#and now i can ket other people go down this path too

[fuckingarataswespeak]

I like to imagine people who write stories are holding your hands and looking into your eyes and leading you down a path

[heartofnopal]

Introducing Axayacatl (ah-shah-YAH-cahtl) or simply Axa or Axaya. Pronouns they/them or he/him (Axa was inspired by my dearest most awesome cousin and the two together inspired by the Mayan Hero Twins Xbalanque and Hunahpu ^^)

@vesuviansunshowers thank you so much for giving it a go! And @thearcanafanfan, I wouldn’t have had the courage to post this story if it wasn’t for you, thank you. 

Name pronunciation guide: 

Quetzalli:  ket-sa-lee 

Axayacatl:  ah-shah-YAH-cahtl (nickname ah-shah)

Topiltzin: toh-PEEL-tzin (nickname toh-PEEL)

Huehuecoatl (weh-weh-KOA-tl)

Words: Huey Tlatoani - it means “great speaker” similar to an emperor, but is elected by the aristocracy 

The Game Begins Part 1 (WIP title help me please) The roar of the coliseum had died down and Quetzalli sat alone in the corner of the cell far from her companions. Dare she try it again? She looked between her hands and felt the energy emanating between them. Maybe Asra was right, perhaps this was the magic she was meant for. Quetzalli focused the energy over her mother’s obsidian knife beside her. Like the first few times she tried, the knife disappeared from it’s place and dropped over her thigh. She winced as it cut her skin where it fell. Now if only she could land these portals in more precise locations like she did before so long ago. She tried again and let the magic flow. It was a sensation she never thought she’d ever feel again. It reminded her of her childhood, of Axa, of her mother. This magic felt nothing like her fire magic accidents, this was familiar and everything about it felt right.

***

The sun dawned upon the stone ballcourt. It was a monument at the foot of the temple where warriors would reenact the struggle between day and night. Here, disputes would be settled, events would be celebrated, and the heavens would be honored. But the only game being played this early in the morning was much further from the ballcourt. 

Laughter erupted from the other side of the temple as Axayacatl landed at the edge of the pond after having successfully struck a rubber ball with their hip. The ball flew across the makeshift court and barely made it through the hoop. The child grinned from ear to ear and rejoined their teammate, Topiltzin. Axa was in high spirits. Only when their opponents scored soon after did the smirk leave their face. 

As soon as a brief respite was called, their teammate dropped his shoulders, exhausted. "We need a miracle."

Axa's brown eyes darted beside them to the young girl sitting on the steps at the other side of the pond. "No, we need to cheat! Quick, Topil, switch with Quetzalli!" 

Topiltzin tried to hide his relief as he left to take a rest where the girl sat. "You're in, 'Tzalli!" As soon as he tapped her elbow, she sprinted off to join her twin.  "About time! Only when you're losing so bad do you want me to play. Finally admitting you need help?"

Axa furrowed their brows and helped her strap on her shin guards. "We're just better together, okay? You're not so good without me either. Come on, put the arm guards on too! Dad will kill me if he finds you hurt."

"Mom wouldn't mind. I told her we were going to play this morning, and she wanted to watch. She should be here soon."

"You invited mom? But ... okay let's make this quick before she gets here!"

Quetzalli stretched and practiced moving in all her guards. She adjusted her hair and tucked in the various gold and turquoise necklaces beneath her poncho. "Why not? She doesn't mind me playing with you all."

The ball was now in play. It rolled toward Axa and they struck it low with their elbow back across the court. Their opponents hit it back towards Quetzalli and she dove down, hitting it hard enough to give the rolling ball some bounce. "She doesn't even mind me practicing with her arrows,” she continued, “Or her smoking mirror knife she gave us."

By the time it returned to Axa it was high enough for them to strike it with their hip. It bounced off them and towards their sister who attempted the same maneuver but towards the vertical hoop. It was close. 

Axa wasn't too discouraged. After all, this was quickest their team had even got that close. But this could be quicker. They wiped the sweat off their brow and smiled slyly, speaking softly "Come on, Quetzalli, do the magic."

Stunned to hear the suggestion, Quetzalli missed the pass with her elbow but recovered with a hip strike towards Axa. "No that's cheating!"

"Just enough to catch up?"

"No," she grunted as she dove to the ground to strike the rolling ball that was losing momentum again. At that moment, a woman dressed in a skirt and mid-length poncho descended the steps, giving a smile to Topiltzin who was watching too closely as if waiting for something. He jumped as he noticed her and bowed his head respectfully. Nakawé sat down beside him and leaned back on the steps, curiously watching her children and waving back to her daughter. The woman stood out among royalty and some may say not in a good way.

It had been long since she had lived a nomadic lifestyle among her people in the Catclaw desert. But marrying the high priest and cousin to the emperor did nothing to change the way she presented herself. Nor did it stop her from hunting and teaching her own children these skills. There were those at court who distrusted her and looked down upon the union between her and the high priest. But even the high priest himself was the son of a prince and a Prakran sailor.

Nakawé looked upon her children and sighed. Such lineages would never find their way to the throne. But they would be a useful voice in the leadership here if they could speak on the behalf of her people. Their opinions could still influence the rest of the court and she would ensure they wouldn’t stray from that path. It was a selfish but hopeful thought. 

Axa scored and the twins knocked their elbows together. They needed to make one more shot to catch up before the sunlight hit the hoops. Axa threw their hair back and prepared for the ball. "We might win after all and get to keep mom's knife."

Quetzalli nearly missed the ball again. "What?!"

Axa gave her a side grin. "I wagered we’d win on the obsidian knife she gave us."

"You idiot that's not for you to bet with!" Quetzalli was suddenly a ball of anxiety and her coordination struggled. This was it. She could tell their opponents were determined and it showed in their more aggressive hits. The game was a blur now, moving too fast for her and at times it hurt. She could barely see the ball coming and it seemed every good hit she made was by chance. One more hit and pass to Axa who was also in a slight panic over the intensity. They weren’t prepared. The ball flew towards the hoop and it was sure to miss by an inch. Axa bit their lip as the rim shined in the sunlight marking the end of the game. But instead of bouncing off the rim, the ball had miraculously made it through the hoop. The game was tied. 

It was a fast movement that Axa wouldn't have noticed if their eyes hadn't been so focused on it. The ball was gone for a millisecond and suddenly reappeared an inch higher from its initial position and it made its way through the hoop. Realizing what happened, they looked back at their sister and grinned. Her brown eyes were full of both shock and anger as they met theirs. Her little hands made fists as she approached them but Axa opened their arms and embraced her to ward off suspicion from the enemy team who had not noticed. 

"I'll deal with you later. How could you bet mom's knife?!" Quetzalli struggled from their grip as the other boys came over to them. Axa laughed and knocked elbows with them for a game well played. "I didn't! But that was an incredible move! I'm just helping you practice your magic, see?"

Quetzalli was about to say more until Topiltzin came to tap her elbow with his. She could see her mother's face over his shoulder. She was ... afraid? That made no sense, she knew of her daughter's portal abilities already. But looking closer she could see her mother wasn't even looking at her. Oh no. Quetzalli released Topiltzin and spun around to see the sorcerer Huehuecoatl. 

"Well done, Quetzalli. You're getting better at this... game." He towered over the girl. He was a young man, barely an adult and he appeared unthreatening, thin, unarmed, and wearing little more than a skirt and dark cape. Yet she was told he was one of the most dangerous people within their borders.

She found her voice again. "Axa made the shots." She straightened up before the sorcerer and raised her chin, trying to appear taller and unintimidated. 

"Of course they did. With their sister to help." 

"We... we do make a great team!" she searched for more conversation to try and prove she was unafraid. "The Huey Tlatoani will realize that and keep us together when Axa trains to become a warrior."

"Is that what you want, child? You know that is not allowed for you." Huehuecoatl knelt beside her and straightened her turquoise necklace. She wanted to back away. She wanted to headbutt his sly smile and run to her mother on the steps. But looking back at her mother for help would make her appear weak in his eyes. No, she was Quetzalli. She was not afraid of this sorcerer or any of his magic tricks. She held her head high. "My mother is a warrior and the best hunter! I can be one too."

Huehuecoatl chuckled and glanced up at the stunned Nakawé. "That's different. Your mother is of the desert. Her ways are not known to us here. Where you belong remains to be seen."

"I belong here!" She didn't mean to raise her voice. But it was a familiar insult among other noble children and her reaction to it was instinctual by now. 

"Oh of course of course." He quieted her and flashed another smile. "You want to be a warrior? Perhaps I can sway the Huey Tlatoani."

Quetzalli dropped her defenses, her big brown eyes flashed interest. "You... you could do that?"

The sorcerer had her now, but kept all triumphant smiles beneath the surface. He looked down at her hands. "With your cooperation, I could make it possible. There are certain things we'll need to consider first."

He suddenly produced the ball from behind him and offered it to her. Normally she would have been reluctant, but she took the ball with an eager sparkle in her eyes. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, Quetzalli."

As Huehuecoatl turned away, Quetzalli nearly stumbled as Axa crashed into her with open arms. "Quetzalli, I'm sorry! I didn't know he was there! What did he say?!"

Quetzalli patted her brother's head and parted from them. "It's okay, Axa." The moment of eagerness was slowly fading back into worry as her mother came to her. No matter what the sorcerer said, seeing her mother scared was always worrying. 

