#kicks in their sleep and disturbs the illusion. but still.

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinks about the master & the doctor cuddling thinks about them cuddling thinks about them cuddling thinks about them cuddlign thinks-

[balthazarslostlibrary]

One of the things that I think a lot of people who aren’t psychotic don’t realise about psychosis is that, even if you know something isn’t real, or even if you know you are experiencing psychosis, it can still be fucking terrifying.

Not just the fact that being confronted with the fact your brain isn’t working properly can be scary in itself, but knowing something isn’t real doesn’t make that thing not disturbing or scary. It’s not like in the films when a character is being shown illusions and the key to making them go away is to stand up to them.

No, they’re not going away and my brain is still firing off the terror response even though I ‘know’ in some detached way that what I’m experiencing is irrational.

Late last year I forgot to take my meds for a week, and a really common psychosis for me is paranoia that someone is following me or trying to get to me and hurt me, more specifically a sleep paralysis demon I had when I was a child. I was being comforted by my loved ones the evening it started happening badly again, and I knew it wasn’t real, but I was still scared shitless and had a panic attack.

It took a few days for the meds to kick in properly again, and I am so glad that I had people around me who knew what was happening and could support me and make sure I was safe. In the end I was okay, but it really hit me with anxiety around mirrors and windows that persisted for a month after the experience.

I guess this is just a PSA about an experience I had. I hope all you psychotic people out there feel seen by this, I really don’t enjoy the trope of the ‘you just have to realise it’s not real and then it will be fine!’ Thing in media.

[animeyanderelover]

You’re not being strict at all! Is it okay if I request Kurapika and fluff with prompt 40. “What I am doing? I’m punishing myself. Why? Because I upset you earlier.” Thank you and keep up the good work at your own pace!

🥺💔.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, kidnapping, self-harm, slight violence, strict behavior, controlling behavior, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 40: “What I am doing? I’m punishing myself. Why? Because I upset you earlier.”

He had messed up. He had messed up big this time. What had he been thinking? Why had he said those things to you? It had been almost in his reach if hr wouldn't have been such a jerk. Your love had been almost in his reach after months of impatiently waiting.

You had started coming around, had been more willingly spent time with him, searched for comfort in him as well as protection. He had cherished the moments he had finally been able to hold you in his arms without having to endure your struggles, your screaming and the salty tears which had always fallen down your pretty face.

He could have had it all, he could have spent this evening with you, just being lazy and cuddly with you, maybe reading a book together or just enjoying each other's presence.

But due to his faults it all had turned out differently, with you having locked yourself up in your room and him cowering outside of the house, at the front door to be specific. He just couldn't stand it anymore. For hours your whimpers and cries had now filled the house, torturing Kurapika more than he had expected.

You were in pain because of him and each of your wails had hit him like a rain of bricks. It had simply been unbearable for him, his heart had been in too much pain to stand this anymore. So he had thrown himself out of the house, not wanting to face you for the time being. He guessed his face was most likely the last thing you wanted to see right now, the still lingering burning feeling on his cheek being a dreadful reminder of it.

But even outside, guarding still over you, he didn't seem to be safe from you and your haunting weepings, almost echoing through the silent and chilly air of the forest. Why were you still crying? Why hadn't you stopped yet? Hadn't he promised to keep you safe from any sort of pain? Hadn't he been the one who had wanted to adore you like no other and give you the same fuzzy and amazing feeling you always gave him?

But he had broken that promise, he had hurt the one person he loved more than anything else. How could he? He didn't have the right to call himself your protector. And the worst was that he was too much of a coward to even face you right now, to at least try to comfort you.

He hadn't even apologized to you, you had just screamed at him to leave...and he had. Without turning back, without muttering a word. He had just left you mourning lonely in your room. What had you screamed after him when he had done this?

"Come back here! A-Apologize to me! Please...Kurapika!"

He had ignored your pleas, hadn't found the courage in himself to turn around, to give you a hug and apologize to you like you had begged. You hadn't wanted him to leave, you had recently become a bit jumpy with everything around you. You needed him. And he had known it, so why?"

"You're such a horrible liar. You promised to not leave me...You're truly a cold-hearted monster...Well, they say what you hunt and kill, you become. You're no better than them."

He was, wasn't he? He couldn't get these words out of his head, your trembling voice, the audible hurt and feeling of betrayal in it. When exactly had he sunken this low? Had he really...? He couldn't believe that you had compared him to them, the criminals he had been hunting down for years now. Normally he might had gotten angry at you, but not this time. Your words had striked a vulnerable soft spot in his heart and he remembered he had frozen when he had heard these words before rushing away. He hadn't wanted to show you his tears.

It hurt...Someone make it stop. The painful squeezing in his heart, the non-stopping tears flowing down his face, your cries which he seemed to hyper-aware of. His head was pounding, the blood feeing like it was kicking him. It was too much. "Stop this." He pressed his hands over his ears, ripping on his hair whilst doing so. The pain didn't even seem to register itself in his mind, there was simply no place for it anymore. "Please make it all stop. No more. I can't stand this. I hate it."

How much time had passed by? You didn't know, there was no clock in your room. But judging from the fact that it was already dark outside, inky darkness being your only comrade in the killing silence, a lot of hours must have passed by. And he still hadn't come to apologize.

You felt betrayed by this, you had layed hours crying in your bed, waiting for him, to hear footsteps walking up the stairs and him just taking you in his loving embrace and apologizing to you for what he had said.

You knew he hadn't meant it, he had obviously been stressed out by something, his eyes having given his emotions away. Granted, he might have overeacted a bit when you had tried to make him relax, ending with him spitting some really mean words at you.

"What do you understand about me?! You don't know anything!"

"Don't interfere with my business! If it wouldn't be for me, you would have been completely helpless! You're nothing without me!"

If he would have yelled this at you a few weeks ago, you would have snapped back at him. But now these words had hit so differently and you knew why. You had started gaining feelings for him, you had always feared that you would start developing Stockholm syndrome some day.

Back then you had told yourself you would fight it with all your mind, but instead of this you had just given in. You didn't know why. Maybe because both of you had been tired from the constant fights and arguments. All you wanted to live was a peaceful and happy life, just like him. And recently you had started feeling happy again, after you had realized your feelings. And he had been glad too, shown you much more love and care due to you not fighting back anymore. You knew that this was wrong and you would never get your freedom back. But if it meant that you could finally find a way out of your misery, you would accept it. What was so wrong with wanting to be happy, even if it was just an illusion?

You couldn't sleep despite your eyelids feeing like stones. As soon as you closed them, imagines of the fight earlier started to flash before your eyes. You had slapped him, you couldn't believe that you had done it. Sure, you had been agitated and had done it a lot of times before, but the moment you had seen Kurapika's confused and shocked face, hurt flashing his eyes, you had felt like you had just received a slap in your face as well.

Why had this to happen right now, after everything had finally started to feel better? Wy had destiny to be so cruel? All you wanted was storming to the blonde and make him apologize and afterwards dragging him to bed so you two could just savor the closeness to each other. That's all you wanted, it was so cold without his warm body pressed against yours, not to mention the loneliness. You felt empty in that moment, laying quiescent under the blankets, heart heavy and eyes burning from all the spilled tears, the sound of heavy rain outside being the only thing disturbing the silence.

You turned around a bit, staring with saddened eyes at the spot where he would have been by now. But you were only greeted with emptiness, not with warm and lovingly grey eyes which you longed to gaze into right now. You wanted this whole stupid thing to end right now, imagining very well that Kurapika was suffering currently as well. And if he wasn't the one who would prove to have the courage to do the first step, you would do it. Finding him surely couldn't be hard, he was most likely lingering somewhere in the house, hunching somewhere down and feeling terrible about what had happened.

The storm had gotten worse, but Kurapika was barely able to recognize anything around him right now. He was too deep caught in his own emotions and thoughts to even acknowledge it. He didn't realize the cold and chilly air which caused chills and goosebumps to appear anywhere on his body nor that he had started to tremble, the coldness stinging like a million tiny needles. Not even the wind who whipped the water painfully against his face, he did not realize and even if he would have, he wouldn't have cared. The only thing that had been stuck in his mind for the last few hours had been one and only one thing. "(y/n)."

"Kurapika...?" It was barely above a whisper, the wind threatening to carry the small sound far, far awy without Kurapika even hearing it. But he did, he had longed to hear this voice more than anything for a long time, calling his name softly out like this. He tensed up slightly and yet his body seemed to somehow relax as well when hearing the lovely melody of your voice, gifting him a warm tingling in his freezing body. He slowly turned around, tracing his eyes over your shocked form, standing in the doorframe. And for the first time this day, he managed to crack a small smile upon seeing you. It was tired and exhausted, but still a sincere one. "You shouldn't be outside here (y/n). It's very cold. Go back inside."

You didn't listen to him, instead staring with wide eyes at him. He was soaked from head to toe, standing in the center of the storm and being mercilessly hit from the lashing wind and the cold water. His lips had turned a slightly blue shade and it was obvious from the way he was shaking that he was freezing to death out here. He appeared to be exhausted and his voice sounded hoarse, dark circles around his eyes who were glowing in a dull red, having lost the normal flames burning inside of them. It was the first time you had ever seen him this done.

What was he doing here?! Had he been all this time outside, enduring the slaps of the storm?! "What are you doing here?" You looked like you were in absolute disbelief, not understanding why he would risk getting sick and catching a terrible cold when there had been the choice of just going inside in the warmth again. But he had somehow locked himself out of the house, you not getting why he would do this.

"What I am doing?" His face twisted shortly into a pained expression before he quickly overwrote it with a strained smile, saddness still radiating off from it. "Isn't it obvious?" It was, you somehow had a solid guess what all of this was about, but you hoped you might be wrong about it. But your hopes were erased when he said his next sentence. "I'm punishing myself."

No. Please everything, but this. "W-why?", you managed to croak out, tearing up once again when seeing him in his currently pathetic condition. All this just to punish himself? He couldn't be srious! "Why? Because I upset you earlier."

If it wouldn't have been for the sounds of thunder, splashing rain and whistling wind, you were sure the silence would have been a too heavy burden for you to carry in that moment. It only lasted a few moments, but for you and him it felt like a whole eternity. He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing one of his hands through his wet hair. "You shouldn't waste your time with me. Please go back to bed. It's already very late. You should sleep."

"No...not without you." Four small words, spoken in a quiet voice yet they hit Kurapika with unexpected lot of force, worsening his current headache even more and making him once again dizzy, but this time not only negatively. "What?" His voice was quivering, Kurapika feeling his vision blurry even more due to tearing up once again after he had thought he had wasted all his tears the last few hours.

"Come back inside Kurapika. Let's talk about it. You...We don't have to do it this way. Look, I'm sorry for annoying you earlier and hitting you. I should have given you space. I-I don't want this silent treatment anymore. Please just apologize as well and go back inside. Let's forget this incident. Okay?" You wanted to move outside and walk to him, but his sudden demand made you halt.

"Stay there! Please..." He was thankful for the heavy rain who had smeared his face all over with it's cold liquid. It made it nearly impossible for you to differ raindrops from his real tears. "Why would you apologize to me? You didn't do anything wrong. Whatever you did, I deserved it. You should have slapped me more if I'm being honest. I'm the one who was wrong. I-I'm sorry. All I really want is to protect you, but maybe you are right. Maybe I am just like them. Maybe you aren't safe because I'm a threat to you as well. I'm terrible, aren't I?"

He was cruelly mocking himself by now, feeling worthless. He hadn't been able to protect his clan and apparently he wasn't even able to protect you from himself either. Was this how he was supposed to live? Alone with the knowledge that he couldn't protect anyone?

"Prove it to me then." He gave you a mildly confused look. Proving what? "Show me you are sorry by coming back. I don't care if you see yourself as a monster. Granted, I saw you for a long time as some sort of demon as well. You took me away from everything and everyone I loved. I still hate you a bit for that. But...but if you don't stop all of this instantly and get inside, that makes you in my eyes indeed a terrible person!"

Never once before Kurapika had ever considered the thought whether he deserved you or not. But he couldn't help, but feel like he didn't in this moment. He had hurt you, you had cried because of him for hours and yet...you...you...

"Promise me you won't do something like this again. That's all I need. Just do it for me." You were pleading him, eyes holding the pain of a person who wanted someone else back by their side. You wanted him back. How could he say no?

Trying to wipe away his tears wasn't very useful, they just streamed down his face as soon as he had removed them with his damp sleeves. "I promise. It won't happen again."

He barely managed to walk straight through you, hours in the cold had gifted him with a terrible headache and constant waves of dizzyness, leading him to collapsing right in your arms as soon as you had successfully brought him inside again.

"Kurapika! Are you fine?! What am I saying, of course you're not! Wait, let me help you!" Walking up the stairs seemed to be too much for you now, he was too heavy and you were scared both of you might end up falling down. So you settled for the nextbest option. The couch, where you quickly threw all the blankets over him you had.

"I'll be right back! I'll just get some towels and new clothes! Do you want some hot tea? I can make some hot tea for you if you want too! A hot-water bottle sounds like a good idea too! I'll make you one! Maybe also-"

Your hasty talking was interrupted when you felt him suddenly tugging you back to his side, slowly sitting up and burrying his head in your chest. You were flustered by his sudden clingyness. "Kurapika? What's wrong?"

"I don't need towels, new clothes, hot tea or a hot-watter bottle. I don't want it either." His voice was slightly muffled, the vibrations tickling you a bit. He sounded really drowsy and exhausted, but still seemed to possess enough strenght to successfully pull you down so that you were sitting right next to him.

"The only thing I truly need and want right now is you. Stay with me. Don't leave me. Please never leave me. If I have you, that's enough. Then I don't need anything else."

[seyaryminamoto]

Underneath Starlit Skies: Sokkla Saturdays 2021

Day One: Happy Family

On FF.net // On AO3

"Well, goodness. I can't believe he actually pulled it off."

The building awaiting them inland had never seen more beautiful days, Azula had no doubts about that. Few people had seen the Ember Island villa in its previous prime, and only two people out of the many who would spend the week there had any notion of what it had looked like in the past. Yet the decaying estate that had seemed moments away from becoming uninhabitable had been part of yet another of many renewal efforts following the end of the Hundred Years' War: all the weed growing on the roofs had been removed, the rooftiles themselves had been replaced, the gold finish of the crests had been cleansed and renewed, the paint on the walls was vivid again, and the blocked out, old window frames had been replaced by elegantly patterned woodwork that crisscrossed over the glass.

Beyond that, however, Azula found the building itself had been expanded. Her childhood's vacation villa had seemed large when she was but a little girl, but it certainly was much larger now: the grounds around it had been terraformed in current times, allowing the villa to spread wider and larger, with a brand-new annex area that had been build to provide visitors far more rooms to choose from… a necessary luxury, Azula knew, for the countless guests the villa would soon host.

"Huh, so that's the place?" Sokka asked, stepping closer to where she stood, by the ferry's railing, and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Looks… cozy."

"Cozy?" Azula smirked at Sokka's deliberately arrogant declaration. He snickered as she elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Come on, it's practically a palace of its own."

"Maybe, but it's not that fancy once you get used to fancier…" he smirked: he pressed a kiss to the top of his wife's head, and Azula instinctively leaned into him. "You've spoiled me rotten over the years and you know it. I used to be so much humbler…"

"So, I ruined you, is it?" Azula asked, turning in his arms, eyebrows raised skeptically. Sokka snickered and nodded, prompting her to laugh again and shake her head. "You've never known any shame, and I love that about you far more than I should."

"Who says you shouldn't?" Sokka grinned: Azula took his bait, leaning in to press her lips against his…

"Mom, Dad! Ew!"

Their kiss broke off as Azula sighed, glancing hopelessly at Shun: the boy squirmed and stuck his tongue out at their blatant display of affection, as he always did.

"Guess now we know who says I shouldn't," Azula smirked, shaking her head at her son, who pouted stubbornly. Sokka, however, scoffed and waved a hand in Shun's direction.

"Never mind Shun, he's just grumpy I've got your attention for now," Sokka said, proudly. Azula laughed as Shun gasped in outrage. "You'd think he'd be used to it, he sees us doing this all the time, seriously, ALL the time…!"

"He's a stubborn one. Wait until he finds someone to kiss too, we'll return the favor tenfold," Azula taunted Shun, who blushed furiously while Sokka laughed proudly.

"Sounds like a plan," he said

"No! No kissing! I won't kiss anyone!" Shun determined, stubbornly.

"See? That's why your mom comes to me: if you won't even kiss her cheek, I have to make up for it," Sokka declared proudly: Shun was still far too young to learn how to navigate the waters of verbal fencing with his father and Sokka, unlike him, had countless years of training in the arts of how to turn someone's words against them. He had done it thousands of times to Azula… just as she had done it thousands of times to him. Shun, however…

"Ugh!" was the little boy's final, eloquent declaration before he stormed off, pouting irritably, on his way to the side of the ferry where his sisters were.

"Ah, sweet victory…" Sokka smirked, tightening his embrace around Azula.

She couldn't hold back her smile, comfortably nestled in his arms, as her eyes raked their ferry all the way to where the children sat: Hotaru had kept Yuuna distracted with wild tales of hybrid animals, an effective way of ensuring the young waterbender wouldn't do anything chaotic with her powers, such as accidentally building up waves that could disturb the progress of their vessel, or even breaking the hull by practicing her ability to freeze water. She had much to learn yet, but their youngest had a knack for choosing to learn it all at the worst possible timing: Sokka and Azula had taken turns keeping her busy so far, but Hotaru had graciously relieved them from the job at the last leg of their journey. Shun joined the two girls now, sitting on the floor before them, much more interested in listening to his older sister's stories than in watching his parents' relentless displays of affection.

"It feels like we set out barely a few minutes ago…" Sokka smiled, glancing back at the house with amazement. "I really hope our little vacation doesn't go by in a blur. It's been a while since we took any breaks…"

"It has. But now that things have calmed down a bit, I think we could afford doing this sort of thing more often," Azula said, with a weak smile. "Zuko did say he wanted to make this a yearly event, at the very least… he might have to make it more frequently than that, though. Some of our expected guests would surely appreciate taking breaks from the harshness of winter once in a while…"

"For that matter, he ought to rent the house to them in winter so they can flee from the nasty weather," Sokka suggested, with a smirk. "Which could mean we would get two vacations a year… that's a pretty good deal, I think."

"I think so too," Azula said, relaxing comfortably against his chest.

The sea's salty scent, the sun's bright glow, the beauty in the colorful scenery before them… all of it heralded good things, even if Azula suspected it painted a prospect far too good to be true. Even if the years had mellowed them out, she was quite likely to butt heads with her brother over anything and everything… and Sokka was bound to do the same with his own sister, whenever she arrived. Then, there was also the matter of having far too many children, of variable ages, running around within a single house… it was difficult enough keeping track of Yuuna and Shun most days, Azula hardly wanted to imagine how much more difficult it would be to handle their childish antics when combined with those of her brother's children, too… as well as all the kids that might just be part of their grand revelry. At this point, Azula wasn't sure who had confirmed attendance and who hadn't: for once, she had nothing to do with the organization of an event. Zuko had handled everything himself, therefore, she would have nothing to do but kick back and enjoy whatever madness this week had in store for them.

Even the dock, rundown and unusable as it had been the last time Azula had so much as glanced this way in Ember Island, had been rebuilt and strengthened by solid, beautiful workmanship into a magnificent pier: the manatee-whales carrying forward their ferry slowed right beside it, and the activity of the ferry's workers signaled to the children that the journey was finally at an end. As tame as she always was, even Hotaru couldn't hold back the bright smile and enthusiasm that rushed over her upon realizing they had reached their destination.

"Alright, time to reel in our three little storms," Azula smiled, clasping Sokka's hand and yanking him towards the kids, who had already leapt to their feet, beaming brightly.

"That's the house, Mom?" Hotaru asked, gold eyes bright with illusion. "It's amazing!"

"Well, it certainly is now," Azula smiled, nodding as she cast another glance at their destination. "Your uncle's done a surprisingly great job at making it better than it ever was."

"Do I get to pick my room?!" Shun asked, beaming brightly. Azula raised an eyebrow.

"I wonder about that. I mean, there should be enough room for everyone in there, if all repairs and construction were finished on time…" Azula said, tapping her chin. "But I wonder if Zuko has already decided on our sleeping arrangements, beforehand…"

"Like… a room for each family?" Hotaru asked. Sokka winced visibly at the notion.

"No… more like rooms for each set of parents, and the kids can all sleep in the same tiny room," he decided, smirking. Azula rolled her eyes and elbowed his ribs again, prompting him to chuckle… yet it didn't seem the kids were all that displeased by the idea.

"Maybe girls would share, and boys too…?" Hotaru said, smiling.

"Me and Hotaru!" Yuuna exclaimed, wrapping her little arms around her sister's leg. Shun pouted upon realizing he wouldn't be with his oldest sister too, but he crossed his arms over his chest and smiled shortly afterwards:

"That's fine, then! I'll be with Renshu and Iroh!" he declared.

"And Yuudai," said Hotaru, smiling weakly. "I guess he'll have to be in charge of making sure all of you behave yourselves?"

"Heh, I was just kidding around. Who'd have thought they'd actually like that idea…?" Sokka spoke quietly to Azula, who chuckled and shook her head.

"We'll see about all this once we're at the house, kids. Now, then…" she withdrew from Sokka's embrace most unwillingly, yet as disappointed as he was to let her walk away, he knew she meant to speak with the ferry's sailors, ensuring they would bring their luggage safely to the house.

Azula thought they hadn't brought excessive amounts of luggage but, considering the potential chaos that never failed to swirl around children – someone might spill juice over their clothes, any accidents could result in scraped knees or elbows, their possessions could be mixed up with those of their cousins, among countless possibilities –, they never could be too prepared. Each child had a small bag to carry themselves, as Sokka had taught them to pack essentials and carry them in a personal bag for any trip they might take, in case anything unpleasant happened. The two of them had bags of their own… though Sokka, as ever, was carrying his wife's. At this point, Azula was well past the point of trying to reason with him about the futility of letting him carry her emergency supplies, he'd make up any goofy excuse to continue doing it… and in the end, it was rather gallant of him to do so, anyway.

Once she had settled everything with the sailors, Azula finally returned to her family: the ramp that led to the dock had already been set down, and it seemed Shun and Yuuna were ready to race down to solid ground, eager smiles on their faces as Sokka held them back, by the scruff of their respective outfits.

"Ah, Mommy's back now, see?" Sokka smiled at Azula, and the kids grinned brightly too. "We're all stepping down this big ship together, alright?"

"As it should be," Azula determined, stepping up and wrapping an arm around Hotaru's shoulders. Her oldest daughter smiled at the gesture, watching fondly as her younger siblings put on an act of trying to run down the ramp, despite their father still held them back. "Though I have the feeling you three ought to climb down first, not sure Hotaru and I care to compete over who touches land first."

Her words wound up offering her children an idea she hadn't truly planned on giving them: Yuuna and Shun smiled viciously at each other, a telltale sign that chaos was about to begin, and Sokka only had time to yelp before the young waterbender raised a burst of water, hoisted from the sea around them, right into her brother's fistful of flames.

"Ack! No crazy bending, you…! Hey! Hey, now!" Sokka squealed: the resulting steam from his children's joint attack had seen him releasing them from his hold… and now the two kids ran down the ramp, laughing happily, while he pouted at them. "How dare you…?! I should have you grounded! Azula, can I ground them?"

"Asking me for permission to ground them isn't exactly productive when it comes to enforcing your authority, Sokka…" Azula smirked, as Hotaru laughed beside her. Sokka pouted before rising to his feet, hands fisted on his hips.

"Unacceptable! I am going to ground you, yes I will!" he declared, his voice cracking in the typical way it did whenever he was joking.

He strode down the ramp in an awkward gait, and the two kids, already standing on solid ground, only giggled guiltily as he approached them.

"Who'd have thought…? You two, little troublemaking rascals… you're always at each other's throats, but you're the best of friends whenever it's convenient, huh?!" he huffed, stepping down onto the solid ground at the end of the dock. "How shameless. Is this behavior acceptable for the children of Sokka, the great warrior of the Southern Water Tribe?!"

"Yeah!" Yuuna declared, shamelessly, as Shun laughed carelessly beside her. Sokka's eyebrow twitched.

"The fact that you're impossibly cute just… makes it so damn difficult to discipline you. Curse it," Sokka lamented himself, sighing and surrendering by dropping on his knees. "Azula! Make them behave themselves! I am hopeless!"

"What makes you think I'll do any better than you today?" Azula laughed, climbing down the ramp alongside Hotaru. "I have to save up my energies for arguing with my own brother, mind you…"

"And I have to save mine for my sister too," Sokka pouted. "No idea when Katara will get here, though, but still…"

"Aunt Katara!" Yuuna smiled, throwing her hands in the air: a light burst of water burst from the shore, accompanying her movement.

"Uncle Zuko is better!" Shun decided, grinning proudly. Immediately, Yuuna pouted and scowled at her brother.

"Aunt Katara!"

"Uncle Zuko!"

"Aunt Katara!"

"Uncle Zuko!"

Azula rolled her eyes over the pointless argument between the children, even if she did so affectionately, as Sokka rose to his feet again. Hotaru smiled awkwardly, stepping forward between her siblings.

"Now, now, no need to argue about that, you can both love Uncle Zuko and Aunt Katara, you don't need to pick either one…" her attempt to mediate, Azula suspected, wouldn't be all that successful, but the good-natured Hotaru had to try anyway.

"Uncle Zuko is in the house already, right, Mom?" asked Shun, beaming brightly before shooting Yuuna a mischievous smirk. "Race you there!"

"Oh! I'll win!"

"Hey, I didn't say you could get started yet…!"

Yuuna took off in a hurry and Shun wasted very little time following and catching up to her. As he was two years older than his little sister, his legs carried him forward much faster, no matter how short they both were.

"Hey! Slow down, you…! Oh, hell, who do they take after?" Sokka groaned, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head.

"Must be their uncle Zuko," Azula responded, matter-of-factly. Her husband smirked.

"And their aunt Katara," he agreed: both laughed at their devious shirking of any responsibility over the typical arguing between their youngest children. Hotaru smiled and shook her head as well, used to her parents' mischief, a much more contained form of mischief, yet still as entertaining as that of Shun and Yuuna.

As much as their youngest were as wild as ever, Sokka and Azula intended to enjoy this summer escapade as best they could, and that included basking in the mischief their children could weave. They walked the trail Yuuna and Shun had taken off on, with Hotaru in front of them, calling out at her siblings to be careful and sighing hopelessly upon realizing they weren't listening to her at all.

"Now, now, Hotaru… you're not responsible for your siblings' recklessness, we've told you so many times already," Azula said, and Hotaru smiled somewhat shyly at her. Sokka nodded sagely.

"Azula's right, as usual," he said. "Have fun and relax, kiddo. Your mom and I will prevent those two from setting the house on fire…"

"Or flooding it," Azula pointed out, at which Sokka grimaced.

"Zuko would lose his shit if they did, wouldn't he?"

"Now, don't say that or I'll actually want to see it happen…" Azula said, unable to convey her thoughts without breaking over a mischievous snort of laughter. Sokka gasped, though his outrage, as always, was a poor mask for his genuine amusement.

"Come on, now, Azula: play nice or it'll be obvious those two aren't taking after our siblings. Who're we going to fool if you keep laughing at that idea…?" Sokka scolded her playfully, leaning into her ear to speak through an awkward grin… fully aware, of course, that his laughing daughter could hear him, too.

"See why I have to keep tabs on them?" Hotaru laughed. Azula shrugged guiltily, and Sokka's attempt to play the straight-laced father crumbled into dust as he laughed against his wife's cheek. "If only I were half as good at it as Rei is, though… I wish she were here today."

"Hopefully she'll make her schedule work for it the next time," Azula said, with a fond smile. "There's a lot of people who should be here, really…"

"But they have to hold up the fort, right?" Hotaru asked. Azula nodded.

"We'll have to give them some downtime of their own, once we go back home," Azula said. Hotaru grinned and nodded.

"Maybe me, Shun and Yuuna could join them on their vacation too, while you and dad, uh…"

"Work?" Azula asked, amused. Hotaru blushed and shrugged.

"Guess that wouldn't be fair…"

"Oh, it'd be fine, totally fine," Sokka said, squeezing Azula's shoulder. "We'll just pretend we're working while they're gone, Azula, totally. Maybe we can redecorate everything in the silliest of ways, change everyone's belongings from room to room…"

"Well, that sounds hilarious, admittedly, and yet it's still too much work," Azula pointed out. Sokka huffed.

"Then we'll set up pranks! That should be more fun, even if it still takes some effort…"

"Now that does sound appealing…"

"Oh, Mom, Dad…!" Hotaru laughed, looking at them in disbelief as Sokka grinned shamelessly.

"Never underestimate your parents, Hotaru: we're dangerous in ways you cannot even begin to imagine!" Sokka said, menacing. Azula scoffed, shaking her head.

"She'll never believe that about her dork of a father, so you'll have to try a bit harder to sound convincing."

"Oh, but she'd believe it about you, then?" he asked, amused.

"Of course! I'm completely respectable, imposing. Everyone cowers when I amp up my authoritarian side…"

"Heh, I sure as heck don't cower before you."

"Because you lack common sense, obviously, but everyone who doesn't…"

"No, it's actually because, unlike everyone else, I can see right through every last bit of you…!"

"Hey, now. No naughty talk."

"Naughty why? I didn't mean that! Though, uh, now that you mention it…"

"Sokka!"

He laughed deviously again, though he knew better than to press their playful argument any further in that direction: while he and Azula weren't half as careful about their intimate time together as they definitely should be, it seemed they had safely preserved their children's innocence so far. Hotaru shot them a confused glance now, and Azula offered her a tight-lipped, guilty smile as the three of them continued walking in new silence: their eldest had yet to receive the famous 'talk', and Azula wasn't sure whether it was wise to continue putting it off or not. Hotaru stood on the verge of her teenage years as it was, and even if she hadn't developed much of an interest in anything to do with relationships, it was entirely possible her friends and acquaintances might talk about it far more often as she grew older. They'd have to do it sooner or later… but for now, Hotaru and her siblings were better off enjoying their childhood innocence as best as possible.

Yuuna and Shun had reached the building at last, but it was Shun who had climbed the steps faster and reached the front doors first. Yuuna pouted and stomped on the wooden floor in a typical childish tantrum, while her brother stuck his tongue out with a smug smirk.

"Got you!"

"No fair!"

"Gotta run faster next time," Shun shrugged carelessly, and Yuuna huffed, little fists tight: even at a distance, Sokka recognized the vengeful mood of his youngest daughter and rushed faster to the building to, hopefully, deflate the situation.

"Wow, wow, wow, you guys! We're all happy here, all friends, no need to give each other the stinkeye…!" he said, grinning awkwardly as he leapt over the steps that led to the front door. Yuuna huffed, folding her arms over her chest and turning away from Shun. "Oh, Yuuna…"

"I won, Dad!" Shun declared, proudly. Sokka grimaced.

"Yeah, and you're older and bigger than your little sister, so don't make fun of her or else, when she grows up too…"

"I will freeze your boogers!" Yuuna declared. Shun flinched, and Sokka snorted.

"Well, that's creative, but Yuuna, please don't do that," Sokka said: Shun instinctively covered his nose with his hands… then he huffed and lowered them again.

"Joke's on you, because I have no boogers today!" he said: drawing in a deep breath and enjoying the lack of friction between the air and his nose.

"Then I'll take out mine and…!"

"Yuuna…!" Sokka exclaimed, grimacing as he grasped his daughter's shoulders. The stubborn waterbender pouted at him – the hairdo she'd sported hours ago, a perfectly smooth top-knot, had already come undone and frizzed out in every possible direction. "You can beat your brother at something else later, I bet you can! But… wait, that's not even it! You shouldn't be beating him at anything, and he shouldn't beat you at anything either, because we're all family and we're all on the same side! Right, Azula?"

His wife had finally reached them, and to Shun and Yuuna's immediate horror, there was a humorless frown on their mother's face. They both winced, hands behind their backs, and Sokka raised an eyebrow upon realizing Azula had drawn her strongest hand already. Well, so be it…

"Aha. Looks like you're in trouble now, you two," he said to his youngest, with a proud smile. "So… what do we say when we do something out of bounds, or fight over silly things?"

"Sorry, Mom," the two kids chorused. Sokka's eyebrows twitched.

"W-what about me…?" he asked, softly.

Hotaru, behind him, snorted with poorly stifled amusement. Azula, however, stepped forward, still the pristine and perfect image of authority that often was the only thing that could get Shun and Yuuna in line whenever their sibling bickering seemed to reach dangerous heights.

"You are already aware of the terms and conditions for any arguments and conflicts that may arise in this family," Azula said, with her terrifying business voice. Her children winced, and even Sokka gazed at her warily upon hearing it. "Unless I expressly authorize you to resolve your conflicts by your own hand…"

"We must defer to Mom or Dad," Hotaru recited, smiling proudly. Azula nodded.

"Thank you, Hotaru. So… what do you have to say for yourselves?" she asked.

"Shun made fun of me because he won…" Yuuna pouted. Shun huffed.

"Yuuna tried to cheat!" Shun growled.

"If she tried to cheat and you still won, is that really a problem anymore, Shun?" Azula asked. Shun blinked blankly and lowered his gaze. "As for you, Yuuna… as tempting as it can be to pull tricks and pranks on others to get ahead, a victory gained through breaking rules will always be questioned. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mom…" Yuuna pouted still. Azula breathed deeply.

"If you have anything else to say, this is the time for it," she said, ceremoniously. Sokka smiled, watching as Shun and Yuuna squirmed in front of her.

"Shun… doesn't have any boogers," Yuuna pouted. Shun huffed.

"She said she'd freeze them if I did," he mumbled. "She shouldn't threaten me, right, Mom?"

"Indeed, and you shouldn't goad her into threatening you either," Azula said. Shun pouted but nodded. "If that is all, then it is time I say my piece: as we're all aware, we'll be dealing with actual rivals and enemies once we cross that house's threshold next. It's a whole different world in there than the one we know, dangers of the sort we can't even fathom: our family must stand together if we're to face these threats. If we play pranks, it's on our rivals! If we make fun of someone, it's not of our family, but theirs! If we threaten them…!"

"We shouldn't threaten them!" Sokka scoffed. Azula blinked blankly and tapped her chin.

"Yeah, I guess that wouldn't be acceptable under most circumstances, huh…?"

Her last playful statements had finally broken the very strange tension in the air: both Shun and Yuuna laughed together at their parents' banter, and Azula smirked at them both as they gazed at her with hopeful eyes.

"Either way, just behave yourselves, you two," Azula said, leaning down to pull them in for a hug, one in each arm. Yuuna and Shun let their mother reel them into her arms, comforted and eased immediately by her embrace. "We're here to have fun, after all. We can do that without fighting too much, can't we?"

"Yes, Mom," they said in unison. Azula smiled and pulled back, caressing their soft hair gently… though she focused more on Yuuna's head than Shun's.

"And what did you do to your hair tie this time…?" she asked, with a sigh. Yuuna grinned widely.

"The manatee-whale took it!"

"The manatee-whale…" Azula repeated… then she sighed and shook her head as Sokka laughed, stepping around them on his way to the door. "And why did it take it? It didn't have any hair to tie up, did it?"

"For his daughter!"

"Ah, that makes sense! So very generous of you to share with the manatee-whale! Guess it's a good thing I brought a spare hair tie, then!"

"No! Mommy, no!" the child laughed as Azula snarled playfully and reeled her into her arms.

"Not just one spare, actually: I have about ten, hidden in each bag we brought on this journey! So, no matter what happens, you won't escape from me!" she declared, causing Yuuna to laugh and squirm, reaching for Shun in hopes he'd help her out in this difficult ordeal.

"She's just going to take them off, Mom," Shun said, grinning complicitly at Yuuna, whose wild smile matched her brother's.

"No, no, no! This reckless hair must be tamed! I will accept no other answer!" Azula growled playfully: Yuuna's legs wiggled as Azula held her and, at last, Shun reached out to grab his sister's hands, as though to help her out of their mother's grasp. If her duty as a mother was to become the common enemy for her children to join forces against in order to teach them how to get along, Azula would be all too happy to fulfill it.

Sokka smiled fondly at the silly battle waged between Azula and the two kids: Hotaru stood by quietly, no doubt relieved her siblings had set aside their latest conflict as quickly as they had. Azula typically left the more light-hearted side of parenting to Sokka, who never failed to make fun of himself if that was how he'd make his children laugh and forget their grievances, but whenever her playful side came to light, Sokka's heart could only ache with intense, heartfelt love for the woman he'd married.

Still, they weren't here to play around at the front door: Sokka turned to the twin crimson-and-gold door and reached for one of the knockers… then he smirked and reached for the other one, too. With a mischievous smirk, he swung one forward, pulling the other back and starting a wild, knocking rhythm that immediately cut across Azula's silly spat with Yuuna.

"What…?! Sokka!" Azula scoffed, as he continued to slam the knockers into the door with unnecessary power. "Cut that out!"

"Sorry! What did you say? Can't hear you with how loud this is!" he called back, still slamming the door wildly.

Azula rolled her eyes, setting down Yuuna at last – allowing the child to bask in her victory, with her hair still wild and loose – before marching towards Sokka. The two younger kids laughed loudly at their father's antics, as they always did, while Hotaru covered her face with her hands, giggling into her palms: Azula grabbed Sokka's shoulder upon reaching him, forcing him to spin around and wind up facing her, directly. The guiltiest, yet proudest of grins graced his handsome face.

"Really, now? You just can't see any doors like these without doing that, can you?" she asked, with her eyebrows raised. Sokka let out a goofy laugh before shrugging. "You do realize Zuko fixed this door recently? I don't even know if it's the same one, but whether it is or not, you could've done serious damage…!"

"Eh, I would've paid for the damages if I had to, but this is too much fun not to do, Azula," he said.

"I wanna try it!" Yuuna squealed, rushing up at her father. Shun, tailing her grinned just as madly as his sister did.

"Me too!" he exclaimed, and Azula raised her eyebrows meaningfully at her guilty husband.

"Look at what you've done now. Look at it and regret it for as long as you may live," Azula said, in a dramatic, threatening voice that, naturally, Sokka only took as a joke: he laughed with abandon as his wife shook her head, smiling weakly… and her eyes fell upon her flustered oldest daughter, who stepped closer while eyeing them with light amusement, and with evident bashfulness. "We're all embarrassing Hotaru, see?"

"Oh, come on, Hotaru could never be embarrassed because of me. I'm the coolest dad there is," Sokka declared, proudly.

"Really, now?" Azula asked, smirking.

"Of course! I'd win every belching competition, that's cool as heck!"

Shun and Yuuna laughed harder after that, while Hotaru shook her head and gazed at Azula hopelessly. Azula smiled, reaching out to clasp her shoulder.

"The only one of us with a shred of common sense. What have we burdened you with, my poor child?" she said, reeling Hotaru in for a one-armed hug the girl accepted gladly.

"With laughing myself to tears, apparently," she admitted, hugging her mother back. "It'll be great to see everyone, but I'd never get bored even if it's just the five of us."

"That's great to hear! Means we can start a comedy troupe if we're ever short on money, Azula," Sokka declared, beaming. Azula snorted and shook her head, squeezing his forearm gently…

Just then, the front door swung inwards: the two younger children gasped in delight when a dark-haired girl, close to Hotaru's age, poked her head out the door with curiosity.

"Ah! Uncle Sokka, Aunt Azula!" she exclaimed after an instant, beaming. "I thought, w-well…!"

"That it was a battering ram? Yeah, well, that's what your uncle is like, as you already know," Azula answered: her niece couldn't help but laugh at her explanation regarding the wild knocking, as she pulled the doors fully open, welcoming them inside. "You look lovely, Zi."

"So do you, Aunt Azula!" the girl exclaimed, reaching to embrace her visiting relatives quickly: she started with Azula and moved to Sokka next.

"Look at you, little Zi! Though you're so tall by now that I'm not sure I'll be able to call you that forever," Sokka smiled, embracing his niece tightly. Zi chuckled as she pulled away.

"I doubt I'll ever be taller than you or my dad, though," she said, turning her gaze to her cousins next. "It's so good to see you guys!"

"Hi there, Zi," Hotaru smiled warmly, accepting her own embrace gladly.

"Hey! Hey! Is Uncle Zuko inside?!" Shun exclaimed, jumping excitedly in front of his cousin. Zi let go of Hotaru and smiled at him next, leaning in to hug him far more briefly than she'd hugged the others so far.

"Of course! He's working in the kitchen right now, and he'll be thrilled to know you've arrived!" she said. "He did say you'd likely be impossibly punctual, and he was right to say so."

"I would not stand for anything else. My family keeps its every appointment and sticks to schedule…" Azula declared in a playful, haughty tone. Sokka chuckled, as Zi moved to hug Yuuna next.

"I wonder if Zuko has a whole itinerary planned out for this week, actually…" Sokka said, stroking his stubble thoughtfully.

"It's likely he does. The real question is if it won't get derailed at some point through the week…" Azula pointed out, to her husband's amusement.

"You're so cute, Yuuna, adorable as always!" Zi said, beaming as she smoothed her youngest cousin's hair: Yuuna offered her a toothy grin, and Zi gasped in delight. "Look at that! You have so many teeth now!"

"They grow out! Like trees!" she declared, and Zi laughed at the comparison.

"Well, your smile definitely is the prettiest I've seen," she said, beaming as she rose to her feet… and turned to Hotaru, brimming with excitement. "Mari's been waiting for you, though! She said you have to join her at playing fire kuai ball! Come, come!"

"Oh, fire kuai ball? Uh, sure?!" Hotaru grimaced, glancing at her parents with uncertainty as Zi grabbed her wrist and yanked her inside the house.

Azula's placid mood froze over at that sudden shift in the conversation, and Sokka raised his eyebrows. It was Shun who spoke first, though, yanking at his mother's hand.

"What's 'fire kuai ball'?" he asked.

"Probably something I invented and patented…" she admitted, prompting Sokka to look at her questioningly – though with amusement. "Though I have no idea if that's what they're trying to do, and even if it is, I'm not sure they should be doing it at all. Hell, and here I thought our kids were the wild and crazy ones…"

"Well, just you wait: Mari's totally going to be crushed by Hotaru at this game, you'll see!" Sokka declared proudly, to his children's delight. "We should go in now though, shouldn't we? Bet Zuko will want to know who brought a battering ram on his perfectly refurbished door…?"

