andromeda. “Harry can swear just as well as any Weasley.”

She addressed Teddy again, more gently this time. “Go on, Teddy, where did you hear those words?”

“Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

The kitchen of the Burrow had never before fallen so quickly, completely silent. The only sound was another crash as Molly dropped the teapot again.

[johaerys-writes]

Where Blood Roses Bloom

Fandom: Castlevania

Pairings: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha, Hector/Lenore

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula's castle to seek Alucard's help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires' court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 8: Safe is up! The trio return to the castle after their brief encounter with the night-creatures in the woods, and have some much needed quiet time. Plenty of introspection, angst, hurt/comfort, Alucard POV :)

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

“I prepared a bath,” Sypha says with a small, awkward smile as soon as Adrian steps into his room. “I figured you would need it.”

He stands at the threshold of his study, blinking into the interior. In the time it took for him and Belmont to return to the castle, Sypha lit up the fire in the hearth, dragged one of the copper tubs in his room and filled it with warm water; she even put some order to his chaos, placed his books back in their proper place, tidied his desk, folded his blankets. It... almost feels like home again.

It is still odd, though, to see her in his space; it has been so long since anyone has stepped foot in any place he called his very own. It should have felt like an invasion, but it doesn’t. He is surprised by how much he welcomes her presence there, considering how things were left between them before he stormed out of the castle.

“You and Trevor took your time getting here. I should probably reheat this,” she says, and her gaze glides discreetly straight past him and to the tub of water, which waits for him by the fire. "Unless you have a preference for lukewarm to cold baths?”

Adrian lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Belmont's horse had been so spooked by the night-creatures, that it took almost an hour for them to find it, trudging through the snow. With Belmont stopping every so often to catch his breath, Adrian was surprised they even managed to get back at all. At length, they found the poor animal hiding behind a small thicket, close to a lake nearby. Even when they climbed into the saddle, the horse was jittery and restless, and Adrian would have turned into a wolf and ran to the castle on his own four legs if he hadn't thought it would have unsettled the beast even more.

Besides, riding two-saddle with Belmont wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as he would have once thought. The warmth of his chest, pressed up against his back, was more than welcome against the bitter cold he had had to endure that past day, and his arms resting at either side of him as he held the reins felt… good. Comforting. Infuriatingly so.

Not that Adrian would ever admit that to him outright, but still.  

Sypha flicks her fingers, and instantly there is steam rising from the water, giving off the sweet scent of herbal soap. It smells faintly like her, Adrian realises, and something warm spreads within him at the thought that she used her own soap to prepare his bath. Sypha gives him a last smile as she turns to leave. “I’ll come back to bring you some tea. Or would you perhaps like some time alone…?”

“Tea sounds wonderful,” Adrian replies, and is surprised by how readily the words fly out of his mouth. “Thank you, Sypha.”

Her smile widens, and there is a flicker of understanding, but also of expectation in her eyes. Her gaze has none of the hurt or confusion it did last time she had seen him, none of the shock and fear. That alone is more comforting that Adrian can express.

“Alright then,” she says quietly, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue. “I’ll be back soon. I'd better go check on our perpetual patient first.” The door closes softly behind her, and Adrian is on his own.

With mechanical movements, he pulls off his boots, removes his clothes. A small blanket of snow, muddle and pine needles is gathered around his feet as he undresses. He doesn’t even bother folding them, leaving them on the floor next to the tub instead; they’re all covered in so much blood and dirt that he hardly make out the colour of the fabric anyway.

The warm, soapy water is slightly on the scalding hot side, but Adrian doesn’t hesitate a moment before lowering himself in it. It embraces his body swiftly and the many cuts and scrapes on his arms and legs sting. Adrian leans back against the sturdy copper of the tub and lets the water seep into his sore and tired muscles and take away the ache, the cold, the numbness. He rests his head on the rim of the tub and closes his eyes with a sigh.

The past couple of days drift behind his tightly closed eyelids, before he can stop them. His duel with Belmont, their ill-timed kiss, the dinner he and Sypha prepared for him, their argument. Himself running away, the castle and the forest disappearing behind him in a blur. He doesn't remember that many details after this, nothing concrete; only himself running for miles and miles until his limbs were numb and his lungs were on fire. Even when he could run no more, though, when he was so far away from the castle that he couldn’t even see its tall and sharp peaks, he remembers the ache in his heart being exactly the same, as if he’d never taken a step away.

They’re always within him, those memories, that hollowness, that pain. No matter how fast he runs, how far, they're always there. The voices in his head that tell him that he’s meant to be alone, that he's always been different, that he doesn't belong. All of his life, even since he has any sort of recollection of himself, he remembers feeling adrift, with neither foot planted firmly on the ground beneath him. Half human and half vampire; a part of both worlds, and accepted by neither. His father, after he had lost his mind, had tried to kill him because he thought him too human, soft and weak, with a human heart and human sensibilities; Sumi and Taka had tried to kill him because he wasn’t human enough, because to them he was a ruthless, heartless monster, same as the ones they’d come to know.

As if there really is any difference between vampires and humans in how monstrous they can be.

Adrian has seen enough of the world to know that anyone’s a monster to someone. He is a monster in the world of humans, and a monster in the world of vampires; an oddity and a stranger in both. If there is no place for him in this world, then where is he supposed to be? What is he supposed to be?

If you’re a monster, then so am I.

Belmont’s words ring in his ears. Adrian grips the edges of the copper tub tightly, until his knuckles go white. He presses his eyes shut, trying to ignore the shock he had felt at that moment, but also the affection that swells within him and that he can no longer deny. It rises in his chest, shy like an early spring bud on cold and frosty ground, even as he tries to push it down. It reminds him of the earnestness in Belmont’s gaze as he said it, the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his presence, and it makes him wonder if, maybe, just maybe, there is hope for Adrian yet.

And if that isn’t the cruelest thing that Belmont has ever done to him.

So lost is he in his thoughts, that he doesn’t even hear Sypha as she enters the room. Her footsteps are quiet and her voice soft when she says his name, the teapot and fine china rattling on her tray. The sweet aroma of herbal tea fills the room.  

“I brought you tea. Would you like some?”

Adrian has no strength to respond to her. It feels like it has all been drained out of him the moment he stopped running, as if his resolve simply crumbled the minute he stopped resisting.

“Alucard,” she says again, and Adrian doesn’t quite know why that name, from her lips, tears at him. She cautiously steps closer, and set the tray on the low coffee table. She extends her hand gingerly to touch his shoulder, but he recoils with a sharp intake of breath. A look of hurt flashes over her features.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, and that too, sends a stab of pain through him. “Would you like me to leave?”

Adrian takes a deep, slow breath to calm his rapidly beating heart, then shakes his head silently. He doesn’t want to be alone, but he doesn’t want to look at her either. He’s not sure what he’ll see there, this time.

“Would you like to talk?” Sypha asks, and again Adrian shakes his head. She gazes around the room, her eyes falling on a low stool. Carefully, she picks it up and brings it close to the tub. “I’ll sit here and keep you company, then. Is that alright?”

His silence is enough of an answer. She sits there, quietly for a time, gazing out of the window while he stares at the water in his bath. It’s starting to get cold, but a flick of Sypha’s wrist and it’s comfortably warm again. Adrian hugs himself tightly, pulling his knees up to his chest. He doesn’t quite know what to tell her; it’s awkward, sitting with her like this, but at the same time talking feels like an impossible task right now. His throat is raw and his heart is heavy, and there's so many thoughts swivelling in his mind that he wouldn't know where to start, even if he tried.

Still, he doesn’t want her to leave. That, he knows well enough. Her presence is comforting, the scent of her skin and of her herbal soap drifting around him, and she is humming an old song under her breath, like the ones his mother used to sing once. It helps fill the void a little.

“Do you want me to wash the blood off you?” she asks softly, a while after they’ve both been sitting there in silence.

Blood. Right. Adrian’s hands are still covered in it; it’s both Belmont’s and the night creatures’, and perhaps a little bit of his own, too. He has done nothing all the time he’s been in the tub, other than dejectedly sit in the water. He listens as Sypha stands up and looks around the room, then comes back with what must be a washcloth.

“I’m going to touch you now,” she says. “Is that alright?”

Adrian nods guardedly, but he still flinches a little when he feels her hands on him. She pauses and withdraws.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, with patience. Adrian swallows thickly, embarrassment rising within him with every moment that passes. Her apologies somehow make him feel even worse. He wonders if she’ll really get up and leave this time, but at the same time he has no energy to speak or to comfort her. He simply waits, eyes fixed on the water, hugging himself tighter still.

Sypha tries again, more slowly and gently this time, and this time Adrian doesn’t flinch quite as much. She carefully brushes the cloth over his hands and forearms, turns his wrists this way and that, carefully cleaning the blood and grime away. The warm cloth feels rough against his skin, and it stings just a little when she wipes the blood of the scratches the night creatures managed on him, but Sypha’s touch is gentle, even tender. She is careful not to linger too long on any of his scars, to brush the cloth over them as lightly as possible, as if afraid they’re still hurting him. And in a way, they are.

It feels like an eternity has passed since anyone has touched him for so prolonged a time. It reminds him of the last time someone touched his bare skin like this, a night that is etched in his memory with blood and fire and sharpened steel, and he trembles. He tries to remind himself that he is safe now, that Sypha has been nothing but patient with him all the while she’s been here and has never physically harmed him, that he can still protect himself if need be, if bad comes to worse.

He trembles all the same.

“Would you like me to stop?” she asks, her voice but the barest whisper murmured between them. “One word, and I’ll stop, Alucard. I’ll leave you be.”

Adrian closes his eyes and breathes slowly. He gives his head a slow, steady shake. He feels so strange like this, naked and vulnerable and exposed. He doesn't appreciate being seen in this state, but he finds Sypha’s touch almost tolerable. More than that, he knows the absence of it will leave him feeling... empty.

So he takes a deep breath and lets her clean his arms, his shoulders, his chest, lets her wash his hair. Her fingers are gentle and delicate when they thread through his locks and massage his scalp, working up a lather. She touches him like he’s fragile, easily breakable, like his skin is made of paper and his bones of glass. A part of Adrian knows that this sort of tenderness is unnecessary; that kindness such as this often pushes the hurt and loathing deeper instead of washing it away. Still, he is grateful. He’s grateful for her patience, grateful for her care, and he leans into it even as a part of him rebels against it, begs to run away again.

