#so i said this would be up saturday and i posted it on ao3 four minutes before midnight so im counting that as a win

[ladykailitha]

Across a Crowded Room

*grumbles* I can't believe this IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE CUTE AND SHORT! Not only has it gotten a little angsty in middle there, it's about to breach 10k words. And I'm not even CLOSE to the ending.

The fuuuucckkkkk.

I was meant to be working on other things. Like editing a story to be beta'ed so I can put it on AO3 for you all, extending Batshit soulmates because I was skipping over too much, and wrapping up Glitters.

Guess who did none of those things because this story consumed my soul?

ME!!!

I will be posting this on Saturday as it's not one of my regular WIPs.

Enjoy. *sniffs* I guess.

Summary: Modern, no monsters AU. After they all graduated from high school the older teens drifted to other parts of the country. And while Steve and Eddie have made short trips to see each other, usually with the whole, they really haven't spent much time in the same room in years.

That all changes when Eddie is able to spend a week in Chicago with Steve and Robin.

But when Eddie sees Steve for the first time in years, he gets scared. Will have the courage to walk across that crowded room to be with Steve?

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Eddie hadn’t seen Steve in years. After high school when they became friends through mutual parenting of six absolutely terrifyingly smart teenagers, they kinda went their separate ways.

Steve and Robin had gone to Chicago for college and Eddie and his band had gone further west to LA to try and make it as metal artists.

This is was the first time in a really long time that their schedules lined up. They talked all the time. Friends on all their social media. But they hadn’t seen each other since they said goodbye in Steve’s driveway four years ago.

Eddie was standing at the bar entrance where he was supposed to be meeting Steve, just staring at him.

God, he had been gorgeous in high school. Because of course he was. Captain of the basketball team, co-captain of the swim team, and the baseball team’s best hitter.

But he looked even more so now.

His honey colored, wind tussled hair had grown out a bit. A lock of hair flopped devastatingly in front of one of his hazel eyes. He had filled out some, once thin and wiry, now deep chested and toned. Even in the winterscape hell that was Chicago, Steve’s skin was warmly tanned.

He was laughing with a group of people and never had Eddie felt more out of place in his life, and that was saying something. He had been dropped off at his Uncle Wayne’s when he was twelve. Been nicknamed the “Freak”. And had always been flamboyantly himself: a big, gay, metal loving geek.

Eddie was about to turn around and go back the way he came when a familiar voice called his name.

He turned around and there was Robin Buckley. Steve’s platonic soulmate and best friend.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Did you just get here?” she asked brightly.

Eddie nodded. “My flight was delayed three times. I haven’t even been to my hotel yet.”

Robin winced. “That sucks.” She looked at him more closely and he gulped. “You weren’t thinking of cutting and running were you?”

“Me?” Eddie said, dramatically clutching his hands to his chest. “I would ne–”

She raised an eyebrow at him, effectively shutting him up.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Eddie said mournfully, “until I got here. He just looks so happy. He doesn’t need someone like me coming back into his life like a wrecking ball.” He pulled out his phone and waved it at her. “Once I can get this charged, I’ll message him and tell him my flight got canceled and that’ll we’ll reschedule.”

She looked at his phone and then back up at him. “What happened to your phone?”

“My charging cable port snapped,” he grumbled. “And it died after the first delay.”

Again she winced in sympathy.

“You’re in love with him,” she said, “aren’t you?”

Eddie sighed and looked back over at Steve. One of his friends must have told a joke because Steve was laughing so hard his eyes were mere slits. He looked back at her and he sighed.

“The sky is blue, Midwestern winters suck,” he muttered, “and I’m in love with Steve Harrington.”

Robin rolled her eyes, then she got this calculating grin on her face.

“Uh oh.”

“I’ll tell you what,” she said slyly, “you let me do a little experiment with a small wager. If I win, you man up and tell him how you feel. If you win, you can tell him that your trip has been cut short and you have to go back in a couple of days and blow out his life again.”

Eddie pursed his lips and looked at back at Steve.

“What’s the experiment?” he asked.

Robin jumped up and down with glee. “I’m going to text Steve that I found you. You aren’t going to take your eyes off him the whole time. Then when I’m done, I’ll show the conversation.”

He licked his lips. “And what’s the wager?”

“You think he’s happier without you,” she said. “If that’s true, he’s not going to show a lot of excitement. He’ll be relieved and happy that you’re here, but no real enthusiasm. Right?”

Eddie just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I know he’s going to flip out,” she continued with that sly grin. “He’s going to be jumping up and down and looking around for you, trying to find you in the crowd.”

“What if it’s somewhere in the middle?” Eddie asked honestly.

Robin cocked her head to the side. “Then you stay the full week and suss him out.”

Eddie let out a long sigh. “All right. You’re on.”

“Good!” she said. She grabbed him by the arms and moved him a little. “There. Now he won’t be able to spot you immediately.”

He had let himself be manhandled because he had long since learned that Robin could and would kick if he didn’t do what she wanted.

“Now, keep your eyes on Steve.”

Eddie scoffed. “Easiest thing in the world.”

Robin snorted and got out her phone.

He really wanted to look over her shoulder to see what she was typing because he was eaten up with curiosity about what she was sending Steve. But he did as he was told. He kept his eyes on the most beautiful boy in the world.

Steve pulled out his phone and then his head snapped up. He looked around excitedly. He started flapping his hands and talking animatedly with his friends. Eddie watched as he smoothed down his hair and wiped his hands on his jeans. He pulled out a breath mint out of his pocket and ducked his head when his friends obliviously teased him for it.

He looked over at Robin in shock.

“What the hell did you tell him?”

She turned her phone around and he read their conversation.

-Guess who I found by the door looking like a lost puppy?

-He’s here?

-Eddie’s here?

-Where?

-Why didn’t he text me? :(

-lol

-Calm down, I’ll bring him to you.

-The idiot’s phone died and his charger broke.

-I can’t be calm, how can I be calm? He’s here! He’s finally here.

“Oh.”

The little frownie face at the end of the “Why didn’t he text me?” message did Eddie’s heart in.

He cleared his throat. “Um...if I were to, say, I don’t know, go over there and kiss his lights out, would I get hate crimed?”

Robin laughed. “No. And there is no one in his friends that would be nasty about it either.”

Eddie nodded. “Lead the way.” He bowed and waved his hand dramatically so that she would go first.

“Nerd.”

Eddie cackled as he followed her to the table. Steve was on his feet the instant he saw him.

Eddie was a weak man. That had been pretty well established tonight. So he thought he could be excused when he picked Steve up by the waist and swung him around.

“Eddie!” Steve giggled.

Robin scoffed. “Gays are so disgusting.”

“Says the lesbian,” Steve said when Eddie had put him down.

“Lesbians are a different flavor of gay and thereby aren’t disgusting,” she said with a half shrug like it was a truth universally acknowledged or some shit.

He shook his head and turned back to Eddie, who had yet to let go of his waist. “I missed you, too, Eds.”

“I missed you so much, Stevie,” Eddie whispered back.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, hopeful.

“Yeah,” he breathed and lifted Steve’s chin. He pressed their lips together and suddenly Steve’s crowd of friends erupted into cheers.

Steve broke the kiss and stared up at Eddie in awe.

“Wow.”

Eddie giggled. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, more than a little breathless. “You’re stuck now. That’s how I want you to greet me every time now.”

Eddie’s face split with a large grin. “You got it, baby.”

Robin cleared her throat. “May I remind you two that we are in fact in public?”

Eddie and Steve looked over at her and then back at each other. Robin isn’t sure who started it, but soon they both were laughing like children.

Steve introduced him to the small group of friends.

There was a sofa near the table Steve’s friends were sitting at so Eddie sat down there, so Steve could cuddle up on his side.

“How long are you in town for?” A punky Asian girl with pink and purple streaks in her short cropped hair asked. Steve had introduced her as Maria Nguyen. They had a couple of classes with each other.

Steve looked at Eddie as if he had been wondering the same thing.

Eddie chuckled. “That’s the surprise I was telling you about, darlin’. Me and the boys got a record deal and their headquarters and studio is right here in Chicago. So I will be moving to the fair Windy city.”

“You’re staying?” Steve asked, his voice rising with excitement.

“I’m in town for about a week to look for apartments and shit,” Eddie amended. “Then I will move here at the end of the month.”

“Holy shit!” Robin said, glaring daggers at him.

Steve picked up on the latent hostility, but Eddie shook his head and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.” He pressed a kiss to Steve hair.

“You have a band?” a large young man with freckles and braces asked. He had red hair and wire rimmed glasses. Steve said his was Jason, Justin...Jarren! That was it.

“Sure do!” Eddie said. “Corroded Coffin. Me and my three closest friends, besides Buck and Stevie here, have been out in LA playing our hearts out.”

“Buck?” Maria asked, rearing her head back.

“Buckley!” Eddie explained.

“So what kind of music do you play?” Jarren asked, leaning forward, very interested.

“Metal.”

Maria snorted. “Like that’s Steve’s least favorite kind of music.”

Steve sat up. “It is not! There are all sorts of music I don’t like. Metal can be good. It’s just the screamo shit I can’t stand. Corroded Coffin isn’t like that.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “Hell, Steve would put pop music below metal and you know how much he loves Tears for Fears.”

Eddie groaned. “I still can’t believe of all the 80s bands out there to be your favorite you pick Tears for Fears!”

“What? They’re great.”

“Stevie, darlin’, love of my life,” Eddie said sweetly. “You cannot honestly tell me that their version of ‘Mad World’ is better than Gary Jules.”

“Wait?” Jarren said. “They did a cover of ‘Mad World’?”

Steve shook his head. “They sang it originally. Here let me show you.”

He pulled out his phone and handed it over. Robin, Maria, and Jarren huddled around the phone as they watched the video for it.

“That was trippy as hell,” Maria said, handing the phone back to Steve.

“I know, right?” Eddie said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “He does have a point regarding this one song. The original version is too fast for what the song is about.”

Eddie cackled with glee.

“I still maintain that Shout, Head Over Heels, and Everybody Wants to Rule the World are absolute bangers,” Steve huffed.

Eddie kissed his cheek and Steve blushed.

“Wait!” Jarren said, “Do my eyes deceive me or is Steve Harrington, the man, the myth, the legend, blushing?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not that again. I don’t believe it was ever a thing.”

Eddie sat up on the sofa, too and looked Steve in the eye. “What’s this, babe?”

“Stevie here made a girl come just by talking to her,” Robin said with a grin.

Eddie licked his lips slowly and Steve blushed deeper. “Did you now?”

“No!” Steve insisted. “That was just the excuse she used for running away after I badly flirted with her.”

Maria scoffed. “Dude, I was there, you did not flirt badly.”

Eddie pulled Steve close to his side and murmured in his ear. “I fully expect the full Harrington Charm experience, sweetheart.” His voice dropped really low. “Because I bet you could make me come just from the sound of your voice.”

Steve’s eyes went wide and he ducked his head.

Maria shook her head. “I can’t believe that King Steve got out rizzed by this swagless loser. How in the hell?”

“Maria!” Jarren hissed. “He does not look like a swagless loser. You take that back. He’s cool.”

Eddie turned to Steve. “Looks like you’re going to have to be the tie-breaker, sweetheart.”

“How’s that?” Steve asked. “Robin hasn’t said anything yet.”

“Ah, but that’s because I think I’m cool,” Eddie said holding up one finger, “and I know that Robin would vote for swagless loser.”

Robin snorted. “Damn right I would.”

“So it’s girls verses guys,” Steve said thoughtfully.

Jarren snorted. “More like lesbians verses the gays.”

Steve cocked his head to the side and then nodded.

“I dub thee my really cool metalhead geek!” Steve said solemnly.

Everyone’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Babe...” Robin said. “Did you just go down the middle of the road to avoid an argument?”

Steve batted his eyelashes at her. “Maybe...”

Eddie huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting. Steve leaned forward and kissed the bottom of his jaw.

“How about my very cool, gorgeous, metalhead boyfriend?” he murmured softly.

Eddie looked down at him eyes wide. “Holy shit, you mean that?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie swiftly brought their mouths together and kissed Steve deeply. “That is acceptable.”

Steve giggled.

The night past in good company and drinks.

Eddie had duck out early because he still had to check into his hotel, but he kissed Steve goodbye and left with a spring in his step.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Also, also. I forgot to mention that the title comes from a song by Counting Crows called Long December. So in my head I was singing, It's been so long since you came to (Indiana) I think you should!

Never mind they're in Illinois and the actual lyric is California.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

[writingshushf1]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A man after midnight)

Summary: The one where you are Sebastian Vettel’s engineer through out the years, never realized that maybe, the older man - now newly divorced, had developed feelings for you.

Rating: +16

Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation, adult (sorta) language, daddy issues.

Word count: 3.5k

Note: since I started this new blog, I’ll post all my ao3 f1 fanfics here! So this is also available in my ao3. btw: this one-shot is inspired on a tik tok by read_between.the_wines (she has really good prompts and I’ll use them a lot!)

masterlist

Sebastian Vettel. Four-time world champion. Has raced for BMW Sauber, Toro Rosso, Red Bull, Ferrari and now, Aston Martin. German. Simple family. Reserved. And now, recently divorced.

That news hit the websites, just the way he didn't want it. They had not been together for a few months, but he had not commented for the safety of Hanna and her children. However, the media always managed to take little pieces of his privacy and spread them to the world.

His closest friends already knew and so did his team, but they all kept quiet about it, they knew him.

A couple of curious eyes were looking for the German at the Aston Martin hospitality. They were friends, the girl might be 7 years younger than him, but they always got along great, especially when she needed to adjust his car. Sebastian was always her safe harbour, since when she joined Ferrari in 2019, only 25 years old and with an impressive knowledge about what he was doing, so when he decided to switch teams, she didn't even hesitate to go for it. The German, on the other hand, he's always had a different take on her - of course, at first it was a platonic feeling, a friendship he never thought he could find, until the day he found himself falling for her. Perhaps, it was the girl who - unknowingly - ended up ending the couple's relationship.

Unfortunately, he knew very well that she felt nothing for him beyond a sweet friendship.

When the woman found him, her expression of curiosity turned bittersweet; she was worried about his condition, sitting on the floor of his driver's room with his hands on his head. She took a few steps and crouched in front of him, touching his arm lightly. At first, the man flinched, but as he smelled the sweet scent of peach perfume, he accepted the caress, letting out a tearful sigh.

"Hey..." She whispered as soon as he lifted his face. He was red, hair messy and beard longer than usual.

"It's public. I'm officially a divorced man."

"They shouldn't have done that. It's cruel. Even more so that you have the girls and the little one." She said quietly. "Did you talk to Hanna after the news came out?"

"Yes... She knows it wasn't our fault." The girl cracked a smile.

"So, if she knows-let's go. Wipe your face and lift your chin. You're too good to succumb to what the media does." She stood, holding out her hand for him to take.

"What would I do without you, liebling?" he laughed, slipping his arm over her shoulder.

"I have no idea. I'm the best friend you could ever have."

…..............................................

She was sitting on top of a large metal box, Vettel beside her, looking at the tools that were on a shelf. It was Saturday after qualifying and they were fixing some technical errors with the car. Their legs wobbled as she listened to him talk about the possible problems, writing them down. As curious eyes lifted to pay attention to their driver, a guy in an Alpine t-shirt walked past them, waving at her and within seconds a silly grin was on his face.

"Someone's got a crush." Sebastian said, in his strong accent.

"Shut up!" She kicked and lightly kicked his leg. "You know I only have eyes for you." She pouted.

"Ahem, I know."

"Come on Seb!"

He only shook his head in denial, cracking a smile. Suddenly, his mobile phone started ringing frantically and he answered it without even seeing who it was, they both knew only one person had that ringtone. His voice was soft yet firm; she didn't understand German, but it sounded like they were disagreeing on something, especially that he pressed his temples with his fingers, taking a deep breath. He hung up, throwing his head back, groaning loudly.

"The little one is sick. My parents can't take the girls and neither can Hanna's parents. I'll need to bring them to the Paddock tomorrow, which I hate because people will be taking pictures."

"Britta can sort it out, can't she? She always does."

"She will. I just think it's going to be a bit weird without Hanna being here with them."

"It'll be fine. I can help you, you know I love the girls and they know I'm the coolest auntie!" She waited for him to come closer to give little slaps of encouragement on his shoulders.

…......................................................

Early Sunday morning, she had arrived and as soon as she entered the Aston Martin hospitality, she felt arms grab her legs. She cracked a smile and looked down, seeing two blonde girls with long smiles, she ran her hand over the hair of both of them, ducking down and being bombarded with love. They ran over each other's words, the sweet girls speaking a German mixed with English that could confuse anyone, however the engineer listened to them intently, with a smile on her face.

Soon, she found the father of these cuties, Vettel was playing ping-pong with Stroll for a video. The three waited away from the cameras for the German, who cracked a warm smile at the sight of them. Even though the girls were not so little anymore, he took one in each arm, walking to his garage. Soon they were distracted by other people on the team, who were loving having two adorable children there.

"They look really cute wearing those Aston clothes." The woman said, nudging him with her elbow.

"They insisted. And I can't always say no."

"So... We'll get a good result today. For them, okay?"

"Okay."

He started in P12 and until halfway through the race, he had not entered the scoring zone, which made the engineer upset. She wanted the kids to see their father happy and in a high position. They did the tyre change a bit too early, which could ruin the strategy, especially as he dropped to P15. However, he was still on a two-lap tyre when several teams started to call for a change, so he moved up positions as he felt confident enough to overtake other drivers. The girls screamed in happiness every time the number 5 car was shown on the various TVs inside the pit lane. He finished in P5 on that cold April afternoon - the girls were self-conscious about how it worked, that their father hadn't won the race, but for them, him finishing fifth where there were 20 other racers was amazing. The three of them ran to the rail, with her holding them so they could see his car very close passing by the finish line.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was conflicted, seeing her with her daughters, having fun and such a natural way, so easy and affectionate. He was trying to push that thought away, but the truth is: he had been thinking about her for a long time.

From the day she first set foot in the Ferrari, the girl hiding behind a cap bigger than her head and red polo shirt twice her size - they didn't have her dress size that week - intrigued him, from the sharp voice, ready to destroy someone in seconds, on another hand, someone so sweet it gave you cavities on just thinking about her. They hit it off at first, the feeling of finding someone who understood your craziness, who stayed late inside the garage studying, tinkering with the car, someone who spoke the language of motoring. Of course, everything was always platonic, he was a married man; she even had a long and painful crush on him, but she moved on, it was too risky to go after a committed man. She just didn't know Sebastian couldn't stop thinking about her, he had loved every bit of her since the day they ran away from the end of the season Ferrari’s party, ending up in some random bar in Maranello, laughing their drunk asses off.

He did not look at his wife the way he looked at her . Several nights, lying in his hotel bed, he would stare at the ceiling and think of calling her, hoping that she would come running and snuggle into his arms, that she would kiss his lips sweetly and spend the night by his side, that he could wake up in the morning with her naked body covered only by a thin blanket. He would touch himself thinking of her. The worst is that she couldn't do that, it wasn't even because of the age difference, she was a grown woman, but he was afraid of compromising the position of both of them - but mainly hers, within the team, it wasn't as if some didn't doubt her real ability normally.

After his interviews and PR duties, he appeared in the garage, seeing from afar the door to his driver's room open and them sleeping on the couch, covered with a duvet. In one corner, the engineer was giving a soft laugh and the older man brought his gaze to her. The girl was leaning against the wall, with a few locks of hair curled in her fingers, her face was flushed and her pupils dilated, in front of her, a tall, dark haired man wearing an Alpine t-shirt. The same man who had waved to her the night before. Internally, he was burning with jealousy, but on the outside, he just took a deep breath and cracked a smile, walking calmly over to them. The German gently touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, which made her turn her face away immediately.

"Seb!"

"Hey lieb, are you still going to want a ride back to the hotel? I'll just pick up the girls and be on my way." His tone was low in the hope that the other wouldn't hear.

"Sorry- I'm going out with Matheo. He's dropping me off at the hotel later." She left a kiss on his cheek. "See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow."

He waved to them both as he walked out with the two sleepy little girls. As soon as he turned his face, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lower lip.

The engineer left with the Alpine strategist shortly after her interaction with Vettel. Matheo quickly took her hand in his, as if to show the others who were leaving that she was his, at first she didn't mind, she was a person who liked to be touched. They were in his car, going to some restaurant she didn't know about - and he didn't make a point of telling her.

"So... You and Vettel?" His voice was soft, yet accusatory.

"We are friends. He's basically a big brother to me, when I got into Ferrari he was always my guide and listened to me, even if I wasn't one hundred percent right." She smiles as she recalls the memories. "I had a side job babysitting the girls when Seb and Hanna wanted to be romantic, at least I didn't spend it alone at the hotel."

"I get it... I thought you might have something, by the way he looks at you ."

"What? No! Seb is very concerned and he has this dad vibe that is so cute. It's not what you're thinking."

He shrugged, parking the car for them to have their supposed romantic evening.

And it was a good one. He bought her a nice dinner, then drove her to her hotel room and kissed her at the door. She brought him into the room and they had sex that night. He wasn't the best she'd ever had, but he definitely made her scream a few times - which wasn't the best idea, since Sebastian's room was next door to hers, at least the girls were going to stay with his parents. On the other side of the wall, the blond couldn't sleep properly, the noises from her room wouldn't let him be at peace. He felt anger, envy, sadness. He was the one who was supposed to leave you like that.

He hadn't slept at all. Then early in the morning he was already drinking coffee when he saw her coming downstairs, her face still a little smeared with makeup.

"Good morning!" She said as she sat down in front of him and received a tired groan in response. "What?"

"It's not easy trying to sleep when the person in the next room is loud." In the same second, she widened her eyes, quickly running her hand over her face, embarrassed that he had heard her groan.

"Sorry! It wasn't intentional. I just... I wanted to please him."

"You mean it wasn't good?" He arched an eyebrow.

"It was! It was good, but not... The best. "

"Wow." He laughed low. "So he really missed something."

"Yeah..." Her face was entirely red. "He was so nice to me all night that I didn't have the courage to tell him that I didn't.... You know, he came pretty close." She mumbled it all out.

"So no second date?"

"First, we've been going out for a few weeks and second, he may not be a knight in shining armour, but he has the potential to be someone good. And I don't want to waste that."

"'I can fix him' syndrome?" he took a sip of his tea. "So... 2000s romance movie. Or daddy issues."

"Vettel!" She couldn't hold back her laughter, putting both hands over her face, hiding it. "Blame my father for abandoning me."

The two of them couldn't control their laughter, drawing attention from a few people around.

….....................................

The engineer was in her loft, lying on the couch with some TV program on. It was half past midnight, a glass of wine in her hand. She hated spending her evenings completely alone, knowing that she couldn't just walk in the next door and her colleagues or Sebastian ready to answer it. The wind whipped against the window, it was so depressing, not a soul there to lift her out of her boredom. Until her doorbell rings. Matheo was there, with flowers. She answered in surprise and he said that refusing her request for him to come to her loft was ridiculous and he could spend even half an hour in busy London for her.

They had had a fight, he had gone out with another girl, and she thought they were exclusive - clearly a miscommunication. And the night at her apartment was post "reconciliation", only he said he wouldn't go, he couldn't stand London. She called Sebastian crying, saying that the strategist didn't care about her and that she wanted so much a hug from the older man, but he was so far away. His heart ached to hear her so destroyed, but he was even angrier when he read the message that appeared almost at one o'clock in the morning, saying that the blessed man had shown up with flowers and that despite everything, he was a good person.

Matheo and she had sex again, not as amazing as the first time - and each time the quality decreased until this time. She blamed the tension of having him again, it was nothing, she could teach him. He left early Sunday morning, saying he needed to get back to see his family.

In the second week of vacation, she received a very important visit. Sebastian Vettel was knocking on her door, with a crate of beer and German sausage.

"You're no good." She said when she saw him, going into his arms in a warm hug.

Again, it was half past midnight, they were drunk. Vettel was making bratkartoffeln, while she was sitting on one of the kitchen benches, drinking beer.

"I know he was an asshole to me, but he tried to fix it. I can give it at least one more chance..."

"But what about the sex?" He looked at her.

"Still bad, but I can change that ." She cracked a damned smile.

"I bet even I could do better than him." He grumbled.

"And how can you be sure?" She asked in a suggestive tone, taking another sip of her beer.

" Because I know you. And I know what you like. " He cracked a smile, focusing on the potatoes in the pan.

"Silly." She slapped his shoulder. "But it's serious. He's good, you know? He doesn't talk about our jobs when we're together, he likes to play video games, and no, he wouldn't steal information from our car even because his team is better than ours."

"You can steal information." He said jokingly, but he was starting to get annoyed with the situation. Was it jealousy? Of course.

"It's serious, Seb. I really think I'll make it official."

"Even though you cried for two hours on the phone with me?"

"I can fix him!" She put her arms up in surrender, repeating the same thing he said to her at the hotel weeks ago.

"Daddy issues."

"You can't say anything if you're single."

"Divorced."

"Same thing."

"Depends on the perspective, lieb."

"How? I don't think so. It's only because you want to get out of the argument."

"Maybe."

"Conflit advoidance."

"Emotional needness."

