#probably forgot to bring her some strange ingredient he promised

[claudeng80]

jinshi/mao mao, frog :3

It’s not often that Maomao cooks. Jinshi smells it from the door and immediately knows she’s forgiven him. “What smells so good?”

She has the tiniest grill he’s ever seen, just enough for little tidbits of sizzling meat. “Would you like some?”

She holds out a piece to feed him, and he should know not to trust her compliance, after so long, but it melts all his good sense when she’s like this. 

“Delicious, what is it?”

“Frog,” she says, as cold as a mountain waterfall, and drops the bowl at his feet.

No, she hasn’t forgiven him at all.

[official-weasley]

Godparents - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: absolutely nothing

Word count: 3,076

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Charlie

“Okay, Dee-Dee, remember, we have to triple the ingredients today because a lot of people are coming.” My brother warned my firstborn.

“I know, uncle Georgie.” Aoede glared at him.

“Okay, can I trust you with the measurements while I talk to your dad?”

“Of course. I know how to make cookies.” Aoede turned to look for the flour the second George walked to me.

“Do you remember when I was uncle Geogie?” George sighs. “She is growing up so fast!”

“And so is her attitude.” I chuckled. “What, that?” George shrugged his shoulders, looking at his niece. “She just takes making cookies very seriously.”

“I know and I know you miss her calling you Geogie, but she is five and a half now and a lot of names suddenly changed when she learned how to say R.” I laughed, reminiscing when Tiger's name went from Tigel to Tigerrrr.

“Yeah, I mean Luna Dora said her first word a few days ago so perhaps I have a chance to be Geogie again.” George's eyes shone.

“Don't remind me.” I groaned. “And since she is giving everyone nicknames already you will probably get one soon enough.”

“Are you still grumpy about her first words?” George laughed out loud.

“No!”

“Yes, you are, Charlie! I can't believe it.” George couldn't stop laughing.

Luna Dora said her first word last week and as much as I was proud of it that much I couldn't help that her first word would be something else.

I was luckier with her than with Aoede and I didn't miss any firsts with her. I was changing her diaper when she smiled for the first time and I was there when Nova put her down on the sofa and she sat by herself. Nova was the one who missed the first crawl this time and we both got to see Luna Dora rollover. She is already walking if someone is holding both of her hands and I am planning to be there for the moment of her walking for the first time too. That was the only first I got to experience with Aoede and I promised myself that I am not missing anything else.

I still remember when Aoede said her first word. We were having breakfast and Nova was feeding her some apple sauce and for some reason every time we started talking, Aoede started to laugh and we couldn't help but join her and because Nova forgot for a split second to feed her, Aoede kindly reminded her that she is still hungry and said ma-ma.

As much as I was overwhelmed by her saying her first word, I was a bit down that she didn't call me first. Of course, I was expecting it – Nova being at home with her while I was working – it was only reasonable and the first word usually ends up being mama so I didn't stay down for long.

Nova said that since we are planning to have 2 more kids I have 2 more chances to be called first so that cheered me up a bit.

Aoede was about a year and 3 months old when she started saying her first words so it came as a surprise to the both of us when Luna Dora started showing signs of speaking with mumbling a few weeks ago – meaning before her first birthday which is today – so since I was around more I got my hopes up.

I had to fight the urge to tell Luna Dora to say the word dad or dada since Nova and I said even before we had Aoede that we will never press or push them to do anything, so we waited patiently for what she will say to us.

Luna Dora first surprised us when she was born and she came out with blue hair. The next thing was how fast her magic started to show by the baby powder and Aoede's toys flying around when we were changing her. Somehow, though, we haven't learned that she is full of surprises so when we were watching the telly and she started to make bubbles nobody expected her to say her first word let alone for it to be her sister's name.

First, she mumbled something, so we turned the volume down to encourage her to speak by talking to her. Nova was bouncing her on her legs, making Luna Dora laugh while she was watching her sister play with glitter and her unicorn plushie. I invited Aoede to join our little laughing party and as I called her name, Luna Dora started laughing uncontrollably and because Nova found it funny, she kept repeating the name of our firstborn.

Aoede was almost as confused as I was about what was going on but since Luna Dora's giggles filled the whole lower floor of the house, we started laughing as well. Aoede started repeating her name and in the midst of us having the best time as a family, Luna Dora spoke for the first time, calling her sister Dee-Dee.

The second the name came out of her mouth we all stopped and looked at the blue-haired girl who kept repeating the name and extended her arms to Aoede to hold her.

The second Nova noticed she had her mouth open and closed it, she glanced at me to see my reaction. I was as shocked as much as she was since we didn't think Luna Dora would actually say anything.

Without asking me how I feel about her first words, Nova said that perhaps she meant to say dada or that that is her version of it but Aoede was quick to point out that Luna Dora was saying the word while trying to get Aoede to hold her.

Aoede needed a minute to compose herself and realize what just happened, before clearing her throat and picking her little sister up, and taking her to her toys. The more Aoede talked to her, the more Luna Dora started to repeat her name and the whole situation was so cute that I completely forgot about my wish to be Luna Dora's first word.

That night, when the giggles stopped and we put our daughters to sleep, we knew that Aoede officially got herself a nickname. Nova was so excited about it that she sent letters to the entire family the next morning, and now, even though not even a week later, nobody is using Aoede's full name and she is doing nothing but being very proud about it.

“I am not grumpy about it.” I scoffed.

“Whatever, it's sweet that Luna Dora said Aoede's name first, admit it,” George said with a smug face.

“It's adorable but the wish is still there. You'll see when you'll be a dad.” I tried defending myself.

“I don't know if that is happening for me, Charlie.” George sighed.

“Oh, don't be so pessimistic. You still have time.” I tapped his back. “What happened between you and Angelina, didn't you say that your date went well?”

“It did. But she went to the Yule Ball with Fred and they went on a few dates so it's a bit weird that I'm dating her now.” George avoided looking me in the eyes.

“Yeah, but they weren't that serious, were they?”

“Not really but it's still strange.” George looked at me with pleading eyes as if waiting for my advice.

“Listen, you came to the wrong older brother for relationship advice.” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“But you're married and have 2 kids. That's pretty successful if you ask me.” George wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah, well, I married my best friend. I was lucky. Besides the drama with McNully, I don't even know what heartbreak feels like.”

“You're right. You are kind of useless in that department.” George chuckled.

“In what department?” We both turned around when we heard Bill behind us.

“Uncle George!” Aoede called from the kitchen.

“Well, duty calls. Hi, Bill.” George waved at his eldest brother and walked to the kitchen.

“What department?” Bill asked again as he sat down next to me at the kitchen table.

“I think you need to talk to George about girls.” I sniggered.

“At this age?” Bill raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“He thinks he shouldn't date Angelina because of Fred.”

“Oh, that. What do you think about it?” Bill was curious.

“He clearly likes her a lot so why not. Fred and Angie weren't that serious anyway.” I shrugged.

“True.” Bill narrowed his eyes thinking. “I'll talk to him later.”

“Thanks and welcome to the birthday party by the way.” I chuckled, pointing to the living room where Nova was sitting on the floor with Luna Dora in her lap, conversing with Fleur who was holding Victoire.

“Thank you! Nova said to put Luna Dora's gift into the guest room.” Bill grinned.

“You didn't have to get her anything. She's one.”

“Hey, we bring toys to Aoede all the time, we are not planning to only pamper her.” Bill winked.

“You didn't buy her glitter did you?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “The bottle you got Aoede for her 5th birthday is still sprinkled everywhere around the house.”

“Are you expecting me to apologize? “ Bill tried hard not to laugh.

“I woke up the other day with Nova laughing at my face and she didn't want to tell me what was going on so it wasn't until I looked at myself in the mirror when I was washing my teeth that I saw that I had a few glitter pieces in the middle of my forehead. I have no idea how it got there – it's just everywhere!” I slammed my hand against my forehead.

“Yeah, glitter does do that.” Bill let out a silent laugh knowing full well I would glare at him if he dared to laugh more.

“Just wait until Victoire turns 5 and I'll get my revenge!”

“Don't you even dare!”

“Oh, you'll see,” I smirked. “And if you didn't get Luna Dora glitter I thank you for whatever you got for her.” I put my arm around his shoulder.

“You're welcome.” Bill smiled and turned to where George and Aoede were making cookies.

“Are they making a cookie cake?” Bill giggled.

“Nah, Olivia made the cake, and mum brought all sorts of things so they are just sticking to good old cookies.”

“Are any of the lot coming?” Bill asked.

“Penny and Tulip?”

“Yeah?”

“We thought about inviting them at first, but it's Luna's first birthday and she won't even remember it and they were here for Aoede's birthday party.”

“Yeah, true.” Bill scratched his nose. “Listen, speaking of kids. Fleur and I want to talk to you and Nova about something.”

“Did you grow tired of Victoire already and want to give her to us?” I joked.

“No! She is the best thing that ever happened to us,” Bill said with scarlet cheeks.

“I was teasing you, Bill. I know you are just as manly about being a dad as I was when Aoede was born.”

“Right.” He chuckled nervously.

“So you were saying?” I encouraged him to speak further.

“We want to talk...”

“Daddy! Come and look at my cookies!” Aoede shouted from the kitchen, interrupting Bill.

“Char, could you get Luna Dora ready for her birthday party and I'll go with Aoede to change her clothes?” Nova asked from the living room.

“Dad duty calls.” I grinned at my brother. “Can we talk about this after the party?”

“Sure. Yeah, even better.” Bill nodded and we both got up.

I hurried to the kitchen for Aoede to show me her cookies before George put them in the oven and then brought her to Nova who gave me Luna Dora so we could get our girls ready for the celebration.

—

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Luna, happy birthday to you.”

Mum, dad, Olivia, and George were sitting on the sofa, Bill and Fleur were on the floor with Victoire, I was holding Aoede who was eating a cookie and Nova held Luna Dora while we were singing to her.

We all knew that she had no idea what was going on but she was giggling constantly and that makes the birthday party good enough of a success for us.

Aoede and I helped blew the candles and Nova helped her mum cut the cake. Despite being very excited to blow the candles for the second time this year, Aoede declined the cake and asked George to accompany her to the kitchen to get a cookie.

Both Luna Dora and Victoire fell asleep soon after. Aoede wanted to show George her glitter collection because for some reason he was the only one of her uncles who didn't see it yet and my mum and dad decided to take a walk.

“Now that we're alone, do you think we could have that talk?” Bill whispered to me, as we were both observing Aoede making glitter fly everywhere. “Sure.” I nodded and turned to him and Fleur.

Nova sat down next to me just in time to join the conversation and Bill cleared his throat as I wrapped my arms around my wife.

“Why are you zo nervous, William?” Fleur chuckled when Bill scratched his nose for the third time.

“I am not!” Bill lifted his chin in defense.

“Should I ask zem?” Fleur raised her eyebrows.

“What is this about?” Nova whispered to me.

“I have no idea. I just know they want to ask us something.”

“Nova, Charlie, we want you to be Victoire's godparents,” Fleur said casually.

“That's what you were nervous for?” I raised my eyebrows at Bill.

“Well, I didn't know how you'd react given that you asked us first and we're Aoede godparents,” Bill mumbled.

“What do you mean how we would react? We would love to!” Nova exclaimed.

“So you don't mind zat we are godparents to each other's children? I mean, you're godparents to Teddy, and Penny and Andre's son Max. We don't want to ask too much of you.” Fleur pressed her lips together.

“I don't mind at all. Soon, I'll have my own little army.” Nova giggled.

“At this point, it does seem as if we're trying to have our own little kindergarten.” I joked.

“Army, Char. Army. We strike at dawn.” Nova laughed mischievously.

“So, is that a yes?”Bill asked as he stopped laughing at how silly Nova was. “Of course, it is!” Nova and I said together.

“We would be honored and truth be told, we kind of expected it.” I sniggered. “You did?” Fleur asked.

“Yeah, we see each other often and Victoire adores us,” I explained.

“We knew it was going to be you before she was even born,” Bill admitted.

“As I said. We will take the role gladly.” I smiled at both of them and pulled them both into a hug.

“That reminds me. Did you pick Luna Dora's godparents?” Bill asked. “We did, we just didn't ask yet,” Nova answered.

“Right. We forgot about that!” I gasped.

“Hey, George!” I called his name.

“Busy right now, Charlie.” George who was sitting as still as possible because Aoede was drawing on his arm slightly turned his head to us.

“It's okay. No need to move. We were just wondering if you'd be Luna Dora's godfather?” Nova asked gently.

“What?” I had to hand it to George for not moving even the slightest at the question.

We have been debating who to choose for Luna's guardians for months. We ended up deciding between Ron and George because it seemed that Luna Dora liked them the most when we went to visit or when they were here.

In the end, Nova came to the final decision saying that George adores Aoede so much and she loves spending time with him and there is no doubt in her mind that Luna wouldn't feel the same way and I had to agree with her that even though Ron would have loved the title, with everything that George went through and how much he loves to come and visit us, it would mean more to him.

See him shake from excitement but not move at the same time not to disturb our firstborn at her work, only proved to us more that we made the right decision and we're planning to have another child anyway, perhaps Ron will get his turn.

“I-I don't know what to say.” George tried looking at us despite facing in the other direction.

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” Nova said gently.

“Oh, no! I would love to. In my head, I am already calling myself godfather.” George sniggered. “It's just...I didn't expect this at all. Why choose me?”

“I thought that was obvious. The girls love you and you love spending time with them both.” I explained our decision.

“I do. They are the best!” He moved slightly as he tried to smile at us, receiving a glare from Aoede.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Did I ruin anything?” George apologized.

“No, I know how to fix it. Dad moves all the time.” Aoede sighed and frowned in concentration as she got back to work.

—

“Thank you for this.” George pulled me in the tightest embrace I have ever gotten from him as he was saying goodbye the next day.

“George, we told you that you're a perfect fit. You're great with kids.” I hugged him back.

“No, Charlie, I am serious. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He swallowed thickly as he finished speaking and as I pulled away I saw his eyes were filled with tears.

“I know, George. That's one of the reasons we chose you.” I whispered to him and pulled him in for another hug and smiled.

After a year and a half after the battle, George was doing much better and I knew he was going to be excited about being a godparent but seeing it mean so much to him simply warmed my heart, and any time that I could make one of my brothers excited and smile as George did right now, I felt as if I accomplished something great and there was nothing better besides having my own family than to make the ones back at home happy too.

[shy-badger]

A Strange Moment in Time  Ch5

Ok so I'm human and suck at descriptions, so I didn't include any mention of Runaan's arms. I will touch more on it when he is in another chapter, but Runaan has only one arm. The assassin band removed his left arm as promised. now, enjoy the rest I guess.

Viren’s head throbbed as though the weight of the world sat on his temples. Reaching up to hold his head only brought an uncomfortably loud racket causing him to wince. Finally he opened his eyes to investigate the source of this metallic clanging coming from his wrists. Chains. Viren was chained to the floor.

The dungeon? Why am I here? Viren thought, already recounting the events that led up to this.

The elves were attacking, one of them ran off, I had the other one on the ropes, then I was trapped in ice by…  the mage. He was a human mage! Why would a human help those bloodthirsty elves? And how did that land me here?

Viren scanned his surroundings. He was in the castle’s public dungeon, not his own hidden cells. The bed he lay on, hardwood with no covers, typical for a prisoner. The light coming from above was a soft purple, indicating that dawn was only an hour or two away. This however made seeing farther than five feet away difficult. His robes seemed to be all that was left on him. No pouches on his belt or ingredients in his pockets making him feel almost naked. 

“My my, what a sticky situation we have here.” a deep voice almost sang from the darkness.

Viren bolted up, trying to look as battle ready as possible with his hands bound.

“Who is there? Show yourself!” Viren commanded.

“But, of course. I am always here to help you Viren.” came a smooth, almost amused reply. From the shadows just beyond the bars of his cell, a figure appeared, a translucent being that felt almost ancient, and ethereal. The robes it wore were covered in a starry pattern extending to its drawn hood, which seemed to be covering some large headdress. “Past, present, and future.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Viren asked, gaining an ever increasing feeling of dejavu. 

“I assume by now you have figured out that something is off, that you are not where you’re supposed to be. Well my dear Viren, that is because I have brought you to a new and interesting time, specifically somewhere around thirty two years in the future. This may sound crazy I know, but I assure you, it’s possible.” The stranger explained, matter-of-factly. 

Viren stared at him for a minute, before deciding that this was all in his imagination, probably from being hit in the head, and layed back down on the bed.

“Come now, I assure you this is real. I am bound to you Viren, through space and time. And through this bond, I have called you to me, through all these years, so that I can finally ensure that your will is done.” The stranger almost pleaded with him.

“And what is that exactly? And why should I believe you? I don’t know who or what you are.” Viren huffed.

“I am your humble servant. You wish to secure a bright future for all of humanity. I seek only to aid you in that endeavor. I have earned your trust before, and I will do so again. You need your freedom first. Then I believe some pesky elves should be removed.” The stranger grinned.

Callum fidgeted with his scarf as he climbed the stairs. He said he wanted to talk to his mom, and he did, but now he had no idea what he wanted to ask. The urge to talk to her for hours had welled in his chest, however he hadn’t even started and was drawing a blank on what to say. He was running out of stairwell to climb and still no closer to a conversation starter, when he was interrupted by Queen Sarai herself. 

