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Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins ​​tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that  she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

About a Certain Duke's Daughter (Part 2)

Translation of ある公爵令嬢について from the Hamefura Web Novel Read Part 1 here

T/N: I am using the spelling used in the Light Novels, but I would probably make an exception for Fray, if/when she appears. I'll use Randall as her last name if ever (it was Landoor in the LNs, iirc). :) Holy, moly. This part is a little longer than the previous one and took me more time to translate than I thought it would. My apologies for any typos or grammatical mistakes--I haven't given it another read through so this is as raw as it gets. xD Anyway, please enjoy, and my messages are open if you notice any translation/grammatical mistakes, or just want to talk about HameFura.

And so, a few years after I started being able to use magic, I enrolled at the Academy of Magic.

And while I entered the academy shouldering the excessive expectations of the Tucker household, I arrived only to learn that my magic was actually quite weak.

No, rather than learning about it for the first time, I already noticed it before.

The Tucker house was situated far in the countryside, and while it is a Baron household, it was quite a low-ranking house. There was no one with magical powers nearby.

Even so, from the way my magical powers activated at a later age and from what was written in books about magic, I already knew that my magic was quite weak.

However, actually entering the Academy of Magic and seeing the magical powers of the sons and daughters of other nobles, I realized once again that it was quite impertinent to even call my own magical power as magic.

I was already reluctant to go back to the Tucker household before, and now, after this realization, I became even more reluctant to go back to the estate.

Baron Tucker was so over the moon at having a magic-user in the family for the first time that he said he’ll have someone’s son marry into the family and make me the heiress but.. Honestly, from the perspective of a high-ranking house with several magic-wielding members, a concubine’s daughter with such negligible magical powers would just be laughed at scornfully.

The Tucker family, a low-ranking baron household, was, so to speak, a family of naive country bumpkins.

I am grateful to them of course, for providing for me thus far, and I was thinking about paying them back the cost of taking care of me once I start working.

However, not once had I ever thought of wanting to stay in the Tucker house.

It was not like I hated it there, but I didn’t feel at home either.

So I looked for a way to avoid going back home.

A way for the baron family to acknowledge me without me having to go back… And I found it.

That is, to work at the Magical Ministry. It is the most prominent organization in the country and admired by many.

If I am employed there, the Tuckers will be overjoyed, and they will never ask me to quit and go home.

It is said that while the Magical Ministry employs a lot of powerful magic-users, even those with almost no magical powers but have excellent grades could be employed as researchers.

And since I have insignificant magical powers, I have no choice but to aim for that.

Fortunately for me—someone who had been continuously praised for being a remarkable student by my teachers since I was but a child—I was able to remain an excellent student even after entering the Academy of Magic.

I was able to get the top ranking at the academic tests that took place soon after entering the academy. As a result, while I have very little magical capabilities, I was selected to become a member of the much-admired student council.

The student council of the Academy of Magic was a target of admiration of the whole student body.

After the Tucker household was notified that I became a member of the council, I received an all too thick letter from them expressing their joy. I was also commended by my teachers.

To a daughter of a countryside baron, this was such a great honor.

However, this also led to a lot of jealousy.

In the first place, most magic wielders are nobles, and the higher you go up the nobility rank, the greater the number of wielders.

Therefore, the majority of the students at the Academy of Magic are those of higher peerage.

This trend is especially apparent these days. Within the second years, students even include those of royal status and sons and daughters of dukes—people you ordinarily wouldn’t get the chance to meet if you live your life normally.

Under these circumstances, I could understand why the other students would not find it amusing if the daughter of a countryside baron had been selected to be a part of the widely-admired student council.

The jealousy is particularly strong this year, as the student council, starting with the royal twins, included a lot of seniors that are strongly adored by their juniors.

As far as social statuses go, among the second years, there is a commoner who wields magic—something the Academy had not seen in a while—named Maria Campbell, but… she is a wielder of light magic; aside from the fact that light magic users are extremely rare, her magical power is also regarded as top class.

In contrast to that, I am but the daughter of a countryside baron, not much different to a commoner in terms of status, wielding the not uncommon wind magic—and it’s fairly weak too. My only saving grace is my academic capabilities…….

It would probably go better for me if I had a more amiable personality, but... if you’d allow me to say so myself, I am quite twisted. I can’t even begin to spell amiable.

In other words, on top of the extreme jealousy, students in the academy despised me for being “a haughty and disagreeable girl despite her weak magic and low station”.

To be honest, though being in this situation feels terrible, there is nothing that I can do.

Ever since before, no one in the Tucker household really liked me, and even in the school I used to attend, people talked behind my back, and I was subjected to petty harassment.

To that end, the situation hasn’t really changed, just that the harassment has become a little more intense.

In other words, I should just do my best for two years, get excellent grades and get a job at the Magical Ministry.

I just have to continue to work hard on my own, as I always had. That was what I decided in my heart a few weeks after entering the Academy of Magic. That was what I intended but…..

“Hey, Ginger, you should try these sweets too. They’re very good!*

“No, thank you. I’m still working.”

“Really? I’ll just leave them here for you then~”

Saying this, she grinned and left the sweets beautifully wrapped in paper on top of the desk.

She had never responded to me in an unpleasant way even with my curt way of replying, something that is often frowned upon by others. If anything, no matter how cold I respond, she continues to approach me with a friendly smile. I can’t help but find it strange.

A few months have passed since my enrollment at the Academy of Magic and becoming a member of the student council.

Thanks to that, I’ve gotten quite used to my work here, but... There were some unexpected happenings as well.

To begin with, ever since I started being envied and harassed by the people around me after entering the academy and being selected as a member of the student council, I had intended to do my best on my own.

After all, I thought no one would involve themselves with me with any intention other than bullying.

And yet..… Most of the other first years who were also selected for the student council both had high pride and status, and I can feel their uneasiness around me, but…… All the second-year members are friendly and amicable, seemingly unbothered by social ranks.

Even the members of the royal family, Prince Jeord and Prince Alan, do not look down on me, and treat me as an equal.

And among those people, the one who is especially friendly is

———Katarina Claes, a duke’s daughter.

The only daughter of Duke Claes and Prince Jeord’s fiancée.

She, who stands on top of the social hierarchy, goes in and out of the student council every day, having completely integrated herself with the other student council members despite not being an actual member herself.

At the very strong request of the other second-year members, she was allowed to enter the student council room—

A place that is off-limits to the general student populace.

Lady Katarina is called “The Benevolent Saint” within the school. When I just joined the student council, I was also a little surprised by her kind and amiable smile.

However, after a little while, I realized.

Katarina Claes is————simply a dumb weirdo…...

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Fifteen: Three Professors

A/N: This is the fifteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2001

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Within the week the gossiping from the weekend's events had almost completely died down. However, with Severus and Aria acting civil towards one another during lessons, and almost completely back to their old habits of spending the evening together a whole new set of rumours were threatening to begin.

Karkaroff had mostly backed off Aria's case on the Severus front. However, this did not mean he had any intention of stopping socialising with her any chance he got. Igor had become invested in the relationship of the two potions professors' and he would not stop until he had the answers he was looking for. He took to visiting her during the majority of her free periods, as well as some evenings after class, often convincing her to join him for a stroll around the castle grounds, where he sought to pry into her personal life, especially her relationship with the potions master. It didn't bother Aria too much to begin with, in fact, she liked the company, but as the week grew to an end, she had become suspicious of his true intentions.

Almost immediately as lessons came to an end on Friday evening, right on cue, came a knock at the door. Before the potions apprentice had a second to open her mouth, the door was already pushed ajar, revealing the sunken features of Igor Karkaroff.

"Hello Igor." Aria sighed, barely sparing him a second glance.

"Good afternoon, beautiful lady" Igor chirped, his accent almost thicker than usual. Aria rolled her eyes at the headmaster, but chuckled lightly to herself in amusement. "Are you free to join me on a leisurely stroll around the castle?" He queried, striding into the center of the room, taking a seat behind one of the student's desks.

"Are you mad, Igor? The rain hasn't stopped all day! Besides, Professor Snape set a load of essays last week, that I have the pleasure to mark. I don't think I would be much in the way of conversation today, I have too much to do." She confessed, attempted to dissuade him.

"Nevertheless, I shall keep you company. I do not have anywhere to be."

"Thank you." Aria grimaced, really just wanting to focus on getting her marking done.

"Speaking of Severus..." Karkaroff begun, once again distracting Miss Dumbledore from her work. "There have been rumours of the two of you circling the school." He stated, leaving the intention of his sentence free for Aria to interpret.

"I am very well aware, Igor." She huffed. "Though they have begun to fizzle out in the last few days, I am pleased to say." The witch continued scribbling.

"That is not what I am talking about." The man shook his head, though kept his gaze firmly on the professor in an interrogative manner.

Aria raised an eyebrow, but did not stop reading the length of parchment.

"It has been said in this past week that you have entered into a relationship with the potions master, is this true?"

"God Igor, I never thought you so naïve that you would believe that sort of rubbish." She sniggered, allowing him a smidge more of her attention. "Like I would ever go out with a man like that, you surely heard what he said to me last week, it is unforgivable." Aria scoffed. "Besides, you should know just as well as I that people love to talk, students especially. Haven't you heard the one about us? It's all a load of nonsense, don't listen to any of it."

"I was simply... curious." He shrugged. "I would not like to think a beautiful woman such as yourself had gone to waste, like you say Severus Snape is simply not worth your time. You deserve much more."

"Thank you, Igor, however I do not think this is an appropriate conversation to have between colleagues, let's keep it professional." Aria suggested, noticing that the headmaster had a tendency to sidetrack the conversation to her love life.

A minute or more passed while the pair sat in silence before another knock interrupted.

Assuming it to be a student, Aria rose from her desk and made her way to the door. "Severus." She gasped, not expecting him to respect her privacy, just as Karkaroff had not. "You knocked?... again." Aria's eyes widened, taking a step back as she came face to face with the potions master.

"Yes, well, while I am not overjoyed with the current arrangements, I at least respect your need for some privacy." Severus wavered at the door, his eyes flickering towards the young woman, before taking it upon himself to enter the room, stopping almost immediately upon spotting Igor.

"I see I was right to to announce myself." The two men shared a short but intense glare. "Igor. I see you've made yourself quite at home."

"Oh... umm, Professor Karkaroff had just stopped by for a chat while I finish up on some marking." Aria rushed to explain, knowing exactly where Snape's mind was heading. "What can I do for you, Severus?"

"I came to collect the essays I assigned last week, I did not think it fair to leave them all to you while I sat in my room twiddling my thumbs."

"That's very kind of you Severus. Would you care to join us, you look like you could use the company." Aria practically begged.

Severus considered her offer for a second, knowing that what he wanted least of all was to spend time with Igor Karkaroff. However, on the other hand, he also wasn't too keen on leaving the pair alone, unsure of what he might spill to his apprentice. In the end Snape's better judgment overcame his pride and so he proceeded to pull up a chair, separating the two already seated professors.

Severus set to aggressively scribbling notes in the margins of the students essays, the scratching of his quill on parchment dominating the room. A long while past with only this and the sounds of bubbling cauldrons occupying the professors' ears. The tension between the three thickened as time went on. All scared to speak in fear of the other's response.

Finally Igor chose to break the silence, bored of staring at the potion's professors quietly marking away in unison.

"It must be hard for you Severus." Igor tested the waters, waiting on a response.

"What are you hinting at, Igor? What exactly is hard for me?" Snape replied cautiously after a moment of deliberation.

"Well, a man like you; settled in his position, proud of his job, it must be hard knowing you'll be replaced by a must younger, much more attractive model." Karkaroff shifted position in his chair, becoming more comfortable, confident in his ability to undermine the Potions master once again.

