#imagine you find a cat boy in the rain and he just stays and let’s you pet his ears every night huh how wild

[ampheenix]

Sunflower Week 2023, Day 1- Childhood

The sky in Faraway was rumbling with loud thunder, the entire horizon completely darkened with stormclouds. Rain was pouring down in a tsunami of water, to the point where to attempt going outside would be suicide.

And yet, one miserable, tiny child was plodding through the downpour even against all odds, such was his determination.

“C-come on, B-basil…” He whispered to himself, teeth chattering as he tried to tug his too-small hood down further, to no avail. “N-n-not that fa-far now! We-we’re almost there…”

Basil kept his gaze on the pavement, wincing as a droplet icy cold water made its way down the collar of his jumper, trickling down his chest and sending a full-body shiver down his spine. The cold was a physical thing now, gnawing at his bones and slowly freezing his toes even as Basil trudged on and on through countless puddles, his drenched socks squishing with every step.

B-but he would make it! He had to, before the shop ran out of the ingredients completely… It was Polly’s birthday tomorrow, he’d already left it too late, and… and…

Basil felt his lip trembling, and although he tried valiantly to think happy thoughts (because crying was for babies, and he was a big kid like everyone else now- Hero and Mari had said so!) hot tears started to blur his vision, and his steps eventually slowed. Basil lifted his gaze from the drowning concrete, staring at the grey sky as he tried very, very hard not to cry.

But his shoulders started to shake, and feeling very cold, and wet, and miserable, he sank to his knees, curled up in a ball on the soaked pavement. Basil hugged his knees as tears ran down his cheeks, because why oh why hadn’t he told Polly where he was going before he left? Now… now he’d be all alone, too- too tired to move, and…

Basil felt a sob escape his chest, burying his head in his knees. He was so, so cold…

Maybe… maybe the other kids were right, when they said he was just a-

“BASIL!” A voice called, so muffled by the downpour that he thought he’d imagined it for a second.

Basil glanced up and around in surprise, because that- that was-

“M-ma… M-mari?” He stuttered in shock, thinking he was dreaming because there was no way Mari was here, he was s-surely hallucinating from the cold-

But lo and behold, Mari in all her angelic glory was splashing through puddles as she ran down the path towards him, worry evident in her features.

“Basil?!”

 In no time at all Basil was being hurried back to the Suzuki household, now being swamped by Mari’s cosy violet raincoat. He was so numb from the cold that he could barely walk, and Mari scolded him gently as she jogged back down through the rain, dodging puddles effortlessly with Basil on her back.

“Really Basil, what were you thinking?” She sighed, her concerned expression yet to fade. “You’ve probably caught a cold by now…” Basil felt terribly guilty even as he nuzzled into Mari’s soft hood, hugging her tightly as to not fall off, tears long since washed off by the rain.

“MOOOM! DAAAD!” Mari called as she entered the house, letting Basil slide off her back and onto the carpet. Mari slipped off her rainboots, quickly towelling herself off before placing a hand on his shoulder with a gentle smile and telling him to stay put before running up the stairs to find her parents.

He reluctantly let Mari’s far-too-warm-and-cosy raincoat fall off his shoulders, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He was still freezing, but, w-well, the raincoat was Mari’s, and she probably wouldn’t want him to be wearing it, and after all she wouldn’t want to get it all wet-

“Basil?” A soft voice spoke, and his head whipped round, cheeks beginning to warm because oh no, he had completely forgotten Sunny lived here too!!

The boy in question padded towards him, holding Mewo in his arms. He looked Basil up and down for a few moments, noting the shivering and the goosebumps on his arms, before holding out the cat.

Basil stared at him for a moment in confusion.

“Cat.” Sunny said simply, and Basil’s face lit up in realization.

“O-oh!” He smiled weakly as he shivered, “Th-thanks Sunny, b-but I sh-shouldn’t-”

Insistent, Sunny held out the cat, taking a step towards him. Sunny pushed Mewo into his arms, Basil letting out a small squeak as he did so.

“O-oh, um, y-you didn’t have t-to,” He said with warm cheeks (Sunny was so close!!) “b-but thanks, Su-sunny!”

Sunny stepped back, but remained there for a few more moments as he watched Basil stroke the cat gently. Even though his hand was cold and damp from the rain Mewo didn’t really seem to mind, purring contentedly.

Sunny watched as Basil smiled down gratefully at the cat, scratching her under the ears and hearing her rumble like a car engine.

…He felt jealous for some reason.

But Basil was smiling now, so it was okay.

“Ah, there you two are!” Mari said as she came down the stairs, a concerned Mrs Suzuki in tow. She grinned, noticing the hints of pink on her brother’s face as he gazed wordlessly at Basil stroking Mewo, looking completely infatuated - she was so teasing him about this later.

But, now was not the time- Basil was still dripping on their carpet looking like a miserable soaked cat himself, poor thing.

“Oh dear, you’re completely soaked to the bone!” Mrs Suzuki fussed, placing hands on Basil’s shoulders as she looked him up and down worriedly. Basil smiled weakly down at his shoes, looking rather uncomfortable from all the attention.

“U-um… sorry fo- for all the t-trouble…” Basil apologized to the floor, even as Mari shook her head with a bright smile. She swept in, subtly removing her mother’s well-meaning hands from Basil’s shoulders and replacing them with her own, giving him a small squeeze before drawing back.

“It’s no problem at all Basil, we’re always happy to have you!” Mari said kindly, and Sunny nodded in agreement. “Mom, can he stay for dinner?”

Mrs Suzuki looked uncertain, brow furrowing. “Well, I don’t know…”

Sunny huffed, before walking over to where Basil awkwardly stood.

He blinked, slowly and almost sarcastically, before gesturing to the soaked boy who was currently shivering and dripping icy rainwater all over their carpet, all while holding a very content cat in his arms.

Mari hastily smothered a snort.

Mrs Suzuki saw, and she sighed, a small smile gracing her features as she shrugged lightly. “Well, when you put it so eloquently Sunny, how can I possibly disagree?”

Sunny’s eyes lit up, and he turned back to Basil, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the stairs, the other letting out a small ‘Eep!’ as he did so.

Sunny glanced back towards his mother, wordlessly tilting his head towards the bathroom, and Basil hurriedly bent down to deposit Mewo back on the carpet. Before either Mari or Mrs Suzuki could blink they were already running up the stairs with wet footprints in their wake, Mewo padding after them in a slightly disgruntled manner.

“Basil dear, feel free to finish the shampoo, we’re almost out!” Mrs Suzuki called after them with an amused smile, and the two turned to eachother with conspiratorial grins, already on the same wavelength. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all.

…They were going to tease the hell out of  Sunny over his first crush.

EDIT: okay so it turns out that Sunflower week is actually in February and I got the date wrong, whoops💀

oh well lol, tysm for reading till the end!

[phanfictioncatalogue]

(TW) Homophobia (3) Masterlist

Links Last Checked: June 13th, 2023

part one, part two

A Human Heart (ao3) - andthenshesaid-write (ladyknight1512)

Summary: Phil's mother has always said that there are creatures in the forest and Phil has always thought they were just stories. Then one day he runs into the forest looking for somewhere to hide and meets Dan, a man with antlers and the ability to talk to trees. Phil's world opens up but there are dangers in the forest that he can't even begin to imagine.

