#Edit: the final chapter is almost done. I drew this as a comfort before All That lol so. Enjoy

[hajihiko]

Nice night 🌘

[imaginespazzi]

Part 5: One Perfect Day

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)

(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff

Words: 7.5K

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!

March 2019 

The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great. 

For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers. 

“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”

Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”

One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself. 

As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing. 

“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”

“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl. 

“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”

Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have. 

“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material. 

“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”

Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”

“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?” 

“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”

She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe. 

“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”

“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish. 

Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”

“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins. 

“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s,  “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”

***

It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.

“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe. 

“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”

“You’re so fucking mean to me.”

“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”

“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”

Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”

“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi. 

“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes. 

“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”

“Paige.”

“Azziiiiii.”

“Paige I’m tired.”

“Pleeeeeaseeee.”

The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”

“YES-”

“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”

Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance,  “with that attitude, I should drop you.”

“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso.  She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.

“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”

Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”

“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl. 

When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi. 

As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.

“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”

That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s. 

“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling. 

Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”

Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive. 

“So it’s definitely UConn then?” 

“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it. 

“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers. 

“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms. 

“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway. 

Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”

“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”

“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”

“Yeah but-”

“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken. 

“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”

Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”

“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.  

When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more. 

That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti. 

***

April 2024

There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment. 

Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since. 

The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways. 

The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship. 

For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter. 

Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then- 

When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti. 

Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s. 

As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway. 

“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.

Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her. 

“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”

Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness. 

***

“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”

Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind? 

Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace. 

“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up. 

“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”

Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”

Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly. 

“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face. 

“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.

“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment. 

“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”

“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”

“Paige-”

The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”

“I know- I’m sorr-”

“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”

They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-

Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own. 

The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her. 

“We can’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”

“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly. 

“Paige please-”

“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”

Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”

“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”

“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”

Paige kisses her again. 

***

The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.

She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q. 

Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes. 

The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team. 

Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian. 

Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance. 

But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her. 

“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words. 

Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl. 

“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow. 

“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”

The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything. 

“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”

“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend. 

Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble. 

“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”

Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth. 

Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except- 

“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock. 

“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs. 

“It’s the truth.”

“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”

“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her. 

“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all. 

“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out. 

“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”

Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring. 

“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game, 

Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”

“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”

The other girls “ooh”, knowing  Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until- 

“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”

“How many times?” Nika prods

“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”

“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t. 

“Only once,” she answers. 

“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her. 

“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. 

Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”

Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear. 

“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”

“Paige-”

“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly. 

Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls. 

“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates. 

“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.

“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases. 

“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family. 

It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say. 

They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead. 

“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”

“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”

“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly. 

“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”

Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”

“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray. 

“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”

“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”

Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”

Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely. 

“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”

Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady. 

Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.

She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her. 

“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off. 

“No. Go hug someone else.”

“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to. 

“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”

Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”

“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”

“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”

“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately. 

Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”

“What-”

“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”

“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”

Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”

“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”

She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”

“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”

They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship. 

“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly. 

“To what?”

“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”

Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”

Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together. 

“Do you know what my answer would have been?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together. 

***

Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed. 

“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”

“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”

“Az-”

“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”

“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath. 

“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”

“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle. 

“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”

Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears. 

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it. 

Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”

And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her. 

[animasola86]

The Darkness Within (Smut Edition) - Light

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc x Tom Riddle

Summary: When Genevieve dies at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, Sebastian is driven mad with grief and sees only one way out of it: he has to bring her back, no matter what. He goes down the darkest path imaginable and in the end, it works, but not as he imagined - as he is suddenly transported to 62 years into the future. As is the love of his life. Until they finally meet again, both of them go down the opposite ends of the moral meter: one becomes an Auror and the other is charmed and influenced by none other than Tom Riddle, who is on the verge of gathering more and more people for his cause. Will they be able to rekindle their love, now that they are mortal enemies?

Genre: Angst/Smut/Dark!Romance

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Auror vs Death Eater. Manipulation. Fluff.

Read more on AO3

If you're here for some smut+, please keep reading. If you like to know how they ended up like this, please read the previous chapters right here.

Excerpt of Chapter 7:

Why did she forget?

Her head started hurting as she kept screwing up her eyes, thinking hard. It didn't matter, did it? Tom's voice echoed inside her head. It doesn't matter, he had said. And he was right, of course he was. She should just get rid of this Auror and be done with it. But somehow she couldn't. Something drew her towards him, she couldn't help it. She started breathing heavier and shook her head, slowly walking towards the bed, sitting down and groaning loudly as she buried her face in her hands.

“Genevieve,” she heard his soft voice. “Genevieve, please. Let me help you.”

“How could you possibly help me?” she muttered into her palms.

“I could hold you, I could be there for you. You are not alone in this. I don't belong in this timeline either.” His voice was soothing and warm and she started to really like to hear him talk. As for what he said, she remained doubtful.

For one, she didn't need help. She had been fine these last years, she had enjoyed her life and the place and the purpose Tom Riddle had given her. It had filled her up completely. But then came this man, and from the shadows from which he had watched her he had lodged himself into her thoughts and was trying to claw himself into her heart as well, with his memories and his sad eyes and his deep voice. Telling her about a former life, a former love.

She breathed deeply and lowered her hands, slowly looking back to him. When she reached into her pocket and drew her wand, she saw him flinch a little. Her eyes lingered on him for another moment, before she looked at the rope wrapped around his chest. “Finite,” she whispered and watched how the ropes disappeared.

“Go then, report me, add me to your list,” she muttered, twirling her wand between her fingers, staring at it as if it might hold all the answers. “Do whatever you have to do. I don't care any more.”

She heard him get up from the chair and listened, but instead of him putting his clothes back on or straight up leaving through the door, he took two steps towards her and in the next moment he had pulled her to her feet and pressed her against his naked chest, holding her tightly. She gasped against him.

“What are you doing?” she breathed almost soundlessly.

“What I have to do,” he replied quietly, pulling her even closer by holding the back of her head with one hand and her lower back with the other.

His touches were warm and reassuring and she couldn't help but lean into them. She could feel his love radiating from him like heat from an open fire. He was so sure about his feelings for her, even after she had trampled it with her boots and her darkness. And she wished with all she had left that she could feel the same way. She wanted to love so badly.

She realized that was one thing she had missed those last seven years. Tom had been there for her, sure, accepting and comforting, but he never loved her the way she thought she had loved him. And perhaps it wasn't love, but gratitude she had felt towards him, perhaps a little crush because of his attention, but it hadn't been love. Tom Riddle couldn't love, she knew that somehow.

And suddenly she knew: she had loved before. Really loved, unconditionally loved someone, with all her heart, with all her being, with her entire soul. She must have, otherwise why was she longing for a feeling she had never experienced before? Why was she craving the touches of another man, a man she had only met today even, how was any of this possible if not for love? A long forgotten love...

She took a shuddering breath and placed her hands against his chest, gently pushing him away to look up at him. He was so freakishly tall compared to her. His eyes met hers and she looked long and hard at him, forcing the memories to come back. But of course that didn't work. Yet she was willing to try harder.

While her heart started to beat a little faster inside her chest, she kept pushing him backwards until he was sitting in the chair again. He raised an eyebrow at her, but neither complained nor protested. “No more ropes, please.” was all he said with a quiet chuckle.

She smiled at him and shook her head. “Don't worry. I want you to use your hands,” she replied in a low voice and started unclasping her cloak. It quickly joined his clothes on the floor and when she started unbuttoning her blouse, he suddenly stood up and walked towards her with helping hands. “No, not yet! Please, just sit and enjoy the show, alright?” she smirked and he complied, watching her with a curious little smile.

When she pulled the last button from its loop, she inhaled deeply and let her chest open her blouse for her, revealing the tight corset-type bodice she was wearing beneath. Her index finger ran all the way from the top down the long row of hooks until the stiff fabric met her belt, and she smirked pleasantly when she noticed his eyes following the movement. Slowly she started to undo the hooks (rather happy about the fact that fashion had gotten more convenient over the years, no more lacing and far less layers) and then she shook her hips slightly and the sleeveless corset simply slid down her curves and fell to the ground behind her, leaving her chest and stomach bare and unconstrained.

She decided to leave the black satin blouse on, for one she liked the feeling of the soft fabric on her skin, also she really didn't want him to see her left forearm. There would be a time and place for that revelation, but it wasn't now.

Walking closer to him, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him gently against the back of the chair, before she sat down on his lap and watched him closely. His eyes couldn't decide between staring at her face and down at her newly exposed breasts and she smiled when she saw the little red splotches on his cheeks. “You can touch them, if you want,” she whispered and licked her lips. He looked at her, his eyes asking if it really was okay, and when she nodded, he raised a hand and gently closed his large palm around one of her breasts, firmly squeezing them.

“You've grown so much,” he muttered a little breathlessly and she laughed. “In all the right places anyway.” She laughed even more at that.

She watched him with a warm smile as he kept fondling her breasts, cupping them gently to groping them a little harder, his fingers grazing her soft skin and teasing the little buds peaking up ever so slightly. He was surprisingly kind in his movements, despite the hungry look inside his brown eyes. She let him continue his exploration of her chest a little longer, sighing deeply at his touches, before she grabbed his chin and made him look at her.

When she let her tongue slide gingerly over her lower lip as she stared at him, she noticed his eyes wandering towards her mouth, and without another word, they both leaned in at the same time and met in a passionate kiss. His hands moved up to her face and his long fingers dug into her hair, while his thumbs caressed her cheeks as he deepened the kiss by firmly pushing his tongue into her mouth. She mirrored his movements, forcing her jaw against his, really fighting for dominance over who could explore the other's mouth first.

Her hands found his messy hair and she grabbed it almost forcefully as he groaned into her mouth. While still glued to his lips, held by his hands, she sat up in a weird crouch and put her legs on either side of him, straddling him to get even closer. Her chest pushed against his and she really leaned into the kiss, feeling light-headed and eager for more at the same time. Her heart was accelerating fast and she couldn't help but feel very, very pleased with herself and the world around her.

He certainly had a way of making a girl feel special.

And she wished even more she could remember him. Sighing breathlessly against him, her arms lazily crossed behind his head as she leaned against him and into the kiss, a sudden warmth crossed her heart and this whole situation felt weirdly familiar, like a déjà-vu. Was it because she wanted to remember it or did she actually remember something like this? She didn't know and she didn't concern herself too much with it, instead she kissed him more and deeper and let her mind wander, as she focused on the urges of her body.

When his hands grabbed her waist and kneaded her skin gently, she leaned back slightly, trying to catch her breath as her lips hovered above his, her eyes meeting his in a heated gaze. “Want to take this somewhere else?” she whispered sultry, her voice a little hoarse.

He smiled widely at her and suddenly he stood, grabbing her rear in the process, lifting her up easily as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and she laughed and felt like a teenager again, far away from the worries of the world. His mouth found her neck as he carried her towards the bed and gently sat her down on the edge. There she sat, her legs trembling a little under the anticipation, and watched him closely. His hands found her thighs and as he knelt down in front of her, he squeezed them lightly, then pushed her legs apart.

Her trousers felt even tighter than they already were and she couldn't wait to be freed of them. But he wouldn't help her with that just yet. Instead his hands slid up and down her thighs, his long fingers grazing the outer edge, while his thumbs caressed the more sensitive inner side. She leaned back on her arms and watched him, her chest rising and falling faster. His eyes were on her face the entire time and she blushed slightly under the intense desire in his gaze.

He smiled softly and his hands moved upwards, until his thumbs gently pressed against her centre. She felt the blood pumping violently against the tightness of her trousers, her middle positively aflame already. He breathed harder when he started moving his index finger up and down the tight fabric, pushing it firmly against her, activating all the nerves waiting to be stimulated beneath. She let out a soft moan and arched her head back, closing her eyes in the process.

He rubbed her for a moment longer, while one of his hands moved up to her belt. With quick, capable fingers he unbuckled it, then started to unbutton her trousers. As she leaned against his touch, slightly grinding her hips against the firm pressure of his finger, his now free hand moved up and closed around her right breast, squeezing it demandingly. She exhaled loudly and looked at him, biting her lip. He looked right back, his gaze dark and intense.

As if communicating without words, he then grabbed her waist firmly with both hands and in the next moment, as she lifted her body up a little, he pushed her trousers off her hips and down her legs, his hands following the curve of her body. As the fabric gathered around her shins, he looked down and chuckled deeply. “Should have thought about the boots,” she heard him mutter and she laughed lightly. He quickly unlaced her leather boots and threw them through the room once he had pulled them off, then continued removing her trousers.

And then she sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but her satin blouse covering her shoulders and arms. He looked at her, still crouched in front of her, and raised an eyebrow. “No panties, huh?” he commented and she smiled slyly, slowly crossing her legs and leaning them away from him. “Oh, no need to be modest now, darling,” he smirked and gently, but firmly grabbed her thighs, loosening them and pulling them apart again as he stood up and leaned over her. One of his hands found her face and he pulled her towards him for a quick, but heated kiss, leaving her breathlessly and wanting more.

“Say, you told me we were close, real close, right?” she asked quietly as he leaned back again and watched her curiously. “Have we...” She didn't have to finish the question and he nodded softly. “We have.” She looked at him and felt a little overwhelmed by all the sensations coursing through her body, mostly by how her heart fluttered with him so close. “Can you talk me through our... first time?” she then asked in a whisper and he frowned a little at that, but then smiled warmly. “Of course,” he said and sat down next to her on the bed.

His arm wrapped around her shoulder as he pulled her against his side and she cradled against him as if she really belonged there. It certainly felt like it. Her body fit perfectly against his. She looked up. “Well, needless to say we were very nervous. Both of us had never done it before,” he said in a low tone, his voice vibrating through her body as he spoke. She absorbed every word. “But I knew you trusted me and vice versa and then we just... started touching each other.” He laughed a little nervously and she smiled at the innocent sound.

“Like how?” she pressed and bit her lip.

“Like this...” he replied and his hand moved down her stomach between her legs.

He didn't hesitate at all when he cupped his entire palm around her warm centre, his long fingers grazing her soft folds and his thumb gently stroking the blush of hair above it. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, leaning against him. He continued touching her most sensitive area, his hand moving up and down slowly, gently pressing and squeezing and rubbing. She felt her warmth pooling just behind his touch and when he started moving individual fingers through her folds, she heard just how warm and wet she was down there from the almost vulgar noises his movements caused. A moan escaped her and she had to snake her arm around his waist to hold onto him, her fingernails digging into his firm skin.

He turned his head and kissed her cheek, distracting her from the fact that he started to press his fingertips firmly against her entrance. She looked up and kissed him back, then her lips found his and while she pressed her tongue into his mouth, he pressed one finger into her. She moaned loudly against him as he moved his digit deeper and deeper, curling it slightly as he moved his hand down to angle it better against her. While he did that, she could feel his thumb moving around the little bundle of nerves inches away from where his finger was exploring her insides, and when he pressed against it firmly, she actually flinched and squeaked against his mouth.

She had already been so worked up that a single touch had been enough to make her heart jump against her chest at the sensation. He rubbed her quicker and she breathed against him heavily, her free hand clawing at the bed sheets beside her. He slipped another finger inside her and kept a steady pace of moving his digits in and out of her, gently stretching her as he did so. She moaned against him and kissed him breathlessly, holding onto him helplessly as he worked her centre.

Just before she felt her insides convulsing slightly, as the first wave of pleasure came crashing down on her hard, he retrieved his fingers and even let go of her as he slipped off the bed and knelt down between her legs. She stared at him restlessly, her chest rising and falling fast as she watched him. His eyes darted up and the intensity of his gaze made her blush deeply. He looked about ready to devour her. And when he did, she fell flat on her back and kicked her legs around him. His face was pressed tightly to her centre, his mouth glued to the bundle of nerves, his tongue licking and sucking on the sensitive skin, pushing up folds and really going down on her nub as if there was nothing else in the world.

She moaned loudly as he slipped his fingers back inside, going from one straight to three this time, and he pumped his hand back and forth, in and out, in a steady, fast rhythm, the new angle causing her to shiver deeply as moan after moan slipped from her open mouth. Her hands felt around helplessly and one found the top of his head and she forcefully grabbed his hair, pushing him down even further as she rocked her hips against him. Stars danced behind her eyelids as she pressed herself into the mattress, her legs trembling against his shoulders, her toes curling up violently.

The high came like a herd of trampling horses, like the screeching of a boiling tea kettle, like a flock of crows dispersing into the night with a frantic flutter. His mouth was hot on her skin and his fingers worked tirelessly against her and she felt him spreading them inside, stretching her walls as her orgasm clenched them around him. She was still riding the high, her hips grinding slowly, her hands falling loosely to her sides, her whole body twitching in pleasure, when his touches suddenly disappeared.

Before she could question his loss, she heard the rustle of fabric and then he was leaning over her, his face so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her lips, and when she lazily opened an eye, she saw him smiling. The next moment he had pushed himself deeply into her still convulsing channel and she moaned loudly at the sensation. Her hands found his back and she dug her fingernails into his skin as he positioned himself above her, leaning on his arms as he kept moving his hips against her, slow at first, really slow as he slid really deep, with her walls still contracting around him, before he fell into a steady rhythm and every thrust caused her to groan deeply.

His own rapid breaths hit her cheek as she turned her face to the side, trying to breathe through the sensations, with her heart drumming against her ribcage and her entire body tensed and relaxed at the same time. It was a constant up and down between the tiniest of pains as he drove himself really deep and fast into her, and the biggest of pleasures when he moved away again. She somehow found the strength to lift her legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, the movement causing him to slip even further in as she pressed him tighter against her.

His deep moan echoed inside her head, and she opened her eyes and looked at him and was surprised and a little shocked to see him watching her closely, his brown eyes half-lidded, but never leaving her face. His lips were parted and he was really working all the muscles in his body. She relaxed her grip on his shoulders and gently snaked her arms back to place her hands around his face, pulling him closer to her for a passionate kiss. Soon they just pressed their foreheads together and breathed loudly against each other as their steady rhythm made the headboard of the bed slam against the wall behind it.

When she felt the next wave of pleasure approaching (or was it still the first one and she kept on riding it? She didn't know and she didn't care...), she held onto his neck and moaned into his mouth, rocking her hips up against him quickly, crossing her feet behind his back to keep him in place. She felt the pleasure spread from where their bodies were tightly connected, her walls convulsing almost painfully around him, her breaths erratic, barely sounding human at this point any more. She held onto him and when she reached the peak, she let out a deep, soft scream, arching her back into the mattress, pulling his upper body forcefully against hers, his weight only adding to the sensation as he fell on top of her.

Their lower bodies continued their rhythm, as his hands found the sides of her face and he gently caressed her cheeks, despite the rapid motion of his hips. She leaned up and kissed him deeply, savouring every little touch and taste of him. When her heart had slowed down enough for her to be able to move a little more again, she looked into his eyes and smirked, then, with a swift sideways motion, she used the weight of his body to roll around on the bed until his back was pressed to the mattress and she sat up on top of him, his length driving up into her with yet another painful, yet blissful sensation.

She leaned her head back and her long hair fell over her shoulders as she issued a loud moan, her knees firmly placed on either side of his waist as she started to move up and down slowly, her breasts bouncing slightly with every movement. She watched him closely as he stared at her out of dark, lustful eyes. His hands found her hips and he kneaded the soft flesh firmly as he helped her move against him. The more she was grinding against him, the more familiar this whole encounter felt. Eerily familiar. As if they had never done anything else. She smiled at the thought and tried to imagine the teenagers they used to be, exploring each other's body at any given moment.

Her hands moved up his chest and she felt the way the muscles tensed inside his abdomen as he worked his hips against her, and she felt his rapid heartbeat as she pressed her palms onto his skin, and when she closed a hand around his throat she felt him swallowing hard against the sensation. Her fingers tightened around his neck and she looked at him hungrily and he looked back just as ravenously as he licked his lips and bared his teeth to her when she squeezed his throat. She smiled darkly and when his breath halted, she felt his arms loosen their grip on her hip, but instead of gasping for air, he suddenly sat up and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, her elbows pressed against his chest as he started pumping up into her forcefully.

She quickly melted into the sensation and couldn't do anything but moan, her fingers helplessly grazing the skin of his neck as he held her close, working through his last remaining strength frantically as his own moans became louder around her. He was close, she could tell, and she tried her best to help get to where she had been a couple of times now. Their hips moved rapidly against each other, every thrust causing her to whimper and moan, her vision blurry from all the air that went out but not in. He groaned deeply as he pressed his body against hers, his arms in a deadlock around her, his motions became frantic and devilishly fast – and then a shudder broke from the middle of his body and he halted abruptly, and she felt him twitch within her, his warmth quickly spreading inside of her, filling her up completely.

He slowly resumed his pumping motion, his head resting on her shoulder as he did so, as both their bodies shivered through the sensations. His breath was hot and erratic and she moved her hands around him and gently stroked his back in soothing circles, leaning against him, savouring the last moments before they eventually had to come down from their highs again. His movements slowed and she heard him sigh deeply, then his lips were pressed against her shoulder. And then he just slumped backwards, falling onto the bed with a heavy thud, and as she was still holding him, she fell with him and laughed softly as she rocked against him one more time.

They remained lying like this for a long moment, while her midst was still twitching viciously and his length was still warm within her. Her legs felt a little numb. His hands wandered up her body then and firmly grabbed onto her rear, gently kneading the soft flesh, his long fingers pulling her cheeks apart slightly as they did so. She chuckled at his inability to just relax and leaned up a little to look at him. He was watching her out of tired, half-lidded eyes and when she smiled at him with her cheeks blushed deeply, he smirked back at her.

She leaned down to kiss him softly, her lips slowly moving from his cheeks to his jawline and over to his earlobe. There she planted a couple of small kisses and then whispered: “Thank you for this, Sebastian.”

He stopped his kneading of her rear and froze. “Did you remember?”

She inhaled deeply, kissed his earlobe again and nuzzled her nose against his hair. “No,” she then said honestly, feeling his sigh long before she heard it. “But I wish I would. I am clearly missing out on more of this...”

He laughed quietly at her answer and she knew he was disappointed, but when he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closely, she felt like he started to accept it.

(Read more on AO3)

Another little excerpt (Chapter 6) can be found here.

Pictures credit: @sebswebs (Sebastian) @the-slytherin-paramour (Sebastian) @esolean (Tom) @zimmerfarn (redhead)

Notes:

I had a little chat with @seabass-swallows Auror Sebastian chat bot and he inspired me to write this story. Thank you for tickling my creative juices!

With one eye closed you could also see this as the (possible) sequel to my very slow-burn, fluffy, tame af HL re-write story Diary of a Snake Lover (this fic does reference some parts of it).

[lipstickstainedred]

Champagne 1 🥂 (dark!Steve X Reader)

So this is my first time writing in a super long time and I’m so excited for people to hopefully read it haha. This is going to be a series and it is a total slow burn. Lots of angst and there will be eventual smut. I’ll try to add warnings for each chapter just because as I write this story more warnings may need to be added.

