#I drew her ONCE back in 2020 but never had any real ideas for her

[kaleidoru]

friend from the sea

[ribbonstrawberrysurprise]

Possible Mia Ikumi Doujin Penname

First off, thanks to @berrychanx who found the initial doujin listing and @kuro93 who I know also looked into this and bought some of her works! Second off, warning for some suggestive doujin covers and other art, although there's nothing truly explicit.

First things first, I want to say that I sat on this information for a little bit considering if it was appropriate to speculate since Ikumi never chose to make this connection publicly. Ultimately I've decided to go through with it since imo the artstyle is instantly recognizable, so it'd come out eventually. I also found some still-up online accounts associated with this penname, and I know that's a thing the fandom has wanted to see for a long time. I'd ask that you please be respectful with this info and keep in mind it is NOT confirmed and that Mia Ikumi has passed away.

I'd also like to make clear that I'm totally uninterested in trying to figure out her birth name or track down any other personal info on her life that she didn't choose to share in doujin, her website, manga notes, interviews, etc. That feels very out of line. Finding other pennames can help us fans catalogue more of her work, but finding her real identity does nothing but violate her privacy.

So that's kind of where I'm at right now. If you feel differently about whether it's right to speculate on Ikumi's doujin works, or if you don't want to see anything even a little suggestive, please turn back now.

We know for sure that Mia Ikumi was a penname, since that was confirmed in ads for Re-Turn when she changed one of the characters.

征海美亜 ＊征海未亜よりペンネーム変更されました Ikumi Mia *Ikumi Mia yori penneemu henkou saremashita Mia Ikumi (征海美亜) *[Her] penname was changed/altered/revised from Mia Ikumi (征海未亜)

Prior to her return to Nakayoshi with some TMM anniversary art and then the 2020 Re-Turn short, the last work she published under that name was Koi Cupid, way back in 2005-08.

There's always been speculation as to whether she continued drawing manga under a different penname, but there was never any official word from her once her website went down, since she was not active under that name under any social media or on Pixiv. We also had no idea how her art might have evolved in the years since her last official release, so there was no guarantee we'd recognize any work of hers if we saw it. The first anyone saw of her art post-website was back in 2015 when she drew some art of Ichigo and then Ichigo, Mint, and Lettuce for the 60th anniversary of Nakayoshi.

https://hikayagami.tumblr.com/post/132481043559/more-nakayoshi-60th-anniversary-mew-mew-art-from https://hikayagami.tumblr.com/post/118704238761/ichigo-momomiya-in-her-cafe-mew-mew-uniform-drawn https://hikayagami.tumblr.com/post/130755109662/new-picture-of-ichigo-minto-retasu-drawn-by

As you can see, this art featured a pretty different art style than she'd had 2 decades back.

(Sidenote: it seems she also did some art for the 55th anniversary, back in 2010, but this is much closer to the dates when she was working under the Mia Ikumi name and has roughly the same art style as OG TMM: https://hikayagami.tumblr.com/post/151430694480/doodles-of-ichigo-and-berry-drawn-by-mia-ikumi )

Obviously, starting in 2019, she then went on to release the two-shot manga TMM 2020 Re-Turn, some miscellaneous promo art (Blu-ray bonus comic, Alice in Wonderland merch, Smewthie fanart, etc.), and finally new covers and bonus comics for most of the rereleased manga volumes before her passing. Between the works she published in the 90s-early 2000s and all of this new art, we have a pretty good sample size of her artstyle over time. So it was only a matter of time before someone stumbled on something familiar looking…

Berrychanx found a listing (https://jp.mercari.com/item/m11046282201 ) for an Idolmaster doujin called Room Fight! created as a collab between 2 doujin circles/artists: Nameless Color (ねーむれすからー) and Komomo+ (こももぷらす), published by Poco Poco in 2014. The seller specifically noted that the style looks very similar to Mia Ikumi's, and it's very hard to argue! The hands especially look the way that Ikumi has always drawn them, and the eyes, facial expressions, and hair shading is pretty much one to one for Re-Turn.

Nameless Color has some other works, but they aren't in this same artstyle at all. Therefore, the one whose style matches Mia Ikumi's is Komomo+.

https://doujinrepublic.com/product/tag_page.html?tags=85361&ref=product_page&type=rel_tag_circle

As far as I can tell, the doujin circle is named Poco Poco, and the artist's penname is Komomo Kozakura (小桜小桃) or later Komomo (小桃) or Komomo+ (written as こももぷらす). There's a lot of variation in which spelling is used across doujin sites, and sometimes Komomo is listed as the circle name rather than Poco Poco, but I'm unsure as to whether this is a change in how presumed-Ikumi branded herself or just a lack of organization in the websites. Also, the Room Fight! doujin is categorized under komomo+ (https://www.suruga-ya.jp/product/detail/ZHORE153927) and under Komomo Kozakura (https://ecs.toranoana.jp/tora/ec/item/040030276511/ ), so I’m sure they’re the same person and not just 2 people in the same circle.

Here are the titles I could find under all of these names across various websites in approximate publishing order:

https://www.suruga-ya.jp/search?category=&search_word=&ck=true&inStock=On&person_id=1051050 https://www.suruga-ya.jp/search?category=&search_word=&ck=true&inStock=On&person_id=2874482 https://www.suruga-ya.jp/search?category=&search_word=&person_id=2864627 https://ecs.toranoana.jp/tora/ec/cot/circle/LUPA2D6P8476d16Qd687/all/

The main fandoms are Idolmaster, Kantai Collection, and Strike Witches. It's immediately obvious how much they look like Ikumi's style, from small details like the faces to larger things like how she tends to pose characters on her covers. They range from 2008-2016, and you can see that earlier works look a little more like her TMM-era art while later stuff is way more Re-Turn.

So is that all the new info? Do we need to track down and buy these doujin to get any more new info on Mia Ikumi? Well, that’s definitely a thing you can do! But there’s one other avenue.

You see, the title page of Girls Fight! does lead to a now defunct webpage: pocopoco.sblo.jp

https://web.archive.org/web/20081201000000*/pocopoco.sblo.jp

The Wayback Machine has 5 captures for this website: 12/31/08, 2/25/11, 6/3/13, 4/25/16, and 3/14/23. The latest one just shows the same error page not found message as if you try and go to the site now, but the others all have blog entries ranging from 2008 to the end of 2015 (i.e., starting RIGHT after the end of Koi Cupid/Mia Ikumi's professionally published/official manga career).

https://web.archive.org/web/20090103031628/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/article/20797588.html https://web.archive.org/web/20160425011557/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/article/170290508.html

Mostly these posts are either drawings or advertisements for a new book she's selling at a con or online by mail order, so there’s a whole bunch of new art. (Warning: there's nothing outright nsfw, but some of these images are probably the most suggestive ones I link in this post, moreso than even most of the doujin covers. Use your own judgment!) The rest of the posts are personal diary entries.

(Sidenote: I am NOT going to translate this whole blog because there’s a whole bunch of text! I looked through the available pages, and the auto-translated version is fine for getting a basic understanding. If you have questions about a specific post, feel free to ask, though! Right off the bat, the text on the big image at the top of the earlier captures, the one with the green-haired catgirl in a red outfit, is just a paraphrasing of the post where she explains her categories/tags to help you navigate the site https://web.archive.org/web/20090103030651/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/article/21376253.html )

This website, crucially, also links to Komomo's pixiv account (Username: 小桃/Komomo), which is still up!

https://www.pixiv.net/users/3966440

(I was logged in when I accessed the page, so it's possible you may need an account to view it. Please do keep in mind this is not an account publicly associated with Ikumi/TMM and that the owner is likely deceased. We don't need to leave random comments and messages.)

The oldest picture is from 2012, when she created it (she posts about this), and the most recent picture is from 2018, so you can really see the artstyle shift here as well. There is no reference to TMM or Mia Ikumi anywhere.

The blog also links to her NicoNico page (Username: 小桃/Komomo), where she posted a few Vocaloid covers from 5/16/10 to 6/4/11.

https://www.nicovideo.jp/user/16890918/

She talks about uploading these covers on her blog under her utattemita/”I tried singing” tag: https://web.archive.org/web/20160425011607/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/category/907578-1.html

So, the art definitely matches with what we know of Mia Ikumi’s art, both from published works and stuff posted online to her official website, ikumimia.chu.jp (Hika posted some of the website art here and here if you aren’t familiar)

(As a tangent, that website seems to have been created at or before 5/7/07 and gone offline sometime between 7/1/10 and 7/27/11, so there was definitely a period where she was working under both identities at once…)

But is there any other info linking Komomo and Mia Ikumi?

The site doesn't give much personal detail about Komomo irl, but it does say she was born in spring, and Mia Ikumi's birthday was March 27th.

プロフィール 名前小桜小桃です。 一言:春生まれです。 Profile My name is Komomo Kozakura. In a word, I was born in spring.

There's also a diary entry about her getting a Scottish fold kitten for her mom in 2008 after the family cat passed away 2 years back. We know from the bonus comics in the TMM manga that Mia Ikumi had a Scottish fold.

スコティッシュフォールドという種類のキャリコなお嬢さん。 A calico lady called a Scottish fold.

https://web.archive.org/web/20081231223544/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/category/627816-1.html

Komomo also says she’s interested in gothic lolita clothing and that she dresses up at events. We know Mia Ikumi also dressed up for events, since that’s in her bio, and she drew her outfits in manga bonus page.

＊ゴスロリの部屋＊ 小桜小桃の趣味のページです。主に持っている服やアイテム、欲しいモノの紹介、ゴスロリに関する事とかも書いていこうと思います。 *Gothic Lolita Room* A page about Komomo Kozakura’s hobby. Mainly I’ll write about clothing items I own, stuff I want, and things related to gothic lolita fashion.

https://web.archive.org/web/20160425154652/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/category/627812-1.html

今回のコミケはカゼのため、コスとかせずに防寒重視でいったのですが Because I had a cold at this Comiket, I went without any kind of costume to focus on keeping warm

https://web.archive.org/web/20160425154658/http://pocopoco.sblo.jp/category/627816-1.html

Between the art, the timeline of when things were posed vs Ikumi's public career, and the small bits of overlapping info on the artists' lives, I'm very confident that Mia Ikumi and Komomo Kozakura are two pennames for the same artist.

As for why, we can only speculate. I will say it's pretty common for artists to use a different penname for doujin work vs professional work, although some keep it more secret than others. It's especially common if the doujin work is more risque than the professional, which is the case here. I'll also say that almost all of Ikumi's post-TMM works were fairly short. Only One Wish may have been imagined as a one-volume anthology from the start, but it seems like TMM a La Mode and Repure may have been canceled early based on rushed endings with a lack of follow-up on plot points. Comi Digi +, the magazine in which Koi Cupid was published, got discontinued in 2008, presumably ending that series early as well. Ikumi also seems pretty annoyed with her editor in the a La Mode bonus comics, so possibly she was frustrated with baggage of the Mia Ikumi identity and wanted a fresh start.

Possibly she stopped putting out work around 2018 or possibly she started working under another penname. Maybe that was when Nakayoshi got in contact with her to begin planning for ReTurn, Ole/Au Lait, New, the TMM Blu-ray, the manga re-release, etc.

In conclusion, it seems like there are many more works by the artist known as Mia Ikumi than we'd thought previously, plus slightly more of a web presence, although this seems to have ended years before the TMM 20th anniversary renaissance. It's possible there are more accounts under the Komomo/小桃 name or under another penname that might be found in the future.

[jjungkookislife]

Fic Recs 2020 Pt. 1

Seokjin

let’s get married [SMAU] @hangsangwithbts

Summary: seokjin has no intention of getting married, but after facing tremendous pressure from his family to finally settle down, he comes up with the brilliant idea to fake a marriage. the lucky bride just so happens to be you.

voice mail @joonary

summary: kim seokjin is best known around campus for his romance advisory podcast, voice mail, but to you, he’s just your lovable idiot of a best friend. but when he accidentally lets it slip that he’s fallen for one of your fellow peers, you can’t help but be a little bit curious (and quite frankly, a tad bit jealous).

Yoongi

cheers if you agree @out-of-jams

summary: If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know who you were or even how to get into contact with you, Yoongi wouldn’t be posting all over Weverse for anyone to see. Not that he thought anyone would be smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together with how many people responded to his posts anyway.

snake kisses @peekaboongi

summary: You are grossly unprepared for the snake hybrid that enters your life. Yoongi is quiet and sneaks around you but eventually, even the cold reptile warms up to you.

under construction [SMAU] @luffles424

summary: In which y/n is just trying to figure out what to do with her life with the help from her (un)helpful friends

Hoseok

going once, going twice, sold @bxebxee

summary: But the real reason anything at all started with Hoseok was something much simpler, and probably wholly unexpected - not that you ever planned on any of the other members of the MBA Society to find out.You leave your unlocked phone in his car before stumbling your way into your tiny, studio apartment. And he sees a twitter notification asking you for further discount on your panties.That is all it takes.

just practice @lamourche

summary: The second time you hook up with Jung Hoseok, he doesn’t remember the first time.  You’re surprised.  It was only a few weeks ago, and you were in a broom closet. That has to be different, right? (Well, not really, you’ll learn.)

game over @9uk

summary: your boyfriend has been gaming all day without paying much attention to you. that is until his friends on discord brings up the moaning noises in the background.

you’re my kryptonite @dovechim

summary: Superheroes are immortal, they are everything we are not. The Krypton are a race of superhumans sent down to Earth to protect humans, and they are the epitome of nobility and protection. You have always believed in their immortal, God-like powers, revered and admired them your entire life. Your wish for your very own superhero is granted when you meet Jung Hoseok, a Krypton with the most unique, powerful abilities you’ve ever seen.

Namjoon

first, do no harm @yandere-society

summary: Dr. Kim is well known as the most skilled heart surgeon in the hospital, but when you notice his mortality statistics seem skewered, you discover all is not what it seems. Now, Dr. Kim is offering you a choice: will you join him? Or become yet another broken heart beneath his scalpel?

internet friends [SMAU] @bts-celestials​

summary: meeting through online, namjoon slowly starts to fall for the person who likes all the things he’s into. maybe having friends online is fun.

Jimin

reset @dovechim

summary: We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

paparazzi (tw: flash banner) @chinkbihh​

summary: What if the roles were reversed and it was Jimin who was the fan and you who was the idol?  But what if he wasn’t just a casual fan, but an avid fan?  Maybe even a sasaeng…  

Taehyung

the morning after @softlyjiminie

summary: one night, full of passion, whispered promises and heated kisses. one morning, full of regret and unwanted memories. is a night with your ex enough to send you running back into the arms of the devil?

fake love @mygsii

summary: an arranged marriage between you and taehyung leaves behind feelings of bitterness and hatred. will your heart be able to survive, especially when you’ve loved him all your life, or will it fall apart with this marriage?

cheap skate @gukslut

summary: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

baby i @jiminsfault

summary: a one night stand with a stranger leads to so much more than just great sex

Jungkook

only for love [SMAU] @lysjeon

summary: for almost four years it had been just him and sarang, and he had no plans on changing the life they had become accustomed to any time soon, but of course y/n has to come and shake his world.

one time in your room @ubemango

summary: There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

piss off your parents @littlemisskookie

summary: In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm.

departure @nomnomsik

summary: As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

curiosity @hobidreams

summary: when innocent jungkook comes to you with a not-so-innocent question… you decide it’s easier to just demonstrate.

inkling @gguksgalaxy

summary: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

j’aime @baepop

summary: You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

pop goes the cherry @1oserjk

summary: jungkook comes back home to find you visiting as well, all grown up — in more ways than one.

skirt chasers @1kook

summary: “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

kiss it better @jincherie

summary: When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

pay by play @yoonia

camboy!au

deeply poisoned @xmagicxshopx

summary: Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us. Deeply poisoned by the jail of you. I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway.

speeding ticket @minstrophywife

summary: Caught speeding to get home in time, you find yourself pulled over by a very delicious cop. Perhaps you can talk your way out of the ticket.Or,“I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a cavity search ma’am.”

OT7/Multiple Members

buttercream @minniepetals

summary: you were always adorable in their eyes, sometimes a little too adorable.

dulce periculum @forgottenpasta

summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part ½

tropicana @dragunjk

summary: groovy punch sippin

amaranthine @koyamuses

summary: As the sole owner of Nightshade, a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, you find pleasure in rising each morning to tend to your guests but behind closed doors and within the shadows, you are the covenant leader to a group of young vampires who have claimed you as their mate.More often than not, your day is brimming with a mix of daily chores and back door deals that ensure the survival of your covenant. However, everything changes when three werewolves come stumbling into your life, all three of them claiming it was your scent that drew them closer as the words true mate ring into the silence.

testosterone boys @kiwiscript

summary: A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far.

operation love letters @ve1vetyoongi

summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

our princess @iridescentjin

summary: In your newly established poly relationship, you are intimate with both Taehyung and Seokjin at the same time for the first time.

[embyrinitalics]

Whumptober 2020 No. 14 — Fire

Masterlist Word count: ~1780 Universe: Breath of the Wild; sequel to “No. 9 — Ritual Sacrifice” Pairings: Zelink Rating: K Themes: Fever, pair bonding Read on ao3

---

She couldn’t sleep. It was the dead of night, and the dragon was still roaring. When the sun had begun to set, she had her wits about her enough to scour the cave for anything useful before it was too dark to see. She found a few things, presumably his, that she gathered up and brought closer—a cooking pot, a cup, a few bundles of herbs, a small knife. She had ventured to the mouth of the cave and stuffed the cooking pot with snow before setting it beside him, letting his heat melt it into drinking water.

It had been hours and he hadn’t improved. She honestly hadn’t known what to expect—after the spring rite, when she had been chosen, the elders could tell her very little about what would happen once she was taken except that she wouldn’t be seen again—but she got the distinct impression this wasn’t normal. He was in too much pain to function, and she was barefoot and barely dressed. She wouldn’t survive long outside the protection of the cave and his heat. Unless he made a miraculous recovery, starvation was a real possibility.

She had to help him. Not that she was particularly thrilled with the idea, but he was her best chance of survival. Even if he had started off their relationship by snatching her off a frozen altar and then carrying her across the world with depraved intentions.

Another stream of fire erupted from his mouth, which had been happening fairly regularly—whenever the emberglow in his chest pulsed too bright. Fortunately, he always angled its trajectory towards the ceiling, though it was hard to say if that was a coincidence or something he did for her benefit. He hardly seemed to know she was there anymore. Still, it would be a while before he breathed fire again, so now was her chance.

She gingerly padded behind him in her bare feet, and then knelt and lifted his head onto her lap. She dipped the cup into the pot and brought the water to his mouth, cradling him so it would be easier to drink. He leaned for it when it touched his lips, lifting a trembling hand over hers to keep it close. He let his head fall back after he had downed it, panting, and she brushed his matted bangs away from his forehead.

“Can you drink another?” she asked, and he managed a weak nod.

She couldn’t help but marvel at his warmth as she helped him with a second cupful, radiating from his head on her lap to heat her right down to her toes. If there was any doubt he was what he was, that was evidence enough—though his Hylian form was very convincing, handsome even, with firm features, a tangle of sun-bleached hair, and, in the brief moments she had spied them, startlingly blue eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, hoarse and breathless, after he had emptied it again.

“More?”

“No,” he whispered, swallowing, and turned his face into her skirt.

Her brow furrowed as she watched him—the sudden, relieved sag of his shoulders, the deep, full breaths he drew, his electrifying, peaceful silence. She threaded her fingers at his temple, stroking his hair from his face, and he sighed, his breath washing through the fabric of her skirt to warm her knees. The knowledge that she could soothe him so easily made something strange and frightening stir in her chest.

“Do you have a name?”

That was a strange way to phrase the question. Who didn’t have a name? Maybe dragons didn’t, she thought idly, and raked her nails softly across his scalp when he trembled, his throat bobbing in discomfort, coaxing him through it.

“I’m Zelda,” she said.

He nodded, turning his face even deeper into her leg.

“It’s a good name,” he whispered.

“Are you…” Her mouth tugged towards a frown. But there was really no way to be delicate about it, was there? “Are you sick? Are you dying?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this before.”

The biting Hebra winds howled outside the cave and she held onto him a little tighter. Her thoughts were running everywhere, imagining one horrific scenario after another. Maybe he was already at death’s door, and she would be trapped and alone on that mountain within the hour. Maybe he would weaken until he was mad from hunger and turn on her in his dragon shape, cleaving her in two with his massive jaws before gulping her down. Maybe she could beat him to it, plunge his knife into his chest and steal his boots and his tunic and take her chances with the mountain.

She must have been overtired.

She set her lips into a line, leaning a little closer so the heat from him warmed her face.

“At the risk of sounding selfish, I need you alive,” she murmured. “I won’t last long up here without you.”

“I know.” He swallowed again thickly. “It’s the song.”

“What song?”

He met her eyes, his gaze so strikingly blue that it seemed to glow. He whispered, “Yours.”

She frowned, bemused, but his attention was already moving elsewhere. The emberglow pulsed in his breast, like a jewel strung on a chain beneath his tunic. But it wasn’t bright enough to worry her yet.

“I’m sorry about before. I don’t know what…” His eyes pinched closed, like talking about their first encounter made him hurt worse, and rolled onto his shoulder with a groan. “I need to get you off this mountain.”

He moved away from her in the dark, and then the cavern was warmer, darker, and she knew he had changed. He pushed his snout into her hands, slipping slowly past to encourage her to feel up his neck, to his shoulder, and then stopped in apparent invitation. Smooth, hot scales gave way to the leathery hilt of his wing just behind his shoulder, and she braced herself, one hand curled around his pinions and the other on his withers, and hoisted herself onto his back.

His spine twisted beneath her with the first, great step of his gait, and she sunk to her belly, both for an easier ride and for the heat. His shoulder muscles flexed and stretched as they stepped out of the cave onto the mountainside, his massive wings unfurling part way to protect her from the buffeting winds. It was too dark to see them, but she could make out their shape where they were blotting out the stars and the iceglow, hear the wind whistle and moan where it slipped along leathery seams. And once in a great while, the ember near his heart would burn too hot, and he would turn his head down into the mountain and breathe a whorl of fire that was eaten by the snow.

Nestled safely between his pinions, his rocking steps turning familiar, she rolled onto her back to watch the aurora borealis glimmer and ripple across the midnight sky, and eventually nodded off.

The sun rose as they rounded the East Summit.

She slipped higher up his neck to watch, shivering as she sacrificed some of his heat for the view. It was a clear morning, the ice crystals in the snow lit up in a glittering spectacle as the sunbeams breached the horizon, and the surrounding peaks casting massive, forbidding shadows. She had never seen a sunrise like it. She imagined few ever had.

With the light setting the dragon’s inky scales aflame, they began their descent. It was hardly smooth—more than once, huge snowdrifts gave out beneath them, carrying them too suddenly down to the next outcropping—but besides the sensation of her stomach flying into her throat, she was no worse for wear. The last bit of slope before they reached the south Snowfield gave way, and he changed, his body slipping out of its dragon shape as they slid into the valley so she landed in the snow with a squeak.

He was on his knees, arms around his middle and hair tangled every which way by the Tabantha winds, and for the first time it occurred to her that his condition might have been worsening all that time. She slid closer, urging him into the shelter of a few evergreens, and propped him up against one of the scabrous trunks. He steamed in the sun.

“Follow the road south,” he told her, panting. “There’s a village not far from here. They’ll help you.”

“What about you?”

His brow furrowed, like that was the strangest question he’d ever heard. Then he tugged her closer, turning his face into the hollow of her throat, and exhaled a long, penetrating breath into her skin, warming her from head to toe. Even when the wind blew again, she hardly felt the cold. He let his head fall back against the tree.

“Go home, Zelda.” He smiled weakly, a wry, scheming smile. “Tell your people their offering displeased me greatly, and if they do it again, I’ll burn down a village.”

Another gust tugged and pulled at them, willing them apart. But something kept her rooted. Something in the wind that sounded like a song.

“Did I?” she asked, breathless, and his smile faded.

“No,” he whispered, reaching to touch her mouth with a trembling hand. “You were perfect.”

She looked back towards the road, winding down towards a village and the way home, back to…

...back to what? A chance at a normal life? She had never found that notion particularly appealing. She had always longed for something more—for adventure, or magic, or at the very least something more than the pastoral confines of Necluda province. Offered up as a ritual sacrifice to a dragon wouldn’t necessarily have been her first choice, but now that it had happened, and she was here… the whole arrangement didn’t seem as awful as one might have imagined.

And he wouldn’t survive this fever much longer. Leaving him here meant leaving him to die.

So she did the only thing that made any sense to her in that dizzy, directionless moment. She scraped together her courage, watching the way his brow knitted when she lingered, and then shut her eyes before she could change her mind and kissed him. She was slow and inexperienced and not entirely sure what she was doing. But he didn’t need much more encouragement than that.

He pulled her into his lap, suddenly renewed, eagerly meeting her clumsy advances and then outpacing her, chasing her mouth as her fingers knotted in his hair. She melted further into his possessive hold, into the surprisingly pleasant heat of his tongue, into the sweet song climbing in her mind until she soared.

“Just don’t burn me,” she sighed against his mouth, breathless, and the fire in his eyes outshone the sun.

“Never.”

[monofpoke4life]

Datr Week 2020 Day One: Missing You

(Totally forgot yo upload this last year. I think I was unhappy with it, but I can’t remember why. Anyway, please enjoy)!

"So how'd you know to do that thing to Chunk earlier?" His young voice squeaked, echoing into the dark, shapeless abyss.

"Any enemy can be felled with the right jab. It's just a matter of knowing where to hit. Most are susceptible to major and vulnerable organs like the kidneys or liver. I am particularly fond of throat punches. They're ideal for stunning an opponent while leaving them alive for questioning." Replied a feminine and distinctly accented voice.

A frown tugged at the corner of his lips, yet all it did was morph a frown briefly into a pout and back.

He felt his brow furrow, as the world suddenly came into view. It was like turning on your phone in the middle of the night. Blinding and full of color at its sudden appearance, but it didn't strain his eyes as they continued on their walk. A set path expanding in front of them far beyond their view, but materializing in front of them with each new step. One he walked what felt like a million times before. No different than all of the other times he walked it. Just the same old sidewalk with the same old cracks that were on his way from the school to his house.

Certainly nothing looked out of the ordinary, and yet, this walk was entirely different. It would be one thing if it were just the electrified thrum in his veins or the ecstatic beat of his heart from the idea of catching Zim in one of his alien schemes or running home to watch a new episode of Mysterious Mysteries. However, it was neither of those things, and had everything to do with the young lady walking beside him.

There was a tingle in his leg, but he paid it no mind as he chuckled, "I'll keep that in mind the next time those bullies try to stuff me in the trash again." He shook his head at the memory from earlier that day, before he pointed out, "But you still never answered my question." Her steely gaze of rare, purple eyes flicked over to meet his own bespectacled gaze as he elaborated, "I know you're British, but come on, "keep them alive for questioning?" You sound like you're from MI6 or something. I mean, where do you learn techniques like that?"

"Girly Rangers," came her little too clipped reply as she turned her head, giving him her full, narrow eyed attention.

At that, his heart suddenly jumped into throat. He could easily get lost in her eyes. His breath quickened just a tad as a wave of nerves crashed into him. Both the expected good kind, and unexpectedly bad kind, settling sourly in his stomach.

They stared a moment later before he called her bluff, and she quipped, "If I didn't find the idea ludicrous myself I'd have swatted at you." She shook her head as a genuine smile graced her lips, before she looked up to the bare branches of the trees that lined their walk, as she continued, "My mother was in the military. You pick up a thing or two with those you live with."

He felt the pin prickling feeling of a chill run down his spine, starting at his neck, yet his body lacked the telltale twitch as he excitedly murmured, "That's so cool!" At that remark, the corner of her lips twitched into a proud smirk at his unsubtle praise. Realizing she heard him, his face grew hot. He wanted to turn away, crawl into a hole, but the sight of her amused, gentle smile kept his eyes riveted to hers. 