baby, you put a spell on me (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're fun to look at. Obviously."

~~~

Magic is common in Phil's world. But even spells and potions can't explain his seemingly supernatural affeciton for his roommate...

before it gets better (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: Phil takes a bullet for Dan. Metaphorically.

Better Off - (ao3) - tellsfromhale

Summary: Dan's relationship with his family has been getting better, but when his mum drops the bomb that she's seeing someone and wants Dan to meet him, Dan doesn't know how to handle it.

between the lines (ao3) - dieofthatroar

Summary: Phil's a librarian at a local public library. Dan has nowhere else to go.

Bullies (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan and Phil are out shopping when they come face to face with one of Dan's old bullies. Dan is nervous, Phil is angry.

Confessions - walruslovechild

Summary: Dan comes from a strict religious family.

Constellations (ao3) - Cuddlelester

Summary: Being gay in a homophobic neighbourhood wasn't easy. Making friends was near impossible, especially once they learned about Dan's terrifying past. He lived his life alone, the stars being his only friend. It wasn't until his new neighbour came along and gave him something to live for.

december 25th: half my heart (ao3) - angelmichelangelo

Summary: after a difficult family dinner dan misses phil on Christmas Day

Falling For You - georgiabread

Summary: Dan Howell is dead. Well, sort of. He’s a guardian angel, forced to protect only one human, and that human is Cat. But when he accompanies Cat to school, he can’t help but be intrigued by the broken boy with the black hair who sits by the window in class and disappears at lunch times. Dan realises this boy needs more protection than Cat will ever need, so he takes on human form to save him. But soon he finds himself falling in love, which is something he definitely can’t do. Dan Howell is an angel, and he’s falling for Phil.

Fuck You Grandma - sleepylittlephil

Summary: Phil convinces Dan to come out to his homophobic relatives.

Fuck Faggots - flowers-and-colored-hair

Summary: Dan can’t stand gay people and needs to be taken down a peg. Phil takes it upon himself to do just that.

Give Yourself a Try (ao3) - analester

Summary: Phil Lester thinks he is straight. At least until he gets to uni and meets Dan Howell. Being gay is extremely frowned upon, so Phil tries his best to stay away from Dan, but it becomes difficult when his professor asks Dan to tutor him. Afraid of being shunned by his friends and family, Phil tries his best to suppress his feelings, but how can he when Dan is so pretty?

Homophobic Waiter But A Nice Restaurant Nonetheless (ao3) - rainbowchristy

Summary: parent phan where they all go to a restaurant and their child is a baby so they need their diaper changed but there is no diaper changing area and they tell the manager and ask if they can use somewhere else and the manager is like hella homophobic and they go out of the restaurant and tweet it and they get tonnes of support so fluffy angst.

I’m Dreaming of a Happier Christmas (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Not the most comfortable Christmas to say the least

It’s raining outside, but you’re keeping me warm (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Dan and Phil celebrate Valentine’s Day, but Phil doesn’t have the best time.

Dan makes it up to him and shows Phil how much he loves him.

let me show you (ao3) - cloudsrm

Summary: dan was born a colour bandit, emotionless and one of the most destructive creatures in the universes. he doesn't mind his evil and repetitive life, but once tragedy strikes, dan finds himself loathing the monster he was born to be.

phil was born colourful, full of emotion just like every other human. he tries to be just how he's wanted to be, but each day the task grows harder and harder, and phil finds himself wearing a mask of happiness wherever he goes.

when dan is forced to return to his home planet, he's lost all hope. when phil arrives at his favorite cliff side, he has as well. when the two meet, both of their world's rapidly change...but is it for the better or worse?

~a story about finding your true colors~

like a heartbeat drives you mad (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: Dan closes his eyes for a few breaths, then blinks them back open. “If you’d asked me that a year ago?” He bites his bottom lip and worries it between his teeth. “I’d have said yes for sure. But that sounds fucked up to me now.”

Phil lifts his eyebrows slightly. “What changed?”

The answer to that, Dan knows, is unsurprisingly simple. He swallows just to make sure he’s not choked up when he speaks.

“I met you.”

Misery and Malibu (ao3) - dip_the_pip

Summary: Going home to Wokingham already made Dan miserable, but being around his old school friends is somehow worse, especially when Phil experiences firsthand the harsh words that were thrown at Dan all his life.

one kiss that went right (ao3) - softnerds

Summary: Dan and Phil attend their first YouTube gathering together, but Phil trying to defend some boys against homophobic bullies leads to the day ending in a way that pleasantly surprises them both (set in 2010).

Repose - allthephils

Summary: Phil’s spent 5 years trying to forget about the time he spent Prince Daniel. When a generations old curse leaves Dan vulnerable and in danger of being lost forever, Phil may be the only one who can help him.

Ribs (ao3) - waypast0000

Summary: Dan and Phil throw a party, hoping to change their normal/loser lives. In the middle of adversities and growing up, it did, but not in the way they expected. Way, way better.

So Tell Me When You’re Going to Let Me In - definitelythor

Summary: After Dan’s kicked out of his family home at Christmas, he picks up a hitchhiker on the way to York, and at first he wonders if he’s made a huge mistake. But Phil’s actually kind of perfect, and maybe fate does exist after all.

Sometimes we just need a little love and affection to show us the world isn't all bad. (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: The boys encounter a hate fueled man and Dan has a hard time coping. Phil helps him the best way he can.

stop speak support (ao3) - calvinahobbes

There’s just an extra layer of awareness in his mind as he sits next to Phil on the sparsely populated tube on their way to a meeting, and the group of lads in their school uniforms stream into the carriage and start filling up the empty seats.

stuff happens (ao3) - kayamaya

Summary: "A few of the boys that previously loved to just generally call me gay while throwing compasses at me or something now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure." ~ Basically I'm Gay

Teaching you to smile again. (ao3) - Mangomelions

Summary: Dan is bullied at high school and meets the new kid, Phil, who kinda turns his life upside down.

the term is straight to hell (ao3) - confusednp

Summary: Dan and Phil’s first Pride together as husbands gets rudely interrupted

they don't know (about us) (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Dan and Phil in Jamaica, July 2010.

This Thing Called Love (ao3) - RyRyCaptain

too loud in public (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp

Summary: dan is too busy snogging a cute stranger named phil in a closet at a university party to realize the cops are about to break it up

Two Pats (ao3) - Septic84

Summary: A coming of age story of two soulmates.

Undefeated - howthemoonsuitsthenightsky

Summary: It had been over six months since they broke up when Dan was on the receiving end of a homophobic attack, but when he really needed help, Dan could't help but call Phil.

undisclosed desires (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Daniel Howell is UK's most popular musician. He loves his music, the world he's a part of. But Dan Howell doesn't. Then the director of his new music video quits and soon a storm begins that cannot be stopped.

We’d Make A Cute Couple - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan comes out to his parents and of course they’re not happy and think it’s a phase. Dan enlists the help of his best friend Phil to pretend to be his boyfriend.

would it be a sin if I can't help falling in love with you? (ao3) - resurrectdead

Summary: “Hey.”

Phil reaches over the counter. Leaning one elbow on it, he puts a finger underneath Dan’s chin, gently tilts his head back up. Dan tries not to tremble. He darts his eyes up and they catch at his lips, stay there as he speaks. (He wants to taste them so bad.)

“I don’t know what kind of people you’re friends with,” he starts, “but if they aren’t nice to you, maybe you should consider switching them out for some that are.”

or: it's 1978, everything is a bad influence, catholicism makes you a bit sad sometimes and dan finds the answer to all his questions

Yellow (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A new boy moved in next to him, his ex-girlfriend broke up with him, and school was starting back after the holidays. What makes it worse, is that the new boy is kind of cute and Dan’s straight.

[catharrington]

I don't know if you have time/desire for more catboy but if you do...

Steve getting something gross stuck in his fur (maybe Billy's bubble gum or some candy?) and Steve's trying to contort himself to clean it, but it's in a spot he just can't quite reach so they have to figure out how to get it off when a bath just makes it worse.

Time? None at all. Desire?? Overflowing with it, babe!!

Oh my gosh let me take this opportunity to enjoy some Halloween time!! I imagine cat boy Steve loves Halloween because hey free built in costume he always wears! Him and other cat people just have the best All Hallows ever!

Steve didn’t have much when he first came to Billy’s, just the ears on his head and the collar that got unceremoniously dumped into the trash can. Billy convinced him to go shopping together once, and Steve didn’t care for it much. Felt far too close to a date, too close to what he wanted from Billy— but not what the other wanted from him.

So soon billy just started leaving money on the coffee table where he could. Small amounts. Just enough for Steve to use it to feel some sort of independence. Because billy was stepping far too over the line— no way Steve actually wanted to be in a serious relationship with the guy he nicknamed ‘kidnapper’.

Halloween was different, Halloween was everything goes. Steve had gotten a job at a library just down the Main Street of town, not a 5 minute walk from their apartment. He would sit behind the counter tapping his long nails across a hard back book, most days, using his pointy ears and flicking tail to point out teenagers making too much noise. And the older woman who worked there all fawned over him.

He took the later evening shift, he said it was to help the old bats out, also I’m by myself! Don’t have to worry about them touching my ears or calling me ‘kitty’ to my face!

He would stumble home every day with his ears low on his floppy brown hair, and his shoulder bag filled with books across his chest.

Billy told him he shouldn’t be walking that late at night, don’t care how far, makes me worried someone might want a pretty cat like you?

And Steve would laugh, strip down to a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he stole from Billy, giggling the whole time, and lay down so his head is on Billy’s chest. Let those rough from work hands relax the tension in the muscles around his ears.

They didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. They felt like two jigsaw puzzle pieces meeting. And those don’t have to talk to know they fit.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see the side of Steve that wasn’t soft sweaters or library books. Wasn’t a fierce independence acting as a wall againt the trauma of abandonment. Of abuse.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see Steve in a skin tight black cat suit. Designed for cat boys and bought because there’s a bar right down the block from the library and it’s free drinks for cats tonight! I’ve just got to go, Billy, that’s so rad!

Halloween was when Billy followed Steve around, not the other way around. Pulled out an old leather jacket he was surprised still fit him at all. Didn’t talk about the way Steve was going for an all black look but didn’t make any move to take off the brown leather collar Billy got him as an apology gift.

Didn’t talk about the way the wet look pleather on Steve’s cat suit matched. Didn’t mention they looked like a couple. That Billy might hinder Steve if he’s looking to ride a dick that night.

No, he just smiled and walked arm in arm down the block as the sun set. Pretty oranges and red filling the sky. Leaves crunching underfoot the same color as Steve’s pretty hair, all styled up with hairspray and perfect as could be.

The building is lit up with strings of bright purple, a lime green naked bulb sits in the front door where a bouncer stands and collects Billy’s head fee while Steve just flicks his tail to get it.

The bar is crowded with ghouls, and goblins, witches line the bar with their pointy hats. Decorated with arching white spider webs.

Billy knows Steve really only drinks wine because it actually tastes good unlike the piss Billy drinks, so he ain’t surprised when he orders some candy-apple monstrosity. Laps it up with his devilish pink tongue when he gets it. Catches Billy watching over the rim of his tall beer glass.

Steve downs the martini in one gulp before grabbing Billy around the hand, pulling him with a naughty glint in his eye towards the dance floor.

He turns around, moves Billy’s hands around his hips, purrs dance with me, nice and slow?

In a question that doesn’t sound like a question. His tail wrapping possessively around Billy’s legs. Billy groans back, right into the chocolate fudge swirl of his sensitive ear, set the pace, pretty cat, you know I’m good for it.

They let go for song after song, rolling into the next like their bodies roll. Billy’s belt buckle shimmering and catching against the fabric of Steve’s cat suit. Both a mess of sweat, dripping off their foreheads into their greedy open mouths. But they don’t care, they don’t stop.

Not until Steve’s ear gets yanked by another bar patron. Billy’s got his face burrowed into the side of Steve’s neck, drowning the way his wild flower and musk cologne always lingers on the plush leather, so he doesn’t realize anything happening until Steve’s hands move off his own. They lift from where they were cupped around Billy’s own to swat at another hand hovering around his head. His ears. They stayed at if risking another grope.

Steve hissed low and mean, warning three’s a company, creepy bastard! Now back off before I show you how quick I can bite off a dick. His voice nothing like Billy’s heard it. It made his head snap up so quick.

The guy wouldn’t let up, his face ruddy with alcohol and his golden Roman crown as lopsided as his sheet he’s trying to pass off as a costume. He pops a sucker out his mouth to reply. It’s made his whole mouth cherry red, Billy hates to look at it. Hates the words he’s spewing even more.

Steve only lets him get a sentence into his explanation about how a wild cat like you needs a firm hand before he’s shoving with two fingers into the center of the guy’s chest. Backing him up with a sharp nail that disappears into the fabric. Hopefully to leave a prick of blood.

Billy’s hand snaps forward of its own accord, pressing his huge palm flat into the guy’s shoulder and sending him stumbling backwards. He’s always up for a bar fight, knows a drunk bastard like this wouldn’t win always. He shouts out I warned you man, and now I gotta kick your ass! But doesn’t get that far.

He’s caught by two hands on the lapels of his jacket. Yanking him to the side where Steve’s turned from the ass hole. Watching Billy with those nervous dinner plate eyes again. All glittering gold and chocolate chips, making his knees weak. He’s not worth it, Steve purrs. And he’s right. The guy isn’t worth it. But Steve’s worth winning one bar fight and so, so much more. He’s worth the world to Billy. So he listens and follows as they dip to the bathroom.

It’s not until Billy’s coming out of the stall he used to take a leak does he notice that creepy bastard’s pop stuck in the fur of Steve’s tail. It’s amazing he doesn’t feel it, all glossy and red and clutching at the silky fur, but it’s a testimony to how thick his tail really is. Billy knows, he’s had the honor of running his fingers through it enough times.

He offers let me help, get some soap and try to scrub it out.

But Steve just laughs, bracing himself on the side of the cracking porcelain sink, lifting one leg up while the other held his weight, then twists around until the flat of his tongue can lick across the base of his tail. Gathers spit by licking and licking, grooming the pop off his fur inch by inch until it detached into his mouth.

He drops his leg from the sink with a sigh, a dreamy moany thing that Billy’s never going to get out of his head.

Watches as Steve rolls the pop around in his mouth a couple times, savoring the artificial cherry flavor. Savoring the way he wasn’t about to let that ass hole ruin his Halloween. Then he pressed to open the trash bin with one stomp before spitting the pop away.

Billy’s never been more turned on, never been more grossed out as the same time he’s so hard. Never wanted to taste the lingering bubble pop cherry flavor from another pair of lips before.

He simply leans back against another sink and whistles, says that was something else, Stevie, where all can you reach?

And Steve doesn’t tell him. Huffs out the side of his mouth while he rolls his eyes. Blushing pretty. Says I seriously need another drink now. And something not cherry!

And Billy follows him back to the bar, decorated for Halloween and dripping with spider webs, with a smile.

[nrhshm]

Grandpa Whitebeard Hcs!!

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎■▪︎■▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Child is Gn. Use your dang imagination people!!

This legend, is a top tier on my list of favorites~! I hope I did him justice with this one.

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

Oh boy, Whitebeard's grandchild just got born. A new addition to the family? Flesh and blood from the all mighty father himself?!! You know what that means-

!!!! PaRtY TIME !!!!

Lets be fair tho, the Whitebeard Pirates would use any excuse to throw a party, they're ALWAYS partying. Yet this is different... THIS IS BIG !!!

Pops just wouldn't stop smiling. All he talks about now is his newborn grandchild, he'd even call on a full commander meeting just to pick a perfect name for the baby.

And once the child is released from the ship's nursing room, this old grandpa will be doting on 'em nonestop. Filling the Mobydick with all sorts of toys and castles, even some walls might be painted in a brighter color so that "the baby wouldn't get traumatised."

All fun and games until reality hits them hard, they are pirates, notoriously famous at that. So they're constantly targeted by other pirates or pirate hunters. And when that does happen, the whole crew is in total offense mode.

The crew's usual go-to plan is trying to find potential crewmembers or deposing off enemy ships entirely. But when an offender dares to lay a finger on their precious bundle of joy, they'll be raining hellfire on earth if they leave the battle alive. Torn to shreds by Marco's blazing kicks? Skinned alive by Vista's deadly swords? Burnt to the bone till they're nothing but ashes with Ace's scorching flames?? Or even worse, sent into the darkest pits of hell by Whitebeard's strike of fury?!!

In a nutshell, do not, I repeat- YOU. DO. NOT. mess with Whitebeard's grandchild, if you value your dear unfortunate life.

Growing older, the young pirate would be basked in everyone's caring nature. Whitebeard would have his sons stay with them incase he couldn't, he'd sometimes order the commanders to entertain the child, you might even see Ace goofingly scurrying around the ship after the others, then diving headfirst onto the ground when his narcolepsy kicks out in a simple game of tag.

You'd see the Mobydick's whole atmosphere changing, Thatch constantly cooking the kid's favorite meals, even making time for fun culinary lessons and food art. Marco would welcome the child to his office, storing their favorite books, maybe even halting his work process just to read them a tale regarding mythological creatures and ancient theories.

Ace on the other hand, would be the 24/7 shopping delivery service for the kid's expenses. They want a toy castle? Here you go! They want a pony? He'll sail the seven seas if necessary! The child asks for the world's largest cat?? Well, why not go ahead and ask for five??

Whitebeard would read the child to sleep, definitely not a storybook. Nuh uh, this man would be recounting his past adventures with a proud grin on his face, narrating various battles he'd fought and conquered mightily. He'd fondly watch his grandkid's reaction grow from mere curiosity, to absolute fascination for their old grandpa.

"Don't worry kid, I see a bright future for you in the new era! You'll meet lots of good people. You'll fight only the strongest!! I'd expect nothing less from my grandchild. Well, you can call it a grandfather's hunch - GURararararara!"

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

Room For Two

Pairing: Sheriff Hassan el-Shabbaz x Reader

Summary: Ali gets into trouble and goes to you instead of his dad

Warning/notes: mini angst; some fluff; stressed out dad Hassan; drowning reference; inebriation; two very smart dumb people; yearning; I'm only on episode 4 so maybe this sucks and is OOC, and also no spoilers please

@artemiseamoon @heresathreebee @acrossthesestars

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 989

The boy stands on your porch, shivering and drenched to the skin, looking like a cat that fell in a bathtub. His whole right side is covered in mud, and he’s missing a shoe.

“I can’t go home,” he pleads with you. Ali had been coming back from the Uppards with Ooker and Warren when the sky broke open with rain, and the wind and waves tossed the boat around. And now he’s at your door, too scared to go home and face his dad. You let the boy in and find him a towel, a faded band tee, and a pair of gray sweatpants that used to belong to your husband. For some reason you can’t get rid of them. You get a glass of water and place it on the bedside table.

“I have to call your dad,” you say once Ali is settled in your spare bedroom. He starts to protest but you give him a look that shuts him up immediately. “I need to call him. He needs to know where you are, and that you’re safe.” Your tone tells him there’s no room for arguing, so he doesn’t. Instead he punches the pillow a couple times and hunkers down under the covers. You shut off the light and close the door. 

You’re sitting on the porch when Hassan arrives. You’d called him after putting Ali’s clothes in the washer and checking in on the boy one more time. 

“Sheriff,” you say, putting on a heavy Southern accent and tipping an imaginary hat. The action usually gets a smile out of him, but not tonight. Hassan is ruffled, mentally and physically. His hair is falling in front of his forehead, and he’s wearing a gray t-shirt, jeans and a jacket thrown on in a hurry. He bounds up your porch steps. 

“Where is he?” Hassan asks.

“He’s inside,” you say. Hassan reaches for the door and you reach for Hassan, putting a hand on his arm. “Sleeping,” you add. “Sit down.” You gesture to the small cushioned sofa. He meets you halfway, deciding to lean unhappily against the railing, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you remain there in a heavy silence.

“Are you okay?” you try, not quite sure how else to break the silence.

“My son almost drowned and he thought he couldn’t tell me about it, so no, not really,” he says before smoothing a hand over the lower half of his face and searching the porch for answers. “Why didn’t he just come home?” You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t already been thinking about this question, or some version of it. 

“At my parent’s house there was a tree outside my bedroom window. I would use it to sneak out. One night when I was sixteen, I came home completely wasted. But I climbed that tree so much that I didn’t even think about it. I fell and broke my arm. I was more scared of my dad than the pain, but I was also too drunk to really feel it, and I know it’s not the same. Anyway, if I had someone like me then, I would’ve gone to them too. All I could think was my dad was gonna be pissed--it didn’t cross my mind that he might be scared. Talk to him tomorrow, hug him. It’ll work out.” You see the tension slowly leaving Hassan’s shoulders and he rubs the back of his neck. You curl your fingers in your blanket, unable to stop yourself from imagining his face cradled in your hands, relaxing as you stretch up on tiptoe to kiss his forehead.

“What did your dad do?” Hassan asks eventually.

“He asked me if I was okay, took me to the hospital. When it was all over he laughed at me and grounded me for a month.” You smile at the memory, and the two of you are silent again. It’s late, and you’re tired. You know he is too, the adrenaline having seeped out, taking its effects with it. 

“You can stay here if you want,” you offer. “There’s room.” Hassan shakes his head, pushing away from the railing.

“I need to walk,” he says and you watch as he lopes down the steps and stalks off into the night. 

Hassan does come back. The cold hits hard halfway through his walk, and he’s huddled deep into his jacket, fists in his pockets pulling it tight around his chest. And he’s exhausted, so much more than he realized. Your porch is empty when he returns, but you have a bad habit of leaving the dutch door to your kitchen unlocked. He lets himself in, kicking off his boots, making sure to lock the door behind him. The house is quiet and he treads softly back to your bedroom. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he gets there, and his heart is beating insistently, a beat he hasn’t felt in what seems like a very long time. Your door is closed and it’s dark at the gap between the door and the carpet. Hassan lifts his hand. He wants to knock, but he doesn’t, just rests his hand on the door. 

You’re not sleeping. A tree branch is knocking at your window and you’re staring at the ceiling, thinking things that you reserve for the dark privacy of your bedroom. Hands pulling warmth back into your body, a beard brushing against your skin, deep growls buried in the curve of your neck. You can’t turn your brain off and eventually you give up and leave the room. When you turn the lights on in the kitchen you see him. Hassan is stretched out on your couch, fast asleep, arm tucked under his head. You smile softly and pull a blanket off the back of a chair, covering him with it. You want to do more: place a kiss on his forehead or stroke his cheek, but you don’t. You shut the lights off and go back to your room. 

[tinyhistory]

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

-

A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

-

Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

-

Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

-

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

-

Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

-

The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

-

Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

-

Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

-

Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

-

On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

-

Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

-

Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

-

Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

-

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

-

The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

-

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

-

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

-

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

-

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

-

Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

-

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

-

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

-

When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

-

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

-

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

[skellebonez]

Tumblr Messed Up Fill #1

So Tumblr did a BIG OLD OOPS and published a bunch of my unfinished drafts that I left in my queue at 1 PM... when I set it to 1 AM and intended to finish a couple and then change the time again.

LUCKILY I DIDN’T HAVE THE ENTIRE FILLS IN THE QUEUE AND JUST BITS I ADDED IN TO HOLD SPACE. So... I guess this is how we’re doing this! @winterpower98​ here’s some Mentor Swap AU Shadowpeach!

How did you get that scar?/That is not a good hiding spot.

It had been scheduled far in advance and Wukong should have remembered that this was going to happen. The Weather Station needed to let it rain sometimes! It was good for the environment! Good for nature! But Wukong was Wukong and when he trained with Xiaotian for as long as he did he had a tendency to forget the unimportant things like “scheduled downpours” and “when training is actually supposed to end”.

So by the time he managed to crash land a foot away from Mei’s front door after pogo sticking his way off of Mount Huaguo he looked like he’d been dropped into the ocean.

“Cold-cold, cold and wet!” He yelped, shoving the staff back into his ear and trying to hold his jacket over his head as best he could, which did just as much good as it did during the ride. Which was “barely anything”. “Ah shit, it’s cold why can’t they make the rain not COLD!?”

He continued into the building, shuddering as he felt rain water seeping through every bit of fabric he wore, even his shoes the traitors. He immediately started ripping off his shirt, at the very least wanting to get some of the drenched clothing off him, and he froze when he heard a yelp from the other side of what should have been a very empty entry way given Mei was supposed to be out of the house.

A very familiar yelp.

“Why aren’t you are your own house!?” The voice yelled, and as Wukong pulled his shirt over his head he found the voice’s own staring at him with wide eyes alight with a mix of confusion and horror.

“UH, I think I should ask you that, Macaque!” He accused, turning sideways and walking backwards into the building with a raised eyebrow. “Why are you in Mei’s house? Are you hiding in Mei's house!? That is not a good hiding spot!"

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Monkey Boy?” Macaque said snarkily with a smirk.

“Monkie KID, and yeah, that’s why I asked,” Wukong snarked right back, holding his shirt and jacket out in front of him with a frown. “Also, you’re a monkey so...”

“Oh shut up.”

"And you look like you nearly drowned," Wukong chuckled, ringing his shirt out and pointedly not mentioning the blush he saw forming on the other's face. Yet. "It's raining cats and dogs and I’m pretty bad to, but you shouldn't be that bad."

"... don't laugh," Macaque grumbled, doing much the same to his scarf. "I was trying to get here when the rain was getting really bad and I... fell. Off the docks."

Wukong immediately burst into cackles.

“I told you not to laugh you asshole!” Macaque snapped, baring his teeth and trying to puff up his fur in annoyance but failing miserably with the sheer amount of water weighing him down. If anything it probably just made him look... adorably sad. Like a puppy. But a human sized monkey.

“I-I’m sorry!” Wukong held his sides, trying his very best to stop laughing. He also failed miserably, if not even more so than Macaque. “It’s just imagining you, YOU, falling off the docks? Just! You’re practically an acrobat! You’re usually way cooler than that!”

As Wukong continued to fail Macaque’s face softened as he stopped barring his teeth in warning and stared at the other young man.

“... you think I’m cool?” He asked softly, attempting to smooth down his fur and brush the water out of it.

“Kinda?” Wukong said with a half snicker, finally having himself under control. “Cool enough I guess.”

Macaque hummed, giving up on his attempts to dry off with a sigh. It was pointless to try to dry off with his fur like this, not without some kind of towel or brush. And he would be damned if he let Wukong let himself shake dry! That was not going to happen.

So instead he turned to the other, watching as he laid out his tip layers on his arm and turned around.

And something caught his eye.

Multiple somethings.

“How did you get that scar?”

Wukong tensed, not enough for him to stop moving but more than enough for Macaque to notice that he was walking away much slower than he needed to.

"Depends on which one you mean," he answered eventually. He reached up to pull on his hair, frowning as it dripped more water on him.  "Hold that thought until I come back."

And so he did. Macaque watched the other leave and stood in the open room, awkward and dripping sea and rain water all over Mei's floor.

He debated leaving. Just walking out the door and avoiding the awkward conversation that was sure to be leveled in his direction when the human returned, but before he could even make the decision to decide on an option something brought and green was lobbed at his head and wrapped around his face.

“WHAT IN THE-”

“Towel off before Mei gets angry we both tracked in water,” Wukong said, mischievous chuckle resounding through the air before Macaque managed to unwrap the towel from his face. “I’ve got something else that’ll help out after.”

Macaque was going to ask what that something was before the words died in his throat, the sight before him making him pause in confusion and barely held back amusement.

“You have Monkey King themed PJs?” He asked, toweling off his head first. “At Mei’s?”

“Sometimes I stay over.” Was all Wukong said, shrugging as if it was nothing. “Considering you’re here and I don’t see signs of a break in I assume those plum PJs in the same closet are yours.”

“I DON’T HAVE PAJAMAS HERE I DON’T STAY THAT OFTEN!” Macaque snapped, and his face flushed a deep red in embarrassment before he saw Wukong’s victory smirk. “... you made that up to make me slip that I’ve been here before.”

