#brought to you by the ‘put that loaf the FUCK DOWN’ I had to yell before the damn thing even cooled

[mommalosthermind]

My favorite part of making anything bread related from scratch is how it summons my middle kid from thin fucking air and then I have to slap a slice or whatever into his hands and hide the rest before the Bread Fae claims the entire goddamn thing for himself

[luv4fandoms]

One chip challenge with Paul

This just popped into my head as I was eating flaming hot Cheetos lol. In this the vamps can still get affected by spicy stuff (idk if they can in the movies but I'd assume they would be immune to stuff like that)

You watched as Paul emptied the bag into the couch, a carton of milk, a small tub of ice cream, a loaf of bread, two water bottles, and lastly...Two one chip challenge packages.

"Ok who's up for the challenge?!" Paul asked, hands on hips as he looked at the group. David simply rolled his eyes, Dwayne went back to what he had been doing prior, hell even Marko noped out, which shocked both you and Paul cause you both figured Marko would be up for the challenge.

"Awe come on! It'll be fun!" Paul tried to convince someone. You both looked around the group once more but still no one stepped up.

"y'all are no fun" Paul pouted, turning to put the stuff away. You knew you would regret this later, after all, you were only human and surely that meant your stomach wasn't as tough as his but...You hated seeing him sad.

"I'll do it" you spoke while standing from your spot on the fountain edge, Paul spun around quickly, a huge smile on his face.

"Y/N" David warned, he knew you were putting your body at risk just for Paul's entertainment...but he also knew that Paul had you wrapped around his finger, everyone knew...Except Paul.

"I'll be fine" you replied, grabbing one of the boxes and sitting down on the couch.

"come on, let's get this hell over with" you sighed, watching as Paul put everything on the floor and joined you on the couch, ripping into his own box and pulling out the blue chip, the smell was already burning your nose and you knew this was gonna suck so much.

"you so owe me" you laughed before tapping your chips together.

"bottoms up" he grinned before both of you shoved the chips in your mouths. Instantly your brain wanted you to spit it out, the intense heat sparking every pain receptor you had as it seared into your tongue, you chewed quickly, even if that seemed to make it worse. By now Marko was laughing while David and Dwayne just shook their heads. You could already feel your nose begin to run and your eye water as the spice hit your stomach, the lurching feeling already starting as well, your stomach acid not agreeing with the chip. Paul though, didn't look any better as he hissed through his teeth, leg bouncing as he tried to fight off the pain. You tried to focus on anything but the pain that was eating you alive, the cave walls, every piece of art that Marko had made that hung against the old wallpaper, the odd trinkets the boys brought home. By now Paul was leaning heavily against the back of the couch eyes closed and both legs bouncing as he tried to fight off the pain, a groan coming from him as he rubbed his face with his clean hand. You wiped your eyes on your jacket, sweat dripping down your neck and forehead, time seeming to drag on as you sat in agony. God you wanted this to be over, why did you have to do this? Why did you seem to always find yourself in these stupid situations just to appease him?...oh...right...love makes you do stupid shit.

"FUCK I CAN'T!" You heard him yell before watching as he dove for the milk, knowing it was over now you ran and quickly opened the bread, shoving a couple pieces towards him before biting into one yourself.

"Milk only coats the tongue, this will help absorb it off" you told him, watching as he nodded before stuffing the bread in his mouth, sighing a bit as the heat began to ebb. You ate your pieces before taking a quick sip of milk, then moving onto a water bottle. Sitting down on the couch again you sighed out as the pain began to subside.

"I honestly didn't think you'd hold on that long" Marko laughed while handing you a paper towel to wipe your eyes and nose.

"I didn't think I would either, I mean I like spicy stuff but holy fuck I'm never doing that again" you told him, sniffling as you finished off your water. You felt the couch dip beside you, this time much closer. Looking over you noticed Paul with the tub of ice cream, and watched as he ate a giant spoonful before holding the now empty spoon out to you. Shaking your head with a laugh you took it and grabbed a spoonful yourself, the coolness providing relief to your burning lips.

"Well that was fun" he laughed.

"Oh my God" you groaned, handing him the spoon again.

"Fun isn't what I'd call that" you laughed.

"Awe I'd like to think that was a fun bonding experience" he spoke around a mouthful of ice cream.

"One" you started, reaching under his chin to close his mouth.

"And two, I'm never doing anything stupid like that again" you state, even though both of you knew it was a lie, you knew you'd do stupid shit with him if it made him smile, and he...well he thought you just had a daredevil streak.

"I'm sure I can persuade you" he smiled, causing you to just roll your eyes, though a grin tugged on your lips.

"So...you won" he stated after a moment.

"Not by much, I was about to give up" you laughed.

"Awe don't tell me that! I don't wanna think that if I would have just held on" he pouted.

"Sorry Paulie"

"Eh it's ok...But I am wondering...Do I get a runner up prize?"

"There were only two of us" you laughed.

"So! I tried my best, that's gotta count for something right?" He asked, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Come on Y/N" he spoke, and you knew looking down into those eyes was a bad idea but you did it anyways and...yup...bad idea.

"Fine" you sighed

"what do you want?"

"A kiss" his quick reply caused your brain to short circuit for a moment...surely he hadn't said what you thought he just said. But looking around the room you noticed the shit eating grins on the other's faces and yup...yup he said that.

"A-A kiss?" You confirmed, watching as he lifted his head, getting on eye level with you.

"Just one" he smiled.

"Um...O-Ok sure" you spoke, hating yourself for stuttering, though you were sure he could hear your heart racing, hell you knew they all could. You watched as he started to lean in, your eyes closing on their own before you felt the cold chill of his lips on yours, the feeling better than the coolness of the ice cream, though now they burned for a different reason. But just as you began to lose yourself in the sensation, you felt him begin to pull back, your lips chasing his for a moment before your eyes slowly opened, being met with a shit eating grin...Oh you were so fucked.

Hope everyone enjoyed! For time ever writing for any of the lost boys lol

[zaenight]

Part 3 of Perro/Oc Tw : a bit of light racism(?), its samdino.

The next day...

-----------

Alvarez had came to visit...

The girls already there at the clubhouse.

"Marcus." Sage said as the two hugged , Jess also hugged him.

"Doc , niñita , how has it been , I trust Primo and the boys have treated you with respect." He said.

"Its been great , it's like home , besides the constant betrayls and killing eachother off!" Jess chirped speaking about the sons.

"It's been wonderful Marcus , thank you again , for everything." Sage said rolling her eyes at jess.

----------

Angel , coco , and ez reached the clubhouse , Jess was currently playing tic tac toe with one of the guys marcus brought.

Meanwhile Sage went over to Ez dragging him over , her fasination with the prospect wasn't unnoticed by the guys.

"Padrino." Angel said to him ,  he was greeted,as the two bro hugged,coco then being greeted.

"Where's gilly?" Bishop questioned.

"Stayed on the other side , sticking around until creeper's out of the woods." Angel said.

"It's your bitch Jess!" Jess exclaimed in a slightly deeper tone after she won another round of tic tac toe.

"What?" She blinked as the men stared at her , While Sage shook her head , hand to forhead , oh Jess her sweet little sister , a fucking lie , she'll turn into the spawn of satan in a second.

"El hermano menor , the new prospect." Hank said Putting a hand on Ez's shoulder , who went over to Alvarez holding out his hand.

(the younger brother)

"Ez." He said to alvarez , who placed keys in his hands , Sage snickered a bit , grabbing a beer from the bar.

"Gas it up and detail it , I don't want to see a speck of dust ,huh? , and my guys too" Alvarez said to the Man.

"Yes sir." Ez said as Sage got up to follow , One thing she enjoys , watching prospects work their asses off.

The guys Going into the templo , Angel looks back at Ez , who shook his head with a smile.

Jess pouted until she got distracted with a game on her phone.

Sage dragged Ez outside so she could watch him clean and gas up the bikes.

"What're you looking at?" She asked , Ez held a pendant

saying Mi familia, mi roca .

"C'mon let's gas up and clean the bikes , before they come out." Sage said holding out her hand.

"You mean You'll watch as I do all the work." Ez stated with a smirk , as Sage laughed .

"Exactly." She stated.

The guys left the templo , deciding what to do about the samoans , Alvarez calling SamDino to back them up.

"niñita, What's your sister's relationship with the prospect?" Alvarez asked the younger sister.

"I don't know yet , But she hasn't laughed or smiled like that since - well you know , You know she puts on a tough , barely no emotion facade , but really she's hurting , She doesn't know , but I hear her cry every night  , until Ez , I haven't seen a smile like that on her face in a very long time , But I don't think she'll love anyone as much as She loved Esai." Jess said as Alvarez nodded in thanks.

-------------

They rode into samoan territory , The two girls in the back of the truck , as they split up going into the cemetary.

and then gunshots fired as Riz drove the van , the girls laid down on the floor of the van as bullets fired through the air , handing angel a gun from the back.

-----------

The samoans drove off but they had tricks up their sleeve.

"Bishop , Reaper has landed!"

Sage exclaimed as Riz grabbed guns .

They rode and blocked them off , they were done for.

The girls got out of the truck , they were also seen as mediators between the two clubs , sort of , if it came down to it , they would have to choose a side.

Bishop and taza took their guns away from them.

"Well boys , looks like we got us a samoan sandwhich ,Two tons of dark meet jammed between a stack of tortillas , and a loaf of white bread." Packer yelled as the Sons laughed.

"You haven't changed a bit Old man." Sage said rolling her eyes , After checking the boys for injuries , her and Jess going up to him , along with bishop.

"Little Sera , Baby Jessie look at you two , You've grown up." Packer said as the two girls hugged him.

"Appreciate the help brother." Bishop said hugging him , as the girls moved .

"Anytime , Amigo , you boys better treat these girls here with respect , or the reapers gonna come knocking!" Packer said walking off as the rode off.

The girls laugh , walking back to the boys who were looking at them.

------------

"You meet her?" Galindo questioned Afa.

The club and two girls were watching as the man

interrogated the samoan .

Sage would have had him talking already , but she knows who it is , couldn't risk anything.

"Never in Person , she'd give us a call or a text , gave us a drop point." Afa stated.

"Where?" Miguel questioned as Sage sighed leaning against a wall.

"Indio Quarry , we used Proxies to drop off the drugs , pick up the cash,never saw a face,no names." Afa said.

"Found this in your jeep , payment?" Miguel questioned , holding a familiar bag , Gilly , coco , , angel , and the girls looked at eachother , to the others it looked like they were wondering what it is , to Ez , he felt somthing off about their glances , It was the bag Gilly had earlier that day.

"She didn't tell us it was the cartel , I swear." Afa said.

----------------

[justmelagain]

The Last Pan of Dressing

Dressing is my favorite food group. No, it’s not the same as “stuffing.” All black women and rural Southern white women know how to make it — everyone else just attempts it.

Consistency-wise, it should be like finely crumbled cornbread (not shredded loaf bread) near-soupy in chicken or turkey juice, with chopped onions and egg-whites and tiny chunks of chicken or turkey. I like to put it in a bowl and pour milk over it and get it piping hot in the microwave. 

The four main grocery chains in my area are Walmart, Kroger, Publix, and Ingles.

That’s in the order of the most-used to the least-used.

It’s not surprising that Ingles is more popular among conservative evangelicals. It’s headquartered in 85% white Asheville and proudly emblazons “AMERICAN OWNED” over every door of every store.

Because the South is genteel and religious, a lot of things are spoken in code. By now everyone knows “Let’s Go Brandon” is code for “Fuck Joe Biden.” This one came about accidentally as the NASCAR audience was chanting “Fuck Joe Biden” and a NASCAR official tried to cover for it by claiming they were actually saying “Let’s Go Brandon” in reference to a NASCAR driver named Brandon.

When President Biden held a mass phone call with kids who called in to find out the progress of Santa’s trip, the father of one child yelled, Let’s Go Brandon” on the group call and is now trying to parlay his newfound stardom among evangelicals into a run for political office.

Evangelicals would never cuss but they will substitute-cuss and giggle like a third-grader who just got away with eating a booger.

What a lot of people don’t know is “Fuck Joe Biden” was ALREADY code. Do you think Confederate-evangelicals really hate an old white man? Of course not.

“Fuck Joe Biden” stands for many things: *Jews will not replace us; *We need to ship all the foreigners back home; *I’m tired of my hard-earned white money being stolen from me to support black people who won’t work. 

There are other codes among white people in the South. “That area has gotten really bad” means black people have moved in. “Don’t go through that area after dark; you’d be in a mess if you had a flat tire” refers to a black neighborhood. “That store has really gone down” means a lot of black people are now shopping there.

I love dressing. My second favorite food group is Brunswick stew, another dish that can’t be replicated outside the South.

But dressing is my favorite. My Granny Omie used to make the best there was when I was a kid. My former mother-in-law actually beat that during the happiest 20 years of my life. She would often make a second pan just for me to take home after the big family gatherings on Easter and Thanksgiving and Christmas. So I understand the trauma of someone beating me to the last pan of dressing. I really do.

But this was not about dressing.

This was code for something much bigger and deeper.

One of my old classmates from my high school recently posted this: “The Carrollton Ingles needs to overhaul and revamp their Customer Service in the Deli Department (possibly replace a few employees) and the so called Non-Caring Manager needs to be replaced ASAP. I had an experience about a month ago. Went to get a few plates of dressing on a Sunday afternoon. I was told the pan of dressing was the last one they had and a fellow of color wanted some at the same time. I asked the lady to make sure I got mine first because I was ahead of him. Well after scraping the sides of the pan in order to get me 2 plates, low and behold they brought out a fresh pan of dressing for him. My damn BP went through the roof but I kept my mouth shut until I got to the counter to pay and then I brought up what happened. They said they would adjust the bill but I went ahead and paid for it. About 45 minutes ago I went out there one more time after work to get a couple of plates for me and my mother. I just had got to the Deli and looking at what choices I had. At that point, no Deli employ recognized that I was around. About that time a man of color walked between me and the Deli counter as though I wasn’t even around. The woman of color turned around to help the man of color and didn’t say a word to me. BP boiling once again. Luckily I kept my mouth shut not to embarrass anyone and went to find the pot-bellied store manager who expressed no concern whatsoever. Last time dealing with this disgusting place. Piss poor customer service in the Deli and very piss poor response from the manager. I just don’t and won’t get it.”

I’ll give you a minute.

Jesus.

And bear in mind, neither the hand that wrote this or all the eyes that read it have any idea that there is anything at all wrong with what was said here.         He even thought he was accommodating the latest politically-correct jargon by saying “man of color;” as proud of himself as a third grader eating a booger. Brother, if you’re now reading this, “of color” encompasses black people, Latinos, Native Americans, Asians, and anyone else who is non-white — the term you were looking for is “black.”

Notice he wasn’t at all empathetic over the thought of the black man not getting ANY dressing. And he was just fine with his own dressing being scrapings from the sides of the pan, AS LONG AS he thought those scrapings were the very last of the dressing and he “got his first” and the black man didn’t get any.

He was only upset when a fresh pan was located and his “me first” greed had already filled his own plate with sub-par scrapings.

His blood pressure was boiling because the black man had ended up with the better dressing that he, in his whiteness, felt HE deserved.

I can say, with no doubt whatsoever, if I had been in his shoes and knew the black man beside me wanted dressing too, I would have turned to him and said, “you wanna split what’s left?” and then told the Deli clerk to give each of us a plate of the scrapings, instead of me getting two plates of scrapings and him getting none.

And in this particular case, I would have been rewarded by the discovery of a fresh pan of dressing, so I and the black man would have both received one plate of scrapings and one plate of fresh dressing.

I do that sort of thing all the time. The Golden Corral buffet I go to almost nightly has about a 90% black customer base. If I am at the bar dipping food onto my plate, there is usually a black person behind me waiting for the ladle.

I love fried chicken, especially dark meat, especially legs. If I’m at the chicken tray and I see some black children behind me, I will skip over the legs I really want and get a thigh because I have, many times, heard parents explaining to disappointed children that there are no more legs.

Yesterday I went by Golden Corral and made three to-go New Year’s Day plates to take to my parents. We had black-eyed peas, turnip greens, chicken livers, cornbread and raw purple onions.

But a similar thing happened. There were three pieces of cornbread on the bar. I needed all three. But a black woman was behind me, so I only got two and left the third. I was rewarded by the man behind the counter asking if I needed more. He brought out a fresh cake of cornbread, sliced it like pizza and drizzled clarified butter on it.

I’ve gone to that Ingles in Carrollton twice since I read that post. First times I had ever been in the store.

It was clean and well-lit and items arranged immaculately on the shelves.

And in despair I bowed my head "There is no peace on earth," I said For hate is strong and mocks the song Of peace on earth, good will to men.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote these words when his son was terribly injured fighting for the North in the Civil War.

This is what caused the Civil War.

This is what caused the Confederacy to rise again beginning with the election of Barack Obama.

This is what led to the election of Trump.

This is what led to the Insurrection a year ago.

Hate.

It both defines and mocks evangelicalism.

It’s right in front of us, in black and white. 

The Great White Fear is “the blacks are taking over.”

EVERYTHING else, is in some way related to that fear.

All the way down to the last pan of dressing.

- Cree Hardegree

[iatethepomegranate]

A fic in which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and learns how to be a person.

Chapter Summary: The sands of time stop for no one, and the Nein eventually go back to their separate lives. Caleb grapples with the responsibilities of his new position, invents the support group, and Astrid gives him some rather unsettling news.

Notes: Caleb and Essek's scene together is a little spicy, but not explicit. Chapter title is from In the Embers by Sleeping At Last.

*** Chapter 5: Like fireworks we pull apart the dark

Caleb was smiling when he got back home. Veth aimed her crossbow at him.

“Quick! Tell me something only Caleb would say!”

Caleb sighed and held up his hands in surrender; he should have expected this. “You almost inscribed a rune upside-down today. I lent you my spellbook.”

“I don’t know, man,” said Beauregard, lounging across Yasha on the couch and completely fucking with them. “An imposter could’ve interrogated Caleb and forced him to recount his day. Caleb is pretty squishy.” Caleb almost reminded her he had been taught to withstand torture, which he’d first told explictly her while compiling his testimony for Trent’s trial, but he didn’t want to ruin her fun.

“Oh, that’s very smart,” Yasha said.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Say something else,” Veth demanded. “Something not from today. How did we meet?”

“In prison. You stole a bottle of cherry wine. I had Frumpkin retrieve a piece of wire so you could pick the lock and then I set the jail on fire and screamed for help. The guards ran away and we walked out. We have been best friends ever since. You were also a goblin at the time.”

“But wouldn’t an imposter have asked about Caleb’s known associates?” Fjord supplied.

“Fjord, I can and will burn your hair off. And, unlike Aeor, it will not grow back overnight.”

“Ha!” Veth put her crossbow away. “Welcome back. Sit down. Cad’s making tea again.” She dragged him over to the blanket nest that no one had bothered to put away, and shoved him in it.

Essek poked his head out of the kitchen. “How was your meeting?”

Caleb didn’t want to get into it. “I took the job.”

“Woo!” Jester yelled from the kitchen. She poked her head out, just next to Essek. “Did Astrid like the cookies?”

“Ja. She says thank you.” Caleb felt fine, except from the fact he was fucking exhausted. He tipped his head back, landing on Beau’s shin, and closed his eyes. “Uh, Beauregard? She says to look into Headmaster Zivan Margolin, who is also the Archmage of Conscription. He’s a link to Trent. A weak one. Apparently he has been running his mouth about how he saw my potential from the beginning. Ludinus is uncomfortable with the implication and may throw him to the wolves to save his own neck.”

“I’ll pass it onto Yudala tomorrow. Take a nap while we wait for dinner.”

“The head of your school is also in charge of conscription?” said Fjord. “Wait. You’ve said this before.”

“A long time ago, ja.”

“Look, I’m only a few months old,” said Kingsley, who had been sprawled behind the couch the whole time, apparently. “And even I know that’s kinda fucked up.”

“No shit.” Caleb was half-sleep already, eyes closed. A small body curled up against him. Veth.

“Caleb, that’s really awful,” said Jester. “I’m so sorry.”

“Jester, I appreciate that, and I love you very much, but I am exhausted and cannot talk about this anymore.”

Caduceus saved him by bringing a tea tray into the room. “Let’s all unwind for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Caleb drank half his tea and fell asleep on Beauregard, who had to kick him awake for dinner. Well had to was a strong way to put it. Regardless, he shoved some food in his face and then went to bed with Essek.

****

Astrid sent him tidbits of information as more details of his professorship were finalised. He would assist Professor Weber with the beginner and intermediate Transmutation classes. He would also assist Professor Winterheart with the beginner Evocation class, due to his experience. He would also be on call to assist with other classes as necessary.

What really shook Caleb, however, were Bettina’s plans for Advanced Transmutation. She told him herself over coffee in the ex-smut shop.

“Astrid has assured me of your capabilities,” she said, stirring sugar into her mug. “And she’s of the mind that the Advanced students may need your guidance the most. You may end up with a few former Volstrucker students, if we can get them back in class.”

“That is a big if.”

“Ja. Would you talk to Astrid about it? I don’t want to overstep.”

“It has been on my mind. I will talk to her.” If Caleb hadn’t been dead on his feet last time they had spoken, he probably would have brought it up. It would take time to track all of them down, and Caleb had not been in the right headspace to handle that kind of work previously. But things were more stable now, even if he cried at the drop of a hat these days.

“Danke. Now, Advanced Transmutation. The advanced students start on the third week of term, so you will have had some time to find your feet. I want you to take the lead with them.”

“Bitte?” Caleb wasn’t sure he understood what she was telling him.

“I want you to teach the advanced students,” Bettina clarified. “I will be on hand if you need, but I think you can handle it once you have a few classes under your belt.”

“Bettina, I have no experience.” Caleb was about three wrong words from hyperventilating. This was ridiculous. And irresponsible.

“I know that’s not true, Mr Widogast. Sorry, Professor Widogast.” The slip was deliberate. Bettina used his first name most of the time. She was making a point of his new title. “Astrid has spoken to your expositor friend, who said you have been teaching magic to one of your friends for over a year, and that you helped her run a summer camp for adventurers in Nicodranas. Expositor Lionett also insists you are very good with children.”

“My friend’s young son, specifically. He is not a difficult child.” Well, Luc was a handful for his parents, but Caleb didn’t have to worry about controlling him like they did. “And… advanced students are teenagers, not toddlers.”

“I understand this is a lot to ask,” Bettina said evenly. “I am asking because some of these children have been through a lot. My inaction, whatever the truth of it, will not instill confidence. You put Trent in prison. You were an adventurer. You can relate to them. Not only can you be a safe person for them, but you are interesting. Teenagers respond best to people who are genuine, and genuinely interesting. Even the children who have not been pulled into Trent’s web have just been through a war. Some of them may have lost family.”

“Bettina, I appreciate you are trying to explain your reasons, but it is not helping.”

“I will be there in class for as long as you need my help,” Bettina promised. “I will only leave when you are ready. I promise. You can ask for help at any time. I will help you with your lesson plans and give you all the advice I can. You will be fine. I would not suggest this if I thought you couldn’t handle it.”

****

Caleb went back home after his meeting with Bettina. He was still worried, but he was having a decent day overall, so it wasn’t overwhelming him at the moment. He stepped inside Beau and Yasha’s side of the house, the scent of freshly baked bread filling his nostrils. It was almost lunchtime.

Most of the Nein had gone home by now, except Essek and Caduceus. They were in the kitchen with Yasha, inspecting a fresh loaf of bread on the counter. The top of it was sprinkled with rolled oats.

“I think it worked,” Caduceus said. “Ah, Caleb. Rye bread? Does it look right to you?”

It smelled like the Vollkornbrot Caleb remembered from his childhood. “Ja. This looks close to what my mother used to make.”

Yasha and Caduceus high-fived over Essek’s head. Essek’s nose wrinkled a little bit in a moment of endearing, petty irritation. Yasha cut the bread into slices and constructed a sandwich to take to Beau, who was at the Archive. She buttered a slice and shoved it into her mouth before she rushed out the door.

Caleb sat with Essek and Caduceus. The latter finished serving up the bread with a generous spread of butter.

“Did you start this last night?” Caleb asked. It was chewy as intended and tasted like home, maybe a tiny bit saltier, but that was fine.

“Yeah,” replied Caduceus. “You were pretty out of it. We looped Essek in once you were out of the house this morning. This one seems doable for Yasha to make without us. You might have to help her.”

“I can do that.” He used to help his mother with the bread whenever he was home. The memories were not too painful today, just an ache.

“How was your meeting?” Essek asked. He had been hesitant to leave Rexxentrum until Caleb was a bit more settled, but the hourglass was almost drained of sand.

“Good, I think.” Caleb chewed, mulling the whole thing over. “Professor Weber is giving me her advanced transmutation students.”

“You look worried,” said Caduceus.

“I am. It’s a lot of responsibility. She thinks the older students need me the most. As a safe person. I was their age when I… when everything went to shit. She thinks we may have a few survivors of the program in the class, and other students will have lost family in the war.”

Essek’s shoulders slumped. He ate quietly.

“And the Professor doesn't think she can be that person?”

“She insists she didn’t know what Trent was doing, but she expects the survivors will only see the face of someone who didn’t help them.”

“That is very self-aware of her. Do you feel that way?”

“No. But I’m not seventeen years old.”

“True. Well, I think you have the tools to help the kids, if you feel up to it.”

“I… maybe. Bettina said she’ll help me in class until I don’t need her anymore.”

Caduceus nodded slowly, with a smile. “You’ll be great.”

****

Essek and Caduceus had dinner at the house, and intended to spend a few more hours there before teleporting to the Blooming Grove, where Essek would trance before heading off in the morning, only short of one big spell instead of two. Caleb almost wanted to ask him to burn a second spell to trance here instead, but he knew Essek found the Grove calming. And one of the few places he didn’t have to worry about the Dynasty or the Empire. Caleb wouldn’t take that from him.

But they had a bit of time, which Caleb and Essek spent in their room together. Caleb let a few of his dancing lights float around the space, so he could see Essek for the last time in who knew how long.

“You were better today,” Essek said softly, slowly unbuttoning Caleb’s shirt.

Caleb watched him concentrate on the buttons, memorising his tiny frown that also graced his face when focusing on intricate spellwork. “Being here is getting easier. Thank you for the bread.”

Essek chuckled softly. “I did very little.” He pushed Caleb’s shirt off his shoulders. “But I’m glad it made you happy.”

“The best bread is the kind made by someone I love.” He shivered a little in the cold. Essek pressed his lips to Caleb’s shoulder, remaining there as the seconds ticked away. Caleb got to work on Essek’s shirt, finding the strings on the back through sheer muscle memory. He picked the bow apart and slowly unravelled the lacing. He pulled Essek’s shirt over his head and kissed his collarbone.

They had a few more hours. Caleb intended to treasure every second Essek could give him.

Essek pulled Caleb’s ponytail free and ran his fingers through the braids he had made that morning until they twisted apart. He cradled Caleb’s head as they kissed. Vulnerability between them had been hard won, and now it was as easy as breathing. Easier, sometimes.

They separated, and Essek slowly dragged his thumb across Caleb’s lower lip. “I will message you every day I can.”

“You better. Or I will hunt you down.”

Essek smirked, and it did things to Caleb. “And if I misbehave? Will you give me detention, Professor?”

“Essek, I love you, but never say that again.” Caleb shut him up with another kiss. “I do not want one of my last memories of you to be… that.”

“Not so adventurous after all,” Essek teased.