"S-so what else did she teach you? Anything useful I could use on my paranormal investigations?"

The anxiety in his gut increased, and a familiar dread set in, waiting patiently for his world to shatter. The kind of dread that makes somebody want to hide under a blanket from the world. Yet he heeded it no mind as his lips parted into a shy yet ecstatic smile.

"Sure, one more tip couldn't hurt," she said, murmuring the last part more to herself. "Well, body language is always telling. When someone is lying their eyes will look up and to the right because they’re tapping into the imaginative part of the brain.”

“Wow, so you’re like a walking, talking lie detector?”

“You can if you train yourself enough,” she said nonchalantly.

“Could you teach me?” He inquired as a fluttery feeling in his gut returned. His arm nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, a little too quickly, “Maybe you come over my house some time and-”

“I beg your pardon?” She inquired quizzically, yet something in her voice had an edge to it. Ice filled his veins at that, and he stammered and scrambled to recover, “I mean or your place is fine. Of course, only if you wanted to, but nobody ever usually wants to. Actually, no place is fine then. Look let’s just pretend this never happened and-”

His heart dropped from his chest only to roar within his ears as he felt a delicate finger lightly touch his lips. He froze. He didn’t dare to breathe let alone talk; meanwhile his eyes fixated upon the dainty appendage touching him. If he didn’t know better, a spark spread from her to him, electrifying him from the inside out. His whole body grew hot, and he felt like his brain would melt from the radiant blush that was surely upon his cheeks.

“Hm, so that’s where you’re off button is,” she mused aloud as she pulled her hand away. Her eyes shined with silent mirth. He gulped and could practically hear himself audibly swallow. Gawd she had to have known what that clever smile did to him! Forget his brain melting, he was going to melt into a puddle at her feet.

Dazed, he saw her lips move, yet didn’t hear a word she said.

“Sorry, I spaced out. What was that?”

“You shouldn’t apologize. It’s a sign of weakness,” she chided. He felt confused and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she continued, “I said that’s very kind of you, but unfortunately my parents and I are still adjusting from the move; however, once we’re settled, I’d love to come over.”

He blinked owlishly behind his round glasses. His flushed face cooling down within the time it took to sink in. However, when it did finally sink in, he grinned so hard his face felt like it could split in half.

“That’s great! I can’t wait until then! How long do you think that will take? Maybe a week? Oh I need time to prepare and clean my room-er-not that it’s not clean, I-” He abruptly cut off his ramble as he saw her finger raise once more. He skittered backwards with his trench coat flapping with his rapid movements. The usually heavy yet oddly light feeling backpack nearly threw him off balance, but he managed not to fall.

She snickered. His heart skipped a beat, and a warmth coalesced in his chest, emboldening him.

“How does this Saturday sound,” He asked with all of the courage and grace a socially outcast boy, like himself, could with his first real friend. The first person who made him feel secure and supported since...gawd, he couldn’t remember! He couldn’t think!

By that point they started walking again, and that dread came back tenfold. His untrained eyes followed her right hand as she tucked a dark blue strand of hair behind her ear. A gust of forceless wind slammed into them, and it appeared as though she turned her head to shield it from the winter wind. She was always honest with him up until that point, so he had no reason to doubt her. No reason to notice how the motion drew his attention away from her eyes.

But he knew to look for it now, and all of the other times his mind replayed it over and over again within his head. On this night, as it had so many times before, that dread feeling his gut finally crashed to the forefront as everything went dark, and squealing, victorious laughter surrounded him like a stereo system. 

He went to scream, to shout, warn her, anything! Yet nothing came out. In fact, she was gone. He whipped around in an attempt to find her. As he looked behind himself, he went to turn back around, and there she was in all of her green, alien, Irken glory as she rushed at him with pak leg raised. When she was so close he could see the darker, barely discernible, purple of her pupils did he finally gasp and rocket himself into an upright position. Eyes shooting open as he nearly fell out of bed.

His stomach roiled as a brief wave of vertigo hit him from moving too quickly, especially without his glasses. With the grace of a lean yet gangly teen, he leaned on his side towards the edge of the bed. His arm flopped onto the end table beside his bed, and he hung his head between the space that separated the two as he let the wave pass. He also took the time to catch his breath.

Once recovered, he raised his head to blearily look for his glasses in the dark. After a few near misses of lightly brushing against them, Dib finally managed to snag them. As he placed them upon his face, he frowned at the sight of the slight tremble of his hand.

At the reminder of his memory, that nightmare, Dib growled at himself as he flopped onto his back. He yelped and flinched as a sharp pain shot up his leg, having hit his ankle off of a bedpost. 

The pain quickly went away as swiftly as it came, and Dib huffed and sighed. His forearm falling back to rest upon his forehead. Barely awake and he was already exhausted. Of course, the fact that he had that blasted dream again didn't help at all.

At the thought of the dream again, Dib growled and rolled over onto his side, facing the wall and his open window. He knocked his glasses up towards his forehead as he rubbed his clenched shut eyes with the heel of his palms. If only he could forget and move on. That would make his life so much easier.

And yet...the thought of forgetting Tak or how she made him feel...he could never do it. Just the idea made his heart race into a panic and sent his mind into a whirlwind. His childhood crush aside, Tak was his first friend. A real friend, or so he thought.

Pfft, just his luck that his first friend turned out to be an alien who only talked to him for his information on Zim. The thought triggered a dull, painful ache to grow within Dib's chest. One more powerful than the pain of her trying to destroy the earth. With him on it.

Dib shifted his right arm under his pillow to further support his head while he opened his eyes to pensively glare at his drumming fingers.

"Four freaking years and I still can't get you out of my head," he grumbled to one person in particular. Not that she'd ever hear him, being flung into space in her ship's escape pod and all.

The pod. Possibly drifting aimlessly in the vacuum of space. Cold and lifeless as the metal shell encasing Ta- 

He shook his head to dispel the direction of his thoughts. However, he didn't do it fast enough as he felt the slight burning tingle of his eyes welling up with tears only for one to slide down his cheek.

He grumbled some more as he wiped it away and gazed up at the midnight blue sky. The busy tizzy of his mind slowed down to a crawl as he closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. In and out. Find his happy place and think happy thoughts, or at least ones different from those that woke him up.

It almost worked too, as the angry tension in his muscles slowly evaporated from his body. His limbs became noodle-like and his facial muscles relaxed. The drumming stopped, and his mind drifted into a hazy fog of nothingness. He liked the nature of the nothingness. By definition, there was nothing there. Nothing that could potentially hurt him physically or mentally.

In and out. He pondered the nothingness, and how something so endless in area and possibilities could give him a sense of security, like being wrapped within a warm blanket.

Then, Dib's mind drifted to the thought of security, as it always did. The lack of it, how he could hold onto it, how he could find it within himself or others, and then finally when was the last time he felt it.

"Ya know they're wrong, right?" Tak's voice echoed from a memory that felt like decades ago. 

His younger self jumped at that, looking over at her from where she sat beside him in the library. She'd broken him out of a very important task...which was to stare morosely at his unopened book.

"Hm, what was that," He inquired, trying to sound tired to hide the sadness in his tone.

Her purple eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. As per usual her penetrating gaze felt like she could see right inside him, reading him like an open book. However, she chose to ignore it in favor of the topic at hand. 

"I said, ya know they're wrong, right? About you?"

His eyes widened in surprise at that.

"O-oh?" He paused a moment, before his brow furrowed and he inquired further, "About what exactly?" It wasn't like he didn't believe Tak. Dib had no reason to doubt her, but years had cautioned him to not get his hopes up. 

He watched her frown a moment as she paused. The question caught her off guard as she clearly thought it would be a one and done statement. However, ever the perfectionist, she persisted to speak her opinion of him.

Glaring at the pencil she twisted between her fingers, she elaborated, "Well, a lot of things. The most prominent, though, is that you're not crazy for being different, for believing in the paranormal."

He sat up straighter at that as he continued to stare in astonishment, watching her wearily for any sign of a lie. He found none, but still felt the need to ask, "Really, you mean that?"

"Of course! There's nothing wrong with being different. It-" She trailed off at that. He ignored the part of his brain that thought her brow furrowed pensively was cute. This was a serious, heartfelt situation, and it wasn't the time to make googly eyes at someone who probably didn't like him that way.

He opened his mouth to offer a word, in order to help her along, but she continued before he could.

"It doesn't make you wrong. You- you're not- you're not defective." At the word "defective," it came out of Tak's mouth with as much disdain as one would use when talking about the city's cesspool, and her gaze immediately snapped up to look him in the eye.

A part of Dib felt like she wasn't just talking to him at that moment, especially as shortly after she said it, she unconsciously snapped the pencil in half. It made him wonder who hurt her or called her that in the past, what was their address, and could he beat them up. Well, maybe die trying, but preferably not.

The other part of Dib felt like she meant every single word. Even after everything that would happen later, he still felt she meant it. The way her determined stare carved into his very soul, refusing to look away until he agreed with her. How those amethyst orbs tenaciously glared and willed him to take to heart her words of wisdom, but most importantly; the earnest, raw edge of emotion that slipped into her voice. 

No matter how brilliant of an actor she was, she couldn't fake that.

The full meaning of her words combined with her body language finally sank in and a blissful warmth settled in his chest. It quickly spread to every neuron and nerve until it felt like pure happiness, contentment, and safety was going to erupt from his mouth in the form of the widest grin he'd ever make.

However, he had enough sense to not grin at her like a fool or madman. His entire body thrummed with energy and oddly a sense of calm. 

For once in his life he felt relaxed, safe, peaceful even. Relaxed to just let things play out, and to have faith in her as his friend, as he did for her. He could say or do anything, and she'd have his back, always giving her 110 percent. It felt...blissful.

However, that bliss couldn't last, just like the nothingness as the memory faded in exchange with his conscious state. Before it fully faded, he remembered he got her to laugh

 Not a laugh at someone's misfortune, like Zim, or being victorious against those bullies, like Chunk, but a genuine, gentle laugh with a small smile to match.

The memory faded, and he opened his tear filled eyes once more. As they dripped onto his pillow, he curled in on himself. His heart was as erratic as his breathing. Trying not to sob aloud kind of does that to you.

Gawd how he missed that feeling of security, of being supported, of someone having his back, and boy did he miss the one who made him feel that way.

Ironic how an alien could act more and treat him like a human than the real humans. And there's a high chance that all of that was fake. If it wasn't, well, it was four years too late to think about that.

A choked sob escaped his lips as he angrily sighed out the window, "I hate that I miss you."

[ft-dads-au]

Castles in the Snow

A collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​

Gratsu Winter Solstice 2020 Prompt: Fun in the Snow Pairing: Gray x Natsu

AO3 | FF.Net

January 6th, 2021

“Have you figured out the answer yet?” Gray asked, trying to remain patient even though it was clear to him that Natsu wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the math problem he was supposed to be working on.

“What?” Natsu finally stopped staring out the window long enough to glance at Gray with a guilty expression that he couldn’t help but find incredibly cute.

Hana, Atlas, and Aki were glued to the window as well, oohing and aahing as the backyard accumulated more and more snow.

“What’s the matter with you guys? You’re all acting like you’ve never seen snow before.”

“Well, I mean, they sort of haven’t. It didn’t really snow that much in Edolas, a few inches at the most,” Natsu reminded him, “This is the first big snowfall they’ve ever seen, and they’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”

The longing in Natsu’s eyes made it clear that the kids weren’t the only ones who had been looking forward to it. To his credit, he did try to shift his focus back to studying, staring at the problem he was supposed to solve for about five minutes before his eyes strayed back to the window again.

“Fine, fine, you win,” Gray sighed, realizing any further attempts would be pointless and that Aki would probably love to go out with Atlas and Hana in the snow. “Let’s go play.”

He snorted when his words were immediately met with cheers and dazzling smiles.

“Are you sure?” Natsu asked, “I know I can get this if I keep at it.”

“There’s no point. Your mind’s clearly out there,” Gray shrugged. “We can take a break for one day. It won’t mess up anything. Besides, how can you expect me to say no to those faces?” He nodded towards the kids, who were staring at them with big, pleading eyes, bouncing on their feet in anticipation. “I guess you’re right,” Natsu chuckled and closed his math book as he got up. He stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and expose part of his abdomen, and now it was Gray’s turn to be distracted.

Hana dashed to the coat closet to grab her winter gear and put it on, all the while telling them all the things she wanted to do once they got outside.

“Do you have stuff for Aki?” Natsu asked, his lips twitching at Hana’s running commentary. “I think Erza got two sets for Atlas. He’s welcome to borrow one.”

“Nah, I’ve got his stuff in the car. I’ll be right back.”

Gray put on his jacket and went outside, stopping briefly to collect some of the snow that had accumulated on the steps into his gloved hand and examining it, grinning when he saw how well it stuck together. Perfect snow for playing, fluffy and wet.

He felt his own excitement build. Winter had always been his favorite season, and some of his fondest memories were of playing in the snow with his parents and Rogue once he was a bit older. They’d had snowball fights, built snowmen, collapsed on the snow to make angels, and careened down ever higher hills on sleds for hours, returning home to hot cocoa and cookies as their mom complained that their lips were a worrying shade of blue.

Gray still treasured those memories and looked forward to doing some of those things with Aki now that he was old enough. He rushed back inside, beginning the long process of bundling his son up into his winter gear.

Thankfully Atlas was there to distract him, chattering excitedly as Natsu got him ready. It was only when both boys were dressed that Gray shifted his attention.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put anything else on?” Gray mocked, amused by the ridiculous amount of clothing Natsu was wearing. Snow pants tucked over his snow boots, a padded jacket, the checkered scarf he often wore, a balaclava under a woolen hat, and thick gloves.

“It’s cold,” Natsu shrugged, then looking him over, he urged, “Shouldn’t you get ready? The kids are getting impatient.”

“I am ready, Sunshine.”

Natsu gaped at him, or so Gray imagined since the only part of his face that he could really make out was his eyes.

“You can’t be serious. You’re going to freeze!”

“And you call me a princess? I hate to break it to you, but it’s not even that cold. I’ve got gloves and my jacket. I’m good.” He opened the door that led to the backyard and walked out with Aki and Atlas following close behind. Hana dashed past him in a purple blur.

Snow continued to fall, although the heaviest part of the storm seemed to be over, and Gray stuck his tongue out, trying to catch snowflakes as he’d done when he was little and smiling at the familiar tingle.

Gray thought he saw Natsu staring at him, but it was too brief for him to be sure. He shrugged it off, switching his attention to the boys and chuckling at their antics. Atlas had lain down on the snow and was rolling himself around, turning into a human snowball as more and more snow stuck to him while Natsu somehow managed to take pictures on his phone.

Aki was busy alternating between admiring the snow that stuck to his mittens with an awed expression and giggling at the crunching noise his boots made when he moved, causing Gray’s heart to swell. He quickly took a few pictures to show his parents and walked over to encourage him to play with the others.

He stopped short when he saw the misshapen blob that Hana and Natsu were cobbling together.

“What is that supposed to be?”

“What do you mean? It’s a snowball, obviously.” Natsu held up his creation with a lot more pride than it deserved.

“That thing has no business calling itself a snowball,” Gray scoffed, “It’s going to fall apart in the air long before it hits anything.”

“Will not.”

“Oh yeah? Go ahead, throw it at me.”

Natsu hurled the snowball, but Gray didn’t even bother moving, and just as he expected, it never hit.

"Told you," he said smugly and squatted down to grab some snow off the ground, skillfully shaping it into an almost perfect ball. "My turn," he flashed a wicked grin and threw the snowball, watching with childish glee as it soared through the air and hit Natsu square in the face.

“Hey, no fair, you’re not supposed to throw them in people’s faces,” Natsu protested, wiping the snow off his face with his glove.

“I figured you wouldn’t even feel it through all that padding,” he teased, making no effort to apologize. “That’s what a real snowball feels like.”

“How’d you get it to pack like that?”

“Here, let me show you, and then we can have ourselves a real fight,” Gray offered before Natsu could get it into his head to retaliate. “You too, Hana.”

He cupped some snow between his hands, rotating them slowly to help fuse the snow together. “You just gotta make sure to press down firmly when you rotate your hands. That packs the snow in real good and keeps it from falling apart midair.”

Hana and Natsu watched eagerly as he explained, imitating his actions. Their first efforts were pretty pitiful.

“Just keep at it. Those already look better,” he encouraged, “ You’ll know you’re doing it right when you can stack them up.”

He noticed Aki gazing at the trees with interest and picked him up, walking over towards the nearest one so his son could touch one of its branches, delighting at his laugh when the snow came down. Gray kissed Aki’s chubby cheek and whispered, “I love you, kiddo.”

“I did it!”

Hana’s exalted cry was cut short as the stack of snowballs she’d worked so hard on toppled over when Atlas attempted to grab one.

“Hey!” she started to protest, but whatever expression Atlas had on his face changed her mind, causing her to dissolve into giggles instead.

The sound of Hana’s laughter drew Aki’s attention, and he wiggled in Gray’s arms, wanting to be put down to go investigate what his friends were up to.

Gray obliged, watching as Hana and Natsu created stacks of snowballs for Atlas to topple, and when Aki joined in, he began to make some as well, amused by how easily the two boys were entertained. After a bit, Natsu changed up the game, showing them how to stack the snowballs instead.

He had to admit that his friend was pretty good with kids, which was probably not a huge surprise, considering he seemed to be a big kid himself. It made Gray wonder what parenting might have been like if he’d been married to someone like that.

He analyzed Natsu’s backyard, trying to distract himself from any thoughts of his ex. He was soon struck with an idea.

“Hey Natsu, you got any snow shovels?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

Natsu waddled over to the small shed that sat on their driveway, returning with two adult shovels and two child-sized ones. “What do you have in mind?”

“How do you feel about putting a small sledding hill in for the kids?”

“I think it’s a great idea, just surprised you came up with it, “ Natsu’s eyes crinkled, and Gray could easily visualize the accompanying grin underneath the balaclava. “I bet I can shovel more snow than you, though.”

“In your dreams, Squinty Eyes.”

They decided on an area and began shoveling snow into a large pile and packing it down while Hana kept the boys entertained.

“Getting tired yet?” Natsu huffed.

“This is nothing. I could go all day,” he smirked, noticing Natsu’s discomfort, “You seem pretty done, though.”

“In your dreams, Droopy Eyes.” Natsu unzipped his jacket to reveal a fleece liner underneath, “I’m just getting started.”

“Droopy?! And here I’ve been told they’re one of my best features,” Gray retorted, as he climbed to the top of the makeshift hill, ensuring the snow was packed in well enough. “I think we can stop now. This is probably tall enough for them. You’ll have to impress me with your stamina another time.”

Natsu’s eyes widened in disbelief before he exploded into a fit of raucous laughter.

“Is it ready?” Hana asked, rushing over to them with Atlas and Aki chasing after her.

“Yep, go get your sled from the shed, and can you bring that little inflatable one?”

“Yeah,” Hana ran off, returning with a pink saucer sled and a folded up piece of vinyl, which she handed over to her father to inflate.

“I got it. Wouldn’t want you to have to take off anything,” Gray grabbed the sled out of Natsu’s hands, finding the plastic tube and blowing into it until it had filled up.

Hana climbed the steps he’d carved into the snow with the kid shovels and sat down on her sled, squealing loudly when he gave her a firm push. She slid down the hill, her sled continuing to travel for several feet, leaving a trail in the snow. She was up as soon as her sled stopped, running back to them with a massive smile on her face.

“That was awesome!”

Gray couldn’t help but grin in response, pleased that he’d been able to make her so happy with such a simple act. He wondered how Aki would respond, and knowing his timid nature, he asked Natsu to have Atlas go first.

The sled had a little seat belt built into it, which was nice because the last thing on Atlas’ mind was holding on. He cackled all the way down and then chatted excitedly to Natsu as they returned.

Aki pulled on his leg, eager to take his turn, and Gray helped him into the sled. He let him have a moment to get used to it before nodding to Natsu to give him a push. Although his response to the experience was more muted than the two Dragneel kids, it was no less joyful, and Gray hid his face, fighting back unexpected tears at watching Aki lead a life more in line with what he’d always wanted for him.

Rather than tease him for getting overly emotional, Natsu offered him a half hug and went back to helping the kids sled down the hill until he was ready to rejoin them. It was gestures like that that made him wish that Natsu would see him as someone he could love, rather than just a good friend.

“Dada!”

Aki’s excited cries called him back, and they stayed out until the kids’ teeth began chattering from the cold.

0-0 After they’d helped the kids get out of their layers and put all the winter gear away, Natsu moved to the kitchen. He filled a large glass measuring cup with water, placed it in the microwave, and then started searching through the cabinets. “Do you want some hot cocoa?” he asked Gray once he’d found what he was looking for: a box full of packets of instant hot cocoa powder. “Sorry, what?” Gray stared at him in a mixture of horror and pure disbelief. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” “Huh?” Natsu puzzled, completely lost as to what he meant. “Whatever you think that is-” Gray pointed an accusing finger at the box, “I'm not drinking it. Move over.” He did a quick check through the fridge and the cupboards to make sure Natsu had everything he needed to make real hot cocoa and got to work. Meanwhile, Natsu piled a mountain of cookies onto a plate to go along with it, laughing when Atlas and Aki came begging one off him before he’d even finished. Natsu’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly wiped the cookie crumbs off his hands before checking it. Gray watched his brows knit together as he focused on the message, but his expression soon turned into one of joy and relief. “Well, looks like I get tonight off. Jellal told me not to bother coming in. It’s been quiet all day because of the snow,” he reported happily as he put his phone away again. “You should stay for dinner. The roads are crap anyway.”

“You sure? We wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Sure, we’ve got plenty of frozen pizzas,” Natsu opened the freezer, pointing to an alarming amount of pizza boxes.

“Is that all you eat?” Gray asked in horror.

“Hah, well,” Natsu threaded his fingers through his hair in an embarrassed gesture, “Erza’s the one who usually cooks. She gets those for us for when she’s not around. Oh! I should let her know she doesn’t have to hurry back.”

He pulled out his phone and began texting his sister as Gray mulled the invitation over. He hadn’t really been looking forward to going home yet. Lyon would still be at work, and he knew the apartment would feel empty after having spent the afternoon surrounded by Natsu’s warmth.

That decided him.

“Fine, I’ll stay, but we’re not having frozen pizza.” He rolled his sleeves up and headed to the sink to wash his hands, thinking about the limited number of things he knew how to make.

He opened their pantry and breathed a sigh of relief when he found two boxes of pasta and a few jars of sauce. “Make yourself useful, fill a big pot with water and put it on the stove,” he demanded, moving stuff around to see what ingredients he could use to add to the sauce.

“I dunno, Erza uh- doesn’t really like it when I use the stove,” Natsu murmured, avoiding Gray’s gaze.

“Why? What did you do, set the kitchen on fire?” Gray blurted, laughing at how absurd that was.

When his joke was received with silence instead of the angry denials he’d been expecting, he glanced up to find Natsu quietly pouring the hot cocoa into mugs and placing them on the table in the breakfast nook along with the cookies. He called the kids over and walked back into the kitchen, still avoiding direct eye contact.

“Oh my God, you did! Didn’t you?!”

“It was an accident!” Natsu protested, “I was making dinner when Atlas’ diaper overfilled, and I had to deal with it. By the time I was done with that, I had forgotten the stove was on.”

Gray wanted to give him a hard time about it, but he could absolutely see that happening. He was well aware of how unreliable Natsu’s attention span was at the best of times. It was the one thing they struggled with the most during their study sessions.

“Well, I’ll be the one cooking, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” Gray assured him, pointing him towards the sink once again.

“What about knives? Are you allowed near those, Pyro?” he taunted as he tossed him an onion to chop.

“It was an accident!” Natsu complained, and when that did nothing to stop the teasing, he pouted, “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Gray smirked, quite pleased that he might have finally found a nickname to counter the dreaded Princess.

“Jerk,” Natsu muttered, grabbing a knife and attempting to chop the onion.

They worked in somewhat comfortable silence. As usual, Natsu couldn’t stay mad for long, and soon he was telling Gray funny stories about people he’d met at work, while Gray told him about some of the places he’d traveled to for shoots.

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” Natsu commented, pulling out plates from the cupboards and walking off to set the table.

“You’re not exactly dead yet, you know,” Gray called out, pouring the pasta into a colander and checking on the sauce one last time before turning off the stove.

“Yeah, but come on, when am I ever going to be able to afford it or have the time?”

Gray had no answer to that, so he changed the subject instead, “Food’s ready.”

“Hey, you wanna watch a movie after? There’s this one about dragons and vikings we’ve wanted to watch.”

“How to Train your Dragon?”

“You’ve seen it?”

“I went to the premiere,” Gray explained, but when he saw how disappointed Natsu looked by his admission, he hastily added, “But who really watches the movie at those things, it’s all photo ops and gossip. I’d love to watch it.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, either. Siegrain had felt slighted by some industry bigwig and had spent most of the movie complaining about it. But honestly, even if he’d seen it a hundred times, he’d gladly watch it again if it meant he could experience the beaming smile Natsu flashed his way.

The sun had long ago set by the time they finished eating their dinner, and it wasn’t hard to see that all three kids were going to conk out as soon as they were still for any amount of time. Natsu didn’t seem to notice, though, and Gray didn’t have the heart to dampen his enthusiasm. Not when he was practically bouncing as he went around making popcorn for everyone. Gray volunteered to load the dishwasher, claiming, much to Natsu’s chagrin, that he didn’t want to be responsible for his being banned from yet another kitchen appliance.

Natsu lit the fireplace, placing the screen securely in front while Gray settled the boys on the sofa. After a frantic search for the remote, they were finally ready. They sat down next to each other as the opening credits played. Aki climbed onto Gray’s lap, and Atlas did the same with Natsu, while Hana snuggled up next to her father.

As Gray had predicted, all three kids were out ten minutes later, and then it was just the two of them again, talking and laughing along with the movie. Gray ached to stretch his arm and pull Natsu closer to him, even as Aki snored quietly against him.

He stopped paying attention to the movie, frustrated by how his infatuation with Natsu kept growing outside of his control. Today had only made it worse, enticing him with all the things he’d always wanted in a relationship but had given up on somewhere along the way.

The sound of loud snores startled him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head to discover Natsu had also fallen asleep, his neck tilted at an awkward angle.

Gray stretched his arm, wrapping it around Natsu’s shoulders and slowly pulling him into his chest so he could rest more comfortably. Natsu muttered something in his sleep, snuggling into him with a faint smile that he found adorable.

He sat quietly, content to let everyone sleep while he watched over them, and let himself imagine that maybe, someday, this pocket of happiness could belong to the two of them.

[soopersara]

Fuse

Zutara Week 2020: Day 3

AO3 | FFN

@zutaraweek

A rainstorm separates Katara from her friends and when she takes shelter in a nearby barn, she finds Zuko already inside.

Katara liked the rain. Being surrounded by her own element so far from home and so far from a real body of water was nice. She could be perfectly at home anywhere in the world as long as there was water around.

But when it came fast enough that it dislodged her tent stakes from the ground and sent the whole tent, Katara included, rocketing down the slope, she found that she didn't exactly love the rain.

She clambered out of the mangled remains of her tent, aching from her rapid, unceremonious descent into the valley. It hadn't been her idea to pitch her tent so close to the edge. But after Toph had erected an earth tent smack in the middle of the little plateau, there was barely enough space for Sokka's tent on the upper end of the plateau and Katara's on the lower. And then a few minutes of torrential rain had been enough to send her sailing downward like her tent was some sort of flimsy raft.