“And you took it hook, line, and sinker,” Wukong said playfully, grabbing the monkey demon’s arm and using a second towel he had to dry it off. “I wasn’t kidding about the PJs though.”

“O-oh...” was all Macaque could reply with as the information slowly sunk in before he ripped his arm away. “I can do that myself!”

“Then do it and come inside!”

~

Macaque was... mostly dry after a couple minutes, enough for Wukong to drag him into the bathroom and instruct him to change and use the blow dryer he has shoved into his hands while he mopped the floor. And as much as Macaque disliked the noise... he couldn’t argue that the warm air of the device was a welcome change from the icy seawater against him.

He may have looked like an extra puffed up fur ball when he was done and refused to come out until he at least had the PJs (short sleeved and indeed covered in plums) on to hide the worst of it.

Didn’t stop Wukong from devolving into cackles at his expense once again.

“Hold on, let me do something,” Wukong offered, and guided him to sit down on the couch sideways, situating behind him with the other pulled against his chest and a comb in hand. “At least I can help with your hair... if it counts as hair.”

“... I don’t know if it does,” Macaque replied, finding himself at a loss for what to do and say in this situation.

They were enemies, right?

Shouldn’t Wukong... be chasing him out of the building?

Now sitting him down to- OH NO!

“ACTUALLY WA-”

Macaque froze as Wukong’s fingers brushed against his scalp and the teeth of the comb brushed through his hair, far more gentle than Macaque could remember anyone touching his hair before, and he went limp in Wukong’s arms like putty.

“Knew that’d get ya,” he felt Wukong say as much as he heard him say it, and the hands and comb continued through his hair and fur and he couldn’t even muster up any coherent words to snark back at him. Just a frustrated grumble. “Xiaotian does this to me a lot. And to his monkeys. So I figured this would be... ya know, nice for you.”

They stayed like that for a good while, Wukong brushing his fingers and the comb through puffed up fur and pulling out tangles Macaque didn’t even know he had on the back of his neck. It felt... strange. To trust someone that you spent so much of your time fighting against, flirting with awkwardly in the midst of battle, never thinking that the two of you would just sit and do anything calmly together.

But here they were. On Mei’s couch. Macaque feeling a purr rumble up in his chest as Wukong groomed through his hair and fur in a gesture he clearly admitted he knew the implications of.

“They’re from before,” Wukong said after a while, after he rested his head on Macaque’s shoulder and started working through the fur on his arms. “Before Red took me in... back before I had the staff to fight with.”

And as much as Macaque wanted to ask, and if he really tried he knew he probably could, he chose not to push it when he heard the way Wukong’s tone changed. Something equally nostalgic and melancholy.

“I think they make you look cool too,” was what he said instead.

“... We’re both pretty cool.”

[biisexualemma]

drunken night. klaus mikaelson

word count: 1698

warnings: none just a bit of swearing

requested: no something i wrote ageees ago

plot: your night is spoiled and klaus comes to the rescue

a/n: something different? let me know if you like or not oop— i have many more. also some kol imagines and bucky / peter p / marvel imagines i could post??? dunno lemme know whatcha think i’m nervous

masterlist

“oh, hey klaus," your eyes shifted around the compound when you stumbled across the wrong mikaelson brother. you'd been looking for your best friend, kol, you were supposed to go out drinking tonight. you'd had a particularly lousy week at work, and you were certainly ready to start the weekend off right by getting absolutely drunk out of your mind. and kol was the perfect person to do this with. "is kol around?"

klaus' eyes shifted from the book in his hands to you when you entered the compound. you wore your hair down which you didn't do often, and dressed up just a little more than usual. klaus couldn't keep his eyes off you, you didn't notice as you were preoccupied with kol's whereabouts.

"can't say i've seen him, love," you nodded. pulling your phone out your back pocket you began to dial kol's number when a message popped up. it was from kol.

i'm caught up with something. rain-check?

you huffed when you saw the message. you understood but it was still annoying. you really needed this night out. you just responded with a quick no prob. see you later. before shutting off your phone.

"kol?" klaus raised an eyebrow when he heard your phone ding, followed by your sigh. you nodded.

"he's cancelling on me," you frowned slightly, looking up to see the hybrid was watching you with a smile. you ignored it, he always wore a smirk on his face. he was always amused, or ready to tease you about something, it was in his nature.

"he's always been a bit flaky, that brother of mine," he shrugged, putting his bookmark in between the page he was on and put it down. his full attention was on you now. "what did you have planned?"

you trudged over to where klaus was sitting, and plonked yourself next to him like a child throwing a strop. klaus smirked in amusement. he always had a bit of a soft spot for you, not that he'd ever tell a living soul. but ever since you became friends with kol a couple years ago, klaus had his eye on you. he always made an effort to talk to you when you weren't preoccupied with his brother. he liked the way you smiled when he spoke to you. you were kind and inviting, and funny. but you held your ground, and defended yourself and the people you loved fiercely. he just felt better when you were around.

"we were supposed to go out drinking," you wore a slight pout. you were always oblivious to the way klaus behaved around you. you thought he was handsome, no doubt, and his accent always made you feel a little weak, but he was kol's brother. and he had a reputation, so you never went there. you just figured he was nice to you because he had to be. kol was very protective over you, he wouldn't stand for klaus, or any of his siblings, being rude to you. "and boy do i need a drink."

you rested, ready to up and leave after you spent a moment being angry with kol so you could move on from it. you just needed to get it out your system quickly and then you could go home and mope about it. "you know, i work hard at my job," suddenly you found yourself unloading everything on klaus. "and do i get any recognition? does my hard work pay off?" you couldn't stop now you'd started. klaus was the next best thing to kol, and he wasn't complaining yet so you kept going. "no! you know what i get? a big fat load of nothing.”

"and then i think— you know what— screw them. what do i care? i can spend the night getting drunk, forgetting about my shitty job and my shitty coworkers, and my shitty boss. but what happens?—"

"kol dumps you," klaus intervened.

"kol dumps me!" you repeated. you huffed, sinking back into the seat.

"you really should find better company than my brother, he's always been a bit of a letdown," klaus shrugged, teasing in hopes to ease the tension you were feeling. instead, you slapped his chest, giving him a look that made him think that was the wrong thing to say.

"he's your brother, and my best friend, don't be mean," klaus stifled a laugh and nodded his head. he didn't dare argue with you, you were on a roll. you could easily rip into him and he didn't want to hear it right now. "anyway," your attention moved away from klaus again and you sighed, your shoulders slumping. "point is, i'm sick of people."

he smiled, nodding again. "welcome to my world, love."

you glanced at him for a second. you always liked when he would use that nickname with you, it made you feel a little bit nervous. he was this big, scary hybrid, that so many people feared. but he would sit with you and let you rant about work, tease you and call you love. it was almost comforting. you liked klaus, despite what anyone said. which worried you.

"i should go," your eyebrows furrowed the longer you lingered. "sorry for unloading all that on you," you let out an uncomfortable laugh, realising you'd been sitting hear talking his ear off whilst he was being so polite and taking it all in. you stood up, making your way towards the door. "see you around, klaus."

as you turned to leave through the front gates, you found klaus now standing in front of you. you jolted backwards, caught off guard by his fast movements.

"stay and have a drink with me," klaus proposed. you furrowed your brows again, taken aback.

"i think i should probably go home.”

"come on love, you made it pretty clear what you needed is a stiff drink and some company. and here i am, offering you both," the smirk on his lips was enough to entice anybody. you couldn't resit accepting him.

you were quiet for a moment. klaus shook his head. "i'm not all bad, promise."

"ok, fine."

hours later and you were absolutely rotten drunk. your words slurred, your eyes stung, and you laughed at anything that klaus said at this point. but you were enjoying yourself. klaus turned out to be pretty good company after all. his tolerance was obviously much than yours, so he watched in amusement as you got more and more intoxicated as the night went on. he was just glad you were feeling better.

"i hope you told him where to shove it," klaus responded to your story about this man that had cat called you on your walk to the compound earlier.

you rolled your eyes, wearing a soft smile. "of course i did. i'm not completely helpless," you were lying down on the couch, klaus sat on the chair next to you, watching you stare at the ceiling and occasionally stealing glances at him. he only found himself growing more and more fond of you, the more time he spent with you. you let out a content sigh, your eyes drooping slightly the longer you lay flat on your back staring up at the ceiling. you were growing tired, it was pretty late now. "you're not as mean as people say you are, klaus," you mumbled quietly, your eyes glancing upwards to where he sat watching you with a drink in his hand. "in—in fact, you're perfectly nice," you hiccuped.

"well, if i was this nice to everyone, i wouldn't have much of a reputation, now, would i?" his quirked his eyebrow and sipped his drink. you sat up, turning around so you could face him.

"huh, i guess," you hummed as you thought about it. he was right. but why you? "you know, when we first met, before i knew who you were, i thought you were pretty hot," you chuckled, holding your stomach as it began to feel unsettled. you weren't thinking about anything that was coming out of your mouth at this point.

"before you knew who i was?" he frowned for a split second, you always didn't catch the expression.

"yeah, before i knew you were kol's brother," you shrugged. "kol's like a brother to me and i couldn't go around crushing on my brothers brothers— brothers best friend?— best—best friends brother? yep. that's the one," you smiled, your eyes fluttering. it didn't occur to you that you were admitting this all to klaus.

"crushing?" klaus teased. he knew you were drunk, but he also knew you'd never have the confidence to say any of this to his face sober. so he was revelling in it a bit. "you crushed on me?"

you pointed a finger at him, wearing a smile. "don't make fun of me."

"i'm not," he shook his head, still wearing a soft smirk. "but you do need to get to bed i think, come on," he held out his hand, helping you onto your feet. as you stood up you felt the blood rush your head. klaus clutched onto your arms as you wobbled. "yep. bed time for you, love."

you didn't argue. you allowed klaus to guide you up the stairs, carefully, one step as a time. his arm wrapped around your waist, and you clutched onto both his arms tightly. he guided you to the guest room where you'd spent many drunken nights, after nights like this with kol.

"i got it from here," you turned to face klaus, his hand lingering on your waist as you now stood face to face. you swayed forwards, grabbing his forearm. you wore a soft smile, your face inches apart and you couldn't stop yourself. you leaned closer, pressing your lips to his. his lips moved against you, pushing you backwards until your back hit the doorframe and he pulled away. his hands on your hips and yours just touching his chest. you let out a smile. your faces still pretty close together. "don't tell kol i did that."

klaus mimicked your smile. "i won't tell if you don't."

did klaus like you back?

[vidalinav]

A Kinder Sea: Chapter 1

Summary: After the IC give Nesta an ultimatum Nesta chooses instead to support herself, cutting herself off from them completely and so begins Nesta’s journey of finding a job and falling in love with everyday life (Slice of Life/Fix-it Fic)

Masterlist, Chapter List 

Dedicated to you Noni!

~

Three flights of stairs later and Nesta could feel the muscles in her legs quake, and she wasn’t even on her floor. Even after all these months she was still not used to the stairs. They wound up the apartment building in a way that offered no shortcut.  

To get to her apartment, she’d need to pass every door on each level, each apartment spiraling around the building like a dome. Nesta’s was at the end. At the very top and the last apartment on the fifth floor. It was the cheapest one she could find in Velaris, and when she’d moved in she understood why.  

Never mind that the entire layout seemed impractical, Nesta often wondered what would happen if a fire broke out. She could only imagine jumping from the fifth floor like a flying squirrel, landing in that lone tree at the center of the complex. Then she’d really be lost to the wild, as her sisters probably thought now.  

She could hear the pounding footsteps of the floor above and Nesta rolled her eyes. Two little boys came trampling down, running as if they were made of air. They did not so much as huff as they bounced the ball they carried and Nesta held her breath as they passed. No sense in showing them that she couldn’t make it to her floor without panting out a lung.

“Hi Ms. Nesta!” One yelled.

“Bye Ms. Nesta!” The other called.

Nesta didn’t get the chance to answer before they were gone. Matching red shirts disappearing to lower levels. Her eyes tried to follow them as she grasped the railing for the fourth set of stairs. She couldn’t catch the youngest’s dark curly hair or the oldest’s green shoes and Nesta lugged herself up, sighing in defeat.  

She wondered if falling down four floors was enough to knock herself out--if the beautiful fae male on the first floor would perhaps carry her up, gods knew she’d survive the fall. But no... Nesta couldn’t chance it. With her luck, no one would even notice, and she’d have to pick herself up, shame and all, and climb them all over again.

She supposed she could always pretend to be napping. Lie under that tree and the beautiful azure sky like she hadn’t fallen four floors. The summer sun, Nesta would say to her neighbors if they asked. Such a beautiful day to be out here. Picnics and all.

Why are your legs broken then? They’d say.

None of your business, she’d answer in that haughty tone of hers.

Nesta laughed at her own thoughts... But as she looked back at all those steps, her smile dropped. Nesta could only tip her head back and groan.

She’d chosen the apartment because it was the cheapest, yes, and she’d regretted it every day since. Not enough to move, but perhaps she was just too stubborn. Even when her sister had asked with that tone of hers why she lived there, or when the silence between them was enough of a proclamation that Feyre did not approve, Nesta held onto the apartment. Nesta held onto it like it belonged to her. Like she owned it and Nesta knew she owned nothing. The city might as well have been signed under Feyre Archeron and her insufferable mate—property owned and sold by the Night Court’s finest and Nesta was not ashamed to say the thought made her bitter.

Nesta could not run far enough away to escape her sister, and now her sister thought she owned her too.

She began the trek up, breathing through the burn of her thighs, trying to focus on the movements of her body rather than the berating voice of her mind, but the anger was a tight first pulling at her skull.

Forget them. They mean nothing to you, Nesta told herself.

You mean nothing to them, a voice whispered back.

She could only agree, and Nesta couldn’t help but lean over the railing. Four floors and then five, contemplating that height.

The only time she hadn’t regretted this apartment was when spring came in a flurry of rainstorms. She’d watched from her balcony window the rain pour down on the city below, gloomy and perturbed that her night of drinking had been postponed indefinitely. But when days had passed and the sun at last began to peek out once more, and she unashamedly ran to the nearest tavern, Nesta had caught a glimpse of that lone tree at the bottom. It had bloomed in magenta and white, it’s flowers swaying to a soft breeze.  

She’d gripped those rails and stood there, didn’t even know if she made it to the bar that day. Nesta had stayed there for hours looking at those colors—to each door, each floor thinking that the building itself bowed to that tree, protected it in its sacred embrace. Nesta, herself, had bowed to that tree that day as she leant over the railings.

She could imagine the petals still, the wind picking them up as if it might gift it to her. She’d wished for Elain then... hoped that she might come—forget what she said about her life being separate from theirs. But Elain never came... Elain never visited her once.

Now, Nesta thought, Elain didn’t deserve to see it at all.

The thought of her sister made her chest thrum with unsettled words—and Nesta chastised herself for her straying thoughts and that restless anger she didn’t know what to do with.

The summer had taken away the beauty of spring and there were no flowers left when the sun beat across the sweltering concrete and all Nesta knew for sure was that she was sweaty and exhausted, her chest heavy in a way that she usually only felt after a long night of drinking and getting nowhere. The stairs were usually a punishment then, a pain she’d only vaguely complain about the next day when she did it again, lugging herself up flight after flight.  

She supposed this was a punishment, too.

Nesta could see her door as she managed the last step and she could have flopped down right then and there, but she raised her chin instead because the stairs would not best her today.

Neither would her snooty sisters. Neither would her mind that wouldn’t stop thinking of them.

The surest way to forget, Nesta learned, was wheat, barley, and hops or whatever the tavern made ale with. She could practically hear the tumbling drunken voices as she walked to her door. She’d drink the memories away, music filling the space where her thoughts had once gathered. Let them return in the morning with the headache and the dry throat that would surely accompany like loyal friends—old friends that Nesta had begun to miss.

She fumbled with the lock on her door with that thirst in her throat, her mouth parched for the taste of it. The key jammed as she twisted it and Nesta shoved it harder in its slot.

“Are you serious?” She asked the door. The dingy, brown-painted wood did not reply and Nesta groaned as she kicked it. Nesta fiddled with the lock, turning the key over and over, slamming the door with her body, and when the lock would still not budge, she pointed to the door as she had to the King of Hybern. “Open up you blasted thing!”

Meow.

Nesta turned to the black shadow that poked its head out of the wall, clenching her fists at the interruption.

"Shoo,” she said as she waved her hand.

Meow, the cat sounded, tilting its ghostly head.

Nesta could make out no mouth or eyes and she didn’t know how she could hear its cry, but she’d stopped asking questions about the logic of the fae world the first weeks of becoming fae. It did her no good when she was hungover or tired... which were most days, and it was not the first time the little shadow cat seemed to come out of the walls and greet her at her door.

She pointed to the shadow merely wagging its tail like the arrows of a metronome. “At least you can get inside,” Nesta grumbled.

The shadow cat tilted its head as if contemplating her statement then rolled onto its back, offering its belly. Nesta didn’t know what solution that might have wrought so she ignored its luring movements.

“I’m allergic to cats,” she haughtily replied.

Nesta pulled the key from its slot and slammed it in once more. She wiggled it back and forth, her face feeling hot with frustration. The cat meowed louder as it jumped up, coming to rub itself against her leg.

Nesta raised her hands in defeat, sighing as the door stubbornly stayed closed.

“Fine,” she said, looking to the little shadow. “You win.”

The cat bobbed into her outstretched hand, and Nesta crouched low, scratching behind its ears. The shadow’s fur felt as soft as silk, and she wondered why it didn’t feel like air like she thought it should. The cat meowed again, and Nesta huffed. Attention hog, she thought, but the cat merely rubbed against her, purring sweetly.

“You know, you’re far less judgmental than most people I know,” she said. The cat flopped on its back again and Nesta went for its belly. The cat swatted her away with its paws. She swatted back, feeling herself smile lightly at its antics.

At the unconscious raise of her lips, Nesta frowned, but before she could contemplate the distraction, the little cat’s head stood at attention, its body stilling its lazy movements. The cat looked to the stairs and so did Nesta. She could hear the echo of concrete as someone took heavy steps.

When Nesta turned to the cat again, it was gone.  

“No music. No stomping. No parties. No recreational sports. No hobbies. No shouting!” The male shouted.

“What? No laughter?”

“Not if it’s loud,” Nesta’s landlord threatened. She could recognize the nasally tone, the footsteps when he went from apartment to apartment reminding them about rent, leaving notes on their door about policies. Why he frequently climbed those stairs on his own accord Nesta never knew.

But she took note of the feminine laughter, one she’d never heard before.

Nesta recognized all of her neighbors—knew what they looked like, how they talked, their routine on a regular basis. She watched them from her world above and occasionally they would say high, but mostly it was Nesta watching as they interacted in the world below. She didn’t care to know any of their names, she only wanted to know what level of bothersome they would be—what kind of threat.

This voice was new and they didn’t sound threatening, but Nesta knew that she would spend hours looking out of the little peep hole to see if she’d catch a glimpse of that unknown being who laughed as if her landlord was joking. He was not joking.

Nesta certainly wouldn’t stay outside to greet them. She didn't have it in herself to meet one more person who would just stare along with all the rest. As if she was some carnival attraction.

Come see the failure of Velaris. Some say she’s so hideous, she never comes down from that tower.

Nesta looked to her door, the key still stuck in its slot. She could hear them louder this time, their voices clear and ringing.

“No pets. No flags. No patio decorations. Nothing colorful...”

She twisted the key with reckless abandon, slamming herself quickly at the same time she pushed. The door opened easily and Nesta watched her landlord reach the top of the stairs as she shut it quickly.

The door clicked in place with a heavy thump.

Nesta didn’t look back out—didn’t move. She was almost afraid the stout male would be there breathing down the worn paint, some random fae trailing behind like death on her doorstep. She leaned against the door and tried to picture that tree again. The cat with silk-soft fur. The fizz of alcohol that floated to the top. The pop of a champagne bottle as if she had something to celebrate.

But when Nesta closed her eyes, she could only see a shadowy figure standing beyond that worn, thin door. Hovering over it as if it breathed on the back of her neck. Scythe in hand—the grim reaper yelling across its wood in sharp, distinct notes.

Nasal and high-pitched.

Where. Is. The. Rent?

~

Nesta left the windows open to air out the scent that Cassian had so graciously commented on the day before, and the room had become unbearable. The hot sticky sun of a mid-summer warmed her skin, and she kicked her blankets away, feeling as if she’d just bathed. Her hair stuck to her face, but she didn’t bother combing it away. It seemed that all Nesta could do was slouch back and stare at the ceiling.

She had stared at the ceiling all day, couldn’t stop staring at nothing until Nesta hoped it would just collapse on top of her. Popcorn ceiling constellation for wary, vindictive dreams. Not that she remembered many these days.

From her bedside window, she could see the sun had already begun to set on Velaris.

The window was another thing she liked about this place—that she could see the city without ever leaving her bed. She could see rooftops and the interweaving trees. Great twisting oak that she felt might come alive one day, grab her by one of its many branches and hoist her over the city to the sky above.

Nesta didn’t know what time it was. Most days she found herself having slept before realizing she’d ever laid down. She was always tired and just like yesterday and the day before, Nesta had slept to the buzz of cicadas, and she’d woken to crickets chirping. The sound so loud she thought they might be hidden in her cupboards.

But all Nesta could do was sigh...

Nothing much had changed. She was still in her apartment, could still see the endless amount of clothes strewn about, knew that there was nothing to eat in the pantry or the refrigerator.

The crickets chirped, and nothing changed.

Still, she felt different.

And she felt as if the world should look different, too. Rain, because something permanent had happened yesterday morning and the sky wanted to wash it away. The ground shaking instead of her body. The wind roaring instead of her words. But the sky was only dipped in peaches and purples, and the world was still.

The bed creaked as she tumbled out of it and Nesta kicked away the dress she’d worn that gathered at her feet. Maybe she’d burn it, too, because she didn’t want to remember what it felt like to be embarrassed... ashamed.

Maybe she’d keep it.

Because no person, thing, entity, or otherwise was going to take one more piece of her. She’d keep it like the memory of a risen middle finger. Like a power that hummed a furious tune.

For now, she’d throw the dress in the corner with the rest of the clothes and hope it took up space in a room that was mostly bare.

That was her apartment’s fault. It was too large, even without a bedroom. A studio Nesta couldn’t fill—didn't want to fill at the time. It was empty and it echoed as she walked. She didn't even have a dining room table. Only a bed that came with the place, a frame that was squeaky and rusted. Her dirty clothes and her shoes strewn about decorated the room, and she was okay with this...

Until he had wandered in.

Some part of her thought she ought to take a bath and wash the grime of the days away. Look somewhat decent. But the thought of him filled her with disgust. She would be decent for no one.

So Nesta went to the kitchen instead, tucked away in the far corner, where the cream-colored shelves sat studiously staring as if to say you haven’t opened us in a while. Nesta didn’t bother with them.

Nesta went to the refrigerator instead, reached above the tall contraption she’d found to be positively fae. Nothing existed quite like this where’d she lived most of her life. They’d had an icebox when it was winter, where they stored uncooked meat if Feyre had come home with excess. But that had rarely happened. In the fae world, it seemed, everything she found a luxury, was common and not worth speaking about.

Nesta reached for the cookie jar that sat at the top, its white hue dusty as she took it down. In it was her security and she couldn’t help but hold it to her chest.

In the beginning, when she’d first started frequenting taverns and hadn’t yet discovered the joys of sex and booze, Nesta was rather serious about cards. Mostly because she was good at playing and males were easy to fool. They’d stare at her breasts, try to make casual chit-chat, all the while Nesta was making bets. They were making their own bets too, of course, who’d go home with her, who’d she kiss in the back hall, feel her up where it was quieter, and the lights were dim. They didn't seem to mind losing money and Nesta certainly didn’t mind taking it.

She stored the bills and coins away in some random jar she’d found in the local grocery store. It was on sale, and it was the first thing she’d ever bought with money of her own.  

Nesta didn’t want to think on what they would call this money, but it was her money. She splayed the bills on the counter, piled up the coins, and when she was done counting, Nesta found she had just enough for next month’s rent... and maybe a grocery run if she’d budgeted well enough. It would have to last her—the groceries. Unless she found a job soon. She’d start looking today...

Tomorrow, she decided.

Today she’d clean herself up. Because tomorrow, she’d have to look presentable whether she wanted to or not. It was not about pride. It was about survival and Nesta had survived worse things than this.

So, who cares about them? Nesta thought. The only person who lives here is me.

~

Something her sister didn’t seem to realize was that getting drunk was free.

Most nights Nesta didn’t even have to buy her own drinks, and the only reason she did was because she’d knew her family would see it. She liked imagining the red of their faces, the clenched fists in which they held the bill. Making them angry seemed to spark some thrill in her that nothing else could replicate.

Now as she sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hands, she almost felt annoyed. Not just because she couldn’t get drunk today, but because even if she did who would see it? Who would care?

Not that they did, anyways.

But she supposed all of them had won in that sense... and the idea that they won, that they had an advantage even now made Nesta want another drink.

“Can I get you another round?” The male asked, sidling up to her, placing his hand on her back.

Nesta didn’t spare him a glance, as she rocked her drink in her hand, “No.”

"You’ve been sipping on that drink since you got here.”

“You've been paying attention, how nice.” Nesta held up the half-finished glass, “I’m fine with this one.”

The male didn’t seem to get the hint as he sat at the stool next to her. He could have been beautiful or a disgrace, Nesta didn’t care. He could have been him and she still wouldn’t have looked.

The whiskey told her that was a lie.

“Come on, just one drink.” He lured, leaning into her. When the male didn’t capture her attention, she heard the slam of his glass on the table. She gave it a sidelong glance, where the liquid spilled on the counter. “What? You’re too proud to drink with someone as lowly as me? Lady Archeron.”

He sang the words, and at the title, Nesta shot him a glare, letting her powers glow through, “if you want to keep your tongue, I suggest getting away from me.”

The fae stepped back at the look.

Good, she thought. Smart. Nesta had no interest in blowing up the bottles stacked behind the bar, and she had no means to pay if it happened. If it happened, he’d have bigger things to worry about then her eyes glowing silver.

Nesta looked to the puddle forming where he’d slammed his drink and gave him another glare.

Leaving this mess? Who raised you?

A waitress huffed a laugh, and Nesta turned towards her. She couldn’t help the scowl she gave the female behind the bar, who took out a rag and wiped the counter clear. “What are you looking at?”

The female only gave her a smirk, humor dancing in her eyes.

Nesta gulped down the last of her drink, slamming the finished glass on the table like the male had done before. She took out a few coins, pushing them forward.

Tonight, she did not feel like another.

~

Finding a job was harder than she expected and Nesta spent most of the morning going from shop to shop asking if they had any availability for work.

Most of the stores had barely begun to open, and only a few gave her concrete answers. The little book shop—Nesta's first choice—had told her that the owner was away and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. The pastry shop, where Nesta might have been happy smelling the sweet scent of bread for hours and sneaking the tarts they’d displayed in the windows, had inquired about skills in which she had few.

By the time she made it back to her apartment, she felt the heavy weight of the rising sun and little more than disappointment settling on her shoulders. She was hungry, too. It seemed that job hunting worked up an appetite that only a job could satisfy, and Nesta could think of nothing that sounded remotely good to fill her.

Nesta had been like that lately. Always hungry. Never hungry enough... or perhaps too hungry to move and search for food in her pantry. Not that she had much in there besides dust bunnies.

She’d taken money out of the jar that morning, though her heart hurt with every silver coin. The bills, in their array of colors, Nesta hadn’t touched—wouldn’t dare if she wanted her rent paid next month. She couldn’t stop thinking about it... the looming sense of dread that accompanied her and her dwindling jar. Her stomach ached with it.

Still, she had enough for a bag of groceries, Nesta told herself... minus the coin for the drink. She shouldn’t have bought it. She should have let the male pay for it.

Nesta didn’t want to dwell as the guilt roared up her chest.

She had enough for some bread and butter, cheese and some fruit. Tea to tide her over. She let that fact comfort her. She didn’t need much. Afterall, she’d starved half her life. There was no difference in doing it now. Nothing new, Nesta decided.

For now, even as her nausea demanded she go home and hide behind her door where she could pretend it was safe, she’d buy a sweet bun for her effort and she would try to enjoy it, too.

