#for added irony you could have the first and last time she sings it be as Formless just before the confrontation with Restares

[supreme-leader-stoat]

Why is "Monster" from The Underworld Saga just. The Kholin family Anthem? Jasnah, Dalinar, Adolin, even Gavilar and to a lesser extent Elhokar. Only real outlier is Renarin. Which, normal.

Shallan too, if we're counting Kholins by marriage.

Aesudan gets "Puppeteer" instead, that's the closest I can think of for her anyway.

[blazingtheway]

The First Steps on a New Path - Storyline 10 – Together ( Part Three)

Continuing on From.....

•- Embry Call -•

“It’s payback for all the times I told you I was just here to look pretty, and you put me to work anyway!” I laughed and loaded the box into the Jeep. #Danni laughed so hard at Leah’s joke that she snorted and turned bright red. She clamped her hand over her mouth. She was  trying very hard to impress Leah. It was cute.

“She thinks that she’s hilarious.” I laughed and headed back towards the building with the supplies. “You like old cars?”

‘My dad does… I like going to car shows with him. You’re probably a car geek like him if you’ve kept  this going for so long.’ She hefted another box, and I grabbed three.

“Not particularly… I just always believed it was better the fix what you have instead of just replacing it. And I guess I get attached to things. But it’s getting hard to find parts for the old girl.” I  looked fondly at my baby and slide in the last of the boxes. I nodded towards Leah. “This one over here prefers two wheels to one.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Listening to the conversation between the two made me smirk some more.

#Danni felt comfortable enough to let herself show her true self with her laughter. It was kind of a cute sound with the added element of her reddened cheeks.

Until the conversation was set back on me  and the eyes widened tuning and rounding on me.

‘You ride?’ She asks like an excited child.

“Hmm…” nodding my head once. The girls turning to look at Embry and then back to me. ‘What kind of a bike is it?’

“He…” setting the boxes in my hand down and the banner from under my arm in the back of the jeep. “He is a Rocket X.” She clearly wanted more information from her reaction.

“2,500cc, 4,000 rpm , 2.5 litre engine…. Three-cylinder engine sitting in line with the chassis. When you Open up his throttle… he sings.” If I could take out my phone and take a photo of her, I would have. ‘He sounds amazing. Do you like giving people rides on him?’

My eyes went to Embry as to say. ‘Why the hell did you pull me into this conversation?’

•- Embry Call -•

I laughed and shook my head and laughed… “Really?” I gave Leah a deadpan look and then looked at #Danni again. “But he also runs on fossil fuel.” She giggled a little… seeing the irony of Leah knowing all those facts off the top of her head but would only say the Jeep ran on  fossil fuel.

“Nah she likes to keep him all to herself… But she makes up for it by sharing her time, wisdom and a healthy dose of sarcasm with all of us every single day.” I was teasing, but I gave Leah a look that said I saw all that she gave to all of us… and that did  include sarcasm too.

I closed the tailgate when the last box was in. “It's been an absolute pleasure Danni, and next time I’m in town I will certainly trust you and your guys to detail my beautiful baby.” I tapped the soft top. “Today she’s working hard for the good of the  Tribe, she’s earned a spa day.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“Facts, Call. It’s all about knowing the fact.”

They would all worry if my levels of sarcasm faulted. And he knew it too.

“Spa day.” Smirking at this little fact. He knew about spa days. An image of him with a face mask on came to light. Making my shake my head now. Reaching my hand out I shook the girls. Thanking her for her time and the help she and her dad were giving my Ma and tribe.

‘If you’re in town in the weekends, maybe bring your bike down. The guys here are great at detailing bike too.’

She was smiling, so I didn’t tell her that I did all those things by myself. Cleaning my baby, and detailing him, it was my way to relax and taking some time to myself.

“I’ll let Call over here lead the way. And… like I said. I will be sure to send business this way.”

Opening the door I slipped into the red  jeep, no one could miss this thing coming from the colour to the sound of it. And you could tell it was well cared for by Embry.

“Where to next?” The cloud over us shifted a little, letting the sun glimpse through. Giving me a reason to take my jacket off and place it over my knees.

•- Embry Call -•

I raised an eyebrow at Leah. “Because men can’t know about spa days? That’s very old-fashioned for such a modern woman.” I teased. I knew that Leah would never bring her baby here… tending to him was her meditation.

I took #Danni’s hand gently and smiled at her. “It's been an  absolute pleasure, Danni. Be sure to pass the gratitude of our Elders onto your father for us.” I winked and she blushed… I still had it! Even if her eyes did flit immediately to Leah and she lifted her free hand to hide that blush. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

She glanced up when Leah climbed into the driver’s seat. ‘Most guys won’t let anyone drive their vehicles… especially one they work so hard on.’ She said and I knew that anyone really meant women.

“If there’s one thing you should know about me #Danni; it's that I  am definitely not most guys.” I chuckled and she swatted my hand out of hers, which I moved so she barely made contact, saving her human hand the pain even a playful strike might cause. We said our goodbyes and I climbed into the passenger seat.

“I do believe that  the day is ours now, Trouble.” I smiled at her. “So… home… Unless you have a better idea?” I quirked a brow.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“Not at all.” My lips curled up a little. “More the fact that it is you, and of course you know about spa days.” Saying it with a matter-of-fact tone.

Not saying anything more just giving a small nod of my head when #Danni smiled and waved at me. But I did still there listening to the conversation they had. Embry was so much better than me as the building relationships with people. Today he had done so without thinking a number of times. His smile, the Call charm, the way he gave people time too. It was a gift, a skill.

And #Danni has hit the nail on the head at one point. Tiffany Call had brought her boy up in a way that other boys didn’t see. And now that he was a man on his own two feet, I could see his mother in him. Not just those eyes, or the dimples. But in his heart too.

Turning the key his Jeep came to life on the first try. Putting it in gear I slowly eased us out of the lot. “Home? Without Pizza from Leo? Do you want to explain that outcome to my Ma or your mom?”

•- Embry Call -•

“Sometimes I like to spoil myself…” I smirked and her. “And Glamour pays for all of their staff to have a membership at the best gym in town… their sauna is top notch.”

I laughed at Leah reminding me that if we returned without pizza… very specific pizza… there be  trouble. “I almost forgot about the pizza… The company of two charming young women can do that to a guy.” I laughed and buckled up. When we pulled out of the car wash I turned to Leah and smirked. “You know… I think our two-spirited friend back there liked me better by the  end.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“I’ve told you a million times, you’re too easy to distract. And today it was two women? So much for that warrior within keeping you in line. Maybe I need to have words.”

Keeping my hands on the wheel, and my eyes on the road. Noticing everything happening. The cars, trucks, bikes. The people on the sideway, the kids playing who were likely to run free. Cataloguing it all as I drove.

However, I could still see him out the side of my eye. Appreciating the fact that he put his belt on. It helped my shoulders relax just enough. ‘You’ve got this.’ My warrior whispered to me. Her openness protecting me from myself as she always did.

“Remind me to tell Leo if he is there. Have him made your pizza not so special for payback.” It wasn’t going to happen, that man didn’t know how to make everything that wasn’t perfect in his eyes.

Shaking my head, I turned his jeep onto Main Street, heading back towards the pitch and where the pizza truck lived. My mind going back to the time we spent with #Danni.

“I think she is a free spirit now.” Speaking with the respect the girl deserves. “She doesn’t see the flesh, more that she connects to the soul. Didn’t you see how she was drawn to you?”

It was something I knew about Embry and Seth, my kid. They were so open with their kindness that everyone was pulled into their orbit.

•- Embry Call -•

“Hey… he does all the hard work so I can enjoy life in the moment.” I teased her. I watched her taking everything in… that composed, calm/alert quality in her body language. We had been in the car a lot today… maybe it was wearing on her now.

I rolled my shoulders settling  a little into the seat. “We’ve spent a lot of time in the car today… You sure you don’t wanna stop somewhere, before Leo’s…” I lowered my voice and waggled my brows. “We could take one of the hiking trails… get lost in the woods like a couple of townies.” I stressed the word lost. “We could stretch out our legs… get some fresh air.”

I smiled at her again when she talked about #Danni. “Well, whatever shape that girl’s soul is... it’s a good one. She was far more drawn to you at the beginning.” I chuckled. “She’s going to fall in love… a lot…”  I laughed a little harder. “And it will be real and heart-breaking every single time until it's forever. #Seth will be the same… Unless…” Well, we both knew what the ‘unless’ could be…

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“Hmm…” He hasn’t wrong when it comes to reading people. “She reminds me a little of Littlesea Junior. That girl gives her heart away like it is candy.” And she loved full heartedly each and every time. How? I didn’t know.

Seeing him out of the side of my eye, I began to chew on the inside of my cheek. My wolf stirred telling me the man was clearly a mind reader. As much as I wanted to be done and go home, this had been the most amount of time I’d speat on four wheels in a long while.

“There’s not unless about it.” I finally said turning the jeep south at the next stop sign. “The kid has his soul our there. He just hasn’t met her yet.” I could see my baby brother so clearly, and I could tell that he wasn’t completed yet.

I took the next left taking the jeep towards the Peabody Creek Trailhead. Even a town such as Port, had a few beautiful trails that could make you feel at one with the earth and the forest.

“Stretching our legs, it is… If you think you can keep up with me, that is.” Lifting my chin towards the  sign post telling him where we were heading towards.

•- Embry Call -•

I laughed. “You know… the guys always thought that she would be imprinted on someday… but I never thought so. She’s a free spirit… Not like #Ness and #Kim; a different kind. I don’t think the Spirits would choose that for her, she needs to fly free… not that being an  imprint means you aren’t free…” I laughed. “Maybe I don’t have the right word to describe this for once.”

I nodded when she talked about #Seth. “He does… no doubt… They’ll be tested on the journey to find each other… because that kid will have an epic.”

I wasn’t actually expecting Leah to take my suggestion… but she was herself in the woods… so I suppose I should have. I smirked at her. “I don’t have to keep up with you Leah. I just have to be able to find you.” I chuckled… because that was kind of my thing.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Biting the inside my cheeks I took in what he was trying to say. “No. I actually get it.”

The girl even as a child was free in a way that the spirits loved, she was followed by love and affection. By anyone who saw her. Her family, the tribe, and the spirits. “We all have our callings, she has hers too. It will come to light when it is her time. Until then…” She would mark her place in the world until her path, whatever it was came calling.

Glancing at him from the side of my eye, the sound of his laughter filled the jeep surrounding me. It was then when my shoulders dropped a little and relaxed.

“Hmm… you could find me, but by the time you get there. I’ll be gone again.” These spirits had given him a gift that made sure he was never alone if he wanted to.

In wolf form Embry had an uncanny sense of direction, he could tell where  exactly any wolf connected to the mind map was, then without moments wait, the quickest route to get to them.

The scent of the forest called to me, as we left the town behind.

Bypassing the signed to the visitor centre, turning us towards the entrance of one of the longer trails. The townies didn’t use as much, even if sometimes you could never tell.

•- Embry Call -•

I chuckled a little… “This is why it's so easy to talk to you... you get it.  even when I make no sense. I’m sure she does. She’s even better at living in the moment than I am.” I looked at the signs we passed.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever hiked this one… I tend to head more  towards Neah Bay when I wanna get into the woods away from home.” I glanced at her and smiled; her whole-body language had changed already. She was more relaxed before she even parked the Jeep. We parked the car, and I climbed out, heading to the back of the Jeep to reach  around the backpack I kept there… it just had basics in it. “Just so we don’t look like inexperienced townies.” I chuckled. We already weren’t exactly dressed for hiking.

“You know you really brighten up when you’re in the wood, did you know that? It’s like another part of  you comes alive.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

The thing was… he made sense to me. I didn’t know how or when it happened, but something clicked into place. And the guy who once annoyed the life out of me with all his positivity, now made sense!

Climbing out of his jeep, it took me less than two minutes to braid my hair. Pulling it back and out of the way.

“Is that because going to Neah Bay takes you closer to your grandparents?” He had a connection to ancestors of two tribes. Joining him at the back, watching him gather his things my eyes moved over the opening, and I knew the way we would enter.

“It will help to blend in.” We really weren’t dressed to hike, but I didn’t really need a dress code. The blending was for the benefit for the people we could pass on the trail. Throwing the keys of his jeep to him. “You best keep those safe.” Pointing to  the pathway I began to walk. “The forest was and is my solace, it was the perfect place for me to go before I had my own place. The spirits have greater strength in nature, so it just makes sense.” As soon as I saw it, I pointed it out to Embry. “That there, is the single log entrance to the tail.” He was right, I came into my own when I was out here. But, he had been noticing?

•- Embry Call -•

I nodded and slung the backpack over one shoulder. “I think so… When there’s nowhere else I need to be it’s the direction that makes the most sense to me.” I smiled and caught the keys and tucked them into the front of the backpack and zipped the pouch.

I followed her towards the trailhead. “#Jacob says it is my inner homing beacon tugging me to my other home.” I laughed, but I knew he was right. La Push would always be home, but Neah Bay would always have a piece of my soul too.

I stopped and looked at the log-turned-bridge stretching across the creek. “Oh, I know a certain teenage girl that will get a kick outta this.” I chuckled and snapped a picture to send the Bear later on. This was not the time to field a text storm from her. I didn’t want my attention divided.

When we reached the tree-bridge I motioned to Leah to go first. “Age before beauty.” I waggled my brows because the subtle jibe was less likely to get me pushed into a creek than the saying ladies first.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

While he took the picture, my hand brushed over the inside pocket of my jacket, where the small device now sat, no movement, no sound. It was safe. 

It was hard not to hear the meaning behind his words. One in particular.

‘Need…’

Such a small word and it had so many intensions attached to it. 

“You know if you need to get away. You aren’t alone…. You have people who will give you what you need. Even if that’s time to leave and answer that call.” My wolf rolled her eyes at me, but she didn’t say what I felt her feel. “We all have that pull in us, more so I feel since the warriors in us awoke.” 

That’s how I liked to think of our change now. My wolf and the spirits always spoke about the warriors being in all our people. We were just the lucky ones, who woke up when our people needed us. Of course, in the early days, I called bill shit on this thought process. But the more I lived in my skin, the more I saw this to be true. 

“Is the call ever so strong that you feel like you’re in the wrong place?” He’d said before, how something in him always told him where he needed to be.  

The sight of the log bridge brought #Bear to his mind. Nodding my head once as I spoke again. 

“Hmm… yeah…. You’ll have to bring her up now that you know where it is.”

I knew that Kiddo would be happy to run the miles of forest with the guys. And they would carry her back if she over did it. 

Turning to look at him, with my eyebrow raised I shook my head slowly. “How old are you, five?” 

Reaching my hand out I smacked him upside the head. Then without any hesitation, with one foot in front of the other, I started over the damp wood without needing to hold the hand rail the locals had added. 

“Just say it as it is, you need to see perfection at its best.” Turning my head back over my shoulder, I was smirking now. 

‘More like he wants to check your arse out.’ My wolf teased. She was slowly waking up with the call of the forest so strong all around us. 

•- Embry Call -•

I smiled at her.. because, of course, she wanted to make sure I was okay and getting the downtime I needed. “I know… I don’t see the responsibilities I have as a burden. Or I try my best not to… mostly I succeed at that. Looking after Mom… the pack, the pups… the girls… I  love being part of it all. And yes…” I admitted. “Sometimes it's hard and I struggle just like anyone else. But lately…” I smiled at her. “Honestly… I know you’ll never let me live it down… but everything just feels… lighter… easier.” I knew that it was because of this thing between her and me.

I felt… happier, supported, in a way I never was before, and I had always been lucky enough to have amazing people to support me and encourage me in my life. And I wasn’t too macho to admit that now… with her… I felt protected from the things that had crept into my life and made me feel like I was constantly at odds with the world. She gave me the space and security I needed to let all of it out and then she was there letting me just be me it that time we had together in our bubble.

“I know where I can go when I need something. I promise… I’m not going to make the mistake of going it alone again. But what #Jake would call my inner compass… lately it's telling me that La Push is where I need to be and where I’m needed too. But I still make the trip out to Neah Bay for a day here and  there.”

I thought about her question. Did I ever feel like I was in the wrong place? “No… La Push was never the wrong place, even when I was a kid and it felt like it was. It’s home, Neah Bay is home too. But La Push is where I want to be.”

I tried to dodge the swat, but she was too quick. “Mind the hair!” I laughed and ran my hand through it. I followed her across the log. I was definitely checking out her arse.

“I’ve told you many times, Trouble… You gotta learn to slow down and enjoy the view.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“That wasn’t my meaning… I know you wouldn’t see any of it as a burden, but it doesn’t mean you deal with the bad on your own.” He’d done that once before, and I was still feeling it in my bucket of sins. How I could have missed his drowning while being his Beta. And now… Well… it was even deeper… And to hear him saying that things felt lighter these days, something must be working, right?

“Inner compass?” My lips curled up into a smile. “I like the sound of that. But if you tell Jake.” I did the ‘I will kill you’ motion once I reached the other side and turned to watch him following my lead.

‘See, now we get to enjoy the view. The boy is…’ I mentally snapped my teeth at my wolf. Some things didn’t need to be said to be felt. ‘Fine, but the hair… he is right… lets not mess with perfection.’ She laughed when I rolled my eyes. From the start she’s had a soft spot with Embry Call, and today was no different.

“Who said I’m not stopping to enjoy the view?” Raising my eyebrow, while pushing my hands into my jacket pockets. “Now, are you going to take all the rest of the day on the log? Get a move on.” I’d already turned whist walked away to catch the trail. This one was different to Royal Basin, as more people had walked a deeper path into the ground. But half way in there were off paths that could be taken for those who wanted to test their hiking skills.

•- Embry Call -•

“No… I know that. You of all people would never think that… #Jake gets it… #Quil gets it… But there are some;  like the staff at the hospital and people on the Rez that think I’m some kind of amazing son just because I hardly miss an appointment and if I did I’d make sure  someone else is there. They tell me how I must give up so much of my time to look after her. All I want to do is roll my eyes at them and tell them it’s the bare minimum.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “My lips are sealed… but honestly… I think you guys overestimate my  abilities.”

I paused when she stopped and looked back to check me out now. “I’m just letting you have a really good look. I did… so it's only fair. ” I teased her. “You’re welcome.” I grinned as I hopped off the log. I had to admit the whole idea of crossing a creek on a  log gave a sense of whimsy to this little adventure… the railing added to it was easily ignored to maintain the illusion.

I lengthened my stride to catch up with her on the path. “Any secret spots on this hike?” I leaned over closer to her and whispered. I clearly  remembered the trip to the Royal Basin and everything that happened there. I still had dreams about it.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Shaking my head as I walked. “That there isn’t a reflection on you, it’s actually the sadness of how some people in this world are alone and without people who care for them.” My eyes moved to find him for a split second as I continued.

“The hospital staff… even some on the Rez… they see people who have the mindset that being there in someone’s time of need is a burden… They see people who weep at not belonging. So, when they see you. It’s something they need to comment on.”

My finger was already up flipping him off before he stopped talking about me checking him out. I mean I knew I had a big head when it came to eyes on me, but Embry Call was in a league of his own.

“You really need to come off your high horse. Unless you want some help with it. I’m happy to kick your arse from time to time.” My eyebrow raised when he asked about secret spots. I guess he knew I liked to find places no one else did so that I could be alone with myself and my wolf.

“It’s not much of a secret, but… every few people know about a spot. Question is do you want to be told… or should it a show and tell?”

•- Embry Call -•

I nodded... she did have a point. “You’re probably right... I always thought that maybe they just didn’t believe they’d have anyone in their lives that would do for them if they were ever in need.”

I laughed at the irony… a woman like Leah showing the slightest amount of  interest in someone was the ultimate ego boost and here she was threatening the keep that same ego in check. “That’s probably the most ironic thing I have ever heard, Clearwater.” I smiled at her. “But we both know you won't take me home your mom covered in dirt… So, I’m  safe…” I quirked a brow. “For now.”

I tilted my head like I was thinking about her proposition…. “You know I love a surprise. Lead the way.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Okay, he also hit a nail on the head. There were so many who didn’t believe in those around them. Maybe I had been one of those people for the longest time.

‘You used to call yourself a lone wolf while surrounded by two packs.’ She was awake, watching, and of course commenting.

“Who in the name of the spirits is being ironic? I’m telling you out right… my arse is worth the hype. Yours…. Hmmm…” lifting my hand and moving it from side to side.

My lips curled up into a smirk, he really believed I wouldn’t kick his arse before going home to Ma?

‘You know you wouldn’t, she would chew your ear off.’ Spirits, she was annoying when she was right. Rolling my eyes now at her.

“Sometimes, getting your ear chewed off by your Ma is worth the trouble.” Answering them both together.

“Anyway, it would give Ma  a reason to feed you and pull your cheeks. You wouldn’t take the joy of doing it from her, would you?” The path curled off to the north, and the east. The northern side slowly growing steeper and the one we take.

“Some surprises, may lead you off the side of a cliff… still want to follow alone, Wisearse?” She huffed. And Fine… I wasn’t going to take him off a cliff. But…. A woman could hope…

•- Embry Call -•

I nudged her with my elbow and laughed. “I’ll remind you of that the next time you grab mine.”

I shook my head again. I knew that wouldn’t but if I kept pushing the issue, she very well may risk the telling-off from #Sue just to prove a point. “And the excuse only your mom  needs to dote on me is that I walked through the door.” I smirked, but it was true. #Sue spoiled the packs; she knew that we had a lot of responsibility, and she would lift the pressure as best she could anytime, we were there. Protecting the tribe was a full-time job on top of  the full-time jobs or schooling that all of us had too.. because we still had human responsibilities to maintain too.

I laughed then when her words pulled from my thoughts. It was a full belly laugh… the kind that had only become a regular occurrence in my life again in the  last few months. “I suppose that would only be fair… But just remember, I got there first.” I turned to grin cheekily at her, laughing the big laugh again.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Lost in that sound. That was the reaction of me and my wolf. We walked slowly watching him so closely that the world melted away. The hum of the spirits peaked in as the wind kissing my skin with a cool breeze.

Spirits… the way his eye lit up, the sound rang sweetly  in my ears, and more so, it was something that made me stop my breathing so that it was the only sound I could hear.

“Spirits.” Shaking my head slowly. Pressing my lips together I began chewing on the inside of my cheeks.

My mind gathered the last words he said. “On please, you may have been the first. But I will be the one who does it with style.”

Without anything else side, I started to jog up the incline, the moss full of some dampness as my boots hit the tops of it.

“Here, it’s up this way.” I broke out into a run, nothing too fast. I knew were alone, there were no new or fresh scents in the forest. But it was better to be careful.

•- Embry Call -•

I hadn’t missed her little whisper… she was paying attention to little things that were shocking her. She was always a detail-orientated person… but I was seeing more and more that details she wouldn’t have paid attention to in the past; were now the first thing she noticed.

But I couldn’t lie... the last few months had brought to light so many things about her that I hadn’t ever let myself focus on before.

“Will there be an audience this time? Or will I get the chance to kiss you in the ocean after you do it with style?” I waggled my brows at her.

I stopped to watch her bound up the bank on the side of the trail. “Spirits.” It was my turn to mutter it now. What a view!..... And she was gone, I huffed a laugh because I should have known. She was so quick. I took the rise in two long strides and  followed her into the trees and tried the catch up with her. Not that it would particularly matter.. we had just spoken about my knack for finding people. Was she testing the theory?

“Is this the part where you make me think I’m chasing you through the woods, but it ends with me going missing without a trace?” I teased her, I didn’t need to shout, she could hear me easily because I could still hear her moving through the trees.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

I left his questions unanswered; my words weren’t needed for them. He knew the truth and well, and if there was a question mark, it would give him pause to think.

My breath stayed as even as another person when they strolled in the park, as I leaped the creek after  making sure no one was there to see me.

The trees passed me, while I ducked and dived from the low falling branches. Until the sound of the falling water became clearer and clearer with every passing step taken.

Finally, my direction turned east, with a run up the side  of broken overgrown pathway that opened up into a small clearing. It was funny how the journey to this spot was testing for those who weren’t warriors, and then when you came to a stop. It was cleaned out, so those who found it could enjoy it.

“Still as beautiful.” I whispered to the cascading water and the sound of the hum in the air.

•- Embry Call -•

It was a gorgeous run, the trees were like the trees of home, but the earth was harder, dryer… it didn’t rain as much here, and I could tell by the way the soil felt beneath me. I couldn’t lie… the chase made me want to take off my boots and feel the ground against my bare  feet. Maybe even let my wolf out to explore here a little more. Expand those comprehensive maps my mind seemed to piece together of its own accord.

She made a sharp turn, and I trailed her, this was her surprise so I could follow her lead. I caught glimpses of her on the  terrain where my long stride helped me to compete with her quickness, but I never quite caught up. She was incredible, the way she moved through the trees because she belonged there… she left hardly a trace of her presence behind. Leaving the forest as pristine as it was before she passed through. Her scent and the occasional patch of flattened moss was all that lingered. The sound of cascading water reached my ears.

We came upon a path, and she started to slow and like we were in sync… so did I. I was glad I did because by the time I could see the crashing water she was standing in front of narrow falls, green life encroaching above, around and across the water. The spray that rose from the water caught the light when a breeze parted the branches above and let Grandmother’s light through. It glowed with little  spheres of colour all around her. The mist evaporated in the air before it could settle on her skin or clothes, save for a few determined droplets that settled on her hair and glowed in the dim light. Even with her back to me... She was a vision.

“Spirits.” I muttered. Tilting my face up to a gap in the trees. “I got the message.” I whispered to The Old Woman, she was reminding me once again that my fate and hers travelled the same path. I turned my gaze back to her and smiled.

She was a fucking Goddess. “But thanks for the reminder.” I whispered.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

I knew, without asking. His words weren’t for me, he was talking to them. And they were signing with joy in their midst. These places were where I came when I felt I needed a clear path to them, and also when I felt the need to just be with them and no one else. And I had come with him today.

They noted the difference in me today, then danced freely towards him. To the naked eye it would look like mist from the falls, but to me it was more. Mother Earth, the spirts of the water and the wind entwined to join, and to welcome him to them.

“He is listening.” I told them, but they knew this already. Because they pointed up to the sky and I saw the light kissing his forehead. “Spirits” Grandmother was kissing Embry Call, giving him her blessing. Was he on her path?

“Spirits.” I said to myself again, with my eyes not daring to leave the view before me.

The true question was, did he know? It wasn’t my place to step up and say anything, this was a personal moment that no one had the right to spoil or stop. So, I took a few steps away to give them the space he needed to have with her. But them his eyes came to find mine and he smiled that smile. The one that stopped my heart in its tracks.

Tilting my head to the side. I took him in. His broad shoulders, the height, the way his hair caught the light, and his eyes. Spirits his eyes sang so loud each and every day. And I wanted to listen to them now that I’d seen them. I smiled back. Because he has become the one person who saw the truth, no matter how often I tried to hide. There was on hiding when Embry Call looked into your eyes.

•- Embry Call -•

She had turned to face me, and if I had thought she was a vision from behind… there were no words for how she looked with a dewy sheen of mist across her face; evaporating and reforming continuously as the spray from the falls fell again and again over her cheeks. I heard her  words and knew that they weren’t for me. She was having her own moment. And it was beautiful. I watched it all unfold, enraptured.

I smiled and closed the distance between us, I reached up and touched a loose strand of her hair that the droplet had clung to. Running my fingers over it only served the make the soak into the hair, it fell straight and wet against her cheek. I was breaking oh-so-many rules right now. My ears were trained on the world around us… there was no one here, I would never push those boundaries anywhere that would put our little bubble at risk

My eyes stayed locked on hers. They were dancing with the reflected colours of the light shining on the falls and whatever she was thinking. “Don’t kill me.” I whispered to her. Normally those words were followed by a kiss. But right now I just  couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

I lifted my hands to her cheeks, brushing my thumb across the sheen that coated them and watched her skin dry due to her incredible body heat, and then slowly the mist regathered on her face as I cradled it. “Beautiful.” I said, softly… it  was the only word. She was truly beautiful all the way down to the centre of her soul.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

My heart stilled. My breathing slowed. My mind blocked the sounds of the world around us once I knew we were the only ones here. And I allowed the water, the spirits and his heart beat to become the rhythm of this moment.

He has been touched and blessed by our grandmother, he had listened to her which meant he had heard her.. Goosebumps weren’t something I experienced often, however my skin tinged as they came to form over me.

He has places trust into this path we were walking on. Each of us with our eyes set on what our choices were. And these choices brought us here today. Brought him to a place where he could look beyond the universe and see the light of our ancestors.

I felt like a thousand touches caressed, when his hands were so delicately placed, making me gasp a little. The rules ran through my thoughts, but the spirits sang of touch, of care, of the moment. Which in turn made me smile. (They were most definitely on his side here today.)

Eyes… Spirits his eyes… I couldn’t take mine away from them. It wasn’t from the stubbornness of not being the first to drop them. No… it was from the intrigue and excitement of what I saw in them. That was until my lips curled up, because knew those three small words came with mischief. The kind that would pull off my urge to throttle him. Not this time, my sight dropped to his lips, then slowly followed the line of moisture settling over his features.

The curve of his jaw.

The smooth skin of his face, with just a hint of growth starting to show.

His nose... which I had the urge to bite.

His forehead... with the glow of conversation with his spirits…

“Beautiful.” I replied back to him in a softly whispered voice for his ears only.

And I hoped he understood that it was not  just the exterior. I observed the son, the brother, the friend, the mentor, the supporter, the kind soul… the list was endless of what he succeeded in sharing.  When anyone viewed this man, they all witnessed something different, I was sure. It had become so clear to me.

This man… Embry Call had many, many, many different facets hidden in those eyes.

•- Embry Call -•

I smiled, she was here, only here, in this moment with me. Even if I could mentally hear her reciting the rules in her head. But that was allowed. The rules were for our bubble, after all. And if that meant that, for once… I was the one straddling both worlds; I would do that  for her. To allow her these seconds… maybe even minutes of weightless, free-thinking and feeling… then that was exactly what I would do.

With one foot planted in this world of magic and Spirits… and her… And one in the rest of the world with my ears trained on the  trees for anything remotely human. To allow her that security… Everything else was hers. She was all I could see, all I could smell, all I could feel. My hands on her cheeks, her hands on mine. I knew the second I felt her touch; this moment would live forever in my mind, and I silently told the Spirits that f I died tomorrow… this was the moment I wanted for my paradise. If I was worthy of such a thing.

“Extraordinary.” I replied to her compliment. “For a woman, so many believe to race through life and never stop too just be… You always take me  to the most remarkable, magical places.” I turned to kiss her palm and brought my eyes back to hers immediately. I didn’t want to miss anything. “Will you promise me one thing?” I smiled. I knew how seriously she took promises, but I knew no matter where this path led… no matter what we were to each other at any point in our lives, she could keep this one.

I dropped my voice… so low and soft that not even the Spirits could hear. “Never stop surprising me.”

•- Leah Clearwater -•

The kiss he placed on my palm lingered with a heat that wasn’t something I felt before. This is where the unspoken outweighed the spoken, and it felt deeper.

I stilled, my eyes burning into his and I held my breathing. He didn’t ask for promises, and the fact that he knew  I would take death over a broken word. It had to be something worthy of this moment we were sharing with the universe.

“I…” tilting my head I pressed my lips together. “Hmm…” I let the words sit for a moment. And when I was sure I heard him correctly. I answered. “Never Stop Surprising You?” He wasn’t joking. “This is the promise you want to ask of me?”

As soon as I asked the question, I felt the wind pick up and pelt me on the back of my head.

The message clear. ‘Stop asking questions instead of answering.’ And sure, it was something I disliked doing. But by the Spirits, a woman needs to make sure she understands the importance of a promise before giving her answer.

I wanted to snap my teeth and tell them to back off. But with company. Even I knew Embry would get it. That was going too far for me.

•- Embry Call -•

I saw the moment in her eyes when she realised, I was about to ask her for a promise… I smiled. Because her first reaction wasn’t to run away before I could get the question out.

One corner of my top lip lifted in a smile. She was turning the words over in her head, looking  for any loopholes I might have weaved into the request… I didn’t blame her. I found loopholes in our rules all the time. That breeze picked up again and I wasn't sure if the message was for her or me. Was I asking too much?

“That’s all…” I smiled meaning it. I leaned in  until our noses and foreheads touched. “The occasional surprise…” I took in a long breath of her scent. “No… is always… will always be, an acceptable answer, Leah. Always.” It was the truth; it wouldn’t mean our path wavered. That one word wouldn’t drop a wall in front of  us telling us we had nowhere left to go. I knew that the same was true for her… I could say it to her, and she would hear it, and respect it.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Closing my eyes, I took the moment as it was meant for us. The breeze blew strands of my hair into his face the scent of him filled my senses.

“I know.” I did. “I know I could say No, and that is it. You wouldn’t question it or me.” One of the things I knew about him for a  long while.

But this wasn’t a big ask. “I promise Embry, I promise Never to stop surprising you. However big or small it may be.” I could do that because he wasn’t asking me to change. He was asking me to continue being me.

My hands found his, and I laced our fingers together. Pulling back enough to glance over to the falls and then back to his deep dark eyes.

“Who knew you could ask for a promise, especially since neither of us believed in staying put long enough to ask or to be asked.” Spirits, was this the lesson for today?

To gain trust, you had to be willing to trust yourself? But we did, right? We had shown trust in one another time and time again. Before the night he had kissed me.

•- Embry Call -•

I knew that this was essentially me asking her to keep being herself. But it was so much more at the same time, those words, I promise … from her lips it meant a lot. I know what it cost her, the act of the promise itself; was a huge leap of trust that I didn’t take  lightly and the smile on my face undoubtedly showed her how deeply I understood that.

She’d given me her trust… so much trust over this entire journey. And today… it was even deeper. She had faith in me.

Those kinds of encounters she was talking about couldn’t compare to  a lifetime of history and everything it’s evolved into; she knew that too. But if she needed the heaviness of the moment lightened… well that was kind of my speciality. “Me.” I smiled and flicked my eyes to the falls, the Spirits dancing in the mist that continue the dry and  settle on our skin in an endless cycle of blessings. “Them…”

I chuckled now. “I would have… but you hesitated.” It wasn’t a true hesitation… she was giving it serious thought. I lightly bit the end of her nose and flashed her a broad smile.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“Hmm… “ He wasn’t wrong. “They know far more than they let on, because we have to make the choices to walk over the path.” Tilting my head, a little to look back at the water.  “Not that it would stop them from kicking my arse, if I choice one they weren’t full agreeing with.” My lips curled up into a smirk. Because on those paths too, they wouldn’t stop me. Those were where the lessons were learnt for life to grow.

Rolling my tongue over my teeth, I raised an eyebrow looking back to him. “I did not hesitated, Embry Call. I make sure I had all the information, before making my decision. There’s a difference in the two I’ll have you know, Wisearse.”

I moved out from between his arms, taking a few steps away and them towards the falls. “Embry…” Biting the inside of my cheek I lean onto the wooden fence. “You’ve never said anything about the fact that I see the spirits, that I talk to them.” Turning my head to catch sight of him. “Doesn’t it bother you?” I’d never thought of asking him the question. Mostly because the nights he stays with me, the spirits let me be. I’d only shared spaces like here, and the Royal basin with him and them together like this.

•- Embry Call -•

I let her go when she stepped away, curling my fingers against the fabric of her shirt; just to let her know that I would always keep her closer if I could. I respected the space she made between us and took a moment to appreciate the sight of her backdropped by those gorgeous  falls. The urge to take a picture fell over me… I was normally one to appreciate the moment does not ruin it by trying to freeze it in time. But right now I wanted to do both. Instead, I fixed the moment in my memory.

Her question made me exhale… I had a lot of thoughts on  this. “Your relationship with the Ancestors and Spirits is sacred, Leah. I don’t ever want to be a roadblock in that connection. But there are a few things that bother me about it.”

I moved closer. Not wanting there to be too much space between us that she would think these  things bother me were a deal breaker. “Maybe bother is the wrong word… but don’t understand… Like, why they don’t let you sleep? I know that it's time they use to teach you things… but never?” I shook my head… dropping my gaze for a second. “It seems cruel… and then… I started to think… maybe that’s why they joined our paths… because you seem to sleep when I’m with you. But we can’t spend every night together.”

I leaned on the fence now, within arm’s reach of her. “Keeping you from dreaming… and that night… in the bar, when #Jay and  #Kim were having their… crisis. It was like you were in pain… in actual physical pain and I don’t understand why they would do that to you.” I sighed heavily now. “You sacrifice everything for the pack, your family… the tribe. And they seem to take so much from you… I can’t see  any reason why… I can’t see how it helps the tribe, or you, or the Protectors. Maybe it isn’t for me to understand, but I wish I could.” I turned to catch her gaze and paused, falling a little deeper into the depths of her eyes. “I would give up all of my dreams just so you could have one night filled with the best dream you’ve ever had.”

I had so many dreamed-filled nights in my life… I could give up the rest of those just so she would understand the depts of dreaming. I had more than enough to hold onto.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

By the name of the Spirits, this I hadn’t seen coming. Questions sure, however such deep filled ones,  and the fact that I could tell he really had put some thought into it. I stood glancing at the water for a while. Thinking, listening, and understanding where Embry was coming from. Why he would see it the way he did, and how I could explain it.