“Callum! It is still no stranger to see you fully grown today than it was yesterday. But look at you! An early riser, with a healthy lifestyle. I’m so proud.” Saria practically beamed.

“Oh… um.. Thanks. I mean most days I still try to sleep in. But I’m a dad you know. I’ve got to set a good example. I mean, you know. You’re a mom. I mean of course you know you’re  a mom. How wouldn’t you know? Heh heh.” Callum couldn’t stop the word vomit spilling from his mouth. “You were a really good one too. I mean ARE a good one. I’m sorry. I don’t know if that’s rude. I’ve never talked with someone from the past before… Sorry.” Callum sighed, trying to reign in the thoughts racing through his head. 

“Honey, it’s ok, take a breath. Are you ok?” Sarai grabbed his shoulder, concern flooding her face.

“Sorry, yeah I’m ok. It’s just weird having you back.” Callum said.

“How long have I been gone?” Sarai’s tone softened, looking directly at her son.

“Um… About thirty… one, thirty two years. It’s been a while.” he said.

“It’s ok that you’re nervous. If my dad suddenly showed up I would be too. Come on, Harrow is checking on the kids, why don’t we get something to snack on before breakfast?” Sarai offered.

“Well Barius usually has some jelly tarts ready for Ezran early in the morning.” Callum suggested.

“I knew I liked that man.” Sarai smiled.

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

Ezran shuffled towards the castle kitchen, desperate for a sugary boost to his morning after the near all-nighter he just pulled. As he rounded the last corner, voices caught him off-guard enough to bring him to attention. It was Callum and Queen Sarai talking softly to one another, their voices packed with emotion. Ezran ducked behind the door frame and listened as well as he could.

“It wasn’t easy growing up without you after that, no. I tried so hard to grow into the man I thought you wanted me to be.... But at some point, I was so busy just trying to survive, or do what was right, that I forgot to be what you wanted of me. I guess that just made me think I failed you.” Callum sounded like he was about to cry.

“Sweetie, I promise you, that you haven’t failed me. All I wanted for you is to grow up happy and healthy. The last thing I want is for you to try to be something you’re not just to please someone else. And look at you! You’re High Mage, have a happy family, you stay active and just. You’re everything I ever hoped you would be. I love you Callum. I always will.” A ruffle of clothing made Ezran think they were hugging.

“Thanks mom. It’s really good having you back.” Callum sniffled a little as he said that. “Come on, we should get out of here before Ezran finds out we ate all his jelly tarts.”

“YOU WHAT?!” Ezran shouted as he jumped out of the doorway.

“EZ!” Callum jumped to his feet, clearly shocked to see Ezran catching them in the act of stealing his precious morning tarts.

“Aw I needed those after staying up all night….” Ezran’s anguished cry petered out almost immediately as a familiar sensation exploded from within. The smile that spread across his face instantly inspired confusion in Callum and Sarai.

“Zym’s almost here!” Ezran shouted as he bolted for the courtyard to greet his winged friend for the first time in a year.

[itsuki-minamy]

“DO NOTHING DAY”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Douhan Hirasaka's daily life is extremely dangerous and busy.

In some cases, she can perform your duties as a U-Rank of "Jungle", while in other cases she can undertake individual work as Douhan Hirasaka. Each of these is a dangerous business, such as infiltration or sabotage, which can be fatal if she takes an illegal and wrong step.

Hirasaka is a professional, but she does not belong to an organization, in “Jungle” she is an independent intelligence agent who is too free and disorganized. Their motto is: You have to ensure your own safety. No one will come to help you if you fall into a corner.

To do that, she must be cautious, shy. Carry out the preparations carefully and only accept successful requests. Courage is reckless. The challenge is suicide. Fighting after winning first is Douhan Hirasaka's work philosophy.

Naturally, that daily life brings a lot of stress.

Douhan Hirasaka is a professional. If she continues to work and ignore the stress on her mind and body, it is well known that she will eventually fail.

So she needed a "day to do nothing."

++++++++++

"......"

On the futon, Hirasaka woke up.

Getting up sickly. Looking at the digital clock by the bed, it was close to noon. A big yawn. Then she got out of the futon and went to the kitchen.

She puts her mouth directly into the 2-liter plastic bottle and drinks plenty of water. Look at the bathroom water heater, it stayed warm as it was set yesterday. 45 degrees, this is the optimal temperature for Hirasaka.

When she enters the bathroom, she got into the tub without showering. Hirasaka looks up at the bathroom ceiling and mutters, slowly sitting in the hot water.

"A day when nothing happens."

On the days when nothing is done, nothing is done. When you do, do it thoroughly. That was Douhan Hirasaka. She didn't want to be disturbed, so I turned off her business device.

Hirasaka closed her eyes. As she does so, a thought emerges like a bubble behind her head.

What am I living for?

Douhan Hirasaka needed money for some purpose. Therefore, death was won.

She could not worry about a dangerous business because she could not meet her goals with the prudence she had today. She has not died once or twice due to unforeseen circumstances or the client's betrayal.

However, Hirasaka was unable to fulfill her purpose.

Since then Hirasaka has lived life through inertia. She still does business because she can only do that. She is carefully prepared to avoid risks. Having a "day off doing nothing" to reduce stress. Everything is for business. She wants to live safely and without delay.

Hirasaka has no reason to spare life.

"Is hot."

Hirasaka muttered, getting up from the bathroom.

She cleaned her body, put on her clothes, and her stomach rumbled. Even if you don't have a reason to live, you are hungry. Hirasaka went to the refrigerator, still laughing.

First, she separates the sushi and the vinegar rice.

Next, she separates the pizza ingredients and the dough.

If you put pizza ingredients in vinegar rice, you have the completion of the sushi pizza.

The texture and rich flavor of cheese and rice with vinegar. The material she reserves is a snack for good and kills two birds with one stone. It is a great invention, but there is a downside: if you order it from a normal sushi business, they would reject it. They can get you kicked out. Unless you run the sushi restaurant, you must do it yourself.

Pizza sushi at the kotatsu. The party is unfolding. She scratches her back on the cushion, eats and remembers that.

Previously, she went to a sushi restaurant with a "Scepter 4" spy disguised as a "Jungle" member.

Hirasaka rarely eats with other people. she invites him because she thought he was a promising customer, but she didn't like to see people watching them eat strangely.

If I feed him, what kind of reaction will he do?

Those kinds of things came her mind.

Her lips are slightly distorted. It was a mindless imagination. She has little contact with that boy who became J-Rank, and she has no personal connection.

However, the rich aroma of pasted sake deprives Hirasaka of her thinking and speeds up her mindless imagination.

It is a good time to think that, although they are similar, they like different foods. He has many likes and dislikes, and he can be surprising. However, Gojo is a child, so if it tastes strong, he may be happy to eat it.

"Hm..."

She notices that the bottle was empty. She shakes the bottle upside down and drank the droplets dripping off the rim. Then, as she tasted the last bite, the intercom rang.

"......"

She points her eyes in the opposite direction to the door. On a small monitor, there was an image of a surveillance camera installed around the hiding place. He is not a thug disguised as a home delivery man, but a true home worker.

With her feet in the kotatsu, Hirasaka opened a new sake.

Finally, the courier service gave up and put the luggage in the delivery box.

After confirming that, Hirasaka lifts her waist.

The box mounted explosive detection system does not work. She did not remember the inconsistency on the delivery note. Hirasaka quickly took out her luggage, returned to the room and opened it.

It was a game.

"......?"

Holds her neck. According to the delivery note, it was she who ordered this. Even if she checks the history from her private terminal, it still remains.

She does not remember at all.

The day she didn't remember, but ordered, was the last day of "doing nothing."

Probably, she ordered it feeling sick and completely forgot. Hirasaka is a professional, but sometimes these things happen.

It is an inexpensive version of a gaming console from just a few generations ago. Prerecorded games were also popular in the past.

When she was looking at the titles, she knew why she ordered this game.

Contains the title that "kid" liked.

A fighting game. Played many times. Hirasaka didn't like games, but it was fun playing with him.

Connect and run.

Played multiple times. While repeating the game using the characters used in the past, she got to the boss and saw the end.

It wasn't fun at all.

Hirasaka laughed. Drink alcohol while she thinks.

Nonsense imagination. Nonsense feeling. And a meaningless game.

But for a woman living a meaningless life like Hirasaka, that may be appropriate.

Drunkenness is turning into drowsiness. Hirasaka turned off the game console and plunged into the kotatsu. Close her eyes. The next time she opens her eyes, the "do nothing" day will be over.

Contrary to Hirasaka's wishes, she was unable to see any dreams.

[holidayblindspot]

Season of Hate/Season of Love (part 3/3)

The third and final part of rAnsomedr0gue’s seasonal Reller fic. She doesn’t have a Tumblr account, but I do give her a link to these posts, so please do comment and let her know what you think!

Previous parts are HERE and HERE.

***

Remi wakes with a start, a silent scream still caught in her throat.

It was a nightmare, she realizes. Kurt, getting beaten to death in an alleyway. Arriving too late, sobbing even though there’s no one there to pretend for.

She turns to see if she’s disturbed his sleep and groans when she realizes he’s not in bed. Remi wonders if she reached out for him in the middle of the night, the way her body often does, and hurt him by accident. She had told him she would sleep in the other room, wary of his injuries. But he’d insisted he needed her near him to rest and she had been unreasonably relieved to be able to stay.

It had been a long night of x-rays, CT scans, various other medical procedures. Eventually he’d received nine stitches for a cut above his left eyebrow and been diagnosed with three broken ribs and a concussion. Not bad considering the doctor had been worried about a skull fracture, bleeding in his brain. And about as well as possible considering how he’d looked when she found him in the alley.

Remi shudders, exhales the bad memory. There had been a lot of blood and it hadn’t been immediately obvious that none of it was life-threatening. Her heart had frozen in her chest until he sat up, tried to pretend he was okay. Of course all she could do then was hold him in pure relief, none of it an act.

However much she needs to get rid of him, Remi can’t deny the way it had felt to cradle his stupid heroic self. Her moronic pretend FBI husband who somehow survived an encounter with an armed giant intent on murder suicide. On Christmas Eve.

They’d gone to dinner and he’d saved their server’s life. She was almost glad he’d forgotten his gun or else he’d be insufferable about being right. As it was, he seemed to think his mistake nullified any reason to praise him and had kept apologizing for ruining their night. Even though she told him countless times that she wasn’t upset, kind of wanted to punch him in his already-concussed head for even thinking it.

Remi gets up, really hopes to find him sleeping in the spare room. But when she opens the bedroom door she sees him in the kitchen, making coffee and pulling out breakfast ingredients.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Weller says, looking up as her with a smile. “Merry Christmas.”

Remi sighs, shakes her head at him.

“You should be resting,” she admonishes. “I can make breakfast, you need to take it easy.”

Weller shakes his head at her then winces and frowns at the movement.

“I couldn’t sleep, and you needed the rest. We were at the hospital until past two and I know you didn’t fall asleep for awhile,” he argues. “Besides, Allie’s going to be here soon with Bee and I promised her French toast with berry sauce.”

Remi walks over to him, feels an almost primal need to touch him growing in her gut. Wraps her arms around his hips from behind, rests her head between his shoulders gently.

“Merry Christmas, Kurt,” she rumbles into his back. “I am so thankful you’re here.”

There’s still so much truth to that statement that she’s momentarily stunned. While Remi had come to accept that some part of her cared about Weller, she’d never been forced to confront the extent of it. But seeing a beast of a man about to break his head, that had made her react so strongly that it was impossible to ignore. And she hasn’t shaken it yet, the fear of losing him.

Kurt turns carefully until her head is just above his collarbone, lying on top of the bullet burn across his chest. It’s hard to even think about it. A bullet that close to his heart, the slightest change in angle and he’d be gone.

Remi looks up at his bruised face, the dried blood on the gauze over his stitches. He’s already developed quite a shiner on his left eye and makes him look soft yet hard, reminds her exactly what he’s like.

“Did you tell Allie what happened?” she asks, thinking of little Bee, how she’s going to react to Weller’s appearance.

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs. “She was pretty upset.”

“Hmmm,” Remi replies. “Yeah well, having to tell Bethany that her Christmas Day visit with daddy is cancelled because he’s dead would probably ruin a lifetime of Christmases for both of them. So I think she has the right.”

“She called me a dumbass about ten times in five minutes,” he groans.

Remi hides a grin into his chest, enjoys it that Allie can call Kurt on his shit so readily.

“And I couldn’t even defend myself. I forgot my gun!” he exclaims irritably. “I’m never going to live it down. I shouldn’t even be here.”

She can feel him suddenly tense up in her arms, become taut with self-blame, what ifs.

Oh Kurt, she thinks. Only Weller could feel bad about getting beat up in an alley while saving a woman’s life.

“Hey, hey,” she mutters into his ear. “Calm down, Kurt. You know she’s just worried about you and that’s how it comes out.”

Remi briefly pictures Allie spitting fire and tears, everyone sobbing. Yet again she is so glad he’s still there, that she isn’t spending Christmas crying with his family, mourning with his team. She’s also pretty darn thankful that her earlier self didn’t kill him back when she hated him more.

The truth is so glaring, it’s impossible to ignore. She had failed again. Made the same mistake twice. Apparently Kurt Weller was her fucking kryptonite.

And here she is, Christmas day, trying to comfort him, his pounding heart under her ear. Thinking how he can be so fragile with her, how it should make her feel disdainful. She has no time for emotions other than anger, hate.

But it’s Kurt, and it’s so sad to see him hurting. So maybe she has the time, a whole day in fact. With overly emotional Weller, who she inexplicably loves.

“Breathe,” she says. Rubs her hand up and down his spine, relishes the warmth of his body up against hers.

Weller must finally hear her because he takes five deep breaths and then lets out a tired sigh. Remi looks up at him, at his face pale and exhausted eyes.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asks, fairly sure she already knows the answer.

He shakes his head just slightly and she can tell he has a bad headache. No wonder he’s especially reactive; he hasn’t slept and is obviously still in pain. He is in no condition to deal with a toddler on Christmas Day, even one that is usually quite well-behaved. And he is going to be extremely upset with himself if anything goes wrong, that she already knows. Which she really doesn’t want.

Kurt deserves a nice day, Remi thinks uncharacteristically. He’s been trying so hard.

“Look, it’s just six am,” she says. “Allie isn’t due until eight, I’m going to text her and get her to bring Bee at eleven instead. You can make French toast for brunch if you insist but only if you get some sleep between now and then.”

She sees Weller forming a ‘no’ with his lips and she shushes him with a finger.

“She’s a toddler, Kurt. She won’t have any idea we started Christmas three hours later than planned. And you need some rest if there’s any hope that this day will turn out the way you want it to. So I’m going to clean your cut and you’re going to close your eyes and relax. Do you want to do this on the couch or the bed?”

Remi wears a look that brooks no argument and, for once, Weller doesn’t try to fight her.

“Couch,” he sighs.

She smiles her relief and takes his hand silently, leads him over to the couch. He is surprisingly docile considering how tense he still is and she thinks he must just be so tired he can’t bother to resist.

Remi starts by sitting him down on the sofa, helping him find a comfortable position for his sore body. Knows from experience the constant pain of broken ribs, how hard it is to get proper rest when it hurts just to lie down. When he’s finally settled, Weller leans his head against the back of the couch, closes his eyes when she can’t help but sift her fingers through his hair.

She fetches the first aid kit and a couple ice packs then returns to tend to Kurt. It’s strange, to want to take care of him, to not be pretending anymore, not even to herself. She remembers when he first got out of the hospital after that abdominal abscess surgery, being disgusted at having to change his bandages. How she had made sure to be ‘accidentally’ too rough as often as she could.

Now she gently wipes at his stitches until all the dried blood has loosened off, ensures that his cut is neat and clean before brushing her lips against his wound, another small soft moment that’s hard to reconcile with her usual hard self. It’s entirely worth it though when he dons a sleepy grin at the kiss, blindly reaches for her hand.

Remi responds automatically, grasps his hand tightly and weaves her fingers between his. She brings their hands up to her lips, plants a kiss on his thumb. Then impulsively she brings their matched hands to her own chest, holds them there against her heartbeat.

It’s a thing that Kurt does and it’s always made her feel uncomfortable. It’s much too intimate, more emotional than kissing or sex because she can feel how special it is to Jane. So of course she’s never thought to initiate it before, but at the moment Remi instinctively knows it will soothe him.

His eyes flicker open for a moment and settle on their hands against her heart. He’s wearing a soft satisfied smile, looks at with such love that she feels tears rise unexpectedly, turns to blinks them away before glancing back to see if Kurt’s noticed.

But thankfully he’s already fallen asleep, his lips still wearing a gentle upwards curve. So she kisses his hand one more time before letting it go, resists the urge to run her fingers through his scruffy hair again. Stands up and looks down at him fondly, so glad he’s getting some rest before the small whirlwind known as his daughter arrives.

There’s a chance she will still need to kill him. But first he’s going to have the Christmas he deserves with his daughter and a wife that loves him. Even if it’s not his wife.

***

Kurt wakes to a tender kiss, thinks it must be one of those dreams where you think you’ve woken up but you’re still dreaming.

He keeps his eyes closed for a moment, not wanting the experience to end. It feels so real, like a memory come to life. Jane wanting to touch him, initiating physical contact. A fragment of their lives before they found out she was sick.

