#i did end up searching the entire island before realizing i had to gift it to someone

[norymal]

would you forgive me if i said i liked clint …

[mommy-imagines]

Pretty Boy - part. 5

Content: Mommy Kink. Sugar Mommy. MILF. Age-Play. Headspace. Diapers. Heavy Fluff.

Words: 3.717

“Mommy, gifts?” Atsumu asked her, voice excited and carrying laughter, “Mommy! Wake up, it’s Christmas!” She felt a gentle finger poking her cheek and slowly opened her eyes, immediately coming face to face with Atsumu’s bright eyes, much too alert for - She chanced a look at her phone, god! Much too alert for seven thirty in the morning.

“Baby, it’s very early, why are you up already?” She asked him, voice carrying sleepiness, arms encircling him and pulling him down and under the covers once more, he pouted at her and it made her laugh.

“Mommy, it’s Christmas, we can’t sleep in! What if Santa came?” He asked her very seriously, her eyes widened at his words and she took a moment to study him. His eyes were bright, alight with childish glee. He had clearly slipped much farther into his headspace than ever before. It made her happy to note it and it couldn’t have happened at a better time.

The previous night they had hosted Christmas Eve dinner for Atsumu’s family, so that was how she had met Atsumu’s mother and his grandmother and, thankfully, they had all gotten along splendidly and by the time that the evening was over, Atsumu was practically glowing. Both from happiness and from the single glass of wine that he had consumed. He hadn’t had anything alcoholic to drink ever since they had gotten together, but she figured that being Christmas and all, she could allow him to indulge a little bit; And she didn’t miss the surprised look that crossed his face once he realized her permission nor did she miss the small grimace that he tried very hard to hide every time that he took a sip.

She had to make a valiant effort to contain her amused laughter, it would appear that her baby was not used to those kind of drinks anymore; By the time that they were done with supper and dessert, his glass was still half full and he claimed to had eaten too much and thus couldn’t stomach anything else when Osamu questioned him about it. Well, Mommy wasn’t complaining. As far as she was concerned, it was better that way.

She blinked back to the present. Atsumu had busied himself by quietly talking to Toulouse and was largely ignoring the rest of the world. With his hair pointing at every direction, his flushed cheeks, and the telltale bulge between his legs, the flaps of his diaper peeking through the hem of his pajamas, he looked like the perfect little boy. It made her smile fondly at him.

He had no practice at all until the third week of January, more than enough time for him to enjoy his headspace for as long as he wanted to, she was curious to see how long it would last for.

Her thoughts strayed back to the nicely wrapped gifts downstairs, all but one waiting underneath the Christmas tree. She could barely wait to see his expression as he received it.

For the past three weeks, all that Atsumu could talk about was of how lonely Toulouse would get whenever Atsumu wasn’t home to keep him company and how much Toulouse would complain to Atsumu every night about being left on his own during the “whole entire day, Mommy!”.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Her baby complained, looking up at her with large hazel eyes and a cute little pout.

“You are?” She gasped, “Why, baby! Mommy is hungry too! How could you tell?” She exaggerated and he giggled in response. Her heart grew three sizes at the sound.

“It’s ‘cause I’m magic!” He proudly informed her and she gasped dramatically.

“No!” She suddenly lowered her voice, leaning forward, closer to his face, as one would do to share a secret, “What kind of magic, baby?”

“Like Aslan, Mommy!” Was the response and her expression was so fond that she was afraid that her face would be forever stuck that way.

They had watched all of the Chronicles of Narnia movies and Atsumu had been obsessed with Aslan from day one, saying how much of a good friend he would be to Toulouse. Now that she stopped to think about it, her baby definitely had a thing for felines. “Well baby, in that case, I can not possibly allow someone so powerful to go through the day without a nice, yummy breakfast, can I?” She tickled his tummy and he giggled.

Atsumu’s eyes turned mischievous, “What kind of breakfast, Mommy? ‘Cause it’s Christmas and I’m strong like Aslan, so it has to be a very special breakfast.” His voice was very serious and she played the part, pretending to be thinking it over.

“Well, how about some special pancakes then?” She looked at him as if proposing a business deal, “With chocolate chips and lots of strawberries?”

Atsumu seemed to be considering her offer before nodding solemnly, “Okay, Mommy;” He said, then his expression turned shy and his cheeks pinkened, he leaned his head up a little bit until his mouth was hovering over her ear, “Mommy, I had an accident.” He whispered and she hugged him tightly, pressing a big kiss to his cheek that made him giggle happily.

“Well, Mommy will change you right up, then we can brush our teeth and go downstairs so Mommy can make us some breakfast,”

“Can we stay in our jammies, Mommy?” He asked, looking up at her, eyes full of innocence.

She surprised herself with how easily she told him yes. Before Atsumu, she would never even consider the idea of going about her day, even if just staying at home, without being properly dressed. She supposed that it couldn’t hurt, they weren’t meeting anyone for the entire day, in fact, there had been a huge blizzard, so all roads were closed. “Of course we can, little one; It’s Christmas, after all,”

So Mommy got up, groaned playfully as she stood, dragging a gleeful giggle from Atsumu; “Lay back down, baby; So Mommy can change you,” She told him with an amused smile when he stood on his knees, crawling to the end of the bed, “What are you doing, little one?” She asked him with a gentle laugh when he surged forward and wrapped his arms around her middle, “What is it, baby?” She asked, hand cupping the back of his neck and cheek pressed against the top of his messy hair.

“Love you, Mommy,” He said, voice full of innocence, as he looked up at her; She felt her eyes prickling with tears, was surprised to feel it, too; She couldn’t remember the last time that she had felt so at peace. Being on the receiving end of such an intense stare, it tugged at her heartstrings. She smiled down at him and pecked his nose, he wrinkled it as a response and she chuckled at him.

“Mommy loves you too, baby;” She finally responded.

They stayed like that for a couple of moments until Atsumu started to wriggle, complaining about his wet diaper, so she arranged him on the bed and changed him, tickling his tummy to make him laugh when he whined at the cold wipes. Once he was properly dressed again, she guided him to the adjoined bathroom so that they both could brush their teeth and then was guiding him out of the room, “Mommy, wait!” He suddenly stopped by the doorway, eyes wide and looking around frantically, she didn’t have the time to become worried, because then he was running back to the bed, searching the covers and walking back to her side with Toulouse firmly held close to his chest.

“All set, darling?” She asked, a smile as fond as it always was when it came to Atsumu. He nodded at her solemnly.

“I’ve told you, Mommy; Toulouse gets lonely when he’s not with me,”

“Well then, baby;” She ruffled his hair and picked his hand, intertwining their fingers and guiding him along the hallway and down the stairs, “Mommy will just have to figure out a way so Toulouse will have a friend, don’t you think?”

Atsumu hummed, as if considering her words very seriously, walking down the steps carefully, one hand firmly held by Mommy and the other holding his friend, “I think so, Mommy; I don’t like it when he’s sad,” He pouted and she couldn’t resist pinching his cheek and pressing a kiss to it.

They got to the main kitchen and Atsumu promptly sat down on one of the stools by the marble island while she brought out the ingredients.

She kept one eye on him at all times, but mostly left him be; As she mixed the batter and cut the strawberries, Atsumu was in his own little world, he had placed Toulouse on top of the island, in front of him, and was telling him a very detailed story about his last horseback riding lesson, something about how much he liked Leia, because the mare never moved fast enough to scare him and how she always let him feed her, “Alright, little one; Why don’t we sit Toulouse on his own stool so we can eat breakfast? We can eat it here, I think; No need to move everything to the breakfast room.”

“Okay, Mommy!” Atsumu told her easily, smiled as bright as the sun, and carefully placed the stuffed jackal on the stool next to him.

She cut his pancakes in small squares and placed a small bowl with strawberries beside the plate. It was the first time that Atsumu had gone so deep in his headspace, the other times were always right before bedtime, mostly when he was nursing after having a particularly long day; She wasn’t exactly sure about how young he felt, but she surmised that it would be changing during the day.

As she sat down in front of him, nursing her cup of coffee, she watched as he picked the squares with the tip of his long fingers, carefully selecting the ones that had the most chocolate chips to it., “Baby, slow down a bit, your food is not going to run away,” She reprimanded him softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I’m sorry, Mommy;” He said, suddenly sheepish, but he was smiling as well, “I’m just excited for the gifts!” He told her, eyes bright but face almost bashful.

“Well, baby,” She started, picking up a cloth napkin and wetting the corner of it and then leaning forward to wipe his chin and the corners of his mouth, “Your gifts aren’t going away either, so there’s no reason to rush, Mommy doesn’t want her baby to choke,”

Atsumu nodded sweetly at her and then his movements turned deliberately slow as he picked the next piece of pancake and she had to stifle a laugh when he missed his mouth, much too busy with telling Toulouse why was it that they were talking about gifts and explaining that today was Christmas day.

They finished breakfast soon after and she was pretty sure that Atsumu had gotten more chocolate sauce on his cheeks and his chin than inside of his mouth, the boy whining and struggling to sit still as she wiped his face and his hands clean.

Once they were done, with the dirty dishes already inside the dishwasher, she extended her hand so that he could grab it and hop down the stool. She grabbed her newly topped coffee cup and guided him to the main living room, where they had placed the biggest Christmas tree.

There was another tree on the entrance hall, delicately decorated with ornate glass baubles, but she liked this one better - If only because the two of them had decorated it together and she smiled fondly at the memory of that day (Atsumu had snuck up behind her and picked her up suddenly, telling her very seriously that Mommy should be the one to place the star).

She looked to the boy at her side and, sure enough, Atsumu was vibrating in place, eyes scanning the truly immense amount of nicely wrapped gifts underneath the Christmas tree. (She was very grateful for the high ceilings of her Estate, because when they went to pick the tree, Atsumu had decided that his favorite tree out of all of the others was a 50ft tree and, honestly, she could never say no to his pleading look, not when he was all bundled up and with his face all pink from the cold, eyes barely peeking through his winter hat.).

She started the fireplace and walked to the corner of the room, coming back with a blanket, which she folded in half and placed on the floor near the tree. The house was warm, thanks to the excellent heating system, and the marble floors were heated as well, but still, she was not allowing her baby to sit directly on the floor.

She sat down on an armchair by his side and pulled her silk robe tighter around her body, “Okay, baby;” She started, smiling down at him. Atsumu’s face was decorated with a bright smile, “Why don’t you start with this one then?” She handed him a rectangular gift with a big purple bow on top.

He nodded happily and reached for the box, she watched as he took his time to unwrap it, carefully undoing the bow and mindful as to not tear the wrapping. Her smile widened as she took in his slack-jawed expression as he saw the contents inside of the box, “Mommy! Thank you!” He jumped forward and gave her a hug, with just enough warning for her to place down her coffee cup on the nearby side table.

Atsumu had been too shy to ask for it, but she had overheard him talking to Bokuto about how cool he thought the new PS5 was, “You are very welcome, baby;” She told him, kissing the top of his blonde hair, “Why don’t you pick the next one?”

So it went, with each unwrapped gift, she found herself with an armful of 6’3’ smiling volleyball setter, she finally gave up on her coffee and just let it be forgotten by her side.

Atsumu gasped with every gift. By the end of it, the large living room was a mess of colorful wrapping and bows and a litany of gifts - the new PS5, a variety of games to go with it (nothing too violent, Atsumu had gone to a boys’ night at Sakusa’s with Bokuto, Osamu and Hinata and they had played something called Resident Evil, the poor boy had had nightmares for almost a month and still couldn’t sleep without a night light); a collection of Nike’s top of the line sneakers that hadn’t been launched yet, but that she had managed to buy because the CEO owed her a couple of favors; a limited edition Rolex; a new laptop and a new phone; some toys and some books.

“Mommy, thank you so much!” He told her, setting his new iPhone to the side and crawling until he was in front of her, he stood on his knees and started playing with her fingers, “Mommy, those were a lot of gifts, didn’t have to buy ‘Tsumu so many gifts,'' His voice was small and his eyes had dimmed a little bit.

That just wouldn’t do, “Baby, Mommy wants to buy you all of the nicest things in the world!” She told him, purposefully making her voice sound over the top so that he would smile at her again.

“But Mommy,” He started and she cut him off. Leaning forward and kissing his forehead, hand smoothing his hair back and away from his face.

“Baby, Mommy will always buy you pretty things, Mommy loves you very much and Mommy loves to spoil you,” She told him, eyes serious and he bit his lower lip, as if pondering her words, before giving a soft sigh and nodding slightly, “Now, little one;” She started once more, “Mommy wants you to sit right there,” She pointed to his previously occupied spot on the dark blue faux-fur blanket on the floor, “And Mommy wants you to close your eyes, no peeking!” She directed and he looked at her questionly before doing as told.

She gave a playful pinch to his padded bottom as he crawled away from her and he squeaked in response, making her laugh, “Mommy will be right back! Eyes closed, remember!”

She laughed at his attempt to contain his enthusiasm and walked out of the room and to her study, quickly retrieving the box that she had set aside and returning to her waiting boy, “Are your eyes closed, little one?”

“Yes, Mommy!” He giggled sweetly.

“Okay then!” She said, placing the large baby blue box in front of him and sitting down once more. “Alright baby, open up,” As soon as she had finished saying the words, his eyes were popping open and instantly zeroed on the box in front of him, he looked up at her in confusion, “Well baby, go on!” She instructed and he tentatively poked the large silver bow on top of the lid.

Atsumu suddenly gasped, “Mommy, it moved!” He looked up at her with wide eyes and she couldn’t contain her laughter at his astonished expression.

“Really?” She gasped right back, voice full of laughter, “Then you better see what’s inside, don’t you think?”

Atsumu bit his lower lip again and hesitantly lifted the lid, as soon as he did, he was gasping wetly and looking up at her with surprised eyes full of tears, his cheeks were flushed pink and his mouth was open slightly in surprise, “Mommy! Is this really for me?” He asked, voice cautiously joyful.

Her tone was gentle as she replied, “Of course it is, baby;”

Atsumu sniffed and then slowly reached his hands inside to pick up the small kitten that was peering up at him with curious eyes, “Pretty!” Atsumu mumbled, the small Ashera kitten almost disappearing where she was being held by his large hands, “Is it a boy or a girl, Mommy?”

“She’s a girl, darling, Mommy was feeling a little bit lonely with so many boys in the house!” She teased him, and Atsumu gave her a cheeky smile, Toulouse placed at his side, “You need to pick a name for her;”

Atsumu tilted his head, studying the small kitten and giggling with delight when she gave him a tiny meow, followed by a small purr as he scratched behind her ears, “I don’t know, Mommy; You choose!” He finally gave up.

“Me, baby?”

“Yes,” He nodded very seriously, “I got to pick Toulouse’s name, ‘cause we’re both boys, now you pick her name, ‘cause you’re both girls!” He rationalized and she indulged him with a fond grin.

“Okay, baby;” She nodded, “I guess that I’ve always liked the name Ophelia,” She said after thinking for a moment, “What do you think?”

Atsumu’s eyes lit up once more, “I love it, Mommy!” He declared and she laughed.

“I’m glad, baby! Mommy will ask the jeweler to put her name on a tag for her collar tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded happily and then promptly ignored her altogether in favor of introducing Ophelia to Toulouse, informing the small kitten that they would be best friends and that she could keep Toulouse company when he was away for practice.

She shook her head in fond amusement, took a sip of her coffee and immediately grimaced at the cold beverage.

/*/

“Are you getting tired, baby?” Mommy asked him once Atsumu yawned for the third time, his eyes were fixed to the TV where Winnie the Pooh was playing. They had just finished having lunch and were back in the main living room.

She had made quick work of discarding the wrapping and organizing Atsumu’s gifts in neat piles. She looked down at the boy resting against her, he looked on the verge of dozing off.

She supposed that he could have his nap in the living room; The sofa had been custom made to be on the larger side and Atsumu looked pretty cozy.

Outside the sky was gray, the blizzard had come back in full force, but Mommy and Atsumu were safe inside their warm home. She had dimmed the lights in the hopes of easing the little boy into a nap and it seemed to be working, the warmth of the fireplace helping her endeavour. While she had made a quick trip to the bedroom to change into proper clothes, she had allowed Atsumu to remain on his pajamas and the combination of messy hair with his flushed cheeks, light blue pacifier bobbing softly between his lips and the top of his recently changed diaper just peeking through over the hem of his pants, he looked absolutely precious. “Mommy,” Atsumu whispered, eyes dropping.

She looked down at him. Her baby had his head pillowed by her legs, Toulouse held closely to his own chest, socked feet tucked underneath him; She smiled softly and reached behind her for the plush faux fur white throw blanket that she had bought especially for her baby, she covered him with the blanket and smoothed his hair away from his face, “Yes, baby?”

Atsumu gave her a soft little sigh in response, giggled sleepily when Ophelia snuggled close to his chest, “Hi, kitty,” He whispered, words slurred from sleep and because of the soother between his lips, “Mommy, stay?” He asked her, drowsy eyes staring up at her with unadulterated trust.

One of his hands was clutching Toulouse and the other he had curled into a loose fist as he gripped her shirt, Ophelia nestled herself on the crook of his neck, “Of course, baby,” She answered him, fingers deftly carding through his soft hair, “Mommy will always stay;” She smiled gently at him, his eyes nearly closing, “You can go to sleep now, little one; Mommy’ll watch over you and Mommy will be right here when you wake up.”

Atsumu sighed softly again, his next words were barely comprehensible, “I know that, Mommy; Lov’you.” He slurred and, before she could answer him, he was already fast asleep.

“Mommy loves you, too.” She said, just in case.

[intangibly-here]

if I'm let go now (i’ll just fade to blue)

xiao x gn!reader

⁃ scenario; 1.7k words ⁃ forest child!reader ⁃ angst ⁃ hurt no comfort

————————————————————

he holds your heart (warm red, steadily beating) in his palms without even knowing.

title from chevy - floating.

————————————————————

your first memory is one of a forest.

the emerald green canopy of draping leaves, the mossy trails dotted with mushrooms. the singing of birds, small sparrows and rounded bluejays, filling the skies. the dry bark pressed against your back, but a small form nestled in the hollow of a tree stump.

you are a child of the forest.

and as a child of the forest, one without origin, one without mortal ties, one that only knows itself and it’s own longing - you know deep inside your soul there is only one thing you’re looking for.

what that thing is, you’re unsure of;

nonetheless,

you must look for it.

and so you pick yourself up and travel.

-

distantly, you know you’ve lived these lives over and over again.

the very first one was as a sand-built traveler of the desert, born encircled by a patch of cacti. in that life, you had searched for an oasis, a single child by your side.

the child spoke of a land where plumes of magic spiraled through the lands, where islands remained suspended in time, hovering over grounds unchanging.

you smiled and patted the child on the head.

upon arriving at the oasis and returning the child to their family, you felt a tug. the tug was not one of great strength and painful efforts, but one of a  gravitational force that exceeded physical abilities of all kinds.

you followed it, retracing your steps back to the ring of cacti.

where everything begins, everything similarly ends.

you crumble and dissolve into golden pools of sand.

-

of the endless trail of lives you’ve lived, most have become inescapably forgotten, merged into a blur that made them indistinguishable from one another.

the most memorable would be the one you’d lived last, as a wisp of a spirit clinging to the shoulder of an ethereal woman.

though in the midst of war, she remained a gentle, kind, innovative soul, always seeking to change for the better.

she was stunning.

and as you watched her live her life out, eventually (inevitably) returning once more to the field of glaze lilies, lain on the flowering plants to drift away, you wondered.

wondered how immortal beings could care so much about loss, when endings were only the relieving path of entering the cycle of reincarnation. the path to wipe clean the slate of life and start anew.

staring at the regal man kneeling by the goddess’ side, silent tears running down his face, you disappear with the wind.

-

as you travel, you slowly realize the world you’ve manifested in is not one of roaring vehicles nor bustling machinery like several before, but of the last one you’d visited, the one of the goddess and the heartbroken man.

you make your way back to the same land, where once stood a ruined fortress now stands a flourishing city. you can see how stalls line the sidewalks, even from where you stand on the cliffs of the outskirts, paved pathing making for a guide towards the entrance of the harbor.

as you’re thinking about how far this city has grown since you last walked the land, you catch sight of a quick-footed figure, alert and patrolling the vast land that is liyue.

this is who you’ve been looking for.

-

at first, it was just an obligatory interest. one that is duty-bound, directed by a play-writer hidden behind the boundaries of the world and tied together by the strings of fate.

then, as the weeks, months, and then years go by, you find yourself watching the little things he does, inadvertently noticing things you wouldn’t have realized without paying even closer attention.

the way that he protects the city both day and night, even when there are hundreds of other adventurers like yourself (a side job you’d picked up where you’d complete commissions whenever you were free) to do that.

the way he lets his short hair flow loose and untamed, the mark on his forehead only drawing out the elegance he exudes.

the way he’s quiet, caring even in the silence when he still suffers. the hope that you can ease his pain, even if only for a moment, with a comfortable silence.

it all makes your mind spiral out of control, your emotions coming undone from the container you had them sealed in.

you wonder what it is.

(you might have an inkling of the answer already.)

-

“today’s your birthday?”

you turn around, brightening slightly at the sight of the adeptus. you could get lost in the mirrors of his eyes if he would let you.

maybe he would let you.

“..something like that.”

you’d only revealed it last year when mrs. goldet had asked. it’s been a few years since you’ve made your way to this inn when you think about it.

he shifts where he stands for a moment, maybe a little nervously, and then presents you with a neatly wrapped gift box. he must’ve taken time with it.

“may i open it?”

he gives you a brief, confirming nod of his head.

when you undo the ribbon and carefully open the lid of the small box, you come to see a finely weaved butterfly of leaves.

you lift your gaze from the tiny creation, and xiao immediately looks to the side.

“take it. it’s an adepti amulet- staves off evil.”

you look at the reddened tips of his ears and the defensive scowl on his face and file it into the archive of your memories.

“thank you, xiao.”

-

“please hand this to xiao.”

you look at the packet the geo archon (zhongli, you learn he’s called) presses into your palms with utmost sincerity.

“it’s... to relieve his pain.”

your eyes soften unconsciously, and you dip your head in silent agreement. now, to look for him.

-

ah, so this is where he was.

your heart aches, the feeling of an overwhelming, all-consuming urge to cry rising up in you.

the wind picks up, tree leaves swaying in the breeze, following the movements of the two figures residing in the hollow of the forest.

a safe place for just the two of them.

you are intruding.

the longer you stand, watching, staring, unable to look away no matter how desperately you wish to, the more your chest throbs, the bone-deep ache of wanting to disappear spreading throughout your body.

the sound of a flute, clear and sweet, floats through the air, slim fingers smoothing over the sides and playing with skill you could never imitate.

the figure you’ve been looking for, upright and powerful and all that you have ever seen (all that he has ever allowed you to see), is relaxed for once. you can see it in the way his shoulders slump, the way his spear is left untouched, rested upright against the trunk of a tree at the edges of the clearing.

you do not belong here.

then, to the sound of the flute, xiao begins to dance. the field of flowers blooms with his gentle, languid movements, petals surrounding him as he flows around the serene space.

it is exactly as he’d described to you once before, that his sweet dream would be to dance in a field of flowers to the sound of a flute.

his dream has become a beautiful reality.

you cannot dream that it would be you he dances with anymore.

as he spins around, a stunning dance that displays his years of experience with agile movement, he turns, takes off his mask, and smiles, the genuine kind that is both awkward due to disuse and tooth-rottingly sweet at the same time. a full blush covers his face warmly.

you should’ve realized long ago whose flute he was imagining.

you blink once, twice, and the tears start to fall, ones you never thought you would cry.

if you could, you would offer your entire being up to him, your heart, these thoughts, these new feelings, on a platter for him to keep, stored away from where anyone could ever reach them. it is not theirs’ to see, only his. it would never be anyone else’s, only his.

(he does not need them, not your heart, nor the medicine.)

the pain in your chest doubles over.

(he does not want them - except it’s only your heart he does not want.)

you understand now what morax had understood hundreds of years ago, where you as an immortal spirit did not.

(he does not want you.)

your gaze tilts upwards from where you stand in the shadows of the greenery, watching the picturesque scene in front of you unfold.

you are a child of the forest, but for once, this forest is not for you.

-

the moment you walk back to the inn, you feel the otherworldly tug.

how convenient.

(oh. you love him.)

it’s to be expected. your time here is up.

you smile at the owner, and maybe she sees something in your eyes because when you hand her the packet (“give this to xiao when he returns, please.”), she nods and says nothing.

(love, love.)

and so you return to your forest, steady footsteps over hills and plains and lakes and rivers. the blue of the sky melts to orange-reds, then to navy-blacks, then back to orange-reds once more, and the cycle repeats over and over and over again.

