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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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Roses Are Red (Gardener TAEYONG au)

a/n : hey I got this prompt from @dailyau ! I tried my best writing this, but I know it’s not the best, Apparently @prettydeadlykpop excitedly jump into my dm and said Taeyong suits the scenario well.

warning : none, fluff!

here we goo....

You groan when your mother knocks on your door this early Saturday. Gosh, come on doesn’t she know that you want to sleep in on weekend? College has been tiring and you wish to sleep for three more hours. It’s only nine, and who wakes up at nine on a Saturday?

“(Y/N)! Wake up! I am so sorry, but I have to wake you up today. I promise it’s only this Saturday.” She ruses into your room and kisses you a good morning. You wipe her lipstick stain on your cheek and squirm as the sun shine penetrates into your room the second mom opens the curtain up for you.

“I have to rush and attend your uncle’s boutique grand opening, please look after the gardener for me.” She explains what she has to do and what you have to do.

“Yeah yeah, you told me thousands of times. I just have to watch over the gardener to plant us roses right? What color is it again? Red.” You try to collect your soul as you close your eyes one more time and almost fall asleep.

Mom is faster, she coughs “Red roses, in the indoor garden not the one outside! Plus you would want to shower before he comes.” She rubs your hair lovingly.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you on the other week end. Just watch over him for me! Wake up!” she forces you to leave the bed and you lazily take your eye glasses and walk to close the door for her.

You glance to the clock in the dining room, it’s only half past nine and mom scheduled the gardener to come at ten. You have thirty minutes to tidy up your self and much some breakfast.

You’re not the type to slumber around when you’re awake already, so you take your towel and take a warm morning shower.

Once the bathroom is open, warm air gushes to your room as you pick yourself an outfit for today. You internally slap yourself for forgetting to do the laundry and ending up with only one oversized sweater belonging to your brother who left to study abroad, and a short.

“This will do I guess.” You say as you watch yourself in the mirror. “Sorry mom, got no other clothes! I am still wearing a pants.” You chuckle when you see your reflection in the mirror.

After putting your clothes on, you change your glasses with a pair of contact lenses, just because you feel more confident with them. You brush your golden hair and force a smile before dashing to the kitchen to tame your growling tummy.

Your choice for a quick breakfast is cereal with cold milk. While your hand scrolls through the social media, your brother video-calls you.

“Hey! Isn’t this too early for you to be up?” he questions you. He lives in the other side of the world, so it’s almost night for him.

You roll your eyes “Mom made me watch over the gardener today. If only you were here Jae, I’d be sleeping in and you will look after them.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “Have you ever meet the gardener?”

You shake your head “Nah, is this the one we always call?”

Jaehyun nods “If the name is Taeyong, then yes. Other than that I don’t know. I once watched Taeyong planted the butterfly pea for us. He’s nice.”

You finish your cereal lazily, while talking about other things instead of flowers and gardening. Jaehyun loves flower more than you, you are more of an adventure and water person.

The bell rings and Jaehyun’s smile appears. More like a smirk, as if he knows what will happen.

“Okay, guess that is him. Go take the door and I’ll call you later, bye!” Jaehyun disappears like that. You find it weird, couldn’t your brother just stay in the call in case things go awkward between you and the gardener?

Once you open the door, you freeze in track (ty track) and you grit your teeth when you understand why Jaehyun left you.

“Morning!” the tall man with fluffy brown hair greets you with a sweet smile. Could he possibly knock on the wrong door? Is this your mother’s gardener?

You have to shake yourself back to reality, and make your fist into a ball as you try your best to not stutter “Morning! Are you here to plant roses?”

You want to run and hide your red face right now, come on who greets someone like that. But judging by his white tee, straw hat, and that typical jeans jumper, he radiates a gardening energy.

The man just chuckles and moves a bag from one hand to another, “Yes, your mother told me you will be the one watching over me today. I’m Taeyong.” He extends his arm and you’re glad your cognitive neurons are fast enough to reach and shake his back.

“(y/n), nice to meet you.” You smile. You’ve taken control of your wild mind, your heart is beating (like any other living being, just faster) and you let him inside.

“So, she wanted me to plant red roses in the indoor garden, can you lead me there?” he asks once he gets into the house and you’ve closed the front door and lock them.

You nod your head, suddenly feeling silly for even being nervous. He’s just here to plant roses not to date you or meet your parents!

“Yes, sure. I didn’t know where specifically she wants, but since she left me no notes, I guess she wanted you to find the best spot.” You explain while leading him to the indoor garden next to your dining room.

Taeyong examines the green space and his face lights up in a different way when he sees the flowers. “Your mom does take a good care of plants! Okay, I will start planting.”

You just stand there behind him and realize that must feel uncomfortable for him.

“Taeyong-shi, sorry for bothering… have you had breakfast? Do you want tea or coffee?” you feel proud you remember this welcoming manner you learned from your mom since eleven.

Taeyong looks over his shoulder to you, make a quick look over your head to toe and smiles “Thank you, just a cup of coffee and water will do good.”

You quickly nod and leave him as if you’re a waitress working a shift. As you pass a mirror in the kitchen you realize your attire and you blush when you remember him checking over you.

As you wait for the water to boil, your hand fiddles with the keyboard and you lowkey rant to your brother.

“How come no one ever tells me the gardener is this hot?!”

Jaehyun just replies you back with “Well the lazy cow is always sleeping that she missed the handsome prince. Besides I’ve told you to watch over the gardener several times, but you forced me instead.”

You groan “Jaehyun you could’ve given me a warning.”

“Didn’t mom tell you to shower beforehand?”

“Well I did take a shower, but my clothes are out of stock.”

“What did you use?”

“Your old sweater and a short??”

“Naughty!” Jaehyun teases you from the chat

“I didn’t know he is this hot! Not naughty Jae! I have no other clothes, trust me I’d rather dress up nicer and cuter than this if I knew him!”

The whistling kettle makes you leave Jaehyun and you brew the coffee for Taeyong.

Now what should you do as you wait? Staring will make him uncomfortable and you a creep.

You shrug it off and calm your nerve down. Come on you’re the queen of being confident and flirting here and there for fun, why are you nervous today?

Taeyong has finished taking care of the soil when you come and hear him humming some sweet melodious song.

“Taeyong-shi, here is your coffee.” You put the tray on one of the garden table there and walk to squad next to him.

“Thank you! Also, do you mind dropping the honority? I am not that old and it’s more comfortable for both of us to talk in a friendlier way.” He wipes a sweat that almost enters his eyes, but you notice his hands are covered with soil and dirt, so you quickly extend your arm and wipe it instead with the paw of your sweater.

Taeyong freezes but laughs afterwards when you mutter a small “Sorry…. I just don’t want your face to get dirty.”

He giggles and focuses back to the seeds “Cutie,” he mutters to himself and luckily you failed to catch that.

You nervously giggle and step back “Guess I’ll just wait and see if you need any help.”

Taeyong notes your nervousness and just shrugs his shoulder “Sure, don’t worry I got this.”

So, you only sit there waiting for him while talking about small talk. He asks about your brother, and you’re surprised he is actually quiet close to Jaehyun.

“Well, your brother never told me he has a beautiful cute sister.” He smirks while placing the seeds into the soft soil. You turn red upon his blatant remark “Aigo what are you saying? Jaehyun never talks about me to anyone. It’s nothing new.” You roll your eyes.

Taeyong pats the soil in front of him “That’s because your brother doesn’t want men to hurt your heart. He’s a good brother I think.”

You scoff “He is a good brother, until he gets to witness your embarrassing moments and you basically won’t live in peace.”

“I guess he did something good.” Taeyong pauses to take a sip of your drink. The coffee has gotten a little bit cold, but he finishes it well.

You did not realize he has finished planting the roses and your heart doesn’t want him to go. Not when both of you have learned each other’s favorite music and least favorite ice cream flavors.

Taeyong puts down the coffee cup and walks to water the new bed seed. That’s when your eyes caught attention of the other packages of seeds he has with him.

You bend to look at the organized packages and hum as you run your fingers through the selections.

“That’s all! Your mother will only need to water them nicely and make sure that no one is stepping over the new seeds.” Taeyong wipes his dirty hands on a piece of clothes.

“Thank you, but I see you have some other seeds too!”

He smiles “Yeah I have some sunflowers, jasmine, peonies, and dahlias. Why? Interested in planting one?”

You look into his eyes “Are you in a rush?” when he shakes his head and lets you know he is free for the day you squeal and grab his hands “Mind planting some more? This time I’ll help you!”

Taeyong’s smile reaches his eyes “Okay then, which one do you want?

You ponder and finally point to the sunflower seeds “Sunflower should look good in the front garden!”

“Nice choice. Come, let’s get started.” Taeyong grabs your hand voluntarily and drags you out of the house.

You laugh a little when you notice how fast both of you have become in a short time.

Taeyong gently helps you wear your gloves, and he instructs you to watch him makes the soil fluffy before putting the seeds. He also informs you on how to care the flowers once they grow.

“There, put it in and cover the seed nice and comfy like putting a baby to sleep.” He speaks with much care, as if the seeds are babies who can cry at any time soon.

“Now we water them and you promise me to take care of the sunflower until they grow big okay?” Taeyong says when he hands you the watering can.

You eagerly nod your head “I’ll send you some once they grow big.”

“You don’t have to, but I’d be happy to receive it. Well, I guess that’s all, your mother is here.” He glances over his shoulder and sees your mother coming in from the fence.

You clean yourself up and help your mom carries her things into the room. Taeyong was with her, talking about the flowers and caring procedures.

You return from your mother’s room looking a bit gloom because you’ll say goodbye soon. Until you overheard mom and Taeyong talking like an old friend in the garden.

“I’m glad (y/n) is also not alone, thank you for planting the seeds. She never shows interest in flowers, but I guess this sunflower can change her. Thank you Taeyong!” your mother pats the man’s shoulder and you catch up with them right in time.

“Taeyong! Well, yeah thank you for the fun. Um… do you mind staying for lunch?” you blurt that invitation out and you can clearly see your mother looking both surprised and a bit mischievous at the same time. Oh gosh you know you won’t live a day without her teasing you about this.

Taeyong looks surprised by your invitation, after all he just knew you for two hours and you’re already acting like this?

Your mom quickly saves you when you shoot her a “help me” look.

“Yes, Taeyong stay please if you have time. We’re about to grab lunch and I think you deserve a good lunch from your hard work today.” Your mother invites him too and Taeyong knows he cannot refuse it when mothers are the one inviting.

You throw a “thank you” to your mom and she just winks.

Thanks to your unfiltered tongue, you got to eat lunch with the cute gardener, spent a good Saturday, and the best thing is you won his number.

Three months from that day, Taeyong opens his apartment door and smiles when he sees a bouquet of sunflower and a handwritten letter on his doorstep.

“Happy one-month anniversary my Rose prince! I know I should’ve sent the roses, but I promised you sunflowers, right? I love you and miss you! Come for dinner or lunch anytime soon, mom also wants to meet you and Jaehyun is staying over next week.”

Taeyong inhales the bouquet and walks to fill in a vase with fresh water. Next, he busies himself transferring the yellow flowers into the vase, trying to keep them alive.

He then walks to his small balcony with numerous greens and fragrance flowers, cut out some orchid he has been growing.

With a light hum and a radiant smile, Taeyong wraps them nicely to a bouquet. He makes sure he has his clean shirt on, sprays his favorite cologne and walks to your house.

“Happy one-month anniversary my princess! Here’s an orchid for you because you’re a rare beauty and I love you!” he envelopes you to a hug and kisses your forehead sincerely.

You inhale his scent and remember the first time both of you met, how awkward and rushed things were, but you’re glad you met him that day. You would regret denying mom’s request that day. Every time you eat in the dining room and see the red roses, Taeyong comes to your mind and every time you shower the sunflowers in your garden, you feel thankful for being brave and winning his heart.

end.

roses are red

sunflowers are yellow

you have many words unsaid

and i don't have words rhyming with yellow

#taeyong x you #taeyong x y/n #taeyong x reader #gardener au #taeyong fluff #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong oneshot #taeyong fanfic #nct taeyong fluff #nct fluff #lee taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x you #jaehyun x you #jaehyun #taeyong #nct fanfic #nct masterlist #dailyau

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hoenursey · 5 years ago

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NurseyChow prompt: comic 4.08

i can’t believe you made me look up what fucking comic that was, sending me this like i know shit lol

When Chowder comes home from class, there’s an ungodly stomping noise coming from the staircase, and the sound of someone kicking a cardboard box across the floor. The door shuts behind him, and Ford sticks her head out of the kitchen, smiling apologetically.

“Dex’s decided he’s tired of living with Nursey,” she said in lieu of a greeting, and Chris closes his eyes, fingers coming to the bridge of his nose tightly.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, and joins her in the kitchen, where they’re talking about class of ‘16. Apparently, they’ve moved in together, and now that Dex has exploded, Chowder is strongly considering asking if he can move in with them. He misses Lardo.

Dex moving out takes the better part of the afternoon. In the evening, he stays locked in the basement, hammering and cutting and whatever else people who know how tools work do with them. It’s loud, and more than a little annoying, but no one wants to go downstairs and tell him to stop. Besides, it won’t work.

That’s the first time anyone sees Nursey.

Instantly, he knows something is wrong.

For one, he’s got on basketball shorts in October, which everyone knows he’s morally opposed to. He’s ranted about it several times; he could practically write a thesis on it.

Secondly, his eyes are bloodshot.

“Hey,” he says hoarsely, and Chris’ alarm skyrockets.

A chorus of greetings sounds, all some degree of concerned.

Nursey clears his throat. “Uh, i’m going to Annie’s,” he says, trying for normal. He almost accomplishes it. “If anyone wants anything, just text me. My treat.”

“Do you want someone to go with you?” Ford asks anxiously, before anyone can stop her, and Chris manages to kick the foot of her chair in time for her to blurt out, “Uh, to help you carry all those drinks, y’know?”

Nursey smiles wanly. He looks drawn. “Nah, Nicey, i’m good. I’ll see you later, guys.”

Scattered goodbyes go off, and he disappears out the door with hardly a sound.

Bitty turns immediately to Chowder.

“Would you mind--”

“I’m already texting him,” he says, and Bitty smiles worriedly, stacking another few cookies on his plate.

[ text: hot nurse ] hey, would you grab me a jasmine tea? i forgot to buy some at the grocery store !

He watches their chat-- Nursey doesn’t respond, but he does like the message. Satisfied, he taps out a “thanks <3″ and leaves Nursey alone for now.

It’s nearly an hour before Nursey comes back. He knocks briefly on Chris’ door, and he calls cheerfully for him to come in.

“Come on in, close the door! You can go through the bathroom later, I don’t wanna walk all the way over to close the door.”

Nursey nods, silent. Without so much as a greeting, he brings over the drink, mumbling, “here,” and handing it off.

Chris takes it one-handedly-- with the other, he catches Nursey’s wrist, holding him in place and peering up at him.

He looks a little better-- not much, mind-- but his eyes aren’t so red, and he makes eye contact for a few seconds.

“How are you? Really,” he asks evenly. Nursey laughs. There’s very little humor in it.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “Just need some time, y’know.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Nursey snaps. “Fine, I feel like shit, is that what you wanted? You wanna know so fucking bad? Did you even want a drink, Chowder, or what? Wanna fucking throw it at me? Did Dex want this fucking drink, and he just didn’t wanna say anything? What?!”

Chris waits until Nursey tires himself out, looking angry and heartbroken, and it hurts him to stay quiet like this, to let Nursey say the negative stuff that festers inside of himself, but he knows intrinsically that the other boy needs it.

Finally, Nursey’s rant ends, and instantly, he looks ashamed of himself, clenching up his jaw and looking away.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t... I didn’t mean to... y’know. Sorry.”

“Do you wanna sleep here tonight?”

He looks back to him. “Huh?”

“Do you wanna sleep here, with me? I just... I thought... I mean, it’s better than sleeping alone, right?” Chris puts on a brave smile, like his heart isn’t thumping, like it isn’t taking everything in him not to tremble at the sight of his teammate like this.

Nursey-- no, Derek, looks... lost. Like the kid they all kind of are, dressed up in grownup’s shoes.

“Dee?” he murmurs, hesitant, and Derek breaks, swallowing tightly; all at once, he nods, the green of his eyes warbling with unshed tears.

Hastily, Chris rises to hold him, and Derek’s weight sags against him the second he envelops him in his hold. He shudders, once, twice, lets out a muffled sob, and Chris squeezes him, presses him to his chest as Derek cries.

It takes time for Chris to get Derek into bed, but he does it, whispering gentle platitudes into his dark curls. Derek drops onto the mattress clumsily, and Chris kneels in front of him, squeezing his hands with gentle pressure. “Let’s get ready for bed,” he prompts, and his friend nods, and goes slowly to his clothing to undress.

Chris strips in record time, finding something for Derek amongst his own clothes. He’s a little bigger, a little more muscled, but he’s always been lean, and Chris himself wears baggy clothes sometimes. A pair of older shorts and a Sharks tee, and Derek is sitting at the edge of his bed, arms around himself tightly.

Chowder lifts the blankets on his side. “C’mon, babe,” he says, coaxing, a hand cupping his elbow. It isn’t until Derek is tucked into his side that Chris even notices the endearment, too caught up in taking care of the boy beside him.

Well, there’s no time for that. If Derek hadn’t noticed, it wasn’t important. He would worry about that... some other time. Sometime appropriate.

“Is this okay?”

Derek tenses; immediately, Chris pulls his arm from around his waist-- or tries to, anyways, but Derek’s hand catches his wrist, pulling him back. His grip is iron.

“Don’t,” he mumbles into Chris’ neck. “Please.”

Chris goes soft, tucks Derek into his arms and holds him while he shakes, while the hot tears drop wetly onto his own warm skin and Derek’s long fingers twist in the fabric of Chris’ tee.

“C?” Nursey rasps, after what feels like hours, and Chris looks down at him, startling.

Oh god, he even looks beautiful when he cries.

It was true: the red rimming his eyes made the green of his irises stand out, framed by tears darkening and crystallizing on his long lashes. Blood had rushed to his cheeks, flushing them, as well as his lips, giving them a reddened, kiss-swollen appearance. Chris’ own face goes hot; Derek bites his bottom lip and he can’t bear to draw his eyes away from it.

“Yeah?”

“...can you kiss me?”

Chris inhales sharply. “We shouldn’t--”

“I know.”

“You--”

Derek surges up and seals their mouths together. Every protest-- token and legitimate-- dies on his lips and is swiped away by Derek’s tongue.

Every atom of him feels like it’s on fire. His own tongue curls around the expanse of Derek’s mouth, swallowing the hot gasp that pours from it-- Derek’s fingers tighten, fisting the fabric in his grasp near-desperately. His free hand sneaks into Chris’ jet black hair, folding silkily through the pin-straight strands and then, as Chris responds with a groan, catching his lip between his teeth, his fingers tighten, deliciously.

Before he knows it, Chris is half on top of Derek, pressing him into the bed with their lips melded together. By the time he realizes what he’s doing, he’s shoving a knee between Derek’s thighs and dragging him close by the waist.

Fuck.

Chowder pulls away with a curse. Derek’s eyes fly open, half a moan tearing out of his throat-- the pupils are blown black, skin wrought with an impassioned rush of blood.

“I’m sorry,” Chris blurts out. “I’m sorry, Dee, but we- I- no. Not now, not-- not like this, okay? Not, like, never! But just... just not now. Not when you’re hurting like this.”

Derek swallows. “Right,” he says, suddenly quiet. “Sorry, you.. you probably want me to go.”

“No!”

Derek freezes. Chris gulps nervously, and then sits back on his calves, pulling Derek with him.

“Stay. Please.”

He hesitates. “I...”

“Derek.”

He bites his lip; quietly, after a few minutes, Derek nods. Chris breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. C’mon, let’s sleep,” he says gratefully, and Nursey nods again, shifting to allow Chowder space on the bed. It takes time, but after a few moments of awkward shuffling, he pulls Nursey into his chest, fed up with discomfort and stiltedness. Nursey settles into it immediately, taking sharp little breaths that calm when he unconsciously syncs them up to Chris’.

Derek is asleep in minutes. Chris, spooned up behind him, follows just after between one breath and the next.

In the morning, when Chris wakes, he’s alone. Derek is gone. He’s clutching a pillow-- and drooled on it a little, which, embarrassing, he hopes he didn’t drool on Nursey-- and when he sits up, he sees a notebook at the end of the bed.

It’s nothing to reach for it, so he does, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It doesn’t say much, but it’s clearly from Nursey.

Thanks. -DMN

#nurseychow #unacaritafeliz #ficlets #fic #(fanfic): mine #derek nurse #chris chow #chowder #nursey #answers #asks #my fic

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alice-grace-and-ava · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2:Rage You Damn Nerd

Three American transfer students join your favorite characters at UA high. Come see as they face the challenges that come with training to be a hero while battling their demons from their past. It’s time for them to push past their boundaries and go plus ultra!!!!!(sorry I’m terrible at descriptions)

English Thoughts Japanese

HI! This is Alice, and I wanted to go ahead and post this! Grace wouldn't let me stop doing the tags until it maxed out.................I would rather drink unsweet tea than do that ever again. Anyway enjoy!

Alice

“ Listen Alice” I nod my head and my eyes lower back to his chiseled abs “ look here” Vlad king snapped his fingers in my face to bring my attention back to him.I'm currently sitting in his office, which is all of the teachers, and we are the only ones in the room. His cubicle is littered with fanart, a coffee cup, a mysterious bowl of some type of food, and a computer with a cat on the home screen.Why would a very well-behaved girl like me be in the teacher’s office? He wanted to make a deal with me but from how this is going so far I’m not sure I’m going to like it.“ If you behave, and I mean no hitting on me or other students- don't give me that look!” I feel myself deflate in the chair.“ You don't understand!” I flap my arms in defiance. “ And how do I not understand the fact that you won't stop calling me names, and quite frankly poor Shiozaki cant handle it any more” he challenges. I cross my arms and huff “ It's not my fault that everyone in the class is whiny babies” Vlad leans his head on his desk and is visibly exhausted.

