#lord i KNOW these were dramatic prompts but i had the idea of silly and i couldnt not do it kjsdhfajd

[mamawasatesttube]

31+94 for timkon 👀 ? or dealers choice

31. “You haven’t lost me.” 94. “I won’t lose you too.”

How did it come to this?

How did he not—Tim is supposed to be some kind of strategist! He prides himself on his ability to think on the fly, to adapt to any situation, to always come out on top. He strives to think things through, he pats himself on the back for being observant and analytical, he—

How did he not see this betrayal coming?

All around the room are empty chairs, chairs where his friends once sat, unwinding with him, ready to fight by his side, laughing. Now the only one here is Tim.

Tim isn't laughing.

Movement flickers in the doorway, and his head snaps up. But it's just Kon, and his shoulders relax slightly, though he doesn't move from the corner by the window. Not yet.

"Hey." Kon comes over to him instead. "Thought I'd find you in here. Still brooding?"

"I should've expected something like this." Tim folds his arms over his chest, trying not to focus on the bitter tang of defeat. He's going to be tasting it a lot more in the near future. "I can't believe I got fooled into complacency so... thoroughly."

"Still brooding," Kon confirms, more to himself than to Tim. He doesn't seem half as destroyed by this loss as Tim does, though, and a horrible thought strikes him.

He turns to face Kon, reaches for his hands, holds them tight. "What do I need to do to keep you on my side? I won't lose you, too. I won't let them take you."

"Rob." Kon squeezes his hands back with a soft huff of laughter. The sunlight streaming through the window makes him almost glow, a sharp contrast to the shadows surrounding Tim. "Relax, babe. You haven't lost me."

Relief cuts like a knife. Tim's shoulders slump, and he sighs, dropping his forehead to rest against Kon's collarbone. "So it's just you and me, against the world, huh?"

"Something like that," Kon starts to say, amusement clear in his voice—

"Conner! Did you find him?" Bart hollers from somewhere down the hall. "'Cuz I'm gonna eat your share of the donuts if you're not back in five! Four! Three—"

"I don't have a share of donuts!" Kon hollers back. "I didn't take the bribe, remember? I'm not gonna be in the weird Monopoly commune!"

"Boo!" Anita appears in the doorway, a half-eaten donut in her hand and a wicked grin on her face. Tim glowers, but she just points at him and laughs, salting the wound. "Down with the bourgeoisie! Can you believe Conner's a class traitor?! Just because he gets capitalist dick!"

"Listen," Kon says. "I'm loyal. A sugar baby can't just betray his daddy like that. Besides, it's not just capitalist dick! I get capitalist love."

This is, without exaggeration, the literal worst day of Tim's entire life.

He hides his face in Kon's shirt and groans. "I'm never agreeing to board games with any of you people again."

"Sure you won't," Anita teases. "Well, we'll be setting up in the den, so come on when you're done brooding!"

She saunters away as Tim groans again. A brush of TTK pats the top of his head sympathetically.

Man, his friends are the worst.

♥ angst/fluff prompts ♥

[madelynhimegami]

Satan Guide

(to the anon that requested Maguro, he's next)

Satan's full title is "The Dark Prince Satan." Some apparently aren't aware that he's called the Dark Prince in Japanese as well, so I'm mentioning it.

Likewise, as funny as the "devil from Bible" jokes are, it's just his name.

You know how some people will use the term "dracula" for vampires? It's the same idea here but for demon lords (shoutouts to Gadget).

As for Satan himself, at his core he is dramatic and full of himself. He's also prone to boredom.

He's far and away the most powerful character in the franchise, hands down.

The above two points are closely linked: When you're the most powerful being in existence, it's too easy to just do what you want without consequence.

Hence the other key point of Satan's character, that he is a massive doofus.

He does stupid things on purpose while limiting his power because it creates conflict he's not immediately set to win. This allows for both drama and uncertainty.

That isn't to say he's just playing the fool and is just distracting everyone else. He really is a dumbass, he just also has an off switch for the silliness when the situation calls for it.

Whether Satan's hamming it up, or resembling a wet sock, or gushing over "Carbunny," or does something patently stupid, or behaving childishly, or displaying a fragile ego… that's not a front. That's raw, unfiltered Satan.

Satan's not really evil. He doesn't look for more power, or seek to rule the world, and isn't really into corrpting mortals into doing his bidding, let alone killing them. Guy just happens to be the Prince of Darkness.

Before continuing down this line of thought, let's take a moment to address the elephant in the room that is his relationship with Arle (and by extension Rulue, Schezo, and Carbuncle).

By the time that Madou 2 happened, Satan had become quite lonely, leading to his setting up a find-a-spouse dungeon with himself at the bottom.

It didn't work, since the first qualified person to reach him beat him up ("I shouldn't've skipped breakfast") and took his rabbit with her.

Over the next several games, Satan got the message that Arle was just flat-out not interested in marrying him.

Which was fine. The shenanigans that happened among him, Arle, Rulue, and Schezo led to the four of them becoming friends (for a given definition of "friend," in a few cases), so he's not lonely anymore.

That said, he's still committed to the bit of pursuing Arle without so much as telling her it even is a bit at this point.

Either Satan is unconvinced that his friendship dynamic with her works without him being obnoxious, or he just doesn't want to rock the boat for whatever reason.

Once, his request to marry Arle was accompanied by a Yes/No prompt. Choosing yes has Satan self-sabotage by pleading "Say it again!" until "No" is selected.

Another time, Arle had some memory problems, and actually believed Satan when he claimed that they were engaged. Satan's immediate response was "Uh, Arle? Are you feeling okay?" He then proceeded to drop the bit until Arle got her memory back.

All the same, his affection for Arle is genuine-- though whether it's still romantic, I couldn't tell you.

As for Rulue, he almost certainly appreciates her as a friend, but would prefer her to back off. Not that he can say so, let alone explain why, without breaking kayfabe.

Schezo, Satan is aware, doesn't particularly like him, but does trust him very deep down. That won't stop him from insulting and/or challenging Satan when they cross paths. Satan just plays along because that's also fun for him.

Carbuncle is adorable and Satan delights in showering him in attention when he gets the chance. Carbuncle probably thinks he has the most cringe parent in all the worlds.

Despite his tendency for chaos, Satan is generally against letting things get so out of control that people start getting seriously hurt, let alone become life-threatening.

In addition, he has nothing but respect for the freedom of others, and so will never try to coerce them, abduct them, or otherwise attempt to control them.

Of course, his penchance for shenanigans means that many will assume his involvement in the chaos of the day. They don't trust him to not be involved.

Really, all bets are off until he's confirmed or denied his involvement.

But back to the point. Satan doesn't go out of his way to cause (direct) harm to people, and he respects the free will of others.

So while he could solve most conflicts he's around for, he typically won't do so proactively, just because it would mean committing life-changing (or ending) violence, as well as deprive others involved of making a choice.

When presenting solutions, his method seems to be to first suggest the absolute least desireable one (ie, killing Squares, putting Sig into eternal sleep). Which is actually a useful strategy in giving less extreme solutions a better sense of scale (or so I heard?)

All bets are off if he has any reason to believe Arle and/or especially Carbuncle are in serious trouble.

As previously stated, Satan typically keeps his vast power in check. Manifesting his true abilities causes strain to the surroundings. The general area may start exploding and/or the fabric of reality itself may start to deteriorate.

While Satan generally sports a masculine presentation, he doesn't have a whole lot of regard for gender. He has a bikini for his own personal use, and once expressed desire to be a distressed damsel/princess that gets saved by a hero (read: Arle). And then there's Satan Saturn.

He is over 100,000 years old, he probably existed before humans even had cultural perceptions of gender.

If forced to label him, I'd say Satan is genderfluid.

Speaking of his age, while Satan physically resembles a 20-something-year-old adult (by his choice, as he can shapeshift), he gives off elderly vibes that a lot of people pick up on easily. He is referred to as an "old man" or some variant with surprising frequency.

He does not like this. So naturally, Ecolo has taken to calling him "gramps" on purpose.

[infernalrevenge]

Okay, so this is a spur of the moment sort of idea, but is it possible to have a headcanon of the four lords with a s/o who has terrible memory loss. And I don't mean forgetful, think more along the lines of Fifty first dates, like she greets one of the lords and they get talking, lords end up coming back cuz they liked their positive attitude, but when they come to visit again, s/o greets them like they've never met. Does that make sense?

Yeah I think I get what you're saying, though I never really watched the full movie HAHAHA I've only seen half of it but I know how it goes down. Hopefully, whatever I've come up with satisfies your idea :P

To stay true to the idea, reader here has anterograde amnesia -- characterized by not being able to retain short-term memories. They're aware of their own condition.

----------

Alcina Dimitrescu

Understandably, she'd be confused, caught off guard that you didn't remember the time you spent with her.

Honestly she might be so confused that she'll forget to be offended -- not that it would have ever occurred to her that she was bad company in the first place. You were so pleasant to be with too, so... what went wrong?

When you explain it all to her, you might actually be surprised at how quickly she gets it. Definitely isn't the strangest thing she's ever heard of. She knows too what it's like to be around someone with terrible memory -- her patience with Moreau is astounding and one she doesn't extend to just anyone.

(But you aren't "just anyone" to her. You were a warm presence, a ray of sunshine in that time you spent together, however short. She wanted to get to know you better, and if that meant putting much more effort into maintaining that connection with you, then it's nothing she can't do.)

She'll creep her way into your mind (and heart) through song. She'll invite you to the castle and teach you serenades and classical pieces, you sing while she plays the piano. It doesn't matter to her if you sing off-key or add your own silly lyrics -- if she's being honest, sometimes she even prefers your versions.

Every now and then, you do forget the notes and the words, but Alcina doesn't have a problem with going over them again if you hear a "new tune" you found interesting. It's a good thing too that she loves music so much.

One day, she might even catch you humming them while you sit with her in a comfortable silence. You may not be sure exactly how you know the song, but you're glad you're able to make the Lady smile by doing so. Maybe you'll try to learn the words next time.

Donna Beneviento

...was she really so unpleasant that you already forgot about her and the day you spent together?

She'll be so embarrassed if you don't remember who she is, thinking that the other day was a mistake and that she was just imagining the connection you two had. Not to be dramatic but she'll definitely run away in tears.

The best way to remedy the situation is to go after her right away and try to explain the situation. She might not even believe you at first, her anxiety initially convincing her that you made all this up as a way of rejecting her, or that this was all a mean prank. But if you're patient enough, she might come to understand it.

In the process of becoming part of your life, she'll definitely make something that will eventually remind you of her, or someone like her. She just wants something that would stick with you, ideally something tangible.

One day she'd gift you with a doll in your likeness, complete with its own clothes and accessories. She might even include a very small doll in Angie's likeness to go with it, to serve as that reminder.

Once you do get close enough, she says that she would rather have you call her "Donna" than by her formal title. Though this frequently slips your mind, it's no trouble at all for her to remind you. Besides, it's quite cute to see you say her name like you're trying it out for the first time, even if it may have been the eleventh. She loves the way you say her name.

And when it finally sticks to you after enough repetition and you greet her like that without prompting? Her heart just flutters.

Salvatore Moreau

Moreau has always known that he has terrible memory, but after meeting you? He's starting to doubt exactly how bad he could really have it.

As a former doctor, he might recognize the diagnosis you give him after explaining it and he goes "Oh.... Oh!"

He'll be so relieved it's not because you wanted to let him down gently by feigning forgetting the memory of what was literally yesterday (but also he'd understand if you did, he almost threw up on you in excitement. Come to think of it, maybe it was best you didn't remember that part.)

Still, he'd be determined to spend a lot of time with you and become a part of your working memory somehow. Though he knows there's no cure for such an affliction, he'll want to make an effort to include some aspect of himself into your routine.

He'll write you little notes and letters, about how wonderful you are and how you make him feel whenever you two are together. He'll give you a journal so you can write about all the cool things you want to remember later on (and part of him hopes you write about him too.)

(And of course you write about him, who would ever want to forget about the sweet doctor fish man who just wants to be loved and a part of your world.)

One day, he catches a glimpse of one such diary entry -- and he only knew that because he saw the cute little doodle you made of him, along with a small heart next to it. He swears he never meant to pry, but he thinks about it for days and days. He's never been happier.

Karl Heisenberg

Oh he'll be mad at first, for sure. He's likely the type to express first and ask questions later when it comes to these matters, but the anger is more out of confusion than genuine offense.

If you try to explain it, he may just think you're lying at first. "If you wanted me to leave you alone, you could just say so," he'd say. But at the same time, there'd be such a sincerity in your voice that it would be hard for him to keep denying it. Fine... maybe you're not pulling his leg then.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't make trinkets in his spare time. He can be a big mean metal worker all he wants but I can also picture him having made a keychain or two in his life. Maybe even a necklace. They're not perfect or polished by any means, but he just likes making little things with scraps left over from bigger projects.

That said, he'll give you some without much of a second thought. He probably ask you first if you want to keep any the first time you stumble upon his messy workstation at the factory. They looked pretty neat, so you took some of them home.

You might find yourself fidgeting with the moving parts of it, trying to rack your head and remember exactly where you got them and how. Was it on a trip? Did you get these as souvenirs? Why did one of them look like an electric fan with legs?

Sometimes you'll show him all this stuff and talk about how cool they looked. Your favorite might be the one that looks like a hammer, but the fan with legs was a close second. You tell him to be careful of the sharper parts though (wouldn't want him to get tetanus.)

He may or may not get a little embarrassed as you gush about your "new" trinkets. You might offer to give some to him that he likes but he insists you keep them, especially since you like them so much.

[britishsass]

Ive been thinking abt the "characters from time lord au go to x time and y place" prompt for days bc ive been trying to think of like the most comedically un-romantic location you could possibly place bob and helmut into where they somehow still catch feelings but i have been absolutely stuck. so im just presenting the vague concept to you for consideration, if nothing comes to u either that's understandable have a nice day

Oh heck yes. Let me see here...

Gladiator arena was a first thought. Likely they try to make them fight each other but instead these two just start laughing for no reason

Honestly they have probably had to go through sewers to get places and still had situations like Bob carrying Helmut through the worst part

They've got a unique skill to find almost anything romantic if they're with each other. Usually this is normal. Sometimes it's the time that Helmut punched a Cyberman and Bob nearly kissed him on the spot.

Ford is dramatically third wheeling the whole time.

There could be a situation with them in a literal war and they'd still find something sweet about the other to notice. I swear they cannot focus on the plot in proximity of each other.

I think my favorite idea has to be them being locked up somewhere for stealing something which either a) Ford stole or b) they don't even know what it is, and they just end up talking to pass the time and mutually realize "Oh No. I like this guy"

(In that last idea it is possible that Ford is trying to return it or to get them out but I think he'd definitely only manage to help at the last moment, finally getting up next to them as they're about to be executed or something, to produce the thing that they were thought to have stolen.)

Bob definitely mostly romanticizes Helmut's optimism and cheery outlook, while Helmut romanticizes Bob's quietness and then his dry humor and kind of silly laugh and all that. They get to know each other more through some time of talking and whoops. "Illusion is broken, but I like the real you better"

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 12: Family

A big, blank spot on the wall of the Borel manor parlor wouldn’t normally bother her on another day, but Dia, still recovering from a near-fatal injury she sustained in the last treasure hunt she went on, suffered from intense boredom. Her day seemed wasted to her by sitting around, doing nothing. The books that surrounded her helped, as well as the free company linkshell, but her fellow adventurers were busy adventuring, and one could only bury herself in fiction for so long after spending years firmly planted in reality. Thus did the wall become painfully obvious.

To her, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say it seemed wildly out of place. Many works of art neighbored this new thorn in her side, yet there did that spot sit empty, lifeless, only showing the wallpaper. Why wasn’t there another work of art? Why couldn’t there have been one? Was he so busy that he forgot to hang something new there? Was she so busy that she never thought to ask?

No, that space simply wouldn’t do.

She cautiously stood up from the settee, taking great care not to reopen her abdominal wound, and found a different perspective. It helped little to ease the discomfort the blank wall was causing. There had to be something to place there. She would sneak off to the Jeweled Crozier and shop around herself if the act of even standing wasn’t so painful. Now that the quandary had revealed itself, she pondered what would hurt more to withstand.

“Oh, Mistress Sito, my lord will be rather upset that you’re not resting your wounds”, cautioned the steward, Angelbert, from the doorway to the parlor.

“The man fought off a terrorist cell hours after being stabbed; he can deal with me standing here staring at a wall”, she snarked. The steward frowned at the remark. “May I ask why you choose to stare at a wall, mistress?”

“Angelbert, do you know why there’s a blank spot here?” The old man stepped towards the spot she stood in, and examined the wall. “Running a house near singlehandedly has made it a bit hard to pay attention to wall decorations, I’m afraid, but I’m sure my lord has his reasons.”

She hummed in consideration. “Well, what might he think of filling it with something else, I wonder?”

“Such as?”

“Well, look at the rest of it- there’s art abound. Why not fill that spot with another work?”

Angelbert took a moment to think. “Well, the basement does hold several paintings that remain unhanged.” Dia brought her attention to the steward. “Really?”

“Plenty of them. That in mind, he has precious little time to spend thinking about house decorations.”

“Angelbert, I have nothing but time, at the moment. Why don’t we look through them and see what we can find, then when Aymeric gets home, we can ask what he thinks?” His white eyebrows lifted at the suggestion. “Hm, an interesting proposition. I suppose if my lord’s opinion is weighed as equally as yours, it could be a splendid idea.”

She grinned, and stated, “Well, we can’t stand around here, then. Let’s take a look!”

“Er, Mistress Sito, with all due respect, I would rather not aggravate your wounds further. Why do I not simply bring up the collection myself?”

“Angelbert-“ she was about to dispute it before she took a step ahead of her, and felt as if her core was tearing itself apart. She clutched her wound and strained to get out, “That’s a really good idea, you should do that.”

“Please drink your health potion, mistress! Shall I call the chirurgeon?”

She took her place back on the settee, held up a hand, and answered, “I’m a healer, Angelbert. I’ll take care of it. Just please, grab the paintings.” He bowed and left to find them while Dia examined her wounds and applied pain relief for herself, then drank the health potion as was recommended by the chirurgeon she was brought to, as well as Aymeric, her free company friends with whom she sought the treasure, the Scions, and now Angelbert.

A few minutes passed, and the elder steward returned with artwork in hand. “I found the collection, Mistress Sito.”

“Perfect. Here, sit down and we’ll look through it together.” The steward smiled and sat down with the portraits, ready to examine them together with her.

“This one’s just fruit”, she remarked at an unimaginative bowl of fruit topped with grapes, apples, and a banana, “Doesn’t go with anything up there, don’t you think?”

“I tend to agree.” The steward set the portrait to his side of the settee. “What of this one?”

“Oh, that’s a pretty landscape. I wonder where that is.”

“I’d recognize it anywhere: that’s Providence Point before the Calamity.”

“Aww…” she cooed, “Let’s add that to the ‘maybe’ pile.” Angelbert handed the portrait to Dia, who set it to her right side. “Uh…it’s just a splotch of blue…” she described confusedly of the next option.

“I believe it’s an abstract piece, up for interpretation.”

“I’m interpreting that it’s not a good fit up there.” The painting was placed in Angelbert’s ‘no’ pile on his side of the settee. The next portrait made Dia gasp in excitement. “Is that—“

A realistic portrait portrayed an elderly couple with a young boy between them wearing a green coat, green matching pants, and black dress shoes-typical of Ishgardian fashion- and sporting wavy black hair with similar bangs on his forehead, all parties with a neutral expression on their face. “There’s my lord as a lad with his parents. I remember when this portrait was taken, too. He couldn’t sit still, heehee.” Angelbert fondly reminisced of the time when this would have been painted.

“He’s adorable here! Look at him”, Dia marveled at the painting, “What’s this doing here with the rest of this collection?” Before Angelbert could theorize, he heard the sound of a key attempting to unlock the front door. “Ah, there’s Lord Aymeric now! Give me just a moment.” He stood up and quickly darted towards the front door, ready to greet him as was custom.

She kept searching through the rest of the collection, running into a flower vase, an abstract dining room, and an elezen woman holding a cat before she noticed the sound of his footsteps moving towards the parlor. “Ah, there you are!” she greeted cheerfully and attempted to stand up to meet him.

“Don’t you dare get up”, Aymeric ordered calmly, moving quickly towards the settee. She slumped back into her seated position and said, “Fine, then I shall simply sit here and waste away.” He kissed the top of her head from behind her. “‘Tis good to know you’re not being dramatic.”

She feigned a gasp. “Dramatic? Me? I’ve never been so insulted in my life…minus all those times I’ve been horribly insulted”, she teased. Aymeric laughed at her silliness.

“Now, if you have not been waited on hand and foot, I shall have a word.”

“Oh, don’t blame Angelbert. You’ll need more staff for that level of service.” Dia remembered the first time she visited Aymeric for dinner. The steward mentioned that House Borel employed the fewest staff members of any house of Ishgard, the amount being countable on one hand.

Aymeric pondered the suggestion. “You have a point.”

Dia’s eyes widened. “Well, hold on, I don’t actually want to be waited on hand and foot.”

“Neither do I, but Angelbert could certainly use the help. He’s not as young as he used to be.”

“He was young?” Dia joked. Aymeric gave a cautious laugh.

“Careful, Mistress. You’ll find yourself in a similar position one day”, Angelbert remarked as he carried tea and a new health potion. He placed the teacup and potion bottle on the table before Dia continued to joke, “I’m sorry, I refuse to believe you didn’t simply appear in the world anything less than fifty summers old.”

“Well, at least you’re generous with the age, Mistress Sito. Now, have you told Lord Aymeric what you had done before he came home?” he asked before promptly turning away to return to business.

“What did you do?” Aymeric asked Dia concernedly, “And does it have anything to do with all these portraits lying about?”

“Nothing bad, don’t worry. And yes, it does. I came up with an idea.” She pointed to the blank spot that kicked off the process. “That spot has been an immense bother to me since I first noticed it this morning. To that end did I bid Angelbert to help me fill it. He told me you had a bunch of unhanged portraits in the basement, and I asked him to bring them up here and we were trying to decide what to go with. I wanted to see which you would like.” She grabbed the family portrait and held it up so he could see it.

“Now I’m a big fan of this one. I’m not sure why it’s not up there now, but I’m sure there’s a reason, and if you don’t want it up there, you don’t need to put it up there…but you look adorable here, my love! At least consider it.” She set it back to it’s original spot and grabbed the landscape and explained, “This one was in the ‘maybe’ pile. It’s pretty, but it might also bring back some unwanted emotions about pre-Calamity times, so I understand if you don’t.” She set the landscape aside and grabbed the flower vase. “Now at first, I saw the flower vase and thought it was kind of boring, but now that I look at it again, it’s growing on me.”

