#i’m glad they brought back some of the past collections in stock

[sunkissedlouis]

Did you buy anything?

heyyyy anon!! i got the walls with swirls hoodie in white 🥺 i wanted that one or the black and pink ver (which was sold out quick 😭). i’m thinking of getting the pink summer hoodie too but i’m not sure yet haha

wbu anon, are you getting anything?

[moonstruckme]

i love poly! Marauders♡

could you make a one shot where the reader gives the boys flowers and handmade gifts for the first time after their first month of relationship?

xoxo

Ugh yes our boys don't get enough gifts! Thanks for requesting gorgeous :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

When Sirius answers the door to the apartment he shares with his boyfriends to find you standing there with a bouquet of flowers, he very nearly panics. Naturally, his first thought is of the worst-case scenario: someone else has gotten you flowers, and you’ve decided to break it off with them and be with that fucker. Alternatively, you’re upset that they haven’t gotten you flowers in nearly a week (would those ones have died already? Sirius knows next to nothing about flowers; Remus is supposed to stay on top of that) and have brought an arrangement for them to give you as a not-so-gentle-nudge. He might be sick.

But you’re not deserving of the snappy response that comes to his lips, so Sirius swallows and tries to find his gentlest voice. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’re those for?”

You grin until your cheeks dimple, flushing in the way Sirius has grown familiar with over the past few weeks: you’re excited, but a bit embarrassed to show it. “Happy one-month anniversary,” you say, extending the bouquet to him as James and Remus come into the room behind him, intrigued by what’s keeping their boyfriend so long at the door. Your eyes dart between the three of them in that nervous way of yours as you explain in a rush, “I know it’s silly, but I’ve just been wanting to give you all gifts for a while now, and no one’s birthday is coming up for months.”

“Thanks, dove.” Remus is the first of them to reply, nudging past Sirius to take the flowers from you. James is grinning so hugely it’s pushing his eyes nearly closed, and Sirius suspects he’s staring at you like you’ve hung the moon. “These are beautiful. It’s a month today, really?”

You nod bashfully. 

“Then shit,” Sirius says, collecting himself, “you’re not silly; we’re ridiculous for forgetting! Come on in, sweet thing.” He grins at you, and when you shy, as you are wont to do, at his brash manner, James takes your hand and encourages you through the doorway. “Do we have some wine or chocolate or something?”

“We do,” Remus replies, disappearing into the kitchen. “And grapes. Are you alright with white wine, dovey?” You hum in affirmation, and Sirius thanks Merlin for his refined boyfriend, without whom he and James would stock the apartment entirely with crisps and pot noodles. 

James takes you to the living room, sitting you beside him, probably not as close as he’d like but wary of making you jumpy. Sirius isn’t so cautious, plopping down next to you so that your legs and hips are squished together simply because he delights in making you flush. 

“Leave off ‘er,” James says defensively, and Remus returns, laying the snacks and refreshments on the table before sitting beside Sirius and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Sirius huffs in protest, but goes willingly. 

His problem taken care of, James turns his attention back to you. “Thanks for the flowers, sweetheart,” he says, and Sirius notices that Remus must have found a vase for them while he was in the kitchen. They’re sitting in the center of the coffee table, arranged prettily in water. “You didn’t need to get us a gift, but that’s so lovely of you.” 

You bite your lip, and Sirius knows you have something to say before you say it. “I, um…” you play with your fingers. He wants to take them in his hands, spreading each one between his own. “I’m really glad you like them, but those actually aren’t the gifts I was talking about.” 

Sirius watches as James’ expression turns giddy at the plural there. Gifts. 

You reach into your bag and pull out a pair of gloves. They’re gray, and they look thick, like they’re made out of some sort of knit material. They’re also huge. You extend them to Remus. “I know you can never find ones that fit,” you say hesitantly, “so I’m hoping these might work? I couldn’t measure to get it exactly right, but I think they’re big enough.” 

Remus takes them with something akin to awe in his expression, and Sirius’ mouth goes dry as realization dawns upon him. He’d always thought Remus cut the fingers off his gloves because it looked cool (admittedly, there had been several years when Sirius had copied him for that very reason), but it was because they didn’t fit. His lengthy, slender fingers had to be too long for most gloves. Sirius felt stupid for not realizing it. He glances at James, finding a similar expression of dumbfounded epiphany on his boyfriend’s face. They’d both known Remus for years, and you’d picked up on his plight over the course of a month.

“Did you make these?” Remus breathes, taking the gloves from you gingerly. 

“Mhm,” you nod, proud and sheepish at the same time. “I crocheted them.”

“You…they’re perfect. Thank you, dove.” Remus looks the softest Sirius thinks he’s ever seen him, and he feels like someone’s scooped out his guts and replaced them with syrup. 

“No problem.” Your cheeks dimple as you duck your head, digging through your bag again. This time you emerge with something red, also crocheted, and vaguely rectangular, turning to James.

He looks at you adoringly as he takes it, but it’s clear he’s as clueless about what it is as Sirius feels. 

“It’s a glasses case,” you supply. “I don’t know if you even want one, but you’re always breaking them by knocking them off the nightstand, and I thought maybe it’d help.” You shrink a bit. “Don’t worry about it if you don’t want to use it.” 

“‘Course I’m using it.” James sounds appalled, and he takes your hand in his, squeezing gently until your smile returns. “This is so thoughtful of you, angel. Really, thanks so much. I’m going to use it every night.” 

You grin hugely, all but glowing at his praise, and when you turn back to your bag, and Sirius is almost surprised there’s still one left for him. As if sitting here, basking in the happiness of all the people he cares about most, isn't enough of a gift. 

Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious what it is. 

You pass him a small pouch, and you’ve made it purple with a black star in the middle. Sirius loves it without knowing what it’s for. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it has a utility, he wants to frame it on his wall. 

“I know you drop your earbuds a lot,” you say, “so I thought maybe you could put them in here sometimes, to protect them. I put little loops on it in case you want to carry it or attach it to something, but you could just keep it in your pocket, if you want.” 

Sirius takes his earbuds out from his pocket, slipping them into the little case, and they fit perfectly inside. He grins at you, and when you smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling, his restraint snaps. He lunges for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and cradling your head with the other hand. His heart aches, and it's as much for the thoughtfulness and care you put into his own gift as it is for the joy you’ve given to Remus and James. He doesn’t think his heart can handle carrying around this much love. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair, and your arms come around his middle, squeezing tight. 

He takes his time in releasing you, but when he does you’re immediately captured by James, who kisses the side of your face haphazardly. Remus has gone mute beside him, but Sirius suspects both boys are feeling overcome by the same desperation to express their appreciation as he is. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get close. 

“Fucking one-month anniversary,” he says, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. “I hope you’ve kept the night free, gorgeous, because now you have to let us take you out to dinner.”

[messers-moony]

So Perfect | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 

The bookstore was quiet most days. It was a tiny little two-story shop in London. The idea was it had a book for everyone. On the second story was a living quarter for the two siblings that worked at the shop. It was a small two-bedroom apartment, but it did what it was needed to do. 

Remus and Y/n Lupin were the owners of the shop. It was their eighteenth birthday gift from their parents. Growing up, their parents didn’t have much, so for them, it means a lot. The name of the shop was something simple - Lupin’s Library - but inside held memories that they would cherish forever. 

When they started the business, it was slow. Most days, no one would enter, and Y/n worked a separate job to help Remus pay the bills. But after a year it seemed that people preferred the shop over any other place in London. They enjoy the warmness of Remus’ smile and the radiant happiness from Y/n. 

Remus worked behind the counter at the register, and when there wasn’t a customer, he was reading on the stool he sat on. Y/n did inventory and stocked books. She didn’t like to sit still, preferring to be on her feet moving around. Sometimes early in the morning, she’d grab donuts to leave on the front counter for early customers. 

There was nothing like Lupin’s Library, and that’s why people loved it. 

The bell-ringing announced a new customer into the shop. It was a tiny ding, nothing majorly loud. Y/n was stocking books while Remus was sleeping upstairs in his room. Over the past winter, he had caught a nasty cold leaving Y/n to take over the bookstore until he got better while also trying to take care of him. 

“One moment, and I’ll be with you!” Y/n called as she slipped the last book into place. 

She skipped to make it behind the counter where she met a man about her age - twenty-five. He was taller than her, maybe just around six feet. His hair was messy and curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, and he radiated a certain playfulness Y/n could get used to. 

“Mornin’ sir!” James was taken away by her light and fluffy accent, “What can I do for you today?”

He smiled, “Looking for something to read for my son.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s about to turn five.” James smiled proudly. 

“That’s adorable!” Y/n gushed, “Any way we have magic treehouse books, maybe he’d like those?” 

“Maybe, he’s been begging for new books.” James ran a hand through his hair, “It’s the only way I can get him to calm down.”

Y/n smiled, “You know, on Saturdays, I read to kids. If you want him to join us, he’s more than welcome. Saturdays, I read to kids five to nine. Sundays, I read to kids from ten to fifteen.”

“Wow,” James replied, “I’d love to take him in if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” She smiled, “Everyone’s welcome.”

James gave a grin in response as he searched the Library for these Magic Treehouse books. It took him five minutes before even finding the kids section, but when he did, James grabbed the set of them. He placed each book on top of another and brought them to the counter of the pretty girl. 

He watched at how gently and smoothly she moved the books to scan them. James was so focused he didn’t even notice her handing him the books and the receipt, “But I didn’t-“

“It’s on the house.” Y/n replied, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

James’ face flushed; he hadn’t felt this way since Lily, “I’ll- um- see you Saturday….”

He walked out of the shop with a happy smile placed on his face. James hadn’t felt flustered and nervous around a girl since Lily in seventh grade. He had been head over heels for her since then. They began dating in sophomore year and had Harry right out of high school. It was poor planning on their part, but Harry was everything James had dreamed of. It wasn’t until Harry’s second birthday when Lily said she couldn’t take it anymore. 

Not only had it broken James’ heart, but it broke Harry’s too. Harry had no idea where his momma had gone. What broke James’ heart the most was Lily saying she wanted absolutely nothing to do with either of them. Lily had placed the engagement ring on the wooden table, collected her things, and left, just like that. 

Then it was just them against the world. James and his little mini-me, as Sirius would say. Sirius was the one who recommended the bookshop. He wouldn’t shut up about how cute the boy behind the register was (“Oh James, his hair looks so fluffy!”). It was like hearing a broken record. James didn’t see the boy with fluffy hair, but he did see the girl with the radiant smile. 

That night James sat beside Harry in his twin bed. Harry was thrilled to see the new books on his shelf, and as James began reading, Harry became more hooked with each page. When James shut the book, Harry was devastated. He wanted to know more and finish the book! Alas, he had to go to sleep, and if he did, James promised him that they’d finish the book tomorrow. 

When James brought up going to Lupin’s Library on Saturdays, Harry was ecstatic! He couldn’t wait to meet the new kids and begin a new book. By the time Saturday rolled around, they had finished two of the Magic Treehouse books. James entered the shop with Harry in front of him, hands on the little boy's shoulders. Now at the counter, he saw the boy with fluffy hair. 

“Good afternoon, sir.” He greeted in the same soft accent, “Here for the kids reading circle?”

Harry nodded, and the boy chuckled, “Great. It’s just in that back corner.”

James thanked him before bringing Harry to the back corner, where kids were already sat on a rug. Blankets were spread among some of them, and the girl was sitting on a chair in the corner while the kids made a semi-circle around her. James beckoned Harry to sit, and James smiled at the girl in the chair. 

As the reading began, James decided to venture through the bookstore. The bookshelves were surprisingly clean and rid of any dust. The books were taken care of, not a crease or bent page unless he went into the used section. Some people preferred new books; some preferred used. There truly was a book for everyone in here. 

He made his way back to the front desk with some books he had gained from the shelves. A multitude of paperbacks and gently placed them on the counter. Remus put a bookmark in his book and began to scan each book just as smoothly as the girl. His hands didn’t seem as soft. They looked calloused and scarred. Sirius’ type, all the way. 

“You wouldn’t happen to see a boy with straight black hair in here sometimes?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Wears ripped jeans and a leather jacket?”

Remus smiled, “Yes, we get him in here quite frequently.”

“Do you mind if I got your number for him?” James questioned, “He’s talked the world of you and your bookstore.”

“It’s not just my bookstore.” Remus correctly playfully, “My sister works it with me, who I see you’ve been well acquainted with.”

James’ face flushed pink, “I didn’t- I don’t-“

“It’s fine.” Remus replied, handing him the books and the receipt, “She’s a big girl. I trust her to make her own decisions.”

“I didn’t pay for these.”

“You can thank my sister.” Remus winked as he sat on the stool and began reading. 

James grunted at not paying again. He rummaged through his wallet and placed forty pounds in the tip jar. Remus chuckled and shook his head at the gesture, appreciative nonetheless of the man's kindness. Another thirty minutes went by, and Harry was running back into his dad's arms. 

“That was awesome!” Harry exclaimed softly, “She was so nice! She gave us lollipops!”

“Did she?” James asked, and Harry nodded. 

Y/n smiled softly as she joined Remus behind the counter, grabbing some books to stamp while all the kids filed out to find their parents, “Looks like we’ll be back next Saturday.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Y/n replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”

Harry smiled, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

James and Harry walked out of Lupin’s Library together with smiles on their faces. Harry wouldn’t stop jumping with joy the entire day. He couldn’t get over how lovely the lady was and how she gave him a lollipop. Truthfully, it was the little things when it came to kids. Remus chuckled as they left the library together. 

“He quite likes you, I’d say.”

“Little kids like anyone who give them candy.”

“I don’t mean the boy.” Remus replied, “I mean the adult who seems quite fond of you.”

Y/n hmphed, “And what about the man who wears the leather jacket and the straight black hair?”

Remus blushed, “‘Oh, Y/n, he’s so perfect.’” Y/n mocked.

“You’re annoying.” Remus nudged her with his elbow. 

“Love you too.” 

It wasn’t until Wednesday when he came back in again. Y/n had been absent from the shop due to having to help her friend bartend. Despite working at the bookshop full time, she still had a part-time job bartending. If she spent the whole day at the bar, then she spent the entire night at the bookstore. Working two jobs was no easy feat, but she did it. 

James walked in and wandered aimlessly after not seeing or hearing her. Remus smiled amusedly as he walked in and continued to read his book. James felt the spines of the books but never plucked one from the shelf. Remus got tired of his lost puppy look and finally called to him. 

“She’s not here, you know.”

“Oh,” James muttered, “Where- Where is she?”

Remus placed his book down after bending the corner of the page, “Helping a friend.”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” James replied nervously as he went to walk out the door. 

“Wait!” Remus called, and James turned, “I can- um- I can give you her schedule if you want.”

“Schedule?” James questioned, “She doesn’t work here full time?”

Remus shook his head, “No, she works part-time at a bar around the block. It helps-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “It helps pay the bills.”

“You guys don’t make enough to stay in business?” 

“No, we don’t.” Remus murmured, “I can't really do much else other than work here, so Y/n took up another job. Which she hates, and it drains her.” 

James was appalled. These people were so nice and kind. How weren’t they making enough to stay in business? Remus looked utterly embarrassed by the whole thing, confessing to a customer that they were struggling. James, himself, was a Nephrologists at a hospital not too far away. His family was small, and he made a lot of money. 

Without another word, James left the shop leaving Remus in a confused state. He walked to an ATM that was only a couple of blocks away before pulling out a decent amount of cash. James walked back into the bookstore and placed an envelope on the counter. Remus stared at it confused as he got on his own two feet to open it. As he peeled back the seal, he saw what was inside. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t-“

“Please.” James begged, “Harry would be devastated if his favorite place went out of business.”

Remus had tears in his eyes as he placed the money beneath the counter, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Our parents bought this shop with almost nothing, and we’ve been trying, but it’s so hard.”

“Well,” James began, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if this place was gone, especially after knowing you’re guys’ kindness.”

Remus smiled and grabbed a piece of paper with a calendar on it. At the bottom, he wrote his and Y/n’s names along with their phone numbers. His handwriting was tidy and curvy. Remus handed the piece of paper to him, and James took it gratefully. 

“It’s Y/n’s schedule along with her part-time bartending job. Our numbers are at the bottom.” Remus motioned to the calendar and at the numbers on the bottom. 

“Thank you, Remus.” James smiled as he pulled out a business card from his wallet, “Obviously, you don’t need me to be your doctor, but my number is on the card if either of you needs anything.”

Remus took the two cards gently, “Thank you, James. We really won’t forget this.”

“I’m glad.” James smiled, “Because I won’t forget you two.”

He left the bookstore with a skip in his step. It felt good to do that. James hadn’t felt this happy since Harry was born, but now he felt like himself again. He felt like that energized boy from middle school who was always destined to be great. 

James didn’t know what it was like to be poor. He grew up with his parents being doctors. They made decent money, and James always got what he wanted. They lived with the higher class. It made his heart ache that Remus and Y/n, who were so sweet we’re struggling. He couldn’t take it. He had to do something. It felt good to do that something. 

Around the block was a bar called Whiskey Woes. It was old and rugged-looking. The black stone bricks seemed to be cracking in every spot. It made James grimace. Walking inside was even worse. The pungent smell of older men with no taste for cologne made him scrunch his nose. But behind the counter, he saw an exhausted girl who was giving it her all to get tips. 

James made his way to sit on a barstool, and sluggishly Y/n made her way to him, “Good afternoon, sir! What can I getcha today?”

“A glass of water?” James replied, lifting his head, and Y/n let out a visible sigh of relief, “‘Course.”

A minute of running around the bar later, a glass of water was placed in front of him, “How’s work, Y/n?”

“How’d you find out my name?”

“Well, your name tag says it.” James pointed, “And I went by the bookstore today.”

Y/n hummed, “Remus tell you where I work, huh?”

“Yeah.” James replied, stirring his water with his straw, “And I want you to quit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to quit working at this shithole.” James repeated, “And take this.”

Another envelope was passed to her across the bar. Y/n eyed him as she broke the glued seal on the white paper. Inside she saw cash, and it didn’t look like just a tiny amount either. Y/n’s face showed visible shock, and James smiled sheepishly. 

“Consider it a tip.”

“This is more than a tip.” Y/n chuckled, “This is like three of my yearly salaries.”

James’ smile faltered just a tiny bit, “You don’t belong here. You belong at the bookstore with Remus. You don’t seem happy here, and Remus sees it too. Says you come home exhausted and drained.”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 

“Maybe go on a date with me?” 

Y/n blushed, “A date?”

“Yeah, a date.” James muttered. 

“I think you deserve a lot more than a date.” Y/n replied, and James smirked, “Only if you’ll let me.”

She laughed, and it made his stomach flutter. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. It made his heart flip and the corners of his lips quirk. The way she tilted her head back and how her hair flowed as she did so—the crinkle of her nose and the creases of her eyes as she shut them tightly. 

She was so perfect. 

[yamithediaperdork]

Billy's Birthday Bash part 1 (DC)

Billy yawned and sat up in bed, reaching over and turning off his alarm clock which was blabbering away about how the justice league had saved the day last night, again. from alien attackers, Again.

"Like I don't know that." Billy muttered, swinging his blanket off and twisting in his bed so his bare feet could hit the floor. "I was only there."

Billy Batson after all was the secret identity of the world's mightiest mortal Shazam, gifted with gifts from seven gods and one of the league's heavy hitters.

Just thinking about that brought a smile to the 13 year old hero's face and he turned to pose in in the mirror in his bedroom, and then his face fell as he saw his reflection.

while once he said his magic word he was a 6'9 muscled beefcake, the image looking back him with it's scrawny arms and chest which were covered with a faded flash themed PJ top while around his hips was a semi bulky and again flash themed overnight diaper, that was drooping from being used many times (Thankfully only wettings though, something he confirmed with a quick pat to his padded rear and a sniff of the air) despite Billy having only made it to bed at around 3 am.

He hadn't of been worried about getting in trouble for being out so late though.

the once orphan had been happily adopted and taken in by one Barry Allen and got alone great with his new dad and tried to be pleasant around Miss west, Barry's girlfriend who came over often enough to have her own key.

It wasn't that she was unpleasant or anything, it was just with Billy's 'problems' acting up bad enough that he needed his diapers basically 24/7, she insisted on diaper checks, even in front of her nephew Wally who'd come over sometimes with her and was like the coolest guy ever!

The reason why he hadn't of been worried about Barry finding out though was because Barry was also a member of the Justice league, ironically the Flash who's symbol had been on the front of the bulky diaper at one point.

"You'd think he'd be mad these things even exist since till Bat's set up that account for us there was no way to collect royalties." Billy grumbled to himself.

But when asked Barry admitted if he could help kids like Billy who had potty issues feel big and brave like superhero's, He was fine with the diapers being made and mostly didn't touch his share of the royalties.

though as Billy's legal guardian Shazam couldn't touch his share either without permission and was irked that Barry would use some of Billy's money to stock up on his diapers.

"I'm teaching you to be reasponable. if you have to pay for the diapers you'll be less likely to rip them up like that first pack Iris got you." Barry had reminded Billy, with a smirk on his face but a slight stern tone.

"I said sorry..besides they had stupid ponies and stuff on them." Billy had whined back.

still he fell in line and even if he had wanted to just blast the diapers with his lighting some times and suck up the wasted cost, with his new day's symbol on it he just couldn't do it.

Since he was only wet Billy was allowed to change himself, there had been the great carpet incident a few days after he'd moved in trying to change a dirty diaper on his own and Barry had made him pinky swear to ask for help with those.

since Billy was on the family plan and had his own cell phone he could just discretely call Barry when he was smelly, though thankfully his daytime accidents were few and fair in between.

Snapping the tapes off Billy had a minor moment sulkiness again since his budding pubic hair had been shaved clean because of his diapers, though he had to admit Barry had been right, he was getting a LOT less rashes.

balling the soggy diaper up and holding it out with one hand, Billy took a deep breath and pinched his nose with the other one as he stepped on the foot petal for his diaper pail and dropped it in, not wishing to smell memories of diaper past.

with that done he walked around enjoying the lack of a waddle in his step for the precious few moments he would and tugged opened his version of a underwear drawer, stocked full of daytime and overnight flash brand diapers.

"Gee, what's a boy to wear, flash themed disposable undies or flash themed disposable undies?" He asked, tapping a finger on his chin and smirking a little."the struggle is real for 13 year old pants wetter."

"heh, Oh really?" Came a voice from the doorway and Billy yelped and tugged to tug his shirt down, even though he knew Barry had seen everything.

"B-Barry knock!" He huffed, and blushed, hands over over his crotch now.

"I did, someone was off in his own little world.. in fact so off he forgot what today is." Barry said and smirked, pointing over to a Shazam themed calendar on the wall, with the dates date circled in red."Your not 13 anymore silly. Happy birthday~"

Billy, who normally was ignored on his birthday either by choice or lost in the shuffle while in foster care really had forgotten and now grinned big time.

"That's right! I get a real party, with cake, and ice cream an-" Billy was saying and was cut off as Barry zipped over, a little bit slower in his blue jeans and denim shirt but not by much and was ruffling Billy's hair.

"And you get a birthday spanking." Barry teased, but winked to let Billy know he was joking.

"Try it and I'll saw you know what." Billy giggled and blew a raspberry.

"Hmmm flash vs. Shazam in a spanking fight. we could sell out areas. But At last, your butt's just too cute to mare." Barry chuckled and gave the boys chubby cheeks a soft pat before zipping back to the door frame.

the pat while gentle, was unexpected and Billy yelped and a little trickle of pee came out, something Barry missed but the now hard wood floor of Billy's room could handle it.

"Finish getting dressed buddy and I'll get this cleaned up in-"

"Don't say it!" Billy groaned rolled his eyes.

"A flash!" Barry said, zipping off as Billy snatched a pair of daytime diapers out.

'He's so corny sometimes.' Billy thought.

Dressed in a red t-shirt and a baggy pair of black shorts that did a good job of hiding the bulk of his padding (there there was a tell tale crinkle for those listening for it) he made his way to the dinning room and grinned ear to ear as the table was loaded with chocolate pancakes, blue berry waffles, fried eggs, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and a pitcher of chocolate milk and a pitcher of orange juice.

with how fast Barry's metabolism was he was always making big meals and was part of the reason Billy had put on some much needed wait, but even so, this was above and beyond.

with drool trailing down his chin he grabbed a plate and looked over the feast, almost at a lost of where to begin.

"heh, Did daddy do good or did daddy do good?" Barry asked, zipping into the room.

"This. Is. Awesome!" Billy squealed. "Was this all you or did Iris help too?" Billy asked.

"She's out of town on a assignment for a news papers, she's sorry she's gonna miss the party." Barry said, looking sorry.

"Well it's ok." Billy said, starting to load up his plate, a impish grin coming across his face. "we can just have anther party with more cake when she gets back. It'll be hard having all that sugar and getting double presents, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make." he said, topping off his plate and plopping his butt onto his special chair.

with his bulky diapers and the fact he leaked sometimes, Barry had gotten him a dinner chair with sides coming up to the middle of his tummy so Billy wouldn't lose balance and fall off, and it had a plastic cover for a easier clean up instead of the stained oak that the rest of the chairs had.

Naturally Billy had been least then pleased at the fact he had a toddler chair but after falling off of the other chairs three times he'd finally bit the bullet.

"Oh, your willing to have two party's huh? truly, your a saint among men. We'll see what happens." Barry said, coming over and getting his own plate while taking a second to mentally gush at just how adorable Billy looked, his legs kicking under the table as he scooped food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a month. "Heh, wow, and I thought I was fast..slow down before you choke buddy."

Billy as normal, took that warning as a challenge and sped up.

After 4 helpings Billy just sat back in his chair, burping softly and groaning as he put a hand to his belly, not even offering a fight as Barry came over with a cloth to wipe his face and hands.

"Did somebody maybe eat more then he should of?" Barry asked sweetly, as he helped the groaning boy out of the chair, and after a second picked him up, setting him on his hip and patting his back.

Billy's reply was a loud blench and Barry winced, glad he'd had the foresight to get Billy's head over his shoulder.

"well put. any follow ups?" Barry chuckled, and kept patting, this wasn't Billy's first semi food coma and he doubted it would be the little thunder champions last.

Billy went to open his mouth to say something then a loud booming fart blasted out of his bottom and for a split second Barry wondered if his arm would of been burnt if not for the padding.

"I-I didn't..I.." Billy whimpered and buried his head into Barry's shoulder and Barry could feel the heat from the boys face.

"Hey..hey..it's ok. fart's happen. besides you've gone uh-oh in my lap so this is hardly worse." Barry said, tilting his head and giving the poor blushing little guy a smooch on the head.

"N-Not helping!" Billy whined.

"Ok ok, I'll drop it.. here let's get you sat down and watching some carto-" Barry started to say but anther thunder poot from the champion of lighting cut him off.

"gawd! that stinks!" Billy whined.

"...Or Maybe you wanna go and sit on the potty." Barry said trying to be nice, but the boy wasn't wrong.

"I know when I have to go poop Barry!" Billy huffed and two more loud farts came out and the boy switched from huffy to shocked. "..and that would be right now. Potty daddy!"

Any other daddy wouldn't of stood a chance in the world, But Barry Allen didn't call him the fastest man alive for nothing, but even then it was a close call as he barley got Billy's shorts and diaper down and got him on the toilet before the boy started to unleash hell.

Knowing how Billy valued some privacy, Barry left almost as quick as he'd gotten him in there, though not before bringing a few room freshers into the bathroom and opening a window.

'don't want him to pass out form his own stink.. man..I wonder if there's anther god powering.. skunkculues, champion of stink.' Barry mused as he waited outside the bathroom door just in case he was needed.

Billy groaned as he hunched over and pounded a fist on the sink's counter, wondering if maybe he had a natural power over lava because that's what this felt like as he made use of the potty.

His own stink was assaulting his nose though thankfully daddy had set it up so it would be as bad, though he still ended up having to flush a couple of times just to help with the smell.

Sweating, Panting and feeling drained, he barley had it in him to wipe himself when it was all said and done, and swore he'd never cram that much food into his tummy again all at once.

(of course since he swore that once every three or so days the oath may of fallen on deaf ear.)

which his cheeks wiped, Billy went to stand up on shaky legs and plopped back down, then noticed the shart stains in the back of the diaper and signed.

"Dadddd..IUh...I need help." he called out. huffing and slumping, elbows on his knees and waiting.

when the door opened up and his cousin/cool bro via adoption opened the door Billy yelped and in vain tried to cover up the diaper around his ankles.

4 minutes earlier...

Wally who had retired from the superhero game while going to collage and trying to be a CSI like Barry, had surprised Barry by showing up for the party.

"Wally! good to see you!" Barry had said, shaking the younger mans hand, but then, ever the good daddy/uncle had narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you suppose to be in class right now?"

"The professor for the only class I had today had a family emergency, so the class was called off, and I was gonna try and make it anyways." Wally said, keeping his voice down and Barry picked up on it and kept his down as well.

"Ah, a birthday surprise for Billy." Barry said and smirked. "you know he thinks the world of you right?"

"I might of picked up on that. hence why I pretend not to notice his little problem." Wally chuckled and ran a hand though his orange hair. "you'd think he would of linked how Aunt Iris doesn't do bum checks when I'm around with it buttt.."

"Heh, Well he see's what he wants to see. He's on the potty right now though so maybe if you hi-" Barry started to say when his com beeped.

it wasn't his JL com, but the one he'd given the Meta human crimes department for central and Keystone city, being the hero of the twin cities.

dashing over he answered it, and frowned, then dashed back to Wally but even as he did he was in costume.

"I hate to do this, but Weather wizard and Captain cold are causing heck in Keystone. could you stay with Billy? he might need a little help." Barry said and gestured his head to the bathroom.

"Of course. Listen, if you need any back up.. I might not have my costume, but after Billy gets out.."

"Hey, I'll handle it. I'll be back.."

"in a flash. I know I know." Wally groaned, having the same opinion as Billy about the phase.

Barry just smirked like it was the worlds greatest dad joke and took off.

"W-Wally!? Get out! I-" Billy was whining and had actual tears welling up in his eyes, making Wally just wanna hug him.

"Billy, Billy listen to me, Barry had to go and fight the rouges, I came here for your party..and I've know about your diapers since Barry adopted you." Wally said, cutting right to the chase.

"..No you haven't! I was super careful and someone as cool and awesome as you wouldn't wanna hang out with a diaper wetting baby!" Billy whined, in denial even as Wally sighed and shook his head.

"Really Billy? I'm training to be a CSI, so I'm learning to notice little things, I move at super speed, not as fast as Barry but still, and you crinkle lots." Wally listed off on his hand, raising fingers, then giving Billy a hurt look. "Also, you think SO little of me I wouldn't wanna hang out with a awesome and cool little guy like you just because you have accidents?"

"But..I.." Billy whimpered and sniffled, and went to wipe at his tears with his arm but Wally was there, with a wad of tissue.

"Hey, it's ok Billy. Truth be told, I wet the bed for 3 years after getting my powers. But My Parents weren't as nice and Uncle Barry and aunt Iris. they were the ones who looked after me like they're looking after you now. so no more tears alright? let's get you dressed and then we can play some video games." Wally said, and ruffled the boys hair.

Billy gave him a smile and then hugged Wally's waist, and the 19 year old almost melted and patting his head.

Tossing the dirty diaper, Wally got Billy in a clean over night diaper, and added powder, though Billy whined a little he was pacified by Wally saying he thought those looked cooler.

Going off of that logic Billy when offered a pair of baggy pants to go over the thicker diaper went all shy.

"uh. well..I mean.. if you wanna see this diaper because it's cuter.. and we're not going out anywhere.." Billy said, squirming and shifting all around.

"..I do think it's cuter, and Barry said he'd call if he needed us. Uh.. " wally trailed off and then blushed himself, and put a hand behind his head. "I have ONE question that's been bugging me."

"heh, what is it?" Billy said, holding up his arms for the older boy to pick him up.

"when you change.. do you have to take the diapers off first or..how does that work?!" Wally asked, picking him up and gushing as Billy cuddled in.

"heh, Nah, the big guy isn't padded, and as to how that works.." Billy paused and let wally hold his weight as he spread his hands, wiggling his fingers.

"Maggggggic~"

Wally snorted and smirked.

"your such a dork sometimes you know that?" he asked playfully, carrying Billy at normal speed down the stairs.

"Pffft please, I've seen you marking out over dad's cases when going over them with him, and not his stuff as flash, but as Barry Allen,CSI."Billy teased back.

Wally huffed and blushed himself and then smirked.

"You're lucky your cute or I'd super speed your butt to central park right now."

"heh, you wouldn't do that, A) because I'd say the word and leave, B) because Dad would kick you butt and C).." Billy said and tapped Wally's chest as he listed off his points. "You'd made me cry and hate yourself for it~"

"..Dang, guilty as charged."

Getting into the living room, Wally sat Billy on the couch and then went to look though the selection of games they had for two player.

"Super monkey fury 5 good for you?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Um..whatever YOU think is a cool game!" Billy said, and gave a big grin.

he might of been 14 but in his diaper and t-shirt, and all eager to please his 'big bro' figure, he looked like a toddler.

"Heh, it's YOUR special day Billy, whatever YOU wanna play we'll play it." wally chuckled.

"W-Wellll.. Dad doesn't let me play Duty calls a lot because it's so violent.." Billy said, poking two fingers together.

"..I think Barry will understand." Wally smirked and put the game in, coming over with controllers for both of them.

As Wally sat down he was surprised as Billy moved from his spot next to him to sitting in his lap.