"Despite what you may have hoped Igor, you are sorely mistaken. My job is under no threat. I was simply asked to take a short week's sabbatical, in light of the recent events, until all the commotion has died down. And that week is coming to an end." Snape turned his attention from the essays, lifting his quill from the paper, and placing it to the side.

"Yes, yes of course." Igor humoured him. His body language radiating arrogance. "But it must be worrying, knowing that your job is potentially threatened by Miss Dumbledore here. She has the same skills as you, the same knowledge, and what she doesn't know now she soon will once you've been foolish enough to teach it to her. It cannot be easy, being forced to train the woman who will inevitability replace you."

"I do not know what your game is Igor, but I assure you, Miss Dumbledore is no threat to me."

Aria's ears pricked up at the second mention of her name, her gaze shooting between the two men.

"I really don't think this is relevant boys, can't we talk about something else?" Aria nervously nibbled on the edge of her lower lip. She knew where this was going and she didn't have an answer for what was coming. She also knew how vicious these men could be when they really wanted to, and she did not want to be in the room when they both pushed the other too far.

"Oh come on, Aria, darling. It must have crossed your mind. You are younger after all, the students relate to you more, god knows it wouldn't be hard to like you more. Not to mention your lineage, it cannot be more clear who Albus would prefer to employ. His own flesh and blood? Or someone with Severus'... background?"

"Watch your mouth, Igor." Snape droned through gritted teeth and flared nostrils.

"My grandfather didn't bring me here to replace Severus. He's a great professor, and a fantastic friend to him. I would even go as far to say that he trusts Severus' with his life. I am simply an apprentice. A year's training, that's what we agreed." Aria beamed, convinced she had put out the fire, unaware to the fact Igor had just lit another spark right under Severus' feet.

"With his life, eh?" Igor chuckled to himself. "How very clever you have been, Severus."

Confused Aria simply took a step back in the conversation, finally coming to the understanding that none of this was really about her.

Aria could sense Snape was uncomfortable, his body tensed and he straightened his posture, gripping his quill for comfort.

"I think it is time for you to leave, Headmaster Karkaroff. Miss Dumbledore and I are working, and prefer not to be disturbed."

"I see your game, Severus. I always knew you were a smart man, but you have played this very well indeed. But I know you, and I might just be able to beat you at your own game, if you are not careful."

"What is he talking about Snape?" The young woman whispered, turning her full attention to her colleague.

"Goodbye, Igor." Karkaroff gladly took a stand, knowing, despite Snape's commanding tone, he had won this round.

Igor Karkaroff rounded the desk, gently lifting Aria Dumbledore's hand to his lips.

"Until, next time." He breathed, bowing his head to kiss her gently, before showing himself out. "Your past is calling you Severus, and Dumbledore is ready to replace you when you go running right back."

Snape immediately rose from his chair, Aria suspecting that he was ready to storm from the room.

"Fuck." Aria breathed, joining Snape in standing. "What the hell was all that about?"

"That is none of your concern." Snape snapped, beginning to pile his papers.

"Of course... of course, it isn't." Aria shook her head knowing it was a stupid thing to say. "I only meant... well, are you okay?" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"While I appreciate your concern, Miss Dumbledore. I am not a child who needs consoling, nor do I need your pity. I am perfectly capable of handling the likes of Igor Karkaroff."

"Yes, of course, you are. I...I just-"

"Miss Dumbledore." Severus interjected, huffing though he didn't seem nearly as angry as Aria expected. He saw the woman quickly becoming flustered trying to think of the right thing to say so as not to displease him, this was not a rare occurrence. For once Severus' actually felt sorry for her and decided to cut her some slack. They had, after all, promised to become friends.

"I need you to calm down." Snape softly commanded, though quickly moved on. "While that encounter with Professor Karkaroff was less than pleasant, it is far from unfamiliar to me. Igor and I have a past. A past I would rather forget about, him, on the other hand, not so much. My advise to you is stay out of his way. I am under the impression he has his eye set on you."

"Why would he-"

"Goodnight, Miss Dumbledore." And with that Snape returned to his quarters for the evening, Aria's questions remaining unanswered.

What was Karkaroff up to that concerned her of all people?

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel​ @lizlil​

Time Will Tell: Part Two

note: alright, here is part two of @peppermintschnappss request (if you haven’t yet, you can read part one HERE) this one’s a bit smuttier and fluffier, I hope you like it

words: 4.1 k

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, unprotected sex)

enjoy :)

 

(New York City, six years later)

 “Alright, here we are, welcome to your new office, Ms. Y/L/N.”

 “Wow, its bigger than I imagined. Nice change from the cubicle back at my old firm.” You joked, looking around the room. It was modest, but it was your own, a fact that filled you with immense pride.

 “Well, you’re a senior associate now.” Your new boss replied, “Get used to it.”

 +++

After your boss had left, you used the short moment of quiet to set up some personal items on your desk before the real work started.

 There was one framed picture of you and your best friends, taken when you all graduated from Georgetown Law, arms around each other, smiling at the camera. The next one showed you and your parents, you had just passed the bar exam and your mum was looking like she had been crying just moments before the photo was taken. The last one was a collage the colleagues from your old law firm in DC had given to you as a good-bye-gift.

You had worked there for over two years and had loved it, but when you got the opportunity to work for one of the countries most renowned law firms, you had packed your bags and moved to New York City without a second thought.

The city was still a bit overwhelming, but this job was the career launch pad you had waited for, and you were excited to finally get started.

 There was a knock on the door of your office, pulling you out of your thoughts. A friendly looking young man appeared, quickly introducing himself as one of the firms’ paralegals.

 “We all gather for the morning meeting in the conference room in five minutes. The boss will introduce you and maybe already set you up with your first tasks.” he told you, “Just follow me, I’ll show you the way.”

The meeting room was already packed with people, and of course everyone was looking at you, the newcomer. You tried to appear confident, smiling at the new faces even though your heart was almost jumping out of your chest.

The boss introduced you to the other employees and started to go through the current cases. There was a lot of financial law, mergers and stuff, but the firm had a very broad operation field, and you hoped to be assigned to an environmental or human rights case sooner or later.

When the meeting was over, the boss asked you to stay behind.

 “You’re new here, Ms. Y/N, so I’m going to assign you a pro-bono case first. This is how we operate at our firm.”

You nodded in agreement, this was standard practice.

 “One of our other senior associates has already been assigned to this one, but its more work than we expected, so I figured he could use some help. That way you can familiarize yourself with how we work here, and your next case will be your own. Understood?”

 “Yes Sir.” You replied, trying not to be disappointed. You were eager to work with your own client, but getting some help from a colleague maybe wasn’t the worst idea. Also you could use a friend at this new place, and nothing was better for that than working on tough case together.

“So, who will I be working with?”

 Your boss looked around the people still filtering out of the conference room with a scowl on his face.

“Technically, he should be around here somewhere. I bet he’s late again, always the same shit. If he wasn’t so good at his job, I would have fired him ages ago.”

“Apologies, boss, I wish I could say that it won’t happen again.” A loud voice called out from behind you.

You felt like someone had slapped you in the face. You would recognize this arrogant tone everywhere.

 You whirled around and came face to face with Chris Cuomo.

 +++

“You?” The both of you said simultaneously, voices full of disbelief.

He looked different, the boyish features were gone, his jawline was sharper and his hair shorter. What was still there was his damn arrogant stance, the way he had strutted in here almost an hour to late and got away with a cocky reply told you everything you needed to know. This was still the same insolent guy who, for some reason, still got admired by everyone. How could fate screw you over like that?

“Oh, you already know each other, splendid.” Your boss exclaimed, “Christopher, Ms. Y/L/N is our newest senior associate. I assigned her to help you with your current case, show her how we work around here, would you?”

You had to give it to Chris, he didn’t even flinch. “Absolutely, Sir. Follow me.” He said, directed at you. He left so fast, you had to hurry to keep up with his big strides.

“Could you maybe wait a second.” You called after him, but he totally ignored you, walking towards a door at the end of the hallway.

 You followed him into what you supposed was his office. It was a bit larger than yours, with a view over the skyline instead of the alley behind the building.

Once you were inside the room, Chris slammed the door shut behind you.

 “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, looking incredibly annoyed now.

“What do you mean? I’m working here, Cuomo, I started today.”

 Chris ran his hand over his face and fell into the chair behind his desk.

 “Look, this won’t work. I’ve been on this case for weeks now, and I won’t let you interfere with it.”

 You stopped for a moment. Chris Cuomo, working on a pro bono case for weeks?

 “Why are you being so difficult about this? It’s a pro bono. Why don’t trust you with a real client anyway?” you asked, and were surprised how superficial and mean that sounded even to your own ears. How did he still bring out the worst side of you, even after you hadn’t seen him for years?

 “Not that it’s any of your concern, but they want to make me a junior partner soon. I’ve been here for four years, they hired me right out of law school. I’m one of the best attorneys employed here and I specifically asked for this case because I care about the people involved. So you can either help me and give those clients the attention and energy they deserve or I’ll have your ass out of here in less than a week.” he was almost yelling by now, fists clenched on his desk and you took a step back in face of his anger.

“Alright, I am sorry, no need to be so hostile.” You murmured. “Give me an overview and we can get started.”

 +++

The case was about two young men from Queens who were accused of robbing a drugstore. Chris insisted that they were victims of racial profiling and weren’t guilty of the charges, they had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 “They are telling the truth, I just know it.” Chris replied when you asked him how he could be so sure, and the tone of his voice made you refrain from questioning him any further.

He had given you a short, clipped outline of the case and now there were tons of files you had to read to get up to date.

 After about two hours of working next to each other in tense silence, you decided to extend an olive branch to Chris.

 “So, how have you been, Cuomo? Never heard from you again after Yale.”

 Chris looked up from the file he was reading, shooting you a wary glance across the table.

 “I went to Fordham, got my JD, passed the bar and started working here. I didn’t think you’d ever want to hear from me again. I’m not sure if you remember, but we didn’t exactly get along.” He replied, his voice was hard and his posture rigid, as if it made him extremely uncomfortable to even talk to you.

You sighted, debating what to say next.

“We didn’t, I hated you, in fact.”

Chris face gave the tiniest flinch and you mentally slapped yourself. Why had you just said that?

“Sorry, that was totally insensitive. I don’t hate you, not anymore. We were almost kids back then, and I was self-righteous so many times. I’m sorry for that, I just hope we can act like professionals now and try to get along, for the sake of the clients.”

 “I can manage that if you do.” Chris mumbled, and got back to reading the files, effectively ending the conversation.

 +++

 Working alongside Chris went better than expected, even if it often was hard work to engage him in conversation. You had always assumed that he was one of the most self-centered people ever, but he spent most of his time at the office, pouring all of his energy into a pro bono case, so maybe that wasn’t true after all.

A paralegal had revealed to you that the two men you were defending were from the neighborhood Chris was raised in and knowing that made you more sympathetic towards him.

 You had thought about him from time to time during the past years, but always pictured him as one of those attorneys without morals who would walk over dead bodies to win a case. But he wasn’t. He was relentless, yes, but for the right reasons, and you started to admire him for his dedication to the cause.

 +++

In the following weeks, the initial icy atmosphere between the two of you had thawed and Chris became more approachable.

He was still arrogant and insufferable, but had matured in a way that really surprised you. By now you were even having private conversations during your short lunch breaks, bantering back and forth, but in a friendly way.

Right now, he was ranting about the current season of the Mets. You had no clue about baseball, but the way his eyes lit up when he was explaining something he was passionate about was mesmerizing.

 “You look like a fish, Y/N, don’t pretend you know anything about baseball, I can see right through you.” Chris chuckled, yanking you out of your daydreams. You blushed a bit, he had caught you staring at him.