(lovelovelovelove-)

the moss greets you first, shifting under your feet in semblance of the way his eyes would whenever you met his gaze.

then, it’s the birds, singing slow melodies you know he loves, their clear song a reminder of how he would hum familiar tunes.

finally, it’s the trees, their leaves falling and submerging you softly, like how you would to him with blankets when he fell asleep out on the balcony, tired from the weariness of an immortal life.

you too, are now tired.

for one last time, you sob your heart out, sitting on the forest floor with nothing around you but the animals and plants.

what do you cry for? the birth of these painful feelings? the lack of reciprocation?

(you’re unsure.)

(maybe it is for your unimportant existence.)

you blink your eyes closed for the final time, and your body falls to the ground with a thump.

the butterfly of leaves drifts out of your clutches and fades with a desolate glow.

where everything begins, everything similarly ends.

(may you stay asleep for eternity so you don’t have to remember.)

you disappear.

[castiel-kline]

happy birthday @angelfishofthelord !!!

here’s Cas being Old and talking about dinosaurs to hopefully make you smile <3

---

“Hey, there you are!”

Castiel is tucked in a corner of the library when Dean’s voice startles him out of the book he’s reading. He stands up, a million things that could have gone wrong racing through his imagination at top speed.

“Dean. Is everything alright?”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, no worries. Me, Sam and Jack are gonna watch Jurassic Park. You wanna join us?”

Castiel wrinkles his nose. He’s seen stills from that movie, and those plus the references Dean has made to it over the years make it sound like an inaccuracy-riddled insult to the beautiful creatures he once watched over.

But Cas has never been one to refuse time with his family, so he follows Dean through the bunker’s halls and takes a seat next to Jack on the sofa.

Sam passes him a bowl of popcorn.

“You made it!” he says, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. It’s… nice.

“Of course,” Castiel says, passing the popcorn to Jack’s eager hands and returning the boy’s smile. He’ll enjoy it more than Cas will. He cares much more about the people than the snacks or the film, anyway.

He takes in Sam’s easy smile again, and the calm in Dean’s posture where he stands preparing the DVD. Even Jack looks toward the blank television screen in excited anticipation, despite having learned by now not to trust Dean’s taste in cinema. Jack much preferred getting to explore films on his own, and Castiel was always thrilled to be included in his late night Netflix adventures.

He clears his throat, unsure why he’s so nervous. He does like dinosaurs, after all. “So… you like this movie, right?”

“Hell yeah we do,” Dean says. “Sam and I watched it in theaters when it first came out. He wouldn’t shut up about velociraptors for months.”

“I was ten,” Sam protests, pink creeping across his cheeks. “Besides, it wasn’t even velociraptors. It was... dilophosaurus.” He’d trailed off into a barely audible mumble in his embarrassment, but it was still loud enough for Dean to hear.

“Oh, that’s right!” he laughs, eyes alight with the delighted gleam of a sibling collecting ammunition to tease with. “He’d sit in the library for hours searching for any mention of the damn thing. I always said he’d be better off with a T. Rex obsession like a normal kid, but no-o.”

Castiel leans over, nodding in Sam’s direction. “Well, I think dilophosaurus is a very good choice of favorite dinosaur.”

Sam looks surprised, and Jack, who’d been watching the conversation like a tennis match, looks to Cas directly.

“You know about dinosaurs?”

Castiel frowns, confused. “Yeah, of course I do.”

They’re cut off by Dean, who keeps talking as he’s sitting down on Jack’s other side with the remote control.

“Could’ve sworn we watched this one with you before, Cas. When we found it at that movie rental place in Minnesota, after that ghoul hunt?”

“We would’ve,” says Sam, tone caked in playful bitterness. “But you wanted to get Mars Attacks instead, remember?”

Dean looks a bit sheepish. “Hey, sometimes you need a good B movie after a day of ganking monsters. Today, though, we gotta get the kid another check off the list of Spielberg must-sees, right? Cas, too. We’ve waited long enough as is.”

Castiel has just enough time to hope once more that this movie is of a better quality than many of Dean’s other favorites, and then his thoughts are swept away by the opening sequence lighting up the television.

---

Jack enjoyed the movie immensely. He liked the scares and the way it made his heart beat faster. He liked the way Dr. Grant was so protective of the kids. Most of all, of course, he liked the dinosaurs.

He’d found a book about them the other day when he was cleaning in the library with Sam, and when Dean overheard their conversation he immediately suggested this movie.

Jack thought Cas would be just as interested in dinosaurs as he was, but the angel spent the whole movie with a frown on his face and a furrow between his eyes.

As the brothers stand up, Dean to turn on the lights and Sam to collect the empty snack bowls, Jack nudges Cas’ arm with his elbow.

“Are you okay?”

Cas meets Jack’s gaze with gentle eyes.

“I’m fine. I- I thought that the ending was a bit sad.”

Jack frowns. “How was it sad? Almost everyone got off the island.”

“That’s not…” Cas shakes his head, and takes a moment to compose himself before giving Jack a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me, Jack. It just made me remember when the dinosaurs died.”

Shocked silence falls upon the room like a fog. Jack knows he’s gaping in disbelief, and feels Sam and Dean doing the same.

Cas glances around, taking in everyone’s surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Dude,” Dean says. “Did you… are you…”

“Were you really there when the dinosaurs died?” Sam manages, sounding strained.

Cas answers slowly, eyes narrowed. “Yes? It was very sad, but it was a long time ago. I’ve had time to mourn.”

“But you were there!” Dean repeats, dumbfounded. Cas continues staring.

“Yes, Dean, I was there.”

“I mean, what- what was it like?” Sam asks, wonder in his eyes.

“Well, um. It was hot. And fiery.”

“It was hot and fiery,” Dean says, broken record. “Wow.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you… why is this such a surprise? I thought the dinosaurs’ extinction was common knowledge.”

“Yeah, but talking to someone who saw it is… it’s amazing,” Sam says. If he wasn’t holding the butter-greased popcorn bowls, Jack is sure he would be gesturing every which way. “Why didn’t you tell us about it before?”

Cas blinks. “I didn’t know that you were interested. I thought if you wanted to know, you’d just ask me.”

“Dude. We didn’t know we could ask! I mean, we knew you were older than the pyramids, but the dinosaurs? That’s, what, fifty million years?”

“Sixty-five,” chime Sam and Jack, in unison.

“Wait a minute, how old do you think I am?”

That gives them pause. Jack exchanges hopeless glances with Sam and Dean, the three of them clambering for any exact number in the recesses of their minds. Jack draws a blank, both because Cas doesn’t really talk about his past and because time is a little twisted for him to begin with.

He knows he’s almost two, and that two years is not a long time, but to Jack it feels like forever.

He knows his mother was thirty-nine when she died, and he knows Sam and Dean are hovering somewhere near forty. Cas has lived millions of years, and though Jack can’t quite wrap his mind around that vast length of time, he knows that makes Cas near eternal. Like Jack’s supposed to grow up to be.

Oddly, it’s a comforting thought.

“How old are you?” He asks it to put an end to the silence, and because he’s realized he really wants to know the answer.

Cas hesitates, brow creasing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The first thing I really remember is the tiktaalik, so I suppose that makes me…”

“Holy shit,” Sam breathes. He must know what the tiktaalik is, Jack thinks. He’ll have to ask about it later.

“Three and a half billion. Approximately,” Castiel finishes.

Jack can almost hear Dean’s jaw hit the floor.

“That old, huh?” Dean asks. His voice is strained, and he sounds faint.

“I might be closer to four billion, actually,” Cas muses.

“Okay, whoa,” Sam interjects, before Dean’s brain melts entirely. “That’s… that’s really impressive, Cas.”

“I- really?”

“Yeah, man,” Dean manages. But Cas still doesn’t look convinced, so Jack speaks up.

“You’re prehistoric!” he says. “I think that’s really special.”

Cas takes a long moment to respond, inexplicably looking younger as he processes their praise. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders- like for the first time in eons he feels like the years behind him, drenched in blood and pain and regret as they are, can be a gift rather than a curse.

Sam and Dean clap Castiel on the shoulder and take their leave from the room, the elder brother murmuring something about “antique angels” as they go.

Jack steps closer to Cas, clearing his throat.

“I, um. I found a book about dinosaurs the other day. Dean said that this movie would be educational, but… I was wondering if you could tell me about them? I don’t think I learned very much.”

“I would be happy to.” Cas smiles, reaching out to squeeze Jack’s shoulder. “This film wasn’t very accurate, anyway.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, for one thing, most of those dinosaurs didn’t even live during the same millennium. And they weren’t nearly so lizard-like. They had feathers.”

Jack responds in kind, whispering conspiratorially: “Like birds?”

“Sort of. Come on, I’ll draw some for you.”

Jack follows his father out of the room, smiling from ear to ear. Though the full scope of Castiel’s age remains far beyond his comprehension, Jack thinks it’s incredible. With all those years behind him, it’s no wonder that Cas is such a good parent.

Time is a teacher, and Cas has had a long life in which to learn. He has so much wisdom to share- and it’s not all about the dinosaurs, not because of the things he’s seen or the battles he’s won.

No, Castiel shines brighter than the most beautiful of stars. It’s a brilliance that comes from the inside out, forged through fire and pain and a heart stronger than diamond no matter how many times it’s broken.

Castiel shines with four billion years of love.

[fallen-gravity]

awaken the stars, ‘cause they’re all around you

Stanford Pines never really believed in soulmates.

He can't imagine the idea that there's one person out there for him in the multiverse who would stop at nothing to love him for who he is, despite everything he is and everything he's done. He can't imagine that someone out there is meant for him, someone who will stand by his side until the end of time.

Or maybe he'd just been looking at it from the wrong angle.

Notes: 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @stariousfalls!!!!! I can't believe we've been friends for upwards of five years now?? You've been a huge inspiration of mine from my first day in the gravity falls fandom back in late 2014, and now you're one of my closest friends. I've been spending the last week and a half working on this behind your back, because I wanted to surprise you with a gift I thought you'd love!!

7.5k words of fluff was....not my original plan, but fluff brain wanted to go feral for you, I guess.

Huge, huge shoutout to @ariasofelegance  for helping me keep my mouth shut about this, I absolutely would've internally combusted without your help & support

AO3

Ford never saw the appeal of romantic relationships.

One night when he and Stan were kids, they snuck downstairs in the middle of the night after their parents were asleep to dig through Pa’s “Secret stash” of movies he thought he was good at keeping a secret. They’d thought for sure they’d be coming across bootleg cuts of action movies that were still playing in theaters, or documentaries about how all of the politicians in power were secretly aliens. 

What they actually found was much more…sensual. They were both horrified, to say the least, but each time Ford had to turn away to prevent himself from gagging, he’d hear Stan beside him struggling not to laugh. 

For years, Ford was convinced coming across those tapes before he was old enough to fully comprehend what was happening in them is what had turned him off to relationships altogether. It certainly didn’t help that he was never able to experience romantic relationships firsthand, as every time he tried asking someone out in high school he’d just be laughed at or called a freak.

Though college was another story entirely, his feelings towards romantic relationships never seemed to change. He went out with a girl from his dungeons, dungeons, and more dungeons club for a few weeks, a guy from his advanced physics class for almost two months, and even tried going out with Fiddleford for upwards of nine months, but he never felt that deeper connection with any of them, no matter how much he wanted to feel that connection. 

It’d be forty more years before he learned the term aromantic, but when he was still in college he would brush off his parents’ questions about his relationship status by telling them he was too busy working on his thesis, which technically wasn’t all that far from the truth anyway.

Still, the faint sense of yearning never seemed to leave him be. Whenever he found gaps in his schedule, he would spend hours in his university library reading up on the science of relationships and their place in society. Though he no longer remembers most of the papers he read, one scientific study that’s always stuck with him was a dissertation written entirely on the concept of soulmates.

Everyone has a soulmate, the paper claimed. Though it may be decades until you properly meet, your path always leads to the moment that you and your soulmate are finally united. Once finally together, not a single force on earth can tear you apart. Even if you are apart physically, the stars will always align to bring you together. Weirdest of all, the paper mentioned soulmarks, which were described as “the phenomenon that a person’s very soul is marked with a piece that belongs to their soulmate, which may appear as a physical anomaly on a person’s body, such as an oddly-shaped birthmark”. 

Ford had thought for sure that somebody must’ve moved a romance novel into the sociology section of the library as a joke. The only sort of anomaly he had going for him was his polydactyly, and thinking too much about how that could connect him to a single person who was destined to love him gave him a headache. 

Nowadays, though, Ford tries not to give it much thought. He’s perfectly happy right where he is, watching the sunrise from the deck of the Stan O’ War II through the steam visibly rising from his coffee mug. 

He sighs contently. 

“Mornin’” Stan’s voice sounds beside him, gruff with sleep. When Ford turns to look at him, he’s rubbing at his eyes with one hand while he holds a steaming cup of coffee in his other. He’s already donning one of the sweaters Mabel mailed to him, a deep blue with a tropical island and a treasure chest stitched across the chest.

Ford smirks. “You’re up early” 

Stan cocks an eyebrow as he sips from his coffee. “A’course I am. I always get up early when we’re docking to see the kids”

Ford blinks, the teasing smirk on his face melting into a gentle smile. “That’s today?” 

“Haven’t you checked the calendar lately?” Stan tosses a second handmade sweater at Ford. This one’s the same shade of maroon as his journal covers, and pictures an angry cycloptopus squirting ink towards the bottom left corner of the sweater. “The kids are on spring break. They talked to their parents about letting us have ‘em all week” 

Ford is quick to pull the warm sweater over his head. “All week?” 

He can’t help sounding like a broken record, but it’s been months since the last time he saw the kids face to face. Sure, they talk over video at least once a week, but nothing beats seeing their smiling faces and having them nearly tackle him to the ground in a hug in-person. 

“Heh, you miss em too, Sixer?” 

As little as two years ago, Ford would’ve flinched at the nickname. But Bill is gone for good, and Ford knows that Bill is gone for good, and Stan made a promise to do anything in his power to help him reclaim the nickname. He brings his mug close to his face without taking a sip, allowing himself to take in the warmth in his hands and the steam in his face.

“Not as much as you, clearly” Ford smirks, and Stan crosses his arms over his chest.

“You bet I missed them more than you. I’d been taking care of them all summer before you showed up and fell in love with them in half that time”

Ford smirks as he finishes up his coffee and heads into the navigation room to set their course. “By that logic, wouldn’t that mean that I miss them more, since I had less time with them?”

“Hey!” Stan groans as he follows him into the room. “It does not. It means that you don’t know them like I know them, genius. Everyone knows that it’s all about how much time you’ve spent with a person that determines how close you are with them” 

Ford laughs as he enters the coordinates they need to get to the seaport they were meeting the young twins at. From the looks of it, it’d be three hours before they arrived. 

“Mm, and who put that study together? Was it you?” 

Stan doesn’t reply with words, just a noise that sounds halfway between disgruntled and baffled. It makes Ford laugh even harder, and he wipes at his eyes with a wrist. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Stan’s overdramatic pout melt away until he’s laughing too. 

The sight of it makes the smile on Ford’s face widen. It’d been decades since the two of them were able to just be like this. It’d been so long since the last time Ford heard Stan’s genuine laugh that he’d gone and forgotten what it sounded like altogether. When he was still traveling the multiverse, he searched far and wide for a shred of hope, something to keep his anxieties and nightmares from catching up to him.

What a fool he’d been to ignore his childhood memories of home. 

The trip is a quiet but familiar one. Ford can’t talk much when he’s steering because he needs to be on constant lookout, but Stan remains in the room to talk at him and keep him company anyway. The sun is well over the horizon by the time they reach the seaport, and call it instincts, intuition, or something else entirely, because Ford spots the kids sitting on a bench in the near distance the moment he and Stan step foot onto the dock. 

They’re squished closely together, watching a video on Mabel’s phone. Whether they’re aware of it or not, they’re swaying their legs back and forth underneath the bench in perfect unison. On the ground beside them are their backpacks, overstuffed with so many things that both of them are popping open. 

Most importantly, neither of them have noticed that Ford and Stan are approaching them. 

Ford exchanges an amused glance with Stan, and clears his throat to catch their attention. 

The phone nearly stumbles out of their hands in shock when they look up and meet their eyes.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel squeals, standing to sprint past Ford to knock Stan off of his feet. Ford chuckles at the sight, but not quickly enough to hear Dipper’s “Great Uncle Ford!”, and before he knows it he’s hitting the floor too. The young twins are laughing messes, and stumble over each other as they try to stand to their feet and help their Grunkles up. 

Mabel spits out the hair that stuck to her mouth, and pulls a hair tie seemingly out of thin air to tie her hair up into a ponytail. It’s only now that Ford realizes that she and Dipper are also both wearing sweaters, and if Ford had to guess, it looks like Mabel made both of these sweaters as well. Mabel’s is a galaxy print with actual twinkling stars, and Ford makes a mental note to ask her later what she did to make it glow like that. Dipper’s is also space themed, though his pictures the big dipper splotched across a black night sky with a bright orange meteor shooting through the center.

“You have to tell us about everything you’ve encountered”, Dipper beams, once Stan finishes brushing himself off. 

Stan cocks an eyebrow. “Two years’ worth is a lot to get through, kiddo”

“Exactly!” Mabel beams, turning to pick up her backpack and put it on. “Which is exactly why you can tell us on the way to the hotel!” 

“Hotel?” Ford and Stan ask in unison.

“Surprise?” Dipper giggles. “Our parents rented us a hotel room for the week cause they figured you’d appreciate some time away from the boat” 

“It’ll be like our summer in Gravity Falls all over again!” Mabel grins. “But in reverse! You’re in our territory now” 

Stan laughs. “You’re the boss, kiddo”

“You bet I am!” She beams, and hands Dipper his backpack. “Now c’mon! If you tell us all of the horrors you’ve encountered out at sea, we’ll tell you about all the horrors we’ve encountered in high school!”

“I...think I remember those horrors pretty well already, thank you” Ford smiles sheepishly, adjusting his glasses. “But we’d be more than glad to tell you some of our own stories”

It’s a short walk to the bus stop, but Ford honestly wouldn’t mind if they walked all the way to the hotel on foot if it meant an extra half an hour with the kids. They’re just as eccentric as he remembers, attached at the hip but still wildly different people all on their own. Dipper’s still hanging on to every word he’s saying, and Mabel’s still skipping along like she’s in her own world. 

Once they reach the hotel and check in, Dipper collapses face first onto one of the beds the moment he steps into the room, groaning. 

Stan smiles. “Something bothering you, kiddo?” 

He turns on his side to look Stan in the eye, his face smushing into the pillow. “Mabel didn’t let me get any sleep last night. She insisted on getting to the seaport three whole hours early because she insisted that she had this gut feeling that you guys would have the same idea and we’d magically show up at the same time” 

Mabel pouts, and sits on the bed besides him. “Well it’s not my fault you stayed up late reading that dumb book of yours. Plus, would you rather have kept them waiting for three hours?” 

Dipper removes his hat and places it on the table beside him, exposing just enough of his forehead through his hair to reveal his birthmark. It has the same faint glow to it as Mabel’s sweater, and Ford wonders how the two could possibly reflect off of each other. 

“Their boat has beds and a fully stocked kitchen, Mabel. They can afford to wait. All we had were those strawberry pop tarts that you ate five minutes after we got there”

Ford can’t help but smile softly at their banter. He missed them so, so, much more than he could’ve ever imagined. He’s got half a mind to stow them away on the boat at the end of the week and homeschool them both himself so he never has to be apart from them again.

Apart. The word still feels like a knife twisted into his chest. There’s nothing he regrets more than trying to separate the young twins from each other two summers ago because he’d been so caught up in projecting his own fears onto the pair. He’d tried apologizing to Mabel over the whole ordeal, but she stopped him before he could even start to tell him he had nothing to worry about.

He only wishes he could learn to forgive himself as easily as she did.

“...Can we, Grunkle Ford?”

He blushes. Had he just said all of that out loud?

“Can we...what?” 

“Take the boat out! Not right now, since Dips is being a grumpy-grump and insists on wasting precious time with a nap, but we’ve been talking about it all week”

From across the room, Stan snorts. “Let me get this straight,” he takes his jacket off and hangs it up in the closet. At this point Ford swears his eyes must be playing tricks on him, because Stan’s old burn scar is glowing just as Mabel’s sweater and Dipper’s birthmark are. “All the time you spent groaning and complaining about fishing every time I took you in Gravity Falls, and now you’re asking to go fishing?” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of a joy ride,” Dipper yawns from under the covers. “But if agreeing to go fishing is what gets you to say yes, then sure” 

He’s smirking under the covers, Ford can tell, because he inherited that expression from Stan.

Stan’s about to bite back, but Dipper must not have been exaggerating about how long he and Mabel were waiting for them at the dock, because he’s already out cold. Stan smiles at him, gently ruffling up his hair before he takes a seat on the adjacent bed, kicking his shoes off so he can kick his feet up on the bed and relax. Ford sits beside Stan, and Stan slings his arms behind him to support his head in his hands as he glances over at Ford. 

“They make you wanna retire the whole ‘treasure hunting’ thing and move into the city to be closer to ‘em too?”

Ford chuckles. “I’ve already considered hiding them away on the boat twice today already.” He taps at his chin. “Though I suppose that moving in with them would go over better with their parents then taking them away to live on a boat” 

“Hmm…” Stan taps at his chin as well. “Being stuck in the same stuffy high school for four years, or living on a boat traveling all over the world whenever they feel like it? I dunno about you, Sixer, but I have a pretty good idea on what the kids would prefer”

“Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?” Mabel’s voice suddenly chimes in, and Ford blushes, wondering how much of that she just heard. 

“What’s on your mind, pumpkin?” Stan asks. 

“Well, uh, Dipper was right about us only eating once really early this morning, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to, uh” She twirls her hair between her fingers. “Cook something for us? For old time’s sake?”

Okay, it’s settled, Ford’s never letting these kids go again. 

“Sure, kiddo. Soon as your brother’s up we’ll head right back up, okay?” 

“Okay!” she beams, and crawls back into her side of the bed, staring at Dipper like she can will him into waking up on command. 

Though Ford would’ve been okay if they’d had to wait hours for him, it’s really only about twenty minutes before Dipper opens his eyes again and nearly shrieks in surprise at Mabel’s face hovering three inches from his own. He smacks his hand into her face to shove her away, and she giggles as she rolls off the bed and onto the floor. 

Beside Ford, Stan smirks. “Better get up before we leave without you and all our food goes to Mabel, kiddo. You’ve got plenty of time to crash in Ford’s bed on the ship, since he never seems to use it anyway”

Dipper yawns, rubbing at his eyes as he kicks the covers off. “I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep”

“I didn’t realize you were even capable of sleep, bro-bro” Mabel punches him in the shoulder as she walks past him to put her shoes on. He glares at her wordlessly, and Ford has to cover up his snicker with a fake cough. 

This time, the bus ride and the walk back to the ship are a quiet one. Ford never really lets himself let his guard down and relax for an extended period of the time, so he cherishes any moment he can get where he finally feels like he doesn’t constantly feel the need to check over his shoulder for signs of danger. Most of the time, if you asked him about his heightened senses, he’d call them a curse. But on days like these, when he can hear the birds chirping and the waves smacking gently against the boats in the seaport, he’d almost go as far as calling it a blessing. 

The kids take a seat at the dining table as soon as they enter the kitchen, and Stan grins at them from over his shoulder as he clicks the stove on. “Whaddya say, Stancakes?” 

Dipper and Mabel grimace in unison. “Ewwww, Grunkle Stan, you promised lunch!” Mabel scrunches her nose, and Stan’s grin only widens. 

“Ah, ah, you said like old times. That means I get to decide what to make, and you have to eat it because I’m your legal guardian”.

“Well I wasn’t even awake when you were talking about old times, so I’d say that cancels out” Dipper crosses his arms over his chest, and Ford can’t help but smile warmly at the three of them as he reaches into the cupboard for his favorite coffee mug. The younger twins clearly had just gotten two copies of the same mug, but crossed both of them out so they’d say #1 GRUNKLES on them instead of #1 UNCLE. Stan has the other one, of course, but he keeps it on his bedside to hold small treasures and keepsakes because it’s, in his own words, “Too special to waste on something as ordinary as coffee”.

Ford sits himself in the seat between the younger twins at their okay, and after some back and forth banter between the four of them, they end up settling for burgers. Truth be told, this is the first time Ford’s eaten a meal in a group larger than two since the last time he and Stan visited the young twins in the winter, and he can’t help but smile into his food at the thought. The closest he’d come even remotely close to eating with others in his research years was his very, very brief time at the truck stop diner, and the experience had soured his view of...well, other people for near decades.

