#I’ve been so ridiculously burnt out all summer it’s outrageous

[charbies]

so I’m a therapist and I started getting major sleep paralysis for the first time in my life when I started my current high-stress + high-burnout job in the addiction field. I’ve been dealing with it consistently for almost a year at this point.

I’m thinking about my past & present selves on tumblr and how 14 year old me probably would have been so curious and thought sleep paralysis was so ✨quirky✨ and would make me so ✨interesting✨

meanwhile 24 year old me is tired as shit and it’s NOT FUN the cruel irony is that being a mentally ill manic pixie dream girl is EXHAUSTING and a SCAM

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (kmart’s haunted)

Summary: (part 1) Reader has joined Douxie on the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company. (part 2) - Missouri 1     (part 3)

Warnings: swearing, very light spooky?

Word Count: 2245

A/N: so we’ve established that Doux wasn’t the one who burnt the bookstore, but they don’t know that. look, have you been in a Kmart recently? its apocalyptic. also, you know that post about people repeating their default work greetings by accident? yeah

“Do you want me to split the bill or?” The waitress asked, not sure if the group at the table was a young couple and their child or just three college kids hanging out. It was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, that one kid was so small, wearing a little deer costume, and had been helped to order. The other two radiated the energy of an old married couple and talked mainly to each other. But on the other hand, college kids are just like that sometimes.

“Nah, I got it.”

“What? No. I’m paying for us.” Douxie insisted.

“I have the cash, Doux.” (Name) turned to the waitress. She put some honey in her voice. “Just bring us one bill, please.” The waitress nodded nervously before heading off.

“No. I don’t want you paying for too many things while we’re traveling. You’re unemployed.”

“And who’s fault is that Mr. Mephits-Are-Vulnerable-To-Fire? You fucking burned down the store and put us both out of work here.” Nari was squirming at the negative vibes going on. It helped that she didn’t exactly understand what was going on.

“It was magic fire!” Douxie interjected in outrage. He looked so cute when he got defensive.

“Yeah, okay, sure.” (Name) shook her head, looking up to the ceiling. She let out a huff, “look, I invited myself onto this trip, Douxie. I want to pull my own weight. You’re going to have to let me pay for something eventually.”

“We’ll see about that, Love,” he said as he grabbed the ticket from the waitress’s hands as quick as lightning, tucked his card in and gave it right back before (Name) could further protest.

“Ugh! FINE! Then I’m getting the tip.” She pulled out a tenner and slapped it onto the table. She glared right back into Douxie’s hazel eyes. He glared right back into hers with a matched intensity. Nari looked back and forth between the two and whimpered. (Name) broke the standoff to assure Nari that they weren’t actually angry at each other so she shouldn’t be worried. That seemed to ease the forest child a bit but not by too much. She could still feel the weird aura they were putting off.

“Okay! So here’s your check back and here’s that lox bagel you ordered to go.” The waitress handed (Name) a doggy bag.

(Name) took the bag gingerly. A big fake smile spread across her face as she was momentarily possessed by that good spirit of customer service. “Thank you! I hope your experience was spellbinding! Have a magical day!” (Name) said on autopilot in that high-pitched voice and winked exaggeratedly. It was like she was an NPC and her talk button had been accidentally pushed. The waitress laughed forcibly and scurried away to the kitchen. Douxie cracked up.

“You do know that when I told you to say all that stuff after ringing people up, I was hazing you, right?”

“Oh yes, I am completely aware, Doux. Did you think I’d not pick up on how ridiculous that sounds? But I still say it to spite you.”

He shook his head. “Of course.”

***

Archie scarfed down his bagel sandwich with almost disturbing speed. It was like watching the void consume, well, a bagel sandwich. It just disappeared. Down his furry maw and out of existence. Being a dragon works up an appetite, after all. (Name) was a bit baffled and asked him if she should go get him another bagel. He assured her that the one was just fine and said something about trying to catch some birds later. She leaned back on her elbows against the boat’s railing, trying and failing to not think about the details of that.

Douxie cleared his throat. “So,” He folded his hands together for emphasis, “Since the subject of money came up earlier, I think we should also discuss the topic of our accommodations.”

“Well, you two obviously cannot afford lodging every night.” Archie snarked, flicking his tail.

“Thank you, for that, Arch. No, I was thinking more along the lines of a tent.”

“A tent?” the cat asked incredulously.

“Oh, that could work.” (Name) pointed at Douxie animatedly, “keep us close to nature for Nari. And also could keep our possible property damage bills down. Good idea, Doux.”

“Thank you,” Douxie puffed up, “see Arch? Someone appreciates my ideas-”

“Wait. That’ll be a short-term solution. We’re just barely into September. It’s going to be much, much colder in about a month. By October it’ll be too cold to bear. Even if we all huddle together like penguins.”

Doux looked away to hide his blush at the suggestion. “That is a problem. Okay, um-”

“Maybe we could just cross that bridge when we get there? Who knows what could happen between now and then. We could find so temp work in a little town somewhere.” (Name) shrugged, smirking at Doux. She didn’t want to admit that ‘we could be dead by then’ was also definitely a possibility on the table, so she tried to further distract from that thought. “Maybe we’ll find a creepy abandoned cabin in the woods we can squat in. Maybe some nice trolls will take us in as novelty pets. Maybe my rich Aunty Josie could just suddenly die under some ‘mysterious circumstances’ and leave her lavish fortune to her beloved niece,” she smirked at Doux, “I dunno, just spit ballin’ here.”

“I’m electing to ignore that you just suggested we ice your aunt because you were onto something there.”

“I was?” Her tone was a mixture of sarcasm and disbelief.

“Yes! New Jersey!

“New Jersey?” The wheels turned. “Oh! New Jersey!”

Nari looked confused. “What is special about this ‘New Jersey’?” she asked

Both Douxie and (Name) turned to her, “Trolls.” They said in sync.

***

(Name) stood there with her hands in her pockets. Somehow this Kmart was still standing, out here in The-Middle-Of-Fucking-Nowhere, Missouri. She was standing here, in a Kmart. It might as well have been 1986. There was barely anything on the shelves. Half the shelves themselves were missing. The floor had a layer of grime to it, in spite of the wet floor sign along with the shiny patches that said that it had clearly been mopped recently. The air smelled like something (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nostalgic. A strange scent that took her back to her childhood. Or at least she thought it was her childhood. It had to have been. Taking deep breaths, she couldn’t quite get enough of it.

Continuing that vibe, a muzak 80’s tune played over the speakers. Funny enough, despite (Name)’s brain seeming to recognize that it was playing a song from the 80’s, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it as to which. Every time she thought she’d figured it out, she’d hear a few notes that would somehow change her mind. It was a pop song at least, to narrow it down. It’d been going on for about six minutes now. Must be one of those extended tracks.

She’d ask Douxie what he thought the song was. She turned her attention to him and noticed he was still just staring at that same shelf like he had been for, what, ten minutes now? Even though this fucking Kmart barely had any shelving in it, by some miracle it not only had exactly what they were looking for but an entire aisle of them. How lucky was that.

Douxie was taking very careful consideration into this tent purchase. This was going to be their new home, after all. He just couldn’t decide which one was best. They all had fancy camping terms on the packages that meant nothing to him. He’d been trying to decipher the code. The secret outdoorsman code. Nari shifted uncomfortably in the basket.

“Hisirdoux, you should maybe, hurry this along?” She sounded strained.

But she was right. He should just pick one already. It’s all a gamble anyway. He decided on a dark green one that boasted a water-proof material. Good natural color, not easily spotted, and it wouldn’t soak through with rain. That should work well enough, he figured.

“I’ve hurried along. Sorry Nari.” He casually tossed the box into the cart next to her. She sniffed the box and nodded to him.

Now that they had their goal item, the quest party started for the checkouts. Douxie could have sworn that it had been on the side of the store they were in. They had passed it when they came in. Now it was completely across by the other door. Did he get turned around? Or maybe they did come in from that side of the store. He actually couldn’t remember.

As they walked, a few things caught (Name)’s eye. They passed a display of dark leafy plants in oddly shaped pots, a table stacked high with various books and a clearance sign, a knife case that had been left open, a candle display with a few that had already been lit and were dripping wax, a bargain bin of CDs, and lastly a sad box of no-longer-in-season pool noodles. There was a sale on bloodmeal apparently. Perfect for perking up those roses after the summer heat.

They arrived at the checkout after what felt like an endless journey. (Name) hadn’t noticed any other customers the entire time they had been there, and yet the line for the only check open had seven people in it. She grabbed a couple bags of red licorice from the impulse shelf to add to their cart while waiting.

Nari was really interested in that checker. (Name) took her in. The teen was taller than most and had very, very long blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a shiny golden waterfall. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in. Must be going through a diet phase. Poor girl.

The young woman was obviously not one for small talk. Name couldn’t blame her. Retail sucks. Her perfect red fingernails clicked against the keys of the register in a practiced beat. She turned around and told them their total in a bored monotone. As Douxie fiddled with his wallet and payed, (Name) found herself staring right into the cashier’s eyes. They were such a light icy blue, they were almost white. It was striking. (Name) was almost in a trance. It was broken as the cashier turned around swiftly to rip off the receipt off the machine, and, in an uncharacteristically cheery voice, told them to have a nice night. Night?

They returned the cart back to the stack, grabbing their one singular shopping bag and helping Nari out. Of course Nari could easily just jump out herself, but that wouldn’t be something a human child could do. They didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves here. They made their way to the automatic sliding doors that lagged so that they didn’t open until you were standing right in front of them. This allowed Douxie time to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the glass. The reflection of the store was completely devoid of people. Not even the checker was at her station. He sucked in a breath. After walking through those first doors, he stopped. He took a moment to turn back. There she was, right where she should be, checking out another customer with three more in the line.

Douxie hurried along the doorway to catch up to (Name) and Nari. It was darker outside than he expected, and he was taken aback. He found them right outside the store, waiting for him. In one hand, (Name) was holding Nari’s, in the other, the plastic shopping bag. Her head was tipped up to the sky, transfixed by the moon. He came over, grabbing her shoulder as he pulled her along, in an attempt to urge her away from this place. She looked back at him, eyes wide with distress. He tried to convey that he understood with his eyes. All three of them instinctually knew not to say anything more why they were still in this parking lot.

It had barely been half past noon when they had started this little Kmart side quest. It was now at least seven by the looks of it. They had spent six and a half hours in a Kmart? How had they spent six and a half hours in a Kmart. There went their entire travel day. But no time to dwell on this, they needed to get back to Archie and the boat as soon as possible.

As they walked back towards the ship, (Name) and Douxie both took one of Nari’s hands so that she was in the middle, like how those couples walk with their children. The streetlights glared up at them in the slick pavement. Apparently, it had rained while they were in shopping limbo. Poor Arch. (Name) let out a puff of air.

“Well. That sure was something.”

Douxie nervously chuckled, “If we had stayed in there any longer, I think we might have died.” (Name) mirrored that nervous chuckle.

“Oh, no, dying would be much simpler than what would have happened to us.” Nari said sweetly, like what she was saying was somehow better. Nari liked being helpful. (Name) put on her best fake smile.