“ Oh, Alice!” I jump from my seat as Present Mic appears, he holds a cup of jasmine tea in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.

“ Mic!” I excitedly respond, he smiles then notices Vlad King's exhaustion.

“ Hey, Hey, Hey my guy what’s wrong?” The other loud blonde in the room questions.

I slap the dying man on the back trying to show that he's okay, but he completely collapses onto the desk with an oof

“ Oh, that's not good” I quickly retract my hand and jump back.

“ What happened Alice?” Present mic sets his stuff on the desk and crouches down closer to the nearly dead man. I look away shyly “ He wants me to make a deal with him” I complain, and with a look from Mic I whine out the rest “but he wants me to stop flirting and making inappropriate comments!”

“ Man Sekkijro you can't make Alice change her style like that, we try to help the students stay true to themselves and that's who she is so let her be herself”

What the hell Mic, I stand still and look away, I hate it when people try to act like this.

“ Listen Vlad king,” I say boredly, my morning now ruined by sympathetic people, and he jumps up to attention at my change. “ Let me come and go as I please, I'll do the bookwork, don't worry, and then I'll stop interrupting your lessons with my comments.” The look of relief on his face is laughable.

“ Yes! As long as you do your schoolwork you can skip class as much as you want!”

I smile widely “ Deal!” I step closer to him and pat his chest “ but that won't stop me from acting up outside of class hours'' His skin drained of all color, Present Mic doubled over laughing. I took this chance to snatch his tea and skip out of the class, yes I skipped out of the room.

I shut the door and stand in the hallway

It’s cold like always……….

*RUMBLE*

I feel a light shake and immediately felt around for the girls, relaxing more once their presence was stable. Grace seems to be in class while Ava on the other hand…

I smile, she’s by herself on the west wing- The wing known for its amazing vending machine- wanting my mood to lighten I reach out for her more.

I hone onto her sunflower energy and a twinge of power flows within myself

Grace

To say that the school day so far has been boring would be an understatement. The only interesting part of the day was when I got to repeatedly correct the present mic about slang terms in English class. I don't understand why I have to take that class anyway. It's an easy A, or it would be if the slang that Present Mic was trying to teach wasn't from the 80s.

After English with the present mic, it was time for lunch. The entire school seems like it’s on the same lunch schedule so the lunchroom was packed. I was having trouble finding a seat when I heard someone yell out my name. When I looked around to find the owner of the voice I saw a group of kids from my class looking in my direction. Kirishima was holding his hand in the air and waving it around excitedly.

I made my way over only to find that the only available seat was next to Bakuhoe. Reluctantly I placed my tray down and moved my chair as far away from his as possible before I sat down and began to eat my food. I could practically feel the entire group’s eyes staring into the side of my head. I glanced up from my food and was met with four curious faces looking at me. The first one to speak was the pink girl. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m-” “You’re Mina Ashido, the boy with the blond hair with the lightning bolt is Denki Kaminari, black hair is Sero Hanta, the redhead is Eijiro Kirishima, and the punk next to me is Katsuki Bakugou.” They all stare at me with various looks of surprise on their faces. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was supposed to put the last name first wasn’t I?” The one to speak up was Sero. “No- well yes, but I guess we weren’t expecting to know all of our names.” I glance around and see them all nodding in agreement except for Bakugou. “Let’s just say that where I’m from you learn names and faces pretty quickly for safety reasons.” Kaminari was the one to speak up next. “Why do you need to-” The sound of Into the Unknown resounds from the pocket of the shorts that were under my skirt. When I finally can get the phone out I see I have a text from Ava asking me to meet her in her classroom and to bring my backpack. “Sorry to cut this lunch short but I have to go meet my sister.” Mina excitedly jumps out of her seat and scurries or to me before stopping directly in front of me.”You have a sister that goes here?!” I place my hands on her shoulder and push her back slightly. “Yea I have two. Technically we’re not blood-related but in the words of Supernatural “family doesn’t end in blood.”

Alice

“Oh hello Alice, I just ate my last bag of cookies sorry. If I knew you were coming I would've given it to that cute kid…..”

I am sitting on the bench in front of a vending machine Ava is sitting cross-legged to my right surrounded by food.

“Cute kid?” I smirk and poke her shoulder, she grabs my shoulder and leans in close.

“You have no idea how adorable he is, fluffy hair! Big ground eyes! And freckles, he has freckles!!”

I burst out laughing and reach up to pat her head, glad that I chose to visit her because she can entertain me.

“Why are you laughing?” she wines out

“Because you’re amusing”

She huffs and opens up a honey bun to eat it, I stare at the cup of tea in my hand,

“Alice, what’s wrong?”

Ava leans her head on my shoulder.

I glance down at a snickers bar, and a certain pomeranian pops into my head.

“Alice?”

“It's nothing Ava, nothing at all, in fact, can you hold this cup please”

I smile innocently and watch as she takes the cup without hesitation

We stare at each other

I grab a snickers bar and get the fuck out of there.

“ALICCCCEEEE!!! THAT’S MINE”

I hear her scream, then a crash of the coffee cup smashing into the ground.

Sorry Mic

I start running through the halls, fear creeps into me as I hear her running up behind me.

I hear her footsteps quickly closing in on me.

Dang, it! I should’ve rethought this, I know how fast she is, and yet I thought this was a bright Idea. A CHILD!

I reach out and grab the small purple-haired kid by the collar and yeeted him over my shoulder.

“Oh hello there goddess”

Glancing over and see the purple kid stuck to Ava, she tries to pry him off but he only continues to stick on her.

I laugh at my victory, knowing whatever Ava will try to do to get back at me Grace will stop.

I keep my walk at a fast pace, noticing how I can hear the voices of students grow louder. I open silver double doors and look around the room. A very nice cafeteria is filled with students, they sit at nice comfortable booths and chat. Scanning the room looking for my next victim

“ WHAT DID YOU SAY YA NERD!”

I smile as I hear a dog bark out annoyingly, the students sitting in the booth close to me quickly got up sensing my intentions. I calmed myself and plastered a smile on my face, I turn to see the Pomeranian sitting with 4 other people ( even happier when one of those is my dear Pikachu). I sneak towards the group, closing in behind the cute static brain, Mid rant the mutt stops and looks at me confused causing the others to look. Denki of course doesn’t notice as he is concentrating on his food, I wink at the group.

“ Pikachu I choose you!”

I yell and throw my arms around his neck. He lets out a scream and then goes into a coughing fit.

Everyone starts laughing, I slap my fellow blonde harshly on the back to assist him in not dying.

“ So who’s your friend?” the redhead asks as he wipes his eyes.

I climb over the booth and slip in between Denki and the redhead, right across from the mutt, I throw him a smirk.

“ Ah, this is-”

“ Wait a damn minute you’re the annoying brat that-”

“ I’m Alice, I just transferred from America- Also I’m Pikachu’s friend!”

I interrupt the mutt and throw my arm around my now proclaimed friend.

“ What’s your last name?” the pink girl questioned.

I remove my arm and clap my hands together to rest my chin on them.

“ I don’t have one, and who are you Pinkie Pie?”

Sensing my tone the redhead jumped in.

“ Sorry, it’s just our friend said she has two sisters that go to school here, so we just wanted to know.”

The mutt aggressively set his juice box down on the table and they stared at him.

“ Didn’t you hear her, they’re not blood-related so of course the last name isn’t the same.”

Ahh he gets bonus points

I laugh trying to change the mood.

“ Well, I’ll introduce everyone-” I interrupt Denki

“The first name only, I’ll only remember it”

He grins and points at the kid with weird elbows

“ Sero”

“Flextape”

“Mina”

“Pinkie Pie”

“Eijiro”

“ Shark - and or Shark bait ooh ah ah”

They stared at me, the mutt chokes on his juice.

“Should I even try if you’re going to give us nicknames”

Denki lets a breath out as I continue to smile, he points at himself

“Pikachu?”

I nod my head, he hesitantly then points across from him

“Mutt”

I don’t miss a beat.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME!!”

“Mutt” I respond with a smile and seeing how he’s at the perfect level I slip the Snickers bar towards him on the table.

“It’s okay your not you when you’re hungry”

He turns to stone, then as if he was a newly awakened volcano he exploded. Everyone at the table jumps up as he starts to produce explosions.

“Welp gotta blast” I grin out and holding my hand out to give Pikachu a high-five, then leaping across the table and now on the run for the second time today.

I weave in between students standing in the cafeteria, standing in shock as they watch 3 people try to restrain a rabid dog.

I slip through the doors and a laugh escapes me as my daily entertainment has been fulfilled.

“ Oh it’s you”

I look to my left and my biggest smile of the day creeps on my face.

“Best Boi!” I jump to hug him, he stops me by placing a hand on my head, I let out a whine as I struggle to touch him.

“You’re very loud today” he states boredly.

“Yes of course I am! I was playing with the dog and also stole some candy, which I tried to give to the dog but he didn’t want it” I pout, Shinsou doesn't even look surprised at my confession.

“ Did you at least have lunch?”

I stop trying to hug him and stood up straight, dread fills me “ Grace is going to murder me”

I whisper to him, he chuckles and reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a slice of lemon bread.

“ Can’t have the problem child dying”

My eyes widen as I stare at his outstretched hand.

“You’re stalking me”

“what - You know what I’m not even going to try to argue with you, but why would you assume that”

I swipe the package from his hand and beam at him, “because it’s my favorite snack”

He stands there, head empty no brain,

“Oh, Alice there you are! I was wondering if I could have my cup back, its a limited edition DJ Khaled cup”

I look at shinshou with a guilty look, Present Mic appears down the hall strutting my way

“Gotta blast again! By best boi”

I salute him and put the bread in my mouth, like a true anime girl, and hop out the window escaping.

Grace

When I met up with Ava there was a weird purple ball stuck to her skirt and she needed to get her spare skirt out of her locker. As it turns out Ava needed my backpack because she accidentally put the slip of paper with her locker combination in one of my folders, but the one folder she needed was at home. We ended up spending a good 10-15 minutes looking for it before we finally went to her teacher. Who was nice enough to give me a pass to class because I was running late. I made it to class five minutes after the bell rang but luckily the teacher wasn’t there yet. Just as I placed my pencil pouch on my desk the door to the classroom slams open to reveal All Might, the number one hero standing on his toes with his hands on the door frame. He leans forward so that his weight is supported by his hands, and he’s standing in what seems to be a pose imitating flying. His cape flows into the classroom, and if I look closely I can see the fan positioned in the hallway behind him that he’s using to provide the breeze for his cape.

“I am here!”

The sound of excited murmuring begins to resonate around the classroom. All might does a weird march as he makes his way behind the teacher’s desk

Sir why are you walking like you have something stuck up your butt.

“Welcome to the most important class at U.A high! Think of it as heroing 101! Here you will learn the basics of being a pro and what it means to fight in the name of good!”

All might places one of his feet on the chair and turns so that his back is faced to us while he flexes to make his muscles even larger than they already are.

“Let’s get into it! Today’s lesson: pull no punches!” All might holds up a card that just says BATTLE. The class begins to talk in an uproar of excitement. “Hell yea finally some action!” Bakugou’s loud voice in my ear sends a sharp pain through my skull. I turn in my seat so that I am face to face with him. “Bitch! Do that again! Yell in my ear again and see what happens to you! I know how to hide a body. They’ll never find you.” Bakugou slams his hands on his desk and gets closer to my face “ Are you threatening me!” A small smirk works its way onto my face. “It's not a threat. It’s a promise. Now if you don’t get out of my face I promise that I will punch you in yours.”

Before he can say anything else several slots in the wall open and shelves of number cases slide out. “ Part of being a hero is looking good so in each case is a costume based on the information that each of you provided before school started” the class once again starts to murmur in excitement. “ Young Grace, your hero costume just arrived this morning from your old school, so it is not with the rest of the classes. You will have to stop by the office to grab yours, so you are excused to go and collect that.”

It didn’t take me long to get my costume and by the time I got back to the class the last person was grabbing their assigned case number and I was being ushered in the direction of the changing rooms.

After everyone was changed we made our way to the training ground beta. I couldn’t help but look around at everyone’s costumes. A green figure caught my attention. Is that midoriya? What the hell is he wearing? His costume was interesting, to say the least. It looked sort of like a mutant bunny. Wait a damn minute. Why does his costume look familiar? I try to figure out what or who his costume reminds me of until I feel a presence next to me when I look I see no one until I glance down to see Mineta standing way too close for comfort and staring at the exposed skin of my thigh. “Man, I love this school.” My face scrunches in disgust, but before I can do anything All Might begins talking again. All Might! My eyes dart back and forth between Midoriya’s costume and All Might. The more that I look the more the similarities stick out. Did he base his costume on All Might?

“Alright, newbies each of you will step up and choose a letter from this box. This will determine what team you will be on. Since we have an uneven number of students one team will have three people instead of two.” One by one my classmates found their teams until it was my turn. I reached in and felt around until I finally was able to grasp a sheet of paper. Please not the same team as that pomeranian.Please not the same team as that pomeranian. I opened the slip and low and behold I’m on the same team as Katsuki Bakugou. Begrudgingly I walked over to Bakugou and Iida to wait for the rest of the class to finish drawing for their teams.

Once everyone was paired up for teams, All Might reached into the two boxes that had been sitting to the side labeled hero and villain. He raises his hands into the air in an extravagant manner while holding two balls. One with the letter A and the other with the letter D. “Team A will be the heroes and Team D you three will be the villains. Now go to your starting positions. The rest of the class and I will be watching. If things go too far I will stop the fight.” I follow Iida to where we need to go, but we each stop at All Might to get an earpiece so that we can talk to each other.

Iida, Bakugou, and I were placed in a large room to guard a weapon. As we wait for All Might to announce the start I hear Bakugou grumbling to himself. “Yo hedgehog. What’s got your panties in a twist?” He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Do you think that damn nerd has a quirk?” Iida speaks up before I have the opportunity to. “ Do you mean Midoriya? Of course, he has a quirk. How else would he have gotten into U.A. otherwise, and you saw him at the entrance exam.” Bakugou clenches his fist and the smell of caramel floods my nostrils. The static of the earpieces being activated sounds in our ears. “Let the battle begin!” Bakugou is the first to move, heading for the door right away. Iida starts to wave his hands around in a wild but robotic manner. “Bakugou where are you going? We need to stay-”“ You two just stay here and guard the weapon.” With that, he disappears into the hallway. “ Don’t worry Iida I’m still here.” He turns and looks down at me before his face turns a bright red color and he swiftly turns his head to look away from me. I glance down to try to figure out what has him so flustered, but I don't see the problem. When I look back at him he still refuses to look at me. “th-tha-. Let’s-um- let’s move everything out of the floor so that when Uraraka and Midoriya come Uraraka can’t use her quirk.” After he gives instructions he just begins to move things around, while still avoiding looking in my direction. “Iida?” He hums while still moving things around. “Are you okay?” I start to move things around and off the floor. “I am fine Jackson, but thank you for your concern.” “Are you sure? Because you were really red.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see his back stiffen. “I am fine, I assure you.” I don’t believe you but I’ll leave it alone.

It takes us about ten minutes or so to move everything out of the floor and put them where Uraraka can’t use them. As we wait Iida starts to mumble to himself about how to be a good pretend villain. Slowly he starts to get louder until he’s taking in a boisterous voice in a stiff or of tone. I can’t help but to chuckle at his antics, and he turns and looks at me wide-eyed as if he had forgotten that I was here. He goes to speak, but I raise my hand to silence him when I hear something. It’s quiet for a moment before the faint sound of shuffling can be heard. “Did you hear that?” Iida looks at me with confusion written all over his face. “No, I did not hear anything.” The shuffling sound happens again. “There it is again.” Iida looks around. “Maybe it was Bakugou.” I continue to look around to try to find the source of the noise when a faint scent hits my nose. “ It’s not Bakugou. It doesn’t smell like caramel. It’s like a softer smell like flowers.” Iida looks around smelling the air. “Are you sure I don’t smell anything” I continue to observe the area before I spot a pink shoe peeking out from behind a pillar. “Trust me Iida if there is anything I am confident with it’s my sense of smell. And I'm also confident that Uraraka is currently hiding behind that pillar over there by the door.” A small squeak comes from the girl.

As I go to take a step forward the building begins to shake and I end up on the floor. “Dammit, Bakugou! What the hell are you doing.” the earphone stays silent. “Bakugou I know that you can hear me!” A growl can be heard from his end of the line. “Shut the hell up. I’m handling my job. You handle yours.” The sound of static fills my ears, and I turn around to look at Iida. “Did-did he just turn his earpiece off?” All that he offers is a blank expression. The building shakes again this time a few pieces of the ceiling fall and we have to cover our heads. Once the building settles and debris no longer rains I wait a moment before I stand just to make sure that the building won’t start shaking again.

I start to dust off my pants when I notice movement out of the side of my eye. I look over to see Uraraka moving from her place behind the pillar and start running towards the weapon. “Iida!” The sound of his engines fills the room as I charge forward towards the brunette. “Got it!” I throw myself forward and tackle Uraraka before she can get any further. It becomes a mess of hands flying between the two of us. Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! You are not pennywise and we don’t all float here! The building shaking again distracts me for a moment, but it gives her an opening and she places a hand on my arm while activating her quirk. Slowly the floor starts to get further away, and I try to reach out to grab anything that can steady me without success. Instead of floating straight up like I had expected, I can feel myself start to float in the direction that Iida and I had been standing. Suddenly I feel my stomach sink and my body is no longer weightless as I slam down into the floor knocking all of the air out of me. I’m gonna remember that.

It takes a moment for me to regain my breath, but when I finally do Iida reaches his hand out to help me up. The sound of Urarka talking into her comm reaches my ears and I look over to see her grabbing onto a pillar. What are you- the building begins to shake again, but this time stronger than before. “Iida I would grab onto something if I were you.” Before either of us could move a giant explosion blasted up through the floor. To keep my balance I grabbed onto Iida. When the explosion stopped a cloud of dust remained. Something seemed to be moving within the dust and I squinted to try to make out what it was. The shape of rocks moving towards us became more apparent and the two of us ducked to cover our heads. From behind us, we heard the sound of Uraraka cheering as she came in contact with the weapon.

“The hero team wins!” It is what it is. The three of us walk down to the ground level where a medical bed is taking Midoriya away to Recovery Girl through the giant hole in the side of the building. All Might stands there amongst the rubble watching as the bed carries away one of his students. He turns to look at the remaining four of us and leads us in the direction of the observation room. The class is silent as we walk in. All Might walks to his chair and turns to look at the four of us. “While the heroes may have won this fight the true MVPs were Iida and Grace.” Mummers fill the room as our classmates talk amongst themselves. “Does anyone know why?” Momo steps forward. “The two of them discussed a plan to ensure that their opponent was at a disadvantage. They were aware of their opponent’s skill and prepared for it. They were aware of their surroundings, Grace especially. While it is okay to separate sometimes on a mission it is best to stay together, and that is what they did.” I glance over at Bakugou, but he’s looking down with his hands clenched into a fist and his teeth clenched. All Might called for the next group to go, but I didn’t pay attention to who was next, instead I chose to sit in the corner of the room and take a nap.

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

After everyone completed the training exercise All Might excused us to go change and head back to the class. I was the first back in the classroom. Rather than sit at my desk, I perched myself on the windowsill to watch the world outside. Slowly everyone began to trickle back into the classroom, all except Bakugou, and the classroom began to bustle with noise once again. The door to the classroom opens and I turn to see who it is. Midoriya stands in the doorway with his arm lightly wrapped up. Everybody crowds around Midoriya, but I remain where I am staring out the window.

A familiar head of blond hair emerges from the school. I move to grab my bag, but before I leave the window I notice a head of green hair that can only be midoriya chasing after Bakugou. The two of them seem to talk, well Midoriya seems to be talking, Bakugou seems to be yelling. Bakugou turns to walk away again, but All Might appears practically out of thin air. Bakugou keeps his back to the two of them as All Might talks to him. The interaction doesn’t last long before Bakugou starts to walk away again. All Might and Deku stand there for a moment before All Might places a hand on his shoulder and leads him back into the building. While Bakugou is still in sight I grab my backpack off of the ground and throw the window open. I jump out Alice style and a familiar tingling sensation radiates between my shoulder blades as a pair of blue and purple butterfly wings sprout. I flutter over just behind the angry blonde and will my wings away. I walk a little faster to stand beside him and then slow down so that I can walk beside him as he stomps away like a little gremlin. He doesn’t look over at me, but I can tell that he knows that it’s me. “What the hell do you want?” What do I want? Why am I even here? He's not my friend. He's not even an acquaintance. I step in front of him and stop causing him to stop as well. For the first time, I offer him a small smile. “Let’s go grab frozen yogurt. My treat.” I don’t give him time, I just grab his wrist and drag him to the shop that I saw on the walk to school this morning.

When we get there the young man at the front counter greets us in a bubbly tone as he hands us our cups to go fill up. I filled my cup with coconut froyo topped with strawberry boba, coconut shavings, and three cherries. when I walk to the register bakugou is already standing there with his cup half full of chocolate with some granola and a single cherry.” you sure that’s all you want? I don’t mind, Ava usually gets two full cups when I pay so if you're concerned about the price being too high don’t worry about it.” He scowls at me a growl bubbling up from the back of his throat.” Shut the hell up and weigh your cup.” I place my cup on the scale and raise my hands in mock surrender.” All alright, alright I was just being nice.” I reach behind me to grab my wallet out of my bag. When I finally find it and turn around to pay I see the clerk handing Bakugou money.” What are you doing? I was gonna pay for your stuff.”Bakugou shoves his money angrily back into his pocket and yanks his froyo off of the scale.” I don’t need some damn extra paying for my food when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. Now grab you shit so we can go.” Bakugou doesn’t even wait for me before he walks out of the shop. I turn and thank the guy behind the counter before I grab my froyo and follow after Bakugou. We walk in silence as we eat until in the distance I spot a park and dash toward it.” Hey, where the hell are you going!” I spot a trashcan and as I dash past it I throw away my cup but continue my path to my destination. When I reach the object behind my excitement I throw down my backpack and practically throw myself into the seat of the swing. By the time Bakugou reaches me I've obtained a pretty good height.” What the hell was that!” I close my eyes as the wind whips past me.” I haven’t been on a swing since I was a kid! My mom used to bring my sisters and me to the park all the time before-.” A memory flashes behind my eyelids and I snap my eyes open. I stop kicking my legs and my swing slowly loses momentum until it just slightly sways. Bakugou looks at me with the same scowl on his face but a gleam of curiosity sparks in his eyes.” Why don’t you sit with me. Not on the same swing of course, but it’s a nice day out today. the fresh air will do you some good.” he looked down at me like I was stupid for a moment. To be honest, at this moment I feel stupid. In the end, he sits down on the swing.his swing slightly sways as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet.