I want to give a shout out to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for being just an amazing human. Thanks for helping me work through some ideas for this series and helping me make necessary edits.

 This work also will eventually qualify for the @basementwiveswritingchallenge.

If you would like to be added to the taglist please just drop me an ask. :)

Word count: 1318

Warnings: angst, DUB-CON/NON-CON (eventual), smut (eventual) NSFW (eventual), violence (eventual), kidnapping (eventual)

A few months ago you started a new job as an assistant rep for a marketing and advertising company. This was your first REAL job! Of course, you had had other jobs but nothing like this. Prior to this job you had worked as the occasional babysitter, worked at coffee shops, or grocery stores. Nothing of substance or promise, until now. You had almost cried when you had gotten the job, having little to no experience.

You didn’t grow up privileged but you were always taught that if you kept your head down and worked hard, you could create a better future for yourself. And that’s what you had done, despite being in and out of foster homes for the better part of 10 years, you kept your head down, got decent grades in school, did well at your previous jobs, and was even able to pay for some business and marketing classes down at the local community college.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Your blouse and skirt unrealistically tight against your slightly sweaty skin. The outfit fit you correctly but your nerves made it feel uncomfortably snug. This was the first time you’ve worn some of your new work clothes.

“I apologize for the wait, they are ready for you now.” The busty blonde assistant said approaching your boss and snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your boss, Phil,  glanced over at you and the couple other coworkers present for the pitch meeting. It was a huge deal for your company. Stark Industries was a multimillion conglomerate and if this ad proposal went well, all advertising and marketing jobs would be contracted through your company exclusively. It would be a big account and make your boss and your boss’s boss a pretty penny.

All of your team gathered the materials needed for the pitch. You followed closely behind Phil with your notebook and pen in hand. Since you were new, barely having your foot in the door of the marketing worlds, you were a glorified note taker at the moment.

“Right in here.” The assistant ushered your boss and you into the elegant conference room as the rest of your team followed. As you walked into the room, you stumbled nearly tripping over your heels. Stupid uncomfortable shoes.

You straightened back up and readjusted your skirt that had ridden up a tiny bit. Feeling eyes on you, you glanced around the room of lawyers, accountants, and assistants. Seated at the other end of the long conference table was none other than Tony Stark himself! You had no idea that your team's meeting was important enough for Mr. Stark to actually attend.

You still felt someone watching you, someone unseen. Your eyes fell on the man seated next to Stark; Captain America. Your breath caught as you realised he was staring directly at you. You catch the slight smirk on his lips. He must have been the only person to see you trip.

Everyone else was looking through paperwork and making casual introductions.

Your breath hitched as Steve Rogers’ eyes took you in,  traveling up and down your body, before meeting your gaze. You averted your eyes away from his turning toward your boss to help him set up the presentation.

🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂

As Phil and some coworkers pitched their plan, you took notes of any important details your boss would want to review over later. Occasionally, you felt someone’s eyes burning holes straight through you.

You tried to ignore it but against your better judgment you glanced up to find the same blue eyes looking you over. It was extremely unsettling and for the second time today you wished you were wearing something more comfortable, something less tight.

“I like you people!” Tony exclaimed, as the meeting drew to an end. Standing from his chair he continued, “The ideas you pitched are innovation and exciting, I like it. Just give us a few moments to discuss, and we’ll let you know our thoughts.”

Instead of asking your team to leave the room, Tony and Steve along with what you would guess to be a couple of lawyers and accountants just spoke in semi-hushed tones huddled on their side of the conference room. Your team gathered their things with their eyes elsewhere, as to give them privacy.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the first avenger. His eyes flickered over to you as he spoke with Stark, diverting your gaze as your cheeks warmed.

As if on cue, Tony stole a glance your way, as if Steve had said something about you. Realizing staring at these two men was a bad idea, you joined in the conversation your boss and coworker were having beside you.

“Well, we are all set.” Tony stood up, clapping his hands together. “We are having our lawyers draw up all the contracts now. We at Stark Industries really value teamwork and accessibility. So I’ve made the executive decision to do things a little differently with this agreement. Normally I wouldn’t require this but we really need dedicated staff here on sight.”

“Requiring all of our team on sight? That would be a little difficult to swing with the higher ups, Mr Stark. Our team currently has 3 other contracts we manage.” Phil said, seeming a bit confused by Stark’s announcement.

“That’s exactly my point.” Stark explained. “I need a dedicated team focused solely on our needs. Your company has plenty of other people to manage those contracts. If you want to sign on with us, I need your full attention to be on Stark Industries.”

“Ok.” Phil sighed, “We should be able to have another sector absorb our current contracts.”

“Great!” Stark exclaimed, “So we will be expecting ALL of you to be signed on as consultants as part of the contract. That just means that your team will be exclusively working on Stark Industry projects from now on. You’ll each be getting a desk and/or office down in our marketing department.”

Your boss shook Tony’s hand as everyone in the room clapped that the deal went through. You joined in, a little shocked from Tony’s change in plan. Normally, as contractors you would work in your office building where all the employees worked.

Instead, your boss, you and your three other coworkers would drop all other projects to work with Stark Industries alone. You wondered if it had something to do with what Steve said to Tony, but quickly shook that thought way. They probably just want to make sure you were dedicated to their company.

It wasn’t until your boss called your name that you returned to reality. You hadn’t noticed that Tony had his assistant bring in a few bottles of champagne and some glasses.

“Y/N do you want a glass?” your boss asked.

“Um sure. Thanks.” You mumbled, taking the champagne flute from his hand.

“Cheers,” Captain America said, raising his glass as everyone followed suit. You lifted your glass as well, eyes trained on him as he continued his toast.  “To new relationships.” He added with a subtle smirk, his icy blue eyes gazing straight into yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of why his words made you so nervous. He averted his eyes and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Business relationships, That is.” He chuckled and so did the rest of the room. His laughter spread contagiously.

Bringing the bubbling liquid to your lips you took a small sip. It was absolutely delicious. Probably the most expensive drink you’d ever had. The rest of the room continued to celebrate and talk boisterously about ideas while you and all of your team signed the contracts required by Tony.

As you left Stark Tower, you couldn’t help but feel weird. Despite the success of the meeting, you couldn’t help but wonder why you felt so on edge?

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Hi:) can ya do some tickle scenario or something like that w/ Kirishima? Also I love your blog<3 I know your request are closed but since your off of school n stuff and your mind is blank, you don’t have to do it if you dont want to I just know you said your off of school and wanted some request:P

Sorry this is so late! I'm not super super proud of it and it's not really edited, but thanks for giving me the opportunity to get back into writing! I hope you like it!

(No warnings, just a little bit of language)

In the time that you’d dated Kirishima, you’d learned a lot. You’d learned how to communicate better. You’d learned more about Eijirou. Not to mention how much you’d learned about yourself.

But it seemed as though you’d conveniently forgotten the most relevant lesson for the time being: that doing homework with your boyfriend was impossible.

You both meant well, and it always started out okay. The two of you generally worked hard and did well enough in school. Together, you’d get through a couple of questions, maybe jot down some notes, but then it would deteriorate from there.

Take today, for example. Your room was relatively quiet, excluding the occasional turning of a page or scratching of a pencil. It was nice, being productive in the presence of your boyfriend and the comfort of your bed, and, so far, nothing had gone amiss. You casually mused to yourself as your eyes skimmed over the page. Maybe once you were done with your notes on hero laws, you’d watch a movie together or something.

You didn’t pay much attention when Kirishima got up to use your bathroom. You glanced each other’s way in acknowledgment before your focus drifted back onto your work. A few moments later, your mattress sank down again, signaling he was back.

“You’re cute when you’re concentrating,” he muttered, reaching forward to brush a cluster of baby hairs off your forehead.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, pursing your lips to the side and tapping the end of your pen to your pout. “I hope you washed your hands, mister.”

“I did,” he chuckled.

You hummed and glanced back down to the lines of print you’d put on the paper. How much more of this chapter was left?

“Do you want to take a break?” Eijirou asked, sitting across from you with his legs folded together. “We’ve been at this for almost an hour.”

“You just had a break,” you protested. “Come on, I’ve only got a few more pages left. Then we can do something fun together.”

You kept your eyes glued to the page, well aware that he was giving you his puppy eyes. The both of you knew how hard it was for you to say no to those.

“One kiss?” he tried.

You snorted. “It’s never just ‘one kiss’ with us.”

“But your kisses fuel me.” He flopped down next to you, his body bouncing slightly on the bed. “I swear they make my brain function better.”

You shot an incredulous glance in his direction. “Yeah, I think that’s the opposite of how that works.”

“(Y/N),” he whined.

“Eiji,” you mocked. You nudged his shoulder with your elbow. “Come on, get up. That English page you just started isn’t even that difficult. I finished it in twenty minutes.”

He sighed and finally moved to sit up, accidentally brushing against your side in the process. You startled and gasped at the sensation, not expecting it. He jumped back from you, a look of concern crossing his face.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?” The tips of his fingers alighted on your back while he checked to make sure you were okay.

“No, I’m fine.” You let out a breathy laugh as you settled back into your spot. “You just tickled me a bit, is all.”

“You’re ticklish?” he asked, just a little bit too quickly, too excited.

“No,” you replied just as fast, recognizing the mischievous smile forming on his lips.

“Really?” he drew out, playing along. “So it would be totally fine if I just . . . .” He ran his fingers lightly down the same spot on the side of your stomach.

You shrieked with glee and flinched away from him, dropping your pen onto your notebook. “Eijirou!” you chided, unable to keep a grin off of your face. “What about English?!”

“Hmm, I kind of don’t feel like doing it right now.” He leaned in closer to you, wriggling his fingers around over the fabric of your shirt, trying to find places that you reacted to.

“You’ve made that clear,” you snorted between giggles, squirming below him.

“I promise I’ll get it done tonight. I just want to tickle you first; it’s too tempting now.”

“You’re the worst!” you laughed as he managed to pull you onto his lap.

“But I know you love me,” he whispered, slowing his movements to draw you into a kiss.

Your heart began to pound in your chest, overwhelmed with sensation. So he’d gotten his kiss, but who were you to complain? This was way better than note-taking, anyway.

His lips were sweet and gentle against yours, warm breath fanning over your cheeks. Just as your body melted into his, his fingers went back to traversing your body. Now that you were sitting up, he had more access to you.

“Hey!” you shrieked, unhappy at the abrupt end to your moment together. “Eiji!”

“What?” he asked innocently, his familiar rough digits beginning to toy with the hem of your shirt.

You couldn’t quell your giggles, even as you turned your head to the side to break eye contact. As soon as he reached your bare skin, it was over for you. All too easily, he was able to find your weakest points.

“Ei-hehe-jirou!” you squealed. “Nohohohoho! Stahahahap!”

“But you’re too cute like this,” he smirked.

“You—you sadistic—little shit!” you gasped, almost in tears from laughing so hard. You tried desperately to grab at his hands and halt his attacks, but Kirishima overpowered you. He chuckled to himself as he pinned you to the mattress, wrestling you into the blankets.

Your hands continued to flail about, determined to find something to latch onto, some means to take revenge. Finally you found it; the space right under his stomach and above his hip. Your fingers slid his shirt back just enough to dance over the exposed skin there, grinning to yourself when you felt him stiffen.

The redhead gasped, jolting and stilling his movements for a second. You figured you had him, lightly scratching at the spot with your fingernails until something changed. His skin was suddenly a different texture; rigid and hard, almost stonelike.

“OH, WHAT THE HELL!” you shouted.

He grinned at you again, grabbing your troublesome hand and pinning it by your head. “That’s not going to work on me,” he sang, leaning in.

Your heart hammered even harder in your chest, ears ringing in the sudden absence of your boisterous laughter. You felt lightheaded, and you noticed that an entire swarm of butterflies had taken off inside your stomach.

He was close to you again, your heaving chest almost able to brush against his with every inhale. Kirishima met your eyes and smiled at you fondly, but you merely pouted in response.

“You cheated,” you forced out, unwilling to give up so easily.

“Did I?” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours again.

You didn’t have much choice not to give him another kiss—not that you would have refused. Still, you let him have his way with you. Perhaps you’d lost the battle, but you weren’t giving up on the war just yet.

“So cute,” Kirishima whispered, nuzzling his nose with yours.

You played along, chasing after his lips. He indulged you, letting go of your wrists to cradle your head in his palm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him over and over again to lull him into a false sense of security. Eijirou sighed into you, melding his body with yours. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and you let him explore for a moment.

After a minute or two, you nudged him until he sat up, pulling you onto his lap again. You gave him a few more chaste kisses before you tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, trying to signal that he should take it off.

“(Y/N)?” he murmured, pulling back from you. His cheeks were a deep shade of red, matching the hues of his eyes. “Are you sure you—?”

You nodded, still playing with his sleeve, looking at him through your lashes. “Please?”

You heard him swallow, and finally he moved back just enough to slip the material over his head. He tossed the blue tee onto the floor, and you alighted your hands on his shoulders, taking a moment to glance over him. He was so attractive to you, but that wasn’t your focus now.

Without warning, your hands flew down to that little spot again, going after it with more tickles. Kirishima’s eyes widened in shock, and soon you felt yourself getting foiled by the effects of his quirk again.

“Babe,” you pouted. “Let me tickle you back.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

“What do you mean?”

He put a hand on the back of his neck. “It’s a . . . reflex. My quirk activates when stuff like that happens to me.”

“‘Stuff like that’?” you echoed.

“You know. Danger. Getting tickled, getting my shots when I was a kid . . . . That stuff. I harden automatically and I can’t control it.”

“You can’t control it, eh?” Your eyebrow shot up along with one corner of your mouth. “Isn’t Bakugou always telling us that we need to have absolute control over our quirks to be top heroes?”

He swallowed, and finally you felt the skin under your fingertips soften. “Well, I mean, I guess.”

“So it’s something you need to work on?”

“Well,” he breathed out a laugh, “It’s not like I’ve really been tickled in the past ten years.”

“I could change that,” you whispered against his ear, letting your fingers trail gently over his skin.

He shivered.

“What do you say?” you asked in the same teasing tone, letting your fingernails wander over his chest. “Want to get in some quirk training?”

“What happened to homework?”

“This is homework.”

He sighed. “Alright, (Y/N). Do your worst.”

You smiled. “Gladly.”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[danteinthedevildom]

A Royal Pajama Party “Analysis” - Part 1 (of 7)

I mentioned (a while ago, oops) that I had a lot of thoughts on Diavolo’s character as revealed in the A Royal Pajama Party Devilgram. I ended up with so many screenshots, I couldn’t contain them all to a single post - so I’ve had to split it up into seven parts (ironically). 

For this first part, I’m focusing on the free chapter. Spoilers under the cut, of course! 

To start off with, I’m going to focus on this one, single screenshot. Despite how short it is, there’s a lot that’s revealed in just six words. 

My main point of focus? Diavolo is so genuinely excited to spend time with you - actual time, not time he’s tried to slot in with some pretend event to trick you into hanging out with him - that he’s been actively waiting for you to turn up. 

This is something I’ve noted before, but we know from previous Devilgrams that Diavolo doesn’t often get to spend time with other beings simply because nobody really wants to. He openly admits that he has to trick his friends into it by planning parties - as seen in the Concealed in Colour Devilgram - and that he struggles to get out of that habit now that he’s found someone (you) willing to visit the castle just to see him. No other alterior motives required. 

And here he is, finally setting something up without trying to trick you into it! He doesn’t feel as unsure about your friendship with him anymore; he’s aware - and accepted - that you are there for him, to see him, and that he really can just ask for your time and have you willingly show up. So he’s created this little, private sleepover just to hang out with you. That shows a heck of a lot of improvement in his confidence with you and the strength of your friendship (or relationship, depending).

It also just shows the sheer excitement he has towards it. He’s anticipating the moment you arrive with such ferver that he’s been actively waiting for you. I’ll go over this a little more beneath another screenshot, but this really does highlight A) just how much it means to him that you’re coming over for a hangout and nothing more, and B) how rarely this happens for him that it’s an event worth waiting for. 

This is, mostly, just exceedingly cute, in my eyes. 

Firstly, the onesies are canonically a gift from Diavolo due to his enthusiasm for the concept of sleepovers and his enjoyment at having everyone wear one (which he believes makes it feel like a festivity). He’s so into the idea of everyone doing something together that, even if they aren’t specifically there with him, he’s had these outfits made for the beings he considers friends to unify them in fun and merriment. 

These are things he’s never been able to do before. With his isolated and sheltered childhood, the experience of sleepovers with friends - something more than normal for most (if not all) of us - would have been something he completely missed out on due to the impossibility. He couldn’t get anyone close enough to him to even make friends, let alone have them spend the night with him playing games and having fun. 

So, this act of making onesies and sending them out? This is probably his own way of replicating that experience. He’s aware that a lot of the demons - and possibly the angels - won’t be too enthused with the events he has planned, and might begrudge even showing up. Doing this instead - letting them have their own sleepovers but with his gift - is like giving them that freedom and distance from him while still being involved. 

It also shows the sort of relationship he wants to have with them. Yes, he canonically needs to send everyone an outfit since that’s how outfits in these events work - but the devs could have just as easily come up with some other reason for them all having onesies. Considering the main event, it could’ve literally just been “these are outfits forced on them as part of the curse, and are retained afterwards as a reminder of the experience”. 

To state, then, that Diavolo had these made for everyone - and combined with another screenshot I’ll show later, where Diavolo announces that he believes onesies to be part of the sleepover experience - shows that he wants the other main characters to be the kind of friends comfortable and happy enough in his company to willingly spend extended time with him. 

(It also shows, I think, that they’re the friends he always hoped for as a child. You often find that people who were isolated as children or forced to grow up too quickly try to recreate moments they never got to experience in their childhood once they’re adults. I fully believe Diavolo is doing this. He’s always doing this; it’s why he can be so immature at times. He wasn’t allowed to be a normal kid, so he’s being a big kid now to make up for lost time. It’s why it’s so important to him that he does this sort of thing with others.)

Secondly, I love the wording of the second screenshot: “I’ve had yours specially tailored”. 

This is a way around not showing MC with a onesie, and allowing all of us to create our own, sure. However, it’s also Diavolo openly admitting that he’s put extra work (and no doubt time and money) into having MC’s outfit created. After all, it’s not likely due to us being human; Solomon’s a human too, and he got his onesie without issue (Simeon explains that Purgatory Hall get theirs at the same time in his SSR Devilgram, Purgatory’s Pajama Party).

The implication? Diavolo didn’t just want to give us a onesie; he wanted to give us the perfect onesie. 

Do you recall that I said I’d come back to Diavolo’s waiting later? This is why. (Please excuse the shoddy editing to remove my own MC’s name-)

This exchange says so much about Diavolo’s relationship with you. Not only is he anticipating your arrival, he’s anticipating it with such unrestrained glee that he - the Prince of the Devildom; most powerful demon in his entire kingdom - ignored typical royal protocol and sat down in front of the castle entrance, impatiently waiting for your arrival, so he could be the first person you saw as you entered. 

The way he words it, you can imagine him bubbling with excitement, eyes constantly flickering over to the clock, shifting in his seat until the need to pace drew him to his feet, counting down the minutes until your scheduled arrival. Then, maybe fifteen minutes early - or thirty, or an hour - he can’t contain himself anymore. The sheer excitement - the knowledge that you’ll be there soon, there of your own free will, there to spend time with him - finally gets the better of him, and he sneaks away to stand before the grand front doors, eagerly awaiting the moment they open to reveal your much-loved form. 

I’d definitely say it was a substantial amount of time, too. Fifteen minutes at the least, and maybe an hour at the most; Barbatos seems genuinely shocked, and the fact he says “all this time” implies Diavolo’s been guarding the door for a while. Longer than any reasonable demon - let alone a royal one - should have been. 

This childish excitement really does show just how much of that lost youth Diavolo is getting back through MC. You let him experience things he never got to; things that were utterly normal for everyone else. He gets to replace those memories of loneliness and isolation with these moments of exhilaration and unrepentant joy - all because you treat him like someone normal. Someone worthy of care.   

Additionally, the extent to his feelings towards you? Fully encompassed in that screenshot: “For [MC], no amount of time is too long.”

He cares about you and enjoys your company to such a degree, he’ll wait however long it takes just to see you. Every moment spent counting the minutes and seconds is worth it if, at the end, he gets to spend time with you. You - the one being he’s fully confident enjoys his presence as much as he enjoys yours - mean so much to him, you’re fully capable of making the Prince of the Devildom wait for hours, and he’ll be perfectly content to just sit there until you arrive.

What other being in all the Three Realms can claim the same thing? That they made the Prince wait for their arrival, and rather than be met with annoyance and disregard, they walked in to a veritable man-puppy so overwhelmingly enthused to see them he had to be scolded by his butler for breaking protocol?

The best part, of course, is Barbatos’ response. He sounds so resigned, so disbelieving; like a mother sighing over their child’s ridiculous behaviour. 

This isn’t the first time Diavolo’s done something like this. This isn’t the first time Barbatos has had to reprimand Diavolo for acting in an un-princely manner over you. It’s something we’ve seen before, of course - in the aforementioned Concealed in Colour Devilgram, Barbatos teases Diavolo for constantly inviting MC over just to see you - but in this instance? When it’s not just Diavolo making up some scheme to lure you to the castle? It implies something else.

Firstly, it implies Diavolo’s behaviour regarding you is completely different to his behaviour regarding anyone else. That sort of childish, gleeful, almost puppyish excitement? The enthusiasm that makes him lose his poise and authority, and drives him to do such expressive things as wait to greet you at the front door? That’s very likely reserved only for you. It’s only you that he so wholly loses his shit over, to be absolutely blunt about it. It’s only you he feels so strongly for as to make such a bold declaration over. 

Secondly, though? It implies this sort of... length, I think, is the best way to word it; the lengths Diavolo will go for you, even in really small, insignificant ways. “Whenever anything concerns [you] in the slightest”, Diavolo will forego all set boundries and standards. That feeling of resignation is Barbatos chastising Diavolo’s utter willingness to do... pretty much anything for you. 

He’s just so excited that you’re there, he overreacts. From the tone, the sprite, and the wording used, I could fully imagine that, when it comes to you, Diavolo isn’t above diving out windows just to keep good on a promise. He isn’t above going the extra mile for your sake, whether asked for or not. 

And though it’s done in a humorous way here - really just implying that Barbatos is a bit done with Diavolo’s sillier antics when it comes to you - it does make me wonder just how far that goes. It’s when anything concerns you “in the slightest”. Not just directly, but anything that has you in it even tangentially. 

How much has Diavolo done, or planned, or changed, solely because it might have a glancing side-effect that makes you smile? How many times has Barbatos had to mention your name in something to get Diavolo to take an active interest in it? How many times has, “I believe MC would benefit from this...” actually worked to get Diavolo to consider a proposed deal? 

