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taranida · 5 months

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What's in the box?! Or contents of Samantha's shoebox and who wrote what

Many of my theories use evidence from This House of Dreams — how two sets of poems in the shoebox were written by two different authors. I never explained, why I use it as a fact, but I have an excuse! To this day I cannot with confidence say which font is used on the first set. Not like I didn’t try to find out, but I’m at a loss: everything authentic to the time has at least one thing that doesn’t fit. But at this point I also believe that it doesn’t really matter much. There is already enough to talk about as is, and, finally I can touch up on the topic of the Light Switch vs the Clicker.

So, let’s look at the contents of the shoebox and do some comparisons.

First time when Samantha finds it, she makes this photo:

This is where the first set of poems comes from, together with the photos of the Diver, who wrote those poems, and his girlfriend as confirmed by the Bright Presence in the dream:

“The diver from the photos appeared to me. He looked nothing like in the photos, but it was the same man. He was the poet who had written the poems as well. In the dream he floated in the air above me in the bedroom as if we were underwater. He was wearing a strange, heavy diving suit, almost like a spacesuit, and he was shining with a bright light.” “The diver told me that a dark presence had taken over his girlfriend (the woman in the photos).”

What poems he wrote from the two sets is not specified, but it’s not really needed. Let’s take a look at the photos:

Honestly, with such a blatant “the girlfriend — the woman in the photos”, I have questions. Barbara as the Dark Presence in-game is rocking black hair even at her respectable body-age of 65, the woman in the photos seems to be blond or at least light-haired.

Did the Dark Presence make some changes to Barbara’s body to match the gothic vibe more? Did the public perception of The Scratching Hag and Baba Yaga make her black-haired? Sadly, we have no other images of Barbara Jagger to confirm any of that (no, the photo from the second game with Tom the Filmmaker Seine and Baba Jakala is not a source I’m willing to accept), but the detail is quite curious. It is entirely possible that the Dark Presence having the body would be able to make some changes; after all the Bright Presence made Tom’s body so shiny, he’s a floating lamppost. The Poet and The Muse also point that some changes are possible:

In the dead of night she came to him With darkness in her eyes Wearing a mourning gown Sweet words as her disguise

I have doubts that Barbara went to swim in a mourning gown, and the Dark Presence throughout the game is still dressed for funerals, even if her body changed and aged — the clothes adapted to it, fitting perfectly.

Okay, let us move on to the poems. We have few things to establish the author of each set. Firstly, the font. From the first game we know that Alan’s typewriter accompanies him in the Dark Place:

This is the shot from the moment when Alan finds Alice’s “surprise”, that starts the argument.

This is from the very end of the game. We also can see that the font on the page is Courier; same font that is stressed in the guide:

“Wake was hard at work, adding the final edits to his manuscript. He loved the Courier font.”

Twice!

“But then other, less savory ideas began to formulate, encased in the disgusting, black Courier font.”

Second set of poems also has a page that’s pretty in-your-face:

The Courier font; the title page of the AWAN’s Return; revelation about Campbell’s Monomyth, that plays huge role in AWII (In the whole AW franchise to be fair). All of this points to Alan, of course.

Now the first set uses a different font for starters. I will put them side-by-side:

The first one is Tom’s and the second is Alan’s.

The differences do not end here. We also have handwriting on some pages. Since the title-page is the one surely marked by Alan’s hand, let’s take it as an example and put all other notes near:

I’m by all means nowhere near to be a handwriting expert, but those “T”, “N”, “K”, “U, “E” — they kinda look alike. Yes, the writing changes a bit from one page to another, giving a feeling that something was written passionately or even frantically, something — calmly, with care, something dismissively. But some letters just stay the same for the most part. I would bet it’s the same hand. And yes, I see the elephant of E. in the room, I will talk about it.

Now let’s take a look on the notes from the first set of poems:

I know it’s an abomination of a picture, but we can see, that the way of writing is different.

I’ll also put them side-by-side:

It is another abomination, but easier to compare.

Finally, we can talk about the contents.

The first set of poems has 12 of them. And since Tumblr doesn't allow more than 30 pictures per post, I will drop the images while I can and others I'll leave as text and a link. The most famous are, of course:

The “follow my light”.

From the memorial at the Cauldron Lake Lodge:

And:

Used in OGoA’s Balance Slays the Demon (along with the memorial’s lines and the part of “follow my light”).

And those two from the second game, that are recited by Tom the Filmmaker:

In this temple of shadow and mist There's a window In the floor and A door in the ceiling There is no knowing Am I standing still Or running or kneeling

I wish it would shatter Like glass under my heels Just like a sheet of ice When I close my eyes That’s how the mirror feels Oh mercy Thousands have gone missing Beyond the labyrinth of me When you’re lost You’re lost in your own company

I will also draw attention to a bit of unreliable information, since the site of OGoA was taken down, but I find it curious. So, their albums’ names go like that:

And four of them are lines from Tom’s poems:

Until that time comes around again The shadow falls on this town again It’s barely evening But the shadow falls on me again No one will miss us Our faces inked black They’ll sell our things at the flea market They’ll never call us back So she left with them They’ll wine her and dine her We huddle naked in this alley Nothing’s for sure Fir needles tickle We bathe in rain water All the way to the ocean The memory of the slaughter Until that time comes around again The shadow falls on this town again It’s barely evening But the shadow falls on me again When I’m awake I’m barely alive When I sleep I have two hearts Your heart and mine Your two hearts and mine

The memory of the Slaughter, 1971

I go underground Follow me underground Everyone else has gone there Down to the ground I’ll take you underground They chased a mystery They are a mystery to me And you’ll think that of me When I tell you my tale What we bring with us Sorry secrets and awkward lies Wet matches A yarning for overcast skies Everything else down here Has been stolen so many times Everyone who walks down these steps dies I go underground Follow me underground Everyone else has gone there Down to the ground I’ll take you underground

Follow Me Underground, 1972

Divorce me from all that’s sane Screaming, mute darkness Descend on this frail frame I drown in fathomless black space Light never scratched The depths of this domain I see not; yet nothing could be worse Than the shades My mind calls herein Alone at my own wake The unraveling of reason’s skein

Alone at My Own Wake, 1973; The Unraveling of Reason’s Skein, 1975

Now, for completion’s sake I would drop all the poems that are left, but because I managed to get an error every time I've tried to save draft, it will be a link: here's the post of the blog with all 12 poems of the first set.

Aside from the one that starts with "We pillage and whore" (although it can be connected to the Taken), many of those poems point to Barbara being taken by the Dark Presence already. It’s up to interpretation, of course, but I see it there. I, honestly think that those poems were among others that Alan found in the shoebox in the cabin in the first game:

“Anything outside of writing is a struggle. I feel ill. I managed to make my way downstairs. There’s a shoebox filled with books and papers by Thomas Zane. It’s very hard to focus but I managed to read some of it. He’s a poet and a good one. He writes of muses and creators, summoning fabulous things from a magic lake, using its power to shape the world, of a realm of gods and dreams, and demons, dark things that wait for a chance to slip through, wearing the flesh of men as disguise. Zane writes about himself, his girlfriend being taken over by a Dark Presence, about growing scared of the lake. Zane believes it’s a mirror to the gaping void of darkness above, where some Lovecraftian presence lurks. I crawled back upstairs. I’ll borrow these things for my story. They ring true. They fit.”

Also, can’t help but wonder, why would Barbara be so happy about this poem to even draw a heart?

I mean it reads as “love is no more”. But, again, what do I know about Tom’s unique way of expressing his thoughts through art? Or the Dark Presence’s kinks.

Moving to Alan’s poems. By the way, pay attention on the poor condition of the pages; the first set is not pristine, but at least not this horribly damaged.

This one heavily hints on Alan’s journey. Now I will drop all the other poems as well (and hope I won't hit a wall with the ammount of pictures):

I’ll just leave some of my thoughts about the poems and tie them to events of Alan’s journey a bit. You can treat it all as a wild speculation, really.

Spider time! Oh, sorry, I meant: wild speculations time!

The poem about the princess: Mr. Scratch and the Dark Presence? I’m of the opinion that Alan consumed the Dark Presence after “filling it’s heart with light” and I will eventually talk about it; but it fits. To both Mr. Scratch and Scratch in the second game. The rope-walking feels like Alan’s “I’m drowning”, his always-changing mind-state in the Dark Place and also sends back to the AW1 DLCs. Well, the king poem is obviously the desire to leave the Dark Place and the inability to do it. I have no clue what the dinning poem is about, to be honest, is it somehow connected to deer? Deer-fest? Or the Dark Place populace that might or might not feed on Alan himself? After all, in AWAN he claims he became highly knowledgeable of the inhabitants and the fauna of the Dark Place.

The end of wild speculations.

Now let’s talk about E. And I kept the last poem with no wild speculations just for that. So, we have E. and B. in the notes of the second set of poems as well; I would assume that this is the moment in Alan’s stay in the Dark Place when he goes mad enough to try to impersonate Tom or summon him this way, or even create yet another Barry from DLCs, but this time — Tom (might be with Alan’s face?). B., obviously is as dead as she can be for Alan, he probably has no idea about the private island (or forgot about it), so we have only one mention of her, one that is plausible in Alan’s opinion. E., on the other hand was in the Dark Place with Alan at the time or before.

Allow me to explain. Emil “That Arsehole” Hartman is reported missing in AWE-35 up to 2011:

The “notable individuals still missing after the Bright Falls event” here assumes that Hartman still wasn’t located by FBC after the events of AW1, but they already know about the book published in 2011. Sometime after he was arrested:

And released:

Only after that he makes his leap of faith into the Dark Place. By rough calculations year is 2011-2012, so before being spat out from the lake he might’ve been there with Alan and those notes about E. not understanding:

"E can't see it. He's view is too narrow, limited. It's not a lake, it's an ocean, darkness before the act of creation, before the Big Bang, darkness upon the face of the deep, upon the face of the waters, before light, before the primeval atom, before the word, before THE POEM. I can be a creator, the creator. It has happened before, and it will happen again, many times."

Might be genuine. Hartman jumped into the lake having no idea about its nature, tunnel-visioning only the opportunities, profits. His understanding in the recording before the plunge is narrow and limited, his overconfidence blinds him, he has no clue what he’s dealing with, he was shown glimpses of the power of the Dark Place, but was never able to comprehend it.

And it costed him greatly. Alan, assuming the role of Tom, even wrote him a warm farewell; far warmer than Alan without any splitting personalities or creating imaginary friends would have (the grin after closing the office door on Hartman in the Lodge during the attack of the Dark Presence is golden):

I would bet that E., indeed, didn’t find this funny.

And a bit more clues about the contents of the shoebox. Following the story of Samantha, we know that she found it the first time just to give it to FBC:

“In the dream, I heard the doorbell ring and went to open the door. There was a man there. He said he was a federal agent. He showed me his badge and all, just like the FBI agents do in the movies. Here comes the scary part: there was something wrong with his face; it was leaking inky smoke so that I couldn’t see what he looked like. When I woke up I realized that this image totally came from the ink-covered faces in the photos, of course (see the previous post). The man asked me about the shoebox. He said that it contains top-secret information and that I need to give it to him. I got scared that he’ll put me in jail and went to get the shoebox, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I searched the whole house but it was nowhere. Then I went to the bathroom to look for it, and saw myself in the mirror: my face was covered with inky smoke as well! And that’s when I woke up. When I think back about the dream, it didn’t say “FBI” on his badge; it said “AWE”. This is the weirdest thing of all: Now I can’t find the shoebox anywhere. I have looked everywhere I can think of. I’m sure that it will turn up somewhere, there is so much junk lying around in the house at the moment, but kind of creepy in any case.”

She writes about it as a dream, but it did happen, here’s the whiteboard from Control:

Then there was yet another dream:

“In the dream I was visiting the previous owner of my house at the nursing home, only in the dream the owner wasn’t a sweet old lady, he was a man, and he wasn’t old, he was a young man with a dark hair – very good looking in fact. I remember that he was wearing a funny jacket with old-fashioned elbow patches. I was there to find out about the shoebox, but he was very agitated and didn’t listen to me. The place was brightly lit, it was sunny outside, but he was still very anxious and wanted me to turn all the lights on. He kept going on about the place being too dark. I remember being certain that all the lights were on already, but that didn’t calm him down. In the end he was screaming for me to turn the lights on. I was also starting to freak out, starting to think that something horrible was coming to take us away, and that’s when I woke up.”

Hard to miss those give-away elbow patches, so Samantha had a dream about Alan a week before she got the shoebox back. Here are the contents:

“When I found the shoebox again, there were more poems inside, and a battered, old device: a switch of some kind. I actually had to go and ask about it in the local hardware store to be sure what it was. It’s an old light switch. When you flick it, there’s a solid, satisfying click. When I flicked it the first time after finding it, all the lights in the house went out.”

What in the Dark Place is this Light Switch? I’m still trying to figure it out. We know that the Clicker washed ashore after 2013; if Alan wanted the Clicker in our world, he could arrange it: it was there, in his possession in 2012; why was this sent in the shoebox? It might be explained in the future or it might not. But I will still refer to it as Zane’s Light Switch and call the Clicker Alan’s. Because as much as Odin says that the Light Switch (meaning the Clicker) was cut of “Tom’s lamp”, he also calls Alan “Tom”, so which “Tom” are we talking about there?

The only theory about the Light Switch I have: it’s an OoP that’s bound by the real Thomas Zane and has no use for Alan or anyone else, since Thomas is partially alive and can maintain the connection with the item. Or the Bright Presence might be its new wielder. In any case, this at least somewhat explains why Samantha, of all the people, was shown the story about the Last Dive. I don’t think she bound the item, but she did use it, causing the power outage for the whole neighbourhood, might be enough to summon the Bright Presence. Otherwise I can’t stop wondering why Samantha, being so important as to learn the story of the Last Dive, never showed up again.

But, who knows, after all, her blogging time ends with:

“I know that something amazing is coming, that something wonderful is going to happen, and at the same time I know that when it does, it will be something totally different from what I’m expecting, something I could never have imagined. And I know it might take a long time before it does happen, but no matter how long it takes, I’ll be here, waiting.”

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #alan wake game #alan wake ii #alan wake remastered #rcu theory #remedy connected universe #remedy entertainment #remedy games #thomas zane #control remedy #control game #control 2019 #this house of dreams

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good-wine-and-cheese · 1 year

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Hi!! It's me again 🐸

What are your comic book/book/anime recommendations?

Hello welcome back to my inbox <3

So I don't have much to say in the way of books or comic books sadly. It's been a hot minute since I've read much in the way of novels and short stories, though I've had some recommended to me, so we'll see how those go! I would love to put more words in my eyeballs.

Comic books I've just never really gotten much into outside of manga. Never really had friends that were into them (outside of superhero comics which didn't really interest me too much) and I tend not to involve myself in things on my own that much, it's more fun to have people to talk to about things.

Manga recs

I'll go ahead and spotlight 20th Century Boys. Not only is it unreasonably relatable right now (especially to readers in their upper 20s and above) it's just like, really well told, as a narrative. It's some of Urasawa's best storytelling I think. I'll obviously say to read most of Urasawa's works in general, but if you asked me to pin down one specific manga, 20th Century Boys is it.

Another manga I would recommend reading is Blue Period. It has an anime, but the anime only covers a very small part of the series and doesn't do it justice at all. Blue Period is a beautiful celebration of art and artists and what it means not to know your place in that world and it's so, so good for people who consider themselves creatives. Also it has some really fun character designs.

Lastly for manga I'll recommend Ajin! I can't think of another manga that I've read that has the same kind of glow up in its visual style. The first couple volumes aren't much to look at, but there's a very quick and noticeable uptick in quality that's very impressive to look at. It's worth checking out just for the artwork honestly.

Anime recs

It was really hard to pare down just a couple I think are exceptionally worth checking out, but I've tried to hit some of the best and most enjoyable series, at least for me. I've pared it down to five.

Mushi-Shi is perhaps my favourite anime overall, ever. It doesn't have a single episode or story beat I dislike, and it's got some of the most beautiful background work and soundtracks in anime, and some very smart, mature writing. It's episodic and easy to pick up at a random episode.

Mob Psycho 100 is one I feel like most folk already know of, but I'll put it on this list anyway because it's another near-perfect anime and has the benefit of being newer so it's especially shiny and has impressive animation to go with a very well told story.

Kaiji: Ultimate Survivor is a must watch and I wish people didn't judge it for the visual style! It's not a pretty show to watch but it's not meant to be. I would say it has a similar message to Monster with respect to being a bit of a social commentary, but it's a lot more cynical. The message of hope is there, but the world of Kaiji is much grittier and more ruthless. Squid Game wishes it had what Kaiji has.

Eureka Seven is my oldest, fondest love in anime. When I say no OST matches what eureka seven has I am being completely serious; literally nothing can match the sound that anime has. Also it's just an absolutely fantastic story about rebellion against an authoritarian government, fighting to protect the environment, has some of the most compelling romances in all of anime, and it just happens to be packaged in a mecha anime skin. It isn't what I would call a mecha anime, it just happens to involve big mech suits.

Ping Pong: The Animation is a mind blowing experience. It's a bit weird for a sports anime in that it doesn't feel like one. I can't say exactly why, because it does still follow a lot of the classic sports anime story beats, it just also throws in some unexpected narrative beats that make it especially unique. You're really watching Ping Pong for the actual animation, though. Trust me.

I have a lot more anime I could list honestly, there are a ton of really good ones that I didn't put on here, but these would be the top 5 I think people definitely need to check out.

#asks #forest-dankovsky #obviously monster isnt on the list strictly because you are coming to a monster blog lmfao #but yeah wish I could give book recs and comic recs LOL yagirl gotta read some more...#I've heard witch hat atelier is really good and I was gonna put it on here but alas I have not read it so cannot confirm #out of these anime though. If I had to force feed any specific one to yall it would definitely be eureka seven. watch that god damn show #its 50 episodes but suck it up and Watch It

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signedeclipse · 1 year

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🦉 anon here, I would like to say that I want to redo a request(if possible) I sent last night when the inbox was open, because I made that request half-asleep with jet lag at 11 PM at night and didn’t fully read the prompt 😅. Im sorry to inconvenience you Eclipse!

I would like to request a match up

Orientation + gender: Asexual/Panseuxal female. No preference if demon or slayer.

Looks: 5ft. Brown eyes and long dark brown hair. I like clothing that aren’t too bright and are kinda dark or less saturated in colour. I leans towards more of a tomboy style but not all the way.

Personality: Eccentric as described by my friends but generally optimistic. Some days I’m full of energy, very skittish, jumpy, other days, I’m very mellowed out, dazed, and tired like a sleepy owl. I guess socially, I don’t interact with strangers unless necessary and prefer to talk to friends.