This was my life, had I questioned it? Yes, I had, but had I pushed for it to change? No, never, not once I came back from being lost.

“It’s hard for me to put things into words. But let me try?”

I saw the bench behind us, nodding my head towards it. I turned, taking his hand in mine to guide us towards it, hoping to show him that anything he wanted to know, I would find a way to answer. But where should I start? Just by answering his questions maybe? Addressing the things, he was concerned with to start with? Yes.

Sittig down, I let his hand go, crossing my legs before me, I clasped my hands on my thigh.

“Sleep…” I started… “it’s… best if I start with the history of me and my relationship with them?” Nodding my head towards the mist still dancing in the air. “You know that I was born with this.” Moving my hand around me. “Some call it a sight, some a connection, and some call it a madness.” How many times had I heard those whispers…

“As a young kid, I didn’t see a difference in the way I spoke to them… and how I spoke with… say Rachel and Becca.” Finding the two names of those who were closest to me growing up. “They were all as real to me as the other. I learnt as I grew, not understanding the concept of what others saw. But that changed as my youth became older. When the world’s eyes weren’t so forgiving to a young girl with something that was seen as abnormal. I wanted to be like the others, I wanted Friends, I wanted what other girls had. So, I closed myself off. I stopped it all: they kept trying and I pushed back. Until…” My eyes moved to the water again. “Until my change. They no longer were asking to be let in, they kicked the doors down.”

My eyes searched his to see if this was something he had been aware of,  or if it was new information. “When I finally stopped fighting and I let them in… it was like opening the floodgates. I was drowning. Until the Great wolf stepped in. He held them back. Letting them step down to speak to me, one at a time… Until I could learn to do it for myself.” Shaking my head. “But, But by then I had grown to resent myself…” Chewing on the inside of my cheek thinking for a breath, and letting Embry soke in what was said.

“My body sleeps, my mind to a point does too. But it’s not the kind of sleep you would expect from someone I guess.” What was I trying to tell him? “The years I had closed myself off had to be pushed into a short space of time. I couldn’t do it in the waking day. Not with everything that was happening…. All our lives were turned upside down… Da…” I pressed my lips together looking back towards the waterfall again. I didn’t need to rehash that time out. It had been there for all to see, and Embry was there too. “I didn’t want an easy path, maybe as a punishment, maybe with the realisation, that I could have seen what had happened coming… if  only I hadn’t closed myself off trying to blend in? I could have saved our tribe’s young… maybe the pups wouldn’t have changed so young if I saw it all. They could have changed when it was their rightful time…. Maybe Da….” My throat tightened a little. But I pushed past it. “My bucket of sins had grown so deep, and I didn’t want to go unpunished for my mistakes.”

I didn’t dare pull my eyes away to the dancing spirits who begun to move closer to me, to cocoon me from myself. “Anyway. I gave up my sleep, my dreams so that I could learn. So, that I could gain the most powerful thing at my disposal… Knowledge… As time went on, I made the choice to continue that way. It’s not our spirits who are cruel. This was a choice I made.”

My mind moved back to the situation Embry, addressed next. #Jay and #Kim. How could I explain what took place there? “I have a responsibility to the tribe, to the pack, and to those who came before us. Listening, learning, and sharing…. That is what I was born to do. I for the longest time believed I was…. Born… to sacrifice.” This part I knew was not new to him. We’d spoken to it before. “What happened with a Warrior and their Imprint doesn’t affect me, until it is something I should have seen coming, something I could have helped or supported them with. I had missed something with those two… What occurred wasn’t a punishment on me. It was a visual of what they were feeling….” Was I explaining this correctly at all? “If I were to say to you. Kim was upset. She felt she was aging out past Jay… You may understand. You may have an idea of how she felt. But the spirits… they take a different route with me. Because I can’t see those things. To me age is nothing. Jay will be hers no matter what.” Rubbing my forehead because I knew I couldn’t find the words to explain my shortcoming. “Sometimes for me to understand the pain someone is going through… I need to feel it too.” Scoffing a little as I laughed at myself, shaking my head. How imperfectly perfect could I be? . “Stone hearts, cannot understand those with soft hearts.” Someone had once said that to me. and it came in handy now.

Finally, I turned myself to face him. “I don’t want you to give up on your dreams, Embry. I couldn’t take those away from you. I’m fine with how I am. This is all my choice.”

•- Embry Call -•

I knew that it was difficult for her the find words for her feelings… and this conversation was bound to be full of them. This was her relationship with the Spirits… her ancestors, our ancestors. It’s a pity we weren’t a little further from home or I might try and convince  that beautiful Spirit animal of hers to show me all of it. I followed her unquestioningly to the bench… she was really going to answer all of these questions? She knew she could always tell me… this is private… or I’m not ready to share and I would take her hand and walk back to the car just like we’d walked here.

I flinched when she used the word madness... I knew it was a word people had used, about her or to her face. I had never really understood because by the time I was old enough to have remembered to behaviour they were talking about; it was gone… I thought it was just small-town bullshit, the same as I had put up with for being the Makah kid on the Quileute Rez. But I wouldn’t interrupt her when she was sharing something so personal.

My heart broke for her… I knew what it felt like to want to fit in… but I had always had #Jake and #Quil. Other than those few short months when I had to stay away from them for their own safety. “Wait!” I couldn’t stop the breathy gasp… was that why she was the only woman that was called to protect the tribe? She had closed  them out and they made the change to find their way back in? No… they wouldn’t… they… Couldn’t… could they?

No… It couldn’t be. She heard them her whole life because she had always been destined to phase. But could the Spirits have predicted that the Cullens would  return to Forks when Leah was still just a child?

I knew her body rested, we could last on less sleep than a human, at least once the intense growth spurt and muscle building were over…

After the first change, I had slept almost an entire day to recover from the toll it had taken on my body… I remember the young pups… they had so much growing to do after phasing at just thirteen… for almost a year they slept every second they could. Leah had no problems keeping up with any of us… So you never could have called her sleep deprived… but it  just wasn’t the same. Or I suppose it wasn’t to me… But Leah… she had her own way of seeing the world. It was her life… no one else’s. But how can you imagine a world you didn't experience? Asking these questions, I supposed.

My heart wrenched again at the mention of her  father. Did she really think she could have changed things with the pups and Harry? The vampires in Seattle and coming after #BellaSwan was what caused the kids to phase and that phasing probably saved one of those kids lives. I know I had used the word cruel… but not implying that the Spirits were cruel… or… not meaning to anyway. But thinking about it now… it did seem like that was what I meant. Maybe somewhere deep down I did… but I never claimed to be perfect.

I chewed on my lip… this wasn’t the first time that I heard her refer  to herself as a sacrifice… she had used the word disposable… more than once. But the meaning was much the same. It still baffled me that the Spirits expected her to manage the relationships of the imprinted wolves… the division in the packs made that impossible. I knew  that there was nothing she could say to me that would make me feel okay with what I had seen that night in the basement of the HWH. I took in a long breath when she was done and let it out for even longer.

“I know you wouldn’t Leah… And I know it’s not an option. But the  simple fact that you would never want anyone to give up a single thing for you is exactly why; if it was possible to give you even one dream… and the cost was the rest of mine. It would be worth it. It has been far too long and far too late for someone to sacrifice just one  thing for you for no other reason than you deserve it. I have more than enough dreams to hold onto. But at the same time…” I chuckled. “I couldn’t force it on you. If you choose those nights with the great wolf… who am I to steal even one of those from you.”

I paused for a moment and processed what she’d told me. “I can’t tell you I understand what it was like to have people call you mad and all of the things people said to you. You know that I had my own issues with being judged, but it was always petty prejudices, it was never really about me… it was about ridiculous cultural divides, from people with small minds or people raised by the small-minded. By the time I heard the things people said; you were older, and I just assumed it was all idiotic rumours. I thought… I see this girl all the time at #Jake’s  house and she never does that… they have no idea what they’re talking about. I’m sure when you realised that most people didn’t see the world the way you did, it was… Scary. And I couldn’t guess what else… but now… knowing you can still see them like that…” I shook my  head and smiled. “It’s amazing… you can see the magic that makes us what we are… hear their songs…” I fell silent… What I wouldn’t give to hear those songs.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

“That’s the thing… you don’t have to fully understand everything today… but by me trying to explain… maybe… a little of it may settle into your mind or in your heart….”

Telling your story is never an easy ride, laying your cards out on the table, opening yourself up to  the possibility that the person across from you wouldn’t fully grasp what you’re talking about. But I didn’t have that fear to face when it came to this man.

Embry had shown faith in me when he told me his story, and he had stumbled into part of mine in Seattle. Not once did he mention judgment. Today was no different, he listened, he didn’t offer solutions or give opinions. He told me what it looked like from his side of this bench we sat on.

“I’m not perfect… I can’t lie… sometimes I do just myself time to think about what used to be said.” Shaking my head because I was not proud of it.

“But… Someone you know really well once told me… Healing can be hard when your inner child only wants love, your teenage self wants revenge, and your present self just wants peace.” His mom had the best advice.

“I don’t expect anything from those people, I don’t hold it against them anymore either. I am a warrior of our ancestors it is my responsibility to protect and defend them. So… I choose peace over reliving the past…”

My eyes rested on the  water before us, watching the presence of light, reflecting off and on to the water falls.

She was listening to me and watching him whenever my eyes would find his face. She smiled as he spoke about giving me his dreams. And she made our chest feel so warm, that I had to place my hand on mine to give it a little rub.

‘He will make sure you do not go back to how you were. Balance… that is what had always been missing from you.’ 

Once again, she refused to acknowledge that she was right there with me. (Even if we both knew, her fighting me  would never have happened.)

“We all can hear them in our own ways, Embry. For some it’s a beautiful dream, for others it’s the emotions they feel from time to time. Or the sound in the air as the wind blows through.”

‘We could show him?’ She whispered. And I shook my head. Not here… not now… this wasn’t the place.

‘No…  I mean yes… that too… but sing…. Sing it to him?’ Biting the inside of my cheeks, I listened. To her, to them, to him…. Could I?

‘Yes…’ She whispered, as the spirits began to change the tune. I could hear it as clear as a summers day. He knew I could sing, he had heard me, but this was difficult. I’d never shared their words with another.

‘Because no one has asked you too before.’ She reminded me. And this was true too. No one had asked me to share their songs. Stories of our ancestors sure… but the music? Never.

I closed my eyes, calmed my breathing, the beating of my heart. Opening myself up to them. So, when I looked out to the water fall, I saw them like stars twinkling before me. As they gave me permission, I nodded my  head once in understanding. These were his learnings as much as they were mine. He’s stories and his history.

But the song they sang for him now. It wasn’t about the past, it was of finding peace within yourself, and the power that comes from it. “Forgive me if I make a mistake.” I whispered to them, knowing he could hear me too.

(Music Credit - Peace and Power by Joanne Shenandoah - https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=ip56gP3mQzE&feature=share )

•- Embry Call -•

I nodded. “I’m starting to… understand. And thank you… I know that you know you don't owe me any answers. But you gave them to me anyway.” I lifted one of her hands from her lap and held it. I knew I was breaking a rule.. but there was no one here… we could make this place temporarily our bubble. Right?

I smiled wide… “Oh, the revenge line!” I laughed. “Of course, that was the line I focused on when I was a kid.” My gaze met hers. “You know how much she loves you, don’t you?” I know she wasn’t fond of that word, but she had used it first.

I laughed again, remembering the walk I had with Grandmother. “Or they talk in riddles.” I muttered… still intending for her to hear. 

I could tell by how still she was that she was having one of her silent conversations again… but with whom? Her wolf… the Spirits… the Great Wolf? Surely a presence like that would lie heavy in the air. Impossible to miss. Then I heard it.

It was her voice…. Like I had never heard it before. She was singing their songs to me… I hardly took a breath while I listened… she was… it was unearthly. Beautiful… more than I ever imagined. My eyes stayed on the misty falls, drifting from them to her and back the whole time she sang. I could hear them in her voice, the music of the crashing water in the background. I was speechless… I, Embry Call… was speechless. That never happened.

I crocked one finger under her chin and turned her face to mine, bringing her closer until our foreheads touched, and I rested my hand against her cheek. I was breaking all the rules now.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

After I finished, we sat there for I wasn’t sure how long. I squeezed his hand, and my eyes lifted to meet his, how did time bend and compress so greatly when I shared it with him? The question still to this day remained unanswered. 

We were both breaking those rules I had been so adamant in creating and placing for us, and our bubble. I closed my eyes now, breathing in this forest around me. It wasn’t home like the forests of La push but having his scent here with me made it somewhat familiar. 

“I think she called it the growth speech, so maybe don’t tell her your takeaway is the revenge part.” It was a tease, because I had taken all of her advice to heart, I had thought she was teaching me to keep the world out. But she wasn’t, she had tried to teach and guide me on how to survive with my head held high. 

Love… that word…. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. And my breath stops. My battle with it was still raging, just not as strong as it had once been. 

“I know she does, she’s never stopped reminding me over the years.” My voice was steady with the years of practice, but my emotions were a riot uninterrupted to the most parts. I may not say the word, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel the emotion toward those who cared for me. 

“Rule breakers…” I whispered… “They are all going out the window today.” Turning my head, I kissed his palm once.

Still unable to believe what I had done.

•- Embry Call -•

Her warm brown eyes found mine and I smiled. She wasn’t pulling away, she was here… all in… breaking all the rules right along with me. “I was a fifteen-year-old werewolf.” I chuckled and cringed at the words we used back then. “Maybe I was a little jaded. But I think that’s  understandable, right?”

I felt how that word had made Leah stiffen… but it was the only way that Mom would describe her relationship with Leah. “And she never will.” I chuckled. My grandfather had grown up in a very Catholic home… with very little affection. So, when he  made a home and a daughter of his own, he decided to break that cycle and filled his house with I love you’s, hugs, kisses, and music. My Mom raised me (And #Jake and #Quil) the same way.

The press of her lips to my palm made my heart skip. I caught my bottom lip, knowing she heard it. “Well, since the rule book is closed for a moment…” I leaned in and pressed my lips to her forehead. “We should make the most of it.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “That song…” I whispered and pressed my lips to hers… “Was the most beautiful thing I ever heard… and that is saying something coming from me.”

I didn’t thank her, I knew she wouldn’t like that. But there was no way I could ever let this moment pass without acknowledging it.

•- Leah Clearwater -•

I wanted to smack him upside the head. We were not werewolves, and I disliked the comparison with a passion. But this wasn’t the time for such a reaction.

“We were all jaded to an extent, I guess. No one can be blamed for how we reacted at that age. It wouldn’t be fair in the slightest.’ I knew he had it harder, making the choice to keep his mom out of the secret of our life hadn’t been an easy one to make. At least #TheKid and I had ma as our backup, our support system in the real world. As much as she tried to be there for Embry, as much as #Billy tried too, some battles were his to fight.

I raised my eyebrow when I heard his heart. It had become my favourite soundtrack, one that gave me calm times to think and be myself. It was also a telltale sign that Embry Call was about to do something which could cause his arse to hit the ground.  

But before I could react, my warrior stepped up to stop me. She showed me the moment we were in, she showed me the forest clear of scent and sounds, she showed me the emotion in which this moment was being lived in. So, I closed my eyes, letting him kiss me on my nose, and letting the warmth of his lips touching mine whelm me.

I kissed him back, letting my lips move with his for a few minutes before pulling back to meet his gaze. “We are breaking them all.” I whispered, shaking my head. “You’re a bad influence, Embry Call.” Heat rushed up the side of my neck at the compliment. “It’s their song, I’m just a voice so that it can be heard.”  I told him.

•- Embry Call -•

I caught the way her pupils constricted at the word, but back then it was all we knew. “We all had our trials back then, all different… none can be compared or quantified. But we all made it.”

She returned my kiss, not just allowing me to kiss her, this entire time she was here with me. Living in this moment only. Her evolution was happening before my very eyes. Was mine as plain to see for her? “Thank you very much for noticing.” I teased, nipping at her lower lip. “I work hard at it.” I smile, my thumb sweeping against the corner of her mouth. “And we’re mostly bending them.”

My heart was still beating out of time, in a rhythm that couldn't be pinned down. The song still filled my head, only now I could hear it, in the sound of the water, the wind in the trees… even the birds were singing it. How had I missed this? It was everywhere. I closed my eyes, letting her be my eyes for a moment and keep watch to make sure our bubble remained only ours. I tilted my head up and just listened. “I can still hear it.” I whispered. “It's in everything.”  

•- Leah Clearwater -•

Reframing from snapping my teeth as he teased me, I stood in front of him with my hand placed over his chest.

“I see you….” Whispering the words to him? Or was it to his heart? Who really knew at this point.

I didn’t speak after that, it was like watching him play right now, the way he was concentrating. The glimmer in his Earth toned eyes, the way they crinkled when he smiled full heartedly. The way I could tell he wanted to love this time so deeply, that he wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting anything.

By the spirits…. My heart danced at his revelation… he could hear them? Was it just the sound of my voice and singing he was replaying? But something told me no… he had broken through.

“I’ve got you… take that leap… tell them… show them… you have come together finally.” It was happening… “Your heart and mind… they are opening up to hear the truth about our ancestors.” This was the evidence of his evolution.

I stepped into him; my hands moved to cup his face lifting my eyes over to the waterfall I saw then clearly. Dancing, singing, telling him the story again. This time aware that I wasn’t their voice.

“They are the sun and the moon, the water and the earth, they are the birds and the insects, they are the air we breathe. They are all around you, showing you the way, protecting you path, guiding you through whatever you call them in.”

My voice was low, soft, and welcoming. Speaking to the man whose eyes were closed but opened to this new reality all at once.

The light of the day was leaving us, telling me it was coming close to our time to leave. But I wasn’t going to rush him. I would wait until he heard everything he wanted.

= The End =

(Music: Peace and Power – Joanne Shenandoah)

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Three

Plumes of thick smoke billowed above the guard tower, blotting out the dusk sky with an ugly, brown smog. Burning red embers danced and flickered in the air, a single stray spark singeing Sasha’s right cheek.

Two girls stood, a dirt clod’s throw apart from each other. They stared each other down. The squeaky toy and Grime were already engaging in a battle of their own, leaving the two former friends alone on that tower. It did little to make the tension any less palpable.

Anne held her sword firmly in both hands, and the rage-filled scowl etched on her face made it clear she was itching for an excuse to ream the blade through her ex bestie’s chest cavity. The sheer hatred boiling inside her veins could not be overstated. Sasha, however, was a different story. She remained cool and kept both open palms raised, a sign of her peaceful intentions. Already a hard sell considering less than an hour ago, she’d ordered her flunkies to lock her and her family up in the dungeon after using and backstabbing her for the fifteen thousandth time.

She knew perfectly well what was at stake here. She knew the consequences not for them, but for this entire world if she failed. Convincing Anne to believe her now was going to be an uphill battle and the rematch she’d spent months prior fantasising about now seemed inevitable.

The irony surrounding both those things was not lost on her.

“Anne, I need you to listen to me!” she shouted over the hot gusts of wind whipping her face. “There’s something wrong with this Andrias guy! We should—”

Anne was having absolutely none of it. “You expect me to believe you?!” she asked her incredulously. “After all the lying and manipulating you’ve done?!” Sliding the sword back into its sheath, she turned her back on her in disgust. “Sorry, Sasha, but you’re out of chances.”

Why didn’t she take a photo? This would’ve been so much easier if she’d just thought to take a stupid photo! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Or maybe if she’d given Anne any reason to trust her.

The gates were now drawing close to slamming completely shut as Anne resumed pushing the lever. If Sasha squandered any more precious time, their fast-approaching army would be locked outside the city. She felt her twin swords weigh heavily on her hips; the tips of fingers twitched.

Whelp, in for a penny, in for a pound. She took a deep breath.

“I think Marcy’s in on it.”

“Yeah yeah!” scoffed Anne. “Blah blah bla—what?”

It was a hail mary that paid off. Anne froze in place and glared back at Sasha as if she’d caught her in the act of stomping on Domino’s tail.

“What... what did you say?” she asked, her voice fittingly ice-cold.

“Anne, look... I get it, okay?” Sasha gutsily stepped forward, closing the gap between them. They still had a glimmer of hope in ending this without a fight, so she knew she had to cobble her thoughts together and choose her next words carefully. “You don’t trust me a-and I don’t blame you, but I swear I’m telling you the truth. Grime and I found these—these weird pictures hidden in the throne room. They... one of them was showing the king with the music box. Th-then there was also something about Marcy’s family, I... I don’t know exactly what it all means...”

Amazing how they’d spent the past months going on wild adventures, escaping dozens of near-death experiences with the many monsters infesting the place, yet this was the one thing she struggled to make sound plausible. Of all the times for that natural charisma and confidence to falter. The way Anne was looking at her like she’d sprouted a third arm out her forehead told her it was going about as well as expected.

“All I know is we shouldn’t be giving either of them the Box. Not right now.” She finally lowered her hands back to her sides, adding, “Just come back to the throne room with me and I promise I’ll show you everything.”

A silence fell over the guard tower, punctuated only by the th-thunk of hundreds of armoured boots rising in the distance.

Now the ball was back in Anne’s court. She’d been rendered speechless by everything she’d been told. All she could do was stare the other girl square in the eyes. Dumbstruck.

Relief washed over Sasha as the tension appeared to simmer down, to the point she felt confident enough to move in closer, stopping when they were only feet apart. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers against her friend’s knuckles.

“Anne. Please.”

This snapped Anne out of her stupor. Reacting as if she’d been touched by something filthy, she broke her hand away from hers. Her expression turned on a dime from bewilderment to one of unadulterated hatred.

“... how dare you.”

Instead of withdrawing herself, Anne shoved Sasha away so violently it nearly sent her off her feet.

“I cannot believe I almost fell for that again! I mean, wow! Seriously, Sasha?! You’re gonna try and save your skin by throwing Marcy under the bus?! HOW DARE YOU!!”

Another jab to the breastplate silenced Sasha before she could respond. Anne was advancing on her dangerously, every step she took forcing her to back up. The only other instance she’d legit felt intimidated by her was back when she’d stood up to her at Toad Tower and even then, a secret part of Sasha was also impressed.

Now she’d touched upon what was already a frayed, raw nerve and it was scary.

“Let me tell ya something, Sash!” yelled Anne. A third strike nearly caught Sasha in the throat. “Marcy’s been more of a friend to me than you ever have! Marcy hasn’t lied to me! She hasn’t pushed me around! And she definitely hasn’t tried to kill my family! Unlike YOU!” She gripped the hilt of her sword, the menace in her eyes daring her to give her a reason. “She’s not only a real friend, she’s my best friend! And so help me, if you ever talk about her like that again, I will personally stick this thing right in your—”

The sounds of stomping boots and clattering armour had grown so loud they became impossible to ignore. Anne looked to her left to witness the sea of helmeted toads congregating outside the city walls.

How could she have let herself get distracted? They were coming. They were practically here.

“You were right; I am better off without you.” She hissed at her with so much venom it practically poured over her lips. “We both are.”

With that parting diss, Anne sprinted back to the lever. She had a job to do and she’d wasted way too much time and oxygen on this cretin already.

Sasha was left standing there stricken, feet glued to the floor. Anne might as well have slapped her across the face to achieve the same effect.

A determined scowl of her own soon spread across her features. You can’t say she hadn’t tried.

She drew the twin swords from her belt and assumed her dueling position.

“Anne, I can’t let you close that gate!”

“Oh yeah...?”

Anne roared, leaping through the air, sword unsheathed and aimed at Sasha’s head.

“JUST TRY TO STOP ME!”

Any swordsman worth their salt should know better than to leave themselves exposed like Anne just did. Sasha had a clear open to cut her in two instead of blocking her strike with both swords if she had so chosen.

To Anne’s credit, she wasn’t nearly as foolhardy as she had been when she first arrived in Amphibia. Right now, however, as they flew around the tower and did battle with the ferocity of dueling birds of prey, Sasha could plainly see it was Anne’s anger guiding her sword.

Anne was hostile, her moves unpredictable. Toad Tower didn’t have nothin’ on this. She wasn’t an exceptionally skilled fighter, neither of them realistically could be when you consider they’d both only first taken up the sword months ago. Still, there was underlying talent between them, and in Anne’s case, hers was currently being amplified by a seemingly bottomless well of passionate fury, which encouraged every last nerve to screw her courage to the sticking place.

She was actively going for the kill.

Narrowly dodging a plunge from her sword and, holding both her own in one hand, Sasha reached the other between Anne’s arms to grip her by the shoulder.

“Anne, stop this!” she begged through gritted teeth. “Marcy—”

“SHUT YOUR LYING MOUTH!!”

Anne freed herself by kicking Sasha in the chest with her socked foot. The collision of her unprotected sole against the metal breastplate hurt like all get out, but she wasn’t going to allow a trivial thing like pain stop her from taking a fatal swing at her opponent’s golden head.

Cat-like reflexes were what saved Sasha from getting scalped. If there was any hope in her mind that Anne couldn still be reasoned with, it was surely dashed now.

None of the paths leading out of this graceful dance of death were great. Simply keeping up her defenses and waging a war of attrition until Anne’s wild attacks inevitably tired her out wasn’t going to work. Whatever it was fueling Anne’s rampage, she didn’t look to be running out of it any time soon. Every parry, thrust and dodge drained a little bit more of Sasha’s stamina. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Frog knows she couldn’t rely on those toads to drag their warty butts through the stinking gate already!

Unless she was able to disarm Anne and fast, the only other option was to meet her viciousness in kind with expectedly grime results. Her training with Grime had taught her that every sword fight was already a potential life or death situation, regardless if you lacked the intent to harm, but however much they’d literally been at each other’s throats, Sasha was not prepared to have Anne’s blood on her hands.

An idea hit just as she arched her back away from a swing that easily could’ve taken her head off. Muscle tissue developed over years of cheerleader practice kicked into gear and in those vital seconds, Sasha flawlessly pulled off a handstand and kicked the sword out of Anne’s hand. The blade plummeted to the city streets below.

That should have been the end of it. With her opponent disarmed, Sasha felt the adrenaline rush sustaining her crash. Her lungs were on fire. Pink and Green suddenly felt ten times heavier in her damp palms. She truly couldn’t have gone on a moment longer.

Unfortunately, Anne was nowhere near spent. In an act of near superman-levels of varsity athleticism, slid behind Sasha, grabbed the hem of her cape and jumped over her head.

Before Sasha was able to register what in the ever-lovin’ Frog just happened, Anne had already tied the cape over her eyes. She barely even had a chance to flail like a dizzy ballerina when Anne’s fist smashed her in the face!

It was a blow powerful enough to send her spinning across the tower. She landed flat on her face, not an ounce of strength left in her muscles to pick herself back up. It was miraculous she didn’t black out then and there.

All that happened around her next was a mad din of noise. She made out the slam of what must have been Anne finally closing the gate. Then someone somewhere sounded a horn, followed by a voice she dreaded to hear more than anything else.

“Royal Newt Guard! Assemble!”

Oh Frog! They’d already freed the king! Anne must’ve sent the rest of her frog family or worse, Marcy to free him from his cell. She’d been so focused on stopping Anne, she didn’t even factor in what the others were doing.

Anne’s smug tone reached her ears, “End of the line, Sash.”

Sasha crawled up to the ledge on her belly. She tore the cape off her head, scattering it to the wind.

What she saw only confirmed her worst fears. Sprig standing atop a knocked out Grime on the roof below. Newt guards were rounding up her soldiers left and right; the tadpole’s giant robot was holding a bunch of them in its mechanical arms.

Then she saw her, a perky smile plastered on her face, shooting a ‘mission accomplished’ thumbs up at Anne.

“Oh no.”

[thatasianstereotype]

Damn, You’re Looking Fine.

To my utter delight, my crack writing Fuck. I’m Gay. got a good reception. I was not expecting to write more for this AU/pairing. But why not? I got some ideas and a computer to write them down on.

So this fic is the took-a-while-to-put-together sequel. It’s focused on the downfall of one certain Liar-la, Damian wooing Adrien with all the flair and romantics as his Chaton deserves, and Adrien being a blushing hot gay mess. 

P.S. Damian’s formal way of talking is an utter pain to write but hilarious to read.

P.S.S. Creative liberties were taken. Again. I just feel this needs to be mentioned. 

.

.

.

So Status Update:

Adrien and Damian are definitely dating (It is totally official. Told you ya boi got game).

Adrien still calls him Hot-And-Sexy from time to time much to his utter mortification (He can’t make himself stop. Please send help). And Dami gets amused by it every single time, that arrogant smug jerk.

Marinette still puts the fear of god in Damian and he is wary of her. She feels very proud about that. Adrien wants to facepalm.

Fuck Gabriel Agreste.  

And Lila Rossi is still a bitch.  

Adrien and Marinette were made aware about Damian’s alter ego —well mostly because he is utterly terrified of Marinette’s seemingly sweet (icy) smile she gave him when she politely asked how he obtained the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous and partly because of Adrien’s pouting kitten eyes. 

They truly were a pair to reckon with. 

.

“I am not sure why the Justice League dismissed your concerns and pleas for assistance. So I am taking the initiative. My name is Damian Wayne, the son of Batman and the current Robin and leader of the Teen Titans.”

He’s a superhero too?! And it’s Robin!!! One of his favorites!! Can you hear him internally squealing in excitement?

Adrien bit his lip to keep from fanboying right then and there. But a slight pink hue spread across his face. 

“You’re not lying.” Mari has gotten pretty good at deciphering through people’s bullshit. Whether it’s because she is now a Guardian or because Lila’s bitchiness made her a human lie-detector remains unknown.

Damian took it in stride. “I am not.”

“Paris is still our city.”

“I am only offering my assistance.” He won’t barge in on their superhero duties to the city. He has more class than that.

Mari didn’t have to look at Adrien to know his decision.

She smiled, a bright genuine smile. “Then we’re allies.” Before her eyes gained a spark of mischief and her smile turned teasing. “Hot-And-Sexy.” 

“Marinette!” Adrien immediately covered his blushing bright red face with both hands, utterly mortified. 

His sister was evil. E. V. I. L. And why is Damian smirking and looking so smug? Fuck! He even makes that look completely hot. Curse his Adonis genes. And curse his teenage hormones. 

He regrets introducing the two of them together. What a pair they make. Truly a couple of fur-midable terrors here. 

.

Back to the matter at hand, Marinette is able to ensure that Hawk Moth and Mayura will never be out again and another akuma won’t be made. She already made sure that the miraculous were better protected. 

Damian has enough evidence to put them behind bars for their crimes but Marinette wanted to go through it and make sure that Adrien won’t suffer the repercussions of having a villain for a dad so they held onto it until they figure out how best to protect their sunshine. 

.

Ah Shit. 

“Duusu? Where are you?” 

Did Gabriel lose the miraculous again? 

But when he looked into the last place he left it, he groaned. Fuck. His brooch was a fake again.

He knew he shouldn’t have made a miraculous fashion line and had replicas of the miraculous jewelries made. It was his most popular items to date. He has gotten lot of praises for getting the details just right and capturing the essence of each miraculous holder. No surprise there. He deals with them on a daily basis. He should get the details fucking right. 

It’s a wonder he only came up with a line because there was talk that he was becoming obsolete with no new ideas coming forth and if there is one thing that Gabriel Agreste isn’t, it is being obsolete. 

The line was just a joke, a parody of the heroes and villains if you will, but apparently people like it. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most popular obviously (he should’ve seen that coming to be honest). Hardly anyone buys Hawk Moth or Mayura and he is left with boxes of fake brooches. 

It is annoying.

Especially since he keeps fucking misplacing his miraculous. 

.

Adrien felt like he could be a Disney princess and just skip his way to school and sing for the world to hear. 

Now that the Butterfly miraculous were safely with Marinette, he doesn’t have to worry about another akuma. He could just die happy right now. His dad doesn’t have a hold over him anymore. He doesn’t have to put up with Liar-la anymore. But if they put up a fuss? Well, worst case scenario is he becomes a Dupain-Cheng. 

And he doesn’t mind. He’s already an honorary one. 

And if that somehow doesn’t work out (which he highly doubts), Damian offered to make him a Wayne. 

.

Françoise Dupont High School experienced a shock that morning. Specifically Ms. Bustier’s class. 

When they saw Adrien and Marinette walking in class with arms intertwined, laughing and smiling together. 

What the actual fuck?

Did they cross into an alternate universe? Marinette is a nasty bully and Adrien’s a pure sunshine child. Why would they be acting like they were the best of friends? 

Lila glowered darkly when she saw them walking towards the back and sitting at the same table. Didn’t Adrien care about what his father thinks? Doesn’t he want to still be able to go to school? 

She bit her lip and turned on the waterworks, her eyes close to bursting into tears. She made herself be the very picture of a pitiful woe-is-me victim as she cried out in a hurtful and betrayed tone. “Adrien, what are you doing with her? I thought we were close friends.” 

The sheep class instantly catered to Lila, pointing their fingers at the pair. 

Alya, her biggest supporter, led the charge as always. “Adrien! What do you have to say for yourself? How could you cheat on Lila like this? And with her?” 

Adrien narrowed his eyes at his former friend. Bitch, how dare she implies he was in an actual relationship and had feelings for that harlot. 

Wow. 

He has been spending way too much time around Damian. 

"Yeah, bro!” Kim said, raising his voice. “How could you do her dirty?” 

“Okay guys.” Adrien cut in. “I don’t know where you heard that but me and Lila are not dating. Like at all.” 

“Please.”Alya waved him off like he didn’t know what he was talking about (he was highly offended at the notion he didn’t know what his heart yearns for). “We all know you have feelings for Lila. You’re just in denial over them.”

Bitch, what?

Is no one catching onto his chaotic gay vibes here?  

And oh, how his fragile little heart was betrayed yet again when he saw Nino supporting his girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe the first friend he made all by himself was a part of their rabid pack. He deeply mourned the loss of such a great friend in the midst of that deceiving fox’s claws. 

“How many times do I need to say it?” At this point, Adrien was about to throw hands. “I don’t like Lila like that. I feel nothing but pure spite for her. Also, me and Marinette are not dating if anyone’s wondering. We’re just really good friends.”

“But Marinette’s a big bully.” Alix piped up, a hard edge in her voice. “She treats Lila horribly.”

“Marinette didn’t do anything to her. Rossi is lying.” 

“Oh Adrien.” It was Mylene of all people who spoke up. “Did Marinette get to you with her lies?” 

He was done. 

Completely and utterly done. 

He looked over at Marinette who shared his exasperation at the class’ antics. 

Adrien already said it before. But it bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily), that was the moment Ms. Bustier chose to step in the room and class started. 

When the teacher’s back was turned, Adrien pulled out his phone and proceeded to spend the rest of the time alternating between taking notes and texting with Damian. 

They were currently at the stage of their relationship to be sending animal pics and memes back and forth, with a few puns added from time to time. 

He really does have the perfect boyfriend. 

.

They cornered him after school. 

One: Rude. 

And two: Double rude. 

He was excited to meet Hot-And-Sexy (daMn iT! It’s Damian! Get it right brain) at the bakery and spending time with his two most favorite people in the world (Tom and Sabine don’t count because actual parents don’t have a ranking). 

His former friends were looking all concerned and everything because they somehow collectively came up with the idea that Marinette actually brainwashed him to believe Lila was evil. 

The fucking irony. 

They actually had the audacity to say that Marinette —sweet and honestly badass Marinette— was no good and just wanted to use Adrien to get ahead in the fashion industry (as if Mari actually needed him for that). He shouldn’t be around her. Lila was a much better person to keep as company. 

Adrien laughed in their faces and left. 

.

Onto happier events, Adrien was having a blast hanging out with Mari and Dami. His boyfriend (he still can’t believe he managed to score such a hottie!) fit right in the everything-that-matters siblings’ dynamics. 

They were in Mari’s room. Adrien was cuddling with Damian on her bed. And Mari was at her desk working on fashion designs. 

“So what’s your family like?” He played with Dami’s hair. It was so soft. Like what the fuck. It is so unfair. 

Damian thought about it for a few seconds. “My family is a bit...crazy. We drive each other insane every other day but at the end of the day, I have no doubt they have my back as I have theirs.” 

“You guys sound close.” 

“We were not always. We had an extensive amount of issues to work through before we actually bonded as a true family.” 

It was quiet for a minute until Damian casually said. “I would appreciate it a great deal if you can make time to visit Gotham for the summer.” 

Adrien stopped playing with his hair to look at him with wide incredulous eyes. “Summer’s only two months away.” 

“I am aware.” 

“You really want me to meet them? Isn’t it too early?” 

“I met yours the day we started dating.” 

True but....

Adrien averted his eyes. “Do you think your family will like me? You guys fight criminals and my dad’s a villain.” 

Damian put his hands over Adrien’s and gave them a light squeeze, making his Chaton look back at him. 

“My mother is a villain and I was raised as an assassin. Yet despite of that, my father accepted me. And I am fairly confident he will do the same to you. Mon amour, you have a pure and selfless heart. You are a better person than I am. I have no doubt that my family will love you from the start. 

“Are you being fur real right meow?” Adrien tried to lighten the atmosphere but he could feel his eyes tearing up. 

"I wouldn’t lie to mew.” 