More than that, however; if these are the lengths Diavolo goes to when you’re only slightly involved... what lengths would he go to if you’re more directly involved? What lengths would he go to if your involvement was something dangerous? Something that could have a rippling effect across the Three Realms?

You’re the only true friend Diavolo really has. He’s admitted before, more than once - both in the main game and in Devilgrams - that he’s aware both Lucifer and Barbatos don’t consider him as much of a friend as he considers them, and although we know of someone like Queen Rose, we don’t actually know the full extent of their friendship. Certainly not all too close, if the Dame event was anything to go by; it still felt stiff and formal, and Diavolo was still putting on airs. 

You’re the only friend he can really let loose with; can laugh and play and spend time with, without having to do so through a veneer of formality. 

He can be himself around you. Not the Prince, but Diavolo.

How far would Diavolo go to preserve the only friend he’s ever had?

+++

This post is the longest one of the lot, so if you made it this far - thank you! Hopefully it’s been an enjoyable and easy read. 

The next set of screenshots are a bit more clear and don’t require so much in-depth thinking, but still provide plenty food for thought regarding Diavolo and his relationship with MC. They also go into content that you have to use Story Keys to unlock, so if you’re unwilling to see spoilers, you’ll have to end your reading here.

That said, if you’ve already unlocked the Devilgram (or are curious about what happens next/how much we learn about Diavolo in the next chapter), you can hop right over to part 2!

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione) Part Five

I hope you enjoy this one! It features a surprise snooty owl (I wonder who could own such a creature???) and some well-meaning concern from a friend. And some banter. And an expensive lunch. Because Theo is extra and can’t help himself. And it’s 4.6k words long...

I also realised that, since I wrote the first chapter basically out of the blue and not really intending for it to blow up into a big multi-part story, I’ve messed up the timeline a little with Harry’s kids, so I’ll have to go back and fix that when it comes to a re-edit before it goes up on AO3, but for now, just handwave it, ok? :)

Finally, many thanks for your lovely owls, anonymous or otherwise, about this story and where it’s going! I was honestly floored by the feedback I’ve got, and thank you to those who’ve reblogged it and helped get it out there for folks to read. I have a very small following since this side-blog is fairly new, so all reblogs are very much appreciated. I did a quick doodle for the cover of the story which you can find here, if you’re interested in how I pictured Draco and Scorpius standing in the steam from the Hogwarts Express from chapter one.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

___

Far earlier on Monday morning than she was accustomed to these days, Hermione woke with a start and frowned, confused. Eyes dry and prickly, and hair absolutely everywhere, she sat up and looked around, straining her ears as she blearily tried to work out what had yanked her so unceremoniously from a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep. Her Muggle alarm clock silently showed 05:54 in harsh red numbers, and nothing had touched the wards or tried to get in, though there was something thrumming against them, like the lingering reverberations of a plucked harp string.  

The temporary stillness was shattered when a wild scrabbling of claws and the beating of enormous wings started up against her bedroom window. With a flailing shriek of surprise, she nearly fell out of bed, but after taking a deep breath, she stumbled out from under the covers to wrench the curtains open.  

“Bloody owls!” she began, but drew up short when she saw the unfamiliar bird waiting impatiently on the other side of the glass.  

There, battering its truly monstrous talons against the glass, was a colossal eagle owl. When it saw her, it stopped its fussing to perch haughtily on the brick windowsill outside and fix her with a fiery red glare. If owls could have raised their eyebrows, she got the impression that this one would have done it at the sight of her.  

“Yeah, well, it’s early. What did you expect?” she groused as she slid the window panel to one side and the bird looked around her bedroom with obvious disdain. Imperiously, it stuck out one leg, like a noble expecting a servant to remove a dirty boot, and she saw a rolled-up piece of parchment with a green wax seal and a green ribbon to bind it together.  

“Who do you belong to then?” she asked, going automatically to stroke the bird’s flight-ruffled chest plumage. It instantly hissed and nipped at her fingers, and she barely drew them back in time. “Christ! No need for that,” she gasped. She’d never met a postal owl as cantankerous as this one. “I usually give visiting owls a treat, but I don't think I like your manners one bit.”  

With the letter in hand, she slid the window closed again, leaving a gap just small enough that the bird wasn’t going to barge its way in. She wondered if it had been instructed to wait for an answer because it began almost immediately clicking its beak against the glass and hooting indignantly. 

“Manners makyth bird,” she snapped without looking up, and broke the unfamiliar wax seal on the letter.

It had a cursive ‘M’ within a circle, but was otherwise unadorned. Unfurling it, she glanced at the name on the bottom and her eyebrows rose as her growing suspicions were confirmed. It was signed in a princely English roundhand by none other than Draco Malfoy.  

She snorted, glancing back at the bird who was doing its best basilisk impression from the other side of the glass. “Who else would have such a snotty owl?”

It hooted childishly at her again and she laughed.  

Dear Hermione,

I must beg of you to forgive the unspeakably rude hour of this correspondence, but I am leaving this morning for France by portkey for a couple of days and I had hoped to get your answer before I left. I should add now before you read any further — although with your kind heart I fear it may be too late already — that Cassiopeia here is not fond of physical affection, but is very partial to owl treats. She can be bribed into doing almost anything for food, but affection is sadly not in her nature, so please be careful with your fingers around her beak. The only reason I was able to get her to fly at all at this time of the day was to bribe her lavishly. She’s terribly spoilt, and for that, I’m sorry too.  

Hermione shot another look at the bird, who narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Cassiopeia, eh?” she said and the enormous owl bobbed a few times. “Prideful about your good looks then, are you? You should know how your namesake’s story ended then. But, I suppose you could be forgiven since you are an inordinately pretty bird. You’ll still not get a crumb from me after trying to take my fingers off though. I’ll be having words with Malfoy about that.”  

Cassiopeia ruffled her feathers and promptly turned her back on Hermione. The bird didn’t take off, so she returned her attention to the letter.  

I spent all weekend thinking about our evening together on Friday, but it will come as little surprise to you to learn that it has taken me all that time to muster up my limited courage to ask you to dinner at your next convenience. Naturally, I left it to the last possible moment to ask you. I have a place in mind in London, but it’s a little more out of the way than the restaurants on Diagon Alley. I have it on authority from the owner that you have never been there, and I would very much like to surprise you, but if you would feel more comfortable knowing in advance, then you can ask Theo while I am out of the country.  

Staggered, Hermione stared at the letter and found her vision swimming a little. Blinking, she was shocked to find tears blurring his formal — almost painfully formal — words.  

But how long had it been since anyone had actually asked her on a date? ‘Too intimidating’, ‘too boring’, ‘too work-orientated’, ‘too bossy’, ‘too driven’ were all things she’d heard at one point or another, and admittedly many of them from Ron.  

Thirty seven wasn’t even old - especially by magical standards - but she didn’t exactly have the same bright-eyed charms as someone like, say, Lavender did anymore. Hard work, and a draining marriage seemed to have sapped much of the youth and vigour from her. And, if she were honest, being replaced by someone supposedly ‘more attractive’ had damaged her more deeply than she cared to admit, even to herself. There were certainly days when she felt like a washed-up, burnt-out, dowdy old matron. She had crashed out of a sparkling career in the Ministry to run a scruffy old second-hand bookshop next to the newly-refurbished Florian Fortescue’s ice cream parlour.  

“Why are you even bothering, Malfoy?” she murmured aloud as she stared blankly at the letter in her hands. With looks like his — and a groaning Gringotts’ account if the rumours were to be believed, not that that mattered a jot to Hermione — he could probably have had almost any witch he wanted, his past and reclusive behaviour be damned. And yet he was asking her to dinner after having only met twice since they turned eighteen? Three times, she supposed if she included that brief encounter at the Ministry on the night of the attack.  

Perhaps he was lonely just wanted the company. Perhaps she was just… convenient; a chump with a soft spot for outcasts…

Before she let herself go too far down that unsavoury rabbit hole, she forced herself to read on, heart pounding. Outside on the windowsill, the owl had gone very still, watching her with curious, orange eyes.  

Please feel free to send Cassiopeia back with your response either way. I hope I have not overstepped or misread how things are between us now, especially given our history, but I find my thoughts returning over and over to our evening, and to that surprise lunch on the 1st of September. I’m not sure what I had expected when you asked me to join you that day, but I certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy myself as much as I did. In the years since I became Scorpius’ sole guardian, I have not sought the company of others, nor have I particularly enjoyed it when it has been inflicted upon me, but those two occasions spent with you have drawn me out of myself. You truly are a remarkable witch, and I’m more moved and honoured than I can express that you have given me even this much of your precious time already.  

Before I begin to ramble too freely, I think I must sign off here.  

Yours,  

D.M.  

P.S. Scorpius did write to me in the end. He has a detention already, and Potter’s youngest is also involved somehow… I will get more details from him anon, and no doubt a letter from McGonagall in due course.  

For a long time, Hermione stood in her bedroom, with her hair in a wild halo around her head and her scruffy old pyjamas hanging low on her hips, just staring at his signature.  

When Draco’s owl began to fidget and fuss again, she sighed and looked up. “Sit tight,” she breathed. “I’m going to get a piece of paper and if you keep quiet, I might bring an owl treat with me when I come back, ok?”

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes and ducked her head suspiciously, but remained put on the windowsill, so she took that as a ‘yes’ and disappeared into her tiny study.  

Grabbing a biro from the chipped mug that served as a pen and quill pot, and tearing a sheaf of paper from a muggle notebook, she scrawled a note back to him.  

With that done, and before she could talk herself out of what she had just accepted, she returned to his owl with a treat. The bird mobbed her for it instantly, but Hermione scowled at her, snatched her hand back, and barked, “Wait! My goodness, you are spoilt. Let me attach this first, and if I manage it without you drawing blood or otherwise maiming me, not only will it be a flipping miracle, but you’ll get your sodding treat, alright?”

The bird went still with a tiny shuffle of her wings, and stuck out her leg.  

“Thank you,” Hermione said tartly.  

Cassiopeia took off with her note attached by the same green ribbon and secured with a basic sticking charm. The downdraft from her departure sent bits of accumulated detritus from the window ledge spiralling up into Hermione’s face, but she coughed and blinked, and watched the bird soar way up into the sky. The receding dot of her silhouette banked west, out of sight and in the eventual direction of Wiltshire and Malfoy Manor.  

Malfoy Manor.  

She’d hardly given the place any thought since that fateful night ten or so years ago when Malfoy had been attacked, a whole wing had been burned to the ground, and Scorpius had nearly been killed. They’d never said in the papers who had done it, and the Auror Office had been distinctly tight-lipped about it. Not that she’d really bothered to find out more, if she were honest. Once Malfoy’s little yowling mandrake had left her office in his father’s arms, she had been almost instantly reabsorbed with her own caseload, and Harry had never mentioned the outcome of the investigation to her. A twinge of gilt shot through her but she pushed it down. It was hardly a topic for dinnertime conversation either, so she doubted she’d find out immediately.  

She thought vaguely about clambering back into bed, but since she was up, she headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. It had been a while since she’d been up before dawn, and she had some paperwork to do anyway.  

Cassiopeia’s appearance was not the only unusual thing to happen to her that day. She had no visitors to the shop at all for the entire morning, but when the brass bell above the door did finally chime, she looked up from the desk at the back of the shop to find Theo striding in.  

“Hi, love,” he grinned, stepping deer-like over the stack of recent arrivals beside the counter and stooping to hug her where she sat. “Lunch. You and me. Now.”

“Theo, I have a shop to run,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t just… leave. Besides, I brought sandwiches.”

“I will literally pay you the price of an entire chest of first editions to spend the next few hours in my company if things are that tight. Or I could just… buy you an entire chest of first editions,” he said, adding with his most dangerous puppy-dog eyes, “Seriously, please come to lunch with me?”

She flicked her wrist and the ‘open’ sign hanging in the glass-panelled door flipped over to ‘closed’. “I’m not accepting your money, Theo. What’s the occasion?”

He twitched slightly and then flashed her a grin; a combination that made her instantly wary. “Does a gentleman need ‘an occasion’ to ask a beautiful lady to lunch?” he asked, his brown eyes wide with feigned innocence.  

Hermione slowly raised one eyebrow. “You’re gay. And happily married. And that’s a terrible line. Try again.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t take my very best friend out,” he shrugged nonchalantly.  

Something was definitely up.  

“Draco Malfoy is, and always has been, your very best friend in all the world. Try again.”

“You,” he said, actually growling the word this time with comical frustration, “Are one very persistent witch.”

“Mmhmm. How do you think I made it to Minister by twenty-seven, darling,” she grinned, still without getting up from her chair. “Last chance or I turn that sign around and forcibly evict you from my shop.”  

Theo whipped his wand out from his inner jacket pocket like he was in a duel, and apparently vanished the offending sign from the door altogether. “There. Your threats are empty. Come to lunch with me.”

“Theodore Nott, you return my sign this instant.”

“Say you’ll come to lunch with me, and the sign goes back up.”

“I will not be threatened in my own shop!” she laughed, arms folding across her chest like a petulant child. “Put it back. Now.”

“Say you’ll come with me,” he said with a wide, playful grin, planting his hands on the counter and leaning his long frame forwards.  

She had to bite her lips to stop from giggling. The charming scoundrel knew she’d say yes anyway. “I’ll tell Dan you were bullying me,” she said.  

“Tell him; he’ll never believe you. He thinks I’m lovely. Come on, Hermione,” he added, softening from playful to plaintive. “I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“You and my ‘very best friend in all the world’, that’s what,” he said, and levelled her with a flat stare.

Her stomach dropped and she remembered the letter from that morning. And its contents. ‘…if you would feel more comfortable knowing, then you can ask Theo while I am gone’ Draco had said. He’d spoken with Theo about asking her out. She didn't know whether to be honoured or embarrassed.

Seeing her expression slip, Theo came round the side of the counter to stand beside her and leaned his hips against the wooden desk. “So you like him?”

“I… Why would that be a surprise?”

Theo blinked, and then his gaze flickered down to her left forearm. Everyone knew about the word engraved into her skin with the point of a cursed knife — she’d never tried to conceal it — but not many knew the real truth of just how the slur had come to be carved indelibly into her flesh. Theo was one of the few who did. “You’re really asking me why I’m surprised you like him?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “You, of all people?”

She took a very deep breath, held it, and then sighed. “Let’s go. You’re paying though. And I’m drinking.”

He managed a shy smile, and as they approached the front door of her shop his shimmering illusion around the sign dissolved to reveal it once again.  

“Cheeky bugger,” she smirked at him and he waggled his eyebrows disarmingly. An undercurrent of anxiety still lurked beneath his jovial expression though.  

A number of new restaurants had opened up in Diagon Alley, but Theo’s and Dan’s favourite was a sleek, modern establishment, quite different from the fusty old decor of the Leaky Cauldron or the other more traditional restaurants in wizarding London. It also sat overlooking the crooked columns of Gringotts, and was eye-wateringly expensive. Naturally, Theo was greeted by name at the door, and the pair were shown without fuss or fanfare to one of the nicest — and most secluded — tables.

With food ordered, and enormous balloon-glasses of wine in front of them, Theo fixed her with a serious look and steered the conversation around to the real reason for his impromptu lunchtime kidnapping. “He finally grew a pair and asked you to dinner then?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “I take it this is… unusual for him?”

Theo tipped his head back and chuckled softly, sounding more tired than amused. “That’s putting it mildly, love. Until Friday, I had the devil’s own job trying to get dear Draco to leave his gloomy little manor house and come to anything. I had to blackmail him into coming to our anniversary, you know?”  

Hermione just frowned, not entirely sure if he was being serious or not.  

Theo let out a slow breath and stared into his wineglass, idly twirling the stem between long fingers. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said without looking at her, “I’m beyond grateful that he finally seems to be opening up to the idea of… being somewhat… vulnerable again, but…”

“You’re worried I’m going to hurt him,” she said quietly, and Theo bowed his head. “Theo, I’m… You know me. This isn’t just some one night stand with a rich, attractive bloke I met in a bar. I haven’t —” she leaned in close over the table and hissed, “I haven’t even had sex with anyone in years, Theo. Years!” She brushed an errant corkscrew of hair back out of her eyes, embarrassed.

His lips twitched at that, but his eyes remained stormy.  

“I’m not going into this lightly. I was honestly as surprised as you are, but I wouldn’t even be considering going on a date with Draco Malfoy if I wasn’t completely convinced that he was no longer the bratty little owl-pellet he was back at Hogwarts.”

At that, Theo barked such a loud laugh that the patrons at the tables nearby turned to look at him like he’d sworn in a church. He covered his mouth with his hand and snickered himself into silent tears for a good thirty seconds before she rolled her eyes and sat back with her glass in her hand, waiting for him to control himself again.  

“I’m telling Dan you called him that. And Pansy. They’ll love it.”

“Right,” she said, cheeks suddenly hot. “Well, as much as he might have been an owl pellet, let’s not have it become a ‘thing’, hmm?”

The mirth in his face simmered back down and he looked at her steadily over the rim of his wineglass. “Look, I care about both of you, and I can see this going two ways. One: you realise that the two of you actually have an awful lot in common, he takes you to increasingly fancy places for dates, you have lots of steamy sex, and finally settle down together. Two: the past gets in the way, you both say hurtful stuff you don’t really mean, and you both end up single and twice as miserable as you were before you went for lunch at the Leaky. Don't think I didn’t know about that, either,” he added.  

“You’re such a gossip,” she snapped.  

“I was being serious, Hermione,” he said, leaning to one side as their food arrived.  

She paused until the waiter had left but didn’t make any move to pick up her cutlery. “Are you looking out for him or for me?” she asked.  

Theo sighed. “Both of you. But…”

“Mostly Draco, huh?”

“He’s like a brother to me, Hermione. He was there for me when no one else was. You know the things my father did to me as a child, and Draco helped me through all of it. And ‘Cissa too. And I couldn’t believe it when he actually showed up at drinks the other night. Watching him, it… it was like the old Draco had come back to me. The nice ‘old Draco’, I mean.” His eyes glistened and he blinked rapidly, voice cracking as he continued. “After the attack, he shut himself away at the Manor with Scorpius, as if he could keep the whole world out just to keep little Scorp safe. I thought… I thought he’d never leave, Hermione.”

“You never talked about any of this,” she said gently, forcing herself to make a start on her linguine despite the fact that her appetite had vanished almost completely.  

Theo shrugged. “I guess… I guess I wanted to give him the privacy he craved, and to be honest, I didn’t think you’d be all that sympathetic to him after your history.”

At that, she scowled, but she could see his point. “Theo, I held his screaming infant in my arms for hours while he was being questioned by the Aurors that night. I saw his face when he came to my office for Scorpius afterwards.” She shook her head. “No one who saw him then could believe he was even a shadow of the person he had been at Hogwarts.”

At her words, Theo had stopped eating, fork held loosely between perpetually-ink-stained fingers even as it rested on his plate. “You did? He never said.”

She tried not to examine that last comment too closely. “Mm. Harry didn't know what else to do with him, so he brought Scorpius to me to see if I could quieten him down. In the end all it took was a handful of my hair and a few poorly-sung folk songs. But you’re missing the point, Theo. You could have trusted me with things that were worrying you. I would have listened to you.”

“I —” he cut off and cleared his throat. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… Aside from Dan, I don’t think I love anyone as much as I love him.”

It was Hermione’s turn to choke up a little, but she swallowed and said, “Then I can think of no greater accolade for his character.” She looked up at him and added, “So where’s he taking me then?”

“You said yes?”

“I did. I like him. And not just because he looks like a flipping marble statue brought to life. He’s thoughtful, and he always was extremely intelligent and articulate. I’ve really enjoyed talking with him this time around. I think… I think…” she pursed her lips and took a too-big gulp of wine. Luckily it all went down the right way, and she forged on. “I think… we could work. Or at least… I want to see where it goes, Theo.”

With a slow nod, Theo finally relaxed his shoulders and let out a shaky breath. “He wants to take you to The Foundry.”  

“I’ve never heard of it,” she mumbled. It wasn’t one of the ones in Diagon Alley, for sure.

Theo made a side-to-side movement of his head. “I’m not surprised. It’s…”

“Oh God, is it horrifically expensive?” she asked, eyes wide with a sudden abject terror. “Theo, if he’s going to take me somewhere hideously fancy for our first date, I’m going to back out right now…”

The corners of his lips lifted and he shook his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. You have to know the owners to get a table though, and there are no menus. They’ll ask if you have any allergies, but other than that, you eat what they serve you.”

“Holy fuck, Theo…”

“Trust me, you’ll love it. The place used to be a bell foundry in the seventeenth century — hence the name — and it’s this gorgeous brick building with arches and vaults, and cosy little corners,” he added, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll forget where you are and be as comfortable as if you were in your own pokey little Muggle living room. I promise.”

She narrowed her eyes and took another gulp of wine. “I’ll take your word for it, Nott,” she said. “What should I wear?”

Without hesitation, he said, “That burgundy number you haven’t worn since Pansy told you to buy it.”

She blanched at that. “Theo, it’s…”

“Gorgeous? Revealing in all the right ways, yet modest enough to suit you? Dead sexy? Exactly the kind of thing that will make Draco lose his goddamn mind when he sees you in it? The kind of thing that will make him spend all evening simultaneously admiring you in it and mentally tearing it off you —”

“Theo, stop!” she hissed, flushing darker. “For God’s sake shut up!”

He cackled into the remainder of his wine, but refused to give any more sartorial advice.  

“Burgundy dress and heels it is, I guess,” she said, and the two of them focused on their food again.  

“I hope,” Theo said as they left a very leisurely two hours later, “I hope you don’t think I was too…” he jiggled nervously on the balls of his feet as he held the door open for her, “Overbearing…”

“I mean, you did ambush me, blackmail and threaten me into having lunch with you at the fanciest restaurant in Diagon Alley where I couldn’t reasonably kick up a fuss, and then proceed to tell me all sorts of heartrending stories about Draco and yourself…”  

When she saw the wounded look in Theo’s brown eyes, she stopped and turned to face him.

“Theo, no. You’re one of my best friends, and you clearly care about us both. Stop panicking,” she added when she saw the slightly wild light in his eyes. “You didn’t try to tell me what to do or who to see. You’re looking out for your friends, and making sure we’re both… serious about this. And I appreciate that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and added, “But know that if you keep meddling beyond that, I will hex your bollocks off and make you explain it to Dan.”

“Understood,” he said with a watery smile. “I was worried I’d overstepped.”

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me one thing.”

“Name it.”

“Did you have the same talk with Draco about breaking my heart?”

His handsome, freckled face split into a blinding white grin. “I did.”

“Forgiven,” she said. “Now, some of us actually have to work for a living.”

“I work!” he squealed. “I work bloody hard up in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, thank you very much!”

“I know you do,” she conceded. “Not that you actually need a job, you filthy rich prick.”

Theo laughed long and loud, scooping her hand up in his and walking arm in arm down the bustling, cobbled street towards her bookshop. “And to think,” he chimed with a sidelong look down at her, “You used to be Minister for Magic with that mouth.”