"You two, hurry home and bathe." Quetzalli and Axayacatl parted with their friends to head home. Nakawé left in the opposite direction toward the main temple, steps hurried, breathing fast, and hands trembling.

to be continued...

[tact-and-impulse]

Some fic for @shepherds-of-haven and the Lovelace Day event! Upped the challenge for myself and combined 2 prompts for each...MC. Sorry I have eight. 

Under the cut or on AO3.

I. while pretending to be a couple / in a garden full of flowers

The house was quaint and picturesque, with a gravel path leading to the front door and boxes of pansies under the bay window. The servant led them around the building, under the arch that led to the expansive garden. “This way, please.”

Flat stones marked winding pathways for visitors to traverse, under the shade of tall trees and even over an artificial stream. In one grassy area, a few tables were set up with refreshments. People milled about, enjoying the scenery. All around, flowers bloomed in abundance, in swathes of color and scent.

“It’s a beautiful place.” He commented.

“It’s even more so at night. Perhaps, we’ll see you again at such a time for you and your…lover?”

“That’s right!” Briony tightened her hold on his arm, nervously laughing. “We’ll definitely think about it.”

“Yes, and seeing more will help us decide.” Well, if they succeeded on this mission, there wouldn’t be a need to return. Somewhere, underneath the natural beauty, there was a black market organization selling magical artifacts to any buyer. With a quick scan, the vast majority here were Diminished. There were a number of older Ket too. Every stoic, weathered face was reminiscent of his father, a cousin, a neighbor. The hollow ache of self-loathing awoke in his chest, the edges of his vision fading…

“Honey, do you need to sit down?” Briony’s murmur cleared the fog, and her violet eyes were brimming with concern.

“Sorry, I was a little dizzy.” He squeezed her hand, finding genuine comfort. “But I feel better now.”

“That’s good. Let me know if it happens again, okay?” The concern hadn’t subsided but her expression was warm and she tugged him down one of the paths. So, what are we looking for?

Intel said there’s a hedge maze, but we should probably save that for later. For now, let’s keep an eye on anyone fishy.

Got it! She gave a slight nod, and he couldn’t suppress a smile.

He was still learning, but he could check anything that sparked interest with his Binding magic. And if needed, Briony could cause a distraction or get them out of a pinch, without their swords. The issue was that the garden was usually filled with groups or pairs, hence the necessity to pretend to be a loving couple. Lavinet had bemoaned not being able to join the mission and took it upon herself to outfit them. He was unaccustomed to his tailored attire and hoped he wasn’t showing it, but Briony looked pretty. Her pink hair was bound with a burgundy velvet ribbon, in the same shade as her knee-length dress. She was openly enjoying the garden, ponytail swishing with every head turn.

They were soon in contact with some Mages, claiming to have a collective date. They made small talk, delivering the cover story about their relationship. The sun was directly overhead, and Briony wiped her forehead.

“Are you thirsty?” He asked, though they hadn’t finished talking to the Mages. “I can get us some drinks.”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’ll be right here.” Don’t worry about me, I can handle it!

“Alright.” Reluctantly, he located the nearest table and picked up two flutes of vytas. How’s it going?

I don’t think they’re part of the organization, but I’m not sure if I’m selling it by myself. I’m so sorry.

It’s okay, this isn’t easy. And we can still make a recovery. He didn’t spill a drop as he headed back as quickly as he could. Briony was visibly tense, biting her bottom lip.

“Here you are, love.” He said and simultaneously thought. I apologize for what I’m about to do. Try not to break the glass.

As her fingers accepted the drink and her brow furrowed, he bent his head down and brushed his mouth over hers in a lingering kiss. One-sided at first, before she began to shyly respond.

Someone coughed. He pulled back from Briony, and he was genuinely embarrassed. The group apparently thought they wanted to be alone, and with teasing remarks, they wandered away.

Briony immediately downed her vytas. The glass was intact but a hairline crack had appeared above her thumb.

As for him, he was unexpectedly warm. His previous kisses were on missions like these, and yet, this felt new. Wait. Briony had amnesia, so had that essentially been her first kiss? “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure! I’m totally fine. I, um.” Her lips were very red…and soft. He forcefully dragged his stare back to her eyes. “Let’s keep going?”

He blinked. “With…?”

“With walking! In this garden.”

Of course. The mission. He swallowed. “Right.”

She took his arm again, but as they resumed their search, he couldn’t put her gliding touch out of his mind.

II. in the middle of battle / during an unexpected rainstorm

The sudden downpour was definitely not appreciated right now. Her brown hair was plastered to her ears, and rivulets trailed down her nose and temples. Mud squelched under her boots as she headed to the rendezvous point.

Hopefully, other people had already made it there. An unforeseen complication had forced the Shepherds to scatter, Blade ordering them to regroup at several known locations. The enemy had retreated for now, but the tension made her tighten her hold on her sword.

There! An old ruin of mossy stone provided shelter from the rain, and from what she recalled, it had to be one of the designated places. She scrubbed the water out of her eyes and hurried her pace.

As she approached, the sounds and sight of a clash met her. Two figures, fighting next to the ruin. A flash of lightning illuminated their faces, one unfamiliar and the other stoically focused. Blade. She felt relief, then dread at what appeared in her peripheral vision. A shadow, lurking in the haze.

She had improved lately, but fighting wasn’t her greatest strength and to be honest, it wasn’t her preferred option in a pinch. She only needed an instant to summon her magic, compressing a spell into her voice.

“Stop.”

The shadow froze in place, and she took the opportunity to strike. Just as the body slumped, she heard her name. The raindrops ceased as Blade lifted his cloak over her. His low voice was reassuring. “It’s good to see you.”

“Same to you.” She smiled and then laughed when she realized how soaked he was. “We can talk more if we’re both dry. Let’s go.”

They took shelter and kept watch at opposite ends. Ongoing communication revealed that about half of their party had reached another rendezvous point, and the other half were heading to theirs. Blade nodded at the information. “Understood. Did you run into anyone else?” He addressed this question to her.

“No, I haven’t. I hope they’re okay.” She rubbed her hands together, dispelling the numbness with friction.

“They know what needs to be done.” Nevertheless, the slightest crease between his eyebrows showed his worry. “But you seem to dislike the rain.”

“I always take storms seriously. I guess it’s because of years of living by the sea.” She lightly said.

“It makes sense. Would you ever go back there, if you could?”

“I don’t know. I think about it sometimes, but mostly about how I could have done more or what might have been.” The cold seeped through her wet clothing, and she hugged herself. “Anyway, it would probably be a very lonely trip.”

Blade looked conflicted, drawing one step closer. That became a pivot as a silhouette leapt out of the mist. Unsheathing her sword, she was pulled backwards by another. She switched her grip and stabbed deep, the groan of pain a good sign. Blade returned to follow through, killing her attacker. The body fell with a wet thud, and a nonverbal casting ensured it was flung faraway.

“Good work. It’s not over though; the others are having a hard time.” He readied to move. Distant voices echoed from the direction of the second rendezvous point. “We’ll have to be careful.”

She shook her head. “I’ll wait for the others.”

He was immediately concerned. “Are you injured?”

“No, but I’d only slow you down and you can be stealthier on your own.”

“That’s not true.”

“It won’t be long before everyone else comes here.” She argued. He didn’t react but she refused to budge. “I can handle myself, and we can regroup again later. But we need everyone to be alive. If it means we need to split up, that’s what we need to do, Commander.” She intended for the professionalism to ground him. Both of them. As much as she hated referencing their positions, the mission took priority.

At first, he remained unreadable. She was willing to wait; although out of practice, she was accustomed to dealing with stubborn Ket men. Then, his eyes flickered with approval. He suddenly ducked, and she thought they were being ambushed again when he kissed her. Firm but fleeting, and not cold at all. As she tried to process what had happened, he stared at her for a moment, expression affectionate.

“Everyone includes you as well. Stay safe, and thank you, Captain.” He smirked, ruffled her hair, and sprinted back into the storm.

“W-wait, uh…” She stammered belatedly. Her knees buckled, and she placed a hand against the wall for support. Her own heartbeat rivaled the intensity of the thunder overhead. She wasn’t sure how long she remained in a daze, until Trouble announced his presence.

“Hey, you made it!” A pause for scrutiny. “Why’s your face so red?”

III. surrounded by fire / shut the other one up for a minute

“You really are the strangest one. Every time I think you’re out of surprises, you manage to come up with another.” The voice was all too familiar.

She coughed, squinting past the smoke to see Croelle, looking as if he had stepped out of the ring of flames. Sparks floated around his visage.

“Oh. It’s you again.”

His lip curled in a sneer. “Is that what you have to say for yourself, when you’ve made this mess?”

“Not a mess. Just an…unfortunate side effect.”

“A side effect blazing beyond your control.” He stepped closer, looming over her, yellow gaze relentless. “You never asked me whether this little side project of yours was possible.” His tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious. “Was it because you didn’t want to know, to cling to your belief of free will? Or was it because you already knew the answer and blinded yourself to the inescapable truth?”