“Thank you, Nari.” She tried her best to sound as sincere as possible to spare the veggie lady’s feelings.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 19: The Worst Birthday

While they had finally begun to accept, even anticipate, but still never quite get used to that soul wrenching feeling of being pulled through time and space because another chapter had finished, they'd taken that last one with a grain of happiness it would be their last!

Then they all groaned in misery to find themselves not back in their Potions class, not even back at Hogwarts, but back at Number Four, Privet Drive!

"What the bloody hell!" James howled in a temper at once, pulling his wand out and reducing the nearest bush to leaves and roots, then turning his wand on the next without thought.

"That should have worked, we should be back at school," Remus agreed, massaging his abused rib cage and genuinely not understanding why they'd still be trapped out here.

"Maybe, maybe we just got sent back to where we first teleported," Alice tried to offer, going to the back gate and trying it with actual hope again. It refused to swing open, Frank tried to hop it and found this impossible.

"Argh!" Lily snarled, running her hand so hard through her hair she came back with strands in her nails. "This is the last place I wanted to wind back up at, even if this bloody cycle had to continue!"

"I'm sure you're not the only one," Regulus muttered.

With a heavy sigh, though all feeling rather resounded to the fate they'd clearly be stuck like this longer, they began searching for the stupid bloody book, though honestly with no idea why. It shouldn't have anymore to say.

This was a spacious backyard, neatly mowed ruler straight and trimmed hedges all along the back fence, though now with the exception of a few smoldering and threatening to set the whole place alight. The sunlight above already made this a blistering heat of day, the grass dry despite it's clear care, even the garden shed was highly polished on the outside but seemed to gleam threateningly. James was distracted at once by stepping inside and losing track of what he'd been looking for in favor of studying all these odd tools, though this time refrained from touching anything with his fingers still sore.

Peter chose to scale the side of the houses decorative vines for a view, was unsurprised to find he couldn't get very far when on the slanted roof and couldn't even cross to the front of the property, but caught his eye on something he hadn't quite been looking for.

"I think I know what the problem is," he told them as he fished out of the gutters a book of pure green, only the little silver two on the spine distinguished it from the leaves. "We seem to be flashing through the rest of Harry's years."

"Please tell me that is a miserable attempt at a joke," Sirius groaned as he sagged onto the nearest bench, still rubbing at his bruised throat.

"Well, I've found his second year, so I'm guessing not," Peter sighed, making himself comfortable up here and reading out the chapter title to prove his point. Given where Harry was, he imagined all of the kids birthdays were the worst, but wasn't looking forward to finding out about this one in particular.

James hoisted himself up there with him for kicks, and the others just settled themselves resignedly in the grass. Evans went over to the concrete patio, but chose to ignore the chairs and instead crossed her legs on the warm ground and tied her hair up in the evening sun. Frank and Alice lounged against the wooden fences, holding hands and just hoping this one went by without anything closer to alive foliage beneath them. Remus sat himself beside Sirius on the bench and tipped his face back to the sun, closing his eyes and wishing he were back at the lakes edge rather than this place as his friend began.

Sirius couldn't help but notice how much he'd filled out this year, from the thin gangly teen. Not quite as much as the rest of them, Remus' health would always be rather stunted, but the warm light on his face actually highlighted the light brown of his hair rather than the few gray bangs he had, the scarring more shadowed than prominent for once. He grinned at just how relaxed Moony managed to appear during all of this, though his good mood wasn't destined to last.

It certainly didn't start much fun at all, no one wanted any further reminders of what those Dursleys constantly did to Harry, putting him down like this all the time. The argument was stupid, no way could they get rid of his owl, and the Marauders in particular were being restless for not even being able to wreck the Dursleys things in retaliation for it all this time. They suddenly weren't even sure if what they'd done to the inside of the house was still there, did the effect they have on the place they were in remain like it did to them?

"If they think magic is that bad a word, I've got some real headliner news for them," Sirius scoffed.

"You do need to keep in practice, you haven't had a chance to use them on your parents in ages," Remus agreed with a small smirk that dimmed the sun. Sirius couldn't help but lean in closer, grinning just the same, happily escalating this with details of what he would like to give them knowledge of.

Peter couldn't help shifting uneasily closer to James as Harry reflected back on all he'd learned of his previous year, as if they'd forgotten. It was as much news to them as learning of this boy's potential existence! He envied Padfoot and Moony down there, trying to chat their way through this bit!

Prongs, to his credit, tried to brush it off by plucking some leaves out of the gutter and enchanting them to float down on the others. He had the first few batches float down in the shape of a heart to land around Evans, who completely ignored him, which was just a tiny bit of improvement over shooting a hex back. He then spent the remainder of this recap trying to shoot them up unsuspecting noses, muttering all the while for Peter alone it was actually a shame Snivellus wasn't here, his was the largest target.

Peter managed an appreciative titter, James always had found every way to make things seem better, even helping along to ignore his own death sentence.

"Rotten, filthy Muggle, locking that kids things away," Regulus grumbled as he watched his brother and friend on the bench. The two had been quite chummy lately ever since they'd made up, leaning so close together they looked as likely to brush hands as Longbottom and Smith over there. Regulus had almost hoped for just a second Sirius would pull his head out of his arse and remember to agree with him back in this place what a waste the whole species was like he had last time.

It was clearly not going to happen, the two conspiring over there for possible further torment of them or anything else Regulus just hadn't a care to listen to. He burnt an incoming leaf to cinders and thought Potter should count himself lucky he didn't turn the spell on him next.

"I think at this point they don't even know Harry has a birthday," Alice scoffed in disgust of these people treating a kid like that. "I've heard of happier child hoods from-" she cut off when something went whizzing into her mouth, and she spat a leaf out in disgust.

"You arse Potter," she snapped, having already batted away three of them and quite done with his antics, ready to raise her wand in retaliation by now.

He merely hooted with pleasure and wound up for another one.

"You do realize you're only helping the Dursleys, cleaning that out for them," Frank pleasantly called back, at least causing him to freeze in his actions before finally lowering his wand and muttering in disgust.

"Thank you," Alice sighed, leaning back and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Maybe we should spend the rest of the time reading around these places, there must be a way to continue to throw that logic at him."

"One can only go so far in tutoring before it ends with beating their head against a desk," Frank disagreed.

"Also sound advice for him, so there's really no down side," Alice concluded lightly.

Lily couldn't help but crack one eye open curiously as Vernon announced it an important day, not that she could ever delude herself by now thinking he'd actually grown such a thing as a heart, let alone a brain about what should have been important that day. It didn't stop her wondering what he could deem important and how she could make sure it never happened for that disgrace on the animal kingdom. A ruddy business deal? She closed her eye again and tried to pretend that Pettigrew's nasally voice was non-existent again, just trying to enjoy the sunshine and not relate to how miserable Harry was feeling. How alone he seemed to feel all the time at this place, and it was all his own family's fault- no! She couldn't think about that now, or she'd burst into tears in front of these people, most of whom she couldn't stand. Sev wasn't here, so she'd just have to tough it out on her own and refuse to let her mind revisit her own summers in a place disturbingly similar to this one.

Those leaves were actually helping, though she'd never admit it to Potter. If she concentrated very hard, she could just be back in her forest, surrounded by trees, waiting for the world to return back to normal at school, just like Harry, where her real friend was...at least while she could still hang around with him, when he wasn't also trying to chat up with so many other terrible people, and she just couldn't understand how he-

"They what!"

She sat up so fast she created a mini-whirlwind of the leaves around her and barely noticed, wand drawn on Lupin's outraged face. "Hermione and Ron forgot his birthday? That's ridiculous, they'd never, not after all they'd been through!"

She almost would have laughed at his personal offense to this if she didn't honestly agree, and had to backtrack a bit to really hear what she'd been trying to block out, and then couldn't even blame him for the outburst. Merlin, no mail all summer, what had gotten into Harry's friends?

"Surely we're missing something," the elder Black pacified, looking more confused than anything. "Hermione wouldn't have an owl most likely, and maybe Ron's parents have to use theirs too often to let him borrow it..." the excuses were flimsy at best and they all knew it. It truly made no sense, and the swell of pity around all of them for this poor kid having no one to acknowledge his birthday, even worse humming the tune to himself! Even her home had never gotten so bad!

"Oh good, I needed a distraction," Potter said from above in an all to familiar tone, but for once in her life Lily couldn't even blame him. She detested the little birks attitude of taking his problems out on others, like her friend, by hexing anyone he felt like. Yet in this instance, she got it. She wanted to curse Dudley to, for being the embodiment of all Harry's troubles! She'd restrain herself of course if the little ponce was put in front of her, drawers dropping or not, but it was almost as much a revelation to her to feel empathy for Potter as to still wonder what Harry had seen in that bush.

Then the real jaw dropping moment came in for everyone else, that poor kid nearly getting his head bashed in with a frying pan. Regulus couldn't give it a second thought but for a bit of empathy, maybe that kid would learn to keep his mouth shut like he had. Instead he remained focused on the inconspicuous, lone little bush behind his brother, the only one Potter hadn't destroyed upon first arriving. Regulus had well learned his lesson from the last book, and he wouldn't again let himself be so easily distracted as everyone else so clearly was, throwing all kinds of abuse around about all the chores Harry was to do. Regulus would have thought at least Sirius could blow the whole thing off as well, they may not be doing chores at their own place but the treatment wasn't unfamiliar to the two, but no, he was just in much of a temper as everyone else.

It was pathetic getting so worked up over something that wasn't even happening, leaving Regulus alone to wonder what had almost happened to the young Potter in that bush. Another attempt at return of the Dark Lord? If so, should he even say anything about it, but instead actually try to find a way to help it along. After all, if this future did happen, if he found a way to help someone so powerful in fact gain another strength in a sooner return to glory, maybe he could stop little boys from ever again feeling afraid in their own home, because there wouldn't be any fear left. The Dark Lord would make everyone an equal, and filthy Muggles like this would be a thing of the past.

Pettigrew finally warned that the first bit of this ending was nigh upon them, and Regulus did all he could to brace himself for whatever good that wouldn't do, admittedly as intrigued as anyone by the final line telling him he may not be far off. Who would be in Harry Potter's bedroom in a place like that?

[havecourage-darling]

Rictusempra

Words: 2,037 

Warnings: None

Pairing: George x Reader

A/N: As I said previously, I have a lot in mind for this little mini-series. Hopefully they’ll all be able to read as stand-alones, although they do probably read better in order. I’m a bit sick at the moment so I’ve stayed home from work and watched Sorcerer’s Stone and was inspired to write more and got this out in like five minutes. So, excuse any grammar errors. 

*As a reminder, please note - I’m no longer posting on Tumblr. If you want the continuation of this story, you can find it on AO3 or on my Masterlist.

1. Previous, Diagon Alley | Next, 3. Lightning has struck

“Happy Christmas!” A pair of voices shouted, startling you.

You smacked the closest one to you and Fred yelped.  

“Oi! Woman! Watch the goods!”

“You two promised to stop frightening me after I dropped my cauldron in September!” You reminded them.

George and Fred turned to each other and grabbed their heads, remembering the smell of burnt hair. “Right, right, sorry!”

You rolled your eyes and offered them a candy cane. “Happy Christmas, you two going home?”

“Yeah! Charlie’s coming around for a visit too!”

“Aw man,” you frowned.

