#his parents are obvious unsuited for caring for him

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 23

Valerie goes to free phantom after she turned him into the GIW. She ran into Martian manhunter along the way.

In her defense she didn’t know Danny and phantom were the same. She completely believed the whole non sentient destruction craving ghost bit. Both the Fentons and the government were pushing those beliefs and most of amity believed it. They did cost her dad his job after all.

But when sam and tucker confronted her as Valerie not even as red huntress about where phantom was she wasn’t gonna tell them. That is until they told her he was Danny with proof.

The issue now is, he had been moved so Valerie couldn’t even break him out without having to find him first. Tucker manages to hack them and get the location. Before they could argue about letting her go. There was a the sound of same front door being forced open. Sam and Tucker were being taken to be tested for contamination. Valerie manages to stay hidden while they were dragged of. Which left Valerie to fix this on her own.

Leaving amity she went Obviously as red huntress. She just hoped sam and tucker were being brought to the same place.

Now there was a green humanoid flying in front of her blocking her. Not a ghost her sensors didn’t go off.

At a certain point she gave up on just avoiding him. It was not working in her favor. So she just states it as it is. She is breaking into a government facility to break out three people hoping that they’ll forgive her for believing the government. She doesn’t have time to deal with whoever he is they already had Danny for three days.

She does end up getting benched. Mainly because they are questioning her. But Danny and crew do get rescued by a league of hero’s.

[lifewithaview]

Claire Foy in Little Dorrit (2008) Ep4

John Chivery is heart-broken when Amy rejects his marriage proposal, telling him she will never marry, though Arthur is clearly in her thoughts. News gets back to her father, who becomes self-pitying, hoping it will not alter the way John and his father regard him. Henry Gowan arrives at the Meagles' house. He is the 'unsuitable' young man who fancies Pet, but it is obvious that his presence is not welcomed by her parents, who hint to Arthur that he and she make a fine couple. Arthur returns to London with Daniel Doyce and visits his work-shop in the Bleeding Heart Yard where they formalize their business agreement. Cavaletto comes running into the yard, is knocked down by a horse and cared for by the Plornish family. He is running away from Rigaud, now calling himself Blandois, who goes to see Flintwinch, engaging in dastardly deeds to get a box in the latter's possession.

*When Pancks scans a page of Mr. Chivery's book at the Marshalsea, looking for information on Mr. Dorrit, one can see that the entry directly above William Dorrit's is that of John Dickens. Dickens was the father of Charles Dickens and an inmate of the Marshalsea Debtors' Prison for a few months in the 1820s. Besides the imprisonment date, John Dickens' year of birth was also altered.

[1000mammals]

Duri Duma

he is a specimen of a dumae dog breed i made up: light colored hounds, mix of gascon saintongeois and shar-pei. his skin is unusually soft, like velvet

god of dirt, yuck, slime and cigarettes.

duri is a shy young adult who grew up in unsanitary cluttered abandoned area unsuitable for kids. as a kid he didnt know who are his parents, didnt go to school and was very neglected. however he can read on a fifth-grader level. theres not many information about his past. in present life he lives in an abandoned dirty house, spends much more time with people his age, and may find some friends. his behavior is weird but he may have a good things ahead.

duri is cute and nice and has something appealing in him. but he can be very disgusting and nasty. he doesnt always realize it but when he realize it makes him very ashamed. and he often smells bad. dirt, burned walls, roaches, mold, rust and broken glass are normal things for him. clean homes, tidying, care and attemts to not break things are inexpressibly strange (sometimes he tries to clean his house but he doesnt know how so he just pour bleach everywhere and it makes everything worse)

he is often amused by common things (like clean white bath ot flat tv that actually works). smiles a lot, sometimes in unappropriate times. sometimes he is rude, insensitive and break things, it feels normal for him, doesnt understand why he (or anybody else) shouldnt do it and most likely will never change. while it may not be obvious but he is actually smart.

his most cherished childhood memory is when one of common unknown guests in his house got him a piece of "birthday cake" from somewhere. it had purple glaze and greenish cream (it could be mold) and used cigs for candles.

fav things: purple (lilac) and beige colors, cigarettes, cakes, white chocolade, his stolen kawaii beige headphones

[memento-morri-writes]

Hey! Happy Blorbo Blursday!

Have your characters ever dated? What’s their views on romantic love, is it something they want?

@italiangothicwriteblr

Hi Joy!! Sorry to answer this kind of late, akdjakds.

Fallon has dated, but not in years. The only relationships she's ever had were before her mother died, meaning she was < 22 at the time. Because of that, and the obvious lack of maturity that comes with being young, none of the relationships were very serious. When the story starts, Fallon does want to eventually date again, and knows that she kind of has to for the good of the kingdom. (Though in Anvia, adopted children are allowed to be heirs, so if she really didn't want to get married or have a child biologically, she wouldn't have to.) But she has a lot of trust issues because of her father's betrayal, and she has been keeping herself isolated and closed off from people, even the ones who truly care about her, for years now. So opening herself up (which is necessary for a healthy relationship) is going to be a struggle for her. She definitely dreams of romantic love, especially like the kind her grandmothers had. But she's definitely scarred by her parents' relationship, and she's very reluctant to pursue love, as well as doubtful that she can ever find a love like her grandmothers.

***

Kristopher has never actually dated anyone. All of his relationship experience comes in the form of flings, none of which lasted more than a week or so. This was very much intentional on his part, though. He knew that anyone he attached himself to would face the scrutiny and hatred of his family. He didn't want to subject anyone to that, so he never made any long-term attachments. He also made a habit of picking the most unsuitable people to spend his time with, another intentional choice meant to anger and upset his family. So no, he doesn't have any kind of relationship experience. To be honest, he doesn't believe that he can ever find love, nor that he deserves it. He likes the idea of being in love, but he's never felt that way about anyone, and he doesn't think anyone could ever feel that way about him. Which is why it's so shocking and hard for him to process his feelings about Fallon.

***

Dorian is aromantic, so he definitely isn't looking for love. He generally has a much more optimistic view of love, though. His parents were great role models when it comes to having a healthy, happy relationship. He kind of struggled with coming to terms with his aromanticism at first, because he wanted the same kind of long-lasting bond, and he always saw that depicted as romance. But he realized that you can have long-lasting, dedicated friendships too, and that is what he wants for himself. To have friends who love him and will never leave him, the same way a good romantic partner would do.

***

Ashlin has dated in the past, but never for very long. They just never seemed to get along with their dates, or to be able to find common ground. Sometimes it was their asexuality that ended the relationship, sometimes it was her stubborn and disagreeable nature, sometimes it was her thievery or impulsiveness. But either way, though she's dated quite a few people, Ashlin has never had a long-term, serious relationship. Which to be perfectly honest is fine by them. While they are capable of forming romantic attachments, that isn't something Ash feels like she needs in life. Generally, she tends to view herself as a loner, not needing anyone. But when it comes down to it, they do need people. She'd just prefer to have friends than romantic partners.

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette didn't need her parents to tell her for her to know that a heart was a finite thing. In a world where the feelings inside could be given away and put into gifts or objects, it was obvious that one would have to be careful with giving them away.

But that hadn't stopped her when Adrien Agreste came into her life after years of her feeling meek and isolated from others. She wanted to have a bond with someone: to give them something of hers where they'd feel the love she was putting inside. She wanted someone to understand her because they carried around a piece of her with them.

The first gift was a scarf, sewn lovingly for Adrien's birthday. She was shy at first, not wanting to overwhelm the boy, so it was only a dash - a sprinkle, really - of her love.

It ended up being passed off as a gift from his father. She did it without much regret, smiling at the knowledge that there would be other times. She busied herself in thought of her next gift by making a banner for a competition between Alix and Kim, inputting her hopes of good luck and safety for the two of them.

Somehow, it almost seemed to backfire as bad luck on her when Nadja Chamack came early to pick up a cake and she wasn't home.

She planned on putting her feelings of affection into a croissant during the day where her father had come along to talk about his work to the class. However, Adrien seemed too sad to focus on much of anything. She wound up slipping later on which sent the croissants all over the floor.

Then, there was the pigeon hat she'd made for a contest held by Gabriel Agreste, so naturally she only put a desire to win and earn respect inside. Of course, that went to Adrien without issue, but she tried to force down the level of bitterness at her own situation. It wasn't going to do her any good.

Her parents were always smiling; always friendly to others. She couldn't let herself feel the negativity of it all.

She just had to keep trying, no matter how many pieces of her heart she had to put into her gifts.

——-

A heart was a tender thing, beating in tune with emotion and body alike. Thus, when she saw the heart-shaped card Alya had brought her, she wrote her feelings into each letter, this time less shyly than before.

It must've been her fault, after all, that it wasn't working. She was being too meek, and thus she needed to be daring and bold to give her gift the power it needed.

Only, she got distracted before she could sign the card, and her feelings went unmarked once again.

In hindsight, she could've infused her feelings into the lucky charm she had let him borrow when they were practicing for a gaming tournament, but it was considered poor practice to essentially loan someone your feelings. It would've been cheap, temporary, and an easy way out.

As if fate was trying to spite her, she never got it back anyway.

——-

Really, she should've known that Jagged Stone would feel her lack of care and enthusiasm when she handed over the unsuitable pair of glasses. He winced as soon as he touched it, disappointment clouding his expression.

When she made him a pair for real, though, putting her determination to do things right inside, she felt the opposite. Of course, she never got to see the reaction for herself, but she felt it. She knew when it had gone into his hands and could feel the sense of pride and energy for her work.

She became a fan instantly, and it filled her heart just a little when it had been drained in every other way before. She saw him smiling on stage with her gift blatantly on his face, and for once, her effort had felt worth it, like it meant something to someone.

Her spirits were renewed, and that was her mistake, because her next gift to Adrien - a Christmas gift, filled with hope of a good Christmas for him - was something he gave away to someone else, apparently oblivious to the feelings inside.

Hearts were easily swayed, rising and falling with the slightest shifts in mood. Marinette had been that way her whole life, fluctuating from one emotion to the next because that was simply how she lived her life. She didn't long for much, only to be loved, respected, and cared for, as anyone would.

But to have that sort of bond, she couldn't keep her heart to herself. She had to be willing to give some of it away.

——-

Marinette had heard of other ways that people could give their feelings away besides gifts, objects, and food, but she'd never experienced it herself before Luka Couffaine. She had initially embarrassed herself, but he wasn't put off or weirded out; rather, he giggled, and at the slightest sign that she was hurt by the gesture, he reached for the nearby guitar.

Normally, when giving someone a gift, they had to hold onto it for either them or the giver to feel anything at all. Luka's music wasn't quite like that. Every note he played felt as though it was pleasantly tickling her skin, never invading inside but lingering just long enough for her to understand how he felt; to understand that he understood how she felt. It wasn't a gift that she was expected to hold onto, but rather an invitation into his world.

She took it, and if she slid a little close to him on his bed, the only indicator was the way his smile widened, warm and welcoming.

——-

Like walking on the fence between two roads, watching the cars on either side drive by and waiting for a moment to pass, Marinette observed the feelings she was giving away and the ones she was given.

A passion fruit macaron as a gift seemed so harmless and simple until she had to watch it be kicked around like a hacky sack. Adrien never even ate it and it only caused trouble for her. Dinner with her parents that evening tasted like disappointment and embarrassment, though she couldn't tell if that was her feelings or her parents' in her.

"It'll go better next time" turned to "Figures." A letter meant for Adrien turned into a big mix-up that was both humiliating and (at this point naturally) blamed fully on her rather than a woman who refused to read the entire letter. Her own genuine mistakes or clumsiness turned to an evil cousin doppelganger deleting a heartfelt message.

Everyone seemed ignorant to it. She "wasn't trying hard enough," she just "needed to work up the courage," because they were "made for each other" and they refused to let her give up when she'd liked Adrien for as long as she did (i.e: a few months).

Faintly, she wondered what that really meant: to be made for one another. Did that mean that everything she was doing was predetermined? That everything that happened was just stepping in stride with footprints in the snow?

Was she meant to suffer and fail until some otherworldly force decided that she didn't have to anymore?

She didn't want that.

On the other end of the spectrum, being with Luka was easy. They sought each other out, she didn't have to pine for his attention to be noticed, and she slowly discovered that there were even more ways to share one's feelings.

She hadn't realized it at first, and maybe no one ever told her specifically because it was so natural.

It was in all the little things. The brushing of their hands when they passed her sketchpad back and forth exchanged hopes of approval and reassurance. The brief looks they shared when they sat by each other during creative sessions got across admiration and confidence in their work. The waves of "hello"s and "goodbye"s brought with them enthusiasm and longing for tomorrows respectively.

It didn't linger in a way she could physically feel, but it lingered in her mind. She'd never shared a wavelength like that with someone before and imagined that it must've been rare.

There were no expectations. No particular daydreams or unhappiness in where they were. Marinette found, however, that it was nice, because it meant that every part of their relationship was a genuinely happy one, and she didn't have to be dissatisfied with any of it.

The heart screams for what it can't have, but when she's tired or stressed out, her mind drifts to the calm that she can only feel around him instead.

——-

Marinette had been ready. She had already designed the beret that she intended to give Adrien with the intent of it matching his shirt. She had gotten all of the necessary supplies from the stores. At this point, it was reflex, and the hopes had been that celebrating his fifth name's day would show that she was dedicated and cared.

However, it became apparent that something was wrong even as she'd just started. There was a change, something that had perhaps been there for a while that she hadn't noticed.

She couldn't sew her feelings into the beret. She even tried to dig deep, searching, ransacking her heart to find what she was looking for.

But it was for naught. She had given, given, given those pieces of herself reserved for Adrien away, and now there was nothing left. Her hands shook when she dropped the pathetic amount of work she had done on the beret, yet there was also a part of her that wasn't as surprised as she thought she should be.

Stranger still, and pleasantly so, was that she didn't miss what she'd lost.

For a time, Marinette grieved, not for the feelings for the crush that had been lost, but for the time. Even if she had gotten together with Adrien, there were hours, days, weeks, maybe even over a month's worth of wasted effort that she would never get back. It was a hard lesson to learn, enforced by the thought of all the gifts and letters filled with her love that had been either kept away from a loving touch or dropped into the trash.

But for once, she could think about her crush with her head rather than her heart, and she was all the more grateful for it. She'd been a fool in love—no, a fool simply infatuated.

——-

It took time for her to put her heart back into anything. She kept it in a cage, knowing deep down that it was wrong but afraid to long for more. At best, she put pieces of herself into treats she made for her parents, but even that didn't feel very fulfilling.

There were mixed reactions all around; some had insisted that she was in denial and that they knew better, but Marinette ignored them. She hated the idea that she had been defined by her crush, though Luka - for his part - smiled when she told him and listened to her vent without any judgment or unnecessary comments.

It was also then when she noticed the low cut of his shirt, exposing an expanse of skin that she couldn't help thinking was distinctly empty and missing something. With the time that'd been freed up, she thought a necklace might look good on him and immediately got to work.

She hadn't realized that she was opening her heart again until she'd checked on her progress in the morning, touching the necklace and realizing that she'd put love inside without even thinking. It wasn't one note like it had been with Adrien either, it was complex like the melding of flavors in a high end dish.

Love for the comfort he'd offered her, love for the music he played for her, love for the creative sessions they share, and love for everything that was him. It'd been unexpected and sudden, yet there was a lightness in her chest when she remembered that he'd once hinted that he liked her as well.

She stopped working on the necklace for a day, taking a walk and spending her time thinking. Having learned from before, she wanted to truly consider her needs and if she could be happy trying once again. That being said, however, the situations were so different that it didn't take long for her to come to a sure answer.

During her next call to Luka, she asked him out. She'd never heard him answer "yes" so quickly before.

——-

Jagged Stone popped into the bakery the day before she'd meant to go out with Luka, and the idea of him signing the necklace popped into her head immediately afterwards. There was something almost poetic in how the only one who proudly boasted about and wore something she'd made around beyond the day she'd given it to him was now helping her prepare a gift for someone else.

Meeting with Luka went surprisingly normal for her. He showed up at her door and walked alongside her on the way to the theater. They babbled the whole way, playing games with each other and bonding over shared interests. It was almost scary the way she kept anticipating and bracing herself for something to go wrong considering that she was so used to it.

She never wanted to feel that way again: to be afraid of being happy because that was normally when everything went wrong. She didn't want to fear love and wanting to be loved due to her past experiences.

She deserved to be happy, loved, and cared for. Whether the universe agreed or not, she wasn't going to give up. She wanted Luka, and she was becoming more and more certain that he wanted her too.

She ensured that the previews before the movie were still playing when she presented her gift as a congratulatory prize. Even with only the screen illuminating them, she could see the way Luka's eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

She explained the present and Jagged's involvement in it as he stared, then watched with bated breath as his free hand reached to pull it out. His fingertips came into contact and he let out a strangled noise, the gift box almost dropping into his lap before he grabbed it again.

Immediately, his wide eyes searched hers, asking for confirmation on a matter he already knew. He'd felt the gift himself - he knew what it meant - but there was so much that she'd put inside of it.

"I'm glad I met you," "I cherish the time we spend together," "You make me happy," "I love you," "I want to kiss you," and "I already adore what we have, but if you want more too, then..."

Luka looked from her, to the gift, and then back again. Marinette wanted to ask what he thought, but her heart felt as though it'd leapt into her throat when he lifted the gift and put it around his neck. His eyes were so soft and fond staring at the present that she almost cried.

Her feelings had been reciprocated. She knew without him saying it in that magical way they communicated wordlessly. Nevertheless, his hand touched her cheek and he whispered his reply against her lips just before they connected with his own.

Thus, two hearts came together as one, and her feelings never went unheard again.

[charliedawn]

Could you do one where the reader is Rhaenyra 2nd oldest( daughter) and is in a relationship with ameond

If you cant could you do where the reader is the daughter of cersei and Robert barrahton and is in a relationship with either oberon /podrick or bronn

Being the queen's daughter held certain advantages, as being able to meet many different people coming from places close and far away...Too bad your heart decided to choose its champion so close to home.

You were Rhaenyra's second daughter, the most eligible bachelor in the whole kingdom. And yet, there was only one man who had succeeded in piercing his way into your heart...Aemond.

Aemond Targaryen. The fierce warrior. The proud Targaryen prince. The skillful dragon rider.

Your beloved cousin.

That fact was the curse cast upon you.

For even though you could have fallen in love with any man in the kingdom—married a rich lord to bring honor to the family...Your heart had decided otherwise.

At every family reunion, you had always taken his side, arguing alongside him, even though you knew the argument to be a fool's errand—that it was doomed for failure from the start.

He had once asked you why, and you had only sweetly smiled up at him, as if he was the man who would make the stars rain and the sea boil..You looked at him with such adoration—he was found speechless.

"I shall always stand by your side. In happiness and come what may..", was your genuine answer and Aemond felt his heart stir within his chest.

He had never wanted someone more in his life, and no words of love had even been exchanged yet. You didn't need them.

Aemond's valid eye lit up as he raised his cup.

"To Y/N. My favorite little Targaryen. May you always remain by my side."

The room remained quiet—no one had expected Aemond to make such a statement. Everyone cheered and clapped—all but the people who knew you both the best.

Your parents glared daggers at Aemond and his mother's jaw twitched at the obvious way her son was looking at you.