Now, though, he’d burn his own research dozens of times over before he’d even consider eating alone.

Stan’s chair scraping across the floor as he stands pops Ford out of his bubble of serenity. 

“Now that that’s taken care of,” Stan cracks his knuckles, smiling mischievously at Dipper and Mabel. “I think I remember a couple of kiddos finally promising their Grunkle Stan he could take them fishing���

“Promise is a strong word-” Dipper starts as he stands to place his plate in the sink, but Stan’s already placing a fishing hat on his head before he can finish his sentence. 

“Course you did! You wanna take our baby for a joyride, you gotta earn it first”

Dipper turns to Ford, like he’s expecting him to back him up.

Ford chuckles. “I don’t know, Dipper. That sounds perfectly reasonable to me”.

Dipper scoffs, sitting back down at the table. Mabel laughs. 

“Aww, C’mon, Dipper! Aren’t you all about the supernatural? For all we know, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford could be harboring magical glowing bait that only attracts, like, magical talking fish men, or something!” 

Dipper raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just receive a bottle message from Mermando last week?”

“Exactly!” Mabel flashes a grin. “That must mean that he’s in the area!”

Stan laughs. “You tellin’ me you only agreed to go fishing so you could kiss and make-up with your long-distance fish boyfriend?”

“Grunkle Stan, what kind of person do you take me for?” she gasps. “He’s married! You know I would never want to break apart such a loving couple!”

Ford’s smile only warms. Where else could he partake in such a conversation that doesn’t turn heads and result in judgmental whispers? Where else can he just be like this, surrounded by loved ones who are just as weird, just as out of the ordinary as himself? In his younger years he thought for sure his place would be among the monsters and cryptids everyone in his childhood made him out to be, but even in the weirdness capital of the country he felt more alone than ever. 

“...Don’t think you’re immune, Sixer” Stan’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and before Ford can ask what he means Stan is smacking a homemade fishing cap on his head. “It may ruin your badass image when we’re monster hunting, or whatever, but we’re fishing with the kids.” Stan gestures to them with his thumb. They’re already outside, leaning over the railing to look out at the water in a perfect mirror of each other.  “If they have to embarrass themselves by humoring me for a few hours, so do you” 

Ford waits for Stan to join the kids outside before he takes his hat off to admire the stitch work. It’s not perfect, and nowhere near the fancy embroidery he and Stan have found in various markets across their world travels. But it’s personalized, and Ford knows it comes from a place in Stan’s mind that’s been stuck behind lock and key since he was seventeen.

Ford runs his hands along each individual letter, which reads POINDEXTER, before placing it back on his head to join the others outside. 

Stan has, miraculously, already pulled out his joke book. Stan’s laughing too hard at his own joke for Ford to really make out what the punchline is, but the younger twins’ collective groans is all he needs to know about it. When Mabel notices him stepping out of the doorway, though, her expression shifts entirely. 

“So…” she draws out, stepping towards him. “Is there a trick for attracting merpeople to your boat? I mean, asides from being super cute, obviously” 

Ford chuckles, taking a glance behind her to make sure that Stan is out of earshot. “Stan’ll kill me if I tell you this, but they’re really attracted towards shiny things. If you tied one of his gold necklaces around a fishing pole and dangled it into the water, the boat’ll be surrounded in minutes” 

Mabel offers up her pinkie finger. “I won’t tell him if you won’t”

Ford interlocks his pinkie with hers, smiling. “I think he’ll notice when a whole family of merpeople show up”

“Hmmm…” Mabel taps at her chin with her free hand, visibly mouthing a plan to herself. “Oh! I know! Come with me,” she beams, and before Ford can even open his mouth to respond she’s already dragging him back into the kitchen. She kneels down on the floor and opens the cupboard below the sink. “Got any empty bottles I can use?”

Ford blinks. “Empty....bottles”

“Yeah!” Mabel pulls a neatly folded piece of paper out of her skirt. “If I can send out my response letter the same time we throw Stan’s necklace over, he’ll never be able to tell the difference!”

“Wait, wait” Ford shakes his head. “You really are dating a merperson?”

“Listening skills, Grunkle Ford” she taps at her forehead, folding the letter back into her pocket as she continues to dig through the cupboards. “Used to date. We met at the Gravity Falls Public Pool, where he was stuck, but then I drove him to the lake in a golf cart I stole from the pool grounds because he really missed his family, and then he was my first kiss, and then we were in a long-distance relationship for like, two months, and I kept every single bottle he sent me, but then we had to break up because he was arranged to marry to prevent a big undersea war.” She picks up a bottle, shakes it, and puts it back when it’s too full for her liking. “I know it sounds, like, super complicated, but it’s all okay, because we’re still pen pals!” 

Ford laughs, shaking his head. “No, Mabel, I had to ask because I, uh…” his cheeks warm, and he clears his throat. “Before I...came to term with my orientation, I...dated a merperson too” 

The bottles in the cupboard rattle as Mabel’s head smacks against the doorframe. She’s rubbing the spot where her head hit, but there are stars in her eyes. “Really?” 

Ford’s cheeks burn even hotter. “Yes,” he whispers, and takes a knee so he can get at her eye level. “Technically he was a siren, but yes, we dated for about a month. He promised me he wouldn’t entice anyone else while we were together, but I guess there wasn’t anything...there.” He turns to help her shuffle through the cupboard, and finds a near-empty bottle of olive oil that’s definitely been sitting down there for at least a year. He hands it off to Mabel, smiling. “I’m glad that things worked out with you, though” 

To his surprise, Mabel drops the bottle and throws her arms around him in a hug. “I can’t wait to introduce you! He’s gonna love you”

Ford huffs a quiet laugh, and pulls her close as he winds his arms around her as well. The hug only lasts for a few brief moments, but it feels to Ford in those moments that time itself had stopped. Mabel stands, taking the bottle in one hand and offering to help Ford up in her other. 

Mabel places the bottle in the sink and turns the water on to rinse it out before she turns back towards Ford, stretching her arms up in the air as if she were warming up for an exercise. “Alright, here’s the plan. You tell me where Grunkle Stan keeps all of his jewelry, and I’ll sneak in and take his necklace while you distract him. Got it?”

Ford smiles. “Got it”.

As Mabel splits away for Stan’s bedroom, Ford heads back out to the deck. Dipper’s leaning over the side of the boat pointing at something jumping out of the water, rambling excitedly to Stan beside him. He’s holding his fishing hat in his hand to stop it from blowing into the water, and his hair is bouncing in the breeze. It’s just enough for the edge of his birthmark to poke through his bangs, and even in broad daylight it seems to be emitting a faint glow.

“I found it!” Mabel cheers, bounding up from behind him. She’s wearing the chain around her neck, and for some reason the gold seems much dimmer in contrast to her sweater. She takes it off and hands it to him. “You wanna do the honors while I go and throw this overboard?”

Ford smiles, ruffling her hair. “Sure thing.” He walks over to where Stan and Dipper are chatting and picks up one of the extra fishing rods. Making sure that Stan’s too engrossed with his conversation to notice, Ford starts wrapping the chain along the line, and at the signal from Mabel, he tosses his line as far from the boat as he can manage.

Five minutes pass before Mabel squeals so loud that Ford’s afraid his glasses might shatter. He reaches for the gun he knows he’s got stashed in his pants pocket, but when he turns to run to her aid she’s leaning halfway over the boat wrapping her arms around a young merman in a tight hug.

“...so good to see you again!” She’s beaming. “I didn’t think you’d be able to find us so quickly!”

“Yes, well, you were easy to track down after we figured out the coordinates to the seaport” the young man says in a thick Spanish accent. “It is good to see you too! My family was so excited to meet you”

“Your family?” she gasps. “Did they all come with you?” 

“Of course!” he grins. “We merpeople are very family oriented. Wherever we go, we go together” 

Ford winces at the uncanny familiarity of the statement. Mabel must recognize the statement too, because she responds with “Oh, that reminds me! There’s someone I want you guys to meet! Wait right here,” she says, and comes bouncing back over to Ford. Taking his hand in her own, she starts to drag him back to where she’d just been leaning. “C’mon! He’s the one I was just talking about!”

Three more merpeople emerge from the water when she gently knocks on the side of the boat again. “Grunkle Ford, this is Mermando!” she grins, gesturing to the young merman she’d just been conversing with. “He’s the one I helped reunite with his family after they were separated by tragic circumstances.” She wraps her arms around Ford in a side-hug. “Mermando, this is my Grunkle Ford! He was also separated from his family by tragic circumstances, but I helped with that too!” 

Mermando laughs. “Even when you think it’s the end, family always finds its way, doesn’t it?”

Ford laughs, shaking his hand. “It always seems that way to me”

“Awwww!” Mabel squeals. “I knew you’d get along!” She grins, and turns her attention back towards Mermando. “Before I forget, though, did you see where Grunkle Ford threw that gold necklace? If I don’t get it back my Grunkle Stan’s gonna kill me”

Mermando laughs again. “I was wondering if that belonged to any of you!” He takes off his shell necklace to reveal that he’d put Stan’s necklace on around his neck. He takes that off, too, and offers it to Ford. “I much prefer this one, anyway” he clicks his shell necklace open, revealing it to be a locket with a picture of his family inside.

Ford takes the gold necklace back, and he means to thank him, but a bell ringing from elsewhere in the port interrupts him before he can open his mouth. Mermando turns to Mabel, taking her hands in his own. “We must go. I’m so sorry we have to leave so soon, but we merpeople recognize the sounds of fishing boats very easily. We’ll try to come back later this week” He opens his arms for her once more, and Mabel wraps his arms around him in a quick hug before she watches him and his family swim away. 

“I am so glad that all you were doing was hugging,” Dipper shudders as he and Stan approach Ford and Mabel. “I’m not sure my stomach could handle witnessing you two kissing a second time” 

“Awww,” Mabel punches him playfully in the shoulder. “You’re just jealous that I had a boyfriend before you did!” 

Dipper cringes. “If you having a boyfriend before I do means I didn’t have to be the one dating a fish, then I’m glad you were the one who got stuck with him first” He punches her back, and gestures at Stan over his shoulder with his thumb. “But anyways, I came over here because Grunkle Stan says he wants to get out on the open water before everyone else gets the idea, or something”.

Ford pockets Stan’s necklace and makes a mental note to put it away sometime later tonight when Stan is too distracted to notice. “Tell Stan I’m going to untie the rope from the edge of the dock, and when he sees me back on board we’re all set to go.”

Nodding, Dipper bounds off towards the navigation room where Stan must be waiting, and Ford steps off of the boat to take care of everything else. On the way to the bow, he traces a hand along the white painted STAN O’ WAR II, and a feeling of warmth sprouts in his chest. Once back on board, he waves to Stan as he passes besides the navigation room once more, and takes a seat on one of the beach chairs they liked to keep aboard. 

Most days, Ford prefers to be the one at the wheel. But every once in a while he just wants to be. All he wants to do is lean back in one of their beach chairs and let the sun warm his face. It’s a good kind of warm, the same way spending time with the kids and heavy rain hitting his bedroom window and planning new escapades with Stan feel warm. After so, so long of only knowing unbearable burns, it feels indescribable to have a constant back in his life that heals, rather than hurts. 

“Mind if we join you?” Dipper asks, and Ford glances over to see both of the young twins dragging a chair behind them.

Speaking of healing constants.

“Sure,” Ford says, and can’t help the warmth spilling through his tone. They pull their chairs up on either side of him, and curl up to enjoy the warm breeze. Dipper places his hat on his lap to let the wind blow through his hair, and Mabel stretches her arms out behind her head to act as her own pillow. Ford chuckles silently at the pair, and closes his eyes to let himself relax.

All is quiet when Stan finally finds them a spot out on the open water without a single other boat in sight. The water is nearly still, save for the occasional small wave that gently sways the boat. The sun is at its afternoon high, turning the water beautiful shades of teal and aqua. Fishing is tedious, but it’s careful work, and gives Ford something to put all of his focus into. Two whole hours pass before any of them catch a thing, and Stan laughs himself to tears when it’s Dipper who pulls up a single sardine. 

Typically Ford prefers much more immersive activities, but right now there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. The sun is starting to set before they realize they aren’t going to have much luck catching anything, and instead decide to take the boat for another ride around the harbor to look for a better place to eventually watch the stars. 

“...Great Uncle Ford?” Dipper approaches him shyly once they’ve anchored the boat.

“Yes?”

He tugs shyly at the edge of his sweater. “I…” he starts. “I know you’ve told me that the multiverse was dangerous, and all, but...was there ever anything you enjoyed about it?” He pauses. “What were the sunsets like?”

Ford chuckles, patting at the seat beside him, and Dipper’s eyes light up as he sits down.

“You’re right,” Ford starts, folding his hands together. “I wouldn’t wish what I went through on even my worst enemies, Dipper. It was practically impossible to get any decent amount of sleep and even harder to find food digestible by human kind. I lost some of my best years to the multiverse when I could’ve gone on to become the most renowned scientist in the world.” Ford turns his gaze away from the sun setting on the horizon to meet Dipper’s eyes, but he’s frowning, eyes cast downwards towards the deck of the ship.

“But,” Ford adds before the poor kid can get too lost in his own head, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It definitely had its perks.” He smiles. “The sun in Dimension 18.2 would emit a sound that mimicked a lullaby every night as it set. Dimension 47’23 had three moons that would shift phases before your very eyes. I haven’t told Mabel because I’m afraid she’ll try activating a portal of her own and run away, but in Dimension 25-12, everyone and everything looks like a watercolor painting. There’s danger in the multiverse, but there’s beauty in equal measure”

“Do you ever miss it?” Dipper fiddles with his hands, like he’s trying real hard not to say the wrong thing. “I mean, I know you don’t miss being lost, or having no idea if you’re ever going to see home again, but...is there any dimension...where you could’ve seen yourself staying, if you thought you couldn’t make it back?” 

Ford shifts in his chair so he doesn’t have to twist his neck so much to look directly at his nephew. “Occasionally,” he muses. “I met the most friendly faces in Dimension 52, so my mind does tend to wander there from time to time” he smiles. “But rest assured, there is something in this dimension that makes it my favorite”

“Oh yeah?” Dipper’s eyes light up. “Over every other dimension you’ve passed through? What is it?”

Ford gently nudges Dipper’s shoulder. “You and your sister”

Dipper’s cheeks turn bright red, and he looks as though he’s struggling not to bury his face into the collar of his sweater and disappear. “Really?” his voice squeaks.

Ford nods. “Everything I had in those other dimensions were fleeting, Dipper. At a moment’s notice everything I grew to love could disappear in the blink of an eye. The very thing happened to me in Dimension 52. When I fell asleep, I woke up in a new dimension I didn’t recognize. Things may have been more advanced, and there may have been dimensions crafted to give you your greatest desires, but in the end nothing ever lasted.” 

Now it’s Ford’s turn to divert Dipper’s eyes, gaze casting towards the floor. “Stan was cut from my life completely in the dimension that claimed to be a perfect world. I had nobody. Even in dimensions that actively worked towards my happiness, I was all alone” Ford shakes his head, and turns his gaze once more out on the horizon. The sun is still touching the horizon, but it’s dipped just low enough that some of the stars are beginning to show in the sky. 

“But...here, at home, everything is consistent. I don’t have to worry about waking up in the morning to find that everyone I love is gone. I can keep everyone in arm’s lengths, even when Stan and I can only communicate with you and your sister over a video call. I’m…” Ford gently squeezes his hands to reassure himself that this is real and now. “...happy. Happier than I’ve been in decades” 

Beside him, Dipper yawns, and when Ford spares a glance over at him he’s smiling at him sleepily.  “We’re really happy you’re here too, Grunkle Ford” he murmurs, and his eyes slip closed. Ford’s cheeks flush pink, and he has to choke back a laugh because that’s one of the first times Dipper’s felt comfortable enough to call him Grunkle. 

Ford stands, so as not to wake Dipper from his nap. A small glance to his right and he catches a glimpse of Stan and Mabel leaning against the side of the boat watching the sunset just outside of earshot of his current conversation with Dipper.

“You finally bore him to sleep with all your nerdy science talk?” Stan asks as he approaches, sparing a glance behind him at Dipper. “Was starting to think that the poor kid would never get a nap in” 

“Yes, well,” Ford smirks. “I’m sure it helped plenty that you bored him to death by taking him fishing first”

Stan gasps in mock offense, and slugs him in the shoulder. “Hey, at least I’m engaging them in something they can actually interact with, unlike your kooky alien stories, or whatever”

Ford can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Bold statement coming from the man who dedicated thirty years of his life rescuing me from said kooky aliens” he says, returning with a punch of his own. Stan opens his mouth to argue back, realizes he has nothing to say, and closes his mouth. The sight of it makes Ford laugh even harder, keeling over and slapping a hand on Stan’s shoulder to support himself. It must be contagious, because it’s not long before Stan is laughing too.

Ford removes his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes, and cleans off the lenses with the edge of his sweater. Once his eyes adjust after he puts them back on, his throat nearly catches in his throat when he glances back out towards the water. He’s just able to catch a shooting star before it disappears over the horizon, and the boat’s just far out enough on the water that there isn’t an ounce of light pollution obscuring the rest of the stars in the sky.  He takes a few steps back so he can look up and admire more of them at once, and if he looks close enough he can see them twinkling. 

Before he can ask the others if they’re seeing the same thing, a bright flash of light coming from somewhere on the boat cuts into his thoughts. He turns, to make sure that none of the lights in any of the rooms are on, but no, they’d turned those off when they’d started fishing. Scratching at his head, he turns to Stan and Mabel to ask if they have any idea where the light is coming from, but that question catches in its throat as quickly as it formulated.

They’re the ones emitting light.

Or, rather, Mabel’s sweater and Stan’s shoulder, approximately where his burn scar should be. Those are emitting light. 

...Surely it must just be the reflection of the starlight on the water, right? That same bright light must have woken Dipper from his nap, yes? 

He turns heel to ask Dipper the same question, but freezes in his tracks before he can take a single step forward. Dipper’s forehead is glowing too, the same way it has since he and Stan docked the boat this morning. 

It...It can’t be, can it?

Gripping his forehead, Ford takes a number of steps backwards until his back hits the wall. Maybe...maybe he just needs to call it a night. He’s been awake since sunrise, maybe his vision is just blurring because he needs to lie down? 

He waves his hands in front of his face, but no, those don’t look any different. He squints, to make sure his hands aren’t shaking, but no, they’re perfectly still.

He squints at Stan and Mabel, just to try and see if his eyes are watering, and-

He gasps. 

Mabel’s sweater, Dipper’s forehead, Stan’s shoulder; they’re not glowing; they’re twinkling like the stars. It was hard to tell in broad daylight, but now that they’re surrounded by a thousand shining stars, the resemblance is unmistakable. 

But...that’s not possible. If he can see them twinkling, but none of them have said anything about it, that could only be if those were…

...soulmarks. 

Ford suddenly feels like he’s going to pass out. 

He slides to the floor.

Is...Is that even possible? Ford thought for sure that study he read years ago was nothing but a joke. Someone...who does everything in their power to bring you two together, no matter the cost? Someone who, even though you may not meet for decades, will feel as though you’ve known each other their entire lives? Someone who will do anything for you, no matter the personal expense?

Someone...someone like Stan, who spent a painstaking thirty years teaching himself quantum physics to rescue someone that anyone else would assume dead? The man who sacrificed his very mind, his very life, so he could be spared physical torture?

Or...someone like Mabel, the first friendly face he saw after emerging from the portal? The one who forgave him so easily after he tried to separate her from her brother? The one who insists on calling him a good person, despite all of those he knows he hurt? 

Or...Dipper? His kindred spirit in all things supernatural? The one who, alongside his sister, sacrificed himself as bait for the most dangerous being in the entire multiverse? Who saw memories of him at his very worst, and apologized to him for snooping?

After everything he’s been through...could things really work out that well in his favor? To not have one soulmate but three, and the guarantee that they’ll never leave, because they’ve already expressed how they love him so? 

There’s a tear streaming down his cheek at the thought, but he’s too distracted by a fourth light suddenly emitting from...himself to really notice.

He spares a cautious glance downward, and notices a pulsing light emerging from his chest in perfect time with his heartbeat. If he looks closely, he notices that the light travels down his arms and ties itself into a translucent bow around his fingers. If he looks closer still, the light looks as though it’s slinking faintly across the deck of the boat and reaching towards the gentle twinkling of Stan and Mabel’s marks.

Ford places a hand to his forehead, throws his head back, and laughs his throat dry, paying no mind to the tears pouring down his face.

[falllingstyles]

Spreading you open is the only way of knowing you

Y/N isn’t quite ready to be with Harry the way he wants, resulting in many nights of unspoken words and sweaty bodies. 

2.5k words // TW: mentions of sex and minor mistreatment (can’t exactly call it abuse but it wasn’t love or an appropriate relationship)

The cacophony of noise from the city below was no match for what had echoed from the walls of Y/N’s flat for the past twenty minutes. She was sure she would be quite embarrassed to see her neighbors the next morning with the noises that were undoubtedly loud enough to be heard through the walls. She was even more embarrassed by the thought of them not even being phased anymore. But her discomfort was worthwhile as they all kept their mouths closed. 

The sight of Harry Styles frequenting her front door was something they saw quite often, and the shock of a massive celebrity leaving out the same door the next morning had worn off over the past few years. Meeting the year of his second to last tour with One Direction, the two had grown close behind closed green room doors and over long phone calls. But it wasn’t until he left the band that Y/N had noticed a change between them. It was quite crazy to think of how that change let them to their position now.

Y/N laid on her bed, basking in the shadow that Harry’s body created, watching his chest rise and fall as he slowly fell back onto the sheets. Taking one last moment to right himself, he ran his hands through his hair, despite it being far too obviously unkempt to pass as simply bedhead. After seeing his hair look so many different ways over the years, his hair after her hands ran through it was easily the best looking, but she’d never admit it.

He looked down at her, finding her stare within seconds as he always did. His eyes had become such a comfort, that it was hard to picture a night without them roaming over her body like they had done for years now.

His smile, ever-present, was different. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, Y/N could tell he was thinking hard. Struggling to find the words he was searching for, Y/N simply ran her hands along his bicep, hoping it would bring him some solace.

“I’ve, uh, got to go to Bath next week to work on something I wrote a little bit ago.”

Y/N perked up. “A song! You’ve written a song!”.

He giggled a bit, “Well it is my job.” The nerves washed over him again, the song he had written wasn't something he really wanted to have to explain to her. The inspiration coming after a difficult night they had spent together while on a break from his first tour. “But, me and some guys found a great studio there and I think it’d be nice to hash it out with them.”

Y/N propped he head up now, closer to Harry’s lips than he thought he could handle. “For a second album?” She whispered, trying to hide her excitement at the possibility.

Trying his best to conceal the truth - behind both the prospect of a second album or the fact that it was entirely thanks to her - but ultimately failing, Harry nodded. Y/N didn’t even bother to cover herself up, leaping from her position under the sheets to straddle Harry, whispering about her excitement.

He lifted her off his torso and more onto his chest, with the anterior motive of not being able to handle another round of her body atop his waist, and basked in her excitement.

“That’s wonderful Harry, I'm so happy for you. How fun! A new album, more pretty suits, more touring.”

“Maybe you’ll come along for more of it this time”. He asked apprehensive, not being able to muster the courage to look into her eyes.

Y/N moved further from his body, letting out a small laugh. “Me?”

“Me?”

It was obviously not the response he was expecting to hear, such was evident in his rapidly falling smile.

“Who else?” He asked slowly.

“A real date?”, she asked.

“Yeah,” He said, his confidence from only a few moments earlier almost completely gone, “At the place Ben was telling us about.”

“That restaurant is always jam-packed with people, I don’t think-”.

“We don’t have to go to that restaurant, there’s a nice trail-”.

“A trail? Harry, I’m not quite sure I could...”

Fumbling over every word made the thoughts race through her head even faster. Not a single cohesive idea was around long enough before the fear of being seen shot it down. The cameras, the fans, the press. She could see the headlines now, ones calling her a slag and a gold digger, the posts making assumptions about her and her relationship with Harry. Comparing her to his past girlfriends, the girls with ultra-slim waists and perfect pouts.

“It’s alright we don’t have to do anything big, I just wanted to-.” He muttered whilst reaching out to caress her thigh. A nervous habit she noticed he had over the past two months since she met him.

“No, we can’t do anything.” She said louder, cutting him off again. Her breathing became heavier, and the feeling of his eyes on her was unbearable.

The ‘anything’ that he was referring to was a broad range, one in which they both were scared to breach the subject of. Admit that they had both thought of some sort of future together, in which all their worries melted away with a simple touch. A future full of late nights and hectic mornings, picking children up from school, eating a big dinner, and asking how their days went. A future that started with a date, and led to many many more.