He let out a small laugh, wiping his eyes. How did he ever get so lucky to land such an amazing guy? “You always know the purr-fect thing to say.” 

“We get it you’re in love. It’s amazing. Now stop it with the puns.” Mari rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated at these idiots who just ignored her and pulled out even more cat puns. “You have got to be kitten me.” 

Before she noticed what she said and groaned in faux despair. “Oh you two are so dead.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue playfully. “You can’t catch me. I got a handsome knight in shining armor to protect me.” 

Damian interlaced their fingers. “Always, mon amour. I’ll protect you from everything like your wicked father.”

“Does that make me the dragon here?” Mari joined in. “Cool. I can breathe fire and torch people. Too bad I can’t do that to a certain liar.” 

“Liar-la is totally the witch here.” Adrien said before thinking for a few seconds. “Does this make me the princess?” 

“Well, knights always have to save the damsel in distress.” Mari said. 

He frowned before crossing his arms indignantly. “Dami, I love you more than Plagg loves his stinky cheese, but I’m no damsel in distress.” 

Damian rolled his eyes. “Tt. Of course not. You can destroy things with a single touch. It would be not be in my best interests to downplay your abilities.”

Adrien relaxed and beamed a sunny smile. “Good. Remember that.” 

“Mon amour, I look for an equal as a partner, not some weak spoiled harlot that can not defend their self.” Damian placed a flower crown (that was just sitting on Marinette’s nightstand, must be one of her projects) on Adrien’s head. “Having said that I do believe you are a prince that deserves all the love and care in the world.” 

And oh my. 

Adrien can feel his face burning scarlet and his heart almost bursting at how sweet this incredible, conceited Adonis was. 

He was falling in love with Damian over and over again each time they meet up. 

“You deserve love too, Dami.” 

And sweet, caring Hot-And-Sexy (Ah, fuck it. He will never grow out of that) placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Oh dear, he didn’t know his face can burned any redder. 

He could almost hear Mari cooing in the background. 

And in case anyone was wondering, Tom and Sabine adores their everything-that-actually-matters son’s boyfriend. Damian Wayne seems like a responsible young lad. And he makes Adrien really happy which is a major plus. Anything that makes their son happy is good in their books. 

.

Lila was not at all pleased. 

Why was Adrien suddenly hanging out with Marinette? Yeah, he doesn’t buy into her lies but she was confident he will be lured into her charms. Why wouldn’t he be? She was young and way more beautiful than a baker’s daughter. He was supposed to be hers. 

She and Gabriel are going to have a talk about his rebellious son. 

Except when she arrived at the Agreste mansion, Gabriel was apparently too busy to see her. 

He was too occupied with searching through boxes of fake miraculous to find Duusu to bother with her. 

“I don’t have time for you.” 

“Excuse me?!” 

She was aghast. How dare he speak this way to his biggest supporter —well, besides Mayura and Nathalie. 

“You’re excused. Now leave the premises.”

Before the door shut in her face and she was left fuming, her face an unflattering angry red. 

.

Being Damian’s boyfriend, Adrien has come to learn that Damian does nothing by halves. Including asking him out on a date. And the actual dates themselves. 

Today as the sun fell down and night came about, Damian and Adrien were taking a stroll in the park. It was relaxing and it was nice. They talked about everything and anything. 

Adrien did not think Damian planned anything more. 

But he really shouldn’t underestimate the son of Batman. 

Because when the last of the sun’s rays were gone, Damian led him to a gazebo strung up with beautiful lights giving the whole place an ethereal feel. And with the bright moon out tonight, it looked like fairies dancing in the garden. 

He didn’t notice Damian pressed play on his phone and classical music filled the air. 

He definitely noticed Damian bowing with a flourished and holding out his hand with a charming smile. “May I have this dance, Chaton?”

Adrien would have to be a huge fool to say no. 

“I’ll loved to.” He placed his hand in Damian’s and let the Adonis lead him in a simple waltz. 

This was his life. 

His life was one big sappy romance novel. And you know what, he doesn’t care if it is. Between dealing with his shitty father and Liar-la, this kitty deserves some happiness. 

.

It was a scene from one of those Disney fairy tale movies Adrien used to watch as kid. The magic. The love. The romantics. He felt like Cinderella and wished this night will never end, that the clock will never strike midnight. He just wanted to stay in his Prince Charming’s arms forever. 

Under the starry night sky, the lovebirds danced to their heart’s content and when another song ended, Damian tilted his head down to place a tender kiss on Adrien’s lips. 

“I harbor a great deal of non-platonic affections for you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, Hot-And-Sexy.” 

.

What the fuck?!

Seriously. 

What the actual fuck? 

Lila was simply walking home after her disastrous meeting with Gabriel (She was still not over how he simply dismissed her like she was nothing. How dare he). 

When she saw them. 

Adrien and some guy (she’s pretty sure that was a guy) dancing in the park. She can feel that disgusting jealousy just burning in her veins, a cold anger thrumming underneath. 

Things were not at all going her way. 

First, Adrien is back to being friends with that Mari-whore. Then, Gabriel ignores her. Her. And now, she is seeing her Adrien in the arms of someone else. 

Oh this will just not do. 

She took out her phone from her pocket and snapped a couple of pictures, making sure Adrien can clearly be seen. She didn’t care too much about the other guy. He’s probably just another pretty airhead Adrien knew through his father. He’s not important. 

A cruel smirk appeared on her face at the thought of the perfect revenge. Adrien was going to have a rough time at school tomorrow. After all, he should’ve known better than to make a move against her. 

.

“Seriously?!”

“Wow.” 

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

“Yeah. Adrien is obviously gay. That’s the only explanation.” 

“....Maybe not? There could be another reason.”

Lila had watery eyes and a sad frown on her face but inside, she was fucking smiling like a Cheshire cat. She made sure to be at school early so she can show the class the picture of Adrien’s little date last night. Who —predictably— were shocked at their sunshine child being with a guy and made plans to confront him about his supposed sexuality. 

She glowed at the thought of her plan working. This will teach Adrien to know his place or become a social pariah like his little friend Marinette. 

“I thought Adrien had feelings for me.” Lila wiped the “tears” from her eyes. “How could he lead me on like this when he’s been gay all along?” 

Alya —predictably— comforted her. “I’m pretty sure he’s just confused. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”

“I’m sure that’s it.” 

The pair didn’t notice Juleka and Rose glaring at them. 

.

Damian was not at all pleased. 

He was rightfully angry. 

How dare that poor sense of fashion taste trollop tried to shame his mon amour for being gay. How dare she try to say he was simply confused and didn’t know any better. How dare she defame his reputation because he holds nothing but spite for her person. 

How dare she. 

As Adrien’s boyfriend and future husband, it is his duty to correct this travesty and defend his Chaton’s honor. 

.

When the Damian Wayne, youngest son of Bruce Wayne, appeared at Françoise Dupont High School, you know that people are gonna stare and talk. 

When he headed towards the courtyard where Adrien and Marinette were sitting at, boy are things going to get juicy. 

Lila and her followers who were sitting a bit father from the outcast pair were utterly confused. They could possibly get Adrien knowing such a super hot celebrity but for him to be on good terms with Marinette too? How inconceivable. Absolutely flabbergasted. 

“Hey Lila didn’t you tell us you knew him and his family?” Max brought up. 

“Uhhh....” Lila knew she dug herself in a corner here. She never thought that the Damian Wayne would ever visit here. At this second rate school. 

“Well, let’s go, girl!” Alya exclaimed. “I’m sure Damian just hasn’t seen you. That’s why he didn’t walk towards you.”

Before proceeding to practically drag Lila to where Damian was talking with Adrien and Marinette. 

Lila, on the other hand, was cursing out Alya in a bunch of different languages in her mind while trying to come up with something to dig herself out of this mess. If they talk to Wayne, the class will realize she was lying all along. 

She was not going to lose control of her kingdom like this —well, not without putting up a fight. 

But when they and the rest of their classmates walked close to the trio, they were shocked when they saw Marinette playfully punching Damian in the arm. 

“Okay. How the hell are you so close with Damian Wayne?” Straight off the bat, Alya was on the offense as she glared at Marinette as if it was Mari who did something wrong. 

Damian answered before the bluenette could. His face was impassive and his glare cold. “I’m Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s top model for her fashion business.”

What? 

Even Lila was taken aback at the news. She knew that goody two shoes likes designing but she didn’t think anybody would actual buy her stuff. She didn’t think a Wayne would like her stuff. 

She could feel her fists clenched. How dare Marinette steal the spotlight again. 

“I’m also Adrien’s boyfriend.” Damian continued casually as if that wasn’t a huge bombshell. 

Everyone’s minds screeched to a halt. 

They knew about the possibility of Adrien being gay since Lila showed him on going on a date with an unidentified but clearly male person yesterday. But they didn’t think there was actually something there. 

Lila could feel her anger clouding her mind. Adrien was supposed to be hers. He was her ticket to fame and fortune. 

“And what about Lila? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Alya put her hands on her hips. How could Damian just ignore someone he is close friends with but give Marinette all the attention? Lila deserves better than that.  

Damian was unamused. “I don’t know her.”

“Yeah, you do.” Alya ignored Lila’s gestures to stop talking. Lila was too shy about her achievements and she was going to have her amazing best friend’s back. “She’s the one who helped your family out multiple times.”

“She did not. And I am appalled that you believe I would know a harlot like her in the first place.” Damian’s face twisted with disgust as he glanced at Liar-la like she was a mere insect. “Please. I have class and dignity.”

“Take that back!” She screeched. “You are so rude.” 

“Are you honestly going to lecture me on my rudeness when you plebians are being hypocrites?”

“What? I’m not a hyprocrite.” 

“Lila Rossi is a pathetic liar who begs for attention like street dogs beg for scraps. She never once saved Jagged’s cat nor does she help out with green charities. Lastly, she is not on close terms with myself nor with my family.”

“No! You’re lying!”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ok then. Look her up on the internet. If she is as grand as you lot seem to think, she should have articles dedicated to her. Show me proof of her actions that isn’t your subpar blog and I will give you an exclusive.” 

Alya’s eyes gleamed at what should be an easy challenge. But when she pulled out her phone and typed Lila’s name and what she did in the search engine, her smile disappeared. 

She spent the next few minutes scouring the net for anything, any mention of a Lila Rossi that wasn’t on the LadyBlog. 

She found nothing. 

Lila Rossi was a fucking liar all along. And Alya and the rest of the class believed her. 

“We tried to warn you.” Marinette said in a soft voice. But anyone who knew her knew she was trying to hold back her laughter. 

“Marinette,” Rose cried out as she realized the class has been total jerks to the one person who always had their backs. “We were horribly wrong. Can you ever forgive us?”

She shrugged. “I forgive you. But this doesn’t mean we’re friends again. Because we’re not. Seeing how easily you drop me for that liar without even looking for any kind of proof hurts and I’m not eager to be friends again. Maybe in the future but not right now.”

“That’s goes ditto for me.” Adrien added his two cents. 

Their former friends classmates wore gloomy expressions, utterly devastated at ruining their friendship with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child. 

And with that, Adrien and Marinette left the courtyard, with light hearts and heads held high. 

Damian shot the class a razor sharp grin. “Well, it’s been nice to meet you.” 

Everyone knew he meant anything but. 

“I always knew teenagers were prone to be foolish imbeciles. But seeing the collective stupidity of you people today made me realize that the bar can in fact be lowered.” 

.

Adrien was fucking ecstatic. 

Elated. Overjoyed. Jubilant. Drunk on happiness. All the synonyms associated. 

Because Lila was finally exposed. The class realized what utter assholes they have been. His father will receive his due (soon according to Mari and Dami). 

He was happily humming a tune as he swung his and Damian’s intertwined hands back and forth. 

He was entirely grateful that Damian showed up to school today. Although he was a bit mean for Adrien’s taste. 

But oh man. Payback was so sweet. 

He smiled giddily. 

Mister Hot-And-Sexy definitely earned himself a kiss. 

Previous

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[gastricpierrot]

Title: Weight of a Memory 

Series: Genshin Impact

Relationship: Pre-canon Venti and Zhongli, mostly platonic,,

Rating: T 

Summary:

Barbatos did not care about anyone and anything, once. Not the world around him, not the people of the city who now considered him their patron god when he had only been there by chance, to deliver a gift that would now never be received. He had been nothing but a sliver of breeze, and he had not the ability to care.  

The one who taught him otherwise was gone.  

He was gone, and no matter how hard he tried—no matter what he did in his stead, in his name, he would not return.

Note:

Contains spoilers for Venti’s backstory

Read on AO3

________

Barbatos spent his first week of godhood in grief.  

He lived as a cruel joke of the fates, granted the title of god yet powerless in the face of his own loss.  

He’d lost him. His precious friend. The one who should’ve been hailed the hero instead of him. The one who should’ve lived to experience what he’d fought so hard for. And the one he, Barbatos, came to adore with all his life.  

He’s gone but Barbatos couldn’t let it sink in. Refused to let it sink in. Even when he had been the one to carry his lifeless, fragile body back to his people, requesting he’d be given a hero’s farewell. The grandest of all, filled with the songs and cheer he loved. Send his dear friend off, lain on a bed of his favourite cecilias.

Ask anyone in Old Mondstadt and they would tell you about how Barbatos would’ve then disappeared, presumably to meditate while he mulled over how he would like to lead the nation. He’d flown to the peaks of the highest mountain, found a cave there, and surrounded the area with a violent gale to bar anyone from finding him.  

In truth, Barbatos had hidden there, curled up. And slept.

He’d slept, in a dreamless slumber away from the fear of the newfound power surging through his being, away from the countless prayers that constantly bombarded his ears, and away from the emptiness the death of a beloved friend had left behind. He’d slept, and slept.

And then he’d awoken in a body not of his own.  

Heavy, it was heavy at first. His limbs too long, his proportions all unfamiliar. He sat up, stared at his arms and legs in bewilderment. Slender fingers, even calloused on the tips of his right hand, as though he’d spent many years playing an instrument. He felt all over his face, pinching warm, supple skin. Human-like. No, no , it hit him like a sudden storm. Barbatos scrambled to his feet and ran out, an unfamiliar pulse racing in his ears. No, this can’t be happening.  

He stumbled to the base of the mountain, his bare feet bruised raw and bleeding in his haste. It had not occurred to him that he could still fly, even in this form. He fell to his knees at the edge of the lake, leaned over the serene waters, trembling.  

And staring back at him, as he’d feared, was the face of a friend.  

No, it was all wrong. His eyes had been powder blue, not green. They once had so much determination, so much fire and passion. They were never so colourless. He had a smile that feared nothing, one that could make even someone like Barbatos feel invincible. He had always stood proud and true. He wasn’t...this. Whatever this atrocity that was reflected on the water surface, was. 

Imposter, the words danced in his head. Round and round and round, taunting, taunting. Imposter, imposter.  

Barbatos raked fistfuls of dirt, hurled them at the water with a scream that tore out of his throat. He held his head, prayed to wake up, wake up, turn back.  

That was the first time the Anemo Archon learnt how it must have felt like to drown.  

xXx

At the end of the day, a nameless bard was a nameless bard, and even with the grandeur of the festival that was held in his honour, he was still merely one of the many who had fallen in a long battle for freedom.  

“Blessed by Barbatos” was the name the people had decided on when they added him to the list carved onto the monument they erected as a memorial for all who had lost their lives to the war. Barbatos traced his fingertips across the letters, unable to decide if he wanted to laugh or cry at the irony. If he had truly been able to bless anyone, the winds would have made sure the arrows did not fly true, and his dearest friend would still be here.  

“Who’s there?”  

A voice cut through the air, far too loud in the midnight silence. Barbatos, startled, had turned around on instinct, forgetting that his robes did not hide how he bore a dead lad’s appearance.  

The man wore the plain clothes of a commoner, eyes wide at the sight that greeted him. “You—you’re that boy!”

Barbatos had fled with the wind then, but it was already too late. Rumours began spreading immediately after, spinning tales of the boy actually being the new Lord of Wind himself, and that the procession in his honour had been all but a test from him. Fellow bards who claimed to have known him in life insisted they always thought he was strange, different in ways difficult to explain. There had not been anything solid to hold on to, yet the people had readily embraced the narratives that suited their fancy.  

It terrified Barbatos at first, being absolutely unprepared to face the string of events that unfolded with such overwhelming succession. What would happen if he’d shown up to disprove something the people believed so vehemently? Would it be for the better, or would they reject him on the basis that he was only being jovial with his subjects? Would it, ultimately, taint this image of a precious friend that he’d somehow donned and failed to strip?  

Barbatos refused to risk that. It's fine if he himself were to be hated and deemed a liar, but not him, never him. Besides, doing this would keep his memory alive, wouldn’t it? Monuments would be built in his likeness, portraits of worship painted to be passed down generations to come. Even Barbatos would never have the chance to forget.  

He'd decided then, to play along with this elaborate lie. The rumours were all true, it had all been his first trial as the new Archon to the people of Mondstadt. He acted the way he believed he would’ve behaved, the way he would’ve presented to the crowd, all smiles and charisma. Made choices he would’ve wanted. Sang his songs, recited his poems and strummed the lyre with his melodies.  

Barbatos thus began to live as him, and the memory of him was to live on through Barbatos.  

xXx

Oddly enough, he found strength in his impersonation.

It gave him a purpose, wanting to bring glory to a friend who deserved it infinitely more than himself. Barbatos set out to tame the violent blizzards that surrounded the land, learnt to harness his powers to open paths to the world for the people of Mondstadt. He granted them the freedom they’d fought for. The freedom he wished he too, could’ve been here to experience in person.  

He declared he would not reign over Mondstadt as the other Archons do with their own territories, opting to leave the fates of humans wholly in their own hands. It had felt right; they had been the ones who’d fought the hardest to dethrone Decarabian, not he, and it was clear that control was the last thing the people wanted. These were humans who could carve their own futures, who did not require the words of a god nor a king to lead them forward.  

It was what he would’ve believed, too.

And it wasn’t like Barbatos was equipped to handle such responsibilities in the first place, for he’d been nothing more than a tiny elemental spirit merely a century old, his first real contact with humans beginning with his fateful meeting with the child who loved to sing and dreamt of flight. He harboured no particular affection for humans, except for one.  

How he wished he could show him flight now; what wouldn’t he give for a chance to soar with him to the ends of the earth and back.  

It was the knight with flaming red hair who’d volunteered to serve as his temporary advisor, teaching him about the systems humans adhered to in order to keep their societies functional. Barbatos trusted her; she had held his friend very dear herself, having fought side by side in the front lines of the war they helped wage. She was one with few words, never speaking more than she needed, never even questioning why Barbatos had chosen this appearance. Many a time he’d spotted her looking at him with regret, and many a time he had been at loss as to what to say.

What could he have said, really?  

Barbatos’ efforts to open the world for the exploration of Mondstadtians eventually led to plans in securing safe routes for trade; the knight was certain it was something the nation would require once it fully regained its footing after the years of strife. For that, good connections with neighbouring countries should best be formed.  

Closest to Mondstadt was a land by the name of Liyue, one under the jurisdiction of the Geo Archon, Morax. Barbatos knew close to nothing about him, and even the Ragnvindr knight could only tell him the barest minimum from what books had taught her. Morax had been around for thousands of years, he was one of the founders of the prosperous nation of Liyue, and he was also a god of war and contracts. That was all, but Barbatos knew that no matter what, that would have to do.  

Liyue was Mondstadt’s best bet for first diplomatic relations after Decarabian’s long reign of isolation.  

xXx

Barbatos left for Liyue alone, soon after sending off a message in the wind notifying his impending visit and receiving a response detailing the location where they would meet.  

He had not quite expected to see so many awaiting his arrival, though.  

Barbatos surveyed the group as he floated to the ground, noticing how none of them were mortal. Divine beasts observed his descent with solemn gazes, still as predators awaiting their chance to strike. They were old, Barbatos could tell from the aura enshrouding them, a cloak of energy he’d only recently been able to see himself after becoming an Archon.  

But amongst them was one older than the rest, and far more powerful.  

Morax took a form loosely resembling a young adult male human, the illusion of actually being one immediately broken by the horns branching out of his head. His eyes glowed amber in the night, his long, deep brown hair reaching his waist and almost blending with the material of his billowing robes. He stood with his hands behind his back, watching in silence.  

Barbatos thought he could’ve stood on the tension in the air even without the power of Anemo.  

He took a deep breath, mustering all his chipper as he landed on the grass and spread his arms. “Greetings, dear neighbours! It is I, Barbatos of Mondstadt!”

There was a poignant silence following his introduction, as though no one was quite certain how to react to him. Barbatos put two and two together, and growing nervous, ventured, “Am I in trouble?”

Morax was first to respond, upon cutting off one of his retainers’ retort with a subtle wave of his hand. “It certainly seemed that way in your message to us, my friend. Is everything alright?”

Ah, perhaps he could’ve been more specific when he’d requested for an audience with him. His message had been drafted under the strict supervision of the flame-haired knight, who had been sorely insistent on making it sound serious and official, for international diplomatic discussions were serious and official affairs indeed. But seeing that it had come across not quite the way they’d intended, it appeared they both still required some improvement in the communications department.  

“Yes, yes, everyone’s doing quite well where I come from,” Barbatos attempted a sheepish laugh, quietly grasping for a more solid way to dispel the awkwardness that’d already formed between them all. “Many thanks for the concern, Lord Morax, though I must apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“Think nothing of it, what matters is that all is well.” He spotted the way Morax visibly relaxed at his assurance and felt the guilt slowly setting in. His cryptic message truly must have worried him.  

“Actually, I’m here to have a chat over some drinks,” he tried picking things up from there, reaching for the satchel hidden beneath his robes and producing it with flourish. He's then immediately hit by the realization that it might not be quite enough for everyone present. “Oh, uhm, I didn’t expect to be greeted by so many of you...one is humbled...”

Morax must've sensed his growing dismay, offering, “Perhaps you would not mind my lone company, Lord Barbatos?”  

Barbatos thought this must be how it felt to receive a god’s grace. He readily agreed—though still careful to tone down the enthusiasm he showed, lest he offended the other immortals present. It was not a trouble he was prepared to go through at the moment. He stood back as Morax dismissed his retainers with a curt command before beckoning him to come along, saying he knew a good place to enjoy drinks.

Barbatos was led to a rather secluded spot atop a hill, but it was easy to see why Morax favoured it. It overlooked his beloved city, all bright lights and festivity even at this time of the night, with the sea stretching out from the harbour and beyond towards the horizon. The breeze at this altitude was refreshing, strong yet not too obstructive. And most of all, it was quiet, though perhaps also just a little lonesome.

Morax set the bottles of wine—which, he’d insisted on carrying all the way here himself despite Barbatos’ protests, adamant that it was simply Liyue tradition as a host to guests—on the stone table, and urged him to take a seat.  

Mondstadt prided itself for its wine, and it was only fitting that the finest of them would be brought as an offering to another god. What Barbatos had not been aware of, however, was that Mondstadt’s best brews were often on the strong side, and the flame-haired knight had, in hopes of rendering Morax slightly more agreeable so the Wind God might not have quite as much of a difficult time as she feared, slipped him two bottles of possibly what was, at the time, Mondstadt’s first ever knock-out wine.  

Barbatos had never drank before. He did not require the same sustenance humans did, and being an elemental spirit of air, anything he consumed would only have passed right through. Even so, he’d witnessed how wine could work almost like a spell, how once a person drank enough their troubles would seem to disappear. Some would laugh when they could not, some would cry, some would rant and some would fall into a peaceful sleep. He’d seen people bonding over drinks as much as they’d fought over them. He found it fearsome as much as he found it fascinating. The idea of losing oneself to alcoholic influences unnerved him, but surely there was also merit in the intoxication, otherwise why would humans so often willingly subject themselves to the experience over and over?  

Barbatos’ current vessel could hold human food, that much he knew. He had, in fact, developed quite a liking to the taste of apples, many a time offered to him by the people of Mondstadt who saw him whenever he visited the city, as the fruits were another of their prized produce.  

But Barbatos did not know how susceptible he was to the lulls of alcohol in his current form, nor did he know how to drink for the very first time.  

Morax, understandably, had not the slightest inkling that these were all part of their current circumstances. He simply produced a pair of marble goblets from his sleeves, and in his endless hospitality, poured Barbatos a full glass.

And so began their chat over wine, under the shine of moonlight.  

Morax asked about Mondstadt, having not visited there himself for a long time both due to commitments and also the violent climate plaguing the nation that was a hassle even to him. Barbatos told him what he knew, what he’d vehemently rehearsed before he made his journey here.  

Morax asked about Decarabian, and Barbatos told him of the nature of his reign and the efforts of the humans who had sought to usurp him and succeeded.  

Morax offered to share about Liyue and Barbatos was happy to listen, finding peace in his deep, stable voice. He drank from his glass as Morax recounted a tale that had to do with a lone island just a little way from Liyue’s pier, explaining how it actually used to be a mountain, a domain of a god long lost to time. Morax spoke, slowly and steadily, and Barbatos listened. And he drank.

He drank as he’d often seen humans do within the many rowdy taverns of Mondstadt. In large gulps, whole glasses at a time.  

Barbatos soon felt like he was floating, but it could’ve been just him losing a grip on his powers again.  

“Morax,” he began once Morax paused to sip his own drink, all honorifics forgotten to the sweet, sweet daze of fermented grape. He'd already lost track of what he’d been talking about. He sounded somewhat funny, too. He wanted to laugh. “How does it feel like to be a god for so long?”  

Morax did not seem particularly bothered by his demeanour, or at least he did not show it even if he was.  

“I’ve never thought about it,” he admitted, and with a solemnness that Barbatos thought was also rather amusing, he added, “I do not quite remember how it felt like not to be one.”

“Tell me, then, Morax,” Barbatos continued, leaning forward to rest his arm on the table, and then his head on his arm because he felt heavy now. Heavy and tired and his head was starting to spin a little. Like when he used to get caught in passing whirlwinds, he thought with a giggle. How he’d always hated it. “Why are gods not all-powerful, as the humans believe us to be?”

“Because if we were, then there would be no order.” Morax’s reply came almost too easily. As though it was simply a fact, a fact perhaps he knew too well himself. He went on to explain something about the importance of balance and that as gods in their world they had an unspoken duty to maintain it and how all of them are intricately intertwined with one another in that regard and a string of many other things that Barbatos could not find the urge to care about.  

He did not care about order. He did not care about anyone and anything, once. Not the world around him, not the people of the city who now considered him their patron god when he had only been there by chance, to deliver a gift that would now never be received. Barbatos had been nothing but a sliver of breeze, and he had not the ability to care.  

The one who taught him otherwise was gone.  

He was gone, and no matter how hard he tried—no matter what he did in his stead, in his name, he would not return.

Barbatos was tired. The weight clung to his being, though now mostly centred at the base of his stomach. Suffocating. He wanted to throw up. His body was too warm. The world suddenly felt too endless, infinite, and he was alone.  

He was gone, and not even the divine powers of a god could bring him back.

Was it the Gnosis that made him feel this much, this deeply, he wondered? A god’s heart, it was also called. If Barbatos ripped it from his chest, would it hurt a little less? If he threw it to the ground and crushed it under his feet, would he be free of this emptiness that haunted him?  

In his drunken state, Barbatos had failed to noticed two major things. One, he had reverted back to his original form at some point, to the little elf who had once been capable of being carried along even by the gentlest wind, hence why the world suddenly felt much too vast around him.  

And two, his vision had swum not because of the wine, not because the alcohol was slowly driving his senses haywire.

Barbatos had wept, but he did not know that he did.  

xXx

He woke up in a room that was definitely not the mountain cave he’d come to grow fond of.  

Not that it mattered because the first thing Barbatos registered was a massive headache he thought would split his skull in two. He groaned as he sank further into the sheets that surrounded him, half wondering if he’d somehow fallen on his head the previous night or if he’d done something to incite the Lord of Geo’s anger that’d ended with him getting beaten up. Barbatos could not remember, and the more he tried to think, the more it hurt.  

He must’ve fallen asleep again at some point, waking once more but this time to the faint scent of herbs. The pain had subsided to little more than a dull ache, and he reached for his temples only to find his arms shorter than he’d unconsciously grown used to.  

Barbatos sat up and did not know what was happening.  

Morax lounged on a padded chair across the room, glancing up from his book when he noticed his movement. “Oh, you’re awake.”

Barbatos could only stare, stupefied. What was the Geo Archon himself doing here?

“Try the tea if you’re still feeling terrible,” Morax gestured to the cup of steaming liquid on the bedstand, where the scent of herbs originated. “It works well for hangovers.”

Hangovers...?  

Oh. Oh, gods of Teyvat.  

“Lord Morax—I, I’m so sorry, I—” Barbatos scrambled to even get the words out, mortified that he’d acted so undignified in front of someone he’d barely just been acquainted with. While they were supposed to be sitting down for a diplomatic chat!!! He genuinely could not recall what had transpired the night before. He could only hope that whatever he'd said and done, it hadn’t been anything he’d regret.  

Still, the fact that he’d returned to this form raised enough of a cause for concern.  

“Do not worry, Barbatos,” Morax assured, calm as he stood up to approach him. “It’s safe here. Just rest for now.”

“No, I must’ve already troubled you enough, I should go,” Barbatos insisted, trying his hardest to untangle himself from the sheets but somehow only making it worse in his haste. He, in all seriousness, considered summoning a blast of wind to loosen everything in one go, but he fortunately succeeded in freeing himself before he could decide.  

And just as he’s about to quickly excuse himself and never show up in front of Morax again for the foreseeable future—he found the cup of steaming tea thrusted at his face.  

“Drink. It’ll calm you down,” Morax said, voice levelled and face composed despite his rather aggressive approach. Barbatos was now quite sure he’d done something to offend him while he was drunk.

“T-Thank you but I can’t hold anything in this form,” he explained, but soon realizing that maybe it’d be better if he would just entertain him and drink the tea? He had probably displeased him enough, the least he can do is not make it any worse by rejecting his current offers (demands??).  

Barbatos focused and tried to visualise the appearance he’d always taken ever since he became the Anemo Archon. He channelled his power and tried — and in what must be another joke of irony the fates casted upon him, he discovered he could not turn back.

Barbatos, dumbfounded by the turn of events and quite positively terrified of bearing the brunt of Morax’s wrath, once again did not know what to do.  

“Lord Morax, please forgive me.” He tugged at the edges of his hood, pulling it lower over his face so at least he wouldn’t have to see any blows coming. ‘Whatever I said and did yesterday, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it—”

“You’ll be able to drink this,” Morax persisted the moment he trailed off, still oddly fixated about the tea. “You’re an Archon now. Drink it while it’s still warm.”

Barbatos saw no other choice but to do as he said. He reached to hold the delicate cup with both hands, and once Morax let go, he carefully brought it to his mouth, and took a careful sip.

He could taste it, as subtle as it was, which was a good sign. Barbatos gave himself some seconds to see if his body retained the drink, and almost cried with relief when he confirmed that it did. He then drank a whole mouthful, feeling a wave of calm slowly wash over him as the herbs worked their magic. His body untensed, his pulse regained a slower, steadier rhythm. Even the last traces of his headache began to fade.  

With his mind slightly clearer now, Barbatos was starting to suspect that it was all a miserable misunderstanding.

“He must have been very dear to you.”

Barbatos glanced at Morax over the rim of the cup, not quite comprehending the sudden comment at first. Morax’s gaze was attentive, but Barbatos thought there was a slightest unexpected gentleness to it as well.

“You were mumbling about someone yesterday,” he explained after a lapse of silence between them. “Someone...who’s no longer here.”

“Ah.” Barbatos could hear himself scream on the inside. How could he have told all that to a person he’d literally just met!!! “So that’s what I said.”

Morax was once more silent for a beat, staring as though he had something to say but wasn’t quite sure if he should say it. Barbatos wondered if he would buy an excuse about his stomach hurting and thus him needing to attend to some private business. He wondered if he could just disappear from the face of the earth for the next century or two.

“A late friend once told me,” he flinched when Morax finally spoke again, “that humans have gods, while gods only have each other.”

“I’m not sure I follow...?” Barbatos blurted and immediately regretted it. Morax broke into a small frown, as though trying to sort something out himself.  

“You can stay here—until you feel well enough to go back,” he tried, again with something quite out of the blue. Barbatos blinked as he struggled to process whatever was happening. Was he... trying to comfort him? Had he been trying to comfort him all along?  

“Morax, really, I don’t think I should impose on you any more than I have,” Barbatos found the courage to say, feeling a little more stable now from the tea and the realization that Morax was more awkward than he thought he’d be. Then again, it was a rather unusual situation—caused by Barbatos himself, no less.

“You can leave whenever you’re ready,” Morax maintained, before glancing toward the window as though to gauge the light outside. “But I’m afraid I must excuse myself now, as I’ve matters to attend to in a bit.”

“Morax, wait!” Barbatos managed to call after him just as he made to leave. Morax turned to face him, eyebrows slightly raised but not looking particularly startled. Barbatos knew the least he could do is thank him, after everything. So he did.  

Morax listened, and then to Barbatos’ surprise, he smiled.  

“Let me know when you’d like to visit again,” he said, a genuine invitation Barbatos did not expect. “Take care in the meantime, Barbatos.”  

And with that, he was gone.  

xXx

Barbatos did leave eventually, but he did not return to Mondstadt.

He was trapped in his current form, for reasons he once again could not comprehend. It's almost laughable when he thought back about how desperately he’d once wanted to return to this, so he wouldn’t taint the memory of his dear friend by living as his impersonation. Now he’d finally succeeded, yet there was an unease he could not seem to shake off.  

Barbatos was riddled with a sense of dissociation, having taken his appearance throughout the entire time he’d spent as the God of Wind. In this form, he was not Barbatos the Anemo Archon, but rather simply another elemental of air, the most insignificant sliver of breeze.  

Barbatos also could not return to Mondstadt , because how was he supposed to face the flame-haired knight after all that ? She would be absolutely livid if she knew he’d essentially done nothing but gotten intoxicated and passed out while he was in Liyue. A message about his temporary absence would have to do for now.  

Then again, Barbatos hadn’t the full intention to go and make any negotiations to begin with. When the time comes, the people of Mondstadt would no doubt find their own way there, and they would form their own agreements and contracts—they did not need his interference. No, Barbatos had gone mostly as a sort of insurance, to see if Liyue would be welcoming to his people, and to see if the Geo Archon was someone they should be involved with.  

Barbatos thought Morax was rather a strange one. He had half expected him to be brutish, loud and overbearing, considering he also bore the title of a war god. Morax had instead not only been an amiable host, but also surprisingly polite and soft spoken. He carried a sort of calm around his being, unruffled in the face of most usual circumstances. If Morax was a god who had stained entire lands with blood, it did not show.  

Barbatos found himself mulling over Morax’s words as he drifted through the endless fields between Liyue and Mondstadt. The humans have gods, while gods only have each other. Humans relied on gods, and gods only had each other to rely on. It sounded like a very generalized statement at first; Barbatos certainly didn’t think it was all that true. Barbatos himself had only gotten this far owing to the guidance of the people of Mondstadt. Surely all affairs within a domain could not be settled by gods alone; the humans they rule over would never allow it for long.

But Barbatos supposed it made sense too, in a way. Time flowed differently for those who were immortal and those who were not. A hundred years was nothing to them, but to humans that was their entire lifespan. Barbatos had not really noticed, but even his knight friend looked different from when they first met, now that he thought about it. Her features rougher, her stature taller and more solid, her flame-red hair losing just a little of its vibrancy. Barbatos had not been counting the sunrises and sunsets, but it had in fact been at least a decade since he was made a god.  

Time was passing and it was a frightening realization to come to. Soon the people he knew would come to pass themselves, and he would truly be nothing but another figment of history. Barbatos would have to bear the memory of him alone, for who else could remember him if not he, who would outlive mortals many times over? Yet in this desperation to never forget, Barbatos found that certain aspects of him were already starting to grow fuzzy in his mind.  

Barbatos had taken his appearance for the past ten or so years, but he had never been able to replicate his voice. His voice; rich, lulling and infinitely wonderful. If the lush fields and full blooms of spring could sing, they would envy what he had. This, Barbatos knew for a fact. But he was already forgetting how exactly it had sounded. He remembered even the sweet lullabies he used to sing to him, even the playful tunes and verses he’d compose on the spot when things grew tense within their ragtag group of four—but when Barbatos sang them now, he could only hear his own voice overlapping his.  

Then in appearance at the very least, he thought, he mustn’t forget. Barbatos made his umpteenth attempt to transform, to adopt his likeness as he’d once done unconsciously. He was already regaining some control of his powers, he can do this. He squeezed his eyes close, took a deep, shaky breath. Concentrate. He can do this. He must do this.  

What surfaced was the image of him with arrows piercing his chest, his tunic stained red with blood—and nothing changed in the end.

Gods only had each other.  

Barbatos summoned the wind, and sought the only other god he knew.  

…  

Morax was true to his word, arranging for his visit soon after he received his message.  

This time, however, Barbatos was to meet him in Celestia, as he was in the middle of something he could not step away from there. Barbatos had insisted it wasn’t anything urgent and that it wasn’t a matter Morax should deliberately trouble himself over if he had other things to attend to, and Morax had in turn assured that it was alright and that he should be almost done by the time Barbatos visited.  