She did not speak. Maybe, it was a little of both. Maybe, it was neither. Ambiguity was a way of life for her. She had wandered aimlessly for years with only her pistol for protection and company; it had taken the threat of execution for her to commit to the Shepherds. But she had gained knowledge, especially with regards to her own abilities. Since her Veiled Circle days, there was a depth to magic that fascinated her, and Shifting magic provided limitless possibility. Experimenting with it occupied her free time, plucked at her thoughts during patrols and missions. Danger couldn’t dissuade her.

The temperature was becoming uncomfortable, perspiration beading at her hairline and collar. She switched to her first language in a brief lapse. “Servori. What does it matter?”

“Part of watching the Shepherds means I need to be informed. Your motive is a valuable piece of information. And my employer thinks you’re unpredictable. At the moment, there’s some investment in keeping you breathing.”

In the end, it was about work. “I see. However, I might not be alive for much longer if this keeps burning.” She directed some of her remaining magic to extinguish a portion of the fire, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t have the necessary skill.

“Are you asking for my help?”

There was no use in denying; above all, she had to survive. She sighed. “Yes.”

“I want to hear you say please.”

She leveled him with a deadpan stare. “Why?”

“I’ve earned your gratitude more times than I care to remember.” That meant he did remember. “And not once have I been repaid.”

She lifted her chin, annoyance growing. He was asking for this now? Even after multiple odd meetings where he popped in and out, she still didn’t understand him. He wasn’t quite a Mage, he worked for a mysterious party, he knew her name without asking. And he had the power to make Inquisitors listen to him. He was puzzling, and for once, she cursed her habit of fixating on difficult problems.

“You’re too elusive to properly repay.” She evaded.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be in the Chrysalis. One word is the very least I’m owed, for dealing with you and your reckless desire for troublesome situations. The tavern was one, and then you had to-”

He was talking way too much, and the logical course of action was to shut him up. As she reached out and cupped his face, there was a novel flash of confusion in his eyes before she kissed him.

And he was still trying to talk. “You…fu…listen…” His resistance only made her more determined, and finally, he gave in. One hand wrapped around her neck, the other maintained a bruising hold on her hip. Fine. If he wanted to lead, she’d go along with the flow.

She’d never done this before, and she left no room for fantasies in her mind. A kiss was supposed to be romantic, Shery liked to say, but in this case, it bought a solid minute of quiet. And it was her victory, she shut him up. That was enjoyable enough. Also, the curious tingle under her skin was compelling, but she was running out of air. She released him, rocking back on her heels. Interesting. Indignant shock wasn’t a bad look on him. She arched an eyebrow. “Are you finished?”

No response. He had been rendered speechless. The confusion hadn’t left, his eyes narrowed and focused on her mouth.

“By the way, that was my first kiss.” She added. “Does that count for anything?”

The fire abruptly died, and the light with it. The cold night air returned to tangle her curly tresses. She was going to be begrudgingly courteous, but any polite action was snuffed when he growled a curse and grabbed her face for another kiss.

IV. against the bookshelves in the library / while delirious at 3 am

“What are you reading?”

She immediately dove over the opened books in front of her. “Aah! Just, n-nothing, it’s smutty romance novels! All sorts of positions, don’t worry about it!”

“Uh-huh.” The Archmage bent down, grabbing one of the tomes on the edge of her workspace. Ignoring the disgruntled noise she made, he flipped through. “Hm, this seems more like formulas than fiction, and it doesn’t explain why you’re in the stacks this late.”

“Oh, fine.” She deflated. “I was trying to summon that thing you sneezed out.”

Red did a double take. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, remember when you had the flu? Trouble said some weird thing came out of a planar rip and it crawled away. I want to know what it is! Plus, some of the kids can’t sleep.”

“Does that mean you were the one who told them about it?” He was clearly teasing her.

“I thought it was a funny story, I didn’t realize it would scare them that bad! Come on, won’t you help out a fellow Conjurer?” She reached for the book and he didn’t fight her off.

“Sure, I’d like to find out what it is too.” He pulled over a chair, his gaze scanning over the various pages and papers. “What have you got so far?”

Tucking her chin-length curls behind her pointed ears, she went over the current iteration of the problem. He quickly located a certain volume, obviously intent on something specific, and soon resolved a few mistakes she had made. Meanwhile, she was making inroads on another part and they discussed how it would fit in. It was kind of nice working like this again. It reminded her of days long gone by, when she was still a student in Capra and he was helping out the younger Mages after graduation.

Midnight rolled around, but neither of them were tired yet. The equations became more complex, the balance in magic more precarious. She’d known he was smart, but he was really on another level. She was impressed. And when he complimented her creativity, she felt rather warm. It was approaching three in the morning, when they finally completed the summoning circle.

“I think it looks good.” Red was double checking, but his expression was confident. “Should we try it out tomorrow? Or would that be today?” He gave a light laugh.

“We might as well do it now. It’d be a waste if we stopped, right?” She grinned, and his expression was so heated she almost missed his response.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

They started the ritual. The salt lit into blue flame and the runes glowed. The air became denser, charged with power, until everything reverted as the spell ended. With a crack, a large, red-eyed, otherworldly bug resembling a centipede fell into the circle. Someone might have screamed, maybe both of them. A hefty warhammer slammed down on the creature, just as two of her daggers speared its carapace. It twitched, infinite legs curling, before remaining still.

An eerie silence filled the library. She tackled Red. “It worked!”

And then, things became a little…blurred. Granted, neither of them had slept in hours. But one moment, she was hugging him and the next, he had lifted her against the bookshelves and his mouth was on hers. Whoa. She’d considered it a couple times, that he had to be a great kisser, but she underestimated him…

When he pulled away, it was to press his forehead against hers and smile. A small part of her recalled the ‘Antiqua bedroom eyes’ gossiped about at school, but she didn’t know him well enough then to take the rumors seriously. If anything, people could have exaggerated more.

“Nice.” She managed to say, before blacking out.

As it turned out, one could get sick from staying up too late. She was feverish and indolent in bed for a few days, enduring plain broth and toast and the scenery from her window. After she recovered, she was on patrol again and upon turning a corner, noticed Red at the other end of a hallway. He was talking to some of the newbies, unaware of her presence. Instantly, she was reminded of what happened in the library, after they killed the centipede-thing. But then again, had it actually happened or had she already been sick at that point?

Slowly, she began to step back, plotting a detour in her route. She thought she was pretty good at being stealthy, but Caine suddenly rushed by, loudly greeting her.

“Shh!” She tried to hush him, but it was too late. Red had spotted her, and he pivoted, striding her way. A faint blush was spreading across his face; the kiss had definitely been real.

Oh, damn.

V. over a field of dead enemies / recovering after a battle

The last imp burst under pressure, viscous fluid spilling over the hilt of his dagger. Unceremoniously, he tossed it on top of its other fallen brethren. He shook off the blood and rolled his shoulders. The surrounding battlefield was littered with ice spikes and frozen corpses, and when he exhaled, his breath was visible. Despite his fatigued body, he grinned.

This was one of the best fights he’d ever been in.

He was running low, but he mustered the willpower to disinfect his hands and inspected himself for injuries. Nothing too concerning, and the worst wound at his ribs stung the most but it didn’t feel like anything internal had been damaged. He slapped on some liniment, the thick paste providing enough coverage until the Healers arrived.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned towards the direction of the approaching figure, tracking her fluttering braid and sleeves. Ayla lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey. You good?”

“I am, now that we’ve won.” Judging from the growing noise around them, the Shepherds had officially secured victory. Now, the tedium of taking stock of their losses and recuperating had begun.

She let out a low whistle. “You killed all of these?”

“Sure did.” The only Endarkened he tolerated was a dead one. And the more dead ones there were, the better off everyone was. He glanced at her, noticing a cut on her arm. Blood dyed the fabric a rusty brown. “Does that hurt?”

She shifted in place, failing to shield her wound from view. “It’s none of your concern, I can fix it. Later.”

“Let me see it.”

“What are you gonna do? Kiss it better?”

He rolled his eyes. “I have salve to spare…and only for Mages who admit when they’re banged up and too exhausted to summon the wind.”

“You’re such a dick, you know?” She grumbled but walked over, offering her arm. “Go ahead.”

He cleaned his hands again, certain it was the last he could do before taking a proper rest. Her injury was deeper than he initially thought. At his request, she tore the rest of her sleeve off and he tied the fabric into a makeshift tourniquet. She looked so slender, but he knew if he pointed it out, she’d prove how delicate she most certainly was not.

His line of thought came to an abrupt end when her voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. “Why do you keep doing this?”

He snorted. “What, tending wounds? Nah, I just know the basics and I don’t want to die from infection. Most of what I learned was common sense to my clan. Ask any Elf and you’ll see.”

“I meant being nice to me.”

“I thought you said I was a dick.”

“Well, that too. But you ultimately end up being kind. So, why?”

“Because I like you. Hey, watch it.” He intoned, dodging her hefty jade ornament.

“Me?! But, but you…said you like me? Like how?”

“How do you think?” And before she could throw another insult, he added. “I don’t know if I’d go to the opera with you-”

“Fat chance. That’s Riel’s thing.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “But I’d be happy doing whatever you want to, or if you can’t think of anything, I’d like to show you the places I’ve been. Just the two of us, when we can catch a break.”

“…as friends?” She cautiously asked.

