#[to everyone who i still owe replies to: thank you so much for your patience!! <3]

[coollyinterferes]

Lights a cigarette and stares into the distance

Donna Burke's Sins Of The Father starts playing in the background

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi! Ok so I don't know if I late to your Adele Song Tribute (if I am that's totally alright!) but if you still have space what about something for Tommy or Jonathan with the song Skyfall? Maybe something about reader standing by her man/comforting him when everything seems to be falling part? I think it's one of my favourite songs of hers and not just because I love the James Bond movie of the same name😂 you totally don't have to to though if you don't want too❤️❤️

Hey Addie! Don’t worry you’re never late 🤗 thank you so much for sending in this request! It’s the first one of the ones I got that I started worked with because I particularly LOVE that song and watching the performance to get inspiration is something I really enjoy! ♥️ so I hope you like this 🥰

The lyrics for the song are in italics. As I was debating whether what background story to choose from to develop this story, I had like a moment flashing before my eyes… I definitely enjoyed writing a dark Tommy story for “The way to a man’s heart” but the thought kept coming back to me, how about the opposite? How about someone who actually loves him and wants to help him and his family? So I turned everything upside down and came up with this.

Adele song: Skyfall

Skyfall

Tommy Shelby x reader (smut)

This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Silence.

That’s all that filled the halls.

For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen

Y/N took a deep and shaky breath to build some courage and walked towards the love of her life.

Tommy had been staring at the road the police cars took after arresting Polly, Arthur, John and Michael, but they were long gone.

She’d never forget the look in their faces as they were processing what was happening; everything was caos, the people she considered her chosen family yelling, cursing Tommy, trying to find a way out. She felt useless.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

Esme and Linda were looking at Tommy with such anger, that it made her heart ache for him. Jaws clenched, pointing fingers at him as they were escorted out of the house.

We will stand tall

Face it all together

Let the sky fall

Softly she touched his shoulder to let him know she was close.

“Tom.” She could hardly even her own voice. “Come.”

It took a huge strength from her to snap Tommy out of his trance.

“Frances can you please prepare me a tea for Mr. Shelby? Lavender or Valerian Root… double.”

“Right away Madame.” The maid nodded and rushed towards the kitchen.

“I need to be alone.” Tommy mumbled as he stood in front of the staircase.

“No.” She stated firmly. “I’m -” her voice broke down a bit, “I’m right here for you Tom.”

“Y/N please,” he replied in that warning tone he used when he was about to loose his patience, “I’m not a very good company at the moment.”

Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

She could see the pain in his eyes, and it was the hardest thing to endure.

Tommy had stepped up for his family since a very young age, he worked really hard for everyone, put everything single member of the family before him or his needs… it was time to make him a priority.

She couldn’t look another way and pretend he was alright.

Because he wasn’t, but he didn’t know how to ask for help either.

With all the love she held in her heart for this man she kneeled before him, Tommy didn’t lift his head as it was hanging close to his knees, he looked defeated.

“You got this, Tom, love,” gently but with a firm hand, Y/N lifted his chin to make him look at her, “this seems like a very dark time and that everything’s going the wrong way, but you always find a way to make it better, you always find a way out.”

“They hate me, Y/N as if they needed one more reason… there was nothing I could do to stop them from going to fucking jail.”

“I know darling.”

“All of this…” he extended his arms while looking around the room, “money, power, and for what? They’re in a fucking prison cell, the size of a shoebox. Someone else paid the judges and police more than I did.”

Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

“That’s where you’re wrong, my darling… you can use it to get your position back, if they got your family in prison and they want to play dirty? But you can play smarter than your enemies, I know you will get your family out of jail soon.”

That seemed to work on him, his features were softer, his shoulders weren’t so tense.

“What would I do without you? Ey?” His thumb outlined her cheek.

“Drive Frances crazy?” Y/N joked earning a small chuckle from Tommy that felt like the sweetest thing ever. “Now, I know it’s almost impossible, but have some rest, it will help you think better in the morning.”

“Will it work if I say no?” Tommy tried, knowing the answer before he even opened his mouth.

“Absolutely not.” She slapped his arm lightly before extending her arms towards him to ask for help to get up.

Getting rid of his suit jacket she placed it carefully on the chair, then Tommy let her unbutton his vest and shirt, but first she needed to get rid of the holster and gun.

His mind was going down in a spiral with worry, fears, the monsters inside his head, the tunnel closing up while he tried to reach the stairs to get out… but there right next to him was a woman who trusted him, who believed in him, who was trying to be the light in his darkness.

The only one he could trust to disarm him, both physically and emotionally.

Before he knew it, she tucked him in bed now only wearing his shorts, then she took a cigarette and the matches and lighted it for him, knowing so well he needed a smoke.

“I won’t take long, don’t go anywhere.” She requested right before pressing her full lips to his.

There was only one way to make that mind of him go numb.

He needed to think straight to choose his next move, but he wouldn’t be able to do so when he was in that altered state.

So she removed her skirt and blouse, applied some perfume and subtle lipstick and walked out of the bathroom wearing only her intimate pieces of clothing, a silky short in pale pink with a touch of black lace and matching bra.

As she slowly and tentatively walked towards the empty side of the bed, Tommy was under some kind of spell, his eyes devouring her body.

He was in the same position she left him; the sheets around his waist, bare chest and leaning against the headboard.

Still looking vulnerable after the horrible events of the day, but in his eyes she found a small flame starting to grow with each step she took. As it grew Tommy licked his lips in preparation of what was coming, he was aware of the power Y/N held over him once the bedroom door was closed.

His mind was already in blank as she straddled him, her fingers running up and down his chest. Tommy’s hands immediately circled her waist as he looked up with adoration in his eyes.

“Y/N what are you doing?” Tommy asked in a whisper, his body reacting as she rocked her hips slightly, tempting him, barely brushing against his member.

“Taking off my clothes.” Y/N replied in an innocent voice as if it wasn’t obvious.

Tommy groaned in pleasure as her upper body wasn’t covered anymore. He only dared to close his eyes a moment as she took off his glasses very carefully and placed it on his nightstand. He hissed as she took again her previous spot on him, leaning down to finally give him a proper and deep kiss.

As his mouth explored her neck and collarbone, his hands removed her underwear. A moment later, she was helping him out of his shorts. The atmosphere getting heated rapidly… it wasn’t long before Y/N was rocking her hips back and forth, teasing Tommy, just allowing the tip of his cock inside of her body, as Y/N moved an inch down only to move up again almost all the way out. He protested and tried to move her body down again, he needed her warm walls envelope him.

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

“Fuck… Y/N.” He moaned and to her it was the most beautiful sound.

But she wasn’t going to give in, just as Tommy tried to grind her against his hard member, she moved up again. The burning feeling between her legs only adding more pleasure.

“Not yet dear.” She enjoyed the half empty feeling of just having his tip inside and decided to change her pace and angle by making circles with her hips.

Tommy was weak when it came to her, there was no use in trying to deny it, but when it involved her naked, he would do anything she wanted him to.

“Please… I can’t hold it.” She noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead, how tense his jaw was, his beautiful blue eyes closed and felt the rhythm of his heart against her palm.

That’s when she finally in a fluid moment took all of him, his eyes snapped open and a low fuck escaped his lips as he could only focus on the fluttering feeling around him. Y/N controlled her movements to prolong her own pleasure. Throwing her head back she gave in the feeling of being connected so intimately to Tommy, hitting the sweet spot inside of her over and over and suddenly watching him with his mouth hanging open, the veins on his neck pulsing, groaning and trying to not come undone before her it was too much.

“Don’t hold back.” Y/N encouraged him as she guided one of his hands to her center, where she needed him, his skilled fingers set her on fire in mere seconds and they both reached the climax together.

***

By the end of the night, Tommy was exhausted, Y/N noticed when the rhythm of his breathing changed and he stopped clearing his sore throat after too many cigarettes. She didn’t dare to move to make sure from her current position; head resting on his chest, his arm around her waist. But at least she achieved her main goal… make him feel tired enough to get some sleep.

She knew he would deal with everything in the morning with a clear head, but for now she only wanted to enjoy the feeling of his lean body relaxed, his deep breaths helping her to relax as well.

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand

The following morning when Y/N opened her eyes, she noticed Tommy wasn’t in bed with her but she could hear him moving around the bathroom so picking his undershirt from the floor, she tiptoed towards him finding Tommy tucking his shirt inside his pants.

“Morning Mr. Shelby, slept well?”

“Like a baby, you wore me out.” There was a hint of a smile, before returning to his usual serious expression.

“I’m coming with you to the office.” Y/N announced, but before Tommy could protest, she added; “think you probably need some extra hands these days.”

Tommy swallowed watching her strip down to enter the shower. “Thank you.”

She’d choose to tease him for accepting help so easily, but given the circumstances she decided to pass on and hurry up, without his family around the work and papers would pile up.

“Can you take over Polly’s calendar?” Tommy asked as they rushed towards the door.

“Sure.”

“Ada will help us as well, I need to go out during lunch though, I asked Michael to do something but…” he trailed off and let the words hanging in the air.

As the car left Arrow House, Y/N squeezed his hand in an attempt to give Tommy some reassurance. On their way to the Shelby headquarters, Y/N helped him sign a couple of documents and a letter, as the ride went in silence, she knew he was already making a plan so she decided to give him time and space to do what he did best.

As soon as Tommy crossed the door Lizzie and other secretaries and employees were trying to figure out what would happen now, uncertainty decorating their features. Everyone following his instructions, not asking questions, they were just obeying his orders, he was back to being the boss once more, not showing an ounce of emotion, of course he wouldn’t show the vulnerable side Y/N saw the previous night.

Y/N marched to the kitchen in silence to prepare him some tea.

“This is a mess, how did you handled him last night?” Ada asked leaning against the table.

“As best as he let me.” Y/N sighed. “I think he’ll need something stronger, but Polly keeps the booze locked and I don’t know where her keys are.”

“I need to go through Arthur’s papers later, if I find something, I’ll give it to you.” Ada proposed in a low tone, still shocked.

“I’m planing to pay Polly a visit, she might need a change of clothes and other things, would you come with me?”

“The safe combination wont work, Y/N I need you to open it.” Tommy appeared out of breath, he looked like he had been moving furniture around and it was only past eight o’clock.

“Alright I’ll take that as my cue to go.” Ada left them with her own cup of tea, she had a long day ahead and knew when to stay away from her brother.

Pouring the two cups, Y/N gave Tommy his to try to keep him busy as he was looking over her shoulder, as if with that she would be able to open the safe faster.

“What’s so urgent?” She didn’t understand, Tommy had already paid for protection for his family while they were in jail. That was something.

But the combination she was using didn’t work either and Tommy was growing impatient.

“Hang on, Pol told me something about a picture.” Y/N clicked her fingers and started opening the back of a frame that was sitting on Polly’s desk, hidden behind a photo of Michael, there was a paper with the new combination.

“Why the hell did she choose to hide combination there?” Tommy complained, shaking his head.

“Because no one would think of opening a photo frame?” Y/N chuckled and left him to start organizing the things she would be helping around with.

First she started to make a list of the things that were needed at the office, then she got busy with the car spares of the upcoming shipments which kept her busy most of the morning.

The following weeks happened exactly like that, super busy days by keeping the books in order, registering the accountability made her feel exhausted by the end of the day and her feet were sore when she got involved in dispatching the Scotch whiskey. She could barely realize when it was lunch time and before she knew it, it was already nine o’clock and Tommy took some papers to keep working from home.

Rubbing his eyes, he locked the door to his office and walked through the empty property, all employees were gone home for the day, except for one; the most loyal one, the one who stepped in and didn’t ask what she needed to do, she got completely hands on immediately and didn’t stop until he was ready to go. Y/N had been developing incredible leadership skills, she made everything go right on time, she made sure meetings were efficient and all employees had clear instructions.

Tommy looked around for her since all he could find was silence,so it was a surprise to find her sitting on the floor inside the safe, somehow she also managed to make the count and organize the mess they had inside. After feeling on the edge for days, watching her skirt wrinkled, a lock of hair bothering her vision and making her blow some air in a lousy attempt to move it back made his day go a million times better.

She wasn’t a Shelby yet, - he should change that soon- but somehow she had managed to earn that last name by her endless support and all the hard work she was doing.

“You’re making me start thinking I should have everyone else fired and hire you full time, what the hell are you doing Y/N?” Tommy asked with his arms folded against his chest, the hint of a smile dancing in his lips. He couldn’t hide the amusement in his features.

Face it all together

At Skyfall

“Why do you have a King’s letter here?” Y/N raised her hand with a wrinkled paper, that caught Tommy’s attention right away.

“Where did you find it?” His eyes scanned the words at speed.

“After finishing the count, I started organizing the licenses and papers, this briefcase was at the back.” She explained showing him the other papers. “What’s the matter?”

Then, in a surprising motion, Tommy took her face between his hands and gave her a loud and effusive kiss on the lips.

“This is better than the fucking lottery!”

He announced storming out of the safe, Y/N rushed to close it before following his steps confused.

“You’re a fucking genius.”

“I’m not following.” She frowned while Tommy poured two glasses, this was the first time she saw him smile for weeks, his eyes finally showing life.

“I found that briefcase by accident some time ago, it involves the King in some shit ,” his eyes were shining like the stars outside, “this is my ticket to get my family out and all thanks to you.”

Tommy pulled her by the hips to make her sit on his lap.

“What are you waiting for then? Go on!” She encouraged him, but Tommy had other plans.

“If it wasn’t for you during this difficult time, I wouldn’t be able to do this, you know that right?” His hand came to caress her cheek while she took a moment to savor his sweet words. “This is far from the ideal proposal and I don’t even have a ring right now, but I need you to know that I want you by my side forever.”

“Oh Tommy!” Her eyes got teary, she was so tired and worried for him, thinking he would explode at any moment so this was totally unexpected.

And for the first time in days, they both felt like they did a good job by keeping the business afloat and finally the way to get the family free. After hugging tightly and another round of kisses, Y/N pulled back.

“First things first, we’re going to write a letter to get your family out of jail,” Y/N stated excitedly, “we should do a tea party and invite Mr. Churchill and other VIP guests.”

Tommy chuckled.

“And let me pick up Aunt Pol, she is still angry with you.”

“Fair enough.” He answered leaning back on his chair as Y/N was writing the letter.

After asking a blinder to deliver it personally, Y/N walked back into Tommy’s office finding him with his eyes closed and two fingers massaging his temples.

“Everything will be alright.” She hugged him from behind, taking in how worried he really was, but he had been disguising as strong and tough and intimidating all the time.

“I know,” when Tommy looked into her eyes, she found sadness. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Tommy… I knew you’d find a wait to get them out.”

“This shouldn’t be happening. Not to them.”

“Let’s focus on the future now, hmm?” Y/N kissed his cheek.

That was all he could think of now. And all of the things they’d do together.

He was so grateful for the way she managed everything, kept him grounded and focused, encouraged him to keep going, to not give up, she stood up for him when he needed it the most.

And there was nothing on earth good enough to show her how grateful he really was.

***

Adele songs challenge

Master List

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @zablife @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Seven

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Oh my goodness, an early update from me?? How crazy!  I never update early the world must be ending. I know it's only like a day, but still, it's a day early! For someone reason, it was super easy to write. I don't know what that says about me. xD I want to thank y'all sooooo much for constantly supporting me. When I first started this fic, I honestly thought nobody would read it and that those who did would hate bomb me. Everyone who has commented has been super nice to me, and I honestly can't thank you enough for it. I do want to warn you, though, that there's going to be a chapter in the distant future where were discuss Aegon's not-so-consensual activities. That's all I'm going to say about that. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a steamy one toward the end. ;)

Chapter Warnings: Flash Back, Somnophilia

Prince Daemon opened the door to Madam's brothel like a dark cloud, slowly traveling with the threat of a storm, Dark Sister tapping the frame. Rage was his presence as he entered, though his outward appearance seemed as if he was unbothered. He was on a mission, and he had only one question.

"Where is she?" He asked the first woman he saw, a client on her arm. She smiled at him sweetly.

"Give me one moment Ser, so I can escort this handsome patron out, and I will be right with you." She buttered the man up, her words a purr in his ear as she stroked his cheek.

Daemon rolled his eyes, taking three long strides to the girl and grabbing her by the arm. "You will listen to me and listen well. Forget this fool." She whimpered, letting go of the man's arm as she went to shield her face.