“I know,” she said. “It nearly got me into trouble on many an occasion.”

Kneazel and Quill’s little sign swung jauntily in the breeze and Theo gave a slight bow from the waist when they stopped at the door. With anyone else, it might have seemed foppish and insincere, but with Theo, she knew he meant it. He was only silly like this with his closest friends.  

“Good day, fair maiden of the dusty bookshop,” he said. “And thank you for giving my idiot best friend a chance.”

Hermione nodded and smiled. She stood and soaked up the autumn sunshine for a while as she watched his retreating back, until he eventually disappeared into the Diagon Alley entrance to the Ministry and she slid back into the musty quiet of her little sanctuary.

Chapter Six

___

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of friendship! Next time, Hermione and Draco go for that date...!! Things will start to gain momentum too, fear not. It’s not going to be an eternal slow-burn...

writing masterlist | Ao3

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 58]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Wow I am tired and have a headache, but also I have to get my grading in by tomorrow so... 

If I get too miserable, I may stop abruptly and get up early to finish it in the morning.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

 Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

 She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

  Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

  Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

 “How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

  Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

 “Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

 “Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

 “Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

 “A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

 “No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Twenty

Summary: Ben comes home and some good things are in order...

W/C: 1.8k

Warnings: insinuated intimacy

A/N: Technically, this is supposed to be the last chapter, but there's a few more things I wanted to write for these two. Although these are side stories, it still technically means it's not done 😂 so, you all have something to still look forward to for this world that I fell in love with. Also, I'm soon going to be doing some editing of the chapters (especially the early ones) to make them just the small bit better. Thank you to everyone who read and supported this story. I love you all.

Also if anyone would like to see a specific situation (first visit to reader's parents, stories with Cody and Boga, etc.) feel free to ask me. I'd be more than happy to write that for you for your enjoyment. With that, enjoy this not really last chapter.

- - -

“I haven’t seen them in so long,” Ben said as you walked up the few steps to your house.

It had been quite a while spent in the hospital. The doctor wanted to wait until his concussion was gone and his ribs were healed properly, due to the past.

“I’m sure Cody is just going to bowl you over,” you said with a chuckle which he returned.

“Then, it’s a good thing that my wrist is the only thing not fully healed yet.”

Over the last month and a half, you had done a lot of back and forth from the hospital. Between work and taking care of the dogs, you would see Ben. Thankfully, your neighbours were overly generous and took very good care of Cody and Boga during all of this.

“We may even need to go back to the hospital,” you joked.

Unlocking the door, you were met by the two familiar faces. For a moment, they seemed to hesitate in disbelief. It didn’t last long as they started excitedly barking and attacking Ben with months of longing to see him.

You tried hard to hide your laughter behind your hand, but it didn’t last. Ben had to sit so that he wouldn’t be knocked over, even while he was crouching. The two were practically jumping on him.

Eventually, they had turned their attention on you as well. The two were happy that they had both of you again. Together.

While you sat in the entrance of your home, you greeted Cody and Boga until they finally calmed down.

“Looks like you were half right,” Ben said, pushing back his now wild hair. “It wasn’t only Cody who bowled me over.”

The two of you laughed and you helped him up.

“Now, I can’t always be a hundred percent right, now can I?” you said with another chuckle.

In return, he gave a cheeky grin in response before thanking you.

After that, it was almost like life went back to normal. The routine of walking the dogs, Ben making dinner, and so much more. This time, though, you had a new appreciation of being with the other.

The men from your office that were recorded were charged and arrested. Everyone else seemed to find ways to apologize to Ben, and sometimes you for going off of a rumour instead of the truth.

Soon, work was normal again. Ben would come up and see you when he could, Siara and Paisley joked around about many things, and you would walk home arm-in-arm with Ben.

There was also the day that Freddy FINALLY proposed to Paisley. It brought a new optimistic air around everything.

Everything seemed so much better.

-

On your two year anniversary, Ben had said that he wanted to make a bigger deal out of it. Partially because you never got to celebrate your one year due to some events. So, he wanted to treat the two of you.

Like quite a lot of dates the two of you had, he told you that everything happening tonight would be a surprise.

So, you got ready. The dress you wore matched the colour of the topaz that you never took off. Even when you were mad at him so long ago, it had stayed around your neck.

For a moment, you just stood while looking in the mirror. You stood there until you felt familiar arms wrap around you. The feeling of his chest against your back always comforted you.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, you know,” he whispered into your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Smiling, you caught a glimpse of the suit he was wearing. He was wearing the suit you hadn’t seen since just before he left for work. The one he wore the night the two of you shared the most special of moments.

“And you’re as handsome as the first time you wore this suit,” you said in reply. You felt as he moved his hands to your waist and drew small circles with his thumbs.

As he nuzzled into your neck, you felt him smile. “Maybe there’s something else we could repeat from that night.”

When you turned in his arms, you were met by his playful gaze.

Grabbing his lapels, you pulled him against you and whispered against his lips, “Maybe.” Then you kissed him briefly before pulling away to finish getting ready. You didn’t miss the slight drop in his shoulders of disappointment when you did. It made you chuckle to yourself.

When both of you were ready, the two of you walked hand-in-hand. You didn’t know where you were going, but you figured it out quickly.

“Rick’s?”

Smiling down at you, he nodded. “I did say that tonight needs to be special,” he said. Excitement ran through your mind as you thought of what he may have planned.

When you arrived, you were surprised to see the restaurant empty, save for Siara, Brian, Paisley and Freddy. Of course, Rick was there too.

Ben leaned down and whispered, “We’ll be alone after we eat. I just thought it would be nice to have everyone together for a little while.”

Nodding with a smile, you made your way to the group.

After greeting each other, you all got down to your usual group conversations that would quickly shift to different stories and groups. It was all like normal.

One thing you loved was seeing how happy Paisley and Freddy were. It was the first time you all had been together since the night Freddy proposed.

“So,” you heard Brian start, “do you have a date set yet?”

Paisley and Freddy shared a look before nodding. “Not an exact day, yet. But, we were thinking sometime next year.”

All of you shared excited smiles as some more questions were asked. You and Siara, even though you had seen it a hundred times, asked Paisley to show her ring off again.

You held Ben’s hand on his knee while everything was happening. Once in a while, he would give you a small squeeze in comfort. It made you smile a little bigger each time.

At one point, the two of you were able to take a quick moment for yourselves between the other conversations.

“What do you think so far?” he whispered as he leaned close to your ear.

“I love it, but I’m excited for later,” you whispered back to him. He smiled and gave you a quick kiss to your jaw before sitting back again. Then, he winked.

Even while all of you ate, the talking strongly persisted. There were just so many things that all of you hadn’t been able to discuss for quite a while. It had been a long time since all of you actually had time.

After food was eaten, and the drinks were finished, the others all said that they had to leave. It left the two of you alone in the restaurant for a moment. Now, you were leaning against Ben’s shoulder.

“I know that we’re now alone here, but I’d like to take you somewhere else,” he told you.

“What else do you have planned, Mr. Kenobi?” you said playfully.

“You’ll see,” he said with a grin. “Shall we?” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

Nodding, he stood up first and offered you his hand. Taking it, you easily looped your arm through his as he led you out of the restaurant.

On the way out, you said goodbye to Rick as he was at the entrance.

“Have an amazing rest of your night, Rosebud,” he said with a huge smile. Then, he looked at Ben, “Make sure you treat her right.”

“I will, sir,” he replied with a wink. A look was shared between the two that you couldn’t make out.

For a while, the two of you walked around while you talked. As you did, you hugged his arm tightly, loving the comfort. Tonight was going so well and your love for him only continued to grow in each passing moment.

After a while, you noticed that he was bringing you to a place you haven’t been in almost two years. The place where you and Ben shared your first kiss. The place where you officially became a couple.

Looking up at Ben, a large grin was painting his face. For the briefest moment, he glanced at you and quietly chuckled.

“Like I said, I wanted tonight to be special.”

When you reached the path, he unlooped his arm and took your hand. Leading you down the pathway, he held your hand tightly while occasionally looking back to you. There was excitement on his face that easily spread to you.

Like the last time you first reached the opening of the path, there was a blanket where the grassy area was surrounded by trees and bushes. The waves still possessed a calm push.

With the blanket, instead of an electric lamp, there were candles lighting the area. This gave it a beautiful yellow glow to the area.

There was also a bottle of champagne with two glasses on a small table that was basically touching the ground. Every little part of the setup only made you happier and more excited to see what else Ben had in store for the two of you.

The bright moon hung in the air and brought an extra beautiful glow to the setup. It also helped bring a special glint in Ben’s eyes as he looked into yours before leaning close.

“What do you think?” Ben said quietly next to your ear.

His curiosity was genuine as he watched your face. In response, you smiled, “It’s perfect, Obi.”

That gained you the grin that always made you melt. The one that not only spread from cheek to cheek, but one that showed all of his teeth. His very short facial hair only served to amplify it.

“Come on,” he said and grabbed your hand again. With a slower pace, he walked you over to the blanket.

When you got there, he didn’t take long to pull you to him. One hand was on the small of your back while the other still held your hand. Your free hand rested on his shoulder.

For a moment, you looked into each other’s eyes. Your heart swelled as you saw him smirk.

“May I have the honour of joining you in this dance,” he said as he reached in his pocket and started playing music from his phone. The first song: Fly Me to the Moon. Your first dance together.

“The honour would be mine,” you replied.

Easily, he swept you into a dance. It was nothing special. Mainly just the two of you swaying from side to side with small steps while enjoying the other’s warmth.

When the song ended, Ben turned off any others that may play. Looking into his eyes, you were swept away by the tenderness in them. There was also something else that seemed like he was excited about something.

Reaching up to cup his cheek, he leaned into your touch and your thought was brushed away. All you knew now was that you were in the arms of the man you loved.

You didn’t know how long it was, but the two of you stayed like that for a while. Then, you saw as he swallowed before talking.

“Y/N, I love you so much,” he started. “There’s never been anyone who I could ever see in this moment. You’ve helped me learn so much through these years.”

“Obi-Wan,” you said softly. You traced your thumb over his cheekbone.

There was no way you could describe how you were feeling. You did know, however, that, even with what was happening during your one year, you were just glad to be here now. There was nothing you would change if it threatened this all from happening.

“You are strong, independent, and I’m just lucky that you ever even smile at me,” he said. You could feel his heart racing, “I’m honoured to know that I’m one of the reasons for that smile. I’m honoured that you ever took notice of me.”

For a moment, he paused. He took your hand that was on his cheek and held it in his own.

“Now, you’ve gifted me with more than your smile. You’ve gifted me with your love of which I will never take for granted.”

With his words, tears began to fall with your smile. Gently, he wiped the tears away.

What he did next shocked you, but in a way that sent butterflies through your stomach. Ben had gotten down on one knee and held out a box holding a beautiful ring.

“Y/N Y/L/N, your smile is the only one I ever want to wake up to. Most of all, you are the only one I see by my side for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

Your tears of happiness were falling again as you were truly elated. Desperately, you had to stop yourself from laughing from how happy you were feeling.

There were no questions. Although you had to keep happy tears from falling, you yelled, “Yes!”

Immediately, he stood up and crushed his lips to yours. As he kissed you, he took the ring out of the box. For a moment, you separated so he could slip the ring on your finger. Looking at each other for a small moment, you smiled then kissed each other again, just relishing the moment.

When you needed to catch your breath, you rested your head against his. He chuckled.

“What is it?”

“I forgot that we have some paparazzi,” he whispered. Then he gestured towards the bushes. “They insisted on taking pictures.”

“Ah.”

Once again, you kissed him. The two of you were too enraptured in the moment to care about the others that may be watching.

The two of you went the rest of the time pretending that your audience was never there and totally didn’t make a bunch of noise when they left. So, Ben popped the champagne and the two of you enjoyed the night while leaning up against each other watching the moon and the waves that gently danced along the sandy beach.

-

Soft lips were pressing against your bare back and shoulders when you woke up. Ben felt as you moved and tightened his arm to pull you to his chest.

Slowly, you turned so that you were facing him. The sight of him was amazing. His overly ruffled hair from last night, the beard just a little thicker, and his blue eyes looking at you lovingly.

Resting a hand on his chest, you traced a finger through the hairs there. This is the man you’re going to spend the rest of your days with.

“Good morning, darling,” he whispered.

You buried yourself into his chest and loved how he moved his arm to wrap around your back. “Do we have to leave the bed today?” you said against his neck before pressing a kiss there.

“Well, I’m sure the neighbours won’t mind having some more time with the dogs,” he replied playfully.

As he moved his hand to the small of your back, he moved so that he could kiss your neck, throat, and shoulders. You splayed your fingers through his hair as he continued until his lips meant yours.

“As much as I love the sound of it, we should probably get them.” You almost whined as he pulled away.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice had a twinge of disappointment.

All you could do was chuckle, “I never said that.”

With his signature cheeky grin, he continued.

-

A month went by, and you were sitting in the doctor’s office. Lately, you’ve been feeling terrible. Nausea, headaches, and you were more tired than usual. This has lasted just over a week now. Even Ben was starting to get worried and he was always optimistic about everything. Well, almost everything.

So, you went to the doctor. You didn’t tell Ben, as he would rather wait for it to pass over due to his dislike for medical care. When you thought about it, he had a good reason.

Right now, you were waiting for results. While you waited, you were scared for what it may be. You didn’t think to look up any symptoms before you arrived.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” the doctor called out. Meeting their gaze, they said with a smirk, “Please come with me.”

For a moment, you panicked at thinking something was wrong and they were bringing you somewhere private to tell you. That’s what you thought, but you didn’t think they’d look so positive. Maybe it was just so they could give you medicine for some sort of flu.

They invited you to sit and get comfortable.

In the moment, you were very confused. The fact that you went to a private room made you think something bad was going to be said, but the doctor still wasn’t letting up their grin.

“Is something wrong?” you asked. You really needed to know what was happening.

They smiled, “No there isn’t. You are perfectly healthy. Both you and the baby.”

Shock filled you. Did they really just say the baby? When you looked back at it, it did make sense. You were late, but you didn’t even think about it.

A smile spread across your face at the thought of the new addition. Excitement, not without being accompanied by nervousness, filled you at the thought of telling Ben the news.

“You’re about 4 weeks along. Congratulations,” the doctor said with a smile.

There were a couple things that you went over with them before you left. One thing filled your mind: telling Ben.

So, walking through the door, you were greeted by Boga. You heard music softly playing from the office, telling you where he was.

“Hello, darling,” he said as soon as you stepped through the door. He was at his desk, doing work that wasn’t needed to be done for almost a week.

“I thought we agreed that this weekend was supposed to be work free,” you said jokingly, but still seriously.

He sighed and looked slightly embarrassed, “I know but there was something bugging me.” Then, he saw the happy look in your eyes, “What did you do that has you so happy?”

“I went to the doctor,” you replied. There was a slight look of discontent but you watched as he pushed it away. “And, good news, I’m fine.”

A smile spread across his face. Then, he considered you for a moment.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

You nodded, putting a hand over his as you knelt down beside him. Taking a moment, you swallowed down your nervousness and took a deep breath.

“Ben,” you paused for a second, “I’m pregnant.”

At first, shock came over him. You imagined that it was what you looked like when you first found out. Finally, a small smile spread his lips.

“We- we’re having a child,” he quietly mumbled to himself. Meeting your eyes, his smile grew large, “We’re having a child!” His excited tone broke through the last nerves you had felt.

Suddenly, he slid off his chair to his knees and pulled you in for a hug.

“How far along?” he mumbled into your hair as he held you close.

“About a month,” you replied.

He pulled back and looked in your eyes before kissing you. Both of you knew exactly what a month ago was.

Then, he chuckled to himself.

“What?”

“Clearly, they’re already like us. They want to show up before our other big step.”

“Just like how you said I love you first,” you chuckled. “Now, that’s definitely a you thing.”

His smile grew. “And they’re also like you. Making me smile at just the thought,” he said softly as he brought a hand to your cheek.

“Then, I hope that they will be as kind as you,” you said, leaning into his hand.

“And as caring as you,” he came back.

No longer could you hold back. You kissed him with all of the happiness you felt. You kissed him with the happiness of your future.

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @where-fantasy-meets-reality @hopeladybug @wintersoldiersthings

[vintagedaydreams]

TLNRS Mini Reboot

               Guys, I did a thing. Sooooooo, a reader asked if sometime I would be able to write a chapter one reboot of TLNRS where the reader asked to be killed instead of punishing Carlisle. And I was all, ‘Sure! Great idea! Not sure when I’ll get to it, but if I come up with something, I’ll let you know!’ yadda yadda yadda. Welp. Here it is.

               I actually wrote 2 of them. 2 complete different stories, though the first half is the same in both.

               Uh….sorry, not sorry??

NOT GONNA LIE, THERE ARE SOOO MANY SCENARIOS THIS COULD TAKE: THERE MAY BE MORE OUTCOMES EVENTUALLY??

               These are not edited, not even proof read all the way and I honestly wasn’t sure how to end either one since I DO NOT want to make these into full stories since, you know, I already have 2 WIPs.

               So, be warned! They may suck.                                                                                                

               Buuuuuuuut, they’re written. So without further ado, the first one!

 @kettnerjanea @katsav17 @imyourapocalypse @bethanymccauley @whirlpoolsink @rasberryfon-fon

               Volterra, Italy. A walled city in the middle of Italy, you know, the country that's on the opposite continent of America? Yes, that Volterra, Italy. A place you'd never been to in your life.

               And yet, here you were. With the Cullen family and your mate. Your mate that you didn't know was your mate and who you actually thought was already happily mated to another. Another vampire. Your mate, Carlisle and Esme, his apparent not-mate vampire friend.

               Can you say homewrecker? Ever since you found out that Carlisle was your mate and not Esme's, (the woman who had treated you like another daughter since the day Bella dragged your human self over to their house), you'd been practicing that word. Homewrecker. Homewrecker. Homewrecker.

               Carlisle was a great guy...er, vampire, and let’s be honest, he was not only gorgeous, but kind, compassionate, caring, sweet, gentle, remember mentioning gorgeous?, but, he'd been taken! And quite happily for quite some time.

               Then you walk in, unprepared and unawares and suddenly, BAM!, no more 'I love you, Esme'. Did you ever feel like a heel, or what?

               To make matters worse, assuming they could get worse, you all had been summoned to Volterra. For multiple reasons. Apparently you and Bella being human still was something of a problem and because Carlisle and Esme had marked each other as mates, even though they weren't "true mates", Carlisle was going to be punished. Supposedly, since you were his mate yet he'd marked another and been marked in return, you were the one slighted.

               Quite frankly, you felt as if you should be the one getting punished. You'd just destroyed his and Esme's relationship that they'd had for like...decades!

               What if you didn't want to be the horrible human being who tore people apart?

               A gentle hand on your elbow startled you out of your thoughts and you turned to see Carlisle, looking down at you in concern.

               "There is nothing for you to be worried about, Y/N," he said quietly, with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. You'd seen a lot of that recently. The mating pull, as Edward had explained to you, was in effect, making Carlisle super protective, possessive and worried about you.

               Which was pretty much a dream come true. Who didn’t want a handsome, sensitive, intelligent and caring man fawning over and providing for them?

               But you could see that he wasn't happy about it. He was no longer quite the care-free doctor you’d first met. Now, there was more of a stoop to his shoulders and it weighed heavy on your own heart to know that your mate wasn't content with you. That your mate was actually miserable being with you.

               Apparently this 'mating pull' went both ways. Super.

               The doors before you were suddenly opened and you were all beckoned into the throne room. You walked in beside Carlisle with Esme, Edward and Bella directly behind. You would rather have been just about anywhere other than here under these circumstances.

               Maybe you could just die? Cue mental snort. Okay, so that sounded a bit melodramatic. But...everything would go back to normal then, right? Esme, (whom you'd briefly started to think of as another mother), would get Carlisle back and Carlisle...well, he didn't seem too sold on this whole, 'You’re his mate' thing, so it probably wouldn't be that hard for him to bounce back. Bella would understand since she'd already tried dying multiple times for her loved ones and the rest of the Cullen family weren't incredibly happy with you for stealing their dad away from their mom.... This could work. 'Course, you'd have to make sure Carlisle wouldn't get punished again, but if you made it look like an accident and not that you’d actually died because of this whole mating thing, then he couldn't get into any trouble for it!

               You started to think of all the ways it could happen. Your family hadn't spoken to you since you moved to Forks almost four months ago, so they'd be fine. Stuff like this happens all the time. Well, not the whole 'suicide so your mate and his family can be happy like they were before you showed up', but accidents did happen all the time...

               A low noise brought you out of your thoughts and you looked around, a bit startled at the...growl?...that you could hear. Glancing over at Carlisle, you saw him looking back at Edward in confusion and worry.

               Curiosity peaked, you also turned to look at Eddie and your eyes widened in surprise. He was the one growling and he was....glaring at you? With a dangerous glint to his coal black eyes. You could've sworn they were gold when everyone stepped off the plane. His hunger couldn't be that severe- it’s not like half an hour would suddenly make him ravenous. Besides, all the veggie vamps fed before they boarded the jet to Italy.

               So what the hell was his problem?

               "Edward?" Carlisle asked quietly, his hand once again taking residence on your elbow. Pulling gently, the golden eyed doctor drew your closer to him.

               You had to will yourself not to melt into him. He was only doing this because of the mating pull. He really loved Esme, not you. And soon, he'd be free to love her again.

               Edward's growling suddenly grew louder.

               Your eyes widened and all the blood rushed from your face. Well shit. This whole mind reading thing was a serious pain the ass.

               Putting on your own scowl and matching glare, you turned further to face Edward.

               "Would you get out of my head already?" you demanded. And preferably not tell anyone what you heard since it's really none of your bloody business in the first place, you continued mentally.

               Bella was lucky she had some sort of mental block; what happened to privacy and common decency?!

               "Edward?" Carlisle asked again and when Edward didn't answer, only kept growling, Carlisle turned to you. "Y/N? What's the matter?"

               You turned away from Edward and back to the thrones in front of your procession where the three Volturi kings were seated and staring at you. Really. Floor, just open up and swallow you now.

               "Nothing," you muttered to the doctor. "Eddie just needs to learn personal boundaries." The Carlisle you had met before he'd realized the mating pull would've still been concerned, but dropped the subject since you obviously didn't want to talk about it.

               This new Carlisle who was forced to play dutiful mate, frowned and drew you into his side tighter before asking, "What were you thinking to make him growl like this?"

               You tensed and gave the poor guy a fake, sweet smile.  “If I wanted any of you to know, I wouldn't have thought it, I would've said it out loud."

               You internally winced at how…bitchy that sounded, how cold, but you had to distance yourself and fast. This was the first time that Carlisle had really initiated any sort of contact, especially any type of comfort and it was really starting to mess with you. It was obviously expected of him here in Volterra as your Mate, but you knew that if you weren’t here, he wouldn’t be initiating any kind of contact. Or even speaking to you. He was pretty damn good and avoiding and ignoring you.