 “I was actually thinking about the case, Cuomo, we can’t all do sports talk the entire day.”

 “I see.” He winked at you, and you tried your best to ignore how handsome he was. “Back to work then, let’s get after it.”

 +++

 It was another late night at the office, you and Chris had been hunched over case files for hours after a whole day of running around and taking statements from various people associated with the case. You were incredibly tired, but the court date was approaching and there was still a lot of work to be done.

 Across from you, Chris yawned, stretching his arms over his head. He had discarded his suit jacket, and his white dress shirt was tight enough for you to ogle his muscled arms.

You had given up on trying not to stare some time ago, he was good looking, and there was no hurt in admiring what was right in front of you.

Lately though, you had started to develop some more confusing feelings about the man. But those were carefully bottled up and you intended to keep them that way.

“Do you want another coffee?” you asked, getting up from your chair.

“Please, I’m dying here. Bring me the biggest cup we have.”

You made your way back from the kitchen, balancing two steaming mugs of coffee in your hand. You stopped next to Chris chair and put down his coffee in front of him. Your arm softly brushed against his, and he turned his head to face you. Suddenly, your faces were only inches apart from each other, he was so close that you could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke.

 “You have a lash, right there. Stay still.” he reached out to pick the small hair up from right under your eye. The touch of his finger left a burning feeling on your skin.

 “Thank you.” You whispered, and for a moment, no one was speaking, you were just staring into each other’s eyes. You felt your face starting to tingle, but you couldn’t look away, not when Chris eyes were open and warm in a way you had never seen them before.

You noticed a small scar on his jaw, and you carefully reached out to trace it with a finger.

“Where is this from?”

 Chris tensed under your touch but didn’t move or slap your hand away.

“College, Senior year. I got into a nasty brawl with someone after that last party before graduation. I was wasted and angry, it was my fault, no biggie.” He murmured, and you quickly moved your hand away, worried that you were making him uncomfortable.

Your mind rushed back to that night, and the row you had with Chris. Even after all these years, the encounter was still very present and the thought that he had gotten into a fight because you had riled him up made you feel incredibly guilty.

 “I’m so sorry.” You replied in a stained voice. “Were you angry because of me?”

 Chris eyes hardened.

“That was years ago, Y/N, how about we let stuff from the past stay there.” he replied brusquely and got up from his chair. “I need to get some more files.”

 When he didn’t return after an hour, you just went home.

 +++

 After that night, things between you went back to being tense and awkward. You weren’t sure if he was mad at you and were too afraid to bring it up. You had actually enjoyed the tentative friendship that had formed between you and missed the easy banter during lunch breaks or brooding over case files in comfortable silence. Why was the man so fucking stubborn when you had been nothing but civil to him since your first day?

After a week of little to no conversation, you were close to freaking out. It was another late-night work session, and you were tired and fed up with the situation.

 “Alright, enough with that shit.” You snapped, slamming down the file you were working on onto the desk. Chris glanced up from his papers and shot you a dirty look.

 “What’s your problem, huh?” he snarled back.

 “You are my problem, Cuomo. I thought we were making progress and could at least be friendly with each other. But since last week, you’re totally shutting me out. You don’t talk to me, not even when its necessary for the case. I don’t know what I did to offend you, but you either tell me now or suck it up, because the silent treatment is bullshit.” you were getting louder with each sentence and had started pacing around the small office, the familiar flush creeping up your neck.

The sound of Chris’ laughing made you stop in your tracks.

 “Oh my God, you look just like during one of those discussions back in college.” He chuckled before he got serious again.

 “Look, I’m sorry. I was confronted with a lot of uncomfortable memories last week. Yes, back then I was angry because of the fight we had, and yes I got drunk and punched this guy because of it.” He paused for a moment, running his hand through his hair before speaking again. “He reported me to the police, you know. I had to do a whole summer of community service, and almost lost my Law School spot. I blamed you for a long time, even if it wasn’t your fault at all.”

You were shocked by that admission.

“Chris, I had no idea. I am so sorry, that was never my intention.”

He just stared back at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“That right now was the first time you ever called me Chris.” He said, sounding oddly emotional. He got up from his chair and walked around the small table to where you stood.

 Your heart started racing in your chest like crazy as he approached you.

“You just…Jesus, Y/N, you just unsettle me, you did back at Yale, and you still do.”

“What are you even talking about?” you whispered, “You used to hate me.”

“You really have no idea, don’t you?” he replied. He was standing right in front of you now, and the only thing you could focus on was how big and strong his body looked, and how good his cologne smelled. Your brain couldn’t handle having him in such close proximity, and when his hand reached out to cup your jaw, you could barely suppress a gasp.

 “I never hated you.” He murmured, before pressing his lips to yours.

After a moment, your brain caught up with your body. You were just kissing Chris Cuomo, the plague of your college years, the most cocky, arrogant, intriguing person you had ever met, and it was fucking perfect.

 You melted against him, his body was solid and warm and you never wanted to stop kissing him. Your hands flew around his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. He tangled his hand into your hair, tilting your head back, and when he softly bit your bottom lip, you groaned against his mouth and pressed your body even closer to his.

 With a deep breath, Chris broke the kiss and looked down at you, his pupils were blown and there was a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Do you know how often I wanted to shut you up like this?”

 “Took you long enough, Cuomo.” You chuckled, and kissed him again, it felt too good to just stop now. His huge hands were on your back now, wandering lower until they landed on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. By now, you could barely think straight anymore.

You had fantasized about this moment before, but no fantasy could compare to the feeling of his hands all over your body, dipping under your shirt to slide over the soft, bare skin of your back.

 With your last shred of restraint, you broke the kiss again.

 “We can’t do this here, Chris.” You mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

 “There is no one else here, Y/N, its after midnight. We can do whatever the hell we want.” He replied, using the hand that was still on your back to pull you to his chest, there was a noticeable bulge pressing against you and your mind went blank again.

Your last resolve crumbled when Chris whispered a deep “I need to have you, now.” right against your ear. You succumbed to his touches as he picked you up and placed you on the edge of the desk, right on top of the important case files, but you didn’t give a damn.

 Everything you cared about right now was the feeling of Chris palms sliding up your bare legs, hitching up your skirt and softly skimming over your panty-covered core. You inhaled through clenched teeth as his hand found its way inside your underwear, you were already slick with need and grinded your pussy against his fingers.

 “You have no idea how often I thought about this.” Chris groaned. “Just you, squirming and wet under me. God, you are soaked.”

 “Stop talking and do something, Cuomo.” You whimpered, his light touches were nowhere near enough.

 “You asked for this, sweetheart.” Chris growled and plunged two of his thick fingers inside you without warning. The moan spilling out of you was so loud that he slapped his other palm over your mouth to muffle your needy sounds.

“Shh, we might be alone, but we don’t want to alarm the whole building.” He chuckled darkly as he started to move his hand, curling his digits inside you until you saw stars.

 You groaned his name against his palm as he started to circle your clit with his thumb, applying more and more pressure until you came against his hand with a strangled cry.

 Chris removed his hands and looked down at where you were lying on the desk, breathing heavily.

“Say it, Y/N. What do you want me to do?”

 You could see the way his erection was tenting the fabric of his suit trousers and unconsciously licked your lips.

“Get rid of those trousers and fuck me.” You whispered, your voice still a bit breathy from your climax moments ago.

 Without hesitation, Chris undid the buckle of his belt and pulled down his pants along with his underwear. When his cock spring free, you let out an audible gasp.

Chris snorted our a small, smug laugh, a flicker of his familiar arrogance showing. Usually, this would’ve annoyed you to no ends, but right now your only concern was getting him inside of you as fast as possible.

 When he finally stepped between your legs, his strong hands grabbed the hem of your panties and just tore the thin lace apart. He grabbed your thighs and spread them, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. The feeling of his cock teasing your entrance almost made you lose patience.

 “Stop the fucking teasing, Chris”

 Without a warning, he grabbed your hips and slammed into you with one harsh thrust. You had to cover your mouth with your own hand again to silence your cry, the feeling of his thick length was almost too much.

“Shit, Y/N.” he hissed as he bottomed out. “You’re so tight.”

You couldn’t do anything more than grab the edges of the desk as he started to fuck you with a relentless pace, the slap of his skin against yours sounding through the empty office.

 Your let your head roll to the side and closed your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the burning arousal spreading through your whole body.

 Suddenly, a hand grabbed your hair and yanked your head around so you were staring directly into Chris dark, burning eyes.

 “I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” He snarled. “Want you to see who makes you feel like this.”
His voice was slightly breathless, and there was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he continued to slam into you, hitting a spot deep inside you and sending you closer to your climax with each hard stroke.

His words were like a drug and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face anymore. When he delivered his next sharp thrust, you could feel yourself tumbling over the edge, your orgasm washing over you and making you trash and squirm under Chris, your walls clenching around his cock.

His grasp on your hips tightened to an almost painful degree, pulling your pelvis flush against his as he spilled inside you with a growl.

As you laid on the desk, your brain was trying to come to terms with what just happened through the haze of your climax.

Chris carefully pulled out and readjusted his trousers before slumping back into an office chair.

 “Well, that was a surprise.” You said awkwardly, getting up and pulling down your shirt to restore some sense of dignity. In an attempt to ease some of the tension that had suddenly settled over the room, you added “Next time we should try it without all the clothes, and maybe on a bed instead of a desk filled with super important case files.”

Instead of making a dirty joke, Chris looked surprised.

“There is going to be a next time?” He asked, sounding almost hopeful.

 With a soft chuckle, you approached him and sat down onto his lap.

 “You can’t screw me like this and not expect me to come back for seconds.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “If you’re up to it, I’d maybe even agree to a third, fourth and fifth time.”

 Chris puffed out his chest a little bit. “Sweetheart, I’m always up to it.”

 +++

 With a slam, the doors of the courtroom closed behind you. Chris turned around to face you, and the smile on his face was bright enough to light up the entire hallway.

 “We won, Y/N, we really did it.” he cheered, picking you up to spin you around. You just giggled, full of joy and relief that you were able to win this important case and keep your clients out of jail.

When Chris sat you down again, you reached up to put his face between your hands.“I am so incredibly proud of you.” You said, your voice heavy with emotion. “You were on fire in there.”

It was true, seeing Chris in court had been like a revelation to you. He had been relentless, tough and razor sharp in his defense, all while wielding his charm and charisma to win the jury over. Everything you had held against him for all those years, his audacity, his stubbornness, they had been invaluable strengths during the trial.

But when Chris leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth, all thoughts stopped. It still was so fresh and every touch of him brought you out of balance. The fact that he had just kissed you in public made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You hadn’t made your relationship public yet, or even talked about if you were an item, but this made you hope.

Chris broke the kiss, still beaming at you.

“I could have never done this without your help. This is our success. And now we have to celebrate. Please, let me take you to dinner.” Chris said, wrapping his arms around your hips to pull you against him. By now, you couldn’t care less about all the people looking at you.

“Took you long enough to properly ask me out.” you joked, “And of course, I’d love to.”

Immediately, Chris started rambling about how he knew the perfect restaurant that would blow your mind and how they were always booked out several weeks in advance, but he could get you a table anyway, and you just smiled to yourself.

He was still a cocky, smug idiot, but he was your idiot now.

Hi again! I’ve been thinking about this one a lot, recently. How would romanced companions react to raiders kidnapping sole? I absolutely love your work! I keep checking your page to see if you’ve posted anything lol

(Enjoy! 💖)

Cait:

The very second she realized what happened, all she saw was red. Her anger was all she would allow herself to focus on as she took it upon herself to track your whereabouts down. She was aware it was a dumb decision to go alone...so she brought good ol’, disgruntled, smelly Paladin douche along with her to retrieve you.

