#i thought i knew the answer to this one -- and scribe agreed with me -- but google says i am wrong

[astriiformes]

Hello tumblr. A fic-writing question lead me to look up a word to make sure I was using it right, and now Scribe and I are losing our minds a little. Those of you who are also old enough to remember having a non-cellphone phone in your house, please weigh in:

Without looking it up, what part of the phone is the receiver?

[mrpenguinpants]

Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

[lexsssu]

Fortunate (Alhaitham)

TAGS: Alhaitham/F!Reader, fluff, fatherhood, motherhood, domestic fluff, family fluff, pregnancy

If one were to ask the scholars of the prestigious Akademiya what their thoughts were about Scribe Alhaitham settling down, most would call the asker a madman for even suggesting such a thing. While he had both many admirers and enemies alike, the one thing they could all agree on is that the scribe is a man too wrapped up in his own pursuit of knowledge to even look at a woman and see her more than anything aside from a being of the fairer sex.

Not to say that he was unaware of what happens behind closed doors between two consenting adults, but rather that he simply found no deeper interest in them, unlike his other peers.

His brooding good looks are wasted on him, as evidenced by the trail of broken hearts and wistful sighs from the womenfolk he passes by on normal days when he’s not holed up in a library or the confines of his own room. Simply put, Alhaitham is a man who isn’t chained down by any of his base desires, once again setting him apart from the common man.

That is why it comes as a shock to the entire population of the Akademiya and even Sumeru City as a whole when he arrives one day from another trip outside the city. While that in itself is still within the norm, the companion he brought along with him and the state she was in had thrown everyone for a loop.

As Amurta’s jewel during your time as a student, all the while being the first female beastkin to enroll in decades, you were a relatively well-known figure then. And even after graduating, you’d still occasionally visit the city when called by your master, Sage Naphis, or if you needed to borrow some references from the library.

It was no secret that you were close friends during your schooldays, seeing as you were the only person Alhaitham willingly accompanied outside of schoolwork. Chancing upon the shining stars of Haravatat and Amurta together wasn’t a surprising sight then, and it shouldn’t be one now.

But what threw everyone for a loop was the heavy swell of your belly as you stepped into the city, hand in hand with none other than Alhaitham himself. Even the most ignorant fool could understand the situation, what with the way the scribe’s eyes frequently turned to you even when you weren’t looking at him.

It spoke volumes of how protective he was of you, especially with your delicate condition. Although his admirers were blessed with a new side of the scribe, there is no denying that there is no more room in the aloof scholar’s heart.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Ugh, I knew we shouldn’t have brought this up with you…”

“I thought my answer was quite engrossing—”

“...Haitham?”

The speed at which Alhaitham turned at the sound of your voice made the other three men blink in surprise at the sudden action. And before they could make any other movement, the scribe had already scooped you into his arms and sat back down on his seat with you settled on his lap.

“...’m sorry for crashing your party, guys. Atem woke me up and wouldn’t let me go back to sleep without finding his daddy first…”

Your soft bunny ears hung down in shyness as the apples of your cheeks shone as red as those grown in Mondstadt’s Dawn Winery, hands resting upon your belly bump.

Tighnari, Cyno, and Kaveh couldn’t find it within themselves to feel even a little annoyed by your sudden presence. Why would they when you were their friend before you married Alhaitham?

“Don’t waste your time on such frivolous worries, eayni. Worrying yourself ragged over pointless issues isn’t good for your health or our son’s. I have no qualms if you’d prefer to return home together right now instead.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It never ceased to amaze Kaveh how different Alhaitham acted around you or when anything concerned you. Between the two of them, he was supposed to be the one with his head in the clouds and with an eye for romance. Yet somehow, Alhaitham beat him to the punch when it came to settling down.

While he was still finding ways to pay off his debt and rise from the pit he’d fallen into, the scribe was already nearing the birth of his firstborn. And from the looks of it, you never seemed to be lacking material things or affection from your husband.

The tender words, touches, and looks the other man gave you were almost tooth-achingly sweet.

It also doesn’t help that he may or may not have found you a very attractive woman and was considering courting you before Alhaitham swooped in.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tighnari was the first one to realize that you had mated with the scribe, no thanks to his keen sense of smell that all beastkin share. The way Alhaitham’s scent practically enveloped your whole body was more than enough for the forest ranger to surmise the current state of your relationship.

You were his cute little junior, someone he’d vowed to guide both to your master and to himself as a fellow beastkin. Had you not chosen to mate with Alhaitham, you’d have most likely found mates in one another instead.

As friends who also shared a senior-junior relationship during your schooling, your clans would have most likely tried to broker an engagement between you two. Tighnari wouldn’t be opposed to it, not when he was already good friends with you, making you the best possible choice instead of being thrown some other random female.

He had no doubts that if neither of you harbored any feelings toward the other by then, such romantic affection would certainly be cultivated along the way.

But by Celestia’s will, that wasn’t the path your lives would take, and as a good friend and upperclassman, he can only give his sincere blessings and continue watching over you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Before he was General Mahamatra, Cyno also started as a humble student of the Akademiya. But even during his school days, his unyielding principles and relentless pursuit of what is right above the blind quest for knowledge scared most of the other scholars.

Not you, though.

You saw not just the face he showed to the world but also the one he never thought anyone would care to see. Beneath his titles and reputation, he is still Cyno, a human who tries his best to make his friends laugh and put his subordinates at ease.

Is it any surprise why he cared for you so deeply? And even if you’d chosen to tie yourself down to Alhaitham of all people, Cyno will stand guard over you.

It’s the least he could do, after all.

Perhaps, in another life, the gods will see fit to bless him with more than just your friendship.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Unaware or perhaps even choosing to ignore the weight of the other males’ stares, the scribe devoted himself entirely to ensuring your comfort. Although, with how you settled yourself comfortably on his lap and grabbed his Genius Invocation TCG cards, he didn’t need to make any further inquiries at the moment.

Placing his chin on top of your head, he nonchalantly scanned the cards in your hands before whispering his suggestions into your ears. Throughout the rest of the night, Alhaitham obediently and happily served as your chair and cushion.

Fatherhood suited him, he thinks.

[zylophie]

Can I request a alhaitham x reader fluff alphabet? A,S,V,W,Y? thank you!!(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

(；￢＿￢) — alhaitham

✿ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : yue is typing... ✉!

✿ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : what is your romance with the scribe is like?

✿ — ♯ GENRE : fluff

✿ — ↠ NOTE : as an alhaitham main, I was looking forward to write this one as soon as I get the chance so I hope you enjoy this anonpyon~!

✿ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, in doing so will motivate us to continue delivering stories to you, thank you for all of your supports ~ !

✿ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : fluff alphabet of A, S, V, W, Y with alhaitham...

💬 ┊A ffection - How do they ask for affection?

💌 ┊. . .

The way he does it...is questionable at most but there are rare occasions where he can be pretty sweet...

"Haitham..." You approach the man with a note in your hand "You want to see me?"

"Ah yes...come over here for a moment" He hold up a scroll, urging you to come closer.

You walk over to where his desk is, confused by the contents "Huh? Isn't this just a picture-MMM?!"

...he always take you by surprise especially when you less expected it.

💬 ┊S tardust - What kind of dates do you have with them?

💌 ┊. . .

He isn't fond of outdoorsy kind of dates, he usually prefer having dates at home or library date but once in a while, he would let you drag him out and have a "proper" date...

"Waahh~! Haitham! Look, Look over there!" You exclaimed joyfully, skipping your way through the forest "Isn't the view so nice from here~?"

"I'll admit... it's nice but you really should watch where you're going" He said with a stern expression.

"I will be fine, it's safe ove-WAAHHH!?!"

... thus begin your eventful date with the scribe.

💬 ┊V ow - What kind of promises would they make with you?

💌 ┊. . .

He isn't the type to make promises with people but when he met you for the first time, that was when he start understanding its values, this concept of "promises"

"Hey, Haitham...why exactly did you agree to that promise of ours?" You asked shyly, twisting a few locks of your hair "I was a little curious..."

"Which one?" He shut the book he was reading and turn his attention on you.

"Uhh...you know the one..." Soft pink hues spread across your cheeks, feeling embarrassed by his stare "...that you will stand by my side no matter what others say about me..."

"It's because" He stood up, grabbing your right hand and stare deep into your eyes "I know that I can trust you"

...his promises with you are simple and sweet, coming from a man who only want to walk through life with you.

💬 ┊W edding - How they dream of their perfect marriage?

💌 ┊. . .

The thought did cross his mind a few times, he isn't one who would think of a big wedding instead he prefer a smaller and private wedding with only invited friends and families, he is just a simple man...

"Haitham~ Which one looks better on me...this one? Or this one??" You were holding up your wedding outfits up close to you, having a hard time to decide on one "ughh, I can't choose!"

"They look nice" He said with a a blank expression...if it wasn't for the almost unnoticeable smile that went away as quickly as its come.

You pouted, unsatisfied with his answer "Oh, come on... you said that almost all the time!"

"Well, it's not my fault that you just naturally look nice in anything you wear" His gaze was intense which doesn't help your situation.

...he is a man of few words but he always know what to say, leaving you with pinkish cheeks.

💬 ┊Y earn - How they felt the moment they knew they fell for their crush?

💌 ┊. . .

The moment he fell for you was when he first saw you reading multiple books in the library, he heard stories of how other scholars look down on you because of your carefree lifestyle but when he saw how invested you are in your studies...

He didn't understand what was this weird feeling deep inside him but one thing for sure, he couldn't take his eyes off you "..."

As if feeling his heat gaze, you lift up your head and meet his eyes "..."

You didn't say anything but instead you quickly draw something on a piece of paper and show it to him with a wide smile;

Good work today! :D

"Pft..." He couldn't help but chuckle at what he just witness, you're an odd one is what he thought at the moment....

from this day onwards is when his feelings begin to bloom slowly.

[xngelholix]

╭ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁⠀rare acts of affection⠀☘︎⠀al haitham x gn! reader

╰─── ⠀al haitham doesn't know how his hugs and kisses make you feel so loved.

it all started with the little nudge he'd give you after a long day, hands slowly wrapping themselves around your body as he leans down to rest his head on your shoulder.

he had found you focused on the seat of your little office, eyes trailing each word that's printed on the book he had lend you to help on your research. al haitham was so used to your consistent greetings around this time of day, waiting to see you smile at him as you stood by the door to greet him. but it seems like you were so caught up with work that you didn't even noticed your lover observing you from the door.

to say that al haitham was tired was an understatement, given that he was still days away from having his resignation as the acting grand sage be effective and to continue working as the akademiya's scribe. adding the heavy load of his current position, a lot of students had their presentations scheduled this time of day for projects he had yet to approve (most likely to reject because he'd noticed the decline of excellent papers produced by the students this year and he has to do something about it).

it was suprisingly mentally and physically draining for him and al haitham never knew how his mind would suddenly work up the thought of wanting your affection. maybe he just got used to you being more expressive to compensate on his lack thereof. he wholeheartedly agrees that you two compliment each other well but this new profound feeling inside his chest had him recalling what other reasons may have caused his heart to stir for any source of warmth, especially if it's coming from you.

"haitham?" you looked up to see your boyfriend standing still at the door, his eyes seems to waver for a split second before he focuses back on you.

"it seems like you've been busy," he trails off as he takes a seat beside you.

"yes. i wanted to finish this as soon as i can so we can somehow have dinner together."

it's also been so long since the two of you have spent time doing things unrelated to work or research. this also means that al haitham's been getting less and less of your unyielding affection.

maybe it really is muscle reflex at this point. he thought as he slowly makes his way to your chair before gliding down his arms to drape across your shoulders. the sudden contact of al haitham's warm body across your back had you pausing on your work, tilting your head to the side with nothing but curiosity lingering in your eyes.

al haitham can feel the way you stared at him, stiffling a small chuckle before he reaches down to wrap his hands around you.

"i miss you," he whispers, barely even audible if not for the silence so defeaning in your home. you let out a giggle, leaning in back to let yourself relax in his hold.

"well, it seems like you really do." you began to point out his sudden show of affection, causing a visible hue to stain his cheeks a lush pink before letting go a huff (yet he can't seem to peel himself away from you, liking how you've perfectly fit in his arms). "i don't mind it though, i love it more when you're the one asking for some 'cuddles'."

"oh, so you're saying that you just want to see me flustered?" he asked, sensing the upcoming bells of your laughter. and you did, you can't help but chuckle before slowly peeling his 'feeble' arms away as you stand up. he still waits for your answer, eyes observing how your face lit up in happiness. a sight to behold and cherish, he would often catch himself thinking how he's so blessed to have you in his life.

"hm~ maybe?" you went to wrap him up in a tight hug, pressing your body close to his as you lay your head on top of his chest. you can heat his faint heartbeat slowly quickening upon contact, smiling as al haitham proceeds to hug you back as well.

"i miss you too, you know? and just witnessing the al haitham, showing this rare acts of seeking affection makes me want to get the most out of it." al haitham can see the way your expression suddenly shifts, your smile threading on the edge of sadness.

he recalls yet again how less and less were the times spent you two with each other, sighing at how much it made you this sad. as he wasn't that well-versed on how to properly express his desire to be physically intimate with you, as this was new to him as well, he thought back on how you would cheer him up when times were a bit hard on him (although it's rare that it happens but he still managed to recall each memory he has of it).

as you both stood there in each other's arms, you somehow were too engrossed by the fact that your boyfriend had taken initiative in being intimate this time. it wasn't that you minded how you'd often be the first tk act out on affection but you appreciate how he does anyway.

especially as he pulled away and went to pull you towards your bed.

he had made the pillows on the headboard and went to grab the soft blanket that you love so much before sitting down at the spot. there, he pats on his lap followed by opening his arms wide as if to welcome you. you snorted, seeing this new side of him both amusing and endearing to just witness.

"well? what are you waiting for? come here." al haitham ignores the way you're still giggling from this atypical behavior of his before moving towards him and lying on top of him. al haitham gently lifts the two of you up to move to a more comfortable position and went to drape the blanket around you.

"this feels nice."

you can hear the soft brush of the trees on your window as the cold breeze seeps inside the room. the sun had already kissed the ground and had let the moon shine from the heavens, its faint white glow matches the warm tone of your lamp light. you can see the way al haitham just gazes at you, causing you to raise your eyebrow.

he shakes his head, as if to reply to your unaired question, before pulling you closer in his hold (as if you weren't already). "just rest and let me take care of you, okay?"

you mindlessly nodded back, smiling as you let yourself be embraced by his warmth. then it was all silence, not the type where you'd both feel so awkward but rather you both feel at ease, just enjoying each other's presence.

you remembered how long it were to have al haitham be this intimate with you. it took you two months before you could have him cuddle with you and another before you had held his hand in public and with him doing his best to ignore the stares some researchers give you two. it was absolutely adorable of him, feeling his hand grab you tighter as you continued walking away from the public's eye. he never let go, not even once until you both reached his office but not without the image of him being all flustered and leaving a fleeting glance at the hand that held yours.

recalling all the little bits of these memories caused you to giggle, humming in glee before catching the cautious stare from your boyfriend. "it's nothing." you reassured him before you went to trace shapes on his toned arms. "we've been through a long way now, huh?"

"yes," al haitham replies, still caught up from thinking what's going through inside your mind. you have that faraway look in your eyes, something he learned you to have whenever you were deep in thought and being the person that he is, he'd always find a way to know what you were thinking.

but it doesn't always end with the way he want it to. you're always way up ahead of him, sensing his intrigue as you'd go change the topic or do something so far from what you've originally planned. it amuses him, it was a trait of yours that he finds endearing.

but something seems to bother you this time.

"sometimes, i think that one day that you'd somehow grow tired of me being this clingy..."

al haitham can feel his breathing hitched when you spoke of those words, slowly peeling his eyes away from the window and went back to focus on observing the expression painted on your face. it was of sorrow, he knew from the way your eyebrows would quirk in a downward crescent along with your lips puckering a little to form a pout. he used one of his free hand to let it rest on your cheeks, making you look up to him and you were welcomed by his rare soft smile.

"i think it would be the opposite," he mused before using his thumb to rub on your cheekbone, eyes catiously gliding back forth and freckle and beauty marks that adorned your beautiful face. al haitham was never good with his words or with his actions but with how he looked at you, eyes soft and so full of unabated adoration, you knew that you're loved.

"how so?" you mirrored his action and started drawing circles on his toned arms, causing his muscles to relax further more against your touch.

"it's quite simple. a gorgeous, loving, loud but sweet woman like you couldn't possibly be more than interested in a man like me. isn't that how people see us?" the doubt that dances along the edge of al haitham's voice could only strum worry in your heart.

you shake your head before pushing yourself up on your elbows, perfectly encasing the man underneath your reach. he now had both his hand on your waist, his fingers dangerously gliding through the small of your back, distracting you of what he thinks is a lecture because he knew he's not one to be clouded with doubt, not when he often thinks things through.

"then i may have already perished if that day ever comes." you can see how al haitham's eyes widened at the confession that soon followed by gentle kisses to his forehead, sliding down to his cheeks before swaying athrough his jaw. and soon, your lips have finally met his. it was sweet and short just like how he would express his affection, fleeting in contact but it burns itself to your memory.

"i love you so much to leave you, do you know that?" you now rest your head on top of his chest with your hands on both his side to hug him back, listening to his now erratic heartbeat, smiling when al haitham reciprocates the gesture. "i already am the luckiest to have captured the heart of the akademiya's greatest scribe so who am i to complain and even consider growing tired of how he shows his own way of affection?"

al haithams's chest buzzed on your cheek as you felt him chuckle, amused with how you put into words the spilling emotions in your heart. and he loves nothing more than to capture each drop and savor it for days to come.

"then i may need some help in improving my show of affections because a certain someone can be so demanding from time to time." you could only give his arm a quick slap from jesting before you found yourselves laughing in each other's embrace.

"you can be a handful too, you know? it takes so much in me not to —" as much as you want to prove how al haitham is indeed a menace in your relationship, he once more placed his hand on your cheek to make him look up to him before plantinf a gentle kiss on your lips, effectively shutting you up.

"and i just know when to take advantage of your doting nature, showing all these rare acts of affection just to please you, my love."

xngelholix © 2023⠀☘︎⠀don't copy, modify, re-upload or plagiarize any of my content.

[starleska]

your welcome home oc is so CUTE! i want to know more about them like where did you get inspiration from to create them and like how you come up with such an adorable name like that 😭💖 istg this fandom is so creative and fun

ahhhh oh my goodness this is so nice of you!!!! thank you so much 🙈🙈 it makes my heart really happy that you like Cynthie Scribe so much!!! 🥰

i agree, i absolutely love the wonderful OCs everyone has come up with, they're so inventive 😖 i'm gonna pop this under a read more as i rambled a little - putting waaay too much thought into OCs is a favourite thing to do 😂

oooh, those are some great questions!! i really love making OCs for my favourite characters, and i adore trying to come up with characters who gel well with the canon of that character's universe. for Cynthie, i knew immediately i wanted a writer character, because who better to pair with our beloved puppet artist? 🥴 almost all of my OCs made for shipping purposes have a little bit of me in them, and given how much i've written for Wally, it only felt right to make a fun writer for him :3c

the name actually had a lot of thought put into it 😂 like all of the Welcome Home characters (not counting Home), i gave Cynthie a first and second name, with the first name being a more general, regular name and the surname being applicable to who they are. Wally's a Darling, Poppy's a Patridge, Sally's a Starlet...you get the idea 😉

as for the rest of Cynthie's design, i went through a few different iterations until i settled on something that fit! i already made a Muppets character before (Sagan, who I ship with Dr Bunsen Honeydew 😳) and i didn't want to repeat the colour scheme despite them being very colourful indeed! i usually draw my self-insert self as having green hair, so i used that and went for red skin in line with the kinds of colours that other Welcome Home and Muppets characters have - replicating the contrast Wally has between his yellow skin and blue hair 😉

something i'm interested in is the rhythm of names; about half of the Welcome Home characters have names with two syllables per name (How-dy Pill-ar, Ju-lie Joy-ful, etc.) and the other half have names with one syllable and then two, or vice versa (Frank Frank-ly, Edd-ie Dear, etc.). so when naming Cynthie, i knew i needed a name which fit into one of those rhythms, or it would stick out like a sore thumb! i'd been toying with naming a character Cynthia for quite some time, but that wasn't sitting right...and then it hit me! as far as we know, Wally isn't short for anything, but lots of the Welcome Home characters have names that end with the 'ee' sound (Wally, Julie, Eddie, etc.)...hence, Cynthie Scribe was born! 🔥💖

for the clothes, where Wally is deeply stylish, i wanted Cynthie to have something more haphazard and whimsical - dungarees seemed like a great, practical choice!! those little circles over the straps are actually stickers, which they love to give out to their friends 🥰

now at this point, i felt that Cynthie's design was lacking a little something: i wanted to keep the cute, cropped-and-curvy hair, but felt they needed another distinctive feature. then it hit me - someone like Cynthie likely keeps pens in their hair, always handy to write with!! i finished the design by completing the rainbow and adding the yellows and blues to their outfit, as well as a little heart nose to show off their romantic side :3c

haha, i hope this answers your question!! thank you very much for asking about Cynthie - i hope this is inspiring if you're looking to create your own Welcome Home OC 🥰

[violetriorsons]

“So naturally, his instinct because he doesn’t know Violet and he does know Brennan — and I would hope that if someone knew my sister, they would care for me, but they wouldn’t know me."

i take it to mean that it’s understandable for us to hope that xaden would’ve cared for violet because of brennan, but at the end of the day it’s not the case bc xaden doesn’t know violet. and it’s also been years since brennan had spoken to violet, so even if brennan had been regaling xaden with stories about violet, neither of them know who present violet is.

so yeah, brennan’s won xaden’s trust and loyalty, but that doesn’t extend to violet because they’re different people. and violet is just as much the daughter of the woman who killed xaden’s dad as she is brennan’s sister.

and like RY said at the beginning of her answer, xaden’s so young and not at all thinking rationally. he clearly knows that violet is lilith sorrengail’s weakness, and he’s presented with the opportunity to enact the perfect revenge for his father’s death. he’s still deep in the throes of grief after the rebellion, so it should be understandable that he’d want to just go for it.

also, we do have enough little bits of info to suspect that he thought violet would willingly choose the wrong side of this war:

1. her mom locks xaden into a deal to keep vi safe, which shows that lilith loves and cares a lot about violet, and it lends well to xaden thinking lilith and vi may have a close relationship (esp considering brennan had nothing nice to say about lilith according to RY in this interview) bc of this. this is further backed by number 2,

2. in FW when vi and x run into lilith on their way to the flight field, xaden tells violet afterward that he wasn’t aware her relationship with her mom wasn’t good. he’d assumed they were close

3. violet was not only training to be a scribe, but to take over for markham, which would mean she would be charge of keeping up with the cover-up of the venin. the only person who knew she would never agree to that was lilith, but i doubt she told anyone about that

so xaden had plenty of reasons to not trust violet. i was also gutted by the revelation his deal with lilith. but i personally don’t feel like it casts a bad light on him as a character or his relationship with vi, bc very early on he was going above and beyond what lilith had demanded of him, as we see in his bonus chapters

**spoiler for those**

he didn’t have to step in for violet’s challenges or threshing. he explicitly says so in his pov chapters, but he was attracted to her and had begun to care about her enough that he wanted to help her. especially after violet chose to keep his secret about the marked ones “club.”

and he fell in love with vi way before she fell for him, regardless of how much she was thirsting after him.

so yeah those are my two cents about the whole thing

HELP! I THINK I'M DUMB!