"Shit." She shrugged, getting down from the countertop and putting the bottle in the trash, soon grabbing another from the fridge. As Sebastian finished the early morning snack for them, she rolled her eyes and spoke again. "But seriously, he looks like a person to introduce himself to his parents! Good job, handsome, nice, takes me to nice places.... The sex is something to improve on, but we know that's only with practice." She laughed.

Suddenly, Vettel closed his eyes and said under his breath. "Can you shut up about him?"

"Um, excuse me?" She turned her face to him, with an annoyed expression.

"Oh-oh! Nothing." He fumbles and almost knocks the sauteed bacon to the floor. "Never mind. Just-just forget it, please." He closes his eyes for a few seconds. "I'm just tired, I'm sorry."

"No! You're not tired." She drops the unopened beer bottle into the sink. "Tell me what you really think about him."

"I... I just not-" She finished putting all the food in, sighing low and leaning his lower back against the counter. "I don't want to hear about him. I don't."

"Why?"

They exchanged glances for a few seconds, in complete silence. Something clicked in the engineer’s mind, making her slowly open her lips.

"Oh my God. Are you jealous?"

He looks away from hers, fiddling with the ends of his blond strands.

"Stop! Are you-are you jealous?" Her voice was slightly shaky.

"Please." He closed his eyes, running his hand over his temples. "Please just shut up about it. Just keep it between us. Just shut up." He muttered, completely embarrassed.

He didn't realise when they got so close, but when he felt her lips almost brushing against his lobe, his breath failed him.

"Make me."

In a single motion, he put his hands on her waist, pressing her against the countertop, and then his body was against her as well. One hand went up to her face and their lips touched. At first, she didn’t kiss back, her head was processing what just happened between them. Sebastian pulled away after a few seconds, she didn’t reciprocate, ‘of course she wouldn’t, she’s in love with that Alpine douche bag’ the older man thought. Her head was full, all the suppressed feelings for him, the need to find other men to endlessly satisfy her and yet she was never satisfied, because they weren’t him. Matheo wasn’t Vettel, he never could be even one percent of what the German was.

When the blond was loosening the touch around her, the engineer finally woke from her trance, grabbing his shirt with both of her hands, pulling him back against her, connecting their lips. It was a sloppy kiss, deep and passionate, it looked like they waited years to share it - in fact, it did. Her hands were on his chest, while he embraced her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips fit perfectly, their rhythm was like no other and their tongues passed each other’s, enjoying the bitter taste of beer. It started to become sloppier, with her leg going up his waist and his body adjusting in the middle of her legs, small moans and lip bites were exchanged - maybe too many times, but they weren’t sober enough to care. The engineer’s lips lowered to his jaw and soon they were along his neck, biting, licking and nibbling spots that would be very visible next morning. Vettel threw his head back at the action, groaning her name, lowering both of his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing it.

“Bed… Bedroom.” He said, breathless.

She smiled and walked out from him, going up the mezzanine’s stairs and waiting for him. As soon as he reached her, he threw her on the bed, with a naughty smile.

“Show me… How much you know me.”

“Of course, lieb.” He kneeled on the bed, holding her shirt hem.

[f1-stuff]

kid fic 👀

Thank you for your patience, anon! Posted below is the 'prologue' of the fic. My google doc for this one is 13k words and counting, so look out for a part one on ao3 (hopefully) really soon! -> WIP game

It’s a Saturday in Melbourne when Carlos is called to the track early for a meeting with his manager and the team’s legal department.

He doesn’t think much of it - maybe it’s about some merchandising opportunity, or a special race suit for Spain. Or maybe he said some comment in an interview yesterday that he shouldn’t have, though he can’t think of what that would’ve been off the top of his head. And anyway, if that were the case, then his press officer would be there. He supposes he might be, actually.

Carlos takes his time, stopping for his usual espresso and saying good morning to any team personnel who’ve arrived as early as he has. He’s feeling optimistic - the car felt good in free practice yesterday, so he’s hopeful they can have a good weekend.

When he finally makes it to the conference room, the head of the legal department’s there, along with his cousin and manager, Caco. What makes Carlos stop in his tracks though is the television screen at the end of the room. It’s displaying a zoom call containing what can only be a room full of Ferrari legal aides and lawyers, all sitting and facing the camera with silent, somber expressions.

His eyes meet Caco’s, who’s already looking at him with an apprehensive arch to his brow, like he thinks Carlos knows the reason for this meeting. In other words, his cousin doesn’t know the reason for this meeting.

A tense, nervous energy permeates the room.

“Carlos. Take a seat,” the chief legal officer, Sabina, says, all business.

Carlos takes a seat beside Caco with trepidation, clearing his throat of sudden nerves. “What is this about?”

“Lucía Ibarra. Does this name sound familiar?”

His jerk reaction is to say ‘no.’ But he pauses, the name scratching something at the back of his memory. Lucy...

“Uh...maybe. Yes, I think so,” he amends. He knew a ‘Lucy,’ short for Lucía, years ago, and he knew her last name once upon a time, too. But it’s been a while. That, though...it sounds like it could be right. “What about her?”

“Do you know this woman?”

“I did- I mean...years ago-”

“Lucía Ibarra, twenty-six years old, living in France and working as a journalist for a small, local publication.”

France?

When he’d met her, she was living in Madrid with dreams of becoming a writer, studying toward a degree in university. She’d had a double-focus in French and journalism, so he supposes it makes sense if that’s where she’d ended up. 

Carlos feels a tickle of pride for her, but it’s buried underneath his bewilderment, as Sabina continues to list off details of a girl’s life that Carlos hasn’t seen or heard from in four or so years. A girl who Carlos had thought he would just continue to wonder about from time-to-time, who’d changed her number after...whatever they were together, so that even if Carlos had wanted to call he couldn’t.

“Carlos.”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“So you did in fact know this woman? That certainly complicates things, but no matter what, we have a plan in place.”

“A...plan-?”

“We’ve contacted your lawyer, who will join our call soon, I expect.”

Carlos meets eyes with Caco, who feels his gaze and returns it with equal dread.

“What...” He clears his throat. “What has happened to her?”

“There’s been an accident,” Sabina says, and his heart sinks. An accident? But it still doesn’t make any sense. What does this have to do with him? “We don’t have all the details. But we’re organizing a flight for you to France-”

“A flight? What- when?”

“Right after the race.”

“But- this is impossible,” Carlos insists, almost feeling like laughing, but sensing it’s the wrong time. He’s just so, completely lost by everything going on. “I cannot fly to France after the race. Japan is in two weeks.”

His race preparation will go to shit if he flies to Europe. The jetlag alone will fuck up his entire system and concentration. Not to mention the fact that he still has no fucking clue why he needs to go to France for a woman he kind of knew years ago, who he hasn’t spoken to since she told him to ‘figure out your shit’ in a hotel room in Barcelona.

He’s sorry to hear about her accident, of course. Does this mean she’s...dead? Shit. But he can’t drop everything to...attend a funeral, or whatever’s going on. And the team should know that. How do they even know about her?

“Carlos, this is non-negotiable. Now, we recognize the sensitivity of the situation, so we’ve decided you should stay for the race. But we don’t want you talking to any news outlets or making any statements.”

Statements about what, he wants to ask. But Sabina beats him to it.

“Lucía Ibarra had a child, Carlos - three years old. And apparently, she’s yours.”

[pickinglilahs]

Blackeclipse for the soul

AO3 link if you prefer to read there Part 10; Part 11; Part 12; Part 13; Part 14 CW: Dissociating/reference to Walburga's A+ parenting

Madam Rosmerta's reply came later that night.

James and Remus were sitting on the bed doing homework. Peter was in his own bed for once, already passed out behind the curtains. Regulus was just walking into the room when there was a tapping at the window.

Regulus dropped his bag and went over to let the owl in. The small tawny dropped a slip of paper into Remus' lap and flew right back out the window.

Remus unfolded it and smiled.

Dear Boys, You are more than welcome here for any event. I look forward to seeing you Saturday at 3. Love, Your Favorite Pub Owner P.S. The galleons are going toward your tab.

James, who had read over his shoulder, asked, "Do we still have an open tab?"

Remus handed the note to Regulus, who was now climbing onto the bed himself, and shrugged, "That or she's already opened us a new one."

Regulus glanced at the note before setting it on the bedside table. He had already stripped to his pants and undershirt and was settling back against the headboard beside Remus.

As Regulus summoned a book from his bag, Remus shifted to rest his head on the taller boy's shoulder. Regulus rested his own head on top of Remus' and cracked open his book.

The three stayed like that for a while, reading and taking notes. When the yawning started, James made them all put their books away and settle down.

He pulled Remus to him, head on his shoulder, leg hiked up on his hip. Regulus draped himself over Remus' back, leg slotting under Remus' and arm resting with his over James' chest.

Remus decided that he loved being squished between his boys.

~~~

Saturday came quickly.

Sirius was a force to be reckoned with as he flew about, making sure everyone told their friends and making sure all of said friends were indeed coming.

Saturday morning saw James being hauled out of bed—before dawn—and dragged to the pitch for an impromptu flying practice. Sirius had, at least, been gracious enough to deposit Kingsley in James' place in the double bed.

The three sleeping boys awoke concerned and confused at the change in sleeping arrangement, but no one claimed to understand Sirius' meddling.

So, they lent Kingsley some clothes, and the three made their way down to breakfast. Of course, as soon as they got there, Regulus was whisked away by Barty, so it was just Remus and Kingsley at the Gryffindor table.

They were soon joined by Benji and Peter, who both laughed at Sirius' morning antics. The four of them then proceeded to Hogsmeade, knowing it would be pointless to wait for James and Sirius.

They stopped in Honeydukes and Dervish and Bangs. Peter had them stop at the owl post, and both Kingsley and Remus wanted to stop at Tomes and Scrolls. They popped into the Hogshead for a bit to say hi to Aberforth, who rolled his eyes and served them sandwiches and butterbeer.

At quarter to 3, they wandered into The Three Broomsticks to find Sirius and James at the bar, chatting up Madam Rosmerta. James pulled Remus into his lap and Kingsley stood behind Sirius, arms around him and chin on his shoulder.

Rosmerta cooed at them and broke out more butterbeer. A few minutes later, they helped her push three tables together and rearrange the chairs.

They had just sat down when Regulus came in, physically dragging Barty by the ear. Evan and Pandora were wandering behind them, both clearly amused. After forcing Barty into a seat, Regulus collapsed into James' lap.

"Never again. Never again." He mumbled into James' shoulder. James wrapped his arms around Regulus without pausing his conversation with Benji.

Remus smiled and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. "All good love?"

Regulus grumbled in response.

"I got you some of those peanut butter candies from Honeydukes if you want them."

Regulus turned his face to peek at Remus. Remus smiled and reached into the bag he left under the table. Extracting a handful of the small candies, Remus passed them to Regulus and got a kiss for his efforts.

Remus smiled and turned to Pandora, who was asking about where he got his jumper.

~~~

As successful as the gathering was, it dissolved as soon as Barty tried to talk to James.

No one really knows who said what, but it ended when the two had to be forcibly separated. Bloody noses and split lips, the two were drug outside and hauled in opposite directions.

Luckily, no one else was hurt, but Madam Rosmerta was very upset with all of them. Peter, Benji, and Kingsley stayed to help clean up and put the tables back. When Sirius was sure James would be alright, he came back to help as well.

The twins had taken Barty back to the castle while Remus and Regulus took James to the Shrieking Shack. They broke in unnoticed and congregated in what was probably once a living room.

Remus made James sit on the floor and crouched down in front of him. He spelled away the blood and healed his lip. His nose wasn't broken, but he did have a slight concussion from when his head collided with the table.

Satisfied that James was going to be fine, Remus sighed and stood. He walked over to Regulus to keep from hitting James himself but quickly realized Regulus had dissociated.

"Reggie?" Remus stepped into his line of sight, but the other boy looked right through him. "Starshine? Can you hear me?"

Remus heard James shuffling to his feet behind them but waved him away.

"Regulus. If you can hear me, I need you to look at me." When there was no response, Remus switched tactics. "I'm going to touch you, okay Starshine?"

Slowly, Remus reached for Regulus' Marked hand. When there was still no reaction, Remus gently brought his hand to the Mark on his own cheek. He closed his eyes and sent Regulus as much calm and peace as he could muster.

After a long moment, Regulus came back to himself. Remus' eyes flew open as he felt Regulus grip his fingers. Remus sighed in relief when their gazes connected.

Remus kept their Marks together and asked softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Regulus looked over to James, who had sat back down, head in his hands. He looked back to Remus. Clearly, he did not want to talk about it, but he also didn't want James to blame himself either.

Remus nodded. They had been through this before with Sirius. Neither of the boys were good with one-on-one violence and no one needed to ask why.

"Jamie," Remus called. James looked up, obviously trying very hard not to cry. Remus held out a hand. "Come here Sunshine."

James slowly got to his feet and shuffled over. He took Remus' outstretched hand and was yanked into a hug.

They stayed like that for a long time; holding onto one another like a lifeline.

@starchasersunseeker @poetrypirate @niad4827 @bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430

[trensu]

Chapter 4 of HHH: Tradition! Things get tense in this one. I will be posting it on ao3 later today. The chapter is now up on ao3, if you prefer to read it there.

Billy dropped Max off after dinner on Friday. Things started out awkwardly. Max was unusually tense and taciturn. El and Dustin, however, were both determined to get Max into the spirit of things. When Eddie presented the selection he’d rented from Family Video, they let Max pick out the first movie to start their All Night Movie Marathon–named so by Dustin, though not once had he or El ever successfully stayed awake the whole night. 

Max picked The Rescuers Down Under and El picked Thumbelina. Dustin couldn’t make up his mind, so Eddie told him to decide after watching the movies the girls picked. El clung to Max the entire evening while Dustin goaded Max with his constant commentary throughout the movies. 

“I could totally shift into that bird,” Dustin bragged.

“But you are small,” El said with concern. “Would you become an egg?”

“No!” Dustin exclaimed.

Max cackled. “Dustin the egghead!”

“Shut up, I wouldn’t be an egg!”

Between Dustin’s antics and El’s sweet disposition, they had successfully gotten Max to relax and enjoy herself. It was a relief, even if it was at Dustin’s expense. It was healthy ribbing, in Eddie’s opinion; Dustin’s ego went wild when it wasn't kept in check.

Halfway through Thumbelina, they had all fallen asleep sprawled on the couch together as Eddie had expected. Eddie carefully carried Dustin to his room, and just as carefully carried Max to her designated room after. El woke up a bit when Eddie tried to move her upstairs.

“Max said I could stay in her under-the-bed” El mumbled, barely conscious.

El nearly always stayed under Dustin’s bed rather than in her own bedroom at night. Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a fear of abandonment or if it was a Monster-Under-the-Bed trait that El preferred to be under occupied beds. Either way, it was a harmless enough request.

“You don’t want to stay in Dustin’s under-the-bed?” Eddie whispered gently, just to make sure. The sludgy pool that was El quivered in a way that Eddie and the rest figured out long ago meant no.

“Billy is gone,” El said softly. “She might be lonely.”

Eddie gave El a squeeze where she oozed in his arms. She was the most endearing kid Eddie had ever met. It hurt to think about how the world at large would react if she ever revealed herself to it.

He helped her slip under the bed even though El was capable of doing it herself. She slipped under one thing only to reappear under a completely different thing on the other side of House all the time. After making sure everyone was settled in, Eddie put himself to bed, too.

Saturday started with pancakes, followed by a hike deep in the woods where human hikers wouldn’t dare venture. Max had emptied out her backpack so that El could join them without having to endure too much sun exposure. Dustin had almost immediately shifted into his mountain lion cub shape. The hike ended up being an amalgamation of chase, hide and seek, and explorer games rather than a regular hike. It easily became an all day event until tummies started rumbling mid-afternoon after they'd run out of snacks. The four of them trudged back to House to eat a late lunch. 

Eddie lamented Chrissy and Uncle Wayne being away on an outreach mission since they were the ones who could cook a good meal. He and Jeff mostly muddled through the task when they were gone. However, Jeff still avoided him more often than not over the whole Billy situation which left Eddie tasked with feeding the kiddos by himself. 

His attempt resulted in sandwiches. There was a very meaty sandwich for Dustin, who was always more carnivorous after a mountain lion shift. Dustin hadn’t yet learned to make a full set of human teeth so he gnawed at his sandwich with mismatched human and cub teeth. Meanwhile, Max, who never ate much, got a simple PB&J. She, fittingly, ate like a bird, tearing up her food into small morsels and picking at them bit by bit. 

As for El, nobody knew what kind of sustenance she actually consumed. She treated food like eating was an interesting experiment rather than a necessity, and never appeared to experience actual hunger. In this case, Max handed her bits of her sandwich that El dutifully inspected before letting it sink entirely into her sludge body. Dustin tossed strips of lunch meat in the air so El had to whip out a tendril to catch them. Eddie, who was a rebel at heart even as an adult in his thirties, let them have fun with their meal. 

After they had eaten, it was family game time.

“We can play Connect Four!” Dustin said. 

“That’s only for two players, doofus,” Max rolled her eyes at Dustin.

“Candyland? More players,” El suggested timidly.

“That game’s for babies,” Max sneered.

“But…colors are pretty,” El said in a hurt tone that made Max scowl and squirm guiltily though she made no move to apologize.

“Let’s play Mousetrap,” Eddie chimed in to defuse the tension. “That one has lots of colors, too, El, and enough little mice for everyone.”

After a few rounds of Mousetrap, they switched to Uno. When that got a little heated, they took turns playing Connect Four. Then, it was bedtime again. Surprisingly, Max suggested they sleep in the living room with sleeping bags like an indoor camping trip. Dustin excitedly agreed. El hesitated. 

“I cannot fit under the sleeping bag,” she said sadly. “I do not want to sleep upstairs by myself.”

Before Eddie could tell her she could stay under his bed so she wouldn't be lonely, Max butt in as if she had expected this.

“Just sleep under the couch. We'll pretend it's a sleeping bag. I can stay next to you,” she said.

With that decided, Eddie got them their sleeping bags and plenty of extra blankets and pillows. El slid under the couch and Max arranged her sleeping bag so close that the edge of it actually tucked under the couch a little bit. Dustin lay his sleeping bag on the other side of Max, grumbling all the while that he wanted to be next to El, too.

“Dusty,” Eddie said, knowing how much the nickname ruffled Dustin’s sometimes real feathers. He hoped to draw Dustin's grumbling to himself. “You get to have El around all the time. Let Max have a turn.”

“Yeah, Dusty.”

Eddie mentally sighed. He should've seen that one coming. With a screech, Dustin shifted to a feline shape–thankfully of the housecat variety rather than any kind of big cat–and went at Max, claws first. Eddie was well practiced at catching felines by now.

“Ope,” Edde grunted, catching Dustin mid-leap before he could get at Max. “Not today, kitty cat. We're going to play nice, so Billy will let Max come over again in the future. Got it?”

Dustin and Max glowered at each other for a few seconds longer. Finally, cat-Dustin looked away with a conspicuous yawn. He meowed loudly at Eddie. Eddie got the hint and dropped Dustin into his pile of blankets where he started to knead them. His purring was obnoxiously loud as if he were making a show of how unbothered he was about the confrontation. 

Once they were settled, Eddie came up with bedtime stories on the spot until they had all drifted off. He stuck around a good hour after the kids had gone to sleep, half to make sure they were indeed sleeping soundly and half to pick up the discarded games and to clean the dining table of any stray crumbs or sticky residue from their meal earlier. 

He checked in on the kids once more before going upstairs to his bedroom where he tiredly took off his shirt and pulled on some pajama pants. Taking care of kids all day was exhausting. He fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

Slightly before midnight, Eddie woke up to the sensation of something cool and viscous curling cautiously around his wrist that hung over the side of the bed. He muffled a sleepy groan in his pillow before dragging himself closer to the side of the bed. He reluctantly peeked over.

"El, we've talked about this," Eddie mumbled with as much patience as he could muster. "You can't go into people's bedrooms without asking. Those are private spaces so you gotta knock first."

Another tendril made an appearance to splat against one of the bedposts a couple of times. Even in his half-asleep state, Eddie’s lips twitched into a small smile at El’s efforts to abide by the rule. The tendril around his wrist gave a tiny tug, as El’s soft voice drifted up.

“Eddie,” she said. “Is a secret a lie?”

That caught his attention. Eddie sat up slowly to not to break the hold El had on his wrist. Eddie cleared his voice, partly to get rid of the roughness sleep brought but also to buy himself a few more seconds to think.

“Secrets are different from lies,” he replied, carefully. “Secrets can be good, like a surprise present, but some are bad.”

El was still under the bed though her grip on Eddie hadn’t slackened. She quietly mulled over Eddie’s words. Eddie had to bite his tongue hard to not immediately start asking questions. El needed time to process new information and rushing the process only made her nervous and confused. Eddie distracted himself by shoving the covers a round enough to bring his legs into a crisscross, hoping the movement would wake his mind up quicker.

“What is a bad secret?” El asked, voice dropping to a whisper at the words ‘bad secret.’

“Uh, it depends?” Eddie said, biding time for his brain to catch up. That was a more abstract question than Eddie was prepared to answer after being woken in the middle of the night. However, there must have been a reason El woke him up to ask him at this hour. “I think keeping bad secrets makes you feel…bad. Like sad or scared. Maybe angry, too. How does your secret make you feel?”

“...scared.”

“You wanna tell me about it?,” Eddie asked. “You can come up on my bed if you want and we can talk.”

After a moment’s hesitation, El oozed out from under the bed and squirmed on top. She gathered into a nervous puddle on the mussed sheets in front of Eddie. Eddie twirled his fingers around the tendril El had on him into a facsimile of a handhold. El looped her tendril more securely on his fingers.

“I won’t be mad,” Eddie said. “I just want to help, okay?”

“Promise?” El’s voice wobbled.

Eddie crossed his heart. “I promise.”

“Max wants to run away,” El said nervously.  

“What?” Eddie asked sharply. El rippled back, tendril going loose and pulling away. Eddie immediately wanted to smack himself. “No, no, it’s okay! I’m not mad. I’m just, uh, surprised. What did Max say, exactly?”

“She said we will get hurt. She is angry because we want to stay.”

Edde felt a jolt of fear run through him, though he did his best to maintain a calm exterior to not frighten El. Why would Max think they’d be hurt here? Had he done something to make her feel unsafe? He thought they’d been getting along well.

“Are they still downstairs?” Eddie asked. 

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. We can go and let Max know that House will keep us safe,” Eddie said. “Do you want to come with me?”

“No,” El said, seeping onto the floor and creeping back under Eddie’s bed. “I can go to under-the-couch by myself.”

Once she was fully under the bed, Eddie pulled on a hoodie. He practically tiptoed towards the living room to avoid startling the kids. As he made his way downstairs, he heard hissed, angry whispers going back and forth between Max and Dustin.

“If you use a small shape, you can fit in my backpack with El,” Max insisted. “We have to go now.” 

“No,” Dustin said mulishly. “We can’t leave Eddie and Jeff! And what about when Chrissy and Uncle Wayne come back?”

“They don’t matter,” Max said angrily. “The grown-ups don’t care! We have to go!”

“Eddie cares!” Dustin’s whisper was more of a stifled screech, mortally offended on Eddie’s behalf.

“Whatever! We have to leave, come on.” Max was also raising her voice now. Eddie walked softly into the living room.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie interrupted. “It’s getting kind of loud here. Everything alright?”

“Max is trying to make us run away!” Dustin tattled at once, pointing at Max accusingly.

“Shut up!” Max snapped back. “He’s lying! We’re playing, leave us alone.”

“Okay, sure, but you said something that made El feel a little scared. Can we talk about that first?”

Max turned to stare at El, who had crept out from underneath the couch, in betrayal.

“You told him?”

“Eddie helps,” El said meekly. 

When Max whirled around to face Eddie, she looked furious. Eddie hadn’t learned yet that when Max felt scared, she became angry and aggressive. Max stared him down, body tense.

“She’s right, Max. I just want to help. Let’s talk about this,” Eddie coaxed.

Eddie kept his posture open and his voice relaxed which he learned, through trial and error, helped calm down all sorts of situations. He also made sure to maintain a full view of all the kids and in case Max decided to try to book it. Max glared at him as if aware of what Eddie was doing.

“No,” she snapped.

“Okay,” Eddie placated. “That’s alright, but I want you to know you’re safe here. House doesn’t let anyone in that would hurt us.”

Max scoffed.

“House doesn’t do shit.”

El and Dustin gasped in shock. Eddie was suprised, too. Max had never spoken like that to him. He couldn’t dwell on that for long, though. Max had sprouted feathers again, more than he’d seen before, and her claws appeared. The skin not covered in feathers looked dried out and gray as her face twisted in fury.

“Me and Billy come here all the time and House doesn’t do anything,” Max shouted.

As she spoke, a wind started blowing through the house, not very strong at first but quickly gaining speed. Eddie hoped it wouldn’t wake Jeff, wherever he’d had House hide him this time.

“Max,” Eddie raised his voice to be heard over the wind. “Of course House didn’t do anything. You and Billy are our friends.”

“We’re not friends with monsters,” Max yelled at him, voice cracking. 

Max turned to Dustin and El. El clung to Dustin who had his arms wrapped tightly around her, El’s ichor almost dripping in his hold. Dustin, wide eyed with fear, kept looking from Eddie to Max, for once speechless. Max’s fury tinged with desperation as she begged them once more.

“You have to leave,” Max said. “I can–I can distract him.”

El trembled and Dustin jerkily shook his head. The wind was strong enough to start shoving around the furniture.