However, you only saw Aemond at that moment—the ghosts of the past be damned. You raised your cup in return and when your knuckles brushed against each other, you could have sworn to see the glimpse of a smile on Aemond's face.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

But, it quickly disappeared when your father decided to step in and lead you away—unaware that Aemond was going to follow the both of you.

Once outside of the room :

Your mother was already waiting for you and once your father had made sure no soul was nearby—he started talking.

"You think we are not aware of that little affair with Aemond ? You are playing a dangerous game, Y/N. One you won't win."

Your father knew better than most how the matters of the heart could consume one's being. He had seen it many times before, he just didn't think the fire would ignite at such a young age within his favorite daughter..

"I love him."

There had been no hesitation whatsoever from you and Rhaenyra decided to second her husband's cautious warning.

"I fear Aemond might be unsuitable for you—darling daughter of mine."

You frowned and shook your head—confused as to the reason they would oppose your union.

"Why ? He is ambitious. He is loyal to his family. If anything, he sounds like father."

"It is the very thing I fear.", Daemon replied and you could see the clear worry in his eyes—demons of his past haunting him to this day. "I married your mother for love, but the people's voice matters, Y/N. We already had one Targaryen marriage, another one would weaken our image in the eyes of those we must protect.."

You knew he was right—but it didn't make it any less unfair as you felt tears run down your cheeks.

Your mother—who hadn't been insensible to your situation—tried to soothe you by running a hand up and down your back as you hid your tearful face against her shoulder.

"Be careful about who you open your heart to, daughter. Aemond is my father's son. He shall ascend the throne one day. He will become a man with power—they are the most dangerous for people like us. Don't forget that you are a woman, Y/N. Men like him are bound to become treacherous, and it wouldn't take you long to betray him in return."

You gasped—outraged at the accusation as you shook your head vividly.

"You do not understand, mother. I would never betray Aemond—even if I knew the whole world was against him—I could never ignore my love for him—even if the Ancestors shall strike me down this instant."

Aemond—who had heard enough—stepped forward and declared.

"And I shall neither. Not in this life—nor in any other."

"I..I mean..I would never do anything to hurt her."

Both of your parents and yourself—who hadn't expected the intrusion—snapped your heads at him.

Aemond suddenly felt a lot less confident with all those pairs of eyes on him and took a step back.

Daemon could feel the young man's sincerity in his voice, but shook his head.

"You are both too young. You don't know what love is."

You opened your mouth to deny, but you father didn't leave you the time.

You tried to struggle against his grip as he dragged you out of the castle and Aemond tried to run after you—but was stopped by your mother.

"Don't. Y/N is still a child. She doesn't understand the duties that you shall both soon have to bear..Leave us a few years, and if you both still feel the same when we return ? We won't stop you."

"Don't forget about me, Y/N.."

Aemond wanted to protest—but then thought about it and reluctantly agreed. He trusted you. He could wait.

He looked at your mother walking away and his face let the smallest hint of worry as you were now completely out of sight.

A few years later :

It had been a long time since your last visit to King's Landing. Father had tried to marry you off many times already, but all the lords who had dared ask for your hand had been highly disappointed by your lack of conversation and courtesy—even though everyone close to you knew it was only a pretense.

You were everything a lady was to strive for—but you had no intention of marrying anyone but the man of your choosing.

You had chanted his name in your sleep and spent every waking hour of the past few years thinking of a way to get the very man you knew you could never have..until your mother had decided to go visit King's Landing, where—she convinced your father—you would find more eligible bachelors to be sold off to.

When the ship finally settled ashore, you were the first one out and didn't wait for your father or mother to run in the streets of the great city.

However, you didn't expect to be running straight into trouble—as you bumped against a drunken man who grabbed your arm.

"Where are you running off to, girl ? Don't you know the streets of King's Landing are no place for a lovely woman like yourself to wander on her own ?"

You gulped and took a couple of steps back, realizing only now that you were far from the port and the safety of your father's sword..He cackled and cornered you in a dark alley.

You had nowhere to run.

You then saw a man on a horse ride past the both of you and you screamed for help, but he ignored your pleas and only galloped away.

The other man laughed and was about to grab you with his big and filthy hands when a sword pierced through his neck, rendering the both of you speechless as he tumbled to the side and blood started pouring through his mouth and wound in great abundance.

You only looked up at your savior once you knew the man to be unmistakably dead and your eyes widened as you recognized Aemond.

He seemed to do too.

"Y/N. I was not made aware of your arrival.", he said before wiping his sword on the man's coat—unbothered by the whole ordeal.

You had imagined your reunion for years.

And yet—as he was standing there with his head tilted quizzically, waiting for an answer—you could not find the will to speak up.

You stood up slowly and Aemond promptly aimed to help you—only to be stopped by Daemon who had succeeded in finding you. Your father's sword was now under Aemond's chin and he quickly held his hands up in surrender.

Daemon assessed the situation by seeing the corpse of the man at your feet and his eyes softened as he looked you up and down for any sign of injury.

"I am fine. Aemond saved me.", you reassured him and Daemon finally turned back towards Aemond who still had his hands raised.

Finally, your father lowered his sword and Aemond smiled at you. It didn't go unnoticed by your father.

"Come back to the castle, Aemond. We will see each other there."

It was a warning—one Aemond understood quite clearly. And yet—his eye fell on you one more time and all the emotions you had tried to repress came back—rushing to you like a violent torrent.

"I shall see you soon then, my princess."

He kissed the back of your hand and addressed you a charming smile before disappearing among the crowd.

Was it too soon to swoon ? Probably.

You held back your excitement in front of your father, but your excitement was quickly tamed down completely by his next words—leaving you cold inside.

"Do not forget what we are here for, daughter. Aemond is not in the list of suitors. He refused to be."

He refused to be.

Indeed, you had run your eyes through the long list of names your mother had given you of the many men who had asked for your hand—only to not find the one you wished for the most.

The words hurt you more than you cared to admit—but you nodded.

"I know of my duty, father. I shall make you proud."

Your father smiled and stroked your hair affectionately.

"I know you will, daughter. Now, let us get back to the boat. Your mother must be worried sick."

In the castle :

The moment you had entered the castle, you were overwhelmed by suitors—presenting themselves with flowers and many other gifts to heighten their chance to be part of the Targaryen family.

Your cousin was there, but he stood silently to the side—watching as the suitors kept following each other endlessly.

Finally, one of the suitors seemed to gain your attention—as his gift was unlike anything you had ever seen.

"A sword made of valyrian steel and forged with dragon fire. For you, princess."

Your eyes slightly widened at the beautiful sword and you smiled. You had not smiled at any of the suitors who had been in your presence and you could see the man's face lit up—while Aemond's expression darkened.

The suitor—who had introduced himself while you hadn't been listening—stepped up towards you to show you the sword.

It was beautiful. You ran your fingers on the smooth blade and in a matter of seconds—you plunged the sword in the suitor's stomach to its hilt.

You knew who he was. You had recognized him—even though he had only rode past you during the act. He was the man who had ignored your desperate calls for help when you had been cornered by that terrible man in that dark and putrid alley..

You then let his body fall down the stairs and leave a trail of blood in his wake.

"It seems scum has succeeded in making its way into your list, father. A shame. None of them shall have my hand today.", you declared while a pool of blood was forming at your feet and your father frowned in incomprehension.

Aemond—on the other hand—seemed to admire you and his affection for you showed in the way he was the only one who remained calm in front of the slaughter.

Only Aemond knew of the reason for your action and didn't hesitate before trempling the corpse, walking in his blood to get to you and take the sword from your hand.

It fell to the floor and you felt tears prickle your eyes. But, Aemond held you.

"Ssh..Do not cry, my love. He deserved it."

Your heart was racing, but Aemond's words soothed you and you took a big breath—his light fragrance of leather and pine cones filling your senses.

You held him closer.

"Out ! All of you !", Alicent shouted and the suitors all obeyed—all eager to get out before they could end up with the same fate as the man now dead at the bottom of the stairs.

"What have you done ?!", Alicent demanded as soon as they were all out, but you refused to give her an answer. However, your father then asked and you had to begrudgingly leave the comfort of Aemond's arms to finally answer.

"He was a bad man. No one will miss him. I assure you."

Your father seemed to suddenly understand and was a little less upset as to the death of the man—but all the same upset at your action.

"You should have let me handle it. You just frightened all your suitors away !", your father accused you—but you stubbornly replied.

"My choice has already been made."

Everyone in the room stopped talking at your claim and held their breath as you didn't hesitate before confirming out loud.

"I shall marry Aemond of House Targaryen !"

The news had the effect of turning every single person in the throne room against each other.

"And I shall take you as my wife ! May the gods be my witnesses ! I have waited long enough."

Aemond's mother sneered—not expecting her son to respond in kind.

But, Aemond didn't even hesitate before replying in agreement.

He took a step towards you, but was stopped by his mother who pleaded with him.

"Aemond. Please."

But, he pulled away from her grip to take your hand.

"No. No more waiting. You erased my name from the list of suitors, but I am now old enough to present myself before the woman I intend to conquer."

He turned towards you and knelt before you, holding both of your hands in his and the fire of the candles made his valid eye brighten as he pronounced his next words softly.

"Lady Y/N of House Targaryen. I present myself humbly before you to ask for your hand. The House of the Dragon shall be brought back to its ancient glory with you by my side. I am sure of it."

You couldn't bite back your smile of utter joy and replied enthusiastically.

"Yes. It was yes all those years ago. And, it is yes today. It will always be yes."

You smiled lovingly at each other and you leant forward to kiss him passionately—with the same burning passion you had been forced to withhold for years..Aemond answering with the same vigorous eagerness.

You ignored the many shocked gasps and the fury in the eyes of both of your parents.

Daemon broke the both of you apart to push Aemond away from you.

"Hurt him. And your daughter dies tonight.", Alicent warned him, but Daemon scoffed mockingly at her.

"You defiled her !", Daemon screamed and withdrew his sword—but you stepped before Aemond with your arms outstretched, prepared to protect him against everything and everyone.

But, you didn't need to, as Alicent was all too eager to save her son as you were.

"You ? Making threats ? Don't make me laugh. I am prepared to face the consequences, and kill all of you if it means protecting my daughter."

However, you didn't expect your mother to join you as she sighed and took your hand to show her support.

He glared at Alicent and her eyes widened in shock at the determination she saw there.

He was prepared to kill them all. But, so was she.

"What is done is done, husband. Stand down.", she commanded.

She seemed so powerful and you could feel the raw majesty radiating from her. She was the only queen your father would ever bow to—and he finally did.

His sword clattered to the floor and he sighed in defeat.

"You already knew...I never stood a chance against you, did I ?"

Your mother addressed him a sad—but sympathetic—smile as she replied knowingly.

"We both knew that it was love from the moment they said it all those years ago. We were just not ready to let her go—but we are now."

She then turned towards the both of you with a bright smile—even though her eyes betrayed the sadness of seeing her own daughter make the same mistake as her. She gently ran her hand down your cheek and kissed your forehead.

"I doubt it will help you, but I give you my blessing."

Your eyes were glassy—filled with tears as you knew the truth of what she was agreeing to.

You both knew you were probably doomed—but had both chosen your own path to happiness. Hers was standing next to Daemon, and yours remained alongside Aemond.

"Thank you...mother."

You uttered weakly and your voice shaking with the emotions you felt.

"I SHALL NOT LET THIS MASQUERADE GO ON ANY LONGER ! I WILL NEVER GIVE YOU MY BLESSING ! THIS IS AN ABOMINATION !", Alicent yelled in a frenzy and you all looked at her with widened eyes.

But, Aemond reacted first and—to the whole assembly's surprise—took her in his arms.

"Let me go...mother.", he whispered and Alicent stilled.

She then broke into tears and wrapped her arms around her son's shoulders, crying out.

"I can't..You are everything I have left.", she finally admitted and Aemond closed his valid eye—internally conflicted as to how to convince his mother that it would be alright.

You could see Aemond was struggling and you smiled before taking Alicent's hand.

"Do not see an enemy in me, lady Alicent. See our relationship as a way to get our families even more united. It is high time for the great house of the Dragon to stand proudly together."

Alicent seemed unsure at first—but finally conceded.

"Alright. But, know that this will only lead to disaster."

You held a scoff. You knew, better than anyone.

"If I shall fall, then so be it. I shall not fall alone."

It would be you and Aemond—until the wrath of the Dragon would take you both and bury you under its ashes.

Aemond intwined your fingers—as if to agree with you—and this time, nobody interfered when you kissed again.

You knew Aemond better than anyone—you had almost been crafted for him and even if the house of Dragon came to an end—you were certain of your choice.

[marjansmarwani]

I can’t let go of all the things I hoped we’d be

6.3k || ao3

There was someone missing. “Where’s TK?”

His parents exchanged a look and Carlos felt his heart sink. Why wouldn’t they just tell him where his boyfriend was? He might not know what had happened but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what it was, TK would be by his side; unless he couldn’t be.

“Dad,” he tried again, shifting his gaze to his father, “just tell me. Please.”

------

After an accident Carlos is left to deal with the aftermath as he waits and hopes for the best, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to survive the alternative.

Written for day 1 of @911lonestarangstweek 

The prompt was “c” and the obvious ones are “car crash” and “coma” but there are about 10 in here, see if you can spot them all 💜

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

The bed beneath him felt harder than he was used to.

He scoffed silently, thinking about how TK had assured him it just meant they needed to break in their new mattress and that these things just take time, babe.

There was only so much time he was willing to give before a new mattress was deemed unsuitable though. They both had very physical and demanding jobs and they both deserved to have a nice mattress, damnnit. He opened his eyes and rolled over to say as much to his boyfriend but when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t met with the familiar soft gray of their bedroom. In fact, he quickly realized as the harsh lights above him forced him to squint and he shifted on scratchy sheets, now that he was more aware it became clear that this wasn’t their bed after all.  

Hospital, his mind provided. That would explain the too-bright lights and the beeping machines just beyond his peripheral. He blinked again and the room came more into focus, as did the two occupants of the chairs beside the bed.

His dad was the first to notice his open eyes. He looked exhausted and was turning his hat over in his hands in that way he did when he was nervous, but when he looked up and met Carlos’s eyes some of the tension seemed to fall away.

“Carlitos,” he breathed, and an instant later his mother’s eyes were on him too; wide and tear-filled. She was up in an instant, beside his bed and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before he could even blink.

“It’s so good to see your eyes open,” she said softly, “you scared us, mijo.”

“Sorry,” he said on reflex, only then noticing how raspy his voice was. He gratefully took the water offered to him by his father, trying to pull his thoughts in order as he sipped. He could remember this afternoon clearly, but everything after was a haze. He frowned as he looked down at his body, taking in the cuts on his arms, pain in his ribs, and the weight of a cast on his left leg.

“What happened?” he asked his parents, blinking at them owlishly.

They looked at each other for a moment before his dad answered him with a question: “What do you remember, Carlitos?”

Carlos shook his head, “Nothing after this afternoon. I remember getting home and...wait,” he paused, looking around the room. There was someone missing. “Where’s TK?”

His parents exchanged another look and Carlos felt his heart sink, “Mom, Dad, just tell me where he is.”

His voice was shaking now but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The look his parents were giving each other sent his heart racing. Why wouldn’t they just tell him where his boyfriend was? He might not know what had happened but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what it was, TK would be by his side; unless he couldn’t be.

“Dad,” he tried again, shifting his gaze to his father, “just tell me. Please.”

His dad gave his mother another look before he sighed and looked back at Carlos.

“There was an accident…” was all he said, but it was all Carlos needed to hear before some switch was flipped and the memories came rushing back to him.

-----------

It’s the commotion that wakes him, he thinks.

Opening his eyes is harder than it should be but when he does manage to peel them open he is greeted by the reflection of flashing light on the wet street and the sound of unfamiliar voices nearby. Those observations are quickly followed by the pain.

It rips through him once awareness returns and he can’t help the noise that slips out of his mouth, drawing the attention of a figure outside his door. They shifted closer, bending down to peer at him through the remains of his window.

“Sir, I need you to hold still for me until—” but then the voice breaks off suddenly and lost the air of professionalism as they cursed, “Shit! Donovan, the driver is Reyes!”

“Carlos?” Another voice said from somewhere farther away, “Fuck, is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” the voice next to him responds before leaning closer, “Hey, Reyes, can you tell me if anything hurts?”

And Carlos knew he should. Between being a cop and living with a paramedic for two years, he knew all the ins and outs of an accident from just about every angle. But he couldn’t make his brain focus on that yet. There was only one thought in his mind, and that was what he managed to get through his lips: “TK?”

He felt the hand on his still and heard the crunching of boots on glass telling him that his visitor was shifting, likely looking past him towards the passenger seat, where TK should be.

He didn’t miss the muttered curse that followed the action and his heart began to race as he heard the question asked: “Donovan, what’s the ETA on that RA unit?”

“3 minutes, why?”

“Tell dispatch they need to make it less.”

“Is Carlos…”

“It’s not for him.”

And Carlos somehow found it in himself to turn, despite the hand’s attempts to stop him and the protests that he shouldn’t move. The sight he saw froze him more than anything else could as fear and a different kind of pain rushed through his battered body.

TK was sprawled against the dashboard beside him. There was blood leaking from his hairline and he was so, so terribly still.

And in that moment, Carlos forgot how to breathe.

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

TK was rushed to surgery as soon as they arrived at the hospital, his parents told him. There was significant concern about internal bleeding and a traumatic brain injury. His broken ribs, his mother told him gently, punctured his lung; leading to a hemothorax. Paramedics treated him as soon as possible before rushing him to the hospital but with them both unconscious no one is sure when it happened or how long he was drowning in his own blood. They knew his brain was deprived of oxygen for a period of time; they just didn’t know how long that was and what the effects might be.

It’s all so much and Carlos could feel himself spiraling. His dad must have noticed too because he stepped closer, eyes full of concern as he laid a hand on Carlos’s arm.

“Breathe for me, Carlitos,” he instructed, voice gentle but firm. “It’s going to be okay.”

He did manage to take the breaths requested of him and when he found his voice he looked to his dad. “Is it?” he asked skeptically, “TK nearly died and from the sounds of it, he still might. What part of that is okay?”

His dad opened his mouth as if to say something before faltering and Carlos felt his dread grow.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered, causing his mother to frown at him.

“What do you mean, Carlos? Of course this is not your fault.”

“I was driving,” he reminded her, “how is this not my fault?”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” his father told him firmly. “This was an accident. The roads were wet, it was dark; anything could have happened.”

“But I was still the one behind the wheel,” Carlos said dully, “and TK is the one who is in danger. It doesn’t seem fair.”

His mother gave him a sympathetic look before she carefully bent down to wrap her arms around him, doing her best to provide him comfort without jarring his ribs, “Things like this never are,” she told him softly. “But that doesn’t mean it is your fault. TK would tell you the same thing.”

Carlos didn’t say anything to that, leaning into the comfort his mother provided and letting the tears silently fall down his face instead. But she hadn’t been there and now that Carlos could remember the sights and the feelings, he couldn’t stop this fear. It fed the next thought that entered into his head, echoing through all the corners of his mind: TK probably would, but thanks to Carlos, he might never have the chance to.

----------

“Reyes,” the officer at his window — Nate Quinones, Carlos had eventually realized — tried again before switching approaches, “Carlos! You need to keep still! We don’t know what kind of injuries you have, you need to stay still until fire gets to you so you don’t make anything worse.”