*****SPOLIERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME BELOW****

I read this Rebecca Yarros x Variety interview (https://variety.com/2023/tv/news/iron-flame-spoilers-rebecca-yarros-fourth-wing-tv-series-interview-1235781877/) after listening to it recommended several times in an episode of Fantasy Fangirls Podcast. The question I included confused me and I just can't figure it out.... lol (I think maybe it is the way RY's response is worded idek) so naturally I came here in hope someone else can explain what they think it means to me or we can chit chat about wtf is going on...

So obviously I get and appreciate the part where RY says Xaden is not in love with Violet just based on Brennans stories. The part that confused me was the "He’s a kid. And he loves Brennan. He doesn’t know Mira. If he has one chance at revenge, it’s Violet. And not only is Violet his chance for revenge, but the mother has just taken that chance away from him. So naturally, his instinct because he doesn’t know Violet and he does know Brennan — and I would hope that if someone knew my sister, they would care for me, but they wouldn’t know me."

So is RY saying that he wanted to kill Violet the first time he saw her/ realized who she was on the parapet as revenge for what her mother did (despite the fact that he "loves" Brennan - maybe his hatred of Lilith out weighs his love for Brennan?) but couldn't because of the deal he made with her? So then what does that statement "So naturally, his instinct because he doesn’t know Violet and he does know Brennan — and I would hope that if someone knew my sister, they would care for me, but they wouldn’t know me" mean? Is he going to try and make not killing her more bearable by telling himself its for Brennan...??? is that what is going on? is that what she means?

And then if were gonna take it a step further there are several statements throughout both books when Xaden tells Violet (or the reader during his POV chapter) that he has loved her longer then she realizes, he has always been hers, yada yada yada. Obviously they were attracted to each other atop the turret - they both admit that. Then in Iron Flame he tells Violet (when speaking about Cat) that you don't have to like someone to fuck them.

So from this article/ RY's answer to this questions in combination with pros from the books were supposed to think that Xaden wanted to kill Violet because of his hatred for Lilith despite the fact that he loves Brennan (and Brennan, like everyone else who knows Violet (including their mother who put her in the riders quadrant for the exact reason that she would make the choice to go against Navarre once she found out the Fables of the Barren were indeed NOT fables and be killed for it in the scribes) believes she will make the right choice when the time comes, and I would assume if Xaden told Brennan about the favor his mom called in would have told Xaden the same) so he keeps Violet alive because of the deal with her mom but also out of respect and love for Brennan and ends up falling for her on an emotional level (since it is made very clear he is physically attracted to her from day one) along the way......?????????????

Is this what RY is saying???? I'm just very confused and of course, like Violet, I was gutted when I found out he only kept her alive because of the deal with her mom and likely would have killed her (loving Brennan or not) had she not called in the favor.

What is anyone else thoughts!? Please converse I'm begging!!!

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to a Courier with the Eye for Eye perk just walking around with half their limbs broken because the pain is literally making them stronger.

TW: Blood, gore

The courier was nowhere to be found when their companion awoke beneath the soft firelight of the Dead Horses' torches and the bright eyes of the man who led them.

"I believe they've left us for the evening," the Burned Man said in his usual aloof tone, even as he reclined behind his workbench in Angel Cave. "I've never walked the path of a courier, but I imagine it transfers a certain restlessness to an individual. Staying in one place loses some of its charm. Your particular courier, however, lets that instinct drive them to the point of being foolhardy."

As if to prove Joshua Graham's speculation correct, the courier staggered into the cave, their clothes torn and bloodied. Despite sporting an obvious limp, an arm curled protectively against their chest and deep claw marks all over their face, they were shouldering a yao guai's severed head alongside their full traveling pack and wearing a wild smile.

Arcade Gannon: "God dammit." Arcade disentangled himself from his bed roll and rushed to the courier's side, ignoring Graham's obvious disapproval at his taking the Lord's name in vain. "I told you not to run off into the canyon without packing extra stimpaks. Here, let me-"

The courier stopped his fumbling hands with both of theirs. Arcade looked down in shock at the broken arm that was firmly grasping his fingers, then up into their frenzied eyes. "Six, you need-"

"I don't." The courier spat some blood out onto the dirt floor of the cave. "I don't. The Sorrows... White Bird..."

Arcade mentally cursed the tribe up the river, then just as quickly withdrew the malevolent thoughts. It wasn't their fault the courier went looking for injuries. "Datura root? Okay, sit down, over there. Take a load off."

The courier limped over to the chair Joshua Graham was offering. They sank into it with a sigh and let the yao guai head fall to the floor, where it began to bleed onto their boots. "Thanks," they said. "I should-"

Arcade stuck them in the arm with the stimpak he kept concealed for these occasions, and they screeched, loud enough to cause even the Malpais Legate to jump. "Fucking hell, Arcade! Not again!"

Craig Boone: Boone jumped to his feet. "I can't be your spotter if you keep leaving me behind, Six. Tell me you haven't been using that junk again."

In answer, the courier pulled an empty Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle rigged with a hose and tin foil from inside their pack and tossed it aside. "Last dose, I swear. Not that it helped much in close quarters."

They lifted the yao guai head high over their own, striking a victorious pose. "Shouldn't bother the Dead Horses or the Sorrows again, unless there really is a ghost out there."

Boone and Graham stared at the courier, particularly at their bent arm. "You require medical attention," Graham pointed out. "Shall I fetch the shaman?"

"No thank you." The courier made a face and heaved the animal's head across the room. It flew through the air in a nice arc, bounced twice, then rolled to a stop at the Burned Man's feet.

"Six..." Boone said testily.

The courier groaned, familiar with the serious tone. "Fine. But I've had worse scrapes, and you know it."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin!" Lily shrieked and rushed to the courier's side. Her hands flew up and around them, but every time she attempted to touch them she recoiled out of fear of causing pain. "Pumpkin, you need to see a doctor."

"We've been over this, Lily," the courier replied, attempting to skirt around the nightkin that blocked their way. "It hurts, but I work through it, and I always come out on top of whatever caused it."

"Sweetness, you're bleeding." Lily finally located a portion of the courier that wasn't in danger of extra bruising and took hold of them, sweeping them up into a gentle fireman's carry. "We'll go visit that nice Waking Cloud lady and get you fixed up."

"Lily, put me down!" The courier squirmed atop the super mutant. To the surprise of everyone involved, they managed to unbalance her enough to send both of them tumbling to the cave floor.

Joshua Graham looked down at the courier, who was wrestling for control of their leg in order to escape Lily's grasp. "God protect you," he said, but it wasn't clear who he was speaking to.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Mij@." Raul approached the courier carefully, trying to locate all of their new bumps and scrapes. He was more than familiar with their latest attempts to prove their own strength, but it pained him to see them like this. Still, he knew better than to try to force medicine into them, now. "Estoy aquí para ti. Can I help?"

They tensed for a moment, as he'd expected, but a few more soothing words sent their shoulders back down. "Sí. I'm... I'm tired."

Ignoring the Burned Man's protests, Raul claimed the room's chair and carried it over to them. They eased into it, wincing slightly but still clinging to their belongings. Raul convinced them to hand their weapons, pack and bear head over one by one, all the while assuring them that he meant no harm, no offense, no judgment.

"You can't keep doing this, Six," he said, when they finally let him inspect their broken arm. He could see the bone under the skin, out of place in an obvious way that would've had him laid up in bed for weeks.

"I can handle-"

"I know you can." Raul fixed them in his gaze. "I can't."

They smiled sadly. "Lo siento. I'll try to be more careful."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass rolled her eyes. "Figures. Waited until I was asleep, then you ran off to have all the fun on your lonesome. Let's get you cleaned up, Six."

She lunged for the courier, but despite their precarious state they managed to dodge her. "Uh-uh. I'm invincible. You're gonna ruin it."

"Invincible?" Cass dashed to block their escape. "Sure, you can probably still kick my ass, but you sure as hell can't outrun me."

"Might the pair of you take this little game outside," Graham grumbled from his seat.

"Shut it, Burnt Man," Cass shot back.

The courier couldn't help but giggle at that. "Burned. Burned Man."

"Oh, you're gonna give me grammar lessons?" Cass lunged again and managed to seize a handful of the courier's tattered coat. "Give them to me up close. I dare you."

In response, the courier grabbed Cass' arm with their broken one and easily flung her around them in a circle, until she went somersaulting away onto the ground. "There's lesson one."

Cass sat up and jammed her hat back on her head. "Fine. Damn."

Veronica Santangelo: "How are you walking?!?" Veronica stared, open-mouthed, at the bloody figure in the cave entrance.

The courier shrugged, then winced at their own movement. "Does it matter? I'm alive."

"Yeah, but life won't be much of a comfort if you don't get some of those fractures set right." Veronica rose from her bed roll and approached them carefully. Her eyes flickered from wound to wound, and she tutted as she drew back the loose pieces of fabric that the yao guai had ripped to shreds. "Get over here and make yourself useful, Graham. Six, you probably shouldn't be awake when I start putting you back together."

They withdrew their limp arm from her grasp firmly. "Leave it be. It gave me the energy I needed to finish the thing off."

"Adrenaline will do that," Veronica agreed. "But its shelf life is short. Pretty soon you're going to be wishing that bear took your head off. Graham, I meant what I said, go find me some boiled water and bandages or I'll personally deliver your location to Caesar myself."

"Caesar is well aware of my current whereabouts," Graham replied evenly. "You would do well to listen to the Scribe, courier."

"Both of you?" The courier deflated. "Fine. Just get me a drink before you start moving bones around."

ED-E: The eyebot beeped in an alarmed manner as the courier swayed on their feet. It swiveled its dome between the injured friend and the bandaged man, who caught the movement and shook his head. "While you were updating your programming, your master was testing the limits of their own abilities, robot. It is not my place to interfere."

ED-E made a flat blaaaaat sound at him that sounded scornful, and floated over to the courier's side. The courier laughed. "Don't worry about me, little guy. It takes more than one yao guai to ruin my day."

Rex: The scent of the yao guai's and the courier's blood filled Rex's nostrils, and he rose from his sleeping hollow with a whine, unsure. When the courier beckoned him, he trotted over and began licking their visible wounds, sparing a growl here and there for the yao guai head that hung on their back.

Graham regarded the cyberdog with something akin to affection. "He senses your pain, courier. You would do well to set him at ease."

"He's seen me closer to death than this," they replied, scratching the dog behind the ears with their good arm. "And if the White Legs hear about the courier who walks through broken bones, maybe they'll think twice about attacking the people I'm friends with."

[silentprincess17]

The Perils of Swimming

This fic is a collab between me and the wonderfully talented artist @neivaloz on tumblr! Check out her awesome artwork that accompanies this fic! I love how we inspired each other and I look forward to more!

Summary: Link agrees to go swimming with Zelda when she gets her body back. He does not think this through, because there is one major problem: he can't swim.

Read on AO3 here!

Now that the sea in Aboda Village was directly in front of him, with Zelda no longer a ghost and made of flesh and skin, her promise of taking him out to swim actually a reality and not a passing comment at Papuchia Village, Link was beginning to regret the rashness with which he had said yes.

He hadn’t expected her to actually take it seriously. In the throes of the whirlwind adventure, he hadn’t anticipated she would actively remember, let alone take it to heart- it was now... four months since they had reclaimed the Ocean Realm? Which means it was roughly two months since they defeated Malladus. Towards the end, time seemed to fuse together, and life boiled down to essentially overcoming whatever barrier was in their way at the time. First it was restoring the tracks, then obtaining the Compass, followed by the Bow of Light and finally entering the Dark Realm to fight Malladus with the Lokomo Sword strapped to his back. By the time they reached the Compass, Link had more or less lost all notion of time, as Zelda and he grew progressively more panicked with each setback and it became an increasingly hectic race to save her body…

Link had chosen to stick with his engineering, primarily. He still felt he was more of a rookie soldier who only knew how to perform vague attacks that just so happened to work out in his favour, and without Zelda’s help as a Phantom he most certainly would have failed from the get-go. With that in mind, he chose to continue with what he had trained for up until now: to pilot the trains with mechanical engineering as his mainstay. Still, he didn’t want to completely lose what sword skills he had developed, so he regularly stopped at Hyrule Castle to train with Captain Russel and his guards. (The latter was really just an excuse to see Zelda before. Or afterwards. Most of the time it was both.)

And yesterday, Friday night, was one of those times he had gone to training, visiting Zelda before he supposedly went home for the weekend.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to insist on coming with him back to Aboda Village. He would never refuse her anything, and he assumed she might have wanted to meet Alfonso, or Niko, or really just visit his hometown, and he had agreed, staying at the castle that night. Zelda had long since given him a room close to hers, as a “more convenient place to stay” seeing how central the castle was to the rest of Hyrule.

Taking all that together, it was a surprise when she dragged him across to the small beach, where the sun sparkled against the deep blue sea, unclasped her belt that had the small sash attached to it, and pulled her dress off.

He gaped, before hurriedly turning away, “Zel! What are you doing?!”

“Taking my dress off silly, I’ve got my swimsuit underneath! We’re going swimming! I’ve finally, finally, caught up with the paperwork that accumulated whilst we were on our journey, and I finished my lessons in advance this week, for this reason! I know it’s not Papuchia, but there’s always a next time!”

What? Swimming? NEXT TIME?!

Nope, he had to ignore that for now. There was the issue of surviving the first-time round.

Because the idiot that he was, he couldn’t swim!

He lived in what was basically a seaside town, and yet, he couldn’t even paddle in the water, let alone swim.

He would drown as soon as the water reached higher than his neck!

“Link? It’s not too late, is it? I know it’s a little bit later than what I originally intended for when asking you, but there was just so much reordering to do in the Kingdom. Plus, you remember the whole scribing thing we had to undertake; it all took up so much more time than I expected. And then the weather was just awful this past week whenever I had some free time...”

Oh yes, he remembered the scribing. That whole incident had happened a week after their return to the castle, where Link had stayed behind both to physically recover himself from exhaustion and his wounds, and simultaneously help Zelda adjust to the land of the living.

On the first day, she had walked into so many doors and walls he thought she might have concussed herself, she regularly forgot she had to eat, and she didn’t have any fear of heights, despite the fact that falling with a body had pretty serious consequences. Consequently, Link felt honour bound to try to help her to remember she was, in fact, Hylian, and as such susceptible to many perils that she seemed to have forgotten over the course of the long months she spent as a spirit. Plus, she was very cute, and he blushed every time he felt her grip his hand excitedly, or drag his arm towards a bookshelf, or give him impromptu hugs for helping her.

Niko had cornered them after a week, wondering where Link had gotten too. When he found the two of them nibbling on sweet buns from Castle Town, a book on maps wedged firmly on their thighs, Link’s arm resting on the panel just above her shoulders; Niko had pulled a right fit. He had fussed over Link before declaring he would now create a tapestry to commemorate the newest iteration of legendary events. And that had taken the better part of two weeks to complete, and was now referred to as the “scribing” by Zelda and him.

“Link! Are you going to change your clothes or not? That’s the second reason why I didn’t drag you to Papuchia, because I forgot to tell you to pack your trunks.” She paused, “You do have trunks, right?”

No, no he didn’t. He’d just sacrifice an old pair of cargo pants he had. It would be fine. Probably. He made a vague motion towards his house, before deciding to put the Hero’s cap on. It would hopefully hold some of his hair back, and it would bring him luck on this death quest he was about to embark on.

Why?

Why did he put himself through this?

He sighed. He knew the answer.

This was all because he couldn’t say no to her.

He shuffled back into his home, Niko popping up whilst he half-heartedly opened his wardrobe and shuffled around some more. Spirits. He didn’t want to go back out. He didn’t want to admit to Zelda he didn’t know how to swim. Worse still, he didn’t want her to think badly of him for living by a seaside town, and yet, never having learnt such an essential skill.

Niko hobbled across on his cane to Link, peering around the wardrobe door.

“What’s with the long face? I thought you’d be excited, bringing the Princess over. Yes boy, I know she’s here, everyone heard the two of you enter town. It’s a small place, Link.”

He fished out an old, half-faded blue pair of shorts. “Zelda wants to go swimming, Niko.”

Niko’s eyes widened, “What? But you-”

Link slammed the wardrobe door shut with perhaps more force than necessary. “I know.”

Niko hesitated, before he placed a gnarled hand on Link’s shoulder. “I have a question for you Link… Do you know of any of Princess Zelda’s weaknesses?”

Well, that one was easy. “She’s absolutely terrified of mice. She will literally jump into my arms, or onto my back, to escape them.” He chuckled, “Even as a giant Phantom, three times my height, she couldn’t come near one.” He hesitated, thinking back to their recent conversations on her balcony under the stars, “She’s also scared of not doing well... but I guess this is a fear we all have…”

“That’s your answer then, Link.”

Huh? Why would knowing what Zelda was scared of make any difference?

“I can see you are still confused. Let me make it clearer. Did you judge the Princess for having those failings? Did you at any point think less of her?”

He vehemently shook his head, before stopping midway as it finally sunk in.

Oh.

Niko simply tapped his cane against the floor twice, before ambling off. “I’ll make some fried chicken for you both. One always gets hungry after swimming in the sea.”

Link scrambled into his shorts, and then ran out, just as Zelda walked up to meet him. “You were gone for an awfully long time, Link. I don’t want to imagine how disorganised your wardrobe is-”

The words bubbled out, “Zelda I don’t know how to swim.”

“-at least you’ve got some… are those even trunks? Well-”

“Zelda.” He grabbed her hand, shaking her arm a little, “Zelda!”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

She stared, stupefied. “Why didn’t you say? I would have brought my floats!”

It was his turn to gape. “Floats?”

She waved her hands in the air. “You know those things you use to keep you upright in the water.” A frown grew on her face, “Wait, does everyone here not know how to swim? That’s quite dangerous! We’ll have to change that.”

She shook her head, gently clasped his hand, pulling him along, “But that’s for later. I’ll teach you today, Link, if you want?”

He nodded, and she smiled.

“Let’s start off with paddling first, and then progress to basic kicks!”

Time flew by again, as he started off gently peddling his feet in the water, arms spread out wide, head just about jutting above the water line as he hovered, suspended in the sea, for the first time. Once he’d mastered just holding his weight in the water they proceeded onto kicks. That involved first thrashing his legs whilst gripping onto the ridge of land to hold himself in place. Then he advanced to doing one leg at a time like a proper swimming pattern. Zelda wrapped her arms around his middle, and he had a go at moving both arms and legs in synchrony.

He was surprised she could carry him, “Link, I do exercise you know. I’m not just a fluffy Princess. Being a Phantom was quite the experience.”

She heaved him higher, and he spluttered in the water, thrashing his arms a bit at the unexpected heave, “I liked being strong, and being able to help you. So, I’m going to do the best I can with my current body too. You never know, it might prove useful on our next adventure!”

He could only smile. He thanked the Spirits for giving him the chance to meet Zelda. For going on their convoluted journey. For having her as his best friend.

Soon enough, she gently let go of him, and moved to interlock her fingers with his hands as she guided him through the waves, his legs doing the measured, purposeful kicks they had practised.

He was so focussed, he hadn’t at all noticed Alfonso on the shore, until he called out to them, probably wondering what Link was even doing in the water. Zelda told Link to keep on kicking his legs as she slowly walked backwards, screamed back that he was okay and that he was learning to swim. Both of them cringed as they heard Alfonso guffaw loudly and watched as he shook his head, walking off towards the station.

“Well, we’re nearly there, Link!” She loosened her grip on his left hand, moving to clasp his wrist instead, “I’m barely holding onto you! You’re doing it! You’re swimming!”

And he gave her the biggest smile he could, as she slowly let go, wading backwards, and he swam by himself towards her, for the very first time.

Suddenly, the idea of doing this again was no longer so horrifying.

What was there to worry about when he had Zelda, his partner, his best friend, by his side?

[monsterywriting]

Thenerius - pt 4

masterlist

word count: 7,146

AN: slight warning for mentions of animal death/general farm stuff. i tried not to write anything too graphic, but i realize what may seem pg for me may not be for everyone! i think i made up for it in the end, though :)

When you arrived back home from Alfore, you made a beeline to your room, leaving Thenerius to unload what you bought. From your desk, you grab a few blank sheets of paper from your stack and a pen, writing out a list of chores for Thenerius to do with detailed instructions underneath each numbered task.

By the time you finished and returned back outside to meet Thenerius, you’d filled out two of the papers front and back.

“Do you know how to read?” You ask as you hold out the papers for him to take.

“Of course,” he scoffs as he does, scanning the pages.

You blink at his unexpected reaction, attempting to alleviate his defensiveness, “No shame if you couldn’t. Some of the wealthiest people in the capital couldn’t. That’s what they hired so many scribes for.”

“Well, I said I can,” Thenerius not quite snapped, but he was clearly getting more wound up from you pushing the subject. You realized too late that your response came across as skeptic.

“All right. I put the faster jobs first and the longer ones last,” you say instead, opting to smooth over the topic entirely, “Don’t worry about finishing all of it today, I just wrote what I could think of. I’ll be back.”

“Wait, you’re leaving again so soon?” Thenerius looked up from the list at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I have to go to The Deep,” you reply, “It will be fast, just returning something and coming back.”

“What about the rabbits?” He asked, following you into the barn. You had nearly forgotten, the four creatures sitting quietly in their cage sitting in the barn.

“Clear out one of the empty stables and put them in there. All they need is hay and clean water for now,” you worry your bottom lip before continuing, “I don’t… normally leave so often when I’m not working.”

You’re not sure where the need to explain yourself comes from, nor why you feel placated when Thenerius seemingly accepts it.

You clear your throat, taking Horse by his reins and walking out the barn, “Then you can get started on that list.”

Horse makes it immediately clear he isn’t happy to be ridden again so soon - testing your commands to move and only going forward when you press your heels into his belly - but you know he’ll calm down once you reach The Deep and bribe him with a sack full of oats.

You enter The Deep in record time through the side door near the stables that lead directly into the kitchens. There was no one in there besides the new girl, who jumped and nearly collided into the large pot she stood in front of when she turned around to see you standing there, collecting herself and whispering a near inaudible ‘hello’.

She was painfully shy and as quiet as a mouse, and you couldn’t remember her name despite knowing you’d been introduced before. She couldn’t meet your gaze directly, something you knew not to take personally as she avoided everyone’s. You couldn’t help but wonder what she would do once the tavern got busy and all available hands were needed taking and serving orders.

“I need to find Lenora,” you interrupt her rambled apologies, having no patience waiting for the girl to form a sentence, “Is she in her room?”

“Uh—actually, Mr. Thistle is looking for you,” she said, shrinking back when you blinked at her - as though you were a ticking bomb waiting to blow. It dawned on you that this was not her normal aversion to social situations, realizing everyone already knew you spat with Lenora earlier. Great.

“I understand,” you say as gently as you can, “but I need to speak with Lenora, first.”

You emphasize speak, and after a moment’s hesitation, the girl nodded, looking around before whispering, “Mr. Thistle is working at the bar right now. You have to go back around to the main entrance.”

You nod your appreciation, stepping back out and going back around the building to the entrance to the inn portion, passing the main desk with a nod to the person working and climbing up the stairs. You knock softly on Lenora’s door, not wanting to draw the attention of Mr. Thistle, who had full view of you standing on the balcony if he were to look up.

As soon as you hear the door unlock, you push your way in and close it behind you, pausing once you see Lenora’s tear-streaked face. You had been until that point rehearsing what you would say, only planning on saying your piece and then leaving. Now, however, the words eluded you, seeming simultaneously too far and too little. When you finally managed to push them out, it was with a much less certain execution than you had imagined.

“I brought back your coins,” you fish the coin purse out of your bodice and force it into Lenora’s hands, “If you were meaning to trick me into taking them, you shouldn’t have used the embroidered one I gave you.”

Lenora turned over the small bag, her mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ once she saw the leaping frog, her thumb running over the vibrantly colored thread.