He was a decent human shield and a big enough target.

Whenever she was finally reunited with your battered self, the red head crumbled. All that fury that had fueled her up dissipated in the form of a gut wrenching sob as she held you close.

Curie:

She just knew something was horribly wrong. When she came across a note promising your return for a hefty ransom..her heart dropped. How could she get you back?! There wasn’t anyway to get that amount of caps anytime soon...

So, knowing she definitely wasn’t much of a fighter, she employed the help of some very eager minutemen..unable to rest until they carried you all the way back home. As soon as she got you through the door she was examining you for even the mildest of injuries, hugging you

Danse:

It was such a bad idea. He knew it was too, but that didn’t stop him from loading up on ammo and bounding up to the raider’s hideout. Whatever comfort it was, you knew it was him just from the horrendous “clang” of his stomping. Regardless of how outnumbered he was nor how unlikely his chances or survival were, he found a way to tear through anything and anyone that stood in the way of his path to you.

Hell, he wasn’t proud of it but when he ran out of ammo, he simply crushed one raider’s skull without second thought.

The second he got you back home, he crumbled to his knees, laid his head in your lap, and begged for your forgiveness. Lord knows he wouldn’t forgive himself for letting that happen to you.

Deacon:

A piece of him was willing to bet you were giving the raiders complete hell....but despite his better judgement he couldn’t stop himself from racing to your rescue......by himself.

Somehow he was able to do it though, managing to sneak his way in by assuming the typical raider digs. He even had you fooled, allowing you to believe he was another one of those horrible people, escorting you away to “rough you up”. That is until he slipped you out the back door and cut your binds, tearing off his raider helmet before pressing a quick kiss to your lips...which resulted in you punching him due to you not realizing it was him.

Once he made his identity known, you were more than apologetic.

Gage:

Whosoever though this was a good idea had one hell of a storm coming their way. You don’t mess with his Overboss, you just don’t. Even if he wasn’t romantically involved, you bet your ass he’d fight tooth and nail to retrieve you.

That’s thing though. He loves you.

As soon as he figures out who was responsible and their respective leader, he’d rally the other two gangs and attack guns blazing- fiercely destroying anything that was stupid enough to try to stop him. All he felt was rage and he’d make sure to use all of it to absolutely decimate the people that betrayed you both.

Hancock:

You remember how he stabbed a person he knew quite well just for disrespected him and you? Yeah, picture that but 20x worse. You are his happiness. You are his sunshine. If you think that he’d just let that happen, you’re dead wrong.

Just to mess with the raiders, he’d show up with all the caps they demanded...before shooting the first one to approach in the face. After that, things were a blur, some people and close friends assisted him with the whole cleaning out job as he went to you.

Once it was all over and he had you in his arms, he swore to you that this would never happen again.

Macready;

In awful mix of emotions set deep within Mac’s being once he made the discovery. With an almost listless like way about him, Mac would ask Preston or Curie to watch your children, refusing to give an explanation before leaving in the middle of the night- waiting until his kids were asleep and kissing them goodbye. He hoped it wasn’t the last time, but he had to get you back.

Having packed countless rounds of ammunition, he made quick, silent work of your captors from his perch- only revealing himself once he was sure they were all bleeding out on the ground. Once he finally got to you though..oh nothing would stop the tears from spilling despite the joy he felt from knowing he was actually able to save you.

Maxson:

Whatever group of raiders did it were stupid, even for raider standards. Kidnapping a soldier of the brotherhood? Not a good idea. But..kidnapping the sentinel? Extremely bad idea. To top it off, the Elder’s lover? It was suicide.

It didn’t matter if they demanded ransom and promised no harm would befall you, all Arthur could think of was total annihilation. It took less than a day for a whole heavily armed troop to come to your rescue, mowing through the raider’s like they were nothing.

Just as you started to assume he stayed behind, a soldier equipped in unique power armour came bounding your way- whisking you up effortlessly before taking off it’s helmet to reveal the elder himself and his terrified blue eyes.

Nick:

While he wanted so badly to get you back fast, he knew better than to go in hotheaded like. As so, he’d be the only one to give what the raiders demanded- handing over the caps in exchange for his sweet love.

On the walk back he’d do the closest thing he could to crying, draping his coat around your shoulders and holding your hand.

Old Longfellow:

You initial absence didn’t seem to concern him, knowing you- you were just foraging for aster flowers. However when you didn’t come home by sundown he became worried, deciding to investigate until he made the horrifying discovery that you had been abducted.

Swallowing his pride, he’d rally some willing hands to help get you back. Fighting his way through with his fellow islanders with tears in his eyes at the possibility of losing you too.

After he finally got to you, he hid his tears behind a big smile- concealing any sign of distress by holding your head to his chest. It’ll take some time until he’s able to allow you to go foraging without him again.

Piper:

She’d flip her shit. Like for real, Lose. Her. Shit.

She’d just hope that your companions, and ultimately, her friends would assist her. Of course they would. So, as a big assembled brigade- she’d say her farewells to Nat before going off to retrieve you.

As soon as she found you she wrapped her scarf around your neck, putting a hand to your cheek as she looked into your eyes. She’d mutter something about being so scared that she lost you, to which you’d promptly kiss her to prevent her mind from wandering anymore than you knew it already had.

Once it was all over with, she’d suggest all of you to go celebrate a successful “retrieval” by going out for drinks...just to slip away to show you just how much she missed you.

Preston:

Welp, hope the raiders like having angry minutemen busting down their doors. It’s not just Preston they ticked off after all, it the whole minuteman army. So, it’s fair to say he wasn’t too worried- especially after seeing how quick the newly formed army cleaned them out.

However that isn’t to say he wasn’t also terrified, not only would he had lost his General- he would’ve also lost his love. As such, he found you as soon as possible and cried- unashamed of his tears even as you smiled and kissed them away.

Sturges:

The very moment he realized what happened, he ran straight to Preston. This time, he too would be on the forefront of shooting up some raiders. They’ve taken so much from him already, now this? They’re as good as dead.

Once Preston yelled for him, having retrieved you, Sturges ran as fast as his legs could manage to you- not even missing a beat as he took you into a breathtaking embrace, all while promising to never let you leave his sight again.

This was too much.

After this incident he’d practically beg you to retire the whole adventuring thing and settle down with him.

X6-88:

Heh. Fine. Guess those people enjoy death.

He had full confidence in your capabilities buuut, he took this as a personal slight. Within moments of noticing your disappearance, he hunted you down- locating the people dumb enough to steal you from him before doing what he does best.

He slaughtered them with the efficiency and precision of a grim reaper.

Upon finding you, all that scary courser exterior crumbled. He was just happy to be able to find you...unable to stop himself from pulling you into a tight, rare hug.

once upon a december

summary: you had no idea who you were, how you got to where you were, or even your real age. all you knew was that you needed to go to auren, and something there would help you find the family that you always secretly craved. little did you know, you’d find family far before you actually got to auren.

warnings: nothin’. maybe a little swearing possibly? memory loss (lol)

word count: 4.7k

so, not this being my first multi-chaptered fic up here… WOW. there’s absolutely no reason for me to put this out right now other than the fact that i wanted it to leave my drafts. ha!

part one!

You had known the cold your whole life.  When you woke up after god knows what happened, you were in the cold snow, face buried in it, clothes wet with it, and so that was what you knew. You laid in the snow for what seemed like forever, and you were lucky that a man was on his horse, selling trinkets that were said to belong to some lost princess of a far off land. The “Land of Always Summer”, everyone in the orphanage liked to call it. He carried you up onto his horse and dumped you right at the orphanage, and you weren’t even conscious enough to move your lips to thank him. But you would never forget his face and the way he tipped his hat, snow flurrying around before hopping up on his horse again and disappearing like he never existed in the first place. 

  The cold was the first thing you remembered, and the first part of the life that you now knew. Everything else was such a blur that you never even bothered to attempt at remembering what your life used to be, especially not when all of the other kids were around. 

  Growing up, they all thought you were weird. They had all been dropped off as young children, some even babies in the vicious winter storm. They knew that they couldn’t have done anything that made their parents want to chuck them, because they were too young to do so. But you? For you to have been thrown to the side at fifteen or sixteen years old, you must have been really weird. And to make it worse, you couldn’t even defend yourself. You knew nothing about yourself. Not even your name. But they had that covered for you.  

 At first, they called you Stacy. It was an old name, a name that was slowly on the rise again. It was easy to remember, and it wasn’t degrading, so you went with it at first. And then, one night, you woke up and shook your head, determined to name yourself, and not have others name you. You would give yourself at least that. Something would be yours, and if it wasn’t going to be memories, then it would be your name. You decided randomly on Y/N, and then that was what you were called from there. For years at the orphanage, that was who you were. 

  But you were done. It was the day. You had finally come of age, and it was time for you to leave, unless you wanted to be employed there. You surely did not. You were ready to get away from the people that ran the place, and the children that you grew up with and watched grow, except one. You were packing your bag, trying to keep the smile off of your face in order to not make any of the others feel bad. 

 “Today, isn’t it?” You jumped, even though the voice was one that you easily recognized. It was Lucas, the little boy who had practically become your shadow ever since he was brought to the doorstep as a baby. You were the oldest kid, you were a girl, and he had no mother. You were the one who was in charge of taking care of him because somehow, you knew how to take care of children. And you loved him, you loved him more than you had ever loved anything in your “new” life. He would be the hardest thing to leave, without question. 

  “Yes, honey.” You stopped packing your small bag so that you could walk up to him and crouch down to his height, his curly hair and sad brown eyes really plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m leaving now.” 

  “When will you be back?” He asked slowly, his eyes getting a little watery. But he had thick skin, skin so thick, skin that no child should have to wear. He wiped his eyes quickly. “Will you be back at all?” 

  “I will be, one day.” He was young, and you were hopeful, but you both knew that the chances of you coming back to the mild hell of the orphanage were slim to none. 

  “I want to leave, too.” He said, his voice tapering off into a whine at the end, his brows scrunching together. “I don’t like it here.” 

In every aspect, you thought about taking him with you. But you had nothing to support him with. You were sure that you were going to starve for a while even by yourself, and you couldn’t take the possibility of him being taken in by a good family who could provide for him away because you wanted to keep him close. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. But someone is going to see just how adorable you are and give you everything you want, alright?” 

 “A good mommy or daddy?” 

“Absolutely, my love.” You pulled him into a hug and closed your eyes, and you knew that it would probably be the last time that you were ever going to hug him. You squeezed him twice, drawing out a giggle from his little body. “Because you… what? Finish.” 

 “Because I deserve it.” 

You pulled away and smiled with pride. “That’s right. Because you deserve it.” You patted his head before turning to finish with your bag, and you hoped that you were fast enough so that he didn’t see your watering eyes. 

 It took him a few more minutes to say anything, but you knew that he was standing there and watching with his wide eyes, curiosity flaring up inside of him like always. “Don’t you have a coat?” He asked quietly. “It’s winter time.” 

“Sure, I have a coat,” you lied, your voice a calming hum in the otherwise quiet room.

 You didn’t have a coat anymore. You gave him your coat not even three weeks ago, when the heat of the fire wasn’t enough for him to stay warm in the dark of the night. You worked with dull scissors all night and a thick sewing needle that you borrowed without the warden knowing, and you got to work with the needle and made him a nice fur blanket. It was much nicer than any of the ones that any of you and the others had ever been given, and he was convinced that you hired a seamstress to make it for him. You took the compliment. 

  That was your clue, though. Your singular clue to who you were, and it wasn't even big. You remembered how to do nothing but walk, talk, write, and read in the beginning. You were about as smart as anyone else, and unlike them, you had no hobbies. Until you went to a village and saw a cheap little sewing kit, and it sparked something so faint in your mind that you knew that you would work extra chores just to be able to buy it. You knew it. 