But as Carlos watched the newly arrived paramedic team assess TK, he was fairly certain that there was no way anything could be worse. The captain looked grim as he did his initial exam and when he turned to talk to his team it was with quick words and a low voice. Carlos tried to lean closer to hear, tried to put a hand out to reach TK but he was pinned by the steering wheel and couldn’t reach him. Carlos would be frustrated by it if he wasn’t so busy being fucking terrified that TK hadn’t moved in all this time, hadn’t even reacted to the arrival of the first responders or the unfamiliar hands on him.

“TK…” he tried to protest, but Nate shook his head.

“I know this is hard,” he said more softly, “and I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling, but you need to trust that the paramedics are doing their jobs and take care of yourself for now. Besides,” he added with a forced smile, “how would your boy feel about you doubting the paramedics?”

Carlos wanted to laugh at that, he could picture TK’s affronted look in his head. But the grim reality in front of him eclipsed all thoughts of humor because what could ever be funny when he might lose TK?

“I need…” he tried to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. His colleague seemed to get the gist of what he was trying to say though and shook his head.

“All you need to do right now is hold still. A second crew just pulled so I’m sure they’ll be getting you out of here in no time.”

Carlos wanted to argue, he really did. But his body wouldn’t let him. It was taking all the energy he had to simply be present. Any extra he had was going towards staring helplessly at TK, and toward the desperate hope that he was okay.

He focused on that thought as he watched them extract TK from the car and lower him to the ground. He couldn’t see him now but he could hear the measured tones of the paramedics as they worked. His mind was still foggy and he wasn’t following much but what he did hear did nothing to calm his nerves. He may not be able to understand the words but he knew the tone: it was the type reserved for the worst cases, for the ones when each moment mattered the most. Carlos had heard that tone in the field more times than he could count, but had never thought he would have to hear it directed at his own boyfriend. This entire thing, every single second, has been a nightmare that he is desperate to wake up from.

He was vaguely aware of the presence of a fire crew at his side, of their efforts to free him from the remains of his Camaro. But he couldn’t focus on that—not when TK was mere feet away and in trouble. But soon enough the noise of the jaws blocked out the sound of the paramedics working on TK regardless of how hard he strained to hear them.

It took some time but eventually, he was out, being hoisted out of his car by several pairs of strong arms. Soon enough he was on his feet and instantly he was searching for TK. He heard the noise before he found him and the words drifting through the night air were enough to grind his world to a halt: “We’ve lost respirations, Cap.”

“Start compressions,” the captain instructed as he continued to work. “Stalh, get the ambu bag going.”

Carlos’s mind was still spinning with pain and confusion, but the sight of TK on the ground before him with someone else pushing the air into his lungs and someone else pumping his heart and pushing the blood through his veins came to him with stark clarity. He tried to get to him but he found he couldn’t move. That didn’t seem right but then again TK was on the ground not even 20 feet from him and he wasn’t breathing. Nothing was right about this.

“Still nothing, Cap,” one of the paramedics noted and Carlos could feel the world around him start spinning far too fast for him to follow.

“Get him on a gurney,” the captain instructed, “we need to get him to the ER now. Don’t stop compressions, Valdez.”

Valdez said something back but Carlos didn’t catch what it was. Everything was fading out, his vision was turning dark. He felt his knees buckle and more hands on him and the last thing he saw was the sight of TK being lifted onto a gurney with the paramedics still working frantically to keep his heart beating as he was swallowed by darkness.

----------

His dad’s phone buzzed about an hour after Carlos woke up. He checked it surreptitiously but Carlos tracked his movements, studying his expression. He just knew it had to do with TK and it was all he could do to stop himself from jumping out of bed to see the news for himself. It was only the pain in his ribs and the knowledge that his mother would murder him kept him stationary as he waited with bated breath for the knowledge that hung over him like a verdict.

“He’s out of surgery,” his father announced eventually after typing out a reply. “Owen said he’s being moved to a recovery room soon.”

“And?” Carlos prompted, voice taut, “How did it go? How is he?”

“He’s hanging on,” Gabriel replied, pocketing his phone and stepping closer. He clapped a hand on Carlos’s shoulder and squeezed, “don’t count him out yet, mijo. That boy of yours has a lot of fight in him.”

“Don’t I know it,” Carlos retorted with a fond shake of his head and, for a second, everything almost felt normal.

But only for a second.

In the next Carlos registered what his Dad wasn’t saying. He hadn’t said TK was okay, he had said he was “hanging on” and Carlos didn’t like the implications of that. He opened his mouth to demand that his father give him details, but Gabriel slipped his phone back into his pocket with an air of finality.

“You need to worry about yourself right now, Carlitos,” he said gently. “I know you’re worried about TK but there is nothing you can do for him right now.”

A sudden thickness filled Carlos’s throat and he had to swallow before he could respond, “I know that,” he admitted, “I just can’t help…” he trailed off, and both his parents gave him looks that spoke volumes of understanding. His mother reached out a hand to squeeze his knee beneath the blankets.

“Get some sleep mijo,” she told him softly, “we’ll wake you if anything changes, I promise.”

He wanted to argue, but he had been fighting the pull of sleep with sheer stubbornness for the better part of the hour he had been awake so he reluctantly nodded instead. His mom placed a kiss on his forehead as he closed his eyes, the sound of his parent’s hushed voices providing soft background noise as he drifted off.

He slept fitfully, never allowing himself to truly rest in case he missed something, in case something happened with TK. He drifted in and out, his mind fighting his exhausted and battered body but he must have fallen into a deeper sleep than he thought at one point because the next time he opened his eyes his parents were gone and the chair beside his bed was occupied by Owen Strand instead.

“Owen?” he asked tentatively, trying his best to ignore the growing dread in his gut.

His boyfriend’s father looked up from the floor that he had been studying at the sound of his voice, his expression shifting into a tired grin when he saw Carlos looking at him.

“Hey kid,” he said softly, “it’s good to see you awake.”

Carlos nodded, and then frowned. “What are you doing here? Is TK…”

He didn’t know how to end that question. He didn’t know what he hoped or feared at this point. All he knew is that he was hurt, tired, scared and that he needed his boyfriend to be okay. And he didn’t know what he was supposed to make of the fact that the fire captain was currently sitting by his bedside rather than his son’s.

Owen leaned closer to place a bracing hand on his shoulder, “He’s still hanging on. There’s been no change, but the doctors assure me that at this point, that’s a good thing. I’m choosing to believe them. I wanted to check on you though, so your parents and I decided to rotate for a bit. They’re with him right now, but I can call them back here if you’d rather.”

Carlos shook his head. “It’s fine,” he assured the older man. “I’m glad they got to see him. I just wish I could as well,” he admitted. “Everyone keeps telling me he’s alive, but until I see it myself…”

He trailed off again, unwilling to give voice to the thoughts and fears in his head as Owen nodded.

“Believe me when I say I know where you’re coming from,” he replied, “but you’re hurt too. You need to heal before you can do anything of the sort and I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on that. Just think of what TK will say when he wakes up if he ever found out I let you trapse all over the hospital while you were still injured. Don’t make me have to deal with that, Carlos.”

Carlos had been prepared to argue his case until he achieved the result he wanted, but something about the sincerity in Owen’s voice and the certainty with which he said “when he wakes up” quelled him and he found himself nodding. Owen gave him a warm smile that spoke volumes of relief, but there was still an edge of sadness in his expression. The sight of it made the feeling of guilt still within him flare up again.

“I am so sorry, Owen,” he said quietly, pulling his gaze from the other man and looking down at his blankets.

“Sorry for what?” he replied, and even though Carlos couldn’t see him he could almost hear the confusion on his face.

“For all of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to their location. “That TK is hurt.”

“That’s not your fault, Carlos.”

“Of course it is!” he retorted, “I was driving, Owen. Whatever happened, that’s on me and I am so, so sorry. I never meant for anything to happen, I—”

He was aware he was crying in earnest now, the tears falling down his face without his consent. He did his best to wipe them away, but there was no stopping them. They just kept coming and before he knew it he was sobbing, his breath coming in heaving gasps as all of the pain and fear that had been lurking since he first woke up in the hospital finally demanded release.  

He had almost forgotten Owen was still in the room until he felt the bed dip beside him and the warmth of a hug as arms wrapped around his shaking frame, holding him tight as he cried.

“This isn’t your fault,” Owen assured him, voice full of conviction even as it wavered. “It was just a terrible accident. You would never do anything to ever hurt him. I know that, Carlos, and TK knows it too. I don’t blame you, and I’m glad you’re safe.”

Carlos vaguely wondered how the man could say such things when he was facing the possibility of losing his son, but for once he didn’t question it. Instead he allowed the comfort to soothe him and the arms to hold him as he cried himself dry, bleeding out all the pain inside of him.

-----------

“You cannot be serious?” TK demanded, turning in the passenger seat to look at him incredulously.

“I said what I said,” Carlos retorted, biting his lip against the smile that wanted to form at the thought of the indignant face TK was surely currently making.

“You cannot be telling me that I am in love with someone who thinks that Area 51 is real.”

“I believe it exists,” Carlos countered, “I just don’t believe it has anything to do with aliens.”

“So, you don’t think the government is hiding proof of aliens?”

“I didn’t say that either, I just said I don’t think it is in Area 51.”

“So where is it then?”

Carlos shrugged, turning to glance briefly at TK before turning his eyes back to the road, “How should I know, it’s a secret for a reason, TK.”

“So, let me get this straight. You are certain the government is hiding proof of alien life in an undisclosed site more mysterious than Area 51, but you still think Big Foot is a hoax.”

“It’s clearly a series of people in fur suits, TK.”

He grinned as TK spluttered indignantly, muttering something about disrespecting cryptids before he sighed and looked over at Carlos, “I can’t believe I love you.”

Carlos grinned, turning his head to offer his retort when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He saw the flash of panic on TK’s face as he turned abruptly back to the road and heard him shout a warning as he wrenched the steering wheel to the left in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever it was in the road. There was the squeal of tires on wet pavement and the spine chilling noise of crunching metal and screams of pain that he couldn’t identify, before everything faded to black.

-----------

His parents and Owen weren’t the only visitors.

Soon enough Carlos was treated to a small group of solemn firefighters trying their best to plaster on smiles as they crowded into his room, the nurse’s reminder that they could only be there as a group as long as they stayed reasonably quiet following them in. He did his best to return their smiles but his was even more strained and after a moment, he gave up. The pain in their expressions was just as raw as the one he felt and he was forcibly reminded that as much as they were his friends, they were TK’s family first and foremost.

“I’m sorry,” he managed after a few long moments of awkward silence. “I am so, so sorry.”

It was Judd who spoke first, his Texas drawl coming out harsher than usual, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Carlos.”

“I was driving,” he repeated, “and it was my idea to be out at all. That means…”

“That means that an accident happened. Tell me you haven’t seen this a thousand times on the job. Do you tell the person who was driving it was their fault?”

“No,” Carlos admitted, voice low.

“No,” Judd agreed, “because it ain’t. This could have happened to anyone, it just happened to happen to you and that’s not your fault.”

“Besides,” Marjan added, falling into the seat beside his bed and placing a hand on top of his, “you didn’t mean for TK get hurt. You would never want that. This was an accident, Carlos, and we’re sorry it happened to you.”

Carlos swallowed, taking in the expressions of the others. His eyes searched the faces of Mateo and Paul before settling on Nancy, looking for any hint that they didn’t agree with what Marjan said, that they did blame him for bringing this on to TK. But he saw none and when Nancy met his eyes, she shook her head. She didn’t say a word but the message was clear: she didn’t blame him. TK was her partner and closest friend and she didn’t blame him. He released a breath he hadn’t entirely realized he was holding and the smile that he gave them in the moment after was almost real—or as close as he could get without knowing definitively that TK was going to be okay.

For now the knowledge that they didn’t blame him helped, he just wondered if he would ever manage to stop blaming himself.

-----------

“You know, this could be considered kidnapping.”

“I am not kidnapping you, TK,” Carlos replied evenly, “I just said it was a surprise. Besides, I would think you of all people you would know what kidnapping feels like.”

TK paused at the passenger door before climbing into the camaro, raising an eyebrow at him across the top of the car, “Are you joking about my trauma, Reyes? I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I really don’t know if I should be flattered or not right now.”

“Definitely flattered,” TK replied decisively, flashing him a grin as he bent down to climb into his seat, “I think it’s hot.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You think everything I do is hot,” he retorted, grinning at TK’s answering laughter.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, babe.”

Calro shook his head but as slid into the driver’s seat he patted at his left pocket, making sure that the small box was still there as TK shifted gears and prattled on about how Carlos should tell him where they were going.

“It’s a surprise,” he reminded his boyfriend with a grin, earning himself another eye roll as he started the car. And, he added silently, if all went well by the time they got home tonight, he wouldn’t be his boyfriend anymore.

With that thought he grinned as he backed out of their driveway, the box in his pocket and the butterflies in his stomach making him almost giddy as they drove down their street, and towards their future.  

-----------

On the afternoon of the second day Carlos was finally allowed to leave his bed. He wasn’t cleared to leave the hospital, his doctor had made that abundantly clear, and he was absolutely confined to a wheelchair; but he could go see TK. Since that was what he had wanted all along he was all too eager to comply with any and all conditions so when he was helped into a wheelchair by a nurse and wheeled down the hall by Paul, he did so without a word of complaint.

As they traveled to TK’s room, he thought of the box currently stashed with his other belongings back in his room. He hadn’t said a word about it, the subject too raw for him. No one else had said a word either, but he hadn’t missed the way his mother’s face had shifted when she had seen it as his belongings were unpacked or the way she had turned away quickly to conceal the emotion she couldn’t hide. His dad had simply clutched the box for a long moment before he met Carlos’s eyes and slid it back into the bag without a word. Neither of them had mentioned it again and Carlos was incredibly grateful for that, but now that he was on his way to see TK for the first time since that night it was all he could think about.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He had been taking them to the field where they had watched the borealis, the night they had become them. He was going to ask TK a question that he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to, and then they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. That had been the plan, not him facing the possibility of a future without TK in it.

Paul slowed as they came to a doorway, pausing at the threshold. Carlos looked up at him to see his friend studying him with concern.

“Are you sure about this, man?” Paul asked. “This is a lot and you’re still healing yourself. No one would think anything less of you if you didn’t do this just yet.”

“Nothing can be worse than seeing him that night, Paul,” he replied, voice rough as the memories returned. “I was pretty sure I was watching him die then and there, and anything has to be better than that.”

Paul still looked hesitant so he tried again, “I can’t have that image be the last picture of him in my mind, Paul, no matter what. I can’t handle that.”

His friend finally acquiesced and reached around him to push the door open, revealing a small and bright private room. He steered Carlos in as Owen stood from his spot beside the bed and walked over to them, clapping Carlos on the shoulder.

“I’ll give you some time with him,” he told him softly, offering a sad smile before he nodded to Paul and exited the room. Paul pushed him to the side of the bed before patting him on the shoulder as well.

“I’ll be right outside,” he reminded him. “If you need anything…”

“I’ll let you know,” Carlos agreed. “Thanks, Paul.”

Paul nodded and with one last look at the figure in the bed, he headed out of the room, leaving Carlos alone with TK for the first time since that night.

It took him a few moments to even look up and when he did he had to suck in a deep breath. In so many ways TK looked so much better than Carlos’s last memory of him fighting for his life under the care of the paramedics on the roadside. But as much as the sight of him breathing on his own brought him comfort, there was still the fact that this figure in the bed was too still to be TK Strand.

In all the time Carlos had known him he had hardly ever seen him hold still for longer than a few moments. To see him now, pale and bandaged with a slack expression on his still face just screamed so many different kinds of wrong at him. This was not his boyfriend; this wasn’t the man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. That man was expressive and energetic and wore his entire heart on his sleeve. He was so kind and good and had so much passion Carlos still marveled at it even now, after over two years of knowing each other, of loving each other.​​ This man was a stranger.

Carlos reached out and clasped one of the still hands in his own, hoping that maye the familiar touch might reconcile the image of TK in his mind with the still body before him. Carlos still wasn’t sure what he had ever done to find someone who loved so wholly and completely, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. TK Strand was it for Carlos, and he intended to spend the rest of his life with him. He wanted him to be his fiance and his husband, because he was already his everything. The fact that they might lose that chance struck Carlos again and it was all he could do to breathe through the pain of it.

TK was going to wake up, he decided, because no other option was acceptable.

----------

“I don’t know man,” Paul said, his voice light and teasing as they entered the store, “I don’t think you two are quite there yet. You know usually couples who hit this stage are insufferable to be around, spend nearly every waking moment together, are absolutely infuriating to single people...oh wait, I guess that is you two. My mistake, man.”

Carlos rolled his eyes as he greeted the jeweler and gave his name for his order, turning his attention back to his grinning friend as the woman disappeared into the back room. “Laugh all you want, Strickland, I know you’re just jealous and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Paul chuckled, but his expression softened, “I’m not jealous, but I am very happy for you. For both of you.”

“That’s assuming he says yes.”

Now Paul did roll his eyes, “Of course he is going to say yes. He is just as ridiculously in love with you as you are with him. Besides, I know you guys have talked about it. This is what you both want, right?”

Carlos nodded, “Yes, but it’s still terrifying.”

“It’s a big step,” Paul pointed out reasonably, “but you’re ready for it. And I am ready to be your best man.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“C’mon man, you know it’s true.”

Carlos’s response was interrupted as the jeweler stepped back up to the counter, a small, square box in her hand. She set it on the counter and opened it, allowing the gold of the simple band to flash in the light. Carlos could hardly breath as he looked at it, the magnitude of the simple object striking him with full-force. Paul put a hand on his arm and squeezed, “It’s perfect man, he’s going to love it.”

Carlos managed to flash him a shaky smile before he reached out and picked up the box, running his finger over the smooth metal within. This was really happening. This was it, there’s no going back now.

But he knew he didn’t want to, and he had never been more sure of anything in his life.

---------

The next day passed in much the same way. Carlos sat in his wheelchair at TK’s bedside as much as he was allowed, only returning to his own room for required intervals begrudgingly. But he wasn’t about to argue with the arrangement—it was a world better than not being allowed to see him at all.

It was only luck that he was in the room the first time TK’s eyes fluttered open. They were only opened for a second and and they closed nearly as fast but a glance at Owen told Carlos that he had not imagined it and he felt a renewed sense of hope rush through him. After that, he refused to leave TK’s room and nobody seemed too keen to argue that point with him.

His eyes—the gorgeous green eyes that Carlos had secretly been becoming convinced he would never get to see again—opened several more times, but it was hours before they stayed open for any length of time.

But Carlos didn’t mind the waiting; he would wait a lifetime for TK.

It was only the sound of his name that informed him TK was both awake and aware at long last and it was everything Carlos could do to keep it together as he leaned forward, wrapping TK’s hand in his own.

“Hi, love,” he whispered against his cheek as he bent down to press a kiss there.”I am so happy to see those eyes of yours.”

TK squinted at him as he pulled away as if he were trying to deduce something, “Are you okay?” he asked, and it was all Carlos could do to keep from laughing. Of course TK was asking him that when he had just woken up from a coma, he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“I’m fine,” he assured TK, squeezing his hand. “Even better now that I know you are too.”

And TK smiled at him and Carlos could feel the weight and guilt of every single second before he woke up fall away. TK was awake and alive and okay, and nothing else mattered. He could handle anything as long as TK was okay.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with visitors filtering in and out, all there to see them, all there to make sure they were both okay. Carlos’s heart felt full as he watched the ragtag group that had become their family show up one by one: his parents with hugs for them both, a relieved Gwyn fresh off a flight from Singapore. Each and every member of the 126, the Vega twins, Grace with little Ava who had drawn cards for them both.