“Thenerius told me you thought I was… troubled. In the mind,” you continue awkwardly, going off script, the impromptu speech bursting forth now that you were in front of your friend, “I- I understand your concern. It doesn’t excuse what you did - it was incredibly stupid - but I understand it.”

“You’re right,” Lenora sniffled, tears gathering anew in her already red eyes, “I know I don’t deserve to ask for your forgiveness, but I just didn’t know how to get through to you—so I made a decision. A bad one, that only brought you trouble.

“I heard you speaking with Mr. Thistle that day. How you needed more shifts and- and gold. I knew you wouldn’t any of out help so I thought… Thenerius would be the best bet to help.”

“I’m not… as angry,” you finally admit, taking a long pause to take in the information and form an opinion. It’s true. You know firsthand that worry and desperation can drive a person to take drastic measures, and though you can’t forgive Lenora entirely just yet, you can’t fault her in trying to help.

“Has Thenerius come back to the inn already? I’m sorry I didn’t think matters through-”

“No,” you shake your head, wording the next sentence out of your mouth very carefully, “Actually, he’s staying with us for now. He agreed to work for room and board.”

“What?!” Lenora exclaimed, her recalcitrance forgotten for the moment with the potential gossip, “Tell me everything! Have you slept together yet?”

“Not telling,” you smile coyly, trying your best to come across as though you’re hiding the most passionate night of your life, the full details of which filled with debauchery just waiting for a listening ear, “That’s your punishment.”

You leave Lenora there, her pleas for mercy and just a yes or no falling on deaf ears. Rather than head back out the main entrance, however, you go to the stairs leading down into the tavern, Mr. Thistle immediately noticing you from the bar and watching your descent closely.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you until your next shift,” he said as soon as you reached the bar counter, wasting no time getting straight to the point with his usual bluntness, “What happened between you and Lenora?”

“Personal matters, boss,” you reply with a glance at the lone customer sitting on the far end of the bar, “Sorry it happened at work. It won’t happen again.”

A blatant lie. A week couldn’t pass without someone getting annoyed at someone else at work and starting fights - most much more eventful and public than your and Lenora’s brief exchange of words.

Mr. Thistle looked up at the balcony, then at you, “I take it that means everything has already been settled. I don’t suppose you would be willing to tell me what exactly it was about, then?”

“Nope,” you answer cheerfully, “Now, it’s my day off and you very specifically said you did not want to see me for a whole week, so I’ll leave you to it.”

You could hear Mr. Thistle mutter something about how you all always closed ranks on him once you headed towards the kitchen, but he waved you off nonetheless.

“Wait!” You stopped at the sudden call of your name, just about to step outside, turning to see Lenora and the other girl holding a wrapped cylinder. Food.

You accept the gift with a nod, stepping out into the courtyard with a vastly improved state of mind and a considerable weight off your shoulders, ready to return home and finally eat.

When you do return once again for hopefully the final time that week, Thenerius was hammering away on the barn roof.

You hop off of Horse, looking up at the tiefling in disbelief. Replacing the old shingles had been the seventh or eighth item on your list and you hadn’t been gone long. You couldn’t believe Thenerius could have finished every task before that one in the time it took you to go to The Deep and back.

When he noticed your arrival, Thenerius made his way down the ladder to meet you leading Horse into the barn, still carrying the meal Lenora had packed for you. He was drenched in sweat and had shred his outer layers despite the frigid air, the sun beating down thanks to the cloudless sky.

“You’ve already finished the first page?” You called out once he was within hearing range, hopping off the last rung of the ladder and onto solid ground.

“First page?” He echoes questioningly, your stomach sinking until he lets out a sharp bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You let out the breath you had held, looking out at the rest of the homestead, “You mended the fences?”

“Yes.”

“Cleaned out the chicken litter?”

“Did that first.”

“Then took it to the compost?”

“If you’d like, you can go through the list yourself to check,” Thenerius offered, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

“No. No, that’s fine,” you reply, embarrassed by your own micromanaging before remembering the food and holding it up, “I brought lunch. Go rinse off in the river or something while I reheat this.”

The house is much warmer than outside, your mother or Thenerius apparently taking advantage of the new firewood.

Thenerius enters the house just as you’re setting down the plates, looking like an illustration from a strip in a newspaper you remember seeing once - a man who fell into a freezing lake and becomes an icicle.

You peer out the window, barely noticing how dark it suddenly was, clouds obscuring the sun and the tops of the trees bowing to the wind - certainly making the trek back from the river miserable.

“Go sit in front of the fire, quickly,” you wince half with pity, grabbing one of his folded blankets and throwing it around the tiefling’s shoulders as soon as he was seated in the warm glow of the fire, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would get cloudy.”

“How the hell can anyone get in that water?” Thenerius gritted out through chattering teeth, shivering uncontrollably now that he was beginning to thaw out, “I think my stones are still inside my body…”

“The water feels quite nice in the summer,” your mother suddenly appears behind you, both you and Thenerius twisting around to stare at her slack-jawed. Her response to the former made it clear she had heard the latter comment.

You can’t contain your laughter, doubling over when you turn and see Thenerius’ mortified expression - and your mother’s amusement with the situation only fueled your own. It gave you the perfect excuse to not see how he watches you, his embarrassed grimace fading into a soft smile at your mirth while your mother watches the entire interaction with an unreadable expression.

You know she immediately catches on to the significance of Thenerius’ meaningful look, the entire reason for his sudden appearance into your lives undoubtedly obvious to her now.

“Everybody go sit,” you are still slightly winded by your outburst but considerably subdued as you walk over to your chair and plop down, taking a sip from your ale - a generous addition to the peace offering from Lenora.

The smell of the warm stew was heavenly for your senses - beef tips, carrot and potatoes all cooked in bone broth - making your mouth water at the sight. Cows were rare in these parts, Mr. Thistle the only owner of a herd for miles. Beef was the primary dish of The Deep, Mr. Thistle also offering deliveries during the holidays for those who had the gold to spend on it.

“Did Lenora make this?” Your mother breathed in deeply, both her and Thenerius clearly having the same reaction to the food as you did.

You shake your head, wasting no time taking a spoonful in your mouth, “The new girl. Applied to be a barmaid, but truthfully, her talents are as a cook.”

“The quiet one?” Your mother smiled knowingly, “I must agree she’s much better than you or I, though you’ve been making some improvements.”

You roll your eyes at the teasing jab, mirroring her smile as you chuckled. You weren’t a bad cook, but you were no chef, your own cooking style having only a goal of ‘edible’, “I helped in part, at least - harvesting the meat.”

“You slaughtered the animal?” Thenerius interjects - no judgement in his tone but definitely curiosity.

“Of course,” you laugh, nearly choking on your ale in the process, “Where do you think all the meat you’ve been eating comes from? A grocer?”

The conversation continues easily, your bellies filling with seconds and then thirds with ale still left over. You notice that Thenerius stops drinking long before your mother or you. It’s because he isn’t in the company of his crew, you try to tell yourself, but you can’t help the feeling of guilt that gnaws at you saying otherwise - that he was able to stop now that you weren’t continuously serving him.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” your mother grunts, gathering the empty plates before you can even think about getting up. You’re all too happy to let her, glad to see her so invigorated for the first time in a long while. You yourself feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, the sheer amount of food you consumed beckoning for you to take a nap.

“I should keep working on the list, too,” Thenerius said, beginning to rise.

You place your hand on the crook of his elbow to stop him, “You’ve been up since before dawn and you’ve gotten plenty done today. You shouldn’t overwork yourself now.”

“I’ve had harder jobs. I can handle some farm work,” Thenerius snorted, dismissing your advice and standing without so much as a grunt as though to prove his point, “I’m a pirate, remember?.”

You shrug, too sleepy to seriously argue with his pride. Farm work was definitely different to manning a boat with the wind and current doing most of the work. And he also had an entire crew to rely on - here it was just him and you. The first day you worked on the homestead after so many years, you hadn’t been able to get out of bed the next day. However, you decide as Thenerius leaves to finish the shingles, it was no skin off your back if he woke up sore the next day. Either way, he was still going to work - he had to help you castrate the goats, along with all the other daily chores and whatever you wouldn’t get to on the list today.

You grab two woven baskets from the kitchen and go outside soon after Thenerius leaves, wishing the sun was still out as you walk to the vegetable garden downhill behind the pasture, a buffer between the animals’ waste and the river when it rained.

The rest of your very short afternoon is spent there, meticulously going down each row on your hands and knees pulling out the seemingly endless weeds that grew in your absence, tossing them onto the grass. Once you were confident that you got every last sprout, you began to harvest some of the tubers, yielding a good amount of carrots, potatoes and even a few onions.

Once the sun kissed the treetops and you were engulfed in the shadow of the barn from where you worked in the garden, you began the long process of drawing a bath, hauling bucket after bucket to the house. The sun sets by the time you finish, the water steaming invitingly. Your mother goes first, and you enter right after her.

You relax in the hot water, perfectly contented with your day and more at ease than you had been in a long time, something you couldn’t have imagined when Thenerius first showed up at your home and upended your quiet existence. You look up at the heavens, still able to make out the vast array of stars even through the steam rising to the sky. You watch in quiet awe for a while, only absentmindedly attending to actually bathing.

You only just stepped out the bathroom when Thenerius finally returns, your mother nearly done with dinner.

He seemed in high spirits, nowhere near as fatigued as you had been on your first day. You would never admit that you were wrong to Thenerius, but you definitely weren’t complaining if it meant he would be able to work the next day.

You go  to sleep early, eating while Thenerius was bathing and fast asleep by the time he gets out, tired after all the running around and the emotional mountains and valleys you endured with Lenora.

You don’t dream that night, waking suddenly with the sun still well below the horizon and the rooster not yet crowing his song. You get up anyways, actually feeling well-rested and not nearly as dreadful as you normally did after your days off, having done admittedly little hard labor yourself that day.

After changing into clean day clothes, you trudge into the kitchen to make coffee, Thenerius still snoring in his cot as you pass. He sleeps through the rooster’s first crow, and you let him rest until the morning fog receded from the field and the sky brightened from a dim gray to silver just before the sun broke the horizon.

When you finally do rouse him - first whispering his name and then shaking his shoulder - Thenerius startles, a pained groan leaving him before any coherent word. You hide your smirk, knowing now was not the time for an ‘I told you so’ no matter how deserved, simply waiting patiently for Thenerius to stretch his back, four distinct pops his reward.

“Have some coffee, then meet me in the barn,” you say quietly, waiting to leave until Thenerius nods in acknowledgement, with obvious difficulty.

It was freezing outside, the temperature having dropped significantly overnight, but you forgo your new fur coat, not wanting to get blood on it. You get the hardest part of the entire process done first - separating the three male kids from the herd. You let them out of their stable and into the larger barn area, the group going straight to the far door out of habit. Instead of releasing them immediately out to pasture, you picked out and carried each boy one by one into the empty stall next to the rabbits before letting the rest out and shutting the door behind them. The kids weren’t happy, bleating loudly and standing on their hind legs at the stall door to try to see where their mothers had gone, but the rabbits seemed unperturbed by their temporary neighbors as they continued nibbling their hay.

Thenerius trudges slowly in as you’re putting the loudest two month old in the tipping table, bags like bruises under his eyes.

“You’ll be helping me castrate the boys today,” you announce, handing Thenerius a pump bottle of brown liquid, “This is antiseptic. Your job is to spray them with it afterwards.”

Thenerius glances as the cleaned and sharpened knife in your hand and then at the goat on the table, appearing confused, “You mean-?”

You waste no time, not wanting to keep the kid restricted and stressed longer than necessary, rubbing a numbing paste on the area before making the first incision.

Thenerius is pale as he sprays the final goat, all blood drained from his face as you right the table and release him to waddle back to the large stable to join the other two. You wipe your hands the best you can on your skirt before handing Thenerius the bucket with the discarded testes to give to the chickens. He looks shellshocked, no doubt empathizing with the emasculated goats, even if his pain was an entirely different sort.

“I’ll give you the list of daily chores you’ll be needing to do from now on, then you can get started on whatever you didn’t finish on the list yesterday,” you said, not at all reveling in Thenerius’ stricken look, knowing he couldn’t argue with you after you had so specifically warned him about the very pain he was currently experiencing.

Before anything else, you check to make sure the goats had plenty of hay to feed on since they wouldn’t be out grazing for a while. After washing the blood from your hands and knife, you spend the morning fencing off the area on the side of the barn where the rabbits were kept, the temporary housing working out so well you decided to make it permanent rather than make a hutch from scratch. You would simply cut out a door in the side of the barn that could be opened to let them out to graze in the miniature pasture in the spring. You dug out holes for the fence posts, your plan to eventually make a fence of chickenwire high enough none of the rabbits would be able to jump over it.

Once you were done plotting out the fence, you began the tedious process of tilling the soil inside the fenced area, careful to keep the chunks of pure sod undisturbed. In the newly bare patches, you planted the leftover winter pea seeds from the main pasture.

By the time noon came and went, you had largely forgotten about Thenerius, lost in your work and only catching fleeting glimpses of him in your periphery; a colorful phantom standing out amongst the washed out wood and bluestem grass even more so than he did in the homely atmosphere of the tavern. He flitted around the property, first in the chicken coop, then in the pasture and, finally, nowhere.

You don’t realize how much time had elapsed since you last saw hide or hair of him until you took a quick reprieve to get your mother’s tablets ready with a glass of water. It suddenly struck you that you hadn’t seen him pass by the kitchen window at all in the time you’d been standing there, and when you peer out more closely, the only movement you could see was the animals lazily grazing in the pasture. His horse was still grazing with all the rest, so he hadn’t taken off. You try to think of the last time you saw him, but the brief flashes all blended together.

You left the tablets and water on the nightstand next to the bed where your mother rested and went out to milk the goats, mostly filling two pails and then going into the barn - only intending to pasteurize it and having no other motive besides perhaps making sure you didn’t accidentally kill your farmhand on his second day.

Thenerius was standing in the center of what appeared to be a wood scrap pile, staring down incredibly exasperated at his list. You caught a glimpse of a sketch you recognized immediately, having forgotten you’d asked Thenerius to build a rabbit hutch.

Unsure how to say nevermind when he was already working on it - and clearly frustrated with it - you instead walk in with the two pails and interrupt his concentration, “Come help me with this, Thenerius.”

He drops everything to take the pales from you, and you suspect it had less to do with his desire to help you than being able to take a break from building. You let him, grabbing the bottoms of the pails so they wouldn’t jostle as much during the transfer.

“The pasteurizer is over there,” you point, ignoring the giant pile and walking to the small metal contraption. Lifting the lid, you take out the funnel and seven metal bottles from the wire cage inside the main chamber, setting them down on the floor and sticking the funnel into the first bottle. You gestured for Thenerius to pour, moving through each bottle until both pails were emptied.

You place the filled bottles back into their wire slots and pointing at the pails, “Go wash those out and bring back water.”

“But the hutch-” Thenerius trailed off, looking at the unfinished scraps of wood.

“It’s fine, this needs to be done first,” you assure him, motioning for him to go.

Once he leaves, you go to the pile and grab small pieces of wood, sticking them in the chamber underneath the pasteurizer along with some hay. When Thenerius returns, you take the pails and begin filling the main chamber, stopping once the bottles were almost submerged and striking a match to light the hay.

You step back from the soon to be hot metal once you place the lid back on, keeping a close eye on the thermometer.

“You don’t have to make the hutch anymore. I’m just going to keep them in the stall,” you finally admit as you wait.

Despite still working as hard as he did the day before, it was evident that Thenerius was in pain, taking care not to move too much and antsy as he stood behind you.

“You can sit, you know. This is going to take a while.”

“I’m afraid if I sit I won’t be able to get back up,” Thenerius replies, his grim expression unchanging even when you burst into laughter.

“Suit yourself, then. You could always end the day early. Honestly, you’ve done more these past two days than I would be able to do in a month.”

Even your rare praise isn’t able to convince Thenerius, who resolutely denies your offer to rest. Deciding to get dinner started as the sun lowered in the sky, you instruct Thenerius when and how to close the bottom chamber and where the mitts were to take out the wire cage so he could bring the milk to you in the kitchen.

Later that evening, Thenerius all but collapsed into the chair next to you, favoring one leg where one of the goats rammed into his side when he was herding them back into the barn. Earlier, you had considered asking him to also draw the bath, but seeing how ravenously he ate his cold dinner, you were glad you had taken pity on him and done it yourself, your mother already out the bath.

“Go wash up,” you prod his leg with the side of your foot, careful not to hit it too hard.

Groaning, Thenerius painstakingly rose back to his feet and you could have sworn you heard him utter a few curses under his breath as he shed his boots and jacket at the door before trudging to the bathroom.

You enter a few minutes later unannounced, Thenerius immediately splashing down chin-deep into the water in an attempt to hide himself, stammering nonsense at your sudden appearance.

“Calm down, I just brought you some magnesium sulfate and scented oils,” you interrupt sternly, setting your supplies down and sitting on the edge of the tub directly behind Thenerius, who had turned away from you.

You pour a generous amount of the salt into the bath, enough that the water becomes opaque. However, before you add the oil, you hesitate, noticing Thenerius’ back is still streaked with dirt too stubborn to be rinsed away. You tell yourself to just pour in the oil anyways, or even just leaving it there to do himself

“Lean forward,” you find yourself saying instead, grabbing a clean washcloth and dunking it in the water, “You missed your back.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I don’t want to have to clean up dirt after you.” The words come out a bit harsher than you mean them to be, but you succeed in getting Thenerius to comply with your command, his chest submerged under the steaming water and exposing his back.

Scars of all kinds were scattered all over his skin, some paper-thin lines of lavender with the passage of time while others were a deep red wine - old burns and bullet holes. You lathered the bar soap into the washcloth, but your attention kept returning to the raised and puckered skin the width of your forefinger, ten overlapping stripes horizontal across the expanse of his back. The remnants of a particularly brutal lashing.

“You’ve never told me the story behind these,” you murmur, pressing the sudsy cloth against his shoulder blade at the very edge of the topmost scar, the ridge much more pronounced than the others; likely the first. You feel the phantom pain in your back, easily picturing the painful healing process. Thenerius had always bragged to you about his scars, but you never saw these particular ones - never even been shown his back, for that matter.

“I was young when I got them. Stupid,” Thenerius said, the bitterness in his voice melting into a soft sigh as you rubbed small circles around his shoulder blades.

Thenerius thankfully made no comment as you purposefully moved the cloth down his back, at first only to remove the dirt, but soon losing sight of your mission and working out the knots of his muscles, every so often splashing warm water up to rinse it. You loosened the tension in one area before moving on to the next, continuing long after all the dirt was washed away. He could not, however, hide the small sounds that escaped whenever you brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.

Your feel increasingly embarrassed with every hiss and grunt, but you continue on, guiltily enjoying every noise elicited by your hand, seeing just the back of his head leaving you only able to envision how he reacted - eyes screwed shut, lips falling open ever so slightly. Your imagination ran wild when your knuckles brushed against his side and he moaned.

It had been out of pain, the flesh bruised from goat horns, but your face burns and you swallow thickly nonetheless. You quickly finish, stopping right where his back meets the water and quickly turned to wring out the washcloth and drop it in the basin. Unable to meet Thenerius’ eyes just yet, you smell each bottle of oil, using your feigned deliberation as an excuse to keep your back to him.

Finally grabbing the first bottle after smelling each twice. It was citrusy, with the faintest hint of some herb, you think.

“Soak with this for a bit. It’ll help with the soreness,” you clear your throat, handing over the bottle. Thenerius had been falling asleep with your ministrations, but now snapped awake with the cold glass making contact with his palm.

“I shouldn’t- you still need to bathe and the water will be cold,” Thenerius begins to argue, rising from the water the slightest bit without realizing it, but you act quickly, pressing your hands down on his shoulders to keep him submerged.

“If you don’t, you won’t even be able to get up tomorrow,” the gentleness in your voice feels foreign, but it is sincere, “I know a lot about these things. Trust me, it can get a whole lot worse.”

Thenerius immediately relaxed under your touch, leaning his head back onto the rim of the tub and the points of his horns stopping on either side of your head, fortunately his eyes closed so he could not see you staring wide-eyed down at him. It took all your willpower to keep your palms rooted in their spot, your fingers itching to move lower. It would be a simple thing, to just… glide your hands down his chest, over his stomach - resting your chin on his shoulder - and wrapping a fist around his—

You are brought abruptly back into reality when Thenerius’ soft snores reach you, extracting your hands like a burn and quickly pouring the oil into the water. Once the bottle is empty, you quietly abscond.

It’s nearly half an hour before Thenerius finally exits, apologizing profusely. You had been pacing in the living room clutching your night clothes, avoiding every creaky floorboard with well-practiced coordination. As soon as he steps out of your way, you brush past the tiefling and shut the door.

The water is frigid, which you’re glad for, intent on freezing the molten heat that had grown in your core. You don’t know what’s come over you. Dangerous ideas consumed you the entire time you waited, impulses made all the more tempting with the knowledge that Thenerius wanted you; your mind twisted the memory of his confession into words of desire and his innocent noises into pleasured moans.

You scrubbed the dried sweat and grime off of you with just a little too much vigor, your attempt at grounding your beating heart. As soon as you’re finished, you pulled the plug and scrambled out the tub, quickly toweling off and getting dressed.

When you exit, Thenerius is seated on his cot, holding a steaming mug. You had been planning on going straight into the bedroom, but upon hearing the bathroom door open, your mother came from the kitchen, immediately seeing you and holding up a mug for you. Your stomach dropped. You had assumed she’d been asleep as she’d gone into the bedroom immediately after getting out the bath, and now wondered how long she’d actually been awake - if she had noticed the time you spent alone in the bathroom with Thenerius.

Out of habit, you take the mug, the smell of hot cocoa spiked with ale drifting lazily to your nose. You thought she would also drink with you. Instead, she walked straight past you towards the bedroom.

“You’re going to bed already?” Your voice is tight in panic at the thought of being left alone with Thenerius, the source of your temporary madness.

“I’m getting old,” she smiled, misinterpreting your question for concern for her health, her voice lowering to just above a whisper as she brought her lips close to your ear, “and I’m not one to stand in the way of young people’s affairs.”

Your gaze bores into the back of Thenerius’ head. Against your better judgement, you carry your mug to the cot, sitting on the very edge to keep your distance.

Blowing on your drink, you take small sips to avoid burning your tongue. Between the hot drink and the crackling fireplace in front of you, you almost forget your own awkwardness, the coziness only possible with the inhospitable winter outside lulling you into a sense of security.

“I was missing out on a lot with this drink,” Thenerius suddenly broke the silence, mirroring your own careful sips.

You temper your reaction, maintaining a smile you pray conveys a completely normal, neutral interest in the conversation, “You’ve never had hot cocoa before?”

“Never had a need. We usually stick to where it’s warm,” Thenerius said and your smile falters slightly at the implication, sobering slightly from your runaway thoughts.

“Why didn’t you leave with the others?”

The abrupt question hangs in the air between you, the pause stretching without Thenerius reacting to the point you wondered if you didn’t actually ask it.

Just as you are about to ask again, Thenerius spoke, slowly but not uncertainly, as though taking a moment to choose each word, an admission that took you entirely by surprise, “I was going to. After your rejection.”

“Why didn’t you?” You sound almost breathless, never before having considered the possibility that your extreme reaction to his proposal would have actually discouraged him. You have assumed that he had arrived with the goal of winning you over. You tried to think of some other possible motive, but you just drew blanks.

“I told you that your friend at the bar asked me to go to you,” he said, waiting until you nodded in acknowledgement before continuing, “At first, I thought she had seen- us. And I got… angry. I was embarrassed and it seemed like she was simply having fun. Then she told me she was worried about you, but that you refused her and everyone else’s offers help. I tried telling her I was the last person you wanted to see, much less accept help from, but she was persistent. Said you were just prickly around the edges, as it were.”