"I am Prince Daemon Targaryen, the man who created the very Gold Cloaks that will burn this establishment to the ground should I snap my fingers." She nodded, eyes teary and lips quivering. The girl was confused and caught unaware by the Prince's presence. He had not been here in quite some time, ever the loyal husband to Princess Rhaenyra. 

"Where is Madam?" He seethed through gritted teeth at her prolonged silence. The whore took a shaking breath, hesitating momentarily as she glanced at Dark Sister, deciding the truth would be better than Valyrian steel through her stomach. 

She leads Daemon to a back room, hidden and out of the way so no simple-minded customers could mistakenly enter. A small fire was lit, and a cast iron cauldron hung over it as Madam stood hunched, her shoulders shaking.

"Madam," the girl spoke softly, and she straightened her posture, wiping at her face as she turned to scold the worker, but stopped short, seeing a former star patron.

"Prince Daemon," she curtsied, sniffling to clear her nose, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" Madam knew she was playing a dangerous game.

"You know exactly why I am here," he replied firmly. Madam tilted her head at her worker, silently telling her working girl to leave.

"I am not sure I do. You know better than anyone that there is no need to come directly to me in order to schedule a session," she said dismissively. 

Of course, Madam knew precisely why he was here. It was the exact reason why she was crying.

"Do not play dumb, Babette. Where is Elaina?" He asked, losing patience.

"I already told you this many years ago when you first asked. My answer has not changed. She went back home to the North." Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes again as he stepped closer.

"I may have believed that lie once, but not anymore. She has no ties to her family." Madam sighed, shaking her head and raising her arms as if talking to a belligerent child.

"I am not sure what you want me to say, Your Grace. That was all the explanation she gave me before disappearing."

Daemon growled, charging at the poor woman and pushing her against the fireplace by her neck. Madam could not react, nearly falling into the simmering stew pot as she grappled for purchase.

"Stop protecting her, Babette; I have no intention to harm. I need answers," he spat.

"I have none to give," she relented, ever the strong woman from years prior. 

"Stop lying to me!" He yelled, shoving her into the hearth, her head smacking the stone. "Where is Elaina? Where is my child?"

Madam was a force to be reckoned with herself, but when put against the Rogue Prince, the man crowned King of the Step Stones, she had no choice but to yield. Her years of hardening were not meant to withstand the flames of a dragon.

"Elaina is dead, thanks to the babe you put in her belly, and that child-- my child," Daemon's grip loosened, a lump beginning to form in his throat, "that I have raised into a beautiful young woman has been taken by your eldest nephew for reasons unknown to me,"

Sadness replaced his rage, a dark, depressing feeling shadowing in the pit of his stomach. 

Yet another woman in his life has died from childbirth—his mother, sister-in-law, wife, and now a former mistress. Did the cycle of maternal loss ever end? The water wheel that was the Targaryen's customs was spun by endless blood and loss. Daemon's face was stone, though his heart was not. A twitch of his lip indicated he was upset by the news of Elaina's death.

Finally, he stepped away from Madam. Was he destined to lose every woman he had cared for on the birthing bed? What would become of Rhaenyra? She had just given birth to Joffrey not nearly two years ago, and she was already filled with the starts of another. She had been lucky, but the Gods' favor only lasted so long. What would become of you once put in that same spot?

"She is with Aegon, yes?" He questioned Babette, sniffing once as he rested his hand on Dark Sister. She nodded, cradling her wounded head, blood painting her fingers. "The Gods only know what that drunkard has done to her," Daemon said as he swiftly left the brothel, a new mission on his mind.

Lyra ducked into an alcove. Her grey cloak covered most of her recognizable face, the shadows of the secret entrance aiding her efforts. The layout of the many secret passages into the Red Keep was slowly becoming etched in her memory. She needed to know them like the back of her hand.

Her little apple, she thought somberly, her heart aching in the palms of gluttonous high-borns. Left to be eaten until there is nothing.

Madam had sheltered you too much from the reality of the world. You were too kind to bare the Targaryen name, too innocent to become a part of their "holier than thou" culture. You were not stupid, Lyra knew that, but your ignorance was simply due to a purposeful lack of knowledge on Madam's part. Unlike most girls your age, you knew about sex, the pleasures a man could receive, but you still had the inexperience as them, and without some trustworthy to guide you... there was no telling what path you might follow.

Lyra stopped at an almost invisible door, the wood untreated and dark within the shadows. She used her knuckles to knock a rhythm into the door, short and legato sounding. She waited, her anxiety boiling inside her stomach as she bounced on her feet. The passing time seemed too long. By now, someone would've opened the door.

"Lyra, you must leave. The castle is in a tizzy with the arrival of-"

Lyra didn't wait for the servant dressed in red to finish, shoving her way into the bustling kitchen of the Red Keep.

"Lyra, I cannot help you right now," Sara chased, tugging her friend's arm. "They are preparing a feast for the royal family!"

Lyra ignored her, running to another hidden servant's passage, her leather shoes tapping on the worn stone floors.

"Where is she," Lyra asked, sprinting up multiple steps. "I must see her. I need to tell her to wait." Sara tripped up the stairs, catching her skirt as Lyra gained more distance.

"If you would take a moment, Lyra, I could tell you," she huffed, catching up to her old friend at the top of the passage. "They are at dinner," Sara finally answered, her breathing ragged. "She met Daemon. I observed through the walls. He was kind to her. I believe there is no ill-will between them."

"That is a relief to hear; truly, it is Sara, but the things I have listened to since she left..." Lyra trailed off, "a girl of her age should not be partaking in such activities. She is far too young to comprehend the consequences fully."

"That is hypocritical, Lyra," Sara scolded, crossing her arms. "I remember us during girlhood. We were not much better."

"That was different," Lyra said. She dismissed any more attempts of scolding from Sara, opening the door as the sounds of music seeped through the crack.

She could see you dancing, hopping back and forth like a rabbit with Princess Halaena. Lyra could not help but smile. Seeing the joy on your face was infectious. It had become a rare sight over the past moons. Partly, because you had just gotten your cycle, your body readying itself to fill its biological purpose. A part of her almost felt guilty for trying to ruin your night with the plans of your escape.

Your laughter carried into Lyra's hiding place as you lifted the Princess. Lyra slowly shut the door, a wan smile covering her face. It might do you good to extend your stay at the Red Keep. You could live as a girl, make friends and play as you never could. It would give Madam a sense of ease to know you were well and to gather the needed supplies for your trip across the Narrow Sea.

Sara gave Lyra a confused look as she retraced her steps. She still needed to memorize them. You would be safe for now, and that was all that mattered as Lyra slinked back to Flea Bottom.

Daemon had escorted you to your room after dinner, silent the entire way. You were thankful for that; if he had sparked conversation, you could not have held back your grin.

Of course, you were still upset with Aegon for stealing you away and keeping his real reason for wanting you at the castle, but how he looked at you... He made you feel like you were the only person worth looking at in a room full of royalty... It made your heart feel full.

Perhaps you were too harsh in judging him? He is still a person growing into an adult, the same as you. You acted immaturely with Ma, and he acted stupidly with you. You would forgive him, just as Ma forgave you.

You thought of Daemon, wondering what was running through his head during that silence. You understood that people believed you were his daughter, but your mother was not alive to claim it as such.

Sara calmly unbraided your hair as Caldia fluffed your pillows, and one of the other girls you had come to find out was named Izola laid a thin buttoned nightgown on the bed. It was nice to be dotted on, feeling more important than you were as your eyes became heavy.

It reminded you of the nights you and Aunt Lyra would pamper each other. She would use extra wages on the day off to gather pastries, flowers, and sweets. You would sit and listen to her odd stories of patrons for that week about how one man wanted her to call him "brother" and cried after he came. You would laugh and laugh as you both stuffed your mouths full.

Suddenly, your chest hurt, your heart skipping a beat, fluttering rapidly to regain its set pace. You clenched your fist, placing it over your heaving breasts as you tried to steady your breathing. It felt like you had fallen from a great distance and landed on your back. Tears swelled in your eyes as your body panicked, unsure of how to respond as it betrayed itself.

"My Lady," Sara spoke with concern in her voice. She had stopped unbraiding your hair, her hands on your shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you alright?" She asked, turning to see your frightened expression.

The other girls came rushing over, like swans landing on a pond, as they all gathered around you with concerned looks.

"My Lady, what has upset you?" Izola questioned as she put the back of her hand to your temple.

"My..." You stuttered, clutching your beating chest. "My... Heart," you gasped, confused and scared about what was happening. "I want Auntie Lyra. I want Ma. Where is she?"

You couldn't think straight. Your mind attempted to grasp what was happening, reverting to a terrified child after a nightmare.

"Ma is not here. You are in the Red Keep," Sara attempted to soothe you, unsure whether she should reveal what she knew.

"I-I want to go home," your voice was thick with shedding tears.

"You..." Sara glanced around, unsure, her voice becoming soft and pointed, trying to convey a message with her tone. "You are home."

"No," you cried, yanking at the collar of your dress. "I want to go home! I want to be with my family!"

The gown no longer held beauty when you gazed upon it. All you saw were hands.

You were screaming, your eyes blinded by tears as you stumbled into the vanity, falling to the stone floor. Dozens of pale jeweled fingers become your skin, trying to penetrate your flesh. They consumed you, curling inside as you attempted to pry them away. You pulled and swatted at them, but nothing worked. A never-ending cycle would appear as soon as you broke free of one another.

"Get off," you shrieked, "get away from me!"

You couldn't think. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see. All you could do was feel their burrowing digits wiggling into you.

"Ma!" You screamed again, though you knew she wasn't coming. "Ma! Ma!" Your voice cracked, sounding thick with saliva.

You heard a loud crashing noise in the background, and you turned to look, but one of the hands gripped your face, forcing you to look back at them. You could see them gnawing like rats through your flesh and bone. Before you realized it, you were being lifted, the bejeweled fingers still all over your skin as someone shoved you into a chair.

Suddenly, they all vanished under a curtain of water, and you finally regained all your senses, looking at staring faces.

Caldia stood panting, a silver bucket in her grip. The other two maids were there, along with the Guard who was stationed outside your room. Sara and Izola were holding each other, their faces red and tears brimming their eyes. They must have seen them too... the hands.

"I came as swiftly as the Gods allowed," an older gentleman in pious brown robes said, bursting into your chambers with another man dressed similarly with a leather bag.

"Maester Mellos," Sara greeted in relief. She released Izola and thanked him with a squeeze. "I do not know what happened. One moment I was readying her for bed; the next..." She trailed off, looking at you with concern.

The Maester turned, seeing a girl who looked like she had run from one end of the Keep to the other, then averted his eyes swiftly.

"For God's sake. Give this girl some clothes."

You lowered your head. While in your fit, you had split the gown down to the waist; you only tore your small clothes a little higher. You covered yourself in shame, and embarrassment biting your ears. Caldia dropped the pale and grabbed your night dress from the beautifully patterned silk bed while Sara and Izola went to pull the tattered slit to keep your modesty.

Maester Mellows continued his examination, listening to your heart and touching your neck and underarms for anything abnormal. His companion took notes, a leather-bound book and feather quill in hand as the Maester whispered his findings. Your handmaids stood in the background, each with worried expressions.

One with a hand over their pursed lips, the middle looking between you and the stone floor, the other with arms crossed tightly around their chest, swaying slightly.

"She seems to be in good health," Maester Mellos declared. All three women sighed in relief, whispering thanks to the Seven. "Though her heart beats like a wild stallion, even when resting." As he continued, their faces dropped, fear rising to replace their short-lived relief. "I recommend deep breathing exercises to steady the pulse, but if something like this were to occur again..."

He motioned to his assistant, taking his bag and rummaging through it until he found what he was searching for. "Take a spoonful of this. Not a drop more."

He handed you an amber-colored glass bottle, a cork keeping it tightly sealed as you accepted it with trembling hands, letting him know you understood.

"Child, do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?" You lowered your gaze as your pride made your tongue feel like lead.

Maester Mellos sighed through his nose, kneeling to your height and placing a hand in your shaking ones.

"Tis alright, my girl. All women suffer hysteria from time to time. A punishment that all suffer in this time. Just do as I ask and all will be well." His tone was soft and kind, as a grandfather would speak to their grandchild, but the contents made you feel insulted.

He uncorked the bottle with a pop, getting a spoon from his bag as he poured the liquid into the bowl. You opened your mouth as he raised it, wrapping your dry lips around the cold silver. It was tan, almost the same color as molasses, and you began to feel skeptical of the powers this magic potion was implied to have.

You nearly spat it out from the taste. It was a bitter flavor worse than the absinthe Aegon gave you and burned your throat just the same. You didn't think to ask what it was, too focused on not spitting up as you forced yourself to swallow, taking a gulp of air with you and burping afterward.

"Rest now, child; the Seven smile down upon you. Thank the Maiden for this being your only ailment, and pray to the others for your continued health. You will be well in no time if you devote yourself to that." You nodded again, pushing yourself out of the chair wordlessly as you climbed into your bed, your handmaid hurrying to help you.

The Maester and his companion took their leave with a swift bow, the Guard escorting them out of your chambers and leaving the four of you alone. You had been nothing but a calm, albeit stubborn, guest in the Red Keep, and they were more concerned than anything. You could sense that they had questions, wanting to know where this sudden outburst came from.

The day had taken too much from you, and you had no more energy to speak as they pulled the silk sheets to your chest, tucking you in as Ma or Lyra would. You had begun to feel the effects of whatever Maester Mellos had given you as the girls left. Your limbs were heavy, and you felt your body and mind relax, sinking deeper and deeper onto a bed of clouds.

Aegon had drowned himself in his cups as always, but he did not desire to explore the Streets of Silk as he usually would at this hour. He sat on the stairwell leading down to your bed chamber hallway, waiting patiently until he saw everyone leave. Seeing the Maester as one of them did startle him a bit. What had happened in the time he was not with you?

He realized then that his little dragon could not be left unattended. He must be with you at all times lest something happen. It would be a difficult task for Aegon, yes, but he would do it. He would do it for you. You were his hatchling, after all. His and only his.

The eldest Prince waited a few more moments until he was sure your ladies would not return. He pulled himself up onto wobbly legs as he descended the stairs, dragging his fingers along the corridor until he felt a familiar little divot.

Aegon opened the wall into a hidden passageway connected to the many others that led out of the castle, but he didn't intend to leave tonight. Everything that he desired was right here in these very Redstone walls.

He traveled until he saw the familiar patch of stone that signified your room, making sure his drunk legs did not make a sound in case you had fallen asleep. Aegon pushed the wall slowly, careful not to have the stone scrape the ground as he peered through the crack.

Aside from lit candles on your bedside tables, there was no light in your chambers. He pushed the door partly open so that he could slink through, still as quiet as a mouse as he went to the lump on the side of the bed. He called out softly to not scare you, but as you did not move, he continued and sat on your mattress. Still, you did not stir. Your lips parted slightly as drool leaked onto your cheek. He leaned over, gently swiping away the spit, and finally, you roused, only moving from your side to your back, the covers below your chest.

Your nightgown had come unbuttoned, exposing the glistening valley between your breasts. It stopped short of fully revealing what he longed to see to Aegon, much to his disappointment. He traced his finger over your skin, sticky from the summer night's heat, and you, once again, did not move. He was mildly concerned you did not wake from his touch, but it did not stop him, his cock growing hard in his trousers.

He knew in his mind that if you had been awake, you would not let him touch you as he did, moving the fabric over to free one of your breasts. And the fact that you were not conscious right now, your body unable to reject or accept his advances, made him groan.

Aegon moved, swinging a leg over so you were in between his. Surely this would be when you would wake, kick, and scream at him until he left. But no, you laid beneath him like a log, and he grinned. Indeed this was a sign from the Gods you wanted him. In sleep, your body did not see him as a threat, which meant you truly desired him; your conscious mind did not know it yet.

His needy cock became too much, and he freed it from the confines of his pants. The head was a ruddy pink from his rushing blood, his thick shaft pulsing in time with the hammering of his heart.

He removed your other breast from your nightgown, the nipples taught and ready for him to pinch. One hand found the base of his member, the other groping and massaging the sensitive flesh. It only made him go faster, his hand pumping in shorter and quicker strokes. To his luck, you were still sound asleep, with no expression as to whether you felt him.

Aegon wanted to shove his needy cock down your throat and continue what you had started from a moment that now felt ages ago. When you asked him, drunk on the little death he had just given you, to teach you how to pleasure him. Perhaps your subconscious could learn instead.