“We are not bringing our professions into the bedroom. That will not go well for either of us.”

“Hmm.” Essek’s eyes were distant for a moment. “You are… not wrong. Whenever I hear the word Shadowhand, I think of my mother.”

“Could be worse,” Caleb said dryly.

Essek wrinkled his nose. “Yes. Well. That has killed the mood.”

“I can fix that. May I?”

Essek sat back on his hands, raising an eyebrow. “Do your worst.”

“Challenge accepted,” Caleb murmured. He shoved Essek onto his back, straddling his hips. Essek was a lot smaller than Caleb, though the force of his personality and his floating cantrip had once hidden that reality. Now, however… Caleb could keep Essek in place with his weight alone. And Essek liked it when he used that objective fact to their benefit.

Essek’s lips parted, and it took him ten seconds of shallow breaths to find his voice. “Challenge completed,” he said breathlessly.

“It’s one of my many skills, Liebchen.” Caleb knew his voice became extra husky when aroused, and he knew how much it broke Essek’s brain.

Essek opened his mouth again, but nothing came out except a soft, breathy laugh. He reached up and pulled Caleb’s hair until Caleb leaned down and kissed him hard. The throaty mmph noise from Essek was satisfying as fuck. It was very easy to get Essek aroused at the right moment. The harder part was finding that moment. He was sensitive to Caleb’s emotions, and it was hard for him to get in the mood if he had even the slightest inkling Caleb was not having a good day. For now, at least, it meant what sex they did have only happened under the best circumstances. It was a far cry from the last relationship Caleb had been in, where most of the sex had been after a bad day, all three of them on the brink of falling apart.

Caleb pulled back a little bit to lightly brush his fingernails across the sensitive skin of Essek’s lower abdomen, just above his remaining clothing. Essek’s breath hitched.

“Caleb. Please.” Essek was flushing red beneath the purple of his skin, turning it a lovely plum tone. Caleb kissed his stomach, and slowly undressed him like a long-anticipated present he was afraid to break. Essek squirmed beneath him, no matter how hard he tried to hold still to make the job easier.

“What do you want, Kätzchen?” Caleb said quietly, stroking the inside of Essek’s bare thigh. Caleb never used terms of endearment like this in casual conversation. He liked to save it for special moments, specifically because he knew it broke Essek’s brain very badly to be called things like kitten or sweetheart in Caleb’s own tongue.

Essek let out a shaky breath; his violet-blue eyes were half-lidded and he was out of his fucking mind. “I want… anything. Everything. You. I can’t think.”

“I know,” Caleb said, sliding off the bed, just out of Essek’s reach. “I like it that way.” He slowly unfastened his pants, watching Essek twitch in a half-aborted attempt to move closer to him. “Stay right there.” He let them drop, kicked them aside, finished undressing. He lingered out of reach until Essek bit his lip, gazing up at him with a silent plea. Only then did Caleb climb back onto the bed, settling between Essek’s shaking legs. “Let me take care of you, ja?”

Caleb caught Essek’s lips in a messy, breathless kiss as their bodies fit together at long last.

Later, they lay together under the covers. Caleb had extinguished his lights. Essek could see him perfectly well. Caleb had almost left the lights on so he could drink in Essek’s features for a little while longer, but he was sluggish and borderline mindless from his most recent orgasm. He would rather spend what little concentration he had on running his fingers across Essek’s features so he had a few more memories to keep him warm until they could meet again.

“I will stay until you fall asleep,” Essek said softly. “Then, I will message you tomorrow after I leave the Grove.”

Caleb hummed quietly, not trusting his voice beyond that. This goodbye was hard every time.

“I’m proud of you, Caleb.” Essek kissed him, and then pressed their foreheads together. “You will be an incredible teacher. You already are.” Caleb swallowed against a lump in his throat. He was not going to cry. He was not going to make this harder for Essek than it needed to be.

Somehow, he managed to find his voice. “I finally had a good example.”

Essek chuckled softly. “That may be the one thing in my life I did right.”

“It’s an important thing you did right, but not the only one.” Caleb found his hand, twining their fingers together. His grip would slacken in sleep, letting Essek extract himself without too much difficulty.

“I try to remember that. Thank you. Get some sleep.”

Caleb didn’t want to close his eyes, knowing Essek wouldn’t be there in the morning. But Essek had to leave sometime, and he was giving Caleb every moment he could spare. So Caleb closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillow.

“I love you, Essek.”

“I love you, Caleb.”

Sometimes they didn’t need to say it. It was always true, whether or not they put it into words. Tonight, however, they both felt just a little more fragile, a little more vulnerable, and the words helped.

And then Caleb slept. The last thing he remembered was Essek’s fingers dancing sweetly in his hair.

****

Waking alone, Caleb tried not to be too dour in the morning, but given Yasha kept trying to find things around the house to keep him busy, he was clearly not doing a good job. He had to meet with Astrid (and probably Wulf) later in the day to discuss work some more, and he needed to bring up the Volstrucker survivors. Maybe Astrid had already been working on contacting them, but it wasn’t clear. It needed to be.

For now, however, he let Yasha drag him out to the garden. He liked having his hands in the soil, coaxing life out of the earth. After dealing so much death in this world, it was nice to put life back into it. He knew Yasha felt the same. It also let him reminisce about some of his less painful memories of home. Planting green beans with his mother.

It was also a little easier to bask in the afterglow of last night out here in the sun.

“Did you have a good time last night?” Yasha asked. Caleb was glad Beauregard was already at work. She wouldn’t tease him, but he knew she would have to restrain herself.

“Ja,” Caleb said quietly.

“He’s soft with you. It’s lovely.” She watched him, and she saw a little too well. “You miss him.”

“A lot, ja.”

“You’re good for each other,” she said. “I’m glad you have him, even if it’s not all the time.”

Caleb knew his smile was incredibly sad, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Me too.”

Essek’s Sending reached him in that moment. “Hello, love. I have arrived at my destination in one piece. A little further away than intended, but unharmed. How’s your morning?” A slight pause. “I love you.” Ah, he’d realised he had three words left.

Full of warmth from the sun and Essek’s word economy, Caleb responded, “Hallo, Essek. Glad you are safe. I am gardening with Yasha.” She waved. “She says hi. We had leftover bread for breakfast. Talk soon. Love you, too.”

“That’s very sweet, Caleb.”

He chuckled, and it sounded a little more fragile than he would’ve liked. “Careful. I will start crying again.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ve been crying a lot, too. I think it’s a good thing.”

Maybe. Caleb found it too unsettling to have that view on it. He stood up from the ground, knees damp with morning dew, and dusted the grass off his trousers. Establishing a garden here, and actually putting his own hands in the dirt this time, felt permanent. Unless something went very wrong, they were going to be here for a long time.

Yasha hadn’t had a stable home for years, either. And she also had awful violence and loss baked into her past, and terrifying blank patches in her memory. It was easy to spend quiet time with her, because they understood each other in a way the others sometimes couldn’t.

They enjoyed a quiet cup of tea on the steps linking the back door to the garden. Yasha was partway through repairing the fence back here, and she insisted on working with it alone; magic would end the project too quickly.

The sun reflected in her whitening hair, glowing like the radiance inside her. She deserved all the gentle mornings; she wore them well. Yasha gazed out at the barest beginnings of their garden, and she smiled.

“This suits you,” Caleb said.

“I’m getting used to it,” she replied softly. “After so long, I get to just be a…” She caught herself. “Well. I’m not a wife.”

“For now.”

She chuckled. “For now. It’s nice here. I get to bake bread, and grow a little garden, and welcome the people I love when they come home. And I get to love whoever I want. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“You deserve it. You deserve peace.”

Yasha smiled into her teacup. “Beau tells me that every day. I think I’m starting to believe it. What about you?”

A short question, with a complicated answer. “Sometimes. I do not know if I will ever feel like I deserve this without reservation. It is getting easier. Having a mission helps, I think.”

“We can do this,” Yasha told him. She said it quietly, but with every ounce of determination she had. Yasha had a lot. Caleb was struck by her soft strength, as he often was. Letting oneself be gentle after years of violence and pain was one of the hardest things to do. Caleb knew that all too well.

Caleb held out his fist, and she bumped it. “Ja, we got this.”

And he actually believed it. If only a little bit.

****

Caleb had an easier time walking into Soltryce Academy this time. Starting from a far more energised and calm place than last time carried him through the memories. Entering Astrid’s office was still a little painful, but he was strong enough to handle it.

Astrid and Wulf were seated in armchairs in front of the fireplace, reading. There was a pile on the table between them, and evident gaps on the bookshelves. They had rarely gotten to read books from Trent’s personal collection. The silent fuck you was vindicating, even vicariously.

“The old man had some interesting material,” Astrid said in Zemnian, skipping over the pleasantries. They didn’t need them at this point. She messaged him frequently enough that it felt like they were simply picking up a briefly dropped conversation. They usually spoke Zemnian when they did not have non-speakers to contend with, and Wulf followed suit. They would occasionally borrow a word or phrase from Common if the sentiment worked better.

Wulf snorted. “Pretty dry reading. You’ll like it, Bren.”

Caleb shrugged. “Once a nerd, always a nerd.”

Wulf set the book on the table, stretching; his shirt rode up a little bit and Caleb kept his eyes on his face with a great deal of effort. “If you want more colourful reading, the smut shop you were asking about is on the north side of the market.”

“Kingsley asked me.”

“Uh-huh,” Wulf said flatly.

“Listen, you cannot flirt with all my friends and then take that tone with me.”

“Just did.”

Caleb resisted the somewhat mild urge to scream. Wulf and Astrid were both very good at putting him off-balance, in very different ways. “Whatever makes you happy, Wulf. Astrid, can we talk about Advanced Transmutation? I am going to explode if I don’t talk about this in the next ten seconds.”

Astrid had been watching his exchange with a cocked eyebrow, but she smoothed out her expression and gestured towards a third armchair, closer to the fire.

He sat down, holding one hand out towards the warmth. “Astrid, I say this with all the respect in the world: what the fuck?”

“The advanced classes are in a delicate situation,” Astrid replied. “Professor Weber and I want as many of the Volstrucker program survivors back in school as possible. You are a better person to work with them than Bettina, and with any students who lost loved ones in the war. She told you her reasons, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Aside from my lack of qualifications and the fact I never technically graduated from the Academy?”

“Bren, your practical experience outweighs all of that. Bettina will help you with the rest.”

“Astrid suggested you take the advanced students,” Wulf said casually, leafing through another tome as if he wasn’t throwing a bomb into the conversation.

Caleb felt an ache in his gut, and he had to close his eyes and compose himself. “Astrid. Why?”

“The Academy is about to throw those children into the world,” she replied quietly. “Whatever lessons you wish to impart, you have to impart them now. Not only that, but Bettina is not well-suited to teach survivors of the Volstrucker program. She has spent her entire life in the Academy. They will not take her seriously. Some may resent her for not doing something about the abuse happening right under her nose. She told you that.”

“How many survivors do you expect we will have?” asked Caleb.

“I am still trying to track them down,” Astrid replied, with an edge of frustration.

“I was meaning to talk to you about the Volstrucker.” Caleb had been racking his brain whenever he had the time and energy. There was no formal infrastructure to support the survivors of the program. If Caleb hadn’t met Veth, and then later the Nein, things could have gone very badly for him in so many different ways.

“Talk,” Astrid said.

“These people need help,” he said. “Unless we get that mental health support I asked for, we are effectively on our own. Even if the Assembly throws us crumbs, nobody can understand what it was like except others like us. We need to talk to each other. Regularly, if possible.”

Wulf’s eyes stopped scanning the page. “Do you really think Volstrucker will want to talk to each other about this shit?”

“Who else is there?” Caleb said plainly. “They--we deserve the chance to support each other. Regular meetings, if we can. A support group, I suppose. Low pressure. Just a group of people who understand each other going through yet another upheaval in a life filled with them.”

Astrid watched him closely, eyes narrowed in thought. “Interesting. I think I understand where this idea came from.”

“We got each other through a lot back in the day,” said Caleb. “But we weren’t equipped for it. There was no blueprint for what we were to each other, but we did our best. Until it wasn’t enough. And later, I had the Nein. I would not be here without them. I owe them everything. Not everyone has people like that.”

“I’ll find us a place and let you know,” Astrid said.

“Thank you.” Caleb had expected he would be a little emotional about it, so at least he was prepared to ward off tears. “Thank you so much.”

Astrid averted her eyes, gazing into the fire. “As for your job, most of the children in the program have been located. Some of their parents have pulled them out of school. I am… trying to talk them out of that. The last thing we need are traumatised, half-trained adolescents running around unchecked.”

Caleb was hung up on her wording. Most of the children had been found. “There are some unaccounted for?”

“Two. Felix and Nicolaus. They’re both seventeen.” Astrid didn’t need to point out why their age was a problem.

There was no time to panic; Caleb needed details. “What do we know about them?”

“I worked with them a little,” Astrid replied. “They are close, not unlike the three of us at their age. If we find one, we may find the other. They are from Blumenthal. The Crownsguard are keeping an eye out, but I do not trust them to handle this with the care this situation requires.”

“Specialisations?”

“Both Evocation.”

Caleb didn’t need to say aloud how bad this could be. Two missing Evocation wizards, on the edge of graduating the Volstrucker program, who had possibly had their memories modified and orders distributed. It had been a few months since Trent would have last had contact with them. The worst could already have happened. Then again, Caleb had been in Blumenthal not that long ago to visit his parents, and he hadn’t heard anything that would have given him pause.

“I was in Blumenthal a few weeks ago,” Caleb said. “If they followed through on an order, it was likely after that. I’d… like to think I would have noticed otherwise. Most people seem to agree that I am rather intelligent.” The dry humour probably wasn’t appropriate in this moment, but he needed to keep himself calm and sarcasm usually worked a treat. “In more recent times, I would assume word would have gotten back to you. Maybe we are not too late.”

“Optimism is a new look for you, Bren,” said Wulf.

Caleb would never call himself an optimist, but he could see why Wulf was uncomfortable, even if he hid it behind one part sarcasm and one part a veiled flirt. “Wulf, I have seen a lot of things in this past year alone that have… changed me. There was a time, not too long ago, when I did not expect to survive the week. And… look at us now. We are sitting here in Astrid’s office, reading Trent’s old books because he is stuck in a dark hole and cannot do anything to us. I spent the morning gardening with Yasha. My friends bought me a quilt because it reminded me of my mother. Things are better for me than they have been in a very long time. So, I am trying new things, like having hope sometimes.”

“Point taken,” Wulf murmured, averting his eyes. Tense. Uncomfortable.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything about the boys,” Astrid said. “Whatever happens… I think you should be there.

[admiringlove]

VIII: saudade; you love him too.

— you tell him what it’s like to be in love with his reckless self, and he can’t help but smile.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2.4k.

+warnings: angst to fluff, because if there isn’t fluff y’all would kill me.

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @tanaka-ryu​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: taglist officially closed <3

+navigation: previous, masterlist, next.

Miya Atsumu was a person who tended to overthink a lot—whether it be his own decisions or his words. Mainly, it was his actions.

What he regretted the most, was this. The walk of shame to his own dorm room in the middle of the night, after doing the same thing he used to do for the past few years to take his mind off of you, made his heartstrings clench in repentance. His eyes were glued to his feet when he finally made his way to the Common Room, his throat as dry as sand, and lumps the size of pudding cups forming in his throat. He sighed, mumbling in the password in a morose tone.

He walked in, fixing his black turtle-neck as his eyes landed on you by the fire. Your back faced towards him, as a small smile made its way onto his lips, immediately disintegrating when he realized what he had just done.

He could hear small sobs coming from your direction, a slight tug of his mind wanting to come and comfort you from them. Whatever your problems might be, he wanted to push them all away. He wanted to make whoever, or whatever, caused your pain to be reminded that he was always protecting you.

Most importantly, he wanted to know why your heart was hurting. What made you cry like this?

Your eyes were glistening when you got up from where you were sitting, the invisibility cloak in your hands as you turned around and widened your bloodshot eyes after seeing Atsumu. You brought up a hand to stifle a sob, trying your hardest to not make him hear it, as you almost sprinted towards the stairs towards the girls' dormitory.

"[Y/N], wait—"

He flinched when you slammed the door to your dormitory, sighing too loudly as his gaze downcasted yet again. He shuffles up the stairs to his own room, where he sees Osamu and Suna sitting up and chatting.

"Why the hell are you two still up?" Atsumu groaned, walking to his trunk as he sifted through shirts to wear to bed, then deciding on sleeping without one.

"Oh, we're just casually chitchatting about what a fuckin' knobhead ya are," Osamu grunts, Suna placing a hand on his shoulder, muttering, "Calm down, Moony. Sakusa and Aran'll wake up if you shout."

"For Merlin's sake, 'Samu, I'm not in the mood," Atsumu shrugs his younger twin off, heading to his bed as Suna throws the map at his head.

"Oi, be careful!"

"Where's [Y/N]?" Suna asks, his arms folded across his chest as he leans on the front door, raising an eyebrow at the yellow-haired male in disappointment.

"In her dorm, saw 'er go up when I came in," Atsumu says, completely clueless as to what Suna was hinting towards.

"Swear to fuckin' Salazar," Osamu flops into his bed, pulling the duvet over his head as he murmurs, "Yer so dumb."

"'Samu, shut yer trap for a second," Atsumu brings a hand up to gesture to Osamu to stay quiet, continuing to pay attention to the wolf talking.

"Where's the girl you were snogging?" Suna sighed, ruffling his hair as he sat down on his bed, as Atsumu shrugs to the question—a clear indicator that he does not know.

"Merlin's Beard," Osamu grumbles, earning an annoyed expression from Atsumu who closes his eyes shut in inconvenience. Atsumu raises an eyebrow, not being able to put two-and-two together, as Suna finally says the words Atsumu would probably dread to hear.

"[Y/N] saw you snogging the girl by the Astronomy Tower," Suna says quickly, pulling the duvet over his head finally as Atsumu's eyes widen in shock.

All the mustard-furred fox wants right now is to run to you and apologize a million times—because whatever he has to say right now is probably not enough. Just a few minutes ago, he wanted to make your worries fade away. He wanted to teach whoever made you sad a lesson—but how could he, when the person who hurt you was Atsumu himself?

Osamu turned in his bed when he saw Atsumu sitting there, staring off into space, rather than going to bed. The grey-haired knew that Atsumu probably felt immense guilt, but what could he say? His twin brother had messed up on his own, and now he had to deal with it on his own as well.

And Osamu knew, that in no way possible would it be easy.

You slammed the door to your dorm, muffling your sobs the best you could as you shut your eyes and slid down the door. Hugging your knees to your chest, and when you finally looked up, you saw that all of your roommates were sitting there, looking at you with pity in their eyes.

You hated this. You hated Miya Atsumu. You hated being pitied.

"[Y/N]—" Alisa started but quickly stopping when Kiyoko gave her a certain look. You opened your mouth to say something, but it seemed as if your own body was in denial, not wanting to listen to your mind. You sighed, your eyes bleeding seawater as you bit your lip until a metallic taste filled your senses. You wanted an out—no matter what it was, you just wanted to get out of here. Everything reminded you of him, you just wanted to go back home to the haunting memories instead of staying here.

"Hold on a minute, darling, why are you crying?" Hana says, walking up to you and handing you a glass of water. You push it away, shaking your head as you mutter out incomprehensible words. Hana's features softened, as she helped you get up and into bed, everyone else giving you your space as the oldest in the room bid you a good night with a ruffle of your hair.

As the lights in the dorm finally went off, you tried your best to fall asleep, but couldn't when all your thoughts were swarmed by a certain blonde.

When all the other students walked to breakfast for their normal Saturday morning, you made your way to the Black Lake. You remembered to carry a small loaf of bread, throwing in a few crumbles every few minutes so the fishes underneath your dangling feet eat them. You sighed, your mind racing at a million light-years per second.

Were you not good enough?

Was that it? Why couldn't Atsumu even ask if you felt the same? It was true that your love for him was just beginning to bloom—but if you had realized it sooner then maybe it wouldn't have gotten to such a point where every inch of your being wanted to burst into tears or sulk in a lightless room. If he loved you, then why was it that he was with a girl yesterday? Was she more pretty, or more talented? Was she better in Quidditch, or did she make him laugh?

Did he fall in love with her, forgetting about you in the process?

You heard footsteps behind you, causing a small sigh to escape your cerise lips. You didn't want to look at whoever it was, your mind simply longing to shut yourself out of existence.

"[Y/N]," the all-too-familiar voice says. You closed your eyes, your mind screaming a 'no' loudly and repeatedly, dreading whatever the older Miya twin has to say.

"Leave me the hell alone, Miya," you grumble, tossing in another few breadcrumbs into the sheer water. He winced at the tone and the way you said his last name—the former nickname discarded somewhere he couldn't reach. He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he said, "'Samu told me you saw."

"Well, I'd like you to leave me alone. Because whatever stupid apology you have prepared, I don't want to hear it," you rasped, your expression turning into a nasty scowl as the boy was taken aback. Your previous banters in these past years were never as serious as the matter at hand, so he couldn't tell how he was supposed to react according to the cold manner.

"I don't deserve you," he mumbles, "I know you just said you didn't want to hear an apology from me. But honestly, there's nothing else I can say to you except the fact that I don't deserve you."

You scoffed, getting up as you threw in the last bits of bread in your palms, as you finally faced him. His gloved hands in his coat as you huffed, "You didn't even care to ask how I felt, did you?"

"What?"

"You got mad that I 'ignored' you for sometime, so you fucking ignore me back. I'm rude to you for what, a few days to figure out how I feel, and you go ahead and get mad. You're such a petty little shit, Miya," you hissed, gritting your teeth at the last sentence as you continued, "You didn't think once to come and ask me why I ignored you. No, you just went along with it—"

"Hey, I asked!"

"Fine, you asked. But did you understand why I was behaving that way, you knob?" you raised an eyebrow, staring into his eyes as if it's the last banter you get with him, "No. You ignored me after that, which led to this."

"You said you hated me, don't you dare go back on your word, [L/N]," his voice cracks as he takes a step closer to you, grabbing your arm so you don't fall into the water behind you, "You made me think that you hated me, so I backed off. What else was I supposed to do? I didn't expect you to walk into the Shrieking Shack just for me!"

"Because I wanted to tell you that I loved you too! But you were in over your head so you didn't listen!"

"Wait, what?!" Atsumu yelled in surprise, his clutch on you becoming tighter as he continued, "And you didn't think to tell me beforehand?"

"On the first day of school, you lost a certain book. Don't you remember?" you murmur, voice undeniably small as your shy eyes avert their gaze from him. A juxtaposition of anger, fear, and anxiety mixing in your heart. You simply wanted an out more than anything at this moment—an abditory sounding better than to admit stealing his book.

"My diary, yeah. Wait a minute, I found it under my bed the next day. How do you know 'bout that? Even 'Samu doesn't—" the fox paused, mumbling obscure words under his breath as he put two-and-two together, "You stole it?!"

"I didn't steal it!" you fought back, "I found it. I didn't read anything but the first page, because I started to feel guilty and so I wanted to return it because you would kill me if you noticed I had it. On the night we met here, of all places, I returned it to your room. Merlin's beard, I almost got caught by you too—"

"[Y/N]."

"And then I went to the Black Lake and I was conflicted because I thought you loved someone. That was when I actually realized I was really in love with you, because damn, it hurts when you find out that something you've had all along isn't yours anymore—"

"[Y/N]," Atsumu almost wanted to laugh. You were flailing your hands around as you rambled on about. He was listening to whatever you said, and he was completely entranced. Because now he really understood why he loved you. Simply spending some time with you made his heart bloom like a hibiscus on a hot summer day. And you continued, "But then your stupid arse decided to take me to the Shrieking Shack and show me that you were an animagus. I swear, who does that? The girl, God, I saw her and I felt so bad for just being with you because she nicely asked me to set you up with her."

"Wait, you wanted to set me up with her?" Atsumu asked, his mouth turning into an almost overjoyed smile, "That's—"

"Shut it!" you yelled, "That's why I ignored you. I thought you'd be better off without me, and now I'm starting to think you are."

Dejected, you begin to walk off, but somehow, just somehow, Miya Atsumu gets the smallest sliver of courage to tell you how much he cares for you—how much he wants you to stay, how much he wants to hold you, and how in love he actually is.

He takes a step forward, catching your wrist and tugging slightly, making you look back at him. The winter breeze making you look like an angel as the sky decided that it was time to shower Hogwarts with white specks of joy.

"You have no idea how much I waited to tell you I loved you," he began, "I love you so much, [L/N]."

"Why'd you run off with another girl last night, then?" you choked out a sob, tugging Atsumu's heartstrings forcefully. He opened his mouth to speak when he realized he doesn't exactly have proper reasoning for why he did what he did. You let out a dry chuckle, the atmosphere thickening as you shook off his hand and began walking.

"On the second page of my diary," he begins, "I talk about our nightly trips around Hogwarts."

"Atsumu, don't—"

"Please, just listen to me," he begs, "On the second page of my diary, I talk about how much I want to be with you. I talk about how yer one of the only things that give me happiness, and I talk about the little things you do depending on yer mood."

You chuckle as you let out a sob, but he continues, "I want to see more of it, y'know? The little thing with your hand that you do usually when you're nervous—trust me, I've seen a lot of it when you're around me. I love how yers eyes light up when eating Treacle Tarts, and I adore how you can come back with ten times the insults I throw at ya."

"You're going to make me stay, dummy," you say, with a rueful smile on your face, as he chuckles, "That's the intention, slug."

"I thought you hated me," he says, making your heart swell up, "I avoided you because I thought you hated me. And yesterday, I-I did that 'cause I didn't wanna bother you anymore. I thought," he paused, sucking in a breath, "I thought if I distance myself enough then you won't hate me anymore."

"What am I supposed to say to that, you idiot?" you laugh, to hide what you really wanted to say. You brushed your hair out of your face, walking closer to the boy. And without saying anything, he wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you even closer as he whispers into your ear, "I'm so in love with you, slug."

"I'm so in love with you too, 'Tsumu."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[scarofthewind]

Is it alright if I ask for the Slashers of your choice and their s/o meeting (and basically adopting) a feral child after they protect their s/o from a victim who tried to harm them?

A/N: I am going to do two instead of my many boys because each one is going to be a bit long. Hope you enjoy! BTW THESE ARE VERY LONG!!! Trigger warning (mentions of abuse and pedophilia).

                                    ________________________

Brahms Heelshire: “What are you doing?” A soft voice asked from behind you as you tugged your rainboots on. 

“I’m going to the shed. I need to get the shovel so we can plant those flowers out front tomorrow.” Brahms started at you blankly. “What?” You asked.

“Shout if you need anything.” He replied, kissing your forehead. 

You smiled, “Not like you don’t watch me from the windows anyway.” Brahms mumbled under his breath and you pulled the hood to your jacket over your head and walked outside. The cold air greeted you harshly as rain caressed your face. You ducked your head and made your way over the to shed which was a few yards away. 

Trying not to slip in a mud puddle, you neared the brown building and paused in your tracks when you saw that the door was open. You waited to hear something and moved forward when a crash erupted from inside. 

“Hello?” You shouted over the sound of the pouring rain and watched as a face appeared in the door way; crouching near the ground. You stopped and felt your heart nearly stop with fear. Big eyes stared at you as a head full of wild hair tilted to the side, sizing you up. You saw the dainty hands wrap around the side of the door and you let out a breath. The faded blue shirt it wore was nearly torn off and you could see bruises and scratches on the dirtied skin. 