Finally, he has to see for himself and opens his eyes, confirms that he’s curled up on the couch and Jane is leaning over him, her lips on his.

I should almost die more often, he thinks idly. It’s the closest she’s been for so long.

Of course that thought is immediately followed with a wave of guilt, the thought that she should not have to be worrying about him on Christmas. Especially considering it was all due to his own stupidity.

He tries to wipe away the negative mood, revel in the moment as Jane trails a line of kisses from his mouth to his jaw and then up to his bruised eye. She finishes with her lips against his left temple, her breath warm in his ear.

“Time to wake up,” she whispers. “Allie and Bee are going to be here in less than an hour.”

Jane stands up and he reaches for her reflexively, too aroused to think about his movements. Then immediately pays for it when his broken ribs remind him of reality, jolt him awake with a grunt of pain.

Jane passes him some ibuprofen and a glass of water without commenting on the pathetic noise he just made. She is being so good to him, he can’t help but revel in it. Even though he feels unmanly somehow, letting her take care of him while she’s sick. Especially because his injuries are entirely his own fault.

He forgot to bring his gun to a gun fight. It’s so ridiculous he can’t even think about it.

Vaguely he knows he’s being hard on himself when he should focus on the fact that it’s Christmas and he’s about to spend the day with his daughter and his wife, the two people he loves most. But it’s so easy to think about what could have been, how the hell Jane would have explained it to Allie and Bee.

“Kurt, snap out of it,” she says, as if she’s reading his mind. “Everything’s fine. Christmas is going to be great.”

Weller tries to focus on Jane, is thankful that the pounding in his head has ebbed to a minor throb after some sleep. He tells himself to believe her words, that he isn’t going to ruin the day by being a mopey bastard. That he has a wife who loves him, a daughter he adores.

“Do you want to try and shower before they come?” she asks.

As much as he likes the idea of coercing Jane into the shower with him, reality sinks in quickly when it takes all he has just to pull himself into a sitting position, get his feet on the ground. Every movement makes his broken ribs grate painfully and he wonders how he’s going to deal with Bee flinging herself at him the way she usually does.

“Uh, I don’t know if I can,” he admits.

“I thought you might say that,” Jane replies sympathetically. “So I started running the bath. I think that’ll be easier.”

Kurt looks up at her gratefully, takes the hand she’s holding out to him and lets her gently help him up from the couch. When he’s standing he expects her to let go but she keeps pulling him towards her until she can wrap her arms around him.

“Does your head feel better?” she asks, scrutinizing his eyes for clues.

He nods and manages not to wince, or feel sick. Definite improvement, he thinks.

“Good,” she sighs. “Now let’s see what a bath does for the rest of you.”

Jane turns and leads him to the washroom, sits him on the edge of the tub as she unbuttons and removes his pajama shirt. Then stands him up again to drop his pants to his ankles, help him step out of the and into the bath without jostling his ribs too much.

She lets him get settled in the tub before starting to bathe him, running a soapy washcloth over his lurid bruises, gently rubbing shampoo into his hair. Despite all his injuries, it feels fantastic to just sit there in the hot water, let it soothe his aching body as Jane scrubs him clean, rinses him off and then helps him stand up, wraps him in a giant towel.

Life with Jane is the best present he could ever imagine. On Christmas or any other day. Even when he’s an achy mess, feels down on himself.

Kurt lets her lead him into their bedroom, sit him on the bed and finish toweling him off. Then she lightly rubs analgesic muscle relaxant over his chest, frowning at the all mottled bruises already starting to darken.

He reminds himself not to tell her that it’s worth being in that much pain to have her touch him like that. No matter how true it is, it’s self-pitying, pathetic.

“That must hurt a lot,” she murmurs, running her fingers over the deep purple of his torso.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles.

“Liar,” she replies, a proud but exasperated look in her eyes. “I’ve put some clothes out for you then if you’re so fine. Get dressed, they’re going to be here in ten minutes.”

She leaves him to consider his mistake as he stares at the clothing, tries to mentally will it onto his body. Getting his boxers and a pair of sweatpants pulled up to his waist takes nearly five minutes and leaves him sweaty with the effort. He’s only managed to do up a few buttons on his shirt when there’s a knock at the front door and Weller’s suddenly filled with excitement, so ready to see Bethany that he forgets to worry about her being a human missile sometimes.

By the time he’s got his shirt done up Jane has already let Allie and Bee in and opens the door to their room to check on his progress, smiles when she sees he’s dressed.

“Looking good, Special Agent,” she teases as she steps aside to let him out the door.

His daughter must have been searching for him because she comes hurtling at him right as he steps out of the bedroom, clearly expecting to be swept up in his arms as usual. Kurt beams reflexively but then realizes his predicament, knows he’s going to end up shouting and scaring Bee if he tries to pick her up and that she’s going to be very disappointed if he doesn’t.

Thankfully Jane reads the situation perfectly and intercepts Bethany by sweeping her into a huge hug first before ‘flying’ her over to him and gently placing her in his arms. Even just supporting her toddler weight is a challenge but he manages to breathe through it as she wraps her arms around his neck and squeezes as hard as she can.

“Hi Daddy,” she screeches with glee. “Is Christmas!”

It’s insane that a drunken fuck up could have brought so much pure joy into his life. Maybe the only good thing to have come out of finding Taylor, arresting Jane.

“Hi Bee,” he replies enthusiastically. “Merry Christmas.”

He snuggles his daughter until his body screams and then Allie comes and pulls Bethany off of him, reminds her that they have to be gentle with daddy because he’s hurt.

“Daddy, owie,” Bee says, pointing at Kurt’s black eye and nodding seriously.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big owie alright,” Allie agrees as she passes Bee off to Jane and steps forward to wrap him into a hug.

“We would have both been devastated,” she mutters into his ear. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

She holds him for a lot longer than expected and there’s a shimmer to her eyes when she finally lets go and runs her thumb over his bruised face.

“Now make us that goddamned berry French toast that Bee won’t shut up about,” she demands.

“Yes, ma’am,” Weller replies, still a bit stunned at how emotional everyone is being about him. He still feels guilty extracting sympathy for having made such a monumental error. But he can’t deny that it does feel good to be cared about, especially on Christmas.

He walks over to the kitchen and starts making a berry compote while Jane and Bee examine the ornaments on the tree and Allie quietly asks him for details on the previous night. He gives her the full blow by blow, knows she won’t let it go until he does. But at least she refrains from calling him any names, just shakes her head at him when he admits why he hadn’t been wearing his holster.

Weller serves up breakfast, but somewhat disastrously forgets he’s not supposed to laugh when Bethany’s eyes light up maniacally at the powdered sugar being dusted on her French toast.

The laughing leads to a moment of panicked pain, then some wracked coughing before his ribs stop screaming at him and his vision clears up.

He hadn’t even noticed Jane getting up to rub his back, Allie distracting Bethany by feeding her breakfast, telling her that there was nothing to be worried about. He feels so useless and horrible in the moment, frightening his little girl by sputtering in pain, unable to even laugh without screwing things up.

But then he hears Jane muttering in his ear, telling him to breathe, that the pain is only temporary, that he’s going to be okay. And, once his heart rate settles, the panic in his chest fades too, lets him look up and smile reassuringly at Bee, who instantly changes her little toddler frown into a matching grin.

“Sorry honey,” he apologizes, walking over to kiss his daughter. “I didn’t mean to scare you. How’s your French toast?”

“Yummy!” she shouts, any fear clearly already forgotten.

Bethany shows off her berry-stained smile, reaches up for another hug. He wants to pick her up but realizes it’s a bad idea just as Jane comes around and scoops Bee up towards him so she can wrap her sticky hands around his neck and he can hug them both without the risk of dropping his kid or crying out in pain.

Kurt stands there, one arm wrapped around his daughter, the other around his wife. Sees Allie smiling broadly as she takes a photo of their cute Christmas moment.

What would he do without the women in his life?

Certainly he’d be a mess. Probably miserable and alone, wallowing in guilt. Not feeding his daughter her favourite ‘bewwy’ sauce, stealing fruity holiday kisses from his wife.

Somehow his near fatal mistake hasn’t ruined things, and he feels so loved it brings tears to his eyes again. Which doesn’t make any sense to him, that he could screw up so badly yet things could turn out so perfectly. But for once he’s not going to overthink the issue, is just going to accept his incredibly good fortune. After all, it’s rather fitting that his best Christmas with Jane involves a life or death incident, broken ribs and a concussion.

***

She was raised on hardness, no time for sentiment. The only love she and Roman had ever experienced after the death of their birth parents was tough love, even for each other. A product of a life of harsh environments, intense competition, where affection was a rare commodity to be hoarded.

Remi always thought, was always afraid, that she didn’t know how to love. Even with all her boyfriends, even with Oscar. Because she was so steeped in hate, raised on it. She thought she’d loved Oscar, but then she had left him so readily, could have easily chosen not to. The mission had meant so much more than what she felt for Oscar, it was all that really mattered to her.

Somehow she knows it hadn’t been nearly as easy for Jane to leave Kurt, that she only managed to force herself away because her presence put them in danger. Jane left to save him, give him a life with his kid. Because he was what mattered to her, nothing else.

It’s what made her so jealous, angry. That Jane got the chance she never had. A blank slate. A chance at love.

Because how could Remi have learned love from a mother that was willing to sacrifice her own daughter?

She watches as Weller helps Bethany push a giant snowball through the park, makes her clap and shout with happiness as he picks it up gingerly and puts it on top of the one they had previously made.

“Okay, now we just need a head,” he comments. “One more snowball?”

“One more!” Bee hollers, already smashing snow together to get things started.

It is beyond obvious that there is nothing Kurt Weller would ever sacrifice his daughter for. That he would hurt anyone that even suggested it.

What’s troubling is that, right now, she feels the same way. She wouldn’t trade Bethany’s life for anything, not even to free Shepherd. It’s an unsettling feeling to realize that her terrorist goal of regime change can suddenly not mean anything when love is in play. That she will never be able to kill Kurt Weller, even if she keeps telling herself she will, even if her mission requires it.

As if to prove the point, Remi’s chest warms as she looks up to see Kurt and Bee charging up to her, all rosy cheeks and soggy gear. The moment of affection costs her as she realizes too late that it’s an ambush and can’t avoid the oncoming barrage of snowballs, takes hit after hit before finally managing to scoop up some ammunition of her own, start firing back.

Thankfully Weller can’t really throw hard due to his ribs and she ends up turning Bethany into a double agent, sends her in for a sneak attack that ends up with the three of them soaking, Kurt asking for mercy. He’s got the look of a fevered young boy, joyous but exhausted when she reaches up to kiss his snow-cooled lips, their breath all steamy around them.

After the snow battle she scoops the tired child up in her arms and they walk home, Bee still awake enough to remember that she gets presents next. The toddler babbles on about Santa while Kurt walks beside them and beams at his kid. It is all sickeningly cute. But Remi loves it anyways, can even admit it at the moment.

Of course there’s hot chocolate once they’re back inside and changed into dry clothes, the sugar in the drink breathing energy back into Bethany. She starts in on her stocking, marveling at all the trinkets in the way only a two year old can. And Kurt is so relaxed, all smiles as he gives his daughter way too many presents, everything her little heart desires.

Remi watches and thinks about her own gift to Kurt, all the anxiety she has tied up around it. He’s made no mention of anything for her yet either, which seems out of character for him.

She still wonders if she made the right choice; it had been really difficult to come up with what Jane would give him. Other than more of those crime novels he’s obsessed with, except he already has all of them, of course.

Remi’s still thinking about it nervously when there’s a knock on the door and she looks at Weller, surprised. They aren’t expecting anyone else for Christmas and Allie isn’t due back until dinner. But she notes that Kurt is looking at the door with a rather self-satisfied expression as she gets up to answer it.

When she opens the door and Avery is standing there shouting Merry Christmas, Remi realizes she should have guessed. Even though Avery didn’t know about Jane’s diagnosis, had been spending the holidays with a best friend from home. Kurt would have wanted Jane to have at least one Christmas with her daughter, would have found a way.

“Merry Christmas! Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” Remi exclaims, her emotions all stirred up. She wraps Avery into a hug, bites down hard on her own lip. She had not expected this, has to blink away tears.

“Yeah, and I brought your other gift from Kurt too,” Avery replies cryptically. “Because he’s incapacitated. I just have to haul it in.”

Curiosity piqued, Remi stands there, feels Kurt approach from behind. He wraps his arms around her waist, leans into her gently.

“I didn’t tell her your diagnosis,” he whispers in her ear. “I just said you weren’t feeling well and it was her idea to come.”

“Sure it was,” Remi replies as she turns to face him.

Kurt grins, looks so fucking proud of himself.

“Merry Christmas Jane,” he says fondly.

“Thank you, Kurt,” she replies, the damn tears threatening again. She had never expected to meet her daughter, much less spend Christmas with her.

Avery returns with a gigantic beanbag chair and Remi grins genuinely at the ridiculous object. Kurt had found her lounging in one after an exhausting day arresting criminals ended in a furniture warehouse. She had been so comfortable she was almost asleep when Weller surprised her by leaping on top of her, then snuggling in beside her.

Now she can admit it had been pretty cute. Special Agent Weller all curled up on the job in a giant beanbag. The image comes back to her head, makes her smile again at the memory.

They pull the chair into the apartment and Bee looks at it with wide eyes, then shyly runs up to the big sister she’s only recently met. Avery pulls the toddler into a hug and then tosses her into the beanbag, much to Bethany’s delight.

“More!” she shouts, clearly an adrenaline junkie like her parents.

Remi takes over the task of entertaining Bethany to give Avery a chance to talk to Kurt. He seems to understand her daughter better than she does, gets on just fine with her even after Avery helped set him up, almost destroyed his marriage.

“I can’t believe you got shot on Christmas Eve,” Avery frowns, wrapping her arms gingerly around Kurt. “That is not cool.”

“I didn’t get shot, the bullet barely touched me,” Weller grumbles. “I’m fine.”

“If there was blood from a bullet, you got shot,” Avery argues. “And yea, you look so fine. How would you feel if I hugged you a little tighter?”

Remi grins at Avery’s demanding, worried tone, Weller’s useless attempts to deflect her concern. Finding her daughter as a result of ZIP-ping herself was the most unlikely result she could have ever imagined.  She had never let herself think about searching for her, Shepherd would have never allowed it. But the chance to meet her kid, see how she’d turned out. It meant even more to her than she realized.

A bit later, just before dinner, they’ve somehow all managed to squeeze onto the beanbag, even Weller and his sore ribs. Remi looks at her fake family and thinks she’s never had a Christmas like this. For her it’s been a childhood of stark loveless military style holidays, an adulthood that had no space for celebratory love.

She realizes it’s time to give Kurt her present, suddenly feels extremely anxious. Remi is not a timid person, yet she’s nervous about this, really hopes she got it right. It had been a real conundrum; one she couldn’t exactly ask anyone for help with. She had tried so hard to think like Jane, channel her hated alter ego for this one favour. And of course Jane would think about  about what matters most to Weller, would give him something straight from the heart.

Remi extracts herself from the heap of bodies, goes and gets the present from under the tree. Passes it to Kurt who’s just about managed to sit up in the big floppy chair.

“Merry Christmas, Kurt,” she says shyly.

He opens it carefully, looks a bit apprehensive himself. When it’s finally out of the wrapping, he stares at it wordlessly for a long time, then looks up at her with moist eyes.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

Remi feels all her worry fall away, warmth pumping through her heart.

“Daddy and Jane and Avewy and meeeeeee!” Bethany calls out, pointing at the framed drawing in Kurt’s lap.

Weller smiles broadly, his eyes still glistening.

“It sure is, Bee,” he replies. “It’s beautiful, Jane.”

It’s all Kurt Weller wants, what he loves best. His wife, his little girl. His big girl that he readily takes responsibility for, because that’s the kind of man he is.

And if she can give it to him, even just for a day? He deserves it. For Christmas.

Remi crawls back into the beanbag, snuggles up against Kurt who’s lying back, still staring at the picture with a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” she says, settling in close beside him.

Weller passes the drawing over so Avery and Bethany can see, turns his attention to his wife. The look in his eyes is overly expressive, the way it always is for her.

“I love it,” he replies.

“And I love you,” he adds, with an air of reverence.

“She knows,” Avery groans. “You tell her all the time.”

Remi laughs, nuzzles her nose into the crook of Kurt’s neck.

“I know,” she murmurs. “I love you too.”

She could never have seen this coming, Love, a family. Making her teenager scurry off to check on dinner by kissing her husband too passionately on an absurd piece of furniture.

The thing is, it’s not her life. It doesn’t belong to her. She should be so very disdainful of it.

Remi had woken up six months ago with a husband she hated voraciously, alone and spiteful in a world gone wrong. But if someone came in tonight to try and tried to hurt him, she knows she would defend him to her last breath. Even though it would mean failing her mission, giving up on Shepherd.

Because he’s a good-hearted stubborn bastard, Mr tough guy Fed with a thoughtful loving soul. And right now she wants this more than anything. For him and for herself. Their family all together on a perfect Christmas day, Kurt at peace with himself, feeling loved.

Even if it isn’t really her family, even if she has to give it all back to Jane one day. This is her Christmas present to her other self.

I saved him for you, Jane, she thinks as he trails pre-dinner kisses up her neck. And gave him the Christmas he deserved.