Aymeric blinked and asked, “You were rather bored, weren’t you, dear?”

“Insanely so. Point is, I think we should fill that blank piece of wall with something, and there are some options here to do so. I know that you’re a bit too busy to think about stuff like decorations regularly, but your opinion matters to me, and I want to know what you think.”

“I would prefer we didn’t fill it at all…at least, not yet.” Dia raised an eyebrow in confusion to that statement. “What? Why?” Aymeric walked towards the empty wall space and stared at it.

“That family photo you adore so much was the original portrait that filled this gap.” Aymeric let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I took it down after the new government was formed.”

Dia carefully stood up, and slowly stepped towards him. “But why?” she whispered.

He hesitated to answer, but finally explained after a moment, “‘Tis silly, but…it transformed itself into a reminder. It reminded me that I was once an object of gossip and scorn, that generally, I was rather disliked by many of the other houses due to those origins of mine. In a way, it mocked me. I couldn’t be burdened with those memories as someone who needs to lead such people into a new age. Yet, that portrait served as something that would yank me back into the old and antiquated, into a position that I care not to relive. As such, it served no purpose sitting there, and so, I had it taken down.”

Dia frowned. She didn’t want to bring back bad memories with that. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, my dear. I never told you this, and simply hoped you wouldn’t notice. It worked for a while.”

“It did. Well, if that’s the case, why do you not want to fill the spot?”

Aymeric brought his gaze to her and responded with a raised corner of his lip, “In truth, I would like a new family portrait to hang here…one of you and I.”

Dia’s mouth went agape and after taking a moment to process what he told her, she let out a breathed laugh of delight and confusion. “Isn’t that more for married couples, people with their own children?”

“Is there anything traditional about the two of us, about what we’re doing here? I’m a bastard leading a country that detests bastards so, unofficially courting an outsider as she unofficially lives in my family manor. But a few years ago, such thoughts would be unthinkable. Yet here we are, living these thoughts as truth, and rather happily, if I may say so.”

Aymeric stepped towards her and gently gripped her hands. “You are my family, whether that is seen in the eyes of Halone and Ishgard or not, and if you would entertain the idea, I would like to commemorate that soon. You need but say the word, and I shall find the time and artist.”

Dia didn’t know quite what to say. There was no other thought in her head, no conflicting emotions to tell her it was a lie, not when he looked to her with such sincerity. Strangely lucid, yet hazy, lost when she was so clearly found, the only thing she felt was adoration. Her ardor for the man seemed boundless, ever growing, and in this moment, it swelled gloriously.

Not that she was ever capable of vocalizing such emotions.

She kissed his cheek, then brought her forehead to his and asked softly and half-jokingly, “Do I get to choose the outfits?”

“You will have full control over anything you’d like, my love.” She liked the sound of that, so much so, that she met her lips with his, and they enjoyed their warm embrace for all it was worth. Like coming in from a cold winter’s night, their company was the hearth they sat near for warmth. The fire easily burned brighter. This was the most stimulating activity Dia’s experienced since she sustained her injury, and Halone knew Aymeric dealt with the House of Lords far too much to not feel the least bit greedy at her touch. He pulled in her closer, and she happily obliged.

Her wounds did not, however.

She yelped in pain and backed away.

“Are you all right?!”

“Give me a moment, I’ll be fine!” she strained through gritted teeth. Dia started preparing healing spells for herself while he quickly darted for the coffee table to grab the health potion Angelbert prepared and returned to her side with it. Slowly, the tension she exuded began to melt as the pain was being relieved gradually. She passed the worst of it, and gulped down the potion as required.

Godsdammit, she thought.

“I’ll just sit down then”, she announced meekly.

“A good idea”, he affirmed as he took her shoulders to stabilize her and make sure it wouldn’t reopen as she walked.

“Was this how you felt after our experience with the True Brothers of the Faith?” he asked her as he helped seat her.

“Ha! Not even close. You’ll need to feel completely baffled that someone could just stand up and fight off four people hours after being stabbed on top of abject fear for my life.”

Aymeric shook his head. “Well, I, for my part, will attempt to avoid doing anything so reckless again. I realize that danger tends to follow you regardless of what you do, but it still hurts to see you so.”

Dia folded her arms and sarcastically responded, “Hm, and I’m just so thrilled about it.”

“Must you be sarcastic about this?”

“Sorry, it’s the pain talking.”

He stayed silent. She nudged herself closer to him and rested her head on his pauldron. “You sure that this is what you want as your family? A snarky witch who teases you constantly?”

He removed his pauldrons and pulled her in with one arm so she could rest on him easily.

“Without a doubt in my mind.”

[dex-xe]

if you’re still taking requests i’d love to see “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” with alison and thomas cause u know that lil bitch gets panic attacks/meltdowns and i feel like alison’d be hella good at talking him thru em

Thomas, Alison, Pat & the Captain General #23: “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?”

(So this is a fic for these three, I couldn’t decide who to write so here’s all three of them trying to deal with an upset Thomas. Also,, for some reason these are getting no interaction on ao3, yes they’re on there as well, so if anyone wants to go check out some of my stuff on there pls do @/littlemouseinapartyhat :))) Also I know all the fics so far have focussed on a select few characters but the next one will be the Button House women on a sleepover,, spoiler alert Fanny joins in and has fun :P)

Prompt list

Inbox

Far too many times, Pat and the Captain had discovered Thomas buried to his eyes in the murky green water of the lake. It was hardly a surprise to either when Thomas had bolted from the house and dove into the water with the arrival of a new Lord Byron with film crew in tow. As soon as his overwhelming emotional meltdown had begun, Pat and the Captain had shared one single glance across the film set, a knowing glance of full understanding of what they must do later. Their usual nightly patrol was punctuated by a detour to the lake where they, like usual, would sit on the grassy bank beside the water for two hours persuading Thomas to come inside. They’d eventually peacefully appease him and watch as Thomas took the long and silent walk back to the house where he’d dramatically flop into his bed - and remain there for days on end. Pat waited until the Captain had finished gawking after Adam to catch his arm and drag him swiftly towards the lake. They stood on the shoreline watching Thomas huff and puff in the dark water, running his fingers repeatedly through his soft curly hair. “So what do we do exactly?” Someone asked. Unaware they had been followed, both men spun around to find Alison behind them, hands on hips gazing out at Thomas. Pat turned back to face the lake, stepping up the algae ridden waterline. “Thomas!” He called. “Thomas! Are you alright?” Thomas didn’t respond. Instead ducking further below the surface to drop his nose under the water too. “Listen, Thorne!” The Captain shouted out to him. “It’s getting dark, you must come inside at once.” “Does he listen?” Alison asked. “Eventually,” the Captain sighed. “You might care to take a seat, Alison. He can take a little while, whiny child.” Alison perched on the edge of the bank, picking at the grass as she rested her chin on her knees, ready to watch whatever Pat and the Captain had planned for the poet. “Thomas, do you want to talk about it?” Pat shouted. “I get you’re upset, mate. But come out and we can have a chat, yeah? What’s wrong?” Thomas stayed silent, staring blankly back as if not a single thought was running through his mind. “I know you don’t feel well, and I won’t pretend to know what’s happening in that little brain of yours but talking it out will make you feel a thousand times better, I promise,” Pat told him. “Now listen here, Thomas. I demand you listen to Patrick and vacate the water with haste,” the Captain yelled towards him. “The film crew’s left, Tom, nothing left here to worry about,” Pat said. “You can come inside and calm down a touch, yeah? Letting it all out will do you the world of good.” “The sun is setting, Thorne. Whatever this silliness is, you had better push it down deep and come inside!” “Captain, that’s not exactly the best advice at the moment,” Pat told the Captain covering his frustration with a small chuckle. “We’re here to fetch him from the water, not provide a therapy session.” Pat turned fully towards the Captain and held his hands out to try and placate him, hoping he wouldn’t resort to his idea of talking never helping - as he had insisted with Fanny only weeks earlier. “If we find out what is troubling him, we can get him out.” “But-“ Alison stood up abruptly and stepped between the two of them. “Okay, well you guys aren’t helping him in the slightest,” she said. “What? I’m helping?” They said simultaneously, snapping to face each other and shoot incredulous looks. “You’re not doing anything!” “Okay, my turn,” Alison returned to watching Thomas’ morose face above the water. She took her phone from her back pocket and dropped it onto the bank before pulling off her heavy green jumper. She stepped into the lake, muddy water splashing about her ankles and coating the cuffs of her jeans. She sighed at the thought of slaving over laundry the next morning to recover her best jeans. “What the bally hell are you doing?” The Captain questioned. “You can’t seriously be going out there?” Pat said. “Fetch Mike if I start to drown, hey?” She said before wading deeper into the water. She was pleasantly surprised that she could keep her feet planted firmly on the silty bottom of the lake as the freezing winter water pooled around her legs, then hips, all the way up to her shoulders, and to the point where she had to push up onto her tiptoes to keep her head above the surface. Reaching Thomas within a matter of moments, Alison stopped in front of him and dropped ever so slightly so she was eye to eye with him. “Thomas,” she said quietly. “Hey, look at me. Focus on me, alright?” She reached a dripping hand from out of the water and reached as if to cup his cheek, hovering millimetres away. “Can you hear me, Thomas?” Thomas nodded jerkily, trying not to break his eye contact with Alison. “Good, you don’t need people shouting advice at you from the shoreline. You need someone to bring you back down, don’t you?” He nodded again. “You’re floating, aren’t you? Well above the lake and you feel like you can’t come down because everything that’s happening in that head is keeping you up. I’m right, aren’t I?” “Yes,” his voice cracked. “I’ve been there, Thomas,” Alison confessed quietly. “I’ve felt that: where you desperately need someone to catch hold of your leg and just pull you back down. It’s a panic attack, Thomas, or something similar; I’m not sure but it’s nothing to be afraid of. I just need you to focus on me, yeah? And the water. The water? The water! It makes you feel sick, doesn’t it? Can you feel it, can you feel that nauseous feeling like when you touch someone living? It’s there, isn’t it?” A thought overtook Alison, a simple but risky idea. It could bring Thomas straight back to reality, or it could make him feel a thousand times worse. Her hand stayed in position close to Thomas’ face, as she flicked her attention to it slightly. Leaning forward, her hand pressed into his cold form fading through his skin momentarily. Thomas took a deep breath, he had no need to but the overwhelming emotion had stopped his breaths for so very long. “Can you feel it? Does it make you feel, Thomas?” She whispered, trying hard to keep her balance on the lake bed and not fall straight through Thomas. “Fair Alison,” Thomas whispered. “I- I feel sick.” “Good, it’s called ‘grounding’. Using the things around you to bring you back to reality. I’m right here with you, so use my touch, my voice,” Alison said calmly. She couldn’t help but think about the first anxiety attack she’d ever experienced. Year eleven, minutes before a presentation on igneous rocks - Mike had been the one to sit on the corridor floor with her and coach her through it, using the very same techniques she was employing for Thomas. “When there are people in the house, people who work to mock me, it is as if every noise, every colour, every person is simply too vibrant,” he whispered, barely audible to Alison. “It is as if every bone in my body is being accosted by the senses, too many senses.” “I know, I know,” Alison muttered. “I know, Thomas. But you mustn’t drown yourself in the lake! This doesn’t feel particularly pleasant for me, let alone the undead. So, don’t drown yourself, please. One of the best things about my near-death and questionable spiritual abilities is that I can help you.” “None of the others understand this horrific feeling,” Thomas said. “Patrick and the Captain, they do their best. But Captain is rather harsh and Pat insists on talking nonsense and then trying to hug me. I do not feel I need that.” “Then come to me, Thomas,” Alison urged. “Don’t drown yourself, what kind of a solution is that? Find me and we’ll talk.” “I do not wish to disturb when you are-,” Thomas started. “No, you’re not a disturbance. If you need me, I’ll be there.” Thomas nodded gently, trying not to put pressure on the cold spot where Alison was touching his face. “Now, I’m freezing to death out here, and I’m fairly sure there’s a fish in my jeans. Let’s go inside, you can choose a film, yeah?” “Yes please.” The light had dropped quickly, the orangey grey light of the evening had been replaced by darkness. They began the trudge back to the shore where Pat and the Captain were sat side by side on the bank, trying slightly too hard to seem nonchalant a hide their eavesdropping. Pat jumped up as he realised they were coming back, and the Captain uncrossed his legs to stand beside him. “Fantastic work, Alison!” Pat said, reaching out to take Thomas by the arm. He cowered away slightly, only to be guided slowly forward by Alison; more herding him than actually touching his waistcoat. Pat retreated holding his hands up in surrender. “That’s probably a record!” “Whatever did you say to get him away so quickly?” The Captain asked. “Stop being so nosy,” Alison chuckled, ringing the water out of her dark hair. “Thank you for your help, Pat, Cap. But just leave him be for a little while, okay? Come on, back in with you,” she said turning to Thomas. “I could do with a hot shower and some clothes that don’t contain ten gallons of pond water and an aquarium of creatures. Will you be okay sitting with the others for a bit while I get changed, Thomas?” Thomas contemplated and then nodded once at her beginning the long walk to the safety of the house. He was still away with the fairies, still flying high above the lake waiting for his feet to return to solid ground. But concentrating very hard, focusing on Alison in front of him - her voice and her touch, he could almost feel the very tips of his toes skimming the waterline. 

[m0srael]

#4 for @magpiefngrl's 2021 Summer Writing Challenge Prompts: The Power's Out + Found Family + 2nd POV + Story within a Story 1.8k | G | No Warnings (except for spoOoOoky stories) Week 1 (4.3k | M) // Week 2 (4.4k | E) // Week 3 (2k | E)

Read on Ao3

You’re clearing up after dinner when the lights start to flicker. The mid-summer storm outside has been raging for the better part of an hour and shows no signs of slowing.

“Harry…babe!” you call, trying to catch your oblivious boyfriend’s attention. He was the one who insisted on moving into this Muggle house in a Muggle neighborhood powered by Muggle electricity. He should be the one to fix this.

“HARRY!” you bellow, as the lights flicker again.

“Bloody Merlin, what, Draco? Stop shouting!” he says, breezing into the kitchen as if your concern about the lights is entirely unfounded and you are overreacting...again.

You roll your eyes and fight a smile as he wraps his large hands around your hips, pushing you into the edge of the sink and trailing the edge of your jumper in the soapy water that’s escaped the basin.

You yelp when the lights flicker a final time before going off for good.

“What, love, afraid of the dark?” Harry teases against the nape of your neck.

You scoff and push him off, opening your mouth to retort before two tiny squeals reverberate from somewhere overhead.

“Oh, here we go..” you say, as two sets of small feet thunder down the stairs and through the sitting room. You wonder, for probably the millionth time, how two such small creatures can be so very loud. You were never that loud. Then again, if you had been, the consequences would have been... You’re secretly grateful for their noise.

“Dad, dad, dad, dad…”

“Scorpius, Scorpius, Scorpius, Scorpius…” you reply, scooping your son up into your arms.

“The lights have gone.”

“Have they? I hadn’t noticed,” you respond, drily, plopping Scorpius firmly back onto his feet.

“Careful, cub, stop running--you’re going to run straight into the table, or a wall…” Harry says, gripping Teddy by the shoulders to steady him in the dim kitchen. The only light comes from the streetlamp in the alleyway out back and the rapid flashes of lightning slicing through the sky.

“Harry...Scorp and I have just started on a Lego dragon, can you come light the lamps with your wand or something?” Teddy whines, tugging at Harry’s shirt like he’s two instead of twelve.

“Hmm...I have a better idea,’ Harry says. You recognize the look in his eyes, it’s the one that always precedes mischief.

“Scorp, you remember where we keep the marshmallows? Great, grab those...and the graham crackers!” Harry calls after Scorpius as he darts into the pantry.

“What are you up to?” you ask, poking a finger into Harry’s side.

“A time-honored Muggle tradition...you’ll like it, you’ll see.”

--

Harry insists you all forgo the perfectly good couches you spent days picking out and sit on the cushions he’s conjured on the sitting room floor. He arranges you in a circle around a conjured flame, floating in a shallow bowl.

“Mmm, we should turn the lights off more often, dad!” says Scorpius sliding several sticky fingers between his lips. He’s chosen to entirely ignore Harry’s careful s'more making instructions in favor of fitting as many charred marshmallows into his mouth at once as he can manage.

“Okay, okay, Scorp, take a breather, yeah?” you say, grabbing his hand and trying to clear the sugary cobweb from between his fingers with a napkin. “They’re never going to sleep, now, Potter, and I hold you solely responsible.”

“Come onnn, Draco, don’t be such a buzzkill!” Teddy groans around his own s’more, chocolate smeared around the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, Draco, don’t be such a buzzkill!” Harry echoes. You glare at him as you respond to Teddy.

“Edward, I don’t know where you pick up these phrases, but I assure you I am not a buzzkill. I’d just like to get some sleep sometime this century.”

“Okay, okay, everyone shh…” Harry cuts in. “I’ve got a story for you.”

Scorpius wriggles on his cushion next to you, giddy from the sugar high and hanging on Harry’s every word. You place a hand on the top of his head to settle him.

Harry leans over the little conjured flame, shadows playing across his face and his eyes glinting behind his glasses.

“Once upon a time, there were two boys,” he begins, poking Scorpius in the tummy and setting off a cascade of giggles.

“Once upon a time,” he tries again, “there were two boys who were driving home from the movie theatre.”

“Who was it??” squeals Scorpius. “It’s me and Teddy, right??”

“Can’t be, Harry won’t teach me how to drive,” Teddy huffs.

“Ted, you’re twelve, twelve-year-olds can’t even get their permit…” you start.

“Ssssssshh…” Harry silences you with a raised hand. “Yes. One dark and stormy night, Teddy and Scorp were driving home from the movie theatre.”

“What film were we seeing? Was it Toy Story, Harry?” Scorpius whispers as if he’s trying to respect Harry’s request for silence but he desperately needs to know.

“Yes, love, it was Toy Story,” Harry whispers back. “So, Teddy and Scorpius decide to drive up to the top of a very tall hill overlooking the city.”

“Why?” asks Teddy.

“Why not, Ted, let him finish or we’ll be here till next weekend,” you scold, tossing a marshmallow that bounces off of Teddy’s nose. Teddy scoffs but pops the marshmallow into his mouth.

“As Teddy and Scorpius sit, taking in the beautiful view, an emergency news bulletin comes across the wireless.” Harry covers his mouth with one hand to muffle his voice and affects a newscaster’s cadence, “Breaking news, breaking news! A very dangerous convict has escaped from the local prison. We urge all citizens to be on the lookout, the man is missing one hand, and in its place he has….” Harry pauses for dramatic effect before leaning forward, hands raised, “a hook!”

“Coooooool…” interjects Teddy.

“Harry, where is this going?” you hiss as Scorpius climbs into your lap. Harry flaps the fingers of one hand at you dismissively, and you have half a mind to bite them.

“Harry, why does he have a hook instead of a hand?” Scorpius asks.

“I don’t know, Scorp, he had an accident.”

“And...the Healers couldn’t regrow his hand?”

“No, he isn’t a wizard so he can’t see the Healers.”

“Why is it a hook now, though?”

“Ummmmm, I don’t know. He thought it would be cool like Teddy does.”

“Oh.”

“Sshh, Scorp! I want to hear more about the guy with a hook for a hand!” says Teddy as he flicks Scorpius on the shoulder.

“Ow! You sssh, Ted, you’re the one who interrupted first!”

“Anyways,” Harry says firmly, planting his palms on his thighs. “The man on the radio tells everyone listening that they should alert the authorities immediately if they see a man with a hook for a hand. He’s a very dangerous murderer and won’t hesitate to kill anyone he encounters.”

“Wicked!” cries Teddy.

“One boy says to the other--”

“Scorpius and Teddy!”

“Yes, Scorpius says to Teddy: I don’t like the sound of that, we should probably go home!” Harry says, lowering his voice to a register far deeper than you’ve heard any five or twelve-year-old speak in. Scorpius just giggles and squirms about in your lap.

“Oh, don’t be silly, that man with a hook for a hand will never climb up this big hill!” Harry says, raising his voice about ten octaves. You wince as his voice cracks on the word never.

“Oi! I don’t sound like that!” objects Teddy. You hit him with another well-aimed marshmallow.

“JUST THEN,” Harry shouts across the giggling and shouting, causing everyone to fall silent, “both boys heard the faintest scratching noise just outside the driver’s side window...almost like...the sound of a hook...scraping across metal….” Harry waggles his eyebrows.

“OH NO! THE MAN WITH THE HOOK! HARRY!” Scorpius shouts, nearly bursting your eardrum.

“Scorp, for Merlin’s sake, don’t shout!” you say, wrapping your arms around his middle to urge him back to sitting. He stuffs one small fist in his mouth in what you know is a self-soothing gesture. Oh lord, you think to yourself, if the sugar doesn’t keep him up all night, the nightmares surely will.

Harry looks Scorpius dead in the eye before continuing in a high-pitched voice, “No way, Teddy tells Scorpius, even if it was the man with the hook, he can’t get in here the doors are locked!”

“Oh, yeah! The doors are locked!” Scorpius mumbles around his fist. Harry nods, but the firelight glinting off his glasses makes him look positively sinister.

“Yeah, Scorp, the doors are locked, calm down you big baby!” Teddy teases.

“Hey! You calm down, you big...jerk!” Scorpius fires back.

“Scorpius, what have I told you about calling people names?” you say, exasperated and ready for this whole charade to end. “Harry, is that the end of the story?”

“Oh no….ohhhhhh no, no,” Harry says, shaking his head and completely ignoring the unamused look on your face.

“You see,” he says, leaning in again and lowering his voice to a whisper. “When the two boys finally arrive home safe and sound, they step out of their car…”

“What…” Scorpius whispers back, fist firmly situated in his mouth.

“...they turn around to find….”

“Harry….” you say, warningly.

“A HOOK! HANGING FROM THE DOOR HANDLE!” Harry shouts.

What follows are possibly the most chaotic ten minutes of your entire life.

Scorpius shrieks and flails in your lap, overturning the bowl with the little conjured flame. The rug catches fire quickly.

Teddy starts chanting Harry’s name over and over and pointing at where the flames lick at the cushion he was just seated on.

You summon your wand, but Harry has his at the ready with a hastily muttered Aguamenti. The flames hiss as the water douses them, replacing the bright-hot fire with black smoke that has you all coughing into your sleeves.