"heh,What are y-"

"it's MY Special day right?" Billy asked, flashing his imp smirk. "So I can sit anywhere I want.. rightttt?"

"heh. of course."

Barry hated how long it took him to deal with the rouges, they had gotten reinforcements from mirror master so it took longer then he would of liked to finish up, plus then he had to deal with the police over and handle the press, all part of keeping up the hero image and while any other day it wouldn't of irk'ed him, knowing he was missing out on Billy's big day, he was short tempered

he had almost snapped at Detective Morro, a long time friend on the force in both identities but caught himself.

"you ok Flash?" his friend asked.

"I..I'm missing out on my kid's birthday party for this." Barry admitted.

"heh, didn't know you HAD a kid. go on, get." the heavy set cigar chomping hard ass said. "We'll try to manage without you for the rest of the day...Oh, tell yer kid happy birthday."

"heh, Will do!" Barry said and after a trademark flash salute, was off and running.

Getting back to the house Barry found Billy in Wally lap and whining a little, sucking his thumb and a kiddy cartoon was on the TV, much younger then Billy usually liked to watch.

"Hey guys, I'm back, whats going on?" Barry asked.

"Oh well see, I was a jerk and tried to make Billy play a game I like an-" Wally started to speak up but a whimpering Billy cut him off.

"Noo! it was me! I made Wally play duty call's with me and it was way more awful then I thought and I know I've done worse as you know who but but..I dunno and I started to cry and and-" Billy whined and whimpered.

"..Billy when your Shazam you have the wisdom of Solomon that let's you work out why you have to do the things you do. not so much as yourself. that's why I didn't want you playing that, you're not in trouble, either of you but I think we're gonna keep it to cartoons or silly games for the day." Barry said, coming over and as Wally hugged the whining Billy in his lap, Barry did too and Billy sniffled and smiled.

"Kay"

with Billy calmed down, they sat down for a few episodes of different baby shows, with billy giggling and clapping alone even if Wally and Barry were bored out of their skulls. trying to break it up they pulled out a few board games but after having to watch Billy do his 'i won you lost' diaper booty shake 4 times in a row (which admittedly was pretty cute with his diaper butt on display) they switched from candy land to clue, where Wally won 2 out of the 4 games.

Barry technically could of won the other two but played bad on purpose for the last game where billy was getting all huffy.

After that they played pay day and once again were subjected to Billy's singing about how awesome he was and how much they sucked, while wiggling his padded rear in their faces but compared to the sulky silence that losing brought, Barry and wally put up with it.

Or at least they tried to till in the middle of shaking his butt in both their faces Billy froze and then let out a muffled poot.

"Really Billy?" Barry asked, waving his left hand at super speed to blow the smell away.

"I-I didn't mean to.d-do that! I'm Sorry!" Billy squeaked and turned around, blushing and starting to tear up. "P-Please don't ha-"

Before Billy could finish his thought, Wally and Barry were on either side of Billy, hugging him.

"Hey, hey, It's alright, Fart's happen." Wally was saying, rubbing and patting Billy's back.

"And I'm 90 percent sure you wouldn't fart on me after winning a game. Now if you lost.." Barry said and winked, patting billy's bum.

"D-Daddy!"

"Hmmm, Feels like it was just a fart, do you wanna sit on the potty just to be sure buddy?" Barry asked.

"Daddy, I know when I have to po-" Billy started and let out a long fart, one eye half closing and a leg coming up. the fart went from a normal sounding if massive one to wet and muddy, then Billy's leg came down and he was popping a squat.

Of course either Wally or Barry could of gotten him to the bathroom, but honestly, they had both agreed wordlessly to just let him fill his diapers.

"D-Daddy I'm Pooping!" Billy whined, as if Wally or Billy couldn't of told, and they just hugged him tighter and went double time with the bum and back pats as he whimpered and put his face in either shoulder, bearing down and finishing up even as whimpers of 'stinky' came out of his mouth.

As the diaper drooped in the back and Billy finished up, he sniffled a few times then pulled back.

"D-Daddy..Wally..Diapie change?" He asked in a voice that made him sound like a toddler.

"Of course buddy. I'll have you clean i-" Barry started to say but Wally moved his hand over and closed Barry's lips.

"I'll change him it means I don't have to hear that pun again." Wally said and winked to Billy even as Barry's eyes went wide from shock then a little glare.

Billy meanwhile was giggling like crazy and hands coming up his mouth to try and hide it.

Barry got Wally's fingers off his lips and smirked.

"oh, you think that's funny little man?" Barry asked, looking to wally and giving a evil smirk.

"I mean.. Kinda.. sowwy.." Billy said.

"Oh come on Barry, it WAS funny." Wally said and smirked.

"..Not as funny as this is gonna be." Barry said and Wally saw what was going to happen but could never beat Barry's speed, so was too slow to stop what happened next.

His hand moving at a blur, Barry smushed and squished the mess in the diaper around, making sure the boom boom went EVERY where as Billy's mouth formed a O and Wally groaned.

Zipping up to his feet Barry smirked.

"Have fun cleaning that up.. Oh and you can't use speed speed for cleaning up a poopie diaper, it'll hurt billy's bum." Barry said and went off to go and start working on lunch.

"wait what?!"Wally yelped.

"I..Poopie all over..I.." Billy was mumbling, looking out of it, and swaying back and forth on his feet, too out of it for Wally to ask if that was really a thing.

"DICK MOVE BARRY!" Wally yelled, then cradled Billy, the smell was even worst now and Wally gulped, wondering if he was strong enough to do this.

Billy mewed softly and wrapped his arms around Wally's neck and nuzzled his head into Wally's chest.

"I Sowwy. I stinky." Billy mewed, eyes semi glazed over.

Looking at how much Billy needed him, Wally found the will power needed and dashed billy off to the bathroom, though he did a slight detour to get a clothespin for his nose.

'maybe it won't be as bad as I think.' Wally thought, getting Billy on his back on a towel in the bathroom, sliding the little guys thumb into his mouth and gushing at how cute he looked.

opening the diaper, Wally realized it wasn't as bad as he thought.

it was worse, much much much.

Wally wasn't a stranger to changing diapers, as big of a family as he had and baby sitting jobs but this was the record for longest and grossest he'd ever handled.

going though a whole freshly opened box of wipes, he got it done, going at normal speed and taking time to comfort billy and talk softly to him.

it took the better part of 15 minutes, and then just to be safe Wally gave Billy a quick bath, semi worried as Billy had apparently slipped into a baby mode of sorts and was playing with some rubber duckies while Wally washed him, at one point offering one of the duckies he had been chewing on to wally.

"Uh..No thanks. you keep chewing." Wally said with a sweat drop.

Billy just giggled and nodded, noming on his ducky and letting wally wash him, only fussing when his hair was being washed, though thankfully Barry had gotten no more tears shampoo.

with Billy washed up all nice and clean, Wally got him dried off with a big fluffy towel and was walking him back toward his room to get him dressed when Barry cut him off, holding one of the presents under one arm.

"Thought I heard the tub running.Lunch is ready downstairs, I'll get the birthday boy dressed. go get something to eat." Barry said.

"Heh, Sure, now that I've handed all the smelly stuff you wanna tag in." Wally teased, and Billy giggled.

"What can I say, Perks of being a daddy and honorary uncle." Barry said.

Wally just shook his head and headed down the step while Billy toddled along side Barry, wrapped up in the towel and then just laid back his bed, willing to let Barry do all the work.

"heh, your being pretty cute kiddo. maybe you should poop your pants more often." Barry teased, tickling billy's tummy and getting a fit of giggles out of him.

Deciding with how little Billy was acting and the bigger accidents he was have, Barry got billy into a daytime diaper but cut slit in the front of back of it first, while Billy watched with a confused look and a finger on his bottom lip.

"Ummm daddy, what cha doing? I'm leak all over now." Billy pointed out.

"Well, if that was your only diapie you would, but daddy figures since we're not going out and you're having lots of accident's.." Barry said and pulled out the bulky bed time diaper.

"Sheesh, I'll be waddling like a toddler with both of these on!" Billy said and stuck out his tongue.

"I know! I don't know why i didn't think of this sooner!" Barry gushed and got a raspberry from billy.

with the bulky diaper taped up over the thinner one, Barry helped billy stand up and gushed and coo'ed at how Billy's legs were forced apart.

"Sheesh, One more and I think I'd be stuck crawling!" Billy said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't temp me." Barry said then handed Billy the present. "Here, open this up, it's from Iris and I thought it might be useful right now."

Warning bell's were going off in Billy's head as he took the present and he had to suppress a groan, it was a flash themed diaper shirt.

"Well what do you think? Iris noticed that your diaper sag a lot when you got pants-less and this will help! Heck, might even get you a few of theses if it works out. but for now,you can be the fastest pamper butt alive!" Barry asked.

"..I think I'll save it special occasions." Billy tried and Barry just laughed.

"Silly boy, this is your birthday, that IS special, here, I'll help you get it on." Barry said taking the diaper shirt from Billy and dashing around the boy. in seconds he was snugly fit in the diaper shirt.

Despite how humiliating it was to need the shirt for his saggy diapers, Billy had to admit it felt right, even if his bulky diapers semi showed.

"Soooo?" Barry asked.

"..I could get used to it. " he said and started to head for the door, realizing just HOW bad his waddling was now as Barry squealed behind him. "..I'll calling it in. carry me."

Billy sighed then giggled, holding his arms out.

"Well if I HAVE to." Barry laughed, coming over and picking up Billy and heading for the dinner table.

So far the day had been fun and cute, and it was only gonna get better.

[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 1 part 1

I’m not quite sure how to begin.

I’m not typically one for journaling but it would appear to be part of the gig, as it were. I found this book—the one I’m writing in, heavy and musty and leather-bound—sitting on the table when I arrived, open to a blank page. There are at least a thousand pages filled before it, and no matter how many blank pages I flip past this one I can’t reach the back cover without closing the book entirely.

Mòrag told me things that present themselves for investigation here tend to be worth exploring, and if my gut tells me what’s right not to stray from its guidance. But I’m getting ahead of myself—you don’t even know who I am.

My name is Fionn Gill, and I’m a witch. I know, I know, but I don’t get into all that “warlock” “wizard” shit. It’s just a way to separate and belittle the same practice based solely on the gender of the practitioner, in my opinion. My specialty lies in potion-making, though I’m not very experienced. I’ve really only just finished my training—I’m from Huntsmanland and they’re not nearly as magically-inclined there as they are in High Rannoc. This is the first part of the country I’ve visited other than my tutor’s homestead and I must say, it hasn’t made the most stellar impression.

My tutor Edith received a letter stating that services would be required in the town of Greenmoor, and since the letter didn’t specify her services, she sent me to take care of it. I don’t know if she expected it to be an indefinite position, but here we are.

I didn��t bring a lot with me—just enough for the journey. It was about all I could carry walking. I arrived in Greenmoor with just about the clothes on my back, hoping they had an apothecary of their own so I could get this over with.

I’ve never really been one for small towns, and nor do they have much love for me. I’ve always thought I was meant for adventure—movement, action, peril, all of it. Small town life just feels so… stagnant. Nothing changes, no one grows or changes or has anything interesting to talk about. It’s enough to drive you mad.

Not to mention the natural suspicion of outsiders. I could see it on Mòrag McKinney’s face, even as she greeted me at the edge of town in her official capacity as mayor. Her hair was done up in a huge bun of thick braids on top of her head—a hairstyle with a formality at odds with her armored clothing.

She seemed surprised when I told her I was the witch. That’s not uncommon—like most intellectual and healing work, witchcraft is traditionally the domain of women. Even in the relatively forward-thinking country of High Rannoc, I tend to get some variation on ‘oh, how progressive!’ when I tell people my vocation. Often if you get a man doing witchcraft, his neighbors will whisper certain things about him. My neighbors back home were whispering those things about me anyway, so that wasn’t much of a hurdle to me.

Mòrag (she insisted I call her by her first name once we’d been properly introduced) gave me a brief tour of Greenmoor. It is, to put it lightly, tiny. I’d estimate a population around fifty. Near everyone has a job that serves an internal function to the community, with maybe the exception of the innkeeper. There are blacksmiths, miners, a carpenter, a tanner… she didn’t indicate any artists or poets or anything of that sort to me, which was disheartening. Even when I thought I would only be here briefly, I was hoping to enjoy the finer things the locals had to offer. The closest this town comes is a library, but I sorely doubt they have any kind of collection of works by local authors.

Mòrag pointed out all the magical resources in town, and some of them impressed me—the lunar tower and ritual circle in particular looked useful. She did not show me any apothecary, and following her aforementioned advice, I took that to mean there wasn’t one. Can’t wait to go out and experience the joys of foraging in the wilderness myself.

Once we’d gone through the entire village, she showed me to the cottage where I’ll be staying. It’s a little ways away from the town proper, down a walking path through some trees. It’s little more than a one-room thing, with only the washroom closed off from the rest of the space. The walls and door are made of dark wood, and the outside still has bark attached in many places. The roof is sloped and overgrown with moss and ivy. Inside the main room there is a bed, a large set of shelves which ought to have reagents and potion-making materials on them but are mostly bare, and a table on which this book sits. The washroom has a tub and a latrine—no plumbing to be found. Out back sits the remains of a garden, only one plot of which looks salvageable. A ways back into the trees there’s a creek. Most of the rest of the clearing is in the early stages of becoming overgrown, with trees and bushes and flowers starting to stretch themselves out and remembering how to be wild.

Mòrag told me the witch who was here before me was a bit of a recluse. No one in town knew very much about her, and she seemed to prefer it that way. They came to her for her healing potions and never made it past small talk and kept inviting her to parties and festivals even though she never attended. And then one day nearly everyone in town woke up with a gift from her—the farmers received her animals, the barkeep her ferments, the innkeeper and bakers her crops. As the townspeople tallied their gifts they realized it amounted to nearly everything she owned. They went together to her cottage to ask her why she’d given it all away, and found her cottage—this cottage—empty. The ensuing search turned up no body, no note, not a shred of evidence to speak of. It was as if she’d disappeared into thin air. As the townsfolk talked and wondered what had happened, they quickly realized no one knew her well enough to provide any real insight. They couldn’t even come to a consensus on what her name was.

They had quickly moved on to discussing the more pressing issue: the town was lacking a healer. The general store owner had worked with my tutor Edith in years prior (Edith loved to tell stories of the time she spent pursuing the culinary arts). Thus, the letter and thus, my presence.

Mòrag told me she hoped I might be more engaged in the community than my predecessor. I decided to refrain from telling her not to get her hopes up, and instead expressed my confusion: I’d thought this was a single gig, that I was to heal someone of their illness and then leave.

She disabused me of that notion with rather more intensity than I think was warranted.

She told me that unless my predecessor reappeared, I was all they had. She said Edith had spoken highly of my abilities in her return letter (I doubted that—Edith never spoke highly of anyone). She told me I would receive a base pay of 20 silver per cure to start, and that if I did the townsfolk well and they grew to like me, they’d most certainly be willing to pay more. She told me that the folks of Greenmoor were good people, even if they were a bit disaster-prone and some of them could make good use of a little more common sense.

And, well, how do you say no to that?

When I asked where I would be getting my materials, she told me the areas surrounding Greenmoor were rich in natural resources. So it will be as I feared. I’m glad I brought my off-road boots.

Mòrag left me to get settled in and I immediately took stock. There are no reagents on the shelves (of course not! Why would there be?), but I did find a cauldron, mortar and pestle, and a copper alembic (which is used for distilling)—so at least once I have the reagents I’ll be able to do some basic cooking with them. I also found a small leather-bound book with vague descriptions of some of the areas surrounding the village. I should be able to cross-reference it with my notes on the environments where useful reagents can be found to make searching for materials a bit less painful.

I pulled a matted tangle of weeds out of the garden plot, but it looks like whatever was planted underneath already shriveled away to nothing. Well, at least the land’s clear now.

One thing that I knew I’d need if I was going to be able to handle this was a familiar. I’ve never been one for conjuration but in this case it’s an unfortunate necessity. I was supposed to be getting one within the next few weeks at Edith’s anyway, and I already knew the process. You’re supposed to have a more experienced witch observe your first time, but that’s just academic formality—there’s nothing actually dangerous about the process.

I found what looks to be a quarter cran basket (was my predecessor into fishing…?) under the bed, and set out around the property collecting small rocks and flowers and toadstools that had the right kinds of vibration. They were for use in the ritual, but also collecting them was a good start to cleaning the property up. Because if I’m going to be living here, it cannot stay looking like this.

I took the basket into the woods near the creek and laid its contents out in a circle as wide as I was tall. Before I placed each one down, I held it for a moment and asked it to help me with my task. Then, I sat in the center of my circle and closed my eyes and tried to meditate. Clearing my head has never been my strong suit, but I’m usually able to fudge the process enough to do what needs doing. This time took a bit longer than usual but eventually I managed. I felt my energy (spirit, consciousness, whatever) radiating out from me, pink and orange and bright and loud, first to the edges of the circle and then beyond. All of it asked a single question and listened for the answer.

The response came from much closer than anticipated, when I felt something small hop onto my knee.

I opened my eyes and looked down to see a frog staring back at me, blinking lazily and making small, guttural noises. Her back was green and rough and slimy. One of her eyes was milky, pointing vaguely off to the left, while the other gazed straight at me. The tips of her toes (three on each foot) edged closer to brown than the rest of her body.

Having clearly presented herself, she now asked if my gut said we would be good partners.

I’ve named her Ailean.

And now here I am, writing all of this down. I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage this every day. Whoever reads this may have to settle for a few times a week. With that said, I do think I’d like to go back and read what my predecessor wrote. Maybe it’ll give a clue as to where she’s gone, and help me escape this position sooner. She seems to have been quite the prolific writer—getting through her logs could take months, especially if the townsfolk keep me particularly busy with their various woes. I’ll have to start reading sooner rather than later.

Speak of the devil, there’s a knock on my door. It hasn’t even been a full day and I might already have my first customer. I’ll finish this later.

⇦●〇●⇨

[sxvxrxssnape]

minerva mcgonagall’s personal mission to make severus love christmas part 5

aka snolidays/snapemas day 11 and 12 (hot chocolate, baking) // pre-PS/the years between. minerva and severus friendship // content warning: panic attack and mentions of lily potter. i feel like this should be considered a snapetober entry oops. word count: 4287  @blog4snape

The night ended with more hot chocolate as the five stood together and watched a choreography of lights move above the pond, creating elves loading a sack full of gifts onto the outline of a waiting sleigh, watched it become glowing reindeer pulling it off the ground, rising in height and getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared and the light show began again. 

It felt like magic and he refused to believe none was involved. 

He fell asleep fully clothed that night, contentment and milk chocolate running through his veins as he begrudgingly made another mark on the imaginary scorecard. 

Minerva was definitely winning.

Saturday was spent finishing the potions for the infirmary, bottling and stoppering the dozens of phials, and methodically scrubbing the cauldrons clean as he read from a book hovering above the wash basin, the pages turning with a flick of his head. 

He dropped the potions off at the hospital wing, secretly pleased that Poppy was far too busy with a floo call to a student’s parents to bother giving him more than a thankful nod and a wave of her hand. He didn’t mind their conversations, but when three students were laid up sick on starched cots, Severus preferred to be as far away from the infestation as possible. 

He spent the night reading, a cup of tea in hand, the soft glow of candlelight nearby to illuminate the words of one of the books he had picked up from Diagon Alley. 

Sunday morning found him sprawled out on the couch in his living quarters, fully dressed once again, with the candles snuffed and the book astray, the teacup still nestled between a cushion and his thigh. 

He spent the day holed up in his office with a correcting quill, the stack of essays he kept putting off, and no less than four packets of crisps. It was dinnertime by the time he finished reading all the scrolls of parchment, his fingers cramping and eyes bleary. He had the beginning of a headache forming, but the grading was nearly caught up on. 

The remainder were short-answer questions, at least.

He wasn’t sure he could sit through another stack of eighteen inch essays for at least another month.

Perhaps two. 

The crisps had made him nauseous, so rather than attending dinner in the Great Hall, he flooed into the staff lounge and helped himself to his precious french press that had been left behind. As the coffee grounds soaked, he glanced around the room and took in the stockings.

There were some new additions.

There were his and Minerva’s - white, cable-knitted with fur trim, bearing their names embroidered in black thread - but also a bright blue with Filius’ initials, a pastel-pink made from crushed velvet with Pomona’s name spelled out in tiny yellow flowers, a black with silver snowflakes bearing Aurora’s family crest, and a neon orange war crime that could only belong to the headmaster. 

All of them had candy canes peeking out. 

There was a tree in the corner now - a tall, proud-looking noble fir - looking like an oversized houseplant when it was devoid of lights and decorations. He finished making his coffee and sat down at the round table, eyeing it carefully.

The rest of the castle was still surprisingly devoid of holiday decorations, but if this tree had already arrived, it was only a matter of time before the rest of it started creeping in. Soon enough, the place would look like a tinsel factory had exploded inside of it and the number of trees within the castle walls would put the Forbidden Forest to shame. 

He scowled at the thought. 

Later, he realized he had spoken too soon. 

Monday morning brought a fresh shower of snowflakes, a drop in temperature, and about thirty-six douglas firs into the Great Hall. These were already decked out with lights, ribbon, and colorful baubles. Some of the trees had clearly chosen sides, cheerily standing tall with the weight of red and gold ornaments, while others were laden with green and silver, blue and bronze, or gold and black. 

Garland clung to the old brick, neatly tied with red ribbon and perfect pinecones, spaced out above the portraits and high, arched windows. 

He didn’t want to think about the rest of the castle. 

There was white chocolate peppermint tea waiting for him at the staff table, so he conceded that not everything that morning was absolutely terrible. 

Tuesday was a bad potions day.

Not for him as a brewer, of course, but as a professor. 

By the time both his classes ended, eight different cauldrons had either melted, exploded, or absolutely disintegrated without a trace. He lost a full jar of moonstones because one student had decided to bring the entire fucking container to her table rather than count them out beforehand like he had advised, and it had taken all his self-control to stop himself from breaking down right in front of the class of sixth years. 

He had collected those moonstones himself, wandering the Forbidden Forest all fucking night, with only a lantern to light the way. They were supposed to last him at least another two months before he would need to venture out again - and the last time he had gone out, he’d nearly sprained his ankle on an upturned root and gotten a tree branch to the fucking face. 

Tuesday evening found him four drinks in, asking the house elves to please bring him some hot, salty chips from a local shop, and when the darling little elf returned with the newspaper cone, he babbled stupidly for two solid minutes from gratitude alone. 

Wednesday was a headache, a blur of back-to-back classes, a lot of frustrated yelling at completely inept students, a full pot of that wonderful white chocolate peppermint tea, and a sudden decision to not assign any more homework for the rest of the year.

Not because the awful little slimeballs deserved a break, but because he did. 

The elves made mushroom and wild rice soup for dinner, alongside everything else they always made, and Severus took more comfort than usual in the hot meal. 

Wednesday night was his turn to patrol the castle, so he stayed up half the night wandering the empty corridors. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he entered the Astronomy Tower, groaning as he realized Aurora was still there, carefully packing away her supplies post-lesson. 

“Oh, don’t act like you aren’t glad to see me.”

“Believe me when I say I’m not.” Severus returned, stepping to the edge and looking over the grounds. Most of it was cloaked by shadows, but the silver light from the moon was still enough to softly make out the silhouettes of the greenhouses and Hagrid’s little hut. “What, no comment on how I’m out past my bedtime?”

Aurora laughed, putting a bronze telescope back into its case and fiddling with the straps. “Not this time, no.” She glanced up at him and warned: “But don’t you ever make me miss out on family dinner again or you will regret it.” 

Thursday morning he slept in. 

He barely had enough time to pull on his teaching robes and run fingers through his hair before he had to hightail it to his classroom, frazzled and out of breath. He hadn’t had time to prepare the chalkboard the day before, and was quickly writing out the recipe in his messy scrawl, when the seventh years started filtering in.

“Alright, you’re going to need number three pewter cauldrons today,” he called out over his shoulder, finishing the last line of script. “Fill them with two liters of room temperature water and put your burners on low. Today we’re going to be brewing a more complex -”

“Professor?” 

He scowled at the interruption. “What is it, Mr. Greenwood.” 

“I think your robe might be inside out.”

He blinked and tried not to let his face flush with embarrassment. “Thank you, now as I was saying -” he continued awkwardly, shrugging out of his robe and flipping the sleeves inside out. 

“Your shirt buttons are fucked up too.” 

“Language!” he scolded, swallowing down the sharp coil of emotion building at the back of his throat. “And do not speak to me like that.”

“Hey, you’re the one walking in here, unprepared, with your clothes all fucked.” Greenwood muttered. “Just what were you up to before class, sir?” he grinned, his comment eliciting a few chuckles.

“Detention, Greenwood.”

“Now, wait a second!” the boy faltered.

“Do you wish to make it two?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he raised an eyebrow in questioning contempt. “Because we can surely arrange that.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

He finished the lesson on autopilot, quickly fixing the buttons on his shirt in the supply closet, fingers shaking nervously as he muttered angrily to himself. He shrugged back into his robes, double-checking they weren’t inside out again, and downed a calming draught on a whim - the shiny light blue bottle catching his eye from its place on the shelf - before returning to his desk. 

He made sure to scowl at each of them in turn and surprisingly enough, not another student made an unwarranted comment about his appearance, his teaching, or even each other. It kept him from reaching for another calming draught when he felt its effects lifting. 

Friday found him having a panic attack.

Then again, if no one opened the door to the broom closet he had squandered in, if no one came face-to-face with his crouched down, fingers tangled in his hair, not-quite-yet-out-of-breath, full body trembling self, could anyone really prove he was having an anxiety attack?

He’d barely made it through his second class and had dismissed the second years twenty minutes early, sans homework - and oh, Merlin, they were going to think he'd gone soft - before attempting to return to his personal quarters.

It didn’t quite work out as planned. 

His knees had felt shaky and he’d felt as if something were gripping at his throat, pressing down on his lungs, and he had to sit down and ground himself before he had a full-on breakdown in the middle of the corridor. He’d found himself stumbling, as he hid behind the closest doorway, the tidal wave of unchecked emotions too much.

His resolve was breaking.

He tried to focus on his Occlumency shields, tried to push back the unfiltered pain and fear he refused to think about - could not think about - because if he did, he was afraid he would never be able to function again. He was afraid he would break.

The dam was already broken though and now, now the rest of it felt inevitable. 

Now he was simply gasping for breath, tears welling in his eyes that he refused to let fall, sitting on the floor of a dusty broom closet, bathed in the dull yellow light that flared whenever it sensed movement, like some sort of spotlight - a beacon honing in on him, existing solely to put his downfall on display. 

Far too many thoughts were flitting around his head, crashing into each other and making it difficult to tell them apart, to pinpoint just what had been the trigger, the reason behind his weakness - because surely, that’s what this was right now: weakness.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor and he tried his best to muffle his ragged gasps, hand curled into a fist and pressed into his mouth, teeth sinking into the pale flesh, threatening to break through from the force he was using, so desperate he was to not make a sound. 

It didn’t work.

The footsteps paused, their owner faltering. 

Voices were speaking from the other side, hushed and mumbled, and with another stroke of panic, Severus realized they belonged to more than one. Students, most likely, and he curled tighter into himself, vehemently wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Are you okay?” a hesitant voice traveled through the aged wood. 

He didn’t answer, but he figured his breaths were answer enough.

“Are you having a panic attack?” a different voice called out, sounding just as unsure as the first. “It sounds like you’re really struggling.”

“Do you need help?”

“They probably can’t answer, dummy.” a third voice spoke up, but this one wasn’t addressing him. They were all familiar, but his brain wasn’t letting him process anything to fruition. “Hey, if you can hear us knock on the door.”

He considered ignoring them, but in the end he knocked.

“Good!” the first voice praised. “Alright, knock if we were right about the panic attack.”

Again, he knocked. 

“Do you want help?” the second student asked. “I’ve helped my share of students through these.” He suddenly recognized Casper Jenkin’s voice, one of his seventh year Slytherin prefects. 

He groaned; as if this situation could get any worse. 

“I’m gonna take that as a no.” Oliver Greenwood’s voice muttered, so apparently yes, it could get worse. He was stumbled upon by his own snakes - and his disrespecting seventh years, at that. 

“Do you want us to get someone?” Allison Bone, the original speaker, questioned. “Madam Pomfrey or your Head of House? If you’re all the way down here, you’re probably a Slytherin, huh?”

He choked out a laugh at that. 

“Laughing!” Bone approved. “Laughing is good! That means you’re getting control of your breathing. The worst part of it is over now.” 

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Jenkin told him, and the doorknob started turning. “It’s probably pretty cramped in there - definitely won’t help.”

“Don’t!” he let out, just as the door opened and he found himself blinking up at his snakes, the three of them blinking down at him, equally dumbfounded, and he wanted to scream at whatever joke of a higher being had shifted the cards enough to lead him here. 

“Oh!”

“Professor Snape?!”

He lifted a shaky hand to his face, brushing back disheveled locks of hair. “Get out.” he whispered, low and angry, not caring about the semantics that it technically didn’t apply. 

“Are you sure you don’t need -” Bone started, then faltered at the growing expression on his face. “Right, we’re leaving.” 

Greenwood eyed him a second longer than his companions, but rather than the teasing glint he usually held whenever addressing him in class, he wore something softer. “Sorry.” he mouthed, genuine concern flickering for a brief moment before he also left. 

He put his head in his hands and started laughing, softly at first, but when it became an ugly sob, he fought to regain his composure, nails digging into his scalp. 

He managed a deep breath, wiped his face on the sleeve of his robe, and hurried to his personal quarters. He was moving on autopilot now, slipping out of his teaching robes and into a jumper, grabbing a bit of floo powder and calling out a quiet, “may I come through?” when the flames turned a brilliant green. 

He stepped into Minerva’s quarters, bypassing her concerned look and collapsed onto the old couch, pointedly ignoring her as he stared at the vaulted ceiling. 

“Severus?”

“Panic attack.” he mumbled.

He remained silent after that, listening to the rustling of parchment and paper, the soft scribbling of a quill nib making its way across the page. For a few minutes, that was the only sound, until suddenly Minerva stood up and opened up the floo. Hushed voices followed, then silence, and he finally sat up when he heard the distinct pop of a house elf apparating into the room. 

Dorset, one of the school elves most identifiable by his height, was balancing a tray on one hand and a heavy-looking box on the other. He placed both on the kitchen table, nodded at the two, and apparated away.

“What’s this?” Severus asked, his voice gravelly and tired, as he stood up and approached the table. 

The box was filled with an assortment of items - butter, eggs, icing sugar, flour, and the like. He could see a bag full of dirigible plums sitting right on top and he smiled despite himself. The tray was holding two ceramic mugs, their contents hidden by the mountain of whipped cream and cinnamon they were topped with. 

“Sit down with me.” Minerva said simply, picking up the tray and bringing it to the couch. She sat down at one end, placing the cups on the coffee table, and waited. When he sat down, facing her, she handed him a warm mug. “I asked for hot chocolate.” she told him, eyeing him carefully. “Specifically the gingerbread one we had last week.”

“I liked that one.” Severus mumbled, staring down at his cup.

“I know.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping on their hot chocolate, and Severus could feel his anxiety slowly ebb away as it was replaced by warm comfort. 

“You look awful.” she finally spoke up.

He smiled ruefully, but it felt more like a grimace. “I appreciate the honesty.”

“Have you noticed, how every time you experience feelings of distress, someone always tends to interrupt before we can talk?” she asked, watching him. “I think we’ve been putting it off long enough, don’t you think?”

“No.”

“We never got to talk about Yaxley.”

“We didn’t need to.”

“We also never finished our conversation about how you ask for my company whenever you venture out of the castle.”

Severus gripped his mug tightly. “You said enough.”

“You still flinch when people touch you.”

“Can you blame me?”

Minerva paused, studying him in a way that left him feeling exposed. “They’re all connected.”

He kept silent.

Her next words were unexpected. “What about Lily?”

“What about her?” he growled out, anger taking hold and manifesting into shaking hands. He swallowed down the bile he could feel rising, the taste of milk and chocolate suddenly acrid on his tongue.

“You never talk about her.”

“That’s because I don’t have anything to say about her!” Severus finally yelled, nearly dropping his mug. He set it on the coffee table and balled his hands into fists, refusing to break eye contact with the professor before him. “Lily died four years ago, but she stopped being my friend long before that! Do you want to talk about the guilt I carry, knowing it was my fault she died? Because no amount of talking, nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for the fact that I killed my best friend! And I hate myself for that, but Merlin, do I hate her too.”

“Do you?”

“Yes!” he burst out, the words he could never dare himself to say aloud now slipping off his tongue without trouble. “She was my best friend and then she sided with them, with him, after what he did to me! And that’s when I knew she was never really my friend! She saw what he - what he did,” he was starting to gasp for air again, “and she still, she - he -” 

He focused on steadying his breathing, arms wrapped around his torso. 

“I don’t.” Severus finally amended, in such a soft voice he wasn’t sure it even carried. “I want to hate her so much - and I am so angry at her, angrier than I’ve ever been at anyone - but I don’t hate her. I can’t. Maybe I wasn’t her friend, in the end, but I know she was mine. I lost so many people in the war, but she’s the one who hurts the most, so no, I don’t want to talk about Lily.”

Minerva hummed. “You sort of already did.”

He scowled.

“Drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.”