You grimace - a fair assessment, to be sure, but an unpleasant one to be so finely put a point on - but remain silent, digesting the new perspective. You feel dense, not having once considered Thenerius’ feelings about what had transpired between you. You also feel slightly disappointed that it was not his own passion that drove him to seek you out, though you know you have no right to feel hurt, now more than ever.

You down the rest of your cocoa, unsure if the heat or the ale is what burns down your throat, or your own disappointment. Already you could feel your face warm, the sweetness of the drink having hidden the strength of the alcohol.

“I’m sorry.” You’re unsure of what else to say, afraid to elaborate lest you drudge up every negative feeling over what happened.

He only nods, taking a sip from his drink and keeping his gaze fixed on the fire.

“I’ve always wanted to ask this,” blood was rushing through your ears as the ale settled heavily in your belly, making you just a bit bolder, “Why me? I mean—I know Paloma was leaving and she was the one to introduce us, but you seemed- I thought you were in love with her…”

You try to seem nonchalant as Thenerius chuckles, then deliberates, not sure your ego could take another blow tonight and also as if the question was a completely normal thing to ask platonically during a heart to heart with the man who proposed to you only four days ago. Tova have mercy. Had it really only been that long?

“I didn’t love her,” Thenerius finally put you out of your misery after a long stretch of silence, and you cursed the blooming hope in your chest, “She told me she was quitting. And why—she was in love. What was between us was not… it wasn’t the same. I didn’t know that at the time, I was just selfish, thought of her as mine even though I didn’t consider myself hers.”

You frown slightly, wanting desperately to pay attention to what Thenerius was sharing - obviously a very delicate and sensitive subject - but you can’t help the illogical wave of jealousy rising within you. He hadn’t known you then, only seeing for a few weeks out of the year after that. You shouldn’t have finished off your drink, too all over the place and unable to get a handle on your own emotions.

“I didn’t understand her then,” Thenerius continued, oblivious to your inner turmoil, “How she described the love she felt - to do things for someone else’s sake, rather than one’s own. And to forsake everything, be unwilling to trade anything for that love.”

It was evident Thenerius was no longer talking about Paloma, but of his own feelings for you. However, he had yet to answer your question and you’re unsure if you trust yourself to elaborate, opting instead to repeat it.

“So why me?”

“I’m not sure,” Thenerius admits sheepishly, “I began talking to you. It was the longest I ever talked to anyone that wasn’t on my crew—and about something that wasn’t about anything in particular. And I saw you interacting with others - the tavern owner, the other workers - when you thought no one was paying attention. You seemed so… carefree. Or just free. You didn’t have to worry about making it to the next port, or if you’d be paid. And when we moved on, I couldn’t think of anyone else, be with anyone else.”

You glance over at Thenerius, feeling incredibly warm, like the heat was rolling off your cheeks in waves. The alcohol had given you a buzz - not enough to be entirely gone, but enough to give you the excuse to throw caution to the wind as you observed Thenerius unabashedly.

His downturned eyes made his eyelashes brush against his cheeks, the strong slope of his nose casting an uneven shadow across his face where it veered slightly from an old break. But your eyes were most drawn to his lips - plump, slightly chapped after the hot shower and the corners tugged down into a frown that you wanted desperately to alleviate.

“What about now?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, and Thenerius seems just as surprised by your question as you do. He doesn’t, however, seem to grasp your implication, if his self-deprecating snort was anything to go by, his next words making your momentarily-fragile heart break for him.

“I completely misunderstood your intentions. I told myself I saw no difference in how you interacted with me and your true friends. And I’m all the more the fool, because I know these things but it has done nothing to curb my useless pining.”

Your countless worries and responsibilities seemed to melt away in that moment, your rational mind telling you a thousand and one reasons not to do what you were about to do holding no power over you. You live in a place where it gets cold, you cannot go with him. But all you could see was Thenerius in front of you, present - a concept you could never before focus on. It was always thinking of the future; what needed to be done, paid for, taken or given.

In the present, you reach out your hand to Thenerius’ cheek furthest from you, turning his gaze from the fire to you. You lean forward, slotting your lips against his softly, but without hesitation.

part 5

[elliewritessometimes]

IT’S @mattieswheelers BIRTHDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

beCAUSE of this, myself and @notsomightymightytiger decided to steal tea leaf’s time travelling mattie au and create a whole entire fic with their ideas and also a design that @ari-is-anxious did a while back!! hope you enjoy aaaaaaa <3333 aLSO stabbies try and spot as many starboard references as you can heheheh 

this can be read on ao3 here if you prefer the format :)

tw: swearing, murder (it’s minor and resolved tho jsgh), religion (nicco my love read with care), blood, i really hope i haven’t missed anything please do let me know if i missed anything

-

Mattie had always been able to time travel. For as long as she could remember, her walk-in wardrobe had been lined with silver metal and held no clothes at all. As a child, this made it all the more exciting, though as she grew older and actually started to want to own clothes, it became a little inconvenient. She supposed all great inventions came with some kind of sacrifice.

Her uncle had made the time machine as a gift when Mattie was born. Her parents, like any basic adults, assumed the wardrobe-sized box was simply a toy and had taken no interest in it. Mattie, from the age of about three when her curiosity had really set in, was the one who discovered that the machine was in fact a working portal and not just a children’s toy. Since then, she had been happily travelling time and space during the darkest hours of night.

(You may have entirely valid concerns about a three year old having full access to time travel - luckily, not just for Mattie’s safety but also that of the entire human race, her uncle had set what were effectively child locks on a lot of the controls. These were diminished the day that Mattie turned thirteen. Uncle Calvin had always been a little weird, but he certainly wasn’t heartless.)

-

Usually, Mattie’s time travel didn’t affect her life. Sure, it made for some pretty awkward conversations as Mattie spurted some knowledge which could never have been explained through a textbook, but those could often be blamed on watching too much Horrible Histories as a child (“Mattie, I swear to God, you’re so bageling British, and yet you’ve never been there, I don’t understand.” “Horrible Histories is a masterpiece! You’re just jealous that you’re too American to have seen it.” “Actual asshole of a child.” “Farrah-!”).

It was going well until Mattie’s freshman year at Giles Corey. And then three of her fellow highschoolers were murdered. And suddenly Mattie had a way to prevent that from happening.

In some stroke of luck, she passed out at the sleepover and didn’t find out about the murders until she was sitting in the back of a cop car, driving to her house to pick up her things. She remembered thinking how weird it was that she wasn’t being taken straight to the station, but brushed that away in favour of ‘going into her wardrobe to change out of her bloody clothes’.

The time machine was cold like it always was and that forced her out of her muddled state quickly enough. She thought back to the victims. Chess. Farrah. Clark. Snapping on her goggles, she pressed a button, whirled backwards through time and space, and appeared at the gate to Riley’s neighbour’s house.

She really wished that she had actually changed her outfit - the damp blood turned cold with the breeze and sent shivers up her spine. The smell perhaps or just her sudden appearance startled the neighbour’s dogs into a frenzy. A figure, Chess, unharmed and merely confused instead of terrified, stood up from Riley’s bench, calling into the darkness. Mattie’s breath caught in her throat. The second figure, knife glinting in the dim streetlight, slipped out of the back door. Their red hair shone in the reflection of the knife with a sick kind of beauty.

Mattie could have stopped them there, taken the knife from the assailant’s grasp, prevented the tragedy of the evening. But she didn’t. She just watched.

Three minutes later, after arriving back in her present time and pressing yet another button on the wall of her closet, she watched the same scene unfold in the bathroom with a much younger victim. Twenty minutes after that, the third attack. This one was different though, an accident.

Still a little desperate and overly conscious of the police officer standing guard outside of her bedroom, she reappeared in her wardrobe, putting on a jumper before turning back time a little further. She appeared in a gymnastics centre as a girl around Mattie’s age did wolf turns on a beam. A coach entered the scene from the sidelines as the girl stopped spinning, her distinctive plait falling still against her back. Something in Mattie ached at the sight of Chess so lively and innocent, willing to give up her life for her dream of succeeding in her sport. As the two wandered into a side room, picking up water with a smile, Mattie edged forwards, collecting soft gym mats as she went. Within minutes, the area surrounding the beam had been double layered with cushioning, and Mattie could only pray that her plan would work. She’d seen enough YouTube videos to know what happened next.

Chess emerged again with her coach, hopping back up onto the beam with practiced ease. Again, Mattie was forced to just watch as she went down into her wolf turn, then rose up, did a split leap across at least half of the beam, and jumped into a twist to land on the floor. It was a messy landing, the gymnast’s ankle caving in on itself, knee twisting unnaturally in the air, before coming down hard onto her side. But, unlike in the previous videos, there wasn’t a resounding crack, only a weak cry of pain as Chess stumbled back to her feet.

Mattie grinned despite herself as snippets of conversation drifted her way.

“-not broken, don’t worry-”

“The Olympics seem out of the picture…”

“Get her a drink to numb the pain! Yes, limeade’s perfect-!”

Mattie arrived in her room again with a whole plethora of new information just inserted into her mind like it had been there all along. There was no longer and never had been a police officer outside her door. Her shirt was clean, her head undamaged. Chess didn’t go to the Olympics, but still did gymnastics in her spare time as her knee made a full and quick recovery. Farrah wasn’t dropped. Riley, in some weird twist of fate, went to the same therapist as Mattie. Life was… good for the Giles Corey Tigers.

Across town, the sleepover was still going ahead as normal. From what weird memories she just gained, Mattie knew that the team was at a rocky patch, their personalities still clashing in any iteration of the evening. But, with some relief, she knew that it would never in this timeline be bad enough for murder to even be considered as an answer. Her phone buzzed. The lies came easily as she covered up her mysterious disappearance from the sleepover she should currently be at.

Reese (school): Where are you???

Mattieeeee: I went home :( not feeling good

Reese (school): :((( that sucks

Mattieeeee: Ikr. I think it was the ice cream.

Reese (school): I told the others

Reese (school): They all say get well soon apart from Kate and Cairo who actually agreed on something for once haha

Mattieeeee: What did they say skjghdjh

Reese (school): “Tolerate the lactose, Wheeler.”

-

In her short-but-actually-quite-long-given-all-the-time-travel life, Mattie had witnessed a number of key historic events (and had caused about 85% by some small accident, but that’s a story for another time). The one which ended up unveiling her secret to someone in her actual life occurred overnight one February. Or maybe July. Depends. Time is weird.

She stepped into a small room, luckily through the doorway and not awkwardly through the window, as done many times before. A man sat hunched over a desk by the window, dressed in brown and using a pen-but-not-really-a-pen to craft a page of writing. From Mattie’s extensive historical knowledge, it could have been anywhere from 1000 BC to the 16th century.

“Hello, excuse me,” she began, “But I’m a little lost.”

The man startled, his not-really-pen skidding across the page and leaving a trail of thick ink in its wake as he blinked at her in the doorway. “Who are you?” He seemed perplexed as to how a young girl was standing there, in the opening to his room, in clothing not of any time now or before.

Something that Mattie had realised after travelling not only to different times, but also to a vast number of different settings around the world, was that somehow, she was never stumped by a language barrier. Instead she was always able to fluently converse with those she met in what appeared to her as American English. It was really weird; she tried not to think about it too much or it made her head hurt. She’d also learnt that it was best not to explain her full situation to her companions, becoming accustomed to pulling the classic ‘I’m not here, you’re just dreaming’ excuse. So that was exactly the tactic she applied here. “A dream figure. You don’t need to be afraid.”

The man narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the paper and then back up to Mattie’s face. “That’s a good line.” He scribbled her words down onto a scrap piece of papyrus. “Maybe I can use that later.”

Mattie grinned, sensing her chance to fuck up history just a little bit. “What are you writing?”

“How the world came to be,” the man explained. “God.”

“Ah, of course. The Bible, huh?”

“Pardon?” The scribe locked eyes with Mattie for the first time, confusion etched clearly on his face. She shook her head in response, having learnt that it was hopeless trying to explain events of the future to people who could never even begin to imagine the future that she came from. Seemingly satisfied, the man continued. “As the vision you are, I wonder if you’ve been sent to answer my queries.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“I’m struggling for a name. Not for the book itself, but just for this chapter.”

Mattie smiled as wisely as she could. “What do you have so far?”

“‘Generational Crisis’. The chapter describes how our world came to be - the creation of natural elements, the first humans, the beginnings of emotion. ‘Generational’ as it shall be carried on for generations, and ‘crisis’ as it’s a huge event, a crisis for the higher powers.”

Mattie choked. Her mind imagined a world where the entry chapter to the Bible was named as so, and it was a world of chaos and highly differing language choices. “That is very wise, sir. I have one suggestion: how about shortening it? Make it snappier, more catchy. I’m thinking…” She paused, feigning deep thought, “‘Genesis.’”

The man gasped, scrawling her word down at the top of the papyrus. “Genius! Thank you, child. I should write your name in my finished book, to show my gratitude for your kindness.”

“Mattie, sir, Mattie Wheeler. It’s been lovely to meet you and see your studies.” Over the centuries, Mattie had learnt to leave those she met with some kind of reassurance as the humane aspect of her hobby. “Before I go, I may be a dream spirit, but I can assure you that the work you have done right now shall be greatly appreciated for thousands of years to come.”

“You really are a wonder, perhaps a child sent from the power above.”

Unthinking, she snorted, replying, “Oh, boy, you are not ready to hear about Jesus.”

“Jesus? You mean my sister’s husband? I do hear some curious rumours about the man…”

Mattie hid her laugh behind a hand. Of course, this was hundreds of years before Jesus Christ came to be thought of. “I know, right? Jesus? More like JeSUS.” The scribe didn’t reply, mind clearly tired of its confusion and instead turning back to something it knew well. He picked up his writing patterns again. Mattie turned away, back to the doorway. “I will leave you to your writing again. Sleep well.” Leaving a small vial of dissolved sleeping pills on the desk, she stepped out of the door.

-

The only class that Mattie knew she would see Eva in was Religion. They didn’t actually share the class, but Mattie’s Religion teacher was Eva’s form tutor and the older girl often used the classroom as a quieter study area for her free period. Not that Mattie would call a class of thirty sophomores particularly peaceful, but apparently she hadn’t heard the noise of the senior study area, you genuinely don’t understand, last week Jacob Thomas tried to make toast using the sun on a desk and then, bam, the entire of senior year are creating chants about sun bread, it was so weird, Mattie, I transferred to a school of crackheads.

After her travel to the 7th century AD, Mattie sparked a sudden interest in her Religion classes. Eva, being the older sister that she was, watched closely as the sophomore stayed behind after class to search the Bible for something in particular.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Nothing!” Mattie didn’t look up from fervently turning the pages.

“Well, that’s a fucking lie.” Eva perched on the side of a desk, sliding across to snatch the book out of the younger girl’s hands. “Why the hell are you looking at what is essentially the movie credits for the Bible???”

Eva watched as Mattie bit her lip, eyes darting around the empty classroom. She thought for a long moment, visibly debating points in her head, before leaning over the top of the book to run her finger down a list of names. About a third of the way down the page, she stopped. Eva’s eyes followed her finger as it drew a circle around a certain name. Matte Wheyler  

“See. I was looking for that.”

Eva didn’t say anything for a while. Mattie waited with baited breath as Eva’s brain tried to make sense of what they saw. “Mattie Wheeler, what the bagel.” It didn’t bother to even be a question.

“It’s a really long story.” Mattie slumped onto the desk as well. “Hey, did you know that ‘Genesis’ would have originally been called ‘Generational Crisis’ if it wasn’t for me?”

After a glance at both of their timetables, they decided that their next lessons (biology and latin respectively) were worth missing. Instead, they stayed seated on a desk in the Religion classroom, as Mattie explained in detail how her name came to be in the Bible. It was refreshing to finally spill her secret after fifteen years of complete silence, and Mattie wondered vaguely in the back of her mind if one day Eva might be able to share in her time travelling adventures. That might take a little more explaining though, because Eva sure did have a lot of questions.

“So, you don’t change anything?”

“Not anything major. Like, I can’t stop Hitler or anything, that would change too big an event. Little things, however, like names and stuff, it’s fun to mess around with. Ever wondered why the Italian city, Pisa, has its name? I delivered pizza to the guys who were kind of like the government at the time of its naming. Hence, the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

Eva cackled. “Wait, what?! God, dude, that’s nuts. What the fuck.”

“What can I say, all I really want in life is a little bit of chaos and also mozzarella sticks.”

-

Mattieeeee sent a photo.

evanescence: is that??? abraham lincoln????

Mattieeeee: Abraham Lincoln was an otter.

evanescence: how so?

Mattieeeee: Point one: look at him.

Mattieeeee: Point two: no seriously. Look at him.

evanescence: oh my god

evanescence: i cannot believe you have a literal selfie with abraham lincoln that’s fucking wild

Mattieeeee: Perks of the job :D

evanescence: literally hire me i want a selfie with cleopatra

-

farrah o’satanic ritual: yall i got out of the shower like an hour ago and i still haven’t changed

Imposter: What can I say, bath robes are in fashion rn

farrah o’satanic ritual: ive told you before clark stop pretending you know how to dress

Mattieeeee: Farrah did you not die in the shower?

katherine: ????mattie???????

farrah o’satanic ritual: no?? i didn’t

SmileyRiley: dang it

katherine: riLEY-

caicrow: riley i thought we’d moved on from murder

Imposter: Plot twist: Mattie was the murderer all along

katherine: CLARK-

Mattieeeee: oops-

-

It wasn't meant to happen, she swore up and down it was a mistake. A true and honest accident. And it kinda was? I mean Mattie hadn’t intended for the scaffolding on the new tower being constructed in Pisa to wobble, she’d already fucked up Pisa once in her career, but… Well, that's what she got for letting loose Giles and Corey (her occasional time travelling companions, who also happened to be cats) in the middle of a Italian city in 1252. She could have sworn the catnip was safely concealed in one of the pockets inside her jacket (which was filled with all sorts of trinkets from her travels in the space-time continuum), yet somehow the two had still gotten into it. She guessed that's what she got for not hydrating-feel-greating and eating-to-defeating.

An old citizen eyed her suspiciously, taking in her struggle with the two cats. Or maybe she was just more focused on Mattie’s goggles - she doubted anyone in 13th century Pisa had seen such a bold fashion statement before. The tower continued to lean in the background.

Finally, Giles and Corey settled down, each in a pocket of her trench coat. Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, which only got halfway out of her before she was sucking it back in as the old lady from across the street began to approach her.

“Young lady.”

Mattie smiled sheepishly. “Hello, ma’am. Is everything alright?”

The lady looked mildly amused. “I couldn’t help but notice your two cats going mysteriously close to the tower before it started collapsing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. My cats are very well behaved.” Giles gave a resounding yelp at exactly the wrong time. A hiss from Corey echoed from the opposite pocket.

“Well,” the lady grinned, “If that’s the case, why don’t you leave the animals with me? You seem fairly preoccupied with the tower - perhaps you can try and assist its reconstruction?” She held out a hand.

Mattie thought for a moment and then handed across the two cats. “Thank you ever so much, ma’am. I’ll try and be quick.” The woman nodded and Mattie sped across the square to the drastically swaying tower.

When she arrived back at the woman’s table, there was a second lady in animated conversation with her. As Mattie approached, she stood up to take her leave, pressing a kiss to the first lady’s hair as she left. Something was definitely fruity there.

“All fixed!”

“I’m glad.” The woman nudged the cats back to their owner, looking intensely over Mattie’s shoulder to the stabilised tower. “It certainly looks sturdier.”

“I should hope so.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, staring pointedly at an area on the structure, “I think about crabs.”

“Oh?” Mattie tilted her head. “Do you?”

“Yes. And often when I think about crabs, I think that they shouldn’t be in Pisa, and they most definitely should not be crawling over the tower.”

Mattie gasped and followed her gaze, muttering curses under her breath. “I didn’t realise I’d brought a whole crab with me! I thought I’d taken the sea life off the rocks!”

The woman chuckled. “You seem to be a strange character. Child, where on Earth did you find not only rocks large enough to support a tower, but also a live crab in Pisa?”

Accepting her fate, Mattie decided to tell the truth. “They’re from Egypt.” At the woman’s questioning look, she expanded, “I’m a traveller of sorts.”

“Oh. Well, child, you’re a gift of a traveller. Brightened my day. Italy these days is far too serious. Maybe we should put more crabs on the leaning tower, huh?”

Tucking her cats back into their respective pockets, Mattie allowed herself to laugh. “Maybe we should.” With a nod and a smile, she wandered off, eagerly awaiting her portal.

-

“Why were you in Egypt anyway?” Eva asked as Mattie recounted yet another of her time-travel-gone-wrong experiences.

“Library of Alexandria.”

“Oh, yeah, because that explains so much.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “It was 48 BC, Caesar was burning shit, this random Roman dude set fire to the library.” She pulled a book out of her backpack. “I saved this and stashed away a few of the slabs of rock. And apparently a crab.”

Eva took the book in awe. “Jesus Christ… This thing is, like, thousands of years old…”

“I know, right? Weird.” She watched as Eva flicked through the pages, tracing her finger over certain words or illustrations. “But it was such a beautiful library, I couldn’t let it just burn. So, I retaliated. Burnt the house of the soldier who set the original flame.”

“Mattie!”

She shrugged. “Setting someone’s house on fire is a survival skill.”

“Oh my God.”

“I would have done something more dramatic, but I had to get home. I had a cake which would need to come out of the oven.”

Eva laughed, the sound echoing around the empty classroom. They were skiving class again, this time PE, the one class they had which coincidentally fell at the same time for both year groups. “How are you so normal in school, but so badass when you time travel?”

“I dunno. All I can say is that cake and spite are my only motivators.”

“You’re like a superhero. ‘Time Travelling Mattie: The Only One Who Can Lead A Dual Life Successfully’!!!”

Mattie blushed, shrugging. She definitely needed to take Eva with her one day. A superhero duo. “Okay, that name needs some work. How about: ‘Sanchez And Wheeler, The Ultimate Time Travelling Duo’?”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

Eva nodded, shaking her hand like they were signing a business contract. “Yeah.”

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @pianomanblaine

December had never been Christine’s favourite month. She by far preferred April, with the twittering birds and the flowers starting to bloom, the sun finally showing its face again after another cold and dreary winter. Erik, on the other hand, had his own reasons for enjoying the winter months. Winter meant that the dark had already set in by late afternoon, allowing him to venture outside earlier without having to worry about his mask drawing too much attention. On top of that, this year’s winter was particularly harsh and cold, keeping most people inside their houses and leaving the streets of Paris as good as empty.

Christine didn’t really feel inclined to go out tonight either, but as Erik had been looking forward to taking his wife on a nice evening stroll for quite some time, she had agreed to leave the relative warmth of their underground home for a while. And so they made their way up, Christine wrapped in her warmest cloak, Erik’s arm draped firmly around her for extra warmth. However, when they finally emerged on the Rue Scribe, Erik’s excitement seemed to vanish as soon as he took in their surroundings. The street was completely deserted, not a single person in sight, which was easily explained by the thick blanket of snow covering the cobblestones.  

‘Oh no. No no no no no,’ Erik groaned, turning around as if he suddenly couldn’t wait to return home.

‘Erik, what’s wrong?’ Christine asked. She gently pulled him back towards her by the sleeve of his coat. ‘It’s only a bit of snow. That doesn’t mean we have to go back immediately.’

‘It does, if I have anything to say about it,’ he grumbled, glaring at the snow as if it had somehow offended him. ‘Snow is slippery, and it makes this awful crunching sound when you step on it, and it slows you down to a snail-like pace, which is incredibly annoying if you actually want to get anything done.’