You realize you’ve clutched Scorpius to your chest in a vice-like grip when he starts to pull at your sleeve and choke out, “Dad….dad! Let…me...go…”

“Sorry, Scorp...Ted, alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be alright? That was wicked, Harry! Nice one, Scorp!”

You roll your eyes, despite your still-leaping heart and rapid breathing, and jump as the lights flicker back on. The boys both groan in disappointment, but Scorp has one fist clenched around your wrist and the other still stuffed between his lips.

“Alright...bedtime, pajamas...now!” you say, sternly. “If anyone has any nightmares, I’m sure Harry will be more than happy to sleep with you!”

Harry just grins at you like the insufferable bastard that he is.

“Next time, let’s just light some lamps and make a Lego dragon, yeah? Or better yet, fix the bl--fix the lights!” you hiss.

[forever-rogue]

For the Halloween prompts! 40. "A ouija board on Halloween, what could go wrong?" with maxwell lord 😎

Enjoy! 😙🎃

»»————-　♡　————-««

"You cannot be serious," Maxwell sighed deeply as he allowed you to drag him into the living room. It was dark, save for some candles, "do you really know what you're asking for?"

"Of course," you insisted fervently, "we're going to play some games and a have a spooky time."

"Sure," he snorted as he eyed the board you had set up in the center of the table, "a Ouija board on Halloween, what could go wrong?"

“Oh Maxie,” you pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit down. He reluctantly did so, and you flounced over to the other side, sitting across from him and offering him a beaming grin, “live a little. Besides, it’s just a game. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Halloween, a dark and stormy night, this silly board,” he seemed exasperated as he waved his hands around dramatically, “how did you talk me into this?”

“It wasn’t hard,” you smirked at him, “your undying love for me was enough.”

“You asked me while we were in the middle of sex,” he reminded you as you offered him an innocent little shrug, “I hardly think that counts as fair. I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t-”

“-in the middle of me going down on you?” you suggested as he rolled his eyes, but you weren’t immune to the little smirk that was tugging on the corners of his mouth, “you may be a good businessman, but don’t forget who wear the pants in this relationship.”

“You are something else, you little minx,” he shook his head as he laughed at you. You were right thought and he wasn’t going to deny it. But before he could say anything else, lightening struck in the distance, lighting up the room and was quickly followed by thunder. The power was next as the dim lights you’d left on in the hall and kitchen flicked off. You made a small sound of surprise shoving the board away from you.

“Max?’ you said softly as walked back over to him, “I-I don’t like this.”

“Scared?” he teased as he pulled you into his lap and kept an arm tightly around you.

“Don’t be an ass,” you frowned at him, burying your face in his chest, “you know I hate this.”

“It’s fine, darling-”

A loud banging and clattering echoed in from the hallway as you grew nervous. It sounded like rattling doorknobs and loud banging, “Max, this better not be you trying to pull one over on me.”

“I swear it is not me.” he promised as he too seemed nervous, “I don’t know what it is.”

“W-we’re alone, right?” you asked quietly as he nodded. You groaned as you more sounds, this time from the bedroom, reached your ears, “well shit.”

“I’m sure there’s logical explanations for all of this,” he insisted as you nodded, hoping he was right, “it’s just our minds playing tricks with us...the whole atmosphere and everything.”

“Yeah?” you asked, “will to put your money on that, my love?”

“Hell no,” he insisted, “I’m not messing around with anything. I suggest we get that blanket, get under it and wait for this all to blow over.”

“That’s a horrible plan,” you almost laughed but he shrugged as he picked you up and walked over to the couch, gently setting you down on it.

“Got any better ideas?”

“Nope,” you insisted as he sat next to you, throwing the large plush blanket over both of you, “this is as good an idea as any. It we die, at least we die together!”

[myakkoh]

wonders in a hunt

(Read on Ao3 here!)

Thank you and shout out to @blackkatmagic for letting me have permission to write this silly fic!

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You see, there’s a novel.

A novel that was only published two months ago, detailing the events of a Jedi and a clone falling in love while undergoing an adventure that changed their lives in order to save the entire galaxy. It tells of a tale that many have fallen in love with and are eager for more.

Unfortunately, this novel is also Mace Windu’s greatest headache at the current moment.

Why?

Well, let’s just say, there are details in the novel that are extremely similar to the same events he had undergone with his husband a year ago, especially with the part where they faced Palpatine, the Sith Lord who has been right under their nose the entire time. It’s not just the book that’s Mace’s problem, though.

It’s who made the novel. No one knows who made the novel, just that it's an anonymous author.

When Mace first got introduced to the novel, it was about a few days ago, when he decided to take a break with Fives. Said Padawan took out his datapad and began to silently read something on it, dark eyes glued to the screen, scanning it slowly, ever so slowly. Chuckles and giggles have escaped him, before Mace became curious and asked what it was.

That was his first mistake, and how it all began.

                                      ~~~~~

“A novel,” Mace repeats as Fives gives him a bright grin, tilting his head to the side as he reads the title. Heartstill, the title says on the cover, followed behind by a picture of two hands clasping together. He can see silver bands shining around fingers on both hands, the design strangely familiar.

“Yeah,” Fives says, the grin still in place, the Force rippling around his Padawan softly. “It’s surprisingly really good, and the main characters kinda reminds me of you and Cody.”

Mace raises an eyebrow, though he’s more bemused than anything. It’s nice to see that Fives is having something else to do other than their training and meditation. “Is that so?” he asks, hands the datapad back to his Padawan.

“Yes, Master,” Fives answers cheekily, then says, “You can read it if you want.”

“Oh?” Perhaps he should ask Cody if he read this novel yet; his husband did like reading.

Fives only laughs. “Better than having Cody steal all the blankets, Master!”

“I thought you can’t hear through the walls?” Mace asks with slight amusement as Fives immediately looks horrified at the implied meaning. It’s always fun to tease his Padawan, even if all he and Cody do is stay close to each other in bed these days, curling into each other’s warmth.

Small gestures mean more than the large ones, after all.

“Oh my kriffing god, Master, I did not need to know that!”

                                 ~~~~~~

He did not have the chance to read the novel until a couple of days later, when he managed to secure some peace for himself. Cody’s currently on a guard shift at the Jedi Temple’s entrance, and Fives is off exploring Coruscant with some of the other Padawans, clones, and a Jedi Knight.

When Mace settles down on the couch, he reaches for the datapad Fives lent him, flipping to the novel and relaxes as he flips to the first page, beginning to read what many have been calling a masterpiece.

A couple of hours later has him stuck in the middle of said novel, because Mace is staring at the same page for the past few minutes. Multiple reactions are running through his head to what he’s read so far. Throwing the datapad to the wall or ripping it up with the Force may have been a very near thing.

Mace hasn’t mentioned the leviathan to anyone but the council and the ones who’ve been there with him, which was only Cody. Granted, the name in the novel is completely different, but the vivid details, the careful explanations of their abilities- it’s similar to a leviathan. Knows the effects of being too close to one, what it does-

Grimaces at the crystal-clear memory of it, doesn’t shudder, but it’s a close thing, enough to make him put down the datapad and stop reading for a few moments. He closes his eyes and breathes, curls his hand into a fist before he lets go.

Several events he’s read so far in the novel are similar to what he and Cody had experienced in Dromund Kaas, far too similar for his liking. It’s... slightly disturbing, to read the same events that personally happened to him. Someone on the council may have written this novel.

He only reopens his eyes when he hears the doors to his quarters slide open, Cody’s aura flickering tiredly and fondly. 

“You look like you went through Dromund Kaas again,” Cody observes with a tilt of his head, and Mace sends a small wave of wry amusement to his husband’s end of their bond. The clone commander only snorts, setting his bucket down and strips his armour before joining him on the couch.

Their fingers tangle together before they rest their hands on their legs, Cody leaning his head on Mace’s shoulder, and he can’t help but smile softly. 

“The horror,” is all Mace says in response, dry. “But, no. Have you read Heartstill?”

Cody furrows his brows, twists his head to look at him carefully. “You mean that novel everyone seems to be raving about these days? I haven’t read it, if that’s what you’re asking, but I heard it was good. Why?”

Mace wordlessly motions to the datapad on the table in front of them. A few beats of silence, then- “That’s Fives’ datapad.”

“I’m quite aware.”

“Why do you have Fives’ datapad?”

“He lent it to me.”

“He lent it to you.” Cody’s voice sounds flat, though a note of resignation makes its way through their bond. “Is this because of the novel?”

“If you’ll read it, you’ll understand,” Mace informs him. “I feel like someone in the council wrote this.”

“Yeah, yeah. When I get the time to, then I will.”

                               ~~~~~~

It takes a few more days before he manages to finally finish the novel.

Needless to say, Mace is more convinced that someone on the council has written this novel, considering they’re the only ones who have even read the mission report. It’s close, though. Very close. Too close for his comfort, really.

But who?

Thus, this begins the investigation of who has written the novel Heartstill. Needless to say, it produces a lot more headaches than expected.

                                ~~~~~~

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what prompted Mace into thinking he wrote a novel. The sheer indignation rattles inside him as he stares at the Jedi Master in his doorway. “A... novel, you say?” he asks weakly, praying that his question will make the man go away.

One doesn’t appreciate it when someone interrupts their time to sed- take their husband to bed. Said husband is currently sitting at the kitchen table and looking over paperwork after their last mission together. Obi-Wan would like to have some privacy with Rex, thank you very much.

Mace only raises his eyebrow. “Yes, the novel Heartstill,” he says.

He blinks in surprise. “The one that’s currently raging around the galaxy? Rex told me it was a fascinating read. Why?”

When Mace doesn’t answer, Obi-Wan closes his eyes, lets go of his annoyance, and says, “Mace, please don’t tell me that you believe that I wrote that novel.”

“... perhaps.”

“I should be offended, you know I would never write a novel.”

“Indeed,” Mace notes dryly. “However, your mission reports say otherwise. It is fascinating to read about the adventures you and Skywalker have, especially when chasing after Grievous and getting stuck in a cave, and I quote, ‘After a few moments of shock, we were horrified to learn that Anakin have managed to release poisoned gas into the air, with mere moments left to live.’ Yes, Obi-Wan, rather dramatic.”

“I,” Obi-Wan says lightly like the negotiator he is, “have not written that in my life. Perhaps you should ask Anakin if he wrote that part in that particular mission report.”

“Perhaps I will,” Mace says, like he doesn’t believe him. How dare he. “Good day, Master Kenobi.”

“And you as well, Master Windu.”

When the doors close behind him, Rex looks up from the table, amusement lighting up in those perfect brown eyes. “Did you really write that in your mission report?”

“Rex, we are not going to talk about that.”

                                   ~~~~~~

“What.” Agen is more confused than angry that Mace would accuse him of writing a novel. He only tilts his head to the side, Mace giving him a flat look. “A novel?”

“Heartstill,” Mace answers, and- oh. That’s the novel that Dogma and Tup have been reading together during their free time, and honestly Agen doesn’t have enough patience to sit still for one novel, even if it does sound intriguing. “I take it you have never read it before?”

“Yes,” Agen says slowly, trying to make sense of what Mace is trying to say. Dogma’s aura flashes curiosity before fading away, and he focuses on the Councillor in front of him. Usually Mace would never bring something like this up unless it’s important. If it is, then he might not be able to help. He has no idea what Heartstill is even about. “Why?”

Mace slowly blinks at him. Ah. He immediately gets the message.

Agen doesn’t even know a single thing about writing a novel, and writing mission reports and normal reports are completely different. He can only look back at Mace and think that whoever wrote the novel that made Mace Windu chasing after the Jedi Councillors is quite a sentient.

“Master Windu, I heard that Master Ti is in the gardens with Tup and Colt,” Dogma says helpfully, takes Mace’s attention off of him. Mace nods a thanks to his commander and the doors slide shut.

After one long second, Agen turns around to face Dogma, and tilts his head to the side again. “What is Heartstill about?” he finally asks.

“A Jedi and a clone falling in love, sir. Why?”

And this is why he’s more partial to taking missions in the Outer Rim; Agen wouldn’t have to deal with anything like this. “How many weapons do we have left?” he asks instead, walks towards the couch and grabs one of Dogma’s blasters to clean.

“Sir,” Dogma says very slowly, carefully, like he’s about to step into a danger zone filled with landmines and slavers and droids. Agen rather likes that combination; the odds are good, especially between him and Dogma. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning to destroy another slaver base that belongs to Aruk the Hutt again.”

Agen deliberately chooses not to answer that.

                               ~~~~~~

Shaak is smiling very dangerously, and Colt would like it to be known that his wife’s smile is beautiful and kriffing hot and it also means he should stay a few steps back because of what will happen next.

“Mace, old friend,” Shaak says with perfectly practiced innocence, something sharp dancing in her eyes. Colt swallows, and he really wants to grab her and steal her away to somewhere... more private. “Whatever do you mean by that accusation? I would never write a novel in my life.”

Mace stares her down, strong and unflinching. “Oh?”

“Indeed.” Shaak tilts her head to the side, a smile of an innocent predator, while Tup is watching the exchange with wide and fascinated eyes. Colt is also tempted to drag his brother further away so they don’t get caught in the soon-to-be-ensuing battle. “Have you tried, say... Kit? He really is good at writing those mission reports, wouldn’t you agree?”

The other Jedi Master looks rather exasperated and close to breaking something, even if his impassive expression doesn’t show anything. “Perhaps,” Mace says calmly. “You have a tendency to describe battles... interestingly.”

“Is that so?” This time, Shaak rises to her feet, and dips her head towards him. “Well, then you know that I’m not the culprit, my old friend.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure.” With that, the Jedi Master spins around and stalks away, and Colt can’t help but glance towards his wife. A look of triumph passes through her face, before settling into her usual, soft smile.

“Master, what did he mean by that?” Tup asks curiously.

“Oh, Tup. I just write... differently in my mission reports is all.” That smile should be illegal, and shouldn’t be making his heart squeeze tightly.

But by this point, Colt is a desperate man and he really wants to kiss Shaak senseless and make sure she knows that he loves her. From the sweet smile she sends him, Shaak knows it, too.

                                 ~~~~~~

“I did not write a novel.”

“Kit-”

“I did not write a novel,” Kit repeats again for the twelfth time as Mace stares at him. “I swear on the Force, I did not.”

The Force only ripples in response, as if offended Kit would choose it as a sacrifice to try and convince Mace. Disgruntled, Mace lets it go and sighs. After all, Kit has been repeating the same words over and over again ever since he found the Nautolan near the entrance to the Jedi Temple, delicately holding a bag.

His mission reports are similar to the novel’s writing, but also entirely different, and-

Wait.

“Kit, are those thermal detonators?” Mace asks with slight disbelief.

The Nautolan freezes before offering a hesitant smile. The grip on the bag tightens but doesn’t drop. “Yes.”

He suppresses the headache he can feel coming. Usually the Nautolan wouldn’t even touch a thermal detonator unless there’s a reason to. “Master Fisto,” he says, cautiously approaching the subject because obviously they’re going to be an occurrence, especially from the look on Kit’s face. “Who are they for?”

“Allow me to say that-”

“Kit.”

“-I heard that Master Kolar needed some more,” Kit continues breezily, and- oh. Oh no. Mace briefly considers taking Cody on another honeymoon to avoid dealing with this. He didn’t think this could happen, but... it really is happening, and he knows how Agen is.

Agen is oblivious to all courting attempts, and he’s not losing the bet to Depa that it’d take a few months for Agen to realize there is a courting attempt.

“I see,” he says steadily, then gives him a respectful nod. “Good luck for you and Agen. You will need it.”

Kit stares at him like he’s grown an extra head. “What- what do you possibly mean by that, Mace? Mace!”

Mace is already turning away. He needs to continue on with his... errands, not watch two of his fellow Councillors dance around each other.

“Mace! Come back here! What do you mean by that!”

He only walks faster.

                               ~~~~~~

Adi raises her eyebrow. “Are you alright, Mace?” she asks in concern, because her fellow Jedi Master and Councillor looks ready to crush something close to him. She’s the only one in range of that, and she would like to have no broken bones, thank you.

Mace blankly stares at her. “You’re not the one who wrote Heartstill.”

“I did not write Heartstill,” Adi says, confused, and that’s new. Mace wouldn’t bring up a popular novel into the conversation. “But it’s a very good novel, I will have to admit that. Though the events are similar to the reports we received from you and Cody.”

From the unimpressed look he’s giving her, it seems that she’s right in guessing this is what it’s about.

“Well, Yoda wouldn’t be the one who wrote it, considering his grammar,” she says, and Mace closes his eyes as if he’s in pain from remembering said grammar. To be fair, all of Yoda’s reports are all filled with different grammar and sometimes, she has to enlist Eeth or Depa’s help in translating some of them. “Depa would have written something a little more exaggerated than the actual events.”

“That is true.” Pride and amusement flickers across Mace’s face before steeling itself back into his usual expression. “I suppose you might know where Master Mundi is?”

“Ki? He should be in his quarters.”

“Thank you, Adi.”

Adi finds herself more bemused than anything.

                             ~~~~~~

Ki blankly stares at Mace, before he shakes his head in confusion. “What novel?”

Mace only rubs a hand over the side of his face.

(In all honesty, Ki is slightly terrified by the one-second murderous look in Mace’s eyes before it fades away and the Jedi Master stalks off with a quick farewell. Hopefully whoever wrote this novel that clearly annoyed Mace will live. Hopefully.)

                             ~~~~~~

Eeth is very close to slamming the door right in Mace’s face and heading back to sleep. Look, when someone gets back from a mission that somehow led from peaceful negotiation to a full-blown civil war because of a single insult, they would be exhausted, too.

But Eeth is also a very dignified Zabrak (unlike Agen, who has a penchant to go straight into the violence and then offers sentients the solution of surrendering after knocking them around). So he obliges Mace and allows the other Jedi Master to enter his quarters, before taking a deep breath and surrendering his anger to the Force.

“May I help you, Master Windu?” he asks tiredly.

“How was your mission, Master Koth?”

“Fine,” Eeth answers flatly and resolves to setting the system settings to the off switch after this so he can get some sleep. “You already received my report, Mace. What else do you need, if it’s clearly not about my mission?”

Perhaps that’s a little too blunt, but Eeth has been running on three hours of sleep for the past two days and he really wants to sleep. Badly. One month of dealing with negotiations, a civil war, and then back to negotiations. He considers asking for one month of leave after dealing with that nonsense.

“Have you heard of Heartstill?”

Yes, yes, Eeth has heard about it. In fact, several of the clone troopers who have been with him on his mission had told him about the novel, detailing the romance of a Jedi General and a Clone Commander. Privately, he thinks it could deal with more outside forces that stops the romance from prevailing, but it sounds rather promising the way it is.

“I have,” Eeth says neutrally, tilts his head to the side. “Why?”

“I have my suspicions that someone in the council has written it, and I intend to find out who it is.” Mace looks at him with narrowed eyes, and he has to suppress a sigh. Of course Mace would think he would be writing it.

“I see,” is all he manages to say. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course.” Mace pauses, then, because Mace is a bastard, he adds, “Agen is being courted.”

His mind immediately stops at that, because what the kriff. Agen? Being courted? The most oblivious of them in the Jedi High Council is being courted? Eeth closes his eyes, slightly concerned for the one who’s apparently trying to court his friend. Whoever has the sheer boldness to do that deserves luck. “And who is trying?”

“Kit.”

Never mind, Kit doesn’t need the luck. Agen is the one who needs the luck, seeing how Kit can flirt to no end, almost on par with Obi-Wan. “I’ll take the next two missions for someone on the bet if Kit manages to get Agen’s attention within the next two months via flirting.”

Mace is not outwardly laughing at him, but he is laughing and Eeth doesn’t appreciate it. “Alright.”

Eeth may or may not consider kicking Mace out of his room right there and then.

                              ~~~~~~

Mace is very close to finding the culprit of the novel Heartstill.

There’s only one member left of the council that he’s yet to ask; Plo Koon. The said Jedi Master has been seemingly smiling every time Mace passed him, and that’s enough to cause suspicions. Enough to know that his friend is tricky enough to slip past his questions and straight past his defences.

Knows exactly how Plo will act, especially when they’ve known each other in the creche, and it’s slightly amusing to know that Plo might do something drastic. Like taking in two Zabraks from the Nightsisters, and training them when the Kel Dor has the time.

Feral looks up from his datapad to nod politely to Mace when he enters Plo’s quarters with the code his friend gave him a long time ago. Wolffe cleans his blasters while Savage naps close to him. “Master Windu,” Feral greets quietly, inclines his head. “Master Plo should be in the Archives.”

“Tell that jetii of mine to eat, sir,” Wolffe tells Mace. “He told me to babysit these two.”

Feral doesn’t blink an eye, obviously used to Wolffe’s words. “You know that we won’t damage Master Plo’s quarters.”

“Last time you said that, you and Savage managed to nearly destroy the kitchen when I was looking for my jetii,” Wolffe informs the small Zabrak dryly, Savage already opening an eye to stare at them. “So don’t bother. Sir, just make sure he ate and didn’t break his neck down there.”

“Of course,” Mace says, bemused. “May the Force be with you.”

Feral only gives him a soft smile as he leaves Plo’s quarters.

                                  ~~~~~~

He’s met with the sight of Agen, his hair untied, tiny black dots catching the light when the Zabrak inclines his head.

“Master Fisto,” Agen greets, silky black hair falling over his shoulders. Dark eyes skim the bags, and he can see Agen’s commander quickly scurrying away. Ah well, at least he can finish this up quickly and then take Agen for a run to the gardens after getting caf for both of them.

“Master Kolar,” Kit says cheerfully as he holds up the two bags in his hands. He knows how much Agen appreciates the gestures of resupplying him with weapons that the Zabrak needs. “These are the flash-bang grenades.”

Surprise flickers across Agen’s face, before his eyes soften, even if his expression doesn’t change. “You remembered.”

“So I did,” Kit easily says, politely waits for Agen to allow him to step inside the Zabrak’s quarters. Amusement curls at the edge of Agen’s tiny smirk, and all he wants to do is smile back and wait forever.

(Depa is a dignified Jedi Master; so if anyone says that they saw her take a holo of Master Fisto and Master Kolar standing together, they are a liar. She did no such thing.)

                         ~~~~~~

Unsurprisingly, Plo is in the Archives. Again.

“Ah, hello, Mace,” the Kel Dor greets with a smile in his voice as Mace approaches him. Plo is already taking out a datapad with a soft hum, a talon clicking against it with an echo. “Did you know how interesting Zabrak poetry can be when being expressed out loud?”