Because Kurt Weller won her over too. Screwed things up epically by making her love him, giving her the best goddamned Christmas of her life.

[honeymoonjin]

Chapter Two

Summary: When you hear that your recently deceased grandmother left you her property in her will, at first you think that a dinky old cottage in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to mean much for you. But after spending a night there, you discover something far more valuable than the house itself: a hidden door that leads to another time, the same place but over 200 years in the past. In the late 18th Century, there is a king who will die before his 21st birthday unless you can save him. Will you help him, even if it means leaving your own life behind?

A/N: I’ll be updating this story twice weekly, Thursdays (9am GMT) and Saturdays (8pm GMT). Ask to be included in the taglist to keep up to date with the newest chapters!

The mystery man, whose name is actually Yoongi, seems surprised you didn’t see this coming. Apparently he’s spoken many times with your recently deceased grandmother, and she had planned on telling you before she went.

“Time travel,” you muse, staring vacantly at the dancing flames in the fireplace as Yoongi unhooks a small cauldron and pours out a steaming liquid into two clay cups. “Really, this is easily the most elaborate dream I’ve ever had.”

“Please, Y/n,” he instructs calmly as he returns and hands you a mug, “have something warm to drink to calm you down. This isn’t a dream. Don’t worry, you can come and go at any time.”

You just shake your head, still letting your vision haze over. “This is too crazy. How does it even work?”

He sends you a grin so small you almost miss it in your periphery. “I would imagine that the future would have more to say about science than the past. You are a scientist, no?”

You break your empty stare at look up at him, letting your fingers curl into the warm of the mug. “Well, kinda, I’m in medical school. How did you know that?”

“Your grandmother visits often. Visited often,” he corrects with a sullen look. Yoongi tips his head towards your hands. “Drink, please. I promise I’m not going to turn you into a beast or a frog.”

You smile ruefully and lift the edge to your lips, acting like that wasn’t exactly what you were thinking. After taking a deep mouthful, you let it sit on your tongue, pondering the strange tangy sweetness of the thick drink. It pours into your mouth viscous like a sauce but thins out as you swish it around and finally swallow. “What is this, anyway?”

“A tea of sorts,” he answers cryptically, waving an arm towards the shelves and shelves of ingredients. “As the local shaman, I know many basic recipes that use ingredients in my apothecary for more mundane purposes. This concoction is for clarity of mind and tranquility of heart. It will do us both good. It’s been a rather taxing few hours.”

You eye him dubiously, taking another sip of the brew. “I just got told time travel was real and am now living over two centuries before I’m even born. What have you done that was so taxing?”

Yoongi takes his own sip and quirks an eyebrow. “I changed into a cat,” he responds dryly, “which most would consider a strenuous activity.”

You gape at him. “Wait, you- You were the cat?”

“From what I heard from your grandmother, I had expected you’d be smarter. Yes, I was the cat. I figured your first instinct upon seeing a strange man in your house wouldn’t be to follow him through a secret door. I had to get you to follow me somehow.”

You finish off the drink in a large gulp. “Yeah, why did you want me to follow you through? I assume my grandmother knew about it. She asked me in her will to come here alone.”

He avoids your gaze for a moment. “The King doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to fall terribly ill this morning and be dead by midday should no one intervene. Your grandmother believed she could save him, but as a back-up, she ensured you would be her successor.”

You stare out a tiny fogged-up window. It hadn’t occurred to you that there was an entire world outside these four walls, just the fact that you had gone back to the past was difficult enough to handle. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. I have a life, you know.”

Yoongi puts down his small clay mug and comes to crouch in front of you, clutching your hands with his, still warm from the hot drink. “Y/n, I need you to do this. I don’t know why, because your grandmother wouldn’t tell me much about the future, but I know that you need to do this. Please, if you don’t believe me, go back to your time. I have been told you can find out much information if you giggle.”

You blink in shock, before letting out a noise of agreement when you realize what he’s trying to say. “Google, of course. Okay, I’ll do that. And…the door will always be open? I won’t get stuck here or there?”

He smiles and pats your hands cheerily, all solemnity gone. “Of course. There’s a sort of protection spell on the portal, so that only those that have used it before may use it again. I had to open it for you this time, but in the future, you should have no problem navigating it. Please, if you need to research, do it quickly. Time flows the same in both your world and mine, so you must hurry back.”

You nod and let him hustle you up out of the chair. The small wooden door opens to your touch like he said it would, and you give him and this strange room one last glance before crawling back through.

The library certainly isn’t open this time, you figure, your phone reading just before 6am, but luckily you know one of the librarians that basically lives there. “Hey, Joonie,” you call into your phone as you park in the nearly empty parking lot, “I see your Subaru here, I know you’re in the library. Let me in.”

“Wait, you’re at the library? What are you doing?”

You approach the doors and tap impatiently on the glass, spying his shadow approaching. “Come get me, dipshit, it’s a research emergency.”

The figure picks up pace, practically skipping over to you. Namjoon’s tall form casts a shadow over you as he lets you in, and you slip inside, rubbing your freezing hands together. “Research emergency? That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

You grin and ignore him, immediately navigating your way around the university library. Historical records are on the third floor, so you rush up the stairs with a confused yet nevertheless excited Namjoon behind you.

The two of you met on the very first day of classes. You were so worried about bringing the right textbooks that you forgot to bring any pen and paper. Namjoon was sitting beside you and had two pencil cases filled to the brim. Even so, he watched you like a hawk to make sure you gave it back at the end of the lecture, and slowly over time you became like the Karate Kid and that old master. Truthfully, you would’ve failed all of your first-year courses were it not for him kicking your ass into gear. You knew he would be the one to help you here.

“Okay, Namjoon, I need records for King- Fuck, I never asked his actual name.” You curse your stupidity and come to a halt, Namjoon stumbling to avoid bowling you over. “If I gave you a year, could you give me who the King was in that time?”

Namjoon frowns at you. “How is this an emergency?”

You nod resolutely and continue on. “Good, that sounds like a yes to me. Let’s go. The year is 1743, and the King dies that year apparently.”

“Apparently? Y/n, I really worry about you sometimes. I don’t need to bother with the records, King Jeon died in 1743 from bleeding out. It was a pretty big deal at the time; he was the youngest man to ever take the throne, and because he had no heirs, the entire royal family changed. But why do you need to know this?”

You stare at him. “Namjoon, you’re studying to be a heart surgeon. Where the fuck do you get time to study history?”

He crosses his arms defensively. “A thank you would be nice. Did I save your research emergency?”

Your mind is whirring. Yoongi said he died later today, so if it’s bleeding out, that’s a pretty quick death. You need to get back there and tell Yoongi. “It does, thank you, Namjoon. You’re positively indispensable!”  

His face warms at the praise, and he gives you a quick hug, promising to catch up sometime, before you dash back out the door.

It seems that Yoongi’s been waiting for you when you return, as he leaps up immediately and shoves a pile of fabric to you. “Proper attire,” he explains, “what you’re wearing will get you noticed in all the wrong ways.”

You stare down at your jeans and tank top. That’s probably fair; you wouldn’t exactly look like someone from the eighteenth century in these. “Where can I change?”

He jerks his head towards a smaller room off to the side. “I’ve set up my store room as temporary lodging should you need to spend the night here. You can pull the tapestry over the doorway for some privacy.

You quickly do as he asks and try not to judge the clothing too hard. It’s a brown dress, thick fabric making it rather heavy, and the front is low enough to require a petticoat underneath to preserve your modesty. After returning to the main room with the skirts bunched up in your hands, you question where he got these from.

“An unlucky maiden left her laundry hanging outside overnight and I simply chose to remind her to be more careful.”

You level a gaze. “You stole it.”

“That is another way of phrasing it, yes. Anyway, enough semantics, the sun has already risen, and we need to hurry.”

TAGLIST Message me or send an ask to be added to the taglist for Sovereign, and never miss a new chapter!

@sonyeonsideupsmile  @sweetcheeksdna (I can’t seem to tag you!)  @hoodiebangtan 

[adventuresofninnaly]

The adventure begins!

Ninnaly woke up in cold sweat. Nightmares again, this time about a giant, black dragon attacking Helgen. Why Helgen? Why Dragons?! There haven’t been any dragons in centuries, if there were any to being with! Only stories for children.

She noticed the sun had start to rise, so she sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, stretched her stiff body and yawning. She grabbed her worktunic and headed out of her bedroom, and down the stairs. She threw some firewood on the firepit, and casted a simple fire-spell on it. “Being raised by a former battle-mage surely had it’s perks.” Ninnaly said quietly with a slight smile on her lips. She sat down and started heating some water for her tea and grabbed a piece of bread. “I will try to remember buying some food later, before I go home from work” she thought. “but knowing myself, I’ll probably forget.”.

Ninnaly sighed and dropped down some lavender, a few juniper berries cut in half and a few drops of honey in her cup and poured some water on top. She started thinking back to her time in Helgen. She hadn’t been there in four years, since she first arrived in Skyrim. The innkeeper Vilod was nice enough to let her stay for as long as she needed, in exchange for helping him with his inn. It was Vilod who had teached her how to make the Lavender and Juniper berry tea. The honey was her own idea, being a sucker for all things sweet. Well, almost everything. She disliked sweetrolls. They looked weird, and was too sweet. Taking a sip of her tea and relaxed a bit in her chair.

“I should take a week and go visit old Vilod” She thought. “Would be a nice surprise for the old fool”. Taking a sip of the tea. “But that will have to wait until next month. I have to travel to Falkreath and deliver some alchemy ingredients to ‘Grave Concoctions’.” she exhaled and took a big gulp from the cup. “After that, I should have enough coin to buy myself a horse. Which will make my job so much easier, and I can carry a greater shipment”.

She sat down the now empty cup, took her waterskin, coinpurse and headed out. She was greeted by an amazing weather, for once it wasn’t freezing cold and raining. The birds chirped and the town had started to move. Adrianne had already started to hammer away at some order from the Imperial Legion. The children of Whiterun was already running around and playing tag. A great day, with other words.

Ninnaly headed to Arcadia’s Cauldron, grabbed the supplies and headed towards the gate. The pouch was fairly lightweight for once. Unlike that time she had accepted a request to pick up a shipment for Adrianne last month, down in Riverwood. Adrianne had forgot to mention that Ninnaly was supposed to bring Ulfberth with her, for the extra muscle. Oh well. At least now on the way back from Falkreath she could maybe get a foot in the newly opened shop in Riverwood and get a customer there too.

The trip to Falkreath was awfully uneventful, only a small fight between the Legion and the Stormcloaks. Ninnaly helped heal the wounded Imperial soldiers after the battle had ended. Ninnaly, being a half-elf, she didn’t sympathize much with Ulfric and his thugs. The leader of the small group asked if she wanted to join the Legion, but answered that she didn’t quiet make the cut. Ninnaly was both skilled in swordsmanship and spellcasting, but not enough at the time. The captain said he would recommend her, which may give her some extra leverage. After healing the troops and sharing a meal and some stories, the captain asked where Ninnaly was heading. “To Falkreath, gotta deliver a shipment.” “Is that so?” he said. “We were heading there ourselves, and as you probably can tell, that there are Stormcloaks in the area.” “Do you want company, miss?” He asked politely. “Yes, on the condition you don’t call me miss again.” Ninnaly responded teasingly. Together with the small band of Legionnaires, Ninnaly continued towards Falkreath. They continued to share stories, but keeping their guards up.

Arriving to Falkreath, the group of Legionnaires went their own way towards the Jarls keep. And Ninnaly went to ‘Grave Concoctions’. Delivering the goods. She was amazed of just how many kinds of poisons and deadly concoctions there actually is.

Happily leaving the ‘Grave Concoctions’ with a heavier coin purse, she went to the local inn, Dead Man’s Drink, to rent a room for the slowly approaching night, and get something to eat. A plate of potatoes, leek and a steak was laying in front of her, as someone approached her, and asked to join her at the table. “If you are here to flirt, you can go where you came from.” she said mockingly. “Oh no no no, I’m not interested in that!” the person said, “I’m Lucien Flavius. Scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard, and somewhat of a musician... but that’s more of a hobby, I guess.”. Lucien continued. “I am looking for someone to guide me through Skyrim. For academic purposes mainly, but the province of Skyrim is so fascinating! The flora and fauna. All the ruins, both Dwemer and Nordic. It’s architecture and politics.. “ He interrupted himself. “But, I’m not much of a fighter. I know a few spells, and can just about swing a sword. I would of course pay you, more than enough! That of course, is if you are willing to part ways with your current work. Pay would be no issue, I’m coming from a wealthy family in Cyrodiil, so gold is of no shortage.”.

Ninnaly sat quiet for a while, nibbling on her grilled leek. “I will do it. I don’t have any more orders as of now, and I certainly could enjoy some time on the roads!” She said. “And it would be a perfect opportunity to visit Vilod back in helgen. It’s only a days travel from here.” She thought for herself. “Splendid! Would 300 Septims upfront be enough for now?” Lucien said excitingly. Ninnaly almost chocking on her leek. “And compensate you for anything useful to my research.” He continued, waiting for her answer. “Y-yes, that would be enough.” She answered. “I’m Ninnaly, by the way.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lily! Let us get some rest for now and get on our way tomorrow!” “Wha.. No, Ninnaly.” She said, with a look of confusion on her face. “Don’t worry Lily! I just like giving people nicknames. Unless of course you have a problem with that.” Lucien said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. Ninnaly had never had a nickname. So she agreed to letting him call her Lily. Feeling a strange happiness about the ordeal she went into her rented room for some needed sleep. The following morning she stepped out into the main hall of inn and asked for some lavender tea and a piece of bread. “Good morning, Lily!” Lucien said happily upon seeing her entering the inn. “I have arranged a carriage to take us where ever we want to go. How does that sound?” “Sounds great, I’ll just eat breakfast and then we can travel to Whiterun. I need some things from my house, if that’s okay?” “Certainly! I have heard about the alchemy shop in Whiterun. I would like to visit it to buy some supplies, so that’s perfect.” Lucien said. After breakfast they left Falkreath for Whiterun. The trip was uneventful, it was spent getting to know each other better. Lucien came from a wonderful home in Cyrodiil, just as Ninnaly. So they were excited they had that in common. Arriving in Whiterun, Ninnaly was greeted with hugs by Lars Battle-Born and Mila Valentina. Her “best friends” according to themselves. “Hey guys, where’s Braith? She got in trouble again?” Ninnaly said with a smile, but also concern. “No, she’s sick. Just a cold, so she wanted to stay home today.” “I see, let me just get a few things, and meet me outside Braith’s okay?” Ninnaly smiled. “Friends of yours?” Lucien said with a smile on his lips. “My ‘best’ friends!” Ninnaly responded. “I usually play tag with them once a week. They really appreciate it. Most the adults are busy doing their work, and don’t have the time. But they like that someone can take their time to play with them.” “I see,” Lucien said. “so where do you live?” “Right here!” she said, unlocking the door to Breezehome. It had cost her a lot of Septims to buy it, and to add furniture to it. But it had been worth it. “I’m just going to get my sword and bow. Will you be a dear and take some lavender, a few juniper berries and the bottle of honey from the table in the back?” “Of course!” Lucien responded. “What is it for?” “It’s for Braith, one of the kids here in the town. A few snips of lavender, two juniper berries and a spoon of hone-” “For tea? Sounds awfully sweet if you ask me.” Lucian interrupted. “Yes, for tea. But it works wonders, and gets a sick child up on it’s feet in no time!” Ninnaly said while walking down the stairs. Now donning a short sword and a bow in her back. After exiting the house, Lucien was directed to ‘Arcadia’s Cauldron’ and Ninnaly went to Braith’s house. Saffir opened the door and greeted them. “Oh Ninnaly, how good to see you!” Saffir said, and gave her a quick hug. “Braith has gotten such a cold you could almost mistake her for a man!” she giggled. “I see. good thing I brought my miracle tea for her then!” Ninnaly answered.

After giving Braith the tea and some chit chat with Saffir, she headed out. Telling Lars and Mila to keep an eye on her house while she was away. Promising to bring them a gift in return.

Lucien stood by the gate and waited for her, and waved when he saw Ninnaly.

“All good? Is Braith okay?” He asked. “She will be. Just need to rest until tomorrow and she should be up in no time.” “Great! So, whereto now?” “Helgen.” Ninnaly said. “To Helgen we go.” -> Be sure to join in on the adventures of Ninnaly over at twitch to take part in her development, and decide her future!

*Edit: Corrected a few mistakes. cuz.. I’m a pepega.

[koeyohte]

Credence pt 5

The following week passes like most of the others.  Castor is quiet and keeps more to himself than I’d hoped he would.  He still comes to stand next to me rather than across while we wait in the hallway, but he lets me do the talking.  I ask him how he’s been and he just nods and says he’s fine.  After class, he holds the door open for me, but he doesn’t speak and he doesn’t linger or walk me outside. He just waves and turns, disappearing down the hallway on his own while I’m left standing there, trying to figure out what I’ve done.

Today was different.

He never showed up while I waited in the hall and even when the professor unlocked the door to let us in, he wasn’t there. I kept glancing back at the door from my seat in concern. One of the boys sitting behind me kept watching me and I had to pretend not to notice so I wouldn’t cast him an angry glare. Only when the professor began to take attendance did Castor come rushing in, apologizing to her in a breathy voice and hastily brushing his damp nags from his eyes as if he had just run there, before dropping quickly into a seat away from me. I feel a pang of upset by his behavior. As class continues on and he never looks at or speaks to me once, I decide to ignore him altogether.