A nice silence settles between the two of us that lasts for maybe ten to fifteen minutes before Bakugou breaks the silence.” Why did you invite me to get frozen yogurt with you?” I look over at him, but he’s looking straight ahead. “First of all, just say froyo dude. And I guess you just seemed like you needed a pick me up.” He looks over at me, his signature scowl plastered on his face. “So what is this out of pity or something! I don’t need pity from some damn extra! I don’t need pity from anyone!” In his tangent, he stood from his swing and moved in front to stand in front of me. “ Woah, Woah, Woah. who said anything about pity. Because I know damn well that word never left my mouth. Did you hear me say ‘oh poor Bakugou’? No cause those words never left my lips. I tried to be nice because even though I don't know what it is that made you mad, frustrated, or whatever emotion you're feeling I know what it’s like to be suffering by yourself. When you're so blinded by whatever you're feeling that it feels like you're drowning in it, but I also know what it’s like to have someone with you even if it’s just sitting in silence together. I was trying to be nice, but you wanted to be an bitch. Do me a favor and get your head out of your ass because it ain’t a hat. Now if you excuse me I’m going home.” I push past him and grab my bag as I begin the journey home.

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of-muppets-and-men · 4 years ago

Text

A Rose and Her Thorns

A piece I finally found the time to finish.

Spring.

Arguably Raven’s least favourite season. Summer was always warm and inviting; never sullied by the rain. Autumn was cool, its winds delicate and gentle; not to mention the breathtaking beauty of the forest. Winter, while bitter and unforgiving, at least gave her a reason to hunker down in her tent; warmed by fresh tea and heavy blankets. But Spring?

Spring was what it always was: Groggy and Wet.

The near constant rain seeped into everything it could; her clothes, her tent, and more annoyingly, the earth. The ground became a thick field of mud, making setting up camp a pain. Trees and foliage damp to the touch, making campfires all the more difficult to light. Raven had been through this time and time again, and with every passing year, she hated it even more.

And so, Raven sat quietly, trying to enjoy a cup of jasmine tea. A steady beat of raindrops pelted the roof of her tent, causing the bandit queen to seethe. With a deep sigh, she took a slow sip from her porcelain cup. The tea brought warmth to her numb fingers as she relished in her favorite tea. But her bliss was rudely interrupted when she heard the loud stomping of boots headed towards her tent.

The Bandit Queen nearly dropped her cup as Vernal and two of her scouts came fumbling in, trodding mud with every step. Raven was surprised to see her scouts so badly beaten. They may not have been her, but they definitely knew how to handle themselves. One of them was basically being carried by Vernal while the other stumbled inside, clutching his ribcage. Raven half-heartedly walked over to inspect the damage of her comrades; Vernal dressed the injuries best she could.

“Who did this to you?” Raven asked abrasively “C’mon. Speak up.”

“No idea.” Her scout spoke “This chick just ambushed us out of nowhere. Didn’t even have time to fight bac-”

The well built man winced in pain as Vernal bandaged his broken ribs. His partner was nursing her concussion with a bag of ice. Raven scoffed in disappointment, but led onto the more pressing question.

“This woman… Was she a huntress?”

“Maybe.” The other scout piped up.

“What did she look like?” Raven questioned again.

“Short. Couldn’t see her face under her cloak though.” The scout explained.

“Cloak?” Raven spat, eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah… big white and red cloak surrounded by flower petals.”

The Bandit Queen’s eyes grew wide in realisation. She stood back up, fists clenched and body tense. A deep sigh followed as her subordinates looked on in bewilderment. Raven had long dreaded this would happen. The day she left her family, her team; she knew one day they’d come looking for her.

“You okay, Boss?” Her scouts asked in unison.

“Vernal. Get these two patched up in the medical tent. I’ll tend to this myself.” Raven declared.

Her lieutenant attempted to protest “Raven, Are you sur-”

“Yes, I am. Now go.”

A tone of voice Vernal knew well and she knew it wasn’t wise to stick around. The lieutenant ushered the scouts of the tent, hoping not to exacerbate their injuries. Raven ambled toward Omen, clutching her weapon’s scabbard intently. She fastened it to her hip, unsheathing the crimson blade. The red glint comforted her in its own strange way, a poignant reminder of her own strength. The Leader of the Branwen tribe resheathed her blade, donned her mask, and set out in search of the trespasser.

In a moment’s notice, she flew above the treeline. As much disdain as she held for Ozpin, this was far and away the best thing he’d ever done for her. Raven glided through the air, relishing in the freedom of flight. There she gazed upon the earth for a sign, any sign of human life.

And sure enough, a plume of smoke protruded from the canopy; an obvious signal to lure her in. The smoke was too thick to be just logs. No, someone had intentionally let it billow. A clever ploy at the very least. Raven dived back into the forest to better trace the source, noticing hints of flame through the damp thicket.

With a surge of magic, Raven returned to her human form and hid within the treeline. A move she’d learned as a child and perfected as a huntress; She laid an eye onto the clearing. And the lack of… anything, worried her. Other than the fire, there was nothing; no bedroll, no provisions, nobody. Every bit of this reeked of a trap. Raven gripped Omen tight; the mechanism swirled and locked in a blade. Hesitant to expose herself, the bandit queen waited for the perpetrator to act…

*Swish*

Three dust bolts flew past her head, embedding themselves into an adjacent tree six inches above her. Her cover blown, Raven blitzed out of the treeline. Her gaze zeroed in on the direction the bolts came from; a large oak tree. The closer she got, the silhouette of woman became more apparent within the branches. Another volley wisped past the brush. Raven sidestepped them before lunging at the trespasser. But before Omen could connect, the mystery woman exploded into flower petals. Raven’s eye widened in disbelief, only to sharpen once more as she turned around.

The edge of Omen’s blade nearly an inch from the woman’s throat; countered by the fact a blade hovered over Raven’s heart. A smirk formed on the Bandit Queen’s face as she breathed the woman’s name.

“Summer. Long time no see.”

“Likewise Raven. Do you… want to continue?” Summer inquired.

The old friends chuckled before resheathing their weapons. Their eyes remained locked on one another; hostility not entirely off the table. Raven could see her former leader’s eye glimmering in the shade; a sight that made her nervous.

“Let’s talk over there.” The smaller woman said, gesturing over to the clearing.

Raven nodded and followed Summer back into the dim light of the afternoon. With a couple cleaves, Raven had made a tree into something relatively comfortable to sit on. They awkwardly sat at opposite ends, facing away from each other to avoid eye contact. Silence enveloped them as they both pondered on what to say. After all, in the grand scheme, Raven had only departed one and a half years ago. Such a long time and yet equally not. But ever abrasive, the bandit queen started her inquiry.

“What the hell are you doing here, Summer?”

“A girl can’t catch up with an old friend?” the smaller woman answered coyly.

“You could… But I highly doubt you roughed up my men just for a chat.”

“Hmph… I missed your skepticism.”

Summer let out a deep sigh, her hands trembling as she did so. A thing Raven found odd to say the least. Summer, as far as she knew, was the most cheerful beacon of hope she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. So seeing her former leader downtrodden was alarming to say the least.

“I really am here to talk, Rae. I have a thing I need to vent about. I can’t tell Tai and I sure as hell can’t tell Qrow, so if you could bear with it without bitching at me; That’d be great.”

It took a moment for Summer to realize she had begun to cry. She half-heartedly wiped the tears away with her sleeves, only for more to take their place.

A sight profoundly alien to Raven. In the many years she’d known her, she’d never seen Summer with anything less than a grin. And now to see her former leader falling apart at the seams, it… scared her. In ways she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Raven shuffled closer to her old friend, rubbing her back to calm her down.

“Summer. What’s wrong?”

A still teary Summer looked up at her old friend and managed to whimper out an answer: “I’m pregnant, Rae.”

Her answer lingered in the air for a spell; Raven’s shock telegraphed by her eyes. She didn’t know how to feel about it. Should she be happy? After all, despite her current position, this was still a momentous occasion. Or should she be angry? Considering Summer and Tai had been living together. A fact she knew as a result of her snooping. The latter would have to do…

“That’s… incredible, Summer.” A stale attempt at enthusiasm.

The soon-to-be mother didn’t respond. She only continued to lazily wipe away her tears.

“It’s no wonder you haven’t told Tai. The blond idiot couldn’t stop celebrating when I told him. Couldn’t imagine it happening all over again.” Again, Summer remained silent.

“Y’know Sum? I’m almost proud. Snatching up Tai as soon as I was out of the picture. Didn’t think you had it in you if i’m being honest…”

“Raven, stop…”

“No, I’m serious Sum. I didn’t think you had an assertive bone in your body, yet here you are carrying my ex’s ba-”

“IT’S NOT TAI’S!!!!” Summer snapped, standing now with her fists clenched.

Once more, Raven sat dumbfounded, “Not Tai’s? Then who’s?”

With her hood pulled over her head, Summer spoke: “Qrow’s”

Silver eyes shone through the shadow of her hood, fear and uncertainty shrouding their beauty. The mirror-like gaze matched by deep scarlet. Raven was at a loss for words. Today was turning out to be far more eventful than she had thought. She hadn’t seen anyone from STRQ in well over a year. Now, in a matter of a few fleeting minutes, her former best friend drops back into her life and tells her she's going to be an aunt.

But Qrow? Qrow?

Her pissant little brother was going to be a father. The cursed brat of the Branwen tribe. She could barely believe her ears. Raven stood in stunned silence while Summer gave that annoying look of hers.

“See my problem, now?”

It took a moment for Raven to find the words. Where should she start? Her entire perception of life as a student was just uprooted. Summer and Qrow. The thought of them together made her stomach churn. But how long had they been this way? And how did she never pick up on it? Too deep in thought, Summer piped up to give the answers she required.

“Second year.” Summer voiced.

“What?”

“We’ve been together since second year.” the little woman clarified.

“You’ve been keeping this secret for 3 years?” Raven fumed, nearly impressed by the resolve. “Does Tai know?”

“No. And It wasn’t our intention for it to be this way. We were going to tell you two when we graduated, but then you left… Tai was in a bad place and I chose to help him. We both decided it wasn’t the time or the place, which is why I’m here now.”

The Bandit Queen scoffed, her fists clenched with frustration, “So that’s why he stayed...”

Raven shot up from her makeshift seat, Summer puzzled at her sudden change in temperament. The Bandit that was once her friend started to make her way back to the tribe she’d left them for. The smaller woman followed close behind, intent to change her mind. Their boots sloshed in the mud as Summer grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going?” Summer badgered.

“Home. I’m done with our little talk.” Raven snarled in response.

“Then you’re going the wrong way.”

Scarlet eyes whipped back, clearly laced with insult. Summer looked back defiantly, unfazed by Raven’s temper.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have a home, but it’s not here. It’s back on Patch where your husband, daughter, brother, myself and now your niece are waiting for you.” Summer lectured, clutching her abdomen. “Your FAMILY.”

Raven said nothing in return. Only rolling her eyes as she pulled her wrist from Summer’s grasp. Family? What a joke. The wilds were the only place for her now, as much as Summer begged to differ. It was Qrow’s too, but he was a fool, just like Oz and the rest. Raven would have no part in it. She stormed away, back through the thicket and loose earth.

It stung. Watching her friend choose a group of lowlifes over the family they made. A low scoff wisped passed her lips.

“You were a lot of things, Rae. Strong, Stubborn, Proud. But I never took you for a coward.”

Coward. The word struck Raven like a punch. In a flash of rage, she lunged at her former best friend. Omen’s blade sliced through the air, narrowly missing Summer’s head. The Tiny Huntress flowed around the weapon’s edge, sidestepping it entirely. With a solemn look, Summer then kicked Raven clean in the jaw, sending her tumbling into the mud. In her anguish, she’d forgotten to engage her aura.

Raven rubbed her aching chin, looking up at the woman who beat her. Summer gazed back, her expression dripping with disappointment. And with a shake of her head, she left, dissipating into a shroud of flower petals, leaving Raven alone. The bandit picked herself up and made the walk back to camp.

Vernal stood waiting for her, pacing by the gate. As soon as her leader appeared from the treeline, she rushed over to assess what had transpired.

“Raven? Gods, what happened out there?” The lieutenant questioned.

��NOTHING.” Raven barked as she trotted back to her tent.

Vernal watched her leader vanish behind the vestibule. Raven tossed Omen aside in a pile of cloth. She angrily poured herself more tea, recounting the day she’d had. Gods above, she hated spring, but summer was becoming a close second.

#rwby #strq #hummingbird #flown north #hunter's dream #qrose #dusty rose #qrow x summer #summer x qrow #raven branwen #summer rose #qrow branwen

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theotherace · 4 years ago

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apple juice

A/N: Continuation of monkeyfeathers. Soulmate AU. Don’t ask about the lay-out of Iroh’s tea shop, it makes no sense.

ao3 | ff.net

---

Zuko scowls.

This, Suki supposes, is nothing new – her friend's brow is furrowed so very often, it is a miracle deep creases don't run along his forehead, forever and eternally, impossible to smooth out again.

She drinks her tea and sighs, then asks: "What's it now?"

Because a moment ago, he'd grinned at her theories as to why Toph is late.

Instead of saying something, he just jerks his head – as subtly as Zuko-ly possible – to the Jasmine Dragon's large front windows, and she follows his gaze to see Toph stand outside, next to a boy who'd just been inside, she's rather sure, because his hair is dyed blue and he's wearing a bright-orange shirt, and looking like that, there's very few ways to blend in.

She's never seen him before today (and if the scowl is anything to go by, neither has Zuko), but Toph seems to be grinning at him, and he's rubbing his neck nervously with a bony hand. His words are wrapped around his wrist in deep, deep brown – maybe even black –, but from a distance and through the glass, they're impossible to make out.

Most people cover their words, if at all possible, to avoid smoothtalkers and con-artists, but it seems he doesn't.

Or maybe he's just forgotten.

Suki turns back to Zuko, who doesn't turn back to her.

"So? She's talking to a boy."

"So, who is he? What's he want from her? He bought apple juice at the greatest tea shop in the city, I'm not sure if I can trust him."

He takes a sip of his tea, like one might drag on a cigarette to let a sentence linger for just a moment longer, to let the words seep into his listener's mind – then ruins it by promptly by burning his tongue and spluttering, looking at the cup with deep betrayal in his eyes.

She stifles a laugh.

"You're such an idiot."

Outside the tea shop, Aang steps from one foot to the other, because he can breathe and he does know his name, but that doesn't change the fact that his soulmate stands in front of him, and that she's pretty, incredibly pretty, with dark hair that looks very soft, and porcelain skin and milky green eyes that can't see him, he realises once more, but still seem more attentive than most people's eyes.

Her smile is nice, just a little bit smug, carving a dimple into her right cheek, and he wonders in what colour her words are painted onto her and who read them to her, because somebody must've – and he regrets a little that the first thing he's ever said to his soulmate is "Monkeyfeathers!", a phrase he'd been told to drop countless times by not only Sokka.

Maybe he should've.

Maybe it doesn't matter.

It's not like she spoke her first sentence how he'd imagined it, either.

There'd been a lot less dreamy sighs and much more humour in her voice than he'd dreamed about.

Somehow, he doesn't mind.

"Well", she says, and he swallows against the lump in his throat, because her voice really does sound lovely, and he wants to keep hearing it, "I think I should go inside now. My friends are waiting, and I'd like to change out of this shirt. It's a bit sticky."

He feels heat creep up his neck. His ears have been burning since he bumped into her.

"Yeah ... sorry about that again. Maybe ... I ... maybe I could ... pay for your tea ... or whatever you wanna buy ... to make up for it, y'know. Because ... I am very sorry."

"I drink for free."

She grins.

He looks through the shop's windows, surprised, and sees a boy about Sokka's age glowering at him – though maybe it's just the large scar over his left eye that makes him look so angry, and Aang's heart sinks a little before he looks back at Toph.

"You do?"

"Sure. You wanna come with? Maybe Uncle'll replace your drink, too."

She's already moving, taking the step before the door with practiced ease, and her hand's on the handle, and he doesn't have her number, doesn't even know her last name, so of course he follows.

(He would've done so, anyway.)

(Did she say the tea shop is her uncle's?)

Suki grips Zuko's arm, nails boring through his thin sleeve.

He swats at her hand.

"Ouch! Let go off me."

He knows, of course, why she's holding onto his upper arm so tightly – Toph's finally opened the door, and the boy is trailing behind her like a lost puppy, on his face an expression Zuko's not entirely sure how to interpret, but something along the lines of 'lovesick' would probably describe it pretty well.

She slips through the tables better than he does (he always bumps into at least one of them, spilling tea and words of excuses, and if he's lucky, it'll be one of the regulars, who just chuckle and pat his shoulder by now), and when she reaches their table, the corners of Suki's mouth have practically reached her ears in the most terrifying grin that Zuko has ever seen.

"Yo."

He blinks.

The boy does, too.

"You've got clothes in the back, right?"

She indicates her shirt, wet and clinging to her in a way that it shouldn't, so Zuko nods, then clears his throat: "Sure."

"Cool. Aang, these are Suki and Zuko. Guys, Monkeyfeathers. Be right back."

And off she is again.

Zuko's brain stops functioning for a moment, and though he can see very clearly on Suki's face that this is what she expected it to be, he can't quite wrap his mind around what's happening right now, because he'd just assumed this – the boy, Aang, Monkeyfeathers – is some long lost friend.

Somebody trying to chat Toph up.

Or the other way around, if they are being honest.

Aang grips the back of a free chair.

"I'm Aang", he says, because what else is there to say, really?

"Nice to meet you, Aang. C'mon, sit down. We're thrilled to meet you."

And if the look on her face is anything to go by, she actually is, too.

Zuko, however, isn't sure what to make of the boy who slides into the chair next to Suki's with a smile and a muttered thank you. He looks nice enough, he supposes, with an open face and clear grey eyes, but one doesn't grow up with a sister like Azula to not learn that looks can be deceiving.

"It's ... nice to meet you, too."

He doesn't seem entirely sincere.

His eyes are locked to the door Toph has vanished through.

She is ... calm.

She is completely and utterly calm.

No – yes, she is, the eye of the storm, a mountain, unmovable, calm and collected, and her heart isn't beating a mile a minute, of course it's not, that would ridiculous, and she isn't feeling hot, why would she, everything's fine, everything is normal, she just needs to change out of this shirt, because it's sticky, and that all that's bothering her, everything else is just perfect.

The door swings shut behind her, and open again when a waiter exits.

Toph breathes in.

Somewhere to her right, an apron rustles.

"Hey, Uncle?"

And her voice isn't shaking.

It's not.

"Where does Zuko keep his spare clothes?"

He steps closer and then around her and says, in a voice that makes her think he knows exactly what's going on and what to do: "I will get them for you. Say, who's the handsome young man you brought with you?"

She tightens her grip around her cane.

"Wasn't he just in here?"

"Yes."

A sigh, then a low grunt, and a cupboard door is closed.

"But I'm afraid we didn't get to talk much. It is rather slow going, lucky for you, but he was in and out very quickly. Here you go."

A shirt is put into her free hand.

"Thank you ... His name's Aang."

"Hm. A very nice name."

"... it is."

She bites her lip, and leans her cane against the wall. Iroh starts humming a happy little tune as he starts bustling around the kitchen again.

Muffled by the sticky t-shirt as she pulls it over her head, she says: "He's my soulmate."

The man keeps humming for a moment longer.

"Your soulmate", he says, much less eloquently than she'd hoped. "Well, that's certainly something. He looks like a very nice fellow; a very open face."

She isn't quite sure what that means, but he makes it sound like a compliment, so she supposes that's good; it makes her heart slow down a little. But she still feels smaller than she does normally, and unusually unsure of herself, and Zuko's shirt nearly reaching her knees doesn't help with that.

"You want to hide in here for a moment longer?"

"I left him with with Suki and Zuko ..."

"Ah. Then maybe you should go back."

"Maybe I should."

#Avatar: The Last Airbender #Aang #Toph #Taang #Suki #Zuko #Soulmate AU #destiny fate and what's written in the stars

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fantasyfandommaiden · 5 years ago

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ML Counsellor AU: Gabriel Agreste’s Session

Occurring post Collector

Carmine had a personal code when it came to her patients. Whoever they were, no matter who or what they were, if they wanted help, she would do everything in her power to help. In this one case, she hated her personal code.

If it weren’t for the fact of this personal code, as well as her duties to the city, and the favour she owed, this session would not be happening. But her she was.

A knock at the door made Carmine look up and let out a sigh, straightening slightly as she called “It’s open.”

The door opened and her next patient walked in, before they stood in front of her desk, looking down at Carmine through black framed glasses as she looked up to them evenly with a tight lipped smile. “Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Agreste?”

[[MORE]]

Gabriel had sat down in Carmine’s office without so much as a word, looking Carmine over with judgemental eyes, no doubt appraising her clothing choices. Nathalie had warned her before booking the appointment that appearances were important to him. Carmine reminded Nathalie that Gabriel could go take a swan dive into the Seine for all she cared about his option, but for her friends sake she wore some of her ‘nicer’ clothes.

“No Mlle Regal, I do not require any tea. I wish to get this over with as soon as possible.” He said, adjusting his ascot as he looked around the room.

Carmine brought her own tea cup up to her lips, taking a sip of the calming tea she had brewed before his arrival and felt the effect of the brew almost instantly wash away her irritation in an instant. Gabriel looked over at her quickly, a look of confusion on his face. Carmine simply raised a brow at him as she took another sip of her tea before speaking.