Scowling, she examined what was left of the tent. The poles were snapped, and the tarp torn straight down the middle. Perfect. It was still raining as hard as ever, and her only shelter was destroyed. Grumbling, she pushed aside the poles. Her sleeping bag was still in one piece, though muddy and wet, and her pack had split down the side, but all its contents appeared to be in one piece. She spread one half of the tarp out flat and dumped her things—the sleeping bag, her clothes, her mending kit, and a few other small packages—into the center. It would be a wet, messy makeshift bag, but with her pack split open, it was the best she had.

Once she had all of her things bundled into a lumpy, dripping mass, she threw it over her shoulder. She'd have to dry everything out once she got back to camp. Sokka's tent wasn't big, but there would be enough room for her to share with him, at least until the rain stopped.

But it seemed that the rain had other plans for her. When she started up the hill, she made it only a few steps before her right foot skidded out from underneath her, and she fell backward, sliding down past the debris that used to be her tent. Ouch. Her whole right side and part of her back felt bruised, and now she was coated in thick, sticky mud to boot.

She pushed herself to her feet again. Climbing clearly wasn't going to work. Even when she tried to freeze a patch of the greasy mud, it was no easier to stand on. She'd never make it all the way back up to the top of the hill while it was raining, and she ached enough already. Even if she healed all of her bruises, it wouldn't do much good if she made it halfway up the hill only to slide back down to the bottom anyway.

Katara bent some of the mud out of her clothes, rain still pelting down on her. Shelter. She had to find shelter somewhere down in the valley to wait out the storm.

And when she looked around, she thought she could make out a distant cluster of buildings through the grayish haze. That would have to do.

Her feet slid through the mud, and thick, slimy clumps of it stuck to the bottoms of her boots, but she slogged on ahead. Cleaning herself up while she was still out in the rain wouldn't help. Nor would bending the rain away from her head. Or mending her bruised and aching limbs. All of that would take energy, and she couldn't afford to spare any until she was inside, out of the rain.

As she drew nearer, the buildings took shape into a farm. She could make out a barn, and a few pens full of moosows and pig deer, and a turkeychicken hutch. She made for the barn. There was probably a house somewhere around here too, a house with people who would be more than willing to let her in—but it was wet and cold, and the rain couldn't last too much longer. There was no use in bothering the people if she would only be here an hour or two. At least she hoped that it would only be an hour or two.

The doors were huge and heavy, and Katara's feet slipped when she tried to pull them open. She grumbled, planted her mud-encrusted boots more firmly, and managed to haul one of them open by a few inches. Good enough. She shoved her makeshift bag through the opening first, then squeezed in after it, wincing when her bruised side bumped against the rough wood. She got wedged in halfway through the opening, and with a grunt of effort, pushed against the wall with all her might until she toppled through the space and the door swung open after her.

Ouch. She hauled herself back to her feet and glared at the now-open door. Perfect. That was typical for today.

But she was inside, finally, and when she bent the water out of her clothes—unfortunately, the mud was so caked into the fabric that she couldn't do much about that—she stayed dry. She crouched to untie her makeshift bag when she heard a footstep behind her, and spun around to see a pair of swords aimed her direction.

"Who are you, and what do you think you're doing here?"

She blinked into the dark interior of the barn. She thought she knew that voice, the harsh, gravelly tone—and then the swords lowered a fraction, and she could make out a pale, pinched face and a huge crimson scar over the left eye.

"Zuko?"

⁂

It took a second for him to recognize the waterbender in the semi-darkness. Though she'd apparently done her best to dry herself off, she was practically coated in mud, her usual braid was—there, but falling apart so badly that it looked more like a disheveled broom than anything else, and she looked much smaller, much less threatening when she was crouched down and not wielding ropes of water.

But then she sprang to her feet, summoning blobs of water to both hands, and recognition landed heavy over him. That was her. That was definitely her.

Of all the rotten luck in the world, Zuko's had to be the worst. It wasn't bad enough that he was crossing an enemy nation alone, practically without supplies and without any way of supporting himself short of stealing. He had no money left, he couldn't convince himself to steal food from families, and to add insult to injury, the Earth Kingdom soldiers had stolen the few meager supplies he'd managed to buy.

Then that little boy had taken Zuko home, and it should have been a bright spot in an otherwise terrible week, but instead, the heaviest rainstorm in months had rolled in overnight, and Zuko was all but stranded in the barn without food, and now—now—

"What are you doing here?" the waterbender demanded.

Zuko let his swords drop a bit. Was he imagining things? He was fairly certain he'd just asked her the same question.

"This is the Earth Kingdom, you don't belong here."

He raised his good eyebrow. "I could say the same for you, waterbender."

She gave an incoherent yell of rage, drawing more water from the deluge outside, encasing her arms with it. "I'm not the enemy. You are. What are you doing here?"

"This is my barn!" Even before the words came out, they felt wrong, and Zuko stopped himself. "I mean, I'm staying here. I don't have a barn."

The waterbender cocked her head to the side, looking just as confused as he felt. "You—you're—" She shook her head and strengthened her stance. "You don't belong here, Zuko. Leave, or I'll find the farmers and tell them that they have a squatter hiding in their barn."

He threw his hands up. The dramatic gesture probably wasn't the best idea with swords still in his hands, he realized when one of the blades smacked into an overhead beam and knocked a cloud of dust down on his head. He coughed and fanned at the air.

"The farmers invited me to stay," he rasped when the dust cleared. "If anyone's a squatter, it's you."

"What?" The waterbender's stance slackened, and Zuko noticed that her right arm moved a little slower, a little stiffer than the left. "Why? Why would they invite you to stay?"

Frankly, Zuko was still wondering the same thing himself. Sure, their son had vouched for him after he'd lied to keep the boy out of trouble, but that was nothing. Certainly not enough to justify giving a ragged drifter like himself a place to sleep. He shrugged. "I helped their kid or something. I don't know. I thought they were going to throw me out last night, but they didn't, so—I'm here."

"How did you help their kid?" She still held her murky globes of water, but her stance looked less fight-ready than before.

Zuko wasn't exactly braced up to fight either, he realized. Aside from the swords in his hands, he was just—standing.

"I saw the kid play a prank on a couple of thugs. I lied to the thugs about what happened."

The waterbender narrowed her eyes at him. For a long moment, he stared back. He didn't owe her any further explanation. He had permission to be here. She didn't. Granted, the family didn't know who he was, but Zuko wouldn't stay long. He couldn't expect more than what they'd already given him, and once the rain passed, he'd leave. But for now, while the storm raged on, he had at least as much right to be here as she did.

Finally, the waterbender spoke again. "Are you going to attack me?"

He huffed. "Depends. Are you going to attack me?"

She didn't quite ease out of her stance, but he watched her waver. She jutted out her chin. "I'm not going back outside in this storm."

He didn't exactly want her to stay—he had enough problems without the waterbender there to rub it in, and he didn't care for company, especially when there was a chance that he'd have to explain her presence to the Earth Kingdom family—but over her shoulder, he could see the rain still coming so hard that the whole world was gray and indistinct. And the waterbender looked miserable. Zuko was many things, but he wasn't a monster.

"I didn't tell you to." He sheathed his swords and crossed his arms.

She shifted, and slowly lowered her hands. "I've got my eye on you," she said, and edged around her pile of supplies, and crouched again, still watching him.

Zuko shook his head. He didn't have the energy to deal with her right now. As miserable as she looked, he didn't feel much better. The rain had started in the night, and since he was staying in the barn, there were no supplies he could find without venturing out into the storm. So he hadn't eaten yet this morning. That made—four days? Almost four days. One bowl of soup in the midafternoon and a scant meal yesterday evening hardly made up for the three days he'd gone without food before, and now his stomach was beginning to cramp again.

He should have moved on already. This family couldn't afford to feed another mouth, and Zuko wouldn't find any better prospects until he left the arid plains behind. Maybe if he'd braved the rain, he could have gotten ahead of the storm and pushed his ostrich horse hard enough to reach richer lands in a few days. Maybe he could already be partway to—wherever he was going. If he knew where that was.

Or maybe he'd just be lost and dripping wet with no more idea of where to go than he had now.

Zuko slumped back into the mound of hay. The waterbender was lucky. At least she had somewhere to go.

He stared up at the rafters, watching from the corner of his eye as the waterbender pulled the moisture out of her supplies and sent it out the door in a smooth, neat wave. She gave a little gasp, and Zuko looked her way again to see her wince and rub her right shoulder.

He shouldn't care. He didn't. He couldn't care about—her.

"What happened?" he asked involuntarily.

She scowled across the barn at him. "I got caught in a rainstorm."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well then you're going to have to be more specific. A lot of things have happened." She tried to kneel and winced again, then settled for resting her weight on her left side.

Zuko sighed and sat up. "Why are you here? Aren't you travelling with the Avatar?"

The waterbender paused in the middle of picking through her things to fix him with a stare. "I am. And I'm not telling you where he is."

That had barely even occurred to him. He was too tired, too hungry, too lost to even consider capturing the Avatar. He wasn't sure he could keep himself alive out here, much less haul the Avatar back to the coast, hire a boat, and—Zuko shook himself. Not now. He couldn't do any of that right now.

"I meant," he amended, "How did you get separated?"

She and her friends had always seemed inseparable, like they actually—actually cared about each other. He swallowed back a pang of envy. Zuko didn't need anyone like that. He was fine on his own.

The waterbender made a face. "An earthbender was a jerk, I set my tent in a bad place, then it rained and my tent tried to find out what it felt like to be a raft." She turned over a small package bound in some type of skin and pulled at the twine holding it shut. "I was at the bottom of the valley before I knew what was happening."

That certainly explained the wincing. The hills around the farm weren't exactly small or gradual. It was a wonder that she wasn't more seriously hurt.

"Uggghhhhhhhh." She let the little package fall open and dropped her head into her hands.

"What?" Zuko pushed himself to his feet again. "What happened?"

She pinched the soggy package by the corner. "My brother didn't close the package after he stole some of my seal jerky."

Oh. Zuko had never eaten seal jerky before, he had no idea what it tasted like, or even if it was worth eating, but his stomach clenched. The thought of food—any food—was almost too much to bear.

The waterbender frowned and passed a hand over her food. A few murky-looking droplets came out, but her expression didn't look any more cheerful than before.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I don't suppose you have any food?"

Zuko looked away, feeling his own forehead crease. He folded his arms over his empty, complaining stomach. "No."

"Do you want some wet seal jerky before it spoils?"

⁂

Zuko looked at her like she'd grown an extra head. Hey. That was rude. She was offering him some of her extremely limited food supply, and he had the nerve to make faces at her because it wasn't entirely appetizing. She didn't want to eat wet jerky either, but it was the only food either of them had, and she couldn't pull out any more of the moisture. For now, it would be edible, but in another day, it might start to mold or worse. What good would it do to let most of her food spoil when she could share it now?

But if he didn't want it, if he was too proud to share what little food she had, then—then he'd just have to stay hungry.

She scowled at him. "Fine. If it's not good enough for your refined palate, I'll just let the other half go bad. Or maybe the moosows will want a treat when the storm is over."

Zuko's good eyebrow drew downward. He looked—dejected? Almost? Not for the first time, she was struck by how thin his face had become, by the dark rings around his eyes. Or eye. The scarred one looked as normal as it ever did.

"I—" He shook his head and his arms seemed to clamp tighter around his stomach. "If that's what you want to do, fine. See if I care."

Judging by the tension in his voice and the way his shoulders drew up around his ears, he cared a lot. Not that Katara was going to let that change anything. If he was going to be a jerk, she'd be a jerk right back at him.

Zuko stomped back to his pile of hay and slumped into it again, turning his back on her, and curled inward.

Katara poked the soggy mess of jerky and made a face at it. She was hungry, but not that hungry yet. Not hungry enough to eat mushy, soaked jerky. When she found her way back to the others, Sokka was going to get such a lecture about stealing her food and how to close things properly. Maybe if he'd kept his nose out of her stuff or at least closed it when he was through, she wouldn't be here, in a barn, still damp and aching from her unceremonious descent from the top of the hill with no food worth eating and Prince Zuko of all people.

"Why are you even here?" she asked sharply. "Aren't you supposed to be off with your uncle and the rest of your Fire Nation friends?"

Zuko shook his head but didn't turn back toward her.

"What, did they leave you behind?"

That earned her a scowl, but he turned his head away again. "Partly."

Katara stopped. Despite the scowl, he didn't sound particularly angry. "How do you get partly left behind?"

"The Fire Nation tried to take me and my uncle back as prisoners, then left us for dead. Then I left my uncle." He peered back over his shoulder for a second. "It's not complicated."

Easy for him to say. It sounded very complicated to Katara. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing when she put her weight on her bruised leg.

"How long have you been alone?" The question surprised her as it came out, but she decided not to correct herself.

"A week?" His tone was uncertain, and he looked up into the rafters. "Maybe more."

A week. Katara had never been alone that long. Sometimes two or three nights without Sokka when he went hunting back home, but Gran-Gran had always been there. And since leaving home, she'd been surrounded by strangers, but she'd never gone more than one night without Sokka or Aang nearby.

"Do you like being alone?"

Zuko rolled onto his back, his forehead creasing as he stared upward. "I thought I would. But it's—when it's quiet, it's a lot harder to forget that there's nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep." He looked toward the package of ruined jerky by her feet, then dragged his gaze away and set his jaw.

Huh. She watched his fists clench against his stomach. He was hungry. So maybe he wasn't being snobbish about the jerky. Maybe he was just too stubborn to admit that he needed something to eat.

She shifted her weight, and her entire bruised right side protested against the motion. With a pained gasp, she dropped to the ground.

"Waterbender?" Zuko bolted up.

Katara sat clutching her sore leg and glared at him. "Waterbender? Seriously?"

He ignored that and came a little closer, then stopped a few paces away. "Are—uh—are you hurt?"

She grimaced and pulled up the hem of her pants a bit. The bruises on her ankle were impressive. She didn't want to know how the rest looked, especially considering how much worse the ones on her hip and her shoulder felt.

"I think it's safe to say yes." Great. She had really been hoping that she could get away without healing them, without expending the precious energy to mend a few bumps. She summoned fresh rainwater in through the door and held the glowing bulge of water against her shoulder until the ache subsided.

Zuko's eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

"Healing myself." She frowned in concentration as she worked her way down her arm, clearing the bruises one after another. Just as she'd feared, she could feel the effort draining her energy. Less sore or not, she'd have a much harder time fighting in this state if he decided to attack her.

"Can you do that?"

She waved her now-healed hand through the air. "What does it look like?" Starting on her ankle, she snuck a look up at Zuko. Waterbender. Was that really how he thought of her? "Can't you remember names?"

He flushed. "I—yes, I can remember names. But I was taught manners, and it's rude to speak on familiar terms without permission."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. What's my name, then?"

"You're—" he scratched the back of his neck. "You're Katara. I think."

She snuck another glance at him. He was crimson clear back to his ears, and he wouldn't look directly at her.

"Lucky guess," she said, then pulled the excess water away from her leg and tossed it back out the door. Patches of her back still ached almost worse than her shoulder had, but she couldn't reach that far back, and all the other bruises had stopped hurting. Whether they were healed enough to not be visible, she couldn't tell, and she wasn't about to check, not with Zuko standing there. Besides, she was tired now. Tired and hungry. She looked down at the soggy jerky again. It didn't look any more appetizing than it had before.

"Do you want me to use your name?" Zuko asked.

She considered. It sounded strange on his lips. It felt strange to hear him call her by her name. They weren't close, and they weren't going to be. Still— "It's better than waterbender." She peered up at him. "Do you want me to use your name?"

He started. "I—I don't know." He shifted, looking down at his feet. "I can't really use my name here. I was calling myself 'Lee', but then the kid I helped was named Lee too, and—" he shrugged helplessly. "I didn't know what to call myself, so I didn't."

A surprised laugh escaped her. "You didn't come up with a new name?"

Zuko shook his head. "I'm not very good at lying."

That seemed—not entirely untrue, actually. He'd done plenty of terrible things, and Katara wouldn't trick herself into believing that he'd never lied to her, but lying was the least of her concerns when it came to Zuko.

"Then I guess I'll just call you Zuko when no one else is around. Deal?"

He nodded, and Katara gave just a hint of a smile before she looked down again. She heaved a sigh and poked at the jerky. "Any ideas on how to make wet jerky less gross? I doubt you want to eat it like this either."

Zuko froze, and his mouth opened and closed. "Me? Uh—what about me?"

Katara tilted her head a bit to the side. "You're hungry too, aren't you?"

"I—"

"Well, all of my food is going to go bad. I really don't see any reason why I should let that happen when there's enough here for both of us."

Zuko stared for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

She paused only a second before she nodded. It felt right, somehow. Gran-Gran had always taught her not to waste food and to always feed hungry strangers, and Katara had always done her best to stick to that rule. Zuko wasn't exactly a stranger, and he was hardly a friend, but he was hungry. And if he didn't eat with her, the food would be wasted.

Something told her that Gran-Gran might object to that argument, but Katara pushed the thought aside. They were in the Earth Kingdom, so far from any of Zuko's allies that there was nothing he could really do. He couldn't even use his own name safely, and if he was smart, he had to know that firebending out here would be a death sentence. If anything, he was in more danger than she was. And if less-hungry Zuko was also a bit less moody, the risks of sharing food with him seemed more than worthwhile.

"If you can figure out a way to get rid of the sogginess, I'll even let you pick your share. I can't get any more water out of it with my bending."

He took a small step closer and squinted at the mound of jerky.

Katara pushed it closer so he could see without closing the space between them too much.

Zuko scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe if we cooked it?" he offered doubtfully. "As long as no one's around, I could start a fire—"

"The barn looks a little too flammable for that." Even with rainwater seeping in through some of the cracks in the walls, the wood was old and dry as tinder. The hay was dry too. If a spark caught any of it, the storm would extinguish the blaze, but not before the barn collapsed in on them.

"Right. Uh—" He looked around the barn, then drew a slow breath. "Maybe if I just—" He cupped his hands together and a small flame appeared, hovering just over his palms.

For a while, Katara just stared at the fire. She'd never seen firebending quite like this before, quiet and contained, more warm than dangerous. It was odd. In a way, she almost liked it.

She finally dragged her eyes away and met Zuko's gaze, the angles of his face sharpened by the firelight. "Can you hold that for very long?"

He shrugged. "Probably. I've never had to hold a flame for more than a few minutes, but I'm sure I can. It's like meditating."

⁂

It was unlike anything Zuko had ever attempted before. He could hold a flame in his hands, he could use his bending to heat a pot or to boil water, but he'd never tried to hold a cooking fire steady without fuel, maintaining the perfect amount of heat so as not to burn the food or to cook it too slowly. It wasn't easy, and a part of him wished that he'd paid more attention to how Uncle warmed water for tea. The precision, the concentration, the patience it took tested his limits.

But he sat crossed-legged on the ground across from Katara, holding the fire in his hands while she threaded the bits of jerky onto a stick, then roasted them over the flames until they were hot and crackling. His mouth began watering the moment the scent reached him, but he tried not to pay attention to that. Keeping his breathing steady, he stared at his own flames, channeling just enough energy into them to keep the heat even.

He lost track of time, but finally, finally, Katara touched his wrist.

"That's enough. They're all finished."

Zuko exhaled, the flames dissipating, and he leaned back on his hands. He felt as though he'd just finished a fight or a particularly demanding training session. Though he hadn't used his firebending in days and the pent-up energy had been desperate to claw its way out, sustaining the cooking fire drained him more than he'd expected. If his stomach weren't cramping, desperate for food, he'd crawl back into his pile of hay to sleep.

Katara slid the bits of re-cooked jerky into a little mound on their wrapping, then poked them into two separate steaming piles with her makeshift roasting spit.

"Pick your half."

Zuko straightened and blinked, disbelieving, at the mounds of food. They were almost exactly the same. He'd expected her to eat her fill, then leave whatever she didn't want for him, not—this.

"I thought—" He paused and shook his head. "I thought you were going to do that."

"That's not the fair way to share food," Katara answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The person who divides it up always gets last pick. My Gran-Gran taught me that."

It made sense, in an odd sort of way. In Zuko's experience, people were never that dedicated to fairness—or at all—but in a better world, a nicer world, it would make sense.

Tentatively, he pointed to the mound on the left, and Katara pushed it his way without argument.

He hesitated over the food for a few seconds—he knew better than to accept food, or help of any kind, for that matter, from an enemy—but then his hunger won out against the hesitation. The jerky was tough, and it tasted of salt and smoke, unusual to his tastes, but not entirely unpleasant. Most importantly, it was filling. A few bites took the edge off of his hunger, and by the time he was done, Zuko was really, properly full for the first time in days.

Katara finished her last bite a little behind him and washed it down with a long drink from her waterskin.

"Thank you," Zuko blurted out. "You didn't have to share the rest of your food with me, and I just—thanks."

She shrugged and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "Technically, you didn't have to let me stay out of the rain here either. I think we're even."

He looked down. It was true, he supposed. He could have tossed her back out into the storm. He had permission to be here, and he could have easily used that to push her out. But in a storm like this—no, he wouldn't do that. Uncle would be ashamed if he had. Of course, Uncle would be ashamed of him for plenty of other things, but Zuko had to stop somewhere. There had to be a line he wouldn't cross, and this seemed as good a point as any.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked. "With all of your food gone—"

Katara let out a slow sigh and turned to stare out the door and into the rain. "My friends aren't too far away. When the rain stops, I'll find them. They have plenty of food." She stopped, studying him. "And you?"

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. I guess—I'll probably keep going east. It's supposed to be a lot nicer once you get past the desert. Maybe then it'll be easier to find food." He stared down at the darkened patch where the cooked jerky had left a stain on the skin wrapping. Part of him wished that he'd been able to save some of it for later. With no money, no way of finding his own food, spirits only knew when he'd have another meal. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd be able to eat one more time before he left the farm behind, but after that—

She watched him, her blue gaze unusually soft. "Maybe you'll find your uncle."

He met her eyes for a second. He hoped so. He hoped that Uncle would want him back. Travelling alone was nothing like he'd expected, and even with all the annoyance and frustration that came with the old man's quirks and the extra effort it took to keep the two of them fed, he'd rather be with Uncle again.

"Maybe." He looked away again and cleared his throat. "Uh, since the rain isn't stopping, I think I'm going to try to sleep." His hands clenched on the hem of his tunic, then slowly loosened again. He ought to know better than to let his guard down. He ought to know better than to sleep while the enemy was so near, but looking at Katara now, he didn't see an enemy anymore. Not quite. Not the way he used to. Katara was tired and disheveled, and she could probably still fight him—she could probably still win—but she'd shared her food with him. If she meant him any harm, she wouldn't have bothered. And frankly, Zuko didn't have the energy to keep watch anyway.

"The hay is more comfortable than the ground, so—if you want, you can have that spot."

Katara tilted her head, then looked around him toward the mound of hay. "No, that's fine. I have my sleeping bag."

Zuko nodded and pushed himself awkwardly to his feet. "Okay."

He could feel Katara's eyes on his back as he retreated to the haystack again and settled into the scratchy makeshift bed. But he couldn't sleep and found himself watching her as she spread out her sleeping bag, made one last attempt to pull out the moisture, and started to climb inside. She winced when her back touched the ground, then rolled onto her side, and met Zuko's eyes.

His face warmed. No point in pretending he hadn't been watching her. "Are you okay?" he rasped.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Fine. I guess I still have some bruises left that I couldn't reach." She started to roll onto her back again, winced, and turned her face back toward Zuko again.

"Heat might help," he offered before he had a chance to think.

Katara blinked at him. "It might," she replied slowly. "Are you just saying that, or—"

His face was flaming. "Depends."

"On what?"

He picked at a particularly pointy bit of hay. "If you trust me enough to let me try to help."

For a long moment, Katara stared at him. She shouldn't trust him. It wouldn't make sense for her to take a chance like that. But finally, after an uncomfortably long silence, she sat up and wiggled her way out of her sleeping bag. Draping it over her arm, she crossed over to the haystack and hovered a few steps away.

"Maybe just this once."

[solangelover]

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

Solangelo Week 2020 - god swap / body swap @solangeloweek 

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

A/N: (Ignore how late this fic is) I recently realized that I love the tag “crack treated seriously” and then I was like, wait is that what I write?? Oh well XD

“Ugh, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Oh gods, what are we going to do??”

Will and Nico were behind the Hades cabin, but not for the reasons they’d like to be.

Currently, Will was looking at Nico and Nico was looking at Will, but they were also staring at themselves. Because they were in each other’s bodies. Because why not.

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose (Will’s nose?), sighing, “This is ridiculous.”

Will was a little more panicky than his boyfriend. “Oh my gods, how and why is this happening? We can’t be stuck like this! Can we be stuck like this? Oh my gods, what if we’re stuck like this???”

The boys had woken up from a nap together (a literal time of sleeping together) in the early afternoon, only to find that they weren’t quite themselves. They also found a note on the nightstand that said, “Don’t tell, or it’ll take longer to wear off!” signed with a simple red heart. The situation was pretty straight forward, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle.

“Solace, calm down. We’ll be fine. This is either a prank from the Aphrodite kids or Aphrodite herself. I don’t think any children of Aphrodite have ever had precise enough control of their power to extend the time of their curses, though I’ve also never heard of any body or mind swaps from them either…” Nico tapped his chin in thought.

“So you think this is directly from a goddess??” Will flailed his arms for emphasis. He had not been still since they woke up switched.

Nico held up his hands placatingly. “Will, I said to calm—”

“When has that ever made anyone calm??”

Nico’s eyes flicked to the ground behind Will, noticing some movement. He immediately recognized the shadows reacting to Will’s panic, swirling around his feet and slowly pulling upward like a barrier. Huh, so that’s what that looks like, Nico thought, finally seeing what other people saw. He could admit that it was slightly terrifying.

“Okay! Okay, Will, just, breathe with me. Remember, like you taught me?” Nico drew in a deep breath, emphasizing the movement with his hands. He exhaled loudly. “In 4, hold 3, out, like, 5. Right?”

“What, no, do you even listen to me? It’s in 4, hold 7, out 8. Like this,” and Will proceeded to do several slow breaths. Nico was grinning even as he copied Will. He also realized how different he looks when he’s not frowning while doing the exercise. He should probably pay attention to his facial expressions more.

After a few more breaths, Nico ventured, “Better?”

Will blinked a few times before letting out a chuckle. “Oh, I see what you did there. Sneaky Death Boy.” He smiled at Nico, which, again, was a very different sight to Nico. Not that he didn’t smile often, but for some reason, Will made his smile look brighter.

Instead of saying this, Nico replied with, “Well, actually I think you’re the Death Boy now, Sunshine.”

Will face palmed while Nico laughed. It was weird to hear Will’s laugh ringing in his own ears, knowing that Nico himself was the one laughing. Switching bodies was a real out-of-body experience.

Nico jolted and then groaned to himself. “Will, please tell me you don’t think in puns.”

Will immediately straightened up and asked desperately, “What was the pun? Please tell me, I haven’t thought of a single one this whole time.”

Nico sighed. “Just how this is a real out-of-body experience.”

Will burst into laughter immediately. “Oh, that’s a good one!” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Yeah, puns just pop into my head. I don’t know if it’s a gift from Apollo or what, but I love it and already miss it.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I hate you. Or me. I hate this body and brain. It’s stupid.”

Will hummed. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Will, I swear to the gods, stop taking flirting tips from Cecil and Lou Ellen. They make no sense coming from you. I didn’t even see you yesterday!” Nico wrinkled his nose in disgust as he watched his boyfriend waggle his eyebrows suggestively with his body. “Also, don’t make me say or do dumb things. It’s wrong.”

Will’s face lit up, which really made Nico look his age instead of like the 80-something year old he truly was, and he proceeded spin around and flail his arms. Nico knew this to be Will’s version of dancing.

Will abruptly stopped and pouted at Nico. “No fair. I can literally feel your body being graceful even when I’m controlling the movements. I can’t make you dance badly if I tried!”