“Max, we don’t understand,” Eddie tried. “Please slow down and–”

Max screamed in frustration and launched herself claws first at Eddie, knocking him over. She tore through the hoodie like tissue paper, leaving thick gashes from his shoulder to his sternum. Eddie cursed at the pain. He took advantage of the proximity to wrap the struggling child in a firm hug. He hadn’t had to handle an out of control little Horror in a while, and he wasn’t prepared for this.

“Let me go, let me go!” Max screamed, flailing. 

“Max, please, I want to help,” Eddie said, almost desperately. 

Amidst the worry, Eddie was also confused as hell. Phoenixes were not aggressive creatures, from what he'd read and heard about them. When cornered, their most common escape tactic was a flare of flame to get enough space around them so they could fly away. They'd never simply launched themselves at a threat, and they rarely used their claws at weapons. Their strongest weapon and defense was fire. So why hadn't Max used her flames?

Another gust of wind made him nearly lose his footing. Details tumbled together in Eddie's mind. Wind. Feathers. Claws. Girl. He cursed himself for his stupidity. Max wasn't a phoenix at all. Max was a– 

“Aww, babe,” a voice from behind him said in a sadistically amused manner. “Is Maxine giving you a hard time?”

The wind stopped abruptly at the words and Max froze in Eddie’s hold.

Eddie’s first bewildered thought was: he came back early? Eddie’s second thought came on the heels of the first and made something cold trickle through his veins the longer he thought it: why did he barge in so late at night?

“Not enough of a hard time, it looks like,” Billy sneered. “What's the point of having a harpy if you don't do as you're told Maxine? You know what happens when you don't listen to me.”

Eddie turned to see behind, instinctively pulling the frozen child closer to himself. Billy stood in the foyer with a crossbow hefted on his shoulder. There were four other men entering House that Eddie didn’t recognize. All of them were wearing feathered necklaces and all too familiar shirts. Billy had cleared out a drawer for Eddie at his apartment, Eddie remembered with dread. Eddie had been so happy to fill it.

“Billy?” Eddie was ashamed of how his voice cracked on the name as he recalled Max’s words. How could he have been so blind?

“Hey, baby,” Billy said with a cruel twist to his lips. “Did you miss me?”

[sailorsplatoon]

Aaaaand here comes chapter one! From this point on I'll be posting weekly every Saturday. I'd like to quickly say thank you to everyone who showed me support on the prologue, it means so much! I'm very excited to post the first chapter!

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Read it on ao3!

(Fanfic under cut)

Acht didn’t leave the elevator. Pearl, Marina, and Agent 8 did, but not Acht. All of them had lives in Inkopolis Square, but if Acht left the Memverse they knew exactly where they’d wake up. They’d rather not think about it.

In less than a day, all three of them came back. Marina said the color palettes had parts of souls in them, which meant that they needed to take each one to the top of the spire and reconfigure it so that the person could get their soul back.

Eventually it became routine. Go up the Spire, fight Smollusk, reconfigure the palette, go back down, repeat. There was only one palette left now, besides the one in the last locker that they still needed a key for. Someone by the name of Agent 4. It didn’t really matter to Acht who’s palette they were reconfiguring. Part of them never wanted to finish. Because that would mean they didn’t have anything left to do here. Then they would have to leave. They thought that maybe Marina wouldn’t notice if they just stayed there forever. 

But it didn’t matter what Acht thought. It never mattered what they thought. Up until a few weeks ago, they didn’t think at all. 

Eight walked back in the elevator after beating the 20F boss, it was Parallel Canon again. He was quieter than usual. Though, it was kind of hard to tell what was normal Eight quiet and what was not good Eight quiet.

“Yo, Eight, you alright? You got super freaked out in the middle of the fight,” Pearl asked, hovering closer to the agent.

“I know why that boss is so familiar…” he said in a quiet voice, “That’s Agent 4.” There was a long heavy silence in the elevator, interrupted only by the ding of reaching the next floor. Neither Eight nor Pearl went out. Agent 4’s location had been unknown for some time now, though no one seemed to make an effort to find them. Everyone had assumed that they would turn up after reconfiguring their palette, so there was no need to fear. Well, up until now.

“I was worried that was the case,” Marina muttered back. “But we can’t be sure. There are a ton of enemies in the Parallel Canon boss fight. Maybe one of them is Agent 4, but maybe they’re not. And even if they are, we’ll reconfigure their palette and save them.” Eight just nodded and walked out onto the floor.

****

Eight opened his eyes. He was out of the Memverse. He’d beaten Smollusk again and reconfigured Agent 4’s palette. He had to make sure Four was okay. He dove into the grate leading to Octo Canyon. If Four was anywhere, they’d be there. Pearl and Marina saw him from their studio across the square and followed close behind.

Sure enough, Agent 4 sat on the bench outside Cuttlefish Cabin, wearing one of the helmets Marina used to send people into the Memverse. It was connected to a laptop that sat a few inches away. 

They seemed paler, almost grey. But no, Eight was just being paranoid. They were fine, they had to be fine. He rushed up to them and yanked the helmet off of their head. The first thing he noticed were large scars patterned along their face, as if they were burned. Four didn’t do or say anything, they just stared. He took them by the shoulders and shook them lightly. Maybe he could snap them out of it. Agent 4 jerked, but still didn’t look at Eight. Rather than make eye contact, they swung their fist at Eight’s temple. They had enough force to launch him back towards the grate right as Pearl and Marina came out, almost ramming into the two of them. 

“Eight, are you okay?” Marina said, helping him to his feet.

“What the hell is going on with Agent 4?” Pearl shouted as Four stood up, gripping their Hero Shot. Eight quickly did the same with his own weapon, ready to protect Off the Hook from the oncoming attack. 

“Something’s not right. Part of their soul must still be in the Memverse.” Marina pulled her laptop out of seemingly nowhere and began to type something in rapidly. Shots of ink flew by as Eight tried desperately to defend his friends without seriously hurting Agent 4.

“But wasn’t that supposed the be fixed when we reconfigured the palette!?”

“I thought so but— oh no.”

“What is it, ‘Rina!? Spit it out, what’s wrong!?”

“I think Order was able to fully greyscale Agent 4.”

“So what do we do!?”

“If we can get them back into the Memverse we might be able to use it to restore their memories, personality, an everything else. It worked for Acht with their sanitization, we can only hope it will work for Agent 4 too.”

“Okay great, how to we do that?”

“We need to get that helmet back on their head!” Marina pointed at the helmet that had been sitting on the ground.

“On it!” Pearl drew her dualies and jumped in to help Eight fight as Marina dove for the helmet. Just as she reached it, Agent 4 set off their special weapon, tenta missiles. She rushed to Pearl and Eight, opening her Bella for cover. The shield broke under the massive amount of ink, but the three of them were only hit with stray splatters and not the full force of the missile. 

Marina handed Pearl the headset and she dodge rolled behind Four, slamming the helmet on their head with an excessive amount of force, knocking them to the ground. It lit up, confirming that they had successfully entered the Memverse. 

The three of them just stood there for a moment, breathing, trying to process what had happened.

****

The elevator doors slid open. But the person who entered wasn’t Eight, Pearl, or Marina. Acht jumped in surprise. One of the enemies from the Parallel Canon boss? Why were they here? And where were Eight and the others? They’d mentioned this boss might be someone they know, what did they call them, Agent 4? It didn’t seem like they were looking for a fight, so Acht didn’t bother trying to stop them. They clicked the button for the thirtieth floor.

“This elevator only goes up one floor at a—” the elevator lurched and began to crawl upward. Acht watched as the numbers moved along. 1… 2… 3… 4… that wasn’t supposed to happen. How was that even possible? They must have hijacked the system somehow. Maybe they had special access?

Acht had never gotten a close look at the enemies in the Parallel Canon fight before. They could now clearly see that they wore the same outfit as Eight, except they had a mask with nothing on it but two glowing red eyes. Acht could just reach up and take it off if they wanted to. Maybe Parallel Canon, or… Agent 4, wouldn’t notice. As they slowly stretched their hand toward it, Agent 4 grabbed their wrist, preventing them from taking the mask.

Guess not. They let go of Acht’s wrist, letting it fall back by their side. They didn’t seem hostile at all. But they were still going to the top floor. What would happen when they made it to Smollusk? If they were under it’s control, then certainly nothing good. But they weren’t going to let Acht stop them easily. Even if Agent 4 didn’t want to go to 30F, they’d have to. They didn’t have a choice. Acht knew that feeling all too well. They couldn’t just stand by and watch. 

Acht smashed their hand into the emergency stop button and the elevator screeched to a halt. They were at 27F now, way too close for comfort. The doors slid open. Agent 4 turned and stared at them for a moment before reaching over to press the 30 button again. Acht took their turn grabbing their wrist, not letting them reach the console. They punched Acht in the throat, causing them to stumble slightly, letting go of their arm. Agent 4 moved back over to the console, but before they could press a button, Acht kicked their torso, sending stumbling through the elevator doors and out onto floor. They ran after them, planning to throw Four off the side of the stage. If they could get them splatted, they’d respawn in the Order Sector and the elevator would go back down. 

Four grabbed them by the collar, throwing them into the cage. Before it began moving over the floor, Acht grabbed their ankle, pulling them in as well. It was strange, now that the two of them were cramped together in the cage, Acht could clearly tell that Agent 4 smelled of citrus. Why would that even happen? They didn’t have time to think about it because both of them were about to be dropped over the stage. 

They landed with a thud and Jelletons began to swarm them. Or rather, they began to swarm Acht. Four was one of them. Before the situation could get anymore out of hand, they continued this trade off the two had been in by grabbing the inkling’s collar and hurling them over the edge. Acht watched them get splatted by the boundaries of the stage and quickly followed, leaping over the edge themself. As they did, they couldn’t resist the urge to flip off the Jelletons.

The two of them respawned moments later in the Order Sector. Eight, Pearl, and Marina were waiting there. Acht would have explained what happened to them, but before they could Agent 4 kicked them hard in the stomach, sending them flying into the lockers. They prepared to be hit again, but Eight and Marina were holding Four back. They thrashed rapidly, trying to get away. Pearl, now back in her drone form, flew over and offered Acht her handle to help them up. 

“Whoa, Acht, what happened?” Pearl said, lifting them from the ground. 

“They came in the elevator and tried to get to the top floor. I figured if they really were being controlled I shouldn’t let them reach Smollusk.” 

“Thank you, Acht. I don’t know what we would have done if they made it to the top,” Marina said, still trying to restrain Agent 4. “I also don’t know how we’re going to get them to stop fighting us.” As Marina spoke, Eight grabbed Four’s mask and ripped it off, hurling it as far across the Order Sector as he could. It made a clinking sound as it bounced away, getting lost somewhere among the coral. The moment the mask was off, Agent 4 stopped thrashing. Marina and Eight let go, but stayed alert, ready for them to attack again. They just stood there, staring into the nothingness. 

Acht got to see their face for the very first time. They had freckles everywhere, on their nose, their cheeks, and their forehead. Their eyes were big and round and bright red. It was interesting that the only thing that had color after greyscaling was their eyes. Despite wearing a blank expression, Acht could tell they smiled often. They had no evidence for this, Four just had that look to them.

“So… what now?” Pearl asked, hovering over to Agent 4.

“We see if the Spire works the way I planned it to. We give Four their palette and take them to the top. Then once they reach the top floor they should be themself again.” Marina looked worried. The only person who had actually tested the Spire was Eight, would it really work for Agent 4? Acht had their memories back, yes, but they never actually ascended the Spire, they just helped Eight. Simply being in the Memverse was enough for their mind to be restored. So if Four’s wasn’t, how much would it take for them to be back to their old self?

“And what if it doesn’t work?” Eight almost whispered. He was worried, this was the second time someone he cared about had been mind controlled by some big villain. What if he couldn’t save them?

“Then we’ll just have to figure something else out. I’m not letting Agent 4 stay like this, we’re going to help them.”

“So who’s climbing the Spire? Four or Eight?” Pearl asked.

“Both! We’ll have Four be the one to clear the floors, but if something goes wrong Eight will jump in and help them out. Pearl will go with Four and act as their drone and help them through the Spire when Eight doesn’t need to. I’ll help out with my hacks and Acht will operate the elevator. Is that okay with everyone?” Marina explained, looking around for the others’ approval. 

“That works for me. As long as they don’t beat me up again.” Acht tried to maintain their apathetic demeanor. In truth, they were afraid. Reconfiguring this palette would mean leaving the Memverse. They were not at all ready to face the reality of their sanitization. But staying here meant they had to watch Four face the reality of their greyscaling. 

It was so easy before to believe that they weren’t a real person. They were just another part of a boss fight in this messed up digital world, not someone with a personality and memories. But now they had a face. 

“Let’s go,” Eight muttered, already making his way to the Spire. He did not like any of this at all. He'd rather be done with free-will-threatening adventures.

Pearl armed Agent 4 with their palette and they followed Eight. Acht watched carefully to make sure they didn’t try to take the elevator straight to the top again.

Floor 1F was relatively easy. All Four had to do was sink two ∞-balls with minimal enemies attacking them. In exchange, they’d get a main range color chip. They cleared it relatively quickly and returned to the elevator.

“So… are they okay now? They kinda still seem not themself.” Pearl waved a robotic arm in front of Agent 4’s face. They didn’t react at all.

“Right now they only have one color chip, it’s going to take way more before we start seeing any change,” Marina explained. “Let’s see… assuming that they get one color chip each floor, subtracting boss floors since you don’t get color chips from those, that would mean they’d have about 27 color chips by the time they reach the top. So if one percent of 27 is 0.27 and 1 divided by 0.27 equals 3.70, then each color chip would be about 3.7% of them returned. However, this math is faulty as the number of color chips gained changes for each ascent of the Spire. Maybe they wouldn’t gain any color chips for a floor because they went to a vending machine corner and didn’t buy any chips. Maybe they do a floor that gives them double chips. Maybe they buy three chips from the vending machine. It’s impossible to get an exact number, but 27 is a safe ballpark estimate. Regardless, we likely won’t be seeing any changes for a while, but I’m sure Four is feeling them. Hopefully.”

“You’re such a nerd and I love you for it.” Pearl’s words made Marina blush. They never tried to hide their love for each other. Acht was happy for them but did not need to listen to them flirt every five minutes.

****

Agent 4 had completed 5F. They cleared it relatively well, choosing to take on an actual floor rather than go to the vending machine. On the elevator to the next floor, they finally spoke in who knows how long.

“Why?”

That was it. Just the word “Why”. They didn’t say anything else, their mouth barely moved when they said it. It was almost worse than them saying nothing at all.

Why am I here?

Why is this happening to me?

Why is it so much easier to just give up when all I want to do is keep going?

Why do I sometimes not want to keep going?

Why does it feel so comforting at times and so painful at others?

Why won’t you save me?

Why did you ever try to save me?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Acht couldn’t think about it anymore. The endless list of things that they could have meant by that made them feel sick. 

It only got worse from there. After 10F, Agent 4 started crying. And they didn’t stop. At 15F they hunched down on the floor and had a panic attack. They started talking more on the ride to 16F.

“Am I real?”

Everyone just looked at them for a moment before Marina jumped in, saying, “Yes, you never weren’t. Everything here might be digital but your mind is very real, and you have a physical body too.”

“What if I’m like this forever?”

“You won’t be, we’re gonna take you to the top of the Spire and you’ll be all better!” It was Pearl who spoke this time.

“How do I know who’s telling the truth?”

“We would never lie to you. We care about you,” Eight said. He seemed like he might start crying.

“It broke me.”

“Me too.” Acht did not make eye contact.

**** 

By 20F, Four was responding to their name and seemed capable of independent thought. Their color was returning too. They still didn’t remember who Eight, Pearl, or Marina were, but they seemed able to fully recollect their time helping Marie save Callie. But at 21F they sat next to the vending machine with their head buried in their knees. They didn’t say anything. They weren’t even crying. Or maybe they were, Acht couldn’t tell. At least none of the bosses had been Parallel Canon. Did that boss fight even exist anymore?

After waiting about 15 minutes at 21F, Acht walked out onto the floor. 

“I think they need some alone time,” Marina said, beckoning them back into the elevator.

“Marina. I know how this feels. Trust me, the last thing they need right now is to be alone.” Being alone made it worse. The emptiness caving in on you, begging for you to let your mind go blank, pleading for you to give up; it was torture. They were making progress, they were getting better. But if they let the fear take over now then it was all for nothing. They needed someone there to pull them out of their spiral.

Acht crouched down next to Four and put their arm around their shoulders. They were so warm, it felt like hugging a heated blanket. Four just sat there for a second. Then, they lifted their head from their knees by the slightest amount and peered over at Acht.

“I’m not the greatest at this. Emotions aren’t really my thing. Yet, I guess. I don’t know.” Acht wan’t sure what to do. This was all very awkward and new to them. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve been where you are. It’s scary, I know. But if you let fear win then you’re not going to get any better. And sometimes it’s hard to know if you even want to get better. And it takes a long time, I’m still recovering, but you’ve made so much progress so fast and you can’t give up now. Please don’t give up now.”

The floor was silent for what felt like forever. Then, finally, Four spoke.

“I won’t. I promise. Thank you.”

[polutrope]

for the Christmas prompts, can I get #14-being a Scrooge with Turgon, please? 😀

Another great prompt! This is loosely a part 2 to yesterday's. Turgon has a hard time with winter, and forgiveness. Also featuring Elenwe. ~1.1k words. Rated G. Little context: Feanor is adopted in this AU. See Beleria Cast of Characters for more! Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list.

Despite not getting to bed until eleven the previous night, Turgon was up early. He glanced out the window as he adjusted the thermostat and scowled. Still dark. And they hadn’t even reached the shortest day of the year yet.

Turgon hated winter.

He flipped on the kitchen lights and was greeted by the sight of his dining table still strewn with handmade Yule cards, left to dry the night before. What could Aredhel possibly need that many cards for?

He's talk to her again about finding her own place. Soon. He would have already if Elenwë hadn’t insisted that Yule was no time to kick someone out of your home. Was there ever a good time? And now she was back with Celegorm and bringing him around… Ugh. Turgon shuddered at the memory of coming home last night to the unwelcome sight of that man sitting at his dining table, blithely gluing popsicle sticks together. With Turgon’s daughter. And giving her hot chocolate at eight p.m. on a school night.

Bastard.

At least he’d taken the hint and left. But Turgon did not like the idea of that guy in his house, even if he wasn’t home.

Turgon rolled his shoulders and yawned loudly, setting the coffee to brew. Next: a cup of water in the saucepan and a half-cup of oats – as he'd done every day (except Saturdays, when he and Elenwë made crêpes) for the last five years. Since Idril had been born. (Not that he'd been especially creative with his breakfasts before that.)

He cleared a corner of the table for himself and idly perused the cards around him. The ones by his daughter and nephew were rather charming, he had to admit. Even if Maeglin’s choice of subject matter was odd, his spider was remarkably realistic for a four-year-old. He was a smart kid. Hopefully Celegorm’s influence wouldn’t ruin him.

“Hey babe.”

Turgon jumped, and Elenwë laughed. “Just me,” she said, setting her hand on his shoulder and pulling his head, nearly level with hers when seated, to her chest. “Up early again, hey? How’d you sleep?”

“Bad,” said Turgon.

Elenwë huffed as she set the kettle to boil. “You’ve been so stressed this term, Turno. Can you maybe give up teaching a class next term, focus on finishing your book?”

“El, no. I need the teaching experience. What we need is to get rid of my sister and her kid.”

“Turgon,” Elenwë said sternly. “Aredhel can’t afford her own—”

“Hey guys,” Aredhel said, appearing in leggings and a bright pink tank-top with her mass of black hair in a messy bun. “I forgot I’m subbing for the Hatha flow class this morning. Turno, do you mind watching Lómion? I’ll be back before lunch.”

“Why don’t you get Celegorm to watch him?” Turgon grumbled.

“What?”

“I said, why don’t you get your boyfriend to watch him? I have things to do.”

“Well, for one I don’t have time to take him to Celegorm’s—”

“It’s okay, Ar,” Elenwë cut in. “I can take him to work with me for the morning. I’m just putting on a movie for the kids this morning any way. Impossible to get a bunch of fourth-graders to learn anything this close to Yule!”

Turgon tried not to let his spoon clatter against the bowl as he scooped another bite of oatmeal. Of course, make him look like the bad guy.

“Thank you! I really appreciate it, I’ll owe you!” Aredhel said, then, “See you tonight, Turno.” Turgon could feel his sister’s glare but didn’t deign to meet it.

Elenwë sat down at the table with her tea and cereal. “I wish you’d partake in a little holiday cheer.”

“I will,” said Turgon noncommittally. “Once grades are in.”

“I wish I could believe that,” said Elenwë. “I was thinking: what if we had a little gathering here?”

Turgon looked up from his breakfast in shock. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it could be fun!” Elenwë said with a little bounce of her shoulders.

“I don’t think so. Anyway, we can’t afford a party.”

“You’re such a scrooge,” Elenwë said. “I think it would be a nice way to bring the families back together.”

Turgon dropped his spoon. “What families?”

“Yours and the Finvesens. You know, now that Aredhel and Celegorm are getting serious—”

“Elenwë,” said Turgon gravely, “please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” said Elenwë. “We had a nice time with him last night. I think he’s really gotten himself sorted out since they got back together. Did you know he’s back in school? Vet college! And I’m tired of every visit with Fingon being such an awkward affair, too.”

“Well, it wasn’t me who made it awkward,” said Turgon, returning to his oatmeal.

“Maybe not! But it’s you continuing to make it awkward. Look, like it or not, your brother and sister are dating a Finvesen now, and they are happy. Maybe it’s time to forgive them.”

“Elenwë, listen to yourself. I almost lost you because that fu— that Fëanor is a greedy bastard. You could have died after the accident, and—” Turgon’s eyes began to water “—they could have paid for the surgery, Elenwë, it would have been a drop in the hat for them. Dad would even have paid him back!” He covered his eyes with a hand and pinched his temples.

Elenwë found his other hand with hers. “Yes. I know," she said gently. "But I did get better, even without them. You didn’t lose me, I’m here. Listen, I’m not asking you to forgive Fëanor, but can you forgive his sons?” She squeezed his fingers. “I have.”

Turgon dragged a deep breath into his lungs and slowly let it out. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, I’ll try. But no party. I’m not ready for a party with them.”

Elenwë smiled. “Fine, no party. What about if we give them gifts?”

“Gifts!” Turgon shouted. “We can’t afford that many more gifts!”

Elenwë rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.” Then she gestured to the cards. “How about we make them gifts?”

“Real cute,” Turgon said. “I’m sure they’ll love some popsicle stick trees. Oh, I know: let's make them cards that say 'We're broke as shit' on the backs. Just to make the message clear. Wait,” he said, a grin slowly claiming his expression at his next thought, “actually: I saw a perfect gift idea for them at that quirky coffee shop down the street. We could probably make it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, a cute little sign. It said ‘Merry Kiss My Ass’.”

Turgon chuckled around his last bite of oatmeal, rather satisfied with his idea (about which he was not entirely joking).

Elenwë playfully smacked his shoulder. “You’re awful,” she said affectionately, and laughed.

[wiindexx]

Me and @koi-eats-rocks hold a really wholesome headcanon with Childe and Bennett. That hc is that Childe officially adopted Bennett just so that Bennett could have a legal parent outside of the ones caring for him in the Adventurer’s Guild, and that Childe is one of the best adoptive dads ever.

Before you continue, be aware that this is more of an AU(alternate universe) type work, so please keep that in mind

I’m already planning to finish it at some point later this or next month, so Im giving it a little test run before i officially post it to ao3. here’s that tester:

 “Dad?” The tear-filled words rang out in Ajax’s head as he looked over his computer to see that his son, Bennett, was standing in the doorway, crying.

“What is it? You can tell me anything,” Ajax said as he rolled his chair away from his mahogany desk and patted a pale hand on his lap while smiling sweetly at his son, signaling Bennett to come over and talk about his troubles. Bennett obliged and padded over, clambering into his father’s lap and sobbing quietly into Ajax’s chest, tightly gripping the fabric of his father’s black hoodie.

“Hey,” Ajax softly cooed, running his hand through his son’s silvery hair. “Hey, it’s okay, I'm here. What’s bothering you?” he asked as Bennett pulled his head away. His bright green eyes were stained a pink color due to them being bloodshot as he was crying, and his pale, tear-streaked, freckled cheeks were bright red–and likely raw–from him wiping his shirt sleeves on them.

“Bennett, what’s making you so sad?” Ajax softly asked, and finally got a response from his seven-year-old son.

“The other boys at school are mad at me for my bad luck–hic–making them lose the dodgeball game we had in gym class on Wednesday. They–they won’t stop saying–hic–it’s my bad luck that made momma leave. They're saying–hic–she didn’t want a kid with bad luck–hic–so she abandoned me." Bennett sobbed.

“Well, first of all, if they start talking about or to you like that again, tell me immediately and I will deal with it. I will call their parents myself if I have to. Your mother didn’t leave because of you, she left because she was sick of ‘raising a family’ as she said it. It wasn't your fault, Benny. Secondly, your bad luck doesn’t define you as a person. Hell, you don’t even have this ‘bad luck’. If you did, then we probably would have had to move out of this house ten times by now.” Ajax sighed as he comforted Bennett, feeling guilty for allowing his ex to randomly abandon both him and Bennett in the middle of the night four years ago, leaving him to raise their son on his own. ‘If only I had been more perceptive of the woman’, he thought, ‘then I would have been able to prevent all these years of hardship.’