Some of his anger fizzled out as he finished the drink. When they were done, Minerva stood up and started pulling out the contents of the box, lining them up on the counter. He joined her, watching as she leafed through a cookbook he hadn’t noticed. 

“We’re going to do some holiday baking now.”

“Are we?”

“If you’re not going to talk to me about what led to all this,” she gestured in his general direction, “then we’re going to bake some things for the staff party tomorrow.”

He nodded, sighing. “Where do you want me?”

They spent a few minutes in stilted silence, as he washed the bag of dirigible plums and cooked them down into a sauce, stirring in ground cardamom and honey. Meanwhile, Minerva whisked double cream and cornstarch with vanilla sugar and salt, the pot resting over low flames. He added the plum sauce and smiled as it came together and turned into the warm orange color he remembered. 

“What next?” he inquired, after the thickened mix had been poured into a mold and tucked away in the cold cupboard. 

“Biscuits?”

The sugar dough came together easily enough, pale yellow and perfectly smooth, and as they sprinkled flour over the table to roll it out, Severus started fiddling with the holiday cutters. 

“I can hear you thinking.” Minerva spoke up a few minutes later, dusting her hands off on a clean towel. She reached for a tree-shaped cutter and started pressing it into the dough. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Sure you don’t.”

They finished cutting out all their shapes, moved their biscuits into the oven, and cleaned off the kitchen table. Minerva was opening small jars of sprinkles while Severus whisked together icing sugar and egg whites. He focused on dividing the royal icing into small bowls, adding droplets of colored dye and stirring carefully as if they were a temperamental potion, when he finally broached the earlier subject: “They are all connected.”

“Pardon?”

He didn’t look up, merely repeated himself. “They’re all connected.”

Minerva pulled the baking tray out of the oven and cast a cooling charm before bringing the perfectly baked biscuits to the table. Severus picked one up and absentmindedly broke it into pieces. He shared it with Min and picked up another biscuit, carefully dipping this one into the bowl of red icing and shaking off the excess. 

He reached for the star sprinkles. “I try not to think about any of it.”

“You’ll have to, eventually.”

He thought about the broom closet. “I know.”

Minerva dipped a star biscuit into the bowl of yellow icing and handed it over to Severus, who immediately covered it with three different colors of sprinkles. They worked in tandem for a few minutes, dipping and sprinkling all their biscuits, and eventually a spoon was introduced to their project and Severus found himself drizzling thin stripes across some of them.

“I’m giving this one a Dreadful.” Minerva decided, picking up what was supposed to be an ornament, originally dipped in white icing, but then covered with uneven globs of blue. 

“Fair enough.” Severus shrugged, levitating the dirty dishes and moving them to the wash basin, spelling the water on. He picked up a candy cane-shape that had been rolled in yellow and violet sprinkles and then drizzled with green. “This one, however, is deserving of a Troll.”

Minerva spelled the dishes to wash themselves and then raised an eyebrow at him. “Severus, you decorated that one.”

“I’m aware.”

The yule log cake was a little more time consuming to make. He sat down at the table and watched Minerva separate eggs and whisk the whites with sugar until it foamed.

“It would be faster if you spelled the whisk.” Severus offered.

“We tried that once.” Minerva laughed, not slowing down. “It worked great at first, but all of a sudden, the whisk was flinging meringue all over the room.”

“How delightful.”

Meringue was light and shiny and the brightest white he could imagine. Min filled a piping bag with the foam and showed him how to pipe little mushroom tops on the baking paper. When he took the bag from her, he was surprised to find it bore no weight.

“Do you not know how to hold a piping bag?”

“Evidently not.” he grumbled, looking at his hand and the fluff of meringue that had spilled out of the bag and over his hand. 

“You’re supposed to hold the end closed, you numpty.”

“Numpty?” Severus muttered under his breath.

“Elphinstone always did the same thing.” Minerva shook her head, fixing the bag and finishing the job. “No matter how many times I corrected him, that man couldn’t hold it right. Always went off about how he’s the ministry liaison for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Min, I don’t need piping meringue mushrooms in my skill set.” She took in a shaky breath and set down the bag. “See? Perfect.”

“Min-”

“Don’t just stand there, Severus.” she scolded, thrusting the cookbook in his hands. “Get to work measuring the dry ingredients. You can make the cake while I make the frostings.” 

He started sifting flour and cocoa powder. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”

“Of course I know that.” she humphed, putting the tray in the oven and spelling the dishes clean. She unwrapped a stick of butter and stared at him. “Do you know that?”

“Minerva, I only met your husband twice.” he deadpanned.

She flicked a bit of icing sugar at him. “Don’t be smart with me. I’m not the one repressing all my emotions and pretending they don’t exist until I can’t stave off the impending panic attack and end up crashing in my colleague's quarters because of it.” 

“Fine, you win this one.” he muttered. “You are the pinnacle of mental health, professor.” 

“Excellent.” Minerva grinned, but her smile seemed a little bitter. “Does this mean you’re going to talk to me now?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Numpty.” she repeated. 

---- a/n: i was in the mood for angst tm also the ending feels a little rushed but it is 3am rip. im not gonna finish this series by christmas but my goal is new years. time exists in a vacuum anyway and is not real. ps. let me know what you think pls!! it gives me all the seratonin

[notapaladin]

let that fever make the water rise

no one: absolutely no one: deafening silence: me: hey, you know what I think would SLAP? teocatl mermaid AU!

Anyway, this is that, and you can also read it on AO3

-

The house of Coyoacan’s lowest-ranking priest for the Dead stood nearly at the edge of Lake Texcoco. If Acatl wished it, he could have rowed into Tenochtitlan from his back door. Tenochtitlan was where his family was, so he didn’t. They didn’t want to see him now that he’d become a priest? Well, the feeling was mutual.

He sighed, studying the tamale he’d been picking at for what felt like the last hour. This early in the morning—or should that be late at night?—time was a blurry, formless thing. He hadn’t slept. He knew he should; Mihmatini would have wanted him to. But he’d been so busy. Quite aside from his normal duties of attending to funerals and laying the dead to rest safely, there had been a string of thefts he’d been called to investigate despite his repeated attempts to explain that his particular skillset worked much better with murders or curses. The magistrate had been unmoved. And so here he was, exhausted down to his bones, trying to eat something before hopefully catching a few hours of rest.

It wasn’t even a good tamale. His mother’s had been better. Duality, he could make better, and he was a mediocre cook. But it was food, and he was hungry. He ate.

Judging by the gray smudges to the east, the sun was trying to rise. He grimaced. Food. Clean my teeth. Give devotion to the gods. And then...gods, and then I can sleep.

He felt a little lightheaded, even with a fuller belly. Without really thinking about it, he started first to hum and then—softly, to himself—to sing. The words of a lullaby his mother had sung to Mihmatini came easily to his mind and his tongue. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever sung it to him. “Sleep, my precious silver, my precious jade, sleep...”

Oh. Right. He’d meant to do that, hadn’t he? Sleep was a good idea.

Before he could head back inside, something rippled in the water below. He held very still. It was too large to be an ordinary fish, but the dark shape hidden in the reeds had something of the tlilcoatl—massive man-eating serpents—in its movements, and the last thing he wanted to do was startle it. They could lunge much farther out of the water than it appeared. Slowly, very slowly, he crumpled his tamale wrapper in one fist and made to back away.

Deep breath. No sudden movements. He was far enough away to risk turning around, and they never went far on land—

A voice sounded behind him, low but with not an ounce of hesitation. “You sing beautifully.”

He spun back around, and what he saw made him drop the remains of his tamale.

Oh, everyone knew tlanchana existed, but there was never any agreement on what they really were. Servants of Tlaloc, some said; children of Serpent Skirt, said others. They were either monstrous fish with human limbs or seductive maidens that drowned young warriors. Acatl had, in the past, privately suspected a mixture of giant fish and far too much pulque on the part of the tale-teller. He’d never met anyone who could probe otherwise. But now there was one staring at him, and it was much too early in the morning to get drunk even if he’d been allowed. Dimly he thought, Oh, all of them were wrong.

Yes, the tlanchana was definitely beautiful—dark-skinned, dark-haired, with fingers ending in delicate claws and gleaming crimson gills like knife wounds in his throat. But he was also very definitely not a maiden; the lean, rippling muscles currently on display as he rested his elbows on the edge of the landing were decidedly male, and Acatl was ashamed to find that the sight of the water beading on them made his heart thump a little faster in his chest. And his face—the tlanchana had the face of a proud young warrior, all high cheekbones and elegantly curved, hawkish nose. Dark, dark eyes focused on him for a moment, and then cut away as the monster—the man?—murmured, “I’ve disturbed you,” and sank below the water again.

He yelped, “Wait!”

The tlanchana resurfaced, pushing hair out of his eyes and blinking up at him. Acatl’s last vestiges of fear fled as he saw the faint tinge of red in his cheeks. He hadn’t realized they could blush. “What?” Gods, it sounded almost sulky. He wondered how young he was.

“I,” he began, and stopped. Swallowed. He hadn’t planned for this. He didn’t think you could plan for this. All he knew was that there was something terrible and beautiful in front of him, and he didn’t want it to leave yet. “You didn’t...disturb me. I was just...surprised.” Understatement of the age. “I’ve never seen one of your kind before.”

The—boy? Acatl put his age at maybe a decade younger than himself, if tlanchana aged like humans—grinned brightly, revealing a large number of terrifyingly sharp teeth. “We stay hidden when we can. But when a pretty priest comes out in the morning and starts singing...well, I was curious. We always love human singers, especially ones with such nice voices.”

Now it was his turn to blush. “I’m not—I’m a priest for the Dead, I’m not...” True, he’d had admirers in his calpulli, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just a man.

The boy propped his elbows up on the landing again, lifting himself half out of the water. Rivulets streamed down his skin, and that careless grin grew warm and almost...oh, gods help him, almost interested when he saw how Acatl’s eyes unconsciously followed them. “You are. What’s your name, pretty priest?”

He swallowed again, keeping his gaze on the undisturbed section of lake. The lake was safe. The lake didn’t make his heart pound frantically from what he was resolutely labeling nerves. “...Acatl,” he muttered. He’d never been more glad to have such a common name.

Oh, looking at the lake didn’t save him. He could hear the warmth in the boy’s voice. “Acatl. A good name. I’m Teomitl, and it is an honor to—“

The conchs blared, and Teomitl vanished below the water so fast that his serpent’s tail broke the surface in a shimmering jade-green arc of scales. Acatl was left staring at the space where he’d been in utter bafflement, waiting for his brain to catch up.

I met a tlanchana. Who called me pretty. He bit his tongue, hard. The pain was proof he hadn’t just dreamed that. Storm Lord strike him, they’d been close enough to touch if he’d dared to take just a step or two forward. He realized he had a deathgrip on the edge of his cloak and made himself release it with a huff.

So his life had just been flipped upside-down. It didn’t change what he had to do. He went back into his house. He slashed his earlobes, paying his devotions to the Sun and to Lord Death. He cleaned the wounds, his teeth, and his face. He laid down on his mat.

But despite how tired he was, sleep did not come. He kept remembering Teomitl’s smile and that bright flash of his tail breaking the mirror-calm surface of the lake. He kept remembering, too, the warmth in his voice. Nobody had ever, ever spoken to him like that, at least not since he’d been a boy with Huchimitl trailing after him. Since becoming a priest of the Dead, his gray cloak and uncut hair had marked him irrevocably as one set apart for the gods.

I suppose tlanchana don’t care about that, he mused. Then again, they are the gods’ creations. It must be different for them. It was certainly different for Teomitl. His heartbeat sped up again; he stared blankly at the lightening ceiling of his room, but for once that didn’t calm him. He’d met a creature—no, he’d met a young man. A handsome young man. A handsome young man who paid him compliments, as though he was a man who was allowed to accept them.

He rolled over with a grimace, squeezing his eyes shut. I wish I could, came his last thought before sleep finally rose up like an ahuitzotl to drag him into dreams of shimmering scales and the tracery of sharp claws on his skin.

The rest of the day was utterly, depressingly normal. He woke eventually after not enough rest, judged the time to be around noon, and set to sweeping his courtyard and the area in front of his house until a very officious-looking assistant to the magistrate came to collect him. Another theft, stinking of magic. Another attempt to explain that unless it came from the underworld he probably couldn’t help. Another long trek halfway across town to view the scene of the crime, take stock of a rich trader’s wife’s missing jewelry, and pick up no trace of the underworld whatsoever.

When he finally made it home, the sun was setting, and the lake behind his house was calm. But there was a single, perfectly round stone sitting in the dirt, polished smooth by the water. He picked it up, rolling it over in his palm. There was no sense of clinging magic, but neither was it the sort of thing that would just come to rest in its position of its own accord. The tlanchana—Teomitl—had been here.

Hesitantly, he called, “Teomitl?”

There was no answer. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when it caught in the tangles. He was here. I know it. And he...he left me a present. Because that was definitely what the rock was; it was sun-warmed and fit perfectly in his palm, a comfortable weight. Something he could roll around or run his thumb over, smoothing away worries with the motion.

“Thank you,” he said out loud, though he wasn’t sure if anyone was there to hear.

The next morning brought another gift, this time a chipped clay jug with several live, wriggling, irate lake crawfish. He stared at it for a long moment before deciding that food was clearly food, and not to be wasted. But generosity demanded reciprocation, and he had nothing to give.

He said he liked my singing. But embarrassment stopped his throat, and so instead he croaked, “Thank you,” again. A distant splash, rippling jade in the water, was his only response.

He had the crawfish for breakfast and set out on his daily tasks with a full belly, a light heart, and a tingling sense of—fear? No, not that. He thought he could call it nervousness, but that didn’t fit either. Anticipation, that was it. For the first time in a long, long while, he had something he could look forward to. Tonight. I’ll try to catch him tonight.

But the day brought a frantic chase through the city streets in search of a murderous Haunting Mother, which was at least something he was qualified for, and so by the time he staggered back into his own courtyard—exhausted, lightly bleeding, and dreaming of his own mat—he was almost glad to have missed Teomitl again. He just didn’t have the energy. Especially when a search of the pier brought not just a pretty stone or a cache of fresh fish, but a shining silver necklace with a broken clasp. It was tarnished, and the jade owl pendant it bore was loose in its setting, but it was still the finest thing Acatl had ever owned personally, and he felt his face burn just looking at it. “Teomitl,” he muttered, and now he felt eyes on him.

He looked up, squinting in the dusk. Nothing. But he knew that those dark eyes were out there, and suddenly it annoyed him. Clearing his throat pointedly, he addressed the water. “If you’re going to keep giving me things like this, young man, the least you can do is deliver them in person.”

Something splashed in the shallows, but no shining head came to greet him. Flushed and grumbling, heart lodged in his throat, he went to try and get some sleep.

&

When he staggered back home the next day, there was no sign of Teomitl. It wasn’t until he began to prepare dinner that he found his suggestion had been honored.

Teomitl broke the water’s surface almost soundlessly, but he was making no efforts towards stealth; the slap of his forearms landing on the dirt in what seemed to be his customary lean was as loud as a thunderclap in the quiet of the afternoon. When Acatl turned to look, he was greeted by a blinding grin. All those teeth were a little less of a shock now that he knew they were there. “Well. Good evening, Acatl-tzin.”

It took a moment to get his mouth working. The arrival, he’d half-expected; the respectful honorific, not at all. “Teomitl. It’s good to see you well.” There were gold earrings in his ears. Had they been there before? He couldn’t remember; their first meeting had been the sort to drive all thoughts of such details out of his head.

Teomitl hummed in acknowledgement, eyes gleaming as he studied him. “You look well. Have you been eating?”

“Of course!” Teomitl’s raised eyebrow said he doubted this; huffily, Acatl added, “The crawfish were delicious. Thank you.” He’d overdone them, as usual, but that was his own fault.

There was that tinge of red across Teomitl’s cheekbones again, and his easy smile took on a definite curl of pride. “I’ll catch many more for you.” He paused, head tilted like an otter’s as he sniffed the air. “I smell smoke.”

Even though he knew what Teomitl was certainly smelling, Acatl found himself casting an anxious glance in the direction of his burning hearth anyway. It couldn’t be ready yet. “Dinner.”

The water rippled, some underwater thrashing of Teomitl’s tail as his eyes lit up with curiosity. “Oh, what are you eating?”

“...Greens with chili sauce.” He has teeth like flint knives. Can he even eat them? But not offering would be the height of rudeness, and...well, Teomitl had fed him. It was only right to return the favor. “Do you want some?”

“If you’re making them? Always.”

Now that was undue flattery. “Teomitl!”

“What?” Teomitl’s smile was far too innocent to actually be innocent, even when Acatl looked past the fangs. “It smells good, and so far you haven’t summoned the city guards to drag me out of the lake with nets and sell me for a profit so I’m sure it’s not poisoned.”

There was so much he wanted to say to that that for a moment he couldn’t make any words pass his lips. He thinks I would summon the guards? People would dare blaspheme against Jade Skirt or Serpent Skirt and sell one of Their blessed creations for gold or cacao beans? That’s a well-known possibility? “I—that—I would never—can you even survive out of the water?!”

“Of course I can!” Teomitl huffed, and heaved himself onto dry land.

Oh. He’d thought he’d been prepared; he’d known he was dealing with a tlanchana, after all. But as Teomitl came closer, Acatl realized he hadn’t given a single thought to what that really meant. From the waist up—if you ignored the gills somehow—Teomitl looked very much like a handsome young warrior, all rippling muscles and faint white battle scars. But starting at his hips and a handspan or so below his navel (which was fascinating in and of itself; did tlanchana give birth like human women?) smooth brown skin gave way to even smoother scales, pale gold scutes on his front and a deep, vividly mottled jade green on the rest of his body and tail. A sort of net satchel was tied around his hips. He’d somehow been expecting fins, but there were none; instead, Teomitl’s tail was vertically flattened like a sort of paddle, such that he swam like the snake he resembled. In the light, his wet scales glittered like a pile of living gems. Acatl’s fingers itched to touch them.

He wasn’t sure he remembered how to talk. “That’s very...um. Well.” Beautiful. You’re beautiful.

Teomitl slithered closer, movements graceful as a stalking jaguar. Holding himself up like this, with the first third—no, Acatl did some mental math as that tail uncoiled, the first fourth—of his body off the ground, he was tall enough to look Acatl in the eye. It made the heat in his gaze devastating. “Never seen a tlanchana before?”

“No.” Gods, he sounded like a fool.

Now Teomitl was smiling again, with just the hint of a fang showing. “...Like what you see?”

They were definitely close enough to touch. Gods, they were so close Acatl could smell him, a scent like the fields after rain. His face burned as he turned away. “I’m going to check on dinner.” It would also give him a chance to bulk up the meal; the greens in their sauce wouldn’t be enough for two.

And if he all but fled into the safety of his little house, that was only his own business. He sat down hard once he was out of sight of the doorway, breathing as though he’d just run the causeway from the city to Tenochtitlan. I took vows. The last thing I should be thinking of is...is an attractive youth like that, even if he were human. But closing his eyes didn’t help, because those gleaming muscles and shining scales had imprinted themselves on the inside of his lids. He drew in a deeper breath, held it, and let it out slowly. He would add some maize kernels to the pot. They’d eat dinner. He wouldn’t think about who he was eating it with.

When he came back, Teomitl had curled himself into a ball, nestling his upper body into his own coils. “Your house is much nicer than when the last priest lived here,” he commented, and then frowned as he added, “But the walls are so blank.”

They were blank. The whiteness of the plaster was almost blinding in direct sunlight, but the stipend given to priests didn’t extend to hiring artists. “He was old. I am busy.”

Teomitl’s brows knit. Acatl had noticed a certain sulky tendency in him when they’d first met, but seeing it up close did something to his heart. “You should have pretty mosaics, like we do.”

Mosaics? The mental image was something lovely to contemplate—polished stone gleaming in the cool blue depths of the lake—but the thought of the cost made Acatl wince. Even if he sold his new necklace, he wouldn’t be able to afford that. “We...prefer paint, generally. Frescoes.”

Teomitl waved a careless hand. “Frescoes, then. Jade Skirt on that wall there, and ahuitzotls for a border...you don’t like ahuitzotls?”

Ah. Whatever his face had been doing, it must have shown his disgust clearly. There was no use being ashamed of it now, but his ears still felt hot. “No one likes ahuitzotls,” he muttered.

Teomitl blinked at him, gills twitching slightly. “We do. They hunt for us.”

Acatl stared at him. “They drown people.”

Now the young tlanchana looked abashed, which was unfortunately a terribly cute look on him. “...Hm. Yes. Right.”

He looked away, letting his gaze sweep over the dusty courtyard with its single tree and leggy, overgrown flowers that had once been the beginnings of his predecessor’s very sad garden. He wondered what Teomitl saw when he looked at it. “Besides, I am a priest of Lord Death, and if anything it would have to be a border of spiderwebs.”

“What do priests of Lord Death do?”

Acatl swivelled his head around to stare at him, but apparently it was a serious question; Teomitl’s eyes were wide and curious, and this close he could see that the pupils were slit like a snake’s. “They...” he began, and stopped. It would be a long answer, and he didn’t want to burn today’s dinner too. “I’ll tell you in a moment, I do believe our meal is ready.”

It was. They ate in the courtyard; after a few moments of fumbling Acatl told himself he was not going to be endeared by, Teomitl got the hang of using tamales to scoop up the sauce. The sauce he was apparently very unused to, if his sweating and wincing were any indication. In between bites, Acatl told him of his duties on land, and Teomitl listened with all evidence of interest. During an explanation of how priests of the Dead investigated crime scenes, the tip of his tail came to rest against Acatl’s thigh and stayed there.

“...so truly, most of my vocation just involves laying out bodies for burial or cremation—um.”

Eyelids lowered as Teomitl sank down, so he was looking up at Acatl through long lashes. “Hm?”

Teomitl’s tail was surprisingly warm, the scales dry and smooth. As it started to slide experimentally over his leg, he froze up, heart hammering in his chest. It was suddenly much, much too warm. “Ngh.” His tongue wasn’t obeying him; he had to take a larger-than-average bite of his meal and chew vigorously to remind his mouth it was supposed to do things. Time for a topic change. “Nothing. What do you do?”

Teomitl didn’t puff himself up, but Acatl took note of how he straightened, how the notes of pride rang through his voice. “I am a warrior; I keep my people safe from tlilcoatls and all the other things in the lake. When I bring back sufficient proof of my valor, I’ll be granted our greatest privilege.”

Acatl nodded, mind stuck on those things in the lake. His father had drowned, and he had been unable to face the vigil, but at least his body had been whole. He had lost other, more distant relatives who weren’t so lucky, and every year the tlilcoatls or ahuitzotls took at least one. And those weren’t even the worst creatures the lake had dredged up; he was amazed Teomitl didn’t have more scars if that was his vocation. Lost in thought, his eyes roamed over Teomitl’s lean form, half cataloging likely causes for those marks and half...well, he could admit Teomitl was an attractive youth, the dip of his spine where it gave way to scales seemingly shaped just for a hand to rest on it. And so he almost choked when Teomitl continued, “The right to take my place among you.”

He coughed, cleared his throat, and asked, “What.”

Teomitl looked down to their laps, tail sliding down Acatl’s calf in something like a caress. “...We can shed our tails for legs, if the need is great, and walk on land as humans. But it is...difficult. I haven’t mastered it yet.”

He was very, very glad he wasn’t eating anything; it was too easy to picture Teomitl as a boy. No—a young man, tall and straight-legged. His mind conjured up the shaved head and brilliant orange-and-black cloak of a warrior, cloth soaking wet and clinging to his skin because of course he wouldn’t be able to resist a swim on a hot day, and when his fine cotton loincloth got wet it really wouldn’t hide anything. He would have narrow hips and lean, strong legs, and if he was as graceful in motion as he was with the tail still caressing Acatl’s shins... “Ngkh,” he said intelligently.

Worse, there was a world of intent in Teomitl’s tone as he continued, “But I’ll have to practice if I’m to spend more time with you.”

“That would be...” He swallowed. He should say no. Saying no, turning him away, would be the logical thing. But Teomitl was close, and warm, and smelled like fresh water and green growing things even now, and Acatl wasn’t sure he wanted to be logical anymore. So he met Teomitl’s eyes and said, boldly, “I’d like that.”

An arm slid around his waist, slightly callused fingers digging lightly into his skin. The claws must have been lethally sharp, but now they just tickled; Acatl jolted at the unexpected sensation and oh, that was a mistake, because it pressed his side against Teomitl’s and gave him no choice other than to take in the heat of his body. Teomitl’s voice softened. “So would I. Very much.”

Oh. Oh. I could... His heart was beating so fast he felt a little dizzy with it. He could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he’d been close to another living person since his calmecac days, and none of them had been like this. From this distance, he could see the flecks of lighter brown in Teomitl’s dark eyes, feel the soft puffs of his quick breaths, and from there it was impossible not to notice the way his full lips parted slightly in anticipation. There were fangs. He’d seen the fangs. Right now, they didn’t matter.

They were so close. All either of them would have to do was lean in just a little more, and their friendly embrace would become something that would snap his vows like kindling.

“Teomitl.” His voice was the barest whisper, but it still flayed his throat raw.

Teomitl made a soft noise, a little trill in his throat—and then he pulled away, leaving Acatl bereft. While he tried to regain his equilibrium—they had not been about to kiss, surely, he must have been mistaken—Teomitl murmured, “I have something else for you. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

He blinked rapidly, mourning the loss of the arm around him as Teomitl rifled through his satchel. His limbs didn’t quite feel attached to his body, but the dry reed mat under him was a reassuring anchor, and he crunched the edge of it in his grip. He was wrong. They were friendly acquaintances, nothing more. They couldn’t be anything more than that. “Hm?”

“Here.” There was no mistaking Teomitl’s flushed cheeks for anything other than a spectacular blush, but Acatl made himself ignore it and focus instead on the gold bracelet Teomitl was holding out. It was a lovely piece engraved with birds and set with small pieces of red shell; the part of his mind that would never not see the magical associations of everything he came across judged it as a fine offering to Xochipilli or Xochiquetzal, but the rest of him felt warm from the inside out at the thought of wearing a gift from this man, even if it was so fine it made him a little nervous. It had been sized for a wrist maybe a bit more slender than his own, but he was sure it would fit.

He took it with hands that only shook a little bit. “It’s lovely.”

Teomitl’s smile outshone the sun. “I found it and thought of you. Let’s try it on! I hope it fits.”

That involved Teomitl touching him, a small agony, but he’d been right. The bangle fit perfectly. He stared down at it for a moment, marveling at how the pinkish-red and gold made even his skin look warmer. For once he looked like a man instead of something that made its home under rocks and shunned the light of day.

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it with all his heart.

&

Dawn brought with it an unpleasant stench, and at first Acatl couldn’t place it. It was far, far too soon after rising to expect great detective work out of him; after Teomitl had given him that bracelet, they’d spent a long and wonderful time just talking until the moon had risen and he’d interrupted his own tale of his entanglement with the Wind of Knives by yawning hugely. Teomitl had laughed, not unkindly, and bid him goodnight with another one of those radiant smiles. It had been a very long time until he’d gotten any sort of sleep, and even when he’d taken himself in hand with something close to desperation his mind had been absolutely full of scales and sharp teeth and the long, elegant uncoiling of a body next to his.

But now he smelled blood, and those thoughts were very far away. Blinking in the gray light, he stumbled outside and stopped cold.

No priest for the Dead was a stranger to gore. In his years of service, he’d seen the remains of murders that had turned even his stomach. But it was one thing to scrape bits of a stranger’s viscera off the walls, and another thing entirely to have so much of it splattered across his courtyard. It being animal in nature didn’t make it any better. Someone—some thing—had ripped apart several large fish and strewn the guts around; he saw multiple sightless heads, the tattered remains of fins, a spinal column coiled like a macabre necklace. And that wasn’t the worst of it. A raccoon’s head had been placed neatly on the ground with its crossed paws in front of it; there was no sign of the rest of its body.

Something rustled in the tree. He looked up, already dreading what he’d find, and somehow wasn’t surprised when he realized that the little shapes in the lower branches were dead birds hung from twigs. He clenched his fists to stop his hands shaking. This was done to intimidate me. Someone...gods, someone hates me.

And the worst part was that he couldn’t figure out who. There had been cases he’d been forced to abandon, powerful people he’d found guilty of terrible crimes, but none who would do anything like this instead of sending more physical intimidation. Someone wanted him terrified.

Well, they wouldn’t get it. He squared his shoulders and reached to take the nearest bird down.

His hands never made it there. Between one breath and the next, he heard the most unearthly chorus of thin, reedy voices, all singing in unison.

In Tlalocan, the Verdant Land The blessed land of the drowned The dead men play at balls, they cast the reeds...

No. No. He knew those voices. He knew not to listen to them. He knew they came with scrabbling claws, needlelike fangs, that they would tear out his throat and his eyes and his fingernails. But his legs were carrying him forward, and he couldn’t stop—he was almost at the water’s edge, and he could see their yellow eyes—

Something large and wet and warm crashed into him, knocking him down; only his instinctively curling back saved him from a concussion or worse, but he was still disoriented enough that it took him a few panicky heartbeats to realize that he knew the hands pressing him to earth, and a few more to focus on the face inches from his own. “What—Teomitl?!”

The singing had stopped. Crimson all the way to his ears, Teomitl slithered backwards to let him sit up. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, my brother—“

Oh, he’d been knocked into a string of fish guts. Wonderful. Picking it out of his hair, he favored Teomitl with a frown. Teomitl hadn’t volunteered any information about his family, and he hadn’t asked. He was starting to think he should have. “What about him?”

Teomitl grimaced, anger and shame showing clear as a painting on his face. “...He’s...the leader of my war band. He hates humans.”

Parts of their conversation the previous night had been extremely illuminating in regards to the myriad dangers with which the tlanchana contended daily. Acatl had no illusions regarding his likelihood of survival against the leader of a war band. “Ah.”

“He wasn’t happy to find I’ve been spending time with you,” Teomitl added unnecessarily.

“...Ah,” he said again, feeling a pit yawn wide in his chest. He was a disappointment to his family, spitting on all they had wanted for him, but Teomitl was a good and dutiful young man. If his elder brother and leader forbade him from seeing him, Acatl knew he’d obey. It was better this way, he thought dully. He’d miss him horribly, but...it would be better. He was used to being alone.

He’d made up his mind to accept the rejection gracefully when Teomitl grabbed his hand and continued, “But I’ll talk to him. This won’t happen again, I promise.”

An inarticulate noise escaped his lips. Teomitl was holding his hand. Abruptly, all his dreams of shining scales and long, well-muscled legs came roaring back. “I—you can’t—” Don’t damage your relationship with your family, your chances of proving yourself, for me. I’m not worth it.

But Teomitl’s dark, serious gaze locked onto his, and his voice took on an edge that said he’d inexplicably came to the conclusion that Acatl was. “I can. You should stay here where I can keep an eye on you. Tizoc’s not a brave man, but if he thinks you’re alone he might do more than leave a mess to clean up.”

Staying right where he was, maybe with Teomitl still holding his hand—Duality, he threw off heat like a furnace—was terribly tempting, but even as the thought crossed his mind Acatl knew he wouldn’t be able to indulge in the man’s company. Priests for the Dead didn’t get days off, and Tizoc had left a horrible mess. “I can’t. My duties...”

“Ah. Those.” Teomitl’s expression showed very clearly what he wasn’t saying.

Gently, he pulled his hand free and clambered to his feet. His cloak was a lost cause, but he had a spare, and in any case there was no point wearing it while he washed away all the...things that had been strewn around his courtyard. “I have to make my rounds today.”

Teomitl caught his lower lip between his teeth. For a horrible moment Acatl thought he was going to offer to accompany him, but all he said was, “I’ll be around. Try to stay on dry land.”

“I...alright.” The fussing should have annoyed him, but he knew there was no use complaining. Teomitl had already proved himself stubborn.

And then strong arms wrapped around him, crushing him in a bruisingly tight hug, and he let out an outraged squawk into Teomitl’s chest. Verbal protests died on his lips, however, because it was followed up by a soft, pleading murmur of, “Be careful.”

By the time he came up with any sort of response—who did Teomitl think he was, he’d been a priest for the Dead for nearly fifteen years, he was always careful—the tlanchana had released him and slipped back into the water, he was alone again, and there was no point in voicing them. Besides, he had to save his breath to draw water and clean up some of the carnage before even more flies found it.

He’d shoved the larger pieces into the canals and was working on the deeply unpleasant bird situation—really, did Tizoc have some sort of vendetta against doves? There were half a dozen of them strung up in the branches—when a slave in the cloak worn by servants of the Duality rushed in.

“Acatl-tzin!”

Given that he’d been distracted musing on whether the height of the birds he’d found represented the upper limit on how far upwards a tlanchana could stretch and still balance on their tail, it took him a moment to realize he had company. Carefully, he descended the rickety ladder and frowned at the slave. Someone important had better be dead or on fire. “...Yes?”

She didn’t make eye contact. An impressive feat, given that she was simultaneously avoiding looking directly at all the blood. An explanation was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could voice it she announced, “Mistress Ceyaxochitl requests your presence.”

He revised his earlier thought. Being summoned directly by the Guardian of the Duality in Coyoacan was much worse, or at least more irritating, than any mortal death. “...I’ll be right there.”

Of course, he wasn’t. Even after he’d washed himself and tied his cloak around his shoulders, Ceyaxochitl’s temple was a long walk, and he’d never been in the very best of shape. His best brisk, businesslike walk soon devolved into a weary trudge, and by the time he made it into the temple complex and was shown to the receiving room where the Guardian awaited, his back and knees were loudly informing him that they’d had quite enough of that, thank you.