"And I bet the battering ram in question is so very pleased with himself over what he did, isn't he?" Azula said. Sokka only smirked proudly, prompting her to smile and bump his flank gently with her shoulder as they entered the house: Shun clung to Azula's hand, while Yuuna held onto Sokka's. "You're incorrigible."

"And you're beautiful."

"That's neither here nor there, but thank you."

"Huh, and here I thought we were just flinging compliments at each other."

"Incorrigible isn't meant to be a… oh, never mind, you're just happily proving it further," Azula finally surrendered, and Sokka grinned most proudly anew upon defeating her at their careless argument.

The inside of the house, Azula found, was simultaneously familiar and utterly unrecognizable: Zuko had supervised the work during his downtime, whenever his duties allowed him to visit the beautiful island. While Azula hadn't been completely sure of what to make of his determination to renovate their family's old, rundown villa initially, now she found herself smiling at the finished result: the polished wood on the floor, the luxurious carpets, the beautiful, new décor, replacing the old, sober – or perhaps, somber – paintings…

"So, what's the verdict?" Sokka asked her teasingly. Azula smiled and shrugged.

"Surprisingly good, I'd say. I'd thought there would be too many unpleasant memories in this place, but… if anything, it looks like it's ready to see new memories made in it, instead."

"Sounds ideal, then," Sokka grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "If you don't think it's bad, we can come here all the time, from now on! Not like Zuko can stop us anyway, he's not moving here permanently, after all…"

"He's not," Azula laughed. "But we do have enough things to deal with that I doubt we can have too many escapades to Ember Island, anyway."

"Do we have a playroom?" Yuuna asked. Sokka turned his smile to her.

"Pretty sure you'll have something bigger than that: there's a whole beach waiting for us to have the time of our lives in it! You can build sandcastles, you can bury your cousins in the sand…!"

"Swim all you want, sunbathe if you think you can handle the heat…" Azula continued, and Shun grinned brightly.

"And chase turtle-crabs too, if you dare," Sokka said, eyeing Yuuna meaningfully: the young girl gasped with excitement over the prospect of seeing hybrid animals she had never encountered before.

"Yes! Let's go now!" she said, pulling at her father's hand: Sokka laughed as Azula smiled too.

"We have to greet the rest of your uncle's family first, Yuuna. And we can take you all to play after everyone's here, alright? Shouldn't be long before everyone arrives," Azula said, gesturing at a long, open corridor ahead.

The kitchen was at the other end of the corridor, which ran along a large, beautiful stone courtyard with a functioning fountain at its center. Where it would have been, however, a beautiful location to admire in any other circumstances, it was difficult to focus on the architecture of the courtyard when it seemed to be the place where Mari's odd fire kuai ball game was being developed.

"Look, look!" Mari was telling Hotaru: she held a strange ball, crafted out of what appeared to be some form of metallic thread: there was a second ball within the first, made of flammable material, and the four newcomers happened to enter the corridor by the courtyard just in time to see Zuko's oldest daughter setting the inner ball on fire.

Hotaru gasped in amazement: Zi had clearly seen the trick before, and she giggled at her cousin's reaction. Their two younger siblings, Iroh and Kerra, had launched into full-blown celebration over the lighting of their ball, as Mari tossed it in the air and took to bouncing it off her body.

"Gotta see how long you can handle the heat before it's too much!"

"Oh, wow: they really are about as crazy as ours. Good to know," Sokka said, as Azula's jaw dropped.

"Mari! I told not to play that way: you could get hurt!"

Suki's voice seemed to thunder across the building: Yuuna, Shun and even Hotaru seemed to freeze upon hearing their aunt's fierce scolding… yet while Zi flinched, and Iroh grimaced, Kerra and Mari only seemed perfectly content to continue testing their mother's patience.

"Oh, relax, Mom! I've got this!" Mari laughed recklessly: Azula ran her fingers over her hair, watching the scene before her in utmost astonishment.

"Well, safe to say that's NOT the kind of fire kuai ball I would play, but…"

"What did you do, then?" Sokka smirked.

"Set a regular ball on fire, of course…"

"That's still crazy dangerous!"

"Oh, don't fret, I only did it to finish off the opposing team and nobody got hurt," Azula said, waving a hand dismissively at her disbelieving husband. "I mean, yes, they probably had to buy another net, and another ball, but still…"

"I love all the stories of your childhood dearly, you know that?" Sokka said, prompting Azula to laugh and shake her head. "A powerhouse since before you learned to walk and talk, as far as I can tell…"

The sounds of their conversation served to alert the two adults in the kitchen that their newly arriving guests – whom Zi had checked on – had been exactly who they had been expecting: Suki stepped outside the kitchen with a fearsome scowl, and it seemed that was far scarier than her earlier shout: Mari caught the ball and snuffed out the fire quickly, smiling awkwardly at her mother.

"I know, I know! I'll play the nice and boring way! It's okay!" Mari laughed nervously: Suki rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Play with your cousins and don't cause trouble with your wild firebending ideas, you hear me?" she said, shaking her head before glancing at Sokka and Azula, her stern scowl morphed into an apologetic grimace. "Goodness, I swear they're not trying to hurt your kids, I do…"

"We believe you," Sokka laughed, as he and Azula stepped forward to greet Suki.

"I suppose that's what we have to look forward to, in the future?" Azula smiled, casting a glance at Mari: the oldest among the children so far, she always seemed to take a role of leadership with her siblings and cousins, all of whom flocked to her naturally. "The teenage rebellion stage…?"

"Oh, Mari's been there from the moment she was born, as far as I can tell," Suki smiled, finally reaching her sister-in-law and offering her a warm embrace. "So good to see you both, Azula, Sokka."

"Same here!" Sokka grinned, hugging Suki next. "I'd compliment you and Zuko for all your work with this place, but I actually have no idea what it used to look like before…"

"Oh, you don't want to know," Suki laughed, shaking her head as she pulled away from him. "All manner of leaks in the roofs, weeds sprouting EVERYWHERE: it was madness. But, admittedly, the house was still less rebellious than Mari… I sure hope you two aren't causing your parents any trouble, Yuuna, Shun!"

They smiled guiltily and shook their heads: Suki shot them a knowing grin and rose to her full height after leaning down to address the children.

"I have the feeling you two have your hands full with these two as it is, though," she said. Azula laughed and shook her head, as Shun tugged at her hand.

"Can we go see the game too?" he asked, beaming. Azula let go of his hand and caressed his hair gently.

"Be careful," she warned him. "And don't be too competitive, alright? I know winning's fun and all…"

"But I should enjoy the game and not just focus on winning, yeah…" Shun sighed, marching off towards the others without another word: his nonchalance upon reciting those words suggested, quite strongly, that he had no intentions of abiding by them.

Unlike him, Yuuna didn't even wait or ask for permission to take off: she released Sokka's hand, yanking hers from out of his, and raced her brother – this time without even issuing the challenge verbally, though he took it up without needing her to do so – all the way to where the other children had been playing. Iroh, Zuko's only son, smiled brightly and ran up to Shun, while Yuuna and Kerra were quick to reach each other as well, the two youngest, and the most mischievous of the two sets of children – albeit sometimes it seemed Mari might outdo the two young, unexpected benders with her inventive, wild ideas.

"Zuko will probably be surprised to learn you're trying to teach Shun not to be so competitive…" Suki smiled. Azula sighed and shook her head.

"He and I are a lost case, everyone knows that," she said, with a shrug: Suki laughed at her direct, blunt delivery. "But if I can keep those two little rascals from being as prone to fighting each other as Zuko and I were, I'll certainly try… though they're quite adamant to become exactly like that, somedays."

"Oh, come on, now: you've literally come up with a thousand strategies to make them stop going after each other and redirect their energy to something more productive. You're doing great," Sokka smiled, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Literally, a thousand? No, it's only been about nine hundred, don't exaggerate…"

Suki laughed at their silly exchange, unsurprised to see the camaraderie between the two spouses only ever seemed stronger whenever she saw them again. Whatever they might worry about, the truth was that they, and their children, were one very happy family.

"Well, if you really have cooked up all those strategies, we could certainly use the advice: Kerra and Iroh are taking after you and Zuko a bit too much lately too…"

"Oh, of course," Azula sighed: Suki had turned to the kitchen again, and the two of them followed her. "It's like a curse in this family, isn't it?"

"Oh, come on now, Katara and I weren't much better," Sokka laughed: Azula offered him a worried grimace. "What, you think that makes it worse? You really think this sort of stuff is hereditary?"

"Two generations, four sets of siblings, boy and girl, only with a small age gap between them, all of them butting heads over ridiculous and genuine matters alike: do you really think there isn't a pattern here?" Azula asked. Sokka bit his lip and shrugged.

"Well… maybe we're all just prone to bonding through bickering."

"And through threatening to freeze each other's boogers in their nose, too…"

"Oh, spirits: Yuuna said that?" Suki gasped, once they reached the threshold of the kitchen. Azula smiled awkwardly.

"I'm pretty sure she must have found out they could be frozen the last time she caught a cold, and… well, you know how she is. Everything weird, everything unexpected, everything anyone else wouldn't think of, all of it is just second nature to her…"

"Sounds like she's the perfect blend of her parents to me."

Azula's smile gained a dangerous glint upon hearing her brother's voice, once they entered the kitchen: he smirked right back at her, hard at work with the meal he and Suki had been preparing for the first day of their week in Ember Island.

"Who was trying to tear down the door earlier? Bet it was Sokka," Zuko said, sharply: his brother-in law only smiled proudly.

"You're smarter than you look, after all!"

"And you're not," Zuko retorted, prompting Sokka to gasp in outrage as their wives laughed at their typical banter.

"Why, you…! Huh, that was a pretty solid exchange, Zuko: you should join us, then! Azula and I, we're totally going to start a comedy troupe to make some more money on the side, it was all Hotaru's idea…!"

"It was your idea, don't pin this madness on her," Azula said, smiling and shaking her head. "And besides, you said we'd do it if we were short on money, which we aren't, so…"

"Now, now, Azula, I know you need some convincing, but think about it! The audience will laugh plenty at our jabs at each other, but they'll laugh even more when Zuko takes everything seriously and plays the humorless guy to all our funny banter! It's perfect, just like it was right now, see?"

Azula smiled dryly before glancing at Suki.

"Just out of curiosity: where did you stash the lychee wine?"

"Azula!" Sokka gasped, as Suki chortled and laughed too: even Zuko was unable to hold back a chuckle at his sister's bold question. "You're the most ambitious person I know, how can you close your mind to the possibilities?!"

"You're impossible," Azula smiled, shaking her head and burying her face in her hands.

"Guess he's already practicing for the comedy act?" Suki smiled. Sokka huffed proudly.

"And I'll get lots of practice for the rest of the week, you betcha!"

"What have we signed on for?" Zuko groaned.

"Well, now, you did decide to invite us: you knew exactly what you were signing on for," Azula smirked, stepping forward. "Want help with any of this?"

"Woah. Can either of you be any help with cooking?" Zuko asked, puzzled, stopping on his motions while molding a rice ball.

"I don't see a top-of-the-line cook around here… guess you forgot to hire one," Azula said, gazing across the kitchen with a knowing grin. "Thus, I expect we'll have to work together to keep all our children stuffed with healthy food and taking enough naps so that we, in turn, can actually relax at some point or another in this trip…"

"Heh, well… you do have a point," Zuko smiled, shaking his head. "They're already a handful on their own, but putting all seven together… playing with fire is the simplest thing they would be likely to do."

"And they already did that on the first day of these vacations. Hell knows what else they're bound to do while we're not paying attention," Suki sighed, gazing wistfully at the courtyard from the kitchen's door.

The children seemed perfectly happy to meet again, for the first time in many months. As usual, the youngest four seemed to flock together as the older three did the same: Mari smiled as she handed Zi the ball before hugging Hotaru, who returned the embrace gladly.

"It's so good to see you!" Mari exclaimed. "Hope you've been doing well! Well, you and all of your family, of course…"

"Everything's okay," Hotaru confirmed, with a gentle smile. "Well, other than Yuuna and Shun butting heads all the time, but…"

"Oh, I say let them: same thing I say about Iroh and Kerra," Mari smirked: Zi sighed beside her and shook her head. "Maybe we should have the four of them in an all-out bending brawl! Don't you think that would be cool?"

"Why don't you ever have a perfectly peaceful idea…?" Zi asked her sister, with an awkward smile. Mari scoffed, taking the ball from Zi's hands.

"Because that wouldn't be as much fun! Come on, live a little, Zi!" she snickered, tossing the ball in the air and bumping it higher when it bounded on her head. "We should just practice for the real kuai ball games later, we're totally going to do some sort of family brawl after lunch, Hotaru!"

"We are?" Hotaru asked, puzzled. "But I've never played…"

"Oh, no need to worry! All you have to do is make sure the ball won't hit the ground!" Mari grinned, doing exactly that: she passed the ball to Hotaru, who caught it quickly. "Well, not by catching it, exactly…"

"You have to keep it rolling," Zi explained. Hotaru hummed, raising the ball gently and tossing it at her, "W-wait, not at me…!"

Zi raised her hands defensively, and the ball bounded in the wrong direction, falling on the ground.

"Zi! You shouldn't be such a scaredy-cat!" Mari laughed, grabbing her sister's shoulders. Zi pouted.

"I don't like that ball! It's cool for your tricks, but it hurts! Right, Hotaru?" Zi asked, looking at Hotaru's hands, hoping to confirm she, as well, had been hurt by the metal string that composed their ball. Hotaru, however, smiled awkwardly and shrugged.

"Must be because I hit it myself and nobody flung it at me… sorry," she said. Zi sighed, and Mari rolled her eyes.

"Oh, fine, then! We'll get the regular soft ball for now, but we're totally doing at least one round of fire kuai ball later by the beach, alright?!"

"But I'm not a firebender, I can't do that!" Zi grimaced: her sister smirked deviously as she turned to Hotaru again.

"Come, we have a normal ball upstairs! It's in our… oh wait! You guys don't have rooms yet, right? We should help you pick them!"

"Ah, we were talking about that earlier," Hotaru smiled. "How many rooms are there…? And how many people will come?"

"Dad invited lots of people, but one of them already said he can't make it. He can't travel down here from the Northern Water Tribe all that fast," Mari said, with a shrug. Hotaru raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Kat-Kat and Aang should be here, though… guess they might be running a little late."

"I think some of my mom's friends are coming too," Hotaru said, smiling a little.

"Then it really is a lot of people," Zi said, eyes wide.

"Do you think that means we'll have to share rooms?" Hotaru asked, glancing between both her cousins.

It surprised her to see that both Mari's golden eyes and Hotaru's violet ones would gleam brightly at that notion: the sisters exchanged a joyful smile before Mari clasped Hotaru's shoulders.

"You have to share with us!" she said.

"I wanna be with Hotaru!" Yuuna suddenly blurted out, running up to her sister and wrapping her arms around her leg.

"I gotta be there too," Kerra decided, stomping hard on the stone floor, and a light tremor shook the courtyard. Zi flinched.

"Hey, Kerra, Dad said no bending indoors, okay…?"

"This isn't indoors," Kerra said, smugly. "You can see the sky here!"

"It's still part of the house!" Zi grimaced, urgently.

"You don't even need to bend in protest at all, though: of course you can stay with us! We'll have a slumber party, all five of us!" Mari declared, proudly, and the other four girls smiled brightly at her.

"Yeah!" Kerra exclaimed: Yuuna danced happily in place, still clinging to her older sister's leg.

Naturally, the two boys in the courtyard couldn't join in on the enthusiasm of their siblings. Iroh pouted, glancing at Shun with uncertainty.

"Do you want to share rooms too…?" he asked. Shun shrugged.

"If you want," he replied, smiling. "Would be fun, I think…"

"Yeah!" Iroh responded, his mood immediately improved. "We should tell Dad, then…!"

"He should join us," Shun laughed, though Iroh smiled and shook his head.

"He'd bring Mom if he does, and then it wouldn't be a boys' room," Iroh said, yanking Shun to the kitchen area with him. "Come on, let's ask if it's okay…!"

"Sure! I haven't even said hi to him yet," Shun smiled, tagging along with his cousin as they made for the kitchen, where the four grown-ups had huddled up while the kids talked in the courtyard.

It seemed Sokka and Azula intended to help, yet Zuko and Suki had a tight system in process already, and most the work was well and truly done: Azula slapped Sokka's hand away from the finished tart pie intended for dessert, and he giggled guiltily at her when the kids stormed in.

"I'll be good, Azula, I'll be… oh, hey! Good to see you, Iroh!"

"Hi, Uncle Sokka," Iroh said, smiling reverentially at him: Shun's own admiration, however, was reserved for his own uncle, elbow deep into washing dishes in the sink.

"Ah, Shun," Zuko smiled upon catching sight of the young boy. "It's good to see you, kid."

"It's good to see you too, Uncle Zuko!" he exclaimed, smiling. "Iroh and I, we want to share rooms!"

"You… you do? Why?" Zuko asked, puzzled: his eyes shifted towards his son, who smiled and shrugged in his direction.

"The girls want to share, too," Iroh said. Zuko's eyebrow twitched.

"Which girls? All the girls?" he asked, puzzled. Iroh shrugged again. "Are they nuts? There's like twenty rooms now after all the expansion, and renovations…! And they just want to share?"

"Guess it's because it's a special occasion," Suki smiled at him. "Just remember what they were like back in the day, when Mari and Zi had to share a single room…"

"They were so thrilled to have rooms of their own when they finally did, and now they're all bunking up together?" Zuko sighed, shaking his head. "Well, I guess we'll have to think on how they could do it, not sure there's any rooms big enough for five beds. You two should be fine, though…"

"Yeah!" Shun grinned, throwing a triumphant fist in the air when Zuko addressed his final sentence at him and Iroh. "Thanks, Uncle Zuko!"

"Such a nice, obedient boy, so respectful with his uncle…" Sokka recited with a small voice, a skeptical smile on his face. Azula smirked, nudging him with her elbow.

"You love to make a fool of yourself for his amusement, don't pretend otherwise now," she said softly: Sokka could only laugh guiltily at her assessment.

The knocking sound by the front door resounded in the large house once more, though it wasn't quite as wild and reckless as Sokka's previous knocking. Zuko glanced at him meaningfully, gesturing in the door's direction with his chin.

"Heard that? That's how normal people do it."

"Boring people, you mean," Sokka declared, proudly. Azula laughed and shook her head, reminded of Hotaru's previous claim that she'd never be bored with their family.

"I guess someone else is here, though…?" Suki said, fiddling with her apron's fastening to take it off.

"Or it could be our ship's sailors bringing our luggage, heh…" Azula smiled awkwardly. "We can check on the door if you want, you guys should stay here."

"You would? Oh, thank you," Suki smiled: she stopped attempting to unfasten the apron, only to struggle fastening it in place all over again, an awkward smile on her face.

"Heh, sure thing," Sokka smiled as Azula pulled him with her through the door. "Oi, Shun! Don't cause any trouble for your aunt and uncle, alright?"

"I won't!" Shun stated, proudly: his eagerness to gain Zuko's approval seemed to ensure he'd stay on his very best behavior, so both Azula and Sokka could trust he'd obey whatever orders Zuko might give him.

Once again, Sokka and Azula walked hand in hand, with Sokka swinging their arms carelessly: his wife smiled fondly at him, slipping her fingers between his as they marched to the door, the sounds of their daughters' upbeat conversation with their cousins following them all the way across the corridor.

"It does seem to be a much nicer place than it ever was," Azula admitted, smiling as she gazed about herself. "Though I am curious about these expansions Zuko did. This place should have been big enough for at least our two families, though with however many guests we might have, I wonder if it will be big enough, in the end…"

"Well, with the kids being so eager to share rooms, I don't think we'll have to worry about having proper privacy at night, huh?" Sokka said, smirking at her and wiggling his eyebrows. Azula smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

"Is that the main thing you're thinking about, really?"

"Well, it's always at the top of my priorities, if you must know…"

"How utterly shameless of you," Azula said, playfully. Sokka sighed and shook his head in fake penance. "And here I thought it was at the very top of them, at all times…"

"Ah, I disappoint, then?" he asked, amused. Azula laughed and yanked him close, pecking his lips quickly before they finally reached the door anew.

"As if you could ever let me down," she said, offering him a much more earnest answer than Sokka had expected. He smiled warmly at her as Azula pushed open the door they'd closed earlier… to find, as predicted, the sailors with all their belongings. "Ah, I'm sorry the door was closed…"

"Oh, no matter!" said the sailor in charge, smiling broadly at her. "We've brought everything as requested! We'll be taking off now, and we'll return in a week, as agreed?"

"Please do," Azula nodded graciously.

"Another ferry's coming in now, too," said another sailor, already picking up his bags. "We're going to try to get out before they dock in, give 'em more room to maneuver."

"A good call," Sokka smiled, stepping among them and hoisting some of the bags himself. "I'll give you a hand, then, we should be done faster this way."

Azula relinquished her hold on Sokka's hand most unwillingly, despite knowing his help would certainly speed up this process. She watched and directed the sailors, ensuring they stashed the bags inside without obstructing either the way upstairs or the corridors that led deeper into the first floor of the large building. Within five minutes, everything had been set down on the vestibule's corner and the sailors had returned to their manatee-whale-led ferry: Azula and Sokka watched them from the front door, with Sokka waving in the sailors' direction. Azula cocked her head to the side, studying the creatures as they turned around and took the ferry into the sea again.

"Looking for Yuuna's hair tie, even now?" Sokka asked, amused.

"Just wondering where it's keeping it, you know? Since it has to bring it back to its daughter and all…" Azula said, smiling and shaking her head. Sokka laughed, reeling her in for another hug.

"The other ship's over there, though," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Think it's the last one to arrive?"

"Possibly. I think the other guests would come here with your sister and Aang," Azula said: her arms snaked around Sokka's waist, and she pressed a kiss to his bare skin, left exposed by his sleeveless, wide-necked shirt.

"Well, now…" Sokka smiled, looking at her with a devious smirk "I know we're alone for the first time in what feels like forever, but are you really looking to have some fun right now?"

"Are you opposed to it?" Azula asked innocently, her eyelashes fluttering exaggeratedly, bringing Sokka to laugh as he cradled her face in his hands.

"You could ask me to conquer the world with you and I'd just ask when do we start, Princess," he said: Azula's eyes narrowed at his familiar taunt, but his lips were on hers before she could rebuff it.

Which, come to think of it, was exactly what she'd wanted, so, as much as the urge to retaliate had surged, she set it aside quickly enough, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting him pin her to the frame of the open door as his tongue slithered past their lips, seeking hers.

It wasn't as though they never were free to act on their passion, their three kids would always fall asleep soundly, so the depths of night were always theirs for the taking. Yet the more they worked together to ensure their children grew up as healthy and happy as possible, the more their mutual passion would surge and rise… and the less chances they'd have to let it unwind, as even in their downtime they had to deal with Shun's typical complaints whenever their parents were far too affectionate in his presence. Their respective duties also kept them too busy on most days, so unless they took a break casually at the exact same time, they'd seldom be free to kiss at will, to hold each other, even to make love wherever it suited them… though they certainly didn't intend to go that far right now. This was just a quick release of joyful passion, that was all it was…

Or all it should be, anyway.

"We… have to keep our heads level, now…" Azula managed to say, between frantic kisses she pressed upon Sokka's face. He laughed at her request, as his hands carelessly traveled over her light outfit – she didn't expose much skin yet, but she'd likely change into a bathing suit later and… oh, the mere thought made his heart race wildly.

"Kinda tricky… you're making it tricky," he chuckled, kissing her voraciously again. Azula moaned heartily, embracing him tightly.

"My fault? It's totally… not my fault…" she whimpered: her hands slipped down his back, to his rear, squeezing it gently…

Sokka groaned in a throaty way, and Azula leaned into his ravenous devouring of her neck, head thrown back, a blissful smile across her features: her eyes opened, though, and she noticed, with remorse, that the next guests were just docking in.

"They're going to catch us doing this… and then they'll never stop teasing us for it, right?" she sighed remorsefully. Sokka hummed, raising his head: his face was covered in her shade of lipstick, and Azula laughed as she took notice of it. "Well, even if we stop now, this makes matters obvious enough, doesn't it?"

"So, why stop at all?" Sokka asked, with a mischievous smirk. "Why should we hide from anyone anymore, Princess?"

"Keep that up, Sokka, and you're really going to get it…"

"Am I?" he smirked. Azula laughed, pulling him closer: her golden eyes bore into his, but her desire was abloom, much as his own was, goading them both into succumbing further into their passion.

"You asked for it, then: come and get it," she hissed, her lips hovering a breath away from his: he cut the distance in an instant, following fit with her challenge.

Finding them in the midst of such heated exchanges was no surprise for most the newcomers, though it was fortunate that the youngest people in the group had lagged behind: Haru laughed at the shameless display of their friends while Ty Lee hooted in the distance.

"You guys sure are in the mood to party! This vacation's going to be a blast!"

The sound of her voice broke off their wildest kiss yet, though Azula groaned as she broke off the contact most unwillingly. Sokka chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead one more time:

"We'll continue later, don't you worry," he said. Azula smiled, raising a hand to wipe off the many stains of lipstick on Sokka's face.

"I'm not worried at all. Just looking forward to it, as I always am," she said. Sokka grinned, venturing one more devious kiss to her lips before turning to greet their friends.

"Hey, guys! Been a while since… WOAH!"

Sokka was always one for exaggerated reactions, Azula knew as much… but when she turned her head to the side, she was tempted to let out an exclamation as loud as his:

Ty Lee, clinging to Haru's arm with the most enthusiastic grin possible, sported a prominent pregnancy belly, starkly noticeable, as she was already clad in her beach attire, unlike most everyone who intended to change after lunch.

"Are you… are you for real?!" Azula gasped, looking at Ty Lee in amazed disbelief. Her friend giggled guiltily, leaning into Haru, who smiled widely at their friends.

"Remember that the last time we met she'd had some strange cramps, and food didn't seem all that tasty to her…?" Haru said, with an innocently soft voice.

"I told you. Oh, I told you what it was, Mai told you what it was, and you didn't listen!" Azula laughed, stepping forward as Ty Lee squealed, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Azula once her friend reached her.

"Okay, okay, I know I should've had it checked out, you guys said so, but then I didn't, and I thought I was just sick and then I started to put on weight, and…! Well, here we are. I can't believe we're joining your group now," Ty Lee sighed, with a wistful smile. "I so enjoyed being the free-spirited, childless aunt…"

"Well, you enjoyed it because you loved the children in question, and you're going to love this one too," Sokka smiled, stepping up to hug her too. "Congratulations, you guys!"

"Thank you," Ty Lee said, with a high-pitched voice. "Oh, I really don't know if I'm excited or horrified, even now…"

"How far along are you?" Azula asked: Haru and Sokka had shaken hands by now – or forearms, rather ���, and the earthbender stepped forward next to hug the royal.

"About four or five months, it seems… oh, it's been a whirlwind, but I'll wrap my head around it eventually, I will," Ty Lee said, with a sincere laugh.

Azula smiled fondly as Haru stepped back anew, placing a loving hand on his wife's belly. It was no secret Haru was open to having children, but he had never pressured Ty Lee on the matter. They had been married for a fairly long time, with a rhythm of their own, and it didn't seem likely that they'd try to have children… but Azula highly doubted they'd tried this time, either. This was, in all likelihood, the consequence of a short period of carelessness, and while it seemed Ty Lee might be deeply uncertain of how to raise a child, she'd have more than enough people to offer her plenty of support and help when she needed it.

The person with the most experience on the subject had hiked up the road after Ty Lee, followed by her own husband and her two sons: it was hard to believe Yuudai was already a proper teenager, yet time hadn't passed them by in vain. The young man looked much like his father had, back when Azula, Mai and Ty Lee had first met him in Ember Island: Ruon Jian no longer sported the same luxuriously stylish hair from his youth, but it seemed his son had taken after him fairly well in that department.

Their second child, however, was the odd-one out in a family as restrained, proper and ideal as Mai and Ruon Jian's was: Renshu was a chubby boy of Shun's age, with short brown hair and large eyes. His main similarity with his mother was the blank, unreadable expression on his face. But where Mai always seemed to be observing her surroundings, judging situations and weighing her choices with perfectly subtlety, Renshu simply watched for the sake of it, and was perfectly happy to convey his thoughts with absolutely no restraint or consideration of the circumstances. Out of so many chaotic children in the villa right now, Renshu was a particularly odd one, yet he seemed perfectly content exactly as he was.

"You seem very surprised, all things considered, Azula…" Mai pointed out, with a smirk, upon reaching the front door. "Here I thought you'd just laugh in Ty Lee's face for not listening to either of us."

"Maybe I still will, though probably after we have a couple of drinks," Azula smiled. Ty Lee pouted at those words. "Uh… yeah, we'll drink your share, too."

"That's the part that sucks the most about being pregnant. Got to forsake so many fun things…" Ty Lee sighed. Haru chuckled and shook his head.

"You'll go all out with everything again right after this is over, okay?" he said. Ty Lee grinned and nodded.

The new arrivals greeted each other gladly, and many friendly hugs were exchanged. Sokka compared Yuudai's height with his own, finding he already reached the level of his shoulder, and the shy but proud teenager smiled for it.

"Dad thinks I might outgrow him, but I don't know…" he chuckled. Sokka patted his shoulder firmly.

"Keep on eating the right way, and having a healthy life, and you might do just that!" he told him: Yuudai smiled and nodded proudly…

And then a small hand reached out to tug at Sokka's trousers.

Renshu's clear amber eyes met his mere instants before the boy blurted out:

"How many rooms are there in this house?"

Sokka blinked blankly before crouching down and smiling awkwardly.

"Not entirely sure, but probably about twenty? I guess?" Sokka said. Renshu cocked his head sideways.

"There are fifty-seven in the Palace," Renshu said, matter-of-factly. "That I know of. Maybe there are secret rooms that I don't know of. Do you know if there are hidden rooms here?"

"Not particularly. Looking to build one, are you?" Sokka asked, amused. Renshu shook his head.

"I don't have a shovel," he said. Sokka heaved out a disappointed breath, punching the air before him.

"Well, damn. I bet there's some sand shovels in the house, but they're probably not good enough to build a big secret room, sorry to say."

"I don't need to build one. I was just curious," Renshu said, bluntly and simply. He still didn't show any sign of amusement, remaining as inexpressive as ever. Sokka smiled and patted his head.

"Well, good then. Keep being curious, I guess…?"

"I would say 'don't encourage him' but I doubt it'll make a difference," Mai sighed, leaning down near Renshu. "Did you greet your Aunt Azula and Uncle Sokka properly?"

"No," he said, simply. Mai's eyebrow twitched.

"Didn't I ask you to do so earlier?"

"You did. But I didn't do it," Renshu responded, matter-of-factly, as always. Sokka couldn't hold back a chortle as the boy turned his attention to Azula next. "Is Shun here?"

"He's inside, yes. In the kitchen, the last I knew…" Azula said. Renshu glanced at his mother.

"I will go see Shun," he declared: without even waiting for Mai to give him permission to do so, Renshu slipped between Azula and Sokka and entered the house, as though he knew it by heart despite it was his first visit.

"I… want to get mad. I do. I want to discipline him, so he actually learns to greet people the right way, at least," Mai said, eyebrow still twitching. "But… I just can't do it. He just asks me why he has to do the things I ask him to, and it's exactly what crossed my mind when I was his age, and then I end up with an existential crisis while he goes back to drawing on the walls, or whatever he's up to…"

"Well, fortunately Yuuna's easier to reel into control than that," Azula smiled awkwardly. "Though she has a knack for questioning things very similarly."

"I think he sees her as a kindred spirit because of that, actually," Ruon Jian laughed. "He says he spends more time with Shun because Yuuna doesn't like him, though."

"What, really?" Sokka's eyes widened. Azula smiled awkwardly.

"Bet she told him so, blunt and clear, to his face," she said, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.

"And Renshu apparently wasn't bothered by it one bit," Ruon Jian laughed. "But I guess I'll keep an eye on him as best I can, so he doesn't end up angering her somehow…"

"A wise call," Azula smiled, gesturing at the house. "Well, now, you have more people to greet inside, right? And Ty Lee probably ought to sit down, or maybe go to the bathroom…"

"Joke around all you want, I do have to go…" Ty Lee whimpered: Haru wrapped his arms around her and ferried her inside, only slowing down to ask Azula for directions to the nearest bathroom.

The house had been empty for years, vacant of all brightness and enthusiasm… but Azula, who had seen it in its previous glory, was sure it had never been quite as bright and beautiful as it was now. The chatter of cheerful voices, the laughter, the sounds of children playing… back in the day, it had been her, Zuko and their parents, with a handful of servants to provide for them. Today, it was a gathering of friends and family, of many people she valued dearly, and her heart could barely keep up with the delightful feelings this new atmosphere elicited inside her.

Countless greetings were exchanged, so many it was hard to keep up with them: upon poking their heads in the kitchen again, Azula and Sokka were delightfully amused to find Zuko had the three young boys, Iroh, Renshu and Shun, working together making rice balls with unusual discipline and determination, while most the girls had taken to practicing bouncing the kuai ball between themselves – they were deliberately lighter on Yuuna and Kerra, but the two spirited young girls would strike the ball as powerfully as their arms and legs allowed them to, anyway.

Merely ten minutes before the meal was finished and served, the last arrival finally flew in through the stone courtyard itself, causing the girls to stop playing and start cheering at the sight of the massive sky bison. Appa roared a greeting at the whole group, and Aang waved at everyone, as spirited as ever, beaming while Katara nestled comfortably on the saddle – she held the twins in her arms, each one glancing outside the saddle from over their mother's shoulders.

"Hey, guys!" Aang grinned: Mari rushed towards him quickly, though she leapt to hug Appa's horn first.

"Appa! It's been forever since we last met!" she exclaimed, dramatically. Aang, of course, laughed at her emotional greeting.

"We literally visited you guys a month ago!" he said. Mari stuck her tongue out at him, unable to stifle a grin.

"That feels like forever to me!" she declared: Aang airbent himself off his seat on Appa's neck before hugging the young firebender.

"You're still as feisty and fun as ever, aren't you? Hope you're keeping your dad on his toes still!" he grinned. Mari smiled broadly and nodded. "Great!"

"If this were about anyone else, I'd tell you not to encourage her… but yeah, keep messing with your silly dad, Mari," Katara laughed from the saddle.

Aang smiled and stepped closer to the bison's body, creating small gusts of air with which he brought the two toddlers down to his level. Katara was free to climb safely by herself then, leaving it to Aang to hold their children, and his smile couldn't have been brighter as he regarded the sizable crowd around them.

"Hey, everyone!" he exclaimed: Katara stepped forward, greeting each child happily, smiling at the cluster of people who remained inside the house's corridor. "Hope we're not too late for lunch!"

"Just on time, if anything!" Sokka called back, grinning at them and waving. "Hope the journey was okay for your little clouds!"

The children in question, mostly identical, glanced at Sokka from a distance: he couldn't quite tell apart Tashi, the boy, from Tallah, the girl, while they were so far away. As much as Aang had a duty to see to the recovery of the Air Nomads, he and Katara had taken their time before starting their own family: as ready as they had hoped to be, however, Katara had been taken by surprise upon sensing two new heartbeats inside her, two sources of new chi, rather than one. Their two babies weren't as much trouble as many others could be… at least, so far. Tashi did have a penchant for crying for attention, but he was easily soothed by either of his parents.

Katara greeted Sokka with a tight hug, as ever, once she reached him. Sokka squeezed her tightly, causing Katara to protest by smacking his arm gently.

"I know, I know, nobody likes an annoying older brother," Sokka grinned shamelessly, to his sister's amusement.

"Well, I do know someone who likes my annoying older brother, somehow," Katara smirked teasingly, turning her attention to Azula: she sighed dramatically, with a leisurely shrug.

"What can I say? A goofball like him has his charms," she said: Sokka snickered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively in her direction, and Azula laughed as Katara stepped forward to embrace her too.

"Well, being a nasty younger sister usually makes you immune to those charms, as you well know," Katara laughed. Azula nodded sagely.

"Indeed, someone likes my annoying older brother too. Utterly inexplicable," she rebuffed playfully as Katara pulled away, smiling. "How are you faring? The twins still keeping you up at night?"

"Oh, yeah," Katara grimaced, though she smiled soon enough again. "They're adorable, of course, but I can't remember the last time I got any sleep."

"And you won't remember it anytime soon, guaranteed," Sokka declared, at which Katara only sighed in defeat.

"This just makes me feel bad about our parents. Were we all this much trouble all along, really?" Katara asked. Sokka offered her a tight-lipped smile and a nod.

"Probably worse, even," he determined. Katara shook her head, laughing as she covered her face with her hands.

"Then the next time I see Dad I'm going to apologize for all the hardships I gave him… as should you, Sokka," she said: he scoffed, waving a hand in her direction.

"You're still trying to win more points with him, after all these years…? I'm onto you, see? I'm so onto you," he said, making a gesture with his hand to ensure Katara knew he was watching her. The waterbender rolled her eyes, glancing at her sister-in-law in disbelief.

"Those are the charms you fell for, huh?"

"Irresistible like no one else I've ever known," Azula said, gesturing at Sokka dramatically: by then, Sokka's playfulness broke at last with laughter, and his wife and sister followed him into it shortly.

The playful banter would have continued on, even if Sokka's goofier side seemed to have receded slightly by then: Katara was just explaining Toph had been unable to join them, for she was too busy these days – she had claimed she needed to know about this big vacation six months in advance to find any room in her schedule for it –, when Suki's voice echoed through the courtyard, calling their many guests for lunch at last.

Once again, Azula was reminded of how much emptier the house used to be once everyone gathered at the large dining room to enjoy the meal: in the past, she, Zuko and her parents had eaten in that same room, and while those days had been far less unpleasant than the many years that followed, Azula had only realized how large the room truly was, and how empty it had felt, now that it was anything but: everyone crowded boisterously around the long table, the smaller children propped up on many cushions so they could reach their plates without much struggle. Dishes would be passed from one end of the table to the other, laughter bounced on every wall and smiles seemed to decorate every face… unless they were busy eating, of course.

Azula and Sokka made sure to help Yuuna with her meal, ensuring she took small bites rather than chomping down on everything on her plate, as she intended to. Then, Azula also had to reel in Sokka by dropping a fair share of vegetables on his meat-exclusive plate – he had done it to mess with her, she knew, but her retaliation saw them bickering playfully, picking each other's meal while Yuuna, sitting between them, watched their apparent fight with absolute delight. Hotaru and Shun, at the other side of the table, could only laugh between bites of their own, though they were easily distracted by their cousins and friends, too.

Once the food was almost fully spent and everyone was satisfied, however, Mari leapt to her feet, with a wicked smile on her face.

"And where are you going?" Zuko asked, following his oldest daughter with his gaze.

"To the beach!" she responded gladly: she didn't wait for her father to finish his next sentence before sprinting through the corridors, headed to her chosen room.

"You have to wait at least ten minutes after you…! Ugh, she's unreal," Zuko sighed, shaking his head. Suki smiled and squeezed his hand.

"With how long it ought to take us all to get ready, it should take her longer than ten minutes to get into the water. Hopefully our reckless girl will be fine, Zuko" she told him. He smiled back, though the sight of Kerra rushing off after her sister didn't reassure him much.

"Our reckless girls, you'll mean… plural," he raised his eyebrow, and Suki laughed and nodded.

"You did plenty of hard work as it is, dear. Don't fret much more than you already have. Your big meal was a success, your plans for the vacation have worked wonders… we're doing great."

"We are… but I'm exhausted, and it's only just started," he admitted, with a weak grin.

"Well, maybe we all can take turns cooking!" Aang suggested, surprising Zuko. "You know, each family can have a turn or so? How about it?"

"Huh… that sounds like a plan," Zuko smiled, glancing at the rest of the group… though his eyes slowed at Azula and Sokka, and his grin soured. "Though someone will have to be there for backup when it's their turn, huh?"

"Oh, they might just wind up doing something other than cooking if left alone in the kitchen," Ty Lee snickered, a hand over her mouth as though to block her words from being heard by the happily bickering couple. "We were on our way up the path to the house, you know, and those two? They were seriously DEVOURING each other against the door, just like that…!"

"Alright, you've convinced me: anyone can cook… except those two," Zuko decided, prompting those sitting near him to laugh at his decision.

He wasn't completely uncomfortable these days over his sister's blatant displays of affection with her husband, but he certainly didn't want to witness them at their most romantic… or their most passionate. Yet it was exactly what Zuko had unintentionally signed on for upon inviting them to his freshly refurbished beach house: even if Azula and Sokka had their kids to look after and think of, it didn't seem anyone could pry either of them off each other. They went everywhere together, either holding hands or embracing each other's waist, even as they checked on the rooms Zuko and Suki had assigned for them and their children. They carried the family's luggage upstairs with their children's help – Hotaru assisted them far more than the other two, who had to settle for either carrying smaller bags or carrying large ones together, which turned out to be a rather catastrophic choice since both wanted to outrun the other, again, even while making their way over a flight of stairs. In the end, though, once everyone's goods were properly distributed in their rooms, it was time to get ready for what the children looked forward to the most:

"Be careful when you go out to swim, alright?" Sokka told Yuuna, after Azula helped the child change into her one-piece swimsuit. "Remember what I've taught you… and try not to bend too much while you're there, don't freeze people even if they annoy you, all our usual rules…"

"Can Aunt Katara bend on the beach…?" Yuuna asked, raising an eyebrow. Sokka grimaced.

"Yeah, well, she's all grown-up so if she wants to do it, I can't stop her. I've tried to stop her from bending in awkward situations since I was littler than you are, right now, and she never pays me any attention," Sokka said, with a resigned sigh. "But that's neither here nor there… you are a good girl, right? So, you'll be good and do as you're told. Okay?"

"No!" Yuuna grinned: she ran out the door, hands in the air, laughing carelessly on her way downstairs again.

Her father, of course, was left frozen on the spot, an eyebrow twitching. Azula behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders before slipping them around his neck, offering him a gentle hug.

"We'll make sure nothing happens. Don't fret," she said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Sometimes I think we're the best parents ever, and then sometimes I wonder if we're getting everything wrong," Sokka confessed, glancing at her from his kneeling position, where Yuuna had left him. Azula leaned over him, smiling warmly.

"Well, you told me that your father said to you that there was more worth in growth than in perfection, right?" Azula asked, pressing her lips to his brow. "True wisdom right there. We may never be the perfect parents, but…"

"But we'll grow along with our kids and do it better every time?" Sokka finished. Azula nodded proudly, and Sokka grinned, leaning in to kiss her, no matter how awkward their position might be. "I love you, Azula."