Hobbies: Art, talking about animals(mostly bird obsessed), watching shows and videos, and playing games(doesn’t have to be video games). I also like to passionately talk about things I like or do and go on for hours about it. I also like trinkets, could be shiny or could be unique. If it looks cool, I would be holding it and staring at it like a magpie.

Others: Scorpio

- 🦉

You got…Mitsuri!

Hear me the fuck out!!! I am onto something!!!!!!!

She has younger siblings, and I think you would be really great with them! Since you can pretty much match kids fluctuating moods and you have all those small facts about birds that they really like. She Is really enamoured with the fact that they always ask about you and ask when they next get to see you!

In a similar way, she also tends to go through energetic spouts, and the more time you spend together the more your inner tunes start to sync.

You and her crow get along so well! Because you are always leaving around little trinkets, it eventually picks up some and brings them to you, so long as you feed it from time to time. Mitsuri appreciates that you care for her bird, because she can get very forgetful about the small things.

Date nights usually involve going to a new restaurant every time, or going to her parents for a family night! Her parents think it's very cute that after all her fuss about a husband, she ended up with a wife, but they take you into the family real quick.

Being competitive in sports is great, because they also get very competitive at their games! While spirit is all the play, anytime you win it impresses Mitsuri a lot!

Expect lots of food dates where you talk for hours over different small dishes and snacks, and a second family that will support you above anything else!

Mitsuri is very joyous when you draw her, and any drawings you make of the two of you together gets framed and put up. In the hallway of the love mansion, there's a small collage in the making from your first drawing of your first date and hopefully it will end in a drawing of your wedding day!

Authors Note - Honestly getting two of these rocks I have double the info to go off of! It's nice to meet someone else who is 5ft, because I sadly never got taller! I don't mind it, but an extra inch or three would have been great lol

I hope you like who I picked! I had to act very serioues, need to make sure owl anon gets a good s/o! No exceptions!

#matchup #demon slayer matchups #demon slayer #mitsuri

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fangaminghell · 2 years

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I am definitely not emotional about Ren. Definitely not emotional about Nancy's sylveon. Nope.

#I need to good name for him #i already named the mawile she gives nancy so what do i name the sylveon????#sadly not a shiny but honestly? matches more #pokemon rejuvenation #pokemon rejuvenation ren

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beom1e · 3 years

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SOUL WATCH

everybody had the soul watch app, because everybody was curious to meet their soulmate. it was an app that told you when or how and gave you hints, but never who. and due to all the pressure, you downloaded the app too... just to find out you didn’t even have a soulmate after all.

PAIRING yang jungwon x gn! reader

THEMES soulmates au, highschool au, fluff, humour

matching jewellery was a trend among soulmates when it came to being a highschool student. those that had found theirs wanted to show it off, basically shoving it into the faces of those that were still searching. walking down the corridors was a constant reminder that you didn’t have a soulmate for yourself, as matched couples would walk hand-in-hand with shiny bracelets or be seen wearing those missing piece style necklaces.

mondays. after freeing yourself from the couple-filled hallways, you sat down at your desk and placed your books onto the table with a huff. trying to block out your classmate bragging about meeting their soulmate over the weekend, you noisily checked around in your bag for your pencil case.

then came the clicking of your teacher’s heels as she entered the classroom, and there was a rush of students finding their seats. the squeaking of chair legs and quiet chatter only made you more annoyed at the world. to say discovering you were soulmate-less a few weeks prior had put you in a permanent bad mood would be an understatement.

but everything lit up as soon as yang jungwon appeared in the doorway. he apologised for being late, cheeks flushed and hair windswept. heat rose to your own cheeks at the sight of his sorry smile.

much to your dismay, he was a few seats to the back and to the right of you. he disappeared from your sight, making you slump sadly in your seat.

‘today is international soulmate day,’ your teacher smiled, setting her powerpoint up behind her. ‘as you all may know. there are many types of soulmate links out there, but i want to know about yours. so research and write about it — its origin, its rarity — and hand it in at the end of class.’

not sure what to do, you raised your hand. ‘what if you don’t have a soulmate?’ at the sound of your voice, jungwon looked up from his notebook. he didn’t have a soulmate either.

‘everybody has a soulmate, y/n,’ she reminded you. ‘maybe you entered your details into soul watch incorrectly.’

‘i don’t have a soulmate either,’ jungwon spoke up. you turned in your seat. ‘so what do we do instead?’

‘this is the first time i’m hearing of people being soulmate-less,’ she chuckled awkwardly, slightly panicked. ‘well, you’re both part of the student board aren’t you? just head down to the main hall and help the others set up for the soulmate dance.’

the soulmate dance. just the thought of it made you roll your eyes. you’d never attended, because you didn’t show interest in finding out until those few weeks ago, but you knew how cheesy it was. it was like every other kind of dance, totally cliché and super boring. except, you got to bring your soulmate.

you packed up your things as quickly as possible. as horrible it would be having to decorate for a stupid highschool dance that you wouldn’t even attend, at least jungwon would be at your side. and he must’ve understood your suffering, especially during international soulmate week on international soulmate day that just happened to fall on a monday.

you slung your bag onto your shoulder and followed jungwon out of the door. he walked slightly ahead of you, holding open each door for you which you quietly thanked him for.

when you made it to the main hall, the bright pink colour palette made your eyes burn. ‘this is going to be a long week,’ jungwon sighed, dropping his bag and leaving you at the door. mentally agreeing, you placed your own bag down beside his.

you sort of felt bad for jungwon. it was depressing to know that you weren’t ‘destined’ for anyone, and that you’d have to find someone the old way. he seemed even less of a fan of soulmate week than you were, but he did seem really down about not having a soulmate of his own.

it was wednesday morning and you’d missed your bus. annoyed with yourself, you had to run to the nearest bus stop in hopes another bus would arrive soon. that was where you saw jungwon and his friends, all of them being upperclassmen.

trying not to be seen, you awkwardly leaned against the outside of the shelter and looked off to the side. ‘it’s not like i like them,’ jungwon argued, which earned a few laughs from the boys. ‘why would i ask them to the soulmate dance if we’re not soulmates?’

‘because you don’t want to spend saturday studying alone in your room?’ sunoo teased, ‘if they’re not matched, then you can ask them. no big deal.’

the bus pulled up in front of them. you waited for them to get on before following, avoiding eye contact and taking a seat at the back. ‘good morning, y/n,’ jake turned around to face you. ‘i didn’t know you take this bus.’

‘i don’t,’ you awkwardly replied. ‘i was late and missed my own bus.’

‘are you going to the dance on saturday?’ sunoo also joined in, smiling brightly at you.

‘oh, uh,’ you nervously fiddled with the straps of your bag. ‘no, i don’t have a soulmate.’

‘well, we were just telling little wonie here that you don’t need a soulmate to go,’ jay patted jungwon’s head, making the younger boy complain about him messing up his hair. ‘you could come with us.’

‘thank you...’ shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you looked between all of the boys who were staring eagerly at you. ‘for the offer... but i don’t want to go. it means a lot, i just don’t do school dances.’

the bus conversation was probably the most awkward thing that happened to you that day. or during lunch time, when you took a seat on a bench facing the sports field. there was jungwon once again, playing around with the same friends. you watched as jake gave up on running around and collapsed to the floor, with everyone mirroring his actions seconds later.

you’d always had a crush on jungwon. he was always so sweet and polite, with the perfect balance between humour and seriousness. you saw him as someone you could easily rely on and trust, despite never being close to him. his cheeks always had this natural blush and his laugh was addictive, and he looked so serious whenever he was concentrating. you felt your heart racing whenever he was around, but you never had the courage to confess to him.

as you got lost in your thoughts, you made eye contact with him across the field. panicked, you began packing your things away and into your bag. then you left, trying not to move too quickly so that it didn’t look suspicious.

after classes, you were called into the main hall once again. knowing today you’d have to be painting, you grabbed your change of clothes from your locker and headed into the changing rooms. coming back into the hall, you were met with jake and sunghoon covering each other in the baby pink paint.

you slipped past them and looked around for something to do. and then someone tapped on your shoulder. it was sunoo, who asked if you could help him with painting the banner. jungwon passed by you, sending you a soft smile before hurrying off towards jay. how did he seem to be everywhere?

on friday afternoon, as you were exhausted from all the decorating you’d been doing, you were so glad to be able to go home and enjoy your weekend. the whole week had been a complete disaster, and you now had a strong dislike towards the colour pink. but much to your dismay, the head of the student board asked you to attend the soulmate dance in order to keep an eye on the students. why he chose you specifically, you had no idea.

so on saturday morning, you tried your best to drag yourself out of bed. though you really didn’t want to dress up for a highschool dance, there was an outfit you had in mind. things weren’t going to change, you weren’t going to randomly get a soulmate, but you stupidly had hope things could change.

you spent most of the day considering backing out, but gave in because you didn’t want to disappoint your classmate. you arrived at the main hall an hour and a half before the event, ready to set things up.

a few students were around, moving tables to either side of the hall. a large red carpet was being rolled through the centre of the room, leading out onto the school gardens. you turned around at the sound of your name, bumping into the source. they reached for your hand, preventing you from toppling over.

a shock of electricity shot through your arm, forcing you to snatch your hand back. ‘i’m so sorry,’ the voice spoke, and much to your dismay, it was jungwon.

you felt your heart racing again, heat rising to your cheeks in an instant. ‘it’s ok,’ you reassured him. ‘it was my fault, so i’m the one that’s sorry.’

‘well,’ he smiled. ‘i guess i’ll see you around.’

honestly, you felt like an idiot. he heard loud and clear just a few days ago that you didn’t want to go to the soulmate dance, but here you were. maybe he would realise you were being forced into it, but if he didn’t, then that would be humiliating.

you shook your head to clear yourself of all the thoughts. ‘y/n,’ turning on the spot, you were met with the sight of jay coming towards you. ‘you’re looking lost. i thought you weren’t coming.’

‘change of plan,’ you simply replied. ‘i was asked to help set up some things.’

��well, i need help carrying some things in from the truck outside,’ he offered. ‘if you’d like to help.’ nodding, you followed behind him at a distance.

the sky was clear — not a single cloud in sight — and the sun was shining brightly. the back doors of the truck were open, workers from the catering company lowering large bottles of drinks onto the ground. jay gestured towards the cluster of fruit juice bottles before grabbing one for himself.

they were heavy, but you managed. walking at jay’s side, you couldn’t think of a conversation starter to make it all a little less awkward. but thankfully, or maybe not, he spoke up first. ‘you do know that jungwon has a crush on you, right?’

the bottle fell from your grip. panicked, you reached forward to catch it again. clearly the universe was on your side in that moment, because it didn’t split.

‘uh, no,’ you forced out a laugh, feeling your entire body heat up. ‘i did not know that.’

‘he denies it,’ jay shrugged, helping you lift the heavy bottle back up from the ground. ‘but we all see the way he looks at you. after he found out you were soulmate-less too, he wanted to ask you to the dance tonight. but when you said you weren’t going, he gave up on that idea.’

what were you supposed to say to that? as you placed the bottles beside the snack table, jay pushed them under it. turning around to see jungwon on the other side of the hall, you felt yourself swallowing your words before leaving to the outside again.

but avoiding jungwon wasn’t as easy as you had hoped. he seemed to be in your line of sight at all times and in all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were avoiding him. after all, if what jay said was true, then the feelings were mutual. still, you couldn’t shift your mind away from the shock you had felt at his touch. you thought maybe you were going crazy and had imagined it, until your phone buzzed with a notification.

leaving jay to bring in the rest of the drinks, you leaned against the exterior wall and pulled out your phone. a notification from soul watch lit up your phone, 0 days until you meet your soulmate. eyes wide, you looked around the area, hoping to see someone checking their phone in that same moment. was that even possible?

you weren’t sure what to do. search for your soulmate? or would they just come naturally to you? did this mean jay was your soulmate? it was a possibility, considering you were with him when the notification came through.

‘you coming inside?’ speak of the devil. you quickly hid you phone, putting on a fake smile and nodding. ‘people will start arriving soon.’

as soon as the hall began to fill up with people, you wished you had never came back inside. you really needed some time and space to think everything through. there was that electricity when jungwon had helped you up, but then you should’ve gotten the notification in that moment, right?

you grabbed your phone from your bag, going out into an empty corridor. sliding down the wall beside the door and pulling up the soul watch app, you searched your profile for details. but all the information it had was about your soulmate link, which happened to be a countdown. and now that the countdown was over, there were no more hints?

you were in complete disbelief, but the soulmate dance wasn’t the place to be researching this.

‘i guess you got it too,’ you looked up to see jungwon. ‘you’ve been avoiding me all day, so you must’ve.’

‘i have not been avoiding you,’ but the redness of your cheeks suggested otherwise. ‘and got what? i don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘a sudden notification that you’ve possibly met your soulmate...?’ he sat down beside you.

‘well actually,’ you could’ve laughed at how stupid you were about to sound. ‘i was avoiding you because of what jay said earlier. and i thought there was no way you could be my soulmate otherwise i would’ve received the notification after we bumped into each other.’

‘who else could possibly be your soulmate?’

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ you turned your head to make eye contact. he quickly looked away and down at the floor, wishing he hadn’t been so bold with his last statement. jungwon was never this forward with people he wasn’t yet close to.

‘i know jay told you that i like you,’ he admitted. ‘and i’ve always known that you like me back. i just never thought to bring it up because i didn’t have a soulmate, and i thought you would have one.’

‘but you have a soulmate now,’ you reminded him, a smile lighting up your features. ‘or... however that works. do you think it has to do with us touching for the first time back then?’

‘you felt that too?!’ his eyes widened as he stared back at you. ‘i thought i was going crazy.’

‘do you want to go back inside?’ you gestured to the door into the main hall. jungwon shook his head, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

‘we could...’ he trailed off, looking behind himself at the exit. ‘or we could ditch this snooze fest and do something fun instead... like go to an arcade?’

‘sounds like a plan,’ you took his hand, letting him pull you up from the ground. he checked if the coast was clear before running towards the exit, the sound of your laughter filling the empty corridor.

#enhypenwriters #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen oneshots #yang jungwon #jungwon #yang jungwon au #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon oneshot #yang jungwon oneshots #jungwon au #jungwon fluff #jungwon oneshot #jungwon oneshots

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dragonotaku-justineverything · 3 years

Note

Since one of your posts said you're ok with incest, I was wondering If you could write Whitley and Willow having a soft tender moment by themselves. With Weiss and Winter gone doing their own things, the mother and son keep each other company from Jacques

Whitley is 18 here. But still...

Warning!!!: Incest lemon is ahead. If you aren't a fan of that, don't look further.

Whitely knew his family life wasn't the greatest growing up. His father never accepted failure and never really had any affection for his children, his two sisters all but abandoned him to be alone at home with said man when they left to attend their academies, his father then began to put excruciating pressure on him to succeed with everything at home, and his mother was drunk more often than not...

However, things had started going much better for him now, granted it took several years, but still good now. His life improved for many reasons. Sadly, one of those reasons included his father being in jail. But his sisters also came back to the mansion and both apologized for their actions, all three of them agreeing to be better siblings to each other and promising to contribute some part in running the SDC in the future no matter who was in charge.

His mother though, that's where things improved the most for the young man.

"Does this feel good Whitley dear?"

Whitley couldn't make any intelligent sound to respond to his mother. He only threw his head back and let out a small moan. She hadn't stopped slowly pumping her large breasts up and down his penis for the past five minutes. They were sliding smoothly along his penis thanks to the baby oil she'd rubbed on her chest prior to her titjob. Despite how tightly Willow had them smothering his member, her pillows didn't meet any resistance .

Whitley was able to reel in his pleasure enough to respond to Willow's earlier question. "Y-yes mother. I-it feels... w-wonderful." Whitley looked down at his mother and smiled warmly. It was honestly kind of a weird situation, but it also felt really good so why should he complain?

Willow matched his smile. She leaned her head forward closer to her chest, and the tip of Whitley's cock poking out between them. "I'm glad~. Just sit back and enjoy yourself dear. You worked hard today and deserve this."

'W-wha-... oh yeah.' Whitley suddenly remembered that he did just finished a pretty stressful day of SDC business meetings... funny how his mother made him forget about that so quickly.

"HahHAH!" 'A-and now her mouth is on my penis~?!'

True enough, Willow had gently started kissing and licking the tip of Whitley's dick whenever it pushed up past her cleavage. Her warm tongue caressing his tip spiked the pleasure Whitley felt to new heights and thankfully he was already sitting down because he could feel his legs go weak. And Willow topped it all off with sucking on the tip and sending a playful wink up at her son.

That was the tipping point for the youngest Schnee.

"Mother! I'm! I'm! Huuuuh!" With a drawn out moan, Whitley unloaded. He felt the cum shoot out from his dick, and he also felt his mother's mouth still on his cock catching it all. His orgasm didn't last very long, but the bliss it gave him did. He felt utterly amazing even after he'd shot his last load into Willow's mouth.

Willow pulled her mouth off of the dick in front of her and swallowed quickly. It wouldn't be right for a proper lady to talk with her mouth full after all. "Mmmm~. That was delicious~. Thank you Whitley dear. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself so much too~." Willow got off her knees and stood up, her nude body towering above her son's sitting form. "I believe I need to go clean myself up a bit now." She looked down at her chest, every square inch of her boobs were still shiny and slick from the baby oil.

"When I come back, how about we try something else to relieve your str-." Willow cut herself off as she watched her son let out a yawn, officially losing the battle he'd been fighting trying to hold it down. The older woman smiled gently, and instead of worrying about her "dirty" chest or any more naughty business, she instead thought of something else.

The Schnee matriarch moved to her son's side and tenderly put her hands on his shoulders. She pushed him with just enough force to lower him down fully to the bed.

Whitley looked up at her a bit confused. "Mother? I-is something wrong?"

"Not at all dear, I just think you need some sleep. Again, you had a long day. Now you stay right there." Willow turned around, briskly walked over to the closet of Whitley's room, and opened it. A minute later and she returned to Whitley's side, her chest wiped dry and a spare comforter folded in her arms.

In a minute, Willow had draped the second comforter over her son and crawled into the bed next to him. Both were wrapped up snuggly and Willow had Whitley's head resting on her chest.

"Mother?"

"Shhhh dear. Sleep now. We can continue our fun another time when you have the energy.

Whitley wasn't sure what to do. He obviously wanted to protest. Both because he didn't feel like she needed to baby him, and he also wanted to keep going. But as her dainty hand rubbed along his hair and she held him close, he had to admit that he was quite comfy where he was. The yawn he had to stifle was evidence for that.

Whitley gave in to his own tiredness and closed his eyes, still resting his head on his mother's breast. "O-okay mother... G-goodnight then, I suppose."

Willow smiled and closed her eyes as well. She really enjoyed having her son in her arms like this. "Goodnight Whitley, and sleep well. You'll be having a day off tomorrow, no buts about that. I'll make sure of it."