Ceyaxochitl bowed to him the precise degree necessary for politeness and no more. He’d once saved her life from Tezcatlipoca’s shade, but that didn’t make them friends. At least she motioned him to a seat on the mat. “Acatl.”

“Ceyaxochitl.” He bowed, just as politely, and let his legs fold.

She sniffed, looking him up and down critically. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s good to see you.”

“...Mm.” He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. A skinny death priest, no longer quite so young as he’d been when they’d met. No longer quite so removed from the world, either. His skin still tingled with the memory of Teomitl’s arms around him. Battling back a swell of nerves, he asked, “Why have you called me here?”

And now she was frowning, never a good sign. “The magistrate’s favorite daughter vanished yesterday along with her boat. We haven’t found the boat or her body.”

“Are you sure she didn’t just...leave?” It was known to happen. Sometimes people simply had enough. He’d dealt with a missing-person case like that before; a wealthy merchant’s wife had packed her things and rowed to Texcoco without another word, and when he’d finally tracked her husband down he’d seen why immediately. He could easily picture a young maiden doing the same.

Ceyaxochitl shook her head firmly. “She was due to be married next week. By all accounts, she’s terribly in love with her intended. She wouldn’t have left him.”

He bit his lip, thinking. “Perhaps she simply drowned.” A shame, of course, but not his department.

“Perhaps. I would consider it a favor if you looked into it anyway.”

Ceyaxochitl owing him a favor was a powerful thing. Still, he was wary. “...And what do you expect me to do?”

“Well.” Ceyaxochitl’s eyes narrowed. “She was fond of wearing jewelry like that bracelet you have on. And you live by the shore, don’t you? Did it wash up somewhere?”

No. No, Teomitl wouldn’t. Tlanchana are...they don’t think like humans, but surely he wouldn’t. Surely he knows the value of a life to the gods. He swallowed roughly, barely able to force the words out. “...It was a gift.”

But his heart was turning to ice in his chest.

&

Afterwards, he wasn’t sure how he made it home. His memories of the journey were a blur, and it wasn’t until he reached his courtyard that he remembered he hadn’t finished cleaning the place. Another thing he’d have to deal with, but it would probably let him put off the confrontation with Teomitl he knew he was going to happen. It still didn’t seem real. Teomitl had smiled with him, held his hand, treated him like a man. He wouldn’t have murdered someone for jewels.

He didn’t smell blood or death anymore, but stepping into his newly spotless courtyard was still a surprise. Evidently Teomitl hadn’t been content with guarding the area and had decided to finish cleaning up after his brother’s little intimidation spree; though the ground was mostly mud from his efforts, he’d nevertheless washed away all the blood. He’d even, Acatl saw, finished removing the birds from the tree he was currently sprawled under, resting his head in one lazy loop of his tail with his eyes closed.

Admittedly, a napping Teomitl was a lovely picture, but he was in no frame of mind to appreciate it. He strode over, nudging the nearest coil of scales with his foot. “Teomitl!”

Teomitl jolted awake, blinking up at him in rapidly-clearing confusion. “Acatl-tzin, you’re back!” The first hint of a smile faded as he took in Acatl’s stony expression. “...Did something happen? Are you alright?”

He took a deep breath, settling one hand on the hilt of his knife. It gave him back some of his resolve. “Teomitl. This bracelet...”

Teomitl rose up, frowning from Acatl’s face to the bracelet he’d never taken off. “Yes?”

“Did you...” Duality preserve him, he almost couldn’t say it. He almost couldn’t think it. But he had to know. He took another breath, forced himself to meet Teomitl’s eyes, and continued, “Did you kill a woman for this?”

The reaction was immediate. Teomitl jolted backward, rearing up on his coils until he towered over Acatl, but Acatl didn’t have time to feel more than a flash of fear before he sank back down, staring wide-eyed at him. “What?! No!” He growled, fangs briefly bared. “I am no coward, to hunt such prey.”

Acatl dropped his gaze. The lump in his throat slowly started to recede. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I believe you, I just...I had to know.”

Teomitl tilted his head like an inquisitive ahuitzotl. “Why?”

On one hand, nobody had told him his current case was supposed to be a secret. On the other hand, it had been so very, very long since he’d worked alongside anyone else that even mentioning it felt strange. Words warred within him, but what finally came out was, “A woman vanished yesterday, wearing jewels like this.” You say it wasn’t you. I’ve chosen to believe you. But please...gods, please...

Teomitl shook his head, frowning in a way that sent a pang through his heart. “...I found it in the lake. I can take you to the spot, but I didn’t see anything but weeds and branches. Then again, I’m no detective like you.”

He made a decision. “I’ll get a boat from the temple and meet you back here. You can show me where you found it.”

It meant another trek through the city—his feet were going to be exceptionally unhappy with him later—but when he pulled the boat up alongside his house he had the pleasure of seeing Teomitl’s grin break the water’s surface before submerging again, boat rocking slightly in his wake. They didn’t speak as Acatl rowed, following the sinuous line of Teomitl’s progress through the water as best he could. Even with Teomitl obviously swimming slowly for Acatl’s benefit, he had to push himself to keep up. Here, the lake was fairly shallow and choked with reeds and other vegetation, the sort that was easy to snare a boat in. He wondered if that was what had happened to her.

At least it hadn’t rained recently, he thought. She wouldn’t have died the way his father did, trapped in the mud of a flooded canal. She’d been spared that.

Teomitl’s voice pulled him out of his reverie before he could spiral down into his own failure. “Here,” he said, lifting himself out of the water to point at a tree-shaded patch of tangled greenery. “It was in these weeds.”

Carefully, he steered the boat closer for a better look. The weeds were thick here, providing shelter for fish and a death trap to everything else, but within the dense leaves he spotted something else, something crisp and pale and manmade. Still careful, he used the tip of his oar to lift it up and grimaced. While it hadn’t been there for long—it wasn’t enmeshed deeply enough for that—there was no mistaking the bundle of reeds for anything else. “...That is definitely part of a boat.”

“...Tlaloc’s fangs,” Teomitl muttered.

“Indeed.” And now that he was looking, he could see more; while there weren’t enough scattered chunks to make an entire boat and it was therefore unlikely she’d run aground in this precise spot, the lake’s currents had nonetheless pushed most of the debris into the weeds. He squinted, trying to figure out if that brown thing was a piece of waterlogged wood or a human limb.  

Teomitl swam in, skirting the edge of the overgrowth. He seemed reluctant to enter it, but Acatl supposed being entangled in pondweed wasn’t fun even if you could breathe underwater. After a moment, he muttered, “I didn’t see any human parts, but...well, sometimes ahuitzotls move their leftovers into caches for later...”

“...Ah.” There were times he cursed his imagination.

Teomitl flashed him a quick, brilliant grin. “I’ll check!” His dive sent a shimmering arc of water droplets into the air, along with an unnecessarily extravagant flick of his tail.

And so Acatl was left to wait. He stowed the oar and finally, finally sat down in the boat, groaning out loud in sheer relief as his muscles relaxed from the effort of holding himself upright for the entire morning. Any priest learned to endure pain and discomfort without complaint, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Especially on an empty stomach, which chose that moment to grumble audibly. Hm. He really should have gotten something to eat on the way back from the temple, but at the time it hadn’t occurred to him. He’d been too distracted with thoughts of gold and dead women and Teomitl.

Teomitl, who had cleaned his courtyard for him. The memory brought a tinge of heat to his face. And I never even thanked him.

Water slapped against the woven hull, and he looked down. In the dark water, a dark shape swam. Teomitl...?

No. There were two. Then three. Then four.

“Teo—!”

The boat lurched violently, and the ahuitzotls yanked him under. He barely had the presence of mind to clamp his mouth shut and fling a hand up to protect his eyes; there was no time at all for him to fill his lungs with air before he sank into the water, flailing amidst a morass of furry, sharp-clawed bodies and far too many horrible grasping hands. Claws scrabbled at his eyes and he frantically twisted his head out of the way, but more of them caught in his hair and cloak.

My knives. I have to reach my knives. But if he lowered his hands, they would tear at his face and the soft unprotected skin of his belly; already he felt lines of fire etched into his flesh and knew he was bleeding. And he couldn’t breathe.

One of them caught his forearm in its jaws. The pain was too much; instinctively he opened his mouth to scream, and precious air rushed out.

A sound like a hawk’s screech rang through the water, and the sensation of teeth in his arm vanished. Water churned around him, and he flailed in the direction of what he dearly hoped was the surface. The impact of flesh on flesh rippled through the water, but it wasn’t his and therefore, for the moment, unimportant. Black spots swam in front of his vision, and his limbs moved like he was swimming through tar. He was only vaguely conscious of the battle going on around him. I can’t. I can’t.

A pair of brutally strong arms grabbed him from behind, pressing him back against a lean chest. He struggled, but it was no use; he was not so much drawn as flung towards sunlight, breaking the surface with a choked-off gasp and coughing for breath until his ribs screamed. Dimly he was aware of those arms squeezing him tight, of the loose coil of a muscular scaled tail supporting his legs while Teomitl ran quick claws over his wounds. It felt like an eternity before his breathing eased and he went limp, floating in Teomitl’s coils.

Teomitl’s voice cracked. “Acatl?”

Right. That was his name. There were long scratches on his cheeks, bloody rents along his arms and chest, and what felt like one single enormous bruise over most of his right leg, but he was alive. He was alive, and Teomitl was holding him like he was made of quetzal feathers. “I’m alright,” he panted, “just—mmph!”

Yesterday, he’d thought his first kiss would be a slow, sweet thing. He was wrong. Teomitl’s mouth on him was rough and wet and almost biting; he was clearly trying to be careful with his fangs, but just as clearly wasn’t doing a very good job. Their mouths, mingled, tasted of blood and lake water, and when Acatl’s lips parted in surprise he tasted salt as well. The wounds on his cheeks stung, but he barely noticed. Far more worthy of his attention was the way Teomitl’s fingers wound through the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him in place as a remarkably dexterous tongue slid in. “Mmm...” Oh, that was good. That was very good.

And then Teomitl wrenched backwards, breaking the kiss with a gasp. Acatl’s eyes flew open to meet his, slit pupils dilated so far they were very nearly round. He was trembling, gills fluttering rapidly as he stammered, “...Sorry. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry!”

“You...” But he couldn’t figure out how to finish the sentence. His vows had cracked like an egg, and the merest touch would shatter them, but he was wounded and still floating in what upon further examination was a patch of bloody water containing several dead ahuitzotls and an unknowable number of lake insects attracted by the free food. His injuries throbbed. He still had a case to solve. And Duality curse me, but I want him to kiss me until I forget all of that.

Another kiss did not seem forthcoming. Seeing that he could float on his own, Teomitl gently disentangled himself and muttered, “I found her. Er, most of her. She’s hidden pretty deep. I’ll bring her up for you—can you get back in the boat?”

He couldn’t. Teomitl had to lift him in. But at least the boat was in one piece, and he’d had the forethought to bring a net and a large blanket, so getting the corpse into it with him wasn’t a difficult prospect. A good thing, too, because Teomitl refused to let him help. “You’re hurt,” he said, with a pointed glare at Acatl’s freely-bleeding wounds and a follow-up mutter of, “And I know whose fault it is, too.”

That snapped him out of the dull fog of pain. “Hm?”

Teomitl shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll tow you to back to Coyoacan.”

&

The magistrate was pale and shaken, but he still managed to meet Acatl’s eyes. “Thank you, Acatl-tzin. For...for bringing her home.”

Teomitl had indeed found most of the magistrate’s daughter; the ahuitzotls had taken her eyes, her fingernails, and large chunks of her abdomen, and sitting in the boat with her corpse wrapped in a blanket had not been pleasant. At least Acatl hadn’t had to carry her, a dicey prospect with his injuries. When he’d made it to shore, the guards had taken care of that while the healers swore at his wounds, cleaned them with ointment that stung like a thousand wasps, and then cleaned them again as he’d told them what had attacked him. They still burned, and he was still weak, but at least the bleeding had stopped. He shifted from foot to foot, glad that the waning afternoon light hid his expression. He didn’t deserve thanks for doing his job.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured anyway. It was what you said.

The man shook his head decisively. “No. This way—we’ll be able to send her to her rest properly. Was it the ahuitzotls?”

He nodded, trying not to remember the sensation of claws reaching for his eyes. This is the second time Teomitl’s saved my life. If it hadn’t been for him...

Gods, he hadn’t even been armed. He’d slain two ahuitzotls with his bare hands. The blood had mostly rinsed off in the water, but it had still clung stubbornly under Teomitl’s claws, and still all Acatl could think about was the way they’d tangled in his hair.

The magistrate growled. “I’m going to have words with the priests of Tlaloc, I see. But you don’t have to concern yourself with that. Here.” He motioned one of his slaves forward, who bowed low to present a bundle of gold-filled quills.

He blinked at the riches. “My lord, you don’t have to..”

“Take it.”

He took it. It would buy food, and he was starting to realize he was ravenous.

Dinner—lunch? Breakfast?—his first meal of the day, at any rate, took the form of two enthusiastically spiced tamales from the nearest street vendor, which he ate as he trudged back home. Teomitl had vanished as soon as they’d reached the city, before any humans could spot him; he hadn’t said so much as a word to Acatl since settling him back in the boat. The memory of his stricken face almost ruined Acatl’s appetite.

I still can’t believe he kissed me. He’d taken vows of chastity. Up until now, they’d rested lightly on him. If he does it again...Duality, I want him to do it again. Soon. His lips tingled, and not just from the heat of the chilies. I need to see him.

But when he returned home, it was to a completely empty courtyard. He stumbled to the edge of the water and looked down; nothing. Not even a fish. He cleared his throat. “Teomitl?” It came out much quieter than he wanted, and even as he said it he knew it was a lost cause. He’s avoiding me. He has some nerve, after doing a thing like that!

He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath—oh, his ribs hurt—and tried again. “Teomitl!”

No answer.

“Teomitl!”

His own voice echoed across the water. There was still no answer. He wasn’t fool enough to dangle his feet in the muddy lake, but he nevertheless sat down as close to it as he dared, feeling the pain of his wounds and a dull ache in his chest he knew he couldn’t blame on the attack. Teomitl either wasn’t within earshot or—more likely—simply wasn’t coming. The reaction Acatl had given him hadn’t been what he was hoping for, and he’d decided it wasn’t worth it. Acatl swallowed once, twice, but the lump in his throat remained.

He sat there until night fell. Nothing happened. Eventually, sick at heart, he went to bed. Maybe he’d get a few hours’ sleep.

The mat was cold and hard under him. It was always cold and hard, but tonight it felt worse. No matter how he tossed and turned, he couldn’t get comfortable. Laying on his stomach hurt. Laying on his back hurt and trapped the too-hot weight of his hair underneath him until he sat up to shift it aside. The night air was just cool enough that he wished for a blanket. Teomitl’s arms around him had been so incredibly warm.

As the distant conchs cried midnight, he rose, tied his cloak, and went out into the courtyard again. The lake was as still as an obsidian mirror. It had been a night like this when he’d met Teomitl for the first time, hadn’t it? When he’d been bone-tired and half delirious with it, shambling like a dead soul, and he’d opened his mouth and...

That was right. He’d been singing. He’d been singing, and Teomitl had called him pretty, had called his voice beautiful. The memory made him blush hard. At least in Teomitl’s eyes, it hadn’t been empty flattery. He knew that now.

Maybe it would work again.

“Sleep—” His voice cracked. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. He could try again. “Sleep, my precious silver, my precious jade, sleep...”

There was a splash. He opened his eyes, hoping.

Moonlight caught the jade-green shine of eyes he knew were dark, so wonderfully dark, in daylight. His mouth went dry. For a moment, he couldn’t speak.

And then he caught the curve of a shy smile, the faint flash of white teeth, and it gave him back his voice. “...Teomitl,” he croaked.

Teomitl made a soft noise in his throat, setting his hands at the edge of the courtyard’s tiles. There was something strange about them, and about his neck, but the vulnerable, hopeful look on his face was so much more captivating. “Acatl-tzin. Can I...?”

“Yes.” He didn’t know what he was agreeing to, but it didn’t matter. He’d say yes to whatever Teomitl wanted if it meant he’d look at him like that.

Muscles flexed as Teomitl heaved himself up out of the water. And up. And...oh. Oh.

Now he realized what was so different about him. Where his waist had tapered smoothly from something approximating hips into that long, powerful tail like carved jade set in gold, now the expanse of brown skin continued unabated. Acatl’s private fantasies had been right about the narrow hips and the long, lean, muscular legs, but somehow he hadn’t quite imagined the precise curve of his ass or the way water streamed down his naked body in the moonlight. His...very naked body.

“Gods,” he choked out. He’d really lost too much blood today to be dealing with this.

Teomitl crouched on his heels, which at least partially shielded him from Acatl’s eyes. “Impressed?” And there was that confident, sunny grin he loved, no less devastating for the bluntness of human teeth.

Very. He swallowed roughly, realizing belatedly that Teomitl was shivering; the chill of the night air must be uncomfortable on soaking-wet skin. Without a second thought, he undid his cloak and held it out. “Dry yourself. You’ll catch cold.”

Teomitl sniffed. “Tlanchana don’t get cold.” But he took it and toweled himself off anyway, and by the time he’d wrapped himself in it like a tamale Acatl’s pulse had returned to something very near normal.

“How...?” He gestured at Teomitl’s legs, careful not to look directly at them. A man had some limits.

Teomitl’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. There was something cold and sharp in it, his gaze flat where Acatl would have expected gleeful pride. “Chalchiuhtlicue was generous. And I lead my war band now.”

He swallowed. “...Then...your brother...”

“No longer a problem.”

“Ah. Well.” He dropped his gaze to his feet, taking some comfort in the sensation of solid ground under his bare toes. He had no problem remembering Teomitl’s angry mutterings of a few hours before, his certainty on who had sent the ahuitzotls after them. He did that for me. Whatever he did...that was to protect me. Partly he thought he should be horrified; Tizoc was Teomitl’s brother, after all. But instead all he felt was a bone-deep relief. His working life wasn’t any less dangerous, but at least he’d be safe from that.

Teomitl drew in a long breath, rising to his feet like a newborn fawn. Acatl made an abortive motion towards him but pulled back when he realized the man had it handled, even though his legs and voice shook when he met Acatl’s gaze. “I’m here now, anyway.”

Helpless to resist, he took a step forward. “So you are.” If he reached out—if he was bold enough—they could touch. He didn’t think he was bold enough. Not yet.

Even in the moonlight he could see Teomitl flush. “I thought...you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

It struck him to the heart, and all his resistance crumbled and fell away like dust. Oh, Teomitl. Oh, love. “...I will always want to see you. Come here.”

Teomitl jolted, eyes going wide; then, so hesitant it broke Acatl’s heart, he stepped forward. Scant inches separated them now. “Oh,” he said softly And then he reached out, laying gentle fingers on Acatl’s cheek a hairsbreadth away from the still-vivid scratches. “Acatl-tzin, can I...?”

Acatl trembled. This is it. There’s no going back from this. “Yes,” he whispered.

Their mouths met, and if Acatl’s expectations for his first kiss had been misplaced, his second was just as he’d hoped in his sweetest dreams. He all but melted into Teomitl’s arms, unable to bite back the noise that escaped him when a hand slid into his hair. His own settled at Teomitl’s hips, just where the scales would start; the skin there was deliciously smooth, stretched over lean muscle, and when he dug his fingers in Teomitl hummed in pleasure. It was intoxicating. A little clumsily, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Teomitl broke the kiss only to breathe, “Mmh...” and the way he looked up at him—lashes fluttering, lips hazily parted—was entirely irresistible. Acatl had to kiss him again. This time it was hungrier, deeper, and for a dizzy moment Acatl didn’t want to stop. Teomitl was warm and still mostly, gloriously naked in his arms, and his mat wasn’t far. They didn’t have to stop.

...Except, apparently, they did. As he drew away for air and to wonder how it was that being very enthusiastically kissed—a lovely but undeniably wet activity—had somehow managed to make his mouth drier, he gave Teomitl’s hip a squeeze and murmured, “I’ll show you around the city tomorrow.” Not hand-in-hand, but they would be close. Teomitl would wear his spare clothes and walk the streets as a man, and Acatl would show him all the wonders of Coyoacan.

“Tomorrow. But until then...I just want to do this.” Teomitl’s eyes gleamed as he stroked down Acatl’s spine, the faint sting of nails enough to make Acatl shiver. “And besides, you should rest with your injuries, shouldn’t you? Maybe we can postpone the sightseeing.”

His blood was still pounding in his veins, and all his aches seemed very, very far away. He felt a wry smile tug at his lips. “Is that what you have in mind? Resting?”

“Well.” Teomitl grinned at him. “Mostly.”

Close enough, Acatl decided, and tugged him back in.

[markoftheasphodel]

A Butterfly in Winter: Nagamas 2020 gift for charisuuuu

Oifey/Fee post-canon in Chalphy, an average day of domesticity

(A/N: I was really touched to get the chance to work on this pairing!)

A flash of white through the window caught Fee’s attention as she was sipping tea, and her mind leapt at once to “snow!” She dashed to the sitting-room window and unlatched it— for the windows in Chalphy’s castle were designed to open to let in cool night air— and peered out. The mild air, fragrant with damp earth and greenery, should’ve been a clue that there wasn’t any snow to be found; Fee craned her head until she saw it— a butterfly, pure white with a black dot on each forewing, browsing along the hedges of the knot garden.

It was the homely butterfly known in Silesse as the “cabbage pest” but to see it in flight not two weeks past Mid-Winter’s day caused Fee’s heart to leap. She yearned to chase it, to see if it might alight on her finger. Instead, she smiled until it was out of sight, shut and latched the window, and returned to her tea. Alongside her plate of butter-cake topped with candied fruit was a list of things the Duchess of Chalphy needed to check on by the end of the day, and “chasing butterflies” wasn’t on there. Fee sipped the cooling tea while running down the list.

Select merchant for space in castle yard recently vacated by soothsayer

Find out why tapestry repairs in Great Hall are taking so long

Draft menu for upcoming visit of Duke Febail 

Bridge repair dispute with Miletos— ask King Seliph to make them pay up???

Tax relief petitions from the northern borderlands

Explain to cook how to make moss jelly correctly

It was a very lengthy list. Fee rearranged it somewhat with arrows and squiggles. The moss jelly she could take care of promptly. The issue with the tax petitioners, well…

The daughter of Queen Erinys knew how to rule, and she’d get it done. Once Fee finished her tea, cake, and list, she went to the garden… with a purpose.

-x-

The small plot of Silessian moss looked better than it had through the autumn; the first frost arrived just after Mid-Winter’s Day, and the moss seemed more green and lush for it. Fee ran her fingers over it and crumbled up a bit. It smelled like home. There was enough now to safely harvest some for jelly and give some as a special treat for Annand. 

It didn’t feel like winter to Fee as she stood there, a sprig of moss in between her fingers. The sky was a lattice of dull blue and pale gray, the air in her mouth was gentle and the ground under her feet bedewed but not frozen. But there was sunlight here, when in Silesse it’d be dark already by this hour. There was sunlight, and pale-green shoots poking through the soil, and a white butterfly in the lavender hedge.

Chalphy in winter wants us to heal, Fee thought to herself. It’s healing, and so are we.

-x-

“I brought you a treat!” 

Fee didn’t have to force the cheer in her voice as she came upon Oifey in his study; she could see from behind that his shoulders were relaxed, and when he turned in his chair to greet her, there was no harsh line between his brows as there’d so often been during the war. And there was something else, too…

“You’ve shaved it! I thought you were planning to keep it through the winter.”

Fee set down the quivering dish of moss jelly and reached out to brush her fingers against Oifey’s lip. The skin was smooth and soft. 

“It seemed a relic of the war, and harsher winters,” he replied. “No need for it here.”

“Not at all,” Fee agreed. Supposedly Oifey looked shockingly like the late Lord Sigurd whenever he shaved, but Fee didn’t know Sigurd, had scarcely seen a competent portrait of the Holy Knight, and therefore didn’t much care. All she knew was that when Oifey did dispense with that fierce mustache he looked strangely gentle, less a man of war than a lover of books.

(And also he looked a good ten years younger without it; Fee had noticed a strand of silver in his mustache just in the last few months.) 

“Try this,” she said then, offering up a bit of jelly on the spoon. She didn’t need to say it was special; Oifey would be able to tell from the way she’d plated it on a dish from their wedding service, used the spoon with the pearl bowl and silver handle that had the initials “EC” for “Ethlyn Chalphy” worked into its design. Something new, something old…

“Pegasus moss?” Oifey’s half-closed eyes fluttered wide open.  “I haven’t tasted that in… well, a while.”

No need to belabor just how long.

“I’ve been working on a little project in the garden,” said Fee as she served up more of it. “Ced sent me a bit of it when he got back to Silesse and I managed to keep it alive through the summer. It’s doing well now.”

“Almost a miracle,” said Oifey.

“There’s no end of miracles. I saw a butterfly in the lavender today.” Fee let Oifey take the bowl for himself to finish the jelly. She kissed him on the back of the head, right on the part of his hair. Then her eyes scanned his desk, to see how far he’d gotten in the stack of memoranda she’d prepared. “In Silesse they spend months in hiding, sleeping in cocoons or under the bark of trees. Chalphy is so pretty in winter, in its own way.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve worried you might find it drab, with no pristine snows, no curtains of light in the sky.”

“It’s a subtle kind of pretty, but it’s alive. That’s the best kind of pretty.”

There was a hint of moss jelly between them as they kissed.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” said Fee, and she collected the dish and closed the study door after glancing at the hearth to make sure it was well-stocked.

And then Fee, daughter of Erinys and Duchess of Chalphy, smiled again to herself, knowing full well she was the one going to work, juggling the duties of Chalphy like a jester with half-a-dozen balls in the air, so that she might present her lord with a tidy stack of memoranda tied up with a bright ribbon, or with a plate of fortifying jelly made to look like a frivolous sweet.

People thought she was the butterfly, a bright delicate thing to make Chalphy more cheerful after so many hard years. Fee knew in her soul she could be as the sun itself, coaxing a slumbering butterfly into the light and the air even in the nadir of winter. And a living winter, with its grays and browns and muted blues, was beautiful.

[pulaasul]

The Magic Word and the Triwizard Tournament

Billy covers the entirety of the Triwizard Tournament while he, as Captain Marvel, investigates the mystery behind Harry's inclusion into the said tournament.

Ao3 I FFN

---------

"Very Good Colin."

Colin preened at the praise as he and Harry got inside an empty classroom, desks pushed aside, leaving a big space in the middle apart from the velvet covered black board facing five velvet desks and chairs.

"I try to Mr. Batson sir."

Ludo Bagman stood at one end of the black board talking to a witch in green while Durmstrang's champion sat at the classroom's corner, silent as the grave. Beaxbaton's champion, Fleur Delacour was animatedly talking with Hogwarts's other champion, Cedric Diggory. In another corner, Colin was animatedly discussing things with William Batson, the writer from the Mudblood Magazine.

"Champion number four!" Bagman declared, gaining everyone's attention. "Come on closer Harry, we're here for two things, publicity and the wand weighing ceremony."

"Wand weighing?" Harry questioned.

"Wands are a wizard's or witch's most important tool, is it not?" Bagman grinned. "We're just checking if they're all fully functional," He assured. "The expert's with Headmaster Dumbledore, they will be here soon."

"Not going to introduce me Ludo?" The witch in green outfit prompted.

Viktor, interested at what was going on, stood behind Cedric and Fleur.

"Sorry, this is Rita Skeeter." Bagman introduced.

"I am Rita Skeeter, I write for the Daily Prophet." Skeeter pushed Bagman a little sideways and approached the three champions. "You probably heard of it." She smiled as she shook each champion's hand. "It's you we don't know." She approached the Potter, and dragged him towards the other three champions. "You're the juicy news."

Harry couldn't help but wince at the remark. He's been the 'juicy news' since he was a year old, supposedly killing Voldemort. He'd rather have someone else take the spotlight, someone have eternal glory, thank you very much.

"What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheek?" Skeeter continued her spiel as she brushed Fleur's cheeks. "What mysteries do the muscles mask?" She squeezed Cedric's and Viktor's respective shoulders. "Does courage lie beneath those curls?" She ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "In short, what makes a champion tick? Me myself and I want to know, not to mention my rabid readers." She chuckled.

"That's all well and good Rita, but would you respect our champions' personal spaces?" William smiled. "Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter we meet again."

"Hello Mr. Batson." Cedric and Harry greeted.

"Because you're an 'oh so established news magazine'." Rita growled.

"We may have struggled for a few months Rita, but our article about Pettigrew and the subsequent articles has since turned out to be such a big hit that we had to reprint for more." William grinned at the witch. "But alas, today's not about us, it's about them." William gestured at the champions.

"For our lovely guests, I am William Joseph Batson, writer and editor-in-chief of the Mudblood." William smiled as he noticed the Bulgarian and Frenchwoman's narrowed eyes. "Yes, I am quite aware that it's a word not used in polite society." He assured the two champions. "However, it is my firm belief that I can turn something bad into something good, just like how we can make stones into a flock of birds."

"I'd like you four to meet my Photographer for this article and the subsequent articles for the Triwizard Tournament, Mr. Colin Creevey."

"You're having a child do an adult's work?"

"A professional starts somewhere Rita, why not have Mr. Creevey start as early as now."

"I really thank you for this opportunity Mr. Batson." Colin expressed his gratitude then flashed a picture of his mentor.

"Please Colin, you can call me William like we agreed to last year." The man simply ruffled Colin's hairs. "The Headmaster is already aware of this, the Triwizard Tournament won't be my article, it'll be nephew's, he's just using the loo."

"And where would you be?" Rita challenged.

"There are a lot of events happening in the Wizarding World Rita, hence we delegate." William smiled. "In any case, my nephew's at the same age as Mr. Diggory, Colin I trust that you take care of my nephew."

"You can count on me William."

"I'll be off now." William exited the room.

Rita was speechless at the man's audacity, trivializing the resurrection of a long time event such as the Triwizard tournament.

Well his loss.

A moment later, a boy entered the classroom, wearing muggle clothes to boot.

"Billy Batson at your service." The boy introduced himself with a salute.

Harry couldn't help himself but snort at the boy's antics. He could tell that he was mocking a lot of shows on the telly.

"Hey Billy, your uncle paired us up again."

"Holy Moley! That true Colin? Neat!"

"Batson sends a child to do his job?" Rita exclaimed. "How unprofessional can he be?!" She stomped her way towards the newcomer. "Aren't you supposed to be in a school young man?"

"Actually no Ms. Skeeter." Billy replied politely. "Uncle William is home schooling me using the things he learned at Ilvermorny, besides I'm already of age, hardly a child don't you think?"

"You're American? He attended Ilvermorny?"

"Born and raised." Billy shrugged. "Enough about me, this day isn't about me, it's about them." He gestured to the champions.

"If you don't mind Ludo, I'd start my interviews with the youngest champion." Rita humphed before she dragged Harry away from the group.

"If you don't mind Mr. Diggory." Billy smiled.

"Sure." Cedric shrugged.

---------

It was right after dinner that the four champions convened with Colin and Billy. The Creevey just got permission to be out past curfew for a magazine interview.

"Did you guys bring with you your garbs for the tournament?" Billy greeted the champions.

"Oui." Fleur frowned. "I still don't know why we need to bring our swimwear."

"Oh that's because we wanted to use stock photos of you in all your possible outfits during the tournament." Billy handed the champions a piece of parchment. "Historically speaking, the Triwizard Tournament features tasks from three of the four elements: air, water, earth and fire."

"I get it!" Colin exclaimed. "Since there's water involved, you think they'd have to be in a swimwear at some point."

"Correct Colin!" Billy grinned. "I would have given points for that answer." He chuckled.

"Vhat avut the dress roves?" Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing, just wanted to take a picture of the champions in dress robes." Billy shrugged.

"In any case, we'll have your pictures taken now, in lieu of everyone's curfew, which has long passed, my uncle has already talked to the Headmaster and Heads of Houses and has exempted you from the curfew." Billy took out a muggle pen and notepad. "So is Colin actually, but unlike you four, he's not a champion, so he needs to be back into the dorms after taking your pictures."

With everything out of the way, Colin took everyone's pictures with the all the outfits they brought. From their normal athletic wears to their formal garbs. He took the champions photographs individually and as a group.

Harry was about to change back into his Hogwarts's robes when Colin noticed a beetle on the Potter's hair.

"Hey Harry, you have a beetle on your hair."

"Really?!" Billy groaned.

Billy faced the four champions, at Cedric specifically.

"Mr. Diggory, my uncle told me that you are adept in revealing charms, able to undo someone's transfiguration spell, like those of the animagi."

"I won't say 'good' but Mr. Batson did have me use one on the rat that turned out to be Peter Pettigrew." Cedric humbly replied.

"Could you please use one on that flying beetle?" Billy pointed at the beetle that was flying away from the group.

"Revelio."

Soon enough, the beetle turned into Rita Skeeter, writer for the Daily Prophet.

"Holy Moley! William was right, he told me you'd stoop this low Ms. Skeeter, but wow."

"What my rabid readers need are juicy news, not like a child knows about that."

"True, William always told me that we don't really care about the so-called 'juicy news' Ms. Skeeter, we just care about the truth, and apparently you don't."

"This isn't over Batson!" Rita growled as she stomped inside the castle.