“No, as a couple.” He met her amber gaze. “You’re fun to be with. Yeah, you can be prickly, but I like a woman who can stick up for herself. And deep down, you got a good heart. You remind me of this southern fruit I had one time-”

“A fruit?”

“Just hold on, will you? Anyway, this fruit is thorny on the outside, but sweet on the inside. Not too many people like it, but that’s fine, more for me and I don’t share.”

Her laugh was brisk. “Good, because I don’t either. But I’m a runner when it gets rough.” She warned.

“Then, it’s a good thing I’m stubborn enough to run after you. If you need time to think about it, I can be patient.” Over the years, he had propositioned and been propositioned many times, but this was different. Ayla was different.

“Promise not to be a dick so much?”

“I’ll try my best. And you always call me out on it, which I take seriously.”

She cracked a smile and looked down at her wound. The bleeding had stopped, and he was glad. “I decide pretty fast. So…I’m saying okay. Ack!”

Utterly happy, he had locked an arm around her waist and picked her up. His grin ached, and when he kissed her, he didn’t care who was watching.

VI. during sparring / fluster the other one into losing

The recruit slid backwards with a groan, admitting surrender. “Damn, you’re tough.”

“Just takes practice.” She said, helping xer up with one hand. “Your footwork could be better, but you can train blindfolded.”

“That works?”

“Sure it does.” The reply wasn’t her own, and she glanced aside to see Chase, leaning against the nearest wall. He pushed off with one foot, walking over with a grin. “If you know what you’re doing in the dark, that’s always useful.”

Ignoring the innuendo, she turned back to the recruit. “It makes you rely on your other senses. You might not think you’re improving at first, but give it a few weeks. Your muscles will remember.” Damn it, now he’s going to twist that too.

“Mm-hmm.” Chase hummed and she regretted looking at him. He was enjoying this way too much.

A group fresh off patrol passed by, and after a polite goodbye, the recruit hurriedly joined them. Alone in the training area with the thief, she set about restoring the equipment to their rightful places.

“I knew when I joined but you really are battle-hungry.” He remarked. “Everyone’s lining up to spar you.”

“It’s what I do best.” She shrugged. She had always been fighting, Father liked to say, from the morning he and Mother had found her furiously squalling on their doorstep. They wouldn’t be surprised over her current situation, with the Shepherds and testing her knuckles with child-snatching scum in back alleys. At least, she thought they wouldn’t. With each year, it was harder to tell and besides, there was no point in wondering. They were dead and gone, with the rest of Westwood. Bitterness sharpened her follow-up question.

“Are you asking if you want to spar with me now?”

“Little old me? Go toe to toe with a Battle-Mage?” He paused. “Yeah, I’ll bite.”

The rule was simple: first to hit the ground or surrender was the loser. No magic or weapons, but she was fine with discarding her bow. He shed a multitude of daggers from various pockets, and despite her mood, such a spectacle had always entertained her.

“No blindfolds too.” He suggested.

“Afraid you’d lose?”

“As good as they can be, it’s even better to see what’s happening.” Another insinuation, but this one wasn’t so easy to dismiss. Something about his tone, the undercurrent of intimacy.

Yeah, right. She shook it off, clearing her throat. “…I mean, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

Admittedly, Chase was probably the most agile opponent she had faced in a long time. Every time she’d think a blow would land, he’d be a breath away or a step out of reach. He couldn’t touch her either; for an excruciating period, they were at a standstill.

A chance appeared when one of his cartwheels led him close to a shadowed spot. Energy surged within her as she rushed up. Her forearm pinned him against the wall, her other fist stopping short of his temple. She was breathing heavily, stray wisps of hair escaping her bun and tickling her neck. “Caught you.”

His gaze darted back and forth between her hands, his short laugh more like a wheeze. “You did, so what’s next?”

“Really? If this was an actual fight, I could have done much worse by now.”

“But I haven’t lost, technically.” He leaned in, and there was nothing except the scent of his cologne and the warm press of lips.

What? What?!

Stunned, she snapped her head back, blood rushing to her face. His dilated green eyes watched her with amusement. Instinctively, she stepped away, but his foot was there, hooking and tripping her. Shit! She thought as she was airborne. The ground met her and judging by the points of pain across her body, her landing must have been undignified. The match was decided.

Chase ran his tongue over his lips. “Guess I win.”

“You cheated.” She darkly retorted.

“Funny. Was there a rule against distractions?” At her stubborn silence, his eyebrows lifted. “Never been kissed before?”

“Of course, I have.” Not since breaking up with her ex-girlfriend though, and certainly not in a combat scenario. Stop it, she told her erratic pulse as she stood and brushed herself off. This didn’t mean anything, he was only teasing her.

Just then, Blade called from an upper window, that they were having a meeting. Chase flashed him a thumbs-up of assent. Then, he returned to her with a strangely thoughtful expression, and she felt exposed. She tried not to shiver. The moment passed, and he gestured to let her walk ahead. “Come on, after you?”

“…Thanks.” She muttered, wiping dirt off her cheek and ignoring how warm her skin was. One of these days, she was going to get him back.

VII. sharing a cloak / patrolling the battlements

A gust of wind hit her in the face as she opened the door. “Oof, it’s cold.” The chill was one drawback to night patrol, but she liked being helpful and she usually didn’t need much sleep anyway. Heading out onto the battlement, she reflexively narrowed her eyes when the wind picked up again. She moved her tumbling hair out of the way, and the person she most wanted to see was standing a short distance away, looking out at the city. Behind him, another door closed as a figure retreated inside.

Smiling, she walked over. “Hi.”

Amidst the darkness, Trouble’s golden head was a bright beacon. Half a stick of charch was in his mouth, and he blew out smoke as he turned towards her. He waved and returned her expression. “Hey yourself. Too bad it’s freezing out here.”

“It is, I already miss the fireplace. Was that Tallys just now?”

“Yeah, she said she’s turning in, now that you’re taking over. So, you’re stuck with me for tonight.”

“I don’t mind.” She answered honestly. “I like patrolling with you. Were you watching something in particular?”

“Not really. I was thinking about stuff.” Uncharacteristically, he didn’t continue to share. He took another pull of his cigarette. “But anyway, let’s start moving. Gotta get the blood flowin’ in weather like this.”

She agreed and kept pace beside him. Occasionally, she glanced up only to find a blanket of dark clouds.

“Notice something?”

“No, it’s an old habit. My teacher navigated using the stars, and I liked trying to do the same, while I was on the road. But I haven’t seen any stars in Haven.”

“It’d be nice if we could, like when we were out on last week’s mission.” He wistfully said. “Speaking of which, how’s your gun working now?”

“Definitely improved.” She patted the pistol secured to her hip. “I never knew you could fix it like that.”

“It actually took me a few tries to get the technique right.” He began to excitedly discuss the intricacies of the inner mechanisms.

She listened attentively. To be honest, there was plenty she didn’t know about her weapon and was unable to ask until recently. Her father had been a soldier, but since he became mayor of their little town, he had never picked up a gun again. It would have been nice, to hear what he thought. He and her mother would have liked Trouble.

The wind swept through, this time from her side, and the full blast forced her to stop and brace herself. The aroma of charch and Trouble’s familiar scent of grass and leather filled her nose, while heavy warm cloth draped over her. One of his hands hung over her shoulder, tightly holding the edge of his cloak. Now that they were sharing, they were standing close, sides touching. His solid body radiated heat, and she resisted the urge to lean in.

“Wouldn’t want you getting sick.”

“Aw, but I haven’t been sick in a long time.” She joked. Nevertheless, she beamed at him. “You’re sweet. Thank you.”

He sheepishly grinned. “Heh. Feeling better?”

“Mm, much warmer.”

They continued on for a minute, before he slowed to a halt and addressed her. He spoke carefully. “I was talking to Tallys before you showed up.” He scratched the back of his neck, seemingly hesitant. “Basically, she called me a dumbass, but in her own way. She just thought I wasn’t noticing some things. Well, maybe I have all along, deep down. I wasn’t sure though, I’m not great with recognizing signs.”

“Trouble? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m rambling.” He squared his shoulders, his serious gaze trained on her. “Somehow, I’ve got it into my head that you like me.”

Ah. She never had any intention of being coy and was waiting for him to figure it out, but she still blushed. Thank the One-God her voice was steady. “You’re not wrong. I like you a lot. I was hoping we could be more than friends. But if you don’t want to, I won’t have any hard feelings.”

“No, I want to!” His immediate refusal sparked relief. “And I like you too. I’m, uh, not exactly used to it though. Being in a relationship.”

“Neither am I. But that’s okay, we can learn together.”

“Learning together sounds good.”

They stood like that for a few moments, happily taking each other in. Then, she pointed out. “You know, people typically kiss right about now.”

“Huh? Oh, true.” He visibly gulped. He tilted his head forward, stopped, slightly changed his angle, and stopped again. Steam was practically billowing from his red ears.

She laughed. “Here.” Slipping her arms around his neck, she met him exactly where they both wanted.

VIII. while one is injured / awakens some deep-buried feelings

Reaper’s down.

The message sent a chill through her, despite the blazing summer sun. She finished bandaging the wounded recruit in her care and swallowed. Can you give me the coordinates? I’m going to him.