"And I love you, Sokka… though I wish we could love each other quite a bit more freely than we can, right now," she said, with a lop-sided smile. "We have to change too, and, well…"

"We can't afford to do anything naughty because our kids might just freeze the beach while we're not paying attention?" Sokka asked, with a sad smile of his own. Azula laughed and nodded, helping him stand up.

"We'll have to save it for later, I suppose. If we still have any energy by then, that is," she pointed out. Sokka cupped her face between his hands, kissing her lips softly.

"I'll make sure to save my very best just for you and our nice and cozy little room," Sokka said, smirking deviously. "Though I guess, if the kids aren't much trouble, we can at least indulge in, well, enjoying each other's scenery, if nothing else?"

"Don't we always?" Azula smiled, pinching his asscheek and guiding him towards their room, out of Yuuna's shared one with Hotaru, by the two girls' design. It was entirely possible they'd go forward with Mari's wild plans for a sleepover in her large room, but their two daughters would keep their belongings here, at the very least.

While knowing they had very little time for privacy, Sokka and Azula still locked their room's door, helping each other into their respective swimsuits while trading no end of mischievous kisses and caresses. It seemed impossible that the two of them would truly make their way to the beach instead of surrendering to their urges, but against their instincts and impulses, they finally made up their minds, gathered their beach bags and ventured out of the house, hand in hand… or hand-on-rear, when they decided to tease each other, halfway down the beach.

The children were already playing loudly by the sand: Kerra, in particular, seemed thrilled to fling bursts of sand at her brother, while Yuuna splashed by the shore, laughing with her cousin at Iroh and Shun's protests over how their two younger siblings had joined forces against them. Hotaru and Zi stood with Mari, as usual, though her mischievous streak had been interrupted, it seemed, by Yuudai: the taller teenager stood with the three girls, talking animatedly despite it was quite clear, even at a distance, that the one who did the most talking was Mari, who frequently smiled, unusually bashfully, at Yuudai.

"Hmm… that's either Zuko's worst nightmare or his dream combination, isn't it?" Sokka asked Azula, as they walked together down the sand. "He did love Yuudai quite a bit, but…"

"He couldn't be more protective of his kids if he tried? Yeah," Azula agreed, nodding. "Well, they're all kids anyway. I say let them have their fun, as long as they don't get hurt or do anything all that stupid… though of course, if it's Hotaru who's involved in something stupid I'm definitely going to stop being as calm and collected, but she's not likely to be…"

"Mari's a wild one, but I hope both Zi and Hotaru can restrain her, to a fault," Sokka smiled. He and Azula had finally reached the playing grounds, and he raised a hand, placing it by his cheek in order to call for his children. "Yuuna! Shun! Hotaru! Did you put on your sunscreen before you ran out to play?!"

The three kids, each busy with their own groups, flinched and filed towards their parents, guilty grimaces on all their faces. Azula couldn't muffle a smile as they approached, beelining towards Sokka.

"Sorry, Dad…" Shun mumbled. Sokka harrumphed dramatically, setting down his bag and pulling out the sunscreen.

"Alright, those of you brave enough to try doing it yourselves, put out your hands!" Sokka said. Shun and Hotaru both did, while Yuuna showed plenty of sense, surprisingly, by not following suit with their example. "Oh, really, now? You're ready to apply your own sunscreen, Shun?"

"Yeah, I am!" he decided, beaming brightly. Sokka scoffed.

"Well, then, let's see how it goes," he said: he opened the flask with their best sunscreen lotion, pouring a small amount upon each extended hand… and upon Azula's too, as she leaned down right in front of Yuuna, ready to cover her body with it. The little girl raised her head proudly, eyes tightly closed as her mother ensured to cover every exposed bit of her daughter's body until the sunscreen blended perfectly with her skin.

Hotaru only missed a few bits, and Sokka instructed her about which ones, so she could cover everything properly too. Shun, however…

"You… think that's okay?" Sokka asked, with an awkward grin. Shun pouted.

"Well, I didn't get it wrong, did I…?" he asked.

"You have handprints all over your arms, your face is all covered in lotion, your back is mostly exposed…?" Sokka pointed out, rounding the little boy. Shun winced, cheeks reddening. "See? You're already getting sunburnt!"

"I'm not!" Shun cried out, the intensity of his blush strengthening, to Sokka's amusement.

"Come on, I'll handle your back. Spread the bits on your face more evenly, down to your neck too…"

Shun obeyed without much protest, still flustered: Azula smiled at him, and the boy withdrew his gaze from hers.

"Come on, Shun… no need to be so embarrassed," Azula said, reaching out to caress his long hair gently. "Is it you don't want your cousins to think you're being babied or something?"

"I-…! T-that's…! W-well…!" Shun couldn't seem to gather his thoughts, let alone when his mother laughed softly.

"Don't worry about it: look at them, they're an even bigger mess than we are," Azula said, smirking before gesturing at her brother's family.

Zuko and Suki had only just arrived too, and Suki had rushed to collect Kerra, who insisted she didn't need any sunscreen whatsoever: Zi apparently had applied hers all the way back in the house, and Mari kept claiming she had done the same thing, but Suki seemed to believe otherwise – Azula immediately suspected Mari had no interest in letting Yuudai see her applying sunscreen awkwardly, going by how disheartened she had been when the older boy had stepped away from their group, rallying with his family underneath an umbrella: Mai would never visit a beach without guaranteeing she'd have some form of shade, after all.

"Me next! Me, Mom!" Iroh called out as Suki covered a groaning Kerra with sunscreen.

"Yes, yes, you're next, Iroh…"

"I already applied it, Dad, you don't have to make me do it again, do you?"

"Well, if you already did it, a second coating can only do you good…!"

"Dad!"

Although his previous concerns had weighed heavily on Shun's mind, he now had no choice but to laugh at his relatives. Azula smiled fondly at him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head once Sokka was done patching up his uneven sunscreen work.

"Have fun in a reasonable way, alright? All of you. No crazy attempts to race with tiger sharks underwater or anything like that, Yuuna," Azula said, pressing a kiss to her daughter's hair too: Yuuna's eyes brightened.

"Are there tiger sharks in Ember Island?!"

"There aren't supposed to be, no," Azula smiled, shaking her head. Yuuna blew a raspberry and shook her head.

"Boring!"

"Oh, now, you have a whole beach to have fun in!" Sokka told Yuuna, leaning down and resting his weight on his knees. "Bet you can find something other than tiger-sharks, maybe a turtle crab, and…"

"And I'll bend it at Shun!"

"Wait, no! You shouldn't…!" Sokka gasped: Shun winced as his sister took off in a mad race towards the shoreline, laughing happily as she looked for any animals to toss at her older brother.

"Okay, I'm going to go hang out with Mari and Zi now…" Hotaru smiled awkwardly… only for Shun to grab onto her leg, still glancing in Yuuna's direction worriedly.

"Take me with you! She wouldn't dare attack you!" Shun whimpered. Hotaru laughed and shook her head.

"Oh, Shun…" she smiled, wrapping an arm around her brother's shoulders before glancing at her parents. "Is it okay, then…?"

"Sure, but if you go into the water try not to go too deep, alright?" Sokka advised her. "And take breaks if you do, once in a while. No need to go too crazy swimming all day long. And…!"

"Go, Hotaru," Azula cut him off, with a smirk: their daughter laughed at Sokka's heartfelt pout, as Azula wrapped an arm around his waist. "I'll keep your protective father in check, alright?"

"Sure thing," Hotaru chuckled: she guided Shun towards the others again, and the boy kept shooting wary glances at where his youngest sister now played with something or another that she'd found in the water. In all likelihood, Yuuna had already forgotten her previous intentions to mess with Shun, distracted by whatever unusual discovery she'd made, as ever happened with the innately curious girl.

Sokka released a deep breath, running a hand over his hair as he took in the good weather and the beautiful horizon. He turned a smile to Azula, whose eyes were set on him.

"Well, we can relax now. If just for a bit?" he said. Azula shrugged, dropping her head on his shoulder.

"Until we decide we have to join in the wild games just as well, I bet," Azula said. Sokka chuckled. "We could wind up racing each other in the water, you know we could…"

"I bet, but it might be better if we wait until the kids have had their fun first. Gotta keep an eye on them, even if we're giving them some space to go wild…" Sokka said, with an awkward smile. "Sometimes I think we worry too much…"

"Then Yuuna wants to play with tiger-sharks and, if anything, you start thinking you don't worry enough?" Azula guessed. Sokka laughed and nodded. "Same here, really. I suppose it won't be all that relaxing to watch them running wild, but at least we can sit down, talk, enjoy the sea air and the sunlight until we feel all dry and drained…"

"What a beautiful picture you paint, wife of mine," Sokka smirked. Azula chuckled against his chest, but he proceeded to do exactly what she'd told him they could.

Sokka pulled out a large towel and set it down on the sand: he meant to help Azula sit first, but she made him take his seat only to nestle on his lap, shameless and comfortably. Sokka groaned as he dropped fully on the towel, bringing her with him as he did.

"This is getting dangerous, Azula," he pointed out: she simply smirked, enjoying the feeling of his naked chest against her cheek. "We're too exposed for any naughty shenanigans, you know we are."

"I do, but you can't hope I'll simply sit away from you when I can be far more comfortable on your lap, Sokka," she said, sighing happily. "Though… come to think of it, isn't it our turn to apply the sunscreen?"

"That… will only make things worse," Sokka said, looking at her warily. Azula laughed, urging him to sit up with her. "Azula…?"

"We totally should have done this indoors, but what the heck. May we end up so sticky with lotion we won't want to touch each other at all later…"

"That is literally impossible: you could be covered in the contents of a swamp bog, and I'd still want to touch you."

"Aw, so romantic…" Azula's eyes fluttered in his direction in the most mocking manner possible, as Sokka smirked knowingly.

"You wouldn't return the favor, though, I know as much. Prude, prissy Princess…"

"How dare you!" Azula scoffed, feigning offense as Sokka laughed. "I absolutely would return the favor… while complaining the whole time about how disgusting it is, how bad it smells, how wrong it is for me to do it, all perfectly normal things…"

"Suits you just fine, yeah," Sokka smiled, leaning quickly to kiss her laughing lips. "You're too clever for me…"

"As you are for me. Sneaky Sokka," she said, narrowing her eyes. His own grin widened further. "You know I'm making you pay for all that teasing tonight…"

"And you know I'm looking forward to it, Princess."

She couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief as he grinned proudly: the first bit of lotion she poured on her hands landed smack on his chest as she chided him for his misdemeanors, and Sokka laughed even harder as their attempts to help protect each other with the sunscreen became a playful struggle they enjoyed delightfully.

Their playfight was mostly ignored by the children, and dismissed by the other adults, who each seemed to have found distinct, safe spots in the beach to set up their stations at. Everyone seemed ready to relax gladly… everyone except for the children, who were already playing in the water, laughing loudly, splashing everywhere, racing each other and coming up with whatever mischief might come to mind.

The natural ringleader of most mischief, Mari, rallied Hotaru, Zi and Yuudai with her, after some initial fun in the water. Her dreams of a kuai ball match only seemed closer at hand, now that all necessary preparations were properly finished.

"Do we have a net, though…?" Hotaru asked Mari, who shot her a clever grin.

"I made sure Dad bought one before we came here! I'll go fetch it, we'll set up the court and then…!"

"Then we'll play… against who?" Zi asked, raising her eyebrows. "I think Dad said it's usually four against four…"

"Oh, it can be less than that," Mari decided, grinning. "I have it all figured out, Zi! Just follow me!"

Zi sighed but did as her sister told her: the two sprinted back to the house while Yuudai and Hotaru lagged a few paces behind, uncertain of whatever Mari had in mind.

"Is she always like this?" Yuudai asked Hotaru, amused.

"Well, we don't get to spend that much time together, but… yeah, for as long as I can remember," Hotaru answered, grinning. Yuudai chuckled and shrugged.

"Guess I'll have to get used to it, then. Nobody in my family is that energetic…"

"Guess not," Hotaru smiled, glancing in the direction of Mai and Ruon Jian.

The pair seemed perfectly content to nestle together under their umbrella while their youngest son dug a hole in the sand, not far from where they sat. As strange as Renshu could be, their family, it seemed to Hotaru, was by far the calmest of the group… though Katara and Aang, the former of whom sat with her twin children near Ty Lee and Haru, weren't all that chaotic either, at least not so far. Once their children were older, though…

"Well… we could have even bigger games when everyone's old enough, come to think of it," Hotaru laughed quietly. Yuudai smiled and shrugged.

"Maybe, though if your little sister and your little brother get to play this game, I may be too scared to join in," he confessed. Hotaru chuckled, though she couldn't fault Yuudai for thinking so.

Fortunately, Shun and Yuuna were having too much fun, swimming in the shallow area of the shore while under Aang's supervision – the Avatar was a magnet for the younger kids of the group, and even Kerra was swimming with him right now, listening to his instructions on how to swim backstroke without sinking – she wasn't particularly proficient at staying afloat compared to the other three, though.

By the time Kerra finally started getting the hang of the swimming style, soaring between waves that Yuuna relished in, Hotaru, Yuudai, Mari and Zi had returned from their venture into the house: Mari and Yuudai shared the weight of the two tall poles upon which the net, carried between Zi and Hotaru, would be hoisted.

Every set of eyes turned towards them as they started setting up the game: Mari drew a large circle in the sand around the poles – when they seemed to be unstable in the sand, Haru gave the group a hand by strengthening the sand near the poles they were setting in place, ensuring they would remain steady in their spot. Once the net had been set up, the four oldest children in the group were finally ready to play, and Mari's grand scheme would finally unfold…

"Wait, what?! B-but I can barely play! I should be teamed with you!" Zi whimpered, reaching for her sister, who huffed and shook her head.

"Hotaru's going to be a great teammate for you! Come on, Zi…!" Mari said, nudging her sister, who pouted and grabbed onto her arm.

"But you two are the tallest in the group, we're going to be crushed…!" Zi grimaced. Yuudai smiled and stepped forward.

"She does have a point," he said to Mari, whose plans were suddenly derailed by Yuudai's words. "Don't worry: I can play with your sister, and Hotaru can be on your team. Makes sense, right?"

"B-but…" Mari's eyebrow twitched: Hotaru smiled happily at her, and she couldn't seem to protest against that. "Fine, then, fine… but I'll choose teams for the next game!"

Most eyes were drawn to their kuai ball court by then: even the children by the shore seemed to slow down on their swimming training – though Renshu continued to build his hole, with absolute determination. Azula and Sokka, happily cradled in each other's arms once more, watched with amusement as their daughter took her position with her cousin.

"Two firebenders against two non-benders…?" Sokka asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You're not about to say that's an unfair deal, are you?" Azula smirked.

"It wouldn't be, if the two non-benders weren't… Zi and Yuudai?" Sokka smiled, poking her ribcage lightly: Azula squirmed against him, drawing closer to his bare chest. "You know I can keep up with any bender I bump into, but Zi barely could handle her mom's Kyoshi Warrior training, if she even did…"

"Well, when you put it that way, I suppose we're about to witness… a bit of a massacre?" Azula asked, amused.

"Let's see if they surprise us," Sokka bit his lip: Mari had already raised the ball, flinging it into the air and slamming it hard with her hand.

Yuudai wasn't particularly athletic, but he kept up fairly well with his opponents. Zi, however, fell to shambles with every strong spike by either Hotaru or Mari. Yuudai attempted to receive their attacks, to pass the ball to Zi so she could hit it back to the other court… but by the time she seemed to get the hang of the game, she and Yuudai were down to a mere two points just before Mari kicked the ball powerfully for her final tenth point.

Another round saw only a mild improvement on the opposing team – though they kept the ball rolling for longer on each point. Still, Hotaru and Mari triumphed again, ten to six, and Zi appeared too disheartened to try playing any further. Yuudai took his loss more gracefully… but he still requested for a break, to Mari's utter chagrin.

"B-but… this was when we switched teams," Mari groaned, pressing her face to the ball. Hotaru sighed, patting her cousin's shoulder.

"It was very intense. Maybe we all can use a break now," she said, with a carefree grin. Mari pouted in her direction, but it seemed pointless to her to play against Hotaru alone…

So, she let her cousin go, and so she stood, alone on the kuai ball court she had been so determined to set up. She let out a groan, wondering if she should go for a swim for now, or if she should just wait until the others were ready for another round…

"Well, now… that's just rude. They ditched her? Unacceptable!" Sokka declared, brow furrowed playfully. Azula shrugged.

"It is a shame… but sadly most the other kids are way too young to play with her," she said: Yuuna and Kerra ran up to Mari, no doubt asking if they could play with her, but Mari only smiled and shook her head, responsibly declining to play so intensely with two kids who were about half her age.

"Well, who said only kids get to play?"

Sokka's words seemed to set off a strange switch inside Azula's head. She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, and he smirked right back at her: her lips shifted into a smile, and Sokka knew she'd understood his intent right away.

"Besides… as far as I know, Mari thinks you and I are about the coolest parents there are. We can't let her change her mind, now, can we?" he snickered, nudging Azula again. She laughed, shaking her head… and making to rise to her feet.

"We really can't let her down. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we did," she decided. Sokka snickered, pushing himself up to his feet as well.

Mari had successfully convinced the two younger girls to go back to Aang when she heard the footsteps on the sand behind her: she turned quickly to find her favorite set of aunt and uncle were approaching her kuai ball court… and her eyes gleamed when they stepped inside the circle she'd drawn earlier.

"Well, well… I can't pretend I know exactly how this game goes, but I think I caught the gist of it earlier," Sokka smirked: Mari's smile couldn't have been broader as she glanced between both Azula and Sokka. "What do you say about teaming up with us, then?"

"I…! T-that would be a dream come true, but…! Are you guys sure?" she asked, smiling nervously. Azula laughed and nodded, reaching for the ball her niece was still holding.

"I was known to tear kuai ball courts to pieces, in my youth…" she said, dramatically: Mari snorted and laughed, handing the ball to Azula. "Of course, I will try to be civilized today and not wreck your nice net. Looks brand-new and everything…"

"It is!" Mari exclaimed, beaming. "You guys sure, then? Though… I don't know who we'd play. Seems like everyone else wants to take a break…"

"Oh, pfft, there's no need to worry about that," Sokka smirked, glancing over Mari's head: he didn't doubt, not for a second, that their attempt to join Mari would go answered by other fully adult players… and he wasn't surprised to see exactly who would step up to the challenge.

"Hey, now… you guys are playing with Mari?" Zuko's voice reached them: he and Suki had stepped up to the edge of the kuai ball court, and Zuko stared at his sister skeptically. Azula simply answered him with a nonchalant shrug.

"Why, I don't see a problem with that," she said, wrapping an arm around Mari's shoulders: the girl smiled wildly upon finding her aunt was on her side, in every sense that counted. "You'll need one more team member to make things even, though… or, well, as even as can be."

Sokka snickered at Azula's very obvious taunt… the funniest part about it was that he knew, of course, that it would pay off perfectly: Zuko seemed to see red at Azula's insinuation that an even number of team players couldn't possibly suffice to defeat her, Sokka and Mari…

"Mari should be playing with us, if anything!" Zuko huffed: Mari chuckled and shook her head. "Y-you… hey! I taught you how to play!"

"I want to be on Aunt Azula and Uncle Sokka's team!" she said, proudly. Sokka laughed, throwing his own arm over Azula's, his free fist into the air.

"The girl knows two champions when she sees them. Can't blame her for that, now, can you, Zuzu?" he snickered: Azula couldn't ever help but laugh upon hearing her husband addressing Zuko with his despised nickname, and it was clear Zuko's patience was now at an end.

"Well, then, if that's how you three want it…!" he said, turning around quickly. Suki, beside him, sighed.

"You're sure about this? It is Mari…" she asked. Zuko scoffed.

"I'm fighting those two. I'll keep Mari out of it," he assured her, before his eyes fell upon his ideal final member for the three-member team. "Katara! Want to kick your brother's ass?"

"Woah!" Katara gasped at Zuko's sudden proposal. She had been talking with Ty Lee about her pregnancy, sharing stories about her own process, enjoying the previous kuai ball games just fine while they chatted, Tashi and Tallah nestled comfortably on her lap. The chi-blocker snickered, nudging her with her knee to join in.

"You can leave your two lovely kiddos to me and Haru, go on now!" Ty Lee said. "I'd join them myself, but as you can tell…"

"Are you sure?" Katara asked, with a weak smile. Both Haru and Ty Lee nodded, reaching out to hold one child each. Katara laughed and bowed her head in their direction. "Well… great. I guess I'm off to a new iteration of sibling wars, here…"

"Have fun!" Ty Lee called after her.

"Good luck!" Haru said, too. Katara smiled at the two of them, waving in their direction.

Aang, still in the water, watched as his wife approached the kuai ball court, slack jawed. Katara waved in his direction, so he shook his head and smiled brightly before cheering her on.

"You can do it! You can beat them, Katara!" he called out.

By then, though, the kids around him had rushed out of the water, delighted by the notion of the all-out brawl about to take place in the kuai ball court: the teams were assembled now, and the six players were ready to get going. By now, the three who had retired earlier seemed most eager to return to the game soon… but for the time being, Yuudai, Hotaru and Zi would sit with their younger siblings, watching the game from the sidelines – surprisingly, even Renshu seemed to stop digging his hole, and he sat on his brother's lap while watching the court intently, waiting for the match to start.

Each team had huddled up, and Mari's eyes brightened upon knowing she'd be a first-hand witness to her aunt and uncle's impeccable strategizing abilities today. Yet, when it came down to it…

"Well, team captain Mari… what do you think we should do?" Sokka asked: the youngest team member gasped, glancing between them in utmost confusion.

"I, uh… I'm the captain?"

"You're the one who came up with this idea. So… yes, I'd say you are," Azula smiled, nudging her gently. Mari giggled, biting her lip.

"Then, uh… I want to hear what you guys have in mind, first?" she said, too bashful to try and think of any strategies herself – she doubted she'd come up with anything on par with what either of these two could think of.

"Hmm, well… Katara and Suki are bound to be a problem," Azula pointed out, casting a glance in their direction. "As much as you're her daughter…"

"Yeah, Mom's not going to hold back with me. Not at all," said Mari, shaking her head.

"But your dad's another story," Sokka smirked: Azula mirrored the expression immediately.

"Therefore, I think the proper strategy as good as speaks for itself," she said. Sokka nodded "You should take a center-back position, Sokka…"

"I'll receive every ball I can," he said, with certainty. "And then I'll pass it forward, to either of you guys…"

"Oh, no. Not to either of us," Azula's smile gained an even more dangerous edge. "There's one sure-proof way for us to score, Sokka… and we're going to make the most of it."

"You sure?" Sokka asked. "Might be he'll catch on eventually… or the other two will."

"If they do, we'll still be so far ahead that we'll be practically guaranteed to reach the ten points before they do," Azula determined. Mari, beside them, chuckled.

"You guys are incredible. You take even this so seriously… uh, I take it seriously too, don't get me wrong! It's just, well… uh, never mind. So! What's the rest of the plan, exactly?"

Both Azula and Sokka shared another complicit smirk before conveying their ideas to Mari. The young firebender's eyes widened, as the most ironclad plan came together right then and there…

A mere minute later, everyone was ready for the game to start. Mari stood outside the court's line: she tossed the ball high in the air and kicked it powerfully towards the other side of the court.

Katara received the ball, impressed by the power it had packed: Zuko kneed it, giving the ball plenty of altitude for Suki to slam it hard with her hand…

But Sokka leapt forward just in time, stopping the ball from dropping in the sand. It hovered right above him, and Azula dashed forth, passing the ball to Mari, who was already mid-jump…

In the middle of the air, as she was, Mari smirked upon finding the exact place to slam the ball towards:

It wasn't as fast as the spike Suki had pulled off earlier, but this one landed on the ground, right in front of Zuko's unmoving form.

Both Suki and Katara gasped, finding Zuko hadn't made the slightest effort to receive the ball: meanwhile, the other team celebrated their first point quite rowdily.

"O-okay, sorry about that," Zuko swallowed hard. "I'll do better next time."

"You'd better," Katara retorted: Zuko scoffed at her. "You didn't call me here just so I'd wind up on a losing team, now, did you?"

"We're not going to lose, that's exactly why you're here! Just make the most of your chance to mess with your brother, as you always do!" Zuko grunted. Katara, despite herself, smiled at Zuko's words.

"Well, you can never go wrong with messing with your annoying older brother, that much is true…" she said, knowing Sokka, already in position again, heard her loud and clear: he stuck his tongue out in her direction, and Katara smirked as she readied herself to respond to this next service by Mari.

Again, they managed to keep the ball in play: it was Katara who dealt the spike this time, but while it was too fast for Sokka to react and receive it with his hands or feet, it bounced against his head and didn't hit the ground. Azula gasped as he rolled back on the sand, but she rushed to get the ball anyway, as it seemed to be about to fall out of the court.

With a powerful kick, Azula returned the ball to her last teammate: once again, Mari hit the ball powerfully, and this time it landed two paces next to Zuko.

"Zuko!" both Suki and Katara cried out: he flinched, knowing exactly why he was messing up… and suspecting why it was happening, too. He shot a wary glare at his sister, who had rushed up to her husband. Sokka had a groggy expression on his face, but he, of course, asked the one question Zuko expected him to ask…

"Did we pull it off?" he said, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.

"Yup. Two to nil," Azula smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his brow. "You're impossibly heroic, even in friendly kuai ball matches."

"No idea how friendly it is: we're at war with our siblings, feels to me…" Sokka smiled, as Azula helped him to his feet.

"No need to worry… we've got this, Sokka," Azula said, smirking in the direction of the opposing team.

"Come on, Zuko. Get it together," Katara hissed again. He huffed, frowning.

"I will, I will. I know what to expect now…" he said.

But he was wrong, again: this time, when he prepared himself for Mari's spike, Azula spun in a circle and kicked the ball Sokka had sent her way, right into the sand. Katara lunged for it, but she couldn't stop the powerful kick before it landed.

"You guys are AMAZING!" Mari laughed, rushing in to hug her aunt and uncle, whose smirks couldn't have been more irritating for their siblings. Suki sighed at the obvious, rising competitive spirit of both Katara and Zuko, running a hand over her hair.

"Come on, come on, take it easy, you two," she said, patting their shoulders. "We can do this. Just… don't send it at Sokka this time."

"Sure thing," Zuko huffed. Katara didn't appear to enjoy that particular order, but she nodded in Suki's direction.

Upon the next of Mari's serves, Suki passed the ball to Katara, who slammed it hard close to the net. Azula's attempt to dig the ball failed, but she only laughed off her first lost point as the others basked in their success.

"Guess they were onto us much faster than expected," she smiled, as Sokka helped her up.

"I'll be more careful, then," Sokka said, eyeing his opponents warily. "I'll be ready to jump forward whenever I have to…"

"Be ready to do more than that, if need be," Azula said, patting his chest affectionately. "No one here's bound to have a more powerful arm than you. If you don't receive it, you might just be able to spike it…"

"Huh… you sure about that?" Sokka smiled. Azula winked at him.

"Trust me."

"Always," he responded: Azula smiled brightly at his answer.

Zuko served this time: he shot the ball powerfully at Sokka, unable to make the ball land anywhere else: Mari attempted to spike it at Zuko again, but Suki leapt in the way of it, flinging the ball upwards for Katara to set it properly and for Zuko to slam it again…

But this time, Azula and Sokka had changed positions.

She received the ball, rolling on the sand as a result: Mari watched in sheer awe as Sokka seemed to levitate, gearing up with an attack that none of the other team's members were prepared for.

The ball slammed powerfully into the sand, still spinning in place as Sokka dropped on the ground again, a proud smirk on his face.

"You guys just…!" Mari gasped, her hands over her mouth as she gazed at them in amazement.

A cheer broke from their many onlookers. Hotaru, Shun and Yuuna cheered for their parents' teamwork, while many of the others clapped at the way they'd obliterated the defense of their opposing team. Most of the audience wasn't surprised in the least to see Azula and Sokka gaining such an advantage over their opponents, though the opponents in question weren't all that pleased about it.

"Guess they're taking us seriously now, huh?" Zuko said, with a proud smile that waned quickly. "Though that may not be a good thing for us anyway."

"We're NOT letting them get a win so easily. We're fighting this, to the end!" Katara declared: it would be Azula's serve next, and they were ready quickly to receive the ball.

They did fight, and quite bravely: they managed a couple more points later on, though only after Azula's serve scored two more for their side. By the time it was Sokka's turn to serve, everyone was ready to receive a powerhouse of an attack… that wound up going too far, landing outside the court and leading his three opponents to sigh in relief.

"Ugh, damn it. Should control my power better…" Sokka pouted: Azula eased him by kissing his cheek.

"Being so strong and fierce may lose us a few points in the game, but it wins you quite a few of them with me, just the same," she declared, wiggling her eyebrows: his previous irritation was eased quickly by her teasing. "Come on, then. We're not that far from crushing them completely."

Katara's serve wasn't as powerful as her brother's, but strong enough to cause Mari to roll in the sand after digging the ball right on time. Azula passed it, Sokka smacked it… but Zuko dug it too, much as his daughter had. Suki was the next to spike, though Azula received it, handing it to Sokka, and Sokka set it for Mari…

Another spike, and another out-of-bounds blast.

"Oh, damn it!" Mari huffed: her parents cheered on the other side, and their little audience seemed to cheer for them as well.

"Calm down, calm down. We're still ahead, and we'll stay ahead," Azula smiled. "If things take a bad turn, well… we'll just have to take extreme measures."

"I wonder what that means," Mari glanced at her aunt, who smirked deviously.

"I have no choice but to hold back so far, is all… I'd rather not go the extra mile unless we really have to," she said. Mari gulped but smiled. "Sokka's holding back too, so…"

"You guys are terrifying… and you're also the coolest people ever," she laughed. Azula smiled, winking at her niece before Katara served again.

This time, Mari's showdown with her mother kept them stalled in a point for almost three minutes: Sokka swept in eventually, slapping the ball right past Suki, at such speed neither Zuko nor Katara could reach it.

"Yeah! One last point and we're done!" Mari cheered: it was her serve again, and she hoped to do it right…

Her father grimaced when she took her position: he loved his daughter dearly and wanted her to be happy… but he didn't want his sister and her husband to thwart his team. It was a troubling conflict of interests… but it was one that caused him to do his best, even when the ball his daughter served went flying right in his direction.

He managed to dig it, handing it to Katara, who passed it over the net immediately: Azula struck it, making it hover just long enough for Sokka to knee it higher yet… and then Mari swept in, kicking the ball towards her father anew…

Suki leapt in front of the ball, passing it to Katara. Zuko jumped over Suki, shooting her a complicit smile before spiking the ball… and Azula received it, hard enough and in such an angle that it bounced right into Zuko's face.

Suki gasped, but Katara rushed after the ball anyway. Azula grimaced as her brother found his bearings… and glared at her for making the ball rebound that way. She shrugged apologetically, but she had little time to repent: Katara had managed to save the ball, Suki was in position to spike it…

Mari dug it this time, falling face-first in the sand to save a ball that would have almost certainly left a sizable hole in the sand if it had touched the ground. Azula turned quickly, ready to set the ball… and Sokka leapt powerfully, right above her.

Azula smirked, passing him the ball just in time for him to smirk knowingly at her. With a blow as strong as that of his failed serve earlier, but from a much better vantage point, Sokka dunked the ball in the sand, just before the other three could jump quickly enough to reach it.

"We won! We… YES!" Mari screamed, leaping to her feet: Sokka had stumbled on the sand, dropping atop his wife as the two of them laughed over their victory, rolling under the net.

"Ugh! This is exactly why I didn't want them to win!" Zuko groaned, covering his eyes from the sight of his sister kissing her husband in the most shameless manner possible – Shun did the same thing among the public, while everyone else just laughed at their reactions.

"If that was how it was, you should've been smarter about receiving your dear daughter's powerful spikes," Katara smiled, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "We lost, but I'd say we were a pretty good team, though!"

"Better than expected, considering you'd never played with us before," Suki laughed, hugging Katara to thank her for the game.

"You guys are crazy!" Hotaru laughed, entering the court and approaching her parents. They were still locked in each other's embrace, laughing carelessly at their latest successful venture.

"What do you want us to say? We're just naturals at kuai ball!" Sokka grinned, raising his head to glance at his daughter. "Or, well, I am."

"It's just the first time you play, and you crushed the competition so thoroughly," Azula smiled fondly as she cupped his face. "We were always meant to be, Sokka, I knew we were…"

"Was there ever any doubt?" Sokka snickered, prompting Azula to kiss him one more time before sitting up, utterly proud of her victory.

"Thank you, guys," Mari smiled, stepping closer to her two teammates. "That was… the best kuai ball game, EVER!"

"Woah, really? We can't try to outdo it, then?"

Yuudai's voice startled Mari: she turned quickly towards him, her cheeks flushed. He smiled at her and nodded in acknowledgement.

"You're really good at this game, keeping up with two grown-ups in your team and three in the other one… maybe you should try to make some sort of professional career out of it," Yuudai suggested. Mari snorted and shook her head.

"Is there such a thing? I doubt it… though, if there is, I definitely have to think about it," she smirked, to everyone's amusement.

"Well, then… you up for another round?" Yuudai asked, with a shrug. "Pretty sure a lot of people want to join in now…"

He wasn't wrong: Zi was back on board too, inspired by the showdown between her parents and her sister. Hotaru seemed perfectly enthusiastic as well, so their previous group was ready… while Aang had rushed in to ask to be part of the game as well, delighted to test his ability to handle a game so different from the ones he used to play with his fellow airbenders. Ty Lee had spurred Haru to take part in the game too, in her place, and Ruon Jian had stepped up as well, despite admitting he hadn't tried his hand at kuai ball since a very long time ago. Out of those playing the last game, only Suki and Mari remained in the court: Azula and Sokka stepped out and joined their youngest children, who seemed all too thrilled for their victory in the last game.

"I want to play!" Yuuna insisted, once Shun darted off to watch the start of the next game. Azula smiled, smoothing the girl's disorderly hair.

"You're not quite ready to play against your big cousin just yet…" Azula said, but she smirked soon enough. "But we could start preparing you for that, someday."

"Yeah!" Yuuna grinned, clasping her mother's hands: Azula smiled at Sokka, who nodded approvingly.

"We've got a smaller ball in our bags. Want to practice with that one?"

"Yeah, bring it over," Azula said.

Yuuna couldn't have been more excited, though her enthusiasm dwindled when a boyish voice spoke up to Azula suddenly.

"I want to learn to play too."

Azula glanced down at Renshu: he stared at her with the same straightforward bluntness he ever exhibited, and Yuuna grimaced over his presence immediately. Azula smiled, though, and nodded at Mai's second son.

"If you want, sure thing. Might be the next time we come here, the four of us will be a great team," Azula said. Yuuna stuck her tongue out at the notion, just as Sokka returned to them, the new ball in hand.

They started in the sand, simply passing the ball from one to the other… but as Yuuna seemed unamused about having to pass the ball to Renshu, Azula and Sokka decided the child needed a new variant added to the game, to distract her from being cross with the little boy: they entered the water, making it so they stood in a square, with Yuuna and Renshu closer to shore, while the two grown-ups stood deeper in the water.

"Alright, then! Remember: there's no bending in kuai ball…" Sokka said to Yuuna, though Azula snorted.

"Well, now, I never heard of that rule…"

"Hey, now," Sokka eyed her meaningfully: Azula offered him a guilty grin before he tossed the ball at her. "Come on, start passing!"

The water slowed their movements, thus, it forced them to make bigger efforts to reach the ball. Even though the kids weren't all that deep in the water, the ball slipped out of their small hands a few times… though when it happened to Yuuna once, she bent some nearby water quickly to ensure the ball would return to her hands, hoping no one would notice she had broken the passing pattern. Yet, of course, everyone did… and one of them would never fail to point out whatever he'd noticed:

"You used your bending," Renshu said. Yuuna pouted. "It's not allowed."

"… Tattletale," Yuuna pouted. Renshu blinked blankly.

"I just told the truth," he said, simply.

Flustered and irritated, Yuuna responded to Renshu's accusation by tossing the ball at him when he didn't expect it. It bounced cleanly off his head, and both Sokka and Azula gasped at her choice: Renshu, however, didn't seem bothered by it at all.

"Yuuna! There's no need to do that, Renshu's a friend…!" Sokka said. Yuuna bit her lower lip, glancing at her parents apologetically.

"Sorry…"

"It didn't hurt. It's a light ball," Renshu said: it seemed as though he had no idea what was there to be worried about, altogether. Yuuna glanced at him with uncertainty…

Then, she used her bending again to have the ball float into Renshu's hands again. The young boy seemed puzzled when the ball returned to him… and then he smiled.

"Woah. W-woah…!" Sokka gasped, reaching for Azula's arm: his wife actually laughed at the sight of the boy smiling, for neither of them had seen it before.

"Thank you," Renshu said, still grinning at Yuuna before tossing the ball at Azula again.

Azula and Sokka remained amused and amazed by the boy's unusual display of emotion as the ball came back into circulation between them. They'd definitely have to ask Mai later if he'd ever reacted this way to anyone else… but for now, they cherished having witnessed such a rare sight with Yuuna, who had relaxed a little upon realizing that perhaps Renshu wasn't bad company after all. As awkward as she was around the boy before, now she seemed much quicker to smile in his direction whenever she passed him the ball.

In the meantime, two more games passed by in the kuai ball court: at first, it was a game with Mari and Yuudai, finally on the same team, paired with Haru and Suki. On the other team, Hotaru, Zi, Ruon Jian and Aang had done their best to win, but the Avatar's frequent, instinctive airbending had caused the game to stop, and for points to be annulled, because of the evident unfairness that Aang himself acknowledged as such between awkward, apologetic smiles. In the end, Mari was happily triumphant anew, though her streak ended when the next game saw the young players teaming up against the adult ones: even without airbending, Aang's height offered him quite an advantage over his opponents, much as Suki's agility did. Haru's quick digs saw him receiving even the most complicated balls, more often than not, and as much as Ruon Jian seemed to have no special skill of his own, he passed the ball to everyone who did, always ensuring they could take the points when the opportunity came up.

The defeated teenagers weren't all that discouraged, though: the grown-ups they'd been playing seemed too tired to continue, but Mari knowingly glanced at her previous partners, finding they were finally getting out of the water with the two children they had been playing with:

"Hey, Aunt Azula, Uncle Sokka! Want another round?" she asked, with a mischievous grin. Sokka scoffed.

"Aren't you exhausted yet, Mari? Goodness, what do your parents feed you that you still can go for another game…?" Sokka asked, running his hand over his wet hair. Mari snickered and shook her head.

"Oh, come on! You totally can take another game! Though I guess you'll need two more teammates… oh, I know! Dad, Kat-Kat!"

"Woah. Did she just…?" Sokka froze: Azula grimaced too as both Zuko and Katara, who had sat out the last two games, glanced at Mari in confusion.

"You can have your rematch: join Aunt Azula and Uncle Sokka to beat me!" Mari said, with a vicious smirk.

"Wait a minute…!" Zuko gasped. Katara scoffed.

"I wanted to beat them, not you, Mari!" Katara said, bluntly: her earnest answer amused Sokka and Azula, as Mari smiled and shook her head.

"Now you guys can try to work together to beat me and my team, then! Should be lots of fun!"

"Well, now… playing against Hotaru? That sounds so wrong…" Sokka said, glancing at Azula with uncertainty. His wife scoffed.

"You're not going to be as silly about that as Zuko was, now, are you? It's a game, not a battlefield…"

"As far as I can tell, every game is a battlefield of its own," Sokka smiled, as they entered the court. "But anyway, she's definitely trying to coax those two to join in because she assumes we're going to fail if we work together with them, right?"

"Right… and we can't give her the satisfaction, can we?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. Sokka snickered and shook his head, glancing at Katara.

"Come on, Katara!" he called for her. "I promise I won't kiss Azula every point we score…"

"That's something you ought to be promising this guy, not me," Katara smirked, pointing at Zuko, whose eyebrow twitched at her words. "You guys are for real? Us against them?"

"Well, why not? We're always at odds, the fun siblings and the boring ones…" Sokka said, with a melodramatic sigh.

"And after calling us that, you still think we're going to join in?" Zuko growled, rising to his feet.

"Well, now! I didn't say which was which, you jumped to conclusions all on your own!" Sokka grinned. Zuko huffed, kicking sand in his direction and shaking his head as he and Katara joined their siblings on their side of the court.

"I'm joining in, alright… but only because Mari wants me to," he said, proudly. "And we're going to lose, deliberately, so that she and Zi can be happy."

"Wait, wait, wait, that defeats the whole point of playing…" Sokka said, grimacing.

"Your daughter is on the other team too, how are you even questioning this?" Zuko asked, eyeing Sokka with uncertainty.

"Oh, our daughter will be fine if she loses," Azula smirked, glancing at Hotaru, who grinned and waved in her direction. "It'll just toughen her up, if anything…"

"Toughen her up…?" Zuko grimaced, glancing at Mari. "Not sure I want mine to be toughen-…"

His words seemed to die out in a sputter, his brow drawn together upon noticing Mari wasn't as attentive to him as Hotaru was with Azula and Sokka: instead, Mari's attention was completely enraptured by Yuudai, who seemed to laugh happily at whatever his unusually bashful daughter was saying to him…

"W-what is… w-what is…?" he asked, blinking rapidly as he raised a hand towards what was happening on the other side of the court. "Hey now, that's not… t-that's not allowed…"

Azula, Sokka and Katara glanced back at Mari: it only took an instant for all three of them to understand what was bothering Zuko so greatly all of sudden… and it only took another instant for a clever idea to transmit between all three of them, wordlessly.

"Well, well… maybe Mari had a reason to want to play with that particular team, huh?" Azula said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Zuko's face seemed to spasm now, and Sokka could barely hold back the laughter that threatened to break him. Katara stepped up next:

"That's definitely flirty body language, yes," she said, supporting her weight by setting an elbow on Zuko's shoulder. "Oh, my, what a mess…"

"He's not… what the hell does he think he's doing?" Zuko asked, with a dangerous smile.

"Well, now… Mari's not bound to take it very well if you snap at her right now," Azula said, smiling at Zuko. "She's just being a teenager, after all. But the one you're definitely worried about is…"

"Him," Zuko finished. Katara smirked.

"And there's no better way to deal with this apparent threat… than by playing at your very best, isn't that right?"