Something in your mind clicked and you put your hands out, slowly moving forward. “Are you lost?” The child made a hissing sound and crouched back to the ground and scooted back inside the shed. 

“Wait-” You put your hands to your ears as the sound of a gun going off near you made you flinch. The ringing in your ears was painful and loud as your eyes watered from the pressure. A man you’d never seen before was yelling and pointing his gun at you. 

“Where’s the kid!? I know you’ve seen him!” The man walked over to you from the side of the shed and forced you to the ground. His back was to the door and you could see the child watching with big eyes. 

“I don’t know any kid! I live here alone!” You said calmly, knowing Brahms would be here any moment. You froze at that realization; Brahms couldn’t fight a man with a gun. 

The man smacked your face with the back of his hand and placed the end of his gun at your chin. “Where’s the fucking kid!” You watched from the corner of your eye as the kid slowly crawled across the grass towards you. Coming up from behind the man, it looked you in the eyes from a few inches away and you realized what was about to happen. 

“I’ll ask you one more time; where’s the k-” The man didn’t get to finish his sentence as the child jumped up and snapped his head back. You rolled out of the way as the gun fired at your previous spot on the ground. 

You watched in horror as the man fell lifeless to the ground and the kid snapped his neck a few more times in different angles to make sure he was dead. You let out a shaky breath and it’s eyes locked with yours, crawling quickly over to you and staring inches away from your face. 

So many questions went through your head and you felt your motherly instincts come through. You watched as the child eyed your face and slowly reached up to touch your cheeks and nose. The boy made a humming sound and it took you a minute to realize it was trying to pronounce something. “M-M-” It tried, and your heart calmed down. “M-m-mommy. Mommy.” It chanted, it’s voice unused but still it held a British accent. 

“Mommy.” You replied and the child smiled briefly before footsteps came your way. 

“What the fuck happened!? What is that!?” Brahms asked angrily and loud, moving toward you too fast for the child’s liking. It growled at Brahms and held your head in its arms, crawling in your lap and pulling your jacket around him. 

“(Y/N)…” Brahms put his hands up to show the kid he meant no harm and you could barely breathe. 

“Brahms, it saved me.” You looked at it as it stared at your lover from inside your jacket, quietly growling. “It’s just a little boy. Not even ten yet.” You spoke softly, careful not to frighten the child. 

Brahms was breathing heavily and he was completely drenched. Sighing, he looked over to the body of the man on the ground. “Jesus. Get inside, take him with you. I’ll deal with this.” He motioned to the house and you stood, taking the kid in your arms and walking back to the house. 

“Mommy. Mommy. Mommy.” He repeated, playing with your hair as you shut the door behind you and went into the kitchen. You set him down in a chair and he crouched in it, looking around the house and watching as you made him a quick sandwich. You put the plate in front of him and he stared at you. 

“You poor thing.” You said softly, taking the food and slowly showing him how to eat it. Eventually, he finished the sandwich off and then proceeded to follow you upstairs as Brahms came in. 

“I’m going to get him cleaned up. Maybe he’s a missing kid and we just don’t recognize him.” You said and Brahms nodded, locking eyes with the kid who tilted his head at him. 

“C’mon.” You said to the boy and he looked up at you and smiled. 

“Mommy. Mommy.” He crawled around the ground in front of you and you made your way into the bathroom. You’d never known how to take care of a child, but you and Brahms had been trying for one so you had been reading up on how to care for one. The bath wasn’t the hardest part. It was cutting and combing the child’s hair and trying to get him into some clothes that were Brahms’ from when he was a kid, was. 

He had beautiful green eyes and light blonde hair that was wavy when dried. You took the child downstairs and watched as it tried to walk normally into the living room. When he saw Brahms, he hit the floor and ran to your legs. “Mommy.” It wined, and your eyes met Brahms’. You knew that look.

“Brahms...”

“We will talk about it when he’s asleep.” He brushed past you and hurried upstairs while you sat by the fire with the kid and slowly let him fall asleep on the couch next to you. 

“We can’t keep him.” Brahms’ voice said as he sat on your other side, staring at the child ho was drooling on the sofa. “He’s wild.”

“So were you.” You snapped. “We can help him.” 

“That man knew who he was. He was looking for him! More people will if he was someone’s child.” Brahms argued quietly. 

“Look at his wrists and ankles and tell me he was loved.” The scars from where the skin had been rubbed off too many times from cuffs were ragged. Brahms sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Brahms we can give this boy the care he needs. If we are good parents with him then maybe when he’s older we can have one of our own.” You pressed, watching as the child nearly rolled off the couch. 

“He’s already attached to you.” Brahms ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.” He caved, and you smiled, leaning up and pressing your lips to his. 

“Mommy...” The child whimpered from behind you, tears forming in his eyes from what you imagined would be a bad dream. Your heart ached and you pulled him up into your lap, wiping his tears and cooing to him. He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and made eye contact with Brahms. One of his hands was against your neck and the other was slowly reaching out towards Brahms’ face. 

You held your breath, watching as his small fingers touched the side of Brahms’ scar. “D-D-Daddy.” He formed the word after a few tries and Brahms felt a smile etch its way onto his face. 

“We’re keeping him.” Brahms nodded and let the child giggle when you did. This was going to be the start of something great.

Norman Bates: You watched from the window of the coffee shop as the little girl across the road sat on the sidewalk with nothing but a torn up dress on. You’d seen her a couple of times before but never thought anything of it; assuming her parents were around somewhere. 

“(Y/N), are you even listening to me?” Norman taped your hand and you looked back at him. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to focus on his rant about how H.P. Lovecraft was a deeper and darker author than Edgar Allen Poe. Your eyes wandered to the little girl again but she was gone. 

It took three more weeks until you saw her again; standing across the road from the coffee shop but wearing the same dress. She looked more malnourished and wild than she did before. You had come alone to the café this time and ordered an extra loaf of lemon cake just in case. You had questions and your mind raced as you watched her. 

She walked towards an alleyway and you watched as a man approached her, only to disappear in the darkened corner. Your heart leapt into your chest at the horrible thoughts that ran through your head and you got up, practically running out the door. 

“Hey!” You shouted as you went to the entrance of the alleyway, the man had a hold on the girls arm and a disguising look in his eyes. “Get your hands off her you filthy bastard!” You yelled, backing up as he threw her to the ground and turned to you.

“What are you going to do about it doll?” He mocked, adjusting his pants so they weren’t so obvious as what he was about to do. 

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You snapped, pushing past the pig to the girl who was crying on the ground. 

The man grabbed your arm and brought you close to his face; you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “She’s a little girl.” You said.

“Want me to take you instead?” He smirked and you then started to fear. This man had a foot in height on you and was a lot bigger build. 

“I’ll scream.” You warned and the guy frowned. 

“I’ll cut your throat before you do any of that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He didn’t manage to make it to your neck as the little girl took it from his grimy fingers and jumped up, piercing it through his neck. 

Instantly, the man let you go and you waited until he hit the ground before taking the girls arm and running back home. 

As soon as the front door shut, you shouted for Norman. You heard footsteps pounding on the stairs as he came around the corner, a worried look in his eyes. “What happened!?” He asked, reaching your face and cupping it in his hands. 

“I was at the café and I saw the little girl and there was a guy in the alleyway and he almost-” You trembled with anxiety and worry of what just happened. The small child clung to your legs and Norman nearly jumped out of his skin when she tried pushing him away from you. 

“Back!” She yelled, moving in front of you and pointing for Norman to move back. He obliged. 

“(Y/N), what the hell!” He shouted, his eyes not leaving hers. 

“She thinks you’re going to hurt me.” You realized, kneeling down to her level and turning her to face you. “He’s good. Not going to hurt us.” 

“Us?!” Norman asked and you sent him a look that made him shut his mouth. 

The little girl looked at you and nodded, wrapping her arms around your neck and letting you hug her. “Momma.” Her word went straight to your heart and you gave Norman a look that he knew he couldn’t argue with. 

“He was trying to hurt her and then me when I stopped him. He pulled a knife but she killed him with it.” You watched as Norman ran a hand over his face trying to process all that was going on. 

“Did anyone see you?” He asked and you shook your head as the child began to play with your hair. 

“She’s been abandoned, Norman. She has no one.” You smiled at her as she giggled when you poked her cheeks. Norman let out a groan.

“Clean her up. I’ll make dinner and will go into town tomorrow to see if she’s on a missing child poster.” You nodded and carried the girl to the bathroom where you bathed her and brushed her hair from her golden brown eyes. Her strawberry blonde hair was soft to the touch after you brushed the knots out. 

You found some of your old clothes and managed to make a nightgown out of an old shirt. You put her hair in pigtails and went downstairs with her, her hand holding onto your leg the whole time. 

Norman saw her peeking out from behind you and kneeled carefully, looking at her. “Do you have a name?” He asked. The little girl shook her head. 

“Do you know how old you are?” He continued and she looked at her hands before putting up seven fingers. He smiled at her, “Good job.” The little girl smiled and moved towards him.

“Do you know where your parents went?” Norman asked and she paused. You braced yourself for anything that could go wrong. 

“Poppa dead. Momma left.”

“Where did she go?” You asked, the little girl looked at you with tears in her eyes. 

“Store.” Your heart hurt for this girl and you looked at Norman who you could tell felt the same. “This many years.” 

The moment she held up two fingers, you nearly cried. You scooped her up in your arms and let her cry into your chest. “We aren’t leaving her. We aren’t leaving you behind. We will never do that to you.” You told yourself, Norman and the child. That was a promise you made. 

Norman nodded, rubbing your back as he silently agreed, letting the little girl slowly get used to the idea that some men where good and wouldn’t hurt her. 

After a few minutes, you managed to get her to sit down and eat, to which she did without complaint. Norman watched as she scarfed her food down and had to tell her to slow down before she choked herself. 

“Play!” She said as soon as you were done eating. Norman placed the dishes in the sink and all of you went into the living room. An hour passed of Norman lifting her up and flying her around the room like an airplane, she finally fell asleep. 

You pulled a blanket over her sleeping form and you made a palette ready for you on the floor next to the bed she was in. “Just for tonight. Until she is certain we aren’t leaving her.” You told Norman as he watched you from the doorway. Nodding, he came over and hugged you.

“What a wild day.” You sighed and he chuckled, kissing you softly. 

“I love you. This is going to be good for us.” Norman said quietly, looking at the small girl who started to whine. 

“Momma.” She called, sitting up a bit, waking up. 

“Stay with us?” You asked Norman as you cooed her back to sleep and made yourself comfy on the floor next to her. Norman nodded, turning the light off and moved to the floor, laying next to you and the new child he would soon call his daughter. 

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Let Them Eat Cake Part V

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay with this chapter, but this one is a long one so I hope that makes up for it!

Tonight on The Great British Bake Off…

“It’s all burned!”

“Oh my god, I forgot to put them in.”

“It’s all curdled. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Remus woke up that morning with a bitter taste in his mouth. That was happening a lot lately. He got ready in a series of mechanic motions, showering, dressing, brushing his teeth. He met Lily outside the hotel, and she being the magical being that she was, had a coffee in a take-away cup ready for him.

“Hey,” She said softly. “You ready for today?”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek. “I suppose I’ll have to be.”

Six days earlier...

“Take a walk with me?” Sirius asked and Remus nodded his affirmations. As if he could say no. He followed Sirius out of the tent and they started strolling in the opposite direction of the hotel, avoiding the crowds of the bakers and crew packing up for the day.

“So you made it.” Sirius said after a moment or two of silence. Remus sneaked a peek at the other man out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” He said scratching the back of his neck. “If I had gone home I’m not sure if I ever would have been able to eat chocolate again, and that would be a big problem since I think it’s my main food group.”

Sirius burst out laughing and Remus blushed a little, pleased. They were well out of ear shot of anyone else, almost out of sight too. There was a massive oak tree in the middle of an open field and Sirius stepped onto the grass grinning. 

“C’mere, I found a cool spot.”

Remus bit down a smile as he followed him, taking a breath in when they rounded the wide trunk and found a wide swing hanging from a branch, the trunk of the tree completely shielding them from view.

“This is amazing.” Remus said, reaching out to touch the rope, running his fingers over the wooden planks forming a seat. “When did you find this place?”

Sirius shrugged and sat on one side of it, the swing tilting ever so slightly with the imbalance. “Some time in the first few days.” He patted the space still left open, “You gonna sit?”

“Who else knows about it?” Remus asked, rounding the swing. 

“As far as I know… just me. And now you.”

Remus sat and the ropes evened out again. Remus rocked back and forth on his toes a little, the swing swaying soothingly with him.

“It’s brilliant, I love it.” 

Sirius smiled. “Yeah, I thought you would.”

Today...

“Guys! Hang on!” Remus heard but before he had even turned around, someone crashed into him.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, stumbling a little because suddenly he had a bubbly pink haired woman on his back.

“Hi Tonks.” He said laughing, when he had recovered his footing. Tonks wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.

“Don’t let the cardigans fool you,” She said to Lily seriously, “He’s deceptively strong.”

Lily smiled, Peter falling in line with them. “I can see that.”

“Ooh! Bake Off love!” Marlene exclaimed, snapping a couple of pictures of them all together, Tonks still on Remus’ back. “These will be great on Instagram.”

“Oh great, now there’s gonna be theories of us dating.” Remus said dryly,  even though he smiled a little. “What do you think our ship name will be?” 

“Ronks.” Lily snorted and no one could stop themselves from laughing at it.

“Is it bad that I kinda like it?” Tonks said, still giggling. “Like it’s ridiculous but that's why you’ve gotta love it.”

Remus nodded and bumped their hips together playfully. “It’s a perfect fit for a perfect couple.” He teased, then ignored the slight pang in his chest, even at his own words.

“Wait, you guys are dating?” Peter asked, completely bewildered and Remus shot him an incredulous look. 

“Of course we’re not, we’re just joking Pete.”

Tonks gasped, her hand covering her chest. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want to be with me?”

“Of course not my love, we would be spectacular.”

“You can see why I’d get confused,” Peter mumbled to Lily.

“But,” Remus continued, drawing out the word before quickly spitting out the next sentence as he laughed a little. “I’m much to gay for that.”

“Here, here!” Tonks cried and they joked all the way down to the set. “Semi finals next week, I can’t believe we’re here already.”

“Oh my god I’m so not ready to think about that yet.” Lily chimed in, Remus and Peter nodding their agreements.

Remus felt his shoulders tense as they entered the tent, but after a quick glance around, he realised Sirius wasn’t there. He probably shouldn’t be so relieved, he would have to see him eventually so really Remus was just prolonging the inevitable but you can’t blame a guy for wanting to avoid an awkward situation. He stood at his station, but turned around so he was leaning on Lily’s counter as they chatted. He stayed that way until the producers started yelling for everyone to get ready and he turned around. At some point Sirius had come into the room. Remus didn’t meet his gaze.

“Welcome back! This week on The Great British Bake Off… It’s pudding week!”

“For our signature challenge,” Sirius continued, “Our judges have asked that you make a bread and butter pudding.”

“Sounds simple right?.” James grinned. “The catch is, you have to make it with bread you bake yourself.”

“Your time starts now, ready?”

“Set.” 

“Bake!”

Remus looked away from the head of the tent as quickly as he could, ready to have an excuse to not look at Sirius. Especially Sirius in a leather jacket. He gathered his ingredients and set to work. Bread and butter pudding. That he could do.

Six days earlier...

“So,” Remus said as he swayed them back and forth. “Here we are.”

Sirius smiled. “Here we are.”

Remus bit his lip for a moment trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say. So, you like my mouth? You wanted to talk? Do you think about me the same way I think about you?

Instead he blurted out; “What’s your favourite cake?”

Sirius blink then looked at him with this startled but pleased smile. Like he was surprised by the question, but also like he had known Remus’ words before Remus even spoke them.

“Lemon meringue pie.”

“That’s not a cake.”

“But it’s still my favourite.”

Remus pursed his lips to hide his smile. “That's… sweeter than you usually like.” 

Sirius’ small smile grew. “Correct as always. It’s less to do with taste and more to do with memories I guess.”

Remus tilted his head. “Yeah? What memories?”

Sirius laughed a little. “Inquisitive today aren’t we?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. His signature move. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?” He asked pointedly.

Sirius looked at him knowingly for a moment, but then shook his head minutely. “James’ mum used to make it every Sunday. She even taught me how, after I’d badger her to make more.”

Remus grinned. “She sounds great.”

“Sirius relaxed a bit, leaning back against the rope and tucking on foot under his knee. If Remus did it, he would have looked ridiculous and would most likely have fallen right off the swing and flat on his face on the ground. But when Sirius did it, the movement retained all the airs Sirius brought to the world, carefree, casual. elegant.

“So, how do you feel after this week?”

Remus groaned. “Can we not talk about Bake Off? I mean I love it and all but I need a break.”

Sirius chuckled. “That’s fair. I suppose I could use one too.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do?” Remus asked and it wasn’t until he said it that he realised it sounded almost flirty.

Surprise flickered in Sirius’ grey eyes and his gaze flickered from Remus’ own amber eyes to his lips. Remus tilted his head ever so slightly, tongue wetting his lips a little as his breath hitched and they were both leaning in, closer and closer until-

“-Remus.” Sirius said voice low, jaw clenching even as his eyes stayed trained on Remus’ lips. “We shouldn’t.”

Remus frowned, the spell breaking a little. “What? I don’t understand.”

“We work together.” Sirius said, sitting back once again and turning his head away. “It would be frowned upon.”

Remus looked at him in disbelief. “Who says anyone has to know?”

Sirius tugged on the tie in his hair and the dark waves tumbled down to his shoulders before he ran his fingers through it. “You’re looking strong for winning this thing. I don’t want anyone doubting your integrity.”

Remus shook his head in pure and utter confusion. “But Sirius, you’re not a judge. I don’t think it would even be possible for you to ruin my integrity.”

Sirius just shook his head silently. Throat tight, Remus stood up and took a few steps away. He looked back at Sirius and paused. 

“What about everything you said? Sirius, I know you were flirting with me. And just forty minutes ago you asked me to come here with you. What happened?”

“I remembered.” Sirius said hollowly.

“Remember what?”

But Sirius didn’t answer. Remus waited, but the other man just stood up and walked away. Remus sat back down for a moment and put his head in his hands. How did he get here? This morning he felt sure. Now he felt… well he didn’t know what he felt.

He hung back to give Sirius a head start so there would be no chance of them running into each other. Then Remus stood up and walked back to the hotel. Alone.

TODAY…

“Fucking fuck fuckeroo I’ve fucking burned my freaking bread. Fuck!” Remus said as he pulled the slightly overdone loaf from the oven.

“Hey Remus, want to try again, but like… viewer friendly this time?” Marlene called.

Remus flipped her off but then gave her a thumbs up and went again.

“Oh no! I’ve burned the bread!” He cried and Marlene rolled her eyes. 

“Remus Lupin I’m going to have you fired.”

“Love you too!” He said with a wink before turning back to figure out what the hell he was going to try to do.

“You’re awful.” Lily said to him as she took her own loaves out of the oven.

Remus shot her a wink too. “I know.”

In the end, Remus cut off all the crusts of his bread, knowing that it might slightly impede the structural integrity but at the same time… It was a pudding. They barely have any structure in the first place.

He whipped up his cream and added in some saffron, nutmeg and sugar then began making layers upon layers of bread and cream. He left out any raisins both because he hated them and he knew Dumbledore had a particular aversion to them and well he was willing to do anything to win a little bit of favour. He covered it all with another thick layer of cream, sprinkling the top with extra nutmeg and cinnamon.

He popped it into the oven and set his timer before asking Lily to keep an eye on his station for a moment just in case while he nipped off to the loo.

As soon as he stepped out of the tent they filmed in, he was hit with a wave of cool air and he breathed in gratefully - having several ovens in one space always led to quite a hot temperature in the tent. He splashed some water on his face in the bathroom and rolled back his shoulders. He didn’t know why he felt so… off. Okay he did, and that reason was the notorious Sirius Black, but Remus had decided from the very first day that he wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his baking. And here he was doing exactly that. He squared his shoulders and met his own eyes in the mirror. 

“Get a grip.” He told himself and went back to the tent.

Apparently his little pep talk had absolutely no effect, because after burning his bread, he topped off the baking experience by burning the pudding too. It was beginning to look like another stellar baking week for Remus.

“It’s a bit dark.” McGonagall commented as she dolled out a serving for both herself and Dumbledore.

‘Yeah no shit’ Remus wanted to say. Instead he just nodded his head.

“Even with the cream, the bread is a little dry.” Dumbledore said after taking a bite. Remus clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself. “And it’s a little bitter from being in the oven a nit too long. Overall, not your best work Mr Lupin.”

Remus sat down once more and found himself taking a shaky breath. That was definitely not how he wanted to start this week. He comforted himself by saying that he’d do much better in the other challenges. Nearly everybody else did quite well. The only person worse than Remus was Peter who had somehow, by laws unknown to Remus and possibly to science had managed to have quite a liquid consistency. 

Remus went to lunch a little put-out but chatting with everyone never failed to cheer him up almost instantly.

“They could have drank it with a straw!” Peter moaned, dropping his forehead onto the table. “I don’t even know how! The cream was whipped so well before it all went in the oven!”

“Hard luck mate.” James said, patting Peter on the shoulder as he slid into a seat next to Lily. Remus didn’t miss the way they leaned slightly towards each other. He wondered if their story would end better than his and Sirius’. Even Kingsley had joined them, making Sirius’ absence more stark.

“What’s Twitter up to this week?” Tonks asked, peering over Remus’ shoulder as he pulled the page up. 

“Um, let’s see,” Remus typed in the bake off tag and watched as all the posts rolled up. “They’re still weak for your hair Tonks,” He said and Tonks flicked her hair dramatically in response. “Oh my god there’s a twitter war.”

“Wait what?” Tonks asked, leaning in closer as everyone else gathered around. 

“From the picture of you and me this morning. There’s people shipping you and me versus people shipping me and Sirius.”

“Oh my god, that is comedy gold.” Peter said, oblivious. Remus didn’t know what Sirius had told James, but he suspected SOMETHING from the careful way James controlled his face. 

“I’m just gonna see where Sirius is.” James said as he stood up. “I don’t know what’s taking him so long.”

The pair didn’t return for lunch, the next everyone saw of them was when shooting recommenced. Remus had given himself a mental pep talk as he walked back to his station, consisting purely of ‘Come on Lupin, don’t fuck this up, you can do it’. 

“You ready?” Lily queried as the microphones were put into position.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, you?”

“About the same I’d say.”

“Okay and we’re recording in three, two and one.” Marlene said, pointing her finger towards James and Sirius to indicate that they were rolling.

“Our bakers just faced their signature challenge and while they might not have liked it, I must say, it was my bread and butter!” James opened and Remus covered his mouth with his hand because he refused to have the entire nation know he was even mildly amused by that terrible pun, but Remus really was a sucker for them.

Sirius rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh my god Jamie, that’s bad even for you.”

“I thought that was excellent, thank you very much.”

“I’m choosing to ignore you now.” Sirius bantered. “For our technical challenge, our judges would like you to make six individual sticky toffee puddings, judges, have you got anything to say?”

“Be mindful of your vanilla.” Dumbledore warned and Remus bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the ‘advice’. It was always so vague, they might not bother saying anything at all.

“Alright judges, out you go,” James said ushering the pair out the door.. Sirius faced the bakers and grinned.

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

Remus turned around to Lily. “Be mindful of your vanilla.” He said in a very serious turn. Lily threw the cloth covering her ingredients at him. All was well.

James swung by Remus’ station a little while later. “How’s it going?”

Remus was just finishing cutting out little circles of parchment paper to line the bottom of the little pots he would bake the puddings in. He had already liberally greased the edges with butter and he just needed to pop the parchment circles in.

“Alright, I haven’t actually done any baking yet.” Remus said laughing. James grabbed the leftover scrap of paper and attempted to make some kind of crown out of it. 

“Here ye, here ye!” Remus joked, noticing half the cameras in the room training on them. 

“I think I should be king of the bake off Remus, what do you think?”

Remus nodded along solemnly/ “Oh yes of course James, your baking skills are incredible.”

“I can bake!” James protested.

“Sure, sure,” Remus teased, beginning to measure ingredients. “But if you’re the king of bake off, who will make all the terrible puns.”

James covered his heart with his hand. “You wound me Remus, truly.”

Remus chucked a date at his head, but James just opened his mouth and caught it.”

Remus burst out laughing. “Okay that was good, you can be the king of bake off now.”

“Why thank you.” James said before heading off to chat to Lily next, still wearing his paper crown. 

Remus turned back to his baking and began mixing ingredients together. He was careful to split the vanilla pod and scrape the seeds into the mix. In the end he was pretty happy with his batter, and poured it carefully into his pots, being careful not to pass the three quarter mark as they would rise in the oven and he didn’t want to have them spill over the edge.

He popped them in the oven and began to start work on the toffee, measuring ingredients as he let the pot heat up. He tossed in the butter and sugar and stirred a little before making a cup of tea. He came back to his toffee-to-be a few minutes later to see he had left it unattended too long and it had all crystallised.

“Fuck!” He said, emptying the contents onto a plate and quickly starting again.

“Oof, they crystallised?” Lily asked, on her tiptoes peering over at Remus’ work.

“Yup. I have just enough time to go again though.”

This time, the devil himself wouldn’t be able to lure Remus away from his bot.

‘A watched pot never boils,’ He thought. “Yeah well a watched pot never burns either.” He muttered, aware that he would probably come across as mildly insane but fuck it.

“Are you talking to yourself?” A lovely lilting voice asked and Remus froze for a moment before continuing to stir.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Sirius asked

“Because I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

Remus knew Sirius would be smiling even if he couldn’t see him. He slowly added the cream into his pot, folding it all in nicely.

“Well I can’t refute that statement.” Sirius agreed and Remus almost wanted to tell him to fuck off because even now Sirius was so lovely and Remus wanted to turn and see his smile, except he knew it wouldn’t be the same. It would be purely for the camera and there would be no little sly glances or secret winks and that gorgeous sparkle in his eye would be gone.

Or was it ever even there in the first place?

Remus took the pot off the heat and let it sit for a moment as he took the puddings out of the oven. He set them all on a cooling rack and turned to start taking them out of the pots when he spotted six identical little parchment paper circles sitting on the counter.

“Oh fuck.” He whispered. He never actually put them in the pots. “Oh Christ. Oh for fucks sake.” He said running his fingers through his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked, coming over to him and resting her hand on his shoulder.

“I never put the parchment paper in, they’re going to stick to the pot and be ruined.”

“You greased it though didn’t you? That’ll help a lot, there’s still hope yet.” She leaned in close again and whispered, “And if they go to hell you can bump into Peter when we’re putting them on the table and pretend he knocked them over again.”

Remus chuckled and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you, now go away because we don’t need yours ruined too.”

“They’re not ruined!” Lily yelled back at him and Remus smiled as he dug through his cutlery drawer to find the thinnest knife that he could. Biting his lip in concentration he carefully ran the knife along the inside of the pot to loosen the sides, then he flipped it over quickly and gently eased the pudding out. There was a little bit of the tip missing but - it could easily be covered with the toffee so all in all, Remus was actually quite happy. 

“One down, five to go!” He called to Lilly but also for the benighted of Marlene who was hovering nearby, cameras trained on what Remus was doing. 

The second one came out quite well two and Remus was beginning to feel a spark of hope when the third one completely split in half - the top still in the pot.