An hour of soothing a sad and emotionally vulnerable son later, Bennett was fast asleep in his father’s lap, a small puddle of drool now beginning to drip onto the right bicep of Ajax’s favorite sweatshirt. He smiled and sighed as he picked Bennett up and stood, making his way around the desk he’d previously been sitting at and to his son’s bedroom, where he tucked Bennett in for a much-needed nap. The kid needed it, and he deserved the rest after dumping a secret to his father while sobbing uncontrollably.

Seeing as it was noon, and a Friday rather than a Saturday or Sunday, Ajax thought it’d be a good idea to make a call to his son’s school. The ginger hesitated as he tapped in the phone number to the school, before deciding against it. He still had to get the names of those bullies after all. Ajax sighed, thinking about what it would be like to give his son a perfect life, with two loving parents instead of just one. That was why he’d been putting himself out there while his son was at school, attending extracurricular activities during the week, or when he would send the kid off to his favorite babysitter, Zhongli, for an evening. He was desperately trying to find a good candidate to be his empty half and an excellent parent to his son. Someone to replace that bitch of a mother his son had. Still, he’d been unsuccessful for many months.

That’s all for now, folks. If you like it, please let me know! I’m always down for (very gentle) constructive criticism!

[frizzyanya]

Hi, yes, so I wrote something based on this, it’s copied below or can be found on AO3 here. (3800 words) Based on OP’s post and @fandomtraveller20​‘s comment.

Regulus

It had started out as an off-hand comment, as most things did with them.

Some fifth year girl had come up to Regulus to dreamily ask if he wanted to go to Madam Puddifoots with her. The answer, of course, as always, had been no. He really didn’t understand why they still asked.

Now that he was seen as the heir apparent to his side of the Black Family’s fortune, he was seen as a catch. Damn Sirius for leaving.

No matter how rough and abrasive he tried to make himself, people always wanted to ingratiate themselves with him to curry favor, or perhaps in the hope that his status would reflect well on them.

Not that Regulus had ever in his life been that sort of person.

And so, on one Tuesday after lunch, Regulus kicked the leg of his four-poster, and whined to Barty and Evan out loud, “I wish I could just say I was dating someone so they’d all get off my back.”

Barty and Evan both blinked back at him for a moment, unsure what to say.

“But Regulus, mate,” Evan said carefully, “you don’t want to date anyone.”

Barty wasn’t so gentle. “You really can’t date anyone while you’re so hung up on Potter you can’t even think about anyone else, wouldn’t be fair.”

Regulus scowled at Barty. “I’m not hung up on him anymore, that was a month last year. I’m over it.”

Evan laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, Reg.”

Regulus turned his glare on Evan, who just shrugged but didn’t seem bothered. He should be cowering, Regulus was half a second from cursing them both over it.

“Anyway, that’s not what I meant,” Regulus said, irritated, “I don’t want to date anyone for real, just make people think I am.”

Barty perked up. “A fake relationship?”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going to find someone willing to do that? Going to ask Potter if he’d be inter-”

Regulus threw a pillow at him. Evan just hugged it like it had been a gift rather than a weapon.

“Not him. Anyone but him,” Regulus said darkly. Evan wasn’t getting it.

“Yeah,” Barty said, with a confident nod, “I get what you’re going for. I’ll do it.”

Evan pulled the pillow away quickly. Regulus gaped at Barty, equally shocked.

“You’ll what?” they asked in perfect unison.

Barty nodded, looking at both of them as though they were dim.

“If you ask anyone else, it’ll be common knowledge it’s fake by day two. There’s no one who you can trust a secret like that with. ‘The heir to the-’”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Regulus said quickly. “You-” he paused hesitantly, “you would be okay with that?”

Evan’s face was screwed up a bit.

“Why do you want to?” he asked, “what’s in it for you?”

Regulus turned back to Barty. It had been an excellent question.

Barty’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Why do I ever want to do anything? The chaos of it all.”

-

Their fake little affair was news within hours. Evan hadn’t really understood why either of them were willing to do it, but Barty hadn’t had a single second’s hesitation.

“I’m going out with Regulus on Saturday,” he’d announced loudly to Dorcas the second he’d ascended the stairs back up into the common room, “finally got him to say yes. He always says no to anyone who asks, but I knew he’d be interested in me. I mean how could he not be?”

Regulus, who’d been at the bottom of the stairs eavesdropping, just rolled his eyes. Evan laughed lightly, but they both turned back into their dorm room. The message had been delivered as needed.

By dinner, everyone in the castle knew. It probably wouldn’t have been such big news if Regulus hadn’t been who he was, but there was no stopping gossip when it was about an heir to one of the houses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Barty wasted no time. Even though their stated first date was on Saturday, he was already acting like he was smitten at dinner that night.

He served Regulus extra food when he’d finished the portion he’d served himself, bumped their shoulders obnoxiously, and flirted loudly.

The whole room probably heard. Regulus would have been mortified if it hadn’t been necessary to his sanity to get those silly girls away from him.

Mercifully, while Barty was over the top with his words and actions, he was more subdued with his touches. Regulus had never been a very tactile person, and Barty respected that fact.

They would never really be compatible to date, but he was a solid friend.

Dorcas and Pandora teased them all dinner. Pandora - who was a Ravenclaw and therefore hadn’t heard the news until late afternoon - ate with them to get the story. Dorcas - who had been the very first person to know - had a certain expression of mischief in her eyes when she looked at them, and Regulus already had a guess that she had clocked it as fake. Still, she didn’t say anything about it.

But if he was going to trust anyone with the secret eventually, it would be the two of them.

They were, after all, his closest friends after Barty and Evan.

He wouldn’t have asked either of them to fake date him, but he did trust them to keep his secrets in this and all things.

After dinner, Barty and Regulus walked out together into the Great Hall, eyes following them as they went. Evan had stayed behind with the girls, which meant that Regulus and Barty’s walk back felt like a procession, as though they’d had a carpet laid out in front of them so that all eyes could focus on them.

They hadn’t escaped the hall for long before Sirius and his friends appeared in front of them.

Sirius watched Regulus flatly.

“Can I talk to you, Reg?” he asked. “Alone?” He eyed Crouch disdainfully.

Regulus just glared at him. They weren’t close, but they’d certainly been getting along better since Sirius had left; he no longer seemed to blame Regulus for every single misery in his life, which meant that they could have a passing decent relationship when they wanted to.

But Sirius wasn’t entitled to Regulus’ free time, and Regulus didn’t feel like getting berated in private.

“No,” Regulus said coldly.

Sirius eyed him, and then seemed to decide he wasn’t going to give in.

“Then I’ll just say it here: what the fuck are you playing at, dating Crouch?”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. He had expected the questions, but he hadn’t necessarily expected them in front of Barty.

“It’s none of your bloody business, is what it is.”

Barty laughed loudly.

For the first time, Regulus looked away from Sirius.

Barty’s expression was icy, but he was obviously entertained.

Sirius was surrounded by his friends. Lupin and Pettigrew were watching warily, a few steps behind Sirius. Potter was standing even with him, and his glare was actually much colder than that of Sirius. He looked mutinous, as though he were somehow offended by Barty and Regulus dating.

Regulus couldn’t see how any of this was his business at all.

But Regulus was a little hurt to see that expression on his face in Regulus’ direction, because - contrary to what he would ever admit to his friends - he did still like Potter so much more than he wanted to. Those rare moments when Potter had smiled at him, or even said hi, were all etched in his memory in gold plating. Regulus would have to try to forget this one.

“You’re not even gay,” Potter spat towards Regulus, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

Regulus raised one shoulder loftily.

“You don’t know anything about me, Potter,” he said. He didn’t confirm or deny being gay, even though it was definitely true, but Barty made to confirm it for him.

He slung his arm slowly and carefully around Regulus’ lower back (so as not to spook Regulus, but it probably seemed more protective than anything to the outsiders) and stepped a little closer.

“You don’t know anything, Potter. We were just leaving.”

“Sirius,” Regulus said in dismissal, with an incline of his head.

“Regulus,” Sirius replied automatically.

Barty led Regulus in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Just after they’d turned a corner away from the hall, Regulus could hear Potter say “he’s not gay” in a very dark voice.

Sirius responded immediately, but Regulus couldn’t make out the words because his voice was much lower.

Barty dropped his arm once they were out of sight.

“Sorry about that,” he said, gesturing to where his arm had been, “had to sell it, but I know you’re…”

He trailed off, but Regulus just waived his concerns away.

“I’ve got to get used to it, I suppose,” he said warily. There was no pretending to date Barty if he wasn’t going to get used to at least some touch. “That sort of thing is okay.”

On the way back to the common room, they went over what would be okay and what wouldn’t, in depth.

Yes: arm around the shoulders, arm around the back, holding hands, kiss on the cheek, hug from the front, linked arms.

No: kiss on the mouth or anywhere else other than the cheek, hug from behind, hands in Regulus’ hair.

That night, after all was said and done, Regulus laid in his bed, rather satisfied with how the day had gone. Barty was actually the perfect person to have planned this out with. He would respect Regulus’ boundaries.

-

The next day, Wednesday, the stares started to get a lot less pointed and a lot more casual. Most people seemed to have accepted that they were dating, and no longer seemed like it was worth talking about.

Only one person seemed like this news was still noteworthy, and that was James Potter.

When the Slytherin sixth years passed a group of Gryffindor seventh years who were chatting by the Transfiguration classroom, the first thing that Regulus noticed was Sirius’ eye roll. He didn’t say anything, but he still seemed irritated before turning away to ignore them.

But Potter didn’t look away. He just glared, openly staring, at Barty and Regulus as they walked by.

“He hates me,” Barty said with a laugh when they had cleared out of the hallway. “It’s actually kind of funny. Think he’s protective of your family name? Doesn’t want Sirius’ name sullied by association with someone like me?”

Regulus thought hard about it, but he could only come up with one reason.

“Hardly, he never seemed to object to you when we were friends. Maybe he’s homophonic.”

Barty’s eyes widened, and his smile was wild.

“The great James Potter, champion of the little guy and hero of the school, is homophobic. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Regulus frowned at him. “He’s not the Great James Potter, he’s-”

Barty scoffed and cut him off. “That’s rich for you to say, you worship the ground he walks on.”

“Do not,” Regulus replied darkly.

Barty just laughed, unbothered by Regulus’ outrage.

“You do. But if he’s homophobic, that’s pretty bad of him.”

Regulus nodded, awfully sad about it. He wouldn’t have taken Potter for someone who hated gay people. Regulus - who was very definitely 100% gay - felt a little bit sad about just how misplaced his stupid unrequited crush had been.

“We could make him even more uncomfortable,” Barty mused, oblivious to Regulus’ inner turmoil, “make him regret ever talking bad about us.”

“And how would we do that?” Regulus asked skeptically.

“I have an idea,” Barty said with an evil grin. “We’re going to make him get used to it.”

-

Barty’s idea, apparently, was to spend more time in Potter’s way, and to be extra annoying while they did it.

He already knew the Gryffindor seventh years’ class schedule (when Regulus asked how exactly hw knew it, Barty just waived him off and explained that he knew everyone’s class schedule, for all houses and years. Barty’s photographic memory and encyclopedic knowledge of everything he’d ever learned could be scary sometimes) so they could make sure that they were everywhere.

When Potter and his friends exited their Charms classroom after lunch, it was to find that Regulus and Barty were sitting on the window ledge next to the classroom, Barty with his legs across Regulus’ lap and his arms around Regulus’ neck, looking the picture of the most annoying cutesy relationship that had ever happened in the history of the school.

When Sirius saw them, he rolled his eyes and moved to walk away.

When Potter saw them, he marched over straight away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Regulus sharply. He pointed a finger at Barty. “With him?”

“I believe we are snuggled up cozy,” Barty replied gleefully, “feels nice to-” he began, but James ignored him.

“I didn’t ask you,” he said to Barty. He turned back to Regulus. “Why, Regulus?”

It seemed out of character for Potter to so sincerely treat someone like they were beneath his notice (that was something that Regulus or Sirius would do, but not someone so noble as James Potter).

“What he said,” Regulus replied. “Why are you so bothered? Does the sight of us together offend you somehow? Can’t stand two guys who are happy to be-”

Sirius grabbed James’ wrist and pulled him away before he could reply.

“Don’t rise to their bate, Prongs, just ignore them.”

Potter nodded sharply, before turning back to Regulus once more.

There was something in his eyes, something almost desperate.

“You shouldn’t date him,” he said finally, “you could do so much better. You don’t have to date someone like him.”

And then he turned and left with his friends, leaving Regulus a little shell shocked.

“You okay?” Barty asked quietly, seeming to sense that Regulus was a little off kilter after that.

“He really is homophobic,” Regulus replied dumbly. He should have known based on their prior interaction, but it still hurt. It was shattering the golden boy image so sharply that it almost physically hurt Regulus’ heart.

-

The rest of the week was a lot simpler, because Potter didn’t approach them again. After the stressful interaction outside of the classroom, Regulus and Barty had abandoned their plan to bother Potter all the time.

Without really discussing it, they’d just stuck to their own schedule.

And Potter might even have been avoiding them, who could say.

On Saturday Regulus and Barty had their date in Hogsmeade, and it went very well. They went to Honeydukes and Barty bought Regulus a large bag of sweets, then they got drinks at the Three Broomsticks.

Loads of people saw them, which made the whole thing feel like it was accomplishing the goal they’d set for themselves.

A couple of people came up to them to remark on how cute they were together, which made Barty and Regulus both stare them down flatly until they left, but it was harmless. Trying to gain favor by flattery was certainly less annoying than being asked out over and over.

Regulus only spotted Potter in Hogsmeade in the late afternoon. He and Peter Pettigrew were on their way into Zonko’s joke shop, laughing together as they walked up. Potter put his hand on the door to pull it open, when he raised his eyes and spotted Regulus and Barty down the street.

Something in Potter’s eyes looked stricken. There was a long moment’s pause while Potter stared at them before Pettigrew leaned forward and said something quietly to him, which prompted him to turn and wrench the door open and walk briskly inside. Pettigrew gave one meaningful look towards Regulus before he, too, went inside.

Regulus found himself frozen on the flagstones.

“He hates that we’re together so much,” Barty said, but his words were thoughtful rather than scathing. “It’s weird, actually.”

Regulus turned to look at him, finally pulling his eyes away from the door Potter had disappeared through.

“Why is it weird?” he asked.

“Your brother and Lupin are on a date right now, and he seemed so supportive of that.”

Regulus’ eyes bugged out.

“They’re what ?” he asked, “where did you hear that?”

Barty just stared at him, confused for a second, before his eyes widened.

“Oh, you left breakfast early, I forgot.” Regulus circled his hand quickly to indicate that Barty should keep going. “When we were leaving, Sirius and Potter were in front of us down the hallway. Sirius was going on about how excited he was for his date with Lupin, and Potter was saying how happy he was for him.”

Regulus felt like the world was tilting on its axis.

“He wasn’t homophobic?”

Barty shook his head. “Not at all, actually, he was cheering them on.”

“But,” Regulus began, “but why does he hate…” he trailed off, trying not to finish with “me.”

Barty eyed Regulus up and down carefully. Regulus had to work not to shrink from his gaze. Barty was the smartest person any of them knew, but to be on the wrong end of one of his highly focused stares could be unnerving. You could practically see his brain working through it.

“Maybe it’s not homophobia that’s making him mad.”

Regulus turned back towards Zonko’s, but the door stayed firmly closed.

“What is then?” Regulus asked, “every time he sees me he glares.”

“No,” Barty corrected, “everytime he sees me he glares. I don’t think you’re the problem.”

“What’s that supposed-” Regulus began, but the jingling of a bell above the door to the joke shop distracted him, and both he and Barty turned and watched Potter and Pettigrew walk out.

“Oi, Potter!” Barty called out, as though they were friends, “over here!”

Potter glared at him, but it was more wary than harsh. He started walking over, and Pettigrew followed a few steps behind.

“What do you want, Crouch?” he asked.

Barty’s lips were tilted up in a mischievous smile.

“Where are your friends?” he asked, affecting a casual tone, “usually don’t see you without them.”

Potter’s glare softened ever so slightly at the mention of his friends.

“They’re off somewhere together,” he replied. “On a date.”

“It’s their first date,” Pettigrew added unnecessarily. Potter nodded.

“And you’re not angry about that?” Regulus blurted out, against his own better judgment.

All the anger left Potter’s face when he turned to Regulus, and he just looked confused.

“Angry about what?” he asked. “They’re my friends. I want them to be happy.”

Regulus shook his head slightly, trying to shake his brain free of whatever had him confused.

“But you hate…” he said, but he trailed off and looked away. “So it’s just me then?” he said to the wall.

“I’m not…” Potter finally began, “I don’t hate you. Not at all.”

Regulus looked back at him angrily. How dare Potter pretend he hadn’t been terrible all week.

“You don’t hate me, sure. It’s not a problem when my brother dates a man, but it’s a problem when I do. That’s a very specific kind of homophobia, Potter, kind of rude when you think about it.”

A long silence descended on them.

“Regulus,” Potter said gently. “I’m not…homophobic.” He said the word like it was dirty.

“The opposite, really,” Pettigrew said.

Regulus turned to stare at him, and Pettigrew shrank back.

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked sharply.

Pettigrew flushed. “He doesn’t hate that you’re dating Barty because he’s homophobic ,” he explained. “It’s not that.”

Regulus turned back to Potter.

“Then why? Because this feels personal.”

Potter winced. “It’s not that, it’s something else.”

Barty laughed ever so slightly, and Regulus glared at him.

Barty just rolled his eyes.

“Say it Potter, he’s not going to believe it if I tell him later, needs to come from you.”

Potter nodded. Regulus looked back and forth between them.

“Sorry if I made you feel that way,” Potter said apologetically, “I wasn’t upset it was a guy. I was jealous.”

Regulus stared at him, wide eyed. “You were what?”

“I was jealous,” Potter said with a nod. “I’ll get over it. It’s fine.”

Regulus ignored whatever amused sounds Barty was making somewhere in the distant background.

“You were jealous…of Barty?”

“Yeah,” Potter said with a shrug. “I have a thing for you. But like I said I’ll get over-”

“Barty, you’re fired,” Regulus said without turning away from Potter.

Barty just laughed.

“Pettigrew, let’s go,” Barty said, walking around Potter to grab Pettigrew by the arm.

Potter didn’t look away from Regulus, but he did address Pettigrew distractedly. He seemed to understand that Regulus wanted him alone. “See ya later, Wormtail.”

Pettigrew walked off with Barty, but only after pulling his arm free and keeping himself a few steps away.

“What did you mean ‘you’re fired?’” Potter asked, once they were alone.

“We weren’t really dating,” Regulus admitted, “not for real. I just wanted people to leave me alone and stop asking me out.”

Hesitation flickered across Potter’s face.

“So you’re not gay then?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“No, that’s why I fired him. I am very gay.”

Potter looked confused, but only for a second, and then one of those smiles broke out across his face.

“So can I ask you out then?”

Regulus nodded, a smile playing at his lips.

“Please do.”

Potter grinned. “Regulus Black, would you want to go out sometime, perhaps right this second across the street?”

Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah. Just had a date there a few minutes ago so it might confuse people, but I very much would.”

James stepped forward and slipped an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. Somehow, when it was Potter, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t have any urge at all to resist the touch. He let James lead him across the street.

“My brother is going to go mental,” Regulus said when they had sat down with drinks, “he’s going to think this is so weird.”

Potter shook his head and smiled.

“I promise you he’s not. He won’t even be surprised.”

“Potter,” Regulus said flatly, “You’re you and I’m me.”

Potter shook his head a little sadly.

“He’s known I liked you since the very beginning.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “And call me James.”

Regulus nodded, and a faint smile flickered across Potter’s - James’ face.

“How long, James?” Regulus finally asked, giving in and calling him by his name.

James smiled nervously. “A little over a year. Never thought you’d go for it though, never even thought you’d go for any guy.”

Regulus shook his head, feeling a little exasperated at himself.

“We lost all that time.”

James’ eyes widened. “You liked me too?”

Regulus nodded sadly, but James’ expression wasn’t sad. It was so, so happy.

“Better late than never,” he said simply, that smile filling the space between them.

“Yeah,” Regulus agreed, “better late than never.”

Imagine Bartylus fake dating (for whatever reason) and James is so jealous that Regulus thinks he’s homophobic 😭😭

[mareastrorum]

WIP Wednesday: The Fool and the Soldier, Ch. 9 (Shop Date)

The Fool and the Soldier is now up on AO3, updated every other Friday (usually). I'm aiming for Friday, but might bump to Saturday/Sunday this week.

Unfortunately, I'll have to bump this next update to next Friday, 12/22. Work has been insane. Like before, I don't want to rush and get something half-assed posted. Hopefully work calms down after the holidays and we'll be back on schedule.

I didn't post a WIP scene last week because all the ones I had ready were super spoilery! So I've posted both this WIP scene and a Meta post today as a treat. Enjoy!

See the directory for other TF&TS posts.

Why did it have to be shopping?

Fjord was ready to declare mutiny and take his chances facing Avantika, Vera, and Bouldergut head on himself, in the middle of the busy port, so long as it would mean an end to this asinine errand. He felt an itch all along the inside of his skin. They’d spent the better part of an hour checking in with the wharfmaster about repairs, then Vera briefly reported what she’d already stocked at each vessel before insisting upon accompanying Avantika for the rest of the day. They’d spent the next two hours stopping in shop after shop, making bulk orders for supplies and assigning a trailing crewman to finish the request or handle delivery, eventually dwindling down to the final four. To make things worse, the dear captain was a haggler, prolonging each of their stops.

Gods, if it wasn’t for the Nein counting on Fjord to keep the crew distracted, he would have gone for the combat option. Instead, he kept a courteous smile on his face and followed Avantika down the busy road. “So, what is it that we still need?”

“Thankfully, Vera’s already ensured that we’ve restocked on most supplies,” Avantika replied. “However, there are a few items I prefer to check myself, and some favors I need to call on.”

“I take it these will be necessary equipment for our next destination?” Fjord noted.

Avantika grinned, though she continued looking forward as she led the way. “Oui.”

That was Nuash for “yes.” Fjord only knew a few key phrases, though he hadn’t heard the Ki’nau language spoken much since he left Port Damali for Nicodranas. It wasn’t that Nicodranas necessarily disfavored Naush; it was that there were far more languages spoken there that he just hadn’t noticed it much during his stops.

Darktow seemed similar, with most speaking in Common, plus a background melody of Marquesian, Naush, racial languages, and another with quick consonants that he didn’t recognize. Everyone switched between multiple languages with ease, depending on who they spoke to. Most land-based locals spoke an airy mix of Common and Naush while most sailors stuck to Common with thick Marquesian accents. Now and then, a group of halflings, dwarves, or elves passed by, speaking in their own tongues.

This mix of cultures and languages was typical of the Menagerie Coast, though there were unique blends at each port. Novel but familiar, nostalgic and diverse, in every new place Fjord had encountered during his time as a crewman. Fjord had missed it more than he realized, and he wished more than anything that he could enjoy it without all this doomsday business hanging over the Nein. It was strange to be homesick for a home that wasn’t a single place. Stranger still to walk in a place that should be like home and to feel like an outsider despite a welcome.

After a time in silence, Fjord teased his regrowing tusks, not yet long enough to protrude from his mouth, but enough to bother his lips. “I presume we’re going to be divin’ at the Diver’s Grave, but have you done that before? I’ve got some experience. Perhaps I can make some recommendations.”

Vera tilted her head slightly to leer at him from the other side of Avantika. Bouldergut said nothing, still stomping along behind them.

“A few times,” Avantika answered coyly as they approached a storefront at the end of the docks. The front wasn’t a proper wall, mostly a giant gate swung open and locked against the side, with a massive furnace along the back wall and anvil in the center, and a counter up front. A blacksmith of some kind.

Before Fjord could ask anything further, Avantika immediately addressed the clerk. He sighed and kept silent so she could work. He’d heard of strange diving suits, leather and metal contraptions for exploring the reefs for shipwrecks. As far as he knew, they worked a few hundred feet down, but they required a pump and tubes to provide air. Not the most efficient way to explore the depths, but then, most people didn’t train for free diving like Fjord had at Driftwood Asylum.

As unpleasant as they were, Fjord let himself get lost in the memories of that terrible place rather than wait mindlessly. Sabian had also been an orphan there and one of numerous bullies that made his life a living hell. Half-orcs weren’t common in Port Damali, and they’d needled him for anything they could think of. Called him a foundling, insisting his parents must have abandoned him rather than died, and he did not have a memory to speak to either possibility. Made fun of his teeth, jeering that he was a half-beast for his tusks. Mocked his uneven skintone, that he’d been left to soak in the water and it was that the green had bled from his flesh.

When Vandran had shown up looking for recruits to join his crew, Fjord had jumped at the chance—and so had Sabian. Thankfully, the work kept them both so busy that Sabian either didn’t have the time to continue his bullying or found enough distractions that were more pleasurable. Those years were hard, without a doubt, but they were some of the best of Fjord’s life. Within a few months, Vandran took him under his wing, tutoring him in sailing, leadership, swordmanship, and generally just getting along with people. All the things a father would have taught.