"Glad you noticed that Colin before the interview could get started." Billy praised. "That's how the one and only Rita Skeeter gets her scoops, through gossip and exaggerations."

"Just trying to do my best Billy." Colin grinned. "I still can't believe Mr. Batson offered me a spot on his news magazine."

"You have yet to process that? Holy Moley! It's been months!" Billy chuckled. "In any case, there aren't many kids your age able to develop moving pictures Colin," He ruffled the younger boy's hair. "My uncle always say, everyone starts somewhere, it just so happen you started early with us."

Colin preened at the praise, he's been doing that lately. He's been doing a lot of that whenever praises go his way.

Colin wasn't blind to all the things about him. He knows that everyone considers him an annoyance, even his hero, Harry Potter, even his younger brother, Dennis. It hurt sometimes but he still persevered and that got him where he was, as the Mudblood's intern photographer.

"It seems your Head of House has come to collect you." Billy pointed at the approaching Professor Mcgonagall.

After exchanging a few goodbyes, Colin went with Gryffindor's head of house and retired to bed, leaving the Triwizard champions with Billy.

"How'd Colin get in the Mudblood?" Harry was confused.

"Professor Mcgonagall endorsed him actually." Billy admitted. "She admitted to being annoyed at him but she also knew that it was one talent that can be developed."

"Good for him." Harry smiled.

"In any case, let's start with the group interview."

Everyone sat on the ground, waiting for the questions.

"What did you feel when it was revealed that there were four champions?" Billy questioned the four champions.

"Cheated." Cedric, Fleur and Viktor immediately answered.

Harry looked down, unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Care to elaborate?

"'ogwarts 'aving two champions, is most injust!" Fleur declared.

"I agree!" Viktor nodded. "Headmaster Karkaroof vas very angry. Vhat I vant to know is vhy one of Hogvarts's champions feel cheated."

Everyone looked to Cedric, waiting for him to elaborate his answer.

"House Hufflepuff is stereotyped as an unremarkable house, not brave like Gryffindors, not ambitious like Slytherins, not even intelligent like Ravenclaws." Cedric began. "This was supposed to be a small step towards proving them wrong." He admitted.

"How very Hufflepuff of you, loyal to the core." Billy chuckled. "I guess, the Hufflepuffs' humble nature has its downsides."

"I guess it does." Cedric sighed.

"Although, make no mistake, there are a lot of successful Hufflepuffs." Billy grabbed two pieces of parchment from his pants and gave them to Cedric. "Theseus Scamander, the war hero, is a Hufflepuff, same with the author of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', Newton Scamander. Both brothers were also present during Grindelwald and Dumbledore's fated duel, assisting your current headmaster."

"Were they really?" Cedric asked.

"For both Hufflepuffs, actions speak louder than words." Billy smiled at Cedric's reaction. "Make no mistake Cedric, Hufflepuffs are in no way weak, dumb or lazy, the mere fact that a Hufflepuff is in the tournament is a testament of that."

Harry couldn't help but sink even lower at the words exchanged. He knew of the stereotypes the Hufflepuffs were receiving, even Hagrid said that they were an unremarkable bunch.

"What about you Harry?" Billy turned to the youngest Champion. "What did you feel?"

"Scared." Harry immediately answered.

"That's new, even moreso from a Gryffindor."

"I did not put my name into the cup." Harry immediately followed up. "I'm more inclined to believe that someone set me up to die in this stupid tournament, like Professor Moody suggested."

Fleur gasped at the declaration.

"Who would want to kill a little boy like you?" Fleur questioned.

"I don't know. All I know is that I did not put my name into that stupid cup."

The three other champions looked at the youngest boy in their group. The fear Harry was projecting was very genuine in their opinion.

There was also the issue of the age line, the Weasley twins' aging potion did not even work and immediately expelled the both of them from the age line's premises.

"Okay, moving on." Billy shook his head. "What does everyone expect the tournament to be like?"

All four champions were silent for a moment, mulling over the question.

"Dangerous." Viktor grinned.

"Challenging." Fleur chirped.

"A Spectacle." Cedric nodded.

"Life-threatening, but I have faith in Professor Dumbledore to keep everyone safe."

"You do know that this tournament is infamous for its death toll, right Harry?" Billy questioned.

"I know that, but Professor Dumbledore won't let anyone get killed." Harry nodded.

Billy shook his head at the boy's blind faith on one man, one elderly man.

"So to summarize, the four of you expects the tournament to be a dangerously life threatening spectacle that challenges its participants?"

"Nice way to summarize our answers." Cedric chuckled.

"Looks like this concludes the interview everyone." Billy declared. "Although my uncle wants you four to meet him here tomorrow after dinner, he said about leveling the playing field."

---------

"And another reason why I like the Mudblood over the Daily Prophet." Hermoine declared as she read through two newspapers.

"Really? Why?" Came Dennis's exuberant question.

"They focus on facts over exaggerations." Hermoine shrugged. "Look." She handed Colin both newspapers for everyone in Gryffindor to see.

----------

The Daily Prophet

Hogwarts's Triwizard Champion – Harry Potter.

By: Rita Skeeter

Harry Potter was the name that the Goblet of Fire revealed to be Hogwarts's Triwizard Champion, despite there being an age line drawn by the Headmaster himself, Albus Dumbleddore. He was asked how he managed to pass through the headmaster's age line, he's tight-lipped and said along the lines of secrets being his to keep.

There is no denying you-know-who's killer is a powerful wizard in his own right, and he continues to astound us with his attendance at Hogwarts's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and his participation in the historical Triwizard Tournament.

When asked about the tournament, this was all he had to say. "I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now...Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it...I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me..."

On a different note, Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.

Animagus Found Dead in Cell

By: Kikis Trecus

----------

The Mudblood

Four Champions, Triwizard Tournament.

By: Billy Batson

In a recent turn of events, the Goblet of Fire revealed four champions instead of three for the revival of the Triwizard Tournament: Durmstrang's Quidditch Sensation, Viktor Krum; Beaubaxton's Exceptional Witch, Fleur Delacour; Hogwarts's Golden Boy, Cedric Diggory; and The-Boy-Who-Lived himself, Harry Potter.

Investigations are still on going to determine who put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire. According to various sources, many underage Wizards and Witches attempted to pass through the age line, which Hogwarts's Headmaster drew around the goblet, through various means including aging potions and transfigurations, all of which were reportedly unsuccessful.

Harry Potter claims to not have put his name into the Goblet, making the reveal that he is school's second champion a surprise to him as anyone else's.

When the champions were asked how they felt about the reveal, all of them, felt cheated. Beaubaxton's and Durmstrang's respective champions felt that the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself cheated so that Hogwarts's can have two champions, the same sentiments were also aired by their respective School Heads.

Hogwarts's other champion, Hufflepuff's very own Cedric Diggory, claimed that this tournament may have been a stepping stone towards eliminating the stereotypes that plagued his house, with the addition of Gryffindor's champion, that all went up in smoke along with any chances to stop the stereotype that lingered.

Found Dead: Unlicensed Animagus

By: Frederick Fawcett

---------

"Are you sure-"

"-it's not-"

"-just your-"

"-bias showing?"

The Weasley twins questioned the Granger as they sat next to each other.

"I assure you, it's not my bias." Hermoine hugged. "Seriously, Harry and I have been on our separate ways a lot of times, I'm at the library, actually studying for my lessons and he's out there either playing Quidditch for the team or procrastinating."

"Someone's prickly." The twins chuckled in unison.

"This isn't fair." Colin whined. "I only told Billy that Harry and Hermoine were very close friends!"

"Exhibit number two." Hermoine gestured towards Colin with a raised eyebrow.

"The question is, how was she able to get these information?" Hermoine narrowed her eyes in concentration.

"She turns into a beetle." Colin calmed himself. "I saw Cedric use the revealing charm on a beetle that turned into her, Billy said that was how she got her scoops."

"She's an unregistered animagus?" Hermoine exclaimed.

----------

"I wasn't sure you four would come." William greeted the four champions.

"You said about leveling the playing field." Harry answered.

"Too true, Mr. Potter." William smiled. "I will admit this is for your benefit as you are two or three years younger than the other three champions." He admitted. "To make this a fair game, I'm offering to teach you some spells you may or may not know."

The four champions stood attentively at the offer, of course they were going to use this opportunity to learn new spells.

"Won't this be called cheating?" Cedric voiced his reservations.

"A Hufflepuff indeed," William chuckled. "No it's not, not only am I a third party, no allegiance to any of the participating schools, I am also offering this to all four of you." He smiled. "That and I would like for there to be no casualties in this tournament, known to have killed students much younger than you."

"What about Professor Dumbledore?"

"Your faith in your headmaster is commendable Mr. Potter, but I must say, he can't readily interfere with the tournament." William offered somberly. "You must understand that he's bound to the rules of the tournament as well."

Harry audibly gulped at William's words. If there was one thing that Harry was assured of in this tournament, is that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone killed in this tournament, but now? He felt like puking his insides.

"What I'm about to teach tonight is one you'll surely be glad to know." William smiled. "Tell me, Mr. Krum, Ms. Delacour and Mr. Diggory, do the three of you know what a bubble head charm is?"

Fleur nodded while Viktor and Cedric shook their heads.

"It will probably be taught as the year progresses, nevertheless, I will be teaching you four how." William smiled. "Point your wands towards your chins and repeat what I am doing."

William demonstrated the wand movement to the four champions and repeated them a few times for everyone to see.

"Now the incantation for this is, aera bulla."

"Aera bulla." The four simultaneously repeated after the news writer.

"Good." William nodded. "Now you four try casting the spell."

All four nodded as they pointed their wands on their respective chins and imitated William's wand movement from earlier.

"Aera bulla"

"Now to know if you correctly cast the spell." William levitated three dungbombs and dropped them near the champions.

The intended reaction came, apart from Fleur, all male champions immediately covered their nose in an attempt to stave off the putrid smell the dung bombs emanated.

"No smell Ms. Delacaour?"

"Non Monsiuer."

"C'est Magnifique!" William praised. "Boys, the only way to stop the smell is to cast the bubble-head charm correctly." He offered.

The boys immediately began their second attempt at casting the charm to varying levels of success. Sooner, the first of the boys to cast the charm correctly was Cedric, followed by Viktor and lastly, Harry.

"You four practice the charm and see if you can properly cast it in a short amount of time." William ordered. "Try using one whenever you use the bathroom… err… the loo."

-----------

The nightly training with William continued on until the week before the first task happened. They started with reviewing all the spells that the four were taught.

"Bubble-head charm." Cedric answered.

"Smoke-screen spell." Fleur added.

"Severing charm." Viktor stated.

"Mending charm." Harry nodded.

"Water making spell." Cedric smiled.

"Aqua Eructo." Harry grinned.

"Eradication spell." Viktor supplied.

"Shield charms." Fleur offered.

"Very good." William smiled. "I guess you four are taking this tournament seriously." He nodded. "This might be the last session we will have, and I will teach you one of the most difficult spells in Wizarding History, the Patronus charm."

"The Patronus charm?" Fleur tilted her head.

"The Patronus charm is known to defend against the Dementors and Lethifolds, both Dark creatures that have no other known defenses." William explained. "To cast it, you must think of the happiest memories of your life."

"Happiest memories?"

"Right!" Harry nodded. "Our happiest memories are what fuels our Patronus, they become our shields against Dementors and other Dark creatures, they will feed on the Patronus rather than feeding on the caster."

"Correct." William nodded. "Do you know the spell Harry?"

"Professor Lupin taught it to me when the Dementors were in the school." Harry admitted.

"Have you successfully conjured a corporeal patronus?"

Harry nodded.

"There are two types of Patronuses, Corporeal and Incorporeal." William stated. "An Incorporeal Patronus forms shapeless silver light from the wand and act as your personal shield from the aforementioned Dark Creatures, a Corporeal Patronus will be in a shape of an animal that best represents you."

"To successfully cast the Patronus charm. You can't use just any happy memory, it has to be the happiest memory." Harry added. "Or at least a memory that makes you very happy, at least that was what it took for me to actually cast an Incorporeal Patronus."

"Aren't the both of them just the same?" Cedric questioned.

"Maybe so, but for me they're different." Harry shrugged.

"Harry what do you say we cast the spell at the same time?"

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Two white silvery animals came out of their respective wands, one Stag and a Tiger. Both animals seemed to run around the five of them before running onto the lake, as if playing around.

"A stag." William observed.

"A bloody tiger." Harry exclaimed. "Your patronus is a bloody tiger."

"A Bengal Tiger." William corrected.

"It's still a bloody tiger!"

"Gee whiz! What can I say? I love me some tigers" William grinned.

The other three champions looked at the silvery animals in awe.

Soon, the two patronuses vanished.

"Now I want the three of you to close your eyes and think of your happiest memory to date, lose yourself into those memories before chanting the incantation 'Expecto Patronum'"

The three champions nodded as they each thought up of their happiest memory.

The first one to open their eyes and say the incantation was Viktor. He drew a circle above him and a small white silvery mist appeared at the tip of his wand.

The second one to open their eyes was Fleur. She cast the spell and flicked her wrist, but the results she got were the same as Viktor's.

When Cedric opened his eyes, he first took a deep breath before casting the spell and drew a circle in front of him simultaneously. A silver orb of light appeared at the tip of Cedric's wand before it too died down.

"How come Potter can produce his easily?" Viktor questioned.

"Oui!" Fleur nodded.

"It probably has to do with the fact that the Dementors that seemed to fancy him," Cedric offered. "He lost his Quidditch match against me because the Dementors attacked him and fell unconscious in the middle of the game." He crossed his arms. "For the record, I called for a rematch."

"I agree with my fellow Gryffindors, you won that match fair and square." Harry objected.

"Born out of necessity?" Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"Most likely." Cedric nodded.

"The patronus is one of the most difficult spells to cast," William explained. "Apart from Harry here, I never expected anyone to cast a patronus on their first try, no, I didn't expect anyone to be able to cast the spell on their first try."

"I didn't get it at first either." Harry offered. "I learned this spell like a year ago."

"It is still impressive how you succeeded in producing a full body patronus in a span of a year, most wizards and witches take years to produce one, if at all." William praised.

----------

Time passed and the other three champions barely got any progress in summoning an incorporeal patronus, let alone a corporeal one. None of them were deterred however, they tried countless times to at least summon an incorporeal one.

"Mr. Diggory, Ms. Delacour, Mr. Krum and Mr. Potter, gather around for a moment." William called. "There's another use to the patronus. They can send messages to anyone anywhere."

"Like a telephone?" Harry questioned.

"Telephone?" The other champions.

"A muggle device capable of sending voiced messages to a specific person or location." William explained. "Although, I think it's comparable to a radio."

"Radio?"

"Right, English." William sighed. "I meant wireless, the patronus is comparable to a wireless, minus the animals."

"You mean to say that we can send messages to any one through our patronus?" Harry asked, giddy at the new option for communication.

"I'd simmer that anticipation if I were you Harry, you still have the Trace on you." William shook his head. "But yes, that is indeed the case."

"Brilliant!"

"However, I'm not teaching you four that particular ability just yet, not until you three can produce a corporeal patronus of your own." William stated. "You three are getting the hang of it, you just need to push through." He encouraged. "As for you Harry, I want you to practice that spell without shouting your heart out."

Harry had the decency to blush at the observation.

"Before we end this session, I am telling you of a word that may or may not be of use to you." William used his wand to write in the air.

The letters S, H, A, Z, A, and M appeared.

"Read this word." William instructed.

"Shazam?"

"With more conviction."

"Shazam!"

Suddenly lightning flashed from the sky as thunder roared.

"You may speak that word if you feel like your life is in danger." William stated.

"It's not a spell?" Cedric questioned.

"No it's not, think of it as a Taboo." William shook his head. "Once you utter that word, something or someone will help you in your time of need. It's like a call for help, only it won't be as obvious as shouting 'help me'." He chuckled.

"Why are you telling us this Monsieur Batson?" Fleur questioned.

"The entire World has lost a lot of people Ms. Delacour from the many wars the muggles and the wizards and witches have staged. Grindelwald's war alone cost the lives of many muggles and magical people be it adult or child." He sighed. "I am simply avoiding the worst case scenario."

----------

The tournament continued as scheduled. The first task was against dragons. Cedric was about to be burned by the dragon's fire when he expelled a pressurized jet of water from his wand, just enough for him to escape.

Vikor managed to save the other dragon eggs that would've been squashed by the dragon's stomps by firing off a shield charm above the aforementioned eggs.

After the scores were announced, Viktor and Harry tied in first place with Cedric in close second and Fleur in third.

"Hey Harry!" Billy greeted as he went inside the first aid tent.

"Hey Billy!" Harry waved.

"I just finished interviewing the other three champions and I'm sure Colin's managed to take a picture of each of your and your fellow champions' brilliant moments earlier." He chuckled. "Care to share what you felt?"

"Oh Harry?" One Rita Skeeter intercepted him. "May I have a word?"

"Sure!" Harry smiled. "Good-bye."

Billy snorted at the remark.

"Let's go somewhere Billy."

"Sure thing."

----------

The Mudblood

First Task: Nesting Mothers

By: Billy Batson

The first task for the Triwizard Tournament is getting through dragons. The main objective of the task is to steal a fake egg from a nesting dragon.

Various sources told the Mudblood about how it was dangerous to use dragons for a tournament with student participants.

Newton Scamander, a famed Magizoologist and author of a series bestselling of books 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', has condemned the use of nesting mothers and their eggs in the tournament. The unnecessary danger to the brood and their mother could have been prevented had there been no real eggs used in the task.

He does send his appreciations to Durmstrang's champion, Viktor Krum, for using a shield charm to protect the eggs, instead of letting them get squashed by their very own mother, trying to protect them.

The champions were asked before of what they expected this tournament going to be. The four of them were in agreement that it's "a dangerously life threatening spectacle that challenges its participants". We asked them now if that's what was still on their minds for the second and third task.

The four of them are also in agreement with what they thought of the tournament now. "This goes beyond dangerously life-threatening and challenging, this is survival."

-----------

Days passed and it was time for the Yule Ball.

Billy and Colin were busy with the Ball's attendees with Billy interviewing the guests and Colin taking their photographs.

Soon enough, Billy spotted the champions separately, along with their dates. He waited for the eight of them to converge before he ambushed them with an impromptu interview.

"Hey guys!

"Hello Billy." Cedric and Harry greeted.

Fleur simply nodded at the young journalist while Viktor acknowledged his presence by looking at him with mild interest.

"Could you introduce me to your dates for this lovely night?" Billy prompted.

"My lovely date is one Herm-own-ninny." Viktor introduced as Hermoine gave a bow.

"My date for this night is Cho Chang." Cho mimicked Hermoine's actions and bowed in front of the journalist.

"My date for tonight is Roger Davies." The Ravenclaw smugly nodded at Billy.

"O-oh! M-my date is Parvati Patil." Parvati bowed at the journalist and offered a smile.

"So what do you think of this night?" Billy asked.

"Exciting." Hermoine answered.

"Nervous." Harry offered.

"Come now mate, I'm sure everything will be fine." Cedric assured the Potter.

"Champions over here please!" Came Professor Mcgonagall's voice.

"Looks like the deputy Headmistress is calling for you." Billy grinned. "Colin take a shot of these eight would you."

"Sure thing Billy!"

The four champions and their dates positioned themselves comfortably before Colin took a picture of all eight of them.

---------

The Mudblood

Yule Ball: A Memorable Magical Night

By: Billy Batson

The recently concluded Yule Ball was the first time in centuries that the event has coincided with the Triwizard Tournament. As such Hogwarts has been made a witness to the interschool camaraderie between students from all participating schools. They can invite just about anyone to the school dance provided that they are students of the participating schools.

Durmstrang students can invite students from both Hogwarts and Beauxbaton, as was the case for the school's champion, Viktor Krum, who had the lovely Hermoine Granger as his date.

Beauxbaton's students were also in the same boat as they too can invite, or can be invited, students from Durmstrang and Hogwarts which was true for their champion, Fleur Delacour, who had the dashing Roger Davies as her date.

That is not to say that the respective schools cannot invite someone from the same school as them, like Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, who had the beautiful Parvati Patil and Cho Chang as their respective dates.

For this one night, Hogwarts's staff, in collaboration with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, transformed the school's Great Hall into a ballroom made of ice. The Hall's enchanted ceiling were dropping snow while tables and chairs have their colors changed from wood brown to snow white and ice blue, giving off the illusion that they were also made of ice.

Icicles clung to the flame-lit and candle-lit chandeliers giving the Hall an atmosphere fit for royalty.

All of the guests in attendance agreed that venue and its ambience was a sight to behold.

The ball was opened by the four Triwizard Champions alongside their dates. The champions themselves were dashing and lovely while their respective dates were beautiful and handsome. The eight of them opened the celebration as they entranced the other attendees with their enchanting dance.

As the ball progressed, many other students and teachers danced. Headmasters Igor Karkaroff and Albus Dumbledore danced with their fellow teachers Professor Antonia Borislava and Professor Minerva Mcgonagall respectively while Headmistress Olympe Maxime danced with Professor Rubeus Hagrid.

The night progressed and the already memorable Yule Ball was graced with the performance of the Weird Sisters, who livened the event.

Both Percy Weasley, assistant to the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Batermius Crouch Sr., and Ludovic Bagman, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports has agreed that the Yule Ball was huge success. It was declared as soon as the ball concluded.

----------

The Yule Ball just ended, the four champions were just about to retire to their respective beds when a silver Tiger appeared by their bedsides.

"This is one ability of the patronus, sending messages. I would like to meet everyone on New Year's eve and good night."

As soon as the last word was stated, the silver tiger vanished.

----------

It was New Year's Eve, the four champions converged where they had been meeting William by the lake. Cedric and Fleur were talking with each other when Harry had arrived while Viktor simply stood to the side not caring of what was happening at the moment.

"Good you're here." William walked towards the champion. "I'm afraid this is no social call or another teaching session." He continued somberly.

"What happened?" Cedric immediately questioned.

"I have a lead to who put Mr. Potter's name into the goblet," William shook his head. "I'm still following it will go." He added. "Have any of the teachers been giving you 'helpful' hints past the first task?"

"Professor Moody was rather impatient to know if I had figured the clue just yet." Cedric offered.

"Same with me." Harry nodded.

"I see." William clicked his tongue. "I want the both of you to stay vigilant, especially around your teachers." He instructed both Hogwarts's champions.

"Vhat is going on? Vhy are ve suspecting Hogvarts's staff?" Viktro asked.

"Oui."

"If my suspicions are indeed true, this isn't the first time the Dark Lord has had his followers infiltrate the school to kill one Harry Potter." William looked at the youngest champion. "Mr. Potter?"

"Yes." Harry looked at his shoes.

"From what I gathered, Professor Quirrel was possessed by the wraith of the Dark Lord in an attempt to steal the Philosopher's stone." William stated. "Then the Chamber of Secrets, the heir of Slytherin was referring to one Tom Marvolo Riddle."

William wrote the name in the air before flicking his wrist to rearrange the letters to form 'I am Lord Voldemort'

"Voldemort has attended Hogwarts, but I'm going on a tangent." William shook his head. "Just last year, Black's escape from Azkaban and the reveal that Peter Pettigrew was the Weasley's pet rat."

"How, how do you know that?" Harry stared at the man.

"The ghosts here are loose lipped Harry." William knelt down to Harry's height. "I asked and they answered.

"The same thing will happen this year too?" Cedric gasped.

"I can't say for sure, but yes it's a possibility," William nodded. "Mr. Potter's name being revealed as the tournament's fourth champion, despite the precautions put in place fits the pattern."

"What are we to do?" Fleur panicked.

"As I said, I am still following the lead I have, however, I did not call you here simply to inform you."

The four champions narrowed their eyes in curiosity.

"I am here to cast protective charms on you." William gestured towards his wand. "You four might feel some shocks, but that's just my brand of magic."

"Can it block the unforgivable curses?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately no, alongside the protective charms, I am also casting a compulsion curse on the four of you."

"Wha-no!" The four of them protested.

"It's not the imperious curse." William assured. "Remember the word I had shared to you the week before the first task? If you four are in any life-threating situation, you will be compelled to say the word."

"Wouldn't it be called cheating if we were compelled to say the word in a tournament known to have fatalities?" Cedric questioned.

"Of course, I have already taken that into account, the compulsion only takes effect if you hear the first two syllables of the unforgivable curses." William explained.

"What about ze times where we feel zat we are threatened but ze unforgivable curses weren't cast?"

"You are free to say the word as well."

The four champions looked at each other in contemplation. From William's words, it seemed like this protection would last a lifetime.

"I'll take it!" The four champions voiced out.

"Well then, all four of you surround me." William instructed. "You need to place the tip of your wands and your left hand anywhere on me and close your eyes." He added. "You might feel a bit shocked but don't open your eyes as soon as I tell you to."

The four champions followed the instructions presented and closed their eyes, anticipating whatever would happen.

"Shazam!" William muttered under his breath.

Lightning struck William and shocked the four champions. They persevered however and remained in their places with their eyes closed.

"Shazam!"

Another lightning struck the location where William once stood shocking the four champions unconscious.

----------

The Daily Prophet

Triwizard Champions Found Unconscious

By: Rita Skeeter

In what should have been a happy new year's celebration turned horrifying when yours truly, Rita Skeeter, found the four champions of the Triwizard Tournament by the school's lakeside. Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter were all found unconscious.

Headmaster Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime all expressed disappointment with the school's rather lackluster security. They had a very thorough choice of words to express their disappointment.

According to various sources, it seemed like Mr. Potter had cast a sleep walking curse on his fellow champions as a prank and cast one on himself to avoid suspicion.

Mr. Potter was asked if the theory was true, as usual the boy-who-lived was tight-lipped and remarked about how secrets should stay a secret.

----------

Harry looked at the newspaper that Professor Mcgonagall had given him in her office.

"I swear Professor Mr. Batson had the four of us meet there like we used to." Harry justified.

"I know Mr. Potter, the headmaster and I received his message through a patronus and asked for permission." The Gryffindor's head of house. "I am simply here to discuss how you should address this situation."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, you can be reckless and do stupid responses most of the time so I called you in here before you could even retaliate."

Harry had no words to retort with the Professor's logic. He knew it himself that he was tad bit reckless.

---------

Depending on how one looked at things, the weeks that lead up to the second task was either exciting or nerve-wracking.

Cedric had clued Harry in on how to actually get the clue from the golden egg that they had gotten from the first task.

Harry, Hermoine and Ron all worked together on deciphering the clue that he got but they were stuck how to breathe underwater for more or less than an hour.

The day of the second task came, and the champions found out that the clue was about their friends who they need to save from underwater.

Cedric and Fleur all used the bubble-head charm before diving underwater while Krum transfigured himself into an incomplete shark and gave himself gills.

Harry simply downed the gillyweed that Dobby had given him beforehand.

"Tied in first place are Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter! Both Hogwarts's champions!" Bagman announced. "Followed by Mr. Krum and then by Ms. Delacour!"

---------

The Mudblood

Second Task: Underwater Rescue

By: Billy Batson

The second task involved saving one of the champion's loved ones underwater. The champions were in a state of shock as soon as they found out what the second task entailed. Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour didn't waste any time and cast the bubble-head charm before diving down the lake, in an effort to save their loved ones who were unconscious underwater.

Viktor Krum transfigured himself into a shark in a bid to breathe underwater and swim faster to save his loved one underwater.

Harry Potter, without using his wand, suddenly gained gills and webbed limbs, both conducive for underwater travel. He immediately dove down the lake to see who his hostage was.

Some sources believed that Mr. Potter ate a gillyweed to turn himself into a sea creature for an hour.

The first one to surface was Fleur Delacour, she was unable to save her hostage, her younger sister Gabrielle Delacour, for she was attacked by a swarm of grindylows.

The next to surface was Cedric Diggory along with his hostage, Cho Chang, his date during the Yule Ball.

After Cedric was Viktor Krum alongside his hostage, Hermoine Granger, his date during the Yule Ball.

Harry Potter was the last to surface, even later than his hostage, Ron Weasley, his best friend, and Fleur's younger sister.

According to the merpeople, Harry had arrived to where the hostages were kept first but didn't surface immediately and waited for the other champions to rescue their hostages.

The second task ended with Potter and Diggory tying in first place, followed by Krum and then by Delacour.

Sirius Black Declared Innocent

By: Mary Atkinson

---------

Time passed and the reveal of the third task came. Viktor, Cedric and Harry were upset as soon as they saw that the Quidditch Pitch was turned into something unrecognizable. Something the three of them so loved was defiled to this degree.

"I assure you Mr. Krum, Mr. Diggory, Mr. Potter you'll have your Quidditch field back to the way it was, as soon as the third task is done." Bagman assured.

"A Maze." Viktor observed.

"Pretty hedges aren't they?" Bagman smiled. "Give it a few months and they'll be 20 feet high." He bragged.

"We seemply 'ave to get through ze maze?" Fleur questioned.

"There'll be obstacles and Professor Hagrid is providing us a number of creatures."

Harry winced at the information, he knew how dangerous some of Hagrid's creatures were.

"The champions with the highest amount of points will get a head start, meaning Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter will start first followed by Mr. Krum and Ms. Delacour." Bagman grinned. "Everyone should have a fighting chance depending on how one passes through the obstacles.

After the information dump for the final task, Harry and Viktor decided to talk for a bit while Fleur and Cedric went back inside the castle.

After walking towards the forest and talked for a bit, one of the judges, Mr. Crouch, turned up looking worse for wear. He was saying something along the lines of warning Dumbledore and it was his fault.

Harry ordered Viktor to stay while he got Professor Dumbledore.

Unfortunately by the time he and Dumbledore they only found Viktor sprawled to the ground and no sign of Crouch.

"What are you doing here gentlemen?" William walked towards the group.

"Harry claims to have seen Barty Crouch here in the forest, looking delirious." Dumbledore informed the journalist. "And Viktor claims that Crouch has attacked him." He continued.

"Appare Vestigium."

Lightning struck the tree that William faced and soon enough a visage of Crouch appeared on the tree alongside a visages Harry and Krum talking to him. After a few moments the Potter's visage vanished and a red circle hit the Krum's visage, before it fell beside the delirious image of Crouch.

A green beam hit Crouch's head before everything disappeared.

Skid marks that of a femur bone replaced the visages that lead towards Hagrid's hut before it disappeared.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the point where the femoral skid marks stopped and that location exploded, revealing a human femur.

"Revelio"

The bone turned into Barty Crouch senior.

William looked at Hagrid and then at Dumbledore.

"No Hagrid can't be Crouch's killer." The Headmaster shook his head. "Hagrid was expelled from the school in his third year, transfiguring a human to a bone is far too advanced for someone of Hagrid's skill level."

"I'm sorry for that Headmaster, as a former auror, you know I had to scratch names from the list." William apologized.

"It's quite alright my boy." Dumbledore smiled.

"Hagrid, could you fetch Igor Karkaroof, he needs to be informed of this."

"A former auror eh?" Moody.

"Retired." William shrugged. "Now I'm just a journalist."

"Even still, one must exercise CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody exclaimed.

-----------

The Mudblood

Triwizard Tournament Casualty

By: William Joseph Batson

Bartemius Crouch Sr. was found dead at Hogwarts's grounds. People wonder if this was an assault or simply a casualty of the infamous tournament that was recently revived.

It is no secret that the Triwizard Tournament has an infamous death toll. The process of which the champions are chosen is through an ancient magical artifact, the Goblet of Fire. Little is known about this artifact, the Ministry and the School's involved are also in the dark as to what this magical artifact is capable of.

The Ministry claims that the champions selected by the Goblet were bound by a magical contract with failing to adhere to the contract, siphons the person's magic and/or life, hence the approval of Mr. Potter's participation, despite the new rule that underage students being ineligible to participate in the tournament, or at least submit their names to the said magical artifact.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement are hard at work at figuring out the cause of Mr. Crouch's death, whether it was mere happenstance or his death was part of the tournament altogether.

Despite the tragic passing of the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, the Ministry, by way of Minister Cornelius Fudge, has declared the third and final task to continue and he will take over Mr. Crouch's duties as judge.

--------

The Daily Prophet

HARRY POTTER: "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"

By: Rita Skeeter

---------

Witch Weekly

Harry Potter's Secret Heartache

By: Rita Skeeter

--------

The days leading up to the night of the third task was eventful, too eventful if you asked Harry.

Harry had been under Rita Skeeter's libelous attacks at the Daily Prophet ever since he and his fellow champions were found unconscious by the lake during New Year's Eve. During those days, Hermoine was hard at work to catch Rita Skeeter red handed and stop her from obtaining information through means that weren't ethical.

Even Hermoine fell to her libelous attacks and as a result, she was receiving many howlers for more than a day over the article about her supposed love triangle with Harry and Viktor

After the second task, Harry trained with Hermoine and Ron some spells that the Granger discovered in her research: the Impediment Curse and the Reductor Curse. He had even managed to surprise his friends that he already knew of the shield charms, but he was still having trouble with them, which was where they focusing their training most of the time.

"You're doing well considering things." Hermoine praised.

"I don't know." Harry shook his head. "When we champions trained with each other, Cedric's disarming charm could penetrate my shield charm and disarmed me of my wand."

"He is two years ahead of us." Ron offered. "As most of the champions are."

"I suppose."

None of the champions ever met with William after their meeting at during New Year's Eve. He had sent them a patronus to deliver a message, but those were simply well wishes and good lucks for the upcoming task.