When we’re excused, I let him follow me down the hall toward the atrium as I’m texting Sun. Castor’s been so distant, I can only imagine I’ve done something to make him uncomfortable and despite the powerful impulse to question him about it, I force myself not to, and head outside.

He follows me. Even while pretending to ignore him, I’ve noticed he’s a lot calmer than he has been in past weeks.  The nervous fidgeting is completely absent and he doesn’t seem on edge. His stride is smoother, less twitchy. I wonder if he’s received some good news or developed a better plan for his brothers.

He waits silently next to me while I’m texting my mom a last minute grocery list.  It takes me a few minutes and even when I’m done, he’s still there, gazing out across the driveway.  It’s a bit weird that he’s followed me out here without a word, but I don’t dislike his presence, no matter how frustrated I am with him.

“Hey,” I say when I realize he isn’t going anywhere. “How are you?”

He blinks down at me.  “I’m good.”

That’s better than I expected.

“That’s good. You waiting for someone?”

He pauses, then shakes his head.  I tilt mine quizzically up at him.  Was he just following me to spend time with me? It would seem contrary to how he was feeling just a few minutes ago.

“I drove today,” I tell him.  He masks it very well, but I see the way his shoulders slump a bit and his features fall just a fraction.  “I have to go to the store for groceries.”

He nods once and looks away, adjusting the strap of his pack.  Maybe it’s just me projecting, but he looks a little dejected, so I decide to try something I’ve never done.

“Do you need anything? You can come if you want. I can drive us.”

He looks quickly back at me and stares.

“That is, if you trust me,” I add, pulling my keys from my bag with an easily procured, teasing grin.  I’m pleased when he smirks and turns fully to face me.

“I do.”

I wasn’t expecting that.  I lead the way across the parking lot, scanning the shining roofs for where I parked.  I look for his car, too, but I don’t see it.

I unlock my side and then reach in to press the button for his door.  He waits patiently, like he expected me to have to let him in.  He sits down softly, making me self conscious about the way I practically throw myself into the car.  I set my bag in the back and I have to turn my body around so that I can reach.  I’m careful not to touch him when I turn around again to slide down in my seat.  I bump his shoulder anyway with my elbow and he doesn’t even flinch.  I pretend to not notice that he’s still looking at me, as I start the car.  I have to give it a little gas to make sure it actually stays running before I put it in reverse.

The grocery store is very close, so the drive is fairly short.  I’m a bit disappointed with how fast we get there.  Castor sits silently with his hands clasped neatly in his lap.  He doesn’t look uncomfortable but he does look tense.  I feel a strong urge to reach over and take his hands but, of course, I don’t.

We park a row back and I wait for him to close his door so I can lock the car.  I have my wallet and keys in hand and I notice as we’re walking that he’s tucked his own into his pockets.  I move closer to him as we cross the parking lot. I bump into his elbow a few times.

I find a cart and bring up the list on my phone.  I hope Castor doesn’t think too weirdly of me for what I’m buying.  I can see him peering over my shoulder at the list and when I look up at him, he apologizes and moves away.

“You want to read it off to me?” I ask, pressing the phone into his crossed arms.  He looks shocked that I would suggest it.

“Y… you sure?”

“You going to steal my identity while we’re in here?”

“...I might.”

“Well, you better hurry up, then. I’m fast at these grocery runs.”

The sideways smirk that flashes across Castor’s face makes my heart leap into my throat.  He runs a hand through his bangs as he begins to read down the list.

“I see olives, parchment paper, sugar, tomato sauce, paprika… what kind of cake are you making?”

I laugh, trying to imagine making anything decent out of just those few ingredients.  “You should come over sometime and find out.” I say it as a joke but as the words leave my mouth, I realize I mean them.  Castor doesn’t respond, but buries himself further into my list.

We get the first several things and make our way to the back of the store.  I’ve composed the list in order of the aisles, so I know we only have a few things left to get.  It’s cold in the back of the store, so while I’m looking for the brand of heavy cream we usually buy, I wrap my arms around myself.  I forgot I was coming here today when I dressed earlier.  I’m only wearing a romper.

“You cold?” Castor asks from behind me.

“A bit.”

He moves a little closer but doesn’t touch me.  I appreciate his gallantry and I hope the look I give him expresses it.

“Which one do you want?” he asks, moving closer.  I can feel his body heat at my back and his crossed arms brush my shoulder.  “I’ll get it for you.”

“I got it,” I assure him, breaking from guiltily imagining being in his arms.  He’s kind but I don’t want him thinking I’m taking advantage of him.  I move to open the door but he slips in between, pretends to swat at me and opens it for me.

“I insist,” he says, holding a hand out to stop me.  “C’mon, just tell me which one it is.  What do you use this stuff for, anyway?”

“I use it to make fluffy frosting.  Or pie toppings.  Oooh, it’s also really good in hot chocolate - it makes it soft and frothy.”  I lean in to check the price on two different sizes.  I go to point to the smaller one and Castor grabs it before I can even try to.

I straighten up and move forward to take it from him but he shuts the door and moves toward me at the same time.  I’m not entirely sure what happened, but I blinked and Castor’s face is inches from mine, the carton scrapes just below my neck, causing me to flinch, his hand jabs into my chest and his body is suddenly pressed against my own.

Terrified of scaring him, I back away, spluttering an apology and taking the carton from his hand.  He does something similar, waving his hands and muttering while looking anywhere else but at me.  I can see his hand that hit my chest curling into a tight fist, turning his knuckles white.

We make our way back up to the front of the store without speaking.  I don’t feel particularly flustered or even shy about what happened.  I can feel burning from a small cut on my neck where the carton scraped it but it’s trifling. Castor seems significantly more disturbed than I am.  He remains quiet, glancing worriedly at the cut, all the way until we’re back outside and loading bags into the back of my car.

He offers to take the cart back and I let him, knowing getting some space is probably what he wants.  I wait in my car for him and he slips into his seat as gently as he did the first time.  I’m in the middle of texting Sun when he clears his throat and clasps his hands together in his lap.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

I look up from my phone, bewildered by his choice of words.

“You didn’t hit me.”  I’m confused by the way he then looks at me.  It was a simple accident, and no harm came from it.  Why is he so upset?

His expression darkens rather than relaxes.  “I still hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t.  And even if you did, it was an accident.”  I lower my phone into my lap.  He still doesn’t look convinced.

“I didn’t mean to touch you, then,” he says quietly.  His eyes still haven’t left mine.  “I would never… not without asking… not like that.”

It’s my turn to look at him with a frown.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.  I’m okay, I promise.” I touch the skin at my neck where it burns. “See? No big deal.”

He just blinks, but I can see how harshly he’s rubbing his wrist in his lap, turning the skin white. “You’re bleeding.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” I add as gently as I can. “You’re okay.”

At this, he seems to experience a flood of some emotion that I don’t know the name of.  His lips grow taut and his brows are set straight but he continues to stare.  As I watch him, I realize he looks strangely close to tears.  His face is flushing and I can see him swallow several times, attempting to maintain control.

I wish more than ever that I could reach over and take his hands in mine, to offer some small comfort.  I wonder if he ever allows himself to cry when he needs to and it makes my body ache to imagine the way he’s always having to tread carefully for fear of his own safety.

“I’m not upset,” I continue, refraining from reaching out to him. I decide to try something else. “I’m okay.  I like having you with me. I’m glad you came.”

Castor finally looks away and studies something out across the parking lot.  He’s still twisting the skin around his wrist in his hand and his jaw is tight.  He’s quiet for a long several minutes and I sit silently with him in the car.  I don’t know what he needs and I’m afraid that he won’t tell me if I ask.

“You’re okay?” he asks after what feels like an age. His voice is low and hoarse. He meets my eyes hesitantly as I nod. Despite my small smile, he still looks troubled and keeps glancing at the cut on my neck.  “You sure?”

“I’m okay. I’m glad you came with me.”  I try to smile at him again. He’s looking but doesn’t return it. “Do you need to go back to campus?”

He nods.

We’re silent on the drive back. I make a few offhand comments about some birds we see, but he doesn’t engage in the conversation.  When we get back, he almost bolts to unlock the door.

“Castor,” I call after him when he gets out. He bends to look at me. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer, which surprises me. Hand on the car door, ready to shut it, he looks down at the seat for a moment, then back up. “I’m fine.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

He shakes his head. “I have to go. Thanks for the ride.”

I nod and let him leave.  I wait in my car until he’s lost in the sea of vehicles in front of me.

I’m baffled on my drive home. I don’t understand it - I wasn’t angry with him and I told him several times that I wanted him there. What could I have done to give him the impression that I was angry? What else could I do?

When I get home, I text Sun about it. I’ve told her a little about him, but she doesn’t know how I feel about him. She just knows he’s a new friend. I make sure to keep the message brief and only mention the important parts - that he bumped into me and became strangely self deprecating.

Sun gets back to me a few minutes later, asking if I know anything about his background. I’m both frustrated and impressed with her. I haven’t mentioned anything about the abusive home life he’s subjected to every day. I decide to tell her that, yes, he does come from a difficult space, but I don’t give any details.  His business isn’t mine to share, but I want to know where I went wrong.

By the end of the evening and texting back and forth, Sun thinks it’s Castor’s fear of lashing out at someone because of his background that’s making him nervous to attach to me.  In turn, he also probably fears harming those he’s close to and so even the smallest thing, like what happened at the store, triggered a greater panic response than I would have expected. He had no choice but to go back to campus with me in my car, so he likely held himself together better than if he had been alone or somewhere more familiar.

The weight of imagining what he must feel is crushing.  I feel overwhelmed by grief and worry over him. I pick up my phone and begin to text him several times, but I always delete it and set the phone back down. I get ready for bed, change into my nightshirt and crawl under the covers. I plug my phone in and decide to try writing something one more time. I send Sun a good night text and then start typing something to Castor.

Hey, I hope you’re doing ok. I really liked having your company today and I hope we can do it again soon.

I hit send before I can chicken out again and lay there in a panic, worrying that I overstepped another boundary again.  I guess it doesn’t really matter - he can ignore me and I’ll understand that he needs to be left alone.

I’m still waiting for sleep when my phone’s screen lights up. I really don’t want to check it in case it’s something I don’t want to see, but I also can’t stop myself from reaching out to grab it. My heart’s racing when I turn the screen toward me and it leaps into my throat when I see it’s from him.

Hey Matilda. Thanks for messaging. I had a nice time with you today. I have a lot going on and I don't know how to explain it all. I’m not used to having someone I can trust but I’m trying. I’m sorry about my behavior. It’s nothing you’ve done. You’ve been very kind and patient with me. I'm not used to that but it's no excuse. I hope you can forgive me and give me another chance.

I feel both sad and relieved. So, Sun was right. I don’t know what to reply back with, but I try to keep it short and amicable.

I’d love to give you another chance whenever you’re ready (:

It sounds a little more definitive than I think it really should be, but perhaps in my sleepy head fog, I don’t mind taking the extra leap tonight. I hit send and lay back down, feeling much more relaxed. I don’t hear any response as I drift away to sleep.

[ryik-the-writer]

Rumbelle Fic: Marinara on Main (6/?)

A03

Has it really been a year since I updated this? Damn I suck XD

-,-,-,-,-,-

The one week of mandatory recovery and therapy had to be the slowest and most boring time of Belle’s life.

Sure there were some interesting moments, like when Jefferson brought his daughter Grace over to paint her toenails (sparkly and messy but still appreciated) and she cried from being able to feel the tickling of the brush. Or when Will snuck a bag of plastic stars from the children’s ward and glued them to the ceiling above her bed. It was a much better site than the blasé roof, even if she did get a few curious looks from the nurses.

Merlin did his best to stop by between his breaks, but he helping Moe carry the business while she was out of commission. She swore if she ever came across a hefty inheritance from a distant mysterious relative, she’d sign it away to him. Well, maybe two thirds of it. Girl had to pay her bills after all.

Her most consistent visits were from her father, who had reluctantly come around to Belle temporarily moving in with Mr. Gold, and Mr. Gold himself.

Moe French would spend roughly an hour at Belle’s bedside, usually texting Merlin with status updates on the business or what things to pack up for Belle. It was quiet and Belle saw his eyes maybe twice, but it wasn’t as tense as it could have been and he always kissed her goodbye.

Mr. Gold’s visits were much more pleasant. He would roll into the room as soon as Moe left, carrying with him some kind of treat his right-hand man Dove would smuggle in to share. Sometimes, if his medicine didn’t have him too lightheaded, and if she wasn’t too exhausted from physical therapy, he’d read whatever magazines the waiting room had on hand. She particularly liked the cooking magazines.

“Okay, read the strawberry tart recipe again.” Belle requested, slowing jotting down the ingredients. She had begun to regain movement in her limbs on her second day, and with a little help from the nurses, she could sit up in bed. Walking was still a challenge, but Dr. Whale was lending her a walker to assist her until she was healed enough to walk on her own.

Mr. Gold chuckled at her enthusiasm, flipping the page back. “You do know I can just rip them out, right?”

“Don’t you dare!” Belle gasped.

Mr. Gold shook his head in amusement. “1¼ cups of flour…”

Belle watched him in appreciation. He was able to open his black eye now, and most of his stitches had been removed. The only noticeable proof of last week’s catastrophe was the scabbed indention above his eye that would soon become a scar. Despite the horrible way he had received it, Belle couldn’t help but thing he’d look rather handsome with a few rustic scars.

A knock on the door cut Mr. Gold off from his reading. He and Belle turned to see Dr. Whale smiling at them.

“Yes?” Gold growled.

The doctor stiffened and flipped through his clipboard. “You and Miss French will be ready to check out this afternoon.”

“Bloody brilliant!” Mr. Gold exclaimed as he rolled closer to the doctor. “I’ll take the release forms now.”

“In a moment. I have to read you a few check-out policies, procedure you know.”

“Oh for the love of…” Mr. Gold held his tongue, not wanting to stress Belle or lose his temper in front of her.

“Could I at least start filling them out? I promise I won’t let him leave.” Belle negotiated, amused.

The doctor looked back and forth between the couple before sighing and handing Mr. Gold the forms.

“Please don’t make me lose my license.”

“I never make promises, only deals.” Mr. Gold replied, rolling backwards to Belle’s bedside. He was becoming too skilled in a wheelchair and needed to leave as soon as possible.

“Don’t be cruel, he’s only doing his job.” Belle chastised Mr. Gold as soon as the doctor left.

Gold leveled the clipboard and started filling out the papers with a mutter of irritation.

Belle only laughed. If she was going to be living with him for an unspecific amount of time, she’d have to get used to his bouts of playful pouting. It was amazing to think that they hadn’t been dating long at all, and unofficially moving in together would undoubtedly bring out some of their more unappealing traits.

Within the hour, Belle and Mr. Gold were being rolled out the hospital. Mr. Gold was swearing at the tight-lipped, stern nurse that he could “bloody well walk with his cane”.

“Hospital policy.” The nurse barked, all but dumping him in the drop-off zone. Mr. Gold jumped from the chair, growling as he steadied himself on his cane and limped to Belle’s side.

“The nerve.” He huffed, hiding a grin when Belle laughed into her hand.

“Are you sure you should be walking?” Belle inquired, nodding to his heavily bandaged leg underneath his expensive pants leg. Dr. Whale had insisted they dress comfortably until their injuries healed, yet Mr. Gold was dressed to the t’s in his nice clothes why Belle had swung for a gently worn sundress.

“I’m fine, really.” Mr. Gold assured, though he leaned more heavily on his cane. “I sprained it more than anything. None of the screws were bent in anyway. I won’t even need therapy.”

Belle nodded and looked down guiltily. She felt Gold tuck her hair back and kiss the edge of her ear, the effort causing him to shake.

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

Belle smiled, picking up the hand resting on the back of the wheelchair and giving it kiss. “My hero. But, you really should sit down.”

Mr. Gold pulled his discarded wheelchair closer to Belle and sat down with a relieved grumble.

Conversation seized between them and in no time, they watched in surprise as Mr. Gold’s Cadillac pulled around the drop-off zone.

“How…” Belle gasped when it rolled in more closely. Other than the slightly discolored grill, it looked exactly as it had before the accident.

“Billy the mechanic owed me a favor.” Mr. Gold shrugged. “He did a lot better than I thought he would.”

Belle nodded as a tall man, presumably Dove, stepped from the driver’s seat. Belle had only seen him a few times during her deliveries but had never had the opportunity to speak to him more personally.

“Mr. Gold,” he nodded professionally, turning a light smile down to Belle. “Miss French.”

“Hello.” Belle smiled back, his tall height along with her wheelchair sitting causing her head to spin.

Mr. Gold stood from the chair and stepped over to the car, intending to be a gentleman and open the back door. However, he found the back seat occupied by none other than his son.

“Baelfire.” Gold greeted sternly. “Is there an early release day I forgot about or are you skipping school?”

“Let’s go with the first one.” Bae smirked as he slid from the back. “You look good for a guy who nearly got wrapped around a tree.”

“Not funny.” He growled, motioning him to stand aside so that Belle could slide in.