 You were an absolute goddess with a needle and some fabric, as it turned out. Your hand never wavered, your aim was never off, and no stitch was ever too tight or too loose. Your first stitching was immaculate, and so were your second, and third, and so forth. It wasn’t until Sophia, a girl who had been with you since you had started, suggested that it was a clue to who you once were that you truly considered it to be. From then on, sewing was all you had. You hoped that it would be enough. 

  “Why don’t you get on to breakfast, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You suggested, turning your head to give him a little smile of encouragement. He shrugged his shoulders and bounded away, leaving you with your own thoughts for a moment. 

You knew what you had to do. You had to go to the nearest town and get a job there, wherever you could knit something. You would get fast money there, hopefully, and maybe the money that you got would make you enough to buy a ticket, one to take you to the one place that stuck in your mind like it was pasted. Auren. 

Ever since you heard of the land where warmth surrounded you and the sun came down brightly on everything that breathed, you wanted to go. The cold was welcoming in a way, but the Kingdom of Auren was said to be the prettier one between it and Yuran. Yuran was cold and unforgiving, but beautiful if one allowed themselves an open mind. You didn’t want to have to think too much, not about something that should be so plain in front of you. But Auren was far, and it was expensive to get there. 

Chore money hardly got you that sewing kit, and it sure as hell wasn’t enough for a horse, or a train ticket. 

  By the time you got to the breakfast table with your bag around your shoulders, your plate was already made. Lucas was sitting next to it, where he always sat, and he grinned at you the second you walked into the room. The others were all demolishing their breakfast, because it was a good meal today. Bacon and eggs and even pancakes, which were a rarity. A big meal was made every time a person aged out or got adopted, and it was tradition. You almost teared up. It was your big meal, this time. 

You sat down in the chair and ruffled Lucas’s hair, putting the napkin on your lap and rearranging your spoon and fork. The sounds of cutlery against dishes was almost as loud as the others chewing, sloppily and without a care in the world as they stole glances at you, even the ones who didn’t particularly care for you. 

“Loosen up, would you?” A boy named Julius asked, like he did at every meal. “You always look so… so…” 

“You look fancy when you eat.” Sophia explained in a bored tone, nodding towards the way you held your fork and knife. “I don’t know why he feels the need to say it every single time we sit down together, but-”

“Because it’s true, Sophie,” he spat, and you sighed. You wouldn't miss the arguing, that was for sure. 

“So, where will you go?” Dalia, a brown skinned girl who had the cutest gap in her teeth and the brightest eyes in the orphanage asked. 

“I’m hoping to get a job as a seamstress in the village,” you said somewhat strongly, even though you were nervous. Actually, you were nearly bursting out of your own skin. What if they didn’t take you? 

“That will be a good job for you, you’re really good at it.” The entire facility could agree on that. Every time one of them ruined their pants or ripped a shirt so badly that the caretakers just told them to throw it away, they came to you. From the time that you came and up until the day you left, you had made entire wardrobes for them all. 

“I hope so, Dal.” You sighed out, giving a nice smile when you put a syrupy piece of pancake in your mouth, not talking until you swallowed again. “Are you guys going to be good?” 

“We’re always good, Y/N,” Lucas said with a small eye roll. “You don’t have to worry about us.” You wished that you didn’t. 

After everyone was finished eating, the door opened, and in walked the tall and broad shouldered woman who owned the orphanage. You saw all of the other kids sigh and look away, and you did the opposite. You were older, and this woman was mean, but she didn’t scare you. She was bitter, but that was all she was. “You’re leaving.” 

“In a few minutes,” you added, and then kept eye contact with her when you put a piece of bacon in your mouth, nearly collapsing at the taste. God, breakfast hadn’t been so good since Susanne left. You felt Lucas tug on your pant leg, his arm reaching under the table. 

“Good.” The woman said, and she gave you a once over. “I imagine that you’d want to work at the dress shop in the village, correct?” 

“That’s my goal.” 

“Hm.” She took a few steps closer. “I heard there’s an opening there, if you want it.” She looked towards the windows. “But you’ll have to make it quick. You’re not the only girl with quick fingers and a needle, you know.”

She wanted you out. You knew that. She never really liked you, and you never cared for her much, either. You came too late for her to get attached to, not even in that oddly placed way that she loved everyone else. “When do you suggest I take my leave?”

“Within the hour,” she answered immediately. “You don’t want to get lost in the dark, you know.” You frowned. It was eight in the morning, there was no way that the sun was going down any time soon. You knew that she just wanted you to leave, and so did everyone else at the table who was older than nine. 

“Okay.” You said, not anywhere near to being in the mood to start an argument with her. That’s not how you wanted Lucas to remember you, at all. So, you kissed his forehead, waved goodbye to all of the other kids, and then got up from your chair. 

The worst part of leaving was finally approaching, close enough to raise its fist and knock on your door. You had seen it happen millions of times it seemed, and yet, you thought that you would be exempt from it. The children were always ushered back to their rooms once another left, and you were sure that it had everything to deal with not wanting them to see what freedom looked like. The warden didn’t want them to witness what it looked like when an orphan got their own wings.

“Wait!” Lucas shouted, and he nearly yanked your arm out of the socket before shoving a little, wooden toy soldier in your hand, the one that he always played with. 

Your heart was warm. It was so warm that you had a hard time forming your next words, your mind so full of adoration for this little boy who had been your living shadow, your source of happiness in a world that had given you none at all, nevermind on a silver platter. You took in a deep breath at seeing one out of two of his favorite toys, the one that he always made you take so that he could play with the other one. The one he was trying to give you had an idle gun with it, and the other had it cocked aimed. Lucas’s one won every time. 

You gave him a sad smile. “No, kiddo, you can keep it.” 

“I have another one.” He rushed out. “Please, take it. That way we can still play when we’re far away.” 

Oh. Oh. If you could have chosen to stay there with him until he grew too old to be there, you would have. You would have a million times over. You knew that he had even the old, bitter woman thinking twice about her decision to throw you out when she made a hmph noise and turned away, her long dress exiting last. 

“Alright. I’ll take it, Lucas.” You ruffled his hair again. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

“I’ll miss you, too.” He hugged you tightly, and then you were swarmed by all of the younger kids, who held you all together in the customary send off hug as tears came through your shut eyes. 

“I’m going to miss all of you, you know.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” you heard back, coming from about twenty different voices that you recognized individually. 

“I’ll miss you. Even that posh accent and the way that you eat and sit,” Julius admitted, and you cracked a smile at him. 

“I don’t have an accent, but, thank you.” You said, and you reached over and flicked his forehead. “You guys are all amazing, and don’t you ever not think that for a second. You deserve the best, and one day, you’ll get that for yourselves.” 

You looked at all of their faces, and saw them watching you. Despite how much some of the older ones didn’t like you sometimes simply because you were older, they listened to you. “You are the best children anyone could ever ask for, and if people don’t see that, they’re dumb.” 

“We don’t need parents to feel validated,” Sophie nodded. 

“Precisely!” You said, and then you cleared your throat when you saw some of them look at you strangely. “Exactly. Now, you guys remember that, okay?” They nodded their heads, and you pulled your back tighter. “Alright. I’ll miss you.” 

You watched them be ushered into their rooms, watching the backs of their heads disappear, even hearing a few sniffles. You clenched your jaw and cleared your throat, shaking your head clear of any worries or trace of sadness, and then you walked up to the door. 

No one would accompany you out there. No one was going to be able to tell you which way to go, not metaphorically or even directions wise. There wasn’t going to be anyone like Sophia, who had clued you in on your past so kindly before. No one was going to be beside you, and you were going to miss it, no matter how nagging everyone was. 

  You took in a deep breath as you felt the chill of the door on your hand, and you wrapped yourself in the blanket that came from your bag. You only regretted for a split second that Lucas had your coat, but then you remembered that he needed it much more than you did. And so, he had it. You opened the door to light snowfall, and immediately once you stepped onto the cold ground, a snowflake fell onto your cheek. 

Slowly, you walked up to the rusted gates that were probably once a brilliant silver, and then you looked back at the rundown place before touching the gate, forgetting all about rust. You took in a second deep breath and closed your eyes, because you knew that once you stepped foot outside of the gates of the orphanage, there was no going back. 

You were an orphan no longer once you stepped away. You were an adult. You were the caretaker, not the one to be cared for. 

You nodded your head to yourself and pushed the door to the gates open, hearing the same sound that you had always heard after breakfast when someone left, but it was much louder up close. You almost jumped at how easy it was to get open, and then you slipped through, shutting it after yourself quickly. You huffed out a breath and saw it fog up in the air, and then you felt tears burn in your eyes. 

You were leaving behind the family that you barely even realized that you had. And you would likely never see them again. And this was all because you wanted to find the family that had tossed you aside like yesterday’s newspaper, like you were someone else’s problem. 

But it wasn’t really to meet them, you knew. It was so that you could see what you had or hadn’t been missing. 

Your feet were moving before you even knew that they were. You looked back and couldn’t even see the orphanage anymore, and you had a strong urge to run in again and say that you regretted leaving, but you couldn’t. So you kept walking. 

§§§

You didn’t have a watch, but you knew that it had been hours since you started walking away from the orphanage. Your hands were getting a tingly feeling in them, and your pants were wet with snow. They weren’t nearly enough for you to be protected, and you really regretted not saving up for some real pants instead of a new sewing kit. 

You hadn’t passed a single road sign during the entire walk. You expected to see something, maybe even a landmark that the bitter woman would talk about, something that would spark a memory even, but you got nothing. You had absolutely no idea where you were, and you were starting to get scared. 

You were definitely in the woods, that was for sure. You were in so deep that turning back was the less intelligent option. You hadn’t heard another voice in hours, or even the sound of horses and carriages. Nothing. Where the hell were you? 

 Your foot caught a tree root that was hidden by a somewhat thick layer of snow, and you went down hard. You grunted when you hit the ground, and you immediately reached out for the ankle that started throbbing. You hissed when you touched it and then threw your head back, nearly starting to cry from being scared out of your mind and frustrated at the same time. 

“Why didn’t they give me a map?” You asked aloud, slamming a hand on the ground before bracing yourself to stand on the very tree that had got the better of you.

You only got three steps before falling over again, the pain in your ankle far too strong for you to go much further. You bit down a cry as you tilted your head up towards the sky, which was getting darker by the minute. 

You were going to die out there. After your first night alone. You were about to die. 

“Um, miss?” You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of another voice, scrambling up even though you felt the pain in your ankle intensify. “You shouldn’t stand on that.” 

When you finally turned around, you were met with a man on a gray horse, who looked just as confused as you. Even from the distance you were at, you could tell that he was handsome. His blue eyes contrasted nicely with his dark hair that was cut short with just the slightest hint of waviness. He tilted his head sideways at you, like he was trying to see something, and then the weirdest of noises escaped his lips, a strangled gasp that startled you even more. “Ale- who are you?”

You turned your head behind you, thinking that his slightly horrified question couldn’t have been directed towards you. “Do you see something?” 

“Who are you?” He repeated, his voice slightly choked yet as sharp as a blade. His horse trotted closer without him even speaking a command. He stopped a few paces in front of you, and you looked up at him directly for the first time and nearly cried. He was huge. And he looked like he could crush you.

  “I- wait, who are you?” If there was one thing the orphanage taught you, it was to not talk to men you didn’t know. It was a way to get hurt or murdered. Everyone knew that. Not even men on horses who could pass for rich knights could be trusted. 

It took a few moments of mutual staring for him to even think about saying anything. “I’m James,” he answered cautiously, like you were the one to be wary of. “And you are?” 