As he watched Judd settle his daughter on the edge of the bed at TK’s insistence, Carlos thought of a ring in a box back in his room down the hall. Since the accident he had been so worried that he would never have a chance to ever ask that question. But now, safe in the knowledge that he and TK were both okay and would both make it past this, he wasn’t worried. A part of him still wanted to do it now, to not waste another of their precious moments, but as TK smiled at him over Ava’s shoulder as she pressed her little body against his in an impossibly gentle hug for a toddler he conceded that there were all types of precious moments.

When he did ask it wouldn’t be anything spectacular and he was well past the idea of a grand gesture, but they still deserved to have a moment that was solely their own. Maybe after their company left and Carlos had bribed his way into spending the night by TK’s side. Maybe once they were both discharged and were back in their home. Maybe it would be months from now, over their morning coffee.

Whatever or whenever it was, Carlos knew it would be perfect. Because it would be him and it would be TK and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together no matter how he asked, and Carlos couldn’t think of a better future than that.

[vrisrezis]

the matsunos reaction to knowing their s/o have a kid and meeting them?

YES PLS

Also if u want I can do hcs for these specific kids and the matsus bc god . I have ideas

Gender neutral reader

“Wait.. you have a kid?! How?!” Osomatsu asks, bewildered. How hasn’t he known about this? Why hasn’t he met the kid yet? He’s a bit disappointed at first, not that he hates kids he just.. it means there’s another parent in the equation right? So he kinda asks you about that whole thing, are they just dead? Or like were they a dick? Or? Is your kid just adopted?

However, he’s very excited to meet your kid! He wishes you told him about your little girl sooner. He’s not worried he’ll mess up at all, (he probably should be). He doesn’t even ask any questions, he just wants to meet the kid.

You were a bit worried.. and for good reason. Your daughter didn’t exactly .. like people. She was anti social. Besides.. things had been kinda difficult for the both of you upon having to take care of her on her own. She’s been waiting for you to introduce her to Osomatsu, the man you’ve been dating for months now.

Your daughter tended to be a bit judgmental, especially when it came to your relationships. D/n may only be twelve, but she has a knack for being able to sniff out unsuitable future dads/moms/parents. The thing about your daughter was.. she was Osomatsus complete opposite. She’s serious, hardworking, an over achiever type of gal. She knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. Point is, you were a little worried about how she would take you dating a literal neet.

As you walked into your house, your daughter was reading on the floor. As per usual. She looked up, he eyes widening a little to see the male next to you. Red hoodie. She stood up, walking up to osomatsu, and he smiled, taking his hand out for her to shake wordlessly, and she takes it, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Osomatsu!” “So I’ve heard. My name is d/n.” She said, her face more deadpan, in contrast to his smile. He didn’t seem to mind though, like he didn’t care, which made her raise a brow. Your past lovers tended to be intimidated by her seriousness.

Seeing how well behaved your kid was, how serious she was. He didn’t even think she was real, she’s literally the perfect child. Seeing how sweet you were being with her as well. God you were a great parent that raised such a well behaved child and he couldn’t help but sigh out of pure love..

Maybe that’s what won her over, and actually be willing to be nice and have a conversation with him.

“Wait so you’re a neet?” “Yes.” “Are you looking for a job?” “Nope.” She lets out a loud sigh as he smirks. “

They talked for a bit, and honestly? Your daughter couldn’t help but sigh at some of the things he said, only making him laugh more. You are surprised she hasn’t blown up in his face yet.. but.. is she… laughing? At a joke he made? That’s so… unlike her..

You can’t help but smile at the two.

Karamatsu is extremely surprised, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t ask about the other parent, it’s personal and he understands if you don’t wanna talk about it. Very excited about meeting the child as well honestly. Tries to keep that cool guy act and pretend he’s not overly excited but it couldn’t be more obvious, he always brings it up whenever you see eachother as well. “So.. heh.. how are s/n and d/n.. hm??” Trying to act cool about it. You simply deadpan, “do you want to meet them karamatsu?” “YES!” He then coughs suddenly, “ahem, yes..”

You wondered if he was excited because they were identical twins. Yes, you had two kids. A son and a daughter, absolute monsters. They’re teens though, so it’s to be expected. Being age fifteen was not easy! But.. you often found yourself scolding the two of them for something new.

You weren’t too nervous about him meeting them, it would certainly be an… interesting night. He seemed rather nervous though. You gave him a reassuring smile before walking in…

Only to find a mess before you, as you expected. You sigh, “d/n!! s/n!! Get down here and clean your mess!!” You yell in a tone karamatsu has never heard you yell. Such a motherly tone with strictness to it. He heard loud stomping, only to see the two rush down the stairs. They originally would just rush, and get back upstairs but the two of them stop upon seeing a man beside you.

“Who is that?” s/n cocks a brow, and before you could answer, your daughter interrupts, hitting his arm. “Ow!” “It’s the new daddy right?! Right? I’m right! Right..?” She smiled excitedly, and he couldn’t help but blush a bit. Dad..dy.. maybe one day? You couldn’t help but blush yourself, “this is my boyfriend karamatsu. Karamatsu this is s/n and d/n. Okay you two, clean up and make it quick.” You say as they both quickly nod, yelling a “nice to meet you!” Before cleaning up all the chip bags, clothes, and wires on the floor.

Karamatsu was having a trouble time acting cool in front of these teens. They were oozing with confidence, and that is intimidating. No matter HOW young they are. They are definitely your kids. They have your confidence, your talkative and mischievous personality, your teasing, everything. “Wait so what’s your job?” “Do you live by yourself?” “Do you have any siblings?”

“Kids..!” You looked at them with that stern look, and they quickly shut up. “Sorry!” S/n grins, “maybe we’re being a bit much..” he laughs sheepishly, as so does his sister. “We’re just excited!” She whines, and karamatsu only chuckles, saying that it was fine.. “I understand you have a lot of questions about dear old me..” he adjusts his shades, “I am a sextuplet.. I love with my brothers..” “woaaah!!” “Seriously?! You love them that much?”

“What about the job?” D/n pressed, and he sweats. “As for a job.. heh.. I..” he pauses. Oh god here it comes.

“I have no plans..!”

“Jeez you paused just for that?!” Your daughter says in annoyance, as your son laughs. “Hahahah! This guy is awesome!”

“Really? Awesome?” He asks, trying not to sound hopeful.

“Yeah!” They both say at the same time, smiling.

He had to stop himself from letting out a loud sigh of relief.

Choromatsu spits out his drink, gaping at you. “You have a WHAT?!” He just can’t believe it to be honest, but at least he won’t ever have to have a talk with you about having kids with you (a talk he was terrified of having) so he’s actually thankful you have children already. He was a bit nervous about meeting the two little girls, they were age 10 but they were little demons.

As you walked in the house, you yelled, “girls! I’m home!” and he saw two little girls run up to hug you “mommy/daddy!” You hugged them back, “hey girls.. you gonna say hi?” You gesture to the man behind you, and they back up from the both of you and they wave “hello!” “Hi!” The twins say at the same time. For some reason, he felt like he was in the same room as Todomatsu. Fake cuteness and kindness to it.. god you were so right, these two were gonna be absolute monsters weren’t they?

He was a lot more scared now rather than just plain nervous, however your girls were good at conversing with him despite their younger age, asking him what he likes to watch and stuff. Not really the .. adult stuff. Which he was thankful for, it’s not like they need to know he does nothing… right?

Well, that was until the younger twin said something. It’s always the youngest isn’t it?

“Oh… I… uhm… I don’t really have a job” he rubs the back of his neck, “oh! Why?” She asks, “uhm… because I.. don’t want to..?” He says honestly, and she looks to you “can I not work because I don’t feel like it?” she looks innocently, but you know her better than that, shaking your head no. “Awww!” She pouts, but smiles. “Well, that’s okay! You can just work at home or something, like .. uhm..” she thinks for a moment, the elder twin pops in “like a malewife!”

He felt his face grow red, malewife?

“Okay girls go set up the table for dinner!” You butt in, smiling.

“Okay!” They say in unison, running off, and you notice them giggling mischievously. You roll your eyes.

These two were gonna be a lot, he knew it. But instead of feeling scared, he felt happy, relieved even.

He was a part of a new family now.

Ichimatsu is surprised as well, a kid? Well it’s not like he minds it exactly, he secretly likes kids a lot.. besides this means he can technically have one of his own if he plays his cards right with you. Which hes much more determined to do. A young 12 year old boy, a 16 year old girl. He can’t wait to meet the two of them.

The younger one was… much more energetic, mischievous even. However, he will hand it to him for digging the color purple, as it was obvious from his dyed purple hair, black and purple striped skirt, (yes, your young boy was wearing a cute skirt), a stylish young boy full of confidence. Despite his smirk though, something about him had a similar aura to his own. Then there’s your daughter, complete opposite. Pink clothing to contrast her brother. With a permanent grumpy frown on her face, he assumed that was normal for her, which he wasn’t wrong about.

As he conversed with them for a bit, it seemed like he had a lot in common with the little boy. “Hehe~ I love cats! Big sis likes em too.. she likes to act all tough and like she doesn’t tho!” He said in a teasing tone as for once looks up from her phone and stops texting. “Not true!” She blushes a bit, and he laughs.

He can’t help but smile himself, making your son smirk with a bit of pride at making your intimidating boyfriend smile. He’s definitely been trying to show a good impression this whole time. Unlike your daughter who doesn’t care either way, she’s definitely like Ichimatsu in many ways.

Though by the end of the day, when he didn’t try conversing with her as much as your son she started putting in effort.

“I didn’t take you for an anime nerd.” Ichimatsu admits, “maybe you should meet my brother.” He says, referring to Choromatsu in particular. “Oh shit you have a brother?” “Yeah. Your mother/father didn’t tell you? I have like five brothers.” “Holy shit that’s horrible” your sister looks in disgust, as her younger brother just laughs at her dramatics.

Your daughter showed much more of her true personality upon the shock of him being a sextuplet, and he ended up chuckling at her ridiculousness.

He already loved the hell outta your kids.

“Cool! When do I get to meet them?!” Jyushimatsu asks rather excitedly, and it’s hard for you to be too surprised by that kinda reaction. Of course he didn’t care you had kids.. three, to be exact. Triplets, all three girls. Yeah.. all three. Originally, you had two girls and one boy, but things have changed, and that was just fine by you, who was once your eldest child and only son, was now your eldest daughter.

Jyushimatsu was eager to meet all three, they’re all 16 years old. The eldest, was the “chill” one of the three. She often likes to just relax and can be seen as overly patient and calm. The second, often with a bored or deadpan look, she reminded Jyushimatsu of Ichimatsu. And the third, who honestly was a spoiled brat, she was grumpy at times and she always got what she wanted.

He ended up talking to the girls a lot, talking about being a sextuplet, being a neet, and of course baseball. Your eldest listened, “oh that’s cool! I love baseball!” She went to get a picture showing him pictures she’s taken with famous baseball players, as the youngest rolls her eyes. The second eldest was as quiet as ever as your boyfriend and your eldest conversed about their similar interests, the youngest complaining, Jyushimatsu laughing it off.

He had lots in common with the youngest too, and was able to eventually gain her approval. He eventually talked with the second daughter about things, which was also nice. She seemed to like him. Your second eldest tended to be the shyer nervous type despite the cold exterior that she puts on, so she really liked such a friendly dude.

He seemed to really like them. And he was really good with them. You couldn’t help but think how sweet he was being, he’s always sweet but it’s different. He’s being different with them. It’s nice.. it’s good. He would be such a good dad.

You smile at the thought.

Todomatsu is certainly surprised that you have children. He’s curious to learn more about them too. “So when do I get to meet em!” He’ll excitedly ask, “whenever you wanna totty” you smile, “though, I must admit.. they can be a bit much sometimes” you rub the back of your neck and he gives you a deadpan look. “Have you met my brothers?”

Good point.

And that’s why he’s here now, talking to the three of your kids. Three identical twins!

Technically your son is the eldest, he’s a grumpy guy though. Always yelling or cursing at something, you think to yourself that maybe it’ll go away, he’s only 16. The other twin, your daughter, is much more outgoing and hyper, his complete opposite. And finally your youngest child. They were more of the silent, mysterious type, even shy.

The eldest was nonchalant with him and honestly you could tell your boyfriend was a bit nervous with him. You smack your son at the back of his head whenever he gave a backhanded comment. He didn’t like your boyfriend at first, but he kinda gave in. Only reason was when he noticed how he looked at you when you were helping your youngest with something, it was like that stupid I’m in love with my s/o look.

He got along with the second the most, she’s easy to get along with given her friendly personality. Besides, she is always in on the newest internet drama, she was bound to get along with him the most. She adores him. And of course, the youngest. The youngest got along with him quickly, actually thinking he was pretty cool. They liked his style, his being more pastel and pink, a huge contrast to their emo style. They weren’t as kept with drama but they definitely were in on clothing trends which they both conversed about. They warmed up to him and got out of their shell, even calling him totty by the end of the night along with your daughter, your son refusing to do that.

Seeing how each one of your kids interacted with totty, it was obvious they all liked him.

He was gonna fit in great with this family.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when he becomes tiny

This work, 当他变小了, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR ] 

“It’s time to get up.”

In response to the voice, you open your eyes blearily to the familiar morning sunlight, the familiar temperature of the room, the familiar decor of the bedroom, and the familiar...

“Who the hell are you? Victor’s illegitimate son?”

You’re alarmed at the sight of a child at Victor’s designated spot next to you.

The innocent-looking, tiny version of Victor wears a blank expression on his face.

Your brain gradually starts functioning again. “You’re... Victor?”

“Idiot.”

It’s him, it’s definitely him! Apart from him, who else would call you an idiot? Evol fluctuations probably caused his body to shrink.

Curious, you give him a pat on the head, then pinch his chubby cheeks, finding this experience incredibly novel. “Victor, you actually look... strangely cute like this.”

He swats your hand away, shifting his tiny body off the bed.

“Where are you going?” No longer feeling the soft touch, you feel slightly disappointed. You stare at his fuzzy hair, and your fingers itch to ruffle it.

“Making breakfast for a certain dummy.” 

Without turning his head, Victor leaves the bedroom, his short legs striding forward clumsily, like a kitten learning how to walk. 

Your maternal instincts are set aflame.

Something occurs to you, and you quickly hop out of bed and run into the kitchen. How’s he going to cook with his current height?

As expected, Little Victor, with his short limbs, is standing in front of the counter wondering how he can reach the knife and chopping board.

“Little Vic, since it’s inconvenient for you, why not go outside and play. Let this big sister take care of the meals today~ I promise to bring you up well!” You hoist him up by the armpits and bring him out of the kitchen, using this opportunity to squish his tiny face.

Considering how long you’ve known him, you can instantly tell from his expression what he’s about to say next. Before he has time to conjure a venomous remark, you hide in the kitchen and shut the door.

The door slams in front of him, and he shakes his head laughably. “Pretty bold.”

After some twists and turns, you finally churn out an edible “breakfast”. When you lay it on the table, Victor is looking through company documents while wearing glasses that are evidently too large for him.

He shifts the laptop to the side. Furrowing his brows, he uses a knife to slice open a slightly blackened poached egg. “Your skills could see an improvement.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yes yes yes, I can’t possibly compare myself to the skills of the great chef Victor. So I’ll have to trouble Little Vic to bear with it.”

“I’ve taken leave today. After breakfast, there’s an e-meeting I have to attend. When the time comes, attend to it for me.” Finding the food a little salty, Victor holds up the coffee in his hand. Before he even takes a sip, you exchange it with a cup of milk.

“Little children can’t drink adult coffee. You can only grow tall if you drink milk~” You grin while explaining.

His sharp eyebrows furrow slightly. “I’m 28 this year.”

Sizing him up, you click your tongue and sigh. “No matter how fast you grow, this body looks like a six-year-old's.”

“...” Not knowing how to rebut, Victor’s face blackens. When his immature-looking face accompanies this serious expression, he resembles a child who’s throwing a fuss - it’s cute.

After breakfast, you enter the e-meeting. The other high-ranking members of the company notice that CEO Victor isn’t around, and is instead substituted by you. Someone curiously asks, “Did CEO Victor go somewhere?”

Donning an official business-like expression on your face, you respond. “CEO Victor is feeling unwell today. I will be representing him in the meeting, and will convey the contents of the meeting with him in its entirety.”

Following a few concerned pleasantries, the meeting delves into the main topic. You take down notes seriously, posing questions according to the slips of paper Victor hands you. The meeting goes by smoothly.

“Your performance during the meeting wasn’t bad.” Victor flips through your meeting notes, satisfied.

Even though you didn’t understand the purpose of you recording notes when he was right there listening alongside you, you’re thoroughly welcoming of his compliment. Puffing up your chest with pride, you lift your head and say, “Of course. I’m the boss of a production company. Meetings are naturally not a cinch.”

“You’re off in the clouds just after a compliment?” The disjunct between his adorable features and the expression that doesn’t suit his age causes you to burst into laughter. “Victor, stop speaking like that, it’s too unsuitable.”

Victor immediately reverts back to his blank expression, which tickles you even more.

Both of you have taken leave and are staying at home doing nothing, apart from the moments you can’t control your fingers and they knead his cheeks or tousle his hair. Each and every time, he would either swat away or evade your claws. Apart from that, everything has been very peaceful, until...

“Since you’re so small that you’d probably drown if you fall into the bathtub, should I help you bathe?” You suggest earnestly.

Knowing that he can’t convince you otherwise, Victor reluctantly agrees to your request to wash him up.

Standing stark naked in the bathtub, the clear water covers nothing.

You glance at it casually. “When Little Vic becomes smaller, everything else becomes smaller too...”

“...dummy, don’t look.” 

The child’s cheeks are pinkish and tender, and it seems to redden even more after hearing your words.

“Stand here and don’t move. I’ll get the shampoo.” You pat his wet hair and turn around, heading to the shelf to retrieve the bottle of shampoo he uses frequently. 

However, the bathroom floor is too slippery. Accidentally stepping on a puddle of water, your body lunges forwards.

“Be careful!” 

The pain you anticipated doesn’t arrive. Instead, you’re greeted by a warm touch. You flick open an eye.

Victor frowns in pain, his hair dripping with water, sticking to his forehead. There is obvious worry in his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

Your brain is stunned by the depth in his eyes, and you can only nod in a daze. 

Sensing this, Victor’s large hand, which was originally on your waist, travels up your spine slowly. His searing eyes causes your breathing to hitch and your mouth to feel dry.

Satisfied by the effect he has on you, the corners of Victor’s lips twitch slightly.

“A dummy said something she shouldn’t have. Now, are you ready to accept your punishment?”

[ GAVIN ]

“Yes, so sorry to trouble you, Captain Eli. And no, it’s not that serious, you don’t have to specially visit. Thank you for the hard work.” You sit on the sofa while making a call to Eli, asking him to help Gavin apply for leave.

Gavin sits beside you quietly, looking at his tiny hands in a trace-like state. He clenches them, but doesn’t feel the strength he’s familiar with.

“All right, let’s just treat today as a rest day. How long will this last?” Your maternal instincts are set alight when facing this tiny Gavin. Carrying him onto your lap, you can’t help but knead his cheeks.