After a long pause, filled only with the sound of their heavy breaths, he whispered; “You don’t want to go out on a date with me?

“I can’t”, Y/N choked out.

“You don’t want to be with me?” She could see the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“I do, I just can’t”.  Just the same as she couldn’t tell him how deeply in love with him, that every beat of her heart was for him. She loved him, but what came with his heart wasn’t something she could carry.

“Nobody has to know, no one but our friends. I know you don’t like the paparazzi but-“

“What kind of relationship would that be! We just fuck in private and pretend we don’t know each other in public?”

Funnily enough, it was exactly what they ended up doing. When you researched ‘Y/N L/N’ online all that came up was her name and photo from the ‘about us’ page of the production company she worked for, just as she liked it.

If you really looked hard enough in the foreground of a few photos of Harry taken at restaurants or beaches you could spot her, but her face among their sea of friends wasn’t one worth recognizing. Despite Harry saying otherwise. He didn’t often pay attention to the people who called themselves fans of his when they picked apart the photos transpiring from invasive cameras with too bright flashes. But when some would pick up on a glance between the two of them, a grappling of hands, or a stolen smile he couldn’t help but dwell on it. He understood what simply being seen with him brought upon her, but is he too optimistic for thinking she’d ever be willing to endure it for him?

It was easy for Y/N to ignore the fact that their relationship, or whatever it was called, had become exactly what she didn’t want it to be. The moments in which she would look at him and wonder what it is they were doing would end as his lips would be on hers in an instant.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything else to do, they spent a very long time as nothing more than friends and they undoubtedly had fun. Being able to wander the halls of arenas, gorging on expensive foods in restaurant back rooms, and jumping off yachts. Until things became - complicated - they never doubted their friendship. There were no secrets that they hadn’t whispered to each other under the cover of a starry night. Or so they thought.

Y/N couldn’t believe what they had done, not that she could bring herself to fully regret it, but having sex with her best friend for the past three months - even after she turned him down - was something she could never have imagined. She had sat at his kitchen island many times beforehand, but never after having just been underneath him. She watched as he meticulously placed the cheese for his quesadilla at the stove in front of her. He had insisted he make them a small meal after she had mentioned hardly eating much of a dinner.  

Harry had always taken very good care of her, but this was different. He always paid for meals no matter Y/Ns resistance, invited her to parties with his hot shot friends, and gave her gifts she never felt she fully deserved. But this wasn’t something she had ever really had before, this realization being so profound that she told him. He grinned, now focusing on chopping the onions. The sizzling in the pan filled the kitchen, filling the void of silence that Y/N was debating breaking.

“Ryan was never so … gentle with me”.

The sizzling continued, but Harry paused. After Ryan had broken up with Y/N she had spent the proceeding two weeks at his flat watching shitty TV and crying into his shirts.

“Ryan wouldn't have made you a meal…. after?” Harry asked, not daring to breach the subject of what they had just done.

“I mean, sometimes he would but I’m talking about … when we…” Y/N felt like a child, she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say a stupid word. Harry’s head whipped to her, an unrecognizable expression on his face. “He didn’t like … do anything” referring to one of her worst fears “but … sometimes I wasn’t able to tell him to loosen his grip or slow down when I needed him to.”

Harry had done everything she had told him to. When she asked him to change positions, he obliged without a second thought. Telling him where to put his hands, what she liked, and how fast to go. But not only could she feel his consideration with every stroke, but something else as well. Something that they shied away from at every second except for in bed.

He didn’t expect her to laugh at his question, after having spent so many nights hyping himself up to ask it. Trying to remind himself that Y/N was his friend and that he would take a question like that seriously (because she’s always taken his other serious questions with the reaction he’s hoped for in the past). He looked into her eyes, a pair that he thought of in the moments before he fell asleep. She quickly realized the seriousness in his face and moved a bit further across the bed.  Despite not being able to make it far considering the mass of pillows along the edge.

Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but it was obvious at this point, six years into their friendship and three years into whatever it was they were doing now, that there was no point. Not unless she was underneath him could he evoke the reactions he wanted from her. The careless smiles of absolute bliss were like a secret he could only be privy to at night.

“I… I’m sorry Harry, you know that I ca-“

“You can't do what!? Y/N? You can’t…”

Y/N’s suddenly felt every inch of her body that was touching Harry’s, his torso underneath her, her feet at his thighs. Every inch burned. The affection that had just been pouring out of her, both emotionally and physically to both their delights, had suddenly run dry. There was nothing but unsaid words and rumpled sheets now, the passion long gone.

Y/N could never tell if what they had been doing for months was ruining their friendship, or that their friendship ended the second that he leaned in and kissed her that night in New York all those years ago.

Y/N could never understand how someone could ever say that the magic to being in New York City could ever be lost. She had lived in her apartment for a few months now, and it was easy to say that she loved it. A space to herself, if you ignored her three roommates of course. It was only temporary of course, being needed back in London in six months, but there was no way she was going to sit idly by and let those six months slip away.

Making her extra grateful to have Harry come visit. Y/N had fixed the creases on her comforter at least nine times before she received his text telling her he was on her way up. Sprinting past her roommate's doors and into their well-decorated foyer she stood excitedly waiting for him.

The second Harry stepped in before he even got a chance to look around - there was Y/N running toward him -  she had a hard blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that the roommates he had heard plenty about were watching, Harry bent down and kissed her. After several long moments, or it might have been half an hour (or possibly several sunlit days) they broke apart.

The grin that had been on both of their faces only moments before was still plastered on their faces but now covered with cherry red lipstick. Lipstick that Y/N rushed to wipe off Harry’s soft lips as she slowed her breathing to avoid the person attached to the footsteps that were steadily growing louder.

But with each kiss, they communicated just what they couldn’t say out of bed. The words that they could hardly even dare to think, let alone say out loud. So when it came to conversations in the space they usually used for sex, it became difficult. Leading them to one of their two usual answers. Have sex, and if they already did, have sex again, but ultimately to leave and pretend like it hardly ever happened.

So, when Harry watched Y/N slowly crawl off the side of the bed, he could hardly force words to come out. Only being able to push a final “Why can’t you? Y/N? please.”

The tension grew stronger with each article of clothing Y/N put back on. She took her time meticulously fixing the hem of her shorts to ponder his question. Why? Why couldn’t she? But, she was already two steps from the door. Leaving the room that fostered the only space Harry and Y/N would truly allow themselves to be open.

I’ve never written for Harry before so go easy on me please! I really do like this though, it was a lot of fun!

[seeds-and-sins]

That One Woman

Pairing: Pagan Min / Reader

Rating: T (Strong language, violence, sexual undertones)

Description: Pagan Min saves you from the resistance, and you end up becoming his assistant, among other things...

    Day one was like a roller coaster for you. You distinctly remember sipping from a cup of coffee, calmly meditating to yourself, thankful to be alive; when Pagan barged into the dining room and started making demands. The first demands had almost everything to do with what you were wearing...

"Oh Darling, you need to get out of those rags immediately. I don't need my assistant looking like trash. Have you ever heard of perfume? Yes? You need it." He insisted you soak in the bath for a bit, get your hair done, nails painted, you had never felt so feminine before in your life. Of course he arranged everything, had his best designer working on your wardrobe in the meantime. Your king's kindness had no limits it seemed. All the while, he paraded you around and lectured you on taking better care of yourself, "treating yourself" as he worded it. While before you never really had the money to do so, he made every effort to ensure that you knew that whatever you wanted was given to you immediately. After the work was done and you had left your quarters feeling ever so nourished and tender, he put you to work immediately. 

"I need you to schedule a meeting with Paul for three this afternoon..." You followed closely behind him in stride, scribbling his words onto a tiny notepad he had procured for you earlier. "Make sure the kitchen cooks his favorite; steak and mushrooms, grilled onions, that special sauce-I don't fucking know what-with a side of mashed potatoes, broccoli, and biscuits..." You were already out of breath, he was a fast walker. As he spoke it was almost like he had taken you around the entirety of the mansion that was his home, before finally entering his bedroom, where his designer waited patiently for his daily fitting. "Oh, and try everything before it leaves, last time they overcooked the broccoli, and I was not pleased." You gulped, never having ever tasted for someone before, never having ever done anything like this before. In fact, you probably were the most under qualified person for this job and yet he picked you. Why?

"Yes, Sir." He made a noise of acknowledgement as his designer tugged on the sleeves of a bright yellow suit jacket over Pagan's outstretched arms.

"Also, I almost forgot, do check in with Yuma about the security issue we've been having in the west. She promised me a direct report by noon and its already ten, I do not see what's taking her so long."

"Yes, Sir." You waited another moment as he critiqued his appearance in the long sided mirror, posing, cocking his head from side to side, testing the look. You were wondering if he was going to say anything else, and when he didn't, you took that as your sign to leave and complete the tasks he had assigned to you.

"Oh, and dear?" You glanced over your shoulder curiously, he snorted. "Could you also find me a new designer..." His eyes then focused harshly down onto the poor man who had created the suit jacket. Pagan angrily started to rip the thing off, the mustard fabric floating down to the ground as the stitches were yanked out. "I am trying to look like a king, not a fucking banana!"

"Y-Yes, Sir." You stuttered out, exiting the room as swiftly as you could to avoid Pagan's wrath. 

You wondered if the same wrath would ever be afforded to you. However, as time went on, as you soon became accustomed to his temper, his demands, the routines of his nation, he never quite yelled at you. Ever. One time you had made a mistake, the whole time wondering if he would at least make your death quick. At the very most, he sent you off with a light tap on the wrist and a warning, knowing you wouldn't be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. Granted the mistake had everything to do with something as simple as how he liked his coffee, but he had killed people for far less. 

   In fact, what was once a stressful job at first, became plain fun. In the beginning, you didn't really have much of a choice but to become Pagan's assistant, but now you sat across from him, handling all of his important agenda, of your own free will. Not to mention, the gifts, he would surprise you with them almost every other day. You were practically spoiled under his supervision, sometimes even being allowed to sleep in if you had done your job well enough the day before. You didn't know why people hated your king, he was perfect in every way, you would worship the ground he walked upon if he allowed you to. Perhaps you were biased in the sense that if it hadn't been for him, your rags to riches fantasy never would have come true. 

   You had your own room, all brand new clothes, new shoes, all the food you could ever ask for, an entire library that he had dedicated to your hobby of reading, and an office that was the same size as your old shanty. Of course, with all the pearl earrings, luxurious bed spreads, the wonderful view, room service, security at every corner, why would you ever want to bite the hand that fed you? Of course, you would die for Pagan Min, because surely he had given you such a great life in comparison to your previous one, you'd gladly give your life for him. 

   And sometimes you wondered, if that was your only purpose, to make sure his affairs were in order and to make sure his food wasn't poisoned. It made sense, your undying loyalty didn't come cheap it seemed and you hadn't even realized it. These thoughts, these wonders, stemmed from the confusion that began this whole mess. Why did he pick you? A young nobody, he could have easily let you die that day. You were always too afraid to ask him the question though. You didn't want to sound ungrateful in your curiosity. You would sit across the expanse of mahogany wood as he shuffled through important papers and made signatures. Every so often sliding them across the table so you could organize them into the appropriate file.

  It was hard no to stare at him, admire everything that was Min. That fluffy blonde patch of hair that sat on his head, how the strands flickered out in front of his reading glasses. The curve of the collar on his button up, how it lead down to reveal those few undone buttons at the top of his long sleeved shirt. His sleeves rolled up, taut to the crease of his arm, slender fingers sliding between slabs of thin white paper. Every now and again, those fingers would reach up to catch the tip of his tongue, and she would find herself licking her lips with desire, imagining that tongue on her own fingers. 

"Darling?" 

"Yes, Sir?"

"Do you have that paperwork on that shipment from Rook Islands by any chance?" You steadily weeded through the files, carefully removing the proper papers. You stood to step around the table and carry them to him. He didn't lift his head as he held his hand out, accepting the papers in his grasp. You moved to go back to your seat before he stopped you with the continuation of his words. "Volker sent me a letter again, the annoying twat, something about a mistake with the merchandise. You know anything about this?" He finally met your gaze, those glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose as he considered you. You searched your mind for an answer, truly wondering if you had made a mistake, or perhaps you had missed one of Volker's mistakes. You shook your head, twiddling with your thumbs out in front of you. 

"Not that I know of, Sir." 

"Hmmm," He crowned his fingers against his lips, sitting back in his seat, elbows on the armrest. "Well, you might as well have a look for yourself, might jog your memory."

"Of course, Sir." He gestured for you to come to him, sliding his chair back to give you room. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he waved for you keep going.

"You can take a seat, if you will." You felt your breath hitch as you lowered your bottom down onto Pagan's lap. Your whole body engulfed in his warmth as he scooted forward and his arms snaked around your waist to bring forth the paper work again. His chin rested on your shoulder, the embrace extremely close, his strong cologne floating into your nostrils. His finger pointed at the discussed shipment receipts and the letter from Volker. You tried to focus on the words as you skimmed over them in your mind, but Pagan's close proximity to you and the very noticeable lump pressing against your backside was all the more distracting. 

"U-Um..." You cleared your throat, finding yourself leaning back into his chest. He shifted his legs further apart and you couldn't hide the gasp as the hard lump was a lot more accentuated against the curve of your ass in this suddenly all too short pencil skirt.

"Yes, darling?" He whispered huskily into your ear, your entire body feeling overwhelmed by everything Pagan.

"I think everything is in order, Sir." You finally were able to form a coherent sentence surprised at yourself for being capable of doing so. 

"I agree..." You inhaled sharply, his lips barely grazed the spot below your ear drum, along your throat. "I believe you deserve a reward for your hard work, right, my dear?" Yes, a reward, please. You wanted to beg on your knees, beg him for it all. The one thing he never gave you, never gifted you, praised you with. He chuckled, hands suddenly came to your waist and he scooted the chair back again. He forced you to stand with him and then he was gently turning you to face him. "I am sure you must be confused..." And you were, being Pagan's assistant meant that you knew almost everything about his life. One of those things was his overactive sexual exploits, people, men and women alike, were constantly going in and out of his room. "I swing for both teams, Darling, and I have been swinging for you for quite some time." While one hand resided on your waist still, caressing up and down over the fabric of your clothes, the other was now propped on the edge of the table and he came closer. "You must understand, this doesn't have to define our relationship if we don't want it to, but the tension is suffocating. I would like to just finally have my cake and eat it too..." His eyes centered expectantly on you, for a response, when he added. "All of it."

"B-But, S-Sir, I just don't understand." 

"Ask your questions, but my patience is thinning, and..." He almost growled the words that followed, eyes scanning you from head to toe as he pressed his crotch to yours and you gasped. "I might not be able to contain myself much longer."

"Why, me?" You didn't think you could do it, but you did. And this whole journey with Pagan has been a game of figuring out what you could do. Your confidence had surpassed the highest summit in the world, you felt like you could jump into a volcano and still come to tell the tale, like you could fly into space and catch the nearest star. It was all because of Pagan, you owed so much to the man, and all he ever did was give to you.

"You must be joking?" He giggled deeply, like there was some inside joke that you couldn't ever know, but he was going to tell you the joke anyways. "Darling, few know there was only ever one woman for me..." He cupped your cheek, and the other came to sink into the strands of your hair. "Until I met you that is."

Return to Prompts

[deliriousgeek]

She’s the Alpha (Owen Grady x Reader) .7

Masterlist:

Okay! Finally up to date! I’m so excited for chapter 8. Also, if you were expecting Owen and Yn meeting right away, my apologies. Yes this is a Owen x Yn fanfic buttt I really want to set up her position in the story. Don’t worry tho! Owen will be here very soon. So stay tuned! Enjoy <3

p.s. lemme know if you wanna be tagged :)

Chapter 7

My Apologies Ma’am

She couldn't believe her eyes. The monorail zoomed into the main part of the park. The ride started from the docs and passed all the way through a lush green forest, from there it went over a deep blue lake.

A lake?

(Y/n) had opted for a window seat. This way she could take in the gorgeous view of the tropical landscape. To say the island was beautiful would to be an understatement, it was absolutely breathtaking. (Y/n) almost entirely forgot the reason she was here.

You're not here to vacation, you're here to review.

Reprimanding herself (Y/n) pulled out her journal and began writing her discoveries. The park had a promising future. The main theme of the park, dinosaurs, had yet to be seen and visitors would still be enthralled with the landscape that served as a teasing preview of what was yet to come.

A light bustle of conversation filled the monorail once the conductor had announced over the PA system they would be entering the park. On Y/n's lap sat her journal, a gift from her father. (Y/n) tried to jot down the feelings and sights she was absorbing, but was slowly tuning out her thoughts as the PA system spoke.

Claire stood up at the head of the monorail and announced as the monorail went through the refurbished entrance gates. "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to, Jurassic World."

The gates opened and the monorail pushed through. A collective gasp of intrigue was heard through the cabin as the passengers got their first glimpse into the park. The monorail passed over a gorgeous deep blue lake that was said to hold one of the main attractions of the park, the mosasaurus. (Y/n) wrote down in her journal that having the monorail built just outside the mosasaurus exhibit, while being an aesthetically pleasing architect choice, may not have been the most passenger safety option. She also observed that overlooking the mosasaurus lagoon was the hotel and directly under the hotel was a beach. This beach, which was connected to the mosasaurus lagoon, was separated by two fences. Although the fences looked highly durable and built to keep the gigantic reptile from chomping on park goers, it didn't seem like the most viable plan. (Y/n) was sure to mention this to Mr. Masrani once they met.

Nit picking at first sight was not in (Y/n)'s personality, however, after hearing stories of the old unsuccessful park and their death count, she was not willing to over look any details.

The paleontologist side of her began to kick in and she was instantly intrigued by the creature lurking in the depths. How old was it? Was there only one? Did it hunt for itself? How deep was the pool?

Y/n would ask all these questions once she met with Mr. Masrani himself, which would be very soon.

The monorail had come to a slow halt and the passengers were directed off the vehicle into the hotel lobby. Claire was at the head of group announcing the schedule for the day.

"If you'll follow me," She smiled. "Your passes and wrist bands which give you access to the whole park will be in your room. Your rooms will be located on the 25th floor. My assistant Zora will be passing out room keys and numbers." A woman stepped out from behind one of the employee doors with cards in her hand, which she began to pass out accordingly.

Claire spoke again. "Once you receive your keys please feel free to head up to your room for a quick freshen up or roam the park if you wish. The meeting with Mr. Masrani will be held in the Apatosaurus Room in one hour. If you have any questions, I'm all ears." Her sentence ended with a business smile.

Y/n waited her turn for Zora to pass her the room key. After receiving the key and doing a once over of the group, y/n decided it was best to stay away for now and head up to her room.

Upon entering the luxurious hotel room Y/n was greeted with a wonderful view. She was greeted with the nicest scent of a freshly made hotel room which instantly soothed her body from the Isla Nublar heat. Once stepping in the room and shutting the door the AC began working wonders on cooling her heated skin. On top the queen sized bed that sat in the middle of the room laid a tray containing all the necessities for visiting the park. Her luggage was sitting in the corner the room near the entrance onto the veranda. A set of wide, brown-stained, rolling shutter doors blocked off her view from the rest of the park. Noticing the obstruction in her view she promptly set her bag on the bed, slipped off her shoes, and slid the doors open to the balcony.

With a short exhale of breath Y/n was astounded by the grandeur of the island. She could nearly see the entirety of the park. In her direct view the grand, green mountains served as a back drop for everything below. The Innovation Center stood like a beacon in the middle of everything. Leading to the Center was main street, full of shops, restaurants, bars, and things of that nature. To the sides of the street were enclosures, but for what she couldn't see. Observing the enclosures from a far wouldn't help her in determining an opinion on them. Y/n mentally noted that she would have to see those enclosures for herself. They seemed much too small, and Y/n hoped she was very wrong.

Letting her eyes roam over the deep, jungle green of the mountain terrain, Y/n saw a grey, out of place, building. It was nearly the color of rocks and probably could not be seen from the ground level. It was quite a distance away from the park and there were no monorail tracks leading to it. Y/n assumed it had something to do with the operations of the park and wondered if she could have a peak inside. A little digging into the park's business side wouldn't hurt. After all, that's what she was asked to do.

After letting the Costa Rican sun settle into her bones once more Y/n returned to her room, closing the door behind her. She checked her phone for the time and quickly donned herself with one of the passes on the bed and placed everything else in a purse she brought with her. Y/n unloaded only the necessities from her backpack into the purse. Heading to the bathroom of the suite Y/n did a once over in the mirror. Deciding the the humidity of the island was doing her hair no good she took it out of it's current state and redid it into a much more frizz-free style. Before heading out the door she briefly glanced in the mirror then, deeming her appearance business worthy she walked out the door in search of the conference room.

Y/n took the elevator down the lobby in which she asked a receptionist where the Apatosaurus Room was. After being given directions Y/n thanked the woman before heading a lounging area of the lobby. Checking the time again Y/n noted that there wasn't enough time to spare before the meeting to the explore the park. Although, there was time to jot down her first impressions of the it. Sitting down in the lounge area Y/n took her journal out from her purse and began to write.

She didn't write about the interior of the hotel or that there were not mints left on her pillow, but rather on the fact that when looking at the overall view of the park she was not impressed with the size of the enclosures she saw. Concern over powered the beauty of the park, though she did appreciate the island's well landscaped state it was not the reason she came. Concluding her writing with a note that said:

Opinion on enclosures will be revised after further inspection of park.

Y/n closed her journal and stood while placing it back in her purse. While Y/n's vision was occupied by securing her purse, her direction was veered into the path of the man walking opposite of her.  With a general sense of direction, lack of attention to his surroundings, and briskly paced walk, the man did not notice the woman slightly shifting into his path either. His focus was entirely absorbed in the files that he held and getting to his meeting on time. Before either of the two could register the collision, Y/n stumbling backwards until she was on the floor. This caused the man's head to snap up then back down to the woman on the floor.  Other passers by looked as well. The man's mouth moved quicker than his brain and before he knew it he was offering her a hand and an apology.

He helped her off the floor. "My apologies ma'am. I didn't see you there." When his eyes finally met hers he starred with an almost stunned gaze. Maybe it was the impact from their collision or the sincere gleam in her eyes, either way he nearly forgot how to breathe.

"Oh no sir, the fault is mine. I wasn’t looking where I was going." After dusting herself off and actually securing her purse she looked up and offered him a smile. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I'm in a rush." Noticing his lingering stare she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling like a display looked at through a glass.

Recovering from being stunned, he offered her a weak smile of his own. "I was too-” Realizing he was still late he closed the file, “-am too." He nodded his head. "Sorry again for knocking into you, ma’am. "

She nodded and replied swallowing thickly, her throat suddenly parched, "Right, I gotta go too. So sorry for bumping into you, bye." 

"Goodbye ma'am."

Then each walked their separate ways.

Pushing aside the uncomfortable interruption Y/n headed to the meeting. Approaching the halls that led to the conference rooms she began to prepare questions for Mr. Masrani in her head. If there was a time for questions she would be sure to ask them. Seeing a sign that read "Apatosaurus Room: 2:30 Meeting" next to a closed door Y/n made her way to the door, and walked in.

Who's the man? 👀

Lol, see ya next time

@littlegangrel @thebadassbitchqueen

[ladylunasolis]

Zutara Week 2020 - Day 1 “Reunion”

This is my first ever work for Zutara and ATLA - also my first work of any kind in years.  Zutara has always been one of my OTPs and the re-watching the show reminded me how much I love the ship.  We only had so many episodes to see them together...but this fandom keeps them alive.  This is a more Zuko-centric piece, as I really like to wonder about his POV.  Please enjoy “Reunion!”

Rating: G

It has been almost two years after the war had ended. There were some things Zuko had a more challenging time with as new Fire Lord. One was weeding out the Ozai loyalists in his councils. Second was smiling so much. He barely got used to that when he was with the rest of the gang. Of course, he didn’t necessarily need to smile but with the right people, it helped. He was initially a bit rusty with economics but with Iroh’s occasional visits and reading recommendations, Zuko made great progress.

Another area for growth was replying to the numerous gifts and letters he received from dignitaries throughout the world. After one round of answering letters took over an hour in a chair (he insisted he reply himself to make things more personal) he realized he was not quite there yet. Zuko tended to think better while pacing so he employed a transcriber.

As many things were challenging, there were many things Zuko did well. Some of these strengths include memorizing the names of his servants and being able to take into consideration the viewpoints of the needy/working class. He was for the people. He was open to hearing input, though did not hesitate to tell someone when their words were disrespectful. Although he was awkward, kids liked to talk to him.  He was great at international relations.