You kept your grimace to yourself. You had two choices; to be friendly with this man and hope that he gave you a bit of shelter for the night without anything in return, or to be rude and possibly save your life, or ruin it all the same. You were leaning towards the first choice. 

It took you a moment to clear the cobwebs of thought from your mind and come up with an answer. When you did, it seemed like he was hanging on edge for your response, like it would make a few things in his life miraculously make sense. “I’m Y/N.” 

 He gave you a look. It was long, curious, and doubting. You thought for a second that he was surely seeing through you, seeing a version of you that you weren’t aware of. He breathed in through his nose, looking you up and down. “How old are you?”

You frowned at the question automatically. “You know, it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.” 

 You could have sworn that his lips tilted upwards before he schooled his features. “Are you camping?” 

“I-”  were you to tell him that you were utterly helpless? Was that the smartest thing to tell a man so big and obviously strong? You wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to be your worst nightmare, not at all. But something in you knew that he wasn’t anything like that. Something knew. “I’m kind of lost.” 

“Where are you trying to go?”

“I’m trying to find the village, where there’s an opening for a seamstress.” 

  His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “You’re a seamstress?” 

“I’m trying to be.”

“Have you learned?” He asked, and you looked towards your freezing feet. 

 You should have expected that question. If not from a stranger in the woods, than from a possible employer. You sighed. “No, I never learned. No one taught me.” 

“Then how do you plan on becoming a seamstress?” 

You looked up at him for a second, trying to keep your teeth from chattering as you decided to shed your bag and put it on the ground, opening it up to reveal some shirts and pants that you had made on your own. “I made these myself.” He made a noise. 

 “I thought you said you never learned?” 

“I didn’t,” you said softly, the warmth of the clothes feeling good in your hand. “I never did learn, I just did it one day. And it’s been what I do ever since.” 

 He was still giving you that look, like he was expecting something more, or like you were some type of ghost or hallucination. The staring match took a while, and you were starting to feel the numbness of your ankle wear off. “My friend and I are in need of someone who’s good with a needle.” 

 That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, unless he and his friend owned a sewing shop. Judging by his appearance, it was unlikely that he did. “I should be finding town.” 

“The nearest town is about thirty leagues, and there are no openings for seamstresses—or  any job really—there.” He said. “I can take you to the nearest town, my pal is waiting there for me.” 

 You were thinking far too hard for such an easy question. Thirty leagues was too far for you to clear by yourself before nightfall, and if night fell on you, you were as good as dead. You tried to think about it, but you knew your answer. You were done if you didn’t get on that horse. “I… okay. I think I’ll have to take you up on that, James.” 

  “Do you need help getting on the horse?” He asked, and though you had never even been on a horse before, you shook your head. You weren’t going to let the man grab on your waist and hoist you up. You would fall ten times before that happened, because that was far more embarrassing. 

  “No, thanks.” You were scared. You had never seen a horse so close before, and they were much bigger than you expected. Horses were for the rich, and that was partly why you were riding with this man. If he was needing someone who could sew and had a horse, he would pay you well for something that you enjoyed. It seemed good, in theory. 

You took in a deep breath as you threw yourself up there, expecting fully to slip and land right on your butt, but you didn’t. And he didn’t help you, either. In a movement as fluid as water, you were on the horse, in the exact position that you were supposed to be in. You frowned at yourself, looking down at your legs in muted surprise. 

“I’m shocked you made it,” you heard him rumble, and you nodded. “Most people who ride for the first time can’t do that.” 

You added that to your memory bank, another clue to the screwed up mystery you were playing around with. You watched your sigh come out of your mouth, your breath coming out in smoke because of the cold. “Guess I’ve ridden before.”

*****

this isn’t what i usually write, but man, was this fun. i hope you guys liked this little part! come back if you want, and you’ll meet steve!! i hope you guys liked it, thank you so much for reading this far, y’all have my heart fr

The Most Brilliant Idea, or how Sirius Black Accidentally became a Romance Novelist (HP, Wolfstar)

In which Sirius has a Brilliant Idea, Remus is gainfully employed, James is clueless and Lily is always right.

Unmitigated fluff with minor references to the first war, AU because James and Lily didn’t die.

II

It started with the classified, the first bit of proof that everything that happened was really Moony’s fault.  There was always a classified ad in the kitchen, even when Moony was working, part of his optimistic opinion that any job could and would end.  The classified ads were always marked in pen, and one could tell just how Remus thought his prospects fared based on how he’d marked a job.  Some were viciously scratched out (potions expert and anything with ‘night shift’ in the description) some were circled multiple times (he usually came away dejected from those interviews, things he actually wanted but rarely got) some had question marks and some had a single bold circle.  It was the single circle ones that were the best prospects.

On this particular Tuesday morning while Sirius drank his tea and dripped jelly on a story about Minister Fudge’s election, the only ad that was circled was one looking for a book editor.  It was commission work, the sort of things Moony did from home sometimes.  It suited him, both because he was such a stickler for commas and spelling and because the flexibility meant that moons didn’t present a problem. The only downside was that it was sporadic work, a book at a time, and didn’t bring in enough income to make Moony feel like he was Contributing to Household Things.  Sirius always rolled his eyes.  Moony was the most stubborn person he knew.

It was then that he had his Most Brilliant Idea.  What Remus needed was a constant stream of editing.  Someone who would keep him employed on a regular basis with things a lot more interesting than editing a technical manual on the care and keeping of flobberworms.

“Lily I need to borrow some books.”  When someone had a Brilliant Idea they had to start right away, so his first action was to floo to the Potter home.  He was distracted for half an hour by Harry who insisted on a hippogriff ride and a sword fight, and he wouldn’t be a proper godfather if he said no to either, but after that it was strictly business.

“The only books we have here that you don’t have are meant for a three year old.  You and Remus had quite the library between you,” Lily replied after telling both him and Harry they could only have two biscuits.  Sirius took a third, but split it in half so it didn’t count.  After all, two and a half was practically the same as two.

“Not true.  Moony and I don’t have any of those girly books,” he said with his half a biscuit in his mouth.

“You want to borrow my romance novels?” Lily asked, puzzled.  “I don’t know who you’re trying to date, Sirius Black, but romance novels aren’t actually meant to be used that way.”

“Like I need help,” Sirius said with an eye roll.  Sure, it had been a while since he dated but that was totally his choice.  He had a lot on his plate right now with a godson that needed his attention and Moony needing looking after and his three days a week working for Quality Quidditch Supplies.  “They’re for Moony.”

“Somehow I doubt he knows that.”  Lily rolled her eyes right back at him.  “Take as many as you like, and don’t worry about when you get them back.  It’s not like I have much time for reading when I have three boys to look after.”

“Something you want to tell me, Lils?”  He looked at her stomach pointedly and wondered if they were really ready for another Prongslet.

“Yeah.  You and James are more work than Harry and he has the excuse of being three.”  But she gave him a bag for the books and sent him home with a plate of biscuits, warning him that she would tell Remus that she’d sent them so not to eat them all in one go.  It was like she didn’t trust him or something.

Once he had the books stage one of The Plan could begin.  He’d read a few of the romance novels when he was bored and they seemed like the easiest book to write.  Certainly they weren’t anything Moony read so he could borrow a bit from others and no one important would be any the wiser.  Over the next few days he spent most of the time Moony wasn’t around reading, stashing the books in the closet so they wouldn’t be seen in case Remus came in his room for late night chats or early morning bed sharing.  It was a habit that they’d never quite left behind in school, especially when either of them had a nightmare.  With the war almost two years gone the nightmares weren’t as frequent but they were always a good excuse if he needed company.

Stage Two of The Plan had a few false starts, as writing a book proved to be a little trickier than he figured, considering how many books he’d read.  Finally though after twenty-six days he had a story written.  The pining of Sigmund G Toadsnatch for Anastasia Flower ended in a passionate snog and a happily ever after.  It was time for Stage Three.

“I need your help.”  The moment Moony was gone for the day he popped around to the Potter home again, this time with manuscript in hand.

“Harry managed to get jam in his hair at breakfast and I have to give him a bath.  Can it wait?”  Her arms were full of a squirming toddler, anxious to greet his ‘Padfoo.’

“I’ll give him a bath,” he offered.

“The last time that happened you flooded the bathroom and transfigured the soap into a boat.”  She carried Harry up the stairs.  Sirius followed.

“He came out clean, though.  Mostly.”  He might have missed a few spots, but no one was perfect and there had been an important battle with a giant squid that looked a lot like Harry’s toes to wage.  “I need to know if you have any friends that have girly writing and want to earn a few quid.”  He plopped himself on the edge of the tub after stowing his manuscript on higher ground.  

“You need what?”  it was really quite impressive how she managed to run the bath, undress Harry, and listen to him.

“Alright, so this is the part where I have to swear you to absolute secrecy.  Unbreakable vow kind of stuff.  You can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you, not even James.”

“You know James and I don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a big secret, just a little baby one.  The more people who know the more likely it is that Remus will know that people are keeping something from him and then the whole thing will be ruined.”  Besides Prongs would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what Sirius was doing.

“I will consider not telling him, once I know.  That’s the best I can promise.”

“I guess that will have to do.”  He was certain she’d see reason, or more importantly his side of things.  “Now about your friends.”

“Do I even want to know what girly writing means?”

“You know what I mean.  When you pick up something and you know a girl wrote it because there’s little hearts above the I’s and the ink changes color.”  Not that Lily had ever done things like that.  Her writing was perfectly sensible, not that it mattered.  Moony would recognize her handwriting.

“Your handwriting is pretty fancy, with all those loops and the illustrations in the margins.”  Lily made a few loops of her own, sending bubbled cascading into the tub to entertain Harry.

“One of the many skills a pureblood snob is required to learn, according to my dear old mum.  Trust me I’ve tried mimicking James but it’s useless.”  James wrote in a barely legible scrawl that only those with practice could read.  Sirius envied him, though it had led to an accident or two over the years especially in potions and what time they were supposed to meet.  “But it doesn’t matter, Moony knows my handwriting and that’s the whole point.  I need someone to copy over my writing so he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“I think I need more focus and perhaps something to drink.  Hold on a minute, will you?”  Lily finished up Harry’s bath, keeping him long enough to dry his hair but giving up when he decided to squirm out of her hold and run away without his togs on.  She shrugged.  “Won’t hurt him to air dry.”

“James said the same thing once.  It works better in a warm house and when you’re three, rather than when you’re thirteen and it’s snowing out.”  He’d won the dare, though, and claimed it was worth it.

“Yeah, I remember that.  Thought he was mental then.  Now I know he is.”  Lily headed for the kitchen and started a pot of tea brewing.  “Now please tell me you’re not trying to get me to help you prank Remus.  You know my rules.”

“It’s not a prank.  It’s a Brilliant Idea to help Moony.  You’re going to love it.”  He couldn't hold it in anymore.  “I’vewrittenabook.”

“Excuse me?”

“A book.  I’ve written one and I’m going to send it to Moony to edit it, and then I’m going to pay him.  But he’s not going to know it’s me so he’s going to accept the money without being his stubborn prideful self.  When he’s done I’ll have another story ready and then he’ll be gainfully employed and happy and he won’t have to worry about what happens to his job when there’s a moon.  Brilliant, right?”

“I’m still on the bit where you wrote a book.”  Lily poured the tea and set a slice of quiche on a plate for Sirius.  The spinach was in small enough bits that it didn’t actually look like a vegetable and he might not notice that under all the cheese he’d actually eaten something green.