Yeah, things certainly were going better for Whitley now. Especially with his mother.

#rwby #whitley schnee #willow schnee #whitley x willow #ask #non sfw #lemon #anonymous

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old-hyper-super-clover · 3 years

Text

"I like you the way you are."

Mammon × Camy (MC) short story

Here's the first request story for my summer event! (Or at least kinda, actually I was the one to ask for permission to write this... xD)

The MC Camy belongs to my dear friend @sketch-guardian. I really hope I did this fluffy duo justice, it's a lot of fun to write those cuties (*´▽`*)

(links to: summer story Masterlist/ request rules)

Have fun~!

„We´re going to the beach?“

“Ya bet we do!”

Mammon was standing in Camy´s room, grinning all wide and excited as he told his human the news. “We annoyed Lucifer until he´d let us go, so now we´re having a vacation in the human world!”

The human girl gave a hesitant nod. She wasn´t the biggest fan of the beach, but seeing her favourite demon this happy was already enough to go along with the plan regardless.

As the words kept bubbling out of Mammon like a waterfall, he noticed Camy wasn´t really sharing his enthusiasm, so he took a step closer to the girl sitting on her bed, making sure to lock eyes with her.

“Whatever ya worry about, don´t. I´ll make sure you have the time of your life, okay? It´ll just be you, me, swimming hand in hand to our heart´s content… Alright?”

He beamed a smile at her, through which he missed the subtle flash of fright that went through her expression. Then, Camy curled her lips in a reserved smile as well.

“Alright. As long as you´re with me, I´m sure it will be great.”

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

The inhabitants of the House of Lamentation are known for causing a ruckus. That didn´t change, even in the human world. Lucifer had his hands full with keeping his brothers out of trouble whilst not arousing too much suspicion with all those humans hanging out at the beach themselves.

As much as Mammon wanted to partake in this ruckus, he wanted to spend this time with Camy even more. He was waiting for her to come out of the summer cottage they have rented, feeling more nervous by the second.

The reason? Well…

Camy was known to wear hoodies, like, all the time. Mammon wasn´t one to complain about that, the hoodies made cuddling even cosier, after all. However, now that they were at the beach, the sun shining down strongly and the ocean waiting for them to take a swim, Camy would come out of the hotel in swimwear for sure.

Hence, the boy was nervous as frick. N-Not in a creepy way! But, ya know… Mammon had fallen for Camy big time, so obviously it would be a big deal to see her like this. Then again, he did not want to appear creepy, so he tried staying calm, but oh man, was it difficult to stay calm when he was so excited to hang out with her for the whole day, also his mind keeps switching back to the swimwear issue and his weak heart can honestly not cope with-

“Mammon? Are you okay?”

I would have loved to write out the kind of noise Mammon made when he heard Camy´s voice behind him, but this level of “Aaasdfdssdh” is not part of my vocabulary sadly. But what I CAN describe is the jump Mammon did while pressing out said noise.

“C-Camy! You´re finally done!” He laughed immediately after to distract her from his flushed red face – which lost its colour again when he turned to look at her.

“Uhm… Is something wrong?” Camy tilted her head, seeing Mammon´s almost shocked expression.

“N… No…” The demon mumbled as he was looking at her outfit: a shirt with sleeves all the way to her elbows, paired with some long jeans. “But, uhm… Isn´t it kinda warm in those clothes?”

The girl gave a shrug. “It´s fine. I´m not really planning of staying in the sun for too long anyway. Also I´m used to hot days from my homeland, so there´s no need to worry.”

“Oh, okay” Mammon replied, trying to ignore this tiny sting in his chest. Instead, he tried to focus on the cute smile on Camy´s face as she asked him to go search for a sun lounger together.

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

As Camy didn´t want to go swimming, the two took a stroll along the seashore instead. At some point, however, Mammon had to take a little dip into the cold ocean water as his demon body wasn´t really used to the summer heat.

“Aaaaah… That´s way better…!” The boy was grinning from ear to ear as he floated in the water. “Oi, human, you sure you don´t wanna join me?” He peeked over to Camy.

She had rolled up her pants to at least put her feet into the water and was bending down to inspect the sand. “Yeah, I´m good” she answered, then turned around stretched out her arm. “Look! This seashell is super shiny on the inside.”

A little grumpy over her stubbornness, Mammon's face was forming a pout as he started to inspect the shell in Camy's hands.

"You're seriously interested in some crap that's swimming in the-" he stopped, eyes going wide as he saw the shell's shininess. "Woah. It's pretty."

A smile spread on Camy's face as she mustered Mammon's sparkling expression. "Right? And the outside has this cool, purple gradient. I've never seen one like this before..."

"There are different kinds of shells?" Mammon asked, to which Camy gave a nod. She explained as much as she could about them -- and suddenly, Mammon was digging in the sand, too.

The girl gave a little laugh. "What was that about 'some crap' earlier?"

A small tsundere blush showed on Mammon's cheeks.

"Well, I've never looked at them this closely before..." he pouted. "But everything sounds so interesting when you're the one talking about it..."

Now the blush had jumped onto Camy's face. Being a bit too flustered to respond anything coherent, Camy continued her search after mumbling a tiny "I see".

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

The pair was really successful in finding a fair share of various beautiful shells in all forms and sizes. Mammon had mentioned wanting to show them off in some way, so Camy suggested they could make cute jewelry out of them.

The second Mammon's brain comprehended that would mean matching accessories with his human, he was sold. The demon had dashed back to the vacation home almost immediately to grab his phone so they could do a bit of research on the topic.

So Camy was waiting at the beach... Waiting for a weirdly long time. The scorching summer heat made it almost painful for her, even under an umbrella. Grumbling, the girl looked at her clothes, then over to the sparkly, refreshing sea. She didn't tell Mammon, but Camy was actually wearing swimwear under those clothes...

The girl let out a big sigh. She ached to dive into the cool water, but her stomach turned at the mere thought of undressing herself in front of all these people that looked so much... better... than her...

The intrusive thoughts kept nagging at her for quite a while, only being disrupted when Leviathan approached the girl.

"Camy! You're waiting for Mammon, right? It seems Lucifer told him to go get something from the store. Mammon urged me to tell you before leaving."

"Oh okay. Thank you, Levi! I'll just... keep waiting, then" she replied, eyes already drifting over to the water again...

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

Mammon was pretty pissed. He couldn't even remember doing that thing Lucifer had scolded him for, so why did HE have to go out to buy groceries that BEEL ate?!

He knew Camy would be waiting for him to come back, so he grabbed those onions and whatnot in the speed of light and hurried back to the beach. Panting from almost running home, he frantically scanned the sun lounger area for Camy... but couldn't find her. Also looking over the rest of the beach, there was no sight of her, either. So instead Mammon went up to Satan and annoyed him until he'd spill the information he needed.

... But Satan also didn't know? And after running back to the cottage to search there, there was still no Camy?? And she wouldn't pick up the thirty calls he'd already left her?!

Mammon's panic mode activated. He went to look everywhere all over again, from one end of the beach to the other. Just so holding himself back from literally turning around stones to search underneath them, he was about to go crazy as he reached the other end of the beach.

But then, as he passed a large boulder, he locked eyes with a girl in swimwear, half of her body submerged in the water...

The second he realised he was staring at Camy, Mammon let out a panicked scream. And simultaneously, once Camy understood Mammon had just found her as she was taking a swim, she was screaming, too. So while one was stumbling backwards into the sand and the other yeeted herself into the ocean, they were squealing out their panic from the top of their lungs.

It took a moment for both to somewhat recover again, but Mammon was the first one to look back at her.

"C-c-camy...! I was... You were..." His brain was running with way too much speed for his mouth to form the right words. Meanwhile Camy had emerged from the water just enough to breathe out of her nose again. She glanced at the demon in great embarrassment.

"You're... Swimming" Mammon then said.

Camy frowned. "... It was too warm, so I thought I'd manage to take a quick dip before you come back, but..." She mumbled as a response. "You were faster than I thought..."

A little silence came over them, with Camy trying to figure out how to save herself out of the water and Mammon trying to understand why she wouldn't swimming together with him earlier.

"Uhm..." The human spoke up after a while. "Y-you can go back to the loungers, I'll dry myself off and meet you there."

Mammon's response was a confused blink. "But if you're already in the water, I might as well join ya and we'll-"

"N-no!" Camy blurted out with a bit too much force. She immediately gained a worried stare.

"Camy...?"

So she grew sick of hiding those painful feelings. "Look, Mammon, I'm... not confident about my body. I don't like showing much of my body, especially since all you demons seem to be naturally good-looking... It's not that I didn't want to swim with you, it's just... I don't want to torture you with, well, the sight of me."

Her hands were cramped around her waist, and the more Camy spoke, the more she wished to submerge into the water again and never come back. It got even worse when Mammon wouldn't answer for what felt like eternity.

So eventually, Camy turned her narrowed gaze to look at him, only to find an expression of pure disbelief on his face.

"Camy" he finally called out.

"... Yes?"

Then Mammon stretched out his hand. "Come out of the water" he prompted, a sad ring to his tone. "Please" he added when Camy wouldn't react.

"B-but I don't want you to dislike m-"

"Trust me."

Slowly, Camy reached for his hand and got pulled out of the water softly.

She immediately had to endure Mammon's gaze, pressing her own eyes shut to not having to see his disappointment. The next thing she felt, however, was how Mammon's arms wrapped around her.

"S-stupid human" the demon mumbled against her head. His face was painted in the brightest blush as he tried to squeeze all his adoration for her into this hug.

"Mammon..." Camy blinked in surprise. "Y-you shouldn't hug me, I'm-"

"I don't care" he interrupted her. "Whatever it is, cut it. Actually, I should keep hugging ya as a punishment for saying such stupid crap."

The girl felt her eyes tearing up, but as Mammon really did not seem like loosening his embrace any time soon, she sheepishly wrapped her arms around him, too.

They listened to the mellow crashing of the waves, calming down more with every breath.

At some point, Camy felt Mammon shake his head.

"Really now..." He huffed. "I felt something was botherin' ya n' started thinkin' I hurt ya by accident..."

"What? No!" Camy gave him a little squeeze. "You're not the problem. It's just that I feared that you would... you know... be disappointed..."

"Camy" Mammon pulled back to hold her by her shoulders. "I like you the way you are."

They stared at each other until Mammon had to hide his rising embarrassment over his own words. "L-like, I... I think you're beautiful" he mumbled. "A-and...! As long as ya are healthy and happy, th-that's really all that matters, right?"

They hugged once more, partly because Mammon had to hide his face once again. But finally, Camy understood he was meaning it.

"Thank you, Mammon."

He gave a nod. "Make sure ya always remember that! And now... It's time to take another swim!"

With that, he tackled her into the water.

The girl was squealing, all puzzled, but Mammon wouldn't let her escape.

"I promised ya, it would be just us two and the water, right? And the Great Mammon is one to keep his promises!"

And as he grinned at her, Camy looked back with sparkling eyes.

"Yeah" she mused. "That's why you're so great."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #clover's om summer event #obey me mammon #obey me mc #tumblr didnt let me do a cut so long post #also i took the liberty of embedding theee #the mammon imagine in this #it fits well with Camy #i hope you like it

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toukenramblings · 3 years

Text

How To Lose Your Tantous: Gokotai, Shinano Toushirou, Taikogane Sadamune

No collage/artsy thingy this time. This time, you are getting a meme. Warnings: None. I’m funny I swear

The three tantous known as Gokotai, Shinano, and Taikogane have been with you since the beginning. Kiwame or not, these three have stuck by your side since forever and you wanted to thank them for their work. So why not take them to the mall to relax????

The minute you announce that to the trio however, their eyes light up. Sada-chan is already half way out the door and trying to drag you along with him. “Let’s go! What are we waiting for????”

Shinano is a bit more calm but he’s also tugging on your arm, not as hard as Taikogane but enough to be like, “Let’s go! Let’s go! I want to see what’s out there!!!”

Poor Gokotai on the other hand is worried you’ll be torn apart and tries to get them to calm down. Sadly he can’t bring his tiger(s) with him on the day trip but he makes a shy request to hold your hand during the trip. Of course you comply because who the fuck wouldn’t want to hold Gokotai’s hand???????? My baby boi

Of course just as you lot are about to leave, you get accosted by KIkkou, Yagen, Ichigo, Micchan, and Ookurikara.

“If anything happens to my little brother master...well,” Kikkou would say with a smirk, a familiar red rope in his hands. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or anything. But he turns to Taikogane and begins to lecture him, telling him not to give you a lot of trouble.

“You lot be careful. Do keep an eye on my brothers, general.” Yagen would say with a smile. You know he wouldn’t try to threaten you or anything.

“Come back safely!” Micchan would say, having packed snacks for all of you. “Most of all, enjoy yourselves!”

Ookurikara is the one holding back the tiger(s) from following Gokotai outside of the citadel. It hurts Gokotai to be away from them but if Ookurikara is going to take care of them they are in good hands. He won’t say much, he trusts that the four of you will be alright.

And then you lose Sada-chan the minute you arrive at the mall. Taikogane didn’t mean to disappear on you like that! He saw something shiny in the distance and had to follow it! Shinano was hot on his heels though, so at least you know those two are together.

Gokotai refuses to leave your side, still very much holding on to your hand. He swings your arms a little, flushing and stopping when you notice, then asking if it’s okay. If Taikogane and Shinano are back from their shenanigans, you and the other will hold both hands of Gokotai and gently yeet him forward like you do with lil kids!

At this rate you might as well get kiddie leashes for Taikogane and Shinano since they will immediately run off to do whatever the hell they want.

Taikogane will always be on the look out for clothing, trying to look cool and impressive. “What do you think?! Do you like this on me??? I think Micchan will like this too! Oooh maybe I should bring back some clothing for the rest of them! We all can match!”

Shinano loves it when you spoil him, giving you puppy eyes as he points at something, “Can you buy this for me, pleaseeeee? I’ll be good I promise! And I’ll help you carry your bags too!” and then you cave.

Say goodbye to your bank account.

Gokotai on the other hand is much more subdued, when he sees something that he’s interested in he will lightly tug on your sleeve or arm and shyly question, “M-May I go see what that is?” and point at the thingy, then of course he will run off. He won’t go too far, oh no, he will always look over his shoulder to see if you are watching him/if he can still see you.

If you, the saniwa, are short as hell like the rest of them, be prepared for heart attack o’clock, all day every day. It’s hard to see them within a crowd so you will have to shout for them all the time. Shinano is easy to see due to his red hair, Gokotai is smol as fuck so it causes some issues and Taikogane is...somewhat easy to see? Just find him at the most flashy and cool things in the mall, or whatever the hell catches his eye.

Bless everything if you are tall as fuck though. You can see them over everyone and they can see you! They will never get lost if they can see you over everyone! They’ll immediately run back to you and tackle you into a hug (Gokotai is slightly sobbing at this point but it’s okay, just hug him and don’t you dare let him out of your sight every again)

What kind of stores do these boys like? Well, Taikogane will zoom in on anything that catches his eye. Clothing, trinkets, books, games, shiny things, whatever the hell! You’ll have to follow him everywhere though. He gets distracted by everything and you need to keep him on track. Is that one kid who is suddenly found carrying 60 plushies because you turned your back on him ONCE.

Shinano is slightly more controlled than Taikogane but he will also go find things that catch his eye. He’s more into the clothing stories though, finding little jackets and sweaters his brothers could wear! He will want to spoil the younger ones (you and Shinano have to hide any gift for Gokotai though, he’s right there after all, and you want it be a surprise!) and Shinano loves seeing their eyes light up when they get their gift. Of course he might gave and give his present to Gokotai early. Other than clothing stories, I would say Shinano is into little figures. Animals, historical figures, worldly places, who knows? He likes collecting things a lot.

Gokotai will adore bookstores and pet shops. He’ll find new toys and stuff for his tiger(s) and will love to get them a little collar with a bell on it. He likes bells, he honestly thinks that they are nice. As for bookstores, Gokotai would immediately look for fairy tales and books about animals with happy endings. He adores books and even more so when you or someone else offers to read to him! Hell, he even comes into your office with a book of his choice just for you to read to him!

Lord help you if they have an arcade/gaming corner in the mall. Gokotai doesn’t like all of the loud stuff but is enamored by the plushies. He’ll stick close to you while Taikogane and Shinano are trying to kill each other in lazer tag - wait where did they go? Why are those two suddenly bowling? Get back here!

If you have a cellphone with you, be prepared to take pictures of the little ones every 14 seconds. They’re just...so fucking cute. It makes your heart melt and almost sob.

Someone probably mistakes you as their parent or elder sibling. Just to play around, Taikogane and Shinano will call you by a parental term and maybe you’ll start crying right then and there. Just maybe.

Snacks? Snacks. These boys burn through energy so fucking fast so the snacks that Shokudaikiri gave you guys are gone by the second hour of spending time in the mall. Off to the food court you go! They’re willing to try anything new really!

If you happen to have someone you are romantically interested in (especially if one of Shinano’s elder bros or Sada-chan’s bros/other Dategumi) expect these two will casually slip in (not too) subtle hints. “Oh he’ll love this, I swear! Especially if it’s coming from you!” “Oooo, maybe you should give this to him! You know...for no reason.” Gokotai is at least polite about it. “I-I think that this...would make a great gift for someone!”

Lord help anyone who makes one of the tantous cry. Gokotai tripped over air once back at the citadel and you were ready to fistfight God themself. If someone trips over one of your boys or like sneers at them, you will immediately roll up your sleeves and go to town. All three of them have to hold you back but even then it’s a struggle.

By the time you four get home, the car is full of package to the point Gokotai has to sit on Shinano’s lap and all three of them are dead asleep. You need half of the citadel to help you get these damn gifts out of the car and carry the boys back to their room.

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shyrose57 · 3 years

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Brothers anon back with ANGST at the very last question on part 2. Im honestly not positive myself how im gonna fix it. I have ideas but still. Hopefully this isn't to long.

Rans life at Mizu: For Mizu I've changed it a bit, history is still messed up to a point. But other people like Technoblade, Philza, Sam, Foolish, etc are now included with their own rooms. Ran idolized/choose Technoblade to follow. Followers of Technoblade are the only people in the City (expect for guards or police type people, though they also tend to be followers of Techno) that are allowed to freely carry weapons (after the proper training of course). Ran choose Technoblade because he wanted to protect those he loved and he was always interested in the art of fighting. He had two mentors, a women named Alma, she mostly did hand to hand combat and defense training with Ran, while a man named Fermin was a historical teacher, and taught him the history of wars and weapons more indepth than regular classes did. He had quite a few friends, though only a few close friends he often went to play games with or have sleepovers with (if you want angst, Ran was actually the one who discovered two of his friends bodies and had to report them, forcing him to go back a few times to see their bodies). Im pretty sure I mentioned it before but the brothers had a family of 6! Their mom was Ranya and was a 20% enderman hybrid, their dad was Seth and was a normal human, of course you know the brothers, their younger brother (14 years old upon death/a year younger than Ran) was named Lias and was human, and their younger sister was Memi (10 years old upon death) and was human. Ran was close to his parents, often having Ranya read him to bed and riding Seth's shoulders when he was young. He also baby sat Lias and Memi when everyone else was out, also helping them with homework and letting them sleep in his bed when nightmares happened. He loved his family and its when the murders and sabotages started happening did he choose Technoblade as his idol, to protect his family and seem intimating to whoever was doing the sabotages.