"I like it sloppy," he said in a strained voice, spitting on his prick as he mimicked the squeeze of your womanhood with his fist, "but for you, little one, we will go slow. I'll have you dripping first, your little cunt begging to be stuffed by me. You will do better that way," Aegon grunted at the thought as he continued. "Then, I'll have you spit on me and use your tongue to spread it before I sink into your mouth. Do not worry. I shan't shove it in all at once. I'll ease it in. I'll guide your head to find the pace I like, and you'll use your hand to make up for the lost space."

He felt a jolt of pleasure, picturing the scenario in his mind, your big doe eyes staring up at him, looking for reassurance.

"Of course, you will be unsure if you are doing it right, but not to worry, I will tell you." The stroking of his cock went faster, making the pace that you would set for him. "Good girl, I would say. You're taking me so well. I know you would just clench at my praise and try to take more of me. I know what you are, even if you do not. A good little girl that would take whatever I gave her with a smile; you just don't realize it yet." Aegon could feel his high mounting quickly, grunts and moans spewing from his chest as he moved his free hand to squeeze your throat.

"You will do that for me, won't you, little one? You'll take my cock down your fucking throat and thank your Prince when you are done?"

Your eyelids fluttered open at the lack of air, sleep still clouding your vision and mind. You could only make out a face—shoulder-length hair of white, pouting pink lips wet with spit, and flushed cheeks.

"Aegon," you whispered groggily, suddenly pulled back under the sleep waves.

He came quickly and suddenly at the sound of his name from your lips. It was such a force that his seed shot to your chin.

"Yes, it is me, little one. I am here," he answered as more spurts of his manhood fell onto your bare chest. "I am here." You did not hear his words. Already back in a deep slumber as you squirmed slightly, wiping his labor off your chin.

Aegon cursed the Gods for such an insurmountable and sudden pleasure, stroking his cock slowly as he came down, almost collapsing on top of you. He wanted to watch you clean yourself, forcing you to wipe his spend off your body with your fingers, sucking it off before swiping for more, but alas, his little dragon was sleeping and knew better than to wake you. He needed now, more than ever, for you to be awake.

Aegon tucked himself back into his trousers and left the bed, searching for a rag to wipe you but could find none, only seeing your peasant clothes draped over a chair. The maids must've forgotten them, and he grabbed the dirty outfit stained with sweat and alcohol to clean his sin of your flesh. He looked out the window once he was done, throwing the clothes in a random spot for later.

At this point in the night, he realized where his highs would cease, and his thoughts would finally reign free. His chest felt empty, a horrid feeling of shame and guilt gnawing at his gut. No one would ever love him, he realized, not in the way he sought for. His mother was ashamed and disgusted at the mere thought of him. His brother filled all the criteria his Mother wanted him to, and his youngest sister, his... wife, stuck in a marriage she nor he wanted, forced to carry his heirs. His father often forgot he even existed in favor of Rhaenyra and her bastard children.

How would he ruin your life, Aegon wondered. It was inevitable. You, too, would surely follow the same pattern. You would hate him, be repulsed by his heinous actions, and become like everyone else. He heard you stir in bed behind him but did not care; you were still fast asleep. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, sniffing and willing himself not to let them shed as he crossed his arms for comfort.

"Aegon," he heard a soft voice behind him call. "What are you doing here?" He quickly wiped the tears from his face, rushing over to kneel on the opposite side of your bed.

You saw the wet streaks, his eyes bloodshot. "Are your alright?" You asked, sitting up as you grew more concerned.

"Yes, yes, little one. I am pretty alright. I was just stopping by to see how you faired after tonights events," he lied. You didn't believe him. Your mind slows as you think of what to say.

Though you were still angry at him for what he had done, you felt your heart soften at his broken face as you opened the covers on the other side of you. "Would you lay with me," you quietly spoke, doubling down as you saw his surprised expression. "Just for a little while until I fall back to sleep." Aegon did not hesitate to kick off his boots, shedding his wine-stained shirt as he climbed in. He, too, was desperate for companionship, as he always was.

You knew this was considered improper in royal customs, and you would most defiantly get into trouble if Daemon found out, but you didn't care. You could tell you, and Aegon needed some, if just for the night.

Aegon climbed into bed wordlessly. From the moment you met him, he was always the one to lead, and you were blank on how to proceed. He was afraid to say the wrong thing and have you refute your offer. You both lay there awkwardly, staring a the black ceiling in silence. You were still trying to figure out what to do.

You recalled childhood moments when you would crawl into Aunt Lyra's bed after Ma had scored you. It was almost second nature for her. She always knew how to help you and make you feel better.

You scooted closer to Aegon's stiff form, wrapping your arms around him as he turned. You did not speak. There was nothing to say as you squeezed him closer to you. Each other's presence was enough as you slowly drifted back to sleep. Eventually, his arms wrapped around yours as something akin to water slid down your skin.

Master List of Series

Aegon is a mentally ill and emotionally stunted individual who does terrible things. Instead of mommy issues, he has "everyone in his family issues." I just wanna stroke that baby prince's cock and tell him what a good boy he is as he makes a mess of himself with his cum.

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Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess

[toomoonfic]

AO3 Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @dimplesandfierceeyes! I really enjoyed this trip down memory lane.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

So across my main account (jjjat3am, toomoon, boneflower, yvenger) + my hockey account (savedby), I've somehow managed 283 works.

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

901 767 words. Getting closer to that million, huh.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ah, tricky question. Right now I'm writing mostly in the Thai BL fandom, if I can label it that way. According to my dashboards, I've written across 59 different fandoms.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. you're not a ghost (I'm not afraid of you) - KinnPorsche, Arm/Tankhun 2. safe (right here in your arms) - KinnPorsche, Arm/Tankhun 3. devil is in the details - KinnPorsche, VegasPete 4. how does a penguin build his house? - Hockey RPF, Crosby/Malkin 5. this life (all I know) - Black Panther, M'Baku/Killmonger

Is it weird that I didn't realize that my KinnPorsche fics had gotten so much traction? But I guess it just proves what a huge fandom that was that a rare pairing got over 2k kudos in the case of ghost.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! I feel like communication with your reader is integral to building your community, and that's why I'm grateful to everyone that reaches out to me. I've noticed that I don't do it as much when my mental health takes a nosedive, which is why I still owe people replies from last year. I'm still doing it, but I hope it's not weird that people are getting replies like a year later.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm fairly allergic to angsty endings, so it took me a while of searching to get something that might fit this criteria. I'll go with some things never change, which is an Almost Human fanfic, so that's a definite throwback. It features robot death and I remember I exorcised some demons with it for sure.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much everything else? Just looking at some of the last things I've posted, holding on to patience (like a sunrise) my DBD fic was pretty much a typical Julija happy ending. In general that story is a very typical Julija fic start to finish.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not anymore, thank fuck. I did have a stalker back when I started posting hockey fic, that's why I made a whole other account, but that seems to have died down.

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

I've written 12 explicit fics in total, which is just funny when you think about it. The conditions have to really be perfect for me to be able to produce, and when I do, weirdly, it's mostly like, awkward handjobs I guess. I haven't mastered the art of the smut fic yet and likely never will.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Don't do this to me. There's only one fic I've posted that I'm genuinely embarrassed to speak about and this is it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It's always a joy.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! Take a Chance on Me was written with @zevons and it's so close to my heart. I've done a bunch of collabs and I love them all, not just for the story but just for the connection with another author.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This is also a difficult question for someone as disloyal as me...

I think ToddBlack has such a hold on me to this day, and it's still not totally let me go, so I'll go with that, their dynamic is so compelling to me.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

on the bridge between water and clay is never getting another chapter unless I decide that I'm really into Naruto again, which, okay, stranger things have happened I suppose.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm just the funniest person who's ever picked up a pen, personally. Strangely some people don't agree?? Weird.

I don't know, I never have a witty answer to this particular question, so funny is what I default to, because the funny moments in my fics are the ones that always stay most memorable to me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, descriptions for sure. Things like setting and what people are wearing, and the little details that really transport you to the place in a story. I don't really notice details like that in every day life so there's nothing I can base this on to improve myself.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't have many thoughts, I try to generally avoid it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I think it must have been Lord of the Rings.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I posted hung from ladders last year and I'd have to say it's my favorite thing that I've written in a very long time. It's a horror fic I suppose, but at its core it's a story about grief and how you deal with it, and I think in so many ways I was more honest in it than I anticipated I would be. I love it for what it represented for me in that moment but I also love that while not that many people read it, I think that it really impacted the people that did and through that I really felt that sense of community that I hadn't really felt in a long time.

I don't really connect with that many people on this website, so I'm not up to date on who writes and who doesn't, but I'm tagging a few people anyway, hopefully this isn't one you've done before:

@tungtung-thanawat, @mightymightygnomepriest @grasspetty @returning-spring

[ed-blight]

Hey y'all! I'm still kicking around. I know I've been sporadic with replies and starters and such and I'm so sorry. I've been sorta in a rut when it comes to my mental capacity so I've been a little in and out.

I have everyone who I owe starters written down and I have a plan for my replies! Thank you so so much for your patience and I can't wait to get back to it soon!

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Have some more bits from The Magi. Or, Ficino rambles for five pages in a letter and Cavalcanti is trying to keep him from dying.

~~~

Marsilio Ficino to his most unique friend Giovanni Cavalcanti: Greetings

Father died in March and I cannot help but I feel I owe him a book. I have dedicated many to you, my dearest Vannino, my Hero (I thank God daily that in his wisdom he made us for one another). Others I have dedicated to Lorenzo the younger, out of love for him, naturally, but also out of the love I bore and bear for his grandfather. Others and others, I’ll not list everyone. Kings! Popes! Wisest of friends!

Get to the point, Marsilio, I hear you say.

In my mind’s eye you are in our secret oak grove. The one with the tree that has twisted itself into a knot which we’ve named Diana after the great huntress. Sometimes, I call the tree Venus, for what I assume must be obvious reasons. But! my Vannino is in his pretty blue set—the one with the silver buttons on the doublet which has collar and cuffs pricked out with leaves of gold. Your Court Suit, as you call it. You’re looking remarkably handsome and seated on a heavy brocade blanket reading Ovid. Maybe Virgil. You have both with you—there, I’ve resolved it.

Above you a spotless sky, the sun shining brighter than Orpheus’ genius or Plato’s light. (Tell neither I said so.) Your hair has gone that pretty autumnal auburn it becomes when you are much on horseback or walking the hills with your Marsilio. At your hand a cup of wine. Something leathery and dark that Dante would have had. Maybe it is a varietal he might have shared with your ancestor Guido.

You are thus, in my mind, and I am telling you all this and you say: Marsilio, Marsilio, you’ve come away again from your point.

What is my point?

Nothing so grand as to warrant this letter but as you are in Florence and I am in Celle, where I have been since April, I must write it all down. I’m driving my father’s hounds mad, I make them come with me when I walk the hills and I’ve been doing a good amount of walking.

I suppose, the hounds are mine, since my father left me the majority of his estate, large, hairy Bruno and Orpho included. My brothers have written me about the issue of the houses and how they feel a little done-over by our father. It will come to more legal trouble. Arcangelo is so swift to jump into the lap of a lawyer he hardly waits for me to reply to say: very well, take this place or that. I wish to keep our father’s property at Celle. My place near Careggi, thankfully, was made over formally to me many years back. Arcangelo and Danielo can argue and feud over the place in the city and that one that is down in Gaville. My father’s ill thought-out olive venture which ate into half the estate. I’m still clearing the ledger of his life, so to speak. My mother frets. She came in only an hour ago to say to me, ‘Marsilio, if Angelo is to have the house in Florence I could not abide to live there for I cannot be under the same roof as his wife Julia.’

‘You are free to stay here or at Careggi. Wherever you would most be comfortable,’ I replied.

‘But I would be most comfortable in the city.’

‘No matter, I will let a house there.’

‘Your father left you our home.’

‘Father didn’t want to bother to properly divvy up his property fairly so left it all to me as the easiest thing to do, therefore it is fair that I divide it amongst my brothers.’

Alright, I didn’t say out loud that last line. I simply said that I sympathise with my brothers—how must it look to them? The one son who has no wife, children, nor dependents gets everything. It would grate the most patient and kind-hearted of men.

Marsilio Ficino, you cry, Get to the point! I’ve no time for your dithering.

(I know my actual Vannino would not be so harsh. He would be kind. But, I know you have some frustrations with my foibles, thankfully patience for them as well.)

My point.

Plague is here. We are all miserably aware of this. I mean to write a treatise on how to protect oneself from it and how to take care should one become so afflicted. I will dedicate it to my father Diotifeci and hope that he finds pleasure in it and looks on it, with his spirit’s eye, fondly.

Perhaps it is for the best that he died when he did. He would have died of worry, otherwise, because of the fall out from the cruel, pointless foolishness of those who I hoped would, at the last gasp, see sense. Perhaps that was foolish of me.

This leads me to my second point: If you think it wise, please send my love to Lorenzo. Tell him his brother is in my prayers every day. Also, that Giuliano’s untimely death should not be carried as a loadstone in his chest. I know what it is to lose someone senselessly and without warning. Lorenzo should look to the future of our beloved Republic and act in her best interest—that is the best and finest way to honour Giuliano’s memory. (Add that it would also spite the Medici opponents and rivals, if you think it would be received as a gentle jest from Lorenzo.)

Live justly, openly, honestly, and with Christian forgiveness.

However, if you think it unwise to pass on my love to him, say nothing. Or, at least, say very little on my behalf.

Between you and I, Lorenzo is killing us all because of love. Senseless! Senseless!

La—now, I’ve gone and written something you must burn. Just as well I end here, my mother has come to say that there is a man here asking to see me. That he wishes to discuss both my father and Hermes. Most strange. But, I must away.

My love for you never diminishes, you are my soul’s other half and I yours. Write me when you are able. Give my love to Poliziano and Landino, should you see them. And your brother Lenzo, of course.

Come to me in Celle, my Vannino. I miss you more than a starving man misses bread.

San Leo a Celle, October 1478

Addendum: The man was not a friend of my father’s, as I had presumed. He wished to discuss Hermes and Picatrix. I may need to return to Florence, briefly, to collect my copy as I do not have him with me here and I wish to check a few points.

~~~~~~~~~

Giovanni Cavalcanti to his Marsilio Ficino: Greetings

Marsilio, if you come within ten miles of Florence I will have heart failure. You will, by that act alone, be the death of your Vannino and neither of us wish for that. Tell me where you’ve hidden your little, illicit magic book and I will send it to you. Or, perhaps, bring it to you myself should my business here wrap up swiftly.

On no account, Marsilio Ficino, are you to come here.

My brother saw Lorenzo just last evening and Lorenzo said to him: How is our little Platonist?

Well, I’ve heard. Handling his father’s estate out near Figline.

I suppose I will have to resolve that issue.

When I saw him three days back he asked: Tell me again how it was that our Marsilio should be out of the city when the Pazzi so heinously murdered my brother? Know you an answer to that riddle, Giovanni?

I just smiled. Which is always my answer when Lorenzo stares at me and asks me difficult questions.

God help me, Marsilio, the things I will do for you.

Florence, October 1478

NB: I found your Picatrix stashed in a secret place with little intimacies I’ve sent you. You fly close to the sun, my Icarus. Please remember the lesson we are to take away from that!

[ravenwitch45]

Talking About 2022 On Tumblr

Okay so the general, post your year in review isn't working for me so we're gonna do this my way with screen shots I guess. Let's start!

Wow, that's more then I thought, okay then. Also @susie-dreemurr @novelist-becca @autismdino @ladylepidoptera and @sillyguyhotline thank you filling my feed and reblog list with worthwhile posts, at least I feel that. Thanks guys.

I answered over 400 asks!? I did not expect that at all but okay. Pretty sure a good bit is from @hazbinhotel97 so thank you I suppose. Thank you for asking all those stuff as well as all the others who asked me stuff. BTW to the Anon who requested that fic, which is the last ask in my inbox I have all the dialog written out just need the flavor text now so it will be coming soon. Thank you for your patience.

Also surprised Helluva boss has over double the posts tagged then Owl House, thought I was pretty balanced but apparently not. Heheh don't worry I might make a few freaks outs in january.

Frankly not even sure how gifts work so okay then?

Ah so the grand finale. I have pretty good idea of the first and second here but we'll see. Let's see what posts of mine a ton of people liked apparently.

Apoligies for the awkward shot but hey, the bottom of the top having nearly 500 is pretty good I think, and to think it was partially based off of a spongebob meme XD and the other is just me showing paralells of some of my favorite ships. Of course it is.