Gavin doesn’t struggle, letting you do whatever you want. “It won’t be long, but it does feel a little strange...”

“I think it’s very cute. Like this, I really can’t bear to let you go~” You place your right hand on the top of his head, patting his soft hair. He probably said it wouldn’t last long so you wouldn’t worry.

“Ahem... it’s fine as long as you like it.” That’s right - Gavin has always been pampering you, and this remains the same even if he turns tiny.

“Gavin, shall we have KFC for lunch? It’s been such a long time since we’ve eaten it.” You rub your hands together, yearning for the KFC New Orleans chicken wings, chicken popcorn and...

Gavin smiles when he sees how eager you are. “I heard the kid’s meal comes with a Conan toy.”

You’re brought out of your thoughts, and there are almost stars in your eyes. “You really know me too well! Thank you, Little Gavin~” 

Gavin subconsciously reaches out to tousle your hair, but since his short arm can’t reach the top of your head, he lowers his arm and holds your hand instead.

Leading him out of the house, you suddenly feel as though you’re holding onto your son. Your eyes crinkle as you tug on his hand. “Today, Little Gav has to follow his mother closely.”

“Cough cough cough cough...” As though you gave him a shock, Gavin chokes violently. With a slight redness in his cheeks, he says your name softly. You laugh, carrying him to the backseat of the car and fastening his seat belt before settling yourself into the driver’s seat.

“Drive more-”

“Drive more slowly - I’ve heard these three words so many times already.” You cut him off before he can finish. Somehow, causing Little Gavin to blush is even more interesting than usual. 

Gavin furrows his brows and changes his words.

“Then, be careful.”

Considering how there’s a ‘child’ in the car, you drive as smoothly as possible, reaching the nearest KFC in the shopping mall only after half an hour. 

“A kid’s meal, a Beijing chicken roll, and a 10-piece chicken bucket. Little Gav, do you want popcorn chicken?” You turn your head to Little Gavin, who is behind you.

He retrieves a mobile phone from the Mickey Mouse backpack you forced him to carry, and hands it to you. “If you want it, just order it.”

"I’ll have the big portion then.” You unlock the phone with your fingerprint, showing the payment code to the clerk. After scanning the code, the clerk takes out a Conan toy and gives it to Gavin.

“Little boy, this is a toy which comes with the kid’s meal.”

Gavin takes the toy from her hand and stores it into the bag. 

There aren’t many people, and most of the patrons are parents with their children. Originally, the two of you planned to pretend to be a mother-son duo and leave quietly after eating. However, a girl around the same height as Little Gavin walks over.

“Little brother, would you like to play in the children’s playground?” The girl’s face is red, her cheeks plump, and the pigtails on her head sway with her movements adorably.

“No he can’t.” You refuse the little girl’s request even before Gavin speaks. 

The girl turns her pleading gaze towards Gavin, who’s helping you get ketchup. He frowns. “I’m not going.”

Perhaps never experiencing such treatment before, the little girl’s eyes immediately turn misty, and it looks as though tears are about to spill from them. Feeling as though you’ve bullied her, you soften your voice and comfort her.

“Little girl, this brother isn’t feeling well today, so he can’t play with you, sorry about that.” 

The child’s mother quickly comes over to apologise, takes the girl away, and compliments your “son” for being both cute and handsome.

After seeing that they’ve walked a distance away, you rub your chin thoughtfully and lower your voice, teasingly saying, “Even as a kid, Senior attracts the eyes of the opposite sex.”

Gavin takes out the Conan toy and hands it to you. “I didn’t expect my girl to feel jealous over a child.”

You dip a fry into ketchup and feed it to him. “I’m not the sour one - it’s the ketchup!”

[Note] In Chinese, jealousy is 吃醋 (”chi cu” - loosely translated to “eating vinegar”. So when MC says she’s “not the sour one”, it’s a pun!

After lunch, the both of you decide to head home to rest since the weather is too hot to remain outside. 

Travelling at noon on a hot summer day causes a sheen of sweat to appear on both of your bodies. 

After returning home, you head to separate bathrooms to have a shower. When Little Gavin steps out, wrapped in a bath towel that is usually only enough to cover his lower body, you can’t help but laugh.

“Gavin, are you wearing a tube top?”

He frowns, lifting the bath towel which is threatening to fall. “The only thing I have is that set of clothes which turned small along with me. I can’t wear anything else.”

You poke his tummy and hug him close to your chest. “Good boy, it’s time to go to sleep~”

The air-conditioning makes the room temperature just right, and you fall asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. 

When you awake, the little person in your arms is gone. Instead, you’re resting on a firm arm. A naked man props his head on his palm next to you, smiling and gazing at you tenderly as if he wants to engrave your appearance, the intoxicating sunset, and the beautiful scene of summer on his heart forever. 

You can’t help but stare at his tender and clear face. In the cramped space, the sound of your breathing is amplified.

“Slept too much?” he breaks the silence.

Something occurs to you and you ask in surprise, “Did you know when you’d change back?”

“Mm.” Gavin lowers the arm supporting his upper body and lays down again, reaching out to hug you into his arms. His chin rests on top of your head, and the familiar touch sends tingles down your spine. 

The arms around your waist tighten, and his voice is low and hoarse. 

“Don’t move. I've been holding back for a long time.”

[ LUCIEN ]

You’re pretty sure you’re either still asleep, or having a hallucination. After shaking your head a few more times, the scene in front of you remains unchanged. 

You hold one side of the table to prevent yourself from falling to the ground from dizziness. In front of you is Lucien, his eyes crinkled with a smile... to be more precise, he’s a smaller version of Lucien.

"Lucien, what happened to you?!” You have no idea how to react to the sight before you. “Were you attacked by Voldemort's black magic?" 

Lucien waves your hands away in resignation, and says comfortingly. “It’s likely Evol fluctuations. It shouldn’t last long.”

Curious, you tug at his hair. “Is this for real? Mm, much cuter than usual.”

He takes your hand from the top of his head and holds it tightly. “Didn’t we agree to visit the bookstore to pick out books together today? Aren’t you going to prepare?”

"Are you sure you can still go to the bookstore like this?" You ask in uncertainty, looking at his small frame.

“If it’s something I agreed with you, I’ll definitely fulfil it.” He looks at you with a smile, his eyes gentle and firm, channelling ripples in your heart. Seeing you staring at him in a daze, he chuckles. "Go change your clothes, little fool.

You nod blankly, turning around to head into the room.

-

There are twice as many patrons in the bookstore over the weekend as compared to normal. Book lovers are either shuttling through the bookshelves or reading quietly with a cup of coffee in front of them. 

In contrast to the quietness in this area, the children's book section is much livelier. The walls are decorated with childlike decorative paintings, and the bookshelves are also constructed into various shapes - small houses, elephants, tall trees...

You hold Lucien’s hand as you walk past the children's book section. Feeling mischievous, you look at Lucien, whose height reaches your waist. "Little Lucien, do you want to pick a picture book?"

Lucien lowers his head and doesn’t speak, simply quickening his pace as he holds you. After walking to the western literature section, Lucien stops. “These are the books people my age read.”

The shop helper was just about to ask if he needed directions to the children's book section pauses. 

You laugh softly, taking a collection of poems from the shelf, and read it softly. 

“I love you, for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart, and passing over all the foolish, weak things that you can’t help dimly seeing there, and for drawing out, into the light...”

“All the beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite far enough to find.”

Someone continues the second half of the sentence. The moment you lift your head, Lucien’s eyes turn icy. 

"It’s ‘Love’ from Roy Croft, right?” The uninvited man leans against the bookshelf in front of you and makes an inviting gesture. "Beautiful lady, may I invite you to have a cup of coffee with me?"”

Before you have time to speak, you hear a childish babble from Lucien. "Mom, dad would be anxious if we don’t get home soon.” 

Lucien smiles, his eyes crinkling as he tugs at the hem of your clothes. Nothing seems out of the ordinary - that is, if you ignore how he almost broke the hardcover copy of the “Theory of Psychoanalysis” in his hand.

Knowing that it’s no good to stay any longer, you take the few books Lucien picked, and prepare to leave. “Sorry, I should be going off with my... son.”

With a look of regret, the man shifts so you can access the aisle. “Next time, then.”

Carrying Lucien, you want to sprint away from this strange man. At the same time, you find the special smile on Lucien’s face very familiar. Every time he catches you doing something ‘bad’, he wears such an expression when he’s about to punish you.

After making your purchase at the checkout counter, you decide to use this rare opportunity to take Lucien to the trampoline. You’ve always wanted to experience it, but have always been too embarrassed to go. This way, you can play on the trampoline under the guise of bringing a child along with you.

Just as you’re able to compliment yourself for your wit, Lucien suddenly grips his chest and gasps, as though he can’t bear the pain.

"Lucien? What's wrong?" You grip his small body anxiously. 

Lucien raises his head with difficulty, his forehead covered with beads of sweat. “Let’s return quickly. I think I’m changing back.”

When you hear that, you dare not delay further. You step on the accelerator, and drive home before Lucien changes back.

As soon as he sits on the sofa, the little Lucien in front of you morphs back to his usual self, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. 

You thought this incident would pass, but you had forgotten that Lucien, a sly fox, doesn’t forget debts owed to him...

“My wife didn’t refuse that man in the bookstore today.”

"You didn’t even give me the chance to refuse,” you gripe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

...

Your whole body is sore, and you don't want to get up at all. Fortunately, it’s the weekend and you can spend the whole day in bed.

There is still lingering warmth in the vacant space beside you. In your line of sight, you see a thick book on the bedside table, and you can barely support yourself as you pick it up. 

Andersen's Fairy Tales.

"I got it from the children's section yesterday. Since I was a child for a while, I bought a book meant for a child." Lucien tousles your hair affectionately, and reaches out to place the storybook to the side. 

"After all, there’s a child at home who needs to listen to stories before bed."

[ KIRO ]

“Where’s Kiro? Where’s my fat... I mean, big Kiro?” You look around exaggeratedly, gesturing with your hands around the height of 176cm, as if you were really looking for him.

“...Miss Chips, stop pretending that you don’t see me.” Kiro looks at your antics in resignation. 

That’s right - the waist-high blond kid in front of you is your Mr Chips.

“I’m sorry, it's just really hard to believe that you’ve suddenly turned small.” Though you’re apologising, your hands cling to his cheeks. Sure enough, they feel like how you imagined. Soft and smooth, which make people reluctant to let go.

"Miss Chips, let go!" Kiro, who initially let you do whatever you want to him,, begins struggling when he realises you have no intention of sparing him.

You let go reluctantly, peeling your hands off his face. 

"Miss Chips, I asked for time off from Savin after telling him I wasn’t feeling well. Shall we go out to play?” 

As expected of Kiro. Even if his body size has turned abnormally small, he can still be optimistic about it, and still be in the mood to play.

“’Not feeling well’? It’s no good to lie to Savin, right?” You look at him, slightly troubled. 

“Savin doesn’t know that I have Evol. Ah, just tell me if you’re going or not.” Kiro opens his eyes wide, as though afraid he would receive words of rejection from you.

You prop your chin and think. "The amusement park then?"  

"Of course! We’ve planned to go for a long time!” Kiro jumps in place with excitement in his tiny body, looking adorable. "I haven't played the running escape game in the amusement park for a long while~”

You size him up, shaking your head regretfully. "Kiro, with your height... are you still able to run fast?" 

"...” Little Kiro feels slightly offended.

Although there may be many restrictions, you still drive to the amusement park with enthusiasm.

-

“All the best Kiro! Just a little bit more.” You watch him stand on his tiptoes laboriously, trying to reach the height permitting him to ride the rollercoaster.

"I made it!" Pleasantly surprised, he sees that his... hair reaches the red line. The staff ruthlessly presses his hair down. "Sorry kid, your height doesn’t pass, so you can't ride this.”

“..." Little Kiro wants to shut himself down. 

"It's okay Kiro, let's go play something else.” You pat him on the head comfortingly, ready to take him to other attractions. Kiro hangs his hand low, utterly aggrieved. "Miss Chips, I suddenly like amusement park rides won’t make me happy.”

You can’t bear to see your Little Sun being unhappy, so you lift him up off the ground. "If you aren’t happy, let's find a restaurant for dessert first, then play later?" 

When he hears that his favourite Miss Chips is bringing him to eat his favourite desserts, the Little Sun’s eyes light up. “Okay, okay~”

Smiling, it occurs to you that this personality and body are actually not that incompatible.

You order a teddy-bear shaped European bun and two dragon fruit juices stored in magic wands, taking a brief rest.

"This seems to be the first time I’m eating with Miss Chips in public.” Kiro dangles his feet off the bench triumphantly, taking out his mobile phone. "I want to take pictures of all our ‘firsts’”.

"Kiro, if Savin sees that, he’d chop your body into pieces.” You remind him softly. 

Sure enough, the fearless and brave Little Kiro stiffens, then quickly puts the phone back into the Donald Duck bag behind him, pretending he never made such a suggestion. "Forget it..." 

“Excuse me, do you have plans to let your brother become a child star?” Your conversation is interrupted by a man in sunglasses. He stands stands beside your table and looks at you expectantly. 

Before you can speak, Kiro answers. "I don’t want to. I hate all that stuff about having to maintain my figure.”

In response to his vehement refusal, the man in sunglasses continues. "No, no, being a child star is very relaxing, and you can even become very famous. Kid, do you want to give it a try?”

"No.” He says this clearly, giving you the impression that he’s been traumatised by Savin’s ‘torture’ over the years.

Not wanting to further entangle yourself with this man, you step in. “Sorry, we don’t have such a plan. We’re heading to another attraction, so please let us pass.” 

While you say this, you pick up the magic wand drinks on the table and lead Kiro out of the dessert shop.

“I didn’t think you’d still attract people’s attention even as a child.” You look at him with mirth.

Kiro scratches his head in irritation. "Absolute Charm is so annoying during these situations!"

You burst out laughing, helping him tidy his messy hair. Holding his hand, you complete all the other rides in the park. 

"Kiro, this is the last thing you can play.” You gulp, gazing at the dark, silent building in front of you. Unlike haunted houses in other places where there are monsters with scary teeth and claws decorating the walls outside this haunted house takes place in a small forest, keeping it out of the noise. The door opens quietly, as though making a silent invitation. 

Kiro squeezes your hand. "Let's go, Miss Chips. A superhero cannot back down!”

Upon entering the house, you discover that there is a line of people, and there are many, like you, have brought children with them to experience the attraction. The staff checks and accepts the express tickets in your hand, and allows around ten of you walk in together.  

The lifelike props and the crying of children fill your ears, and the shrill screams of women make the atmosphere even more terrifying. Trembling slightly, you grab Kiro’s hand, and he grips you. "Don't be afraid, I’ll protect you!”

Although he’s obviously afraid himself, he comforts and protects you from start to finish. 

He’s definitely your superhero.  

After finally getting out of the haunted house, all the children who went in with you, apart from Kiro, are bawling. Little Kiro, with his face pale, is still holding onto your hand.

"Congratulations to the bravest child. As a reward, here are coupons to the night floating parade!" The staff smiles and hands him two paper coupons. 

He receives them in a daze, and doesn’t respond until he walks out of the building and asks, “Miss Chips, does this count as cheating?”

You wink slyly. “If it’s such an adorable kid, cheating is forgivable~”

Kiro agrees with a nod. “Yes, cuteness is a ticket to doing whatever one wants~" He looks at the cartoon electronic watch on his wrist, and suddenly pulls you into a run. "Hurry up Miss Chips, we won't make it to the floating parade in time!”

[ SHAW ] 

You’ve always been calling Shaw “little brat”, but you didn’t expect your words to turn into reality. 

“I’m Shaw, the only graduate student from the Department of Archaeology at Loveland University. When I was playing games instead of sleeping last night, I didn't know that my hair had started falling out. At the time, I picked up the fallen hair but ignored the other harms of staying up late. After that, I was forced to go to bed. When I woke up, my body had shrunk! Although my body has become smaller, I’m as mischievous as always...”

You stand on the bed, raising your right hand exaggeratedly and forming the classic pose of the famous detective Conan.

"...” Shaw, who’s smaller than usual, stands at the side of the bed, looking as though he’s watching a fool.

"You should visit a brain doctor.” He picks up the pillow that fell to the floor accidentally because of your big movements. 

You laugh and get off the bed. "This is the first time I’m seeing a Little Shaw - when you look this small, you’re much cuter than usual.” You grab his cheeks with both hands and knead them to your heart’s delight.

"Don't do that!" He waves your hand away, stepping backwards and walking out the door. Seeming to remember something, he turns around. "I took leave today. You better be at home today too so you can take care of me. It’d save me from inconveniences.”

You purse your lips, mumbling softly, "What do you mean ‘took leave’? All you did was tell the teacher you wouldn’t be in class. You definitely didn't go through the formal leave procedures.” 

Although you’re complaining, you still call Anna to ask for a day off. 

By the time you’ve changed your clothes and freshened up, you find Shaw having breakfast in the living room and watching television. 

You walk over, picking up a dumpling and stuffing it into your mouth. "You’re unexpectedly thoughtful, knowing how to order takeaway for us.”

Shaw scoots over, making space for you. He lifts his head and says disdainfully, "If I didn't order takeaway, I’d become the first kid in Loveland City to starve to death because he didn't eat breakfast." He quickly grabs the last fried dough stick on the table. "Hey, don't touch my fried dough stick!" 

Knowing there’s no chance of grabbing it, you retract your hand and pick up a tea egg instead. “Stingy.”

"I'm a growing boy. Don’t you feel ashamed snatching precious nutrition from me?" He takes a bite of the fritter in his hand and looks at you in disdain.  

"You’re twenty, Uncle Shaw." You retort.

"I look six, okay!”

You click your tongue, pick up the remote control, and switch to a channel playing "Peppa Pig" before placing it back on the table.

"Children should look like children, and watch cartoons that are good for the brain." You turn his head so he faces the television screen.

On it, a pink piglet hops around in the mud pit, splashing muddy water on her brother George.

Shaw looks at you, his face dark. “Do you think I’m you? Isn't this something which suits your intellect?" 

You don the standard smile of a flight attendant, answering him in the sweetest voice you can muster. "Didn't you say you’re six years old? Little brat?"

Shaw looks at you sympathetically. "Unexpectedly, Auntie MC is old enough to have a bad memory, and forgot that my body possesses a twenty-year-old soul." 

Is it illegal to whack a child? If it weren’t against the law, I’d whack him to death!

Stuffed with food and drink, you’re half-lying on the sofa, leaving only a small space for Shaw. You poke his back. “Little Shaw, clean the table.”

He turns around blankly. "I’m a kid. You do the cleaning." 

Fine, even though he’s a child now, he knows how to switch between being an adult and a child when it suits his interests. You decide to teach him a lesson.

You smile and suggest, "I'll take you out to play later.”

Listening to his, Shaw lifts his eyes lazily. “Oh? Is your conscience pricking at you?”

“Children have to write reflections after going out to play. No less than 800 words.” You hold your palm out to him. "Also, you have to give me your money, and let the adult decide your share of the pocket money.

“I knew you weren’t so kind.” Shaw turns away from you. "I want fried chicken cola for lunch. Remember to order properly.”

You roll your eyes, whipping out your phone to order takeaway. You swear that you’re buying it for yourself, not following what he says just because he looks cute.

There’s plenty of fried chicken to go around in the afternoon, so there’s no repeat of the food-snatching that happened in the morning. 