Barbatos had already regretted asking at that point, but he also did not wish to disrespect Morax’s generosity. So he waited until dawn broke on the day they were set to meet, and feeling the Gnosis thrum within his chest, he made his way to the island of the gods.

The heavy gates of Celestia parted easily for him, revealing a world within that was too vast to seem like something that could’ve fitted on the floating piece of land visible from below. Barbatos entered a world where the divine made their exclusive residence, each owning an area they claimed as their domain. Teyvat, although hailed the Seven as the most powerful for their influence over the seven main elements, was not short on minor deities. Celestia could probably have spanned across the sky over the entire region and more.  

Barbatos attracted some looks almost immediately from the group that was mulling about by the entrance; after all, he seemed far from godly in his current form. He tried to ignore them, instead digging into his pocket for the pebble Morax had sent to guide him to his residence in the heavenly realm. It briefly glowed yellow once brought into the open, and then as though by some sort of magnetic pull, it shot eastward without a warning, and Barbatos had no choice but to give chase.

Morax’s residence in Celestia was humble compared to the extravagance of some Barbatos managed to spot in passing. It resembled a shrine of sorts; a set of stone steps leading towards a wooden gateway that served as its entrance, the privacy of the garden inside protected by bamboo partitions built in place of walls. Barbatos drifted in and towards the modest abode beyond the garden, feeling the air shift just before he heard Morax speak.  

“You’re here, Barbatos.”

Barbatos did not see him anywhere, but he sensed that he was within the house made of intricately carved stone, harnessing his power for...something. “I am, but perhaps I should really return another day...?”  

“It is fine, I should be done in a few minutes,” Morax assured, and Barbatos abruptly noticed how his voice sounded slightly deeper, with a reverberation to it that gave it a resemblance to a growl. He thought of Morax’s horns, and made a guess. “Please, do come in.”

Barbatos must admit that his curiosity got the better of him this time. He pushed at the door, and slipped through the opening.

Morax was a dragon, though not one whose appearance Barbatos was familiar with. The dragons that sometimes soared through Mondstadt’s skies were often winged, had powerful legs that would let them roam the land on foot if they wished. Morax was scaled as they were, had a skull structure that was similar though perhaps slightly more angular. But the similarities ended there. His body was more serpentine, slender and longer but wingless, and he had claws instead of legs.  

Morax was curled up over a circular enchantment on the floor, surrounded entirely by a barrier of golden light. He regarded Barbatos as he flew closer, and even when he spoke his jaw did not move.  

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get you some tea once I finish up here.”

“No, no, please don’t trouble yourself.” Barbatos could hardly get the words out, awed by the sight of a god who actually resembled a god. Composed, regal and mythic. He averted his gaze, fiddling with the hood of his cloak. “I’m sorry this is so sudden, Morax. I-It really isn’t anything important but I just don’t know what else I can do and—”

“It must be something important if it is bothering you enough to come see me,” Morax pointed out, and Barbatos could only swallow thickly, words stuck in his throat. “Speak, Barbatos. If you think it is something I can help you with, then I will see what I can do.”

“I—” Barbatos worked to push his hesitation down. He’d already come this far. “Please teach me how to change forms.”

Morax did not respond immediately, as though silently contemplating his reply. Barbatos tensed, because Morax knew. He knew, though perhaps not enough, still he knew about him. He could probably make a guess, Barbatos hadn’t exactly been vague about it in front of him courtesy of the cursed alcohol. He braced himself for the questions, the judgement—but even so, he decided, he would not leave until he found a way to turn back.  

“To take on another appearance,” Morax began, the wall of light around him shimmering before disappearing altogether, “one must first have a strong sense of self. You can say it’s our body’s way of self-preservation, so that we’ll always have a default form to return to if anything goes wrong during the transformation process.”

Barbatos watched him demonstrate, a glow of light enveloping his body as his proportions shifted, condensed—and he re-emerged in the form of the young man he took when Barbatos first met him.  

“If you’re struggling to transform, it could mean that you’re wavering, Barbatos,” Morax continued, stepping out of his enchantment. “Why are you so desperate to change?”

“Because if I don’t,” Barbatos took a breath, forced the rest of the sentence out, “I’m afraid I might one day forget.”

Because if I forgot, there would be no one else to remember him for who he really was, in time.

Morax studied him, silent as he walked over and, with a flutter of his robes, sat down on the floor to be eye level with him.  

“There are more ways to remember someone than simply by appearance,” he stated, as if Barbatos did not know.  

He'd tried everything he could’ve thought of. He’d emulated his personality, his habits and quirks, even his preferences. He'd committed each and every one of his songs to memory, practiced endlessly on the lyre so he could play the way he did, so his art would still live even when he did not.  

Barbatos wasn’t sure why he’d taken Morax’s simple words so much to heart. It was a statement of a fact, one he knew very well—otherwise why would he have tried so damned hard for so long?  

He knew, deep down, that despite all that, despite everything he’d done, it hadn’t been enough.  

“Barbatos.” Morax’s voice was soft when he called to him, hardly even a whisper. Barbatos found it difficult to breathe, the weight he’d been carrying on his being suddenly crushing down on him. He could not find the courage to look at him, but Morax waited, and waited until he finally did.  

There was a gentle smile upon his lips when Barbatos met his gaze, a comfort that strangely brought only pain. “Won’t you tell me a little about him?”

Barbatos was not prepared for this, was not prepared to talk. “I...I don’t know where to start.”

“That’s alright, even the first thing that comes to mind would do,” Morax assured, showing no signs of retreating even when confronted with Barbatos’ hesitation. “Tell me a little about him, so I may remember him with you.”

It’s only then that it dawned him, that Barbatos had in fact, rarely ever shared about who he was as a person. He’d sung his songs, praised his deeds—but there were the more personal aspects of him which Barbatos had held extremely close to his heart, in some sort of unspoken pact with the knight where they would be the only ones to shelter those pieces of him. Barbatos had never disclosed how he would sometimes perform on the streets for days on end, skimming on food and saving his coins, just so he could afford the smallest bundle of cecilias from the florist in the market.  

Or how he would hum a certain melody whenever he combed his hair out and braided them again.  

Or how, despite his normally demure temperament, he could have a temper that would frighten even Barbatos when wronged, but would fade just as suddenly as it’d flared.

They surfaced, one by one, after the many years Barbatos had kept them tucked away in a place he thought was safe. He recounted them now, each recollection so precious—yet so, very, heavy. He had subconsciously avoided this all along, for he knew the weight of the memories would easily break his newfound heart.  

He missed him. It was a truth that he’d constantly refused to face. He was gone, yet still, he yearned terribly to see him once more.

Morax listened in silence, attentive even when Barbatos’ breath hitched and his voice trembled. He listened even when the words began tumbling out on their own volition, words of self-loathing and regret and of the indescribable exhaustion of a lonely god.  

Barbatos spoke, and Morax only listened in silence.  

xXx

Barbatos stayed with Morax for a few days more, not quite able to find the right timing to leave—but also because he’d eased into the safety of the Geo Archon’s company.

They exchanged many stories during their time together, Morax encouraging him to share his by offering an abundance of his own. He told him of a time long before Liyue, an age where dragons and elementals were the majority who roamed the world. He told him of wastelands now reclaimed by greenery, of deserts now reclaimed by the seas. He spoke of tales that would’ve been lost completely to the passage of time, had they not been ingrained into his memory. 

And Morax had a very good memory indeed.  

Barbatos had no such high tales to share; he had yet to live enough to experience the world to that extent. He was, however, instead reminded of simpler days of his own in contrast to Morax’s snippets of old history. The days spent within a fortress of storms, of human games and archery practice, of picking pockets and street performances.  

Barbatos remembered being called a different name then. Venti. He had called him Venti.  

How could it have ever slipped his mind.  

Morax proposed the idea the day before Barbatos finally decided he should be leaving. What if they arranged for all Seven to gather regularly? They could share some drinks and simply have a chat, as Barbatos had done the first time he’d visited Liyue. Morax wouldn’t mind being the regular host, but if the other Archons were willing, it would be nice if they could each have their turn. Maybe through this, they would be able to improve international relations within Teyvat, a collective step in rebuilding the continent after the destruction following the Archon War. Maybe through this, they would be able to usher in a new age of peace.  

Maybe through this, they could all be friends.  

It’s unexpected, hearing the concept of “friends” proposed from Morax’s own mouth. He certainly seemed more of the type who would only take acquaintances, keeping his contacts at an arm’s length so he could assess their worth and utilize them as he saw fit. It was rather naive too, Barbatos couldn’t help but think, to believe all seven of them had such an easy chance of getting along when they no doubt had personalities as different as the sky and earth.  

Still, he supposed it was a little endearing; for all his stoic, pokerfaced glory, Morax also had this sentimental side to him.  

Barbatos himself saw no reason not to try; he had taken his own leap once too and that worked out for the better. He reasoned that Morax would probably need him around as well, to diffuse some tough situations that might stem from the sheer difficulty of reading him at times. He'll bring the wine, he’d volunteered, promising that he’ll have learnt to be a better drunk by the time they gather. They would each have their share of alcohol, and in true Mondstadtian fashion, perhaps they would end each night with just a little more mutual understanding and better bonds.

Morax seemed to like the sound of it.  

And with that, along with an insistent invitation for Morax to be the one who bothers him next, Barbatos descended back upon the earth.

There was a field he was rather familiar with on his way back to Mondstadt; it's a place he frequented to practice playing the lyre in solitude. It was currently a time when dandelions are in full bloom, a carpet of yellow flowers swaying with the breeze, their scent pleasant and nostalgic. Barbatos even spotted a group of slimes hopping around not far off, tiny animals darting out from the cover of tall grass and into the nearby forest.  

He halted in his flight, and decided that the lecture from the flame-haired knight could wait a little longer.  

He drifted to his usual spot by the edge of the field, under a large tree older than even himself. He settled on the ground, took a deep breath as he spent a moment to gaze at the sight before him.  

Thousands of dandelion seeds floated in the air, dancing to the whims of the wind in the fading light of the sun.  

Warmth flowed through his body as he thought of him, and how he would still insist that cecilias were more beautiful than this.

Barbatos smiled as he plucked a new string of notes on his lyre, and for the first time, sang a song of his own.

[lordmomohismomoness]

Plot Oriented Stories

So let us melt and make no noise by LittleLostStar

Rated M 69K words WIP last updated Jan 2021

When a mission to the South Pole goes awry, Prince Zuko awakens in the home of a healer named Katara and finds his heart is damaged and his bending has vanished. His quest to find the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe is his destiny-- the one chance to regain his honour and return home. But as time passes and Zuko's heart heals, it becomes clear that Katara is protecting an ancient secret of her own, and that both of their destinies are entwined in ways never before thought possible.

The Prince's Choice by FrostedGemstone22

Rated T 206K words Completed 2018

Katara is 18 and the Southern Water Tribe has held an uneasy allegiance with the Fire Nation for the last 100 or so years. When Katara's tribe goes through a food shortage, Katara takes it upon herself to make sure they survive. She agrees to enter a competition where the young Prince Zuko will choose a wife out of 35 women. Katara promises herself she only has to last a day until a truce she can't ignore is offered, and now Katara is in it for the long haul. A Zutara! Selection AU. More couple tags to be added as they appear.

Note: The first few chapters are not up to my standard of grammar, however the writer did enlist a beta reader shortly into the fic which made it much better.

Once Around The Sun by Eleventy7

Rated T 147K words Completed 2014

Later, Katara can see how it all fell apart. Azula in her cell, growing roses; Zuko surrounded by enemies, slowly dying; their friends in the Earth Kingdom, safely escaping. And herself at the centre of it, saving lives and breaking promises. Set after finale, eventual Zutara.

Warning: Tearbender

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People by Cyrene

Rated T 30K words WIP Last updated Nov 2020

A bunch of weirdos who frequent his uncle's diner invite "Lee" to play some stupid game with them called "Paragons of the Elements." Yeah, that's not happening, especially since one of them -- Katara -- already thinks he's a jerk. Except then it does, and he can't really get out of it. Then he doesn't WANT to. But can he really make friends with people who know nothing about who he really is? Is it possible for him to be the person they think he is, or will he always be weighed down by his past?

Long story short (too late!) this is the "Gaang plays D&D AU, with a healthy side of Zutara" you didn't know you needed, and Zuko's being a killjoy about it. It takes place in a modern world, with all bending or supernatural stuff relegated to the gaming table. Relationships are tagged by what occurs in each individual story, not the series as a whole.

Oceans Away by PearofAnons

Rated M 56K words WIP Last updated Dec 2020

The irony was not lost on him. The moment his wife told him he did not have her heart was the very moment he realized she had long captured his.

or

In their world many would mistaken their tale as some grand love story, but if you were to ask those close to them, they would say it was really quite simple. Family, duty, honor. With these two stubborn fools, love wasn't originally part of the plan, it just grew quietly along the way.

Contains Smut

His Majesty Prefers Blue by Shamelessliar

Rated M 212K words Completed 2012

A year after the war's end, the gaang returns to the Fire Nation for a week of diplomatic meetings. There, they hear rumors about a vigilante who wears a blue mask and Katara finds herself digging deeper into his identity and motives. Blue/Zutara Lemons

Trigger warnings: rape, torture (1 scene)

Subterfuge by Smylealong

Rated M 113K words WIP last updated Oct 2020

Thirty years ago, the Fire Nation attacked, throwing the world off balance. Katara entered the Fire Nation war camp at Ba Sing Se as a healer, prepared to do whatever it takes to play her part in stopping the war. Getting kidnapped with the Fire Prince and falling in love with him were not parts of the plan. AU. Zutara.

Trigger Warnings: Sexual Assault, Incest, Graphic Depiction of Violence

Call Me Katto by ShamelessLiar

Rated M 272K words Completed 2015

The Avatar awakens two years late, when only a token resistance still struggles against the Fire Nation. Katara disguises herself as a boy to follow Sokka into war. Not only must she hide her gender from her comrades, she has to help the Avatar while also dodging the creepy prince who’s taken such an intense interest in her. AU for timing.

Cursed Kiss by AlwaysZutarian

Rated E 136K words WIP Last Updated Feb 2021

Cursed to live with the body of a fearsome beast, Zuko hid from a cruel world that would not hesitate to destroy him, consumed with rage for those who had betrayed him, resigned to a lifetime of solitude. But then a ray of hope came in the form of a beautiful, blue-eyed woman. Could she look beyond his physical appearance and break his curse? Or would he forever remain alone?

The Dragon and the Siren (AO3) The Dragon and the Siren (ff.net) by CultofStrawberry

Rated M/T 147K+ words Completed 2012

Zutara, Hades x Persephone inspired. In a land of gods and spirits, Katara is the daughter of the Sea, and Zuko is the powerful and reclusive God of the Fire Realms. Zuko has been pining for her for too long... so he finally takes action.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hurricane (Part 2)

Part 1

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.7k Warning: Nothing outright. The story is rated T+.  Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together. 

Author’s Note: This was inspired by an anon prompt request for “protection”. I hope I did it justice! This is a multi part story.

________________________________________ 

It took the group of friends thirty minutes to gather all their things and pack it all into Ethan’s borrowed sedan. They’d all be lying if they said they weren’t terrified of crashing the luxury vehicle or leaving a scuff on the pristine black leather seats. Elijah’s mind raced with all the expletives and face contortions Dr. Ramsey could throw their way if something befell his property. 

With four hours and twenty six minutes until high tide Becca programmed the navigation for Naveen’s river-house and the friends carefully made their way through the torrential start of the storm and out of the city. 

The ride was relatively silent as they drove with caution. It wasn’t until they made it onto the near-empty highway that someone spoke the looming question in the air. 

“Are you and Ramsey back together?” Sienna asked from the backseat.  

Becca’s eyes widened. 

In the commotion she didn’t even think of what this excursion would look like to those outside of her and Ethan’s secluded little bubble. Becca herself didn’t even know what they were. They spent time together outside of work, sure. But does that mean they’ve been unknowingly dating for the last few months? 

What she did know was that Ethan Ramsey and Rebecca Lao were not officially dating, not now and never were.  

Becca looked straight ahead at the disappearing road before them, mulling over her next words carefully. 

“We were never together,” she dismissed so eloquently and added for good measure, “And we’re friends.” She habitually bit her lip in hopes they’d stop the inquisition. 

“Bec, he gave you his car.” Elijah piped in, his grip on the door handle loosening a bit as his thoughts were moved from the impending doom. 

Elijah and Sienna were the only two friends who had an inkling of what had perspired between Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Lao - they did in fact catch the former sneaking out of the apartment one morning last year. Ever since the two kept Becca’s secret and gleefully watched the two doctor’s interactions with a new and keen interest.  

Becca was quick to retort, “How else were we supposed to get to Naveen’s?”  

Sienna tried to stifle a giggle at how uncomfortable her best friend had become, “He also asked you to stay with him at Naveen’s.”

“He also said you guys could come. He’s concerned, is all.” Becca explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. To her this situation wasn’t as weird as they were making it out to be. If Ethan and Naveen were in a pinch of course she would lend a helping hand. The two older diagnosticians had become staples in her life over the last year and a half, and although she knew hospital politics meant most colleagues couldn’t comprehend their bond she was hoping her friends would. With a definitive nod she added, “Friends helping friends in their time of need.” 

Elijah egged once more, “So there’s nothing between you?” 

“We’re not dating, no.” 

What was between us? Becca thought to herself. 

Mutual respect? Definitely. An unconditional affinity for the other? Surely. Was it time to finally define their intentions? The jury’s still out. 

With a mischievous gleam in her eye Sienna knew this was going to be a very informative and eye-opening experience for everyone. 

***

After an hours drive and missing the hidden driveway nearly twice the group of friends finally made it to Naveen’s cabin. The rain was still consistently falling in large punishing splatters and the sky above loomed darker than before. The river was higher than she’d ever seen it, yet still so calm and accepting of the bullets colliding at its surface. 

Sienna wheeled Elijah into the foyer with nearly all of their bags while Becca disarmed the alarm with the code Ethan texted her. They removed all their wet clothes, leaving them on the designated hooks and shoe rack before dividing up the goods. 

“How many bedrooms are there?” the spritely doctor asked as she made sure all the food she packed was accounted for.  

“Three,” Becca explained, “Two down here. This one’s Naveen’s new room if I remember correctly.” She pointed to a door on the back far right wall just before the double doors leading to the den. “Then one more upstairs.”

She recalled how the old doctor had asked her and Landry to move his belongings from the upstairs master bedroom down to that one so it would be easier for him to move around. Back when he thought the phage therapy was futile and that he was dying.   

“Perfect,” Sienna squeaked. “Room for Naveen. One for me and Elijah. And one for you and Ramsey.” 

Becca scoffed at the thought of her and Ethan sharing the same bed with so many other eyes around. It took a while for Ethan to finally let her share his bed once again after giving her space in his life in the form of his second bedroom whenever she stayed over to work on cases or just enjoy his company. Events from the past year rolled through her mind at rapid speed, recalling all the times they’d lean on one another mentally, hold one another physically, and then Ethan would push her away emotionally. They were teetering on a fine line and Becca didn’t know if it was in her best interest to fall or continue trekking at a stagnant pace.  

“He’ll probably sleep on the couch in the den,” she told her friends in earnest.  

Sienna smirked knowingly, completely bemused by the whole conversation. There was simply no reason her best friend should know so much about the chief of medicine’s home or her boss’s habits if there wasn’t anything between them. Naveen is Ramsey’s most trusted friend and not even months of doctoring together could bring these intimately behavioral facts to light. 

The girls unpacked the food in Naveen’s narrow kitchen glad they brought more than necessary, odds are they would be held up here for a while. Meanwhile Elijah sat in the living room near the big bay window reading one of the comics he brought with him, the staging a bit too close together for him to move freely throughout the cabin. 

“Just out of curiosity,” Elijah called out, “wouldn’t the river flood too?”  

“Huh. I didn’t think about that,” Becca uttered, the wheels in her head now turning. Rivers do flood, lakes don’t. The river is probably connected to the bay… So why had they sought shelter here? She quickly stopped her thoughts and shrugged, “Seems like a question for Dr. Banerji though.” 

Sienna noticed the permanent furrow of worry between Elijah's eyes. Trying to console her friend she added, “It’s got to be safe if they’re taking refuge here.” 

Becca folded up the empty reusable bags that carted their food and moved to put them with their luggage still idling waiting by the front door. “Ethan definitely doesn’t want Naveen anywhere near a natural disaster after last year’s events.”  

“Doesn’t want you deep in one either.” Sienna tried desperately to hide the smile from her face. 

Elijah chuckled, “Becca is a natural disaster.” 

“A her-icane,” Sienna added with wit.  

Elijah continued, “Completely disobedient. Follows whims.”  

Sienna was so giddy in her addition of, “Breaking Ramsey down, wearing him thin.” 

“Hey!” Becca scolded them playfully. She knew they didn’t mean any harm and were only quoting one of her favorite songs back to her. However the irony wasn’t lost on her. 

“We know you don’t mean to be chaotic sometimes.” Sienna bounded over to her closest friend and wrapped her tiny arms around Becca. “We love you anyway.”

***  

An hour later they saw bright lights breaking through the fog and heard car doors slamming in the distance. Becca opened the front door to a soaking wet Naveen walking in first with a rambunctious Jenner on the lead. Ethan wasn’t far behind carrying his overnight bag and two coolers of food. 

“How was the drive?” she asked. 

“Uneventful, luckily,” Naveen responded with his signature fatherly smile. 

Sienna stood up and greeted, “Hi, Dr. Banerji. Lovely home you have here.” 

Ethan slipped off his coat and shoes and bounded into the kitchen to drop the things off without saying a word. 

“Please, Sienna, call me Naveen. You’re in my home, no need for formalities outside the hospital. That goes for you as well Elijah.”  

The smile that spread across the young doctor’s face was that of a kid who had just met his childhood hero. “I’m honored.” 

Naveen turned back to Becc, “Rebecca can you grab a towel from my bathroom please. Don’t want a wet dog running around.”  

“Oh, of course!” She scurried off to the other side of the house and grabbed the first towel she found in the downstairs en-suite. When she came back Jenner tried to jump at Becca but Naveen held the lead tightly, his glasses still clouded with raindrops. 

Becca grabbed the lead and motioned, “Go ahead, I’ll dry him off.” 

He removed the spectacles and smiled brightly at the woman he considered a daughter, “I’ll go help Ethan.”  

Beca threw the towel over Jenner’s wiggly body and knelt down to begin to dry him off. It was a feat. The pup was so excited to see her he kept jumping up and licking whatever part of her he could get at. The antics sent Becca into a fit of sing-song laughter. 

“I missed you too buddy,” she cooed. She looked straight into his elated amber eyes and asked, “What’ve you been up to?” He popped up and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” She brought the towel up to dry the underside of his neck and he lunged with another kiss. “Thank you.” Becca couldn’t help but return the favor, planting a nice big smooch to his soft cheek.  

“He’s so cute!” Sienna cried, kneeling down to share in the action.  

“Isn’t he?” Jenner wasn’t Becca’s dog but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a sense of motherly pride for the good boy.  

Sienna whispered in her ear, “Just like his owner.” 

“He’s cuter,” Becca said flatly as she rubbed behind his ears. “Better personality too.” 

Just then they heard that deep velvety baritone voice admonish, “Rookie, are you insulting my dog?” 

“Nope,” Becca chimed and leaned in to give Jenner another kiss on the nose.  

Sienna couldn’t help the giggle. 

After the food was settled away in the kitchen, Ethan and Naveen spread out the furniture in the main living space to make it more accessible for Elijah. Sienna sat on the rug by the coffee table completely enamored with Jenner, while Becca and Elijah finished the game of checkers they started moments before the older doctors’ arrival. 

“I’m making a meat lasagna for dinner, is that alright with everyone?” Ethan asked the eclectic group of medical professionals.  

They all agreed with a mix of nods, “yes” and “sounds good”. 

Sienna looked up to see the attending standing behind the rotated sofa with a look of apprehension drawn all over his features. He seemed like he was in a daze and she wondered what could possibly be plaguing his mind. “Do you need any help, Dr. Ramsey? Becca and I would be more than happy to lend a hand.” 

Ethan shook his head slowly, “Thank you for the offer, but please keep the old man company.” He took one quick sweep of the room as if he was taking in the physical symptoms of a patient, trying to diagnose how these next few days will play out.   

In his absence, Naveen and the young residents spoke about the weather and how they seem to be getting on in their second year, and what hobbies they had besides working. Death's door gave Naveen an appreciation for all the small things in life and now he made sure he gave ample time to his other passions, such as painting, fishing and reading. Noting how Naveen only owned a small television and not many movies, Elijah took it upon himself to quiz the man on his imperative film knowledge. 

Already knowing which way this conversation was going Becca opted to cater, “I’ll see if Ramsey needs help.” She stood up and left Sienna to mediate the depth of the conversation. 

There in the middle of the tiny kitchen was Ethan staring blankly into a pot of tomato sauce as if he was looking for a deeper meaning to his worries, and a dish towel draped over his shoulder. Becca leaned on the wooden door frame and took in the sight of the man she’s seen cook on many occasions. This time was different. The motions and methodology to his recipe didn’t seem to soothe him like usual. He was standing as straight as possible, his shoulders tense under his white button-down, and from the side she could see the three lines of perplexity etched into his forehead.  

“You okay?” she asked quietly from her position.  

He didn’t need to look at her to know her light brown eyes had darkened over with concern. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied as he intently stirred his sauce.  

“Seem a little on edge.” Becca pushed herself off the wall and closed the distance between them. She could now fully see what Ethan had been preparing - a large pot of tomato sauce, minced beef already seasoned and cooked through sitting on a back burner, a tray and cheeses laid out on the counter to his left. She was so close to him, her chest a nudge away from pressing itself against his side.  

Out of the corner of his right eye he let himself admire the short brunette and the way she was this close and still smelled like sweet freesia after a long day and the rain. “I assure you I am fine.” 

Her eyes darted up and caught him staring, a small smile begging to shine just for him. She moved ever so much closer, letting her left hand fall to the small of Ethan’s back and her head rest lightly on his upper arm. “This is weird, isn’t it?” she paused before clarifying “Them being here?” 

Without hesitation Ethan sighed, “God, yes.” His free hand moved briskly to rub down his face. “I didn’t think - I- I’m glad we could help. It feels…” he stumbled over his words and Becca finished for him, no doubt in her mind they were feeling the same way about the situation;

“Foreign?” 

He nodded once, “Like I’ve stepped into someone else's life.”  

“What?” Becca pulled her body away from his, obviously taken aback by his admission. To her the situation just felt unfamiliar and scary that what they tried so hard to protect could now be out in the open. But his choice of words made her feel less than, like Ethan didn’t want to be there with her or her friends, or even make any effort at curating a semblance of a normal relationship.  

Ethan moved away from her and to the counter. “Stir the sauce,” he commanded. 

Becca picked up the wooden spoon from where he left it in the pot, watching him intently. 

Ethan grabbed a knife and began slicing a ball of mozzarella. Becca opened her mouth to say something but he was quicker, “I can handle you, me and Naveen. That’s a bubble I don’t mind,” he began to explain. “I don’t know how I feel about letting your friends into my business.” 

She wanted to reach out for him but knew leaving the sauce to burn would create a whole other world of problems in an already delicate situation. “You can trust them. I do, with my life,” she said sweetly, trying to convey years of gratitude in just a few words. When he didn’t respond she added, “At any rate they know there’s something between us and just want us to be happy.” 

He suddenly stopped his movements and gave her a side eye, silently asking if she told them of their situation. He knew she would never break his trust but he needed the confirmation - he needed to be sure nothing was hanging out there and on the line. 

Becca shook her head in reassurance. 

His shoulders slouched briefly as he brought his attention back to the cheese at hand. 

She let a few moments pass before saying, “Be yourself, Ethan. That’s all any of us ask of you.”  

________________________________________

A/N: Really disappointed in myself for not adding Bryce into the mix. I’d live for some Ethan/MC/Bryce jealousy angst. Some other story I guess.. 😞

Taglist: @ohchoices​​​ @dulceghernandez​​​​ @aylamreads​​​ @binny1985​​​​ @ramseysno1rookie​​​​ @interobanginyourmom​​​​ @queencarb​​​​ @perriewinklenerdie​​ @rookiefromedenbrook​​​ @eramsey28​​​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​​ @heauxplesslydevoted​​​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​​​ @purpledragonturtles​​​ @ramseyandrys​​​​ @ermidc​​​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​​​ @doilooklikeiknow​​ @overwhelminglyaquarius​​ @drethanramslay​

[gwentoryfics]

Hot for Teacher, Part 9

GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

WORDS | 13.5k (oops)

SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

WARNINGS | Swearing. Angggssstttt. Explicit smut. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (female receiving). 

PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • More Coming Soon

NOTE | This one was so hard to write! Thank you as always for your patience 💕 I’ll be waiting 24 hours to answer any asks you peaches send in so as not to spoil anything for other readers, but please let me know what you think! Also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

TAGS | @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @jinjinmyworld, @kkxn0​, @precious-seungwooya​, @seraplantery​, @the-deviant-world​, @yeosang-ponytail​

You wake up in the morning in a bed that’s clearly not your own and a smile comes to your lips when you remember everything that happened last night. You never imagined that you’d have such a crazy night with Yanan and Changgu, but you don’t regret it for one second. You give yourself a moment to stretch before climbing out of Changgu’s bed, noticing the mellow soreness in your muscles.

You slip on your clothes from the party and head out to the common area of the apartment, where Yanan and Changgu are both hard at work in the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you sing-song, still feeling satisfied from last night.

Both boys turn around and smile at you. Yanan coos, “Morning, sweetheart.”

The pet name sends a tingle through you.

Changgu whisks something in a bowl as he greets you. “I was just about to make some scrambled eggs. Want some?”

“Yes, please.” You smile warmly and plop yourself down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 

Yanan prepares a second cup of coffee and places it in front of you. “You’re in awfully high spirits this morning.”

“Yeah, thank you for that,” you raise an eyebrow as you blow on the top of your steaming coffee. Yanan gives you a flirty grin before drinking his own coffee and then peeling off to grab some fresh fruit from the refrigerator. 

Changgu pours the eggs into a frying pan and starts cooking up your breakfast. “Glad to hear you had fun last night. You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“It was… great.” There are a million stronger adjectives you could use, such as amazing, incredible, magical, mind-blowing… but you don’t want to boost their egos too much. “Do you guys do this often?”

Changgu shrugs. “It’s sort of an occasional thing. Our tastes in women don’t always overlap, unfortunately. And even if we find someone we’re both interested in, she might not be interested in both of us.”

You hum and nod. It definitely doesn’t seem like something that could just magically fall into place super frequently. But based off of last night, you’re willing to bet that both boys are impressive lovers even on their own. They were each so attentive and responsive, and the amount of aftercare you received when you finally wrapped up the night made the whole night absolutely heavenly.

“So _____,” Yanan leans over the island, pushing a bowl of fruit your way. “I meant to ask last night, but you’re old enough to come out with us to Andy’s next time, right?”

You frown slightly. “Not quite. I just turned twenty, so I technically have another year. Although I do have a fake ID that works just fine as long as there’s no one there to call me out on it.”

He scoffs, clearly remembering the run-in with Professor Yang that ruined the night last time you went out with them. “Yeah, Hongseok really knows how to ruin a good time, doesn’t he?”

“Why do you insist on calling him by his first name?” It catches you off guard every time, especially because the professor has been so explicit about his preferences when it comes to the way students address him. You’re willing to bet that, based on the way he and Yanan interacted and the fact that Yanan uses his first name, they must know each other outside of school. “Do you have something against him?”

Yanan takes a long sip of his coffee before responding. “Perhaps I do. But I’ll tell you this, he sure as hell started it.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Changgu pipes up as he transfers the eggs to a plate. “That’s a pretty big can of worms you’re trying to open.”

“Well you can’t just say something like that and expect me not to be curious! Now I need to know.”

Yanan pulls up a stool. “I went to a different school for a year and a half before transferring here. Washington University.”

You immediately recognize the university as being the most prestigious school in the city. It’s stupid expensive, and it’s really hard to get in. “You went to Washington?”

He nods. “And so did Hongseok. I met him there while he was getting his Masters degree. We both worked in the Mathematics Department office.” Yanan bites down onto a strawberry. “We got along okay, but I wouldn’t say we were ever friends. Our work schedules occasionally overlapped and we were cordial with each other. But one day he heard me bragging to a friend about how I’d slept with my Economics professor to boost my grade. Business school wasn’t for me, so I did what I could to make it a little easier.”

Your eyes widen and you’re struck with something that feels kind of like… panic? “You slept with your professor?”

“I did,” he responds proudly. “And then Hongseok turned me in to the Dean. She got fired and I lost all of my scholarship money, so I transferred. What are the odds that he’d end up over here too?” He chuckles darkly.

Yanan interrupts your train of thought. “I think he was just pissed because he worked so hard and he didn’t think it was fair that I was trying to take the easy way out. To that, I say that nothing in life is fair and he needs to get over himself.”

You try to seem as natural as possible despite the slight discomfort seeping into your bones. “Oh man, I can’t believe you had to transfer because of all that. That basically changed your whole future, right?”

“It did, but I’m not terribly torn up about it.” Yanan dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand. “I had fun with my professor, but I’ve enjoyed my time at this school more than I ever did at Washington. It might be less prestigious, and I might be getting a music degree instead of a business degree, but I didn’t ever have much interest in business anyway.”

You nod slowly, at least glad to hear that Yanan’s doing okay. “You still seem to have a bit of a grudge towards Professor Yang, though.”

“That I do. Not just because he turned me in, though. I don’t particularly like the way he looks down on me all the time. He’s got a real ego problem.”

“You’ve got that right,” you murmur, thinking about the way Professor Yang first confronted you at the beginning of the year, how he assumed you must have been obsessively crushing on him to the point of intentionally seducing him at the wedding. He does seem to be quite a bit self-absorbed.

Changgu speaks up. “What about you, _____? It seemed like you and Professor Yang were pretty familiar with each other.”

And just like that, your ease gives way to mild anxiety. “Oh, I’m just in his class.” You try to brush it off.

Changgu nods, but you’re not really sure that he believes you. He serves you your eggs. “You know, I followed the two of you outside when he insisted on sending you home. Things between you seemed… heated.”

“Mm,” you hum, letting yourself take a bite of your eggs as you scramble to come up with an excuse. “It was just all of the adrenaline from the surprise performance I had to give, you know. And it’s easy to just return his fire with fire, especially because, you know, he’s messed up my grades a few times and I’ve had to have multiple talks with him about that, so like, there’s just tension, you know, but it’s not really a big deal or anything...” Like an idiot you ramble and over-share, just like you always do when you’re put on the spot.

“I see.” Changgu raises an eyebrow.

Yanan’s brow furrows as he tries to comprehend the beans you just spilled. “You’re telling me that Hongseok, the mathematical genius, messed up your grades?”

“Yeah, it’s so stupid, right? I don’t know what his deal is.” You force out an awkward laugh and follow it with a lie to try to soften the damage you’ve done. “It happened with my friend, too... I think he must just get distracted while he’s grading or something. Who knows?”

Yanan seems unwilling to let it go as he presses, “He boosts your grades?”

You nod, completely incapable of thinking through actions or words before letting them happen. “Ah, yeah. But it’s kind of a mix, I guess.”

And then the shittiest grin comes to Yanan’s lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me he’s got a thing for you.”

It’s such an easy conclusion to come to, and you led him right to it. Now you’re totally frozen and unsure of how to respond. How are you supposed to answer that?

Changgu comes to your rescue, placing a hand on Yanan’s shoulder as he speaks. “Even if he does, it’s not her fault, and she doesn’t seem particularly comfortable with all of this, so why don’t we let it go? It’s all speculation, anyway.”

“Of course.” Yanan nods curtly, and an uncomfortable silence falls between the three of you.

The irony of this whole situation is not lost on you. If anything happens between you and Professor Yang, he’d be nothing less than a hypocrite now that you know he got Yanan in trouble for the same behavior. And if Yanan were to ever hear about it, you’re not confident that any interest he has in you would overshadow the opportunity for revenge. You’re just collateral damage in his feud with Professor Yang. 

Getting close to these boys might be more dangerous than you originally thought. 

Monday night rolls around, and you know you should be getting ready to head out for R&B ensemble… but instead you just anxiously pace through your living room, completely unsure if you can work up the courage to see Kino tonight.

You haven’t said a word to each other since your birthday party. He hasn’t even texted to indicate he wanted to walk with you to practice tonight, and you can’t say you blame him. You were kind of a huge dick to him after you kissed. You weren’t really in a good frame of mind to actually talk it through with him at the party, but the longer you wait to talk to him, the less of an excuse you have. You’re completely sober now, and you were yesterday, too. He’s one of your best friends - there’s no reason why you can’t talk to him about this. 

Really you know it’s because, no matter how close you are with him, you’re absolutely terrified about how badly the conversation could go.

You care about Kino so much. You honest-to-God love the kid. But do you care about him romantically? 

You pull your phone out and write out a quick text to Wooseok: Not feeling well, so I’m going to rest tonight. Can you tell teach I’m going to miss practice?

You just can’t work up the nerve to go in tonight.

Wooseok responds: No prob. U need anything?

You: No I’m ok, thank you though.

Wooseok: K. Rest up, short stuff.