She took Gold’s hand as Dove released her into Gold’s grip. She felt stiff from the effort, but more embarrassed that it took three people to get her into a car. She hoped she could be more independent during her stay at Gold’s. She refused to be a burden to anyone, especially her somewhat-boyfriend and his son.

“I should probably sit in the back with Miss Belle.” Bae whispered. “Wouldn’t want you two to get too excited while you’re in recovery.”

Belle bit back a giggled while Mr. Gold’s face erupted in flame.

“One more crack like that and I’m going to un-overlook you playing hooky today.” He warned, not meeting Belle’s eyes as he crawled into the front seat.

The ride was quiet and slow, and Belle was thankful to see the outside world. Her stomach flopped a bit when they eased into the driveway of the salmon mansion. Before her and Mr. Gold’s relationship—or what any rational person would call it—began, she used to be so excited and giddy at the thought of a few stolen seconds with him. As soon as the pizza was out of her hands, they were just Belle and Mr. Gold, not pizza delivery girl and customer.

Now they were going to be temporary roommates, and while some women would see that scenario as an erotic fantasy come to life, Belle couldn’t help but feel sickeningly nervous.

“It feels strange pulling up without a pizza in my hands.” Belle smirked, hoping humor would lift her mood.

Luckily, Mr. Gold chuckled and sent her a gentle smile through the rearview mirror.

“Speaking of pizza, do you think we could still order one tonight?” Baelfire inquired. “It is Friday after all.”

A tense air filled the car, and Mr. Gold could see Belle’s nails digging into the leather seating. Belle’s father nor Merlin had told her what they were doing about deliveries, but judging by how stressed they both were (yes, Belle could tell no matter how much they tried to hide it), probably not very good.

“Miss French.”

Belle looked up to find Dove standing over her, offering his hand with a gentle smile.

Dove helped her sit on the edge of the seat while he grabbed her walker from the trunk. Belle felt so embarrassed to have to use it but noted to herself to count her blessings that she hadn’t been paralyzed in the crash. She’d only have to use it for a few weeks, and would be back to rolling pizza dough in a month, give or take. She hoped to move the process up a bit, hoped she could push herself to make a miraculous recovery.

“Mr. Knight dropped a bag off this morning.” Dove stated as he helped her get a grip on her walker.

“Yes, my father mentioned he would yesterday.” Belle said with a hiss.

Mr. Gold seethed as he tried to get out of the car by himself, his leg screaming in protest. It was time for more of his pain meds and that would mean an early night, the last thing he wanted with Belle’s first night in his home.

Baelfire stood beside his father and watched Dove escort Belle into the house, her bag in his opposite hand.

“What’s with the frown?” Baelfire smirked. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Gold glared at his son. “Of course not. Don’t you have homework?”

“It’s Friday.” Bae reminded him as he swayed to the house. “And I’m ordering pizza.”

“Fine.” Gold agreed with a sigh. He was so tired he would probably sign over the deed to the house if Bae asked for it. “I’ll send Dove to pick it up.”

Bae turned, confused. “Why can’t we have it delivered?”

“Just…I don’t know about their delivery status right now.” Gold sighed as he limped into the house. “Just go with Dove, alright?”

Bae sighed, sensing that there was more to the story decided to push for details on an empty stomach. “Fine.”

Gold looked around the corner, nodding in approval at how the furniture had been moved. The room he had Belle set up in was more of a small parlor connected to the downstairs bathroom. He had been meaning to take out the wall that separated the room and the living room but was not glad he had put it off.

He stepped into the room to find down waiting by the bathroom door.

“She’s changing.” Dove stated simply.

Gold nodded. “I owe you a great debt for all you’ve done.”

Dove shrugged. “I’ll remember that the next time my nephew’s soccer team sells chocolate bars.”

Mr. Gold chuckled, his breath stilling when the bathroom door opened and Belle stepped out. She wore a loose pair of men’s pajamas, the little pocket on the shirt ripped in the middle. Her feet were bare and her hair mused, and she had forgone the walker to take on the short space.

She looked absolutely stunning.

“Comfortable?” he teased.

“My limbs feel like noodles. I feel great.” she laughed, using Dove’s offered hand to help her sit on the bed.

“Bae wanted to pick up pizza for dinner, is that okay with you?”

Belle smiled sheepishly, tucking her curls behind her ear. “I just took a pain pill…”

“Say no more.” Gold smiled.

“Sorry.”

“Not at all, I think I may follow suit.”

Belle nodded, the pill kicking in faster than she thought it would.

“I’ll…check on you later?” Gold suggested.

“I’d like that.” Belle said drowsily, carefully curling her legs onto the bed.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her until Dove closed the door.

“This is going to be an interesting few weeks.” Dove said, the teasing nature of his voice a earning him a glare from his employer.

“I’m going to take a pill.” Gold growled.

-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

When Belle opened her eyes again, it was dark outside and her head was swimming. She groggily felt on the nightstand for her phone. She blinked the itchy tears away until her eyes adjusted to the light. 2:11 a.m. Damn, she had slept the whole day!

Belle groaned, wishing she would fall right back to sleep. However, she was wide awake now, and her back was cramping. She needed to walk around, maybe get a snack from the kitchen. She hadn’t eaten since her barely passable breakfast at the hospital.

Her muscles cramped as she sat up, her lungs feeling smaller. She took several deep breaths before she reached for her walker.

She did her best to enter the kitchen quietly, which was hard to do with a clunky walker loudly tapping on the hardwood. After some hassling she found the light switch and was immediately floored with awe at the site of Gold’s antique kitchen.

A large, stainless steel refrigerator purred near the back door while several cooking tools awaited silently to be used. Her kitchen apartment above French Bread could probably fit in this kitchen, and she bet all the eyes on the stove worked as well.

With renewed excitement she limped to the pantry and searched its contents. She hummed, noting a packet of yeast on the top. Gripping the walker with one hand, she stretched on her toes to reach the things she needed, hissing as her back cramped from the effort.

“Need a hand with that?”

Belle twisted around, grabbing her walker before she could fall.

Baelfire hissed. “Sorry.”

“No it’s fine.” Belle gasped, stepping aside. He was just about her height, maybe a few inches shorter than his father, but he reached the yeast packet with less effort than she had.

“Thanks.” Belle smiled. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Bae assured, leaning on the counter. “My sleep cycle’s been off this week with Dad in the hospital.”

Belle looked at the teen, his curly hair disrupted from restless sleep, the color under his eyes too dark for a boy his age.

“So whatcha making?” Bae inquired, smiling brightly despite the later hour.

“Don’t laugh, but I was going to make pizza. But if you want something else…”

“No, pizza sounds great. The one I ordered earlier was…I don’t know, bland?”

Belle chuckled. “Dad must have made the sauce. It’s his recipe but he never makes it right.”

Bae chuckled. “Is everything you guys make your dad’s creation?”

Belle shrugged as she scooped flour out of the properly labeled container on the counter. “Technically yes, but Merlin and I add our own flair to each thing we cook. The recipe’s always different each time, but there’s always a few ingredients that never change.” She said with a wink.

Bae nodded. “Anything I can do to help?”

Belle hummed. “Do you have a food processor?”

Bae nodded and opened one of the cabinets, pulling the processor out with ease.

“Great. Get out what you want on the pizza. Do we have enough cheese?”

Bae pulled a pile of things from the refrigerator, including a nearly empty bag of shredded mozzarella.

Belle surveyed what else he had brought out and nodded as she put a recipe together in her head.

“How fresh is that cream?”

Bae bravely opened the carton and smelled the dairy substance, sighing with relief when he didn’t smell anything sour.

“Great, find me a pan and some butter and we can make alfredo pizza.”

“Sweet!” Bae cheered, obeying Belle’s instructions.

Soon enough the teen was helping her chop chicken and kneed pizza dough, chuckling when she flicked flour in his curls.

“This is great.” Bae said as Belle sprinkled oregano on the pizza. “I’ve been living off diner food and cereal all week. I never though I’d miss home cooking so much.”

Belle paused in her pizza-making, her eyes looking over his lanky frame.

“Baelfire I’m…I’m sorry about all of this.”

Bae looked around the kitchen, confused. “The flour will come off the counters.”

Belle scoffed. “No, I mean for the accident. For borrowing your dad’s car. For his injury. Everything.”

Bae stared at her, unsure what he could say to make her feel better. Whenever he and Emma fought she would just punch him in the arm and everything would be fine afterwards. Hitting her, even playfully, did not look like a good idea in her condition.

“Really, Belle, it’s fine.” Bae assured awkwardly. “It’s not like you’re a crazy girlfriend who crashed my dad’s car to keep him to yourself.”

Belle laughed at the idea, turning to put the pizza in the oven.  

“I mean, I guess I was a little mad at first, but I got over it. My dad really likes you, and spending these last few weeks with you has made him happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. I’m sure there was no lost love being in the hospital with you, even if you were doped up half the time.”

Belle chuckled. “A third of the time, actually. Between you and me though, your dad’s a real lightweight.”

Bae snorted. “I bet. And while we’re dropping secrets, that bit about me living off of diner food was a white lie. Emma brought me some of her mom’s cooking to keep me going.”

“Ah, and I bet she made you dessert afterwards.” Belle teased.

Bae’s blush was as read as pizza sauce. “Well…”

“Unless you want to be grounded until you graduate, I suggest you not answer that.”

Belle and Baelfire both turned around to find Gold leaning against the doorframe, eyeing the messy countertops and his flour-dusted son with amusement.

“Bit late for a midnight snack, isn’t it?” he teased, limping in.

“More like too early.” Belle said. “It’s just after three.”

“Indeed. Smells good whatever it is.”

“Chicken alfredo pizza, enough for three.” Belle blushed as he took the seat beside her. This was the first time she had seen him wearing anything but a three-piece suit. It was almost an honor, seeing a piece of him that no one but his son had seen.

“Excellent.” he smiled, turning to his son, dusting some of the flour out of his hair. “Glad to see you’re taking up a trade, m’boy.”

“Yep,” Belle teased. “I’ll have him trained as a sous chef in no time.

Bae rolled his eyes as he went to check on the pizza. Adults were so weird.

In no time the pizza was sliced and passed around, conversation and napkins flowing easily. It was domestic if not unique scene considering the late hour. Unbeknownst to each participant, there was a mutual want to make the event—both the living arrangements and late-night pizza-making, mind you—much more permanent.

[landonho1993]

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[uci-fanfic-requests]

Could I request some cute Kirika/Rokkaku like maybe they're out on a date or hanging out oh and can I add that I headcanon that Kirika is pretty strong so maybe rokkaku gets slightly injured from something and Kirika has to carry him and he's slightly embarrassed but also admiring but doesn't want to admit it (i mean she's a like a monster how could she not be strong :P) aw gee I said too much sorry!!! *hides*

Admin Notes: Strong Kirika is a good Kirika! I can totally picture her with Rokkaku in her arms bridal style with this face of pure proudness, meanwhile Rokkaku is trying not to cry because “wow, she is so amazing?” and “I am so lucky”.  -Admin Hirahara

On Rokkaku’s days off, and they were very rare, he found himself with Kirika, going to the park, shopping for food, visiting a restaurant… And today, the two found themselves in the market. It was a very big occasion, after all – or at least, Kirika said it was. Rokkaku couldn’t figure out what it was, though, but he figured that she’d tell him eventually. “I was thinking… of making a sushi banquet tonight!” she had said before they left. “So we’ll need lots of seafood and rice!”

Rokkaku left most of the choosing and shopping to Kirika, only assisting her in carrying the bags. Reason being, he didn’t actually know what kind of things she wanted to cook, and to be honest, he didn’t go to the market place very often. Today, in particular, he felt that it wasn’t a great place to be. The loud noises, the array of visitors, and the strange smells… to be honest, he was getting a headache. Which was rare in it of itself, as the captain usuallynever got headaches. However, whenever Kirika looked over and pointed out something she thought the kids might like, Rokkaku smiled and nodded like it wasn’t a big deal.

They went to about three stalls before Kirika finally settled on getting a gigantic cut of tuna, explaining to Rokkaku (just in case) that this one definitely looked the freshest. It was wrapped and bagged, and the bag was handed to the captain. He was already holding three other bags – one had an octopus, another had rice, and Rokkaku wasalmost certain that the other had shrimp – but he didn’t mind carrying another. “Thanks for carrying everything,” Kirika smiled. “Usually I can do it myself.”

“It’s no trouble,” Rokkaku smiled, although for some reason his head was feeling foggy again. “Anything else you need?” He shook the feeling off, thinking that once they got back to the manor, it just meant he might need something to smoke.

“Probably…” Kirika thought. “Eggs. And some vegetables.” She led him to another stall with fresh vegetables, Rokkaku admiring how she bartered the prices until she got the best value. A huge basket was handed to her, which she debated giving to Rokkaku because he was already holding a lot of things. Rokkaku, however, took it from her hands, meaning that he didn’t really mind.

“You ought to let me carry something,” Kirika pouted, although not in an angry way. They finally got the eggs and were heading out of the market when Rokkaku’s head started pounding again.Maybe I should have brought my pipe… he thought, once again, assuming he justreally needed a smoke. Kirika was starting to catch on, too, and slowed her step to keep up with the captain.

“Sorry,” Rokkaku smiled, putting a hand to his head. “My head’s just been hurting.”

“Well!” Kirika exclaimed, nodding her head. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, lately. You’re probably really tired.” She smiled, rolling up her sleeves. “Don’t worry! Auntie’s got this!” With that, she easily lifted Rokkaku off the ground and into her arms, bridal style. The captain was so surprised, he nearly dropped the groceries. “Okay, let’s go back to the manor,” she smiled, picking up her pace. She didn’t even look like she was struggling, instead, she seemed to be having fun.

“Kirika…” Rokkaku started, feeling his face heat up. “You can… put me down. I can walk.”

“Nope~” Kirika smiled, continuing along and ignoring the looks they were getting. “You need to rest, so no more walking for you.”She’s… really amazing, Rokkaku thought, although he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. “This reminds me,” Kirika chuckled, clearly thinking about something entertaining. “Today’s the anniversary of my first day at the manor.”

So that’s the special occasion, Rokkaku thought, thinking that it was indeed a thing to celebrate. “Remember? I was rushing around the kitchen so much, I tripped but you caught me like this? I’m returning the favor!” She laughed, continuing home with ease while Rokkaku was both very impressed and utterly embarrassed in her arms.

—

“Is Auntie back yet?” Hirahara complained from the couch of the break room. “I’m getting hungry…”

“She and Rokkaku-san should be coming back soon,” Saeki promised, and just as he said this, they heard the door open.

“We’re back!” They heard the snake woman call from the front door. As she passed by the break room, the escorts noticed that she was carrying Rokkaku, who was covering his face with his hands, in her arms. “I have really good ingredients for sushi, so just wait and I’ll cook it up!” She hurried off to the kitchen. The escorts just stared at the door, not sure exactly what to make of the scene.

“So we’re… going to eat Rokkaku-san…?” Kirishima squinted, this being the only thing he could make of the situation. Since that definitely couldn’t have been the case, the escorts just forgot they saw anything and went back to whatever it was they were doing.

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 8, Ch. 9

PART 8: WHERE IT ALL ENDS

Chapter 9 - The Invitation

Charlie

1 year later...

“Easy there, boy!” I held up my hand at the Swedish Short-Snout, my wand ready in the other one. “We talked about this, Thor. One day without breathing fire at me and we'll call it progress.”

I started working with Thor again last month. I have to admit I needed quite some time to even go and see him. He was the one that burnt Nova and even though I knew it wasn't his fault and he was in pain, I made the mistake of blaming him.

—

After more than a year of her being gone, I think it's safe to say I am getting back on my feet. As much as I can, anyway. I am regularly corresponding with all my family as I promised Bill on his last visit. Nobody talks about my feelings or how am I feeling anymore and I am grateful for that. Things are back to normal.

That doesn't mean that I forgot about her. That I don't miss her. That I don't think about her because I do. Every. Single. Day. But it's easier than it was, I have to admit. It's bearable now. And between how busy we are in the Sanctuary, me working for the Order and recruiting new Wizards, and listening to the Wireless about people going missing every day, I think it's safe to say I am doing okay.

I got used to coming home to an empty house. Pip is in a better mood as well and he is keeping me company when he's not out delivering letters. I started talking to my co-workers again and I have to say that it has been one of the best decisions. They make me feel less lonely.

I am also sleeping better. There are still nights when I wake up to Nova screaming or from a nightmare, reliving what happened but it's getting rarer and I am so happy about that.

It might sound harsh but Bill was right when he said that the tragedy that happened here that night made so many Wizards wanting to join. We get new letters and recruits daily.

So many who I've known have died or been murdered that I have to say I am getting used to it, no matter how it sounds. Everything is getting more serious with every new day and we have to be prepared for the worst. I am just happy to hear my family and friends are okay. That's all I can ask for after what happened over a year ago.

I try to think of the whole thing from a positive note. Nova was such a loved person and when I try to get someone to fight for our cause they mostly join because of her. She had so many connections but nothing we did ever worked when we tried getting people on our side while she was alive.

Death does bring people closer together and if they needed a reason to see that this is everyone's fight, I have come to terms with it that the attack needed to happen.

I am not going to deny that I would leave everything behind if it meant she could come back but no matter how I beat myself about it or how guilty I feel, it won't bring her back. I can be as content with what happened as I possibly can be. I promised her I will continue doing what I love and I came so far, even with Thor.