After you’re full from cola and fried chicken, you clear the table and urge him to take a nap. "Children need their afternoon naps, or they won’t grow tall." 

Shaw refuses. "I'm 1.82 meters tall!”

You stare at Shaw, who isn’t even as tall as the television. Even if you don’t speak, what you want to express is self-evident.

He comprehends the meaning in your stare and scratches his head in irritation. You seize this opportunity, whisking him up into your arms and walking towards the bedroom. 

"I don't want to sleep!" He struggles violently, causing you to lose balance and fall forwards.

"Ah!”

“Damn!”

...

You find yourself straddling the enlarged version of Shaw, staring at him with wide eyes.

With a mischievous smile, he strokes your waist. “Since you can’t wait, I have no choice but to comply with your wishes.” 

-

More translated and original works: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[peppermintquartz]

I am going to put up occasional extracts of my current WIP, purely because I like to post my writing as I go, but writing an entire novel without feedback per chapter is driving me nuts.

Anyhow, here is an extract of The Kaedin Forge. There will be spoilers to my first novel, The Kaedin Secret (available HERE) in the extract.

If you wanna give me feedback or reblog please go ahead, I am putting this here for sharing.

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*

*

They were already waiting at the broomwood table their ancestor Delos Alwyth commissioned many generations ago. The iridescent blue sea serpent made of inlaid mother-of-pearl curved sinuously down the middle, its forked tongue pointing directly at Liria’s seat.

“I see you’ve made an effort,” Lannel remarked dryly when he saw her.

Liria certainly made the effort to look the part. The Alwyth serpent brooch was pinned to the throat of her white dress. Her sleeves of silver lace enhanced the gleaming darkness of her skin, and her thick curly hair was caught in a silver net, studded with pearls. Her beloved gir-bone daggers were at her waist, the ornate sheaths glittering when she moved.

Smiling at her uncles and cousins as she took her chair, she nodded to the steward, who motioned for the servants to bring out the food. Each guest soon had a plate of light snacks and pastries before them. No wine or brandy was supplied, however; there was only caffi, and the servants kept the cups full.

"We have many matters to talk about," Liria said once she saw that everyone else had started to eat and drink. "The first matter of business is that my brother has come home, safe and sound. I'm very thankful that he is here with us."

It was obvious that no one believed her.

Evvas stood. He looked handsome and mature in a rich green tunic with gold trim, and he bowed graciously at Liria. "My sister and I have come to an agreement. I no longer want the title; I am content to remain Lord Evvas." With a glance at the duchess, he added, "At this convene of my blood kin, I formally renounce all claim. Instead, I will take care of my parents."

Liria rose to her feet and kissed him on both cheeks. "Thank you, Evvas." She clasped his hands and smiled, secretly pressing a white pill into his right palm. "Mother and Father will be happy with your company on the island, brother dear."

"May Halimgor flourish in your care, sister dear," said Evvas, his own smile not reaching his eyes.

Liria waited until Evvas sat down before she turned to face her blood kin. Each pair of eyes held a judgment. Keeping her tone even and calm, she said, "Matter number two. As you know by now, I am confirmed as Duchess of Halimgor. Father and Mother will retire to our private island, and Evvas will lead a staff to care for them."

Other than Nufal's genuine gladness and pride, the rest of her male kin did not want to meet her eyes, their usual arrogance muted with resentment. Even now, she could see Lannel's disdain in the curl of his mustache, the dismissal in Liren's subtle sneer. Sanu was drinking noisily from his cup, a rude gesture at the best of times. These other men claimed to know her and her temperament because they had seen her as a child; they had watched her play with flowers and dolls and thought her soft and kind. Only Nufal had listened to her stories when she was playing. Her father, before his stroke, had wanted her to know how to manage a land and its people, expecting to marry her off to one of Ingros' sons. He had not counted on his daughter's ambitions; after his stroke, what he intended for Liria no longer mattered. She had schemed, bribed, hurt, and killed to attain her goal.

She earned her place.

Rather odd that the uncles and cousins would be upset with her for doing what her father had done to become the duke in the first place.

Liria kept her voice light. "Those of you who previously thought that I was unsuited to the role, I forgive you. However, I do expect full support from this moment on. For thirty-two years my father captained the ship of Halimgor as head of the house. I am the captain now. If there is mutiny in the ranks, then this ship will sink." Her tone hardened. "The Alwyths have not survived three different dynasties for us to fail with me at the helm."

Sanu muttered something to his father Nuvon, and judging by the sneers, it was something derogatory. Liria briefly considered taking them to task, but moved on.

"The third matter is the issue of the fugitive, Pollastri. He was the kaedin who murdered King Eram," she said.

Nuvon rolled his eyes as he chewed on a komma roll. "I never liked the kaedine. What gives them the right to be seen as equals to us, just because of some stupid resonance nonsense?" He sniffed censoriously before burping. "And pledging allegiance to the king alone? I bet the king just wants to watch us squirm. Why shouldn't these kaedine do our bidding? Creation knows we could do with some aid. Like with the blight, creeping into my fruit orchards."

You'd like to be the one giving orders to them, wouldn't you? Liria did not acknowledge her uncle's comment. "The rest of the Pollastri’s conspirators, those that called themselves Verashki, were apprehended and executed. Unfortunately, Pollastri has more accomplices than we thought. One of them exploded himself—"

"Exploded himself?" Lannel exclaimed, his wispy beard fluttering.

Sanu shook his head. "I heard he burned off the head of the Wardenchief and stole Pollastri away."

"You were not there at the execution grounds, Sanu. I was. And yes, Uncle Lors, he did explode himself. You see, the Verashki can shape fire like the kaedine do with earth, metal, wood, and water." Liria straightened her shoulders. "Which brings me to why I have asked for you to gather today."

Liren snorted, his bushy moustache twitching. "What, not just to brag about how you're in control of all of us?"

"The new king wishes to test all the men of Aleis to see if they have similar abilities as the Verashki. He will take those who do to Izdahl and seal them."

Sanu slapped the table and grinned. "Good! That would show them!"

Next to him, Nufal rolled his eyes and wrote a few words on his writing slate, before he held it up for the rest of the table to read: ‘Including us, fishbrain’. While Sanu sputtered at the insult, Nufal signed a discreet query to Liria — will you need the rangers? — and she signed back that she could use their help.

"Is it true? I'd have thought the king would limit his search to the commonborn. It's entirely egregious to think we could be harboring such treachery," said Lors. His bulbous nose quivered with indignation. "We Alwyths have been loyal to the throne, no matter who sits on it."

"Having the ability does not mean you are a traitor, uncle, it just means you may be able to shape fire with resonance, the way the kaedine have been taught to do with other elements. You may not even know that you have resonance until you are tested. But Kirzan will have you arrested for that ability, like a common criminal. Creation knows what else he'd do. He might not kill you, but he might decide that allowing you to procreate and pass on the trait is too risky. Who's to say?"

All the men in the room shifted uneasily, glancing down at their laps, before clearing their throats and sitting straighter in their chairs.

"But we are Alwyths!" Sanu shouted indignantly and pounded the table with his good hand. "That is a preposterous idea, getting rid of us."

"Being an Alwyth means nothing to Kirzan," Evvas remarked, amused and distant. "I've met him. He cares nothing for noble blood. If he weren’t the king, he would have tried to be rid of one."

"I agree with Evvas. I’ve had the chance to get to know Kirzan quite… intimately." Liria shook her head in rueful amusement when her uncles and cousins smirked knowingly. "Yes, yes. I overestimated my charms. Honestly, his intelligence and cunning would have made him an exemplary member of our house. Since I couldn’t win him over, I returned as fast as I could, because we need to defend ourselves."

Nufal shook his head and signed a crown at Liria, punctuated with a questioning wag of his little finger. Liria replied, ‘yes, and the kaedine too.’

"For Creation's sake, I know he's mute, but you can speak aloud, can't you?" Sanu said, waggling his fingers in mockery.

"Or you can learn signing, like the rest of us," Liren said dryly, and turned to Liria. "It is foolish to defy the king. What can we do against the kaedine? They can crack the earth, bend iron gates, and bring up a forest through stone. And there are six rivers for the Aega-class kaedine to draw upon should they attack us. We cannot defend against their power."

"They require stamina and focus to work," said Liria. "We can wear them down and batter them unceasingly with sneak attacks. We have the advantage of the terrain; we know our lands better than they do. The edge of that particular sword can be blunted. Then we can send out our own to fight them. Kaedine can die by the sword, the spear, the arrow and by poison."

Lors shook his head, his plump cheeks twitching. "No. No, it is far too risky. I will not allow it."

"I am not asking for permission." She took the brooch from her dress and held it up. The sapphires of the Alwyth serpent glittered balefully. "My decision is made. We will evacuate most of Halimgor, and shelter those fleeing from the king. But we will make our strongest stand here in Port Halim. What I need from you are suggestions on how we can do so."

"That's quite enough from you, Liria," Nuvon said, exuding disapproval. "Remember that we have governed for many years, some of us since before you were even born. You forget your place."

"You forget myplace," Liria snapped back. "I am Duchess Liria of the house of Alwyth, ruler of Halimgor! You are merely a governor of a piece of my lands!"

"How dare you, you insolent wretch!"

"How dare you, you squandering whore?" she retorted. “I haven’t even got to your gambling debts and your many bastard children running about in Upper Goret!”

As Nuvon sat speechless with rage, Lors scoffed, "You're nothing but clever words and toothless bullying."

Liria allowed herself a tiny smile. "Tell me, Uncle Lors, how are Aunt Denia and the twins? Asha and Pela, I believe? Uncle Lannel, your lovely third wife Kalrissa — does she get seasick?"

One by one, the men grew tense and pale.

"I won’t prevaricate. I’m blackmailing all of you," Liria stated. " Your wives and children are under Captain Iskawa's care as we speak, though how generous she is with rations I do not know. Now, you choose. Help me defend Port Halim, or allow Kirzan to do as he will."

"I'd rather the king take over," Nuvon announced furiously. "He'd be less impertinent than you. I can always pay off Iskawa and her bilge beetles."

Evvas cleared his throat. "The food, sister."

"Oh yes, I forgot." Liria brightened. "I had extracts from a few water-blooms mixed into your food and drinks. Don't worry, I also used crushed po'a seeds to slow the onset of symptoms. Once I see that I have your full cooperation, you will have the antidote." She affected surprise. “Don’t let that affect your decision! You can still choose to help the king.”

Silence crashed into the room like a breaking wave, leaving shock and horror in its wake. Every type of water-bloom had its own special venom; there was no telling what Liria had used in her unique mix until after someone had died from it.

"You poisoned us," Sanu whispered aloud, stating the obvious.

Lors snorted, but there was a hint of new respect and admiration in his eyes as he nodded. "Not that toothless after all."

"No," said Liria, smiling sweetly. "Not at all."

[vroomian]

for some reason my brain is insisting that in the KHR au LWJ and WWX are also there somewhere. and the three of Tham get together somehow. I can totally see WWX figuring out necromancy using his Flames.

i guess they can come along for the cray mafia ride! lwj, like, follows yrz to namimori for some reason -- oh!! oh shit maybe mama lan (former mafia perhaps?) finally got out of her abusive marriage and moved to namimori? yeah, and lwj and lxc had to stay with the lans because mama lan was just not in the right place to take care of them, and she understood that, and made sure to contact them every single week, at the minimum. so like lwj is going with yrz to go see his mom? hell yeah, i could go for that! we get to see mama lan ship her baby boy and his bff! 

you know what i think that wwx’s parents are also alive in this one! maybe they know reborn and sent wwx over on to protect him??? wwx is hilariously unsuited for mafia life and his parents sent him away to hide him from the vindice for some reason??? still as the only Chinese people in namimori they all meet up and wwx does his thing, bam they’re friends! 

as for flames, i’d put lwj as a cloud + rain, because he brings tranquility to chaos in canon. he keeps people calm because he’s so reliable. wwx, mist is the obvious choice but that’s boring, so id put him down as a sun, but in a horrifying way? like sun's attribute is activation -- so maybe he can like ‘reactivate’ the dead? also suns are notoriously hard to kill like wwx lol. wwx is flame active from the start, and lwj is not, because he doesn’t come from mafia. 

the lans are all police investigators or something lol. lwj follows yrz and wwx intp the mafia, to lqr’s despair

(cangse sanren = cloud + sky, wwx dad = sun, jfm = rain, jc = lighting, madame yu = lighting, jyl = sky + rain, lxc = mist (yeah i know what i said), mama lan = cloud, rest of the lan = rain (inactive), jgy = storm (him angry boi), nhs = weak mist + storm, nmj = pure sky)

anyway wwx and hibari have a great time fighting each other. 

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 146: The Secret Riddle

It was a small room, but they'd all been crammed into worse recently. There was one bed, one chair next to a window, and a large dresser.

The view was a nondescript muggle neighborhood, but all they cared about was the sun trickling in. The silver book sat on the chair, but they were all still barely on their feet and beyond exhausted, just taking a moment to breathe in this new air that wasn't layered with dark magic.

James, Remus, and Sirius started speaking gently to each other by the bed at once, but she turned away to run her hand over Frank's hair one more time in concern for this newest landing, even in such tight space, for if he'd hit his head again. He caught her hand with a smile and kissed the back of it. "I'm fine darling, honestly."

"Still, can't say I'll ever try to get you on a broom again," she sighed as she squeezed his hand, Lily still watching analytically as well. Her potion had worked perfectly and the poor girl still didn't seem to trust herself.

He smiled and began to say, "since when do you give up so easily on-"

"What am I missing?" James said in such a sharp voice, the others turned to watch, cutting off Regulus and Peter opening the cupboard, but they hadn't even gotten the lone box down yet.

Peter had been able to tell Regulus wanted to investigate this muggle place but had been restraining himself, sadly neither were going to get to find out as they watched in dread too for that tone.

"Nothing," Remus watched the two with a plea in his voice, there was still dried blood under his healed nose and the scabbed scratches under his eyes made him look even more exhausted than usual. His voice sounded hoarse, but whether from his recent bout of screaming or something else wasn't entirely clear. "Old memory, they clearly stopped doing it! You heard that guy in the ward, they weren't doing anything to him-"

"Congratulations!" Sirius' voice was anything but congratulatory as he made some odd wild gesture while they all watched in concern.

Remus sank onto the bed and put his face in his hands while the other two seemed to realize for the first time they were not alone. Sirius leaned in and said something just to James. That didn't last either as Potter shouted, "that's great, now we have to figure out a way to burn down a hospital!"

Sirius grabbed his arm tight and whispered something else, a needed gesture when he looked murderous but said nothing more and turned away.

Lily at once made for the door with an apologetic look at Alice, she wasn't going to get in the middle of one of their arguments. She'd play nice with them in the meantime, but she wasn't getting involved in that.

Alice still hoped she'd done well enough to at least try with James first, "is everything-"

"Nope!" He stated in a voice of cold fury as he threw himself into the chair.

The door opened, and they certainly weren't going to argue the point at the clear dismissal and blessed relief. The hallway felt like a cold draft, but it was better than the rising heat in the room they'd just left. Only Peter hesitated in the door, but he turned with them quick enough as they began exploring.

It was like an odd form of a hotel, each room the exact same as all the others they'd left, and the book's chapter title gave no clear answer to where they were. Riddle had lots of secrets. Down the stairs to the second floor, the next door they tried looked like someone's office, a bottle next to some blank papers the only thing of interest.

"What's an orphanage?" Alice asked as she found the name of this place repeatedly on a few signed papers by some woman named Mrs. Cole.

"Um," Lily looked so confused for a moment, Alice thought she didn't know either before explaining, "ah, a place, kids without homes go to. Wizards, don't have anything like that?"

"Not that I know of," she said back in fasciation. She frowned as she wondered not for the first time what would have happened to Neville, or Harry had they not ended up in unsuitable homes. "Wizards struggle having kids a bit, if you didn't know, the Weasley's are a bit of an oddity in that way. I guess it's just never been a concern."

"Ah," she said in mild fascination, already wanting to ask a dozen questions and do a whole study on this if she knew how without putting her foot in her mouth, again.

Regulus kept shooting glances back up the stairs with worry and biting his cheek, but seemed to decide rather than going back to ask after his brother to pick up one of his bad habits as he made for the adult beverage. "Who wants to bet this has something to do with another of Dumbledore's memories to Harry? Bet a shot he still doesn't answer a single worthwhile thing."

Peter looked at him with concern but didn't try to stop him. Frank let out a resound sigh that nobody was going to do so, and in a pitiful attempt to at least reign the kid in said, "only if I get the first." He was a lot bigger, hopefully he'd get the majority before the kid was inebriated.

The chapter didn't get far in before it abruptly stopped, causing Peter to quietly back out of the room and go back up the stairs. Regulus noticed, but he just didn't have the heart to get into any of it right now. After Potter had actually thanked Peter for once back there, he wasn't going to butt his nose into their mess if they didn't want him, which Sirius' look had clearly said.

"Merlin Sirius, were you just going to leave him like that?" James had asked in concern as he first got a proper look at Remus' face now that he wasn't on the floor. Their landing had not been kind, his nose was still bleeding fresh, with the foggy sunlight trickling in making him look sicker than usual. "Episky," he continued before either had even answered.

"Didn't exactly get a chance to notice," Sirius said with chagrin, grabbing Remus' chin and tipping it in the new light to see even though the charm worked perfectly. "He wouldn't get off of me."

He pushed Sirius' hand away and rubbed at his now healed nose with a light smile of thanks, the scratches under his eyes were starting to itch a bit and he fought the urge to pick at them. "I thought it made me look rather debonair Prongs."

"You've been spending far too much time around Padfoot," James told him sincerely.

"Relax, I'm fine." Remus insisted as both kept watching him with real concern. "I panicked, just like Pete, sorry I was-"

"Don't bother Moony," Sirius sighed, resisting the urge to brush at his gray bangs. "I know, okay, and I'm so sorry. I'll kill whoever did that to you if you ever tell me."

Remus jolted a step back in surprise towards the bed, feeling more embarrassed by the second now, "what, he told you-"

"He who?" James asked in further concern.

"My parents have mentioned some shit Remus, you know that," Sirius grimly reminded, unintentionally ignoring Prongs' very valid question as he answered Moony's focus. "My dad's sent letters to St. Mungo's recommending they use silver ones instead. Do not ever make me repeat what Walburga's said on the matter, and I'll kill Regulus if he has to you."

"What am I missing?" James demanded with rising hostility as Remus just looked dejected, maybe even embarrassed still as color rose in his face.

"Nothing," Remus tried to insist. "Old memory, they clearly stopped doing it! You heard that guy in the ward, they weren't doing anything to him-"

"Congratulations," Sirius mockingly threw confetti about for a moment, before he saw James mouthing with peak anger but no clear direction, but it was obvious he knew he'd missed something. Sirius winced and looked back at Remus, who had sat on the bed and now wasn't looking at anyone, because they had all attention, and none of them were quite sure when it had started. Kicking himself furiously for putting Remus on the spot, but there was no backing out of this now, he leaned in and whispered to Prongs for a few seconds the vile words of what he knew was done to werewolves during their stay in St. Mungo's, at least in their day and age.

Remus didn't look up, and was glad not to have done so as James sounded apocalyptic with fury, "that's great, now we have to figure out a way to burn down a hospital!"