“You could still come you know.” Fred tossed an arm around your shoulders. “Mum and Dad love your parents.”

“It’s a bit much really,” George joked.

It was true, your parents had struck up an unlikely friendship with the Weasley family. They’d already written to you about their visits to the Burrow. Your mother had introduced Molly to all her favorite novels while your father took Arthur out on excursions in London.

Molly had already invited you all for Christmas dinner but, you’d already promised your grandparents that you’d be over for a visit.

“Maybe next year? Or on summer holiday?” You suggested and they’d brightened up.

“’Course! You’d be able to meet Bill then,” Fred said.

You grinned. Charlie and Bill are the only two Weasleys you’d yet to meet.

“See you later!” Someone called out. You turned towards the sound and spotted your friends. You waved back to a few of them who’d gotten up from the table, giggling, and hurrying off to the common room.

Your friends always giggled when Fred and George hung around you, pranking you and talking about the latest Quidditch match. Apparently, not many first years regularly became friends with third year students. 

“There they go again, giggling,” you joked, waving again.

“Aw, they’re just little first years!”

You frowned. “Hey!”

George smiled. “I remember being that young Freddie, we had so much planned.”

“Good pranking year that was.” Fred nodded.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re both ridiculous. You’re barely two years older than me.”

“Barely?” Fred stood, mock outrage evident on his face. “I don’t know if you remember but our birthday is in April, badger.”

You only just stopped yourself from wacking them with your bag. Fred and George had greeted you during the welcoming dinner, George grinning and cheering when the hat had shouted – “Hufflepuff!” – with it barely having touched your head.

They’d found you the next morning, a little lost and trying to find your way to Charms.

“Aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be good at finding things?” George asked.

“Maybe the hat made a mistake,” Fred grinned, both of them herding you towards the third floor.

“It’s a big school!” You said defensively.

“Come on badger, can’t have you be late for your first class,” George pushed you forward.

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, climbing the stairs.

“Yeah, come on badger,” Fred said, ignoring your quip, “or else Mum’ll have our heads!”

Since then, the nickname had stuck.

“Will you stop with that-” you started for the thousandth time.

“Oi!” A new voice had shouted.

The three of you looked up and you realized that it was later than you thought. The Great Hall had emptied out, with only a few students lingering behind.

“Can I help you?” You asked as a group of Slytherins walked towards you. You recognized Marcus Flint, a fifth year, who loved scaring and frightening first years.

His nose turned up and his mouth twisted in an unpleasant snarl. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

You felt yourself flush and Fred stood up quickly, standing close to your left shoulder.

“Yeah?” He asked, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “What do you want Flint?”

George came up behind your right, hand on your shoulder, as if reassuring you. Flint’s eyes immediately zeroed in onto his hand and he snorted delightedly.

“Of course you two are hanging around the likes of her,” he said, his two friends laughing as well.

“The likes of me?” You asked,

“A dirty mudblood! The Weasleys were always known for having more kids than they can afford and even worse, being blood traitors,” he spat.

You hadn’t understood much of what he was saying, but by the way George and Fred gasped you’d gathered that it was an insult. The Weasleys had always been kind to you and more than welcoming. Your blood boiled at the thought of someone being rude towards them.

“How dare you!” George shouted, outraged in a manner you had never seen before.

“Now you’re in for it-”

“Mr. Flint! Mr. Weasleys!” Professor Flitwick’s voice came from the entrance.

You turned to see Fred and George beet red and expressions furious. You took advantage of Flint’s distraction and launched yourself at him.

He shrieked and went down like a rock. You sat on his stomach and whipped out your wand.

“Stop that!” The professor’s footsteps quickened but you were faster.

“Rictusempra!” You shouted and both of Flint’s friends went down, laughing and clutching their sides.

Flint was busy trying to buckle you off him but you started wacking him with your books.

“You!” –wack- “Do not!” –wack- “Insult!” –wack- “The Weasleys!” –wack- “In front!” –wack­- “Of me!”

“Young lady! Get off him this instant!” Professor Flitwick demanded.

Instead, you started hitting harder.

“Get ‘er off me!” Flint yelled, arms around his face, trying to push you off him.

“Mr. Weasley! Grab a hold of her!”

Fred stayed where he was. “But Professor – he does deserve it – he called her a-”

“Don’t say it or I’ll join her and crack his big head open,” George scowled.

“Mr. Weasley!”

“He called her a mudblood!” Fred exclaimed.

At that, Professor Flitwick inhaled sharply and Flint had finally managed to buckle you off him. You landed by George’s feet and he helped you stand.

“All of you, in my office, now!”  

///

You all received a long and stern lecture from the Professor. Once he’d seemingly tired himself out, he dismissed you all. “Mr. Flint, I do expect you to show up promptly to detention!”

You winced, you’d all received detention up until the holiday break.

Flint scowled but nodded as he and his group scrambled out. You three turned to walk out but Professor Flitwick called out your name. “Stay behind for a moment.”

Fred and George turned back to look at you but you waved them on.

“Yes, Professor?” Your eyes focused on your shoes.

“Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall speak very highly of you, you’re on track to be top of your year. I daresay you’ll be Prefect and Head Girl one day. I would hate to see that ruined by anymore bad behavior.”

“Of course,” you said, chagrined. “I really am sorry Professor, I just – they said such horrible things about the Weasleys and I couldn’t just stand there-”

“About the Weasleys?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Mr. Weasley said Mr. Flint had-”

“-he said awful things about them Professor!” You crossed your arms. “We weren’t bothering anyone, honest, and he started-”

“Violence is never the answer,” he said calmly, interrupting your rant, a knowing look in his eyes.

You deflated and nodded, eyes back onto your shoes.

“That being said,” he said slowly, “I would like to commend you for standing up for your friends. I’ll award ten points to Hufflepuff for the expert use of an advanced charm. I’ve never seen a first year take so quickly to Charms like yourself.”

Your head snapped up and you saw Professor Flitwick’s small smile.

“Thank you Professor! It’s because I have a great teacher-”

His face turned bright red and he huffed, pleased. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. Go on, straight to bed.”

You grinned and jogged towards the doors.

“-and take Mister Fred and George Weasley with you! I don’t want to hear them roaming the halls this late!”

As predicted, Fred and George were waiting for you by the end of the corridor.

“Did he yell at you some more?” Fred asked worriedly.

“A little,” you smiled and lowered your voice. “He congratulated me on performing an advanced charm.”

“Wicked,” Fred said, eyeing you with respect. “I always knew you’d be a wild card, thought you’d just be a Gryffindor to be honest.” You rolled your eyes. “How’d you know how to do that anyway?”

You grinned and shrugged. “I read a lot of books. Professor Flitwick always let me stay after to practice my wand work – so does McGonagall and Sprout.”

Fred and George rolled their eyes at you and you laughed.

“What? It’s all new to me! I can’t imagine what it’d be like growing up into a world like this.”

They laughed and you smiled. “I’m sorry they were so rude, does that happen a lot?” You asked.

You occasionally hung around the twins or studied with Percy when you were both in the library but, being a first year didn’t allow for your schedules to match up often. This had been the first time you’d seen Flint around them, so you weren’t sure if he was a constant bully.

“I couldn’t believe how rude he was about your family.” You were getting worked up all over again.

“Flint’s a moron – wait, what?” George said, both of them stopping.

“What, what?” You turned around and looked at them. “What do you mean?”

“We’re angry because of what he said – what he called you,” Fred sputtered. “Why were you angry?”

“Because of what he said about your family,” you said, eyes narrowing. “What was that he said? Blood traitors? I don’t know what it means exactly but, you both looked so offended I knew it had to be bad.”

They stared at you in silence for a beat until you grew uncomfortable.

“Guys!”

George laughed, a little incredulously, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on?”

Fred smiled. “We weren’t upset about that, they’re really uncreative with their insults those three.”

“You numpty. You went crazy on them because of what they said about us?”

You nodded and then a light when off in your head. “You’re upset because of what he called me – what was it?”

Their smiles dropped from their faces. “It’s a foul word, he crossed the line.”

“What was it?”

They shook their heads and you huffed in frustration. You tried to think back and remembered after a moment. “Muddle? Mudblood?” You said uncertain.

George scowled and Fred sighed. “It’s a horrible term for someone who’s muggleborn. Someone who hasn’t got magical parents or a magical family.”

“Oh,” you rolled your eyes and shrugged.

“Oh?” he said, voice high in outrage.

You shrugged. “I don’t care what they call me, silly. I’m not ashamed of my parents or of being muggleborn,” you smiled. “Anyone who does care – doesn’t need to be around me. Besides, it’s just a word of a mean fourth year.”

Fred and George stared at you uncertainly. “Well, you took that well.”

You smiled and walked back to link your arms with theirs. “Come on you two, I’ll teach you how to sneak into the kitchens.”

Fred grinned, excited. “I knew you’d come in handy!”

You rolled your eyes and he cheered, running a few feet ahead of you.

George, however, dropped his arm and took your hand in his. You furrowed your brows and tilted your head back to look at him. “Alright?” You asked.

He shook his head at you. “I can’t believe you took on three fourth years on your own. You didn’t even use magic on Flint - you – you’re something.”

You grinned and squeezed his hand gratefully. “Hufflepuffs aren’t such pushovers huh?” You joked.

George threw his head back and laughed. You couldn’t help but be warmed by the sound of it.

You both stared at each other for a moment, your stomach fluttering, when suddenly a blush rose from his neck. Before you could say anything – Fred’s voice boomed down the hallway.

“Will you two walk faster? The kitchen is calling our names!”

You laughed and walked forward, feeling flustered yourself.

“Come on Georgie.” You turned back to him and smiled. “Let’s go before Fred wakes up the entire castle.”

[androidemotions]

ok heres one of my torchwood wips T-T bc im feeling smth, its about ianto and rhiannon in my ianto lives au

-

Ianto sat down across from her, he’d already taken off his coat and she’d already set a cuppa out for him. This was starting to become routine, and Ianto was beginning to feel intimidated by that fact. It’s more than they’ve ever had between them, more truth and more connection, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

After the 456 he’d vowed to himself to visit her more often, especially being sure to spend time with the kids. Mica was still consumed by the Xbox most afternoons when he entered, but when they went out to the movies, she would chatter on the way back about all her favorite parts, particularly the explosions, and David would threaten to steal her candy but would always give some of his to her instead and Ianto cherished it. He found that those times also made him painfully nostalgic for his own childhood, but it was a minor note in a bigger concert.

On his visits to see Rhiannon, she mostly did the talking. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them. He gave comment where it was needed to keep her talking and listened as she gossiped about her friends and which of the neighbour’s kids kept climbing through the fence across the street.

And Rhiannon wasn’t subtle, she never, ever, had been. So when she asks about Torchwood it’s always, “Heard everybody was seeing these great, big halos the other night, that one of yours?” And when she tries to nudge him into mentioning Jack, it’s, “that boss of yours, he treatin’ you alright?” Ianto gets the feeling if he said that Jack had /not/ been treating him right she might have offered to beat his face for him. That idea makes him feel ridiculously fond.

“He’s treating me perfectly well, thank you,” he answers each time, she knows better than to think she’s getting more than that. Especially with Johnny sitting in the recliner behind them, mocking the enemies in Mica’s video game.