“Don’t test that theory,” Nico chuckled despite himself, glad to see that Will had calmed down and was actually having fun in this scenario. He’d hate to ruin the good mood, but, “How long do you think this will last?”

Will sobered up quickly, folding his arms in thought. “Hard to say. Like you said, we’ve never heard of this kind of prank being pulled before. So, if it really is from the goddess of love… then we just have to not make her mad so she lifts the curse, or at least, doesn’t extend it.” His eyebrows furrowed quizzically. “Why did she curse us in the first place?”

“I bet she was just bored,” Nico shrugged. “Anyway, her note also said that we can’t tell anyone, otherwise we’ll be stuck like this for longer. So…” he trailed off, unsure of where that left them.

“Basically, we have to be each other for however long, without telling anyone directly what’s happening.” Will swallowed.

The boys let that sink in. And then simultaneously groaned.

“I was supposed to teach a sword lesson in a few hours,” Nico grumbled, imagining just how much could go wrong with Will handling a sword. Granted, he’d be in Nico’s body, but still.

“And I have a shift at the infirmary through dinnertime,” Will ran a hand through his hair, distracted momentarily by the silky black locks he combed through instead of his normal wiry dirty blonde hair. At least Nico had helped in the infirmary enough to know what Will did and where things were. But he did not have the medical training and experience Will had. What might happen if a camper got seriously hurt?

They sat in silence for a bit as they thought this over. Could they pull it off?

“…”

“…”

“This is bad.”

“This is doable,” they said at the same time. Nico looked up in concern, thinking his boyfriend was overestimating his sword skills, while Will looked mildly offended as he thought Nico was doubting his own knowledge of the infirmary.

“Neeks! You can totally take a shift at the infirmary. My siblings will be there for anything major,” Will stated with his hands on his hips. He had to look up slightly since Nico was a few inches shorter than Will, which was definitely a new experience for Will.

“Okay,” Nico looked doubtful, but continued. “But I don’t think you can run a sword lesson. No offense,” he tacked on with an apologetic smile.

Will hummed in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably true. We can cancel it, though, right? Or ask someone to take it over?”

“Ugh, I don’t know. I don’t want to cause suspicion or upset the love goddess for any reason,” Nico frowned. “… I think we might just have to… do this.”

They stared at each other for a moment more.

“Oh gods,” Will buried his face in his hands.

“Merda,” Nico glared at the sky, the bright blue like Aphrodite herself was mocking him. She probably was.

---

*At the arena*

“Okay, guys! Um, today we’re going to shake things up and have some fuuuuun!” Nico was absolutely going to kill Will for making him sound like an idiot, but he didn’t know what else to do. Six kids between eight to ten years old gazed up at him with varying levels of excitement and confusion. Will distractedly realized how much he’s sweating (though more from nerves than physical exhaustion) and understood why Nico did his usual training shirtless. But Will was highly unsure about being so close to his shirtless boyfriend’s body, regardless of who’s brain was controlling his movements. So, the shirt stayed.

“What are we doing that’s so great, Mr. Nico?” An eight-year-old Ares girl looked a little too excited about sword-fighting class for Will’s comfort.

“Um,” Will rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he spoke. He was reaching for any way to circumvent dangerously pointy weapons when an idea struck him. “Oh!” He smiled at the kids, who looked quite off-put by the expression. “Today, we’re going to discuss basic medical knowledge to know when you’re on the battlefield!”

The groans he received put a damper on what he thought was a very practical lesson that he’s immensely proud he came up with.

“But that’s what infirmary class is for! Mr. Will taught us!”

“Yeah, I wanna fight with swords!”

“Ah ah ah!” Will interrupted their grumblings before it got out of hand. “Mr. Will teaches what the medics do once you can leave a fight and be treated properly. This will be quick fixes while you’re still fighting. It’s important that you can quickly assess wounds and determine your next course of ac—”

“Ugh, you sound like Mr. Will!”

“Yeah, you never talk this much, Mr. Nico.”

“Maybe he’s not the real Mr. Nico.”

These kids were getting dangerously close to the truth, and Will almost wanted to tell them so they’d stop complaining. But no, couldn’t do that. Hm, how do I make them interested while sounding like Nico…

Will lit up when he finally realized what to do. Really, he should be better at this, he has so many little siblings. But he and Nico didn’t exactly behave in the same way. Nico didn’t like coddling kids in any way, especially not in his class. That’s probably why they loved him so much.

“Okay, okay,” Will said loudly, cutting off the students’ whispering as he sat down in front of them. “How about I tell you a story?”

Immediately, all the kids cheered and sat down as close to him as they could, stars shining in their eyes.

“Haven’t you fought werewolves?”

“Do you see ghosts?”

“You fought with Percy Jackson! Tell us about him!”

“What kind of powers do you have?”

“Oh, tell us about defeating the Titans!”

“Are zombies, like, super gross?”

Will laughed at how excited they all were. He almost forgot that Nico was a famous war hero instead of his dorky boyfriend. “Okay, listen closely. You may learn a thing or two from my heroic tales!” He puffed out his chest dramatically, drawing adorable giggles from everyone. He then launched into a story about one of Nico’s many battles, throwing in how he used his medical knowledge to patch himself up and continue fighting. Needless to say, everyone paid attention when Will brought out some bandage rolls for them to practice with.

---

*At the infirmary*

“Will, what in Hades are you doing?”

Nico jumped at Kayla’s voice sounding behind him. His head knocked into a shelf, spilling supplies on the floor. He was not hiding in the supply closet.

“Um,” he began eloquently. “Inventorying?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Bro, you did that yesterday. And we don’t have that many people coming in here, so I highly doubt we’re low on anything.” So maybe she was just exasperated with her brother and didn’t suspect anything weird was going on.

“Well, you know me,” was a phrase that Will never said and yet it’s all Nico could think of. He shrugged apologetically at Will’s sister.

“Whatever, come on, Cecil just came in with some burns on his arms. I’d say it was from the lava wall, but he probably exploded something in his face.” She led the way out of the supply closet and toward the front of the infirmary. Where Cecil, Will’s best friend, was waiting and would surely notice something off about Will.

“What are you going to do?” he asked Kayla.

She eyed him with some suspicion. “… What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, uh,” Nico was confused. “Um, nothing? Whatever you normally do?”

“… Huh.” (Will had definitely given her a task to do that morning.)

She was about to respond when Nico blurted out, “You can end early, if you want.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. That was not a common thing for the head medic to say, for sure.

“I mean,” Nico floundered for any sort of reasoning. “You’ve been working hard recently, and I just thought you might like a little extra free time.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And you’re taking the cabin to dinner tonight since I’m working, which is hard enough.”

At that, Kayla laughed and seemed to relax. “Yeah, no kidding. You want me gone? I’m gone, no problem.” Nico sighed with relief. Then he realized that if anyone came in majorly injured, he’d have no help. He thought about taking it back, but she was already out the door.

With another sigh, Nico headed toward the bed Cecil was currently lounging on, not concerned in the slightest about the mild burns on his forearms. He picked up his head as Nico approached.

“‘Sup, Will!”

Nico shook his head, feeling Will’s blond wisps tickle his face as he did so, and gave his friend an exasperated smile like he’d seen Will do a million times over. “Here again, Markowitz?”

Cecil threw his head back and laughed. “Markowitz? I thought Mr. Doom-and-Gloom was the only one who used last names like the old-timer he is?”

“Uh,” Nico fumbled. “Yeah, I was just… testing it out?”

“Okay, Doctor Solace,” Cecil rolled his eyes. “I just need the magic bandages and I’ll be on my way.”

Right, healing magic. Something Will should be able to do. But Nico doesn’t know if he can make his powers work properly. “Right, I’ll just… get some bandages.”

Cecil didn’t seem to notice or care about the healer’s apparent hesitation, simply leaning back on his bed. “Sure thing. So, how’s life, my friend?”

Nico scoffed, “Don’t we see each other every day? Multiple times?”

“That doesn’t mean I know how you’re doing. Is it so wrong I want to hear from my best friend, my buddy, my pal?” Cecil was so dramatic sometimes.

Nico just hummed in response as he came back with some bandages and burn ointment. Thank the gods he had helped out in the infirmary many times in the past. Will taught him the basics at least, and he’d taken care of minor injuries like this before. Hopefully, that was enough, and Cecil didn’t ask for any actual hymns.

“Soooo,” Cecil drawled. “How’s the boyfriend?”

Nico choked on air.

“Oh, come on, Will,” Cecil rolled his eyes. “You should be used to me asking by now. You know I’m nosy!”

“I, um,” Nico didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Cecil continued. “Remember when you used to talk my ear off about Nico? I can’t say I miss those days, but it’s so much harder when I have to pry for information.”

Nico was suddenly much more interested in this conversation. “I didn’t used to talk that much… did I?”

“Oh,” Cecil sat up straight, jostling his arm that Nico was trying to wrap. “Don’t even give me that. You know you did. All I heard was Nico’s so cute and he’s so strong and did you know he used to play Mythomagic? That’s adorable!” He mocked Will’s voice and practically swooned at the end. Even while blushing furiously, Nico had to hold in his laughter. He’s not surprised that Will said those things, but hearing Cecil complain about it made it even funnier.

“I did not,” Nico said indignantly like he’d heard Will do so many times. He wasn’t a good liar.

“Yes, you totally did! Must I recount the many laments of Nico’s beauty and grace?”

Nico really hoped his smile didn’t come off as mischievously as he felt. “Oh, please do.”

---

Will came by the infirmary with a plate of food toward the end of Nico’s shift. The place was empty except for Nico sweeping the floor. Will had to pause in the doorway for a second, his mind still confused when he saw himself doing the sweeping. Is that what I usually look like? But, no, probably not. Because Nico was scowling hard at the floor as he worked, which was an odd look to see on the son of Apollo’s face.

“Knock knock!” Will called out, getting his boyfriend’s attention. Nico blinked a few times at Will, probably jarred in the same way Will was upon seeing himself.

Then he scowled again. “Don’t say that in my body—I look dumb.”

Will gasped in mock offense, then twirled around with his plate of food. “I think I make you look good, Sunshine.” He winked at Nico for good measure, who in turn groaned and dropped the broom where he was.

The boys settled down at Will’s desk, Nico taking Will’s usual seat in case anyone came in. They didn’t want any questions, no matter how innocent.

“So, do you think this body swap business is almost done?” Will asked as they started eating.

Nico could only shrug. “Hopefully. A day is the average length of a curse around here, but who knows?”

Will hummed in agreement. After a few more moments of silence, he asked, “How was the infirmary today? Everything went okay?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah, only Cecil came in with some burns.” He then smirked at his boyfriend. “He also told me some stories.”

“Oh no,” Will muttered as he buried his face in his hands. “About what?” He was afraid to know the answer.

“You know, just about you… and how you used to gush over me all the time.” Nico was fully grinning now. Will didn’t know he could look so evil.

“Ugh, whyyyyy,” he groaned loudly.

“I have so much blackmail material now.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah.”

They lapsed into another brief silence before Nico piped up again. “So, did you kill anyone in my class?”

“Psh, I’ll have you know, I am an excellent teacher,” Will puffed up.

Nico raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, but your sword skills aren’t exactly up to par.”

“Well then it’s a good thing we didn’t use swords today.” Nico’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but before he could say anything, Will leapt out of his chair and struck what he probably thought was a heroic pose. “I regaled your students with tales of your bravery,” he trumpeted in a deep, dramatic voice. “While also interjecting some medical advice and emphasizing the importance of field medical knowledge.”

A beat of silence, and then, “Please don’t tell me you said it like that.”

“Just like that,” Will replied, a cheeky grin on his face.

Now it was Nico’s turn to groan, cheeks flooding red with embarrassment. “Will! I have a reputation!”

“Which I have elevated, you’re welcome.” He bowed as he returned to his seat.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

[doc-pickles]

never thought i’d see it break

okay listen.... i am sorry for this fic, mainly because i know some of y’all are going to drag me into the ground for this. but i wanted to write some angst and while it might not be super angsty in theory it definitely counts because our favorite idiots don’t end up together. like at all. so once again, sorry for any mental anguish i may cause, i promise i’ll make it up to you guys tomorrow.  

also i cried writing this so good luck

Halloween 2020

She really didn’t think that the day would hit her so hard. The days leading up to it had been uneventful, the decorations lining the halls at work not fazing her in the slightest as she went about her daily routine. But when Jo woke up on Halloween morning, it felt like the past year of her life was slapping her in the face. The cold harsh reality of her husband up and leaving her sat deep in the pit of her stomach, her mind reeling as she laid in bed. 

“Are you getting up today,” Levi looked at Jo from his position on the couch, eyeing her warily. “Because I had plans but I can cancel them.” “Get out, go away,” Jo’s monotone voice was barely above a mumble as she stared menacingly at Levi. “Let me wallow once again in the realization that my marriage has failed and I will probably die alone. Or with you. Can’t tell which of those is worse.” 

Levi blew out a short breath, gathering his things and letting Jo know he was going to hang out with Nico for the day. Once the door to the loft was closed and locked, Jo reached beneath her bed and pulled out a large black box. Pulling the lid off, her breath caught in her throat as she took in the contents of the box.

Laying on top was a ratty tshirt, one that Jo had once religiously worn as she climbed into bed every night. The faded Iowa State logo stared up at her with a menacing aura, the memories that came with it too painful for Jo to relive. She set it aside and reached for the photo album below it, the dusty jacket brandishing a name she’d wished she could forget but rang through her mind everyday. 

The Karev’s. 

She knew it was torture, opening the book up to look at photos of a day that was once happy and beautiful but now filled her eyes with tears, but she did it anyways. The shades of blue and yellow that graced the pages, the smiling faces of their friends, of him, were like a glowering unwanted sign that her life had taken a detour that she had neither wanted nor anticipated. It didn’t help that there was a Polaroid tucked into the back page, her and Alex grinning at the camera with fake blood and vampire fangs adorning their faces. 

Hastily shoving the photobook and shirt back into the box, Jo ignored the numerous photos, ticket stubs, letters, and other memorabilia from the years she’d spent with Alex and shoved the box back under the bed. Why she’d thought taking it out was a good idea she would never know, but the feeling that had been blossoming when she woke up was now taking over her entire chest in a painful display. 

How had her life been so different a year ago? Sure it wasn’t ever picture perfect, her and Alex had their differences but they’d always worked through whatever was thrown at them together. His dad, DeLuca, Paul, him getting fired, her mom… every single problem they’d faced in their seven years together had been done exactly like that, together. Whether by choice or by reluctant agreement, the two were always there for one another, but apparently ex wives with two children she kept a secret for five years was where they drew the line. Where Alex drew the line.

Knowing she wouldn’t be doing the laundry that was piling up or scrubbing the sinks that needed some TLC, Jo settled back into bed, eyes watering as she scooted to the right side of the bed and clutched the now unused pillow that lay there. It didn’t smell like him any longer, but the comfort of holding the fabric to her chest still held. 

That’s where Meredith found her hours later, tear stains across her cheeks as she slept through the afternoon. A heavy sigh left the blonde as she settled onto the edge of the bed, one hand patting Jo’s shoulder affectionately as she woke. 

“Schmitt texted, he said you were wallowing in misery so I figured that was a cry for help,” Meredith let out a chuckle at Jo’s angry expression. “Come on, you can come take the kids trick or treating with me, it’ll be a good distraction.”

“I don’t want to move,” Jo mumbled into her pillow, eyes barely moving to meet Meredith’s. “I want to lay here until I sink so far into the mattress that no one can ever find me again.” “Jo, it’s been months. And I know it’s not easy, but you’ve been so strong through all of this, I’d hate to see one day ruin everything for you,” Jo sighed at Meredith’s words, knowing her friend was right. “If you get up now I will pour wine into a tumbler for you to drink while we walk around.” “Fine,” Jo rolled out of bed, glaring at Meredith as she did so. “But I’m only getting up for the wine.”

Halloween 2023

“You know I don’t normally interact with other humans on Halloween.”

Jo stood in the doorway of her apartment, a grin on her face as she looked at the man in front of her. His grin was threatening to overtake his face as he leaned down and kissed her sweetly, one arm wrapping around her waist, “I brought beer and scary movies, will you let me in now?”  

“Okay fine, only because of the beer and not because I like you so much,” Jo rolled her eyes and opened the door fully, letting Jack into the apartment and locking the door behind him. “Please tell me you have Scream in your collection, otherwise I don’t think this is gonna work out.” 

Jack pulled out the aforementioned DVD case, eliciting a cheer from Jo as he set up the movie. She really didn’t think she’d been this happy in a long time, the feeling of happiness bubbling in her chest as she grabbed popcorn an altogether new experience. 

When she’d picked up a Safe Haven baby from Station 19 four months ago, she hadn’t expected to have an hour and a half long conversation with Jack Gibson, who’d been sitting with the little girl before she’d arrived. Their conversation flowed so easily that the two had picked it up over dinner that night and the rest was history. 

She hadn’t seen anyone since Alex left, she hadn’t wanted to waste time on something that was going to leave her heartbroken again because she just couldn’t do that. But the connection she felt with Jack was real and exciting and something Jo hadn’t realized she’d needed until she had it. It almost distracted her from the fact that today her and Alex should be celebrating four years of marriage together. Almost. 

“Are you dazing out again over there,” Jack’s voice was light and cheery, but Jo could see the concern etched on his face as soon as he took a good look at her. “Hey, what’s wrong? We can watch Poltergeist if that’s what you want.”

A heavy sigh left Jo as she realized that she’d have to tell someone else exactly why today was one of her least favorite days of the year. Of course Jack knew that she was divorced, he’d met Alex once or twice when bringing in patients but he didn’t know everything. It wasn’t something that you should burden your partner with four months into your relationship, the ways that you failed in your previous marriage. 

“I was married. Obviously. And we got married on Halloween, so that’s why I don’t like being around people today, because it still sucks,” Jo’s gaze was concentrated on her fingers as she spoke, not wanting to see the pitiful expression on Jack’s face as she relayed her tragic backstory. “And I didn’t really wanna bring it up because you… you are the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time and I don’t want to ruin that by talking about my failed marriage.”

Eyes finally flitting up to look at Jack, Jo was startled to find empathy instead of pity in his expression. She knew he’d had a rough upbringing like her, that neither of them had been handed anything they had in life, but the unexpected compassion and Jack showed her always took her by surprise. 

“You are a badass. And for the record, you’re the best thing that’s happened for me in quite awhile too,” Jack wrapped his arms around Jo and brought her into his chest, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Would it make you feel better if we played a drinking game and got ridiculously drunk?”

“You know me so well,” Jo giggled as her eyes met Jack’s, his green eyes sparkling with that same sense of compassion that he always wore so brightly when he was around her. 

The two settled in for a night filled with laughter, shots, and scary movies as Jack cracked jokes all night, making sure that the smile on her face never left.  For once Jo didn’t feel like the day consisted of her replaying all of her past mistakes. Instead, for the first time in a long time, Halloween felt like a new beginning. 

Halloween 2025

“Oh man it is too early to be awake,” Jo’s groans echoed through the empty fire station, her feet leading her towards the soft voices she heard. “Hello? Anyone here?”

“We’re in here,” a smirk played onto Jo’s face at the sound of her boyfriend's voice, not expecting to see him today. “Hey there.”

“Hey yourself, who do you have there,” Jo walked further into the room that Jack sat in, a tiny bundle settled in his arms. She peeked over his shoulder, taking in the dark curls and soft features of the baby he held. “Well aren’t you a cutie. How long have you had her?”

“Just an hour or so, she’s been perfectly calm,” Jack looked up to Jo, gladly accepting the kiss she placed on his lips. “Usually by now they’re screaming at me, but this one hasn’t wanted anything except snuggles.”

“Maybe you’ve just got the magic touch with this one,” Jo settled into the chair across from Jack, giggling at the faces he pulled as he tried to entertain the baby. “She seems content there.”

“It sucks, she’s got no family and she doesn’t even get to celebrate her first holiday,” Jack’s finger ran across the baby’s cheek, eliciting a quiet coo from the little girl. “Oh I know sweetheart, maybe if you’re lucky the nice doctors will sneak you a lollipop.”

Jo’s heart leapt at the sight before her, fingers twisting the silver chain across her neck. She’d been to the fire station to pick up babies more than she’d like to say in the past few years, but seeing the tiny infants cradled in Jack’s arms always made her heart burst. 

“How do you feel about stealing a baby,” Jack’s eyes widened as they met Jo’s, a grin taking over her face at the shocked look he wore. “Cmon, trust me on this one. It’ll just be for a little bit, plus you’re off now right?”

“Yes, but now I’m concerned about what my girlfriend has planned for this poor innocent baby.” +

“I give you about ten minutes of this before someone calls you out and we get arrested,” Jack’s eyes nervously flitted around the bustling Peds ward. “I will give you props though, she looks pretty cute.” Jo turned from the sight of children running down the hospital halls to the infant in Jack’s arms. They’d stopped at Target before coming to the hospital, grabbing a pumpkin costume to put on the newborn before they took her around the Peds ward to trick or treat. Jack and Jo both knew that they were being a little silly, but they wanted the little girl to have at least one day where she felt loved. 

“Of course she does, she’s the cutest little baby in the world. Aren’t you Hallie? Yes you are,” Jo grabbed the infant’s foot, looking up to Jack who was staring her down with an unamused expression. “What? She needed a name and I watched Parent Trap last night. Plus it’s kind of fitting, Hallie… Halloween… Oh you’re just a party pooper!”

“Jo! What’re you doing here,” Link sauntered up to Jo and Jack with a smile, sleeping baby strapped to his chest. “Woah who's baby is that? Did you hide a pregnancy from me for nine months?” 

Jo’s eyes widened as she stared her best friend down, lightly slapping his arm, “No you idiot, this is Hallie. She’s a Safe Haven baby, but we wanted to dress her up and let her have some fun before we turned her over.”

Links gaze floated from the baby still cuddled against Jack to Jo who was perfectly settled into his side. He held his hand out, a knowing smirk on his face, “Give me your phone, I’ll take a picture of you guys.”

Without hesitation, Jo handed the object over and both her and Jack wore bright smiles as Link snapped the picture. He handed the phone back, both adults leaning in to look at the photo in awe. 

“I give you about a week,” Link chuckled, both Jo and Jack too caught up in the infant with them to notice his words. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jo absentmindedly waved her friend off, grabbing Hallie from Jack’s arms and bringing her to her own chest. The little girl blinked up at Jo before settling contentedly against her, eyes closing in a matter of seconds. 

“You know, she seems pretty content with us,” Jo looked up from the baby to her boyfriend with wide eyes, not believing the words she was hearing. “What? She does, she’s barely cried since I got her this morning and looks so comfy snuggled up with you.” 

“You are pretty cute, I’m just gonna sneak you out and take you home,” Jo squeezed the hand of the infant, looking up at Jack who was staring at her with an awed look. “What? Do I have baby spit up on me?”

“Nothing, you just look good. You’re a natural,” Jack brought Jo back into his side, pressing a kiss to her head. “I love you.” “I love you too,” Jo laughed as the baby burped loudly before settling herself back against Jo. “And I think she likes you too.”

Halloween 2030

“Bailey, I just finished my charts and I am heading out,” Jo sighed as she set her arms on the nurses station, head leaning warily against one hand. “I’m off for the rest of the day, I’m just going to check on Mr. Olsen in the ER before I duck out. Pretty sure my kids are driving their dad nuts and the addition of sugar tonight won’t help with that.”

Bailey let a laugh out, dismissing Jo for the day and letting the younger woman know she wasn’t needed the next day. A sigh left her as she climbed into the elevator with her purse in tow, Jo finally feeling a small sense of relief. 

“You are not making my job easier, you’re much more troublesome than your brother,” Jo settled one hand onto her growing baby bump, a strong kick meeting her hand as she rolled her eyes. “Typical. You’re going to have your sister's attitude aren't you?”

The elevator dinged loudly, bringing Jo away from her conversation with her unborn child and into the real world. As she stepped off the elevator, her hands dug into her purse in search of her phone. She’d finally dug it out when she ran straight into whoever was walking in front of her. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was ju-,” the air in Jo’s lungs left suddenly, as if it had been sucked away by a vacuum as she met the eyes of the person she’d bumped into. “Oh my god. Alex.”

Alex Karev, ten years older than when she’d seen him last, was standing not even two feet in front of Jo. Her heart was hammering as she stared at her ex husband, his presence the last thing she’d expected, especially today of all days. 

“Hey Jo, good to see you,” hearing his voice almost brought tears to Jo’s eyes as she stared dumbly up at Alex. “I’m working on a case with Hayes for the week. You look good, happy… round.”

A small laugh escaped Jo then, her hand falling to her bump as she finally found her voice again, “Yeah, this one kinda popped out right away. Between that and my constant morning sickness, I couldn’t hide being pregnant for very long.”

“I’m glad, that you’re uh happy, that’s good to hear,” Jo watched Alex’s eyes flit to the wedding set on her left hand, then back up to her. 

“Mama!”

Both Alex and Jo turned toward the excited voice sounding down the hallway, a head full of black curls flying past Alex as the little girl they belonged to wrapped her arms around Jo’s legs. A second shorter head of messy brown hair crashed into Jo’s legs, laughter escaping her as she tried to wrangle both children, “Okay you two, mom can’t breathe!”

“Sorry, they escaped as soon as I walked through the door,” Jack appeared next to Jo a second later, pressing a kiss to her cheek before turning to Alex. If he was shocked to see the man, he hid it well as he extended his hand towards him. “Hey, Jack Gibson. Alex, right?” “Yeah, nice to meet you,” Alex shook Jack’s hand with a small smile, Jo’s heart skipping a beat at the unusual sight. “You guys have some good looking kids.”

Jo laughed, her face lighting up as she looked at the two children now preoccupied with a game of tag, “I can’t take all the credit, Max is Jack’s clone and Hallie just kinda… fell into our laps. She’s got my attitude though, if that counts for anything.” “That counts for everything, you know she uses that to get whatever she wants,” Jack slung his arm around Jo’s shoulder as she leaned into him, her hand coming back to her burgeoning stomach. Jo could tell Alex was watching them, but she didn’t have the words to verbalize how odd it made her feel.

“I gotta go, but it was nice to meet you Jack,” Alex waved his hand at the other man, before turning to Jo. Their eyes met for a second and it almost felt like that day eleven years ago standing in a courtroom in the most ridiculous costumes. Jo’s throat tightened as she offered a watery smile to Alex, his own eyes glassy as they finally broke away from hers. “It was good to see you again Jo, it really is good to see you happy.”

Jo could only nod, lifting her hand in a wave to Alex, “You too Alex. Have a good stay.” Alex turned and left then, Jo’s eyes watching him until he turned a corner and was out of her view. The sight tugged at her heart strangely, her mind bringing up the image of him walking into an airport so many years ago and never turning around. She doesn’t realize there’s tears floating down her face until Jack nudges her lightly. 

“You okay?” “Yeah,” Jo swipes at the tears that have pooled on her cheeks, turning to Jack with a smile. She leans up to press a kiss to his lips, holding on a bit longer than she normally would in public before pulling and meeting his green eyes with her brown. “I’m perfectly fine, just another Halloween. You guys ready to go?” Jack pauses for a moment, holding Jo’s stare before turning back to their kids who are still running around the hallway, “Yup, we just came to pick you up before we headed to Meredith’s. Hallie! Max! Let’s move it!” The two kids followed Jack and Jo out of the hospital, a string of laughter following the family as they made their way into the chilly Seattle air. Jo’s eyes lingered on the trauma bay as they left, remembering a day so long ago it felt like another lifetime when she’d first met the man she’d been married to. A swift kick to her ribs pulled her out of her thoughts, her fingers squeezing Jack’s as they made their way through the parking lot. 

Just another Halloween….

[courtorderedcake]

Majestically Too Far Beyond, CSSNS 2020

Emma Swan is a Witch who has made (And apparently makes) bad decisions. Helping a desperate Witch out of a weird situation doesn't seem like a bad decision, even against her, runes, a tarot reading and her friend's Snow druid intuition - until it is and the consequences are very real.