Adrian loses track of how long they stay like this, with him soaking in the water and Sypha’s hands on his skin, his scars; her gentle humming in his ears. At length, she starts talking to him in low and mellow tones, without expecting any answer. She speaks of the books she has found in the library, of the many spells she's managed to unearth, but it isn't long before her descriptions of spells and scrolls devolve into tales and legends of ages past and long forgotten. Snow is falling gently beyond the window, fluffy snowflakes tapping the glass, and Sypha is telling him a story of a water nymph in a far away land, up to the North, that fell in love with a hunter, and saved him from certain death when he fell in a frozen lake in the depths of winter. The nymph heard his cries and pulled him out of the water, Sypha says, then dragged him to a cave, and almost scalded herself when she tried to light a fire, so that he wouldn’t freeze. She nursed the hunter to health, and stayed with him until he gained full consciousness, even though it was getting harder for her every day, being away from the safety of her cold waters.

Adrian doesn’t know why this story tugs at him so viscerally. He listens attentively while she speaks, afraid to miss a single word.

“It is true, then,” he says quietly, when she almost reaches the end of her tale, speaking more to himself rather than to her. “The things we cherish the most often do us… the most harm.”

Sypha’s fingers stop their careful ministrations for a moment. Adrian thinks he can hear a soft smile in her voice when she whispers, “Certain things are worth fighting for, even if they hurt sometimes.”

Adrian says nothing to that. He just glances up at her, golden eyes meeting crystal blue. “What happened to the nymph?” he asks, and his heart beats with a strange sort of expectation.

Her smile widens, and she tilts her head to the side so that the light from the fire paints her fair skin amber. “They fell in love and lived happily ever after. The nymph in her lake, and the hunter in the cabin he built close by to be with her.”

Adrian huffs a quiet laugh at the gentle triumph that flashes in her eyes. “Do all your stories have a happy ending?”

“No,” she says, pouring fresh water over his hair to wash the soap away, “but this one does.” Her voice becomes softer when she whispers, “At least I hope it does.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[futurewriter2000]

Hearless - pt. 11

A/N: I know I’m late to post this but I’ve been so exhausted from my morning shifts. I genuenly hate morning shifts because I am not a morning person and days pass so quickly. One minute I’m asleep, the next I’m awake at work. Anyways, this is a bit “normal” part- it’s like an intro to a good ass part. Hope you like it. 

*Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's findings. A person who practises this art is known as a Legilimens. *

XX

You couldn’t decide which shirt to put on for breakfast. If you came down in a T-shirt, then they will ask questions but wearing a sweater in summer isn’t the brightest cover up to come up with. 

“I can just say I’m cold... or something...” you mumbled to yourself as you tugged the sleeves down your hands and bit your lower lip. 

‘I just won’t tell them.’ you told yourself. ‘Just remember what he said to you. Mum and dad already know, so they won’t be a problem but James? He can be such a prick when it comes to my private things.’

---

You walked down the stairs and found Sirius chewing his sandwich toast as he kept reading on the newspapers. “Morning.” he said as he chewed, keeping his eyes on the paper. 

“Morning, Sirius.” you smiled, walking into the kitchen and grabbing yourself a cup to make some coffee. 

It was a simple process every morning; boil water, add sugar, add coffee, pour into the cup, add milk. - And when you have done all of those things, you smiled to yourself at the scent of the wonderful home-made coffee and sat behind the table.

You looked up and saw him staring with one of his eyebrows quirked up. “What?”

“Are you in a sweater?” 

“And here comes yet another marvelous observation, Sherlock Holmes.” you leaned forward, teasing as he rolled back his eyes far back to his head. “Oh yummy.” you reached for his other half of sandwich as he slapped your hand away.

“AH-OI!” he looked at you, all considering serious. “Excuse me, get your own sandwich, lady.”

“Lady?” you scoffed with a laugh. “You owe me, prick. You ate my donuts last time!” you reached again but he took a hold of your wrist and narrowed his eyes at you. “You. Owe. Me.” you narrowed your eyes as well, challenging him into a silent battle of the glares. 

He looked away and let go off your wrist. “Fine.” he threw your wrist away and you gave him a triumphant smirk as your hand reached for the sandwich. “I would have given it to you if you asked nicely, though.” he shrugged, taking another bite.

“Since when do we do nice, Sirius?” you smiled, taking in the bit as he laughed.

“That is awfully sad but true.” he said, letting his smile fade as he swallowed the last peace of food in his mouth. He brushed off his palms and leaned back- then back forward to lean on his elbows as he fumbled with his thumbs. He looked at you.... concern this time. “You should have used my sweater to hide the scars, (y/n). The one I gave you that night with the frog sock. It’s nicely thin, breathable for your skin.” he stood up and grabbed his plate to the sink, grabbing a sponge and opening the water. 

You sat there, stopped to chew and continue to eat. That last bite was hard to swallow when somebody like Sirius told you something like this. You turned your head over your shoulder and looked at him with wide eyes, almost wanting to scream what had happened to you. 

Odd.. this feeling of wanting to confide into somebody about all the things you told yourself you would never in life confide to anybody. 

You stood up and grabbed your coffee mug to the sink, leaning on the counter next to him. 

He stopped washing the dishes, his heartbeat raising as he slowly looked up at you. You crossed your arms over your chest and let your hand travel to his cheek. Your thumb brushed across his cheek as his eyes sent you a flash of desire. 

He blinked a few times, to bring himself back from your touch, shaking his head and scrubbing the plate. “Uh... your boyfriend came over a few nights ago. He gave James a letter to give it to you.” 

You let your hand fall back to your chest, hugging your arms. “Yeah.” you smiled, walking back to the table. “I got it.” you pulled your heels on the edge of your chair and hugged them both. “He was going back to France. Said he would be back after graduation- the last summer before he packs up his things and moves there.” you trailed off, staring at the morning sun. 

“Moves there?” Sirius came back to the table, wiping off his hands with his cloth. 

“Yeah. He decided to live in France, since he was in school most of his life.”

“And you?” he asked, leaning on the chair and staring  at you with intense blazing eyes. 

“What about me?” you gave him a soft smile.

“Will you move in with him?” 

“No.” you laughed. “He wanted me to but I told him we already broke up, so it was useless going back together and moving across the world to France. I don’t even know the language, though I do know some words.” you let out a soft giggle that made Sirius stiffen up. 

He shook himself off jealousy. “You two broke up?” he sat back down. 

“Yeah. That “first date”- was me telling him we kissed and he was so pissed at me from cheating on him that he broke up with me before storming away.” 

“Why would you tell him?” 

You shot your head to him in wonder. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I mean, the two of you would still be together. I wouldn’t tell.”

“I didn’t want to be together with somebody when I kissed you, Sirius.” you furrowed your eyebrows at him as he continued to stare with no expression. “Relationship is about trust and loyalty... and truth. I told him because he deserved to know.”

“But it was just a kiss.” 

You let out a soft laugh, standing up and walking to the sink. You grabbed a glass from the cabinet and turned on the pipe. “It wasn’t just a kiss to me.” you mumbled, knowing fair well he had heard you clearer than ever. 

Your whole chest was burning from the fire your heart caused. It was painfully quiet and it was that same pain that made your eyes focus on the cold water flowing from the pipe.

“I’M COMING IN SO IF YOU TWO ARE SNOGGING PLEASE STOP!” James shouted as he covered his eyes with his hands and walked blindly into the kitchen and peeping through his fingers to see if it was safely innocent for his eyes. “Oh, thank God. Morning.”

“Really, James.” you smiled, walking past him to sit back to the table. 

“Might as well make the two of you suffer for that.” he grabbed himself a cup and a teapot, bringing it to the table. “Why are you wearing a sweater? It’s boiling here.”

“Cuz I enjoy sweaters. It’s Britain, James. It’ll get cold sooner or later.” you hugged yourself and continued to watch him sit down and take a sip of his tea. “Plus, mum and dad went on some errands. Said they’d be back soon.” 

“Yeah, I know. Dad left me a note on the desk- oh that reminds me.” he turned to Sirius. “He also said we’d have to go get something into town tonight before five. Said it’s urgent and well, who else to trust with urgent things then his eldest son.” James puffed out his chest and winked. 

“Pompous brother?” you rolled your eyes as he continued to play his child-like smile on his lips.

“That I am not afraid to admit.”

“Good thing-”

“Blimey!” your father apparated into the room with a few bags in his hands and looked up at his three children.”Morning, you three.” he said as he trotted to the kitchen and placed down some of the bags. “Your dear old mother will never let me come home in less than two bags.” he started to unpack the groceries.

“Hey dad, you’re early.” you said as your father looked over his shoulder and smiled at you.

“I know. Got things done earlier. Your mother, however, ran into that- what’s her name again- Mina?” 

“Nina?”

“Yes, her. Her mother and obviously they hopped their way into the tea land.”

“I bet they’re talking about sexy men from Cuba.” James started to tease, making both of you and Sirius laugh. “Nina’s mum is probably telling mum about the man who would be perfect for her.”

“Oh, James, my dear boy.” he walked back to him, tapping his shoulder. “If you ever want that new broom of yours, you’ll be smart enough to shut your mouth.” 

“Gee dad. It’s only jokes.” James lifted his hands in defeat and sent Sirius a wink. 

“This is for you, deary. Just like you said.” your father trotted to you and placed down two large books. “These two were the most recommended.”

“Thanks dad, you took the books and opened the first one.”

Sirius and James exchanged glances, both furrowing their eyebrows like two identical set of twins. “What is this?”

“Books.”

“Bravo, Sherlock.”  Sirius looked at you, giving you an amusing smile before you sent him a smile of your own. He reached for one book in your hands and tore it away as James grabbed the second one and started flipping through it. 

“Legilimency”” Sirius felt more confused then ever.

“Dreams interpretation?”  James was right behind him.

“Haven’t you told them yet?” your father said from the kitchen.

“Told us what?” James asked.

“I had the weirdest dreams last night.” you rubbed your eyes and looked at both of them. “Like there was Remus in them-”

“Oh, Pads, watch out-” James started to tease meanwhile both you and Sirius rolled your eyes in sync.

“Shut up, James.” you cut in. “It was so odd though- like I was a deer and I had a mouse on my head- like a massive fat mouse.” you started to show with your hands the size of your hands as Sirius and James started to process your words, growing more nervous than ever. “And then there was a big black dog in front of me- really ugly looking.”

“Excuse me?!” Sirius exclaimed, widening his eyes before feeling a slap of James’ hand on top of his mouth. He sent James a glare and James gave him back an apologetic look. 

You drew your eyebrows together and gave them a suspicious look. They were acting odder than usual. “Anyhow...” you trailed off, trying to go back to your dreams. “That dog turned into you-” you gestured to Sirius, giving him a teasing smile. “Which explains the ugliness.”

“And then I’m the rude one- really James? You call me the rudest out of here?” Sirius gave James another glare as James laughed nervously. 

“And you looked at me and said if we throw Worm into the lake and let him change in mid air so he can do a canon ball... or something???” you laughed, burying your head into your palms and looking back up at their crooked smiles. 

“Hahahaha!” James forced a laugh. “Worm... Why would- why would- uh, we- uh call a rat worm? Hahahha!” 

“I think... she said mouse, James.” Sirius corrected him.