Johnny’s out today though, and even though he already knows, Ianto refuses to mention anything remotely informative about his life with the man in earshot. He doesn’t hate him, respects him a great deal more after the incident with 456, in fact, but the man is far too loud, about /everything/, for Ianto’s tastes.

Mica, who has her friend with two mums, is still situated on the couch when Rhiannon speaks.

“And how’s that man of yours?”

Ianto falters, because this is a break in the pattern.

“He’s fine…” he answers awkwardly, “he’s not… /mine/,” he points out reluctantly, heartbeat speeding up and cataloging the most logical excuses to leave at any given second.

“Really?” she asks, mouth curling up slightly, “you seein’ other people, then?”

Ianto shrugs, floundering like he always seems to when he’s trying to explain his current life to Rhiannon, to put it in terms she can cope with, ideas that aren’t too outrageous. “He said…” he starts slowly, letting out a breath through his nose, “he said he would stay,” he admits softly. It’s not much of his life, but it’s not nothing, not by a long shot. At least this is /true/.

Her eyebrows go up, lips parting in surprise, still smiling, almost edging into a grin now. “That’s big?”

Ianto doesn’t break his mask of neutrality, but he relaxes it just a bit, “yes,” he breathes.

“So it’s a bit like he /is/ your man, then?” she points out, wrinkling her nose with a smile, teasing.

He sighs, taking care to ensure he sounds supremely put-upon. “If you insist on calling him that, then /yes/.” Inwardly, he’s grinning like a git, hearing people refer to them in romantic terms always sends butterflies through Ianto’s stomach, and hearing it from his sister is making that feeling even more precious. He cares what she thinks of him, even if for a long time he wished he hadn’t.

“Well, seein’ as you haven’t even told me his name, I gotta call him something.”

Ianto hesitated, then he supposed that there couldn’t be any harm in just one name, it was a fairly common one, after all, that was by design on Jack’s part.

“Jack,” he allows.

“Jack,” she repeats, sounding the name out curiously, grinning all the while.

---

The question turns into, “well, how’s Jack?” from then on, and Ianto suddenly regrets everything. He’s crossed lines he can’t uncross and his /sister/ is referring to Jack by name, with the knowledge that he’s his boss, and also maybe his /man/, and all other sorts of euphemisms she could come up with to refer to them. /What/ had he been /thinking/?

“He’s fine,” is all he says. The fifth time after hearing that for an answer, Rhiannon demands more.

“You can’t just say that every time! C’mon, tell me something about him. Just something tiny,” she goads, “something you like about him.”

Ianto contemplates this question, all the multitudes of things he likes about Jack. The way he smells, that coat, his smile, his laugh, his hands, the way they can talk without talking, and the way they could also just talk to each other for hours on end. The way he sleeps, and how he mumbles sometimes as he dreams. How he talks low when they’re alone, just for Ianto. The way his hands always reach to cradle Ianto’s face when they kiss before touching elsewhere. How sometimes Jack is so harsh like the sea in a storm and sometimes he’s as gentle as summer waves lapping at the beach.

Ianto blinks away from these thoughts, focusing back in on the moment. /Everything/, he wants to say. Which is completely ridiculous, and terribly cliche, and not even /remotely/ true, considering how many things about Jack piss him off so acutely.

“He’s funny,” he settles on, because Jack is. He’s a people pleaser, a charmer. “You’d like him,” he adds mildly. Because Ianto is sure Jack could get on Rhiannon’s good side without even blinking.

“You should let me meet him, then,” she responds to that, looking a bit too proud of herself for reaching this point.

“Absolutely not,” he denies instantly, frowning at her. She glares in return.

“Why not?”

Ianto flattens his mouth in displeasure, “we’re not really in the ‘meeting-the-family’ stage of the relationship,” he tells her, he does not imagine they’ll ever be. Considering he learned about Jack’s daughter because of a hostage situation and every other family member he has is either dead, 3000 years in the future, or cryogenically frozen after irrationally blaming Jack for everything that happened to him.

“Have you told him you’ve been coming to see me?” she questions. He stares at her for a moment, bewildered about what she thinks she’s going to gain from this.

“Yes,” he answers, still uncomprehending, “why?”

“Well, will he think you’re hiding him away from me?” she asks him boldly.

Ianto can’t help but roll his eyes, “Rhiannon, we’re not like that, I’ve said.”

She huffs a sigh in frustration, “Ianto, you don’t tell me anything about all your alien business or the guy you're dating-- who’s also your boss! And it doesn’t seem like there's much to ask about otherwise! It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall!”

“Brick wall might be a bit reliable,” he snarks, the words are brittle in his mouth.

She deflates, “just tell me something,” she pleaded, “I wanna be a part of your life, I don’t just wanna sit here all day telling you ‘bout how Bridget’s cookies were burnt and how we had to replace the dryer after Mica’s ‘science experiment.’ I want to hear from you too!” She exclaimed.

He softened at the words, not able to help his smile at the mention of Mica’s latest explosion. “You are a part of my life,” he assured her, “and I like hearing about that stuff,” he adds with a lift of his shoulder.

She softens too then, giving him a wry smile, “something small?” she requests.

He thinks this over, then, “we caught an acid spitting alien and it melted through all our cells until we realized we should just freeze it.”

The look on her face is priceless, her mouth dropping open in disbelief before barking out a startled laugh. “how big was it?” she asked, raising her brows.

“Not very,” he said, “but it was a nasty little bugger.”

She looked at him, grinning pleased, “anything else you wanna tell me?”

He thought it over, then sighed heavily, “I’ll ask Jack,” he allowed.

Her brows shot up.

“I’m not promising anything,” he tacked on instantly, “he’s probably going to say no, and when I come back and tell you he said no, you leave it at that, alright?” He told her firmly, voice kept low, though still, Mica was the only one in the room. A strange little fly on the wall who he could never quite sense if she was listening or not.

“Alright, alright, I promise,” she agreed, but still, she looked so happy. It would be worth it, he supposed.

“My sister keeps asking after you,” Ianto mentions off-handedly when they’re working idly, Martha is out of earshot and Gwen and Tosh were off setting up scanners around the area of a predicted rift spike. Jack was leaning against his desk flipping through a stack of files when he glanced up.

“Oh?” he started, brows raised and setting aside the files, easily interested when he was the subject of conversation, “what do you tell her about me?” he questioned, his cheek dimpling as he started to smile, “all good things, I hope.”

“I told her you’re funny,” Ianto said, glancing over at him too, still perched on his desk but looking only at Ianto now.

Jack gives him a haughty look, “so, /that’s/ what I’m known for?” he questions, mock-offended but he still smirks at Ianto while he waits for an answer.

“You could be a stand-up comedian,” he suggests dryly.

“We’d have to be a two person show, you’d be my straight-man,” he says grinning, acknowledging their chemistry.

“I’m afraid I may not fit the bill,” Ianto counters flatly and Jack cackles, pushing off the desk now, to approach him.

“Damn,” he curses mildly once he reaches Ianto, shaking his head in faux-disappointment at their lack of compatibility as a comic duo. “Say anything else about me?” he prompts helpfully as he stands just a little too close to Ianto’s side.

Ianto hesitates, licking his lips, “she asked about meeting you,” he admits.

“Really?” Jack said. Ianto couldn’t quite look at him, so he diverged his eyes to the words on the screen, not reading any of them as he scrolled a little further.

“Yes…” he says slowly, trying to look distracted and not at all like he’s sweating, “she’s very insistent, but I already told her it wasn’t--”

“When?” Jack asks, then.

“-- in the cards, I mean, we…” he froze, turning his head now to gape at Jack, “/what/?” he asked sharply.

“When would she wanna meet me?” Jack asked cooly, raising one eyebrow at Ianto’s current expression. He snapped his jaw shut, still staring at Jack, brows pulled low as he studied his face.

“... You’d meet her?” Ianto asked slowly, still looking him over.

“If you let me,” Jack supplied easily, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Ianto evenly.

He narrowed his eyes at him wondering if somehow this was some strange trick. “You’re /willing/ to meet my sister? As my, um--” He struggled to find the right word.

“Boyfriend?” Jack suggested, teasing sharply.

“I don’t /know/ what to call us,” Ianto countered, staring him down, even as heat rose in his cheeks.

“What do you /want/ us to be called?” Jack challenged him, raising a brow.

‘/Boyfriends/,’ Ianto’s mind instantly supplied but he kept his mouth shut as he watched Jack, trying to puzzle him out.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to meet them…?” he asked him and Jack raised both his eyebrows now.

“Ianto, /you/ were the one who didn’t want me near them and I was respecting that,” Jack pointed out, looking serious now.

“I didn’t--” Ianto started to deny, but then realized Jack was right, for a very long time, Ianto never mentioned a word about them and never wanted anything remotely to do with Torchwood anywhere near the last of his family, /Jack especially/. He pressed his lips together and Jack raised his brows pointedly, mouth pinched.

Ianto glared at him then, “well, what about you?” he asked sharply, “you hate us even being considered a couple and now you’re suddenly fine with meeting my family-- who-- I might remind you, is under that assumption about us. Sorry about that,” Ianto tacks on sarcastically, not intending to sound as bitter about it as he does.

“I never said I hated people thinking we were a couple!” Jack looked taken aback by the assertion.

“Yes you did,” Ianto countered, voice rising, suddenly angry that Jack seemed to think he was the one who was coming out of nowhere with this, “you /told me/ you hated that word!”

“Yes, I /hate/ that /word/,” Jack threw his hands up, experated, “I think it’s stupid and small-minded to refer to a pair of people like they’re one thing! But, Ianto-- by all earth definitions-- /yes/ we do fit under that umbrella. I don’t /care/ if people think of us as a ‘couple!’”

Ianto stared at him, reeling at the confession and trying to ground himself, “what, um, what do /you/ think of us as, then?” he asked cautiously.

Jack stared at him, swallowing, “Partners?” he suggested softly.

“/Partners/?” Ianto repeated in disbelief.

Jack nodded stiffly, squinting at him. “But you don’t seem thrilled with that.”

Ianto was quick to shake his head, “no. Partners, that’s fine, I’m good with partners,” he rushed the words out, not wanting to give Jack time to realize his mistake and take any of this back.

But Jack’s brows creased in concern, “if you have a word you prefer…?” Jack prompted him, raising his eyebrows now in anticipation, surely already knowing what Ianto wanted to say and waiting for him to admit it.

Ianto studied him for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the word /partners/; it was succinct, simple, made sense in so many situations, and didn’t sound quite as silly as ‘boyfriends’. He could easily see why Jack had chosen it, it was the logical option. But there was something too clinical about it for Ianto’s tastes, something that skipped past the way Ianto would wake up too warm with Jack wrapped around him. That term missed out on the simple truths for Ianto, like how he and Jack had an unfinished puzzle sitting on his coffee table, waiting for them in spare moments when they sat down to talk. Or how Jack knew exactly how to fluster Ianto without fail and Ianto could snark back just as easily. Or how these days he knew exactly how to find his way through Jack’s bunker without needing the light and Jack no longer needed to ask where anything was kept in the kitchen of his flat, both of them perfectly familiar with the other’s spaces. It was all the little intimate things they had become that Ianto never ever wanted to skip over, that got brushed past by that word.