“Oh shittttttt.” Remus sang to himself, trying not to worry too much. He just kept going, he could assemble that one later. The following three had the exact same result. Marlene was hovering around him, capturing the tension. Remus looked up and stared right into the lens as if he were on The Office and said “I jinxed myself.”

He managed to coax the top halves out of their containers and gently put them back together again. He drizzled a liberal amount of toffee over the tops before having a moment of inspiration. He grabbed the abandoned crystallised toffee and used it to decorate the tops of the puddings before transferring them all to the rectangular plate he’d be presenting them on, adding a little bit of toffee to the plate to help regain any visual aestheticism. 

“Alright bakers!” Sirius called, “Your time is up. Please walk your cakes up to the table at the front of the tent.”

Lily walked up next to Remus and mimed ‘accidentally’ bumping into Peter and Remus snorted as he set his plate down behind his picture.

“You’re insane,” He whispered to her as they sat down on their stools.

“You love me though.” She quipped back and Remus grinned at her before the judges came out.

“Hello again bakers!” Dumbledore greeted. They chorused back a hello and then the judges set to work. The judges actually cringed when they bit into Peter’s dish and on the other side of Remus, Peter was quivering a little.

“Our tip to be mindful with the vanilla went unnoticed with this one it would seem.” McGonagall commented and Remus had to stop himself from looking at Peter to figure out what the hell he did.

“It would appear this person included their vanilla pod.” Dumbledore said, trying to hide his cringe. “For future reference, it’s the seeds inside the pod you eat, not the outside layer.”

Remus knew Peter’s face was bright red without even looking at him, but he didn’t glance to the side for fear of giving away who had actually made the cakes.

Remus’ were up next, McGonagall looking at them cynically. “The presentation is quite lacking I must admit.”

“Yes, they’re a bit messy,” Dumbledore agreed as he cut into one. They each took a bite, nodding solemnly for a moment. “They certainly taste good though.”

McGonagall nodded in agreement and just like that they had moved on to the next person’s work. Remus let out a deep sigh. It wasn’t how he had wanted it to go but… at least they had tasted good. He was still annoyed at himself for forgetting the parchment paper but he had to let it go now.

The  judges were quick to decide this week. With only five contestants left and a tangible need to make it to the semi finals next week, there was a buzz in the air, at least it felt that way to Remus.

Or, it did feel that way until he came second last in the technical and suddenly he was seriously beginning to fear that this time next week, he’d be at home.

Peter came last. Tonks won; Kingsley and Lily filling in the middle spots.

Remus headed back to the hotel, talking quietly to Lily but really just planning his strategy for tomorrow. Considering his recipe. Mentally changing the flavours, then switching them back. The order he would make everything. If he should just head straight to the practice tent and make it one more time. 

Lily wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against him. Remus used to always look at people walking like this and think it must be so incredibly awkward, but this felt natural.

“It’s better to rest now then practice some more. You’re ready.” She said as if she could read his mind. Maybe after five weeks of being together every day, she could.

He smiled and placed a kiss to the top of her head, loving their friendship. “Thanks Lils.”

She peered up at him, those eyes vibrantly green, hidden slightly under her eyelashes. “Wanna make hot chocolate?”

Remus grinned as he put his arm over her shoulders and gave her a grateful squeeze. “That sounds like heaven.”

The next day began with the sunlight filtering slowly through the open windows as Remus got dressed. It was late enough in the year now that he woke up in darkness, but he always liked getting to watch the sun rise so it didn’t bother him. The air was crisp outside when he walked down with Lily and it felt like a new beginning.

“Let’s do this.” Lily said, holding out her fist as they entered the tent and Remus looked at her in mild amusement, but bumped his knuckles against hers lightly.

They set up their stations quietly, not having much to do, Remus just liked it organised slightly differently to the way the cleaning crew left it. Everyone seeped in quietly, the tension from yesterday lingering. 

Marlene announced their start and suddenly they were off, James and Sirius bantering away with a familiar chemistry rarely found between two presenters.

“Welcome back for the showstopper challenge!” James greeted, Sirius grinning at his side. “Today our judges have asked you to reimagine a dish as a trifle.”

Remus remembered the first time he had heard that and thought it was a little weird, but he liked it. Back then he had planned to have a ‘death by chocolate’ theme but he changed his recipe last week. Lily was making a carrot cake creation that looked amazing. Tonks was wowing with a baked Alaska inspired dish. Peter had embraced chocolate chip cookies and they were featuring heavily in his. Kingsley was doing something with a lot of apples but Remus didn’t know many of the specifics. Kingsley wasn’t secretive, but he wasn’t majorly talkative either.

“You know Sirius, I once fought with a man over his multi layered cake,” James was saying vibrantly.

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. However I soon learned he was not to be trifled with.”

The light went out of Sirius’ eyes. “You’re fired.” He said to James in a deadpan voice and the entire tent burst into giggles.

Sirius sighed and turned to everyone. “On your marks, get set, bake!”

“Hey! We’re supposed to say that together!”

“Yeah well I fired you so it’s mine now.”

Remus couldn’t stop himself from chuckling as he set to work. Was he unsure of what was happening between himself and Sirius? Yes. Did he still have feelings for the man? Undoubtedly. 

He immediately set to work making the meringues, those were gonna be hard to get done in time - they took two hours in the oven and then they had to cool down completely before Remus could do anything with them. He whipped the egg whites and sugar on high speed, until there were ‘stiff peaks’, the mixture was lovely and shiny and Remus felt like he was spooning marshmallow into his piping bag.

He made three circles of meringue, all the same size as his trifle dish along with a few little meringue kisses to decorate the top. He popped the trays into the preheated oven and set to work preparing everything else. He turned around to grab a tea towel and his elbow hit a glass bowl on the counter and it fell to the ground, shattering and leaving sparkling shards all over Remus’ station.

“Crap okay, can I get a brush over here please?”

A crew member helped him sweep it up as quickly as possible so he could get back to work. James sidled up to his counter as he started making a lemon curd, a suspicious grin on his face.

“I see you’re having a smashing time.”

Remus looked up from adding the grated lemon rind. “I thought you were fired.”

James just laughed and ruffled Remus’ hair in a way that if anyone else had done it, it would have annoyed Remus, but it was okay from James.

“I’ll let you get back to work.” And then he was off and Remus could once again focus. He looked down into his pot and nearly started to cry. It had curdled. 

He stepped away for a moment, covering his face with his hands as he took a deep breath. It would be okay, he had time to make more. It just seemed like ever since Sirius had walked away a week ago, nothing had gone quite right.

On Monday, the restaurant made a mistake and gave Remus normal pasta, resulting in him being very sick for a while. On Tuesday, a pair of shoes he had long since worn in gave him blisters. Wednesday had him spilling tea all over his special edition book. Thursday he ripped a hole in his favourite cardigan and Friday Sirius walked into a room, saw Remus and immediately left. Saturday had been the signature and technical challenge and now he was here.

He jolted when a hand gingerly reached out and touched his shoulder. Light as a feather at first, barely the brush of fingertips but then the palm of the hand pressed reassuringly into Remus’ skin.

“Re?” Sirius asked. Remus heart soared and shattered at the same time. How was that even possible? 

“I’m fine it’s just a lot today I think.”

“Do you want to step outside for a few?”

Remus shook his head as he turned to face Sirius. “No it’s okay, thanks. I don’t have enough time.”

Sirius’ eyes were conflicted for a moment but the next thing Remus knew, he was being pulled down into a tight hug.

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled, “I should have asked first, it’s just you looked so upset and-”

“It’s okay.” Remus whispered, his mouth by Sirius’ ear.

He pulled away reluctantly, wanting to stay in the comfort of Sirius’ arms longer but very aware of all the cameras trained on them.

“Thanks,” He mumbled to Sirius, his face flushed. “I should get back to it.”

Sirius nodded and Remus went back to work, the presenter heading off to chat to someone else. Taking another breath, Remus began grating another lemon. It was time to start again.

Assembling the trifle was possibly Remus’ favourite showstopper to put together so far, just because of how simple it was. He placed a meringue disk at the bottom, followed by lemon curd, then repeated it twice, until his top layer was a bright yellow substance. He grinned looking inside the glass dish - he was really glad he chose to pipe the curd in, it made the lines much cleaner.

He placed the meringue kisses on top, then grated chocolate over everything and he finished just as James called time.

Remus watched the judges fall in love with Tonks’ amazing baked Alaska and beamed at the praise for his friend. Lily did very well too. Kingsley had a few problems but overall he seemed quite happy with his baking. Peter’s was only marginally better. And then it was Remus.

He walked up to the table at the front of the room, suddenly very aware of Sirius standing with James to the side of the judges.

“Remind us of what this is inspired by Mr Lupin?” Dumbledore asked as he and McGonagall took in the trifle.

“Lemon meringue.” Remus said, his chest tight.

Sirius’ looked up sharply, meeting his eyes. Remus nodded minutely.

They each took a helpful and took a moment considering the flavours.

“I’m impressed, Mr Lupin.” Dumbledore said. “I was worried the curd would be too wet and dissolve the meringue.”

McGonagall nodded. “Were you not worried that this might be a little simple for a showstopper?”

Remus shook his head. “A classic is a classic for a reason.”

McGonagall graced him with a very rare smile and for the first time this week, Remus felt like he had done something right.

They all sat on the stools a little while later, waiting and waiting and waiting while the judges took the longest time to decide yet this series. Remus knew it was down to Peter and himself. One of them was going home today. Remus just didn’t know who.

Peter had done a little worse than Remus yesterday, but had recovered a lot today. Remus knew he himself had also gained some ground, he just didn’t know if it was enough. He hoped it was. He feared it wasn’t.

James and Sirius emerged first, the judges next, none of their faces giving anything away.

“Today I have the pleasure of announcing star baker.” James said smiling, “For the second week in a row… Tonks!”

Remus grinned and kissed Tonks on the cheek as she was sitting right next to him. Both because he was proud of her but also to mess with Twitter a little bit.

“Sadly, I have the awful job of announcing who’s going home today.” Sirius said, nothing about him giving anything away. Remus’ heart pounded, he could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. “This person has been a pleasure to work with and we’ll all be very sad to see them leave.”

Remus found breathing a little difficult. Would Sirius just hurry up and say it?

“Leaving us today will be… Peter.”

Down the line a little, Peter’s shoulders slumped and while Remus was disappointed for him, all he could feel was the adrenaline surge now that all the tension had melted away from his body. They all lingered in the tent for a while, congratulating Tonks and giving Peter their commiserations. 

McGonagall came up to Remus at one point and spoke to him quietly. “Not your best week Mr Lupin.”

Remus shook his head. “No.”

McGonagall met his eyes. “You have amazing potential. I’ve seen you do great things, I hope I get to see them again.” She said before slinking back into the crowd. Remus blinked. It was possibly the most reassuring thing he had ever heard about his baking. He wanted to write her words down so he could keep them forever.

He was staying a little while longer.

Remus went straight to his room when he got back to the hotel, skipping the usual gathering they had after finishing filming that week as he was just exhausted after his day. He threw his clothes over the back of a chair in his room to be put away tomorrow and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, a thick pair of socks on his feet. He turned off the over head light, flicking on his lamp instead and just about to crawl into bed with his book when he heard the faintest knock on his door.

He frowned, a little wondering who it could be. Lily? No, she would be downstairs talking to James. Not Tonks, her knock was loud and vibrant. Peter was packing-

Remus opened the door and there stood Sirius, who’d also changed into cosier clothes, looking almost lost in the depths of his massive jumper. For the first time since Remus had known him, Sirius looked unsure.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly. Remus bit his lip for a moment before nodding and stepping inside. 

Sirius gazed around his room for a moment, snorting at the clothes thrown haphazardly over the chair.

“You didn’t strike me as messy.” He mused.

Remus blushed. “I’m not, I'm just tired.”

Sirius turned around. “I can go?”

“No it’s alright.” Remus had a feeling that if Sirius didn’t say why he came here now, it would be forever forgotten.

Sirius looked at the ground, scuffing his socked toes on the carpet. “Have you ever read about people I date in the tabloids?”

Remus frowned and quickly ran what information about Sirius he knew through his mind. “No? At least, I don’t think so.”

Sirius smiled ruefully. “That’s because I haven’t dated anyone in a long time. Ever really.”

Remus felt his lips part slightly. “Ever?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I mean a little in school but I don’t know if it really counted.” He kept looking at the floor. “I mean, I have flings or whatever but I don’t date. At first I was too preoccupied with building a life away from my family. Then I was so busy, focusing on my career. Then,” His voice grew soft like he was a little embarrassed, “It had been so long I was afraid. I forget sometimes, when I’m with you. But then that day, I remembered.”

Remus didn’t have to ask what day. I remembered. Sirius had said it then too.

And it was so dumb of me but I was afraid of having you.” Sirius finally looked up at Remus. Grey met amber and all was right. “But then today I worried for a moment that I was going to lose you.”

Remus laughed a little wetly. “You make that sound like I nearly died or something.”

“Shut up I’m trying to be romantic!” Sirius protested, but his cheeks were flushed.

“Sorry.” Remus said, but he was smiling faintly. He reached out and brushed Sirius’ fingers with his and Sirius caught his hand and held it.

“But I realised I’m afraid of being with you, but I guess I’m going to have to get used to it, because I’m terrified of being without you.”

Remus swallowed, wetting his lips. “What… Are you.. Wait?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah.”

A little smile danced on Remus’ lips as he took a step closer and lowered his face down so he could nudge Sirius’ nose with his own. “I guess we can be a little scared together then.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up and Remus was about to kiss him but before he could move, Sirius had surged up and pressed his lips to Remus’.

Remus melted into it, wrapping one arm around Sirius’ waist, the other removing the hair tie from Sirius’ bun to be tossed somewhere that would probably never be found so he could finally tangle his fingers in the inky black strands like he had dreamed about doing so many times.

Sirius kisses were just like his personality. Confident, purposeful, Remus thought as Sirius nipped his bottom lip and Remus opened his mouth for him. Strong. At some point, Remus backed into the bed, his knees giving out so he sat on the edge while Sirius just straddled him, never even breaking away.  The pace was new and thrilling to Remus. A sweet caress of the tongue could lead quickly to a desperate clash of teeth and back again in just a moment. 

“You made lemon meringue.” Sirius murmured against hips lips. Remus grinned and nodded.

“It’s your favourite.”

Sirius pulled away first, his chest heaving and his lips red and swollen, shining from Remus; own saliva. That thought alone had Remus chasing his lips for another taste. Sirius smirked but kissed him sweetly for a minute before pulling away and resting his forehead on Remus’ shoulder. Remus could just see those eyes he loved so much peeking up at him from under his ridiculously long eyelashes.

“So you and me?” Sirius asked. “We’re dating? I didn’t make that up, right?”

Remus beamed and shook his head. “You didn’t make it up.”

“Is it too early to ask to be exclusive? I really have no idea how this works.” Sirius laughed, pressing his face into Remus’ chest. Remus bent so he could nip the curve of his ear gently.

“No,” He murmured, “Well I don’t know how it goes that well either. But it doesn’t feel too early, does it?”

Sirius shook his head before lifting it and coming back to Remus’ level again. “You’re mine.” He breathed, eyes sparkling. He pulled Remus’ bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it gently. “I must be the luckiest person on the planet.”

Remus kissed him softly, pulling him against his chest. “I think that title is reserved for me.”

Sirius hit his shoulder playfully. “Sap.”

“Hey! You started it!”

Sirius giggled and kissed him again, tugging on Remus’ hair a little before pulling away. 

“I want you.” He whispered, “But I’m tired as hell. Wanna, I don’t know, cuddle and shit?”

Remus smirked, patting Sirius’ thigh lightly so they could climb under the covers. 

“Yeah,” He agreed as he pulled Sirius against his chest once more, tangling their legs together. “Let’s cuddle and shit.”

They fell asleep like that, a jumble of limbs tucked under the warm covers, fitting together like they had been made for each other. Remus had one of the best night’s sleep of his life, even missing the sun rising in the morning.

(But somehow, he didn’t mind).

[virgil-writes]

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (Heisenberg x OC)

on AO3: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven (ao3 only) | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen (ao3 only, smut) | chapter fourteen

chapter 14 - prince

SFW, around 4.7K words. Heisenberg is a man of absolutely no feelings I guarantee you

Heisenberg has never done this before, not in almost a hundred years of existence, this tangling of limbs and shirking of duties. He has never once given in to such base urges without careful thought and consideration, instead preferring his encounters planned, short and sweet, in and out before anyone could get attached. He racks his brains looking for things to say once she is awake, for ways to tell her that this means nothing and that they will go back to being flirty acquaintances who spoke to each other in riddles. He digs deep into his thoughts to bury his feelings, refuses to acknowledge their existence long before they can rear their ugly heads. He breathes in, eyes closed, to gather his confidence, to build his persona like he did with the dawn of each new day. Whoever Karl Heisenberg truly was, truly wanted to be, he died every morning and was replaced by a driven, heartless monster.

She was a smart woman, she would get the hint. He will unwrap her arms from his torso, put his clothes back on and make some stupid comment about how she had a pair of tits to die for, but he had already been far too generous by gracing her with his presence this long. Then he will smirk and exit stage left, hold the mask until he is out of sight and has entered the forest, and will finally be done with the theatrics. Perfect plan, until his breath catches in his throat when she first stirs, fingers sleepily caressing his chest like she did the night before. He curses her for never making things easy on him.

She seems confused as she pulls away from him, her lazy stretch reminding him of a cat after a long nap. Her face has softened some, the usual furrow of her brow relaxed, deviant smile replaced with one of pure serenity, like a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. “Good morning, my lord,” she greets as she rubs sleep away from her eyes, and he is glad to notice her tone has changed, away from the throes of their passion and back to the casual nonchalance they had become used to treating each other with. “Did you sleep well?” He has no intentions of answering and she does not expect it, either, slides off the couch to gather their clothing scattered about. She hands him his without looking at him, dresses in silence as he does the same. The silence is tense but not awkward, like they were both content to ignore the existence of the other and of everything that had happened between them just hours prior. “Are you staying for breakfast?” The implication that she did not expect him to is crystal clear. If there was any hope of staying longer in his mind, she had quelled it quickly with that question, like she was done with him for the day, perhaps enough to last her a lifetime. It stings, but he is glad for it.

Heisenberg busies himself with putting his clothes back on - whoever’s clothes those were in the first place -, oblivious to her pacing around the house. He believes he is out of the woods and her reserves of kindness have run dry, only to lift his head and find her holding a basket with a loaf of bread in one hand and his trench coat in the other. From afar he can see it looks ten times better than it did when he walked in wearing it, cleaner, for one, holes stitched back together. He doesn’t stay and she sees him off with the same joy she has always shown him, watching him as he grabs the trench coat and food, then his hat from a hook next to the door, waving him away like she has done every time. They sign an unspoken contract that dictates they never speak of it again, though the fine print reads that it is not off the table and might once again come to pass if the opportunity ever presents itself. His journey back to the factory is quiet and uneventful in more ways than one, the forest sleeps away the early hours of the morning and his mind is void of thoughts and worries. He cannot help but notice that the world feels different, brighter, more vibrant even, the wind not hostile and instead a gentle breeze.

Heisenberg seems enveloped in a mist of cheer and placidness for the days that follow, all he has set in motion moving along like clockwork. Sturm awakens unbidden one night, for good this time, both a blessing and a curse upon him. He manages to study its performance and sketch improvements, however finds that he has forgotten to install an off switch on the damn creature. The freak hums and whirs night and day like it is singing him the song of its people, sometimes joyfully, sometimes in mourning, and that he is able to identify when the fucking thing is happy or sad is a clear indication that he has been listening to it for far too long. A stab of guilt hits him every time he yells down towards the bowels of the factory to tell the monster to shut it, he needs to work and the noise is maddening, but he is always reminded that he is the reason for it all, he has bestowed them all with a new lease of life and now has to deal with the consequences. This is all for a good cause, he reassures himself, and once the rebellion is over he will see to it personally that those who remain are given a humane dismantling and burial.

Every now and again he visits his little witch in the woods, when his days could have been better and he needs a pick-me-up. They never speak of the stormy night and the things they had done, not unlike he had planned, but speak of everything else, and they slowly climb the steps to an awkward friendship that is never truly allowed to blossom. It felt as if every time they would give each other a key, an intricately designed, golden key that would open the lock in their hearts. And every time one would try to open it, they would find yet another, stronger lock, closer to the end but not quite, mystery maintained. It was infuriating and addicting all at once, and he had grown quite fond of the back and forth that had become the most exciting part of his life.

Happiness is a drug that he should not indulge on, he decides. Amidst his work he plans something other than rebellion, other than murder. Sketches something other than machines, looks out the window on the top floor of the factory to daydream about the cabin that stood long abandoned at the edge of his land. It was large for a home in this ass-end of the world, two floors and an attic, a cellar that was used for coal storage and doubled as secret entrance to a tunnel connecting the house and the factory. A fenced garden in the backyard, a shed for tools and firewood. The outhouse was awkwardly placed, too close to the edge, but he had always thought it gave it some extra charm. Answer nature’s call while being dangerously close to it, as it were. The masonry oven outside had not been used for at least half a century, and the well had probably dried up by now. It had been his home for many years, before Miranda took away everything that was theirs and his life with it, before he began dedicating his life to rebellion and dreams of freedom. His room was the one at the end of the corridor upstairs, with a view of the river and the forest extending beyond the confines of the village. It was cramped and cold, a single floorboard always rattled during the night when the wind hit it, the window never fully closed and his father never bothered to fix it. Still, it was home, or it had been, and he sometimes found himself thinking of the good memories he’d had before it all went to shit.

Could it be home again, he wondered? It would be one hell of a spring project, between clearing the debris, dusting and fixing everything up. Nails and the corrugated metal roof would not be a problem, naturally, and the stonework of the first floor was still intact. But he hadn’t fixed a fence in many years, hadn’t sawed nor sanded a plank of wood in longer still. He had never been very good at cleaning anything except weapons and machines, and interior decorating was simply something that had never gone through his mind. It could be a home again, he mused as he brought the blowtorch close to his face to light his cigar, and maybe it would do him good to step away from the damp vapors of the factory every once in a while. But then again, would it be worth the effort and upkeep? He doubted the haulers would make good housekeepers, and he was content enough with his independent, bare, unkempt bachelor lifestyle. But those had never been his intentions, had they? A home but not for him, a home for her, right where he could see her, where he could walk a few minutes and knock on her door whenever.

All strictly professional, of course. She would be effectively isolated from the village and the outside world. Effectively isolated from everyone but him, and he could keep tabs on her and call upon her services when necessary. It was a proposal she would be dumb to refuse: a home easily three times bigger than the one she owned, a larger plot of land for her animals and garden, peace and quiet, access to the Duke for supplies, and even some fun every now and again if she played her cards right. There was also the matter that she would be… Safer, living so close to him, but that was of little importance. Naturally. It had only just occurred to him. He had not begun at that, no. He will give it some more thought over the next few weeks - neither of them would be going anywhere, now would they?

Mother calls him later that day to inform of a family meeting two weeks and a half away, to discuss usual business. They will gather at Donna’s this time around, and it should give them all an opportunity to parade themselves to the public. This is important, you see, she begins like she always does, for their worshipers grow restless with their absence. Heisenberg often feels like she has trained the villagers as one would a dog: starve them for long enough and give them a meager treat to keep them going, teach them that their devotion is rewarded with small miracles brought by hellfire and the tearing of flesh by lycans. He has spent far too long away from the public eye and it is always good practice to remind the villagers of his splendor, she continues. He agrees to strut down main street, bless every crafter that he comes across, and kiss the top of the head of every snotty child pushed in his direction by their parents. He even agrees to wear his Sunday best: the same thing he wore every single day, but with a shiny pin in the shape of his house’s crest.

He conceives his greatest idea yet in the meantime, a soldier that combines the combat capabilities of Eins and Zwei with the mobility of an aircraft. He has Sturm to thank for it, the incessant spinning of the blades having given him the spark to try and create a flying machine. No propeller blades, he decides as the very first thing when he begins drawing the schematics. He has had enough of the noise to last him a good couple of decades. Unsurprisingly, he is caught in a trance of working and passing out and waking up to work some more in the weeks that follow, entire days spent combing through the scrap heaps to find the right materials. He is reminded that the goddamn bed had done wonders for his back every time he deadlifts another engine to pick apart, but still refuses to say goodbye to his uncomfortable armchair and the wonderful massage of its loose springs.

He figures the name for it will strike him at the right moment, and for now focuses on adjusting the thrust speed, ensuring the soldier will land adequately and not simply crash while airborne, as funny as that would look. While Sturm required a sturdy specimen, this will need someone lighter, lankier, and he finds the perfect specimen in Miranda’s latest failed experiment, a young boy of some twenty years who had been orphaned long ago and had turned to the Black God for guidance. In truth, he was nothing more than an errand boy for Mother, bringing messages to and fro, collecting tithe and offerings for her. Heisenberg is curious to know what horrible sin has led him to where he is now, dead and open on his operating table, a wound bigger than his fist where the top of his spine should be. Cadou had begun to take hold when he passed, tendrils shooting out of the infection, and he saved the recently dead nematode for further study later.

Removing the organs is always the messiest part, and he drops armfuls of guts into a nearby bucket to discard later. The boy has broken ribs and is missing his heart, a sign that he had greatly felt Mother’s wrath. Heisenberg almost pities him, alone in the world with nothing but his faith to keep him going, but sooner or later he would have to learn that was the way of the world. It had worked just fine for him, painful but invaluable. He had played the cards he had been dealt and come out on top. Perhaps in another life he would have reached out to give the kid a hand, take him in and give him a job, so long as he stayed out of his way and kept his mouth shut. But then again, perhaps in another life circumstances would not have turned him to a ruthless bastard only out for himself.

Setting up the tubing always takes the longest, delicate work that requires his full attention and steady hands. It feels like fighting an octopus at the best of times, and it is a fight he does not always win. He blows away a hair strand that insists on obscuring his vision, but all he succeeds in is having more of it fall onto his face, beads of sweat also finding their way down his forehead to pool on his brow and slide onto his eyelashes. He wishes he had an assistant every time he does this, every time he pulls a corpse open and finds that his body seems to get in the way every time more than the dead one does. He wishes he had an assistant, remembers the offer he never made her, and regrets it an instant later.

Suddenly his mind has wandered away from his subject on the operating table and has wandered off into a fantasy world, where his little witch gently pulls his hair back to tie it securely away from his face, where she dabs away the sweat on his face with a cloth that smells of wildflowers. She stands patiently next to him, takes notes and follows orders, brings him refreshments and even gives his shoulders a good rub when she feels he has been working too hard. A world where she awaits him every night after a long day, where she greets him with the comfort of home and a hearty meal. His focus is lost from that moment onward, for he is taken with the need to see her, to spend time sitting quietly beside her near the fireplace. To hold her and watch her fall asleep in his arms, to hear her laughter and exchange glib lines with her after dinner.

Goddamn witch.

The poor boy suffers the brunt of his annoyance when Heisenberg punches the side of his ribs, the body resists but does not complain and helps none with doing away with his wishes. What was he thinking, losing sight of his goals because he wants his cock sucked? This is why it was always so much better to stay indoors, to kill such annoying roaches on sight. His carefully constructed mental balance has tumbled, his nirvana disturbed. He was doing just fine before she decided to kill some random lycan and forgot to hide the fucking body. Bored, but just fine. Lonely, but fine. Incredibly depressed, but f-i-n-e. He tries in vain to return to his work once, twice, and gives up on the third time, finally accepting that it would be impossible.