“MOUSE! Yeah... mouse... that. Not rat... mouse on a stag...”

“I said deer.”

“Well they’re both the same thing..” James started to get a bit offended. 

“Then if I would be a deer, I’d be a doe, not a stag.”

James pursed his lips together and breathed hard through the nose. “Alright... doe then. It still doesn’t explain the books.”

“Doesn’t it though?” you stood up to get the books from both of their grasp, which was lot easier despite they were...well, James and Sirius.  “I’m looking for a meaning.”

“The dog might be an omen?” your father sat beside you, wiping his hands with a cloth. “Like a ghost, perhaps. I mean, don’t you call Sirius Padfoot, James?” he looked at James as James and Sirius looked at each other with wide eyes. “ In Lancashire they call the black dog many things. From Grim to Padfoot and since Sirius was the one who turned into-”

“WOW DAD!” James boomed throughout the room, clapping his hands and standing up. “That’s a great history lecture but me and Paddy here will go to get ourselves ready for that...uh.... urgent thing you gave us.” he sent both of you finger guns and pulled Sirius to his feet. “Let’s go... Sirius.” he pushed him forward, out of the room, up the stairs and into their room. He locked the door behind him.

James turned to Sirius, who was running his hands through his hair nervously. James waved his hands at him, as if he was screaming at Sirius but in reality only came out in loud whispers. “HOW DOES SHE-”

“DID YOU TELL HER?”

“OF COURSE I DID NOT TELL HER! DID YOU TELL HER?!”

“NO I DID NOT TELL HER!”

“You sure?!”

“Why would I tell her!?!”

“I don’t know, maybe because you fancy her!”

“Prongs, will you stop mentioning that! I didn’t tell her!”

“Then who did-”

“It’s your memory, Prongs! You told her!”

“...” James stood there quiet, like a linden statue, staring at his best friend as his brain tried to process it. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. “OH MY GOD-” he started to punch Sirius from the realiasation. “WHAT IF IT’S A TWIN THING! OH MY- DO YOU THINK WE’RE TELEPATHIC!”

“James...”

“MATE! Mate.. mate..” James smiled broadly at his best friend. “How cool would it be if we are actually those twins that can telepathically communicate-”

“James...”

James slapped his hand on his mouth. “Oh- what if she’s listening to me right now.”

“JAMES!” Sirius took James’ shoulders and shook him. “Calm down, for crying out loud. You’re not telepathic. I think she is- sort of.” he shrugged as James kept watching him. “I think she’s a Legilimen.”

[the-river-person]

Renaissance

“YOU’RE ACTING VERY ODDLY, SANS.” Noted Papyrus one morning when he bumped into his brother on his way to the stairs. Sans wasn’t really ready for the day, his pajamas rumpled and his eyes sleepy, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. What was strange was the fact that he was carrying a basket full of dirty laundry and was on his way to put them in the wash. If it had been the first and only time, Papyrus might have hugged him with joy and thanked the Angel for miracles. But that had happened over a week ago and Sans had since done this and other chores without prompting several more times. Blinking up at him with an expression that very clearly said that he wasn’t really all awake, Sans tried to grin. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get some clean clothes, is that so weird?” “YES,” said Papyrus. “ YOU LEFT A SOCK ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR FOR OVER A MONTH, PROBABLY LONGER WITH THE RESETS IF WE’RE BEING HONEST.“ That encouraged a snicker from Sans. “It’s still there actually.” “I’M WELL AWARE. BUT DON’T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT! YOU’VE BEEN ALARMINGLY ACTIVE FOR YOU AND I INTEND TO FIND OUT WHY.” Sans gave him a thumbs up and a wink and Papyrus glared at him before stalking down the stairs, his head tilted up to give an air of disdain towards his brother, who laughed. Breakfast was an interesting affair. The Egg and Cheese Breakfast Muffins that Papyrus had made were pretty enough to look at, though entirely inedible. He’d found the recipe in a book at the dump and had been attempting to recreate the dish. The only real reason this batch hadn’t gone quite right was because they’d gone rock solid at some point during the baking. Still, he’d also made some bacon, so they’d eaten that. There was much less of a restriction on food nowadays. Normally food was collected and sold through the vendors with a stock being held in reserve in case the fields stopped producing or the garbage stopped flowing. But since the world would reset every few weeks the reserves weren’t kept as big and more foods were allowed through. Some monsters, like Papyrus, were taking advantage of the excess to experiment more with various dishes. Sans had to admit that his brother’s cooking skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and only rarely ended with something they couldn’t actually eat.

Everyone’s lives had been severely rattled by the recent events. Sans hadn’t realized how much would have to change in their new circumstances. With no need to spend time and effort farming or collecting food and resources to maintain their lives, many Monsters had turned to entertainment. At first Mettaton’s tv show boomed with success as the only real official source of digital entertainment the Underground had to offer. But it was only two Resets into their new lives that the first alternatives had begun popping up all over. Amateur musicians began uploading videos of songs to the Undernet, either of their own composition or covers of existing songs like the “Angel’s Prayer” that children were fond of singing. Not all of them were spectacular, but they got the enthusiasm, praise, and encouragement of everyone in the Underground anyway. Not a single video went unseen, and several more were created because some Monsters were inspired by what they’d seen and heard. The Spiders who lived in Hotland put on a televised performance of Web Swinging crossed with Ballet where they performed “Coppélia” to the absolute delight of all their viewers. Even the Queen, seemingly returned from death overnight and the cause of much initial confusion and fright in the populace, made a concerted effort to aid Monsters in reforming their lives in some constructive way despite the lack of work. She founded a school where all those who wished to learn were invited, regardless of their age, and various Monsters were invited to come lecture or teach all kinds of subjects to whoever wanted to learn them. Since no school building could be made that would stay past the Resets, they made do with hundreds of tents upon the crystal starlit fields of the Grand Cavern. Both Papyrus and Sans had signed up for some of these. Toriel’s baking classes were fun and there were often treats to be sampled afterward, including her famous Snail Pie. Though Papyrus would groan in feigned agony as Sans and Toriel shot pun after pun back and forth at one another while working, he didn’t really seem to mind all that much and occasionally would contribute a pun of his own, though Sans could never quite tell if it was intentional or not. Old Seam it seemed had decided to participate in the fun as well. Though he’d been a soldier in the wars and now ran a little shop in New Home, he seemed thrilled to totter his way all the way down to the School in order to teach magic tricks. Young Monsters sat wide eyed with astonishment as the old Cat-Monster made lights appear and vanish, caused rubber balls to pop endlessly from his mouth only to turn into wisps of smoke when he dropped them one by one into a glass of water, or make his wheezy laughing voice come from various objects such as Queen Toriel’s teapot or a desk or someone’s stack of books. Everybody loved the tricks and spent a great deal of time trying to learn how to do them, with limited success. Toriel only stepped in once in order to stop Monster Kid from doing his own version of one of Seam’s best tricks, which involved sawing a volunteer in half and having their lower half walk around a stage before somehow putting them back together. Wherever you looked, Monsters were creating and innovating, finding new ways to create a working life. When the world Reset itself, they’d start new projects, continued practicing hobbies, set up tents or made temporary stages for performances or meetings. Games were played, songs written, and some particularly industrious people still found ways to put themselves to work. Through it all, Sans was beginning to feel more and more like he was being cornered. Monsters talked, and many of them wanted justice for the Resets and the loss of any chance to escape from the Underground. Others weren’t sure it mattered anymore as long as the human continued their duty of Resetting, or thought maybe the human should stay hidden in the Ruins even as they Reset the world every few weeks. Whispers mentioned the Judge. Surely the Judge would know what to do? Surely surely the Judge could tell them what was right?

He hated it. With each passing day the idea of having to tell the truth about his position inched closer and closer to reality. Even as the Queen avoided him outside the structured time of their classes, and Alphys grew obsessed with perfecting the Solution so she could undo her terrible mistake, Sans found himself finding ways to stay busy, to keep moving. If he never paused for too long he wouldn’t have to think too hard about his role. Wouldn’t have to wonder how he was going to live up to their expectations. The Royal Judge wasn’t supposed to be a public duty, it was something secret, private. The Judge was an ordinary monster for a reason, someone who could judge even the King or Queen fairly if it came to it. Now... He wasn’t sure he could judge fairly, not after everything. And while the whole Underground waited for his decision. No, he didn’t want it. But there wasn’t going to be much choice. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could just fly away in a rocket ship to mars and never look back, Sans occupied himself by helping Mettaton with a class about Acting Methods. Specifically he was supposed to come in and try to sell a Hot Dog to Mettaton while the other reacted in various ways depending on the character being portrayed. It was silly, and watching the robot prance around and loudly proclaim his own virtues to his audience was kind of fun. It was like everything was still normal. Even though the world had changed and it felt like nothing could be the same, there were still things that wouldn’t change.

[lysissisyl]

6 months

To @patricia-von-arundel, who is the most wonderful woman in this world and the love of my life. Thank you for changing everything. 💜

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Byleth was late. Byleth was never late. It was part of her mercenary training: timing is vital for a mercenary.

Edelgard also knew her schedule and she was always in her study at that time of the day, so why wasn’t she, today of all days? She was sitting at the table, the teapot in the middle, pastries on an elaborated tray. It had taken her 5 attempts to manage to brew tea the way Byleth did; not Bergamot this time, a rare, exotic green tea that Byleth had been looking for for a while. She really hoped she had made it right... At least she knew the pastries were good. She had spent a week practicing, burned a ton (when they actually reached the oven), made a mess balancing the ingredients more times than she could count. She probably fed all the fauna in Enbar, rats included. Damn! She threw away and distributed so many of her disasters to the animals there that one day she had found a rat waiting outside of the kitchens! She couldn’t help a yelp and had Hubert running in, his hands wrapped in dark magic, ready to fight a monster probably. He had almost pulverized the small beast. He would have if she hadn’t stopped him. She hated the damn rats, but she had seen the tiny mice waiting under a bush nearby and realized that bold critter was trying to feed its family. Thinking about family made her soft. Silly. She had taken an half burned cookie from the bag, cut it into pieces and thrown it to the rat. Then she had shut the door as fast as she could, hands shaking. Stupid. But the cookies were perfect today. So was the tea, as far as she could tell. The teapot and teacups were matching and matched the colors of the glaze: a mix of red and blue that reminded her of them. Everything was where it was supposed to be, except for Byleth. She stood up and started pacing; she went back and forth, from the table to the window, three times, then three more, to check the gardens, but also to be able to think. She looked at her own reflection in the glass. She wasn’t wearing her regalia; in its place, a much more simple attire, more practical, something that would have been comfortable enough for basically anything, fishing included. Long, stretchy, black riding pants, a jacket with golden buttons and red trimmings, a white blouse with golden embroideries barely visible under it. The high boots completed the unusual look. Her long, white hair was loose, with only the two familiar ribbons adorning it. It looked a bit different from her Garreg Mach days, a little bit more savage, perhaps, free to move when she did, occasionally forcing her to brush them aside from her eyes; it often leant on her shoulders, caressing her cheeks. She found it unnerving, but Byleth found it cute. Only six month...and she looked so different. It wasn’t just her outfit - that was just for the day - or the absence of the crown. Her posture wasn’t as tense, her eyes were still sharp, but not as angry, and the faint smile that curved her lips when she thought that it was all because of Byleth was natural and sweet. She still had bad days, she still felt overwhelmed by all the responsibilities, by how demanding her routine could be, sometimes she still felt exhausted in the evening. She still had nightmares from time to time. Not everything was perfect as the tea table set behind her, but...Byleth was there on the bad days as she was on the bright ones, reminding her everything was going to be alright. When she felt overwhelmed, she took her hand, made her take a break, let her rest her head on her shoulder and told her stories, beautiful stories and dreams. She told her about how they were making them true. When she woke up shaking from a nightmare, she could hide in her arms, listening to her heart beat until hers stopped screaming and running. The reason her shoulders and back weren’t stiff today was that Byleth had massaged them gently yesterday, washing all the tension from the day away before going to bed. She had taken that habit after seeing her in pain. Edelgard had protested more than once, but they were both stubborn and, in the end, she had realized that Byleth loved feeling her melt under her touch. She sighed at the thought: she could almost feel it... Hearing the door brought her back to reality. She blushed realizing Byleth had chosen that exact moment to come in. She shook her head to chase away that thought that still made her shiver. Even being late, her timing sure was perfect. She let out a very different sigh.