“Pardon?” Mace asks in bewilderment, a beat little too late.

Why is Plo asking him about Zabrak poetry? Granted, this could have been discussed with the other Zabraks in the Jedi Order, given that Mace has little knowledge of it. Though... if he can just steer the conversation to the novel, then he’ll know whether or not Plo is the one who wrote it, and then make sure no one else is writing a novel based on actual events too close for his comfort.

“They have such wonderful sounds when conveying it. Such as this one here...”

This, Mace thinks with an oncoming headache as Plo continues to ramble about the poetry, is going to be exhausting.

                            ~~~~~~

“Plo-”

“Oh, Mace, I’m not finished with explaining the messages inside the poems yet!”

“Did you write Heartstill?”

Plo emits amusement into the Force. “That’s not the topic right now, is it, Mace? Now, as I was saying, there are some hidden messages within each line for each sound they make...”

Cody is going to become a widower if Mace doesn’t survive this.

                           ~~~~~~

Cody finally finds his husband in the Archives after a couple of hours, impassively staring at Plo Koon with an exasperated look, though no one can tell unless they know him or look very closely.

“Master Koon,” he says formally, dips his head in greeting when Plo waves a four-fingered hand to him. Mace’s slight relief rises in their bond, before fading away to exasperation and fondness for the Kel Dor. “Mace, there you are.”

“Cody,” Mace says as he rises to his feet from the chair, gives Plo a look, before the Korun offers his hand to him. “Something urgent?”

Cody only rolls his eyes and grabs his husband’s hand to lead him out of the Archives, away from delicate datapads and apparently Mace’s current headache. “Not really,” Cody answers after a fair distance away from the Archives. “But you haven’t answered my calls for the past six hours, and that was before you told me you were going to find Master Koon.”

Mace stops, slightly turns his head towards him. “Six hours,” his husband repeats.

“Yes, Mace. Six hours. I didn’t realize you liked debating with Master Koon for that long.”

“Yes,” Mace agrees, dry. Displeasure flashes in their bond, before Mace carefully tucks it away and lets it go. “I very much enjoy debating with Master Koon about Zabrak poetry.”

Cody pauses, turns to stare at his husband. “... why were you discussing Zabrak poetry?”

“That is a mystery I would like to know myself.”

                              ~~~~~~

Humming, Plo opens the doors to his quarters and steps in, the sight of Feral and Savage curled up on the couch in front of him, the Zabrak brothers sleeping peacefully. On a chair nearby, Wolffe is reading his datapad, his head lifting to meet his gaze. He should get a holo of this.

“Sir,” Wolffe greets, sets the datapad down as Plo walks towards him. “Did you eat?”

“Yes,” Plo immediately says, and Wolffle closes his eyes like he’s going to do something rather drastic. The clone points to the kitchen, gives him a glare that makes him want to smile. “Wolffe, my dear...” He stumbles over the next word. “... partner, I did eat before going into the Archives.”

Woffle lifts an unimpressed eyebrow before his shoulders relax and the clone offers him a tight smile and a grimace. “Sorry, sir, watching these two are going to give me grey hair.”

“I have faith you will prevail, Wolffe,” Plo says, and- he knows that Wolffe will be able to handle it, knows that he can trust him with these kinds of tasks. Wolffe seems to know it, too, judging from the tilt of his head and the slow blink of dark brown eyes.

Breathes, and his chest tightens when Wolffe flashes him a sweet, tender smile, before it turns crooked with teeth. “You always do.”

“I always do,” he easily agrees, steps forward to gently tilt his head down to press his forehead against Wolffe’s.

He watches as Wolffe’s eyes flutter shut at the contact, and a comfortable silence surrounds them. Plo smiles behind his rebreather, and it’s calming, to stay like that with Wolffe, Wolffe’s hands catching his and tracing gentle shapes on his skin. It feels like there’s nothing that can stop him from feeling this much.

The Force hums with approval around them.

Wolffe slowly pulls away from him, dark eyes watching his every move. “Why was Master Windu looking for you this time?”

Plo pauses, and lets out a chuckle. “Heartstill.”

“You should have never written that novel, sir,” Wolffe says with an exasperated look, full of fondness and contentment and other emotions Plo doesn’t dare to say out loud. One look is enough for the both of them, enough to last them a lifetime.

It’s enough for them both.

“Ah, but Wolffe, where’s the fun in that?”

                                  ~~~~~~

Anakin stares at the message in front of him, before looking up to see his wife and boyfriend going through the senators’ fashion choice on their holograms. Both are laughing at something he can’t hear from where he is, before he looks back down at the message again.

Anakin, whatever you do, Obi-Wan’s message reads, do not claim that you wrote Heartstill. Or anger Master Windu.

Why would he claim that? Or anger Mace? 

“Ani?” Padme calls, and he looks up to see his wife smiling that beautiful smile, and Fox with his really cute dimple. “What are you reading?”

“Obi-Wan’s messages to me,” he answers, sets the datapad down and joins them on the floor to stare at the new senator on the screen. Anakin reels back from the hologram of unbelievable taste, and wrinkles his nose. “Okay, what in the karking hells is that? Are they trying to copy Sidious’ fashion of puffy sleeves?”

“Yeah,” Fox says, his eyes bright and his smile sharp. “It’s really not that great, isn’t it, Ani?”

Fox’s use of his nickname makes him lean down and gently press a kiss on Fox’s cheek. The clone blushes, looks away, and Padme giggles and leans back against him. It’s nice, to have two of the people he cares about with him, and maybe they can plan out a wedding to include Fox to officially announce him as part of his and Padme’s married life.

It would make Fox happy, make Padme happy, and he wants that for them and more.

“What do you think about a wedding?” Anakin asks curiously. Fox’s head shoots up from staring at the hologram to stare at him, his cheeks flushing red at the mention of one.

“For Fox?” Padme’s smile is full of vicious triumph. “I think he’ll look good in blue.”

“I look best in red,” Fox tells them dryly, but he’s smiling, and Anakin can only count that as a victory, as a vow to the people he loves the most.

“You would look good either way, Fox,” Anakin reassures him.

They have a wedding to plan.

                                  ~~~~~~

Shaak slowly blinks. “I will bet two trips to the ice cream parlour for all the younglings and clones in small groups.”

“I will ask that if I win this, I get to have a month’s leave to travel with my Padawan,” Depa says as she drops a couple of credits into the pot. “He always did want to see the ancient Jedi Temples.”

“Try my cake for once, you all will,” Yoda adds. Everyone present (except for Kit and Agen, who are the subjects of the said bet) shudders at the memory of the bug-infested mud cake (Adi remembers seeing a frog leg sticking out of one of Yoda’s cakes once. It was slightly horrifying if you have to ask her).

Ki watches helplessly as his fellow Councillors place their bets, buries his face into his hands, and lets out a groan. How is he the only sane one left?

                                 ~~~~~~

Six days of investigation of his fellow Councillors later, Mace wordlessly hands the datapad (that has caused him several unnecessary headaches) back to Fives.

“Uh, Master, are you alright?” his Padawan asks, furrows his brows.

Mace only nods and firmly turns around, hears Fives following him. He’s going to lead Fives to the Archives to make him read the Jedi Order’s history. Maybe the entire history later, but he’s not so vicious to inflict that on his budding Padawan.

That novel is a headache and deserves to be treated as such after Fives gave it to him to read.

If anyone says that making Fives read the Jedi Order’s history is revenge, they are a filthy, filthy liar. This is justice at its finest form, and he’s going to make sure it stays that way. Preferably without Plo describing Zabrak poetry to him again. He still doesn’t know how he stayed there for six hours.

Now, for the bets on Kit and Agen... Mace is going to win it. 

(Behind him, Fives shudders at the foreboding feeling of doom and hopes that his Master isn’t planning anything bad.)

((It’s only another couple of days later before Mace realizes that Plo didn’t deny anything and is left wondering if Plo wrote Heartstill or not. He still doesn’t have an answer.))

[entity9silvergen]

We Dance To Fast Music (ATLA Fanfiction)

Summary: Zuko didn’t like to dance. Neither did Mai. But Ty Lee did and they’d do it for her. Fortunately for them, Ty Lee cared about how they felt and wanted to show them just how wonderful music could be. All Zuko and Mai knew were slow dances, the things of ballrooms and romance. Ty Lee only knew the dances of friendship, freedom, and fun.

Fandom: ATLA

Characters: Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee, Sokka, Suki, Aang, Katara, Toph

Relationships: Ambiguous relationships, Katara/ Aang, Zuko & Mai & Ty Lee, Gaang & Mai & Ty Lee, Zuko & Mai & Ty Lee & Suki &Sokka

Other Tags: Ambiguous Relationships, AroWriMo, Dancing, Dancing Dragon, Tsungi Horn, Wedding, Platonic Relationships, Music

Warnings: None

Word Count: 8K

Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

Author’s Note: This was written for Aromantic Writing Month 2021 Week 2. The prompt is Freedom & Music. It is not explicitly mentioned if characters are aro in this story. The main focus is on friendships and platonic relationships being valued equally. You can decide which however you want to interpret each character’s romantic and sexual orientations. 

It also does not explicitly state if any characters are in relationships (except Aang and Katara) so you can read into it however you want. I played around with Mai/ Zuko, Mai/ Zuko/ Ty Lee, Suki/ Sokka, Mai/ Zuko/ Ty Lee/ Suki/ Sokka, or them all just being platonic friends but none of it stuck. There is emphasis that these relationships are not strictly romantic but you can interpret any of them as qprs or romantic relationships.

Also I’d like to say I know nothing about music or dance so sorry if those bits of the story don’t make sense or if their dances are really ugly.

I own none of the dances in this story. The first one is the Dancing Dragon from the cartoon and the last two are inspired by “the beginning of a new and brighter birth” by aloneintherain on Ao3.

You can also read this fic on Ao3 and FFN.

=============

Part 1

It all began at Katara and Aang’s wedding. 

It was a nice wedding, it really was, and Zuko was happy for his friends but did they really have to invite so many people? Aang and Katara had a lot of friends all over the world but half these people Zuko had never even met. He was pretty sure they were all political officials. He supposed he couldn’t really complain, the Avatar’s marriage was a pretty big event for all four nations, but it was stifling to have so many people in one space, however open.

He supposed the one advantage was that no one could see if he was dancing or not.

The ceremony was lovely and Zuko meant that genuinely. Aang and Katara had danced afterward in a beautiful mix of Water Tribe and Air Nomad styles and now the floor was open to the guests. There was a live band of… Zuko wanted to say they were Air Acolytes but they may have been one of King Kuei’s bands from Ba Sing Se. Or maybe it was both. It was probably both considering they were playing a plethora of tunes from different nations and regions. Everyone seemed pretty pleased by the music selection and had taken to the dance floor with their partners.

Zuko was hiding in the corner with Mai and Ty Lee.

Zuko knew as the Fire Lord he would be expected to dance at some point. Not by Aang and Katara, they’d never do that to him, but there were so many strangers here and there was probably some important person here who would start whispers that the Fire Lord had insulted the Avatar by not dancing at his wedding and they needed to start war preparations again. Zuko didn’t know anything about weddings but he was pretty sure that was a thing. Probably. Maybe. And for peace’s sake, he’d dance. Probably. Maybe.

It was just that he didn’t want to? It wasn’t even entirely because he didn’t know how to. He didn’t really have any problems with dancing. He’d dabbled in some of the cultural restoration efforts that involved dancing directly. It just didn’t seem appealing in the slightest. Earth Kingdom officials and royalty were swaying their partners, Water Tribesmen were spinning each other around, and Air Acolytes were leaning against each other, all in tune to the gentle melody. It was nice but he and Mai just weren’t like that.

“Come on,” Ty Lee complained for the umpteenth time, tugging on their hands. “You have to come dance!”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Mai responded, leaning even further into Zuko as if to prove a point. Zuko didn’t complain.

Ty Lee frowned, her grip on both of them slackening a bit. “What’s wrong with dancing? I mean, I know the Fire Nation never really allowed dancing much but we used to do it all the time at home. And in the circus! It’s fun.”

“This looks like the farthest thing from fun,” Zuko commented and gestured vaguely at the mass of men and women before them. “It’s all so… slow. And romantic.”

“And boring,” Mai added helpfully.

“And boring,” Zuko agreed.

Ty Lee pouted for a moment before a look of excitement flashed across her face. “Wait here. I’ve got an idea.”

She was gone before Zuko could protest. Zuko reached out with his newly freed hand and called after her but she’d already vanished into the crowd of people. He frowned a bit and slumped against the pillar he and Mai were hiding by. He didn’t really want to dance but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be around Ty Lee. She was a constant presence in his life these days and it felt odd to not have her around, even with Mai there.

“Should we go after her?” Mai asked, plucking an hors d'oeuvres off a passing server’s tray to pop into her mouth. She immediately made a face. “Ew. Vegetables. They’re not even cooked.”

“Air Nomads are vegetarian,” Zuko reminded her softly, though he probably didn’t need to. His brow furrowed a bit as he glanced back at the crowd, worried. Should they look for Ty Lee? She’d told them to wait here so maybe she would be back. How long was too long? She wasn’t in danger or anything but-

Zuko didn’t have the chance to finish his thought. Ty Lee barreled past them with the speed of a cat mongoose and the power of an elephant gorilla. She snatched up both of their hands, catching them both off guard, and dragged them both across the venue toward the dance floor.

Zuko stumbled a bit but found his footing quickly and made a noise of surprise. “Ty Lee!”

“Was this your master plan?” Mai said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, when they came to a stop and Ty Lee freed them of her grip. “To grab us when we weren’t paying attention?”

“No, silly,” Ty Lee giggled. “This was my plan.”

Nothing happened for a moment, prompting Mai and Zuko to look around in confusion. They were just kind of standing in the middle of the crowd, people dancing around them. Slowly, the song came to an end and Zuko opened his mouth to ask Ty Lee what was happening but was distracted by the most strange noise.

It was a tsungi horn, he knew that much after having played for years, but he’d never heard it make a noise like the one the band was drawing out of it. It was… hard. Not soft like most music was. And the horn’s toots were coming out sharp and abruptly, accompanied by the melody of some kind of flute. Combined with drums, some stringed devices, and some other instruments Zuko didn’t recognize, they made the strangest tune Zuko had ever heard.

“What is this?” Zuko asked, looking at Ty Lee. “And what are you doing with you hands?”

“I’m dancing!” Ty Lee said with a beaming smile. She put her hands up in the air and twirled herself around as if to prove a point. “I thought you might like this music more.”

“I don’t know if this is music,” Zuko responded with uncertainty as Ty Lee began wiggling her shoulders, “and I’m not sure if what you’re doing is dancing.”

“Isn’t music usually slower?” Mai said as she watched the people around them become inactive. Some were moving like Ty Lee, seemingly happy with the change, but most of them seemed as confused as Zuko. “Don’t you usually, I don’t know, hold your partner and shuffle around?”

“No, silly,” Ty Lee replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You don’t have to dance with a partner! That’s just the fancy stuff. Most people just dance with their friends.”

“With their friends?”

“For fun!”

“For… fun?”

“I’ll show you,” Ty Lee said cheerfully and took both their hands. She pulled on them, more gently this time, and kept moving her body. Zuko and Mai exchanged a glance, unsure what to do, but shrugged and decided to indulge their friend. Ty Lee was moving fluidly but it didn’t have any structure to it like most dances Zuko knew of. She was just… rolling in tune with the music. It was a few minutes that Zuko realized the rhythm had traveled down her arms to their joined hands and he was mimicking her movements. Ty Lee looked thrilled. “That’s the spirit!”

“This is… not horrible,” Mai said as she allowed her free arm to join in the other half of her body. Without Ty Lee’s influence, her movements were a bit more awkward but it didn’t look totally ridiculous. Ty Lee looked equally excited by her efforts and began shaking her arms around with a bit more energy than she had before.

“I thought you’d like this more,” Ty Lee said, her voice a bit quieter. Zuko’s heart softened a bit when he noticed the nervousness fading off her face. He usually brushed off her exuberance but she really wanted them to have a good time. Affection for his friend welled up inside of him. “I don’t really like slow music myself. I don’t want to slow dance with some random guy. I’d much rather dance with you two.”

“What’s different about this music?” Zuko asked, trying to warm up his body a bit so he looked less like a flailing pig chicken. “How come everyone’s dancing differently now?”

“Fast music is more freeing,” Ty Lee said without a tone of doubt and lifted up both her arms so Zuko and Mai could spin her around. She leaned back dramatically, trusting them not to let her fall. “There aren’t any steps and you don’t have to worry about stepping on anyone’s feet and you don’t have to worry about who you’re with. You can just let the music take over and let your body move.”

Zuko smiled a bit as Ty Lee bounced back up from her dip. He’d never seen three people dance like this with their hands joined but Ty Lee was somehow rocking it despite his and Mai’s hesitation. He’d gladly accept some discomfort for her.

“Looks fun!” a familiar voice said, breaking the awkward jig the three of them shared, and Sokka was suddenly on Zuko’s back. “Can we join?”

“Get off,” Zuko complained good naturedly and shrugged Sokka off him, the other man careful not to accidentally choke the Fire Lord while unhooking his arms from their place around his neck and shoulders. Sokka grinned at him bashfully and Zuko noticed Suki not far behind him. “You two know how to dance?”

“Sure!” Sokka replied. “The Fire Lord’s advisor and guard go to a lot of fancy events, don’t we? We know all kinds of dances!”

“I don’t think what you do counts as dancing,” Suki commented, looking amused. Sokka stuck her tongue out at her and began dancing with a look in his eye telling the world he was ready to prove her wrong.

Sokka’s dance was… different from Ty Lee’s. He moved his whole body, shoulders to hips, in a rippling motion like a wave was going through him. It looked odd. Zuko wondered if it was a Water Tribe thing but judging by the Water Tribe spectators’ stares, it was not.

“You look stupid,” Toph said, pushing past a group of young Earth Kingdom governors who were dancing nearby. By Agni, they were dancing so much better than Sokka. “My feet could see it all the way across the room.”

“We’re outside,” Sokka responded but didn’t let her snipes kill his spirit. In fact, it seemed to only encourage him and his arms joined in. “Come on, guys! Don’t leave me hanging.”

Ty Lee took up his offer in a heartbeat, letting go of Mai and Zuko’s hands, and began dancing in a similar fashion, though she looked far better doing it. Zuko shared a look with Mai and Suki before joining. Mai and Zuko were a bit slow and awkward but Suki didn’t say anything and matched their energy without hesitation.

The music picked up a bit and even Toph joined in, though her movements looked a bit too much like earthbending forms for Zuko to feel safe calling it dancing. The others certainly noticed because Sokka and Ty Lee exchanged a glance and began mimicking water and firebending moves. They were far from accurate, much flashier and they lacked power, but Zuko had to admit the fluidity and spunk they performed them with made them look like real dance moves.

“I now understand why Katara used to be so obsessed with doing this stuff,” Sokka said as he wiggled his arms like a current before swooshing them to one side. Zuko was pretty sure that wasn’t a real waterbending move but Sokka looked too happy for him to care.

Ty Lee gave a few punches before shifting her feet into the footing of a firebender and arching her hands up and spinning around. “I wish I was a firebender. It would be so fun to dance while firebending! Ooh, I wish I had fire like Zuko! Imagine how pretty it would be to dance with rainbow fire swirling around you!”

Zuko opened his mouth to explain that wasn’t how it works but was interrupted by Toph.

“Aang and Katara are coming over,” Toph announced after a bit as the dancers around them parted a bit for the bride and groom.

“Damn right we are,” Aang said good naturedly. He and Katara had changed out of their wedding attire and into something simpler and loose-fitting. “You guys are dancing without us?”

“Maybe!” Ty Lee responded cheekily. “I was just saying how cool it would be to dance with rainbow fire like Zuko’s!”

“Oh that would be cool!” Aang said, eyes lighting up. “Zuko, you should do it!”

“First of all, it’s not rainbow fire. It’s just multicolored.”

“Rainbow,” Sokka said through a cough.

“-And second, I don’t know how to dance, let alone with firebending.”

“What do you mean you don’t know how to dance? We learned the Dancing Dragon together!” Aang exploded without even a pause. He gasped loudly. “We should do the Dancing Dragon together! Katara, can I do the Dancing Dragon with Zuko?”

“You don’t need my permission,” she said with a smile and a step back. “Knock yourself out.”

“Not literally,” Suki piped up, feeling the need to clarify which was probably a good idea in front of someone as knuckleheaded as Aang.

Zuko swallowed nervously and glanced at his friends. Mai shot him a smirk while Ty Lee gushed out her excitement. Sokka just gave him a thumbs up and the next thing Zuko knew, he was standing beside Aang.

They started on one foot, arms spread apart and palms facing the sky. Zuko could feel the sun’s warm rays spark something deep inside him. He took a deep breath and took a step away from Aang.

Both of them shifted into a lunge, pivoting quickly in a circle. With their breathes, ribbons of colorful fire came to life, twisting around their arms with each step. Zuko flet them licking his bare arms as his sleeves rode up with the steps but the fire didn’t burn.

Then came a sharp punch and a wide sweep of the arms. The fire followed the motion and rolled off him like a wave. The heat was oddly comforting on his tight shoulders.

A final thrust of the hand and the two met at the end of the circle, arching sideways to let their fists touch. Colorful fire burst from the contact, briefly engulfing them both before dying down with a few well controlled breaths from either side.

Zuko hadn’t even noticed the spectators until the clapping began.

He jerked upright in a motion unbecoming of a Fire Lord and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. When had all these people gathered around? Had he really gotten that caught up in the dance? It was so easy to lose himself in his firebending.

People from all nations were applauding, even Fire Nation natives. They were a bit slower but the twist of distaste was merely an echo on their faces. They seemed proud. It was oddly validating, though Zuko didn’t want it to be. Maybe this was a good thing.

Aang was suddenly hugging him. “That was awesome! We need to do that more.”

Zuko couldn’t help but smile. “We do. We really do.”

Part 2

“I’m bored.”

“I know.”

“Let’s do something.”

“I’m working.”

“So?”

It was about a month after the wedding and life in the Fire Nation had returned to normal at the palace. Zuko was far less busy than he was when the war initially ended but he and all his friends were still pretty busy. Over the past few years, more and more of his companions had taken jobs with him in Caldera City. Suki and Ty Lee were here because the Kyoshi Warriors now served as guards to the throne, Mai was here because Zuko and Ty Lee were here but her sharp mind for politics quickly landed her a position as advisor, and Sokka had taken the role of Southern Water Tribe Ambassador before deciding he liked it here and took a more permanent position at Zuko’s side.