Once the response came through, she ran out of cover and towards the group in the distance. All around, there were the sounds of gunshots, battle cries, and the screams of dying Endarkened. Fortunately, her path was clear, and without needing to draw her bow, she reached the portion of stone wall providing cover for the officers surrounding Halek. They stood, explaining the situation.

“We moved the Revenant body out of the way.”

“But he’s in bad shape.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Um…” It was difficult to reply confidently; her heart was pounding, her thoughts racing. “Keep the area clear while I heal him?” Her gaze fell upon a large hand, the matha nearly entirely obscured by blood, and she immediately knelt at his side. She barely registered the officers’ dispersal as she triaged him, focusing on what had to be done.

It wasn’t a secret among the Shepherds that they were close. Close friends, they insisted to anyone who would question their dynamic. He was engaged and had a duty to his people, while she didn’t know where she belonged. He felt confined in his role, a path that had been marked for him since he was born. He once said he envied her freedom, but she told him otherwise. She walked an uncertain line, between a culture that had loved and raised her with the awareness she’d outlive them all, and a virtually unknown bloodline she only knew through stolen books. It hurt to confess how tormented she was, but he didn’t seem to mind, asking her more thoughtful questions.

Perhaps, they found comfort in each other. It soon became typical for anyone searching for him to check her office first, and to send for her after one of his blood-rages. When Chase teased her for being too obvious, she had been scared to her core. She knew, all too well, how important Halek was to the Hunters and she wasn’t even a full-blooded one. No, she couldn’t feel anything more for him. But things would be so much easier if she could smile at him or gaze on his sleeping face without feeling a twinge of pain.

How long it took to heal him, she wasn’t sure. Fractured bones were set right, torn muscle repaired, and internal bleeding stopped. She held his face, murmuring the spell to bring someone back to consciousness.

He didn’t stir. Fear seized her, that she wasn’t capable at all, that he was gone forever. “Halek? Halek, wake up. Please, wake up!” She repeatedly called to him as she continued to cast, pushing the limits of her magic. Fatigue snuck up on her, dark spots floating in her vision. She had failed Maj, but she had to save him. With every second, it was harder to breathe.

Slowly, his gray eyes opened and he languidly blinked. She gave a strangled sob of relief. “You’re alive.”

“So are you.” His voice was hoarse, raw. A curse escaped him as he flexed his hand. He gripped her shoulder, firm but not painful. “Did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t. I’m fine.” She reassured.

He exhaled, the tension dissipating. Then, his hand slid to the back of her head and brought her mouth to his.

It was almost too much at first, and she didn’t know how to react. He kissed her with unexpected passion, a longing he must have buried deep down. All of the emotion he had contained was given to her, and she was reciprocating in full. She loved him. Hopelessly, helplessly loved him.

When the kiss ended, they were perfectly still, the world off center. Then, a distant explosion righted it again and she remembered the situation they were in. Her lips burned as she pressed them together and carefully leaned away from him. “We shouldn’t-” The rest of the sentence caught in her throat, blocked by the upwelling of guilt as well as shame in that she had wanted the kiss. And that she half wished he’d pull her in again.

But he didn’t. His touch relented, his fingertips running through the white streak at her left temple. Any desire had receded, the chieftain’s mask back in place. “I’m sorry.”

“…It’s alright.” That felt like a lie and she had never been good at lying. She let him go and dropped her gaze as they rose to their feet, the awkward silence between them suffocating.

When he said her name, she couldn’t resist looking up at him. He hesitated for a second before he promised.

“We’ll talk later.”

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

I finally finished the story inspired by this post, although this is probably going to burst into a whole new WIP idea.

When Ket feels Ada’s presence back in the world, he immediately hunts down where it’s coming from. The human witch had been a bitch in life, the demon certainly didn’t want to see what she could do as a free soul.

He tracks her down and starts laughing when he sees her.

Unintentionally or not, Ada has bound herself to a porcelain doll. A child’s toy. The cherry on top is that children had actually found her. The Chatwood siblings are easy prey. The eldest two, Lilac and Lynx, are teenage twins with opposing natures and argue too easily. The youngest, Fawn, is nothing more than a little girl.

Ket laughs and forgets that little children are perceptive.

He makes his entrance. Bleeds the world into a monochrome shadow while the kids are walking down the path. It’s good to exercise his power without Ada trying to punch him in the eye. He enters the scene with loud cackling and fire and stars, the whole shebang. Conning kids starts with a good show, after all. He isn’t disappointed by the reactions.

Lilac and Lynx are sharing frightened, confused looks, not sure how to react to this, but the prey animal parts of their brains are screaming to run. But both are shielding their little sister- not like it’s working. Fawn is glaring at him, angling Ada so she can glare as well. He introduces himself grandly, preparing-

“Ada sa...says not to trust him.”

And the show is crashing on the words of a stuttering little girl. Lilac turns to the littlest one here, Lynx keeping his eyes on him. Good strategy.

"Is he bad?"

"Y...y...yes." It takes her a few tries to get the word out. And while most people would assume the stutter is from fear, Ket can see the anger in her gaze. Ada has probably already filled her in. She takes a deep breath in, holds it for a minute, then lets it out. "He's a drama king-"

"Hey!"

She ignores him. "And a liar. And a demon." She speaks each word calmly and clearly, in an attempt to avoid stuttering. "Don't... don't make a deal with him. It's bad."

"Okay, so how do we get out?"

Fawn cranes her head, listening to Ada. Ket can't hear her, but it's clear that she can. She points in a random direction when she's done with her little powwow. "We...we-e're in a bubble."

"Okay, cool." Lynx turns with Fawn and Ada still glaring at him. He scoops up his little sister and they start walking.

"Wha- Hey, wait!" Ket starts following. "What about a deal?!" Even as he says it, he knows they'll refuse.

For now.

He waits them out and takes this opportunity to learn weaknesses.

Lynx and Lilac are easy. Thanks to the influence of teachers who thought they knew best and parents in a struggling marriage, they have been turned into the stereotypical twin set. Lynx is the popular sports player who slacks off. Lilac is the brainy loner who works a bit too hard. They argue because they have been divided and the other, in their eyes, outshines them, although they have been arguing less.

As for Fawn…

She's seven.

She's doing normal seven-year-old stuff. Like coloring and playing dress-up and baking. She's the one who talks to their grandmother Velma the most. She and Velma have tea parties together and watch TV, taking turns between soap operas and cartoons.

The three of them do spend time together. They like to go adventure in the woods, usually with a picnic.

Ada is always there though.

Weeks of watching pass before the first one breaks. Much to nobody's surprise, it's Lynx. He accidentally ruins Lilac's book and they dissolve into an argument. It’s a ‘meathead’ comment that sets him off and sends him running. He wants to be like Lilac- to have a future and not peak in high school like he believes he is. Ket only has to dangle those wishes to get Lynx to agree.

But Ket has forgotten an important fact.

Little children are perceptive. They haven’t had the years’ worth of forced ignorance like older kids and adults. 

So when Fawn sees her brother grinning at her, forcefully polite in his request to see Ada, she realizes everything wrong. She stammers out an excuse, edging out of the room, before running for Lilac. Ket realizes too late. Fawn hides in the attic and Lilac leads him in a cat and mouse game, only to hit him over the head with a frying pan.

In pain, Ket calls off the deal and leaves the body so Lynx can take it back.

He’s left to wait for his next opportunity, watching even more.

Lilac helps Lynx finds a balance between sports and studying, even though it’s summer. Fawn encouraged her and him to talk it out- oh.

Oh.

Isn’t this interesting?

Ket shelves the information away and waits for his next opportunity. And, because it’s honestly funny, he pops in every now and then. Keep them on their feet.

It’s Lilac, next. She finds out that her GPA is a point too low to allow her into her dream school. She stresses herself out, furiously trying to find some solution. She avoids sleep and burns herself low and late into the night. She makes the deal with an exhausted sigh.

It’s funny how neither of them expected him to abuse the loopholes.

He possesses Lilac. Learning from last time, he locks Fawn in her room before she can start screaming. Drunk off of the victory, he grabs Ada and hurries downstairs to build a fire in the fireplace, Lilac desperately pleading all the way. Lynx interrupts and puts two and two together when he sees the fire in the middle of the day and Ada without Fawn.

He grabs Ada and leads Ket in a chase around the house. Lilac’s body is exhausted and all too easy to crash. He calls off the deal again. Annoyed and tired, he watches as Lynx comforts Lilac and the two comfort the sobbing Fawn, scared out of her mind the entire possession.

Ada is scared too.

He can sense it.

It takes even longer to wait. This time, he makes sure to not show up to relax them. It's a rainy week when he finally gets his chance. Both of the twins are on edge for some reason or another and it makes them snap at each other. Fawn is tired of them fighting.

He shows up once before, catches her off guard and without Ada. He makes a show out of his power. Fawn refuses, of course. He was expecting it, of course. Little children are made of sterner stuff. But they’re still human.

The next day, Lynx and Lilac have the mother of all arguments. Fawn bursts into tears when they say that they hate each other and runs upstairs. Ada tries to comfort her but she throws the doll on her bed before hiding upstairs. Ket finds her.

“G-Go...go away.”

“I can make them stop, kid.”

It takes only a bit more pushing for Fawn to agree. He’s not sure why she’s so surprised when he possesses her. Learning from experience, he locks her deep within her own mind. Ada howls at him when he comes in.