I also promised her to be happy but as much as I am trying, I still feel the burden of her death on my shoulders. I still think it should have been me and I will never be as happy as I was with her no matter how much I laugh at my co-worker’s stupid jokes. It's simply not the same and I know it never will be but I don't mind.

I came to the conclusion that I was lucky to get to experience what I had with her. Not many people do and some search their entire life for it. I had it, even though it was cut short, I can't complain. Before I met her, I knew what I wanted to do with my life and if I can't be with her, I can at least do what I love and that counts for something.

It helps if I try to stay as positive as I can. So many things remind me of her that it's hard to keep my mind off her. But instead of being miserable about it, I try to look on the bright side.

Just yesterday, I was having dinner with Andrei and some of the others and we started debating whether Norbet is a he or a she.

He has been acting strange for years now and Nova was the first to bet that he is actually Norberta. We can't do a gender check-up on him because he is too vicious which only proves that she was right. When Andrei asked what we are going to name him I said that we should call him Norberta as Nova called him the first time she observed that he might be a female.

It used to pain me thinking of things she liked and did and I couldn't even imagine doing something like that a year ago but I am pushing myself to try harder. I promised her I will be happy and I am trying to do my best to make her proud.

—

“There you go!” I beamed as I levitated a steak in front of him and he didn't try to kill me before eating it. Thor has been hurt more than any other Dragon in the Sanctuary when the Death Eaters attacked us and he has been having trust issues ever since. Who could blame him really, I was just glad he was okay. It took the Healers months before they mended all his wounds and his left leg is still not completely healed and perhaps it never will be.

“You're a good boy, Thor!” He breathed smoke out of his nostrils and I knew he was proud of himself even though he probably wanted to eat me for dinner.

“Steaks taste good, Charlie tastes bad.” I laughed at my joke, knowing full well I was talking to a Dragon.

“Charlie, there you are!” I stepped backward, carefully, and turned around to see Andrei panting. “We have been looking all over for you! I thought you were with Arto today.” He tried his best to catch his breath.

“I decided to give Thor another chance at keeping me alive.” I smiled.

“At least you're wearing your protective gear this time.” I looked behind Andrei and saw my brother step cautiously from behind a boulder.

“Bill!” I walked to him and gave him a hug. “What a surprise! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” I frowned, suddenly remembering that we are at war.

“Everything's fine.” He grinned, showing his white teeth. “I was just in the neighborhood and decided to visit you.”

“In the neighborhood, huh?” I crossed my arms on my chest and lifted my eyebrows in disbelief. He was a bad liar and even worst at making jokes.

“I'll tell you everything when you're done.” He beamed at me. He looked like he couldn't wait to talk to me about something and he looked so happy. Well, he looked like that most of the time since he met this girl Fleur at work.

Bill, Andrei, and I made our way down to the village and we said goodbye to my boss.

“Want to grab something to eat or want me to cook for you?” I winked at him.

“What put you in a good enough mood to cook?” He asked surprised. I rarely did. It's not the same if you have to cook only for one person. The only time I ever really put the effort in was when it was my day off and I made pancakes for myself.

Nova and I ate pancakes for breakfast every time we had a free day. It became our tradition and it was the one thing that I could keep going.

“Thor, the Dragon you just saw, didn't try to eat me today instead of his steak for the first time since we were attacked.” I said proudly.

“Wow, what an achievement.” Bill laughed, trying to understand my situation.

“And he didn't try to burn me alive, another first!” I continued. I knew he couldn't understand how big this was as I never understood what all the treasure he kept describing in his letters was worth.

“I'm glad you're alive, brother.” He tapped my back as we stopped in front of my cottage, me unlocking the door.

“So what delicious meal will I be served today?” He mocked.

“Steak or meat pie?” I scanned my fridge for ingredients.

“Steak!” I laughed at his enthusiasm.

“I was hoping you would say that. It's easier to make.” I grinned.

“How are you, Charlie?” I winced at his question. I was doing okay but I still didn't like it because I never knew what the question was going to lead to. Bill was the only one I talked and wrote about Nova. I was happy when he came to visit me last year when I completely shut myself away from everybody. I might be corresponding with all my family and friends again, but I only share my feelings and thoughts with Bill.

“I'm fine. Pretty busy this time of year.” I took a frying pan out of one of my counters and a pot to cook the vegetables. “We're getting another Welsh Green tomorrow and our Chinese Fireball's eggs are hatching any day now!” I heard Bill chuckle at my excitement. He was the only one I could talk to about this, besides Tonks. They were the ones who didn't look at me like I was mental when I talked about Dragons as if they were baby Crups.

“I wish I could stay.” Bill said while pouring some Firewhiskey in the glass I gave him. “I would love to see baby Dragons hatch.”

“If you're prepared to stay awake day and night and keep your eyes on 3 crimson eggs for 8 hours straight, be my guest.” I laughed and poured myself a glass as well while waiting for the pan to heat up. There was something about Muggle cooking that I found soothing and I burnt fewer things than if I were to use magic.

“On the second thought, just send me a picture, will you.” We both laughed.

“How are you, Bill? How is Fleur?” I teased him. Nothing made me happier than seeing him blush whenever I mentioned her name.

“I'm good. Great actually.” He cleared his throat. “She's the reason I'm here today.” He looked like he was going to explode from excitement any moment now.

“Oh, Bill. You didn't come here for love advice, did you?” I frowned. “Because I am the last person to give you advice on that.”

“No.” He grinned. “But I am here to ask you something.” His smile grew even larger.

“Well spit it out, will you!” I quickly put the steak in the saucepan and sat back next to him. My head leaning on my hands, staring at him. At this point, I reminded myself of Penny who used to stare at us whenever one of us was about to tell the others a secret.

“I asked Fleur to marry me.” He said, shyly.

“I think my heart just skipped a beat!” I said and stood up. “This is the best news I have heard in a while!” I pulled him into a hug. Nova was right, he was going to find someone just right for him.

“At least someone's excited.” He sighed. “Mum's reaction wasn't even close to yours.”

“She'll warm up to her.” I tapped his shoulder in reassurance and then went to check on the steak and turned off the boiling water with vegetables.

“Yeah. She thinks we are rushing it with everything that's going on.” He rolled his eyes.

“Bill, I think you're old enough to make your own decisions.” I turned the steak around.

“Tell that to her.” He laughed. “I know she's the right one for me, Charlie. I have never felt this way about anyone.” I glanced at him and seeing his cheeks match his hair was simply adorable. Nova would've loved teasing him.

“She will see how happy you two are and she'll come around.” I brought the plate with food to him. “And besides...” I put the second one into the pan. “When did mum ever stop you from doing something?” He laughed at my question.

“Whatever do you mean, Charlie?” He looked amused.

“Piercing your ear, letting your hair grow out, becoming a Curse Breaker, wearing nothing but leather...” I looked down at his boots.

“Don't give me that judgemental look, get over the fact that I have Dragonhide boots!” He rolled his eyes playfully at me.

“I don't judge your look.” I lifted my hands in my defense. “But those...” I shook my head, looking at his feet again. If I was close enough he would've punched me in my arm.

“So what did you come here to ask me?” I said when I finally sat down, placing my plate in front of me. I cut my steak, waiting for him to stop chewing so he could speak.

“I want you to be my best man.” He said so quickly that I needed a second to realize what he just asked me. I looked at him and he looked nervous. I hated the fact that he did, I knew exactly what was going through his mind.

“I don't know how you feel about this, giving the fact that you asked me first and then...you know...” He started blabbering. “But I can't imagine anyone else standing by my side on my wedding day and if it wouldn't be too much for...”

“Oh, shut it, Bill.” I stood up and hugged him so tightly that he couldn't continue speaking. “I would be honored.” I tapped him twice on the back and pulled away.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking a bit less worried.

“Yes. Just because I didn't have a happy ending doesn't mean I am going to be bitter about someone else's. Especially yours!” I pointed my fork at him. “So stop blabbering like a baboon and eat your steak!”

“You sound just like mum.” He laughed and couldn't help but join him.

It was great having him here. I missed my family and now more than ever it wasn't safe for me to go home and visit. I was glad I will be able to see everyone at his wedding and I was nothing but excited for them to get married.

I already met Fleur. I visited Bill a few months after they started dating and when she came into his office, he introduced us. She was so polite and as nice as I remembered her from the first Triwizard Tournament task. I thought they looked fantastic together and seeing Bill happy and looking at her, being so in love, how could I not be excited for them.

I didn't care what mum thought about them getting married so soon. I just wanted him to be happy and in these uncertain times, who wouldn't want to celebrate love. Seeing him exchange vows with Fleur and seeing all my other siblings be happy and in love was my purpose now. I can be the fun uncle in the family, everyone knows I have the best sense of humor anyway.

Sometimes, I surprised myself how okay I was with everything after such a short amount of time. But I have made my peace with what happened to me and knowing I can't do anything about it, I can at least be supportive of others. I know how it feels to be loved unconditionally and I hope all my siblings get to experience that.

Just because I don't have it anymore, doesn't mean I have to be angry about it. I would never try to ruin that for anybody else. It's beautiful and I am grateful I have the memories of it and I am trying as hard as I can to keep them alive. It's all I have and all I will ever need. I have amazing family and friends and my dream job and that's enough for me now.

[darkhymns-fic]

Murder with a Side of Lies (Ch. 8)

A discarded notepad sits on the table, crinkled and stained with ketchup...

It doesn't belong here.

Fandom: Undertale Characters: Sans, Flowey Rating: PG Chapters: 8/8 Mirror Links: AO3, FF.net Notes: The sequel to Kidnappings in the Early Evening by Sky. A fusion of detective noir fiction and courtroom drama! All stories, art, etc., related to this main story will be under the tag #undertale noir. (chrono)

Suggested reading music and some rain...

First Chapter Previous Chapter

[Chapter Missing]

 nice. free notepad. paps must have forgotten it. finders keepers

 butts.

  hehehheh. butt butt butt. my favorite pie is buttspie with lots of butter.

 What did one wave say to the other?

Nothin’ he just waved.

What did the grape say when he got stepped on?

Nothin’ he just whined.

i should probably have someone actually say something for these jokes to be a bit more effective, huh? nah.

 What’s a mummy’s favorite music genre?

Mummy wrap.

heh. heh. that one’s really really bad aint it. that’s a keeper.

 some reason i get the urge to write more than just bad jokes here. like I wanna say more. that’d be weird tho, wouldn’t it?

heh, and i aint weird.

 What did the flower say when his house caught on fire?

Nothin’, he made like a tree and leafed.

Why did the flower need a job?

He was dirt poor.

Why was the flower feelin’ so blue?

Can’t find the root of the problem there.

 really got flowers on the mind, don’t i? wonder why that could be.

 you know, it’s strange. i keep coming back to this notepad even though my mind says why bother. what’s the point in writing down what I see or feel? not like anyone’s gonna read this, heh.

but why not. let’s give it a go. i’m interested, for whatever reason.

 i’m sittin’ here at tori’s bakery shop. it’s raining outside, like always. got a plate of that butts pie im so fond of. it’s good, but(t) could use more butts. table I’m sitting at is uhhh… looks like a table. yep, sturdy. round? It’s round. that’s how these things go. you describe all the stuff here, right?

it’s pretty late here. no one’s around at this time of night. tori’s nice enough to let me hang out after closing and feed me the leftovers she didn’t sell, and I’m cheap enough to take ‘em. she really goats me, i guess.

usually tori would be swappin’ bad jokes with me right now, but she’s been pretty busy since that trial ended. turns out, no one was willing to take over the family’s duties after ol’ gorey got sent away. Not even fish face. kinda expected her to take over. guess she’s too busy playin’ detective with my bro.

tori, bein’ the nice lady she is, decided she’d take up leadership. probably for the best. if anyone can manage building homes for the poor and being generally kind to all us monsters, it’s her. i certainly don’t know what bein’ the leader entails, and im not exactly rarin’ to find out.

although, between you and me, it does get a bit more boring in the shop without her around. oh well. guess that’s why im writing this, isn’t it?

it’s so boring, i don’t think I even have anything left to write. dang. guess i’ll just go back to writing bad jokes.

 Why didn’t the Flower eat chloroform?

He was chlorofull.

 heh. really havin’ a bad time tryin’ to think of something other than flowers.

 maybe it’s cuz I’ve been thinking about my good pal, flowey, a lot lately. can’t blame a guy, can you? tori literally has him on her person at all times.

  Well. Most of the times.

 I don’t think Tori knows it, but that little scamp escapes sometimes when she’s not lookin’. Heh, but it’s not like he’d get into any trouble, now would he? No, no, that doesn’t sound like the good natured Flowey I know. His parents would never allow him to get into any trouble.

His parents would probably protect him from anything. Even though he didn’t see ol’ Gorey much, I get the feeling Flowey’s dad really cared about him…and I mean really cared for him.

I shouldn’t be gossiping. But, it’s not like anyone is going to read this anyway, right? There’s nothing wrong with writing down some of my own little speculations. Just a hypothesis, is all.

Now, while I’m sure Gorey was quite the nice guy, he did some awful things. Maybe he did them because he thought they were right. Maybe he did those things knowing it was wrong, but believed it was for a good cause. Honestly, can’t say I blame him all that much either way.

This leads us back to the trial, though. Boy, that trial was objectively a good time. I’m so proud of my bro. He proved me wrong a number of times. If it weren’t for him and fish sticks, I probably would have sent an innocent person away.

Instead, I sent a not-quite-innocent person away.

Heh. heh. Tori had me promise I’d be a fair judge. A good judge. She told me to take it seriously, don’t mess around, don’t favor anyone. Me, like the bonehead I am, I promised her I would.

Why do I keep making promises I know I’m just going to break?

Oh. Spoilers, I guess. I broke that promise towards the end of the case. I don’t think Asgore killed that Burger fella. In fact, I’m pretty sure he didn’t. Still, I let them convict ol’ Fluffybuns.

I wasn’t sure what happened until he took the stand of course, till I heard all the facts from metal head and fish face. The ideas, the guesses, they were always in the back of my skull, gnawing away in the dark, but I suppose I’m good at ignoring things like that.

Something needed to be done with Asgore, after all. He needed to stop those little bad habits of his. I couldn’t see a more peaceful solution than this. Us monsters have never really needed to make a jail, after all. They were strangely forgiving, even knowing what he did.

The monsters in charge of the judicial system, (Mettaton, Gertrude, myself and a few others) decided we’d keep him under house arrest. At least, that’s kind of the best way to describe it. He’s not allowed to leave his home, not really allowed to do anything without The Family (aka Tori) knowing. People can still come visit him, ask him for advice, make a bit of tea, but that’s about it.

So I get what you’re thinking. Asgore (supposedly) kills an innocent kid. A monster kid no less. He only gets house arrest? He got off easy. Well, to be honest, we thought about the death penalty. It was an uncomfortable subject and it was clear there was no monster out there that would be able to carry it out.

Well, heh, guess that’s not completely true. 

The guy’s pretty sad still. But, I think he’s feeling a little better. He’s left to those plants and flowers he loves so much. Not many come to visit him, though, but I think they’ll come around. This is probably the happiest ending that could come out of the situation, isn’t it?

Still, if Asgore didn’t kill that monster, though, who did? Who did, I wonder? And why?

Once again, I want to remind anyone reading this (but no one is reading this, so it doesn’t matter) that this is all speculation. I don’t have any proof, and I never witnessed anything myself.

But…

I get the feeling my pal, Flowey, killed Burgerpants. Strange, I know. Very strange. Flowey is such a cheerful, happy, helpful little friend, isn’t he? Why would he ever do something like that?

Well, first, we need to understand why he was with Asgore at the scene of the crime that night. I have a hunch. I think ol’ Gorey finally got enough of what he wanted out of his little bad habits. I think he wanted to give the fruits of his effort to Flowey, hoping that maybe it’d turn his son back to normal.

Problem with that, is Tori wouldn’t let Asgore near Flowey. She was very adamant, believe me, the arguments those two would get into got pretty heated. (get it, cuz fire magic) But, my good friend, Flowey, he’s a crafty little guy. He’s made some escapes; he’s gotten into contact with his father before without his mother’s knowledge.

How do I know that? Just a hunch, that’s all. What? I’m not the type to stalk people.

This brings us to that fateful night. If I had to guess what the scene would be, it’d probably be like this:

The rain musta been pouring like it always is. Asgore probably waited in that alley way for a good amount of time, without an umbrella. He was soaked to the bone, but poor Gorey felt he deserved it. He had soul and he had determination.

Once Flowey actually showed up, he probably did that sickly sweet thing he likes to do. Call him “daddy” and all that nonsense, really get into Asgore’s head. It must have been difficult seeing his son like this, but I bet Asgore was thinking it’d all be worth it. All those horrible things he did, all of it would be worth it if he could see his son again.

Although, thinking on it, human souls and determination are all well and good, right? You can do some great things with those on your side, but isn’t it missing one important ingredient?

Right, right, I forgot. A monster’s soul.

Flowey doesn’t have one of those, now does he?

Still hypothetically speaking here, of course… Asgore knew all this. He knew a monster soul would probably be needed. But, I don’t think he meant for it to be Burgerpants. I don’t think Asgore planned on giving any monster’s soul but his own.