There was a grocery store a street down from her apartment and trees lined the sidewalk. Nesta could make out the pinwheels poking out from the ground, rainbow colors spinning so fast she might have gotten dizzy starring at them for too long. Windchimes rang as she approached, and its soft music drifted past as if it were made of dreams. It made her envious. The little shop that could hear music made by the wind.

“Good morning!” An elderly male greeted her as he set down a box of oranges lined in neat rows. Nesta recognized him as one half of the couple who owned the store. She raised a hand in greeting but didn’t say a word instead jumbling past him and the ramshackle array of boxes. Reds and vibrant yellows. Bright greens and dark greens and something shaped like a star.

“Can I help you find anything?” He called, though Nesta had lost him between the shelves. The fae always asked her that as many times as she dared to show her face, and just like the many times before Nesta did not reply. She merely looked to the corner, already knowing its place, where the clear display casings were filled with buns and bread.

Nesta eyed her favorite immediately.

She took the tongs out of the encasing and felt her mouth water, her stomach grumbling its get on with it roar. She picked up the toasted brown, the bun dusted with powdered sugar. She ignored the other sweets trapped inside. Nesta hadn’t wanted to try any of the others. As soon as she’d first bitten into this one, she hadn’t wanted anything else.

She wanted nothing else, as she went to the counter, carrying that little bun wrapped in paper.

The male sidled up the register, clearing his throat as he smiled. Nesta only moved to get her coins and tried not to stare at his face. She didn’t care for the warmth it held.

Liar, she thought. Everyone in Velaris is a liar.

“That will be two silvermarks,” He replied cheerfully.

Nesta pulled out the two coins from her bag and felt her mouth pull into a frown.

Was a bun worth it? She asked herself. Two silvermarks for one bun that would last her only a moment. Apprehension welled up and her stomach twisted in greedy knots. But she set the coins on the counter anyway, the money rattling a harsh ring.

The male dipped his head politely, sliding the silver towards him. Nesta watched as he entered a button on his register and the till opened with a sharp ding.

“We appreciate your business,” he said at last. She nearly grimaced at how chipper he sounded, but he once more smiled warmly and Nesta’s brows furrowed.

Liar times two.

She didn’t note her goodbye even as he called for her to have a nice day and only when she was out of the shop did Nesta unwrap the bun she’d carefully held. She nearly moaned her pleasure as she bit into it. Her favorite part was the yellow custard at the center, and as she took a few more bites, she licked at the cream. Before she knew it the bun was half eaten and Nesta wrapped it once more in paper.

She’d save it. Savor it because it would be the last of them for a while.  

Nesta shuffled along as she walked back to her apartment, cradling the rest of the bun with care.  She blew at her hair that fell into her face, escaping from her braid. It stuck to her sweaty skin. She didn’t like how hot it was, how bright the sun shone, and as she entered the dome of her apartment building, Nesta could only think of getting back into her room, sleeping until it was night again.

No disruptions. No busybodies knocking on her door.

As she looked to the steps, Nesta sighed heavily. She could hear the noise of two little boys.

Oh, right.

“Ms. Nesta! Ms. Nesta!” They called, out of breath.

Nesta waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, but they were not coming from the floors above, but rather the pavilion. They passed that large swaying tree at the center, and Nesta stood straighter as they ran towards her.

“There's a ghost!” The oldest yelled.

“Come quick!” The youngest one said, grabbing on to the skirt of her dress. He pulled her forward and Nesta followed casually, not at all bothered by the notion of ghosts.

They had on matching blue shirts today. Jerseys of some sport Nesta knew nothing about. There were many teams in Velaris, she found, and she never knew if they were from a specific organization or just friends who went out in the world proclaiming that they fit together somehow. Nesta would never do such a thing.

She knew of one group who certainly would.

The youngest let go as he ran towards the laundry room. That was another thing that Nesta thought was strange. To wash clothes by spinning water and dry them using magic. Gods forbid, they hang one piece of cloth.

The boys stopped at the door and waited, and Nesta crossed her arms. “What’s wrong with it?”

“They think it’s haunted,” a voice said from behind.

Nesta turned to find the female leaning up against the tree. She recognized the voice—the light tilt of an accent.

Nesta eyed the fae, taking in the pink fuzzy slippers first. Bunnies, she thought. But Nesta’s gaze caught on the wings tucked so keenly behind her back.

Illyrian.

Nesta almost sighed out her displeasure.

“I gathered, after they said there were ghosts,” she replied.

“There are ghosts,” the eldest boy argued. He held up his hands. “Just wait.”

Nesta shrugged away the female and peered inside. White and dingy washers and dryers were stacked on top of one another. Dutiful soldiers all lined up on each wall. There was an old bubble gum machine at the farthest end that must have stopped working before she was born, because she saw no one ever use it when she came down. Granted Nesta didn’t do it often. But the number of gumballs didn’t seem any lower. It was rusted around the red base, and Nesta didn’t trust the age of the candy inside.  

There was nothing odd about this place, though. She didn’t feel anything off.

“There is no such thing as ghosts,” Nesta said, looking to the boys peering back into the laundry room. She refused to look once more at the female. She squared her shoulders, raised her chin, averted her eyes as she so often did—the way she was good at. Nesta could feel her stare any way.

“You have to believe us!”

“There’s a ghost Ms. Nesta.”

“Did you see a ghost?” Nesta asked, turning to the female who only shrugged a shoulder.

“I might have seen a shadow move around.”

Nesta almost gave her a glare.

“Wait look!”

“See!”

Both boys pointed to the room that began to be overrun by darkness. It reminded her of a shadowed cloud. It filled up the room like water in a bathtub, and Nesta stepped toward it, her brows furrowing as she reached a hand out to feel exactly what the substance was made of.

It felt soft as if she were running her hands down the back of some giant cat.

As if summoned by her thoughts alone, the shadow stepped out of the cloud.  

Meow.

Nesta rolled her eyes as it rubbed its body against her legs.

“It’s just the cat,” She mused.

The three of them merely looked at her as if she’d grown another arm.

Nesta crouched low; her hand held out scratch behind the little cat's ear. She’d forgotten she was holding the bun, and the cat seemed to smell it—to want it.

“Hey!” Nesta yelled, as the cat jumped on her shoulders. Nesta shifted the bun to the other hand, but it seemed to want to crawl down her arm, and she could feel the sharp claws sink into her skin.

“Stay away you mangy thing,” Nesta yelled in outrage. “Pay for your own!”  

The boys laughed, coming closer, petting the menace as the shadow cat purred.

Nesta looked for the female, but the Illyrian seemed to not find them interesting enough. She went back to perch on her tree, or whatever those with wings could do. She could already feel the touch of irritation. Of course, she’d be okay living on the fifth floor. She could fly easily up there without wasting a breath.

“You have a cat!” A voice yelled.

Nesta closed her eyes at the nasally tone.

Just. Her. Luck.  

“No,” the boys said in unison, but the landlord stormed towards them, all shrunken limbs and potted belly.

“I said no pets!” He raved.

“He’s not mine,” Nesta said even as she held it. The cat conveniently had not gotten off her shoulders. In fact, it seemed to want to lounge on them, and she hunched slightly at its claws on her back.

Her landlord sneered, “It sure looks like yours.”

“He’s been here since last fall.” Nesta tried for a haughtier tone, but she couldn’t very wall act arrogant when she couldn’t even stand straight. “He is not mine.”

The landlord wagged his finger, “Vagrant then. I’ll just ought to call the forest prowlers. They’ll tear right into him.”

Nesta blinked at that and she was sure the boys did, too.

“You can’t do that! He’s just a cat,” The oldest said.

“He’s not harming anyone,” The youngest argued. The child’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red and she watched as he clenched his fists while the oldest crossed his arms.

She had to admire them. When she was young, Nesta would have never been so bold. She learned to be bold after her mother had died, and it had done her no good in poverty. Nesta felt for them, felt for the cat—though she didn’t know what kind of creature could eat a shadow.

Nesta didn’t want to ask, but she held up her hand, feeling the regret already settle in her stomach.

“I lied. He is mine.”

Her landlord huffed as if he knew, but Nesta only gripped the cat as it came down her arms. She grasped it in the crook of her elbow. As its body dangled, its tail wagged lazily.

“Get rid of it, there are no pets allowed.”

“Unfortunately, it’s my brother-in-law's pet,” she said quickly, resisting the urge to gag at the phrase. “He told me to take care of it until he could take it back.”

The male paused at that. “Brother-in-law?”

Nesta hummed, “Brother-in-law. It was a gift for my sister, but... she’s allergic to cats. He’s looking to rehouse it. It seems he hasn’t found the right one yet.”

As the landlord sneered, opening and shutting his mouth, Nesta raised her chin. She felt the satisfaction thrum through her at the lie. She was good at making up stories. Perhaps she could find a job in lying through her teeth.

Nesta watched as he took a breath, his face dulling to a peach. She hoped that would be the end of it. She hoped that he’d never get the chance to ask her... brother-in-law... if the story was true. Nesta doubted he would do her any favors.

She didn’t want his favors.

In fact, she’d never mention him again.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to charge a pet deposit then. Nonrefundable. And of course, your rent is going to go up.”

Nesta dropped her custard bun.

“What?” She yelled. “Pets aren’t even allowed!"

“But as you have one, I’m going to have to change the terms of your lease. I’m sure your brother-in-law will have no problem fitting the bill as he’s done before.”

The little shadow cat meowed, wiggling in her arms. She set it down and Nesta watched as it disappeared back into the wall.

Good for nothing...

“You’ll have to keep it on a leash, too,” The male scowled, “I don’t want to break a leg going up the stairs because he’s running about.”

Nesta wanted to tell him that he could break more than just a leg.

“Oh, and make sure he isn't loud. I’d hate to have to terminate your lease early over a noise complaint.”

Her landlord smiled, dipping his head in a mocking bow as he went to yell at another neighbor coming down the stairs. The boys shirked away, looking to the laundry room again.  

Nesta could only kick at the bun at her feet. Now dusted in dirt.

~

Tagged: I’m sorry if you wanted to me tagged and I didn’t tag you. I’m horrible at tagging and you should never consider be reliable for this. I think I tagged everyone who has ever asked to be tagged in any of my random posts of fics. But that’s probably a lie. If you want off/on let me know. I will not be offended nor enthused. I will have only one list from now on. No individual fics. If you asked to be tagged, it’s for all fics. Be forewarned. I’m tired. I hate tag lists. 

@my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @arinbelle, @thewhelk, @daisy-in-danger, @highqueenevankhell, @valkyriae, @lovelynesta, @sirendeepity, @champanheandluxxury, @ladynestaarcheron, @moodymelanist, @teagoddess99, @spoilersteph, 

~

Nesta’s... a little misanthropic. We’re going to beat that out of her through love and healing. 

Personal Anecdote: I put a magnolia tree because at my university there was one in this random place on campus that you couldn’t find unless you knew where the post office was and I was obsessed with sending my mom cards to tell her I was still alive (She lived in a different state). No one ever went there, I never saw more than a few people or maybe they didn’t even know the post office was there. It was tucked in between buildings and it was the definition of serendipity. Little freshman me would go there and sit under it and sometimes eat a taco lol (fried avocado and barbacoa) when I was finished with classes. It bloomed every spring for about three weeks and I yearned for those weeks. I worked so many jobs, took so many classes, but during those weeks the only thing that existed was a tree of magenta and white. I sometimes really miss it. 

[justgenshinstuf]

Hi! If you're still free for requests, I'd love a continuation of the exploring dragonspine hcs, for (uhhh everyone but let's say) Mona, Diona, Lisa and our new boy Xiao - Anon from the last ask 💛

Yay! Thank you for your request and here you go <3

(for other parts check the “exploring dragonspine” tag)

Exploring Dragonspine pt.3

Mona

She hates every second of it.

In no way is she adapted to such cold. Her outfit obviously is not acceptable for this kind of weather, so she has to wear an ugly big coat provided to her by the Adventurer’s Guild.

She also lacks nutrition, considering her limited diet. Some basic food is obviously provided by the guild too, but eating some dried meat and goulash after weeks and weeks of salads is a deadly strike for your stomach.

And when you are hungry even a simple gust of wind can chill you to the bone, and long mountain camping becomes unbearable on a physical level.

The result is she usually whines and complains a lot. Probably even too much, considering all the problems can and should be solved, but experience is just overall unpleasant. She never gives up though or even falls behind. It’s like she can get fuelled by the irritation alone.

What’s worse, she can in no way carry out her astrological readings. It’s usually too cloudy to see the sky during the night and that’s when you don’t stay in some cave. And in the blizzard it’s often impossible to make out the person standing next to you let alone the stars.

On the sunny days when all is seemingly fine the problem is finding water that hasn’t turned into muddy blocks of ice. But if Mona gets lucky to find a running mountain river or even a small melted puddle it’s truly worth it. She says herself that the pure waters of melted snow are optimal for hydromancy, that’s how it’s done the old-school style.

She finds her new motivation in desire to reach the mountain top. To be able to carry out a long deep reading being so much closer to the stars. For her this experience is worth the suffering.

Diona

Being the one to usually complain about anything and everything Diona surprisingly loves the snow.

It’s usually hard to get her so openly excited about something, but snow crunching under the boots and puffy snowflakes slowly falling from the sky do the trick. It’s like she finally lets herself act like a kid.

She is not afraid of the wilderness of these places at all, her cat instincts fully sharpened, little cat-ears twitching at every suspicious sound. Her survival skills are something to learn from truly.

Snow storms ruin the experience though. Diona is not comfortable hiding in some stupid cold cave for long, so if the blizzard calms down by the nighttime she will insist on moving out and continuing the expedition.

Thankfully she can be a decent guide, using her night-vision. “Haha, primitive ones, you can’t even see in the dark!”

As you can guess, this plan doesn’t work for everyone. And if you don’t want to wander around in complete darkness led astray by the wind and snow, paralysed by sheer cold eating you up from the toes, relying solely on a fussy tiny cat-girl, for SOME strange reason that is TOTALLY NOT obvious, there is a way around it.

It’s possible to calm Diona’s temper a bit by simply making her stay by the fireplace for some time. Add some warm drinks or even milk and some casual hugs and Diona will calmly dose off for a few hours.

How to wake her up to go into the windy nightmare of a trip again? Well, you will have to find that out for yourself. A little tip - Diona actually likes to be carried around (but don’t we all?).

At times, when she gets too tired of trying to keep up with the rest, mind you, much taller teammates, she can simply jump up on your back, no questions asked. So be ready to look out for the claws.

Cats will always be cats.

Lisa

Lisa is probably the least outdoorsy person you can imagine. The fact she agrees to go out of her cosy library is a miracle on itself, but Dragonspine? No one will believe you if you tell this.

The truth is, she has a certain private interest in that place, that she wouldn’t reveal this easily. Maybe it’s something about the ruins of an ancient city buried under the snow and the relics it’s inhabitants left behind? Or maybe it has something to do with Durin’s remains and Albedo’s research? As Lisa likes to say herself: “Every woman has a secret”.

An unaware bystander may get a heart-attack seeing Lisa rock her usual outfit in this weather, walking around effortlessly in high-heals like she’s flowing above the snow. The trick is actually pretty simple, she wears a tiny warming Seelie captured in a little bottle as a necklace.

Being both the laziest and the smartest person in Mondstadt, she finds all kinds of clever ways to ‘cheat the system’. For her, creating some obscure method of battling cold on the go is always a better option than prolonging the trip even for a minute.

Warming potions, gliding potions, energy potions, fire potions, anything you can think of Lisa has a potion for. And even if she doesn’t, it takes her a few minutes max to come up with the solution. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we come back. I’m not planning to miss my five o’clock tea.”

If you encounter a puzzle, Liza will solve it for you almost instantly. While you waste your time and warmth looking through old books in desperate need to translate some runes or pace around searching for some clues, all the doors open before Lisa and all the magic barriers fall.

It kind of steals the excitement of riddles, so if you like, she might let you solve it yourself from time to time, just don’t make her wait for too long.

She prefers to keep her usual laidback attitude, avoid unnecessary battles, act efficiently and not waste her energy on something not worth her attention. However her maximum productivity is reached when it’s time to return back home from the expedition.

Lisa can actually just use one of her magic tricks to teleport back to the library almost instantly, but it takes a bit too much energy even for such a skilled mage. Besides, she would never leave her sweet little apprentice all alone.

Xiao

One may say he looks too displeased and totally unhappy to be here but you are well familiar with Xiao to know that’s just his resting face.

He is not concerned by the weather conditions in the slightest, not the rain, not the wind, not the sheer cold. It may seem it gets to him at times. “It’s not. Only mortals can be affected by such minor inconveniences”.

He stays as distant as always, following you on the nearest mountain side or silently dashing through the tops of the trees. Sometimes you can’t even see him, but can always feel his presence.

Xiao patiently keeps the watch during nights, hiding somewhere in the darkness by himself. He never joins you or even enters your tent or a cave you chose to stay in unless you specifically ask him too.

Peeking at him from behind while Xiao sits silently by the fire you can sometimes catch a glimpse of him enjoying the warmth and sound of wood slightly cracking.

He never shows his emotions, nor would he admit to have any in the first place. But sometimes he goes deep into his thoughts, looking around the snowy peaks, listens closely to the wind.

Is it sorrow in his eyes? Or maybe longing? Nostalgia? Is he thinking about some long-lost friend? Just don’t let him catch you staring or he will surely disappear again, looking over you from somewhere you can’t see.

“I have no interest in this place. I’m only escorting you on your quest, so don’t even think about asking questions.”

If you try throw a snowball at him, it might end poorly for you. Better try to explain the concept to him first, that is if you care to have your arm intact. He will claim to have no time for such silly things and the usual bla bla serious adepti stupid mortals kind of deal. But if you still want to start a snowball fight be ready for a snowball war, or even a snowball death.

“You are too carefree. Unlike for me, this place can be very dangerous for you. You don’t want to know about all the dark entities hiding below the snow and ice of this place, it bares many secrets and many lost souls. That’s why I’m here. To protect you”.

[angelicyoongie]

desolate (11)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, smut

— word count: 4.3k

— tag list:  @mrcleanheichou @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @ess-place @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @alltimeyoongi @btstxtgenre​ @honestlyfuriousharmony @itsoktheresbts @suzziequeuie @miss–insanity @illnevertrustmyselfagain @annoyingpessimist @lovelikeyouwant @originalpersonawobblerduck @cigarettes-after-tears @kookie-vuitton @thefangirlsoul @lmna990 @luvshorses08 @nanananisstuff @marvelstuck @kissmeimwitchy @crazyxforxmyself @hxsxxk-180294 @ratking101 @brittaney341 @shameless-army @yuukihime2097 @adoorinyourheart @heimdoodle @kissing-fear @toripeix @horanghae18 @redperson58 @awsome-small-k @salomea27 @johnnystolemywig @mihto @jisoosbitch @lyrxbz @forever-once-gone @sugalarity @out-of-jams @ithinkileftmycoatoutside @witchxlove @chocoflagcutii @alyboo-jpeg​ @ladyartemesia @tatiiz24 @boinko-boye @kaceyxmarie74 @fuckthatfeeling​ @makepastanotwar13​ @airiguk​ @justliketheoceann @strawbewymiwk​ @skswriting​ @kofikats​ @rainbow-zebra-unicorns​ @mhmbrigitta @forever-yoongis​ @prybts​ @phatbussyincorporated @itsmethepancake​ @alterlovess​ @boredoomfm​ @furblrwurblr​

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

(A/N: I realized I had accidentally named both the older co-worker and Yoongi’s first owner as “Mr. Park”, so I have gone back to change Y/n’s co-worker’s name to Mr. Yang lol) “Yoongi?” You call out, your voice barely audible above the heavy showers thundering down against the asphalt. You skid to a stop as you see a dark figure round a corner, the silhouette barely visible against the imposing darkness of the alleyways. There’s no way of knowing if it’s even Yoongi, but you’re grasping at straws at this point.

You’ve lost track of where you are, the brick walls and cement structures all blending together into a concrete jungle you’re not sure you’ll ever make it out of. You’ve never strayed so far from your own neighbourhood before, and the tightness in the back of your neck reminds you that maybe it’s better to keep moving. You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, every fleeting shadow making your skin crawl.

Your soaked shoes hit the pavement loudly as you turn to run after the figure, the sound echoing between the high walls. You managed to slip on a pair of shoes and a jacket before you braved the horrible autumn weather, but Yoongi didn’t, and you don’t even want to imagine how drenched he must be by now.

You’re panting by the time you make it to the end of the alleyway, the closed space suddenly opening up into a small park. It’s raining so heavy you can hardly see anything that’s further away than your hand, and a loud crack of thunder sends you scurrying across the open patch of grass until you’re huddled underneath a big tree. The red leaves that are still clinging on provides a little bit of shelter against the harsh weather, and you lean heavily against the trunk, exhausted after running up and down the streets for hours.

You just need to take a little breather before you start searching for him again, you’re not going home until you find him. You wince as raindrops start trickling down your neck, obviously your coat won’t provide you with much protection anymore. You let your eyes glide across the small park, surprised that it seems to be pretty well maintained despite the rough area you’re in. Even the little kids area seems to have been left alone, you can’t even spot a trace of graffiti on the playground equipment.

All of you attention is on the bright red tubes, and you swear you catch something move inside one of them as you squint to get a better look. You hesitate – unsure if checking it out is a good idea or not considering you’re all alone in an area you’re not familiar with. But the sense of what if wins over your anxiety of what might be lurking inside. You’ve already come this far; you might as well just sneak a peak to calm your mind.  

Despite the rain, you take your time moving across the grounds. The wet gravel crunches obnoxiously loud underneath your shoes as you get closer to the tubes, and it must be alerting whatever is inside of them of your presence.

“Hello?” You carefully call out, but nothing greets you back aside from the insistent thrumming of rain against plastic. The tubes are a little higher up than you expected, and your hands are shaking with nerves by the time you use them to lift yourself up to get a peek inside. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust; the tubes pitch black from the lack of light outside. Nothing.

You feel your stomach tighten with disappointment at the empty space. You’re ready to let go and leave when a flash of lightening sends you rushing inside, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest in fright as the sky lets out another loud crack of thunder directly over you head.

You bring your knees to your chest, your shaky breaths echoing down the tube as you try to get your pulse under control. You think you’ve just about managed to get it back to normal when you hear a sound further down the tunnel, just around the sharp turn you can’t see anything past.

Your mind is screaming at you to leave– to brave the rain and thunder instead of staying cooped up in here with god knows what. But you can’t help but feel that there’s a pull, something that’s urging your body to move deeper into the tubes. Your muscles are locked up and stiff with fear as you begin to crawl further into it, but it’s still not enough to stop you. Your fingers scrape against the plastic as you move closer to the sharp turn, your body already aching from the cramped space. You’re too scared to breathe; it feels like the pitch darkness is going to swallow you up the moment you make a sound.

As you reach the turn, an unknown whimper makes you freeze in your tracks. It’s hard to make out over the loud raindrops pelting against the plastic above your head, but if you strain your ears enough, you can just about make out the low noise.

You learn two things at once.

One, you’re definitely not alone in here, and two, the other person in here with you is crying. It’s obvious they want to be left alone if they’ve hid themselves away so well, but what if they’re hurt? Or what if ..

You peek around the corner, the darkness making it hard to make out the shape of the person further down the tunnel. They’re curled into on themselves, hands covering their face as their low sobs ring through the enclosed space. The sobs are just so desperately sad that it makes your own eyes sting, and you’re trying to blink away the tears when another boom of thunder sounds just over your heads, the sky flashing white as lightening strikes. The light is enough to illuminate the tube from the other side, and it doesn’t last longer than a second, but it’s enough.

You scramble forward, the metal bolts on the floor digging into your palms as you hurry over to the huddled form.

“Yoongi,” You choke, your voice alerting the cat hybrid of your presence.

He jerks, head bumping against the top of the tube as he lets out a garbled hiss. You can see the outline of his puffed out tail as it trashes back and forth, his narrowed eyes looking almost golden in the poor light.

“It’s me, Y/n,” You breathe as you crawl closer, the tight space making it hard to move as fast as you want to. The wild look in Yoongi’s eyes passes as he recognizes your voice, and another garbled noise escapes his lips. The cat hybrid’s posture still screams hostility, but you don’t even pause before throwing your shaking arms around his shoulders, bringing him flush against your body.

Yoongi stiffens at the contact, his tail nearly whacking you in the face as it continues to whip wildly behind his back. The space you’re in is awkward and cramped, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind it as he melts against your warmth, his face tucked into your neck as he lets out a harsh breath.

You hug him closer, wrapping your body around his as much as possible. Yoongi is more drenched than you, his shirt clinging to his body like a second skin. Your fingers skim across his neck as you bring them up to his hair, and he’s absolutely freezing to the touch.

“Yoongi, we need to get you warmed up,” You murmur, wincing at the scratchiness in your throat from all the yelling. Yoongi doesn’t answer; only buries his face deeper into your neck as you gently run your fingers through his hair. And then something wet hits your collarbone. It takes you a second to figure out how you even noticed it considering you’re already soaking wet, but the realization hits you as it happens again. It’s not icy raindrops falling against your skin, no– it’s tears.  

It dawns on you just as Yoongi lets out a heart wrenching sob, his whole body shaking in your hold. You tug him closer, biting back a startled gasp as he presses his ice-cold nose into your neck. Your heart absolutely shatters from the choked sobs that leave Yoongi’s lips. You’re desperate to make him feel better, but how is that even possible given what he just learned? His mother had been murdered. You feel bile rise in your throat as you’re reminded of the mug shot of your old neighbour. You never suspected a thing.

You’ve had nothing but time to think in the last hours searching for him, your mind whirring through all the information you’ve ever stored about Park Geunho. It was almost too easy to connect the dots – Yoongi’s story matching up with your memories perfectly.

Mr. Park hardly ever left his house, but he always had new people coming to visit him. At the time you thought it was weird, but for all you knew, maybe he just had a lot of friends and didn’t like to socialize outside of his own home. Fluffball’s weight seemed to always dramatically change too, you swear he seemed to suddenly gain a lot of weight and then go back to normal way too quickly. The times you didn’t see him for weeks you would ask Mr. Park where he was, and the man would usually answer that Fluffball was just too lazy to go outside. It didn’t make sense back then, but it does now.

It’s not like you checked if Fluffball was ever a boy or a girl, your young mind just assumed the black cat was a boy and left it at that. Mr. Park just called Fluffball “cat”, so it wasn’t like he ever gave you any pointers to what the gender might have been. The sudden weight gain and loss doesn’t add up if Fluffball was a boy, but if it was a girl, it could’ve been pregnancy. If Mr. Park was illegally breeding hybrids and selling them off like the reporter said, then .. it matches up.

It would make sense if Fluffball gained weight because she was pregnant, and then lost the weight once her children were born. The random people visiting him must have been buyers, and you suppose he hardly ever left home in fear that the hybrids would either escape, or someone would figure it out. You’re honestly surprised Fluffball was even allowed to go outside, but come to think of it, you probably weren’t much of a threat, as young as you were. You had always thought of Mr. Park as too stern and a little scary, but looking back at it now, it wasn’t just sternness in his voice whenever he called for Fluffball, it was animosity.

But, what makes you the most sick to your stomach, is that you now know why Fluffball passed away so suddenly. Mr. Park had killed her. And you had helped him bury her in his garden. He hadn’t even looked remotely sad, his face a blank canvas while you cried your eyes out for the sweet cuddly cat you’d grown so fond of. There’s no wonder you thought you saw a ghost when you visited the shelter and found Yoongi. He’s a splitting image of Fluffball – his mom.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you rest your head on top of Yoongi’s, your own tears silently sliding down your cheeks as you press your lips to his hair. All of this had been going on next door and you didn’t even know. You had been standing next to murderer and you didn’t ever realize that something was even remotely off. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself. It makes you feel guilty.

Do you even have the right to comfort Yoongi? Should you even be allowed to touch him?

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper. You’re sorry Yoongi ever had to experience something like this in the first place, that his life has been nothing but pain and uncertainty. You’re sorry you couldn’t stop it. And you’re sorry that even now, you let yourself feel relived that you found him, that you even dare to feel happy to have him in your arms.

You’re not sure how long it takes before Yoongi’s sobs turn softer, the steady stream of tears running down your neck calming down to a few stray droplets as he takes deep, shaky breaths. You loosen your grip around his back once he starts pulling away, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks instead. His pale skin is blotchy, the white in his eyes rimmed red from all the crying. You press soft pecks to the apple of his cheeks, your thumbs running slowly back and forth over his cold skin.