Perhaps it is best if he gets it over with, no? This was but a momentary stumble. He had all but forgotten about her for the better part of a fortnight, having instead turned inward towards his work and growing his intel network by skulking around and reading through papers Miranda had ‘lost’ in transport. Just as quickly as he had latched onto her, he had let her go, back to the hum-drum day to day of developing his metal army.

Or so he thought, faced now with a burning need to walk, almost run towards the forest to catch a glimpse of her again.

He looks down at himself, for the first time conscious of how presentable he was, and decides that it is probably best if he wears something that is not covered in rotting chunks of flesh. Somehow he does not think she will mind it; she strikes him as the kind of woman who would think it adds to his charm. He changes into cleaner clothes regardless, the same moss-colored shirt she had given him the day he showed up at her cabin. An idea shines upon him as he tightens his shoelaces, and he is soon giving orders over the comm system to all haulers: clean the damn place up. Throw the garbage up and over the railings onto the scrapheap, hide it under a carpet, it doesn’t matter. He wants the place presentable enough for him to bring his little witch over - he will tell her a little bit of what he intends, he will show her some of his plans, and he will ask her to work for him. The cabin would take a while but she could always drop by for a visit. All that he has decided in the span of less than a minute, and he hopes there will be enough time for everything to be set up when he makes his way back, holding her hand tightly as he shows her all of the wonders he has created. He also hopes he can keep up the momentum and not soil the plan by chickening out a while later, though something in his mind tells him that might be best.

Heisenberg stops in front of a mirror-like metal plate to check out his hair and wipe the blood of his face, at last satisfied with his appearance and ready to make his next move. He almost skips through the factory on his way up and out of the garage. He is getting laid tonight, goddamn it.

He is surprised to find the Duke’s carriage standing just outside. It must be a Tuesday, though he feels like he last saw the man yesterday; the merchant always completed his regular schedule around the village by making a last stop near - and in - his humble abode. He had much to discuss with the Duke, things of both professional and personal nature, but now was not the time, and he walked by briskly and greeted the man with a tip of his hat, intent on simply passing by.

He knows something has gone terribly wrong when the Duke cackles, and he spots the familiar tail wag of a furry hoofed animal beside the carriage. Heisenberg stops dead on his tracks then, a cold tingle running up his spine, his mouth dry. He stares at the man, mouth agape, trying to form his question but failing miserably. Had something happened? Had the Duke known about her all along? Had he done something to her? The Duke is the first to speak, his usual jolly self, oblivious or uncaring for the situation that has begun to unfold in front of him. “Ah, Lord Heisenberg! How’s the day find you?” There is a pregnant pause as Heisenberg looks at the merchant and back at the tiny goat that bleats at him incessantly, and the Duke roars in laughter, his massive frame shaking the entire carriage. “Oh, it seems the little one likes you! Two hundred lei and it is all yours, my lord. Should be quite the tasty dinner.”

Prince seems to understand its predicament, and cries ever louder, until it is all they both can hear and the sound almost drives him insane. “Where the fuck did you get it?” Is all he manages to say, his tone vicious, but the Duke does not seem to mind it. He looks around for any other signs of her, the dog, or the horse, a chicken, anything.

“My friend in the woods has sold it to me, of course. She no longer has any use for it where she is going, and thought it best to rehome it.” The merchant’s hand reaches out to pet the goat on the head and the whole carriage almost topples over with the weight.

“You know her.” It is not a question, and though there is much he needs to ask there is little he is able to process.

“Indeed. We have been friends for many years, her and I. Since she was a malnourished little girl living under Lady Heisenberg’s protection. Since long before you were born, my lord.” The man takes a long drag from his cigar as if to give Heisenberg enough time to go through his words, and he is glad for it, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. A hundred and something years, the mention of his grandmother’s name. “She has always been quite the ravaging beauty, however. Although I’m sure that has not escaped your notice.” He can hardly contain his exasperation, not at all used to the feeling that currently boils within him. If that man had ever touched her- “She is quite a talented healer, you see. For many years now she has supplied me with the most wonderful of concoctions.” As if to prove it, he lifts up a bottle of the antiseptic he has become so famous for, gives it a little shake and flashes Heisenberg a bright smile.

“She’s gone.” Again he doesn’t ask, simply repeats the information he has been given, and wishes he had his hammer close by to crush that smirk off the Duke’s face.

“Why yes, she has left, of course. It would not be the first time,” the merchant says with a shrug. “A free spirit she is, always has been. Off to find herself some excitement and adventure, I’m sure. I have told her many a time that the village life does not suit her,” he puts the bottle down and interlaces his fingers in front of him, resting on his enormous stomach. “Yet she has come back every time. Sweet, idealistic Morganna, always so kind for her own good.” In his confusion, Heisenberg realizes he has forgotten to breathe, and inhales sharply, blow after blow though he tries to recover, and the Duke is relentless. “Ah, that reminds me, she has left something for you.” He is no longer listening after the Duke’s mouth closes, far too stunned to process what is happening. The blond man hands him a small wooden box that smells like her, and Heisenberg does not care that he can see how much his hands are shaking as he pushes off the lid. He does his best to swallow the rage and the tears that well up in his eyes, the bittersweet thought that she had remembered him before she parted. The woolen slippers lay perfectly arranged inside the box. “If you wish to find her, I am sure she has not made it very far.” Heisenberg continues to stare down incredulously, and the Duke continues to yap like nothing has happened. He has tuned out completely by the time he closes the box again and raises his head to face the merchant. He might as well have been a shadow, disoriented as Heisenberg was, his face a misshaped blob in his eyes. There is no space for thoughts and he lets himself go instead, anger bubbling so close to the surface underneath his skin.

He grabs the goat before the Duke can protest, tucks it safely under his arm, box secured in the other as he marches back inside the barn and closes everything behind him. Gone? The way down is hazy and red, one foot after the other, instinct taking him through the halls and down elevators. Gone. He feels the haulers’ gazes upon him, and hopes they won’t dare showing vestiges of humanity now, or he will kill every last one and set fire to the corpses. The door to his quarters is kicked with entirely too much force and flies off its hinges, he places Prince gently on the floor in the last showing of kindness he would ever allow himself. Gone! The box is thrown across the room and shatters against the wall, tears in his eyes, a strangled cry coming out of him before he can stop himself.

“She’s gone.” He repeats and the words feel like sand in his mouth. He knows them to be true and it only serves to hurt him further. Behind his eyelids, she takes him by the hand and skips down the stairs ever onward towards the darkness, and he knows he is far too weak to stop it now. He has no tools to explain any of it, the crying and yelling and the way his body has slid against the wall and onto the floor like a puddle of muddy, gooey, revolting water. One last bit of control tells him that he should not care, that she is not important, that this is good, that he is free from her grasp. But its screeches are drowned in the uproar within him, and all he can think of is that she is gone and he misses her.

He is once again alone in the world and, for the first time, he knows what heartbreak feels like.

[storiesforallfandoms]

something’s wrong ~ mark;midsommar

word count: 1751

request?: yes!

“Midsommar imagine about Mark where you're best friends with Josh and they always hang out. So when they go to Sweeden Mark tells on Josh for taking pictures of the book. When Josh disappears the reader is concerned but Mark tries to distract her”

description: after her best friend goes missing, she’s suspicious about what is really happening during their vacation, so he tries to distract her

pairing: mark x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

note, i still haven’t seen the movie and can’t find anything about a book josh was taking pictures of online (i.e can’t find the scene or anything), so i won’t specifically be mentioning that. sorry hun :(

Josh wouldn’t just leave without telling you. He had brought you on the trip, he wouldn’t just up and leave without telling you he was going home, or without asking if you wanted to go home, too. It made no sense, you couldn’t understand.

You were trying to get some answers from one of the villagers, but they were all acting as though they didn’t speak English, but you had heard them talking to some of the other visitors. You were starting to get agitated, and decided to be bold and approach the leader of the village.

“Hey, you,” you called, very informal, but you didn’t know his name. “Leader guy, I have to talk to you.”

He smiled at you, but something about his smile creeped you out. “Yes, how may I help you?”

“I want to know where Josh went,” you told him, crossing your arms over your chest. “No one will give me a straight answer, I want to know where he’s gone.”

He was still smiling and you wanted to punch that smile off of his face. “I am afraid I do not know who this Josh is.”

“He’s the only one in this white village with a dark complexion, you could pick him out of a lineup with no problem,” I responded. “He came with my friends and I, with Pelle. He’s been missing for days and I can’t call him cause you lot took our cell phones.”

“Ah, yes, your friend has gone home.”

Your anger was starting to boil. You balled your hands into fists at your side to stop yourself from grabbing him or hitting him. “He did not go home! He would’ve told me, he would’ve told any of us! He didn’t just up and leave without telling anyone, that makes no sense. That’s not who Josh is, not when he knows there’s no way we can contact him until we leave this place.”

The smile on the old man’s face didn’t falter, and that just made you even more angry. You wanted to hit him so bad, you wanted to hit all of these idiots. None of them gave anyone a straight answer about anything. They were all mysteriously silent, and more questionable things were happening that no one was addressing.

“He is gone home,” the village leader responded.

You opened your mouth to yell at him again, raising your hand slightly, although you weren’t sure if you were actually going to hit him. Luckily, you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder. You looked back to see Mark stood next to you, looking at the village leader apologetically.

“I’m sorry, she’s just worried about our friend,” he told the village leader.

“It is alright. I understand the worry, but your friend simply went home. He alerted us before bedtime last night that he wished to return home, so we let him.”

That didn’t make sense, but you knew fighting it was useless at this point. You were just going to keep getting the same answers. Finally, you turned away from the leader, simply glaring at him before doing so, and started to walk away. Mark walked beside you, taking long strides to catch up with your fast ones.

“You can’t just yell at their village leader like that (Y/N),” he said. “We don’t know what their customs are, they could be punishable by death.”

“Maybe I’d finally get some goddamn answers about Josh then,” you hissed.

“Why can’t you just accept that maybe he went home?” Mark asked. “I mean, he didn’t want to be here, none of us do. Maybe he struck up some sort of deal with their leader and he got to go home.”

“He would tell me, Mark,” you insisted. “We’ve been best friends since we were in diapers, we talk to each other about everything. He wouldn’t just up and leave without saying anything to me. He wouldn’t even go talk to the leader without mentioning it to me first. There’s no way he left here without telling me about it first.”

“Maybe it was a split decision thing. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to come back and tell us he left. They’re pretty private here, it would make sense to me.”

You crossed your arms and looked down at the ground. That was possible, you had to admit, but you didn’t believe for a second that Josh left without even mentioning that he was going to try to leave. There was something else happening, and it had something to do with those wacko villagers.

Mark put his hand on your shoulder again, causing you to look up at him. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat to get your mind off of things. I’m sure we’ll hear from Josh soon.”

You followed Mark to the building with the kitchen. Normally, they weren’t allowed to have food between meals unless it was a special treat. Apparently that’s how things worked in the village, they claimed it was good for health. You didn’t know how being hungry for hours without being able to eat anything was good for health, but it wasn’t like you could really do anything about it. But Mark claimed he had a way to get food sneakily before meals.

“Hey Maja,” he said, smiling at the pretty villager who was baking. She looked up at him and smiled, batting her eyelashes like an American girl trying to flirt. “What are you making today?”

“Making bread for tonight’s meal,” she responded. “We are having homemade stew!”

“Sounds amazing. You wouldn’t happen to have a leftover loaf my friend and I could share do you?”

Maja’s smile brightened as she reached into the pan in front of her. “I knew you would be coming to ask, so I made an extra loaf just for you! I also have some jams for you to put on it. Go to the back room, it will just be me today so you are safe to eat.”

Mark winked at Maja as he took the bread and jam. You smiled weakly as her, although she didn’t noticed as her eyes were set on Mark. You followed him to the back room, which was more like a janitor’s closet just without the cleaning supplies. Mark took hold of two stools and placed them side by side before sitting up on one. You got up on the other, sitting to face him. He tore a piece of the bread off before passing it to you, offering you a knife to spread the jam with.

“That’s really not fair of you, you know,” you said as you took a bite of the bread. You had never had homemade bread before, but this bread certainly tasted delicious.

“What’s not fair?” Mark asked as he began to eat some as well.

“You can’t just flirt with girls to get whatever you want. That girl seems like she’s really into you, you shouldn’t use that to your advantage.”

“Why not? It’s not like I can actually engage in a relationship with her. When this trip ends I’ll never see her again, might as well have a little fun before that happens.”

You rolled your eyes before tearing off another piece of the bread and spreading more jam on it.

There was a brief silence as the two of you ate. Neither one of you really knew what to say, so you just remained silent. It wasn’t until the bread was nearly gone that Mark cleared his throat to speak.

“So,” he started, “you’re concerned about Josh from like...a best friend standpoint, right?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Um...yeah? We’re best friends, nothing more, nothing less. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, well the group and I have been wondering for years if anything else was going on between you and Josh. You both seem so close and very, like, touchy feeling and such. We had a bet as to how long until you either got together or just confirmed that you were actually dating.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. “Oh, god, no. There’s nothing between Josh and I, and there never will be. Josh is my best friend and my best friend only. I seem him more like a brother than anything else. Even if I somehow developed feelings for him, or vice versa, we are way too deep in our friendship to try and pursuit that.”

Mark simply nodded, but wouldn’t meet your eye. You titled your head like a confused puppy. “What was your bet as to when we’d get together?”

“Never,” he responded simply.

This took you by surprise. “Really? You’re the smartest of the bunch, then.”

Mark shook his head. “No, I made that bet as more of a...selfish choice.”

You were confused by what this meant, but it soon dawned on you. “Oh...oh!”

The silence returned. Neither one of you looked at the other. You weren’t really sure how to respond. It was shocking news to hear. You wondered if Josh knew, and if he did, how did he feel about it? Josh was like your brother, so to have one of his friends have feelings for you, you knew that wasn’t going to end well with the boys.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you finally asked.

Mark’s head snapped up quickly, looking at you in shock. “Wait, what?”

You giggled at his shocked expression. “I’ve kind of had feelings for you for some time, too. But you’re Josh’s friend, I felt like it’d be weird if I tried to make a move.”

“I felt the same way! I thought that you two might have something going on.”

You smiled at him. “Well, now that you know we don’t, what do you intend to do about it?”

“I intend to take you on a date when we get back to America.”

Your cheeks were hurting from how much you were smiling, although you really didn’t mind. “I’d love that.”

He nodded and stuffed the last bit of bread into his mouth. As he was chewing it, his face changed. “Ah fuck, I’ll have to tell Josh about this when we finally get a hold of him.”

You reached forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck solider, I’ll remember you fondly.”

This caused the both of you to laugh and, luckily, you were able to forget about your worries for Mark, for just a little while at least.

[autumnsart22]

Oikawa x reader ch. 10

Hey! I hope you all are still enjoying the story. I know it’s long, I’m just having so much fun writing it. Don’t worry, it’s definitely more than halfway done. Let me know if you’re still liking it or if I should cut back on how long it is lmao

A week later, Oikawa and Iwaizumi invited me over to Iwa’s house, where they were having an alien movie marathon. All of Saturday afternoon, I worked on homework and my art (which was slowly improving as I practiced), and when 4 o’clock rolled around, I packed up a sleepover bag. I told my mom I was staying over at Kiyoko’s house, not wanting to have to explain why I was sleeping over with two boys. 

The drive to Iwa’s was less than three minutes, and I arrived right as Oikawa’s car parked at the curb. He waved as I stopped my car across the street, and I smiled as I opened the door and jogged over to him. 

“Hey chibi-chan, how are you?” He grinned. 

I smiled widely up at his, (fucking attractive ass face that makes me drool and melt everytime that he looked at me. His hazel brown eyes made my body feel like jello whenever he looked at me, and his soft brown hair made me want to run my fingers through it. His smile shone and made my heart stop, my breathing hitched and I made a guttural noise in my throat. My breathing was so hard and uneven that I probably needed a ventilator. Damn that man was too fine to be allowed to walk freely.) LMAO, prime content my friend wrote and I decided to keep it in 😂 

I smiled widely up at him, hefting my sleepover bag on my shoulder. “I’m great! How about you, Oikawa-chan?” 

“Oh uh-” His voice cracked a little and he blushed. “I’m doing good. Why are you in such a good mood?”

I shrugged, heading up the path towards Iwa’s door. “I don’t know. I just feel really happy to be able to hang out with you guys today.”  

Oikawa followed me up to the house, and Iwaizumi opened the door after only a few knocks. 

“Hey guys. My parents aren’t here tonight, so we have the place to ourselves.” 

Seijoh’s ace had been in the middle of heating up noodles, so we followed his example, setting our stuff down and meeting him in the kitchen. Iwaizumi had his speaker set up, and he was playing a rap song called “How you Feel?” by DJ Scheme, Lil Yachty, Danny Towers, and Ski Mask the Slump God. 

Iwaizumi sang Ski Mask’s part and Oikawa took Danny Towers, deepening his voice to match the pitch of the song. I covered my mouth so hard I started turning red, trying not to laugh at their terrible attempts. 

“What Y/n-chan?” Oikawa made a pouty expression, and I laughed in his face. 

“Singing is not the move for you, Oikawa-san. You should stick to volleyball.” 

“Hey!” 

After we all ate our noodles, Iwaizumi and Oikawa raided the closet and dumped a shit ton of pillows, cushions, and blankets in the living room in front of the TV. 

“Pillow fort!” I yelled, leaping on the pile with a whoop. Iwaizumi refused to participate, more happy laying on the couch while Oikawa and I created a massive and complicated fort built around the television. 

“We finished!” I pumped my fists, surveying the cushioned palace. I hadn’t made something like this since I was five, and I felt more satisfied and excited than was probably normal for an eighteen year old. 

Oikawa emerged from the kitchen with a loaf of milk bread he somehow found in Iwa’s pantry, and tossed it violently onto the couch. Before I could turn to look at him, he charged and tackled me onto the pillows, completely crushing our fort. 

I shrieked loudly, but as we fell, he wrapped me in a protective cage of his arms and the pillows cushioned our fall. 

“What the fuck Oikawa?” I cursed, gasping. 

He smirked down at me, his face only inches away. “Sorry, the opportunity was perfect.” 

I struggled, trying to get him off me, but my arms were pinned and his body crushed the air from my lungs. “Get off!”

“Hm, nope, I’m pretty comfortable,” he mumbled, arms wrapping tighter around me as he snuggled his head into my chest. 

I turned to look at Iwaizumi, who shrugged and went back to looking at his phone. I wasn’t going to get any help from him there. 

“Oikawaaaaa….” I groaned. “If you don’t get up, we won’t be able to watch!”

I hoped the threat of taking away the opportunity to watch “Arrival” would be enough incentive to get him off me. Oikawa had an obsession with aliens, more than anyone I had ever met. Obviously, it didn't even come close to his obsession with volleyball, but he still could list most of the UFO sightings on record and give a full rundown of them. He also had seen basically every alien movie in existence, and taken a few astronomy classes at the local junior college to learn more about space. 

Most of the guys on the team found it completely hilarious and/or annoying, calling him a fucking nerd whenever he brought it up. I thought it was adorable, and I loved hearing him talk about it. He just got so excited and genuine, more than I ever saw him. Usually, he put up a fake mask around other people, which slipped up even around his friends sometimes. But when it came to something he truly loved, there was no hiding how animated he got. 

As I had hoped, Oikawa groaned and rolled off me, allowing me to struggle to a seated position. 

“Iwa, did you rent the movie?”

Iwaizumi nodded, tossing his phone aside and grabbing the remote. Oikawa and I jumped onto the couch, and I ended up squeezed in between the two boys even though there was plenty of room to spread out. I was comfortable though, so I didn’t complain. 

The movie started, and I shifted my legs so they were laying across Oikawa’s lap, leaning my head on Iwa’s shoulder. Oikawa tore open the wrapping of the milk bread, passing me a large piece and stuffing a bite in his mouth. It was delicious, as usual, and I continued to munch on it as the movie started. 

The movie was amazing, way better than I expected. It wasn’t a basic pop culture alien movie like most of the genre I had seen, and was much more ominous and realistic. Halfway through, I glanced over at Oikawa to see him leaning forward, eyes bright as he stared at the screen. I felt my chest squeeze, happy to see him happy. 

There was a major twist at the end, making Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and I all lose our shit, and it took five minutes to calm our captain down. 

“That was so good!” Oikawa said, practically bouncing off the walls. I laughed and looked at the clock. It was 11pm, but it was also a Saturday, so there was no need to go to sleep any time soon. Oikawa clearly had way too much energy anyway, so I poked Iwaizumi. 

“What should we do now?”

Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, a creepy smile on his face. “One second, lemme just grab something.”

As we waited for Iwa to come back, I tore off pieces of milk bread and threw them into Oikawa’s mouth. My throwing skills were terrible, but he still ended up catching most of them due to his excellent reflexes. 

I threw another right as Iwaizumi emerged from his room and smacked the bread out of the air. Oikawa let out an outraged yell at the lost bread, but Iwaizumi ignored him. 

Coming over to sit beside me, he handed me what he had gone to get from his room. It was a magazine, Monthly Volleyball, dated from a month ago. 

“What is this?” I asked, and Iwaizumi flipped through the pages, snickering under his breath. 

Oikawa came over, looking down at the magazine before practically choking. “Iwa-chan, you--!” 

We stopped at a page, and I let out a surprised laugh as I noticed Oikawa’s picture taking up half the page. The setter tried to snatch the magazine from me, but Iwa jumped over me and tackled him. 

“Tooru Oikawa’s favorite food is milk bread,” I read, giggling and covering my mouth. 

“If you’re trying to embarrass me, Iwa, it’s not going to work,” Oikawa declared, crossing his arms, but his cheeks were tinted slightly red. 

I kept reading. “His personal motto is: if you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks? Wait, what does that even mean?” 

Iwaizumi snickered, and I was practically wheezing from laughter. 

I glanced up at Oikawa, only to find him smirking, eyes dark. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Oh, gross,” Iwaizumi snapped, and I felt my cheeks redden. I tried to laugh it off, but it came out a little breathless, and Oikawa looked triumphant. 

Later that night, we set up the beds in the living room. I was on the couch, while Iwaizumi and Oikawa slept on the floor in sleeping bags. 

It was almost 3am, and I was exhausted, so the second I curled up on the couch, I was asleep. As I drifted off, I felt a gentle hand running through my hair, and low voices murmuring to each other, but I fell asleep before I could figure out what they were saying. 

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

[yellowocaballero]

Small Joke Story Bc I’m Not A Coward

 “Everybody shut up, we only have three hours to detail the greatest conspiracy theory of our time,” Melanie said severely, uncapping her marker. Jon perked up. “You don’t get a fucking vote, Jon.”

“Why not?!” 

“Because this is the greatest trick the devil ever pulled,” Tim said seriously, moving to stand on the other side of the whiteboard from Melanie and uncapping his own dry erase marker. “Convincing the world that he was from California.”

Everybody stared at Tim and Melanie, who were both wearing matching expressions of grave seriousness. Martin began kneading his forehead. 

Under her breath, Sasha muttered, “Not this bullshit again.” At Basira’s flat look, she explained, “Every single solitary time Tim has a few margaritas too many at our favorite Tex-Mex place he goes on about this stupid theory he has. He’s been convinced since, like, our first month of working here.”

“I’ve been building evidence for years,” Tim said furiously. 

“My Buzzfeed background has made me perfectly suited towards collecting evidence and making neatly formed lists,” Melanie said. She drew a T-chart on the whiteboard and wrote on either side ‘PROBABLY CALIFORNIAN’ and ‘DEFINITELY A BODY STEALING PURITAN GHOST FROM THE SALEM WITCH TRIALS’. “I reached the inevitable conclusion independently of Tim, and we worked together to put together this rhetorical argument. I know by the end of it all you’ll agree with us that Elias Bouchard is an evil ghost.”

Hm. 

Martin slowly fed Jon another piece of fudge, knowing that this conversation was going to upset him. 

TMA American AU, made as a result of four hours of increasingly inane text messages between myself and @lazuliquetzal. Every time we bring this show further from Britain it is brought further into the light. 

Read the rest of it under the cut!

The timing had to be exact. 

They had agreed to wait for the 55th Annual Historical Salem Convention to roll around. It was the closest thing they had to security while working at the Usher Foundation. After a while you really did get used to eyes constantly watching you, all the time, never feeling quite safe in your own skin, but it never really hurt to be careful. Especially when it came to Elias Bouchard. 

Personally, Martin really didn’t see what the big deal was. Of course there was a mysterious, malevolent entity always watching you, judging you, finding you wanting, and finally condemning you to eternal suffering. God existed. 

Still, it seemed to bug the others, so Martin bribed Rosie with a loaf of his trademark sausage and cheese loaf to let him know when Elias excitedly left for his favorite event of the year. When he got the text from Rosie, Martin stood up from his chair, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Bouchard has flown the coop!”

On the turn of a dime, everyone stopped pretending to work. Tim threw down his pen, Melanie jumped up and ran to go wheel out the whiteboard, Basira tossed her book over her shoulder and pulled out her secret legal pad, Daisy logged off her favorite website GunShoppersUSA.com, Sasha spat out her chewing tobacco into the tin on her desk and put her boots back on the ground, and even Jon emerged from his office with a grim expression. 

“It’s time,” Tim said grimly. “It’s time that we all find out the fuckin’ truth.”

“I keep on telling you, you’re over-reacting,” Jon insisted. He dug his hands in the pockets of his Harvard hoodie, scowling. Martin fastidiously arranged the plaque on his desk (“Your Life Is A Gift From God: What You Do With That Life Is Your Gift To Him”) as he imagined ripping it off him. Best not to be inappropriate during work hours. “Why put forth all the effort for such a stupid lie?”

“It’s hardly his first lie to us,” Basira said, seemingly bored and watching Jersey Shore on her phone. “He also lied about not being an omniscient serial killer.”

“This is different!” Tim said, slamming his fist on his desk and Melanie rolled the whiteboard in. “That’s a matter of common sense. Who wouldn’t lie about being a serial killer?”

“If I was a serial killer I wouldn’t lie about it,” Sasha said with a straight face. “I’m not a pussy.”

“I am a serial killer,” Daisy said, bored. 

“You guys are fucking freaks,” Tim said.    

“Jesus christ, just say y’all,” Sasha said, yet again. Martin nodded fastidiously. 

“All’a youse be quiet,” Jon muttered. He walked forward and sat down in the chair next to Martin’s desk, which made him flush. Martin quietly pushed over his big candy bowl full of fudge, which Jon absently took and stuffed in his mouth seemingly without realizing it. “What’s alla this ‘bout, then?”

“Wow, he really must be tired,” Basira muttered to Daisy, who looked strongly as if she was pretending not to mark down whenever Jon’s hilarious accent jumped out. 

 “Everybody shut up, we only have three hours to detail the greatest conspiracy theory of our time,” Melanie said severely, uncapping her marker. Jon perked up. “You don’t get a fucking vote, Jon.”

“Why not?!” 

“Because this is the greatest trick the devil ever pulled,” Tim said seriously, moving to stand on the other side of the whiteboard from Melanie and uncapping his own dry erase marker. “Convincing the world that he was from California.”

Everybody stared at Tim and Melanie, who were both wearing matching expressions of grave seriousness. Martin began kneading his forehead. 

Under her breath, Sasha muttered, “Not this bullshit again.” At Basira’s flat look, she explained, “Every single solitary time Tim has a few margaritas too many at our favorite Tex-Mex place he goes on about this stupid theory he has. He’s been convinced since, like, our first month of working here.”