He scurries out the front door and hurries to the town lake, far from the cabin where Velma lives. It’s sunset when he gets there. Lilac and Lynx are not as wise, it’ll take them a while to figure it out. And it’ll be too late. Ada screams desperately for Fawn, Fawn screams desperately for Ada.

That doesn’t stop him from summoning a flame.

Ada is left a wreck of burnt china and smoldering fabric, the ghost forcefully pushed to the other side. Fawn sobs from inside her mind. “Well, that’s done,” Ket says cheerfully. “Pleasure doing business with you, kid.” Loud yells alert him to the calvary finally arriving. “Well, looks like time’s up!”

He leaves.

He doesn’t call the deal off.

Lynx and Lilac find Fawn unconscious on the beach. She wakes up and sobs out apologues. The older two try to calm her. They also try their best to ignore the wreck of a doll a few feet away.

The Chatwood siblings bury Ada on the beach. They stay out for the rest of their summer. They go home.

Ket can’t help but watch. His deal with Fawn allows him a front-row seat into her mind. She has nightmares and never forgets about him. How sweet!

It also allows him, years later, to find out that she’s back.

“Hello, Fawn,” he says, early twenties Fawn scrabbling desperately at the hand around her throat. “I’ve missed you.”

[writers-hes]

meet-cute / fluff !

thank you so much for your support on my first ever fanfic! i really had such a great time writing it and i will be updating the second part of it soon. for now, please enjoy this super fluffy fic!

WARNING: UNEDITED !

word count: 3596

in which y/n and harry meets for the first time and can’t seem to get enough if each other

“lou, do i really have to go?” you ask. your sister and lou teasdale have been great friends, immediately clicking it off in middle school. the both of them never lost contact and you were glad that they didn’t because you considered her as an older sister and you knew that she treated you like her younger sister.

“of course you do! your parents entrusted you to me and i have to keep my promise that i will look over for the night.” she chuckles. you roll your eyes. you were twenty for christ’s sake and the last thing you needed was a baby sitter. your parents have always been strict, not allowing you to date till you finish your studies. sure, you had a few short-term relationships here and there. it was all part of growing up but even so, you didn’t let your parents know about them.

lou sensed your annoyance. she felt sorry for you, not experiencing the things that kids in your age should. you should be out, getting wasted and experiencing youth but you were stuck with her. “tell you what, you don’t have to come to the backstage with me. i’ll let you stay in my hotel room and you can order room service or pizza. my treat.” she says.

“will lux be there with me?” you ask, talking about lou’s adorable little girl.

“sure. i needed someone to take care of lux anyway. she’s been losing sleep layely because if the loudness in concerts.” she replies. poor girl.

“where is she anyway?” you ask. you were outside with lou, eating breakfast a block away from their hotel and it was so unusual for lux not to be joined in her hip.

“she spent the night with harry. said its been a while since he last saw the little girl,”

harry styles. out of all the members of the boy band, the person you still haven’t met yet is harry. lou speaks of the young kad fondly, telling stories about how funny and gentlemanly he is. you’ve met everybody twice, in end-of-tour parties in one of their fancy houses (with your sister by your side and your parents’ permission, of course.) still, harry would always arrive late and you’ll always leave early, not really caring for the party itself. you were just there to support lou, anyway.

“oh, what time will you leave for the arena?” you ask.

“noon-time. which reminds me, we should get going!” she exclaims, wiping off the crumbs of the sandwich she just finished. you nodded drank the last of your hot cocoa. the two of you walk side by side to the hotel. “have you ket harry before?” she asks. you shake your head no and explain what happens during the parties.

“ah, well that’s such a shame! you will absolutely love him, i promise,” you nod, not really caring that you were about to meet the harry styles—your personal favourite from the band. you were excited to see lux.

you arrive at the hotel, finally. you were so excited to see lux. “hey, why don’t you go ahead and take lux from harry? his room is 1723 and take her to my room, 1735. i’ll just go get ready and take a shower.” she says. you nod and tread your way to 1723.

you knock once you arrive, not noticing the doorbell right beside the door.

“stay there, luxy! i’ll just see who’s at the door.” you hear from the outside. you blush, anxious to finally meet harry. you hear shuffling as you anticipate the door to open.

“hey, i’m here to get lu—“

“uh, who are you?” he asks, a little rudely. you frown but immediately get over it. he doesn’t know you and was probably just looking out for lux.

“name is (y/n) and i’m here to take lux...lou told me that she spent the night with you.” you told him.

“uncle harry!” you hear lux from the inside. you smile at her cute little voice. “who’s there?” you hear her ask as her head poked from the door. you watch her face light up.

“auntie (y/n)!” she squeals. she ducks under harry’s arm to run towards you.

“lux, i’ve missed you so much!” you say, crouching down to her height and opening your arms to hug her. you see that she was wearing the winnie the pooh pyjama set you gave her and smiled even wider.

“i see you watched pooh without me...” you fake-pout, making lux giggle and hug you even tighter.

meanwhile, harry is leaning on the door frame in awe as he watch you interact with lux. he suddenly felt guilty for being so rude when you first met. he was just being protective of lux.

“y/n, is it?” he suddenly asks. you turn to him and nod curtly, still a little annoyed at how he treated you earlier. “i’m sorry about earlier...thought you were someone else...lou didn’t tell me someone else was coming to get her.”

you picked up lux and stood up.

“s’okay,” you smiled. now that harry apologized he didn’t seem as bad.

“hey, do you wanna go in? i’ll just prepare her stuff in her bag.” he offers. you told him that you were going in so he pulled the space of the door a little more and let you in. “so, how come we’ve never met before? you seem to know the atkins well.” he asks you as he cleans up the little girl’s mess.

“ah, well, i suppose our paths never crossed. i met niall, liam, zayn, and louis twice in your end-of-tour parties.” you say. “you were always late and i always happen to leave earlier.” you let go of lux once you sat on the couch of the grand hotel room.

“uncle har, up!” lux said, making grabby hands for her to be picked up by harry. he looks at you, as if asking if it was alright if he picked up lux first.

“it’s alright. i’ll clean up,” you offer. he smiles at you thankfully and picks up the little girl who’s been asking for attention since the two of you met.

“if you don’t mind me asking, how come you’re here?”

“my parents asked lou if she could ‘babysit’ me…” a little embarrassed that you’re saying this to the man who travelled the world.

“wait--how old are you?”

“i’m 20...my parents are out of the country and luckily, you guys are here so they asked lou if i could tag along. it would’ve been okay to not have someone guard for me if they were out of town,” you grumbled.

harry chuckles. “so, you attend uni then?”

“yeah, i’m currently majoring in political science and minoring in creative writing…”

“you liking it so far?” he asks, slowly rocking lux back and forth, making her extra sleepy.

“yeah. i really love comparative politics and seeing all the different patterns in different political landscapes. did you know that changing the appearance of money causes the economies of different countries to go down? i love studying about political theories by calvin, plato, machiavelli…” you gush. you suddenly stop. “i’m sorry, i’m probably boring you with all the academic talk.”

harry sets lux back to the bed. “no, it’s alright. tell me more about uni! you know, i originally planned to be a lawyer if i didn’t join the x factor. about political science and creative writing, may i please know more?” he asks, plopping himself beside you on the couch.

“well...what do you want to know? i’m still in sophomore so i really don’t know much.”

“you know more than i do and that’s enough for me. ah! look at me, being so rude. i didn’t even offer you a drink. do you want anything? water? juice?”

“water’s fine, thanks.” you watch as he stand up and retrieve a bottle of fiji water from the fridge. fancy.

“so...creative writing? do you think i can get you to read some of my poems and snippets of songs sometime? i need a professional’s opinion…”

“hey! i told you i don’t really know much yet, harry.” you chuckle. harry smiles. it was his first time hearing his name roll of from your lips and he likes it. he really likes it.

“and i said that it’s okay. you probably know more than i do anyway. how about this, let’s go out tonight after the show. we can hang around somewhere, maybe even here. you read my writing and criticise it. if you don’t like it, you have the power to make me do one silly thing. if you like it, i’ll take you to a date.” harry didn’t know if he was shotting his shot here but his smile became even wider when you said sure.

“alright. what time do you want to meet up?” you ask.

“i’m free midnight. do you know anything open by that time?”

“well, there’s a nice coffee shop that sort of serves like a flower market near the hotel. nobody’s really there because it’s hidden but we can go there if you like.”

“deal. i’ll pick you up at lou’s room and then we can go.”

you really like harry. he was so warm and humble. he listened to you while you ramble about politics. you obviously loved your course and he could see that. throughout your conversation, you could feel warmth radiate through your body, not knowing that that was how he felt too.  

---

“looks like you’ve spent the whole morning with my little sister, huh, harry?” lou teased while blow-drying his hair.

“yeah...quite lovely, isn’t she?” he mutters, blushing a little bit.

“oi, niall! someone here got a crush!” liam teases. harry blushed a little bit more, his whole face was red. the lads looked at him funnily. it’s been awhile since harry had a crush on a girl. sure, there were a few flings but those either didn’t work out well because of his busy schedule or because it was for publicity.

“who’s he crushin on?” louis asks.

“you know my friends’s sister, y/n?” lou replies, finishing up harry’s braids.