“Very well. I understand you were Akumatized yesterday?” She said to him, looking at him with her hazel eyes “How exactly did that happen?”

“Hawkmoth sent an akuma after me because I was upset, I imagine you would know how it works by now Mlle Regal.” Gabriel responded curtly, looking at Carmine with a disapproving expression on his face.

If Carmine hadn’t taken the calming tea brew, she would have smacked that look off his face. Although this was technically the first time she has ever met the man, she had heard many things from both the students, as well as Nathalie. Parents who had no involvement in their kids life were a pet peeve of hers, along with controlling parent. So him being a parent with no involvement in Adrien’s life, along with micromanaging his ever single activity? Oh, she did not like him one bit.

Carmine looked at him with a raised brow “So, shall I guess why you were upset than? Perhaps someone made a critique about your next fashion line and you disagreed? There are some people who are saying your losing your touch, your last few lines only received mixed reviews, leaning more towards the negative, no?” She asked innocently, looking at Gabriel with a coy expression. “Not that I know much about Parisian high fashion.”

Carmine took a bit of pleasure in his look of disapproval at the shade she threw at him, taking another sip of her tea “I’m not a mind reader Mr. Agreste, if you don’t tell me HOW it happened, I can’t help.”

“Adrien took something of mine without asking, than lost it, I became upset, Hawkmoth than Akumatized me.” He awnsered curtly, looking at Carmine boredly “The item has since been returned p, luckily undamaged, so everything is fine.”

Carmine looked at him with a deadpanned stare at his statement. Really? He got mad over a stolen item, that has got to be- no. Carmine took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. She was letting her personal feelings get involved, she had to stay objective about this. “I take it this item was very important, to cause such a reaction?” She asked him slowly.

At first, it didn’t seem like he would respond, however he finally spoke out “It was the last gift my wife gave me before her disappearance.” He stated truthfully “... I often look to it for inspiration well designing, and the fact that Adrien took it without telling me, than lost it... angered me.”

Carmine looked at Gabriel with a neutral expression as she observed the designer, taking another sip of her calming tea for good measure before speaking “Did Adrien know that before he took the item?” She asked.

“No, he did not.”

“So you than punished him by not allowing him to go to school?”

Gabriel glared at Carmine who continued to look at him with a neutral expression “We are here to discuss me being Akumatized, not my family.”

“Your family has to do with you being Akumatized, so we will need to discuss it. You know most parents would just take away a cellphone, or ground them for this sort of thing, but to isolate Adrien completely is going a bit overboard. What if he had been Akumatized?”

“So are you saying I should never dissaplean my son if he does something wrong?” He sneered, glaring at Carmine.

Carmine looked at him with a raised brow “No. I’m saying that the punishment should fit the crime. You wouldn’t sentence a child to life in prison for taking a candy bar from a corner store would you? Also, Adrien is a very respectable, polite boy. If he had known that the item was SO important to you, I doubt he would have taken it without asking you first.” Carmine stated bluntly to him.

“Don’t act as if you know my son.” Gabriel stated darkly “From what I understand, he has never so much as spoken to you.”

“And you would know this from your daily luncheons that you have with him correct? Where he sits eating at home, alone.” Carmine stated, looking at Gabriel straight in the eye, as if daring him to argue with her “I may not speak with Adrien, but I hear things in the hallways. ‘Poor Adrien, his dad bailed on him again for lunch, but he won’t let him have lunch with friends.’ Those are the type of things I hear from students in the hallways, as well as from the expression on Adrien’s face when he tries to argue that you are simply busy.”

Gabriel was gripping the arms of his chair as he glared at Carmine darkly, but the woman wasn’t backing down or wavering from the intense stare. “When was the last time you even had a meal with your son?”

“When was the last time you had a meal with your family?” Gabriel argued back. He remembered how Nathalie had stated that Carmine’s family all lived in the states and she could only see them during long breaks or holidays, surely this would shut the woman up-

“Last night, we had pancakes.” Carmine replied back easily, causing Gabriel to pause, looking at her confused, and he felt his argument falling apart. Were they visiting? “We Skype eachother at least once a week to have a ‘meal’ together. This can be a bit hard since we are seven hours a head of New Orleans, but my family and I make it work.” She said, sipping her tea, looking at Gabriel “Now... when was the last time YOU had a meal with Adrien, Mr. Agreste?” She asked again calmly.

Gabriel scowled at Carmine, adjusting himself somewhat in his seat as he stared her down. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he sat down to have a meal with Adrien. “I wish to change the subject.”

Carmine did her best to not smile triumphantly as she simply shrugged “Very well. You said your wife gave you the item, and Adrien is aware of its importance now. Have you spoken to Adrien about her disappearance?”

“We are here to discuss my Akumatization, but my family life Mlle Regal.” Gabriel all but snapped at her, glarring at her “You would do well to remember that.”

Carmine took a deep breath as she sipped her calming brew again, thinking happy thoughts as the brew took its affect.

Gabriel looked at her somewhat annoyed “What on earth is in that tea?!” He asked somewhat annoyed. Her emotions would get annoyed than calm after drinking it, it occurred faster than a blink of the eye.

Carmine looked at him with a raised brow, still sipping her team “... Camomile, jasmine, a bit of lavender, and lots of honey...” she stared to him nonchalantly. ‘As well as some calming agents not found at the farmers market and a bit of magic...’ she thought to herself privately “I had asked Nathalie if you had any allergies, she responded in the negative.”

Gabriel continued to look at the tea cup in confusion, shaking his head “No... it’s just that you seem to be... enjoying that tea greatly.”

It was Carmine’s turn to raise a brow as she looked at the elder Agreste, sipping her tea again before placing the tea cup down on the table. “Mr. Agreste, I understand that talking about the disappearance of your wife is difficult, truly I do. I have spoken with many people who grieve for the loss of a loved one.” She said of him, looking at Gabriel “But you have to remember, you are not the only one grieving, and by not telling Adrien the importance of the item that was taken, and unjustifiable punishing him, that could have caused your relationship to strain even more. I’m not saying don’t punish him. He did take something from you without asking, and that is wrong. But you need to make the punishment fit the crime.” Carmine than gave him a hard look as she than stated to the man “You need to talk to your son so you are both able to improve your relationship before it is too late.”

Gabriel gave Carmine a long, hard look before standing up, straightening up his suit “... I do believe we are done here, Mlle Regal. My Akumatizion was a horrid experience, and I have moved on. I am sure that once this whole thing is over, everyone could forget about it.”

Carmine looked back at him, leaning back in her chair “You mean when Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat Hawkmoth, I am assuming.”

“what else could I mean?” Gabriel countered back, begining to walk out fo the room.

“Deflection. Interesting.” Carmine mused, picking up her tea cup and sipping it as Gabriel stopped just before opening her door, glancing back at her with a glare.

“Good bye Mlle Regal, I hope we do not ever have to meet again.”

Carmine looked back at him with a cheeky grin “Oh, Mr. Agreste, I assure you the feeling is entirely mutual. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

#ml salt #ladybug au #ml au #counsellor au #gabriel agreste bashing #gabriel agreste #carmine regal #miraculous ladybug: tales of ladybug and chat noir #counselling session

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ythmir-writes · 6 years ago

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fandom: Midnight Cinderella character: Albert Burkchardt warnings for uhmmm that citrus fruit scale where its vanilla

hellyeahokaythis is i THINK MY FIRST FANFIC for MidCin i have nothing to say formyself

originally posted on main original timestamp: 30 September 2015

Damn That Dress

When you dress up like that, I want to keep you all to myself.”

The words had been running through Albert’s head all night and for the umpteenth time, he tried his damnest to steady his heart. He could still remember the blush on (Y/N)’s face, followed by a small pout, and the words, “But I picked this out for you.”

He didn’t have it in his heart to make her change the outfit. How could he? He was certain that a lot of thought had been put into choosing the dress, not to mention the hours and cost of hiring people to have it made. But what stuck with him the most was what the princess had said.

It was for him.

He couldn’t explain it even to himself why he said what he had said. The only thing he was sure of, was that if it was for him then he wanted it for him alone. Just for his eyes alone. And he had said it, hadn’t he? At first he wanted her to change outfits. He could still feel the almost overwhelming desire to scoop her up and bring her to his room. But then thought against it. That would be rude. And certainly not the way a Stein knight should act.

So he had agreed, begrudgingly, and escorted (Y/N) to the ballroom. He had almost regretted it instantly, what with the nobles and bureaucrats swarming around her instantly. Even King Byron had approved of her gown, and Nico had pleasantly commented on how gorgeous she looked. For a moment he wanted to make something up in order for her to definitely change. He didn’t like the way the other people stared at her, and he dared not imagine what they were thinking. Just when he was about to decide, (Y/N) motioned for him to come closer, and when he had reached her, she had stood on the tips of her toes and whispered,

“They can look all they want but this for you, Al.”

Albert couldn’t quite hide the blush he knew was forming on his cheeks, “Of course. I knew that.” And he coughed nervously, hoping the blush would go away quickly.

(Y/N) giggled at him, and for what seemed to be fiftieth time that night, Albert could feel a warm need growing inside him.

The end of the ball came not soon enough for him. Nico and the other knights had seen to the other guests, including (Y/N), who had her hand casually on Nico’s arm. Albert tried not to think about it too much, and focused on escorting King Byron to his chambers.

“Wait a minute, Albert.” King Byron called out to him just as he was about to leave. “Tonight’s ball, how did you find it?”

Albert’s brows furrowed. “It was excellent, your majesty. The guests were very much pleased. And if I’m not mistaken, one of our lords was able to a secure a good deal with Laurelia’s nobles with regards to rights for breeding with our horses. Everything according to your plans, your majesty.”

“Hmmmm.” King Byron raised his eye to look at him. “And what about your plans? Did they go just as well?”

“I don’t understand -”

“You’ve been looking at her. All night.”

Albert almost cursed himself as he felt himself blush yet again. “King Byron, I was making sure the princess was not being bothered or harrassed by any of the other nobles. Our relations with Wysteria is just as crucial as all the other countries. As captain of the knights, it is my duty to ensure that the ball goes as smoothly as possible for all our guests. Princess (Y/N) is important and valuable to m- Stein, and I will not allow any harm to come to her.”

King Byron smiled at him, and motioned towards the door. “You may take your leave, Al. If you don’t hurry, she might just fall asleep. Nico escorted her to her room, didn’t he?”

Albert bowed deeply, unable to say the things he had in his mind about the fact that he had seen Nico chatting with the princess all night long, and settled for, “Thank you, your majesty. Good night.”

Without missing a beat, Albert quickly headed towards (Y/N)’s chambers, his head filled with thoughts he wasn’t all too familiar with, and a strong, needy desire in his gut that had been demanding his attention the moment he had seen (Y/N) that night.

He didn’t hesitate to knock upon reaching her chambers and when he heard a voice telling him to come in, he didn’t even think twice.

“Sir Albert.” (Y/N) stood up from her chair, smiling. But then her smile turned to concern.“Is there anything wrong? You look troubled.”

“It’s late. Your not changed yet.” Albert closed the door behind him slowly and dared not take another step. Not when he could feel all sorts of things in him. Not with her hair a messy tumble of (H/C).

And her dress. Goddamn that dress.

It was the color of midnight sky, with pearls as stars scattered across the universe. It had a high collar and was rather conservative at front, with intricate rose and lily embrodieries. But it was the fact that her entire back was exposed that had set off alarm bells inside Albert’s head. Not to mention the fact that the gown was snugly fitting her waist and showing of her collar bones and shoulders quite temptingly.

“I’m sorry, I had requested for some tea to help me calm down.” Again her smile. “You know how it is after these events. I still get the jitters after.” She motioned towards the chair. “Would you like to join me?”

Albert couldn’t have said no. He crossed the room in two steps and stood beside the princess, taking the teapot to pour tea for them both. He noticed that the cup before him was already filled with warm, jasmine tea. And he was just about to say something about it when (Y/N) cut him off.

“I have been expecting you,” she said, blushing up to her ears. “Or rather, I had hoped you would come. But I didn’t really think you would. It’s just that you were so busy and all, and I didn’t want to cause trouble. I wanted -”

Albert leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She tasted like the sweet tarts that had been served as dessert earlier, strawberries and cream, and his head whirled with thoughts of doing more. He kissed her again, deeper this time, savoring the way she tasted and the way she moved her lips against his.

He tried to steady himself as he moved his head away. He kept one hand firmly on the small of the (Y/N)’s back, keeping her close. She was blushing, and was looking up at him with her mouth still slightly open. With his free hand, he traced her lips gently, and he felt her quiver under his touch.

And that was all what Albert needed to push him over the edge. With one swift movement, he lifted her up in his arms. She gave a small laugh, half surprised half delighted, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, and she moved to kiss him again. With practised ease, he walked towards the bed, and sat down, steadying her on his lap.

(Y/N) reached to take his glasses but he caught her wrist, his grip both gentle and firm, and said, “I like to keep them on.”

“But we might break them again.” She said. “The last time you -”

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. I want to see you properly all throughout.” And without saying anything else, he kissed her again, hungrily, pouring his desire unto her as he found her tongue. She moaned, her hands on his chest, and he felt himself harden at the sound.

He moved his lips to her neck, nibbling. When he reached its base, he bit her and (Y/N) moaned, her hands moving to his hair. He could feel her getting warmer all over, especially between her legs.

His hands moved to the her back, tracing her exposed skin, making her moan further with anticipation and pleasure. He found the small clasps at the the base of her spine, unhooking them with a swiftness that was urgent and needy. For a moment, he thought it was a shame for her to take it off but he wanted to feel her skin against him, wanted to feel her warmth all over him.

She moaned his name as the dress came free and she tugged at his clothes too, unclasping the hooks of his uniform and finally removing his shirt. Her fingers moved to trace the scar on his chest, and he couldn’t help but kiss her as she did. He felt her hesitate for a moment, and he looked at her.

She was blushing again, yet there was a glow to her skin now. And he looked at her with wonder.

“What is it, Al?” She asked.

He couldn’t explain it. He just felt it and damn did he feel deeply. He placed one hand behind her neck, the other moving up her back, pulling her closer. And he whispered, “Mine.”

He was on top of her now, his hand holding both of her wrists above her head, his knee parting her legs. Her breathing was partly ragged, partly moaning as he moved and filled her up. She tensed, then relaxed, and Albert himself let escape a moan.

If anybody were to ask Albert what he felt about the Princess of Wysteria, he knew he wouldn’t be able to answer straight. He was a knight of Stein after all, and issues were complicated at best. But he didn’t want that to be the starting point of his explanation on how it made him happy to hear her laugh, of how he wanted to protect her (something he doubted the knights of Wysteria could accomplish), of how he wanted to always be by her side. But most importantly, of how much he loved her.

Albert watched (Y/N)’s expression change, her breathing shallower and quicker, her legs tensing around his waist. He let her wrists go and she instantly raised her hands and moved to link themselves around his neck. He continued to move, aware of his nearing orgasm.

Without missing a beat, he raised himself up, (Y/N)’s legs following suit, still wrapped around him. She gave a small surprised yelp that turned into a low, husky moan as his thrusts were deeper, harder. In response, (Y/N)’s legs almost went limp, and he felt her almost clamping around him as he continued.

“Albert, I’m-” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence, the rest lost as she moaned with pleasure, her legs twitching, her hips responding to his. She tried holding on to his arms but she could only reach his chest, and when her nails dug at his skin, Albert came as well, moaning as he did.

He did his best to try not to collapse on top of her, and succeeded at doing so beside her instead. She giggled at him, her eyes still glazed with pleasure.

“Your glasses didn’t slip this time.” She said, raising herself up on her elbows, and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“No, it didn’t.” He answered. “I wouldn’t want to miss all those expressions on your face. I love the way you look whenever i take you to bed.”

At this, (Y/N) let out a laugh.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. Its just that you’re so honest.” She said. “And that’s what I love most about you, Albert.”

Albert’s eyes widened, then he smiled. He moved to face her, his arm around her waist possessively. “I’m sorry I asked you to change earlier. That wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be jealous like that. It’s just that,” He paused, “I didn’t like the idea of other people having impure thoughts about you.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “It’s all right, I’m not angry about that anymore. I just wanted to be beautiful for you tonight. I wanted you to be proud of me, in a way.”

“I’ll always be proud of you.” Albert moved a lock of hair from her face. “And you looked absolutely stunning tonight. Just as you always do.”

She beamed at him, and he felt her swell with pride. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Yes, you did.”

#midnight cinderella #albert burckhardt #ythmir writes #ythmir fanfics #nico meier #byron wagner #ohboyyyyyyyyyyyyy #i think this is my one and only smut fanfic too haha

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kanghuteh · 6 years ago

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the loneliness of the way

In many ways the beginning of 茶道, the way of tea, for me was in Manila. Living in Mabuhay Temple, the Chinese auntie who came in with her crystals and gold, silk shirts, antique yixing tea ware and delicate porcelains sat us down with 肉餅/hopia and proceeded to brew a Tie Guan Yin oolong for all 15 or so of us retreat members. She had her Filipino helpers set up a driftwood table with a built-in drain, her kettles, and a set of smelling cups and drinking cups. She told us about the story of the oolong, an Iron Guan Yin statue blessing a devotee with the tea leaves, as green as jade. Her yixing cups coated with glaze on the inside smelled fragrant as she showed us how to hold the cup gently, like the hand of a beloved, warming the walls of the clay to help the scent rise up into the air. She told us to take a bite of the hopia made of mung bean, and as we drank said to see if we could see how the flavor changed, how every brew was different, bringing out more and more notes. Could we be mindful of this?

Almost everyone didn’t seem to care much, the troublemakers making noise, the rest just grateful to be eating. It was later in the day and we were all starving from Kung Fu drills, cleaning the temple, and learning about Ch’an meditation and Mahayana Buddhist theory. But the way she returned again and again to show us how to hold the lid of the pot, how to hold the gaiwan, trying her best to stay calm in the face of students refusing to listen to her—it told me something about how the way of tea supported her Buddhist practice. She reminded us of the Guan Yin outside, holding her vase of holy water out into the world, blessing us with compassion over and over again, how the taste of oolong spread in our mouths much like this benediction.

The first person I drank tea in this way with again was a man I met in Kaohsiung, the last month of my stay with Fo Guang Shan. It was a budding romance as I balanced the decision to continue with this path or to return to the world. One day, he invited me to walk down from our mountaintop monastery to the visiting hall at the foot of the mountain to drink tea. We walked around and decided to try some tea. The lady offered us some oolong and we drank together, savoring the flavor, my heart turning towards the world again. He asked the tea host to snap a photo of us as we drank the tea, thanked her for her time, and left.

After that, tea was mostly a lonely affair for me. After having married him and moving to San Francisco, when I picked up the way of the tea, it was not something we would do much together, as I thought we would. The strain of our issues, our diverging paths slowly becoming evident. Once I cooked a Lunar New Year’s meal for us and prepared some tea and he refused to join, citing a moon day, wearing all white. I sat and finished the dumplings myself, brewed myself some tea for the night, the celadon cup clinking on the glass pitcher as I poured the tea, clear and hued. What was love like, I asked myself, what was partnership like. The tea splashed and looked, for a second like a quiet river being pooled into a vessel.

Of course, it wasn’t like we didn’t have tea together, but the times I sat down for tea and invited him to join were spurned too many times, in such violent ways, that perhaps it was wise that I acknowledged the beginning separation for what it was instead of hoping it would go away.

We shared many meals with tea together, but these times are always coupled with a memory of his impatience, his dislike of something or the other. I think in our marriage, he only sat down for tea with me alone twice. Near the end of our marriage, I took out jasmine mung bean cakes, some pastries, made some dumplings, brewed some jasmine pearls a Mandarin teacher gave us and invited him to sit. He grabbed a few dumplings and left the room.

Of course, other times he joined in when his friends or our friends would come, happily chatting. Those were good nights filled with soft music, small clouds of incense, and tea, late into the night.

After he announced he was leaving for an attempt at being a monk, I didn’t drink tea with anyone for a long time. I often brewed tea for myself in my room, at first meditating so hard at his urging, him asking me to follow him into his path. At night I would brew a bitter mix of chrysanthemum, chamomile, and valerian root in my gaiwan and gulp it down, praying for sleep to take over sooner so I would no longer have to cry. The first month of that separation, I would wake up and sit intently, brew a cup, praying for the same sense of renunciation to appear within me again. I wanted to follow him because I still loved him. And one day I found that I had to stop. It became clear: it was not my path now. I would brew tea for myself to wake up at first, and eventually stopped. It didn’t feel right to brew tea now, something I had hoped to keep doing with this man for the rest of my life. The way of tea, the way of Buddha Dharma felt so utterly lonely now. There was no one in the Bay I could sit with to explain my sadness to, no one in the Bay who could say: this was unfair but your acceptance of it is also virtuous, also good, also strong. Instead I dismantled my shrine, put away my gold statues, returned further into the world.

One of the last things we did together was to have tea. He insisted upon it and at the time I only obliged because I missed drinking tea with someone. I began brewing occasionally for myself at our NYC apartment, the one I asked him to join me in for my immigration’s sake and for his sake—he was falling in love with an ex and had hoped to pursue a life with him. I told him if he wanted to truly be a monk he should leave this man behind and begin pursuing his intention of renunciation more definitely.

This night that we drank tea, he was on his way to a meditation group that I had always wanted to attend, that I’d stayed with prior to our move to the city. I stayed away for his whole time here because I didn’t want for us to be associated together then, I wanted him to build his own way into the path. It didn’t feel right to stand by him as a companion in this way when he had stopped being mine, even as a friend. This night we drank together, I enjoyed the teas and for an hour we were back to being old friends. As we left the distance grew larger and larger. He asked me to join him for a sit, but it was much too painful. After all, how could I return to the faith that brought me this much pain?

Only when I look back now do I see the importance of this moment. He was asking me to relive the things we did together as a farewell. Tea was one of the things we did. But at that point, I didn’t need a farewell from him. I just needed him to be kind.