Dropping your phone onto the couch, you resort to just jumping up and down because you’re so full of nervous energy. You don’t even want to start thinking about everything that’s transpired between you and Wooseok on top of your situation with Kino. He also hasn’t said much to you since the party, and you can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that you ditched your own party to bang Yanan and Changgu.

That shouldn’t have bothered him since you agreed to only be friends, and it’s definitely not a decision you regret making. That night with the two seniors was incredible, even if the morning after took a turn for the worse.

Inevitably, your mind returns to Kino. You let out a low groan and burst into the bedroom where Nailah has been studying.

“Nailahhhhh,” you groan. “I don’t know what to do.”

Nailah holds up a finger and continues reading, and you just stand there jittering in silence while you wait for her to finish. After a solid thirty seconds that feels like five minutes, she snaps her textbook shut and looks up at you. “What’s wrong, boo?” 

“I have to talk to Kino but I don’t want to.”

“About what? The fact that you guys made out?”

You bite your lip and nod. “I haven’t talked to him since the party and I feel awful about it and I know that we need to just have a conversation but I’m terrified about what’ll happen and I honestly don’t even know how I feel?” Words come out of you stupidly fast as you try to express everything that you’re feeling.

She checks her phone, presumably to see what time it is. “Don’t you usually have a class tonight?”

“R&B Ensemble. I’m skipping. Not ready to see Kino yet.”

Nailah gives you a once-over, gets up from her bed, and starts digging through her dresser drawers. “You’ve got too much energy. Let’s go to the gym and work this out.”

“The gym?” Your mind briefly flashes back to the last time you went to the gym with her and you crossed paths with Professor Yang. That’s… potentially less of a problem right now. Hell, seeing Professor Yang working out would probably be a welcome distraction from everything with Kino. So what if he’s there? Besides, Nailah’s right - it would be nice to do something with all of this energy you’ve got right now. “Okay, yeah. Good idea.”

Nailah sits you down at the bicep curl machine and she squats in front of you while you try to do a few reps. “So talk to me about what happened. I know what I saw, but I want to hear it from you.”

You let out a strained exhale as you pull the handles up towards your chest. “I went out for some air, and Kino came out, and we were dancing to the music and I told him I love him.”

“What?” Her eyes widen.

“I do, though!” You pull up again. “Like the same way I love you, you know? And I think he took it to be something romantic, and then he kissed me. And I kissed him back.”

“Did you like it?”

Pull. “I did. He’s a good kisser.”

“But you’re conflicted.”

“Yeah.” Pull. “Because I don’t know if I like him that way. And I think he might like me that way. And what if I decide that I don’t like him that way, and then it ruins our friendship?”

“Is there a chance you might like him that way?”

You drop the handles. Is there? You think about all of the times you’ve hung out in practice rooms, all of the notes you send each other during class. And then you think about the dance showcase, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours, the press of his lips as he kissed your forehead that night. It’s undeniable that your heart beats a little faster as you think about him. “Shit. Maybe?”

“Okay.” Nailah nods. “Maybe isn’t a great answer.”

“I know,” you grumble. “That doesn’t give me any kind of clarity.”

“So just imagine that you talk to him about the kiss, and he tells you he likes you and he might even be interested in dating. How does that make you feel?” Nailah asks, and then she gestures to the machine to encourage you to keep going.

You pull up again. “I feel overwhelmed.”

“Now imagine that instead, he says that he was confused and he didn’t really mean it. He wants to stay friends. How does that make you feel?”

“...less overwhelmed.”

“That says a lot, doesn’t it?”

“But what if I’m only overwhelmed because it’s different, not because I dislike it?” Pull harder. “What if I’m less overwhelmed by staying friends just because that’s what I’m used to?”

“Well that’s something you’re going to have to examine. I don’t have the answer to that.” Nailah stands, crossing her arms over her chest.

You huff loudly, letting go of the bar again. “Why is this so difficult?”

“Are you telling me that you’re surprised that you don’t know what you want? Sweetie, indecision is your middle name,” she teases. “You made out with Kino and then slept with two other guys all in the same night. And don’t even get me started on whatever the hell is going on between you and that Wooseok kid.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. “What do you mean? Why are you bringing up Wooseok?”

“I’m not dumb, _____. You’ve obviously got something going on with him. So ‘fess up.”

“Can I switch machines first?”

Nailah stands and gestures for you to come along. You sit side by side at two leg press machines, and you try not to feel intimidated by the amount of weight she sets on her machine. Once you’re both settled in, she looks over at you expectantly.

“So…” You try to figure out where to start, and then you decide you just need to dish the whole story. Besides, he’s already told Yuto about all of it, so you should get to have a confidante, too. “I offered to tutor him in music theory because he was struggling, and it was totally fine. Then one night he invited me over to his place when I was feeling particularly… feisty… and we got drunk and made out.”

“Ah, the Queen of Bad Decisions strikes again.” Nailah chuckles. “Continue.”

Her comment makes you roll your eyes, but it feels good that she’s so lighthearted about it. “So then we talked about it later and decided that we both would be okay with, like, occasionally hooking up in a totally casual way.”

She nods slowly. “You know, if I remember correctly, I believe I actually suggested you try hooking up with him, didn’t I?”

“Sure did,” you acknowledge with a flat tone, remembering the lunchtime conversation you had that feels like forever ago.

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Maybe like… a month and a half?”

“Okay, okay.” Nailah just keeps nodding. “Obviously I approve, but it’s also important that you feel comfortable with your choices and you’ve got a lot going on right now.”

It feels good to get all of this off of your chest. So good, in fact, that you contemplate filling her in on everything regarding Yanan and Professor Yang as well. But at this point nothing is happening between you and him, so there’s really no reason to talk about it. “You’re right. There’s just… a lot to think about.”

“Maybe Thanksgiving break will be good for you. You can head home, spend some time with your family, and avoid all of these boys for a long weekend. That might give you the time you need to clear your head and figure out what you want.” She pushes the machine with her legs, thigh muscles impressively bulging.

“Yeah. That’ll be nice.” You really are looking forward to heading home in a few days. It’ll be so nice to see Minseo again and get a break from all of the drama you’ve managed to create for yourself. “Can we be done here, now? You know I can’t match your stamina.”

Nailah laughs and gives one last push. “Sure, sweetie. Let’s head home.”

Even though working out with Nailah and talking it over with her helps you feel a little more at ease, it still doesn’t prepare you for the phone call you receive when you’re back at the apartment. 

Your phone lights up as it vibrates, the name City Boy pulling up on the screen.

“Nailah, he’s calling me.” You panic.

“Well answer it.” Nailah encourages you. “Now’s as good a time as any to talk it out.”

You almost let it go to voicemail, but at the last second you swipe to answer. Awkwardly, you say, “Heyyy! Kino, hey. What’s up?”

“Hey, _____.” He sounds incredibly mellow. “Are you feeling alright? Wooseok said you’re sick.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… just had a headache, that’s all.” You rub your forehead as you try to figure out what to tell him, and you duck into the bedroom to have a private conversation. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”

“Of course.” Pause. “Um, so you’re probably home right now, right?”

“Mhm. Just resting,” you lie.

“Flash your light for me. I’m in my room, too.”

You do as he asks, and then you sit on the floor by your floor-to-ceiling window and look for his signal. Once you spot his room, you say, “Found you.”

Kino waves gently up at you, and you wave back. Then he clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair. “So I guess the reason I actually called is because I kind of had the feeling you might be avoiding me, and I know it’s not even a big deal because it’s only been, like, two days that we haven’t talked, and it’s totally understandable that you might want some space, but I just felt so bad that you didn’t come to rehearsal tonight and I don’t want you to avoid things you love because of me.”

You wait until he gets it all off of his chest, sitting quietly while you try to figure out how to respond. 

“I’m really sorry, _____. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that when we were both kind of out of it. And now I’m just terrified that I messed up so badly that I’m going to lose you completely, and I can’t stand the thought of it.”

“Kino…” 

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

You can hear the reservation in his voice. This is terrifying territory for both of you. You take a deep breath and respond as honestly as you can. “I don’t know. I care about you a lot, but I’m not sure yet if any of it is romantic.” He doesn’t respond right away, so you ask, “What about you? Do you have feelings for me?”

Kino sighs quietly. “Actually, I don’t know, either. I might. But if that’s not what you want, I can absolutely squash that so we can keep being friends. That’s the most important thing to me.”

You sit quietly for a moment. “I think I need time. I’ve just never really thought about you that way, but then after you kissed me… I don’t know. I’m really sorry that I’m so confused by all of this. I really wish I could give you a straight answer.”

“It’s okay.” Kino’s voice is warm. “You don’t have to push yourself in one direction or the other. We can just sit on it for a little bit, and maybe talk about it after break once you’ve had some time to think?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond softly, grateful that he’s not pushing you for an answer one way or the other.

“But I guess one thing I’d like to know now is, are we still friends?” 

“Yes! Of course we are,” you respond without hesitation. “No matter what we decide, we’ll stay friends at the very least.”

“Okay good.” He smiles up at you from his window. “You’re going home for break, right?”

“Mhm, I’m taking the train out on Wednesday night,” you say. “What about you? Are you visiting your family?”

“Yeah. I don’t really want to, though.”

Based on past conversations with Kino, and the emotional performance he choreographed for the showcase, you’ve pieced together how he doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents. But you’ve never gotten the full story. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kino sighs. “It’s just hard to be around my parents. My mom is emotionally abusive and my dad doesn’t do anything to stop it. If I were an only child, there’s no way in hell I’d go back there for Thanksgiving. But I miss my sisters and I need to make sure they’re doing alright.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that. I think your sisters are really lucky to have a brother like you.”

“Thanks. I feel guilty enough that I even went to college in the first place, and I know I don’t visit home as often as I should. It was easier for me to protect my siblings when I still lived there, but I was also at my wit’s end. I can’t tell you how much better I’ve felt since starting college, as long as you don’t count the guilt of abandoning my siblings.”

“You have to look out for yourself, too, though. If you had stayed home and taken all the blows, what kind of life would you be making for yourself? If your sisters are anything like you, then I know they’re kind-hearted and strong, and they’ll make it out of the house too when it’s their turn.”

Kino sniffs, and you wonder if he’s crying. He’s just far enough away that it’s hard to tell. “You’re right.”

“You should invite your sisters to hang out with us sometime. We could all go do karaoke together or something.”

“I’m sure they’d love that! That would be really fun.” Kino sounds a little lighter now. “Thanks, _____. I’ve been so stressed about my family situation since I know I’m going home this week, and talking to you really helps me feel better.”

“Of course! What are friends for?”

“I need to get going, but there was actually one more thing I wanted to ask you about.”

“Go for it.”

“Can you be honest with me about Wooseok? You two just got so close so fast, and it’s not like that’s a problem or anything, but… do you like him? Are you two a thing? Because I’ve been suspicious for a while and I think knowing if there’s something going on between you two will help me figure out what I’m feeling.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. Why are you so afraid to be honest with him about it? At this point you’ve denied it quite a few times around him, and it sounds like he doesn’t fully believe you. So you really have no choice but to tell him the truth. 

He continues. “Do you remember the night you got drunk with him and then crashed at my place? You told me about what you two did, and I just… I want to know if it happened again.”

You swallow hard, and then spit it out. “We’re just friends, but we’ve slept together a few times.”

“Ah.” Kino sounds disappointed. “And you don’t have any feelings for him?”

“I don’t.” You adamantly respond, but even as you say the words you’re not positive they’re the truth. So you say, “I mean, I don’t think I do.”

“Got it. Well thank you for telling me. I have to get going though, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

You’re surprised by how abruptly he excuses himself from the conversation, but you don’t really feel like you’re in a place to ask him to stay. “Okay. Talk to you later.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye, and you can tell that must have hurt him. You had no choice but to be honest, because it’s time you start facing your messes - even if it creates new ones in the process. But as you flop back onto your bed, you realize that Kino’s response speaks volumes about how he actually feels about you.

Anxious, you check the time on your phone again. Shinhye should be here by now, but she’s nowhere to be seen. It’s just you at the bus stop. You decide to call her just to make sure she’s actually coming.

She answers on the third ring. “Hey, _____…”

“Shinhye, are you coming? We’re going to be so late to Professor Yang’s exhibit.” You bounce on the balls of your feet as if that will help keep you warm.

“I don’t think I can make it, actually, I think I’m coming down with something. I just really don’t feel well.”

“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you pout. “That sucks. Well get lots of rest then, okay?”

“I will.” Shinhye sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just, like, took a nap and I thought that I set an alarm, but apparently I didn’t.”

“It’s totally okay. I’ll see if someone else can go with me. You just get better.”

“I’ll do my best,” she chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

You hang up and frown. You were really hoping she’d come with you today. Professor Yang had announced in class this morning that he’s got an exhibit tonight, and anyone who attended would get extra credit for the class. You’re genuinely interested in seeing more of the instruments he’s made, so you’re excited to go. You just don’t know if you want to go alone.

You could call Kino, since he’s usually your go-to guy whenever you need a companion, but you still feel weird about the way the conversation ended last night. It would probably be awkward for the two of you to make the trip together.

And there’s Wooseok… Maybe you should give him a ring. Things have also been a little off with him since the party, but it feels easier to ignore that weirdness than the tension between you and Kino. You go ahead and give him a call.

“_____! Heyyyy,” Wooseok drawls. “I miss you.”

“You miss me?” You laugh quietly, immediately recognizing the boozed-up drawl of his voice. “Or are you just drunk?”

He gasps. “How did you know?”

“Wooseok, it’s a Tuesday night. What are you doing getting hammered?”

“My morning class tomorrow got canceled because of TURKEY DAY WOOOOOOOO- OH SHIT-”

You hear a crash of glass, and your eyes widen. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, totallyyyy- totally fine. It’s fine. I just dropped my cup, but it’s fine. I was talking to you so I got distracted.”

“Is Minho there?”

“No, he went home already. Can you come over? I wanna see you.”

“I can’t right now, I have somewhere to be. But if you put the alcohol away and just drink water for the rest of the night, I think I can come over later.”

“Yes, ma’am. Gotta drink that water. I can do that.” 

“Good,” you laugh. “Be careful, okay? And don’t try to pick up the broken glass with your hands. Just sweep it off to the side and we’ll clean it up later.”

“Why do you sound like my mom?” 

“Because that’s what you need right now,” you laugh. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay. You’re great. Bye.”

You hang up. That was a bust. After a few minutes you still can’t think of anyone else you’d want to invite. But then the bus arrives and you decide that you’d rather just be on your way than try to find another person to come with.

It’s a long ride, and you’re later than you wanted to be. By the time you arrive, you pass a few other students from your class on their way out. Actually, the whole place looks pretty empty. Did you miss it?

The door is unlocked, so you let yourself in, the little bells on the handle jingling to signal your arrival. In a matter of seconds, Professor Yang’s head pops out from around a corner.

“Hey, we’re actually clo… oh, hi.” When he sees you, his eyes widen a little, made all the more obvious by the round frames that sit atop his nose. You've never seen him in glasses before, and it's a good look for him. But he could pull off literally anything, so you’re not surprised.

Still, you frown, feeling like you really wasted your time hauling ass the whole way up to the north side just to arrive as soon as it's ending. You should have just gotten on the earlier bus instead of waiting for Shinhye. “Shit, I knew I was running late, but I didn’t think I was going to miss the whole thing.”

Professor Yang steps out into the exhibit room, pulling back the sleeves of his deep blue sweater. “It’s okay, I’m not going to kick you out.” 

“It sounded like you were about to,” you joke, trying to make light of the situation.

“Yeah, but you’re…” Professor Yang looks for a brief moment like he’s having difficulty deciding how to qualify you. “...my student.”

“I am,” you respond awkwardly. “Um, I know you were going to give us extra credit for being here, but you don’t have to do that since it's clearly over.”

He glances at the watch on his wrist. “If you let me show you around and tell you about some of the instruments for, like, fifteen minutes, I can give you credit.”

“That sounds good to me." You smile, but unfortunately your stupid ass can't just leave it there. You tack on, "Teach me, Professor.” And you laugh awkwardly, immediately regretting everything.

He chuckles, possibly out of politeness, and leads you to the first guitar on display. “You’re already familiar with this one. She’s the one I keep in my office.”

“I remember,” you admire the gorgeous instrument as you slip your coat off, already getting warm now that you're indoors. “She’s the reason why I was so excited to see what else you’ve built.”

“She’s one of my best, so don’t be too disappointed in the others,” he laughs.

As he walks through the exhibit with you, he speaks in detail about each of his creations. He explains to you how he decides what type of wood to work with, and his process for cutting and shaping the instruments. His collection is mostly guitars - some twelve-strings and classical guitars included - as well as ukuleles and mandolins. Although he suggested he’d only take up fifteen minutes of your time, he speaks with you about his instruments for well over an hour, and you soak up all of the information he’s willing to share with you. 

During your tour, you notice more than a few empty instrument stands. “Why are some missing?”

“I sold them,” he explains. “Part of the purpose of this exhibit was to sell some of the instruments I’ve built, and the other part was to get commissions. I was successful in both parts.”

“That’s amazing! Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He beams. “I’m eager to start working on the new projects.”

“Where do you do your building? Do you have all the tools at home?”

He shakes his head. “Definitely not. I rent a workshop space. Or if I’m able, I’ll try to do some work in the shop we use for class.” With another glance at his watch, he takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I’m sorry for talking your ear off. It’s getting late so I should really start getting packed up.”

“Oh, it’s like over over?”

“Yeah, tonight was the last of two nights. So I have to clean up, close up, and get the keys back to the shop owner first thing tomorrow morning.”

Without thinking, you offer, “I can help."

“Nonsense. I won’t make you do that.”

“You have a lot of instruments, it’ll be a lot faster if you just let me help. I don’t mind it. Honestly.”

He surveys you, angling his body directly at you for the first time all night - not that you're hyper-aware of his body language or anything. “Alright. Let’s go get the cases.”

You bring the custom-made soft cases from the back out into the exhibit space. He has them organized well, so it’s easy to find which instruments belong in which cases. In no time, you’ve got them all cased up and ready to go.

Carrying a few instruments at a time, you walk with him through the back door to the small parking lot - only three spaces available behind the building. He walks up to the dinkiest little Nissan and manually unlocks the front door, pulling a lever on the floor to pop open the trunk.

“Wow,” you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t expect you to drive such an old-looking car.”

“Yeah, I’ve had this thing for forever. I have other more important things to put my money towards.” He lifts one of the guitars he holds, making it clear that his luthier hobby preoccupies most of his funds. 

Together, you make a few trips to grab all of the instruments and load up his car, carefully placing each instrument into the trunk and back seat. Once he’s packed, you check your phone for the next bus time. The next bus isn’t for half an hour, and you frown. The damn thing is always running late anyway, so you know it’ll take much longer than thirty minutes.

“How are you getting home?” He asks, as if reading your mind.

“The bus. It’s not too far from here. I should probably head out, actually. Don’t want to miss it.” Even though you know the bus won’t show up for a while, you intentionally excuse yourself with a lie. It’s best that you just head on out.

Professor Yang checks his trusty watch yet again. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Your eyes widen. That’s the complete opposite of what should happen right now. “No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you. I take the bus all the time and it’s really not a big deal. Plus it drops off right across from my dorm so it’s actually really convenient for me.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to accept it. “It’s late, it’s cold out, and this isn’t a great neighborhood. Even if it were warmer out, I still couldn’t let you stand around out here by yourself.”

You’re hesitant to accept, although a car ride does sound pretty nice. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He nods confidently. “You’ve shown that you can be mature about our relationship, so I think this is something we can both comfortably handle.”

It’s a weird compliment, but you’ll take it. You really have been trying hard to just let things be normal between the two of you, and it seems to be going okay. And then you have an idea - as in an attempt to prove just how normal everything is, you ask him, “Do you need extra hands to help unload at your place? You’ll have to make a million trips by yourself. Since we’re... okay with each other and everything, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

He takes a moment to think. “I suppose it would be helpful.”

“Cool. We’ll just unload and then I can probably catch a bus from there. Maybe a taxi if you’re close enough to downtown that it won’t cost me a fortune.” 

“I can still drive you the rest of the way,” he insists.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be weird if other students at the dorm saw me getting out of your car? They might get the wrong idea.”

“I’ll drop you off a block away, then.”

“Fine,” you concede. Somehow it feels like you’ve won. Profesor Yang didn’t seem to think it was possible that the two of you could look past the one night you spent together and just get along normally, yet here you are making totally regular plans to just be in each others’ presence with absolutely no tension or weirdness whatsoever. That’s a success in your book.

You hop in on the passenger’s side. The inside of the car looks about as nice as the outside, and you suppress your giggle. It shouldn’t be so funny to you that an all-business guy like Professor Yang could still drive some piece of junk car. It’s kind of endearing that he’s so… normal. 

And then he gets in, turns on the car, and does the fucking dad thing - the thing where he puts the car in reverse, places a hand on the back of your seat, and completely fucking twists around to look out the back instead of just using the mirrors.

“Oh my God,” you can’t control your laughter.

Professor Yang throws a weird look your way as he backs out of the parking space. “What are you laughing at?”

“You really are an old man. You know, they give you mirrors for a reason. You should be careful twisting your back like that, you’re going to pull something in your old age, what with that frail, old-man body you’ve got.” You snicker, mimicking an elderly person with lower back pain.

“What are you talking about?” His eyes widen and he brakes, his hand still on your seat as he faces you. “First of all, I’m not even thirty yet, so cut it out. And I’m not going to address what you just said about my body because we both know that’s not even close to the truth.”

You ignore the fact that he very clearly, possibly intentionally, just reminded you that you quite intimately know what his body is like. You ignore the fact that the way he’s posed is actually really hot because of how his jacket hangs open and his sweater pulls tightly across his muscled chest. You ignore the fact that it would be so easy for him to lean over the console and kiss you. 

You swallow hard. There are a million red flags, but you ignore them all. Remember that he’s completely over you.

“Okay but you did just address it by saying that,” you say, trying to sound unaffected.

“Come on, I can’t just let you talk about me that way. It’s a lot of work to stay this fit and here you are calling me frail and old like you’re not-” He bites his tongue. 

“Like I’m not what?” Into it? Attracted? Drooling about it every time you picture him shirtless?

“I was going to say, ‘like you’re not walking around in a twelve-year-old’s body,’ but then I decided that would just be mean.” 

Your face heats up. You really shouldn’t be talking about bodies with him right now. Not when he just said that the two of you are mature enough to just be normal with each other. It’s so tempting to remind him how not prepubescent your body is, but you finally use some good judgment and decide to watch your words. “It’s just as mean as me calling you old, so it’s only fair.”

“I guess so.” Professor Yang laughs quietly, and then he falls silent. Maybe he’s fighting the same battle as you, trying not to picture you under him. Or maybe he actually has his shit together and this isn’t an issue for him. 

For once, he finally trusts you to be normal around him. You can’t blow it.

As you drive through the city, you tune into the rock music coming from his stereo. And the music selection is so ironic it fucking hurts.

“Don't want to be no uptown fool Maybe I should go to hell, but I'm doin' well, Teacher needs to see me after school...

“I think of all the education that I missed But then my homework was never quite like this Ow got it bad, got it bad, got it bad, I'm hot for teacher I got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher...”

You just sit there in wide-eyed terror as Van Halen streams from the speakers, and it takes Professor Yang a minute too long to realize what’s playing. He sucks in a quick breath when he notices, and scrambles to change the station. 

He settles on another rock station that’s currently playing Def Leppard, and you try to make light of the situation. “Do you only have rock stations programmed on here?”

Professor Yang clears his throat and tries to relax back in his seat, casually gripping the bottom of the steering wheel with one hand. “I just have a favorite genre, don’t act like you’re any different. I’m sure I could probably guess what you’re listening to.”

“Go ahead, then.” You laugh. “What do you think is the last song I played on my phone?”

His lips press into a line as he thinks. “Okay, this is somewhat of an educated guess. I’m going to go with “Superstitious” by Stevie Wonder.”

“Solid choice, but that’s not it.” You don’t actually remember what you were listening to earlier, but you know it wasn’t Stevie Wonder. 

“Plug your phone in, then. Let’s hear it.” He fishes out the aux cord, holding it out to you. 

“Oh man,” you laugh as you pull out your phone. “You’re really gonna slam me if I’ve got something stupid pulled up.”

“That’s the point. I’m testing your taste.”

It feels like he’s in exceptionally high spirits tonight. Maybe it’s because the exhibit went so well. Whatever the case, it helps you feel lighter. You plug in the phone and open your music - and luckily you’ve got a damn good song ready to go.

“You know The Emotions?” You ask him.

“Sounds familiar.”

You press play, and “Best of My Love” picks up somewhere in the middle.

“Oh, I think I know this song!” He pipes up. “Wow, I haven’t heard this in forever.”

“It’s so good! One of my favorites, actually.” 

“Demonstrating free love and affection That you give so openly The way I feel about you, baby, can't explain it Want the whole wide world to see Oh, woah You’ve got the best of my love...”

You force yourself to avoid looking over at him as you listen to the lyrics, realizing just how terrible this song choice actually is given the history between the two of you. But still, it’s a little less applicable than Van Halen, so you leave it on. You just remind yourself yet again that you’re over him, and he’s over you. Whatever’s going on between you now is totally, completely normal and regular and fine.

As you both quietly listen to your music, you wonder what’s going on in Professor Yang’s head. Eventually he speaks up, and it’s a completely different topic.

“I’m excited to see how your dulcimer turns out,” he says simply.

“Me too. I feel pretty good about it.”

“I’m impressed with what you’ve done so far. I think it’ll sound quite nice once it’s finished.” He makes a right turn, sparing a glance your way. “The true test will be part of your final.”

“What do you mean?”

“For the last day of class, you’ll have to write and perform a minute-long piece on your instrument.”

You squint skeptically “Don’t you think you’re giving me a bit of an advantage by telling me that now?”

“Do you know how to play a dulcimer?”

“No.”

“Do you have access to one that you could practice on?”

“No.”

“Then no, I don’t think you’re getting an advantage. I’m going to tell everyone else about the assignment next week. They’ll all have just as much time to prepare as you.”

You suppose that makes sense and he isn’t actually giving you any kind of benefit, but you can’t help thinking of all of the bogus grade adjustments you’ve had to confront him about. It sits with you weirdly, and you struggle to decide whether you should say anything about it.

Eventually you reach your destination. He lives in a cute little neighborhood on the north side in one of those little houses that has been converted into apartments. There aren’t any open parking spots on the street in front of his place, but he manages to find a spot on the next block. 

As he parallel parks, he turns around in his seat again to look out the back. And this time when he twists, he hisses and grabs his back like he’s in pain. “Ah, so old…”

It’s incredibly obvious that he’s faking because he’s a terrible actor, and you laugh. “This is why we have mirrors.”

He laughs with you and finishes pulling into the space. You both hop out and grab a few instruments from the back, and you let him lead the way down the sidewalk.

Professor Yang pauses at the door while he fishes for the right key. “I should warn you, I have a cat. Are you allergic?”

“Nope,” you smile. “I love cats!”

“He can be a little shy so he might not say hello.” He opens the main door and holds it open for you to step inside. You’re confronted with two more doors - one straight ahead and one to the right. He slips past you to unlock the one in front of you. He flips the light switch, illuminating the full length of the wooden staircase that heads directly up into his apartment. “Sorry to make you go up and down so many stairs. If you want, you can just stay down here and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff. “I’m here to help. I’m not just going to stand around and watch.” You confidently cross the threshold into his apartment, taking the literal first step into his personal life. You feel kind of nervous about coming inside, but you suck it up. This is only a big deal if you make it one, and you refuse to do that.

The stairs drop you off at a hallway that stretches off to your left, and an open kitchen and living room area is off to the right. You can’t see too much of it because the lights over there are still turned off, but you can see the tall window-doors that lead to the balcony outside.

“You can drop them off in the living room. Don’t worry about taking shoes off since we’re just heading back out again anyway.” He comes up behind you and flips another light, illuminating the living room and kitchen.

You do as he instructs, placing the instruments against the wall in the living room. The room is minimally decorated with a nice couch, a single armchair, and two large bookcases filled to the brim with books - save for the one shelf that is packed with vinyl records. It doesn’t surprise you to see so many books and records - he seems like he’s very well-read, and he’s enough of a music lover that of course he’d enjoy listening to records.

As much as you want to check out his collection, you know that you shouldn’t explore his apartment. You’re here to unload his instruments. That’s it.

You force yourself to turn away from the bookshelves and vaguely gesture towards the stairs. “Shall we?”

It takes a few trips, but eventually you get all of the instruments inside. All the while you’re incredibly aware of how close he is when he holds the doors open for you, or how damn cute the back of his head is when you’re following him down the stairs. You hate it - how can the back of a head be cute?

Over and over, you remind yourself: I’m over him. I’m over him.

You set down the last guitar with a small sigh. “I can’t imagine you having to do all of this by yourself. I’m glad I came to help.”

“I could have handled it, but thank you for your assistance.” Professor Yang steps into the kitchen. “Do you need anything to drink before I take you home?”

“Oh, no, thank you.” You shake your head, not wanting to impose. “Um, but can I use your restroom?”

“Sure. It’s the second door down the hall.” He gestures around the corner.

You follow his directions. When you’re finished peeing and washing your hands, you notice a pretty blue cologne bottle sitting on his counter. You pick it up and sniff it. Sure enough, it’s exactly the cologne you remember smelling on him. It’s absolutely delicious, and against your better judgment, you spritz it once on the inside of your jacket, zipping it up to lock in the scent and hopefully keep him from noticing the weird-as-fuck thing you just did.

When you come out of the bathroom, you head back towards the kitchen, but just then he comes out of his bedroom, startling you and nearly bumping into you.

“Oh!” You shout as you jump backwards, laughing. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s okay.” You brush it off.

He sniffs the air, and that’s when you know you fucked up. “Did you spray my cologne?”

You bite your lip, knowing there’s no point in lying. “I did.” He looks at you questioningly, so you fill in the gaps. “It just smells really good. I’m sorry.”

Professor Yang just watches you, and you’re fully aware of what a terrible idea it was to spray his cologne. And also what a terrible idea it was for you to even step foot into his apartment, let alone get in a car with him.

The rapid beating of your heart tells you that you’re still not over him. You don’t want to be over him.

What are you doing here? Why did you let yourself get to this point? 

You need to leave. You need to turn around and get yourself out of this mess. But for some reason, you’re completely captivated by his gaze, frozen in place and entirely unable to save yourself from the impending disaster.

It’s been far too long since he’s said anything, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. “What are you thinking right now?”

Too honestly, he responds, “It’s a bad idea for me to answer that question.”

“That answer makes it so much worse. What am I supposed to assume you’re thinking when you say that?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t assume anything.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just answer my question.”

He huffs. “I’m thinking that you shouldn’t have come here. That you’re only twenty. That I can’t trust myself to…”

“Hm?” You hum, encouraging him to finish his sentence.

“I can’t trust myself to make good choices around you.”

Your heart beats wildly in your chest. Is he struggling just as much as you? Is he feeling the same pull of temptation, knowing that you’re all alone in his apartment, literally steps away from his bedroom? You have to be careful about what you say. “You’ve been doing a great job so far.”

“Why are you here?”

It’s obvious that he’s questioning your intentions, just like he did the first time he realized you were in his class. “I swear I just came to help with your instruments. I’m not trying to be sneaky.”

“Right.” Professor Yang’s lips press into a tight line, and you’re dying to know what’s going on inside his head.

It feels like he’s faltering. Like he’s holding your gaze for too long, keeping you in this apartment longer than you should be. You can’t help but feel responsible for getting yourself out of this before you both make a mistake.

But… part of you doesn’t want to stop this moment, doesn’t want to break free from whatever trap you’re falling into. 

“I don’t know what to do.” You don’t think carefully enough about your words. “It feels like… we’re already keeping a secret. One more won’t make a difference.”

“You know damn well that the secret isn’t the issue. You’re my student. That’s the issue. It’s morally wrong.” Even as he speaks, you can feel that he doesn’t totally stand behind his words. Like he’s trying to convince himself that it would be wrong to act on whatever he’s feeling right now.

You remember everything Yanan told you about how Professor Yang has always had a rock-solid stance against teacher-student relations… But it seems like he could be questioning his own morality. If he really wants to shut this down, he could just break out of this moment and head for the car, drive you home and forget this even happened.

But he doesn’t.

It’s painfully silent between you - no one wants to make a move, no one wants to withdraw. You're desperate to just talk about all of this, but you're terrified of what could happen if you speak. You’re just stuck in this awkward limbo of not knowing what’s going to happen next.

You want so badly to reach out to him. To pull him close and feel him. You wonder what he’d be like as a lover now that you’re no longer strangers. It would be so easy for you to find out…

You take one small step towards him as a small sign that you’re open and willing, academia be damned. Professor Yang’s lips part ever so slightly as he scans your face, but he doesn’t back away.

Suddenly, there’s a noise in the kitchen, and you jump away from Professor Yang as if you’ve been caught - but it’s just his cat spilling its food all over the kitchen floor. 

Still, that cut in the tension is enough to pull you out of the moment and help you clear your head. This is bad, and you need to leave. You refuse to look at him as you mutter, “I need to go.”

The second you try to pass him to hurry down the stairs, he turns and reaches out, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you in your tracks. The heat of his hand sears your skin.

“What are you-”

Before you can finish your question, Professor Yang pulls you into him, wraps an arm tightly around you, and presses one long, powerful kiss to your lips. 

Your whole body lights up from head to toe. It’s an adrenaline rush like no other, a hit of the drug you were hopelessly addicted to that one summer night. This is exactly what you’ve been craving - his strong arms and soft lips remind you just how badly you’ve wanted his touch.

When he breaks the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours, breathing shakily. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?” And in that moment, it’s shockingly clear to you that he’s struggling with all of this just as much as you are. 

God, you’re so done for. This man completely owns your heart. Without a doubt, you’re a complete and total sucker for him. And it’s frighteningly easy for you to own up to that, as you say the most dangerous thing you could possibly say: “You don’t have to, Hongseok.”

His jaw visibly clenches when you say his name, and his voice is strained when he finally speaks. “Tell me again that you need to leave. Tell me to drive you home right now.”

“If I don’t?” You challenge.

“Then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t keep you here.” Hongseok swallows thickly. “So tell me I should take you home.”

Your pulse is through the roof as he pulls back and your eyes lock, and you know that you’re way too impulsive to do as he asks. You’ve been pining after this man for months, and here he is, kissing you and practically admitting that he feels the same way. You can’t just go home now.

“I don’t want to go home.” You grab onto the hem of his sweater and tilt your chin upwards, inviting him to kiss you again. “I only want you.”

This feels nothing like the night you met him, when he was playful and sure of himself. It’s like you can sense all of the weight he’s carried with him over the last few months. His eyes scan over your face, and you get to see the slightest smile on his lips before he finally leans in to close the gap.

Just like that, you get everything you’ve wanted from him. Hongseok’s lips are just as plush as you remember and you completely melt into the kiss, and his rough hands cup your face. You feverishly return each kiss, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater and pulling him towards you. Your nose bumps the rim of his glasses, but you don’t mind it one bit.

Hongseok kisses you like his life depends on it. He yanks your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the ground as he backs you into his bedroom. Every time he cups your cheek or grabs your waist, you feel like you could just shatter in his hands. 

You’re finally getting your fix and you love it. 

His passion is explosive as he kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close. The strength and heat of him surprises you, as if your body has forgotten what it’s like to be with him. His lips are so soft and warm, and you’re swallowed whole by your insatiable lust for him.

You slip your hands under the hem of his sweater, desperate to feel his skin. You can feel every defined muscle as you drag your fingers across his back, and you moan quietly against his mouth when you feel his hand reach down to squeeze your ass.

Pleasure shoots through you with every small contact. His breath mingles with yours and gives you life, each kiss keeping your heart beating happily in your chest. Everything just feels so damn good. 

You both stumble towards his bed, tearing at each others’ clothes until you finally get that sweater off of him and he gets you out of your top as well. The backs of your legs bump into the edge of his bed right before he pushes you back onto the comforter. You fall onto your back, and he leans over you, his mouth latching onto your neck as his hand fiddles with the button of your jeans.

You drag your fingers through his silky hair, and you feel him suck deeply on the skin at the base of your throat. It’s just strong enough to hurt a little, and you dig your nails into his back. “Oh my God,” you moan, absolutely possessed with lust as he marks you.

Hongseok yanks off your pants, and releases you so that he can unfasten his own. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he unclothes himself, his round glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. He is just breathtakingly gorgeous.

There’s so much you want to ask him - was it hard for him to see you in class? Has he been thinking of you this whole semester? But you don’t ask any of those things, because you’re terrified to draw attention to your academic relationship. Sleeping with your professor is obviously the wrong choice to make, but you honestly couldn’t give a shit about any of that right now. It’s almost thrilling for you to know that you’re doing something you shouldn’t - but if you remind Hongseok of that, there’s a chance he’s not on the same page.

Hongseok smiles at you with that drop-dead gorgeous grin he has, and you know that at least right now he’s content to have you like this, spread out on his bed and waiting for him to finish getting naked. And that’s enough for you to decide to let the whole thing go and just enjoy living in the moment. You’re not going to ruin this by worrying.