Another ship comparison with 800!? Wow and the other had 1500? Wow, being in in active fandoms I'm guessing. Either way I'm glad so many liked it. And last but certainly not least...

Knew it. Raeda really got a boost from Them's the Breaks Kid huh? It's honestly weird not to see the found family post here. It's from last year but it was my first big post and I remember it so grandly it's weird not seeing. Idk just a feeling.

Okay so that's it. But let me dedicate this section to the most important part of the blog. You. My followers which there is now 148 of you!? Wow that is... surprising. Though some may be bots but still. Thank you all so much for following my posts, and liking all my silly stuff.

And Specifically I want to to give some specific thanks to a few. @leakypipes for being with me through "The Great PFP Scandal of 2022" as I'm calling it, if you know you know, and doing their own thing which is inspiring. You go buddy.

And to @slycooperfanclub I owe you to come on the discord server again soon. Hopefully soon. Sorry for the absence my friend.

@bisexual-governmentspy as I'm fairly sure one of my first followers. So thank you for sticking with me for so long.

@hazbinhotel97 again for all those asks. Thank you.

@whatteam-blackgrlz for some really interesting asks that were fun to do as well as well as a good chat time to time.

@rodeoblitz who I just... I have had an absolute blast being your friend bud. Lucky to have you, truly I mean that.<3

Again. Last but certainly not least @aieismaschine my lovely boyfriend who swept me off my feet in the last quarter of the year. Always enjoy talking to you love. Love you dear<3

And to everyone else. Just thank you. Tumblr has been a generally great time despite all the drama, creepy pikachu men and weird as hell ads. And it was a good time because of all of you, not just my followers but everyone who liked, reblogged or replied with positively. Or just saw something from me and took a time moment to think, to smile or laugh. I'm happy I can do that. And I'm certainly sticking around. Love you all.

Can't wait to see all that 2023 brings <3

[fan-fantasies]

Stolen Goods

A/N: dedicated to breezy for being my best friend and putting up with my bullshit since we were 5 years old ❤️ I’m absolutely in love with this piece and I hope you guys love it to! Part two is already written so just let me know when you guys want it 😏

Pairing: Eddie x reader

Warnings: 80s version of nudes, fingering, swearing, tension out the ass

Summary: You take a liking to your friend’s weird friend. Even more so you take a liking to teasing him.

Part two

“Please come! All you have to do is sit there!” Your best friend pleaded with you.

“I highly doubt that,” you scoffed.

(y/n), pleaseeeeee. I’ll owe you big time,” Bri said.

“Ugh, fine. But you do owe me!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She screamed as she pulled you into a hug.

You had just agreed to sit in as a sub at her DnD club meeting or campaign, whatever she called it.

You would consider yourself a nerd, just not the type to play that game. You could often be found in the library studying or in a comic book store, which is initially how you became friends with Bri.

She had tried to convert you into her satanic club, just kidding of course, but the game confused you and you had no patience to learn.

She really enjoyed being in the Hellfire Club and you were glad it made her happy. She talked so highly of the guys in it and even said you’d probably take a liking to the leader, Eddie. You’d seen him around school, and heard him of course, but you never understood why she thought you’d like him. You didn’t have a problem with him like everyone else seemed to but you also didn’t understand why he thought so highly of himself either. Maybe that was it- his “better than the bullshit” attitude.

You didn’t think anyone was better than anyone else or above the bullshit. It was high school- it was all bullshit.

The day went by rather quickly and you soon found yourself standing outside the theater room with Bri.

“You ready?” She asked. You thought for a moment before turning on your heel and walking away. But Bri was quick and grabbed your arm, dragging you into the room.

“Hey Bri. Who’s your weird friend?” Eddie asked.

“I’m the weird friend? That’s rich coming from you,” you scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Use your big-boy brain and figure it out,” you replied. Bri just shook her head and sighed.

“I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea,” she mumbled to herself. The rest of the guys were just staring between you and Eddie, scared to say anything.

“Sit down. You’re a level one princess,” Eddie smirked.

“And you’re a five star douche. What’s that have to do with anything?” You shot back.

You could tell Eddie was getting frustrated which made you happy. He had no reason to judge you right off the bat so you decided to piss him off as much as possible.

“Please, for the love of gods, just sit down!” Bri whispered to you.

“I’m so glad I tagged along. I’m already having so much fun,” you told her. She just groaned and sat you down in a chair behind her. You smirked at Eddie who was giving you a death stare.

You mostly just watched the game, having to roll the dice a few times. You still didn’t understand it but you could see the appeal. The biggest thing that caught you by surprise was just how passionate Eddie was about the game, and just how attractive you found him as the dungeon master. You’d never admit that to anyone, of course, but now you could see why Bri thought you might like him.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Dustin screamed.

“Language, young man,” you scolded jokingly.

“(Y/N), you’re our last hope. You have to roll a nat 20 or else we lose,” Mike told you.

“That should be easy. Just have to roll for one singular number. On a twenty sided die!” You yelled. Eddie chuckled from across the board.

“I look forward to your defeat, m’lady,” he said.

“I look forward to you shutting the fuck up,” you mumbled.

“Language!” Dustin yelled.

“Bite me.”

“Gladly,” he purred. You just laughed and told him to blow on the die. Everyone watched with intensity as you threw the die down the table.

“Yes!!! We won!!” They all screamed. They hugged you happily as Eddie finished out his dramatic scene.

“Not too shabby for a level one,” he said, coming over afterward. “Maybe you should bring your weird friend more often, Bri.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Munson?” You asked sarcastically. He leaned on the table and dipped his head closer to yours.

“Yeah, I just might.”

His warm breath against your skin made goosebumps break out all over your body. You couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through you.

“Do you wanna head out?” Bri asked. You just nodded as Eddie looked at you wish a wolfish grin.

•the next day•

“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, slinging an arm around you in the lunch line. “Come join us.”

“No thanks. I eat in the library,” you said.

“Nope, not today. Today you feast with Hellfire,” he said dramatically.

He pulled you over to the table and Bri looked confused. You went to sit next to her but Eddie stopped you.

“Nope, you sit beside the smartest, toughest, and coolest master-“

“Masturbator, got it,” you said, sitting next to his seat. Dustin spewed milk from his nose and Jeff choked on a piece of chicken. Bri just laid her head onto her hands and sighed.

“Fucking kill me now.”

Eddie scowled at you but still took his rightful seat at the head of the table. You fell into easy conversation with the group and you actually found yourself enjoying it. Eddie waited until you had a mouthful of soda to lean over and whisper in your ear, quiet enough so only you would hear.

“So you think about me masturbating?”

You spit your drink out all over the table and down your shirt.

“Fuck!”

“You okay?” Bri asked. You dabbed are the stain setting into your top and tried to clean the table in front of you.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Eddie, may I have a word outside?”

“Anything for you, m’lady,” he said with a smirk.

You drug him from the cafeteria to an empty classroom down the hall. You pushed him inside and closed the door, shutting the blind of the window.

“I didn’t take you as a girl who spit,” he laughed. You turned around and glared at him.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are we doing this or what? Take your shirt off,” you said, pulling at the hem of your own top, lifting it enough to show him some skin.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Um, yeah, we can do this. Shit.” He fumbled to get his jacket off but he did and then off came his hellfire shirt. His torso was littered with tattoos and you took a second to admire him.

“Even better than I imagined,” you said.

“Your turn, baby,” he said, taking a step toward you. You matched his own step forward, and just when he closed his eyes to lean in and kiss you, you snatched his shirt from him and ran to the door.

“Guys are so fucking dumb,” you laughed. His eyes shot open and he was too stunned to move.

“Seriously? Give it back!” He said.

“Absolutely not. Did you think I was wearing this mess for the rest of the day? Fat chance,” you smirked. “Oh and Eddie? I definitely don’t spit.”

And with that, you walked out the door and to the bathroom, leaving a very horny and angry Eddie behind.

Eddie threw on his jacket and zipped up the front. He trudged from the room and back to the cafeteria.

“Gareth, do you still have that extra shirt I gave you a while ago?” He asked.

“Yeah it should still be in my locker…why?”

“I need it,” Eddie mumbled.

“Sure, no problem, man.”

“Do I even wanna know?” Bri sighed.

“I’m gonna show that little princess who’s boss,” he growled.

Bri met you outside after classes got out.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt? (Y/N), what’s going on?” She asked.

“He made me spit my soda all over my shirt so he gave me his,” you shrugged.

“He gave it to you?”

“I may have taken it… it’s a long story!”

“You guys are gonna be the death of me. And probably each other,” she sighed, hopping in your car.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you chuckled.

The next morning, Eddie was waiting by his van for you to pull in. As soon as you parked, he was opening up your door.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you joked.

“I want my shirt back.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Someone please kill me,” Bri groaned from the passenger seat. “I’ll see you guys later. Please don’t kill each other.”

“Why won’t you give it back?” He asked, blocking you from going any further.

“Because it’s comfortable,” you shrugged.

“But it’s mine.”

“It’s mine now. I actually wore it to bed last night, it was nice.”

“Jesus Christ, just give it back! I’m sure it doesn’t go with whatever stupid pajama bottoms you wear.”

“Who said I wear bottoms?” You asked. His mouth instantly snapped shut and you smiled. “See you later!”

Once again, he was left horny and angry at the thought of you wearing nothing but his Hellfire shirt.

You didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day, so you figured you’d give him a little present the next time you saw him. That happened to be at lunch the following day which was perfect.

You folded up his shirt and walked up behind him. You snaked your arms around him and placed the shirt in his lap, making him jump.

“Glad you finally came to your senses,” he said, leaning into your touch ever so slightly. He took a big gulp of juice just as you leaned down.

“Unfold it,” you whispered. He did as you said and his juice was immediately sprayed all over the table.

“Woah, dude!”

“Jesus, Eddie!”

“Enjoy,” you whispered.

Eddie snatched the Polaroid of you, posed in a mirror, in nothing but his Hellfire shirt with your ass on full display, and quickly shoved it in his pocket so no one else would see.

You pecked his cheek and walked off, acting like nothing happened. He wanted to get up and chase after you, but the growing bulge in the front of his pants prevented that.

He did his best to calm himself down by the end of lunch so he could hunt you down and ask you just what the fuck you were doing. Unfortunately for him, you figured he was going to come after you so you went straight to your next class. You did your best to race to your car after school, but Eddie cut his last class just to stake you out.

Your keys had just entered the lock when you were pressed against the door. You new immediately by the smell of his cologne that Eddie had found you. You tried your best to hide your smirk when you turned to face him. He had his hellfire shirt slung over his shoulder for safe keeping.

“Hey, Eddie. Funny meeting you here,” you said. He had you caged between his arms and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze.

“Do you think you’re funny?” He asked.

“Fucking hilarious, actually,” you answered. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared with anger.

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, (y/n),” he said.

“Oh is that so?” You chuckled. “I’m counting on it.”

His body was pressed to yours and you were certain he could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

“I wouldn’t ask for much- wouldn’t want to be disappointed after all.”

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he whispered.

“Absolutely not! You’re not fucking in the school parking lot and certainly not in my ride home!” Bri yelled, walking up behind you. She threw her bag in the backseat and got into the passenger side.

“I’ll see you around, Eds.” You winked before pushing him off of you and opening your door. “Oh, wait! One more thing.”

You snatched the shirt from his shoulder and quickly closed your door before he could do anything.

“Are you serious?” He yelled as you sped away. “I hate her. I hate her so much.”

About halfway home, Bri finally broke the silence.

“Sooooo what’s going on between you and Eddie?”

“What do you mean? I’m just having some fun pissing him off,” you laughed.

“I know you and I know when you pick on someone it means you like them. And boy have you teased the hell out of him,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled.

“Listen, I think you two would be good together and I don’t want you getting in your own way. And don’t say you wouldn’t!” She argued.

Her words played in your head for the rest of the drive. Did you really like Eddie or were you just having fun? You knew the answer but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You spent your Saturday night alone in your room like the party animal you were. Your parents turned in early but you decided to stay up and break open the newest addition to your comic collection.

Halfway through, you thought you heard something at your window. You waited and heard it again. You looked out and saw Eddie waving you down. He pointed at your front door and you shook your head no. He picked up a large rock and held it up like he was going to throw it. You threw your hands up and flipped him off before quietly running downstairs to the front door. He was already waiting on the front steps when you opened it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You asked.

“Did you think I was gonna let you get away with stealing my shirt a second time? Where is it?” He asked.

“Be quiet! My parents are asleep!” You whisper-yelled. “I’ll give it back on Monday; go away.”

You went to close the door but he stopped it. The way his rings shimmered in the moonlight made you shiver.

“Give it back.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“Fuck you.”

“I wish you would!” He finally snapped.

Your eyes widened and you had the biggest smirk on your face.

“Is that so, Munson?” You asked.

“Like you don’t want the same,” he scoffed. He pushed the door open wider and let himself in, pressing you against the wall in your foyer.

“Well aren’t we being presumptuous,” you chuckled. “And I have a dictionary if you need to look that up.”

“God, I hate you.”

Before you knew what was happening, his mouth was on yours in an angry kiss of tongue and teeth. He bit down on your bottom lip and it made you hiss.

His hand slid easily into your panties as you wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He wasted no time in plunging his fingers between your folds and rubbing harsh circles on your clit. The sensation made you squirm but he had you held firmly against the wall.

He changed his pace and movements and pleasure was suddenly all you could think about. He was sucking hickies all across your neck but you didn’t care enough to stop him.

He slid two fingers into you with ease, pumping them until his rings nudged your clit. You did your best to stifle your moans, not wanting your parents to wake up. You thanked the heavens that the lights were off and no one looking from the outside would be able to see what a mess he was making you.

“Not so much to say now. Huh, sweetheart?” He laughed.

You tried to think of a witty comeback but all you managed to do was whimper his name. You clenched down on his fingers and he knew you were close.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asked.

“Y-yes, Eddie,” you moaned. A few more strokes from his hand and you’d be coming undone. Only right before you could finish, he stopped completely and pulled his hand from your panties. “Wh- no!”

“Sh sh sh, wouldn’t want mommy and daddy coming down to see what the noise is, now do we?” He asked with a smirk.

He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean. You were almost embarrassed by how his fingers glistened.

“That’s it? Are you serious?!”

“As a heart attack, baby. Not fun, is it?” He walked back out onto the porch and turned around. “I want my shirt back on Monday.”

He left you on your doorstep, horny and angry. If he thought that he was getting the upper hand, he was so incredibly wrong. You went back to your room to do two things. 1. Finish what he started and 2. Plot how to take down Eddie Munson.

Part Two

——————————

Taglist:

@thebookbakery @dootys @lily-sinclair-2006 @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @munsaniac @rafecameronswhore @tiredwritersworld @mellomadness

It would mean the world to me if you could reblog this and hype it up. I really enjoyed writing it 🥺

[dhwty-writes]

The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom. 

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak. 

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?" 

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar." 

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

[coollyinterferes]

"Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, didn't ya?"

[comfortwriting]

Best friends Brother - G.W

Part 1 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2

George Weasley x Fem Reader 

About: The Reader is falling for her best mates older brother, she confines in Ron who is already afraid of losing his best friend to the brothers he’s so pressured to be like.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of food and eating, but of angst, George punching a creep.

Walking away from Hagrid’s hut towards the castle, thoughts about the more quiet Weasley twin filled your hazy head - you were planning on shooting your shot, but first you needed some advice and the only person who could do that right now is your best friend Ron - currently chewing your ear off about Hermione and the house elves. 

“She doesn’t know when to stop does she? All the S.P.E.W nonsense, if she brings it up one more time-”

“Hey, do you think George likes anyone?” you asked as cool as possible, trying to contain your nervousness and excitement. 

Although you and George had only spoken few words to one another, he was all you could think about, all you ever thought about, day in day out. You would share sweet glances and looks across the common room in the evening, the beautiful amber glare coming from the flames projecting onto George’s face, making him look like an angel. 

As much as you liked him, you were terrified that he wouldn’t feel the same, that he only saw you as his little brothers best friend - you hated it. 

Ron slowed down from his brisk walk and he continued to stare at the ground “George? As in.. my brother?” 

“yeah” you smiled shyly, swallowing hard. 

Ron could feel his heart flutter, the idea of another person - his best friend - favouring one of his legendary twin brothers over him made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t lose anyone else, he wouldn’t let it.

He pondered his thoughts, perhaps you were asking for someone else, someone Ron didn’t care about - the desperation in his stomach kept churning to find out. 

“I don’t know” he replied in a huff “we don’t really talk much, why you asking anyway?” 