"I…! I…!" Zuko huffed, releasing a small puff of fire with a hard breath through his nose. He turned quickly, his back towards the net as he snarled viciously. "I'm taking him down."

Azula punched the air triumphantly as Katara giggled to herself, just as bad at containing her amusement as Sokka was. Within moments, they'd huddled up, and their strategy meeting began.

There wasn't much to instruct Zuko over: his eyes shifted in every direction with concerned fury, and it was clear he'd do a much better job this game than he had in the previous one he'd played. They would take a different formation now, with Azula and Katara at either side of the court, Sokka taking the back, and Zuko standing closest to the net.

"Alright… brace yourselves!" Sokka called, as Mari readied herself to serve. Azula winked at Hotaru, opposite to her on the court, and her daughter grinned happily at her mother.

The ball flew powerfully, right into Sokka's ready arms: it bounced off Azula's palms next, in Zuko's direction…

The firebender leapt in the air, readying a spinning kick that he aimed flawlessly at Yuudai.

The young man stretched his hands out, trying to receive the ball, but it bounced wildly off his hands, slamming unevenly and bouncing out of the court. Yuudai winced, and Mari gasped, rushing towards him.

"You okay, Yuudai?! Dad! Take it easy!" she huffed: Zuko's eyes seemed to glower, and Mari flinched at the sight of it. "D-Dad…?"

"Oookay, Zuko! Nicely done! Good job!" Sokka smiled, yanking the firebender towards them: he still was seeing red, evidently. "Hey now, buddy, it's cool that you're taking it seriously but…"

"She… she just ran off to check on him, she…" Zuko huffed. Azula hummed.

"If you aim so that the ball doesn't touch him, she'll have no reason to worry about him, you know…?" she said. Katara and Sokka glanced at her in disbelief. "What? We should redirect his rage, not make him lose it. Not until we're at least five points ahead…"

"You're so competitive, you guys…" Katara smiled, shaking her head.

"Well, you can always let the rest of us do most the work and just be here to even our playing numbers, if you really don't care for victory that much…" Sokka said, nonchalantly. Katara's placid smile shifted into an irate scowl. "Or maybe not?"

"You… you're such a pain," she hissed, bumping him as they took positions again: Azula and Sokka exchanged a wicked smile before Shun came rushing back towards them, carrying the ball that had fallen out of the court earlier.

Azula served, Hotaru received it: Zi had very little confidence with spiking properly, so she set the ball for her older sister. Mari attempted her previous technique, hopeful that her father wouldn't be able to handle receiving this time…

Zuko leapt, arms extended in front of the ball. It bounced right back into her side of the court, and Mari gazed in shock at her father's disgruntled expression as Yuudai dove in to save the ball before their team lost another point. Zi hoisted the ball again, and this time it was Hotaru jumping, to spike…

Her father received it, grinning wildly at his proud daughter.

"Nice power there, Hotaru! That's my girl!" he roared: she blushed but smiled proudly as she returned to a defensive position.

The ball was Katara's to spike this time: sharp and eager to prove she was as fierce as the rest of her team's members, Katara mercilessly aimed her spike towards Zi's vicinity. The young girl squealed and shifted out of the way of the ball, and Katara's viciousness faded into remorse.

"Zi! I didn't mean to freak you out, I…!"

"Zi! Don't fear the ball, you should know better than that after all these games!" Mari stepped in, blocking Katara from view as she scolded her younger sister. Katara blinked a couple of times but sighed, guessing she'd apologize properly later.

"That's it, much better!" Sokka grinned at Katara, with a thumbs-up gesture. Katara sighed shaking her head.

"I'm letting you guys drive me crazy, aren't I? I really am…" she sighed, returning to position.

The next point lasted just two back-and-forth exchanges before the ball fell right into Zuko's hands: he slammed the ball powerfully at a corner near Yuudai, and he failed to reach the ball. Azula congratulated him for a better result now, but Zuko, clearly, wasn't satisfied… let alone was he when Yuudai himself blocked his next spike successfully, and Azula failed to dig the ball just before it fell within fair grounds.

"U-uh… I'm sorry?" Yuudai whimpered, face to face with Zuko's fearsome glare: Katara had to reel him back in, while Sokka took care to check that Azula was alright after lunging for the ball and failing to retrieve it.

"Don't mind him, don't mind him…" Mari huffed, hands on her hips. "I have no idea what's wrong with Dad right now, but… we did it! First point we've scored so far, you guys! Let's keep it rolling!"

And so they did: another mistake by Zuko resulted in a spike that collided with the topmost border of the net. Hotaru leapt in the air powerfully, kicking the ball with plenty of power, right beside Katara.

"Woah! You go, Hotaru!" Sokka roared, clapping as Azula nodded in her direction.

"Magnificent form, too. Nicely done," she said: Hotaru blushed, scratching the back of her head as she smiled shyly. Mari, beside her, huffed and shook her head.

"If only my parents were as cool as that…" she said: Zuko overheard her, and he gazed at her, stricken and distraught once again.

"Calm down, Zuko…" Katara warned him: he glanced at her in distress, though.

"Am I… losing her?! Am I losing them?! Is he going to…?!"

"To do what? He's sixteen!" Katara laughed, hands on her hips. "Come on, quit being such a dumbass about this, whatever it is. I know we thought it'd get you to do a better job, but you're actually doing worse now…"

"M-Mari hates me…" he whimpered. Katara groaned, shoving him towards the net before glancing at the other two.

"No more Zuko spikes or kicks. I think you guys broke him by accident," she said. Azula and Sokka raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but willing to abide by Katara's counsel.

Thus, the game became, by all effects, three-against-four. Zuko only seemed to pass the ball, leaving the other three to receive, set and spike together – even so, their physical superiority saw the opposing team, inexperienced and much too young, trailing behind by four points when they'd reached their eighth.

"Awesome work, Yuudai!" Mari exclaimed, rushing in to hug him quickly after he spiked and scored: Zuko's protectiveness reared its ugly head again at the sight, and he growled under his breath, waiting for the ball to reach him soon. Maybe Mari would hate him, but he couldn't let her throw her whole life away over some… some summer romance? Was that what this was? It couldn't be…!

The mere idea seemed to break what little sense he still had left: when Azula set for Katara, Zuko rushed in instead and kicked the ball powerfully, again at Yuudai… and this time it slammed right into his face.

"Yuudai!" Mari gasped: the ball dropped right in front of the net, and the young man flopped on the sand, a groggy smile on his face. Zuko scoffed.

"That's as far as this goes, Mar-…!"

"ZUKO!"

A sudden, thunderous, unexpectedly loud voice seemed to freeze the whole game. Zuko, naturally, was the most terrified one as Mari helped the still-groggy Yuudai up to a sitting position. The wounded teenager smiled awkwardly at his teammate… and then he glanced at his mother, who stood at the edge of the court, glaring fiercely at the fully-grown firebender responsible for Yuudai's many difficulties over the course of this game.

Zuko swallowed hard, eyeing Mai with utmost terror: he couldn't remember having angered her to that extent ever before… though it suddenly dawned on him that Yuudai was no common, random teenage boy. He was Mai's son, much as Mari was his daughter… and Mai would want his head on a platter after what he'd done.

"I… I… l-lost control…?" Zuko acknowledged. Mai's eyes glowered in the sunset, brighter than the last slivers of sunlight.

"You'd better not lose control again. You hear me?" she hissed. Zuko swallowed hard and nodded. "And even if you don't… this is not over."

Zuko gritted his teeth, watching as Mai stepped into the court, marching to check on her son – he seemed to be mostly fine, though he continued to smile awkwardly as his teammates talked to him. Yet, after convincing him of leaving the court to treat the unsurprising nosebleed that poured down his upper lip after a moment, Mai herself took his position. The three teenage girls watched her in sheer astonishment, and Mari gulped before bowing her head in their only adult teammate's direction.

"T-thank you for… filling in? Didn't expect that…" she admitted.

"I have to fill in for him. And I have a score to settle with your father," Mai hissed. Zuko gritted his teeth, shrinking in place: only one point remained, so perhaps Mai's motherly fury wouldn't reach him…

His hopes were unfounded: as soon as the ball was on her side of the court, Mai was merciless.

It hadn't really surprised Azula to find her friend could be quite so efficient and powerful upon setting her mind on something, but she couldn't remember Mai ever being a particularly impressive kuai ball player… and yet, all of sudden, she was the best one on the court. Her millimetric precision, her powerful attacks, her quick assessments on where to block, her leadership with the other girls… and her vengefulness at Zuko, too, saw the score slowly closing in until it stood nine-to-eight, even if still in favor of the team with the two sets of siblings.

"This is bad," Katara said, smiling awkwardly at her teammates. "They're going to kill us if we keep this up, so… you two? Got any big ideas in mind?"

Azula and Sokka glanced at each other: so far, the games had been nothing but entertainment. Taking them seriously would likely kill part of the fun – and admittedly, it had been fun for Zuko to cower under Mai's fury after his earlier outbursts. Yet neither of them liked losing, and they had no intentions of doing it now.

"Zuko," Azula said, glancing at her brother: his face, shoulders and chest sported a few circular red marks, where Mai's powerful spikes had struck him in retaliation for his cruelty with her son. "I'm going to need you to be ready to receive the next ball."

"But Mai's serving…"

"Exactly," Azula said, eyes narrow. "If we move fast enough, if Katara can toss it our way…"

"One of us can do it?" Sokka asked. Azula nodded.

"We can try to, anyway. We'll keep the ball rolling until the right chance comes, at least. But stick to receiving properly now, alright? No more blocking attempts, or spiking. Got it?"

Zuko nodded meekly, willing to do whatever was necessary to end his current torment: Azula clasped Sokka's hand firmly, and he smiled proudly at his wife.

"I have no idea what we're going to do to get this last point… so I guess we're going to wing it, huh?"

"Well, on some measure, yes," Azula smirked, shrugging. "We're going all out, though…"

"You sure? Won't set the net or the ball on fire if you do?" Sokka asked, amused. Azula shrugged.

"It's been known to happen…" she admitted, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. Sokka chuckled and shook his head.

"Oh, I love you."

"I love you too," Azula retorted with a complicit grin, squeezing his hand before taking her position.

Mai served: as predicted, the ball soared powerfully towards Zuko, not intended to find purchase in the sand, but to smack the firebender's face. Zuko kicked the ball upon receiving it, and as much as it was a reckless move that saw the ball floating far too high in the sky, Katara still rushed towards it.

"Got it, got it…!"

Her eyes flickered down to Sokka and Azula, who exchanged a knowing look. To her utter confusion, Sokka gathered Azula in his arms, leaning down with her…

Katara tossed a high set in their direction, and just so, Sokka tossed Azula into the air.

She soared, startling everyone else in the court, even Mai, whose focus so far had been exclusively on Zuko: nobody was prepared for Azula to turn around in midair, packing a powerful kick of her own that saw the ball shooting at lightning speed, right back to the sand…

It sank in the middle of the opposite team's side with a burst of sand, as good as leaving a crater in its wake.

Katara gasped in amazement. Zuko blinked blankly, relieved, the four at the opposing team simply stared at the crater in shock, and the public froze entirely as Azula fell back again… right into her husband's waiting arms.

"And that's ten!" Sokka roared, hugging Azula tightly as they spun in circles. "We did it! You did it, Azula!"

"You're the one who threw me up there, you're the one who did it!" Azula laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck: by then, their public had launched into a loud celebration, the children squealing with joy – or simply clapping, in Renshu's case –, the grown-ups laughing at the typically unpredictable antics of the impossibly competitive couple who embraced willfully in the middle of the kuai ball court, with Sokka still holding Azula across his arms as he smiled proudly.

Hotaru watched them with amusement, letting a few chuckles tumble past her lips as she glanced at the sand crater near her, where the ball had been buried a good meter underground. Mari's own reaction was laughter, though she turned to Mai soon enough, thanking her for filling in for Yuudai, who now sat with Ruon Jian by the courtside, waving at them and letting them know they'd played brilliantly, a damp cloth under his nostrils.

"Mom! Mom, you flew like a bird!" Yuuna rushed into the court, jumping happily at Sokka's feet. "Like a dragon!"

"Oh, that's because we're a family of dragons, Yuuna, I always tell you as much," Sokka chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to Azula's cheek. "And your mommy is the best dragon of all!"

"Well, now, I wouldn't be half the dragon I am if you weren't the amazing wolf that flings me six feet into the air… or however many they were," Azula laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips. "We really are the best team there is, aren't we?"

"Always have been," Sokka grinned brightly, burying his face in her neck: Shun had joined them by then, but he grimaced at the displays of affection between his parents, sticking his tongue out at the sight of them, cuddled up together that way.

All wild tempers had flared at their worst during the games: a mere few moments after it ended, Zuko went over to apologize to Yuudai, who smiled awkwardly but accepted the apology graciously.

"I know I shouldn't have played so roughly, I just… got carried away. I was completely out of place," Zuko sighed, lowering his head in a heartfelt reverence.

"It's okay, really. It was just a game," Yuudai said, with a kind smile. Zuko grinned back and nodded.

"That's right, it was just a-… wait, what?" Zuko's brain seemed to short-circuit over the possible interpretations of Yuudai's words, but this time, Suki slipped nearby quickly and yanked him away from the teenager.

"Good job apologizing, don't mess it up now," she said, with a dry grin. Zuko scoffed.

"But he just said it was a game: what was a game? The kuai ball, o-or whatever he's up to, with Mari…?" Zuko whimpered. Suki rolled her eyes.

"Probably just the kuai ball game? Come on, Zuko, we raised Mari right, didn't we? That's what matters most. And Mai must have raised Yuudai right too, but, beyond that, picking a fight with him means picking a fight with her, and you don't want to do that again, now, do you?"

Zuko grimaced over the question: Mai's good-mannered smile at Yuudai shifted into a merciless glare upon realizing Zuko had glanced in her direction: yes, perhaps Suki was right.

"I'll… shut up now," he decided.

Suki smiled, nodding at her husband before turning to the rest of the group, all of whom were finally calming down after the intense game:

"So…! Dinnertime?"

Their last meal of the day wasn't served within the house: instead, they ate around a large fire, roasting food together, enjoying leftovers from lunch, as well as a few desserts that had been ready for the meal. The sky darkened gradually, and the stars were a beautiful spectacle to behold for everyone: laughter rang across the beach as stories of all sorts were shared, great anecdotes from the old days, tales that most everyone either held dear or found intriguing, as was the case for most the children who hadn't witnessed them directly.

By the time the last of the food was spent, several of the families retired to the house again: Ty Lee and Haru took off with Zuko and Suki's family, and Katara and Aang followed shortly afterwards, carrying both their kids. Mai slowed down next to Azula and Sokka before taking off with her own family, however, finding the five members of the self-proclaimed dragon-and-wolf family were quite comfortable lying on the sand, facing the sky, not too far from where the fire still burned.

"You'll take care of that?" she asked Azula, gesturing at the burning wood. Azula nodded reassuringly.

"Have a good night, Mai. Sorry we beat you," she smiled. Mai scoffed.

"You're not sorry at all, but I don't mind. At least you two were the ones who scored the final point," she smiled despite herself, raising a hand in farewell before taking off after her husband and two sons.

Azula closed her eyes, sighing happily against Sokka's chest: he had taken to sitting against a tall rock, and Azula had joined him there. Then Hotaru had taken her seat by Azula's free side and Shun by Sokka's: Yuuna had climbed their laps, sitting with one small leg over each of their thighs… and by now, the three children, so energetic as they had been through the day, were exhausted and drained after so much fun on their first day of beach vacation. They had fallen asleep gradually, but by now it seemed they were so deeply unconscious that their parents would likely have to carry them into the house later… but only later. For now, they basked in the peaceful feeling of sitting together near that fire, with a dark but beautiful horizon spreading before them, with countless bright stars gleaming above them.

"Well… that was quite the start for this vacation, wasn't it?" Sokka smiled, glancing at Azula with a heartfelt smile. She grinned back, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. "Think we can keep up the momentum if there's more games later? We should never lose at kuai ball, you and me…"

"Won't be long before they realize what the true challenge will be, for us…" Azula said, softly. Sokka gasped, in feigned outrage.

"What… making us play in opposing teams?! Now, that's forbidden. Absolutely," he scoffed: Azula only laughed, pressing another kiss to his shoulder.

"If you get away with that, then yes, we'd definitely destroy anyone who plays against us. It goes without saying," she declared, raising her head towards him. Sokka offered her a wild grin before kissing her lips quickly.

"You're my every dream come true, Azula. You know that, right?" he asked, smiling fondly at his wife. She raised her head to kiss him again, prodding his nose with hers.

"You're my every dream come true too, Sokka, though… right now, one particular dream comes to mind," she admitted, raising her eyebrows. Sokka hummed.

"What's that?"

"Well…" Azula started, glancing about herself with uncertainty.

She had been in this beach, in this place, so many years ago. She had played with her brother, she had tried to gain more approval and attention from her parents here… yet even though time had colored the memories into much fonder recollections than they used to be, back when she'd lived them directly, she'd known no peace, no true happiness, in those days. Right now, gazing at her sleeping children, and then at the man she had raised them with, a spark of very familiar, overwhelming joy danced inside her chest, filling her with the certainty of having experienced, for as many years as they had been together, exactly what she had dreamt of, if subconsciously, since she was a child…

"I guess I always wanted to know what it felt like, being part of a happy family," Azula said, with a small smile. "Been ages since the question's been answered, of course… but in moments like these, it's like all the happiness is renewed and strengthened all over again. Doesn't matter how tired we are, doesn't matter how much trouble these three can get into… all of it is part of our happiness, just as well. I… I'm seriously proud of us. Of everything we've built, Sokka."

His affectionate smile melted her heart all the more, no matter how many times she'd seen it before: he pressed his brow to hers, and she released a breath, as though hoping to let out some of the overwhelming, blissful emotions that surged inside her chest that way…

"So am I, love," he said, softly. "I did know what it felt like, myself… being in a happy family, I mean. But this feels… it feels even better than anything ever did, in the past. Not just because of how much has changed, all over the world… but because I got to build this happy family of our own with you: there's no greater honor or happiness to be found in this world than that."

Azula smiled warmly, leaning in for another kiss that Sokka relinquished gladly. They'd head indoors soon, they couldn't stay out in this beach forever, before the flickering embers, underneath a starlit sky… even so, that moment they shared, the comfort of their embrace, in the company of their children, nestled in the ever-surging love that only strengthened further between them all, was but a crystallized instant of bliss that encompassed eternity.

[viacursecasting]

A Blooming Mistake.

{ Read on AO3 }

Summary: Sonic is hiding his hybrid roses, meant for someone special, but Shadow's determined to uncover the truth...

In a way rivals know best.

~

Radiant light of the full moon streaked through the leafy embraces of forest branches, illuminating freckles upon the well-trodden path for the cobalt quilled hero. His buckled cherry shoes crunched upon dried foliage as he ambled toward his destination. Normally he would’ve utilized his renowned speed, but he was wary of disturbing any critters peacefully slumbering in their nests. Even so, as he heard the pitter-patter of startled animals, he cupped the corner of his lip with a gloved hand, whispering apologies into the darkness.

As he clutched a shovel in one hand and a basket of rose stems in the other, he continued onward through mossy trees and flowering bushes until he reached a clearing, grassy and kempt, overlooking the vast sea, which stretched across the horizon to kiss the distant mountains. The serenade of gentle waves lapping against the cliffside soothed his upright ears. A spring breeze combed through his quills. He inhaled deeply, the aromatic scent filling his nostrils, the air so briny he could practically taste its salt upon his tongue. Moonlight reflected divinely across the waves, a sparkle rivaled only by his toothy grin. No matter how many times he trekked here, it always felt like the first.

Refreshed from admiring the landscape, he then glanced at the bundle of stems in hand. This species was a unique hybrid, one that bloomed crimson petals with ebony splatters. The hedgehog recalled the laborious hours he poured into growing these for weeks on end—planting monochrome roses adjacently, watering them each day, breeding the resulting hybrids into super hybrids, not to mention the painstaking chore of pulling out weeds and debris by burying his knees in the dirt. If the buds successfully bloomed, he would take it as a sign to pursue his crush. Was all this effort going to be worth it?

More importantly, could he handle the answer?

As he set the woven basket down he simply… stared. At nothing in particular. Why he couldn’t bring himself to start the final stage of planting the crossbred stems, he didn’t know. He groaned, rubbing his temples as if just now realizing what a ridiculous idea this was.

What are you doing here?

He thought his inner voice was berating him until his ears perked at the unmistakable sound of a familiar, confident gait.

“I said, what are you doing here?”

He swore his heart raced faster than his feet ever have as he peered into the forest, searching for the source of the low voice. Then, as if materializing from the shadows, a jet black lifeform stepped into view, his rosy highlights complementing his fiery gaze.

“Shadow?” The royal blue hedgehog blinked repeatedly to make sure his emerald eyes weren’t playing tricks on him from lack of sleep.

Once he realized this was no illusion, Sonic discreetly held the shovel behind his quills, subtly adjusting his footing to hide the basket at his heels. But there was no fooling his dark counterpart, who analyzed his body language suspiciously.

Shadow crossed his arms. His cool and collected tone sent chills down Sonic’s spine. “Don’t toy with me, hedgehog. What are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” Sonic blurted. “What are you hiding?”

The agent rolled his carmine eyes at the feeble attempt to deflect the question. As he took several steps closer he glanced toward his rocket skates, feeling the ground get considerably flatter, devoid of twigs and stones. He observed, “This clearing appears to have been tended to.”

Sonic laughed nervously. “Nature at its finest, I guess.”

“Is that so?” Shadow humored him. The closer he got to his parallel, the softer the earth felt with every step. “I suppose nature also watered this specific plot despite having no rain all week?”

Sonic glimpsed skyward, feigning a motion as if he felt a raindrop despite the unassuming clouds. “It could start pouring any minute. We should head back—”

He stifled a breath as Shadow, nose to nose with Sonic, scrutinized him as if he could find the answer in his irises, green as a hill zone. Suddenly he reached around Sonic’s waist, fingers brushing against the underside of his back spikes.

Sonic’s muzzle reddened intensely. “Wait, what are you—?”

Shadow seized the digging tool from his rival’s grip. “Look what we have here.” He chided with a smirk, “Shame on you, hedgehog. Wrecking the beauty of nature so you can play buried treasure.”

“This isn’t a game!” Sonic cried. “Now give that back!”

Shadow kept his foe at bay with an extended arm against his chest. As Sonic clawed the air in an attempt to retrieve the shovel just out of reach, the agent spotted the basket of greenery at Sonic’s contrasting sneakers. Shadow halted, curiosity getting the better of him as his counterpart finally yanked the tool from his grasp.

But that was the least of Shadow’s worries.

Before he could get a closer look inside the rattan basket, a glowing streak of cyan made it disappear and then reappear a few feet away in Sonic’s grip.

Shadow glared at the speedster, at first with annoyance. Why would he hide a few measly plants? Then it dawned on him. Slowly his expression turned into one of horror, staring wide-eyed at the so-called hero.

But Sonic paid no mind as he refused to make eye contact, red with embarrassment. He could practically feel that scarlet gaze burning his azure fur. “Please, Shadow. Just go home.”

“Sonic.”

Shadow said it with such bleeding concern that his sapphire twin regarded him. Aghast, the ebony hedgehog paled as if he’d seen a ghost, troubling Sonic. “Stop looking at me like that, Shads. You’re scaring me.”

Shadow ignored the request. “Is that what I think it is?”

Sonic tightened his clammy grip on the wicker handle. “What do you think it is?”

Shadow’s hesitation was brief, as if his hypothesis would somehow become true if he voiced his suspicions. “Performance-enhancing drugs.”

Sonic laughed at the notion. He had never touched a drug let alone taken one. He wasn’t even sure he knew what one looked like. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“That’s why you’ve been so secretive,” Shadow mulled distantly, rubbing his fingers under his chin as if he solved the case. “Either you plan on outperforming me, or you’ve been taking these to get on my level.”

Sonic’s expression twisted into one of confusion. “What? No! You’ve got it all wrong!”

Shadow remained skeptical, requiring proof. His eyes bore into his foe like daggers stained crimson. “Then hand it over,” he demanded, the golden power inhibitor on his wrist gleaming menacingly around his outstretched hand.

Sonic’s heart seized at the thought. His fingers clenched the woven handle so tightly he nearly bled. He swallowed before replying, “I can’t.”

Neither of them wavered. Not even the void’s icy breeze could make them flinch. Was that the wind or Sonic’s internal cry for help?

Then Shadow sighed, tightening his gloves as if foreseeing this outcome. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

In a flash he leapt forward, trailing an amber aura in his wake. Sonic’s mind deconstructed the act in slow motion, perceiving Shadow’s feet leave the ground, his limbs curl into a ball, his attack home in on Sonic’s beating organ.

Sonic dropped his possessions, steeling himself to block the spindash with crossed arms, the force so powerful his heels dug trenches in the dirt. He grunted with the effort of holding Shadow off as the high-pitched rev of the spinball deafened his ears. It was like preventing a screeching tire from burning rubber on his vitals.

Seeing as this was getting him nowhere, Shadow performed a backflip, landing gracefully on his feet. “Hmph. I’m just warming up.”

Sonic chuckled, stretching his legs like a marathon runner in a show of confidence. “Sure thing, faker,” he emphasized, knowing this would warrant some aggression.

Shadow couldn’t help but clench his fist with ire, drawing his arm back before zooming forward with a punch.

The blue blur easily sidestepped to dodge but Shadow expected this, extending another blow at the last second, hitting his opponent square in the jaw.

Sonic reeled back, more out of shock than pain, rubbing the soreness away. Regardless, he found himself smiling. It wasn’t often he brawled someone who matched his abilities. After crushing laughable badniks for days on end, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t itching for some excitement. “Lucky shot.”

“Calculated shot,” the agent corrected. “Are you as slow in the brain as you are with your feet?”

Sonic gasped dramatically, tossing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Alas! You have discovered my fatal flaw!” He bowed humbly. “Teach me, O Wise One.”

Just as Sonic was about to straighten, his opposer kneed him in the abdomen. He doubled over with a groan, sinking to his knees.

“Lesson one,” Shadow advised, “never let your guard down.”

In his kneeling position, Sonic took the opportunity to grab Shadow’s ankle and yank him to the dirt, knocking the wind out of him as he landed on his back. Shadow coughed, attempting to regain control of his lungs as Sonic loomed over him, boasting, “Lesson two, surpass the master.”

Shadow sprung to his feet. Meanwhile Sonic revved up into a concussive ball, billowing dust, and charged forward to knock over his contender like a bowling pin. But Shadow performed a handless frontflip like a gold-medal gymnast, easily dodging it.

“Chaos Spear!”

Upon hearing Shadow’s battle cry, Sonic serpentined throughout the clearing to avoid numerous bolts of energy the agent’s palms emitted. But no matter how quickly Shadow fired, Sonic managed to evade every shot by a hair.

At one point the blue blur skidded to a halt, and suddenly a glowing spear jutted out of a tree right before his face.

Sonic let out a nervous chuckle, grateful to still have a nose. “Someone’s getting antsy.”

He ducked in the nick of time to avoid a jet-boosted roundhouse kick to the head. Sonic then swept his leg to trip his assailant, but to no avail as Shadow leapt high into the air, backlit by the witnessing moon, before clasping his hands together to pummel Sonic into the ground.

CRUUUSH!

The hero narrowly somersaulted clear, shaking dirt from his quills. When he looked up to see the crater Shadow formed with his fists, his stomach churned. “Whoa, Shads, take it easy!”

Tired of this dance, the lifeform was tempted to execute a Chaos Blast right then and there, but instead he sneered, “Not until I get what I want.”

He dashed forward. His parallel instinctively did the same. However, a vine caught Sonic’s toe, hurtling him straight into Shadow. The hedgehogs were a mass of flailing punches and kicks, their limbs a blur as their tangled bodies rolled in the grass like a prickly tumbleweed.

Their careening stopped dead in its tracks as Shadow straddled Sonic, their panting faces inches apart, their arms wrestling for dominance with Shadow’s fists against Sonic’s palms.

Through grunts, Sonic tried to reason with him. “Okay, Shadow… hff… This was fun at first… hff… but now—” He cried out as his wrists bent at a dangerous angle.

“It was never a game, Sonic.” Using gravity to his advantage, Shadow pushed harder.

Pain shot through Sonic’s arms. “Shadow, stop!” he pleaded, his biceps nearly giving out. “It’s not what you think!”

Shadow snarled, his fangs gleaming like dual blades. “Don’t lie to me!”

Sonic’s muscles screamed. He didn’t remember his counterpart being this strong, didn’t understand where such passion was coming from. “Why are you so worked up?”

“I won’t let you destroy yourself!”

Shadow’s guttural cry echoed throughout the crisp air, followed by a chorus of flapping from retreating crows. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he almost wished Sonic would run away, too, as he shut his eyes tight to suppress his hot tears.

Witnessing such raw emotion made Sonic yield, letting Shadow pin his wrists to the dirt beside his spiky head. Though Sonic took shallow breaths, his peach torso still brushed against his rival’s ivory chest fur, soft and full, making his back spines prickle. “If it matters so much to you,” Sonic relented, “then you can take what’s in the basket.”

No sense of victory hailed Shadow as he sulked from revealing a shred of vulnerability. Instead a numbness washed over him like a waterfall. He crawled off the sapphire hedgehog, taking a few steps to retrieve what he thought was a performance-enhancing substance. But what he found was much more tame.

Perplexed, Shadow inspected a leafy stalk carefully. “These look like rose stems.”

As Sonic stood to brush grass off his quills, he could feel his face grow warm, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “That’s because they are rose stems, genius.” He almost laughed. This was G.U.N.’s best agent?

It still didn’t add up. “Why were you hiding these from me?” When Sonic failed to answer, Shadow read his flustered face instead. “Are they intended for Amy?” Sonic shook his head. “Blaze?” Another shake. “Knuckles? You are aware he’s in love with a rock—”

“It’s you!” Sonic blurted, immediately slapping his palm over his mouth. He had to say something—he felt as if he were going to explode any second. But the regret was instant. He wanted to be cremated right then and there and have his ashes flung over the cliff into the depths of the sea below, dissolving into nothingness.

Shadow was taken aback but quickly composed himself, clearing his throat. “I see. Yellow roses?” he surmised, knowing that this flower hue symbolized a strong bond among friends.

“No,” Sonic replied, downcast. There was no point in lying anymore. “They’re a hybrid. Black for eternity and red for luh—! …Ove.”

That last word caught in his throat, so foreign on his tongue. Unconsciously he rambled, desperate for some sense of control again. “I thought that maybe once these bloomed, I’d have the courage to… ask you out.”

Shadow had difficulty masking his bewilderment. He opened his mouth as if to say something but failed to express a coherent thought, unable to recall the last time someone rendered him speechless.

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, elaborating, “I know it’s stupid. Even though you get on my nerves, you also… get me, you know?” He reminisced over the moments they were forced to team up against a greater evil, racing side by side, occasionally stealing sidelong glances at each other.

Then images of the Finalhazard flashed in his mind, followed by the harrowing sight of Shadow plummeting to his supposed death. “When I thought I would never see you again, it made me realize I had taken you for granted.”

I should just stop talking, Sonic told himself. But his lips betrayed him. “Since then, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

What are you doing? “I mean, look at your speed. Your strength. Everything about you screams danger.”

Shut. Up. “But instead of running away from you, why is my heart telling me—”

Shut up shut up shut up!

He growled, yelling over his thoughts, “—to run with you!?”

Sonic was practically on the verge of a cardiac arrest. His breath was short, his ears were numb. He felt as if an anchor pulled him by the pit of his chest to claim him as part of the earth’s core. He expected a witty comeback. A kick to the stomach. Anything! But what he got was worse. Shadow stared at Sonic as intently as a sniper through the lens of his scope. As pervasive as a bullet, what really killed Sonic was the silence.

Sonic shook his head to clear his mind. It was all so ridiculous, devoting so much time and effort and emotion to someone who couldn’t care less. “But it doesn’t matter.” He hastily gathered his belongings and began to head homeward. “Clearly you don’t feel the same way so let’s just move on and pretend none of this ever happened—”

“Wait.”

Sonic froze, feeling Shadow’s grip around the crook of his elbow. His heartbeat pounded so incessantly he thought his eardrums would burst. “Yeah?”

The crimson-eyed hedgehog averted his gaze, though Sonic thought he spotted a faint rosy tint across his tan muzzle. “It appears as though your sentiments mirror mine.”

Cogs slowly turned in Sonic’s mind, trying to process the confession. But then he laughed in denial. “Come on, Shads. You’re not serious.”

Shadow squeezed Sonic’s arm in affirmation, finally locking his ruby irises with his counterpart’s emeralds.

Fixated, Sonic read no hesitation, no amusement in that scorching gaze, straight as a gun barrel. That’s when he knew Shadow was indeed telling the truth.

It finally clicked. Then Sonic turned bright red, realizing just how close Shadow was standing, feeling his warm breath on his lips.

Shadow stroked Sonic’s cheek with the back of a curled finger, a touch that was extra gentle in case he miscalculated his own strength, before resting it under Sonic’s chin to slightly crane his neck. The agent found his blush quite endearing, and being its trigger was icing on the cake. They were in such close proximity that Shadow could breathe in his admirer’s scent, sweet as freshly cut grass. Shadow’s blood pumped so madly he thought Sonic could hear it. He briefly wondered if he would ever get used to the hero’s presence. Perhaps he would find out at a later date.

If so, it would be a date to die for.

With slowly lidding eyes, Shadow leaned in, parting his lips just as their muzzles were a quill’s breadth apart—

“Shadow, come in!” urged an electronic voice.

The hedgehogs jumped out of their trances. Shadow cursed under his breath, realizing the command came from his wrist communicator. He pressed a button as he spoke into it. “Yes, Rouge?”

“You’re supposed to report every hour so we know you’re safe while patrolling,” his bat coworker scolded.

Shadow grimaced. “I can take care of myself.”

“It’s just a precaution,” Rouge stated. “In any case, that cheery attitude of yours lets me know you’re fine. Bye~!” The call ended with a beep.

A forlorn sigh escaped Shadow’s lips, the moment officially tainted.

But with his ever-present smile, Sonic brushed off any disappointment he may have had. “You should get back to work.”

Shadow glared at the blue hedgehog, feigning annoyance. “This area is well within my jurisdiction, and I haven’t finished inspecting it,” he claimed, watching Sonic’s grin grow wider, so contagious he wore a hint of a smile himself. He then graciously took the shovel from Sonic’s grasp, walking toward the primed plot. “Come. I hate leaving a job unfinished.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Care taking ideas:

Person A steadying Person B as they try to stand/walk

A: Alan B: Scott.

Tumble

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Alan, Scott

I feel like I’ve written a lot of Scott&Alan recently, but any excuse to have a little brother looking after Scott is a good one in my books :D

Fluffy Prompt Generator

Alan was the youngest.  He hated it when it was pointed out, because normally when his age came into things it was accompanied by the words ‘too young’.  He hated it because it meant his brothers tried to sugar-coat anything they could get away with, so he could keep his ‘childhood’ just a little while longer.

He wasn’t so young anymore that he didn’t realise certain older brothers had lost their childhood way younger than the age he was now.  (He was still too young to realise that was why they were so insistent on his).

Smother hens masquerading as older brothers, a grand total of up to four, depending on how much of a Responsible Big Brother Gordon felt like being, as opposed to the Fun Big Brother Alan much preferred him as, meant that he was quite successfully shielded from a lot of things.  Not so much that he wasn’t vaguely aware of them, but there were sights he didn’t see.

Being the only brother on the island when Scott tripped and fell down the stairs from the den to the kitchen in hunt of something edible while Thunderbird One refuelled between busy missions (which Alan was not involved in, because none of them needed Thunderbird Three and once again his eldest brothers were brandishing his slipping homework in front of him and ordering him to pick up the slack or be grounded until the summer holidays), Alan found himself witness to one such occasion he was normally kept far away from.

The fact that Scott didn’t immediately pick himself up and keep going had Alan ignoring the homework - and the alarm John had tagged on him for leaving the table without authorisation, because yes they had decided to be that strict about it today - and running for the unmoving form of his biggest brother.

“Scott?”

The groan he got promised consciousness, at least, even if that made it even more worrying that Scott wasn’t moving.

“Scott!”  He leaned over him, tapping his cheek and watching in relief as blue eyes blinked open.

“Urgh,” his brother mumbled, clearly taking a moment to register where he was and what had happened.  “Alan?”

“Where are you hurt?”  He had to be, if he wasn’t already up and pretending it hadn’t happened.  Scott blinked at him.

“I’m not hurt,” he said.  Denied.  Alan might not be an adult, but he knew Scott well enough to know there was no way he’d still be lying on the floor if he wasn’t hurt.  He sent his best disbelieving glare at his brother.

“Sure you’re not,” he retorted when Scott didn’t fess up.  “Tell me or I’m calling John.”

John, who was no doubt gearing up to berate him for abandoning his homework the moment he got a moment to spare.  It wouldn’t be long before his second eldest brother piped up anyway.

“Alan-” Scott started, finally starting to shift and getting his hands beneath him in a way that had Alan’s eyes narrowing.  Scott didn’t normally need to push himself up with his hands; none of them did.  They were all too in-shape for that.

He tapped at his wrist.  “Last chance, Scott.”  Grandma was also in the house, and as soon as he called John, he’d be calling for her, too.

Scott stopped his denial, eyes honing in on the comm as though it was a threat.  Well, that wasn’t wrong.  Another moment of silence was all it took for Alan to bring up the link to Thunderbird Five and-

“My ankle,” Scott admitted.  First aid training kicked in and Alan instantly moved to assess it.  His brother hadn’t specified which one, but now he knew what he was looking for he could see in Scott’s movements that the left was being favoured.

“Let me see,” he insisted, batting Scott’s hands away as his brother resignedly stayed sat down.  A gentle probe had Scott obviously fighting to recoil, and Alan rolled his eyes.  “I don’t think you’re going back out on that rescue, bro,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Scott told him.  “Some ice and it’ll be good as new.”

Who he thought he was fooling with that, Alan had no idea.  It certainly wasn’t him.

“I’m getting a scanner and we’ll see,” he said.  “But I’m not leaving you at the bottom of the stairs for Grandma to trip over.  Come on.”

That time, Scott did recoil, some stupid big brother pride rebelling against the idea of being helped to stand by his youngest brother, but he was cornered against the stairs and with an eyeroll, Alan caught his arms.

“Up you get,” he said, shifting until he had Scott’s left arm across his shoulders and his own arm around his back.

“I can stand by myself,” his brother grumbled, but it seemed that Alan having hold of him was enough to stop him trying to get away.  Either that, or his ankle was a lot more painful than he was letting on.

It wouldn’t surprise Alan if that was the case.

“Nope.”  It took some effort, especially with the height difference, but he managed to get his brother to his feet.  Now, where to take him?  The breakfast stools dotted around were perfectly shaped for Scott to simply slip off the moment his back was turned, so they were out, but the kitchen wasn’t particularly conducive for lounging around-

Lounging.

He eyed the loungers by the pool.  Thunderbird One wasn’t going to be launching any time soon - Alan was under no illusions about being allowed to take Scott’s place - and if Scott was laying down... It might just take him an extra few seconds to get up.

Plus, it would elevate the ankle a little.

“This way,” he coaxed, bracing himself as Scott stumbled, clearly caught out at the change of direction.

“Where are we going?” his brother asked, confusion lacing his voice as Alan led him towards the pool.

“Mind the step,” Alan answered, helping him down to the patio.  “You need to put that ankle up.”

He saw the moment clarity struck.  Scott attempting to dig his heels in had something to do with that, but with one ankle out of action and Alan still directing forwards motion, he had little choice but to follow.

Sometimes, Alan appreciated John’s love of simple physics.

“Sit,” he ordered, nudging him down onto the nearest lounger and scooping his brother’s legs up to make sure he settled on it properly.  “And stay, or I’ll get Grandma.”

That close to the kitchen, it was a threat.

Whether it was enough of a threat to get Scott to obey, however, remained to be seen.

The answer was apparently yes, as Alan returned from his dash to the infirmary - pausing to update John out of Scott’s earshot, who rolled his eyes and obligingly turned off the ‘Alan do your homework’ alarm at his valid reason for not doing it right then - to find Scott was still there.

Scott was also, somehow, asleep, as though the act of laying down on a lounger was the last push he’d needed to get some rest.  Alan wondered if he’d have fallen down the stairs if he’d slept a little earlier.

Probably not.

Careful not to disturb him, he ran the scan.

Just a sprain.  To be safe, he scanned his head, too - all clear; no concussion, just plain exhaustion.  He could let Scott sleep a while longer before summoning Grandma to deal with the ankle.

Satisfied, he retreated long enough to snatch his homework before relocating next to his brother to get on with it.  And if his new location meant he got to enjoy some peaceful time in the sun with a sleeping brother, well, that was just a bonus.

[joonsdiary]

jamais vu (m)

↳ noun | the illusion that the familiar is being encountered for the first time.

                                                                                            (are you the remedy to my broken heart?)

pairing: jungkook | reader | taehyung genre: slice of life au, acquaintances to friends (to lovers?) au // heaps of angst, a tiny bit of smut, a sprinkle of fluff word count: 13,4k

— warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, hints of gaslighting, mild descriptions of a panic attack, themes of infidelity, sexual intercourse (protected penetrative sex, implied female masturbation) 

— note: mildly inspired by the films lost in translation and ocean waves, as well as jamais vu by bts (hence the title). some concepts were derived from my wip list, so in a way this was my remedy for the writer’s block i was having while writing ‘worth fighting for’. i hope in one way or another it can be your remedy, too. (p.s. despite being inspired by lost in translation, i haven’t actually seen the film so this won’t be exactly like that adkjhsd)

— playlist: carry me home - jorja smith ft. maverick sabre / sweet insomnia - gallant ft. 6lack / drew barrymore - sza / run - joji / truth is - sabrina claudio / bath - offonoff / ghostin - ariana grande / ... etc!

     There’s something thrilling about sitting in the backseat of a car past midnight, windows rolled down as the driver chases the destination planted on her navigation device. You welcome the cool breeze that tangles your hair into an uncomfortable mess, as it only helps propel your heart rate faster. Inhaling slowly allows you to savour the musky scent of the earth shortly after being bathed with rainwater; if this is what freedom tastes like, you wish to savour as much of it as you could.