                You’d always been drawn to Carlisle, from the beginning, and this sudden forced possessive and protective side to him was beginning to wear you down. If you weren’t careful, you really would be a homewrecker. Right now, you were trying your hardest to respect his wishes and not fall prey to the Pull. But as soon as you let it get to you, you would truly be the monster they all thought you were.

               All you wanted was for him to be happy. Even if it wasn't with you.

               Edward's growls suddenly died off and you gave a small smile, thinking he'd finally seen reason with your line of thinking and this was over.

               Boy, were you wrong.

               Aro had cleared his throat, focusing the attention on him.

               "A very spirited mate you have there, dear friend," was the first thing out of the vampire king's mouth. Carlisle gave a small smile. That once again was a shadow of his former smiles.

               "Thank you, Aro. She will certainly keep me on my toes."

               You mentally snorted again. Sure. But not for much longer.

               Aro suddenly stood and glided down to the group, stopping a few feet away. "My dear friend, I regret having to do this particular ceremony with you, but as is part of our laws and customs, it must be done."

               Carlisle inclined his head. "I understand, Aro. And I appreciate your sentiments on the matter."

               You felt your throat start to close up at the thought of Carlisle's punishment, whatever it would be, just because he marked and was marked in return by the women he loves. How was that fair?

               Your attention was suddenly diverted back to Aro as he took a few steps forward to stand in front of you.

               "My dear, if you would step up next to me?" he asked, holding out a hand. You'd heard about Aro's gift and mentally cursed. Great. All your ideas that you hadn't even finished yet, would be heard by yet another mind reader. But maybe there was a way to block certain thoughts? Edward had told Bella and yourself that Aro could hear every thought you'd ever had. Past tense. So maybe if you continued thinking your plans, they wouldn't be able to be seen...?

               It was worth a try. Not like it would hurt anything. If it failed, well, he would be able to see anything either way.

               So, with a deep breath, and more low growls from Edward, you stepped forward, placing your hand in Aro's.

               Surprisingly gentle, the vampire king pulled your away from the half of the Cullen coven and up towards the thrones. You had made it to the base of the stairs leading up to the other two kings when Aro suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, (no pun intended), and swiftly turned to stare at you.

               Because that wasn’t intimidating at all.

               Judging by the now tense atmosphere in the room, apparently this wasn't part of the normal proceedings.

               "Brother?" one of the kings, Marcus perhaps?, asked in a quiet voice. Still staring unblinking at you, Aro didn't answer for a moment.

               "Aro?" Carlisle asked, worry prominent in his voice. You tried to smother the wince that crossed your face, couldn’t you do anything right?, but judging by Aro's suddenly sharper gaze, you were pretty sure you failed. Apparently, he'd also read all your thoughts from just a little while ago, so change that fail to an Epic Fail.

               When did your life turn into this? Who did you piss off in a past life to deserve this?

               "Brother," Aro suddenly asked, seeming to snap out of his stupor and continuing you both up the stairs to his throne, "what do their lines look like?"

               Nobody in the room needed to have 'their' clarified and everyone waited with baited breath to see what Marcus would discover.

               Seeming to zone out for a few moments, Marcus' eyes suddenly refocused and he answered, "They are strong, brother. But not as strong as other true mates."

               All eyes turned to look at you. Edward's brows were drawn into a deep glare and you uncomfortably looked away. The family would either hate you because you were with their 'dad' or hate you because you freed him from your bond. Either way, there was no way to win.

               "Hm," Aro murmured thoughtfully, "I wonder if it is because she is human or because of...something else." He threw a significant look to you that you ignored the best you could.

               Edward started growling again.

               "Aro," Carlisle's voice growled out, impatient. "What is going on with my mate?"

               "I think, my dear friend, that that is a question best left for said mate to answer. However, first, I believe our ceremony should get underway."

               Immediately, all the Cullen's stiffened. Only Bella and yourself remained unaware to what exactly that meant.

               "Y/N," Aro said suddenly, taking a seat in his throne and gently pulling you to stand beside him, "your mate, Carlisle has marked and been marked in return by another. Now, as a human, you probably do not feel as insulted as a vampire would, for this is one of the worst things that a true mate can do to another. The highest form of cheating our world has."

               Carlisle's head bowed down as if under a huge weight and Esme looked from him to you with shiny eyes. Tears? Great, as if you didn't feel awful before...

               "As his actual mate," Aro continued when you didn't say anything, "you get to decide how he should be punished."

               It was quiet for a moment before you suddenly blinked and snapped your head down to meet Aro’s ruby eyes. "What? Me?"

               The vampire king nodded. "Yes, you. You were the one slighted and so, you are the one to demand the compensation. We've seen a few cases of this over the centuries. Some vampires have their mates tortured to teach them a lesson, others have had their mates kill the vampire they mistakenly marked while a few have even had their mates killed."

               Your eyes, which had gotten progressively wider now threatened to pop out of your head. Why was everything so violent with these people? You were suddenly even more thankful that you weren’t a vampire... You didn't want to feel the need to have Carlisle do any of those things!

               "Since you are human, my guard is at your disposal for whichever method you choose that you cannot fulfill yourself. Of course, you don't have to do any of those options. You are free to choose whatever you wish."

               You were silent as you stared at the Cullen's, mind racing to try and find a way that would appease the ceremony but that didn't involve hurting anybody. Especially Carlisle.

               It’s not like it was his fault that he found a woman and fell in love with her! Granted, it wasn’t your fault either that your eyes met, but maybe, you could fix it for him? After all, what kind of future could you have with Carlisle if he hated you for taking away his freedom and choice of mate?

               "Might I suggest the second option that other slighted mates have used in the past?" Aro spoke up after a few minutes of you trying to figure out what to do.

               Your eyes snapped back to his. "The option where you have your mate kill the woman he marked that was not you,” Aro continued with a barely concealed smirk. “I do believe this will solve quite a lot in this case."

               You’re not sure where you got the guts to do it, but you glared heatedly down at Aro's smirking face. He knew of your half baked plan to get Carlisle and Esme back together and was just saying that to get a rise out of the Cullen's.

               And boy, did it work.

               Bella gasped while Esme's eyes shot to yours. She quickly averted her gaze, though you could see her hands trembling. Edward was looking at you with an unreadable expression and Carlisle... Carlisle looked miserable and heartbroken. He honestly thought...they all honestly thought that you would...

               You felt tears sting your eyes. Did they really have so little faith in you? Think so little of you that they thought you would have Carlisle tear apart the women he loves because they had marked each other? Were you really that awful of a person to them? You didn't choose to be his mate! You didn't mean to take him away from anybody!

               A stubborn tear broke free and languidly trailed down the side of your face.

               Edward's face bore the softest expression you'd ever seen pointed in your direction and you shut your eyes to block him out. You didn't need his pity. Or anybody else’s.

               Taking a shaky breath, you drew your shoulders back. You’d made your decision.

               You opened your eyes and with as much courage as you could muster, you looked down to meet the expectant eyes of the Vampire King seated in his throne beside you.

               “Kill me instead,” you murmured quietly, though you knew that every vampire in the room could hear you if the sudden deafening silence was any indication.

               The smirk that had been playing around Aro’s mouth disappeared and he sat up even straighter.

               “What was that?” he asked, voice still friendly with faux cheer, but with an undercurrent of disbelief.

               You took a deep breath, before repeating even quieter, “I choose to be killed myself.”

               You weren’t able to keep eye contact with Aro for very long – those ruby eyes were boring into you and making you uncomfortable and self conscious.

               And you didn’t dare look over to the Cullens. You weren’t sure what expressions would be on their faces, but if you saw any relief from Carlisle or Esme that their Problem would soon be taken care of… You just couldn’t see their happiness at your death. It would crush you more than you already were.

               A loud snarl suddenly tore through the throne room and you jumped, head snapping towards the Cullens.

               Edward was furious.

               Eyes jet black and wild, fangs elongated and rage painted across his face, he truly looked the Vampire he was.

               “This is all your fault!” he roared at his sire, spittle flying from his lips as he advanced on Carlisle.

               Aro shifted as if to intervene, but surprisingly, the King on the other side of you, Marcus, rose first and was suddenly standing before Carlisle and Esme.

               The tension in the room skyrocketed and even Edward quickly backed down in the midst of the fury the brunette king was radiating, instead settling a bit and flashing over to Bella to draw her into his arms and soothe her as she was a bit lost over what was happening and the reason for Edward’s rage.

               “Your Bond Mate is wishing for Death,” Marcus growled out, seeming to grow even angrier when Bella gasped, horrified that you would ask for that, “and yet, you stand here, passive and quiet! Bond Mates are truly the most precious thing we have in this eternal life and you would toss yours aside to have her wallow in self doubt and loathing so you can continue a charade that has no future whatsoever!”

               Marcus’ hoarse voice had risen at the end and rang through the throne room. You were slack jawed standing by Aro’s throne – this was not the depressed and silent King that Edward had described. He was supposed to not care or pay attention to the goings on in the world.

               A quick glance around at the guards standing along the walls showed their own disbelief and wonder at the change in their King.

               What was going on?

               Something cold brushed against your hand and you looked down to see Aro’s fingers leaving your hand and then he was on his feet and growling…something that you couldn’t make out.

               But judging by the darkening look on Edward’s face and the fact that Carlisle and Esme had blanched, you figured he was telling everyone the thoughts that had been running through your head.

               Lovely.

               “I don’t want pity,” you muttered to yourself, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes to stave off any more tears. “I just…want this to stop.”

               Surprisingly, yet another voice answered you and when you looked up, you were shocked to see it was the blonde, angry King, Caius speaking in your direction, while Marcus was still growling lowly at Carlisle and Esme.

               “Being angry, and rightfully so, at the atrocities committed by the Cullens in regard to you is not pity. My brother,” he gestured to Marcus, “had a Bonded and lost her. Aro and I have our own Mates whom we love dearly and would die for. To have Carlisle willingly neglect you is insulting, shameful and the height of idiocy.” Here he turned his attention from you to Aro. “I told you, brother, the Cullens are a waste of venom.”

               Caius’ ruby eyes bored into Edward and he gave a slight smirk. “Well, most of them anyhow.”

               “Aro,” Carlisle finally spoke up, voice soft and hesitant and you held back a shudder as best you could. The growls you could hear ratcheted up a notch and you really couldn’t decide if it was comforting or scary to have more than one vampire pissed for your sake.

               “My dear friend,” Aro interrupted Carlisle before he could say anything else, “when I heard of what had happened, with you finding your mate, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. After all, you have been alone for many years, and even though Marcus had informed you of your Bonded lines, I thought that maybe, you had just…lost patience. A remarkable feat for you, but it has been known to happen to other vampires, though none have had your control and restraint.”

               You felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs – Carlisle knew that he had a Mate? He knew that you were coming? Maybe not when you were going to show up or who exactly you were, (though Alice should have seen you, right?) but…he knew he had a mate? And that Esme wasn’t it? You felt your legs start to shake and a few more tears spilled down your cheeks. He…he hadn’t even tried to give you a chance. He’d already made up his mind about his mate before he’d even met you!

               Did…did Alice tell him about you? Did he decide that you weren’t worth it? Did you know how messed up you were, how you hadn’t always made the best choices, and just…didn’t want to deal with your shortcomings and failures? Did he not think you worthy enough of him?

               Cold hands were suddenly guiding you down into what felt like a throne, but you were too numb to care who or where, instead trying to figure out where you went wrong and how this could happen to you. You never wanted this to begin with, but for Carlisle to know and still not care… It’s not like having a mate would have blindsided him - He was expecting it!

               “But,” Aro had continued, voice steely and it would have frightened you had you been paying more attention, “to now have the full story, to know that you have been neglecting and blaming your Intended, that your – what do you call them, family? – has been harassing and abusing your Mate, pushing her to contemplate suicide and Death by our hands and you did nothing… Well, I do believe that it is time for the Volturi to step in and select your punishment.”

               Esme’s gasp pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see her and Carlisle looking at you, their eyes pleading.

               “Y/N,” Carlisle suddenly said shakily, “If you can find it in your heart-“

               When you flinched at his begging tone, deafening roars sounded out.

               Carlisle was suddenly prone on the floor, a snarling Aro on top of him while Esme was already half dismembered by a furious Marcus.

               Edward had flashed away with Bella, coming to stand next to you, but his growling was still one of the loudest in the room.

               “How dare you?!” Aro thundered, eyes black as pitch and his entire being radiating menace and danger. “You throw your Bond in your Intended’s face until you feel that she can save you? We have been far too lenient with you, Cullen sire and it has cost her dearly. Let me be clear: there will be no saving you and Esme now.”

               You swallowed as Marcus continued to tear Esme apart and Aro was poised over one of Carlisle’s limbs.

               “Wait,” you said shakily, feeling drained yet determined. This…was not what you had in mind. Carlisle and Esme weren’t supposed to get hurt! You were the one who was going to disappear forever so they could be together.

               You couldn’t have their deaths or pain on your conscience!

               “They don’t deserve you,” Edward said quietly from beside you, suddenly kneeling by the throne in which you sat. “They don’t deserve any of your kindness or your sacrifice. They have made their decision and it wasn’t the right one. Now they have to pay the price for it.”

               “How can following your heart be wrong?” you whispered, another tear slipping down your face. For all his faults and horrible attitude to you, you were drawn to Carlisle and you just didn’t want him hurt or upset. How would torturing or killing him and Esme be the right thing to do? Just because he went with his heart and not with the Bond?

               “That Cullen is not following his heart,” Caius snorted from the other side of the throne and you jerked your head over to look at him. “He is simply too muddled, idiotic and soft to think like a proper vampire. Once Bond Mates’ eyes meet, there is no other – for either one of them. You feel a pull towards him, correct?”

               You nodded, a bit ashamed that you felt something towards Carlisle while he obviously felt nothing towards you.

               “If you, as a human, feel the Pull, what do you think he would feel, as a vampire? As much as he may deny it, and as much as it pains me to say it, Carlisle is a vampire. He feels the Pull the same way Aro and myself do, as Marcus did when Didyme was alive. There is no other for him – there never will be another. Him clinging to his relationship with Esme is nothing more than stubbornness and malice at this point, designed to not only hurt you who would dare to remind him that he is prey to the same vices as the rest of the Vampire world, but also in a last ditch effort to deny that which he is. Death would be a kindness to him, at this point. He is obviously not happy being a vampire and cannot be expected to help create anyone else’s happiness either.”

               You knew you were gaping a bit at the blonde next to you, but seriously, how could you not? The King that Hates Humans just basically gave you a reassuring pep talk?

               …What?

               A loud screeching noise jerked your attention back to the other two Kings and Carlisle and Esme, the latter completely dismembered.

               “Y/N!” Carlisle tried once more, golden eyes large, frightened and locked on your own, but Aro was quick to wrench his head from his shoulders.

               “Quite enough of that, I think,” the telepathic mind reader said nonchalantly, seeming back to his friendly and flamboyant personality.

               How many personalities did he have, exactly?

               Within moments, the rest of Carlisle followed suit; arms and legs yanked out of sockets and feet and hands separated from ankles and wrists.

               Part of you wanted to look away – they were destroying your Mate and his Marked in front of you! – but a larger part of you felt…vindicated.

               “As you should,” Edward said darkly from beside you, still cradling Bella to him as she watched on as well, brown eyes almost greedily taking in the destruction of the two Cullen leaders.

               “You have done no wrong, Y/N,” Edward continued, “and the fact that you wished for death…” He trailed off, closing his eyes that were once again black and leaning down to inhale Bella’s scent in an obvious effort to calm himself.

               “It is beyond despicable,” Caius grunted, heading back to his throne as Marcus and Aro regally ascended back up the stairs to the throne. A carelessly waved hand had the guards suddenly moving to dispose of the remains of Carlisle and Esme – permanently if the muttered remark about ‘matches’ gave any indication. They would not be leaving this castle again.

               Aro stopped in front of his throne, the one that you were currently occupying and you suddenly straightened, moving to stand and remove yourself from his seat.

               Another carelessly waved hand had you settling gingerly back down as Aro shocked you once again by taking a seat on the top step in front of you.

               “Now that that…unfortunate business is taken care of,” he began with a large smile and childish-like glee, “it is time to get to know one another a bit better!”

               You blinked once. Twice. Three times.

               “What?”

               Edward had also taken a seat, placing himself beside the throne with Bella pulled into his lap.

               “Aro, perhaps now is not the best time,” he suggested quietly, casting you a look that had your hackles raising a bit.

               Damn mind readers. Yes, you were human and yes, you had literally just asked to be killed not twenty minutes ago, but you weren’t fragile!

               “What on earth do you need to know that you haven’t already read in my mind?” you asked, beyond confused as to why one of the most powerful vampires in the world would want anything to do with you now that you’d pretty much made him kill one of his oldest friends.

               Edward thew a growl in your direction that had Aro impatiently holding out a hand to read Edward’s mind.

               And then Aro was growling softly at you.

               “You did not make me do anything, Y/N,” he said firmly, eyes narrowing. “What Carlisle did was inexcusable. And rest assured, when the rest of his Coven is destroyed as well, that too, will not be your fault.”

               You blanched at the easy way in which he talked about destroying Carlisle’s entire family.

               “What?! Why are they being destroyed?”

               All the vampires left in the room, even the few guards remaining, gave you a disbelieving look.

               You blushed. Okay, that was a pretty stupid question considering that they were just as bad, if not worse, than Carlisle. But still…a whole coven destroyed because of you?

               You slunk down in the throne a bit, feeling like the weight of the world was on your shoulders.

               Why couldn’t you have just had a happy ending? No deaths, no dismemberment, no misery? Just…happiness?

               “Because my sire was an idiot,” Edward said quietly to you, eyes once again a bright golden and focused on you. “This is in no way your fault, Y/N. You just had…a run of bad luck.”

               Your snort was echoed by one from Caius.

               “All of your coven mates fall under the description of ‘bad luck’,” the blonde mocked.

               “Why do you despise the Cullens?” Bella asked quietly from Edwards lap.

               To your surprise, Caius not only answered but gave her his undivided attention.

               “No real vampire would neglect who they are fundamentally. They wouldn’t feed off of animals, they wouldn’t feel shame for being who they are and they certainly wouldn’t neglect one of the very basic instincts of all vampires: Bond Mates.”

               “But…why is it bad that some vampires drink from animals? If it makes their life easier?” Bella asked, voice a little stronger now that the King was actually answering her.

               “It’s not the actual animal drinking that’s the problem,” Caius said darkly, “it’s the reason behind it. These ‘vegetarian’ vampires are ashamed to be what they are. They look down on those that have different feeding styles because they feel they are monsters. There are a lot of vampires that prey off of the scum of your human societies – the murders, molesters, rapists, thieves. And yet, they are villainized by those too weak to keep themselves from slaughtering Innocents when they are overwhelmed by scents because they are too used to barely scraping by on animals. There is no shame in being a vampire. Even those as noble as Carlisle have faults that can be greater than those they look down on.”  

               You stole a glance at Edward, finding him looking thoughtful at Caius’ explanation, rather than defensive or angry. Bella too.

               You gave a small smile, feeling your adoration for the two grow. They had been so kind to you, your rocks during all of this. You really could never repay them.

               “And you don’t have to,” Edward said quietly and you gave a watery laugh.

               Damn mind readers.

               Maybe this would be okay, you not having a Mate anymore. Perhaps there would be someone else out there for you. Someone you could actually have love you in return?

               “Perhaps,” Aro said suddenly, and you saw his hand drop from Edward’s once again, “we can keep you here in Volterra for awhile. Make sure there are no lasting side effects from your Mate’s…sudden demise. And perhaps we can see about finding you someone who can show you what a True Mate should be like, hm?”

               You looked at Aro in confusion.

               The black haired monarch gave a serene smile and leaned forward.

               “Tell me, my dear. Have you ever heard of a vampire named Garrett?”

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

04: CHOCOLATE

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: real life, my dudes, it’s real life. (well, after a lil texting sequence.) writing drew is actually hard, believe it or not, and i edited this chapter right after finishing chapter 14 -- and the difference is huge. i’m really excited! as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and tell me what you thought!

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drewstarkey | 10:53am Hey! I’ll be running a little late, so meet you at quarter past noon?

addisonmallory | 11:07am That's okay, I would’ve been late, too lol

drewstarkey | 11:08am Okay cool so it’s not just me hahah

addisonmallory | 11:09am Nope, I’ve got a reputation ngl

drewstarkey | 11:11am Let’s see who’s the worse one, then 😂

addisonmallory | 11:14am It’s on 😎

◇

It takes all in Addie to keep Marianne from tagging along. If the French-Brit is anything, it’s stubborn and persistent, which Addie claims to be the worst two stereotypical traits she could’ve picked up from the two cultures – and they both know she’s right.

  ‘I won’t bother you,’ says Marianne, looking at Addie through her rose-tinted sunglasses. ‘I’ll just be behind you. You won’t even know I’m there!’

  Addie sighs and leans sideways against the doorway. Marianne’s foot is blocking the door from closing, and this is all dragging out way beyond rational.

  ‘Marianne, I’m going there for literally five minutes. It’s not a big deal.’

  ‘He’s a famous actor.'

  ‘He’s not even that famous. I met him in a fucking Tesco, Marianne!’

  The look she receives for that statement is scorching – but the edge in the girl’s eyebrow relaxes, and Marianne gives way to one of her quiet sighs. ‘Fine. Whatever. Go have fun.’

  ‘Thanks,’ says Addie; a weak attempt to keep the bitter tone at bay.

  The door shuts with a bang – she waits until she hears faint footsteps disappearing into the heart of the apartment. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Marianne, but the girl usually lives in her own world and tends to disregard the common notions of what would be okay in a situation like this. Addie doesn't hold it against her. She can’t hold who Marianne is against herself.

  With this now over and done with, Addie walks down two flights of stairs and exits the building. It’s a sunny day, just like it was yesterday, and she takes some pride in the fact that she’s got her contacts in, and sunglasses, and a face that doesn’t look like somebody tortured her for a week. There’s a spring to her step even if she tries to control it, and really, Addie just feels great.

  Although, she still can’t believe she’s about to meet up with Drew Starkey to exchange phones because he got startled and gave her the wrong one.

  She doesn’t even have the damn photo they took together.

  The thought makes her laugh, and relax a little, and somehow it clicks in her head that Drew really is just a regular guy, susceptible to ridiculous shitty things happening to him just like everyone else. It calms her on her walk down to Tesco, even when it’s a few minutes after they’ve agreed on meeting up and he's still not here. 

  Expected, really. He did say he’d be late, after all.

  When he finally walks out of the car, she doesn’t realise it’s him, at first. The car he’s driving is a silver Toyota, looking a little older than she'd expect. He parks it a couple dozen feet away from her, and the only reason she even takes note of the car is because it’s similar to the one her high school friends used to drive when they were all still back in town. Her eyes land on the dark-haired figure inside the car and recognises him only when the Atlanta sun shines its light on him, making the brown strands appear almost blonde, blonde structure framed by the sun’s gentleness.