Byleth looked at the table, then at Edelgard, a warm smile making her eyes shine in a way that was getting more and more common. Edelgard had to fight the instinct to run to her and kiss her until the tea got cold. She gestured for her to sit and went back to her chair, pouring some tea for them both before doing the same. Byleth kept observing her every move, a faint smile still on her face. “Thank you, El.” “There is no reason to thank me. At least try the tea first: I don’t have your expertise.” Edelgard stared while she took a sip, almost holding her breath. Byleth  widened her eyes in surprise. “You found it! Oh, El...” Her eyes were so hard to read now, but also so warm... “it’s perfect, just perfect.” Edelgard was suddenly aware of how rigidly she was sitting. She let go. “I want to make today perfect.” “You always want to make things perfect, El.” Byleth teased. “This is different.” She was sulking just a bit, then her voice grew softer. “Today is special.” “Is it?” “Do you remember what happened six months ago?” “We won the war. Is it why we’re celebrating?” Edelgard sighed, playing with her ring with her other hand. Byleth could be so oblivious sometimes! It didn’t hurt her. She knew her well, she knew she loved her. She was just...Byleth. “It’s been six months since the day you gave me this ring, the day I knew you wanted to stay, you were choosing me...” she hesitated “forever.” Byleth tilted her head. “Why do people care about this kind of things? I love you every day, I feel lucky every day I spend by your side. Why should today be different?” Edelgard giggled. That was so very Byleth and so sweet. She didn’t care at all that she forgot about their anniversary: she just wanted to look that beautiful woman in the eyes, tell her what a gift she was and kiss the crumbs off her lips. Speaking of crumbs, Byleth was staring at the other half of a cookie in her hand. “This is peculiar.” “In what sense?” She tried to hide the worried note in her voice. “They’re different from any I’ve found around here. Very rich on cinnamon. Are the cookies exotic too?” Edelgard paled. “Is something wrong with them?” “No, not at all. I actually like them a lot. I want to know where I can find them.” Edelgard’s cheeks turned a delightful red. “I...m-made them.” “That’s great! That sure makes it easy to get more!” She looked like a happy kid. Edelgard’s smile was smug and wide. “You can have them anytime, my love.”

After finishing their tea, it was time for the next step. Edelgard had thought about that day a lot, about what Byleth would have loved, but, in the end, she had realized Byleth was still learning that herself, so the best gift she could offer her was probably a day to just improvise and discover things together. No planning for once. “I cleared my schedule for today.  As I said, I want to make this day perfect for you, so...make a wish, make all the wishes you can think of. We can do anything. Today, I’ll be the one following you.” “No plans, no organizing, no schedules, nothing?”  Byleth raised an eyebrow, teasing again. “Don’t make me regret it!” “I promise you won’t.” The smirk on her face made her wonder which troubles she had just gotten herself into.”

To Edelgard’s surprised, Byleth’s first request was to go to town for some shopping. Even stranger, she came back with an elegant pair of trousers a formal jacket and a blouse, an outfit that looked like a fancier version of what Edelgard was wearing. She sure appreciated seeing it on Byleth. She tried not to stare. And failed. Byleth giggled.

Their second stop was at a flower shop. Byleth went in alone and came out with some roses and a carnation plant in a vase. She offered it to Edelgard with a smile. “I thought you could like a plant for your study or we could keep it in our room. I prefer plants to flowers. Flowers die. This plant is something we can keep and nourish. And I want to give you life.” The look on Edelgard’s face went from confusion, to surprise, to endearment. The way Byleth thought sure was weird, but so was hers and they could understand  each other amazingly well. She had appreciated and cherished all the flowers Byleth had given her in their monastery days, but she knew she would have loved this plant a hundred times more. She loved how Byleth had started questioning things, reading them in a completely different wa now that her emotions were so much stronger. She wondered how hard and exciting everything could be to her. That was part of why she had structured the day like that, after all: she wanted Byleth to express herself.

Byleth’s third request surprised her in a different way. She asked to go by the river, right south from Embar, to the cove where it met the see. She hadn’t been there in years, so many years... Walking there with Byleth felt so nostalgic and so different at the same time… She could feel her hand in hers, holding gently, but firmly. She could feel the warmth of her skin and the marks left by the sword. Familiar. Reassuring. She had run to the cove many times in the past, wild and excited, but it was another time, another life, another El. Walking there like this felt a bit like going back, a bit like going on. She turned toward Byleth. “Have I ever told you about where my love for the opera comes from?” Byleth shook her head. “One of my older sisters was very fond of the opera. I was still too young to be brought to the theater and definitely too young to properly understand it, so were most of my brothers. One day we teased her a little too much about her daydreams and ended up making her cry, so later we wanted to surprise her, to make up for it. We asked our oldest brother; he tried to explain us what an opera play was at his best and we went to the cove and tried to set up a show for her. She was so happy and we had so much fun that we decided to make it a small ritual between us. We did it every time one of us was down or when we wanted to celebrate something. It was a way to tell each other ‘I love you’. I started to grow pretty fond of it myself. One day, my sister took us girls apart and told us our father was concerned about our future, that she could see it, that he had told her; she believed she was going to be engaged soon and that we would have followed. She was a very romantic young girl, always reading some love story or daydreaming about her future husband. She asked us to celebrate the day of her engagement with one of our plays, one inspired by the cheesy stories she liked. I said I wanted an adventurous tale for mine, full of swords and mighty fights. She told us we could all choose one, that that could be another little siblings rituals. When she told the boys, they all made faces, but they all agreed in the end. It was very silly. It was the week before I was taken to Faerghus.” She stopped, staring into the distance for a few seconds, then shook her head again. “Sorry, I rambled.” Byleth smiled. “The story of the heroic imperial princess who fought terrible monsters and saved the innocents, uh?” She glared at her. “Don’t laugh at me!” She didn’t sound truly irritated. “I’m not. Actually...that’s more or less what happened.” Edelgard’s eyes met hers. “Don’t laugh at me.” She sounded sad and bitter. “I am not. You changed everything, El.”

There was a strict passage between high rocks to cross before reaching the shore. It looked smaller now, tighter. Edelgard sure didn’t mind walking pressed against Byleth. Once they crossed it and got to the other side, she froze. There was a stage on the sand, not made of old boards and branches found on the shore, a real one. The curtains were fancy and velvety, not white sheets and colorful blankets stolen from the palace. (How many times had the servants yelled at them?) There was a huge blanket on the sand in front of the stage, with a full dinner for two displayed on it. Hubert was standing at its right. He bowed and gestured them to sit. Byleth nodded. “Thank you, Hubert.” He showed them a small grin in response. “Anything for Lady Edelgard.” Edelgard shifted her focus from one to the other, then gave Byleth a questioning look. “You hadn’t told me about that story, not until today. But...Hubert did, a few weeks ago. He was there too.” She explained. “When I told him I wanted to organize something special for you and that I was thinking about bringing you here and to the opera right after, he told me about the past. He wanted me to be aware and careful. I thought about something else.” “You...” but the curtain opened. To Edelgard’s surprise, it was Dorothea appearing on the scene. She hadn’t properly been back to the company after the war, but she still liked to perform from time to time, as a hobby now. She had convinced the Mittelfrank company to do her a favor that day. Manuela had written the script. For a while, Edelgard wondered why her former classmate wasn’t playing the main part, the emperor's part, then remembered her own words, years ago, when she had said that no story about her would have been complete without a Dorothea. The fact that she wanted to strangle both her and Byleth for making a play about her was soon forgotten, except for when Dorothea sang that song from their Garreg Mach days again. ‘Hail the mighty Edelgard...’ The mighty Edelgard was as red as her regalia. Byleth made a comment about it being a shame that she wasn’t wearing it, that earned her a very cute glare.

At the end of the play, Edelgard was at a loss for words. When Dorothea approached them and Byleth handed her the roses, she wanted to say thanks, but all that came out was “Why?” “Byleth contacted me around a month ago, telling me about her crazy plan for your anniversary, so I pulled some strings. She also helped me setting things up this morning, before Hubert could get here without raising suspicions.” She winked. That’s why she was late... Then another thought crossed Edelgard's mind, making her frown. “Anniversary?” Her eyes moved from Dorothea to Byleth. “You were wondering why people actually cared about it earlier.” Byleth grinned. “I was. And I still believe what I said. I love you every day. I feel lucky to be with you every day. Anniversaries aren’t different. But...why would I miss a chance to make you smile?” She smirked. “You liar!” Edelgard was only half-pretending to sulk. Byleth greened. “I didn’t lie. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” It looked like deceiving could be vital for a mercenary too.

[sxvxrxssnape]

Small Mercies In Poisoned Teacups

Snapetober 2020: Day 3 - Torture a much softer take at the prompt

"Explain yourself."

"I, I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Severus closed his eyes. He dug two fingers into his temple, trying to ward off the headache that was sure to come if he had to continue this conversation for any longer. He took a quiet deep breath and reminded himself that he couldn't accuse Potter of stealing from him without any real proof. 

"You were the last one out of the classroom." Severus finally spoke, opening his eyes and staring at the green-eyed Gryffindor in front of him. 

"Is that a crime?" 

Severus scowled. "Specifically, you were coming out of my potion stores when I reentered my classroom, Potter."