“Do you want to go home?” You ask. Your soaking wet clothes have dried up a little, but it’s not enough to warn off the bone chilling cold that has settled into your body. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you first set out to follow him, but it’s enough for the temperature to have dropped drastically. You can stay out in the frigid weather all night if Yoongi needs you to, but you’re honestly more worried about him than yourself. He’s way too cold.

“Yeah, lets go home,” The hollow tone in his voice breaks you all over again, so you just settle for a nod, and a soft smile to mask the guilt forcing itself up your throat.

You slip your coat around Yoongi’s shoulders once you both crawl outside of the tubes, the cat hybrid not making a sound as you gently grasp his hand to lead him back home. The rain has let up from a heavy downpour to a light drizzle, and it makes it a little easier for you to spot certain buildings you think might lead you in the right direction. Your phone is dead, so there’s no use trying to look up anything there. You wince for every step Yoongi takes on the cold ground, his bare feet red and bruised from all the walking.

You let out a sigh of relief as you finally see your building, the tall structure looking like beacon of light in the darkness. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as you tug him back upstairs, nor does he protest when you help him peel the freezing clothes of his ice-cold body. You leave him to take a shower as you hurry into the kitchen, heating up some canned soup you find stuffed into the back of your pantry. It might not be the best, but it just needs to serve its purpose, and that is to heat Yoongi back up.

Your hands hurt as you carefully ladle the soup into a deep bowl, the warm air in your apartment making your fingers burn as they start to thaw from the cold. You make it into the living room with the food just as Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, and you quickly usher him over to the couch to eat.

“I’ll just go get changed real quick, okay?” You say, not really moving from Yoongi’s side until the cat hybrid gives you a stiff nod in response. You make fast work of snatching up warm clothes from your room, wasting no time as you hurry over to the bathroom.

You swear you could almost cry out of relief as you freezing body steps in under the warm cascading water, your numb limbs finally regaining feeling. But you don’t stay there for very long. The moment you’re sure you can move all your body parts normally; you’re out of there – hastily drying yourself off before tugging on the dry clothes.

Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch since you left him, the spoon you laid out for him still perched next to the bowl on the table. His hands are clasped together tightly between his knees, eyes staring mindlessly at a spot on your wall. You slowly slide down next to him on the couch, his ears not even twitching in your direction. You’ve noticed his cat ears seem work on pure instinct, immediately moving to follow whatever sound they pick up on. So the fact that they don’t even stir when you’re so close is worrying – because that means Yoongi is too deep into his own thoughts to hear you, and that’s probably not the best place for him to get lost in right now.

“Yoongi,” You softly call his name as you reach out for his intertwined fingers. You carefully pry his hands apart to place the spoon in his palm, nudging the bowl closer to the edge of the table. Yoongi blinks, his gaze moving from the wall to his hand, his fingers slowly closing around the utensil. His eyes trail over to you; the confused and empty look on his face making your stomach lurch.

“You need to eat,” You remind him. Yoongi watches you for another moment before he nods, his gaze moving back to the steaming soup in front of him. If the situation were different you would’ve felt like a creep just sitting there and watching Yoongi eat, but truthfully, you are pretty sure he never would have taken a bite unless he knew you were.

You wait until the bowl is half empty before you ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue all night.

“Why did you leave?”

Yoongi places the spoon back into the soup with a small shrug, his ears falling back into his hair as he stares down at the steaming food.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse and raw. “The only thing I could think of was just that I needed to find that fucker and hurt him in the same way he hurt my mom,” The last few words slips out as a hiss, Yoongi’s lips twisting into a snarl as he remembers the report.

“I still do,” He adds, “I can’t let him get away with this.”

“I’ll help you,” Yoongi is shocked at the conviction in your voice, his eyes flying up to meet yours in surprise. You didn’t only have time to think about Mr. Park and Yoongi’s mom, but also why the other cases in the news report had felt so familiar. They were all from your company.

There’s no cases you have worked on yourself, but you know that one of them was Jihyo’s, and you’ve heard bits and pieces about the others from your co-workers. You had no idea about Mr. Park, his case must’ve been dealt with before you started working there, but you’re certain that the conveniently timed breaches the office has been having these last weeks has to be tied to this.

Jihyo’s case still leaves a sour taste in your mouth, and you can remember how distraught she was when her client’s claim got overruled. That’s probably the hardest aspect of your job, the fact that you can’t do anything else after you hand over all the information and evidence you’ve collected to the lawyer in charge. Jihyo was convinced something was off about it, but neither of you are in a position where your opinion matters, and so it wouldn’t have made a difference. If only, it probably would’ve made the cases of Jihyo’s future clients even more difficult to win, if members of the court already disliked her because she had voiced her concerns.  

You’re certain your company is connected to all of this, and your suspect hasn’t exactly been subtle with how he’s been sneaking around on your floor lately. But there’s only one way to find out for sure, and you’re more than ready to get to the bottom of this. You already made a promise to yourself that you would make the ones who had hurt Yoongi pay – and you sure as hell intend to keep it.

.

You’re not surprised at how quiet the office is the following day, it seems like a good chunk of your co-workers must have seen the news and arrived at the same conclusion. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but at least that your company was targeted for a reason. You had texted Jihyo about her case yesterday as well, and your friend looks like she hasn’t slept a wink. She has deep circles underneath her eyes, her usually bright and glowy skin looking dull and tired. Frowning, you take your seat, making a mental note to pick something up for her on your break.

You’re honestly not doing much better yourself. You kept waking up all night to make sure Yoongi was still curled up at the bottom of your bed, the black lump of fur soothing your anxiety just enough to fall back asleep, but not enough that it lasted for more than an hour. You were apprehensive about leaving him at home all by himself, but you quickly shut down that train of thought. Yoongi is an adult. He can leave your apartment whenever he wants to, and he’s more than capable to take care of himself.

You sigh, trying your best to ignore the gnawing worry in your stomach. After all, you have an important mission you need to do today. The day trickles by slowly, your anxiety only growing for each passing hour you’re left alone with your thoughts. You have no guarantee that your hunch is right, but you’re honestly not sure what terrifies you more – cornering the lanky guy from the IT department only to find out he has nothing to do with it, or finding out that he does. You don’t know what lengths this hacker group is willing to go to, or what this guy might be capable of doing. It would be easy to pretend you never noticed anything, but you can’t. This isn’t about you, this is about Yoongi.

You wave Jihyo off when she offers to stay back and wait for you at the end of the day, your nerves at an all time high as your co-workers start leaving one by one. You’re basically bouncing in your seat as you bid the last one goodbye; the floor suddenly plunged into silence. You swallow hard, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you rise to your feet. You still haven’t figured out the best way to approach him, but you figure you can always use your computer as an excuse.

The stairwell is silent as you make your way down, and it’s only the sound of your footsteps bouncing of the walls that is keeping you company. You pause to take a deep breath once you reach the door to the IT department, trying your best to convince your fried nerves that he might not even be in today.

But of course, that gets thrown out the window as soon as you step inside. There’s only one desk that’s still on, and it’s his. The man startles as the door slams shut behind you, and he jumps out of his seat as you get closer. He hovers awkwardly behind his chair, tongue wetting his lips nervously as he sees your gaze flicker over to the cat-formed sticky notes pad he still has on his desk.

”Did you do it?” The words tumble out of your lips before you can zip them shut, and you groan inwardly at your lack of tact. Well, that’s one way to do it.

“I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” The man stutters, his eyes flickering to the door behind you.

“The breach. I’ve seen you sneaking around our floor upstairs, and it just doesn’t feel like a coincidence that so many of our files suddenly ended up on the news yesterday,” You try to keep your voice level, desperately hoping that he can’t hear the slight tremor in it as you speak.

The man’s face grows white as you take a step closer, his throat bobbling as he grips the back of his chair tighter.

“N-no, I d-don’t have anything to d-do with it,” He vigorously shakes his head, his long hair flying side to side from the movement. Your eyes zero in on the weird pattern you noticed last time, and you feel like everything finally clicks into place as you realize what it is.

Scales.

This man must be a hybrid too. And he’s probably terrified of being found out. It’s pretty much unheard of that hybrids work along side humans without their owners, and he must’ve been putting himself into grave danger by showing up here every day for work.

“Oh okay, my mistake then,” You take a hesitant step back, the extra space seemingly calming the hybrid down.

You don’t believe him. If anything, you’re now more sure than ever that he has to have something to do with this, but the added uncertainty of not knowing what kind of hybrid he is, and what he’ll do if you corner him further isn’t worth it. You’ll have to come up with a better plan.

“I have some information on one of the files, but I see I was mistaken. My apologies,” You smile gently, hoping he’ll take the bait. That seems to make him pause, his eyes once again flickering over to something behind you before his tense posture suddenly relaxes.

“And what kind of information might that be, Y/n?” The deep voice behind your back nearly gives you a heart attack. You whip around to find Mr. Yang standing there with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his lips as he takes in your shocked expression.

“What?” You gape, dumbfounded at his sudden appearance.

“I don’t think Ki-won is the person you’re looking for,” Mr. Yang gestures to the hybrid.

“If you have anything you want to share, then you should do so with me. I’m the one who orchestrated the breach.”

You open and close your mouth, no words leaving your lips as you stare back at the older man. Even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never expected Mr. Yang to be behind it, not when he’s one of the few workers who’s been with the company for the longest time. Maybe you’re a little out of your depth.

“And I suppose you’re here because of your cat hybrid?” Scratch that. You’re definitely way out of your depth.

- - - - the next chapter will finally explain everything, and y/n might have to share a secret she doesn’t want yoongi to find out about ..  as always, i hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! see you all soon! in case you maybe enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 AND please check out the posting schedule for july if you haven’t already!

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 3

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No one would imagine that a single drop could be the start of something so big. However, it would earn itself great meaning after a while passed. Should it continue pouring, it could also summon boundless blessings and curses.

Love was almost like rain.

   The Journey and the Auto-Memories Doll

   That one was a rain of betrayal.

It started with a calm morning, the sky unfolding without any hints of being enshrouded in dark clouds. Regardless, it did not take too long for the capricious rain brought by the heavens to turn into a downpour rarely seen in recent years.

There was no longer any sign of the rain that had started to fall like gentle kisses from paradise on the black hats of gentlemen walking around town, over the backs of cats dozing under the sun or onto the cheeks of children who opened their mouths and burst into laughter. The current season was the end of summer, and it was raining for the first in a long while in Leidenschaftlich, where the skies were constantly clear in summer, but had the god that controlled weather gone crazy? With time, as if a bucket had turned over, the city was hit by a flood.

This story is about an uneventful day, which did nothing but pass, in the lives of people who worked at a certain postal company.

   The rain and wind struck the entire building as if attacking it. The doorbell rang loudly because of this, a man standing in place and staring at it with unease.

Creak-creak, the door moved. Ring-ring, the bell resounded. Since it was ringing despite there being no customers, he had become concerned and found himself coming down from his residence in the top floor.

In the previous year, the building had been shot with rocket artillery, and not only had it earned an enormous hole but a fire had also occurred – however, thanks to the quick skills of workmen, the hole was now closed and the walls had been neatly rebuilt.

The man was a stylish redhead. He was the president of this company, which he had named after himself.

Claudia Hodgins had been left all alone in the empty postal office. Still, it was normal for him to be there, as it was both his home and workplace. However, since he was by himself at a time that would usually still be within business hours, no matter what, he looked like he had been abandoned.

The postal office had been in great turmoil because of the storm. Surely, so had its peers. With the deliveries stagnated, complaints were coming from the clients. Nevertheless, the transportation was not carried out by machines devoid of feelings. It was something done by humans, who had been given birth to by someone and who had families waiting for them when they returned home. In lieu of the unpreceded disaster, as the president, he had notified all employees that business would be closed for today.

To begin with, the customers had stopped coming in the middle of the day. If he had to say so himself, this might be the expected. Deliberately going outside amidst such strong wind and torrential rain was an act of sheer madness.

Curious about what was going on outside, Hodgins had approached the entrance from the side. He felt like attempting to open the large doors just a little. He wanted to see how inundated the ground was. Just when he slow and carefully reached a hand towards it, the door opened with force despite him not doing anything.

“Ow...!”

“Oh, my bad. More importantly, we’re screwed; it’s just impossible, Old Man!”

Hodgins was teary-eyed as his precious nose took a hit. He was lightheaded for an instant due to the pain, but soon regained consciousness. After all, one of his employees had come back dripping-wet. Hodgins pulled him – whole body wrapped in rain gear – by the arm, bringing him inside and closing the door. Although it was only open for a few seconds, the entrance was already drenched.

The visitor took off the hood over his head, allowing his face to be seen. He was a splendidly handsome and fine man of sky-blue eyes and sandy-blond hair.

“Benedict...!”

Benedict Blue. One of the postal company’s postmen, who had been working in it ever since its founding.

“It’s impossible – actually, it’s absurd! Working under this rain is absurd! I look like I’m in the bath already. I wouldn’t have come here if I weren’t soaked... Making the staff pull out was the right choice,” Benedict said as if angry-yelling, shaking his head in the same way that a dog or cat would and splattering water splashes at Hodgins.

This wetted most of Hodgins’s shirt and face, but he was unable to reprimand his employee, who had been doing strenuous effort. He accepted it in resignation, wiping Benedict’s face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Okay, stay put.”

“Uoh, what’s with you? Stop.”

“Welcome home. I was worried. Good thing you’re all right.”

“O-Oh. What, hum... I’m back... You were worried about me?”

“Of course,” Hodgins said, to which Benedict turned away with an obviously embarrassed attitude after a moment of bewilderment.

Outside, vases and planters that may have been at the eaves of people’s houses, as well as shop signs, had been turning into weapons for a while now, dancing around the city along with the wind. Managing to come back unharmed and safely amidst this weather, where one could not know what would come flying their way, was something to be happy about.

“I’m just fine. This job’s easier than running around shooting guns. Anyway, I was left with the letters and packages of a guy who fell from his motorcycle and came back by myself. Was best to do that, right?”

“Aah, so someone got hurt?”

“That newbie, Clark. But he only scrapped his knees. He fell lots of times when he was learning how to ride, but for real, it’s surprisingly depressing when you fall off other than during practice. He was crying, y’see.”

“Aah~.”

Knowing who the person in question was, Hodgins pitied him. He was the youngest postman to join the company as of late. It was difficult to find human resources for postmen as they were quick to quit.

“He’s young, after all...”

“You call him young but... he’s already a grown man. I wonder if he ain’t lying to us about his age... I thought he was a baby or something.”

“You can’t compare him to a city boy fresh from the battlefield like yourself. I’m gonna get you a towel and a change of clothes now, so don’t move from there.”

“Why?”

“You’d wet the floor. Don’t tell me to go around cleaning up where you walked.”

“Clean it up,” he said while laughing, to which Hodgins’s shoulders slumped. He was a reliable companion, but also a young man who knew not how to show respect for his elders.

——Well, guess I’m a so-called doting parent for thinking that’s cute – no, doting boss.

Anyhow, they needed towels, Hodgins thought as he went back to his room. He grabbed a few large towels and held a pair of trousers and shirt that Benedict would apparently fit into under his arm. Then returned to the ground floor. By the time he did so, the number of people had increased.

“Uwah... Amazing, it’s like squeezing a rag.”

There were three more other than Benedict. If they were to be separated by types, one of them had evacuated after receiving a report of work, one had evacuated after finishing work, and one had been ordered to clock out, but all had come back halfway through, as their bodies were about to be blown off by the overwhelming storm.

“Please stop.” There was Violet Evergarden, whose golden hair was in Benedict’s grasp.

“Why? You said your hair was wet.”

“You just want to touch Violet’s hair, Benedict. Isn’t that right?” Lux Sibyl, who had given up on wiping her glasses and was glaring at the empty space.

“That’s not it. Don’t say weird stuff, Lux.”

“You knooow, my hair’s just as long as Violet’s.” And Cattleya Baudelaire, who scowled at Benedict with her arms crossed.

The members who had been there ever since the founding were Violet, Cattleya and Benedict, but Lux, having joined midway, was now a skillful secretary who covered up the schedule of the employees and president and moved them around like chess pieces. As the four people whose ages were close to each other’s came together, the conversation naturally livened up.

“You—You’re that kinda thing. If I touch you in a place like this, it’d be that kinda thing. This is our workplace, so there’s all that kinda thing. Morally speaking, it’s that kinda thing.”

“What do you mean ‘morally speaking’?!”

“I wish you wouldn’t say those things even if you think about them. Right, Violet?”

“‘Public morals’...? Benedict, what am I from your point of view?”

“V, you’re like a little sister to me... Aah, Old Man, gimme another towel.”

It was a terribly joyful thing that the company’s young aces had returned to it safe and sound.

“Everyone, don’t move from that spot no matter what. Hey, Cattleya! Don’t move!”

However, wiping all the water off the bodies of those four turned out to be a bone-breaking work.

   Out of kindness, Hodgins invited the four people who had gathered up at the postal company to his residence in the top floor.

The whole floor was his apartment, thus it was quite large. A family of five could live comfortably in it. The furnishings were arranged in wooden items and serene shades of dark brown and green. It was a relaxed, adult atmosphere, where was nothing particularly funny. It had a faint scent of the perfume that Hodgins always wore.

The invited four let out sighs of relief. The biggest reason for it, although there was also the fact that this was Hodgins’s apartment, was that they were able to escape the horrible situation outdoors. With the exception of Lux, three of them were tough enough to take part in the act of physically crushing other postal companies, but human beings could not win against natural disasters.

“Hey, what do we do? We can’t go home anymore, can we?”

“There’s nothing we can do. We got no choice but stay in Old Man’s place.”

“First time something like this happens, huh. But we’re all together, so... might be imprudent of me to say this, but... it’s a bit fun. Violet, are you worried about your home?”

“Yes, about the flowerbeds.”

“You should say ‘about the people back home’, V.”

“The two went on a trip, so they are away. I promised that I would take care of the flowers in their absence, which is why... I am worried about the flowerbeds. Besides, if that house were to be destroyed by this storm, this place would meet its end much sooner... We have little time left to live.”

“Don’t go from talking about your family to destroying the company, Little Violet. Hey, hey, everyone, you’ll catch a cold so get changed first. Put the towels in the laundry basket. Benedict, don’t throw the towels wherever!”

As told by Hodgins, the employees firstly decided to change their clothes.

Violet and Cattleya had just returned from a work trip of two days and one night, thus they had a change of nightclothes in their bags, but Benedict and Lux did not. Although there was a height difference between them, Hodgins had no issues with lending clothes to Benedict, who was also a man, but there was a need for careful selection when it came to Lux.

“Shirt... shirt, shirt; all I have is shirts.”

“Hum, President, I’m fine with anything.”

“Eeh... that okay?”

As a result, the boy and girl came into the scene wearing baggy clothes. Benedict looked almost the same as when he and Hodgins first met. When he was left to chance completely naked in a desert, he had borrowed a shirt and trousers just as he was doing now. He seemed pleased with it, however...

“Feels kinda naughty...”

...the problem was Lux.

“Benedict’s fine, but maybe it won’t do for Little Lux? Is this okay?” Hodgins asked everyone with a meek face.

They all had at last settled down, each seated in a place of their preference while sipping tea. The employees were relaxing as if they were in their own homes. Contrary to the peaceful state of the situation inside, there was still a sound of rain hitting the windows and a troubled noise of something colliding against the building outside.

“What is ‘okay’ supposed to mean?” Sitting on the sofa, Violet tilted her head. Being comfortably dressed in a dusty-pink nightwear gave her usually disciplined self a slightly soft and gentle air.

“Little Violet.”

“Yes.”

“Your nightgown is cute, huh.”

“The people from the household bought it for me. Well, what is ‘okay’ supposed to mean? Was there any problem?”

“Little Lux’s clothes.”

For whatever reason, they had the person in question standing in the center of the room. With everyone’s eyes on her, she seemed uneasy.

“Hum... why do I have to stand in the middle?”

“Little Lux, stay like that and don’t move.”

“All right.”

“What is wrong with Lux’s look? You mean to say it lacks adornment?”

“Why would that be the case, Little Violet?”

“You are the one who chooses attires for us Dolls and you have particularities regarding the clothing and accessories, so I concluded that you might deem the plain shirt as not enough.”

“No, no.” Hodgins flailed both hands. The things he was saying had a moral value to them, out of fear that her outfit was perhaps vulgar.

Benedict had dealt with it by securing her trousers with a belt, but as Lux had too thin a waist, the outcome was the belt falling off. In short, she was not wearing pants. Inevitably, she was dressed in nothing but a shirt. However, her short stature fortunately made it look like a shirt-dress.

As Hodgins explained his concern, everyone said, “I see.”

Showered with their stares more and more, Lux began to blush.

“It gives off a dangerous feeling when you think she ain’t wearing any, but on second thought, isn’t that the same for skirts? There’s actually an open hole in them, but it’s not visible, so they’re classified as clothes. No big deal, is it?” Benedict had been standing with his back against the wall just a moment ago, yet had suddenly drawn close to her and started examining her fixatedly.

“Don’t say ‘not wearing any’!”

“Well, I mean, you really ain’t wearing any... but that’s okay. No biggie. You’re probably not an option for Old Man, so no worries. Right?”

“That’s rude!”

“I’m saying you don’t need to worry about that kinda thing... Should I take mine off, then? I see; I’m fine with it. I’ll be the same as you. That all right? I’m gonna take it off.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” As Benedict put a hand to his belt while laughing, Lux repeatedly hit his chest with her fists to stop him. Lux was red up to her ears. “I can’t take this anymore! Violet! Take Benedict to over there!”

“Understood.”

“Owowowow, V, ouch, that’s not it; it was the Old Man who said weird stuff first. We’re friends, so I was showing that she doesn’t have to get hung up over something like...”

Caught in Violet’s arms, Benedict obediently sat on the sofa. Perhaps in order not to allow him to escape, she gripped his hands and sat next to him.

Cattleya cut through the silence, “The tea is delicious.” She was scattered over the bed. She must have been tired from returning from the Doll business trip. Her eyes were downcast. She might be sleepy.

“Cattleya, do you not have any comments to make? I want to hear lots of opinions.”

“Eeeh, me?” Cattleya joined the needless debate as if it were a bother. “Hmmm... if someone were making her wear this because it’s their taste, it’d be gross indeed, but there’s no other clothes for her... It’d also be horrible to leave her with just a towel wrap, so I think it’s valid. Speaking of which, President...”

“Hm?”

“You’re saying that even though you pick open-chested clothes for my Doll outfits? And the times you were choosing Doll attires for me, y’knooow, you were never so considerate to say ‘not this, not this either’ when discussing it with the people from the made-to-order store...”

Her manner of speech was somewhat thorny, but Hodgins did not make much out of it. “That’s because they look good on you.” Rather, he said decisively, with an earnest gaze and excessive confidence, “Because they look good on you. Is my judgement wrong?”

“E-Eh?” Being replied to so unapologetically, Cattleya’s reasoning jumbled up, to the point she found herself wondering if she was the one in the wrong.

The Doll outfit that Cattleya usually wore was composed mainly of a crimson dress-coat, so there was no mistaking that one could not wear it unless the person was remarkably stylish. In addition, there was also no doubt that it was lascivious. Whoever looked at her would find their line of sight momentarily going to her chest. Still, whoever looked at her would remember the woman named Cattleya Baudelaire at once.

“No... it’s not like your choices are wrong... but I only forgive you because you’re the boss. I was shocked when you first showed me that outfit! I didn’t use to wear something like that before.”

“Well, but y’see, an hourglass-shaped person looks more slender when the area around their collarbone is exposed, and it’s pretty.”

An evident question mark floated above Violet’s head at the unfamiliar word. Benedict pointed a finger at the tea set arranged on the nearby table. An hourglass used to measure the time it took to steam the tealeaves was lying there. Perhaps finding the similarity between it and a plump chest and dainty hips, Violet nodded as if convinced.

“You’ve got an hourglass-shaped figure with that slim waist, so I gave you a coat-dress that puts this on display. You can adjust it with the ribbon, so it’s not a pain, right? It has a wonderful line in mathematical terms, y’know? Plus, you also have a cheerful character, so it doesn’t look vulgar. That’s important. It means that outfit takes into consideration even the personality of the one wearing it. And the owner of that made-to-order store is famous not just in this country but abroad. The outfits of our Dolls are on a whole different level in comparison to other companies, aren’t they?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“I don’t want to bring this up, but they’re very expensive.”

“Eh, I’m sorry. S-Should I pay you back? Either that or you can dock my salary...”

“No, you’re my Doll, after all. Nobody waters a flower to get money off it, right? It’s fine, Cattleya. Just stay pretty. It’s exactly because I have obsessions over clothes that I don’t want to make a girl look vulgar. And it’s exactly because I like girls that I want to have them shine wonderfully. That’s also why I have a few complaints about Little Lux’s usual plain clothes, though...”

“I don’t know why you decided to run a mail service, President, but I accept that passion of yours. I’ll wear those clothes with care. But, President, I’m doing my best, so I want a new outfit. A cute one.”

Listening to the conversation of the two in silence, perhaps tired of going along with her superior, Lux looked at Violet and Benedict’s direction with a gaze that quietly asked for help. There was a gap on the sofa that seemed enough for one person to sit. Having locked eyes with her, Violet told Benedict to scoot over after a brief moment and patted the open spot. Lux sat next to them, looking happy.

“Violet, what’re you drinking?” Lux peeked at the teacup that Violet was holding.

“I wonder. I took the tealeaves that were in the kitchen. I do not know what type of tea it is.”

“Darjeeling.”

“Benedict, how did you know?”

“‘Cause that guy likes Darjeeling. All the tea cans he has are nothing but that.”

“Guess I’m gonna drink that too; my body got cold from the long time under the rain.”

“Heeey, the three of you who ended the talk before we noticed! Listen to what I have to say.” Hodgins put his hands on his hips, pretending to be angry.

“We were deviating from the main subject. We deemed that it was not a necessary conversation and took action prioritizing Lux’s rest,” Violet expressed with a clear voice tone.

“Besides, this talk’s about bedroom wear, ain’t it?” Benedict added a two-fold retort. The blond, blue-eyed duo that looked like siblings stared at Hodgins with questioning eyes.

“Ugh, I comply with you two no matter what you say when you both look at me at the same time, so cut it out. But I’m not giving up. I think she needs one more article of clothing.”

“Hum... President, I’m okay with this. I’m already thankful that I could borrow your clothes. Besides, when you make such a big fuss about it, things that weren’t lewd in the first place start to seem lewd, so to say,” Lux said, wanting to end this topic as fast as possible.

“The solution has come to me. Wouldn’t it be best if I took the shirt and trousers and had Lux wear this nightgown?”

However, Violet wound up rewinding it.

——Violet!

Lux hit Violet repeatedly in her mind.

“Ah~, that’s right. If that’s the case, I can do it too. But maybe my nightgown is too big? It’s a negligee just like Violet’s. The shoulder length might be the problem for this one...”

“Old Man, you gonna die if you don’t obsess over the stuff we wear? You ain’t. Give up.”

“No way. Days like this one don’t come by. All five of us are trapped in the company and we can’t get out. You’ve got no choice but stay here in my house, right? We’re having the best of parties, a pajama party. I want it to be a good one. But I can’t enjoy it when I’m worrying over Little Lux’s clothes.”

Benedict contemplated a reply to Hodgins’s words for a few seconds, but soon stopped. He was probably tired. He looked Violet’s way and asked, “Hey, you not hungry? I’m gonna take a look at the kitchen.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.” As Benedict stood up, Hodgins chased after him.

“Benedict’s gonna make something? Yay! You guys probably don’t know this, but he’s good at cooking.” Cattleya lined up behind them.

“I didn’t say I was gonna make anything, though... Well, if you’re hungry, I can do it.”

“I shall assist you.” Violet raised her arms, rolling up her sleeves. Her prosthetics made a creaking noise.

“V, you can cook?”

“To some extent. In the military, I used to make preparations for the cooking. Mrs. Evergarden... Lady Tiffany also trained me on it.

“M-Me too... I can peel the potatoes, and stuff.” Lux hastily went after everyone. In a trail, a big move to the kitchen began to take place.

“Lux. You don’t usually cook, do you? I can already tell by just that statement. I’ll teach you.”