1: When the carriage finally stopped Cletus jumped out and faceplanted onto the ground, screaming about how he was finally free and away from all the awkward tension. Grievous, Jackie, and Isaac where all close behind, all having a similar reaction. While Watson, Charles, and Benjamin had a calmer reaction simply walking out and stretching. Ran was the last to get out, and he had to be dragged out by Watson, but he fought being dragged out. He grabbed the edges of the carriage and screamed while being forced out. Ranbob was calmer, and while jumping out he accidentally landed on Grievous, forcing his head back into the dirt, who then let out a muffled shout of alarm before immediately getting up and confronting a nervous and apologetic Ranbob.

3: He isn't the fastest at evaluating a situation, and needs ample time to make decisions. He also isnt the best at understanding emotions at times and sometimes needs a little push in a direction to understand. Also at points he gets into situations he doesnt know how to handle at all, at those times he almost shuts down with overwhelment, and the leadership tends to go to Benjamin for a while during it.

5: Their healing potions, so they work over time, slowly working with the body to heal and regenerate, so they take longer to fully work. Poitions work generally the same (ingredient wise), but theres more steps. For a potion of harming, first you crush up and gently mix in a spiders eye into a Awkward potion, then put it on the brewing stand for 10 minutes, then after the Poison potion is made, you get another spider eye and roll it in sugar cane until the general texture changes into a more wrinkly and powder like texture, then crush that up and mix it into the Poison potion, put it in the brewing stand for at least 30 minutes, then it makes a harming potion. The process its generally the same for all the rest of the potions, though it depends on ingredients and how long they must stand on the brewing stand.

7: I'll try doing that, thank you! Cause Grievous is a lil shit at times and encourages violence as long as its not against him. I know you probably expect a deep answer but thats purely the only reason Grievous encourages it. It depends on what was said to Jackie, if its something that deeply and emotionally hurts Jackie, than he'd likely discourage him, instead comforting him and convincing him if he attacked the person he'll just feel worse. But if its something he knows Jackie can handle, he'll encourage Jackie to beat em up.

8: Watson went almost everywhere, the only places he didn't go was The End, Mushroom Islands, Badlands, Ice Spikes, and Gravel Mountains (he saw them he just didn't wanna go in them), and thats because he never came across them or traveled there. He has a long bamboo that he uses to wack people over the head with when their being idiots, he has a framed nether star fragment that he found in a ruined and abandoned village (he doesnt know what it is he just knows its shiny and cool), he has some fur-lined outfits from the time spent in Tundras, and he has a book where he records locations of interesting formations he found and just a general record of stuff (how much food he has, the season, days until winter, when he should go on a supply run, etc). When Watson still lived as a kid in a village, he often went to watch the blacksmith (also the farmers, clerics, and others) and when he was old enough the blacksmith showed him how to make a multitude of weapons with different materials. And now he pushes the limits of what he's learned from that and over the years to make brand new weapons. And since I'm not sure if you where also asking about Ran, Ran only went to Plains, Covered Forest, Tundra, Savanna, and Tagia biomes. He has a dagger (specifically a Zorlin Shape dagger) that he took off of a hunter when he killed them, has parts of iron armour (shoulder and chest pieces, with the pieces that go on his shins), again some fur-lined clothes from his time in the Tundra, a selfbow, and also has a book similar to Watson's, but his has notes of potion affects,crafting recipes, mobs to avoid, etc. Visiting the nether is not common at all! Infact no vists it expect travelers or people who get hired to go in for potion ingredients and building supplies. Jackie does eventually give up painting, and instead picks up the hobby of annoying people and just training. It actually goes pretty well, there are rules put in place during it to protect them, but other than that its generally the same as the one played in our world. Jackie wants to vist those biomes because he thinks there cool, and thinks their good starting biomes to vist for a beginner adventure. Yep, Ran says its way to dangerous to go to the nether, especially with almost no one knowing how the nether works. Though actually Watson wants to bring the others into the nether, saying its a good learning experience and no one will learn how to survive if they dont go. Ran still agures its too dangerous though, citing the Piglins and Ghasts as evidence, but eventually, after much begging and negotiations, Ran agrees to let them go. They just need to listen to Ran and Watson teach them about the nether and follow everything they say to a T while in the nether.

9: Jackie screamed while being thrown, but after that and a bit of stunned silence, he jumped up and demanded for Ran to throw him again. So he enjoys being thrown, and sometimes he specifically requests to be thrown, so he can curl into a ball and slam into people like a goddamn canon ball. Porkius was also shocked into stunned silence, but after he saw Jackie get back up and demand to be thrown again, he just started bellowing in laughter, you could hear his laughter even echoing a bit outside of the Pit.

10: Then you may be happy to know, but I believe at the end I'll make it so after the brothers have fixed their relationship, their still being haunted by Dream, and eventually the decision gets made to go back to Mizu and face him. Where Dream has actually escaped (Due to a big group coming in, and him being able to convince them to take the Mask with them) so now they have to hunt him down. And when they finally find him you can bet someone (or multiple people) are going to punch him.

12: He does tell the fishermen about these thoughts once, but the fishermen sadly fail at comforting him and changing those thoughts, so he decides to keep it inside and suffer in quite. Though 2 people do see his suffering, Ran and Grievous. Grievous is debating if he should step in and ask what's wrong and if he can help, while Ran just watches (though he does feel some hurt watching his brother suffer, though he denies it).

13: They all had a blast there, Charles showed Jackie how to make flower crowns, then they went and made one for everyone else, Ran just laid in the grass and tried to relax, Ranbob eventually joined in with the flower crowns, Watson was telling Grievous all the meaning of flower colors and what certain flowers stand for, while Isaac and Cletus chased eachother around and eventually got Jackie, Grievous, and Watson involved in a game of chase. They did leave after a General battle, as that was one of the things they had to do for Porkius to approve of them leaving. Porkius still wants them back in less than 5 years, though they can take like a year or 2 longer max. Jackie is technically a general, though the general title he has is specifically only for the Pit matches and instead is more of a like final boss title.

14: Again its very much like a abusive relationship. Ranbob believes Dream has changed because of distant whispers from Dream (only happened while they still lived at the fishermen house which is kinda-close to Mizu) promising he has changed and he truly wants to help Ranbob, and saying how he can help Ranbob be of more use to the fishermen and since Dream did actually help Ranbob at first, he wants to believe him. But once they get futher away from Mizu, the whispers disappear, only rarely appearing in his dreams. Cletus doesn't really help, not because he doesnt care but more because he doesn't know how to help, he knows its a very delicate situation and saying or doing the wrong thing could hurt more than help, so he decided to play it safe. Charles tries to help, though he provides more physical help, like hugs to ground him or showing him how to breath again, while Benjamin and Isaac tackle the more internal issues and do so comfortingly and gently. Making it so Ranbob only notices their actually helping when he starts to do things on his own and no longer has such strong and often urges to return to Dream.

15: One night when Ranbob is off getting firewood and Ran is off checking surroundings to make sure its safe, the Hunters actually get into the camp and holds everyone at sword and bow point. Ran sees them when coming back and actually, though hesitantly, decides to wait for Ranbob to come back. And once Ranbob is back the two make a plan to rescue them, which goes mostly well. Ran gets shot in the stomach and Ranbob gets a sword through his arm, but other than that they do manage to rescue them. Watson jokingly says how they've finally made progress and that they can now work toghere without fighting now, Ran growls at this and storms away, denying it, but Ranbob just nervously shuffles and sits down, letting Charles tend to his wounds, as Jackie chases off after Ran to tend to his wounds. I really want them to stumble across the Wild West ruins and maybe The Masquerade ruins but im not sure how I'll get them to either.

1: Haha, ouch. Poor Ran. Nice backstory though. I can only imagine how he must have felt, coming across those. Does him choosing Techno have anything to do with him choosing to enter the Pit? Also how did Ranbob feel about killing his family? We’ve talked about the guilt about hurting Ran and stuff, but about the ones who weren’t as lucky to escape?

2: That sounds like...a scene. Funny, but probably not until a few days after it happened for the people who actually had to go through it.

3: Is Isaac the type to get overwhelmed easily? But very nice to see Benjamin helping out!

5: So basically just tossing some real life logic in there? Hmm, interesting.

7: Hope it helps! Nope, no deep answer. That’s about what I expected actually. Grievous has that energy, y’know? Also, very sweet of Ran to comfort Jackie. Does he ever get revenge on Jackie’s behalf? He doesn’t strike me as the type to let that go, especially if it actually hurt somebody he cared for. Him otherwise encouraging it..yeah, sounds about right. Gremlin children.

8: Sounds like he’s really been a lot of places! He must know a lot, huh? Also, he just...wack? Cause that’s kind of funny. He watched others beside the Blacksmith? Did he learn anything from them? Ran personally sounds very intimidating. Though if he has potion notes, does he often make them? Is there a particular reason Nether travel is no longer common? Also, would the gang ever happen to stumble across ruins from the time of the Smp? Cause that’d be kind of cool. Jackie’s new hobby sounds very nice, I hope he has fun doing it. How long does it take before Ran deems everyone ready for the Nether? And do the Fishermen also go through, or do they prefer to stick to safer grounds?

9: I bet the first time the fishermen saw that show they were surprised. And honestly, Porkius, I’d laugh too.

10: I am happy to know that! Well, not the escape bit, but the punching, for sure! You go, guys, punch that neon green slimeball!

12: Oh no. Does Grievous ever step in?

13: Sounds like they had a good time, I’m happy for them. And a final boss title? Is Jackie like a final boss? What differs between them fighting as the general, and as a typical gladiator?

14: Hm, that’s not good. What is good is that he’s getting away from Dream’s influence. Did that have anything to do with the group deciding to head to Subbin?

15: Well, progress is progress! Surely it’s a step in the right direction, right?

Also, not really a Brothers AU question, but as you may have noticed, I pinned a post of all the AUs on here, and I was wondering if you’d like me to put yours on there too. Obviously, I’d put it as yours. I wanted to earlier, but I figured it would be better to ask, so tell me your feelings on that.

#Brothers AU #dream smp #dream smp au #tales from mizu #ran #ranbob #watson #jackie #grievous #isaac #cletus #charles #benjamin

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Night At The Opera

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Friendship Characters: Scott, Penelope, Parker, Tracy Family

So this one took forever and is my longest single contribution to @gumnut-logic‘s irrelief so far (’Toffee’ will end up longer but that’s a multichap and this is not). We’re using @darkestwolfx‘s prompt “Any characters (but maybe including Scott) – going to the opera” this time, although there’s not much opera actually in this, whoops.

Thanks to Nutty for helping me out with things to see in Sydney - any errors are my own lack of research, laziness, and the excuse “it’s 40 years in the future, things might have changed” - and how timezones work. I also seem to have transplanted TOS!Penelope’s personality into her TAG counterpart because it fit better, oops.

Surely an invitation to the opera was better suited for Virgil? Or one of his other brothers? No? Okay, then. Wait, what do you mean he had to wear a suit?

Despite reassurances to the contrary, Scott was still fairly sure there’d been a mistake. The invitation may have come from one Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, a woman who most certainly did not make mistakes, but why a ticket to the opera would come for him rather than, say, Virgil – or even Gordon, if he was reading the air between the pair of them correctly – was utterly beyond him. Hell, it was the sort of thing he’d expect her to drag John to, for a bit of social time with no requirement to talk. An opera theatre was not exactly where you’d expect to find Scott Tracy.

An air show was more his speed, preferably as one of the performers. Not sitting in a secluded box for people of importance and expected to sit still and quietly for several hours. In a suit.

“Scott, are you ready?” Grandma rapped on his bedroom door loudly and he jumped, almost dropping the tie he was fidgeting with. “Lady Penelope’s almost here!”

He was almost ready. A crisp sharp grey suit had been dredged out of the dark part of his wardrobe – the area where clothes he disliked hid away, and all suits registered highly on the ‘disliked’ list – and pulled on with extreme reluctance. Cufflinks, silver with diamond studs and in the shape of small planes, had been begrudgingly pulled out of hiding, and additional gel had been called upon to slick his hair back entirely, rather than its usual half wind-swept style.

It all felt stifling, and once the tie went around his neck it would all be complete. The man looking back at him in the mirror was stiff, and it was only years of scoldings from Grandma that stopped him scuffing his shiny shoes on the floor, just to break the perfect gentleman look. Scott was a perfect gentleman, thank you very much. He didn’t need to dress up all fancy for that.

But Lady Penelope had insisted, and when Lady Creighton-Ward insisted, there was very little anyone could do to stop her. Just ask John.

His door hissed open, and he jumped as his grandmother entered the room, her eyes raking him up and down.

“Grandma!” he yelped, scurrying back a step or two and tugging at his jacket sleeves again, just to make sure they were absolutely perfect. The big Three-Oh might be looming in his not too distant future, and he might be the interim commander of International Rescue, but his grandmother could always reduce him to feeling like a child with his hand in the cookie jar with nothing more than a simple look. “What if I was still getting changed?”

She shrugged at him, unconcerned. “I used to change your diapers, kid. It’s nothing new.” She’d also dragged him, battered and bleeding and barely conscious, out of his uniform less than a week prior. He still had the stitches and bandages from the worst wounds, carefully hidden beneath the suit.

Neither of them mentioned that one.

“But I’d say it’s a good thing I came in,” she continued, striding forwards and plucking the tie out of his hands. “You can’t wear this one.” This one was a simple navy tie, plain and unassuming, and therefore Scott’s favourite – if he had a favourite tie. He didn’t. “Honestly, child, you know the man should complement the Lady’s attire.”

She rummaged through his collection, and years of experience led him to back off and just let her do what she wanted. When Grandma got an idea into her head, there was little chance of dissuading her.

“I’m not going as her date,” he protested, though, just to make it clear. As a friend, perhaps, work colleague at worst, but he’d seen the aftermath of Gordon’s jealousy after the charity auction and had no desire to be on the receiving end of it himself. Teasing younger brothers was all well and good until they retaliated with goop and other questionable substances at inopportune moments. John avoided the worst of it by virtue of being on Thunderbird Five, and not even Gordon was willing to ruin his entire rare stays Earthside. As a permanent resident of Tracy Island, Scott had no such escape, and he was fairly sure being the eldest brother meant anything went in their resident prankster’s eyes.

“You’re escorting her, and no grandson of mine will be embarrassing us or her by wearing the wrong colour tie,” Grandma rebuked, finally pulling out a light blue tie and approaching him with it. The height difference was no obstacle to the formidable woman as she slipped it around his neck and tied it with a flourish into a Windsor. “There.” She patted his jacket lapels down before stepping back.

“Lady Penelope’s here,” Virgil said, poking his head in through the door. “Gordon’s drooling worse than Sherbet, just so you know.”

A not insignificant part of Scott had hoped his brothers would be out on a mission when his ‘h’escort’ arrived. The raised eyebrow from Virgil and betrayed pout of Gordon had been bad enough when the tickets had arrived the previous day, and had only increased when Scott had immediately contacted their London Agent to point out the mistake, to be told there was no mistake, Scott, and we’ll be collecting you at four pm tomorrow.

For once, the world was silent, and all four brothers were there, if one holographically, to observe as he somewhat stiffly made his way into the den, where Lady Penelope was waiting in a stunning pale blue evening dress – the exact same colour as his tie; clearly someone had been co-ordinating behind the scenes, and that someone was probably Grandma – and a matching bouquet of lace and faux flowers atop her head that Scott didn’t think deserved the name of ‘hat’, but women’s fashion had never been his strong point.

Gordon was, as Virgil had said, almost entirely oblivious to anything in the room except the blonde woman, although sadly not oblivious enough to miss Scott’s matching tie. Amber eyes narrowed at him and Scott offered them an apologetic smile.

“Scott!” Perfectly manicured fingers caught his arm, Lady Penelope gracefully linking their arms together in a way that made it look like he was in control. It was an illusion – he wasn’t. Gordon’s eyes narrowed further, and Scott made a mental note to attempt to talk him down from whatever revenge he was no doubt plotting as soon as he got back. “You look amazing, dear,” she continued. “Boys, I’ll be borrowing your brother for the evening.”

“By all means.” Virgil was grinning broadly. “You two have fun.”

“Oh, we plan to, Virgil,” Lady Penelope reassured him. “Don’t wait up for him; I’ll bring him back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Scott hadn’t heard that before, and from the strangled noise Gordon made, he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been told that little detail. “But…”

“The performance doesn’t finish until midnight,” Lady Penelope informed him. “I’ve made all the arrangements for the overnight stay, and we’ll have you back here by this time tomorrow.”

“But-”

“No buts, young man,” Grandma cut in, her hand coming to his elbow. Between them, the two women started to steer him down towards the hangar, where Parker and FAB1 were no doubt waiting. “Go and enjoy your downtime.”

Downtime. The thing he’d been on since that mission. That thing he would still be on until Grandma and Virgil decided the stitches could be removed and that he was ready for duty again. Suddenly things started slotting into place.

“See you tomorrow, Scott!” Alan called cheerfully, echoed by Virgil. Gordon made a noise that sounded more like a grunt than words, and Scott decided the best thing to do would be to ignore it as he was led downstairs.

“h’All the bags are packed, M’Lady,” Parker greeted them as he held the door open. Sherbet yipped at them from the back seat. “Shut up, you.” Manners drilled into him by his grandmother indicated that Scott should assist Lady Penelope into the car first, but before he could even make a move, she was slipping off of his arm and sidling all the way across the back seat, scooping Sherbet up in the same fluid movement. “h’After you, Mister Scott, sir.”

With a nod to Parker, and stooping just enough for Grandma to kiss his cheek lightly in farewell, he folded himself into the remaining seat and pulled his seatbelt on.

FAB1 was not a usual Tracy ride. Scott wasn’t familiar with the car like he was their fleet of transportation – both Thunderbirds and regular craft – and had rarely had the opportunity to travel in the pink Rolls-Royce. Much of that was down to his preference to pilot himself places, rather than be a passenger, and being trapped in a suit normally didn’t stop him firmly placing himself in the pilot’s seat of whatever plane was being used.

Grounded for injury as he was, however, the option of piloting had been forcibly removed by the family medics, leaving him with no choice but to recline in the back seat as Lady Penelope gave the order for them to leave the island. Palm trees didn’t show the car the same respect as Thunderbird Two, and stayed rigidly upright as they passed between them, FAB1’s flight mode engaging with plenty of time to spare before they ran out of runway.