  Something in Addie flutters. It’s not butterflies, but the feeling of excitement at the prospect of an adventure, or something entirely surreal yet about to happen.

  Drew’s face breaks into a smile as warm as summer itself at the sight of her. She gives a little wave, clutching his phone in her hands. It takes him a couple of seconds to cross the distance between them, and he joins her under the shade.

  ‘Hi,’ he says.

  ‘Hi.’ Addie grins back, the sheer lack of knowing what to do bringing heat to her cheeks. ‘Nice car you got there. My friend had the same one.’

  He glances at the car with pride in his eyes, nodding. ‘Yeah, she’s a badass. Stuck with me through thick and thin.’

  ‘You got the AC?’

  ‘Yeah, I had it installed a few years back, when I moved here. Your friend didn’t?’

  ‘Nope.’ Addie shakes her head, sighing at the mere thought of the days she spent roasting in that car during midsummer roadtrips. ‘Some AC would be good right now. I walked here and honestly, I pretty much melted off. Even wearing this.’

  The girl grabs a handful of the dress below her waist, the lower part of the lightest fabric she could find in her closet. It’s an ordinary summer dress meant for beaches and walks under the Mediterranean sun, light blue with flowers scattered all over it, and reaching just to her knees when still. The day is windy, so the fabric sways on the wind, pulling itself a little higher, instead.

  Drew chuckles at her comment and makes one about misjudging the temperature and choosing to wear long jeans instead of shorts, and stops himself mid sentence. ‘Ah, fuck.’ 

  Addie recognises the sigh and the eyeroll, and figures something’s up even before he runs his fingers through his hair, saying, 'I forgot something. I'll be right back.'

  Before she manages to mutter ‘Okay’, he’s making a beeline for his car. She watches him take something out of the glove compartment and he’s back within seconds, holding one of the biggest Hershey’s chocolate bars Addie has ever seen, and her phone is on top of it. She lets out a small chuckle, feeling her eyebrows come closer.

  Drew holds the two in front of her, scratching the back of his neck with the other hand. ‘This is a little something for the inconvenience. And – and as congratulations, you know, for getting the internship.’

  ‘Oh my god, you didn’t need to buy me a chocolate,’ Addie says, voice high pitched in a combination of laughter and disbelief.

  ‘No, I did. Just – just take it, okay?’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  Addie’s fingers wrap around the chocolate and she slips her phone into her pocket, handing him his. It feels odd—this whole interaction does—and she has the stupidly childish need to stare at her feet, but she makes herself look up at him, and he does the same once he glances briefly at his phone, putting it into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s squinting a little, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the sun and the fact that he’s not wearing sunglasses, or because that way it's easier to mask the awkwardness she knows he’s also feeling.

  She offers him a smile, earnest as he can, and sees his shoulders drop a little.

  The smile he gives in return is so genuinely apologetic that Addie finds it sweet – contagious, too.

  ‘Look, I really am sorry about this whole thing. I know I keep apologising, but I mean it. The chocolate was the least I could’ve done.’

  ‘And it’s more than enough,’ she reassures him. ‘Honestly. You’re all good. It’s not like you tried to steal my phone.’ She squints at him, jokingly, and crosses her arms on her chest. ‘Unless...?’

  It makes him laugh, wide and bright, and his hair moves gently as his head shakes. ‘Fuck no. I’m not skilled enough for that.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re driving an old Toyota that does’'t even come with an AC. Not good enough for a thief.’

  Drew’s laughter persists, and Addie lets herself relax a little. She leans against the tree with the side of her body, a little tired of being on her feet for so long, one of her hands stuck in her pocket and the other holding onto the chocolate that's getting softer between her fingers and her palm.

  The man in front of her glances around with an edge to it, just like he did back inside the supermarket.

  ‘I should get going,’ he says. ‘It’s an interview week, so…’

  Addie smiles. ‘Yeah, it’s cool. Thanks for bringing my phone back.’

  ‘Once again, I’m really—’

  ‘Okay. It was nice seeing you again. I can’t hear you apologise one more time so I’m going to leave.’

  She considers turning on her heel and pretending to walk away, but she only takes a single step back and gives him a cheeky grin, instead. Drew is staring at her, squinting a little, probably because she’s all in the sun now and her dress is more than a little reflective.

  He raises two fingers, gives her a little salute. ‘Bye, then.’

  Addie repeats the word, mimicking his gesture.

  Drew grins at that and it’s the last she sees of his face, as he turns toward his car and walks away. He waves at her driving out of the parking lot, while Addie fumbles with her headphones and her phone, and she waves back.

  The moment he’s out of sight, she walks back under the tree, completely leaning her back against it. The breeze is enjoyable now, something between comfortable and warm, and Addie feels her heart thumping in her chest. Her eyes flutter and a shaky breath leaves her lungs, lips curling into a smile. Her hands may not be sweaty, but she feels sweaty all around, and knows she should be getting home as fast as possible because of the chocolate she’s holding, but she just... she can’t.

  It’s not like Addie Mallory to get her head spinning at the sight of a boy – far from it. In fact, she likes to think of herself as an experienced person with a level-headed, realistic perspective on life and everything that constitutes. She’s put her career and future first for years now, and this is the first time she feels like she’s taking baby steps when talking to someone new, instead of striding. 

  Except, be as it is, Drew Starkey isn’t just someone new. Even if Addie is used to meeting people of far more importance than her, it’s usually in her line of business, and it’s usually people she knows what to expect from. This is someone who she feels like she knows what to expect from except he breaks all those expectations with ease. 

  It’s far from being the same, so Addie allows herself to be okay with her heart racing, palms sweating, and just getting overall excited like a schoolgirl. This doesn’t make her any less mature or her priorities any less set in stone.

  As Addie goes into her text messages, rereads the one from Harry Martin, she realises that her life definitely took a 180 the day before. She texts him back, letting him know she’s available whenever and apologising for the late reply. Her phone rests against her chest, warm and familiar.

  She’s glad to have it back.

  But, even if she’s having a hard time admitting it, she’s not glad that her story with Drew is over.

◇

05: TOMFOOLERY

tagging. @jjmaybanksbaby​​ @taiter-tots​​ @sacredto​​ @snkkat​​ @drewswannabegirl​​ @yeslifeofateen​​ @rudypnkw​​ @stfukie​​ @x-lulu​​ @sacredto​​ @drewstarkey​​ @butgilinsky​​ @solllaris​​ @hyperactive2411​​ @chasefreakinstokes​​  @surferkie​ @jroseron​ @k-k0129​

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms- In the Flesh.

Part 16

No editing, we die like men: ill prepared and confused. Did I read this over even once before posting? Nope.

Warnings back fully into effect. Have triggers? Just go ahead and avoid this. Don't want to spoil anything, so I wont say which, but guys, you've seen my other chapters for this. You know better.

This was actually fun to write with my weird view point that's both in the moment and yet so disconnected.

CLOSED list of hooligans: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Following Damian back into the living room, she saw the group all gathered around their phones, whispering amongst themselves. Approaching soundlessly, she peeked over Juleka's shoulder, catching sight of the screen at the same time Jason did. 

The Joker. He had escaped Arkham once more and now held a broadcast, obviously attempting to get the attention of the Batman. Apparently he set up a new game for them to play. To make matters worse, the prize for winning? The return of Robin. A young looking boy in a different form of the Robin suit was shown for only a moment, glaring at the camera in his face. The timer was set and the broadcast cut. 

That location, it was far closer to their own location than the Wayne manor. Bruce wouldn't make it. It was her and Jason all over again. 

Jason.

Turning on her heel, she took a deep breath and swallowed hard to settle the anger rising in her throat and took command.

"Damian, see to Jason, keep him calm. The pit is about to take hold," she spoke calmly, Damian nodded and lead the taller man away as she turned towards the group watching her every move, "I'm setting out. Jason is likely to come with me. You'll watch over Damian in my absence. I do not expect any of the kwamis to wish to transform with me, but if you decide to, you'll need to be morally ambiguous unlike Tikki or Plagg. Neither of us will be held back or redirected. You'll have to accept whatever comes of this," looking away from the kwamis and to the bristling teens in front of her, she hardened her gaze, "Unless one of you has experience with the Lazarus Pits and their effects, you will stay away from either of us or that building. Judging by the gasps I hear from the kwamis, they will enforce this for me if you decide not to heed my words."

Stalking into her room once more, she started to drag out bags, open compartments in drawers, pull off seemingly decorative pieces from the walls. Longg approached her carefully from the side.

"I will transform with you. The others would feel more comfortable if one of you were superpowered and I'm morally gray unlike the main set."

Nodding, she took his piece carefully, "I need you to make my suit stealthy. I will not be caught due to bright colors."

"The suit will match your will," he reassured.

Transforming, she took in the multiple shades of grey and black lining her body in waves, selective holding pouches hidden within the fabric. Placing her knives about her body, she found a retractable bladed staff along her thigh. Perfect, one less large piece to carry. 

Grabbing a mask, she slipped out to find Jason mostly calm. Taking his hand in hers, she led him to the bathroom and handed him his own clothes back from the league missions.

"He won't be transforming?" Marc inquired.

"His body is more riddled with madness. It's less than it would be had his soul been dipped as mine has, but I've had time to tame and curb the insanity. He hasn't. Add superpowers to the mix?"

"He'll level a city," Plagg spoke up.

"Exactly."

"And you're taking him with you?" Kagami growled out, obviously against the idea.

"Would you rather I leave him here so he can accidently kill one of you and hate himself for the rest of his life? Besides, he has no attachment towards Damian yet. I'm not risking it," her tone brokered no arguments and Jason emerged in that moment. He immediately went into her room and pulled out a gun from her side drawer, muscle memory letting him navigate the place as his own. He put it in the holster on his thigh and went towards her equipment, still out and waiting for him, sifting through until he found a larger set of machetes, grabbing them and a second mask before rejoining her at the window to the fire escape. With just a glance towards the other they knew their minds were in sync.

"Damian, stay and watch them," Jason ordered, the kid nodding at his given mission, turning towards the team with crossed arms. 

With that, they climbed out and took off across the rooftops.

…

The run went by in a blur of motion neither could remember. Now they crouched on the edge of the building the Joker was supposedly in, scoping out the entrances. She could feel Jason practically vibrating at her side and traced spirals along his spine to keep him mentally in place.

"Shhh, focus on my instructions Jason. Those voices aren't as important as our own," she murmured, finding an unguarded door. The idiot never used obvious doors, so of course the clown wasn't focused on them as much as the windows, basement and roof access. The door she found looked like an old employee entrance, easily overlooked. 

"Jay?" Before she could finish the inquiry, he moved forward and picked the lock, letting them in, keeping in front of her.

"Based on the lighting in that video, I'd guess they're keeping him further up. What do you think?"

"Likely midway up, seventh or eighth level."

They skirted their way up staircases, quietly knocking out anyone they found on their way up. Occasionally they stopped to practice deep breaths, as the further up they went, the more vivid the green in their eyes glowed. Both could sense the impending catalyst and tried to press the insanity back. They wanted this to be on their own terms.

At about the sixth level, Jason found himself having to hold Mari back, having almost torn out a guys throat for simply struggling too much in the takedown. 

"Not worth it. Not yet."

Breathing heavily, the voices dropped back to reasonable levels, allowing their continued movement. Mari found herself meditating as they went, recentering herself. One of them had to stay fully self aware and she knew it had to be her. Jason needed someone to watch out for him in his first true rush, not to panic in the middle when no one could hold them back. She would be there the way Talia had been for her. As Damian normally was.

At the ninth floor, they found their target.

Marinette felt borderline insulted at the difference in treatment.

The current Robin was swinging upside down, bound in rope and gagged. 

They had been chained to an operation table, beaten to a pulp with every moment too long the bat took. This boy didn't even have a guard on him. Sure, there were boobytraps set all over the damn place that they painstakingly dismantled one at a time, but even still. Not a scratch on the kid's face. Shaking the thought, Mari chided herself. Her anger was reserved for the people who put them in this situation, not some boy that was obviously dragged into the adults' personal issues. She knew when they escaped and the madness leveled out, relief for his unharmed state would course through her like a tidal wave. For now, she felt contempt and resignation. When the last trap finally fell apart, they heard his voice.

"Batsy! So you finally decide to show on time for one of your pretty birds?" It called, still not in view.

Jason bristled in her peripheral and she yanked him around quickly to focus in on her, aware of the hanging kid's eyes trained on them.

"Save Robin. He can't. He won't. We know this. Do what he didn't for us. Save. Him."

Jason's pupils blew under the mask and a growl tore from his throat as he turned towards the masked child, letting the anger direct itself into righting the injustice done unto him.

Marinette turned back towards the voice, creeping forward, bladed staff withdrawn and extended. She watched its shadow as it twisted along the walls. Finally, it turned the wrong corner and she slammed the side of the staff against him, letting the staff glide along their body as they were forced back, the tip catching their chest and opening a gash through his suit.

Joker jolted, gasping and confused, "You're not Batsy."

A feral grin grew upon her face, "No, but I'm so much more fun, wouldn't you say?" she activated wind dragon, blowing him further back across the room until he stumbled and fell onto his back. He quickly grabbed up a device and smiled maniacally, holding it up to view, starting a spiel about what it would do if he pressed this particular button, blah blah blah. She wasn't here for his rambling. Activating electric dragon, she launched herself into the device, shorting it out into a useless hunk of metal. Reappearing in front of him, she drew out her blades, only to hear quiet feet land in the room over. 

"And what exactly did you have in mind, girly?" He asked, licking at the corner of his mouth in a weird tic sort of a way. 

Placing a grin to rival his own across her face, she tilted her head, "It is not what I'll do that should concern you. Rather, what I'll allow him to do," she watched annoyed confusion flicker across the clownesque features as Jason appeared at her side, a second set seeming to approach her from behind. Reaching back, one hand grabbed a thin shoulder in a harsh grip to keep the kid in his place, the other went to her side to grip a broad shoulder in a more crushing grip to keep Jason from moving too soon. She turned and looked into masked, violently green eyes.

"Do you want to?" A nod. "Will you regret it?" A shake. "Will you take back your mind when it's over?" Another nod. "He's all yours, Bird. Get it out of your system, find me when you're done." A growl.

She let go and turned towards the kid, bodily backing him up into the other room, out of view.

"You don't want to see this."

"Who are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I'll figure it out either way. Be nice if you made it easy though."

"Hmm, how does one become a Robin? Oh yeah, the previous one either leaves or dies."

"You don't mean," the kid's eyes widen.

"He shouldn't of allowed another one. Isn't one child dying for his cause enough?"

"It's not like that," he grew defensive.

"Isn't it though? Whether you wanted it or not, if anything happens to you, it's because he decided another child could fight actual murderers."

"That's beside the point, I need to stop them," he tried to push past her only for her to activate wind dragon and pick him straight up and out of the building to another rooftop, letting him go at the top, though grabbing his grapple as she reformed.

"Do you recognize this part of the city?"

"What are you doing? Let me back in there," he sounded panicked.

"Breath, little bird. Do you recognize where we are?"

"I- yes. I recognize it."

"Do you know how far it is from Wayne Manor?"

"What does that-" he attempted playing dumb.

"Do you?"

"Of course I do!"

"I know you do. You're a smart little bird. Very well learned. You know how long it takes to get here from the Manor as well don't you? And what time the broadcast went up?"

The kid's face darkened, and while he obviously didn't want to admit it, he could obviously make the calculations.

"He wouldn't have made it on time."

"It was on purpose. Joker wants to remind him of his greatest failure," the teen, she realized, rationalized.

"Batman isn't the only one Joker reminded. People don't take kindly to reminders of their dying day."

"So you two are?"

"Undead? In a funny way, yes. And absolutely riddled with destructive insanity."

"You don't seem it."

"I've had time to repress it. Learn control and stability. Him, not so much. This is his first relapse. There's no preventing it. Only directing it. I figure taking out an actual child murderer, who has tortured and ended the life of hundreds, including the sick and dying would be an alright outlet."

"It's immoral."

"We both know the only reason Bruce won't kill is that he wouldn't stop once he started. He'd lose control entirely. It's nothing to do with morality. Otherwise he wouldn't turn a blind eye to the select hits Alfred made in his time."

"How do you know so much?"

"How do you?"

"I figured it out on my own and decided for him."

"Very clever of you. But you didn't decide for him, he let you and took advantage of your determination. I'm sure in more ways than this one." She picked his arguments apart, remembering the way Talia detached Damian from herself. She didn't like the idea of manipulating a kid into disowning his own family, but a toxic situation was still toxic. She'd contact Alfred later to get back in touch as well as a better read on the situation.

As the teen became frustrated once more, he moves towards her to get back his gear only for Jason to drop next to them, breathing heavily with blood dripping down his arms and from the blades across his back, down onto his legs and the ground surrounding.

He seemed to slowly come back from the insanity, leaning into her, "I killed him. Fuck, I killed him," he gasped. 

Marinette reached up and stroked his head in soothing motions.

"It's okay, Jay, it's okay. He deserved it. You hate taking another's life and feel the weight of it, but it wasn't a life that was regrettable to end," she whispered, remembering the words that assuaged her own guilt.

"The-the Joker is dead?" The teen before them whispered.

Jason peeked up at the little Robin before them, the green sparking for another moment, "He made another? Replaced us? The mantle should have died when you did. Dick should have stopped him," he groaned out, hatred and fear pulsing in waves.

"Oh shit, you're the last Robin. Jason," the teen's breath caught, half in awe, half dread.

"Yeah, the last. Why? You shouldn't be here," his voice quivered.

Mari handed the grappling gear back over, looking him directly in his hidden eyes, "I know you're going to tell him Jason's back. That he killed the Joker. I'm sure you'll even mention me. But I'm sure he'll notice our own message."

"And what would that be?"

"We were the ones to save you. Not him. Let me know if you ever need an escape from that nightmare."

With that, she lead Jason away, having heard his breathing even out and calm moments before.

"Let's go home," she whispered in his ear, getting a soft nod and taking off back across the roofs.

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! Chap. 5

- A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need -

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 5 “Grief of Want” out now!

AO3 Link. 

Killua held his phone close to his chest, face flushed almost painfully.

GON: I appreciate you too.

That message had knocked the wind out of the young boy, his heart was racing. It had taken him so much energy to text Gon that he appreciated him, had multiple texts written and deleted that ended in ‘I’m glad you’re my friend’ because in the end he still couldn’t bring himself to say that word, but this had been close enough.

The grip around his phone tightened. The feeling was mutual, mutual appreciation, mutual support, and now Killua got to keep its existence close to his heart and locked away there.

Somewhere in the mansion, his mother harshly ordered some butlers to prepare tea and snacks. He locked his door again, not willing to be bribed outside of his room with bland biscuits and bitter tea.

It wouldn’t hurt to look up prices for flights, he thought to himself.

Did Milluki ever change his credit card code?

.

.

.

Illumi shifted in his chair as recording for Hisoka’s new video started. Unlike his colleague next to him, who blossomed under the attention of a camera lens, Illumi never knew how to move his body, what to do with his face. After appearing for the first time in a collab with the other, he had been told through the comments that he looks like a mannequin if he didn’t move, and then had been told that that was most likely an insult.

Hisoka went over his regular introductions, explaining the fashion week, how he was going to fashion his make up to match the suit he was wearing-

“…designed by my good colleague, Illumi Zoldyck!” the artist made some flowery hand gestures towards Illumis person.

“Ah, thank you for having me.” The Zoldyck bowed his head a little, before returning to his straight posture.

Hisoka wore a professional smile on his lips, that seemed so inherently different from the masks that Illumi was usually surrounded by. He didn’t hide that glint in his golden eyes, that gave away how easily he’d launch at the throats of his competition at the first show of weakness. Illumi wondered if that glint was directed at him when he wasn’t looking, if the company he’s started to warm up to was secretly waiting for him to do just that, only to immediately slaughter him.

“Now I understand you’re going to upload a process video of this beautiful piece on your channel, but why not give my viewers a little insight into your inspiration for it?”

Oh.

The slaughter had come quicker than expected. He decided he did not like the rushing fear and anxiety. He didn’t like the prying, golden eyes fixated on only him, as if he knew.

As if Hisoka knew that Illumi designed the suit that last new years eve, huddled away in his room because everyone was too loud and too much, and it didn’t really matter if he was there or not. It was cold, and he felt indifferent to a new year starting, convinced it was going to be the same as the last; Run errands for the company, watch Killua turn into the neatly moulded heir to the fortune that he had been chosen to be, get all his designs rejected because he should just finally drop that hobby of his. And it would have been a miserable and yet indifferent night like any other, if at exactly 12 a.m. he wouldn’t have gotten the single text:

“Hisoka M.: Happy New Year, darling Illumi ❤ Lets work hard together this year as well, as if you’d ever get rid of me~ “

Illumi wanted to blame it on being cold, or that his senses were confused by all the lights and sounds. But it felt nice to be thought of, and it felt nice to be encouraged. He wanted to return this unfamiliar kindness; in the only way he knew how, not with words but with the only thing he deemed himself good at.

He designed a suit for Hisoka, and for Hisoka only. Moulded to his features, personality, and likes. Obviously, he had succeeded, seeing his work on his muse.

But he could never tell Hisoka all of that, and he could never tell it to his millions of followers.

So, instead he simply said "I had the idea for a denim suit in this sort of cut after being inspired by western movies. I wanted to bring the concept closer to our modern age with the fine white, and the colourful card-suits as an accent to poker games as a typical western movie activity."

He looked to Hisoka for approval, who simply smiled and clapped his hands together.

"Right, how fun! Maybe we should go horseback riding together after this, I know a couple of cowboy movies to re-enact~."

Before the Zoldyck could reply with an appropriate reaction -disgust, he thought - Hisoka smoothly transitioned to the next part of the video, explaining what make up look he had in mind, what brands he was going to use, and hissing to his future editing-self to cut out the part where he called his sponsor a "fucking cheapskate".

The artist knew what he was doing, how to best keep his viewers engaged, and how to host a blank-slate guest such as Illumi. On their first collaboration, conversation had been kept to a minimum, but slowly they had found a rhythm to work in, a question and answer to keep air in motion.

"You don't use a lot of makeup, right, Illumi?" Hisoka was almost done applying a powdered foundation, that seemed mixed just to fit his skin.

"Most days I just apply a light moisturizer before I go to bed."

“I don’t doubt that, you’ve got impeccable skin.”

Illumi hesitated at Hisokas purr, “…Thank you.”

The other giggled devilishly, in the way that the designer knew never meant any good. “So, since you don’t use make up, you’re probably helpless when it comes to applying it.”

“I may not have years of experience, but I believe I’d be able to apply it adequately and-“ Before he could finish his sentence, the other man presented him with a lipstick. “Then would you do the honours of applying my lipstick for me? Unless you’re doubting your abilities suddenly.”