In the same vein, the champions haven't met with Billy for an impromptu interview or otherwise. They still saw Colin who was taking photographs everywhere.

The day of the third task came and Harry found himself meeting with Professor Lupin and his godfather, Sirius Black, who was recently exonerated. It was a huge surprise to many to see the man who supposedly murdered his parents acting fatherly towards him. He couldn't bring himself to care because he finally have a family to call his own, one that would care for him.

The Weasleys also came to support Harry, as Molly and Arthur had come to see him as one of their own. Even when Percy was being a big prat, he knew that the former Gryffindor Head Boy, also supported him despite the other Weasley siblings sowing doubt about their brother.

As far as Harry knew, Percy was questioned about Mr. Crouch's death, or Ron claims, as he was doing Mr. Crouch's duties in the man's absence. It was probably a huge blow to him that the Minister of Magic himself has decided to take over Mr. Crouch's duties instead of Percy.

It was a huge miracle that Percy was even allowed to witness the third task altogether.

During his meeting with his godfathers and the Weasleys, Harry met the family members of his fellow champions: Fleur's mother, Viktor's parents and Cedric's parents. He had met Cedric's proud father back when he, Hermoine and the Weasleys watched the Quidditch World Cup alongside Cedric and his father.

Harry may not have shown it, he was a bit jealous of Cedric's relationship with his father. A father proud of his achievements, proud of him.

"Ignore him." Cedric offered. "Dad's been angry since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament – you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts's champion."

"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?"

"Hasn't he read The Mudblood?" Harry questioned. "Hermoine says that paper has articles that reflect facts instead of Skeeter's gossips."

"Harry!" Molly admonished. "You know that's not polite."

Harry and Remus began to explain how a certain news magazine came to Hogwarts the year before and revealed Sirius's innocence and Pettigrew's betrayal.

"Remember a few months ago Mum? When Mr. Batson interviewed us?" Percy offered. "He's the owner of that news magazine."

"Really?" Molly's eyes widened. "Well then, he should've chosen a better name." She huffed.

"Can you give me that paper?" Cedric's father stated, not believing the claim until he'd seen it.

"All the students are subscribed." Cedric produced the paper in question, displaying the article about the Triwizard Tournament.

"Do you always carry that everywhere?" Harry elbowed the Hufflepuff.

"I knew something like this would happen, knowing my father." Cedric grinned. "So I made sure to bring my copy of the paper with me."

"Are you sure you're not supposed to be in Slytherin?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I'm hurt." Cedric playfully clutched his chest. "I've been nothing but a loyal Hufflepuff, I'm not about to leave you in the lion's den."

"I am a lion though." Harry smirked. "Shouldn't I be left in a lion's den?"

"A badger's sett then." Cedric grinned.

"I'm surprised you know about muggle terms." Harry hummed.

"Remember when William first arrived?"

"Yeah?"

"The next few months after were spent learning about animals and what muggles do with them." Cedric informed. "Including what to call a group of them, their life spans, and what to call their homes."

"You're taking muggle studies?"

"I want to work at the ministry like dad, well after becoming a professional Quidditch player." Cedric admitted. "Dad has said that the Ministry had business with the muggle government, I think it'll be good to know how to blend in?"

"Are you sure you're not supposed to be in Slytherin, Cedric?" Harry teased.

"Oh hush you git!" Cedric elbowed the youngest champion.

"Aside from the news magazine's name, I quite like this article." The Diggory Patriarch declared. "I'll get a subscription."

"Later, Amos." Cedric's mother voiced out. "We're here to support our son."

"Right!" Amos nodded. "You'll show him Ced, Beaten him once before, haven't you?"

"That Skeeter woman goes out of her way to cause trouble Amos." Molly huffed. "I would've thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry."

"You know Amos Molly, Cedric is his pride and joy." Mrs. Diggory offered.

"I know that, Aria." Molly sighed. "It's not fair that he'd blame Harry for Skeeter's work, is it?"

"I suppose not." Aria shook her head.

---------

The big night came, everyone came to the Quidditch Pitch to witness the third task. Each student supporting their preferred champion, with Beauxbatons supporting Fleur and Durmstrang supporting Viktor.

Hogwarts's student population however was divided, two major houses supported only one champion, and those were Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, supporting their respective champions, Cedric and Harry.

Slytherins majorly supported Viktor while a few supported both of Hogwarts's champions Ravenclaws on the other hand weren't united on who to support, some supported Durmstrang, some Beauxbatons, some even supported Hufflepuff's Cedric and some had supported Gryffindor's Harry.

When the signal was given, Harry and Cedric went into the maze at the same time.

Time passed and all the Triwizard Tournament participants were inside the maze. They each navigated the maze on their own using a variety of spells, Wand-Lighting charms and a Four- Point Spell were among the spells cast by all four of them.

As Cedric dodged the Blast-Ended Skrewt's tail when he saw lightning struck one part of the maze. Suddenly, a violent gust of wind threatened to lift him off the ground, he managed to hold unto the maze's hedge but the creature that was blocking his wasn't so lucky as he saw it blown a few feet away.

Cedric converged with Harry to the place where lightning struck and found both Viktor and Fleur unconscious.

"William said, we won't say the word if we're in the tournament." Harry voiced out.

"Do you think an unforgivable curse was used?" Cedric questioned.

"Surely Krum or Delacour wouldn't cast that, would they?" Harry asked.

"I don't know." Cedric frowned. "We've never known them enough."

"Should we send Red sparks?"

"I think we should." Cedric nodded. "We'll know what happened after the task."

Cedric and Harry pointed their wands up and called the spell at the same time.

"Vermillous!"

Soon after, both Cedric and Harry went on their separate ways and continued to navigate through the maze.

The both of them were perplexed at the lightning that struck the maze, they knew the only way to have been forced to say the word during the tournament was if they heard someone say the first two syllables of any of the unforgivable curses.

As time went by, both Hogwarts champions met at a crossroads, with the Triwizard cup gleaming at the end of the corridor of hedges. Cedric was nearer to the cup so the Hufflepuff champion made a mad dash towards the prize.

Harry, never one to quit, immediately chased after Cedric, in the hopes of outrunning him.

That all changed when a huge spider dropped from above.

"Cedric look out!"

The Diggory was able to avoid getting flattened by the large spider and rolled backwards, just in time for Harry to arrive.

Cedric and Harry teamed up and cast jinxes, hexes and charms at the overgrown arachnid for little to no effect. It was so huge or so magical that none of their consecutive attacks were working against it. They wasted much time attacking one after the other that soon after the both of them were separated.

Harry was lifted in the air by the spider's pincers while Cedric continued to fire jinxes and spells at his gigantic enemy.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry's disarming spell worked but he was now dropped from high up.

"Arresto Momentum!"

Harry found himself suddenly suspended mere inches above the ground before he was unceremoniously dropped with a thud.

The large spider jumped and threatened to land where Cedric and Harry were standing

"Stupefy!"

The combination of both Harry's and Cedric's spells was just enough to throw the overgrown arachnid a few feet away from them, flattening some of the hedges as a result.

"You okay?" Cedric offered a hand towards Harry.

"I'll live." Harry breathed.

That was when both boys saw the gleaming Triwizard cup, and so started the argument of who should take the cup. They each listed reasons on why the other one should get it.

In the end, both of them decided to take the cup together and at the same time.

Cedric and Harry were unceremoniously dropped unto a graveyard as soon as they touched the Triwizard cup.

Said cup was flung away from them as soon as they arrived.

The boys took a small breather as they recuperated from the impromptu teleportation the two of them had been subjected to.

Harry looked at his surroundings, the sense of familiarity immediately hit him but he just can't place where.

"Where are we?" Cedric questioned as he looked around.

"I've been here before." Harry stated as the sense of dread was filling him.

Cedric looked at the cup then at his companion.

"The cup is a Portkey." Cedric informed the Potter. "Where'd you think this sent us?"

"I don't know." Harry shook his head. "I just know I've been here before, in a dream."

"Part of the task then?" Cedric questioned.

"I don't think so." Harry denied. "The tournament is supposed to take place at the school."

"Wands out then?"

"Yeah."

Harry and Cedric let out their respective wands and held them tightly, ready to defend themselves from any possible threat.

"Cedric, get back to the cup!" Harry ordered as he traced his wand on the name engraved on the grave – Tom Riddle.

"Wha-?" Cedric rushed to his companion's side. "What are you talking about?!"

"Get back to the cup!" Harry repeated before crumpling to the ground.

Harry was holding his head, the side where his scar was located, as he screamed in pain.

Cedric tried to help his companion when he saw a figure holding a bundle covered with a single robe getting out from the house he hadn't noticed before.

The figure began to menacingly walk towards both boys.

"Who are you?!" Cedric pointed his wand at the figure. "What do you want?!"

"Kill the spare!" A voice that came from the robed bundle, hoarsely ordered.

"Ava-"

"SHAZAM!"

"-da Kedavra!

Lightning struck the ground a few meters away from Cedric as the green beam of light was expelled from the figure's wand.

"Cedric! No!"

A huge shockwave flung everyone in the area away from where they once stood, barring the unknown figure. The figure was barely able to stand his ground but the hood came off of the figure and revealed his true identity – Wormtail.

Harry was flung to a statue before dropping to the ground, wincing in pain.

Cedric was flung a few feet away before he dropped to the ground, lifeless.

"You!" Harry gasped.

----------

Cedric regained consciousness when he felt someone stepping on his face. He made a small opening on his eyes, just enough to see who was stepping on him but not enough to clue anyone that he had regained consciousness.

He was about to gasp upon seeing Voldemort's face above him, that was when he found out that he couldn't move, apart from his eyes and eyelids.

Suddenly, he remembered that he should be dead. He remembered the killing curse cast, with him as the intended target.

The killing curse somehow paralyzed him.

Cedric was on the verge of panicking when he saw Voldemort's face float away from him on top surviving the killing curse.

The Hufflepuff forced himself to calm down and try to discern the situation he found himself in.

In trying to discern his situation, he briefly got a glimpse of Harry bowing towards the Dark Lord, as if someone was forcing him to bow down.

"Cruci-"

"Shazam!"

-o!"

Cedric could hear thunder roaring and see lightning flashes in the sky as Harry was on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse. He could hear the Dark Lord putting Harry under the torture curse multiple times, which would cause Harry to shout the word William had given the four of them via the compulsion charm William placed on them.

Harry was even placed under the Imperious curse from what Cedric could hear.

The Diggory figured that the word that William taught them summoned lightning and wouldn't be of much help if the spell's effect was instantaneous like the Imperious curse or the Cruciatus curse unlike the killing curse where the target has a small window of time to dodge the spell.

A moment later, a lightning storm happened. Continuous flashes of lightning lit up the graveyard before lightning struck a statue near the Dark Lord.

The next thing Cedric knew was Harry dueling against Voldemort, that was when he knew Harry didn't learn much about dueling, considering the incompetent teachers Hogwarts's has had. If the both of them would be able to come out alive from this mess, he swore that he would get Harry up to speed when it comes to dueling.

As Harry and Voldemort dueled, multiple places were struck by lightning, especially near where the Death Eaters were standing. Some graves and statues were even blown to pieces.

The place where lightning struck multiple times was at the center of the dome that was created when Harry's disarming charm collided with Voldemort's killing curse.

The Death Eaters were busy casting some protection charms in the area, which were ultimately useless the lightning continually shattered them.

"Do nothing! Unless I command you!" Voldemort shrieked at them.

Cedric tried to roll but his body still seemed paralyzed, despite that he desperately tried to move his body so that he could assist his fellow Hogwarts's student. Somehow, he managed to roll his body on his stomach and saw what was happening.

Apparently, there was a lot of details that Cedric has missed from his earlier observations. For instance, there were a few gray silhouettes of people.

Ghosts?

The Diggory can clearly make out the apparent ghosts' facial structure and body. He could even see their mouth moving as if talking to Harry, who was responding only with nods.

"Now!" Cedric heard Harry scream and charge towards him.

As Harry zigzagged across the graveyard dodging: curses; spells and; graves, lightning struck the places where Harry had stepped on, intercepting other spells coming the boy's way.

Cedric on the other hand, despite his paralyzed state, wanted to make things a bit easier for Harry, he desperately rolled himself on his back towards Harry's direction.

Harry threw himself on Cedric's body then pointed his wand at the Triwizard cup.

"Accio"

Cedric felt something bumped the back of his head when he heard an applause. It seemed like he and Harry arrived back at the school.

He was then lulled back to unconsciousness.

----------

"Harry!"

Cedric screamed as he immediately sat up on his bed.

"Relax my boy." The Headmaster announced his presence. "I don't think Madame Pomfrey would appreciate her patients getting disturbed." He offered.

"Headmaster!"

"Good Evening Mr. Diggory." Dumbledore greeted.

"You have to warn everyone! He's back!" Cedric scampered to the Headmaster, stumbling a bit. "You-know-who's back!"

"Calm down Mr. Diggory." Dumbledore ordered. "Shouting and panicking will only lead to rash decisions."

Cedric took calming breaths. He agreed with the Headmaster's words that panicking would lead to irrational actions.

The Hufflepuff just couldn't help the guilt that he essentially let Harry battle the Dark Lord all on his own. He was supposed to be older than the boy-who-lived, someone with experience and he just lied on the ground and watched Potter battle you-know-who.

"If it's not too much to ask, my boy, would you consent to giving us your version of the story?" Dumbledore asked. "Harry claimed that you've been hit by the killing curse."

"The boy just woke up!" Madame Pomfrey growled. "You're already questioning him?!"

"I'm afraid it is necessary Poppy." Dumbledore sighed. "It is of utmost necessity that we include someone else's testimony, seeing as Fudge got Crouch Jr. kissed by a dementor."

"Another Dementor inside the school." Madame Pomfrey seethed.

Cedric could only stare at the two adults in the room. As far as he can put together, it seemed like Harry has already warned everyone who were at the Quidditch field of you-know-who's return but the Headmaster just implied that the ministry won't believe it.

"Crouch jr.?"

"Polyjuice potion." Dumbledore answered the Hufflepuff. "He was teaching as Professor Moody in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Someone impersonated one of the Headmaster's closest friends?

Cedric knew that Mad-eye Moody and the Headmaster were close friends by way of his father. Amos had commented about that during his conversation alone with his parents before the third task. The Diggory patriarch even remarked that there was no better teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts than Alastor Moody.

"Harry already told you his version of the story."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "What we want to know is how you survived the killing curse, Harry was convinced that you had actually died."

"I don't know myself Professor." Cedric admitted. "I knew that a hooded figure aimed the killing curse at me. I felt myself getting blown away from the hit, then I blacked out."

"Felt getting blown away?"

"Yes!" Cedric nodded. "The next thing I knew was you-know-who stepping on my face."

"Were there anything else that happened during when the killing curse was cast?"

"There was lightning." Cedric admitted. "At the same time that the killing curse was cast, lightning struck the grass a small distance in front of me."

"Curious, quite curious." Dumbledore smiled.

"Sir, what about you-know-who?"

"Would you be willing to corroborate your story with Harry?"

"Of course sir!" Cedric nodded.

"I must warn you, the minister does not believe what you saw was real, Skeeter's article paints Potter as delusional."

"The Daily Prophet's rubbish anyway, and so is she." Cedric growled. "Her articles only serve to divide us."

"Ah yes, her articles are enchantingly nasty." Dumbledore nodded. "You know what this entails right Mr. Diggory?"

"Smear campaign against me, or my parents would strongly suggest to denounce what Harry stated?" Cedric questioned.

Hufflepuffs had the reputation of being naïve, weak, dumb and everything in-between. Cedric can say without a doubt that the students he met in his house weren't what their house's reputation seemed to imply, he certainly wasn't.

If there's one thing anyone can describe Cedric, it's that he's loyal. He is not about to leave Harry in the air just like that. He knew his name would be tarnished if he would side with the Gryffindor Triwizard champion, but he doesn't care about that, what he cares is that Harry would have someone to support him, to be there for him in times of need.

It's only fair.

After having Harry duel against the Dark Lord in the graveyard, it's the least he could do.

His reputation can recover, but life can't be.

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded.

"Then I will tell everyone what I saw and corroborate with Harry's story."

----------

The morning after, Cedric was still bedridden. He can certainly stand, walk and run but Madame Pomfrey insisted that he stay for a few days.

Apparently, William had given Madam Pomfrey some theories of Cedric's unconsciousness and his apparent paralysis. She certainly wasn't shocked when the Diggory told her and the Headmaster of his predicament at the graveyard.

"You're alive." Cedric's parents sobbed on him in relief. "My boy's alive!"

"Happy to be dad, mum." Cedric smiled.

"I didn't know that Harry Potter wanted to win the Triwizard Tournament that he'd use the killing curse." Amos growled. "I will have him arrested."

"Amos!" Aria called out. "That was Rita Skeeter's speculation, we shouldn't be believing her words."

"What if it's true Aria?!" Amos countered. "He has the gall to blame it on someone dead like you-know-who."

"He really has risen dad." Cedric somberly admitted. "I was there, Harry was almost killed."

"Why're you defending your killer Cedric?" Amos asked.

"I don't know how I survived the killing curse, but it wasn't Harry who cast it dad." Cedric assured his father. "I heard Harry thought I was dead, wasn't it enough that he brought me back to Hogwarts, to prove his innocence?"

"Your son has a point Amos." Aria offered. "Had Potter actually tried to kill our son, he wouldn't have brought incriminating evidence against him."

"I… I guess you have a point." Amos conceded. "I… I was this close to losing our son Aria, I don't know what I would do if we really had lost him."

"Everything will be fine dad, mum." Cedric assured. "Since I'm of age already, I can practice magic back home."

"I'll be bring home some Auror friends to get you up to speed."

"Thanks dad."

----------

"Before we begin our end of year feast, I have some announcements to make." Dumbledore stood somberly in front of the Hogwarts's student body and staff. "As you know, the Triwizard Tournament was held over the course of this year, its aim was to further and promote international magical understanding.

During the third task of the tournament, both Cedric Diggory's and Harry Potter's lives were endangered when they were portkeyed out of Hogwarts's premises by way of the Triwizard Cup. It is fortunate that both boys were able to return to the school alive."

Dumbledore looked at his audience and noted their reactions. Some were looking down and some were nodding.

"The ministry would strongly discourage what I am about to tell you, I believe it is for the greater good, that everyone present, be informed of what Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter witnessed while away from Hogwarts."

Dumbledore noticed that Diggory and Potter were gulping, anticipating the information.

"Lord Voldemort has returned."

The occupants of the great hall gasped. Panicked whispers filled the Great Hall as they tried to process what the Headmaster has just stated.

"As stated, The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they do not believe of Voldemort's return or they think that I should not tell you, as young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is preferable to lies and to say otherwise would be an insult to the sacrifices people have done to this day."

Harry and Cedric had their heads bowed as they remembered what they experienced at the graveyard.

"Every guest in this Hall will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again – in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

It is my belief – and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, we almost lost two students from our midst.

Remember the fallen. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to the people who were good, and kind, and brave, because they strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember the fallen."

Dumbledore ended his spiel and observed everyone's reactions.

Predictably, the panicked whispers did not cease nor did the fear in everyone's eyes fade. It was a natural reaction for students, who didn't know the horrors of the previous war, to react in such a way.

Dumbledore saw some Slytherin students roll their eyes and continued chatting with their peers.

"Yes, we all have a reason to be fearful that doesn't mean that our lives as we know it will cease." Dumbledore shouted. "We also have cause to celebrate, one of which is the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament with no champion casualty."

The great hall clapped at the declaration.

"Another cause of celebration, is the awarding of victors to the Triwizard Tournament!" Dumbledore proclaimed. "Would the champions please join me here for the awarding?" The Headmaster called. "Would Beauxbaton's Headmistress join me please?"

With the Hogwarts's Headmaster's cue Cedric, Harry, Fleur and Viktor joined the staff and faced everyone in the great hall as Headmistress Maxime stood beside Dumbledore.

"To help me in awarding the house cup, please welcome Mr. Percy Ignatius Weasley!" Dumbledore announced.

Percy stood up from his table and joined Dumbledore and the Triwizard champions as the people in the great hall clapped.

With the absence of Durmstrang's Headmaster, Dumbledore and Maxime were left to award the prizes for the tournament's participants. They had awarded Fleur in third place and Viktor in second place.

"Before I proceed, Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter, the both of you touched the Triwizard cup at the same time." Dumbledore stated. "There's only one cup and two of you, how should we continue?"

"If I may headmaster, why don't we settle the tie with a duel?" Professor Snape suggested.

"What do you say Diggory? Potter?" Dumbledore asked.

"I refuse." Cedric declined the offer, to everyone's shock. "It wouldn't be fair to duel Harry as he is two or three years younger than me." He looked at the Potions master's eyes.

"According to your statement, you saw Potter duel you-know-who, wouldn't it be a fair assessment that he can hold his own against you?" Professor Snape offered.

"I'm afraid not Professor." Cedric shook his head. "Due to his inexperience, from what I witnessed, Harry's style of dueling is sloppy at best." He offered his assessment. "No offense." Cedric immediately added, facing Harry.

"None taken." Harry smiled.

"Considering the past three years of Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers we have had, two of which were incompetent and from what I heard from my fellow Hufflepuffs, Professor Lockheart's approach to dueling wasn't ideal." He offered his assessment.

"How so Mr. Diggory?" Professor Mcgonagall questioned.

"People told me that Professor Lockheart failed to teach them how to block unfriendly spells." Cedric relayed. "From what I have seen Harry do, I can't help but agree with that assessment."

"I see." Professor Snape sat down.

"Magnificent Diggory!" Professor Flitwick praised. "Yes I remember, you were your year's most talented duelist, no doubt your parent's influence."

"I try my best Professor." Cedric blushed.

"That still leaves the matter of the winner." Dumbledore pointed out. "There is one cup and two of you."

"Professor, if I may." Cedric offered.

"Yes Mr. Diggory?"

"Why don't Harry and I tie in for first place?"

"Are you sure you want to split your victory?" Dumbledore questioned. "Glory cannot be split, you both will share that, however there's the prize."

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. "We can also split the prize between the two of us."

"Glad to know you agree with me mate, you're a good bloke." Cedric ruffled Harry's hair. "But yes Professor, we can split the prize." He nodded at the headmaster.

"Very well then." Dumbledore nodded.

Hogwarts's Headmaster urged the boys to take a few steps forward and raised and handed the boys the Triwizard Cup.

"I present you the Triwizard Tournament Winners: Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter!" Dumbledore declared.

The declaration earned a round of applause from the people present in the Great Hall from students – except from the Slytherin students –, teachers, staff and guests.

"On that note, let the feast begin!"

---------

"In a few hours, our guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be returning to their homes." Dumbledore announced. "As a special treat, why don't we show them our yearly tradition of awarding the house cup?"

Every Hogwarts student stood up and cheered.

"The current point standing are: In fourth place, Ravenclaw with 390 points; third place, Slytherin with 406 points; in second place, Gryffindor with 439 points; and in first place, with 445 points, Hufflepuff house."

Every Hufflepuff, from the students to the staff, cheered loudly. Some had even lifted their Triwizard champion and hoisted him in the air in pure glee.

"Congratulations Hufflepuff! You win the house cup!" Dumbledore declared.

The Headmaster clasped his hands together and raised them towards the banners that hung from the ceiling of the Great Hall. The Gryffindor banners were now replaced by Hufflepuff colors and insignia.

Every student in Hufflepuff threw their hats in the air in celebration, and those that were carrying Cedric, they opted to jump up high with glee.

---------

The Mudblood

Triwizard Tournament Winners

By: Billy Batson

Unforeseen events during the Triwizard Tournament has left Wizarding Britain holding their breaths as they waited for the announcement of the winners for the much acclaimed contest between schools. The sudden kidnapping of both Hogwarts's champions and the disappearance of Durmstrang's Headmaster has forced the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports to postpone the announcement of the tournament's winners.

During today's End of year feast, Hogwarts's Headmaster has officially declared that both Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter winners of the Triwizard Tournament, a first since the tournament's creation. Various sources say that Professor Snape offered to have duel between the two participants' as tie breaker.

In true Hufflepuff fashion, Hufflepuff's champion, offered that both he and Gryffindor's champion be declared winners as the rules stated that whosoever touched the cup first shall be the winner of the tournament, and the both of them did touch the Triwizard cup at the same time.

It is unclear whether the recently concluded Triwizard Tournament signals the full revival of said competition as the champion's selection was rigged to gather four champions instead of three and the use of dangerous beasts, nesting ones, have been rather controversial.

We here at the Mudblood offer our sincerest congratulations to the participants of the Triwizard tournament and its winners Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

09. That’s How Hope Died

My apologies friends and familiars, but I absolutely don’t think that I can continue to do this story as standalone pieces anymore and to add on to the possibly not great news, there’s more chapters of story to be told here. But, those who can stay, I’m glad to have you here.  2721 Words, Trigger Warnings: Mental health issues, abuse, child death, grief

Previous

The key to having a successful “challenge” video or a hot “remix” was to have a plan proactively. Grace would have about a dozen different new choreos in mind at any given time, and she worked on beats a lot when she probably should be doing other things. She had various number outfits in mind. She had remix beats in mind and the clips of videos that she might want to add to such remixes. This was her happy getaway. The hours that she put into all of her dance training, her classical music instruments, and her academics made her feel like she earned a few to just create things that she enjoyed. And she had an outpouring of creativity from 14-16. 

Whenever a new hot song would come out, she would hear it and wonder how it might sound if she remixed it with the R747 (she named all of her creations with “stock numbers” until they became associated with a released song). She might think to herself, the choreography C929 will be perfect for this! Even her performance outfits, “And if I wear the W23… well… This is gonna be fire!” 

So, she might hear, for example, a new song by Ghairrisahn ft Fr8-Tre/in (for the old folks, that’s pronounced Garrison, ft Freight Train… See, Garrison is how it’s pronounced, but she spells it that way to stand out and well, Fr8-Tre/in’s name is Treyvon, they called him Tre growing up and you know, Freight TRE and add the “N,” sound like a play on words?) Her parents absolutely wouldn’t have listened to her explain. The hired help often had to, though, especially if they happened to be around while she was creating or putting together creations for presentation…

She would hear the song, decide and type into her phone’s notes: Shucky Ducky by Ghairrisahn ft Fr8-Tre/in. R747. C929. W23. As soon as she got home, she would check to see if any challenges or remixes of the song were released yet, because the Internet was fast and she was at school all day and sometimes, rehearsals well into the night. If it wasn’t already a thing, or if it was a thing, but the thing was null, she would make the remix of the song with her remix beat, then play it as she wore the outfit she prepped and performed the choreography she created. Then, she would post it, atting the artist, and hashtagging the song, TheApex, ApexChoreo, ApexBeauty,ShesBeautyShesGrace,Gracecore, (song title)remix and challenge, among others.

All of those would always skyrocket. Her favorite artists would always eventually see them, sometimes soon. Ghairrisahn even said that she wanted her to be in one of her videos. (Her mother was attentive to that bit of information when she shared it). 

When she called Simon to tell him, he already knew. Of course he did. That dude was always on his computer. He always had hella tabs open. He was working on maybe 4 assignments for school, at least 2 of his stories, keeping up with his favorite fandoms, and checking social media - which he hardly ever got on to talk to people that he knew in real life, but he still was entertained by many of them and usually kept watch of all of her pages, whether or not it dawned on her. 

When they were 15, she was invited on a summer tour with Ghairrisahn, to dance. It was a dream come true for her, even though her parents were very reluctant to agree to this. Filming a music video was one thing, but gallivanting across the country all summer was another thing entirely. “Mom, this would be just like if I had gotten the ballet spot in Germany!”

“No it isn’t. THAT was a world renown dance troupe and you BLEW it. THIS is some girl who sounds like she’s singing underwater, never wears a full sized blouse and almost unquestionably engages in recreational smoking.” Simon was typing on his phone. He didn’t get involved. 

“She is a Grammy award winning icon! Everybody knows her. You know who knows that dance troupe? Ballet heads. That’s who. Mom, to be successful, in this day in age isn’t just about money and high standing. It is about fame and visibility! AND, if I’m on tour, I have that many places to use my products and promote the brand and bring in revenue to the company!”

Mrs. Monroe sighed, “Alright. That sounds like a good idea. But, I’m sending you with your team. You’re not to be in the same vehicle as that marijuana girl. You’re to only interact with her and her team for business purposes and you will adhere to the schedule that your team provides.”

She clenched her fists and jumped up and down, excitedly. Simon’s eyes looked up from his phone to watch her, but he didn’t react in any other ways until she rushed over and hugged him, “We’re going on the road with Ghairrisahn!” She squealed.

He sighed and wiped a hand down his face, “Grace, I can’t go on the road with you this summer. You know I have like 6 different major things that I need to do this year.” Her face fell. “I wish I could. I love Ghairrisahn. She’s my top five celebrities whose hair I wanna smell…” Grace and her mother both made disgusted and confused faces that he ignored and kept talking, “But I literally have a major engineering program, a science camp to prepare for this upcoming school year, the journalism workshop, orientation for the early college courses path, the Dean’s meet and greet, and I’m heading some things for the scouts that I signed on to before I realized that I’d have to do some of the other things. I can’t go right now. Junior year is the most important year of my high school career. Not to mention, you know that I’m being emancipated next year. I just… I don’t have time to tag along this time, Grace.” 

She nodded her head, sadly. “Well, that’s cool. But, I mean, I’ll be able to fly you out to a show or two, right?”

He shrugged, “Send me the tour schedule when you get it, and I’ll let you know.”

“What’s your mom gonna do while you’re doing all of that?” She asked. He frowned and stared at her. She was concerned. He knew that she didn’t mean any harm. But, asking about his mother while her mother was still around was pretty inconsiderate, even for her. She must’ve realized from her face that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Because she fell back and clasped her hands together, “Well, since we’re both still around, let’s go do something in town together. You do have a little free time right now, right?”

“Yeah,” he said defeatedly.

“Yeah,” she imitated and reached out for him with her hand to pull him up off of his favorite cushioned lounging chair. “Mom, we’re going!” Grace called. Her mother had stopped paying attention to them several minutes ago, pretty much whenever the conversation no longer concerned her. She didn’t even hear Grace excuse herself.

.

“It’s hot! Why do you ALWAYS have on a hoodie?” Grace asked.

“I don’t have one at school.”

“Because they aren’t allowed.”

“Exactly. We’re not at school. Nobody can tell me what I can and can’t wear,” he said. 

They were quiet for a moment. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but she knew that something was. “Hey, do you wanna record ourselves doing skateboard tricks?” She asked.

“Is that your way of asking me to record you doing some skateboard tricks, Grace?”

“You can do yours too!” She laughed.

“I just wanna walk right now,” he said. She bit her lip and danced alongside of him, singing Shucky Ducky. Simon looked over at her and the smile of his features returned. She was good for that. Making him feel better about things that really just didn’t feel good. After a while, some thought, letting it rush around in his head, he said, “She’s going to go live with my grandmother.” Grace stopped dancing and stared at him with wide eyes. “She refuses to go to a hospital. I can’t get dad to come home right now and I just… don’t have the time to care for her. I was gonna be gone in a few months, anyway. Leave it to her, I never did anything to even help her over these years. The story that my grandmother believes is actually quite different from the events that my mind has collected.” Grace rubbed his back, but didn’t say anything. Simon had tears welling up in his eyes. “Do you know how many times she’s taken a swing at me, and I’ve had to restrain her to keep her from connecting? How many times she’s yelled at me, berated me for innocent missteps and mistakes that children simply make? All of the times that I wanted to just put that pillow over her face and not let go until she stopped moving?” He was shaking. “Now, apparently she has bruises all over her that I supposedly put there and my grandmother just believes that I’m capable of it, because I killed my sister, why not try my mom too?” He roared at the sky and covered his face with both hands.

Grace looked around for some place to sit, and just decided on the grass under a tree. She led him over, sat him down and rested on her knees, looking at him, but not knowing what to say. He didn’t really talk much about his sister. What she knew about it was what she had looked up on news sources on the Internet (only to understand more, not to be sneaky or harm him in any way), and she never brought up what she learned, because she knew it would be very painful for him. 

According to every source that she had found, the little girl’s death was an accident. She and her brother had been playing, they got into an argument, she ran off, he gave chase, she climbed up a ladder to try to hide in the attic, he pulled her leg and she fell and hit her head. It was an accident. A freak accident. She shouldn’t have been able to die from the fall. There were a few reports that the boy had possibly “thrown her hard” to the floor, but even knowing how angry Simon could get and not actually putting it past him to accidentally get that angry, she rationalized that even still, at 10, he wouldn’t have had the strength to cause reasonable damage to a 4 year old. She wanted to tell him that right now, but he didn’t know that she knew that much about it and it seemed like it might only upset him more to find out that she looked into it.

He was red in the face, hot, breathing hard, and crying, and he didn’t want her near him or looking at him at the moment. But, there she was. Where else would she be?

“Simon, I’m so sorry that your mom… is the way that she is. But, on the bright side, she’s not gonna be your problem anymore. She’ll be your grandmother’s and I mean… that’s her daughter. Who knows what she might have done to contribute to the person that she became…” 

He looked up suddenly and stared at her in horror, “Do you think I’ll be like that? Do you think… I mean… I get so angry and I get violent, and I lash out… Do you think I’m like her? Am I gonna treat my family that way? My kid?”