“It’s not hard.  I read the books you had and I wrote something like it.  Boy meets girl.  One of them annoys the other.  There’s secret longing and someone trying to keep them apart and then they snog and everyone’s happy except the evil bloke who ends up in a cellar or something.”  He shrugged and ate the food Lily had given him without much thought.  He’d been so excited about the next stage that he hadn’t bothered with breakfast.  “The book’s not really the important part, though, and there have to be bits to fix or else Moony won’t have anything to do.  What’s important is that Moony doesn’t know it’s me.  I have to rent an owl once it’s ready and send him a letter about a job.  I have a name picked out already.  Marmaduke Gaylord from Gaylord’s Romantic Press.”

“I don’t know why anything you come up with should surprise me anymore, Sirius Black.  It’s completely bonkers and there’s probably fifteen different ways it could go wrong.”  Lily reached across the table and covered one of his hands with her own.  “It’s also unfailingly kind and possibly crazy enough to work.”

“Of course it will work.”  Any doubts he’d had he’d buried down deep enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while at least.  Probably not until the whole thing exploded in a very Sirius-like fashion.  

As it turned out Lily did have a friend that could use a little spending money and had hand writing that, while not containing any hearts, was feminine enough to satisfy Sirius and more importantly wouldn’t be recognized by Remus.  She rewrote the manuscript in her own handwriting.  Sirius borrowed a typewriter from Arthur Weasley to make an official looking offer from the Gaylord Romance Publishers.

Stage Four was well timed, as Moony’s job in a muggle bookstore ended that week after the third time he’d had to miss work the morning after a full moon with no explanation.  Sirius had made sure he was tucked into bed with a water bottle and a cup of tea with a warming charm that would last at least an hour, then nipped over to Diagon Alley to rent an owl for a single trip.  The offer letter and manuscript were bound together. For an added bit of cleverness he’d asked the clerk to delay the delivery until afternoon so that Sirius could be home when the owl arrived.

“What could be so important about a romance novel that they’d be willing to pay this much?”  By afternoon Moony was feeling well enough to be on the sofa instead of in bed.  Sirius glanced at the letter Remus handed him and shrugged. 

“Dunno, mate.  Guess there’s enough people reading them to make it worth their while.  The girls at school all read them.  Tripped over them all the time in the common room.”

“They’d be better off reading Austen,” Remus groused but he was also quick enough to send off an acceptance letter with the owl.  Sirius had a plan for that as well, and a newly rented owl post box.

“I’ll give you some quiet to work.”  Sirius locked himself in his room, using the time to start his second novel, the story of five sisters all sorted into the same house  and the rich pureblood transfer student who seemed rude but was secretly shy.  The prat’s best friend was cheerful and had a crush on the main character’s sister.

“Comma,” was the comment he heard the most from the other room.  ‘Why’ and ‘bloody hell’ and ‘you can’t do that to the English language’ were also common exclamations.

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Sirius said when his stomach was too loud to ignore.  

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read and the romance is dreadful but there are some bits that are hilarious, actually.  Don’t know their goal but as a satire it’s not bad.”  The stack of papers in front of him was all marked up in red ink worse than the first essay he’d ever written for McGonagall.

“I thought romances were supposed to be all sappy.”  His main character had declared his love seventeen times.  That was what girls wanted, wasn’t it?

“Fortunately I’m only supposed to edit the grammar and not the sap.  I’m over my head on that sort of thing.  Imelda Carson seventh year said I was the most unromantic boy she’d even snogged.”

“Imelda Carson is an idiot who is now breeding pink pygmy puffs and is completely single because no bloke was romantic enough for her.  Besides you don’t like girls, remember?”

“I like girls just fine.  I just don’t want to snog any of them or…”

“Smash your bits together?”  Sirius offered.

“Yeah, exactly what I was going to say,” Remus said dryly.  “I’m starved and close to going cross eyed from this editing.  Whose turn for dinner?”

“I’ll start some steaks.”  Sirius danced towards the kitchen.  The Plan was going perfectly.

II

It seemed silly, really, to have a wonderfully written and perfectly edited novel and not do anything with it.  The original plan didn’t take into account anything outside of making sure that Remus was employed, but when Sirius collected the edited manuscript from the owl post it seemed a waste to just throw it away or lock it up somewhere.

“I need a name.”  It was just before lunch when he flooed to Godric Hollow, finding Harry just up from his nap and more than excited to use uncle Padfoot as a climbing toy.  

“You know some people do give a little notice instead of barging in all the time.  There’s a lovely front door on this house I don’t think you’ve seen in two years.”  Lily winced when Harry’s foot found a foothold on Sirius’s crotch, but really the man deserved it.

“Other people aren’t nearly as entertaining as me.”  Sirius winced as well and moved Harry’s foot a little higher, regretting it when the lad’s next handhold was his ear.  “Now about that nom de plume.”

“I thought you were only writing so Remus could have an editing job?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason not to share my genius with the world.”  He waved his manuscript over his head.  

“How many times did Remus threaten to throw up while reading this drivel?”

“Only once but he edited that bit out.  Not even I can be perfect my first time out.”  Lily, of course, rolled her eyes for approximately the 42,596th time since she’d first met Sirius.

“If you’re serious about this we should do it properly.  No more ridiculous names.”

“I’m always Sirius.”  He couldn’t resist.  After all the joke never got old, no matter how many times Lily groaned.  “Too bad I can’t use my name.  Imagine how dear old mum would roll over in her grave if she knew the sacred Black name was attached to a romance novel.”

“Sirius.”

“You’re right, Lils.  If she got too excited she might reanimate and the world is not ready for zombie Walburga.”  He shuddered dramatically at the thought, making Harry, now perched on his shoulders, laugh and say ‘again.’  Of course he obliged.

“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out.  I’ll have Molly redo a clean copy and send it off to Mary who’s a junior editor and a publisher.  We’ll see what happens, alright?”

“This is why I love you, Red.”  Sirius gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the manuscript so he could get down to what was really important; teaching his godson how to make bubbles in his milk.

II

Three months later Phaedra White was a published author.  Sure, there wasn’t an enormous amount of money in a single book, but it was more than what he’d spent to pay Molly and Remus so it seemed profitable enough, and he was more excited than he’d expected to see it on the shelves of the bookstore..

In the next year ‘Phaedra’ wrote nine more books.  More importantly with actual connections in the publishing world he was able to recommend Moony’s services to other authors, to the point that he began to worry that if Remus had too much work he might turn down the requests from Marmaduke Gaylord to edit Phaedra’s books.

“Get the bucket, Pads, I’m going to be ill.  This is the worst thing I've ever read.  Not only do I want to vomit but I think my eyes are bleeding.”

“It can’t be that bad.”  His own book had arrived that morning but Sirius hadn’t known that Remus had started on it already.

“I don’t know how Gilderoy Lockheart got my name but I’m never editing a book for him again.  Not only is it nonsense that clearly didn’t actually happen, but it’s badly written as well.”  It was hard to tell from Moony’s tone what offended him more, but it was probably the bad writing.

“Wasn’t there a Lockheart a few years behind us in school?  A gormless little thing that spent more time on his hair than anything else?”  They didn’t usually pay much attention to Ravenclaws, but if he remembered correctly the boy had annoyed them enough that they’d pranked his hair blue once.

“That’s the one.  What he knows about defense against the Dark Arts would fit in my little finger.”  Remus pushed the manuscript away.  “I can’t even look at this again until I have some chocolate.”

“I picked up a new stock from Honeydukes when I was at Diagon.”  Rule number one for the care and keeping of your Moony was to always have a supply of chocolate on hand.  “Why don’t you grab a bar and we’ll go out for a walk.  It’s beautiful outside.”

“What would I do without you, Pads?  Why don’t we pick up some curry while we’re out, my treat?”  It was a plan, and they left the house shoulder to shoulder.  Later that evening after he’d eaten Remus returned to his work.  Sirius found him laughing, his shoulders relaxed, and not a single bucket around.

“Back at the Lockheart?”  he asked.

“No, I’ve given myself a respite and picked up the latest White novel.  You know this bloke is improving.  It’s really kind of nice to see the balance of romance and friendship in here.  Less sap and more affectionate teasing.”

“I thought that romance writer you edit for was a woman?”  Sirius held his breath for a moment.  Did Moony Know?  He couldn’t possibly.  

“I’m sure that’s what they want people to think, probably because most romance novels are written by women and I’d imagine they sell better.  But I’m practically certain this is a bloke writing this.  If the book centered around a flying motorcycle didn’t tip me off, the fact that the details about female anatomy are more vague than the male anatomy seems quite a clue.”  Remus shrugged.  “I don’t suppose it really matters, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Sirius agreed.

II

“I need help.”  The next morning Sirius showed up at the Potter house in the middle of breakfast, not knowing what time it was.  James was still home, which was not the most favorable thing that could have happened.

“Help with what?” Prongs asked as he broke a banana into pieces for Harry.

“Nothing at all,” Sirius lied.  “Just a question for Lils about a girl thing.”

“Dating someone you haven’t mentioned to us yet?”  James cocked his head to the side.  “It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned anyone.”

“Yeah, well it gets to be all the same after a while, doesn’t it?”  Truth was he hadn’t had a date in ages.  His free time was taken up with writing, and the rest of the time he was with Remus, or Prongs and his family or both.  Lily had them over to dinner once a week at least, somehow thinking they couldn't take care of themselves properly.  His social life worked out pretty well, except for the lack of shagging.  He did miss that sometimes, but not enough to bother with finding a date.

“Not when you marry the love of your life and the most perfect person in the world.”  James, of course, couldn’t help looking at his wife.  Sirius was torn between wanting to gag and feeling a tight ball in the pit of his stomach that he’d never felt before.

“It’s been six years since you married her, Prongs.  You are going to be a little less sappy at some point, aren’t you?”  Of course considering how close they’d come to losing each other it was understandable.  And Sirius was happy for them, but as a sibling it was his job to raz James as much as possible.

“If you don’t like it you do know where the fireplace is, Sirius.”  Lily was careful when she stood up, her belly now heavily swollen.  Potter number four was due in less than a month.  “Come on, you can wash up dishes for me while you tell me what you need.”

Dutifully he followed her, ignoring Prongs’ questioning look.  When the water was running he looked around to make sure they weren’t followed.  “I need to know more about girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Moony’s figured out that Phaedra White is a bloke.  Says there’s not much detail about women’s bits and things in there and that it sounds more like a bloke or something.  I don’t know.  My first thought was that I could use some polyjuice and spend an hour as a woman but that’s a month of work just to make the potion plus it tastes disgusting.”

“I’m not going to ask why you know what polyjuice tastes like.  I don’t want to know who you were or when or if my husband was involved.”  Lily rubbed her stomach absently.  “Your books are selling surprisingly well, I wouldn’t change things now.  Besides you should know at least the basics about women.”

“I know that their breasts are nice and soft, most of them like to snog, and redheads have very good aim.”  Or maybe it was just one specific redhead, who proved his point by throwing a spoon at the back of his head.

“Obviously rumors at school had to be taken with quite a few grains of salt and I know some girls exaggerated because it was good for their reputations for it to be known that they snogged the ‘great’ Sirius Black”  Lily’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and she stuck out her tongue for good measure.  “But you did date a fair bit, and I myself witnessed at least some snogging.  Are you saying you never…”

“Did the no pants dance?  Nah, girls are nice for kissing and easier for dating but for the whole naked tango I prefer a blokes ‘bits.’”  

“Huh.  I was dead certain about you and that Hufflepuff in sixth year.”  Lily shook her head, bemused.  It wasn’t like Sirius had ever hidden the fact that he liked boys as well as girls.  “But if you’re here to ask me about my ‘bits’ that’s where I draw the line.  We’re close, Sirius, but not that close.”

“You are the best sister a bloke could ever hope for, Lil my love, and as such that is a completely disgusting idea that I would never suggest.  I was thinking you might have a friend.”

“I am not pimping out my friends to you, brother dear.”

“You try to set up Remus sometimes.”  And somehow each time Remus came down sick and couldn’t come to dinner.  