Killian is a Demon with a long history of persecution against him, and his denizens are not much better off. His Angelic brother is on a mission to rehab Demonic image to prevent violence on the streets of Hyperion Heights, as some sort of Holy mission deeply rooted in millenia of guilt. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. After a disastrous meeting, he attempts to drown his frustration with a trip to the bottom of a bottle, but ends up falling in bed with a mysterious Witch in her tower home. Soon he's missing a hand, has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, and a mirror shows that some strange, different, Witch is pregnant with his child.

RATED M for Mature Themes. Written for @cssns​ 2020 Beta’d by The best team ever ( @jarienn972​  @ultraluckycatnd​  @donteattheappleshook​) and Art by @kmomof4​

Read on Ao3 HERE. 1 | 2 

Chapter 2 - House Evil Spirits to appease of,

Part of Emma was coming to terms with the new fact that she was pregnant, then just as rapidly she reverts back through the cycle of grief, sometimes not in order. The doctor had warned her this would happen when she announced that they would be keeping her for overnight observation as a safety precaution, dropping the news that her new pregnancy hormones would also make her feel even more upside down then she had ever imagined. It was one thing to be told, but feeling it was another thing entirely.

She had gone from laughing at the breakfast menu she was handed to crying over grilled cheese not being an option, to enraged at being brought bright blue jello with her 'breakfast sandwich' made of bologna and eggs. They could not have known the intense reaction the jiggling neon goo would have given her, her magic flaring and sputtering in turn as she launched it away from her. But then again, she doubted any of the staff had spent time in a No-Magic cell. Nausea bloomed as soon as rage subsided, the food on the plastic tray too similar to what had been served to her over those long years locked away. 

Now irritation was playing through multiple emotions, a new nurse violently poking her with a needle, and running some sort of IV. 

"You're giving me what -" 

"A hormone treatment, and a magic suppressant." 

"But I need my magic -" 

"Would you prefer to shrivel up and die? You'll still have enough to do daily witch activities or whatever. This helps keep the extra at bay, and your baby healthy. It needs your magic." 

"Oh. Great." She laughed, half crazed at the news and the nurse's treatment. "Just great."

"Mess with their kind, and well." She shrugged, eyeing Emma's body. "An Angel wouldn't do that to you. A Vampire couldn't, and the rest of 'em could, but you wouldn't have to suffer through all this nasty magic aftermath. You're just early enough for a termination though, thank Merlin."

"I didn't do this to myself on purpose . This was never supposed to happen, at least not like this…" 

"Sure." The nurse rolled her eyes as she drew out the word, clearly being condescending. "It's never the Witch’s fault; I hear it every time I'm fixing them for blowing themselves in half for not reading a spell right. You play with dark magic, there's a cost." 

Emma scowled, hot tears starting and streaming down her cheeks. Her anger and ferocity that was there just moments before had evaporated without warning into a deep resignation. 

"Can my brother come to see me yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"After they question you, sure. He can come pick you up - You're done here." The nurse pulled off the empty bag from the IV stand, throwing it in the trash. 

The doctor entered, waving a hello. Emma did not notice her, too busy staring at her bump. She joined the nurse as a machine beeped, helping to take out her IV and the pads on her belly. When that was done, Emma sat up, wobbling from her strange new center of gravity. 

The doctor smiled at her kindly. "We'll have your test results in a few days to a week's time. You'll feel strange and sluggish the first few weeks as your body catches up to the rapid growth, your hormones, the magic, so on and so forth. From there, you may actually start to grow as normal until you'll need the next dose of suppression. We'll schedule that out for 4 months from now, checking in monthly, but if you grow suddenly, shrink suddenly, your extremities swell, or you begin to exhibit flu like symptoms, come in immediately. If anything seems off, just give us a call. We have a twenty-four seven nurse line should you have any other questions. Good luck!"

The doctor left without much more than a precursory glance back. 

Snapping her gloves, the nurse glared over her glasses at Emma. "Leave when you are ready. We got you a different outfit; it's amongst your personals there."

The nurse left in a hurry, leaving Emma to dress herself in a large pair of green hospital scrubs, her new figure completely foreign as she rubbed her hands across the smooth skin. Her once flat stomach was distended, a slight curve that pushed out stretched skin. Her clothes in the plastic bag they had given her were dirty and looked damp. The clothing she was given would have been a small comfort if the stiff fabric didn't feel so much like her old prison uniform. 

"Fuck," Emma choked out, gripping the chair for support. She felt dizzy, absolutely nauseated at the idea of a baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. Something in her felt warmth at the idea, a strange, creeping feeling of rightness mixed with calm. The rest of her wanted to claw at her skin, urging her to wake up from this horrible dream. 

Every time she closed her eyes, she fervently wished this wrongness was a hallucination. But it wasn't; she was still swaying on her feet every time she opened her eyes again. This wasn't some sort of nightmare, there was a baby, some creature's inhuman child inside her. "Fuck. Fuck!" 

Tears began to prick behind her eyes, her face heating as she sat down on the hospital bed with her head cradled in her hands. 

( You can't cry over this. This happened because of your shady dealings. 

  You got a firstborn child alright. Yours. )

Swallowing hard, Emma tried to banish the thoughts bombarding her. 

( A baby. A baby you can love and hold, who you will never abandon. Someone you can raise the way you weren't, a second chance. Put your armor back on - for you and your child. )  

Emma bit her lip hard, swiping angrily at her tears. Bottling up the emotions, she took a breath, grabbed her purse, and walked down the hallway. To her great surprise, Elsa was waiting. 

"Emma, oh my stars. This is - I have no words. I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered. Emma gave a half hearted shrug, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Yeah. Well. Can I go home yet? That's why you're here right?" Emma hated the anxious, pleading edge of her tone.

"No, not yet. You have to be interviewed by the inspector detective here and then you are free to go." Elsa approached and hugged Emma softly. "I got you a nice one though, he's one of my favorites. Jones. He's an Angel - literally and figuratively. He's saved me on so many cases, I can't help but sing his praise." 

"Oh Elsa. Thank you." Emma hugged her friend tightly, both of them trembling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Elsa scoffed. "I don't know what anyone would do. Joking aside, we are all going to be here for you, no matter what happens. It's not going to be like last time." Elsa pushed back a strand of Emma's hair, looking straight into her eyes. "You won't go through this alone. We're going to fight for you, and figure this out. Luckily, our major project is postponed anyway. Until they find the Demon Prince, the council is on a hiatus." 

"I just want to go home. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." Emma mumbled. "It's bad enough David probably knows, which means Snow and everyone else -" 

"Please don't push us away, Emma. We know it's a lot, but going into the unknown like this," Elsa took one of Emma's hands, squeezing it lightly. "Having a family, having faith and love - it's the only way to get through."

"Miss Frost," a low voice called from a room nearby. Elsa led Emma to a small office, smiling at the large Angel who stood on one side of a desk. He returned her smile, until Emma met his eyes. His frown was slow, not suiting his features, even when his blue eyes sharply laser focused on Emma's rotund body. She could see his muscles tense, his golden tinged wings giving the smallest of flutters. "Miss Swan."

"I'll leave you both to it, then." Elsa smiled, inspector Jones weakly returning it as she closed the door to them. 

Emma sat in the only chair on her side of the desk, landing with an audible noise in surprise. Her body was heavier now. Of course sitting felt wrong. Jones grunted before sitting in his chair, his presence formidable even with his wings unopened. He began jotting down notes, not looking up at her for a long, stretched pause of silence. Emma fidgeted uncomfortably, one foot bouncing on the floor. 

"Stop that at once," Liam growled, his eyes narrowed.

Emma stopped, hissing out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just -" 

"How did this happen?" Liam interrupted, gesturing at her with clear disgust. "Dr. Mullins indicates it was against your will? You haven't been sexually active to induce conception? Explain."

"Well, I um -" 

"And I must remind you Miss Swan," Liam grimaced, marking something on his paper. "Lying to me is a crime itself. Perjury."

"Yes, I uh - I know." Emma nodded with a gulp. She took a breath, centering herself, and began to tell him the entire story of what had taken place with Gothel. He listened in absolute silence, writing the entire time as his frown only deepened. When she had finished, he continued writing in the oppressive silence, until finally flicking his eyes up to glare at her again. 

"Is that all, Miss Swan?" 

"Yes, then I, um, got the cramps -" 

"Spare me the sordid details of the consequences your illegal activity most likely caused," Liam drawled, sarcastically. He leveled his angry, burning gaze at her, and she felt like an animal being cornered by much larger prey. "Now, I have some questions for you. Answer to the best of your ability, but remember -" 

"Do not lie, yeah I remember," Emma said softly. 

"Who says you Witches can't be taught," Liam sneered, his voice mocking. Emma felt irritation bubble up in her gut, her surprise that Elsa liked this asshole rising. If he was a good inspector, Emma never wanted to meet a bad one. "Now. What exactly did this Gothel ask of you in exchange for her firstborn?" 

"Youthful beauty and a long life, I think," Emma stated, thinking hard. "She wanted to be young forever. I told her that it wouldn't be instant or eternal, that she would have to wait. Now I know why it didn't bother her."

"Did she mention any other rituals, Miss Swan?" Liam asked. 

"No, but she did say that she was in a time crunch." Emma shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that means anything."

Liam looked at her with more vehemence, still writing furiously. "Did you feel any effects at that time?" 

"No, I was surprised I didn't with the amount of magic that detonated. I checked myself twice to make sure, once with a warding bind even." The strangeness of the situation and her clear confusion due to it made her voice sound foreign to Emma's own ears. Did he know how much she didn't want this? "Nothing. Then boom, today I - today this. She showed her true colors at the end, did an evil laugh and everything." 

Liam hummed disapprovingly, looking over his notes. Flicking his eyes back to hers, he glared with contempt. "Let me make sure I have this all correct. So, you and this other Witch do a forbidden and illegal ritual -" 

"I had no idea it was going to be this illegal, I swear!" Emma began to feel panic, her heart racing. "I thought I was helping -" 

"Sure, sure, even though you already have a record -"

"That was - That was different, I was set up and I -" 

"It seems like you are awfully good at being set up, Miss Swan. So what did you get out of this?" The inspector looked at her in disgust, folding his arms against his chest. "A Demon child to experiment on? Heightened powers?" 

"No! No, I had no idea she would - I didn't know - I thought later on that she'd give me her unwanted child. I didn't want another kid to be unwanted. I didn't know the parentage - "

The inspector interrupted with a loud scoff, leaning forward and leering at her. "Likely bloody story." 

"Detective Inspector Jones, I swear to you, I swear it - I had no idea what… I had no idea this would happen. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to get pregnant, I still don't know what to do."

"If it is a Demonic child, even only a half-breed, the best thing to do is give them up." Something painful twisted in her gut, a deep feeling of dread and wrongness. 

"I can't, I want to think about it and wait to look at options -"

"You can . You should . It will get easier the longer you are separated from the leeching thing." Liam's sneer turned into a look of pure disgust. "Don't wait, and get it out of you before it completely ensnares you in its unholy thrall."

"It's a child, sir, and my choice. I'm not making any promises -" 

"No Demon has ever been innocent, not even a baby. They are inherently selfish, cruel, and angry. Your mixed breed baby will be the same." Liam looked down at his feet, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on his knees. His voice had lost the cruel edge, and Emma felt her superpower activate. He didn't believe what he was saying, and as she watched him, she noticed how tired he looked. 

"Inspector, are... Are you alright?" 

"Miss Swan," Liam chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing up to look at her. "If I was in your position, I would worry about myself, especially if jail time was on the table." 

Emma felt as if he'd slapped her, air rushing from her lungs as her heart beat rapidly. 

"Jail time?" She asked in disbelief, "What about Gothel? Why are you demonizing me -"

"That is government business, Miss Swan." Liam stood stiffly, rummaging in his pocket. He fished out a card, carefully sliding it on the table towards her. "If you remember anything, contact us. Otherwise, we will be in touch. I'll have the nurse give you the proper paperwork and instructional pamphlets."

He turned, pushed the curtain aside, and Emma heard a soft whoosh of air indicating his exit. Looking down at her body under the scrubs, she cursed Eloise with every fiber of her being. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

  The first few nights were a string of blurry, anger, and grief strewn rampages. Elsa has taken her home, Emma unwilling to let David even see her until she had some space to take care of herself. She had sent a text, and after a lot of back and forth arguing surrounding his lengthy replies, David had conceded. 

  (She just couldn't right now. 

Not right now. Not yet.) 

A Celestial, or something similar. Most likely Demon, he had said. 

Gothel had not only gotten her pregnant, but with some Demon child that could be claimed by its monstrous father for who knew what awful reason. Emma shuddered at the thought, hands protectively resting on her small swell of stomach. Pulling them away as they trembled, she cursed her body and the invader that was making her feel so attached to it. Demons didn't exactly get along with any of the other demographics, but Witches and Demons had the most volatile relations amongst any of them. Her own child might grow to hate her, all because of how much Witches persecuted Demon kind. 

She could still… No. She would not terminate the baby this far along. Every part of her vibrated with the wrongness of the very idea, sending her retching into the kitchen sink. She gripped both sides of the basin, crying hot, angry tears as she came to terms with the parasite - the baby, the small baby, the life - occupying her body. As much as she tried to hate it, the only hate she could muster fell on herself and Eloise. 

Part of her felt crazed, crying in her bathtub, nauseated and afraid of every implication and outcome. Laying her head back on the tile, she wondered about what she was going to do. Rubbing her new bump slowly, Emma traced the curve. Sixteen months. A doubly long second trimester, and extended third, all while it changed with her body. Mixed children generally presented like their non-Demonic parent, and the pregnancy bond would be fierce regardless of species. Although it was doubtful at this point it was even in effect despite her behavior and thoughts, Emma smiled at the thought that she already felt attached to her baby. Her own family. 

Her brother was going to go insane, and her sister-in-law… Snow was always supportive and full of a positive outlook. Emma had teased her that it was an Elf thing, but her pointed ears would twitch as she blushed, and she'd mumble something about her plants helping. Smoking her pungent blends of cannabis could make anyone positive, and Emma was suddenly envious. 

Regina and the coven would be on the defensive, taking over everything in Emma's life without quarter. That would be another comfort, their careful planning and patience having gotten her this far through her difficult life. 

In the end, the coven, Ruby, and Snow were over shortly after her emergency summons, flying through her doorway. Ruby was a Werewolf Emma had befriended through Snow. While Regina disliked her, Emma didn't think she was any different than most humans other than her keen sense of smell and bluntness. It was these traits that immediately made it clear what was wrong. It would seem not everyone in their circles knew yet. That would take a few more days. 

“Emma,” Ruby whispered, horrified, her nose wrinkling as tears filled her eyes. “What did… Who did this to you?”

"They think it is a Demon, but it's almost definitely Celestial, or something with a dynamic gestational period due to magic." Just behind Ruby, the rest of the coven began appearing, all staring on her porch as Emma ushered them in. "Until I find out the father, I don't know, although most likely it's Demonic."

Regina's head snapped up. “A Demon? Emma, what do you mean dynamic -”

The women went quiet when Emma lifted her shirt to show them her bump, explaining everything. 

Emma laid her head in Snow’s lap after, feeling numb. Snow stroked her hair gently, looking at the others. Their coven was small, mostly women, but David and two other men were honorary members by means of dating or marriage. Anna picked at her braid, eyes wide, while Belle's mouth was still open from her earlier gasp. Mulan, Regina, and Merida were all business. 

“I'll hunt the Witch and her Demon pet down myself, and bring him back here. We can take turns peeling away his skin -” 

“Mulan,” Merida hissed, her curls bouncing when she nodded her head at Emma, who's eyes were welling with tears once again. 

“I thought… I thought I was doing something good ,” Emma burst into tears, sobbing into Snow, and Belle excused herself to fetch the whistling kettle from the stove. Pouring everyone tea, they tried to figure out what to do. 

“Well, you certainly can't go hunting skips,” Regina scoffed. “And this house, I mean, I get that you fixed it up but it's a dump -”

“Oh! David would be happy to have you back on the farm with us!” Snow lit up, but the thought of being around their saccharine relationship and the smell of incense, patchouli, and skunky smelling herb had her running for the toilet. The others talked and sipped tea, planning out things as Emma curled up on her bath mat. Maybe it was better to terminate, if the leap in growth hadn't made it too late. Would it be better to give it up? Her mind filled with swirling ideas, and Emma let herself get lost in her sadness. 

Ruby snuck in a moment later, sitting next to Emma quietly. 

“So,” she whispered quietly, and Emma cracked open an eye to look at her friend's face. 

“So,” Emma rasped back, her throat raw. 

“Apparently, you're going to go live with Regina in the Guest ‘Wing’, yes, not room, ‘Wing’, and work at one of Belle’s bookstores. I tried to chime in with what your input might sound like. They looked at me as if I'd eaten Anna's familiar. Not like Elsa would let me snack on knock-off Rudolph anyway. Miss Ice Queen has her fancy new council to lord over, so who knows. We could have some reindeer snacks.”

Emma snorted, a smile breaking across her face. 

“Look,” Ruby started, running a hand through her hair to push back her straight brunette style. ”I know how important it was for you to be independent, Emma. I know you really cared about Neal, too. I just… There's something… There's something really off with this situation, and it's not just my nose saying that you smell weird, like dark magic weird, or my gut saying a Witch that makes contracts with Demons for a baby, knocks you up, then just up and vanishes is bad news. I want you to be safe. I called Graham on your telephone, and there's an opening at his precinct I think you might like. It’s mostly paperwork -”

“Rubes!” Emma laughed despite herself. “That's awesome, thank you-”

“Just listen. I want to meet this… Demon. I still have this feeling like something is really off, and you're neck deep in danger. Besides, you know, the Demon part of the situation. Are you sure that you can't remember, er… Well. You know?”

“No, it was literally one minute I was fine, then the next the worst period cramps of my life while I inflated. I was sort of Instant Knocked Up, just add magic or whatever.” Emma rubbed her temples, and Ruby sighed. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Granny says that's most likely how I was conceived too.” Ruby flashed her a smile, and Emma laughed, hugging her friend tightly. 

“I don't know what I would do without you, Rubes.” 

“Look, I'm pretty sure Graham isn't into a menage et trois with a preggo, but I'll broach the subject.” 

“You're ridiculous,” Emma laughed. 

“You wouldn't have it any other way.”

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

Months passed slowly as Emma waited for the other shoe to drop. Work at the station was easy, filing reports and making coffee not troublesome at all. Liam apparently worked somewhere in the massive complex, but Emma made no moves to seek him out or head to the detective offices. 

Her house was almost completely redone and brand new; the floors, walls, ceilings, and everything in between redone with the utmost care. 

  ("I refuse to let you live like this and represent our coven," Regina ran a finger along the mantelpiece, grimacing when it came up dirty. "Are you sure that you have to live here?" 

"What Regina means," Elsa shot her a glare as Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers together, "Is that any of us would love to have you. Don't feel obligated to stay -" 

"But don't feel like you have to leave either. David and I would love to help you fix up the place, maybe have you make a few rooms?" Snow encouraged. David nodded, his arms crossed across his chest. 

Elsa clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh yes, you could make an apothecary room like the one you talked about, and a potion brewing room, a nice place to grow plants, a library -" 

"And we'd all pitch in, if you wanted to make a nursery?" Mary Margaret mumbled, almost shyly. "I wanted to throw a baby shower for you since we found out, but I didn't want to overwhelm you like I feel like I always do -" 

"Too late," Emma gritted under her breath, her friends already planning the event for her.)

  Emma actually had eased into the idea; at first it seemed absurd that they were planning for this when the whole situation was so strange. The father was still unaccounted for, even as the test results made it clear that the baby was of Demonic parentage. Sometimes Emma thought she could feel something, a little tug, the eerie feeling of being watched, or an emotion that wasn't hers flitting through her mind, but she dismissed them easily. More often, she was fascinated by the lack of information on the bond her and this child were supposed to have. 

Pouring over books, it was as if someone had removed or rewritten any passages about Demonic parenting, specifically with a non Demon parent. She had found minor information on the bond in a few books. It was supposed to be fierce, the instinct making women hysterical and unreasonable. It only got more intense when the father was around, cases of actions deemed feral surrounding the mixed couples she had managed to find. All of them had ended in tragedy, and Emma eventually found herself unable to stomach reading about them. 

Or anything really, food was enemy number one on baby's list, unless it was deep fried, covered in sugar, or drenched in sweetness. Without shame, Emma had managed to eat and keep down an entire jar of marmalade with crackers. 

When Snow, Elsa, and Ruby's grandmother had brought up the food options they would make if Emma would let them throw her a shower, she had caved. 

  ( "I will make you a bear claw cake, mini grilled cheese, and onion rings, amongst other things," Granny grinned. "And I will crochet you the most darling blanket for your little girl."

Emma tried not to drool, or give in. "That's nice, but I don't think I want that many people here, you know? That detective is watching my every move, I feel like a whale, I never know which food will agree with me -" 

"And I will make sure I have a never-ending hot chocolate drip for you." Granny's eyes twinkled, full of mischief. "With toppings."

"Including cinnamon?" Emma asked, unable to disguise the longing in her voice. Granny nodded firmly. "How did you know? Wait - did you say a girl -" 

"I just know," she shrugged. "Call it a wolf's intuition." ) 

It was supposed to be small, just a few people and family, but somehow it had turned into a full on social event. Emma was grateful that she had added a few rooms in the days before, the space sorely needed regardless of how drained she felt. Even still, she loved the house. It actually felt like hers, the exposed beams and vintage fixtures mixed with tapestries, framed art, and treasured photos. Her herbs dried above a large sink, food was spread along a long bar and buffet sideboard, and people milled around her living room that she had adjoined to two more exact copies through her doors. 

No need to be original there.

( Her private door stayed tucked away in the upstairs hallway, and it was unable to be unlocked by anyone but her. 

That was more important than a few extra rooms she could collapse after these people were gone. ) 

Emma was a good sport for the first couple of hours, playing games, being paraded around to people who apparently were important in the city, and sipping hot cocoa. Elsa, Regina, Mulan, and Snow were putting emphasis on her innocence, and although it was a spectacle, Emma hoped it would work. 

Two very terrible things ruined her mood. 

At some point, Elsa fell away from Emma's side, returning as cake was being cut. Her face was pinched, irritability written across it as she glared down at the slice she's given. 

"You okay?" Emma whispered, and Elsa blinked, looking up in surprise. 

"Oh, yeah. I just - I thought my date might show up, but he's working." Elsa gritted out the last word, anger seeping into it. "He's on this case, and it's important to him because it's family related, but I want him to understand that I have family too, and I could help if he just -" Throwing up her hands, Elsa groaned in annoyance. 

"I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about -" 

"Emma," David pulled her up by her arm, looking around as if checking for something. "Kitchen. Now."

There's no time to protest, his grip strong and firm, dragging her into the kitchen. 

"David, what the fu -" 

"That detective was here, asking about you," Regina hissed, pointing out towards where guests milled. "We made sure he left, but he was asking questions."

"Questions?" Emma repeated, fear gripping her. Elsa walked in, listening to the conversation beside her. 

"Like, if you had a history of criminality, if you knew and associated with undesirable magic users, if you knew who the father was or were protecting who did this to you," David said. The stillness around them seemed to tense just as they were. 

"If he questions you, you make sure to tell him that you know nothing," Elsa whispered, trying to hold her hand. "Make sure you proclaim your innocence, and he'll believe you, he has to -" 

"You think I haven't tried?" Emma ripped her hand away, looking at all of her friends with annoyance. "I agreed to this not knowing it was going to serve as some bullshit trial ball, where I'd be judged like this. I've searched everywhere for that woman, I have nothing to hide. She's disappeared, and not like a new identity in Guam disappeared, no. Like, off every plane of existence without a trace. It wouldn't matter if I did find her, because this is my kid. The bonds of the spell make her of my blood more and more every day. I can't just go back to the way things were - "

"What about the father?" Regina asked. 

"I don't know. I know nothing about him or why he hasn't come. As far as I know, he might not. I don't know how he couldn't feel these binds. I know I feel something, but it could be because I'm practically mooing, I'm so huge, and I have these crazy urges. The hormones alone here are making me feel insane, even before you started in on me. Even before that asshole showed up because we have the entire damn city here!"

"I told you this was a bad idea, Regina," Snow mumbled. Regina glared in return. 

"We - I just want you to know that no one will judge you for not wanting this, or for giving up the baby -" David said weakly. 

"Shut up David," Emma growled out. Her hands rested against her stomach and she felt like she was going to fall over. "Right now, shut up and do not go down that road." 

"Emma, it's making you feel attached," Regina said gently. "And if I'm agreeing with him, you know I - "

"I mean it, not another word. I'm keeping my baby, that's it. End all, be all. Say another word and I will curse your tomatoes," She pointed at David, then rounded on Regina. "And hex your wardrobe with bleach stains that don't come out. Try me."

"Fine!" Regina threw up her hands while David grunted. 

The kitchen went silent, the tension palpable. 

"We got you a really nice layette," Snow offered, trying to clear the awkwardness while smiling. "Come open gifts, and look at all this cuteness. "

Emma begrudgingly moved forward, her eyes widening at the mountain of gifts in front of her. 

"Don't worry," Anna whispered as she pulled Emma down to sit. "I'm writing your thank you cards for you."

The crowd thinned after gifts, the night trickling on as the house emptied. If Emma had felt drained before, now she felt completely devoid of energy. The small crowd that's left hadn't bothered her, so when Snow and Regina asked her to do another walk about with them, it seemed safe enough. 

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, his head nodding, laughing at something in his self absorbed sly little chuckle that makes her want to break his nose. She must have tensed because Snow was beside her and sucking in breath harshly through her teeth, the coven turning as if they could all feel the disturbance. 

( Maybe they can, maybe the unbridled audacity of this man being here with another woman as he laughs with a martini glass in his hand is enough to share one collective experience of hatred. His eyes meet hers and he gives her a smirk that screams pity and humor at her expense as he lifts his glass toward her, mouthing congrats ) 

A figure cut in front of her, and her rage that feels like a sickening punch in the gut is coupled by this smack in the face - Neal's father grinned at her, his cane on the ground while both hands rest on its handle.

"My my my, Miss Swan," Gold smirked the same smirk that she wants to rip off his face. "When we heard, we were so surprised to not receive an invitation to this… quaint event of yours. Truly poor manners when our covens are no longer supposed to be at odds."

Regina and Elsa were there in front of her in a flash, Snow pulling her away, words being exchanged in hissed tones. Emma could barely hear over her heartbeat, over the sound of her stomach screaming at her to vomit. 

"You can protect her all you want, but we know what she did. We know what it will be," Gold's voice slithered over her skin even in the bathroom. "You can't redeem her, and she will be the reason for all of your downfall. Enjoy your council while it lasts."

David shooed everyone out when Emma hastily retreated, the entirety of her patchwork family pushing inside to comfort her. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

After the disaster of her shower, Emma began to feel the strange feeling of being watched even more. It became especially noticeable at night when she rocked in the nursery, sorting out piles of gifts. It felt like a presence sat beside her or hovered over her shoulder, and it began to follow her into her dreams. 

They didn’t last after she woke, glimpses of a mirror, of the sound of pounding, a muffled voice that she can't make out. 

The tip of the weird iceberg happened when Emma had gotten out of the shower, the steam in the room rising to fog the mirror. Dressing in pj's and heading back in to blow dry her hair, she had been dancing along to some new pop song by the Wolves of London, when her eyes caught the words.

On the fog of the mirror, her name had appeared backwards, joined shortly by the word 'Help' in a curling script that she blinked at in confusion before they disappeared. 

( A baby, a Witch, and a Ghost. Just what she needs in the never ending chaos that has become her life ) 

Luckily, the Coven can save her ass again. 