“Most things get solved just by peeling the potatoes... Benedict, you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Am not, Potato Demigod.”

“Violet, Benedict insulted me!”

“Benedict.”

“Owowow! V—! Don’t poke my sides! A hit from those crazy-ass prosthetics of yours ain’t no cutesy way to poke anyone! It just hurts like it normally would!”

In the end, Hodgins was able to find a light feather-print sweater in his closet and gave it to Lux. As she put it on, with her short stature, its length became the same as that of a long cardigan, which Hodgins was awfully pleased with for how adorable it was.

   The madder-red sky was not visible at dusk, the outside morphing into evening with no changes in the rainy weather.

Benedict made a soup at random with the vegetables available in Hodgins’s kitchen, which had seasonings in abundance, while Violet and Cattleya supplied it with cookies that they had brought back as souvenirs from their ghostwriting business trip. Lux brought over small candy marbles that she kept stored in her desk at the company, and Benedict, instructed by Hodgins, reluctantly took an expensive bottle hidden on the liquor shelf of the latter’s room.

“Hey, let’s rummage through the desks of everyone in the company. There are probably gonna be other ingredients in them.”

“If it’s Mr. Anthony’s desk, I think there’s definitely something in it. Mr. Anthony always gives me sweets... We’re in a state of emergency so I’m sure he’ll forgive us for it.”

“There were sweets in the reception guys’ desks. Would they get mad if we took them?”

“Definitely seem like they would. But this sweet... is one of the tasty ones... I wanna eat it.”

Lux, who was still growing, and Benedict, who had missed lunch and did not have enough with just the vegetable soup, procured more food. The sweets that the hungry thieves sneaked from the company employees’ desks turned out as what could be considered a big catch, and so, the five people trapped inside during a day of usual rain commenced a night party.

The five of different ages, genders and positions were already at a state where they could be deemed as a single family through the many incidents they had overcome and the time they had spent together. They laughed a lot, talked a lot.

“You remember when Violet brought Lux over? She went to negotiate it directly with Old Man with so much might, like, ‘I have picked up a puppy. Please give me permission to raise it here. Now, hurry’. They were holding hands and she wouldn’t let go of Lux, explaining the situation all at length as if to say she wasn’t gonna move until he gave the permission. The way Old Man acted so suspicious back then was a real blast.”

“I remember~! He was like, ‘Eh, “demigod”? Eh, “abduction and confinement”? Have you told the military police about that?’... President was so troubled, walking in circles around the two. It was the funniest thing of that year.”

“Hum... I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, Little Lux. You’re our main player now, so you did what you could to get where you are. You really exerted yourself in this unfamiliar land. Work for us forever, ‘kay? Rather, for me. Little Violet does some unbelievable stuff sometimes, but she generally doesn’t do anything wrong, so back then, her first-time deed shook up even someone like me, with plenty of life experience. Saying no didn’t even cross my mind.”

“I knew that President Hodgins would give you a generous treatment. If I had not concluded so, I would not have done such a thing. Thank you very much for that time, President.”

“Little Violet... Little Violet’s all grown up too, huh; you’ve become a wonderful lady...”

“Well, she’s got you as her example of guardian figure, after all.”

“I was raised by both Benedict and President Hodgins. You are my examples.”

“Eh, so I’m Old Man’s son...? Gimme the whole company.”

“No way! Actually, you’re taking a part of the company in the future, so that much should be fine, right?”

“You were serious about that? If you split the company...”

“Yeah, I’ll be the vice-president. V, call me Vice-President Benedict.”

“Benedict will be... the vice-president?”

“Violet, you haven’t been to the company too often because of work, right? I’ll stay as President Hodgins’s secretary, but some of the employees will go to Benedict’s side. That’s gonna be pretty lonely... Still, the company will be built inside the country, so it’ll be close in terms of distance. But it won’t be the same building anymore.”

“Other people... will also be gone.”

“Did I tell you that my role’s gonna change too?”

“I have not heard about that.”

“I’ll be transferred to training the newcomers. Violet, you’ll stay as you are. Well, between you and me, if we were to debate on which one should be the instructor, it’d have to be me. I’m good at looking after others.”

“Cattleya will be... an instructor...”

“I’ll be here like always. The Doll department that Little Violet and the others are in will stay in the main office and you’re largely in charge of the numbers in our Doll department, so your role won’t change.”

“Sounds like I don’t make money when you put it like that.”

“No, it’s not like that... I’ve been keeping the right people in the right places since long ago, right? I asked you to do this because I thought you could be everyone’s big sis. Besides, wasn’t it you, Cattleya, who immediately replied that you’d to it when I said your pay would increase if you became an instructor?”

“Well, that’s because I don’t know how long I could keep on being a Doll. It’s a job you can do even when you get older, but walking up mountains has been hard lately. Probably because of my high heels.”

They truly laughed a lot and talked a lot.

In their feel-at-home looks, they played card games, discussed memories of their trips and laughed holding their stomachs at silly stories. The night went on and on and the heavy rain outside gradually subsided, but no one said, “Let’s go home, then”. Days like these were a rarity. They all knew this much.

“I’m having lots of fun today. It’d be great if it were always like this.” The words that Cattleya muttered with a big smile spoke for everyone’s feelings.

Whenever a fun feast reached its climax, the loneliness towards the fact that it was going to end would cross the corners of people’s heads. That applied not only to this day that God had granted them but also to matters in the long run.

Perhaps the company named CH Postal Company itself could also be considered a feast to the people gathered in it. “May this dream, this fun time go on forever,” they wished.

The dream had begun with Claudia Hodgins. He then picked up Cattleya Baudelaire, Benedict Blue and Violet Evergarden.

“Make sure to just lick it. So, how’s that?”

They had built the company office building in Leidenschaftlich and started it together. As the postal business was a privatized one and the competitors were many, nobody could predict at first for how long this company would continue to exist.

“This stings.”

A local customer then came, earning them a large-scale contract in the delivery business.

“Eh~, you okay, Violet? You’re better off as someone who can’t drink...”

Their Auto-Memories Doll activities began to stand out.

“But everyone is changing.”

“Doesn’t that have nothing to do with drinking alcohol? I drink ‘cause I like it. If you don’t, then stop.”

“That’s right, Violet.”

“No... Major has a taste for drinking during meals, so I had been thinking of learning to do it one day as well. You are all changing one after another whenever I blink. I have started eating with other people quite often at work as well. I, too, shall adapt...”

Along the way, a girl who would later become a brilliant secretary joined them.

“I see... Then I want to try drinking too. I’m a secretary, after all. I have to eat out with other people. What kind of taste is it, if you had to compare?”

Despite the major changes in the personal life of each, all of them had contributed to the development of the company, to the point that they spent every single day being busy.

“Close to that of a perfume. In that it is hard to swallow.”

There would surely be many, many more changes.

“Hey, I can’t approve that opinion. Big Sis here will introduce you to delicious drinks. Rather than being taught by a man, you should learn from me. Lux, you can’t yet.”

Surely, their fates would twist further.

“Eh~?!”

“Benedict, bring another one. And something to crack it open with.”

For people to gather up, an encounter had to have happened. That was what it meant.

“Aight, aight...” Benedict stood up from the sofa. He had been dragged into Cattleya’s scheme, in which she had planned the conspiracy of attempting to make Violet Evergarden consume alcohol, because he himself had complied with it.

“O-Owah. Old Man. You were here?”

“‘Were here,’ you ask... this is my house.”

As they came across each other in the kitchen, Benedict had let out a brash voice without thinking. The reason might be that he perhaps was seen grinning as he walked in. Despite his nihilistic attitude, he was happy to spend time with his friends.

“I-I know. I was thinking you were taking too long in the toilet...”

“Cigar.”

With the kitchen’s small window open, Hodgins was smoking a cigar. All of the women despised the smell, so he rarely ever let them see him smoking. Just when Benedict was thinking about how he had suddenly stood up and disappeared, there he was, smoking in secret.

——He only smokes when he can’t calm down, though.

There was no better day to relax with their companions, and yet.

“Hey, take a look outside. It’s so quiet after the storm... like the wind. Even though it was so loud before.” Perhaps due to him being a little drunk, Hodgins’s face was red.

“True... Hey, need more booze. Ain’t there anything easier to drink?”

“Eh, why? You can’t give it to Little Lux.”

“Cattleya wants to make V drink some. Well, ain’t it okay? I think it’s about time she learns the ropes. Dunno when we’ll get to drink with her again... and it’s better to have people you get along with teaching you this kinda thing, right?”

“Eeh... it’s still too soon. If you insist, isn’t it enough to drip a drop of rum into her tea?”

“Can you even call that a drink? Make it a degree higher.”

Hodgins gave a strained smile. “Hey, hey, her big brother figure shouldn’t be saying this...”

“I say it because I’m her big brother figure. I mean, we’re getting more rookies. She’s the highlight of our Doll department. Eating with people is part of having a big job. Before she gets involved with someone who wants to make her drink...”

“Does this have anything to do with me telling you to be the branch manager?”

Hearing a slightly icy voice coming from the president, Benedict blinked. “No... sorta.”

“She’s still a child, and I’ll definitely always be with her in those kinds of places, so it’s okay. It’s still early to teach her how to drink. Nope, nope.”

“A ‘child’, you say... well, she’s got a childish side, but she ain’t one anymore.”

“She is – you, Cattleya and Little Lux, too, are all kids to me. Because you’re quick to do this kind of thing if I don’t keep an eye on you... My, my,” Hodgins said, blowing out the tobacco smoke. Mismatched as it was for someone with such a mature appearance, Benedict could get a glimpse of childishness in him.

“You’ll keep trying to do that from now on too? That’s impossible; face the reality,” Benedict bit out incidentally.

Silence.

Benedict’s words were not wrong. The CH Postal Company was growing rapidly as a business. The fact that the postal company led by Salvatore Rinaudo had withdrawn from the postal industry in the previous year had a major influence in this. They now reigned at a pivotal position in Leidenschaftlich’s postal service. The CH Postal Company would soon account for nearly all of the commissions from the people living in Leidenschaftlich. Other than being busy with work affairs, there were even discussions about relocating the head office because of problems with waiting areas and break rooms due to securing new employees.

“Like, you and I are gonna get damn busy. The Auto-Memories Doll department is gonna be the main organ of the head office and my place will be ordinary mail, right? We’ll be teaching people how things go, and I’ll be doing deliveries too. You’re the one with the busiest role. Anything and everything’s gonna be relayed to you. Getting to be close to your employees like until now while doing all that is just...”

It was natural for a company that had become bigger to do a corporative split-off and for one of their employees to manage the branch office. Benedict was still young but had the power to bring people together. The task would not be an impossible one if they put a veteran of the head office in charge of taking over it. They could do this, Hodgins had decided, thus he came up with the proposal.

“The regular meetings and other stuff that I take part in happen in the head office... It’s not like we won’t get to see each other.”

“Everyone will have a different post and position. We won’t get to see each other. Same for you, Old Man.”

“If it’s work, I can adjust it. I’ll do my best to administrate everyone so that the employees can get a time every now and then to relax like this...”

“Old Man, even if you do your best, V’s dating that nasty-ass military officer, so won’t they get married someday? Dunno ‘bout it, but... that’s why it’s impossible to always watch over us in the first place...”

Silence.

“Hey, don’t clam up.”

What was being thrust at Hodgins now was something that he did not want to look straight at, despite thinking about and readying himself for it. That was what he was being told.

“Hodgins – hey, Old Man.”

It was something that Benedict Blue had the right to say, exactly because they had been doing everything together from the start.

“Hey, don’t take it in a weird way. I ain’t saying this to be malicious. You left the Auto-Memories Doll department in the head office ‘cause your wish to watch over V is a big deal, right? I get it. She’s special to you.”

“That’s not it; I—”

“But she won’t be a kid forever. She’s different from back when she started working, with you teaching her everything. She’s someone who’s gonna let go of your hand one day. She ain’t your real daughter or your girlfriend. Then, if you had to say what she is, at the end of the day, she’s your employee. You’ll part ways one day. If you don’t get ready for that now, will you manage to get over it if she marries into that bastard’s family and he makes her leave the company?”

“Will you manage to get over it?” The question ruminated in Hodgins’s heart.

Benedict had shot him where it hurt without mercy. He was a gun expert. His aim was precise and the bleeding made Hodgins want to hold his own chest down.

——Will I recover if I ever have to be separated from Violet Evergarden? Hodgins pondered earnestly over the question. ——I don’t know.

He truly did not know.

Bonds were things that could not easily break off once they had connected, yet reality, time and busyness unpityingly caused the existence of “friends” to grow far apart.

——To the point that I don’t know, I...

Surely, a day like this would not happen five years from now. Their place to return to amidst the rain would be somewhere else.

——It’s not just her, but also you and everyone else.

To begin with, they might not even be working in the company itself anymore until then. More of them would fall for someone, nurture their love and move their places to be in life to their “homes”.

Twenty, thirty years from now, it might be hard for them to even work. Or they would not be alive – there was also that possibility.

The one who was more aware of this than anybody else was Hodgins, the oldest of them all.

——I’m the one who’s farthest apart in age.

That was exactly why he did not know.

“I have no idea.”

He did not want to see it. Did not want to think about it.

“I have too many things that matter to me, so I can’t make a move anymore. Y’know, you... you might aught at this, but... rather than when you’re young, getting hurt becomes scarier when you grow older. You start losing the energy to do your best and heal. It’s tiring. Still...”

Hodgins had thought that the youth in front of him, who referred to him as “Old Man” on a daily basis, was probably going to laugh, yet Benedict was expressionless.

“Still...”

He did nothing but listen. His posture of properly listening at times like these somewhat...

——...looks like Little Violet.

“Still, I know I’m the one who has to get moving the most. I’m getting everyone involved in the things I wanna do. That’s why I do what I have to. I also counted on you, because I trust you. I left it in your care. But... that and my feelings for her and you guys...”

“I get it.”

“...are different things, right? Y’know, you’re... mean. I’m like a foster parent to you, and yet... Even if you understand my loneliness...”

While Hodgins spoke as if bursting out, Benedict put a hand to his mouth as though to stop him. “I get it.”

Time halted completely.

Was he supporting the flustered figure of the one who was like a parent to him?

“My bad.”

Before he had noticed, he was carrying a load of things he must protect. Was he doing this due to realizing that he had left Hodgins to chance, thinking, “That’s because it’s him”?

“My bad. That just now was on me.”

Silence.

“I didn’t have to pick today to say this. Isn’t that right?”

“You think I’m being lame right now, don’t you?”

“Nah, you ain’t all that cool in the first place.”

“That’s a lie; I’m a generally-acknowledged beautiful young man... no, beautiful middle-aged man.”

“You might not be cool, but well, that’s what’s good about you. Right?”

Silence.

“The cool thing about my Claudia Hodgins is his uncool side.”

Since Benedict was speaking as if to comfort a child, Hodgins told him to “shut up”, slightly annoyed, yet burst into laughter nevertheless.

   The rain caused all sorts of things to pour. The way that people were drowned by the drops trickling down from the sky inevitably made them think about something.

As dawn broke, Claudia Hodgins sat up, body heavy from not getting much sleep. When he peeked at his room’s bed, Violet and Cattleya were sleeping wrapped in the same blanket. On the sofa, Benedict was scattered about, snoring in a way that made him want to laugh.

Hodgins looked for where Lux Sibyl might be. He went down from the third to the second floor, and then from the second to the first floor. She was nowhere to be found.

While thinking it could not be possible, Hodgins opened the front door, and sure enough, he could see the figure of a girl walking down the street towards him.

The clothes she had put to dry yesterday were surely half-wet. What was it that she wanted to do outside so badly to the point of going this far? He understood when he saw what she had in her arms.

“Ah, President.”

Lux was holding a paper bag with a lot of bread in it. The amount was enough that the small girl’s face could not be seen.

“Little Lux... could it be you went to buy us breakfast?”

Thinking back, this young woman was the kind of person who was always quick to act when she was trying to do something for someone. That was all it took to be a considerate person, but without kindness in their heart, they would not turn out this way. The reason why Hodgins had nominated her his secretary was not just that she could do any sort of work.

“That’s so nice.”

“Yes, the bakery owner is very nice. I woke up a bit too early, and when I went on a walk to see how things were outside, the bakery was just about to open and they were getting ready... I went to take a look ‘cause it seemed so delicious and they told me to come in.”

“Ah, hm...”

“I was so touched when they said they baked bread for people who were hungry early in the morning, so I told them many thanks for selling them and bought lots of it. It’s the bakery from that street around the corner.”

“As expected of my secretary. Did you properly get the receipt?”

At those words, Lux showed him a smile that resembled a blooming flower. “Huhu, of course.”

For Hodgins, who had spent the night deep in thought about all sorts of things, that smile was a soothing one. It was like the water of a lake for someone who was feeling thirsty.

Hodgins wordlessly took the bag from Lux. “Little Lux, I’m seriously glad you came to us.”

“Only in this kind of situation, right?”

“All the time. Always. Little Lux, you’re still young, will probably keep working with us... and you’re such a good secretary... I’m the happiest CEO in Leidenschaftlich.”

“Are you going to hire me for life?”

“Eh?”

“Is that a no?”

“No, I could. But that’d mean working with me for life, y’know?”

“Is that bad? I have nowhere else to go.”

When asked with such an innocent look, Hodgins faltered.

“I won’t say the stuff Benedict does, like wanting the company for me.”

“Well, I might... end up giving it to you if you say that, so don’t ever. Hahah... Of course, keep working for us forever and always at my place. Huh, this is kinda like a marriage vow... Wanna take this opportunity and marry me in the future? Just kidding...” Upon thinking that the jest that came out incidentally was an unsavory one right after saying it, Hodgins looked at Lux’s reaction, only to find her staring back at him blankly. He had made himself into a caricature of an old man bothering a girl. “No, it was a prank! But hey. Little Lux, you might be the only one who can go along with me, so having this kind of small talk is... I-I’m not looking at you with dirty eyes, really! We’re too far apart in age, after all! We’re c-close enough that we can crack this kind of joke to each other, right?”

Lux pretended to think for just a few seconds. “Huhu, I can tell. That it’s a joke, at least. But not happening. We’re not getting married.”

And then, she flat-out rejected him.

“Ah, yes.” Although Hodgins would have been at loss if she had accepted it, his shoulders dropped somewhat.

“But President, I’m prepared to nurse you if you ever become unable to work.”

“Don’t... suddenly thrust such a cruel reality at me.”

“Eh, is it? From my point of view... this is quite a deep form of love. President, you’re the first decent adult who accepted me. I’ll devote my whole life to you.”

“Little Lux, you sure like me a lot. Gonna marry me after all?”

This time, Lux actually grinned and replied, “I’ll take that one home and consider it.”

“Amazing; that answer’s like the business talk at the company.”

“Because you’re teasing me... even though you’re well-aware that I don’t even know love yet.”

“Don’t know love yet”. The destructive power of those words caused Hodgins to regret his lighthearted proposal a little.

“Then, I’ll ask again in about five years. I should be at a nice middle age by then.”

“You say that, President, but you’re going on a trip with some hottie next week. I know it.”

The duo, who somehow seemed like they would or other be hanging together for a long time, returned to the office with bouncing chatter.

   In order to make breakfast for everyone together, Hodgins and Lux stood in the kitchen by themselves.

Besides the already-baked bread, they would need drinks and vegetables. Those were merely simple preliminary preparations, but Hodgins felt that just this was somehow enjoyable, unlike doing the work on his own.

“President, you have yours with one sugar cube and a slice of lemon, right?”

“And for Little Lux, it’s two sugar cubes with milk, yeah? I know it.”

While arranging the bread on a plate, they also poured water over the tealeaves and left them to steam. Perhaps due to the scenery that could be seen from the kitchen’s small window being a blue sky with not a single cloud in it, it was awfully dazzling.

“Good morning.”

The next person who appeared amidst the morning sunlight was Violet. Her soft golden hair was just a bit disheveled. Hodgins’s hand naturally reached out to it.

“Morning... You’ve got a bedhead, Little Violet.”

“Excuse me...” Violet looked back at Hodgins as he caressed her head, seeming a little embarrassed. Her eyes were just slightly red. She might have not been able to sleep very well.

“Morning, Violet. Are Cattleya and Benedict also up?”

“Benedict was awake until a while ago, but when I got up from the bed, he began sleeping again by Cattleya’s side.”

“Morally speaking, it’s that kinda thing. I’ll go give him a warning.”

Hodgins laughed a little, seeing Lux off as she walked away while rotating her tiny shoulders. He then turned his gaze back to Violet. Her bedhead, which he had supposedly fixed with the caressing, had returned. For some reason, both of them being alone like this in a kitchen bathed in morning sunlight struck him as extremely peculiar.

Just the two of them, having such a tender time. How many more opportunities would they have for that?

They were already at it. He should talk about something. That was what Hodgins thought, but the words did not come out of him. Not because he had no topic to discuss. He could come up with as many things to talk about as he wanted, such wanting flowers to decorate the table or that they would surely have many customers today who were unable to come yesterday.

But he did not want to spoil this morning. He felt that it might crumble if he spoke even one sentence.

Violet was there. She had her blue eyes directed his way, looking at him. It was no longer awkward for the two of them to stay silent. That was their relationship.

Perhaps still sleepy, she was in a haze. He wanted to watch her standing amidst this gentle time for a little longer.

As she would usually always seem wide-awake, Hodgins believed that she was laidback to this extent due to being in the presence of people with whom she could be at ease from the bottom of her heart. That he had played a part in this feeling of security of hers.

——Will you forget one day?

One day, the position that Claudia Hodgins occupied in the life of Violet Evergarden would become smaller.

——She only gets bigger on my end, though.

Going to the hospital numerous times. Pushing her wheelchair. Giving her a notebook and teaching her how to write.

——I for sure can’t forget. These moments, days, everything like this with you.

The fact that he had not stopped her from fighting in the war. That he had thought they could use her.

——I can’t forget.

Delivering to Violet an outfit that could hide her prosthetic arms, yet that would also make her look her most beautiful.

——I’m sure I won’t forget about this morning either.

About that quiet morning, which was much like the one from before everyone was caught in the great storm and barged in.

Hodgins touched Violet’s hair again. Although she had told Benedict not to touch it, with Hodgins, she all but slightly left a strand in his hand’s care and let him take it, almost like how a cat would do.

——Aah, I want to hug you.

He was not in love with her. That would never be the case.

However, if she were his real daughter, on days like these, mornings like these, he would have easily said, “Good morning, precious” and embraced her.

“I had a dream, President Hodgins,” Violet whispered out of the blue with a freshly awake, faintly hoarse voice.

“Dream...?”

The stunning young woman, who was no longer a girl, talked about her dream like a child, “Yes; in the dream... you owned a clothing store.”

“Huhu, that so?”

“I cannot make clothes. You told me that you did not need me, President Hodgins, if I could not make clothes...”

“That’s horrible of me, huh.”

“Even when I said I could polish the shoes, clean up or do anything, you did not listen...”

Unlike the real one, the dream version of Hodgins had apparently chosen to part ways with Violet.

“Little Violet, what did you do about that?”

“I asked countless times. However, you rejected it countless times. I thought about standing in front of the shop until you allowed me in, but it started raining like yesterday.”

“Hm. And then?”

“Major Gilbert came to pick me up and told me to come home with him, but...”

“Hm.”

“I waited for President to come out of the store even as the lights went out.”

“Hm.”

“Despite waiting and waiting, President Hodgins did not come out, and at some point, a passerby told me, ‘This shop has moved’.”

“Even though it was open until just a moment ago?”

“It was a dream, after all... And then – and then, I asked where it was and went after it. Benedict and Cattleya also appeared in-between, but they seemed to have other things to do, saying they would come after me later... As for Lux, she was the only one who had been hired by you from the very beginning, so she also asked you to hire me again, but in the end, you said no could do.”

“Hm...” Suddenly, Hodgins felt so pained about everything that it was hard to breathe. “And then, Little Violet, what did you do...?” His hand reached out to Violet.

“I kept looking at the interior of the store beyond the shop window from outside.”

Not towards her head, but towards her eyes, where her golden lashes fluttered like the wings of a fairy.

“Inside it, many people – people that I know and do not know – came and left... showing how lively the shop was.”

A sea had silently formed in them, which dissolved and disappeared once Hodgins’s index finger touched it.

“Major came to pick me up for the nth time and said you had told him that my standing there was causing him problems. But, for whatever reason, I at the very least knew that if I stepped away from there even for a moment, you would never let me in... therefore, I could not comply. But I did not want to trouble you, President, so I was unable to make a decision... I attempted to ask Major for instructions, but he was also gone before I realized.”

The sea – the teardrop – turned into a pearl and slipped down her cheek.

“I... I... ended up crying.” Violet stared at the sky, the look in her eyes seeming almost as if the scene from her dream was there at this very moment. “To think I would cry like that...”

“Hm.”

“That was why President Hodgins would not hire me, I thought... And also why Major had grown tired and left.”

“Hm.”

“Then, without my notice, you came outside. You looked the same as that post-war day when you went to visit me at the hospital. You were very surprised with my appearance, as I was soaked with mud and rain. And so, you said this: ‘Guess we’ll start with how to hold a needle’. You told me that you had not invited me for the new job because it would surely be difficult with these hands of mine, so I was extremely relieved... Then, then...” Violet’s words cut off at once.

Unable to hold himself back, Hodgins pulled her into an embrace as if shoving her little head into his chest.

While being embraced, Violet said with eyes that looked as though she was still dreaming, “...with some effort, I could still be helpful. I was able to confirm this, after all.”

Hearing her let out a relieved sigh in his arms, Hodgins forgot about both his and Violet’s positions, clasping her to his chest very, very firmly. “You sure are helpful... Was there anything about me that made you feel uncertain?” Upon realizing that his voice sounded tearful, Hodgins allowed the tears to overflow at the truth.

——Aah, I’m such an idiot. Got caught up in it and ended up crying too.

As the girl whom he thought of as his own daughter, despite her being an actual adult, had shed tears, he found himself crying along with her. Almost like a child. Even though he was supposed to conduct himself as an elder in this situation.

“I do not know.”

“But, has anything like that ever happened until now...? You had that dream because you were uneasy.”

“‘Uneasy’... That might have been the case. Yesterday night, I came to know that many things were progressing while I was away, so I have the feeling that I was quite agitated.”

“Sorry; we were doing things on our own accord. Even though we’ve been together since the founding.”

“No, I am often absent, and it is only natural for some things to be decided in the meantime. I am an employee. I feel that your judgement is correct. Employees must correspond to the changes of a company. My surroundings are about to change significantly. I am grateful to you, President, for letting me be here like always. However...”

“‘However’...?”

“However, I do not know if I can cope with it. With the matters regarding Major, the ones regarding the company... with the fact that Benedict will be going to a different office building. When I think about these things...”

“It’s okay.”

“When I think about them, I realize that the number of things I should prioritize has increased too much.”

“Little Violet.”

“The order of priorities...”

“It’s all right.”

“I have to deal with situations of every kind as I live, and yet...”

——Surely, Violet Evergarden wouldn’t be alive if she didn’t do that.

Always, at all times.

She had been living through corresponding to her surroundings despite being at loss regarding its circumstances, putting everything she could do to use while looking for a place to belong and an adult who would take care of her. She was not allowed to waver. For beasts, hesitation was death.

Violet did not know unconditional love. She now had at last earned herself this warm place through her efforts, but it was about to suffer a rapid change with the course of time.

After running, running and running, Violet – previously one such beast – was watching the nest she had finally found crumble down. Even when people knew they had to prepare to start running again, there would come a time when they would be short of breath and unable to move.

Violet had gone from wild animal to person.

Her human parts and animal parts co-existed, occasionally revealing themselves. When she was the animal, she simply did not mind how much a place changed as long as she could live in it. However, it was difficult to live while holding something better, more important.

Now that she had become a person through the increasing of her emotions...

“I shall fight. I can always be of use. President Hodgins, please forget this aspect of me that I just showed you.”

...she had turned into just a girl who was a little bit scared of the future.

“Please... forget about it.”

Who had made her this way? Gilbert was likely the first, but the ones who had done the finishing touches were definitely all the people in this place.

“No way, I’m not forgetting.”

At Hodgins’s words, Violet lowered her eyebrows, looking troubled.