As soon as he drops his pants, he’s on you again, like he couldn’t stand another second of distance from you. Hongseok’s mouth peppers your chest with kisses as a hand snakes beneath your back to unclasp your bra. He frees you from the garment, and his mouth eagerly wraps around one of your nipples, tonguing it and sucking gently.

“Bite it,” you plead, and he very willingly does as you ask. His teeth pinch your nipple, and you nearly cry out because it feels so good.

The last time you and Hongseok hooked up, you might have taken all the time in the world to get to explore each other’s bodies, but you could tell tonight would not be that way. You’ve both waited long enough for this dam to break and you need him so desperately.

You tug on his hair and he roughly palms you through your underwear, rushed and eager. After just a few moments he pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers across your slickness. You’re so wet for him already.

He aggressively plunges one finger inside of you, practically shuddering at the way you moan when he does. He pumps a few times before slipping in another finger.

Then he pulls away from you. “Don’t move.” He goes over to his closet, and pulls down a box of condoms from the shelf. You smile, and then become quickly distracted as he pulls off his boxer briefs, his hard cock grabbing your attention. 

He rolls on the condom and yanks you to the edge of the bed, slipping off your panties before bringing your legs to rest on his shoulders. He lines up the head of his cock with your pussy and presses inside of you, covering your legs with kisses and bites as his hips buck into yours.

It’s absolutely incredible and you’re so full with every thrust. His hips snap wildly into you and you moan, loving every second of this. Pure pleasure shoots through you, and then you fucking open your eyes.

It’s easy for you to just screw your eyes shut when you’re having sex, because closing your eyes lets you focus more on the pleasure that you feel. But when you look up to see Hongseok staring down at you with those sharp eyes of his, his rough fingers digging into your thighs, his abdominal muscles flexing every time his cock disappears inside of you… how could you not allow yourself to watch?

“You’re so fucking hot, oh my God…” The words come out against your will, but the deadly smirk on his lips makes you not regret it.

“I know.”

Cue the eyeroll. “And still a cocky little shit.”

“I might be.” Hongseok pulls your legs down so that they fall to either side of his waist, and he leans down over you, his lips brushing your ear. It’s clear that he’s not affected by the insult, and judging by the way the pace of this thrusting increases, you can only assume that he’s trying to prove his worth.

His forearms scoop under your upper back and his hands cradle your head as he fucks you, his kisses overwhelming your senses. You slip a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, and you moan against his mouth.

Pleasure burns through your body, your heart racing with each kiss, each thrust. The only thought in your head is the repeated chant of more, more, more, I need more. His cock slides deliciously in and out of you, completely covered in your wetness, but it isn't enough. Your fingers tirelessly press circles into your clit, but it isn't enough. You need more.

"Hongseok…" You mewl his name when he finally comes up for air. 

His eyelids hang heavily as he hovers over you. "_____…"

Fuck, he's so beautiful. It steals your breath away to see him looking at you like this, breathing hard as he pounds into you. His gaze is possessive, like he's finally claimed you, and you honestly wouldn't mind calling yourself his. But that's neither here nor there. 

You forcefully clench around him, squeezing his cock with all you've got. He certainly notices - he hisses as his eyes pinch shut at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around his cock. His deep groan sends a shiver down your spine.

Hongseok’s voice is low as he says, “Christ, you feel so good.”

You don’t know what to say, or if you should even say anything. Hongseok’s expression is so serious as he locks eyes with you, like he’s genuinely lost in your gaze. It’s intimidating, yet it makes your heart race in the most incredible way.

You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, noting how easily the soft strands slip between your fingers and how his whole face softens at the touch. Hongseok’s eyes close as he leans into your hand, enjoying the gentle intimacy.

He slows the pace of his thrusting until he’s languidly rolling into you, his arm muscles bulging beneath you as he holds himself up. You move your hand to cup his face, and he presses a kiss to your palm, never breaking eye contact.

Fuck. You remember exactly why it was so easy to pretend like you were in love that first night.

Your fingers trace over his cheekbone, his jaw, his lips, remembering the excitement of exploring him for the first time. This time feels so different - it’s a weird combination of a dangerous thrill and caution. It’s impossible to remove from your mind the fact that you really shouldn’t be doing this - you’re too overwhelmed by wanting him to pay much attention to the rules of reality.

But you see it on his face, too. The trepidation, the hesitation, and the incredible amount of desire that overrides everything else. 

As if Hongseok can tell that you’re beginning to overthink, he presses another kiss to your hand and gives you an easy smile. Softly, he murmurs, “It’s just you and me tonight.”

Aaaannnnddddd suddenly you’ve melted into a complete puddle.

“Just you and me,” you echo. 

Hongseok lowers himself, meeting your lips with another passionate kiss. You grab hold of his hair and return each kiss, moaning quietly as he picks up his pace ever so slightly. His tongue slides between your lips as your hand returns to your clit, electric pleasure pulsing through you once more.

You are absolutely content to stay here all night, trapped in his embrace with his cock thrusting deep inside of you with every movement. You don’t want a single centimeter of space between you and him. 

When you’re both breathing too hard to kiss properly, his mouth travels down to your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along your throat. Every swipe of his tongue draws a quiet cry from you, and you clench your muscles around his cock to return the pleasurable favor. 

You hear a deep moan from him, confirmation that you’re making him feel good, too. It’s like music to your ears; all you want is for him to feel good.

Instead of continuing to touch yourself, you use both hands to scrape the short tips of your fingernails down his back to elicit more sounds from him. And then you cup his ass and encourage him to press harder, deeper. And you keep clenching.

“Jesus Christ,” Hongseok mutters. He’s unraveling in your hands. You can feel it.

“What is it, Hongseok?” You play dumb, letting out a sweet moan just a moment after posing your question.

“You keep squeezing me…” Hongseok’s breath is shaky, and part of you loves seeing him so affected by you. “It feels so good, fuck.”

Digging your fingernails into his ass cheeks, you ask, “Do you want to cum?”

You clench around him again right as he’s about to answer. “Aaahhh… fuck, oh my God.” He looks up at you with the slightest smile on his face. “What are you doing to me?”

“Making sure you feel good.” You smile coyly at him. “Is it working?”

“Yes. Fuck.” Hongseok lets out a short laugh.

Boldly, you ask, “Why don’t you cum for me then? Let me see you cum...”

“Is that what you want?”

“Mhm.” You nod, smiling.

Hongseok lowers his lips to your ear. “Alright, sweetheart.”

The nickname shocks your core - you don’t know why you’re such a sucker for it. You’re inclined to believe that just about anyone could call you sweetheart and immediately have you begging to be fucked. 

What strikes you, though, is the slight difference you sense between hearing the nickname from Yanan versus Hongseok. When Yanan called you sweetheart, it felt sleazy, like he knew what kind of power it would hold and he wasn’t afraid to use it. That was hot in its own right. But when Hongseok calls you sweetheart, it feels strangely gentle and warm. Maybe it’s because of the way he holds you as he says it, the way his breath sweetly breezes past your ear. There’s something undeniably lovely about Hongseok, especially when he’s got you in his bed.

You press your lips to his temple, small moans coming from you as he keeps thrusting. The stretch of his cock feels absolutely amazing, and you’re completely captivated by every sensation - the rolling of his hips, the grip of his hand in your hair, the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne.

With another clench of your pussy around his cock, you sense him hold back a moan, like he’s trying to hide just how easy it is for you to elicit a response from him. But at this point, you can’t be fooled. He’s so enamored by you that he couldn’t even let you reach the front door. And that fact is absolutely going to go to your head. 

Hongseok loses himself in you, thrusting into you and biting your neck, sucking your skin harshly and drawing a pleasured cry from you. It feels like he wants to absolutely devour you. If you could give him any more of yourself, you absolutely would. 

His breathing becomes ragged and you know that means he’s close. You card your fingers through his hair and whisper his name, and Hongseok lifts his head up to gaze down at you. His eyelids are heavy with lust, his lips parted from breathing hard. 

“_____…” Hongseok murmurs your name, his eyes pinching shut. Your eyes just skim over his face, taking in his gorgeous expression. His hips snap into you a few more times until he empties into the condom, and it’s just as incredible to watch as you remember.

Hongseok almost immediately dives in for another kiss as soon as he finishes. You eagerly reciprocate, still in need of your own release. His lips are devastatingly soft and you don’t think you’ll ever get over it.

Without leaving your lips, he lifts himself off of you, allowing his hand to roam over your curves. You feel terribly empty when he pulls out, but his cock is quickly replaced by his fingers. You groan against his mouth as his fingers gently pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles into your clit.

Finally, he releases your lips, and without a word he repositions himself on the bed so that he’s kneeling between your legs, pressing fervent kisses to your thighs. The teasing doesn’t last long, though - surely he can sense how desperate you are for more.

His mouth quickly moves to your pussy, gently kissing and licking your folds while his fingers continue gliding in and out. And then he finally reaches your clit, and your whole body warms with pleasure.

Hongseok’s tongue is wet and hot as it works your clit, and he looks so fucking hot between your legs like this. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You don’t dare to hold yourself back, moaning freely to let him know just how amazing he is at going down on you. With each suck, each flick of his tongue, you become more unraveled, the tension in your belly growing astoundingly fast.

You curse under your breath, wishing you could just enjoy this forever. Hongseok’s hand roughly grips your thigh, calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. His mouth sends waves of pleasure through your body. And on top of it all, your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, making you believe there’s a chance this could possibly be something special.

Hongseok’s fingers pulse in time with his tongue, and before you know it the coil snaps. Your entire body tightens and releases as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful warmth racing through your veins. Wave after wave hits you, and Hongseok presses a flat tongue against your clit as you ride it out, and the walls of your pussy rhythmically squeeze his fingers.

It seems like a solid minute of pure bliss before the feeling eventually fades. Hongseok retracts his fingers and lips, and he takes a moment to tie off the condom and toss it into the trash can next to his dresser. And then Hongseok joins you on the bed, wrapping you in his strong arms as sleep tugs at your eyelids.

You wake up unbearably hot, and it doesn’t take you long to realize why. You’re completely pressed up against Hongseok’s naked body, and that man is a radiator.

You smile at his sleeping face for only a moment before you start to fill with dread.

You hadn’t meant to spend the night, but you did.

You hadn’t meant to sleep with your professor, but you did.

It was an accident the first time. This time is completely inexcusable.

What were you thinking? How could you have let any of this happen? You’re fully aware of the consequences and yet you slept with him anyway. And you spent the night.

You peel yourself off of him. He seems to be a heavy sleeper and he doesn’t notice the movement, thank God. You hurry out of the bedroom, pulling on your clothes as you find them on the floor until you’re dressed enough to head out. And right as you reach the stairs, you hear him.

“_____?”

You pause. Of course you couldn’t just slip out unnoticed. 

But you have to leave. You don’t want to talk to him about any of this right now. You’re up to your eyes in anxiety and you just need to get out. You can’t even muster up the courage to turn around and see if he’s out of bed.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all you can think to say as you rush down the stairs and out the door.

The three hour train ride to get you home is too long for you to be left alone with your own thoughts. The fact that your jacket smells like Professor Yang’s cologne certainly doesn’t help. You replay last night’s events over and over in your mind, partly thrilled by the memory of sleeping with him and partly disappointed in yourself for your bad decision-making.

Last night was incredible. Spending time with Professor Yang at his showcase was actually really fun, and you have a new admiration for his talents and intelligence. Chatting with him in the car was so comfortable. And the way he fucked you…

You bury your face in your hands and lean towards the window of the train, hiding because you’re embarrassed to be having such lewd thoughts in public. You pull your turtleneck collar a little higher just to make sure the lovely hickey he left is appropriately hidden.

What are you going to do when you see him in class after break? Just pretend like nothing is going on as per usual, you assume. 

And what does this mean for everything with Kino? You’re supposed to be spending this short vacation thinking about what kind of future you want with him, not figuring out whether you regret an undoubtedly terrible choice you just made.

And Wooseok… you haven’t even addressed the fact that you were supposed to be at his place last night instead of Professor Yang’s. He hasn’t reached out to you either, so you assume that he was too drunk to remember your plans.

You’re going to have to dump all of this on Minseo as soon as you see her at the train station, since she’s the only one in the world who knows what happened between you and Professor Yang this summer. And honestly, you’re not sure if she’s going to be thrilled or pissed by what you’ve done.

You spend most of the train ride trying to distract yourself with music and a book, and by the time you arrive you actually start to feel excited about seeing Minseo. You tuck your book back into your backpack, grab your suitcase from the front of the train car, and step off of the train. The platform is full of other disembarking passengers, and you assume she must be waiting inside the station’s lobby. 

You pull out your phone as you roll your suitcase towards the lobby, and you’re surprised to see that she hasn’t responded to your text confirming what time she needed to be here to pick you up. That’s not necessarily a bad sign, but it’s not promising. You decide to try calling her, but she doesn’t answer. 

“I swear to God, if you forgot about me…” You seethe an empty threat at your phone as you hang up.

And then you hear your name called over the rumbling of your suitcase next to you. It’s a voice that you never in a million years expected to find here at this train station.

Your eyes dart around the room until you finally locate him, your heart completely stopping and your stomach dropping to the floor. 

He’s actually here. Right in front of you.

Your brother is here.

“Jinho?”

POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 10, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!

UPDATE | Read Part 10 here!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © GWENTORYFICS. NO TRANSLATIONS, REPOSTING, AND/OR MODIFYING OF THE MATERIAL IS ALLOWED WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION.

[willow-salix]

Fluffember Prompt: Toy

Big massive thanks to the awesome @myladykayo​ for jumping in and writing this for me while I rest.

Day 20 of isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

 Kayo here... I was “convinced” to write this update by Scott...

 “Witchy has never skipped a day before in her isolation updates. We can’t let her down when she’s sick and needs her rest,” he said, using the pity card like one waves a white flag around.

“Then why don’t you write it? You’re her best friend,” I protested.

I’m not a writer. I don’t have Gordon’s knack for storytelling and exaggeration, or Alan’s naivete about life that makes his stories amusing. Scott is used to telling his brothers bedtime stories from when they were younger. Let him do it.

“I have to do office stuff...”

And then, he dared. He smiled his dimpled smile that no one on Earth and beyond can resist, except perhaps for Alan’s zombies and dead people.

“Office stuff.” I tried to sound unimpressed but to my greatest shame, I’m not impervious to the Dimple King’s magical powers and my resolve was already fading. I can’t say I’m very proud of that.

“I can’t postpone it... Please?”

He knows, the traitor. He fluttered his eyelashes, putting damsels in distress to shame and waited.

I do like Witchy and I do want to help her because she’s taking the burden of those idiots off of me when she’s here, so I caved in... I rolled my eyes at him and made sure my face showed how annoyed at him I was. “Fine, but you owe me now.”

“Deal,” he said. We shook hands and he sauntered away toward his office.

***

 Witchy was upstairs, resting (or trying to) and the others were relatively calm in the lounge, which is always a little suspicious. Personally, I would have gone to the training room to lift some weights or do a few fan forms, but I felt I shouldn’t wander off too far in case someone needed a reminder not to go and bother her. I was pondering about catching up on my reading or doing some office work when Virgil arrived from the hangars holding a flat box. “I was doing some cleaning and found a bin of old toys… Remember that game, John?” he asked, putting the box on the lounge table.

The box was faded and something told me that it was old enough to be not only from when the boys were kids and before I arrived on the island, but before that when Jeff was young. Why he kept some of those things, I had no idea. The garish yellow colour was an assault to the eyes in itself, and the silly-looking man pictured there didn’t improve things, nor were the bold red letters forming the word Operation.

John glanced up from his tablet and smiled. “Alan used to stick the tweezers on the edge and let the buzzer ring to no end until dad stopped him and gave him something else to do,” he said.

“Gordon used to tap rhythms and songs with the tweezers,” Virgil added.

“Did Jeff stop him and give him something else to do?” I asked.

“He’d wait for dad to be off with Alan to do it.”

“Then Scott would slap him upside the head,” John finished.

I barely managed not to roll my eyes. I can’t say I was surprised.

Alan opened the box and peered inside. “It requires batteries,” he commented, taking everything out.

Virgil went to fetch some in Jeff’s desk.

“Are you sure about this?” John asked.

Virgil shrugged. “It’s one way to pass time.” He smiled. “Afraid you lost your touch?”

“Not at all. I’m trying to spare you from a crushing defeat.”

All Tracys are competitive. All of them. Even quiet, suspectless John.

“Did I hear crushing defeat? I’m here for the show,” Gordon exclaimed, appearing from nowhere and eying the game on the table. “Wanna play, Kayo?”

I laughed. “No. I’ll take a seat in the peanut gallery,” I said, settling down in my usual launch seat. “I can handle the bank if you want.”

Let them ridicule themselves. I took the pile of false notes from him and Virgil distributed the specialist cards between the four brothers.

“So how do you play?” Alan asked.

“You pick a card and try to remove the part indicated on it. If you succeed, Kayo will pay you. If you fail, whoever has the specialist card can have a go and earn twice the amount if he succeeds. Whoever has the most money at the end wins.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

I saw the exchange between Virgil and Gordon and I think John’s mouth quirked. Nothing was simple with them. Not even children’s games. Why do you think I was sitting away from them?

They let Alan have a go at first. He picked Water on the Knee and successfully removed the plastic bucket. It was handed to me so that I could pay accordingly. John picked the Wish Bone, but as he positioned his hand over the board, Gordon leaned over and began singing close to his brother’s ear to try and distract him. John declared his tactic amateurish and also succeeded.

Apparently, the unspoken rules Tracy version of the game was to try and distract whoever was playing so that they failed. This included John shouting “Look out!” at Gordon at the last moment, Gordon imitating the buzzer sound each time Virgil approached the tweezers from the board, Alan—who caught on very quickly—inching his fingers close to the board as if he was going to rattle it when John had another go and Virgil fully integrating his youngest brother to the game by whispering something to him, which earned him a reply that I can’t write here.

The rowdy game was fully underway when Scott stepped into the lounge. “What are you guys doing? I can hear you all the way from the office,” he complained.

“We’re playing Operation,” Alan replied.

Scott seemed surprised. “I didn’t even know we still had that. I thought you took it apart when you were ten to see how it worked, Virg?”

“And put it back together. Wasn’t that hard.”

“Want to join us?” Alan invited him.

Scott seemed to hesitate. “I still have things to do and I should go back.”

I had to bite my lip to hold back my laughter when someone—and I think it was Virgil!—clucked like a chicken. And as expected, Scott took the bait. He sat down next to John while I was handed back all of the money and the specialist cards were gathered and redistributed.

“Hey, you can’t reset it, I was winning!” Gordon protested.

“You were not. I had $100 more than you,” Alan stated.

Gordon huffed, put the pieces back inside their respective spots, then couldn’t resist playing “Shave and a Haircut” with the buzzer. Scott’s reaction was instantaneous and he reached out to slap the back of his brother’s head twice without even missing a beat.

They all played a first round with varying degrees of success. Watching them play was more entertaining than actually playing. I began mentally assigning scores to their distraction tactics.

When it was his turn, Scott picked Writer’s cramp. The irony of the situation was not lost on me and I fought my better judgement for a whole two seconds before I decided to make a move—I am a Tracy at heart after all... I carefully shifted my weight as he concentrated and extended my arm... then at the last moment, I poked his armpit in that one location I know will tickle him then hurried to sit back straight with my bank notes in my hand and an innocent expression on my face.

He squawked like an offended seagull, hit the side of the game and made it buzz, then looked at the nearest brother accusingly. When said brother stopped laughing long enough to say it wasn’t him, he directed his suspicious eyes at me and I’m rather proud to say that I could keep a straight face and raised an eyebrow at him in return.

John was next. He picked a card... the bread basket. He took the tweezers from Scott’s hand and didn’t even try to be careful and made the game buzz in less than a second.

“HA!” Alan hooted out.

“You didn’t have to play if you didn’t want to anymore,” Virgil side-whispered to him.”

“Oh no, I’m playing,” he assured him, then took one of the specialist cards in front of him and flicked it between his long fingers before handing it to me.

He manoeuvred the tweezers with surgical precision, ignoring Gordon’s heavy breathing in his ear, and dropped the plastic slice of bread into my hand. “I believe that is $2000,” he said with a smug smile.

“Show off,” Virgil muttered good-naturedly while I counted the paper slips and gave them to John.

“My turn,” Gordon said, reaching for a card, “It says... butterflies in the stomach.”

The four others froze more or less visibly and Scott gave me a quick side-eye. He remembered the Venom incident, my aversion for the fluttery little creeps and how I made him pay for laughing at me. I ignored him and winked at Gordon. Surprisingly, he had been my hero at the time and I’ll never forget that. But that’s a story for another time.

Gordon extracted the item from the board without touching the edges. “Once again, I prevailed,” he claimed triumphantly, flicking the plastic butterfly in the air and catching it a few times.

I handed him two $100 notes and of course, Gordon being Gordon tried to take them while the game piece was still in the air. He failed, the plastic butterfly ricocheted off his elbow and landed somewhere under the furniture.

Little items like that never land where you expect them, especially on carpet, especially when bouncing off sharp Tracy elbows (I think we can all agree that they are not lumpy, Lady Penelope’s flirting techniques need a little improvement). I refused to join in on the search because, of course, too many people were there already and I was more helpful sitting in my seat with my legs crossed out of the way.

Gordon looked under the table, then moved on to the little shelf where my father’s bonsai tree and Lady Penelope’s communicator picture are located. He peered underneath, sneezed loudly, then backtracked in horror.

Screeching like a banshee, he rushed out of the seating area and fled toward the kitchen, nearly knocking over poor Witchy who stood at the top of the stairs.

“I go fight a lurgy for an hour, take a moment to get something to drink and this is what I come back to?” she said, visibly unimpressed by the sight of four Tracy butts in the air around the lounge table as they scanned the carpet.

I had to disagree with her on that, it was a rather interesting sight.

“Why is he even screaming like that, he sounds like he’s seen a ghost?” Gordon could be heard sneezing somewhere in the background and she rolled her eyes.

She strode to where he had been crouching and bent down and sighed. “Just as I thought... Scott, you forgot to close the office door again,” she said, reaching out and picking up Buddy the bearded dragon from his hiding spot before he scampered away.

She removed the plastic butterfly from his mouth and cradled him close. “I don’t want a repeat of last time when I had to get him in the vent—”

Witchy’s eagle eye spotted the twitch in John’s face instantly and he held her gaze, doing his own version of the Tracy smile to placate her. They did that fascinating wordless exchange established couples seem to be able to do for a moment and then, she then turned to me, noticed the fake bank notes in my hands and threw me a disappointed: “You’re encouraging them?”

I immediately pointed at John to defend myself. “He’s winning,” I said.

“If I draw brain freeze, I’ll be able to get you a lifetime supply of socks that don’t roll down. Think about it,” he deadpanned.

She looked at us as if we had lost our minds—she might be right—then stormed off with the dragon.

I guess I should go check on Gordon now.  And probably make a new batch of soup as a peace offering.

Author’s note: Shave and a Haircut is what “that knock on the door” is called.

[halothenthehorns]

THE DEMENTORS KISS

Lily looked like she could get up and kiss him at that kind of news! While it would never not sting to forever realize she wasn't going to be there for her boy, the fact that he had Sirius for him there now was the best second thing she could hope for! She was the only one who had really registered the news though.

Remus was still lost in thought, kicking himself into a grave and getting cold all over because he had seen that look Harry had given him at his exclamation, and he knew quite well what it meant. Even though Harry couldn't say it out loud, Remus would never forgive himself if the rat really did get away because of him.

James looked like he wanted to be happy, he tried for the feeling, and it was certainly there on the level Sirius was suggesting, but something was holding him back. Of course he was ecstatic, he'd do anything in the world for Harry to get away from the Dursleys. Sirius would do a great job taking care of Harry...so why did he feel something foreign and not at all pleasant at the thought?

Sirius clearly didn't notice as Harry tossed him the book, he looked more than happy to take it, looking like he'd sing it to the heavens the justice and triumph he was feeling, but was cut off by Lily.

Lily was shocked that she was the one to notice the time, and deciding to linger on whatever good mood this would afford them for as long as possible, she offered, "why don't we eat."

The boys looked scandalized, and some private part of Lily would have laughed at this, but she insisted her point, "I want to see him being turned in as much as anyone, but it's about time for the baby's lunch, and I'd rather pause now when we've got some good timing."

They didn't look happy, but no one argued the point either. The boys ate probably the lightest lunch they'd ever had in their life, food was the last thing on their mind after everything they'd just lived through, but forced down a bit each to at least get rid of some of Lily's worry lines. No one brought up Remus' condition again, it was a sore enough subject already and they would just have to deal with it after this nightmare book was done, there couldn't be too much left.

The baby was fed and then put back in his playpen for a while longer, none of them wanted him in the room so long as the rat was going to be mentioned. Sirius went back and picked up the book and properly got to reading, still forcing a light feeling into his voice at what he wanted to hear, rather than the worry lingering he knew they all felt.

Harry followed the group along with Crookshanks in the lead, Pettigrew in between Ron and Lupin all chained together, then Snape floating along held aloft by his own wand, being supported by Sirius.

Sirius still adored every last drop of irony reading that caused him.

Snape's head was currently being dragged along the ceiling, scraping it raw, but Harry got the feeling Black wasn't trying to stop that.

Lily wanted to roll her eyes at this childish display, but after everything they'd just gone through she couldn't even find it in herself to do that as all four boys gave little snickers at that mental image.

Black turned his attention to Harry though, showing a lot more interest as he asked him if he understood what this could mean, turning Pettigrew in?

"It's not going to be much fun if you point it out every few minutes," James mumbled, and while Sirius gave him a confused look for how odd James sounded, he put it down to any lingering feelings he had about bringing up the rats name. He didn't feel much better, but knew he'd chant that putrid name for an hour if it would get Harry out of the Dursleys.

Harry agreed that would mean Sirius could go free, but Sirius also added on that he wasn't sure if anyone had ever told Harry, he was also his godfather.

"Well no one ever technically told me, I just sort of found out," Harry couldn't help but give a little smirk, happy to see everyone did the same back. Maybe he was just being paranoid, surely nothing too bad was going to ruin this mood again so soon.

Harry agreed he'd heard, and Black sounded fairly unsure as he pointed out that as such a title he had been expected to take care of Harry should anything happen to his parents. Harry at first wasn't sure what that could mean, so Black kept going by saying he'd of course understand that Harry would much rather stay with his aunt and uncle,

Harry laughed, but he was the only one who did. It was such a ludicrous sentence that he found it the appropriate reaction, but the others were still so foul tempered about everything that they half wished before Sirius properly took Harry in he'd make a visit to those Dursleys and show a bit more of that violent edge he'd displayed.

but if ever he wanted another option...

Remus couldn't help but burst out laughing now when he realized Sirius had only known Harry for five minutes, and this was the first real question he asked him! It was made all the funnier under these circumstances, but he sobered out very quickly as he vividly remembered that his own self may prevent this and more from happening.

Harry felt something bombard his innards, stumbling and cracking his own head on the ceiling as he blurted out he could leave the Dursleys!

Sirius couldn't help a snort of amusement, he knew he understood now far better than he would have then Harry's reaction to this.

Black took that reaction the wrong way, trying to retract he had no problems if Harry wanted to stay there, but Harry cut him off by demanding to know when he could move in!

Which gave them all a good laugh. Harry had only learned five minutes ago that Sirius wasn't some insane murderer intent on killing him, but it became all the more depressing when they realized just how bad Harry's life there must really be if he instantly said yes to the first person who offered. It was quite a terrifying idea to imagine for a moment, some stranger so easily could have kidnapped their little boy...but that hadn't happened of course, and they spent enough time dwelling on horrid stuff of late.

Harry had a goofy smile on his face, he looked as pleased as anyone at this prospect and clung to the image already forming in his head desperately, refusing to admit that he wasn't getting any real feelings about this becoming true. He also wouldn't meet anyone's eyes right then, the last thing he wanted was for someone to ask for details about why he was so eager to get out of there.

Black turned then to properly look at Harry, Snape's head now being left to smash repeatedly against the ceiling.

That set them into giggling maniacs all over again, they wanted more than anything to spend the next set of years listening to Harry's life like this with no concerns about the Dursleys, which with any luck Harry may well confide about to Sirius.

He was smiling down at Harry, a true genuine look that drained ten years off of his malnourished face and for the first time Harry got a glimpse of that picture he'd seen of him at his parents' wedding.

James blanched, he still couldn't picture that, didn't want to. He glanced at his brother's face now and saw him beaming with pride and it looked the most natural thing in the world, he just couldn't understand how ten years would make him hardly recognizable...and he just kept remembering whose fault it was.

They didn't speak anymore as they climbed out of the tree, Crookshanks had darted ahead and froze it for them. Harry could see ahead Pettigrew was still breathing extra hard and still letting out little sad noises.

Sirius hadn't believed it possible, but he only read that with three quarters amount of hatred rather than all consuming. He was still too busy happily picturing in his head he and Harry getting to have all the moments properly in the future like they were right now.

Harry was the happiest he'd been in his life, realizing he could finally leave the Dursley's, he was going to live with Sirius, one of his dad's old friends! What would the Dursleys say when he told them he was going to live with that escaped prisoner they'd heard about last summer?

Lily cracked up laughing hardest of all, they all remembered making jokes about wanting that convict to come make a visit to those Dursleys, and now their wish was coming true in the best way possible!

Lupin still had his wand out, covering Pettigrew and threatening him if he twitched in a way he didn't like he'd regret it. The procession continued towards the castle, when the clouds began to shift, and the moon shone above.

Sirius refused to acknowledge what that could mean, though he more than anyone should know better. He just couldn't do it though, not now! Timing must be on their side, just this once, that the full moon wouldn't peak and Remus would...

Remus went rigid at once, his face going an almost scary white, coupled with just how terrible he looked since he was going to transform this night he looked likely to keel over any second.

James and Sirius couldn't stand that, James going back over to his friend and sitting down on his side to put him in-between him and Sirius as he comforted, "hey, relax Moony, we're all do for a bit of good luck, I'm sure nothing happens."

Remus either couldn't, or wouldn't answer, flapping his hand and silently demanding Sirius go on so he could get his real answer.

Snape rammed into the three of them, because Black froze in place, forcing Harry and Hermione to stop as well as they all watched Lupin, who was beginning to shake.

Remus began hyperventilating at once, he'd been so stressed for so long that this really was too much. He couldn't see anything, couldn't make out any words, his nightmare was coming to life and oh he was well aware it was going to happen again tonight and he was probably going to kill Lily and Harry then, just like he probably killed everyone out there that night as well...

"James, we have to do something," Lily tried desperately to keep her voice from shrieking levels as she danced in place watching Remus shake all over, looking like he had fallen into a seizure and clearly not aware of anything. "He's going to hurt himself!" She felt so useless and desperate she may well be heading towards her own panic attack soon.

Sirius tried to say in an analytical tone of voice, rather than how frustrated he felt he couldn't seem to get through to Remus, "most likely he'll pass out here in a few minutes from oxygen deprivation."

"That's not helping," James ground out, trying to ignore the fact that Remus was folding in on himself and would have long since face planted the table if James wasn't holding onto him.

"Couldn't you use that potion on him, the one you used on me earlier to make me relax," Harry tried, not wanting to wait for a response and go get it now, but he wasn't sure where it was.

"Wouldn't work on him," Lily moaned, logic nearly lost as it was taking everything in her not to do something similar.

James and Sirius were still alternating back and forth trying to calm him down in smooth, reassuring tones. Sadly this wasn't even the first time they'd seen this happen to him, he'd acted like this a few times when he'd first woken up and seen how badly he'd harmed them when they'd first began their monthly transformations with him. Despite their scholarly research, it had taken them ages to convince him his bites wouldn't harm them so long as they were animals, and even then he was left gasping and guilt ridden at how deep some of their scars were. The only thing that ever worked in breaking him out of these was just to let him wear it out, keep talking to him and remind him it wasn't that bad, and try to keep the blood out of sight.

This time all of that was a little harder to pull off, because of how worried they were for the kids. Harry clearly hadn't been bitten, but what about Ron or Hermione? Ron was literally chained up to Remus, without a leg to run on, but Moony would break out of those in seconds and turn on either him or the rat. It would be true irony indeed if the second were to happen, and the rat lost his life to Moony, but for now they were more concerned with convincing him he wasn't going to hurt anyone.

Finally Sirius' prediction seemed to have come true, Remus slumped completely as he lost the fight for air, but he seemed to snap out of it quick enough as he jacked back upright and crashed into Sirius' nose.

"Ouch," Sirius grumbled, rubbing at the spot and grumbling this was a terrible time to be paying him back for that, but one wild look around and Remus realized what was happening and he nearly started all over again.

"Wait, Remus please, calm down," Lily quickly jumped in, trying to catch his eye. "No bites, see you didn't attack him-"

"Or anyone," Harry quickly added on, before hissing in pain as white spots flashed across his eyes for remembering that too soon.

That one little action gave Remus a shot of here and now, seeing Harry in pain was as vivid a reminder as he could get, but it was the comfort he needed. He trusted his friends, and Sirius and James were going to be there for him tonight to make sure he never did this, and Sirius was even there for him then to make sure of the same thing.

It didn't seem to help for long though, as almost at once he began having another spaz attack.

"Moony," Sirius groaned, he'd seen him relax for an actual second and they'd been sure he'd calmed down, what had made him relapse?

"Sirius, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, glory if I actually-" Remus had his eyes screwed tight shut and kept shaking his head back and forth, intermittently muttering, "I am going to kill him," in between apologizing.

It took a moment for the others to catch up and realize why he'd be doing this, and then Sirius gripped his arm so hard there was likely to be a bruise as he hissed, "you don't get to blame yourself for one second for whatever that rat does. If he makes a run for it, Merlin help it, if he gets away, it is not your fault. You couldn't have stopped him then anymore then you could stop him all those years ago from deciding to become an animagus. I hung back to talk to Harry, but Hermione couldn't have done it either, there should have been one of us up there covering him. You don't get to blame yourself for anything he does."

Remus still looked miserable, so they couldn't decide how much of that he'd taken to heart, but he didn't look like he was going to argue the point, so that had to count for something, right?

They didn't really want to at this point, just so sick and tired of everything that could go wrong would, but them hearing about it wasn't going to change what did happen. Harry lived through it, and that was the most important thing to all of them, so despite the fact that Remus wanted to curl up into a hole and never come out, he didn't protest either as James and Sirius convinced Lily and Harry to sit back down so Sirius could find out what really happened.

Hermione fearfully pointed out he hadn't taken his potion, he would be dangerous.

"Least someone admits it," Remus huffed, never understanding how these two, well four he corrected, could still defend him and stand by him even at his worst moments.

He received a very sharp smack from James having heard that, giving him a threatening look to make it clear he'd do worse if Remus didn't cut out the comments about himself. Neither he nor Sirius were delusional in thinking Remus wasn't dangerous at those times, but he wasn't this unbearable monster either like he tried to paint himself.

Black yelled at the two kids to run, but Harry wasn't going anywhere, watching Ron who was still chained up.

Harry's face was set now, fully saying he wasn't going anywhere when Ron was in danger, which gave them all yet another warm flood of happiness when they remembered all over again what good friends, pretty much family, those three were, and felt a terrible wince all over again when they couldn't say the same for their whole family anymore. They all really hoped this wouldn't start showing up every single time now, desperately hoping they could come to grips and the rat's betrayal would stop coming to mind every five seconds soon.

Harry tried to run forward, but Black threw him back and yelled at them to run, then he vanished, a black dog in place. Harry was still watching Lupin though, as dark fur began sprouting everywhere, his arms and legs were dipping on to the ground and sprouting claws.

Remus was still curling into himself in shame and disgust, he'd never had his transformations explained to him in such vivid detail and he just couldn't stand how calm Sirius was forcing himself to sound about it. How was he not disgusted, afraid, he'd been asking himself that his whole life and knew he could never understand when talking about a real life monster.

The werewolf howled, and tore itself free of the chains, but didn't get a second to do anything as the bear like dog caught him at the neck and began dragging him away.

Harry couldn't help but startle in remembered horror at these two doing this to each other. He'd only seen once before two street cats fighting in an alley, but even that hadn't been as brutal as when these two beasts went at it. He'd heard the term fur flying but never before had he understood how bad that could be, watching the literal flesh be pulled off of each other as at least one of them would have gone for a mortal blow.

The two canines went at each other, teeth and claws going wild.

Lily couldn't help but shrink into Harry, just a little bit. For obvious reasons she'd never been near Remus during this time, and her boys had never gone into such detail of how violent these nights could get. It certainly explained why more times than she could count the Marauders would show up with more than just Quidditch injuries, but no one had ever questioned it too deeply because of all the insane things they got up to. She regretted the action at once when she saw Remus flinch like she'd slapped him, and she wanted to apologize and insist she didn't mean it, it had just been shock, but Sirius hadn't noticed a thing and seemed determined not to stop until he got his answer of what happened to the rat during this mess. She still determined the second this was over she would have a proper talk with him, all three of these boys needed it.

Harry had been watching them, so he missed why at first Hermione started screaming, but then he turned and saw Pettigrew going for Lupin's dropped wand.

Remus was trying to get away from his two friends, trying to go back to his own corner of the room or something because he couldn't stand just sitting here and listening to not only taking a bite out of Sirius but how it was unarguably his damned fault that rat really was going to get away now!