You went quiet, suddenly finding interest in the scenery as the two of you edged closer to the castle. 

“uh, no reason” you lied, running your hand through your hair. 

For all of Ron’s flaws, he could tell when his best friend was lying - he never failed calling you out for it in the past, you learnt not to play any card games with him - especially when galleons were on the table. 

The two of you entered the loud castle, pushing past students in the hall, making your way to the Gryffindor common room.

“you like him, don’t you?” Ron muttered under his breath, making sure everyone else around you couldn’t hear.

You sighed and made eye contact with Ron, his facial expression even more sour than when he puked up slugs in first year. 

You walked up the stairs and held on to the rail, looking around for the Fat Lady “I suppose I do, I was thinking of asking him to-”

Ron could feel the sweat form in his palms and under his arms, images of you and George being together all the time instead of him flashed before him.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you’re two years younger than him, you haven’t spoken more than ten words to each other.” 

Your heart pained for a moment, your spirits crushing like the ingredients in one of Snape’s potions.

“I just don’t think he’ll like you that much, I don’t want you to get hurt.” he finished, the two of you finally reaching the portrait. 

“I guess so” you mumbled “you know him better than I do.”

Over the next few days you couldn’t stomach being around George, each time you looked into his gorgeous eyes and seeing him smile, caused your heart pain, a lump forming in your throat, and hot tears filling your eyes. 

At first George didn’t notice but when he would wave and smile - only to be ignored, he couldn’t help but overthink; wondering if he had done something wrong. 

It wasn’t just George who you ignored, you kept away from your best friend Ron too - Ron felt like shit but you were away from George and that gave him enough of a clear conscience to sleep at night. 

You couldn’t sleep, you missed your best friend even when he hurt your feelings, you also felt hopeless, the only person you ever showed an interest in wouldn’t even give you a chance.  

“What’s been up with Y/N lately? George asked his younger brother, buttering his toast, causing Ron to almost choke on his. 

“What you on about?” 

George rolled his eyes and swallowed his food, “unbelievable you are, she’s been avoiding you like the plague and she won’t even look at me.”  

“So, did you make up your mind yet?” 

You swore silently under your breath, recognising the voice who called out to you - an attractive and charming Hufflepuff student in George’s year with short black hair kept asking you over and over to go on a date with him in Hogsmeade, each time you said no had failed to satisfy his desire. 

“Uh” you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him to fuck off, but then again, what did you have to lose? “yeah, I’ll be there” you faked a smile. 

Ron watched in the distance and felt relieved, from his perspective, the possibility of you and George seemed incredibly slim to none. He walked over towards you as soon as the lad split, a smile creeping up on his face. 

“Y/N, alright?” he smiled, his hands in his pockets. 

You stared at him, yes you were hurt, but you missed him - he could do much worse to cause a much bigger fall out between the two of you. 

“I suppose” you sighed “walk with me to Transfiguration class?” 

Ron smiled “can do”

“and took your bloody shirt in!” you scolded him, bumping into him playfully. 

As much as you enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade, you couldn’t help but want to go back home and climb back into your warm bed, hiding away from the world - but your habit of trying to see the best in people lead you here - waiting outside Honey Dukes for your date to arrive. 

“Look at you!” he called out, walking over and kissing your hand “ready for the best day of your life?” he grinned.

Best day of my life? with you? I should’ve stayed in bed.

“Sure” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

The best day of your life wasn’t too bad, you had someone new to talk to, to try and get your mind off things - but your heart couldn’t help but yearn for George. You looked around the shops thinking of the products he liked, disliked, and what he bought for Ron at Christmas. 

Your date had more to blab about himself than get to know you, he held your hand and bought you a much needed Butterbeer - but he talked so much that he didn’t even get round to drinking his own. The more he had to say, the more he tried to impress you, the more you disliked him, making you fall for George even more. 

Finally breaking out from the busy and overwhelming pub and out into the cold, your date stood in front of you with a strange expression on his face. 

“So?” he shrugged

“so, what?” you stared at him, your patience wearing thin. 

The shared laughter between George and Ron came to a halt when George spotted you with his classmate, he knitted his brows together. 

“Why’s Y/N around that plonker?” he asked his younger brother. 

Ron looked at you then back to George “she’s on a date”

George shook his head “he’s an absolute creep” 

The two of them stared, the student took a hold of your hand and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pulled away and glared at him, trying to not make a scene. 

“Fucking pervert!” George hissed, storming over towards the two of you “Hey!”

George clenched his jaw, his nostrils flared and his glaring gaze settled on on the lad, he bunched his right hand into a fist and swung, everything went in slow motion as George punched him in the face. 

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare and watch the fight unfold. 

“Stay away from her or my foot will rip you a new one!” George threatened him, he turned to you, his facial expression instantly turning soft.

“th-thank you” 

“you don’t need to thank me love, are you alright?” George searching your eyes with his, full of care and concern. 

Your heart fluttered, his voice, him speaking to you sounded like the most fascinating birds chirping, and his caring face caused fireworks in your stomach to erupt into the sky. 

You wanted to take your chance, ask him out and start over but before you could do any of that, let alone reply, Ron hurried over and interrupted; putting you back in your place and making you remember how his brother felt about you. 

“Proper shiner he’ll have in the morning” Ron laughed “sort your knuckles out George, if anyone sees they’ll send a letter home.” 

The fluttering in your heart died down, the chirping of the birds instantly turning into the most dreadful squawks, and the fireworks in your stomach burning out, starving the embers before they could relight.  

“Thanks again” you murmured quietly, flashing George one last smile before walking away, wanting to retreat to your bed and hide away. 

George had to admit, he felt quite hurt that you went back to ignoring him after he had your back the other week - he knew that you didn’t owe him anything, not even an explanation - but he couldn’t understand why even after making up with Ron, you still refused to look at him.

Sitting on the sofa in the common room in your pyjamas, you flicked through your Quidditch magazine and blinked over and over whilst you looked across the page, sleep trying to pull you in. 

“Georgie, I’ve already said-” 

“Shhh!”

Jolting awake, you looked behind you and stared at the twins, long roles of parchment in one hand and a map in the other, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, closing your magazine. 

“It’s okay boys, I’m going to bed anyway.” you yawned again, slowly getting off the sofa. 

Fred and George shared a look, the older twin nodding his head towards you “go on then, mate, I’ll be upstairs.”

Fred walked past you, he whispered a “goodnight!” and went off to his dorm, leaving you alone with the person you wanted more than anyone in the world. 

George pursed his lips, standing around awkwardly before approaching you “Y/N, can we talk?” he asked softly. 

You nodded slowly, the nerves piping up in your tummy. 

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, love” he said softly “have I done something wrong?” 

This was your moment, not to ask him out - but to tell him the truth. 

You pushed your stray hairs out of your face and sighed, the lad of your dreams standing beside you, looking down on you. 

“I have feelings for you George” you admitted, your mouth going dry “and that’s why I have to stay away from you, because I know you’re never going to feel the same.” 

George went quiet, the embers from the fire spreading and making it set alight, the amber tones coming from the flames resting on his face. He smiled for a moment and licked his lips, looking into your eyes.

“Tomorrow night” he whispered softly in your ear “where we first met”

Tag list: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl  

[wormstacheangel]

For The Girl Who Has Everything

Masterpost link for Reelin’ In The Years: Here

AO3 Link: Here

wc: 2.4k Summary:  Claire is too mad to even look at Cas let alone talk to him. Dean knew he had to step up because two people with messed up childhoods and anger issues really need to spend more time together talking about their feelings.

When Chuck was defeated, a lot of people came to the bunker to celebrate. Those times were a big blur to Dean, his focus was on finding a way to save Cas, and it wasn’t until he saw Claire run down those steps that the world focused again. She smiled at him, a rare big grin, before her arms wrapped around his neck to bring him down for a hug with an intoxicating giggle.

‘She didn’t know,’ Dean thought as his arms hung loosely at his sides.

He hid his face in her curls, not knowing how to face another kid Cas left behind because of him. He was holding his breath when she pulled away to look at him. Her eyebrows were raised in a question that Dean didn’t hear. Didn’t want to hear.

She repeated it, “Dude, where’s Cas? Is the old man sleeping or something?”

‘Yes.’ Dean swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

He didn’t look at the audience around them when he finally opened his mouth to say, “Claire, Ca—” He couldn’t say his name. He felt like it would tear the fragile wall that was keeping him on his feet if he did. “I’m sorry.”

Dean watched as her face twisted into confusion, understanding, and then settling into anger.

She was trying to fight the tears, but they fell as she yelled, “No! No, you were—Where were you? Why didn’t you protect him?”

“He protected me. He—he saved me.”

She looked at him with round eyes, shaking her head as if not wanting to believe it.

“Then it should’ve been you! You should’ve died! Not him!” Dean flinched at the words that have been echoing in his head since that night. “It’s not fair!”

Claire’s angry fist collided with his chest. He flinched at every hit but didn’t back away as her punches became sporadic but still filled with grief. Maybe even guilt.

“I’m sorry.” Dean knew those words did nothing to comfort, but he couldn’t help but say them. “I’m so sorry, Claire.”

She screamed in frustration until her punches weakened, and he was holding her. Then, finally, she fell against him, her face hidden in his chest as her grip tightened on his shirt.

She didn’t stay after that.

She walked back up the stairs with Jody and Kaia following behind her. Jack tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t even look at him. Dean couldn’t blame her.

It’s hard to look at the kid when he reminded them of the person they lost.

Of course, Dean never told Cas any of this.

Since coming back, Cas had been dealing with the silent treatment from the killer Barbie. She only replied with the thumbs-up emoji, and when Cas was too much, she responded with the middle finger emoji. A little warning advising Cas to back off.

She only visited him once, but that was when Cas was in the hospital. She freaked out, yelled at him for being stupid, and then passed out by his bed only to leave the next morning like nothing ever happened. Still, it made Cas feel a little better knowing she still cared, but she was dealing with it her way. Or, as Cas liked to say, she was dealing with feelings the Dean Winchester way. Of course, he’ll argue it wasn’t true, but he knows he won’t win that one.

Now he was sitting awkwardly in Jody’s living room watching Kaia and Patience play with Jack on the floor while Claire and Cas had a yelling match in the privacy of the backyard. Well, Claire was yelling while Cas was trying very hard to keep his tone even, which only made Claire angrier.

“I’m done talking to you!” Claire slid the glass door open and stormed through the living room.

“Then try listening to me!” Cas followed behind her, watching as she walked straight past the living room and towards the front door. “Claire. Claire, where are you going?”

She whipped around to glare daggers at Cas, eyes wide filled with tears, but she still looked at him with a pained grimace. “Did you even think of me? When you were out there being a damn hero. Did you-Did you think of me?” Her voice breaking on the last word made Dean flinch.

“Claire, of course-”

“No. No, of course, you didn’t. Cause if you did, then you wouldn’t have-” She bit her cheek as tears started to fall. She stood tall, presenting as strong, as her expression hardened. “You left me, Castiel. And now I-I don’t,” She looked around the room. It was quiet as everyone watched the interaction before her eyes landed on a little Jack in Kaia’s arms. She clicked her tongue before turning back to the door. “I’m leaving.”

“Claire.” Cas tried following her, but Dean quickly rushed up to stop him. “Dean. I may not have my strength, but I will-”

“Calm down, Rocky,” Dean had a hand on Cas’s shoulder to stop him. “I just wanted to stop you from making it worse.”

“I don’t think I can. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t.” He assures his boyfriend with a little smile, but Cas simply rolled his eyes at him. “Okay, you stay here. Talk to your son, and I’ll go talk to the other kid.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to say to her?”

“I don’t know, but like you said before. Two fuck up’s just understand each other.”

“I didn’t say-”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just let me handle this. You trust me, right?”

Cas made a face at that, not answering quickly enough before he said, “Just bring her home.”

“Gee. Thanks for the confidence, babe.”

Dean ran after Claire, forcing his way to her passenger side as she started to back up on the driveway.

“Thanks for waiting, kid. Where we going?” Dean buckled up just in time for Claire to slam the breaks. Unfortunately, he hit his head on the front dash because the damn seat was scooted forward, his knees were practically pressed against his chest, which made sense knowing a tiny Kaia would usually occupy the seat. “Ow.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Get out.”

Dean ignored her scary and oddly familiar glare as he pushed the seat back so his legs could fit. “Oh, come on. My treat.”

She didn’t have time to argue because Cas walked out of the front door—his trust in him really was lacking—and Claire decided that dealing with Dean was much easier than having to talk to Cas again. But, of course, he would take that as a compliment.

Claire drove with loud rocker girl music vibrating the windows and didn’t stop until she finally parked outside some ice cream shop.

“I want a shake.” She sniffled, and Dean did his best to ignore her red blotchy eyes for her sake.

“Sure, kid.”

They drank their shakes and shared some fries while sitting on top of Claire’s ugly little red. Well, she sat, and he leaned, but either way, silence remained.

He didn’t want to pressure her to talk—she would probably lie if he did—but still, he wanted to ease the tension between Cas and her, salvage a relationship he knew was important to both of them, but he didn’t know where to start.

Maybe he could start with his own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat as he felt the smooth ice cream start to turn to gum down his throat. He looked down at his shake, lifting the straw up and down to hear the gloppy sound while trying to figure out what to say to her.

She hummed, “‘bout what?”

“Not telling you. About Cas. What happened to him.” He sighed and looked back at her. “Sorry. I should have called, but I wasn’t—I was a mess. I couldn’t be there for you. I couldn’t even be there for Jack. I should have-”

“It’s okay.” She waved her hand up to stop him. “I-I get it. I mean, it’s not, but whatever.”

“So, are you gonna tell me why you’re mad?”

She rolled her eyes, once again the gesture was familiar, before slamming the shake on the hood and sliding off the car. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking so small as she kicked a pebble on the floor.

“He replaced me.”

Her voice was quiet. Almost like she didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“I know it’s stupid and-and I’m acting like a child, but…” She quickly sniffled again before running her hand through her hair nervously. Looking up to stare into the darkening sky, acting like everything was okay. “He’s not my Dad, but he’s the closest thing I have, and I just thought—I just thought that maybe he felt the same way.”

She shrugged, her lips pinching together as if trying to hold something back, before retaking control of her expression. A glare directed towards Dean replaced the lost child stare into the stars, but the lost child was still there.

“Kid…” Dean sighed, head scrambling for words.

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me.”

Claire teased with a little smirk. She definitely learned this from Dean or Jody. “Whatever you say, old man.”

“Old—Claire.” She let out a breath of a laugh before rolling her eyes away from Dean. “I’m trying to be serious. Cas… he loves you. He-he loves you like you were his own.” She didn’t look at him, but he could see her face scrunch up, ready to argue. “He worries about you constantly, and Jack knows all about you because he won’t shut up about how awesome you are.”

“He says that? He says I’m awesome?”

“Well, awesome is my word, but you get the gist.” He turns to face her even though she doesn’t meet his gaze. “Cas may not be your Dad, but he loves you like a daughter. Sometimes—yeah, a lot of the time actually—he makes stupid decisions, but it’s cause he is trying his best. And he cares. That dumbass cares way too much about the damn world, but he’s also someone who would give up the whole world if it meant keeping you safe.”

“Stop making excuses for him!”

“Claire, you gotta believe me. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She finally turned to look at him. “But he did. He hurt me! He left me!”

“He left me too!” Dean raised his voice; it sounded broken to admit such a thing out loud. And to Claire of all people. He slumped down against the car again and looked at the ground to ignore her big blue eyes throwing sympathy glares his way. “He left me—more times than you know. And—and don’t tell anyone I told you this—but I…I was scared. Each goddamn time I’m scared that this may be it! That this time…this time he won’t come back to me.”

“But he did.” Her voice sounded so far away.

“Yeah. Had to work a little bit harder on my end, but I got him.” He reached over and patted her shoulder. “We got him back.”

Something in the way her eyes went cold and far away made his fight drain out. He didn’t know what else he could do or say, but he opened his arms just in time to have her fall against him. His face mushed into her curls while he hugged her tight into his chest.

“Were you mad at Cas?”

Dean thought about it for a second. “No. I mean, I was at first. That asshole got himself killed over and over again. Leaving me alone.”

“But you had Sam. Jack.”

“Yeah,” Dean pulled back and looked down at her. “Well, you had Jody. Kaia. Alex. Patience and even Donna. Made it any easier for you?”

“No.”