Eventually, the exhilaration wears down as the city lights blur into a cacophony of colours. It’s incoherent and indiscernible, yet it possesses the ability to lull you into a dream-like state. You had the utmost privilege of plugging your phone into the aux cord, therefore the familiar voice of your recently played songstress croons softly against the speaker, filling the cold, void spaces in between. Your heavy eyelids fall into an accustomed pattern, gradually flickering until it closes shut.

Sleep beckons; fatigue welcomes you into the abyss, and you embrace it with open arms.

Well, almost.

“Can you roll the windows up? It’s freezing,” he mumbles as he sinks further down the leather chair. You jolt awake at his sudden announcement, but he doesn’t apologize for disturbing your calmness.

“Hm? Yeah, of course,” your fingers scramble to find the right button to press until the tempered glass lifts, shielding you away from the busy city. You want to argue that it’s not even that cold, but he scoots closer towards you, tugging on your left arm before burying his head in the crook of your neck.

A wistful sigh escapes your lips and you turn to place a quick kiss on his crown. You immediately understand the exhaustion that plagues you both, brought about by the time difference between the country you came from and the one you’re currently visiting. You glance out the window once more as your thumb plays with the golden band on your ring finger.

Seoul is beautiful. The city itself is alive, evident by the way the summer stars in the night sky are dimmed by the light that emits from the numerous buildings and towers that create Seoul’s skyline. Looking at it from above while on a plane is similar to peeking at a telescope to view a galaxy far away, dotted by billions of brilliant stars. But despite the breathtaking aerial view, nothing feels more intimate than weaving through its streets.

Although you can tell its old roads are recently refurbished, unsurprisingly, which buries any inkling of familiarity beneath the cold cement. Despite you knowing the place, there’s still something different about it, like buying a new laptop to replace the old one. The specs are guaranteed to be exactly like its predecessor, but the fact that it comes in a sleek box, still unspoiled and untouched, fascinates you all the same. It begs to be used until you’re so attached to it that you refuse to part ways even just for a singular moment. That’s what defines Seoul for you.

But the city can wait. There will be plenty of opportunities to explore and rekindle your love affair with the town you once called your home. For now, your reason for being lays cradled within your arms, encapsulated within the bubble you desperately wish would stay intact, unmarred by the destructive forces of reality.

Although those illusions of fantasy can only take you so far. The fragility of your relationship is beginning to materialize into a spectre, its gaunt face haunting you in every corner you look. There’s no escaping the truth as it will, without a fail, catch you in one form or the other.

“What are you thinking about?” he hums lazily, soft breath tickling the nape of your neck.

“Just excited to finally be back after so long.”

“That’s right, you moved away long before I did.”

“Mhm.”

The discussion flickers out of existence, whose life is shorter than that of a fire in measly matchstick. You aren’t much of a conversationalist, and you appreciate that neither is he. Is that the defining trait that convinced you to marry the man sitting next to you three years ago? Perhaps. You like that he gives you the time and space to bask in your thoughts when you need it, even if there are moments where you’d like nothing more than to connect with him like you used to.

“I miss you,” slips out before you’re able to hold your tongue back. But you don’t scramble to reclaim the words like you usually do, followed by an apologetic I didn’t mean it like that. You let the phrase simmer, hoping it will soak him to the bones enough that it becomes his wake up call.

But, “I’m right here,” is all he says.

The him-of-past would have cradled your face in his big hands, turned you so that you’re face to face before he makes a silly face that will make you laugh. He’ll say you’re being silly for even thinking of such thoughts when he’s always been by your side, and forever will be. It will follow one chaste kiss, then a second, and before you could blink his limbs will tangle with yours, hearts beating fast but in unison, nonetheless.

“I know,” you murmur.

Perhaps he believes it’s enough that he’s there beside you, physically. Perhaps it’s wise to presume the same. It’s only wishful thinking to expect otherwise, after all.

    Jungkook believes he’s a creature of habit. Or, he used to be, at least.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with falling into a certain pattern in life, especially at his age; God knows he needs a stable rock to hold on to so he doesn’t get carried away by the raging currents of the river.

But it had only been once upon a time where he enjoyed such endeavours; waking up, coming down to work, going back up to bathe, before finally retiring to bed. Yes, he’ll find pockets of time to eat meals, of course. Days come when he has the freedom to choose to go to the gym, instead, so his life isn’t completely mundane. There’s a nuance to such life, and he always aspires to have the propensity and the undeterred tenacity to stick to such a strict regimen.

However, days began to bleed into each other with the same shade of grey, indiscernible and incomprehensible. It’s not necessarily a lousy experience because he never felt starved or threatened out of his home. Life for him is like cruising down the endless highway, foot off the gas but going at one hundred kilometres per hour all the same. The figures he passes by become obscured by the speed he’s going at, but at the very least he’s still heading somewhere.

It’s only recently he’s fully realized the futility of his mundane schedule. She’d told him so.

“Don’t you want to break away from all of that? From your parents’ expectations of you?” her voice comes softly through the phone. His moments together with her are often brief and hurried, their conversations cut short by external forces acting upon them both. It’s dinnertime for him, but she has to drop the call in order to catch the early bus for work. Such a prick, time and distance can be.

(Perhaps, he now looks back and thinks to himself, they’re merely trying to find more reason to converse less with each other. Since when did it start, the feeling of obligation?)

“Are you suggesting that I—”

She says yes without letting him finish his sentence.

So he finds vigour in his life once more as he throws himself into his work, constantly propelled forwards by the need to meet an end goal: Save up enough to be able to move halfway across the world. To see her. To be with her.

But the respite is brief, however.

The more money is stored in his bank account, the less he thinks of the idea as brilliant. Is he ready to uproot his life from the only home he knows to move in with somebody he has only met through the screen of his phone?

Looking at the bigger picture, nothing else has changed in his life. He needs a true break; a real step back from a routine that is numerous years in the making.

Having sex with a stranger in a random motel seems like a good way to go about it, he thinks.

Several hours prior, his friends asked him to go out drinking with them. Jungkook, who rarely makes time for such occurrences, naturally agrees, surprising the very same acquaintances that invited him. At that point he believes they’re only asking to be polite, not having the courage to kick him out of an old group chat formed during their college days. They never expected him to say yes then, and they didn’t until now.

Countless bottles of beer and a few shots of liquor later, he’s fumbling with the zipper of his tight jeans. The woman, whose name he didn’t have the courtesy of asking, giggles as she rises from the bed to approach him.

Mistake number one.

“Do you need help, love?”

He fumbles through his words, unable to form a coherent thought. It’s not that he’s completely inexperienced — although the woman probably thinks he is by the way he acts — it’s just that, admittedly, it’s been a good while since he’d had sex with anybody. Add the nervousness to his inebriated state, and he’s got himself in quite the dilemma.

Mistake number two.

“I’m guessing you like them tight,” the woman points out.

“Huh?” his head whips towards the woman, eyes wide and mouth agape, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Your jeans, I mean.”

The woman chuckles once again as he attempts to peel the fabric off his skin. “Wasn’t really planning on this, that’s why.”

Mistake number three.

“But you have this,” an inconspicuous packet is pulled from his back pocket. Jungkook merely grins sheepishly in response. The woman kneels as she grips his underwear but he grabs her hand and pulls her up instead, crashing her body into his. He recalls her murmuring something about getting straight to the point, but he’s unsure if the woman meant it as a complaint or a compliment. He didn’t bother asking to elaborate, because none of this is even supposed to happen.

Mistake number four.

Guilt bubbles from within his chest, gnawing at every nook and cranny of his consciousness.

Mistake number five.

He’d have to tell her sooner rather than later. It would be fucking shitty of him not to. But before he has the time to steer clear of trouble and save himself from potentially ruining the only good thing he has going in his life, the woman’s lips are on him. There’s no going back now, he assumes.

Mistake number six, seven, eight.

Nine: His kiss feels famished as he drinks in each quiet moan that comes out of the woman’s lips. Every second feels reinvigorating like he’s sitting in front of the roller coaster as the ride pauses before the first drop. When the wheels turn and roll against the metal railroad track, he stumbles back and falls into the bed. He’s here for the thrill, which would bring the total up to ten so far.

Eleven is when he watches the woman slip the condom with ease, sheathing him. His presumed experience she possesses excites him further; that is number twelve.

He loses count when she traps him between her knees as she licks two of her fingers at once, before hiking up her skirt.

Jungkook wants to laugh at his lack of perceptiveness. Tactless when it comes to asking for the woman’s name; even more inadequate and impolite not to think about prepping her.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, head tilting to the side as wisps of her hair fall across her face as she grinds herself against him. He bites back a moan as he looks away from her. It probably would be best not to tell her. He then catches his reflection in the mirror, and despite the dimmed lights he could outline the expression he’s making; a reflection of someone unrecognizable.

“There’s a mirror,” he pauses as she gets a hold of him, her warmth enveloping him as she slowly sinks onto him. His hips jerk seemingly involuntarily in response, and she groans, tossing her head backwards. He forgets to speak altogether. The woman does the same, opting to mumble profanity, instead.

Jungkook wishes to hide the shame and guilt, the wrongfulness, the missed opportunities to say no. Is his need to feel something other than the heaviness of his heart worth all the pain he’s about to put not only himself but the person he wishes to spend the rest of his life with?

And so he buries himself deeper before denial could even stake a claim in the vast expanse of his thoughts. If to forget is to lose himself in the pleasure of someone else’s company, then he’ll desperately seek the ecstasy he’s craved for so long until he’ll see stars beneath the darkness of his eyelids.

His breathing is no longer erratic when he comes into consciousness.

“That was good,” she breathes out softly, and he turns in time to watch her brown eyes disappear from view.

“I have to go.”

He gets up from the bed and begins to move on autopilot, picking up his discarded clothes one by one. The woman immediately sits up and asks with an evident frown on her face, “Already? Didn’t you have fun?”

The corners of his lips are pulled upwards into a grin. “It’s for work.”

“At this hour? It’s almost one.”

“Midnight shift.”

When he’s dressed, he hesitates at the foot of the bed, shifting weight from one leg to the other. He’s never been the best with words, and his unexpectedly expected tryst with a stranger leaves him at a loss for what to say. It doesn’t help that the woman refuses to meet gaze with him.

I wouldn’t want to look at me either, he thinks bitterly to himself.

“Thank you for your time. I hope to see you around,” his half-truth is enough to pluck a rueful smile from her lips.

The bus ride back home is the longest one Jungkook thinks he’s taken ever since he moved to Seoul.

    You watch as Taehyung lazily drags his feet behind him each step he takes towards the bed and breakfast place you decided to rent. The cicadas chatter loudly as if to cheer him on. A few more steps, they urge.

“Come on, Taehyung,” you groan from above the stairs, already reaching the top long before he does. “I’m about to pass out, too. But can we do it once we get to the bed?”

“I’m literally, like, dead,” you can’t help the roll of your eyes at his dramatic statement. But you hold your tongue back at any other snide comments that might offend him further. Patience is the key with him, always. Complaining to him, as you did earlier, will only force him to act against your wishes.

He reaches the top with a huff and a hand on his bent knees, handing you the duffel bag that’s filled to the brim with your clothes and his.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” is your attempt at making the situation lighthearted and less serious than it needs to be.

“Still should have booked a hotel, instead,” his nose scrunches in obvious dismay.

“For the last time, I thought—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” gone is the Taehyung of previous, whose tiredness begins with softness around his personality. It’s not unusual for him to get cranky after being jet-lagged. But hey, guess what, so are you!

You ignore him for fear of escalation as you make your way inside. A quiet chime of the bell signals your arrival, and your gaze meets a familiar set of doe eyes; someone you knew once upon a time in a place you can pinpoint exactly. His expression mirrors that of your surprised one as he tries to figure you out. It wouldn’t surprise you if he doesn’t recognize you as you did him.

It’s Taehyung who breaks your state of bewitchment when his shoulder bumps into your arms as he jogs towards the receiving desk.

“Hey, stranger! How long has it been?” Taehyung exclaims a little too loudly, his state of disarray seemingly vanishing in a flash. With the roll of your luggage as a guide, you follow after him, standing nimbly behind the shadow of his confidence.

“Since we graduated high school? Probably ten years,” he says humorously.

“That long, huh? Damn.”

They fall into a small talk which is somewhat out of sync, which is understandable considering the amount of time they haven't been in contact with each other. No matter how close they had been during their teenage years, some words are hard to come by more than others.

He suddenly calls your name out in a greeting, and you peak over Taehyung’s shoulder with a small wave of your hand. “Hey, Jungkook.”

His smile is gentle, and your mood shifts entirely.

“Are you back here on a trip?”

It’s clear the question was directed to you, but Taehyung absolves you the courtesy of answering. “Actually, it’s a work-related thing. She wanted to tag along.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” you say with a strained chuckle, and Jungkook glances between you and Taehyung.

“Ah, I see. In any case, I’ll get out of your hair,” he slides a pair of keys in your direction. “It’s well past midnight, so I’m sure you guys are tired from your flight.”

Taehyung snatches it up, and it falls into the pocket of his slacks with a soft jingle. He thanks him with enthusiasm before turning towards the direction of the elevator.

“Hope I see you around. Have good night.”

Something about your greeting has Jungkook’s eyebrows creasing in discomfort for a split second before he gives you a small nod. “I’ll be here if you need anything else.”

But he isn’t there to greet patrons by the next morning when you go down for your complimentary breakfast. Taehyung did not join you, opting for an extended hour of sleep. You didn’t mind, but you couldn’t lay aimless in bed for too long; you’ve always been a morning person, after all.

So you sit by your lonesome in the vast dining area, surrounded by an old couple in one corner and a young family of four in the other. The two children fight for the last remaining pancake while the parents share a hushed discussion. You glance down at your warm abalone porridge.

There was a time when you imagined such a life with Taehyung—a family you can call your own. Of course, it’s by no means too late for you; at the tender age of twenty-eight, you know that life still has a lot to offer. But approaching three years into your marriage, Taehyung does not present any hints of wanting such a future with you. Sure, the topic has been brought about occasionally, but never serious enough to be considered anything but a passing daydream.

“I hate to break it to you, but that soup isn’t going to give you the answers to your most pressing question, even if you stare at it like that.”

You look up to see Jungkook wearing an amused expression, carrying a plastic bag on his right hand. He follows your trail of gaze and lifts the item into view.

“I might have raided the kitchen before my shift is over. Don’t tell a single soul,” his gaze holds differently, but the smile he wears is the same one from his youth.

“Cross my heart,” you humour him, and his grin grows wider. “Have a safe trip home.”

His nose wrinkles in contemplation. “If you mean be careful going up the stairs to my room, then sure, I will.”

Your brows lift in confusion, “You rent here?”

“You could say that. I own this place,” the chair scrapes against the tiled floors as he welcomes himself into your bubble. “Well, sort of. My parents own this, but my older brother and I manage it.”

“You should have said so earlier!” you chuckle, placing your chin on your palm as you turn to face him. “I would have asked for a discount.”

“Ouch, this is exactly why I didn’t do that in the first place. It’s opportunists like you that I’m terrified of.”

“Okay, Richie Rich, I knew you were always a selfish prick even then.”

“Hah!” he exclaims, leaning closer. “I’m well aware of my reputation back then, and none of them was ‘selfish’. In fact, there was always a lot of me to go around.”

“I highly doubt that, somehow.”

“You wouldn’t know,” he says in a casual tone while crossing his arms in front of his chest. He gives you a knowing look. “You were always with Taehyung.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” you mumble against your palm, your voice growing quiet. Your ring suddenly feels heavy on your finger.

“Mhm, that’s why I wasn’t surprised when I heard you two got married a few years back. In another country, no less. Congratulations, by the way,” his tone softens, mirroring your sudden predisposition for a hushed conversation.

“Thank you,” you give him a genuine smile. “Married life is…”

“Different?” he offers, and you nod wordlessly. You would’ve chosen a different word for it, but you’re glad he finished the sentence for you. “All my other friends who’re in the same situation say so.”

“And you?”

He wears the same troubled expression from hours ago, but only for a brief moment. He mimics your posture as his face lights up with the biggest smile you’ve seen him wear. You know that expression; there was a point in time where you’d wear the same elated look when someone asks you about Taehyung.

“Long-distance. But we’ve been together for a couple of years,” he hesitates briefly, before continuing. “I’m leaving in less than two weeks to move in with her.”

“Where to?”

He reveals the name in a hushed tone, almost as if it’s meant to stay a secret between the two of you.

Your eyes widen with bewilderment, and he grins sheepishly. “Wow, that’s—”

“Halfway across the world? I know.”

It’s only when there’s a pause that you realize what your intended purpose is. So you dig a spoonful of the soup and chase the heat away with a quick blow before taking a quick bite.

“You’re really here just to tag along with Taehyung?”

You look at him in surprise, not expecting the subject to be brought out once again. “Not really. We um…”

You hesitate, unsure whether to share your thoughts or not. But Jungkook is neither a friend nor a stranger and is possibly the perfect candidate. There’s nothing that binds you to him and in a few weeks, you’d be back to being strangers. Perhaps he wouldn’t even remember your story.

“We didn’t really have an official honeymoon after our marriage, and this was supposed to be it,” you chuckle, trying to play the situation off nonchalantly. “He sort of double-booked because he couldn’t turn down this gig.”

“That seems shitty, to be honest.”

You’re taken aback by the ruggedness of his tone, and you immediately jump to defend Taehyung. “It’s fine, honestly. It’s been a while since I’ve been back home.”

“Yeah, you missed out on our high school reunion just by a month,” his aura is lighthearted once more, and you’re glad for it.

“You went?”

“Nah, there was nothing good to reminisce about high school.”

You turn to him with your mouth agape. “This is coming from the captain of the football team, Jeon Jungkook?”

“Ah, come on, stop with the teasing,” he says as he rolls his shoulder back, before clearing his throat. “It just so happened that I was good at kicking. And running. And scoring goals.”

Undeterred by his boasting, you give him a sly smirk. “I’m sure you revelled in the attention. There was enough of you to get around, you said?”

“Now you get it.”

You giggle and he laughs along with you. The interaction gives you a certain heaviness within your chest but at the same time, you feel lightheaded, almost as if you’re about to soar towards the heavens.

“I should go catch some sleep,” he says once your euphoria dies down. “I’ve had a long evening.”

“I’ll let you get to it, then,” you say almost wistfully. He mumbles a quiet later! and you allow your gaze to follow his movement.

“Don’t get lost on your way.”

He looks back and motions a mock salute. “I’ll come knocking on your door if I need help with directions.”

However, three days go by without seeing Jungkook; not in his usual spot at the entrance of the building, and nowhere near the kitchen or the lounge area. Although you weren’t looking for him by any means because Taehyung constantly kept you busy, dragging you from place to place to take cityscape photos for his client. Despite the constant travelling, it’s hard to enjoy the scenery when the affair appears to be completely one-sided.

There’s no mistaking the fact you’re extremely proud and gratified that Taehyung pours his heart and soul into each project he throws himself at. But would it hurt that much for him to point his lenses towards your direction even just once? Surely, your whole trip will not consist of you constantly waiting on him.

He must’ve noticed your affliction because suddenly the weight of his stare begins to feel heavier each quiet second that passes.

“Bored yet?” he asks, left hand on the wheel and the other placed on the knob to change the car’s gear. Your eyes flit back to him and his right palm opens for you to take. With your fingers interlocked, he places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

It’s difficult to harbour resentment towards him when he makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter with merely the tiniest of gestures.

“With you? Never.”

He chuckles, and you feel the rumbling of his chest as he presses the back of your hand against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat doesn’t match your erratic, nervous one.

“Hm, you should have said yes. I was going to save you of having to come with me later,” his tone is playful, and a small smile adorns his flushed lips.

“What’s happening later?” you shift in the passenger seat to face him.

“The dinner with Min, my client. I told you, remember?”

You carefully sift through your mind regarding your recent conversations with him. You recall them being short and clipped, sure, but none told you of a certain meeting with somebody else. So, you tell him in earnest, “No.”

“I’m sure you’re just forgetting,” his grip on you loosens, and you reclaim your hand before it falls on his lap.

No, you’re one-hundred-percent certain you would remember something as important as that. Yet you don’t tell him so and instead, you yield with a wordless nod.

“You mean to tell me you’re going to miss out on having takeout dinner with me?” you ask, attempting to humour him, but your tone mistakenly comes out tasting bitter on your tongue. The silence that ensues sears into your brain like the afternoon Seoul sun, prickly and scorching hot to the touch.

“You can come with, if that’s what you want. I’ll tell you in advance that it’s going to be boring, though, since we’re going to talk about work.”

Somewhere along the line, you presume Taehyung has developed the proclivity towards telling pretence with a straight face. It catches you off guard when you join him for the much-anticipated dinner that he apparently told you about. It’s not the fact that “Min” turns out to be a woman — you have no qualms about that. Taehyung is somebody who could make acquaintances with somebody while waiting in line for their prescription in a pharmacy. Rather, it’s the way he prepped you for the oncoming conversation or your lack of inclusion in any of them, for that matter.

Introductions aside, you found her to be amicable and friendly. But afterwards, you fell behind two steps as they divulged into a topic other than work. Despite the premise that the chat would be boring, Taehyung is deeply engrossed in whichever story she decided to share. You didn’t have quite the energy to match theirs, so instead of playing catch up, you decided to stop walking altogether. You watch as their figures grow smaller on the horizon, not even bothering to look back and ask if you’d like to join them.

She laughs at something Taehyung says and automatically reaches to grab his arm as she giggles along with him. When she makes eye contact with you, instinct tells you to force a smile. And you did, uncaring if she perceives your gesture to be nothing but utter bullshit.

You busy yourself with studying the restaurant instead as you pensively wait for food to be served. The dim lights of the room create a warm ambience — romantic, almost.

The gears in your brain stop turning as they click into place. Your pulse gums with vigour as you feel the sweat seeping through the pores of your palms. Suddenly, the vast expanse of the dining hall feels suffocating; there’s no room for you. To breathe, to feel, to be.

“I’ve got to go.”

You suddenly feel lightheaded as you begin seeing multiples of dark spots, clouding your vision. The floor caving beneath you, and you struggle to keep afloat.

“What?” Taehyung looks at you with wide eyes but makes no move to hold you back from gathering your things.

“I forgot I was supposed to meet a friend today,” you say with self-assurance, miming the same expression he wore when he lied: I told you, remember?

Taehyung stands when you move away from the table and hope blooms dangerously in your chest; your wish for him to hold you back and stop you from leaving begins to permeate.

(Though in hindsight, you should have known better.)

“I’ll call a cab for you.”

    Static fills the void, and for the first time in his life, Jungkook fears the silence rather than basking in it. He’s unsure when his words began to fail him; is it because he’s nervous he’ll slip up and say the wrong thing? Truly, at this point, being seen as the bad guy should be the least of his concerns.

Because as far as any human with a functioning brain thinks, he’s already fucked up in more ways than one. There’s no returning from the level of hell he’s put himself in.

“Are you still there?”

Her voice is patient, but he can tell she’s apprehensive.

“Uh, yes—just, thinking.”

There’s a brief pause before an accusatory, “Look, if you’re having second thoughts then maybe it’s too early.”

He immediately leaps from the couch of the empty lounge area. It’s a little past eleven at night, so everyone is either already in their rooms or out enjoying the city, which gives Jungkook a leg room for privacy.

“What? No, that’s not it!”

Two years isn’t too damn early. He feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime; tired of the time difference, tired of the distance, tired of being deprived of touch. Tired of the same old city, with the same predictable people. Everything around him is starting to feel foreign; the steps that lead to the bed and breakfast lodging, the corner street that sells the best tteokbokki he’s ever tasted in his life, the crosswalk that has malfunctioning lights which should be a public safety hazard but at this point he thinks will never be fixed. It’s all mundane, cycling through the same wheel of routine.

He no longer wants to feel apathetic when he faces his future while he houses resentment on his present self milling around aimlessly. She’s his only ticket to escape, so he better stop fucking around and tell her the truth.

But where to begin?

“Listen, I—”

“Whatever it is, can you please just say it? I’m leaving for work soon.”

He takes two steps back, for fear of retribution. Is he ready to ruin the entirety of her day?

“Never mind. I’ll talk to you later. Have a great day at work.”

She heaves a sigh, and preemptively ends the call.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he mumbles as he stares at his phone with her name printed in big letters across the screen. He contemplates pressing the call button and finally telling her everything—her work be damned. He knows that he owes her the truth at the very least.

But you come barrelling down the door, barefoot as you clutch your heels safely between your armpit. You’re dressed formally, yet casual enough for a nice dinner outside plenty of Seoul’s restaurants. But the slight stutter in your step and your somewhat dishevelled hair tells Jungkook all he needs to know. He doesn’t have to hazard a guess.

“Jungkook!” you raise your arms as you exclaim, and the wooden floor welcomes your shoes with a loud thud. “It’s been so long. What are you doing here?”

He laughs, not because of your deeply inebriated state, but because of your inquiry. What the hell am I doing here? He’s been asking himself that very same question without an answer in sight for a while now.

Though he doesn’t have time to answer because you almost knock him over when you skid over to wrap your arms around his neck. His senses are overwhelmed with the pungent smell of liquor, mixed with a subtle hint of rose water.

“I miss you.”

Jungkook is perplexed by your brutal honesty, to say the least. Though he knows to excuse any action while somebody is foolishly drunk, so long as they are not harming anybody or themselves. You grow quiet, and Jungkook is about to ask where you’ve been when he feels dampness on the front of his button-up shirt. He looks down and sees you visibly shaking, before grabbing at his sleeves seemingly for physical support.

It’s when you ask, with conviction, “Why did you hold me back?” that he realizes you aren’t referring to him. So, he wordlessly wraps his arms around you as he pats your back reassuringly. He doesn’t mind that you began sobbing louder, not even when a guest comes through the door and gives him a perplexed expression. He simply nods in their direction as a form of acknowledgement before giving a tight-lipped smile.

When minutes pass and Taehyung doesn’t arrive, he puts two and two together and concludes that he had to be the reason. His heart squeezes painfully as you attempt to swallow a sob which ends up sounding more agonizing and hollowed, carrying with them the weight of all the sorrow you’ve seemingly piled up.

When your cries are reduced to soft hiccups, you pull away from him with a quiet apology. Jungkook shakes his head as he places his palms delicately against your face before wiping the remnants of your sorrow away from your cheeks.

“Better?”

“No,” you sniffle. “I feel like shit.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I wanna go out again. Will you come with me?” you look up at him, bleary eyes pleading. Jungkook dips his chin as he guides you to sit on the leather couch, which you thankfully follow.

“At this rate, you’re going to pass out before we step foot outside the building.” With a sigh, he crouches down to reach eye level with you. “Do you need to puke?”

“I already did that after getting off the cab earlier, I think.”

“Okay then, wait here.”

You nod wordlessly and he goes to pick up your discarded shoes before placing it near your naked feet. He unlocks his phone as he makes his way to the dining hall, dialling a familiar number.

“Jaehyun?” he asks after the third ring. “Can you come earlier for your shift? Something came up.”

When he’s sure someone is going to take over for him, he makes his round in the empty kitchen, grabbing whatever he thinks might be immediately necessary: clean towels, an empty bucket in case of an emergency, and a glass of water.

You’re placid when he returns, eyes puffed out and red as you stare at nothing in particular. He hands you the water and you immediately finish it before he can blink.

You mumble a quick apology as he exchanges the empty glass for the clean towel.

“Don’t worry about it. This will all be billed towards room service.”

You chuckle and throw him back the towel which lands squarely on his face.

“Not funny.”

“I’m dead serious. Look at this damage on my shirt!” he points at the makeup smear accusingly, causing an escalation in your laughter. But the tears return, and you wordlessly wipe them with your palms.

“Come,” he offers his hand for you to take. “You have to eat.”

You stare wordlessly at it for a while, before taking it and pulling yourself to stand. You’re wobbly on your feet, and Jungkook tightens his grip on your hand in an attempt to steady you.

“I can’t go out like this,” you mumble. Jungkook nods in agreement as he wears a playful grin. You nudge his side, brows furrowed and lips forming into a pout. “I know I look like a mess. No need to rub it in.”

“I never said anything,” he chuckles. “Weren’t you the one asking to go out again?”

“I still do. But don’t worry,” you pat the back of his hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to come with.”

“I haven’t noticed Taehyung pass through yet, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jungkook watches your expression morph back into a blank stare. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, after all. His mind scrambles to quickly divulge the topic. “Where do you want to go? I already called my replacement at the front desk—”

“I know this is a bed and breakfast and not a hotel, but you guys have liquor, right?”

You’ve somehow convinced Jungkook to siphon a bottle of whiskey and a few cans of beer from the lodging’s inventory. Though he can quite happily admit that it didn’t take much to get him on board. But he technically can’t be seen drinking and lounging on the job for morale’s sake, so he sneaks in some food along with the alcohol — and you — back to his room. Although Jaehyun did catch you and Jungkook on the way up.

(He promises a wage increase if Jaehyun doesn’t say anything to Jungkook’s older brother. You didn’t have to but since you offered, I’ll take it, the latter said.)

“Apologies for the mess,” he mutters, holding the door with his foot as he welcomes you. He turns on the lamp instead of the main lights since they’re less obtrusive to the eye.

“Are you kidding?” you stumble in, trying not to drop the cans of beer you’re holding. “This place is practically spotless. You have bodies in your closet, don’t you?”

Jungkook laughs as he makes a beeline for the makeshift table sitting between his pseudo-living-room-slash-bedroom and kitchen—

“Wait, you have a kitchen?”

Jungkook isn’t sure if you’re perplexed or amazed. He shrugs nonchalantly either way.

“Perks of being part-owner, I guess?”

He haphazardly throws a blanket and a pillow near the table for you to sit in, but apparently, you have other plans and proceed to make a home for yourself in his bed. You bury your head in the sheets, mumbling, “It smells good.”

“I change the sheets every month,” he boasts rather proudly; all part of his routine.

“I should definitely check that closet.”

“By all means,” he grins, plopping down in front of the table. He’s yet to have dinner, so his intentions to get food and beer had been partly selfish. Jungkook turns to you, now laying on your side, sullen eyes already studying him. He quickly looks away and grabs a spoon before holding it up.

“Food? You’re probably hungry, right? I know I’m always craving, especially after a good cry. Not that I cry often, but doing so from time to time doesn’t hurt either, I suppose. I hope that doesn’t sound too weird—I know there’s this stigma around men and crying but honestly, it’s all such bullshit. We are born into the world crying, it’s literally the first thing we do as humans. Anyway, do you fancy some beef and white rice? I know it’s not much, but...what are you laughing for?”

Jungkook watches you descend into hysteria, clutching your stomach as your giggles turn silent, but your shoulders are still visibly shaking. You heave for air, turning over so your back is face to him.

“If I knew I was this funny, I would have switched careers,” he mumbles, though loud enough for you to hear, as he stuffs his face with rice.

“It’s not too late,” you reply with a sniffle. “You can still change your mind.”

“That’s true, I suppose. Don’t they have that saying that goes ‘a fickle heart is the only constant in this world’ or something?”

Your head whips back towards him, swollen eyes wide in astonishment. “Did you just quote Howl’s Moving Castle?”

His nose scrunches up in deep thought. “Maybe? I did watch it recently.”

“You’re an odd one, Jeon Jungkook,” you muse quietly, eyes mimicking one of the phases of the moon as you grin.

“Says the person who’s soiling my fresh linen with her tears,” he says playfully. But there’s no reply this time around, and he quickly backtracks. “It’s okay to laugh at that one—it was a joke. A very terrible one, apparently.”

“No. You’re quite spot on, actually.”

Jungkook doesn’t speak for a while, unsure whether he should be overstepping the boundary more than he should have. But he looks at your vulnerable state, splayed across his bed, and thinks all formalities are out the window at this point. Despite the previous state of your relationship with him, or otherwise the lack of it, this would probably constitute friendship. Therefore, as a friend, it’s his moral duty to rid you of your throes and woes, even just a little.

“Where did you go, anyway? Must have been fun if you got all shit-faced like this.”

Keeping the tone airy is probably the best way to go as an introduction.

“Just a pub. I didn’t want to go clubbing by myself, it could have been dangerous.”

Jungkook’s forehead creases with worry, and he holds himself back from the question that he’s burning to ask: Then where the hell is Kim Taehyung? He reserves the right to be outright angry because he knows it’s not his place to. He reaches for the can of beer, which hisses in frustration when he opens it.

“You don’t have friends in the city?” he asks, hoping you will not take offence at his question. You shrug.

“I didn’t really keep in touch with anyone after moving away. It felt weird asking someone out of the blue.”

“You could have called me,” he says without much thought.

“I seriously considered it, but…” you trail off, leaving Jungkook to fill the void himself. He doesn’t mind that he probably didn’t cross your mind as a go-to person to call in times of crisis. “I heard you were quite the party pooper in high school, so I had my doubts.”

“Hey!” he protests, but you ignore him and continue. He doesn’t disagree, of course, but being called out is not a fun experience whether it came from a drunk acquaintance or not.

“New in town, straight-A student—but to be fair, quite good-looking and athletic to boot. My god, all my friends had a stupid on crush on you.”

Jungkook’s cheeks grow warm with embarrassment at the deluge of compliments. “Me? With gangly limbs and an awful bowl-cut? Who couldn’t even get a single word out to anybody, especially girls, without stuttering? That Jungkook?”

“You need to give yourself a little more credit than that, Jeon.” You’re facing him once again, both hands tucked neatly beneath your head.

He nods as an acknowledgement but swiftly changes the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? I’m halfway through this already.”

“I’m sure. I think I’ll probably just nap, then go,” you chuckle. Jungkook can only offer you a rueful smile. He doesn’t mind if you’re unwilling to share the whole spiel of what caused you to be miserable enough to drink by yourself. He’s quite well-versed in that area, after all. It doesn’t solve anything, sure, but it’s enough to numb the feeling of being alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t have to guess who the root of it is, though.

He sighs as he turns on the television, before lowering it down to a manageably quiet level where it will not disturb your sleep. He doesn’t have a particular show in mind to watch, but having the mindless static accompany him is more than enough.

“I lied,” you begin after several minutes of silence. “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong,” he motions for you to move over as he walks closer to the bed. You follow his instruction, and he peels a layer of the bedsheet. Jungkook laughs as you scramble to get under it. “Better now?”

You didn’t answer but instead, lift your head from the sheets before nodding. He’s overcome with a sense of assurance when he sees your peaceful, content expression.

He hasn’t so much as turned his back on you when you call his name out once more.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“Just make sure you leave us a five-star rating.”

He grins just as you crack one eye open. “I’m serious.”  

“So am I. We need that public approval to keep running,” he watches the corner of your lips twitch in amusement as you settle back comfortably into the futon with a nod.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

“Was I wrong? For feeling wanted, I mean.”

Your question catches him by surprise; suddenly the hardwood floor beneath him begins to feel cold against his feet. Instead of returning to his previous spot, he carefully sits on the edge of the bed as the springs creak from his weight. He pulls both his legs underneath him; he couldn’t quite face you, so he stares at the television, instead.

“I don’t think so. We all crave validation, more so from our partners than anybody else. I think it’s natural. Otherwise, it’s pointless.”

“Pointless,” you echo softly.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t work it out, though. Part of it is communicating your needs to each other.”

Hypocrite, Jungkook says to himself. It’s laughable, the level of bullshit he allows himself to bask in. What’s the point of giving someone else advice, when he can’t even get his shit together?

“You have to be truthful because the other person might not know what you want.”

“I know that,” your voice is shaky when you speak. Jungkook hedges his bet and assumes that you began crying once more; he didn’t need to look back to confirm. “I guess I’m just scared of facing the outcome of the confrontation when it does happen.”

“You don’t want to be abandoned when shit hits the fan,” he says more to himself than you.

“Exactly. I don’t even know when it began. One day I just woke up and,” you pause, and Jungkook hears you sniffle. “And everything felt so unfamiliar. The places—the people I thought I knew. It’s like I dissociated from my body, and I've just been on autopilot ever since.”

You pause, and Jungkook continues for you. “And you thought going along with the flow would fix things, but it feels even more jarring because you’ve lost that sense of familiarity.”

“Yeah, exactly. I thought coming here would somehow magically restore everything, but quite the opposite, actually. I guess running away from it doesn’t solve anything,” you chuckle bitterly. He slowly shifts on the bed to face you.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook feels seen; like someone has found the lock to the door he threw away so long ago. Your words continuously play on a loop in his mind, forcing him to look at the actions he’s been taking. Certainly, he’s not racing away from himself by choosing to move to a different country despite his parents’ protest, is he? What about the fact that he chooses not to tell her, the supposed love of his life, about the fact that he’d felt so deprived that he couldn’t resist the temptation to have sex with someone else? And to top it all off, he doesn’t have the guts to tell her.

Jungkook knows he doesn't deserve the right to sit there and tell you what to do when he doesn’t dare to be honest in his relationship.

When you’ve cried your eyes dry and the evenness of your breathing signifies you’re fast asleep, Jungkook gently moves from his spot on the bed. He grabs the phone that has been idly on top of the table, before heading to the bathroom and closing the door shut. No matter the outcome of the conversation, she deserves the truth.

Jungkook inhales deeply and presses the call button.

    You rise before daybreak, and at a glance, Jungkook is nowhere to be found. There’s a painful throb on the side of your head as you sit up, and you ignore it as you untangle yourself from the sheets. With the help of the lights from the television, you find him splayed across the couch not too far from where you stand. He’s still wearing the same clothes he had on a few hours ago, and guilt creeps up quicker than you anticipated it to.

You untuck the blanket you’ve used from his bed before walking towards him, careful not to disturb his slumber.

“I apologize for bothering you,” you mumble as you lay the blanket softly on top of him. You didn’t think to wake him before your departure; you already told him that you were set to leave after a short nap, anyway.

Hurriedly, you exit his room, forgetting that you’re completely barefoot. It’s fine, it’s just a few floors down, anyway.

The short elevator ride gives you little room to prepare for what you’re going to tell Taehyung. You glance at the phone you’ve been keeping on ‘do not disturb’ to find two missed calls from him a few hours prior. You just hope he’s already asleep by the time you get to your room.

You’re relieved when you enter and the lights are turned off. It feels juvenile to be sneaking around as you use your phone’s light to pick up a discarded shirt before stripping away your clothes and hurriedly putting it on.

Taehyung’s body is turned towards the wall as he hugs the pillow tightly against his body. Seeing him tranquil and at peace shifts your mood, as if all the frustration you feel dissipates within an instant. You slide under the covers, careful not to disturb him but he shifts at your presence anyway. He forgoes the pillow, snaking his arms around your waist instead as he inches closer.

“Where have you been?” he murmurs sleepily against your ear.

“Just...here.”

He doesn’t ask further and you don’t elaborate, thinking that he’s fallen back asleep. A part of you is glad for the unadulterated freedom he’s giving you. But there’s a sudden feeling of optimism; perhaps the sensation of loneliness will pass, and that you’re merely being dramatic (for the lack of better term). Once again you’re lulled into complacency. But it’s never a bad thing to just hope for the best, right?

But Taehyung is gone by noon when you finally have the decency to peel yourself off the bed. There’s a simple text from several hours ago that reads: Didn’t want to disturb you. Call me later.

You do exactly that, but it takes you straight to voicemail. Twice. Three times.

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach, but you try not to read into the situation too much.

“It’s fine, I wanted a day to go around by myself anyway,” you say out loud, uncaring if the walls are the only ones hearing you out. You fall back into the mattress, knowing the eagerness to get ready will not come unless there’s anybody to encourage.

But it seems like you didn’t have to wait for your saving grace for too long because your phone rings and you immediately roll over to reach for it.

Your heart sinks when you read the caller ID, but you grin and answer the call, anyway.

“Hey, Mom.”

She answers back cheerily, before divulging into her familiar list of questions; the usual how are you’s and the have you been eating well’s. When she finally inquires about Taehyung, you answer hesitantly.

“He’s out for work. You know how it is.”

She sighs and you wince, regretting your choice of tone. “Did you argue again?”

“No! That’s not it at all. I’m just—”

“Whatever it is, just be patient with him,” she admonishes. Your grip on the phone tightens. Right, because that very same rhetoric did nothing to salvage your marriage with Dad. It had been one of the reasons why you decided to move away after high school in the first place. Your mother managed to convince you to move in with her, stating that she wanted to make up for being absent most of your youth.

A different country. Foreign places to see, people to meet. The thrill of it all had been enough to convince you to depart the only place you knew your entire life. But part of the reason why you agreed had been because you were growing weary of living with your father’s new family. There was never a sense of belonging that tied you to Seoul despite spending all your life there.

Except for Taehyung.

He followed you five years later, like a fool in love. Then you decided to get married two years after rekindling your relationship. Three years since then, it feels like you’re floating in between two sides of the same coin with him, neither in bliss nor in terror.

“I know,” you chew your bottom lip. Fear is catching fire in your chest, and you smother it quickly so it will not disperse and reach your heart. “I’m trying.”

She switches the topic quicker than you can wipe the tears that manage to fall, and soon enough she’s complaining to you about having to come out for late lunch with her friends. Your answers are short and subdued, just enough to let her know that you’re still there, but your mind is itching to run somewhere else. Before she hangs up, you give her a gentle reminder to check on your apartment. She promises not to forget.

“Have fun, dear! Don’t forget to visit the places I told you about.”

“You act as if I didn’t live here before,” she chuckles at your unintended humour. “But don’t worry, I won’t.”

The line cuts after a short goodbye, and you welcome silence with a long sigh. It seems like there’s a lot on the list for you to finish: get some food to cure your hangover, take a nap, and then another after waking up. The prospect of going out alone is more daunting than it seems, therefore, staying in feels like it’s the best option.

Suddenly, a fleeting thought crosses your mind. You could have called me.

You instinctively reach for the telephone by the bedside table and dial his room number, fresh and vivid in your memory.

*

It takes half an hour to get to the destination Jungkook suggested. He agreed that you’ll treat him to (a very late afternoon) lunch if he picks the place.

“No way, it’s still here!” you exclaim as soon as you step foot off the cab. Waves of nostalgia come trickling in one by one, then hits you all at once when you open the door. Your senses are overwhelmed with familiar spices as soon as you push the door open. You look back and beam at Jungkook, who’s watching you with a small smile.

It’s only when you’re seated and have ordered that Jungkook clears his throat before saying, “I’m glad you still remember.”

You gawk at him, before crossing your legs firmly beneath you.

“Are you kidding? They have the best bibimbap and tofu stew. I was here almost every night especially during the exam period.”

“I know,” he says with confidence and you eye him with suspicion. “I mean, it was tough not to. You were always so loud around your friends.”

You scoff at him despite you knowing it to be true, but Jungkook takes no offence to it as he grins.