And he always, always replied to Katara within 2 days - in his own writing.

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of Hakoda, waterbending master, ambassador. The girl who saved his life. Not too long after his coronation ceremony she had left to fix the rest of the world, alongside Avatar Aang. In the months that passed her departure, every time he closed his eyes he would see hers. He would see those deep blue eyes peering down at him, the first thing he would see after Azula’s attack. He remembered how they brimmed with tears. He remembered that not even the blue of Azula’s fire or hell, the blue of Azula’s lighting, could compare to the blue of Katara’s eyes.

He had wanted to say it, wanted to ask her if he was crazy to think there was something there because she felt it too right? A few days had passed after the pomp and circumstance of the coronation.  She was checking to make sure he was healing well, her glowing hands running over his exposed stomach, making his abs contract.

“So...” Katara started off shyly. She had a blush on her cheeks and a small smile, but did not meet his eye. This was it, Zuko thought. This is the moment!

“I think me and Aang are going to give this a shot. I mean this, like, me and him. Together.”  She became very flustered and brought the water back to the bowl, looking to see if any drops had fell though he damn well knew that wasn’t possible. Silence came over the two of them, except for the roaring of Zuko’s heartbeat in his ears.

He was unsure how much time has passed until Katara started to shift and stand up, brushing off invisible lint. “Okay well you’ve healed past anything serious, it’ll just be some pain—.”

“Thank you.” Zuko tied his shirt and stood up as well. He towered over Katara, who was looking down, playing with her hair. Zuko was definitely aware of the pain he would be feeling, now and for a long time coming. But it wasn’t from the agni kai. The next words kind of just came out on their own.

“Are you happy?”

Katara looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, with a small smile. She kept eye contact for a moment, which made Zuko wonder if she was searching for something in his own eyes. Then the moment passed. “I am! I really am.”

Zuko felt the urge to say more, but another thought crossed his mind. Who was he to get in the way of her happiness? He saved her life and almost sacrificed his own, sure, but Aang had done just the same. Aang was a good kid. Aang would protect her. Aang is in love with her... With Zuko, he wasn’t even completely sure yet how he felt - he just knew that he wanted her around. But that wasn’t enough to keep her from love. So Zuko cleared his throat and returned the soft smile, placing a hand on Katara’s shoulder.

“I’m really glad.” And he meant it.

He watched her leave a few days later, after hugging both her and Aang, wishing them both safe travels and letting them know they were welcome any time.  Zuko could distinctly remember standing on the palace steps long after the air bison had disappeared into the horizon.  To distract himself from regrets, he buried himself in work.  It was effective about 90% of the time.  

Zuko would also still see Mai, and though he felt a familiarity for her it wasn’t the same as what he felt for Katara - whatever that was.  He would spend time with Mai when he could, try to get things back to where they were before he left to join the gang, but his mind would wander.  To the argument they had on Ember Island “At least I feel something!”  Or to brilliant blue.  The kisses and touches he shared with Mai paled next to what stirred within him when Katara merely said his name.

Then the letters started arriving.

The letters started a little more than two months after Katara and Aang left. They would come once a month, or two if they were closer. They started off with many “we went to” “we met with” “we did.” After another seven or eight months it was mostly Katara writing about her day and asking about Zuko’s day.

The fruit in the Earth kingdom are great, but I still like the Fire Nation’s better. Especially that one that’s soft and yellow in the middle.  I forgot the name.  But nothing beats sea prunes! You have to try some next time you come here.

Despite Mai’s lack of expression, Zuko knew she was very perceptive.  Try as hard as he could, he wasn’t able to ever give her all of his attention.  If he was honest, he would say he was almost desperate to forget Katara but it wasn’t fair to Mai to use her for that.  Zuko opened his mouth to say something one day and she put a hand up to stop him.

“I get it.  I don’t want to fight about it, but I never want to speak to you again either.”  That stung, because in a way she was pretty much his only friend in the nation, but he knew it must have hurt her worse.  And so he buried himself completely in work and firebending training.

A year after the war ended and peace had begun, a conference was held at the Fire Nation palace.  It was decided the leaders of each nation would come together to encourage international coordination and morale between the nations.  Zuko had fought against those Ozai-loyalists daily to combat the ideals that the Fire Nation was the best of all.  He had advocated diligently to open their eyes to how the other nations work, to be able to learn from them, and to share the Fire Nation’s ways without having to over their land.

Plus, it would be a good chance to see his friends again.

On the day of the Conference of Peace Zuko awoke even earlier than usual and went through some of his firebending forms.  He felt jittery, shaky, alert.  But he was excited.  Him, Zuko, excited!  He was sitting in the conference chamber an hour before the meeting started that day.  It had been too long since he had seen Katara.  Is she taller?  Is her hair done in the same way?  Will she still smile when she sees me?

Then the nerves set in.  Am I taller?  Am I fitting into my royal robes well enough?  Wait, are the royal robes too much?  I know Katara’s not the type to—.  He had to shake his head quickly, before his thoughts ran away with him.  “It doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s with Aang.  So stupid.”

When Sokka came announced as Water Tribe Ambassador, Zuko had to grit his teeth to curb his initial reaction.  Sokka was charming and cheerful as usual.  “What’s up, Fire Lord?  I’m here reppin’ the Water Tribe!”  He wrapped an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and leaned into him.

“H-Hey, Sokka,” Zuko managed.  He cleared his throat.  “It’s great to see you.  Uh where’s Katara?”

“Oh yeah, so right before she was gonna leave I guess almost all of the village got sick with something they haven’t seen before.  Katara had been healing for days but it’s something that needs multiple treatments or something.  Wait, you didn’t get a letter?  Well I guess I got here before the letter since I’ve been traveling closer with Suki.”

At this point they heard the unmistakable groan of an air bison and Aang landed Appa in the square, and from far away they could see his arm up and waving.  Everyone will remember that first conference as one where Fire Lord Zuko was informative, but his expression hardly changed the entire time.  Some would say he was even a little surly.

Zuko caught up with Sokka and Aang and while it was truly great to see them, he couldn’t help but wonder where Katara’s letter was.  As curious as he was about her, he wasn’t going to bombard her brother and her boyfriend for information.  Sure enough, he had found her letter at the end of the second day.

I’m so sorry Zuko, my people need me.  Even though people are recovering it’s taking multiple rounds of healing for each person and I’m the only one who can heal at this pace.  By the time you read this Sokka will probably have told you already.  But I just wanted you to know I really did want to see youand everyone.

The last words seemed to be scribbled together, like she had an afterthought to add  “and everyone” over where she originally placed a period after “you.”  I’m probably just imagining it - the thought flooded Zuko’s mind, but he was able to sit up late and respond.

You’re right, Sokka did get to me first.  But don’t worry, your people come first and I’m wishing them all a quick recovery.  They have a great healer there after all, Master Katara.  Zuko paused, before continuing on.  It would have been great to see you, too.  Hopefully that will happen some time soon.

After the conference, there were no letters for a month or two.  Needless to say, Zuko berated himself.  “Scared her off,” he muttered to himself, throwing a towel into a soiled linen basket.  He had just finished some training, taking his frustration out on himself.  Zuko noted there was a mail delivery and his eyes lit up when he saw the blue water tribe symbol.  He opened it eagerly and skimmed through the long letter.

. . . Anyways, I love being home.  It’s nice to be with family and wear my furs, though I’ve been growing a bit so I may have to get new ones soon!  I’ve been so busy ever since 2 of the kids found out they can waterbend.  Being home does sometimes feel different though.  I guess it just takes a little getting used to for me to be back here because this is the longest I’ve been home or even 1 place since me and Sokka found Aang.  But since Aang and I broke up, I just decided to stay here for a bit.  We’re still friends, probably better friends than girlfriend-boyfriend, but thought that the space would be good.

Zuko stopped.  “Since Aang and I broke up…”  A fire lit within him.  He read it over again in disbelief.  This was his chance!  Finally!  He was going to-!  Zuko shook himself, and ran a hand over his face, eyes skimming the letter over.  “No.  Come on, Zuko, she probably doesn’t want to be jumped on after a break up.  They were together a while.  How long have they been broken up for anyway?”

After some thought, and calming exercises, he picked up a quill.  Zuko wrote out the general greetings and response to the daily activities she had in her letter.  He hesitated and continued on.

I’m sorry to hear about you and Aang but that’s great you two are still friends.  As you know, it doesn’t always end up that way.  I’m sure you two will continue working on making the world a better place.

Zuko grimaced as he read his letter over.  Before he could change his mind, he rolled the scroll up and went to the aviary.

The letters were different from then on.

I was really missing the turtleducks today! I wonder if those babies are all grown up now!  Remember when you first showed them to me?  We had so much fun.

The sunsets here are great, but sometimes I think about the sunsets in the Fire Nation.  They’re completely opposite but still just as beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing all that I can to help people, or if I should be doing more.  I’m doing great work here I know but I’m thinking about traveling again, learning more and bringing that knowledge back home.

Zuko would reply.  He started to confide in her his fears and insecurities, in response to her becoming vulnerable with him too.  

Those turtleduck babies have gotten bigger, but there are always more born every year.  It would be nice to have a picnic by the pond to introduce you to them.

Next time you’re here, you have to see a sunset from my favorite spot.  I’ll take you.  And you’re right, opposites can both be equally great.  Before I got to know you, I never knew water could be so strong and beautiful.

I know how you feel.  Even though I’m seeing changes it can feel like I’m still fighting a battle.  Sometimes I just get tired, but I just have to keep going.  Sometimes broadening our horizons are the best ways to help our people.

The second Conference of Peace was approaching in another two months’ time.  Of course, Zuko had invited Katara to be Water Tribe Ambassador once more and he waited with bated breath for her answer.

Zuko, of course I’ll be there!  I can’t miss it two years in a row.  I actually wanted to let you know, I was thinking of spending time there before the conference.  I’m in the Earth Kingdom right now.  I traveled here since my last letter, thanks to your encouragement!  Since we’ve been talking about the Fire Nation and things I haven’t seen yet, I thought it would be a good chance to do a little bit of that before we have to all talk business.  But if it’s not a good idea, or if you’re too busy, I understand.

Zuko, who had been working on the speed of his replies, replied and sent right after he read her letter.

Of course you’re welcome to come.  I would love to have you here.

Weeks later, Fire Lord Zuko stood on the docks, staring out to sea.  Many citizens were quick to recognize him and Zuko gave each of them a nod of his head or a wave.  He knew this was a little odd, but he didn’t care.  He was finally going to see Katara again.  They had so little time together in person before she had to depart so he didn’t really know what to call his feelings then.  All he knew was he cared enough about her to give his life.  That had not changed with Zuko, but he now knew what he feels for her now.

He saw Katara on deck, leaning on the railing, before she saw him.  Her chestnut hair was partially up, hair loops still in tact.  She was wearing a new blue outfit that matched the tan of her skin.  And her smile when she saw him was brighter than the sun.  He noticed the way she flicked her wrist, and the sudden wave that brought the ship closer even quicker.

She made her way down the dock and Zuko had to remind himself he is the damn Fire Lord, look noble!  But he sure as hell still felt like a teenager despite his age making him an official adult now.  He wanted to run and hug her but was able to control himself enough to take a few steps towards the smiling waterbender.

“Hi Zuko,” Katara said, and her voice was a song to his ears.  Better than any song he ever heard on music night, by far.  She smiled up at him, because even though she had grown a little he had grown a lot.  “It’s been too long.”

And then he looked into those eyes, just as blue and expressive as he remembered them.  They had haunted him in the most tormenting way but now that his eyes were meeting her’s again, all the pain was worth it.

“You’re right, Katara.  It has been.”  And Zuko smiled, the emotions reaching his golden eyes.  His smile was a promise - a promise to show her everything she wanted to see, and that he wasn’t going to take this chance for granted.  Not ever again.

Thank you for reading! 

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 2: Know No Fear

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

Before I get to the chapter here, I just wanted to say that I am so beyond touched by the response this story has received. It’s difficult to respond to various comments on Tumblr due to the nature of side-blogs, but just know that I read every single lovely thing you all had to say, and it touched my heart. This is personal to me, and to know that you are all touched by it means the world. So thank you, and onward we go!

By the time Claire found all the bedding and made the beds, she was practically faint with hunger. The fact that they’d left England at eleven in the morning and arrived here at two in the afternoon had made her forget that it had, in reality, been almost five hours since they’d been served food on the plane; and that had been no real meal. Claire had also managed to unpack some of Faith’s toys and arrange them lovingly on her bed before she decided to look up somewhere to get food. She’d heard quite a fuss over the pizza on Long Island; it was apparently the only place in the entire world that had “real” pizza. She would like to be the judge of that, eventually. There were so many different Italian places it was making her head swim. She decided to let Faith decide what they would eat since Claire couldn’t seem to make up her mind.

Claire knelt on the floor in front of the couch, which was haphazardly placed in the middle of the room at a very inconvenient diagonal. Bloody movers. Faith was humming in contentment, rocking back and forth.

“Faith?” Claire tapped her knee, but she did not look up from the tablet. “Faith.” Claire gently removed the headphones, causing her to groan in protest. “Faith! Listen to Mummy before you get upset.” Faith grabbed the headphones again, but Claire firmly kept her hands on her wrists. “Are you hungry, baby? Do you want food?”

Faith’s tune immediately changed, relenting her grip on the headphones and nodding enthusiastically, humming increasing in pitch and volume.

Claire smiled, chuckling. “I thought so. Here.” She held up the screenshots of menu samplings that she’d collected. “Do you want pizza? Or…” She swiped to the next image. “Spaghetti? Or Chinese food? Or a hamburger?”

Claire allowed Faith to take her phone into her little hands, watching in amusement as Faith scrolled between the four images, eventually handing the phone back to her mother.

“Spaghetti?”

Her humming heightened again, her hands and fingers twitching and twisting with excitement; stimming, the doctors called it. To Claire, it was just Faith being Faith.

“Ask and ye shall receive, little girl.”

Claire sat back on her heels and searched for the restaurant she’d gotten the spaghetti screenshot from. Christ, there were about forty restaurants called “Uncle Joe’s” in a four mile radius. She eventually settled on the closest one that was on DoorDash and ordered spaghetti and meatballs for Faith, her standard when it came to Italian food, and decided on penne alla vodka for herself. Gillian had insisted the Italian food here was better than in England, so she was quite excited to see for herself.

When the order was placed, she looked up at Faith, expecting her to be engrossed in the tablet again, but she was instead staring at her mother quite intently. She slapped a little hand over Claire’s screen and gave a little grunt.

Claire smiled knowingly. “Spaghetti won’t be here for another thirty minutes, darling. You have to be patient.”

She grunted in defiance, slapping the screen again.

“Hey. Be gentle.” Claire grabbed Faith’s wrist and looked her firmly in the eye. “Do not hit.” Claire unconsciously ran her tongue over the cut on her lip she’d been gifted with this morning.

Claire suddenly had a perfect idea to pass the time; that dance party she’d thought about a few hours ago. Claire smiled to herself and clicked onto Spotify, hitting shuffle on the Disney playlist. Faith’s stubborn demeanor immediately changed when the opening notes of “Under the Sea” began to play. Her face melted into that absent half-smile that Claire had grown accustomed to, and she began swaying back and forth on the couch.

Claire giggled and took Faith’s hands, pushing them back and forth, side-to-side in time with the music. Her grin widened, and she began humming with excitement again. It wasn’t long before the tablet and the headphones were forgotten on the couch, and the two of them were jumping and dancing around the living room, haphazardly avoiding the piles of boxes. Claire couldn’t explain it: Faith’s Disney obsession. She became a different kid when she watched a Disney movie, or listened to the music. Her entire countenance changed. If Claire could throw away every responsibility and every pound she owned to take up permanent residence in Disney World, just so that her daughter would always be this happy and carefree, she would do it in a heartbeat.

In the middle of Claire’s intense performance of “I’ll Make a Man Out of You,” Faith giggling madly and jumping up and down to encourage her mother, the doorbell rang. Claire almost jumped out of her skin and then she laughed, pausing the music.

“Spaghetti is here, lovie!”

Faith clapped her hands and hummed again as Claire shuffled around boxes to the door. She gratefully accepted the hot bag of food, mouth watering at the smell of it. She hadn’t realized how damned hungry she’d been. She inwardly panicked for a moment, realizing she hadn't at all bothered to unpack any silverware, but was relieved to find there was plastic cutlery in the bag. She made a mental note to put them in the sink when they were done instead of throwing them out in case they needed them before she found the motivation to unpack the kitchen boxes.

“Alright, Faithie! First meal in our new home! How’s that?” She, of course, didn’t answer, just kept on with her humming and hand twitching while Claire unpacked their meals. “This is so exciting, darling. Mummy is so happy to be here with you.” She kissed Faith’s forehead as she tucked a napkin into her shirt.

Claire had often caught Frank rolling her eyes at her when she spoke to Faith like this.

“She can’t bloody understand you. Why do you bother?”

Claire’s face turned beet-red with rage. “Just because she can’t talk doesn’t mean she can’t understand.”

To Frank, their daughter was dumb, as well as mute. He could not comprehend that she was a little person, despite her quirks.

No. Not our daughter. Not his.

So, Claire talked to her, despite knowing she’d never talk back, despite not knowing if she ever fully understood what she was saying. Claire knew well enough that the sound of her voice was soothing to her daughter, and that was enough of a reason to talk. And as far as she could tell, she understood quite a bit. Not as much as Claire wished, but enough.

The steaming tins of pasta were opened and Faith dug right in, moaning in pain and dropping her fork into the tin.

“Be careful! It’s hot, darling. You have to blow, remember?” Claire took a forkful of penne and blew on it lightly before putting it in her mouth. “See?”

Faith took a new forkful and heaved an enormous breath before blowing with all her strength, sending a veritable spray of tomato sauce all over the table. Perhaps Claire should have admonished her, told her to be more gentle, but she could not think over how loud she’d burst out laughing. Quite pleased with herself, Faith stuffed the entire forkful of spaghetti into her mouth, humming and bouncing as she did. If Claire was seeing correctly, it looked like she was smirking.

Doesn’t understand, indeed!

Christ…how could anyone not see how special she was?

Eventually, Claire had to inform her daughter that she was, in fact, blowing too hard, and so the rest of the meal proceeded in a slightly less messy manner. When Faith had apparently had enough, she unceremoniously ripped her napkin off and slid out of the chair, disappearing from the kitchen.

“Faith! Come back, please.”

She, of course, did not.

Claire sighed, setting down her fork despite not being quite full yet. She got up to see what she was up to, but paused upon hearing the music start up again. Faith quickly scampered back into the kitchen, Donny Osmond’s voice getting more clear with every step. Claire laughed again.

“Ah, missing the music were we?”

Faith began swaying back and forth again.

“Would you mind if I finished eating, then?” Claire sat back down, and Faith continued bobbing. “Why don’t you dance for me while I eat, hm?”

She didn’t need to tell her twice.

Faith had the choreography from the film memorized, of course, and it was the same for every song thereafter. Claire paused her eating to give hearty applause and many a “Brava!” after each song. If Claire listened closely enough, she could hear Faith’s buzzing hum morph into something that almost resembled the melody of the song that was playing, and it made her heart soar. She’d read online dozens of stories of children with autism that were completely nonverbal, but then all of a sudden they would sing entire songs word for word flawlessly. She prayed the same would hold true for her little princess someday.

Perhaps music therapy would get that out of her.

Jesus H. Christ, one thing at a time, Beauchamp.

After dinner was ended and the leftovers were sufficiently tucked away in the fridge (and the plastic cutlery was put in the sink), Claire followed Faith into the living room and was overwhelmed by the pile of boxes. She exhaled through puffed cheeks, anxiety crawling its way into the pit of her stomach.

“Faith,” Claire said, suddenly having an idea. “Would you like to sleep with Mummy tonight?”

She hummed, bounced and clapped.

“Lovely.” Claire smiled. “Let’s go look at your room first, hm? Because sleeping with Mummy will not be a permanent arrangement.”

She took Faith’s hand and led her into the room, where Faith promptly flung herself onto the bed and scooped all of the stuffed animals into her little arms. Claire broke into an enormous grin.

“I’ll bet you missed them very much,” she said. “And they missed you, too.”

Her very favorite, a very worn out Sorcerer Mickey, had, of course, remained with them and gone in her carry on. But the others--the Minnie’s, the other Mickey’s, the teddy bears, the plush baby dolls--had been packed away and shipped here a few weeks ago.

“This is your room now, lovie. You’ll sleep here tomorrow, and every night after that. But tonight is a special night. Yes?”

Claire outstretched her hand, gesturing for them to head across the hall into her own room, and Faith responded by scooping every stuffed animal into her arms and waddling out past Claire. Claire chuckled breathily through her nose and followed her into her own bedroom. She breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, this room, sparse as it was for now, was at least empty of all boxes. Faith plopped her little friends onto the bed and scrambled up.

“Ah-ah, PJ’s first, little girl.” Claire scooped her off the bed. “We’ll not be spending our first night in this bed in dirty airport clothes.” Claire dug through one of the suitcases for a fresh pair of pajamas for herself and Faith. If Claire really wanted them to be clean, she would have insisted on a shower for both of them (ever since Frank had left, Claire had always taken Faith into the shower with her; she didn’t want to leave her alone for that long). But she was far too exhausted, even if it was only six o’clock on the Eastern Seaboard. She was in no mood to fight with Faith to get clean after the day they’d had.

When they were both properly accoutered for bed, Claire scooped her up again and deposited her in bed. She retrieved the tablet from the couch, trying her best to narrow her vision to avoid seeing the Box Everest in her living room. She wondered when the hell she’d feel like tackling all that…

For now, she settled next to Faith in bed, laying on about four stuffed animals in the process, much to her daughters dismay given the loud moan Faith uttered.

“Well, I’m sorry! They’re quite the bed hogs, darling.” Claire pulled the toys out from underneath her and pushed them closer to Faith. “Now, what shall we watch tonight?”

Their collection of DVDs was far grander than the few movies that they had on digital download on the tablet, but the thought of finding them, then the DVD player, and then sitting in that room with the rest of the boxes made Claire nauseous. So their pickings would be slim tonight. Not that Faith minded in the least.

Claire half expected her to put Frozen on for the third time today, but she instead settled on The Little Mermaid. Claire smiled warmly.

“This was my favorite when I was your age, baby. I remember seeing it in theaters. Ariel was my Elsa back then.”

She allowed Faith to hold the tablet, of course, and she snuggled into her, gathering her tiny body into her arms as the movie’s opening chords began. Despite how rowdy their dinner had been, Claire had a feeling that she would not at all be fighting sleep tonight. They’d been awake a hell of a lot longer than it seemed they were, and the meltdowns of the day were enough to wear even Faith out.

Not shockingly, she was out like a light before they even got to “Part of Your World,” which disappointed Claire just a bit; she’d been looking forward to hearing Faith hum along.

Gently and oh-so-carefully, Claire pried the tablet from her sleeping hands and shut it off, setting it on the nightstand to her left. She adjusted Faith’s little body so she was properly lying down before getting up to turn the light off. Claire smoothed her unruly curls before bending down to press a kiss to her temple as she settled under the covers beside her. Again, she laid atop of several stuffed animals. Chuckling to herself, she picked them up and gingerly put them on the nightstand with the tablet.

As Claire’s head hit the pillow, she began running down the mental list of things she had to do tomorrow. Breakfast, then call an Uber to get to the dealership — shit, what the hell were they going to have for breakfast? Leftover pasta?

Scratch that. Call the Uber right away, get to a diner or somewhere else for breakfast. Faith will be quite excited to have chocolate chip pancakes. That thought made Claire smile. Then get a second Uber to take them from the diner to the dealership. Put that new Instacart to use and order some groceries so that they didn’t have to go to the diner every morning for the rest of their lives. Claire had shopped online for a car to lease when they arrived, and if everything went smoothly at the dealership, she’d be driving home in it tomorrow.

She also made a note to stop somewhere for a new SIM card and to cancel her international phone plan and start up a local plan. The thought of having an American phone number seemed strange, but also comforting. Not only did it seem to be the last step in finalizing her new permanent residence in the States, but it was also a comfort to know that Frank would never be able to contact her again.

Shit. 

She didn’t plug in her phone.

Groaning in annoyance, Claire peeled herself from her daughter’s side and out of bed to rifle through her purse for her charger. When did I get so damned scatterbrained…?

Well, that was a dumb question.

The world had come crashing down on her the day Frank told her he was through. Everything seemed to spiral out of control in that moment, and every single thing she had done since then had been an attempt to regain that control. It worked, for the most part, but she still felt like she was losing brain cells by the second since he’d dropped the bomb on her.