Of course, he’d go for a childish challenge like this, Illumi thought while he mustered the rich red colour of the lipstick, perfectly matched to the red values of the suit. He still had the option to refuse, to cut this out in final editing, to continue being a still doll that would occasionally speak. But instead, he grabbed Hisoka’s chin with a slight uptilt. “Open your mouth a little.” “Oh, Illumi, on the first date alrea-“Illumi pressed the tips of his nails into the others cheeks, which resulted in an excited, yet obedient Hisoka.

The colour came easily and evenly onto his lips as Illumi carefully drew across the curvature, the heat of the artists’ skin seeping into his own. Up close as he was, he could notice all the details in the others face. No scars, evenly tanned, a hint of smile lines around his golden eyes. Illumi thought that he was objectively attractive, and there was nothing wrong with being able to admit that another man had symmetric facial features that were appealing to the eyes. “Handsome face, rotten personality, someday he will make a lovely girl absolutely miserable.” is what Kikyo Zoldyck had initially said after she had watched their first collaboration together. “Illumi? Are you painting the mona lisa on me?” Hisoka had slightly retracted out of the others grip, and he smiled as if he knew what he was thinking. Illumi withdrew his hand, straightened his back, and averted his eyes. “I was merely admiring the quality of this lipstick. What was it?”  

Distraction via brand pushing, very effective against Hisoka, who immediately snapped back towards the camera, presenting the makeup closer. “Of course! It’s the new Gucci line of matte lipsticks, this is number 500, Odalie Red, I am head over heels for this beauty!”

.

.

.

.

The rest of the filming process went over relatively smoothly, safe for when Hisoka sneezed so loud that Illumi visibly startled, and when Illumi had to scold Hisoka about wrinkling the suit.

Click. Hisoka turned the camera off, and Illumi laid his head on the table. Filming exhausted him, he didn’t like to maintain his public persona for that long, even though he had been bred to be able to do so. Even though he was no longer the heir. Even though he was the oldest and most capable.

A pleasant coolness took him out of whatever dangerous train of thought he was about to board, and he looked up to see Hisoka offering a bottle of sparkling water. “Good work today~”

His fingers wrapped around the cool glass bottle. “Thank you, you too. I’m pleasantly surprised, you planned out an actual look for today.”

The makeup artist settled back in his chair with a light laugh. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, after you spoil me so well~. I look like I could walk the fashion show myself.”

“You do look very handsome.” Illumi took a sip of his water before he realized what he had said.

Hisoka stared at him, mouth agape.

“It’s probably just the suit complimenting your features-”

Silence.

“I mean, anyone looks handsome if you plaster them with tons of makeup like that-”

Blink, blink.

“And even if you were to look handsome, that doesn’t fix your horrid core-”

Before he could think of any more explanations and excuses for what he said, Illumi was pulled into a hug, his head tucked firmly under Hisoka’s chin, arms wrapped around him. “You’re being an absolute dear today, my dear Illumi~ You may look at me like you want to rip off my head, but I can tell you still are happy to visit!”

And naturally he wanted to protest, wanted to hurl insults at him, and regain his personal space. But just for a second, he didn’t want to struggle. He just wanted to take in the warmth that was enveloping him, smell the natural sweetness lingering in the air, and embrace human contact as anyone with a normal upbringing would.

One.

His hand shot up to grip around Hisoka’s throat. “Do you want to live to see tonight’s show, or are you going to keep suffocating me?”

Immediately Hisoka held his arms up, and the warmth was gone. Illumi patted down his shirt, straightened his collar, and checked his hair in the mirror. It was almost time to leave, if he wanted to be in time to prepare the models and do last minute adjustments.

“Unfortunately, I’ll only live to see the livestream from the comfort of my home.”

“Oh?”

Hisoka started wiping the makeup off his face, a new box of makeup remover being ripped open. “The model I was assigned to for tonight ended up dropping the contract last minute, meaning that my ticket is only effective starting night two.”

“Oh, I see.” Illumi stood up and mustered himself again, checking for any flaws. Somehow, he felt disappointed. “Well, I have to leave anyways, I still need to check the fit of everything.” He had to go and check the fit of the collection he was premiering and Hisoka will not be able to see it, and he was disappointed.

“I will pick you up before the second night then, so you don’t have to show up in a cheap taxi again-“He reached out for his bag to swiftly leave through the door, but Hisoka grabbed his wrist, and pulled him into another tight hug.

“I thought you wanted to live to see the show.”

“And I will, and I’ll be there on time to see your premiere, that’s a promise~” The taller man pressed a quick kiss on top of his head, still bearing a sly grin as Illumi ripped himself free once again.

“Don’t do anything stupid, especially not while you’re associating with me.” A pointed finger, and a death stare were the last things Illumi presented to Hisoka as he rushed through the door. He only heard a muffled “But you know me~!” while he descended the stairs.

Subconsciously he ran his fingers over where Hisoka’s lips touched his head.

.

.

.

.

Preparations were quickly dealt with. Illumis overly neat and controlled way of working had paid off. No further adjustments to clothes had to be made, all models were prepared and let themselves be pushed and pulled as needed. He scanned the crowd behind the curtains, as his models started to line up. In the front row, he spotted one of his mothers’ commissioned writers, a young plain girl, short black hair, and framed glasses, reading over her notes.

He knew she wasn’t going to take notes during his premiere, because she didn’t get paid for that. Because his parents have already told him that his designs will not make it into the magazine. It was only a hobby after all. The single distraction he was allowed to have from his duties for the company. They didn’t have the need to show off his little hobby in the magazine, like a crayon drawing on the fridge.

The music started, the curtains opened, and Illumi stepped to the side of the stage. The beat of the music mixed with the hard beating of his heart in his chest. Anxiously he scanned the crowd for reactions, though camera flashes blinded him quicker than he could look. It was a short premiere, sandwiched between two bigger brands showcasing new seasons. The last 3 models walked down the catwalk, Illumis eyes following them closely.

But at the end of the stage, his eyes wandered deep into the crowd. And a pink flash at the very end drew his attention.

It unmistakably was Hisoka, hair let down, wearing thick sunglasses and a plain black suit, lips curled into a smile, leaned lazily against the wall.

He came.

How the hell did he come in here without a ticket.

He had no ticket, but he came, and he saw.

And as fast as he appeared, he was gone, disappearing behind someone else’s figure as the last model left the stage.

He forced himself to look away, thanked the models for their work, and left the backstage area in favour for the VIP lounge, finally taking out his phone.

One new message.

“Hisoka M.: It was breath-taking, caro mio ♥”

“Illumi: Don’t get caught, Idiot.”

Someone handed him a glass of champagne and asked questions about the family magazine.

“Illumi: Let me pick you up tomorrow for the event. You’re the least despicable person here.”

[thetimelesscycle]

Tales of Arcadia Wizards Fanfiction: Hope Dies Last - Chapter 5

Merlin's word is law, but neither of them have ever cared much for obeying authority.

A/N: This was one of those fun chapters that fights you at every stage, whether that be in the planning, the writing, or the editing. I am semi-satisfied with the outcome for now, so we are still posting on schedule. Enjoy. :-)

Chapter 5

Truths the Shadows Hide

It was a truth she barely admitted to herself and would certainly never have uttered aloud, but when Merlin had first dragged a wide-eyed street urchin across Camelot’s threshold and proclaimed the boy his new apprentice, Morgana had found herself unexpectedly jealous of her successor. The unwelcome feeling had nothing to do with Hisirdoux himself; The boy was charming, in a bumbling, everything-is-probably-on-fire-but-don’t-look-until-I’ve-put-it-out sort of way. She would have needed to be the heartless witch her brother made her out to be not to find his vibrant energy at least a little endearing; The determined enthusiasm of a stubborn child who had refused to stay down no matter how many times the world knocked his feet out from beneath him.

She knew how difficult it was for magical creatures outside the castle walls to survive. She could easily imagine what little Douxie and his familiar must have been through before Merlin had one of his rare moments of self-serving charity, and it was to her shame that she had not done more to make him feel welcome within his new home.

If she had not been stewing in her own feelings of bitter resentment, she could have encouraged that rebellious streak she knew was hiding beneath the hero worship Douxie held for his mentor. She could have been a buffer between her old teacher’s ridiculous standards and the impressionable child he had taken under his wing. Instead, she had chosen to stand back, to distance herself from her mentor’s young ward, despite the fact it had always been Merlin she was angry at.

Merlin, and her brother

Her powers had never been treated as something to be celebrated. Arthur had been afraid of her from the moment that first, fierce argument between them brought the room alive to echo her fury. Sometimes, she thought Merlin had felt the same. He called her his finest student — behind her back where she wasn’t meant to hear — yet for the duration of her apprenticeship she had always been given the impression he did not trust her. He had treated her like a fire he was trying to contain, not a flame that needed to be nurtured, and the ire she had felt over being leashed and bound by her brother’s prejudices had only grown worse when Merlin replaced her with a student he had freely chosen. A student he was all too happy to teach new spells to. Hisirdoux was not permitted to use many of the incantations he was learning, but that had not stopped the envy that had overshadowed their interactions, a weakness she had allowed to go on for far too long.

It had been petty, unworthy of the person she was trying to be, and she regretted it now. Worse still, she feared there would be no opportunity to right that wrong; That Douxie would die still believing he would never measure up in Merlin’s eyes, his only friend in the world an eccentric little dragon. She couldn’t even find the right words to comfort his distraught familiar, devastated by the truth Merlin had forced her to confirm, and the feeling of helplessness growing in her chest was slowly turning into the irresistible impulse to do something, anything but sit still and await the inevitable.

They had both returned to the bedchamber in the wake of Merlin’s departure, Archie curled against the boy’s side, his head resting on his wizard’s ribs so he could both watch and feel each quiet breath. Morgana had taken one of Douxie’s cold hands in her own, a physical connection that allowed her to make sure Merlin’s stopgap solution was holding together, and perhaps offer some comfort in those moments when the reality of his condition seemed to break the peaceful respite of his slumber.

It didn’t feel like enough. All that training, all those spells, and she was still as useless as she had been years ago in the woods. Merlin would never admit as much, but she could tell he was no less frustrated. Clutching at straws and trying to will a solution into being, whilst ignoring that which she had offered like the old fool he was.

With a sigh, she reached out to gently run a hand through Douxie’s tangled locks, murmuring reproachfully to herself as she did so. “You deserve better. From both of us.”

“Do you really think it would help?” They were the first words Archie had spoken since Merlin left them both alone in the tower, and it took her a moment to follow the pattern of his thoughts.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. “The Shadow Realm is dangerous, and for every truth it might show you there are just as many falsehoods. But it is also a mirror, a reflection of our world, and what is destroyed here may still survive within its borders, particularly when dark magic is the cause.”

Archie lifted himself off his familiar’s chest, leaving just his paws resting there, to look her directly in the eye. “Is Merlin right? If you tried, could you bring back something that isn’t Douxie?”

“It is possible.” She wasn’t Merlin; She would not hide the dangers. “There are powers there that would be all too eager to escape into the mortal world. But there are ways to avoid them. The risk would be slim.”

“And if we do nothing?”

“No living creature can survive without a soul, Archie.” She made the words gentle, as if that could soften the blow. “Dark magic might keep him alive, if you could find someone willing to perform the ritual, but he would be bound to whoever’s power sustained him; A slave to their will.”

Archie fell silent, his eyes drifting back to his familiar’s pale face as he contemplated her words. “It seems we don’t really have a choice then, do we?”

“You want to try?” She was both surprised and impressed. “Even after Merlin expressly forbade it?”

“I am Douxie’s familiar, not Merlin. I looked after him for years before we came here, and that’s not going to change because some old wizard thinks he knows better.”

“Quite right.” Still, she hesitated, because Archie had been right in his earlier admonishment. “What about Douxie? You wanted the choice to be his, did you not?”

Archie was quiet for a somber moment. “Is he going to wake up again?”

“There is every chance that he will.” There was also an equal chance that he wouldn’t. She didn’t think Archie needed to hear that right now. “Merlin’s spell is holding. So long as it continues to do so he shouldn’t get any worse.”

“But he won’t get any better, either.”

“No.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving his wizard’s face. “We’ve been together for a long time now, Douxie and I. I trust him with my life, and I know he feels the same way.” He drew in a long, deep breath, turning to her with a gaze that seemed to look right through her. “If we do this, then I am extending that faith to you as well, Lady Morgana. I am entrusting you, as a dragon, with what is most precious to me. Do you understand what that means?”

“I do.” Merlin be damned. She hadn’t been able to save Guinevere. She couldn’t do anything for the countless other lives Arthur had already destroyed. But she could make a difference here. She could help someone. “I swear to you, Archie, that I would sooner hand myself over to Arthur’s brutes than bring Douxie to any harm.”

“Alright, then.” He seemed taken aback by the vehemence of her words. “When you put it that way, there’s really no reason to delay this, is there?”

She glanced at the door, trying to guess how much time they had before Merlin returned. It didn’t really matter; He would be too late to stop them as soon as they were on the other side of the portal. With that in mind, she drew her staff out of her cloak, extending it to its full length and letting darkness overtake the white wood.

“Stay close to me,” she directed, gathering the shadows in the room to form their gateway to the other side. “I don’t know what we’ll find in there.”

There was a flash of golden light, then Archie landed on her shoulder in his feline form, claws latching onto her cloak as his tail wrapped around her neck. She exchanged a glance with him as the portal took shape; A final question. When all he did was nod, she turned and plunged them both into the unknown.

It always took a moment to adjust after the disorientation of moving from a world that made sense into the bizarre otherness of the Shadow Realm. It was a reflection of the mortal plane, that much was true, but a jumbled, shattered reflection that made little sense to those not skilled in navigating it. She had had no teacher during her first forays into its mysteries — Merlin had always been adamant in his refusal to even so much as discuss dark magic — but she had learnt from what mistakes she made during those early ventures. She knew this place as well as it was possible to know a mystery, and she recognised almost at once that something was amiss.

Amidst the tumbling rocks and endless darkness were sharp streaks of colour; Red, blue, and purple cut jagged, intertwining lines across the shadows, like someone had taken a knife to a hanging sheet in a fit of fury. They sparked with unstable energy, tears in the veil between worlds that widened and narrowed in fluctuating waves.

“Well,” Archie spoke in her ear. “This is all deeply unnerving.”

“This isn’t right,” she agreed, using one of the drifting boulders to propel them closer to the strange fissures. She could see figures moving on the other side, like peering through a fogged window. Voices and sounds reached her, their subtleties muffled by the invisible barrier. “Something terrible happened here.”

“Do you think it was the Arcane Order?” Crouched low on her neck, Archie peered distrustfully at the strange manifestation of magic. “Is it because of what they did to Douxie?”

“I don’t know.” She had never seen anything like it before. For the first time in years, she found herself uneasy within the boundaries of her favoured domain. “Let’s just find Douxie. We can worry about all of this once he is safe.”

Archie murmured his agreement, and she closed her eyes in concentration, honing in on Hisirdoux’s unique magical signature. To her bewilderment, she found her attention drawn in a dozen different directions, none of them providing a strong enough resonance to give her a definitive path by which to travel. She felt as though she was shouting into the void, echoes warping the answer, so it seemed as though she were searching for many instead of one.

Drawing her attention back inward, she waited for that dizzying duality to fade, narrowing her search as she pictured the room she had left from; The bed and the boy within it. Without looking, she felt the world shift around her, and when she opened her eyes she was standing within those four walls again, albeit a version that was bare of colour and furnishings both. The only object in the chamber was a black staff, held aloft by a jagged piece of ice that carved its way upwards like a weathered mountain peak, tapering to razor-thin fingers that curled around the weapon’s handle. The staff’s focussing stone — a cyan jewel that had no doubt once been its crowning glory — was shattered down the middle, molten veins marking a spiralling pattern where it had fractured. The broken shards had not fallen, drifting around the largest fragment still inset in the staff, tethered to their origin by thin, intertwining threads of green and purple.

Crouched on her shoulder, Archie voiced his unease, “What is that?”

“It looks like a wizard’s staff....” she answered the familiar hesitantly, carefully crossing the space between them and the strange pedestal. Nothing happened as she drew near, or as she reached out to gently prod one of the shards with the tip of her finger.  It moved as if they were under water, drifting away from her slowly until it reached the end of its tether and was tugged in another direction.

Emboldened, she took one of the pieces in her hand and pressed it back into its rightful place. The world shuddered the moment the sliver clicked into position, the darkness rising, growing, and descending upon them like a wave. She raised her staff too late; It crashed over them, forces that she could not see tugging them in a multitude of directions at once.

She was whipped about like a dry leaf in a fearsome gale, her eyes alighting on a glimpse of their quarry for only a second before they were scattered once more. Snatches of conversation assailed her, no more than three or five words at a time, happiness mingled with anger and twisted with grief. Gritting her teeth, she locked her fingers about the staff in her hands, stoking her outrage, her fury at the ones responsible for this. The emotion grew from glowing embers into a blazing inferno; With the force of that anger, she imposed her will on the shadows around them, commanding the world to a halt with a mental shout.

It obeyed with a suddenness that had her staggering in place, Archie digging his claws in as he threw his weight against her own to stop her pitching down the dark abyss that opened up before her feet. She reeled backwards, sitting abruptly and taking a moment to regain her breath before glancing about their new surroundings.

They had emerged in a crumbling replica of the castle courtyard, the cobblestones beneath her feet cracked with age and neglect. Weeds nudged their way upwards through every crook and cranny they could find, stretching like ropes across the black void that had torn the ground asunder, forming a tangled web of floating islands. The towers that usually stood, proud and shining overhead, were broken and drifting in the emptiness of the Shadow Realm, the same ruptures she had seen upon their entry having wreaked their havoc here as well. There were whispers on the air, a slow chant that could only be magic, and a shiver ran down her spine.

The sensation of eyes upon her back prompted her to glance over her shoulder, finding nothing but the churning tempest from which they had emerged.

“What now?” Archie asked, readjusting his glasses as he peered at their surroundings with open distrust. Morgana rose, trying to appear more confident then she felt as she lifted her eyes to Merlin’s tower. It was still intact, unlike the rest of the keep, and there was a light shining forth from its windows.

Crouching, she shoved off the cracked cobblestones beneath her feet, bounding her way up and over the shattered battlements to land on the narrow walkway that led to the Master Wizard’s study. There was another of the rifts in the air beside her, slowly devouring crumbling stone, what was solid and immovable in the material world turning to dust as it was swept away. She turned her back on the disconcerting sight, treading carefully towards the workshop door. It resisted her first attempt to enter, refusing to budge as she threw her weight against it. She was forced to take a step back, raising her hand and letting her magic slam it open.

The room inside had been overtaken. Not by magic or the strange fissures outside, but a bright and verdant network of vines that bound the entire room together. They were everywhere; Climbing the walls, crisscrossing the floor, creeping across the ceiling. Even those she had snapped off to get inside were already reforming, stretching across the entrance to bar the way out.

Or the way in.

The central table was missing, she noted, as she stepped further inside, as were all the other doors and windows. A layer of frost dusted every surface, yet the stonework beneath the greenery was blackened. It looked as though a terrible fire had swept through the room, ashes still drifting lazily within the contained space. They settled on the floor, atop the the vines snaking their way across the stones, and the boy lying curled on his side in the centre of it all.

“Douxie?” Archie leapt from her shoulder, shifting into his winged form to glide to his familiar’s side. He tested the creepers wrapped about his wizard with his paw; They neither tightened nor loosened their grip, and Archie turned back to the boy they held. “Douxie, can you hear me?”

The young wizard didn’t stir. As she drew nearer, Morgana realised he was clutching something in his hands. A white box, gilded in gold, that she had seen countless times in Merlin’s hands, though she had never been permitted to know its mysteries herself.

“The time map...”

Carefully, she lowered herself beside the boy and his familiar. Something crunched beneath her boots as she did so; Shards of a dark green gemstone she did not recognise. The pieces neither exploded nor started to glow upon being crushed underfoot, so she dismissed them, reaching out to ease the enchanted box from Douxie’s limp fingers. It lit up as soon as she opened it, the soft glow bright amidst the room’s heavy darkness, flickering images dancing by too quickly for her to understand what she was seeing.

It froze locked on a likeness of her own face, twisted in rage. She glanced at Archie, the familiar looking as deeply unsettled as she felt. Before either of them could give voice to their thoughts, the image cupped in her hands expanded, and the room around them disappeared in the blink of an eye.

There was no furious maelstrom this time, nor even the darkness that one could reasonably expect within a place named for the shadows. Instead, she found herself floating within a pale dome of light, surrounded by a myriad of moving images. They drifted around her in a slow rotation, pausing just long enough to offer her a tantalising glimpse of their contents before moving on.

Most made little sense to her: A blurred, barely there impression of calloused but gentle hands, the touch familiar even if the heavy weight that settled about a too small wrist was not; A terrible noise, blind panic, flames, and a moonless night that turned every strange shape into a monster; A world that was too big for the child scampering through it, trying to avoid being trampled whilst diving for dropped crusts amidst the dirt; Pain, blood, and a deep, wrenching sense of loneliness; A dark corner, lit by the dimmest of glows, and a strange rumbling noise that sparked enough curiosity to crawl out of hiding.

It was not until the pictures became clearer, not until she started to see surroundings that she recognised and a little black cat darting hither and thither, that she realised what she was looking at. These, the more recent memories, were much less distorted, and yet at the same time there was a strange overlap of events, as though two different versions were unfolding at the same time. She watched, drawn in by the surreal experience of seeing herself through another’s eyes; Her many quarrels with her brother and her teacher alike revealed in vivid detail before her. There was some measure of guilt in the realisation of just how often Douxie had played a silent witness to such conflicts, standing forgotten in the background as his elders argued back and forth.

That thought was recognised and forgotten in almost the same heartbeat, because the images had not stopped. The present day had come and gone and she was looking now at things that had not happened. That could not have happened. Wariness growing in the back of her mind, she floated forward slowly, reaching out to touch one of the false recollections. The colours warped, forming a vice that locked around her wrist, and she and Archie were both wrenched right through the mirage.

She staggered, the ground beneath her feet uneven and covered with long grass that snared about her ankles. There was a thick, unnatural mist obscuring her vision — or was it smoke? — vague sounds of battle, voices she recognised and some she did not. She thought she saw Arthur, the light of Excalibur burning bright, and... and...

She froze, horror closing around her throat like a vice as she beheld herself, staff raised in fury as she cast magic at her own brother. She saw Douxie, running, hand outstretched to intervene though he must have known he was too far away. The spell in her palm and Excalibur’s edge collided in a surge of golden light that grew and grew until all of the world was washed away in a burst of energy that consumed them all.

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

I hope you have a fabulous week because you're a wonderful person! Our next update will be on Friday, October 2nd!

Chapter 12

"Have you been reading my detailed comments?" Ted asked as his thumb drew patterns on the back of Vic's hand. He'd read straight through her novel two weeks ago, then went back and had been spending the last week adding comments to her document.