Flowey, being the precocious scamp that he is, also knew a monster soul would be necessary. This whole thing was probably just a misunderstanding.

Poor Burgerpants, though. Wrong place, wrong time. How can a guy be so unlucky? Hey, whenever I’m feeling down, at least I can remind myself some other guy had it way worse.

Anyway, this Burgerpants fella shows up, and here’s what I think happens. Flowey misunderstands the situation. Or maybe he didn’t care. Maybe those dark habits of Asgore rubbed off on him in that moment. Maybe Flowey was just feeling particularly grumpy that day. Who knows? I certainly can’t read that flower’s mind. Don’t want to either. Hope I never do.

Flowey kills Burgerpants on the spot before Asgore can even react. A huge vine, full of thorns, slams him into the dumpster. Looks like a claw mark (or maybe a trident mark), heh. Now, remember, little flower boy is the son of two incredibly powerful fire users. Even if it wasn’t on purpose, I think he’s still got a little heated edge to his attacks. Explains why the time of death couldn’t be figured out. Dust was still hot. No one expected fire magic.

This frightens Asgore. This was meant to be his son, Asriel? How could this cruel being before him claim to be his son, yet be so full of hate? Maybe Asgore blamed himself at that moment.

Either way, he couldn’t go through with it after that. Maybe everything he did would go to waste, maybe those humans died for nothing, but he couldn’t keep making mistakes, now could he? Just because he buried a hole so deep for himself, didn’t mean he had to keep digging and take everyone with him, right?

Probably good thinking, I’d say. Best thinking he’d done in a while.

I’ll bet Flowey lost that sweet charm of his after that. I’ll bet he demanded those souls and that Determination from Asgore. “Why won’t you give it to me?! I’m your son!” he probably said. Maybe even threatened him when things didn’t go his way.

Asgore must have been feeling real bad at that time, but you gotta remember, through it all, he is still a father. A father disciplines his child. For the first time in years, maybe even ever, I think Asgore raised his voice at Flowey. I think he told Flowey “Go home to your mother, never speak of this again.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I get my --”

“I said GO!”

And just like that, Flowey was afraid. He’d never seen his father like this. Ol’ Fluffybuns actually mad? Boy, almost wish I coulda seen that.

But I didn’t.

Flowey must have dug back into the ground, running away to his mama while papa cleaned up after his mess.

Heh, it’s a good thing no one else figured it out, right? If Tori found out about this, would she be able to live with herself, I wonder? I have no idea what she might do. What would everyone think if they found out Flowey was a killer?

I think it’d be a lot of trouble for the little guy. I think he knows better now, though. I don’t think he’s ever going to hurt anyone again, or else he’ll have a pretty bad time.

Luckily, this is all guess work. No one has to know. No one needs to mess up this happy ending we got. No one’s going to read this.

 guess this is just between you and me, isn’t it, pal?

...

..

.

The notepad had appeared on his bedroom table that night. Flowey knew it wasn’t on accident. He read the thing, read through the crappy jokes and the even crappier handwriting. His leaves trembled slightly, his vision blurred multiple times.

With an angry toss, the notepad slammed into the lit fireplace. The flames ignored it completely, of course. Toriel’s fire was never hot enough to burn.

With the grit of his teeth and the furrow of a brow, the fireplace erupted in flames. The notepad was devoured, disintegrated.

Turned to dust.

The thought unnerved him, haunted his mind. It was best to douse those flames now, forget it ever happened.

The fire cackled at him.

And the rain poured.

That smiley trashbag…

[the-silver-sunrise]

The Zephran’s Kid (Tales from the Lost Souls’ #2)

It was one of those slow days at the Lost Souls’ Rest. The only patrons for the past hour were a couple men who kept to themselves, Guy had been wiping the same table for the past twenty minutes. Sven and Effy were in the back, killing time while Julia leant over the bar, idly drawing shapes with a finger.

A gust of wind followed by footsteps drew Julia out of her daydreams as she saw a man walk through the door. He looked young, younger than Julia at least, but he seemed to carry himself with confidence. His messy, brown hair flew about in the wind until he closed the door behind himself and made an effort to brush it back with his fingers.

After taking a second to look around the bar, the man walked towards Julia but he was intercepted as Guy dashed in front of him.

“I’m sorry Sir,” He said nervously, “but we don’t allow customers to bring weapons into the bar.”

Julia glanced down and saw that the man had a rapier sheathed at his belt. The man seemed surprised to see it as well, since he burst out laughing when he saw it there. “Of course. Sorry about that, I forgot I still had this thing with me. Is there somewhere I can leave it here?”

Guy didn’t answer for a while, not sure how to respond, “Uhh, I guess we can keep it in the back room.”

“Great, thanks!” he answered, immediately unbuckling the sword from his belt and handing it to Guy. “Oh, before you go, you wouldn’t happen to know a guy named Sven Pettersen, would you?”

Guy looked up at the man, surprised “The owner is named Sven. I’m not sure if that’s his surname though. Julia?” He asked, looking towards his co-worker.

Julia didn’t move from her leaning position behind the bar. “That’s our boss, yes. Who, may I ask, are you?”

“He’s an old friend of my family.” The man answered with a smile, “I thought I’d come and see him.”

‘He didn’t sound suspicious’ Julia thought. She nodded to the man and said “Okay. Guy, could you let Sven know, and be careful with that sword.”

Guy looked down at the sword in his hand and tightened his grip on the scabbard “Got it.” He said before turning away.

“Tell him ‘The Zephran’s kid’ is here to see him.” The man called as Guy walked away, “He should know it’s me.”

Guy nodded back before he stepped into the back room. The man looked back at Julia and took a seat at the bar. “So, how long have you worked here?” He asked Julia before holding out a hand, “I’m James, by the way, James Zephran. Julia, was it?”

Julia smiled and shook James’ hand. “That’s right.” She said “I’ve worked here for about… five years, I think.” As she said it, the realization hit Julia that it had been that long. Could that be right? It only felt like a few months ago when she first walked through the Lost Souls’ doors.

Julia shook her head, bringing herself back to the present day. “I’m sorry. Can I get you anything?” She asked James while handing him a menu.

He glanced at the menu for a few seconds before remarking, “Wow. I’ve been checking a lot of bars around Riverhold since I moved here and none of them have this kind of selection. Normally it’s just beer and if you’re lucky, whiskey.”

Julia chuckled, “That’s all thanks to our mixologist, Effy.” She said, pointing across the bar to where Effy had just left the back room and was collecting glasses from a recently vacated table.

James followed Julia’s gesture and watched Effy. “Isn’t she a little young to be working in a place like this?” He asked, suspiciously.

Julia shrugged before answering. “Normally, I’d say so too, but she’s very good at her job. She’s not just here for her dad to keep an eye on her.”

“She’s Sven’s kid?” James asked. Julia nodded and he leaned back on his stool. “Woah, last I heard, his girl had just started school.” He continued watching Effy take the glasses behind the bar before he turned back to Julia “So what kind of beer do you recommend?”

Julia pointed at a certain entry in the menu and recited her usual recommendation, “Well, we just got restocked yesterday with a delicious blonde pale ale from a local brewery in a nearby village.”

James nodded before laughing sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I’m going to sound like an idiot but… I know the name ‘Pale Ale’ but what does that actually mean?”

“Oh, it’s not that unusual to not know.” She said with a smile. “You see, pale ale is brewed using a pale malt, which is to say the barley used is a lighter color than usual which makes the ale itself a paler color. Blonde pale ales are basically another step further, being even paler than a regular pale ale. It has a particularly dry, crisp taste that I quite enjoy.”

James had been nodding along to her explanation. When she was done, he smiled, “Sounds good. I’ll have a pint of that.”

“Coming right up.” Julia picked up a pint glass from behind the bar and set it beneath a tap. She pulled at the tap and the glass began to fill with a frothy, yellowish liquid. After a few seconds Julia presented the customer with his beer. “Here you are. I hope you enjoy it.”

He took the glass and held it up in thanks. “I’m sure I will. This place is really full of surprises. The most a barmaid normally knows about a beer is which tap it is.”

Julia felt herself blush from the compliment. “Thank you, but again, that’s thanks to Effy. She has a real passion for this…” She gestured to the many, many bottles displayed behind her, “… and once you get her talking, it can be hours before she stops. Most of what I know is just what I’ve picked up from her.”

“Come on, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re clearly a very intelligent woman.”

“Well, thank you again.” Julia turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her slowly turning redder. When she looked to her side, she saw her boss standing there, chuckling.

“Well, look at you.” Sven said, stroking his mustache. “How’ve you been, James?” James turned to look at him and stood up.

“Sven!” James exclaimed, “It’s been years!” The two of them shook hands but Sven pulled James closer for a hug. Julia couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing James’ surprise.

“Julia, get me an ale.” Sven ordered. She nodded and poured her boss a drink while the two men sat down at the bar.

“So how’s the family?” Sven asked. Julia served his ale and he gave her a thankful nod.

“They’re doing good, thanks.” James took a swig from his drink before elaborating, “The old farm’s still the same as before. Blair, my sister, she’s been getting more involved lately. Kind of like your girl.”

Sven glanced behind him at Effy, who had a number of assorted bottles and ingredients out on the bar. Julia saw him smile before turning back to James. “Yep. Nothing makes a father more proud than seeing his child wanting to continue what he started. So what brings you to Riverhold?”

James laughed sheepishly before answering, “Well, you know. The farm wasn’t my place. I thought I’d take a swing at adventuring. I mean, you and my folks could make a living out of it so I figure I’d do alright. Riverhold sounded like a good place to do it. Frontier city, a lot of news of strange and wonderful creatures wandering the borders, it sounded like a fun time.”

Sven’s brow lowered and his tone became serious, “Dangerous work, that is. There’s a reason the three of us retired from that life. Just take care of yourself, alright?”

James gave the older man a grin “Yeah, yeah, like I haven’t heard the same thing from Dad. I’m not doing anything too dangerous yet. I’m mainly doing work in the city until I’ve got some more experience.”

“What kind of work?” Julia asked.

“Volunteer guard stuff. They’re always looking for new guards and they have openings for adventurers to help out in places. It’s boring and doesn’t pay much, but it’s a start.” James shrugged before taking another swig from his drink.

“Hey, Jules!” Effy called from the other end of the bar. “Can I get a hand over here?”

“I’ll be right there.” Julia called back before turning back to Sven and James. “Please, excuse me, Gentlemen.”

Sven nodded, dismissing Julia without a word. James raised his half empty glass “Come back soon.” He said with a wink.

Julia turned away and walked casually towards Effy. There was no one sat by her end of the bar so Julia assumed that she didn’t need her help with customers at least. “What do you need?” Julia asked once she was close enough to speak normally.

Effy looked behind Julia for a few seconds before asking, “Who’s that guy with my dad?”

Julia turned back to make sure who Effy was talking about. “James Zephran, rookie adventurer.” She answered, “He’s either an old friend of your dad’s or he’s the son of one. I’m not sure.”

Effy stared at the floor for a while, her darting eyes telling Julia that she was thinking very hard. “Zephran…” She eventually muttered, “Yeah, I think Dad had a friend called Zephran back when he was adventuring.”

Julia nodded. “In that case, James is probably that friend’s son. He doesn’t look that old so he’d have been a child back then.” Effy nodded back in understanding. “Was that all?” Julia asked.

Effy presented Julia with a small glass containing an unknown, bright red liquid. “I need you to drink this.” She said.

Julia picked up the strange drink and sniffed it. It didn’t smell of anything beyond alcohol. That was a start. “A new concoction?” Julia asked.

“Yep.” Effy responded enthusiastically, “I’m mostly trying out stuff right now, and since I can’t drink alcohol…” Her eye’s darted between Julia and the glass.

She had no way out of it. Even if Effy wasn’t her manager, Julia always had difficulties saying ‘no’ to people. She looked closely at the drink. Its bright red color reminded her of health potions, only those didn’t froth or smell like whiskey. “What’s in it?” Julia asked suspiciously.

Effy shook her head. “I’m not telling. People always make bad assumptions when you tell them what’s in something they haven’t drank. I promise that, unless some weird chemistry that no one’s ever seen before has happened, it’s perfectly drinkable.”

Julia sighed before chugging the whole thing. She placed the glass on the bar and almost immediately began coughing. Her mouth felt like it was on fire! She quickly filled a second glass with water from a tap and downed it just as quickly.

“Well?” Effy asked expectantly, “How was it?”

Julia was leaning on the bar and breathing heavily in an attempt to relieve the burning in her mouth. After a few seconds it began to fade, surprising Julia by leaving behind a tingling sensation on her tongue. “That was… weird.” She eventually said.

“Good weird or bad weird?” Effy asked, seemingly oblivious to Julia’s coughing fit a few seconds earlier.

‘When is weird ever good?’ Julia considered asking before deciding against it. She coughed one last time to clear her throat and stood up straight. “Well…” Julia contemplated, taking a moment to find the right words. “It was VERY spicy. So much so that I don’t think I’ll be able to taste my dinner later tonight. The surprising thing, though, was that after drinking that water, it went from a spicy aftertaste to a sweet one.”

Effy took out a pencil and began writing in her notepad that was supposed to be for taking orders. “Water, huh.” She mused as she wrote, “Maybe it’s too strong on its own. I should try watering it down next time.” Effy looked up at Julia watching her and waved her away. “Thanks Jules. You can go back to what you were doing.”

Julia looked behind her to watch Sven and James still talking and laughing together. They were so caught up in their conversation that they’d barely touched their drinks. “I don’t think they’ll miss me for a bit.” Julia said mostly to herself. She then spoke up so that Effy would hear her, “I’m going to take my break.”

Effy didn’t respond for a while as she kept writing. Eventually she put the notepad away and answered “Okay. I’ll yell if we suddenly get busy. Guy took his break after that Zephran guy came in. Tell him to come back if you see him out there.”

Julia waved as she walked to the back door “Will do. Thanks.” She called back as she opened the door and stepped into the quiet alleyway. The sun had set a while ago so when Julia looked up she saw a sky dotted with stars and a beautiful crescent moon.

“Have you come to get me?” asked a voice from behind the door. Julia closed it to see Guy casually leaning against the wall.

She shook her head. “I’m just taking my break.” She answered, “Effy wants you to come back in but I can tell her you were chasing off some troublemakers, if you’d like.”

Guy chuckled at the idea. “Nah. I’m good.” He said, stepping away from the wall. “Actually, one thing. How did I do? You know, with that guy’s sword?”

Julia held her chin in thought for a moment before replying “You did well. You were polite yet clear and he was understanding so everything worked out. If he’d been rude to you I’d have helped you out. Good job.”

Guy sighed in relief and smiled. “Thanks. Has that ever happened to you?”

“A couple times,” She answered with a shrug, “back before you or Effy worked here. Sven used to keep his old mace behind the bar and in situations like that he’d threaten to beat them to a pulp if they didn’t ‘Get the hell outta my bar!’”

The two of them laughed at Julia’s poor imitation of Sven. “So the boss seriously used to be an adventurer?” Guy asked.

“So he tells me.” Julia answered with another shrug, “I only met him after he retired and opened this place.”

Guy took a step back and looked to the bar. “Not a bad retirement, I guess. He isn’t here that often though. Lucky he was here to see his friend.”

Julia shook her head “He still comes in quite a bit. I think they must schedule your shifts to cover his days off.”

Guy looked up in thought. “Huh. I guess that makes sense.” He muttered to himself, “I should get back in. See you later.” Julia waved to Guy as he opened the door and walked in.

Julia noticed a wooden box lying on the ground next to the building across from the bar. Feeling the sudden need to sit down, she brushed off any dirt and sat on it. The box was sturdy enough to take her weight. ‘Must have been used to move something heavy’ she thought to herself.

It occurred to Julia, now that she was alone with her thoughts, that her mouth was still tingling with the sweet aftertaste of Effy’s concoction. It wasn’t that unpleasant, just strange that an aftertaste would still be this strong after so long. “I should remember to ask her what was in that.” Julia mumbled to herself, “I wonder if I could make it myself? Hopefully she didn’t put any magic in it.”

The night sky was surprisingly clear. Julia couldn’t see a single cloud in the slit of sky she could see between the buildings around her. She sat there for a long while, watching the stars slowly drift through the darkness. She didn’t notice that she was humming to herself until she had finished a song that she vaguely remembered from years ago.

‘I haven’t heard that song in so long.’ She thought as she started humming the familiar tune a second time. ‘It was another life when I last sang this song. Why am I suddenly remembering it now?’

Julia was brought out of her reverie by the door to the bar opening. She immediately stopped humming and saw Effy poke her head out. “Hey. That James guy just left. He wanted me to pass on a message.”

Julia sat back on the box. “Oh really?” She said.

“Yeah. It was some fancy rubbish about stars aligning or something.” Effy waved an arm in front of her, as if she was in a play or something, before looking at Julia coyly. “I think he likes you.”

“Don’t be silly.” Julia chided, though she did smile at the thought. “He was probably just being polite. Still, it sounds like we’ve got a new regular.”

“I do like regulars.” Effy said with a cocky grin. From behind her, Julia heard the front door to the bar open followed by multiple footsteps. Effy glanced back inside before turning back to Julia. “We’ve got a group. Breaks over, Jules.”

Julia chuckled at how quickly Effy went from casual to business. “Whatever you say, Boss.” She said as she stood up, and followed Effy back inside.