“Boyfriend?” Ianto answered hopefully, heart pounding too loudly in his chest.

“Then we’re boyfriends,” Jack agreed, before dropping a hand to Ianto’s shoulder and drawing him into a hug. Ianto returned it, letting out a breath.

“I think we made that harder than it had to be,” Jack sighed next to his ear.

“Just a bit,” Ianto agreed, mouth pressed into his shoulder, still a little shocked it had been just that easy.

Stepping away, Jack was quick to smile at him again, “alright, back to work,” he chided teasingly, wagging a finger at him and turned to stride back towards his office. He paused though as he reached the door.

“And let me know when I’m going to meet Rhiannon, I want to look my best,” Jack told him, grinning widely.

As happy as Ianto was that Jack was so clearly, explicitly, completely unequivocally willing to commit to him, Jack and Rhiannon actually meeting wasn’t a real possibility he’d considered until just now.

“Oh, god,” he murmured in horror, turning away from Jack laughing at him.

Which is how he ended up standing at the door to his sister’s house, with Jack at his side, steeling himself to knock.

“Want me to ring the doorbell?” Jack offered unhelpfully beside him.

“Doesn’t work,” Ianto responded instantly.

“/Soooo/, are we just gonna stare at the door, then? Until it falls off the hinges… or?” Jack whispered, teasing him.

“I’m /going/ to knock,” Ianto told him firmly, before glancing over at Jack. Despite what he’d said about looking his best, he was wearing what he always wore. A blue button-up, slacks and his signature coat. With a black vest added to the ensemble, he /occasionally/ branched out in his fashion choices.

“Be on your best behavior,” Ianto instructed him sternly, catching his eye and Jack just grinned at him.

“Aren’t I always?”

Ianto let out a drawn-out sigh.

“I can go sit in the car if you want,” Jack suggested then, voice wry. “You can just crack the window for me so I won’t die from heatstroke.”

Ianto’s lips twitched at that, “I hate that we have the same sense of humor,” he muttered, smirking.

“Good thing you told her I was so /funny/, then,” Jack responded sarcastically.

Ianto knocked, without further preamble, cutting off any more banter Jack could spout, which was an infinite amount, because he was /Jack/.

A moment later, Rhiannon was opening the door, beaming at them.

“Come in, come in,” she spoke, stepping back and waving both of them inside, Jack smiled back at her charmingly all the while.

The only conditions Ianto had agreed to their meeting was it being between solely Rhiannon, Jack and himself. They could have gone out to meet somewhere, but it had been decided, by Rhiannon, that they would be more comfortable in her house. Ianto suspected she also wanted to give him less room to evade her.

The only time the kids and Johnny were all out of the house was on a weekday, but so long as the rift wasn’t predicted to get out of hand, he and Jack could find free-time on any day of the week, just as well as a weekend. Better even, cause none of the others tended to have plans.

“You /and/ your boss can get off in the middle of the week?” She sounded doubtful.

“This job isn’t exactly nine-to-five,” Ianto responded, “we’ll leave if we get called in.”

“You’d better not get called in,” she warned him and he couldn’t help but snort in response.

Now as he stepped out of the entryway and stared at the completely rearranged living room he couldn’t help but sort of wish Mica were there playing games as always, it was strangely disconcerting with her gone. The couch was pushed forward, bean bag chairs were nowhere in sight, but probably fit to burst from being stuffed in the hallway closet. In front of the couch was the coffee table, which had long since been pushed against the wall after David fell onto it when he and Mica were running through the house and cracked the glass with his head. His head had been fine, thankfully. And at an off angle to the couch was Johnny’s recliner, all situated so they could comfortably look at one another while they talked.

Ianto was starting to regret that he hadn’t just lied, telling Rhiannon instead that Jack said no, but they were here now, no turning back.

“Tea for you?” she asked, lifting the electric kettle and already pouring water for herself and Ianto as she always did, but now there was a third cup to join theirs.

“You got any coffee?” Jack answered and Rhiannon looked up at him in surprise when he spoke. The accent, Ianto realized, must have caught her off guard.

“Sorry, no,” she smiled apologetically with a shake of her head, recovering well enough.

“Tea’s good then,” Jack agreed with an ever-pleasant smile.

“Ianto didn’t mention you were American?” she said curiously, staring at Jack while Ianto reached for all of their teacups to move them to the coffee table.

“I’m sure there’s plenty Ianto didn’t mention about me,” Jack replied easily, “he’s quiet, this one.”

Rhiannon laughed, and Ianto was sure to give Jack a withering look as soon as he caught his eye, which was received with a demure smile.

She ushered them to the couch then and settled into the recliner herself, squishing into the worn cushions. Jack looked perfectly at ease next to him while Ianto was stiff as a board. It was sort of funny, considering he wasn’t the one in an unfamiliar house meeting his partner’s family for the first time.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he introduced himself, and shook her hand before taking his seat, “pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davies.”

She stared at him for a moment with eyes pulled wide, grinning wildly. “Oh please, call me, Rhiannon,” she corrected him.

“Call me Jack,” he said, grinning in kind.

“So, tell me about yourself, then,” Rhiannon invited him, smiling winningly.

“Well, I think Ianto’s mentioned that we work together,” Jack began.

“Said you’re his boss,” Rhiannon agreed, “how much older are you, exactly?” She wondered, eyes narrowing sharply.

Jack didn’t look at all perturbed by the question, just opened his mouth to answer, but Ianto spoke first, “he’s in his thirties,” he supplied.

“Thirty-six,” Jack agreed, not missing a beat. Ten-year age difference, it was accurate /physically/, at least.

“How’d you two come about then, after working together?”

Jack glanced at him, smiling easily. He was letting Ianto take the lead here, he realized, and he would follow up to however much or little Ianto wanted to tell her.

“It was…” Ianto started to speak, “I came back to Cardiff for work, when I met Jack,” he said carefully.

“Transferred facilities and came to work under me instead,” Jack looked at him again, smiling affectionately, “and I’m grateful he did.” Ianto really was losing track of exactly how much of this was a show Jack was putting on for her, but he’d still managed to slip a double entendre in there.

“Was it hard?” she asked curiously, “being the first man Ianto was with?” It was a bold question, a bit tactless, but Jack wasn’t one to shy away from these topics, and neither was Rhiannon, clearly.

Jack glanced at him. He knew it was a blatant lie on Ianto’s part, that Jack was the only man he’d been with, but Ianto knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was just easier, telling Rhiannon the things she would prefer to hear than actually trying to explain himself to her.

“Not at all,” Jack answered, looking at his sister again, smiling warmly, “I know how to take things slow.”

Ianto rolled his eyes /hard/ at that. Completely ridiculous.

“Ianto, ‘ave you got something to add?” Rhiannon wondered sharply, and of course, then of all moments she had to be watching him.

He gave her a sardonic smile, “nothing at all, Rhi. It’s just funny! Why Jack just might just be the most /polite/ man you’ll ever meet,” he said, his sarcasm was impossible to miss.

“You told me /‘best behavior,’/” Jack hissed at him.

“Well, you sound completely ridiculous,” he pointed out in return.

“I’m just going off what /you/ said! What /exactly/ would you like me to tell her, Ianto?” He invited him sharply.

He frowned, glancing from Jack staring at him intently to Rhiannon watching them with a confused smile pulling at her mouth. At least she didn’t seem as mortified as Ianto was feeling right at this moment.

He crossed his arms and faced his sister, looking her dead in the eye.

“Jack is the strangest man I’ve ever met, and he’s not polite at all, he makes lewd jokes and chews with his mouth open. If you’re going to meet him, I at least want you to /actually/ meet him,” he says, sighing with finality and knowing his face has gone completely red.

“Well, there you go,” Jack agrees with a sweeping gesture, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Ianto has realized as comfortable as it is to lie to her about this, he wants her approval, and that really means nothing if he’s not at least a little bit honest. He’s been trying to be that with Rhiannon for a while now, but he didn’t know how to explain that to Jack.

But Rhiannon was laughing then, giggling, really. “Well, the only other things you told me ‘bout him were that he’s handsome and funny, so I think maybe I’m starting to get something outta you, for once,” she looks happy now smiling at Ianto and he tries to smile back.

“So, I’m /also/ known for being handsome, then?” Jack intercuts, his voice turning sly.

Ianto turns a flat look on him, resolutely ignoring the way his face is still flushed, “I was only confirming the rumors.”

“And who exactly was starting rumors about how handsome I am?”

“/Her/ nosey friends who don’t know how to mind their own business,” Ianto shot back.

“Oi!” Rhiannon objected. Ianto turned his deadpan stare on her instead now, inviting her to argue with his statement. They both knew he was right.

“Not like I ever would have heard about this from you,” she argued back, gesturing towards him.

Ianto scowled at her, before scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know, Rhi, maybe, maybe if you’d given me time I could’ve explained it better,” he said, giving her a pained look now.

“Well, how would you explain it now, if you told me?” she asked insistently.

He froze up at that, his eyes strayed to Jack then, who was simply watching him calmly, a solid presence by his side. He looked back towards her then, swallowing thickly.

“I... fell in love with a man, Rhi,” he admitted slowly, and it wasn’t something he hadn’t said to Jack already, but telling her so plainly should be completely unimaginable, yet here he was, doing just that. “As much as you might doubt it, I do /actually/ care how you think of me.”

Her brows drew up in concern, “that would never change how I think of you,” she said, and she sounded so earnest.

“Rhiannon,” he sighed, smiling sadly now, “it /always/ changes how people think of you.”

She stared at him for a long moment, looking like she couldn’t comprehend what he was telling her. “You’re my /brother/ Ianto, nothing will change that.”

“What about Johnny?” he countered sharply, “do talk about me with him? What does he say, I wonder?”

She glared at him furiously at those words, “Johnny doesn’t hate you, Ianto! He likes you just as well as he always has,” she objected.

“It’s not just about /hating/ people, Rhiannon. It’s about all those little things. About how /strange/ it is, and how you’re just now thinking I’ve always been a little too over-emotional, that I cried just too much, or that I was always too /weak/,” he bit out the word. “I can’t /stand/ it. If you just hated me Rhiannon, it’d be easier,” he said, the truths just pouring out of him now as he stared her down, “Then I wouldn’t have to be here right now.”

Her face had gone slack with surprise and Jack wasn’t watching him anymore, only staring cooly out into the room, looking completely unfazed.

Ianto’s heart was racing like he’d just run a marathon and he waited. Waited for her to say something.

“If you don’t want to come ‘round, Ianto, all you had to do was say,” she spoke finally, her voice was soft and filled with solemn resolve. He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.

“I /do/ want to be around you, Rhiannon,” he rushed to correct her, “but I’m just,” he floundered for the words looking for the right thing to say.

He took a shaky breath and when he glanced at Jack, this time the man was looking at him with that steady gaze, expectant.

“I’m just /scared/,” he admitted finally and the corners of Jack’s lips lifted ever so slightly for him, a small comfort just for Ianto to see. He looked back at Rhiannon, meeting her gaze.

“Well, you don’t have to be,” She suggested quietly.

He let out a breath, lowering his eyes again. In a way, she was right, but she still didn’t understand. She never would, not really.