The others turned to him in genuine fear for whatever the hell they'd been talking about, but Sirius grabbed James' arm hard and hissed in his ear, "I shouldn't have brought it up Prongs, I was being an idiot. We'll boycott the place and make someone pay, trust me, but-" he didn't need to keep going, James looked over and saw how miserable Moony looked.

"Err, is everything-" Alice tried to ask, but James grabbed up the book and threw himself into the chair.

"Nope!" He answered her casually enough as if his voice wasn't still laced with homicide when he read, "The Secret Riddle."

Evans tried the door, and was clearly relieved when it opened and they could escape his wrath. Sirius watched them all slowly depart, only Peter hesitated at the door to watch in concern before leaving with a look of some regret, but it was clear as he watched Sirius he was not invited, and the other two just did not notice. Each obviously hovered in the hall as they looked around, but the strange environment felt almost like the safest place in the world to be after what they'd just left, so nobody lingered to close. Sirius sat himself on the edge of the bed and glared after each, still trying to figure out in his head who Remus had meant and violently chastising himself for forgetting the audience all at once.

Remus only let James get far enough in to affirm Katie was on her way to St. Mungo's and how harshly he said that before he couldn't take it anymore and reached out to gently tug on the book so James had to look at him. "You both need to relax," Remus said with a constricted throat for how grateful he was for their anger, but he tried his best to push past that, it would only encourage them he was sure. He gently touched the back of Sirius' hand to make sure he was listening when he reminded, "it was a long time ago, okay? Just a stupid thing that happened when I was a kid-"

"Wasn't your dad's idea was it?" James suddenly demanded, watching him for several moments before an odd flash of regret lit his eyes and he frowned at the door.

Remus barely registered he'd been interrupted, he'd never cared when they had. He hesitated before answering, which didn't feel encouraging. "I don't, think so, just standard procedure-"

"But he could have-" James cut in hotly, before he realized he'd done it even sooner this time and forcefully closed his mouth.

"Listen," Remus repeated sternly now. "Don't make this a thing, please? The memory came back to me when we were in St. Mungo's, Peter found me and promised he wouldn't tell. I wake up face first on my pillow most days and don't even flinch, the staff was being cautious and ignorant, will you two please relax?"

"I'll get back to you on that," Sirius said stiffly, looking out the window now. If Remus got mad at him for forgetting about his privacy Sirius couldn't even blame him this time; between that, his furious mental imaginings of ripping some unknown person's face off and realizing Remus would never actually let him do it and still all the while the cold dread eating away at him he'd been absolutely useless to help either, he was far too strung up to concentrate on any one thing.

James breathed past his boiling blood for a few more moments before offering Remus the book with a very forced smile. "Alright Moony, but I need to blow something up first, you know that!" Then he blasted the wardrobe up without further warning, watching without concern as the contents scattered around the room. A yo-yo smacked into the ceiling and went skittering away to the hall, a silver thimble smacked against the window, and a tarnished mouth organ fell onto the foot of the bed.

He took care of his tread as he went to the door and shut it behind him, giving them their peace, well aware Sirius had always been better about Remus on nearly every aspect. If he would admit there was a problem, it would be to him. It didn't dissolve his bloodlust as he imagined his friend suffering something like that and nobody caring! He stalked across the hall, and found a mirror room of the one he'd just left. He transfigured the chair into a bat and vented like everything was a bludger for several moments before exhaustion caught up with him and he sat on the floor, probably getting a few splinters in his ass.

It only helped to release the worst of his feelings, the brutal images in his mind felt justified now that he'd turned this room into the hospital in his head, but he didn't know what else to do to make this go away.

There was the softest of throat clearings, and he turned wearily to see Peter hovering in the doorway.

"Wrong room mate," he smiled because he just had to make a joke about something right now or he'd start screaming. "Serious Bites is across the hall."

Peter laughed, just like he always did. James grinned in relief and chucked his bat one last time, watching with some satisfaction as it hit exactly where he'd wanted, breaking the last leg off the wardrobe on its side.

"Sorry," Peter whispered, again. "Is Moony okay?"

"Pretending he is, as usual," he sighed, starting to rub at his temples. "Don't know why you didn't stay." Peter didn't answer, and James looked up in further exhaustion to see the now familiar look on his face. "Padfoot wasn't going to make you leave. Merlin, I thought you two were working it out?" It was more a wistful statement than an actual question though, Sirius had made himself perfectly clear...and now he felt left with a choice he did not want to make, because he already knew the answer.

Wormtail was up here though, hadn't even flinched when he'd thrown the bat. He shrugged noncommittally, and James thumped his head against the wall. He was half tempted to grab Peter and shove him into the room, drag Remus back out, and lock those two in there until they worked themselves out. He probably would have if Remus hadn't just gone through that.

"Thanks Wormtail," he said instead, "for being at the hospital with him. I know the Wing at school bothers him, but I never knew it was that bad."

"How bad, exactly?" Peter asked in concern. "He was having a panic attack, but he just asked me not to tell you two so I-"

"Muzzles and shit," he answered, not exactly listening to the rest, before slamming his head as he realized he did it again. Damn, Regulus had been right. "Sorry," he muttered quickly.

Peter looked at him like he'd spontaneously turned into a unicorn.

The book finally started again, but James had a headache and didn't feel like getting back up even though Remus sounded reasonably calm and content now. "Padfoot works his magic again," he muttered to no one in particular, but Peter still snickered softly. "You don't have to hang around Pete, go find Regulus or the others or whatever. I'm still plotting how to overthrow the most needed hospital in Britain."

"Don't have to do it alone," Peter said softly. "You're the one who taught us that."

James swallowed past a lump in his throat as he offered his hand. Peter grinned and kept his balance as he got to his feet.

"Regulus found a bottle of gin," Peter told him with something far too close to Padfoot's level of exasperation when speaking of his brother as they went back to the hall.  It was extremely disconcerting and not his highest concern right now. "Guy decided to challenge Longbottom to a shot contest every time Dumbledore doesn't properly answer someone's question, I wouldn't be surprised if they're drunk by now."

James stopped him before he went down the stairs though. "Did you tell them about the hospital?"

"No," Peter said instantly.

"Well I'm not either," he said calmly. "We'll bring it up with Moony when he wants to, but it's still his business Pete."

Peter began with such a weary look. "Prongs I'm not going to-"

James opened his mouth in protest, caught himself on the first syllable, and forcefully closed his mouth back.

Peter looked like he'd been struck on the head as he finished, "say anything, promise."

James scrutinized him for a moment before Peter whispered softly, "but they obviously noticed, what are we going to say?"

"Tell them to mind their own business," he shrugged. "I'm glad none of them hate Remus, really, but just because Harry's life is an open book for us doesn't mean all of us have to join in."

"Yeah," Peter said softly, "let's see if that lasts."

James sighed but followed him back to the others, still watching the door over his shoulder in concern.

Prongs got casually to his feet and gently closed the door behind him, but they could still hear a few things getting demolished in the hall.

"Better than chasing down one of the others to curse them," Remus muttered absently, eyes now on Sirius. He reached out and tentatively touched his face, turning his chin until they were meeting eyes again before Remus gave him that coquettish smile he knew Padfoot loved so much, finally easing the tension there in both of them. "I don't hate everything that covers my mouth," he promised before leaning in.

Sirius always snogged like it was his last breath, a fire in him he put into everything. Remus eagerly drank his fill in now as he pulled Sirius on top of him with a deep hunger for the endorphins released. He'd swear on his life Padfoot tasted like puppy breath and pure heat, an intoxicating addiction. Sirius did not encourage farther though, instead Remus could feel as his fingers brushed gently along his eyes where the self inflicted scratches lingered, one hand steadily on his neck, and then Sirius pulled back panting with longing but still not even hinting he was going to ask for more.

Remus blinked and glanced at the door to make sure it hadn't opened without his noticing.

"Would you hate me if I asked, not right now?" Sirius asked hoarsely. He felt an extra hard flair in his chest that he stubbornly ignored for now when Remus answered.

"Would you love me if I agreed?" Remus grinned back, knowing he'd proven his point as he rubbed the bottom of his own lip with want. His heart was still fluttering erratically when he realized Sirius wasn't going to answer, even in the joking way for not meaning the same, he still loved to hear it. James had good timing though, as something else was loudly destroyed, and it was more than likely someone was going to come back for the book. He hated being the logical one sometimes, it was nice that Sirius was agreeing for whatever his reason. Until he realized what that might be.

Sirius pursed his lips to hold onto that feeling a few moments longer and force himself not to chase after more as he sat back. "Maybe we should, get some sleep," he offered, eying the door again. "Plenty of beds here-"

"No," Remus grabbed him before he could get up, eyes wide and desperate again, and Sirius cussed aloud he was helping nothing. If Moony still wanted his company he wasn't going to deny him. So Remus wasn't mad at him this time, but he still wanted to talk to James about Peter.

Remus didn't know why Sirius wanted to tell James about them right now, wasn't one catastrophe at a time enough! "Honestly Sirius, can't we just, keep going with this?"

He snatched up the book as if he didn't have a care for the color, which in itself showed how off he clearly was. Sirius quietly nodded, moving so that he was laid out on the bed, and pulled Remus so that he could lay on his chest and read. He knew delaying when he saw it, and whether it was Moony feared having a nightmare or he just wanted to really change the subject and hoped explanation of where they were would do that, Sirius forced himself to begin relaxing.

He played with the little white tag inside Remus' shirt and read it, tucked it back in, let his nails and knuckles graze the back of Moony's neck until he saw goosebumps, and then started over. Remus never scolded him, and it let his mind wander.

What he wouldn't give to get lost in the best kind of release he'd ever felt being with Remus to get rid of the lingering anger in him for too many things again, fall asleep and wake up pretending nothing had happened, but the last few times he'd done that it had all come back on him hard. He would tell James he was done pretending, but like Prongs had offered on Regulus, he wasn't going to stop him keeping Peter around. It was a simple solution to him, honestly thinking it would just go back to normal when they got back to school as far as he was concerned.

He'd ignored his own little brother for years in that castle, he could effectively do the same to Peter even if they did share a dorm. He should really just stop trying to pretend he had any right to siblings, James was more than he'd ever deserved anyways and he felt no desire for others.

It didn't feel good to acknowledge, but it was sure a lot better than anything else he'd been forcing on himself lately.

He only waited long enough to hear the explanation for where they were, Voldemort's own orphanage, before he decided to interrupt. "Wouldn't you know, we're in the place of his very first torture ground! Surely there's a plaque around to commemorate the event!"

Remus chuckled lightly and flipped the page, his voice was so relaxed now it was starting to drag with sleep, only the disquiet for what he was reading keeping him awake Sirius was sure, but he tugged on a few of the hairs at the base of his neck to keep his attention until he looked back up and Sirius asked curiously, "you miss having Peter around?" It's not like it was just his decision. He'd made it pretty clear recently enough Sirius didn't even know why he'd been bothering to try.

Moony frowned though, and Sirius let his hand rest, cupping his neck when he guessed the answer right before Remus admitted. "A bit, yeah."

He turned back to the book but didn't keep going, instead fidgeting with the corners of the page before offering, "I, talked to him more than you though, I think. When you and James are out at Quidditch practice, or detention or whatever, it would just be us in the dorms. Hasn't really hit me yet, but I suppose he'll be gone from there himself now as much as he can."

"Not necessarily," Sirius said quickly, doing his damndest to figure out how to make it so Peter didn't feel unwelcomed, he still didn't want him actually turning to the Dark Arts anymore than Regulus. He didn't like Peter's instinctive use of spell, but James was okay, it hadn't been unforgivable. The fact that he'd kept his mouth shut about being there for Moony in St. Mungo's actually felt in line too, hell he could learn something about keeping his mouth shut on occasion.

He was just going to stop forcing them to constantly be around him, clearly it was helping no one but Remus, and he was starting to question that with how flippy he'd been on even touching him lately. He regretted stopping this time so much his chest was starting to ache, what if Remus changed his mind again!

"It's okay Padfoot," Remus reached up and squeezed his hand still in place, only now realizing he hadn't continued the fidgety movement. He'd have thought Remus would be relieved to go on without it. "Nobody likes change, but we'll all work it out. This shits had a pretty big impact on him, on all of us, so whatever you're worried about happening, just please let it go?"

Sirius kissed his forehead in quiet admittance, but he still held Remus much closer than was really called for when they weren't explicitly doing anything and resumed the absentminded strokes, relaxing back and just forcing himself to pay attention to Harry now. He really, really hoped that wasn't Moony trying to tell him he was still thinking about pulling away too. He tried to go back to his last blossoming issue and figure out why Remus had agreed to stop now.

At least he hadn't tried to be alone this time, had in fact encouraged Sirius to stay like he hadn't before. There was just something so off though that he wasn't saying, and clearly a sexual release wasn't helping like it did with him. Remus always got quiet around full moons and wanted to be alone to sleep, but he'd even denied that this time!

The way he leaned comfortably in his arms let him think otherwise for now. He didn't say anything else as the chapter concluded, not even as Dumbledore promised all these memories and this strangest one of all where Voldemort apparently was a kleptomaniac had some end goal. Damn, Evans was right, but he'd discuss this with them both later. Who knew he'd ever value silence so much.

[hb-writes]

Thank you for listening.

Inspired by my 101 lovely followers and  @love-me-a-good-prompt’s “THANK YOU IDEAS” prompt list.

Summary: SherlockBBC story (same universe as this one). A look at how Lucy Watson ended up living with her brother, John, and the famous Sherlock Holmes. 

Featuring: John Watson, Watson!Sister (Lucy)

-----

When John finally located his sister, the girl was settled comfortably on a bench, earbuds firmly in place. The music was clearly too loud coming through her headphones and she had a hardcover book placed open in her lap. 

John had no idea how many times he had warned the girl about being careful, especially with herself, and especially when in unfamiliar places. London was certainly not the same as the small, rural area where the Watson children had been raised, and his dear little sister would do well to pay better attention to her surroundings rather than tuning them out completely. John shook his head, mildly frustrated despite knowing that the girl was far beyond change at this point.

From a few feet away, John watched Lucy, noting the differences introduced since their last meeting. His sister was no longer a child, this observation evidenced by the subtle change in height and the way her face and choice of attire looked like more of that of a young woman than a young girl. Her lips were a shade or so darker than what he imagined them to be naturally. The waves of her hair fell longer now and she kept them loosely braided, falling over her left shoulder. A pair of brown, thick-framed glasses hung low on her nose as her head tilted down.

Lucy felt a presence beside her before she heard or saw anything and tried to glance up without being too obvious or inviting a conversation. She started at seeing that the presence sat beside her was her older brother, a knowing look settled upon his face.

She nearly shouted his name before grasping onto him, knocking the wind out of John a bit as she fastened herself around his chest. A breath of relief that John didn’t realize he had been holding escaped and he continued to hold his sister so long as she wished to be held, his hand gently cradling the head that had nestled up to the jumper under his jacket.

It had been a long while since they had last seen each other, far too long if John was being honest with himself. She had been his avid pen pal throughout his time away in the war, keeping him abreast of updates in her schooling and life with Harry, but nothing was as good as having the girl with him in person. Even if Lucy was only there on account of her own mischief, John was still happy to have her.

As he held her, John silently cursed himself. He should have gone to seen her the moment he returned to the country but seeing Lucy meant seeing Harry, and he simply hadn’t been ready to face that. He would at least need to speak to their sister now, what with their young ward running to him.

When Lucy finally pulled back, she wiped away some stray tears with the back of her hand. John ran a hand over her head, resting his hand on the back of her neck and kissing her forehead.

“That's enough. No more tears, sweetheart.”

Lucy smiled at the sentiment and leaned back against the bench. “I’ve missed you, John,” she said.

“And I’ve missed you,” he echoed.

“Well, that’s a relief as I’m certain that you’re quite angry regarding this whole thing and about to be unreasonably cross.”

“I don’t think it is by any means unreasonable should I choose to be cross with you,” John answered. He had pulled his little sister into his side and she rested her head against him. “Why are you here, sweetheart?” 

“I don’t want to stay with Harry any longer, especially not if Sara won’t be there and you’re staying here in London. Harry’s just downright insufferable and she doesn’t understand me. She is not a very adept parental figure, John. You never should have left me with her to begin with.”

“Now that will be enough of that,” he answered despite knowing that much of it was likely true.

“I just couldn’t stay there,” Lucy mumbled.

With Sara gone, their sister Harry had been different. She had been drinking more, angry and aggressive with her younger sister, and Lucy had had quite enough.

“And you thought the best way to alleviate the situation was to throw a tantrum, hopping on the next train to London by yourself?”

A blush crept into Lucy's cheeks. She had been away from the responsible childrearing of her brother for several years and had forgotten what his displeasure, even if only slight, felt like. Their sister was largely a ‘hands-off’ type of guardian, allowing Lucy to essentially do as she pleased, though as of late the two sisters had taken to considerable bickering and shouting matches. John, on the other hand, had never stood for the shouting or the arguments or the tantrums.

“She told me to get out of her sight, John,” Lucy defended. "I was only doing as I was told."

“And that was not alright for her to say though I’m sure you did something to provoke it.”

Lucy moved them along. She didn’t intend on getting into such details, at least not at the train station, not so soon after their reunion. Instead, she offered her big brother a troublesome little smile, the glint reaching her eyes.

“Well, you and Harry don’t ever talk anymore." She shrugged. "I had to get your attention somehow.”

“Good to know you are still a willful little terror.” he chided with a smile.

"I think that's a bit harsh, John."

“And I think you know of better ways I prefer for you to garner my attention,” John answered, eyebrows raised.

“I know, John. I do. And I’m terribly sorry, truly. You, sir, are looking at the very sorriest of little sisters. But please don’t be cross. I just missed you and I wanted to see you and it didn’t seem as though you had any intention of ever coming home to see me and I honestly believe if I hadn’t come here, you would be down a sister, though admittedly I am not sure which one of us you’d be missing.”

“This wasn’t about you, sweetheart. It has never been about you.”

“That’s what you both say, but I seem to be the one getting the continuous ‘shit-end’ of the stick.”

John raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she muttered, though John didn't miss the eye roll. “Horrid, entirely unsuitable habit, I know. I just mean, well, you both tend to take your issues out on me, whether you intend to or not. I’m like a child of divorce now.”

“And I apologize it seems that way, but that’s no reason to go all stroppy and storm off without permission.”

“She knew precisely where I was going, John, and I called ahead to let you know that I was on my way.”

“Yes, you called to tell me to come collect you while you were already halfway along on your journey to London. By yourself. With. Out. Permission.” John punctuated his point by jabbing his sister in the shoulder with a finger after each word.

“Now who’s being the stroppy one?” she joked, nudging him.

“Well, it should go without saying that you, my dear sister, are confined to the flat until we sort this out. Grounded, actually.”

Lucy scrunched her face up. “What about playing tourist? I haven’t been to London in ages and I don’t get grounded anymore either,” she said.

“And how does our dear sister deal with your various indiscretions?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t. Not that I have many. I'm a very well behaved, John.”

John tried not to scoff. He was far from surprised that Harry didn’t discipline their younger sister. She supposed that if any of that went on in their household, it would have been her partner’s doing. Sara had always been the sensible one in that relationship.

“Well, I wouldn't think it wise for you to expect things to continue in that manner while you’re here. You’ve always required a healthy dose of structure. You’re not to go out on your own. If you behave, I’ll consider taking you out myself.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t ‘hmph’, me, Lucille Evangeline Watson.”

“That name is so bloody pretentious, John Hamish Watson," she mocked, sharpening her tone.