As Erik ranted on, Christine let go of his arm and carefully took a few steps onto the snow-covered street, watching the small foggy cloud that formed when she breathed out in the cold evening air. She was immediately reminded of the winters she had spent with her papa in Sweden when she was a child. When it snowed there, he used to take her out to go sledding and she would scream with delight as they sped down the hill, her papa chuckling in her ear as he held her close to him.

‘Are you quite finished complaining now?’ she asked Erik. ‘Because I’m actually enjoying myself and I would like to stay out here a little longer.’

‘But Christine, I truly can’t stand snow,’ he replied with a pout on his face that Christine found rather adorable, although he would most likely throw a fit if she ever called him adorable out loud.

When Erik turned around, presumably to head back the way they came, hoping she would give in and follow him, Christine bent down and scooped up a small heap of snow, pressing it into a ball. ‘We’ll see if I can’t change your mind about that,’ she mumbled to herself and threw the ball in Erik’s direction, aiming for his back but instead hitting him in the back of the head.

Erik froze and remained completely still for what felt like an eternity, and Christine began to panic. Maybe this was a mistake. She had only wanted to make him laugh, to help him see that snow could be fun too, but perhaps he couldn’t see the humour of it at all. Just as she was about to apologize, hoping she hadn’t angered him too much, he turned back towards her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

‘I’m afraid you’ll regret that, my dear,’ he said and before she even had time to react he was already aiming his own snowball at her, which narrowly missed her shoulder. Christine shrieked in surprise and ran further up the road, trying to create more distance between them before gathering up more snow. They chased each other up and down the empty street, both of them squealing with laughter as they tossed snow at each other. Christine had to admit that her husband seemed to hit his target more often than she did, but she wasn’t really surprised that the Opera Ghost turned out to be rather competitive even at something as simple as a snowball fight.

She was delighted to see how much he was enjoying himself. It seemed she had succeeded in her mission. For a moment she just stood there, taking in the child-like grin on his face. How long had it been, she wondered, since he had last been this joyful and carefree? Christine tried to imagine a younger Erik, running around with other children his age, all of them covered in snow, their cheeks glowing red both from excitement and the cold. The image was a very pleasant one, until she remembered that Erik had never had such a happy childhood.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the snowball flying in her direction until it hit her square in the cheek.

‘Oh God, Christine, are you all right?’ Erik cried out, rushing towards her immediately, concern etched across the visible side of his face. ‘I’m so sorry, my love. Did I hurt you? Please tell me you’re not hurt.’ He ghosted his hands over her face anxiously, checking for injuries, but Christine was more than fine and she couldn’t help the peal of laughter that burst out of her. Erik looked quite affronted.

‘I’m sorry, darling, I’m not laughing at you,’ she assured him, turning her head slightly to kiss the hand that was cupping her cheek in apology. ‘It’s just… That was so much fun!’

A slow smile crept across his face. ‘Maybe snow isn’t so bad after all,’ he agreed.

They didn’t go out again in the following weeks, but Christine couldn’t stop thinking about that evening, remembering with fondness how much they had both enjoyed themselves and desperately hoping they would repeat the experience soon. She kept dropping hints to Erik, bringing up the topic of their little outing in the snow whenever she saw the opportunity, but Erik didn’t appear to pay much attention to it. In fact, he hardly seemed to be listening to her at all nowadays.

A few days after their snowball fight he had started acting very strange. He spent more and more time in his study, the door locked firmly behind him. He was often joined there by the Daroga, whose visits were suddenly much more numerous than they had been in the past. They would spend several hours in there doing God knows what, and every time Christine saw them emerge, Nadir would leave with nothing but a ‘good evening’ and a polite nod in her direction, and Erik would staunchly refuse to tell her what they had been discussing. In the end she stopped asking because she knew she would not receive a satisfactory answer anytime soon, and he stopped talking to her altogether.

One afternoon, when she had finally had enough of his continued silence and simply had to know what was going on, she decided to confront him. She found him standing at the front door, her cloak draped over his arm, and before she could even open her mouth to demand an explanation for his behaviour, he handed her the cloak and told her to dress warmly and follow him outside. Her first thought was to ask him why, but as asking questions had gotten her nowhere in the past, she settled for letting out a frustrated growl and doing as she was told.

A carriage was waiting for them on the Rue Scribe, their travelling trunk already loaded onto it. How was that possible? She hadn’t even seen him packing! Erik gestured for her to get in, and for a moment she considered throwing a tantrum, stomping her foot on the snow-covered stones and simply refusing to go anywhere until he told her what the meaning of all of this was. However, as stubborn as she could be, she knew Erik was just as tenacious and would not give in until she did what he told her to do. She climbed inside the carriage, but not before glaring at her husband with an expression that clearly said ‘if looks could kill, you would be dead right now’.

‘Erik, I am getting really tired of this,’ she sighed when he pulled the door closed behind him. ‘Tell me where we are going.’ She didn’t want to admit it, but his refusal to give her any information about his plans truly unnerved her.

‘Patience, my dear. You’ll see when we get there.’ The smirk on his face made it abundantly clear that he was enjoying this far too much for her liking.

They left the city behind, and as Christine hadn’t travelled outside of Paris much over the past few years, she lost all sense of where she was pretty quickly. The next few hours were spent in complete silence and she grew more and more anxious. What in heaven’s name was going on with Erik? He had never treated her like this, never ignored her as if her wishes and feelings were completely irrelevant. When she thought back to the very first time he had brought her to his lair underneath the opera, she remembered how even back then he had made her comfort his absolute priority. That had not changed after they were married. Until now. This was so unlike him and not having the slightest idea of what was causing this sudden change in behaviour made her sick with worry.

It was growing dark outside and the carriage was now driving through a forest, apparently leaving civilisation completely behind. By now, Christine was truly frightened and couldn’t stop the tears she had felt pricking her eyes for the past hour from spilling over any longer. When Erik heard her sniffling, he looked at her with panic in his eyes.

‘Darling, whatever is the matter?’ he asked, his hands reaching out to wipe away her tears, but she batted them away.

‘What’s the matter?’ she cried, not caring if she sounded hysterical. ‘It’s dark, we’re in the middle of the woods, you won’t tell me where we are going, and you have refused to talk to me for days! I’m your wife, Erik. I have the right to know what is going on, and I need you to tell me right now because you’re scaring me.’ Her soft sniffling had turned into full body-wracking sobs by now and this time she did not slap his hands when he pulled her towards him to comfort her.

‘Oh my dear, I am so sorry,’ he whispered soothingly as he let her cry on his shoulder. He started rubbing gentle circles on her back with one hand, something he often did when he was trying to calm her down, while he buried the other hand in her hair, which was more likely meant to calm himself down. Seeing her in distress always made him nervous, even more so when he knew that he was the one who caused it. ‘I never meant to frighten you, truly,’ he swore. ‘I simply wished to surprise you.’

‘Surprise me?’ She pulled away a little, wiping her cheeks dry, and looked at him incredulously. ‘By forcing me to come away with you and not telling me where we’re going or what’s going to happen next?’ How could he possibly think that was an appropriate way of surprising her?

He flinched at her words, and she realized he must be flashing back to the last time he had taken her away like that, after the disastrous performance of Don Juan Triumphant.

‘When you say it like that, it does sound like an idiotic idea,’ he admitted, rubbing his neck in a gesture of uneasiness. ‘You’re right of course, I should have talked to you. I am really sorry, my love, please forgive me.’ He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a feather-light kiss on her knuckles, and glanced at her with a pleading look on his face. He sounded genuinely remorseful and Christine allowed herself to relax a little, although she wasn’t inclined to forgive him for what he had put her through just yet.

‘I still don’t understand. What exactly were you trying to surprise me with?’

The moment the question had left her lips, the carriage came to a halt.

‘Allow me to show you,’ he replied, throwing open the door and extending his hand to her in invitation. She only hesitated for a second before she took it and followed him out of the carriage. The snow underneath her feet made that crunching sound Erik had claimed to hate so much the last time they were outside. She took a deep breath, relishing the fresh night air entering her lungs.

Until now she had believed they were deep in the forest, surrounded by nothing but trees, but to her utter surprise she now found herself standing in front of a beautiful little cottage. There was smoke rising from the chimney, so the house must be inhabited. She had to admit she was curious to learn who was living here, so far removed from everything and everyone, no other houses to be seen for miles, but more than anything she was extremely confused.

‘Erik, what are we doing here? Whose house is this?’

He grinned somewhat sheepishly at her as he replied. ‘Mine.’

‘Now you’ve truly lost me,’ Christine said, gaping at him in bewilderment. ‘What do you mean, it’s yours? And if it’s yours, then who is living here? And if someone else is living here, then why are we here?’

Erik squeezed her hand to stop her from spewing out any more questions. ‘If you can stop talking for a minute, I’ll explain,’ he chuckled. ‘I acquired the house only a few weeks ago. Before that, it had been empty for a long time. I had always meant it as a surprise for you, I was just waiting for the right occasion to show it to you.’

Christine felt tears threatening to fall again, but this time, they were not tears of sadness or fear. Erik had wanted to surprise her, and so he had bought her a house? He really didn’t do anything halfway, did he?

‘I had the Daroga help me to move in some furniture. He has been here earlier, stocking the kitchen with food and other supplies for our stay, lighting the fire, and so on,’ he explained, gesturing towards the smoking chimney. ‘I asked him to leave shortly before we arrived.’ So that is what all the late night conversations with Nadir had been about then. She would have to thank the man in person next time she saw him.

‘You seemed to enjoy our last outing in the snow so much,’ he continued when Christine remained silent. ‘It made me want to take you out more often, but I wanted to make certain we wouldn’t be bothered by any other people around, so this seemed like the ideal solution.’

Christine was at a loss for words. How was it possible that this man who had grown up without ever knowing any kindness, who had been shown so much hate and contempt in his life, could still be so sweet and thoughtful? Admittedly, he could have gone about it all in a different way, but since it was very unlikely he had any experience with being surprised like this himself, she supposed she could forgive him his error of judgment.

‘Please say something, love,’ Erik begged. ‘Do you not like it? We can return to Paris immediately if you wish, but maybe I could show you inside fi-‘

Christine’s mouth was on his before he could finish his sentence, her arms wrapped firmly around his neck. ‘It’s perfect, thank you,’ she whispered against his lips, ‘and I would love to see the inside.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ he murmured as he swept his giggling wife up in his arms and carried her across the threshold.

They stayed at the cottage in the woods for a couple of weeks, and it felt like absolute bliss to Christine. She got to spend more time outside over the course of the first few days than she had in the past couple of months and she savoured every second of it. Although Erik had never forbidden her from going outside, he was not particularly fond of going out during daylight hours himself, and she knew it made him uncomfortable when she left the house without him – she suspected a small part of him still believed that if she left, she would never return – so she had limited her excursions outside to a minimum. But now that she had the chance, she could not get enough of the fresh, crisp air of the forest.

On one of their walks exploring the grounds surrounding the house, they stumbled upon a small lake. Since it had been freezing continually for a while now, the lake was completely frozen over and Christine jumped up and down in excitement remembering the ice skates she had noticed among the supplies that Nadir had brought for them. After testing if the ice was solid and strong enough to hold them, Erik reluctantly agreed to fetch the skates.

Erik had never ice skated before, but Christine had enough experience to guide him through his first steps onto the ice. Once he had managed to make his way onto the ice without falling over, she took his hand and slowly started skating around the edge of the lake. He had a look of utmost concentration on his face and held out his free arm to keep his balance, but managed to follow her without incident.

‘See, this is fun, isn’t it?’ Christine said after a few laps around the lake, and although his answering smile was still somewhat hesitant, he seemed to be growing more and more sure-footed. After another lap he felt confident enough to try it on his own. Christine let go of his hand and watched as he went off, his smile growing with every step, obviously satisfied at having mastered another skill. He must have gained a bit too much confidence, because the moment she took her eyes off him, she heard him cursing and looked back just in time to see him stumble and fall, landing flat on his bottom.

She sucked in a breath and grimaced in sympathy. She had fallen over enough times herself in the past to know how much that could hurt. He didn’t seem to be injured too badly though, as he struggled back on his feet within seconds, but the smile had been wiped off of his face. Christine hurried over to make sure he was okay, but she couldn’t convince him to stay on the ice any longer. He sulked all the way back to the cottage, muttering that he had hurt his wrist in the fall, but his mood lightened significantly when she promised to kiss it better.

Erik did not always join her outside. Sometimes the need to compose would simply grow too strong and he would withdraw to the piano in the music room (of course the cottage had a music room, he would probably have refused to stay in the house if it didn’t).  On these occasions, Christine set out on her own, always promising not to stray too far away from the house, and by the time she returned, Erik often had a new piece of music to play for her.

Their evenings however were invariably spent together. Sometimes they would sing. ‘Being away from home should never be an excuse to neglect your voice, Christine, you need to keep it in shape,’ Erik never failed to remind her. Other times she would listen to Erik reading aloud from one of her favourite novels, letting his rich, seductive voice wash over her and lull her to sleep. But her favourite evenings were those they would just spend by the fire in companionable silence, Christine lying down on the couch with her head resting in her husband’s lap, his long fingers combing through her hair, which she loved so much that if she were a cat, she was sure she would be purring.  

Sooner than she would have liked, the last day of their little winter holiday arrived. Erik had business at the Opera to attend to, but he promised her they would return before long. Christine was determined to make the most of their final moments here, and as they had woken up to find the earth covered in a fresh layer of snow, they decided to go out one last time and make a snowman together. The morning sped by, and as Christine stepped back to take in the final result, she burst out laughing when she noticed the uncanny resemblance their creation bore to Monsieur Firmin, one of the two fools who ran the Opera, as Erik described them. Now she understood why he had insisted on finding some twigs to give the snowman a moustache.

That night they decided to retire early, as the carriage would be there to pick them up early the next morning. Christine was changing into her nightgown while Erik added another log to the fire.  She knew he did not do that for his own benefit, as he didn’t mind the cold much, but was thinking of her comfort, for which she was extremely grateful. It had been freezing outside and her fingers and toes had still not warmed up properly. She smiled gratefully at him, glad that he had already taken off his mask for the night so she could see his face as he gazed back at her lovingly. If his love for her could warm her physically, she would never be cold again.

Alas, that was wishful thinking. She shivered as she finished undressing and hurried to join Erik in bed, almost stumbling over her own feet in her haste to get under the covers. She sighed happily as she settled into his arms, rubbing her ice cold feet against his, causing him to yelp in indignation.

‘My love, even to my eternally cold skin, your little feet feel like icicles,’ he complained.

‘I know, I’m sorry darling,’ she replied, ‘but I simply haven’t managed to get warm all evening. My hands are still cold too.’ She placed her hands on his cheeks to prove her point.

He was prepared this time and flinched only slightly at her icy touch. He let her keep her hands there for a few seconds more before covering them with his own and bringing them to his mouth. ‘Allow me to warm them, then,’ he murmured, the sound of his voice sending shivers down her spine that had nothing at all to do with the temperature in the room. He began peppering her hands with kisses, starting at the tips of her fingers and making his way down over her palm to her wrist. He pressed a more lingering kiss there, caressing her skin with his lips, looking up at her with an expression that spoke both of adoration and desire.

Christine felt her mouth turn dry and pressed her arm a little closer to his mouth, unable to resist the sensation of his lips on her skin. She licked her lips unconsciously and noticed how his eyes immediately flickered to her mouth to follow the movement of her tongue.

‘You know what else feels cold?’ she whispered.

‘Do tell,’ he breathed against her skin, smirking at her, fully aware of the effect his touch had on her.

‘My lips. My lips are cold.’

‘Well then,’ he grinned, moving a hand to her waist to pull her closer, ‘I’ll simply have to warm them too.’

[ao3theskyisblue]

Here’s to everyone (but mostly us)

Summary: 

"Have you ever thought what the world would be like if we hadn't met?"

"I don't know about you, " "But since the day you've appeared in my life, I can't imagine anything else."

Or, a fun little fic to go with that emotional scene in episode 4, where TK mentions being a personal shopper.

For @pragmaticoptimist34 here’s the fic to this post 😊

Click here to read on AO3 :))) 

“Have you ever thought what the world would be like if we hadn’t met?”

Carlos paused with his knife mid-slice, tilting his head up to meet TK’s gaze as the man was currently perched atop the kitchen counter. His posture was relaxed, green eyes shining in curiosity more than anything else, and so Carlos looked back down, resuming his chopping, silently waiting for him to continue.

“How different our lives would be?” TK hummed, swinging his legs gently back and forth. To others, the action may have been distracting, but to Carlos, it was one of the most endearing things he’s learned about his boyfriend. It was cute, how he almost seemed to be doing it unconsciously.

“I don’t know about you,” Carlos set down his knife and picked up the zucchini, moving them from the cutting board to a nearby bowl.

He had planned on making something quick when he asked for TK to bring some baby cucumbers on his way back when he got off shift, but that thought had quickly went out the door when TK arrived, kissed him chastely, and took out two giant zucchinis.

“TK…I asked you to buy cucumbers.”

“I did?” TK pointed to the two green vegetables he had just plopped onto the kitchen counter.

“…”

After rinsing the knife in the sink, he placed it down before looking up at TK again. “But since the day you’ve appeared in my life, I can’t imagine anything else.”

He watched, intrigued, as a pink tint slowly surfaced on TK’s cheeks, chuckling at the fond eye-roll.

“How do you even have the energy to cook and flirt with me right now? You just got off a 12-hour shift.” TK groaned, though the wide smile on his lips told Carlos all he needed to know. Deciding that the fried rice could wait just a little longer, he moved closer to where TK was sitting, smiling when he automatically spread his legs a little to accommodate him into his space.

“We both got off a 12-hour shift. And there is no such thing as being too tired to flirt with you.” Carlos mused, his smile widening as TK leaned in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “The world could be ending, and I’d still flirt with you, rest assured on that.”

TK let out a sound between a snort and a laugh, leaning in to kiss him again, this time on both cheeks. They stayed like that for a while, bodies pressed in close to chase each other’s warmth. Carlos’ hands were settled comfortably on TK’s lower back, and the latter had squeezed him in tighter with his legs, hands playing with the stray curls on his nape.

And as always, their eyes never strayed far from the other.

Carlos nudged TK lightly when he suddenly let out a small puff of laughter, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I was just thinking of other scenarios where we could have met if life went in a different direction. Can you imagine me as a teacher?” TK snickered, and Carlos leaned back slightly.

“You are very good with kids.” TK’s smile turned a touch softer before returning to mischievous.

“I would create so many situations where they would have to call you in. Just to see you.” TK grinned, one hand shifting to push back some loose strands of hair from Carlos’ face. “I would even put myself through teaching chemistry, just to cause some mishaps.”

If there was a word to describe how much he loved the man in his arms right now, it probably wouldn’t fit in any dictionary.

“Wrong team, babe. Pretty sure they’ll call the fire department first.” Carlos pointed out. TK shrugged, poking a finger to Carlos’ chest, right above his heart.

“You’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t even consider responding for questioning?” TK raised an eyebrow, and…okay yeah, he did have a point.

“If I decided to become a cop, we could have worked together.” TK continued, and Carlos forced the image of TK in full APD uniform out of his mind, not needing another reason to put off their dinner until further notice. He’s already had numerous visual pleasures of TK in his worn out APD shirts, he didn’t need a heart-attack when his boyfriend completed the ensemble.

“HR would probably have had one of us transferring to the other side of the country in a second.”

TK reeled back, as if almost offended by that.

“You don’t think I would make a good colleague?” Carlos gave him a look, not buying the innocent expression for a moment. TK grinned, nudging him with his feet. “I would be on my best behaviour?” His expression didn’t change.

“You’re not the only one who would have to restrain themselves, you know,” Carlos murmured, hearing TK’s breath hitch slightly. “HR would be breathing down on my neck as much as they would be breathing down on yours.”

“We could just get transferred together. Problem solved.” TK suggested, and Carlos rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head.

“Care to test the theory?”

Carlos frowned, confused.

“That I can convince anyone that I can be in any profession, no matter what you introduce me as.” TK tilted his head adorably, and – what.

“I’m…not sure I understand? Why would – “  

Something passed over TK’s expression, but before Carlos could read what it was, it was gone.

“It’ll be fun! Plus, I like being right.” TK grinned.

And…okay, who was Carlos to not indulge his boyfriend?

“Fine.”

It didn���t mean he couldn’t tease, though.

Moving back towards the cutting board, focusing intensely on the peppers this time, he asked, “You know what you would definitely pull off though?” Without even looking up, he knew TK was looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed adorably as he tried to discern the answer.

“What?”

Carlos gestured towards the zucchinis, grinning widely.

“A personal shopper.”

Carlos laughed, not even trying to dodge as TK kicked him in reprimand.

“And people say I’m the smartass.”

 .

It was rare, but not altogether impossible to see each other accidentally while the other was on the clock.

He had planned on running some errands when he noticed the brazen ‘126’ scribed across a familiar fire truck, its occupants currently putting back their supplies. Carlos recognized most of the equipment being put back were medical related, and they were sporting relaxed expressions so he guessed the call hadn’t been too bad.

He didn’t want to disturb them in the middle of work, and turned to walk back to his car when TK spotted him, smiling in pleasant surprise.

“Carlos?”

And there goes that plan.

Carlos returned the smile, closing the distance between them.

“Hey, you.” They had agreed on keeping the PDA to a minimum while on the job, so Carlos didn’t lean forward to give him the usual quick kiss they usually shared. He noticed TK catching himself before he did just that, and felt warmth blossoming in his chest.

“Is that our dinner?” TK tilted his head towards the bags in his hands, and Carlos gave an affirmative nod.

“I got extra cucumbers, just in case.” Carlos teased, stepping out of the way stealthily as TK lifted his leg.

“That was one time. And I was tired.” TK huffed, lowering his leg to lean against the firetruck casually. Carlos never knew he loved a man in uniform until the day he saw TK in his, the blue shirt tucked neatly into his work pants, tight and accentuating all the right places.

Though, TK could be wearing a burlap sack and still look as beautiful as he looked right now, he just somehow made everything work, much to his never-ending captivation.  

Stepping closer, eyes trailing quickly to see if they were alone, Carlos leaned in to press a quick kiss to the corner of TK’s lips. Leaning back, he chuckled at TK’s stunned expression.

“Reyes?”

Tensing, he saw TK’s eyes widen further as he made a discrete motion for him and turn around. Carlos did exactly that, only to see one of his co-workers heading in their direction.

“It is you! Day off today?” The man, Karl, smiled kindly and Carlos couldn’t do anything but nod slowly.

“Yeah.” Karl looked towards TK curiously, and Carlos hoped the smile on his face wasn’t too awkward. “Karl, this is TK, my b-“ TK nudged him lightly, green eyes now gleaming with mischief. Carlos rolled his eyes at the ‘remember our pact?’ silently being voiced between them and sighed quietly, giving Karl a wary smile.  

“-my colleague.” 

The word tasted funny on his tongue, and felt wrong, but a deal was a deal. He would humour TK and this game of theirs, even though he was sure he sounded not the least bit convincing.

“Your...colleague.” Karl said slowly, as if waiting for something more. When he gave none, the baffled look he gave him keyed him in on how Karl had definitely seen the kiss from earlier.  

And okay, yeah, Carlos himself wouldn’t have been convinced either if that were the case.

“Very close colleagues.” TK grinned, seeming to read the situation now and patted Carlos’ shoulder meaningfully. Karl’s lips twitched further upwards.

“I...see.” He clearly doesn’t see, but still gives them an amused smile. “And here I was thinking that I knew all our colleagues. Especially the pretty ones.” Karl teased, and Carlos couldn’t help laughing lowly as he waggled his eyebrows.  