Regina glared at Emma, her judging silence lay heavily over the room. She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching into further scorn, before asking again. 

"You want me to do what?" 

"Look, I know it's not your favorite thing to do, but you can and I don't have the gift or a guide like you do -" 

"That doesn't make it any easier!" Regina threw up her hands, then gestured to her pantsuit clad form. "It's my body, and my mother is just -" 

"I am begging you, Reg. Begging. You." Emma moaned, irritated. "The father is a complete mystery, there's a ghost in my house that I think has to do with him, and I'm scared it could be someone like…" Trailing off, she chewed her lip. 

Liam's increasing push for her to choose adoption had thrown her off her game these last few weeks, his phone calls almost non stop. In a way, he was right. She wasn't the only parent, and she certainly wasn't ready to be a mom. She was no one, absolutely nothing. It wasn't as if she could raise a baby. 

(Even if she wanted to, and the idea of her baby, her family enveloped in the family she chose and created, it made her feel nothing but happiness) 

Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. "Fine. Fine!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "I do this for you, and you owe me. I expect you to be at my whim for this."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I'm not doing it for long." She shuddered. "Every time I check out and she checks in, I feel so just -" She shuddered again, making a gagging noise. 

(Regina had done it before for David and her, to say goodbye to Ruth. It had hurt, hurt so badly, but not as much as Cora cutting the reunion short to tell her daughter to do more cardio.)

"I promise, we find his grandma or cousin or somebody, maybe whoever wrote that on my mirror, get the lead, and we're done." Emma nodded. 

With another sigh, Regina laid her hands over the table, palms up, and Emma laid her own over them. A lavender spark shot from their joined hands to the air above them, Regina's head falling back while purple smoke began to pour around the table, permeating the air. Regina shook slightly, before violently snapping her head forward and blinking. 

"Emma Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure of being ripped from my study?" A higher, nasal, woman's voice spoke out from Regina's mouth. "My daughter feels chubbier, and her skin is just -" Regina touched her face, making clucks with her tongue. "Oh, she is a mess! Did she break it off with that awful Warlock? Ugh, is she stress eating? I try not to pry, but I know she ate at least one slice of chocolate cake when she was out this last week -" 

"Cora," Emma gritted out, closing her eyes in frustration. "Cora, Regina is fine. If she wants to discuss her love life with you, she'll call you up on the Ouija. I need your help to find someone, and I don't know the someone."

"Well, aren't you in a pickle."

"Please Cora, it's not just for me!" 

"Oh, you're not interested in Regina are you? Because you are much too low a class for her breeding -" 

"Oh Merlin, no, no!" 

"What is it then?" Cora sighed in a bored drawl. "I've told you I can't find your family if they don't want anything to do with you, I -" 

"No." Emma let her chest fall, speaking quietly. "No it's not that. I remember from last time and I have a family now." Emma took a deep breath, pushing back against the hurt in her chest. "I need to know… I need to know who the father is, and I'm having trouble. I need you to see if you can reach a relative, or friend, or someone who knows why his offspring is inside me, as well as what it is. I got a visit from a ghost, so here we are."

"Oooooh!" Cora squealed. "An enceinte pregnancy Miss Swan? An illegitimate baby? A haunting? How very risqué and daring on your salary!"

"Cora!"

"Fine, I'll check. I'll want the details of this though, so don't spare any of the juicy bits." Cora winked with Regina's face, before the woman's body went slack. After a minute, her head lifted back up, blinking slightly. "Well, Emma, what a doozy this is. This woman will not stop talking, and it's absolutely ridiculous how impossible she's being, even if she is ancient looking. Yes, I said ancient looking - well don't get mad at me, I tell it how it is - oh, I don't care who your son is, he can't be that grand if he's knocked up this wreck. Sorry Emma dear, I love you, but I mean," Cora shrugged, unabashedly. 

"Cora, ask her what her name is!" Emma hissed. 

"What's your name then? Oh, that's interesting. Not as good as Cora, or Regina -" 

"Cora!" 

"It's Milah. And she's not his mum, she's - oh he's an ex lover of yours? Juicy juicy! Sounds like Emma dear might be getting leftovers then? Oh don't be like that -" 

"I need a name Cora, this is so -" 

"I'm trying Emma dear, the woman won't shut up about her sweetheart. No - Really? The scandal, but - well that is so weird! Milah says that he's been hidden somewhere and no one is haunting you, but… Ugh! She's speaking so rapidly - yes, I get it, but if he wants the kid he would have come to get it, or - I am listening to you, you're not listening to me! A mirror? You should look at one, why do I have to tell her about a mirror? I mean Emma's at most average, and look at her figure now. A child will do that to you." Cora sighed, and Emma stiffened. Cora seemed to nod for a moment, before Regina's face soured further. 

"Don't get smart with me, you may be an old soul but you died far younger than I did!" Cora growled, her eyes slitting at some unseen target. She turned with her head cocked, looking at Emma with pity. "I'm sorry Emma, sweet little duckling, but this woman is a nightmare. She keeps screaming at me about how this Killian fellow is the father, but it's impossible for her to see him for whatever reason. Something about a mirror? She's also absolutely ancient, I haven't seen clothing like that outside of - Pre-Babylon? Is that the robe designer or…? Don't look at me like that miss bed sheet toga, I - Emma, this woman, I swear! It's just incessant chattering, really - "

"His name is Killian? Cora, wait, don't you -" 

"I understand that you were crazy in love with him, trust me, you seem crazy Milah dear. Yes, Killian is his name. A Demon of lust for vengeance. Wow, Emma, what a winner!" Cora snickered, and Emma resisted the urge to shriek. "Well, I don't care if the beast is misunderstood, he's a Demon. How touching, now please - oh come now, Gothel in the tower with the mirror? Red spire, Troll falls? What is this, Clue? Do I look like a detective?" Regina's eyes rolled, Emma desperately trying to remember the snippets that might make sense. Gothel, tower, mirror, red spire, troll falls. Killian. 

Cora grew louder, her voice rising in pitch. 

"Oh, how dare you! I'll have you know your cheap robes aren't exactly chic either; you need a wardrobe update, badly! You look like a ten cent frat party attendee!" Cora spat, and Regina's face pinched tight. "Excuse me? More important things, WELL , I never - Oh you rude little tart, I've had enough!" 

"Please Cora, no, I -" Emma attempted, but Cora flipped Regina's hair back, sniffing with haughty indignation. 

"It'll be alright Emma, duckling. It seems that your little orphan persona is perfect to parent this little babe! Shut up! No, I'm done with you, you crazy broad. Go back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and buy some new linens!" Cora hissed, her mouth curled in an ugly snarl. "Anyways, Emma, just accept that you can't ruin a child to be like you if you're giving them a home, even if their father is some failed Demon. Or something inspirational, I don't know." She shrugged, Regina's shoulders going up in a blasé dismissal. Her eyes snapped to look behind Emma, her face contorted in rage. 

"Cora. I am begging you - " Emma tried again, but Cora's focus was elsewhere, on someone unheard and unseen. 

"Shut it, shut up thread count Cleopatra!" Turning back to Emma, she smiled serenely. "Tell Regina to summon me later, I need to know how she is. And tell her no more sweets, especially if she ever wants to be a wife. Ta!"

Regina fell forwards, her body shuddering as the lights flickered, purple smoke dissipating into the air. She moaned lowly, cracking her shoulders and neck as she rolled backwards. 

"Dammit!" Emma exclaimed, sitting up and violently stalking to the fridge. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" 

"Ugh, I can taste her perfume. Bring me a beer please," Regina groaned. Emma pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge, giving the beer to Regina. "Emma, don't you ever say that I don't love you after that." Regina shuddered again, flicking her hand to open the beer and drinking down half of it in one go.

"I know you do. You just have… You're just abrasive with it. Like a big cat, or an alligator."

(Or a wood chipper wearing lipstick) 

"Shut up, and tell me how it went. Was it worth it? Mother never is, but -" 

"She, uh, well she got me some information to go on. So, that's something." Emma averted her gaze, licking her lips. 

"She talked about my weight, didn't she," Regina sighed. When Emma said nothing Regina drank the rest of the beer and walked to the kitchen, depositing it in the trash. Pulling out a wine glass, she reached under her cabinet and produced a bottle of wine. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Don't even start on me."

"I wasn't going to," Emma whispered. 

Laying her palms flat on the countertop and bowing her head, Regina looked up after a moment's pause. 

"So, what now?" She asked. 

Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. "I have his name, or at least I think I do. I think all that's left is to, well, summon him."

(Summon him, and say what? 'Hey, Mr. Demon, I'm having your kid and thought you might like to know', as if it would care, or want anything to do with her...) 

Regina's eyebrows shot up. "Not alone, surely -" 

"No. I would ask Snow, David, and maybe Mulan and Belle. I know Belle would be delighted, and she has the spellbooks."

"That actually sounds like a relatively good plan." Regina nodded, then took a sip of her wine. 

"Don't sound so shocked, Regina." Emma grumbled. 

"Miss Swan," Regina smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "If you ever cease to stop shocking me with your antics, I'll assume I have gone to meet my mother and maker."

[corpsentry]

behind the taylor swift gundam was in fact another, smaller gundam: a brief inquiry into the events of june 2020

so back in june this year june and i got together and we made this motherfucker of a story with this motherfucker of a thread to keep track of it all. but you already know that! and i’ve already got one foot and three elbows in my grave, so i’ll spare you the long-winded stuff. you wanna know how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks? i’ll tell you how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks-

-by linking you guys to copies of my planning documents because i feel like those words speak louder than any words i can offer in the present day. these are long documents. but they are also historical artifacts. very interesting. very weird. very, uh, full of cussing. so anyway, here’s

BIG DADDY: THE ORIGINAL PLANNING DOCUMENT

for those, like me, who have no motivation left in life to do anything and rely on summaries from others to acquire new knowledge, it all started with a single line.

prince of a fallen kingdom atsumu tries to kill hinata but falls in love with him instead

june, april something, 2020

with that in mind i tested the concept out with a few paragraphs of text, which you can find at the bottom of the Big Daddy document in the graveyard segment, accidentally sold my soul to the image of hinata with epaulettes, and then worked backwards, structuring an entire plot around two images:

a) hinata getting the shit beat out of him, with snark b) hinata and atsumu dancing in an empty ballroom under the stars

if you want a betrayal, you have to have something worth losing. if you want to fall in love with someone you don’t know, you have to meet them. if you have to meet them, there has to be a reason for that meeting, and so somewhere in between atsumu became a sword instructor and hinata the prince with daddy issues. june and i used this method of glancing anxiously over your shoulder to see what you’d missed to fill out the blanks in the story, after which i tacked up a bunch of post-its, typed out the plot, consulted june, typed out the plot again, and then broke the characters down into a bunch of questions, like ‘what do they want?’ and ‘what do they have?’ and ‘what are they afraid of?’

with the plot more or less ironed out, i decided it was time to start writing, and then i decided that i was actually too scared to start writing after all, so instead i set a couple of timers using classroomtimers.com (15-20 minutes long) and i sat down and i wrote about the world that hinata and atsumu inhabited.

each warm-up was 300-500 words long, and for the first few days, i’d write one before getting into writing the story proper. later these evolved into simply picking a scene from the story and launching straight into it, which became useful for opening those scenes later when i got to them organically.

then i got lazy! so i stopped. but these shitty little exercises were really useful for me because, unfettered by plot, convention, or any kind of tradition hovering over my shoulder, i was able to fuck around loosely enough to realize what i wanted this story to be. it was a very contrived kind of trial-and-error, an exploration of the characters, the story, but most importantly, the tone.

RESEARCH, PLANNING, AND VICTORIAN BOUGIE FASHION

this is a loose map of the castle and Important Locations within it, which i drew up at the start so i could keep track of where everything was and how i could get my characters from point A to point B. i wanted the story to have Some kind of internal logic, you know, even if that logic amounted to ‘a compass would function normally in this world whereas kageyama tobio would not’.

99% of my planning and organizing within those five weeks took place in this lovely dotted cat journal which my sister gave me for my birthday and i repurposed into a metaphorical Diary of Suffering while working on juno. i used it for everything from keeping track of narrative threads to clothing consistency checks, but the main purpose was this: each day at about 10 pm i’d crack open the cat book to a fresh page, stamp the date and the day of suffering at the top, and then write down a list of things i wanted to write, address, or fix today. then i’d sit at my laptop and write like a madman until about 7 in the morning. with breaks, of course, for sitting in the bathroom and staring at the wall and sitting in the kitchen and staring at the wall, but mostly i was writing. and complaining about writing. you were there, you probably remember that.

anyway, here are some pages from the cat book.

aside from the fact that my handwriting is complete shit, you can see that i made zero effort for any of this to be presentable. it was mainly a way for me to keep track of my thoughts because i have the attention span of an ikea wardrobe and tend to forget things as soon as i think of them. the lack of structure also mirrored the way that i went about writing juno. while i did proceed, for the most part, in chronological order, i had a lot of weird and useless revelations during lunch, which by this point was happening around 2 am, and in the 5 minutes before the exhaustion finally hit and carried me down to hell. i changed A Lot. again, to understand exactly how much the story evolved from day one onwards, please consult the big daddy document.

in the meantime, here’s something else.

once june sent over hinata and atsumu’s character designs i sat down like the fucking fool i am and spent 2 hours poring over a document about victorian and other fashion movements of the past so i could assign a noun, adjective, and verb to each element of their outfits. i don’t know why i did this. i certainly could have not, but i attempted to make sense of their ‘fits from a logistical perspective and that went into the cat book too. everything went into the cat book. the cat book is a relic of the past now, stuffed with artifacts such as the birth of oikawa tooru, and also his demise.

MEDIUM DADDY: EDITING, PROOFREADING, AND CREEPY MURDER CATS

i finished writing on june 26th, 2020, approximately a month after i’d first started planning, somewhere around may 27th or 28th. at that point i had about 90,000 words’ worth of story and no sanity left whatsoever, so i took a day-long break to stare at a wall and listen to taylor swift’s enchanted on loop.

and then i made a new document, which you can look at using the link above, and i laid out everything i had to do. i’d discovered a fuck ton of plot inconsistencies and general errors while writing and lying awake in bed at 9 a.m., sleepless in seattle, and now that i was free of the demon egging me towards the first finish line, it was time to Deal with them. i speed-scrolled through the draft, which was 200+ pages compressed into one google doc, because i like to tempt god’s wrath, and fixed up all the plot issues over the course of a few days. this was the fun part.

the actual, hard editing was the extremely un-fun part. i reread the entire thing, paragraph by paragraph, line by damn line, from start to finish, paying especially close attention to awkward phrasing, incomplete dialogue, and moments which had fallen flat in my haste to get on to the next one. this was really fucking terrible. i spent more time lying facedown on the floor than actually editing anything, but after a long time (about a week), that, too was done.

SMALL DADDY: TITLES, SUMMARIES, AND GOOD FUCKING BYES

i spent a good eighty days thinking about the title, though hilariously enough we ended up with something that was a blend of our names. june + elmo = juno, which is, all things considered, pretty perfect, but the process of picking the title was Hell, and i Did Not Come Up With The Title until about 2 hours before posting. you can take a look at the haphazard clusterfuck of my title-selecting process in small daddy, which is linked above.

so the title was a last-minute choice. so was the summary. and the chapter divisions. and actually all the songs in the playlist for juno. the day we dropped juno onto planet earth like a newborn baby pitched out of the sky, i spent an hour hunched over my laptop, cutting my 213 page google doc into chapters based on nothing more than a Vibe. two days before that, i also attempted to voice-act the entirety of juno, an affair which ended at the 20,000 word mark with a sore throat and the kind of exhaustion one typically wants to sleep in a coffin for 23 years to get rid of. so in all honesty, i did very little editing, which is why there are definitely minor typos and/or mistakes hanging out somewhere on that chunky ao3 webpage. but whatever.

my attitude by july 5th (was it july 5th? or 4th? somewhere around there) was basically whatever. anything so i could get finish this damn thing, chuck it out of the window, and never see another google doc until the next century. i’ve been asked a few times how exactly i wrote at a rate of roughly 2000-3000 words per day for four weeks straight, and my answer has always been this: i died. what died, you ask? my soul. my spirit. my Will To Live. i’m a creature of fixations, and juno was my fixation for june. will i ever be able to do this again? would i recommend this experience to anyone? is god real? the answer to all of the above is probably no. juno was a fever dream, and so is my cat book. and so are all the lattes i had. and so was my 9 am to 4 pm sleep schedule.

but what we made is real. the research, oikawa tooru, the 4 am conversations in which i was like ‘how the fuck do i end this’ and june was like ‘jade proposal’ (the proposal was her idea. all rise for twitter user atsuhinas. she is the mastermind behind all of the Inch Resting moments in this story; i just flapped a korok leaf in her direction and made sure the air circulation was working properly) are real as fuck, and looking back, there’s a lot i’d change, but i’m lazy. and college is starting. and anyway, i did write 93,035 words in just under five weeks, four if you don’t count the week of Editing Hell, so i think that’s pretty cool.

thank you for reading this to the end, and for following us on our journey through the enigmatic taylor swift gundam fic which quite literally consumed my entire twitter account for the five weeks i spent working on it. retrospectively speaking i really was butt-obsessed so i am frankly incredibly impressed with everyone around me for putting up with a Husk of a Man for a month. thank you for doing that. thank you for indulging my vague tweeting, and our butterfly dns, and for reading 93 thousand words of gay fanfiction set in a high fantasy world with epaulettes and galettes. on behalf of june, once again, we are incredibly grateful for all your support.

if you have any questions about specific aspects of the writing process, or anything you’d like to know in general with reference to JUNO, feel free to drop me an ask through my tumblr inbox, or through my curiouscat over here. i’m aware i didn’t cover everything, but there’s frankly too much to put in a tumblr post without passing away somewhere around the 56% mark, so let me know what’s on your mind, and i’ll try to answer that to the best of my abilities. but anyway, before i go, here are some

TAKEAWAYS

one: don’t try to write 93,000 words in five weeks. seriously don’t fucking do it you will end up jittery and sleep-deprived and you will leave all your friends on read for a month. pace yourself. set realistic goals. you wrote 2k this week? that’s fantastic. you wrote 4k in a day? you absolute motherfucker. i hope you’re taking a long fucking break tomorrow. your story will not run away from you, but if you run too fast, you will get tired, and then you will pass away.

two: you don’t have to know everything about your story before you start writing. in fact if you have a single camera shot of two characters holding hands under a rose garden awning, i think that’s fucking wonderful. if you look at big daddy, you’ll realize that my initial plot draft, and all the ones following that, are not perfectly aligned with the final version of juno. i improvised over half of the scenes in this motherfucker, and to be completely honest, some of the improvised scenes were the best. fucking oikawa tooru was improvised out of nowhere. he only got written in way later, around chapter 8 or something, because i realized i needed a plot device and a source of information to keep the playing table from toppling over. i Sat Down one day and was like ‘okay, it’s time to write oikawa into the introduction. because he matters now. he didn’t matter last week but now he does, and soon he’s going to be the fulcrum of the entire story, because it’s like that with oikawa tooru’. it’s okay to change your mind halfway. it’s okay to go back and rewrite entire scenes or segments. it’s okay to highlight 4 pages of fresh, sentimental writing, and hit delete. writing is a fluid process, and you Will make discoveries as you progress through your story alongside your characters. be understanding of that iterative process. be kind to yourself.

three: You Are That Motherfucker. you, me, your dog, your dog’s friend, your dog’s enemy, all of us are that motherfucker. i never thought i’d be able to write anything longer than the great big map, which was a much simpler, linear story in which the other main character did not appear in the current timeline until like the eighth chapter. juno was different. juno was the motherfucker, and i was scared shitless of it, and to cope with that fear joked constantly while writing that it’d never see the light of day.

but it did. it was a rocky process, and i was awake for 48 hours after posting it because of the sheer adrenalin stuck in my skull, but i got through it. and i wouldn’t have been able to do it without june, who stepped in when i flopped over facedown on the floor and dragged me to my feet like the badass friend she is, and without everyone else in my life, who put up with me talking about The Thing that i couldn’t really talk about, but juno’s up there now. forever, or until the internet collapses and civilization goes extinct. and if the nineteen year old clown with the attention span of an ikea armchair and an a level certificate from hell wrote the 93,000 word long thing, so can you. i mean this completely unironically and with every ounce of genuine emotion i can summon from the cracked asshole of my heart.

writing is hard. writing is scary. writing is an investigation of the world around you and therefore, by extension, yourself, and that kind of honesty is freaky. it’s like going skinny-dipping next to the president’s mansion. who’s going to see you? what if they take a photo? what if you lose your spot at university?

but don’t think about that. our world is overrun with stories the way cereal bowls are full of cereal, but it’s those stories that keep us all sane in the disgusting day-to-day muck of reality, so think about your story. what’s haunting you today? what message do you want to leave printed in font size 666 comic sans across the southern hemisphere of the planet? what will you be tomorrow?

a writer. you’re going to be a motherfucking writer.

[indestinatus]

Despite All Odds

TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 20

↳ prompt: Apple-Picking - rated M (1,596 words)

summary: Ziva plans a date on an apple tree orchard, and an important conversation ensues.

A/N: for @sweetsouldhavernas​, who guessed the plot of this fic days before it was even published haha <3 

read it on AO3 🍎

Aiming for that one apple hanging a just bit too high on the tree, Ziva stretched herself as best as she could but still wasn’t able to reach it. The basket around her elbow was already halfway full, but the harvest season had been great - she could’ve easily filled two of them if she wanted. 

A light breeze fanned her hair. From that level of the ladder, she could see the many symmetrical rows of apple trees stretching over the farm hills until they disappeared into a valley below. The sky was cloudy, but that was expected. It was the middle of October, the fall season having reached its peak. 

It was her favorite season. It calmed her. She liked to drink tea on the windy afternoons and drape the cushions with blankets, ones that would warm her whenever she chose to read. There was something incredibly soothing in watching the leaves changing colors and knowing that time didn’t hold still. That she could also change with it if she wanted to. 

It had been her idea to come. She thought it would be nice to do something outside for a change. Even if it was cozy to stay inside next to a fireplace, in her eyes, nothing would compare to feel the wind in her face, the smell of nature surrounding her. 

Ziva looked down to find Tony watching her, his fingers laced behind his head from where he was laying down under one of the trees. 

“You know this is a date, right?”

He opened a lazy smile. “Yeah.”

“So you’re just going to lay down there and watch?”

Tony looked around him, taking in the picnic cloth placed under the tree shade, the bottle of red wine they were sharing without any glasses (he’d forgotten them inside the dishwasher), and the already empty picnic basket; shrugging with his hands still laced behind his head. 

“Sounds good to me,” he motioned with a chin to where she stood on the ladder, his eyes still lazily watching her. 

“Wow,” said Ziva, rolling her eyes. 

“What?” Tony protested, bending forward to sit down. “What do you want me to do?” he complained, but there was a smile in his voice. “It’s a picnic. We even brought that fancy basket I thought wasn't a real thing until now.” He motioned to the picnic basket, lifting his brow. 

“And I’m eating healthy, see?” Tony raised a hand to pluck one of the apples off the tree and took a bite of it. “Progress,” he added with his mouth full. “You should be pleased.”

“Fine,” Ziva shook her head, giving up and turning to face the tree again. “I’ll do the apple-picking. Just… Let me know if you spot anything good so I can grab them.”

One moment she was appreciating the view of the orchard down below, and a moment later, Ziva felt the air being sucked out of her lungs, an arm grabbing her middle to pull her down to the ground. 

“Tony!” Ziva screeched, trying to find her balance as she felt both her feet leave the ladder.

The apples tumbled down to scatter across the ground, making her once almost full basket now feel near empty. Tony held her from behind, his body directly under where she was laying down under another tree’s foliage. 

“Sorry,” he hastily kissed her hair, tightening his grip. “Thought you’d asked to grab what I thought was good.”

Wondering if she would ever get tired of his flirting, Ziva chuckled, relaxing in Tony’s arms. A grin stretched across her face when he started planting kisses everywhere, from her hair to her face, his legs tangling with hers. 

Ziva turned her head to face him, finding his lips in no time. The kiss was soft and slow, as if they had all the time in the world. First, only their lips were pressed together, then Tony’s tongue brushed against her mouth in silent invitation and she opened it, meeting him halfway. 

Her hands found his short hair and tugged it softly, receiving a praising groan from him immediately. In a matter of seconds, Tony untangled their legs only for Ziva to straddle him, raising them to a sitting position. 

He beckoned her closer, his tongue exploring her lazily. Ziva could still taste the red wine they had shared directly from the bottle, the cool sensation of his mouth turning the kiss addictive. 

Tony groaned again when she bucked her hips closer, the sound coming from the back of his throat. Ziva just really couldn’t help it, not with his hands tugging her hair at the back of her neck, and really not when he was clearly enjoying it - his jeans feeling tighter underneath her. 

He let out a protesting whimper when she broke the kiss, cupping his cheeks. 

Ziva found his eyes heavy, a look of affection mixed with clear lust. 

She studied the way his freckles were fading, now with the summer long gone. His arms still hugged her tight, pulling her as close as possible until there wasn’t any space between them. Ziva briefly kissed him one more time and felt his lips linger before she drew back again. 

“Did you always think it would have come to this?” she asked, raising a hand to run through his hair. 

Tony watched her closely, a slight frown appearing. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” Ziva replied, catching the sparkle in his eyes once he understood. “This… What we have. Was it something expected?”

“Hmm,” Tony narrowed her eyes slightly before replying, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, you couldn’t stop flirting with me, so…” He opened a slow grin. “What can a guy do?” 

Ziva rolled her eyes, deciding not to comment on the matter. Both of them knew he flirted way more, especially lately. She mentally noted to reflect upon it later. 

“You?” Tony asked, his gaze suddenly curious. 

Ziva chose her words carefully. “I never…” she breathed, meeting his eyes again, “I never saw it coming.”

Tony’s brow shot up. “Really?”

Ziva nodded after a moment. “Really.”

“Someone as predictable as me?”

“You surprise me more than you think.”

A flicker of amazement passed his eyes, and Ziva offered him a small smile. 

Smiling as well, Tony fixed his gaze on her mouth for a moment before he raised his thumb to brush at her cheekbone. 

“It was inevitable,” he said quietly, and Ziva wondered if he’d meant more to himself than to her. 

“Nothing is inevitable.”

“I know, I mean… Not about being attracted to each other, but…” Tony sighed, trying to find the right words. “It always felt like… Like it was something already bound to happen. It felt too natural. The way we talked, the jokes we made… God, even the stuff I didn’t say,” he chuckled. “It’s like you knew me more than I did.”

Ziva smiled. “Written in the stars?”

He snorted, shaking his head, “Don’t make me puke now. That one apple really was the one healthy thing I’ve had all week.”

“Good heavens.”

“You should really start cooking something else other than Italian food.”

“I am using your roots to try to sweep you off your feet.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes sparkled, the arms around her middle pulling her closer.

“Consider me swept,” he said. “My cholesterol thank you.” 

Ziva chuckled and Tony’s eyes followed hers, affection so clear in his gaze it made her chest tighten. 

He raised a hand to brush a strand of hair off her face. The air turned intense again, but a different kind. They looked at each other as if they both knew that what they felt was real, and rare and true. It was the certainty that they were partners, and right for each other. It was difficult to find, that type of understanding. 

“I am madly in love with you,” said Tony, as if it was already a known fact. “Since the beginning. Despite all odds, I always knew.”

“You make it sound so…”

“Romantic?”

“I was going to say Victorian.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before his smart eyes met hers again. 

“I was trying to sweep you off your feet,” he smiled. “I love you. God, Ziva, you changed my life.”

Ziva was amazed that he still managed to make her heart flutter, even after all those years together. She had never felt something like it, the love she felt for this man, and for once it wasn’t suffocating. It felt right, and even if she didn’t see it coming, now she couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. 

“I think…” She ran her hand through his short hair again, “I love you, too.”