Vic rolled her eyes as they walked up the drive to the Potter's home and tried to calm the nervous feeling that was trying to overpower her. Nervous because knowing she and Ted had been invited as a couple seemed to put a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

"Ted, you're leaving comments on every paragraph. How do you expect me to read that many comments? It's a hundred-thousand-word document! Especially with starting my new editing job on Monday?"

"You're an author, doesn't that mean you love to read every critique of the work you create?" He teased.

Vic shoved his shoulder with hers but smiled.

"You're ridiculous, you know?"

"Yes, but you're the one holding my hand, so where does that leave you?"

"Nervous about being here tonight as your girlfriend rather than only their niece," she admitted quietly.

"Hey," Ted stopped them and pulled her into him, "Harry and Ginny love you and there is no way they aren't happy for us, so please try to trust that they aren't out to get you."

Vic nodded but she couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was out to make Ted see what a bad choice he made in giving her a chance.

Ted rapped his knuckles against the old door and they were both swept into a warm hug once Ginny opened.

"Vicky! Teddy! Come in, come in!"

"Thanks, Ginny," Ted grinned as he kicked off his shoes. "You should know that Mum and Dad are going to be supremely jealous when I tell them I brought Vic here before I brought her home to meet them."

Ginny shook her head at his teasing. "Teddy, dear, Victoire is my niece. I knew her for two decades before you did."

"But you also knew me for the same time before Vic knew me, so I'd say it cancels that out." Ted grinned.

Ginny looked heavenward and laughed. "Why do the Marauders have to leave their mark on every male in this family?" She turned to Vic. "Would you believe that even my sweet Al was trying to be a smart mouth the other day?"

Vic laughed, feeling the nervous pit in her stomach start to ease just a bit.

"Al? Really?"

"Al's better at it than the rest of us." Ted walked with them into the kitchen. "He's more like my dad, and Dad always manages to get the best of the other three brothers."

"Heaven help me, then," Ginny chuckled.

"Why ask for heaven's help when I'm right here?" Harry winked at her as she moved to help him with dinner.

"You're a legacy of the problem, love." Ginny leant over and kissed his cheek.

"Ginny is bemoaning the way the Marauders are rubbing off on Al." Teddy sat down at the table and pulled Vic down with him.

"Bemoaning?" Ginny's eyebrows shot up and she turned to glare at Ted.

Vic covered her smile with her hand.

"I'm a simple man, Ginny," Ted grinned, "I use simple words."

Harry turned and Vic could see he was putting a great deal of effort into not laughing.

"You're in an odd humor today, Ted."

Ted shrugged, "I'm happy."

Then he grinned over at Vic and squeezed her thigh. Vic felt the shy smile break across her face and knew there was no way she could stop it.

"Hands above the table!" Jamie shouted behind them, causing Vic to almost fall off her chair.

Vic turned to glare at her cousin feeling her face heat up, unconsciously directing some of her anxiety into the anger that bubbled at his surprising her.

"Are you going to make a habit of tormenting us every chance you get?" She shot at him. Why couldn't Jamie just leave her alone?

"Whoa," Jamie held up his hands, "I'm just playing Vicky, you know it's all in good fun."

Vic huffed, "You've never done this to me before."

"Yeah, well, Sean was a bit of a prick."

Vic felt like Jamie had just kicked her in the chest. She knew she and Sean hadn't been right for each other, but she hadn't thought he was an awful person.

"James!" Ginny gave her son a pointed stare.

"What?" Jamie defended as he pulled a soda can out of the fridge. "We all knew he was; it just took Vicky a while to see it. But she saw the light in the end and now she's with Ted and we can all breathe easy again."

Vic dropped her eyes down and realized she was wringing her hands. Did everyone feel that she had been dating a prick? Was the whole family talking about her poor choices behind her back, not saying anything because they all believed she wouldn't listen to reason? If everyone knew Sean was awful, why had no one made a point of showing her?

"Why don't you see if Al or Lily needs anything, Jamie?" Harry stepped between his eldest son and his wife, who was staring at the teen with menacing eyes.

Jamie glanced between his mum and Vic and then looked at his dad. "Yeah, good idea."

"Are you going to talk to him?" Ginny turned her dangerous glare to Harry.

"I'll talk him through it, love," Harry soothed, giving her a quick kiss. Ginny pursed her lips before seeming to decide to let it lie for now.

"I'm sorry," Vic kept her focus down at the table. "I shouldn't have goaded him."

"You're fine, Vic," Ted moved his arm to wrap it around her shoulders. "We're all a bit difficult when we're teenagers."

Vic bit her lip and leant into him, trying to take as much comfort as she possibly could in the warmth of his embrace.

"Are you excited about your new job?" Ginny asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Vic smiled, "I am, but I'm a little nervous too. I didn't really think that I'd get this one when you sent it to me. Most people I know write for a long time before they become assistant editors."

"But you have been writing dear," Ginny handed Harry the oven mitts and he pulled out the shepherd's pie that Grandma Molly made him teach her how to make. "You were the sole creator of Ron's initial website for his new company, all that text was put there by you. You handled the blog, you handled the page information, that site was all you."

"Plus your book," Ted added. "That's a lot of writing experience."

Vic started to object again but Ginny held up her hand.

"You'll do just fine, dear. I've known Emmeline for almost as long as I've known Harry, she wouldn't have hired you if she didn't think you were right for the job."

Vic nodded, but she still felt nervous. Why did it feel like everything made her nervous these days? Harry moved the large pie to the table and Vic tried to use it as a way to change the subject. She was done having the conversation revolve around her questionable life choices

"This is one of my favorite meals." She gestured to the shepherd's pie.

Ted hummed his agreement. "Aunt Lily's shepherd's pie is pretty amazing."

"I thought it was Uncle Harry's recipe?" Vic turned to him, grateful that Ted pushed the conversation away from the topics that made her stomach clench.

"Who do you think taught me how to make it?" Harry chuckled.

"I guess I forget sometimes that you and my aunts have families outside of us." Vic felt a bit sheepish. "I'm sure Aunt Hermione and the rest of them have recipes that are their parents' too, huh?"

Ginny laughed loud and Harry smiled at Vic's confused face. "Have you ever noticed that your Aunt Hermione doesn't tend to cook much? Yes, her parents have recipes they've passed down, but they've passed them down to Ron. Hermione hates cooking."

Vic chuckled and was grateful when Ginny suggested she and Ted collect her cousins for dinner. And thankfully the Potter brood managed to keep the conversation spinning well enough that Vic was able to just sit back and enjoy. But her initial feeling of dread seemed well justified when Uncle Harry asked her to help him with getting the pudding out later that evening.

"Vicky," Harry handed her a stack of plates, "How are things?"

"Fine," Vic took the plates and set them out on the table, trying for all the world to look unconcerned as she pointedly ignored the clenching feeling in her stomach and the way her heart beat harder in her chest.

"Vic, we love you, you know that, right?"

She nodded, still refusing to look her uncle in the eye.

"Then what's going on? You've been really reserved and jumpy tonight."

Vic bit her lip and tried for boldness, but when she met Uncle Harry's gaze, she realized how foolish an idea that had been. She was not strong enough to shrug this off while looking him in the eye.

"Are you unhappy with Teddy?" Harry pressed.

"No!" Vic felt the air rush out of her.

"Well, then what's going on?"

Vic bit her lip before falling into one of the chairs and wrapping her arms around her waist.

"You know what happened before we got together. Aren't you worried about Ted being with me?"

Harry stared at her blankly. "I'm sorry, that one completely missed me."

"Harry, I was encouraging Ted's flirting while I was dating and engaged to Sean. Wouldn't you be worried if Jamie started dating someone you knew wasn't faithful to their previous relationship?" Vic didn't dare look up at her uncle. She almost expected him to go talk to Ted then and now and convince him to wash his hands of her.

"What does Teddy say about what you're getting at here?" Harry came to sit across from her.

Vic shook her head. "He keeps telling me that I'm crazy."

"Then I'm going to side with Teddy."

Vic squeezed her arms tighter around herself. "You mean how everyone sided with me while I was in a relationship that I shouldn't have been in?"

Harry sighed. "Vicky, we love you, and if you had decided you did love Sean, then we would have done what we could to support you in that relationship."

"Even though everyone thought he was a prick? Even though it would have been bad for me to stay with him?" Vic finally looked up at Harry.

"Vicky, one of the things that come with being an adult is that the grown-ups that raised you have to back off and let you make your own decisions, and let you deal with whatever those consequences happen to be. We all still want to help you, and we may make suggestions along the way, but we can't dictate your lives. How else will you learn other than having to make your decisions and live with the consequences of them?"

"So, even if being with me is bad for Ted, you'll not try to stop him?"

Harry chuckled, "I've not seen Ted happier than I see him now with you, but yes, even if he was unhappy, I wouldn't try to sabotage your relationship with him. If he came to me for help, I would definitely try to help him find happiness, but I would never tell him to break off a relationship. Those sorts of decisions are personal ones, and they have to come from the individual."

Vic took a deep breath and forced herself to ask one last question. "What about the rest of your family, would they do the same thing?"

"Who do you think taught me that when a kid becomes an adult the grown-ups have to let them learn from their own choices?"

"So, no one is going to try and talk Ted out of being with me?"

"No, Vicky, I think the only person you need to be concerned about in that area is yourself."

Vic blinked, "What?"

"If you can't believe that you're worthy of being loved, then sooner or later, you'll be the one to walk away."

Vic sat in stunned silence as her uncle's words washed over her, but before she could respond, Lily came bounding in asking if it was time for dessert yet.

Uncle Harry's comment felt an awful lot like the list that her mum had written several months ago. She really wished that everyone would stop trying to vaguely point her in the right direction and just tell her what she needed to do. But Harry's comment about loving herself made her feel suddenly exposed in the worst way. She wanted to put on a sweatshirt and curl under a blanket. Why did the concept of loving herself make her want to find a rock to hide under? Vic realized it was probably close to the same reason that her mum's list made her want to tear the page out of her notebook and burn it.

"You ok?" Ted pulled her into him as they walked from the Potter's to his car. "You've been pretty quiet tonight."

Vic rested her head against his shoulder and sighed, "I'm starting to realize that I might have farther to go than I think I want to."

"You missed me," Ted leant back against his car and pulled her close to his chest. Vic let her arms snake around his neck and tried to enjoy the feeling of being wrapped up in Ted's embrace.

"My mum, and Uncle Harry, both seem to think that I've got some personal growth I could be doing, and I'm feeling like what they're suggesting is more than I might be able to handle."

"How can I help?" Ted dropped his face and nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

"I don't even know where to start, Ted, let alone how you could help."

Ted pulled his chin down her cheek, his five o'clock shadow pulling a giggle out of her.

"Well, maybe we sit down together, look at where you are, and see if between the two of us we can find a way forward, along with how I can help."

Vic bit her lip and pulled back to look at him. "This is scary."

"My mum says that most things that are worthwhile are scary." Ted soothed as he rubbed his hands up and down her back. "But you don't have to do it alone. Scary things aren't so bad when we do them with other people."

"Are you some self-exploratory expert then?"

Ted laughed and brought his lips to hers. Vic pulled closer, pressing up on her toes to deepen the kiss.

"There's the real Vic, I knew she couldn't have gone far." Ted murmured against her.

"What does that even mean?" She chuckled.

"You go get things, Vic. I'm not a self-help expert, but I know that you go get what you want, and that's the only thing you really need." Then he nipped at her ear. "And I'm never going to turn down excuses to spend more time with you."

He kissed down her neck and Vic hummed as her fingers moved through his turquoise hair.

"We should probably stop snogging out here," she sighed as he slowly moved his lips closer to hers. "I'm waiting for Jamie to come out and yell at us to stop."

Ted smirked as he pulled back, "You're probably right, but this is why I have a flat of my own."

"Why don't we take advantage of that before you take me home?" Vic finally started to feel more herself as Ted's appreciative hum vibrated in his chest against hers.

"See every now and again you have these amazing ideas and I end up wondering how I ever managed to make it this far without you."

"You're ridiculous," she pressed forward again, running her tongue against his lips.

"And you're kissing me," Ted murmured, pulling her flush against him and moving a hand to her hair.

"Will you two get a room!?" Jamie yelled from his bedroom window, looking down at the two of them in the front-drive.

"We were just on our way out, Jamie," Ted called back up to him as he reached behind him to open the car door.

When she finally made it home, Victoire opened up the notebook that had her mum's notes in it and read them again.

You and your desires are important.

You are a good person.

You are brave.

You must decide your life's story.

A few lines underneath them she added Uncle Harry's advice.

If you can't believe that you're worthy of being loved, then sooner or later, you'll be the one to walk away.

She didn't feel any closer to finding herself, but seeing it all laid out in front of her, she realized that Uncle Harry's words had given her a bit of direction. Maybe if she could just believe these things, then maybe it would help her see the way forward. And knowing that Ted was going to try and help her made her feel a little less like she was floundering.

Vic was pulled from her internal struggle by the chime of her text message notification.

Ted: Have you read my comments yet?

She laughed and pulled her laptop to her.

Vic: I was just about to start.

Ted's typing bubble made her giddy.

Ted: Good. I think you're going to like what I've put so far.

Vic typed in her password and waited for her computer to log in.

Vic: I'm sure that I'll wonder if we're reading the same document.

She bit her lip and smiled. Teasing Ted was almost as much fun as kissing him.

Ted: Stop that. Go read my comments and you'll see this story of yours is going to be big.

Vic rolled her eyes and opened her browser.

Vic: You have to say that, you're my boyfriend.

Ted's response was almost instant.

Ted: No, I have to say it because it's true. Now stop texting me and start reading. ;)

Vic opened the document and sighed. She hadn't read through her story in almost a year now. It felt like going back to an old childhood favorite food and it made her nervous. She'd liked some pretty awful things when she was a kid, some good things too, but a lot of things that now she found repugnant. Was she about to find out that she had spent three years on something that she now hated? Vic tried to breathe through the anxiety and took a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with." And she started reading.

[blackhood5533]

Hannigram Oneshot—Hide and Seek Europe Edition

Warnings: slight angst, tiny bit of fluff, some fancy metaphors, implied sexy time at the very end of the chapter (but you see none of it, basically nonexistent)

Will sighed, slumping onto the bed of the hotel room, the TV playing in the background of the half lit room, the lamps on either side of the bed atop two nightstands glowing in a golden light. Will sighed again, pinching the skin between his brows and looking at the TV under half-lidded eyes. Half listening, but lost in thought, thinking back to the events of that afternoon.

“I forgive you...”

In the catacombs, chasing after a serial killer- no... his... friend... Will wasn’t even sure if he was there, just a hunch. If he wasn’t there, then that Detective could think he was a lunatic like all the rest. For good reason too. But if he was there....

“-Il Mostro has struck again. After almost a decade of peace, the monster who was the bane of Europe has come back with another murder, but in the form of a heart. The police are still investigating this issue but there hasn’t been much word of late...”

Will deadpanned at the TV, the news knocking him from his thoughts as another pang of pain resounded in his head. He groaned.

These headaches are gonna be the death of me.

Will stood up shakily and headed to his luggage in the corner, barely unpacked as he searched for his aspirin. From the time his journey overseas started to this very moment, digging through a poorly packed luggage for painkillers, Will had gotten a maximum of three hours of sleep. The only thing keeping him going was copious amounts of coffee and his persistence to find the one who ran away after stabbing him. Oh, and his spunky sniper sidekick who pushed him off a train. That didn’t help his lack of sleep at all.

Finally locating the pills he sat himself down on the carpet, about to dry swallow about five of the fuckers when he noticed a glass of whiskey, poured neatly on the nightstand.

Huh, guess I poured it and forgot.

He stood, knees a bit wobbly as he walked towards the bed sitting down on the side where the whiskey glass and bottle was. Ignoring the glass, Will took the bottle, tossed the aspirins in back and took a swig, and maybe another. He relented, putting the bottle down on the nightstand and flopping down on his bed.

Dusk was approaching. A beautiful sunset appearing off the high rise of the city he currently resided in, the thin curtains flowing carelessly from the open patio doors, a warm breeze blowing in.

Will knew he was in enemy territory. This city, this whole country, Italy, it was threatened by the very notion that Il Mostro had come back, that Hannibal had returned for seconds. But strangely, in this moment, with a warm breeze on his face, the quiet flutters of the see through curtains and the drowning of the TV was all so comforting. Something Will hadn’t experienced since... since Hannibal.

It wasn’t so much the fact that Will had been gutted, that was something he could forgive. Wounds heal after all. But the fact that he fled—Will didn’t want to admit it, but he wished that Hannibal left when he called him, right then and there... but he didn’t. Wounds heal but scars remain... And Abigail... Abigail stayed dead.

Will’s lip twitched. With one hand, he covered his eyes and clamped the other over his mouth. The blood wasn’t something he could ever erase from his mind. He went through the same trauma not once, not twice, but thrice and to think that he was still chasing.

Molten hot lava bubbled under his face, the undealt anger and frustration that he pushed down boiling over. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought he could’ve done something. He could have... The lava spilled over. It overflowed in the form of hot liquid that ran down his flushed cheeks and through the cracks of his fingers.

“Why did you do that Hannibal?” His voice was raw, it cracked with overbearing pain.

“...”

“Why did you have to kill Abigail?” Will muttered each word, getting slightly weaker as he reached the end of his question, not bothering to look up. He had long since felt the presence of the man since he crossed the small hallway that blocked his view of the patio, whose doors weren’t open yet. The whiskey, the curtains, everything was laid out perfectly, he knew the signs but chose to ignore them. Hannibal wanted Will to know he was there, it was so blatantly obvious that it didn’t seem like there was a plan at all. But there always was.

Silence.

Will sat up abruptly and stared at the man clad in a black turtleneck and cargo pants, his black boots spotless, so no tracks could be traced in case... Hannibal didn’t answer, he just looked off into the distant city of Florence.

The tears slowly dried from his eyes, his hands making no movement to dry them faster as he looked at the man unblinkingly. Hannibal finally looked back at Will, an unreadable expression on his face except for the small pang of regret in his eyes, so small that one would have never noticed, that is if they weren’t Will Graham they wouldn’t have.

“I thought you weren’t fond of eye contact,” Hannibal said softly.

“I think I’ve seen too much, that’s for sure, but I’ve never seen enough of you it seems,” Will said his gaze still fixed on the lean man before him. His silver hair combed, not a single hair out of place with the aid of a very firm hair gel. His hands were loosely folded on his lap, his eyes soft, but devoid of emotion now that he knew that he was being analyzed by ‘the keenest hound ever to run in Crawford’s pack.’ But he reveled in it. He did, every time before now, at every crime scene, at every session—it was there and so was the rush. But the keenest hound in Crawford’s pack?

I might have to change that soon... Hannibal thought as he slowly drew his hand up to lean his head against.

“How have you been Will?”

Will was dumbfounded. There was a pause, before a chuckle started that didn’t end until Will noticed that Hannibal’s lips were slightly pointed down, “How... hm, how am I?” Will asked, composing himself poorly, a smile playing at his lips, but dangerous venom waiting behind it for Hannibal to say something that even remotely triggered Will to clap back, “I think the more important question is how are you?” Wills smile dropped immediately, “How have you been doing Dr. Lecter.” The question now more of a statement.

“..... I’ve been doing alright...”

“Oh I’m sure you are, no problems with finding your special meat, or sleeping at night, or being in a medically induced coma for three months,” Will said with a thick layer of saccharine sweetness in his voice.

Hannibal opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

“So how. Have. You. Been. Hannibal,” Will repeated, each word with a pause in between. Hannibal pursed his lips for a moment, keeping steady eye contact on Will’s bloodshot eyes. There was a pause before he straightened himself and sat up, folding his hands while keeping his gaze trained on a stain in the carpet.

Another moment passed and he looked up finally, got up from the chair and approached Will until he was directly in front of the brunette’s seemingly small figure on the bed.

To Will’s surprise, Hannibal bent down to Will’s level and sat on his knees, “I missed you,” he said and took Will’s hands in his. Will looked down, noticing that his hands were shaking.

He quickly pushed his hands away and flopped back onto the bed, covering his face, “Fucking hell,” he whispered. The bed creaked as another weight was added. He peeked through a slit between his fingers to find Hannibal sitting on the bed as well. Will could see his broad back, and with him being hunched over a little, you could see his muscles under the dark fabric, how strong he was, but not overtly muscular.

Will slowly raised himself into a reclining position, not yet on Hannibals eye level and just stared at his back. Who the fuck was he kidding, he needed Hannibal like how a fish needs water to live. He needed Hannibal to live, and at that moment, he thought: Fuck it.

Hannibal was startled when he found two arms around his torso, warmth against his back, a muffled voice saying, “I missed you too.”

At that point, Hannibal really couldn’t help himself, a soft smile broke out on his face as he looked down at the arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. Gently, he priced them off and turned himself to see Will lying on the pillow behind him, bright blue eyes glassy again. He grabbed Will’s torso and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“I never regretted anything in my life. But the moment I met you, everything I did gave me second thoughts, and the things I did on a whim, especially if it involved you, I regretted, at least a little. Taking Abigail from you was one of my biggest mistakes.” Hannibal said into Will’s shoulder before pulling away, but not letting go of the dark haired man.

“What was your biggest?” Will asked his voice hoarse.

“Leaving you to pick up the pieces,” Hannibal said with such a look of regret that Will had never seen before, “And for that, I am sorry... So very sorry mylimasis...” Hannibal lowered his head against Will’s chest, “How you could ever forgive me I do not know, and I don’t expect you to either.”

“Shut up you idiot,” Will said as he lifted Hannibals face up to his to find a single tear had found its way down to his chin, “I already told you, yesterday, in the church, down in the caves... I forgive you.”

Hannibal looked at Will, “You don’t believe in God.”

“I believe in you,” Will said, his deep blue eyes crinkling at the edges as small, but genuine smile was cracked, “Isn’t that enough?”

Hannibal looked at Will, longing in his eyes before he pushed Will down onto the bed and gave him a tender kiss, “You’re more than enough for me mano meile, always.”

Will laughed a bit, “I sure hope so,” He threaded his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, breaking through the hair gel like straw cracking until his hair was soft and silky again, “But if you ever run off to some place halfway across the world again,” Will said pulling Hannibal’s face towards his, “Mark my words, I will find you, and you won’t be running off anywhere anytime soon.”

Hannibal chuckled, “I would never leave you Will, who in their right mind would?” Hannibal asked his eyes crinkled and an adorable grin on his face as he pressed Will closer to him.

The two sighed. Night settling in. A small while passed, the two eventually moved into a more comfortable position, side by side holding each other, listening to the night as a now cool breeze blew over them.

“Folie a deux.” Will whispered.

“Madness shared by two.” Hannibal finished.

Will turned to look at Hannibal, “I wouldn’t want to share madness with anyone but you.”

Hannibal didn’t say anything, but a small smirk appeared on his face, “Mylimasis,” he said before he rolled on top of Will and leaned in for another kiss.

And all I’ll tell you is, is that they had a very eventful night.

The End.