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Karl chuckled, giving Carlos another knowing look, which he rolled his eyes good-naturedly at. He turned to TK, who was snickering quietly.

“You know, if you hadn’t kissed me, he might have bought it.” TK hummed, grinning mirthfully. Carlos looked at him wryly, shaking his head.

“Should I take back that kiss then?” Carlos mused, his lips tugging up into a smile at TK’s immediate ‘no.’

“Kisses have a no take-back rule. It’s practically law.” TK said seriously, and Carlos grinned.

“Law, huh?”

TK straightened himself from leaning against the firetruck to take his free hand, lifting it up to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. He wasn’t sure his heart got the message to stay calm, and quietly wondered if TK could hear it practically beating out of his chest.

“I’ll see you at home?” TK’s eyes crinkled with that smile, making Carlos feel all mushy inside, as if he needed any more reason for his heart to stop beating at all from overdrive.

He squeezed their tangled hands, suddenly feeling the world warming seamlessly around them.

“Stay safe.”

 .

Four tacos, one bubble tea and three napkins later, TK was on the verge of debating whether he should just call in for a day off with how full he was.

“You know, if you keep on spoiling me like this, I’m not going to fit into my uniform soon.”

His elbows were placed comfortably on the wooden bench, his chin leaning over to rest lightly over his clasped hands. Carlos tossed the last of his own napkins into the compostable container before looking up, lips twitching in amusement. His eyes trailed down slowly down the length of his body, the slight heat in his languid gaze sending a pulse of heat through TK’s body.

“Sounds like a win-win to me.” Carlos mused, chuckling as TK rolled his eyes. Reaching out just a bit further, TK lightly knocked his leg against Carlos’, the movement slightly jostling the bench they were sitting on as they had been linking ankles before. “And just for that, I’m going to be swinging by the station tonight to cook all of you dinner.”

Groaning, TK ran a hand down his face (though not masking his wide grin) as he slouched slightly in defeat. He didn’t need to be looking at Carlos to know he was wearing his signature smug smirk.

“Paul’s already been working at stuffing us to our limits by turning the station’s kitchen into the next MasterChef. Please don’t encourage him. You know I can’t say no to your cooking.” TK looked up pleadingly, making sure that his so called ‘puppy-dog eyes’ were in full force. He knew that Carlos had slowly gotten used to seeing them through their months of dating, but it has still gotten his boyfriend to be a little more lenient with him so far, so it couldn’t hurt, right?

“Too late. I texted Paul to let him know there would be an extra pair of hands helping him tonight and to bring out his A-game.” Carlos grinned, lifting up the hand that wasn’t intertwined with TK’s to wave his phone at him teasingly. He tried to scowl, but it truly was difficult to feel anything but sheer affection for the openly delighted expression on Carlos’ face.

TK parted his lips, mind working to come with a smart comeback but was startled by a shadow appearing next to them suddenly.

“Hello- uh, officer?”

The two men looked up to see a beautiful woman with luscious brown hair tied up in a loose bun standing beside their bench. TK would have been taken aback at how she knew Carlos was a cop, but remembered that he was still in uniform during their shared lunch break. Studying her curiously, TK noticed that her expression seemed a little nervous and her hands were gripping her handbag tighter than necessary when Carlos turned his puzzled gaze from TK to meet hers politely.

“Yes?”

TK ducked his head to hide a smile at how Carlos’ voice had turned from the affectionate tone he used during their private conversations to work-mode in a manner of seconds. The familiar warmth spreading through his body was nothing new. It seemed like there was an infinite amount of space in his chest for his heart to grow with love for the man sitting across from him.

“I- well, I’ve seen you a lot around here and I was wondering if I could get your number?” TK bit the inside of his cheek to hide a wide grin, lifting a hand to cover his mouth lightly in hopes of pushing down the bout of laughter threatening to spill at the woman’s eager gaze. Truthfully, he respected her courage, if not a little taken-aback at her obliviousness.

They were sitting with their ankles locked, hands loosely intertwined on the table, and he was pretty sure two men who had just been feeding each other bites of their tacos screamed anything but platonic.

“I’m – I’m sorry?” Carlos blinked at her, jaw slackened in shock, and TK once again had to hold back a snicker. He wasn’t sure he’s ever seen his boyfriend look so confused over a question before, and opted to look at the woman, giving her his best smile.

“You don’t have to! I just- thought I’d ask? My friends always say I let opportunities pass without even taking a second glance and I guess, decided to take a second glance? This time?” The woman trailed off, eyebrows furrowing, her eyes darting between the two as if the answer to her own question would magically appear if her eyes darted fast enough.

TK’s self-control was currently on the verges of collapsing, the laughter just bubbling on the surface of his lips, threatening to break free so he bit his cheeks harder to keep it at bay. It would be terribly rude, and that was something he tried very hard not to be.

Carlos was completely speechless now, his eyes very obviously glancing down at where their hands were intertwined on the table, and he seemed to only shake out of his daze when TK gently pulled his hand back, giving Carlos a discrete wink at his confused look.

“You have very good taste ma’am.” TK said brightly, and when the woman’s gaze turned to him, she seemed a little taken aback, for what reason, he wasn’t quite sure yet. “What’s your name?”

The woman’s eyes widened, wincing at the question as if realizing she kind of had just popped out of nowhere, and smiled weakly.

“Karoline.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Karoline!” TK grinned, shifting his gaze to Carlos, sending him a ‘play along’ look before turning his gaze to Karoline again. “As this gorgeous man’s personal valet, I can assure you he is a wonderful guy. Also tips very well.”

(It wasn’t exactly a lie, Carlos is absolutely wonderful. The ‘tips’ however…)

TK hid a smirk at Carlos’ incredulous stare, stunned, and the woman in front of them looked a little perplexed but the polite smile never left her face. 

“His personal valet?” 

TK leaned back slightly, untangling their locked ankles much to Carlos’ silent protest. He shot Carlos a knowing look, reaching forward to pat his hand affectionately before turning his attention back to the woman.  

“You see, his hands just get so tired all the time arresting the bad people on the street, so I lend him mine. Sometimes. Quite often.” TK smiled casually, and just to drive in the nail, he added, “I can drive a stick very well.”

TK was well aware that heated eyes were glaring daggers at him right now, which is why he leaned his legs even further back. The badly aimed kick met air, and he let out a quiet chuckle at Carlos’ muffled curse when he slipped slightly in his seat.

Karoline looked even more baffled than before, if not also a little wary now, not knowing who to look at. TK was about to throw in another comment when Carlos suddenly leaned forward, his expression clearing from the earlier shock.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I have to decline.” The conviction in his tone had Karoline immediately step back, and TK could honestly relate a little to her brief flash of disappointment. The memory of a particular moment months ago, back when their relationship was still undefined still left a bitter taste on his tongue.

He looked at Carlos then, and was a little floored at the pulses of affection emitting in waves through his eyes and encasing him in an all-too-familiar warmth.

“I’m in a fully-committed relationship.” Carlos said softly, talking more to him than Karoline, and TK ducked his head as his cheeks warmed.

“Oh. I’m-I’m so sorry.” Unlike before, Karoline was the one lost for words now, and she gave them both a quick and awkward wave before walking as fast as her stiletto heels allowed her, a feat quite impressive all on its own.

TK watched as her figure gradually faded into the distance, turning back to face Carlos again and pauses when he finds his boyfriend staring at him incredulously.

“Seriously?”

Raising an eyebrow at how appalled he looked, TK unconsciously linked their ankles underneath the table again.

“What?”

“A personal valet? Do those even exist anymore?” TK was about to answer when Carlos groaned, shaking his head. “You know what – I don’t want to know. It’s probably better if I don’t.” Carlos sighed, and TK felt his lips inadvertently curl upwards, his amusement from before hitting him full force now from how much he restrained himself earlier.

“I thought I did pretty well. I make an excellent driver.” Carlos snorted. TK narrowed his eyes, scowling.

“Something to share, officer?”

“I let you drive once.” Carlos said slowly, leaning forward and trailing off as if to prove a point, but TK couldn’t really see the point being made.

“And…?”

“Once, Ty. I never thought it was possible to desperately try driving from the passenger side with imaginary brakes until that night. I can still feel the phantom aches in my right leg.” TK frowned at that, trying to remember back to the night Carlos was mentioning. He had stepped off a 24-hour shift and was too tired to stand upright, tossed him the car keys after affirming he had a driver’s license and that was that.

Now that he thought back on it, Carlos had looked a little pale when they got home.

“In my defense…I hadn’t touched a car for a while before that night.” TK tried weakly, biting his lip when Carlos just stared at him flatly.

“You almost reversed us into a ditch when you tried shifting to ‘drive.’”

“Okay now, that is definitely not my fault. I had a motorcycle back in New York and it’s a little difficult shifting mindset from the patterning on the gear shifts – why are you looking at me like that.” TK was fully prepared to explain his case when he caught the strange look on Carlos’ face. His eyes were a little too wide, mouth parted slightly as if in shock again.

“Seriously, are you alright? What did I say?” TK frowned, reaching forward to squeeze Carlos’ hand, feeling a little relieved when he felt him squeeze back, albeit tighter than he had.

“You drove a motorcycle?” TK’s frown deepened when Carlos’ voice sounded strangled, his breaths shallower than before, pupils blown wide.

“Yeah? It was easier, since traffic was terrible. It’s not LA, but rush-hour is absolute hell.” TK explained slowly, studying Carlos’ expression more closely, before realizing what he was seeing and smirked.

“Didn’t peg you to like bad boys.” TK teased, laughing as Carlos scowled.

“Not everyone who rides motorcycles are bad boys. I just have good taste.” Carlos grumbled, smiling now, and TK flashed a grin.

“Admit it, I would make an awesome personal valet.” TK tilted his head impishly, enjoying Carlos’ slightly put-off expression.

“You just told that kind woman how much you enjoyed lending me your hand. And about how much you enjoy our activities in bed. With car puns.” Carlos shook his head fondly, sighing in exasperation. “Pretty sure that alone would get you fired.”

TK gave Carlos a smug smile, leaning in closer so that their faces were mere inches apart.

“But did I lie?”

  (On the other side:

“It’s always the pretty ones, huh?” Karoline sighed, slipping the change into the tip jar as she watched the two men she had just talked to smiling softly, heads leaning in subconsciously towards each other in a pocket of intimacy she didn’t see before. From her new angle now, and with her nerves no longer impairing her observation skills, she could clearly see the intertwined hands, the locked ankles, and one of the men teasing the other by slowly inching up the length of the other’s leg.

Reina, the kind lady who ran the taco cart, snorted elegantly, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh, honey. Those two aren’t exactly quiet with how much they love each other.”

 .

“Excuse me, sir?”

Carlos paused mid-story about an absurd call involving two brothers, a parakeet, and a toaster he had responded to that day to look down at three kids looking up at them with wide eyes. It was one of the rare days where their day offs finally coincided, and he let TK drag him outside for a walk at a nearby park.

“You know, it’s funny. Usually the roles are reversed.” Carlos drawled, not bothering to lift his head up from the pillow as TK slipped on his boxers, bare feet padding lightly around the bedroom to try and find where his t-shirt had flown in their fun last night.

“I thought I’d finally give you a break from always having to drag me out of bed, and now you want to sleep in?” TK mused, and Carlos pressed his face deeper into his pillow, grumbling incoherently.

“I’m not awake enough for this. How are you even walking right now?” TK snorted at that, and Carlos heard footsteps coming closer before the bed dipped beside him, smiling when soft lips pressed a kiss against his bare shoulder.

“Talent.” TK whispered, and Carlos opened his eyes, reaching out in record speed to tug TK down beside him again, both of them grinning widely. Carlos rolled them over, easily accommodating TK’s weight on top of his, the latter relaxing into his arms.

“Oh? Are our legs suddenly working again?” TK teased, lifting a hand to poke at his cheek playfully, and Carlos shot him an amused glare, tightening his hold before rolling them again, lips twitching up to match TK’s laugh as he pressed him into the bed.

“No.” Carlos huffed, swallowing TK’s answering chuckle with a kiss. He couldn’t help his own bright smile when hands cupped the back of his head, tugging him in closer. What he hadn’t been prepared for, was for the world to suddenly shift. He opened his eyes to see TK looking down at him affectionately, lips slightly swollen from their kiss as he leaned down to press feathery-light kisses all over his face.

“I’ll start the coffee.”

Shaking his head, Carlos gave TK a curious look, tilting his head towards the kids. TK shrugged, not knowing who they were either.

“Yes?” They responded in unison, and the kids exchanged glances before two of them pushed the third forward, delegating him as the speaker, much to the boy’s apparent annoyance.

“Zola wants to know how your arms got so big!” The boy blurted out, gesturing to the girl who scowled at him.

“Oh, like you weren’t wondering too, Zack!” Zola crossed her arms haughtily, her pigtails swinging angrily as she turned her head abruptly to the side.

“I told you to be low-key about it!”

“She’s right though, Zack.”

“Nobody asked you, Cody!”

Carlos noticed TK’s lips twitching in amusement, his green eyes gleaming with silent laughter at the kids bickering. He saw Zola starting to step menacingly towards Zack and kneeled down to their height, deciding to step in.

“I’m a police officer.” Carlos explained, and all three pairs of eyes turned to him. Zola and Zack seemed to piece together the answer judging by the flow of understanding in their gaze, while Cody’s eyes widened in awe.

“So you’re a hero!” Cody exclaimed excitedly, stepping closer, and Carlos felt a little embarrassed at the blatant wonder colouring Cody’s expression.

“It’s a group effort, but thank you.” Carlos gave him a gentle smile, and Cody ducked his head shyly.

“So, what’s your excuse?”

Carlos shifted to see Zack turning accusing eyes towards TK, who blinked at Zack’s boldness. Though, the amused smile was still present when he kneeled down to join Carlos in their conversation.

“You think my arms are big?” TK asked playfully, and Zack scoffed, scowling at Zola who smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“They’re alright I guess.” Zack huffed, and Carlos had to hold back a laugh at TK’s affronted look. He raised both hands innocently when TK turned to glare at him. Carlos looked Zack right in the eye, sending a mischievous smile in TK’s direction.

“He’s my personal shopper.” Carlos said blithely, accepting the elbow to his ribs graciously. “Though recently, I’m thinking of hiring another considering he brought home zucchinis when I specifically asked for-“

“Okay! They don’t need to know that.” TK fixed Carlos with a look before turning to the kids again, smiling pleasantly.

“So, your arms look like that because you shop a lot?” Cody asked, and Zack frowned.

“That can’t be the case. My mother doesn’t have arms like him.” Zack noted.

“Ah, not necessarily, Zack. Everyone shops differently.” TK twists a little to showcase his arms much to Carlos’ amusement, “Never underestimate the power of weekly sales.” TK winked, but Zack didn’t look too impressed.

“Can you cook too?” Zola asked tentatively, and Carlos snorted.

“Oh, definitely not. He just buys the groceries.” Carlos mimicked a terrified shudder, laughing as TK was very obviously fighting off a pout, trying to act tough in front of the kids.  

“I can make coffee! And salad.”

Carlos very wisely didn’t remind TK of their automated coffee machine, instead focusing on the latter part of his remark.

“By tossing the vegetables I already chopped for you into a bowl?”

“It still counts!” TK huffed, looking towards the kids for some validation but Zack didn’t seem too impressed.

“I can make salad and I’m seven. You’re what, 30?” Zack raised an eyebrow, and Carlos coughed loudly to mask his laughter, admiring Zack’s bold personality and apparent lack of filter. TK swayed beside him, clasping a hand to his chest dramatically.

“I am not that old.” TK groaned, pointedly ignoring Carlos’ bemused stare.

‘You’re 26 Ty, he just rounded up.’ Carlos raised an eyebrow in silent communication, and TK rolled his eyes and stuck up a certain finger out of view of the kids.

“So, to answer your question Zola, no, he can’t cook. Other than tossing together a salad.” Carlos chuckled.

“I didn’t hear you complaining when I tossed your salad.”

Carlos choked on air, narrowing his eyes when TK snickered. He tilted his head sharply to where innocent seven-year-olds were listening, all of which were looking up at them in confusion.

“Personal shoppers toss your salad too?”

“What does that even mean?”

“Maybe he helps him coat the sauce more evenly-“

“Alright kids,” Carlos interrupted, nudging TK sharply as he laughed, “I’m sure your parents will be picking you up soon.” He looked up to see a man and woman heading in their direction, giving them a strained smile before standing up and pulling TK with him.

“It was nice to meet you all!” TK called back, stumbling as Carlos pulled him in closer, walking briskly in the opposite direction.

“You’re shameless.” Carlos hissed once they were out of earshot, his arm curling around TK’s waist to give him a full view of his unimpressed glare. TK merely stepped into the hold, lips curling up impishly.

“To be fair, Zack started it by saying I was 30. Plus, they’ll probably forget this even happened when they’re finally old enough to understand.” TK shrugged, and Carlos sighed.

“Let’s hope so.”

  (On the other side:

“Hey mom?

“Yes sweetie?”  

“Why would someone toss someone else’s salad? Why not just do it yourself?”)

 .

The first thing his boyfriend does is hold up both hands, palms facing forward placatingly.

“I can explain.”

 No, he really can’t. He could probably try, but nothing that Carlos was going to say now would deter him from doing a thorough checkup and then sending him to the hospital for further checks.

“Enlighten me.” Even though he was itching to run his hands along his boyfriend’s tattered uniform to check for hidden injuries, he forced himself to push forward what minuscule amount of composure he had left to stay put at his spot a few steps away.  

TK watched as Carlos shifted his weight, the slight wince at the motion almost making him sprint forward to just throw him on a stretcher. He opted to just tighten his hold on the nylon handle of the first-aid bag he was holding, silently waiting for him to speak.

“We thought we had sealed off all the exits.” Carlos started, reaching up a hand to run through his messy curls. There was a scratch on his hand that was still bleeding, and that alone had TK’s grip on the bag tighten further. “Turns out there was an underground sewer that wasn’t on the blueprints, which started a car chase.”

A car chase.

That was certainly a mild way to put it.

When his team had arrived on scene, TK had felt his heart plummeting to the cold concrete floor at how the first car he saw was crushed so badly it looked more like the truck that had T-boned it had eaten it rather than simply crashed into it. And that wasn’t even the most terrifying thing about the scene.

It was the fact that there were also multiple APD cruisers, the glass from their shattered windows scattering the ground, gleaming menacingly in the low evening light, as if taunting him.

Because Carlos’ cruiser had been one of them.

TK almost dropped the saw he had been carrying when he saw it as the one nearest the horribly crushed car, and suddenly felt the world not having enough air the breathe. His team had noticed immediately, grim expressions on their faces when they slowly pieced together the scene in front of them, and they worked on autopilot.

Paul grabbed the saw from his hands, squeezing his shoulder in passing. Marjan and Mateo all gave him reassuring smiles, squeezing his arm, and his dad and Judd gently nudged him towards where a couple uniform officers were. His dad had waved at Tommy but she was already shoving a med kit into his hands, Nancy double checking if he had everything.

Which brought them to where they were now.

He hadn’t seen Carlos at first, eyes darting frantically around the scene for a familiar face, ears strained, desperately listening for the voice he loved most in the world. It hadn’t been until he looked towards an elderly couple, the ones that had probably called it in according to dispatch, when he finally saw his boyfriend.

He had already did a full sweep with his eyes for any superficial injuries and felt his heart slowing slightly when he noticed minor bruising, but now, standing in front of the man who could have died without him even knowing, he needed to be sure.

“-fine though. Really, I’m okay. I promise.” Carlos was trying to sound reassuring, and TK appreciated it, but he needed to see for himself.

“Carlos?”

There must have been something in his voice, because Carlos immediately stopped talking, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah?”

TK closed the rest of the distance between them to stare at him blankly.

“Sit your ass down right now and let me check you over.”

He thought his boyfriend would have put up more of a fight, considering both their stubborn natures regarding injuries, so he was pleasantly surprised when Carlos merely sat down slowly on the curb.

TK didn’t waste another second to kneel down and take Carlos’ hand in his, the one he had noticed before that had been bleeding, and did quick work to fix that. They didn’t speak, and he was silently grateful for the quiet, wanting to concentrate fully on making sure he didn’t miss anything. When he slowly brought his gaze up to Carlos’ face, he was taken aback at how warm those brown orbs were, as they watched him work.

“I’m okay.” Carlos repeated again, this time softer, and TK had to glance away as the lump in his throat threatened to spill over. He had been holding his own feelings at bay, needing to do his job without his emotions clouding his decisions because he needed to make sure it was his professional opinion that Carlos was alright before his personal opinion did.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” TK said quietly, tightening the bandage he secured around Carlos’ wrist, mentally noting down the mild sprain to be checked over more at the hospital. He had already poked and prodded every single part of Carlos’ ribs, checked for internal bleeding, a concussion, head lacerations –

He should do a second check.

“TK.”

TK didn’t look up, instead continuing his second round of examinations, when a hand gently took both of his, a head ducking down to meet his gaze.

He didn’t know what kind of expression he was sporting right now, but allowed Carlos to slowly tug him into a hug. He ducked his face into his spot in the crook of Carlos’ neck, closing his eyes.

“I was scared.” TK choked out quietly, feeling the arms around him tighten further. His own hands clutched desperately at Carlos’ back, trying to convince him that he was here, safe in his arms, and not disappearing somewhere he couldn’t follow. “I saw your cruiser, and the world turned grey.” The tears he had been trying anxiously to keep at bay slipped down his cheeks. He almost wanted to pull back to not get Carlos’ uniform wet, but his boyfriend made no move to let go, instead making a wounded noise and pressed him in even closer.

“I’m sorry.” TK did pull back slightly at that, shaking his head violently.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” TK cupped Carlos’s face between the palms of his hands reverently, not even caring how terrible he must look with wet tears running down his cheeks and eyes swollen red. Carlos was still looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world, so he could deal with his terrible crying face later.

Gentle thumbs swiped away the rest of the tears that had slipped free, and TK smiled weakly as Carlos pressed their foreheads together. Their breaths intermingled in the chilled evening air, and TK has never felt this warm.

They stayed like that for a while, before TK swiped a hand over his face and moved back a little, eyes running over the wrinkly cop uniform.

“For once, I’m not the reason your uniform is all wrinkly.”  TK said lightly, and Carlos’ lips tugged into a bright smile, eyes dancing happily.

“We could always fix that.”

“And you say I’m shameless.” TK chuckled weakly, leaning into the warm palm cupping his face.

“You two are real sweet on each other, aren’t you?”

TK startled at the sudden voice, turning to see the elderly couple he saw before standing beside them, twin smiles on their faces.

How long had they been there?

“How long have you two been together?” The elderly man asked kindly, and TK exchanged a glance with Carlos, who gave him an amused smile, nodding at him to go on.

“I’m his- ah, friend. Bro. Very good bro.”

The elderly couple just looked at them, gazes shifting from one to the other in utter disbelief. TK discreetly pinched Carlos’ wrist at the non-too quiet snort badly hidden into his cough. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea he could have come up with, considering how close they had been earlier. But still, he decided to clear the air. 

Or, tried to.

“Homies, you know? And all that jazz. I’m sure you understand.” TK added weakly, and clearly they didn’t understand, but politely stayed quiet about it.

“Is that so.” The elderly woman hummed, eyes twinkling knowingly, and her husband snorted. “Well, we’ll leave you two to it then. Carry on being ‘bros.’” The woman winked, before tugging on her husband’s arm to lead him away.  

“I’m staring to think you might suck at this game.” Carlos mused, watching the elderly couple walking away before turning his gaze back to him. TK groaned.

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best choice.” Carlos stared at him, choking out an incredulous laugh.  