Our time together in New York has been perhaps one of the most painful ones in my life. After this tea session, he would call me an enemy who was forcing him to stay in the world. He was quite selfish in his method of renouncing. I couldn’t say it then, but now I can. I can acknowledge it now and begin to heal. Even though New York has opened many old scars, created dark times in my heart, it also reminded me of friends I could have outside of this, good friends who still stuck around after our marriage and friends I knew from back then, and friends I was about to make.

I slowly began to pick up the way of tea again. An old friend from our time in Kaohsiung, who knew us from the beginning of our relationship visited New York. She invited me to come try out tea houses with her, places I didn’t think I would ever go to. She sat down in a tea house and listened to my story, held space for me, and acknowledged the pain I had endured in that relationship: the racism, the privilege, the harshness of it all. For once, I was allowed to acknowledge the wholesome and the unwholesome in how he treated me. It felt that all our other Buddhist friends during our marriage had never once let me do that. The loneliness eased a little bit. I could begin to heal then. I didn’t have to revere him as a saint just because his actions now are purer: I could still say that in the past, he was unwholesome and he hurt me in many ways. I didn’t have to deny that that had happened just because he was a holy man now.

So now the way of tea has taught me, much as it did earlier on, that it was a way to hold space for myself and others. It could bring me peace again, much like how my return to the Dharma on my own terms, not one manipulated by my feelings for someone, brought me ease. So I begin opening my space, holding space for those who need this same healing. My friends in dharma and tea taught me these same things, reminding me that I am able to hold space for others to express their griefs and that I can trust others to hold space for me in this way. I’m always grateful for this lesson. The way of tea taught me that. There is still camaraderie and companionship in this world. Living and the way to enlightenment of any sort, for being useful to the world is inherently lonely, but what tea has shown me is that it can occasionally be a little less lonely.

Nowadays I begin picking up the gaiwan, pour tea in my own tea room, invite people to come. I want to be open again. I want to share grief and joy to those who want to. To acknowledge our hearts and to always, always be able to say hello anyway. A tea tray I have says that the fragrance of tea fills the room. I want to say: the fragrance of a listened heart also fills the room, and tea helps that happen.

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flickityfics · 4 years ago

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Chapter: Job Hunting

"Hi, I heard you guys needed builders for an architect job? I can promise you I'm a tough worker and I'm actually pretty good with designs and planning as well. " Sokka put on a hopeful smile, this was the sixth job he was trying to get with no results.

"Miss, look you don't look like you can do much and I also doubt you would know the complexities of architecture so shoo, go cook somewhere." The man mocked sarcastically.

Sokka had to grit his teeth in anger and keep from shouting his frustrations to this man. "I don't know how to cook." He said through clenched teeth.

"Not my problem, I'm not having a girl slow our progress down." The man turned from him swiftly ignoring his presence.

All the water tribe boy could do was huff and walk away. He was frustrated when all the people he went looking for a job only saw him as a weak and dumb girl. He really started feeling shitty about the ways he treated his sister more often now, 'I hope katara and the gaang are doing better than me' he was missing them and feeling dejected about not finding a job as fast as he could. When he was a boy it was so easy before. Sokka kept walking along the path til he heard something promising up ahead and started walking faster.

"Uh, hi, I heard you were looking for a young girl to be a washer?" He stopped in front of the elder lady.

"Ah, yes I am indeed. you offering?" She asked kindly.

"Yes I am." 'finally this was great news, now I'll have money just before running out!' Sokka couldn't help but sag in relief internally.

"Have you had prior experience with washing?"

"Only a bit." He hardly ever washed clothes, he always fought over that with Katara and somehow managed to get out of that duty more often than not.

"That's fine, you can learn. There's not much to it really. You can come back here tomorrow afternoon." The lady informed him.

"Thank you so much." He smiled and waved her off with a new bounce to his step. He headed back to the inn wanting to get his clothes ready for tomorrow and to grab his journals to head for the Jasmine Dragon, 'got some exciting news for you Zuko'

Back in his room Sokka had laid his clothes for tomorrow and started to clean up a bit. Once he was done looking around his room seeing if there was anything out of place did he catch his reflection in the mirror, he's been pretty good in avoiding it and just needing it for quick glimpses of his clothes being properly on and hair presentable nothing else. 'Guess its time for a proper look' he takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes tightly removing the clothes from his new body. He shudders as he opens his eyes and scans himself, he wants to cry knowing this isn't his body, he's not comfortable in it, he doesn't understand it, he's gotta face new obstacles with this body and he hates it. Sokka roughly wipes the tears from his eyes not wanting to cry about it anymore, he gets past the anger, hurt and fear to take it all in. The stretch marks on the breasts of this body captures his attention, he always thought those kinda marks got there if you were older, he traces the marks to cupping the soft, warm breasts, it does nothing to arouse him when he knows he would have gotten aroused at seeing a women's chest up close like this in his own male body, 'maybe girls don't actually like getting their chest groped or fondled' he certainly didn't feel anything as he played with his new chest. Sokka then looked further down tilting his side not really getting a reaction to this new bit either. The vagina had curls just like his own pubic hairs but instead of his penis jutting out, it was just flat and dipped, He played with the curls and started twirling the curls and 'oh that felt nice' twisting the curls felt like a nice tease he couldn't help thinking. Feeling embarrassed going anything further did he abruptly stop and go for a shower wanting to visit the tea shop and Zuko to distract himself from his current predicament.

Being back in the tea shop felt surprisingly relaxing considering it should feel more terrifying what with Zuko and his uncle always hunting them down. He spotted Zuko immediately in the kitchen working on some dish, he waved wildly until he got the other teens attention and laughing at the blush that worked up Zuko's pale skin, he looked around and noticed the other patrons laughing no doubt at his and Zuko's strange duo. He turned back to Zuko signaling with his pointer finger where he'd be sitting at, he got a nod of confirmation in return then headed to a table to wait.

"Hey Miyuki, is there anything you'd like to order?" The young prince asked.

Sokka drummed his fingers on the table thinking, "I'd like those cute flower shaped cookies, I'm craving something sweet." He watched as Zuko nodded his head and walked back to his uncle saying he'll be back quickly.

Zuko was back with a steaming cup and sliding it towards him as he sat across him.

"What's this?"He grabbed for the cup cautiously not wanting to burn himself, the contents of the beverage was milk with a sweet smell to it.

"Cinnamon milk tea, its good with the cookies and bread." Zuko offered shyly.

Sokka quirked up his lips, "Thanks. So you have a bit of time to chat then? I really need to get your schedule so I don't always interrupt your work."

"I pretty much work as soon as the shop opens and til it closes. If I want a day off my uncle lets me take it." Zuko knows how depressing that sounds but he honestly prefers it to the way he lived before, with all the hate bubbling inside him and never truly following his own path, he preferred this quiet peaceful life, he did miss his old life every once in awhile, he missed his home but not with the high expectations, demands or constant belittling and criticism. He knows how cowardice it is to not face his family and one day him and uncle will have to stop running but not today, today he'll spend this with Miyuki before he loses it all, at least with this he'll have some good memories to cling to once he's ripped away from this little fantasy of his.

"You're so lucky, I would love to get that at my new job which brings me to why I'm here. I just wanted to let you know and that I start first thing tomorrow." Sokka felt excited to tell someone the news even if it was to Zuko.

"What job did you get?"

"I'll be working as a washer, I tried other places but they all shot me down just because I was a girl, didn't matter if I had previous experience either. " Sokka pouted in annoyance remembering all the frustrations from hours earlier.

"Sorry to hear that, maybe it'll get better with the people getting to know you and trusting your hard work." He couldn't help thinking Miyuki was cute with her pout but he also didn't want her having a sour mood.

Sokka perked up at that, "yeah, you're right maybe they just need to see my hard work before trusting me." He felt better already with that mind set. A quiet calmness settled over the two as Sokka reached for his drink sipping it lightly and enjoying the warmth and sweetness it brought to his tongue. The cookies had cooled down awhile ago but still had a nice sugary taste to it. He looked to Zuko scanning him trying to look for anything that might be bring that fearsome and hateful person in front of him instead he got a blushing dork of a teen who couldn't even handle an appraisal from a girl. 'what happened to Zuko? and what was he laying low for?' he'll have to write these down in his notes later with his other theories.

Zuko wasn't quite sure how to take the look Miyuki was giving him, it didn't seem like a rude look more of a deep searching one but still nerve wracking nonetheless almost as though she was trying to unravel him.

"The cookies and milk tea were delicious." Sokka complimented breaking the silence.

Zuko twitched nervously, "Glad you liked them." this southern water tribe girl was going to kill him, he just knew it.

"So tell me about your day, I'm always doing all the talking? It's my turn to listen to your deep soothing voice." Sokka purred the words out leaning forward with his attention on the fire prince.

Zuko could see his soul leaving his body. He was not accustomed to girls saying these types of things. She obviously enjoyed doing this, he huffed in annoyance and looked away glaring towards the kitchens before speaking.

"My day was uneventful, I woke up early for my usual meditation routine, helped uncle with opening the shop and serving customers and now I'm here being pestered by you." He couldn't help the last remark, he wasn't bothered by her at all just embarrassed at the ways she makes him feel and not knowing what to do about it or how to get her back for it. These were uncharted territories, Mai never played these games, she always told him when she was upset and hiding the rest of her emotions, she never flirted like this and Miyuki's flirting was quite different if he could even call it that maybe just teasing really. Either way it left him twitchy and flustered too much.

"I forgot you meditated. You also train don't you? With the dual broadswords you mentioned, when do you find time for that?" Sokka forgot that Zuko trained with his broadswords maybe he could convince him to train him.

"I train after work mostly and on my days off, I do them here on nights up top the roof of the shop." Zuko realized a second to late that he probably shouldn't have mentioned that since most nights he's been going out as the Blue Spirit.

"Would you mind training me at all?"

Zuko saw the eagerness in Miyuki, and he didn't want to say no, looks like he'll just have to take a step back from his nightly activities. "We can do that. I don't mind at all."

"Thanks so much. I'll let you get back to work, I've gotta get going before it gets too dark. I'll come by after work tomorrow to visit and we can talk more." He put change on the table before waving goodbye to Zuko and doing the same to his uncle when he spotted him before leaving out the tea shop. Sokka wondered what tomorrow will bring.

#atla #zuko x sokka #boylove #zukka #temporarygenderbend

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bickwrites · 7 years ago

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Hello, I just wanted to say that I really love your writing style and how you manage to make all your characters come to life. If it's ok to ask, are you planning to write a piece on Alexander Pavos and his family? I always found him and his family to be interesting people. I understand if you're too busy but I wanted to ask.

No problem, thanks for the ask! I’m glad you’re interested in the Pavoses actually because I do intend for them to take center stage in the third Magus Verse story (which will be a long time coming…but I’m already planning it out hohoho). I also have written a little short about Alexandir and Philomel, which I’m putting below under the cut if you’re interested. ^v^

An energos’ scent stirred the air of the Consort’s Court. The heavy musk cut through the sweetness that normally suffused the air, sharp as a heated blade, but it didn’t stir to life any of Philomel Pavos’ instincts.

Indeed, instead of burning her blood and leaving her weak-kneed, it filled her with a calm reassurance. Why shouldn’t it? She recognized the sharp piney tinge to the scent instantly.

It was her brother.

So Philomel remained kneeling before the low table in the private room, her composure perfectly intact. When the door slid open, she sat further upright and put on a calm smile.

A tall man ducked through the door. He moved with the bold, sleek confidence of an energos, a jarring contrast to the elegant ministra stateliness that surrounded Philomel every day. As her brother went to kneel opposite her, the already cozy room seemed to shrink in size, barely able to contain his presence.

Ever since she was little, this was how Philomel had seen her brother - more a force of nature than a human being, with a natural gift for compelling attention wherever he went. When she was younger, she’d believed he could do anything. Now she knew better, but she still couldn’t help relaxing in his presence.

Her brother was here. He would make everything all right.

Alexandir Pavos smiled at her with the forest-green eyes they shared. “It’s been a while. Sorry I couldn’t come sooner, Mel.”

“It’s no problem,” Philomel said. “I’m glad to see you, big brother.”

A Silent Servant served them tea and delicate finger sweets, then left the siblings alone. Through the thin paper and bamboo walls, Philomel could hear the muffled sounds from the rest of the Lotus Mansion - murmuring voices, tinkling string music, the rhythmic tread of servants - but otherwise it was like she and Alexandir were in their own world. These private rooms were the only places where ministra could meet their energos relatives within the coral walls of the Consort’s Court.

Alexandir lived at the royal palace but rarely visited her; he trusted her to take care of herself, and he was quite busy with his work on the Circle of Magi besides. But he had come personally today, because the matter was just that serious.

They didn’t talk about it at first. Philomel poured cups of the fragrant jasmine tea for her brother and herself, and they nibbled at the rice flour dumplings and rosewater candies and lightly chatted about their family back in the Forestlands, her lessons, court gossip. Philomel almost let herself get drawn into the simple comfort of conversing with her brother, where she didn’t have to carefully appraise every word she said and observe for signs of subterfuge and deception.

But that wasn’t the way life worked at court. Not even between family members. Eventually, Alexandir set down his cup and looked at her with serious eyes and said, “Mel, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, big brother?” Philomel kept her voice soft and pleasant, showing the demure submissiveness that had been drilled in her since she had manifested, but her pulse had begun to race. At last, they were cutting to the chase.

“I had no idea….” Sighing, Alexandir raked a hand through his wavy golden hair. “Honestly, that capricious little prince. To think he’d reject you like that - he has no manners.”

Yes, indeed. Life at court, unpredictable as it might be, still followed a basic rhythm. All the players were in tacit agreement of the rules. Until the prince had gone and broken them.

The entire court was still reeling from his announcement a week ago. If Philomel thought too hard about it, the shock stabbed her heart anew, sharp as a bolt of lightning - and just as unexpected. Ever since then, she hadn’t been able to escape the whispers, the furtive glances, the eyes that looked at her with pity.

Philomel couldn’t stand it. She was a Pavos, the most powerful House in Senero. None should pity her.

She kept her rage to herself, of course. It was unseemly for a ministra to display such forward emotions. She must always be pleasant, gentle, kind. All her teachers had taught her over the years. Charm was the weapon of a ministra, and she would use it to ensnare the prince’s heart and advance the Pavos cause. This was her duty to her family, and Philomel had never resented it. Why should she?

Ever since she had manifested as a ministra, ever since her mama had braided the first peacock hairpin into her hair and given her her first set of cosmetics, everyone had told her the same. One day, she would be Royal Consort.

If she was sweet and charming enough. If she practiced her wood magic and became the strongest and most skilled. If she danced with grace and sang with beauty. She would stand above all the ministra and the prince would only have eyes for her. Philomel had never envisioned another destiny for herself.

Often she imagined her bonding ceremony - ministra always did, and many of them imagined bonding with the prince themselves. But while her fellows fantasized, Philomel looked upon them with smug pity because she knew they were just fantasies, while for her it would be reality. It would be her standing beside the prince clad in the peacock robes of Pavos House, the most beautiful ministra in the palace, the most adored, the most fortunate. They would cheer and sing, courtiers, foreigners, and commoners alike, and it would all be because of her.

Now…now it would never come to pass. And she was angry, yes, even though it was unseemly, but more than angry she was disappointed. In her brother, her parents, her tutors, for their blithe reassurances and unshaking faith in her - but above all in herself.

She had tried her best, but it wasn’t good enough.

“Mel.” Alexandir’s voice snapped her back to reality. He leaned across the table toward her, his eyes shining with concern. “Don’t be so depressed now. It’s not over. The prince may have made his decision, but he’s not the only one who gets to choose. The matter of who he bonds with affects all of Senero. Do you think the rest of his family and courtiers will allow his selfish decision to go forward unchallenged?”

“No, big brother,” Philomel said, soft and dutiful.

“That’s right.” Alexandir spoke with increasing energy. “The royal family has always bonded into the Six Great Houses. We are the very foundation of Senero. The Queen and Consort understand this. How could they countenance their heir tying himself to a family of fish merchants? It’s absurd. I have already raised my objections with Her Majesty and Lord Hazan, and I plan to speak to His Highness about it as well.”

“Even so, the decision is the prince’s,” Philomel murmured, gazing at her faint reflection in her half-drained teacup.

“He must take his family’s input in consideration,” Alexandir said. “Mel, have heart. We haven’t lost yet. We just need a new avenue of attack.”

He was reassuring her, yet to Philomel’s dismay it didn’t banish the discontent swirling inside her. Alexandir had not brought it up yet - indeed, it seemed he was deliberately avoiding the subject - but they both knew the real reason why the prince had rejected her. In spite of all her hard work, in spite of the path the Pavos family had so carefully prepared for her.

And it angered Philomel that she’d never once suspected, not until it had been too late. Yes, Aramy Basquiale came from the most insignificant of insignificant houses - but there remained the crucial fact that he was an aether magus. The first to arrive in the palace in generations.

Through her multiple dates and interviews with the prince, Philomel had come to understand one thing about him very well. Even if she had never met him, she would know from the rumors alone. He was obsessed with strength. Obsessed with it, and insecure over his lack of it, and Pavos had hoped to exploit this fact to put themselves in an advantageous position once they tied Philomel to him.

They’d been outwitted by Aramy Basquiale’s very existence. Pavos was powerful, yes, but not in the way that mattered most to the prince - the way that could most help him. Money, political power, influence - what did that matter compared to raw magical potential?

Philomel was a strong magus. She prided herself for this. How could she be a Pavos otherwise? From the moment she’d manifested her aura, controlling plants had come as easily to her as breathing. Now, even unbound as she was, she had already learned how to grow trees in quick-time from a single seed. It was only right for the one who would someday be the most powerful ministra in Senero.

When she was little and still living in the Pavos estate, her tutors had rhapsodized about the prince’s skill with water aura, how it would complement her wood aura perfectly. They would be able to cast the strongest spells together, his water feeding her wood. But when she’d met the prince, she came to understand the truth. The prince could barely summon a single raindrop. His strength would not be able to augment hers in any appreciable matter. She would be the stronger one in the relationship. It might be unnatural, but Philomel had told herself it was all right, because it ensured she would hold the advantage. And through that advantage, she would help Pavos House.

But of course if the prince found a way to give himself the power he so desired, he would seize it in a heartbeat. How come it had never once crossed Philomel’s mind?

“I should have seen it, big brother,” she found herself saying. “I knew all along that Lord Basquiale was an aether magus, but I never even suspected - ”

“That’s right, it all boils down to this Lord Basquiale,” Alexandir said, drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. “I should have kept a more careful eye on him…I met him a few times at dances, and he impressed me with his unusal appearance, but he never stood out to me otherwise. He always seemed like the shy, retiring type. But you surely must know him better than me.”

The worst thing was there was no reproach in Alexandir’s voice; he wasn’t blaming her. It didn’t make Philomel feel any better. “I don’t, really. He was like that in the Consort’s Court, too. He kept to himself. He didn’t seem interested in forming alliances with powerful families. I don’t think I’ve ever exchanged more than five words with him.”

In retrospect, it was amazing how well Aramy Basquiale had managed to hide himself, slipping away so inconspicuously into the background that sometimes Philomel even forgot he existed. Even if he was from a house far beneath her notice, he ought to stand out by virtue of his unusual appearance and even more unusual aura. Instead, Philomel’s main impression of the man was that he tended to spend his time in the library and was a decent nature painter. He’d won one or two poetry competitions, once turned down a bonding offer from Saunt House, and that was about the limit of Philomel’s knowledge of him.

Now it was obvious what he’d been doing. Cloaking himself in innocuousness so as to not appear a threat, only to swoop in at the final moment and claim his prize in a way that ensured the prince would never be able to refuse.

He had outplayed her, he had done it perfectly, and she didn’t know if she could ever recover. She was a Pavos. Destined for greatness. The perfect ministra.

Silly of her. She’d allowed herself to forget. The perfect ministra wasn’t the most beautiful, the most graceful, the most noble, the most magically skilled. The perfect ministra was the one who supported their energos the best. Philomel could never do it; she would always outshine the weak prince.

But a ministra whose aura by its very nature augmented other auras might well make the perfect ministra.

Philomel’s hands started to shake. She mentally cursed her lack of composure and folded them in her lap, hidden away beneath the table so Alexandir wouldn’t see. Even so, the concern on his face was obvious.

She didn’t want him to look at her like that - him, least of all. She’d always wanted him to think of her as capable, one worthy of carrying the future of Pavos House in her hands.

“You know I’m here for you, Mel,” Alexandir said gently. “I will speak to the prince, the Queen, Lord Hazan, the Consort, the vizier - whoever I need to. I’ll learn more about Lord Basquiale, I’ll find a way to defeat him. As long as we don’t give up, the future is bright. I’m your big brother. I promise, I will give you the crown that you deserve.”

“Thank you, big brother.” Philomel lowered her head in a brief, respectful bow. Funny how his words left her completely cold. If anything, the doubt only gnawed a bigger hole into her heart.

She already understood that she had lost. Alexandir didn’t know the prince like she did - he didn’t see the gaping patheticness inside him, that desperate, floundering desire to prove himself, to be strong. It had always disgusted Philomel, in a faint way, listening to him ramble about his prowess with swords or how he was practicing his rain-summoning spells. The prince should not be like this, she always thought even as she nodded and smiled and flattered him. He should be so assured of his skill that he has no need to speak of it.

Carnelio Azed was nothing like the fairytale prince she had imagined back in her innocent days at the Pavos estate. Maybe he looked the part. Tall, handsome, with intense dark blue eyes that made Philomel feel as though she were falling into the ocean - but when he spoke it was only weak and pathetic words that oozed out. When he smiled it was odious and false. When he kissed her hand it was clumsy, devoid of passion.

When he talked it was only about himself. When he gave gifts he was blustering, overly proud of his magnaminity. The prince of Philomel’s imagination was calm, brave, dashing, gracious. He made her feel safe and protected, loved and cherished, the perfect epitome of energos dominance.