Faith was having a meltdown. It wasn’t necessarily one of her worst ones, but it wasn’t a walk in the park, either. Needless to say, things could have been better. Nothing in particular had set her off as far as Claire could tell, and Claire was beside herself trying to get it out of her.

“What’s wrong, baby? I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong…are you hurt? Hungry?” She felt her head for a fever, but came up negative. “Faith, darling, what’s wrong?”

“For fuck’s sake, Claire! She isn’t going to answer!” Frank slammed a hand on the kitchen table.

Faith shrieked and clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes wide with terror.

“Frank! Don’t do that!” Claire’s voice hitched. “Shh…it’s alright baby, Mummy is here…” She cupped Faith’s face in her hands as her daughter carried on, hands still firmly pressed into her ears.

“You know she can’t handle loud noises, Frank.” Claire tried to keep her voice level and quiet, not wanting to upset her further.

“She can’t handle anything Claire! That’s precisely the issue!”

“Do not raise your voice.” Claire was losing patience. “You’re making it worse.”

“Everything makes it worse! And what is it? What did it this time?”

“It is autism, Frank. You bloody well know that.”

“Christ, I know! I hear the word hundreds of times a day!”

“Oh, for God’s sake…” Claire’s face became hot with anger. “You have been nothing but difficult since her diagnosis, Frank. I feel like I’m doing this all alone! Why can’t you set aside your personal feelings for her? She’s your flesh and blood! How can you talk about her like this?”

Frank shook his head. “No flesh and blood of mine would turn out like that.”

Claire felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “What are you saying…?”

“I don’t…want this, Claire. I can’t do it anymore.”

“You can’t…You can’t do it? You haven’t done a bloody thing!” Her voice was near to shouting now, and Faith looked like her head was about to explode from the sheer force with which she was squeezing her ears.

“If you want to be burdened with someone like her for the rest of your life, be my guest. I’m through.”

“So that’s it then? You’re walking out on five years of marriage?” Claire stood up, leaving Faith in the kitchen and following him to the front door. “On your four-year-old daughter?”

He turned and gave her a grave, disgusting look as he opened the door. “That is not my daughter.”

Claire found her eyes welling up with tears again, as they had nearly every night since. And for perhaps the thousandth time she asked herself: How could she have been so wrong about somebody? How could she have married someone that would be so despicable towards his own child?

And for perhaps the millionth time, she silently vowed that she would do anything and everything for her daughter. God, she would walk through fire for her. She practically did. She vowed to be everything Faith needed, to fill the empty position of father, to devote every breath and every beat of her heart to raising her with love and patience. Every time she was harsh with her, and simultaneously every time she relented to her to avoid a meltdown, she felt like she was doing it all wrong. She could’ve been more patient, she could have reasoned with her instead of giving in…

But the truth was, every day was unpredictable, and no two situations were the same.

I’m doing the best I bloody can. And I always will, baby.

Luckily, her residence didn't start for another two weeks, so she and Faith could get settled, and Faith could get to know Mrs. Lickett before she had to watch her full time. The thought left knots in her stomach and a hard lump in her throat. Finding a sitter in Oxfordshire with the right qualifications had been a nightmare, and Claire had almost up and quit medical school because of it. Thank God she didn’t. Mrs. Lickett seemed more than qualified, however; it was just a matter of whether or not Faith would allow her to…well…exist in this apartment at all.

Claire absently rolled over to check the time on her phone, and she groaned audibly. 9:02. She’d been lying awake, mind racing, for nearly three hours. That was another thing she hadn’t managed to recover: a quiet enough mind to allow her to sleep. Sighing deeply, she gathered Faith’s sleeping little body into her arms, burying her face in her curls, breathing her in.

We’ve got another long day ahead of us, lovie. If you wouldn’t mind sharing some of that strength of yours, I’d quite appreciate it.

The truth is plain to see, Faith. You were sent to rescue me.

[lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr]

Doubts

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fantasy, Pirate AU, magic, time travel, romance

Warnings: none

Rating: General

Word Count: 2.2K

Synopsis: Jungkook finds himself alone in a new time with too many questions left unanswered and no way home.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who’s been reading this new series! I do plan to update once a week if I can. If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, let me know💜 Otherwise, all parts will be posted under the #In Another Life - AU for easy finding and of course they’ll all be posted under the masterlist. Happy reading!

Masterlist

From the moment he awoke on the pier, alone and unfamiliar with his new terrain, Jungkook knew something was amiss. Aoi was not with him. He struggled to control his fear as he fought to navigate this new world. The only thing which told him this was his ocean was the familiar island cliffs just off the coast. Nothing else remained the same. The cobblestone streets had been replaced with a rough, black substance. He saw no horses as it seemed everyone in this town had become wealthy enough to own an automobile of their own. Buildings twice the size of any he’d ever seen, towered over the crowded streets. 

Navigation was more than challenging. It only took one mistake of stepping out onto the street without first glancing in either direction for Jungkook to realize the dangers this new time possessed. The people here were far less friendly than those he’d met along his journeys in years past. He could not allow Aoi to navigate this horrifying new world on her own.

Jungkook spent every waking moment searching for her. With each passing day he’d become more frustrated. No one had seen her. No one seemed to know who she was. The sorceress had tricked him. He never should have allowed her to take Aoi. 

That had been three years ago. The life he’d built for himself in this new time was hardly anything to be proud of. With no gift to his name, he was cast out by the rest of the people. He’d been deemed an outcast. 

“Are you even listening?”

Jungkook shook himself from his own mind, blinking over to the man in front of his bike, securing a new headlight in place. Jae bore a remarkable resemblance to his quartermaster, Yoongi. He resembled that of a cat with his soft features and feline eyes. Jae was a bit shorter and his hair a striking blonde, but those remained the only differences. 

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Jae sighed, standing up straight and wiping the grease from his hands. “You’re head’s all over the place today. Is everything alright?”

Jungkook leaned heavily across the seat of his bike, the wrench twirling lazily around his fingers. Of course nothing was alright. Today marked three years since he’d been sent to this cursed time and he still had no leads as to where Aoi may be. Three years she’d been on her own. He had no way of knowing if she was even still alive. He’d managed to fail her yet again. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Liar,” Jae gave him a pointed look, “you’re thinking about her again.”

Jungkook threw the wrench into the toolbox and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. It’s been three years. Rawena sent me here for the sole purpose of protecting Aoi, so where is she? How am I meant to know whether she’s even still alive? What if bringing her here didn’t work? I left my men to fend for themselves and yet I can’t even do the job I was sent here to do. Tell me, why do I keep thinking I can save her when I have no magic of my own?”

“Look,” Jae smacked the end of his rag against Jungkook’s cheek, leaving a smear of grease across his skin, “I know you come from a different time, but you’ve got to realize Aoi is perfectly capable of saving herself. Would she really want you sitting around blaming yourself for something that’s out of your control? You did what you felt was needed to save her life. If she’s anything like you say she is, she would have done the same for you. Now stop whining and turn the bike on. We need to have this thing up and running before Akira comes for you again.”

With a small smile, Jungkook did as he was told. Much like Yoongi, Jae never hesitated to put Jungkook in his place. He spoke the truth plainly, unlike others who would talk in circles for hours before finally saying what they mean.

Jae had given Jungkook his first bike the very day they met. It had not taken Jungkook long to learn that, if he were going to find Aoi, he would need some form of transportation. However, transportation was not easily obtained. Money was needed as an exchange. Something of which he had none. Yet finding work of any sort was next to impossible without some sort of magical skill. He’d nearly given up hope, resorting to his own methods of obtaining a vehicle. Methods which would surely land him in the prodigious prisons. Despite it all, Jungkook deemed it a necessary risk. 

Luckily, the car he’d attempted to procure had belonged to Jae, a young man just a few years younger than Jungkook. With ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie which hid his tiny frame, Jae did not resemble the rest of the people from his time. Instead of reprimanding Jungkook for his actions, he offered to help. Jae found Jungkook only a week after arriving in this new world and he’d taken the lost boy under his wing, never once questioning his story. 

He taught Jungkook the ways of his world and had provided him with work inside the mechanic shop his uncle owned. Whether Jae had truly believed Jungkook’s story at first, he wasn’t sure but he was glad for the boy’s kindness. For Jungkook may not have been able to find Aoi, but it had not taken Akira long to find him. Just as he had been in Jungkook’s own time, Akira was bent on destroying him in this world as well. Having met Jae was one of the few reasons Jungkook managed to survive this long. 

“Have you figured out why he wants to kill you so badly?” Jae called over the sound of the engine. 

Jungkook shook his head in defeat. Two days ago, Akira had attempted to run Jungkook off the road, wrecking his bike in the process. Jae had been quick to volunteer his help to fix it. “Not a clue.”

“Well, did you do anything way back in your time that may have made him hate you so much?”

“You mean besides kidnapping and dating his daughter?”

Jae poked his head up from beside the bike and grinned, “Yeah, besides that.”

Jungkook shrugged. “He’s hated me for as long as I can remember. Even before I met Aoi.”

“Well there’s got to be some reason. That witch, she didn’t give you any details?” 

Jungkook closed his eyes, battling against his rising anger. It was always the same questions. Jae was determined to understand it all yet he struggled to put the pieces together. None of it made any sense. Jungkook could hardly understand it all himself.

The engine cut off as Jae pushed himself to his feet again. “Sorry, I’ll stop asking. I just think it’s a little strange. I mean, this guy’s been after you for your entire life and you have no idea why? Then there’s the sorceress who tells you to stop him but never tells you exactly what it is you’re stopping. If it were me, I wouldn’t know who to trust.”

“You think I do?”

Jae changed the subject with a small shrug, not liking the tension that had grown between them. “I’m picking Kihyun up from the hospital later.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” Jungkook threw his leg over the bike, thankful for the reprieve.

“He called this morning, said they’re releasing him in a few hours. If you want, we could search the upper town again while we’re there. We haven’t done that in a few months.”

Jungkook kept quiet.

Jae gave him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“Honestly, Jae?” Jungkook’s voice shook slightly as he fiddled with the clutch, “I’m starting to think she’s not even here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s been three years. Don’t you think we would have found her if she were?”

“Wow,” Jae dropped his rag on the table and climbed aboard his own bike, starting it up with a little more force than was necessary, “so that’s it? You’re just giving up?” Strapping his helmet on, he lifted the visor and turned to Jungkook. The disappointment in his eyes was worse than all the anger he could have shown. “I can’t tell you what to do, Kook. But Kihyun and I will be on the north side in a few hours. Feel free to join us if you want.” He sped out of the garage then, leaving Jungkook alone and buried in doubts.

Two hours later, Jungkook found himself speeding down the streets of northern Phainomai. He’d left Jae a text saying he’d meet them at the old train depot. The site had been abandoned for years. It was the location where Jae had taught Jungkook to ride, marking the beginning of his new life. Jungkook decided it would be a good enough place as any to continue his search. 

Doubts lingered at the back of his mind. The voices too loud to drown out. He’d searched the northern areas more times than he could count, yet there’d been no trace of her. Jae was right though. He couldn’t just give up. She had to be there somewhere. Jungkook had attempted to leave Phainomai after the first three months but Rawena’s magic wouldn’t allow it. He was trapped within the city borders. While the city was large, after three years he felt as if he’d searched every inch of it. Jae of course had been nothing but helpful. Kihyun was much more cynical, but Jungkook couldn’t blame him. Even in a land of magic, Jungkook’s story was hard to believe. 

Jungkook rested his bike on the kickstand before falling onto the bench which sat beside the old tracks. He could hardly see them beneath all the overgrowth. Aoi would have loved it there. She’d always been fascinated with abandoned places, claiming each had a unique history and story worth telling. Jungkook smiled at the memories. She’d taken them through every empty town or castle they’d come across on their voyages, much to the displeasure of his crew.

“Well, well, well,” Keiji stepped out from behind the depot building, his helmet in hand and a smirk on his lips, “look who we have here.” Fiery red hair stuck up at odd angles from being pressed beneath his helmet.

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he’d picked up from Yoongi years ago. He didn’t have the energy to deal with this today.

Keiji had been a long time rival. Since the day Jae introduced Jungkook to the thrill of street racing and Jungkook had beaten Keiji his first time out, the boy had declared them enemies. Their rivalry only grew with every race Keiji lost against him.

“I don’t have time for this, Keiji. Go annoy someone else for a while.”

“You don’t look like you’re all that busy.”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“Me too.” Keiji slid onto the bench beside him, crossing his legs and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he braced his elbow on his knee. “I didn’t realize you were so popular.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t understand why anyone would want to hang out with someone like you. I mean besides Jae but he’s just as strange as you are.” 

The more Keiji’s voice rang through his ears, the more Jungkook wanted to bash his head through a wall. After refusing to help find Aoi, Jungkook had grown a certain detestation for the boy.

“What are you doing here?”

“Some guy paid me a month’s tuition to find you. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. Not when Dad’s still threatening to cut me off.” Leaning in closer, Keiji’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were sharing a secret. “So tell me, Jungkook, what makes you so special?” 

Jungkook didn’t grace him with an answer. He was on his feet and leaping onto his bike before Keiji had time to react. Keiji’s gift allowed him to know anyone’s location at any given moment, and while he didn’t like doing anything for anyone else, with enough money, anyone could be bought. Jungkook knew only one person who would pay that kind of money to learn of his location.  

“Hey! You owe me a fair race. Where are you going?”

Jungkook started the engine in response. If Keiji had already alerted Akira to his location, it wouldn’t be long before he arrived. Jungkook had to be gone by then.

Fate had other plans. 

Akira rounded the corner just as Jungkook shifted into first gear. Jungkook’s heart pounded wildly against his chest. The metal piping gripped in Akira’s left hand spoke of the man’s intentions. Jungkook had a feeling he wouldn’t be quite so lucky with his escape today.

Keiji shouted after them, confused and frustrated as they tore away from the depot. Tires squealed as they hit the pavement, the rubber fighting to gain traction. Jungkook was a good rider but he knew Akira was better. He would need to find some way to shake him from his tail before Akira gained the upper hand. Settling in, Jungkook hunched himself over as low as he could, feeding as much speed to his bike as he could handle.

The chase was on.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 65 – What I Truly Must Do

“Sir?” 

Takio adjusted his gaze into the direction that Yuigi’s eyes and voice were headed to. 

A white-haired man dressed in a hospital gown wordlessly gave them an acknowledging look, right after which he returned to his play-meerkat stance. 

The course of his action was as swift as a lightning, enough to convince some spectators, if there were to be more besides the two visitors, that he was a man who knew nothing of manners. 

Hence Takio and Yuigi mimicked his behavior out of curiosity, and understanding lit across their faces. 

They happened to be standing in the area within the KSA infirmary, at the corridor with the wall partially made of glass for bystanders and passersby to observe what is taking place inside. 

And Tao was tending to several civilians sent to KSA on the other side of the wall. 

Takio and Yuigi were in the middle of their search for the rest of the RK, to discuss how they should wrap up the calamity at Seoul. 

Since they were unaware that Rael had a small business with Yuhyung in the ICU, they sought Tao. 

They have found him, only to remain immobile in their places. 

It was not because Tao was putting up a show of “how-to-make-a-back-and-forth-marathon-in-a-hospital,” doing nearly as thrice as much work than others, checking up on patients and assigning drugs and orchestrating treatments. 

Their eyes were locked upon a child. 

Back when the gas launched by Tao finally put an end to the disaster at Seoul, the 3rd Elder was lying flat on the earth as an aftermath. 

But he was more concerned about the well-being of the bodies around him, and on the other hand he pled that they send the fastest among them to the site he had in mind. 

Not long after, Rael retrieved from the coordinates he provided a girl and a woman the former addressed as her mom, whose blood pressures were being measured by Tao. 

“If it does not concern you, may I ask what is your relation to that girl?” 

Asked Takio, who remembered how the 3rd Elder was visibly relieved after he was shipped to KSA, to witness that Rael performed his commission to perfection. 

Could they be a family? 

Yuigi was also waiting, her question tugging at her nerves. 

“If the relation you speak of is a biological type, I assure you that me, that girl, and her mother does not share any sort of genetic bond.”

“...Really? Then why would you ask me – ask Rael to prioritize that girl and her mother in collection?” 

“...I owe that kid a debt.” 

“A debt...?” 

“...If I were give you the details...” 

At then 3rd Elder’s lips emitted a poof that was most certainly meant to be a smirk, making Takio and Yuigi wonder what in the world could the man be planning to tell them. 

“I’d say that kid is my master in shopping.” 

Two pairs of eyes, one cyan and one light olive, rippled with confusion at the series of words that they deemed impossible to hear from 3rd Elder, whether it is a jest or not. 

Their confusion grew harder as they ascertained that his claim was as unfeigned as it could be. 

The 3rd Elder was wearing a smile deriving from his heart as he regarded the kid. 

He was truly grateful that she was safe. 

And he was truly abominating himself for what the girl and her mother had to go through. 

*****

By the time Frankenstein took to his mouth the wolfsbane tonic that he changed the components of, the 3rd Elder was sprinting out of his island, wrenching himself by force from the purgatory of his heart. 

Snapping at himself that a bowl of water once toppled is no longer worthy of carrying, he did not cease until he joined Helga in Seoul. 

It’d be preferable to have our enemies learn that you are now with us as late as possible. So for now, I must ask you to stay here. We’d appreciate it if you could back us up when you determine it is necessary. 

After the brief briefing, 3rd Elder assumed his position on top of a building not very far from KSA. 

When the cataclysm Helga mentioned broke in the city, he observed everything from where he was standing. 

During the briefing, he was told that everything was simply one of very small steps that will help them unlock the new beginning of the Union.

In fact, that was what he had been lecturing himself even before the briefing. 

‘But why...? Just why would I feel this way...?’ 

Ever since his lodging at Frankenstein’s island, he had been tormented by sense of loss and melancholy stasis that he could not fathom the end to. 

He had given his all to the Union, for mankind’s evolution and growth, and ultimately for mankind’s peace and welfare. 

Union has been his alpha and omega, the commanding key in his every steps and choices and words and actions. 

Alas, now nobody could ever promise that Union will have a future to look up to. 

Instead he had accustomed himself to the ordinary life that had been perfusing into his days and nights; however, he chose to shake himself off from such life to finally lend a hand to the rise of Union back to heaven. 

But why? 

He knew that some sacrifices are a must, as he and Helga intended to critically sabotage the force that must be gone for Union’s revival. 

Besides, he had hundreds of experiences in watching, apprehending, administering, and forgetting such sacrifices during his time at the Union.

Nonetheless, he could feel his heart moaning as he took in how civilians erratically deformed and disfigured were spraying and spreading blood about them. 

He had to fight an iron-hard urge to abandon his post, against which he miraculously managed to prevail as victorious.

‘Don’t you dare. Now there’s no going back. You can only go forward. You must.’ 

The man hammered his lips with his teeth, forceful enough to draw blood, and even shut his eyes tight, until a horror-stricken voice shrill enough to rend anybody’s heart menacingly pierced his eardrums.

His eyes snapped open at the suggestion from the voice that its owner was no older than ten. 

When the breath that was stuck in his throat restarted its circulation, he had already hopped onto the street into a sprint. 

Soon enough he could lock on the origin of the shriek, and his heart twisted as if it were struck by a meteor. 

“Mommy...! Mommy...!!!” 

A girl was dripping tears at how her mother, as loving as any mother would be just a moment ago, was growling at her. 

As much as she was shuddering in terror, her natural-born affinity to the center of her world forbid her from refuge. 

Nevertheless, a parent who lost her abilities to tell her daughter from her foes revealed her sharpened teeth and lunged towards her. 

At the same time, 3rd Elder hollered at the top of his lungs.

“NOOOO!!!” 

Instantly his eyes flashed, keeping his power just about right to keep the woman fixed on the ground. 

Yet his power was far too great for a puny girl to take, and she fell to her feet, to safely stumble onto her savior who had dashed right away to her side. 

And his eyes started during the course of his anxious, hurried inspection. 

‘You...?!’ 

Fate could be cruel at the most unappreciated moment, thought 3rd Elder, who was too hasty just before to study the profile of the girl. 

The girl was his little helping hand. 

The girl who taught him how to use a self-checkout machine, on the day when he first met Helga in this country – the day when he was almost drowned in the questions about the Union, Union’s purpose, and Union’s future as he stood in the middle of ordinary people busy with their ordinary lives. 

The girl whose face was marred with tears, shocked beyond her sanity that her mother got very close to ripping her head from her shoulders. 

The girl who was nearly made victim to the bloodshed that none other than 3rd Elder himself was part of. 

‘She knows nothing about my world... She has nothing to do with my world. She has done nothing wrong. And because of me, this girl...!’ 

The man’s head drooped, boneless, until a cacophony from humans attempting to maul him hit his senses. 

Pushing them away with a single glance, 3rd Elder could at last take in the view surrounding him. 

A wife and a husband were chomping on each other’s limbs, tramping over the bag of fried chicken that was supposed to serve as their late-night snack.

One of the duo of students on their way home had his shoulder bitten by his friend, who was equally spilling blood from his arm nailed with a row of teeth. 

A group of young men , strangers to each other, were scrambled into a ball of flesh and blood. 

They were all innocent people, who should have had no business at all with what 3rd Elder and Helga had planned. 

‘This is for the sake of mankind’s evolution and growth, and ultimately for peace and welfare...? This is the inevitable gateway to Union’s return, future, and purpose...?’ 

The white-haired elder recounted what Helga guaranteed him. 

At the same time, he beheld the catastrophe no different from what he had familiarized himself with at Union, or perhaps worse, considering how these were all ordinary people. 

And slowly his head began to turn sideways.

Once. 

Twice. 

And again and again. 

‘No... This is wrong!’

Finally the realization of what he had unleashed upon Seoul – in reality, what he had been endeavoring to ignore – crushed upon his shoulders. 

Unconscious of what he was doing, 3rd Elder held his head low, to gaze at the girl who was still listless in his arms. 

He also held in his eyes a tiny lollipop she was clutching in her fingers even now, probably a gift from her mother. 

A sight that pushed a cloud of heat and moisture to the corners of his eyes. 

A child perfectly aged to fool around, have fun, and gorge herself on a bunch of sweets was caught in a night of horror like nothing else. 

All because of him. 

‘This isn’t what I wanted...! I...!’ 

This isn’t what you wanted? 

Don’t play innocent. You’re the one who brought this upon her.

The voice within him yelled into his head, as if it were waiting for the moment, and 3rd Elder’s entire body shook in dreadful tremor. 

‘What have I done...?!’ 

He almost lost his breath, nearly swept away in the tsunami of regret; however, he persevered like never before to still and keep himself standing.

Sealing his lips, shedding blood as the result of his ruthless mincing, he started to move. 

He stacked all the modified humans in the largest crossroads, and he ran into Yuigi in the middle, seemingly trying her best to find an exit from this situation, and they shared what they knew, before he handed her a spare communicator he had. 

He did not forget to pick up the girl and her mother, to safely tuck them away from the rest. 

When he managed to reach Tao and learn his plan, he did not wait to urge him to do it, despite Tao’s warning that he could lose his power. 

He figured it is a must-have sacrifice.

In fact, he did not care if he were to lose his powers. 

His powers were what represented him as the elder of the Union. 

They were the most powerful, essentially the only connection he had to the Union. 

Yet here he was, willing to lose – no, willing to give up on his powers. 

For he knew they were not what truly mattered.

‘How I wish I learned sooner what truly matters... What Union truly had to do... What I truly must do.’ 

Which was why he did not regret at all that he might lose his powers.

Which was why he accepted it as natural as the sun rising from the east. 

Which was what he was ready to do in order to pay for what he had done, if it could be paid for. 

Feeling how his heart was being steeled in wholeness, somewhere between guilt and relief, 3rd Elder smiled until Tao’s missile landed.

*****

Knock, knock. 

Tao drummed the glass Takio and Yuigi were also looking into. 

In notice of the sound, 3rd Elder scrubbed the smile off his face, to whom Tao waved his hand in invitation. 

“What is it?” 

“Someone’s looking for you, sir.” 

I don’t think there is anyone who would require my presence, thought 3rd Elder as he followed Tao, and he flinched upon reaching his destination.

“Mister!” 

The girl jumped off her bed and threw her arms around his waist, not giving any hint whether her recognition is based upon their encounter at the market or from her vague memory about her savior. 

The man froze, unresponsive, feeling too guilty to show any welcoming gesture, and the girl rummaged her pocket. 

“Here!” 

From the girl’s pocket was revealed a lollipop, the one that she was holding during the disaster at Seoul, and 3rd Elder’s eyes momentarily bulged in surprise. 

“...Is this for me?” 