“You think?” 

TK huffed, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“What, you don’t think we can be just bros?” Carlos gave him his ‘don’t bullshit me’ look, and TK stepped forward, face mere inches from each other and met his stare head-on, seeing which one would cave first.

He had read somewhere that if two people could hold eye contact in very close vicinity without looking away from each other for 10 seconds, their relationship would be purely platonic. He’s lost every single time since the first time they tried it, but he was determined to win this time.

And as always, his conviction wavered whenever he gazed into those ridiculously loving brown eyes that seemed to have a limitless amount of fondness and affection.

Sighing, TK stepped back at the 8 second mark, ignoring Carlos’ smug smile.

“...you’re right, we absolutely can’t. I love doing non-bro things with you too much for that.” TK knew he was probably pouting slightly, but accepted the hand extended towards him regardless, stepping into Carlos’ space once again.

“Let’s never revisit this topic again.” 

“Agreed.” 

  (On the other side:

“Young love really hits differently, don’t you think?” The elderly couple had stopped to look back, smiling in amusement when they were greeted with the two men lost in their own world, unaware of anything around them other than each other.

“While that may be true dear,” the elderly man wraps a gentle arm around his wife, and the same cheeky smile that had made her heart skip a beat from their very first meeting shone on his face full-force, almost taking the breath out of her lungs.

“I’d also say that love only ripens with time.” )

 .

It was different, this time.

The first time they had met his family, it was when he was caught off guard and still uncertain on a lot of things. It had been terrifying, wanting to shout out from the rooftops about how much he loved one man but also at the same time not quite ready to do so.

This time, he had known his parents would be here, and although he knew they might bump into each other, he chose to go with TK anyway.

Unlike the first time, it was TK who spotted his parents first. Carlos felt a light squeeze of his hand and looked up to see his boyfriend tilting his head quickly towards two familiar figures, his expression growing hesitant.  

“You should go say hi. I’ll wait here.” TK murmured softly, eyes filled with nothing but understanding and love. Carlos knew he meant it, that he would gladly stay put to not put Carlos in the awkward position he had been in just a few weeks before.

Seeing the overwhelming love and understanding never wavering from TK’s gaze, Carlos felt something settle in his chest.

“No.”

He tugged on their intertwined hands sharply before TK could comprehend what was happening, and pulled them towards where their parents were standing, his mother pointing at a snow globe on display through the window of one of the shops.

His father spotted him first this time, giving him a warm smile and called out his name cheerfully, before his eyes lowered to their clasped hands. Carlos squeezed TK’s hand tighter and straightened, breathing in deeply. His mother turned at his father’s call, a bright smile on her lips.

“Carlitos! What a surprise – “ Andrea greeted warmly, before her eyes also lowered to their hands, widening in surprise.

“Mom. Dad.” Carlos greeted nervously, and felt a wave of courage when TK squeezed his hand in support. “This is my boyfriend, TK.”

And with those five words, it was as if a dam finally broke, his chest suddenly feeling lighter than they had in years. His gaze didn’t waver from his parents. TK was the only one who could feel how sweaty his palms were, and yet, he only clutched him tighter.

This game of theirs would end right here, and right now.

“Carlos.”

Carlos blinked in surprise as his mother’s eyes filled with happy tears. He looked towards his father to see him still sporting a warm smile, unwavering even at his declaration.

His parents looked like they wanted to say more, but his mother shot him a playful glare, silently telling him that they would definitely be having a proper conversation during their family dinner in a few days, before turning their attention to TK.

“TK, was it?” Andrea said kindly, and Carlos felt TK tensing beside him. He turned to see TK smile nervously, reaching behind him with his other hand to wipe it discretely on the back of his pants. The little action had Carlos chuckle quietly, chest filling with so much love for the man standing beside him.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” Andrea smiled, and this time, when Gabriel stuck out his hand to shake TK’s, he hung on for longer.

“It’s a pleasure.” It was a little scary, how his father and TK seemed to be having a silent conversation with their hands clasped tightly, before they finally let go.

“You know, we’re having a family dinner this weekend.” Andrea pitched in as she looked at them both, eyes twinkling with nothing but familial affection. Carlos immediately understood what wasn’t being said, and smiled. He turned to TK, who was already looking at him and squeezed his hand.

“Only if you want to come.” TK’s smile softened at that, and turned to give Andrea and Gabriel a charming smile. Carlos hid his own smile when he saw that his mother was instantly charmed, and honestly, it might be a Reyes thing, to be immediately affected by TK’s everything.

“I would love to.”

“Wonderful! That settles it then, we’ll let you two off. We can talk more this weekend.” Andrea grinned, before fixing Carlos with a look, telling him that they would definitely be sitting down sooner than that, much to his wary amusement. He hugged both his parents, longer than usual this time, before they waved them off.

It had been a long time, since he felt this free.

“Hey Carlos?”

Carlos turned to TK, who was looking at him with overwhelming emotion swimming in his gaze, making his heart pound loudly in his chest.

“Hm?”

TK lifted a hand to cup his jaw, running his thumb gently across his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.”

  (On the other side:

“Did you see the way those two looked at each other?” Andrea murmured to her husband quietly, and Gabriel smiled, nodding. TK, the sweet boy, looked like Carlos was the best thing that could have happened in the world and their son had looked at him the same way.

“We really lucked out as parents-in-law, didn’t we?” Gabriel grinned cheekily, and Andrea swatted him lightly.

“You better not say that in front of our son during dinner; we wouldn’t want to send him to an early grave.” )

 .

They didn’t tell his team about the little game they had going on until a little over a year later, and all of them had varying expressions of disbelief on their faces as they stared at the couple, dumbfounded.

“You seriously called him your bro? A homie?” 

“Really? That’s what you took from all that?”

“Sweet home Alaba-“ 

“How does that even play into this?” 

TK shook his head at his friends teasing, rolling his eyes as Marjan nudged him playfully.

“So? What’s this about tossing salads?” Marjan grinned, and TK groaned, pressing a palm to his face in mild embarrassment.

That hadn’t been his finest moment.

“No, I’m curious too. Not only are you tossing salads, but also driving motorcycles? While making sexual puns? Man, I wish I was there.” Paul snickered. They were all supposed to be doing the normal chores around the station, but when Carlos had let it slip about their little game from a year ago, all work had evaporated from their minds in favour of teasing their favourite subject of their clearly fake affections.

“I would give anything to see their parent’s faces when the kids ask them what it meant.” Mateo chipped in, and TK shuddered.

Hopefully they wouldn’t be seeing them anytime soon. So far so good, considering it had been a year.

“So? Which one was your favourite?” Judd asked, not even bothering to pretend he was cleaning as he leaned against a table, his arms crossed loosely.

“My what favourite?”

“Which role-play did you enjoy the most?” Judd clarified with a smirk, and TK threw a washcloth at him without missing a beat, scowling as they all laughed.

“You guys all suck.”

There was a pause, where they eagerly waited for him to answer.

“There was no favourite, per say.” TK hummed finally, an unconscious smile on his lips as the memories took him back. In truth, he had suggested the game for a reason he couldn’t quite explain himself. But when he sat on Carlos’ counter, watching him cook dinner from his failed attempt at buying groceries, remembering what they had talked about just weeks before that…it had been a spontaneous thought. He hadn’t delved too deep into it, other than how fun it was to rile each other up.

“How about my fiancé?” 

TK stilled. The entire station had suddenly quieted, and looking up, he noticed all his friends were wide-eyed as they looked at something behind him. He saw his dad peeking down from the balcony, a knowing shine in his eyes, and slowly turned around.

Carlos stood there, a flicker of nervousness passing through his gaze. One of his hands reached into his pants pocket, and TK felt his eyes widening further as Carlos dropped to one knee, in front of the entire station. 

Oh my god.

He could barely hear what Carlos was saying during his speech as he clutched a ring box, his senses filled with the image of his boyfriend – soon to be fiancé – kneeling down in front of him with a hopeful look in his eyes, lifting the opened ring box a little higher as if the ‘yes’ wasn’t already threatening to spill out of TK’s lips.

“TK?” Carlos looked concerned now, and he realized that he was just staring at him, jaw dropped in shock, any words he was trying to say coming out in strangled sounds. Clearly, his words were failing him at the moment, so he pulled Carlos off of the floor, nodding furiously as his vision blurred. But even through the blurry haze, he could see Carlos’ beaming smile clear as day.

He watched, mesmerized, as Carlos slowly slipped the ring onto his finger, and he was distantly aware that there was a lot of screaming going on behind him, the majority of it coming from his crew. When he felt his voice starting to work again, he pulled Carlos into a tight hug, pulling back only to scowl at him playfully, smacking his shoulder.

“You idiot.” TK’s voice shook with emotion as he looked down at the shiny new addition to his left ring finger, before looking at Carlos again, eyes warm with fondness and slight exasperation. 

“You couldn’t have waited until I had your ring with me?” 

 (He dropped onto one knee later that night, in the middle of dinner, and TK would never forget the beautiful watery smile that graced Carlos’ lips in response as another ‘yes’ resounded through the air)

 .

“Wow, look at him! That was so cool!”

Carlos turned his gaze from TK who was responding to Paul’s high-five at the server ace to see two kids staring at his husband in awe.

“They’re really Austin’s finest for a reason, huh.” One of them noted cheerfully, before furrowing his eyebrows when he spotted something on TK’s back.

“Aww, they only put last names on their shirts…” He trailed off, and Carlos hid a smile behind the palm of his hand.

“Excuse me?”

Carlos looked up, giving the two kids a warm smile.

“Yes?”

One of the boys pointed to TK, or more specifically, the Strand-Reyes embroidered proudly on the back of his number ’20’ jersey.

“Do you know who that is?”

Carlos’ smile turned into a grin, “Yeah, I know who that is.” He turned slightly so the boys could see his own jersey, watching as their eyes widened in awe.

“He’s my husband.”

Extra scene:

“At some point you’re going to have to blink, Carlos.” 

Carlos turned to see Owen, his father-in-law for the past three hours, 43 minutes, and 22 seconds smiling at him warmly. He turned back to where TK was laughing with his parents, his father clapping him on the back at something he said. 

“He’s my husband,” Carlos’ heart swelled with love for the man standing a little way away from him for the millionth time that day, “I don’t plan on missing a single second of this.”

[thebadchoicemachine]

For the writing prompt, what about ghost!Robin and Catboy!Corpse seeing present day Cornelius/Dream? Like Dream being confused and happy about his Partner and Son’s Ghosts being there and everyone else being v confused about the two random people calling him Cornelius and knowing him from a hundred years ago.

anon im so sorry. This has been sitting in my inbox for months now but I just cannot finish this story. it a really cool idea though. Here’s my incomplete first draft. I just copy and paste it from my wip to here so this is it, notes and cuts and typos and all. 

The idea is Karl shows up when they’re in the prison and they see the false timeline where Cornelius was a killer and are forced to accept he sucks

_________________

- The execution cell was supposed to be merciful, a more civilized solution than being beat to death, but everything about it made Robin gag. He hoped he would never ever end up in it. 

tw: implied indirect suicide, major death but they’re ghosts(?) 

--•-•-*-•-•-- 

Colors and colors and colors wouldn’t stop melting and mixing and swirling. They surrounded him. They were in him. They were him. He breathed them in without breathing, he bled them without blood, he was falling and flying and stood completely still. 

And then it was dark. No, then it was light. White and clean like the marble of a palace Robin knew he would never get to see. 

Where... where was he? He’d won hadn’t he? They’d... killed... him. They’d killed everyone. 

He wanted to die. He had to. There was boiling in his blood he couldn’t ease, he had to die, he needed them to hate him. To end him. The Jester’s Curse. Cursed to be wronged, to be hurt, to be freed. 

He’d always had it, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t know why he resisted for so long. Perhaps, despite everything, he’d enjoyed living at one point. Despite what he was, despite his curse, despite bring a jester, he wanted to live! At some point he couldn’t care less about tricking others into condemning him to the grave. 

After Cornelius, after Cat, he didn’t even fight it nor could he fight for it. He didn’t even care. Even as the ground swallowed him up in flames of the execution he held no harmony. No peace. There was no joy in his victory, there was no meaning to his death. Even in fulfilling it, he’d denied his curse. 

That’s why he was still here, wasn’t it? Jesters want to die, they want to transform, to be released into vengeful spirits of lies and trickery. He was... dead. He was also... still here... why? He knew why. He didn’t think he liked the answer. 

Robin couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand to bother mourning anymore. Not himself, not his long-dead family, not his new fath- he choked. He didn’t know know on what, he had no air, no lungs. He just couldn’t finish the thought. 

“We never did make it official, did we?” A solemn, comforting, voice rang out.

Robin spun around. No. What? No, it’s not. It is. He is. Right there. Standing- no, not standing. Neither of them can stand. Not floating either just… there… was Cat. 

Robin felt his eyes fill up with tears, he didn’t know how, he didn’t care. He flew into his friend’s arms. 

“Woah! Ah, be careful, child.”

“H-how,” Robin sobbed into his chest. “How are you…”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I th-thought that was because of my c-curse.”

Cat sighed, gently ruffling the child’s hair.  

“No,” he spoke, finally. “I don’t think that’s why any of us are here.”

“Then-”

“No, I don’t think it’s what happens to everyone either. I’ve been alone as far as I can tell. I haven’t found anyone else. Not even…” he sighed again. 

Robin understood. Cornelius was gone. 

“I’m so sorry, Robin.” Cat tightened his grip. “I’m so sorry for what we put you through. We promised we would give you a better life, a safer one, but we left you in the worst way possible. You were executed because... because of me.”

“Oh,” Robin stared down at his feet. “You... were there for that?”

“No. I wasn’t- I can’t- I don’t know how to explain it, I only know what happened. Exactly what happened. It was like living a story being told to you, as though a nar- narrating...

Narration. Something clicked in both of their minds. Wasn’t there some strange… the spirals… the colors… he didn’t have a name, not one he ever told them. He had simply showed up one day, right before it all began. He wasn’t there, not properly anyway,. but he was there. He was there in the backs of everyone’s minds. He was there as he explained away every awful thing like it was a footnote in a novel. He was there as he made and told truth. He was the Narrator. 

He had such an air of control, such an air of change. 

Thoughts (memories?) of a past that never happened flashed through Robin’s mind. Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk- NO. No. He swept the distraction from his mind. He wouldn’t get carried away, not this time.

The narrator. The Narrator. He had a book. A swirling and swishing mash of colors cover on his book he scribed all their horrors into. That’s where they were. 

“Cat, we need to go. He made a mistake. This… was his first time. We are not supposed to be here. We were never meant to leave. We should try to get out.”

Cat only nodded. Robin didn’t know why he understood or how deeply, but he did. This was a mistake.

The two began wandering the halls. It was strange, being able to think and move again as though his body was still his. To have his mind and thoughts working in a stream of consciousness instead of a thick muddy bog of echos. If he didn’t know any better he’d describe it as feeling more… alive.

He even reached out to guide Cat out of habit. How amazing was it that he had habits again? Cat allowed him to because he knew the comfort it gave him to have something so familiar. Although, of course, not really needing him to. They were both still dead, spirits, memories. Living- not living like this, detached, was like existing with a million tiny radars reaching out all around you. It wasn’t a matter of seeing or feeling, simply knowing. When you were so disconnected from life and itself you were able to get a much clearer and instant idea of the world, he supposed.

They walked and wandered in silence for a while. At least, a while from their perspective. Even with no real idea what or where they were Robin could tell time was… off… here. 

Eventually, they found their way out. There was no exit or pathway they walked through nor was it a sudden jump. They had just… made it out. They were standing beneath the shelter of some trees. It was raining. They were surrounded by unfamiliar structures and landscapes. Of course they were, but this wasn’t just some distant biome or kingdom it was…

“Robin? Are you alright?” 

“I- yes. I’m fine, Cat. This is- I mean, that place is just… wow.”

“It’s... different, yes. This rain is- hmm, it’s weird. I can’t feel it but I know it’s there. It’s making everything fuzzy.”

Robin stuck his hand out. The raindrops sizzled against his skin. He was so focused on the odd sensation he jumped when Cat yanked his arm back.

“What was that? Are you alright?”

“The rain, it stings.”

“Badly? Are you hurt?”

“Not really. It feels like I’m a bar of soap being whittled down by the drops but I’m fine. It only feels strange.”

“Oh, good,” Cat breathed a sigh of relief. “In that case, let’s keep moving.” 

Robin agreed. They didn’t have anywhere to go but neither felt like standing under the tree for all eternity. Besides, they were in a whole new world, maybe even a whole new dimension, and Robin was really curious to see what was with those strange building 

It all seemed impossible. 

His breath was taken away at every turn as they walked. Structures like nothing he’d ever seen before. There were so many colors, so many shapes, so many mechanics, so many things, and all so high and huge. It was amazing. 

“Slow down a little, this rain is really disorienting.”

“Sorry! Sorry, this place is just… wow.”

“So you’ve said,” Cat laughed. “What exactly is so amazing about it? Describe it to me.”

“Well, there’s so much of it. It’s like a town but nothing like a town at all. More like a whole kingdom. A very strange kingdom.  There’s no uniform to it, every build is unique. There was a castle we passed, it was huge and had so many colors! There were just rainbows and rainbows pouring out of every-”

“Mmm, interesting.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“This castle though, it felt like regret, didn’t it?”

“Y-yeah? Kinda,” Robbin had been trying to avoid thinking about that, how he could feel every building. “Uh, over to your side there is a pit, a giant crater bigger than our entire town! It’s tragic. It’s refreshing a little. It’s kind of…”

“Familiar. I- I don’t want to be near that, Robin. Let’s keep moving.”

Robin didn’t agree. He wanted to get closer, to feel what was so sad, so new, so ended, what about whatever tragedy there was familiar. He wanted to understand what he knew would hurt him, and why. 

*****

“No! He would never!” Cat’s voice was rising. It was honestly scary, Robin had never seen him so wrathful. “He is the kindest person you will ever know! He is a protector! He’s- he is-”

“Do you really believe that?” The Narrator asked, calm and unfazed, sorrow creeping into his question. Robin couldn’t shake it from his mind. His thoughts were ruffles like pages flipping backward in a book. Like a pencil rubbing revealing words erased and undone but that had still been written. He was sent back to his flashing memories, his lies, unable to stop them.  

Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk choosing wrong tonight. He’d been right to focus on himself. No, he’d been lucky. He’d panicked. Cat was out to the town now. Robin was out now. The killers knew they could stop them, they would be targets. The killers…

Part of him wanted to ignore it, to go back to thinking it couldn’t be one of them. That no one would do something like that, that is must be some outside force but Jimmy… they’d gotten him right. Robin winced at the memory of Helga, at how it had almost been him, but they’d gotten Jimmy right. He knew they had, the Narrator said so. 

The next morning, no one had died. Robin hadn’t needed to heal anyone. Cat reported Jack hadn’t left his home. It seemed like, well, it must be Jack. It just had to be, didn’t it? Robin frowned. He liked Jack enough, he didn’t want to kill anyone. He didn’t want to be wrong again but what choice did he have?

Jack was fighting. He was shouting, angry, scared. He was in the exact same place Robin had been a few nights ago. The familiarity burned inside his chest. He couldn’t stand any more of this, it needed to end tonight. 

“IT’S CORNELIUS!  IT’S HIM! IT HAS TO BE! Look at me. Look at me! You know me, I’m simple, I farm potatoes. If Helga was still here she’d remind yall I ain’t good for much else. You really think I could do this?”

Robin couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to spare everyone he could but… Cornelius? Could he really condemn him any more than he could Jack? Could he any less? 

“What makes you think it’s me and not one of them? I know you’re a killer, Jack. You guessed Cat would be on your trail tonight and didn’t kill. Why else wouldn’t someone be dead today?” Cornelius’s voice was as calm and upbeat as ever, if not a bit exasperated. 

“He’s smart! He’s too smart. Look at his freaky, calculatin’ eyes, if you can ever see them. Look at him! Hiding behind that mask, wearing that ridiculous green hood, what’s that smile for, huh? None of us should have trusted him the day he set foot in this town, make up for it now. C’mon! Cat, I know you’re better than murderin’ folks for mayhem. Bob, you’re as simple as me! Robin,” Robin froze up as he was addressed directly “You’re a child, a sweet one. I’m sorry you have to live through this. I’m sorry you’ve been where I am now but I only hope that gives you the empathy you need to make the right choice. It’s him. I swear it’s not me!”

Everything felt stifled. He muffled the distraught protests of Cat in favor of listening to his own. No. No, it couldn’t be.  Everyone in town used to be friendly but Cornelius was a friend. He and Cat had been there for Robin. They’d taken him in, cared for him, treated him as their own son. Well, Cat had. 

Robin slowly blinked. What had Cornelius done for him? Thinking this way made him sick but he needed to be rational here. Did he really believe Cornelius was innocent, truly? He trusted Cat. Cat had proof he was safe, even if he wasn’t an investigator he had years and years of kindness to back him up. What did Cornelius have, really? He was kind, decent enough, but so was Jack. So were Jimmy and Helga. That wasn’t something he could base his vote on. 

So what did make him so sure it wasn’t Cornelius? The only… he realized the only thing holding him up was Cat. Cat loved him. Robin wanted that to be enough. He wanted desperately to go back home, to lay in Cat’s lap while Cornelius told them stories. He wanted to retreat into his memories but when he tried they felt corrupted, tainted, hollow. 

Every time he tried to imagine the kind way Cornelius had ruffled his hair, how he’d giggle and blush after a kiss from Cat, how he’d take off his mask at home and join Robin sitting on the porch, every time he tried to lose himself in the memory of that soft, humored, smile he was frozen inside by the eyes. Even when they were sad or kind his eyes were always vibrant, sharp… calculating. 

Robin took a shaky breath. He didn’t like this, he didn’t want to do this, any of it. He was filled with a numb resolve as he cast his vote. He had no proof either was innocent but he had no reason to believe Jack was capable of this… he knew Cornelius was. 

“The voting has finished,” The Narrator began. “Jack... Jack is the most suspected but this means nothing. Cornelius, by 3/5ths of the vote you have been found guilty. Please, step into the chamber.”

-

“NO!” A scream cut through the faux memory, just barely. Just enough for Robin to hear it. Who had yelled? Cat? Cor- Dream? Himself? He didn’t know, he was still lost.

-

Lost… Robin was so lost. 3/5ths. Cornelius obviously voted for Jack and vice versa, Bob was on Jack’s side, Cat must have voted for Jack even if only to save his love. Robin had been the deciding vote. What had he done? Was he right? Cornelius gave him no answer as he calmly stepped into the cell. The Narrator blabbed on, explaining the votes and who and what but for the first time since the colorful stranger arrived Robin couldn't listen to a word he said, instead focusing on Cat. 

Cat had run to the jail, his hands reaching desperately through the bars. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this,” he kept repeating. His voice was calm and low but Robin could tell that was desperate. He was putting on an act, trying to reassure Cornelius as though it would all solve itself if he just kept together. Cornelius still didn’t speak. He took Cat’s hand and rested it on his face, under his mask.

Then the grate snaped close and Cat was forced to pull his hand back. He barely moved though, pressing his hands against the wire through the bars. Cornelius pressed his hand up from the other side. Maybe Cat could feel it, maybe he couldn’t, Robin didn’t know which he preferred. 

Part of Robin wanted to put him to back away, to warn him the bars and fence was there for a reason, but the rest of him knew he couldn’t. The least- the only thing he could do was allow Cat this brief moment of closure, if you could even call it that. 

Cornelius still kept silent, for just the briefest of moments Robin hated him. How dare he? How dare he sit there, keeping Cat suffering in silence? How dare he keep Robin in this horrid suspense? How dare he not admit his crimes or keep pleading his innocence? How dare he… how dare… then Robin heard Cat whimper and the anger was gone. 