Potter didn't say anything, merely looked defiant. Fifth year potions had just ended and Severus had been distracted at the door by a question from one of his Slytherins and when he'd turned around to ensure the room was empty so he could lock up, he spotted the fifteen year old slipping out of the supply cabinet. He didn't bother to take stock, he knew whatever the brat had taken would be small enough to miss; he wouldn't make the same mistakes he had during second year, when he had stolen a noticeable amount of supplies to brew polyjuice in secret. 

Instead, he had cornered the boy before he could leave the dungeons corridor altogether. 

"I didn't take anything, if that's what you're accusing me off." Potter muttered, gripping his bag a little too tightly. 

"No?" Severus asked gently, completely derailing Potter's defensiveness with his sudden softness. He wanted answers and he knew just how to get them. "Come with me, Potter."

He led the boy back towards the classroom, back into the potions store. He gestured around the shelves lined with unlabeled phials and jars, at the collection of ingredients. 

"I suppose I should be impressed if you had managed to steal from me." Severus mused, watching him carefully. "I would be surprised if you paid enough attention to know what half of these potions even are, let alone what they do. I don't label, you see, to dissuade halfwitted children from stealing from me.  The half that do understand are usually intelligent enough to just ask. It's a pity you aren't."

"I didn't think you'd have much sympathy for me, sir." Potter muttered darkly, his voice so quiet Severus wasn't sure it was meant to be audible. Harry was staring intently at a small collection of glass bottles with mismatched labels half-scrubbed away. 

"What makes you say that?" Severus asked, keeping his voice flat and neutral. He probably wouldn't have much sympathy truthfully, didn't have much to spare with everything he had to take care of this year. Still, as he stared at the bottles filled with Essence of Dittany, a strange sort of cold feeling washed over him. It was probably nothing - children get hurt all the time. It was the preference to steal than go to the hospital wing that forced his uneasiness. 

Harry shrugged. 

"What, pray tell, do you need the Essence of Dittany for?" Severus finally asked, masking the uneasiness with annoyance. He noticed the boy flinch in response. "Were you so arrogant to think I wouldn't figure it out? Mr. Potter, your tells are so obvious, you wouldn't fool a lemming." 

He muttered under his breath. 

"Speak up, Potter."

"I cut my hand, is all." Harry repeated and the angry defiance in his tone had returned. 

Severus held back a sigh and led them out of the storage room. He pointed to a chair and waited until the boy had sat down until he spoke. "Then why not just go to the infirmary? Surely a boy of your status would prefer to bask in the attention of Madame Pomfrey than myself?" 

"It's really not worth going to the infirmary over."

"Then why steal in the first place?"

Harry scowled. "Madame Pomfrey would make too big of a deal out of it and it would only make things worse. I can handle it on my own, thanks."

"Handle what?" Severus was only growing more puzzled, but he wouldn't let that derail him. He could tell something was absolutely wrong with the situation in front of him and he was determined to figure it out before he punished the boy for having the audacity to steal from him yet again. 

He remained silent. 

"Don't make me threaten you with veritaserum."

"How original." Harry scowled and then paused. He looked up at the potions master with curiosity. "Actually sir, I do have a question: how difficult is it to get your hands on veritaserum?" 

"Quite." Severus answered, studying him carefully. "It's regulated by the Ministry. Unless you know how to make it, of course, but it's also difficult to brew."

Harry nodded. "So if a professor were to use it on their students, they would have to get it from the Ministry….or you?" 

"What are you getting at, Potter."

"Nothing really."

"The Ministry would never sanction the distribution of veritaserum to a professor. Any potion they are in possession of and wish to use, can only be used within a courtroom." Severus decided to answer, inferencing the reason for the question. "If a wizard - professor or not - wanted it for petty use, they would have to contact a willing potioneer for it."

"I suppose any teacher here could just ask you for it, then.”

"They could. They would also have to trust that the veritaserum they were given wasn't just a phial of distilled water, wouldn't they?" Severus asked indifferently. 

Harry's eyes widened the tiniest bit, but he didn't say anything.. Good. There was plausible deniability that way; he had never outright said he'd given Dolores fake veritaserum when she had banged his office door open last week, but who's to say what really happened?

He eyed Harry carefully and figured they had built enough of a rapport to continue. "Essence of Dittany." he reminded the boy. 

"I told you, I just cut my hand."

"Let me see, then." Severus directed as snippets of memory from past years rose up. His job of keeping the boy alive was made unnecessarily difficult by his insistence of constantly getting into trouble. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if "just a cut" meant "I lost a limb" for the boy. 

Again, Harry scowled, but this time he pulled back the sleeve of his robe and presented the back of his hand to Severus. 

He blinked.

The back of Potter's hand was red and slightly swollen, streaked with wet crimson from where the fabric of his sleeve had been dragged over the still bleeding corners of the words carved into the skin. The cuts were deep and angry-looking and sure to scar over.

I must not tell lies. 

He reached a tentative hand, acutely aware of the flinch he received, and studied the wound closer. It was days old, but it was also fresh at the same time. 

"Essence of Dittany was a good choice." he finally spoke up. 

"It was Hermione's idea."

Severus nodded, trying to keep his composure but he could feel the anger coiling in his stomach. He could also feel the hum of Dark magic radiating from the wound. Simple healing spells would be useless here, but he doubted Miss Granger hadn't already tried that before suggesting the Dittany. "How did this happen?" he asked needlessly. 

He knew the work of a blood quill when he saw it.

Harry took his hand back, pulled the sleeve down until the ugly words were hidden from sight again. "Umbridge had me do lines for my detention," he shrugged casually, as if admitting to a professor torturing him was no big deal, "and she insisted I use a special quill of hers."

Severus' lips thinned. "And you told no one."

"I just told you.”

This time, he couldn't hold back the sigh of exasperation. "How long has this been going on?" 

"Three days now." Harry answered. "I have her again tonight. I can handle it."

The anger was only increasing. “You shouldn’t have to handle it.” he gritted out. “You understand this is beyond unacceptable? This isn’t punishment, Potter, it’s torture.” He forced a breath. “Go, go to, to wherever you’re supposed to be right now.” He paused. “You have detention with me tonight now, conveniently at the same time you’re supposed to be meeting with Umbridge.”

“Oh, uh, yes sir.”

“Leave.”

He managed to keep himself composed just long enough for the Gryffindor to flee out of the room. He left the classroom as well and entered his private lab, seething. He would have to tell Minerva of this development, Dumbledore as well, but that could wait for a few hours. First, he needed to calm down before they accused him of caring for the brat. 

He was only taking his duty at ensuring the safety and wellbeing of his students seriously. It just happened to include Potter directly, this time, but isn’t that what he’s been doing since day one? So maybe he had gotten the brat out of Dolores’ inhumane detention for the night and maybe now he was distraction brewing while he thought all of the deadly potions he wished he could slip into her morning cup of tea. 

That didn’t mean anything.

It also didn’t mean anything that he summoned a house elf when he finished the nonlethal amber brew and handed over the indistinct vial. It didn’t mean anything at all if it happened to slip into Dolores’ teapot the next morning.

Besides, it wouldn’t kill her. 

Unlike her, he had some sense of ethics. If it kept her too sick to leave the hospital wing for the week that followed, well, what were small mercies for students he didn’t care for. 

---

A/N: the original piece for day 3 felt better suited for a different prompt day so i wrote this instead (late yes) and took a lot of creative liberty with the prompt bc i didnt want to write it, i wanted to write snape & harry interacting :(

also trying to fit entire stories in a singular scene is weird and HARD. i need to write the whole thing and thats why every take ive had an these prompts get scrapped bc i realize i cant write it without devoting like a week to it

[starsfic]

The Ghosts of Fiery Cloud Manor, Chapter 8: Deals

Summary: Xiaotian and Red discuss terms.

AO3

-_-

The manor had a very nice dining room.

   Xiaotian hadn’t gotten around to cleaning it, but he had admired it on his self-guided tour around the manor. Beautiful traces of gold paint broke the dark red the walls were painted in. The dining table, made of dark wood, looked like it could comfortably sit eighty people, which was a surprise given his first guess had been forty. It was also somehow magically clean, lit by red lanterns, and brimming with a feast.

   A feast he most likely couldn’t trust.

   Still, that wasn’t the biggest surprise. What was the fact that Xiaotian had walked through the ballroom doors and into the dining room when, last he checked, the dining room was on the other side of the manor. He stopped and stared.

   “Uh...did you guys move the dining room?”

   “No,” Jin said with a shrug.

   “The rooms always move around, you just haven’t been able to see it.” Yin explained more.

   “Oh.” Well, that was unsettling. So before tonight, the entire manor could’ve shifted and he wouldn’t have noticed a thing. But  with the staff, he was able to see it. What would happen if it happened when Spindrax was here? He was a terrible liar and while Xiaojiao was slightly better, he had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long.

   But maybe it happened at night? A quiet breeze from outside blew as he moved past some of the screens, painted with the images of purple bulls, and he thought he heard whispering. Who knew how many of Red’s subjects came to eavesdrop?

   Speaking of Red, he had settled at the head of the table in a chair that definitely didn’t look like part of this dining set. It looked more like a throne than the rest of the stools. There was a smug smirk on his face as he made a gesture and the stool at the other end drew itself out. With the angle, Xiaotian would be craning his neck to meet the demon’s eyes.

   Yeah, no.

   Making eye contact with him, Xiaotian pushed in the chair and instead headed to where Red was seating. He pulled out the stool right next to the throne and sat down, close enough that their knees were touching. When he looked up, Red looked bewildered. Given his position and how long it had apparently been, Xiaotian was willing to guess it’d been a while since someone invaded his personal space. Feeling a touch guilty, he stuffed the bracelets in his bag and put it aside in the next seat, keeping the staff slung over his legs. When that was done, he tried to give Red a friendly smile.

   “Hi, neighbor.”

   The demon blinked. “Hello.” he finally said.

   “So, this magically clean table,” Xiaotian gestured to the table. “Should I be crying over all the wasted hours of manual labor-”

   “It’s temporary!” Yin called out.

   Xiaotian nodded because that was good to know. If it turned out he had actually been wasting time, he probably would’ve broken into tears. “That...that’s good to know.” This was awkward. He awkwardly picked at his hand, not sure of what else to do.

   “Do you want something to eat?”

   Ah, there was the question. “I’m feeling a bit peckish, but I’ll wait till I’m somewhere where I can eat the food without being poisoned or being kidnapped to another dimension.” There was a squeak from one of the twins, followed by a hiss to shut up. He pretended that he didn’t feel Red’s glare.

   “You’re very well-informed.”

   “Not by anyone in the village.” Xiaotian was quick to explain. “Just...common sense.”

   Red made some kind of noise that he was willing to guess was an admittance of his point. “I can’t kidnap you with food unless you choose to. Force would be useless, by the rules of our prison.”