Zuko liked having his friends around but also that meant he didn’t get nearly as much work done. They were fantastic but they were equally distracting. 

At the moment, Mai was leaning against the doorframe of Zuko’s office. To be honest, she kind of reminded Zuko of an outdoor cat-owl, drifting in and out as she pleased. It was a nice change from Ty Lee’s happy polar bear dog personality, Sokka’s badger falcon-like drive when he wanted attention, or Suki’s… speaking of which, where were they? He’d just spent nearly two hours working uninterrupted. Normally one of them would’ve come to bother him by now.

Sighing, Zuko rose from his seat. “Fine. Did you have anything in mind?”

Expectedly, Mai just shrugged.

“Let’s go find the others,” Zuko decided and Mai didn’t protest.

Dramatically, Zuko offered her his arm like a lord would to a court lady. Mai just snorted and flicked him in the side of the head. Zuko laughed and the two began floating down the palace’s halls at a leisurely pace. Both were familiar with it from their childhoods but it had changed a lot since that brief time they returned during the war. With Azula and Ozai gone and new friends in their place, it felt much more like home. Still, sometimes it was nice to walk down these red clad halls and remember the good times, however rare they were.

They found their way to the courtyard. It wasn’t the same one with the fountain Mai and Zuko had fallen into as children nor was it the one that Zuko had spent countless hours feeding turtle ducks. No, this one was marked by memories of sparring. Not with Azula though, with Sokka and his sword, Suki and her fans, and Ty Lee with her acrobatics. And now, apparently, with dancing.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asked as he and Mai came to a halt at the entrance. “Is that one of Aang’s staffs?”

“Yup!” Ty Lee said and swung the staff around to demonstrate, forcing Sokka and Suki to duck to avoid being boxed in the head. “Ooh! Mai! We were just going to come looking for you. We need your knives.”

Mai already had them out. “What for?”

“So you know how it was super fun dancing at Aang and Katara’s wedding?” Sokka asked, toying with his boomerang absently. Zuko suddenly noticed Suki had her fans out too. What were they doing with weapons? And why did they need so many? “We were just talking about it and Ty Lee mentioned she got her hands on some scrolls awhile back with some dances so we decided to look through them and give ‘em a shot.”

“And what do you need me for?”

“I found this dance the Avatar used to do with his teachers,” Ty Lee explained, grabbing Zuko’s interest. “It’s this dance that combines all the elements. It looks really fun so we’re trying it!”

“Wait, then wouldn’t you need me for that?” Zuko asked, confused. “Since, y’know, I’m the Avatar’s firebending teacher?”

Ty Lee giggled. “No, silly. We’ve only got firebenders in the palace. You can’t do a dance with four elements if you just have fire.”

“Which is why we decided to try it with weapons instead,” Suki said, flipping her fans around. She shot Zuko a teasing look. “See, nonbenders can do everything just as well as benders can.”

Zuko matched her look, not missing a beat. “You know I use swords, right?”

“Oh hush.” Ty Lee shuffled him off to the side and rolled out the scroll for Mai to look at. “See, look. Everyone kind of does the same dance but everyone represents their own nation. They bend their own element in their own style but then when the music changes, they switch to another style.”

“So that’s why you have Aang’s staff? We’re going to represent each element with weapons instead?”

“Yup! The only problem is that we don’t have any music.”

“We’ve got that covered,” Sokka said and shot Zuko a look the firebender couldn’t quite catch the meaning of. Zuko stared back and tipped his head slightly, confused, before he noticed Suki pushing something across the courtyard. 

“Where did you get that?” he spluttered in surprise. “How did you get that? And who told you about that?!”

“Your uncle,” Suki purred in a teasing tone. She leaned on the instrument casually, careful not to put too much weight on it, and smiled with the same look on her features that Sokka had. Zuko suddenly understood it’s meaning. “Last time we visited him, he said you’re good on the tsungi horn. When we got back, I just had to find one.” 

“No, no, no. No.”

“Yes.”

“No…”

“Yes…”

“Come on, Zuko.” Ty Lee looked up at Zuko, hands clasped behind her back, with the most endearing look on her face she could muster. “Please? It’ll be fun!”

Zuko felt himself caving. By Agni, he was so weak. “Fine…”

“Yay!” Ty Lee sprang up and clapped happily while Sokka and Suki whooped and clapped their hands in victory. Zuko found himself smiling. He could stomach some embarrassment to make them happy for a little while. 

He tried not to sigh as he settled down on the stool next to the tsungi horn and prepared to play. It had been a long time but the feeling was familiar and the tune came to him easily. Plus, he was a much better firebender than he had back when he’d played for his crew on the ship so he could hold his breaths much longer and steadier. It wasn’t perfect but it passed as music and that was enough for Zuko.

He played a tune his mother had taught him. She’d been a beautiful singer, he remembered. Noren had told her she loved musicals back when the two performed together. Zuko hadn’t particularly liked her musical instruction as a child but now he looked back and wished he’d been a bit more keen to spend those moments with his mother. Music was one of the few connections she had to her time in theatre and those hours spent with Zuko were her way of showing him her old life without revealing the truth.

He should visit her soon. He wouldn’t bring a tsungi horn but maybe he could teach Kiyi some of his mother’s favorite songs, if she didn’t know them already.

Her favorites were always romantics. Ballroom dances for young lovers, songs from dramas telling the tale of two lovers, melodies to play in the background of celebrations- He understood why but none of them felt appropriate for the moment. He wished he knew more songs. Those songs were all he knew so his choices were limited. Still, he played.

Ty Lee, Sokka, Mai, and Suki began dancing. They were slow, getting a feel for the dance. Occasionally, their eyes would flicker back to the scroll. They couldn’t read it from that distance but Zuko could see the heistance on their faces. None of them were dancers, except maybe Ty Lee, but they were warriors so with weapons in hand, they didn’t hesitate for long.

Zuko had long suspected Ty Lee had some Air Nomad heritage with her grey eyes and flighty movements. Right now, holding Aang’s glider, he had no doubt. She was light on her feet, toes barely skimming the ground as she leapt. She didn’t seem terribly familiar with the glider and she treated it more like a bo staff than anything else but she quickly found the opening mechanism and soon the glider was paralleling her airy motions.

Sokka was normally a truly horrible dancer but he always danced with boldness. That didn’t waver with a boomerang in hand but right now, he looked a lot more confident and peaceful than Zuko had ever seen on the dance floor. His movements were fluid, his boomerang spinning out of his hand with an easy flick of his wrist. He turned and caught it with his other hand like he was born to do it.

Suki always fought with sharp, aggressive movements and this dance highlighted that part of her training. Her golden fans gleamed in the sunlight and her heavy steps kicked up dust. Where Sokka’s arms were loose, hers were tense as she jutted her fan out in a way that would slice an enemy’s throat clean open. Zuko thought she never looked more beautiful. 

Mai had even less time to prepare than the others but she looked just as stunning. Her knives flipped through her fingers with lightning speed as she shifted into new stances, punching her arms out as if driving her knives into an imaginary foe. Her feet moved with the steadiness and skill of a firebender, never losing her balance, as she weaved around the others in perfect harmony.

It was kind of hard to watch them all while he was so focused on his song. They danced in a circle, mostly not bumping into each other. Zuko guessed the Avatar would normally be in the middle but they looked perfect with just the four of them representing the Avatar cycle. Their brows were furrowed in concentration but they looked like they were having fun and Zuko suddenly realized how inappropriate this song was for something like this.

What was it that Ty Lee had said at Katara and Aang’s wedding? By Agni, that felt like a long time ago. Fast music was freeing. Slow music was romantic but fast music was supposed to be fun. Something you could dance to with your friends.

The Fire Nation had never been a country of creatives, not now and not in Zuko’s youth. They were always traditional and taught their young to stick to those traditions flawlessly. But now, in this moment watching his friends float together in such a wondrous way, Zuko felt the overwhelming urge to deviate from tradition and make the song his own.

The spark of creativity pushed him to take shorter breaths. The tune came out louder and the notes were faster. His feet moved, adding the soft sound of his boots hitting the earth in rhythm with the song. It drifted away from a slow romance to something livelier and more spirited.

His friends seemed confused by the change in music but didn’t let it stop them. They shifted their stances, somewhat surprising their musician. Ty Lee had said earlier that the benders in the dance would change their style. Zuko wasn’t really sure what she meant by that but he was glad he hadn’t messed up their dance by changing his manner of playing.

Ty Lee became less bouncy and more flowy. She stopped skipping around and kept her feet on the ground. She snapped the glider open and began twisting it overhead, letting it ride the air like a boat on the ocean’s waves. Her muscles seem more relaxed and she let the music guide her.

Sokka’s movements became more rooted. He stopped throwing his boomerang, instead wielding it more like an axe. He stomped, like Suki had before though he wasn’t as aggressive as her. He was passionate, like a Water Tribe warrior, rather than fierce like a Kyoshi Warrior.

Suki’s dancing gained more of an edge. Swipes and stomps were replaced by kicks and punches. Equally powerful blows, just different. She closed her fans, wielding them more like blades before snapping them open to arch widely over her head, and lashed out with sweeping kicks.

It was strange seeing Mai move like Ty Lee but it suited her. She shifted onto one foot, balancing carefully, and she waved her knives. They still looked just as deadly as she jutted them out but the motions leading up to them were a lot more relaxed and less conformed. 

Smiles had appeared on their faces, making that flitter of nervousness in Zuko’s chest melt away. He hadn’t even noticed it was there until it was gone. Knowing that he was doing something right, Zuko put more of himself into the tune.

Ty Lee’s feet fit the ground, hard and flat. She let her arms spread far apart, muscles rippling in a way Zuko rarely saw. The glider, for the first time, looked like a true weapon. It closed and began moving erratically with each step its wielder took, like it was ready to box someone’s nose in. 

Sokka seemed to swell up like a flame as he became more explosive. He wielded his boomerang like an extension of himself, flipping it quickly between his hands. His feet slid across the surface of the ground, leaving slick prints in the sandy earth, while he swung his arms with the power and grace of a komodo flamingo.

Suki became more nimble and she waved her fans the way a court lady might to cool herself rather than like a sharp edged weapon. For the first time in the whole dance, she leapt and let her feet leave the floor. It was almost like she was skipping on chunks of earth, which she had done before with how much Toph liked flinging things around with her earthbending. Mai began flipping her knives again but this time it flowed through the air alongside her movements rather than sliced. She toed the ground seamlessly, steady in her motions, and seemed to drift alongside the others like a piece of wood in the sea.

If they were benders, this probably would’ve been harder for them. They were dancing in the styles of their opposite elements: Ty Lee like an Earth Kingdom native, Sokka like a Fire Nation man, Suki like an Air Nomad, and Mai like a Water Tribe warrior. Inexperienced and a bit unsure of themselves, they were still a bit awkward but no more than they were in the previous element of the cycle. It was still balanced and even in a way that benders could never hope to achieve. Something could be learned from this but Zuko didn’t dwell on it. It was time to change the music again.

Zuko tried to focus on the harmony he saw before him. His beloved friends, the four people he loved more than anyone or anything in this world, were representing the four elements as one. Truly, it was beautiful and brought warm feelings to his chest. He didn’t have the skill to wander from his roots and lessons too much but he took a few liberties and tried playing in a more foreign style, mixing in notes he knew traditionally came from other nations’ songs.

Ty Lee took to a Fire Nation style easily, swinging the glider like glades and crouching into elegant yet deadly poses. It looked kind of odd to see someone normally so sweet poised in such a manner but it suited her well. Her grip on the staff changed and she let the wings flare at the peak of each jab.

Sokka’s leaps weren’t nearly as graceful as the others with his heavier, stockier build. He let his boomerang fly far with each jump and landed neatly each time, never failing to catch his beloved weapon. 

Suki waved her fans, open this time, in a way mimicking the current. She spread her arms wide, fan in each hand, and walked backwards, synced with the rhythm. She never tripped, trusting the flow of the others to guide her.

The heels of Mai’s shoes left deep imprints in the ground with each step she took. The aggression of this new gait suited her. She was always cunning and she really seemed to be owning it right now. She fisted her knives, thrusting her hands down in unison with her feet, and showed off the power in her body that she rarely had the chance to display.

Zuko slowed down a bit, the tsungi horn’s noise becoming softer and quieter. It wasn’t slow or sluggish but it was still steady and strong. His friends changed their style for the final time. Ty Lee once again became light and airy, Sokka became fluid and flowy, Suki became bold and aggressive, and Mai became sharp and ruthless. They’d returned to normal but they’d proven normal wasn’t all they are.

The song ended and Zuko lifted his mouth from the instrument to take a gasp of air, letting glorious oxygen fill his lungs. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go for that long, even with the lung capacity of a firebender, but it was worth it to see the dance come to an end and his friends break their formation to cheer and hug each other.

“How’d we do?” Sokka asked, turning to Zuko. He padded over to him and sat on the ground in front of him. Zuko suddenly noticed how out of breath he was and that his sweat had plastered his clothes to his skin. Who knew dancing could be so tiresome? Not Zuko. “I know I slipped up a few times there but I feel really good about it!”

“You guys did well,” Zuko said, matching the other man’s smile, and he meant it. Yeah, none of them were dancers. Their dancing wasn’t elegant and it wasn’t smooth and they looked lost sometimes but in Zuko’s eyes, they were perfect. “You adapted that dance so well. It’s hard imagining what the original was supposed to look like.”

“I think the scroll said it was supposed to represent balance,” Ty Lee said, looking around for the discarded scroll. Suki found it first and picked it up for her. Ty Lee blinked gratefully and took it from her. “I bet it looks really pretty with all the fire and the water and the earth and the air and everything all mixed together!”

“It looked, um, pretty with the weapons,” Zuko told her, stumbling over his words a bit. He wasn’t used to complimenting people but sitting here with so much affection in his heart, he couldn’t bear to hold back. They deserved to know. “Maybe even better. I know the nations are usually remembered for their bending but I think it’s important to remember nonbenders are just as important. It really shows you guys understand the different countries if you can change the way you use your weapons.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sokka said boastfully. He shuffled on the ground a bit so he was leaning against Zuko’s knees. Zuko let his hands rest in Sokka’s hair. “Man, wait until Aang sees this! Who needs the Avatar when you’ve got us!”

Suki and Ty Lee laughed while Mai smirked. She looked a bit thoughtful. “Maybe it would be beneficial for the four nations to see a dance like this. With bending. Maybe we should revisit the Fire Nation Dance Restoration Movement.”

“Really?” Zuko exclaimed, jostling Sokka slightly as his back straightened. “You of all people are interested in dance?”

Mai shrugged. “You think it’s a bad idea?”

“No. I’m just surprised. I thought you didn’t like dancing.”

“I don’t,” Mai responded and sat down beside Sokka. “I just think… The dance is really beautiful. And I think it would be a lot more beautiful of the people who were actually meant to do it used it for its intended purpose.”

“And if those people weren’t a bunch of amateurs,” Suki added, getting down to her level so she could knock shoulders with her. She reached out with one arm and knocked Zuko’s stool out from under him, making him fall with a yelp. “You better get on that, Fire Lord!”

Ty Lee caught him before he could hit the ground. “Don’t bully him into making him do stuff for him!”

“Yeah. Don’t bully me!”

“Being nice is a much better way to get him to do what you want.”

“Hey!” Zuko complained but didn’t protest when Ty Lee plopped him down next to Sokka and threw herself onto their laps.

“It’s true,” Sokka said, shifting so his knees didn’t dig into Ty Lee’s back. She’d done this before, they were all used to it and even welcomed it at this point. Maybe she was the most catlike of the group. Mai never did anything like this. “You let all four of us get away with everything.”

“Better not let your enemies know your weakness!” Suki cracked, playing with Ty Lee’s hair absently.

“Yeah, well, if any of my enemies find out my weakness, they have to get through you guys before using it on me.”

“Touché.” 

“Do you think the other nations were like this once?” Ty Lee asked, reaching up to poke Mai in the cheek. She didn’t look amused but the quirk of her lips betrayed her. “Like us, I mean. Right now.”

“Maybe,” Mai responded. “I hope so. This is nice.”

“It is,” Zuko agreed. He looked around at his friends, all curled up together, and knew he’d savor this moment forever. “It really is.”

Part 3

When Zuko had played the tsungi horn and watched Mai, Ty Lee, Sokka, and Suki dance, he’d thought they’d looked beautiful.

How could he not? He loved them and he’d always think they were beautiful regardless of how practiced their dancing was or how much they slipped up. But what had stood out to him was how they’d mastered the Avatar’s Cycle dance. Even as nonbenders, they’d captured it’s true essence. The dance was about balance and taking another nation’s style and making it your own and they’d executed it brilliantly.

But as much as Zuko respected their spontaneity and adaptations, it really didn’t compare to the real deal.

They had to still change a few things of course. Aang’s airbending teacher wasn’t present and Aang didn’t really want the dance to focus on the role of the Avatar which meant it was just the four of them dancing in a ring like their nonbending friends had.

Ty Lee and Sokka had looked so excited when they proposed the festival to Zuko and Aang. That was months ago and finally it was all coming together. Mai, Ty Lee, Sokka, and Suki had put so much time into organizing this event and Zuko, Aang, Katara, and Toph had spent so much time perfecting this dance. Now it was time for the nations to see the fruits of their labor.

The festival was held in one of the former Fire Nation colonies on the Earth Kingdom mainland. It was a neutral ground that welcomed visitors from all three countries. Zuko had been nervous people weren’t going to want to travel all this way but right now, looking out at the crowd gathered around the stage, he wondered how he ever could’ve believed such a thing.

Aang stepped out of the shadows first, addressing the audience in his usual, endearing way. He joked a bit, got a few laughs, before sobering up and properly addressing them. “As you guys know, we’ve been trying really hard to restore some of the dances the Fire Nation had in my time but today I’d like to share another dance. One not claimed by any nation. It’s called the Avatar’s Cycle and I’ll need my teachers for that.”

That was their cue to move. Toph didn’t hesitate and stepped up to join Aang in a heartbeat. Zuko and Katara lingered a moment longer, exchanging a glance of mutual reassurance, and followed her to their places.

The music began and they began to move.

Zuko started with firebending forms. They were adapted a bit to seem more rhythmic and visually appealing but they still worked. Flames sprung to life around him, just as he sensed the others’ elements join them, as he took a big step and let himself be swept into the cycle.

A long time ago, rage was the fuel for his fire. Now it was passion. Love, respect, and understanding. That was what the dragons had taught him and what he’d carried with him all these years. Every day he felt the sun rise, anytime he felt a candle light flicker, anytime he saw the spark of life in someone he cared about, every breath he took- These things were his universal truths.

These truths made his fire bloom with beautiful colors as he lashed out in fierce punches and kicks. That couldn’t be helped, firebenders were quick to fight by nature. The breath was what was important though. With steady exhales, Zuko’s flames spiraled and twisted around him, occasionally mingling with Toph’s earth and Aang’s air on either side of him, as he danced. The burning was intense but not hostile. It found tranquility alongside the other elements. Zuko hoped the spectators would understand how meaningful the colors of his flames and its unity with the rest of the cycle was.

The Fire Nation was so angry and that anger was paralleled in their flames. Zuko was once like them, maybe angrier, but now it just seemed so distant. Joy filled his punches and the sweeps of his leg, not rage. The music guided his steps, not hate. His fire was still as strong as any of theirs, maybe stronger.

The music shifted and so did the four benders. Fire became air, air became water, water became earth, earth became fire- Though not literally. Zuko was still bending fire but he was firebending like an airbender.

He tried to think of freedom. He focused on the music and tried to let his mind go blank. It was hard for someone with roots so deep in the Fire Nation to forget tradition and conformity and let go but the music helped. It was fast and upbeat, easy to move to.

Zuko’s fire became a little less controlled as his feet began to touch the ground less. The fire moved alongside him rather than because of him and he let it come a little bit closer to his body than he usually did. He knew he wasn’t going to burn himself so he let the fire do as it pleased.

He took deeper breaths. He could feel his inner flame grow and shrink with each one. The tendrils of fire matched his breaths, swelling and deflating like it was alive as well. It probably was. Fire was just an extension of himself, after all. A part of him not limited to a physical form.

The next element in the cycle didn’t come easily to any of the benders, except Aang but that wasn’t surprising. Fire was supposed to be sharp, heated, and brilliant. Water was rounded, mysterious, and relaxed. But both elements had a hunger and wildness to them that couldn’t be satiated and those similarities were easy to draw on. 

Zuko’s movements became more fluid as he mimicked waterbending forms. His fire wobbled a bit but not nearly as much as Katara’s water or Toph’s earth. Uncle’s lessons in learning from the other elements had done Zuko well. He tried to recall the steps in redirecting lightning, taking control of the chi flowing directly through his body. His fire began moving in the same pattern. Instead of surrounding his hands, it trickled like a stream downward before he pulled it back to trickle down again.

Water was one of Zuko’s favorite elements. Not in his youth, of course, but he’d grown to appreciate it over the years. It was steady like earth but also adaptable like air yet it still had some of fire’s spirit. Waterbenders could heal but they could also turn water into jagged, frozen weapons. The diversity and variety was astounding. It’s potential to help or hurt and the delicate balance of its nature made it beautiful in Zuko’s eyes.

He tried to think of change. How he’d changed. Once young and innocent, then young and angry, now aging and filled with adoration for his friends and for his people. The fire followed his hands, flowing like his chi inside of him, and rippled like the surface of the sea.

This was the hardest part of the dance and all four dancers had to slow a bit. The cycle continued but the buzz of concentration surrounded them as they used forms their element was not built for. Then came the next element and ease washed over them once again.

Zuko had to admit he understood why Toph loved throwing rocks around so much. It was fun to stomp and roar and throw weight around. Zuko’s fire seemed to think so too. It seemed to flake off him, embers sparking each time his foot hit the ground and spraying from his hands with each thrust.

Earth was supportive and grounding. Zuko tried to think of the people who had inspired those kinds of feelings for him. His uncle, the Gaang, his friends, his advisors, his mother... Just the thought of them made him feel full. His fire filled out a bit more and, still spitting embers, followed his heavy steps without fault.

They reformed to their initial styles of bending as the song began winding down. The fire sprang back to life a bit more as Zuko’s movements became familiar and seemed to burn a bit brighter. Everyone else seemed happy to regain full control of their elements and they stepped through the last motions of the dance.

The four benders struck a final pose, each breathing hard, and the crowd exploded into applause.