“I’ve been building evidence for years,” Tim said furiously. 

“My Buzzfeed background has made me perfectly suited towards collecting evidence and making neatly formed lists,” Melanie said. She drew a T-chart on the whiteboard and wrote on either side ‘PROBABLY CALIFORNIAN’ and ‘DEFINITELY A BODY STEALING PURITAN GHOST FROM THE SALEM WITCH TRIALS’. “I reached the inevitable conclusion independently of Tim, and we worked together to put together this rhetorical argument. I know by the end of it all you’ll agree with us that Elias Bouchard is an evil ghost.”

Hm. 

Martin slowly fed Jon another piece of fudge, knowing that this conversation was going to upset him. 

Sasha, from where she was sitting across from him, noticed the action. She smiled reassuringly at Martin. “Don’t worry. I kinda...I kinda get Tim about the Elias secretly being British thing, but there’s no way there’s any witchcraft going on here.”

“I just heavily disapprove of witchcraft,” Martin said haltingly. “And I really don’t think it’s something we should joke about -”

“We know,” everyone said. 

“You tried to exorcise Jane Prentiss,” Tim pointed out. 

“She was of the Devil! So sue me!”

“She was definitely of the Devil,” Sasha agreed. “I’ve seen hordes of insects that big plenty’a times, and they’re definitely Devil work. One time, I saw this spider the size of a dinner place eat a bird -”

“Shut up about the bird spider,” Jon screamed, “I am sick to death of the bird spider -”

“She was of Portland,” Basira said flatly.

“What’s the difference?” Daisy asked. 

Basira fixed Daisy with a cold, beady stare. “Unless you want everyone in this room to know exactly what place you got in the Miss Kentucky County Fair Pageant -”

“Second,” Jon said, “it was humiliating.”

Daisy took out her hunting knife the size of her forearm, which Basira quickly wrestled from her, and it took another twenty seconds for Sasha to call the room to order. Martin stared longingly at the gun cabinet they kept in a corner of the room underneath a big pile of boxes, which everybody had a key to but Jon. 

“Okay,” Tim said loudly, after the room had returned to relative order. Mostly through Martin feeding Jon the toffee fudge that kept his mouth glued shut for at least the next few hours. “To recap. Our evil boss, Elias Bouchard, is a well known douchebag asshole cuntface. He is gnarly as fuck. He is uncool.”

“Mfmf,” Jon said.

“No, it was pretty fresh how he framed you for murder. Let’s cover what we know of his background.” Tim rapped the whiteboard. “Pothead rich kid from San Diego. Now, everybody knows certain things about people from San Diego. Rich! White! Hipster! Dope on the waves. But not as dope as me. Really rockin’ zoos. San Diegoans are cool dudes who are great to hit a vape with.” He rapped the whiteboard again, much more empathetically. “Elias Bouchard is none of these things but rich and white!”

“That’s all you need,” Basira said flatly. 

“Vaping is really bad for you, you know,” Martin said reproachfully. 

Melanie took out her vape threateningly, making Sasha throw the stuffed alligator she kept on her desk at her to knock it out of her hands. “No sources of ignition in the archives, Mels!”

“Now, let’s go over my evidence,” Tim said loudly. “In the interest of fairness, I will list reasons that Elias may actually be from California.”

“Are we going to go over his means, motive, opportunity, anything?” Jon asked, seemingly bored, having finally swallowed his fudge. 

Tim’s eyes locked in on Jon’s. Jon quailed. “I’m sorry,” Tim said pleasantly, “are we going to actually stop and wonder about why someone would, hypothetically, want to do something stupid before accusing them of it and, perhaps, stalking them to their homes?”

“Massachusetts isn’t a stand your ground state,” Daisy whispered to Jon. “We’re in coward territory, you can take him.”

“If you call the North coward territory one more time, Daisy -” Basira said threateningly.

“Anyway!” Melanie said loudly, as she wrote on the whiteboard. “It’s possible that he is from California because he’s rich and white.” She wrote down ‘privilege’ in big letters on the board. “However, as we know, there is rich ethnic diversity in California. Do you know where else rich and white people live? 17th century Puritan England.”

“I have a reason why Elias could be from California,” Sasha said seriously.

“You have the floor, hun,” Tim said. 

“He’s an asshole.”

Melanie silently wrote down ‘ASSHOLE’. 

“Pretentious,” Jon called. 

“Big talk from the Brooklyn Boy,” Sasha called back. “Gentrified Gentleman! Colombia Copycat! Big Apple Asshole!”

“I oughta kill youse,” Jon hissed. “Disrespect the boroughs in my house again and I’ll show you how 84th street boys do it -”

“You and what square mileage?!”

Melanie, who was the most emotionally honest out of all of them, wrote down ‘PRETENTIOUS’ anyway. 

“Now, let’s move onto the real arguments,” Tim said, clapping his hands to restore order. “Let’s review. Mels, make sure you get this down. One time, I saw him parking in December, and he drove well in the snow. He’s a natural at it.”

Silence bore down over the assembly. That was, by far and away, extremely incriminating. Californians couldn’t drive well in the snow if you held a gun to their head - Daisy had checked. 

“Moreover,” Tim continued. “I tried sharing my korean-ecuadorian-french-thai fusion food truck take-out with him and he refused. Can a Californian refuse the siren call of food truck fusion cuisine?”

“That is suspicious,” Jon said grudgingly. 

“Tim and I experimented,” Melanie volunteered, as she wrote down ‘EATS LIKE AN OLD PERSON’ on the whiteboard. “We tried cranking down the temperature in his office to - get this - sixty degrees. He didn’t even notice.”

“I haven’t heard him complain about winter once,” Tim pointed out.

“Winters in this infernal land fucking suck,” Sasha groused. “If it’s below 100 degrees it’s too fuckin cold.”

“Bood,” Daisy said. 

“Agreed,” Martin said. “I had to figure out what snow chains are.”

“I can’t drive,” Jon said proudly. Martin patted his hand. 

“Moreover!” Tim said. “I asked him his opinion on reality TV and he said that he didn’t watch it. I asked him what his favorite outdoors activity was and he said ice fishing. Every summer he goes to Maine with his shitty husband to go ice fishing. It’s bullshit.”

“Elias is gay?” Jon, Known Worst Gaydar In The Fucking World, said in surprise. 

“Put that down in the pro-California column,” Daisy said. Melanie wrote down ‘GAY RIGHTS’ on the board. 

“I hope you don’t let the fact that Elias is gay influence why you righteously hate him,” Melanie said to Martin seriously. “Gay rights are important, Martin. I believe this very strongly.”

“Aw, bless your heart,” said the guy who had been thrown out of his small Oklahoma town and excommunicated when he was eighteen. Not that anybody knew that. Martin didn’t believe in oversharing. Everyone took one look at the bolo tie and Precious Moments desktop calendar and assumed heterosexuality. What if he just liked bolo ties? What if Precious Moments was cute and sweet?

“Okay, back on topic,” Tim said, as if they had ever actually been on topic. “I have a finishing blow for all of you. This’ll blow your socks off. It’s really the coup d’tat. That’s a little something we say in California to show that we really got this sucker on lockdown. One time, Melanie saw him eating Taco Bell in the cafeteria -”

“ - and enjoying it,” Melanie said viciously. “Then I walked up to him and went, hey boss, what’s that you eating? And he said -”

“Just having some Mexican food,” Tim spat. 

Everybody sat in silent observance of this crime. 

Finally, Jon rubbed his chin and said, “I just don’t get it. Why would you pretend to be from California? It’s a mediocre state.”

“Say that to my SoCal beach bum face -”

“It’s to hide the fact that he’s the ghost of a 17th century Puritan witchfinder bodyhopping in order to feed his infernal god of paranoia and suspicion,” Melanie said, with a straight face. 

Cautiously, Basira said, “And you got to that conclusion...how?”

“By using the investigative skills I learned at Buzzfeed,” Melanie scoffed. “Duh.”

But now Basira was actually looking thoughtful.  “I mean, there is the fact that the Usher Foundation is built on a sacred Native burial ground and is precisely located on the ancient site where witches were sentenced to death, constructed using the wood from their holy pyres?”

Everybody thought hard about this. 

“If he pretended to be from Florida I would have caught him out in a second,” Sasha said finally. “Man looks like he’s never seen a spider bigger than a saucer.”

“Shut up about the fuckin spiders -”

“I’ve seen the rats in NYC, they look like they could do my taxes -”

“That’s their prerogative, James!”

“I’d be able to call him out in a second if he pretended to be from Jersey City,” Basira said thoughtfully. “And, come to think of it, I have heard him call a trunk a ‘boot’ before.”

“I heard him call an elevator a lift once,” Daisy volunteered. 

Everybody chewed over this new piece of information. 

“God,” Sasha whispered, looking sick. “I can’t believe an English scum has been among us this entire time. It’s terrible. I never thought I’d be forced to interact with those fuckers.” She muttered something else under her breath in Spanish, which made Jon roll his eyes. 

“You’re scared of Englishmen, of all things?”

“It’s their legs,” Sasha shivered. “Too many legs.”

Finally, Jon turned to Martin. “What do you think, Martin? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

Martin sighed. Martin carefully drank some of his world famous peach sweet tea. Martin took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. 

“Of course he’s a heckin’ seventh century puritan body hopping ghost,” Martin said finally. “I’ve known that for, say, since I was hired.”

Everybody stared at him. 

“Why the fuck haven’t you mentioned that,” Daisy said flatly. 

Martin shrugged. “Y’all done never asked.”

Jon took a second to gather himself, clearly two seconds away from flying into sheer Brooklyn Rage. 

Thankfully, Melanie was squinting furiously at him. “What makes you say that?”

Martin just shrugged again. “So I was interviewin’ wit’ him, right? And I wanted ta make a good impression, so I just said, oh, the Lord provides for our meetin’ and all that. Then he said some Bible quote at me. Then I was like, oh, I can totally work this angle. Then I quoted the New Testament back at him, and I guess we got into a sorta competition? This happens in the South. But I ain’t never met someone who can out Bible quote me. So I figured, oh, he must be a body hopping evil Puritan ghost from the 17th century.”

Everybody stared at him. 

“He called me a nice young God fearin’ boy,” Martin said. “Only Puritans and Southern Baptists do that, and he ain’t no member of my church. Plus, you know, when were fightin’ over him framing Jon for murder and how dangerous that was, he’s the only person I ever met who could use cherry picked Bible quotes as effectively as me in order to win an argument. So...really, it’s just logical.”

Slowly, Basira said, “You figured he was evil because he was an expert in your tactics?”

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” Martin said wisely. 

“Fuck this shit,” Jon said, standing up abruptly. He threw on his coat over his hoodie, frowning down at everyone from his unfair height. “I’m going down to the deli and getting me a pastrami on rye. Martin, c’mon, I’ll spot ya a Pabst.”

He had never been more in love. Martin shot upwards, throwing on his own coat and hat. “Alcohol is of the devil -”

“Just drink the beer, Martin.”

Well, there were some benefits in being excommunicated. Martin saluted everyone, eagerly linking his arm around Jon’s. “Saints keep all y’all! See you after lunch!”

“Honestly, Martin, just say youse.”

“I would really rather die.”

[gainaxvel3o]

A Miraculous Tale of Rubybug and Cat Blake Chapter 4

Previous / First / Next

The Scorpion and the Frog

"Today, students, we are going to be picking partners."

Everyone groaned. Glynda had expected this reaction from years of experience. She also expected them to get with the program once she laid out the rules.

"It is true that fashion is a competitive industry," She continued. "However no one gets to the top by themselves. Designers and models need to be able to work together in order to get anywhere. I will be picking out the teams for the rest of the semester."

Ruby Rose shook nervously in her seat. She knew that something like this would have to happen. Bringing her hands to together she prayed to get a good partner.

"Let's see here… May Zhedong and Nolan Porfirio…"

Darn, she was looking forward to teaming up with May. She looked so cute with the jacket and beanie! Okay let's see who else was up.

"Coco Adel and Velvet Scarletina, you two worked together very well I'll admit."

Another missed opportunity. Maybe she could ask them tips on fashion? They've done work in the industry maybe she can-

"Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee."

Oh no. Oh noooo.

Ruby slowly turned her head to the girl next to herself. Weiss stared at her, her eye twitching in annoyance.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… heh heh, hi?"

Weiss looked away, passing her judgement towards the smaller girl. It was going to be an exhausting assignment it seemed.

_______________________________________________________________________

They've been at this for hours.

Roman's bruised face swelled in pain from the baton that had been used to torment him. The cop, a dark-skinned woman with platinum blonde and brown hair shaved on the sides, had been interrogating him for information. Her name was Harriet if he heard right.

"What do you know about the bug?" She yelled at him. "Where did you get that power?"

Roman chuckled darkly, in spite of the agony he was in now. "What's there to know? She beat my ass. I don't remember what I did. That's what I told you."

"Fuckin hell no one gets powers and then forgets!"

"I did. Now quit whining to me."

"Enough Harriet." A pale man came over. He grabbed Harriet's arm. "We're not going to learn anything about the situation by beating him up. Let's move on to more pressing matters."

Harriet scoffed. "Fine. You got lucky pal."

"Yeah I feel soooo lucky right now…" Roman wiped the blood from his face. "Take me back to my cell so I don't have to deal with you animals."

Harriet roughly picked him up. Vine and herself opened the door and escorted the prisoner back to his cell. They passed by several guards who saluted them.

"The Chief isn't going to like this," Harriet said. "With Mayor Ironwood's campaign in question the city's going crazy. If I could get my hands on that ladybug…"

"Now is not the time for that." Vine said. "When they show up, they'll show up. For now we gather information."

"Yeah…"

As they were enveloped in their conversation, they didn't notice one guard fidgeting nervously. Travis Cornetto pulled out a loaf of bread from his pocket, passing inside of the cell.

"I couldn't get more," Cornetto said. "Sorry."

A pale hand took the bread. He examined it a bit, before immediately devouring it. Tyrian Callows hasn't had food in a while."

"You're such a gracious host…" Tyrian ate the food gladly. "Maybe there's a chance you can be made beautiful yet."

_______________________________________________________________________

"Relax Ruby, this isn't so bad."

"Not so bad! This is terrible!"

Ruby paced back and forth in the bathroom ass Tikki tried to calm her down.

"I'm teaming up with WEISS SCHNEE, the crabbiest girl I ever met even though she's a model and she could be really helpful to me but I made her mad on the first day so my career as a fashion designer might even be over before it began-"

"Ruby."

"-and she's my roommate so what if I show up as Ladybug and she finds out it's me? What if she uses me for some evil nefarious purpose like shining her shoes or taking her places even though one of those bad guys attack-"

"Ruby."

"Oh my goodness this is the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen to me!"

"RUBY!"

She let out a tiny gasp as Tikki got right up to her line of sight.

"Listen Ruby," Tikki said. "You're gonna ace the assignment and be fine. Nothing is going to happen. Now we need to talk about Nooro."

Ruby nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah you're right. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"We need to figure out where he's being located. I can sense darkness sometimes, but not himself. Do you think we have time to patrol today?"

"Sure!" Ruby said. "I can make time. I mean, Weiss might try to go to the teacher to get a different partner so during lunch break I can sneak away. A magnificent plan if I say so myself hohoho!"

Ruby pointed her finger at no particular place as she puffed her chest out. She posed as if she was a sea captain out on a maiden voyage. The image made Tikki sigh a bit in fond exasperation.

"Oh Ruby," Tikki's ears started vibrating. "I hear someone coming! Return!"

Tikki disappeared into Ruby's earrings. Just as she did, the door opened. Blake Belladonna came through the door, looking up in surprise to see someone was already inside.

"Oh it's you Ruby."

At the sound of Blake's voice, Ruby jumped.

"HOLY CRUD IT'S BLAKE!" She nearly screamed. "Sorry. I was uh… thinking? Out loud? With my lips? Human beings have lips I think."

Blake chuckled. "They certainly do. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well today is supposed to be the day we partnered up for the semester." Ruby explained. "I got teamed up with Weiss Schnee!"

"Ooof, I wish you the best of luck with that." Blake then blinked. "Wait she was in your class?"

"Yeah. She missed the first class due to a scheduling slip up." Ruby sighed. "Now what am I gonna dooooo?"

"It might not be so bad. A partner who's also your roommate can be very useful, especially someone like Weiss. She probably has a few fashion tips?"

"But she's so crabby! I want a non-crabby partner…" Ruby then realized. "Why don't you be my partner?"

"Me? We don't attend the same class and… I'm not pretty enough."

"You're very pretty! But you're right, not the same class. Daaaarn."

"Maybe you should to get along?" Blake tried to ignore the blush that was on her face. "You might be able to get something interesting done. If worst comes to worst just ask the teacher to pair you up with someone else."

"Uggghhhh why are you so right Blake?"

"I'm just experienced I think," Blake brushed a few hair strands away. "Sorry Ruby I need to um…"

"Oh oh! I can go!" Ruby laughed. "I need to go find Weiss anyway! Thank you!"

Ruby ran back out of the bathroom. Blake watched her go, letting a smile form on her lips. As she did so Plagg emerged from the ring. His smile was a little bit more mischievous than Blake's.

"Someone called you were pretty~ When's the wedding?"

"Shut up Plagg."

_______________________________________________________________________

Tyrian Callows was not a murderer. He was a serial killer.

Why distinguish the difference? Because a typical murderer is too broad, too plain to describe a being such as himself. To put it simply, Tyrian was beautiful. His hands twitched with powerful uncontrollable desire. He waited to snap the neck out of anyone who would get close to him. He wanted to take knives and stab them into someone's face. He wanted tear open insides and spread them around himself. These are the things that made him feel beautiful.

Tyrian was not insane. Insane would imply Tyrian didn't know what he was doing was wrong. He knew that he was a being of evil and did not care, because in those moments where he butchered and murdered he felt beautiful.

Cornetto was… fine. Another meat puppet alongside other meat puppets. He at least brought the food. They've been starving him for days, so someone keeping him alive is something commendable. He'll still die of course, but Tyrian will make sure he goes out beautifully.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a pretty little purple butterfly floating towards him. Tyrian remembered one time as a kid where he managed to capture a butterfly and slowly sliced off it's wings. He wanted to see what a butterfly looked like without it's wings. Tyrian took the butterfly in his hand.

"Gotcha," Tyrian smiled. "I needed a distraction from this shitty cage."

"Would a distraction really be enough to satisfy your needs, Mr. Callows?"

He got up startled. "Who the fuck are you?! How'd you get in my head?!"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm your Monarch, here to fulfill your wish."

"My wish?" He laughed, utterly bewildered. "My only wish is to be beautiful! Someone like you wouldn't understand what I've been searching for."

"Oh but I do. I've seen the way you work. That death, that chaos, those things make you a most magnificent specimen. I wish to see more of it."

"You… you do?" Tyrian said in a small voice. "You understand?"

"Indeed. Such beauty is what I seek as well. However, may propose something to you? Something you may not have considered?"

"Hmmm… go on. You peaked my interest."

"I'm glad I have. You do what you do to find beauty for yourself. But what if you could make the world around you beautiful as well? What if I can give you the power to cave out your desires?

Tyrian's eyes widened at that. Beauty for the world? He had thought such a dream was impossible to fulfill. A foolish desire! But here the voice in his head had offered him a chance to fulfill it?

"You're certainly being tempting," Tyrian bowed. "What's the catch? What do you need me to do?"

"Oh not much. I only require a set of earrings and a ring from a pair of teenagers unworthy of your talents. Other than that… you can bring as much death and destruction as you want. Why keep the world from seeing beauty for what it is?"

"Yes… yes yes YES!"

Tyrian got onto his knees and bowed. He held his head low in gratitude and awe.

"I'll serve as your Huntsman, my Queen, and bring you what you desire! It is my thanks for allowing me to find what I seek!"

"A Huntsman… I like the sound of that… Go my partner. Bring me the miraculous!"

Outside the cell, Cornetto had been hearing Tyrian whisper to himself over the past few minutes. He was disgusted as much as everyone but the crimes Tyrian committed, but he was not a man who wanted to see people suffer. That was why he brought food for the criminal.

"Tyrian please keep quiet the others are trying to-"

The cell door was destroyed right away. A slash from a tail incapacitated Cornetto, dropping his carved body to the ground.

"What the hell!?" A guard yelled. "This shit is happenin' again!"

They tried attacking with batons, but the villain was quick. He used his new pincers to stab their throats with bursted with blood. He raised his head towards the ceiling.

"I have a calling to fulfill, an order to complete!" The newly powered villain screamed across the prison. "I'm Scorpio, one of the Monarch's fine Huntsmen, here to bring beauty to this world!"

Cornetto for his part clutched his chest. He looked at Tyrian weakly, trying to form a single sentence.

"But… why…?"

Tyrian heard the question and grinned maliciously.

"Because I'm beautiful."

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay this was going to be hard.

Ruby had been heading to the table with Yang and her friends (she assumed they were friends, they wouldn't all sit together on the same table if they weren't right?) until she spotted Weiss sitting by herself.

She had the same demeanor that she had in class and the past few days. Indifference. Annoyance. The threat to murder anyone who dared to talk to her. Ruby was reluctant but she figured there was no better time to take Blake's advice. It was here or in their room, where Weiss could shut her off by slamming the door to her part of the dorm.

"Here goes nothing…"

She steeled herself. Ruby walked over to Weiss with the best smile she could muster. She sat her hand on the table, ready to say something hopefully awe inspiring, something that will get Weiss Schnee to finally-

"No."

Ruby blinked. "But I didn't even say anything."

"I knew what you were going ask." Weiss said. "No, I don't want to work with you, I won't work with you, I will not be working with you. An obvious upstart like yourself has no place in a University like this one."

Ruby blinked again. "Oh. Well thanks for making it easy then!"

She started moving away, which made Weiss' eye twitch in annoyance.

"That's it? You just give up immediately?"

"Yeah," Ruby shrugged. "I mean, you don't like me, I think you're a jerk, I'm not gonna sit through a million rounds of you putting me down while we work. Go ahead and get another partner. I don't mind at all."

"Hmph," Weiss crossed her arms. "If you fold like that so easily you won't make it far in the fashion industry."

"And if you act like a jerk then the only people in your fan club will be your butler. That you probably paid for." Ruby stuck her tongue out. "Have a nice day!"

She skipped a few steps away from Weiss, who had been left sputtering at this act of defiance. Internally Ruby was screaming at herself.

‘HolycrapIjustinsultedWeissSchneemycareerisoverbutthatfeltsogoodbutsobadbutsogoodbutsobad-’

"Hey Rubes!" Ah, Yang was waving at her sister. "What's the deal with you and Ice Queen?"

"Oh not much I was partnered up with her and then I may have just insulted her."

"Ooooohhh," Nora bopped Ruby's nose. "Tell us how it went! Were her schnees broken in despair?"

"I think Ruby would end up suspended if she did that," Ren said. "Ruby, you should be covert in your revenge. I have plans I can share."

"Can we not talk about revenge at the table?" Jaune said. "I'm trying to eat my bagels."

Pyrrha offered up a bagel of her own. "Why not have this?"

Jaune took it, looking rather funny as he devoured the bagel. "You're a life saver Pyrrha, an angel among this Earth."

Pyrrha smiled, an action that made everyone on the table skip a beat due to how pure and sweet and wonderful it was. Ruby herself would be entranced by it if it weren't for her earrings suddenly vibrating.

'An alert? Oh not now, I haven't eaten lunch yet Tikki couldn't you wait a minute-?'

The TV interrupted the thought process. Lisa Lavender appeared on the screen to give the news.

"We interrupt this program to bring you a breaking news report! Another super powered being is on the loose in the city, maiming and doing worse to civilians down on the street!

The camera switched to footage on the scene. A shaky, barely medium quality of a scorpion creature attacking people appeared. The camera was shaky

"He is calling out for Ladybug and Chat Noir to find him, the connection between them uncertain. Could they be in league?"

"Now that's bulloney!" Nora slammer fists on the table. "Ladybug wouldn't be in league with any bad guys! Didn't she save everyone from dumb bowler hat guy and his donkey army?!"

'I most certainly did Nora, and I have to go over there quick!' Ruby thought. 'I gotta get outta here!'

"Uh I need to…" She said out loud. "Find materials for my project!"

"Already? You just got here though?" Yang raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have class later?"

Ruby was already making her way to the exit. "I do, but if I hurry up I can make it! Bye!"

The group watched their youngest leave, Yang already feeling sad she left. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"She'll be fine." Pyrrha said. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing."

"Yeah Yang," Jaune laughed. "I mean, It's not like she's gonna go fight the guy on the tv or something."

_______________________________________________________________________

The quest for beauty was going surprisingly well.

These ugly, dirty people stared at him and ran, terrified in the face of himself. Scorpio was now true beauty. Not that anyone would understand of course. No one except, of course, his Queen. The Monarch offered him a chance to bring true beauty to all. He just needed to get the Miraculous.

"Hey! You brats!" Scorpio yelled. "Show yourselves Ladybug and Chat Noir! I want the Miraculous you got!"

A shadow dropped from a rooftop. Chat Noir narrowed her eyes at the creature before her. His skin was scaly, looking less human and more armor-like. He had a trench coat with a white sleeveless jacket underneath it. Leather belts were strapped to it, along with white pants. A bright red amulet around his neck stuck out like a sore thumb if offset by golden eyes that shimmered with sadistic glee. His tail slithered from side to side.

"Who are you?" Chat Noir asked. "What do you want with Ladybug and I?"

One of them was here. Good. Scorpio grinned.

"The Monarch wants your Miraculous, kitty cat." He said. "As her Huntsman, I came here to take it for her!"

"No thanks," Chat readied her staff. "You'll have to work for it."

The battle thus began swiftly. Tyrian lunged at the cat themes heroine, but she slammed her staff into his head, slamming him head first into concrete. Chat narrowly dodged the tail strike to the face. She kept her distance as pincers bursted fresh from Scorpio's hands.

"I know plenty about work," Scorpio grinned. "I'll get the miraculous and then carve you up into something truly beautiful!"

As the pincers came close to her face, Chat used the staff to block them. Scorpio was pushing her to the defensive, forcing Chat Noir to step back bit by bit.

'Think Blake, think!' Blake thought to herself frantically. 'I need to keep him busy until Ladybug gets here.'

Where was Ladybug? Blake really wished she had asked for her phone number or something. Only Ladybug had the power to de-grimmify this… Huntsman he called himself? The whole business is getting more insane the further Blake delved into it.

"What's the matter kitty cat?" Scorpio called out again. "Need a pound of tuna?"

"Sounds delicious but no." Chat said. "I'm in the mood for some tail though."

She swiped the staff towards his left leg, knocking Scorpio off balance. At another swing from his tail Chat jumped above the man, avoiding it slamming the staff against his stomach. Chat kept the staff ready as Scorpio clutched his stomach.

"Ugh, not bad not bad." He said. "I've never won a fair fight to be honest. Maybe that's why-"

He jumped away from Chat, flipping around to catch a civilian in his arm.

"-I like pull a fast one!"

"H-help!" The woman's neck was held tight, cutting off her words. "Hck-!"

Chat Noir found herself in a tough bind. Scorpio was not someone to be trusted. If he had his way, he would kill that woman and herself as soon as the miraculous was in his hands. But could she risk this woman's life for a gamble?

"Come on! Give me the ring, or whatever you use to make that trashy suit!"

Blake gritted her teeth. She moved her fingers towards the ring-

"Hold on Chat Noir!"