Then, perhaps a year ago, Sabian blew up the Tide’s Breath in the middle of a terrible storm, killing everyone else aboard and sinking it to the depths.

There had been no lead up to it. No whispers of mutiny or dissatisfaction with Vandran’s leadership. They had left port a few weeks earlier, when Sabian could have left and sought other employment. The half-elf hadn’t even taken anything with him when he dove into the roiling waters just seconds before the explosion. No hints as to a motive. Fjord had first thought his own survival was sheer luck, but after waking half-drowned with the Sword of Fathoms in hand, it must have been Uk’otoa that saved him.

Then, how had Sabian survived?

That thought brought Fjord’s mind to a halt, just as it had all times it cropped up before. Why did Uk’otoa choose and save Fjord, a hapless sailor shipwrecked during a terrible storm? Fjord had seen a vision of Vandran standing over a corpse with the Sword of Fathoms in hand, and after Urukayxl, Avantika had claimed that he had been a chosen of Uk’otoa when she met him (though Fjord had lied that he didn’t know the man). If Avantika had been telling the truth that Vandran had forsaken his plan to release Uk’otoa, then maybe Uk’otoa had taken that chance to send the sword to a new chosen. But why did Uk’otoa pick Fjord, who was loyal to Vandran, instead of Sabian, who had betrayed him?

Maybe Uk’otoa didn’t think Sabian was worth of being chosen. But then what did the demi-god prioritize? Vandran and Avantika were both personable, driven, and had a strong commitment to whatever path they chose. Fjord did alright presenting that sort of personality since he’d started emulating Vandran’s attitude and speech, but—

Avantika interrupted those thoughts as she spoke, “Bouldergut, you can manage, yes?”

Fjord roused from his distraction to turn and see a goliath stop a pallet on spoked wheels behind them. Because of the decline, the man was behind the cart, his grip on a rope preventing it from rolling down the grade. The massive metal construction resembled a bell with strange metal clasps and hooks on the bottom rim.

Bouldergut grinned toothily. “Yeah, boss lady.” She took the rope from the goliath and slowly began down toward the ship, while the goliath rolled his shoulders and walked back behind the storefront with a grunt.

“The balancing weights are inside on the pallet,” the dragonborn blacksmith noted. “I suggest gettin’ a crane to lift it onto the ship. No gangplank’s gonna handle that weight.”

“Of course,” Avantika said as she nodded to Vera, who counted out some silver bars from Bouldergut’s pack and laid them on the counter. “Bouldergut, just guard it at the dock once you get back to the Squalleater. Don’t try to take it aboard.”

“Yes, Captain!” Bouldergut cried as she left.

Once they were on their way again, Fjord asked, “A diving bell? I wasn’t aware that anyone in Darktow was interested in salvage. Actual salvage, not ‘salvage.’” He emphasized with air quotes.

Avantika chuckled as she began leading Vera and Fjord away. “It is not a popular vocation in the Revelry, but there are a few crews dedicated solely to such ventures. Enough for the merchants to keep several useful items stocked. You said you had experience. Are you familiar with deep sea diving?”

“Can’t say that I am,” Fjord answered honestly. “Before I was a sailor, I did some salvage in shallow waters, but none at a depth requirin’ equipment. Just good ol’ fashioned lungs.”

“Yes, I know you have quite the capacity for holding your breath,” Avantika mused with a smirk. Fjord felt his face flush, and while he didn’t look, he could feel Vera’s pointed glare. “However, that would only last you minutes. The depths of the Diver’s Grave require more than skill.”

Fjord took the opportunity to dig. “You didn’t mention how deep we’d be goin’. Do you know, or are we gonna improvise once we get there?”

“The Grave is only perhaps a hundred, a hundred fifty fathoms deep,” Avantika explained. Fjord was only slightly taller than a fathom, and such a depth wasn’t considered deep sea—surprising for a location in the middle of the Lucidian. “Prone to storms, which is why there are many stories of wrecks and treasure to be found there for enterprising divers. Assuming that their own vessel does not join the ones below.”

“With the blessings of Uk’otoa, we have no such fear,” Vera added with conviction.

“Of course,” Avantika agreed.

“At that depth, we’ll need somethin’ for the bends, or else it’ll take much longer between dives,” Fjord noted. He’d heard horror stories of blood boiling, spasms, skin swelling, burning lungs—all symptoms of going too deep too quick and then rushing back up. Even free diving to only twenty fathoms had to be gradual, taking stops on the way back up to settle the change in pressure. He had a feeling his water breathing spell would take care of that, but he’d never told Avantika he had it, and it was one more way to delay.

To prolong the shopping.

“Ah, you are right, my quartermaster,” Avantika noted. “We should stop by the alchemist.”

Fjord nodded, swallowing his frustrated sigh. Godsdamnit, this had better pay off.

[yuuchre-moved]

Love Me in Spite: Chapter 2

chapter 2 is up!! yay!! 

read it here on ao3 or read under the cut for chapter 2

fic summary: With the Garreg Mach Ball fast approaching and all the girls at the monastery giving him the cold shoulder, Sylvain realizes that he's going to have to get creative if he wants to maintain his dignity and snag a date for the occasion. Enter Felix: hostile, unamused, and utterly confused, he's somehow dragged into becoming Sylvain's fake boyfriend for the better part of a month. During their time together, the two might just learn to separate love from lies and turn hopes they didn't know they had into realities. 

Felix glared pointedly at his teacup, wishing he’d never agreed to help Sylvain. He splayed his fingers over his knees, clutching the fabric of his pants so he wasn’t tempted to pick up the teapot resting on the outdoor table and hurl it across the courtyard. 

“Aren’t you going to drink your tea?” He could hear the smile in Sylvain’s voice without having to look up at him. 

A moment of silence passed. “Maybe not. What did it do to deserve a frown like that?” 

Felix sighed and dragged his gaze up to look at Sylvain. A small smile danced on his companion’s lips. Of course he’d find this situation funny. It wasn’t like he was being torn apart on the inside every moment he spent here. 

“No one would believe it if I suddenly started mooning over you. I’m trying to make things realistic.” 

Sylvain shrugged. “Fair point. But, on the other hand, no one is going to believe it if you act like you hate being with me. Could you try and smile a little? For me?” 

Felix fixed him with a cool stare and lifted the teacup to his lips. To his surprise, even though it had become lukewarm, he found himself enjoying the familiar taste. 

“Almyran pine needles. Your favourite, right?” Sylvain was grinning at him, obviously proud of himself for making the effort to utilize that knowledge. 

“You really don’t half-ass this ‘romance’ thing, do you?” Felix muttered, pained to admit that he was right. This was the sort of thing that made their situation almost impossible to tolerate. Sylvain wasn’t required to play the charmer and hunt down Felix’s favourite tea and act like he cared. But he did, and Felix wanted to strangle him for it. “Who did you have to bribe for that information?” 

“No one, actually. I remembered because it’s sort of bitter, like you.” He paused for a moment, still grinning like an idiot. “Kidding. Kind of.” 

Felix ignored him. “I’ve decided that you’re going to train with me sometime.” 

Sylvain sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Doesn’t seem like I have a say in it. If that’s the price I have to pay for your help, I guess I can afford it.” 

“You’ll never get anywhere slacking off like you do. You’re going to end up dead on the battlefield one of these days.” 

“Why would I spend time training when I could be with a cute girl instead? I’m not going to die just because I missed a few sessions.” Sylvain lifted his cup to his lips, obscuring his seemingly perpetual grin. “But fine, fine. We’ll train. Eventually.” 

Felix left it at that, not in the mood to argue with him when he wasn’t being serious. He pushed the teacup away, way past his emotional limit. He’d wanted to leave since the moment he sat down at the table. Usually he opted to train after class, not participate in a stupid tea party. But before he could stand up, Sylvain started to speak, his voice hushed. 

“Has anyone asked you about… us?” 

“No, thank the Goddess. I don’t know how many people have made the assumption yet. I don’t even know what I’d say to someone who asked. As if I could… you know. Explain… as if…” His face burned as Sylvain stared, waiting for him to finish. He  gestured between them and hoped his embarrassment wasn’t showing through. “As if this were real. It’s just ridiculous.” 

“No, it’s genius. It should be, considering the fact that I’m the one who came up with it. Just talk the talk and everything will be fine, regardless of how you actually feel.” 

“I’m sure you’re quite the expert at lying through your teeth,” Felix said dryly. “You’ve practiced it on enough women. But I’m not a liar. You were stupid to pick me to do this.” 

“I don’t lie to people.” Sylvain had his lips twisted into a tight pout. “Exaggerate, maybe. And don’t blame me when you’re the one who said yes.” 

Felix stood, bristling. “Don’t you dare say that when you’re the one who begged and bribed me to agree. Do you really think it’s wise to pick a fight with me when I’m the one helping you out?” 

Sylvain’s pout had been replaced with a look of genuine anger. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut short when someone appeared beside their table. 

“Oh, my. Are the rumours wrong? Or have I interrupted a lovers’ quarrel?” Dorothea tapped the table and lifted an eyebrow. 

Sylvain was by Felix’s side in a second. He laughed a little and placed his hand on Felix’s lower back, pulling him a little closer and throwing a wink in Dorothea’s direction. “Just a misunderstanding.” He turned to Felix and frowned. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

Something in Felix snapped when he saw Sylvain wink at Dorothea, as if Felix was being ridiculous by getting upset and would be satiated with a cutesy apology. He hooked his fingers around Sylvain’s belt, pulled him close, and stood on his toes so he could look Sylvain in the eyes as he spoke. “A misunderstanding indeed, darling. Make it up to me later, and actually mean it.” 

He abruptly let go and turned away, leaving Sylvain to explain them both. 

✿ ✿ ✿

For the smallest moment there, Sylvain had thought Felix was going to kiss him, of all things. His breath caught in his chest when he’d stumbled forward, their faces mere inches apart. He had to laugh at himself for expecting that kind of thing from Felix. It was almost embarrassing that he’d thought it would happen, like Felix had tricked him into revealing something hidden about himself. 

Dorothea startled him out of his thoughts with a laugh. “You certainly chose a feisty one! To think you’d end up going after someone like that… it’s quite a surprise.” 

Why was he always the one who got stuck explaining their so-called relationship to people? “I guess it is. But love is strange, you know? The heart wants what it wants.” 

“Your heart wants Felix?” 

Her expression was innocent, but he suspected she was trying to get something out of him. He chose his words carefully, hoping she wouldn’t press him anymore. “Yes, it does. He’s different. I know it’s unexpected, but I’d never hurt him.” 

Dorothea pointed after Felix. “I want to discuss this some more, but I think you should probably go after him. He looked fairly hurt.” 

“I probably should, huh? I will after I clean all this up.” He stacked Felix’s cup on top of his and did the same for their plates. 

Dorothea looked curiously at him for a few moments, then nodded. “Don’t forget that I want to talk to you soon.” 

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it, beautiful.” He winked before catching himself, his blood running cold when he realized he’d just flirted with her without even thinking about it. Dorothea stared at him, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Well—”

“Force of habit!” Sylvain blurted, laughing nervously. “I’ll… I’m going to put these away. See you later.” 

She didn’t try to stop him as he rushed away, pieces of the tea set clutched unsteadily in his hands. 

✿ ✿ ✿

“Damn, you’re good today.” 

Felix scoffed, but he was smiling. It was easy enough to find Felix at the training grounds after Sylvain had cleaned up the tea. He probably spent more time there than in his own room. 

They were both panting as they circled each other, weapons at the ready. Sylvain took the opportunity to really look at Felix for a moment. He looked happier than Sylvain had seen him in days, with a wooden sword in his hand and his eyes bright with excitement. It made guilt well up in his chest, knowing what he’d done earlier without Felix there. They weren’t dating for real, so there was no reason for him to feel bad about it when the whole point of this arrangement was to get Sylvain a real girlfriend. So why did he feel so shitty for doing it? At any rate, it was nice to see him genuinely happy for once. 

Felix rushed forwards and hit the side of Sylvain’s torso when he was distracted. Sylvain stepped back and blocked him with his lance before he could swing again. 

“You’re distracted,” Felix said, going in for another round of swings that Sylvain had to rush to block with his weapon. 

“Maybe.” He pushed Felix’s sword back and tried to jab at him, but Felix easily deflected it and mercilessly barraged him with more attacks. Sylvain was not about to admit what was troubling him. “You’re not letting up, are you?” 

“No. You’re not going to learn if I don’t push you.” 

Sylvain frowned. “Too difficult. How long do we have to do this?” 

“Until your sorry ass can knock this sword out of my hands. Get to work.” 

As tired as he was, Sylvain refused to give up before Felix was satisfied. It was the least he could do to thank Felix for putting up with his antics and screw-ups. 

“Hey… do you want to go to a café sometime?” 

“Not particularly. But I won’t say no if it’s going to help keep up our act.” 

Right, Sylvain had to make sure people knew they were going together. It would be easy enough to casually mention it in class or something. Maybe they could even meet up with another couple and have a double date with them. 

“Okay, cool. I’ll find a nice place where we can go after class, and maybe invite another couple along with us.” 

After they’d sparred for another twenty minutes or so, Felix declared that they’d done enough for that day. He put up the training sword and left before Sylvain even finished putting his lance away. 

Sylvain wondered if he should have said something about Dorothea, but couldn’t decide what that would even be. Should he have celebrated the fact that a girl wanted to talk to him, or apologize for flirting and disrupting the precarious believability of their fake relationship? He could chase after Felix, but it felt like the time to do so had passed. He headed towards his room instead, wondering if he was making the right decision. 

✿ ✿ ✿

As the professor lectured the class about some battle technique Sylvain had stopped caring about ages ago, he was almost completely focused on the person beside him. Namely, Felix. His arms were wrapped tightly across his chest and his gaze bored into the wall, directed too far up to be aimed at the professor. 

Sylvain draped his arm over Felix’s shoulders and pressed his cheek to the top of Felix’s head, eyes trained on the professor so he appeared to be engaged in the lesson. “Could you try to look slightly less murderous? It ruins the whole ‘adorable couple’ look.” 

Felix jerked his head away and whispered back, his voice full of venom. “No. Shut up and get off me.” 

“How hard would it be to give me a smile or a kiss on the cheek once in a while? I kiss your cheek every day, so the least you could do is return it.” He planted a kiss on Felix’s temple, if only to push his buttons even further. 

“You little—get off! You know I don’t do that kind of thing. You can’t just expect to treat me like a lovesick schoolgirl and expect me to bend over backwards—“ 

Felix abruptly stopped talking. It took Sylvain a few moments to realize that the entire room had gone silent, and the professor had them fixed with a cool stare. 

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, boys?” 

Felix subtly placed his hand on Sylvain’s knee and dug the tips of his fingers in without meeting his eyes, silently warning him to say something, and fast. Sylvain dropped his arm and slid away from Felix, painfully aware of how awkward they must have looked. 

“Nope, nothing to see here. Lovers’ quarrel, you know? Sorry, Professor.” 

Someone giggled, and the lesson resumed, as if the interruption had never happened. But when Felix gave him an angry, hurt glare, Sylvain knew that he’d be hearing about this later. 

✿ ✿ ✿

After class, Ingrid pulled Sylvain into his room to talk, ignoring his protests. 

“What were you thinking? It seems I’ve underestimated how childish you can be. I can’t believe you.” She was scolding him before she even slammed the door shut. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Sylvain. You seriously need to grow up before you end up hurting someone.” 

“Fine, I’ll bite. This is about Felix, right? You’re overreacting. Jealous, perhaps?” Sylvain folded his arms over his chest. She was the one who wouldn’t help him in the first place, so it wasn’t like she had a right to judge him. 

Ingrid’s scowl deepened. “I don’t know what Felix was thinking when he agreed to this. He must have—I don’t even know! You never stop to think about the consequences that your actions will have. He must realize that, so why did he allow himself to get dragged into this?” 

“It’s not like that, Ingrid. The only consequences will be positive ones. It’s not your problem, anyway. This is between Felix and I, so there’s no reason for you to get yourself involved.” 

“I’ll be forced to get involved when I have to clean up the casualties you leave strewn behind you. At the very least, be careful.” 

Sylvain shrugged and sighed. “Come on, you know I’m not out to hurt anyone. This is just a temporary arrangement benefiting both parties.” 

“I can’t decide whether to be more angry at you or Felix, actually. You’re being immature, but he’s agreed to dig his own grave. Did you force him into it?” 

“Wh—Ingrid, please. Of course I didn’t force him. There may have been a tiny bit of wheedling involved, but I’d never make him do it against his will.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, lips set in a hard line. She seemed to be thinking over something, or maybe deciding the best method to chew him out some more. 

“It’s not right for you to lie to people like this. Unless you intend to date Felix purely because you want to, I’d suggest you quit while you’re ahead.” 

“Your concern flatters me, but I think I can handle it myself. I’ll assume you’ll be there for me so I can cry on your shoulder when I tragically break up with Felix?” He winked and sat down on his bed, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him alone so he could take a nap. “Oh… and could you maybe not mention this to anyone? The plan will be ruined if word gets out that I orchestrated this whole thing, not to mention how ashamed poor Felix would be if that happened.” 

Ingrid let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, I won’t say anything. For now, at least. I hope you think about what you’re doing. We’re going to discuss this again later.” 

“Yeah, yeah. See you.” He fell back onto the bed and sighed as she left. Multiple girls wanted to talk to him, but it was only because were concerned or curious about Felix. This plan might end up winning him more girls than it would for Sylvain. He frowned at the thought, annoyed. It would be just his luck that Felix ended up with a woman while Sylvain himself stayed tragically single. 

✿ ✿ ✿

“We need to set boundaries.” Felix hung up his sword and turned towards Sylvain, folding his arms over his chest. 

Another round of training had just ended, and Sylvain was eager to get back to his room to sleep. “Boundaries?” 

“Yes, boundaries.” 

Sylvain shrugged, rubbing the cuff of his jacket between his fingers. He quickly filed through his memories to find the thing he did that pissed Felix off enough to prompt him to bring this up, assuming something he did triggered this confrontation. It was probably building up over the past few days and set off by the scolding in the classroom. So he could either play his concerns off or be upfront about his actions. The latter was not sounding too appealing. “Um, isn’t the point of dating not having boundaries?” 

Felix rolled his eyes. “Was that a joke? Maybe that’s how you act with other people, but that’s not how it’s going to be with me.” 

Sylvain gave him a quick smile and leaned against the wall, bracing for an angry rant. “Okay, shoot.” 

Felix took a quick breath, his shoulders tense. “It gets on my nerves when you touch me.” 

Sylvain waited for more, but Felix just stared back at him. With every second that passed, his eyes grew darker, and whether it was from anger or shame or annoyance, Sylvain couldn’t tell. “Okay. I get that, but you know we can’t entirely cut touching from this arrangement.” 

Felix swallowed and shrugged, his gaze flicking towards the door like he was mapping an escape route. “I know.” 

“Work with me, Felix. We have to touch each other, but of course I’m going to listen if you don’t like it.” 

Felix drew back and said nothing, his face cloudy. 

Sylvain extended his hand towards him, keeping a space between them, and felt a little smile spread across his face. “You know I never want to actually make you mad at me, right? So let’s try a compromise: I’ll ask before I touch you, but you can’t say no purely to make my life difficult.” 

Felix lifted his gaze and suddenly gripped Sylvain’s hand, squeezing it with much more force than necessary with a challenge in his eyes, like he was daring Sylvain to comment. He didn’t say anything, though, just happy knowing Felix was willing to hold his hand, however aggressive his methods might be. It wasn’t worth criticizing him if he was going to draw back. 

“There you go,” Sylvain whispered, pulling Felix a little closer. He held out his other hand, which Felix grabbed after muttering a few curses under his breath. 

“See? This isn’t bad. How are you ever going to get a girl if you can’t stand holding her hand?” 

Felix’s expression darkened and he dropped his hands before starting to storm away. Sylvain cursed under his breath and chased after him. 

“Hey, hey, Felix! I was just joking.” Sylvain stepped in front of him and cleared his throat. “Please don’t go.” 

As Felix silently held Sylvain’s gaze, Ingrid’s words suddenly echoed in his mind. You never stop to think about the consequences that your actions will have. Was he really that insensitive? Felix knew he was just messing around, didn’t he? 

“I… look, I’m sorry. You’re the one helping me out and I guess I haven’t really been all that nice to you.” It was incredibly difficult to figure Felix out. Sylvain couldn’t quite decide how to act towards him. Everything he’d done so far only managed to upset him time after time. It wasn’t like he went into this expecting Felix to be happy about it, but nothing he did seemed to ease the tension between them. He’d thought it might be better to keep things light and joke about the situation, but all that seemed to do was frustrate Felix. 

“I’m the one who agreed to this, and I’m going to see it through. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for you, and it certainly doesn’t mean you can treat me like a toy. Get your act together.” 

“What do you mean? I don’t see you as a toy.” 

Felix ran his finger over the hilt of one of the training swords and sighed, his brow furrowed. “You’re pretty blind for someone who spends most of his time ogling women. I’m going up to my room.” 

“Felix…” 

His plea fell on deaf ears as Felix waved him away and exited the training grounds. 

Sylvain stifled a groan. What was he doing wrong? 

✿ ✿ ✿

Felix had to stop this. He was getting too close to the fire buried deep in his chest and sooner or later he was going to get burned. His feelings were spinning out of control and he couldn’t stop himself from letting them slip through his fingers. Honestly, he regretted calling out Sylvain for being blind. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know why Felix was so moody; Felix was the one who’d struggled to choke off his own feelings for so long. 

Usually, the ache of a good training session was something he found satisfying, but today it was overwhelming when combined with the exhaustion of dealing with Sylvain. 

He closed the book he was studying and pushed it away so he could lean his elbows on his desk and rub his eyes, feeling lost. He’d be humiliated to admit it out loud, but he felt so helpless when it came to Sylvain. He was infuriating, but Felix still stubbornly… he couldn’t even admit his feelings to himself. He couldn’t stamp out the feelings he had for Sylvain no matter how desperately he tried. 

He felt his lips twitch up in a bitter smile. As if it even mattered what he felt towards Sylvain. He would never consider if Felix felt that way towards him, and even if he did, it wasn’t like the feeling was mutual. Even thinking about it like this was a waste of time. 

He slumped forward onto the desk, holding his head up with his hands. Instead of feeling happy that Sylvain had to treat him like his partner, he felt hollowed out by it. His affection was nothing more than a costume, something fake he could shed at any time. 

Sylvain was the one with the upper hand. He could pull the rug out from under Felix’s feet at any moment, and that was the reason why he couldn’t open up to Sylvain. Why he couldn’t stand his touches and smiles, because it was a knife through his chest to acknowledge that they weren’t real. 

It was probably hours after midnight, and Felix still couldn’t stop thinking about him. His eyes burned from lack of sleep and overuse after distracting himself by doing schoolwork and rereading the studying material over and over just to think about something other than Sylvain. 

He let his head fall onto the desk and shut his eyes, hoping the physical discomfort would distract him from agonizing over the same topics again and again. He only allowed himself to acknowledge how much being with Sylvain like this hurt in his final moments of consciousness before sleep, terrified to confront it during the harsh, revealing light of the day.

[genshinluvr]

Haus of Harbingers

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You've always wanted to see the inside of the Harbingers' estate, and now you finally did! You never knew why the men didn't want you to go over there to visit other than because the estate belonged to the four Harbingers. Who knew that this would be the first and last time you visited the Haus of Harbingers.

Note: I think this is a somewhat anticipated chapter; people want to know what the Harbingers' estate looks like and the reader visiting it. So, here it is! >:D I took a while to update this on a Saturday because I went to a Genshin meet-up and was in line for a few hours. I was also in cosplay, and it took me some time to get out of it 💀 I'm trying to keep up with my updates while midterms are going on. Then again, the quarter is nearing the end, and I am hoping that I did well this quarter of the school year 🥹 Hoping the next quarters will be good to me. Anyway! I hope you all like this fic! Remember that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Other than the reader getting a minor cut, there are not many warnings in this story that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 8k

You lay in the hammock underneath the tree in the abode, staring up at the leaves that covered the brilliant blue sky and fluffy cotton candy white clouds. You turn on your side and are now facing the secondary mansion in the abode. The manor belongs to the Harbingers, a place that you’ve never visited before nor have you stepped foot into. Slowly sitting up on the hammock, you keep your eyes on the estate, your head tilting to the side.

“Am I allowed to step foot into their estate?” You mutter to yourself. “They did say, that one time, that I can always come over whenever I want and that I’m always welcomed.” You stroke your chin and slowly get up from the hammock. 

You place your left foot on the grass and hop out of the hammock, only for your right foot to get caught in between the ropes. You tumble to the ground with a loud thud, your right leg dangling in the air. You wince and reach up towards the rope to free yourself from the restraints.

“That fall looks painful. Do you want me to get the first aid kit?” 

You jolt when someone suddenly speaks up. You look up from where you lay and smile sheepishly when you and Tighnari make eye contact. Tighnari walks over to where you’re lying before squatting in front of you, his ears twitching.

“Other than my pride being bruised, I think something else is bruised as well.” You feel your face heat up. 

Tighnari stands up and frees you from the restraints of the hammock. You sigh in relief, rubbing your foot. Tighnari holds his hand out for you to take, and you grab it with a grateful smile. You dust your clothes off and let Tighnari lead you back to the estate with him walking ahead of you. You look over at the Harbingers' mansion with curiosity. 