Zuko, Katara, and Toph stepped back to let Aang address the nations. Beforehand, Aang had asked if Zuko wanted to say anything as the Fire Lord but Zuko was happy to leave the speeches to the Avatar.

“This dance once symbolized the unity between the four nations and the friendship we share,” Aang explained once the clapping died down. “I think that’s important more now than ever which is why my friends and I wanted to share this dance with you. The war is over but there are still barriers between us. In my time, music and dance went beyond borders and I hope today’s festival can teach all of you what I’ve always known deep in my heart.”

The crowd cheered again and Aang turned to his friends with a look like a weight had been taken off his back. Katara embraced him. “You guys did great!”

“Can’t compare to the masters’ though,” Sokka called from where he was sitting in the back with Suki, Mai, and Ty Lee. He slung his arms over his shoulders and shot Aang a cheeky grin. “Nonbender gaang rules!”

Aang laughed. “Do you guys want to get out there and show some nonbenders your moves?”

He immediately blanched. “No way.”

Ty Lee giggled at his reaction. “How about you four? You guys going to get out there and teach some people how to dance?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m sitting down and taking a nap,” Aang declared. “Scoot over.”

Suki and Sokka laughed as Aang tried to push them down on the bench. Katara sighed and shook her head while Toph joined in, pushing Ty Lee and Mai on the other side. Zuko couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe we should find a better place to rest than the stage? I think we planned on some of the bands playing from up here.”

“Ugh, fine,” Toph said, giving up much to Mai’s appreciation. “Lead the way, Fire Lord.”

“Gladly,” Zuko responded with a chuckle and dragged the others off the background of stage, despite their whines and groans. It’d been a good day for the nations and hopefully it’d get even better but for now, he just wanted to spend the afternoon relaxing with his friends.

========

Author’s Note: I know the nonbenders should have performed as well but I didn’t want to be repetitive. Hope you enjoyed.

More AroWriMo stories by me here.

[nxtatsarinaindistress]

How about Zuki’s first kiss and/or date for a prompt? :)

AAAAAAAAH a thank you so much anon for this prompt I literally screamed writing this because look at them!!! The softest of the softest.

Also I’m so sorry for this being so late but university is taking all of my attention rn. Anyway, hope you like this as much as I did.

The first kiss.

He was hells over the head in love with her but he didn’t know if she loved him back and that was killing him. He realized he fall for her around last year.

At the beginning Zuko was still very in love with Mai. Or at least that’s what he thought. When they broke up and she was dating Kei Lo, he… well he basically thought he was going to be sad for the rest of his life. But that wasn’t true. All those times in which he was really sad and moody, Suki was there for him. Cheering him up, joking about him being the first fire lord without a fire lady. And for his surprised, he laughed at her jokes. He liked being with her.

She was his best friend, his confident and the only one that actually understood him. Her support on those first years literally meant everything to him. And then it was his turn to be there for her. Even though her rupture with Sokka wasn’t as complicated as his, he wanted to be there for her.

Every night he would leave some chocolate mochis in her bedroom and her favorite flowers. He wasn’t as good as her with the jokes or even the words but he was good with details. And he hoped it made her smile even a little.

One time, Suki found him leaving the mochis so she asked him to stay. They sat in the balcony, drinking tea and eating those mochis talking about anything and everything.

“Today you have green eyes.” He abruptly said without not even thinking twice.

“Hm?” Suki asked and Zuko blushed.

“I mean...your eyes tend to change.”

“Oh! Yes! But I can’t believe you realized.”

“Yes...I mean, they are very pretty and I..mm...I like them.”

Suki leaned against him and kissed his check. “Thank you.” And in that moment Zuko didn’t know how to proceed. He was all red, with a silly smile in his lips.

“Su-sure.”

You could say that it was that moment when he realized he wanted to spent every night like that for the rest of his life.

A year later, he finally accepted that yes, he was in love with the Kyoshi warrior.

Over the course of that year, Zuko had to deal with tons of lords asking him to dinner so he could met their daughters. Of course, the fire lord was still single and all of those lords thought it was a good idea to do those dinners. Suki joked that she was going away the moment he was getting married because one thing was taking care of him, another was taking care of his bride. He smiled but the truth was that she was the only one he could actually think of marrying.

One good day. They were sparing like they always did but there was something different that day. Zuko couldn’t understand what was going on but Suki’s smile were….no, he must had been inviting things.

“Oh come on fire lord, you are getting slow with the dial swords.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are.” Suki laughed and Zuko looked at her with his moth open, bothered. Or well, he was acting as he was bothered.

But meanwhile he was acting dramatic, Suki was faster enough to hit him. He lost balance and ended sitting in the floor groaning. “Ouch.” The fall wasn’t that bad but of course he was complaining about it.

“Oh I’m sorry, Zuko.” She said as she sat next to him.

She was sitting really close to him and Agni! He was getting nervous.

“Suki?” He looked into her eyes. They were gray that day.

“Hm?” And of course she was looking back.

“I…” His eyes traveled to her lips and back at her eyes. She leaned closer to him and he decided to be brave.

“Can I?” He asked, his eyes fixated on her lips.

Suki smiled, and nodded. “Yes.”

And so, the fire lord kissed the Kyoshi warrior. Timid at first but as the kiss went on, it was more intense. But always sweet. His hand were in her checks meanwhile her hands were in his shoulders.

“I’m so glad you finally did it.” She said, breaking the kiss as she gasped for air.

“I-what?” He was confused, shocked but smiling like a fool in love.

“Oh you silly fire lord. You thought you were being subtle with your crush? I was being subtle with it. You were a blushing mess.” One of Suki’s hands left his shoulder to caress his scared check.

“You...really?”

Suki chuckled kissing him again. It was a good day indeed.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

As inspired by Joey being absolutely fricken precious, how about Jaskier (even modern AU if you feel it fits better) helps reader make a DnD character and theyre both just being generally chaotic cuties? Maybe Jask suggested the game as a distraction from stress? (Like forreal, dnd gives me something to look forward to in these times.) 💕

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Modern!Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 1,298 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: Modern!Jask helping Reader through quarantine stress by the power of Dungeons and Dragons. Thank you for this amazing prompt, nonny. Hope you enjoy xo

He’d been watching you grow more and more anxious as you watched the news and tried to telework. Jaskier was grateful that you had a job where you could work from home during these dangerous times, but he knew that it meant you never felt you had a break. You were always checking emails or fretting over things long past the work hours you’d set. There was only one thing to do.

You jumped as the books were plopped onto the table but before you could ask what was going on Jaskier had already turned around and was walking back to his office. This time he returned with a wooden chest that you knew contained his dice collection, as well as a couple of binders. He sat next to you front of the supplies and the azure eyes fixed you with a determined and excited look.

“Y/N, the time has come,” he intoned dramatically. You cocked your eyebrow in question but he saw an amused smirk play about your lips and he was encouraged that he was on the right track. “The time has come for you to play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh! But… how?” you asked. You’d been planning on joining the game he hosted once a week, overtaking the dining room table while you usually relaxed in the bedroom or your office, but the quarantine had dashed those plans. Or so you’d thought.

“My group has decided to try out playing online and you will be joining,” he explained. He slowly snuck the laptop away from you and you didn’t stop him, glancing with interest at the books in front of you.

“I’m so excited!” he said with eyes shining with excitement and a giddy smile that was infectious.

“Ok well you know I don’t know basically anything about this so how do we start?” you asked. He pulled the topmost book down and pulled a couple pieces of paper from a binder.

“First we make your character. Now my group has been playing for a bit so they’re at level five now so I think it’s best to make your character the same level. That just means you’re going to get more cool shit, so don’t even worry about that. Let’s look at races,” he handed you the book opened to a page and you skimmed through them, looking at the different races you could be while Jaskier explained where you didn’t understand.

“Ok so halflings are just, like, hobbits, right?” you asked.

“Yep!” Jaskier answered.

“Well I AM a hobbit basically so I’m going with that,” you said decisively.

“Excellent choice! You’ll get halfling’s luck which means if you roll a one, which is usually a critical failure, you get to reroll. Ok now we move onto classes,” he turned the pages, thumbing through them with the ease that can only be gained by rereading something so often you know exactly where to find what you want. He handed the book over to you again and it took longer to consider your options.

“Let’s break it down this way first, do you want to fight or do you want to cast spells?” he asked, noting your confusion.

“I want to be magic,” you replied. From there he took you through the options again.

“Wait – what’s the difference between a sorcerer and a wizard?” you asked.

“Wizards have to study and learn magic whereas sorcerer’s have a sort of innate magic,” he explained.

“Ooh… see I’m torn because in Harry Potter they’re called Wizards but I like the idea of just having magic within me,” you mused.

“Oh love, you most certainly have magic within you,” Jaskier said with a little wink. You rolled your eyes but laughed, the first time he’d seen you laugh in a while.

“Ok you know what actually I’m going to go with Warlock,” you said suddenly.

“Oh? Going for the sketchy class, eh?” he teased.

“As far as I can see there’s nothing sketchy about it. You work for a god, you get some magic. It’s like capitalism. Or having a sugar daddy,” you reasoned. Jaskier laughed but nodded.

“Alright, the good news is you can pick your sugar daddy. There’s Archfey or some Fiendish ones or-”

“Mephistopheles?” you ventured hopefully.

“Oddly specific but yes, that could happen,” he replied.

“Mephistopheles,” you said decisively, a smile that was borderline creepy coming over your face.

“Do we – uh – need to have a little talk about why you’re so horny for Mephistopheles?” he asked.

“Do you want to have that talk?” you asked pointedly.

“Good point. Just – no summoning demons in the apartment, alright? It would make quarantine just a bit too awkward for me,” Jaskier pleaded. You made a big production of sighing dejectedly.

“Fine,” you grumbled, “Ok what’s next?”

He took you through the backgrounds (“I can straight up be a Charlatan? Like that can just be my identity?”) and the alignments (“ok but it would be too cliché to have Mephistopheles as my patron and be evil, right? Like there would be a more satisfying tension if I was good but he was so, so bad… Hey, come back!”) and equipment (“I want a bag of holding but like I want it to look like an Ikea bag”) and before long you had a character.

“What do you want to name your Chaotic Good Charlatan Halfling Warlock who frequents Fantasy Ikea?” Jaskier asked as he helped you finish filling out your stats.

“Ooh I’m not sure. Would it be plagiarism if I named my hobbit Pippin? Like, will the ghost of J.R.R. Tolkien arise from his grave and shake a finger at me sternly if I do that?” you asked.

“I think we’ll be fine. There’s literally a whole musical called Pippin,” he replied. Your eyes widened in excitement. “Different Pippin.”

You looked decidedly less excited but when you turned back to your character sheet you happily wrote PIPPIN BRANDYBUCK” on the paper.

“Brandybuck eh? Just doubling down on the Lord of the Rings references?” Jaskier asked with amusement.

“I am obviously their child, Jaskier,” you said with a little head shake as if he were being silly.

“You’re such a nerd,” he teased with a look of pride on his face.

“Well you’re the Dungeon Master so….,” you countered.

“Yes, which means you’re sleeping with the Dungeon Master. Don’t expect to get any special treatment. My monsters aren’t going to pull any punches,” he insisted.

“Your monsters won’t need to. Pip is a badass and has the power of Demons and Anime on her side,” you retorted, doodling little hearts around your character’s name.

“Oh you’ll also need to write a backstory. Not right this second but just anything you can think of that you want me to know. Family, any relationships, that sort of thing.”

“She has a great love,” you said immediately, “A bard who travels far and wide. She grew tired of his traveling and that he expected her to just be waiting around for him to come back and that’s why she set off on her own, to have her own adventures instead of waiting to hear about his.”

Jaskier scribbled down some notes on a notebook he pulled from another binder and looked at you expectantly after you’d finished talking.

“That’s all I have for now,” you admitted.

“That’s brilliant! That’s a really good start! See, you’re a natural at this!” he exclaimed. You leaned over and kissed him, and then pulled back just far enough to look him in the eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a meaningful look, “I didn’t realize how much I needed something to focus on that wasn’t just another stressor.”

He smiled, cupping your face with his hands to pull you in for another kiss.

[alj4890]

Love Prompt

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) with the prompts of interacting with family members as requested by @flyawayboo , flirting by Anonymous, and "Don't make me regret this." By @krsnlove

(Thomas x Amanda) taken from Another Night, Another Dream storyline

A/N Going a little ways into the future of the series for this one, LOL. Because, Lord knows I can't find a way to stay in the present 🤦🏻Plus I adore the legends of the Trevi Fountain and couldn't resist adding it to this short fic.

@lxaah11​ ​ ​​   @alleksa16​ ​ ​​   @penguininapinktuxedo​ ​ ​​   @blackcoffee85​ ​ ​​   @stopforamoment​ ​ ​​     @hopefulmoonobject​ ​ ​​     @krsnlove​ ​ ​​     @annekebbphotography​ ​ ​​        @hopelessromantic1352​ ​ ​​   . @sunflowergirl05​ ​ ​​   @desireepow-1986​ ​ ​​  @greywitchyshots​ ​ ​​   @lilyoffandoms​ ​  @moodyvalentinestories​ ​ ​​  @emceesynonymroll​ ​ ​​   @my-heart-beats-for-ya​ ​ ​ @aworldoffandoms​ ​ ​   @ab1901​ ​ ​     @lolablackwrites​ ​ ​     @flyawayboo​ ​ ​   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ ​ ​   . @trappedinfandoms​ ​ ​   @kate-mckenzie​ ​ ​

Masterlist

Some Advice

"Hey."

Thomas looked up from the papers he was grading. "Rachel? This is a surprise. What are you doing here?"

His younger sister shut the door. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I would come and personally invite you and Amanda to Rome."

"Rome? As in Rome, Italy?" He set the paper he had been reviewing on his desk. At her nod, his brow furrowed. "Why?"

"My wedding anniversary is coming up." She explained. "And I thought it would be romantic to return to the city where he and I first met." She shrugged and looked away from his piercing eyes. "I planned on inviting those that were members of our wedding party."

He leaned back in his chair, silently studying her. Rachel's hands were clasped tightly together. She seemed unable to sit still. Her leg shook up and down.

"What's wrong?" He asked, tempering his gruff tone.

Her lips twisted into a frustrated frown. "Nothing."

"Rachel," he said softly. "Something--"

"Forget it." She snapped. "It was a stupid idea." She hopped to her feet and grabbed her purse. The strap snagged on the arm of the chair, causing all its contents to fall to the floor.

Thomas came around and helped her pick up her stuff. He glanced at her face and stilled.

Tears were running down her cheeks.

"Rachel?" He helped her stand.

She took a breath and walked into his arms, crying against his shoulder.

He gently put his arms around her and patted her back at intervals.

Once she was calm, he prodded some more.

"What's really going on?"

Rachel let out a deep sigh. "I think my marriage is coming to an end."

"Why?" Thomas sat down across from her.

"I don't know exactly what it is, other than this feeling I have." She replied. "Stephen has been distant."

Her brother tried to control his temper. "You believe he is having an affair?"

"No." She quickly responded. "Maybe. I don't know."

Thomas grimaced when she dropped her head into her hands. "What exactly has he done?"

"Nothing." She reached for another tissue. "He comes home everyday after work and goes through the motions of meaningless conversation, dinner, shuts himself off in his study for a couple of hours then goes to sleep."

"What did he normally do?" Thomas inquired when he still couldn't see the problem.

"I don't know how to explain it." Rachel snapped. "I'm sure when your wife is not acting like herself, yet doing everything she normally does, you can still tell that something isn't right."

Thomas nodded. "That's true."

Rachel blew her nose and finally focused on her brother. "You've been married longer than I have."

"Just by a year." He added.

"Still." Rachel leaned forward. "How do you do it?"

"I beg your pardon." Thomas muttered. "How do I do what?"

"Whatever it is that has you both smiling." She clarified. "Even when you are out at some party or something you don't want to do, you still end up smiling at Amanda like she's..." Rachel trailed off. "Like you're seeing her for the first time."

"Ah. That." Thomas stood and returned to his desk chair.

"Yes, that." His sister glared at him. "What is that?"

"It's, well, it's a game." He reluctantly admitted.

"A game?" Her eyes widened. "You don't mean some type of sexual role playing game?" She closed her eyes in disgust. "Don't make me regret asking you this, please."

"It isn't that!" He grumbled. "We are ourselves the entire time."

"Then what type of game is it?" Rachel persisted.

"A flirting game." He snapped. "We act as if we are meeting for the first time."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "You do this?!"

"Yes." He bit out.

"Wow." She breathed. "I never thought you would ever do something like that." She looked up at him. "Did Amanda create it?"

"I did." He crossed his arms and avoided her gaze.

"You did?! Why?" Rachel was beginning to see yet another aspect of how falling in love had changed her brother. She couldn't quite wrap her head around it.

Thomas glared at her. "Because I wanted to show her how special she is. How I still feel like I did the night I met her. That if I had it to do all over, I would still try to win her heart."

Rachel teared up again. She understood that depth of love. "That's really sweet."

His frown eased. "She will sometimes initiate the game, flirting with me." He focused on his sister. "Perhaps in Rome, you can try your own flirtation with Stephen."

"Perhaps." She stood up. "I need to get home." She paused. "I will call you with the travel dates." She opened the door. "I really hope you come with us."

"I'll clear my schedule." He promised.

"Thank you." She smiled at him before shutting his door.

****************

The Hassler Roma, Italy, three weeks later...

"Good evening." Amanda leaned down close to whisper.

Thomas stood up and held a chair out for her.

She slowly smiled at him. "Sir, I never sit down with men I don't know."

His lips trembled with laughter before smoothing into a slight smirk. "Allow me to rectify that." He took her hand in his. "I'm Thomas."

She watched him raise her hand to his lips. His stubble tickled her sensitive skin when he kissed the inside of her wrist.

His dark eyes traveled over her body before zeroing in on her eyes. "And you are?"

"Amanda." She replied, fighting her own grin.

"Won't you join me?" He gestured to the empty chair beside his.

"I suppose I could for a moment or two." She replied, sitting down. "So? Thomas?"

He quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

"What brings you to Rome?" Amanda thanked the waiter when he poured a glass of Sangiovese for her then returned her attention to the man next to her.

He set his arm along the back of her chair and turned toward her. His eyes dipped down to her lips. "I'm afraid you will think it silly."

She propped her chin on her hand, a flirty smile appeared on her lips. "Try me."

His lips curved even more so. "I'm here due to romance."

"Really?" Her smile deepened. She felt a thrill go down her spine when his fingers brushed along the back cutout of her dress. "It isn't your romance, is it?"

Thomas leaned closer. "No." He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "My sister met her husband here." He trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. "They invited me along with a few others to celebrate their wedding anniversary."

"How sweet." She murmured.

"What brought you here?" He asked.

"A man." She replied with a dramatic sigh. "He promised me a trip filled with romantic moments."

"Has he not delivered on those promises?" Thomas pressed a kiss to her neck.

She closed her eyes at the tingle she felt down to her toes. "Somewhat." She tilted her head, allowing him easier access. "He left me when I took too long to dress."

"Perhaps he left to keep your dinner reservation." Thomas pointed out. "Or to make certain you had these." He lifted a bouquet of roses off of the chair next to him.

Her smile grew as she took them. "Thomas."

He captured her lips in a tender kiss. "Forgiven?"

"I was never angry." She told him, pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. "I just wanted to tease you."

He chuckled and asked their waiter to have her flowers sent up to the penthouse.

Amanda slipped her hand with his. "Are Rachel and Stephen joining us?"

"No." His pleasant expression dimmed. "She sent a message saying that Stephen is too tired."

"Oh." Amanda felt slightly guilty being so happy with her own husband while her sister-in-law was suffering from doubt and worry. "I wish he..." She trailed off with a resigned sigh. "I wish he would put forth an effort for Rachel's sake."

Thomas squeezed her hand. "Do you think I should confront him?"

His wife quickly went through the ramifications of such an act. "I think you should."

Thomas stared at her in surprise. "You do?"

"Yes." Amanda leaned closer to make certain no one could overhear her. "What if it isn't their marriage? He could be going through something that he can't share with her that he might feel more comfortable discussing with you."

Thomas slowly nodded. "I suppose that is a possibility."

"He might not even realize he has caused her to have all these doubts." She continued. "Being confronted about it might snap him out of his behavior and make him act like his old self."

"What should I do if that isn't the case?" Thomas lowered his eyes to their clasped hands. "What if he doesn't love Rachel any more? You know my temper toward those that I think have hurt someone I love."

Amanda's tender smile appeared. "I know." She gently caressed his cheek. "But you are also wise enough to know when and if you should unleash your anger."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her palm. "Then I will see about talking to him alone. Until then," he smiled at her, "we will enjoy our time together."

*****************

The next day...

"You want to go shopping? For clothes?" Rachel repeated.

Amanda nodded. "I thought it might be fun." She hoped lightning didn't strike her for that whopper of a lie. She might detest shopping but she knew Rachel loved to browse. "Who knows? You might find something gorgeous for the anniversary dinner."

Rachel sighed. "Okay." She linked her arm with Amanda's after sending Stephen a text that she would be gone for most of the morning. "Can we treat ourselves to gelato afterwards?"

"After? We are treating ourselves multiple times to gelato and any other sweet treat we find." Amanda declared.

Rachel smiled and tried to focus on the fun she knew she was about to have with her sister-in-law.

Amanda did all she could to make her sister-in-law laugh and enjoy their excursions to the various shops. She surprised her with buying a dress that she swore was made for Rachel.

"It is perfect for a special night out." She told her.

The two giggled like school girls while they shared their first impressions of the men they had married. As they sat at a small café for lunch, Rachel asked her opinion on Stephen's current behavior.

"I've been trying for weeks to rekindle that spark we had." She admitted. "Nothing seems to work or last long enough to make a difference." She covered her face. "I don't know what to do. This vacation is the last of my ideas." Rachel dropped her hands. "If this doesn't work, then I don't see anything fixing our marriage." Tears fell silently as she struggled to calm down.

Amanda hugged her tight. She softly voiced that she did not doubt that Stephen still loved her or that their marriage would endure this trial.

"I hope so." Rachel told her, wiping the stray tears. She let out a teary laugh when Amanda offered to call Olivia for some torture techniques to use on Stephen if he didn't live up to their expectation.

"I know she will be more than happy to share her knowledge." The duchess teased.

"Hold onto that thought." Rachel told her. "I might travel to Lythikos for some lessons."

****************

Back at The Hassler Roma...

Stephen came downstairs to join his brother-in-law for lunch.

Thomas noticed immediately the unkempt appearance. Stephen's hair was slightly mussed. He had thrown on a wrinkled shirt and had not bothered shaving.