“Well,” Jack broke the moment suddenly, “I’m just glad I was here to serve as a catalyst for this heartwarming breakthrough between brother and sister,” he spoke, smirking between them. Though Ianto got the sense Jack knew he was saving Ianto from having to come up with another answer to Rhiannon’s assurances.

Rhiannon gave the man a wide-eyed look, a confused grin pulling at her lips now, she shot Ianto a questioning look.

“Yes,” he answered, being sure to sound spectacularly put-upon as he said it, though in truth he just felt ridiculously fond, “he’s always like this.”

“And he /loves/ me for it, you heard the man,” Jack teased.

Rhiannon laughed and Ianto let himself relax, just for a moment.

[ontheotherside524]

the dead forest

Happy Valentine’s Day, @moontailor! You sent me such a detailed and well thought-out letter that I loved a lot, so I did my best to incorporate the things you said you liked! I’m really not sure how well it went, but...I hope you like these chocolates!

Rating: T

Pairing: Akakuro

Word Count: 6k

Summary: In a world full of hybrids, Akashi lives alone. One day, he decides to explore a land that has long been abandoned. There, he meets a boy with bare wings, and he becomes fascinated.

Warnings: None

The land known as Teikou is split into several smaller territories, all with different types of terrain to match the people who live there. For example, the people who live in the territory of Seirin are generally of the feline variety, so the area is split into a forest and a savannah-type field, with a river splitting the two areas in half. Of course, while not everyone who lives in Seirin is part feline, people will general live in a territory that suits their preferences, so there are more dominant groups in every territory.

Seijuurou is technically a ‘minority,’ as he is part dragon, and hybrids like him are extremely rare. He’s made his home in the territory of Rakuzan, which has no prevalent race. Rakuzan is home to people who aren’t comfortable settling down anywhere else. Due to Rakuzan being the largest territory and thus having many different terrains, it’s suitable for almost anyone.

Seijuurou himself resides in the mountains in the back of the territory, and is basically isolated since the mountains are, naturally, not the most hospitable place to live. It suits Seijuurou, though, for it’s easier for him to take off when he’s already at a high altitude. Additionally, the caves are cool and dry during the summer, and during the rainy season they make a good place to rest. There’s plenty of food nearby in both the forest and the river at the foot of the mountain, and the quiet is soothing. Unlike the bustling towns below, the mountains are silent and peaceful.

However, Seijuurou likes to adventure away from his small kingdom frequently.

Naturally, it is dreadfully boring to sit in a cave all day or climb the mountain repeatedly. Thus, Seijuurou often goes down to the towns to search their wares or visits different territories to observe how other people live. It is far, far more interesting than lazing about.

Though, there is one small pocket that he has yet to explore. It’s tucked in the border between Seirin and Rakuzan, and it’s known to be a ‘ghost area.’ It has no name, and most skirt around it due to a number of ridiculous, overblown rumors surrounding it. For example, people speculate that ghosts live there, or zombified people wait at the borders to kill anyone who enters. While Seijuurou will concede that the area is highly inhospitable, due to it being a burned down forest that’s perpetually surrounded by thick fog, he highly doubts any ghosts or zombies live there.

For one, both are technically not even counted as ‘living.’

The story of this inhospitable stretch of land is simple, quite honestly. Some years ago, during a dispute between Rakuzan and Seirin, a forest was set on fire and burned down within hours. Several inhabitants were caught in the chaos, and survivors were never counted. As if the universe itself was angered by the childish war that led to the deaths of innocent people, a thick fog descended on the ashen forest and never disappeared.

The dispute was over a small piece of land between Rakuzan and Seirin. The land was technically Seirin’s, but people from Rakuzan had settled there over the years, due to the favorable conditions and it being generally unused by Seirin. Both Rakuzan and Seirin deeply regretted their actions, and they settled the dispute after the forest was burned down. The forest would be declared as neutral territory, and the middle of the forest, where the skeleton of a hardy great tree stood, was the border between Rakuzan and Seirin. They split the land and left the forest alone, and have been on peaceful terms ever since.

Seijuurou has always wanted to visit the fog-covered area, but something or another has always stopped him from going. Today, however, there is nothing that can stop him from finally seeing the dead forest for himself.

It isn’t that far from his home to the edge of the forest. A dense fog slowly settles over his shoulders, making the air heavy. Seijuurou peers cautiously into the fog, careful not to misstep and trip over rocks or branches on the ground. Slowly, the green of the grass turns to a sickly gray color, crunching noisily beneath Seijuurou’s feet with every step. He becomes more careful, noticing that there is plenty of debris littered on the ground now. Burnt branches, scorched rocks, and even the occasional carcass of a dead animal are scattered across the ground. He notices the bones of the carcasses are picked clean. Scavengers, maybe? He looks up toward the sky but is unable to make out anything past the thick white fog.

Luckily, it isn’t all that difficult to breathe despite the thickness of the fog. He wonders why. At any rate, it’s technically good news for him. He can continue to press onward with little worries. As for the scavengers, he isn’t afraid. If anything attacks him, he brought his sword and dagger with him, and he’s wearing thicker clothes to protect from an initial attack. Naturally, he came prepared just in case he ran into something.

Through the fog, he just manages to catch the skeleton of a tree before him. He skirts past it, but as he does, he glances up out of curiosity. The branches are scorched, nearly entirely black in color. It stands eerily still, no leaves to be ruffled. As Seijuurou is turning to look back toward the ‘path’ in front of him, he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

A series of grooves are carved into the tree, all clearly made with a blade.

Seijuurou stops abruptly, turning to observe the odd markings closely. The tree is scored sixty-seven times, all lines the same length and matching perfectly. It’s clearly the work of someone who cared deeply about the purpose behind the markings.

Still, Seijuurou is unsure of what the markings mean.

Suddenly, he hears movement behind him. Pulse quickening, he swiftly reaches for his sword, whirling around and pointing it in the direction of the noise.

The first thing he notices is the bone white skeleton of something eerily wing-shaped stretching before him.

The second is the boy who has them attached to him.

Deep blue eyes widen at the sword being pointed at him, and before Seijuurou can get a good look at him, he turns tail and flees. Seijuurou, knowing that it’s a very idiotic idea, follows.

It isn’t hard to follow the outline of those… things on his back, anyway.

The chase is hard to follow through. Seijuurou has to rapidly dodge debris on the ground while keeping one eye on the boy running from him so he doesn’t lose him. It seems to stretch on for an eternity, his chasing the mystery boy through the thick fog. But, eventually, something appears before them. Something gigantic, nearly half the size of the largest mountain in Rakuzan.

The great tree in the middle of this area.

Abruptly, the boy calls for help. “Chihiro-nii-san, help!” He shouts up to the tree. Seijuurou pauses, unsure if he should go any further, and the moment of indecision saves him from a nasty wound as a dagger impales itself in the ground in front of him.

Seijuurou realizes that the fog is clearing slowly, but only in the area around the tree. When Seijuurou looks up, there is a very angry man sitting on a low branch of the tree, armed with at least a dozen daggers. His gray wings flap agitatedly behind him. “Are you chasing my brother?” He practically snarls, murky eyes glaring a hole right through Seijuurou.

Seijuurou, however, remains unfazed. “I was curious,” he says, simply. He notices the boy he chased swiftly climbing the tree, as if he’s been doing it for years. Seijuurou looks at his back more closely now that the fog has cleared. They’re definitely wings, but the wings have been stripped down to the bone, feathers gone. Seijuurou feels a small rush of unease. What could have happened to do this to his wings?

“Hey!” The other man snaps, standing up and clutching three daggers in his hand. “Stop looking at him unless you want to die right here!”

Seijuurou merely looks at him, unimpressed. Deciding to ignore his threat, he speaks up once more. “I thought that this area was uninhabited,” he says, calmly. The man bristles as the boy reaches his branch and sits at his feet, watching Seijuurou warily. He still looks young, with a pretty face and round eyes, but Seijuurou would wager that he’s at least a hundred years old.

Still young compared to Seijuurou.

The man scoffs, watching Seijuurou with guarded eyes. “Yeah, everyone does.” He doesn’t bother on elaborating why they’re here, which irks Seijuurou. He doesn’t particularly want to ask this arrogant man a question—it will probably just make him angrier.

Suddenly, a softer voice cuts in. “Would you like to know why we live here?” The boy Seijuurou chased asks, tilting his head curiously. He doesn’t seem as guarded as his brother; he’s obviously more trusting than the elder. Not exactly smart, but since it works in Seijuurou’s favor, he won’t criticize him aloud.

“Tetsuya!”

Seijuurou smiles. “I would,” he replies, noticing the gray-haired man glaring at him. He smirks, and ignores the outraged growl from the other.

The boy, on the other hand, just nods and repositions himself to face Seijuurou. “My name is Kuroko Tetsuya,” he says, introducing himself. “I’ve lived here for as long as I can remember.” Seijuurou is surprised, but he doesn’t show it. Still, Kuroko seems to catch on, and smiles slightly, the edges dry. Seijuurou doubts anyone less observant would have noticed. “Yes, that does mean that I’ve lived here before the fire devastated this land. The truth is, some of us survived, but not without injury.” Kuroko spreads his wings, glancing at them without emotion. “I was born with regular wings, but they were burned by the fire. Perhaps you know this, but the fire was of the supernatural kind. The feathers that were burned did not grow back, and eventually, all of them fell off to leave the skeleton of my wings.”

A chill runs down Seijuurou’s spine, but he ignores it.

Kuroko looks back at Seijuurou, shrugging his shoulders a little as if it doesn’t affect him. “If I may be honest, I do not care. My wings no longer hurt, and I’ve gotten used to being unable fly. And, I’m still alive. Even like this, I’m grateful for that.” Kuroko smiles again, just as small as the first time.

And that, really, is what captures Seijuurou’s attention.

The older man grunts, clearly displeased his brother decided to disclose all that information to Seijuurou. Even so, he doesn’t reprimand him in front of Seijuurou and instead snaps, “There, are you satisfied? Can you just leave already?”

Seijuurou looks at Kuroko and his wings.

“No, I’m afraid I cannot.”

The older man’s name turns out to be Mayuzumi Chihiro, but neither brother tells him why their last names don’t match. Seijuurou doesn’t particularly mind. He’s more curious about the fact that Kuroko invited him into their ‘village,’ since he made it clear he wasn’t going to leave just yet.

Seijuurou assumed their village would not be that far from the tree, but rather than leaving, Kuroko had climbed down the tree and beckoned Seijuurou toward it. By pulling away blackened vines hanging from the tree, Kuroko revealed an opening into the tree. Fascinated, Seijuurou followed him into it.

As it turns out, a part of the tree is hollow. In the hollow parts of the tree is everything you would find in a normal village—a well with clean water, houses, livestock, crop fields, and more. People buzz about, busily keeping up with their daily routines while laughing and talking as if this is normal. For them, Seijuurou guesses it is.

In the center of it all is the ‘real’ trunk of the tree standing healthy and strong. Seijuurou wonders if this tree is how all of these people survived that devastating fire. It certainly seems durable, and it still stands even after the fire.

There’s a slope from the opening that leads down to an outer road that circles the entire tree. All of the buildings and fields are within that road, and smaller paths connect to the outer road, leading inward. Everything seems well-worn, indicating that they have been living here for a long time.