“Don’t make a face like that; I’m not teasing. I meant to say that you don’t need to worry about it. You indeed might’ve gotten weak. But is that a bad thing? You had nothing when you met me for the first time. Not even your brooch, right...? But now you have lots of things. You went on a journey for a long time and got more stuff to shoulder while you were at it, so it’s no wonder that you’d end up in a dilemma.” Albeit knowing that Cattleya, Benedict and Lux were looking at them in shock from the shadows at the doorway, Hodgins went on, “You know... life is a journey. Little Violet, you’ll go on this journey, won’t you?”

He had already forgotten about his anxiety. The feeling of frustration at such things and the overwhelming wish to cling to someone were now gone.

“You started your journey with a little less luggage than other people, so you’re staring at your bag now that it’s gotten a bit heavy, wondering what happened to it. You don’t know what to throw away anymore.”

He was able to think, from the depths of his heart, that he had returned to his usual self. While embracing her, who was indeed still young and confused in the middle of her journey, he was finally able to think so.

“You need clothes and money, of course, and good shoes are vital. Right, and an umbrella too. When you look into your bag and realize that you actually have nothing that you can get rid of, it’s indeed a problem. Even though it’s a hassle because it’s so heavy. What do you think you should do?”

He could still be useful.

“Train... my physical strength... No, calibrate my prosthetics...”

He was still needed.

“You’re such a fool... Either leave it in someone’s care and continue the journey or have someone take half of it.”

Even if it were only for a short while.

“Gilbert will probably take half of the luggage. I can take care of the rest that you can’t carry over here. I’ll be in Leidenschaftlich forever, after all. Little Violet, no matter where you go, I’ll stay here and wait for you to come back, and no matter when you come over, I’ll welcome you. I’ll take care of the contents of your bag with pleasure.”

——Even if you only remember me a few times a year someday...

“Listen up: whenever you’re troubled, remember that I’m here. And then you’ll be able to go on a journey again anytime.”

——...I’ll ready myself to welcome you at any time of the year.

“Am I really supposed to leave my luggage here?”

——I’m the kind of man who can do that, and you need it for sure.

“Hm-hm, that’s not it. Y’see, this is about memories. All you have to do is to know. That I’m here. This is the way to make your luggage lighter. Whenever you’re having problems, bam, remember me. If you do that, the worries you have now will definitely decrease a little. Y’know, at the end of the day... people’s place to come home to aren’t places, they’re ‘somebody’. You should know that much. You’d have gone to any battlefield if Gilbert was there, right? Someday, yes, you might quit being an Auto-Memories Doll. You might not come back to Leidenschaftlich.”

——It’ll be great if this “someday” never comes, though.

“But your current memories are with me. I’ll be a representation of them. So that you, my dear... will be able to open your memories anytime. When this moment right now becomes nostalgic to you, come see me. I’ll always be here. Waiting for you. You’re feeling ‘lonely’ right now. But... Little Violet. You have me. You’re not alone.”

——I want you to remember.

“I do not understand very well... However...”

——I’m always protecting you.

“...you have always guided me.”

——Waiting for your return.

“I never doubt your word.”

——I’ll be waiting here.

“But, President Hodgins, I have only one wish.”

——I want you to show up when your journey ends.

Deciding to deal with the sobbing coming from behind the door later, Hodgins opted for staying like this for just a bit longer. Her lover might get angry if he saw it, but he had the right to do it, at least to some extent. After all, she was Claudia Hodgins’s dear employee.

Hodgins asked with a particularly gentle tone, “What would it be, Little Violet?”

Violet blinked and looked up at Hodgins. The last drop spilled from her eyes.

“If, only if... there comes a time when you will quit the postal company and start doing something else...”

“Hm.”

“...please call me. No matter where you are, I will rush to you.”

“Hm.”

“I will definitely be of help... Even if not, should your luggage become too much, please call me when you need someone to carry it for you. I shall hasten to visit you.”

“For real?”

“Yes. I, too, will carry President’s luggage. You should know it. I am strong.”

“Huhu, yep, definitely. One day, you’ll understand what I mean by ‘luggage’. Hey...”

No one would imagine that a single drop could be the start of something so big. However, it would earn itself great meaning after a while passed. Should it continue pouring, it could also summon boundless blessings and curses.

   “Hiya, I’m Hodgins. What’s your name?”

Silence.

“This kid’s such a taciturn.”

“She... doesn’t have a name yet. She’s an orphan with no education. Can’t talk either.”

“That’s so terrible of you. She’s such a beauty. Just give a name worthy of her.”

   “Little Violet, thanks for meeting me.”

Love was almost like rain.

[lululawrence]

lululawrence’s February 2021 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost

February was a great month of reading for me and I am so excited to talk about the fics I was able to read. I enjoyed many fics from the @1d5xfest as well as continued reading Big Bang fics from last year’s fest, and all were so amazing as well as a wide variety of content. If you’re interested in actually hearing me talk about the fics listed below, you can listen to this month’s podcast here.

As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

No Going Back by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (56k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Alternate Universe, One Night Stand to Friends to Lovers, kinda, lollllll, Travel Fic, Remote Location, aka “the arse end of the Earth” lmao, listen this fic was so cool to read about, and I loved the blog Harry started, there were so many cool things to be found in this fic)

There's Fur Everywhere by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (4k, G, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Strangers to Lovers, Five Times Harry found a naked Louis in his car and the back seat was covered in fur, and One Time it didn’t end there, basically lmaoooo gosh I love this fic)

Changing Weather (For Worse or For Better) by @haztobegood / haztobegood (3k, M, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Established Relationship, Five Times it’s raining and one time it stops, This fic was so soft and all encompassing, I loved how it gave a full view of their relationship even with the snippets being so short)

The Future Is Now by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (16k, E, Harry/Louis, Five Times fic, Friends to Lovers, and they were roommates, Five Times Louis tries to use a fortune teller to find love and the one time he realized he’s already found it, This fic was so lovely and so much fun, because somehow no one got hurt even with everything going on, oh it’s wonderful)

There's No Mate Better Than Womb-Mates by @jaerie / jaerie (13k, E, Harry/Louis, Marcel/Louis, Harry/Marcel, Harry/Marcel/Louis, A/B/O, alpha Marcel, alpha Harry, omega Louis, pining, first time, bad sex education coming back to bite all of them in the ass, or does it, lollll, please note all of the tags on this fic as it will not be to everyone’s tastes)

It's All Mixed Up! by @mayflowersinapril / iamnotgroot (3k, G, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Established Relationship, Alternate POV, misunderstandings, friendship, THE BEST CAT EVER, okay seriously this fic was so funny omg, cause you knew what was happening but not entirely, and it was so fun to see everyone’s reactions in the end lololol)

Frankly My Dear, I Don't Give a Damn by @mizzhydes / MsHydeStylinson (45k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, One Night Stand turned more, Famous/Non-Famous, Punk Louis, Tattoo Artist Louis, Musician Harry, Holiday Fling, I loved this fic so much, from the way Harry learned of the fling to how Louis “stalked” him, omgosh there was just so much humor and emotions and banter and it was just wonderful, I loved it)

I'm a banquet for you by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 (8k, T, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Food Quirk, Canon Compliant, Getting Together and Established Relationship both, Alternating POV, This fic is so interesting, Because I wasn’t sure if it would be like a feeding kink or growing kink kind of thing, and it’s not, It was just the most interesting and then it hits you HARD with feels, it was so good)

There's a Piece of You in How I Dress by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers (5k, G, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Clueless boys, Wearing each other’s clothes, Five Times Louis wears Harry’s clothes, One time Harry wears Louis’, This one was so incredibly cute, even if Harry was just so clueless lol, maybe especially because of that)

Don’t Get Me Wrong by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (5k, G, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Enemies to Lovers, Kind of, Misunderstandings, High School Reunion, Four Times Harry thinks Louis is bullying him through his art, And one time he learns he was wrong, This fic was so funny omg, the descriptions of the art, I about died)

Gucci Down To My Drawers by @beanno28 / Beanno28 (2k, E, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Model Harry, Photographer Louis, Misunderstandings, Five Times Louis looks to be in a compromising position, And one time he actually is, mwahahaha, this fic was such fun to read, because the scenes were so short but so perfectly written, you could just imagine, lololol)

Five Times Liam Wanted a Pet. One Time Zayn Says Yes by Megz1985 (4k, G, Zayn/Liam, 5 Times fic, Established Relationship, The title says it all really, it’s so fun to see all the ways and animals Liam uses in an attempt to get Zayn to agree, It’s just so sweet I love it)

love put us two together (but we don't know how to stay) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same (11k, T, Harry/Louis, 5 Times fic, Friends to Lovers, Dreams, THE ZIAM CONTENT OMGGGG, And the dreams???, Five times Louis dreams about getting together with Harry, and One Time they actually get together, Listennnnnn, The dreams were like full on AUs, and I fucking loved them they were so incredible, I love love loved this fic)

[robthomissed]

Life With Sammy

enjoy these little slices of life that I wrote based on a song that really doesn't mean anything but gave me the idea

inspired by Sentimental by WMD

Before Sammy

Life was…..fine. You were living and things weren’t bad but things just felt a little hollow. Every rainstorm or trip to the art museum or meal cooked for one was nice in a lot of ways but you couldn’t help but look around sometimes and feel like it would be nice to have someone there to share it with. Over time the light and color started to drain and each day was just more of the same. The small voice inside you saying it just wasn’t going to happen, time to make peace with being alone.

But then there is Sammy. He barrels into your life all big blue eyes, loud laughs, and warm hugs. You soon realize life with Sammy means more…

Laughter

He was laughing at you. This boy had the nerve to laugh at you even after you told him you had never learned how to skate. Sammy was managing to keep his amusement to soft chuckles as you wobbled along the wall of the Blues practice rink during a pre-season family skate.

“Come on babe, just slow down and watch me.” Sammy said as he helped you off the ice after your fourth fall in the last ten minutes. You weren’t one to stay patient while learning a new skill because your perfectionistic streak took over which was causing your brain to move faster than your feet could learn.

You let out a heavy sigh and took his hands as he proceeded to skate backward with infuriating ease. You focused your attention on his skates to try and pick up on what he was doing. Just as you thought you were getting the hang of it, Sammy's right skate caught a gash in the ice and he flailed backward dragging you down with him. There was a short moment of panic on your part when Sammy stayed quiet and still on the ice after you landed on top of him with his head tucked into your neck. Then after a few excruciating seconds, you felt him start to chuckle and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You both just laid there laughing to yourselves for a minute before he said “Okay, not that I don't love having you on top of me but let’s save it for when we get home.”

This sent you into another fit of blushing and giggling which you tried to hide by tucking your face back into Sammy’s shoulder. When you did finally manage to get yourself up off the ice Sammy still looked overly proud of himself that he had made you blush that hard.

Rain

You were sitting in Sammy’s car one night in the rain and just talking about life. Nothing and everything. Solving the world's problems and ranking the best place to get frozen custard in town. The rain is hitting the car just hard enough that it blocks out any noise from the outside world and creates a little bubble in time and space. It is only you two and the rest of the world is far away. The light from the streetlights coming through the rain-covered windows is lighting up his face in the most gorgeous way. The raindrops are casting shadows that cascade down the side of his face and make the shine of his eyes that much brighter.

Beauty

Sammy is beautiful in the small moments…

The way the summer sun brings out the auburn in his hair

The way his hand looked holding a wine glass

The furrow of his brows when he really focused on something

The way he always opened the door for you

The hugs after a long day

The way his voice sounds talking to your cat when he doesn’t think you are in the room

The crooked smile he gives you in the morning

The way he blushes whenever you tell him how breathtaking he is

Sammy is beautiful in so many ways and you hope one day he’ll actually believe you when you tell him

Relief

You aren’t stupid. You know the risks of playing professional hockey. You had seen numerous guys go down with various injuries in your years as a hockey fan. But having that knowledge in your head couldn’t prepare you for seeing Sammy crumpled in the corner after a crushing hit from you don’t even know who. The play continues up the ice but you can’t make yourself care as you watch Sammy lay still. Why haven’t they blown the whistle…. don't they see him? Finally, Torey gains control of the puck and the refs blow play dead as Ray trots out onto the ice. Robby quickly skates over to help him get to Sammy as fast as possible. The arena has gone so quiet you are sure the people around you can hear your heart pounding. Sammy begins to stir just as Ray and Robby reach him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Okay. He’s moving. That’s good. Vince and Rouzy deliver a couple more trainers from the bench and then join Robby who is hovering just far enough to be out of the way but close enough to feel involved.

After a long few minutes, Sammy gets to his feet mostly on his own, and after a second of leaning on Vince and one of the trainers he skates off by himself. You stay in your seat for a few minutes unsure of what to do until Sammy texts you telling you they are sending him home but they want you to drive. You are greeted by Sammy’s widest smile as soon as you enter the training room. It makes you feel better that he isn’t flat on his back and seems to be mostly normal.

He gingerly gets himself off the training table and gives you a hug.

“You okay?” you ask into his shoulder

“Yeah babe, I’ll be okay. Just shaken up a bit so they don’t want me driving home” he says after placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Okay good because I want you to stick around for a while,” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t worry you are going to be stuck with me for a long time” Sammy punctuates his teasing with a poke to your ribs which gets a giggle out of you.

“I think that is a burden I am willing to bear.” you tease back and break into giggles when he sticks his tongue out at you.

“Alright goofball let’s go home and get you off your feet”

Quiet

Sammy has a bit of a reputation for being loud. And he is when he is out with friends or when he gets excited about something but he also has a quiet side. Your favorite times with Sammy were when he was just walking around the apartment in his comfy clothes, a glass of wine in hand trying to decide what movie to watch. It was just so quietly domestic and made your heart do all kinds of fluttery things.

One night he catches you just staring at him while he is puttering around the kitchen making himself a late-night snack. When he notices he just stops what he is doing and asks “What?”

“Oh nothing.” you say quickly looking away trying to hide your blush from being caught.

“No no, tell me.” Sammy says as he circles around the kitchen island to stand in front of you and lean on the counter to block any potential escape.

“It’s- it’s just… I don’t know. I’m just really happy I get to see you like this.” you say blushing and barely making eye contact. Feelings are hard okay.

“ Like what?” Sammy says with just an adorably confused look that twists your gut a little bit more.

You sigh a bit and take a moment to find the right words. “Just this quiet side of you. I love your big and bubbly side but it is nice to know you are comfortable around me like this.”

Sammy looks at you still kinda confused, not saying anything and you begin to panic. “You know what, never mind just ignore me. Just go about your business”

After a few moments of silence, you suddenly find yourself pressed into Sammy’s chest as he tries to almost climb into your lap which is difficult since you were already perched rather precariously on the kitchen counter. You really can’t do anything besides hug him back and chuckle a bit.

When Sammy pulls back he just takes your face in his hands and kisses you on the forehead. “I love you babe. Of course I’m comfortable around you. So stare at me as much as you like.” He gives you a cheeky wink and turns his attention back to his snack.

Pleasure

All the years around various trainers and medical staff must have been what gifted Sammy with the unique ability to consistently find the knot in your shoulder with devastating speed and accuracy. The first time you had asked him to give you a quick shoulder rub after a long day you were not prepared for the targeted attack of his thumbs on your shoulder blades. He actually got a little scared when you let out a little noise of pain after he found a particularly sore spot one night.

“Oh no, did I hurt you!? My mom says I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” You didn’t even have to look back to imagine the way his eyebrows were knitted together with concern.

“No babe it’s fine. It’s that ‘hurts so good’ kinda thing. Keep going” You reassure him while rolling your shoulders to encourage him to continue.

Sammy seemed less than convinced but resumed his task nonetheless. He seemed to be holding back a bit though until he found a particularly tough knot and really went to work on it. You couldn’t hold in the winces and sighs as you felt the tension melt out of your body. It was your turn to be confused when you heard Sammy start quietly laughing behind you.

“Oh what now you are taking pleasure in my pain?” you asked with more than a little sarcasm.

“No, it’s just that I have only heard you make those noises under….different circumstances.” Sammy said with a smirk clearly heard in his voice.

You just rolled your eyes and turned to stick your tongue out at him because you couldn’t really come up with any clever retort. Sammy just continued to look very proud of himself when you announced you were going to make popcorn and he better have a movie picked out by the time you got back.

Struggles

You would be lying if you said that Sammy being out of town so much for a large part of the year wasn’t a strain on the relationship. You were the kind of person who really valued routine and knowing that your partner would be there when you got home most nights. You knew that that wasn’t going to be possible with Sammy and it had actually been the reason you had turned him down the first time he asked you out but thankfully he had persisted and you had decided he was worth it in the end. There were still hard days though because you would come home wanting to cook dinner together and cuddle on the couch but would be greeted by only your cat who was a great cuddle buddy but no replacement for Sammy. On those nights you would call Sammy just to hear his voice and see his smiling face. You were also usually treated to a few guest appearances by Vince and Rouzy who seemed to be ever-present around Sammy on road trips.

So while you still have bad days and crave the stability of a partner with normal working hours you know you wouldn’t trade Sammy for the world when he stumbled in the door dead on his feet but still trying to tell you every stupid thing Wally did and handing you some random airport trinket from whatever city the team had most recently visited.

Promise

Since Sammy had come into your life things had just felt better. You looked forward to getting up every day and seeing what was in store because you had someone to share it with. Sammy being in your life made you want to strive for more. He pushed you to be your best just like you did for him. You both made the other want to keep going to see where life would take you next. You never knew what was around the bend but you did know that you didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

Life with Sammy means more of everything...

[aidanchaser]

Waterloo Station

Several folks said, “I would love to see more of Regulus and Sirius shenanigans!” after Chapter 18. Well, lo and behold, I actually have a deleted bit of Chapter 18 showcasing just that. The second draft was from Sirius’ perspective, but since Sirius lent his voice to In Memoriam, and we’re about to hit a short run of non-Harry chapters, I brought the chapter back to Harry in the third draft. (the first draft was an entirely different Harry chapter about breaking James out of prison, but that got pushed back in favor of some character development; we’ll get back to it, I promise.)

So here’s a short bit, taken out of my scraps. It’s headed with “MY DARLING” because it is one of several darlings I have killed while writing Deathly Hallows, but it’s the only one to earn the all-caps title. Thanks to the magic of fanfic, I can still share this darling with you. (the alternate title for this chapter should be: Sirius Accidentally Outs Himself as a Furry)

Padfoot hated the city. It was loud and there were so many people, each with their own scents and emotions. He supposed he should count himself lucky Harry had bled so much, or the trail would have been harder to follow.

He recognized the wizards on the platform easily. Their attire of slacks combined with hoodies or rain slickers paired with thick rubber work boots marked them easily as incompetently dressed Ministry employees. Sirius supposed they were keeping an eye open for someone stupid enough to come to the platform in search of Harry, someone just like him.

The platform had been scrubbed clean, but Padfoot could still detect Harry’s scent through the bleach. He didn’t board the train that pulled into the station, not yet. He waited, sniffing the entrance of the car carefully. He didn’t smell Harry or bleach. So he sat back and waited. A few Muggles scratched his ears as they passed or before boarding the train. Sirius let them without protest. 

He had learned that Muggles, by and large, enjoyed dogs as long as those dogs were gentle, still, and quiet. And if he was anything else — too loud, too quick, or too threatening — they were eager to chase him out or worse, catch him. It was a lesson he had learned early in his life, long before he had become Padfoot; it was just an easier lesson to follow when he was Padfoot. Something about a thick coat of fur, the eyes and ears of a predator, and four paws to run with made him far more comfortable and settled in his own skin than being a young boy in the middle of a war ever had. 

Another train pulled in, and this one, too, didn’t smell of Harry, but the third one did. He followed the Muggles into the carriage, and noticed a small black shadow slip in after him. It hid under the seat, and Sirius pointedly ignored it. He took a post at the door and waited, ready to check each stop this train made until he found Harry.

Regulus had tried desperately to talk him out of this, but Sirius had ignored him. Between him, Lily, and Remus, Sirius was the only one who could track down Harry, and if he didn’t, Lily and Remus would. Lily was far more likely to be recognized on the platform than Padfoot was, making Sirius not only the safest choice, but the most efficient choice, given Padfoot’s hunting instincts.

The first stop didn’t have even a whiff of Harry, but the second one did, though it was no longer paired with bleach. Sirius could only surmise that Harry had healed any open wounds before exiting the train and he felt both relieved and proud. 

That relief vanished almost as soon as he stepped off of the train. This station was enormous. It wasn’t just another Underground station; it was the biggest train station in London. Crowds hurried past, chasing after trains. Others clustered around kiosks and maps. Sirius’ heart sank. Harry could have boarded a train to practically anywhere from here, even Paris. 

The small black shadow slunk out of the carriage behind him and slipped into a tiny space beneath a nearby bin. Padfoot put his wet nose to the ground and followed Harry’s faint scent to a ticket station. From there it was difficult to determine where to go next. He thought he had a faint trail of Harry’s blood but it was unusual, mixed with something else.

“Pardon me, sir,” a nearby Muggle said, “but you need to have your dog on a lead at all times —”

“Oh,” a man looked down at Padfoot. “He’s not my dog.”

Sirius decided to follow the scent of Harry’s blood. It led him out of the station and away from the Underground service workers. The last thing he needed was for a well-meaning Muggle to try to help him find his owner. The few times it had happened in the past, he had always had James to bail it out.

Sirius shook off the stab of grief that came with the thought. It was always easier to shake off grief as Padfoot, as if the same abilities that heightened his physical senses dulled the sharper edges of his hurt. Besides, he reminded himself, there was nothing he could do for James right now, not until they were able to find whatever Death Eater prison he was being held in — and they had to believe he was being held. What Sirius could do was find Harry.

Though it had been less than twenty-four hours since Harry had passed through here, London had a way of making people invisible, of burying passersby in the scent of automobile smog and endless eateries. Sirius had to work hard to discern the scent of Harry’s blood through it all, but he managed to follow the trail south for less than a mile until it disappeared into a tall, brown-brick residential building.

Padfoot sat down on the pavement and evaluated his options. It would not be hard to sniff out Harry, if he truly was in this building, but a large dog was likely to be chased out of a private building. As Sirius, it wouldn’t be hard to charm his way into the building, but it might be harder to find Harry.

Padfoot barked softly at the bushes. The black cat that had been tailing him crawled out. He knew Regulus had no interest in helping him, and had only come along as emergency backup in case of a duel, but Padfoot gestured his head towards the building anyway.

The small, black cat stared at Padfoot, then back up at the building. Reluctantly, he slipped up the stairs and into the building on the heels of an unsuspecting resident.

Padfoot sniffed the stone retaining wall. Plenty of people had passed through here, but he didn’t smell Harry, not exactly. He definitely smelled the blood trail he had been following, but that wasn’t the same thing as Harry’s scent. He wondered if it was Greyback who had come through here, but Sirius was fairly certain that he would recognize Greyback’s scent if he came across it.

He wondered, briefly, if Regulus had been right when he had said that Sirius was better off staying with Remus and Lily, rather than hunting down Harry. The full moon was just two days away, and he knew Remus was nervous. Brewing the Wolfsbane Potion had been impossible this week. They had been moving too frequently to get together the ingredients, and they still hadn’t figured out where Remus was going to transform. Lily would need to be somewhere safe but on hand in case of emergency, and they couldn’t be anywhere too open that might put others at risk. Tonks had, kindly, suggested hers and her mother’s home, but that had only sent Remus into another downward spiral. Remus was wary enough of transforming around people he loved when he had the Wolfsbane Potion to keep his mind. He was never going to allow himself to lose control with Tonks so close at hand.

Sirius tried to shake his worries off. Remus was tomorrow’s problem. Harry was today’s.

Regulus returned from his investigation surprisingly quickly. He hurried across the street and over a low wall, into some plants. When he stepped out as himself, Sirius reluctantly followed and also used the wall as cover to return to his human form.

“What did you find?” Sirius asked.

Regulus smoothed the front of his cloak. “Harry isn’t there.”

“I know.”

“Then why did we come here?”

Sirius swung his legs over the wall. “Because someone here has information about Harry. Did you follow the blood trail?”

“It’s going to be a dead end.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t use that word.”

“The trail is cold, Sirius. We have no way to know where Harry has gone.”

“Give me a flat number and I’ll go myself.”

Regulus hesitated, but Sirius knew he would give in. They were stubborn, the both of them, but Regulus had never built up the tolerance for conflict that Sirius had. Sirius could thrive in the center of chaos; he’d had to in order to survive. Regulus, however, invested too much effort in fighting chaos. It was always going to be a losing battle.

Regulus crossed the street, back to the building. He pointed his wand at the lock, but it didn’t budge.

Sirius looked over Regulus’ shoulder. “Oh, it’s one of those keypads? <i>Alohomora</i> is no good.” He dug his own wand out and aimed a hot white spark. It fizzed and sputtered and then the lock clicked.

Regulus pulled the door open. “Did you break it?”

Sirius shrugged. “They malfunction all the time. Keeps the Muggle maintenance men employed.”

Regulus led Sirius upstairs to the top floor and gestured at a door near the stairwell. “The trail leads here. But I didn’t see, hear, or smell anything to indicate that Harry might be here. I can’t imagine Harry would have stayed in London.”

“No, but if whoever lives here had Harry’s blood on them, they might be able to tell us something.”

“And if that person is a Death Eater?”

“Then I guess we’ll duel them.” Sirius knocked on the door.

“We aren’t even going to try to disguise ourselves?” Regulus hissed at him, but Sirius couldn’t answer, because the door opened.

The gentleman in the doorway wore a fine Muggle suit. His skin was dark and he had a neatly trimmed beard and shaved head. He looked about Sirius’ age, and was about as tall, though definitely rounder in both face and build.

He looked over the two of them and raised a thick eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Sirius held out his hand. “I hope so. My name’s Sirius.”

“Nigel Brooks,” he said, and shook Sirius’ hand warily. His eyes drifted over Sirius’ shoulder to Regulus, but Sirius had a feeling Regulus would not be keen on an introduction.

Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph. “We’re trying to find someone, and we think you might have run into him.” The picture of Harry was from Remus’ wedding. He had folded it over so that Ron and Hermione were hidden, along with most of the movement in the picture. Harry still blinked and his smile moved slightly, but Sirius hoped the Muggle would just think it a trick of the light.

Brooks took the photo to examine it more closely, then shrugged. “Might’ve seen him around.” He looked Sirius and Regulus over again. “You don’t look like police.”

Sirius glanced down at his worn jeans and leather jacket. “Hardly,” he said. “I’m his godfather. His mother’s awfully worried. We’re just trying to get some information.”

Brooks returned the photograph. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Best of luck, though.”

He started to close the door, but Sirius wedged his foot in the door. “We know you saw him, and at the very least, got his blood on you. We’re just trying to find out where he might have gone. There are dangerous people after him.”

Nigel straightened, and Sirius recognized a familiar determination in his dark eyes. “If what you say is true, and if I really did run into a young man, injured and running for his life, then what makes you think I would tell the first strangers who knocked on my door anything about him?”

“We’re his family.”

“Family can’t be dangerous?” Brook’s voice was cold, and Sirius, while he appreciated the man’s desire to protect Harry, felt outmatched. He didn’t feel outmatched very often.

“His name is Harry,” Regulus said, “and all we want is to know that he’s alive. You don’t have to tell us where he went, just tell us that he’s safe.”

Brooks stared at Regulus for a moment, then opened the door so it was no longer pressing on Sirius’ foot. “He’s alive, as far as I know. There was a lot of blood, but his injuries weren’t as bad as they looked. I thought whoever was chasing him had torn his wrist open, but when he showed it to me, there wasn’t even a scratch. He refused to go to hospital, just said he wanted out of the city, so I put him on a train. That’s the last I saw of him.”

“Has anyone else come asking for him?”

“No. You’re the first.”

“Thank you for your help.” Regulus inclined his head. “Sirius, we’re done here.”

Sirius did not think they were done. He wanted to know exactly which train Harry had gotten on. But Regulus was already leaving.