Neither of them were still having it though, Sirius was multitasking by digging his elbow into Remus' ribs and reading loudly, trying to get to the part already where hopefully Harry came to his senses and tried to pin down the rat long enough the spell would wear off and he could be stunned again.

James now practically had Remus pinned to his side, all earlier anger at him forgotten and to be dealt with later. His annoyance Remus had turned on Sirius so easily was nothing compared to what Peter had done to him, and he was far more concerned now making sure Remus knew he could look past it, he would make amends to both of his brothers and keep them going just like they did for him every day in this unforgiving war.

Ron overbalanced and didn't have a chance as a shot of light hit him, and he fell.

Harry swore violently, making a move like he wanted to go for his own wand for anyone cursing his friend! His only comfort which he quickly told the others was that it had been a flash of red light, he'd only been stunned.

One more spell was let off towards Crookshanks, who also collapsed.

"Was the cat really necessary," Sirius grumbled to himself.

Harry finally got a spell off, Expelliarmus, and though Lupin's wand shot away and Harry ran forward, yelling at Pettigrew to stop, the man changed form and he was already running away on all fours as they reached Ron.

"No, no, no, no!" They all kept muttering in varying levels of hatred and shock. They still couldn't understand how he could do this to them, to Sirius! He was really running again, leaving Sirius in that exact same circumstance, leaving Harry to deal with an angry werewolf...just leaving like it meant nothing to him.

Sirius was only reading on autopilot now, he couldn't even find it in himself anymore to feel hopeful something good still worked itself out, just wanting to finish this already whatever the answer. He knew Remus was fine because Sirius wouldn't let him attack anyone, Moony would be his priority and he'd let the rat escape, and he couldn't bring it in himself to resent it. He cared more for Remus' sound mind when he came out of this then his own revenge, finally making the right decision. If he'd tracked down the rat once, he would do it again, now with Remus' help.

Harry spun around at the sounds of howling, and he watched as the werewolf made a shot for the forest.

Remus sighed in relief, not caring whatever he'd heard to drag him away, just thankful it was getting him away from Harry and those innocent kids. He wasn't nearly so forgiving of his actions this night, he'd hate himself no matter when the rat was recaught because he'd gotten away this time because of his own stupid, useless, life.

Harry shouted for Sirius, telling him that Pettigrew was making a run for it, and though bleeding from multiple wounds,

Sirius hardly sounded like he cared, he'd survived Azkaban for cripes sake, a couple of scratches shouldn't faze him for long.

Remus didn't hold nearly the same feelings at the news, but reflected it wasn't the worst thing he'd done to his friend recently.

and went charging in the direction the rat had disappeared in. Harry and Hermione turned their attention back to Ron, and though breathing, they weren't sure how to help him. Harry was looking desperately around, his eyes catching on Snape who was still floating there.

James released a violent noise, like he wanted to laugh about that all over again, but couldn't grasp the emotion, he was too caught up on other things. Lingering hatred and annoyance still clung in there as well at Snape even being there, he'd done nothing useful this whole night except to wrongly attack the friends he shouldn't be.

Harry suggested they went to the castle to get help, but then he heard a dog whimper.

Remus made a pretty good attempt at that sound now, thinking he'd gone back around and went for Padfoot again. The others didn't really agree, but trying to think up something else that would attack Sirius right now wasn't pleasant either. Had he chased the rat into the Forest or something?

Harry felt so bad for all of them he asked the first question that came to mind, "Why didn't he just leave the grounds in the first place, why did he hide out at Hagrid's?"

No one needed to ask which he Harry meant, as Harry realized it was hard enough hearing the name whenever it popped up in the book now.

James didn't really want to sit around and think about these things, but he wasn't going to deny his son either. "He was probably hoping Sirius would get caught again, and he could make a miraculous return to Ron, why leave his cushy life if he didn't have to." The terrible bitterness coloring his every syllable left no one wanting to add on further.

Harry muttered Sirius' name in fear, torn between staying and helping Ron, or running after Sirius who sounded like he was in trouble.

Sirius couldn't help a little bubbling of warmth, that Harry was already running off to help him like that, though he knew he didn't really want Harry anywhere near what was going on between him and the rodent.

Sirius won, as Harry realized there was nothing he could do for Ron and both he and Hermione went running to the lake, not taking notice of how cold it was getting...

Lily nearly screamed again, the sound was certainly trying to build up in her throat but kept getting lodged there. She couldn't help it though, she just wanted to scream as loud as she could 'no!' Over and over again until someone proved her wrong this wasn't about to happen! Not to Sirius, he'd been through so much already, he didn't deserve this!

Sirius either didn't notice, or didn't register why the others would be freaking out. Maybe he was still too intent on reading about catching the rat, maybe he was forcing his own denial, either way he kept going.

The sounds of the dog died off, and Harry was watching Sirius as a human.

There was a horrible beat of silence where Sirius froze up, trying to understand why he would do that, but he wouldn't let it last long, blinking past suddenly blurry vision to force out.

He was still on all fours, moaning 'no' as the dementors arrived.

"Why!" Harry yelped clearly startling them all badly, they'd each frozen up and gone into lockdown, strangled breathing a kind description, fear was doing so much to them, but Harry cracked and let out a stream of questions, "why did you change back! Why didn't you keep running? Why would you collapse, you've had years of being around them and you do this now!" His voice kept rising, anger bleeding into his tone, but as Sirius watched him he recognized it wasn't the actual rage at him, but for what Harry was well aware was fixing to happen to him. "Why didn't you just use a Patronus, surely you still had Snape's wand! Why-" he finally strangled himself off, just watching Sirius desperately. He somehow just knew that Sirius was in trouble, that he needed to save him, something went terribly wrong...

"Harry!" Lily finally got out, wanting to scold, but he just looked so desperate she couldn't find the right tone, she was more concerned than ever something really was fixing to happen to Sirius! The worst part was no one could find it in themselves to say anything. Harry's reaction really did lead them all to believe that Sirius was about to be Kissed, and they really couldn't stand that. Not after everything they just went through, getting the truth and then having it smashed down on their lives, they could not deal with the fact that Sirius would still take the fall in the end, leaving Harry like that.

They were all out of anger, they'd spent it out on the rat. Now they were just left feeling empty, scared, and desperate.

Harry couldn't help it though, hadn't even realized how loudly he'd been shouting because his wide green eyes just kept watching Sirius with horror and he knew he didn't want to lose him again!

Sirius was the first to come out of his shock, watching his little pup like that wrenched at every part of him and he'd do anything to get rid of that look, so he blurted out answers to his abundant questions, just for everyone else to hear him talk now, just so he could prove to himself he was still alive even if this was the last thing in the world he wanted to talk about. "I'm no expert on dementors, but I can tell you now that years of being around them only would have decreased my ability to fight them off, not the other way around. The shock of having been away from them for so many months, and then forced back around even one, would have shocked me so bad I'm not surprised if I lost my hold on being Padfoot and reverted." The silence continued, so he just kept talking, trying to fill a void that kept lingering in the room.

"Same reason I wouldn't have been able to produce a Patronus again, or kept running, or anything. It was probably a lot of shock. Not to mention if they really are there to Ki-" he stuttered out, even he couldn't say that with a straight face, but since they all knew what he meant he kept going in a forced relaxed voice like talking about his imminent death was Sunday brunch, "well that's two different things. A dementor gives off a powerful aura, their natural state is what causes the depression most people feel, but when they're set on doing, err, that other thing, it becomes ten times more powerful. Even I never would have been around that. Not to mention the realization that the rat escaped would have put me at an all-time low," he finished, unable to keep the sour filled disgust out of that last part.

Remus snapped first, pulling him into a tight hug despite Sirius' protest and grumbling, "would you let me go! I'm not dead yet, so quit acting like you're staring at my funeral! And if you even start apologizing, any of you, I will personally set out to make every last serious and dog pun in the world!"

"Padfoot that's just cruel," James whimpered, running his hand furiously against his eyes and unable to put any real emotion into his voice.

Sirius finally managed to wrestle himself away from Remus, giving the others a warning look in case they planned on doing the same. "Now I am going to finish this, and, and Harry's fine so that's-"

"That doesn't make this okay," Harry growled, still shaking terribly and looking ready to keep screaming any second. Maybe not at his godfather, but at something about all this injustice.

"You," Lily snapped, moving with lightning speed and snatching the book away, "are not reading that! None of you are."

"So glad you can," Sirius grumbled, not expecting Lily to smack him over the head with the book. "Ouch, what was that for!"

"Because you deserved it," Lily snapped right back, taking his momentary distraction at him rubbing his head to dash back to her seat and try to read, hoping that she could continue to smack him for fifty years to come, hoping that her doing this would distract him for the next seven books...and starting to run out of hope.

At least a hundred of them,

Well that distraction lasted all of six bleeding words! A hundred! It's no wonder Sirius had such a reaction! She really was doubting even she could do this. Hadn't they all suffered enough? Harry had heard both her and James' death, he'd had his life destroyed by one of James old friends, Remus had tried to attack him this night, and now Sirius was going to die! She still hadn't fully wrapped her head around the rat's betrayal, she'd accepted it, but she hadn't had time to process and think. She knew she was still in shock when she could think the words 'Sirius would no longer be around' and not burst into endless tears. All of this had come out in less than a year to Harry, less than two days for them, and she really wasn't sure how she could keep doing this. Then Harry wrapped an arm around her, his live warmth cutting through the worst of the cold and dread, and though she forced herself to keep going as fast as possible, like hearing the words slurring together would make it less painful to hear, she kept glancing up every other word to find the three boys huddled into each other. Still alive, still breathing, still here with her.

coming forward, encircling them. Harry yelled at Hermione to help him, latching onto the memory of Sirius telling him he was going to leave the Dursleys, to live with his godfather.

Sirius couldn't help a little jolt of shock. He was already Harry's happy memory? He remembered back to Harry choosing to leave the Dursleys and come to Hogwarts had produced his best Patronus, until that game where he'd summoned one, even around those fakes, and adrenaline and his love for the game had caused something even more substantial. Now Harry was trying to project another one in his defense, using him and his promise...and it wasn't going to be enough. Glory no wonder the kid had reacted so badly, he must blame himself! It was a miracle Harry and Hermione had even survived this night, dementors weren't known for their discretion. He was now just thanking his lucky stars Harry and Hermione hadn't been Kissed as well!

Then Sirius really looked at Harry, and realized he was actually crying now. He met Sirius' eyes for a second, then he got up and tried to storm away. Sirius pounced at once, grabbing his shoulder and trying to turn him back, and though he did turn back and face him he still screamed, "I could have saved you! You shouldn't have been there, you only were because of me!"

Sirius wasn't having that, growling right back, "you shut that trap kid. You don't get to feel guilty about this, the patronus just wasn't in your capability yet, nothing could have been done. I would have tracked that rat anywhere in the world and then come looking for you, this is his fault, not yours."

Harry couldn't help but wobble then, wondering what about that felt off... he lost it.

Sirius saw the indecision though, the hesitancy, so he kept going. "You were a thirteen year old kid, it was my job, my responsibility, my decision, and his fault. The world's a damned cruel place you had to watch this, but I'll stand here blue in the face till you realize this is Siriusly my problem."

Harry couldn't help it, that was so random he cracked and let out a weak little chuckle.

Looking quite pleased with himself, he nudged Harry back to his mother's side and soothed the room at large now, "that goes for all of you. You can cry at my funeral, so long as you make sure to get my best picture up there."

James' hand twitched, like he wanted to smack the living daylights out of Sirius for actually making jokes at a time like this, but he supposed it was all what they needed. Watching his brother use his vanity and name at a time like this was just so, Sirius. It gave them a shot of fresh air that what they kept reading was not set in stone. Harry must have come back to this time and place for a reason, they must be able to fix this!

Sirius took back his spot, except now in between his friends again, and eyed Lily expectantly. She shook her head at him, a look Sirius had seen practically his whole life of Lily Evans, well Potter now but that wasn't the point, exasperated at the Marauders and everything they did, but it was better than that dead eyed look of loss she'd held seconds ago. Sirius would ignore his own feelings on the matter, and keep babbling all he wanted to until this was done with.

Harry was forcing his mind to concentrate on Black,

Remus couldn't help but randomly wonder why Harry was still referring to Sirius by his last name. He recognized the look of consternation that crossed Sirius' face every time he heard it as well, that was still there right now in the middle of all this, which caused him to finally crack a smile. Maybe Sirius was exaggerating the face, maybe Remus just needed something to smile about before he lost himself, but that did it.

as he cried Expecto Patronum! Black gave one last shiver, but then he rolled over, pale as death.

Sirius was already starting to run out of things to say, recoiling along with the rest of them, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep it up when the moment came and his life was likely to flash across his eyes as surely now as it would then, and he could no longer look upon half of it with any kind of happiness because of the tainted person.

Harry refused to acknowledge that, insisting he was going to be fine and still shouting the spell over and over again, but the dementors were paying this no mind, still coming closer, and the screaming began in his head.

Lily was not stumbling through this as fast as she'd planned, the words kept getting jumbled together and she just knew she was going to vomit here in a second. The only thing still keeping her going was a near constant glance up at the black haired youth, sitting next to her husband. When he caught sight of her staring he put on such a brave face she had no choice but to smile until she kept going.

Only a small bit of silver came out to protect them, and Hermione passed out without even doing that, and Harry was left alone.

Again! Again, and again, and again, Harry just kept getting left on his own to deal with these things, it always felt like he was abandoned at the worst of times, now Sirius was the cause of it!

Sirius finally lost any last drop of comfort he was going for in sake of the others, now wanting to hurry the process up and just greet the Reaper by this point he felt so ashamed.

Harry wasn't quitting though, still saying the spell over and over again, but then one dementor passed through his feeble patronus, and it began to lower its hood.

Sirius swore violently and scrambled to his feet in a real life panic now. All of them were when they realized that thing was going to Kiss Harry! The dementors were acting on orders about attacking Sirius, it didn't make them hate them any less, but if there was one thing to kick them from misery to fire tempered protection it was Harry being in trouble.

What could they do though, what could anyone do? The only living person they could have counted on for help was running around in the Forbidden Forest, Remus wouldn't even realize what was happening until morning, and what could a werewolf do against a dementor? Harry blinked in shock and blurted out "do dementors affect werewolves? I mean, like, the actual werewolf part."

Remus gave Harry a look of utter disbelief. He seemed remarkably calm now, still confused and upset like the others, but not particularly concerned for his life. Considering his reaction to Sirius a moment ago, it gave him a real pause and a blatant reminder Harry had survived. How? No one knew, but he certainly wanted that answer, so instead of cursing and screaming and unnecessarily producing a patronus right now, no matter how much he hated that animal, like he knew they all wanted to do, he answered, "I have no idea. As far as I know the two have never intersected. The werewolf's base emotion is to attack, that's certainly not a happy feeling, so I doubt the dementors could affect that."

Harry grinned in appreciation, watching the others wearily sit back down as they realized what Remus had. They wanted their answers more than swearing to the heavens those things existed.

They'd spent so long being angry at what the rat had done, and now were so low at what was going to happen to Sirius, the fact that Harry was okay was the only thing keeping them going.

Below was a gray skull, with empty eye sockets and a jagged shape for a mouth, which was trying to suck up more than air.

James hands wouldn't sit still. Wanting to reach over and grab hold of Sirius, to never let go so long as he just kept breathing. To reach for his wand and do something, anything to make this go away. To hold and cuddle his baby to his chest, to go and hug his son now so that he had something to cling onto who despite all odds lived when the rest of them hadn't. No one had ever looked under a dementors hood and lived, and now James had a mental image he never wanted, and it still wasn't the worst thing to happen to him today.

Harry lost the hold on his spell, the little of his patronus faded away.

Sirius felt like that was his own lifeline that had been snipped. He fell back against his friends and probably would have kept falling forever if they weren't both there now, each holding tight to him to make sure he wasn't really going anywhere.

Still he fought back, grasping hold of Sirius' arms, trying to insist he was innocent, they weren't going to take him.

Harry felt torn in two, he wanted to go to Sirius and cling to him now, promise himself that a connection to his family really hadn't been lost this night, but Remus and James weren't leaving much room, Sirius looked nearly smothered, and he wouldn't leave his mom now.

The dementor cared nothing, its clammy hands holding fast to his throat, raising him up to meet the replica of its face, and the last thing Harry would ever hear was his mother screaming in his head.

His mother's great sob was his answer, she definitely needed him more, as he curled tightly into her and promised he wasn't going anywhere, and Lily had to blink ghosts and tears and screams away for several minutes, watching the book in her lap and all the little wet spots on the pages that still weren't enough to erase the words, and just wanting this to be over.

Just behind the fog of white in his brain, something silver was moving towards them. Suddenly Harry was back on the ground, face first, the dementor had let him go.

Lily finally felt like she could breathe again, clutching the lifeline of little print that promised her something had changed, whatever had saved her son's life was happening!

The light continued to grow brighter, it was now galloping in a circle around the three of them, and once all of the dementors were gone it went back across the lake.

'A patronus,' they all realized at once. Though what, who could have sent it? Maybe a teacher from the school had come down and realized what had happened. Galloping, that implied a horse like shape to whoever owned it, but there were just too many possibilities, and they were just too exalted in breathing air again to care. Harry was safe...but what about Sirius? Had the dementors gotten him while Harry was being attacked? They had come from all sides...

Fighting against a black swirl, Harry forced his eyes to focus, and as the bright creature came to its end, Harry saw someone oddly familiar greet it...but it couldn't be.

"Who did it look like?" Sirius quickly asked, his voice no longer sounding like his own, but just wanting to think of anything but a shell of his body being left behind for Harry to find.

Harry didn't answer though, he was blinking and squinting at nothing like he couldn't see clearly, still holding tight to his mother and throwing fear filled looks at Sirius. Clearly whoever he'd seen had startled him, but the fact that he didn't answer wasn't promising. Lily just wanted to get the book out of her own hands at this point so finished.

His body failed him, and he fainted.

Lily let out a pitiful moan as she pushed the book away, letting it land on the floor and just clinging to her son because that was all she could think to do. The boys weren't much better, each of them stuck on the idea, but unable to say it, spit it out, it even hurt to think it, because Sirius just couldn't be dead.

HPHPHPHP

So yeah, been dropping little hints for a while that Harry was going to remember something soon that wasn't going to be good, and it was this. Harry remembers how he felt when Sirius died, and has no way to tell them otherwise, but this was the wrong time, so they get to spend this and most of the next chapter thinking Sirius is dead...I am a cruel person and I regret nothing.

[jade4813]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves, Chapter 1

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Rating: PG (I’m assuming it’ll stay there?)

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Max would do anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last "big moment" to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it's only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?

Author’s Notes: Takes place after Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch.

“Max, I need your help.”

He froze, his cup of coffee an inch from his face. Things were awkward between him and Zoey. Had been since he confessed his feelings to her. Or maybe since she gained the ability to hear his feelings through song. The situation had hardly been improved when she sang a love song to him in return before immediately turning around and singing a heartsong to Simon.

He tried not to think about that. His heart was bruised, leaving him a conflicted wreck. He was trying to keep some measure of distance from her to protect whatever pieces of his heart didn't already belong to her. But those five little words were his Kryptonite. It didn’t matter if he was hurt, or angry, or heartsick. If Zoey needed him, he’d be there for her. No matter the cost.

“Of course. You know I’m here for you.”

She winced. “Wait. Before you agree, you should know that…what I’m about to ask you, I know it isn’t going to be fair to you. And I promise you, I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice. But it’s for my dad, and…” She let her voice trail off.

He didn’t even have to think about it. There was nobody in the world more important to him than Zoey, and nobody in the world more important to her at the moment than her father. Whatever she needed, she only had to ask. “Zoey, how can I help?” he reiterated.

She sucked in a deep breath, her fingers dancing anxiously along the curve of her cup. “I went over to my parents’ last night. We’re – we’re trying –” She broke off, needing to take a few deep breaths before she could continue. “There are some end-of-life decisions we have to make for my dad. Anyway, I heard my mom and brother talking, and she thinks…”

“Yes?” he prompted when her voice trailed off.

She swiped a hand through her hair, brushing it off of her face. “She thinks he’s worried about me. Or at least that he’s sad that he’ll miss out on so many of those big moments that you know he used to love – that he loves – so much.” He frowned, not immediately clear on what she was asking of him, so she explained, “You know, like seeing me fall in love or get – get married.” Her voice caught on the last word.

It stung a little, hearing her say she wasn’t in love with him, but his feelings weren’t important right now. Pushing them aside, he grabbed her hand, stroking her palm with strong, soothing strokes. “I understand. I just don’t understand how I can help.”

Her face twisted into a grimace. “Well, I was thinking…I need a boyfriend.”

His hand stilled on hers. “You need a what?”

“Not a real boyfriend!” she rushed to explain. “Just…someone who wouldn’t mind pretending to be my boyfriend for a few weeks, until –” She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. He knew what she was saying. Until her father was gone.

He was still scrambling to process what she was asking of him. “You want me to –”

“No! Max, I would never ask you to do that. To pretend like that. That would be,” she paused, searching for the word before finally settling on, “cruel. I’m wondering if you know anyone who could…who would…”

“Pretend to date you?” He tried to choose his words carefully, not wanting to hurt her but needing her to see the danger in her plan. He kept his voice soft, but his grip on her hand was firm and comforting. “Zoey…I understand why you want to do this, but…the two of you don’t have a lot of time left. Do you really want to spend the rest of it lying to him?”

She teared up. “He’s my dad,” she said helplessly, her eyes filling with tears. When he saw one trickle down her cheek, he had to fist his hands in his lap to resist the urge to brush it away. “If it’ll make him happy, it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

He leaned back, breathing a heavy sigh. Yes. If it would make Mitch happy, if it would make Zoey happy, it was worth it. Though he couldn’t pretend to be thrilled at the prospect of watching her date someone else, even if it was all pretend. “So you want my help finding you a fake boyfriend.”

He rubbed one hand across his face, thinking through his options. Simon was clearly out, which Max was ashamed to say gave him a tiny measure of relief. As desperate as Zoey was for a fake boyfriend, he doubted even she would be willing to ask Leif. Or Tobin. “Kevin from Accounts Payable?”

She groaned. “He eloped last week.”

“Really?” he asked, flashing her a quick grin. “Good for him!” Tapping his fingers against the table, he tried again. “Hank from Operations?”

“In Maui for the next two weeks. First vacation he’s taken in three years.”

Max sighed. A few other co-workers came to mind, but if they weren’t in committed relationships, there was no way that Zoey’s parents would ever buy them as plausible boyfriends. He made one last, desperate attempt. “Doesn’t Mo know anyone? Have you asked him?”

She shook her head. “Not really. The problem is, they’re all strangers. I was hoping I could find someone I might have at least mentioned to them before. It’ll be more believable if it’s someone I’ve known for a while and we can pretend we just realized we'd fallen in love.”

He managed a wry smile, but he managed to refrain from pointing out the painful irony of that comment. “Yeah, I guess. I just don’t know anyone like that, that you could ask.”

Zoey was visibly crestfallen. “Yeah, that was my problem too. Do you think if I posted an online ad…”

“No, that’s way too dangerous!” He ran his hand down his face again. “Okay, I know you don’t want to consider this, but…what about me?”

“Max, no! I told you I’d never ask you to do that!”

He shrugged, offering her a hopeless little smile. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.” She threw him a mutinous look, so he leaned forward and prepared to make his case. “Look, I really appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, but put my feelings aside for a few minutes. If you look at this critically, it’s the only thing that makes sense. We’ve been friends for a long time, and your parents know how close we are. We can totally convince them we fell in love at some point along the way. I know about your powers. I know why this is so important to you.”

Her hair whipped around as she shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. Max, I can’t…I don’t…” He stared at her, is gaze steady and unblinking, until she managed helplessly, “Things between the two of us have been…complicated, and if we pretend we’re dating, I’m worried it will make things worse! I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

He tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but he was afraid whatever he managed was a pale imitation of the expression. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. You know how I feel about you, and I know,” he paused, searching for the words. He would say he knew how she felt about him, but did he? Maybe it wasn’t her fault because of her powers, but the signals he’d received from her had been decidedly mixed. “I know how you feel about how I feel about you, I guess,” he finished lamely.

“Max –” she tried, in one final protest.

“Zoey, it’s okay. I know it won’t be real, and I know it’s for your dad. You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t get the wrong idea. Let me do this for you. Let me do this for Mitch. You know what he means to me. If doing this will make his final days any easier, if it’ll make him realize he doesn’t have to worry about you, then it’s worth it.” He could see she was wavering, so he pressed, “Let me do this. Please.”

She still looked uncertain, but she said, “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

He wasn’t. He had a feeling that, his reassurances aside, this was going to hurt. It was probably a terrible idea. Oh, he’d still remember that she didn’t love him, but letting himself give in to his feelings for her, even if it was only for pretend? There was no way he would get out of this with whatever shreds of his heart remained intact. But it was for her. It was for Mitch, a man who had acted more like a father to him than his own.

Zoey and Mitch needed him, and he’d be there for them. No matter the cost. How could he do anything less?

“I’m sure.”

Her smile was shaky. “All right.”

Telling himself he could do this and keep a firm grip on his emotions, he lifted his coffee cup in a fake toast. “All right, fake girlfriend. Where do we begin?”

[minjungfmd]

butterfly / creative claims verification

writing verification for @fmdjiah‘s butterfly. an instrumental inspired by the dreaminess of a movie, and lyrics that write a love story that feels like a remnant of a dream. warnings / none wc / 1687, not including lyrics 

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

despite how many times she’s repeated the movies in her head — set forth with the question of whether any erasure of the memory counts towards the steps of healing — she finds something new.

this time, the fixation on the cinematic score, an ethereal dream shifting the pieces of fragments of fiction versus reality prompts her fingers on the keyboard to start trickling a series of notes, one by one. trickling dainty, delicately. it mimics the tempo of classically thought-of harps, and the note leads to a drag over one and another. and when inspiration hits, she goes straight towards her home-studio, the new file of a blank screened ableton before the record starts, and she carries the notes, letting the settings hit almost to the notch of mute.

there’s no heavy emphasis, just the trickle of notes she wants to carry the dream of the track. it’s the lucid dreams, the ones that feel like when you’re drunk on little hours of sleep with heavy eyelids, and a heavy heart to match. the nostalgia that comes in waves, just like the gentle sounds to lull you to sleep, knowing full well you can’t.

she imagines the song to have a feeling, the lyrics that are sung in a way it just drags. heels in the ground, one word blending into another in a sultry emotion that counteracts the nostalgia lodged in the song — makes note of that for later, but for now, inaudible words, just phasing past her lips in small ideas of how the melody goes.

she takes the first one, the counter-progression of the initial notes as she hums the words, taking two notes forward in the same pitch before the other falls back. it all contrasts by the time she takes a stark turn, starting another line with a higher note, only to transition down. her pen jots the time stamp, a possible falsetto? she leaves that to later judgement.

but work doesn’t always come in a streamlined process, just as it’s hard to solidify ideas one by one, in a cohesive manner. instead, it comes wayward from all angles, and she falls back to the instrumental, taking in the slow bpm tempo — leading with a possible chord, heavy on the synth to start each trickle of keys. this time, the setting’s louder, spotlighting the attention to the thickness of the beginning, setting up for the entirety of the dream.

-

when she falls back on the track, she finds herself doused in inspiration days later. working on bits and pieces, martyring it like a puzzle still to be written. she takes her notes, one by one, still no lyrics at hand but an idea of non-coherent words and strings of random sentences — the heaviness of the chords, the synth and the trickle of keys she alters with editing, building up from the minimalism of the keys to heaviness of the synth by the time she picks where she sees the chorus.

vibrato on the voice, drag the end.

she writes that down, singing along empty words — a more powerful vocal execution, even where her own struggles. a dip before the vibrato and the drags paint the canvas whole.

the song’s not for her, least not when the power dynamics of the song — the counteraction between the softness of the dream with the voices of reality are centered around the song. the verses carry themselves alone before she takes in a different set of notes, speeding them up towards the end. a nameless track with an empty story — it’s the skeletons of something, maybe someday it’ll come into fruition.

— 

the song repeats itself in her head, like a taste of irony. it bleeds into her thoughts when she’s drifting back, lost in the middle of a meeting — the dreamy synths drowning out the talks of the executives, and by the time she spares a few hours, she’s already back into the studio, notebook wide scribbling down rudimentary sketches of clouds and figures.

turns out, it’s another love song struck in her mind when dreams entice a figure of her past that comes to haunt her in sweet memories, too sweet to be drowned out by any erasure.

she writes the first few words:

drawn in a dream that i can’t wake up from i was still looking for you

it’s like sleep walking, or some wicked form of lucid dreaming. walking around in circles hoping for a figure of the past keeping up — but the reality brings to a limbo that leaves her double questioning the thoughts of what’s real and what’s fake if the thing she’s looking for all along becomes the centerpiece  that all draws to him.

because she knows, optimistic thinking. wishful dreaming — it all dies the second dreams blur with reality, and what’s sitting in front of her becomes the hopes and wishes she spent her 11:11s and pennies on. her breath held still, a person of permanency to become exposed right in front of only to realize the first taste becomes like the first hit of a drug that takes over the body in full throttle. exhilaration, and addition all lying on the first whiff, putting her on a cloud nine, skies above her head. no recollection for the past nor future when the present feels so good.

now that i found you i can’t wake up i can’t escape from you

but even addicts have their downfall and the high doesn’t last long. least not when the shaky withdrawals of a person no longer being there starts to breed the downfall for a constant lingering feeling of wanting something that’s not there. she knows it, and she’s sure anyone else does too — the way he’s there and then poofs into fine air, the remnants of the cologne left on his clothes the only piece to tether her back (only, that’s a lie. it’s always been a lie when the memory becomes the final force of red string tethering her still).

in the end, he’s not a creature to be caved in nor is she a creature meant to stay still. freedom lingers like a butterfly always waiting at the end, with the only possibility of hope: maybe, someday it’ll return.

even if i struggle to hold onto you’re still like a butterfly

she wonders how she became a lovelorn addict in the first place. how she became jaded by the pinky promises and breaths shared underneath the blanket. heartbeats playing in sync, and the gleam in her eye that writes the story for a future left unwritten — little did she know, it’d be left as the future untold. 

if anything, it’s pride that tells her to regret. prevent the beggar nature to fall onto her knees and plead for a sense of freedom — because the more she thinks, the more she dwindles and the pang in her gut grows. 

she writes down her pleas here, because if not here — then anywhere housed in her thoughts would topple over the self-ruination in.

let go of my tired heart the deeper i get, the smaller i become the one that got away, making my heart more painful

it’s a pity song, a pitied dream. one word after the other scrawling itself across the pages. yet, the journal houses the same old song written fifteen different ways, each word, each sentence staking the same words unspoken to a boy she can’t bring herself to call. empty lines, and empty text messages — erased, then re-written over and over. and the only remedy becomes the hope that someday it’ll enter his own ears through the speakers — because in the end, she falls inside cowardice. falls too short, becomes a coward to bring herself to say it out loud: i miss you. i hate you. but i can’t regret you.

-

like a school girl, she carries her harddrive close to her chest. crossed again, hidden behind a mask as she finds her way, her own unwelcomed entrance coming in a peek through the doors before she steps into the studio. her hands toss the disk to her friend, sitting happily in front of the desk — he’s a free soul, unbridled by any company and a worker to all. still, friendship crosses work boundaries when she comes in for a second set of ears, and he picks up on the one-two cues already halfway plugging the drive into the computer.

“i want to add a series of chords, guitar — but i can’t get the right set, or the right set.” it’s her concession, when she hums along what she means, fingers already pointing to a screen at the set time point. “i’ve added in as much synth as you could see — heavy handed especially where the chorus blurs into the second verse, and the end of each line to exude that cloudy blur i want in this song. but here.” her nails tap once more at the screen. “i want this weird chord style, where it’s somewhere between electric and acoustic, heavier than the piano that carries the song.” 

too many words, and she waits in the silence, arms crossed against her chest — awaiting an answer. but she knows, her friend works in silence, taking in the entire song the whole way through before parting his lips to give any sort of answer.

“you could add it towards the end of the song? the entire beginning sounds too heavy on the synth to add anything else.”

she weighs her choices, a song spurned on by inspiration. yet, she stands in a limbo of not knowing what to do, and what to add. instead, she tilts her head, lips unevenly pursed to the side of her face. “could we try adding chords? but the specific settings of an unplugged electric guitar”

“you don’t think it’ll clash?”

“if we keep it silenced enough it doesn’t drown out the keys, i think it could work.”

her friend motions over to the lines of guitar stockpiled in the side of the room, “take your pick.”

her hands gravitate towards the first guitar, taking a seat on the couch behind them. uncertain, she motions with a nod to play back the instrumental of the song, void of her guide vocals, strumming one take to the next. it all leads to a simple c, and she flicks her gaze up, a eureka gloating in her eyes. “it’s this.”

[sibyl-of-space]

Final Fantasy IX ~ Melodies and Memories

"Jesters of the Moon"

There are a lot of very good video games in the world, but it takes some luck and circumstance outside of a game's control for one to reach me at just the right time(s) and place(s) in my life that it has a tangible impact on who I am -- who I want to be. One that carves out a space for itself in my soul that will never be removed or replaced.

I've just finished playing Final Fantasy IX for the first time, and there's no doubt in my mind that such is the case here.

(Continued below readmore.)

I drew this art last year, when I was mourning my attachment to an old favorite game that I just don't feel the same way about anymore: Majora's Mask. I wanted to draw something that captured my feelings about it, because sometimes art is the best way to talk about something when the words don't want to come.

Why is "Jesters of the Moon," the name of a random song in the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack, plastered in the middle of this Majora's Mask fanart? Especially considering I hadn't even played Final Fantasy IX yet when I drew this?

The reason is exactly that "luck and circumstance" that allowed me to fall so uniquely in love with the game.

"Mt. Gulug"

In 2008, someone on YouTube uploaded a Majora's Mask parody-slash-let's-play series called "Majora's Mask: The Things Which Were Taken Out." The series has since become unlisted and won't be linked here out of respect for the creator who probably doesn't want things they said and made in 2008 being spread all over the internet, but because of Unregistered Hypercam 2 reasons, the series inserted other background music over the video and didn't record the actual game audio.

I didn't recognize any of the music, but I watched these parody videos on repeat because in addition to being funny (...at the time, in my mind, at least), I really really loved the music. It got to the point where I would sometimes be playing Majora's Mask and get disappointed when I approached Goht and the Mt. Gulug theme wasn't playing in the background.

I had forgotten about these videos for a really long time in the interim, but I remembered them at some point when I was thinking about Majora's Mask and I found them again. The creator had cited the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack for virtually all of the background music used in the videos, and I realized that despite knowing literally nothing about the game, I had become really fond of - and weirdly nostalgic for - the songs from it that I now recognized.

So I looked up "Jesters of the Moon" and played it on repeat while I drew out my feelings in colored marker. A few months later, I realized that my backwards compatible PS3 can also play PS1 games, and eBay had FFIX for PS1 at a good price. I had nothing to lose by ordering it and seeing what the source of all that fantastic music was like.

"Vamo Alla Flamenco"

I started my playthrough knowing nothing about what to expect from the game. I'd never played a Final Fantasy game before and my overall JRPG experience has been mostly limited to Tales of, Persona, and more recently, mainline Shin Megami Tensei. The only things I knew about Final Fantasy were a) the Tidus laughing scene, and b) Sephiroth. IX seemed like it had vibes I would enjoy, but beyond that I knew nothing about what the experience would be. So I approached it with a "let's have fun and see how it goes" attitude, naming my party members the first silly thing that came to mind, ending up with "Swaggy," "OwO," "Bitchin," "Gunz," and "SWOOORD" to start with.

(For the record I do not regret those names whatsoever.)

I was immediately struck by how differently the game uses music in comparison to all of my previous JRPG experiences. This was not a game where the composer was given a list of theme songs that were slapped on top of a mostly completed game-- this was a game constructed with the soundtrack in mind as a part of the writing process.

The opening act plays almost like an opera (side note, yes I know one of the other FF's has a literal opera, I haven't played that one): you traverse the same locations from different perspectives as different characters, introducing the cast with lighthearted humor and dramatic irony out the wazoo. While you traverse the city as OwO, OwO's theme is playing in the background, coloring your perspective of the city and the narrative. When you switch to Gunz patrolling around the castle, Gunz's theme accompanies your movement and informs his character and mission. I am so accustomed to "location themes" being the norm in virtually all video games that experiencing character and/or narrative themes as BGM instead while I bumble around town changed my entire perspective on what music in games can do and be.

The operatic feeling is definitely intentional, because the game uses a play-within-a-game narrative device to hit you over the head with its themes in a way that is somehow poignant and artful while also being extremely blatant. That is a hard balance to strike, but it manages. The whole game is like that: it is completely straightforward and tells you exactly what it's about at heart, but it does it beautifully.

At any rate, I was enamored with this intro and had a very fun time, but I wasn't obsessed or anything and ended up putting it down. I spent several months on the first half of disk 1 with weeks passing between play sessions. I liked the game plenty, but life stuff happened and I decided to get obsessed with Dai Gyakuten Saiban and Ghost Trick for a while. No regrettis.