John rolled his eyes. “What in the world am I going to do with you?”

Lucy shrugged. “Maybe give me a proper hug and take me for some lunch?”

John nodded and she stood up beside him. He took Lucy into his arms, feeling her relax in his hold before taking one of her bags and stepping off, leaving her to manage the backpack.

"Thank you, John."

"For what?" he asked.

"For listening before shouting," Lucy answered. "Harry shouts first and listens never."

John sighed, pulling his sister in to his side. "No sense in shouting if we haven’t a need."

--

Sherlock BBC Masterlist

[livesincerely]

I know I probably missed the boat timing-wise for your little ask game but I am d y i n g to know more about the college years for the domestic au.

There’s no such thing as too late!!! (I am super into all these Domestic AU asks, btw)

Jack and Davey only apply to the same schools. There’s a rough patch right at the beginning where Jack worries that he’s holding Davey back—he think’s he’s too poor or too stupid to get into the schools Davey will. Davey disabuses him of that idea with haste.

“Jack Kelly,” Davey starts, and he’s absolutely furious. Furious with Jack for even saying such a thing, but even more upset with the world for daring to put these thoughts in Jack’s head. “You are going to college. You are a fantastic artist and any school would be lucky to have you. We will figure out tuition money. We will figure out tuition money even if we have to fill out scholarship applications until our fingers bleed, even if I have to call every single financial aid office in this whole damn country. But so help me, if you ever suggest that you’re holding me back again, I’ll break your fucking nose.” Davey takes a breath, chest heaving. Jack just stands there gaping at him, eyes wide with shock. “So sit back down and finish signing those papers.”

(Jack doesn’t figure it out until much much later, but this is definitely the moment he starts to fall in love with Davey)

But anyway, Jack and Davey go to school together, Jack as an art student with a focus in graphic design and Davey as a double major in English and Education. They get a three bedroom apartment not far from campus with help from Medda. Race is 11 and just starting middle school, Crutchie is 10 and in fifth grade. Neither is at all bothered about moving to a new school district and are really excited about living with Jack and Davey.

So, Jack’s been taking care of Racetrack and Crutchie’s paperwork—school, medical, etc—for ages, and Davey has been an unofficial contact on their stuff for years, but now it’s official. Jack and Davey are each other’s emergency contacts and they’re both on all the boys’ stuff. Jack and Davey try their absolute best to be reliable, involved guardians. We’re talking parent-teacher conferences, going to band recitals, helping with homework, etc, and it’s not that it’s really all that different than things had been before Jack got custody, but there’s the added pressure of being The Adults in Charge. They do a much better job than they think they do, just through sheer effort and the amount of love they have for Race and Crutchie.

The first big test of the new normal is when Davey gets a call from the middle school telling him that there’s been an incident with Race. Jack is in the middle of a final and can’t go, so it’s just Davey. Davey shows up to find Race with a bloody nose and some little shithead kid with a fat lip and annoying HOA parents, crying crocodile tears and calling Race a thug. It’s obvious that these people are super entitled and used to getting their way, and the principal is all set to roll over and give Race a suspension without even hearing his side of the story. Davey is not having it.

“Excuse me,” Davey says in an absolutely frigid tone of voice, looking at Principal Jefferson with barely concealed contempt in his eyes. Racetrack sidles ever so slightly closer to him, already starting to un-tense; it’s been a few years but he still remembers the school bus incident. He knows that Davey’s got this. “I’m afraid I don’t understand why suspension is even an option at this point.” “Any student engaging in violence will receive a three-day suspension—“ “Yes, I read the handbook,” Davey coldly interrupts. “It also says you have a rigorous anti-bullying policy, with special wording to protect those from marginalized groups and those in particularly delicate circumstances. Is allowing a former foster child to be taunted with the fact of his parents’ deaths, then punishing him for understandably lashing out, what you call protecting them?”

Race and Davey go home with an apology from the school, and an excuse for the classes he missed while in the principal’s office

“I forget that Davey can actually be scary sometimes,” Racetrack whispers to Crutchie later that night. “You shoulda seen him—I thought Mr. Jefferson was gonna puke.” Crutchie wisely observes, “It’s ‘cause by the time Davey gets angry, Jack’s already went and punched someone.” “Well, Jack should let Davey have more turns being the mean one,” Race says. “He needs to stay in practice.”

Every now and then, when Race and Crutchie have days off from school but Jack and Davey have class, they go to campus with them. They usually go with Davey, as Davey’s large lecture halls and discussion classrooms have more space for two children to post up with a few quiet activities than Jack’s smaller art studios do. Most people are understanding, especially since Race and Crutchie are old enough to sit quietly for a few hours with snacks or whatever. Davey only had to go full berserker on someone once for the entire English department to get the memo. And honestly, Race and Crutchie are a good tool for weeding out unsuitable candidates from the Education department.

I’ve been thinking about doing something with the pre-domestic au ideas. There really needs to be a “5 times...” type fic with Davey protecting Race and Crutchie that explores how the two of them learn to trust and rely on him the way they do Jack, because I have IDEAS. Or maybe they’ll just exist in these little lists. 😊

00000

@agentsnickers

[edgymegatronus]

Day 2! Let’s goooo -

Warnings: MTMTE/LL Spoliers, gay, Whirl’s a dick, bar fight.

——————

The smash of broken glass and yells of strangled pain were audible from down the hall. Ultra Magnus sped up, tucking his datapad away as he trod heavily into the entrance of Swerve’s, Megatron drawing quickly up behind him.

Magnus didn’t even have to look behind himself to know the grey mech’s expression. His dark demeanor was enough as they both stared forward at the ensuing chaos that was Swerve’s very unlicensed bar. Ruckus ensued.

Seemingly the main cause of the riot was the blue helicopter hovering just above the centre table, making objects swirl with the wind his propellers generated. Between this and threatening to shoot random mechs over something or other, Magnus’ parental lock instincts kicked on. Swerve himself was nowhere to be seen. The likes of Bluestreak and Riptide where squatting behind an overturned table and occasionally throwing projectiles like glasses or datapads at Whirl who was shouting words unspeakable.

Normally with bar fights, Magnus’ presence and stern gaze alone was enough to quieten the mayhem- but today, even with Megatron the Deathbringer stood behind him with a face like a slapped arse, no notice was taken.

Almost simultaneously in a flash of grey and blue, both mechs stepped forward, right servos raised and boomed,

“CEASE NOW OR SPEND THE NIGHT IN THE ENGINE ROOM,” both of their deep tones overlapping.

The room fell silent in a near instant, only the shatter of a last minute- thrown glass echoing about the walls. Magnus swallowed thickly in a sort of astonished shock before lowering his arm and looking open mouthed to Megatron, who was staring in the complete opposite direction while maintaining his dark expression.

A moment of stunned silence, and then came the jeering and uproarious laughter, wolf whistling. Whirl transformed and stood on the table just to point and make some marked comment about old married couples. The bar fight had ended, but not in the way Magnus originally intended. He felt his frame heat with embarrassment before going to give one last cursory comment but deciding it was against his better judgement. The noise continued as he made his exit and walked swiftly down the halls. If it wasn't apparent that the ship's general respect for him had sunk to a ground level after finding out his true identity, this was the final nail in the coffin of his reputation. Not to mention the numerous rumours flying about the ship of his and Megstron’s… fraternisation. Most of which were likely spread by Swerve, but this would only fuel the fire.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he entered his Office and leant back on the door. Allowing his frame to slump slightly as fans cycled monotonously. If anything, Minimus had rarely felt smaller. It wasn’t just embarrassing - it was concerning. Was it really that obvious? Or perhaps it was just coincidence. After all, they had both said the exact same thing at the exact same time. Any two mechs that did that would have gained the same reaction from the likes of Whirl and the regulars of Swerves. Not just himself and Megatron.

Magnus sighed and pushed off from the door, circling his office to sit behind his immaculately clean desk. Upon one check it was clear all his desk tidies were placed away perfectly within his desk tidy, and it became obvious too soon he had nothing proper to distract himself. All his reports were complete and had been sent off to their receivers, the data logs where up to date. There was nothing immediately he could do, apart from perhaps - some light reading.

Not that it mattered as a sharp knock soon made itself heard at the door. Not that it’s origin waited for a response. That always irked Magnus. What was the point of knocking at all if he insisted on walking in immediately afterwards anyway?

“I wanted to.. Check up on you.” Megatron spoke steadily as he closed the door behind himself and took centerplace in front of the security officer’s desk. The blue mech placed the datapad in his servos down and allowed himself a small exvent. It was all too welcome that Megatron used this facade of caring now - though it was unsuited for him.

“I appreciate the thought, but I am fine.” Internally Minimus cringed, that had come out a lot sharper than intended. Not that it showed on Megatron's features that he’d picked it up, but of course he had. The officer averted his optics and stood up, walking to the door in a clear action to open it to allow Megatron out. However the grey mech caught his wrist before he ever had the opportunity.

Magnus stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at the black servo on his wrist before glancing slightly up to observe its owner's features. With a note of comfort, Megatron looked vaguely unsure of himself. His spark thrummed slightly faster and the moment of silence between them seemed to last a fresh millenia. The ex warlord stalled for a moment, making a noise like clearing his throat before beginning a sentence he’d never finish.

This wasn’t their first kiss, he thought as he placed two digits beneath Megatron’s chin and tilted his helm up, claiming those lips for his own. Nor would it likely be their last. Perhaps the heckles from Swerves clientel annoyed him so brashly because there was an element of truth to them. Magnus took a step forward towards the door, pushing Megatron’s frame back against the embellished window that stated his overly long job title.

Servos flew behind helms and to waists, digits trailing up only recently familiar seams on each other’s armour causing soft exhales and shivers.

Megatron made a mental note to pay more visits to Swerves during riot hour.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 10 - Gogo

Disclaimer:  So, this story is PG. Basically anything you might see come up in an old 90s sitcom, like Boy Meets World, Fresh Prince, Save by the Bell ect, is liable to show up along with anything that the parent shows cover. Nothing unsuitable for family entertainment, but clearly covering more mature subjects than the original source material, including today’s chapter which discusses alcohol.

Varian was hot. The sun beat down on the back of his neck and sweat began to trickle down his forehead. He couldn't remember experiencing a hotter day. In Corona the temperature wouldn't rise more than a balmy 15 degrees Celsius normally, but today, here in San Fansokyo, it had to be close to 20 or more. His phone said it was 73 degrees Fahrenheit specifically, but he was still getting used to the different measurements Americans typically used. All he knew was that he had worn the lightest clothes he had, a tank top and athletic shorts, and he was still burning up. 

Unfortunately, there was nowhere to escape from the oppressive heat. He was standing on the sidewalk next to a stranger's house while Gogo worked on their car. She did repair work on vehicles as a side job. Often exchanging her services for a cheaper price to other students which in turn gave her more flexibility in what jobs she took and when. 

Right now she was helping out another student whose car wouldn't start and didn't want to call a tow to take it to a mechanic. Varian had expressed an interest in learning how automobiles worked, so she had agreed to letting him come along and teaching him some basics. However, there was nothing for him to do at the moment. Gogo was under the vehicle on a rolling board and there wasn't enough room for both of them down there. So all Varian could do was standby and watch, which was difficult as he couldn't really see what she was doing from the position she was in now. 

Instead he surveyed the street and surrounding buildings. There were the tightly packed three story townhouses behind them and on the other side of the street were clothing shops, apartments, a bank on the far street corner, and a single restaurant that read ‘Maggie’s Pub and Grill’. Varian licked his lips at the thought of drinking something cold and wet to stave off the blistering heat. He dug his hands in his pockets to check if he had any cash. He still had a fiver leftover from the twenty Wasabi had given him two weeks ago at the mall. 

“Hey Gogo, I’m going to go get a drink, you want anything?” He loudly asked the girl lying under the car.

“Uhhh, a soda would be nice. Maybe some Mr. Pep.” Gogo yelled back at him, never leaving her position or stopping her work. 

“I don’t know if they sell that there, but I’ll ask” and with that he walked away and headed across the street. 

“Just knock on the door and ask Ashley if she has any...” Gogo said distractedly, not noticing that Varian was no longer there. After a moment or two without hearing an answer, Gogo suddenly rolled out from underneath the vehicle. 

“Wait.” She said to no one in particular as she stared up at the sky and began to put together what had just happened.

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

Varian squinted his eyes as he walked into the dark pub. The establishment was empty save for the barkeep at the other end wiping down the counter. This surprised Varian. In his world a place like this would be packed at this time of day, filled with field workers and sheepherders stopping to take their mid-day break. Practically his whole village would be gathered at the local tavern to eat, drink, and share gossip before going back to work. Varian had figured it would be even more crowded here given the larger city and the heat of day. 

He shrugged his shoulders. Oh well, maybe the food here wasn’t all that good. Didn’t matter, all he wanted was a drink. He walked over to the bar. 

“Hi, do you sell any, what was it she asked for,” Varian waved hello at the man on the other side and then cupped his chin in thought as he tried to recall what it was Gogo had wanted. “Pep?” He finished.

The large man didn’t answer him back, only to wordlessly reach under the counter and pull out a can of the soda and set it down. 

“Oh, yes, that’s it. Also I’ll have your darkest ale, please.” 

“I.D.” The man said deadpan. 

“Excuse me?” Varian asked, not sure what the man was requesting. 

“I need to see your officially licensed identification.” The man explained tiredly, as if he had to recite this often. 

“Uh, I have my student I.D. if that’s what you want.” Varian said, confused, as his hand went back into his pocket to dig out his wallet and money.   

The big man gave a heavy sigh and pointed to a sign placed in front of the cash register. ‘In Accordance to Federal Law all Patrons must be 21 or older to purchase alcohol and must show valid I.D.’ It read.

“You need a government issued license or passport, kid.” The barkeep said with annoyance, clearly believing Varian was there to try and pull some scam.

Varian, however, could only stare at the sign in bewilderment, still frozen in place with his hand in his pocket. His mouth hung open in astonishment as he tried to process what was going on. The amount of reliance on forms and identification in this world was odd enough but now there were laws against beer? That was practically all anyone drunk in his world. Coffee, tea, and cocoa were expensive and meant as a treat, and the only drinking water to be had were from the community wells, the river being brackish that close to the sea, and you still had to take time to draw the water. Which you didn’t want to do every time you were thirsty. And while this world did have running water, less expensive hot beverages, and that sugary soda in abundance; he still couldn’t figure out why that would be the cause for preventing anyone from buying an ale, let alone people under such an arbitrary age. 

“But… but why?” He whined in confusion. 

Just then Gogo burst through the door, stormed to up to the front counter, and before Varian could complain to her about this dumb rule, she grabbed him by the ear and proceeded to drag him back outside.

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

It wasn’t until they had made it back across the street did Gogo relinquish her grip on Varian. 

“What were you thinking!” She whirled on him angrily.

Varian only stood there and looked at her, still befuddled and ruefully rubbing his ear where she had pinched it.  

“You’re only sixteen!” She yelled, as if this was the most obvious explanation for her righteous anger.  

“So? You’re only eighteen.” He retorted back. As if she had any right to berate him in such a manner when she was only two years older. 

“I’m an adult,” She explained. “But that’s not the point. You’re a child. You don’t need to be drinking or trying to trick bartenders that you’re older.”

“I’m not a child!” Varian responded, properly angry now himself. “What makes you any different?” 

“I can hold down a job, pay rent, buy groceries, I can vote.” She began to list off what she thought were requirements for adulthood. 

“Sooo can you drink?” Varian interrupted as he pointed back to the bar. 

“Well, no.” She admitted, temporarily tripped up by that question. However, the smug look on Varian’s face renewed her annoyance with him. “You can’t even buy a hamburger without someone’s help.” 

“Just because I’m new to this world, doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.” He said, deeply offended by that last remark. 

“Oh really, and when’s the last time you had to buy your own food, or clothes, or live on your own?” She asked skeptically.

“I’ve been on my own since I was fourteen!” He snapped. 

Then just as suddenly he stiffened with surprise, he hadn’t meant for that to come out. Both he and Gogo stared at each other, herself equally in shock by his revelation. He quickly turned his head away, bit his lower lip, and stuck his hands in his pockets. He just stood there awkwardly unwilling to look her in the eyes.

For Gogo’s part, she felt her heart drop the moment he had said it. What did he mean ‘on his own’? Who’d leave a fourteen year old to fend for themselves? Didn’t he say he had a dad? But before she could ask for some clarity, Varian spoke again. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” He said defensively, “I didn’t know about the alcohol rule. It won’t happen again.” He put his hands up in defeat and then walked away from her and the conversion. Making his way back to the car, he picked up a wrench and began to tighten a socket. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing but anything to keep himself busy and to avoid any more uncomfortable arguments. 

Gogo watched him with increasing worry. She wanted to know more, to help him, but she could tell from his stance and his behavior that he wasn’t willing to talk about it. She knew all about avoiding feelings and bottling up one’s problems. Not that long ago she had been a moody teenager who shoved people away, too. Heck, she still was a moody teenager that shoved people away. Though she had gotten better since she started college. It was amazing how much difference only two years could make. 

Before she had met Tadashi and her other friends, she had been a pretty lonely person. Constantly bullied in grade school and struggling with depression, she was considered the weird emo kid that always sat quietly in the back of the class. However, no matter how bad things had gotten, no matter how many fights she got into at school, nor now many times she cried into her pillow at night, she had always, always had her dad to turn to. Even now she still relied on the man, rushing to him to bare her soul when Tadashi had died, unable to bring herself to talk to anyone else about her recent loss. 

Who did Varian have? She wondered. If his father wasn’t there for him, then who did he turn to for help? Why had he even been left alone? 

Her thoughts were broken when Varian let out a yelp of pain. He had burned his hand on the hot metal and proceeded to stick his fingers in his mouth to suck on the injured digits, still not looking at her, embarrassed by his clumsiness.   

She let out a weary sigh. He was a mess. But so was she, and she didn't know how best to reach him. What would dad do? She thought. Try to get her to open up about a subject that she did enjoy or distract her with a project, she decided. 

"Sooo, Wasabi tells me you want to learn how to drive." Gogo said, changing the subject while she slowly made her way over to stand next to him. 

"Yeah." Varian agreed quietly, keeping his eyes on the engine, still choosing to not look at her. "But because I just moved here I wouldn't be able to get my license for another six months. I'm not sure I'll still be here by then." And with that he ducked back under the hood. 

This didn't sound encouraging to Gogo. If he truly was on his own then what was he going back for? But she knew bringing her doubts up would only push him away further. 

"Well, if you are still here in six months, you'll need a car to drive around in." She suggested instead. 

This grabbed Varian's attention and he finally stopped to look back at her. "Whatd'ya mean?"

"Well it's just, if you want to still learn how cars work, then perhaps we can build one, together. That way if Wasabi helps you get your license then you'll have your own vehicle to ride in." She continued slowly.

"You… you mean it?" Varian hopefully asked. 

"Sure, we can work on it in our free time." She said encouragingly. 

"Yeah? Yeah! That... that’d be great. I'd really like that." Varian agreed. 

He smiled appreciatively at Gogo and she returned it in kind. 

"Of course the first thing you'll need to learn is what socket you need to tighten or not." She gently teased, pointing to the socket he had busied himself with for the past few minutes to no avail. 

"Oh, right." He laughed in embarrassment and finally stopped trying to use the wrench. 

"Here, let me show you how to check the oil." She said and thus the day passed without further incident, just the two of them laughing and bonding over cars.