Ladybugs are often said to be creatures of luck. It seems it held true to the costumed heroine, who caught the villain's hand with her yoyo, pulling him away from the civilian. Ladybug landed next to Chat Noir, standing up to retrieve the yoyo.

"Hope I'm not too late Chat."

"Could have been a little faster honestly." Chat said. "Otherwise thanks for coming."

Due to the distraction the civilian ran away from the scene. As soon as Scorpio recovered and saw the two heroes, he knew he was in trouble. One against one was one thing, but two against one is a bit much for his brain to compute.

Yet he knew couldn't disappoint his Queen. She had given his life purpose! There had to be something, ANYTHING he could do.

"Seems you got me cornered." Scorpio said. "I'll take a page from the cat's example, I'll make you work to get to me!"

He made a jump, surprising the heroes by how high he could get. He made it to a rooftop and ran.

"We need to go after him!" Ladybug prepared her yoyo. "He might be up to something, so don't split from me okay?"

Chat Noir snorted, as if offended by that remark.

"Like I was going to leave you out my sight, my lady."

_______________________________________________________________________

Weiss Schnee stomped the hallways with purpose.

That annoying upstart… not only were they roommates, not only were they attending the same class, but she had to nerve to insult her like that? It was madness. She had to get another partner immediately. One who knew better.

She made a turn to the left of the hallyway, in the direction of Ms. Goodwitch's classroom. That teacher better have an explanation for her pick-

"Huh? Miss Schnee!"

Weiss had almost bumped into the Headmaster. Salem Ozpin recovered, and sighed upon noticing who bumped into her.

"My apologies. How is your day going?" Salem asked warmly. "Is Beacon to your liking?"

"It's… fine." Weiss said. "I'm trying to exchange partners."

"Oh I won't be keeping you. Who is your partner?"

"Ruby Rose," Her name came out so bitterly on Weiss lips it's like she's choking on poisoned air. "That upstart is an insult to this school. She comes here thinking she knows better than me, a model in the industry? I wouldn't be surprised if she got here through connections!"

"Oh I see…" Salem said. "Miss Schnee, do you know who recruited Ruby into this school?"

"A dope I presume."

"Well admittedly I can be that sometimes, but I think my decisions have turned out for the best."

Weiss blinked.

"That girl is quite remarkable. She was the class president for three years, arranged banquets and parties while designing truly impressive fashion work. Ruby had posted some of the work on her blog, which was how I found her out."

Weiss blinked again.

"If you give her a chance, Weiss, I think she can be really useful for your career as well as her own." Salem's smiled never left her lips. Not once. "Was there anything you needed?"

"… no ma'am." Weiss said quietly. "I think I just remembered something."

"Oh I know what that's like. Just one more thing before you go though…" Salem crossed her arms. "You are not the only one who works hard Miss Schnee. This is a privileged academy and few enter here without a skill of some sort. You cannot operate alone as you are now. My husband believed in strength in numbers when he was around. I think the same way. Do you understand?"

At that, Weiss nodded. "I will take your words into consideration, Miss Ozpin."

She walked off. It was less of a stomp and more of a gentle click clack of the heels that made noise on the hallways. Salem's smile became slightly more mischievous as she saw her student go.

"I bet you're proud, Ozma. She and Miss Rose certainly have potential."

_______________________________________________________________________

Scorpio was fast. But Ladybug and Chat Noir were pretty fast too.

"He's entering the warehouse!" Ladybug threw the yoyo at a nearby pole. "He might try to isolate us while we're inside."

"Right. Let's stick together."

With that exchange, Chat wrapped her arms around Ladybug's waist (which didn't make the red and black hero blush in any way, no siree). Once secured, Ladybug swung them both across the street, smashing through the windows. They landed squarely on the floor.

"Should we have broken through the window like that?" Chat asked. "We're probably going to get fined for that you know."

"Eh, I can fix it with a Miraculous Cure anyway." Ladybug said without worry. "Not like either of us have superhero insurance. Or would it be miraculous insurance?"

"Beats me." Chat just shrugged. "What do you think we should do?"

The two inspected the area. Several boxes were stacked together, a forklift still having boxes on the lift implying that work had been done here recently. No sign of Scorpio… yet.

"Stick together. Did he give any hint about where his possessed item could be?"

"Hmmm…" Chat tapped on her staff thinking about it. "No hint I'm afraid but I think his amulet could be it. We should focus on disabling his tail."

A pair of eyes peered from behind a box, gazing down at the unsuspecting duo.

"Good idea. If we can take that down, we'll be able to search for his object more efficiently. First we gotta find him."

The duo jumped when they heard a sinister laugh echo across the room. They kept their guard up.

"How cute. Just taking out my tail and you think you're enough to beat me? Not in a million years will you be able to take out a prized Huntsman of the Monarch!"

"Monarch huh?" Ladybug seized the moment. "Is that who you're working for?"

"Yes… She is a Queen among queens, a goddess to be revered! She understands the true beauty in death and chaos, she completes me! With the miraculous her ultimate plan will be fulfilled! HehehehehehehehehBWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

That laugh made both heroes shiver in fear. Ruby had heard it on the news, but it was here in this moment she remembered she wasn't dealing with a regular villain but a serial killer who would do whatever it takes to kill her.

'I need to trick him somehow.' She thought. 'How did Yang always trick guys into giving away whether they wanna get into her pants or not? Oh wait, it's reverse psychology!'

"If she picked you the Monarch's clearly off her rocker." Ladybug said out loud. "I mean, Scorpion guy? How uncreative can you get?"

"Tch, I see what you're doing but it's not going to-"

"No she has a point." Chat continued. "For someone all about brining beauty to the world you are simply ugly and disgusting. You never belonged in a world like this one."

Scorpio's eye twitched. "I am beautiful."

"No. Jewels are beautiful. Cats are beautiful. Butterflies are beautiful. You though? You're an ugly scorpion guy who can only make ugly things."

"Do not listen to them Tyrian," Monarch whispered into his ear. "They are trying to trick you!"

"OH YEAH?!" Scorpio- no, Tyrian, yelled. "JUST YOU WAIT, I'LL CARVE YOUR BODIES INTO THE MOST MAGNIFICENT SCULPTURES THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN!"

His purpose forgotten, the villain lunged at the opposing duo. His tail struck nothing except the ground where they originally stood.

"Ladybug, we have a chance now!"

Tyrian felt a yoyo wrap around his tail. He realized quickly what they were trying to do.

"No," He panicked. "Not the tail not the tail not the- AAAAAAHHHHH!"

Tyrian missed it as soon Ladybug decapitated the stinger. She. Cut. Off. His. Stinger. The beauty he possessed had been ravaged into disgusting ugliness.

"We got him Chat!" She yelled. "Search him!"

No. Scorpio could not allow this to stand. Tyrian will not allow this to STAND.

"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT NOW KIDS!"

The amulet glowed red. With speed the heroes had no time to react to, Scorpio slashed at their abdomens, then elbowed them to the floor. He turned around, grinning at seeing Ladybug in pain. The girl took her away his stinger, now he'll take her life.

Or would if his pincer hadn't been blocked by the staff.

"You seem to be forgetting it's two against one." Chat said, panting hard. "Come and get me."

Ladybug swiped at his leg. He pulled it back to avoid the attack, but Ladybug kicked his stomach in the mean time.

"Come and get us." Ladybug said. "Grab the amulet, Chat!"

Scorpio swung his tail around, trying to hit them with anything even without the stinger. However, Ladybug and Chat were quicker. Ladybug threw the yoyo at the villain's chin as Chat readied her hand.

"Go for it Chat!"

"No… no please!" Tyrian pleaded. "I want to be beautiful!"

"CATACLYSM!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the amulet was destroyed. A glowing violet butterfly flew out from the broken object.

"Right then!" Ladybug captured the butterfly in the yoyo. "Miraculous…"

"NO PLEASE STOP!"

"… LADYBUG!"

A red glow came and went, an army of ladybugs swarming the area. The damage from Scorpio's pincers were undone, as were the windows repaired from the heroes' breaking into the place. Tyrian no longer had the scaly body he possessed before. Instead, he wore his prison uniform, his dark hair and desperate face visible for all to see.

"No… no I disappointed my Queen…" Tyrian dug his nail into his head. "I failed, I failed, I didn't bring beauty like I was supposed to!"

Ladybug and Chat Noir could only stare at each other awkwardly as the now de-powered serial killer sobbed pathetically onto the floor. In spite of everything he had done and tried to do Ruby couldn't help but feel just a little sorry for him. Only a little. Pity was not the same thing sympathy.

The doors opened. A pair of cops stormed in with guns pointed at the heroes

"FREEZE RIGHT THERE!" Harriet yelled at them. "You're under arrest for vigilantism!"

"You have the right to remain silent." A female officer with short brown haired and dark skin said. "Resist and we won't hesitate."

Ladybug and Chat held their arms in the air. Ruby was confused by this turn of events.

"Um, we just stopped the bad guy?" She said. "We even fixed the damage, so what the problem?"

"My lady, I don't think they'll take anything but our surrender into account." Chat said. "We need to make a break for it as soon as possible."

"Try anything and we'll fire!"

Tyrian didn't hear the police's words. How could he? The butterfly's beautiful voice had disappeared. The quest for beauty was in vain. Now… he stared at Ladybug, who had his back turned to him.

He will have revenge.

"I really think you're being a bit unreasonable officer," Ladybug continued. "Perhaps if you lower your weapons we might be able to have a conversation-"

Suddenly a pair of arms surrounded her neck and stomach. Tyrian snarled.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU FOR RUINING EVERYTHING! I WON'T EVEN TURN YOU INTO A WORK OF ART, I'LL JUST USE YOUR SKIN TO WIPE MY ASS WITH IT!"

Chat looked on in horror as Ladybug struggled against his grip. If it weren't for the police holding guns at them she would do something. There was one trick, but Chat wasn't sure she was fast enough to try it. She reached into her pockets.

"L-let go of me!"

"YOU TOOK AWAY MY POWER! I WAS SCORPIO! I AM SCOR-"

His words were cut off. Whatever they would be, Ladybug only heard a loud sound and felt the arms around her slip away. She turned to watch Tyrian fall to the ground. A bullet wound on the forehead bled across the face. There was no peace in his eyes. Only shock.

"If you move then you're gonna end up like him," Harriet pointed the gun at them again. "Get down!"

"NINJA VANISH!"

Smoke bursted from the shell Chat threw onto the ground. It was thick and instantaneous. One… two… three… Harriet fired the gun into the smoke but she didn't hear anyone get hit.

"Damn it!" She looked around. "Find them!"

As they searched the warehouse from top to bottom, Chat helped Ladybug up to the rooftop. Ladybug let out a sigh of a relief.

"That was a pretty cool trick you did Chat. You really pulled us out of a jam."

"I didn't know if it was going to work. Glad it did." Chat put a hand on her partner's shoulder. "You alright?"

"Y-" Ladybug caught herself. Her eyes grew wide. "No. No I'm not okay. They shot a man in the head! I know he was a killer but- but what the hell?!"

She felt arms wrap around her. Ladybug hugged back.

"It was a difficult situation, my lady." Chat said. "It was shocking, wrong even. If had to be his death or yours I'm not shameful over it but it goes to show we need to be more careful from now on."

"I… I should have been better. I could have sensed him or-"

"No. That man jumped you. It was unexpected. You are not at fault for what he did, just as you are not at fault for what the officer."

"But-"

"But nothing. We got away and prevented another disaster. There is nothing more to it than that."

Ladybug held onto Chat tighter. Five minutes were spent like that, trying to make sense out of the freak accident they fell into. Blake had been afraid about what would happen during an encounter with the police. She thanked her stars that neither herself nor Ladybug got out of there without much of a scuffle.

A moment later, Ladybug let go of Chat. "Thank you Chat. Glad to have you as a partner I can count on."

"Heh, same for you my lady." Chat smiled. "See you around?"

"Sure!" Ladybug returned the smile. "Thanks again Chat!"

_______________________________________________________________________

As it turned out, Ruby had been pretty lucky to avoid her next class. Judging from what she had heard, Professor Port's lectures had only gotten more rambly and pointless.

She returned to her room and shut the door quickly. The image of the man's head exploded from a bullet was still burned into her memory. Ruby breathed in and out repeatedly. She needed time away from people.

"Ruby Rose."

That was a person. That was definitely a person Ruby just heard. Weiss Schnee was sitting on a chair in Ruby's workspace. She had been inspecting a paper detailing a new design idea.

"Weiss, please not right now." Ruby waved her away. "I'm tired and anxious and the last thing I need is you coming in and putting me down again-"

"If you would let me talk you might hear something different." Weiss said. "I am willing to be your partner."

Ruby blinked. "What?"

"I'll help you Ruby Rose." She got up. "I realized that I was being unfair in my assessment of you. Clearly you have some skill in order to get into this University. This design?" She handed the paper to Ruby. "It's not a bad one. With sharpening it could be brilliant."

"… thanks?" Ruby was definitely surprised to hear that. "So what? You want us to remain partners?"

"Yes. I will be critical, but if we can put aside our differences we just might be able to get through the semester. I will try to give useful advice, and you have control over how the final project will turn out."

Weiss stretched our her hand. "Deal?"

Ruby looked at the hand. Then back to Weiss. Then back again. She took the hand and shook it.

"Huh. I guess you're not all bad Weiss."

"Shut up dolt."

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Beside The Dying Fire (part eleven)

[DnD AU with the tour!verse]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Word count: 2113

TW: Blood

---------------------

Katherine let out a sharp yelp as she was suddenly thrown across the dunes. The Sand Snake she had been riding does a sharp U-turn and dashed back over to her. Both it and Catalina looked thoroughly amused.

  “You good?” Catalina peered down at her. 

Katherine spat out some sand. “Yeah,” She grunted, rising to her feet.

Sand Snake surfing was a lot harder than the Aasimars made it out to be. Way harder. She could barely even balance on the round board they had to stand on, and the harness pulled tightly at her hips as the serpent glided through the sand, but this mode of transportation was much better than walking, so she got back on.

  “Will YOU be okay?” Katherine asked, eyeing Catalina’s stomach.

Catalina laughed. “I am a PRO, Kat. I’ll be fine.” She pat the side of her bright red Sand Snake. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

The Snakes took off once again, and Katherine jerked forward with them. She wobbled on the board, grabbing onto the rope bridled to the horn of her serpent for balance. She felt like she was gliding through water.

  “What exactly are we looking for out here?” Katherine asked. All she saw in every direction were sand dunes, cacti, shrubs, and more sand dunes. There were a few pillars of old, long-fallen buildings, but nothing more.

  “Uhh… I’m not actually sure!” Catalina answered her, riding next to her. “There’s the giant scorpions and serpents, but I don’t think they’re the beasts we’re looking for. There was also the Brazen Bull, but it’s been dead for centuries.” She thought for a moment. “Oh, and there’s Parthenais, Lord of The Skies!”

  “Excuse me?”

A roar shook the dunes.

An ear splitting roar that might have rendered Katherine deaf if she were any closer. She instinctively reared back, nearly falling off of the board, and closed her eyes when sand billowed straight into her face. When they open again, they go wide at the sight of the beast lumbering in the distance.

Up ahead was a circular plate of sandstone raised above the ground, bearing thriving palm trees and lush greenery. Atop it sat a giant creature, its brass-colored scales shimmering in the sunlight. It stretched out huge, triangular wings that connected all the way down to the base of its webbed tail, making them look even bigger than they already were. Then, it pumped its giant wings and leapt into the air, blocking out the sun with its massive body.

The serpents came to a halt as the Brass Dragon swooped down in front of them. A tidal wave of sand splashed up into the air, and Katherine had to shield her face away from the spray. When she recovered, she looked up at the towering beast looming over her.

After a moment of staring with glittering orange eyes, the dragon moved again, slowly lowering its head to bump Catalina affectionately. Catalina laughed loudly and threw her arms around its large head. 

  “Parthenais!” Catalina cried in glee. “It’s so good to see you again!”

The dragon, Parthenais, growled happily. It flicked its small ears towards Katherine and looked at her.

  “Oh, this is Katherine,” Catalina introduced her. “She’s my friend.”

Parthenais extended her snout out to Katherine and nudged her gently before churring in a sort of approval and turning back to Catalina.

  “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” Catalina said, stroking the scaly plates curving from the sides of Parthenais’ head. “I just had to get away from my dumb family.”

Parthenais rumbled. Slowly, she got down on her front knees, lowering her huge body to lay like a horse on the ground, tucking both legs underneath herself. Folding her massive wings in close and curling her tail inwards, she now looked like a peaceful and happy giant scaly dragon loaf in the dunes. Katherine had to shield her eyes again when sand exploded up into the air for a second time upon the dragon deciding to lounge in front of her and Catalina.

  “You never said you had a pet dragon,” Katherine said to Catalina.

Catalina laughed. “You never asked!” She said back. She looked up at Parthenais. “Par isn’t really my pet. More like a friend.” She scratched under Parthenais’ chin.

Parthenais leaned forward and nudged Catalina’s belly with her nose. Catalina laughed lightly.

  “I’m gonna be a mom soon, Par,” Catalina told the dragon. “But first I have to save the world!” She grinned. “So, have you seen anything suspicious around here? Our mission is to slay the beasts in each of the territories, and we’re starting here.”

Parthenais churred, then lowered one wing. Catalina perked up and clambered onto her back, while Katherine just stared at her with wide eyes. Catalina laughed.

  “What are you waiting for? Come on!”

Katherine had never thought she would ever ride a dragon, yet here she now was.

  “Oh my god!!!” She screamed as Parthenais zipped through the clear blue sky. She gripped tightly onto one of the ridges along the dragon’s back, shrieking. Catalina howled with laughter at her side.

  “Isn’t this incredible?!” Catalina shouted over the wind whipping past them.

  “This is insane!!” Katherine cried.

  “I know!!!”

Parthenais wheeled around in the sky, nearly flinging Katherine off, and landed heavily in the sand. They were now in front of a narrow valley carved into from Highland Cliffs, opening up into the mesas above. The smell of roasting meat whisked out through the gorge.

  “Something is in there?” Catalina asked Parthenais, and Parthenais bobbed her head with a growl. “Alright. We’ll look into it. Come on, Kat.”

Katherine and Catalina ventured into the valley. Katherine was surprised to find that it was a lot cooler in there than out in the dunes, most likely because of the rocky overhangs blocking out the sun from above. Shifting sand turned to sturdy sandstone beneath their feet as they walked through the gorge, deeper and deeper until they came to a small clearing. Several stone shelves jutted out from the wall, sprinkling down sand in golden waterfalls. White tents were set up on one of the larger platforms around a fire, which had been burned out and abandoned. Strange sculptures made from dried wet sand formed squatting wolf-pigs on almost every ledge, staring down at them with dulled coal eyes. Strings of bones and feathers were strung up from wall-to-wall, rattling softly in the breeze. A stone entrance lied ahead, beneath an overhang, where the smell of meat was coming from.

Catalina clenched her fists at her side. “This is one of Henry’s strongholds. He’s fucking set up on my land.” She growled. “We have to take it out, Kat. We can’t let them stay here.”

  “I know,” Katherine said. “But let’s be smart about this, okay? We should just rush in there; we don’t know how many there are inside.”

Catalina took a deep, calming breath and nodded. “Right. Got it. Let’s make a plan and kill these bastards.”

--

One of the wolf-pig statues fell from a ledge and shattered into sandy pieces across the red stone floor. It wasn’t very noisy when it broke apart, but it had hit a strand of bones when it fell and alerted one of the guards inside. The human man went to go investigate, and got a chunk of rock put through his throat when Katherine jumped down from the ledge. When the second guard from inside, a Gith man, heard the commotion, Catalina snuck up behind him and slit his throat before he could yell for the others.

  “Come on,” Catalina whispered.

They slowly slunk inside the large circular room where a rock pedestal stood at the very center. A boar was roasting on a spit over a fire, turning slowly- the source of the smell. All the soldiers inside whipped their head around, and Katherine reached out to the land, and the wind, and the very heat of the sun cradled in the ground’s memory. She clenched her shaking fists and unleashed them all. 

The shabby tents set up against the walls quaked and lost structure, toppling in on themselves while several of the soldiers were impaled by stone spikes that shot out of the ground. The wind buffeted those who tried to escape the chaos and kept the unfortunate souls corralled in the center of the fray.

She spied a high elf shaman, old as time itself, attempting to shout his ritual words over the din, but the wind cut off his words and a vortex surrounded him, choking the air from his lungs.

Eventually the righteous anger of the earth subsided, and what was left were shambles. Many of the soldiers lay unmoving, choked and bludgeoned to death by the Wind Wall spell, while a few crawl about and attempt to rouse their fallen allies or see to their own wounds. Organs and shiny red blood dripped down from stone spikes, pooling across the ground. Catalina wiped her sword’s stained blade against the fur armor of one of the fallen men. Neither of them felt guilty for their actions; Henry’s soldiers brought this fury down upon themselves from the moment they joined his army, and they were merely the vessel.

Beneath the smell of roasting meat, was the smell of blood. Not fresh blood. Old, decaying blood. There was a banner of a wolf-pig up on the wall, and Katherine swept it aside, revealing a small passageway. The smell of death hit her in a thick wave and she wrinkled her nose.

She and Catalina walked down the rocky hallway and into a small room. The smell of death was much stronger in there.

  “I don’t know if I want to light a torch, Kat…”

But Catalina did, and her light shone on a stalagmite, the hair of its occupant casting shadows like sharp quills on the blood-spattered wall behind it. Katherine stepped forward, overtaken by morbid curiosity.

The person’s head hung back at an unnatural angle, and his chest was still. Long, sinuous wounds ran in bloody furrows down the victim’s back.

  “They tore his wings out.”

Catalina’s light shone down to the Aasimar’s slumped form. The feathers usually on the shoulder blades had been brutally ripped out, leaving gaping crimson holes in the flesh.

Suddenly, Catalina careened over to the side and vomited on the floor. Katherine turned to her with a worried frown and began to rub her back, sweeping her hair out of the way.

  “Are you alright?” Katherine asked softly.

  “Shit,” Catalina whispered, wiping a hand over her mouth. “This shit is so fucking wrong. My people-- He was my--” She shook her head, spitting out some bile. “Sorry. I lost my shit for a moment.”

  “It’s alright, love,” Katherine assured her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

They quickly walked out of the stronghold and through the valley, where Parthenais was waiting. They climbed back onto the dragon’s back, and Catalina asked to go back to Aragon. Her expression was furious.

  “How come Parthenais didn’t just go and kill those men?” Katherine asked during the fly back.

  “Par doesn’t kill living things,” Catalina answered. “Unless it’s for food, of course. So that’s why we had to do it.” She clenched her fists. “And I’m glad for that, too. Those bastards should be dying by my hand for what they’ve done.”

The moment Parthenais landed in front of Aragon, Catalina was off the dragon’s back and running through the city. Katherine raced after her, and stumbled into the palace to find Catalina already yelling at her parents.

  “He’s here! Henry is on our land!”

The King and Queen blinked at her. Katherine came up next to Catalina as she continued to shout.

  “Lower your voice, child,” Ferdinand said.

  “What are you talking about?” Isabella asked.

  “Henry! The evil king who’s killing everyone and started a war! He’s here in Braze!” Catalina said. “Kat and I just went to one of his strongholds and took it out. They KILLED one of our people! TORTURED HIM!”

  “Oh, we know,” Isabella said. 

  “That was Ilam, wasn’t it?” Ferdinand looked to his wife for confirmation, and she nodded.

  “Yes. We handed him over a week ago when he kept spying on the stronghold.” Isabella said. “I guess he got what he wanted in the end. Got to go inside their base.”

Catalina was tense at Katherine’s side, and Katherine could practically see the gears turning in her head as she pieced the information together. Her eyes widened.

  “Mother, Father,” The princess whispered, “what are you talking about?”

Isabella looked at Catalina calmly and said, “We work for Henry.”

[slyscenarios]

ophelia 01

heartbroken too many times, your naive mind tends to fall in love too easily. after kim taehyung enters into your life, you’re smitten by the handsome man only for this romance to come to an end… or so it seems.

prologue 01 02 03 member: kim taehyung (ft park jimin) pairing: fuckboy!kth x reader genre: angst, smut, hurt/comfort(?) warnings: eventual smut ig, angsty angst, swearing words: 4k  a/n: ok so originally, i wasn’t going to add in another “love interest” but after thinking about it, i decided to add jimin (just to make things interesting haha). i’ll try my best to release parts every week or so but i can’t really guarantee it. i’ve been really busy and hustling since i do work 2 jobs. i also go to college and because of the COVID-19 outbreak, i’ve been struggling to change a lot of things on my schedule. so once again, i apologize if i can’t get a part out in time or if it’s too short :’(

.

.

.

Flustered from your previous situation, you had decided to head home, yearning for a good nap. You walk to the busy parking lot, entering your very cold car before warming it up. After a couple of minutes, you’re (slightly) speeding until you reach the hidden driveway of your home. Brushing your fingers through your hair, you walk up the steps while pulling out your keys from your bookbag. Of course, though, you happen to drop them, making you groan out of annoyance. “Great, my day couldn’t get any better.” You grumble quietly before bending down to swiftly pick up your keys. Breathing deeply, you unlock the door to the small house. Hoping to finally rest, your attention is brought to the horrid, burnt smell making you rush into your home. Closing the door behind you, you drop your things before rushing into the kitchen. “What’s going on here?!”

"Oh, hey Y/n.” Your older brother, Namjoon, casually greets you with a smile. Furrowing your brows, you notice him occupied at the sink before shrieking at the sight. 

“Joon! What are you doing!?” You walk over to the sink, turning off the cold water to notice the scorched pan. Sharply turning your head to your brother, he laughs before patting your shoulder.

“Look, before you get mad at me I just want to say,” he pauses making you raise a brow, “I’m sorry Y/n.” He blurts before running away, making you scowl at his cowardness. Groaning, you turn back to the mess before sighing. After some time, you’re able to remove most of the burnt marks before throwing the pan in the dishwasher. 

“Joon, you better have a good explanation as to why you almost burnt our house down!” Yelling aloud, you prop open the window in your kitchen, letting the cool air in to refresh your house. Hearing the door open, assuming it was his room door, he sighs in defeat, making his way to the kitchen.

“Okay, I was trying to cook a meal for my girlfriend but obviously, it didn’t turn out well.” He spoke quietly as you were calming yourself down by washing the extra dishes. 

“From now on, please just order food.” Pleading, you rinse the last plate before setting it aside. After drying your hands, you face your brother to see his hopeless face before laughing. 

“What? I was really trying to be the romantic hero my girlfriend needed and cook up a meal for her.” He proclaims making you scrunch your nose.

“Joon, do you even know what a romantic hero is? Literary-wise?” Leaning your back against the sink, you fold your arms awaiting his answer. He bites his inner cheek, thinking quietly before you interrupt him. “Anywho, now that our one and only good pan is ruined, I’ll need to head to the store.” You roll your eyes before lifting yourself off of the sink ledge, making your way to Namjoon with open palms.

“What?” He asks, looking up at you from his seat then back at your hands. 

“Card please,” you smiled, looking at your foolish brother with doe eyes, “since, you know, you did ruin the pan.” Scoffing, he frowns before pulling out his wallet, placing his credit card in your palms as you thank him. 

“Just don’t spend it recklessly like last time- oh and since you’re going to the store, get me some of that cinnamon swirl bread.” He reminds you as you nod, soon heading to your room for a change of clothes.

...