He forced a cheerful smile. "Sorry, I'm late."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "It's fine."

"What looks good?" Stephen asked, lifting the menu.

Once their orders were given and drinks were placed on their table, Thomas decided to be blunt.

"I don't know what it is, but I know something is wrong." He kept his voice even in tone. "And Rachel believes it is her fault that you are unhappy."

Stephen seemed to deflate before him. "It's not her. It never has been." He ran his hands over his face. "Is this what this trip is about? She thinks I'm tired of our marriage?"

Thomas merely nodded.

Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes at the thought that Rachel would jump to such a conclusion. "Why didn't she say anything?"

"Would you if you believed she wanted out of your marriage?" Thomas didn't attempt to hide his anger over his sister worrying over, in his newly formed opinion, this pathetic excuse of a man. "She suspects that you are having an affair or wish to begin one."

"She thinks there's another woman?!" Stephen exclaimed. He searched his pockets, cursing when he couldn't find his cell phone. "I have to call her--"

"Sit down." Thomas ordered sharply. "You can't go off halfcocked. What is going on with you?" He eyed the man closely. "You aren't going to say anything except what the truth is for," he waved his hand toward Stephen's rumpled appearance, "this."

"I lost my job." Stephen admitted. "The company I had been made a junior partner at the beginning of the year has filed for bankruptcy. I was laid off with severance pay." He rubbed his forehead. "I have been trying for months to find another position."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Thomas asked.

"Because I've been the one to support her aspirations. Her dreams. Whatever she wanted, she knew she could try for without worry over finances." Stephen replied. "I wanted to remain that steadfast rock she has always had since the moment we met."

"Rachel has her career now." Thomas poured more water in his glass. "Do you doubt she will move into the role of supporter for you?"

"No." Stephen slumped in his chair. "More that she will see that she could do so much better." He lifted his eyes to Thomas. "I'm still amazed she fell for someone like me when she was introduced to everyone in your world." He snorted softly. "From movie stars to princes."

"Then that alone should reassure you of her devotion." Thomas snapped. "Rachel wanted you over some of the most talented and successful individuals of our generation."

"I know." He muttered. "I'm waiting to hear back from another architectural firm." He let out a deep sigh. "The only problem is that it is in Vancouver. It has been the most promising of my interviews." Stephen looked up at Thomas. "How can I ask her to leave her dream job to move for me to have a job?"

Thomas sipped his coffee. "Is this your dream job? The one in Vancouver?"

"No." Stephen admitted. "But it is a job that pays well."

"I would suggest discussing this with Rachel." He advised. "If you continue like you are, keeping all this hidden, you will end up driving a wedge between the two of you." His tone remained firm. "One that might cause irreparable damage."

Stephen slowly nodded. "You're right. I know you are." He picked at his Cacio e pepe. "I don't want to ruin her time in Italy. I'll tell her when we get--"

"Now!" Thomas snapped. "You will tell her now. Her trip is already ruined with you moping around. Tell her and make the most of your time here."

He handed Stephen his phone. "Call her. She's with Amanda who already knows the situation."

Stephen swallowed nervously as he pressed the call button. "Hey Rach. Are you busy? We need to talk."

**************

30 minutes later, the elevator of The Hassles...

"I can't do this." Rachel exclaimed. "This is it. This is the end of my marriage."

"You don’t know that." Amanda replied.

"My love life began and ended in Rome." Rachel added, her voice quivering. "I shouldn't have come back." She slumped against the wall. "I can't face him."

"I really think everything will be fine." Amanda continued. "You said he sounded more anxious than angry."

"Yes, but what if he is anxious to end our marriage?!" Rachel covered her face as tears pricked her eyes. "I can't believe I let this happen." She dropped her head back. "I've orchestrated my own sad ending."

The doors opened on her floor.

Amanda waited for her to move. "Rachel?"

"Can I meet him in your room?" Rachel asked.

"Mine?" She repeated. "But, wouldn't you rather have some privacy?"

"No." Rachel sniffed. "You and Thomas know everything anyway." She lifted pleading eyes to her sister-in-law. "I can't do this on my own."

Amanda was no match for her sorrow and quickly pressed the button to the penthouse. "Call him and tell him to meet you there."

Rachel swiftly hugged her and made the necessary call.

***************

"Here?" Thomas was dumbfounded. "You wish to have what should be a private discussion here?"

Amanda tried to shush him. "Thomas, she--"

"Yes." Rachel sank down on their couch. "I need support."

Thomas shook his head. "Rachel, it isn't what you think. Stephen--"

"You don't know that." She interrupted. "He--"

"See!" Amanda exclaimed with a smile. "Stephen must have--"

"I had lunch with him earlier." He interrupted. "We had a talk and--"

"What?!" Rachel jumped to her feet. "You talked to him about me?!"

"Yes." Thomas snapped at her irritated tone. If anyone should be irritated, it should be him. "And he--"

"You're the reason he wants to talk to me?" She huffed and turned her back on her brother. "That's the last time I confide in you."

"Oh no." Amanda mumbled, backing away from the two. "Rachel, Thomas was only trying to--"

"I was trying to help!" Thomas spat. "You--"

Amanda hurried to open the door for Stephen as the siblings bickered.

"Rachel?" Stephen called out in the middle of her tirade.

She stilled and slowly turned around.

Thomas cleared his throat. "We'll give you two some privacy." He looked down in surprise when his sister grabbed his hand.

"Stay." She pleaded, her voice hoarse with emotion. "Please."

Stephen rubbed the back of his neck. "You do know everything." His cheeks darkened. "Might as well see what happens next.

Thomas softly groaned as he sat down. The last thing he wanted to do was play spectator/mediator for them. He patted the spot next to him for Amanda.

She eased around the nervous couple as they avoided eye contact.

The two sat quietly as Rachel and Stephen finally revealed to one another their worries.

**************

The Trevi Fountain, a few days later...

"I was standing right here." Rachel twirled around. "I was about to throw my coins in the fountain when Stephen approached.

She motioned for her husband to reenact the moment.

He grinned and walked over. "I think my next words were, hi."

His wife rolled her eyes. "And?" She prodded.

"I see that the need to direct is genetic." Amanda whispered to Thomas.

He stood behind her with his arms around her waist. He squeezed Amanda tight in retaliation, causing her to laugh.

The couple received a glare from Rachel for not paying close attention to what had been a reenactment of a life changing moment.

"Ahem," she tapped her foot while waiting.

"Sorry." Amanda mumbled.

"I'm not." Thomas muttered, causing his wife to laugh once more. He pressed a kiss to her cheek then put his sunglasses on when he noticed photographers walking around. "Can we wrap this up, Rachel?"

Stephen ignored him. He took his wife's hand that held the coins. "Let's see. I believe I said, how many coins are you going to toss?"

"And I said, two." She added. "Because I thought it would be romantic to fall in love in Rome."

"I told her," he turned to his brother and sister-in-law, "that it would be a shame to chance such without throwing three coins in." He wrapped his arms around Rachel. "If you fall in love here, then you should marry the one that lost his heart to you."

"And you gave me an extra coin while keeping three for yourself." She added. "We then threw the coins in at the same moment."

"Naturally I asked her to have dinner with me." Stephen smiled down at her. "For the rest of her nights here. Then I knew I needed every single night of her life."

They shared a tender kiss as they both thought back to that moment of realizing they had met the one.

"Aww!" Amanda sighed. She leaned back against Thomas. "Looks like your talk combined with their finally discussing the issue worked."

He snorted softly. "It better have. I refuse to step into the role of mediator in their marriage again."

"And yet you did the job perfectly." She teased, turning in his arms to face him. Her arms looped around his neck. "I only offered to call Olivia for ways to hurt Stephen if he didn't act right."

Thomas smiled at the thought. "One of the many things I love about you is your ability to focus on what is needed in the moment. Torture is something I would have fully supported if Stephen had remained stubborn."

"Hey!" Stephen called out, interrupting them. "Stop gazing into each other's eyes for a moment." He cocked his head to the side. "There's something we have to do before we leave."

He took Rachel's hand and made certain Thomas and Amanda were following them as he walked toward a deserted area of the fountain.

A small fountain with water flowing in a nondescript basin was off to the right side of the Trevi Fountain.

"What's this?" Rachel asked.

"The Fountain of Lovers." Stephen explained. "Legend has it that any couple who drinks from this will be together forever." He reached in his backpack and pulled out two plastic cups, handing one to Thomas.

Rachel watched closely as her husband filled the cup in his hand and offered it to her. She smiled and took a sip. He kept her hands wrapped around it as he lifted it to his own lips. After a sip, he let the cup fall to the ground and stomped on it. "Glasses were broken to signify that nothing could tear the couple apart. Time, distance, idiotic thoughts," he winked at Rachel. "Nothing could happen except that in the end, they would be together."

She threw her arms around him for a passionate kiss. She then turned to her brother. "Are you going to ignore tradition?"

"You mean superstition." He grunted when Amanda elbowed him. "Do I want forever with your elbows?"

She tried to glare but failed miserably when her laughter slipped out. "I suppose I can find someone here who doesn't mind the thought of forever with me." She stood on tiptoes to look over his shoulder.

Thomas yanked her over to the fountain, grumbling about vows and their importance.

He filled the cup and handed it to her. His frown eased when he gazed upon her face. Her eyes met his when she lifted the cup to her lips. She winked at him while taking a drink.

Amanda offered Thomas the cup, smiling when he followed Stephen's example by cupping his hands around hers. He let it drop after he took a sip and stomped on it.

Thomas glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Rachel and Stephen had left arm in arm, giving him this moment alone with his wife.

Amanda stepped into his embrace and tenderly kissed him. Her eyes twinkled when she looked up at him. "Now you're stuck with me."

"That has been my intention from the moment I saw you." He told her, keeping her tucked against his side as they left the fountain. "This was merely an added declaration to my love being yours and yours alone."

"What a coincidence." She pressed her lips to his once more. "My love happens to belong to no one but you."

[akaspiderman]

400 lux

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: none

word count: 3.8k

plot: 400 lux is the time of day where the sun rise and sets. In a funny way, relationships are similar to the sun.

A/N: this is for @hollandroos and @neptuneparker’s writing challenge! the prompt i had was song number 10 (400 lux by lorde) i’m not gonna lie, i did stray a bit from the song but the base is there :)

not my gif

Time seemed endless. There was 525,600 minutes in a year and god knows what you’re supposed to do with it. You were never the type to dwindle on time, it was a social construct after all. Lately, there wasn’t enough of it though. You tried to grab onto the time but it slipped through your fingers like sand trickling down a hourglass. Time was moving whether you liked it or not so all you could do was bask in the moments of pure bliss. The type where everything slows down and it’s just you. And him.

Tom was pouring his heart out to some unfamiliar song on the radio. He blasted it out and your window was rolled down all the way. You stuck your head out the window embracing the wind that greeted your face as Tom continued to miss every note. His arm was draped over the steering wheel when you looked back into the car and he whipped his damp hair around. You laughed harder every second he got further the song before turning your attention back to the wind. The sun kissed both of your face as it started to disappear under the horizon, leaving traces of gold on every surface it graced. These were the type of moments that made you forget why you needed time to stop.

The song faded out, being replaced by a melodramatic song that Tom wasn’t feeling. Without his singing, it feels silly to hang your head out the window. You settled for sticking your arm out, letting the wind run through your fingers. The afterglow of that moment lasted and you can’t help but smilie.

Tom reached over to the radio, turning down the song. He glanced over to you as you fixated on the wind and your hand, a small smile on his lips. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Me too,” You said, “I don’t want to go back yet.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Tom had that smile that brought people down to their knees still on his face.

You glanced around to see you were almost home but not quite there yet. The road you were on was a little clearing, where no trees blocked the sun. It was wildflowers that lined the sides of the road and welcomed you back from your trip. “Pull over.”

“What?”

“Can you please pull over?” You asked with a pout.

Tom dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine,” he said as the car slowed down.

“You’re going to be a great actor,” you laughed. The car comes to a halt and you unlatch the seatbelt taking in your surroundings. It was backroad, there shouldn’t be too many cars passing by. Besides, it was later so most people should be home with their families at this point.

“So, this was your great idea?” Tom said with a cheeky smile.

“Shut up.”

Tom wiggled his eyebrows at you with a laugh. “May I ask why you wanted to pull over?”

There was the real truth and the more socially acceptable truth. The actual answer would be you trying to stop the inevitable. Tom was always going to go somewhere with his life, anyone could see it. He had this passion for acting and his eyes would light up like the stars when anyone asked him about it. He was always going to be the more successful one out of you two, even back when you guys were five. He learned the ABC’s before you and could write your name before you even could. He understood algebra faster than you could comprehend it. He tried to teach you how to dance and you failed miserably. He was always five steps ahead of you, but he would never leave you.

Tom was next door for as long as you could remember. At first your friendship started as a forced play date when you were four as the parents mingled. By the age of six, you were joined at the hip. It was unbearable if you guys didn’t see each other every day. Even if Tom was throwing up sick, you would visit him at his house and talk to him ten feet away by the door. He was easily your best friend and vice versa. There was something about seeing someone go through awkward voice cracks and questionable fashion choices that binds two people together.

That’s where the root of the problem was. Tom was so familiar, he was part of your daily routine. He would always be there no matter what happened. If you had a huge fight and you ended up calling him in tears, he would listen, all feelings aside. Tom was always there and now he wouldn’t be. When he started getting gigs and had to leave, you would facetime and talk as often as you could. He would never be gone for too long. This time was different though. This was going to be the role. Tom would be filming around the world, gaining more and more attention. He wouldn’t be home in months. He would always be booked and he would meet amazing, wonderful people. People who are far more interesting and beautiful than you. You’ll just be a memory.

If you stop him from driving back to your houses, just maybe you’ll have more time with him. You could lay your head on his lap and he could lace his fingers through your hair. He would tell you pretty things and funny things. With Tom you could do an infinite amount of things. You don’t care if time stopped and it was just you and him. You would kill all of your time with him because he made life exciting.

Maybe you were selfish for that. Wanting him to stay when he can’t. You would never dare to ask him to stay. This was his dream and you couldn’t ask him to stop just for you. You had your own dreams that he’ll stay and fall in love with you like you fell for him. You could hug and kiss and do everything you wanted, but that isnt possible. You’re his best friend and you would be damned if you kept him tied down here. He has to much potential, he can’t waste it here. You loved him too much to let him jeopardize his dreams. Even if it meant that he would meet beautiful people with interesting lives. The type of people that makes him fall in love, something you failed at.

That was quite a lengthy explanation. So you settled for a shrug and “I’m going to miss you.”

“Hey, we should watch the sunset,” Tom suggested. He knew you. There was clearly something bothering you but he won’t pry. You’ll open up to him when you wanted and he’ll listen when you do.

“It’s already halfway down,” you pointed out.

It was too late though. Tom was already closing the door and he went around to the front of the car. He sat on the hood directly in front of you to block the sun. He turned around and stuck his tongue out before patting the empty space besides him.

You grab the orange juice he bought for you earlier on the beach before taking your seat next to him. There was a light breeze that made you pull on the sleeves of the hoodie Tom lent you. It smelled of sand and sunshine and of course, him. It made you feel weirdly honored that he dedicated a whole day to the two of you. He was leaving in three days and he spent one of his last days on you.

It started the same as every other day. He randomly showed up at the front door, keys dangling from his fingers. You were out the door in three minutes, clutching the backpack Tom forced you to make when he first got his license. He told you all those years ago to include every essential for a spontaneous adventure.

The two of you have gotten good at driving around aimlessly. There was never a goal in mind, hence the bag full of necessities. It was the usual routine of Tom driving past the landmarks of your childhood before you guys came up with a rough plan. Tom was set on doing something more out there because it was going to be the last day of thrills in a while. You suggested a trip to the beach and he loved it. The day was filled with ocean waves that tickled your skin and Toms laughter filling the air.

“Earth to (y/n),” Tom said. He snapped his fingers in front of your face.

You pushed a piece of hair behind your ears, shaking your head. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

“It’s nothing important. It seems like you have something more pressing.”

You hit him with your shoulder, rolling your eyes. “No, my mistake. I want to hear what you said.”

Tom hits you back, a smile growing on his face. “No, you should talk first. I’m just going to go on and on about Peter Parker and you know it.”

“I don’t know, just going to miss you.”

Tom turned to you, his face unamused. He was leaving so soon and it was starting to bother him that you won’t talk. “There’s something more to it. You’ve been saying that for the past few weeks. There had to be something more.”

The sun was painting the sky with a mixture of pink that bled into the yellow and orange glow. Purple was slowly seeping it’s way into the light tones but the sun still kept you warm. You wondered if the sunsets are the same where Tom was going. “Are you going to miss it?”

“Wow, being straight forward aren’t we?”

“Tom-“

Tom smiled softly. The wind that was coming in whipped his already messy curls around. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close, so you had no option but to lean on him. “I’m kidding. What do you mean?”

You found warmth in him. Tom was an affectionate friend, greeting you with hugs and he would lean all over you trying to get comfortable. Each time he radiated this glow that would spread to you so you had to smile. You can’t let it go. “Will you miss everything? Like this place and the people? What about the food? Would you miss the trees here and the sunsets?”

Tom rested his head on yours, pausing. It was long enough to let you know he was considering the question but short enough for you to know he wasn’t making up an answer. “Of course. This is where I grew up. I’m not leaving forever, I’ll always come back here.”

“It’s going to be different when you come back though.”

The purple and blue overtook the sky. There was just a sliver of the sun peeking through. Tom peeled his eyes off of it. “Nothing ever changes in this town.”

Tom always dreamt of making it big. No one doubted his ambitions at all. He would talk about the places he would see and the people he would be. He lived without fear, he would simply go out and do it. That’s where you differed. You like familiarity and comfort. The sheer idea of failing was terrifying to you. You couldn’t imagine moving out of the country for a job. It would all be new and unfamiliar. There was no one to talk to and you wouldn’t know the secrets of the town. You would fall hard if you left and you know it. You needed a safe place to go home to. Tom didn’t need that, he would take every chance for a shot to make it big. He won’t look back. He’ll just see his hometown and maybe nothing more.

He could be right about the town never changing, but it’ll still be different. He won’t be there. It was going to be you facing the world alone. You were going to have to adapt without Tom to lean on. He was that person that reminded you everything would be okay. He was your rock. Now, he would be on the other side of the world. He’ll change. It’s one of those things that will undoubtedly happen. You won’t be in the same page anymore.

“Yeah, but we might change,” you said quietly.

“We’re always changing.”

“You don’t get it.”

Tom scoffed and pulled away from you. “Of course I get it. I’m the one that’s leaving.”

Your heart sunk as he retaliated. You wanted to touch him in the most innocent ways. You wanted to touch his face and hold his hands, but he was annoyed. He doesn’t see it the way you do. “It’s just- it’s just that we’re going to be different.”

“Are you saying that our relationship will fall apart?”

The sun was completely consumed with the navy blue that draped the sky. The temperature fell with the sun and stars spotted throughout provided the only light. “No, I’m not saying that. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

That was a lie.

Rather than explaining, you sit in silence with Tom. He won’t get it. There was a fear inside of you that he’ll move on without you. This place was comfort and you can’t move away. He’ll do it though. He would be in his element and he’ll be the happiest he’s ever been. Then he would meet someone else that would be everything you’re not. He would fall in love with them, not you. Just like that, you’d be out of his life.

Tom did see it like that though. He didn’t want things to change between you guys but for the last few days you keep making it sound like he’s dead. He didn’t want to be dead to you when he left. He didn’t want for you to think of him as another person. Yet your mind was stuck on that mode and he can’t figure out why. He wish you would live now, rather than worry about the future.

He sighed and reached out to hold onto your shoulder. “Hey, it’s getting cold.”

You nodded in agreement and you both got into the car he kept running for no reason. You rest your head on the window and he starts to drive. You hug yourself in his hoodie, not wanting to let him go. It wasnt a big fight or anything but you can’t help but feel like you messed up. You should of told him then. It would’ve been easy to explain why you’re already missing him when he’s not gone. You don’t want him to forget about you and how you’re so hopelessly falling for him. Something in you just turned off when he asked, you didn’t want to mess it up more.

The more you sat in the car in silence the more you realized you had to tell him. You had to be the one to smooth it over. It wasn’t his fault that you fell in love with the simple gestures he does or the way he lives without a care in the world. You walked knowingly into love, you embraced it really. You weren’t scared of being in love, it was the fact that you could mess up everything. The idea of him shutting you out was revolting. It was enough for you to not say anything for two years.

Now it was different. He’s going to become famous. He’ll have people fawning over him everywhere he goes. You don’t want to get lost in the faces of people that scream I love you at him. You had to be more than a face. You had to be with him.

It as now or never. You had to tell him, you can’t be mixed up in the crowds. Maybe he was more outgoing and you liked familiar roads, but you guys worked. He’s been your best friend forever and you guys were always okay. You wanted to kill all your time with him. With him you didn’t care. You could drive around aimlessly forever with him and you’ll always talk like you have something to say. Tom just made everything feel alright.

Then it hits you. He was the familiar feeling. You loved this town because of him. In all of your memories that you loved, he was in them. Every single memory you could think about included him. The town was great for sure, but he made it special. Without him, it wouldn’t be the same place. You never cared where you went when you were Tom, because he was there. He was that safe place.

You stopped leaning on the window to look over at him. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other was tapping to the beat of the song on the console. There was this ease to him and you know his anger was gone.

He was forming a smile when he caught you staring. That cheeky smile. “We’re going to go home soon and you can stare at me there too.”

You were already home, right here with him. He was always there for you and he made this town special to you. He made living here the best place to live. Your houses were quickly approaching and you made up your mind. You had to tell him, you need to.

The car comes to a stop in between your mailboxes, a compromise as Tom called it a few years back. Both of your houses sat illuminated next to you. Tom turned off the car and both of you sat there. When you unbuckled your seatbelt, Tom followed. You reached for his hand and held it there. Tom glanced up at you with a goofy smile, the tension earlier long forgotten. Nothing could get in between you guys. That’s why everything worked so well.

“What?” Tom asked. He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous twitch he had. The smile wouldn’t come off his face though.

“I like you.”

You thought you would be scared, but that feeling never came. Instead it was relief that flooded through you. It was taking in a fresh breath of air. It was a secret that you’ve been holding onto for so long that was now exposed. You can’t regret it because it felt good to say out loud. If he doesn’t reciprocate it back, at least he knows. At least you tried.

Tom paused for a second, you could practically see him try to organize his thoughts. Then he smiled a genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle and he shone like the sun. “Like me? As in like like me?”