   Prison. Once again, that word. “Well, then.” Xiaotian said, pushing aside his questions to focus on the current task. “There should be a rule that you can’t coerce anyone into eating kidnapper food.” His smile grew at the frustrated growl.

   “You’re asking a great deal from me.”

   “I just want to protect myself and my friends.”

   “I want to protect my court as well.”

   “And kidnapping me was involved how…?”

   Red waved his hand and in a burst of flames, the feast vanished to be replaced by a steaming teapot and two cups. “You’re working for the mortal the Monkey King’s courting.” He gestured to the tea set and Xiaotian shook his head. He shrugged in acceptance and poured himself a cup. When he drained it, Yin refilled it. “Stealing you would’ve been payback aimed at Sun Wukong.”

   He had so many questions for Tang. “Yes, but again, since I had no idea that I was working for Sun Wukong’s boyfriend and he had no idea that you’re here, it would’ve been impossible to know it was payback. Let’s skip over that.” Xiaotian tried to pull on a serious face. “I would like your permission to stay. Will you grant it?”

   “To what end?”

   Good point. Tang had made it sound like he was thinking about turning this place into a museum and he couldn’t see that going smoothly. Thousands of mortals coming in and out? He very much doubted Red would be amused by that. “I think we should revisit that later. Say, late August?”

Red paused, the serious royal expression being replaced by confusion. "...what?"

"For now, safe passage, in exchange for catching you up on all you missed." Xiaotian nodded to his phone. "Like passwords. And batteries." The twins turned dark- blushing? "Honestly, for now I’d just like to be able to tidy up the place without worrying about you turning up to ask if something smells like chloroform to me.”

“Smells like what?”

"Pop culture reference, don't worry." He did have things greater to worry about. "I can catch you up on that and other stuff."

"Like passwords?" Jin asked.

Xiaotian decided to take pity. "It's...a code that opens the phone." He racked his brain for a comparison. "Like a key. That, right now, only I know."

The twins gasped and Red scoffed. "Trifles." Then suddenly he was in his face, looming over him. His eyes seemed to have a gentle glow. His voice was a gentle purr, washing over his mind, as he spoke. "You could have more than trifles."

Xiaotian blinked, trying to snap his brain to life. "Like trust?"

The fogginess over his mind receded as Red leaned back. At that moment, he looked nothing like a demon royal.

He looked like a boy. A cute one.

"Although, that might be a bit much," Xiaotian said with a sad shake of his head. Under his clothing, bruises tingled. Trust was the only thing he didn't seem to have. "Let's aim for understanding."

"Understanding." Red repeated.

"Take the summer to see if you want mortals in the manor on a more permanent basis."

"How generous."

Be serious. “And in exchange I’ll do what I can to catch you up on what’s been happening in my world.  Music, food, history.  Whatever you want to know.”

He took a moment to consider that before asking, “The food’s changed?” Xiaotian nodded and Red huffed. “It is not just my consideration you want,” he reminded her.  “Free reign to move through my property, safe passage - ”

"For me and mine." He paused to consider. "It's too late for Xiaojiao but I would prefer if Spindrax doesn't find out. Or Tang." At the mention of the scholar, Red tensed. “Regardless, the protection I negotiate for myself would also apply to them.”

Red considered him. Xiaotian refused to blink.

"I accept." Red held out his hand, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Including the food rule?"

His smile vanished. "Yes." he ground out, sounding very unpleased.

"No kidnapping, no-"

"Will you just shake my hand?!" Red's hair lit up. Xiaotian reached out, feeling the claws prick against his skin, and shook. The flames died. "We'll revisit the terms in August." Red said before pulling away.

"Thank you." he breathed, giving a respectful nod as he folded his hands in his lap.

Xiaotian's hand tingled with warmth.

[cecilyneville]

the spanish princess ep 3 the margaret and mary show:

i feel like charlotte hope is trying to aim for a claire foy-esque performance - taut jaw, wide eyes - but while claire is able to say so much with a single blink, charlotte just...yeah ok you know what i’m getting at here, there’s no point in saying it any more.

why would catherine call wolsey “chaplain”? that was his position, not his title, and honestly by 1513/14 (idk what year we’re supposed to be in) i don’t think that was his position anymore (ok he got the promotion later this episode. i still think calling him “chaplain” is dumb)

“am i being punished?” yes catherine, you are! emma frost has made this perfectly clear!

god, i just hate her so much. i can hardly even look at her. yes i’m being mean but also i’m right

“you only get one first time catherine” LOOOOOL

honestly at this point we are one episode away from henry putting a bag over his head lord snowden style

what is this bullshit about henry guaranteeing margaret’s regency? it was laid out in james’ will jesus christ you can’t even give me this

angus physically picking up james v? love me some (probably unintentional) foreshadowing, also as to his anglophilia

the scots are barbarians who can’t help brawling in council! give me strength

lina and oveido named their kids thomas and BARNABY??? 

the writers room being like “what’s the most english name we can give this kid” / “uhhh idk how about the name of the guy from midsomer murders”

catherine saying “i am [a] better [politician than wolsey]” IS THIS A COMEDY

WHY DOES BRANDON CALL MARY HORSE I HATE THIS

emma frost wants us to be mad at henry when he tells catherine off but he’s 100% right and she deserves it

MEG ASKING CATHERINE FOR ADVICE? HATE IT LOL

tsp denied me a hot angus and i won’t forgive them (the guy who’s playing him is a good actor, but i feel as if he’s playing angus too nice)

“have you had any more dreams?” meg he just wants to know if you dream of sexytimes with him lol

“everything good comes out of england” oh they are laying it on THICK with the angus anglophilia

angus showing up next episode in a union jack t-shirt and a teapot shaped like the tardis like some superwholock fan from 2013

oviedo in the background just like “fuuuuck catherine lol”

“before i came to england i was told the english never washed” / “it is a little true, i HATE bathing” - ok this was actually really funny, mostly thanks to sai bennett’s delivery

STOP MAKING ANGUS NICE, WHERE ARE THE FUCKBOI ENERGIES

look i know this letter/monologue is supposed to highlight catherine’s grief but fucking hell shut up, meg’s busy trying to rule scotland she doesn’t need your whining

meg: catherine help me / catherine: MY LIFE IS SO HARD WAAAHHH

i know i’m asking for too much but it would have been nice to see joan guildford attend mary, but women over like 40 don’t exist at the tsp version of the tudor court and if they do they’re evil

STOP CALLING HER HORSE IT IS SOOO CRINGEY

why is he calling her that? is it supposed to be a pun on mary/mare? they would be so cute if it wasn’t for this 

the people of edinburgh are about to riot, but unfortunately they could only afford to put like 20 people in the scene

i can’t stress enough how much i deserved a hot angus

this speech is stupid but i love georgie. also it would have been better if the crowd had joined in with her song

I ALSO DESERVE A HOT ALBANY AND TSP DENIES ME THIS

👏 GIVE 👏 ME 👏 HOT 👏 SCOTTISH 👏 DUDES 👏

can’t believe this is the network that brought us outlander. jesus, couldn’t give richard rankin a role in this??? he’d make a great albany

i expect expository dialogue in historical dramas but this is something else

maggie saying “the queen said it was not the best time to ask, you are not at your happiest” - how am i expected to believe margaret pole is THIS stupid

actually surprised at louis being nice to mary and vowing not to hurt her, this is one up on the tudors’ gross portuguese king

for a show that airs on starz the sex scenes are so dull

mary just trying to induce a heart attack in louis is so funny, love her so much

“you are the greatest queen scotland has ever known” look i love meg to pieces but somewhere, st margaret is turning over in her grave

“you don’t favour one clan over another” OH LORD

i like how they have lina speaking spanish but it just drives home how much better stephanie levi-john is at this

i like henry’s green doublet

oh yeah you go girl! clench that neck and win back your husband from that evil wolsey! girl power!!!! this ending is so anticlimactic but what else should i expect

[saviorsbookcafe]

The Savior’s Book Café in Another World: Chapter 3

INDEX || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Chapter 3: An Encounter in a Different World

Translated by: sydney Proofread by: Necro

“Welcome.”

Relieved that my voice still works, I look at my first customer, book clutched to my chest.

A man, possibly a few years older than me, around the same decade.

With crisp features, he is good-looking in a way that could be called handsome.

He gives off a somewhat intimidating, but honest impression.

He is wearing the same Knights uniform that I saw in a book before, with a beautifully designed sword at his hip.

At the sound of my voice, he looks at me and his body stiffens for a moment.

His eyes seem wary.

After a moment, he speaks to me.

“I left my horse in the paddock outside but, is that alright?”

“Yes, there’s a barrier to prevent any theft, so please let it run around freely. Or if you don’t want to release it, you can tie it up in the stable at the edge of the paddock.”

“I’ll leave her as is then. The sign outside said this is a ‘book café’...?”

“Yes, you are free to read any of the books here. The books in this café are enchanted so that they won’t get dirty, so while it may not be very good manners, you can read while eating here,” I say, throwing a little joke in, and his stiff demeanor relaxes a little, a small smile breaking out onto his face.

His gaze moves to the bookshelves in the café, then to the book in my arms, his eyes widening.

As he opens his mouth again, his voice wavers a little.

“That book, wasn’t it already out of print...?”

“Yes, I desperately wanted to read it and I finally got it, so today’s the first day it’s in the café. Would you like to read it?”

“Yes, of course!”

As if that tense air had never existed, he smiles happily.

I react the same way upon finding a book I want to read, so I can understand how he feels.

“You can sit wherever you’d like, and because customers rarely come, feel free to read as much as you’d like,” I tell him, handing him the book in my hands.

Taking the book happily, he looked around the café, before moving to a seat in the corner.

The chair he chose was in front of the fire, so it was in one of the most relaxing areas.

There are seats divided by partitions as well, but those seats are a little farther from the bookshelves, so anyone who wants to devote their time to reading probably won’t choose those.

And I just realized, I forgot to put out a sign for the private room.

After I close up tonight, I’ll have to write up something so customers even know there’s a private room.

Making a mental note, I hand him a menu.

Since this is a café, I made certain to offer a variety of teas and coffees, and mainly added light meals to the menu.

There are also plenty of meals that are easy to eat while reading on there.

That said, since this café is open late into the night, I prepared a few types of heavier meals as well.

It’s evening already, so if he orders anything I wonder if he’ll just order something to drink before dinner, or if he’ll order a heavier meal as an early dinner.

Contrary to my thoughts, he hesitated over the menu before pointing to the page with lighter meals.

“I’ll have a sandwich with tea.”

“Of course, I’ll have it out shortly.”

Is this just a light dinner, or is he going to eat late but wants to eat something in the meantime?

Wait, this isn’t something I should be concerned with.

I’m curious about my first customer, but I quickly leave those thoughts behind and return to the kitchen space.

It’s rude to be nosy.