“No.” He chuckled while she hid her face from him, asking him to continue. “But I was mad at him. Real fucking pissed, actually. At him. At…at everyone. Sam and Jack didn’t even wanna be near me.” He tries to shake off those dark memories of screaming and feeling nothing but agonizing loneliness. “I just shut down and gave up on…a lot of things because he was gone. Couldn’t really see a point, you know?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I get why you’re mad, Claire. Trust me, I do, but he’s back now.”

“And I’m just supposed to forgive him? Did you just forgive him?”

Dean shrugged, looking back down at her sad baby blues. Hoping she would understand and that she won’t tease him about it later on. “I didn’t want to waste any time being mad at him. I love him too much.”

“Gross.” She pushed him away this time, tucking her hair behind her ear before smiling at him. It reminded him of Jack’s little shy smile. “But I-I think you’re right. Maybe I’m done wasting time.”

They drove back with the music luckily a little lower but Dean just watched Claire drive with a growing smile on his face. He’s gonna have to admit that Cas was right, two messed up people can really relate and help each other out.

When they walked into the house, Dean took Jody from marching over to Claire to lecture her. “Just wait,” he whispered to her, and luckily she listened to him. They both held their breath as Claire walked over to Cas—who looked like he had been sitting in that seat freaking out since they left—and asked if they could try talking outside again. He blinked up at her a few times before nodding, following her to the backyard again.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief when the glass door closed behind them.

“Dean.” He looked up towards his kid, who reached for him from Kaia’s arms on the couch. Dean quickly walked over to pick him up, pressing a kiss to his head while trying not to let guilt eat at him. “Is Dad okay?”

“Don’t worry, bud.” Dean watched Jack’s eyes that showed how much he has experienced, how much he understood. “He’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

On the drive back, Cas had a smile plastered across his face. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about what happened, considering Cas walked in, ready to introduce Jack to Claire. Then Cas spent the rest of the night watching his kids getting along, looking the happiest Dean had seen him in a really long time.

“So, what did you and Claire talk about?”

Cas hummed before looking up at Dean as if just remembering that he was there. “Oh. Um, she just made me promise her something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Same thing I promised you. Don’t get dead anymore.”

“Oh. Good. Keep that promise.”

“I’ll do my best.” Cas looked back at Jack before he leaned over and pressed a kiss on Dean’s cheek. “I have a lot to live for now. A family.”

A family. Yeah.

Dean took a peek at Jack with the mirror and then watched as Cas changed his phone background pic to one of Claire spinning Jack around in the living room.

They were a real family.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Unlikely friends: Imagine being Toph’s cousin and befriending Azula, much to the gang’s horror and confusion as it starts to become something more...

Note: The is loosely based on the comic the search which takes place after the tv show ended

Part two here

part three here

Your pov

You’d never been exposed to Azula much. Of course you knew who she was, everyone in the four nations did, but you’d never met her face to face. You only joined the gang after Zuko was firelord and so the first time you met her was when Zuko recruited her to help find his mother.

You were at the royal palace when Zuko revealed his sister would be coming on the trip with the rest of you. The others all gasped as a girl appeared beside Zuko but you just blinked confused. The girl in front of you was your age, average to small height and honestly just looked tired and worn down. You’d heard Azula had been locked up for a year due to her mental health difficulties and you couldn’t understand how the others didn’t see this all over her.

Zuko noticed you staring at Azula and realised you’d never met before. “Ow you don’t know each other....y/n this is Azula, Azula this is y/n Toph’s cousin”. “Hmmm a Beifong so not a peasant but earth kingdom scum is still earth kingdom scum” Azula replied glancing over you. “Azula!” Zuko snapped but you just shrugged “it’s fine, nice to meet you Azula”. Azula blinked at you confused at the notion any one of her brother’s friends would ever be pleased to see her. She stared at you before moving past you. “Sorry she’s....like that” Zuko commented and you smiled “no need to apologise, i’m sure after everything she’s been through this is hard for her, tracking your mother down...I bet she’s very nervous to be seeing her again, that’s probably why she’s lashing out”. Zuko frowned “I guess, I hadn’t thought of it that way...”.

Throughout the trip you had more patience with Azula than the others because you empathised with her. Yes, she was rude and snarky but you could tell she was only doing that to get a reaction out of the people she knew hated her. You’d grown up with difficult people who liked to annoy an reaction out of you (your cousin was Toph freaking Beifong) and so you knew they usually did it when they didn’t feel welcome or good about themselves. So you never responded to Azula’s quips about you or retaliated in any way and slowly she stopped. Soon you noticed you were the only one in the group who Azula didn’t rush to attack. She largely acted like you weren’t there but you took that as a good sign. If it was just the two of you she seemed more relaxed, less guarded and you were glad you had that effect on her. You wanted her to know not everyone hated her and apparently she did. 

Obviously however Azula couldn’t just be alone with you the whole trip. She was surrounded by the gang who rightfully mistrusted and intensely disliked her. It was a stressful environment and you saw its growing mark on Azula each day...

You usually took the main night watch as you didn’t need as much sleep as the others and you’d noticed while everyone else slept soundly Azula would often jerk and mutter in her sleep endlessly. One night it was particularly bad. Azula curled up into herself and her mutterings sounded more like whimpers. You tried to ignore it and just focus on your book but after a while you couldn’t. So you approached her slowly and realised she must be having a particularly bad nightmare. Azula” you called trying to wake her up. When the girl didn’t respond you walked closer and knelt down beside her “Azula?” you called shaking her slightly. Azula jolted awake suddenly, sitting up so fast she almost headbutted you. She flinched away from you, fire at her fingertips before she blinked “ow it’s just you, what were you doing leaning over me?”. “You were having a nightmare I was trying to wake you” you replied and Azula glared “impossible nightmares are for weak people and children”. You laughed “no they’re not! Everyone gets nightmares, it’s not something you can control and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re weak”. Azula huffed sitting up and pulled her legs into her chest “well either way I wasn’t having one okay?”. You nodded your head raising your hands in surrender “fine”. Silence settled and you looked at her “well i’m going to go sit back by the fire, you can join me if you want. It’d be nice to have some company”. Azula huffed “no thank you” she said sarcastically and you shrugged “suit yourself but the invite is there”.

You sat down by the fire and returned to your book. You heard Azula shuffling around and after a few minutes saw her stand up and head towards you. You pretended not to notice as Azula got closer and only looked up when she reached the campfire. “Since you rudely woke me up and I can’t get back to sleep I’ve decided to sit here, there’s no point just laying on the floor”. You nodded your head “that makes sense” and smiled slightly. Azula looked down embarrassed but seemed grateful you didn’t push it. You sat in comfortable silence, only talking fleetingly and it was calm and neutral. Azula looked the most relaxed and normal you’d ever seen her and sure enough she soon fell back to sleep. You smiled and grabbed a blanket laying it over her. She may be difficult but difficult people were that way because they were hurting. You could sense that in Azula and didn’t want to cause her any more harm. You thought Azula could sense your intentions to her were different than the other’s and that’s why she behaved differently with you. Every time you interacted you saw more of Azula, the healthy happier Azula, but all the walls went back up as soon as the others were around. It upset you Azula didn’t feel comfortable with the others but at least feeling comfortable with one person was a start.

3 days later

You were finally only one day away from reaching the village Zuko’s mom was in and you all sat around discussing what to do next. Well apart from Azula, she was always made to stand away when you discussed plans, nobody forced her to but she felt unwelcomed so would usually go sulk out of earshot. It was decided you’d make the journey the next morning rather than arriving in the middle of the night. You nodded along with the plans before standing up and heading off in Azula’s direction “okay i’ll go let her know”. “Let who know?” Katara asked and you paused “Azula, she doesn’t know the plan”. “So?” Zuko asked and you hesitated “well shouldn’t we tell her....i mean she’s a part of the group now, she deserves to know what we’re dragging her into”. Aang nodded, Toph and Sokka shrugged but Katara and Zuko didn’t look convinced. “Fine i guess” Zuko shrugged and you nodded, going to get Azula from her stance by the woods. The gang all watching on confused. 

The next day

You reached Ursa’s village the next day and found her home easily. She was thrilled to see her children again and the town threw a large party to celebrate the return of Ursa’s son the fire lord. You all attended and the whole gang looked so happy to finally be off the road and in a house, Zuko especially was in high spirits. He was beaming, a grin spread from ear to ear and you smiled to see he hadn’t left his mother’s side since he’d found her again. You saw Zuko’s family, his mom, new little sister Kiyi and stepdad all sat together and paused....they looked like a perfect happy family but someone was missing. You glanced around and saw Azula was outside, as far away from the happy occasion as she could get and was staring intensely at the surrounding scenery. You made your way outside and Azula jumped. “Only me” you said holding up a hand and Azula lowered her hands but her shoulders were still tensed “what do you want?”. “Nothing” you shrugged “just wanted to see if you were okay”. “Of course i’m okay” Azula snapped and you frowned. Over the period you’d spent travelling you’d seen Azula improve, she was less jumpy and agitated but the second you’d reached her mother’s town she was right back at square one. Her mother had been the reason for her initial mental breakdown and you were worried something like this could set her over the edge again. You knew Azula wasn’t one for small talk but wanted her to feel less alone so started talking to her. “You know I haven’t seen my family in 5 years?”. Azula didn’t attack you so you carried on. “They sent me to go live with Toph’s parents when I was 12 and I haven’t seen them since. To be honest it wasn’t a big move I was at Toph’s all the time but still to make it permanent... My father...he worked a lot so I never saw him even when I was home but as for my other family. My mom and I never saw eye to eye on anything, she hated all my decisions and honestly I think she was glad when I left...it gave her more time to focus on my brothers. Her favourites, she’s always preferred my brothers to me just because they’ll carry on the name or whatever”. You trailed off and Azula raised an eyebrow “are you actually trying to bond with me over mommy issues?”. You paused and rushed to explain you weren’t trying anything when you saw Azula had a slight smirk on her face and so you smiled. “Why not?” you asked “my point is, my parents were never there for me and I turned out fine! They only have as much power over you as you let them. Azula tutted “you should save the philosophy for Aang y/n”. You smiled “I probably should but all i’m saying is you’re not a product of what they’ve done to you unless you let yourself be, unless you hold onto that anger. I’ve forgiven my mother and father for how they treated me”. Azula spun on you and you jumped to see how angry she suddenly looked. “You expect me to believe after all she did to you, you forgave her? How stupid do you think I am?”. “I have” you said confused “I hold no anger towards my mother anymore”. “Well you should” Azula commented “she doesn’t deserve anything less”. You shrugged “maybe so but that anger was causing me way more harm than it was her”. Azula didn’t respond and you frowned. “I haven’t forgotten what she...what all my family did to me and I haven’t let them off for it, I set boundaries and refuse to let them treat me that way anymore...but I also don’t fixate over what happened, it happened, it was in the past and that’s where it should stay...that’s where I make it stay, I won’t let it take up any more of my time”. Silence settled and as time stretched on you stopped expecting a reply. That was fine with you, you just hoped any part of what you’d said had made Azula feel a little better. “I’m cold so i’m going to head back inside, you could come with me? I hate entering parties alone” you tried to joke but Azula didn’t glance at you. You shrugged and started back inside when Azula sighed and appeared beside you “come on then, if I must hold your hand with everything”. You grinned as you realised this was Azula’s way of saying she’d come back to the party with you. “But we’re getting food” Azula told you “i’m starving, that food Sokka hands out is awful”. You grinned as you walked in together “blubbered seal jerky, it is awful but it does sustain you”, Azula wrinkled her nose in disgust and you laughed. “I never figured you a picky eater”. “I’m not” Azula said defiantly “but i refuse to eat any animal’s blubber” she commented piling a plate with food. Not wanting to make her eat alone you copied her and filled a plate too. You found a table near the outskirts of the party and sat down together. Azula tucked into her food and you were surprised at her appetite though you knew you shouldn’t be. The girl was a machine of muscle and strength, of course she ate a lot. Still you watched impressed as Azula cleared her plate "you were hungry" you grinned and Azula smirked "why do you never believe me?". "I don’t know maybe your whole history with manipulation?". Azula’s smirk vanished and you worried you’d gone too far when she laughed. It was odd seeing her face contort into a laugh and her shoulders shake but a good weird. You liked seeing it and felt very proud you’d made the fearsome and dreadful Azula laugh. So proud you didn’t even notice that your and Azula’s table was getting attention.

Ursa’s POV

Ursa’s head shot up as she heard a vaguely familiar but sorely missed sound and her eyes landed on Azula almost instantly. Azula was laughing! She was smiling at a friend and appeared happy. Joy filled Ursa’s heart and she felt her eyes tear up to see her daughter happy. "Mother?" Zuko asked and she jumped. "Are you okay?" Zuko asked and she nodded "it’s just your sister...". "What has she done now?" Zuko snapped and Ursa shook her head "nothing! I just, i know i showed favourites and i always regretted leaving you both, i worried it would impact you both beyond repair especially Azula but then i saw her smiling...". Zuko followed his mothers gaze not believing her until he saw Azula beside you. His mother was right, Azula was actually smiling...well her form of a smile which was more of an upturned lip but still for Azula that was insane. "Who is her friend?" Ursa asked "she seems lovely". "Y/n" Zuko said confused "i didn’t even know they were friends" he was ashamed to admit. Ursa noticed and patted his back "i know things can’t have been easy and i’m sorry for my part in that but things can only get better now, for all of us" she said glancing back to Azula and Zuko nodded "apparently so".

Your POV

After the party was finished you were heading to your shared room with Toph when Katara appeared "y/n can we talk?". You shrugged and motioned for her to follow you into the room. She did and once inside you turned to her expectantly. "What are you doing are you insane!" she burst. You blinked "come again?". "Since when are you friends with Azula! Why would you want to be? What is wrong with you?". You took in the comments and breathed "erm...i guess we’ve become friends over the journey, i have spent the most time with her, i didn’t try to become friends with her i just talked to her and treated her like a human and it kind of just happened. As for what’s wrong with me....how long have you got?". Toph laughed and Katara glared "y/n this isn’t funny, don’t you remember all she’s done!". You rolled your eyes "ow yeah all water under the bridge...of course i haven’t forgotten what she's done but i have seen enough of her to know she’s just as broken as Zuko, she’s human Katara and she deserves the decency of being treated like one". Katara tutted "i don’t remember seeing an inch of humanity in her". "Well i’m sure if you start really looking at her you'll find it" you said sharply "now I’m going to bed so goodnight" and you turned away from the water bender letting her know this conversation was over.

Mai’s POV After Ursa had been found everyone returned to the fire nation to celebrate. Zuko was the happiest Mai had ever seen him but he wasn’t the only one who returned from the journey oddly happy. Thanks to her help Azula hadn’t been locked back up upon her return and she was freely roaming the palace. Old habits die hard and Mai found herself watching the girl who’d tormented her through her childhood and was surprised by what she saw. Azula had made a friend and one that actually seemed to genuinely like her judging by your smile. "So...Azula and y/n seem to get on" Mai commented and Zuko nodded amazed that this friendship had formed and that Azula was here at the party at all. He figured knowing their mother would be here she’d have run and hidden but here she was. "They seem quite close" Mai carried on "are they...is it more than a friendship?". Zuko paused "what?". Ty lee nodded "i was thinking the same thing, notice how Azula hardly looks away from her?". Mai nodded and Zuko frowned, clearly lost in the conversation. "I don’t know...i don’t think so" he babbled. Mai rolled her eyes at how clueless Zuko was "well is y/n or has y/n ever dated anyone to your knowledge". "No..." Zuko frowned. "They’re so dating" Ty lee grinned and Zuko frowned "are you sure? I mean my sister...date anyone?". Mai shook her head "you know she is a human being right Zuko? And an attractive one at that, i wouldn’t be surprised if she and y/n kindled something it's actually rather...sweet".