“Snookums, what are you looking at? You should be looking at me instead!” Childe whines, trotting up to you.

You snap out of your thoughts and look over at Childe with a smile. “Alright, you have my attention, you big baby.” You snort, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting him pull you into the mansion. 

“[Y/N], did something happen?” Baizhu asks, walking up to you while gazing at you worriedly.

“I…. yes and no?” You look at Baizhu inquisitively. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking me about specifically. Can you please clarify that for me?” 

Albedo stands next to Baizhu. “We saw Tighnari walking to the infirmary while muttering something about getting a first aid kit for you because you injured yourself.”

“Oh! Well, my foot got caught in the ropes of the hammock, and I fell to the ground. Other than that, I’m okay!” You said, giving the men thumbs up. “I do have a minor scratch, so I might as well get that disinfected and wrapped up in a bandaid, just in case.” 

Tighnari comes back with a small first aid kit in his hands. He gestures for you to sit down on the couch so he can treat your minor wound. You walk over to the couch and sit down on the empty couch across from Zhongli, who is reading a book that he has gotten from the shelf in the abode’s library. Zhongli looks up from his book and gives you a smile, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table between you two.

“Did you enjoy your time alone on the hammock, dearest?” Zhongli asks softly.

You smile widely and nod your head. “Yes, I did! It was nice to sit on the hammock alone under the tree’s shade. Although, I couldn’t help but miss listening to your stories whenever we sit under in the hammock in the shade.” You reach toward Zhongli and lightly poke his chest.

“You enjoy those stories? In my opinion, most of the stories are kind of a snooze fest to me! But the ones that I really like, and get my blood pumping, would be the stories about the archon war!” Itto says, plopping down beside you and draping his arm over your shoulders.

“Geez, Itto. No need to throw shade at Zhongli and his stories.” Cyno mutters, stifling his laughter and clearing his throat loudly.

Al Haitham slowly looks over at Cyno, his left eye twitching. “What is up with you and pun jokes?”

Venti chuckles and lightly nudges Al Haitham. “Oh, come on, Al Haitham! Lighten up! Cyno’s jokes are pretty funny and clever,” Venti says. Al Haitham mutters under his breath and lets out a slow sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly.

“Dear archons, why is Tighnari putting a bandaid on you? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Gorou asks the minute he steps into the living room, his ears twitching with worry and his eyes zeroing in on the area where Tighnari is disinfecting.

You shake your head. “My foot got caught in the ropes of the hammock, and I fell. I’m okay; nothing to worry about! There’s a tiny scratch, and Tighnari is putting a bandaid over it, even though he didn’t have to do it.” You pat Tighnari’s head. “All of you are worrywarts, but it’s cute!” You added, putting your hands in your lap.

Diluc sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “How can we not worry? Do you not remember the time when you wanted to pet those rifthounds on Tsurumi Island?” Diluc asks. 

You pursed your lips and lightly tugged on the hem of your shirt. “Listen, that was when I first arrived in Teyvat. I wanted to see if the things in your world would affect me or not.” You shrugged your shoulders as if it was the obvious answer. “Plus, I bet they look adorable as babies! Well, pups.” You clap your hand lightly.

You couldn’t help but realize that living in the central estate is full of life and energy where you and the majority of the men reside. While the main manor of the abode is bigger and full of life, you can’t help but wonder what the atmosphere is like over at the Harbingers’ estate. Was it just as full of life, or was it more calm and quiet over there? After all, there are, like, four people living in that estate compared to the main mansion.

“What’s on your mind?” Heizou asks, poking your forehead lightly and keeping his index finger connected to your forehead. 

You blink up at Heizou and grab onto his finger, lightly squeezing it. “I was wondering….” You trailed off, slowly spacing out.

It was now Aether’s turn to poke you in the forehead to grab your attention. “You’re wondering what?” Aether asks; he tilts his head to the side cutely. The way he did it reminds you of a cat.

You press your lips into a thin line. “This estate is always full of life. There’s never a dull moment here, like ever,” You said. 

Now, how are you going to be able to ask them for permission to go to the Harbingers’ mansion? It’s not like you need supervising wherever you do. Still, because most men are wary of the Harbingers—heck, even Scaramouche and Childe are skeptical of the other four Harbingers and their intentions! Surely they would mind if you paid the four Harbingers a visit, right? After all, you do need a change of scenery once in a while! Plus, they did invite you to come and visit their estate, so it would be rude to leave that invitation unanswered.

“There’s never a dull moment in this estate because we’re constantly surrounded by idiots who wreak havoc in the estate.” Xiao huffs, looking over toward Itto, Childe, Aether, Venti, and Heizou. The quintet gives Xiao a look of disbelief; some look offended (Childe), while the others (Aether and Venti) try to act like they didn’t hear anything that came out of Xiao’s mouth. You snort and shake your head.

“I love how this mansion doesn’t have a dull moment. This makes me wonder about the atmosphere over at the Harbingers’ estate.” You said thoughtfully, resting your back against the couch. “I’ve never been there, so I wouldn’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders with a yearning sigh.

“You want to visit the Harbingers’ estate, don’t you?” Scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you, his arms crossed over his torso.

“Maybeeeeee. Yes….” You trail off. “I just want to see what it looks like on the inside! They also invited me to come over whenever I want to, and I think it’s rude if I leave their invitation unanswered!” You quickly added.

“I don’t know. As much as I want you to visit the Harbingers’ estate, I can’t help but get a strange feeling from their estate.” Ayato mutters.

“What, you guys think that they have some secret laboratory where they experiment on people without our knowledge?” You ask sarcastically. The men remain silent and stare at you, their lips pressed in a thin line. “Oh my gosh, do you guys think they actually do that?” You whisper, and your eyes widen with surprise.

“They are Harbingers, so it’s possible that they perform outlandish experiments on creatures and humans,” Kaeya replies.

“Especially Dottore; they call him “The Doctor” for a reason,” Thoma interjects, propping both of his hands on his hips.

You sigh softly. “How about this; you all can come along with me to make sure that nothing happens! I’m sure nothing will happen, but to ease your worries, you call can go visit their estate with me!” You suggest.

“I think paying a visit to their estate would be a nice change! After all, they do visit our mansion quite a lot. It’s only fair that we’re the visitors, and they’re the hosts.” Kazuha says with a faint smile on his face.

You grin widely and clap your hands. “Great! Let’s go visit them now!” You said. You got up from the couch and skipped towards the front door of the estate.

“Oh, you mean today. I thought we were going to pay the Harbingers a visit the next day.” Dainsleif blinks at you before turning to look at the other men around him.

“Wow, Dainsleif, I didn’t know you’re a rhyme god,” Cyno commented, the corners of his lips curving up in a small smile.

Al Haitham smirks. “Looks like you can learn a thing or two from him, Cyno. Your jokes need improvement, for sure.” Al Haitham feigns a yawn. Al Haitham lets out a grunt when Cyno elbows him in the ribs with his elbows. 

Tighnari lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes his head at Al Haitham and Cyno. “Children these days. Always bickering and picking on each other over the littlest things.” Tighnari lets out a small “tsk” of displeasure.

“I mean, I did want to visit them today, but if tomorrow is preferable, then we can do that instead!” You said, rocking back and forth on your heels. “I’m okay with whichever options you all choose as long as we visit their estate.” You said.

“Should we inform them of our visitation tomorrow?” Zhongli asks. You pause for a moment and caress your chin with your hand, and pinch the fat of your chin. You want the visitation to be a surprise, but it would be rude to suddenly drop by without informing the four men about it. They might need time to make their estate look presentable if there is anything they need to adjust and clean. 

“That depends. Are we only visiting those Harbingers just to see what the inside of their mansion looks like, or are we going to stay for some time and have breakfast or lunch over at their manor?” Diluc raises his eyebrows. 

Childe snorts. “If we’re staying over for breakfast or lunch, Thoma should be the one to cook. Those men may be good at their job, but cooking isn’t their specialty.” 

“Oh? So despite me being the visitor, I still have to cook for the hosts of that estate?” Thoma huffs, narrowing his eyes at Childe.

“I think we’re just going to visit them! After all, I don’t think they have a dining table that sits up to over twenty people. After all, there are four people living in that estate compared to our mansion.” You commented as you walked back to the loveseat where you had sat previously. “Plus, I have a small feeling that none of you want to stay for long, so we might as well visit and get a tour of their estate,” You added.

“Do you think they have a lab like Albedo?” Heizou whispers to Aether.

Aether nods his head. “Oh, no doubt about it! I know Dottore has some underground lair where he has experiments and clones of himself.” Aether replies in a faint whisper.

“Dottore is a strange man, don’t you think?” Venti asks.

Ayato lets out an amused laugh. “They’re all strange. I don’t understand how they’re able to convince us to let them reside in their own estate in our abode,” Ayato says, brushing away the speck of dust on his shoulders.

Dainsleif nods his head. “Yeah, you and me both,” Dainsleif mutters. 

Lately, there has been tension between the men and the four Harbingers. While the Harbingers are nice to you, the other men couldn’t help but be wary around them. Childe and Scaramouche would always stick to your side if any of the other Harbingers were present. Despite them being comrades (well, former comrades on Scaramouche’s end), the six Harbingers are tense around each other and would look like they’re ready to draw out their weapons and possibly kill each other on the spot if they could.

It’s not any better with the other men as well. Especially Diluc; you knew the red-headed man hated the Harbingers with burning passion. Diluc tries his best to keep his distance from the Harbingers; he can tolerate Childe and Scaramouche to an extent. But with the other four Harbingers, that’s a different story, and Diluc would try his best to avoid them like the plague. Dottore, in particular, loves messing with Diluc, and he knows how protective Diluc is of you. Dottore would test Diluc’s patience by teasing you to the point where Diluc launched his claymore in Dottore’s direction, almost decapitating the man.

Needless to say, the tensions are high between these men, and you’re not even sure if they should reside in the same abode at this point. Yes, they live in separate estates, but it doesn’t quell the tension between these men.

“Well, since we’re visiting their mansion tomorrow, I’m going to take a nap.” You said, getting up from the couch. “I’m really exhausted.” You rub your eyes.

“Oh? Are you tired because of how often you’ve been studying for the Akademiya?” Albedo asks, looking at you curiously. 

You nod your head to Albedo’s question. It’s midterms week at Sumeru Akademiya, and you’ve been studying nonstop. The only time you’re able to take a break from your studies is when you are lying in the hammock underneath the tree at the abode, which was a moment ago.

“Remember to take a break in between your studies; we don’t want you to have an emotional breakdown like last time,” Kaeya says, raising his right eyebrow at you.

You nod your head. “I know, Kaeya. I have been taking fifteen-minute breaks in between my studies, but then that fifteen minutes will extend to twenty or thirty minutes long.” You scratch the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

“If you find yourself needing to take a break from your studies, you can always hang out with one of us as a way to relax. We can find some activities to do together!” Gorou suggests, stopping before you.

Your eyes light up. “Oh! That’s a great idea, Gorou! I’m going to do that the next time I study!” You said, smiling at the man in front of you. “Anyway, I’m going to go take a nap now. I feel my eyelids threatening to close. Goodnight, everyone.” You let out a sigh before making your way toward the stairs.

“It’s early afternoon, but goodnight.” Baizhu chuckles, patting the top of your head when you walk past by him.

Itto ruffles your hair with a big grin on his face. “Goodnight, cutie! I’ll see you when you wake up from your nap!” 

“Yeah, see you all when I wake up from my nap!” You said, letting out a small yawn as you walked up the stairs of the estate. 

You open the door to your bedroom and close the door quietly. You walk to your bed and plop on top of it, letting your body relax into the soft mattress and comforter. You feel your eyelids grow heavy, and you’re out like a light.

When you come to your consciousness, you notice that your bedroom is lit up by the sunlight peeking from the curtains. You sit up on your bed and look around, dazed and confused. You threw your blanket off your body and made your way toward the door. How long did you take a nap? You feel your stomach growling; it is almost as if it’s desperately begging for you to get something to eat.

You walk down the stairs of the estate and see the men sitting at the table, food sitting in front of them while they converse with each other. What caught you by surprise was the food itself. They’re having breakfast. When you went to bed, it was early afternoon, according to Baizhu. You rub your eyes and stop in your tracks, staring at the men quizzically. 

“Oh! It looks like someone is finally awake from their slumber,” said Kazuha as he lifted his cup to his lips and slowly took a sip of his water.

You sit on the empty seat and look at them with confusion. “How long was I asleep for?” You ask, running your hands through your hair.

“Well, you went to bed in the early afternoon. It is now the next day.” Xiao commented, his amber eyes shining with amusement.

You blink at Xiao, your eyes almost as wide as the dinner plates that Thoma has placed in front of you. “I was asleep for that long?!” You squeaked.

Scaramouche nods his head. “Yes. Now, before you ask why we didn’t wake you up from your nap, we did. I’m surprised you didn’t remember us waking you up for lunch and dinner.” Scaramouche smiles at you. You sit back in your seat and press your lips together, trying to think about what had happened after you fell asleep. But you have no recollection of any of the men waking you up from your nap.

“Huh. I must’ve been really tired.” You scratch your head. “I have no memory of waking up at all.”

“Eat your breakfast, and we’ll explain everything to you,” Dainsleif says. Dainsleif cuts into his pancakes with a knife, and his eyes remain focused on you.

You nod your head and grab the cutlery, digging into your breakfast. While you eat your breakfast, each man would explain to you what happened after you went to your bedroom to take a nap. Apparently, after you went to take a “nap,” you took a nap for hours. Whenever they check up on you to see if you’re okay, you’re completely out cold and wouldn’t wake up to the littlest things like how you usually do. Considering you’re a light sleeper, to them, it’s concerning that you slept through the things the men did.

Childe smacked your face with a pillow; you continued to sleep, unmoving. Itto attempts to scream into your ears, but you didn’t flinch one bit. Aether pinched your arm; you didn’t jolt from the pain. Instead, you would mumble and brush his hands away from you, rolling to your side while hugging a Childe body pillow that Childe has gotten for you as a gag gift.

“Huh, that is weird,” You mutter. “At least all of you were able to wake me up and get me to eat something. I guess studying so much for the midterms at the Akademiya has put my body under so much stress that my body has shut down on its own.” 

Childe smiles and runs his hands through your bedhead. “You were so sleepy that you clung onto me while attempting to eat lunch and dinner. You kept mumbling about how sleepy you were, but you wanted to continue to study.” His bottom lip juts out slightly.

“[Y/N], you haven’t been pulling all-nighters, have you?” Al Haitham asks, resting his arm on the table while gazing at you with scrutiny.

You clear your throat and reach for the glass cup of water in front of you. “As much as I want to lie to all of you about this, I can’t.” You sigh dramatically. “Yes, I have been pulling all-nighters for my studies. But I’m doing well in school!” You said.

“I find it interesting how there are different mattress sizes.” Cyno mused, stroking his chin.

Tighnari’s fork stops in mid-air in front of his face. “What are you up to, Cyno?” Tighnari sighs, placing his fork down on the plate.

Cyno sits back in his seat and fiddles with the fork in his hands. “If there is a king and queen-size mattress, where does the prince sleep?” He furrows his eyebrows while gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Huh, speaking of king and queen mattresses, I never realized that there are no prince or princess mattresses.” Aether mumbles to Heizou.

Heizou snorts. “That’s because it sounds ridiculous compared to a king and queen-sized bed,” Heizou whispers to Aether, lightly hitting him on the shoulders.

“What do you think, [Y/N]? You’re an Akademiya student; surely you should know where the prince sleeps.” Venti says, leaning on the table while wiping his lips with the cloth napkin.

You blink at Venti. “I may be an Akademiya student, but I’m no expert when it comes to jokes,” You reply. You know that Cyno has a joke in mind, but you’re not entirely sure what the answer is, but you know that the answer is going to irritate Al Haitham, as per usual. You hum and tap on your chin, trying to think of what the answer could be, but your mind ends up becoming blank. You glance over at Cyno and shrug your shoulders.

“He sleeps on the heir mattress.” Cyno smiles.

“Wait, that’s actually pretty good,” Thoma exclaims, laughing under his breath while Al Haitham stares at Cyno with a blank look. 

“How do you come up with these jokes, Cyno? It’s impressive that you can crack a joke about anything at any time,” said Ayato.

“If I recall correctly, Cyno carries around a joke book with him,” You murmur. “I’m impressed that Cyno is able to come up with this joke on the spot.” You smile at Cyno.

“What time is it right now?” Baizhu murmurs; he gets up from his seat to check on the clock in the living room. 

“It’s a quarter to ten in the morning,” Albedo says.

“Is that so?” Kaeya murmurs, glancing over to check the time.

“Since it’s a quarter to ten o’clock, we should finish up our breakfast and walk over to the Harbingers’ mansion to get a tour of their estate,” Gorou says, getting up from his seat with his plate in his hands.

Itto’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot about the tour of the Harbingers’ mansion!” Itto gasps, lightly smacking his forehead with the palm of his hands.

You lean over and lightly pat Itto’s back. “It’s okay, Itto! I forgot about it too.” You pursed your lips before cutting the pancake into small slices.

“Damn, we shouldn’t have mentioned it then,” Scaramouche whispers, burying his face into his hands.

Diluc sighs softly and nods his head. “For once, I agree with a Harbinger,” Diluc mutters as he finishes up his breakfast.

Seeing people finishing up their breakfast, you begin to shovel pancakes into your mouth to the point where you look like a chipmunk. Zhongli looks at you worriedly and places his hand on your back, lightly rubbing your back as if he is comforting you in a way.

“Dearest, please do not eat too fast. You’ll choke and give yourself indigestion.” Zhongli chides; Zhongli grabs onto a napkin and wipes the corner of your lips. 

You swallow the pancakes and wince when you feel them go slowly down your esophagus. You slowly nod your head, rubbing your chest as the pancakes slowly make their way down your throat and to your stomach. You should have taken Zhongli’s advice and slowed down, but instead, you continued to eat fast.

“Here, drink your water, and hopefully, it’ll help,” Xiao says, handing you your cup of water. You take the cup from Xiao’s hands and let out a strained sigh.

“Oh no, do I have to get the bucket?” Tighnari asks, propping his hands on his hips while examining your face closely.

You shake your head and wave him off. “I’m okay, I ate too fast, and now it’s going down my esophagus very slowly. It hurts, but I should be okay once it’s completely down.” You grunt. You lift the cup to your lips and take a slow sip from it.

“You don’t need to rush. Just take your time with your breakfast,” Xiao sighs, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from your forehead.

You mumble to yourself and nod your head. Seeing people eat fast and finish ahead of you makes you feel a little bit embarrassed because you’re kind of a slow eater depending on what food you’re eating. But in general, you’re a slow eater because you get distracted by many things. In your world, you’re always on your phone whenever you eat because your phone is your source of entertainment while you’re eating or relaxing.

Childe chuckles. “You must really want to visit the Harbingers’ mansion,” Childe says. 

You shrug your shoulders. “It’d be nice to visit their estate! But I don’t like eating alone, and seeing people finish their food so fast and getting up to leave makes me eat faster because I didn’t want to be left behind.” You mumble. You quickly shake your head and clear your throat. “Let’s not talk about my fear of abandonment right now. I’m saving that for therapy,” You said.

Fifteen minutes later, you finally finished eating your breakfast, washing the dishes, and putting them away. Now, you and the men stand in front of the Harbingers’ estate after getting ready for the day. The mansion is almost as big as the primary estate in the abode, only it’s one hundred square feet smaller, but it is a tad bit taller than the main manor.

In front of you and the twenty men is a vast entrance of the Harbingers’ mansion. The door is black with intricate silver designs. You raise your fist and lightly knock on the door of the Harbingers’ estate.

“This is pretty nice up close,” Aether says in awe, his yellow-gold eyes scanning the estate with wonder. 

Scaramouche scoffs. “Please, ours is better than theirs. Their estate is probably filled with antiques,” Scaramouche mutters.

“Considering they’re old, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do have antiques in their estate.” Heizou snickers, covering his mouth with his hand.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “You do realize that we live in an estate with archons and immortals? Scaramouche is one of them too.” You nudge Heizou’s ribs lightly with your elbows.

Venti giggles. “I don’t collect antiques, but I do know a certain blockhead that does.” Venti looks over at Zhongli, who glares at him in return.

“Shh! Someone’s coming!” Gorou hisses, his ears perking up while staring at the door on high alert.

The lock of the grand front door clicks, and the door slowly opens. Pantalone peers through the door and looks at everyone with surprise. A smile appears on Pantalone’s face. He opens the door widely and leans against it. 

“Oh, we weren’t expecting guests.” Pantalone hums softly, stroking his chin. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” His eyes land on you, and his smile grows wider. 

You laugh shyly. “Sorry for the sudden visitation, Pantalone. I remember you all inviting us to come over to visit the Harbingers’ estate, but we never got around to it until now!” You said, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I should have informed you four about the visitation a day prior, but I never got around to it.” Your cheeks heat up with shame.

Pantalone reaches forward and grabs your hand, pulling you into a hug. “It’s alright, my precious angel. Although your and the others’ appearance is unexpected, it’s not an unpleasant surprise.” Pantalone coos, running his gloved fingers through your hair.

“Pantalone, who is at the door? We’re not expecting any guests.” You hear Pierro say gruffly from the inside of the Harbingers’ estate.

Footsteps approach from behind Pantalone; Dottore peers down at you and looks at the other men with an amused smile on his face. Nothing has happened yet, but you can already sense the tension slowly rising between Pantalone, Dottore, and the twenty men behind you.

“Oh, little butterfly! You’re here!” Dottore smiles at you. Dottore looks up at the men, giving them a fake smile. “And others.” Dottore clears his throat.

“Hi, Dottore! Remember how you guys said we’re always welcome to stop by the Harbingers’ estate to visit? Well, today is the day!” You said, smiling up at both Dottore and Pantalone.

Dottore chuckles and nods his head. “Yes, I do remember that, little butterfly. Although we were inviting you and not the others, that’s okay. I guess the others can get a tour of the estate as well…” Dottore trails off, stroking his chin.

“So? Are you not going to invite us in?” Kaeya asks, crossing his arms over his torso with his eyebrow raised at Dottore and Pantalone.

Pantalone and Dottore gesture for everyone to enter their estate, leading the way. You and the men follow after the two Harbingers into their mansion. The floors are marbled tiled floors; white, glossy, and clean. The walls are dark gray, with pitch-black pillars holding up the loft and black spiral stairs leading up to the second floor. 

Dark blue curtains covered the windows, blocking out any sunlight from peeking into the estate. In the middle of the ground of the estate is a fluffy white rug; you presumed that they must have skinned a Frostarm Lawachurl and turned its fur into a luxurious carpet of some sort. You wouldn’t be surprised if you see the Frostarm Lawachurl’s skull on display somewhere.

“Interesting interior design choice.” Diluc murmurs, his red eyes examining his surroundings.

“It looks quite luxurious, although the color schemes and the marbled tiles make the estate seem….” Kazuha trails off, unsure of what to say about the atmosphere of the Harbingers’ mansion.

You rub your arms and shiver. “Is it just me, or is it cold in here?” You ask.

Ayato looks over at Kazuha. “I believe you’re looking for the word cold. The interior design, the color scheme, and the marble floors do make the estate seem colder,” Ayato says.

Dainsleif lets out an amused huff of breath. “It’s humorous how the atmosphere, the interior design, and the color scheme fits the people that inhabit this estate.” The corner of Dainsleif’s lips quirks up.

Al Haitham nods his head. “Very fitting. I’m not surprised that the interior is almost as cold as the residents.” 

Capitano scoffs in disgust. “Did you all drop by to make snide comments about the estate and the residents? If so, you can escort yourselves out of the estate and never return.” Capitano crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, no, no. [Y/N] was looking forward to visiting your estate yesterday. You wouldn’t want to let them down now, would you?” Albedo asks, stepping forward with a small frown on his face.

“[Y/N] can stay for as long as they like. You twenty can leave the Harbingers’ estate if all you’re going to do is insult it.” Capitano states. You can almost hear him roll his eyes beneath his mask (helmet?).

“Let’s not argue now. The sooner we get this tour started, the sooner they can leave.” Pierro sighs, almost rolling his eyes.

“Except for [Y/N]. They can stay for as long as they like!” Pantalone says, looking over at you with a soft smile on his face. You give Pantalone a small smile and continue to rub your arms, hoping the friction you’re creating is going to provide you with some kind of heat to warm you up. You don’t know how the Harbingers’ can live in a cold estate; the cold temperature adds to the atmosphere of the mansion.

“Here, take my coat. I don’t want you to get cold,” Diluc says. He takes his coat off and is beginning to give you his jacket when Thoma shakes his head and holds his hand up, causing Diluc to pause.

Thoma takes his coat off and holds it towards you. “It’s okay, Diluc! I can give [Y/N] my jacket instead! You can put your coat back on!” 

“Awkward.” Itto blurts out before quickly covering his mouth when Diluc and Thoma look over at him with unamused looks on their faces.

“My, my, fighting over who gets to give [Y/N] their jacket, are we?” Baizhu chuckles.

You stare at Thoma and Diluc’s jacket for a moment. As much as you would love to bundle up in their jackets, seeing them bicker over who gets to give you their coat is something you don’t want to deal with at the moment.

You laugh nervously and shake your head. “It’s okay, Thoma and Diluc! You two don’t have to give me your jackets.” You scratch your head. “In fact, I’m not feeling cold anymore!” You lie.