I readjust my ponytail from over my shoulder to behind my head and wash my hands.

I headed towards a pantry I made in a blind spot from the café interior, and summoned ingredients with my pendant.

This world has some foods that are the same as in the world I grew up in, along with some foods I’ve never heard of before, but I went through plenty of trial and error combining those ingredients to come up with a menu full of items I’m confident in.

It’d be perfectly fine for me to summon things directly from my pendant, but as someone who loves cooking, I want to make it myself.

I chose some ingredients from what the pendant had to offer, and summoned them with a smile.

What he had ordered was the lighter of two kinds of sandwiches. 

If he had chosen the other one, it would have had meat and cooked vegetables and would definitely be more filling, but this one was significantly quicker to make.

Even so, I took my time making it.

Fresh tomatoes, a vegetable from this world similar to lettuce, and crunchy charred bacon.

It’s a sandwich made with vegetables I summoned the same way as the first ingredients.

Since it’s for a main course though, I added ham and cheese and grilled it.

It makes a light crunch as I cut it with my knife, and the cheese drips out of the edges of the sandwich.

Maybe I’ll have a sandwich for lunch tomorrow too, I think as I plate the completed sandwich.

I can even summon as many rare ingredients as I want, and I have plenty of time and love cooking.

Since I’m the only one who’s ever tasted any of them, everything here is made to my taste, but I think they’re all good dishes.

I hope my first customer likes the café and the food here.

Carrying the sandwich and a pot of tea, I made my way to him, where he seemed to be focusing intently on the book in front of him.

Remembering the times when I’m in the middle of reading, I hesitate to call out to him, but I have no choice.

“I’m sorry for the wait. You can have as much tea as you’d like, the teapot won’t run out of water.”

“O-oh, thanks.”

The pot is enchanted not to run out and is also enchanted to not cool off, no matter how long it sits.

I place the teapot and a small jar of tea leaves on the table along with a cup and the plated sandwich, and offer him a pocketwatch.

“This watch has an alarm on it. There’s no time limit so you can stay until closing if you’d like, but if you need to leave by a certain time, then please use this. That way it will only ring in your head.”

“I appreciate it. Thanks.”

“I’m running this café casually, so I’ll just be reading or working, but don’t mind me. You can read as many of the books in the café as you’d like.”

At first, I felt that it might not be good to be reading a book while other customers are here, but then I thought that if I were in their position, I’d be more uncomfortable if the staff were just standing around.

And since I don’t really have to profit off of this café, it wouldn’t really hurt if people stopped coming.

“I see, in that case I’ll read as much as I’d like.”

“Yes, if you need anything please ring the bell on your table. Oh, and for the series you’re reading, I just got the rest of them in today, so I have the next one as well.”

“Really?! I spent so long looking for them, but I’d given up. Thank you,” he says, looking truly happy, and I smile at him, telling him to take his time before stepping away.

I told him what I needed to, so I just didn’t want to disturb his reading time any longer than necessary.

I turn away as he picks up the sandwich and returns to the world of his book, and return to the counter myself.

Just as he took a bite of the sandwich, he made a surprised face, before smiling a bit and continuing to eat, so I hope he liked it.

I don’t really like working very hard, but having a customer come like this still makes me happy.

Listening to the sound of the pages of a book being turned, I returned my gaze to the book in my hand.

He ended up staying focused on his book until his alarm rang, but it looks like his alarm went off about halfway through the book.

He looks extraordinarily disappointed as he stands from his chair, not even trying to hide his reluctance to part with the book as he looks at it.

When he paid for his meal, he was very surprised at how cheap everything was, but because I can summon as many ingredients as I want for free, I only set the prices high enough to not be suspicious.

Of course, it would be strange if everything was free, so I just set the prices as low as I could.

Having paid, he looked at the book in his hands, before eventually noticing the stack of books next to the register, a look of astonishment appearing on his face.

He picks up the topmost book, his voice strained as he asks, “This one too, it was only supposed to have a limited number of copies.”

“Yeah, I happened to end up with it, so I thought I’d put it in the café.”

After staring at the book, he looks around the café, his gaze running over each of the bookcases, and his eyes brighten.

“I’m going to come back tomorrow. If I didn’t have to work tomorrow, I’d want to stay longer.”

He continues looking around the café eagerly, yet disappointedly.

There are several more books after the one he read today, and I’m sure if he had the time he would stay until closing.

Holding the partially-read book in hand, he opens his mouth apologetically.

“I’m in the middle of this one, but would it be possible for you to put it aside, so that no one else borrows it?”

“Yes, I can do that. This café is entirely a hobby for me, and I haven’t put any advertisements out, so even though it’s been some time since it opened, you’re my first and only customer. I think it’s unlikely that anyone else will come.”

“Is that so...? Well, it certainly is deep in the forest. Since I can leave my horse untethered, I’ll come again. And the book....”

“I’ll give you a bookmark for that. Please write your name on it and leave it in the book, and I’ll hold it at the counter until you come back.”

“Thank you. If that’s all, then I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’ll be waiting. Thank you very much.”

He leaves with a relaxed smile, and I don’t feel any of the tension from when he first arrived.

I wonder if it was stress, or if he was just tired.

Whenever I’m getting stressed, I want to read, so maybe he’s like me in that way.

The bookmark in his book has the name ‘Ill’ written on it.

“Ill-san, huh? I’m glad my first customer seems to be a good person.”

At first he seemed intimidating, but he turned out to be calm and charming.

He was polite too, so maybe he’s just the type of person who has an intimidating atmosphere.

Personally, he looked to be just my type.

I don’t know if he’ll actually come tomorrow, but for now I’ll start cleaning up and getting ready to close.

Maybe I’ll make a slightly nicer dinner as a celebration of my first customer.

Oh, before I forget, I need to put out a sign for that room.

Riding my beloved horse on the path back to the castle, my mind races with everything that’s happened today.

A smile broke out onto my face as I thought, I really found a nice place today.

As someone who’s been teased for being a bookworm, that book café was a gold mine.

The atmosphere was nice, and the food was delicious and just as I liked.

The owner of the café was calm and friendly, so I’m looking forward to returning after work tomorrow.

She said it’s been some time since that café opened, but I wish I’d found it sooner.

But as soon as I see the castle from a distance, that happy feeling withers away.

The castle where the king who rules this country lives, and the place I live as a member of the Knights.

The place where a young Savior girl who it is said will save the world arrived.

I let out a sigh, and am reminded of the sour morning I had because of her.

Early in the morning, just after sunup, I looked out the window from high in the tower of Osela Castle.

Below were the horse grounds.

Normally the Knights’ horses would be lazily running around there, but now there wasn’t a single horse in sight.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Just ‘cause the Savior got scared by a horse and fell, now we can’t even let them run around,” the man standing next to me spats.

The light reflected almost too brightly off of his short blond hair, which was the opposite color of mine.

“And after she was the one who came into the horse grounds unannounced. Is she trying to stress out the horses until the next monster subjugation?” I added.

I’m grateful that even if I would normally be reprimanded for complaining in my position, I don’t have to hold back in front of my trusted childhood friend.

Ever since the Savior came to this country several months ago, the castle has been uncomfortably tense.

Everyone watched how the Savior acted, and tried to go unnoticed so as to not get hurt.

But the incident with the horses was completely unprecedented.

“I’m working with the Princess to figure out the Savior’s whereabouts and find a time and place to let our horses out, so we’re managing for now, but are you okay? Are you sure it wouldn’t be better to leave your horse with me?”

“You wouldn’t be able to hide taking two horses out at once. Don’t worry, after I finish the work for the Knights, I’ll be going on a long ride.”

“But you’re always looking forward to spending some time reading once work’s over. It must be stressful for a bookworm like you.”

“I’m more concerned about my horse’s stress than mine. It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t have as much time to eat either, right? You’ll collapse before long.”

“I can manage that much. You too, don’t get so irritated that the Princess hates you. You finally got engaged, after all.”

“Yeah, I got it. It’d be nice if the Prince would pay attention to his surroundings like before. To think that despite being lectured by the King, Queen, and his older brother and younger sister, he’s still in a trance with the Savior. What a pain.”

The Savior who arrived at this castle was a beautiful young girl.

She is one of the Saviors said to sometimes descend upon this world from a different world.

It is said that any country who obtains a Savior who has learned the powerful magic called Great Magic would even be able to unite the world with that power.

I heard the several Saviors who descended upon this world are working to learn Great Magic.

Osela is a country with no interest in uniting the world, but everyone is still happy that there is a Savior in their country.

Not only will her existence alone suppress invasions by other countries, but the second Prince of this country has fallen in love for the first time, with the young Savior girl.

But it was only at first that everyone welcomed their relationship.

If she were to learn Great Magic, marry the Prince and rule the country with him, the peace in this country would be guaranteed.

However....

“The Savior, huh. If she would just learn one spell, even a basic one, it’d be different,” I noted.

“Apparently she hates studying. We may not have enough magic to use Great Magic, but now I know there really is no point in just having magic.”

No matter how much time passed, she never learned a single spell.

She’s refusing to learn even basic spells that young kids can manage so long as they have some knowledge of magic.

There’s no doubt that she has magic, an amount ours can’t even compare to.

Just as we sigh simultaneously, we hear bright laughter echoing from far away.

Looking towards the source of the sound, it’s the Savior clinging cheerfully onto the Prince.

Upon seeing her, my brows furrowed and I let out another heavy sigh.

My sigh comes at the same time as one next to me, and my friend’s gaze is locked on the Prince and the Savior as he opens his mouth irritatedly, “She’s so conceited, so what if she’s a Savior?”

“Don’t let anyone hear you saying that.”

“Everyone’s thinking it, they just won’t admit it. Since the Prince is head over heels for her, no one’s bringing it up, but even though it’s been near half a year since she got here, she’s just spending all her time hanging around the Prince and hasn’t learned a single spell. But on the other hand, it’d be bad if another country took her, so we can’t just throw her out either. And we can’t have her convincing the Prince to run away with her to another country either. Just thinking about it irritates me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ill. If I didn’t have anyone to complain to, I’d go insane.”

“I feel the same, Beork. I hope we can find a way to solve this all.... Ah, it’s about time to get back to work.”

“Today we start the real work. Not only are we unable to rely on the Savior, but we have to reinforce our patrols, too. I’ll leave that to you, right, Knight Captain Soeil?”

“Stop with that ridiculous formality, Beork. You’re the Vice Knight Captain after all.”

I pat Beork, who called me not by the usual nickname “Ill” but by my full name “Soeil,” on the back before heading towards the Knights’ main office.

Both in battle and in life, I’m always being saved by my friend.

“Yeah, yeah, the two brats from the countryside are now the Knight Captain and Vice Knight Captain. After everyone in the village was so happy, we’d be ostracized if we came back saying we quit the Knights because of a little girl. We can’t do anything about it, so we’ll just focus on what we can do.”