“oh, pretty girl. she’s super smart too.” zayn comments.

“yeah, m’taking her out tonight…” harry mumbles. he felt like he was back in high school crushing on a girl.

“you didn’t even ask me, oi! i’m her guardian tonight,”

“fine! may i take her out then?” harry asks. why can’t these people let him be? it was just a little crush.

“alright. just make sure to be back before the sun comes up. no funny business, haz. or else.” lou threatens. harry nods while the boys look at each other. it was so unlike harry to have a crush on a girl the first time meeting her. still, they couldn’t deny that y/n was a lovely girl. she was very polite and was well-raised. she was exactly harry’s type.

---

harry felt guilty. he was running late. it was almost 1 a.m. and he still wasn’t at the hotel. the concert ended a few minutes early and harry immediately left after the meet and greet with some fans. he still had about thirty minutes to spare before twelve. he asked his driver to drive around the area in hopes to find flowers for her. in the end, he only got her red and white floating balloons from a liquor store.

once he arrived at the hotel, he ran to the special elevator and jogged to where you were. you were sitting on lou’s bed as she put your hair up in a high ponytail.

“now, love, i know harry’s very attractive and very kind but don’t you forget to come home before the sun comes up. your parents will pick you up here tomorrow noon and you can’t look like you’ve been out dating a popstar. you know what will happen if they find out.” lou warns. you nod absentmindedly. you couldn’t wait till harry arrives. he’s been on your mind since you parted. was he alright? how was the concert? did he enjoy performing? you’ve never really been to their show, finding no time because you were always busy with coursework.

knock, knock, knock.

three hasty knocks were heard and you know it was harry. you immediately zoom your way to the door to find harry holding red and white balloons.

“hey, harry. what are the balloons for?” you ask.

“well, i’ve been looking for an open flower shop around the area since i left the arena but i couldn’t find any. so, i got you red and white balloons from a liquor store instead. just think of them as red and white roses…” he offers you the balloons and you take it from him. lou was smiling in the background, feeling as if she was watching two awkward highschoolers go out on their first date.

“thanks. i love them.” you say. “lou? is it alright if i tie the balloons on the door knob?”

“yeah but lux will play with that once she sees it tomorrow…”

“it’s alright. lux and i can play with it together.” you tie the balloons on the doorknob as harry waits outside. “hey, harry? are you ready to go?” harry nods and offers you his hand. you take it as he bids goodbye to lou from inside the hotel room.

“hey, i hope it’s okay for lux to play with the balloons you gave tomorrow.” you start. you were walking arm in arm down the hallway of the fancy hotel.

“it’s alright. i’m glad that you’re willing to share it with luxie. it’s really cute how you interact with her,” he replies. he was looking really good tonight--even better than how he did in the morning. he was wearing a white britney spears t-shirt, straight cut denim, white socks, and old school black vans. he was also wearing black nail polish on his ridiculously pretty hands adorned with rings and a small gucci pouch that he tucked on his other arm. “so, love, where are you taking me?”

“well, it’s this small flower-slash-coffee shop downtown. we can walk there if you’d like,” you say. he nods in agreement as he unconsciously pulls you closer. “hey, harry?”

“hm?”

“you look really good tonight.” you both blush at your words.

“hey, you look even prettier than i do!” he gushes. you say thanks and look the other way. your face was so red. “let’s walk there, yeah? i’d love to spend more time with you and i feel like if we use the car, we’ll just tire out the driver,”

you nod, in awe at how he just said that so confidently.

--

you arrive at the small coffee shop. flora it read. this was your favourite coffee shop in the whole town. you loved how rustic everything felt--from the white walls to the flowers scattered all over the place. you loved how the smell of coffee and flowers are all mixed in the air.

“wow, this is beautiful.” harry comments. there was no place like this was. flora was so beautiful with the string lights hung from the ceiling. even though the coffee shop is empty, it still somehow felt comforting. “how did you find this place, love?”

“well, once i graduated from high school, i had the mission to drink something from every coffee shop in the area. i guess i was also looking for the best cup of coffee at the best price. coffee here is quite out of my budget. this place, though, it has the best coffee and it’s also quite cheap.” you tell him truthfully. you walked, still arm in arm, to the counter.

“hey! what can i get you today?” the barista asks.

“hey. i’ll get the cookie cream milkshake, please. also, please add a shot of espresso,” you tell him. it was your usual order. “what about you, harry?”

“oh, no. i’ll pay for this, y/n. i was the one who asked you to read my writings and critique them,”

“but--”

“no buts, sorry. hey, may i get a large homemade milk tea, please?” he says and before you could even take out your money, he slides his credit card to the barista. “take something for your tip, too.”

the barista smiles at him gratefully.

“you know, i have to pay you back, harry.” you grumble, making your way to one of the corner seats of the coffee shop.

“no! take that as an apology for the shitty balloons and for being late...also as a payment for the time you’ll be spending tonight. okay?” he protested.

“but i don’t think that the balloons were shitty...i think they’re pretty sweet.”

“okay....why don’t you spend your money on dessert and we will call it even.” he offered.

you smiled and immediately went back to the barista, asking for a honey almond toast with extra whip--your personal favourite.

“thanks. i will just serve your orders once they’re ready since there’s no one else here.” the barista says right before you turn and go back to where you sat.

“so...here’s my journal. read whatever you like. some of them are bits of song lyrics that i have yet to finish. or maybe i’m not gonna finish them.” he shyly slides a leatherbound journal towards you. he watches as you pick it up gently. “i really wanna hear about your opinions on them...we can even edit it together or write something together!”

you chuckle at his excitement. “here. this is my journal. some writings that inspired me for some of my papers. it’s a little bit all over the place. political papers, some emotional, and also some rubbish. i figured, since i will be knowing lots about you tonight, you should also know about me. i mean, if you want to…”

harry smiles at you widely and gratefully takes your journal from your hands.

the barista arrives and sets down the toast and your drinks.

“whoa, this toast! i’ve never seen one of these before.” the toast lays in its glory. thick, golden brown, and syrupy.

“yeah, take a bite! it’s one of my favourite things to eat.” you say. you offer him a forkful of the toast with some of the whip cream and watch him take a bite as you feed it to him. the both of you blush at the interaction.

“this is really good. what is this called?”

“honey almond toast. it usually has lesser whip cream but i really love how it mellows down the sweetness. wanna try my milkshake?” you ask. you give him the glass of sweetness and watch him drink from your straw.

“hey, this is also delicious. taste my milk tea?” you nod and reach for his cup. it was also delicious.

“look at us. meeting for the first time and already sharing each others’ drinks! how chummy.” he teases. you chuckle at his comment. you open his journal and he opens yours.

sweet creature had another talk about where it's going wrong but we're still young we don't know where we're going but we know where we belong

wow. he thought to himself. it was a four line poem of something but it was so good. so, so, good.

just let me know i'll be at the door, at the door

hoping you'll come around

just let me know i'll be on the floor, on the floor

maybe we'll work it out

i gotta get better, gotta get better

i gotta get better, gotta get better

i gotta get better, gotta get better

and maybe we'll work it out

“you wrote this?” you ask. you’ve been flipping the pages, so immersed with his writings.

“y-yeah…?” he replies. he was afraid that you wouldn’t like it. “it’s actually a little song...haven’t finished it yet but i sorta like the flow.”

“it’s brilliant! may i suggest something?” you ask. he nods. “um, well, it seems to me as if this is about someone leaving yes? if this is a song...i think it’s nice if you make it about someone you want to meet again. you know? like, let’s escape together. meet me in five…meet me to where we used to be...in the hallway?”

“i really like hallway...makes it sound more intimate and secretive.”

“here, write it on this page.” you move a beside him, arms touching, and point to a blank space right before what he originally has written. you watch as his boyish handwriting fill up the space. damn, this man is so beautiful and everything that comes out of him is even more beautiful.

“what about that?” he asks. you nod in approval. really loving what he got so far. “i really like your piece on this sweet creature. love the way it’s titled and written. are you planning to finish it?”

“y-yeah...just don’t have the motivation to write. politics has drained the life out of me,” you chuckle.

harry hopes you could write sweet creature soon. harry hopes to be the sweet creature you speak of so fondly.

// end of part one //

[claihn]

A Siren’s Secret [Pt. 2]

The click of her booted heels against the wooden floor echoed across the empty basement. All of the plants that had once dominated the entire room like a miniature world away were now gone. She’d sold them or given them away and now the room had little else to give it character save for a bedroll, a minuscule dresser, a few boxes and some dents in the walls.

Her apothecary had been returned to Vincint or rather, the building and land that she had borrowed in his name were now his again. His shocked expression hadn’t surprised her, but the undercurrent of anger was palpable. He knew Ket’s name now and attributed a lot of the changes towards him or the incident. Incidents? It blurred together sometimes. She knew he was mistaken and even more so, it simply didn’t matter at all. None of it truly did. She’d trapped herself in a cage and then slipped through only to create a new one in the Beds. The old greenery still had the front floor masquerading as some sort of florist’s haven, but the basement she planned to make into a home.