Everyone raises their eyebrows at you. You feel your face become hot under their gaze. Shit, are you that bad of a liar? 

“I promise! I’m not cold anymore!” You lie once again. “Plus, I don’t want any of you to argue over who should be giving me their jackets and who shouldn’t.” You add.

Zhongli sighs softly. “If you say so…. If you do get cold, please let us know.” Zhongli gives your shoulder a light squeeze.

You nod your head. “Now! Let’s get this tour over with! I’m really curious about what I’m going to see!” 

“Alright, I will lead the way,” said Pierro.

The tour of the Harbingers’ estate starts on the first floor of the estate. They show you all where the kitchen and dining are located; the kitchen is the same size as the kitchen at the central estate in the abode. In the dining room, the dining table is big enough for ten people to dine at. It’s a good thing that you and the men choose to eat at your estate rather than at the Harbingers’ estate because there was no way everyone would be able to sit and eat at the Harbingers’ mansion without people being left out.

Pierro gestures to the grand library on the first floor, second door to the right of the Harbingers’ estate. “We have a library that contains all kinds of books. Any book you desire, we have them here,” Pierro says.

“Do you guys have smut?” You mumble.

“Pardon?” Capitano leans in close to hear what you say. “Can you repeat that? We didn’t quite get it.” Capitano says.

You clear your throat. “I was wondering if you guys have the textbooks that I’m using for my studies right now. After all, Pierro did say that you guys have any books that we desire in the library.” 

Dottore throws his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to his side. “That would depend on what textbook it is. If you’re asking about textbooks that are about botany, then there are a few of them in the library.” 

Your eyes light up. “Wait, so does that mean that I don’t need to rent out the textbooks from the House of Daena? I can just rent them out at the library in your estate?!” You ask excitedly. 

Pantalone chuckles and ruffles your hair endearingly. “There’s no need for you to rent out a textbook from our library, [Y/N]. You can take them whenever you need them, then return them to the library once you don’t need them anymore.” 

You sigh in relief. “Oh, thank archons! I won’t be losing a large amount of mora to the Akademiya in the next quarter.” 

The tour continued, and everyone made their way up the stairs in the Harbingers’ unique estate. There are portraits of each Harbinger hanging on the wall with their names and titles below the image. None of them are smiling in their paintings, giving the picture a slightly eerie feeling to them.

“Hmph. Self-portraits hanging on the wall of the estate? A little self-absorbed, might I say.” Diluc mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Childe nudges Diluc’s ribs with his elbows. “As much as I am wary of them as you are, I wouldn’t start trouble with them if I were you. They’re far more dangerous than I am.” Childe mumbles, giving his comrades a fake smile. “I know you have this whole Darknight schtick, but for your safety and [Y/N]’s safety, I wouldn’t cross the line when it comes to those four.” 

You look around the second floor and walk over to the biggest window on the second floor. You peek between the curtains and gasp softly at the view in awe. The scenery is beautiful, and it lets you see almost the entirety of the abode.

“It would be nice to have this kind of view outside of my bedroom window.” You sigh wistfully. “The view from my bedroom window is nice as well, but this view is breathtaking.” You mutter.

Pierro approaches you from behind and places his hand on your shoulder. “We have a spare bedroom for you if you plan on spending the night here, away from the twenty other men,” Pierro says.

Your eyes widen. “I have a bedroom here?”

Pantalone walks up to you and Pierro and nods his head. “Of course! When putting this entire estate together, we also made sure to include some things for you in case you want to stay with us temporarily.” 

“Can I see what the room looks like?” You ask excitedly, trying your best to contain your excitement and curiosity.

Dottore chuckles. “Of course! I’ll lead the way to your bedroom in this estate. The decor is rather simple, but the more you visit, the more we can add some things to your bedroom.” Dottore says, gesturing for you to follow after him.

You walk over to Dottore and let the man lead the way to your apparent bedroom at the Harbingers’ estate. You didn’t expect the Harbingers to make an extra bedroom for you at their manor; in fact, you didn’t think they would even think about you when putting the estate together! It’s sweet! 

Dottore reaches towards you and grabs your hand, pulling you along with him to walk by his side. Dottore snakes his right arm around your waist and throws a look over his shoulders, locks eyes with the men two feet behind you two, and gives them a Cheshire smile before leading the way. Without hesitation, Diluc, Scaramouche, Childe, Al Haitham, Xiao, Cyno, and Zhongli follow after you and Dottore while the other men stand in place. Dainsleif clenches his hands into fists, slowly crossing his arms over his torso, his right hand coming up to his face, and he closes his eyes. Some day, Dainsleif will lose his composure and beat one of these Harbingers into a pulp for testing his patience. But for now, all Dainsleif can do is remain calm and not let their words and actions get to him.

Dainsleif lets out a soft sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows furrowing. “He’s testing my patience,” Dainsleif mutters, shaking his head.

Capitano lets out a huff of breath, almost sounding like a snort. “That’s Dottore for you. He likes to rile people up,” Capitano says. The men that remain behind mutter under their breaths before following after you and Dottore.

You and Dottore stop in front of a door; the wooden door is painted metallic silver, and intricate black designs decorate the bedroom door. Dottore nudges you forward towards the door lightly. You turn to look at him, only to see Dottore motioning you to open the bedroom door. You turn back to the bedroom door and grab the door handle— which is made of precious gems of Teyvat. Of course, the door handle would be fancy as well. You twist the door handle and slowly open the door.

The bedroom decor is black and white, giving it a luxurious feel to it. Black curtains lined with gold trimming hung over the massive bedroom window. A huge black fur rug in the middle of the bedroom; a large crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, tiny crystals hanging from the larger gemstones. The bedroom is not too hot, not too cold. It was almost just right.

“Wow, what a fancy bedroom!” Itto says, plopping down on the massive bed, and lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a moan. 

You point at the bed. “That’s a king-sized bed,” You state the obvious.

Aether tilts his head to the side, staring at the bed with confusion. “Why would one person sleep on a bed that can fit around two to three people?”

“At least [Y/N]’s not sleeping on an heir mattress.” Cyno mumbles under his breath. Al Haitham’s eyes twitch at Cyno’s comment, his hands itching to smack Cyno upside of his head for referring back to the joke he made a while ago.

Heizou shrugs his shoulders. “I think it’ll fit [Y/N] and their plushies.” 

“Shhh! Don’t give them any ideas, or else they’ll do that and lure [Y/N] to stay with them instead of with us.” Venti whispers to Heizou.

Zhongli strokes his chin. “While the interior design is beautiful, it doesn’t seem to be the kind of bedroom [Y/N] would go for… then again, it is missing [Y/N]’s style and interests,” Zhongli murmurs.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Pantalone asks, looking at Zhongli curiously.

“This bedroom is cozy, but it feels more like a hotel than a bedroom that feels like home,” You said. “Don’t get me wrong! The bedroom is beautiful, and I love the interior design, but I want to feel at home when if I do spend the night here one day instead of feeling like I’m staying at a fancy hotel.” Your eyes scan your supposed bedroom, and you sit down on the massive bed.

“Hm. Noted, we’ll keep that in mind if we arrange some things around or add a few decorations to your bedroom.” Pierro says.

Dottore claps his hands. “Enough of the interior of our humble estate; let us give you a little tour of our botanical garden!” Dottore smiles widely.

Tighnari’s ears perk up, and his eyes shine almost as bright as the sun. “A botanical garden, you say?” 

Dottore smiles and nods his head, motioning for everyone to follow him out to the back of the Harbingers’ estate. It turns out that in the Harbingers’ backyard, there is a medium-sized botanical garden that contains various plant species throughout Teyvat. Tighnari immediately went straight to the plants that weren’t from Sumeru and began asking questions about the plants to the two men from those regions, Albedo and Zhongli. 

While the men are occupied with admiring the various plant species in the botanical garden, you walk up to Capitano and tap him on the shoulders, grabbing his attention. 

“Capitano, can you tell me where the bathroom is at? I, uh, need to use the toilet.” You clear your throat awkwardly.

“There’s a bathroom on the first floor. It’s in the hall to your left,” Capitano replies.

You give Capitano a grateful smile and quickly thank him before walking back into the Harbingers’ estate, searching for the bathroom. It took you a while to find the bathroom because of the unfamiliar layout of the Harbingers’ estate. After being able to find the bathroom and relieve yourself, and wash your hands, you walk out of the bathroom.

Right when you’re about to walk back out of the estate, a room at the very back of the mansion catches your eye. You stop in your tracks and stare at the door tucked away in the estate; it is almost barely noticeable. You slowly take a step towards the door, your curiosity getting the best of you.

You stop in front of the door and notice a bright blue-green light illuminating the cracks of the door. You raise your hand, hovering your hands above the door. You’re itching to take a peek to see what’s inside the mysterious room that Dottore, Pantalone, Pierro, and Capitano have skipped over when giving you and the men a tour of their estate. You shake your head and let your hand fall at your side. You turn around to walk back to the botanical garden, only to see Dottore standing there with his arms crossed behind his back.

“Good choice, kitten. Now, come here before you catch a glimpse of something you’re not supposed to see.” Dottore gestures for you to come closer with his index and middle finger.

You gulp and slowly approach Dottore, feeling like a child that has been caught red-handed in the cookie jar. Whatever is in that mysterious room, Dottore does not want you to go in there, and it’s a good thing that you held yourself back from peeking into that room. 

Dottore places his hand on your shoulders and guides you out to the botanical garden. Once you two arrive at the botanical garden, Dottore releases you from his grasp, and you stick yourself between Diluc and Al Haitham, holding onto both of their arms tightly. Diluc and Al Haitham look over at each other in confusion after noticing your strange silence.

“Are you okay?” Al Haitham asks, placing his hand on the small of your back.

You shake your head and squeeze their arms. “Can we go home?” You suddenly ask.

Thoma looks over at you in confusion. “You want to leave already?” Thoma asks, looking over at the others in bewilderment.

You nod your head. “I have things to study for, and I don’t want to fall behind in my classes.” You lie.

The men notice the strange change in your behavior; before you go to the bathroom, you are excited to catch a glimpse of everything in the Harbingers’ estate. Now that you have returned from the bathroom with Dottore leading you out, you seem a bit shaken up.

“Dottore didn’t do anything to you, did he?” Ayato demands.

You let out a shaky sigh. “No, Dottore didn’t do anything to me.” You squeeze Diluc and Al Haitham’s biceps once more. “Really, though. Can we please go home now?” You beg.

Xiao nods his head. “Let’s go home.”

You and the men slowly made your way out of the botanical garden. Whatever Dottore is hiding in that room, you don’t want to know what’s in it. It can be a laboratory like Albedo’s lab, but the way Dottore said that you made a good choice for not entering the mysterious room sends chills down your spine. Yeah, maybe you did make a good decision not to let your curiosity get the best of you, and maybe this will be the only time you will ever visit the Harbingers’ estate. 

Note: To be honest, I didn't know how I was going to type this story out, but I think it turned out pretty decent! I did have another ending to this story, but I changed it up because I have a small feeling that I'll have a few people complain about the reader's stupidity from snooping around, so I didn't type that part out and went with another ending instead. I'm just impressed that I was able to keep up with my posting schedule despite dealing with daily assignments from my university. Anyway, for those who are new or have been here the entire time, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for "Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader" and my overall taglist: @xxkatsusjinsux, @huboi, @crazyrichdaughter, @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff, @patata52, @honeybedo, @thedivinepriestress, @pencil-of-ashes, @samarill, @bakuhve, @yukima, @chaosinanutshell, @emperatris-rinaka, @neilify, @ksjjkthpjm, @jaisithebird, @mouchie, @emerald-smile, @jixlem, @the-blob-fish, @jiminscarmex, @bananazzzen, @thelost-in-time, @kryloxen, @ayolk, @tomansimp, @lordbugs, @c-camellias, @chihawari, @lilliansstuff, @zhongloml, @sweethcnvy, @wolf-chan2134, @simp4-fictional-men, @dai-tsukki-desu, @trash-queen-af, @tamayakii, @stellaris999, @hispasian-otaku, @stygianoir, @crispynutduck (if you have not been tagged, it's because you have your settings turned off for people to tag you in posts)

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[peaceloveandstarrs]

They Say It's Your Birthday

Here we are, my first foray into Beatles fic! It's a short little McStarr based on Ringo's birthday tweet to Paul. Platonic. I hope you all enjoy!

cross-posted at ao3

A big day was coming up. Well, it was a big day in Ringo's eyes. Tomorrow was Paul's birthday, a milestone one at that. His dear friend was turning 80. 80! It was hard to believe that both of them had reached such an age. Why, it seemed like just yesterday that they were in their 20s, playing sold-out gigs all over the world, staying out until the early hours of the morning and going into the studio on four or less hours of sleep, making films... what a life it had been. He didn't get a chance to speak to Paul that often since, one, Paul was in the UK and Ringo was in LA so the time zones were different and two, they were both very busy. But when they did get a chance to catch up, Ringo enjoyed every minute of it.

He sat on his balcony and thought. It was about four in the afternoon now, which meant... was it midnight in the UK yet? He thought it might be, but he wasn't certain. He unlocked his phone and pulled up the web browser, slowly typing 'what time is it in the uk' into the search bar. Sure enough, he was right. It was just past midnight. Which meant that he would perhaps be one of the first to wish Paul a happy birthday. How perfect would that be? And speaking of perfect, his message needed to be perfect too. He'd throw in a lyric from one of their old songs, the birthday one. He'd wear the jacket that Paul's daughter Stella had designed. And of course, he'd include love. Lots and lots of love. After all, Paul was like a brother to him, his life-long friend, and they'd been through so much together. Ups, downs, and everything in between.

Eager to compose his message, he went inside and into his bedroom, searching for the red and black jacket in his closet. He flipped through his wardrobe. Surely, he'd hung it up after the last time he wore it... “Where are you, you little bugger...” Ringo mumbled to himself. He finally found it and pulled it out of the closet with a grin. “Found ya!”

He slipped the jacket on over his t-shirt, popped the collar, and checked his reflection in his mirror. Good, good! He put his phone on his dresser, propping it up against the mirror and set the timer. He smiled at the camera, putting up his traditional peace sign. When the camera went off, he picked up his phone and looked at the picture.

“That'll do fine,” Ringo said, nodding. “Let's see...”

He squinted at his phone screen, opening up Twitter. Of course, there were loads of notifications, but he ignored them in favor of writing the birthday message. He tapped the small blue button and began to type, poking at each letter with his index finger as he squinted at the keyboard. He mumbled the words to himself. “They say it's your birthday Saturday happy birthday Paul love you man have a great day peace and love Ringo and Barbara love love peace and love.” He capped it off with a few emoji, the smiling face with sunglasses, a peace sign, a star, and two hearts, and then he attached the selfie he'd just taken.

He looked at what he'd written and nodded once to himself. It was perfect. He tapped the the submit button, and the tweet posted to his timeline. He grinned to himself. He couldn't wait for Paul to see what he'd written. On top of that, it gave him a sense of pride, knowing he was probably one of the first to send birthday wishes. It was just right. Ringo put his phone back into his pocket and went inside, awaiting his friend's reaction. He stopped in his tracks when he realized the one mistake he'd made.

Ringo wasn't sure that Paul come home from his tour yet, considering it had wrapped up just last night.

It might still be Friday to him. And... if Paul was on the east coast, then it was just a few hours later. Nowhere close to midnight. He sighed, supposing that it was the thought that counted. Paul would understand, hopefully. Or maybe he was home and he didn't have to think about it. Either way.

New Jersey, 7 PM

Paul was ready to head home. The short tour had been a massive success, and it had felt good to perform again after having to stop due to current events. He'd had a fantastic time, but home was calling his name. Plus, tomorrow was his birthday, the big 8-0, and what better way to celebrate than by coming home to his wife and family? 80. He can't believe he's going to be 80. He was grateful for all the experiences he'd had up to this point – the Beatles, Wings, the time he'd spent with Linda and their kids, getting to travel the world, and now making music as a solo act. Part of him wondered how much more he had in the creative tank as he prepared for the flight home. They'd stayed an extra night just to have a bit of a break between the last show and going home.

To distract himself from the thought, Paul picked up his phone and checked his Twitter. Right at the top, sent just a few seconds ago, was a birthday message from Ringo. He'd heard about the rest of Ringo's tour having to be rescheduled to September and felt for him. He knew how much Ringo had been looking forward to and enjoying being on tour. He read the message and chuckled to himself. In true Ringo fashion, it had no sense of punctuation, lots of 'peace and love' messages, and a small string, of emoji at the end. In fact, there were no fewer than five mentions of 'love' in the message. And he'd thrown in a reference to a Beatles song too, Birthday. It warmed Paul's heart, even if it was a day early. He thought for a moment. He missed working with Ringo; perhaps, if there was another album, they could collaborate again.

There was another thought, too. Had Ringo tried to send out the message at midnight, forgetting that Paul wasn't back in the UK yet? Maybe that was why it was a day early. Or maybe he was busy tomorrow and wanted to get it out ahead of time. Either way, it was sweet. Paul didn't do this often, but he decided to personally thank Ringo with a quick chat. He pulled up Ringo's number and hit the green phone button, putting the phone up to his ear and waiting for Ringo to answer.

Los Angeles

Ringo was pondering the idea of going out for a walk when his phone rang. He picked it up, grinning when he saw Paul's name on the screen. Huh. It was midnight, UK time, which meant...Paul wasn't home. He'd messed up. He still answered the phone with a fond smile on his face. He always loved these little chats with Paul.

“Hello, birthday boy,” Ringo laughed, sitting back down in the recliner.

“Hey, Rich,” Paul said, happiness evident in his voice. That made Ringo feel a bit better about his little mistake. “How're things?”

“Can't complain save for the tour being postponed,” Ringo said, leaning back and getting comfortable again.

“I saw that, I hate that for you, mate.”

“We tried our best to keep it going, but when someone else came down with it, we had no choice but to stop. I'm just glad we were able to reschedule the dates.”

“Me too, me too. How's Barbara?” Paul asked as he stretched out on his hotel bed.

“She's doing fine. Nancy?”

“Doing well, doing well. I think she's ready for me to get home, though. She worries about an old man like me traveling like I did.” Paul laughed softly. “I say as long as I've still got good health and stamina, why not?”

“I thought you were home already.”

“Nah. We took today to really see the city. We're leaving in the morning.”

Ringo laughed a bit. “I figured that out when you called me, didn't think you would if it was midnight where you're at. But anyway, spending your birthday on a plane, huh? God, can't believe you're turning 80. Can't believe I'm gonna be 82 next month, either.”

“I know. Seems like just yesterday that the Beatles were getting big, playing Shea and all that.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Did you ever think you'd still be doing this at this age? Recording and touring?”

“Yes and no. I always told meself I'd keep bangin' the drums till I couldn't anymore, but I didn't expect it to last this long. As long as I've got the energy, I'm gonna keep goin'.”

“My thoughts exactly. 80. Wow. And speaking of 80,” Paul said. What a perfect chance to bring up the post. “I saw the tweet you sent out.”

Ringo heard the happiness and warmth in Paul's voice. He could tell that the message had meant a lot to his friend. But still, he wanted to explain what he'd really wanted to do. His voice became suddenly quiet and shy.

“It didn't go how I wanted,” he said.

“What?”

Ringo laughed, a nervous sort of sound. “I'd wanted to send it out right at midnight, y'know, be one of the first people to wish you a happy birthday, but then I forgot that you might not be home yet right after I sent it. I hoped you would be, but, well...”

Paul grinned, the smile evident in his voice. “Very sweet of you, wanting to be the first. And technically speaking, you still were.”

“Just a day early.”

“No worries mate, it's the thought that counts.” He paused for a bit, and Ringo could hear voices in the background. “Listen, I hate to cut this short, but the band's wanting to take me out for a birthday dinner. We'll catch up proper when I get back to LA, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Now go have fun, eat some cake for me,” Ringo laughed. “Love ya.”

Paul took a second to process, and then he said it back. It was brotherly love, but still. After everything that he'd been through, all the loved ones he'd lost, he knew better than to let any kind of love go unexpressed.

“Love you too, Rings.”

[goodlucktai]

If you are up to it, maybe prompt 24 and 60 for the ASL bros? 60 really seems to go well with Ace's self confidence problems in particular.

(I'm a fan of Luffy and Sabo confronting ace in an au where he lives post marine Ford but I also enjoy suffering so it can be whenever)

HEARTBREAKING PROMPTS

24. “You almost died! And for what?” +60. "I really think it's easier for people when I'm not around."

let's put it in the smile again au

ao3 // ko-fi

x

“Asshole,” Sabo hissed through his teeth.

Ace paused mid-step, halfway across the yard. The porch-light was little more than a dim orange glow but it pushed just enough of the dark twilight away that Sabo could see the surprise sprint across his brother’s face.

His brother’s bruised face.

“What are you doing up?” Ace asked shortly.

It was two hours after Ace was supposed to come home, and he had the audacity to stand there and ask stupid questions.

Sabo pictured flinging himself off the porch and attacking Ace like a feral cat so clearly that he was a little surprised he hadn’t actually done it. Maybe some of that telegraphed through his expression because Ace hesitated to approach the rest of the way.

“Well, I promised Luffy I’d wait up for you,” Sabo said brightly, going straight for the kill. “Since you weren’t here to say goodnight like you promised.”

Tomorrow he’d probably feel bad for it, but tonight he watched with vicious satisfaction as the blow struck home. Ace walked around in bullet-proof armor every day and sometimes he forgot to take it off at the door but there were some things that pierced straight through that hard outer shell as easy as breathing. Two things, to be precise.

And sure enough, Ace’s face transformed from stubbornly defiant to a little bit lost. When Sabo stomped down the porch steps and grabbed him by a fistful of his sleeve, he let himself be dragged inside.

They had only been living in this little house for a month or so. Dadan got evicted from her last apartment for being behind on rent, and after an uncomfortable period of sleeping in parking lots and laundromats, Ace threatened to call his grandpa if she didn’t get her shit together. That threat always worked like magic, because Ace very rarely resorted to it. And so she disappeared for a little over twenty-four hours and returned with a set of housekeys, and now here they are.

The place belonged to a friend of hers, who didn’t mind Dadan staying there when she was out of money or trying to get clean. Dadan had lots of friends and lots of little halfway homes, but that support and welcome didn’t extend to the three boys she’d been reluctantly saddled with.

She wasn’t their mother. She didn’t want to be. She owed the Portgas brothers’ grandpa some huge, impossible favor, so she did her best to make sure they had food and shoes and a place to sleep, but that was the extent of it. Sabo and Ace liked her well enough, but they didn’t count on her. They couldn’t afford to.

And when Dadan went to meet up with some friends on a Saturday night and never came back, it was a little scary at first, but it’s not as though they were entirely on their own. The house had heating and running water and lights that worked. Grandpa Garp still sent money every other week, even if he didn’t realize Dadan was no longer the one receiving it. There were some old bicycles in the shed behind the house that they could ride the two miles into town when they needed groceries.

It was always worth pedaling up that last big hill, because Luffy would throw his arms up in the air and scream with joy when they rode down it again. Sometimes Sabo would take his feet off the pedals and let gravity bring him that last little bit of the way home. Sometimes, Ace would do it, too. It felt like being free.

“I didn’t mean to be late,” Ace muttered, sinking into his mismatched seat at the table. “Bluejam was being an asshole and wouldn’t let me leave.”

Bluejam was Dadan’s old landlord, and sometimes when he got drunk he seemed to think he could shake up her ten-year-old foster kid for the money she owed him in unpaid rent.

“Here’s an idea,” Sabo replied. “Stop going over there.”

“It’s not like I want to look at his ugly face. I just thought he might know where Dadan is, since the only two things he cares about in the entire world are money and people who owe him money.”

Sabo’s temper relented a little bit, because it didn’t have a choice.

Garp had mentioned that he was coming for a visit soon, and if he found out how the boys had been living, it would be an absolute shit-show. He would get loud and angry and throw stuff around and scare crybaby Luffy. He might even try to take his grandsons away from the lady he thought he was paying to take care of them, which would mean taking them away from Sabo, too.

They needed to find Dadan. They needed to protect their cobbled-together little life. But Ace was sitting there with a black eye and a split lip, glaring at the tabletop like it could be blamed for his imagined failures, and it made Sabo’s heart hurt.

“Forget Dadan,” he blurted.

It got his brother to look up at him, surprised. “What?”

“Forget her,” Sabo said. “Forget everybody. Let’s never go to the city again. We can go to the village when we need stuff instead, it’s not that much farther away.”

Ace’s brow was furrowed. He wasn’t getting it. “Sabo--”

“Bluejam’s just like my dad was. Every time he hurts you he goes a little bit farther. What if tonight he went too far? What if he killed you? You could have died, and for what?”

Someone else’s debt. Some lady who just left them here and went away. Adults and their grandiose problems, their way of thinking nothing mattered except themselves.

Sabo knew he sounded angry, but he couldn’t help it. He was angry. He was furious, at every single person who had ever left a bruise on his brother’s skin, at everyone who had ever yelled at Luffy until he cried, at all these grown-up figures in their lives who were supposed to show up for them and didn’t.

“Your grandpa doesn’t know where we are,” Sabo went on. “If he finds Dadan and shakes the address out of her, we’ll run away. We’ll push him down the hill and steal his car. And his wallet! Fuck him!”