Tony huffed, his eyes sparkling, “You think?”

Ziva pursed her lips. “I am not sure… If all the dates with you are like this, I may have to step up my game.” She gave him a smile, one that wrinkled the corner of her eyes. 

“You are the game, Zi.”

“And you, Anthony DiNozzo,” she bopped a finger to his nose, “Are the best plot twist a girl could have.”

His lips tugged upwards. “Movie reference?”

“Calm, now. I am not that desperate.”

Tony huffed as if he knew the truth and his lips met hers again. 

Then he kissed her. Softly, lazily, taking his time. Ziva let him pull her down on top of him, their legs tangling together again. 

Under that apple tree orchard, Ziva had never felt more at peace. Despite all odds, she knew.

He was right, after all.

Somehow, this, them… what they had—everything had been inevitable. 

[nightglider124]

RobStar Week 2020: Day 2

Oof, I don’t actually like this one. Which... it’s a shame cos I was excited to write this and it’s an idea I wanted to do for ages but decided to use it for this years robstarweek. 

This is an... alternate cave scene from the episode ‘Stranded’.

Idk... I botched it lmao. I am... my writing skills have honestly gone down the pan, ngl. 

BLEH WHATEVER. Enough of the negativity.

Hope you guys at least take some joy from this one. Hopefully I will do better than I have with the first two prompts for this week.

___________________

Warmth

Robin sucked in a deep breath as he reached up and snapped off a wayward branch that seemed to have snuck through the cracks of the cave they had taken shelter in. It had been a bit of a challenge to find wood of all things on this strange planet at first but after some time, the two of them had managed to get a small fire going.

His heart was still pounding from what had happened. The last thing he expected was for the ground to shake and give out beneath their feet as they attempted to find the others. Robin was more than ready to find the missing members of his team, head home and put as much distance between them and this death trap of a planet as he could. 

Pausing before he walked back over to the small fire, he chanced a glance over his shoulder at Starfire. Ever since they had plummeted into an inky abyss, she had been mysteriously and uncharacteristically quiet. 

She was sitting on a log that was on one side of the flames, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, as if shielding herself from harm. It was a first to see Starfire practically retreating in on herself and barely speaking to him.

He could feel the anxious knot in his chest, tighten suddenly as he dwelled on their situation and the conversation they had been having just before the cliffs collapsed. 

The whole mission had been a complete train wreck. He wished, more than anything, he could go back to that space station they’d arrived at, defeated the screaming monster with her and then ushered Cyborg out before he could tease anything at all.

Robin furrowed his brows beneath his mask as he remembered the memory from earlier that day. He was so stupid for reacting like that. In reality, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend who was a girl but… romantically? He didn’t think they had breached that recently or at least, it wasn’t made clear to him if they had moved forward like that. 

It was true that there was some underlying connection; something that drew them to one another but they’d never taken the time to discuss it or broach the subject before. With him being practically allergic to any conversation pertaining emotions, he had always shut them down or avoided those types of conversations with her before they even had a chance of starting. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her because he did. He’d thought about it and imagined what it would be like, many times since he had first met her. Robin wondered all sorts of things in regards to if they were to take their relationship further, into unknown territory. 

But, in truth, it scared him. He didn’t know what he would have to expect and didn’t know if they would last, despite hoping they would. 

There was this weight hanging on his heart now, just holding him down and denying him any of the confidence he usually had. She had been off with him ever since they had found one another which, after some probing and careful tiptoeing, he had realized that she was still angry and a little confused about what he had said. 

It was obvious that it had been going through her mind and she had started thinking about it on a deeper level, despite his words being more of a defensive response to Cyborg’s jabs, than anything else.

God, he couldn’t wait to give Cyborg double training when they eventually got home.

He inwardly scolded himself for not giving her credit where the English language was concerned. At first, he thought she was confused over the wording but after some time, he learned that she knew full well what Cyborg meant by his word choice. 

She was upset because he seemed so flippant and dismissive of it altogether.

Robin closed his eyes for a moment and tried to organize his scattered mind. There was a plethora of thoughts racing through his brain, including finding the others, hoping they wouldn’t run into any other weird beast like creatures as well as getting off of this crumbling planet as soon as possible. 

But, sitting at the forefront of all of that, was Starfire. He was concerned about her and their friendship too. Back when they had started falling, she had been unable to tap into her flight and it had utterly terrified him when she had yelled that she couldn’t fly.

It had never happened before. 

Starfire had always been solid in terms of relying on her powers and she’d never faltered in the slightest in any battle they had had since they’d first banded together as a team. 

On the flip side, he wanted to know if they were okay. One of the main reasons he had always steered away from admitting to any romantic feelings towards her was because he didn't want their friendship to change because of any harboured emotions.

He bowed his head and opened his eyes again, allowing the hand that was resting against the cave wall to slide down the jagged surface until it fell away to his side.

Swallowing sharply, he shook his head and turned around, wandering back towards their makeshift safe spot.

His heart was beating a mile a minute as he reached her, throwing the branch into the flames and watching as she shifted away slightly so that her back faced him a little more. 

Robin frowned and slowly sat on the opposite side of the wooden log, “Starfire…” He murmured, his tone soft, “What happened back there? Why couldn’t you fly?” 

He heard her sniffle quietly before she turned to gaze at the fire, her expression telling of what she was feeling. She looked tired and frustrated; upset that she had had no real answers to her questions since the explosion back at the space station.

“Tamaranean powers are inclined by our emotions…” She admitted, her eyes lacking the electric spark they usually had. 

“So the way you feel affects your ability to fly.” 

Starfire nodded solemnly, her emerald orbs shifting with uncertainty, “And right now, I feel unfamiliar confusion.” 

“But… we’ve faced danger before without your powers failing.” Robin pointed out, a sudden heat consuming the back of his neck as he sensed it wasn’t exactly that, that was the problem,

Starfire sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, her feet resting on the log as she turned her head away to the dark side of the rocky cavern. 

“It is not danger that confuses me, Robin. It is you.” She confessed, opening her eyes and staring directly at him, “I do not understand… us.” 

Robin felt his throat run dry and he fought not to visibly react to that, despite his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest with the anxiety that came hand in hand with these types of discussions. He pulled an awkward expression, without even realising it, as the inferno creeping up the back of his ears intensified and he knew it was only a matter of time before the blush spread to his cheeks.

“Ever since Cyborg said… the ‘girlfriend’... things are different between us.” She continued, tilting her head a fraction,

Reverting back to what he thought might work, Robin forced a smile onto his face and held a hand up to stall her words, “It’s... just a misunderstanding....” He explained, “Everything’s okay.”

He tried to brush it off and act as though things were absolutely fine when he knew, deep down, they were not and this wasn’t something that Starfire was going to simply let go without talking about.

And… maybe that was a good thing. Possibly.

Starfire rebuffed this and got up from where she had been perched, “Everything is not okay.” 

She moved away from him, once again turning her back on him as she shuffled into the shadows of the cave. He frowned, hating the air of sadness that was tainting her voice every time she spoke. 

He more so hated the fact that he was the cause for said sadness. 

“We are not okay. I fear we will never be okay again and you will not tell me how you feel.” She whimpered, trying to detach from him by standing so far out of reach.

Robin stood as well, clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his cape as he crossed some of the distance between them, “Uh… I’m not… very good at that.”

It was the truth. He supposed he should probably be honest with her about how difficult he found situations like these. Despite not wanting to talk about feelings at the risk of making himself vulnerable, he realized it was Starfire and if anyone deserved some kind of answer to the way he acted, it was her.

Starfire sniffled again and slowly half turned towards him, her expression one of discouragement, “Do Earth boys come with… some kind of manual then?” 

He was powerless to stop the soft smile that graced his lips at that, once again acknowledging how endearing and sweet she was, without even realizing it herself. 

Robin breathed a laugh, “That would make things easier.” 

She spun on her heel and strode back over to him, keeping her distance by remaining on the other side of the scorching blaze. Her eyes bored into him, silently pleading with him to offer something up, just to satisfy her doubts in some way, “How am I to know what you think about me?”

Robin sucked in an exasperated breath, having not been prepared for this at all and knowing, if he were to try and explain to her what he felt or even, what he liked about her, he’d become a babbling mess.

“Starfire…” He sighed, practically his whole upper body slumping as defeat started to consume him.

There were so many things that he liked about her. In fact, it was probably a shorter list to tell her what he didn’t like and that was extremely barren. 

He loved how carefree and bubbly she was and how even the simplest things on Earth were things she found utterly fascinating whilst the average human wouldn’t even bat an eyelid. 

He loved how caring and sweet she was with everyone around her. Whether they were friend or foe, she constantly tried to see the positive and the good in individuals who, most of the time, didn’t even deserve it. 

He loved how intelligent and strong she was, being able to handle herself in practically every situation she found herself in. Her powers were just an extension of her warrior self, fully capable in the art of combat, should the need ever arise. 

Robin blinked to himself as reason after reason sailed through his head, her question having stayed with him for so long, he suddenly realized that he hadn’t replied to her at all. He cleared his throat and ignored the way his face was now roasting with embarrassment,

He wasn’t sure he could say any of that to her and rather do what he most likely should have done and told her what he thought about her, Robin simply flapped his mouth open and closed, again and again like a fish gasping for breath.

Starfire’s demeanour slipped and whilst she had looked hopeful and excited to hear what he thought about her and their relationship status, it suddenly dwindled faster than water trickling down a drain.

Her eyes became dull and her shoulders lowered, casting a glance off to the side before she took a step away from the fire again,

Robin felt trapped; he didn’t know what he could say to possibly salvage this. He had just been handed a silver platter of a chance, to clear things up between them but there was something in the pit of his stomach that simply refused to let him open up in such a way. 

“It… It does not matter…” She whispered, her tone low, “I am... sorry for pushing you to speak about this and… it is clear to me that… Cyborg was wrong. I am not your girlfriend and I… should never have expected or assumed otherwise.” 

He could see her chest rising and falling a little faster than before and he took the smallest step forward, unsure if she was crying, her face being distorted by the dim lighting being cast around the cave.

Robin swallowed the mountain in his throat, panic and regret locking in his chest. He was already kicking himself for not saying anything, leaving her to stew in her own insecurities in relation to him and how he felt about her. 

There was a frantic aura, flaring in his head like alarm bells. He wanted to take it back, redo the whole conversation and set it straight that he thought she was beautiful, kind and amazing; just a few traits, beyond an entire list of other reasons why he was falling more in love with her every day since he met her. 

“Star-” He croaked, reaching a hand out to her.

She stepped away and offered him the tiniest smile that spoke volumes of how she was truly feeling; the conversation not having gone at all how she hoped it would and it was all down to him for being an idiot and deflecting her.

He didn’t blame her in the slightest. Starfire was a creature of emotions. Tamaraneans wore their hearts on their sleeves, being open with how they felt and what they thought which was a stark contrast to how most humans operated.

Starfire had often pointed out that humans constantly seemed to complicate matters with words and logic, rather than just riding out circumstances with their hearts.

“There is a storm coming.” Starfire blurted, briefly eyeing the darkening sky through the small gap in the side of the cave; a sure fire exit once it was safe.

Blinking, Robin inclined his head to catch a glimpse of the outside. The sky was full of dark clouds, with an amber shade drenching the entirety beyond it. He continued to stare out until he saw a flash in the distance, illuminating the clouds before it faded out. 

Soon enough, dust and sand began to swirl as the wind picked up and howled outside. He considered asking Starfire if it was a sandstorm, since she would be more familiar with the types of storms that happen in space, but ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the most appropriate time.

“I believe we should rest and try to find our friends once it is safe outside.” She suggested, tentatively pushing some of her auburn hair behind her ear, “Who knows? Perhaps they will find us, instead.”

Robin watched in silence as she moved around their little campsite and he wished he could grapple for something to say. 

“We probably shouldn’t sleep… we don’t uh… we don’t know if there are more things like that slug…” He murmured as he crouched down, trying his best to respect her wishes to be on the whole other side of the fire from him.

Starfire nodded, “We do not necessarily need to sleep. If you would prefer to stay awake…”

He watched as she lowered herself to the ground, brushing at the dirt before she laid her head down, turning away without saying anything at all. Robin frowned and felt an empty bubble in his stomach; a hollow guilt and he wanted to apologise to her and make things better but… he really didn’t know how.

How could he possibly make it better after practically avoiding her questions and her frustrations all day?

Robin exhaled quietly and tried to ignore the painful thuds in his chest as he laid down on the hard dusty concrete. He threaded his gloved fingers together on top of his ribs and chewed on his lower lip as he delved deeper into his chasm of worries.

Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind whistled through the entire cave, setting the overall temperature down to a bitter coldness. Robin flinched and tugged the edges of his cape around the exposed parts of his arms that weren’t covered by his uniform, struggling not to jerk at the bite that the cold offered.

He cautiously glanced over at Starfire, noticing that the fire was really brawling with the winds in order to stay alive. She had barely moved, as if not even noticing how chilly the air around them had become.

Robin inclined his head, trying to suppress the shivers that were wracking his body as he peered out of the small opening of the cave, only to see blustering dust particles so thick that he could no longer see the cliffs outside.

His breath came out shakily as he shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut beneath his mask, surprised at how quickly his body temperature had dropped. His teeth started to chatter as a deep iciness started creeping along his skin.

“Robin?” Starfire murmured, and he could partially hear her shuffling and turning back in his direction,

He kept his eyes closed, trying his best to block out the cold by pulling his cape even tighter around his body. All he could hear was the crackle of the fire and the billowing wind outside.

Suddenly, he felt a weight drop down beside him and his eyes snapped open, his head swivelling to see Starfire making herself comfortable beside him. She stared down at him with concern in her expression but he was baffled by how calm and unaffected she was by the blizzard frost in the air.

“H-How are you… able to deal with the cold?” He stammered, watching as she scooted closer, gently pushing him towards the fire to warm him back up.

“My people are most resilient, especially to low temperatures. You forget… I am from space.” She told him, a wry smile gracing her lips.

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“You are freezing, Robin. My body heat runs much higher than humans and I believe I can help.” She replied, laying down beside him and bringing her arms around his torso, rubbing her palms against his exposed areas of skin. 

The heat was practically instantaneous. Warmth spread across the planes of his skin like wildfire; everywhere she touched was ignited with fire and he momentarily wondered if she was adding her powers to it for maximum exposure.

Robin exhaled, his jaw aching from where it had been chattering uncontrollable merely 2 minutes beforehand. 

His shoulders dropped and he relaxed as the cold seeped away from him, thanks to the alien Princess who was effectively just holding him now.

“Robin? Are you okay?” She asked, beginning to pull away.

He grabbed onto her hands and pressed them against his chest again, with his back still facing her. 

“Don’t… I… it’s still really cold.” He admitted, feeling a blush slip across his cheeks.

“Okay.” 

They dipped into silence again as they laid there, with only the wind howling outside filling the space. Robin couldn’t deny that being this close to her was nice, especially since they hadn’t really been on great speaking terms since he messed up.

He could feel something building inside of him and decided that now would be the only other chance he had to try and explain himself to her and apologise for the confusion he had caused her.

“Hey… Star?” He murmured,

“Yes?” 

Robin turned over so that he was facing her, despite the blush that was likely still painted across his cheeks, “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

Starfire blinked but lowered her chin, her gaze dropping to the small patch of dirt between them, “Robin…”

“Really… I… I don’t know why I reacted like I did when Cyborg… said what he said.” Robin muttered, furrowing his brows as he recalled it in his mind, 

“I am not your girlfriend… I understand now what was meant.” She whispered, taking solace in just forgetting it,

“Star… I’m not the best at talking about feelings… I was never taught that and… I’m just not good at it.” He admitted,

“Robin… it is fine. Truly.”

“I wouldn’t mind it… you know.” He blurted, his face turning a crimson tone and he couldn’t look directly at her.

Starfire blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what he had just said to her, “What?”

“Having… a ‘friend who is a girl’ as you put it.” He elaborated, smiling slightly as he repeated her own words,

She softly smiled back, “Truly?��� 

“I… think I’d need to get used to the idea of it… but… yeah.” He paused and decided to go all the way considering he was already opening himself up considerably, “And… as for what I think about you… I think… it’s uh… awesome the way you shoot starbolts?” 

Starfire brightened at that and tilted her head, “Yes? And?”

“And uh… it’s also cool that you’re brave and the strongest girl ever.” 

“And… you do not mind having a friend who is a girl?” Starfire checked, visibly a lot more pleased with his communication,

Robin sat up and gently pulled her up with him and smiled back at her, opening his mouth to reply but was cut short by a loud rumbling from behind them.

As they spun to investigate the sound, the wall shook and crumbled, collapsing to reveal the screaming monster that had apparently followed them to this wasteland of a world.

The couple gasped and jumped up as the monster growled, stalking towards them before it opened its mouth and let out a long, ear piercing shriek, preparing to attack. 

[seductivejellyfish]

Musings

The first English translation of Homer’s Odyssey was completed in 1615, by classicist, dramatist, and poet George Chapman. He begins: 

The man, O Muse, inform, that many a way

Wound with his wisdom to his wished stay;

The first time I read the Odyssey was the summer before ninth grade. I had applied to a bougie private high school that I later chose not to attend, but as an acceptance gift they sent me a beautiful golden book, the Robert Fagles 1996 blank verse translation of the Odyssey. His first line: 

Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns

driven time and again off course, 

    At the time I had only the vaguest notion of the plot of the epic. I knew, or I thought I knew, that it was the story of Odysseus and his journey home, punctuated with an endless series of wild monsters and treacherous encounters. When I opened the book I was shocked to find that the Odyssey begins not with the adventure of the titular hero, but back home in Ithaca with his mopey abandoned son. My second shock came shortly after, when the goddess Athena descends to earth to inspire said mope, and does so in the form of Mentes, a man. 

    I reread the lines to make sure I hadn’t missed anything in the confusing clamor of ancient verse. Athena disguised as a man? Surely that couldn’t be right. But it was. Every single disguise of Athena, sans one, was a man. Not only that, there were multiple scenes where mortals recognize her for her true nature and yet still regard her in her guise. In those moments she existed as goddess and mortal, female and male simultaneously. It was almost too much to handle.

400 years after George Chapman, Emily Wilson became the first woman to translate the Odyssey into English. She hurled a book through a millenia’s glass ceiling and when it landed it opened to: 

Tell me about a complicated man.

Muse, tell me how he wandered and was lost.

At age 14 I wandered from a tiny private Jewish middle school into Boston Latin Academy and was promptly lost. Trapped in the practices of the past 300 odd years, every student was required to take 3-4 years of Latin. The first year was relentlessly boring. We bumbled our way through the textbook, memorizing endings and grammatical rules as though the language was a series of mathematical formulas and not something to be read and spoken and learned. 

In tenth grade I cut my hair. For years I had kept my waist-length hair in a thick side braid and in a day it was all gone. I can’t for the life of me remember what was it that made me do it, or when I got the idea. At some point I started telling people that I was thinking about it, and then I started telling people that I was going to do it, and then I did it. Anybody who has gone abruptly from long hair to short knows the miracle of the first shower: the giddy lightness that moves from your neck down through your whole body. 

We started reading real Latin in class and suddenly the language became alive. I wrestled with the text to produce a messy grammatical translation at the bottom of my page and then neatly rewrote a more pleasing version alongside the columns of poetry. I doodled all across the back of the pages--beautiful Greek men with flowing hair, columns and bays, Icarus, wings outspread, falling into the sea. Aphrodite descends to earth in disguise as a young huntress. I search between the pages for Athena. 

Near the city of Crete lived an unremarkable but blameless man and his unremarkable wife. So scared was he of the pain of raising a daughter that he delivered the ultimate warning to his wife: if their child should be born a girl, she must be killed. Only a boy should live. We all know the story--with the dropping of the ultimatum, the course of the tale is sealed. The mother will have a baby girl and she will be unable to destroy her. In this tale there are no babies in baskets, or foundlings left in the woods. Instead, instructed by a goddess, the mother conspires with a nurse to raise the child as a boy. The father names the child Iphis, after his father, and the mother is happy because the name suits a boy or girl and it removes part of the burden of the lie. The child grows up fine and beautiful, with all the best features of the male and female. Their disguise is unquestioned, and they grow up happy, sharing their childhood with a friend, Ianthe. We know this story too. Young love blossoms, and soon the two are engaged, to the delight of father and the despair of mother and child. 

I read this story properly for the first time, in Latin, in the summer of 2020, with the help of my Greek professor. At the beginning of our Greek class the year before we had each chosen Greek names. I was fascinated by the gender play in this story, and so I stole the name Ianthe from it. I am drawn much more to Iphis, of course, but I find the name Ianthe more lovely. And perhaps it is fitting that I embody that fascination with the choice of the name of the character so in love with Iphis, whatever gender they may be.

Burning with love and chafing at the equal ardor of Ianthe, Iphis cries out in despair to the gods. 

    “If the gods want to spare me, then they ought to spare me already! If not, if they wish to destroy me, then at least deal me some regular harm, according to the laws of nature! Never has love of mares consumed a mare, or of cows a cow: sheep love rams, and stags chase after does, the females of their own kind. Thus too birds couple, and amongst each and every type of animal, no woman is seized by feminine desire. I wish I were no woman!”

We reach this part of the poem and I am compelled to stop and reach through the text, to try in vain to comfort the grieving lover. You’re not broken at all, poor girl. You’re not alone.

    My professor asks me if I knew the story when I chose my name, and I tell her that I did. I am always aching to be recognized, to be seen, but at the same time I want to reassure her that this angst of Iphis’ which dominates the text is not a pain I have had to bear. Blessed by my circumstances, I have never once resented who I am. I have never been made to feel unnatural, and I have never felt alone. Again, perhaps it was right that I chose to become Ianthe, the unwitting and undisturbed bride who manages to never hear a thing about the anguish that surrounds her betrothal.

    The end of the story offers a neat resolution-the goddess hears Ianthe’s prayers and transforms her into a man. Light the marriage torches and sound the bells! I am torn in every direction. I don’t know what’s more important--the love of a woman for a woman, the ability for a character to straddle the line between gender, or the transformation from woman to man. Despite knowing that the social construct of gender in Roman times is far from the one I exist within, I can’t help wondering about Iphis after the curtains close. Are they happier as a man? Are they a man at all, or a woman in the body of a man? Was gender ever anything for them other than a weight around their neck, or a performance to play? I translate and translate and wonder what pronouns to use, reading the word woman again and again. 

Iphis leaves a gift in the temple, dedicated to the goddess with an inscription:

DONA: PVER: SOLVIT: QVAE: FEMINA: VOVERAT: IPHIS.

A boy pays this gift, which a woman had pledged, Iphis.

I take a spoken Latin class and think of using neuter endings for myself and then I don’t. I go from “she/her” to “she/they” to “any pronouns.”

O Muse, instruct me of the man who drew

His changeful course through wanderings not a few,

Trans. John William Mackail, 1903.

Athena comes to earth as Mentes. Aristophanes jests with his tale of the original third androgynous gender as pretty boys vie for spots on the ground next to Socrates. 

Tell me, O Muse, of the Shifty, the man who wandered afar.

Trans. William Morris, 1887.

The goddess commands that Iphis live as a baby girl until she can grow into a man. I bind my chest with medical tape and stick socks in my jeans and write my first original ancient Greek poem. 

Tell me the tale, Muse, of that man

Of many changes,

Trans. Herbert Bates, 1929. 

Telemachus strings up a line of women like caught bird for the crime of being sex slaves and translator Fagles kills them again when he calls them “sluts” and “whores” where the Greek says “sleeping.”��

This is the story of a man, one who

was never at a loss.

Trans. William Henry Denham Rouse, 1937

I’m letting my hair grow out again, in an undercut this time. Quarantine has seen me take at last to the clippers, shaving the sides and leaving the rest to grow. It’s long enough now to tuck behind my ears. I’ve spent my Saturdays chanting the Odyssey in a sing-song up and down my house and yard. I’ve memorized over 50 lines by now, but none as powerful as that eternal first. Someday I’ll translate it too. I imagine how appropriate it will be to have a little “trans.” before my name.

The first word of the Odyssey is Ἄνδρα, Andra-man. I take the man inside of me, right next to the woman and the thing which is neither, and I work on translating myself. 

[wrestlingisfake]

Raw Fake Rankings, 12/31/2020

Men’s heavyweight singles division - babyfaces

Drew McIntyre (WWE world champion)

Sheamus

Keith Lee

Ricochet

Men’s heavyweight singles division - heels

Randy Orton

Bobby Lashley (WWE United States champion)

AJ Styles

MVP

Elias

Mustafa Ali

Unranked: Akira Tozawa, Angel Garza, Drew Gulak, Humberto Carrillo, Jaxson Ryker, Mace, Slapjack, T-Bar

It feels like the real direction for the main event involves the intrigue between Drew McIntyre and Sheamus, with the Miz in the background with his Money in the Bank contract.  Sounds like a pretty solid plan to kick off the year 2011, with fresh young talent that...wait, I’m being handed a bulletin.  Tomorrow is 2021.

Seriously, though, the Sheamus storyline is at least novel, in that he never really turned babyface but--by virtue of his association with McIntyre--he’s all but ceased acting as a heel except to tease turning on Drew someday.  And they seem to be doing a better job than usual protecting a guy (Lashley) to set up a money match down the line.  (Although I’m not sure what that match is, since Lashley already challenged McIntyre and lost.)  And I suppose they have a plan for Randy Orton vs. Bray Wyatt, even if I don’t get it.

However, Raw has struggled to make new stars.  (McIntyre’s 2020 push has been a success, but I’d call that a do-over from when they dropped the ball on him in 2009-2013).  Keith Lee’s run on this brand has been a critical failure.  Elias is about 5% wrestler and 95% cheap heat skits, and now he’s got Ryker standing around helping him not wrestle much.  Ricochet and Ali’s Retribution stable are in a battle of losers.  The Hurt Business is getting over as a top heel group, but they have a median age of 45 and they’re running out of hot faces to fight.

What will make Raw interesting in 2021 is that the brand is truly painted into a corner.  The show hit record low rating multiple times in 2020, and tried a lot of quick-fix hot angles that went nowhere.  The big arrivals this year didn’t make much of an impact, and indeed they’ve eroded the fandom’s faith in “calling up someone from NXT for a big push on Raw.”  So what else can they try?  We’ll soon find out.

Men’s tag team division - babyfaces

The Hardy Bros - Jeff Hardy & Matt Riddle

The New Day - Kofi Kingston & Xavier Woods

Lucha House Party - Gran Metalik & Lince Dorado

Men’s tag team division - heels

Cedric Alexander & Shelton Benjamin (Raw tag team champions)

The Miz (Mr. Money in the Bank) & John Morrison

I’m not even totally sure Riddle and Hardy are a long-term team, but I guess WWE has already trademarked “Hardy Bros” so for now they believe they’re sticking with that.  Lucha House Party showed up on the December 30 NXT to feud with Legado del Fantasma, which sure sounds like they’re leaving Raw for good, but we’ll have to wait and see.

Women’s singles division - babyfaces

Nikki Cross

Women’s singles division - heels

Reckoning

Raw’s women’s division is currently revolving around the tag title, so the singles division amounts to the women who don’t have tag partners right now.  Incidentally, I’m very surprised that the Alexa Bliss-Nikki Cross split ended without either of them really turning heel.

Women’s tag team division - babyfaces

Asuka (Raw women’s champion) & Charlotte Flair (WWE women’s tag team champions)

Dana Brooke & Mandy Rose

Women’s tag team division - heels

Nia Jax & Shayna Baszler

Lacey Evans & Peyton Royce

Jax and Baszler were kinda thrown together as a monster super-team a while back, which then led to them picking on Lana, which then led to Asuka offering to help Lana go after the tag title, which somehow led to Asuka and Flair as the tag champions.  Meanwhile, WWE went to all the trouble of repackaging Rose and Royce as solo acts just to turn around and put them in new teams for lack of any other ideas. 