It wouldn’t be grand by any nature given the age of the building and how small or downgraded it would be compared to the shop in Shirogane. She couldn’t stand to look at the apothecary now though or the ocean that she both loved and hated through its windows. It had always mocked her with the sweet song of the waves that she dearly enjoyed and some part of her ached to dance along the beach in the early or late hours when there weren’t eyes about. Maybe she wouldn't be able to stay away for long. That's how such dangers and past habits were for her. For now though, she had to abandon it.

In truth, the peace of the Lavender Beds was a surprise. She had expected to be found even in her new little hideaway. A demanding pounding on the door or the cocky, smug voice of the cat she hated just as much as the ocean. The memory of him blathering out her personal secrets in front of the other woman still made her teeth clench and her blood go hot. He had been different and while she was loathe to speak about anything intimate in front of a stranger, she had picked up on it in silence. It was more than just the hair- he was swaying like the tides themselves again. Otherwise he would have known that such a demand would never work on her. It was enough to almost make Mana laugh. As weak and pathetic as she was, somehow the Raen still clung to a semblance of strength in her own stubbornness. He was far from an idiot too- something had been off. Just like after their return from Ishgard or maybe it was just another broken fragment. Did he even remember Tsuki's room? Mana still remembered her words and-

“Not that it matters now.”

Mana commented out loud as she marched across the floor. The footsteps echoed louder than she would have liked because they punctuated the isolation. She reached the faded ivory dresser- the first piece of furniture for her basement. Opening the drawer there were two envelopes sealed with blue wax sitting atop of the organized mess of vials, jars, trinkets and stones. Two envelopes meant for the same man, but containing two different messages entirely. One with a bullet and one with a piece of broken wood. Mana’s watery hues stared at them dispassionately before she cracked and dipped her head down to laugh underneath her breath. I want to see you break. You’re interesting.

“Idiot.” Mana's melodic laughter ended with a quick suck of breath as she took the envelopes and then ripped them both in half. What good did words ever do? She tucked them into the back pocket of the worn leather pants and instead plucked up one of her snowy white sea-worn rocks. Her eyes scrutinized over it and then she nodded, clutching it between her fingers. Mana couldn't help but let out a defeated sigh while she walked towards the stairs with a natural sway of her hips.

“I don’t hate you.” The whispered words fumbled past her lips before she realized what exactly she'd been thinking, which only made the Raen shake her head at herself. I would have helped. She sighed, but there was a weight upon her shoulders that dug claws into the knots that had built up inside. She had been leery about her trip because of it, but when the only obstacles were her hired hands and looters? An epiphany had struck her. One that she knew should have made her happy, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile. The weight doubled until she forced herself to lump all the experiences and memories in with the rest.

The Siren. Ultimately that was a fate she would never escape. Those along her path had been ruined if they hadn’t fled, and they had been good people and far better than herself. Maybe that’s why she had consorted to dancing with devils and demons? Monsters and wolves? Mana reached the outside door and found her nails digging into the handle for a moment as she clenched her teeth.

Even the monsters leave you. Just like everything else.

“I’m far too busy for stupid thoughts!” Mana lied to herself, speaking aloud to the air when she stepped through the doorway of her home and all but slammed it behind her.

The night air of the Lavender Beds greeted her with the fresh scent of a past rain and a chorus of bugs chirping their pleasantries. Naturally she stood up straighter and walked with forced purpose, ducking under the archway and across the path towards a large river. It wasn’t until she reached the edge where the boat had dropped her off that she stopped just before stepping into the waters themselves. A dark, almost black wooden box was waiting for her where she had set it down beneath the shadow of a tree teetering upon the edge of the shoreline.

What was inside of the box had been found by accident. Mana had heard rumors of a shipwreck among one of the uninhabited islands in the tropical waters of La Noscea. The wreck itself had been described in such a way that it bore into her mind as incredibly similar to the old ship that belonged to her father. The very ship that had been stolen from her in the wake of the storm. It had driven her into urgency and turbulence.

She had gone out of her way, shrouded in a cloak, to hire Landrenel Triluveux. His rumored reputation she had overheard in Ishgard, ironically enough, and while she hardly trusted mercenaries, let alone those in the Mist, she knew she had to push herself out of her comforts. He was a fighter- a survivor- that she had no true connections or sympathies towards. A perfect individual to take with as insurance in case a vengeful party came to make true on their threats and perhaps, deep down, she was hoping for future business.

Mana had also ventured to hire Noah Kelten, the very man who entangled her into a deeper mess of misunderstandings and problems. At least she had the satisfaction of being let into his home while he was away and drinking his tea. Yet there was no denying his expertise with investigations and who better to bring along that someone you can trust to be completely blunt without care for your feelings? Then of course there had been Yuti Kyis for her healing expertise, because Mana wanted to be prepared for the worst and Vincint Venator because he’d already promised to shoot anyone who’d come around for trouble. Although they had been reluctantly brought with, but in her haste she couldn't afford to find more distant connections.

She had tried to keep the entire venture rather business-like and without any feelings, which was easier to do when they discovered the ship wasn’t her father’s at all. That had been an utter disappointment and on top of it, they’d merely been attacked by a few looters. The thought made Mana laugh- she’d been disappointed it was only them that awaited her party. Although, an ill-timed explosion had Vincint shooting it off near Noah, who in turn seemed to retaliate with a fire spell that was close enough to burn the gunner. As if the irritable pair needed another reason to dislike each other. Thankfully Yuti’s healing and Landrenel's cool head kept things from spiraling into an actual brawl, although Mana tried to keep things diplomatic by tending to Noah while Miss Kyis treated Vincint’s wounds. That only pissed off Mister Venator and she never heard the end of that along with many choking-filled comments on the return trip.

Despite it all though, a surprise came from Yuti's discovery that led them to the pair of old chakrams.  They had been stowed away deep enough within the ship that the weapons washed ashore with the debris. They'd nearly given Noah a shock when he had tried to handle them and even Vincint felt an eerie sensation that was enough to give them a respectable berth.

Still at the edge of the water, Mana drew in a slow breath as she crouched down and picked up the smooth wooden box. It stored the pair of weapons currently. The inside had a crystal interior that she had used before to handle volatile goods that were sensitive to aetherical surroundings. It perhaps did nothing, but it didn't hurt to try to be a bit safer.

Regardless, this was her new purpose now. The lie wanted her to say it was because they were a mystery and if she unraveled it, then perhaps she could use it to pay off her debts. The truth though was much simpler and selfish. The pair of chakrams, old and tormented by time and sea, could not be touched by anyone that she had found yet. Except for her. The reason was almost laughable too. It was because of her weakness. The accident long ago that led her to give up her magic, her health and many dreams, now was the single reason that she could touch these weapons. Mister Kelten thought it was perhaps by design, but Mana was skeptical. Her gut told her, deep down, that they were like her.

Cursed.

“I'm so tired.”  Mana whispered the words to the night air as she hugged the box to her chest. It was rather large and unwieldy in her arms, but even through the wood some part of her felt as if she could feel that familiar sensation that they gave her whenever she took them in hand. Understanding. An inkling of some missing piece being filled. Even the subtlest touch of pleasure and pride. She'd always outwardly portrayed herself a confident creature, but the weapons affirmed the possibility of it being a true reality.

“I'm done trying to hope that these broken pieces will mend and I'm not going to believe that anyone will ever be different. Least of all myself.”  She looked up through the canopy and saw the glittering stars attempting to peak through the clouds that had long since cast their rain. Of course it was all still buried inside of her- the loneliness, the sting of disappointments, betrayals, echoes of aches and pains and by the Twelve, the memories too. Her scarred feet itched at the mere thought of it all, but she was done trying to cover it up. She was done pretending that she could overcome it if she simply worked hard and played nice and survived.

They called her the Siren and she had always hated it, denied it and swore at it. They said she was a harbinger of bad luck and she'd cried, refused and kept trying to defy it. They said she was the reason for the storm and the thief and she couldn't clean the bloodstains from her hands. She'd worked so hard to go against all those words and in the end she had... what?

Nothing.

Everything she desperately attempted to grasp fell through her fingers like the very ocean itself. A part of her wondered if this was some sort of breaking point, but that was laughable. One couldn't break something that had never been fixed. No. It was finding something else that was cursed and being told what it was supposed to be that made the picture clearer. It was the empty basement and the audible click of her heels. It was the scars that left traces or the way her throat hurt when she swallowed once and awhile.

She wasn't going to escape these pains. No one is going to help save you. It was time to stop hoping, stop running and accept it. Accept what you are. If they believed she was some unlucky Siren bringing forth a storm? Cursed. Then she'd gladly ruin them all.

“What are you doing?”  A familiar voice rang out behind Mana as she blinked and snapped her gaze away from the sky. She whirled around and nearly fell into the water, catching herself by trained grace alone. Her grip on the box tightened a little, knuckles turning white before she drew in a breath and offered them a gentle smile. “Just saying goodbye.” “Oh? Goodbye to who?” Mana paused and turned to look over her shoulder at the water that started to gleam with the growing blanket of stars. Her tail twitched briefly in the air and she caught herself biting her lip, which only brought the gentle curve of a smile with a thought of how she was often scolded for it. “Just another mask.” And another me.

[[ Not a huge fan of my writing here, but I had to drabble it out before shifting gears!  Mentions to @ketsuchikotetsu , @crystal-high-jinks , @forthepursuitofknowledge , @yutikyis & Vin (no tumblr). You all rock! ]]