You laughed at his choice of words but your heart was beaming. “Yeah, I like you like that.”

Tom sat there with the same smile, his eyes still shining like the sun was rising. “I like you too.”

Just like that your heart exploded into butterflies and summer days. It was the best reply you ever heard to anything you’ve ever said. Those three words sounded like a symphony to you. Those years of pent up feelings was worth it for this moment. Tom liked you. You could cry and dance at the same time with the overwhelming flood of happiness that hit you. “Are you joking?”

“Why would I?” Tom says. He swears that everything seemed brighter now.

“You’re gonna be a star Tom,” you said with a laugh.

“No-“

You cut off Tom. As much as you wanted to be cliché, you reminded yourself why you told him. He was going away. This was worth more than teasing. It demanded to be acknowledged. You don’t think you could wait for the sun to rise to talk about it again. It had to be now while you had the adrenaline rushing through you. “I like you but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re going to forget about me. I know you say you won’t change, but, but you might. There’s, um, probably going to be someone that’s way better than me. You’re working with Zendaya! She was your first celebrity crush, there’s no way I can stand a chance against her.”

“(y/n)-“

“Let me finish. I’m scared that if you leave you won’t remember me. You won’t remember this town that made us, us. It’ll be you and someone that’s much cooler than me. I don’t want to be forgotten. I have this weird voice in my mind that’s telling me to make you stay. I can’t and I won’t. This is your dream but I’m so scared of the collateral damage of it. I don’t want to be a memory. I got really weird this car ride back because I couldn’t stop thinking of you dating someone else. I had to say something. When we were sitting on the car I wanted to say I like you and I’d like it if you stayed. You can’t but that’s why I didn’t know how to respond earlier. I wanted you to stay. Asking you to stay is asking you to throw your dreams away and I won’t do that. I like us. I like this place. But I like you more, so you need to go on and do your thing.”

Tom takes your hand in his. As much affectionate as he was, he never held your hand. It was warm like the sun kissing your face at the beach. It wrapped around yours and you felt calm again. He was good for you and you know it.

“I won’t forget about you. You’re my best friend, I could never forget about you. You make my day feels better and you’re just pure sunshine. Yeah, Zendaya was my first celebrity crush, but you were my first crush. My mum told me when I was six I said I was going to marry you. I’m pretty sure I didn’t know who Zendaya was back then. You were first and I’m going to put you first before the fame. You’re my favorite person for the longest time and there’s no way I could stop remembering you. I love acting but I won’t let it change us. I’m still going to be the same Tom at heart. I’ll still call you up randomly to talk about my dreams and I’ll complain about water pressure to you. It’s going to be me still. I’ll be here for you even across the world. You don’t have to be scared,” Tom says squeezing your hand.

Maybe you guys were always on the same page, too scared to admit it. He understood the fear you had and how irrational you could be. He’s comfort to you, but he’s always much more. He’s the genuine guy that holds your heart. It’ll be safe with him. He’s never let you down before. You let out a breath, getting rid of the fear with it. You refocus your mind onto the one thing he said. The thing that made you flush with color. “You said you were going to marry me when you were six?”

Tom blushes a little, but he doesn’t shy away. “Mhm, never thought you would like me back. I didn’t want to change things between us because I like us driving around and the, the um-“

“Familiarity?”

Tom smiled, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s it. The familiarity of you, I didn’t want to scare you away. I like you a lot, swooning over you since I was a young.”

“Are we going to be okay then?” You said with a whisper. “I didn’t screw us up?”

“You could never mess us up.”

Tom smiles and leans back into his chair, your hand in his. There was the sense of serenity that fell over, it was the kind that makes you feel safe and nothing was wrong with the world. It was the kind that reminded you everything would be okay with someone you loved. It was the kind that swayed people to sleep after late night conversations to whisper sweet dreams in people’s head. When you woke up, you found yourself in the car. His hand was in yours and the sunrise was painting a masterpiece in the sky.

mutualsssss: @theamazingspiderlingg @hollandsosterfield @honeyccoated @tomshufflepuff @tomhollandspideys @poetrypeter @princeofsassgard @marvelousmorales

[the-amazing-spider-bi]

Prompt: Write a scene about the Hargreeves as children, please! (Vanya is my favorite, please include her too)

hi anon!! thank you so much for prompting me anon that is so so so nice!!!!i almost had no idea what to write until i remembered that the Hargreeves canonically went to school since Allison got into the soccer team and like… iconic. where’s the breakfast club au. anyway i’m not sure this is was you wanted but here it is anyway (or on ao3 if you like that better)

As Vanya and Five talked about extensively, her sitting under his bedsheets with crossed legs and a flashlight, they couldn’t understand why Dad insisted on making them attend middle school. 

He insisted even though he didn’t approve on any of their friendships with the other kids - not Five and Vanya’s, of course, who had no friends because Five didn’t like people and Vanya was as painfully shy as she was terrible at small talk, but the others who were better than them at talking to people. He insisted even though Pogo, Grace and he could certainly teach them better than any of the people employed there. He insisted even though all the parents kept protesting due to that time a supervillain tried to murder them in their Algebra class and ruined everyone’s grade on their finals. (Five thought they were just bad at Maths. Vanya stuck through the worst of it and got a passing grade. God, he got a B+, and he was fighting the supervillain for, like, half the exam.)

Dad, of course, didn’t care much for soccer parents’ opinions, or activities for that matter - he had never been to any school event in his life, which the other parents disapproved of in hushed tones in between glasses of mimosa. In his own words, their kids were no more unsafe from supervillains than from lone gunmen and it wasn’t like the government was doing anything about the later, so why should he? The world was dangerous, and you could die any day, they should just get on with their lives, pay for some self-defense classes for their brats, some Maths tutoring while they were at it, and stop bothering him.

And that was how they got stuck in assembly, which was the single most useless thing on Earth, in Five’s opinion. (Vanya had started listing useless things to pass the time as they ignored the speech in front of them: man’s tailbone, mosquitoes leaving bites when they sucked your blood, ties, itchy sweaters, sporks. Five only corrected her accurateness for some of those.)

So it was here, in the middle of the hall, as everyone else in school sat there on uncomfortable folding chairs that made Five’s back hurt like an old man’s and pretended to pay attention, Klaus gasped dramatically and pointed at Vanya. 

That in itself was not an unusual occurrence: Klaus, after all, did everything in a dramatic way, and was known to be rude to his siblings, and so Five decided to do what he did best and ignore him. 

Klaus, on the other hand, would not let himself be ignored.“Five!” he called out.

“That’s my number, yes,” Five answered, refusing to turn around, and Vanya hid her smirk by ducking her head.

“Five,” Klaus insisted, and he grasped his hand. Five stole it away quickly, because his siblings and him were twelve now, and they didn’t do silly things like holding hands, like babies. 

Klaus pouted and tugged at his sleeve and repeated: “Fiiive.”

“This could go all afternoon, you know,” Vanya pointed out, still pretending she was not smiling. She was right, of course. Vanya often was, and this was why she was his favorite. 

In that case, she was especially more so than usual, since they were hiding in the back of the room pretending to listen to some weird lady with homemade puppets who had been invited to the assembly for mysterious purposes. Allison was on another corner of the room openly laughing with some of the other girls, but no one was going to bother her for not listening, because she was class president and popular and also could make people do whatever she wanted anyway. Luther was sitting behind her and falling asleep on Diego’s shoulder, about five minutes away from being violently shoved away - Five was watching them with riveted eyes waiting for the inevitable disaster, and Vanya pretended to think he was being terrible but also watched as if she was at the movies.

Klaus, on the other hand, was sitting with Ben right behind them, and not content with being quiet until the lady stopped talking about bullying and the dangers of cliques.

“She is right, you know,” Klaus pointed out, useless. “I am nothing if not persistent. In fact, one could say this is my real power right here.”

“Being a pain in the ass?” Five supplied, enjoying a little the way Vanya squirmed uncomfortably at the swear word. She was such a goody-two-shoes.

“Yes. That’s how I beat the Magician, you know - I just kept talking and talking and talking and talking and-”

“He threw you out?”“No, actually, he tried to kill me and set off his own trap, but you know,” Klaus shrugged. “Anyway, as I was, in fact, saying,” he inhaled before bellowing: “Fiiiii-”

Vanya clamped a hand over his mouth fast, shushing him in panic. The teacher shot them a dark look. Five did his best to look innocent (unconvincingly), and she froze like a deer in headlights, sheepish as she almost always looked. Klaus didn’t even care, and instead licked Vanya’s hand, prompting a disgusted eww and her taking it off and pouting as she wiped it on her blazer. She didn’t punch him, because she was Vanya and she didn’t shove her siblings nearly as much as they shoved each other, so Five took it upon himself and kicked his chair. The teacher decided to move on. A wise woman. 

“Stop being a jerk, Klaus,” Ben said absently, turning the next page on his book. He had taken it out about five minutes into the speech and had not been reprimanded by any teacher, because he was everyone’s favorite, and rightfully so, but still - unfair.“

Thank you so much for the help, Number Four,” Five said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.”

“What did you want to tell us, Klaus?” Vanya said in a whisper that was very much like a plea.

Klaus pouted. “He’s not even listening to me.”

“When am I ever?” Five said before he added when Vanya narrowed her eyes at him: “What is up with you then, Klaus?”

“Loads of things,” Klaus said most unhelpfully. “I have a very fascinating life and I’m full of insights.”

“No he doesn’t,” Ben interrupted.

“What do you know about it, tentacle boy?” Klaus snapped, but Ben only smirked. “Anyway, I was thinking-”

“Dangerous pastime,” Five said. Vanya chuckled quietly.

“-because, you know, I was sitting right behind you, and I was trying not to pay attention to creepy puppet lady because I met her eye and I swear to god she winked at me-”

“In your dreams, maybe,” Ben quipped. 

“-which is scandalous since I’m saving myself for our Lord and savior Jesus Christ, thank you very much. Who are they even letting into our schools these days? God, everything is falling apart. Anyway, as I was saying… What was I saying?”

Vanya rolled her eyes so deeply Grace would warn her about getting stuck like this, and Five tried not to laugh at the face she made.

“Yes! Five. Right,” Klaus began again. “I was looking at your backs, and, lo and behold! You finally grew taller than her. Hurray! Can I get some applause for our little brother over here? I feel like we should applaud.”

Five turned to Vanya so fast he might have gotten whiplash and - for once, Klaus wasn’t lying. He was taller than her, for the first time since forever. Not that Five cared about petty business like that, except for how he did and he couldn’t shake the elation as his sister glanced up and down at him and grimaced in displeasure. (She used to be taller than all of them before they turned ten and Luther, Diego, Allison and Klaus started outgrowing her. Five and Ben still trailed behind. It was becoming embarrassing.)

Even then he just shrugged lazily and said: “Yeah, and?”“Come on, you can’t pretend you’re not happy about it.”

“Unlike you, Klaus, I don’t care about your nonsense, because I’m not a baby.”

“We’re literally all the same age,” Vanya pointed out. 

“I was obviously talking about a metaphorical baby.”

“Well, you’re a metaphorical jerk,” Klaus said, trying very hard not to sound whiny even though he totally was.

“Oh, that’s very clever-”

“Guys,” Vanya complained. “If you don’t stop talking so loud the teachers are going to yell at us-”

“So what? What are they gonna do? We saved this city, like, three times,” Klaus said, propping both his arms behind his chair lazily and starting to rock it. 

“I didn’t,” Vanya said, voice very small and entirely too bitter for a twelve-year-old.

“I’m so sorry, but that sounds like a you problem,” Klaus said, shrugging. 

At that, Vanya looked down and bit her lip and sat very still on her chair. Ben elbowed their brother in the ribs with a disapproving frown, which was probably meant, as Five would reason later, to prompt him to apologize to Vanya for hurting her feelings so callously, but only made him yelp very loudly in the middle of the hall and fall from his rocking chair in a tumble of lanky limbs. 

Somewhere on the other side of the room a very similar yelp and a very similar tumble of limbs echoed just as much as Luther was violently pushed off Diego’s shoulder and woken up from his nap.

The silence that followed this was very, very heavy on Five’s back, the only sound Vanya popping open her pill bottle - then looking up at Five with a gasp and a guilty look. Maybe it was because of the other kids craning their necks to see Klaus and Luther lying on their back in improbable positions. Maybe it was the puppet lady pausing her show for them. Maybe it was the calm before the teacher fell down on them with a hand too tight on their biceps and a snarl. 

Anyway, even as their teachers berated them with threats of detentions they wouldn’t dare give out, Five couldn’t help feeling giddy. He was, after all, finally taller than Vanya.

Of course, years and years later, he would learn that Vanya would be forever stuck at her twelve-year-old height and that every one of them would grow up to tower over her. Still. It was nice at the time. 

[justlookfrightened]

Puppy steps

This is to fill a prompt from @tibean2992. I have one more prompt I’m working on, but if anyone has any other zimbits prompts, please send them along!

Also, it got pretty long, so most of it is under a cut.

It hit Bitty’s nose first.

He unlocked the door to the condo, picked up the reusable grocery bags from his feet and shouldered the door open and was assaulted by the smell.

He groaned and put the bags in the kitchen, barely pausing to note the empty dog crate that stood there, and followed the odor to the guest bedroom. Whose rug was now decorated with a literal steaming pile of crap.

Lord.

“Belinda!” he called.

No response.

He went looking and found the dog sitting in the master bedroom, facing the door, just waiting for him. Her brown eyes were warm and her forehead was furrowed slightly, as though she was worried or confused.

Bitty forced himself to take a deep breath. Through his mouth.

Seeing that the dog (puppy, he reminded himself) did not appear sick and was not currently engaged in act of destruction helped him calm down, and he remembered not to scold the dog for something that probably happened, what, maybe 15 minutes ago? The crap was still steaming after all.

Instead, he tried to keep his tone neutral as he said, “And just what were you doing loose in the house by yourself? Did you use those big eyes on Jack and make him feel too guilty to put you in your crate before he left for practice? I swear, I am going to have to have a talk with that boy. Again. For now, let me clean up and we can take it right to the dumpster when we head out for our walk.”

Belinda, with her gangly legs and broad shoulders, heard the word walk and popped up, butting the backs of his legs with her head as he fetched paper towels, a scrub brush, a plastic bag and disinfectant.

“Nope, you’re just gonna have to wait, Belly,” Bitty said.

He cleaned up thoroughly, then put on his coat and hat and snapped Belinda’s pink harness around her chest and shoulders. Jack hadn’t looked thrilled at the choice, but Bitty overruled him.

“First, it looks great against her black coat,” he’d said. “Second, she’s a six-month-old, obnoxious, rambunctious pit bull, Jack, and she’s not going to do anything but grow. You know she’s sweet and affectionate, and I know she’s sweet and affectionate, but a lot of people will look at her and think she’s vicious just because.”

Belinda had been with them for three months now, and mostly she was doing fine, Bitty thought. But she still couldn’t always be trusted alone in the house, and she would eat anything put in front of her, and some things not put in front of her. Bitty’s work at training her to walk nicely on her leash was paying dividends, at least most of the time, and by now, nearly all the people in the building were happy to see her.

If only Jack were as easy to train.

******************************

The scent of dinner bubbling on the stove drew Jack into the kitchen as soon as he got home. Bits was at the counter cutting apples while the chicken stew simmered and Belinda sat at his feet, looking up to make sure she caught any pieces that happened to fall.

Jack stepped up behind Bitty and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Smells good,” he said. “But isn’t it a little late to start a pie?”

“Hush your mouth,” Bitty said. “It’s never too late to make pie.”

“I guess I was hoping it was for dessert,” Jack said, stooping over to scratch behind Belinda’s ears. “How are you, baby girl?”

Bitty harrumphed and said, “It is for dessert, and it’s not pie. I’m making a cobbler than can bake while we’re eating.”

“Sounds good,” Jack said. “Want me to set the table?”

“You didn’t ask why I’m making cobbler instead of pie,” Bitty said.

“Ok, Jack said. “Why cobbler instead of pie?”

“Because I didn’t have time for pie because when I got home from the market, Belinda was not in her crate,” he said. “She was in our bedroom. The pile of poop she left was in the guest bedroom.”

“Merde,” Jack said.

“Precisely,” Bitty said. “I had to clean the rug, and air the place out, and now you don’t get pie. What will it take to get you to put Belinda in her crate? She’s safer there, where there are no wires or anything to chew on, and she doesn’t have accidents there.”

“I know, I know,” Jack said. “But she doesn’t like it, and I was gone all last week, and I don’t want to be the guy who just locks her in the cage. Besides, you were only going to be out another hour or so.”

Bitty shook his head and muttered something Jack couldn’t quite hear, although he thought he heard the word “children.”

“She doesn’t like being separated from us,” Bitty said. “If you’re going out anyway, she’ll settle right down and go to sleep. Which she also needs to do because she’s still a growing girl. If you leave her out, she finds ways to amuse herself, and she gets herself in trouble, Jack. She could hurt herself.”

When Jack went down the hall toward the bedrooms to change, he detected the faint scent of disinfectant.

“Belinda, ma belle, you can’t do that,” he said to the dog, who was following him. “If you can’t behave, you are going to have to stay in the crate when you’re alone. Bitty’s right.”

Bitty was usually right, Jack reflected. But they had agreed on adopting Belinda.

It had been Jack’s idea to get a dog. He was gone so much during the season, and Bitty spent so much time on his own. Bitty had gotten a job as a communications and marketing consultant for non-profits, but it was based in Boston and Bits worked four days a week out of the condo. He was also putting together a cookbook for a small publisher – Jack’s parents had taken to promoting Bitty’s vlog on their own social media accounts, his subscription numbers had soared, and people started taking notice. Bitty hadn’t gotten any advance on the book, but he’d been thrilled to have an actual publisher interested.

Jack was glad things were going well for Bitty, but Bitty's commitments meant that most of his social interaction when Jack was gone was over the internet. Sure, sometimes he took his laptop to the coffeeshop on the corner, but Bitty should have more regular company.

And Bitty had been eager once Jack suggested getting a dog. He’d pulled up the websites for a few local shelters that very evening, and started reading up on their adoption requirements.

Jack had been just as excited; he’d always wanted a dog when he was growing up, but his mother had always said no because they all traveled so much, and he was too young to take proper care of a pet anyway. Then he’d gone into Q and lived in a billet and, well, it was just never right. But now he was settled, and Bitty was there, and it seemed like the perfect time.

A week of so after they started looking at the websites, a young beagle mix appeared on one of them. He was adorable, not tiny, but not too big, active. And his name was Stanley. It seemed like fate.

But Jack had a roadie, and the shelter required everyone in the household to come in to adopt a dog, so they couldn’t go in for another five days. The day after Jack got home, Bitty checked the website while Jack was at morning skate, and Stanley was still listed as being available. When they arrived and asked about him, though, they were told that he had gone home with his new family only an hour earlier.

Jack was ready to leave, but Bitty wanted to walk through the dog room “just to see.” At that point, Jack had been pretty sure they’d be leaving with a dog.

The first one Jack’s eyes lit on was a smaller mutt, probably part spaniel, with a white and light brown coat and spritely way of jumping up on the door of her cage. Bitty looked longingly at a husky with dramatic coloring and icy blue eyes, but he dragged his eyes away when Jack said, “Those dogs need miles of walks or runs each day. Not really made for a condo.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “And imagine the shedding.”

Then they had seen Belinda, curled on the low bed in her cage with a stuffed toy between her legs. When they made eye contact, her brow had furrowed and she got up and came to the door. As soon as Bitty put his hand down, she licked his fingers and Jack had asked the shelter volunteer to get Belinda out so they could play with her.

She’d been theirs ever since. But really, Jack thought, Bitty’s. Bitty couldn’t sit on the couch without Belinda curling up against his side, usually snuffling at his neck or ear before she settled down. Jack knew she slept on his side of the bed when he was gone. She liked Jack, he knew she did, but if Belinda had an alpha, it was Bitty.

Jack went back to the kitchen and laid the table while Bitty slid the cobbler in the oven and pulled the salad from the fridge.

Then Jack poured water for both of them while Bitty carried the stew to the table. They both sat down, and Jack felt Belinda lie down under the table, her head on his foot.

“You’d best not be planning to feed her under the table,” Bitty said.

“A bite of chicken won’t kill her,” Jack said.

“No, but it will make her try to wheedle food out of every person who sits at our table. Do you want her doing that to Tater, or to your parents?”

“They wouldn’t mind,” Jack said.

“Mine would,” Bitty said. “If they ever visit. It’s like Coach says about his boys: It’s easier to teach them good habits to start than break bad habits later.”

Jack didn’t quite know how to answer that, but he didn’t have to. Bitty looked down at his plate and up again. “Oh my Lord,” he said. “I just quoted Coach.”

Jack chuckled. “I know,” he said. “But he’s right, so I guess you are too. I just want her to like me.”

“She does like you,” Bitty said.

“But she’s always with you,” Jack said. “And she’s really attached to you, which is good, but …”

Jack stopped, because it sounded silly to even say it. He just wanted to be part of it, instead of like an outsider.

“But what?” Bitty asked. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just, you two spend so much time together,” Jack said. “She looks at you like you created roast beef. You talk to her in that baby voice and let her lick your face all the time.”

“Are you jealous?” Bitty asked. “Really? You’re the one who wanted a dog in the first place. And I’m the one who walks her and feeds her and cleans up after her and tries to train her. Of course she’s attached to me! And of course I’m attached to her – she’s adorable! Have you seen her?”

“I know, Bits,” Jack said. “And I’m glad. Really. Never mind me. I’ll be better.”

Bitty was looking at him.

“No,” he said. “I mean, yes, by all means put her in her crate instead of leaving her loose, and if you want to give her a treat, do it away from the table. But don’t just act like how you feel doesn’t matter. I know you care about her just as much as I do. And you did so much research before we brought her home – if it wasn’t for that article you found I’d have had no idea dogs can’t have grapes. I guess it’s just the way it is right now – but your season will end eventually, and then we can divide up the work a little more. It’ll be fine.”

Jack started eating in earnest then, finally feeling like he’d been absolved of his guilt. After dinner, Bitty went into the office to get a little work done while Jack cleaned up the kitchen, and gave Belinda a few morsels of chicken in her dish.

Later that night, once he had crawled in bed next to Bitty, once Belinda had hopped off the bed and lay on the blanket near the bedroom door, Bitty curled into his side and kissed his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I made you feel left out,” Bitty said. “Tell you what. You can have all the … affection … you want from me. Right now or whenever. And if you need some bonding time with Belinda, well, you can have the early morning walk tomorrow.”