 Azula’s POV

Azula had only agreed to come to this party because you were going to be here and also because she’d been assured her mother wouldn’t try anything with her. Still Azula had been apprehensive to attend and the second you left her side her suspicions were confirmed. She was ambushed.  "Sooooo" Azula heard and turned to see an old friend? Ex friend? She still wasn’t sure but either way there was Ty lee grinning her. "Ty lee" she nodded at her curtly. "It’s good to see you" Ty lee smiled "i noticed you and y/n seem close". Azula raised an eyebrow, Ty lee was never good at being subtle and clearly meant something more with those words. "If you’re worried she’s beating you in the rankings of friendship you needn’t worry, you dropped right out of there the minute you betrayed me". Ty lee paused and Azula smirked "your face, you always were too easy to fool". Ty lee laughed nervously, Azula knew how to joke now?  "But seriously what’s up with you and y/n? Is it friends....is it more?". Azula paused "more?". "Well you guys just seemed very close" Ty lee shrugged "almost couple-y". Azula paused, this was a new perspective for her, she hadn’t even thought about her friendship with you or that it could be something more....now the idea was there she realised it wasn’t such a bad one.  She liked you, she thought you were nice to be around and funny. Not to mention you were beautiful and athletic. Azula thought it over while Ty lee almost burst. "So?" Ty lee finally asked and Azula paused. She didn’t want Ty lee to go around telling people before she even knew what she wanted so she shook her head "me and y/n are just friends". Ty lee looked disappointed "ow...well i’m still glad you’ve got such a good friend, you look a lot happier than i’ve ever seen you" Ty lee smiled and Azula realised she was. Even here at the palace where she had so many bad memories it wasn’t as bad anymore. Azula suspected a lot of that was because of you and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. How hadn’t she worked this out sooner? 

A few days later

All good things had to come to an end. With the mission a success the avatar and all his friends were leaving the fire nation soon and Azula knew you were planning on leaving too. You were going to help the little earth bender with her school. Azula knew Toph was the person you cared most about in the world so of course you’d want to go with her but part of her wished you wouldn’t. She wished you had nothing to pull you away from her.

She’d heard from Zuko you were leaving soon and so she debated back and forth if she should come see you to say goodbye or just let you go. As the time trickled away and the day of your departure arrived she decided to just swallow her pride and come and find you. She found you in your room in the palace doing some very late packing. You had apparently just finished as she found you lining up your luggage for the trip. “Azula” you said happily spotting her and she couldn’t help but smile “hi y/n”. “Hello” you smiled “how are you?”. “I’m good, and you?”. “Great” you smiled “we’re all set to leave soon! I can’t wait to get home”. Azula nodded “I can imagine” and stared at the floor. “Is everything okay?” you asked and Azula tensed. “Everything’s fine I just wanted to say goodbye”  Azula shrugged meeting your eye and smiling slightly. She thought she’d been pretty convincing but apparently not.

Your POV

"Azula what’s wrong? I can tell somethings bothering you" you said frowning and came to stand closer to her. You could tell she was nervous, something you’d rarely seen on the firebender’s face. "I...i was just wondering when you were coming to the fire nation again?". You paused "well i’m not sure honestly, i guess whenever the gang comes again, why have you got a big festival coming up or something?". Azula shook her head "no we don’t...". She sounded disappointed and an idea formed in your head, did Azula not want you to go? "The gang might be too busy to just swing by but that doesn’t mean i can’t" you said testing the water and saw Azula’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush slightly. "I think that would be nice" she said looking down and you smiled softly. Azula wanted you around! "Yeah?" you asked and Azula nodded "i guess i’ve become...accustomed to your presence" she said.

You almost laughed that this was what Azula thought was an honest compliment. No, Azula could do better than that so you prompted her.

"Accustomed to my presence?" you asked raising an eyebrow and Azula searched for words before sighing. "I like being around you" she shrugged going red "so you coming back to the fire nation wouldn’t be a bad thing i guess". You grinned "you’d cope with that idea?". Azula nodded her head still blushing "i would". You laughed and couldn’t stop smiling at Azula’s blush. "Well in that case i’d be more than happy to have regular visits, not to mention you can come visit me and Toph at her school anytime you want". "I can?" Azula asked and you nodded "of course! You think i’d leave you all alone with these firebenders and no escape route". Azula smiled at you, a genuine happy smile and nodded her head "that’s...thank you, i’m sure i’ll be taking you up on that offer frequently". "As much as you want" you said taking her hand "i mean it Azula, even if it’s just for a few hours or a night, you’re always welcome with me". Azula stared at you and wondered again how she hadn’t realised she liked you before. It was so obvious to her now, she only hoped it wasn’t so obvious to you but judging by the fact she had a permanent blush this whole time she wasn’t too sure about that. Azula nodded "thank you y/n" and you smiled "no problem". You carried on looking at her before blushing at your close proximity and stepped away. "So i best be going but expect many letters". Azula chucked and you shrugged "what? I’m not kidding? I love writing letters, you will receive many from me, once a day if you’re lucky". Azula smiled "i promise to reply to every single one" and you grinned "you better". You started towards the door and stopped to look back at her. "I’ve really enjoyed our time together and I just wanted you to know...i think you’re pretty amazing”. Azula blushed "thank you....you’re also very good". You chuckled at her awkward reply and smiled "all i meant was, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough, from where i’m standing...that’s not the case at all, in any way". Azula’s face turned an even deeper shade of red and you smiled. "Anyway i’ll go now, bye Azula". "Bye y/n" she managed and with a last smile you were gone. Azula immediately felt a pang of loneliness but then thought of what you’d do. She took a few deep breaths and repeated what you’d told her. She was good enough, she was more than good enough, she didn’t need to be insecure or cruel. She opened her eyes, let out a sigh and turned to her daily tasks. She'd see you again soon enough and only 13 hours until your promised daily letter, Azula could wait that long.

____

I absolutely love this idea of Azula finding someone she can be open and vulnerable with and might make this into a 3 part series??

[teawaffles]

Louis and the Aquaria: Chapter 2

Two days after that. The normally-unused hall had undergone a complete transformation — and Fred was stunned.

“Wow……”

Sitting before him were three large water tanks, roughly five metres wide. Within each one were some aquatic plants, as well as 20 to 30 fish in a range of vibrant colours and distinctive appearances. They swam through the water, sometimes gracefully, sometimes powerfully — the beauty of the aquaria was simply overwhelming.

“What do you think, Fred?” asked Louis, as he walked up to him.

Without taking his gaze off the tanks, Fred shared his thoughts.

“I’ve never seen such beautiful fish. Are they all from other countries?”

“Indeed. Southeast Asia, Africa, and South America — I heard that they were collected from these three regions and brought here via special channels. There was a concern that the quality of our local water would not be suitable, hence even the water has been directly imported from their native rivers and lakes.”

“The scale here sure is different……”

Even the water that filled these tanks had been procured from the fishes’ native habitats: once again, the thoroughness of this endeavour left Fred in awe.

“I’m planning to bring in more of Herder’s equipment at a later date; but for now, all I can do is to watch over them like this…… Oh?”

Noticing something strange, Louis peered into one of the tanks.

Before his eyes, a small pufferfish was biting the fins of its tank mates. Looking at the other aquaria, it was clear that other tiny skirmishes had broken out.

Seeing the colourful fish engaged in unbecoming violence, Fred looked puzzled.

“It seems even fish need to be compatible with one another.”

“Indeed. It looks like it isn’t enough to simply divide them by their native regions.”

Hesitating a little, Louis slowly put his hand into the tank, and broke up the fishes’ fight as gently as possible. [1] Confirming that the conflict had been resolved for now, he breathed a sigh.

However, Fred spoke up in concern.

“If it’s already like this from the start, Mr Louis, then it looks like it’s going to be quite difficult for you.”

“Still, it must be done. ——For the sake of William’s plan.”

Hearing those words filled with conviction, once again, Fred could feel the strength of Louis’s emotions toward his brother.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Two days after the fish had moved into the mansion, the hall underwent another transformation.

The curtains had been drawn, and the entire room was dim. The large water tanks had been removed, and around twenty small aquaria were now lined up in their stead. Each tank was outfitted with the latest cutting-edge machinery to assist in the fishes’ upkeep.

In charge of their care, Louis quietly strolled among the tanks, scrutinising the fishes’ appearances one by one.

“Yo, Louis. How are they?”

Just as he’d completed his round of checks, Moran and Fred entered the hall.

Looking at his notes on the conditions of his charges, Louis answered in a businesslike manner.

“There are no problems at present. I’ve finally managed to understand their individual dispositions, hence their care should proceed more smoothly from here.”

“That’s great — though, it has gotten a little crowded in here.”

Moran looked around the room. Beside him, Fred was staring curiously at a device attached to the top of the tank.

“Is this machine necessary for taking care of them?”

“Yeah, it’s called a filter: it serves to improve the water quality,” Louis explained briefly.

In order to ensure he'd covered all bases, Louis spared no effort in his research, making detailed reports to Herder as he employed a variety of equipment in the fishes’ care.

Certainly, for the aquaria to be mechanised to such an extent, the level of technology required was several steps ahead of its time. To use such revolutionary technology for the sole purpose of rearing tropical fish: one could even call it extravagant.

As Moran watched the machines in operation, a dubious look crossed his face.

“These guys have been living in the wild up to this point, so it does feel a bit pitiful for them to be shut indoors all day. Why don’t you let them swim in the big pond outside once in a while?”

But Louis gently dismissed his proposal.

“I understand where you’re coming from; but we have to consider issues like how they would adapt to the water, and so I have refrained from doing that.”

“Then, at least bring the tanks outside so they can enjoy the sun.”


“That can’t be done either. If the aquaria were to be placed under direct sunlight, there would be other problems such as algal growth and spikes in water temperature. Hence, the day-night cycle has been replicated using artificial light.”

“An artificial sun, huh. All thanks to the development of industry,” Moran muttered.

Louis turned his gaze toward the lights installed above the tanks.

“These incandescent bulbs and other electrical technologies are still yet to be widespread — one can really feel the portent of Mr Herder’s work.” [2] [3]

As the two men made small talk, Fred watched the fish in the aquaria, his face aglow.

Then, the door to the hall opened.

Rhythmic footsteps echoed, and in came William.

“Nii-san.”

Louis broke off his conversation with Moran, and turned to face his brother.

“How has your work been?”

“It’s going well. Once we convey to Stapleton that we’re keeping tropical fish, I’m sure his interest will be piqued.”

“That’s good to hear. I hope your contact with him will be a success.”

“Thank you. And I’m glad to see that the fish are doing well. As I thought, it was the right decision to entrust their care to you, Louis.”

“I owe that to both your and Mr Herder’s help.”

Even as his reply was modest, Louis puffed out his chest.

Watching how close the two brothers were, the elder Moran smiled. But as he looked at the aquaria again, a tiny doubt suddenly struck him.

“By the way, we’re keeping these fish so we can meet with this Stapleton guy, right? Then when that’s done, what’ll happen to them?”

Louis tilted his head slightly as he pondered.

“Well…… As far as I understood his nature, in all likelihood, he’ll want to take the fish. In that case, we’ll probably hand them all over to him.”

He’d said that with a straight face, and Moran was stunned.

“Really? Don’t you think we should keep at least one of these tanks in the mansion?”

“No, not at all. These fish were collected for the sole purpose of my brother’s plan — they are simply a means to an end, and I hold no greater affection for them beyond that.”

“I-I see……”

For Moran and Louis, even as they shared William’s ambitions as his comrades, they knew full well they were but one of his chess pieces: if he were to order them to die, they were prepared to lay down their lives at any moment.

These fish were also no more than tools — everyone in the room understood that. But upon hearing how bluntly Louis put it, the older man could not hide his astonishment.

Next to them, William glanced over the fish.

“Still, they do look rather healthy, swimming around like that. For one, the colours of these Puntius rhomboocellatus are rather vibrant.”

“Ah, so that’s their name? It’s quite a mouthful.”

What William had just mentioned was the scientific name of the fish. In the event that Louis was unable to care for the fish, Moran and Fred had also familiarised themselves with their names just in case; but since they felt rather formal, Moran didn’t use them very much.

At his brother’s satisfied expression, Louis beamed with joy.

“You have a wonderful eye for aesthetics, nii-san. Besides those, I would also recommend the Mikrogeophagus ramirezi.”

“Hm, they’re a beautiful shade of blue. Though I personally like the Neolamprologus brichardi over here as well.”

“I see. Then what do you think about the Julidochromis transcriptus and Pelvicachromis taeniatus? Both are from Africa too.”

“……You know, it’s great that you guys get along so well — but can we leave it at that?”

Moran’s eye twitched. But they ignored his puzzlement, and continued their jargon-filled exchange.

“Still, taking the practical view, I quite like these Corydoras paleatus for cleaning up remnants of food from the tank. On the other hand, these Laubuka dadiburjori will jump out of the aquaria if they’re left uncovered, and I had a hard time finding tank mates for the Boraras urophthalmoides.”

“Speaking of utility, Louis: I suppose you would fancy the algae-eating Siamese flying fox as well?”

“Fufu, you see through everything, nii-san. Oh, please look over here: the Nannostomus beckfordi are spreading their fins.” [4]

“——Stop! Stop! No more of that talk!”

Reaching the limit of his patience, Moran stepped between the two brothers, yanking them out of their own world.

Their conversation interrupted, Louis looked puzzled. “What’s the matter, Mr Moran? I was just about to show him the Triple Red Apistogramma cacatuoides.”

“You guys are getting completely carried away, and leaving the rest of us behind! And what’s with those bloody names? This isn’t some university lecture!”

Beside him, Fred was pointing at the fish one by one, murmuring the names that had come up in the brothers’ exchange. Clearly, he was making sure he remembered their names properly.

Quizzical, Louis responded. “They might be troublesome for you…… But my brothers and I memorised them in one shot.”

“Y-You’re kidding, right?” Moran paled.

“They really are on another level……”

Astonished, Fred also stopped what he was doing.

Hailing from a noble family, Moran himself was an Oxford graduate; in addition, Fred also possessed an above-average intellect. But when confronted with the intellectual abilities of the three Moriarty brothers, who were able to memorise such complex names in just one go, the two men were unable to hide their amazement.

“I mean, wouldn’t it be easier to give them nicknames instead?”

At Moran’s suggestion, Louis put a hand under his chin.

“Nicknames, hmm…… I haven’t had any problems so far, but giving them simpler names might be a good idea.”

“Right? It’s insufferable to have to listen to those curse-like words every time I come here.”

“Let’s try it then. But I will be rejecting any distasteful ones,” Louis quipped.

Moran looked around the room, his gaze landing on a tank with a school of guppies swimming within.

“Alright….. Then how about we call these ‘Fred’?”

Behind his glasses, Louis’s eyes widened.

“We’re giving them our own names?”

“It’s fine, innit? It’s a lot better than calling them ‘Mr Guppies’ or something.”

“It’s certainly easy to say—— But even so, why call the guppies Fred?”

“Because they’re small and agile, aren’t they?” Moran grinned.

Fred shot him a dubious look. “Is your reasoning that simple……?”

That logic did seem a little problematic; William, who’d been watching from the side, made a troubled face.

“Since you’re adept at disguising yourself, Fred: if we were to name a fish after you, it should something like a leaffish that uses mimicry. Moreover, guppies already have a rather simple name, so I don’t think it’s necessary to give them another one.”

“It’ll be fine — it’s best to go with your gut for such things. Anyway, it’s decided then: the guppies will be called ‘Fred’.”

It seemed that for once, Moran was unwilling to listen to William’s words.

Then, another aquarium caught his eye. Fascinated, he gazed at the sole inhabitant within.

“Ooh, this guy has the tank all to himself, eh? I like that feeling of aloofness — this one’s gonna be called ‘Moran’.”

The fish Moran had just given his own name to, was in fact the tiny pufferfish that had to be isolated on the very first day, after attacking the other fish.

“Ah, about that one……”

Louis did want to explain why the pufferfish was all alone; but seeing how excited Moran was, he hesitated.

However, Moran seemed to have taken that pause in a different light.

“Oi oi, did you like this one too? Sorry, but it’s first come first served — so I get to name him.”

“R-Right. If you’re fine with that one, then……”

Moran looked like he was really enjoying himself, and so Louis decided to keep his silence on the truth about Moran’s new namesake.

Along with Louis, Fred had also witnessed what the pufferfish did on the day it arrived. It pained him a little to see Moran blissfully unaware of that, and he looked away.

Then, a certain tank caught his eye.

“These are quite like Mr William and his brothers.”

“Eh?”

Intrigued, William and Louis followed his gaze.

Dancing before their eyes was a group of beautiful fish with an almost divine air around them — ones that could even be called kings of the aquarium.

“——Angelfish?”

Within the tank, three angelfish were swimming in close formation. They had glittering silver scales, with black stripes running vertically down their sides. That closeness truly reminded one of the Moriarty brothers, bound to one another with firm ties.

Their name brought to mind angels, and William could not help but chuckle in self-mockery.

“I think that’s the last thing we should ever be called.”

“Not at all. In a way, you three are angels — but more of the ones who sound the trumpets in the Book of Revelation.” [5]

At that ironic turn of phrase, William let out another meaningful laugh.

Beside them, with a somewhat absent-minded look, Louis admired the fish he’d grown so familiar with.