The car was, for obvious reasons, not as fast as his usual rides. Even the regular aircraft they kept for official non-IR business went faster than Parker was currently going, and Scott quickly found the expanse of water passing below them monotonous. No doubt Gordon would find it fascinating, if he could tear his eyes away from Lady Penelope, but Gordon wasn’t here and water wasn’t Scott’s preferred view.

“Are you sure you didn’t mean Virgil or Gordon?” he asked, glancing over at the woman beside him.

“Quite sure,” she confirmed. Sherbet let out another yip and jumped onto his lap, demanding to be petted. Scott acquiesced, running a hand over short coarse fur to the pug’s obvious pleasure. “I’m aware that the opera house is not your usual preference, but your family agreed that a change of scene would be good for you.”

“Even Gordon?” he asked, and was surprised to see a hint of colour in her cheeks.

“Gordon was not involved in the discussion,” she admitted. “It was mainly your Grandmother and John, although I believe Virgil also had some input.”

Why did that not surprise Scott in the slightest?

“Of course it was,” he sighed.

“How are your injuries?” she inquired, and he winced.

“Healing,” he evaded. She didn’t press further, not that she needed to. No doubt Grandma had filled her in on exactly what injuries he had and therefore situations to avoid until they were healed. As it happened, sitting down for extended periods of time was one of the few things he could do under her instruction. No doubt the opera would fit the bill precisely.

Small talk was not Scott’s preference, but Lady Penelope was a master of the art. Coaxed into discussions about his brothers and the newest GDF fliers, the journey to Sydney passed quickly. The fact that it was four pm when they arrived might have thrown Scott at one point, but jetting all over the world daily had long since dulled him to timezone changes and, thankfully, jet lag.

“I’ve secured reservations for dinner in our hotel,” Lady Penelope informed him as FAB1 gently set down on tarmac and folded in her wings, returning to the usual form of a regular, if expensive car. “The performance begins at nine, but the doors open at seven thirty.”

“You really have this all planned out, don’t you?” he asked, thoroughly unsurprised. She smiled and gestured towards the opera house, now visible as they headed towards it.

“’Ere we are, M’Lady, Mr Scott,” Parker said, pulling FAB1 to a gentle stop outside a hotel. It was suitably lavish for Lady Penelope’s accommodations, no doubt five star with a three star restaurant nestled inside. Diamond-studded cufflinks fit right in, and Scott viewed it with some trepidation as Parker opened the door for him. Cars were not designed for long-legged Tracys to be in for any length of time – one of the many reasons Scott adored Thunderbird One was her unlimited legroom on longer flights – and it took him a moment to straighten fully, by which time Lady Penelope had materialised on his arm.

“Shall we?” He sent a glance back at where Parker was opening FAB1’s deceptively large boot to reveal their overnight bags. “Parker will take care of the bags, Scott,” Lady Penelope assured him, and without waiting for a reply began to steer him into the building.

The interior matched the exterior, marking this as a hotel clearly aimed at the upper class upon their visits to the Opera House. Holograms gave him a changing view of the Opera House itself through the years, its iconic silhouette particularly striking in dusk views in Scott’s opinion. Undeterred by the lavish interior, Lady Penelope whisked him through to the desk, where Parker had already materialised, bags in tow, to claim both room keys.

It was easy to forget, with Parker’s h’attitude and ‘misspent youth’, that he was perfectly competent in his primary role as butler and chauffeur to the Creighton-Ward estate. Watching him in what should be an arena far outside his status – one that felt far outside Scott’s, despite the fact that he was, in fact, a multi-billionaire – never ceased to amaze Scott, who was content to let the Brits whisk him through the foyer, through some glass elevators and into a large suite with too many chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Through one open room he caught sight of a king sized bed.

Lady Penelope didn’t bother asking him if it was good enough for him – she had, once upon a time, but Scott was fairly sure she’d got fed up of being told the various rooms she found for them were excessive and now just swept them up in the extravagance and expected them to appreciate it, or at least have the good grace not to comment unprompted. Scott had learnt that lesson, too.

Still the suite was a far cry from sharing a bedroom with two brothers in a small house in Kansas, and while Scott was getting used to being dragged to such places, he still preferred to stay more down to earth. Not having to share with a brother was enough for him (sure, he loved his brothers, but personal space was nice, too).

He was abandoned with his luggage – luggage he had not packed, so he had no idea what was in it and prayed that the person responsible had packed something comfortable and not just another suit – while Parker showed Lady Penelope to her own quarters next door. Parker had told him not to touch his luggage and that he would be back soon to unpack for him, but Scott had never had a butler and no intentions of starting now.

His stitches pulled worryingly as he picked the case up and he froze. Tearing stitches and bleeding through bandages was always a nuisance, but in the stuffy suit he’d been coerced into, it would be an utter nightmare.

“h’I told you not to, Mr Scott.” Suddenly Parker was there, whisking the case out of his grip and making a beeline for the bedroom. “Your gran would ‘ave my ‘ead h’if you tore your stitches ‘ere. M’Lady, too.” Scott winced and followed him.

“At least let me unpack my own clothes,” he said, jumping in as the case opened and Parker started to pull clothes out of it – oh joy, another suit. Why? It was only one evening!

“You ‘ave h’one ‘our h’until the restaurant reservation,” Parker informed him, subtly blocking his attempts to get at his own clothes. “M’Lady h’expects you to take a walk h’around the garden with ‘er.” The older man had Scott hustled out of his own quarters before he even realised what was happening.

Lady Penelope emerged from her room at the same time, and Scott had known her far too long to even entertain the notion that it was coincidental. He didn’t bother to comment on it, allowing her manicured talons to curl around his bicep once more as she left her room key with Parker – who had never even let Scott touch his – and swept back towards the elevator, Tracy firmly in tow.

“The gardens are delightful at this time of year,” she informed him as though this was his first time in Sydney. Admittedly, it wasn’t a place he’d visited much, and when he had been there, the scenery was usually the last thing on his mind. “We shall visit them properly tomorrow, but a short stroll will do us both wonders after our journey.”

Not one to turn down fresh air at any point, Scott was willing to step outside the rear entrance of the hotel – just as grand as the front – onto neatly manicured lawns. Beyond them, the botanical garden loomed, with its trees in full bloom. Neither of them wore shoes designed for walking on grass – or far at all, in the case of Lady Penelope’s heels, although Scott knew she could do a lot more in them than appearances implied – so they restrained themselves to the paths.

It was certainly easier terrain than Tracy Island boasted. The rocky, volcanic island had been chosen precisely for being remote and inhospitable, allowing them to train in secrecy, but it lent itself less well to the walking injured. Not that Scott considered himself walking wounded, but Grandma and Virgil both did, and restricted his permitted movements accordingly. To that end, he admitted it was good to get away from the island and the worried smothering of his family for a few hours.

The company certainly didn’t hurt, either. Scott had a lot of respect for Lady Penelope, but thanks to their respective lines of work and commitment, rarely got to spend any time with her. There was also the constant worry of the paparazzi and rumours of more than just friendship flying, what with them both being filthy rich heirs and famous (even if Scott was technically not an heir anymore), but if Lady Penelope had proposed the visit, then that angle was certainly being taken care of. Kayo had been suspiciously absent over the last couple of days with no real reason given, and Scott chose to believe she was working some magic somewhere. After all, if his sister was on the case, nothing unwanted would be leaked – and even if it somehow got past her, there was John ready with a digital nuke.

He’d pulled that one before, more than once. It had proven very useful, even if its legality wasn’t even debatable and the GDF were turning an obliging blind eye to the fact that sometimes information just vanished. Or they plain hadn’t noticed; that was also possible, although Scott liked to think Colonel Casey was a little more observant than that.

Their hour in the comfortably warm Sydney sun passed quickly. Scott wasn’t the best at keeping track of time, relying on John for that when it was important, but Lady Penelope seemed to have a built-in pocket watch because they wandered into the restaurant at precisely one minute to five to be seated by a waiter in a sharp pressed suit who held out a seat for Lady Penelope and himself before Scott could even grasp the back of his own chair. Scott prided himself on his quick reflexes; serving staff were truly in a class of their own. His injuries weren’t slowing him that much, although he ruefully noticed that after an hour’s easy stroll the act of sitting down was appreciated by his body.

Maybe he did need the break from rescues, not that he’d be admitting that to anyone any time soon. Sharp blue eyes followed his every moment, but Lady Penelope had enough tact to keep her observations to herself, so Scott wasn’t unduly concerned about her.

Eating at a three star restaurant was far from Scott’s usual fare, and he left handling the waiter entirely to Lady Penelope. The idea that they’d be attending the opera later that evening didn’t phase him in the slightest as he offered them a shorter menu that would allow plenty of time for the final course to settle before they made their way towards the Opera House, and while Scott hoped that three star did not mean food arranged in an overly fancy manner but with very little actually on the plate – there was a lot of him to feed, especially in comparison to the delicate form of the Lady opposite him – he agreed with Lady Penelope’s assertion that that would be perfect, thank you.

It took some dredging up of strict lessons on dining etiquette when he was younger and Dad was making his first millions from the depths of his memory, but Scott was quite pleased with himself for not committing a faux pas during the meal. The portions had been small, as he’d feared, but still filling enough that he thought he could probably survive an evening of opera. Which, now that it had sunk in that it really was him going and not one of his brothers, didn’t seem all that terrible an idea. After all, he could appreciate good music – it was impossible to live with Virgil and not, although Alan was doing a good job at it, but that was teenagers for you – he just rarely had time to.

Time was something he had been rather forcibly given, courtesy of a rescue that had felt perfectly successful to Scott – no-one died, after all – barring an inconvenient injury that had him just coming out of forced bedrest. His family were rather unfortunately more influenced by the so-called ‘cost’ of the rescue – a fair bit of Scott’s blood, an unexpected nap for a few hours and a dozen stitches – than the success. So maybe he’d given them a fright when he’d collapsed out of his ‘bird and narrowly missed getting splattered on his own ‘bird’s hangar floor when he didn’t quite land square on the extended access ramp (apparently – he didn’t remember that bit but John was insistent), but that was nearly a week ago and he was fine now.

Well, near enough, he mentally amended as he stood up from the table and his stitches tugged threateningly again.

“Come on, dear,” Lady Penelope tutted, once more scooping his bicep into her grip and guiding him out of the room and… back upstairs? “We’re a little behind schedule, so you’ll have to get changed quickly. Parker should have your new outfit laid out for you already.”

“Get changed?” Scott looked down at his crisp suit. “Why?”

“We’re two of the richest people in Sydney right now,” she said, as though that should mean something. “Being seen in public in the same outfit twice just won’t do. Don’t worry, I’m sure Mrs Tracy has found something you’ll be comfortable in.”

Suits and comfortable were two words that did not go together, but Lady Penelope was a force to be reckoned with and subtly manhandled him into his own suite before vanishing into her own, neighbouring suite.

“There you h’are!” Parker exclaimed, ushering him forwards. To Scott’s chagrin, there was indeed another suit laid out for him. “h’I’m under h’orders from your gran to check your stitches, so h’off with those.” He gestured at the suit Scott was still wearing, and he cringed.

“Do we have to go through all this fuss, Parker?” he asked.

“h’Oh yes, Mr Scott. ‘Er Ladyship’s changing ‘er dress and h’I wouldn’t want to be the h’one to make M’Lady look bad by not wearing the right clothes, h’if you catch my drift.”

Scott did catch his drift. That didn’t mean he liked it, but both Lady Penelope and his grandmother were terrifying women when they wanted to be, and upsetting them would lead to nothing good.

There was some glee in getting rid of the tie, too, even if it was only going to be replaced by a black bow tie, by the looks of it.

According to tradition, stereotypes, and everything else, women took forever to get ready. But by the time Parker was satisfied his stitches were as they should be and got him into the new suit – a light blue waistcoat over a white shirt underneath the navy jacket, and matching trousers – Lady Penelope was waiting for him. Her dress was almost the same colour as before, but in a different cut and with a different assortment of lace and fabric perching on top of perfectly coiffed blonde curls.

“You look fantastic, dear,” she informed him as he escaped Parker and his lint brush. “Are we ready?” A matching clutch purse occupied one of her hands, but the other resumed its default position of curling around his bicep and guided him back towards the elevator.

Even amongst other ridiculously rich people in their suits, Scott felt overdressed as he pretended to escort Lady Penelope, who was very much actually escorting him, to the doorway as Parker vanished, only to reappear in FAB1 by the time they left the building. Scott had no idea how the man did it, but it was a relief to slip into the pink car and away from any watching eyes. He was conscious that he wasn’t at his best, and had no real desire to advertise to the world that the interim commander of International Rescue was injured. The suit did its job well and hid the bandaging, but Scott couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that everyone looking at him could see.

At least at the opera no-one would be looking at him.

Getting into the Opera House, however, required once again walking in front of crowds. A pink car drew attention, even in front of a spectacular building like the Sydney Opera House, and as Parker assisted first Scott, and then Lady Penelope out there was the tell-tale flash of photography. Scott hoped Kayo and John were on top of that.

“h’I shall be ‘ere when you come h’out, M’Lady, Mr Scott,” Parker said as Lady Penelope once again positioned herself on Scott’s arm.

“Thank you, Parker,” she said.

“He’s not coming in?” Scott asked, surprised, as they made their way inside. Behind them, FAB1 drove away.

“The opera isn’t Parker’s style,” she answered, flashing their tickets at the assistant, who promptly called for someone to lead them to their box. “He’ll find his own entertainment for a few hours.”

“Doing what?”

“Oh, I’m sure I don’t know.” Scott knew a conversation end when he heard one; whatever her butler was up to, Lady Penelope knew and had no intentions of sharing. Then again, considering Parker’s so-called ‘misspent youth’, ignorance was probably a good idea. Having four younger brothers had taught Scott the value of plausible deniability long ago.

They were ushered into a small box, high above the stage, with enough room for four people to seat comfortably. Only two chairs had been set up, however, leaving Scott with the relief that he wouldn’t be sat with strangers for several hours. Lady Penelope chose her seat, sitting down elegantly and looking entirely at ease in the velvet-lined chair, with her no doubt several-thousand-pound dress (Scott had no idea if it was actually a British dress) arrayed around her without so much as a crease wrong.

In comparison, Scott felt decidedly ill at ease as he sank into the surprisingly comfortable chair in his own far too expensive suit, leaning back until he found a position where the stitches didn’t complain. The box had ample leg room even for a man over six foot in height, and Scott took full advantage of the fact that the box was almost impossible to see into, even if anyone wanted to people-watch instead of opera-watch, to stretch out his long legs.

There wasn’t even as much as a tut from his companion, and in slight surprise he looked over to her to see a smile gracing her face.

“You may as well be comfortable,” she agreed, although she remained prim in her posture.

“What about you?” he asked, and she laughed lightly.

“I’ve been taking posture lessons since before I could walk,” she reminded him. “This is perfectly comfortable for me, but thank you for your concern.” Pacified, Scott relaxed and turned his attention to the stage below them.

It was empty, the show still not due to start for another hour, according to the holographic interface on the inside of their box, ticking down the minutes until the show began. 00:59:01 ticked down to 00:59:00 and then so on, counting it down to the second.

It had been a long time since Scott had last been to the opera, or any stage performance – was it normal to have the timing of the start down to the second?

“Not everywhere,” Lady Penelope told him when he asked. “But Sydney Opera House is one of the best in the world, and when you’re the best, the timing is expected to be precise.” Scott could respect that; enough air show routines had been down to the millisecond for him to appreciate the importance. He just hadn’t expected to find it in an opera.

Lady Penelope picked up a pair of what looked like miniature binoculars and raised them to her eye delicately.

“Shall we see who’s in the crowd tonight?” she mused, training the lenses at the not-box seating below.

“Using binoculars?” Scott asked, glancing down to see many men in stuffy suits and women in fancy dresses. “Really?”

“Opera glasses, Scott, they’re called opera glasses. And of course. They have fantastic levels of magnification. Oh, that poor woman – whoever told her salmon and lemon work together like that?”

Scott blinked, lost at the sudden change in conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to put lemon on fish?” he asked, only for Lady Penelope to turn her head and stare at him for a moment, before shaking her head lightly.

“The colours, Scott, not the food. See that woman sat in the third row?”

He squinted, and she tutted before handing him the binoculars – opera glasses. Reluctantly he raised them to his eyes and peered through.

“The one dressed in pink and yellow?” he asked, finally locating someone who might have fit the vague description.

“The colours are salmon and lemon,” Lady Penelope corrected. “But yes, her. See how the lemon overpowers the salmon? It makes her complexion look quite ill. I dare say she’s wearing the wrong undertone foundation as well.”

“The wrong what?” He supposed the woman in question did look a little off colour.

“Undertone foundation,” she repeated. “The undertone of the foundation is important; using the wrong one ensures that even if you have the perfect hue, it won’t match your complexion properly.”

“If you say so,” he said dubiously, beyond relieved that Kayo barely wore any make-up to his knowledge, and didn’t expect him to know anything about it anyway. Then again, knowing Kayo her lipstick – lipgloss? Lip-thing – was probably modelled after that one Batman villain’s and was toxic.

“I do,” she said, shooting him a quick smile. “Your turn.”

“What?”

“Pick someone,” she explained, gesturing at the ever-increasing numbers finding their way to seats below. “We’re people watching.”

Scott gaped at her.

“Isn’t that supposed to be rude?” he asked, gesturing at the opera glasses they both held.

“Everyone does it.” She brushed his complaints off. “See, in the box opposite; the light just glinted off of their opera glasses.”

“But why?”

“It’s interesting,” she smiled. “And also good practice.”

Good practice for what, Scott managed to stop himself from asking, finally remembering that he was at an opera house with one of the best spies in the world. “So I just… pick someone?” he asked instead, beginning to scan the crowds with more intent.

“Anyone,” she confirmed, just as his gaze was caught by a teenage boy who clearly didn’t want to be there. He reminded Scott of Alan, for all that this teenager was a redhead and shorter than his brother. Lady Penelope laughed when he mentioned it, before finding him with her own opera glasses and agreeing.

People watching was surprisingly fun, once Scott got the hang of it, and found himself caught out when the lights dimmed and the stage was lit in spotlight. The holographic countdown declared 00:00:28 when he glanced at it, and following Lady Penelope’s lead he focused his opera glasses on the stage, where at precisely nine pm, the show began.

And at precisely midnight, three hours of singing and a short interlude where refreshments had been offered (and devoured by a hungry Tracy), the final note cut off, accompanied by the lights, plunging the entire room into darkness. The applause was genuine, if at a polite volume, echoing through the darkened arena. Scott was more than happy to join in, having enjoyed the performance more than he’d expected.