“It’s called having fun. You should try it sometime,” you point at him with your spoon.

“I am having fun with—”

“If you say ‘with you’, I swear to god you’re going to pay for the food instead,” you warn him despite a smile threatening to break from your lips.

“With you,” he emphasizes the phrase almost mockingly. You murmur the word “impossible” under your breath as you feel the tips of your ears grow warm.

Although the comment seems gratuitous at the time of its conception, to Jungkook’s credit you also come to enjoy time spent with him. Perhaps it’s the fact that he stands between novelty and familiarity that you fall into an easy discourse with him; you didn’t have to choose your words too carefully or worry that he might think ill of you based on what you say. There’s no seed of doubt and no root cause of anxiety.

You can’t help but find it odd, nevertheless.

Jungkook, whom you’ve never shared more than two lines before your current interaction with him. You’d never have thought in a million years you’d confide in somebody who used to give you odd stares and unfriendly glares when you passed by him in the halls of your high school. The past you would gawk, confused as to how he manages to coax even the tiniest smile out of you.

You’re about to point out that very fact to Jungkook when your phone rings and you’re immediately reprieved back out of the comfort of his presence.

It’s Taehyung, and you immediately answer.

“Babe, don’t freak out, but I’m currently in Daegu. Crazy! I know, I know. But remember I told you last night about—”

He begins listing names you recall hearing in passing. But it didn’t matter, because you stop paying attention after hearing where his current location is.

“—is why I couldn’t answer your call. But don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, probably.”

You watch Jungkook shift in his seat as he asks you if everything’s all right. You nod instinctively.

“Okay.”

“Cool. I’ll call you again later after we get settled. Love you.”

“Mhm.”

He must have been in a hurry because the call cuts before you could get another word in. Although you didn’t attempt to answer longer than a few sentences in the first place, afraid that the quiver in your voice will reveal the hurt and anger that has slowly been piling up one by one.

    Jungkook thinks you’re a dam that’s overfilled and just about ready to burst. He’s afraid because you seem overly happy, obviously overcompensating for the devastation he had seen in your eyes hours prior to your call. He needn’t guess who it had been on the other side. Although he doesn’t know what Taehyung said, it’s enough to send you in a frantic search for your sanity.

This begins with you asking him to go to a karaoke bar with you, before proceeding to order several drinks. It’s on me, Jeon! I owe you lots, you declare before proceeding to down a whole glass of beer in one go.

Within the privacy the four walls of the room bring, you pour your energy into one upbeat song after another, seemingly uncaring of Jungkook’s presence. That is until your umpteenth song ends, and you turn away from the screen dramatically and towards him to hand him the mic.

“Your turn!”

“Great, I thought you’d never ask,” he says sarcastically and you join him on the seat, giggling. He takes the remote and punches in his selected number as a familiar tune comes through the speakers. He looks at you as he begins to sing the lyrics of the verse, and you break out into a small grin.

“I’m trying to realize, it’s alright to not be fine…” he sings softly as your head gently leans on his shoulder. Jungkook lets you.

He does again on the cab ride to the pub for a late dinner. And again on the way home. The weight of your presence against him is most likely inconsequential to the heaviness you carry around with you. That’s why he’ll do his part even though he most likely doesn’t have to; anything to let you know you’re not alone. He just hopes you know.

“Jungkook,” your voice is quiet against his ear as he carries you up the concrete steps.

“Yes?” he adjusts you on his back, careful not to drop you. He’s only slightly inebriated, and he’s hoping there will be no accidents for him or you.

“Thank you.”

“Just leave us a—”

“Five-star rating,” hearing your laughter feels ticklish in his stomach. “I will.”

His older brother greets him with an odd look once he enters the door of the lobby, before asking, “Is this what you skipped work for?”

“I’m only cashing in my days off before a leave,” Jungkook points at the elevator with his chin.

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother says dismissively before pressing the button for Jungkook. Silence passes through them as they wait for the doors to open. “Is she the reason why you changed your mind?”

Jungkook feels the steady rhythm of your pulse against his back, which is kilometres away from his erratic heartbeat. He tries not to put too much thought into it; he did just carry you up several flights of stairs, after all.

The harsh ping of the bell saves him from answering, and the older didn’t press him any further. It’s only after he’s turned the keys to your room, safely placed you on the bed — but not before he falls back onto the spot beside you with a deep sigh — that he has the time to formulate an articulate response.

“I’d like to think I did it out of my own volition. But a lot has happened the last few days, and, well…” he trails off as he turns his body to face you, one hand tucked against his cheek as the other reaches out to comb a stray hair out of your face.

You stir under his touch but he doesn’t make the effort to move away.

“Seems like I owe you again, Jeon Jungkook,” you whisper, the words stringing together seemingly in an indecipherable sound. He manages to put the pieces together, nonetheless.

“You’re not under any obligation to repay me,” he grins when you peel your eyes open. “I don’t want to give you all the credit, but you might have saved me more than once.”

“How so?”

The reflection of the city lights chase away the dimness of the room, but they also reflect your eyes in a way that makes Jungkook think you’re holding the galaxy’s secrets within them.

“I was having this, sort of, midlife crisis—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” you place your elbow against the mattress as you lean your flushed cheeks against your palm. “Saying you’re having a midlife crisis now in your late twenties makes it seem like your life’s going to end in your sixties.”

He shrugs half-heartedly. The pessimist in him urges him to declare, “Who’s to say I won’t?”

“Boo! I hate this story already.”

“Buckle up, because it’s about to get worse,” he smiles wryly.

And Jungkook opens up his fresh wounds and bares his soul without pomp and flowery words. He watches your reaction intently, nonetheless, knowing well enough that by the end of the night, he might get kicked out of the halls. He’ll take the punishment kindly, since she didn’t have the chance to slap him when he could tell, despite the distance, that she would punch him square in the face.

“I know it’s wrong, and I’m not making any excuses for my actions.”

“I feel like I have no place to get angry at you. But strictly speaking, from a rational person’s point of view...fuck you.”

“I deserve no less,” he says, appreciating your candour. “That’s why last night, when you fell asleep, I told her everything. I realized that I had no place to speak of communicating when I’ve been holding out on the truth from her for a while now. You can only imagine how angry she is with me.” He swallows thickly, hating the way his throat constricts uncomfortably. Perhaps he did care about how you’ll view him, after all.

“Are you all right, though?”

The worry engraved in the crease between your brow disarms him; the unexpected delicacy in the way you ask him suddenly brings him into sobriety. After hearing the phrase I don’t want to see you, ever, he hasn’t had the time to process how he feels other than the guilt that continues to plague him. He’d buried heartbreak that comes along after losing somebody so quickly that realizing it now has him terrified of himself.

Has he truly reached the point where he’s incapable of feeling anything?

Or is it that somewhere between then and now, he’s fallen out of love with her and made excuses for himself so that it’s easier to let her hate him because he didn’t have the courage to break it off? Is it because he’s using her as an excuse — his ticket out of Seoul, out of the life he thinks to be mundane? Because if so, then he’s an even bigger scumbag than he originally thought.

“Jungkook?”

The warmth of your hand on his cheek salvages him from sinking into the bottomless depth of his thoughts.

“I can’t believe I strung her along for this long.”

Then it hits him all at once; an unavoidable freight train carrying the emotions he’s repressed himself from bearing. In him blossoms the violent need to abate the heaviness that began festering within the depths of his mind a long time ago.

One sob and you pull him against you. Two and you’re running your hands soothingly down the curves of his back. Three, and he’s clinging onto you for dear life as the uncontrollable cries consume him. He’s overcome by a sense of déjà vu as you wrap your arms tighter against him.

Jungkook lets you.

Again and again, he will selfishly welcome your presence, as if doing so would diminish him of any wrongdoings he has committed.

    You drift in and out of consciousness, but the warm body stays unchanged beside you. Another aspect feels indifferent: The pounding headache constantly knocking against your temple. In hindsight, you probably need to stop drinking to the point where your body can’t handle the after-effects. Inhaling slowly puts your mind at ease as the scent of fresh lavender wafts over your senses; you’re immediately reminded of hanging freshly laundered sheets during a hot summer day. Only one person manages to conjure such specific and vivid imagery for you.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your body goes rigid at the feeling of his heavy arm draped across your waist. You slowly open your eyes, hoping that your initial hunch is wrong, and you’re merely dreaming that you let someone who’s neither a stranger nor a friend lay in bed with you.

But you’re met with his peaceful sleeping face, a stark difference between last night’s troubled and despaired Jungkook. For a split second, you let your mind wander with your heart amongst the perilous grounds of your imagination.

If picturing life with him is a sin, then there’s absolutely no saving you from entering the depths of hell.

(A tad bit over-dramatic on your part, but you believe you have the license to do so since you just woke up in the arms of someone else other than Taehyung.)

Despite the slight panic accentuated by the quick palpitations of your heartbeat, you make no genuine effort to move away. Bits of cynicism creeps up, either way, as you berate yourself for clinging onto anybody willing to keep you company.

But at this point, is Jungkook truly just ‘anybody’ to you? In a short period of time, you’ve managed to share more with him than you’ve had with Taehyung. With Jungkook, there’s nobody to compete for attention with.

So, what is holding you back from leaving the anguish behind and instead run straight on towards Jungkook? Is the sanctity of marriage you’ve sworn to uphold after seeing how it tore your own family apart enough of a reason to stay with him?

The answer sits on the tip of your tongue like a ripe fruit ready to burst.

Jungkook shifts his position as he raises one eyelid open before breaking out into a lazy grin. You return the gesture as you peel yourself away from his touch to sit upon the mattress and stretch your limbs wide.

“That was the best sleep I had in a while,” he admits.

“Maybe all you needed was a good cry.”

He gives you a knowing look. “Maybe.”

Silence ensues, and all of a sudden you’re unsure of what to tell him when minutes ago you allowed yourself to stare at him unabated. How exactly are you supposed to express gratification to the person who’s allowed themselves to be the unfortunate passenger to your rollercoaster of emotions? What’s more, is you’d done the same for him. Do you, then, without a need for more words, go back to how it had been previously and pretend nothing had happened?

You didn’t have much time to ponder because your phone vibrates in the back pocket of your jeans.

“What do you mean by ‘we need to talk’?”

“Good morning to you too, Taehyung,” you mumble. Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise, as if in sudden realization of something he’d forgotten. He moves off the bed and motions for the bathroom. You nod wordlessly. It almost slipped your mind that you sent him a somewhat vague text the night previous after Jungkook’s spiel. “It means exactly what it says. We need to talk when you get back. You are coming back, right?”

“What’s with the sudden hostility in your tone? Of course, I’m coming back.”

“I think I deserve to be a little hostile,” a sudden wave of bravery washes over you. “How exactly am I supposed to feel after you leave me without warning on our trip?”

“I told you—”

“Stop fucking lying to me, Kim Taehyung,” your voice breaks as tears blur your vision. “You never talk about anything with me anymore, and you know it.” There’s a certain pride you feel when he doesn’t respond right away. “I can’t talk to you about this on the phone. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Jungkook returns well after you’ve ended the call with Taehyung.

“I should probably get back to my room and change. I need to take over for my brother.”

You follow him towards the door, where he haphazardly puts on his shoes. When he stands, he gazes at you, eyes filled with tenderness. Your heart stutters. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course,” you offer him an encouraging smile, but he doesn’t return it. With one nod he’s out the door, and you watch as his figure retreats towards the elevator without so much as a wave, not knowing that would be the last you see of him for a while.

Taehyung’s arrival comes earlier than expected and catches you after your long shower, but says nothing to quell your worries. He merely sits on the bed and watches you pace around the room; for a comb one minute, then you put on lotion next, then you’re folding clothes to be laundered — anything to busy yourself from confrontation. It’s not that your courage has wavered, but rather your dignity prevents you from breaking first.

Yet as soon as your name rolls off his tongue, there’s a magnetic pull that has your feet nimbly walking to where he is.

“I’m sorry,” is all it takes from him for you to unravel completely. There’s no shortage of fresh, hot tears as he engulfs you against him. You bring your palms up to grab on his shirt tightly, before hitting his chest with no real intentions of hurting him. He doesn’t stop you but instead pulls back to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your arms fall nimbly to the side and Taehyung continues to mutter apologies one after the other, catching each teardrop before they reach the bottom of your ruddy cheeks.

He waits until you’ve stopped sobbing before you begin diving into a conversation that’s been long overdue. Slowly, the walls you’ve built around yourself begin to crumble brick by brick as the imperfections of your relationship reveal itself on the surface. It’s uncomfortable for him as much as it is for you to dredge up old wounds, evident by the way his eyes well up with tears, but it’s an intervention needed to regain what was, if possible.

Both you and Taehyung know one conversation is not enough to undo the fractures, but it’s a step closer towards salvation.

*

The end of your trip creeps up closer than you’d like. You stopped tagging along with Taehyung’s workdays because he agreed to go places with you. Days without him are spent milling around the neighbouring places of the bed and breakfast, which leads to your discovery of the best spicy rice cake just around the corner of the street. There is also the obligatory bike ride alone around the Han river, which proves to be more satisfactory than almost anything you’ve ever done.

You find yourself looking for Jungkook in-between the hours where your mind wanders and for a split second, all of your thoughts are suddenly dedicated to him. Deception comes in the form of denial when you push the aimless sentiments aside, afraid that you might get too carried away. It’s maddening to think that he only seems to show up in times of dire need as if the deity responsible for overlooking fate is playing tricks on you.

(Though you know that if you want to see him, the only thing you have to do is knock on his door. You dismiss that idea, either way, for fear of being too obtrusive.)

On the day of your departure, you wake up early to catch breakfast. You ask Taehyung if he wants to join you despite knowing the answer. He grunts in response but stays unmoving. You untangle yourself from the warmth of his body before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Food has been prepared once you’re in the dining area, but there’s nobody to be found. It immediately reminds you of the first morning of your arrival—the excited faces of the children and their parents who were engrossed in a serious conversation, and the elderly couple enjoying their morning of peace together. Two weeks have gone by, and you’re not even sure if they’re still here or if they’ve moved on to see other places, meet other people.

Inadvertently, you steal a glimpse of the kitchen door, waiting for it to swing open and reveal the one person whose smile you’ve been longing to witness one last time. You grin as you shake your head; your propensity towards wishful thinking never ceases to make you feel disheartened.

“Last time you were staring longingly at your soup, and today you’re smiling to yourself,” his voice cuts through your thoughts intrusively as he strolls in, dressed down in a pair of casual joggers and an ill-fitting shirt too big to possibly belong to him. “Hi.”

Your gaze meets his, and breathlessly, you say, “Hi.”

He doesn’t make any gesture that indicates he wants to sit and chat this time around.

“Been busy?”

“I could say the same about you,” your lips curl upwards in a small smile. There’s a landslide of things you want to ask him, topics you want to share. You want to thank him over and over, invite him for a meal or even a simple walk around town. But words seem to fail you as you shift your eyes to stare at your half-eaten plate of fruit slices.

“My older brother mentioned you’re leaving today,” he announces offhandedly, scratching the nape of his neck. You’d like to think he’s just as unsure as you on how to go about having a conversation. Is he also stumbling over his thoughts like you are?

“Uh, yeah—” you flick your wristwatch to check the time— “I just have to wake Taeyhung, and we’ll be on our way.” The rueful smile he gives you feels like a splinter prodding your heart. “You?”

“Oh, I was just on my way to grab something before heading to the gym.”

“Ah,” you nod. Unlike the last time you two shared a conversation in the same place, this one is marred by awkward pauses and long bouts of silence. Afraid this will cause him to leave, you promptly state, “I honestly thought you ended up leaving the country since I didn’t see much of you.”

“That was the plan, yes,” his smile finally reaches his eyes. “I was supposed to leave a week ago— I mean, I had already bought the tickets and despite how it ended with me and her, I still wanted to leave. But someone told me just because you try to run from your problems doesn’t mean it will not follow you there.”

You chuckle as you shake your head. He continues. “I feel like I owe it to her to grant her wishes of not wanting to see me, no matter how much I wanted to get out of this place. A lot of reasons compelled me to stay, and I think I’m better for it.”

When your gaze meets his, there’s an unstated agreement; a kinship that cannot be unbound, locked away in a time you can only revisit through your memory.

“With that being said, I might tour Europe in two months’ time, starting with Sweden,” he grins playfully, cheeks dotted with a dimple. You roll your eyes as you stand before shoving him lightly by the shoulder.

“Alright, Richie Rich, no need to rub it in. I get it, I get it.”

“You have me mistaken, Miss. This was a culmination of years of hard work and savings.”  

“I’m happy for you,” you say with finality. No matter how much you did not want the conversation to end, there’s a twinge of sweetness to a farewell amidst the bleakness that often comes along; it doesn’t always have to end in thunder and rainfall.

But then he asks, “Are you happy for you?”

It might have been then, at that moment, where you’d willingly say blurt the phrase out loud, your situation be damned. But you didn’t—you couldn’t. Not when you nod wordlessly. Not when he opens his arms seemingly as a conclusion, a wordless action that says: I should probably let you go so I can also go about with my day. Instead, you carefully place the three words in your back pocket to be used later before you step into the warmth of his embrace.

He whispers a farewell and a promise that you know you’ll carry in your heart until the time fate allows you to meet again at another time and another place.

[the-last-cuddlebender]

I wish you would write a fic where Aang is just flustered and is amassed at katara while she’s just doing nothing ❤️maybe after the balcony kiss (btw your my favorite fic writer 💕)

*smacks table* *kicks a chair over* *screams into the void*

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) NO YOU’RE MY FAVORITE, ANON😤❤💕💖

Ngl tho, this prompt and one other have been haunting me for so long oml I just for the longest time drew complete blanks like...just nothing came to me. Nada. I even tried getting a legit 12 straight hours of sleep to turn my brain off and back on again but nOpE. I really wanted to keep it related to after the balcony kiss since I wanted the challenge, but gosh did it fight me. My brain go poof I hope you’re happy for making me question everything, Anon lol

Anywho, I love and cherish you, Anon, you bean, you godsend, you magnificent angel, you🥰~ I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

Words: 1,785

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Aang kneaded his right thumb into his left palm. The scars there were small and white and hardly noticeable unless he held his hand right to his face.

It was peculiar, to say the least. Only the hand that received Ozai’s lightning bore a shadow of his opponent’s cold fire. The belly of his palm was a memory of death barely avoided, but he tried (...tried…tried very, very hard...) to imagine the milky pattern on pale skin as looking like a leaf’s veins when held up to the sunlight.

Aang rolled his lip between his teeth. He was going to tear something if he crouched for much longer. The scars burned without burning, and he wasn’t sure which fate was worse. Was it even considered a scar if it was never open? It was just there after the battle like it was a maker’s mark on a finished piece.

Katara would know—there was little that she didn’t know—, but she had been far too exhausted for him to even consider asking—

Katara...

Aang’s face burned like the fire she lit in his cheeks was eternal.

If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

He only remembered how the kiss felt.

Because remembering the moment when Katara redefined what happiness felt like was a moment Aang would never forget.

His shoulders rose to his ears; his face smoldered as giddy magma crawled up his neck. He teetered to one side when thoughts of her shifted gravity. Maybe it was a good thing that he was crouching, after all.

Katara…

...But then he looked at his estranged left palm and the new maker’s mark that it bore.

...And his heart crisped and flaked into ashes piling in the pit of his chest.

The scarring changed nothing but uprooted everything. It was a cancer, black and numb on his hand, like it was suffering from frostbite and needed to be removed.

The estranged left palm that saved his life was the same hand Katara held—all those months ago—when they kissed that day in the dark, trapped and alone, in an inky-black Earth Kingdom cave.

The kiss was a gentle waltz turning into a speedy tango, but her hand on his was the tug to lift him out of his chair. It was the strike of flint and steel that burned away the cobwebs in his heart and brushed aside all dust to welcome something new.

...Katara...

Sokka had interrupted before Aang could ask her to be his girlfriend. Time was an illusion, but time was precious. Memories framed in moments were the beginnings of beautiful new somethings.

What they were, though...

He really hoped Katara knew better than him. Of course, she would—there was little that she didn’t know.

Did the kiss make it—them—official? They said more in words unspoken than words said aloud ever could, but they hadn’t had a moment of peace since then. Surely, he had to ask her. He really, really wanted to, too. It didn’t feel right to celebrate an anniversary without a proper date—Spirits, he and Katara were gonna have an anniversary, oh Spirits—

Aang’s palm stared back at him. Embarrassment hit him like a skybison at full-speed.

Katara had nearly killed him during the meeting that morning.

Holding his hand—that hand—under the table was toying with whatever gave his heart reason to beat.

Aang had hugged her times a-plenty, but he had never held her hand in that way for that long. It eclipsed their kiss and left him powerless like a suddenly doused fire.

...It had felt like he was poisoning her—like he was touching her with an open wound. 

Aang slumped a little more in the corner of the balcony and stared at his callouses like they could tell him what to do.

The sunset was a smirk mocking his plight, but the moonrise was a gentle grin trying (...trying…trying very, very hard...) to heal his hurts.

Katara hated holding his hand. He felt that she did. She muted the room for him when she touched him; it brought her every reaction into stark relief. He had briefly wondered if that was what Toph felt like when she sensed when someone was lying.

Katara had stiffened. She even shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable. The breath that left her was fast at first like she was just told bad news. Her exhales after that were deep and almost seething.

...The worst part was when she wouldn’t look at him. She only glared about and around them.

Aang slumped from his crouch until his rear hit the ground. His right thumb stayed married to his left palm, and the white lightning stung tender like something freshly burned. He only partially wished that he had the top of his robes on when the thought of her regretting him cut the strings that held him together; he was a puppet collapsing against the balcony wall and sliding down gritty concrete. His scar—another reminder of her—stung him like smacks to the face and melted him into something made of noodles.

The moon was a bit higher, now, but its grin wasn’t any more reassuring than before. The bugs and small critters must have become annoyed with his melting because there was silence like Hei Bai’s forest when Aang made himself smaller than his shadow and dragged his kneading hand even closer to his face.

Their kiss—she had kissed him—barbed him with a sting like thorns on a rose bush except laced with poison and fiberglass. It was decaying from the start of something new into the empty longing for a once in a lifetime occurrence. 

Something shot him in the leg and crippled what made him Aang.

His right thumb kneading his left palm slipped and dug a fingernail into a callous.

He was goo freezing over—a body consumed by jennamite.

Aang breathed out, about to take the inhale to fuel the first hiccup dancing on his shaking lip—

—but then Katara stepped onto the balcony and leaned up against the bars.

Being an airbender had its perks, and his lungs not popping from the force and fullness of his panicked inhale was definitely one of them. He was a statue—a deformed gargoyle that looked more horrific to behold than to cross—, and the glimpse of Katara’s soft grin became a braided noose refusing to let him exhale.

None of the lights were lit.

Spirits, did he love his moonrise and the weakness that she gave him.

Katara was staring into something that didn’t exist on this plane and smiling at something he couldn’t see. She was a stilled lake normally raging and powerful and beautiful to behold. He wouldn’t dare disturb her. She was as calm as a reflection.

Sudden exposure reminded him of stepping into a forbidden part of the Southern Air Temple, and his presence became a violation of something precious. Katara was remembering moments of beautiful new somethings if the way she absentmindedly bent a stream of water about one wrist—her bending her joy unhindered—was anything to go by.

Aang blushed a shade of red that Aunt Wu could have mistaken as the intended location for eruption from the Symbol of Volcanic Doom. He closed his eyes, covered his ears, and dared to shimmy into the shadow of the corner. Katara was a warrior unmatched and without equal. That’s why she was Master Katara. He could no sooner escape her than escape the earthshaking hammer-blows that the hint of her smile drove into his chest. 

He sat on a tightrope whose cables were snapping and unwinding.

It was only when he felt weaker in a way that made him stronger that he peaked an eye open.

Katara was crouched and more concerned than bemused. “Aang?” She touched the knee that had curled to his chest and was threatening to buckle into his sternum. “Are you okay?”

…’Okay’ was a subjective and circumstantial term.

His voice was the sound of rubber sliding water off of wet glass. “M-hm.”

“What are you doing out here alone and...in the corner?”

“Well, I was just...Well, y’know…” His right thumb stuck to his left palm like they were nailed together. He tried (...tried...tried very, very hard...) to hide his wound from her. “Moon ‘s nice ‘n…’n stuff.”

Katara mulled over his words, said and unsaid. Her stare was an examination checking his vitals—his heart, his soul, and his happiness. She hummed a thoughtful sound that bookmarked her place in the pages of him.

It all happened in under the time it took her to breathe. Aang nearly stopped breathing altogether when she tapped her finger on his knee.

“You’re hiding on the balcony because ‘Moon ‘n stuff’?”

“...Yes?”

She spared his ‘hidden’ fiddling hands a half-lidded glance. “Aang...”

“What?”

Katara flicked his arrow. Then, she waited.

Aang didn’t crack. He melted. 

“I was just—I thought…” He deflated. “I needed somewhere to think.”

Something about his words or the way that he said them made every bit of her soft. Her concern riddled him with holes, and, when she settled on the ground before him and propped her head on her arms on his knees, there was barely any of him left to keep him together.

“You wanna talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t. I just haven’t seen that look on your face since...Well, I can’t remember since when.”

One part of Aang threatened to grab the other part of him and throw him into a volcano.

He was making her worry. He should never make her worry, especially over something so silly—

He opened his mouth but hesitated. He didn't want to say no.

“Not—Not now.”

His honesty tamed her like she could feel it as easily as a temperature change. “It’s not something hurting you, right?”

Yes.

“No.”

Katara frowned with her eyes.

Then, she stood.

(Spirits, Aang loved his moonrise.)

“Take my hand.”

Aang’s heart took a trip to the tiny star just to the right of the moon.

She looked at him, and he felt hot cinders flake from his face and into his twisting belly. It sparked a fire so hot that it turned his sea of chi into an ocean of molten ore.

He was suddenly empty of something and filled to the brim with something else.

Katara’s hand was an invitation without equal, and the instinct to grab hold and never let go was a god’s hand trying to push him forward. 

He almost did.

But then his right thumb paused on his left palm, and white lightning struck him down.

Katara flinched like she felt it.

Aang curled into a knot like he could still hide it. 

Kneeling, Katara unraveled him without touching him. Her eyes found his and held him in place not like in a trap but like in a hug. Too soon his right thumb was hushed away from his left palm and his estranged hand was held close to her face. 

Aang couldn’t remember hearing her words, but he felt what she was saying.

Her sorrow nearly tore him apart.

Luckily, her smile kept his shredded heart together. 

And the kiss to his white lightning and the three points of his hand’s arrow put air back into his lungs. He dove into the cool-blue look she gave him and drowned himself in all that she was. 

He was filled with clouds so puffy that they threatened to let loose their rain, but his eyes became only wet and never misty. He smiled beyond the limits of what anatomy allowed when her face turn as red as his felt.

She said something that put his pieces back together, and she looked at him with something that gave him the strength. Cherry-red metal poured from a kiln and wept up her neck and into her cheeks.

Katara rolled her eyes to something that wasn’t there, disappeared inside, and returned with a mass of blankets.

“What are all the blankets for?”

“Moon ‘n stuff,” Katara said as she finished her nest of comforters and fortified quilt walls. 

Then she offered her hand again—she slipped it loosely into his own and waited for him to hold her first. 

“Sit with me.”

Aang shouldn’t have been as giddy as he was, and Katara pursed her smile like she was struggling not to enjoy his happiness too much when she tugged him up from the ground and laid with him against cushioned concrete. 

Moon ‘n Stuff was laughing and pointing out funny bits in constellations of their own designs. It was gossiping all the good rumors and their hopes about which of them might be true.

Katara crowned him King of their Chateau of Comforters with the softest blanket she had. It was blue and smelled like mornings when he could sleep in and like the small joys of finding warm things in cold places.

Katara accepted his invitation into his Blanket Castle within their Comforter Chateau. The blanket was plenty big for both of them and tied them together in a fuzzy cocoon.

She relaxed against him like she was sinking into warm water. The air that left her was fast at first like she just saw something she dearly missed. Every exhale after that was slow and satisfied—drunk on the indescribable and bewitched by the unimaginable. Aang felt her every movement so clearly that he wasn’t sure whether to give thanks or repent for the precious moment she was creating with him.

But then she shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable enough.

And she dragged an eye open to glare at any critter’s sound breaking their peace.

That was when Aang understood.

That was also when Aang lost it.

The urge to laugh was so overwhelming that it didn’t process into the bodily function, instead filling him from toe to brim with small giggles and soft feelings.

Katara didn’t want to share.

Of course, she didn’t.

Their moments were their moments, and he was hers and hers alone.

Master Katara was a being without equal, but Aang knew that which even she didn’t know.

Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now.

Aang’s confidence limped back to him and convinced his estranged left hand to sidle towards hers. He touched the back of it with two fingers—an almost mute invitation, an almost silent knock on the door.

Katara laced her fingers with his like it was the most natural thing in the world. She handled it not like it was something wounded but like it was something precious, and she kissed all of his knuckles before cooling his white lightning with the gentle touches of her snowy-soft palm.

The hands were the most sacred part of a bender. They were the outlets from which their soul leaked. They were the culmination of all of their senses to interact with the world.

Aang’s world shyly smiled and fiddled with her hair. She shifted like she couldn’t decide on which spot against him or which way to hold him would bring them as close as she wanted. 

She wouldn’t even look at him for fear of changing color and state of matter from beautiful young woman to gorgeous little puddle.

She blushed like something beautiful coming into bloom.

Then, she said something.

Her words bypassed all feeling and branded themselves onto his heart

“...want to be my boyfriend? O-Only if you want to...because I want to, so...um...”

She inhaled on the word like she was telling good news and hoping for the universe to talk back to her.

Aang’s current incarnation threatened to be kicked out from under him and reborn into the Water Tribes.

His head nodded like it was trying to make a break for it.

Katara laughed like it was the only language she knew.

They shared each others’ smiles in a shy kiss that felt like a brushing of souls—like the gentle zap of lightning between earth and sky that brought beauty and shook all that they knew but brought with it no scars or destruction.

She squeezed his hand.

He kissed her again just because he could.

White lightning and snowy-soft touches connected what made them each other.

Aang wilted like soggy grass, full of that which gave him life and drunk on all that she gave him.

His hand didn’t hurt anymore. His heart was starting to ache, though. It was going to burst if he looked at her for much longer.

His night got darker when Katara closed her eyes, but he welcomed the weakness his rising full moon gave him.

She fell asleep against his side, and even when Aang no longer felt his arm, he didn’t dare move.

The balcony was empty except for them, and his heart was full of only her.

Katara mumbled once, shifted twice, and adjusted her grip to hug the whole of his arm.

She was hardly doing anything, but her doing nothing did everything to him.

Aang’s courage found him just as Katara found her new favorite spot.

He kissed her cheek, but, if he was being honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

“...I love you.”

He only remembered how her smile felt.

***************************************

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I hope you enjoyed, Anon! I know this isn’t Katara doing “nothing”, per se, but this is what my mush-brain put down when I sat and wrote😅  (I did, however, tuck that little ”doing nothing” idea away for different ficlet👀)

[corpse--diem]

Blinding Lights | Marley & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @detectivedreameater LOCATION: Nichols Funeral Home SUMMARY: Another accident sends Marley back to the man and the tree, returning with more questions than answers. Marley and Erin finally get (1) good thing. CONTENT WARNINGS: Car accident tw (mentions), head trauma tw

There was something light floating around her stomach. It was small and airy, carrying her up the stairs in record speed. If it wasn’t for the ferocity within the way it moved, Erin may never have noticed it to begin with. But it was there and it felt dangerously close to something she was afraid to call hope. She wouldn’t call it that. Not out loud. Even if it was true, the phrasing was cheesy and it was just her luck that verbalizing it would snuff out the small light like a candle on a windy day. So she stowed it away, protected it within herself and remained patient as it fought to grow. Felt like it was working. It didn’t have to be this way. Things didn’t need to be so unbalanced. They didn’t need to incite a war or recklessly take things into their own hands to dig themselves out of holes they never saw coming. Living, just living, was hard enough for most. The possibility of adding balance to a world that punished the disadvantaged and ruined the naive? To personally be the one righting wrongs she understood intimately with a flick of her wrist? Or snap--Josephine always snapped. She’d have to ask her about that. Either way, it seems almost too good to be true. She needed to think, needed space and quiet so she could listen for the sound of the other shoe falling from somewhere.

“Marley?” She called out into the hallway, fingers flexing at her sides as she searched for the other woman. At this point, she’d been staying with Erin longer than she’d been at her own home. Erin found she didn’t mind that at all. Water ran on the other side of the door. “Hey! When you’re done in there, come find me in the kitchen. I need to pick your brain about something.” She paused, listening more sounds. “Okay?”

A hot bath had sounded like just what Marley needed. She’d looked up online for things that might help aching cuts, and balked at the suggestion of using something called epsom salt and had immediately stopped looking. The internet was never helpful. So, just normal hot water it would be. Her limbs still felt stiff, even after sleeping almost a week straight, and the bite marks on her arms were fading into little, blue scabs that looked like someone had played connect the dots on her skin but forgot to connect them. She stuck a hand under to test the temperature, nodding when she felt satisfied with it. Being at Erin’s meant she still had on a pair of cotton shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, despite being alone in the bathroom. She didn’t exactly have her own room here, even if it felt like she spent much more of her time here than at her own house. She didn’t want to go home. She was even planning on asking Erin if she could move JD and Jose here. Maybe that was too much to ask, but it would save both her and Erin from needing to run across town just to feed a hare with antlers a slab of meat and make sure the tarantula had water. She’d put Jose on the same feeding schedule as herself, a nice weekly meal with snacks sprinkled in between.

Tonight was a relaxation night, though, and when Marley turned back to the tub to turn it off, something peculiar caught her eye. It was her own reflection, but there was something off about it. Last she’d checked, it was still the middle of the afternoon, and with summer drawing nearer, that meant the sun sat longer in the sky. And yet, her eyes were glowing red in her reflection. Furrowing her brows, she reached out to disturb the surface of the water and as the ripples broke up the image of her face, something else appeared. It looked as if it were floating just beneath the surface, a strange, enchanting looking world. It drew clearer and cleared the more the water settled and Marley was entranced by it. She reached her hand out for it and watched it disappear into the strange hole that had opened up in the water. And as she stared at it more, she realized what it was-- it was that place. The place in her head. The place she kept trying to get back to. The place with answers. She wanted to go there. She had no control of herself when her head plunged into the water. The illusion rippled away, but Marley wasn’t in her head anymore. Her body convulsed uselessly as it struggled to breath.

There was an uncharacteristic silence on the other end of the door. Marley probably just hadn’t heard Erin over the rush of water. Another few seconds went by with just the sound of the faucet--then a thud. Water splashed to the tiled floor. “...Marley?” She tried again with sharp knocks punctuating her voice. Nothing. And again. And again. There was a fearful shrill to her voice by the fifth call. That was when the splashing started. “Alright, I’m coming in! This is your only warning!” The silence that followed was one of the worst things she’d ever endured and what she saw next was worse. Confirmed all the icy prickles needling at the back of her neck. She was here. Half-submerged and still clothed. Her eyes were closed like she was simply napping and the haunting peacefulness on her face--an expression the funeral director was all too intimate with--shook her to her very core. The next few moments were a wet blur as she hauled Marley out of the water and onto the tile below. She wasn’t breathing. She wasn’t fucking breathing. Erin’s hands shook as she Did she know CPR? There was some disco song you were supposed to hum along to, right? Every direction her mind ran tangled into each other and only worsened when she couldn’t get Marley to look up at her no matter how hard she shook her shoulders. That’s when the anger kicked in. She could feel it taking over, like her mind had just shifted into autopilot. She wasn’t losing her. Not today and not like this. “Marley, c’mon,” she muttered, starting the motions, her hands pumping down on her chest. “Wake up. Wake up!”

Marley’s eyes snapped open and she was lying on the cold ground. Fog swirled around her. She’d made it. She was back. She stood up and water dripped from her hair, her clothes. It left puddles under her feet. For a moment, she coughed, choked. Water dribbled from her mouth but she ignored it. She forged forward, towards the tree. The man was there again. Marley tried to call out to him, but it came out just a gurgle. She reached for him but her arms felt too heavy. He saw her and his eyes widened and he shook his head. “You can’t be here!” he said again, but Marley wanted answers. She needed answers. She’d fallen through portals and lived through a car crash and having her skull crushed and being beaten down again and again and again and she needed answers.

But her legs fought against her. They sloshed in water that was filling up the space between herself and the tree and the man. Each step sunk her further into the ground. It was swallowing her. Her chest hurt. She felt her lungs bursting. Water poured from her mouth. Something felt like it was pounding on her chest. Pounding, pounding. She wanted to stay. She needed answers. “Please,” she begged through the water in her throat, “I just need answers. Who are you?” He didn’t answer. He was sinking into the water, too. “Why do I keep coming here?” The water was rushing up to her chest, her neck. “Who am I!?” The water rose above her head and she sunk like a rock, black swallowing her up. Until--

Marley sputtered and gasped and choked as she spat up water. Someone was above her. The lights were so bright. She coughed again and turned her head to the side as she spat up more water, more spit, more bile. Her chest ached, her whole body ached again. She drew in a deep breath but didn’t say a word. She couldn’t speak. She wanted to go back.

Time seemed to drag on endlessly as Erin desperately waited for life to shudder back into Marley’s limp body. She couldn’t have been under long she guessed, judging from the timing of the noises she heard. Long enough, it seemed. In the same moment Marley’s lungs coughed up the contents of her bath water, a resounding chill crept up her spine. A chill easily overlooked in the moment. A chill that, Erin didn’t doubt, was just a reaction to the multitude of emotions that spilled out of her. If she remembered it all later, she’d realize it was far from that. But that wasn’t important right now.

As she wanted her lungs fight for air, a cry of her own broke through Marley’s sputtering. It was only when her vision blurred that Erin realized she was crying. Fat, wet tears dropping down her cheeks as steadily as the water overflowing onto the floor. “Hey, hey,” her voice soothed out, brushing back wet hair from her face as she choked up water, trying to persuade her with gentle prods to stay down. The relief was overwhelming but there wasn’t a word in the english language to describe how over she was with this bullshit. Had it even been a week since she’d nearly lost her to a portal? Now her own bathroom wasn’t safe? What was? “You’re okay,” she repeated, leaning forward instead to wrap her arms around her. She was breathing at least. That was a start. That was a very good start. She pulled away when she realized how hard she was squeezing her. “Sorry, I’m sor--don’t try to talk yet. Just lay there and take deep breaths for me right now. Okay?”

Marley sputtered. She wanted to go back. She had so many questions, still. Why had the tree done that? What was the shimmer? Why did he keep telling her not to come back? But then there was a voice above her, and someone was holding her, hugging her, tightly to them, and Marley remembered that she couldn’t go back. She had someone here. She had people here. She had a something more here. Marley blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus. Her head was pounding, and her throat hurt. She opened her mouth to talk, but then Erin told her not to. Why shouldn’t she talk? She didn’t remember what happened. Her body felt so stiff, so pained. Hadn’t she just gotten over that? From the portals? So, then, this wasn’t portal pain. She looked up into Erin’s eyes, blinking. “What--” she choked, “where…” Her head spun, the world above her spun. Every time she blinked, she saw words and faces etched against the back of her eyelids. She lifted her hands to press them into her eyes, trying to shake the feeling away. “Where am I?” she finally managed to mumble out.

“You’re with me. It’s okay,” Erin answered, straining to keep the panic from her voice and gingerly helped her turn onto her side, hand running down her back. Water pooled around her knees and she cursed under her breath. Reluctantly, she let go of Marley, scrambling and sliding to turn the faucet off. “You had an accident. Uh--a seizure, I guess and I found you in--” Her words were shaky no matter what she did and she couldn’t finish her thought as she peered down at Marley’s soaked, stiff form. Stiff. Like a corpse. Almost. Her throat grew dry. “You’re okay,” she assured her again, fingers moving along her head and neck, checking for damage under wet hair and clothes. The water was clear, no blood staining any droplets. That was a good sign, if she could find anything positive right now. Her ribs. Oh fuck. She’d just been pounding on her chest and her ribs were still healing. “I’m sorry, I had to--” she murmured without thinking, then quickly stopped and shook her head. “Just take a breath. A lot of breaths. Slow though, and try not to move too much right now.” She’d never assisted in a near drowning before but if that sounded like the right course. Here was hoping. Taking her own advice, she let out a long, heavy one herself. She couldn’t help her if she wasn’t settled herself. Something felt off. Something she couldn’t shake the longer she watched Marley struggling for breath. A suffocating dread that didn’t and wouldn’t loosen itself from her own lungs. She was quiet for a long moment before she managed a softer tone. “How are you feeling?”

You’re with me. Marley was confused. She knew it was Erin, but her brain was confused. She hadn’t been with Erin before, right? She’d been in that place. She’d seen it again. She wanted to go back. She had to stay here. Blinking, she coughed again, water dribbling from her mouth. Hands planted on the ground, cool linoleum against her palms. She shivered. There was something in the room with them. Something had happened again. She tried to push herself up but collapsed against the floor again. Erin was telling her not to move, just to breathe, but something wasn’t right. Bewildered, Marley looked back up at her. “I--” didn’t know what to say. She felt words dying on her tongue, drowned by the water in her lungs still. “Feel like shit,” she mumbled, putting her head in her hands. Her chest ached again. The world around her seemed to glitch for a moment-- it felt like a tear and a fear creeped back up her spin. Was it another portal? Opening here? No, no. It righted itself almost immediately and she blinked again. “Sorry,” she managed to grumble out, still laying on the floor, trying to catch her breath, “don’t know what happened. That’s never-- happened before.”

Erin’s eyes narrowed with shocked concern. “What? No, don’t be--” She shook her head again, trying to press Marley back down while reaching for the closest dry towel to put under her head. Feeling like shit tracked, considering. “What do you mean?” This was far from Marley’s first seizure. Erin had been present for enough of them to know how to handle that part. Make her comfortable, make sure she was safe, hydrated and to just be there until she came back to herself. This was what she’d been afraid of--of not being here. Between this and the car accident, and all the dangers that Marley encountered just existing in this town? She was exhausted and terrified and she wasn’t even the one who was actively enduring these traumas. Her mind jumped back to a few weeks ago and she settled onto her knees beside her, giving her space for now, pulling her shaky hands into her lap to calm them. “Was this like--before? Like when it was getting really bad?”