Philomel knew such a prince had probably never existed in real life, but Carnelio Azed was perhaps as far from it as a person could get. She told herself she was fine with it. This was not for her, it was for Pavos House. Even if she loathed him, she would still become Royal Consort. This thought got her through countless awkward dates with him.

Yet even as she dreamed of her bonding day, she never let herself imagine what would come after. Their bonded life. It was too sickening a prospect to face. Most likely it would be just like their courtship, as empty and insincere. She would have to watch every word, take care not to tread upon his fragile ego, while he gave absolutely nothing to her. And she was fine with that, really, except in her heart, she…foolish. Childish. Alexandir would make fun of her for it.

But she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life manipulating her energos. She wanted what her more romantic fellows sighed and pined for. To let herself follow the energos’ lead, to give in to his command, to fall into his arms and never have to think about anything ever again besides being by his side. To experience true submission. How wonderful it would feel. How freeing.

And now her life with the prince might never come to be, and…Philomel did not want to admit it. Especially not with her brother in the room, so determined to continue fighting for her. But a shameful selfish part of her, buried deep inside, was glad that she would not have to bond with the Crown Prince.

Weak. Wrong. She was a proud Pavos and a Pavos could not simply concede like that.

Alexandir reached across the table, and Philomel reached for his hand, and when his warm strong fingers squeezed hers, she squeezed back just as hard. “I promise,” he whispered. “Mel, I won’t stop fighting for you.”

“I know you won’t, big brother,” Philomel said, and she knew he meant it, and she was grateful, but it didn’t stop the faint pulse of sadness somewhere deep in her heart.

Was Alexandir fighting for her, or for Pavos House? They were one and the same, she reminded herself. And it wasn’t like he really knew what she thought of the prince. She had never revealed it - it would be ungrateful. Undutiful. Not after everything her family had done to get her into this position, and not after everything she had done for their sake.

She’d never be free from this, not as long as she was a Pavos. Perhaps for a Pavos ministra, there could never be true submission.

It didn’t matter. She didn’t need an energos to submit to. Not as long as she had a brother who would protect her and care for her. The bonds of blood were thicker than anything else, even the bond of magic.

“For Pavos House,” she said, “we won’t ever give up.”

“Of course not.” Alexandir winked. “That’s what Pavoses do. No little Basquiale will stand in our way.”

They smiled at each other above their clasped hands, and though Philomel’s doubts and fears didn’t disappear, they felt further away than ever.

#magus verse #alexandir pavos #side story

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pubalidickens · 5 years ago

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Ears Everywhere

The train pulled into King's Cross station and right on cue, there were small, almost imperceptible adjustments from the crowd. Some moved a few inches forward, others craned their necks, a few others elbowed their neighbours in anticipation of the scuffle to get on. The old lady adjusted her glasses – the frame was a bright scarlet to match her lips, and from either stem hung a string of pearls. So even if she dropped them, they wouldn't fall far from her ample bosom. She was a seasoned traveller, she knew what London trains were like. She was prepared for no one showing any consideration for her advanced years. But while she didn't expect anyone to offer her a seat, she wasn't afraid to demand one once she got on. She knew how to fight for her rights.

Mercifully the train wasn't too crowded, and she made it into one of the priority seats. A young woman was about to sit down, but a timely glare from the old lady stopped her in her tracks, and she offered her the seat, almost deferentially. The old lady was glad. Her shoes were pinching and she just couldn't bear the thought of standing all the way to the end of the line. She sat down and smoothed the creases on her linen dress. White with lovely yellow daisies. Reminded her of a few summers back when they went for that little summer holiday to Majorca, and walked down the promenade, eating ice lollies and basking in the lovely sun. Back then, Tom could still walk, though he was already getting slow. She could feel his grip on her arm tighten when they approached steps, or even when there was a slight slope on the path. And to think, he couldn't even get up to go to the toilet now. Her eyes filled with tears and she hastily blew her nose on her cotton hanky. That way, even if a few tears spilled out, she could disguise it as a cold. It wouldn't do to lose her composure in front of strangers. Oh no, it wouldn't do at all – that's not the way she'd been brought up.

She took a quick look around the carriage. A small teenage boy (or girl - one never knew these days) sat staring at his phone. Next to them, a very big woman sat doing exactly the same. Then, there were two swarthy looking men in very dirty workwear and big heavy boots, who were also doing exactly the same. What a shame. How much of actual life they missed, because they kept looking at those screens. She didn't own a phone. If anyone wanted to talk to her, they'd have to wait till she got home and heard her answerphone messages. Or – better still – they could come round for a cup of tea and a nice little chat. Maybe even some garibaldis. She always had some, in a round tin, with the queen’s photo on the top, that she brought out for special occasions.

Her eyes wandered to her side of the carriage. There was a middle-aged woman, looking pale and tired and nodding off in the corner, tightly clutching her laptop in case it fell off her lap. The old lady sympathised with her. Can't be easy having to go to work every day. Then a woman and her husband – they clearly had been to the shops, and their bags spilled over into the passageway, almost at the feet of the workers in the opposite seats. The old lady pursed her lips and told them off mentally. They needed to be more restrained. Why, if they had been a war baby like herself, they'd me more into 'Make do and Mend' instead of buying new things all the time. She even had a copy of that little book from the war, passed down by her Mam. She had always darned every sock within an inch of its life and there was a time when she turned old jumpers into tea-cosies. Though now she did buy some things from the local charity shop. She didn't have the time to make things anymore – caring for Tom was a full-time job.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the 'ping' of the doors as the train pulled into the next station. Almost half the carriage got off. The old lady heaved a sigh of relief. She didn't like crowds. They made her feel dizzy. Now that there were a few empty seats, the couple with loads of shopping put some of their bags up on the seats next to them. The old lady pursed her lips again. She was about to think some more uncharitable thoughts about them when she was interrupted again – this time by a very very different sort of couple. The woman was beautiful – like Lana Turner thought the old lady – and just as well dressed. A rich cashmere coat skirted her ankles and her feet were encased in beautiful emerald green high heels. The old lady saw the swish of green pleated silk underneath the cashmere as she sat down. A divine fragrance wafted from her – was it jasmine, patchouli, lavender? She didn't know, but it was the heady scent of beauty, charm and elegance – all those things the old lady admired, but no longer had.

It's not often that the man in a couple is as beautiful as the woman, but in this case it really was. The old lady tried not to stare, but regrettably, she did. Luckily, he was busy settling himself down into the seat and didn't notice. His features were sharp, chiselled and angular. You could cut paper with those cheekbones. The old lady felt a bit flustered and chided with herself. Most unbecoming, what was the matter with her? But she did have to open the top button of her cardigan to cool down a bit.

The man might have been beautiful, but he was also angry. As soon as he sat down, he turned to face the woman. "I did say it was OK we experimented in the bedroom and tried other people..."

The old lady couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not only did they look like movie stars, it seemed they lived movie star lives too! The man continued: "But not with my best friend, for god's sake..."

This was now too much for the old lady and she dropped her newspaper on the floor and turned around to face them both. Unfortunately for her, the man was still facing the woman and so she was caught red-handed watching...and listening. There was an awkward moment, while the old lady went very pink and worked out a way to get herself out of the situation. Luckily for her, there was a poster advertising a beach holiday on the other side of the carriage and she glanced over at it intently as if memorising the website. She even got out her pen and wrote it down.

The beautiful man narrowed his eyes, and looked away, refusing to be taken in by this somewhat clumsy ruse, and turned his gaze back to the woman. But this time, he spoke in French.

Opposite, one of the swarthy men looked up from his phone and clocked what the old lady was doing and winked at her. She pursed her lips and looked away, refusing to collude with him.

With slightly shaking hands, she picked up her paper again. She noticed that the couple had switched to French, and knowing full well that they did this because she was listening, she continued to feel acutely embarrassed. She almost got up and moved seats, but she she couldn't bear to walk away – her curiosity got the better of her. And so, a bit like the alcoholic who can’t let go of the bottle of beer in his hand, even after being caught red-handed by members of his AA group, she continued to sit there, listening. Luckily the couple got off before her station, otherwise she might have even been tempted to follow them.

As the train rolled towards her station, long after the couple and even the swarthy men opposite had gotten off, the old lady sat there, still with the Evening Standard in her lap. The sharp sting of embarrassment had calmed down to a dull unease. And now that all the players in the little drama – the beautiful man and woman and the two swarthy men opposite had left the carriage – even that disappeared. All that remained was the glow of of a new story that she was itching to tell someone. After all, this was so much better than the latest royal scandal, news of the latest epidemic, or any gossip from the local pub.

Finally, her station arrived and she stood up, picking up her handbag and letting the Evening Standard slide back onto the floor. If anyone asked her what was in that paper she wouldn't have known. On the other hand, if anyone asked her what the couple were talking about, she would have been able to tell them everything. Down to every little detail.

She walked out of the carriage, with a spring in her step. Upstairs, as she punched her card at the barrier, her phone started to ring.

"Thanks love" she said to the TFL attendant, then answered her phone. It was her daughter, ringing from Lyon.

"Oui Sophie, bonjour ma belle, comment ca vas...?" she said into her phone, switching from cockney to French.

The ticket attendant looked slightly startled - he didn't think that the old lady was French. And he was right, she wasn't, she was British. Almost totally English in fact, unless you counted French-by-marriage as a nationality. Not that Tom spoke the language fluently, he'd been in the UK since he was 6. But he had taught her enough.

Just about enough to understand the splendidly sordid story of the beautiful couple on the train.

#light reading #short story #commute #underground #tales from the tube

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vcg73 · 8 years ago

Text

Witch!Kurt #20: Witchcraft 101

I really should have worked in Kurt’s witchcraft studies a long time ago, but just keep in mind that in spite of the length of this series, it only actually covers a couple of months in character time. (Author’s excuse. Heh.) To make up for it, this chapter is quite lengthy. : -)

~*~*~*~*~

“How did it go?” Kurt blurted the moment he walked in the front door on Friday evening.

“How did what go?” Adam asked, with a display of overt innocence.

“The job interview, as if you didn’t know!” Kurt said, wrestling his way out of his dove gray wool pea coat, black gloves, gray and purple scarf, and a deep purple Homburg hat crafted from warm finely-woven wool that Elliott had given him for Christmas. He took a moment to brush a dusting of white off the hat brim before placing it lovingly on the little stand he had installed next to the front door. “I’ve had my fingers and toes crossed for you all day.”

“That must have made dance class fun. Is it snowing?”

“Just started again.” Kurt came in and plunked down on the sofa, sitting sideways so that he could face his still annoyingly unperturbed fiancé. He paused for a moment, distracted by Adam’s ensemble of a crisp white shirt, a dark red tie with subtle stripes, Kurt’s old Cheerios warm-up pants, and black slipper-socks. “Nice outfit.”

Adam glanced down at himself and laughed. “Oh, right. The interview was a video chat so I only spiffed up the upper half. I was wearing a Henley and your Hello Kitty apron to cook dinner, but that didn’t seem quite appropriate to the occasion.”

“Probably not the impression you wanted to make on a bigwig like Stewart Henderson,” Kurt agreed, tugging Adam’s tie forward to kiss him on the lips. “How did it go, though? Did he love you? Does he want you to start right away? Is the remote connection thing going to be an issue?”

Adam’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, but all I can say so far is that I’m in the running and that Stewart seemed to like me. I finished my interview just a bit ago, and though I had the feeling he was somewhat skeptical of Gran’s glowing sales pitch, after speaking with me he said that I showed good instincts, had an excellent educational background, and that he thought I might do, but he’d have to look into a few things. I assume regarding my issue with leaving the house, though he didn’t specifically say so. I didn’t go into the real reasons, either, but I also didn’t try to hide my condition from him and he seemed to appreciate that. At the end of the interview, he said he would have someone contact me once he’d made his final decision. He still has a couple more candidates to speak with.”

Kurt deflated. “Damn. I hope that wasn’t polite code for ‘better luck next time’. I really thought he would recognize quality and snap you right up. But hey, you put yourself out there and no matter how this goes, that’s still progress. Plus you’re on a first name basis with Stewart Henderson. That’s pretty impressive!”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be inviting him to pop round for tea any time soon, but he was very kind and surprisingly easy to chat with. Quite a funny man,” Adam said, seeming far less disappointed by the idea that he might have received a brush-off than Kurt was. “He insisted that I use his given name the moment we began. Said if he was going to consider taking on an assistant who is only 24 years old, he was damned well going to pretend we were contemporaries and not be reminded every two minutes that he’s old enough to be my grandfather. And as I said before, if this doesn’t pan out, I still have a few more avenues to explore. This, for example.”

He offered Kurt a sip of tea from the steaming cup he’d had before him on the coffee table. Kurt’s nose twitched at the scent, recognizing the particular blend of jasmine tea from a local shop they both liked. “Bui’s Tea? What does that have to do with anything?”

“The interview got bumped forward an hour so as I had some extra time, I walked over for a cup and a biscuit before starting on dinner,” he replied casually, as if the shop was not five blocks away and farther than he had ever managed to venture on his own before. Seeing Kurt’s probing look, he dropped the nonchalance and admitted, “It was terrifying. You probably felt a sense of panic right around 3pm. I was honestly attempting to go to the grocery and buy a bottle of wine to serve with the lasagna, but it started to snow rather hard before I got halfway. Suddenly finding myself surrounded by a field of swirling white nothingness . . . well, let’s just say that I had to duck into the first available shop before I ended up having a melt-down in the middle of 12th Street.”

“I did feel something, but I thought you were getting worked up about the interview. I was in the middle of dance class so I couldn’t call to check on you. I almost did, but then the feeling stopped. Should I have called anyway?” Kurt asked, guilt washing over him as he said, “Oh gosh, I should have. I knew it! I tried to absorb some of the fear and project a sense of confidence back down the length of our connection, but Miss July called on me right then to demonstrate a series of wing changes.”

Adam reached over and squeezed his hand, telling him without words that he was not upset that Kurt had not dropped everything to run to his side. “How did that go? If you were projecting to me at the same time, I’m guessing not very smoothly.”

He sighed and brushed his free hand through his hair. “Yeah, it could have been better. I know I was doing the moves correctly, but between your anxiety and my distraction, Miss July told me that I looked like an over-caffeinated cricket. The class found that hilarious until she made us do speed rounds against each other.”

Adam laughed. “Nice. You’re a regular speed demon on the changes. I’ll bet they were eating their laughter as sauce for the humble pie before you were done with them. Your projection does explain why I suddenly felt so much better, however. I just assumed it was because I’d found a haven.”

Kurt shrugged sheepishly. “It was probably Bui’s that calmed you down. That place always smells delicious, and it’s dimly lit and sort of cozy in there. I can see why it would be a perfect place to get your bearings.”

“Well, in any case, thank you for your help. My detour might have been a blessing in disguise, however. Mrs. Bui saw that I had a case of the collywobbles and you know how she is. Bustled me right over to sit and was pressing a hot cup into my hand, and a cool towel to my neck before I could suss out what was even happening.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” Kurt agreed. The biggest reason he loved that tea shop was for its plump, ever smiling owner, who always gave him a cookie and a pinch on the cheek when he stopped in, as if Kurt was only five years old. The fact that he had to bend forward so that she could reach his face just made the gesture even more charming. To call Mrs. B five feet tall would be a generous fib.

Adam nodded, taking another satisfied sip before setting the cup back down. “She is. We got to talking, and I found myself telling her all about us, and about my recent struggles, and how I was looking for employment but somewhat limited in what I could apply for. Next thing I knew I was being offered the chance to replace Steve.”

“Her son?” Kurt said in surprise. Steven Bui was his widowed mother’s eldest and had been helping her create the special blend teas and coffees that made the shop stand out in a vast sea of similar businesses. “What happened to him?”

“University,” Adam said. “It seems that Steve is a bit like yourself. Too stubborn to take no for an answer when his first application was denied. He brushed up his CV and tried again for the winter term at UCLA and he’s made it. Flew out to begin classes last week.”

Kurt smiled and shook his head, somehow not at all surprised. “Good for him. Do you know anything about making tea, though? I mean, you definitely drink enough of it to be a good taste-tester, but isn’t the blending process more complicated? Or do you just infuse a little potion-making and voila, instant deliciousness?”

Adam laughed. “Mrs. B is a Standard, so that would be a bit of a cheat. I would go in as more of an apprentice, at least at first. I do know a little about the process, but I would be mostly ringing up customers and stocking inventory. Assuming I accept the job, of course. I still may get the position with Henderson Productions, which would certainly be more of a financial boon than working in a tea shop. There is also the problem that while I made it that far today, it doesn’t guarantee that I’ll be able to do it every day. I’m finding, unfortunately, that making progress against mental barriers isn’t quite as cut and dried as knocking through physical ones. The little bastards seem to rebuild themselves while I sleep. I went for a walk today in part because I found I couldn’t make myself go out onto that bloody balcony again. Previous success be damned.”

“Progress is still progress,” Kurt told him. “You did it once, so now you know it’s achievable. And you will get there, Adam. It’s enough that you keep on trying, and learning to figure out what things will trigger the fear. Those roadblocks won’t stand a chance in the long run. As for Mrs. Bui, you said she offered you a job after you’d told her about your problem, so I don’t think she’s going to take it back if you find that you can’t bring yourself to come in every day.”

Adam nodded. “At any rate, I told her I would have to wait and see how today’s interview works out before I could give a firm answer, since I have no idea what sort of schedule I’ll be keeping if it does. And there’s the matter of needing to devote adequate time to helping you train with the coven, and face down your ex. Then of course, there’s the very important matter of a wedding and honeymoon to consider!”

Kurt beamed at the reminder. They had Skyped with Burt and Carole last night, and with Henry and June early this morning. Both families had been surprised but gratifyingly enthusiastic about the engagement. Henry had expressed some doubt that they could put a wedding together so quickly, but naturally Burt and Carole held no such reservations. “That reminds me. I told Isabelle our news when I dropped off that paperwork yesterday. I know we were going to wait until we’d told the families, but I was basically bursting to talk to someone who would be as excited as I was.”

“I understand,” Adam said with a grin. “I may have spilled the news to Tanya yesterday when the Apples were over. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d be disappointed in my big mouth, but as yours was equally indiscreet, I no longer feel guilty.”

He laughed. “Good, then neither do I. The important part here is that Isabelle called me back about an hour ago . . .”

Recognizing a cue in the pregnant pause, Adam turned and offered his undivided attention. “Aaand?”

Kurt bounced in place, clasping his hands underneath his chin in an adorable effort to contain his excitement. His shining eyes gave it away regardless. “And she’s offered us the use of The Ballroom for our reception! Can you believe that? The Ballroom!”

Adam’s mouth fell open in honest amazement. He had only been to the company owned reception hall once before. The first time he and Kurt had dated, his boyfriend had been helping put together some sort of grand couture event that his boss was managing. The place was very popular for upper crust society bashes; presumably because it was beyond posh, with a price tag to match. “On Valentine’s Day? How on earth . . . ?”

“I know!” he gushed, practically dancing in his chair. “It seems that being a managing editor at Vogue has its perks. There was some sort of event rescheduling today that left a 3 hour window open on the 14th. Isabelle heard the receptionist confirming the change and she snapped the slot up. She called once the change was confirmed and offered it to us as her wedding gift! I’ve been on pins and needles ever since I got off the phone, trying not to leak my feelings to you and give the secret away. I didn’t want to distract you from your interview.”

“Hang the interview, this is amazing!” Adam said. “Imagine telling people we had our wedding reception where celebrities and ambassadors have danced and dined! And with that much space, we can invite as many friends as we like with no worries.”

Kurt’s enthusiasm dimmed, taking on an edge of concern as he said, “Maybe one worry. Are you sure you’ll be okay with a big space filled with dozens of people? It won’t be like the Christmas party where we could slip away whenever we liked. As the grooms, everyone’s attention is bound to be focused on us. Maybe I should call Isabelle.”

Touched by his concern, and willingness to give up something he had doubtless dreamed about for years if it meant sparing Adam pain, he said, “No need for that. I’ll be so delirious with joy at having made you my husband that I doubt it would bother me if the entire cast of the Macy’s Parade were to show up demanding a slice of wedding cake.” They both laughed, imagining what that might look like. “And if I should have any difficulties, I’m certain that my dad will be happy to transport me, or both of us, out for a quick breather whenever it’s required.”

“Good idea.” He kissed Adam’s lips, intending it as a quick reward for his forward thinking, but Adam responded with avid enjoyment and they were soon wrapped in each others arms for several wonderful minutes of making out. Kurt’s elegant designer top and Adam’s shirt and tie quickly became lost over the back of the couch.

Pausing to catch his breath and straighten what remained of his outfit after Adam had treated him to a very enthusiastic welcome home, Kurt said, “God, you should have a job interview every day if it makes you react like that!” Adam just laughed, making a show of slowly licking his lips. “Oh, Adam. The stars really seem to be aligning for us, don’t they? It’s almost scary. After so many years of everything going wrong, I’m a little freaked out to have everything suddenly going so right.”

“Don’t be,” Adam suggested, getting up and dropping a kiss on Kurt’s forehead as he went to fetch each of them a warm jumper to wear, picking up their discarded garments from the floor as he went. It wouldn’t do to let their friends see the evidence. Not if they wanted to get through the evening without being teased to death. Tossing Kurt a fleecy blue garment, he tugged on a camel colored version of his own and continued, “Trouble comes when it will, barring the interference of those who force it upon us, but good times are precious and need to be celebrated. So for now, let’s just enjoy being in a happy spot and cherish our good fortune.”

Kurt nodded, forcing himself to shake off the habit of anticipating the worst. Pulling on his sweater, he said, “You’re right. After all, even the grayest clouds can turn out to have a silver lining. A bully can become a brother. An enemy can become a friend. And one of the worst years of your life can turn you down a path to meeting the love of your life.”

“Exactly. And a crowd of faithless friends can lead one to a band of true and lasting comrades. Speaking of which.”

“The coven is due around six,” Kurt agreed, catching his hint immediately. “And the snow isn’t going to slow them down, so we need to get going on dinner.”

“As I’m sure your nose has already informed you, I’ve prepared two pans of lasagna; one with meat and one without. The bread is ready as well, but for garlic spread and a touch of baking.”