It was even worth being stuffed into a suit for several long hours, although he’d keep that part quiet from his brothers. He had something of a reputation to uphold, after all, and as much as he’d enjoyed it, it was probably still more Virgil’s thing.

The main lights slowly brightened, and Scott stretched his legs out. Even with the leg room, the lack of actually moving had stiffened his muscles up somewhat.

“So how long do we stay here?” he asked, looking at Lady Penelope only to find her already on her feet.

“No longer than necessary,” she quipped, holding a hand out to him. “How are you feeling?” It was only the second time she’d referenced his injury all day, and Scott found that after the opera he was feeling slightly more charitable towards it being mentioned. No doubt an anticipated reaction from the short woman with him.

“I’m not designed to sit still for several hours,” he shrugged, accepting her hand and hauling himself to his feet, ignoring the familiar twinge of a healing wound.

“No, I don’t suppose you are,” she agreed. “But you enjoyed the evening?” He smiled down at her as her hand once again found his bicep.

“More than I thought I would,” he admitted. “Thank you for this.”

“What are friends for?”

Parker was waiting for them, as promised, when they left the building, draping a thin fur coat over Lady Penelope’s shoulders as they were exposed to the slightly cooler midnight air.

“Thank you, Parker,” she said, gliding effortlessly into the back of her car and picking up a sleeping Sherbet – who Scott had seen surprisingly little of since their arrival in Australia, now that he thought about it. “I trust you had a successful evening?”

“h’Oh yes, M’Lady,” Parker responded gleefully as Scott got in and shut the door behind him. “Most successful.”

“Successful?” Scott asked, and Parker laughed.

“Those ‘ooligans down at the casino never knew what ‘it ‘em, Mr Scott, sir. H’It’s h’always worth taking them folk down a peg h’or two, h’if you catch my drift.”

So Parker had been cheating cheaters out of their scammed earnings while they were gone. Scott supposed that wasn’t surprising; Parker made no real secret that his underground skills remained sharp – indeed, all of the Tracys could cheat their way around cards, in no small part thanks to tricks taught to them by the butler himself.

“Well, it’s been a long day, especially with all those timezone changes, so I think I’ll turn in for the night when we get back to the hotel,” Lady Penelope said. “I’d like to see the botanical gardens properly and I did promise to get you back to your brothers by four pm Tracy Island time tomorrow, so that will mean an early start, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mind getting up early,” Scott assured her as they arrived, and she smiled.

“Then I’ll see you for a seven o’clock breakfast?”

“Do I have to wear a suit?” She laughed.

“I’ll have Parker pick a less formal one out for you,” she promised, and Scott groaned. “Sorry, dear, but this hotel has standards, and your usual attire doesn’t quite cut it.”

Parker caught up with them before they even reached the elevator, FAB1 parked away safely for the night, and Scott wondered if he and Lady Penelope were that slow, or if Parker was that fast.

“Seven am,” Lady Penelope repeated as they reached his room, and Scott agreed. Parker opened the door for him with a “h’I’ll see you h’in a moment, M’Lady”, and followed him inside.

“h’Another stitches check, h’I’m h’afraid, Mr Scott,” he said, and Scott rolled his eyes but submitted to it with minimal protest, glad to get out of the formal clothes and, once Parker was well and truly dismissed for the night, a third suit glaring at him accusingly from where the butler had laid it out, finally into something properly comfortable for bed.

Crossing timezones tended not to bother him after so long in International Rescue, but without the adrenaline rush of a rescue he found himself wearier than he would usually be at midnight. He glanced at his communicator, which he’d discovered packed in the bottom of his case, and debated calling John for a chat before remembering the time difference. Even if John probably wasn’t asleep, Scott should not be encouraging bad sleeping habits in his brothers. The same went for the rest of them, and he had no idea where Kayo was, so contacting his family was dismissed for the moment and he sank into the soft mattress of the huge bed gratefully, only for a spike of pain to warn him that if he wanted to sleep through the night, he should take the next dose of painkillers – also packed without his knowledge, most likely by Grandma or Virgil.

Pills were thrown back with an accompaniment of Australian spring water from the minibar, and then he crawled back into bed. Sleep claimed him almost immediately.

The next morning came quickly, Scott’s internal clock disturbing him at six. He didn’t need an hour to get ready for breakfast, even if getting ready included pulling on another suit, but going back to sleep would be an exercise in futility if he wanted to be on time for breakfast.

Spying his communicator again, the timezone now worked in his favour. Six am in Sydney was a more sociable hour on Tracy Island, and he’d hooked up a line to Thunderbird Five before he’d finished considering doing it.

“Morning, Scott,” John greeted him immediately. “How was last night?”

“I could have done without the suits,” Scott admitted, rolling over onto his back. “But it wasn’t bad.” John, a brother well versed in the pains of being chosen as Lady Penelope’s arm decoration, gifted him a small smile.

“I know the feeling,” he agreed. “Are you still in bed?”

“Yup.” Scott popped the ‘p’ and made a show of stretching out, even if John could only see his head and shoulders. “Big bed. Nice bed. Comfy bed. I have an hour ‘til breakfast. There’s time.”

“Scott Tracy being lazy; I never thought I’d see the day,” John commented, and Scott scowled at him.

“I have to wear another suit for breakfast, John. For breakfast!”

“So you’re procrastinating getting dressed by calling me,” his brother surmised.

“Can’t I check on how my brothers are doing?” he asked maybe a little defensively, raising an eyebrow.

“You could, except you haven’t asked yet.” Pesky smart younger brothers.

“I’m asking now.” John raised an eyebrow at him in return, but humoured him.

“Everyone’s fine; they had a late-night rescue but that went fine, no injuries. Does mean they’re all still in bed, though.”

“Even Gordon?” It was a very tired squid that didn’t surface with the sun, regardless of what time he went to bed.

“Even Gordon, luckily for you.”

Scott blinked.

“Luckily for me?”

“The usual rumours aren’t flying around, but there are still pictures of the two of you going to the opera last night on the net. The less time between him seeing those, and seeing you, the less time he has to scheme.” Scott groaned.

“Can’t you just get rid of them?” he asked.

“It looks more suspicious if I delete everything regarding the two of you,” John told him. “All of the captions refer to you as friends or work colleagues, though. Kayo and I made sure of that.”

“Thanks.” Well, it was better than nothing, he supposed. His eyes fell on the suit Parker had laid out for him the previous evening and he groaned. “I’d better get up,” he grumbled, glaring at it. “I’m supposed to be meeting her at seven for breakfast and I want a shower first.”

“Watch your stitches.”

“Yes, Virgil.”

John chuckled. “See you later, big brother.” His hologram vanished, and Scott set aside the communicator before reluctantly leaving the bed and heading for the ensuite.

Showering with stitches was always a nuisance; they were old enough to get slightly damp without consequences, but it was still annoying to have to mind them. Still, the wound was getting better and Scott was cautiously optimistic that he’d be allowed back on duty soon – he’d have cleared himself a few days ago, but Grandma and Virgil called had that ‘nonsense’ when he’d suggested it.

Dried off, he left the room with a fluffy towel around his waist to find Parker standing there, already perfectly dressed for the day.

“Morning, Mr Scott,” he said, seemingly unfazed by the fact that Scott was wearing nothing but a towel. “h’I’ve been h’asked to check your stitches h’again before you get dressed.” Scott snatched at his underwear and beat a hasty retreat back into the ensuite to pull them on.

“Give me a minute, Parker!”

From the timing, he heavily suspected this occasion to be John’s fault, and made a mental note to complain at him later.

Parker’s presence did not vanish after the stitches check, the butler instead insisting on helping Scott with his suit and tie – a pale pink one, this time, not that Scott had known he owned one in that colour – and piling on the hair gel when Scott attempted to return to his usual style.

“Aren’t you supposed to be Lady Penelope’s butler?” Scott asked as the man wrestled the comb away from him and made him sit.

“’er Ladyship h’is less of h’a disaster when h’it comes to dressing ‘erself for the h’occasion,” Parker retorted, and Scott groaned.

“You’re not exactly aristocrat class yourself, either,” he pointed out, slumping forwards until a light jab in the back made him straighten up.

“h’I learnt from the best, Mr Scott,” the older man retorted. “h’And you should respect your h’elders.”

“Right, sorry.” There was a large mirror on the wall opposite, and Scott watched his transformation back into the perfect rich gentleman with a small amount of despair as Parker added one last dollop of hair gel, combed it in, and pronounced himself satisfied.

The clock proclaimed 06:57, and with no small amount of gratitude to his father for not employing an army of servants and putting him through that rigmarole every day, despite reaching billionaire status, Scott left his room to meet up with Lady Penelope – dressed in a pale pink to match his tie, as Scott had suspected – for breakfast.

It had always been drilled into Scott that breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and it was clear that the Australians agreed. Unlike the previous evening of small plates of food arranged artistically, breakfast was a far more hearty affair, much to the delight of Scott’s stomach. Lady Penelope offered an amused smile as he dug in.

“A change from your grandmother’s cooking?” she asked, daintily picking at her smaller breakfast.

“Definitely,” he agreed, and they both laughed. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Nothing much, I’m afraid,” she said. “The time difference between here and your home works against us this time, so we’ll only have time to visit the gardens before we have to leave.”

“Do I have to get changed again?” he asked, and she smiled.

“No, I think we can spare you the trauma of a fourth suit,” she laughed, and Scott relaxed, finishing off his plate with gusto and draining his coffee. “Shall we go?”

“What about our rooms?” he asked. “Don’t we need to check out?”

“Parker has that all in hand,” she assured him. “I just need to collect Bertie from him, and then I’ll be ready for our walk.”

“Sherbet’s coming with us?” Scott asked, somewhat surprised. After the lapdog’s absence from everything the day before, he’d expected him to remain in Parker’s care.

“Of course,” Lady Penelope told him, correcting his assumption. “Bertie loves going out for walks.”

Well, Scott had no particular issue with the small dog, so he had no complaints about the additional companion as Parker materialised outside the restaurant, dog in arms and ready to be handed over to his mistress.

“We’ll be back by midday,” Lady Penelope informed him as she took her dog, Sherbet making contented little noises as he settled into her arms. “If you could arrange a packed lunch for our journey back that would be appreciated.”

“Yes, M’Lady. h’Enjoy your walk.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will. Shall we, Scott?” With her arms full of dog, there was no subtle grip on his arm, but Scott remembered the way out of the hotel well enough from the previous day, and it took very little time for them to leave the building and end up back in the manicured lawns of the hotel’s garden.

Unlike the previous day, they didn’t stick to the lawns, but headed towards the trees and other fantastic flora visible in the botanical gardens themselves. Unsurprisingly, despite the relative earliness of the day, there were already some people milling around, admiring the flowers. An unspoken agreement had the pair avoiding them, seeking somewhere more quiet after the previous evening.

The gardens were huge, however, and it was simple enough to slip past the other admirers of nature to find a quieter area.

“A nice change from your usual atmosphere,” Lady Penelope observed, and Scott laughed, thinking of noisy brothers and roaring engines.

“Less chaos, for sure,” he agreed, “a few less rocks, too.” While Tracy Island had some greenery, it was at its heart a volcanic outcrop – great for challenging exploring but not so much for casual strolls to admire nature.

If he didn’t know Lady Penelope as well as he did, he might have thought that she was picking her route at random through the large area. High heels did nothing to stop the woman from finding the less even paths amongst the trees and higher shrubs, and while she was not walking with purpose, she was steering him slowly in a single direction.

Their eventual destination, after an hour or so of very casual walking, turned out to be a carved seat, overlooking the harbour. Lady Penelope sat herself down on it gracefully, gesturing for Scott to join her. Sherbet yapped as he did so, wriggling out of his owner’s grip and landing on Scott’s lap, looking up at him expectantly. Relaxing back against the sandstone, he scratched the dog behind the ears.

Underneath the shade of the trees, protected from the Australian sun, it was easy to relax and watch the ships manoeuvring in and out of the harbour. Scott couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d just sat and watched the world go by – usually, he was having to chase after it in a Thunderbird as disasters struck, or there was the endless paperwork to juggle. With both Thunderbird and paperwork strictly forbidden and out of reach, and a very determined Lady beside him, he’d been left with very little choice and found it was actually quite peaceful.

Was this what John saw, when he got a break from calls? Maybe he should ask him about that at some point. Birds sang overhead, and a light breeze ruffled the leaves above him, although not quite strong enough to free his hair from its heavily gelled confines. For the first time in a long time, Scott just let himself exist in the moment.

“As lovely as it is here, we must be heading back.” Lady Penelope’s voice broke the silence suddenly, and Scott was startled to discover more than an hour had passed. “I would like to keep my promise to your family, so we do need to leave Sydney by midday.”

Scott could just imagine the fuss if he wasn’t back by then – not because they didn’t completely trust Lady Penelope and Parker, but because the pair had a reputation for arriving where they said, when they said. It would take more than having a single Tracy guest to delay them. A delay would be concerning, to say the least.

Still, it was with some reluctance that he found his feet again, brushing his back off and hiding a wince as painkillers decided they’d done their duty and had worn off at some point while he was distracted. Blue eyes focused on him, but Lady Penelope didn’t comment. She did, however, scoop Sherbet up with only one arm, linking her other through with his. Scott knew better than to refuse the silent aid, if only because it was Lady Penelope, and let her guide him back towards the direction of the hotel and the waiting Parker.

It was just before midday when they arrived, Penelope sliding into the car before Scott joined her.

“h’I h’obtained some sandwiches for you, M’Lady, Mr Scott,” Parker informed them as he lowered the travel table in the back of the driver’s seat and placed the paper plates laden with said sandwiches on it. “There are drinks h’in the cup ‘olders. h’I ‘ope that’ll do?”

“Indeed they will, thank you, Parker,” Lady Penelope assured him.

“Mr Scott, h’I took the liberty h’of putting your painkillers and some water h’in the door,” he continued, and Scott spotted them.

“Thanks,” he said, and reluctantly fished them out as the car began to move, trundling through the streets before the wings engaged and they lifted into the air.

Parker was no stranger to the appetite of the Tracy family – or the lack of cooking ability exhibited by their grandmother – and the sandwiches turned out to be numerous enough to keep Scott quite content as they flew over the ocean, back towards Tracy Island and the brothers that were no doubt waiting for him, provided they weren’t out on another rescue.

Sure enough, Thunderbird Two was still happily in her hangar when FAB1 trundled in at precisely four o’clock, according to the communicator Scott had strapped back to his wrist, uncaring of whether or not it belonged there while he was in a suit.

Also there was Virgil, who left his tools at the sight of them and hollered a call of “they’re back!” into his comm as he jogged over to the car. Gordon immediately tore into view, clearly having been waiting as much as doing maintenance on Module Four, and in an echo of twenty four hours previous immediately zeroed in on Scott’s tie, which matched Lady Penelope’s current dress perfectly.

“Lady Penelope, you look amazing!” he gushed, almost knocking Scott out of the way in his haste to help the woman out of the car. Sherbet yipped at him and the aquanaut flinched backwards, to Scott’s amusement.

“How are you?” Virgil asked Scott, drawing his attention to his dark haired brother as worried brown eyes looked him up and down.

“I’m fine, Virgil,” he assured him. “You can ask Parker if you don’t believe me.” Virgil had an annoying habit of never believing the words ‘I’m fine’, for some reason.

“Parker?” his brother immediately asked, and Scott sighed, drifting away as the questions about his health started again. An entire day of not being treated like a patient had been a welcome break. Unfortunately, that put him in Gordon’s line of sight, as Kayo materialised and headed straight for Lady Penelope, elbowing the blond out of the way.

Amber eyes looked him up and down in an echo of Virgil’s, only there was less worry and more scrutiny in the gaze before Gordon locked eyes with him.

“Gordon-” he started, hoping to head off whatever storm was headed his way, but Gordon interrupted him with a raised hand.

“Uh, uh.”

And then he was tackled in a hug, Gordon’s arms carefully avoiding his stitches.

“Gordon?”

“I’m still not happy you got to go and I didn’t,” his brother grumbled. “But you look better than you have all week, so it was obviously for a good cause.”

“I- thanks?”

“But the next date is mine,” Gordon added, glowering up at him. “Got it?”

“That’s not my call to make,” Scott admitted, as much as he’d like to say ‘yes’ just to get Gordon off his case. “The only one who gets to decide that is her.”

They both looked across at where the two women were discussing something in hushed tones, the words “Sydney”, “arrested”, and “GDF” floating into earshot. For some reason, that seemed to cheer Gordon up, as he released Scott and took a step back.

“Yeah, well, you look ridiculous.” Parker’s carefully crafted hairstyle was mussed up, and Gordon made a face at the amount of gel that came off onto his hands, wiping them vigorously on his shorts. “Gross. Go get yourself back to normal and stop looking like a pampered billionaire.”

Scott grinned at him. “But Gordon, didn’t you know? I am a pampered billionaire.”

Gordon whacked his arm. “Go. Change. Don’t worry about the luggage – Virgil’s already got that.” Scott whirled around and sure enough, his case was being carried towards the stairs by his brother.

“Seriously?” he sighed, leaving his younger brother to his failed attempts to get Lady Penelope’s attention away from Kayo and jogging to catch up with Virgil. “I can carry my own bag.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re going to,” Virgil retorted, moving it out of reach when Scott tried to reclaim it. “Go take the elevator up.” Scott matched him, step for step, and Virgil stopped, grumbling under his breath, before turning and heading back down. “Fine, we’ll both take the elevator. Come on.”

Admitting defeat, he followed, leaning against the wall as it carried them up to the den.

“Where’s Alan?” he asked, noticing a lack of his youngest brother.

“Freighter ran into some trouble just out of orbit,” Virgil shrugged. “Brains went with him, and John’s joined them with the exo-suit. They should be finished soon.”

“Why didn’t Kayo go?” he wondered, and Virgil laughed.

“Turns out Lady Penelope had some other business in Sydney as well as going to the opera,” he said. “Kayo’s been handling the fall out while you two had a nice walk in the park and gave Lady P. an alibi.”

Scott stared at him, making no move to get out of the elevator when it arrived.

“You mean I was playing distraction in a spy mission the whole time?”

“Seems that way, bro,” Virgil grinned, taking hold of his elbow and guiding him out, towards the final set of stairs. “Judging by the papers, you made a fantastic one. They’re full of conspiracy theories why you two were at the opera last night, although John’s culled the worst offenders.”

Scott sighed and picked at his bejewelled cufflinks morosely.

“No wonder they were so determined that I wear overpriced suits,” he moaned. “Get me out of this thing; I’ve had enough.”

Virgil laughed again, pushing his way inside Scott’s room and putting the case down on the floor.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said even as Scott all but ripped the tie away from his neck, letting the expensive pink material fall to the floor. “See you in the den when you’re done.”

“Sure.”