Kuroko leads him down the slope onto the outer road, telling him along the way, “This tree has no name, yet has stood here for as long as our people can remember. It has grown on the outside throughout the years, but this hollow inside has always existed and been home to many. When the fire swept through this land, everyone else who lived outside fled for this tree.” Kuroko sighs almost inaudibly, glancing up at nothing. “Many of us did not make it, and most of those who did were hurt.”

And it clicks in Seijuurou’s mind. “Sixty-seven,” he realizes. Kuroko looks at him, slightly surprised. Seijuurou lifts an eyebrow. “That’s what the markings indicted, no? Sixty-seven deaths.”

Kuroko blinks, a pained expression flashing across his face. He eventually glances away, nodding. “Yes, that is correct. Sixty-seven people died on that day. To many, it may not seem like much, but this has never been a heavily populated area. Everyone here has always been a tightly-knit community.”

Seijuurou mulls over this information as they take a path leading inward. Certainly, most would consider sixty-seven a minimal loss of life in the grand scale of things. But, to this community who was close to each other, it must have been devastating. And while it does seem like they have been able to live here in this tree that is the only thing left after the fire…

“Why did you never approach the other territories for help in restoring your land?” Seijuurou asks, curiously. Rather than being forced to live forever in here, it would have been better to try to restore the land into its original state—or at the very least, something close to it.

Kuroko shakes his head as Mayuzumi scoffs behind Seijuurou. “Don’t be stupid. After the fire, everyone assumed we were all dead, and when we tried to approach the borders, anyone nearby would scream nonsense about zombies. We realized that we couldn’t rely on other territories to help us, so we decided to just give up on making the land better, since we couldn’t do it ourselves.”

Seijuurou doesn’t find himself very shocked at the new information, but before he can speak, Kuroko adds, quietly, “The earth here is incredibly damaged as well. Nothing will grow anymore. If we were to try to make the land healthy again, it would take a miracle.”

Seijuurou, recalling how the earth looked as he was walking earlier, knows that what Kuroko says is true. He doubts that anyone could help them replenish the land, which is disadvantageous for these people. Unable to live anywhere else, they have been forced to live here, and while they seem fine with it, Seijuurou doubts living out the same mundane routine is fulfilling for them.

Before he can ponder any further, a voice suddenly calls out to them. “Hey, Tecchan! Who’s this?” They sound surprised and cautious, and the source of the voice is coming from above them.

Seijuurou looks up and sees a man sitting on the roof of a hut, black wings spread as if ready to take off at a moment’s notice. When Kuroko sees him, a small smile appears on his face. “Ah, Takao-kun. This is Akashi Seijuurou; he’s from Rakuzan. He’s just visiting,” Kuroko explains, and Seijuurou notices Takao’s shoulders relax slightly, though the tension doesn’t ease completely.

“’Just visiting’?” Takao quotes, incredulously. “You know no one visits us, right?”

Kuroko seems to consider it for a moment and then shrugs his shoulders. “Akashi-kun is a special case, I think,” he replies, a bit of humor creeping into his voice. Seijuurou chuckles, and when Kuroko glances back at him, Seijuurou smiles at him.

It’s a bit strange. He doesn’t know why, but he’d like to get to know the other better.

It’s the first time he’s ever felt this way.

During Seijuurou’s extended stay inside the great tree, he learns several things. One of those things is that the tree has moss on the walls that is luminescent, so it’s a natural light source for what would otherwise be a dark hollow. Another is that, despite not seeing anyone outside their own territory for years, everyone here has been friendly and receptive to him. That is, except for Mayuzumi, who seems to have not forgotten about his chasing Kuroko.

“Were you really curious?” Kuroko had asked one day, sitting beside Seijuurou on a bench outside a pasture of cows. Seijuurou had glanced at him, observing the cautious expression in his eyes.

Seijuurou doesn’t look at his wings and holds eye contact with him, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Yes.”

The people here have no name for their territory. Kuroko explained that it originally had no name, and everyone that came after the settlers didn’t bother naming it. It became a tradition, and so the territory has been left unnamed. No one cares, because they call it ‘home.’

Seijuurou finds his days spent here fascinating—much more so than his days in Rakuzan.

When Seijuurou mentioned that he was a dragon hybrid one day, Kuroko, who has been his primary companion throughout his stay, had seemed surprised; but he hadn’t seemed afraid like some people who find out what he is are. Instead, he seemed interested, and he asked Seijuurou what his distinctive features are, since he didn’t notice any. Amused, Seijuurou pointed out his slit pupils, and he showed him the red and golden scales lining the outside of his forearms. Kuroko had looked at his scales curiously and asked if he would transform outside for him. Seijuurou had politely declined, citing that he didn’t feel like transforming, which was true. Kuroko had understood and instead asked him what it was like to be a dragon hybrid.

“I’m just a bird hybrid, and since I’ve lost my feathers, when I transform, I can’t fly, so there’s no point. Although it makes me feel quite useless, I’ve learned not to mind it.”

Seijuurou has considered transforming for Kuroko, but he hasn’t come to a decision yet. He’s not sure why he’s even considering it. He simply doesn’t like transforming because being a large dragon feels too clunky, and even if he looks majestic, he doesn’t particularly feel that way. So why would he consider going through the hassle for this person he’s only known for about a month?

He still hasn’t found the answer, but perhaps it’s…

Well, he’ll consider it.

Seijuurou had asked one day whether Kuroko disliked him or not because he’s a part of one of the territories that was the cause of the fire. Kuroko had seemed caught off-guard, but he recovered quickly.

“Why would I dislike you just for that? You weren’t the one that started the fire.”

Seijuurou had conceded, and for some reason, he couldn’t forget what he said.

Kuroko has asked, more than once, when Seijuurou plans to leave and go back home, but Seijuurou has said that he doesn’t know every time. The truth is, he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel compelled to go back to Rakuzan, but he’s unsure if he wants to stay here either, because he’s infringing on them. Although Kuroko has reassured him that it’s no problem, Seijuurou has seen their limited food supply from their simple crops, and it isn’t as if they have much meat either because they have so little livestock. Seijuurou is sure that he needs to leave soon, but something is holding him back.

“Akashi-kun, thank you for helping me with my chores,” a soft voice suddenly says, shaking Seijuurou from his thoughts. He looks up and sees Kuroko approaching him, a small smile on his face. Seijuurou shakes his head, noting that Kuroko has dirt on his cheek.

“It’s the least I can do. Also, you have some dirt on your cheek,” he teases, watching as Kuroko frowns at him and then wipes both of his cheeks with the back of his gloves. He manages to wipe the dirt away like that, so Seijuurou doesn’t offer to help him.

“You don’t have to seem so pleased about it,” Kuroko says, a little irritated. Seijuurou chuckles; he always enjoys a little back-and-forth with Kuroko.

“I like to have my fun, Kuroko,” Seijuurou replies, smirking and crossing his arms. Kuroko’s eyebrow twitches, wings flapping slightly to match their owner’s irritation.

“I see,” he deadpans, unimpressed. Seijuurou chuckles again, shaking his head. He decides that’s enough teasing for now and nods his head in the direction of Kuroko and Mayuzumi’s home.

“Are we going back?” He asks, looking back at Kuroko. The annoyance (that wouldn’t be noticed by most) dissipates from his face as he nods.

“Yes, we already have food at home, so we don’t need to stop by the market. We should hurry and eat and go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day,” Kuroko comments, tilting his head as if he’s listening to the buzz inside the tree. Seijuurou’s seen him do this several times, but he’s not sure if he can discern anything or not.

Seijuurou lifts an eyebrow curiously. “What’s tomorrow?”

Kuroko smiles a mysterious little smile and shakes his head. “You’ll see tomorrow. Let’s go home.” As if without thinking, Kuroko reaches out and takes Seijuurou’s hand, pulling him along the path back to his home. Seijuurou lets it go without saying anything, finding that he’s enjoying being guided by Kuroko.

Halfway there, though, Kuroko lets go of Seijuurou’s hand as if it’s on fire, but he doesn’t say why he did so. Seijuurou just smiles and continues to follow him closely.

The backs of Kuroko’s ears are red.

Kuroko and Mayuzumi wake at dawn, which in turns means Seijuurou wakes at dawn, though he usually does. They all eat a single piece of rationed bread for their breakfast and then leave the house. Neither brother has said a word, and Seijuurou hasn’t tried to start a conversation, so everything has been quiet. Seijuurou is curious about what today is.

Everyone else is also flooding onto the paths, chattering quietly amongst themselves. Seijuurou catches a few mentions of ‘flight,’ but he isn’t sure what to make of that, since mostly everyone here is a bird hybrid. Kuroko stays close to Mayuzumi, who looks both agitated and reluctant, and keeps glancing down at Kuroko every few seconds. Kuroko himself seems unaffected, looking as neutral as ever.

Seijuurou realizes that everyone is going outside. ‘Everyone’ being forty-one people, as Seijuurou has discovered in his stay here. He’s met every person who lives here in his visit, and they all seem like good people. Most seem tired, but they never complain about this life they were basically forced into.

When they emerge, it’s nearly completely dark outside, due to the usual heavy fog and it being dawn. Most of the group break off and start to scale the tree, but Seijuurou notices a few staying on the ground, stretching their limbs. He can discern one big difference between the two groups.

The ones climbing the tree have wings. The ones on the ground don’t.

Seijuurou notices Kuroko and Mayuzumi scaling the tree. In a split-second decision, he decides to follow them, and neither tell him not to. Some people stop at lower branches while others climb higher. Kuroko stops at a lower branch, but it’s still relatively high up. Mayuzumi ruffles his hair affectionately and then leans down to whisper something to him before going higher. Seijuurou decides to stay by Kuroko.

“Today is our monthly day of the hunt,” Kuroko starts without preamble, dark eyes piercing through the fog. Seijuurou wonders if he can see anything through it. With the way Seijuurou has seen him move through the fog, he assumes so. “Everyone goes off to hunt the animals that have strayed into our territory. Flying is the best option—animals on the ground don’t notice you coming through the fog. However, hunting from the ground is effective as well, as long as you utilize the fog to your advantage and are fast enough to kill them before they notice you.”

A small crease appears in Kuroko’s brow. “Because we were only forced to do this after the fire, I’ve never been on a hunt before. I know I wouldn’t enjoy killing the animals, but somehow… I feel sad. Perhaps it’s because I’m being left behind by everyone,” he muses, sitting down. Seijuurou sits down next to him, silent. “I sit here and wait for them to get back. It’s lonely and cold, but… I wait here, every time.” The emotion in his eyes is distinctly sadness, but he’s smiling softly, which somehow makes his entire countenance seem… more depressed.

Seijuurou opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. Realizing it’s the first time he’s been speechless, he sits in muted surprise for a moment. He’s never not known what to say. He always has something prepared.

Kuroko… is full of surprises.

Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, Seijuurou says, softly, “I saw carcasses of dead animals when I was making my way here on that first day. Is that from…?”

Kuroko blinks in surprise, but he quickly shakes his head. “No, it’s not,” he replies, voice just as soft as Seijuurou’s, or even softer. “There are scavengers in the area who do that. Everyone brings back their catches, and we split it among ourselves.” Kuroko shoulders hunch inward a little as he looks down as if ashamed. “Chihiro-nii-san always hunts more so that the split isn’t unfair because of me. I wish there was something I could do to help, but the animals always notice my wings before I can get close to them because of—” Kuroko wiggles his wings a little, and they make a scraping noise when they inevitably hit each other. Kuroko sighs. “I’m unable to hold them completely still, as well, so they always hear me.”