“I’m a little disappointed. You haven’t left me anything to do.”

Adam smiled. “You can toss the salad. And as you’ve recently expressed an interest in building up your witchcraft skills, I thought you might enjoy a quick lesson in potion-stirring the garlic butter.”

Kurt perked up at once. He had just spent a busy day at work and school, but this sounded like fun. Hopping up from the couch, he joined Adam in the kitchen and grabbed an apron. Not that he needed one just to make garlic bread, but it was habit to protect his clothing from any risk of kitchen spills. “I like it when you play teacher. What do we do?”

“First of all, would you like to stir any particular variety of charm into it, or just have it be especially delicious? I might suggest a simple tonic. It’s easy to create and garlic makes an excellent cold remedy even without magic. Add a bit of enhancement and one only needs a small dose of it become immune to cold and flu season.”

“What happens if we just add enough charm to make it taste really good?”

Adam laughed. “Then you have people eating you out of house and home.”

“So, an average night with the gang then,” Kurt quipped with a smile. He picked up one of the garlic bulbs from a hanging basket of vegetables near the stove, looking at it uncertainly. “Are you sure about this? Your cooking is always wonderful, but what if I try to create a good health charm and it makes the bread come out tasting like cough syrup?”

Adam admitted, “That’s a valid concern. The first time I tried enchanting molasses, I infused too much raw magic into the blend and everything I made with it tasted like tar. Needless to say, I was forced to toss that batch. However, I promise I won’t let any of our friends suffer if your initial potion doesn’t come out.”

Kurt nodded, willing to accept that. “I’ll trust you. I already put my dad through the burned rubber phase when I was learning how to make quiche and I’d rather not repeat the experience with our friends.”

“Self-taught, were we?” Adam inquired, a tender smile playing about his lips as he imagined a pint-sized Kurt with the same deadly serious face that his fiancé took on whenever he was concentrating on doing something difficult.

“Yeah. I used my mom’s old cookbooks, plus I was kind of obsessed with the Cooking Channel when I was in middle-school.”

Adam cocked his head. “I still enjoy those programs. I’ve had a great opportunity to catch up with all the latest editions during my recovery. So let’s begin by softening and whipping a brick of butter to make it good and spreadable, then mince the garlic. We’ll add a bit of Italian seasoning and pepper when we mix it together. Just a hint of both to seal the flavor and enhance the charm.”

“I think a cold remedy will be a good choice. It sounded like Johnny and Dani were a little under the weather when I called them. This might be a nice way to apologize for pushing everyone away recently.”

Resisting the urge to remind Kurt that the coven was equally at fault, Adam just said, “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. Remember the method we used at the holiday party to improve your boss’s crab cakes?” Kurt nodded. “We’re going to use a similar trick here, but first let’s get the salad out of the way. When that’s done, I need you to chop up a clove of garlic, very fine.”

Kurt just nodded and went to work, chopping and mixing a variety of cold veggies with the efficiency of lifetime practice. Once it was done and waiting in his favorite salad bowl, he pulled out a cutting board and a sharp knife, quickly mincing a clove of garlic into tiny shards. “Is that small enough?”

“Perfect. Now I want you to do the same thing with this dish of butter that you did when warming the crab cakes. Not too much. Just a hint of heat to make it spreadable.”

Fine control of this power was one of the things that Kurt constantly struggled with, and his shoulders slumped when he tentatively willed a surge of heat into his palms, only to watch the rectangle of butter immediately dissolve into a pool of bubbling liquid.

Adam was unperturbed by the mistake. “Not to worry, we’ve plenty more,” he said, taking away the first dish and placing a cold brick of butter into a new bowl. Setting it aside, he placed his right hand under Kurt’s left. “Take a deep breath. Find your center and concentrate on the shape and feel of the magic without activating it.”

Seeing that Kurt was hesitant, Adam placed the pads of his left and middle index fingers against Kurt’s temple, guiding him to the place he needed him to go. It felt almost like a click when Kurt found what he was looking for.

“Oh, this is kind of like when Brittany first taught me how to See potential!” Kurt said, closing his eyes and turning his Sight inward. “The first day I became linked with the coven.”

“Exactly like that,” Adam told him, and though his voice remained calm and encouraging, Kurt felt a pulse of dismay echo down their link. He actively sent back a feeling of questioning. “You picked up the grounding of your power very quickly, but it’s clear to me now that no one told you that when you actively engage in spell casting, you need to find your center and work out from it. Otherwise the magic can become unstable and difficult to control. It also drains you more quickly. I feel like a fool for not recognizing the problem sooner.”

“It’s okay, Adam. You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Kurt said quietly. “We all did. I think maybe everyone thought that I knew more than I did because they’ve been witches for so much longer, and most of us grew up together so they kind of assumed I had the same experiences they’d had. Then of course there’s what happened when I went into the Void.”

He cocked his head. “Meaning?”

“I used magic all the right ways that day, but it was mostly instinct and emotion. I followed Dani’s directions to reach you, but I’m just starting to realize how much I was using the link I had forged with the coven to guide me once I was in the Void. I’ve been thinking about this a lot since we talked. Once you started to get better, I tried to get back to magic lessons, but I couldn’t seem to do anything right. None of it made sense, and whenever I asked a question the answer didn’t make much sense either, and everyone . . . okay not everyone; mostly just Santana . . . acted like it was so self-explanatory that I felt really stupid. You said the other night that all my practice is paying off, but I’m not sure that’s true. I have gotten better at directing the power where I want it, but the levels are still hard to control, and I still can’t seem to help activating my thermal magic when I get upset. At least not consciously. I’m just lucky that I haven’t set it off in class, or at work! And when I work with the coven, I can tell that they’re getting exasperated with my lack of progress. Or maybe it just feels that way because I get so frustrated with myself. Lately, I’ve been thinking that I was having so much trouble because I wasn’t . . .”

“What?” Adam said gently, reading embarrassment in Kurt’s sudden hesitation.

He nearly mumbled the words, “That I wasn’t good enough. That I’m not really as Talented as everyone keeps telling me, and they just don’t know how to break it to me after all that build up about what a great witch I was supposed to be.”

“And that was another part of the reason you’d started avoiding the coven,” Adam concluded.

Kurt nodded tiredly. “Part of me is still afraid that they only stick around because we need to stop Blaine, and that once that’s over, I. . .” He paused, licking his lips to give himself a moment. This was difficult to admit. “I’ve never had a group of friends quite like this one, but the Glee Club came really close. New Directions was like a family, at least at first. I thought we had something special and lasting, but then they all dropped me as casually as a worn out pair of shoes. And it wasn’t only due to Blaine. Whenever I didn’t act the way they wanted me to act, or when someone more interesting came along, I was suddenly at the bottom of everyone’s best friend list. It happened over and over, and the more I tried to hang on to my friends, the more they took advantage of my willingness to do anything to keep them. In the end, it still didn’t matter. People leave me, Adam. They just do. Always have.”

“And always will?” he finished, an expression of ineffable sadness filling his lean features. “Is that what you’ve been struggling with? You believe that because your high school friends were so unfortunately fickle, that the coven will be too?”

He nodded meekly, hating to admit it but forcing himself to be honest. He cared too much about Adam, and knew that Adam cared too much about him, to hide his true fears anymore just to keep up a happy appearance.

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry. Again, I see that I’ve been paying too much attention to my own issues at the expense of yours. Between losing your mum, nearly losing your dad twice in body and then again in spirit, the sudden death of your brother, your cheating fiancé, your best friends haring off to chase the lure of stardom . . .” He sighed. “And then there was me. Vanishing into thin air, then coming back only to be reluctant to start up an intimate relationship again. Yes, I can see exactly how you might feel that way.”

Kurt gulped, ducking his head. “It makes having faith in people hard for me sometimes.”

Adam took Kurt’s hands, dipping his chin to catch his beloved’s downcast eyes and encourage him to look up again. “I know it is. But I need you to make a leap of faith that things are different this time. I know it’s hard, because experience has taught you that you can’t depend on anyone to stand by you, but I believe I can speak on behalf of the coven when I say that we will not let you down in that way again. Including the members who were part of your high school group. I can’t promise no one will ever die. Time marches on, and that’s simply beyond mortal power to control, but as long as we do live I can promise that we’ll always be a part of your life and heart. I promise you, Kurt, that none of us are fair-weather friends. I, for one, never have and never will never leave you by choice.”

Kurt nodded and wrapped him in a fierce hug. “I know. I do know that,” he mumbled into Adam’s shoulder. “In my heart I do, but sometimes my head gets in the way. A nasty little voice starts whispering in my ear, and sometimes I can’t help listening to it. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. That’s one of the things I’ve been using my sessions with Janice to talk about.”

“I’m glad of that,” Adam said, holding him in comforting arms, in no hurry to break the embrace. “She’s done me a lot of good, and I know she’ll do the same for you if you give her time and trust.”

“I’ll try.” He pulled back to look into Adam’s face. Seeing the love and understanding shining in his eyes allowed him to find his smile again. “Leaps of faith aren’t exactly my specialty. They have a way of biting me in the ass, but I’ll take one for you, and for this coven because both of you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if things do get rough, well, I’ve never been afraid to work for the things I wanted.”

Adam kissed him. “True, and that’s one of the things I love most about you. As for the coven, we’ll have a talk tonight and get everyone on the same page. I’ve a notion your magical studies will get a great deal easier after that. At least in the sense of not merely being an exercise in frustration.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kurt agreed. And it really was. Just hearing someone acknowledge his problem and take it seriously, proposing a workable solution rather than treating it like an imaginary issue that he should just get over so that they could take center stage again, made him feel a thousand times better already.

“Good. As for anyone thinking you hadn’t the strength or talent for being a coven leader, you could not be more wrong. If anything, I believe the others have been assuming too much the other direction. Thinking they didn’t need to spend time on the dull but necessary basics because you showed such incredible instinct. I think they’ve been hesitant to push you in case you proved a bit too powerful. Hearing that you intend to take combat magic from trained professionals may just prove something of a relief.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Kurt’s mouth. “Someone told you about the exploding canary, didn’t they?”

“They might have done,” Adam admitted with a chuckle. “Is it true that LT and Elliott both hid underneath the couch?”

“Yes, and everyone else ducked behind it,” Kurt remembered, the remains of his bad mood dissipating at the memory of his friends diving for cover. “It was pretty funny.”

“I wish I’d seen it.” Adam considered for a moment. “As for your magic, I think we should ask Elliott if he’d mind staying with us for a time. He really ought to be taking point on your training and that will allow the two of you to spend more time together.”

“Why Elliott?”

“Because he’s your Familiar,” Adam said, as if it were self-explanatory. Seeing Kurt’s blank look, he ventured, “Didn’t anyone explain what that means?”

Fighting the desire to roll his eyes, Kurt said, “Apparently not.”

Adam considered that, and then shrugged. “No matter. This is as good a place as any to restart your elementary witchcraft lessons. A Familiar is a very rare creature, and the bond between Familiar and Witch is a deep and special one. Coven leaders, witches who need special training, witches who have no human to appropriately guide them in the use of their power; these are the ones who typically attract a Familiar. It was almost inevitable that you would partner with one.”

“Wait, are you telling me that Elliott auditioned for my band because he was planning to become my Familiar one day?” Kurt said, astonished. He took a seat on one of the tall kitchen bar stools and pulled a pad of paper and a pen from one of the drawers built into the cabinet. He jotted down ‘Lesson 1 – Familiars’ and then made a quick note of what Adam was telling him. If he was going to become a dedicated student of magic, he was going to do it right, and Kurt Hummel had always been a dedicated note-taker in class. “I remember him telling me that he came to New York to be part of my band, but I thought he just meant that he wanted to be part of one that was just starting out. That’s more or less what he told me.”

Adam smiled. “I’m sure that the band was an attractive component in itself, given his musical proclivities, but it’s not as if he was going to introduce himself with, ‘Hi, I’m Elliott. I spend half my life as a cat and I’d like to be yours!’ You’d have assumed he was either barmy or that he fancied you.”

“Those two things are not always mutually exclusive,” Kurt agreed with a wry smile.

“True, especially as I recall my own embarrassingly enthusiastic sales pitch on the day we first met,” Adam laughed. “Your talent as a singer is more than enough to attract admirers, but the band audition probably presented Elliott with an ideal opportunity to get a close-up impression of you without attracting attention.”

With a snort of amusement, Kurt said, “Right. Steam-punk glasses, a top hat, leather outfit that he made a point of telling me he designed himself, sky-high platform boots, about three pounds of glitter, and swinging from a chandelier. That was the kind of ‘not attracting attention’ that Starchild felt would make a decent first impression. And I suppose it worked since that outfit is still burned into my retinas, but I was so freaked out and convinced that he wanted to take over what I was trying to build that I basically told him to get lost. Luckily he didn’t listen to me.”

“He never told me that,” Adam chuckled. “Still, once you did meet face to face, he would have known for certain whether he was meant to be a part of your life. A pure-bred cat Familiar like Tubbington chooses their own charge. A human Animagus like Elliott has the instinctive need to bond, and becomes attracted by the magical signature of their particular witch. A feline homing instinct, if you will.”

“So in a way, Elliott and I were sort of born to be good friends,” Kurt said, finding that idea both pleasing and a little scary. He quickly jotted down this new information. “I’m guessing that a witch who attracts a Familiar is typically trained in magic by them. Do they get something in return from us? I hope the answer is yes, because otherwise this feels pretty selfish.”

Adam smiled, a bit wistfully. “Indeed they do. It benefits your Familiar greatly to spend time with you. You provide them with affection, emotional stability, and a sense of connection. Being a part of a coven is important, but the connection the two of you share together is deeper and more personal. Or at least it’s meant to be. It should ideally be something like the emotional bond you share with me. I don’t fully understand the particulars myself. You’d have to ask one of the cats, but it seems to satisfy some inner craving in a Familiar to have frequent physical contact and plenty of opportunities to help his charge.”

Kurt’s voice was quiet as he said, “So . . . when he offered to Transport me to and from work, Elliott was really asking to spend more time with me. And I refused because I thought I was putting him out, when in reality I was denying him the closeness he needed. Oh, Adam, why didn’t he tell me? He must have seen that I didn’t understand.”

“It may have been a mutual misunderstanding. You thought you were putting him out, and he may have feared that he was crowding you. Don’t forget, Elliott is still new to this relationship as well. I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure he hasn’t held it against you,” Adam said kindly. “Familiars aren’t quite like ordinary witches. They live a long time, barring accident or injury. That old saw about cats having nine lives was undoubtedly based upon them. Tubbington is considerably older than any of us, I suspect. I do know that he was bonded to Brittany’s grandmother before her, and that he’s now chosen to expand his protection to Santana.”

“And to the rest of us.”

“Correct.” Adam agreed, eyes twinkling. “I believe he sees the lot of us as unruly kittens in need of a firm paw. Plus he’s more or less mentoring Elliott, who is quite as young as he seems.”

“Why didn’t I know any of this?” Kurt complained, annoyed. “It seems like these are things somebody should have clued me into if I’m really supposed to be the coven leader.”

“I suppose the right time just never presented itself.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face in an effort not to start yelling, Kurt blew out a tense breath. “That’s definitely something that’s going on the list to talk to the others about. If the right time doesn’t ‘present itself’ then they should frigging well put up with the awkward! For crying out loud, Tubbington stayed with me an entire week when Brittany was out of town, right before we went searching for you. It seems like he could have found a minute in there somewhere between raiding my cupboards and binge watching my Netflix to tell me some of this.”

“Agreed, though perhaps that’s another thing you were meant to be learning from Elliott. You’re a new witch, but I don’t believe any of you lot have ever had much experience with covens before now. I have, because my family is massive and we have connections to at least half a dozen covens. Oh, you smile darling, but my parents’ little brood of four practically made them the childless couple of the clan. One can hardly toss a rock back home without hitting a Crawford or one of our many offshoots.”

“You should know, you’re making me very curious to see your home town,” Kurt said with a grin. “I bet they’ll throw a parade if you dare to show your face back there after being gone so long.”

Adam looked a trifle disturbed by that idea. “Hmm. They might at that. At any rate, what I was trying to say is that you should give yourself, and the others, some slack and try to enjoy this new experience. Meanwhile, I’ll speak to Tubbington about being a little less circumspect with his knowledge. As for Elliott, I want you to spend time with him. It’s important that you two bond as much as possible, though I am here and now drawing a line against his accompanying us on our honeymoon.”

Kurt laughed. “Agreed. You’re sure it won’t bother you, though? That Elliott won’t have the same Witch/Familiar bond with you that he has with me?”

Knowing enough about Kurt’s relationship history to know what he was really saying, Adam said, “No, darling. I’ve known many cats in my life and though we’ve always got along well, to this point none have ever chosen me for a bonding, and I’m all right with that. As I told you, it’s a rare thing. The fact that you have been chosen just makes you even more special in my eyes.”

Kurt heaved a contented and audibly relieved sigh. He had had too much experience with people who only seemed able to be happy for him, or supportive of him, if there was something in it for them. He was getting used to it, but it still caught him off guard sometimes when Adam would freely offer no-strings support. “Thank you. And if you want one, I’ll be happy to find a nice non-magical kitten that can be yours alone. It can be one of my bonding projects with Elliott. He loves kittens.”

Adam laughed. “Thank you. I may take you up on that one day.” Letting him go, he picked up the butter dish again and placed in Kurt’s hands. “So, back to work. Hold this in your hand, center on just the individual thread that is connected to heat. I’ve realized that the last time we did this, I simply guided you to the correct place without showing you how to find it. So this time I want you to see and feel it for yourself. Separate your Talents like picking out one particular voice section in a choir.”

Eyes closed, Kurt did as he was told. His magical energies were usually something he viewed as a whole. He found that thinking of them in terms of a choir helped a great deal. He was able to relate this lesson back to the one Dani had given about separating singing from spell-casting, and he remembered something else he had been told early on; that nearly all witches seemed to be musical in some way. Music was something he had always been able to understand. “That’s it,” said Adam, as he felt Kurt relax. “Now, what do you feel?”

Kurt considered how best to describe it. “The kinetic magic that I use to move things and levitate is the ‘loudest’ part,” he said. “The melody, I suppose you might call it. I can touch that with hardly any effort at all. I’ve noticed before that moving things has gotten a lot easier the more I’ve grown used to having the ability.”

“Undoubtedly your primary power,” Adam observed. “What else?”

“The thermal is probably the next strongest. Now that I’m looking at it next to the kinetic, it kind of reminds me of when Rachel and I used to compete for solos. Both wanting to be noticed, but only one getting all the attention.”

Adam laughed. “So moving things about is your Rachel power, and setting things alight is your Kurt power, eh? That may be a good way for you to think of them. It also may explain why you tend to ignite things when the frustration builds. One can only take so much rubbing the wrong way before they explode.”

Opening his eyes again, Kurt rolled them at his grinning fiancé. “Oh, ha ha. What does that make my transference magic that I use to change clothes?”

“Well, the power is understated, unique, and quite spectacular when you choose to show it off. What was the name of that friend of yours? The one you said always got overlooked until it was time for the big power note?”

Kurt laughed. “The Mercedes power? I like it! And I think she’d like knowing that she’s finally been put in charge of my wardrobe.”

“Add in a few minor dribs and drabs, like potion making and your power of Sight, and you have a very fine choir of internal magics,” Adams told him, liking this analogy more and more as he noticed how comfortable Kurt was with it. “But unlike your daft choir master, this time you get to be in charge of who gets which solo, and when.”

Following Adam’s instruction carefully as he showed him how to draw forth just a hint of well controlled power, Kurt activated his thermal magic, watching with delight as the butter in the dish obligingly softened around the edges, becoming creamy rather than melting into liquid.

Adam made a satisfied sound in his throat, and picked up Kurt’s free hand to hold it over the fragrant garlic bits. “Excellent. Now keep the butter just at that state, then reach into the garlic and feel its essence,” he said quietly. “Imagine the plant as nourishing and full of good health, then draw that quality forward. Sort of coax it into being its best self.”

It was hard to imbue personality into a few bits of garlic, but Kurt tried his best. It was difficult but when he turned on his Sight at Adam’s command, he was surprised to see the garlic take on a soft golden glow. What’s more, it suddenly looked mouth-watering.

“Very good. Now just add the garlic to the butter and we’ll seal our charm with a sprinkle of spice,” Adam said, singing a few soft wordless notes over their concoction as Kurt stirred it together. The butter suddenly ‘flashed’ in Kurt’s Sight, startling him so much he nearly dropped the dish. Having expected the reaction, Adam steadied him before their experiment could end in disaster. “And there we go. All done but for spreading it over our bread and baking it in.”

“That’s it? So it’s . . .?” Kurt said, blinking his vision back to normal and gesturing curiously toward the innocent looking spread.

Adam took a tiny swipe of butter onto the tip of his index finger and held it out with a smile. “Yes, indeed. Taste for yourself.” Kurt obeyed, wrapping his lips around the end of Adam’s finger and sipping off the butter, just slowly enough to make his pupils dilate. Adam cleared his throat. “What do you think?”

“Delicious,” Kurt said, teasing a bit. Then his brow furrowed as he licked his lips and realized, “Actually it really is. It tastes fantastic.”

Blue eyes twinkling, Adam said, “How’s the blocked nose?”

“How did you know I had . . . ? Whoa. Adam, it’s gone!”

Adam grinned brightly at his astonishment. “You sounded a bit snuffly when you first got home. And now I’ll bet you’re right as rain.”

Kurt pulled a deep breath in through his nose. Winter colds were such an average occurrence that he had barely noticed how little air he was getting before. “That’s amazing. You could totally corner the pharmaceutical market with this stuff.”

He laughed. “If it wouldn’t be a complete violation of secrecy and ethics, I might. But you certainly did your share. I guided the power and spoke the necessary incantation, but the rest was all you. You did very well at your first potion, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. Kurt personally felt a bit doubtful that he had really done anything, given that Adam had sung the spell that bound it all together, but it was nice to know that he might be able to do something similar one day. He glanced at the clock. “Oh, gosh! The others will be here any minute!”