It took very little time to get the offending clothes off, and his usual, comfy attire on. His hair was a lost cause that required washing to get all of the gel out, however, so Scott just left it in its Gordon-ruffled state to be dealt with later, especially as the unmistakable sound of Thunderbird Three roared through the house; a glance out of his window showed him the large rocket returning to her silo, youngest brother presumably on board.

What he hadn’t been expecting, as he made his way back down to the den to find everyone gathered there, was the third person on board.

“You look better,” John said bluntly, crossing the room and putting a hand on his shoulder, surveying him critically like two of their younger brothers already had. “I thought as much this morning, but holograms can be deceiving.”

“This morning?” he heard Gordon ask, but Alan chose that moment to leap at his two eldest brothers and hug them both, John’s recoil coming too late to escape.

“How was it?” the youngest asked excitedly. “Did you see the bridge? Was the Opera House all lit up?”

Scott didn’t get a chance to answer before John cut in.

“Get off, Alan.”

However, their youngest brother was like a limpet when he wanted to be, and with Scott not particularly trying very hard to escape, John’s struggles were fruitless, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room.

“Dog pile!” Gordon yelled suddenly, and Scott joined the laughter as Virgil got willingly dragged in, the four youngest brothers making a ring around the eldest.

“Guys!” John complained, but there was no real bite to his tone.

“Well, isn’t that just a picture,” Grandma commented. “Kayo, be a dear and take a photo of my grandsons.”

“Already done.” She flicked it up onto a holoprojector, and after a few moments the five boys disentangled enough to see it. Four of them were laughing, with the fifth wearing a reluctant smile. It was a total mess, with limbs everywhere and Gordon in danger of falling over where he was half-clinging to Virgil’s back. Alan wasn’t even facing the camera, a bright blob of blond shielding most of his face from view.

“That’s awful,” John said, at the same moment Lady Penelope asked Kayo for a copy.

The two long term friends looked at each other, one frowning, the other openly amused, before John shook his head and extracted himself entirely from the crowd of brothers. Scott watched the exchange, amused, before realising his brother was heading back towards the hangars.

“John, where are you going?” he asked.

“Back to the office, and sanity,” the redhead retorted.

“You don’t even want some cake?” Lady Penelope asked. “It’s chocolate.”

Cake? “When did we get cake?” Scott asked, turning away from where John had paused to look at her, still dressed in her posh pink dress.

“h’I did, Mr Scott,” Parker waved. “While you were h’out on your walk this morning. M’Lady h’asked that h’I pick h’up the cake she h’ordered yesterday.”

“It’s in the kitchen, ready to be eaten,” Grandma interjected, and Scott blinked as his three youngest brothers vanished in a stampede, Kayo already long gone.

“Fine, I’ll stay for the cake.” John’s reluctance was entirely put-on, in Scott’s opinion. “Come on, Scott, or the vultures will have eaten it all before we get there.”

Scott laughed, and hauled himself back out of the sofa.

“Race you!”

As he and John tore down the stairs, both slowed down by injury or gravity, he heard more laughter from the den, and the click of another photograph being taken.

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #lady penelope creighton-ward #aloysius parker #grandma tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #thunderfluff

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ragewerthers · 5 years

Text

Lost Keys

Summary: Kuroo can’t seem to find his keys, but he has a sneaking suspicion that he knows someone who can help find them. However, they may need a little persuading.

A/n: This is a fic for my friend @ticklygiggles!!! She sent me the prompt:

‘Hello DEAR FRIEND, could I request 15. “I know you’re hiding my ____, and I know where.” with 'keys' and with KuroDai if possible? Many thaaaanks ‘

And it was so cute I instantly knew what I wanted to write for it! I hope that you enjoy it, my friend!!! :D It was a blast to write these two for you!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22208185

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 2591

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

“Damn it… I know they’re here somewhere,” Kuroo mumbled under his breath, going through the same pile of papers he’d just been grading as he looked for his apartment keys. He was already running a little behind schedule for a faculty meeting and Daichi was going to be gone later in the day for his own teaching classes so he’d have to have them to get back into their apartment later on tonight. Sadly it seemed that the keys were nowhere to be found regardless of how long he’d been looking.

He swore he had left them on this desk, but so far he had searched almost every inch of his and Daichi’s apartment looking for the damn things! He had checked all the odd places they’d been found before.

The refrigerator in the kitchen.

The sofa cushions in the living room.

Hell he’d even snuck back into their bedroom where Daichi was still sleeping and checked all around their bed in case they had simply dropped out of his pocket when they undressed for bed!

Yet still they remained lost in the mist.

He had retreated back to the office for one more look, refusing to sound the alarm for help just yet. The last thing he wanted to do was alert Daichi to the fact that he had once again lost his keys. It was literally an everyday occurrence though he always promised Daichi that he knew where they were.

Obviously he didn’t.

It was generally dumb luck that led him to finding them over and over again, but apparently today his luck had finally run out.

“Missing something, Kuroo?” a deep voice rumbled from the hallway outside the room they used as their office. It sounded smug. Annoyingly smug.

Turning he saw that yes… Daichi definitely had a smug look on his far too handsome features this early morning and oh how it irked him. Honestly, how could a man with messy bed head, rumpled pajamas and morning stubble look so smug and cute at once?!

Absolutely unfair and uncalled for.

Putting on his most relaxed smile, Kuroo waved a dismissive hand. “Of course not! I’m a responsible 30 year old who knows exactly where they are. I’m just… making sure I have everything for the meeting,” he said with a flippant aire as he tried to sneakily let his eyes rove around the room in search of the shiny cat charm that was attached to his missing keys.

“Mmhmm. And that’s why I’ve heard you rustling around in here for the last… oh... twenty minutes?” Daichi asked, leaning against the door frame as his arms came up to cross over his broad chest. God, Daichi looked so sleep soft and cozy Kuroo just wanted to take him back to bed and forget this whole morning meeting nonsense.

Sadly, there was no getting out of this particular meeting and if he tried to talk Daichi into letting him stay longer the man would definitely figure out that he had lost his keys somewhere.

“That’s exactly why you’ve heard me rustling around, Sa’amura,” he murmured softly, hoping to distract the man with that particular nickname. “You know how prepared I like to be.”

“A prepared person would take the time to hang his keys on the key rack by the front door. The one that I put there specifically so that you would stop having this problem,” Daichi pointed out, giving a little shake of his head, completely immune to Kuroo’s teasing this morning. “Why can’t you just admit that I was right that you have a horrible habit of misplacing things and then let me help you? Is that so hard… kitten?”

Oh that smug bastard!

Kuroo’s cheeks instantly flushed up as he heard that endearment, swallowing a little thickly at the way Daichi had pitched his voice lower and smiled all the more smugly.

However… there was something about that smile that had been plastered on his partners lips all morning that was starting to send little red flags to his brain.

Why was Daichi so confident that his keys were misplaced? Kuroo literally could’ve sworn he’d placed them on the desk right before bed last night so that he knew where to find them.

And why was Daichi so keen on him admitting that he was wrong? So that he would be forced to use that silly looking key rack?

Never.

No. Something told him that he hadn’t been the one to misplace his keys.

Something told him that someone else had taken his keys.

“Kuroo? Kuroo why are you looking at me like that?” Daichi asked, his teasing expression morphing into one of slight concern as he moved away from the door frame.

Narrowing his eyes Kuroo’s own smile grew and he took a step forward.

“I know you’re hiding my keys, Daichi,” he purred, watching as the shorter man’s eyes widened a bit. “And I know where.”

“Kuroo? Kuroo you can’t seriously thin-AH!”

In a flash, Kuroo took off toward Daichi, but the man still had the quick reflexes from his sports days and dashed off back down the hall toward the living room. Trying desperately to get away from a cat in hot pursuit.

“Are you crazy?! I don’t have your keys!” Daichi cried out, cutting to the right to duck into their kitchen and put the table between them.

“Then why are you running from me, sweetheart?” Kuroo called after him, standing on the other side of the table and smiling dangerously at his husband. “It’s obviously because you have them on you, dearest. And why I can’t seem to find them this morning even though I know I put them on my desk last night. Now… come where and give me my keys or you are going to be one very sorry little crow!”

With that last little warning, he tore off around the side of the table, Daichi crying out as he tried to get to the sofa and get another piece of furniture between them.

“Who are you calling little?! Leave me alone, Kuroo! I don’t have your damn ke-NO!”

Just as Daichi was rounding the corner of the sofa, he felt himself instantly being tackled down into the cushions. He tried… he really, really did try to wriggle his way free, but Kuroo still had a decent amount of height and an absurd amount of momentum going for him. So it was only a matter of minutes before Daich was pinned down on their small couch, wrists pinned under his partners knees and looking even more rumpled from the mini wrestling match.

Honestly, it was a bit distracting at the moment with Daichi’s shirt riding up slightly to show off some of his tum, his breathing just a little heavier and his cheeks rosy. But Kuroo couldn’t get distracted now! He had a husband to punish!

“Like I said, Dai… if you didn’t have my keys you wouldn’t have run from me. You obviously are hiding them on you,” he said matter-of-factly.

Daichi rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he tried to pull his arms free of their trapped position under Kuroo’s knees. “You’re insane! I’m in pajamas! Where in the hell would I be hiding them?!” he argued and really, he had a good point.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes and refused to give up so easily. “Fine. Perhaps you don’t have them on you, but… I think you do know where they are. And I have ways of making you talk, Sa’amura,” he murmured, moving his fingertips against the sides of Daichi’s exposed tum.

Daichi instantly stilled, his eyes going wide as he shook his head.

“Kuroo… Kuroo listen to me. I have absolutely no ide-hehehahaha!” he tried to plead before breaking out into desperate giggles.

Kuroo couldn’t help smiling as he watched his husband already dissolving into a giggle fit, simply because he was fluttering his fingers gently against the man’s ticklish stomach. Oh he had loved finding out this little tidbit of information about his lover years ago and he had used it to his advantage many times.

Today would be no different.

“You know how to get this to stop, Daichi. Just tell me where my keys are and I won’t have to do this,” he cooed, letting his fingers scribble faster and closer, right to the center of the poor man’s stomach.

Daichi instantly arched up at the contact before laughing harder and trying to buck Kuroo off him.

“I… I dohohon’t know! I don’t know, Kuroohohoho! Plehehehase!” Daichi cackled, his neck already flushing up from Kuroo going after one of his worst spots. “Stahp! Stop ihihihit!”

Kuroo couldn’t help chuckling at his poor partner, basking in his adorable laughter as he continued to skitter his fingers all over his tum. It was definitely a lovely stomach to be sure and Kuroo always found himself drawn to it. For kisses, for soft touches and especially for tickles. However, there were also other lovely spots that could get equally wonderful reactions from the man. Seeing as he wasn’t keen to come clean about stealing his keys just yet, Kuroo decided to move on to some of those spots.

Moving his hands up he began to massage deep circles against Daichi’s lowest ribs, vibrating right underneath of them and the laughter instantly went wilder. Daichi’s legs kicked out behind him and if he hadn’t been prepared he definitely would’ve been throw off by the sudden increase in his partners squriming.

“N-not thahat! Not that, Tehehehetsu-ahahahagahahad!” Daichi was positively cackling now as he felt the horrible, nimble fingers hitting that particular spot. It always made him want to crawl out of his skin as the ticklish shocks felt like little zips of electricity running through his body.

“Give me what I want and I’ll stop, Daichi. I told you this. You just have to tell me where my keys are,” Kuroo cooed softly, his fingers slowly tickling higher and higher up Daichi’s ribs. Making sure to caress and wriggle into every dip the wanted the man to remember just how ticklish he was and who he was messing with.

With each press of Kuroos’ fingers against his poor ribs, Daichi could only squeak out little pleas of cries of laughter… until Kuroo decided to go in for the kill.

“Alright. Dai… you asked for this. I tried to play nice, but… you only have your own stubbornness to blame,” Kuroo said with a mock sigh of sympathy, pausing for a moment to let his words sink in.

As the tickling stopped, Daichi tried to catch his breath, intermittent giggles still escaping as he tried to figure out what his husband meant.

And then he felt it.

The soft press of Kuroo’s finger right against the centers of his armpits.

Daichi instantly started to thrash and fight his way to freedom.

“I don’t have them! I don’t have your keys! I don’t know where they are! I don’t, I don’t, I do-HAHAHAHGAHAHAD! NOT THE-HEHEHAHAHA!”

If Daichi was laughing before he was positively howling now. Kuroo wasted no time in listening to his lies. His fingers wriggled mercilessly against Daichi’s hypersensitive underarms, the poor former Captain going absolutely wild at the sensation.

He bucked, he kicked, he snorted and squeaked, but nothing would stop Kuroo from getting what he wanted.

“PLEHEHEHEASE! MERCHEHEHEY! MERCHEY KUROOHO-AHAHA!” Daichi begged, tears of laughter already escaping him as he tried to squeeze his arms closer to his sides to stop the attack, but he seemed incapable of saving himself. Kuroo knew just to move his fingers in the most maddening way to get him to go wild. His entire body felt like it was under attack, the ticklish sensations blocking out everything else as Kuroo scribbled his fingers quickly right into the center of his sensitive hollows.

Sadly, Kuroo must’ve hit just the right spot because as he let his fingers tweak just below his underarms, Daichi twitched so violently that he sent them both falling over the side of the sofa into a tangled heap on the floor.

It all happened so quickly that it took Kuroo a moment to realize just where he was, laying on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa, a panting, shaking and giggling Daichi laying over top of him.

“Oh my god, Daichi… Daichi are you okay, sweetheart?” Kuroo asked instantly, realizing that maybe… maybe he had gone a bit too far. He soothed his hand along Daichi’s back, the man squirming from being far too sensitive and as soft whine escaping him.

“Do-don’t tihihickle me… plehehease… I… I don’t know… where… where your kehehey’s are,” he giggled breathlessly, shifting his head slightly on Kuroo’s chest to look up at him with a flushed and tired expression, though a giggle induced smile still stayed on his lips.

Kuroo’s heart positively clenched at the sight and he brought his other hand up to cup his husbands rosy cheek, leaning up a bit to kiss his forehead. “Okay, love. Okay. I believe you. No more tickles,” he chuckled, watching as Daichi nodded and closed his eyes, settling back on Kuroo’s chest and trying to catch his breath.

As Daichi continued to calm from his attack, Kuroo continued the gentle soothing to his back, soon feeling Daichi’s breathing relax. He couldn’t help smiling a bit at how adorable Daichi had been when he’d been laughing like that, but his thoughts on that were momentarily lost as something caught his eyes under the sofa.

Turning his head he gasped as he caught sight of a silver cat charm attached to his keys.

They must’ve fallen out of the sofa when he searched the cushions earlier and landed on the floor!

Which meant… that he had literally almost tickled his partner to insanity for nothing.

Kuroo felt his face instantly heat up with shame and worry as he realized that this… this was not going to be easy to explain away.

“Oh… uh… look, Daichi! It… um… my keys were… under the sofa the whole time. Isn’t that funny?” he asked nervously, pausing a moment and feeling his tension grow as no answer was forthcoming.

“Daichi? Dai? Sawamura? Are… are you upset? I… I swear I didn’t know! I honestly thought you had them! I…,”

But his words were cut off by the soft snuffling sound coming from his husband.

Taking a moment to let the shame and fear ebb, Kuroo allowed himself to pay attention to the man still nestled against his chest and realized…

Daichi had fallen asleep.

Kuroo blinked owlishly a few times, but as he glanced down he realized that it was true. Daichi had literally nodded off on him after the intense tickles he’d gotten so early in the morning. The poor man’s cheeks were still flushed from laughter, his mouth slightly agape as he nuzzled against Kurro’s shirt and snuggled closer to him.

“Oh, Daichi,” Kuroo whispered softly, a warm, soft smile making its way onto his lips as he brought a hand up to soothe through his husbands short hair.

Glancing at the clock on the wall he realized that there was no absolutely no way he was making that faculty meeting. And honestly, he would be willing to miss ten of those meetings if it meant staying where he was to let Daichi get some much deserved rest.

He was definitely going to have to make it up to the poor man.

Perhaps… he’d start by using the key rack.

#kurodai #kuroo tetsurou #sawamura daichi #haikyuu #my fics #tickle fic #they're married in this one!#I just love them so much!#They are just too adorable!

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obeymeaskme · 5 years

Text

Obey Me Tarot Cards!?!

Noelle and Espie have been working out Tarot card Concepts for the Obey me Cast! Including Genderless-ish MC!

A/N:

Noelle: I just want to say the painful irony in some of these cards, and I can and in fact say these card match ups are almost spoiler alerts to the game if you go read the meaning of the cards is also funny to me... so Spoilers! Also A HUGE disclaimer, but please for the love of Devildom read it, we need all the help we can get lol

Epsie: We had fun with this! “?” Did we?

Noelle: Yes, I’m currently typing those exact words for your author’s note :)

Epsie: Great *tiny giggle*

Here’s the List of the Major Arcanas and who will be dipicting them. We tried our best to match the meaning of the cards to which Character would fit best (sorry mammon):

Asmodeus: The Empress (LOL???) and The Devil

Beelzebub: The moon and Justice

Belphegor: The sun and Strength

Leviathan: Wheel of Fortune and Judgement

Mammon: The fool (sorry Mammon... again) and The world

Solomon: The Magician (obviously, painfully obviously) and The Hanged Man

Lucifer(LUCY IM HOME): The Emperor (With Asmo? LAWL) and Death

Satan: The Hermit and Temperance (Unintentional pun???)

Luke: The Chariot and The Star

Simeon: The Hierophant and The Priest (again, more unintentional puns l.o.l)

MC: (If these weren’t obvious AF I don’t know what would be lawl)

The Tower and The lovers (Not a Harem)

When It comes to the Wands/Coin, Pentacles/ Cups and Swords:

Wands are going to be replace by Glowsticks

Coins/Pentacles are being replaced by Grimms (this is a lot of shiny, golden pain :’D )

Cups: Henry's Home (fish bowls)

And Cuttlery for the Swords.

The Page is goning to represented by Lilith (I have ZERO Ideas of how that’s gonna work cause we don’t know what she looks like, bu I plan on getting creative!)

Barbatos is literally stuck as the queen (And he probably saw that coming *Ba Dun tss*... don’t hurt me)

And obviously Lord Diavolo is gonna represent the kings (Oh boy howdy do I get to draw all these fun hairstyles in such FUN DETAIL! AHHHHHH-)

If anyone has ANY suggestions or ideas for card concept PLEASE let us know!

Disclaimer about using these designs as actual Tarot cards!