It was already clear, though, that FFIX was going to be special to me. My compositions for my team's game in the Global Game Jam in 2021 were directly inspired by FFIX's opera-like intro. I wrote two character themes for our game that would serve as background music when you play as the two protagonists, coloring your journey differently even when moving in the same spaces. I was intentionally trying to mimic the way music is used in FFIX as an exercise. The themes I wrote are definitely some of my strongest work so far.

(You can check out the game here if you want, I promise it is significantly shorter than Final Fantasy IX.)

"Melodies of Life"

Music caused me to pick up FFIX the first time, and music caused me to return to it. After months of not touching or really thinking about it, just earlier this week I was inspired to play it again, because - again - I listened to the right song at the right time.

I was again mourning the loss of something, in this case a friendship, for reasons I'm not going to share here. I had already heard the song "Melodies of Life" because it came up when I was looking up FFIX songs to reblog on Tumblr a few months ago, and I decided to listen to it again. Even without knowing the game context, the song itself really spoke to me in that moment: "a voice from the past, joining yours and mine, adding up the layers of harmony" - it kind of made me feel at peace with the fact that I had a lot of positive memories of that friendship and I could keep those at heart while also moving on in the present. ...I'm also a sucker for music metaphors, so there is that.

I was really moved by this song, cheesy as it is, and I was also definitely in the mood for a distraction. Picking up FFIX again felt like the best move.

It was, and my life is forever changed.

The game never stopped being beautiful and funny and touching, and the soundtrack never ceased to amaze. I recognized concepts I've seen in other games but never had I seen them used so artfully. I adored the fantasy world and non-human cast, I found myself enticed by random encounter for the first time because it made me feel like I had to struggle to survive a difficult journey. Music, gameplay, visuals, and story felt like one cohesive work of art for the entire duration.

Life circumstances got me to play the game again, but the game itself was so captivating and wonderful that I binged the entire rest of it - disks 2-4 - in less than a week. Everything else that the game had to say, it told me itself, in its own context, and I was ready to listen.

"You're Not Alone!"

This is going to make me sound like an emotionally-stunted twenty-something, but it has been years since a work of media has got me to have a really good cry. I used to cry playing games all the time as a kid but recently I'll find myself getting emotional, sure, often tearing up, but getting completely red-faced and snot-nosed because I physically cannot contain the emotions being evoked by a work? Years. I can't honestly tell you the last time it happened with certainty.

I feel like an emotional band-aid has been ripped off. I was f*cking sobbing during the entire duration of the "You're Not Alone!" sequence. It didn't matter that what was happening was obviously coming from a mile away, because the delivery was so raw and emotional and human!!! A whole game's worth of Swaggy punching first and asking questions later to save his friends, being Protag McProtag endangering himself for others in any and all circumstances, for the payoff of all of his friends forcing him to stop being such a primadonna and let them help him for once. It's true, too! He relies on them just as much as they rely on him! And the game doesn't just tell you this, no, it lets you try to solo all these fights and waits until you realize how boned you are until they come bail you out.

When Bitchin showed up with her "looks like you need a hand" I wanted to straight up yell at my tv. YES I DO!!! YES I DO NEED YOU BITCHIN!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!! I half knew that SWOOORD was going to heal me before I got truly KO-ed but I had been unmercifully wiped in "unwinnable" battles before in this game, so I legit thought I might have to re-do that whole part of the game again, and I was so relieved and thankful when she showed up and healed me.

This moment exemplifies everything that I adore about this game. It doesn't just tell you its story. It shows it to you, it sings it to you, and it and lets you play it out and feel it for yourself.

"Game Over"

This song is all too familiar to me. Gizamaluke's Grotto was very unforgiving for a first-time Final Fantasy player, especially one who didn't happen to pick up Big on the way for a fourth party member early on.

I hadn't heard the piano part in a few months, though, because when I picked the game back up I started just mashing to reload before it got to that point any time we wiped. I didn't hear it again until the game was truly over, this time for good.

I let it play for a while. Not too long, because I have a CRT TV and didn't want "The End" to get burned in. But a while. Enough to meditate on what I'd just experienced, and how I was feeling about it.

There's so much more to say about the game, far more than I could put in a blog post. But I don't think I need to describe these thoughts in words. I can do what the game did, and use music, use art, use stories, use metaphors, and use symbols to communicate what I mean; and hope that someone else is able and willing to listen.

And although a written record of my thoughts likely won't be preserved for all that long, maybe the feelings and the memories will be, so long as they have been shared.

[jerepars]

Throwing Copper Extended Chapter Notes

3 / 5 Why We Ever

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile). The story is posted here. Direct link to this chapter is here.

James contemplated what an early morning of everyday things would consist of if they were different people, in a different life. He wondered if she would make fun of his bedhead and if her laughter would fill up the air in the room when he reached over and pulled her closer, threatening to not let go unless she stopped squirming, until the book they’d been reading toppled to the floor, forgotten. He wondered if they’d let their coffee run cold.

There’s a song called “Everyday Things” by David Usher, which doesn’t mention any of the things James is thinking about here, but I do like the idea of James (or Teresa for that matter) thinking of what everyday things would consist of for them. Also, I hadn’t heard the original version of this song in...years...because the one I always listen to is the acoustic version, featuring Cœur de pirate, whose back vocals are very complimentary. The original version of the song doesn’t even sound right to me and it sounded so off when I listened to it to get the url. Not that any of this matters at all.

A frown settled between Teresa’s eyebrows and she blinked away tears before they could form. She swallowed the lump of emotions blocking her throat. There was an irony to her actions. Doing something for James gave her new lungs, but explaining it to him made it hard to breathe.

The song “New Lungs” by Glacier Veins is what I was thinking of here, because of the line that goes And with new lungs I relearn how to breathe.

“You know why,” she answered simply, unwilling to elaborate what she was sure they both understood.

Making her feel better and being a shoulder to lean on might’ve been things James did out of a sense of obligation. But turning up in New Orleans to warn her about Devon, and then being the overwatch for the meeting Devon had shown up to – those things were about something else. It was the same for Teresa. When the opportunity presented itself, for her to make James’ Devon problem go away, the reason she didn’t hesitate wasn’t because she felt she owed him or had to repay him. She did it because it was James. The things they took on for each other, actions strong enough to shift tectonic plates, they did because they wanted to. The only boundaries of their loyalty and love for one another were speaking about them out loud.

I’ve found the cave metaphor from 1x06 to be something that I continually come back to while writing about James and Teresa. There’s a part of the conversation, which focuses on how far implication goes with them, when James says, “You know what I’m talking about” (1:35). So I wanted there to be a similar thing here, with Teresa saying “you know why” about why they’re willing to do so much for each other. It seems a big part of why they never say how they really feel is because it’s so easy for them to make vague statements with implications that they both understand. 

Teresa was right, and James did understand, because when he looked at her again, the warmth of his eyes was ebbing away at the anger held there. “Not sure I can exist without consequence,“ James told her softly.

When I started planning this chapter, I could hear James’ dialogue here so clearly in my mind. The line and the idea of James having grown so uneasy with a life where there’s no retribution against him is inspired by American Football’s “Uncomfortably Numb”. Mike Kinsella (the band’s vocalist) and Hayley Williams (who is featured on the track) do a little call and return with the line: But how will you exist (how will I exist?) without consequence? I’ll let you know.

This song is so hypnotic and I remember listening to it ad nauseum, except that I never got tired of it, when it first came out. I listened to it over and over and over again (again, lol) while writing this chapter, and I still love it. The mood of the song, in my opinion, really matches the mood of the chapter.

Despite the high stakes of their mission, or maybe because of it, the last three days had been better than, perhaps, the last three hundred. Like looking in his eyes and searching for clarity, working with James again was like muscle memory for Teresa.

This part is a call back to the first chapter, where it’s mentioned that for Teresa, looking at James and searching his eyes for their next move, for reassurance, for clarity is like muscle memory she can’t shake. Not that this is a super important detail, but I do like to put earlier ideas into later chapters for cohesion. This is probably why I can’t write something short to save my life, because I think too much about small details. It bugs me, in fic, when it’s obvious time has been spent on certain details but then the idea is never brought up ever again.

Working on an operation with him made Teresa curse the reasons why they’d ever said I’m gonna miss you and I’ll see you around a year ago, when they’d said goodbye. It brought back the feelings of longing, of wanting to coexist in the same space and move in the same direction, at the same time, together.

It was unintentional that the two songs that inspired this chapter most have Hayley Williams in them. But when I listen to them back to back, I can also see why that ended up happening. This chapter is named after the Hayley Williams song “Why We Ever” because of the line that goes And now I can’t seem to remember why we ever felt we had to say goodbye. 

I watched the goodbye scene in 3x13 to write these two sentences. There are a lot of scenes from QOTS that I’ve watched over and over again but that’s not one of them because, like, it hurts me. Also it’s super frustrating that that’s the note Jeresa ends on until the last ten seconds of 4x13. I'm thinking S5 Jeresa needs to happen by 5x03. And if not, we riot. Lol.

“For freaking out and needing you the other night. For doubting you and questioning you, when you’re always just trying to help me,” Teresa rambled, then paused to take a breath, because what she really wanted to apologize for cut at her the deepest. “I’m sorry for the things I’ve asked you to do. For the people you had to take out and people you had to bury. Even after I knew about what happened with Suzie, I still asked you to…”

The part of “Why We Ever” that really pulls at my heartstrings is the end, which goes: I just wanna talk about it. I know I freaked you out. I just wanna talk about it. Sorry for freaking out.

That’s simple, sure. But it’s raw. I wanted Teresa to get pretty raw in this scene, letting her honesty come tumbling out without eloquence.

Also, something that has irked me since 3x05 is the fact that James is so clearly not the same after what happened to Suzie, and when we learn what happened, we understand why he’s so affected by the stuff he has to do, even out of necessity. What happened to Suzie takes it to the extreme, creates a breaking point for James, but even going back to S1, James has never liked the part of his job that means he has to hurt and kill people. After finding out what happened in 3x05, 3x04 seemed especially cruel to James, when he’s left to bury the reporter - we just didn’t know how cruel it was at the time.

And I get it, he has to do his job. Occupational hazards, right? But he’s changed after 3x05, and he still has to kill for Teresa. He even has to dig the ditch to bury Guero. The experiences of cartel life that Teresa and James have are certainly different, and again this makes sense, because they are in different roles. But S3 is not kind to James, not in the least, and I think that’s why it makes sense to me that he’d want out of the life if there’s nothing or no one to stay for.

I don’t know that Teresa will ever be this apologetic in canon, since she’s the queen so she’s free to give out orders without explanation or sympathy. I wish it would happen though, and I think there’s potential for prime Jeresa content if she does. I wrote it myself since the likelihood of it happening is probably slim to none.

Teresa trailed off without finishing her train of thought. She wasn’t meant to apologize, for she was the queen. She was supposed to stay icy and distant; sensitivity deprived. But she couldn’t help it with James. She couldn’t help the light leaking back in. It was different, because he was different.

The opening lyrics of “Uncomfortably Numb” are sensitivity deprived. That phrase begins the first two verses. As already mentioned, to me the song encapsulates the mood of this chapter so well.

He looked scared, confused about what she’d said. James had grown used to Teresa’s mixed signals; they’d been dancing around each other and their feelings for so long. But Teresa being direct was new. Her dark side scared him, and he didn’t know to which part of her directness belonged to, light or dark.

This is, again, a call back to the first chapter, where it’s mentioned there’s a part of Teresa (the Teresa that she’s become) that scares James a bit. Just trying to tie it back in and keep the chapters cohesive, connected, over the course of the story.

Her heart was already on the floor, but had she been entirely forthcoming? She’d reinforced that he had a choice, and he was free. But had she even given James a reason to want to stay? Had she ever? Did he even know her desire for him to stay had many layers to it?

Heart is on the floor, why don’t you step on it? is the first line in the chorus of “Rocks Tonic Juice Magic” by Saves the Day. I didn’t really realize I was making this reference until I was actually typing it out. And it being the last song reference in the chapter, when I went to get the URL, I ended up with so much sorrow because I have so many fond memories of being at shows surrounded by people with the same feelings for this song and this music as me, and singing these words back with such urgency. I miss shows so much. I think finally being able to go back to shows, in a post-pandemic world, whenever that is, is going to be so emotional and I’m probably going to cry.

Okay, so that was a tangent.

Anyway, I don’t think Teresa has ever let herself be so vulnerable, to just come out and tell James how she feels or what she wants. It doesn’t mean she and James don’t already know. But there is something to be said about, well, saying those things. It takes brevity, but if she can’t be honest where it counts, then they don’t have a chance. That’s why I wanted Teresa to have this moment, with her heart on the floor, thinking...does she need to take it even a step further?

And by the end of it, she does.

[babineni]

Harmony (part 2 of 2)

aka the polyamory thing

link to part 1

One heartbeat. Two. Three. Gaura made her way down the steps leading belowdeck. A part of her still felt the sway of the last dance, and the racing of her heart, but another felt something akin to anxiety. Her resolve was shaken ever so slightly and the Watcher couldn't help but scold herself for it - there was nothing to fear, there was no reason to do this to herself. There was no reason to think of herself as unfair or selfish. And there was absolutely no reason to think of Aloth's parents or to be worried of becoming a bitter reminder of them.

The Watcher took a deep breath. Two deep breaths. Three.

It helped. Or maybe it was the silence. The silence that didn't feel empty, like an absence of sound, like a sign of danger. The silence that felt soft and rich, that dulled Gaura's senses in the most comforting way, that enveloped her and brought her mind to ease as gently as any lullaby. Aloth's silence. Her peace and quiet. Gaura reached the bottom of the stairs and the distance from the music above did not bother her all that much. She exhaled with a faint smile on her face: everything was going to be fine. If things would change - truly change - they would change for the better.

The Watcher made an attempt at getting to Aloth's bunk, but the pets roaming around belowdeck stopped her after nearly every step she took. The wizard took notice of the animals' sudden excitement, and peeked at the commosion they caused. As his gaze fell onto Gaura leaning down to scratch a spot below Cone Cat's cone, a bright smile spread on his face. He placed his book on his bed and made his way to her, stumbling once or twice past their energetic company. They laughed as they awkwardly closed the distance between each other, then Aloth left a shallow kiss on the Watcher's lips as a greeting.

'I didn't expect you this early,' he noted and as the words left his mouth, his smile started to fade. 'Is... something wrong?'

'No,' Gaura said after a moment of surprise and hesitation. 'There is just... something I want to talk to you about. In private,' she added when she glimpsed Nemnok and Concelhaut by the menagerie, glaring at her.

'That is hardly reassuring,' Aloth replied, taking the Watcher's hand and squeezing it a little, taking whatever comfort their contact offered.

Gaura smiled at the irony. She led him to her cabin by the hand, then to her bed once the wizard closed the door behind them. Even then she didn't let go, she merely watched her lover: his sharp features outlined his emotions as beautifully, as expressively as a poem. The Watcher couldn't help but reach out to that face, and carressed it, prompting Aloth to close his eyes and relax under her touch. Gaura felt a craving to kiss him, so strongly that she nearly forgot everything else - but that craving also carried a reminder of why she was there.

The Watcher sighed and pulled away from the elf. Aloth looked at her once more, his eyes full of questions.

'You wanted to discuss something,' he said cautiously.

Those few words were enough to make Gaura's mind go blank. She nodded a few times as she prodded her own mind, looking for a tactful way to express her feelings. When that didn't help, she braced herself and she let her instincts guide her.

'I'm in love with you.'

Aloth stared at her for a moment, then a smile brightened his face. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Gaura placed her hand on his lips.

'I'm... also in love with Edér,' she added apologetically as she removed her hand from Aloth's mouth.

The wizard blinked a few times as he processed the words. 'Oh,' he said eventually.

'Oh?' Gaura echoed. 'Is there... anything else you'd like to say?'

'I'm not sure what else I could say.'

The Watcher spent a moment trying to read Aloth's expression but she saw nothing but his usual attentiveness. Meanwhile his gaze was gentle... loving, even.

'You don't seem to be surprised,' she concluded.

'Am I supposed to be?' Aloth's lips curled to a reassuring smile, and he took Gaura's hand once more. 'Edér has been by your side for as long as I have, and he might not be the brightest mind on the face of Eora, but... I can see his appeal,' he said averting his gaze. The Watcher glimpsed a hint of red coloring the tip of his ear.

'So, you understand,' Gaura sighed in relief. 'I was so nervous about telling you. I didn't want you to think that I am not happy when I'm with you, or that I don't cherish what we have,' she admitted. Uttering the words felt like discarding a weight that has been slowly building in her chest for longer than she could remember. 'It's just that... Edér makes my heart sing, the same way as you do. The music may be different, but they're both beautiful,' she let out a self-deprecating laugh. 'That sounded like something out of a bad Vailian romance novel.'

'Indeed, it did,' the wizard laughed with her, but his laughter rang with joy and affection.

'I admire you so much,' she leaned forward and left a kiss on Aloth's cheek.

'As I admire you,' he replied. 'Does Edér know?'

'Yes,' the Watcher smiled as she recalled her dance with the farmer. 'He has feelings for me too. But we won't act on them without your blessing.'

The wizard was about to speak, but then his expression shifted to disbelief. 'Wait... he agreed to join us in our courtship?' When the Watcher nodded, Aloth blinked back at her incredulously. 'Forgive me, I just didn't expect someone so... traditional and... Dyrwoodan, to do so,' heat rose in his cheeks again and Gaura couldn't tell if he was embarrassed, enticed, or both. 'Is he... going to court both of us, or just you?'

'We only talked about him and me,' she shrugged. 'The two of you will have to figure out the rest.'

'I suppose, that's fair,' Aloth nodded with a serene smile.

Gaura smiled back at him and as she did so, she slowly started to realize what this all meant. 'So... You agree then?' She asked just to make sure, that this was real, that it was not a trick of her wishful mind or that her senses didn't drift into a beautiful, waking dream.

Her question, however, slowly wiped the smile off the wizard's face. He glanced at his hand grasping hers, and when he looked back at the Watcher, he seemed particularly serious.

'I do, but I have a condition,' he said, after casting Bulwark Against the Elements. He reached for the flames behind Gaura's ear first, as if they were just an untamed lock that he can tuck there. Then he slid his hand to the back of her head. The Watcher closed her eyes and listened to the fire crackling against the thin, magical barrier coating the fingers that caressed her gently. Aloth pulled her closer, for a moment Gaura felt his lips on hers, then his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace.

'I have never been in a relationship that involved more than two people,' he explained while he held her, 'but I know how much pressure two men can place on a heart,' he sighed. 'Berath and Eothas already hold your soul hostage, and all the powers in the Deadfire are vying for your allegiance... Balancing our love life will take a lot more effort going forward and I... I worry about you, Gaura. I don't want this to get too much for you. Just... Please, promise me you will be alright.'

The Watcher pulled away so she could look Aloth in the eye. 'You make everything so much easier for me,' she left a small peck on his lips. 'I will be fine. I won't spread myself too thin. You have my word on that.' A moment passed, and Gaura was almost convinced that the wizard didn't believe her.

'That is all I needed to hear,' Aloth said, then looked up at the ceiling. There was still music playing overhead. Floorboards softened the melody streaming down to them from above. The Watcher couldn't make out the song but it was something slow and sweet, and her heart beat along to it.

One. Two. Three.

Aloth stood up, and offered his hand to Gaura. 'May I have this dance?'

She replied by throwing herself at him. She buried her face in the curve of his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin and his hair. For a while, he was taken aback by her sudden outburst of affection, then reutrned her hug. They embraced until the end of the song.

'You may,' Gaura said then. Aloth softly chuckled as they began swaying to the rhythm of the next song.

The Watcher closed her eyes, and let her relief and happiness wash over her. She couldn't wait to hear what music her heart would sing in the future she'll share with the wizard in her arms and the veteran she held not so long ago. But she knew it would be beautiful.

[hysteriium]

The Irony of Fate [2]

Gif not mine! 

(A/N): Uhhh this gif kills me holy fuck LOOK AT HIM- UGH. OK, SORRY this took so long lmao, my writing has honestly been so slow lately. I’m trying to fix that but idk I guess it’s a work in process. ALSO!!!! I’m so GRATEFUL for y’all! You’ve all been so kind and supportive with the series, I honestly thought I was going to be swamped with hate! I’m really glad you’re all enjoying it, and love Arthur as much as I do. It’s really made me feel better about my shitty writing. So without further ado, I’ll let you read. Sorry for the monster essay! 

Summary: Arthur hated his life. That was no secret. He could pull out a list of the reasons why if someone had to ask. Perhaps he had pissed off fate really badly, a time he couldn’t seem to recall. Or perhaps, not that he believed in it, in a past life he had behaved so reprehensively that he was cursed for the entirety of his reincarnated existence. At this point, anything would make more sense than his continual bad luck - make more sense than his life. Was he doomed to be miserable for the rest of his time on earth? Or would the woman he spotted from his window instigate a rapid spiral of change?

Word Count: 3,400

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warnings: None! 

!! SPOILERS FOR ANYONE WHO HASN’T WATCHED THE MOVIE !! 

Anxiety coursed through (Y/n) like a turbulent storm, its rage coursing throughout her body, numbing her fingertips. Her mouth was abnormally dry and her attempts at swallowing - to try and lessen the prominence of the drought within, were all in vain. Counting down the seconds in her head silently, her jaw ticked. Large multicoloured drapes burned into her eyes, their bright colours harsh if looked at for too long. As she stood behind them, backstage, the familiar, upbeat music filled her ears, a tune she had known since teenagehood. In person, the arrangement of instruments beyond the curtains sounded different. It was raw. Loud. Unfiltered. The difference was something she found she prefered, it’s authenticity shining through. 

Despite the nostalgia, and the thrill of her dreams coming true, the song was hardly comforting, adding to the growing nausea in her stomach. Solidifying the presence of the knot within.  

The fact she was there was surreal. 

The crowd, in response to the anthem, went wild, clapping on cue, along with the song.

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen!” Murray shouted. His renowned dance moves, which had him swinging to the beat, were perfectly timed. 

Although (Y/n) was shrouded by the massive curtains in front of her, she could practically hear the smirk on his face. Sickly sweet and, dare she say, sickly fake. While she was eternally grateful to be where she was, the disingenuity unsettled her. It rubbed her the wrong way. 

Good ratings meant more money, and more money meant fewer problems. 

“Now, tonight, we’ve got an extra special guest,” he said.

(Y/n) swallowed.

She felt her fingers twitch in anticipation while the majority of the public oohed at Murray’s news.

“She’s a gorgeous woman…” a handful whistled, earning a soft chuckle from the host, “though I must say, she has an even lovelier voice.”

“It’s quite funny actually, I met her on the street the other day. I was blown away when I first heard her performing. And...I usually don’t do this, but I just had to have her on the show. You all know how much I love talent.” 

“However, there was just one thing that left me confused. I asked her, ‘why on the streets?’” Murray gave a quizzical look, “with such a gift, you’d expect her to be in the clubs!” 

“She shrugged her shoulders and told me, ‘you gotta start somewhere’.” 

“Now while I respect that, starting from humble beginnings and all, I told her, ‘honey with a face like that, you don’t gotta go around singing on the streets for money,’ if you know what I mean.” 

The spectators laughed, and (Y/n) rolled her eyes in response. Suddenly, she was glad she was hidden. She wouldn’t want her annoyed expression to give the wrong impression. She didn’t want to be labelled. The last thing she needed was to wake up and read some shitty news article painting her as a ‘diva’ and ‘ungrateful’. Gotham thrived on negativity, so once that was out there, she’d never recover from the defaming blow. Sexist jokes or not, fighting up against one of the most dominant television personalities in Gotham, as well as the media, was a deathwish careerwise. 

“Now that’s enough from me, you’re all probably sick of my face. Please welcome, (Y/n)!” 

Swiftly, the live band played their tunes, signalling her entrance. Murray directed attention to the infamous curtains, his arms stretching, his fingers wiggling towards the material. Screams of joy echoed off the studio walls.

At the sound, her hands raced to her form-fitting black dress, smoothing out the wrinkles before the curtain opened. When they did, they were slow. A cringe formed its way onto her face as the pully system squeaked along. As ready as she’ll ever be, she cemented a smile, hiding the wince, and walked through the drapes, deciding against waiting. 

Feeling a little dramatic, her form hunched over into a bow. A leg darted behind the other, with one hand in front, another resting against her back. Wolf whistles decorated the air at her arrival, though they were promptly replaced with roaring laughter as she made her way towards Murray and planted two firm kisses on both of his cheeks. Eventually, the clacking of her heels signified movement from the older man as she moved to occupy the yellow chair next to Murray’s desk.

Murray made a face after her display of affection, a look although (Y/n) couldn’t see, with his back towards her, she knew it transpired because of the public’s response. She could only imagine the face: one of shock and surprise, or perhaps confidence, as he winked towards them. Either way, both weren’t hard to envision, and the thought made short, distinct, puffs of air release from her nose in amusement.  

Shortly, he followed her lead and took a seat behind his table. 

“You’ve got some flare kid,” Murray chuckled, and (Y/n) could tell a genuine smile had replaced the false one. A twinge of pride wriggled in her chest at the realisation. 

“Are you nervous?” Murray asked suddenly, his eyes flying to the hands in her lap, fidgeting, “you seem nervous.” 

She shot the audience a look, her teeth clenched as her eyebrows flew up. 

“Yeah,” was all she said, her tone coming out high and unsure. 

Laughter. 

“You’re already doing great. This your first time on live television?”  

The reminder that this was live exacerbated her anxiety, her leg threatening to bounce. The pressure was on; if she screwed up, everyone would remember. 

“Pretty much,” a hint of fear wavered her voice, and the laugh that followed was shaky, “this is really surreal.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he flicked his wrist at her, “it’ll be second nature the way you’re headed.”

Her hands flew up to her cheeks, a tinge of pink coating the area while she tittered, “thank you, but I’m not so sure of that.”

“So humble!” 

Murray adjusted himself in his chair, his leg crossing over his other. He leaned forward towards the singer, form angled away from the onlookers. His concentration was solely on her.  

“So (Y/n), what have you got planned for us tonight?” 

A diffident expression crossed the woman’s features as she recalled her song.

“One of my favourites. Put On a Happy Face by Tony Bennett.” 

Murray nodded.

“Interesting choice. But, a classic.” 

His formerly interlocked hands were thrown into the air, giving a signal to the band. At this, (Y/n) stood up from her seat, and headed towards the already arranged set up towards the end of the stage. Once she arrived, she gripped the cylindrical microphone with both hands, its body supported by a stand. The object was cool against her heated fingertips.

The music started, the funk infectious and the woman’s hips began to sway.

---- 

Arthur barely held the gasp within him when he gazed upon (Y/n) ’s form, her flattering black dress a spectacle to behold. Her bow, cute and pure, converted the gasp he was restraining into a lovestruck sigh. 

He was sold, struck by the arrow of the little rascal Cupid himself. 

She looked just as good on TV.

He found it endearing how honest she was, admitting to her nerves. In his eyes, she was genuine, not like the scum that riddled Gotham’s streets; not like those who laughed at him; not like Randall. 

Similar to a child who was urgent to take in his favourite cartoon, he moved himself closer to the screen, a meter away at best, as he sat cross-legged. The tickling sensation of excitement shot throughout his slender body. 

As the music started playing, the overly happy tune seized him. When the camera panned on (Y/n) ’s walking form, he took in every little detail. The sigh she let out when she reached the microphone. The wobbling of her hands, which she tried to hide by clutching the device. The movement of her throat, suggesting a swallow. The jaw that clicked. 

Arthur saw it all.

Then, she started singing. 

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

The spectators interjected, drowning out a portion of the lyrics as they released sounds of support. 

As Arthur leant into his tv screen, he was absolutely convinced nothing could deter his eyes, his hypnosis. Not even the whining of his mum, who had been entirely obstructed from viewing the screen.

He hadn’t even realised she was there, he’d forgotten all about her.  

Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy

It’s not your style

You’ll look so good that you’ll be glad

You decide to smile

Arthur wished he was there in the room with (Y/n). In the crowd. To see her pretty (e/c) eyes glance over him and shoot him a wink. Or perhaps a smile. Anything - like the acknowledgement she gave him days prior. Just something to know that he really existed. That he wasn’t riding through life like a doormat - invisible, stepped on, beaten up and chucked around. No one really noticed the object, nor cared to, as it dejectedly rested below the door. Day after day.

Pick out a pleasant outlook

Stick out that noble chin

Wipe off that “full of doubt” look

Slap on a happy grin

Arthur began to grin when she saw her nerves were starting to leave her. Oh, how badly he wanted to applaud her. Encourage her. 

And spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy face

One hand released the microphone, moving to her face as she traced the outline of her upturned lips, a short, accidental giggle slipping out. It made Arthur’s heart swell! 

The band complemented her style perfectly. Their contrasting deep voices were melodic as they harmonised with her humming. 

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

Arthur found his form lightly swaying to the tune, his grin extending from ear to ear, impossibly deeper.  

She was really into it now, and he could tell she could feel the music rushing through her, now a conduit for the art. When he saw the confidence which had manifested, growing with each passing second, his mind swarmed with joy, his mind conjuring a bundle of soothing words he noiselessly projected through the cubic barrier before them - to her. 

And if you’re feeling cross and bickerish

Don’t sit and whine

Think of banana splits and licorice

And you’ll feel fine

She disconnected the microphone from the stand, bringing it under her chin. Quickly she departed from her spot with a small spin, strutting across the rest of the stage - something that got the fans rowdy; wooing. Her body swung to the beat, shoulders moving with her.

I knew a girl so gloomy

She’d never laugh or sing

She wouldn’t listen to me

Now she’s a mean old thing

Now incredibly expressive - antithetical from when she first began - she accompanied her singing by miming the lyrics. A fist rocked below her eyes imitating tears in a burlesque manner, and a fake frown contorted her features. Though, no matter how sad she pretended to be, Arthur knew just by the twinkle in her eyes that she was bursting with happiness.   

So spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy, happy face

Put on a happy, happy, happy face

During the final verse, she had moved closer to the camera, dragging out the closing note with a high. 

Oh, come on bubby, smile, it’s your birthday!

She made direct eye contact with the lens and winked. 

Arthur’s chest tightened at the action, and he couldn’t help but take it personally; as if the playful act was directly meant to be for him. Him and only him. 

Applause nearly deafened Arthur as it reverberated around the room, projecting shockingly loud for such a small device. Scrambling, his hands tried to lower the volume. Unfortunately, in his rush, his clumsy hands instead knocked up against another button, changing the channel entirely in the process. 

Regrettably for Arthur, the noise emitted only worsened. Although the tv was no longer on the Murray Franklin show, it was now on a channel playing an old war movie. Explosions and the earthshaking noises of artillery filled his crappy apartment, gunfire jolting his poor, unexpecting form. Letting out his shock with a shout, and a string of curses, his hands automatically moved to cover his ears - a reaction he midway stopped; gaining some control, he felt the device vibrate beneath his fingertips when they finally discovered the volume button. When he had readjusted the strength, he returned back to the station, free from the clamour, the show now on commercial break. 

He sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. 

Why was he so fucking clumsy? 

Even the smallest things he couldn’t seem to get right. 

Gentle snoring shifted his awareness from his self-deprecating mental exchange, and when he looked over to the noise, he saw his mother asleep in her chair. Her head was tilted against her shoulder, her mouth open. It was a sight that made him laugh through his nose; something that managed to halt the negativity which began to swarm in his mind, like a vicious cloud of hornets. 

Arthur didn’t know how his mother could one minute be the lightest sleeper on earth, then the next, swing to the other extreme. It was a miracle she slept through his fuck up, but then again, if she were in a deep sleep, he was confident enough to bet she’d sleep through a natural disaster. 

It was honestly impressive.

Emitting a soft groan as his palms pushed himself up from his sitting position, he trailed from one end of his apartment to the other. He opened one of the squeaking cabinets near the bathroom, the small storage space containing miscellaneous items. Though, it mostly harboured their modest collection of towels and blankets. As his eyes skimmed the shelves, from top to bottom, they soon fell onto what he was searching for. On the very bottom, his hands gripped onto an old quilt. It was soft to touch, though when he moved to collect it, he felt small pricks against his flesh as his arms maneuvered to fit its length. 

Feathers. 

The floral pattern, which was a chaotic blend of reds, pinks, whites and cremes was gaudy and straining to look at. Arthur guessed it was a victorian design, and it was quite apparent that it was a style he wasn’t fond of. He didn’t think he ever understood the things his mother liked. It was definitely a selective taste.  

Shaking away his absentmindedness, and the staredown he was giving the blanket in his hand, he moved back to the living room, rounding behind his mother’s chair as he gently placed the cover against her. She was still snoring, some of them morphing into snorts. He honestly did try to contain his giggling, but most of it slipped out. To try and lessen the ache in her neck she was bound to wake up with tomorrow, he lastly righted her position. 

The upbeat music coming from the tv began again, letting Arthur know his favourite show had returned. Hurried, his lips pressed up against his sleeping mother’s forehead before returning back to his spot in front of the tube.  

“Welcome back, everyone! If you’re just tuning in, we have the lovely (Y/n) with us.”

For what was probably the 100th time, the crowd responded to Murray, who was sitting back at his desk, gaze set towards the camera. 

“And I’ve got good news for you, kid!”

(Y/n) looked up at the host from her chair, eyebrows furrowing. 

“What do you-” 

Murray interrupted. 

“I’ve set you up with a few clubs. We can’t let talent like yours go on without reward, it would be a disservice. On behalf of Gotham city, I think we can all agree we need some joy in these troubling times, and your presence just seems to radiate it.”

(Y/n) was evidently stunned. Suddenly, to her, some of his awful jokes had been worth it. 

“This isn’t a prank, right?” she turned to the audience, eyes expanded wholly making the audience explode into chuckles. Arthur found himself joining in. 

“I assure you lovely, we wouldn’t do that to ya.” 

“Your first gigs gonna be at Pogo’s comedy club. And yes, although it is a comedy club, they’ve made an exception. It’s best to start small and work your way up into the bigger names.”

Arthur’s chest constricted. 

He went there all the time! 

He could see her perform!

Talk to her! 

Finally have the chance to introduce himse-

“So what do you say, darling?” Murray piped up, his eyes giving her an encouraging glance.

Arthur leaned forward, nose about to touch the screen in anticipation.

Her hands found her cheeks as she tried to conceal the spreading heat. Even in darkness, she was convinced the crimson flush would be bright enough to light up the room. While Murray had said a few off comments here and there, things she didn’t agree with, he truly had been welcoming to her. She thought maybe, just maybe, she had been too harsh on him.   

“I-I don’t know what to say?!” 

Please say yes - please say yes - please say yes. 

“You could say, yes?” Murray shot her a playful look.  

The woman finally nodded, adrenaline and joy manipulating her quaking frame, “yes! Yes! Thank you so much!” 

Arthur’s fists shook in the air, a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding, released.

(Y/n) got up from her seat, shooting up like a rocket as she made her way behind Murray’s desk. He followed her actions and removed himself from his chair, and accepted the hug she pulled him into with a ‘whoa’.

“Well, there you have it, folks! Pogo’s, Friday night, at seven. Be there or be square!” 

With a little whisper to (Y/n), she was sent off, back to the area with the microphone. 

“Goodnight, tune in next time, and always remember-”

Instantly, the legendary keyboard tune started playing, and (Y/n) prepared herself to sing once more. 

“-that’s life!” Arthur mimicked.

For one final performance, the camera panned away from Murray, setting on (Y/n) as the credits rolled. Arthur relished in the sound, the lyrics hitting his very soul. 

That’s life (that’s life), that’s what people say

You’re riding high in April, shot down in May

But, I know I’m gonna change that tune

When I’m back on top, back on top in June

I said, that’s life, (that’s life), and as funny as it may seem

Some people get their kicks,

Stompin’ on a dream

But I don’t let it, let it get me down

Cause, this fine old world it keeps spinning around

He sunk into the numbing feeling of the lyrics, forcing himself to close his eyes. He didn’t even realise the song was nearing its end until she reached the final verse.  

My, My!

With the expression of dazed euphoria, Arthur opened his eyes, watching her part from the microphone, the credits now over. 

“Thank you,” was the only thing she said, her beaming expression the last thing Arthur saw. 

The show ended. 

Arthur, who was abandoned by the gentle, radiant hue of the cube before him, was consumed by the darkness. It dwelled within the room as the device had been switched off by his lingering hand. 

He didn’t know how long he sat in silence for. His mother had finally stopped snoring.

He didn’t want to watch television; didn’t feel like it. He wanted to soak in the episode he’d just witnessed - flick through the memorable moments for the rest of the night. 

He wanted to think about what he’d say to (Y/n) when he finally met her officially - he wanted it to be perfect. While the little wave she gave him days ago would have been such an insignificant action to most, it wasn’t to Arthur. It was real.

And the fact that he knew it was, reeled him in like an unsuspecting fish speeding to bait. 

Well and truly, Arthur was bewitched.

The sombre air surrounding him - a mood that always seemed to cling to him - and the dim blue hue which encompassed his apartment, strangely didn’t feel so bad for once. Hell, he didn’t feel so bad for once.

With the image of her smile repeating in his head, he didn’t feel so...

Alone.