“Yeah! Mr. Handsome over there (At then 3rd Elder’s hesitant, unconvinced eyes shifted towards Tao very shortly, who was smirking in glory and pride) told me that you took away the bad stuff in me and my mom! So you can have it!” 

He knew she would otherwise hate to give away a single treat, given her age. 

He knew he should thank her at once, but he spoke of something else, completely barred from innocence in the presence of the girl. 

“Are you sure you want to give this to me?” 

“I’m okay! I can ask my mommy to buy me new one!” 

Exclaimed the girl, until her face grew a shade closer to a frown. 

“So I want to get out of hospital fast. I want to go have picnic with mommy. And buy candies.” 

Her spectator’s lips were ironed taut at an instant, as he stared at how the girl pouted with her cheeks puffed up. 

However, he soon placed his hand on her head and beamed at her.

“Don’t worry. You’ll soon get to do that.” 

“Really? You promise?!” 

“Promise. I promise you.” 

You will get to do what you want to. What you have to. 

You will get to enjoy your ordinary life, as you should. 

“Luckily, the kid is practically clean of the effect of the gas, probably because she is not completely grown up. Of course, I’m keeping my eyes on her just in case. No need to worry.” 

Quoted Tao for the 3rd Elder, as they walked away from the girl and her mother. 

“By the way... I’m hoping to run more thorough tests on you. I know you went through the most basic ones, but you need to go through ‘check-ups’ check-ups to figure out how much damage that gas caused upon...” 

“Sure.” 

Tao and Takio and Yuigi, who were waiting for them to finish, gaped at the 3rd Elder, their eyes wide open, for they expected him to decline at least once, genuinely or not. 

“Uh... Sure. Why not?” 

“And make it happen ASAP, please.” 

“Uh... Yeah. Sure thing. But why did you suddenly change your mind?” 

“...Let’s just say there’s something I must do, before I die.” 

The three listeners silently flipped but said nothing, seeing how he was so very blasé for a person who was expecting death. 

They could only tail him with teetering steps, as he led the way to the lab. 

And thus things were projected and progressed in order, and by the time the examinations and treatments were complete on people sent to KSA and hospitals under association with KSA, the one person they had been waiting for finally made his comeback. 

At last Frankenstein returned to Korea. 

(next chapter)

This chapter shows the process through which 3rd Elder changed his mind and sided with the RK, as he has been getting familiarized with ordinary life and starting to question Union’s purpose and existence. Like I mentioned in my previous chapters, in the early seasons Noblesse focused on the value of ordinary life, so I wanted to highlight this through 3rd Elder and his characterization in this fic. Now his story has been almost wrapped up, and I have a few more stories to unravel for this fic. I’ll do my best until the final chapter, and thanks for staying with me so far! :)

[tirednotflirting]

i was just an only child of the universe (and then i found you)

@clumsyclifford you enabled my writing this and it is also your birthday so it is yours (unless you think it is Bad which is def a possibility bc i have read it all the way through like 1.5 times and in that case u saw nothing). i hope you have beautiful day. you put so much light out into the world, you deserve nothing but that and so much more in return. thank you for your kindness and community and endless fun. much luv x

and as always here’s the link to ao3 bc it is the Better way to consume writing let’s all be real here

When Ashton wakes up, it’s still dark. And he’s alone.

He lets his eyes flutter open, reaching out to his right for his phone to check the time. It’s just before 4am, he’s only been fully asleep for around two hours. He pushes himself up to sit, the fleecy blanket Luke had tossed across the sheets when the temperature dropped a few weeks earlier pooling around his waist. He lifts his neck some and pushes his hair from his eyes to peer over toward the bathroom to see if he can see the light on, worried the drinks Luke had had several hours earlier were making a reappearance. But the door to the bathroom is open and the light is off, so his lover isn’t sick. 

Or at least not in the bathroom, he thinks to himself when he hears a quiet noise in what he suspects is the kitchen. 

Ashton turns, letting his bare feet drop from the mattress to the floor. He squints against the darkness in search of something to pull on to cover his upper half before going to investigate. He sees what looks to be a shirt and half-blindly reaches for it, realizing it's one of Luke’s flannels once he gets it closer to his face, the identity of the garment being revealed by the softness only achieved from years of wear and wash and the faint smell of Luke’s cologne on the fabric.

He stands and pulls his arms through the sleeves, not bothering with buttons, his entire being just too tired for that. Ashton shuffles out from the bedroom and down the hall, the lack of carpet making him wish he had tugged on his slippers (a recent gift that had come in a care package from Calum’s mom) before wandering out to find his boy.

Luke is sitting in one of the barstools at the kitchen island, the only light on being the dull yellow one just above the sink. He faces away from Ashton, his shoulders covered by one of the quilts he must have pulled from the couch and hunched over some. His hair had grown long during the semester and he’s got it pulled back into a little bun he must have put up after getting out of bed (Ashton never letting him wear it up that way to bed so that way he could play with the blonde curls without a hair tie getting in the way). He sniffles quietly and Ashton can hear him stir a spoon around a bowl that must be blocked from the black haired boy’s view, the metal clinking against the sides of the ceramic.

Gently, so as to not scare Luke, Ashton places his hands atop his shoulders, sliding his hands down to clasp together against the blonde’s chest. He settles his head to rest against the side of his. “Why are you up?”

Luke sets his spoon back in the bowl and tugs Ashton’s hands apart so he can lace his left with Ashton’s right. He smiles as Luke turns to place a kiss against his temple. “I was having this dream that we were eating cereal. And then I woke up when I dropped the bowl on the floor in the dream. And then I was hungry for cereal. So now I’m here.” 

Ashton chuckles to himself as he rubs his thumb over Luke’s where their hands are clasped together. He liked that Luke’s brain worked in the kind of way that got him up for cereal when he was still a little drunk after a night out at the bars. They had been out with Michael and Calum, celebrating the end to another semester. Ashton, the group’s forever faithful DD, had spent the night sitting at the bar, sipping on soda and lime, watching the three others dance on and with each other. He had smiled and nodded at the bar as Luke told him a story of some funny ringtone that had gone off during his literature final and about the therapy dog he had gotten to pet when they brought them by the library.

(He had also avoided the suggestive look from his favorite bartender when Luke draped his arms around Ashton’s waist toward the end of the night, his lips brushing over his neck as he begged to go back home in between kissing the blushed skin. An Uber was called the moment Luke’s hands started trying to creep their way up under Ashton’s t shirt.)

They had gotten home only a couple hours earlier, Ashton sitting Luke at the counter to drink a few glasses of water and take a couple preemptive ibuprofen while he waited for the confirmation text that Michael and Calum had made it back to their apartment a few streets over.

(cal: we are out of the uber.

cal: we are at the front door.

cal: michael dropped his keys and then someone walking a dog walked by so he is petting the dog.

cal: it’s pretty fluffy. his name is einstein.

cal: okay we’re in our unit now. door is locked. we are drinking water.

cal: [attached] seeeeee? 

cal: luv u)

Getting him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change out of his jeans hadn’t been all that difficult. Luke had two phases of sleepy drunk: giggly and hangry. Thankfully Ashton had made sure all of them had a full meal before hitting the bars so he knew he was likely to deal with the giggly version of his boyfriend rather than the latter. Luke had followed Ashton by hand to bed without complaint, slurring his words around a story about another dog he had met recently before his words slowly came to a stop as he fell asleep against Ashton’s chest.

Luke uses his free hand to take another bite of the colorful cereal, frowning when a drop of milk hits the counter. He swipes it away with his thumb and then smiles again. It’s quiet between them for a moment while he leans his head against Ashton’s as he continues to stand behind him, chewing slowly, as if stuck on a thought. Ashton finds himself smiling adoringly at him as he glances at his face out of the corner of his tired eyes. It’s obvious the blonde is still at least a little drunk.

“What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

Luke’s expression shifts for a moment then, to something lighter and happier, in response to the compliment. It fades just slightly and then he’s dropping his spoon in his mostly empty bowl and turning in the barstool so he can face Ashton. He drops his hands around his waist and maneuvers the standing boy to move between his legs. “You ever think about how tiny we are?”

Ashton slides his hands up where they’re rested against Luke’s bare chest, fixing the blanket to stay wrapped around his shoulders before letting his arms hang loosely around his neck, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the curls at the back of his neck that have escaped the little bun.

“I hate to break it to you, Lu, but you’re a little bit of a giant compared to most people of average size.”

Luke opens his mouth to reply but then closes it again and pouts his bottom lip out. Ashton can feel him play with the hem of the flannel at the bottom of his back before sliding his hands underneath and resting against the skin there. “No, I mean, like. Do you ever think about how big oceans and planets and suns and stars are and how we’re just these tiny little things? Just little specks on what is a speck in the middle of other specks?”

The question itself, though alcohol induced, is pretty damn existential. And Ashton probably would have wanted to take a bit longer to formulate an answer but Luke is looking at him with those anxious blue eyes and his hands at Ashton’s back pull him in closer, as if he’s worried that that big wide universe will suck the hazel eyed boy away. He’s trying to think of a way to respond when Luke keeps going.

“Because I mean it's just so wild to me. How we can be so little and tiny and really not much of anything at all when compared to everything else in the universe. Yet for some reason the universe decided to give us just a little bit of attention to guide us to one another. I can’t stop thinking about what we did to deserve something so special.”

And despite knowing that everything coming out of Luke’s mouth in the poetic way that it is is liquor induced babbling, Ashton’s heart is bursting at his words. Luke is speaking from a place of adoration, of love, not existentialism (or at least not too much). He’s not even sure what to say really so he just slides his hands up to cup Luke’s cheeks, the blonde closing his eyes while smiling wide, his blushing cheeks pressed against Ashton’s palms. 

He shakes his head as he runs his thumbs below Luke’s ocean blue eyes. “Guess some higher power had a free afternoon and decided it might be funny to kick both of us in the direction of the library that day. To make you spill your coffee in the elevator to the fourth floor.” 

Luke lets out a giggle and drops his head to the side, Ashton’s left hand holding it up. “When our kids ask how we met, we’re gonna have to come up with something better than that. You’ll have to make up some story about wooing me, you’re much better at telling stories.”

Ashton lifts his brows and lets out a gentle laugh. “Our kids?”

Luke responds with a look as if Ashton’s just said something ridiculous. “Yes, our kids. Should at least have two. That way they’ve got like a built in friend. Ideally, a boy and a girl.”

Ashton can’t help himself as he leans forward to press his lips to Luke’s for a brief moment. Even dead tired and drunk, Luke sees him in his future, long term future too, not just next summer or something. He can taste the sweetness from the cereal and Luke’s toothpaste as he pulls away, dropping his hands from his cheeks so he can rinse the cereal bowl, the heaviness of the early hour really starting to weigh on him again.

“Have you picked out names yet?” Ashton asks Luke as he watches Ashton turn on the water and wash the leftover milk down the drain. Ashton looks up to see the blonde’s gentle smile as he pulls the blanket closer around his chest. 

Luke answers immediately, causing Ashton to blush since that means Luke has certainly thought about the question before. “I like Matilda - like from the movie? - for a girl. And I think your middle name would be nice for a boy. Both sound nice with Irwin, too.”

“So they’ll have my last name then?” Ashton asks with a smirk, his eyes still soft with the love for his boy.

“Yeah, I always thought so. I mean, I want to have it one day too so the kids probably should as well.”

Ashton rounds the counter again, moving back to stand between Luke’s legs. He pulls the hair tie from his curls and cards his hands through them. “You’ve thought a lot about our future, huh?”

“Have you not?” Worry briefly crosses Luke’s eyes.

Ashton shakes his head. “No, of course I have,” he starts, one of his hands reaching down to hold Luke’s. He always liked how their hands looked like they were meant to hold the other’s. “I had just always thought on the end of making sure we could find jobs in the same place, that we find a city both of us like, introducing the parents to each other next spring like we planned. Thought about how I might propose but hadn’t gotten into the logistics of names and such. You really want to take mine?”

Luke’s lip pouts out some as he nods. “Yeah, I do. Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He watches then as a blush slowly creeps up to Luke’s cheeks, though they’re still pink from the liquor he’d had earlier. Ashton coaxes him to standing, their hands still clasped, and he uses his free one to pull the blanket from Luke’s shoulders to drop on the couch as they pass by. For a moment, he squeezes their palms together before letting go to shuffle to the opposite side of the bed, pulling off the flannel before sliding back beneath the covers. 

Luke immediately slides his body to press against Ashton’s side, his face dropping to nuzzle it’s way into Ashton’s neck, letting his lips just barely brush against the black haired boy’s shoulder. Their legs slot together beneath the sheets. Ashton had always been thankful for the immediate calm that would wash over his body when pressed as close as he could be to Luke. He liked not having to worry about him letting go. (In what way he means that, he’s not really sure.) He’s just seconds away from sleep when he hears Luke whisper, his lips dancing delicately against Ashton’s skin as he speaks.

“Love you, Ash. Glad I got to find you.”

“I love you, Luke,” Ashton sighs back as the calm settles again.

And as he lets their fingers tangle together again against his bare chest, Ashton finds himself wondering if the action will feel different when they’ve got the wedding bands he’s hidden beneath a stack of t shirts in his chest of drawers resting on their fourth fingers.

*

[withabackpackandcamera]

March 27th, 2021

Day 4: Beach Hopping in South Maui

This morning, we woke up exhausted and sore from the crazy, busy first two days of the trip. Because today was originally planned to be a chill, lazy day for recuperation, we took the morning slow and easy, waking up a little later and hanging around the hotel room. For breakfast, we just finished our dinner leftovers from yesterday evening instead of trying to gather up energy to go find a new place to eat. 

After looking through our schedule and doing some planning, we realized that there was still so much to see and do and that so many of the things we wanted to see and do required us to make the most of whatever good weather we came across here on Maui. Because the forecast for today was mostly sunny, we decided that it would be a better idea to take advantage of the sunny weather and go out and do stuff rather than just sit around and waste away a good opportunity to explore.

We ultimately decided that the best thing to do was spend the entire day exploring the Kihei, Wailea, and Makena areas of South Maui. The drive to Kihei, our first stop, took a little less than an hour in normal traffic. Because it was around 1:00pm by the time we arrived in Kihei, we decided that grabbing lunch at Kihei Caffe would be the best first thing to do since it was nearing closing time for the restaurant. Because we had just finished our leftovers, Cynthia and I weren’t particularly hungry by the time we got there. So instead of ordering a lot of dishes like we normally do, we just ordered the restaurant’s well-reviewed Loco Moco, a native Hawaiian dish that consists of a burger patty topped with gravy served on rice with a fried egg on top, and a mixed fruit smoothie. The Loco Moco was just enough for us to share and it was pretty good. Nothing crazy amazing but it hit just right for our not-yet-hungry stomachs.

Because we had found a convenient parking spot next to the restaurant that we didn’t want to give up, we decided to leave our car there and walk along the beach and park located across the street from Kihei Caffe. We strolled through Kalama Park and along the beach area right behind it until we hit Cove Beach Park. Because there didn’t seem like there were too many other places to walk to in the heat, we turned around and returned to the car to drive further down to the Wailea area, located about ten minutes further south. 

In Wailea, our first stop was at Pa’ako Beach, also known as Secret Cove Beach. The beach was located behind what looked like a typical, low-key neighborhood. After parking along the neighborhood streets, we walked through a gap in the stone wall and climbed down some rocks to get to the beach. Although it was nicknamed “Secret Cove Beach,” this beach was clearly no secret beach, as there were already a few parties lounging on the beach and enjoying the ocean views before we got there. But wow, the beach and cove were beautiful and so picturesque! A small stretch of sand lined the short coast. There were large volcanic rocks abutting the shoreline that crafted waterways for the oncoming waves and rushing water to sneak through. And on either end of the sandy beach were bunches of palm trees standing tall in the wind that together with everything else completed the stunningly picturesque scene and provided the icing on the beachy cake that made this little area look like the perfect example of tropical paradise. 

For the first time this trip, we actually took it easy. We laid our beach towels down and just hung out there, calmly taking in the beautiful sights and sounds. Every now and then, I would get up and take some photos or soak my feet in the cool water. After a little less than an hour there, we started to notice patches of dark gray clouds sneaking into the previously clear blue skies. Once we felt a couple of raindrops on our skin, we decided to pack up and head back toward Wailea to avoid the possible incoming rain. 

Before even beginning our trip back to Wailea, the skies quickly started to clear up again and the sun reappeared in the now blue sky. With this weather change, we changed our mind and decided to stop by the neighboring Makena Beach, also known as “Big Beach.” This beach was completely different from Secret Cove Beach because it was way bigger, the waves here were much crazier, and there were a lot more people there. Again, we laid down our beach towels and got comfortable in the sun. As Cynthia sunbathed, I watched the surfers and boogie boarders ride and flip over the waves. Because the waves at Makena Beach were pretty big at times, it made for the perfect place for people to catch the waves. And it was fun watching these people attempt crazy water stunts out there! 

Once the sun was bearing down on us and it got a bit too warm, we returned to the car and drove to The Shops at Wailea, a fancy outdoor mall with lots of fancy stores and boutiques. Because sunset was right around the corner and Secret Cove Beach seemed like an excellent place for sunset photography, we decided to chillax at the shopping center until it was time to head back over. While Cynthia explored the clothing boutiques and shopped, I walked around the mall and window-shopped in some cool stores. 

Eventually, we made it back to Secret Cove Beach with an hour to spare before sunset to stake our claim on a good spot to see the sunset. When we arrived this second time, there were a few more parties than before and the beach was definitely more crowded, filled with people waiting for the promising sunset. Because there was no good “one spot” I could find for all of the views I wanted to capture on camera, I left Cynthia and the beach towels in one area and set up my tripod in another area, hoping to provide myself with two options where I could best photograph the setting sun. I spent most of my time away from Cynthia once I realized that this “away” spot was the best spot I could find. And I stationed myself there and prepared for the sunset as time ticked down. Eventually, the orange sun started to descend in the sky, slowly making its way down toward the horizon past the scattering of clouds in the distance. The sight was beautiful. So warm, so peaceful. I tried my best to capture as many good shots of the sunset as possible but many of the shots were often interrupted with passersby and kids running in and out of the frame. Ugh. So annoying. 

By the time the sun had completely disappeared, leaving a little glow in the sky, I was done with my photography for the evening, and it was time to pack up and head back north toward our resort. But before heading back, we made the good decision to grab dinner in the South Maui area instead of having to rush to find a dinner spot in West Maui before everything closed. After a quick search, we committed to Coconut’s Fish Cafe in Kihei, one of the restaurants that I had starred on my Google Maps prior to the trip. 

Our restaurant of choice did not disappoint! After a brief wait in line to order, we ordered Coconut’s Fish Cafe’s coconut shrimp, clam chowder, and grilled mahi-mahi with Cajun seasoning served on brown rice with a side of salad. The whole meal was oh-so-delicious! SO YUMMY! And for such a good, affordable price! I can’t believe we had such delicious food in a restaurant that wasn’t even that fancy! 

With stomachs happily filled with good food, we drove back to the Royal Lahaina for the evening. After quickly dropping off our stuff in our room, we went downstairs to check out the pool areas behind the resort before making our way to Kaheliki Beach, located in the resort’s backyard. For half an hour or so, Cynthia and I strolled along the beach under the moonlit night, taking a few moments to enjoy each other’s company while listening to the calm ocean sounds. At one point, we even took a seat in the soft, cool sand and lay back to enjoy the evening clouds cruising by overhead. 

How nice it was just to sit and chill and take it all in. To be safe and socially distanced in Hawaii and to enjoy a little R&R during a pandemic. So very thankful for the opportunity. And so thankful for a nice, relaxing day in Maui. Until tomorrow! 

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. The town of Kihei has a chill, quotidian, everyday-life-type vibe compared to the west side. 

2. Wailea is the nice resort area of South Maui. Resorts. Golf courses. Nice shopping. Beautiful beaches. It has it all. 

3. Makena Beach is a great place for adrenaline-rushing water activities! With the waves as big as they are, it’s no wonder that the beach is full of boogie boarders and surfers!

4. Hawaiian Language Lesson! “Mahalo” means “Thank you” in Hawaiian. And “Aloha” can be used for “Hello”, “Love”, and/or “Goodbye”. 

5. ABC Stores are the 7/11 gift shops/markets/convenience stores of Hawaii. They not only sell your typical convenience store goods but also souvenirs, shirts, alcohol, beach gear, and much more! 

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 38

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Interlude | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37

“Hiccup.”

Hiccup peered down from his perch on Toothless’ back at the tiny figure on the land far below waving furiously at him. The figure called again, distant at first until the sound drifted up to meet him. Hiccup’s brow furrowed. Sound had never echoed like that up into the air before. What felt like a hand clamped down on his shoulder, dragging him off Toothless. Hiccup yelped Toothless’ name, arms reaching for his dragon as he watched helplessly as Toothless tumbled down along with him.

“HICCUP!”

He jerked out of sleep, eyes popping open and wildly flicking about. Blonde hair and bright blues eyes filled his frame of vision. He paused, staring into those eyes.

“Hey,” Astrid said, softly. The caress of her knuckles soothed across his cheek. “Where were you?”

He turned his head, nuzzling her knuckles, thankful for her presence. “In a really crazy dream.”

“Are you okay?” Astrid asked, her hand retreating into her lap.

“Yeah.”

Hiccup sat up, rubbing the sleep from his face. They’d spent the past three late nights training the other teens to become dragon riders. Hiccup wanted to ease into the training, and Fishlegs seemed to be the least likely to cause chaos. Aside from Fishlegs’ barely restrained shrieks, he did remarkably well. Hiccup had crafted a simple saddle for each rider to start off with. Fishlegs had white-knuckled the saddle so hard, he left imprints of his fingernails in the leather. He’d finally eased after several minutes of his Gronckle – which Fishlegs named Meatlug -- hovering and gently buzzing over the boundaries of the cove.

The following nights weren’t as uneventful. As soon as the twins’ rear ends planted in their saddles, they spurred their Hideous Zippleback to zoom off. Astrid and Hiccup found them zig-zagging through the sky, hooting and hollering – Hiccup’s fear hitting Fahrenheit at the thought of all the attention they were most likely attracting. They barely got the twins attention to follow them toward the cove so Hiccup could pick up Toothless. After the wild training session and one tree blown to fiery bits on a neighboring island, the twins dubbed their dragon heads Barf and Belch.

Snotlout walked into the training session as if he was the greatest dragon expert known to the Archipelago. He sauntered up to his Monstrous Nightmare and commanded the Nightmare to bow for him to mount. The Nightmare eyed Snotlout as if he was the dumbest sack of rocks on Berk. He snatched Snotlout in his pointy teeth – in which Snotlout yelped so loud it felt it echoed through the entire island (another fear-cringing moment for Hiccup) – and tossed Snotlout onto his neck. The Nightmare blew a puff of hot breath at him before following Stormfly through the tunnel. The only other incident that night was the Nightmare heating Snotlout’s butt when he got too cocky. Hiccup was right. The Nightmare would definitely keep his cousin’s ego in check. Snotlout dubbed his Nightmare – Hookfang – because his dragon needed a “kicka** name”.

Other than the few attention-drawing incidents that thankfully didn’t draw attention as far as they were aware, the training sessions went well. Every teen had bonded with their dragon and Hiccup could see the friendships growing. Slowly, very slowly, the knots in Hiccup’s stomach began to unwind.

Hiccup scanned Astrid. She wore her daily clothes. Her skin glistened from a light sweat from most likely a morning jog. “Sorry I overslept and didn’t have breakfast waiting for you.”

“It’s not like you don’t have a good excuse.”

“You were out as late as I was.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a competition, Hiccup.” She grabbed his hand, giving him a hearty yank. “Now, get up. We have dragon training with Gobber.”

“Why isn’t that over with yet?” Hiccup whined as he let Astrid drag him to his feet.

“It’s over when the Chief declares it over,” she tossed a green tunic his way and a pair of pants that slapped Hiccup in the face, “and since the Chief has returned—"

Hiccup froze, clothes hanging haphazardly on his arms. His stomach bottomed out at the realization that hadn’t hit him yet. “My dad will be watching today.”

Astrid immediately appeared in front of him and cupped his shoulders. She caught his line of sight. “Focus on me, Hiccup.” His distant stare finally snapped to her. “We’ll get through this, and when your dad sees how well the training has been going, he’ll declare it over and we can move on.”

She took the clothes from him, laying them on the bed. Before Hiccup noticed what she was doing, a shiver ran over his skin as Astrid hauled his nightshirt over his head – leaving Hiccup in only his undershorts. She reached over for his tunic and offered it to him. “Get dressed.”

***

Today, they would battle the Monstrous Nightmare. The group had barely trained with the Nightmare in the ring. Their first session with him led to Snotlout flailing around the arena franticly searching for water to put out his flaming rear end. But, that was before he’d made friends with the Nightmare that he called Hookfang.