Grace leaned forward to place her hands on Simon’s shoulders and said, “I think that you’re the best person I’m ever going to meet, that is of course until you have kids, because then they’ll be the best people, because you’re not going to make the same mistakes your parents did. I think for what you’ve been given, your anger and violence and lashing out is totally justified. And it isn’t like you just go around beating up the defenseless. I mean, yes, sometimes… we’re a little quick on the draw and maybe hurt somebody that probably didn’t deserve it that much, but there are actual school shooters and like… pedos and stuff out there. A kid who beats on people who deserve it every now and then, destroys some stupid property or whatever is like nothing compared to like… those types.”

“So… I’m not a good person, just not the worst,” he said.

“You’re the best person I KNOW.”

“You know like 3 people.”

“I know plenty of people!”

“Outside of your immediate family and me, name ONE.”

She stammered and he laughed a little. She was grateful for that, even if she was flustered. “The red… um… shirt… Cameron!”

“Cameron… The… guy who works at the Target right outside of the gated community?”

“Yes! See… I know people.” Now, he laughed heartily and threw his head back. 

She knew kids at school who gave her presents’ names. She would always thank them and say something nice to them about their presents, whether or not they liked them. It was a trend to give her things and IF someone noticed her using or having the thing later, they had bragging rights, though no matter what anybody gave her, she preferred anything that Simon gave her over all of them. They never understood why, but she did. She knew that their presents came from wanting her to love them. His presents came from already loving her.

“Hey… do you want to go visit her?” She asked.

“Visit who?” he wondered.

“Hope,” she said. He looked startled. He knew that he never told her his sister’s name, but now that he was calm, she was testing the waters to see how he felt about her having at least some portion of knowledge.

He whispered, “I never go there.” 

“I won’t try to force you,” she said.

After a moment, he said, “I want to…” 

His hands were shaky until Grace took them in hers and smiled up at him, “Then let’s do it. We’ll stop by a shop and get her a nice bouquet.” She let go of one of his hands and pulled the other to follow her. He still didn’t want to say more about his sister, but some part of him wished that the visit would change something inside of him. He didn’t want to think about the word “Hope,” to describe his desires. It felt wrong.

He cried a lot. Grace smoothed her hand across his back and remained quiet. After a long while, and he was seemingly out of tears, she said, “Maybe I should skip the tour. I’ll probably have opportunities like this in the future. I’m pretty hot right now.”

“You always are.” He wanted to tell her not to do that. That she deserved to go on the tour and that she should have fun, but just like when she wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to write about his family to get into the academy, he didn’t have the nerve to openly oppose what was best for him. 

What was best for him was that the one person that he could cry in front of was there for all of the summer nights that he was already certain that he would cry from stress alone. But it was up to her, just like it had been up to him to decide that he wanted to be at school with her, even if he was going to have to hurt a little to get there.

The difference was she ultimately decided that it was best that she went. He didn’t like it, but they had been apart before in the past and even if she had been in town, he was going to be constantly busy anyway. Still… he emotionally logged it as a time that she was not there for him when he needed her to be. Was it fair? Maybe not. But… it was simply how he felt about it.

Next

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

All Is Fair: Chapter 15 Three Little Words

Lia makes up with Jenny the buzzkill (but she seems like she has changed) and gets an amazing offer from London. Tommy says the three little words we would all kill to hear him say to us.

What a difference a day made Twenty-four little hours Brought the sun and the flowers Where there used to be rain

Lia met Jenny for lunch. A frisson of nervousness followed by warmth ran through Lia when she spotted Jenny at a table near the window. She stood and watched as Jenny spooned sugar into her tea, then a splash of milk before stirring it counterclockwise three times. Lia sighed and mused that some things never change, and she was suddenly struck by how much she missed those predictable little mannerisms which she had never noticed before. She was able to observe her for a few moments more before Jenny looked up and saw her standing in the entrance to the dining room. She waved and gave Lia a tentative smile as she moved toward the table.

“I ordered tea already…” Jenny started.

“Thank God. I’m in desperate need of a cuppa.”

Jenny poured Lia a cup. “Two sugars and a splash, right...”

Lia nodded and overlapped her words with, “...If you haven’t ordered yet, the ham salad is good here.”

“Oh, the waitress will be back around. I told her I was waiting for someone.”

They were both silent for a moment, avoiding each other’s eyes and sipping at their tea, until Lia softly chuckled and said, “I’m sorry… for everything.”

Jenny reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Me too. You know how I can get.”

“How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been alright. It’s been a bit quieter without you around.” Jenny looked into Lia’s eyes thoughtfully. “How are things in your new place?”

“Good. More room than I am accustomed to having.”

The waitress came and took their orders, which gave them both a moment to breathe. The air between them had grown pregnant with the question that Jenny had not yet asked. When the waitress walked away, Lia could feel it coming.

“How are things between you and Tommy?”

Lia felt like a dam about to burst. She longed to fill Jenny in on every detail of the past months. She wanted to gush bout how Tommy had put her in a house with more rooms than she could possibly use and that the bathroom had a huge marble tub. She was dying to say that he took care of her and made sure she had everything that she needed. She wanted to tell her that Tommy had taken her to London and had given her a gorgeous diamond necklace. That he was protective and thoughtful with her, and he wanted her to go to all sorts of swish parties...but she held back, for now.

She smiled over her teacup and simply said, “Things are going very well.”

There. The subject had been broached and any hint of static had been deflected. Part of Lia wished she could pour her heart out, to tell her all the good things and all of her worries, but she thought better of it. Lia had already begun to dismiss her own feelings about how Tommy was involved in every corner of her life.

The more she thought about opening up to Jenny, the more her heart justified Tommy’s actions. After all, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. She didn’t want their first contact in months to be a verification of Jenny’s earlier suspicions: the ones that had caused the rift between them in the first place. She didn’t want Jenny to feel as though she had only wanted to meet because she was having second thoughts about being with Tommy. Most of all, she wanted Jenny to know that she was happy with Tommy...and most of the time she was.

The food came and they soon fell into an easy conversation, catching up on everything that had gone on since they last spoke. Jenny’s said that her promotion was going well and that she had recently gotten a significant pay raise. Lia wondered if talk of Jenny’s Shelby connection had, at last, died down, but she didn’t dare ask. Lia mentioned her work with the manuscript collection and how she hoped that it would lead to archival work with a museum. Jenny seemed relieved that Lia was still following her dreams.

Soon the talk turned to family and the upcoming holidays.

“Are you spending the holidays with the Shelbys, then?”

“I haven’t seen Mum and Dad for ages. I plan on going home for Christmas and spending Boxing Day with Tommy.”

Jenny was pleased to hear it. It made her think that maybe Lia was keeping her head where Tommy was concerned, after all.

“I plan on taking the evening train home after work on the 23rd. We should travel together.” Lia suggested.

They parted with a promise to meet soon to plan their trip home. It was such a relief to Lia that she had her cousin in her life again. She loved Tommy, and his family had been very welcoming to her, but she needed her own family too. She supposed that blood really was thicker than water.

***

Rodney whistled as he pulled up to the curb in front of Lia’s house and engaged the brake. He came around to open Lia’s door and help her with the packages she had bought at the market after work.

She walked through the house flipping on lights, and called over her shoulder, “Thank you so much, Rodney. Just bring them through to the kitchen. Have you picked out anything special for Nancy’s Christmas?”

Rodney’s fiance, Nancy, was the apple of his eye, and he never tired of talking about her.

“Of course! She’s mad for jazz music so I got her some albums. I’ve got my eye on a pair of ear bobs too. Then there are sweets for stocking stuffers…”

Lia pulled a rose out of the bouquet she had bought for the table. “Here, take this home to her tonight,” she winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With not a moment to spare, she began preparing the food. Tommy would be there in an hour, and she wanted time to relax and have a drink before he arrived. While she tied on an apron and placed the flowers in a vase, she found herself whistling the same tune that Rodney had been whistling. Her outlook had much improved from the day before. She had gotten some good news at work, and she couldn’t wait to share it with Tommy.

With supper in the oven, she poured herself a whiskey and water (Tommy’s habits were rubbing off on her) and went into the bathroom to freshen up. She blotted her lipstick and dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears. The look that she wore to work was a bit demure, so she undid a few buttons and took the pins from her hair. She liked to look undone and soft for Tommy. Everything in his world was hard—business, politics, managing his family— she could be sharp when he needed her to be, but at home she was soft.

As she walked back through the house, she cut the bright lights out, turned on a few dim lamps, and lit some candles. Finally, she reclined on the couch and put her feet up. The ice in her glass tinkled when she took a sip of her whiskey; that and the crackle of the fire were the only sounds in her house. She lolled her head back against the couch and closed her tired eyes. The smell of roast beef and vegetables began to waft through the house, ensuring that when Tommy walked in he would be cocooned in the warmth and comfort of Lia’s home. Nothing could feel more perfect, well, except maybe Tommy sitting at the opposite end of the couch rubbing she sore feet.

When he let himself into Lia’s house, Tommy followed the candlelight to the front sitting room where she lay. Lia had dozed off, and her whiskey was balanced on her tummy with her hands still cradling the glass. It rose and fell comically with every breath she took. Tommy raised one corner of his lips and walked over to the couch. As he eased himself down on the end opposite Lia, he gently raised her feet and placed them in his lap. He caressed her leg and she opened her eyes just a crack. A lazy smile crept across her face when she saw that Tommy was gazing down on her with a lopsided smirk on his face.

“Long day?” he murmured.

“Definitely an eventful one.”

“You must tell me all about it.” He sniffed at the air and cocked his head toward the kitchen. “Is that roast beef with carrots and onions?”

Lia stretched and pulled herself up to a sitting position, “Yes, it is. Come on, love. I’ll tell you all about it over supper.”

Tommy stood and took her hands, pulling her up from the couch and into his arms. He was glad to see that Lia had gotten over the mood that she had been in the day before. He smoothed her hair back from her face and caressed her cheeks with the backs of his hands.

“Thank you.”

Lia looked up at him through wide eyes. “For what?”

He shifted a glance around the room, and the looked deep into her eyes. He squeezed her shoulders as he spoke. “For this. All of this. The peace, the calm, the love... I love you.”

Lia’s breath caught in her throat, and she stood for a moment in stunned silence. Tommy had, occasionally, called her “Love”, in that offhand way that people use the word as a term of endearment. “Hand me that book, Love. Do you want to go out or stay in for dinner, Love? Careful that you don’t step in that pile of horseshit, Love.” But, that was casual. Everyone said “Love” like that. This was a declaration of love.

“I love you too,” she breathed with a sigh.

This was everything she wanted. He had asked her to be his companion to public events, given her a substantial piece of jewelry, and now he had said those three little words. Both publicly and privately, Tommy was showing her that she was more than just a distraction. Maybe she was being unfair when she worried about him taking control of so many things. He obviously wanted to make her happy.

Once in the kitchen, Tommy sat at the table and pulled a cigarette out of the case. “Flowers? To what do I owe the honor?”

Lia pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and laid it aside before he could light the end, and said, “Don’t light that. We are eating right now. I thought flowers were appropriate for my news. I wanted tonight to be special.”

“Go on...”

“I decided to bury the hatchet with Jenny today.” She turned back to the sideboard and fixed two plates as she spoke.

“Yeah?” Tommy’s voice pitched higher than usual.

He didn’t mind that Lia had reconciled with Jenny, he just didn’t see it coming, and it was rare that he didn’t see something coming. He slid the cigarette back into the case and watched her bring the plates over to the table.

“How is Jenny?”

“Jenny is well. She has had a promotion and a raise,” she replied after chewing up a bit of the roast. “You may want to salt yours. I never know what’s enough.”

Tommy took a mouthful and replied, “Mmmmmm. Nah, it’s perfect. So, all is forgiven between the two of you?”

“I think so. She seems to understand what you mean to me. I got the impression that she trusts you with my heart, now.” Lia looked up at Tommy for some reassurance.

Tommy took a drink and returned her stare. “And do you?”

She was quiet for a beat. She searched his face, taking in the scar just below his cheekbone, the darkness under his eyes, and the scruff on his razor-sharp jawline. He had come to her at the end of a long day to sit at her table. Exhausted from too much business, too many people depending on him, and too little sleep, he chose not to go to his estate, nor to go to the midland for a quick fuck and an empty bed...for some unfathomable reason, he chose her. This man, this sinful sainted man, who had committed innumerable acts of violence and few acts of kindness, asked if she trusted him with her heart.

Lia leaned over to kiss his cheek and whispered, “Of course, I do.” How could she ever doubt him?

“May I smoke now?”

“Yes, Tommy. God, you can be so dramatic,” she chuckled under her breath.

She cleared the plates as he took the whiskey and their glasses back to the sitting room. When Lia followed after, he had shed his coat, vest, and gun holster and had undone his tie. He was squatting down to put another log on the fire and she slipped up behind him to run her fingers through his dark hair.

“So tell me, what was your other news?” he spoke, not shifting his eyes from the fire.

“I’ve had an intriguing offer from our London branch.”

Tommy stood and turned to face her. “London?”

“Yes. The branches are all connected through the National System...well, anyway, someone at the London branch in Westminster had a glowing recommendation from one of the professors I’ve helped and they want me to work on a special project.”

“Well, that’s good news indeed. When?”

Lia grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Just after the first of the year, Tommy. I’ll be in London with you.”

Tommy leaned in to kiss her, then wrapped her in his arms to pull her closer.

Lia spoke against his neck, “I am so excited. Its all worked out perfectly.”

She had no idea what he and Ada had done.

Masterlist

[atths--twice]

Onto the next story. 

Okay... I posted this in April, both as an Easter story and as an ask for more quarantine related stories. I hope you enjoy it. 

Easter in the Time of Quarantine    4/8

In the wake of the Coronavirus, Scully, Mulder, and Faith have self-quarantined in the Unremarkable House. It has been a few weeks and now Easter has arrived, and with it, some surprises... 

March 2020

Scully sat at the dining room table reading some news articles on her phone, her stomach becoming more and more agitated as she did so. Hearing Faith laugh, she looked up and smiled as she watched Mulder building with her soft blocks and then knocking them down.

Looking back at the article, she sighed and shook her head. Reaching for a pen, she began to make a list of things they would need to buy. There were many items added to it and she sighed as she looked at it, but she knew they would be needed, and possibly for a long time.

Two pages were filled before she looked up again, watching Mulder and Faith playing, Bella rolling around beside them. He was telling her a story as they built with the blocks and used the dolls from the dollhouses. Scully smiled at them and then sighed, knowing they needed to get up and get moving.

Standing up, Bella turned around and ran over to her, barking as she wiggled her entire body, looking for some pets. Scully bent down and pet her, scooping her up to bring her back over to Mulder and Faith.

She sat down and held Bella in her lap, smiling at the two of them as they played. Mulder looked up and smiled at her with a wink. She sighed and he tilted his head.

“Everything okay?”

“For now, but we need to do some shopping.” He stared at her and she sighed again. “That Coronavirus, Mulder, it’s… it’s going to be bad.

“What?”

“We need to go get some things, stock up on items, and then stay here for a while. We need to self-quarantine.” She stared at him and he looked at Faith, then back at her. She nodded and he exhaled.

Standing up, he picked up Faith and twirled her around. Scully stood up too, placing Bella in her kennel. He caught Scully’s eye again and she nodded, taking the list out of her pocket.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

They left the house, Scully filling him in on the articles she had read. He shook his head, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he exhaled.

“So, what’s happening? A vaccine?”

“No. It’s an unknown virus, so we don’t have a known vaccine, not yet. And one wouldn’t be available for a while. Honestly, with this administration, the way it has been presented… I don’t know what to think about anything. It’s best for us to be proactive and preemptive.”

“Yeah. We should call Skinner. Let him know too. He and Rachel were going to come over in a couple of weeks. If we’re in self-quarantine, it wouldn’t be smart to have them over. Plus, they should know to stock up too,” he said and she nodded in agreement as she reached for her phone.

They were systematic with their shopping; going to the warehouse center for things like toilet paper, hand soap, hand sanitizer, laundry soap, antibacterial wipes, diapers, wipes, and bottles of water. Large amounts of nonperishable food and some perishables were added, before they moved to another store for other items.

Baby food, dog food, a couple of boxes of latex gloves and face masks, alcohol, peroxide, bandages, and medicine for both them and Faith. They walked down the holiday aisle and Mulder grabbed random bags of chocolate, smiling at her as he did. She smiled back and reached for a small Easter basket, a pack of plastic eggs, and a pink floppy eared bunny, setting them in the cart for Faith. Just in case.

Most of the items on the list crossed off, they left the store and headed for home. Faith fell asleep on the way back and they left her in the car as they unloaded it, each of them walking in and out of the house. When they were finished, Mulder took her carefully from the car seat, and brought her upstairs to hopefully stay asleep for a little while.

He came back downstairs, and took Bella out to pee, before they began to take stock of what they had and what else they would need. They discussed if they should get another refrigerator, just to be safe.

“If it’s going to be a long time, Scully… I think it might be a good idea. We’ll run out of room in this fridge. Or maybe we upgrade this one and then move the old one to the basement.”

“I don’t think we need to bother with that, but an extra one in the basement would be a good idea. Something basic. This has really got me worried, Mulder. A virus… if not properly handled… thousands of people could die. Hundreds of thousands.” She shook her head and sighed deeply. He came over and held her, taking a deep breath as they stood quietly, both of them worried.

As the days progressed, the news was constantly playing in the background. She read many articles, sighing and shaking her head a lot. Things were not being handled properly and she could see the path it was going to take as a result of it.

They bought that new refrigerator and had it placed in the basement. It was filled with extra frozen foods and perishable items. They had everything they needed, all they could do was wait it out and be sure they were safe.

Being people who were comfortable at home, and ones who had been in many forced quarantines, they found the time together easy to endure. There were some days though, when they needed some time apart; a nap or a walk separately, and then they would come back feeling better.

“I’m glad Faith isn’t older and she’s happy and easily entertained with these simple activities,” Scully said one day, as they walked slowly down their road. Faith toddled along, touching flowers and picking up rocks, handing them to Scully with a smile. She smiled back and placed them into her pocket.

“I’m glad we don’t have to deal with school activities,” Mulder said with a sigh, holding onto Bella’s leash.

“Please, we’re both extremely intelligent. We could handle becoming her stand-in teachers for a little while,” she said with a scoff. “We teach her every day as it is.”

“Yes we do, I know that. But teach her that “new math”? I don’t think so, Scully,” he scoffed back and she laughed. “Seriously, have you seen it? It’s…” He shook his head and she laughed again.

“I think you would be very good at it,” she told him, looping her arm through his. “You see things differently than others, you always have. I’m sure “new math” would be a breeze.”

“Why thank you, but I’m content that it’s still a few years away. It gives me more time to prepare.” They both laughed and continued on their leisurely daily excursion.

Coming home, Scully emptied her pockets and set the rocks Faith had collected on their walk into the garden. She smiled as she did, knowing Faith would not remember them, but she would. She would remember this day, this time when things slowed down, and simple pleasures could be found together.

Dinner was eaten, a bath given, and books read before Faith was put down for the night. They came back downstairs, scrolled through Netflix for what felt like the millionth time, and found nothing that caught their eye. Mulder looked at her and she smiled, the remote cast aside as she climbed into his lap, and pressed her lips to his.

A new month began and with it more of the same. They did little projects around the house, went for walks, played with Faith, had picnics out in the yard, went for drives to the top of the hill, watching the stars at night and talking about nothing in particular.

And sex… they had a lot of sex.

Scully smiled as she watched Bella running around the yard, happy they had gotten the fence put up a couple of months ago.

“Bell,” Faith said, sitting beside her on the porch, pointing at Bella as Mulder threw the ball for her to chase.

“Yes, it’s Bella. Daddy and Bella are playing with the ball. It’s a green ball,” Scully answered, putting her arm around her.

“Bell. Ball.”

“Good girl. You’re so smart, my love,” she said, lifting her into her lap and holding her close, closing her eyes as she breathed in her baby scent.

She was hardly a baby anymore, at eighteen months old, but she still thought of her as her baby, even as she changed almost daily. She still saw the big blue-eyed baby girl, who looked at the world in wonder. She knew that would never change; she would always be her baby.

But, time truly did fly. Even if she wanted to slow it down, it would not. She looked at Faith’s hands, rubbing her small fingers, feeling all the bones under her skin, saying them under her breath from memory.

“Mama,” Faith said quietly and Scully smiled, wrapping her arms around her, rocking and humming softly. She kissed the top of her head and whispered she loved her.

Bella came up to the porch, the ball in her mouth, and dropped it down as she sat beside them. Her tongue lolled out as she panted tiredly and Faith laughed, reaching out to touch her head.

“Bell. Ball,” she said again, and Scully smiled as Bella licked her hand excitedly, her whole body wiggling.

“They are quite possibly the cutest duo. Aside from us, of course,” Mulder teased with a smile, as he stood at the bottom of the stairs. Scully smiled at him and he winked. “Think I’m gonna go for a run. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” she said with a nod. “We’re good here.”

“Great. I’ll go get changed.” He stepped past them and went inside to put on his running clothes.

“Good. I’m glad he’s leaving. We have something to make for Daddy while he’s gone. It’ll be a nice surprise for Easter tomorrow, my sweet,” Scully whispered in Faith’s ear. “We’ll have to be fast.”

As Mulder left, kissing them both goodbye, Scully got up and brought Faith and Bella into the house, and closed the door. Setting Faith down on the floor by her toys, she went into the office and opened the closet door, taking out the paper and art supplies she had bought.

Setting it down on the table, she looked over at Faith who was looking at her books, Bella lying tiredly on her dog bed. Smiling at them, she got the paper ready and then the paints. Picking up Faith, they washed their hands together, bringing the paper towels to the table.

“Now, we’re going to make something for your Daddy. And it’s going to be a little strange, but we’ll be as fast as we can,” Scully said, as they sat down at the table.

She picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into the bottle of paint, the color of a blue sky. Holding Faith’s right hand still, she painted her palm, and each finger. Faith tried to close her hand, but Scully kept her hand open, talking soothingly to her as she did.

“Okay, now, here we go.” She set the paintbrush down, brought the paper closer to them, and pressed Faith’s hand onto the middle of the paper, holding it down tightly. Lifting it slowly, she smiled as she saw the perfect handprint left on the paper.

“Uh oh,” Faith said, looking at her hand and showing it to Scully, who laughed softly.

“It’s okay, love. Look, we’ll just wipe it off.” She took some paper towels and wiped her hands clean, to Faith’s great astonishment. “See? All clean. But we aren’t done yet.”

Picking up a different paintbrush, she painted her little thumb white and pressed it to the paper, near the bottom. Wiping it clean, she painted her other fingers yellow, pressing the four of them, separately, beside the white thumbprint. Smiling, she carried her to the sink and washed her hands, removing any traces of the paint.

Twirling her around the room, she kissed her cheeks and tickled her, her giggles waking Bella, who stood up to see what all the fuss was about. Setting Faith on the floor, she gave Bella a pet, and handed Faith a book.

Stepping over to the table, she picked up the paint brushes and took them to the sink to rinse them off. When they were clean, she walked back to the table, dried the paint brushes off and closed up the paints they had used. Putting it all away, she moved the picture to a shelf to dry, a place Mulder would not look.

Coming back to the kitchen, she washed her hands and got a snack ready for Faith. She brought it over to her, and they sat together on the floor, eating as they played with her toys and read some books.

Mulder came home a few minutes later, sweaty and happy, heading upstairs for a shower. Scully smiled at Faith, knowing they had a secret for him that he would love when it was ready.

They had dinner, put Faith to bed, and as Mulder cleaned the kitchen, Scully took out the Easter basket she had picked out weeks ago, just in case. She set it on the table and put the pink bunny inside, along with an applesauce pouch, a pack of goldfish crackers, and a couple of the plastic eggs.

“Hide them inside or outside?” she asked as she turned to Mulder. He dried his hands and smiled as he walked over to her, pulling her in for an embrace.

“Quarantine be damned, we’re having Easter,” he said with a chuckle.

“You’re goddamn right. We need to celebrate the holidays, even if it’s only a small celebration,” she responded and he nodded.

“You’re right. I think inside would be best. It will either rain or be hot, so I think inside would be good.”

“Okay. Here,” she said, handing him half of the eggs, and they happily set about hiding them in places Faith could find them.

“You know, when I was younger and we dyed eggs, I always loved watching the tablet combine with the water and vinegar, the smell of it to this day, tied to those memories,” she said with a smile, remembering the sound of the tablet fizzing.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a smile of his own. “The woman who became a scientist, enjoyed watching a chemical reaction? Shocking.” She threw an egg at him and he laughed, placing it on the floor by the television.

“What was your favorite color of dye?” he asked and she smiled.

“Blue. I liked that it was so dark, you didn’t really know what color it was until you scooped it onto the spoon,” she said, thinking about those days of crowding around the table with coffee mugs full of dye, with a spoon in each one.

“A spoon? Didn’t you use that little egg hook thing?”

“One egg hook thing? Or even two? For four children?” She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and he laughed.

“Point taken,” he said, hiding the last egg as she did the same.

“Next year… next year we can dye eggs, but not this year,” she said with a sigh.

“No. This year would not be wise. Her age and the need for uncooked eggs.”

“Yeah,” she sighed again.

“Hey,” he said softly and she looked up at him. He smiled and she nodded.

“I know. I’m okay.”

He came over and wrapped his arms around her, both of them holding onto one another and sighing.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re safe, well supplied, no need to go out for a while, and we have protective covering for when we do,” he murmured into her hair and she nodded, holding him tight. Pulling back, she looked up at him and he smiled, bending his head to kiss her lips.

“Come on, let’s finish up anything down here and head to bed.”

“You go on up, there isn’t anything really to do down here,” she said, stepping back and looking around.

“Scully…”

“I want to send Louise an email and see how she’s doing. I know she’s with Marcus, but just wanted to check in and send her a few new pictures of Faith,” she told him with a smile.

“No news articles,” he warned her with his eyebrows raised and she nodded, stepping close and kissing him again.

“No. I promise.”

“Okay then." He smiled and squeezed her hand.

“I won’t be long,” she assured him and he nodded as he went upstairs.

When he was gone, she went into the office and opened the laptop, intent on actually sending Louise an email on top of her plan for Mulder’s gift. Typing out the email and selecting a couple of pictures, she sent it off with a smile.

Sticking to her promise, she closed the laptop and listened to hear if Mulder had come back downstairs. Finding it quiet, she took down the picture she had made with Faith, and set it on the desk.

With a green marker, she added a stem and petals to the blue handprint, turning it into a flower, and then drew grass all along the bottom of the paper. To the white thumbprint, she used a black marker and turned it into a bunny, adding ears, a face, whiskers, and a tail. The yellow fingerprints became little chicks with wings, beaks, and little stick legs.

At the top of the picture, she wrote Hoppy Easter. Smiling at it, she knew Mulder would get a kick out of it, as he did so love corny puns. At the bottom she wrote Love, Faith. 2020.

Standing up, she opened the closet and took out the frame she had purchased for it and had already cleaned. Setting the picture inside, she placed the back on the frame and turned it over, smiling as she looked at it. Putting it back in the closet until tomorrow, she cleaned up the markers, and turned off the light.

Putting Bella in her kennel, with a few good night pets, she headed upstairs to bed.

______

“Mama. Mama. Bell. Dada. Up.”

Scully opened her eyes to the sound of Faith speaking through the monitor. She smiled as she stretched and listened to her calling for them.

“Third choice,” Mulder said behind her. “She even asked for Bella over me.” Scully laughed and turned over to look at him, and he shook his head with a mock heavy sigh. “Third choice, Scully.” She laughed again and snuggled close, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Well, you're my first choice. Does that count for anything?” she teased, as he put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I guess." He sighed again, and she pinched him, causing him to yelp.

“Mama. Up. Mama,” Faith said again and he whined.

“Oh, stop it,” she said with a giggle, kissing his neck as she pulled away from him, and got out of bed.

Walking into Faith’s room, she found her lying sideways on her back, her feet up on the wall through the crib slats, as she continued to talk to herself. When she heard Scully’s voice, she turned over and scrambled to her feet with a huge smile.

“Mama,” she said, her arms out. “Up.”

“Good morning, my sweet girl,” she said, lifting her out of the crib and squeezing her tight. “Let’s change your diaper and we’ll go see Daddy.”

“Dada.”

“Yes!” They heard Mulder say from the bedroom and Scully laughed.

Changed and redressed, she brought her into their bed, Mulder reaching for Faith as she was set down. She crawled over to him and he pulled her up to lay on his chest. She put her head down and he stroked her hair, as Scully grabbed her phone to take some pictures.

“I was sure she was going to ask for Bella,” he said with a wink to Scully, who shook her head with a smile.

They all went downstairs a few minutes later, Mulder in front as Faith held onto the railing, going down the steps one at a time, as Scully followed behind.

“That’s it. You got it, sweetie. Hold on and take your time. Good girl,” Mulder said, grinning at her.

They made it down and he lifted her up, spinning her around, kissing her all over her face. She laughed and Bella barked excitedly in her kennel.

“Bell,” Faith said, pointing at her and then looking at Mulder. “Out.”

“Her vocabulary is expanding every day. I love to hear it,” he said and Scully agreed. “I’ll take Bella out and then we can eat, okay? Do you want to come outside with me?”

“Out,” she said with a nod.

“See?” Scully said with a grin. “She wants to be with you, you big baby.”

“Ha!” he answered as he Faith and opened the kennel. Bella licked them both with her usual happy body wiggle. “Or it’s because I’ve got Bell with me.”

“Shut up and take her outside,” she said, shaking her head with a smile.

“All right, let’s go ladies.” He opened the door and stopped as Bella ran out. He called Scully over and when she joined him, tears filled her eyes at what she saw.

On the porch, sat a large pink Easter basket filled with items, wrapped in cellophane, and Faith’s name written on an envelope with a bunny on it.

“That’s Skinner’s handwriting,” Mulder murmured and she nodded in agreement, wiping at her eyes. “Those two…” He shook his head as he reached for it and sighed.

“Wait,” Scully said. “I know they were most likely cautious, but let us be so as well.” She took out two gloves and slid them on, grabbing the basket and setting it to the railing as they stepped out onto the porch.

“I wonder when he did this,” she said, reaching for the card and opening it. “Happy Easter, little one. Didn’t seem right to not get you something, despite what’s going on in the world, so here’s a few gifts from Uncle Walter and Auntie Rachel. Everything has been sanitized and wrapped while we wore gloves and masks. We love and miss you.” Mulder…” She took a shaky breath and used her shirt to wipe her eyes.

“Well, Faithy… you really are a very loved little girl. We will need to call them later,” he said, emotion in his voice. She nodded and let out a breath.

“I’ll take this inside and unwrap it. Throw the ball for Bella for a few minutes, get some of her energy out. I’ll bring Faith her milk,” she told him, carrying the basket inside and setting it on the floor.

Setting the card on the table, she took out some scissors and cut the cellophane off and threw it away. Looking at what was inside the basket, she shook her head with a smile. A couple of books, some large toddler sized crayons, a coloring book, snacks they knew she liked, a puzzle, and a few plastic Easter eggs. There was also a bag of dark chocolate eggs and a bag of sunflower seeds with a note that read: For Mommy and Daddy.

Shaking her head again, she took off her gloves, threw them away, and washed her hands. Taking out a disinfectant wipe, she wiped the handle and the bottom of the basket, before setting it on the table. She looked over at the front door and saw Mulder holding Faith and throwing the ball for Bella. Seeing her window of opportunity, she hurried into the office and took out the picture for him, setting it on the table, with a candle behind it to hold it up.

She filled Faith’s cup with milk and brought it out to her, then went back inside to get breakfast ready. As she finished mixing the batter for pancakes, the door opened and Bella rushed in to get some water. Scully turned with a smile to greet them and instead she gasped in surprise.

Mulder was walking toward her with two vases of an assortment of wildflowers in his hands and a smile on his face. Faith walked in front of him, holding her cup of milk in her hands.

“What? Where did you get those? You didn’t go out to a shop?” she asked, walking toward him and he shook his head.

“No. I wouldn’t have done that.”

“Then where… down the road,” she said with a smile as it came to her, and he nodded.

“And up the hill,” he added, and she shook her head.

“When you went on your run? And you hid them in the shed?” she asked and he winked with a nod. “Sneaky man. I love them.” Placing her hands on his chest, she raised up to kiss him.

“Speaking of sneaky, what is this?” he asked, as he set the vases on the table.

“Faithy, want to show Daddy your present for him?” she asked, picking her up and sitting down at the table as Mulder joined her and picked up the picture.

“Uh oh,” Faith said, pointing at the picture and Scully laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s what she said when I painted her hand to get the handprint for the flower,” she explained with another chuckle. “Her hand was covered in paint and she showed it to me, and said uh oh.” He chuckled with her and stroked Faith’s face.

“Hoppy Easter. Like a bunny. I love it.”

“Of course you do,” she said, rolling her eyes with a smile.

“It’s a very beautiful uh oh,” he said, with a kiss to Faith’s head. “Thank you, Squatch. Now it’s your turn. Here, honey.”

He pulled the basket Scully had filled last night closer to her and let her examine it. She reached for the goldfish crackers first, and handed them to Mulder.

“More,” she said and signed for them. He laughed and opened them, letting her take one from the bag. She shoved it in her mouth and wiggled her body.

“I should wash my hands,” he said, handing her the bag of crackers. “I rinsed them outside, but I should wash them.” He stood up and went to the sink as Faith ate a few more crackers.

“How about this, my love?” Scully asked, taking the pink bunny from the basket. “It’s a bunny. A pink bunny.” She handed it to Faith and she stared at it and then hugged it, before staring at it again.