“Now, where is Namjoon’s bread?” Biting your lower lip, you’re stuck in the middle of the bread aisle at your local grocery store. Squinting your eyes, you scan each shelf quickly before giving up. “Sorry Joon, guess I ain’t getting your bread.” You laugh to yourself before jumping at the sudden touch on your shoulder. 

“Excuse me, ma'am, are you looking for something?” A soft voice calls out. Turning around, you’re met with a younger boy, seemingly in high school. Giving him a smile, you release the tension in your muscles before speaking to him.

“Actually, yes! Do you happen to see a cinnamon swirl type of bread here?” Turning back to the shelf, you squint once again, unable to find the bread your brother loved. Hearing the younger male hum, he brushes beside you and easily grabs a loaf, which happened to be on the highest shelf, before handing it to you. 

“Here you go, ma’am.” He takes a few steps back and that’s when you notice how tall the boy actually is. You also notice that he looks quite familiar, but you forget the thought, only to thank him instead. “If that’s all, I’ll get going now.” He shyly smiles as you nod, watching him take a few steps away before stopping in his tracks to pull out his phone. From the start, the boy was clearly trying to end the conversation in order to stay focused during his job but he pauses at one point, dropping his hand from his ear and fully turning his body. “Bro, what are you doing here?”

Curious, you turn your head to the direction the youngin is looking at only for your eyes to widen. It was the same strange man from earlier. He was a couple of feet away, thankfully occupied by the items on the shelf he was looking at, giving you enough time to make your escape. Your ears red, you automatically turn your face towards the other direction, doing your best to walk away with your filled-up shopping basket. Sure that you were out of their sight, you take a deep breath before checking your basket, making sure you have everything you need. “To think I’d meet that weirdo here.” You muttered before taking a spot in line at the self-checkout.

“Talking about me, love?” Startled once again, you glance back to be greeted by a smile. Gulping, you quickly face forward before ignoring the man’s words. “I never introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” Choosing to ignore his words again, you take a couple steps forward as the line begins to shorten. “Can I at least get your name?”

Sighing, you look up from the ground to see an open register, walking straight to it. Setting your basket down, you glance back to the man waiting in line, obviously impatient as he taps his foot on the group. A smile slightly arising from your lips, you focus back on checking out the items in your basket. Swiping Joon’s credit card, you put it away in your purse before cursing at the amount of bags you’re bound to carry. Carefully lifting up the heavy bags, a larger hand brushes against yours, taking them away to hold.

“Look, Taehyung was it?” You frown, finally meeting eyes with him as he nods with a grin on his face. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I would like to be left alone please.”

“Let me get your name first.” He firmly says making you scrunch your nose. Trying to walk past him, he doesn’t budge, making you frustrated.

“Fine. It’s Y/n.” You grumble, glaring at the man. “Happy?” 

“Very.” His smile widens making you furrow your brows in confusion. Shaking your head, you push your way past him and continue to make your way out of the store as he follows from behind. 

Unlocking the trunk to your car, you stop in place before facing the man in an instant, folding your arms. “Do you want something from me? We've never interacted or talked before so why are you acting so friendly with me?”

“What’s wrong with trying to make a friend?” He tilts his head with a slight smirk.

“Okay, but when you talk to someone for the first time, you don't mention how good you are at fucking.” Frustrated, you raise your voice a bit, only to hear him laugh. 

“I was just stating a fact about myself,” he calms down before walking towards you, “no need to get mad, love.” Licking his lips, he lifts his hand to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, soon leaning in to whisper. “Tomorrow, 5pm. Meet me at the fountain located in front of the library.” Pulling away, he opens the trunk to your car and places the bags of groceries he had been holding inside. 

“What if I don’t want to meet you tomorrow?” You blurt aloud, soon biting your bottom lip at his silence. He takes a step closer to you, practically forcing you to notice his features up close. His brows were bold, despite being hidden behind his messy bangs. Looking down to his lips, they were tinted beautifully but you frown after seeing how dry they were. 

“See you tomorrow, Y/n.” He slyly smiles, poking your nose before he walks away. Biting your inner cheek, your eyes follow the man until he suddenly disappears after a large truck passes by, making you sigh and close the trunk to your car. During the car ride home, you can’t help but think of the attractive man. 

“He’s just a pervert.” You thought to yourself, shaking your head to get rid of the thought of him. Making it back home, you bring in the heavy bags of groceries before giving Namjoon his card back, heading straight to your room afterward.

The next day, after all your classes, you’re cautiously walking around campus in hopes of not bumping into Taehyung and his jerk friends. Peeking out from the door of the main building, you sigh before walking out of the building and down the steps. “Y/n!” Hearing a voice call you from behind, you turn around and see your table buddy from math class chase after you. Stopping in your tracks, you walk towards the exhausted girl as she catches her breath. “You’re such a fast walker.” She pants, making you apologize. 

“Did you want something from me though?” You ask as she shakes her head.

“You forgot this in class,” she says before handing you your calculator, “I know how expensive these things are, so just make sure you don’t leave it sitting around next time!” Mentally facepalming yourself, you stow your calculator away in your bookbag before turning to face your table buddy as your lips curl into a soft smile. 

“Thank you so much, Cora! I really appreciate it.” After thanking her, you ask what her daily plans are, wondering if she would be down to have a study session for your next math exam some time. Grinning, she agrees with the idea before you’re both exchanging phone numbers.

“Say, Y/n, do you happen to live on campus?” She asks, making you quirk a brow. 

“I commute actually,” you sigh before looking back at Cora, “why?”

“Oh nothing, I was just wondering if you were going to the socializing event happening later this evening.” You could tell she was slightly disappointed, a pout forming on her lips. Scrunching your nose, you take her hand in yours.

“Well, if you're going to be there, then I guess I could stop by later.” You assure, making her squeal in excitement.

“Thank you Y/n, you won't regret coming by!” She’s now grinning from ear to ear, practically jumping in place. “I’ll even introduce you to a couple of my friends later tonight.” Only able to smile at her excitement, she pulls her phone out to look at the time before fleeing, yelling out that she would text you the details later before walking away. Second-guessing yourself, your smile fades as you’re overthinking the situation. 

“Why did you say that, Y/n? You don’t even like socializing in general.” You mumble to yourself before walking away as people begin to side-eye you. Making it to your car, you let out a sigh of relief, relaxing your muscles as you’re ready to just relax. Laid back, you can’t help but feel as though you’re missing something. Frustrated that you can’t remember, you shrug off the thought and head straight home to get ready for this “social event”.

...

It’s now 8pm as you are woken up by the loud commotion coming from outside your room. Groaning, you yelp at the pain in your back, cursing to yourself. Heading outside into the hallway, you make your way to the bathroom in hopes of peeing, only to find Namjoon fumbling around in a rush. “Where are you going?” Leaning against the door frame, your tired eyes are fixated on your brother styling his hair.

“I’m going to a-”

“Let me guess, social event?” Cutting him off, he nods in response before washing his hands. 

“Yea, I actually have to go and help out. You going?” Turning to face you, you shrug in response to his question. “Well, I’m heading out now. If you actually plan on coming, lock the house up and text me when you get there.” Watching him leave the house, you sigh before heading back to the bathroom to finish your business. You also spend the next hour perfecting your makeup before getting a text from Cora, explaining that the house the event was held at was already packed with people. She also sends you the address right as you’re changing into an off the shoulder top and ripped jeans, slipping on your shoes before heading out to start your car.

Arriving at said location, you’re shocked at how big it is before you park on the street, hearing the loud trap music from outside the mansion. Shivering at the cold night, you rush into the house before pulling out your phone to text Joon and Cora. 

“How can I help you, doll?” Greeted by a charming man, you purse your lips, not knowing what to say.

“I, uh-”

“Jimin, I’ve got this.” Turning to the side, you relax as Namjoon walks up to you. “So, you finally decided to turn up?” He raises a brow, making you laugh before nudging him in the side.

“Are you not going to introduce me to the beautiful lady presented in front of me, Namjoon?” The charming man catches your attention as your cheeks slightly tint pink. As Namjoon scorns at his words, you roll your eyes before holding out your hand.

“I apologize for my brother.” You retort, glaring slightly at Namjoon before focusing your attention back to the charming man. “I’m Y/n.”

“Jimin.” He simply says before taking a hold of your hand, shaking it lightly. After pulling his hand away, he tilts his head before raising a brow. “Namjoon never told me he had a pretty sister.” 

“I don’t know, Y/n’s not that pretty.” Namjoon jokes, making you click your tongue in annoyance. “She’s actually a nerdy bookworm, believe it or not.” Laughing, Jimin walks to your side before placing his hand softly on the lower part of your back.

“I think you’re quite beautiful, Y/n.” He smiles assuringly, making your ears burn up. “How about I give you a tour? This is the Alpha Sigma Phi after all, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before.” Licking your lips, he closes in to whisper in your ear. “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.” His words tingled against your skin, sending chills down your spine. Despite the loud music and chatter distracting you, Jimin’s words were quite clear. Gulping, you avoid his eyes, turning your face to see a familiar face from a distance.

“Y/n! You made it.” Cora exclaimed, making her way over to you. She casually waves to Namjoon and Jimin, making you raise a brow in confusion. “Sorry boys but I’m taking this gal with me.” She grins before taking a hold of your wrist, pulling you away from Jimin to stand beside her.

“Yes, take my sister and teach her a couple of social skills please.” Namjoon pleads, making you frown as Cora turns to face you.

“Joonie is your brother?!” Scrunching your nose at the scent of alcohol coming from your friend, you nod in response.

“Looks like Joon doesn’t talk about me much.” You squint to your brother as he winks to you. Rolling your eyes, you notice a few other men come up to both Namjoon and Jimin, talking with them before they break out into laughter. They were then asked, from what you heard, to head to the kitchen for shots. Saying their goodbyes, your eyes meet with Jimin’s.

“I guess I’ll have to give you a tour another time.”  He smiled warmly before turning away to walk into the crowd of people. 

“Dreamy, isn’t he?” Cora remarks as you nod subconsciously. “Sorry to burst your bubble Y/n, but he already has a girlfriend.” Sighing, you look over to your friend.

“I’m not surprised to hear that, though.” You chuckle before changing the topic, “I thought you said this was a socializing event? This is your basic Friday night party.” 

“To be honest, Y/n, you didn’t seem like the type to go out to parties, so I slightly changed the term.” She nervously laughs, taking a hold of your hand and apologizing soon after.

“Well, I never said I hated parties, did I?” Pressing your lips into a firm smile, you look around before focusing back onto Cora. “Let’s take a look at how big this place actually is.” Convinced, Cora practically drags you along through the crowd of people, soon meeting up with her own group of friends and introducing you.

As they’re gleefully conversing with one another, you can’t help but awkwardly stand aside, watching them laugh. SIghing, you glance to the right only to make out a set of enticing eyes watching over you. Taehyung. You had forgotten his request from the other day. Despite him being quite far from you, he’s noticeable and soon, walking over to you. In a panic, you turn to Cora, trying to gain her attention.

“Hey, I’m going to find a bathroom,” you point in a different direction as Cora nods, “I’ll be back quick.” Walking away from Cora’s group of friends, you glance back to see Taehyung out of sight. Biting your inner cheek, you continue onwards, doing your best to push through the crowd of people.

Because of how huge the house was, you’re lost, finding yourself down a large corridor. Pursing your lips, you take your chances, knocking upon a random door. Pressing your ear against it, you’re met with silence, turning the knob slowly before peeking inside. “Anyone in here?” You ask, gulping as you fully open the door. The room was filled with darkness and to your surprise, untouched. Stepping into the room, you close the door behind you. Sighing of relief, you make your way deeper into the large room before eyeing the framed pictures hanging upon the wall. 

After observing the pictures, you recognize the faces in them, figuring out that you were currently in Jimin’s room. “Makes sense that the charming man suits the charming room.” You smirk. The room was completely quiet, despite the loud music playing from outside, and yet, you were at peace. Taking a deep breath, you sit on the bed to relax your aching feet before hearing the doorknob turn.

“Oh, Y/n? What are you doing in my room?” Jimin asks, his words sounding slurred. He stumbles, making you stand from his bed as he walks towards you.

“I- I just wanted to take a break.” You nervously laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as Jimin is now standing in front of you. Chuckling, he’s looking you in the eye, making you awkwardly look away. The smile on his face fades before his hand reaches to the side of your face, gently caressing it. Flustered at his touch, he drops his hand before plopping onto the bed and laying on his back. Raising a brow in confusion, you face back to the man, taking notice of how serene he looks while asleep. Gulping, you slowly walk away in hopes of not waking up the fellow before feeling a tug at your wrist.

“Don’t go.” Meeting his weary eyes, he licks his lips before pulling you onto the bed. You’re now found lying down beside the buzzed man, stiff as a stick. It feels like an hour before you hear a slight snore coming from the man, indicating that he’s fast asleep. Doing your best, you prop your self up with your hand before it slips, your face now closer to his. 

“Jimin, are you in there? You hear Namjoon’s voice calling from the other side of the door. Cursing to yourself, you steadily get off the bed before tiptoeing to another door, opening it up to a bathroom. Hearing the doorknob turn, you swiftly step into the bathroom before quickly closing the door. Keeping your back against the door, you hear Namjoon starting to complain to the sleeping fellow.

“My dude, you gotta at least send some people out of here before knocking out.” Your brother remarks before you hear Jimin groan. From what you can hear, they’re practically arguing with one another before you hear shuffling. Raising a brow, you hear footsteps gradually coming closer to your location, making you panic and hide behind the plain shower curtains. 

“Let me wash up first.” Jimin yells while swinging the door open. Holding your breath at the lights turning on, you notice his silhouette on the shower. Pursing your lips after noting his slim figure, he sighs before turning on the faucet. Shifting your weight, you bump into a bottle of shampoo, failing to catch it fast enough as it falls onto the ground of the shower, echoing throughout the bathroom. Still as a rock, you bite your inner cheek as the faucet is turned off.

“Jimin, you alright in there?” Namjoon calls out.

“I’m fine,” Jimin yells back, startling you, “I’m going to piss so go ahead.” Hearing the door close, the silence in the bathroom makes you anxious before you’re screaming at the shower curtain being suddenly pulled aside. Meeting his wide eyes, he comes towards you before placing his hand over your mouth.

“Be quiet, Y/n. Do you want your brother to come in here?” Jimin hushes you as you obey, his hand falling from your face. “What are you doing in my shower, of all places?” 

Pursing your lips, you avoid his eyes. “I was just-” Pausing, you glance back at him before licking the corner of your lips. “I panicked and decided to hide in here, okay?” 

Breaking out into laughter, he brushes his fingers through his hair before taking your hand, guiding you out of the bathroom and into his room. “Do you enjoy parties, Y/n?” He randomly asks you, making you scrunch your nose.

“Want me to be honest?” You ask as he nods, a gentle smile appearing on his face. “I’m not fond of parties like this, despite me going to them anyway.” You truthfully say. You’re both standing in front of the room door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he takes a step closer to you.

“That’s a bummer,” leaning forward, he then whispers in your ear, “I’d love to see you around more, Y/n.” You tense up as your name smoothly rolls off his tongue, his hand unclasping from yours. Opening the door, he walks you out, explaining some of the areas of his fraternity before you’re both found at the main entrance of the house. 

“Well, I guess this is it for the night-”

“Jimin, there you are!” A feminine voice calls out, cutting him off. Watching, a woman walks up to Jimin, sliding her hand to hold his as she presses her body close to his. “Where were you?”

“Oh, I was just showing Y/n around,” he smiles before glancing at you, then back to the woman, “this is Y/n, by the way.” Pointing at you, you put on a smile, greeting the woman. 

“I’m Aika, Jimin’s girlfriend.” She cheekily grins before turning her attention back to Jimin. Of course, his girlfriend is beautiful. “Baby, let’s go to your room and have a drink.” She winks before tugging on his arm. Looking away, partially cringing at their flirtatious aura, you clear your throat, stopping their bickering.

“Well, I’ll be leaving now. It was nice meeting both of you.” Your hand firmly gripping the handle, you give them a half-smile before exiting the house. Walking through the chilling air, you make it to your car before taking a deep breath. What a night.

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

voiceless jaskier au (pt 7)

Chapter 4 is, with this, complete and shortly will be on AO3! And also possibly my longest chapter. YAY! 

In which I actually let Jaskier have a Not Shitty Day (and Geralt has a much more shitty day)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

---------------------

Geralt was, perhaps unsurprisingly, not back yet when Jaskier woke up, surrounded by the papers that held everything he'd purged the night before. He sat and stared blankly at the detritus of his hurt and anger, feeling hollowed out and weary.

Hollowed out and weary, but not like he was going to get lost in the mist again, which brought on a feeling of something like relief. He got out of bed and pulled fresh(ish) clothes on, being careful not to disturb any of the papers as he did. That was the thing, he was angry still, and he thought he had every right to be. Geralt didn't get to be overwhelmingly attentive one moment and then just refuse to listen to him the next, especially before running off to maybe get himself killed without thinking about how Jaskier would survive.

No, Jaskier thought with an admittedly bitter-tasting sort of pride, the papers would stay. He couldn't yell at Geralt, but as emotionally raw as he felt glancing over the things he'd written, maybe it would get through to Geralt and he'd look next time. And the time after that. And every time Jaskier was trying so hard to reach out of the silent pit he'd fallen into to connect to another goddamn person.

That decided, clothed and with a clean face from scrubbing in the washbasin, Jaskier considered his options. He could swear up and down to the innkeeper that the witcher would be back to pay for any meals he might have while staying alone, but the fact was that most people would be dubious of a witcher's guarantee to come back. Especially given how quickly he left, for the next town over. Jaskier could, instead, set up in the main room or the town square with his lute and play, and hope for some generosity from the townsfolk. The problem was that without his voice, he was limited to only the sound of his lute itself. Which, admittedly, was fantastic, but wasn't likely to earn him much of anything. Instrumental music was for banquets and noble halls, before the night moved on to more energetic entertainment. People in a little place like this looked to a bard for entertainment with jigs, melodramatic ballads, tales of adventure, and songs about maidens fucking farmboys. Jaskier could play a mean jig, but for the rest... well.

And anyway, doing that would mean actually playing, and thinking about it still made something twist up in his stomach.

No, not today, he thought, and snagged his tablet before heading to the door. Today, he would hope that the innkeeper or one of his neighbors would take pity on him and give him some sort of small job to do in exchange for food or a little bit of money. It wasn't something Jaskier was looking forward to, silently begging for the chance to do menial labor, but it wasn't like he had many options.

**

The innkeeper did have a few unskilled tasks that he usually had his daughter do alone, but he seemed to be perfectly happy to let Jaskier help with them in exchange for food, even giving him breakfast before setting him to work.

"That witcher of yours left you here without coin for food?" he'd asked, eyes narrowed, when Jaskier approached him. Jaskier shrugged, spreading his hands dramatically, trying to play it off as sort of a 'witchers, am I right?' situation. The innkeeper shook his head, grumbling. "Damn thoughtless creature," he'd said, and ushered Jaskier into a seat near the kitchen. Jaskier wanted to protest, to speak up in Geralt's defense, mention how careful Geralt had been up to this point, but once he was seated and eating porridge and sausage, he had to admit he didn't disagree.

Geralt had been damn thoughtless, and Jaskier was still fucking angry.

The chores were hardly complicated, even for him. Washing breakfast dishes, helping boil water for laundry (which he was allowed to drop his own dirty clothes into, and pointedly did not bring Geralt's down for), helping hang the laundry to dry. Not exactly easy, nor the sorts of chores he'd ever had to do growing up, but it was something to pass the time, and made him at least feel useful for the first time since the djinn. The innkeeper's daughter was seventeen, sharp as a whip, and named Hanna. She kept up a steady, if not constant, commentary throughout the day, giving her thoughts on what she wanted from life, how well (or poorly) Jaskier was doing at following her directions, and various gossip and theories about passing townsfolk that they could see from the back yard of the inn. She got him to laugh more than once with her sharp commentary, and he felt if they could've had a proper conversation he would've enjoyed her even more. She even shared her lunch with him, half a small loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and an apple that she imperiously demanded he slice for them, which made him laugh yet again.

(She'd started singing at one point, in the absent way people did when they were doing a familiar task, and he'd faltered in his movements hanging the laundry on the line, his hands frozen in the process of pinning someone's chemise up. He'd forgotten until that moment, despite not being able to answer her as she chatted, that he couldn't sing anymore. It hit him like a punch to the chest and for a long moment he felt like he couldn't breathe. Hanna hadn't said anything, but she must have noticed, and she resumed talking about the exploits of her friend Maja instead of her song, and didn't sing again. Jaskier felt guilty and grateful in equal measure for that.)

It was a good day, probably the first good day he'd had in... how long had it been, two weeks? Longer? The first good day since even before the lake, though he'd hoped briefly when he found Geralt that his day was getting better. More the fool him. But this day of feeling useful and not pitied was what he needed and Jaskier was very relaxed (if already sore and sweaty) by the time the late afternoon sun was warming him as he weeded the kitchen garden alone, Hanna having gone in to help start supper.

Or he was relaxed until the door to the kitchen was thrown open with a loud bang, and he briefly was grateful for his enforced silence because he can tell he would've just screeched embarrassingly otherwise. Geralt of fucking Rivia was the culprit, looking tensed for a fight. Jaskier barely had time to wonder what could possibly have gone so wrong while he was outside that Geralt was looking like that when Geralt's eyes locked on him, kneeling in the dirt with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a weed in his hand, and the tension seemed to bleed out of him. Not that anyone but Jaskier or maybe another witcher would've noticed, as little changed, but the feeling that Geralt was readying himself for a dust up dissipated.

Jaskier obviously couldn't say anything, but that was very far from anything he expected to happen, and he raised an eyebrow, not otherwise moving.

"Excuse me," Hanna's voice came from behind Geralt in the kitchen. "If you don't mind, sir witcher, we're busy in here. Go out or come in, but don't just stand there all in the way!"

Geralt half-turned with a startled frown, and Jaskier couldn't imagine the scathing look the girl must've been giving him that prompted him to simply grunt out a quiet "Sorry," before stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

Jaskier almost laughed at the disconcerted expression on Geralt's face in the wake of whatever look Hanna had subjected him to, before remembering why he was out here in the first place. Instead, he pressed his lips in a line, his good mood already fled in favor of lingering anger and resentment, and pointedly looked down and resumed weeding. Geralt walked closer and it occurred to Jaskier that he'd left his tablet upstairs after going to fetch his laundry, because he didn't want to risk it getting lost or stepped on, and Hanna hadn't needed it to get on just fine with him. Whatever conversation he had with Geralt right now was, by nature, going to be extremely one-sided, as Jaskier both couldn't talk to him and wasn't speaking to him.

Geralt stopped at the edge of the garden plot, a few feet away from where Jaskier was kneeling, and just... stood there. Jaskier'd intended to just let him stew until he felt like speaking up, but eventually the silent looming got to Jaskier, and he left off the weeding to sit back on his heels and spread his arms. What?

"You weren't there," Geralt rumbled, an inscrutable and alien (to Jaskier, anyway, which was actually pretty strange) expression on his face. Jaskier frowned slightly, then pushed himself to his feet and brushed his hands off on his trousers, eyes never leaving Geralt's face, and the expression he didn't recognize.

"You weren't there," Geralt repeats after a few beats of silence, clearly struggling to get words out. "There was all the paper talking about how angry you were, and your lute was there, and the wax tablets were there, and it didn't smell like you'd been there for hours."

Oh. Jaskier's shield around his heart cracks a little bit. The big idiot had been scared. Of something having happened to him, maybe, or of him having left, or something Jaskier can't think of, but the point was that Geralt was scared and had flipped out because of it, stormed the kitchen and threw open the backdoor to make sure Jaskier was there. There was "mad at him" and there was "being an ass to him", so Jaskier softened and reached out a hand to put on one of the arms Geralt had crossed protectively in front of his chest. A soft little exhalation escaped Geralt's lips, and Jaskier thought honestly if he was the sort of person who cried, Geralt might be crying from relief now. Jaskier had wanted Geralt to know and understand how angry he'd been last night, but he'd never really meant to scare or hurt him, so it was his turn to apologize. Not for being mad, he refused to apologize for that sort of thing, but for scaring him.

Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt's, dirt and sweat and all, and tugged him back towards the door. Geralt let himself be led, not taking his eyes off Jaskier as they moved. Jaskier waved and smiled apologetically to Hanna and her mother as they cut quickly through the kitchen, and saw the disdainfully disappointed look the innkeeper shot Geralt as they passed, and then it was upstairs and into their room. The pages that had been scattered on every surface were more or less in a pile on the bed, like Geralt had grabbed each one of them, read it, then grabbed the next and the next, before dropping them and racing out to find him. Which... was probably what had happened.

The giant idiot.

Jaskier unlinked their arms to move the papers, dropping them to the side of the bed carelessly, because frankly they didn't matter now that they'd been read, herded Geralt to the bed and pushed him to sit down, and then retrieved his tablet from the side table, rubbing his hands on his trousers again to keep any dirt from getting ground into the wax.

You're an idiot, was the first thing Jaskier wrote, turned around to show Geralt with fond exasperation. Geralt opened his mouth to respond and Jaskier held a finger up to stop him, adding more under it. And an ass. Geralt huffed, frustrated, and scowled slightly.

"Jaskier."

Oh, fine, he'd go faster and stop just listing things that Geralt, patently and provably, was. I'm angry, not stupid. What did you think happened?

"I don't know," Geralt grumbled with a faint grimace, not looking up at Jaskier's face. "The papers were ripped out of your journal. The messages seemed... desperate."

Jaskier sighed and sat on the bed next to Geralt, tucking one leg up under him, and smoothed the wax before starting in on a longish message.

You didn't look when I had a message to show you. This is my voice right now. I can't shout. Maybe throw it at your head but it might break. And you didn't think about how I would pay for anything, which was what I was trying to ask you. But you didn't look. You can't not look, Geralt. His handwriting wasn't great, admittedly, especially writing smaller, but it was readable when he held it out to Geralt.

"Hm," Geralt handed the tablet back, and Jaskier started smoothing the wax again. "I'm... sorry. It was thoughtless. You could've gotten hurt." He sounded sincere to Jaskier's ears, if a bit reluctant. Jaskier knew Geralt struggled to talk about his own feelings, let alone his fears. Jaskier had never known Geralt to talk about his fears, and while he hadn't said so explicitly, the fear that Jaskier could've gotten hurt, and it would've been Geralt's fault, seemed like an obvious jump from what he'd said. And really, it made sense. Geralt considered what happened to Jaskier's voice his fault. It would be him failing Jaskier again if anything but a truly spectacular meltdown and some laundry had happened while Geralt had been gone.

Jaskier bumped his shoulder up against Geralt's as he wrote, Geralt leaning in a little to watch the letters forming, and Jaskier's breath almost hitched from the smell of him so close in his space (even the sweat and horse that permeated him). Forgiven if you never do it again. Promise?

"I promise," Geralt responded even before Jaskier finished writing, solemn as anything. "I'll always look. If it needs to wait, I'll say. But I promise I'll look."

Jaskier patted Geralt's knee in acceptance and smiled. Good. Dinner. He stood, then stopped on his way to the door to quickly add, I earned dinner tonight. You can pay for baths. He showed Geralt and gave him a smug, cheeky grin, and Geralt's eyes flicked from the tablet to his face and met his eyes without response for just a moment too long to be entirely comfortable. Then the moment passed, and Geralt pushed himself to his feet.

"All right," he agreed. "You look like you've been rolling in the mud all day, you could use one." He chuckled at Jaskier's indignant expression and got a smack upside the head with the tablet as they made their way back downstairs.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3