Hiccup and Astrid had trained Hookfang in a choreographed fight as they had all the other arena dragons. He knew cues that they would give him to perform certain attack moves. They’d informed the other teens of these moves. They knew what to look for, and hopefully they wouldn’t do anything dumb to counteract those silent commands.

The helmet his father bestowed to him perched heavy atop Hiccup’s head. He’d grudgingly brought it with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the gift, but it had been given to him under false pretenses. It felt like a beacon on top of his head of the blatant lie he carried – a lie that could easily be spilled out at any given moment.

“We’ll get through this,” Astrid reassured as they paused in the tunnel of the arena. The other teens had gone on into the ring. She tucked her fingertips under his chin for him to look her in the eyes. “We have so far.” She left a quick peck of encouragement on his lips before gliding confidently into the arena as if she owned it.

Hiccup watched his wife – his strong, courageous wife – and breathed in from the bottom of his lungs. He walked in, a great deal slower and uncertain as if the burden on his shoulder was weighting him down. He scanned the viewing area where a small crowd of Berkians were gathering. His gaze caught on the massive figure of his father. Even from the height above, Stoick was a pillar that could not be ignored. His eyes followed Hiccup, and Hiccup awkwardly waved to his father, who nodded back in firm greeting. Hiccup tore away from the viewing stand to peer around at his comrades -- their various weapons ready in hand.

Gobber hobbled to the crank and within a few revolutions, the cage door burst open. Hiccup jumped back not expecting such an outburst. Hookfang towered over them, fire licking upon his gelled skin. A dark cloud of smoke huffed from his nostrils, wafting through the arena. His glowing yellow eyes blazed as bright as his fire.

Hiccup’s mouth unhinged in slow motion. Hookfang resembled nothing of the dragon that melted into a chin scratch just the other day. The teens slammed their palms over their ears at the roar that reverberated off the stone walls. Hiccup nearly jumped out of his skin at the pull of his elbow.

“Hiccup,” Snotlout hissed through gritted teeth, “what’s wrong with my dragon? This isn’t part of the plan!”

Both cousins leapt out of the way as Hookfang barreled right at them -- Snotlout’s screechy yelp embarrassingly loud.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup kept his voice hushed enough that it didn’t carry, “maybe the crowd is spooking him, or maybe us holding weapons?”

It was obvious that Hookfang was extremely agitated, but he hadn’t in the past minute tried to attack any of them with flames or gnashing of teeth. He simply rushed around the arena circle, squawking and panicked.

“Hiccup, what’ll we do?” Astrid asked, having made an appearance on his other side. “If he keeps going like this, we may have to actually fight him.”

Astrid’s resolve to the problem hit like a stone in Hiccup’s stomach. Fighting Hookfang was the last resort and he wanted to give the dragon every chance before it came down to that.

“Let me try.”

Hiccup set his narrow shoulders. His chest contracted deeply as he sucked in and moved forward. Hookfang was slowing his gyration around the arena. Hiccup threw up his hands in a non-threatening fashion, catching Hookfang’s attention. The Nightmare slid to a halt, his pupils narrowed to slits.

“Hey, big guy,” Hiccup ventured, trying to keep his voice low and calm. “You know me. Hiccup. What’s wrong?”

Hookfang’s heated breath huffed over Hiccup causing an instant sweat. Hiccup chanced a step forward. He knew this whole scene was drawing attention to his ‘method of madness’ as Gobber referred to it, but he’d risk it to steer Hookfang back where they needed him to be to play out the choreographed fight.

Hiccup slid another step forward. Hookfang whined, remaining still as Hiccup reached his hand out toward him. As soon as Hiccup touched his jaw, Hookfang snarled out. Before Hiccup even knew what was going on, his back slammed to the floor, knocking the breath out of him. His helmet clattered some distance away.

“Hiccup!” he heard Astrid cry from somewhere around him. His whole view was Hookfang’s glowing eyes and pointy teeth and--

“Stay back!” Hiccup commanded. The sound of feet shuffled toward him stopped in their tracks. “Hookfang, you’re gonna have to trust me. Okay, big guy? Please don’t bite my arm off. I’d hate to lose a limb.”

Hiccup shoved his arm into Hookfang’s mouth, trying his best to not get snagged by the long, protruding teeth. He grabbed hold the loose tooth stabbing into Hookfang’s lower gums and jerked it out in one fluid motion. Hookfang reared backwards, yelping, and then suddenly stopped. He stared at Hiccup, the black slits of his eyes widening. He looked himself again. He wiggled his bottom jaw testing if the pain, he now obviously was in, was gone.

Hiccup knew they couldn’t afford any time to regroup. They had to keep up the charade or get caught. He gave the signal to Hookfang and the dragon proceeded right away into the actions he’d been taught to pretend his way through a fight. Hiccup met Astrid eyes and she knew exactly what to do. The rest of the teens – in their own ragtag way -- followed her lead. In a matter of a couple minutes, Hookfang was being cornered back into his cage. Gobber throw the crank and the cage door shut with a loud bang.

“Yeah! We did it!” Snotlout yelled in Hiccup’s ear as he came barreling against him.

Hiccup nearly lost his footing from his cousin’s impact. He elbowed Snotlout and nodded down to his hand to reveal a tooth as long as his hand and then some. “Looks like a dropped tooth was the culprit. Since he’s your dragon, this belongs to you.”

Snotlout grinned from ear to ear. He gripped the tooth as if it were the greatest prize ever bestowed on the earth. “This is totally going around my neck!” he proclaimed, and Hiccup guessed his cousin meant as a necklace.

Hiccup pitched forward at the breath knocked out of him. He glared at the smirk his wife carried on her lips. He accepted his helmet back from her that just assaulted his stomach. “Best dragon trainer in the Archipelago,” she said, proudly.

Hiccup couldn’t help but smile at her acclaim. His gaze dared to seek his father. Stoick remained planted in his seat, bent over his lap and stroking his beard --appearing more in the manner of a Norse god in contemplative thought than a mortal man of Midgard. Gobber gabbled on at him. Hiccup wondered what the blacksmith was ringing in his father’s ear. Stoick was absorbing it with the utmost seriousness.

Hiccup swallowed hard and his stomach churned uncomfortably at what criticism to expect from his father.

Tags:  @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e

[worldcakecakecake]

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth,  we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule,  go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to  be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I  Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64  I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68  I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70 I Chapter 71 I Chapter 72 I Chapter 73 I Chapter 74 I Chapter 75 I Chapter 76

                                                   Chapter 77

Timoteo had passed on to the third realm, one evening while they were enjoying from some homemade gelato from Galdi. The angels didn’t have to explain anything, with their approach, both just knew. Timoteo tearfully had to say his goodbye, and Feliciano gave him a tightening hug, wishing him the best journey, comfort with the Aces and a good cycle into reincarnation. Timoteo hoped that he could find the four stances, that he could have the universal alignment, save Ludwig and their world.

 He was taken into the most darkened path that day…and Feliciano hasn’t seen him since. New people came, others continued to leave on, yet Feliciano didn’t find another person with who he could share a good connection as he did with Timoteo.

 He spent his times lonely, thinking and plotting. In one part, it was thinking words for what the four stances could be. He took to writing them on a hidden wall, carved with the little magic he had allowed himself to use. He had a hundred and fifty written, reading them over and over, trying to find the proper pair to the kingdoms.

 In another part, it was wondering how he could get Ludwig back. Yes, he knew where was…but he didn’t know how to get him out from there. The only way he could think of…had the chance of destroying him as well.

 Then…the point and focus of everything…how was he going to use all of this to defeat Khaos.

 He would groan and lay his head in defeat every night, more dejected each time he returned to the Galdi household. He had a corner there to himself, to try and pretend rest, sometimes sketch or wonder on answers. It was also the same place of reunion and planning, always someone there to plan the next event. He didn’t mind it, it actually helped to ease him if his mind was in too much turmoil, the speech always enough to lull him to sleep.

 For the weeks that passed, that was his routine. This night in particular, he arrived to three ladies chatting joyously over the table. They were too festive, smiling and laughing in a way that Feliciano just couldn’t ignore. He let the smiles spread to him too as he tried to peek over, Giulia covering the parchment before Feliciano could read out something definitely.

 “What are you doing?” She asked playfully.

 “The real question is,” here Feliciano took a chair to join them in their sitting, “what are you three doing?”

 Giulia sighed as the other two gave approval to let him know. “You do sleep here, so we can’t really hide anything well.”

 “Not to mention you always get loud.”

 The other chuckled while Giulia glared. “Very well, your majesty. We are making preparation for this month’s square festival!”

 “Already? It’s only been-”

 “In a couple of days…it will actually be a month since the last one,” one reminded.

 “Only…a couple of days…” Feliciano was startled, silenced into realizing how much time had passed…his time in the second realm almost over. The stress was evident, the girls having to speak on to keep Feliciano from succumbing to it.

 “You know…this is a pretty private and very tight group…the island just doesn’t let anybody work on the preparations,” one smug, earning just the right playfulness to arise in Feliciano.

 “Really?”

 “Yep! Not even…Queens of Hearts or…whatever!”

 “You three have been here pretty much the same time as I have. What deeds have you done to be granted such tittles?” Feliciano chuckled.

 “Bossiness, surely,” one admitted, Giulia gasping in insult, earning large laughs in the room.

 “Feliciano, we’re only messing around. Come, sit with us, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of great ideas to add.”

 Feliciano sighed…debating if to indeed give to this while he had a wall he was carving that needed more words…a space that needed more thought…all while a ravaging war was taking apart his world. He shouldn’t indulge…he should be…but this was a chance to be creative, a moment of his past, to do well and grant these people a day of joy…for many their last before they pass on…including his own. He was persuaded for happiness, taking a pen, and looking through the list, adding or adjusting, chatting along with the ladies like the worst turmoil wasn’t happening.

 So focused he was…sometimes he would forget to go to the wall, all those thoughts on stressful words vanishing in his excitement for feast. He joyed in these coming days, trying fabrics of heavenly approach, foods of the delicacy of his old world and company of gold. It was like this world had become his, under this spell that made him forget all, dancing and laughing all the excessiveness he couldn’t on those last months of sorrow. And oh what a feast, what playful aura that made him even join the children in running all across the square, being part of that very image of dream that had welcomed him the first time he came here. Many toasted and danced, congratulating Feliciano on his part of the celebration. Truly a pride that reigned him as he ran and skipped all throughout with all the splendor of his people. Nothing could extinguish this, nothing could-

 “My sun, my moon, my land, my love…”

 The tune disturbed all, the melancholy of a woman reigning strong despite the felicity in this square.

 “Wha-what?” Feliciano awoke along with what felt like a strong hit on the head. But in his awakening, he could only focus on where this song was coming from. No one seemed disturbed, they all went along in their enjoyment.

 “…the sky has all fallen…”

 There it was again, no one heard it, no one reacted, only he startled and searched for anyone in the crowd who could be shouting it.

 “…the kingdom weeps their king’s farewell…”

 He had to look for it, he had to know where it was coming from, what it was, who it could be. What if they had answers? What if they could say more to the meaning of this song that had haunted him for so long without explanation or story? What if it was Augusta? Romulus? No matter, he settled off, in confusion to the children, halting their game wandering where the Queen was going, deep in the streets of their town, away from this jubilation.

 “…and a queen breaks at her lover’s parting again…”

 It yet continued to sing seeming to come from every corner, but no matter how quick Feliciano tried to reach it, it was gone, back to trying to reach its distance, ever moving and evasive.

 “…but in your defend, all will join and fight for our future…”

 Feliciano was growing out of breath, he was frustrating and ready to shout out. “Where are you…where are you?” He ended up whispering to himself as he rounded another empty corner. Nothing yet showed itself, but he knew the coming lines to be the last, to be the end.

 “…so the heavens will bless in your rest our perfect peace…”

 “No…” and just like that, the melody was gone, as if it was never there, the silence he met at this edge of the island haunting. Feliciano wanted to burst in this miss…what he thought a closeness to an answer…an answer…oh no, the answer! He groaned realizing the wasted time, reminded of a mission that he laid forgotten, forcing his hand unto his eyes to somehow keep the tears that wanted to flood.

 How could he just let it all fall? Go on and ignore that his world needed him.

 Something, something, there had to be something he could do quick, in whatever time was left, in whatever- someone was coming. Out from the distance…small, no details to be clear yet, a very entrance like the one he had made when he first arrived. He had thought only one…but then he saw a second, a third, a fourth…many…many began to come forward.

 “What…” he whispered to no one but himself…trying to make sense, wondering who they could be and what was their meaning. Feliciano walked slightly forward, standing on the waters as they walked toward, Feliciano distinguishing their realm gifted wear, Heartian, Italian…they were all passing spirits, newly arrived here. There were countless, spreading across like something large had been spilled over, even the sailors and rowers finding difficulty to move between them. They were all lost, wondering, trembling, some held hands, some comforted and felt in that welcoming bliss, others only decided to follow the person who was most ahead, a woman who had been transfixed by the form of the island, her pace quickening the more details she noticed. And then…there was the Heartian Queen, standing singularly, present and still as the majesty of a fresco in a church. That was the pulse that rushed her forward, ignorant to all as she stood before him, trying to believe him there, baffled, stuttering, yet her entire being showcasing questions.

 “Sua Maestà,” in the end was the only thing she could say, trembling and eyes watered…betrayed.

 Feliciano took her hands, comforting and trying to instill the trust she had lost and the welcome he could give. They stood in silence together, for Feliciano had no words, and the ones he had were nothing worth of an apology that she could forgive.

 He decided on asking, bracing for the blame, but an answer he needed. “What is going on? Why are so many of you here? What has happened?” Despite so many, Feliciano told them in ease, careful, his hold still as dear as he awaited.

 The woman breathed, remembering with pain to then answer: “Destro is in Italy.”

 Feliciano startled and trembled, a suddenness that could have dropped him to the floor if it wasn’t for the hold the woman kept. He was shivered with a cutting pain, as if the reckoning told in those simple words was scratching on his skin.

 “What…? No! Last time I was there, he was…he was still in Clubs, only reaching the Heartian border…the defend should have been good…he shouldn’t have reached Italy…he shouldn’t have-”

 “But he has!” She ended up shouting. “Your majesty…you have been gone for more than a month and in that time Destro has swarmed the entire southern Hearts Kingdom. Greece, Iberia, Croatia and Turkey are all gone! Italy was well on its way to join the rest. They’re evacuating people to Scandinavia in the hopes it can remain the last stronghold…but it has not been quick enough…” she gazed to all there…those who didn’t have time…didn’t have the right defend or the soldiers weren’t enough. “I know there has been calls to evacuate Germany…for when Italy falls…”

 “…he’ll be in Germany…he’ll reach Berlin…”

 “In a matter of days!”

 Heavy breathing, a storming realization, turning away to handle these strong words of his world, his home, his kingdom, his cities, dead or on the verge of dying. More the weight of his duty pressed on, blaming, shouting at his incapability of avoiding this. His province, his people, dying, and soon his family and even his body in the castle will be ready to be engulfed in true finality.

  All, no matter how far the threat still remained, could feel the rumble, hear the screeches and even smell the smoke that was coming to their reach.

 “Everyone out?” Lukas asked who the inhabitants of this beautiful red building had been. Bricks of old, red flowers coating well its gorgeous façade…it hurt to know that soon it will be gone.

 “Yes, that’s all,” a man came to take the lantern Lukas offered, one infused with strong protective spells that would cover the group he was granted.

 “You may follow the rest. Keep with everyone, stay with a hold on your loved ones and chosen belongings. You will leave the city walking but transport might come to those who are sick and weakened. Keep faith! Scandinavia will be the refuge we need,” Lukas repeated once again…and once again the people only responded with a darkened nod, turning, dejected, looking more like they were walking to an end than actual safety. They began to join with other groups, each shinning with their own red lantern, the only color…everything else just seemed to blacken and grey with the miss of its people leaving, left to the demise of  the wrath of a monster.

 “All this street is empty,” Tino announced, hurrying to Lukas’s side.

 “How is João dealing with the roundabout of Prenzlauer?”

 “There’s still three buildings with inhabitants deciding what they should bring with them, even with the insistence. Not to mention they are running out of lanterns.”

 “I’ll let Abasi know we need his people to make more. You go and help João. We’ll see what we can do about Mitte afterwards.” And they rushed off between the large masses of movement, with carriages, others crying and refusing, and the bright red lights.

 Up from the heights of the castle, Renata and Arthur looked as a plentitude headed off through the northern route, between hills away to the safety they hoped Scandinavia could remain. The red lights alighted them, a shield they hoped was enough to stand and protect them all. They could see only small parts of the city remained and how they hoped they hurried.

 There was a far-off blow, a large cloud arising to the sky, mixed with red, flashes of white, and then a shriek that had Arthur and Renata leaning down and covering their ears. From the smoke, they could see but a small image, still vanquishing the outskirts of the city, but the fact that they could now see Destro from the comfort of the castle was provoking and fearing.

 “Ready to start formation!” Herakles came hollering, heavy breaths and panic clear. Renata would never get over the new scars of war on him, so much petrified shout in the expression she had met and knew as calm and comforting.

 “Then go and start!” Arthur shouted, exasperated, shaking and surely ready to fall apart if it wasn’t for the fact that he was being counted on as a big part of the formation. They all began to leave, joining Herakles in his hurriedness.

 “Has Augustino been taken out of the castle?”

 “I’m sorry to inform that he is still here,” Herakles refused to look back, focused on getting them through the halls.

 “What? He should already be out of the city!”

 “He denies everything. He has shouted, cried, even began hitting some of the caretakers. Right now, he refuses to leave Antonio and Lovino’s side.”

 “They can’t accept to leave him here!”

 “But they had made their decision.”

 “No! Absolutely not!”

 “They’re-!” By now Herakles turned to this distant aunt of his, Renata seeing now clearer than ever the reddened veins in his eyes, seeming to pierce at his sight. “-they’re…still hoping Feliciano can come through.” There was a tremor, the castle shaking, some stone cracking and dust falling upon them, but yet they continued this exchange as if nothing, standing and menacing. “Feliciano is supposed to be entering the third realm today and tomorrow we have to awaken him, with or without the power of the alignment. No matter what happens, tomorrow is the decisive point that will tell us if we will all survive or die. No matter what, Antonio and Lovino had come to the decision that they will remain and face whatever happens with their son in their arms…better here than dying somewhere he doesn’t recognize or without his family.” And Herakles was off before Renata gave more to the discussion…to the realization that this was the reality, this was the last resort, the last place.

 She gazed down to her hand still glowing pink, now cracking more in age as it was hitting its toll. Oh…how she hoped Feliciano had found something…that he could come be their savior tomorrow at the evening that was planned to arise him.

 She couldn’t stand there longer…she had her place in the formation and she had to hurry to it, as everyone around her did.

 Soldiers, from all over the kingdom, even others, kept a standing outside the castle, gaze focused and ready to inflict at the first spot of Destro. Many already had their weapons up, some already had magic blazing in their hands and others practiced commands. The interior of the castle was propped with all kinds of defenses, having no other choice but to have offered servants aiding in the guardship and defense. They too, had old weapons pointed, had to practice spells they never thought they would one day use and many of the household leaders were practicing their shouts in harsh war command.

 Renata reached the pool, the royals and other chosen servants as well with their own positioning and weapons.

 The last stance, the last wall before Feliciano, still suspended in the water, the body beginning to look cold, colors vanishing.

 “Renata, you stay at the very back with your family!” Wang Yao shouted, all moving aside to give her place. It was with her husband, her son, his husband, and her little Augustino, well cradled in all their holds, scared, trembling and crying, but despite this, despite the bruises, the scars, the traumas, the three older men kept their own tightening on their weapons, knowing that if they were to go, they were to go with a try in fight. Renata found her place in the huddle, holding them all dear as if they were to say goodbye now.

 “Remember to keep faith still! We have a day! We have to believe Feliciano can come tomorrow with exactly what we need!” Kandake reminded to all in a chant, yet coated in fear as they moved back, as if Destro was in the very castle finding his way between to reach right to them. It seemed like it was the actuality with this new shake the ground took. Yet no messenger came as it was meant to be planned. They still had a chance to keep their ground, together and strong.

  The stances… the stances… he had to know the stances now! What if he wrote all the words somehow? What if he brought them with him? Maybe he could convince…something or someone in the third or fourth realm. Perhaps reading them all aloud, shouting, tearing, crying…it was when he noticed he was heaving and shaking to this new group that came.

 “Sua Maestà,” one tried to reach and comfort.

 “I have to…I have to…” his mind still went on in a reverie, stuck in the need and desperation. It was with the touch of this nearing man that he was made aware of his standing and who stood by him.

 No…despite everything he had to help these people, he had to get them settled. If there was something he could do, if he was abled, he could push through, he could go on with his duty even at the worst heaviness.

 “Please, all of you, follow me. You are now in a safe place. There is currently a feast that I’m sure all would love for your part in it. Come, come with me!” He hurried, keeping himself kind and offering, one all could follow, fall finally into the ease and beauty of this place, more so as they traversed these enchanting alleys, reaching the alight of the square and what it was offering. It could have been a joy, could have been the welcome that all there knew they had to give to all the new that came…but then after one, came two, came four, came six, that alley Feliciano came from bursting with a large array of people that easily soured and planted worry in all. Nevertheless, many came to offer their welcome, but also to ask, to fret, the square in the end turning to a place of worry and agitations.

 “Feliciano, what’s going on?” Giulia came, demanding and shocked.

 “Destro was in Italy.”

 “What?!” She already settled in the hysteria of all, some who heard in the surrounding joining her as well in the disarray.

 Feliciano shushed and tried to soothe her to even breathing, “we can’t let ourselves panic now. Focus on helping others calm, answer their questions to the best of your ability and help them settle like is the norm!”

 She managed to find her peace, nodding, and already settling on what she considered the command of a queen. It was enough now to keep everything at bay, all distracted in the conversation to really notice how Feliciano was slowly moving away. He had some time, he had some peace and loneliness, he could head that instant, memorize all the words, find a way to write, find a way, find a way- what was supposed to be his leap was cut by the large presence of an angel.

 “Oh! You’re here! Good! These people need a lot of help to settle. Please, more angels must come and-”

 “I’m not here for them.”

 Feliciano dropped.

 “You shouldn’t worry, my brethren will come to do their part, but my own…is to take you to the next step. Please…come with me.”

 And like this his time was cut short…he was to say goodbye, he was supposed to go to the last steps of this process and yet he felt empty, incapable to face the reserve, still with questions and wonderings on how exactly he could obtain this. For a moment he wondered on fighting. He still possessed power, he was an Ace, Augusta’s chosen, he could… he stared to the potence of this angel, tall, shinning, armored and with a spear that could well stand at any fight. These angels were chosen to keep well a balance in death that Feliciano knew, by nature, he had to head to…as his grandmother created. With a nod, trying to calm whatever anguishes boiled in him, he decided to follow.

 As all others, Feliciano was brought to one of the many alleys, moving on and on in its depths like this was but any other stroll he had taken to think of words for stances. The angel at one point moved behind him, and Feliciano, still confused by where he should go, settled on only moving forward unless the angel spoke a word. On and on everything moved around him, but no difference, no portal, no transport to the next realm.

 “The third realm is only a hall, shaped by the magic that lays between all worlds. Once there, you should focus on only moving ahead, no matter what occurs around you.”

 “What…what happens?” Feliciano thought he could ask.

 “You transform. You take an image granted by the Aces, for what is to be your spirit and soul in the heavens. It is granted in attacks that might seem like they are to hurt you, but they are indeed only changing you. Do not worry, no matter how harsh or intimidating it seems, it is not meant to cause any harm.” Silence befell, still the same walls and canal at his side. “Your only there a matter of minutes, alone, and on your own you find the entrance into the fourth realm.”

 “How long am I there then?”

 “It is different for everybody. In your case, I assume not long, perhaps only a day or even a couple of hours. If you are meant to return to the living world…you can’t pass the gates to the heavens. If you do, the connection to your body is severed and you can never return.”

 The street began to get as grim as the words, Feliciano shivering.

 The angel’s step suddenly halted, Feliciano’s own stopping in question. The angel then pointed to the canal, which began to ripple and produce an image downward. It darkened, away from the aquamarine waters Feliciano had gotten to know in his stay. It was a tunnel, under the water with a pathway that Feliciano didn’t know if he could walk upon. The angel motioned for him to step forward, commanding and defending so he wouldn’t try any escape. Feliciano was obedient, nodding and beginning a hesitant step into the canal, his feet sinking into the water, but not as deep as shown.

 The ground came to him like a ramp, leading him deeper into this darkened tunnel that slowly enveloped him unto the next stage.