“Yeah. It’d be nice if this tense atmosphere would clear up soon.”

After another day of work ends, I get on my horse, suppressing my desire to read a book.

My horse cuts through the cold air, and I let out a sigh once we’re some distance away from the castle.

If happiness escaped with a sigh, I would have run out long ago.

“How did it come to this?”

The words I whispered from atop my horse are drowned out by the wind, not reaching a single person.

It used to be a peaceful country.

The royal family was overflowing with consideration for their people, and due to the efforts of the skilled Knights, there was very little harm done by monsters.

Just the other day, my childhood friend Beork was won over by the Princess, and they got engaged.

Beork, who had gone through girlfriend after girlfriend without interruption, is now completely captivated by the Princess.

I had told him with a laugh that I would have never expected that from the old him, and he told me now it’s my turn to find someone, and we’d joked around for a while.

It’s almost like those peaceful times never happened.

Even the Savior refusing to learn magic was tolerable at first.

Saviors are said to come from another world, so that means this young girl was suddenly taken away from her parents to live in a world completely unlike what she’s used to.

She must be missing her home, everyone thought, deciding at first to just watch over her.

More so, it was for the sake of the second Prince, who hasn’t had any romantic relationships despite his age.

But no matter how much time passed, she never learned any spells.

She would avoid it by saying she doesn’t like studying, crying like a child as she refused.

And then she started to use the fact that she’s a Savior to work towards her own selfishness, sneering at those of us who couldn’t leave.

She rejected the maids, and whined to the Prince that one of the maids had been mean to her.

The maid, who had worked here for many years and was overflowing with loyalty, had only given her a brief word of advice about her table manners.

We lied to her that the maid was fired, and instead switched the maid to exclusive work deep in the castle where the girl couldn’t enter.

She complained to the Prince that his retainer had bullied her.

All she had done was refuse to hand over her precious necklace that the girl said she wanted.

We gave the girl an identical copy, and had the Prince’s retainer switch to a different job.

She came into the horse grounds unannounced, scared the horses, and got hurt.

She had the horse grounds closed because she was scared, and ordered that no horse ever be brought in front of her.

The Prince stayed head over heels for her.

Something seems strange, the Prince wasn’t like this before, and the King used to be stricter in dealing with these sorts of things too.

At the very least, they weren’t the type of people to spoil her this much.

The King and the Queen are both objecting to the Prince, but there hasn’t been any apparent effect.

I want to complain to her, or better yet have her removed from the castle, but I won’t be forgiven if I say something like that.

I can’t relax in the castle with the tense atmosphere around me and all of this to think about.

If the Savior just learned Great Magic, it’d be peaceful again.

But is there any worth in a Savior who doesn’t have any intention of learning magic?

I’ve been wondering that to myself recently.

Ahh, I want to read.

The time I used to have set aside for reading has now been dedicated to taking my horse out for a long ride since the horse grounds have been closed.

She’s my beloved horse, my hobbies can’t compare to her wellbeing.

But even so, being surrounded by this tension and unable to even pick up a book is undeniably wearing on me.

My horse can probably tell, the way she looks up at me somewhat apologetically, making me feel even more cornered.

I gently pet her neck.

“Sorry, let’s take a bit of a different route today.”

I decided to go in a slightly different direction to get my mind off of things, and directed her into the forest where the snow was piling up.

And in the middle of the forest, I saw that café.

“...a café? This deep in the forest?”

I dismount from my horse and look up at the two-story building.

This place was deep in the forest, still within Osela’s territory but a distance from the town.

Not only was this place unsuitable for opening a café, it was unlikely that there would be any customers at all out here.

Even as someone who should be familiar with what’s in the country I work in, I’ve never heard of this place before.

A sign that said ‘Open’ hung on the front door, and the building had a subdued appearance.

A small sign in front of the building said ‘Book Café.’

“Book café? Is that a café that has books?”

I’ve never heard of this café, I wonder if the owner likes books.

If there are books inside, then maybe I can read for the first time in awhile.

As the thought crossed my mind, my horse tugged at her reins, pulling me towards something.

“What is it?”

Following her gaze, I see a space surrounded by a fence.

She seemed to be pulling me towards it, so I let her lead me and take a look, seeing a paddock big enough to leave her untethered, along with a small stable.

At the edge of the paddock grew plenty of grass that horses like, and there seemed to be a magic barrier to prevent the cold from getting in.

Next to the gate, there was a sign written in the same handwriting as the ‘Book Café’ sign out front, saying, ‘Please let the horses run around, and you can use the stable as well.’

My horse looked at the grass, her eyes sparkling, and I realize it’s about time for dinner for myself as well. I don’t have much of an appetite, but it’d still be best to eat something.

Deciding I’ll go into the café, I open the gate to the paddock.

The warm air soaks into my body, cold from the snowy road.

“This place has heating too? The café owner must have a lot of magic and magic control.”

It seems like there aren’t any other customers, and worst comes to worst I can come back and tether her later.

As soon as I let go of the reins, she immediately runs over to the grass and begins to eat it happily.

Once she eats, she’ll probably run around as much as she wants.

This would be quite a big paddock for personal use.

Because of the Savior, we haven’t been able to let the horses run around as they’d like recently, so I’m very grateful for this.

Leaving the paddock, I’m exposed to the cold air again as I walk to the entrance to the café.

As I gently push the door to the café open, warm air surrounds my body, and I hear the sound of a crackling fire and quiet music.

What surprises me is the number of bookcases.

I’d hoped there would be as many books as anyone with a hobby of reading would have, but this café is filled with impressive wooden bookcases lined up, packed with books.

“Welcome.”

I look in the direction of the composed voice to see a woman, probably a little younger than me, with a calm air about her, a book in her arms as she looks back at me.

Because I’ve had so many unpleasant encounters with the young Savior girl, just seeing a woman younger than me reminds me of her, putting me off a little.

But this woman’s calm demeanor makes that vanish in an instant.

To be honest, I had actually imagined the owner of this café would be a man, so that feeling was unexpected.

There’s no sign that anyone else is in the café, so this woman must be the owner.

I tell her that I’d left my horse in the paddock outside, and she says there’s a magic barrier on it to prevent any theft.

I’m very grateful, but that’s supposed to be considerably advanced magic.

The castle’s stable has a similar barrier, but when it was put up, everyone who had helped had drained their magic and was completely exhausted.

If that’s what happens when multiple people are involved, did this woman really do it all by herself?

Such a trivial problem is immediately forgotten when she tells me I can read any of the books in the café.

On the bookshelves are numerous books I’ve wanted to read but have never been able to get, and my depressed feelings instantly brighten up.

That one too, I’ve never read it before.

Next to that one is another book I’ve seen before and been curious about.

What’s more, the book she’s holding is the one I want to read most right now, a book I’d done everything I could to find.

The book I’d given up on, after it went out of print and there was no sign I’d be able to get it, is right in front of my eyes.

She hands me the book with a bright smile, and I thank her, looking around the café to see that there seems to be no one here except me.

She had told me I could sit anywhere, so I choose the most comfortable-looking chair.

The chair is comfortable, and good for reading.

I have to eat dinner, but I also want to read.

Honestly there’s been so much going on lately that I haven’t been feeling like eating much at all, so I decide eating something light will be enough.

I asked for a sandwich that I’ll be able to eat with one hand while reading, and a cup of tea, and immediately opened my book.

After reading for a short while, I hear her telling me my food is ready in an apologetic voice.

It’s obvious that she’d need to interrupt me since she’s bringing me what I ordered, but she seems apologetic about disturbing me.

It felt...very kind, and made me feel a bit better.

She hands me an enchanted pocketwatch, and I quickly calculate what time I need to return to the castle by.

Realizing there’s no doubt that I won’t finish this book tonight gives me a bit of a shock, but I decide to focus on reading as much as I can while I’m here.

She tells me to take my time, and I thank her, watching for a moment as she turns away.

She picks up a book on the counter and sits down to read.

I notice that the book she’s reading is another one that I like, and my mood rises again.

Having the clerk here reading as well makes me feel better about not paying much attention to what’s around me, and I’m grateful.

Not worrying about my surroundings, I’d be able to stay here for quite a long time.

Dropping my gaze back to my book, I take a bite of my sandwich, and it tastes so good that I can’t believe there isn’t anyone else here.

Unconsciously, the hand on my book stops moving as I taste the sandwich.

The vegetables and bread are delicious, I’ve never had a sandwich this good before.

Maybe it tastes even better because I haven’t had much appetite recently and have therefore just been making do in regards to meals.

The sandwich has a gentle flavor, one that seems to make all of my worries disappear.

I forgot how good food could taste, I think with a wry smile.

As soon as I take the first bite, my hand doesn’t stop moving, and despite thinking I didn’t have any appetite, the next thing I knew my plate was empty.

I’m left feeling somewhat unsatisfied, but now is my chance to do some reading for the first time in awhile.

Not only that, but I have a book I’ve always wanted in front of me, and now all I want to do is read.

Next time I come, I’ll try ordering something different, I decide, looking back down at the book in my hands.

She said that I could have as much tea as I wanted too, so the service here is very good.

Sitting in a comfortable chair near a warm fire and listening to quiet music while reading a book I like.

It’s an incredibly calm and luxurious time.

And as I read, the time passed in the blink of an eye.

It took me a moment to realize the gentle music echoing in my head was the alarm, and I became incredibly disappointed upon realizing time was already up.

But I ask for her to put my book aside at the counter, and leave the café in high spirits.

Outside, I see my beloved horse looking very refreshed.

I’m glad I changed routes today.

Mounting my horse, I turn away from the café.

Apparently I’m the first and, as of right now, only customer.

Sorry to the café, but it’s nice being the only one there, I think.

The food was delicious, and the prices were extremely cheap.

It seems she really is running this café as a side hobby like she said, since she probably won’t make any profit like that.

The atmosphere was just as I prefer, and there are still many more books I want to read there.

My horse glances over at the grass in the paddock longingly, and I stroke her back with a smile.

It seems she also really likes this café, and I’ve finally got an appetite for the first time in awhile.

“Let’s come back tomorrow. With those prices, it’s cheaper than cooking for myself. If I could, I’d come every day.”

She neighs happily, and I lead her back towards the castle.

I hope nothing’s happened with the Savior, I think, feeling my heart drop.

I let out a sigh, suddenly missing the café I’ve only just left.

If only the Savior was like that gently smiling café owner.

Deciding that I’m absolutely coming back tomorrow, I headed back towards the castle with a heavy heart.

Translation Notes:

Ill’s horse: in the Japanese (throughout both the manga and light novel) the gender of Ill’s horse isn’t specified, but because I didn’t want to use “it,” I decided to pick a gender and use “she.” If there comes a day where the gender is specified, I’ll make a note of that, but for now that is very much not the case (and I honestly don’t think that day will ever come)