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We-”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” The Narrator laughed, almost callously. If he wasn’t so detached from the world, so different from them he felt innocent even in cruelty, Robin might’ve felt like spitting on him. He couldn’t though, he was different. He was detached. He was like a child who didn’t know any better than to hurt others’ feelings. Like a child except instead of not knowing any better he knew too much. 

Maybe that’s why Robin didn’t lash out or protest as the narrator pulled the lever. Maybe that’s why he didn’t scream as the pistons shifted. Maybe that’s why he only closed his eyes and ignored the shouts of triumph. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at Jack and Bob for celebrating, at the moment he was only glad their cries drowned out the sizzle. 

[houserosaire]

Making Peace

           Silvaineaux recognized the man waiting for him at the small wooden table immediately, but he didn’t know him. Baron Vaelanys Solepine was his first cousin on his mother’s side, and they had never spoken more than ten passing words to each other in all their lives. Everything he knew of the man beyond that had come to him through the words of others: Ishgard’s ever present rumors, or assessments from the people in Priarch who had met him.

           His cousin was the one who had written to suggest they meet, and he had also been the one to choose this place. With that in mind Silvaineaux paused a moment to look the place over and to make his own judgment. They were not in Ishgard and the little Gridanian café his cousin had chosen seemed to Silvaineaux as if it scarcely deserved the name. It was a small collection of tables beneath the spreading branches of trees heavy with summer leaves. It was also nearly empty.

           A table of ladies not too nearby seemed to be discussing some sort of fiber work, and other than the elezen manning the small outdoor kitchen no one paid either of them any undue attention. Nothing about the place suggested confrontation or ambush, and a small portion of the tension in Silvaineaux’s shoulders eased. He stepped forward and Vaelanys rose immediately from his seat and the single cup that sat half-empty in front of him.

           They stared at each other a moment in silence. Vaelanys was not a tall man, Silvaineaux realized, with some surprise. He towered over him by a head, easily. He knew that Vaelanys had been a dragoon of no small repute, and looking at him now, he thought he might have known it even if no one had ever told him so. There was a certain tautness in the way the smaller elezen stood, like an arrow on a drawn bowstring waiting to be given flight. Every dragoon he had ever met held that same pent up force inside them.

           Silvaineaux only realized he had also been seeking some sign of his mother in the other man when he found it in the thick gloss of his wood brown hair. His skin too was fair as hers had been. But his eyes when he met them at last were more akin to his own. They did not match either. The right was the same distinct shade of amber gold he met in his own mirror over his shaving every morning, the left was a soft faintly blue shaded green. “Hello.” He managed when it occurred to him that one of them should speak.

           Vaelanys smiled with a seeming ease Silvaineaux could not find. “Hello. I wasn’t sure if you would actually come.”

           Silvaineaux nodded. “I wasn’t either.”

           Vaelanys’ smile faded, but he gestured graciously toward the table. “Have a seat?” He suggested, resuming his own.

           Silvaineaux took the empty chair across from him, once again fishing for words. He was grateful when the man from the kitchen spared him for a moment by coming to ask what he would like. “A cup of tea.” Was a far easier thing to say than to find the words to speak to this stranger who shared his blood. His eyes settled back on Vaelanys as the man retreated.

           Vaelanys looked at him in turn. For a moment Silvaineaux wondered if this would be it. They would simply sit across from each other in tense silence and drink their tea. But then Vaelanys broke the silence again. “I wish our families had never fallen out.” He said, cutting straight to the core of the matter, with a directness that somehow eased Silvaineaux more than anything else had done so far.

           “I suppose it would make having this conversation easier if they had not.” Silvaineaux agreed. “I have no idea what Inwa said to you, but you should know I did not ask it of him.”

           “If they had never fallen out we would not have to have this conversation.” Vaelanys agreed. “And I didn’t think you had asked it of him. I am not sure Rosaires ever ask…” But there he paused, lips twisting. “That almost sounded uncharitable and I didn’t mean it so. What I meant to say was that you are fortunate in your friends, and they clearly care about you enough to ask for help on your behalf even if you would not.”

           Silvaineaux’s jaw tightened, and he had just begun to push himself up from the table when the waiter returned and set a cup of tea in front of him. He held his place and his tongue until the man had gone. “I do not need help.” He said then, his voice carefully composed, but firm.

           Vaelanys sighed. “Of course you don’t.” He said crisply, lifting his own teacup with a movement that was just a hint too precise and taking a careful sip.

           Silvaineaux ignored his own cup for a moment, his eyes on Vaelanys. He wondered if this was all it would take for them to come to blows.

           Vaelanys lowered his cup carefully, looked up at him again, his mismatched gaze oddly disconcerting. “Forgive me.” He said slowly, but with what sounded like real sincerity. “I am going about this all wrong. Inwa told me that you have the Solepine eyes. I can see that he was right. But I assume no one can have taught you how to use the Sight?”

           Silvaineaux’s jaw tightened with memory, that blinding, dizzying webwork of lights and colors and the pounding wearying ache in his head that followed, when he finally found the way to make it stop. “The Sight?” He said, and took a sip of tea to resist the urge to rub his temples at the memory.

           “My- Our grandmother taught me to use mine.” Vaelanys said calmly, as if that were answer enough. “Your eyes are a bit like hers. They were gold and blue too, though the blue was lighter… like the sky. She should have taught you too.”

           Silvaineaux sighed and bit back the comment he wanted to make about unanswered questions. “She would not have.” He said.

           Vaelanys’ eyes lifted past his, distant with some memory he could not share. “I think she would have. If she had known you needed it. She used to talk about your mother. Wondering if she was well and happy. She missed her daughter.”

           “We do not need to hash this over.” Silvaineaux said, quashing the part of him that wanted to ask. “It was done.” He took another sip of his tea, trying to ignore the weight of his cousin’s eyes on him.

           “It was foolish.” Vaelanys said. “It was stupid pride on the part of people who are all gone now. And I am tired of carrying on their empty grudges. Your mother made her choice and she should not have needed to apologize for it.”

           “There was nothing wrong in her marrying my father.”

           “No.” Vaelanys agreed. “He was not a scandalous or disgraceful choice.”

           “He was her choice.”

           “Our grandfather was a fool about it. Grandmother said so sometimes.” Vaelanys offered him a small smile that somehow managed to convey a wealth of regret. “And because of all that Grandmother is no longer here to teach you.”

           Silvaineaux nodded, helped himself to another sip of his tea. “Your letter said you thought that you could teach me. Could you?”

           Vaelanys looked at him again, his gaze keen and searching. “I think I could. If you were willing to learn. Are you?”

           Silvaineaux lowered his own eyes to his cup as he considered. He wanted nothing to do with it. But perhaps, like feuds one was born into, some things were not a choice. “I am not sure. I have no skill with magic.”

           “Do not think of it as magic.” Vaelanys said calmly. “Think of it as… a muscle you have not exercised. I think we could manage.”

           “And what do you want in exchange?”

           Vaelanys curled his hands around his cup, considering. Silvaineaux noticed they were stained with ink like a scribe’s. “I didn’t intend for it to be an exchange. But if you must give it some weight consider it the belated apology I am not too proud to give.”

           Silvaineaux gulped down the rest of his tea. “Alright.” He pushed himself to his feet. “This time next week?”

           “Every week for some time, I should think. But yes.” ((Both characters and all this silly family drama and weird inherited aethersight are mine. Just mostly self-indulgent nonsense trying to figure out how they’d address this. @daylightrays for mention of Inwa. Vaelanys is here: @thornsofsunlight ))

[darknessisafriend]

Commodus the whore of the Empress Part 3

I felt inspired to write part 3 thanks to a wonderful dream I had (which I described here with photo references) Part 1 and 2 here!

“I have organized a party tonight. To celebrate my arrival to power and the success of my rule.” You spoke as you worked; your eyes focused on your hand signing some papers the scribes handed you. You were devoted to your duty towards the Senate, but you hated paperwork, you much preferred concrete actions, just like your predecessor. Commodus had been standing by your side, his hands clasped in front of him, waiting to satisfy your every desire, making sure you stayed hydrated and didn’t forget to eat, and of course, quietly listening to you.

“The Empress deserves to celebrate her victory. In the corridors, the People speak very well of you.” He replied respectfully but with some kind of softness showing through his tone. You smiled at this revelation; you appreciated how devoted to you he was, how he listened in every corners to what the People talked about; despite everything he had proven himself to be one of your most loyal subjects.

“Oh, one more thing…you will assist to the celebration. I have personally selected the most beautiful slaves and servants to make the night even more enjoyable.” You smirked, you were looking forward to your first party as the Empress of the Roman Empire, and the former emperor now your whore by your side. “You should be flattered I chose you to be among them.” You added towards the young man; was it an attempt to flirt? neither of you knew why you had let this out. But then, you sighed as you felt tension in him, more like apprehension; you closed yourself again because of the semblance of affection you had let out “What is Commodus? Speak or leave but stop vexing me.” Your tone came out harsher than you meant it to be, but paperwork annoyed you to the highest point and sometimes you couldn’t help but remain on your guards. He slightly danced on his feet, unsure but not daring to disobey you.

“There will be people who will recognize me and it-it’s…I fear how they will treat me, Your Majesty.” He slightly stuttered, ashamed to be nervous in front of his Empress.

“Your presence is precisely because they will recognize you. We need to show them your new status, don’t we?” you hid a smirk, leaning back in your chair as you detailed his god-like face; you took a real pleasure in this decision “But don’t worry, I won’t tolerate them to disrespect me by mistreating, mocking or even touching my favorite whore.” You heard him sigh in relief, that was all he needed to hear, that he remained under your protection and at your service.

“I am grateful Empress; I do not deserve such kind treatment.” He still said, he could have expected to be humiliated and abused in public by the one who took his place but he was starting to know you and somehow he hardly believed you would hurt him, as long as he fucked you well at least….

“Did I tell you that you could give me your opinion on the way I treat you? Perhaps you would prefer to be beaten by the guards and badly fed? You have been a good and docile whore, and never disappointed me; quite the contrary. Hardly any man made me come like you do. So, you deserve to be rewarded. Don’t question my generosity again, Commodus.”

“Yes, Empress. Forgive me.” He apologized, you waved your hand dismissively, not holding it against him and then sighed annoyed by the work in front of you.

“How could you handle this much boring paperwork?” you finally asked, for once referring to his past position; you leaned forward on your desk, resting your elbows on it, looking at him expectantly and ready to listen to him.

“I agree it is not the most exciting thing to work on, but it is essential to the duty of Emperor… or Empress in your case.” He gave a small and barely hidden affectionate smile “I told myself I was enduring all of this for the People, my children. It might sound foolish, but this only thought made the task less boring.” He remembered, wondering what you would think about such answer. A pleased smile formed on your lips.

“I appreciate the advice Commodus. Now leave; I don’t require your services for the rest of the afternoon. You shall wear clothes made especially for tonight’s event.” You dismissed him casually; he bowed to you, and it always amazed you how it didn’t feel mechanic with him, like most people…it felt as if he really wanted to bow to you, show respect and love for his Empress. And that was how he felt, since he had become your slave, he had never been so well treated and cared for, he was happy to serve you, nothing to worry about but please you, and in one of the most exquisite way. And in return he had a beautiful Empress looking at him, sometimes even smiling or dropping hints of affection in her words…just for him.

The evening finally came and the time for the celebration as well. You were covered in compliments and other socialites talks. But of course, many talked about the fallen Emperor; you could hear the muffled laughs and excited hushed whispers of the guests, hoping to see your famous slave, the defeated Emperor Commodus. How humiliating they imagined it to be; and how far they were from the truth.

“If any of you dares to disrespect me by mocking the slaves I generously provide to entertain us tonight; you will be punished.” You warned the guests, keeping a charming smile. And all knew that it was even more dangerous when you did that, like the former Emperor. Your eyes scanned the room, making sure all had understood before gesturing to the guards to make the beautiful minions, concubines and others who were part of the harem of the former Emperor enter. Except that this time, he was one of them.

And you finally saw him enter the dining room, barely dressed; of course, he didn’t wear the famous golden laurel crown nor his rings…you wore them. You had him wear a gorgeous long necklace made of gold and red rubies which covered part of his sculpted chest, perfectly matching with the golden tone of his skin. The only piece of clothing he wore was a short tunic, only covering his hips and manhood; that was only a sight for you. But it wouldn’t be fun if there wasn’t a bit of edge and provocation in his outfit, no, his tunic barely covered his ass, the fabric almost transparent to let imagination run wild and it was for all to see, and what an incredibly nice view it was…Commodus may have the most skilled tongue in all Rome but he also had the most beautiful bottom of the Empire.

Of course, the moment he had entered the dining room, all eyes were on him, the guest blown away by the beauty of this beautiful slave, how lucky was the Empress to have him as her personal slave. You couldn’t help but grin at the effect he had on them; it was indeed an exceptional sight, the once much feared Emperor, barely clothed and ready to serve the new Empress.

You could feel anxiety radiate off him, he tried to avert his gaze and look at the ground as much as possible, but he couldn’t help but look for his master, his Empress…you; you found it truly adorable. As if he felt your eyes on him, he finally found you among the crowd, the both of you looked at each other for long seconds. Until you gestured for him to approach and he couldn’t have been happier, he felt protected by your side, and comfortable as if it was his natural place…maybe it was, he thought.

And you didn’t expect to enjoy his presence by your side so much, somehow you felt stronger, perhaps because it reminded you of your victory or perhaps because you trusted him, since that night where he suggested a better pillow for you and simply slept without any attempt for revenge.

“Commodus. I want you to look in front of you. You are serving the Empress and as such you can be proud of the privilege you are granted.” You instructed him; you didn’t care if it wasn’t following the custom. The young man instantly obeyed, his eyes scanning the room like he used to “They fear me and seeing you standing proud by my side, they will fear you too. Now…turn around, I want to make sure you are perfectly prepared.” You request, turning your head to detail him.

“I hope the empress will find me to her liking.” He spoke respectfully but with a discreet hopeful smile on his lips as he turned around, letting you detail his toned skin and muscles shinning at the light of the torches. And indeed, you found him very much to your liking…probably the greatest victory gift you could have ever received.

“I am pleased indeed. Now, parade for me, my whore. And serve them well.” You shamelessly looked at his ass as he walked away, taking a tray of cups of wine and serving the guests. Despite a situation prone to humiliation, he couldn’t help but feel pride as he felt your eyes fixated on him, he didn’t dare to think you would feel any affection for him and yet, there had to be something more than just being pleased with his servitude. He was probably the happiest servant, and under your protection he felt his usual defying attitude come back as he faced the guest, he was untouchable.

As the night started you went to sit and enjoy a few mundanities with chosen guests; actually you had invited only women at your table, the senators and other nobles were placed elsewhere; otherwise it wouldn’t be a fun night.

As you enjoyed the night, you noticed many of the guests had only eyes for your Commodus and that it wouldn’t take much longer for them to touch him, and you didn’t want that and even if he did his best to play his part, he couldn’t stop but throw looks at you, aching to be standing close to you. Having pity of your boy, with your fingers, you gestured for him to join you; he respectfully bowed his head as he came to stand by your side, your hand came up to caress his ass, doing it naturally like anyone would on their slave.

Then, you smiled mischievously as you took off your laurel crown, your fingers slowly brushing over the golden leaves; Commodus’ eyes were following your fingers, he was completely at your mercy.

“Kneel, slave.” You ordered him, not even looking at him and you could feel how he craved just for you to look at him. From the corner of your eyes you saw him execute himself, dutifully waiting for your next move. You played a bit more with the laurel crown before putting it on top of his head like he usually wore it.

“Aren’t you pretty with this crown…right little Caesar?” you teased him, the guests silently chuckling and Commodus blushing; there was a time where he would killed anyone who dared to treat him this way but not anymore, especially with you.

“I live to please my-…the Empress.” He replied realizing too late that he had made a mistake and in return he received a slap in the face from you; his face blushing even more as he looked at the ground; it was humiliating but it send butterflies down his belly ‘now wasn’t the time to get aroused’ he thought. Sometimes you tolerated it in private, but in public? No, you couldn’t show your weakness. Still, you couldn’t help but gently stroke his cheek afterwards, he leaned into your soothing palm.

“Next time, it will be spanking. Go get me a cup of the best wine we have.” You ordered him almost too softly…as for Commodus ‘spanking?’ Coming from you he would certainly enjoy it. He nodded before getting up, eager to please you again and hoping for your forgiveness.

“For you Empress, wine from Lutetia.” He bowed his head, presenting the cup to you which you took and tasted. A smirk escaped your lips, flavorful, strong, deep…a bit like him actually; of course, he knew the perfect wine for you.

“Your majesty, do you know that the People are still talking about Maximus the Spaniard? He is like a hero to them…” asked one of your guests, knowing well it would bother the fallen Emperor. You felt him tense, clenching his jaw but keeping his eyes on the ground, closely listening to the conversation; he wondered what you thought about Maximus, you were part of the uprising that lead to his fall, after all it wouldn’t be surprising if you were a fan of the gladiator.

“The People always need a hero, let them honor who they want. I have to admit I rather enjoyed his fights in the Coliseum. My predecessor was right, it was unlike anything seen before. I might even grant them a celebration in honor of his death…” You replied taking a sip of your wine; Commodus face was red with anger, how much he hated Maximus, and his death hadn’t changed anything.

As you continued to talk about Maximus, your hand gave a push to his lower back, making him understand that you wanted him to sit on your lap. To your greatest pleasure he didn’t hesitate. Of course, he was rather heavy, he was well built after all but you didn’t mind, to have this once powerful and strong man at your orders was truly exciting. Commodus enjoyed being at your mercy, he didn’t have to think, he simply had to obey your orders and satisfy all your needs and what better to do than please his Empress? And in return your cared for him and pampered him if he was a good boy…he would have never imagined, in his wildest dreams to be allowed to sleep by your side.

You loosely wrapped your arm around his hips, your hand resting on his thigh. You could feel goosebumps form on his skin under your touch. With your other hand, you took an olive, presenting it to his mouth, Commodus was a gourmand and you wanted him to enjoy the food tonight “Open your mouth.” You asked him; his eyes met yours, with you he was allowed such affront; and his eyes never left yours as he obeyed, letting you slowly slide the food between his lips, the tip of your fingers brushing against his tongue.

“Thank you, Empress.” He breathed; the words barely audible to anyone else but you. His eyes left yours to linger on your lips in a moment of wandering; until he realized what he was doing and averted his eyes, looking away. Of course, it didn’t escape you, but you let it go, it was flattering. You brought your mouth close to his ear.

“For once I will ask you to be quiet, Commodus.” You mysteriously asked him, he briefly looked at you confused, but slowly nodded.

It was when he felt your hand slide underneath his short tunic that he understood what you meant. The table hid what was going on, but his whole-body reaction, it will be hard to hide. He took a deep breath when your hand reached his manhood, lightly brushing over his soft pubic hair, then his inner thigh. He couldn’t help but slightly wiggle on your lap, hoping for more.

“I do remember Maximus, what a man of great entertainment he was. The way he provoked the Emperor, turned his back on him…what a wonderful sight.” You knew those words would pique Commodus, but what could he say or do when you pronounced those words and finally grabbed his member, slowly getting hard under your teasing. He pinched his lips together in anticipation.

“It is true that many ladies would have paid for a night with the Spaniard, but Lucilla kept him all for herself. How selfish!” Replied one of your guests, oh yes his sister was another sensitive subject for him. You slowly started to stroke him, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip making him swallow back a moan.

“Maximus wasn’t too bad to look at, but I did enjoy his adversary just as much. Very nice fighting skills for an emperor…according to his reputation I never expected him to actually have the courage to fight a gladiator.” It was a backhanded compliment that made some guests laugh, but he took it as just a compliment and how good it was to be appreciated by his master.

“The dark brooding looks and icy eyes that didn’t hesitate to kill…rather exciting.” You tightened your grip on his throbbing cock, he squeezed his eyes shut, slightly arching his hips against your hand ‘more, please more!’

“A dangerous man is exciting not like our old senators of husbands!” replied one with a scoff

“And look at him now, he is a very good boy.” You purred increasing the pace ‘Oh yes, I’m a good Empress, only for you…’ a strangled moan escaped his mouth, with that pace, he was close, so close and it was so hard to keep silence.

“Be quiet, beautiful boy.” You whispered as you leant closer to his ear, he tried to nod but is whole body was in ecstasy, his breathing fast, just a bit more, that’s all he needed. Another moan escaped his lips a second time, a desperate whimper which made you stop; he didn’t play by the rules and was noisy.

“Is he alright?” one of the guests couldn’t help but ask. It is true that he might have looked in pain, maybe he was, but a pleasurable one, he was so close to climax, completely at your mercy.

“Are you?” you repeated, making him whimper in need, he hated this denial and yet it was extremely exciting.

“I-I am very much okay…my Lady. Thank you for asking.” He answered not meeting her eyes, his voice trembling with desire. You guests smiled, so that was the fallen emperor, not so threatening anymore, he could be used for anything.

“You surely have the most beautiful slave in the whole Empire, your majesty. I wish you would grant me a bit of time with him, but I would perfectly understand if you wanted to keep him all for yourself.” One dared to ask, that was a daring request and you didn’t especially appreciate it. Yet, you smirked amused by Commodus nervously and lightly wiggling on your lap, waiting for your decision.

“Wouldn’t that be amusing little Caesar?” you teased him, slowly caressing his muscular thigh, you won’t bring him satisfaction, not yet.

“I am only your slave, not theirs, Empress” You retained a chuckle, to them he sounded condescend but that’s exactly what you wanted to hear; you placed a feather-like kiss on his shoulder to reward him and he let out a shuddering breath in return.

“He is mine. Nobody touches him. I am generous enough to allow people to look at him in such a lustful way. Don’t dare to ask for the property of Empress again.” You replied firmly but keeping a sweet and dangerous smile. You felt Commodus sigh in relief, glad that you wanted him only for yourself, perhaps it meant you care about him more than you shown?

“Of course, my Lady. Forgive my bold request.” With a wave of your hand you dismissed the guests from your table, you had enough of them, and you were much more interested in Commodus.

“Kiss me, my whore.” You looked at Commodus in the eyes, and the blush that formed on his cheeks was a wonderful sight. He leaned towards your face, giving you a quick kiss on the lips, he was careful, not knowing what you expected and aware of many guests witnessing the scene. You chuckled at the kiss, he felt like a shy young man kissing for the first time; you seized his chin, making him look at you in the eyes.

“Kiss me like you mean it. Use that gorgeous tongue of yours” You ordered him a second time…the glow in his eyes changed, something darker, animal; one of those looks he sometimes gave you when you had sex and you loved feral Commodus, always the best. His eyes lingered on your lips before he leaned closer again, slowly placing his lips on yours but the pressure against your mouth was very real. Soon, you felt something wet, his tongue caressing your lips, and how could you resist to such request? You opened your mouth, letting him in, tasting, feeling his tongue against yours; the kiss wasn’t all sweet, no, it was full of desire, fierce and filled with…affection; you couldn’t say how exactly you could tell but you felt it and it sent butterflies down your belly. You didn’t want this to end but you couldn’t show to the senators and guest that you were having growing feelings for the fallen Emperor.

“Go to my chambers, strip down and wait for me…my lo-…Commodus.” You whispered affectionately against his lips; your face going back to an indifferent mask, hiding the feelings that had started to grow for him for the past days. He blinked a few times and hid a soft smile, but his eyes couldn’t hide his happiness for your words.

“I shall be waiting and ready to serve you, Empress.” He answered on the softest tone, leaving your lap to head to your chambers that it seemed we would share with you permanently from now on.

Commodus harem:

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