Marley scrunched her brows, trying to figure out how to say it. She didn’t really know what she meant, just that it had felt different this time. She had felt both pulled and repulsed from that place, like she needed to be there, she knew there were answers there-- but that place didn’t want her there. It didn’t. She didn’t care, she needed to go back. “Just-- different,” she answered, her mind still trying to keep up. “Not bad. Not like last time.” She wanted to reassure Erin, but she couldn’t find the right words. She laid her head down on the towel, wet hair still clinging to her face. “Just wrong place, wrong time I guess,” she muttered, finally moving her head to look up at Erin. Clarity found its way into her head for the first time since she’d sprung awake with water in her lungs. She even managed to smile. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

Erin wasn’t sure what ‘different’ meant in this capacity, and with the way Marley struggled to explain, she had a feeling she didn’t exactly know either. She didn’t press it. For now. Wrong place, wrong time. She hated that too. Hated the lack of security that hung from those words and the implication that this kind of thing could have happened anywhere or that, inevitably, it could and probably happen again. Maybe not to this same degree but after a car accident and now this? Her stomach tied into thin, tight knots and she slumped to her knees into a puddle on the floor beside Marley. “You never do. And yet…” She tilted her head towards her, reaching to brush the hair from Marley’s face. The skin beneath her fingertips was clammy and cold but it was still comforting all the same and grew warmer the longer she held them against her cheek. Comforting because the warmth meant she was still with her. Still here. “You really, really scared me this time,” she said quietly, aware of how vulnerable even that small confession made her feel. “We should get you off this wet floor. Can you stand up yet? Do you need a few minutes?”

Marley stayed quiet and still, as Erin laid beside her, fingers brushing her cheek. This was new and strange and she felt so strangely vulnerable yet safe. How was that even possible? Her stomach churned. She’d wanted so bad to go back to that place, but would that mean leaving Erin behind? Would it mean leaving her here to find Marley’s body cold and lifeless? She took in a breath and held it. “I can probably stand,” she said on the release of her breath, “might just need some help.” Need somebody to lean on. She’d never assumed her life would be one that could be something for someone, could mean something for someone. But that’s why she’d done it, right? That’s why she’d pushed Erin out of the way of Roy’s anger and taken the hit herself. She’d meant something to someone and she couldn’t let something that precious die when she had the ability to save it. “Think you can manage?”

Erin’s chest constricted with each breath, like little tears lining her lungs making every inhale sharper than the last. Something was different. Not just the seizure or whatever was going on in Marley’s head, or even the brief waver she’d felt in the air earlier. The longer she sat here, the harder it was for her to pretend that she didn’t notice the extra beat between her ribs whenever their eyes met a little too long. “Yeah,” she nodded vigorously to make up for the way her voice cracked. “For you? Yeah, I think I can handle it.” Flashed a smile her way as she moved to stand, using the towel to dry some of the path. She groaned at the water dripping down from the side of the tub, splashing against the shallow flood slowly but surely enveloping the tiny room’s tiles. It wasn’t until now she realized she was nearly as soaked as Marley. Her black dress shirt clung to her skin, a heavy nuisance as she maneuvered around the other woman. “Christ, you made a mess in here, you know,” she chided gently, helping Marley to her feet, holding her close to both steady and support as they made their way towards Erin’s bedroom. “I don’t know what you do after something like this. Which means you know I’m going to have to call your doctor again so don’t even bother arguing with me about it. After we get you dried off,” she paused her nervous ramblings, glancing over to raise a brow in Marley’s direction. “Unless you still need to take that bath?”

Marley was quiet again. Erin was talking and saying things. Her voice was cracking, even though she was trying to give her usual witty banter to Marley. Trying to make anything feel normal or okay about this. Marley didn’t have much to say about any of it, though. She just took Erin’s hand gratefully and leaned against her and wondered why her chest felt like it was still being pushed on, as if someone was still trying to pump air into her lungs to the rhythm of Stayin’ Alive. She sagged against her and just smiled, despite herself. There wasn’t much to smile about, but how could she not? Her legs were jelly, and her arms felt like swinging ornaments at her sides. “Not unless you wanna go with me,” she mumbled, her mind not quite registering her words in its still strained state.

Marley was handling the walk better than she expected for what she’d just gone through. Worry still wracked Erin’s entire body but every even step elicited tendrils of relief that worked to calm her mind. But not her heart and not when she saw that smile on Marley’s face. Erin’s steadiness shattered at the innocent quip, standing with Marley still just as they were reaching the bed. She didn’t know what she was saying. An offhand comment. That was all. Exhaustion crinkled at the corner of her eyes. She was exhausted. And tonight, Erin had almost lost her. The weight of that sunk in, heavy and harsh enough in this silence to sink her in place. She’d almost lost her. Death was a familiar concept in these walls but attaching that concept to Marley wasn’t something her mind could wrap itself around. Death dwelled in most of this house but it didn’t belong in here. And not on Marley. Not yet. There was still time. They still had time.

She couldn’t manage the words to fill this new, awkward quiet. The only thing she could muster was a half smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Marley’s clothes, which already had a place in one of her drawers, were dropped onto the bed next before Erin realized she’d stepped aside to grab them. Time felt weird and she was painfully aware of the absence her hand left now. “I should go call the doctor, see what I need to do--” she gestured with her thumb behind her but her mind was elsewhere and her sentence frayed off with it. She started slow steps backwards when she stopped again only a few feet from the door. A sudden spark of fleeting annoyance across her face, straightening her shoulders almost indignantly. “You can’t just say things like that. I’m not--you can’t--just don’t, okay?”

It wasn’t like Erin to be silent like this, but Marley let her be and focused on careful footsteps as they made it down the hall to the bedroom. Her mind wasn’t exactly gone, but it wasn’t quite there either, she was still trying to fight off visions of that place, with the tree, the man, the strange world. She sank onto the bed when they made it in, and still, Erin hadn’t said anything. She was sitting on the bed beside Marley for a moment, before she moved away, almost mechanically, over to the dresser, where some of Marley’s clothes had been stored. She’d never stored her clothes at another person’s place before. Not even with Anita. She’d left jackets and pants and boots behind-- sometimes even bras or underwear-- but never a drawer full of anything. It was strange how not strange it was here, with Erin.

She put her hands on the pile of clothes and nodded as Erin got back up and headed towards the door. Call the doctor, good idea. Probably a good idea. Not really much a doctor could do about having a seizure in the tub, but probably a good idea that she knew it happened. Marley was still getting used to that idea. Then Erin was talking again and her voice was harsher and Marley was confused a moment. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Felt her chest clenching, like ice in her heart. “Okay,” was all she said. She’d pushed too far again, just like when she’d kissed Erin in front of their stupid Christmas presents. She swallowed and nodded to herself, slowly reaching to peel the wet shirt off her body.

Erin stood for a moment, waiting to see if Marley was going to say anything else. When she didn’t, the guilt that trickled in for her small outburst fueled her frustration. She knew it was unfair and unwarranted but all she could manage was an “Okay” in return, short and cross like moments ago but flavored with uncertainty. Turning on her heel, her cheeks flushed red as she rushed out the door. What was she doing? She stopped, turned to stomp back into the room. Stopped again just outside the door. No. This was stupid. She was being stupid. And she wasn’t done.

Her throat ran dry as she stormed back in, tripping over some of the gusto that fell to the floor with Marley’s shirt. She tried again. “No. No. It’s not okay, you asshole. You can’t just flirt with me after you almost died in my arms in my bathroom or after disappearing into a portal for a week with no word. Not when I’m trying so, so hard to not think about Christmas or how you let a woman you love and fought for just... walk away. For me.” She was rambling again, she knew it, grabbing at snippets of their recent past in a frenzied rush. But she couldn’t stop it either. There was a point. She was getting there. She was sure of it. For once she didn’t think, she was too tired to think and too tired to fight. So she continued, the anger dissolving from her voice the longer she spoke. Her eyes fell to her’s, raw and open, like she was torn from stem to sternum. “I love you. Like in a really big, annoying way that keeps me up at night and makes me call the police station a thousand times when I can’t find you.” She stared for a moment, realizing what she’d done, the words that had actually come out of her mouth and froze. “So… no, Marley. It’s not okay.”

Erin left and that really shoulda been that. Marley didn’t expect what happened next. Maybe she should have, but she didn’t. How could she have? People didn’t love her, not really. Anita hadn’t loved her as much as she had thought, and maybe Marley wasn’t as capable of it as she thought she was. She’d fought tooth and nail to figure out how she could love, if someone like her could love. If loving meant she wasn’t a monster anymore, or if she wasn’t a monster at all because she was loved. Her eyes went up to Erin’s when she came storming back in, but she still didn’t speak, hands dropping as she let go of her shirt, dropping it to the floor. She listened and waited and felt her insides doing something strange. Her throat felt tight, so tight, but there was too much oxygen in her lungs, now, and her head felt like it was floating. She just stared at Erin, for a long time, even after she’d finished her little tirade. She didn’t mind. No, she didn’t mind at all.

Maybe she’d known it when she’d first looked at her phone and found over 30 missed calls and more missed messages. Maybe she’d known when Erin had nearly cried over her car accident. Maybe she’d known when Erin looked at her with those eyes after Marley told her she’d let Anita leave for her. Maybe she’d known when Erin was the one who stuck around after Marley pushed everyone else away. Maybe she’d known the second she’d pushed Erin out of Roy’s warpath.

Maybe she’d just always known. She didn’t move, just smiled. “I love you, too.”

Erin stood stunned to her spot. Speechless as she watched Marley’s lips curl up into a smile and let those four words repeat in her head. Let them sink in. She had said that, right? The smile confirmed it. Marley didn’t smile much, not like that, but she was smiling at her and Erin slowly smiled back. Her entire body unclenched, slowly sagging with relief as tense muscles calmed. Marley didn’t say anything else after her rambling speech and it while she felt the irritation nagging under her skin for it, but she supposed that was part of the reason she loved her, huh? Somewhere along the line, it’d become as endearing as it was annoying. She wouldn’t change it for anything though.

She slipped onto the bed next to her, out of words, a little shy but still smiling. And sure. Her eyes searched hers for a moment, dropping briefly to her lips, then back up. Felt a warmth spread through her when she remembered Christmas, how familiar and right Marley’s lips were against her own. It’d been terrifying at the time and she understood with alarming clarity why exactly that was. Tentatively, her fingers grazed against her cheek, over the scars that marred her cheek and her chest swelled as she leaned in closer. She didn’t want to think about anything outside of this room, about cleaning up the bathroom or calling the doctor. She’d get there. She would. She always did. Right now she just wanted to feel that familiarity again. “Can I--?”

The moments between Marley’s confession and Erin moving towards her were like long, arduous eons. Even though Erin had confessed the words first, Marley hadn’t been able to find anything more to say than those few back. She wasn’t sure there was anything to say, even though the flicker of annoyance across Erin’s face-- something she recognized oh so well, how many times had she seen it when Marley had said something stupid? It was as frustrating as it was endearing-- told her that might not be true. She blamed it on having almost drowned. Once again, her breath left her, but it wasn’t taken by water, only by fingers grazing across her cheek, over the scars that she sometimes forgot existed, until she saw her reflection in anything. She reached up and put her hand over Erin’s. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said.

Erin’s heart pounded furiously in her chest and for the first time in a long time it wasn’t because she was running from the horrors that popped up like weeds in this town. Pluck one out and another popped up in its place the next day. There was fear, she wouldn’t deny that. But this was Marley. She was safe with her, and she was loved, and there was no more hesitation when she closed the distance between their lips. Her fingers threaded into her hair, slow and sure. Cautious of her injuries as she pulled her closer--and she was right about before. This was right and it was hard not to quickly lose herself in the peace that her touch brought. When she pulled away, she kept her forehead pressed to hers as she caught her breath, eyes closed, a small smile stuck in place at the corner of her lips. “I’m sorry I yelled,” she murmured on a soft breath, pulling her head up to find her eyes properly again, soft and vulnerable. And uncertain--but just for a moment. Just when she remembered how spectacularly terrible Christmas had ended. “Is this still okay?”

As a mara, Marley had the ability to take people’s breath. But the second Erin’s lips touched her, it was exactly the opposite, as someone else was now stealing hers. And she didn’t care. She liked it. A lot. She lifted her own hands, cupping Erin’s face, kissing her back. Finally kissing her again, after she’d thought about it for so long. She never thought she’d get this, not again. Not after she’d chosen to leave it the first time. And not Erin, surely not Erin. Not stubborn, unstoppable, compassionate Erin. So fragile, so human Erin. She pulled away and leaned her forehead against Marley’s and Marley looked at her with unblinking eyes. “S’okay,” she mumbled, both tired and giddy from everything that had happened, was still happening, “I deserved it a little.” Maybe a lot. She didn’t know. She just kissed her again. That would answer her question, right? It was okay. It was so okay. It was more than okay. It felt natural, it felt like there wasn’t six months between this kiss and the last one. It felt like she’d always been kissing her, holding her. It felt unreal. Maybe she was dreaming. She didn’t know what that felt like, but it was possible, if it’d happened before. But, no-- this felt too real to be anything like that. It was even more real than that place, with the tree. Too real. She pulled away again to breathe. “I saw that place again,” she mumbled, “when I--” almost drowned. She didn’t want to keep things from Erin. She should probably know. “It keeps trying to...pull me back.”

You didn’t, was on the tip of Erin’s tongue when got her answer in the most Marley way possible. Not a single word necessary. This time she didn’t mind. Didn’t huff or tilt her head in annoyance when she didn’t get the verbal response she thought she wanted. By some near-fatal, miraculous series of events, this had turned out better than she could have hoped for. Almost too good to be true. But that wasn’t entirely accurate. Every part of their relationship was riddled with scars and the general wear and tear of rough edges colliding. There wasn’t a day that had gone by since Marley had dropped that body bag into her basement over a year ago that hadn’t required work. It was good, hard, important work. The kind of work not many people in their lives would dedicate to strengthening a sustainable foundation. Somewhere along the line, they’d managed it. The thought comforted her and she let herself slip into an embrace that felt new and comfortable and made her heart pound furiously all at once. Her eyes struggled to open, her mind reluctant to return to her as Marley spoke. “Pull you back?” Definitely didn’t like the sound of that. Straightening, she sat back, unprepared to digest this new information when that had just happened. “It’s the same place? Again? What do you--I don’t understand. Are you sure? What do they want? And why do they want you?”

If it weren’t for the weariness growing in Marley’s bones, she would have asked to stay like that. But her strength was slowly waning, and visions of that place were coming back to her like old film reels. This strange yet familiar feeling building inside of her was the only thing keeping her grounded, keeping her from drifting back away. She could feel something heavy in her muscles, and looked down to the bite marks that marred her body, both healed but unable to heal completely. “I’m sure,” she said, “I don’t-- don’t think it’s anyone. Think it’s more...the place.” The feeling of it. The idea that there could be answers there. Answers she needed. Marley scrubbed at her eyes. She hadn’t felt such exhaustion since getting back from the portal. “Don’t think it wants me, either. I keep coming back, don’t I?”

“So... it keeps pulling you in and then spitting you back out? What’s the point of that?” Erin questioned, though she was sure Marley was just as confused as she was. Astral realms, dream scapes? She was only just now getting a firmer idea of how the magic Josephine kept promising her functioned. But this? This blew her comfort level right out of the water. “How often is this happening? Just when you’re sleeping? Or when you get hit with a seizure? Both?” That tension in muscles crept their way back up her shoulders again when it became clear this had become a priority. Her safety was always at the top of that list. “I don’t know how the hell to help you with this but I can’t try if you don’t talk to me.” Right there was one of the cracks in that foundation. Old habits die hard, Erin supposed. She took her hand, pulling it into Erin’s lap with both of hers. “Is there more I don’t know?”

“Don’t really know,” Marley answered quietly. Words were quickly failing her. Her eyes were drooping fast. “I think it’s like-- some part of me is still there. From when I-- when I almost, you know.” She motioned to her head. “That was the first time I saw it. I didn’t know what it was or where I was. Kinda thought it might’ve been hell or some bullshit like that.” Not that she really believed in a hell. Death was just death, and it ended in nothing and a rotting body. “Not very often,” she answered. She didn’t want to tell Erin the truth behind it, but she had to. She knew she had to. “It only happens when I-- get close to that again. Close to--” dying. She swallowed. “It’s gotta be about that, then, right? About dying.”

“Dying? You think almost dying keeps triggering this?” Erin couldn’t stop the scoff that followed. “No. That’s--” Erin turned to face her better, poised to argue that her theory was a little dramatic. But it wasn’t. Proof soaked her damp dress shirt just the same as it marked bruises down Marley’s ribs. Between the car accident, the portal incident and now this? “Too often, you mean,” she corrected. Most people had heard about those supposed out of body experiences when someone was on the brink of death. Distinctly remembered rolling her eyes and laughing at some of the stuff people came up with and wondered how much Unsolved Mysteries paid for this particular brand of garbage. Her eyes dropped to their fingers and she shrugged one shoulder. “If that’s the case, then this whole thing’s already solved. Stop almost dying. There. Done. Personally, I’d appreciate it.”

Marley was quiet for a moment. She knew Erin was both serious and joking. Her tone didn’t sound like it was, but she had to know the dangers of this town, of Marley’s job, of Marley’s species. She was forced to feed on other sentient beings, and even some of the more heinous monsters-- like vampires and zombies-- even looked down on the mara for it. At least they could feed on animals. At least they didn’t destroy a person completely while feeding from them. She drew in a breath. “Not sure it’s all that easy, but I’ll give it a try,” she answered, tugging on her hand. Squeezed it. “I’ll do my best. Wouldn’t wanna leave JD and Jose all alone in your care, anyway. Do you even know how often Jose molts?” She grinned, trying to make things light. Trying to pull them away from the shadows that look like the ones that had tried to eat Marley alive in that portal. The ones that still tried.

Erin wanted to laugh, could feel it tickling her chest, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes right away. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Which means I’m going to need you to try harder than you have been. And if you can’t do it for me, do it for JD and Jose because there’s no way in hell you’re sadling me with an oversized hare with horns and a giant spider. No. Absolutely not.” Her head shook through that last sentence and her words came out sure, but they probably both knew she was just making a liar out of herself if it ever came down to it. She kept glancing down at their hands unconsciously. Was this their normal now? Just like that? Question after question piled up on her tongue. About this. About them. About this place that kept trying to pull her away. One look at the exhaustion in Marley’s eyes held them all back. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she looked at her hands one more time before finding Marley’s again. “Whatever you need, you’ve got it. We’ll figure this out.” She smiled again, nudging her arm gently. “We took on a supernatural crime boss. This isn’t anything we can handle. Probably. Either way, it’s just a bad dream we’ll forget all about in a few years time.” Placing her other hand on top of the once in her lap, she took a breath, eyes lingering respectfully, and briefly, along Marley’s exposed skin before she turned away. “You should finish getting dressed and lie down. I’ve got a bathroom to deflood.”

“Tarantula,” Marley corrected, “she’s a tarantula.” A question popped into her head, though, and Marley had to wonder if this was fair. Erin was talking about about years, and Marley...didn’t expect to live anymore than about two more. She’d never even expected to get this far. Not with what she was, the way she lived. She was surprised death hadn’t come for her yet. It had certainly tried, several times. And yet she was still here. Maybe she could try and stick around for a few extra, then, if it was for Erin. She could probably pull that off. “I can’t dream, remember?” she teased, squeezing Erin’s hand when she looked down at their hands again. Did it not feel real enough? Marley wanted to make sure Erin knew it was real. She lifted a hand from their laps and curled her fingers around Erin’s chin before she leaned in again and kissed her. She wasn’t always good with words, but actions-- she could do those. She was good at that. “I’ll do it for you,” she said, before she let go of her, reluctantly, and reached back around to the dry clothes placed next to her, “JD and Jose can take care of themselves. You seem like you need a hand through all this.” A tease as she smirked at her. There was probably shit they needed to talk about, she’d learned that lesson already with Anita, but for tonight, they could rest in the knowledge that it was finally real. “Go clean up the bathroom. Just come back soon.”

[sidnihoudini]

Fork & Knife: Breaking a Bed

PHILADELPHIA JUNE 2016 WIZARD WORLD CON

“Fuck,” Chris laughs, pausing to reach for the headboard.

He rests his forearm on it and shifts more weight up onto his knees. Underneath him, Seb is bent in half, calves hanging in the air on either side of Chris’s waist.

“Why the hell are you stopping?” he demands.

Chris looks down at him, all bent up and flushed, wet dick on his belly and chain twisted around his neck.

“Can you hear that?” Chris asks, out of breath. They stare at each other. “I think it’s the bed.”

Seb raises his eyebrows and announces, “Wouldn’t be the first time!”

It is true. Chris laughs and belatedly yanks one of the pillows out from behind Seb’s shoulder to stretch up and wedge it between the top of the headboard and the wall.

“That’s better,” he announces, dropping back on top of Seb. He holds himself up with a hand on the mattress on either side of Seb’s head, and raises his eyebrows. “Where were we?”

Seb laughs and pulls him down, mouth open before Chris even gets all the way there.

“Mmm.” That’s a pretty good answer but Chris can do better. He drags himself away from their kiss and grabs the back of Seb’s thighs again, pulling his ass up to get deep. Both of Seb’s hands flop over his own chest and he stares up at the ceiling, mouth dropping open. “Oh god.”

That’s when the bed makes another creaking sound.

“You really don’t hear that?” Chris asks, slowing down again, forearms hooked behind Seb’s knees. One of Seb’s feet moves to hit him in the ear on purpose. Chris shoves it away and tilts his head to the side when it comes back again. “I’m serious!”

Seb’s eyebrows arch up into little points. “So am I!”

“Seb.” Chris can’t help laughing about it, giving one good thrust to snap Seb back to the task at hand. Seb groans but does look at him. “Am I the only one hearing this?!”

Two hands come stretching out for Chris, fingers at his jaw and then the back of his neck.

“Chris,” he complains, and Chris laughs again, bumping his forehead against the side of Seb’s face when he gets yanked in there anyway.

Then Seb arches his back up off the bed and pushes his hips left and right, dragging Chris’s dick around as he does it. Fuck. Chris’s mouth drops open and he grabs at Seb’s shoulder, groaning.

“Jesus.” He sucks at the corner of Seb’s jaw, nose bumping into all that stubble and a little bit of ear. That turns into a slow grind and then they’re fucking again, Seb’s arm locked up around Chris’s shoulders. Chris shifts his weight onto one forearm and yanks Seb’s thigh up over his hip with his free hand. “Fuck, Seb.”

Seb grins up at him and Chris has to lean back down for another kiss.

“That feels great,” Seb groans, as Chris pulls away, dipping out from under Seb’s arm to get back onto his knees.

He shuffles back and takes in the view, Seb all spread out, legs flopped on either side of his knees. Seb immediately realizes Chris is staring and starts laughing, one hand squeezing around his dick while Chris grins back at him. Chris feels him up, hands running over his calves and then up, thighs, hips, sides.

“You wanna flip?” he asks, but Seb shakes his head right away.

His breathing is all fucked up and gulpy as he says, “Feel free to,” and then pauses to tip his head back, muscles in his collarbone tightening up and jumping out. “Make a move.”

Chris laughs, a little out of breath, and looks down at Seb’s ass as he starts thrusting again, starting slow, not even pulling halfway out before he fucks back in. It feels so good Chris just holds Seb by the thighs and goes for it.

“Babe,” he grits out, banging away.

He’s bracing Seb with one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip when it happens. There’s a sharp cracking noise, loud enough it startles both of them, and then they’re falling up the mattress. Chris reflexively grabs onto the headboard again with one hand, the other wrapped around the back of Seb’s head.

They stare at each other in silence.

“Well.” Seb raises his eyebrows and starts cracking up. “You were right!”

Chris goes to shift back, because he’s fully crushing Seb, but the way the bed broke makes it hard, and then when he tries to shove against the headboard, he makes it break more, and they fall a couple more inches.

“Oh my god,” Chris finally laughs, trying to look up at the damage.

Seb tightens his arm around Chris’s middle. “Just like the Titanic.”

“Are you okay?” Chris smooths his hand over Seb’s head again. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Laughing, Seb goes to say, “I think I’m fine,” and then the room phone rings.

“Fuck,” Chris swears, laughing again. He groans and hides his face in Seb’s shoulder for a second, and then rallies and awkwardly reaches for the phone, which is now a good foot above them. “Hello?”

He stares down at Seb and feels the blush creep up his neck as Seb grins at him, tonguing his own lip.

“Oh hi, sorry to disturb you, sir,” the voice says — Chris assumes it’s the front desk attendant, and drops his head again, resting his temple against Seb’s sweaty chest as he waits for her to say it. “This is Jill from the front desk. One of your neighbors called down because they heard a crash and were concerned someone had a fall.”

Chris wrinkles his face up until his eyes close. “Oh, god. Sorry. I, well, I fell getting out of the shower,” he manages, the worst liar about anything. He feels Seb jiggling underneath him as he silently laughs. “I am… well. I’m an idiot.”

“Oh!” she sounds genuinely thrown at Chris’s admission. Chris has to laugh, bringing his free hand up to cover his whole face as he tilts his nose into Seb. “I’m… sorry to hear that?”

He is so red he can feel it creeping down into his chest. “It’s fine. Totally my fault. Thank you for checking.”

“Oh my god.” Seb laughs as Chris reaches to awkwardly hang the phone up again. He has to bang it around a little until he gets it back in the thing. “Who could have known that would happen!”

Chris grimaces down at Seb again, and Seb laughs and pulls him in for a small kiss.

“Thanks for that,” he grumps, and then laughs when Seb ignores him and kisses him again. Chris talks through it, saying, “I told you I heard something!”

He cuts himself off when Seb tightens up and squeezes around his dick.

“Can’t unbreak the bed!” Seb exclaims gleefully, stretching one arm up around Chris’s shoulders. Chris has to follow through and roll his hips into it. “Let’s go.”

*

Seb packs his bag back up and rolls out first, smacking a kiss to Chris’s mouth before he leaves.

“405,” he reminds him, tugging Chris in for another one. “See you in a minute.”

After Seb leaves, Chris begrudgingly puts his things into his backpack, eyeing the traitor bed the whole time. He doesn’t even know what to do about it. When Seb was in the shower he looked at it a little bit, but the bolt ripped right out of the wood. Maybe he could prop it up, but the second the cleaning people strip the sheets, Chris’s illusion would be ruined.

“Fuck,” he sighs to himself, shaking his head.

He leaves a tip for the cleaning people by the TV, hangs the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door handle, and dips out, hat on his head.

Seb’s room is at the opposite side of the hallway. Chris taps the thing with the card Seb gave him.

“It’s me.” He drops his bag right beside the door, tosses his hat on it, and kicks his shoes back off. “That thing is fucked.”

He walks right over to Seb, who is sitting at the edge of the bed with his phone in his hands.

“Did you check it out?” Seb grins.

Chris laughs sadly and slides his fingers through Seb’s hair, still wet from the shower.

“I emailed Megan about it,” he admits, and Seb starts cracking up. Chris raises his eyebrows, exclaiming, “I didn’t know what else to do, Seb!”

Still cracking up, Seb shakes his head and stretches to put his phone on the table.

“Well, after that very exciting night, I think I’m ready to SLEEP.” Seb arches his eyebrows as he comes back and sticks a hand up the belly of Chris’s shirt. “Are you gonna have a shower?”

Chris nods and finishes off his hair petting by tucking both side pieces back behind Seb’s ears.

“Yeah.” He tugs his shirt off and laughs when Seb yanks it out of his hands. “Hey!”

Grinning, Seb shoves him away with both hands, and then goes back to looking at his phone.

[soulmate-game]

I might make this a tumblr only mini-series of connected oneshots, and I might or might not put them up on AO3 when they are all done. We’ll see how I feel.

I know I submitted this AU to Multifandomscribette, but this is my take on the prompts I gave them. This is not the same AU, and I am not using their headcanons. Just the same basic premise of Marinette being Stephen Strange’s biological daughter.

You know Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, but this story is about

Lady Strange, the Grand Guardian.

What is with this family and alliteration?!

—*—*—*—*—*

Stephen Strange was a narcissistic, emotionally constipated bastard. But he was rich, well known, and handsome, which counted for a lot when he decided he needed some time to relax, unwind, maybe with another human.

And when Sabine Cheng realized what had happened, that night she had catered for a high society medical conference gala in the States, she vowed to never drink again.

She also vowed to never tell Strange about the child growing in her womb. The only person she ever told about her child’s true origin was Tom Dupain, the man she started dating a month after her chance encounter with Doctor Stephen Strange. Nine months after that, when Marinette was almost a month old, she would propose to Tom in blatant disregard of tradition. She would be waiting for years if she wanted Tom to get up the courage to ask her, and even though it hadn’t been a full year yet Sabine knew what she wanted. Seeing the gentle way Tom held her daughter, their daughter, seeing the way he looked at the little baby as if she hung the stars for him, well that only solidified the little Chinese woman’s love for the french man.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng would not know about her true father’s origin until she was twelve, when a science lecture at school had her asking Sabine who had blue eyes in each of their blood lines.

When Sabine hesitated, Marinette knew instantly that something was wrong. Sabine never hesitated. She was a whirlwind of decisiveness, always knowing what to say and how to act. Hesitation wasn’t a part of her.

Sabine told her everything. How her biological father was someone she only met once, how he was a successful surgeon who had won many medical awards. How he didn’t know she existed.

Of course, Marinette was immediately obsessed. Hurt by her mother’s secrecy, she turned her feelings of betrayal into curiosity and researched everything that there was to research about Stephen Strange. Apparently blue eyes ran on his side of the family. His own were more icy than hers, closer to a blue-gray, but familiar all the same. Both his parents were already dead though, so there went her hope of having another set of grandparents.

Marinette even went so far as to read the research papers he had written, and did follow-up research until she understood as much of it as she could. It helped that Professor Mendeleiev was more than willing to sit down and go over the medical papers with her so they could try to understand it all together.

One day, while Marinette was sewing a new dress, she paused with her needle in the air and stared at her fingers. After that day, she took much more pride than before in how steady her hands were. Her father was a surgeon, it must have been a biological trait. She clung onto anything that connected her to the oh-so mysterious Stephen Strange.

And then came Marinette’s thirteenth birthday. The same day that Stephen Strange was in a car accident and deemed in critical condition.

If Marinette kept an app for American news sources on her phone and set them to alert her if the name of her biological father was mentioned in any reports? Well, her parents didn’t need to know.

She didn’t tell her parents about the reason she was so morose for the rest of the day. She didn’t tell anyone.

She cried herself to sleep when Doctor Stephen Strange was declared to have irreversible nerve damage in his hands, and again when he went missing on a mysterious “vacation” that no media sites seemed to have any information on. She didn’t know why she felt so much connection and pain for someone she had never met, but she couldn’t help it. She would keep researching, keeping her eyes out for any mention of the man online without any luck.

That is, until Master Fu and the Miraculous entered her life. Slowly, she began to neglect her obsession with her biological father. Her passing crush on Adrien Agreste even faded away, never having much traction to begin with because of her overlying concern for the father that didn’t even know he had a daughter.

When Marinette was fourteen, the city of Paris was flooded and she had to swim through the quickly bloating bodies of the dead in order to defeat an Akuma. She reversed the damage and everyone who died was resurrected with no memory of their demise, but Marinette would never forget. All it took was a glimpse of the wrong face on the streets and she would be overcome with a panic attack, with the sight of glassy eyes and blue faces.

That was when Hawkmoth’s attacks picked up in intensity. When people began to die during Akuma attacks more frequently. When Marinette stopped sleeping in quite so much.

Her obsession over her father was a mere footnote by then, something she would idly look into on her ever increasingly rare free time with no success.

When Marinette was fifteen years, six months, two weeks, and two days old, Master Fu died. Marinette assumed the alias of Lady Strange, alongside her identity of Ladybug, so that the Miraculous wielders could contact her and know she was the new Guardian without knowing that she was also their leader in the field.

On the one year anniversary of Lady Strange being the Grand Guardian of the Miraculous, there was a worldwide magical disturbance.

Unlike Fu, Marinette did not limit herself to reacting to Miraculous problems.

—*—*—*—*—*

When Stephen glided back down from the equivalent of thousands of years bargaining and dying with Dormammu, he expected Hong Kong to be in a mess. It had been, from what he remembered of the scene before he created the time loop.

But it wasn’t. Instead, the streets looked as if no damage at all had been created. Kaecilius and his remaining zealots were tied up, quite literally, in what looked like string and hung upside down from a lamp post. Sitting down on the curb of the sidewalk and giving him a dangerously sharp glare was a young woman in a spotted costume, a mask over her face. When Strange realized he could not get any of her features to stick in his memory, he realized what she was.

Another magic user, but different from a Sorcerer. Her Neptune blue eyes bore into him with an intensity he was wholly unprepared for, but had no problem baring. After dying almost a million times, a guy tends to grow a backbone of vibranium.

Wong and Mordo stood on either side of the girl, both at a respectful distance. Wong had this wide-eyed look on his face, so much more expressive than usual that it caught the new Sorcerer Supreme off guard. Wong looked… awed?

Mordo, on the other hand, was regarding the girl with a look of barely disguised disdain and distrust. That was in character though, so Stephen didn’t pay it much mind. Instead, he walked over even as his bargain with Dormammu kicked in and Kaecilius’s cult was banished to the Dark Dimension.

“You reversed the damage, then?” He asked without beating around the bush, glancing down briefly to assure that the Eye was, indeed, still on him. It was. The girl stood up, her eyes continuing to blaze with an unknown soup of emotion.

“I did,” she confirmed easily. It wasn’t until he stopped only a few feet away from her that the sorcerer noticed how small she was. The only detail his mind allowed to stick with him besides that fact was that she also looked young. Too young to have to deal with a mess like this. “You might not know of me. The Temple Of Guardians made a deal centuries ago that all records of their existence and our own magic be removed from any Sorcerer sanctums.”

“The temple that appeared in Tibet out of nowhere more than a year ago?” Strange asked, eyebrow raised. “I remember the Ancient One briefly mentioning how much of a hassle it was to hide their reappearance and teleport the temple’s location somewhere new. I was under the impression that all the members of that temple have been in a pocket dimension separate from this reality for almost two hundred years.”

“They have,” the girl confirmed with a nod. “But before that, one of the Guardians escaped that fate. He became the Grand Guardian, and was my teacher until he passed last year. He named me the new Grand Guardian to take his place,” she turned, looking at something that Stephen couldn’t see. “I have illusions keeping us from being seen by the crowd, but it would be better if we took this inside the sanctum,” she said, nodding her head to the Hong Kong Sanctum’s door behind them. Strange simply nodded, more than willing to distract himself from his immeasurably long torture by indulging his curiosity. If this girl showed up and went out of her way to repair the damage the sorcerers and Kaecilius caused, then he wanted to know why.

“Wait,” Mordo barked, walking up to have a heated discussion with Strange that ended in the former storming off. Stephen knew he should be concerned about his former friend’s desertion, but he couldn’t muster up the energy for it yet. Focusing on the mysterious girl in a ladybug suit was an easier topic for his exhausted mind to latch onto.

When they got inside, the Sorcerer Supreme saw that she had even reversed the damage in the building. He saw a few scattered disciples rubbing their heads and looking around in confusion from their spots crouched on the floor. Stephen was almost certain he had seen those same people as corpses before.

The ladybug-spotted girl had scarcely removed her gaze from him for even a second, and easily picked up on the older man’s train of thought.

“My powers reversed all the damage I could handle, including physical wounds and death,” she told him. Strange blinked.

“That explains why I thought you all looked odd. Your clothes are spotless and you don’t look like you’ve fought at all,” he directed that comment to Wong, who merely nodded. “But that doesn’t explain how you can do such a thing. I’ve been intensely studying magic and magic theory for the past almost three and a half years, and I haven’t come across any healing spell that can be this effective without the subject of the healing themselves helping to work the power through their body. I know you are not a sorcerer like we are, but what exactly is your magic? Who are the Guardians? And who exactly are you?”

The girl pursed her lips, waiting until the two older men led her to the still-wrecked tea room. Her power hadn’t been able to reach that far when she had to focus on reviving so many people without the regular Cure. That only worked on victims of Miraculous magic, what she used on the Hong Kong streets and the Sorcerers was a more advanced usage of Tikki’s powers that she learned from both Fu and her periodic visits to the Tibet temple.

“The Guardians are a group of monks dedicated to the protection and distribution of Miraculous, which is essentially magic jewelry. I would normally go on to say how this might sound unbelievable, but you have a very similar pendant around your neck right now,” she pointed out once they all sat and Wong conjured some tea for them all. Stephen tensed at her mention of the Eye of Agamotto, his eyes narrowing. Did she..?

“I know what is inside the Eye,” she confirmed his silent thought, her voice soft but firm. “And I don’t care about it in the slightest. It is probably a good reference point for my explanation though. At the birth of the universe—“

“The Stones came into existence, each one representing and controlling a core aspect of reality,” Strange interrupted impatiently. “I am the Sorcerer Supreme, girl, I already know that.”

The young female rolled her eyes, huffing. “If you listened patiently, you would know that the story you were told is only partially true,” she snapped back with false patience. “The Stones were not the only things of great power to be created during the birth of the universe. Kwami, the first living beings to be born, were also created. They are each living representations of abstract concepts, some of which overlap with the powers of the Stones. The first to be born is the Kwami of Creation. She is essentially the goddess of creation itself, the living embodiment of that very term in every way. She is the source of my abilities, she lends me her power as I am her chosen Wielder. It is that same power of creation that allowed me to essentially counteract the destruction that was caused today, by having a condensed form of her power combat the direct source of the destruction and nullify it. The second Kwami to come into existence is her counterpart and the only one equal to her in power, the Kwami of destruction. There are a lot more, including the Kwami of illusion that used her power to keep us from being seen outside. And the Kwami Of time, which allowed me to experience the time loop you created,” the girl’s eyes sharpened again, boring into his own. “I left it after the equivalent of a few weeks, when I realized I couldn’t join you and do anything to help. The Kwami Of Time is about two-thirds as powerful as the Stone by itself, and there are more than double the amount of Kwamis as there are Infinity Stones,” she took a deep breath. “My job as Grand Guardian is protecting all of them, and distributing the jewelry they are bound to as necessary to combat world or reality threatening events.”

Strange remained quiet after that, drinking in the information and doing his best to wrap his head around it. Perhaps this young woman wouldn’t mind telling him more at a later date, especially seeing as they held equivalent ranking in two separate secret magical organizations. His eyes trailed down to a necklace she was wearing.

“How many of these pieces of jewelry—“

“Miraculous,” She corrected. “That is what they are called.”

“... Miraculous, then. How many are you capable of wielding at once, if they are so similar in strength to a Stone?” Wond asked, crossing his arms. The pigtailed girl leaned back from her spot sitting on the ground with them, humming in thought for a second as she decided what to tell them. A glance at Stephen seemed to make up her mind.

“Creation and Destruction hold equal power to a Stone. The Miraculous one stage lower than that hold four-fifths the power of a Stone. The last tier, where the Time Miraculous sits, is two-thirds,” she told them from memory. “I can wield Illusion, which is on the second tier, along with two third-their, and both Creation and Destruction at the same time,” she admitted. “But it saps a lot of my energy and I rather not ever do that again, if you don’t mind. I can wield all of the Miraculous though, since all of the Kwamis like me and are loyal. I can wear any three at a time, and I can switch between them as quickly as I need to.”

Strange really needed some sleep. Five thousand year’s worth of sleep would be nice. He ran a hand over his forehead, wondering who in the world gave this much responsibility and power to a child.

“One last question, and then you can spend the night if you wish, we’ll begin reconstruction of all the Sanctums in the morning,” Stephen spoke, forcing his back to straighten and his eyes to meet the girl’s. “You never answered it, actually. Who are you?”

The girl's mouth twitched in the first semblance of a smile he had seen on her yet.

“When I am in this transformation, I am Ladybug the hero of Paris,” she said with a grin. “Spots off.”

A soft pink glow ran down her body, very similar to the ring of power that sling rings produced to make portals. It left behind an adorable teenage girl with blue-black hair pulled back into pigtails, and striking blue eyes. She was clearly of Asian descent, but there was something else very familiar about the sharpness of her jaw or the stubbornness in her lip.

“My real name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. However, I go by an alias whenever I act as Grand Guardian, so that there is an extra layer of secrecy to protect me and my loved ones. I created that alias based on my biological father, who was never told that I was even conceived,” she said meaningfully, never losing eye contact with Stephen. His eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s pitiful, but what does—“

“My alias is Lady Strange.”

Wong barked out a short laugh before he forcibly covered his mouth, his eyes filled with sadistic amusement as he watched Strange’s reaction. The elder Strange, that is.

The new leader of the Sorcerers opened and closed his mouth like a fish, completely caught off guard. He looked over to Wong.

“Is there a spell to test paternity?” He asked warily. Marinette’s smile fell a bit, but Wong nodded.

A few flashes of orange light and two green ‘99% Match’ results later, Strange let his head fall into his hands.

“Alright, Marinette,” he finally managed to mumble through the slightly trembling appendages still covering his face. “I just spent thousands of years in a time loop with the Lord of Chaos, my back aches, my head aches, I will deal with this in the morning. Or whenever I wake up. Figures my own blood relation would end up in a position of extreme magical power, must be genetic. I still have questions, but sleep comes first. Don’t expect me to be a good parent. I really need sleep.”

Marinette just giggled, standing up and helping her father to his feet with surprising ease. “Just tell me where to go and I can drop you off in your room. No more magic for the rest of the day, you’re clearly spent. And as long as you make an effort, I’ll be fine. But don’t expect to ignore me and I’ll just go away, I have ways to track you to the ends of the universe and across the multiverse and time itself, and I will not hesitate.”

“Yep, she’s your daughter alright.”

“Sleep, Wong. It’s good for the brain.”

[alolowrites]

Sneezing Through Time

Summary: When you’re sick, you end up sneezing to random points in time.

Author’s Note: This story was written for the @bnhabookclub​‘s weekly prompt posted on their Discord server. The prompt was “I’m fine” and the AU/Scenario was Time Travel. Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this piece; it got my juices flowing. I might participate in more weekly prompt events in the future 😊. 

BTW: if something isn’t historically accurate, I’m sorry 😭😭😭. I was going for humor lmao. Guess that B.A. degree in History I received was for nothing. 

If you’re a writer (or aspiring writer) and a BNHA fan, please consider applying to join this amazing community. Everyone is so kind and welcoming! You will not regret it.

Also, this is not the sequel to The Point of No Return. That story will hopefully be ready next month so stay tune! 

Enjoy!  