“Buh-e,” she said, looking at Scully, and lifting the bunny. “Buh-e.”

“Yes. A bunny. Such a good girl,” she said, holding her close, a smile on her face.

She discovered the eggs and then Scully set her down so she could find the others around the room. Breakfast forgotten for the time being, they all went on an egg hunt, even rescuing one from Bella who had already chewed most of it, causing Mulder to check her mouth for green plastic pieces. Shaking his head, he tossed the egg in the trash and washed his hands again.

“Whatever we missed, we’ll see again soon, I’m sure,” he said with a sigh and Scully laughed with a nod.

Her phone rang, and then the iPad. Mulder grabbed it and the basket off the table, joining them on the living room floor. Pushing the green accept button, they saw Walter and Rachel waving happily to them. Faith stood up and peered closely into the screen, causing them all to laugh.  

Excited words tumbled out from both parties, everyone happy to see each other. Faith smiled at them and waved, looking close at the screen a few times. She opened her gifts and looked in amazement at all of them, spending a long time looking at the book with animals, and they all smiled as they watched her.

Despite the happiness, there remained an undercurrent of worry in everyone’s eyes and the way they would sigh heavily at times. For a little while however, that was pushed to the background as they did something normal, in spite of their distance from one another. They teased, laughed, and caught up, happy to know there was another out there, in a world that for the moment, felt so small and isolating.

They would get through this by being apart, and next year they would all get together.

With a large basket full of brightly colored dyed eggs.

And a ham. And mashed potatoes.

[vangoddamn]

Play me a song

Part 3 - Bondy

Warning: more smut (it's gettin hot in here) cause why not?

The light streamed through, breaking me from the peace I was once in. His arm lay across my stomach and his curls sat wilder than ever over his eyes. The silence was broken by soft murmurs on his side and a small wriggle into me.

Our bodies were still obscenely bare and his skin was soft against mine, except the slight stubble that was brushing chest. I secretly didn't mind the burn. I wished we could stay like that forever and never have to face a single sole again. I knew we had three sinarios of how the day played out, one, the lads would know either by my screams or the fact Johnny would walk out of my room that morning. Two, they would be too tired to notice and we'd have to tell them, or not, but let's be honest I'm shit at lying. Or scinario three, I stay in bed all day or jump out the window.

Before I could guess, Bondy woke, kissing my cheek tenderly before pulling me into his arms. My stomach crumbled completely with every touch and sleepy look he gave me from beneath his lashes.

"hiya" I smiled into his chest breathing his scent in and wrapping my arms around him.

"how about a bath?" His whisper was croaky and needy, and how I wanted to soothe it. It was quite early no later than 7:00 and I wondered how long I could stay with him before we had to face the rest of the house.

"I'd love one!" With that I leept up to go to run the bath forgetting my nakedness, feeling a blush coat my face when he chuckled and smacked my ass when I walked past, trying to repress my giggle.

The bathroom was fully stocked with bubble bars and bombs, something I thought Van had something to do with. I made quick work of filling the bath with hot bubbly water that looked almost magical. Calling Johnny I slipped into the dreamy suds, acclimatising to the heat.

"what a sight" he smirked before slipping in too, with which I could've returned the comment.

Once he had settled I moved so that I lay on his chest, arms wrapped around me, playing with my fingers as they intertwined.

"I could get used to this" he sighed, making my heart stop for a fraction. I really hadn't been thinking, forgetting that for him he may not want to be anything more than friends and that I may just be another floozy to have around.

I bit my lip down hard thinking wether or not to ask or just leave it be. But he sensed my tensed by and moved my face with his fingers so that I looked at him.

"what's wrong sugar?" He seemed sad with my state.

I contemplated not answering, but that would be near impossible looking into his eyes like that. "What's going to happen, you know, when we see the lids.... or even after recording?"

His expression changes into something I could only describe as releived as he tucked me under his arms again stroking my sides with his hands. "I guess it'll be normal, except you'll finally be mine" with that a thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach and I had to fight hard not to jump a little with excitement.

I turned, so I was straddling him, leaning my forehead on his. "You best not be joking with me Jonathan Bond!" I stared deep into him hoping that he wouldn't falter.

"I'd never"

His words were soft and unexpected, although it was short he laced them with so much meaning I couldn't help but lean in for a much needed kiss. I relaxed once his hands rested on my hips and our tongues met within our messy kiss. I didn't realise that I was rocking my hips against him making him moan with the friction between us.

"fuck" I groaned, before I knew it he had lifted me out of the water and laying me down onto the bed. But unlike the night before I was already craving every inch of his body to be as close as possible to mine.

I rolled on top, kissing all the way down to his torso, and then to his member which was already to attention. I licked a clean swipe from the base and lowered my mouth down so he was at the back of my throat and almost gagging. His fingers found my hair soon after, noticing the pre cum I slowly retracted back to my spot on his hips.

"your fucking perfect" his murmurs in my ear was enough to make myself lower onto him, for the second time filling me up taking my breath away. I could every ridge and bump as he filled all my senses. I could smell the residue of the bath and his sweat on his skin from our passion, and I could feel his soft slightly damp skin. My arms reached either side of his head grasping onto his tangled hair.

"god.." I moaned in his ear, kissing into the crook of his neck whilst his hands roamed my frame, one hand attaching to my breast massaging tenderly and the other on my hip, easing a groan from me.

His hand left my chest gohsting over a mark on my neck he'd left last night. "This is so sexy" he whispered, leaning in to kiss me open mouthed and breathy again, whilst each thrust became deeper and found your spot. His hand now trailed down rubbing my clit, helping me along, as if he wasn't helping enough.

I straightened my body and let my hands run down his body, taking in every inch that I'd missed before. The closeness between us was intoxicating and I felt like I was in pure bliss.

Every moan and cry brought us nearer but I clung on not letting either one of us go, wanting it to last longer. That was until I heard a creek outside and my eyes widened stopping my movements instantly.

"shh, it's alright" Bondy whispered, pulling my head down to gently kiss him again. I slowly started my rytham against him again trying to forget about the possibility of being heard.

Our pace was quickly brought back up to speed and it wasn't long until his hips were rutting against mine and it was more of a struggle not to call out his name and the top of my lungs.

"fuck, when I get us alone.....I'll scream so loud-" I tried to speak but my words got cut short by an orgasm so intense it muted me for a second causing me to have to muffle my whimpers in his chest.

"come on doll, finish for me" his pleads were breathy and it drifted across my cheek. I carried on rising him bringing him to his high and riding us both out.

I could feel him fill me and he let a deep sigh after his release, allowing my to flop into his arms, still in top of him. The tiredness that overcame me made me want to be in his arms forever.

"I'm so glad I'm yours" I sighed before he slide out, kissing my nose.

"I'm glad too" he smiled back, walking to collect a pair of underwear and PJ's for me to slip into before breakfast. "Now I'm starving" he smiled into a kiss pulling me to get dressed.

To say I was nervous was and understatement, the teasing that would come would be unbearable and I was scared to say the least. After Johnny found some clothes from his room, we wandered down to the kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed but as soon as the others caught glimpse of me a sly smile was apparent on each of their faces.

"someone got some last night" Van teased first, testing the water, ultimately causing a red hughe to be painted on my face. Weirdly Johnny was calm as ever making toast for the both of us, refilling his depleted stamina.

"shut up Van" I groaned punching his arms.

"y/n, I'd stick up for ya I would but, god you do scream" Larry piped up behind me embarrassing me even more.

"sorry, but if I'm not mistaken, she's the only one out of yous who's gettin some other than Benji." Bob chuckled leaning into my side sympathising.

If that didn't shut them up it was how all Johnny did was smirk at the lads and bring me to sit in his lap on one of the sofas the lads were already sat on. It was like normal, our close proximity, but this time he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear.

"I'm never getting sick of this" arms wrapping tighter around my body I relaxed and forgot about the rest of the world and focused on his breathing and the way he caressed my skin.

<<<<part 2

A/n: lol they really do be cute though. Don't we all wish we had a Bondy in our lives?! Anyway hope you enjoyed my lovelies xx Em

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

A magically spooky adventure in the woods

Pippa and Mariposa are back at the camp for a magical adventure! Angie and Willow are with us as well, making it the first of hopefully many fun camping trips for Team Magic. Hopefully next time Luna and Skully - and maybe even Cassie, in an unexpected turn of events.

After having a great time during her first gyroid adventure, Pippa wanted to design her own gyroid themed furniture so she and Daisy Jane have been working on that for the past few months. Then Mariposa got involved with planning the event and it went from a fun scavenger hunt in the campsite to an all out adventure in the Moonlit Woods! So along with collecting gyroids we're also collecting trinkets and herbs for Luna and Skully since the woods are full of them during this time of year.

It's also a good excuse to explore this area since we rarely go out this far. Tom Nook warned us that the Moonlit Woods can be tricky to navigate, which is why I've been kinda avoiding that spot. There's still a lot of places outside the camp we have yet to explore and now that I've gotten familiar with the camping grounds after three years of living here, it's time to venture into the unknown.

I'm glad that Pippa's enjoying the camp. Since she and Almie first made the trip here Almie had been saying that being out here has lifted up her spirits a lot. Visiting the camp, training with Luna, and becoming friends with Mariposa, Angie, and Willow has helped her come out of her shell a lot. Things have been looking bright for her - she's doing well in school, her latest blood work is promising, and she's learning more and more about her magic every day.

Mariposa's the one who brought Team Magic together. Pippa and Angie were sort of loners, Willow part of the popular crowd, and Mariposa's the new kid in town. In the short time she's been in Rosevine, Mariposa has shaken things up for Luna and the gang in ways they never expected. She and Pippa haven't known each other for long but it seems like they've been friends forever!

A lot has happened since I last saw them at Emmaline and Minnie's wedding. Luna and Cassie have reached a truce so now they're trying to reconcile. The gyroid event happened to be perfect timing as Mariposa and the others felt it was best to give the sisters some space and privacy. No one really knows how they feel about Cassie but they're willing to hear her out, especially since she willingly threw away everything she worked hard to help Luna, Skully, and Mariposa. Cassie always struck me as someone who wants to bring out the best in others but at the same time won't hesitate to walk all over them to get ahead.

Angie's been coming out of her shell too. Now she's been doing some training with Luna and her magic has tremendously improved. She and Pippa were the kind of friends who mainly stuck together because they didn't fit in anywhere else. It's not that they didn't get along but they were just kinda shoved to the side and ignored by everyone else. Then Mariposa came along and they became notorious for getting caught up in magical shenanigans. It's good to see her perform spells with confidence!

Willow was an unexpected surprise. She comes from a powerful family so she and her siblings carry the weight of their family name. Before Mariposa came along Willow wasn't exactly friendly towards Pippa and Angie. She didn't antagonize them like some of her friends did but more like gave them the cold shoulder and walked all over them for her own personal gain. Turns out that she and Mariposa started off on the wrong note because Willow felt threatened by her. But after a few more missteps Willow grew to like her, and in turn she made amends with Angie and Pippa.

If the timing of the gyroid event wasn't already good, the fact that Willow's parents are out of town is even better. If her parents were home, they probably wouldn't let her come out here. Good thing Emmy and Eddie aren't strict, plus they like Mariposa so they're more than happy to let their baby sister go out on a week long camping trip, even if she has to hobble around in crutches.

Although she can't go climbing and running around, Willow didn't miss out too much on the fun. Not too long after the wedding shenanigans happened and Willow managed to save the day but took a nasty fall in the process. Basically, she landed in a way that not only badly broke her leg but also messed up her back a bit as well. So for a couple weeks she had to use a wheelchair until her legs felt normal again and since last week she's only needed crutches to get around.

We arrived at the woods around 9 so we can make the most out of the day. The thing with these gyroids is that they're easy to miss, especially in a place like the Moonlit Woods. Rare gyroids are always in places that are either difficult to navigate or hard to get to, which is why they're rare. I've rarely come across gyroids that can glow and I've never seen gyroids that can turn transparent like a ghost. It seems fitting for something like that to only be found in a place like the Moonlit Woods.

What I've learned about the woods is that you can't let it outsmart you. Another reason why the stars have aligned for this event is because of Team Magic. Whatever challenges the woods throws at us, the girls always find a way.

Angie's the expert at herbal magic, no cluster of overgrown weeds and thorns is too difficult for her to untangle. Like I said, she's really improved with her magic, especially since discovering not too long ago that she has an innate connection with plants. I can also see that Mariposa has been taking Luna's training to heart, connecting with nature and conjuring spells with the elements. Pippa's magic is different from Willow and Angie's because she's not a witch like they are, but like Mariposa she's found ways to apply Luna's guidance with what works for her. The three of them make a great team!

While searching for treasures, we came across a bunch of signs scattered throughout the woods. We got curious so Mariposa and Pippa decided to try and translate the symbols. The codes turned out to be clues left behind by someone who embarked on a quest to find the ultra rare cocostar tree. Of course, we had to go out and find the tree too because none of us can resist a quest!

According to an old journal left in a log by the explorer, the cocostar tree is a valuable resource. The bark can be used for tea and potions, the tea is believed to relax those in  distress and extreme emotional turmoil as well as stomach troubles in general. The fruit of the tree is edible, the taste described as sweet with a browned caramel flavor, good to pair with sweet and savory foods. The leaves are also edible and is said to have a distinct, bittersweet flavor that's good for cooking and making tea.

What puts many off from exploring the woods is how unpredictable it is to navigate. Retracing your steps would drive you crazy because the paths always change. A lot of things about the woods don't make much sense so we just have to accept that. In this case, it makes the adventure a lot more fun!

So while collecting gyroids, we stocked up on berries. Mariposa carved light glyphs in the dirt so we can see where we're going. Angie was able to communicate with the plants and use them as a guide. Willow used her crutches to test out some areas that looked like they might be full of pitfall seeds, saving us a lot of trouble in the process. Pippa researched the codes and puzzles scattered throughout the woods.

By putting our heads together, we managed to find the elusive cocostar tree! Mariposa was the first to spot the tree, a happy accident as she misfired a light orb while we were fighting off vines that ambushed us in the dark. The explorer was right, the tree is massive! The fruit is unlike anything I've ever seen before - it looks more like a fancy dessert than something that grew from a tree. Because the tree's so big, there's more than enough fruit for us to experiment with and for the girls to take back to Rosevine. It took a lot of work, but we did it!

Getting out of the Moonlit Woods was an adventure itself. Since we didn't expect to go on a cocostar tree quest, I wasn't sure how we were gonna lug all this stuff out. Of course, Team Magic found a way to carry the extra stuff that can't fit into backpacks. We'll be back in a couple days to retrieve more gyroids and maybe go on another quest if we stumble across something.

As soon as we got back to the camp, we got to work crafting gyroid stuff and trying out the cocostars. Pippa and Daisy Jane really outdid themselves with the gyroid designs and now the others want to help plan future events. Looks like the camp's all set for gyroid events in the next few months. I can't wait to see what kind of designs the others will come up with!

After spending all day in the woods, it's nice to hang out at the campsite and relax. Since Angie and Willow didn't really get to explore the hangout spots today, that's what we're gonna do tomorrow.

[miraclealignersv]

Half a Plan (Lewis Nixon x Reader)

Ask: Hello! I love your stories so much 😩 could I request one that’s post war, where Nix and the reader get into and argument over something dumb but both are too stubborn to talk to each and apologize so winters tries to mediate 

a/n: Y’all this is long as fuck. But I hope you enjoy, I loved writing this tbh. Also sorry that I took forever to post, college is uh...also I apologize for any grammar mistakes I tried to edit this as fast as I could so there might be some errors. Thank you so much for your request I hope you enjoy!

Tag list: @gottapenny @bandofmarvels @wexhappyxfew @medievalfangirl @starryrevelations

There were so many things that could be done in an hour, Dick winters could think of many things. Instead of sitting on the maroon couch in Lew’s apartment he thought of the book on his nightstand, he hadn't gotten around to reading it. In that hour he could've easily read a couple pages, maybe get a decent meal from the small restaurant down the street of his apartment. He could've even gone to the theatre and enjoyed a show. But instead, he spent his Saturday night stuck in the middle of y/n and lew’s argument.

“I know, God knows I know you're a busy man Lewis. But how in the hell did you forget our anniversary dinner!” y/n closed her eyes and exhaled softly trying to stay calm and collected, trying to mask the excessive anger and rage within her. 

Dick felt bad for her, she gushed to him about the blue dress she had bought for the occasion specifically. She was so excited, y/n bragged about a new hairstyle and the gift she had gotten him. She was excited to celebrate the three years they had spent together over a nice dinner. But instead, she showed up at Dick’s door and dragged him to Lewis’ apartment. And there they found the man of the hour, half awake. Dick said a silent prayer as she watched steam flow out of y/n’s ears, and so it started. 

“You're overreacting y/n, we can still go out and catch a film” Lewis reasoned, his voice slightly going up in pitch as he looked over to Dick, a pleading look in his eye. Almost as if he was asking for a little bit of support, y/n caught sight of the wonder of his eyes and slowly turned to Dick as well. If you were to ask anyone if Dick Winters was afraid of anything, everyone would say he had no fears. But if you asked Dick Winters himself, he would say that a pissed of y/n y/l/n terrified him. 

“...huh?’’ dick cleared his throat before slowly shaking his head, his gaze skipping over from his best friends pleading look over to the small yet terrifyingly angry woman. Swallowing hard, Dick took a deep breath and glanced down to his lap where his intertwined fingers sat. “She’s not overreacting Lew’’ he lifted his gaze just enough to see Lew sigh and close his eyes, y/n slowly nodding with a satisfied look on her face. 

“See,” y/n motioned over to Dick who ducked his head down and heard a deep exhale from Lewis before walking towards the stocked ‘mini’ bar. Y/n and Dick both watched the man grab a hold of one of the glasses, setting it on the small surface before reaching for the bottle of whiskey. “Lewis…’’ she started, her voice trailing off as he poured a bit of the paint thinner he loved so much, a smirk on his lips as he brought it up to his lips and took a sip from it. 

“You can see yourself out, I’m going to bed” Lewis shrugged before walking back towards the hallway of the apartment, leaving both y/n and Dick shocked as to what had happened. Dick could hear the thump of y/n’s heart, physically he could see the waves of heat that radiated from her. Standing up too quick, he placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her from walking behind Lew.

“I’m going to smack him, Dick’’ she angrily whispered she tried to go around the poor redhead. He knew that Lewis forgetting about their anniversary was bad. But he also knew that if y/n got to him she would leave Lewis Nixon emotionally unstable. 

“Hey, hey, look I'll talk to him,” Dick assured, y/n only closed her eyes and reached into the pocket of her coat. She pulled out a box and dropped it on the coffee table. The sudden anger in her eyes instead of turning into sadness. “Do you want me to, erm, prepare him for the worst?’’ his voice was low, but y/n knew damn well what ‘the worst’ meant. 

“Give him that for me please,” she whispered as she grabbed her bag from the couch Dick was previously sitting on. She gave him a small sad smile before turning towards the door of the apartment, instead of leaving she turned to Dick. “I’m not going to leave him, Dick’’ she reassured before walking out of the apartment and shutting the door behind her. A sigh of relief leaving his mouth, his big concern being that maybe y/n had had enough. Only he knew that Lewis had a very expensive engagement ring hidden in his sock drawer, a secret he had known for the past very long year.

“Is she leaving me?’’ Lewis’ voice called after y/n had walked out, Dick sighed before bringing his hands over his face. “How bad did I fuck up?” he called again, this time he stood in the hallway and watched the tall stressed man groaning softly into his hands.

“Oh Nix,” he sighed before pulling his hands away from his face “She is beyond mad, I thought she was going to murder us both” Dick admitted, his voice low as Lewis sighed deeply and reflected on his angry girlfriend. 

“That bad, huh?’’

*

Two days had gone by, two days of Lewis camping out in Dick’s apartment. Slumped over Dick’s couch next to the telephone, calling Y/n every thirty minutes and y/n never picking up. A low groan leaving Lew’s mouth as he hung up the phone again, Dick glanced up from his newspaper and shook his head.

“And you're sure she said she wasn't going to leave me?’’ he asked, Dick sighed and flipped the page. He thought back to the night at the apartment, he clearly remembered y/n stopping before stepping a foot out the door. Dick looked over to his best friend, his hair all ruffled up and stubble growing in. A raised eyebrow on the mans face as he waited for Dick’s response. “Dick?’’ he asked as Dick raised his eyebrow himself and clicked his tongue.

Standing up fast he walked over to Lewis and pulled him off the couch, Lewis confused as to what was happening stumbled and exclaimed as he was pushed through Dick’s living room. “Go home, take a shower and shave. I have half a plan” Dick shoved Lew’s coat into his arms and watched the man before him stare at him like a confused puppy. After a while, Lewis finally sighed and dropped his head. 

“Well, at least its something-hey!’’ Dick reached into the pocket of the coat and pulled out the velvet ring box. A small smile creeping onto his face as he pushed lewis out of the apartment and shut the door. Dick winters might of had half a plan, but it was something.

*

Walking through the hallways of her apartment complex, y/n hummed a soft tune as she fished her keys out of her bag. The sleeves of her coat only making it harder to reach the nooks and crannies of the very small black purse. Turning just enough she saw a familiar redhead approach her, a sigh left her mouth as she blew the hair that had gotten on her face.

“Please tell me he’s not crying, drunk and singing” she sighed, Dick only shook his head as he heard the jingling. He instead pulled the velvet box from his pocket and held it in his hand, y/n staring at it and back at him. “Is that..” she trailed off as she watched him open the box and chuckle.

“You know he made me accompany him, a year ago to be exact’’ he sighed and flipped the box just enough for her to see. Her eyes traveling down to his hand, the shine of the diamond catching her eye as she held her hand to her chest. “He was going to ask last year, he didn’t think any of the rings were perfect enough’’ Dick shrugged as he watched her eyes glass over, her mouth slightly opened at the sight of the expensive engagement ring.

“He uh, he wanted the perfect ring for you. So he spent weeks thinking about the ring, nearly pulled his own hair out. In the end, after months of perfecting it, he finally had the perfect ring.’’ Dick smiled at the memory, he was glad that the beans were spilled after a year of holding in the secret. Y/n reached and grasped the small box in her hand, the silver diamond ring staring at her in the face. “The ten smaller diamonds around the band are for the ten months you two were together in the war, the oval diamond shape because he remembered that you gushed over his mother’s ring. He thought of everything y/n, and he's waiting outside with an apology’’ he shrugged, y/n felt a tear stream down her cheek.

 Her face slowly lifting to meet the tall man in front of her. A small chuckle leaving her mouth before leaning in and wrapping her arms around him, “Thank you” she whispered before pulling away. 

Dick shook his head and watched her wipe the tears with the sleeve of her coat, a smile on her face as she giddily tried to stop crying. “Go, he’s going to freeze out there” Dick joked as he pushed her, y/n only giggled and walked down the hallway before turning around to see Dick with a satisfied smile on his face. Maybe, after all, he would go back to his place and finish the book on his nightstand. He did good, even if it was just half a plan. 

[the-writing-dump-bin]

Could I request some vampire Jotaro x fem reader? Possibly nsfw? Please and thank you 😊

Sorry it took me so long to get to this! Hope this was what you were looking for.

NSFW 18+

It wasn't Jotaro's intention on going to the Halloween party thrown by the college's party committee, but he went when he heard you may be there.

You and Jotaro weren't in the same classes, he knew you from the few friends he had. But with the few times he hung out with you, the more he felt drawn to you, especially when you playfully flirted with him. Many other women hung off him like parasites, but none of them were compared to you. Your looks was an added bonus to what pulled you to him, what really attracted him was the sweet metallic scent of the blood coursing through your veins.

He had a deep secret he kept hidden from everyone; Jotaro was a vampire. Thankfully, he was tolerant of the sun for an extended period of time, not bringing any suspicion on what he could be. He was lucky enough to be associated with the Speedwagon Foundation who would stock him with a supply of blood for him to feast on rather than hunting for it and attack helpless humans. But there was something about your scent that he wanted bad.

When he finally caught your scent, he knew that you were at the party. Breaking from the group he was kind of standing with, he roamed in search of you.

There you were, dressed in whatever costume you picked for the event; you looked amazing in it. "Hey." He said, discreetly brushing your arm. "Nice costume."

You smiled, looking him up and down. He didn't seem dressed up, still looking like the regular Jotaro Kujo you knew. But there was something more...charming about him tonight. "Thanks." You said. "And you're dressed as...a marine biologist student?"

Jotaro shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm not one to dress up." He opened his mouth slightly, exposing a fang. "I'm a marine biologist who is also a vampire."

His confession wasn't taken seriously, being Halloween and all. You thought it was just his small attempt at looking festive. Leaning in closer to his mouth, you inspected his fang. "Wow. It looks so real."

You being so close to him drove him wild, but he had to remind himself to be calm and collected. "W-Would you like a drink?" He softly took your hand in his.

The feeling wasnt that cold, but when Jotaro grabbed your hand, a chill ran down your spine. What was it that was making you feel this way? You always liked Jotaro and developed a steady friendship with him. But there was this strong aura that was making him very mysterious and alluring tonight. "S-Sure..."

~

The party grew a little more wilder as the night progressed.

After a few drinks, you and Jotaro started growing a little more closer. Neither of you were drunk to not know what was going on, just enough for one of you to be bold to make the first move.

You were sitting on his lap in the corner. There was only one chair vacant, so Jotaro suggested that you sit on his lap if you needed to rest your legs from standing. Smiling, you climbed on, wrapping your arms around his neck. "There is something about you tonight..." You confessed. "You feel a little different from the other times we hung out."

Jotaro held his breath a little. He knew what that feeling was. He wasn't doing it on purpose, but his vampiric essence was calling out to you, pulling you into a spell. His cheeks pinked a little. He didn't want you to be intoxicated like that, he wanted you to want him like any other man; for who he is, not what he is.

Your eyes softened, becoming half lidded as you brought up your hand to caress his jawline. "The other girls are right; you are very handsome." Your mind felt clouded, face coming so close to his. Lips ghosting across his, you moved to straddle him.

Jotaro would be lying if this wasn't what he wanted. He pursed his lips to catch yours brushing his, kissing you slowly. The kiss lasted only a second when he realized that you and him were out in the open. With his alluring power, he had to stop you before anything more could happen. Moving you off his lap, he stood up. "We shouldn't do this." He walked away from you without another word and left the party.

You stood there, confused about what just happened. At first, you thought things were going well, things finally progressing with Jotaro then suddenly he just left. Did he not feel the same way? Did you read him wrong? Did you do something wrong? You walked out a few minutes after him. If you made him uncomfortable, then you had to apologize. You didn't want to ruin the friendship that you two had.

~

Jotaro went to his room the moment he walked into his apartment, feeling like a fool for what he did. But it had to happen.

He sighed heavily when he caught your scent again, you were approaching his door. Please just go away. He thought. As bad as that sounded, he was too ramped up to be near you right now.

"Jotaro?" You called after you knocked. "Are you home? I want to talk to you." The door opened a crack, just enough to see his sea-green eyes peek through. "Hey." You smiled.

"I'm not feeling well." He grunted. "Come back another time."

You stopped the door from closing. "Jotaro, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there." Your cheeks heated up. "I... I thought maybe you liked me. I mean, I like you, so I thought you felt the same and that's why I was moving in to kiss you."

Jotaro half listened to you as you rambled. You liked him too? Maybe you were just saying that because of his alluring power to him. "You like...me?"

You nodded bashfully. "I feel like I understand you more than anyone else. You're a brute and short with people, but I see the kind, caring side of you that no one else sees."

The door opened a little more, revealing more of his bulky frame. "That's why you like me?" He reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you inside.

"Yes." You said, hooking a finger on one of his belts. Looking up at him, you stood on your tip toes to try and give him a kiss, in which he bent down to help you get to his lips. In the midst of the kiss, your tongue danced with his; feeling something sharp when your tongue glided across his teeth. "Ouch." You pulled away and noticed the fangs in his mouth. "Jotaro, you didn't take out those yet?"

Jotaro closed his eyes, his forehead on yours. He wasn't one for skirting around the truth. If he wanted this to happen, if he wanted you, then he had to be truthful. "Y/N... If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out? Promise not to speak a word of it to anyone?"

Pressing your body closer to his, you breathed out 'of course' as you worked his belts loose. You felt your heart strings be pulled, he trusted you enough to share a secret with you.

"These fangs aren't fake. They're very real." He stopped your hands and made you look up at him right in the eyes. "I'm an actual vampire."

You blinked, letting his words bounce in your head, then snickered. "Heh heh, yeah good one. Staying in character for this? I didn't peg you as someone who liked role play." You unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper. "But I'll take it; sounds exciting."

"No, Y/N, you're not listening to me. I am a vampire. I drink blood to sustain myself. Here, look." He brought you to his room where he kept a mini fridge, hidden from view. Opening it, he revealed the bags of blood that he gets from the Speedwagon Foundation.

Standing there, you laugh nervously. "Y-You're a real joker, JoJo. Trying to scare me because its Halloween?"

"No, absolutely not." The last thing he wanted was to scare you. He placed his hands on your arms. "Look." He opened his mouth, showing you his teeth. He retracted the fangs then brought them out again.

"Wh-" It was finally hitting you that maybe he wasn't joking.

"I thought all night that I had been pulling you in with my power, and maybe I did, but I can't help it... I actually have feelings for you." He blushed, hiding his face so you wouldn't see. "The way your blood smells, it drives me crazy."

You were scared. The way he was talking made you want to run out of his apartment and hide. But it also made your stomach flip with excitement. "Prove it." You found yourself saying.

"What?"

"You said you're an 'actual vampire'. Prove it."

He nervously went to the mini fridge and pulled out a bag. Grabbing a glass he kept nearby, he filled it.

The contents of the glass looked legit as you watched the thickness pour from the bag. Before he even put it to his lips, he held it towards you. The metallic scent hit your nose like a brick wall; it was definitely blood.

You shook where you stood, holding your breath while you watched him down every drop. "This... I'm dreaming..."

Jotaro shrugged. He figured something like this would happen. He scared you. "Okay, I get it if you are frightened of me now, and I understand if you dont want to be near me anymore. I just... I just ask you keep this quiet from everybody else."

How was this possible? Before tonight, you thought vampires were a thing of tales, but one standing before you proves that they are definitely real. You could see the embarrassment and shame on his face. Jotaro didnt want to hurt you, he loved you. And you loved him, falling for him before you found out about this. "Jotaro...?"

He turned to your call, watching you shuffle towards him.

Putting a hand on his chest, you pressed yourself against him again. "I don't care if you're a vampire. I fell in love with you. Yes, this is a lot to process, but I think its something I can look past."

Jotaro felt his heart swell with adoration. He was glad that you wanted him for who he was. He smiled, flashing his fangs again. "You're one in a million." He lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you to his bed. Once he had you on your back, he kissed you as he slowly peeled your clothes off.

You tugged at his clothes as well, pulling his shirt up and over his head. You could taste the blood that he drank on his lips, making you shudder; it was oddly arousing. Once naked, the two of you went under the blankets just enough that it covered only your bottoms halfs.

Through subtle grinding of hips and kisses, you felt Jotaro grow hard on top of you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your breasts every time he felt a pulse of excitement. The sounds of heavy panting from both of you filled the room. Occasionally, a tiny whimper would escape your mouth when Jotaro tweaked a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hand traveled down his side, reaching at the thick member between his legs, pumping him from base to tip. Damn, that thing is long. Looking him dead in the eyes, you used the tip if his cock to rub your clit, pleasure blatant on your face. Beads of pre cum spilled onto it, making you even wetter.

Jotaro bit his lip, his fang piercing his skin. "That feels so good..." He grunted. "Can I enter you? I need to feel you from the inside."

You nodded, adjusting your hips and spreading your legs wider, hooking them around his waist while he inched his way into your pussy. Arching your back, the feeling was amazing; walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

He started moving, sliding in and out of you with a steady pace. His lips left yours, moving down to your neck where he used his tongue to lick over a vein. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "You just smell delicious."

A smile painted across your face. "If you want," you said, mind in a haze from the pleasure you were feeling. "You can have a taste."

Jotaro brought his head up, looking at you as he continued to fuck you, not stopping or faltering. "You don't really want that."

"I wouldn't suggest it if I wasn't okay with it. I trust you not to hurt me. Just, think of me as a snack." You giggled.

Oh, Jotaro always thought of you as a snack. He always envisioned how you would taste on his tongue but he never thought he would have the opportunity. Hips pounding into you, he searched your face for any sign of joking, but you assured him with a nod and leaning your head back, exposing your neck to him.

Taking the invite, he returned to your neck, kissing and nuzzling the same spot he focused on earlier. The orgasm that formed started to teeter on the edge, threatening to tip over.

He was gentle as he ran his fangs across your skin. Slowly, he dug them in, piercing you and pulling the blood from your veins and sucked. Simultaneously, you both came. You felt like you were thrown into heaven from the snap in your pelvis and the tiny dizziness from the sudden blood loss in your neck- this high was amazing.

Jotaro rolled his eyes back as he came inside you and drank your blood; you tasted even better than he imagined. This was everything he wanted. He released your neck and pulled back slightly, lapping up the blood that escaped from the wound. He turned to see you completely spent. Lovingly, he brushed your hair behind your ear. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You huffed, looking tired but smiling.

Rolling off of you, Jotaro moved to lay behind you, pulling you so close to his body and covering the two of you with the blankets. "You're everything to me." He cooed.

You couldn't help but giggle, this big, brute of a man-vampire- was a soft, caring lover. Who would have known?