As if conjured by the thought, a knock sounded on the front door. Kurt recognized the signatures of his friends as they touched the wards. He unlocked the entrance with a thought and yelled, “Door’s open. Come on in!”

The others piled in, the entire coven having arrived en mass; Dani, Elliott, Santana, Monica, Johnny, and finally Brittany.

“Hey guys. Something smells great!” Johnny greeted as he and Dani both passed over bottles of wine they had brought to complement dinner. “You said we were having pasta. I hope this is okay.”

“It’s perfect, thanks. Welcome everyone!” Kurt said, accepting the offering with a hug of greeting for each of them. Noticing how cold the embraces were, and how much snow was covering coats and hats, it was obvious that the group had not used any teleportation magic to get here tonight, “Is the storm getting any worse?”

Brittany, who had been looking oddly as if she were pregnant, opened her long overcoat and presented Lord Tubbington, who she set on the sofa before moving to give the hosting couple a warm hug. LT seemed disinclined to change to his human form right away, just stretching and yawning as he hopped up on the couch-back to observe the fun. “It’s pretty windy and we only have a couple of inches so far,” she said, taking off the coat, “but we’re in for a big blizzard, so we’ll stay the night with you. I brought pajamas for everyone so we can have a sleep-over. I got you purple ones so you can wear your new hat with them if you want! I bet you’ll look super cute. And also sexy, so Adam will want to keep you warm tonight.”

“He already has been if my Spidey-senses don’t deceive me,” Santana noted, taking off her scarf and looping it around Kurt’s neck to tug him closer. She looked into his surprised eyes and said, “Oh, yeah, our baby is finally getting some back!”

Kurt shoved his cackling ex-roommate away with a blush. “I never should have told you about Adam singing me that song.”

“Notice he’s not denying your observation, though!” Dani teased. She gave Adam’s rear a little squeeze in passing that had him yelping in surprise. “Good job, gorgeous.”

Needing to change the subject, Kurt looked to Monica for a distraction. “Are we really expecting a blizzard tonight?”

She nodded. “At least a couple of days. I’d say closer to three.”

“In that case, I’d better email the script revision Maggie asked for tonight, and get any homework assignments the professors might have put up on the NYADA website, just in case we lose power,” Kurt said, not questioning her prediction. Along with metallurgy and scrying, Monica was more reliable than a meteorologist at forecasting the weather. “Um, by the way. Not that you guys aren’t welcome, but why exactly do you need to stay here tonight? Between Elliott and Santana, you can all get home safely no matter what the weather conditions are.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” Santana demanded. She grabbed a grocery bag out of Elliott’s hand and shoved it at Kurt. “This is Hummel coven bonding night, right? So why not make it last! And since you’re doing all of the cooking tonight, we brought dessert. Hope you guys still like B and J.”

Kurt opened the bag to show Adam at least a dozen different small containers of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. “We’re about to have a blizzard and you got ice cream?”

She hopped up on one of the kitchen stools. “Sure, why not? We didn’t know what flavor you guys would want, so we bought a couple of everything they had in the freezer case.”

“Well I think both sleep-over and ice cream are excellent ideas,” Adam said, looking at a tub of Phish Food with a covetous glint in his eye. “And the wine will go perfectly with lasagna. Thank you all for the additions. Kurt and I were just making up some garlic bread, so dinner will be ready in a trice.”

“Hope that means soon,” LT said, projecting his mental voice to the room.

Kurt grinned. “It does. Should be ready in just a few minutes. Adam and I made a good-health charm for it, so it anyone is feeling under the weather this should help.”

Dani immediately looked interested and came around to examine the bowl of garlic spread. “May I?”

“Please,” Adam invited, smiling proudly at Kurt when the girl used a spoon to take a tiny dab of butter and taste it, promptly following with a deep uncongested breath of relief.

“Wow, this is good stuff,” she approved. “Like, hundred proof cold medicine!”

Kurt was a little concerned, “Too strong?”

“No way! Johnny, you need to try some of this.”

As Johnny came over to get a taste, Adam said, “Go ahead, but don’t eat too much of it. We still need enough to cover the garlic toast. It’s strong because it’s in pure form. Once it’s baked into the bread the potency will lessen a bit, but it will still be good for curing any wintertime sniffles.”

As Adam quickly moved to rescue the enhanced butter and get it added to the bread before his greedy friends could sample it all away, Kurt pulled Elliott aside for a private word.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant with you,” he blurted. “I’ve had a lot on my mind and I didn’t know that I was pushing you away when I refused your help with getting to and from places. You’re my friend and my Familiar, and I want you to know that I appreciate both of those things. And if you want to hang out more, or do things together more often, I would like that. Magical or non-magical, because Adam thinks that we really need more of both, and I agree with him, and he also thinks you should stay with us until the wedding so that you and I can develop a proper Witch-Familiar bond.”

Elliott looked startled by this quick burst of contrition. Then his usual bright grin appeared and he wrapped his long arms around Kurt to give him a back-thumping hug. “I’ve missed you too, buddy,” he said, not a trace of hurt or anger in his voice. “Of course we can do more together. You’re my witch, Kurt, so I’m always here for you. And did you just say wedding?”

“Oh. Oops, I hadn’t meant to spill the beans that soon,” Kurt said with a surprised laugh. He’d been in a hurry to get everything out and hadn’t even realized. “But yes. I asked him a couple of days ago and he said yes. We’ve decided to get married on Valentine’s Day and I’d really like it if you’d agree to be my best man. Or best cat! We can make you a tiny top hat and a sparkly tie if you prefer it that way.”

The taller man burst out laughing. “That could be super fun, just to see the looks on your other guests’ faces! But naw, man. I’m honored and I would love to. And for you, I’ll do the traditional human in a tux routine, or whatever you want me to do. I’ll even whisk you away to whatever honeymoon destination you choose, airplane free, as my wedding gift. That’s what being a Familiar is all about. Well, that and being your magical guide.”

“I’m just now learning what that really means,” Kurt admitted. “I have a few things to talk to all of you guys about tonight. Some important changes that need to happen if we’re all going to be happy and successful as a coven, but first I really need to make sure that you know how much I love and appreciate you and all that you do for me. Before any of this witch stuff happened, you were my best friend, Elliott. I don’t want that to change just because I have different commitments now.”

“I love you too, man, and nothing is going to change that.” He looked at Adam, who was now engaged in a game of self - defense with his butter spatula as he laughed and struggled to get the pan of garlic bread into the oven unmolested. “He’s a good guy, and I’m really happy that you two found each other again. Speaking of which, you both seem unusually relaxed tonight. Santana was right about you two, wasn’t she?”

Kurt could not help the silly grin that spread across his face. He nodded. “A couple of days now, and it’s every bit as wonderful as I knew it would be.”

“Aww, congratulations! On everything, not just the sex, but definitely congrats on that too.”

He folded his laughing friend into another enthusiastic hug, and when he let go, Kurt was startled to see LT in his newly changed human form standing right next to them. “Mazel tov, kid,” the large man said, clapping one pudgy hand on Kurt’s back and rubbing his fingers over the surface in a way that reminded Kurt of a kneading paw. “You’re a big commitment kind of guy, as taking on all of us kooky hairballs goes to show. You and Adam feel right together, and I believe that you’re doing the right thing by making it official.”

“Thank you, Lord Tubbington,” he said, not quite sure why he felt an instinctive need to be so formal. Perhaps it was because the man/cat was being completely serious for once. “That means a lot.”

Suddenly, a squeal from Dani rent the air and probably nearly burst poor Adam’s eardrum since she was now hugging him with all her might. Monica and Johnny were grinning like proud parents and clapping him on the back.

“I think Adam may have just spread the news,” Kurt laughed, not minding at all, especially when Brittany and Santana instantly ran to embrace him, Santana nearly choking him to death with the ferocity of her hug.

“Good job, lady-face,” she said, sounding a little choked up, though she attempted to pretend like she was not tearing up by quickly dashing away the moisture as she moved over to give Brittany a turn. “And good riddance to that last sham of an engagement. Consider it the disastrous rehearsal dinner that you’re supposed to have before the perfect wedding day. Please tell me you’re going to use a High Magic Day for the ceremonies?”

Kurt grinned. “Valentine’s Day!”

She made a face. “Seriously? Ballads, and flowers, and cupid vomiting pink and white hearts all over everything? Although now that I say it out loud, that does sound like your kind of day. Still, hasn’t that holiday been kind of cursed for you, between Gorilla Boy, and the Schuester-Pillsbury cold-feet-o-rama, in which you were injected with loser venom by the walking grease-gun?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the reminders. But that’s kind of the point. Adam knows I’ve never had a decent Valentine’s Day and he suggested we sort of redeem the holiday by making it our own. And you can’t deny that the level of positive feeling in the air created by all those expressions of love will make this the ideal High Magic Day.”

“He’s right,” Brittany told her girlfriend. “You know that’s why it’s one of the most popular days for the commitment ceremony, as well as weddings. I think it’s a great choice, Kurt.”

“Commitment ceremony?” Kurt repeated, realizing that Santana had also mentioned ‘ceremonies’ in plural. “What’s that?”

Brittany clapped her hands like a little girl. “That’s right! You’ve never been to one before! It’s a magical ceremony performed around the two of you by your family and best friends. It reinforces the connection you and Adam share, and the love we all feel for the two of you. It’s a spiritual wedding, different from a legal one.”

“Think Pagans,” Elliott told him. “The rite stems from centuries ago. It involves some ancient incantations and a couple of rituals to invoke luck and love, and to celebrate your strength as a committed couple. And don’t worry, it’s not a religious ceremony in the modern sense. We invoke the elements and the spirits, not God.”

“That sounds really nice,” Kurt decided, appreciating that Elliott knew him well enough to respect of his atheist beliefs. “And I’m actually glad that we have a way to celebrate as witches, since the actual wedding reception will have both magical and Standard guests. I haven’t sent out any invitations yet, but my boss has given us The Ballroom for our reception and I want to invite pretty much everyone I know to celebrate with us!”

He laughed, feeling giddy at the thought. The others made impressed noises at the news that Kurt and Adam’s party would be held in such a venue, immediately offering their services as decoration committee.

The rest of the coven danced over to offer their own hugs and congratulations to Kurt, as Elliott, Brittany, Santana, and LT did the same for Adam.

“You’ve got the reception booked, but what about the wedding?” Johnny asked. “Are you just going to sign some papers for a judge, or have an actual ceremony with an officiant?”

Kurt and Adam looked at each other, question in their eyes. Given the short planning time, they had thought to just ask Adam’s father to whisk them to the courthouse for a quick service in front of the grooms’ two families. They shared this plan, bracing themselves for reactions of disappointment, but to their surprise and relief, the coven was completely on board.

“Great idea,” Tubbington approved. “That way you can get married without a lot of people telling you how you should do it. If you want, we’ll come to the courthouse to watch. Or we can just greet you at the reception hall with a big fanfare of ‘Here Comes the Groom’. Then it’s party time!”

“That’s the part everyone shows up for anyway,” Santana agreed practically. “Cake, dancing, free food, booze, embarrassing toasts from your friends . . .”

The wicked gleam in her eyes left little doubt as to which part she was volunteering to provide.

“I can take care of the food,” Dani offered.

Johnny chimed in, “I have an uncle who owns a bakery in Midtown. He’s from the Standard side of the family but he knows all about us. He totally owes me a favor for some space savings and oven efficiency spells I did on his store when he first opened the place. You’ll have the best wedding cake ever. He does some beautiful three tier cakes, unless you need more. What flavors do you want?”

They grinned at each other and Adam said, “Three will be wonderful, and thank you mate. As for the flavors, what do you say to a vanilla base, a champagne middle, and a chocolate cheesecake top layer?”

Kurt’s eyes gleamed with approval. “Yum!”

“Sure,” Johnny said, pulling out his phone and sending a text to his uncle without delay. For Valentine’s Day, ordering early would be vital, favor or not. He received a chime back almost at once, showing it to his friends with a grin. It said, ‘Glad to! For all the $$$ you’ve saved me, your friends can even have an extra layer of white cake.’ “What do you think?”

“Sold,” Kurt said happily.

Brittany offered to conjure up as many flowers as they liked, and Monica and Elliott both had some connections on champagne and other liquor from past jobs they had worked. It wouldn’t be free, but given how many other expenses had just vanished from his planned budget, Kurt had no problem with that.

“You guys are amazing,” he told them. “And I’m really sorry I’ve been so stand-offish lately. I’ve been avoiding you instead of talking to you, and now I’m realizing how stupid that really was.”

The oven timer dinged just at that moment and Adam suggested, “Why don’t we all get our supper dished up and eaten. Kurt and I have some things to discuss with you lot, and I think that conversation would best be had over full stomachs.”

“Agreed,” Tubbington said at once, already heading for the kitchen. In his view, everything was best done over a full stomach.

The others curiously followed, but held their questions. Soon all nine of them had full plates in front of them and were gathered around the dining room table. Conveniently large enough to accommodate them all, complete with chairs, courtesy of Johnny and Brittany who used an expansion spell and a conjuring spell, respectively.

Food, wine, bread, and salad were enthusiastically consumed with many compliments, and it was not until the dishes were washed and everyone was gathered again in the living room with pajamas on (except for LT, who had chosen to resume his natural form instead), that Adam broached the topic that most concerned him.

“It has recently come to my attention that we, and I decidedly do include myself in that, have bollixed up Kurt’s magical training to a shameful degree,” he began. He held up a hand to stop the immediate babble of protest that rose up. “Did you know that Kurt was unaware that he needed to find his magical center and separate the individual Talents before performing complex spells? Or that one needs to weave power and spells together when creating a potion?”

They all fell silent, looking at one another in surprise.

“He also was unaware until this evening exactly what having a Familiar entailed, including the fact that they’re meant to be spending extra time together to cement their bond,” Adam continued. He met each pair of shame filled eyes squarely, reaching to his side to take hold of his fiancé’s hand. “Each of us has assumed that someone else was showing him the ropes, that he knew the basics of witchcraft simply because he was using it somewhat effectively. As we’ve all noted more than once, Kurt has enormous power at his disposal, but we’ve essentially left a powder keg sitting next to a lit furnace. There’ve been some complaints that we aren’t moving fast enough to confront Blaine, but what happens if Kurt goes to face him having little more idea than his enemy does of how to control his power?”

Elliott winced. “Kablooey.”

Adam nodded. “Precisely. Someone will get hurt, and if we’re lucky, that someone won’t be our own coven leader. He’s had dribs and drabs of training. How to See, how to separate normal singing from casting a spell, how to recognize and differentiate one power from another, but it’s like having a lot of individual cooking ingredients with no earthly idea how to blend them into an edible recipe.”

“We’ve been expecting gourmet meals from somebody who’d never even seen a spice-rack before we met,” Dani concluded with a self-directed grimace. “Shit.”

“And I thought you needed space to take care of Adam, so I’ve given you so much space that you’re on a different planet,” Elliott concluded, wrapping his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and giving him an apologetic squeeze. “Man, I’m sorry.”

Monica, who was sitting on the coffee table, reached out and squeezed Kurt’s free hand. “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling so much? I agree, this is totally our bad, but if you were completely lost why didn’t you tell us? You’re our coven leader, as well as our friend. It’s our job and our duty to help you when you need it.”

Kurt was blushing furiously by now. This was necessary, and would hopefully be very helpful in the future, but for now he just felt embarrassed. “I . . . I guess I didn’t really know that either. You all have had magic for years. Most of you grew up with it, and have been surrounded by it all your lives even before you could use it yourself. I didn’t even know witches were a real thing until a few months ago. I guess I should have said something, but I just felt more and more lost and stupid.”

“It’s hard to know what you need to know, when you don’t already know what you don’t know,” Johnny said wisely, holding his serious expression for a moment as everyone turned confused eyes on him. Then he grinned and said, “Y’know?”

The entire group laughed, easing the tension considerably.

“So basically, what you’re telling us is that we’re all a bunch of dumb-asses and Kurt isn’t the only one who needs to go back to the beginning,” Santana concluded with a wry smile. She and Brittany were sharing the love-seat, Santana stretched across her girlfriend’s lap, with Tubbington comfortably lounging on her. Unable to get up, she formed a fist and aimed a little force-field at Kurt to give him a long distance punch to the arm. “Noted and painfully accepted. Jesus, can you imagine what Coach Sylvester would have said if one of us had showed up for Nationals after having skipped nearly every practice that season?”

“You think this is hard?” Brittany barked. “Try building a squad of assassins from a kindergarten class! That’s hard! And also? Get off my squad before the stench of mediocrity kills us all.”

All of the former McKinley students cracked up, while the others just looked at each other in confusion, then shrugged, realizing you probably had to have been there.

Adam continued. “The good news is that we’ve discovered the difficulty before too much harm was done, so we can still take steps to remedy it. Our first step is to invite Elliott to stay with us and give Kurt some one on one instruction whenever he’s free of other commitments.”

“He’s already invited me,” Elliott said with a nod, “and I’m totally up for it. I promise I won’t get in the way, and I won’t sleep on your bed unless I know you’re not, uh . . . otherwise occupied.”

His teasing grin earned him a smile and a quick elbow to the ribs from his blushing best friend.

Adam cleared his throat loudly. “Ahem, at any rate, that’s taken care of. Secondly, I have recently begun looking for employment and I have a couple of promising prospects. If that goes well, it will free up more of Kurt’s time, as well as giving him relief from being our sole financial provider.”

There were several interested questions at that, and Adam quickly explained what had been happening since they last met.

“I gave my notice at the diner,” Kurt added, drawing a look of approval from Adam and surprise from the others. “I can’t keep up with all my commitments, including devoting more time to my magic, if I’m going to be a good friend or a good leader. Plus, I’m taking on a TA position with Cassandra July next semester at school, and hopefully devoting a few hours a week to combat magic with Troy and other jocks. I talked to him briefly today and he said he’ll check his schedule and help me work something out.”

“Kurt feels that he needs to learn combative spells, including self-defense against magical attacks, before we proceed against his ex,” Adam said.

LT nodded his head. “Smart thinkin’, Junior. Wild witches are hard to predict, even at their most innocent, and this one is anything but. With all that local power to steal from his brainwashed friends and little birdie buddies, he’s both dangerous and potentially clueless. I’m pretty sure sending Adam to the void was a complete fuck-up rather than a calculated move, and who even knows if that was an isolated incident or not. Building up your defenses is smart, and so is getting that training from an outside source that won’t be afraid to smack you around a little.”

“That’s what Adam thought too,” Kurt said ruefully.

He shrugged one furry shoulder. “Best way to learn, kid. Blaine ain’t gonna be giving you pats on the head if things get serious.”

Kurt agreed, “I know. He came at my head with a bo staff in Stage Combat class just three weeks after I’d gotten out of the hospital with a skull fracture, and that was when we were supposed to be in love. I’m not taking any chances.”

Unhappy expressions crossed every face at this news. Dani lifted her hand, catching Kurt’s attention, then formed a tiny ice sculpture of Blaine Anderson in her palm, which she then pointedly crushed into powder. This wordless show of support warmed his heart.

Feeling like everything was finally traveling down the right road again, Kurt told them, “In addition to the magical training, it would be good for me and for all of us as a group, to spend more time doing things together that are unrelated to being witches. I’ve . . . well, I’ve kind of been feeling lately that nobody else cared about that side of our friendship. We never have band practice anymore, or go to a movie, or just have an evening like this one that’s about having fun just being together. I’ve really missed you guys.”

Monica launched herself across the space between sofa and table and hugged him. Elliott joined in, then Dani, and soon all of them had formed a laughing, tearful dog-pile of witches, with Kurt in the center.

“You and me, hot dogs in the park next week,” Tubbington offered, transforming to his human self long enough to ruffle Kurt’s hair before switching back and flouncing out of the room on a mission towards Kurt and Adam’s comfortable bed. “Have a good night, kiddos. Save me some sausage and waffles in the morning.”

They all laughed, yelling goodnight to their retreating mentor. Taking his cue, the visitors took a few minutes to make up places to sleep, pushing back the furniture and making a cozy circle after Brittany helpfully whisked in the sleeping bags and air beds she had bought but left at her and Santana’s apartment. Kurt and Adam mutually decided to stay out here and join the others, leaving their room to the no doubt already slumbering cat.

“I really am sorry we let things get so far out of hand,” Dani said quietly to Kurt as the two of them spread blankets atop one of the air beds. “We’ll make up a rotation so that everyone can share magical knowledge as our schedules match up. And you and I are totally on for mani-pedi day once this storm clears up. Okay?”

“Count me in for that!” Monica offered with a grin, “And we should totally schedule in band practice once or twice a week. We can do it for fun, but One Three Hill needs to book some paying gigs, man!”

Elliott held up a hand and dipped his head, shaking his hand like he was attending a revival meeting, “Amen, sister.”

Kurt laughed. “Let’s start with the band practice, then figure out the other once things cool down, okay? My show at the Lexington is coming up in only two weeks, so I need to devote my spare time to that for now. Plus, I still haven’t come up with a song for my mid-winter critique.”

“We can totally help with that,” Brittany offered. “We’ve got three days until the blizzard clears. We can come up with choreo for you! Oh, unless that cranky turban lady is judging you again. She didn’t seem to like our first performance, even though you wore the hot gold pants.”

“The dick framers?” Santana asked, looking interested. “You never told me you wore those for your NYADA audition. And Tight-ass Tibideaux still rejected you? I thought she was straight.”

Kurt shrugged. “She has three ex husbands, but maybe that’s the problem.”

“Those gold pants definitely would have won my vote,” Adam murmured, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s middle as he came up behind him and kissed his neck. “I’ve seen the photos.”

Hugging those arms, Kurt looked around the room at his busy, laughing, chattering coven. The future suddenly felt a great deal brighter. He did not know why he had been so worried about talking to these people for so long. This coven was not like his fickle friends of the past. Not even the members who had been a part of that past. They, like Kurt himself, had grown up and changed for the better.

He smiled. He would take that leap of faith and believe that they would continue to move forward together.

“Who wants ice cream?”

THE END

#Witch!Kurt #Kadam #One Three Hill Coven #Lots of talking - they had a lot to say and would not be stopped #Seriously this sucker is over 12K words long

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