Toshinori sips on his freshly brewed coffee.

Harvested from the beautiful lands of Chiapas, Mexico, he relishes the thick, rich, smooth taste of dark chocolate. A faint pinch of chili spice follows afterward and gives him the sort kick he needs to start the day. The morning newspaper rustles in his grasp as he reads about the latest world events. Everything is going as it should except…

You’re not at the table yet.

Toshinori glimpses at his watch and frowns. Something isn’t right; he knows you usually take twenty minutes to get ready before rushing to inhale your coffee. Sadly that cup is getting colder by the second while the empty seat sitting across the table mocks him. He raises the newspaper higher to block out the chair only to peek over it when he loses his concentration.  

The chair screeches on the hardwood floor. Toshinori folds the paper under his arm and goes to your bedroom to investigate. There’s a trail of white, crumpled tissues coming out from the bathroom. Following the knockoff yellow-brick road, he stops at the doorway and hears a loud blow horn by the window.

“Honey?” Toshinori tiptoes over the random piles of Kleenex as if they are grenades. Sunken eyes deeper than the Pacific Ocean catch his gaze. He feels your forehead with a frown. “You look sickly pale.”

You dismiss his concerns. “I’m fine.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it.”

“Toshi, I’m fine!” A slight cough betrays you despite trying to mask it in your fist. Toshinori’s stern face makes you cringe like a small child who got caught stealing candy from the jar. “That cough means nothing.”

“I’m calling you out of work today.” Like a firm parent, he doesn’t give you a chance to disagree. “And I’m staying home to take care of you.”

Before you could argue, a loud sneeze bursts out, and you disappear. Toshinori rubs his eyes as he taps his foot and counts the seconds in his head. You bounce on the bed wearing a loose peplos that flows down to your feet. A wreath of laurel leaves perfectly sits on your head like a tiara. You toss Toshinori a crown of wild olives.

“Brought you a little souvenir from the Olympic Games.”

He catches it with ease, but is too slow to reach you. An explosive sneeze blows into your used tissue, and you pop like a bubble that was pricked by a sharp needle. Toshinori sighs again. He wastes no time making a quick call to your boss who becomes excited to hear All Might’s voice. Unfortunately, Toshinori’s ear gets attacked by the man’s unintelligible banshee screams.

Pushing through the pain, he manages to snag a sick day for you. Toshinori is not one to abuse his hero privileges, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Hanging up the phone, a sharp swoosh of air blows behind him. He turns around to see you swaying like an intoxicated person who had a few too many drinks at the bar. Perhaps the high-end court party was too generous with their delicious wine.

Still, you feel woozy even if you didn’t drink anything. Any other day you would have appreciated how the gorgeous dark blue Victorian Rococo dress flatters your figure. The fine, golden embroidered floral pattern running along the fabric leaves Toshinori in awe. Who needs to visit the Met when you’re a walking Baroque painting?

However, you feel like absolute roadkill. The enormous hair wig weighs you down like a heavy anchor and disturbs your center of gravity. One small misstep and you’ll fall face-first on the floor. You annoyingly puff at the large, blue feather blocking your eyes.

“We are not doing any ballroom dancing dates for a long time.”

“Sure, honey.” Toshinori holds in his laughter. “Your boss gave you the day off. So why don’t I help you get—“ Another sneeze rudely cuts him off. A tiny feather gently falls to the ground as Toshinori’s head hangs low. Finishing his sentence, he mutters “—back to bed.”

Grabbing the dustpan, he cleans up the scattered tissues and waits for your return. It’s the only thing he could do when you’re sick and sneeze to other periods. The closet doors rattle and you stumble out with a painful groan, looking greener than Midoriya’s hair. Luckily the vomit subsides after doing some breathing exercises.

Toshinori comes to your rescue like the true hero he is. Your head bangs against his chest once the room starts spinning. You muffle, “Leonardo Da Vinci says hi.”

An arm cradles you closer into his warm embrace. He admires the cherry red Italian renaissance dress you’re wearing; it fits you like a glove. Your nose scrunches and you go still. A sneeze dangerously grows inside, tickling for an escape. Before you could unleash the chaos, two fingers pinch your nose close. A staggered breath slips through your gaped mouth.

“Blow,” Toshinori orders when a tissue settles on your nose. Gooey snot destroys the pristine Kleenex and joins the massive snow pile overflowing from the trash bin. He guides you to the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll make you a nice cup of green tea.”

“Thank you, Toshi.”

“Don’t you want to change out of your dress first?”

“No, it’s okay,” you mumble under the covers. The pillows feel nice and soft, like a fluffy cloud or a sheep’s wool. In between yawns, you say, “There’s no…corset under…dress.”

Sleep takes over the moment both eyes close. Toshinori stays behind and sends a quick text message to Principal Nezu about not coming into work today. He brushes the little hair strands sitting along your forehead with a faint smile. You look so peaceful, like a beautiful renaissance angel blessing his soul.

A loud snore disrupts the graceful illusion.

“At least you’re not sneezing,” Toshinori chuckles, fixing the pillows so you’re more comfortable. He shuts the blinds and gently closes the door on his way out. The hot tea, along with a nice, hearty bowl of soup for lunch, will help fight the cold.

Besides, he’s been itching to use the old teacup you “accidentally” brought back from your trip to the Ming-dynasty era.

Thank you for reading!

[josh-cole]

Early August 2017. Bayview, SF.

The thing about time is that it’s all relative. The future is an illusion to make people feel in control of the way their life is taking them. The past is just a thing to make everything feel like it has a meaning. At least, that’s what the man said on the flight from Texas to California a couple of weeks back after his fourth vodka tonic. He’d ordered one for me too because I looked like I needed a pick-me-up. By the time we landed, the cup was still full and the straw wasn’t even usable anymore, all chewed up.

“I’m just going where life takes me at this point," I’d muttered when the man asked why I was headed to California. I instantly regretted humouring him because that’s when his spiel about time and relativity began, but it was far too late to take it back.

That’s the thing about time. It’s set.

That’s why there’s a house somewhere in Nevada that I don’t feel guilty about, on a street full of two-storeys that all look the same (save from a blue fence here, a brown fence there) that has an overgrown lawn with an unhinged gate engulfed somewhere in it, left to rot in the grass by a man similar to the one I was sat beside on that plane, a couple of drinks in (probably even more) and with nowhere to release his energy. A pre-determined future is why it’s needless to feel guilty about that miserable old man still living there, alone since his son left nearly a decade ago and his wife not so long after.

… And it’s why I am here now, at only half-past eight in the morning reading last week's newspaper over a dark wood table, a coffee cooling beside me as I flip through the pages. I suppose reading old news is a little redundant now, but did I mention that time is an illusion? So I’m told by Cliff the Texan who was travelling to California to meet a cousin he’s not seen in years.

“What’s so funny?” A voice pulls me out of my trance. I hadn’t even realised I stopped reading, distracted by the thought until I look up to meet the gaze of a young man. Tanned and towering with light brown hair and a wide smile on his face. He’s got a black polo shirt on that reads ‘The Harrison Hotel’ on one side of his chest and an apron around his waist. I must look confused, because he adds, “You’re smirking. What is it? A headline?”

My eyes trail over the paper just as his do, drowsy but with no hope for sleep and no idea what page I’ve even landed on. ‘Minister Modi Is Visiting Silicon Valley.’ Well, that’s not very funny, is it? Or— maybe it is, I wouldn’t know. Have no clue who Minister Modi is. He could be a real hoot. ‘The highlight of his trip will undoubtedly be a high-profile weekend tour of Silicon Valley, which kicks off tomorrow.’ He’ll have been and gone by now then. That drunk man on the plane would probably try to call this time travel.

“You a politician?” I’m snapped from my daze again as the man slides into the booth opposite. It’s already dark in this corner of the bar, but with the light behind him and only a dim sconce on the wall beside us, half his face is cast into shadow as the other is illuminated in orange.

I don’t mean to be rude by staring, just a little taken off-guard, is all. I’ve seen him around most days, manning the bar and running in and out of the kitchen. Two nights ago I’d been sat at this very same table, no later than 10pm, whilst he drank at the bar and eventually stumbled off— into town I’d guess. The owner’s son, if I recall from my arrival: “My son, Kevin, will be running breakfast in the morning. He can call your room before the kitchen closes if you like,” the woman had offered and I must have looked both exhausted and clueless for her to not only assume I’d need a lie-in but to also give me an over-explained run-down of the place. It felt a bit like I’d ran away. Just some clueless kid who this woman was trying to humour whilst she looked at me with concern and explained how to call room service and which time of day I’ll most benefit from using the ‘do not disturb' sign.

I’d never been in a hotel before— well, not including the one in Texas, but my hand was held through that, and this time I am all alone.

“Sorry, what?” I now ask. I’ve been up long before breakfast every day since that first morning. It does me no good, always tired and in a daze, sleeping in the day instead. I’m not meaning to be rude, I’m just... “I—”

“The boys have got bets on,” the man now tells me, looking a little shy suddenly like he’s been caught out. Oh god, do I want to know? “Trev says you’re a salesman,” he tells me, although I don’t know who Trev is. He points over his shoulder with his thumb though, so I guess he’s another member of staff. “I’ve never even seen you leave the hotel, though. Don’t get many sales like that, do you?” Something in his eyes tells me that he already knows that’s a bad bet, probably because my mouth this opening and closing like a fish every time it’s my turn to speak, not exactly demonstrating the charisma of a salesman. “Dyl reckons you’re an inspector, but you’ve been here for a couple weeks now so that doesn’t make sense, either.”

“I—”

“Wait, wait,” the guy cuts me off. I wonder if he’d have sat down and said all of this sooner if not for the fact that this morning is the quietest it’s been here since I arrived. “Let me have the satisfaction of guessing right, okay?” He’s grinning like he’s so… At ease. Like I’m not a total stranger. He’s made it pretty clear that I’m a mystery to them. I could be a real creep. “A divorce, right?” He’s beaming a little too bright considering the assumption he’s making and he must realise when I do because suddenly the smile is dropping and he looks at me pitifully then, a little too exaggerated to be completely genuine. I wonder how much he bet on my divorce to have such a hard time looking sorry about it. “I figured it out since you don’t seem to have anywhere you need to be, and you just extended your stay, right? From three weeks to six, so. Yeah… I mean— We get ‘em sometimes, man,” he reassures me. “You’ll be alright though, just—”

“What?” I repeat dumbly. “No, I… I’m not married.”

“Not anymore, but—”

“Ever.”

He genuinely looks flummoxed. What signs have I been giving to make this guy so sure I’m a divorcee, lodging in a hotel whilst I try to figure out what to do with myself? But then I suppose it’s kind of obvious. I have been sulking, I suppose, coming down on-the-dot for mealtimes, eating alone and in silence, then heading back to my room where I flick through the handful of channels they have here or make up for the sleep I lose during the night. I’ve been meaning to buy a book but I keep forgetting to leave. I’ve been meaning to buy a cellphone too, but the one in my room will do for now. I made sure that, when I got here, everybody that needed me knew how to reach me. I’ve not had any calls.

I’m not sure what I’m meant to be doing. Can’t go back to Vegas because there’s nothing for me there and, if I dare to visit, I might just never escape. Trapped in a different room to this one for eternity. Can’t go back to Texas because there’s certainly nothing for me there either. It occurs to me then that I’ve been keeping myself awfully busy being trapped in different places over the years.

So maybe a divorcee wouldn’t be so bad. I suppose I’m freed now in a similar way. So what now? What am I doing here?

“I just got bored.” I know just as I say it that it’s the kind of explanation that tempts a million questions. “I’m not… I mean, I’m not anything. I’m just… I-I’m figuring stuff out.”

He looks incredibly disappointed to hear that I’m not going through a separation. His friends are probably waiting back in the kitchen to find out who won the money. “Huh.” He nods then, glancing at the paper like he’s just remembered it’s there before his eyes return to me. And… It’s a weird situation, and maybe a little insensitive of him, had he been right, and even just plain nosey because I sure as hell don’t want to start sharing my life story with strangers. But, still, I feel the needs to lighten the mood, having sat here dumbfounded for so long, my eyes still wide with confusion. I ask, “so do I win the bet, then?”

The man’s smile returns, big and mischievous as he leans back in his seat to chuckle. Extending a hand over the table, he says, “I’m Kevin.”

“Josh,” I say in return as we shake.

“We need to make up an exciting story for you, Josh, or the boys’ll be disappointed,” Kevin says as he lowers his hand and folds his arms on the table. “You’re a real mystery back there, you know. My first guess was that you were one of the men in black.”

I return his laugh now, folding my old paper shut. He has my attention. “What’s that? Like time travel? Aliens?”

“Both, man.” Another nod. “Both. You don’t know the classic conspiracies?”

“I—”

“No, no, we can’t have that, amigo. You free tonight? I’ll tell you all about it over a drink or two. You look like you need one.”

[giggle-me-this]

|| no exit || nate + xi + lox

Nate woke up to the most excruciating headache of his entire life. Well—he supposed it wasn’t technically called “waking up,” considering how drunk he’d been last night—it was more like just being unconscious and then, abruptly, painfully conscious. 

But Nate didn’t have time to dwell on semantics—not when it felt like a herd of Erumpent had stampeded on his head. He groaned, and shifted his arm out from underneath Xi, who was still asleep in bed. Her face crinkled with a frown at being subconsciously disturbed, and Nate pulled the duvet up over her shoulders when she rolled over, as he got out of bed and stumbled toward the bedroom door. Fuck, he needed a pot of coffee as strong as rocket fuel and a hangover potion, in that order, immediately.

But when he turned the doorknob and pulled, the door wouldn’t budge. “What the…” Nate muttered under his breath, jiggling the door on the frame unsuccessfully. The thing was, their door didn’t lock. None of the doors in the house locked, besides the front and back doors; it was a constant point of frustration for Xi when there were hedges in the house, and one Nate heard about often. Hastily, Nate backtracked, rubbing at his eyes (which did little to alleviate the pressure that throbbed just behind them) before grabbing glasses and his phone from the nightstand. There was an unread text, from Seth:

{FROM: SETH} heads up: some cooperative magic backfired. attempted camouflaging spells on the safehouse for protection as discussed and someone miscalculated the illusions bit. all doors are unfunctional until further notice. working to fix asap.

Immediately, Nate’s claustrophobic panic instincts kicked in at the thought of being trapped in a room until further notice, and he thought he might be sick. The door to the bathroom had mercifully been left cracked, and Nate barreled in there and retrieved an anti-nausea potion from beneath the sink, and tossed back the whole thing. He splashed some water on his face, willing himself to stop shaking. He was just a bit hungover. The hedges would get them out soon. Nate could handle this.

It was then he noticed that the other door in the bathroom, which connected Harriet’s room to this one, was also slightly ajar. That seemed like a bit of luck—if Harriet was up here, surely she could figure out how to break them out faster without blowing the doors off their hinges, right? Without any hesitation whatsoever, Nate pushed open the door and walked into Harriet’s room. “Thank fucking god, Harriet—the hedges fucked up the cloaking spells and now the doors are all fucked up…do you think you can circumvent whatever they did and get us out of—?”

It was then that Nate noticed that Harriet was not in her room. Loxley Blair and his sleeping dog, however, were. 

“Loxley?” Nate said with alarm, even as the events of the previous night started crashing back through his mind. Loxley had come into the bar, and stayed well after the official “closing time,” drinking shots and watching everyone play Push. Him and his roommates had shown up at the flat several weeks ago, having found out about the FTB hedges without knowing about Nate or Xi’s involvement; Nate had been otherwise occupied at the time, but he’d heard plenty about it from Xiomara: how protocol had dictated she allow them entry, despite her clear disapproval. How they’d successfully performed the magic required to let them stay. How Piper Oliver had cornered Xi in the kitchen and explained their predicament. 

They’d all shown up a few times since then, and it had been awkward. Which Nate had expounded on at length last night, after he’d suffered a brutal Push defeat and subsequently gotten absolutely smashed. Harriet was out getting laid and Nate had insisted that Loxley come back to the flat for the night, and they could get very very high before passing out. And that’s about where Nate’s memories ceased. 

“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” he said, lowering his voice and glancing back through the bathroom in the direction of his bedroom, where Xi was (hopefully) still asleep. “Okay, I know this is inconvenient, but we’re kind of stuck in here while everyone else sorts out a spell mishap. Do you think you can just, like—chill in here, and be quiet, until we can—?”

And that’s when Xiomara came in. 

@loxley-blair-lockhart @xiomarawinters

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Always Led Back to You Chapter 4, a John Doe/Seraphina fanfiction from UnOrdinary.

Sooooooo guess who accidentally gave her boyfriend access to her AO3 account including all her smut fics? This girl. And by accidentally I mean I sent him this very fic I was proud of without realizing he now has all my AO3 fics at his disposal. 

RIP

Here’s chapter 4! Now we can get started!

Disclaimer: I don’t own UnOrdinary

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

Seraphina felt like her head was pounding. She groaned, attempting to sit up.

“Easy there, Seraphina. You collapsed.” A familiar voice spoke out.

“Leilah?” Seraphina voiced out, feeling dizzy, having trouble focusing. What did that drug do to her? Did Leilah know that the drug would do that?

Suddenly, Seraphina felt sick and before she could stop it, she vomited bile all over the blankets.

“Ugh…” Seraphina wiped her mouth, her vision slowly beginning to focus. “Leilah, where’s John?”

“John?” Leilah blinked. “Who’s John?”

“The boy who saved us! The one with the dark hair!” Seraphina was losing her patience with her sister. Leilah went quiet. “Leilah?”

“Seraphina… what do you mean someone saved us? You mean from Mother and Father?” Leilah spoke cautiously.

“Leilah! Enough games! I’m talking about Spectre! Your organization!” Seraphina snarled viciously, the pounding of her head increasing with the returning of her vision. Finally, she could focus…

She was in her room. Her room from home. She hasn’t been here since she left home to return to Wellston to be with John…

And Leilah was there. She was there, and much younger than when Seraphina recently saw her.

“Lei… Leilah?” Seraphina questioned, confused. Leilah looked as if she’s seen a ghost.

“Seraphina… it sounds like you’ve had a bad dream…” Leilah smiled uneasily, quickly reversing the vomit off of Seraphina’s blankets so they were as good as new. She felt her younger sister’s forehead, trying to locate a temperature. “You suddenly fainted, and Mother and Father cancelled all extracurricular activities for the afternoon so you could rest.”

Seraphina didn’t respond, registering what Leilah told her. She climbed out of bed, despite Leilah’s protests and went towards her full body mirror.

It was her. She was in her twelve-year-old body.

“Seraphina, I’m going to bring you more food, okay? Mother putting you on a hunger strike must’ve messed with your body.” Leilah placed her hands on Seraphina’s shoulders. Seraphina paid her no heed, touching the mirror, tracing her image.

‘I’m twelve years old again!’ Seraphina thought. She was numb, and Leilah took this chance to lead her sister back to bed.

“Stay in bed and rest. I’m going to get you some food, okay?” Leilah told her. Leilah departs from her bedside and walks towards the bedroom door. However, she paused, keeping her green eyes ahead. “Also… I think you should forget your dream. I’ve never heard of Spectre.” With that, she exited the room, leaving Seraphina alone.

‘What’s going on?’ Seraphina’s heart began pounding in panic. ‘I’m twelve years old again! Is this some kind of illusion? How can this be possible?’ Despite her head pounding, she rose from her bed again, journeying back to the mirror to make sure she wasn’t imagining it.

Sure enough, her twelve-year-old self was still there staring back at her.

“I remember being in Arlo’s barrier against Spectre. Then Leilah… The drug!” Seraphina quickly brought her hand to her neck where she remembered the syringe being stabbed into her. She tried to feel for some evidence of a prick but could find none. She then brought her hands in front of her face, examining them. “Leilah said the drug was a prototype. Could it have interfered with my ability in some way?”

She reached inside her for the familiar echo she once knew. Anything to know she did indeed have her ability again…

Nothing.

“No…” Seraphina’s hands began shaking. “I’m still am a cripple? Then what happened?!” She ran her hands through her long magenta hair, attempting to gain some kind of semblance of reality in this new world. “So instead of gaining my ability back in the present, it caused my ability to send me back in time and have it no more?! What kind of sick antidote is this?!”

Seraphina tried to keep her voice leveled, but her entire being wanted to scream. Not only was she somehow in the past, but now she didn’t have her ability. What would happen if her parents found out? Would she be trapped here forever, with no escape? Seraphina wasted no time in grabbing her calendar, trying to in vain to gain some sort of control in this situation.

“I just started my final year in elementary school…” Seraphina whispered. “If this is correct, that means that Leilah will be running away from home before the year ends to join Spectre. I’ll be left alone with Mother and Father…”

With no ability, she didn’t dare finish out loud.

“I remember everything going black… and then…. John!” Seraphina’s eyes widened. “I remember John. I kept hearing him call my name. I remember thinking about him before everything went black…” Seraphina began to pace shakily, her pounding headache not helping her revert to a calm state at all. “Did thinking about John somehow effect how far I was sent back? But why this year…”

Suddenly, she stopped pacing, realizing exactly when she was.

“John started middle school this year…” Seraphina whispered. “John meets Claire this year… and then—” she turns to look at the calendar again, studying it. “John…”

“John’s priority was and has always been you”

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

“Seraphina! I’ve brought you your soup!” Leilah cheerfully announces as she entered Seraphina’s room with a tray. “Seraphina?” Leilah called, finding her sister nowhere to be seen in her room. She walked farther into the room, placing the tray on Seraphina’s desk.

The room was tidy and perfect as usual. There was no sign of disturbance. However, something caught Leilah’s eye and she walked closer to Seraphina’s desk, finding her secret drawer has been opened.

“Her secret money stash…” Leilah whispered. Realization hit her then and she ran towards Seraphina’s closet, past all the clutter towards where Seraphina was hiding her backpack. “Her travel pack is gone...”

A breeze then caught Leilah’s hair, and she journeyed towards the window that was ajar, blowing the curtains gently in the room. It was dark outside, and nothing could be seen for miles.

‘Seraphina!’ Leilah screamed in her mind, heart stopping.

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

‘I’m insane! I’m most definitely insane!’ Seraphina thought, head still pounding and body shaking, but she kept running at break neck speed. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this!’

If she hurried, she could catch a train ride set for New Bostin. She knew she had enough saved up from her stash to afford a ticket. She was leaving everything she knew, but Seraphina couldn’t find herself to regret her decision.

‘I can save him! There’s still a chance! This time John—you won’t be alone!’

She managed to make it away from her family’s estate into the city, traveling under darkness. Her clothes were covered in dirt from tripping so many times in the dark in her haste, but Seraphina couldn’t bring herself to care about her multiple cuts and scrapes nor the state of her clothes. Passersby ignored her, only crinkling their nose at her state of mess, before assuming she was a low-tier who was beat up and going back to their business.

Arriving at the station, Seraphina was elated to find it was still open, even at this late hour. She didn’t bother taking a break, despite her body’s protests, and made her way to the ticket counter. The attendant raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’d like a ticket to New Bostin.” Seraphina spoke.

“This ain’t no joy ride, kid. No money, no ride.” The attendant prepared to brush her off, knowing a ticket to New Bostin was out of her price range. However, the attendant was shocked when she slammed down enough money on the counter.

“Is this enough?” Seraphina asked. The attendant blinked, counting the bills, before nodding, dazed. Once she received her ticket, Seraphina wasted no time going towards her designated platform. She felt like she was on never ending adrenaline.

‘If I can somehow prevent John meeting Claire, then perhaps that would fix everything! I can work on a healthier way for him to cope! I can be there for him or take him to Wellston and we could meet Rei—’ so many possibilities swarmed her mind, and Seraphina boarded the train, unable to sleep. All she could think about was helping John—saving him from himself before he endured so much hurt from Claire’s betrayal and horror from being forced to relive his memories from Keon.

‘I will do for him what he did for me, but this time, I won’t wear a mask. It will be me at his side.’ Seraphina vowed.

She didn’t sleep a wink, too haunted by memories of John.

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

John glared up at assailants. It was like this every day of his life and starting at New Bostin Middle School was no different it seemed.

What he wouldn’t give for an ability! He’d show these scumbags what it means to be afraid…

“What’s with the face, Cripple John?” his main assailant smirked maliciously.

“I think he’s bitter he’s a cripple.” Another bully voiced out. The three of them smirked mockingly at John, who stayed in his place against the wall, on the ground.

“Awww, is that it, Cripple John? You want an ability?” the leader cooed sickeningly sweet. His hand glowed, his grin manic. “I’ll show you a real ability.”

John readied himself, but the blow never came, for the next second, a magenta haired girl appeared out of nowhere and high kicked the leader straight in the head. He fell to the ground unconscious.

“What the hell—” his two lackeys shouted before the girl swiftly punched them both in the face, knocking them out cold.

John blinked.

‘What?’

He stared at the girl who had magenta hair in a high ponytail and bright cerulean eyes. She was breathing hard, appearing as if she was in pain.

They locked eyes. Cerulean met gold.

“Hi.” She said coolly. Then promptly passed out.

John stared.                                                          

“What… what just happened?”

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

Seraphina arrived in New Bostin by morning, and set her sights on New Bostin Middle School. Hopefully she wasn’t too late, and Claire and John didn’t meet already. Otherwise, it would make her job at a lot harder.

‘I’ll handle it if it comes to that. First, I have to find him.’ Seraphina concluded, entering New Bostin Middle School grounds. She made sure to remain hidden to prevent a high-tier getting the surprise on her. ‘This doesn’t look as big as Wellston—come on! He should be around here!’

Finally, the sound of cruel laughter and punching reached her ears. Dread welled up in her stomach, and she immediately followed the sound. Peeking through the bushes, her heart froze at the sight.

It was John. He was younger, but she knew it was him. She’d know that mop of dark hair anywhere.

‘John… it’s really him…’ Her heart jump started, beating a mile a minute. There was her best friend. He existed in this strange world with her.

However, Seraphina took in the scene before her, frowning, realizing John was being bullied.

‘He really did have to deal with his all his life. He couldn’t escape from it. It was either be spat on or being corrupted. John can’t win no matter what role he’s in…’ Seraphina mourned, clenching her fists as the main leader readied a blast towards John.

Something clicked inside her, and without realizing it, her eyes began to glow.

‘I won’t let you be alone anymore!’ she shouted in her mind.  

Suddenly, she was there in front of John’s assailants, and she let loose on John’s main attacker before focusing on the other bullies. Before she registered what happened it was all over, and now it was just her and John.

They locked eyes, and it took everything Seraphina had not to cry.

‘It’s really you.’

What does she do now? John was right in front of her! This would be their first meeting to him. She needed something to catch his attention!

“Hi.” She said nonchalantly before all her adrenaline disappeared and her pounding headache took over.

Seraphina didn’t know what happened next because she swiftly blacked out.

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

Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think if you can! Thank you to everyone who commented, liked, and favored this story!

[allyvampirelass29]

He Sees You When You’re Scheming

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

"You sure you're gonna be okay, here on the floor, after sleeping in that fancy bed all this time, Your Highness?" Vic smarted off, making Ally giggle as she unrolled her sleeping bag.

"To be honest, Vic, it's not the softness of the bed, I lament not having, but the warmth of the bedfellow......."

"Ughhhhh GROSS!!!" Vic scoffed, making a gagging noise as she hurled a pillow at Ally's curly head, causing her to squeal and duck, laughing. "No HORROR stories before bed, Jane, you know the rules!!!" Vic made another face, fending Ally off as she tried to pelt her with her own pillow. "I'll bet anything that bastard husband of yours snores!"

"No...... he doesn't," Ally said much softer, fighting her smile, but not hard enough. "He's so peaceful when he sleeps, like he hasn't got a care in the world, and there's something easeful about the way he breathes, and his brow....... It's pulled back, softened, like he's found happiness in a dream, and no one can take it away from him....."

"You made the right choice to leave him, Ally, you know that right?" Vic said quietly, watching the tears prick her big, sad, green eyes.

"I feel like....... I'm going to die, being away from him, like I don't know how to live if he's not there, laying next to me........" Ally whispered, her voice catching, blinking tears into her eyelashes, not able to look at Vic, knowing how bizarre it must sound to her.

"Yeah, that whole feeling like you're going to die thing's just normal with Charlie. He just has that effect on women, huh?" Vic smiled sadly, elbowing the pale girl, but Ally couldn't find her smile, cupping her hand to her mouth, the tears falling.

"I know it's wrong, I know..... what he's done, to you, to the children, to Jolene, but I-I still want him, Vic. I know you resent me for it, and when the time comes...... I'll help you do what you must, but GOD I love that man......."

"Hey, come on, Jane, I don't freaking resent you, okay? Well, maybe I did, maybe I thought you were some kind of crazy, maybe I still kinda do, alright, but Ally, it ain't your fault. Manx has been working on wooing you since forever. He MADE you love him, Ally, he planned it, you couldn't have stopped yourself from fallin' even if you wanted. He knew all the right things to say, he got into your head, and then he went for the heart. He's had his eye on you your whole damn life." Vic snickered, amused with her next thought. "Look at us, I freaking hate him, you freaking love him, and yet neither of us can shake him."

"It's true," Ally said gently, feeling very small, her knees weak. As mad as it sounds, I don't want to ever shake him....... I want him........ to haunt me."

Vic felt the corner of her lip curl, a little disturbed. You damn crazy chick....... But as she looked at the pain and the want in Jane Austen's eyes, she knew it was true, and it gave her the shakes. "He messed you up so damn good...... Made you love the way he used you, got you addicted to his poison, jonesing for more, and this...... this is just the withdrawals, Ally. You may feel like you're dying, alright, but that ain't death...... that's detox."

Ally smiled sadly, her eyes brightening with a soft glow, and Vic bristled as she hugged her tight. "Thank you, Vic......... I may not be strong, or have it in me to rebel, but you do, and together, with your ferocity and my written fire, we can do this."

Vic awkwardly hugged her back, clapping her shoulder, and then when she wasn't looking, hit her with another pillow. "HELL yeah, we can, Harlequin! What are you talkin' about!? Look at you, you sure look like a rebel to me!!!! Nothing says you can't be girly and badass, Crazy Chick, remember that. Now, get some sleep, and no visions of sugar plums, got it?"

Ally whimpered, hugging her pillow tight. "I was his Sugar Plum...... That's what he called me......"

"No shit. I may have heard that perv say it once or twice. For what it's worth, Ally, he loves you, I can see it, I can freaking feel it, Manx fell for his own line, but remember....... He loved Jo too, and she's dead."

Ally felt the chills prickle unwanted across her skin, wriggling down into her sleeping bag, pulling the studded shoulder black denim jacket Vic gave her tight. An odd silence creeping between them. In a lot of ways, they both had been Jo. The before........ and the after.

"She was lucky to have you as her friend, Victoria. And, so am I......." Ally encouraged sweetly, her voice warming the empty silence.

Vic cringed at her full name, and yet she didn't mind it quite so much when this Manx said it. Friends? Yeah, I guess we are...... How the hell did that happen? We're so damned different. Love and Hate, Sweet and Sour, Lace and Leathers, and yet we're both gonna do it...... Kick Charlie Manx's Christmas Lovin' ASS!!! We're the only chicks ever that have a real shot at killing Christmas. I couldn't save her from him, Ally, but I can save you. It's what Jo woulda wanted."

Ally nodded solemnly, the emotion flashing in Vic's dark eyes, and away again twice as fast. Damn it Jo, you should really be here........ you're missing all the fun. She wished that badass dame was standing with them right now, telling her story, rallying the troops...... If anybody could put Ally on a Manx Detox, it was Jo.

"You woulda liked her, Jane, she was kind of the perfect blend of both of us....... Loving that Son of a Bitch like you do, and hating him like me......."

"I feel her lingering shadow on us both......." Ally whispered, settling down into her pillow drowsily, pulling her sleeping bag up to her chin. "This is her fight, we're just the ones finishing it......."

"Hell yeah, Rebel. We got this....... See you in the morning."

Ally felt herself start to drift away, even before Victoria had left the room, dancing in and out of lost dreams, reality and conjured memory confused, melting together in her tired mind, as she felt Charlie against her body, and then he would fade, hear his even breathing, and then be met with lonely silence when she opened her eyes, half asleep, reaching for him. Then it felt like he was staying longer and longer, his absences dwindling between fever dreams, the scent of him, that black licorice, and smoked gingerbread, peppermint, and exhaust, fell over her, and she breathed it in, intoxicated, feeling the full weight of his beautiful body laying on top of hers, his breath on her lips, as their mouths almost touched.

"Don't scream."

Ally's eyelashes fluttered open in a daze, her parted lips frowning, looking up, as the fleeting flash of Charlie's dark features surfaced from the darkness. That's odd....... Wait, why would he say-? She felt the tremor in her heart, the frantic uptick, as she realized she wasn't dreaming, the lines of his body, the intensity of his black eyes, appearing in startling, sharp focus.

She went to cry out, warn Vic, and his warm, supple glove pressed hard against her open mouth.

"I said....... DON'T scream. What's the matter, Allyssa? I thought you wanted me to haunt you........" He whispered tauntingly, his smirk deadly, his eyes gleaming fierce in the dark.

Ally rushed to get up, when she felt his body press against hers, forcing her back down, grasping both of her hands, pressing their entwined fingers against her chest, to hold her down, and keep her still.

"NO!!!! No no no no, you can't be here, Charlie, no please," She pleaded, struggling against him.

"But you'll die without me......" He whispered spitefully, clenching her hands tighter, simpering over her, letting her overwhelm his senses, and then he paused with a frown, wrinkling his nose.

"What the HELL has she made you wear?" Ally shuddered as Charlie ripped open the sleeping bag, the zipper flying, looking down aghast at her new McQueen Makeover. "Dear God, she IS trying to kill me....... No wife of MINE is ever going to wear any such biker grunge, and- and- he growled, his nostrils flaring, clawing at her shorts, pulling a fiber free, studying it with a disdainful scowl. "Cut-offs."

"Something's wrong," Ally breathed, even as she looked up at Charles, feeling him, yes, but it was not fully realized, there was something airy about his body flush against hers. Something surreal at work.

"Why yes, I should say so, just look at what horror she's inflicted upon your curls!" Ally felt his fingers digging at her halfback ponytail, yanking her hair free of the black velvet scrunchie, pulling the intermittent braids loose in a disgruntled huff. She purposefully turned her pale cheek inward intending to scratch it on his nail, and they both froze, when she couldn't feel it.

"You're not really here......"

She thrust both hands up to cup his face, and then gasped, as she felt the faint sensation of his cleanshaven cheek, but watched as the air rippled around his handsome outline, distorting the illusion.

"Clever girl," Charlie whispered, impressed. "So thoughtful of you to sneak off with one of my handy little candy canes, so that we might commune in secret, my scheming minx.

"No! I didn't! I never took it, I don't know how you're doing this!" She insisted vehemently, and he smirked down at his rebellious bride, making her shiver as he ran his hands down her body, reaching behind her knee, untying one of her black lace stockings, before slipping a small peppermint candy cane from the back of it, and she gasped, horrified, shivering against him as he spoke.

"That IS where you kept it, isn't it......? After you stole it off me, your knife, like some common street wench, pickpocket......."

"Charlie...... Please, I-I had to, I'm sorry-"

"No more lies, no more deceit. No more waiting," He growled, angrily kissing her cheek, holding it in his projected claws. Tell me where you are, so I can come to you both, and we can finish this......."

"Never," She whispered under her breath, her chest rising with her resolve, expecting his violent rage, when instead it was his tenderness he employed, letting his lips drift against her delicate neck in feathery-light, almost there trails, making her murmur with elicited ecstasy.

"This is my inscape, My Dearest Love, you're in MY World, remember? I will FIND you before whatever frail plot can take wing against me........The only question is........ Will I grant you amnesty, My Sweet, or make you suffer alongside your new partner in crime."

She gasped as he grabbed the front of her black denim jacket, pulling her up against him. "You are NOT Vic McQueen, you're BETTER than her, you're Allyssa Jolene Manx, MY WIFE!!! You're nothing like that crass, classless strumpet, so don't you DARE dress like her!!!" He leaned down over her, his lip protruding in a snarl. "If I were there, really there....... I'd make you take it off....... every heinous last stitch." They both stared at each other, eyes locked, the silence intensifying, the heat rising between their bodies, sighing desirous, at the same time, and Ally got an awfully dangerous idea.

"You mean...... like this.....?" She whispered flirtatiously, and Charlie watched transfixed, his lip slightly trembling with his hunger for her, his anger, as she lifted herself up onto her elbows, and slowly inched the denim jacket off her bare shoulders, looking deep into his eyes, as she wriggled out of it.

"Go on......." Charlie rasped, in an aching demand, flinging the studded jacket away. "I don't think you've quite finished........"

She stared up into the depths of his soul, drowning in his obsidian fire, reaching to hold his floating cheek in her doting palm, and he relented to her touch, fending off his climbing desire for her lips. He watched her fingers fumble down the front of her shirt, finding the hem of her very Vic-like, tie-dyed black tank top, and he watched mesmerized, barely breathing, as she inched it nervously up her bare stomach, her hands shaking more and more the higher it climbed. His breath caught, and he rushed to stop her, gently pressing his hand over her trembling one, to still it.

"No........ No, no, My Virgin Queen, forgive me....... Not like this......" He cooed, and she blushed, feverish, as he inched down her body to kiss her exposed navel, making her toes tingle. Not until the other business is finished, not until I can touch you, really, truly touch you, will I behold, your beautiful nakedness, struck to my soul by that white hot lightning, of skin that's never been touched......."

She breathed deeply, her hand still shaking underneath his, and he kissed her stomach again, even more tenderly, making the wood floor beneath her feel like sand, sinking into it, his lips, even in their faint reach, so soft.

"Tell me where you are........" He coaxed, his breath tickling her bare stomach. "Do not torture me, not like this...... Ally, you've proved yourself my equal in Creative Talent, a worthy adversary, but we both know how this ends...... You won't take my children from me. You could never do that, not you my sweet, affectionate wife!!!"

"I wouldn't have to, Charles........." she whispered back, anguished, holding his beautiful raven head to her stomach, stroking his hair. "If you'd only just let them go, let them be as they once were. That's all we want, Baby........ Please." Ally felt the tears stream down her face, exhaling vanquished, feeling his fury in his hot breath, yanking free of her grasp.

"BE as they once were?" He rasped mockingly, snapping up his coifed head, his eyes smouldering. "Unloved, neglected, miserably LOST!? NO!!! They are MINE, they have been...... FOUND."

His growl was low, emanating from deep inside his chest, moving back up her body, knee against her bare thigh, pinning her arms above her head, and she didn't fight him. "They are mine. They are HAPPIER with me....... and deep down you know it. I am a good father, a loving husband, YOU were happy with me....... once. You crave me, even now, don't think I can't FEEL it. Don't you see? She's poisoned you, my apple white, hoping I'll bite. His voice ached, his touch tender, as he gently eased her tank top back down over her stomach, resting his hand there.

"Shall I do the same to you, My Wife? In this grand rescue scheme, where I die, and that wanton lush, Victoria saves you, is that what you want, to BE as you once were? The sad little doll broken by an unforgiving world, left to languish, unloved? Did I not take you, shattered, into my arms, and fix it? Love you, cherish you? I saved you, not HER. Can you help me...... Mister Manx?" He whispered cruelly, using her own words against her, his voice snide in its scathe, brushing his gloved finger across her trembling lip.

"You did....... You fixed a broken doll, repaired her cracked heart, Sweet Toymaker, and that was the best day of my life, save the brightest hour I married you, and became your wife. I am ever still euphoric in my happiness with you, Charles, but I had a choice....... These poor darlings, these precious, innocent souls did not....... when you turned them into the monsters they once feared."

Charlie scoffed, knitting his brow, confused, incredulous. "Whatever do you mean? Do not paint them as abominations, that's not you, that's HER talking. They're beautiful....... They look like their father, My Love. I made them strong, gave them some bite, in case anyone dared try hurt them again. They did have a choice....... they chose me. They chose not to follow their tragic childhoods into their fated ends, fall apart in their broken homes. They need me....... They cry out to me, all over the world, how can I stand idle, and not save them?

Charlie hung his shiny black head, squeezing his eyes shut to hide his raw emotion from her, his voice breaking on the words, and she reached for him, hands on his face, smoothing back an errant strand that had worked itself free of his handsome coif.

"I understand........ why you do it, Charles, but what began as so noble a pursuit, has taken on a dark purpose, a frightening turn. Think of all those parents missing their precious ones, their hearts breaking just to hear their children laugh again, all the presents they can't buy on Christmas. How can you part them, deny so priceless a gift?

Charles furled his lip, feeling the pain in his heart, the memory of his piercing agony when he thought Millie lost to him forever. Taken away from the father that loved her more than anything else in his damnable human life. "I never take a child from a happy home, Ally, I promise you....... I punish the bad parents who do not deserve their children, and by throwing in your lot with Vic, it is you who passes judgement on the Good Father, the only man that can give them everything. Tell me where you are........ and I promise, I'll finish her off quick.

"No," Ally breathed, and he took her chin roughly in his grasp, with a disdainful eyebrow raise. "Very well, then you will watch every night as I finish her slowly, draw out her screams until they become my new symphony. I'll even let you pen a verse or two......." He smirked, his lip curling in the corner, his eyes lethal. "Where are you, Ally? I TOLD you to FINISH it, and instead you stay away with her, in hiding, delaying, driving me mad with the waiting. Tell me, and I'll let you journey to the outside world. Deny your husband again, and those pretty chains I forged special for you, will be your new best friends."

"I'm sorry, Charles........" She whispered, brushing her lip against his, and he furrowed his brow. “I will come back to you, you have my word, but not until they are freed, she is safe, and Christmasland belongs again to the pure soul, I have saved from his own darkness........ Forgive me."

Ally thrust her thumb forward hard, and Charlie's face fell as he heard the snap of the candy cane, grasping for her, panicked.

"DAMN it, NO!!!! NO, Allyssa Jolene you don't know what you've just DONE!!!!!" He raged, seizing her wrist, and she gasped, as his dark visage flashed away in a burst of white static, the weight against her body, the clamp on her wrist withdrawn. She sank back onto the soft sleeping bag, breathing hard, exhausted, and the broken pieces of the candy cane fell from her hand, clattering onto the wood floor.

Vic appeared, wide-eyed, tapping on the door frame. "Hey uhh I heard a lot of noise from the front room, you okay, down here, Harlequin? You have a bad dream or somethin'?"

"The worst........" Ally answered in an escaped breath, her eyes still closed.

Come and find me, Charlie Manx..........