I suppose you could build up the tag division from these four makeshift teams, but I don’t expect they will.  It’s all just in service to Asuka and Flair inevitably feuding over the singles title.  Once that gets going, I would imagine Asuka and Flair will do a “lose the tag title through miscommunication” thing and the belts will go to Evans and Royce, and get lost in the shuffle just like every time Royce and Billie Kay got the belts.

No matches in 30 days: Alexa Bliss, Dabba-Kato, Erik, Omos, R-Truth (WWE 24/7 champion), Titus O’Neil, Tucker

Dabba-Kato has yet to wrestle an actual match on Raw, and hasn’t been seen since Raw Underground was shelved.  Omos also hasn’t had a match yet, and technically isn’t even listed on WWE’s official roster.  I’m not sure what the in-ring future is for Bliss--her association with Bray Wyatt is money, but I don’t foresee it leading to a lot of women’s matches.

I’m starting to wonder if WWE has actually lost interest in the 24/7 title, given that nobody seems to have chased R-Truth around for it in a while.  It’s one of those things that can keep running on autopilot, well after they stop putting in actual effort--not unlike the original WWE hardcore title that inspired it--but now they don’t even seem to be doing that.

Part-time/semi-retired: Shane McMahon, The Big Show, Triple H

Shane was brought back in 2020 as the spokesperson for Raw Underground, so when that idea got canned, he disappeared as well.  So it’s really hard to imagine how he could return, since his primary value to WWE is to make an unexpected return to hype some new hotshot idea, and they literally just tried and failed to do that.  And it wouldn’t make much since for him to “invade” with a hotshot new faction, considering they still haven’t wound down Retribution.

Inactive

Andrade (elective surgery)

Becky Lynch (maternity leave)

Braun Strowman (storyline - indefinite suspension)

Bray Wyatt (storyline - burnt to a crisp)

Edge (right arm - triceps tear)

Ivar (neck - cervical vertebrae injury)

Jinder Mahal (right knee - unspecified injury)

Lana (storyline - head and left knee injuries)

Mickie James (nose - collapsed nasal cavity)

Naomi (abdomen - myomectomy)

Riddick Moss (knee - ACL tear)

Samoa Joe (concussion)

It was never entirely clear why Strowman was taken off TV, but I would assume he’ll back in time for the Royal Rumble, unless he’s dealing with an injury.  Similarly, I’m sure Wyatt will be back by the end of January, having magically recovered from being immolated by Randy Orton.  It’s interesting, though, that Wyatt and Orton will be settling their differences right around the time Edge is expected to return to renew his rivalry with Orton.  Is it possible Orton could go 2-0 with Wyatt to build him up for Edge?  And if so, how does Orton finish off Wyatt in a way that can top burning him alive?

Lana should be available to return whenever WWE needs, but it’s tough to gauge whether they’re waiting for the right moment in her story with Nia Jax, or if they’ve given up on all that and will leave her on the bench until they think of some totally new gimmick for her.

For the record, Andrade and James were in the 2020 draft pool but never picked, so technically they can show up on any brand once they return to action.  Lynch, Edge, Ivar, Mahal, and Joe weren’t even included in the draft pool, but I think that had more to do with their lengthy time away than anything else.  Regardless, I wouldn’t count on any of these performers leaving Raw anytime soon.

[tatooines-ghosts]

HAPPY 2020s ENDING Y’ALL!!!

Enjoy a little blog-exclusive Shades AU that I affectionately refer to as the No Jedi Allowed AU, feat. everybody’s favorite prequel-era Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Sometime this last summer, while trying to work past writer’s block, I toyed with a little AU idea for funsies, I made a post about it, said I wasn’t going to do anything else with it, and left it at that. Until a month or two ago when, still in the throes of writer’s block, I took that little AU idea and figured “fuck it, I’m not working on the next chapter, but at least it’s writing SOMETHING Shades related” and made a real thing out of it.

This is Part 1. Future parts will come out at some point in the future, I’m thinking about making these a holiday special or something haven’t decided yet. (And really it’s only blog-exclusive because I cannot make a series on AO3 and remain anonymous so...)

Enough rambling. Please read, I hope you all enjoy this look at how things might have gone a little differently if a couple Jedi didn’t end up going all the way out to Tatooine to stick their noses into Hutt business.

Please assume content warnings given on AO3 may apply to this story as well. Also, beware spoilers if you are not fully caught up on the main story.

No Jedi Allowed AU - Part 1

Jango Fett heaved a long sigh as the door closed behind him. He had just finished up a long job for Jabba, one that should have been quick but ended up requiring well over a week of stake outs and reconnaissance, but in the end he got his man, as he always did. Jabba had at least expressed his gratitude suitably, in money and amenities. He had given Jango one of the better guest suites and was probably going to send up one of his better girls for a night of entertainment.

Jango began shedding his armor, considering what he would do with the slave girl. He really didn't have the energy to draw anything out. He hoped it wasn't going to be a new girl, explaining how things work was more effort than he cared to expend. Really he just wanted a shower and to sleep, but he wasn't about to leave his stuff unattended with a stranger on the way.

There was a light rap on the door.

"Enter."

The slave entered pushing a dinner cart. Jango breathed a sigh of relief. "Skywalker, nice to see you again."

She flashed him a small smile. "Been a while, hasn't it, Jango?" She paused just over the threshold and let the door lock behind her. "The usual tonight?"

"Sure." He finished removing his armor and set it aside carefully aside. "Get yourself ready, I'm hitting the shower first."

He stepped into the 'fresher, leaving Skywalker alone. Ten minutes later, he was stepping back out, with the provided robe draped around him. His clothes were a little rank, and the quick rinse he gave them in the shower wasn't enough to really clean them. They'd get a proper wash when he got home.

Skywalker had set up dinner, laying out the food and drink from the cart on the little dining table for him. She was perched at the holotable, flipping through the selection of games. There weren’t many games, as most visitors to a Hutt pleasure den were usually otherwise occupied in their rooms, or wanted to watch porn.

"How's dejarik sound? I'm not feeling anything particularly strenuous tonight."

"Fine." Jango sat down in the free seat. He grabbed the complimentary bottle of liquor and poured himself a healthy glass. He offered Skywalker a drink, but she declined. She did pick at the fruit he offered to share. There was always more food than he could eat, and he knew the slaves didn’t get fed nearly as well as guests.

She made the first move on the dejarik board. "How's Boba?"

They fell into comfortable conversation about Boba, about Skywalker's sister, about the recently finished racing season – Jango congratulated Skywalker on another victorious season. They played a few lackluster games of dejarik. That was a bit unusual, Skywalker was a worthy opponent, and she didn’t usually lose more than once or twice.

He beat her soundly for the fourth time in a row, the board resent, his turn to make the first move, but instead he checked the time. "I think I'm going to turn in. It's late enough."

"Yeah," she agreed distractedly. She fiddled with the edge of the gauzy white shawl wrapped around her. She looked pale, uneasy.

Jango gave her another critical, searching look. Her behavior was odd enough, was she supposed to be spying on him? Bribe him, coerce him, assassinate him? He knew Jabba wasn’t opposed to taking out a troublesome being with some poison served by a pretty face, but Jango hadn’t done anything to offend his second-best employer recently. The Hutt had no reason to want him dead, or otherwise intimidated.

Maybe Skywalker was just having an off day, or dealing with some other problem. He wasn’t going to ask. Wasn’t his business.

Her outfit tonight was white and copper, paper-thin linen wrapped in layers to be made suitably opaque, with copper metal accents to draw the eye and match the heavy collar around her neck. It was one of her softer, looser costumes. Aside from looking pale and anxious, Skywalker looked pretty good, a little softer, better fed. Jabba kept his slaves starved and stick thin, save for a few exceptions for the fetishists. This was a change, but not a poor one. Maybe Skywalker was being treated better after another successful racing season.

He turned off the holotable and stood up to stretch. The bed was looking very comfortable, and he wanted to get out of here early tomorrow morning.

Skywalker didn't move. "Jango, I need your help."

He fell still. This was a first, she had never asked for his help before. He'd taught her a few tricks to defend herself against handsy patrons who hadn't paid for the privilege to touch her. Maybe someone was a little more aggressive than she could handle. But Jabba had enforcers on staff whose job it was to take care of people like that. There wasn't anything else he could do for her. She had nothing to ask him to smuggle of planet, and there probably wasn't anything she knew of that he could bring to her. Which meant she was about to ask him to do something very stupid and probably impossible.

"What is it?"

She turned her wide blue eyes to him, her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and she worried it as she considered her next words. He could read her indecision clear in her face. His heart sank. If she was so afraid to even say the words, it couldn't be anything good.

"I need you to free me and my sister."

Jango actually laughed, a single, dry bark. "You're joking." She wasn't. "You want me to steal you from the Hutts? Never gonna happen. Jabba would kill us both for just considering it."

She didn't seem particularly disappointed with his rejection. She implored, "Please, Jango, you're our only hope for freedom."

"No. No way." Even if he wanted to, Jango wouldn't risk earning Jabba's ire, no matter how much he liked Skywalker.

Yes, he felt sorry for Skywalker and her little sister. Being born slaves was unfortunate, but it was their rotten luck that they ended up being owned by Jabba the Hutt. If anyone touched Jabba's property, or thought they could steal from him, they were dead already. Jango had been hired several times to bring in a bounty on someone who had done exactly that. He was not going to put himself on Jabba's shit list.

"I'm pregnant!" she blurted out. "Please, Jango, I can't let my baby be born a slave too." She shifted her arms, removing the shawl from around her waist, and there was the unmistakable roundness to her belly. "I don't even know if Jabba will let me keep my baby."

Jango sighed heavily. "He let you keep your sister."

"Because I didn't give birth to her, because he needed leverage over me after my mom died." She drew a shaking breath; he could see tears gathering in her frightened eyes. "He hasn't even made up his mind on whether he'll let me have the baby. Any day now he could take them from me if it stops me from being able to serve. He'll cut the baby out of me, he'll kill them. And if I do get to have them, then what? He'll steal them from my arms, or just use them like he uses Shila. Please, Jango, I can't go on like this. I want my baby to live. I want to raise them. I want Shila to grow up and know what freedom is."

Jango didn't move, didn't speak, his eyes stayed on Skywalker. His brain was already picking at the idea; it wouldn't be too difficult to – no! He was not about to ruin his career and risk his life for a pregnant slave girl, it's not like the baby was his. What stake did he have at all in Skywalker's future? None! If he tried helping her and they got caught, Boba would be left fatherless. The boy might never know what became of his father. But Anakin... she was the victim of her circumstances. Her little sister and her unborn baby were innocent of the whole matter. They were just slaves.

It wasn't like Jango was opposed to slavery, it was a lucrative evil for the dark corners of the galaxy, and it kept him paid, fed, and employed. He was a mercenary; he wasn't a saint, or even really a good person. Killing was never personal, it was for the job, but he still had a code of honor. And abandoning Skywalker after she asked for his help, after she had exposed herself to be in such a vulnerable position… that was breaking his code.

Would he be able to live with himself if he left her here to her fate? If Jabba stole her child, would he ever be able to look her in the eye again? And Boba... was this the kind of example he wanted to set for his son? Disregarding the lives of children and babies because he didn’t want to risk his own neck. Shameful. Dishonorable. No true Mandalorian would sacrifice a child’s life for their own comfort.

"Ossik," Jango hissed under his breath, dropping back into his seat. "Okay. Fine. I'll get you out of here."

X

Freeing Skywalker and her little sister was easier than Jango suspected it would have been. Granted it was easy for him to go where he needed in the palace, and nobody looked at him twice. He met Shila Skywalker, the little ad'ika he had heard so much about from her older sister. It was clear they were family, they shared the same face, but where Anakin was fair haired and blue-eyed, Shila was dark haired and brown-eyed. Reportedly she looked like their mother, Shmi, but Jango had never met the woman. Shila was young, only three years old, and she was quiet and shy, and frightened of Jango; a fact that was not helped at all when Jango had to cut the slave chip out of the child's stomach. It was just beneath the skin, and he didn't have to cut deep, so he was able to be very quick about it, but it still had to be done without pain killers.

It hadn’t been pleasant or fun for any involved. Skywalker had to hold the child down, keeping her hand pressed over Shila’s mouth to muffle the screams. But Jango had been the one with the knife. It would probably be some time before the child trusted him.

She flinched away from him with a whimper, hiding her face in her sister’s shoulder when he offered his hand after it and apologized. “Sorry, ad’ika, but you were very brave.”

The elder Skywalker, on the other hand, hardly made a sound when Jango carved out her chip from her shoulder.

With the girls freshly unchipped, Jango smuggled them unseen into his ship and stowed them in a hidden compartment in his cargo hold. It was specially lined to block life signs from most scanners, and certainly anything Jabba had his hands on out here. He left at dawn, nobody looked twice as he had made several comments before about leaving early, and he had never made a habit of staying very long in Jabba's palace in the first place.

Only when he was safely in hyperspace and clear from any Hutt influence did he release his cargo from the hold. Shila had been soothed to sleep by her sister, but Anakin was fully alert and terrified.

"Thank you for doing this," she said gratefully. "Jango, I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you. You saved our lives."

"Don't thank me yet. Just because I got you out of there doesn't mean you're safe. Jabba's not going to like losing you."

"I know." Her hand moved behind Shila, rested against her belly. "But you've given us a chance."

A few hours later there was a small explosion at Jabba's palace. Nobody was injured, and the damage was minimal, but it threw everyone and everything into hysterics. In the chaos, it took time for someone to take count of the slaves, and then they noticed two very valuable slaves were missing. Search parties uncovered the hastily buried tracker chips, coated in dried blood and sand. Jabba's wrath was terrible and he turned the planet of Tatooine upside down looking for Anakin Skywalker.

X

Jango landed Slave I on the storm tossed landing pad, rain drummed against the hull. It was midday, though the rainclouds were so thick it might as well have been midnight. He dropped from the cockpit down to the passenger hold, where Skywalker sat with her sister.

Anakin, he supposed he should get used to calling her by her first name. They were aliit now. Whether she knew it or not, when Anakin had thrown her lot in with him to gain her freedom, Jango had brought her into his tiny clan. There really was no way to get around it. Releasing the Skywalkers into the galaxy to fend for themselves was as good as putting a blaster bolt in the back of their skulls. Jabba would have them back and dead, or worse, by week’s end. There was safety, at least, in a clan, security under the Fett name; even if the clan had doubled it in size overnight.

Shila was sleeping soundly, curled in her sister's arms and lap, but Anakin was alert and worried.

"What's that noise? An attack?"

The rain was so familiar to Jango, he tuned it out automatically. "What? No, that's the rain. Water falling from the sky," he had to clarify. He realized rain probably wasn't a word that ever got thrown around on Tatooine.

Anakin glowered at him. "I know what rain is. My mother told me." Her cheeks went pink. "I just didn't realize it made much noise."

Jango gave her some credit. "It is coming down rather hard out there. Come on. We'll get you inside and into more suitable clothes."

Kamino was cold, and the cloner's kept their facility chilly. Anakin's service costume was not going to cut it. He opened the cargo ramp, a blast of cold, wet air swept in.

He heard a gasp and a yelp behind him, Shila had woken up. Anakin tried to comfort the child in Huttese, but Jango could see her own eyes were wide with fear. This much rain and water had to be a shock. But Jango was hungry, tired, and ready to change into something more comfortable. He didn't want to stand here until the desert natives got used to rain.

"Come on," he said again, taking Anakin by the arm and pulling her forward. They walked quickly from ship to facility door, Jango keeping his grip firm so Anakin didn't slip and fall on the wet walkway, her shoes were less suitable for the slick metal than her clothes were for the climate. By the time they stepped inside, Anakin was shivering. Whether from the cold and wet, or everything else, he wasn't sure but thirty seconds in the downpour had turned her costume downright indecent. The flowy white linen had turned translucent and plastered against her body. It made the curve of her belly even more obvious.

It was a good thing Skywalker was so distracted looking around at everything else to not notice him staring and frowning at her. Well, more accurately, staring at her abdomen. A seed of doubt quickly settled and bloomed in his mind – not the first to grow since he agreed to free the Skywalkers, and he squashed it like the others. Having a baby around soon was going to make things interesting.

He sighed softly and shook his head. That little bastard was going to cause him a lot of trouble, he knew it already. After all, it had been the baby that tipped him over to helping the Skywalkers in the first place and inevitably put him on Jabba’s shit list.

How long would it be until Jabba put a bounty on his head? He couldn't possibly be so lucky as to escape without suspicion.

Jango stepped off down the hall, wondering whether the Skywalkers should be seen by a doctor first or if he should just take them home. When the ad'ika began to complain of the cold and the wet, he bypassed the corridor turn that would lead to the medical wing.

Their apartment had that mild, unlived in scent when he stepped in. Boba would have been left with his Kaminoan caretakers while Jango had been gone for a few weeks.

"Come on. We'll get you dried and change clothes before getting you to a doctor."

"Doctor?"

Jango stepped into the 'fresher and dug out some clean towels. He buried his derisive snort in the linen closet. "I doubt Jabba wasted any expenses on having you checked out, didn't he?"

"No, he didn't." Anakin folded her hands over her belly. "I thought for the longest time it might be dead inside me, but I've started to feel them move."

Jango handed her two towels. "How far along are you?"

"Almost six months."

Anakin bent to wrap Shila in the fluffy towel so she didn't see Jango frown at her. He was no expert, but he was almost certain most women were bigger by the time they were five or six months pregnant. Sure, she looked pregnant, but only barely.

"You sure about that?"

Anakin stilled, but nodded, her voice was low and confident. "Yes. I know exactly when it happened."

Jango wasn't going to press the issue. The Kaminoans could figure out the nitty gritty biological details. He moved to the bedrooms, "I'll find you some dry clothes. Won't fit all that well, but they'll be warmer and more suitable than that costume." He pulled a shirt and a pair of pants with a soft, drawstring waistband from his closet. The Kaminoans would have no trouble fabricating something more suitable for Anakin and Shila to wear, but this would do short-term. The little girl's clothes were the basic pants and tunic of Tatooine, but Anakin's costume would be entirely unsuitable for Kamino's climate, not to mention just daily life.

Jango grabbed a shirt from Boba’s room for Shila. It was big enough to be a dress on the child, and the sleeves fell past her hands, but it was workable with a few adjustments. Anakin's clothes were just as ill-fitting, but she didn't complain. She just had to pull the drawstring tight to keep her pants secure around her waist.

"It's only temporary," Jango assured her as she tugged at the oversized shirt. "We'll get you some better fitting clothes ‘fabbed once the Kaminoans get their measurements."

"It's fine," Anakin said quietly, fingering the shirt fabric, it was probably sturdier than anything she'd worn in a long time. Jango's clothes were made for warmth and wear. "This will do."

Jango took them back from the apartment and into the cloning complex, through the cold white hallways to the medical facility. It wasn't empty, it never was. With how many clones the Kaminoans spat out, the medical facilities were always busy; someone was always hurt or sick or injured, or having their genetic aberrations evaluated for viability. But the entrance from Jango's side of the facility kept him separated from the main body. He had mentioned the cloners to Anakin before, but he wasn't sure how much she had picked up on though. It had been a passing conversation as he taught her how to play sabbac. He felt like explaining it in whole might be a bit much for the newly-freed slave.

His side of the medical facility was a little clinic set aside from the main body of the medical wing. It was just one room; the medical bed dominated one side, while cabinets of medication and supplies lined the other walls. There were two doors, one they came through and another that went into the larger facility.

Jango flipped a switch on the panel by the facility door, it would summon a doctor. It must have been a slow day because a Kaminoan stepped into the room a few moments later, one of the doctors. Her big eyes scanned over Anakin and Shila before turning to Jango.

"What can I do for you today, Jango?"

"Doctor Wey Luma, this is Anakin and Shila Skywalker, new additions to my aliit. They both had subdermal chips removed that need patching up, and health checks, and Anakin's pregnant."

Kaminoans weren't nearly as expressive as humans, but Jango could see the excitement in Wey Luma's face. The doctors working with the clones were human specialists, but it wasn't like they came across any pregnant ones in this facility. She would probably become a scientific celebrity just on the fact that she got knocked up. He hoped Anakin wouldn't mind the scientists pawing at her. Probably not, she had enough practice with drunk Hutt patrons, and the Kaminoans wouldn't want to fuck her.

He turned to the Skywalkers, "Wey Luma will take care of you. I need to make some arrangements for your stay here."

"Okay." Anakin nodded and set her sister on the bed at the doctor's encouragement. Jango left the room and pulled up his comm.

He made a call to Taun We to arrange for a bigger apartment, they would need more space with Anakin, Shila, and a baby on the way. Plus supplies and clothing for the new additions.

And it was time to get Boba back from his caretakers and introduce his son to his new aliit. By the time he stepped back into the exam room, Anakin was perched on the medical bed, and Wey Luma was practically buzzing with excitement.

"Such hybridizations are almost unheard of," the doctor trilled. "You could provide us with priceless data."

Anakin looked nervous. She chewed on her lower lip while her hands rested over her little belly. "Would that mean you'll make sure the baby is healthy?"

The Kaminoan paused, confused. Jango stepped in quickly. "They'll take care of you and the baby regardless of whether you agree to let them study you."

"Oh, yes, of course," Wey Luma insisted quickly. "We would not withhold medical treatment. But… you would just do us an enormous favor if we were able to study you and your child."

"What's so special about it anyway?" Jango asked before Anakin had to agree to anything.

"He's half-pantoran. Humans and pantorans typically do not mix genetically."

Jango grunted in understanding. He understood only the most basics of genetics, and he imagined Anakin understood even less. "She'll think about it."

There was nothing else they needed from the doctor, so Jango took them back home.

Taun We was waiting with Boba and a small crate of supplies, the new clothes. Kaminoans were nothing if not efficient; the clothing fabricators must have gotten Anakin's measurements from the medical scans.

There wasn’t time for more than the quickest introductions, as their apartment had to be packed up and everything moved into bigger quarters. A squad of droids expedited the process, and after only a couple hours, they were fully moved into a new apartment.

Taun We and the droids left the newly expanded Fett clan alone to get properly acquainted.

“Boba,” Jango put a hand on his son’s shoulder, pushing him forward ever so slightly. “This is Anakin and her sister Shila Skywalker.”

Boba’s dark eyes traced over the Skywalkers. Confusion curled in his head, father had never brought home anyone before, much less a woman and child. He’d met a few of his father’s more trustworthy associates before, but Anakin didn’t look like a bounty hunter or well… much of anything. What was it about them that had prompted such a sudden uprooting? Why were they now living together?

He’d heard Jango and Anakin muttering about a baby earlier during the move. Was that why? Was she his father’s… girlfriend? Was Shila his half-sister? A natural born Fett heir?

Jango’s grip tightened on Boba’s shoulder and he quickly remembered his manners. “Hello.” He nodded quickly to Anakin and Shila, and then turned to his father for further explanation.

“Anakin and Shila are alit now. I expect you to treat them as such.”

Aliit? Them? That word meant something in Mando’a, Jango wouldn’t throw it around casually. But he knew his father’s adopted clan lines, he knew the branches and offshoots, and distant relations belonging to the family that had taken his father in as a boy. Skywalker was not one of those family names.

“Where did they come from?”

“Tatooine.”

That illuminated very little for Boba, but he could hear the mildly dismissive tone in his father’s words. Now was not the time for more questions.

Jango pushed Boba forward a little more. “Anakin and I need to talk. Can you keep Shila entertained?”

“Oh, okay.” Boba craned his neck a little to peek behind Anakin’s legs, where Shila was hiding. “Shila?” The child buried her face in the back of Anakin’s thighs.

Anakin smiled slightly and scooped her hand behind the child’s head and pushed her forward towards Boba. She said in gentle Huttese, “Go on, Shila, go with Boba.”

Shila stumbled forward, gripping tightly to Anakin’s sleeve. Her eyes were wide and frightened, and Boba didn’t miss the way she flinched away from Jango.

“Introduce yourself.” Anakin prompted.

Shila stuttered out in Huttese a quiet little, “H-hello.”

Boba looked back to his father once again, asking silently if Shila only spoke Huttese. His father nodded curtly, yes.

No worry there, Boba was near fluent in Huttese, so he smiled at the little girl and said back to her, “Hello Shila, I’m Boba.”

Her eyes lit up when she finally understood his words. Boba offered his hand and the child took it. He led her off down the hallway to her new bedroom, right across the hall from Boba’s.

“Let’s see what kind of toys we can find.”

Boba thought he was getting a little too old for toys, but the move had unearthed a lot of old stuff he had nearly forgotten about. He pulled the box down and set it on the floor for Shila to explore while he moved to the open door and tried to listen to whatever his father and Anakin were discussing, but they were speaking too quietly for him to overhear. Jango was clattering around the kitchen, preparing their evening meal, but also making enough noise to purposefully discourage eavesdropping.

Annoyed and disappointed, Boba turned back to Shila. She had tipped most of the boxes contents out onto the floor and had promptly ignored all of them for the plush Aiwha that was almost as big as she was. It must have been a gift or something, though Boba had never particularly cared for the stuffed animal; or many plus toys in general. Shila seemed to like it, though, so he held no qualms bestowing it upon her. Shila was so delighted and excited over the gift, she even dragged it out to the kitchen when they were called for dinner to show Anakin what Boba had given her.

Shila was all set to sit the Aiwha at the table with them for dinner, but Anakin had her put it back in her room. Jango wouldn’t have cared either way – it wouldn’t have been the first time a toddler would have insisted that a favorite toy had to be a dinner guest – but Anakin was still trying to figure out her place in this whole affair, so he wasn’t about to step in a parent her baby sister. Not yet at least.

Shila was still very much frightened of him, even without his armor and the knife, it would be some times before she warmed up to him. Probably when the pain and scar from her tracker faded. Having everyone around her able to speak the same language helped, but Jango knew the child couldn’t only know Huttese for forever. Galactic Basic was a must, as was Mando’a, and Kaminoan would be useful too. He had no doubt Shila would pick up new languages quickly, children that young learned fast. Anakin on the other hand needed to start Mando’a lessons as quickly as possible, picking up the language would be harder for her, but it was something she had to know.

Nobody in his aliit would not be fluent in Mando'a.

"You keep using that word," Anakin observed over dinner. "'A-leet' what does it mean?"

"Aliit means family, of the same clan."

She frowned at him, her brow furrowing in suspicion. "But we're not-"

"You are newly freed slaves. You have no clan or family. You're foundlings and I have taken you in, so now you are part of my aliit. The galaxy is safer for you this way, you have protection."

Anakin stared at him, caught between gratitude and suspicion. “Does this mean we will have to change our names?”

For practical reasons, it would be safer for Anakin and Shila to adopt new surnames; it reduced the chance people would recognize her by name. But he understood the importance and attachment beings could have to family names. If he told her she had to change, she would probably do so without complaint, but that might make her resent the name, resent him and this gift of freedom he was giving her. Then again, this wasn’t something he felt was within his power to decide for her. “Not if you don’t want to.”

Anakin nodded slowly, considering something else. “Does that mean we’re trapped here?”

Trapped wasn’t the word that Jango would have chosen, but he knew where she was coming from. What was the point of being free if you had nowhere to go except back to slavery? With no home, no family, no resources, or friends to turn to Kamino could feel like a trap.

“For now,” he said reassuringly, “You are safe here, and hidden. Kamino is not widely known to the galaxy, nor will the Hutts think to search for you here. And there’s no chance of anyone seeing you and turning you back over to him. If you find staying here to be truly interminable, I can make other arrangements for you, but it will take time.”

Most of the suspicion left Anakin, though Jango could still read a little unease in her. Freedom would take time to adjust to, and it had been less than a day. Her eyes skimmed over him and to the dark, rain-lashed windows that made up a wall of their living area. She managed an uneasy smile and said lightly, “Well, it is very different from Tatooine.”