We want to make these all downloadable so you can either have a cutesy/artsy Tarot card themed MERCHANDISE (like just printing them out on paper to go “ohh! So cool”) or if you REALLY wanted to Risk (???) using them as actual Tarot cards (Sadly I can’t sell tarot cards so go find a site, they’re gonna be hella expensive though ^^’ at least the images are free!). But as for the fact these are Designs for “Tarot Cards” where USUALLY You say a blessing or prayer before a reading to ward off evil spirits etc and since these ARE Demons (game or not) I want to make it VERY CLEAR that we ARE NOT 1.) telling ya’ll to give negative bad juju onto others with these cards 2.) Saying that this may or may not be a safe thing, cause they’re just designs because I (Noelle) Have a really bad habit of doing dumb stuff, I just thought it was a cool CONCEPT and 3.) I honestly feel like it’s a disrespectful to use demon themed tarot cards for readings (Again I have little knowledge of this kind of stuff and the research I did do confused me) due to past experience and questions asked to psychic. I’m also not 100% sure about this so PLEASE be cautious if you decide to turn the downloadable images into ACTUAL tarot cards, make sure to bless them just in case, better yet ask an actual Psychic if it’s safe. I am but an amateur artist who thought these would be cool, and I have little knowledge of the Tarot card world, so please be careful and safe <3 -End of disclaimer-

If anyone has more insight about the whole “Demon themed Tarot cards should not be used” thing let Me Know so I can update this!

This whole entire post was created by Noelle, with Espie as a held captive Audience (She needed to make dinner but I asked her to wait for me <3)

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emberbent · 4 years

Photo

Book 2: Air | Chapter 6: Kismet

With the events of Gaoling behind her, and with her connection to her past lives reestablished, Shinza finally had time to focus solely on her airbending. Like her breathing, meditation, and yoga exercises, bending the air also came easily to her, due to her “air nomad’s spirit,” as Lo Sang said. Shinza came to each lesson with a clear head and a free spirit; during lessons and sparring matches, as her instructor had taught her, she constantly sought the path of least resistance, readily changing direction at a moment’s notice. She’d had little trouble with the gates exercise, and the obstacle course, though tough even for more experienced airbenders, didn’t seem like much of a feat to Shinza, who nimbly dodged the sandbags Jinora and Lo Sang dropped on her, ziplined herself down a long rope with the help of airbending, and climbed the rock face without a second thought as to the vast distance between her and the base of the mountain. Airball, however, was a different story.

“Okay, how about this?” Lo Sang called from halfway down the court, lithely hopping from post to post as if they were stepping stones set in the ground. “You beat me, and I’ll nominate you for the mastery test.”

Shinza paused, balancing on the two-foot wooden post in front of her goal. In her left hand spun the airball, driven by the current she produced. She knew she was good at airbending, and she’d been practicing a move she’d created on her own, knowing she wouldn’t have time to master all thirty-six forms. But she’d never been an athlete, and Lo Sang had been regularly kicking her ass on the court for weeks; she wasn’t sure this time would be any different. Or maybe, with the mastery test as motivation, she’d finally hold her own. “Okay, you’re on!”

Without warning, she put her whole body weight behind the airball, sending it spinning toward Lo Sang’s goal at the other end of the court. The young one leapt upward, as if she’d been born in the sky, and batted the ball with ease back toward Shinza without even touching it, and with twice as much velocity. On a ten-cent piece, Shinza maneuvered herself in front of the ball just before it could make it past her right shoulder, making a full turn and launching the ball back.

“The flourish was a little unnecessa--!” Lo Sang stopped short as the ball sailed over her head and through the goal, leaving the wooden middle spinning.

Shinza’s jaw dropped. Then she burst into a grin. “I believe that’s 1-0!”

Lo Sang was busy picking up her jaw. “You distracted me!” she hollered. “Not fair. Try again.”

“It absolutely was fair,” Shinza chuckled. “Admit it. You weren’t ready and I got you.”

“Okay, fine,” Lo Sang relented, retrieving the ball and tossing it weightlessly between her hands. “Best two out of three.”

Shinza’s dark brows arched. “You said if I beat you, you’d nominate me.”

Lo Sang’s eyes narrowed visibly from down the court. “Humor me,” she said. “It could have been a fluke. Admit that, grandma.”

Shinza nodded. “Okay then. Bring it on!” She gestured for Lo Sang to give it her best shot.

And she did. The ball came hurtling toward Shinza nearly faster than she could think to maneuver; but instinct took over, guiding Shinza to backbend over toward her post. By the time she righted herself, the ball was at face-level. With a deep breath and a powerful gust of wind, she sent back what Lo Sang had doled out. The young one leapt as high and fast as she could, but the ball still thunked into the goal, and the middle spun again.

Shinza shrieked in delight, surprising both of them.

“Wow,” Lo Sang muttered, briefly taken over by defeat, but then remembering the point of it all. Shinza had beaten her more than once; two out of three, as she’d prescribed. She was ready for the mastery test. She hopped weightlessly from post to post until she reached Shinza’s end. “Congratulations,” she smirked. “You ready to be tested?”

Before their evening meal, they took a walk along the northern face of the mountain, along the way passing the cliffside where Shinza had first gone into the Avatar state - where she’d learned the truth about her abilities. Shinza paused and put her hand up to the rock face. Lo Sang readied herself to comfort her, but she sensed a resolve in her as she took her hand away.

“How are you feeling?” Lo Sang inquired as they continued to the pond - a tranquil body of clear, cool water, whose bank backed up to the base of the temple.

“I’m okay,” Shinza said honestly. “I’ve learned a lot here - so much more than I thought I would. I’m feeling good about what’s next.” She slipped down the shallow stairs, removing her boots and rolling up her pants. Sticking her pale feet in the water, she bent over to gaze into the water, at the meticulously-placed tiles that made up the bottom of the pond.

Lo Sang did the same, leaving her small boots next to Shinza’s and coming to sit beside her. The breeze rustled a nearby tree which shed several leaves into the pond. A thought sat on the tip of her tongue, but she said nothing.

“What?” Shinza inquired, as if reading her mind.

Lo Sang met her gaze for half a second and then looked away, out into the expanse of mountains miles off in the distance. “Nothing. It’s… I don’t want to say.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Shinza replied softly. “But I won’t tell anyone if you do.”

Lo Sang shifted just a millimeter closer. “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” she confessed. “It’s not right for a teacher to have become so attached to a student - especially one whose sole duty is to leave and do great things. It goes against everything I was taught.”

Shinza cast her warm red-brown gaze down at her young teacher. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” she soothed. “How do you find the motivation to teach, or care, if you don’t get attached?”

Lo Sang smiled sadly, but didn’t say anything for a while. Shinza disturbed the water with her feet, stretching her toes. A few moments passed, and Lo Sang spoke again. “Do you have siblings?”

“No,” Shinza replied, squinting as she tried to follow Lo Sang’s train of thought. The air nomads historically hadn’t assigned much value to the notion of blood relations the way the rest of the world had, and for good reason. “I’m an only child. Why?”

Lo Sang leaned forward and gazed at her own rippling reflection in the water - snowy hair, darting grey eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied. “We don’t have siblings or parents in the temples - the nuns raise us. And that’s okay, because we’re one big family in a way. Jinora is technically my great-grandmother, but it doesn’t really matter. She’s kind of everyone’s great-grandmother. But sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have a sister, you know? A sister who was just mine.”

Shinza softened, drawing the young one in toward her with a sweep of her arm.

“I was always happy being an only child,” she admitted. “I never wished I had siblings. But now I see what I missed out on. If I’d had a sister, I would hope she’d be just like you.”

Lo Sang looked up at her with a grin. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. You’re brilliant, calm, poised; you’re a master airbender, teaching the avatar, and you’re not even ten years old. You’re kind and compassionate… annoying as can be, but amazing. And you know what else? You’re Jinora’s great-granddaughter, and I was once Avatar Aang. So... in some way, I think we are sisters.”

Lo Sang hugged Shinza as tight around the middle as she could.

The test came the next morning - sooner than Shinza had expected. But since she felt she was ready, the elders didn’t see a reason not to proceed right away. Lo Sang helped Shinza tie the sash around her ceremonial tunic, crouching low to straighten the seams, even though she knew they’d get messed up again in just a few moments. “Are you nervous?”

Shinza snorted. “I think you’re more nervous than I am.”

Lo Sang straightened up tall. “I am not.”

“Whatever you say,” she replied with a smirk, leaning her head back and gathering all her shiny black locks into a top knot. To Lo Sang’s reflection in the mirror, she said, “I’m feeling okay. I have a handle on my form - I think you’ll really like it.”

Shinza felt fortunate to feel so at ease; she wasn’t sure she could endure the same feeling she’d had just before and after her firebending test.

Lo Sang gave a pleased smile, her flickering gaze lingering on her student, who she knew would make her proud. Then she ducked out of the dressing room, peeking her head back in a moment later. “They’re ready for you.”

She took one final cleansing breath, deliberately avoiding looking in the mirror so that she could slide into the state of mind she’d need to pass the test. Outside the room, the council of elders had taken their places in the main courtyard; Jinora sat in the middle of a long bench, flanked by two others on each side. Lo Sang had settled on the ground, cross-legged, at Jinora’s feet.

Shinza bowed deeply to the council.

“Avatar Shinza,” Jinora greeted, her voice surprisingly loud and authoritative. “We gather to judge you on your airbending mastery. Given that you have been here for less time than it takes to master the thirty-six forms, I assume you’ve mastered the basics and perfected a form of your own?”

“Yes, Master Jinora,” Shinza replied.

“Begin then, child.”

Shinza inclined her head again and began. She ran through a number of forms, seemingly random in order, but strung together seamlessly in a carefully choreographed performance. Her breathing remained steady, and amid the constant spinning, she had lost sight of the panel - she was alone with her bending, having found freedom within the space she occupied. Then, at last, she closed out with a circling of her arms to seal her energy.

Three of the council members applauded, but the rest remained still, including Jinora. “Proceed with your new form.”

“I need an assistant,” Shinza announced. “Master Lo Sang, would you please?”

Intrigued, Lo Sang puffed herself to her feet and sprinted toward Shinza, who gestured for her to move a couple yards away. “Attack me,” Shinza instructed.

Lo Sang spun nimbly on her little feet once, twice, three times, stopping with precision and thrusting the palms of her hands forward, generating a cannon-like gust of wind that tore toward Shinza.

With a rapid twisting motion of her arms, Shinza solidified the air in front of her, creating an invisible wall that dispelled Lo Sang’s cannon-gust; behind the wall, not a hair on Shinza’s head moved.

Lo Sang broke into a wide grin. Then she sprinted toward the wall, stopping short and holding out her hand. She brushed her fingers against it, relishing the feel - like touching breath. It was invisible, soft, and yet an incredible defensive technique.

“How you you find, Master Lo Sang?” Jinora inquired.

Dutifully, Lo Sang turned to the council, hands behind her back and standing up proud and tall. “The wall holds. I find my student fully understands the philosophy of airbending and integrates it into her practice. She has mastered her basics, and she has created a form that embodies the doctrine of our Air Nomad ancestors and of our Air Nation: defense first.”

Jinora let her detached facade fall, and her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Then, the Avatar passes the mastery test. Excellent work, both of you.”

Lo Sang hollered and rocketed into the air, twisting in elation and floating back down to the ground. “You did it!”

“I told you I’d make you proud,” Shinza murmured. Lo Sang looked up, cupping her hand around her mouth and standing on her tiptoes to whisper something to Shinza, who nodded.

Lo Sang took a running start and hopped onto her air skates; Shinza produced a solid panel of air, the shape of which was unknown to the council until Lo Sang leapt up onto it, balancing on what seemed to be a ledge. Then she fell forward, skating smoothly down a curve and back up a symmetrical curve on the other side, coming to perch on the opposite ledge. She repeated the motion over and over again, clearly tickled. Shinza herself giggled, casting a glance at the council, who all seemed to be enjoying the moment too.

At last, as the sun began to set, the council disbanded. Shinza headed toward the dining hall herself, but Lo Sang stopped her.

“When I became a master, I got a whole ceremony and my tattoos,” she said. “But those things are only for Air Nation natives.”

Shinza shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t need a fancy commemoration or anything. I didn’t get anything special when I passed my firebending test, either.”

“But still,” Lo Sang protested softly. “You deserve a little something special. You have to master four elements, after all.”

Unsure where Lo Sang was going with this, Shinza cocked her head.

“Kneel,” Lo Sang instructed, mimicking her best authoritative-Jinora voice. “Please.”

Shinza obeyed. Lo Sang lifted her index finger to the Avatar’s forehead and lovingly, deliberately traced the outline of an arrow on her brow. Then she took her hands and held them out, palms down, tracing a long path down her arms that terminated in an arrow on the back of each palm. Lastly, she gestured for Shinza to stand. She traced lines down her legs, ending with arrows on the tops of her feet.

“There,” Lo Sang said as she stood. “I think that’s better, don’t you?”

Shinza bit her lip to stop it from quivering, then slipped her arm around the young girl’s shoulders. “You’re the best.”

Lo Sang grinned and curled her arm around Shinza’s waist. Together, they made their way to the dining hall. “That’s what sisters are for.”

At sunrise the next morning, the temple’s congregation gathered at the courtyard to see Shinza off. It had been a long nine months, and yet it seemed to her like just yesterday, she had arrived here to this same scene; except now, the faces of the strangers who had first greeted her were familiar to her. Shinza had been allowed to keep the robes she’d worn to her test - a parting gift, Jinora had called it. She’d been keenly aware of the fact that Shinza’s Fire Nation clothes, the ones she’d worn to visit her family, had been irreparably damaged in Gaoling.

Shinza’s stomach knotted. She felt readier than she thought she would; now that the link to her past lives had been restored, she felt stronger and more confident than ever. But leaving Lo Sang and Jinora, after all they’d been through together, was bittersweet.

Lo Sang embraced Shinza one last time. Her heart melted when she heard little sniffs.

“We’ll see each other again,” Shinza whispered, rubbing her back.

Lo Sang replied in her high, sweet voice, “I know.” Then she stood tall, letting the wind rustle the fine white hairs that framed her face, and moved aside so that Jinora could move in.

The elder held the Avatar at arms’ length, studying her seemingly against an invisible portrait of who she’d been when she first arrived. “My dear, it has been a true honor,” she said, and then gathered Shinza into a gentle hug. “Perhaps we’ll meet again in the Spirit World. Now, go. Call your dragon - I’m sure your waterbending teacher is eager to meet you.”

Shinza hadn’t thought much on what came next; she’d been engrossed in her testing. “Who is it?” she asked. “What are they like?”

Jinora’s smile fell. “I don’t know, honey.”

Feeling the blood run out of her face, Shinza masked the rising panic she felt. How had she not thought to find herself a waterbending teacher? How could she have missed such a crucial step? She thought back to when she’d left the Island of the Sun Warriors, and realized that it had been Amrit who had found Lo Sang. With a pang in her heart, she realized she was on her own. She’d have to get to the North Pole - or the South Pole; she wasn’t even sure which place she should go to - and regroup. Resolutely, she nodded to Jinora and Lo Sang, stuck her index finger and thumb into her mouth, and whistled loudly for Xia.

The dragon didn’t appear right away, which wasn’t unusual. While she waited, she delicately traced the healed tattoo on her arm, feathering her fingertips over the black lines that made up Xia’s body. After a few more moments, Shinza turned to face the others, who had begun to grow restless. “She uh… she’s usually a couple seconds late.” But the seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. Lo Sang shuffled on her booted feet.

Shinza began to worry. Had Xia been shot down? Sweat beaded along her hairline.

“Look, there!” someone shouted. Xia burst through the clouds, carrying a rider on her back. But who…? Shinza squinted, and then yelped with joy, clapping her hands over her mouth.

Amrit rode proudly on the back of the dragon, his eager grin visible even from a distance. Xia flew with such velocity that she had to circle once or twice before touching down on the courtyard, and the wait was too long for Shinza to bear. Once Xia landed, Amrit slid elegantly off the dragon’s back. Shinza abandoned her little pack of belongings and leapt into his arms, unable to think to do anything else but to seek him in such a way. His breath left him and he curled his muscled arms around her lithe body, nearly tipping over, but righting them both with ease. She squeezed him tighter than she thought she could, and he reciprocated.

“Hey,” his voice quivered with emotion. “You okay?”

“Don’t let me go,” she responded, letting her tears flow freely.

He squeezed tighter. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then she laughed. And he laughed. She couldn’t have thought of anything more perfect than Amrit showing up when she needed him most. Finally, Shinza felt for the ground with her toes, and they both straightened themselves out, sizing each other up.

“What are you doing here?” she sniffed. Her cheeks ached from the width of her smile. Relief and joy coursed through her veins. Whatever anxiety she’d felt moments ago was gone. She regarded him openly - he wore his finest clothing, even a thick cape to keep the mountain’s draft away from his bare, copper skin. On his face were painted the familiar ochre markings. “You look so fancy.”

“I, uh... missed you,” he confessed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. His onyx eyes took her in. She looked like an entirely different woman; wiser, more confident. Remembering the way she and Xia had bonded when they’d first met, he couldn’t say he was surprised at the tattoo that covered her entire right arm. She’d always had impeccable posture, but now, as he regarded her, he felt her unmistakable presence as the Avatar. “And I’m here to ask for a job.”

Shinza’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Who’s looking out for you?” he inquired. “Do you have a waterbending teacher?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, sobering.

“I may have found someone to teach you,” Amrit said. “I figured you were probably close to finishing your training here, so I took the liberty. I don’t have a resume or anything, but I have your back. I want to help you however I can.”

Shinza inquired softly, “What about your students? And your family?”

“My parents have my sister’s kids to look after. My students have all graduated, and the next round will be too young to start for a few years yet. Look… when you first came to the Island, I knew without a single grain of doubt that I was meant to help you. And after you left, things didn’t feel the same.”

She studied him, broad-shouldered, stating his case. While flattered that he felt the need to explain it at all, she knew kismet when she felt it. All the same, she pretended to deliberate.

Then she stuck her hand out with a smirk. “Team Avatar?”

Visibly relaxing, Amrit grinned, ignored her hand, and instead gathered her up in his arms again. “Team Avatar.”

From behind them, a small voice demanded, “So wait, who is this guy?”

Having forgotten they weren’t alone, Shinza turned to Lo Sang. “This is Amrit Han,” she said. “He was my firebending teacher. Amrit,” she said, turning to him and gesturing, “Please meet Masters Jinora and Lo Sang.”

“It’s my utmost pleasure,” said Jinora, inclining her head. As soon as Amrit’s gaze swept onto Lo Sang, however, the little one’s eyes went wide and her cheeks blossomed with a deep red blush. “Wow. You’re really handsome.”

“Right?” Shinza sounded. “You could just punch him.”

“I… hang on, what?” Amrit chuckled, a confused smile spreading over his face.

“On that note, Xia’s waiting,” Shinza cued, gathering her pack. The two mounted the dragon’s back and held on tight as Xia got a running start and leapt off the ground, rocketing northward. Shinza looked back with ease, a friend to the open air now, and sent her love back to the temple.

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