“Reg — wait —” But Regulus did not wait. Sirius eyed Brooks, but he supposed Regulus was right. They weren’t going to get anything more out of this man.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Sirius —” Brooks hesitated, and Sirius waited, hopeful.

But Brooks gave them neither a train nor destination. Instead, he handed Sirius a small business card. “If you find him, I’d like to know he’s alright.”

Sirius looked down at the plain white card. It had the man’s name printed on it and the contact information for an art gallery. 

“I’d find him faster if you’d tell me more.”

“He told me he was going to find his aunt and uncle,” Brooks said. “If you’re really his family, it shouldn’t be hard for you to track them down.” And he closed the door.

Sirius walked away, more confused than when they had arrived. He met Regulus at the bottom of the stairs.

“Did he tell you anything?” Regulus asked.

Sirius handed Regulus the business card. “He said Harry went to stay with an aunt and uncle. Do you think he meant Tonks and Remus?”

“I suppose that would be a simple way to explain their relationship to a stranger. Why would Harry go to Remus?”

“Maybe a fight with Greyback scared some sense in him.” Sirius found himself hoping it was true rather than believing it was true. Harry had been pushing them away all summer, and Sirius thought one duel unlikely to have changed Harry’s mind. Harry had his mother’s stubbornness, after all. 

Regulus handed the card back to Sirius. “I suppose there’s nothing else to do. We’ll just have to trust this man Brooks’ word that Harry is safe.”

“We’re hardly done.” Sirius was already walking back to the station at a brisk pace. “Now we show Harry’s photograph on the platforms. We start with the line headed for Tonks, and pray he didn't actually board a train to Paris.”

An unusual anger sparked in Regulus’ cold gaze as he hurried after Sirius. Not that Regulus never got angry, but he usually tempered it so well. “Harry is wanted by some of the most dangerous people in the world and you think it's a good idea to flash his picture around to every blasted Muggle in London — you’re also wanted by those same people! You can't just spend a day on a platform where they're surely to be looking for Harry — it’s absurd!”

Regulus' general frown of displeasure twitched with his outburst. His nose scrunched the tiniest bit and his already thin lips seemed to disappear. He looked so much like Narcissa. Sirius looked away, wishing his brother could wear someone else’s face. He wished, more often than not, that he could wear someone else’s face, too. Perhaps that was just another reason it was so much easier to be Padfoot.

“We’ll wear disguises.” Sirius surprised himself with the “we.” He had never wanted Regulus to come along on this hunt in the first place, but suddenly he was not keen on Regulus leaving him to it alone. “Hell we could even pretend to be Hit Wizards, deputised with hunting Harry down, if any wizards question us.”

“But the Muggles, Sirius! You’ll have to Obliviate every single one of them that you talk to, or else the Death Eaters or Hit Wizards or Muggle-born Registration Commision or Snatchers or any other group of wizards that want you and I dead could interrogate them and track it back to us — or worse back to Harry.”

“That will take us forever —”

“Why can't you just let Harry go? You know he got away from Greyback. Brooks put him on a train, helped him, made sure he wasn’t injured, so he must be safe somewhere. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. Not for me, and not for Lily nor Remus.” It wouldn’t be enough for James, either.

“You can't protect him from everything, Sirius. He’s seventeen now, and whatever Dumbledore’s asked of him —”

Anger flared hot and bright in Sirius' chest as he whirled on Regulus, and there was no Padfoot to soften the edges as he snarled Regulus words back at him. “‘Whatever Dumbledore’s asked of him’? Harry’s told us you're in on it so don't give me that hippogriff shit acting like you don't know. Like you're not keeping all the same secrets from us as Harry is. Like this is somehow less your fault, just because you slink away from arguments whenever you damn well please.”

Regulus’ temper faded from his face, replaced with an unusual, stricken expression that Sirius was not sure he had ever seen on his brother. Blacks felt many things, and usually felt them strongly, but fear? That wasn't something Sirius had seen in any of his cousins before, nor his brother.

But to Regulus’ credit, he did not transform into a cat and run away. He carefully schooled his expression back into its traditional calm and proud with a dash of disdainful form.

“I’ll help you find Harry,” he finally said in a quiet, almost apologetic voice. “But we Transfigure our disguises, no Polyjuice. It's too unreliable. And we Obliviate every Muggle we meet — don’t argue with me on this, Sirius! Yes, it will take longer, but it will keep Harry safer, and I trust that wherever he has run off to, he is indeed safe. We would have heard otherwise if he wasn't.”

Sirius took in several deep breaths to make sure his anger was cooled, at least enough that it would not attract the attention of those passing by them on the pavement, before speaking again. “Fine. Let’s do what we can today. And I want to put a word in the paper to Tonks, just in case he really did mean that he was on his way to her and Remus.”

“The paper? Sirius —”

“Not the <i>Prophet</i>. I’m not an idiot. Tonks, Remus, and I have a code we use for personals in the <i>Times</i>. Her idea. Said her dad used to use it in the first war to communicate with some of his Muggle-born friends, at first just after he and Andromeda eloped and had gone to ground to avoid her family, then as part of the war effort.”

Regulus shook his head. “It’s still risky —”

“It’s a war. There’s risk. Accept it and move on. The longer you whine about it, the longer nothing gets done.”

Regulus studied Sirius, and Sirius did not care for the intent look on Regulus’ face, almost like Regulus was trying to peer directly into his thoughts. It reminded him too much of their mother, trying to parse just how much trouble Sirius was in, just how much damage he had done.

But Regulus did not scold Sirius, nor criticise him. “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “You're right.”

Had Sirius been in a slightly better mood, he might have had a joke ready, made Regulus repeat his apology. As it stood, Sirius had trouble accepting it at all. Perhaps it was no real wonder he and Regulus had grown so far apart. Even when one reached out, the other couldn't bother to reach back.

He zipped up his jacket, suddenly cold, though it was only the middle of the afternoon, and kicked his boots against a nearby wall. It didn't lessen his frustration. 

And after a full day walking up and down train platforms, talking to and Obliviating every Muggle they met, Sirius was no less frustrated. The task ahead of them was enormous, and with each passing day that left them with no leads, it seemed more and more futile.

But there was nothing else to do. Lily and Remus did their part connecting with the Order, hunting down rumors of sightings of Harry, while Regulus and Sirius plodded on through Muggle after Muggle and Memory Charm after Memory Charm.

It was two full moons more before, finally, a Muggle woman frowned as she looked at the photo.

“I think… Goodness it’s been a while, but I think I did see him. Or I saw a boy who looked like him. Had red hair. I thought it odd with his complexion, but it was a dark sort of red, I suppose. The glasses… I can’t remember if he was wearing them or not. He was a twitchy lad, though, rather unhappy face. Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“No,” Sirius said, though it was not exactly true. He spoke quickly, anxious to get every detail out of this woman. “I’m his godfather, just trying to track him down. Can you tell me where he went?”

She pursed her lips. “I think… it must have been the rail line that goes out to Portsmouth — yes, I was visiting my sister that day, and I remember he had a large pack. I thought he must be on his way home from a walking tour.”

Sirius could not fathom what might have attracted Harry to Portsmouth. He wondered if it had something to do with Dumbledore. Maybe Regulus would know, but Regulus said nothing, mere stood at Sirius’ side, waiting to Obliviate this poor woman as soon as she was done talking.

“Do you know where he got off the train?” Sirius asked.

She frowned and handed the photograph back to Sirius. “I don’t know… he tripped over my bag on his way out. I felt awful. It… oh! It was Guildford. Yes, I remember, because —”

“Thank you so much for your time,” Regulus interrupted. Then, her eyes glassed over. She blinked at Sirius and Regulus, slowly, uncertain.

“Er — can I help you?” she asked.

“No, thanks,” Sirius grunted, and as soon as she was gone, he whirled on Regulus. “She might have had more information!”

“We needed to know where Harry had gone. Now we know. What else could she have told us? It’s not as if she followed him off the train. Besides, Sirius, she saw Harry over a month ago. There’s no way Harry’s still in Guildford, no reason he would stay in one place for so long.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius lowered his voice and tried to keep the threatening tone out of it, but he found it difficult. “You don’t know of anything in Guildford that might keep him there? Nothing to do with Dumbledore or You-Know-Who?”

Regulus’ stare was even, but that didn’t tell Sirius much. “Nothing. And if you can’t think of anything that would keep him there, then all we can do is go down there and see if some other Muggle happens to remember him passing through months ago — there’s just no sense in it. We know he got away safely. Let that be enough.”

Sirius was no longer listening to Regulus. He had plucked a map from a kiosk and was staring at Guildford on the network of spider web lines spiraling out from Waterloo Station, trying to make sense of why it had appealed to Harry.

“I’m an idiot,” he finally said.

“That’s nothing new,” Regulus said.

“Brooks told us where he was going from the beginning and I was too stupid to understand.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He was going to see his aunt and uncle, is what Brooks said. Not Tonks and Remus — his mum’s sister. Her Muggle family.”

“Does Harry even know them?”

“He knows they’re in hiding, and he knows their house will be empty — bloody hell I can’t believe I’m that thick.” Sirius balled the map up in his fist.

“Should we tell Lily and Remus —”

“Let’s make sure he’s there before we get their hopes up.” Sirius fought down another grunt of frustration. He had not felt this stupid in a long time, but how was he supposed to connect Harry to Petunia and Vernon, whom Harry had met perhaps twice in his life? He did not even wait to slip away to a hidden corner of the platform to Disapparate. He turned on the spot, in the midst of a crowd of Muggles, ignoring all of Regulus’ protests, and disappeared with a crack.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Bad Night, Good Knight

@damianwayneweek day 3: That Wasn't Supposed to Happen

I'm playing a little loose with the prompt since the thing that wasn't supposed to happen takes place before the fic starts but you know what? Sometimes you just want to write a few pages of Damian reacting to a bad patrol instead of experiencing it (and also experiencing more bad patrol).

Summary:

After what Damian would consider a fairly disastrous start to patrol, Spoiler takes over and helps him work out some of the stress and frustration he's still feeling.

AO3 Link

~

Damian kicked his feet out, letting the heels of his boots hit against the brick behind them. He shifted a bit, so he was leaning back on his palms. Below him, the city sparkled on a rare clear night. The city looked bright, glittering almost like Bludhaven did after the rain.

His thoughts were not as carefree or bright. Damian focused on his breathing, attempting to still his heart as it continued to race, even well after the anti-toxin had kicked in. He kept his eyes on the buildings, on shadows moving behind curtains, and an owl that fluttered by. It was much better than closing his eyes.

Closing his eyes meant being back in that warehouse. It meant not knowing the difference between truth or fiction. If the hands on him were friend or foe. It meant worrying--thinking-- believing he’d gotten his family killed.

Sharp pain raced up both wrists and he hissed, pulling forward to lift the weight off them. Careful, Damian tugged at his gloves and pulled them off to examine the skin underneath. His wrists were ringed with red, bruised, with slightly raised lines here and there. Left over from the ropes he’d been tied with for the better part of the night.

“Tt.” he turned his hand over, displeased that he’d come away so affected, in mind and body.

“I’ve got some cream for that.” Stepahnie’s voice preceded her by a moment as Spoiler dropped to the ledge beside him.

A purple glove held out a small bottle to Damian which he took, and eyed. It was what she’d said, bruise cream, the container about half empty, but with plenty left for Damian to use.

“You keep this on hand?”

She shrugged, “You never know when you’ll need it, for us or civilians.”

He hummed, and popped open the top, a light citrusy scent tickled his nose. Stephanie waited while he applied the cream to one wrist, then the other. It made things feel better almost immediately, if only because it felt cool and soothing.

“Thank you.” he said, capping it and handing it back over.

Stephanie ruffled his hair, “No problem.”

Damian scowled and leaned away from her hand, but she followed him, truly messing up his carefully styled hair. Well, it had been carefully styled before they’d left for patrol. He had no idea how it looked after being nabbed by Crane and dangled as bait for the rest of his family. His hair hadn’t been at the top of his priorities for the past few hours.

“Where are the others?” he asked, attempting to keep his tone casual.

“Batman’s wrapping up with Crane. Hood’s already left to finish his route. And Nightwing’s back at the cave resting, and has been for a while. The others are where they’ve been all night.” She mimed dancing and drinking tea, “At the gala we got lucky enough to miss.”

Damian’s heart twinged at Nightwing. He wanted to ask further about Richard, but Stephanie’s tone seemed to indicate he was fine. Still, tone was not enough to still the worry in his stomach. The last he’d seen of Richard was the man sitting up, bleary eyed, with blood trailing down his forehead. And then Damian had been dragged too far away to see him at all.

“Is he--” the words slipped out before Damian could stop himself.

“Wing’s fine, Robin.” Stephanie’s voice softened, “I found him after you disappeared, and he’s been home since under A’s careful eye. Argued up a storm over not being allowed to come help find you, but eventually B talked him down.”

Damian nodded, injured Richard would have only been a further liability in the field. Damian had already made himself enough of one by being captured, Father would not have wanted any more sons in danger.

“And are you here to return me home?”

“Do you want to go home?”

He shook his head.

“Then I say we continue to patrol. Bruce isn’t the boss of us.” She stood, and reached a hand down to Damian, “Come on, grab those gloves, we’ve got stuff to do.”

Damian let a smile slip across his face, the first all night, “Excellent.”

Stephanie took point on their route, and Damian was happy to let her. He wanted action, and movement, and whatever they could do to help shake the fear still lingering over him.

They started by stopping a mugging.

Together, Spoiler and Robin dropped down behind the two men, and broke them up. Damian distracted one, dancing around him to force him to move away from the woman they’d been terrorizing.

Behind the guy, Damian watched as Spoiler kicked over the other man, and he stayed down. Damian ducked a wild swing from his own opponent, and threw a punch at the man’s open side. It landed and sent the guy stumbling backwards.

Damian let his attention slide back over to where Spoiler was. She was leading the terrified woman away from danger. Good, that’d give Damian room to really move if he needed to.

He traded blows with his opponent, before leveraging himself off one of the nearby buildings to slam his feet into the man’s chest and take him down. Damian zip tied him, and stood, turning back to search for Spoiler and the woman again.

Instead he found himself face to face with the other thug. The man loomed over him, and Damian froze. Fear raced through his chest in a sharp wave. He was back where he’d been earlier that night, surrounded by green gas he couldn’t stop breathing in and facing down an enemy too big for him to deal with while Nightwing was hurt, on the floor behind him.

Damian knew what was going to happen next. He’d try to lure the man away only to be knocked out by a lucky swing from the guy’s bat. Then he’d be caught. Dragged away from his family. Trapped. He’d--

Purple flashed across his vision as Spoiler jumped in with a high kick that cracked the man’s jaw so hard Damian heard it clearly. The sound snapped him out of his haze and he lurched back into action. Together, they took the guy down in seconds.

When they were done, Brown eyed him but didn’t comment beyond, “I’ll call it in, let’s keep moving.”

While Spoiler’s voice rattled off the crime and location over the comms to the GCPD Damian mentally worked out how to get them back on their regular route.

They patrolled for another ten minutes, swinging from building to building and occasionally stopping to sweep a street. Worried meows of a cat caught Damian’s ears. He froze, then scanned the street.

It was a residential one, lined with apartments and old trees that climbed close to buildings. After a moment a high, young, voice followed one of the cat’s noises.

“Chance, please get down, boy. I can’t climb up there!”

Damian and Stephanie exchanged looks, then together they moved in the direction of the noises. It was obvious after a moment that Chance, a tabby, was stuck not in a tree, but on a jutting portion of roof overlooking a child’s bedroom window.

The voice belonged to a little girl, with braided pigtails and Wonder Woman themed pajamas. She was leaning precariously out of her window and waving frantically at the cat. At the sound of vigilantes landing on a nearby tree, her attention shifted, and blue eyes widened at them.

“Robin! Batgirl!”

Stephanie winced and muttered, “Spoiler, but close.”

She elbowed Damian indicating he should be the one to rescue the cat. He rolled his eyes behind his domino.

“Don’t worry.” Damian said to the girl, “I’ll get Chance down for you.”

Somehow her eyes went even wider, as if she couldn’t imagine how he might know the cat’s name, despite having yelled it out moments before.

Careful, Damian climbed from the tree to the building’s roof. Then he made his way across shingles to the cat, terrified and clinging to its spot on the roof.

“Here boy,” Damian murmured, slipping a treat from one of his utility belt pouches (Father had once told him that animal treats were a waste of a good space, if only he could see their usefulness now), holding it out to the frightened cat.

Well, Chance seemed to be still a kitten. A growing one, but he had not reached full adulthood yet, which was probably why he was so hesitant to jump the easy distance into the girl's arms.

Damian waited patiently for the scent of food to overcome the kitten’s fear, and when it was distracted enough, he scooped the creature into his arms, and let it have the treat.

He hooked his grapple to the roof and lowered himself carefully down to the window. The girl eagerly reached for her kitten, and Damian made sure she had a secure hold on the creature before fully releasing it.

“I would suggest against opening the window late at night, even a little bit, Chance is still small enough to wiggle through and get stuck again.” he said.

She gave him a serious nod, and then, “Thank you, Robin! And thank Batgirl too, you’re both so cool.”

Damian smiled at her, “Have a good night, you and Chance.”

He pulled himself back up to the roof and then rejoined Spoiler in her tree. The two waved at the girl, and jumped back into patrol.

After that they stopped to help a woman unloading groceries from a late night shopping trip, walked an inebriated young man home, and shooed off teens eager to graffiti a food truck. They were all easy tasks, and somehow they never turned to another mugging or robbery. Damian did not realize that until he was standing beside Spoiler as she helped change a flat tire with the surety of a pro.

“Spoiler,” Damian said, after the car was on its way back down the road, “Are we going to stop any more crime tonight, or act as errand boys for Gotham’s late night citizens?”

“Errand boys and girls.” Stephanie corrected, “And we’ll stop crime if we see it. O hasn’t phoned anything in where we’re at yet, and it’s good to be helpful. We’re preventing crime, rather than stopping it.”

It was a smooth, practiced answer. Like she’d heard it before when questioning Batman or Timothy on a previous patrol. Damian let it slide for the moment, intent on keeping a careful eye out for other crimes.

His hesitance earlier would not be repeated, he would make sure of that. He would prove that he was fine. That the shaky feeling in his chest when he breathed was exertion, not lingering fear or embarrassment over his earlier predicament.

Only, they continued with the easy tasks. They waited with another Gothamite who’s car had overheated, until the tow arrived. Then they found a box of puppies and took them to a local shelter Damian recommended.

Finally Oracle called in an alarm going off at a convenience store nearby where they were patrolling. Damian moved instantly towards it, unwilling to let Spoiler pull him back again.

She didn’t say anything, only fell in beside him as they made their way over to the store. When they arrived, four men were exiting the building in a hurry. One of them carried a register they’d grabbed, two of the others had a huge burlap sack carried between them, and a third carried a smaller one heavy with whatever they’d taken from inside the store.

Damian swung down, a wrecking ball of force and frustration. His feet slammed into the chest of one of the men carrying sacks. The man went flying, the contents of the bag scattering across the concrete around him as he landed.

Before the other three could really figure out what was going on, Damian had turned away from the thief he’d taken out, and was already throwing a batarang at the guy carrying the register. It caught his hand and he yelped, dropping the register with a crash.

By that point, Spoiler jumped into the fray, her cape flowing out in a huge swoop meant to blind the men still on their feet.

Damian turned back to the guy who’d dropped the register and threw himself at him. The element of surprise had faded at this point and the men were rallying, but Damian was trained well, no matter what his failure earlier that night had pointed to.

He swept the man’s feet out from under him in an arc, then came down on his stomach with his elbow.

As Damian stood, someone grabbed him from behind, and hauled him up. Damian scrambled, and grabbed at the hand but whoever had him didn’t seem to care about the way Damian’s fingers scratched at him. Before he knew it, Damian was tumbling backwards, thrown down not into the ground like he’d expected, but into something soft that caught him just before the hard concrete.

One of the bags the men had been using to steal from the shop closed around him and Damian felt his heart speed up. He tried to shove himself up, darkness closing over him as whoever had grabbed him tightened the strings on the large sack. But his hands couldn’t get purchase on the bag. It was taught with his weight, meaning there wasn’t a good area to grab at.

He kicked and shoved, his brain whiting out as the idea that he was trapped closed over him. No. Not again . This couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t have failed a third time tonight he--He couldn’t breathe.

And then the bag swung. Damian’s stomach lurched, with the movement. He braced himself as best as he could, curling tight to protect himself before the bag slammed into the ground. The impact broke his curl as his knees and elbows cracked into the hard ground and he gasped with the pain of it all.

The only good thing he could take about the jarring action was that it had shaken him from his stupor. Body aching, he dug a batarang out and sliced the bag open. He tumbled out as the man lifted the sack again for a second attack.

Damian rolled over to push himself back to his feet. His arms were shaking, his chest tight. Something curled in his chest that felt vaguely like unshed tears. Damian couldn’t quite name the emotions tossing themselves around his head like he’d been tossed helplessly in that bag, but none of them were good or a call to get up and fight.

Behind him, he heard Spoiler grunt, followed by the smack of weapon against skin, and a thud. Then, for the second time that night, Damian found a purple gloved hand reaching out for him.

“Need a hand?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, but took her hand and let her help him to his feet. His head swam slightly, but otherwise he was fine.

“Thanks.” he murmured.

“No problem.” She said, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

Damian busied himself tugging the unconscious men towards each other and tying them up, while Spoiler made their second call of the evening.

“If you’re ready, I’ve got our next location locked in.” Stephanie said, as Damian stood.

He wasn’t. He was pretty sure the only thing he was ready for was bed. To curl up, safe and sound, with his face pressed into Titus’s flank thoughts of failure long gone in the comfort of home. Instead of admitting that, Damian nodded. He was Robin, and he’d be as useful as possible as long as their patrol lasted. Even if he seemed to keep freezing up. At some point he’d get over it. He always had during training back in the League, eventually he got over his fear. This was no different than that. He just had to keep pushing.

Spoiler led them both to a playground. It was known for late night drug deals between some of Gotham High’s more affluent teens.

The playground was large. It had a swing set with six swings, a couple seesaws, those little animals on springs, and a sand pit. To top it all off it had a huge sprawling play place in the center. Tire swings hung off it, monkey bars and rope bridges connected portions of it. Three slides of various types came off it in different areas. It even had a little rock wall for enterprising kids to use instead of the other stairs to climb up.

“What are we doing here?” Damian asked, looking around.

“Acting as deterrents. Oracle said she’d heard some chatter about a meet up tonight. I figured two vigilantes camped out should be enough to make any wayward teens think twice.”

Damian nodded, relieved that they wouldn’t be moving directly back into action. Mentally he berated himself for that, if he were to get over the night’s failure he needed to be more proactive, not less.

Damian followed Stephanie to a spot on the play place where they could look out onto the park. Stephanie leaned up against one of the walls and Damian kicked his legs over the edge eyes scanning the park.

“So.” Stephanie said, “Ready to talk about it?”

“Tt.” Damian pulled his legs up and towards his chest.

She had given him long enough to calm down a little from the night’s events, and while he was still shaky, the effects of the toxin had at least seemed to fade a bit.

“It was--unpleasant.” he admitted.

He pressed his eyes closed, remembering. On a good day it was not fun to be captured and held as bait. They had an in-joke about how Robin held the honorary title of boy hostage, but in truth none of them enjoyed that role. Robin’s duty was to protect Batman, and being held against him was the exact opposite of that.

But Damian had been held hostage, and used against his family.

He’d been taken on what should have been a routine investigation of a shady warehouse. He, Nightwing, and Spoiler were just supposed to look. Instead, once the three had split up, Crane had attacked. Damian made it to Richard before anything too terrible happened to his brother, but he hadn’t been prepared for the toxin, hadn’t been prepared for the number of goons.

It was pure luck that Crane had only taken him. Though, Damian now assumed that to be Spoiler’s doing, showing up before both Nightwing and Robin could be taken. As the lightest, of course they’d grabbed Robin.

“I--” he started, and shook his head.

Stephanie knew what it was like to be taken. What it was like to be under the effects of Crane’s toxin. He did not have to explain how he’d struggled to escape or the panic that had laced his chest when his family had arrived to rescue him and he’d watched as they fought, were cut down, continued to fight, and were cut down again. His worst fear of them dying because of him playing out on a loop until Father managed to administer the anti-toxin.

Stephanie laid a hand on his shoulder, “It’s never fun to be taken by someone you’re trying to stop, and even worse when they hurt you because of it.”

He squeezed his arms around his legs, old feelings of embarrassment at being so vulnerable tried to claw their way out of him. And another feeling rising up, protectiveness over them, guilt over being why they’d been in danger.

He shook his head again, “I do not care that he hurt me. I put the family in danger. Father, you, Todd. Richard.” he admitted, “You were led into a trap because I was too weak to defend Nightwing. Too slow to catch onto the toxin in the room. I failed, and you all could have died because of it.”

He trained his eyes on the swing set, unwilling to meet his sister’s gaze. He was being far too open with his emotions, but--the talking helped. Stephanie and Richard had drilled that into his head.

Talking. Trusting. Letting himself fall so they could catch him.

But? Should he if it put them in danger? Tonight seemed to blow a wide hole in all those promises. Richard was home, injured, and all because he’d trusted Damian. Stephanie had saved Damian three times this night alone because of his own inability to be better. How many falls were too many?

“First of all, you didn’t fail. No more than any of us did when Scarecrow made his first attack. We were all caught off guard. You were just a little more unlucky than we were.”

“It was Nightwing they attacked.”

Stephanie leaned over, so her face was in Damian’s field of vision, hair hanging over a shoulder, “You protected him. Got him a mask, and kept them from taking him instead. I’d say he was pretty lucky to have a little guardian Robin looking out for him.”

“Tt.”

She poked him in the arm, “Don’t tt at me, you know it’s true. Would you rather Nightwing not have had you there?”

“Never!” Damian spun on her, and Stephanie grinned with victory. She’d tricked him into looking her way.

“There we go, now we can have a proper conversation.”

“We were talking.” he huffed, but maintained eye contact.

Stephanie reached out and cupped his cheek, “You were the one we were worried about. Did you forget that we want to protect you just as much as you want to keep us safe?” She brushed a finger across his cheek, and he felt the spark of pain where a goon had hit him to wake him up.

“I--”

“You matter.” she said, reading his mind, “Your health and safety is as important as the rest of ours. It’s okay to be rescued from time to time.”

He huffed, “I know. But knowing does not help the frustration. I am supposed to be better. Be worthy of Robin and able to protect you all. Instead I was--I was-- helpless.” Just saying the word brought heat to his eyes, tears pricking at him, begging for release.

Stephanie tugged him close, into a hug, “It’s okay.” she said, a hand in his hair, “It’s hard, I know, but you’re allowed to be vulnerable, Dames.”

He sniffed, blinking back tears, “No names, Spoiler.”

She scoffed, squeezing him a bit tighter, “There’s no one out here to hear.”

Damian huffed, but did not pull away from the embrace. It was nice, resting like this and letting Stephanie play with his hair. It made the tight feeling in his chest ease. Knowing she was fine, that he was fine, that things would be fine.

After a moment he pulled away, running a hand under his nose. Stephanie let him, and they settled back apart, both at the edge now. They were quiet for a while after that, the minutes ticking by in peace.

Then, they saw a car pull up into the lot at the far end of the park. A figure climbed out of it, and started making their way towards the park. They hadn’t seemed to realize that Robin and Spoiler were the one’s camped out in the park yet, and actually raised a hand to wave.

Stephanie winked at Damian and raised her own hand in response.

“Let’s see how long it takes him to realize who we are.” she whispered.

Damian smiled, and chuckled lightly.

The young man pulled out a phone and started messing with it, typing something into the screen as he moved forward. He made it almost all the way to Damian and Stephanie before he looked up. When he did he froze, staring at them, mouth agape.

Stephanie waved again, “Hi. What’s a good kid like you doing in a park like this so late?”

“I--” he said, and Damian thought he looked a bit like a catfish, blinking and startled, “Nothing.”

“Well, Mr. Nothing, I suggest if you don’t have any important reason for being here, you head home.” Stephanie said.

Damian gave him one of his most unsettling smiles, sharp and toothy, “Yes, this park isn’t safe after dark, and we wouldn’t want you getting hurt or into trouble.”

He looked between Spoiler and Robin and seemed to decide that whatever deal he’d had planned for the night was not worth bothering two vigilantes over. With a sharp nod and a “yes, yeah, good idea.” he scurried off, half running half tripping his way back to his car.

“Drive safe!” Stephanie called.

After he was gone, Stephanie broke into a fit of giggles and Damian followed soon after, her laughter infectious.

“Alright.” she said, after a minute, “Let’s go get something ridiculously greasy and terrible for us, as a reward for a deed well done. Then after I say we head home. ”

She stood and held out a hand to Damian, “Unless you’d rather do ice cream?”

He took it and let her pull him to his feet, “Fast food sounds perfect, lead the way Spoiler.”