Ace shook his head slowly, but not like he was disagreeing. More like he was warming up to the idea, and he was annoyed he didn’t think of it first.

Sabo reached across the table and left his hand waiting, palm-up. “We’ll do it together. We can do anything.”

His brother reached back, but didn’t take Sabo’s hand right away. He bit his lip, struggling with those dark things he always thought about himself but rarely said out loud, and then muttered, “I thought… I always sort of thought it would be easier for you guys if I wasn’t around. I’m not as good as you are. I just make trouble, and you always have to get me out of it.”

It took more self-control than Sabo knew he had not to snatch Ace’s wavering hand out of the air.

“Luffy makes more trouble than you could ever dream of,” he said. “And if you say it’d be easier if he wasn’t around, I’ll give you another black eye.”

Ace blinked, and then grinned, and he smacked his hand into Sabo’s hard enough it stung. Their fingers were white-knuckled where they were wrapped around each other, and the grip of it felt like a promise. Like the one they made when they were both seven years old, and realized neither of them had a family, and decided to stick together from then on.

So they’ll stick together. It’s what they’ve always done. They’ll raise Luffy the way they raised each other and he’ll never have to worry about the things they worry about, because he’ll always have someone watching over him.

Four days later, Sabo would return to the city one last time. They had a couple of hidden stashes left that he wanted to retrieve, and then he was going to stop at the corner-store so his little brother could make those colorful confetti cupcakes he saw on TV. He got a late start, because the three of them spent all afternoon painting the mailbox, but he was laughing when he finally pedaled off, waving a blue- and red- and yellow-stained hand behind him as he disappeared down the road under a dusky orange sky.

It was Ace’s turn to wait for him. It was Sabo’s turn not to come home.

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”

A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions

XXXXX

After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.

Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.

The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.

The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.

The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”

“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.

“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”

“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”

“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”

Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.

“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”

“And what’s your schedule for the month?”

“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”

Jamie just nodded. The next month.

It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.

“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.

Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”

Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.

“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.

“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”

“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.

“I told ye it’s daft.”

“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”

Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.

But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.

Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.

Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.

With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”

Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”

“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.

“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.  

As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.

-

So the four-week long distance trial began.

The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.

Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.

Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.

They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.

It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.

It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.

Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article

-

On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.

“Ah, lad”

“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”

“Today? Not yet. Why?”

She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.

She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.

“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.

“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.

“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”

Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.

“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.

“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”

“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”

“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.

“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”

“A bit but something we can talk about later.”

“Okay”

It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.

It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”

“Why didn’t you call -?”

“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”  

“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.

“Are we okay now?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.

[chierafied]

Intervention

For @jilychallenge, July 21. Theme: Idiots in Love

Partner: The lovely and amazing @the-dream-team! 💙💙 Please go read their fun fic!

Prompt: sirius locks lily and james in a cupboard (or another enclosed space of your choosing) in an attempt to play matchmaker. shenanigans ensue.

4,728 words. Also on AO3.

---

The door of the dormitory slams open and James Potter strides in. He crosses the room quickly, throws himself on his four-poster bed, letting out a groan as his face smashes into the pillow, glasses and all.

Sirius is lounging in his own bed, enjoying the treacle tart he pilfered from the kitchens just after classes ended. Chewing on his stolen treat, he silently studies his mate’s prone figure. He can all but feel the misery radiating off of James.

There are only two things that Sirius knows can send James into such an obvious show of despair: a defeat on the Quidditch field and Lily Evans.

As it’s a Monday and the next Gryffindor game is three weeks away, Sirius is left with one option.

For a while, he wonders if he should weigh in at all. For the sake of his own sanity, it might be better to just leave James to it. Maybe go down to the Common Room and find Peter for a game of Exploding Snap.

But then his conscience pricks him, reminding him that this heartsick idiot is also his best mate.

“What’s she done this time,” Sirius drawls.

“What?” James flops on his bed and stares at Sirius, his hazel eyes dull behind his glasses.

“What has Evans done to cause this cloud of doom?” Sirius asks again, waving his hand to compass James and his misery.

“You remember that she had a date with Andrew Buchanan last Hogsmeade weekend?”

Ahh, yes. That was right. James had been moping all weekend about that and wouldn’t even agree to sneak out to the Three Broomsticks on Friday night.

“I think you mentioned something about that, yeah,” Sirius answers, thinking back to the two-hour rant he’d been subjected to that Saturday afternoon when they’d come back from Hogsmeade.

“The date went really well, apparently. They’re officially going out now.”

Sirius swallows his knee-jerk response of so what with a grimace. “I’m sorry to hear that, mate.”

He’s not, really, of course. But he is sorry that James is reduced to this pathetic miserable lump because of Evans.

“He’s not good enough for her,” James declares sullenly. “Sadly, that’s up to Evans to decide,” Sirius replies, thinking Evans could do much worse than Buchanan. He’s an OK lad, for a Ravenclaw.

“I know.” James sighs. “It’s just… hard.”

Sirius weighs his options. And though he has approached this subject before – not always successfully, either – he can’t help to voice his honest opinion.

“Look, mate… Evans is great. But maybe the two of you are better off as friends, yeah? You’ve been mooning after her for years now and have only been making yourself miserable. I think it’s time to let go, Prongs. Time to move on.”

The silence in the room is so loud that Sirius has time to think up all manner of swear words, thinking he completely bollocksed it up again.

But to his surprise, when James does reply, his voice is quiet but assenting. “Yeah. I think you’re right, Sirius.”

Glowing with righteous victory, Sirius flashes James a smile. “Don’t worry, mate, I’m here for you.”

---

The party is raucous and in a full swing when Sirius, exhausted from all the dancing, plops down on an empty sofa in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. He takes a long swig from his bottle of Butterbeer – which might have been spiked with good strong mead courtesy of Hagrid, but no one’s the wiser which is how Sirius prefers to keep it.

Across the room, at the edge of the area designated as the dance floor, James is standing, his arm casually slung around Bethany Narang’s shoulders. He is giddy with his Quidditch victory, though that is probably not the only reason he’s let Bethany stick to his side all evening. 

Prongs is finally doing it. Moving on. Sirius couldn’t be prouder and salutes him with his bottle.

He’s taking another long pull of the delicious mix of alcohol when the sofa dips down. Lily Evans slumps beside him, tucking her feet under her as she curls into the corner of the sofa.

“Rare to see you out of the action,” she quips once she’s settled.

Sirius slants her a glance. “Needed to take a breather. You’re usually out there getting your dance on, too.”

“I did, for a while. But I’m tired now.”

She looks tired, too, resting her cheek against the armrest. 

“It’s ok to bow out early, Evans. No shame in that.”

“I know. I’m going in a bit.”

Silence settles over them. Sirius sips his drink. Lily rests. It’s peaceful in their little corner. Companionable.

And they have a good view of the rest of the room.

James bends his head to Bethany, whispers something in her ear. Bethany giggles, tilts her head.

Get it, Prongs, Sirius silently urges him, taking a sip of his mead-enhanced Butterbeer.

And he does.

“Funny,” Lily comments with a chuckle. “I never took Potter as the PDA sort.”

Her voice is light and airy, brimming with amusement. And as she watches Prongs snog Bethany in the full view of the entire Common Room, eliciting cheers and hoots and laughter and teasing from the crowd around them, Sirius watches her.

Lily’s lips are curved in a smile but something about it doesn’t seem quite right to Sirius. Her eyes, even in the dim room, seem duller and darker. Something lingers there, which Sirius recognises only too well.

“Neither did I,” he replies at last. “But it’s good to see him moving on, right?”

Lily’s smile twists. “Yeah. It’s great.”

Silence returns, but now it has an edge to it. Brittleness overlaying the earlier camaraderie.

Lily uncurls from her cosy position.

“Well, I guess I should go get some sleep. Good night, Sirius.”

“Night, Lily,” he wishes her, but she’s already walking away.

Sirius’ gaze trails her as she hurries through the crowd, giving a wide berth to James and Bethany, who’re still lost in one another.

Sirius scowls, uneasiness coiling in the pit of his stomach. He can’t quite shake that look in Lily’s eyes. What it might have meant. And whether he might after all be in the wrong.

---

It’s a sunny and warm April day and Sirius is in a great mood. There’s nothing better than being out with his lads and it’s a nice change to stroll the main street of Hogsmeade in bright daylight, no matter how much fun it is to sneak out in the evenings. They’ve just raided Honeydukes and left with their bags bulging. Remus and Peter have split off to go visit the book shop and the post office so Sirius is left alone with James to wander the village. A group of girls exits Madam Puddifoot’s down the street. Bethany Narang is among them and perks up at the sight of them, smiling and waving at James.

Sirius swallows a snort. Bethany has dropped more than one hint about the Hogsmeade weekend being a great opportunity for a date, but Prongs has brushed them off in good humour. 

Now, too, he waves back to Bethany and then turns to Sirius. “How about Zonko’s?”

“Sure.”

They enter the joke shop, Sirius trailing after James. “You know, you probably could still snag that date with Bethany if you wanted, she seems interested.”

“Nah,” James replies as he meanders through the shop. “She’s nice and all but I’m not really interested.” 

“Uhhuh,” Sirius says, wondering if his assessment of Prongs moving on was too hastily drawn. Still, he hasn’t really mentioned Evans once for the past week so that must be progress, right?

They browse through the shop but nothing really catches their eye.

“Should we go to the Three Broomsticks?”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “Remus and Peter will probably finish their errands soon, too.”

Back on the main street Sirius spots the dark red hair right away and grimaces. Lily Evans is walking ahead of them, hand in hand with Andrew Buchanan. They’re laughing together and Sirius slants a glance at James. 

His gaze is fixed on the couple, his jaw clenched as he watches them.

“Evans looks happy,” Sirius carefully comments.

“She does, yeah,” James replies. 

They walk a few more steps in silence.

“I’m glad. She deserves to be happy,” James continues.

They’re almost at the Three Broomsticks when James speaks up one last time. 

“I’m happy for her.”

Behind his back, Sirius rolls his eyes. The strain in Prongs’ voice belies his words. 

And later, as all four of them are together at a table, sharing drinks and laughs and enjoying themselves immensely, Sirius can’t help noticing that James’ gaze keeps darting to the corner table where Evans sits with her boyfriend.

Much as his mate is trying to move on, it seems to be easier said than done.

---

It’s Monday evening and Sirius is in a storage room in the dungeons, organising the items stored and refilling the jars and boxes and bottles littering the shelves.

Lily is in the adjoining Potion’s Classroom doing preparatory work for tomorrow’s lessons at Slughorn’s desk.

“I should get assigned detention with you more often, Evans,” Sirius quips, calling out to the next room. “This is the cushiest detention I’ve ever been in.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lily replies. “Professor Slughorn intervened with Professor McGonagall. I figure he felt bad that we got into trouble because of Slytherins.”

“I’ve got into plenty of fights before with Slytherins and Slughorn’s done nothing to cushion the detention. So where I’m standing it’s all because of you.”

“Well, it’s all because of me and my blood status that the Slytherins jumped at us in the first place,” Lily says, her voice wry. 

“I won’t let you hog all the credit for that,” Sirius counters. “I’m not very popular among their ilk either.”

“Not after that masterful Inpendiment Hex you aren’t. You’re a good partner to have in battle, Sirius.”

“Likewise. You’re quick on your feet and your wandwork is excellent.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to hear that. Especially after the scolding I got from Andrew.”

“Why would your boyfriend give you a hard time for getting jumped by a group of hex-happy Slytherins?” Sirius asks, baffled. He moves to the doorway of the storage room and leans against the doorframe to watch Evans.

“I think mostly he got angry because he was worried I might have got hurt,” she says. “He’s really sweet. But he does not approve of fighting.”

“You didn’t start it, though.”

“I know. I guess Andrew feels I shouldn’t have reacted with violence.”

Sirius snorts. Deep inside him, the bitter anger of experience simmers. “There’s no reasoning with bigots.” 

“I could’ve walked away, I suppose.”

Sirius shakes his head. “No. Someone could’ve walked away, yeah. But not you. It’s not how you’re built, Evans. How we’re built.”

Their eyes meet from across the room and Lily smiles.

“Thanks, Sirius. That makes me feel better.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sirius shrugs.

Lily turns back to the Potion prep.

“Sorry for unloading you like that. I was a bit upset since it was the closest to a row I’ve had so far with Andrew. He’s been really great, but I guess there will always be things we disagree on.”

“Yeah, that’s only natural,” Sirius says. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sure we will,” Lily agrees.

Or maybe they won’t. But Evans will manage either way, of that Sirius is sure.

And suddenly, he is taken back to the moment of miserable moping Prongs imparting him the news of how Lily had started dating. James’ sullen voice echoes in his head. ‘He’s not good enough for her.’

Now, a part of Sirius can’t help but agree.

---

Sirius lounges in a hammock in the Potter’s back garden, reading a book and enjoying the sunshine. It is quiet and peaceful and relaxing, which is all well and good… But inside, Sirius is starting to itch a little bit. Reaching that part of summer holidays when that giddy sense of freedom is starting to pass and there’s so much time and yet somehow very little to do.

Maybe he can talk James into going to visit Muggle London with him someday soon. They could go to the cinema, that would be grand.

And as if thinking of Prongs summons him, Sirius’ peaceful reading time is shattered when James strides into the garden.

He’s wearing a shit-eating grin and waving a letter in the air.

“Sirius! You’ll never guess what happened.”

“OK, then I won’t.”

“Just got a letter from Marlene, she says hi –”

“Tell her hi back then.”

“– and she says Evans broke up with Buchanan.”

“What shocking news,” Sirius replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It was only a matter of time, really.”

“What?”

“I had a feeling, back when Lily and I were stuck on detention together and she told about their fight. Different opinions and personalities.” Sirius shrugs.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why would I have? You told me just last week, and I quote, that you were ‘totally over Evans’.” 

Though for someone who’d voiced such a lofty claim, James is looking much too happy about Lily’s breakup, in Sirius’ opinion

“Well, I am! Obviously,” James insists. Sirius remains unconvinced. “But we’re still friends, right, Evans and I! So I still want to know how she’s doing.”

“You should practice holding your grin in check before you go and offer her your heartfelt consolations,” Sirius tells Prongs.

He shakes his head and stalks off.

Sirius gets back to his book.

Three weeks later, another letter arrives, this time causing much more mayhem. Sirius is skimming through the lines of his own letter when James bursts into his room. 

“Did you get yours, too, Prongs?” he asks, not even bothering to look up from the parchment as he’s busy taking in the book list.

“I got more than I bargained for,” James says, flopping down next to him on the bed.

Sirius frowns and turns to slant him a glance. “What do you mean.”

“Look at this.”

Sirius does. He stares at the gleaming object on James’ palm, trying to make sense of it because surely it can’t be what it looks like.

“Is that a Head Boy pin?” he asks.

“Yes,” James says.

“And it was enclosed with your letter?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure they haven’t made a mistake?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody hell, Prongs. Are you planning on going all respectable on me, now?”

“I guess I’ll have to be,” he says and tugs at his hair as he often does when nervous.

Sirius can’t blame him. Poor bloke, having so much responsibility shoved onto his shoulders. Still, better Prongs than him. At least Prongs will likely do a decent job of it. Although…

“Do you know who the Head Girl is?”

“Yeah, actually, they told me that in the letter too.” James’ fingers are making even more of a mess of his hair and he isn’t quite meeting Sirius’ eyes so he knows the answer already.

“It’s Lily, isn’t it,” he says, and when James nods, Sirius isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

---

Less than a month into the autumn term, Sirius is deep in the stacks in the Hogwarts library, actually trying to get homework done for once – and if he can look up some charms and hexes he can appropriate for pranking purposes, all the better. He can multitask. But his diligent work is rudely interrupted by Lily Evans. 

She sits at his table without an invitation and leans her elbows on the table. "You're a hard man to find."

“I’m not trying to be found, I’m trying to work,” he replies, trying to ignore her.

“Well, can that wait for a bit?”

Sirius’ head snaps up with that. Lily Evans, encouraging him to put off homework? Sure enough, there is something troubled lurking in her green eyes and she’s biting her lip.

“What do you need, Lily?” he asks, his tone gentler now.

“Just a moment or two of your time. And some… information.”

“Information on what?

Her cheeks look a little flushed now and there’s a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of Sirius’ stomach. Surely, she can’t…

“James used to fancy me, right? I mean he even asked me out that one time in the fifth year though I don’t think he was being serious… But I wasn’t just imagining it, right?”

“You weren’t imagining it, he was pretty into you,” Sirius replies, feeling much like a deer in headlights at this entire conversation.

“But he must have moved on by now, right? I mean he still can’t… Can he?”

Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering what dastardly deed he has done to earn this privileged position of being a soundboard for Prongs’ and Lily’s respective love lives – or lacks thereof.

He levels a stare at Lily and crosses his arms. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I broke up with Andrew during the summer break. After three weeks or so back home at my parents’ I just suddenly realised I didn’t miss him at all and that isn’t really a good sign so I figured… Anyway, I got my Hogwarts letter at last. I got my Head Girl pin. And I read that James Potter would be the Head Boy. And that’s when I realised I had feelings.”

That last word comes out as a hiss and Sirius raises his eyebrow.

“You have feelings for James,” he echoes, wondering at the universe’s perverse sense of humour.

“Yes. And I don’t know what to do about them. Or if I should do anything about them. I mean I don’t even know if there’s a chance that…”

“Look, Lily,” Sirius cuts in. He’s had enough. “I’m sure this all is a shock to you and I understand that you want a confirmation about certain things before you can decide what to do about it all but you’re going about this all wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t be talking to me. It’s James you need to seek out and have a chat with.”

Her shoulders hunch. She deflates in front of his eyes and gives a slow nod.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Lily gets up and slinks out.

And though Sirius doesn’t regret his words and knows he’s in the right, there are pricks of guilt plaguing him when he returns to his homework.

---

A month goes by. A whole month of stolen glances and longing stares, of too-loud laughter to one another’s jokes. Of flushed cheeks and biting lips, of mussed-up hair and awkward grins. Of gravitating towards each other’s company. Sitting together in class, heading off to Head Student meetings and Prefect meetings, sharing a sofa in the Common Room.

A whole month of small meaningless conversations, of yearning not given a voice, of a thousand important words going unspoken.

Lily Evans hasn’t talked to James.

And after a whole month of their nonsense, Sirius is fed up with both of them.

---

Sirius opens the supply closet and James strides in; starts to rummage through the shelves.

“What kind of a prank did you have in mind?” he asks, rifling through all the piles of assorted items stuffed into storage and then promptly forgotten about. “Replace the regular ink with vanishing ink? Put an Anti-Cheating Charm on all these spare rolls of parchment here? Oh, maybe we could hex the quills to –”

“Expelliarmus!”

James’ wand is yanked from his hand. It soars through the air to Sirius’ waiting palm.

James whips around to frown at his mate.

“What the hell, Sirius?”

“This is for your own good, Prongs,” Sirius says. Then he shuts the door and locks James into the closet.

---

Lily sets down the textbook and scowls at Sirius. “Missing? What do you mean James is missing?”

“I mean James isn’t here or in the dorm and no one knows where he’s gone. He could be locked in a supply closet for all that I know,” Sirius says, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “Anyway, I thought you might want to help me look for him since it isn’t a good look for the Head Boy to be wandering about after curfew.”

“Give me a second, I’m coming.”

Lily runs up the stairs to her dorm room and leaves her textbook there. As she’s heading out the door, she grabs a pouch off of a side table and stuffs it into her pocket. She rushes back down to the Common Room, where Sirius is tapping his foot.

“Let’s go,” she tells him and Sirius jumps to match her step as they climb out the portrait hole accompanied by the sleepy grumblings of the Fat Lady.

“Where could that idiot have got off to,” Lily wonders out loud, tucking her wand behind her ear.

“Let’s try this way first,” Sirius suggests.

Eventually, they stroll along the abandoned fourth-floor corridor, when a muffled sound around the corner catches their attention.

“Come on. You’ve had your laugh, you can let me out now.”

Lily turns to share a quick glance with Sirius. “That’s James.”

She sprints ahead, rounds the corner and zeroes in on the rattling handle of a supply closet just a few yards out.

Lily shakes her head in disbelief and then she’s running over to grab the handle.

“James? We’ll get you out, just give me a moment.”

“Lily? Oh, thank Merlin.”

Lily reaches for her wand – only to realise it’s no longer there, tucked behind her ear.

“What?” she stammers, turning around.

Sirius is holding her wand and pointing his own at her.

“Sorry, Lily, but needs must.”

“Sirius, you bloody bastard!” comes James’ muffled yell from the closet.

And then quicker than Lily’s brain can catch up with what’s going on, the closet door springs open and a well-aimed shove has her stumble against furious James.

They collide and stagger – and behind them, the closet door ominously bangs shut, followed by the definite click of the lock.

“Well, bugger,” James mutters in her ear and Lily can’t help but to agree.

---

James thought being locked in a supply closet was bad, but being locked in a supply closet with Lily Evans is infinitely worse. Her floral scent is teasing his nose and in the enclosed space he can feel the heat radiating from her body and it’s all very distracting. It’s hard to remember that he’s completely over his silly old crush. The darkness isn’t helping either. Evans is standing close, but he can only make out an outline of her, hand stuffed in her pocket. He can feel the weight of her stare on him, it’s making his neck tingle.

Rather than deal with any of that and those pesky fluttery emotions he’s most definitely not feeling, James turns and slams his fist at the door.

“Enough, Sirius! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“With me?” His incredulous voice comes through the door. “What the hell is wrong with you two idiots? I told you, Lily, all you had to do was to have one conversation but no!”

James glances at Lily. “What is he talking about?” he whispers, but Lily only shakes her head.

“So you two stay there and listen. Prongs, you’ve been pining after Evans for years now. It’s pathetic and we all know it and no matter how many times you tell me you’re over her, it’s painfully obvious you aren’t. Lily, you know I was right and you know you’re overdue a very honest conversation so just acknowledge your feelings and talk already for my sanity’s sake! Get it over with. I’ll be back for you in the morning.”

James’ ears seem to be ringing and he’s a little light-headed. The muffled sound of Sirius’ retreating footsteps is deafening in the thick silence shrouding them.

Flustered, James buries his fingers in his hair and slumps against the door. “I’m really sorry about this, Lily. He’s clearly lost his bloody mind.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Lily sighs. With a rustle of robes, she sits down on the stone floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. “He’s right, actually. And if either of us owes an apology for this mess, it’s me.”

James slides down to sit on the floor as well, his long legs stretched out. He frowns at her vague outline, wishing he could see her expression. Maybe that would help him understand.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something I need to tell you, James. I just haven’t been able to. I’m not sure when it actually started. Probably it’s been going on a while, I just haven’t been aware of it. But then, last summer there just came a moment when I realised what had happened.”

James’ heart is beating faster now, his breath caught in his throat. He thinks he knows what Lily is talking about, but it can’t be right. He doesn’t dare to hope.

Lily’s voice is soft in the darkness. “You’re funny and fit and brilliant and sweet and kind and clever and brave and bold. So it’s no wonder that I fancy you.”

Time stops and the world tilts. James’ mind can’t quite process the words but his heart is singing and pure emotion balloons in his chest. A victorious roar rushing through his veins. 

James’ brain is still stuck on trying to catch up with Lily’s confession so there is no conscious thinking involved. He reaches for her in the dark and pulls her close. Her fingers trail up his arm, her hand settles on his shoulder. Her hip brushes against his raised knee. His hand finds the small of her back.

Her breath is warm, that teasing floral scent intoxicating, the bare skin of her neck like silk under his fingers.

And then his lips crash against hers or maybe she leans in to press hers against his – it doesn’t really matter because it’s a kiss of James’ dreams. The one he has yearned for so very long and the reality is so far beyond anything he has imagined. He didn’t think such a perfect kiss was possible. And in that moment, and all the moments that will follow, he loves Lily Evans all the more.

---

Lily shifts her weight, trying to settle. She doesn’t want to move, leaning against James and resting her head on his shoulder is the happiest place she’s ever been.

But the stone floor is hard and cold and her bum is growing numb.

So she squeezes James’ hand and asks: “Do you want to wait until morning?”

“I mean I can’t complain about the company but I wouldn’t want to spend a whole night stuck in a supply closet. Not that we have much choice.”

“Well…” Lily drawls, slipping her hand out of his. “We do, actually.”

“What?”

Lily gets up and takes a few short steps to the door. From the pocket of her robe she pulls out a small pouch and reveals the lockpick she’s been carrying with her. 

And then she sets to work. She can feel James’ gaze bore to her back as she carefully jiggles at the tumblers in the lock. Once they each click to place, she straightens and swings the door open.

In the torchlight streaming in from the corridor, she meets James’ eyes. Their hazel depts are muddy with mixed emotion – awe, amusement, incredulity.

“Are you telling me you could have done that the whole time?”

“Yes.” Lily shrugs. “But then, Sirius went to a lot of trouble and he was right about us needing to have that long-overdue discussion.”

James’ grin is wide, his hazel eyes warm in a way that makes Lily’s stomach flop.

“Lily?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you again now.”

She smiles bright enough to light up the night and steps closer. His arms come around her just as she threads her fingers in his hair. As promised, his lips claim hers – slow, sweet and lingering.

It's the kind of kiss she can lose herself in, a kiss that makes the world fall away, a kiss that bends time so that five seconds feel like forever. It's the kind of a kiss that makes Lily fall in love with James Potter all over again.

---

End.