Seijuurou absorbs all this information quietly, observing Kuroko. Kuroko is just watching as everyone takes off from their respective branches, spreading their wings and flying into the fog. His eyes follow Mayuzumi’s figure long after he’s disappeared into the fog, and Seijuurou wonders how far he can watch him go.

He decides then.

“Wait here,” Seijuurou commands, standing up. Kuroko looks up at him in surprise, but Seijuurou ignores his calls after him, swiftly climbing down the tree.

Ah… the things he would do for Kuroko really do point to that, don’t they?

When Seijuurou reaches the bottom, he transforms into a dragon in a flash, encircling the tree as he stretches his limbs and wings. Even though he dislikes transforming into a dragon, he’s used to this form, even if he hasn’t used it in some years now. He flaps his red wings once, twice, and then takes off, circling around the tree. When he makes it to Kuroko’s level, he swerves away from the tree, hovering at a distance but still close enough for Kuroko to see.

Kuroko is on his feet, eyes wide as he gazes at Seijuurou in shock. Seijuurou huffs out some smoke, staring him right in the eye. “A—Akashi-kun…?” He asks, hesitantly. When Seijuurou snorts in confirmation, Kuroko looks amazed. “I… don’t know what to say…”

Seijuurou feels a rush of pride at his speechlessness and slides up next to the tree, offering Kuroko a place between his wings. “Is it really okay?” Kuroko wonders, voice almost disbelieving. Seijuurou grunts impatiently; there’s only so long he can hover like this. As if sensing that, Kuroko scrambles onto his back, finding handholds in some of the looser scales on Seijuurou’s back. Seijuurou hopes he’s hanging on tightly, but even if he falls, Seijuurou won’t exactly have a problem catching him.

Seijuurou takes off at a roaring speed, and he barely catches Kuroko’s surprised yelp as he hangs on for dear life. Seijuurou goes a little slower but still incredibly fast. Flying is one of the few things he enjoys about transforming into a dragon, so whenever he transforms, he takes the opportunity to fly as fast as he wants. However, since he has a passenger this time, he decides to take it slower, even if it’s only a small amount.

He flies at a high enough altitude where he’s confident that he won’t run into any of the hunters; although, they may hear him soaring by above them. Honestly, he isn’t particularly concerned about that. All he’s thinking about is where he wants to take Kuroko.

He already knows where he’s going.

It isn’t long before they’re out of the fog and Seijuurou sees a familiar line of mountains looming before them. Seijuurou heads for the summit, and it only takes a few minutes to arrive. There’s easily enough room for him to land, and he does so in a tight circle, laying down his neck so that Kuroko can hop off easier. Kuroko slowly and shakily makes his way down, looking a bit pale in the face. Seijuurou feels apologetic, but since he’s unable to communicate that, he just huffs softly.

Kuroko looks up at him, and surprisingly, it isn’t fear in his eyes but awe. “I’m not sure of how to express it, but… you’re just as amazing as I’ve always imagined dragons to be,” Kuroko breathes, openly amazed. This is perhaps the first time Seijuurou has ever seen him clearly express his emotions. He knows he should feel flattered, but he can’t help but feel as if Kuroko is awed over something normal. Anyone that’s a dragon could have impressed Kuroko like this, and that somehow leaves a sour taste in Seijuurou’s mouth. Still, there isn’t really anything that makes him better than other dragon hybrids, so he settles for a sigh, closing his eyes as he transforms back into a human.

“Never mind me,” he reprimands, shaking out his limbs. They always feel a bit… odd after transforming into a dragon. Seijuurou gestures out to the scenery before them. “How do you like the view?”

Kuroko seems caught off-guard by the question, and he turns around. Before them stretches the deep green of the forests, and the crystal blue of the river that snakes around the mountain. Further are green fields and towns, and the rays of light just peeking over the horizon cast a soft glow over everything, making it seem ethereal.

Kuroko’s eyes widen, but he says nothing. As he stares at the horizon, speechless, Seijuurou decides that he’s satisfied, so he just stands there with him, watching as the sun slowly rises.

“I haven’t seen the sun in… years,” Kuroko whispers. Seijuurou pretends not to notice the tears in the corners of his eyes and hums in content.

“I thought you might enjoy this,” he says, honestly. A small, trembling smile makes its way onto Kuroko’s face, and that.

That, really, makes all this trouble worth it.

Really, this behavior is so uncharacteristic of me.

“… Thank you. Thank you for bringing me here,” Kuroko whispers, voice cracking a little. Seijuurou wonders what this strange feeling in his chest is. “We’re all afraid to leave. We’re afraid of being chased away again, hunted down with swords and spears… But up here, with you, I feel safe. It’s the first time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Kuroko lets out a tiny, watery laugh, leaning against Seijuurou’s shoulder. Seijuurou is surprised, but he doesn’t move. “I’m happy. Thank you.”

This feeling that’s connected to Kuroko—now is when Seijuurou realizes it’s dangerous. Because for Kuroko, Seijuurou knows he would do things he wouldn’t do for anyone else. The things he would do for Kuroko, who he’s only known for just a month, are things he wouldn’t do for people he’s known for years.

He supposes he can safely put a name to this feeling now.

Seijuurou nudges Kuroko slightly, catching his attention. When Kuroko turns his face up to Seijuurou, he lowers his own, their lips coming dangerously close to touching. Seijuurou stares into Kuroko’s surprised eyes, waiting patiently.

Understanding the silent question, Kuroko’s ears flush red, but he holds his reaction well. He gazes up at Seijuurou for a long moment, obviously struggling to make a decision. When Seijuurou is about to move away, Kuroko lifts his head, just a little.

Seijuurou smiles, and leans down to kiss him softly.

It’s simple, but means more to Seijuurou than any other kiss he’s shared in his many, many years of living.

He supposes that would scare anyone else, but Seijuurou has never been afraid once in his life.

He doesn’t plan to start being afraid now.

When they break apart, Kuroko seems flustered, but he manages to pull himself together, seeming to be fighting a frown. “But… you’ll be going home soon, won’t you?” He asks, voice even, but Seijuurou can detect the traces of disappointment behind his cover. Seijuurou looks out at the horizon, and then looks around at the summit of the place he’s called home for most of his life.

Seijuurou looks back at Kuroko and smiles. “I think it’s time for a change of scenery,” he says, simply. Pausing, he adds, “That is, if you’ll have me.”

Kuroko smiles—a full smile, unlike the small smiles he’s always given Seijuurou. He wraps his arms around Seijuurou’s neck, bringing him down so that their foreheads are touching. “Of course I will,” he laughs, eyes shining happily. Seijuurou smiles back at him, closing his eyes.

This has never felt like home, anyway.

“Then, let’s do this. I’ll go hunt for some food while you explore nearby. When we have enough, we’ll take it all home, and I’ll give you a ride again. How does that sound?”

Kuroko leans up to kiss Seijuurou.

That’s enough of an answer for him.

Seijuurou finds integration into the village simple due to already having lived there for a month previous. Mayuzumi isn’t exactly a fan of Seijuurou’s, but he loves Kuroko, so Mayuzumi tolerates Seijuurou for Kuroko’s sake. Seijuurou manages to build his own house with the help of some of the others, so he lives there instead of with the two brothers, but Kuroko comes over frequently enough for it not to matter.

As time goes on, the fog begins to recede, until it disappears completely. Kuroko speculates that it may have to do with Seijuurou—the fog only appeared when the land was burned and all communication with the other territories fell off. Kuroko says that since they began talking with Seijuurou, and since Seijuurou opened up a small communication channel with some friendlier villages from Rakuzan, maybe that’s why the fog finally lifted.

Seijuurou isn’t sure himself of what caused the fog to lift, but he’s grateful it’s gone. Since the fog lifted, life has been returning to this land, little by little. Plants have finally started growing with plenty of assistance from the villagers, and the land doesn’t seem as bleak as it used to.

“Thank you for coming here to find out the truth about our territory,” Kuroko—or, Tetsuya now, to Seijuurou—mumbles one night, when they’re both about to fall asleep. Seijuurou tightens his embrace around Tetsuya briefly, ignoring his wings scraping against his arms.

Seijuurou shakes his head, smiling dryly. “I was only doing what I would normally do. I would have never imagined it would lead to this,” he admits, resting his chin on top of Tetsuya’s head.

“But it did,” Tetsuya points out, poking him in his ribs. Seijuurou chuckles.

“Yes, you’re right.”

Seijuurou pauses, and then sighs, closing his eyes.

“I’m grateful I decided to come here, too. I think my life would have continued on in boredom until I finally died if I hadn’t.”

“That’s morbid,” Tetsuya comments, lightly. Seijuurou scoffs.

“I suppose.”

“… Honestly, I think the same thing of my own life.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose it really is a good thing that I came here, hm?” Seijuurou notes, teasing. Tetsuya pulls out from under his chin, wrinkling his nose at him.

“Yes, but you don’t have to be so smug about it,” he rebuts, poking Seijuurou again, this time in his cheek. Seijuurou rolls his eyes, chuckling.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go to sleep,” Seijuurou prompts. Tetsuya tucks himself under Seijuurou’s chin again, yawning.

“Can we go up the mountain tomorrow?”

Seijuurou smiles.

“Always.”

He never would have thought that he would be so grateful to have met a single person. But, even in all his years of living, he supposes that’s just because he had never experienced love before.

Really, he’s become soft recently.

But, looking at the man sleeping next to him, he doesn’t hate it at all.

Omake:

Sometime later, Tetsuya’s wings grow out their feathers again. Tetsuya’s feathers are a beautiful pure white color, which, surprisingly, no one else in the village has. Tetsuya has an odd number of down feathers but is still able to fly, but the many down feathers make his wings soft to the touch.

Understandably, Seijuurou was fascinated with them when they first grew in, but Tetsuya quickly grew tired of Seijuurou touching his soft feathers.

“Please stop touching my feathers. It’s annoying.”

“Sorry.”

“You didn’t stop.”

“…”

Tetsuya proceeded to kick Seijuurou away and hide behind Mayuzumi for the rest of the day.

well cheesy end is cheesy end, omake is...the usual I guess. I hope you enjoyed the fic Moonie ;w; I also hope it didn’t feel too rushed? Honestly I could have kept going to make it not feel as rushed, but I tried to compact it as much as possible so it didn’t become a monster of a one-shot while still making it feel complete. I don’t know how well that went ><

Umm, not many notes here. I took liberties with the world and everything as usual. Ah, and since there was no good place to put this in, if anyone was curious, Mayuzumi and Kuroko are half-brothers. Mayuzumi’s father was from Rakuzan, Kuroko’s father was from Seirin, and their mother was born in the territory they lived in. Now that I think about it....maybe some of you assumed that.....Also, if you prefer featherless Kuroko, you can pretend the omake didn’t happen. It was mostly for humorous purposes honestly.

If you’ve read up to here, I commend you for being able to read through my (as always) long author’s note. Again, happy Valentine’s Day everyone! I hope everyone had/has a great day!