“Though, just as Fred said, their elegant appearance certainly befits both William and Albert nii-sama.”

“No need to be modest, Louis: you are just as noble as they are.”

“T-Thank you very much, nii-san.”

Louis turned a little pink at that. Looking at the three fish swimming together, Moran nodded enthusiastically.

“Then starting from the front of the group, their names will be ‘William’, ‘Albert’ and ‘Louis’.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing……” William smiled bashfully.

Moran walked away from the tank. “Both Louis and Fred agree with it, so it’ll be fine. Anyway, I’ll be off.”

“Eh? What about the rest?”

Fred called out to him just as he was about to leave the room, and Moran ruffled his hair as he replied.

“Now that I think about it, there’re just way too many of them. We’ve already named five of them after ourselves — that should be fine for now.”

“I guess……”

Faced with Moran’s overly freewheeling attitude, Fred was lost for words.

“…………”

Under normal circumstances, Louis would saddle Moran with some chores at this point. But his attention was still drawn to the tank with the angelfish.

He had yet to notice it himself; but their three names, now conferred onto those fish, had set off tiny ripples in his heart.

Footnotes:

T/N: Yuumori is set in the early 1880s — you can read more about that here.

[1] Yes, Louis did just put his hand into a tank with a pufferfish 😥

[2] Edison’s first light bulb had been invented less than ten years prior, and this used a carbon filament — tungsten filaments would not be developed until the early 1900s. (Wikipedia)

[3] At this time in history, electricity really was the preserve of the rich and few — even in 1919, only 6% of UK households had electricity (Science Museum UK). Interestingly, AC (alternating current) power systems were starting to be adopted in the UK around this period. (Wikipedia)

Aside: The ‘artificial sun’ gave me flashbacks to the manga Letter Bee… (Wikipedia)

[4] This is a form of threatening behaviour between fish.

[5] Moran is referring to the seven angels that blow trumpets to bring about seven cataclysmic events, as described in the New Testament (Wikipedia). Seraph of the End fans would be familiar with this one :3

Translator’s notes

Louis’s honorifics

I know I used “Louis-san” in the manga scanlation, but I’m just going to go with my gut and use “Mr Louis” here :x

[s-talking]

// update!

hi  everyone ~  !  a  big  sorry  for  having  disappeared  so  suddenly.  i  got  unfortunately  hit  by  cov*d   &   so  did  everyone  else  in  my  house,  but  thankfully  we’ve  all  managed  to  recover;   just  took  much  longer  on  my  part  due  to  already  pre-existing  chronic  health  issues  mixing  in.  still,  i’m  well   &   sound,   &   feel  SUPER  damn  thankful  to  everyone  who  left  me  private  messages  during  my  absence  !   it  means  a  lot  to  me  to  know  that  i  was  thought  of  despite  not  being  here.  you  guys  are  honestly  wonderful.  i  mean  it.  i  consider  myself  very  lucky  to  have  you  as  my  friends   &   writing  partners  ♥

now,  i’m  planning  to  reply  to  everyone  individually  tomorrow  since  i  need  to  take  things  easy,  but  rest  assured  that  i’m  finally  returning.  in  fact,  after  re-adjusting  my  queue  a  little  ( since  some  blogs  got  sadly  deleted ),  i  will  do  what  i  promised  to  do  back  in  february   &   post  them  owed  starters / replies.   thank  you  again  for  your  kind  patience.  it’s  always  wonderful  to  be  back.  

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XVI

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XIII - - - - Part XIV - - - - Part XV

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Masters Aerdo, Koon and Nu lurched forward in distress as Obi-Wan unceremoniously slammed his mental walls into place.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He reassured them, smiling weakly and rubbing his temples.

“Cutting yourself off so abruptly from the force after a meditation that deep is dangerous,” Master Aerdo said, alarmed. “Please endeavor to be more gentle with yourself, Master Kenobi.”

“Of course, I simply thought it would be be best to allow for some, ah, uncertainty with my retreat to counteract my... necessary indiscretion.”

“Uncertainty!” Plo scolded. “If I hadn’t been in same room as you I might have thought you were dead!”

“Well, yes, that’s rather-”

Vokara Che burst through the door, followed closely by Bant Eerin.

“PLO KOON! WHAT IN THE GALACTIC CORE HAVE YOU DONE TO MY PATIENT!”

Master Koon took a step back, “Vokara, please-”

“I’m perfectly alright, Master Che,” Obi-Wan interjected, “Master Koon has helped me beyond what I can ever repay. I- Oh dear. You all have.” Obi-Wan looked around, guilt creeping into his voice. “Oh. OH. I am so sorry for what I must have put you all through. I- I assure you, it wasn’t what it looked like. Thank you so much for all you’ve done to save me from...well, my own foolishness, I suppose. Oh that must have been- I deeply apologize for the inconvenience I’ve caused.”

Master Che took a deep breath. “Your good health is repayment enough for whatever debt you feel you might owe. May I take your recent...reaching out to mean that you have begun to regain your sense of where and when you are and no longer feel the need for more...drastic means of escape? Alarming raising of shields notwithstanding?”

Obi-Wan winced. “I am...still confused on a number of points, I admit. But I’ve cleared up most of my important doubts. Its... 7957 by the Centralized Republic Calendar. I’m in the temple Halls of Healing on Couracant. Everyone in this room is a fellow member of Jedi Order.” Obi-Wan hastily wiped away a few tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

He cleared his throat as the five onlookers watched with a mixture of sympathy and confusion. “It’s going to be difficult, but I owe you all an explanation. Actually I need to explain a few things quite urgently, but first-”

His train of thought was interrupted by the roiling force presence that proceeded Mace Windu’s entrance. Mace paused at the foot of the bed, eyeing Obi-Wan critically as everyone else shuffled slightly out of the way to the edges of the increasingly crowded room. 

“Master Kenobi. You’re looking better.” He finally said.

“I’m feeling better. You really can’t imagine. I’m sure you have questions, but first I must insist- ow!” Obi-Wan jerked back, startled by the sudden rap of a gimer stick on the side of his head.

“Master Yoda!” Che and Aerdo scolded as the Grandmaster suddenly appeared on the nightstand to get a better look at his troublesome great-grand padawan.

 Vokara actually grabbed the wizened elder with both hands, lifting him by the armpits and chastising him like a misbehaving youngling. “That is not an appropriate greeting for any of my patients. Shame on you.”

“Patients, hmm? Shame, shame indeed.” Yoda muttered, dangling in the air. “Gone, my patience is. For making us think he had joined the force too early, shame indeed on Obi-Wan.” 

Obi-Wan bowed his head. “My apologies, grandmaster. I had strong reason to believe that I was trapped in a hallucination. I will explain everything but first we really need to comm-”

“Your suicide attempt, I was not referring to, no. Do such a thing in your right mind, I know you would never. Concerned, we were, of course. Halfway fake your own death, the first thing you did was, after all this! The reason I am hitting you, that is! Too old for this, I am!” 

“I understand, and I had reason for retreating so suddenly. Which I will be happy to explain. But first we really need to do damage control and contact-”

- - - - -

“ANAKIN! Anakin, what’s wrong!” Padme shook her husband’s shoulders as he knelt, collapsed on the floor.

“It’s- Obi-Wan” he choked out. “He was here! He was awake and alive and then he just- stopped.” 

“Oh force. You don’t mean he’s-”

“I don’t know. I can’t sense him. I don’t know.”

“Go. And when you find him, please comm me to let me know if-”

But Anakin was already gone.

- - - - -

"Oh...hm.” Master Tiin shuddered slightly.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” Captain Rex asked.

“Does this have something to do with General Kenobi’s illness?” Boil called out anxiously. A low murmur rippled through the mixed meeting of high-level strategic and logistical officers. 

“His- force presence grew rather strong for a moment. I would have to contact the temple to-”

“He’s dead.”

“Master Krell!” Saesee Tiin chided as the room recoiled in horror. “We don’t know that.”

General Tiin addressed the anxious room, “His force presence did cut out abruptly, but there are a number of explanations for such a thing, and jumping to the worst case scenario prematurely does us no favors.”

“Perhaps we should pause the briefing while you contact the Temple, sir.” Commander Cody offered stiffly.

“Out of line, Clone.” General Krell said, sneering. “Regardless of the status of your former General, we depart at 22:00 hours this evening. This briefing will continue. Interrupt with such a meaningless and insubordinate suggestion again and I will have you put on review for decommissioning.”

“Yes, sir.” Cody replied.

“That’s enough, Master Krell. I realize tensions are running high but please control yourself.” Tiin sighed. “We do need to finish this planning session. I apologize for the disruption, everyone. Now if you will all turn your attention back to map 3a of the Ghost Nebula...”

Command training included modules on compartmentalizing unhelpful emotional responses in order to focus on tactical information, so that’s what Cody did.

- - - - -

“If you have some Sith-related intel to divulge, I think it might be more appropriate to contact the rest of the council first, Master Kenobi,” Mundi said, discarded fluid drip awkwardly jabbing him in the side . 

“I agree, but trust me, first, someone really needs to tell Anakin I’m not dead. If you don’t want to do it, I will,” Obi-Wan announced, trying to get up. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Bant snapped, pushing him back into bed.

“I- Oh Bant, It’s- some things are fuzzy, but you were one of the medi staff who came to my quarters after I...”

Bant glared in answer. 

“I am so sorry, again I-” 

“Obi-Wan, try not to worry too much about apologies right now. The important thing is you have people who care about you and we are all pleased by your renewed vigor for life.” Healer Aerdo interrupted, maintaining a death grip on Yoda while Che fussed over Obi-Wan’s vital readings. 

“I’ve commed Skywalker but if he’s acting as I suspect, he’s not checking messages” Master Windu said from his place in the corner.

- - - - - 

A Chiss Padawan leaned over to whisper to her Master as the mental flow halted unceremoniously. “Master, you don’t think...”

“Is something wrong, young one?” Chancellor Palpatine called out, smiling warmly at the young apprentice and drawing all eyes in the sub-committee meeting to the cloaked pair standing watch at the door.

“Ah, no, Supreme Chancellor, thank you for your concern. We simply observed a minor disruption in the force,” Her Tholothian Master replied smoothly as the padawan attempted not to fidget. “I’m sure the Council will contact us if it’s anything worth reporting to the Senate.” 

The meeting continued but more than a few senators spent the remainder of the session discretely swapping messages speculating on what could have ruffled the usually silent and stoic guardians. 

- - - - -

Shouted curses and wailing speeder horns followed Anakin as he raced to the temple. 

I swear to all the gods if he’s alive i’ll never kill anyone ever again I should have been there was no warning in the force please help me if he’s dead i’m going to kill everyone on this planet except Padme and then im going to kill Dooku and Grevious and then

- - - - -

“Master Fisto!” Ashoka said, turning anxiously to the Natuolan Master as Obi-Wan’s presence evaporated. “Do you think Master Kenobi is alright?”

“We’re quite a distance away,” Kit replied soothingly. “There’s a very good chance he simply had to withdraw because he was overreaching himself to say hello.” 

Ashoka frowned. “Can we contact the temple to make sure? Please?”

“I’ll send a comm, but we might not get a reply right away. We’re only a few hours out from the planet, so you’ll be able to check in on him yourself soon, alright?”

“Yes, Master.”

- - - - -

“Ah...perhaps we should shift into another room? This one is a little small for the...full Jedi Council. And I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to change out of these patients robes and into something a little more appropriate”

“You’re not going anywhere or changing into anything until I clear you.” Che snapped, elbowing Koth out of the way to jab Obi-Wan with another device.

“If one of the high council is unable to leave this room, than the high council is more than willing to meet here.” Master Gallia said calmly from her perch at the foot of the bed.  

“Well I’m not leaving.” Master Nu announced. “I still haven’t gotten the full explanation Plo promised.”

“As a healer-”

- - - - -

Klicks apart from one another, Sith Assassin Ventress and Knight Vos unknowingly shared identical frowns as Quinlan softly gave voice to what they were both thinking,

“What the fuck, Kenobi.”

- - - - - 

“WATCH OUT!”

“Kriff!”

“...Was that Anakin Skywalker? Did The Hero With No Fear just cut us off?”

“Must be some serious business for him to be flying like that.”

- - - - - 

Count Dooku redirected the Invisible Hand; his plans for Kiros would simply have to wait. Sidious might prefer the Umbaran seige to be a long, protracted affair rather than a decisive win one way or another, but if Tyrannus’s suspicions were correct, than the time for kowtowing to the Sith Master might be near its end. Sidious had long underestimated his Grandpadawan. He suspected that whatever play was going on was less the act of a new player and more the opening move of an experience one now shifting his attention to another arena. 

The ‘attack’ was likely a deliberate ruse to allow Kenobi to slip into the shadows and finally begin addressing the hint he had provided on Genosis long ago. Now, more than ever, Dooku needed to manage Separatist affairs strategically. Kenobi’s search into the force and subsequent rapid withdraw was too deliberate to be anything but the first steps of a larger plot. 

- - - - -

“Ah, Master Mundi?” A young apprentice healer asked the Cerean Master guarding the entranceway to the wing. “There’s a small crowd gathering outside. All very orderly, of course. But they want to know Master Kenobi’s Status. What should I tell them?”

Mundi Sighed. “If they ask, tell them Master Kenobi’s wellbeing is protected under healer client confidentiality and the highest security clearance.” 

Ki-Adi paused. “If Anakin Skywalker, arrives, just- send him this way, as you would a Council Member, understood? Don’t try and stop him.” he added begrudgingly.

“I see.” the padawan replied with impressive professional calm, "Thank you, Master Mundi” She bowed and returned to the front.

- - - - -

Maul staggered out of his cave. Kenobi was taunting him now. Kenobi would pay. Kenobi would see. Kenobi couldn’t die before Maul killed him.

- - - - -

A gap opened in the somber crowd as Anakin sprinted through, heart in his throat.

He should have been here there was no warning he should have been there

“Skywalker!” Mundi barked. “Calm yourself!”

Anakin stared at him with wild eyes and the High Master faltered, frightened for a moment. Before Anakin could say or do anything to the council member, Master Windu appeared. “Over here.”

Anakin blurred past him, mind tormenting him with images of nooses and blood and broken bodies and incomplete-

“Hello there, Anakin.” Obi-Wan sat upright in bed, smiling at him and surrounded by far too many Master’s for anyone’s comfort. Least of all the Masters, now that Mundi and Windu were forcing their back in. 

Anakin took in a strangled gasp, “Obi-Wan- you- i thought you were dead.”

Obi-Wan’s welcoming smile faltered. “Oh Anakin, I’ve really put you through a terrible ordeal the last few days, haven’t I? I am so, so sorry- I- I promise I didn’t intend to leave you like that. Come here, I’ll- its going to sound quite impossible but I can explain everything. There’s so much I have to tell everyone-”

Anakin threw himself forward, ignoring Jedi dignity and who he was knocking over.

He heard a tut of disapproval behind him as he embraced his Master. 

“Oh be quiet” Master Koon chided someone. “Honestly, he’s padawan age, have some compassion.”

Anakin decided to ignore that in favor of crying over Obi-Wan for the fourth time in as many days, utterly exhausted. 

Obi-Wan hesitated for a bare moment before wrapping his arms around his brother and friend for the first time in years (at least for the first time where he was aware that it was real and oh force he was really going to have to meditate to fully understand what he had said and done and what everyone had said in response).

“Perhaps we should give them a moment to collect themselves.” Master Aerdo offered diplomatically. Having largely reached their threshold for open displays of emotion, the Council non-verbally came to an agreement.

“You two have five minutes to pull yourselves together,” Master Windu said severely. 

“Of course, Master Windu. Thank you.” Obi-Wan rasped.

The group shuffled out with remarkable good grace, considering the number of inhabitants in the room, or rather remarkable bad grace, considering they were all supposed to be Jedi Masters.

Plo Koon patted them both on the shoulders before filing out. Master Yoda leapt nimbly out of Bant’s arms to land on the nightstand. He rapped them each lightly on the head before darting out with a chuckle. The door clicked shut.

“Master- I- never do that again.”

“I’m sorry Anakin, I promise, I wasn’t trying to die, I have far, far too much to live for. I’m never going to leave you again, I don’t care what else happens but- I’m not going to abandon you ever again, do you understand. Even if I die, I’ll come back and haunt you for the rest of your life, you’ll barely notice the difference, I swear.”

“...Thank you, but please stop talking now”

“Right, of course. I’m sorry. I’m so, so-”

“I love you, Obi-Wan.”

“...I love you too, Anakin.”

Part XVII