“I worry about Remus being alone.  Do you know when he last went on a date?”

“Sometimes in the seventies, probably, and he’s not alone, he has me.  What could be less lonely then having me as a roommate?”  Other than a bit of time during the war he and Remus had lived together since leaving Hogwarts.  It worked well for them both, and honestly the idea of Remus dating made his left shoulder blade go all tense.  They took turns making dinner and washing up, cleaned the flat together on Mondays and read out bits of their books to each other as they shared a sofa in the evening.  If Remus was spending his time with someone else there would be less of the enigmatic little half smile that made his day better.  And at some point Moony would have to share his furry little secret and what if they took it badly and hurt him?  Or worse, spread it about?  Sirius would have to kill them and then he’d go to Azkaban and then Remus really would be alone.  It would be a disaster.

“Sirius have you ever considered…”  Lily stopped, wincing a little and struggling to pull herself up.  “This little one has great aim and likes to kick mummy’s bladder.  You’ll have to excuse us, Sirius.  And find your own dates.”

II

He did find his own dates.  Three of them, in the next month, and twice with the girl from the local coffee shop.  And though the snogging was nice he just couldn’t get interested enough in taking it farther, not even in the name of research.  Sighing he decided he was just going to have to keep doing what he was doing.  Besides, having Moony suspect that a romance novelist was a man was a far sight from having him suspect that it was the man he lived with so he was still safe enough.  After all who in their right mind would think that Sirius Black was writing romance novels?

When he got home from his last date he found a note stuck to his door in Moony’s careful hand.  The word ‘St Mungo’s’ might have worried him if not for the ‘Baby Potter on the way’ underneath.  He took a minute to change into something more comfortable, remembering that Harry had taken hours to arrive, and apparated to the maternity ward.

“You brought work with you?”  Remus was already there, sitting in the waiting room with a quill in one hand and a stack of pages on his lap.

“You know how long Harry took to make an appearance.  Might as well pass the time in a useful manner.”  Remus looked up at him, head cocked to the side.  “How was the date?”

“Bit boring, to be honest.  I think I’m out of practice.”  Dating used to be more interesting, but halfway through he’d found himself wishing that he was on the sofa throwing popcorn at Remus and asking about his latest book.  The editing of the Lockhart book and its ridiculous lies was keeping him well entertained.  “Speaking of the sprog, where is my favorite godson?”

“Lily’s friend Molly has him.  The one will all the redhead kids, you remember?”

“Yeah.”  Molly happened to be the friend that rewrote everything he wrote.  No reason for that to make him nervous, though.  “She was Gid and Fab’s big sister.”

“Yeah, she was.”  It was never easy to think of the casualties of the war so Sirius tried not to think of them, not even the ones with hair and hearts like fire who he’d shagged once.  Gideon had been one of his first crushes in school, and a compatriot in war.

“What are we working on tonight?”  Sirius tried to take a look at his papers.  “Anything good?”

“Something very frustrating, at the moment.  The latest Phaedra White.”

“I thought you said her books were getting better.  Seemed to me you quite enjoyed the last one.”  He took great pride in the fact that he’d made Moony laugh more than once, and that it came back with hardly any notes other than the usual missing commas and split infinitives.  The ending, Moony had declared, was only as sappy as was  necessary for that sort of story and not bad at all.

“It’s stupid.  I’m just the editor, there’s no reason for the direction of the plot to bother me so much.”  Sighing, Remus put the quill down.  

“I’m sure the author is grateful for your notes.  You said she’s listened to them before, hasn’t she?”  Of course he knew the answer.   He’d written three thank you notes for changes the Remus had suggested, and every time Remus had been right.  Merlin’s pants, Phaedra White was actually making best seller lists and had been mentioned in Witches Weekly twice, and Sirius wasn’t too full of himself to know how big a part Moony played in that.  His publisher was trying to make him do a book signing at Flourish and Blotts, and didn’t understand why he kept saying no to the publicity.  

“This isn’t the same situation.  It’s not a small change to a scene, it’s the whole romance that feels wrong.”

“You read me a bit the other night, between the bloke and his best mate that made you laugh.”  He’d found the byplay between his main character and his friend to be the most fun part of the book to write.

“That’s the whole problem.  Byron and George have this great relationship.  The scene where George is trying to convince Byron to go on the date feels almost like…”

“Like what?”  There were times that Sirius totally wished he could talk through scenes with Remus while he was writing.  He’d had to bite his tongue more than once when he remembered that he hadn’t sent a story to Moony to edit yet.

“Like he was trying to cover his own feelings for his friend.  The chemistry between the two blokes is more natural and interesting then the bits with Byron and Melody.”  Remus picked up his quill again.  “Now you see why I can’t write that suggestion. I’m not about to tell someone to trash half their story and turn it into a gay romance.”

“Moony, w-”

“She’s here.”  The door to the waiting room crashed open and Prongs came running out, tripping over his feet in his hurry.  “I’m a dad.”

“You’ve been a dad for almost five years, Prongs,” Sirius couldn’t help but tease him.  

“But never to a girl.”  It was funny how big Prongs’ eyes could get.  “Merlin’s elbow, I have a daughter.”

“Most of the bits are the same, mate.  You’ll be alright.”  Remus shoved his papers and quill into a bag and took out a flask.  “I think this calls for a drink.  Not too much, or Lily will kill us all, but just to celebrate.”

“You think of everything, Moons.”  Sirius shouldn’t have been surprised, it was very like Remus, but there was something about drinking out of the flask immediately after Moony’s lips had touched it that felt different.

“You’re brilliant, both of you.  In a minute we can all go in and you can meet my daughter.”

“Poor Lils, she’s got three kids on her hands now.”  Sirius pointed to the dopey looking expression on Prongs’ face.

“I think you mean four kid, Pads.  After all she has to deal with you as well.”

II

“Her name is Olivia Marlene.”  Lily had that exhausted but happy glow of a new mother when they were let in to see her.  The baby she held looked pretty much the same as Harry the first time they’d seen him, the dark hair on the top of her head and the splotchy looking face.  

“It’s a good name.  Strong.”  Moony nodded solemnly.  “Marlene would have been proud.”

“Marlene would have rolled her eyes and called me daff,” Lily said with only a hint of moisture in her own eyes.  “But if my daughter is half as fierce she’ll be able to do anything.”

“Moony, ready to say hello?”  James took his daughter from Lily and held her close to his chest.

“Let Sirius go first, I’ll hold her in a minute.”  Sirius had been the first five years ago, when Harry had been born.

“Sirius will have his turn but it should be her godfather first, Remus.”  When Lily spoke Sirius had the good fortune to be looking at Remus.  The look on his face and the way his knees buckled were priceless.

“Alright there mate?”  Sirius caught him around the waist and helped him to stand up again.  “Welcome to the club, by the way.”

“So will you, Moony?” James looked at him expectantly.

“I think you’re mental to ask me.”  But Remus carefully took the baby and held her, touching her cheek with a single finger.  Sirius felt for a moment like he’s turned into liquid marshmallow, watching the two of them.

“Welcome to the world, Olivia Potter,” Remus said softly.

It was in that moment that Sirius Black, author of almost seventeen romance novels, realized that he was in love with his best friend.

II

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the country.”  Somehow Sirius made it through the next week.  He wasn’t sure how but it seemed only fair to give Lily a bit of recovery time before bothering her.  A week was as long as he could wait, though, and on the eighth day he flooed over.  

“That’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to not being chosen as godfather for our Olivia.”  

“What?  No, of course you should have gone with Moony.  Brilliant choice.  Probably should have picked him for Harry, bit of an unfair advantage Olivia has.”  Sirius flopped down on the armchair across from Lily.  “Where are the sprogs, by the way?”

“Baby’s sleeping.  Harry and James are at the park so Harry can run off some energy.”

“Prongs is probably the one that needs to run off the energy.  He’s walking on clouds, that one.  Reminds me of the week after you finally said yes to a date.”  Sirius was pretty sure James hadn’t slept for two days straight.  For a week he also hadn’t shut up, even when he did finally sleep.  He’d been well stuck on Lily long before they’d dated.  Sirius finally had an idea of what that was like.

“Probably.  Now tell me what you’re running from.”  Lily put on her best getting-ready-to-mock-you expression.

“Nothing really, only the most stupid thing I’ve probably ever done.”

“I’ve seen some of the stupidest things you’ve done, Sirius.  Many of them.  Unless you’re going to tell me you have to flee the country because aurors are after you I very much doubt it’s as bad as you think.”

“I’vefalleninlovewithMoony.”

“I’m going to need you to actually take a breath at some point, sweetie.  You’re going to turn purple if you don’t and then I’m going to have to explain to James and Harry why you’ve passed out on the floor.”  Lily patted the empty seat on the sofa next to her.  “Now come over here, take a breath, and tell me again what you said.”

Sirius, erring on the side of caution, took three breaths, decided that wasn’t enough, and took three more.  “I’ve fallen in love with Moony.”

“Now there, wasn’t that easier to say the second time?”

“You knew perfectly well what I said.”  Sirius narrowed his eyes.  “You tricked me.”

“Only for your own good.”  She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him.  “I know this bit is scary but you’re going to get through it and you’re going to do it without fleeing the country.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”  Maybe having a baby did something odd to your ears.  

“You’ve finally figured out that you’re in love with Remus.”

“Finally?”  Sirius stared at her.  

“Finally,” she confirmed.  “Other than this month because of your crazy idea about your books, when was the last time you dated?”

“Dunno.  That carpenter maybe?”  Sirius had wanted to find out just what else he could do with his hands.  The answer was quite a bit.  Unfortunately not so much in the brain department and even less in the sense of humor department.

“That was three years ago.  What is Remus’s favorite dinner?”

“Steak with mashed potatoes and lots of gravy, popovers, peas.”  It was a meal he liked to make a day or two before a full moon when Moony was feeling a bit low.

“And for dessert?”

“Chocolate, of course.  I found a chocolate fondant recipe the other day I thought I might try.”  Moony was happy to have a chocolate bar but Sirius liked to find new desserts to try.  Moony was always pleased when there was a new dessert.

“Who is the first person you see on Christmas morning and whose present do you spend the most time picking out?”

“Moony, of course.  We live together.”  Last year Moony had put a ridiculous ten galleon restriction on gifts, insisting he didn’t need anything extravagant.  His silly Moony hadn’t thought to specify that it was only a single gift, though.  Sirius had brought thirteen, but they were all under ten galleons each.

“And when you’ve had a really shitty day who is the first person you seek out?”

“Moony.”

“And when something wonderful happens who is the first person you want to tell?”

“Moony.”

“Are we seeing a pattern yet?  And before you tell me it’s just being friends let me remind you that you have created a whole career for yourself solely because you wanted to make sure that Remus had work that he could take pride in.  The entire existence of Phaedra White is basically one really long love letter, which is a bit over the top even for you.”

“I’ve been in love with Moony this whole time?”  It didn’t feel wrong when he said it.  Maybe later he’d be able to look back and figure out when exactly it all started, but for now it seemed to be enough that it was true.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always going to figure it out in your own time.  I couldn’t make you go any faster and risk it not happening at all.”  Lily kissed his cheek.  “If I’d said yes to James in third or fourth year maybe we would still be where we are.  Or maybe I would have written him off as a ponce and I wouldn’t have him or my babies.  Things happen when they’re right, and you can’t rush them.  Or run away from them.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?”  Remus rarely dated and never said anything about marriage.  “What if I ruin everything?”

“What if he does?  I don’t have the answer.  I think you have to trust Remus and yourself enough to give him a chance to hear how you feel.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Your friendship has survived war and betrayals and pranks gone horribly wrong, as well as seven years of sharing a dorm and about as long sharing a flat.  I don’t think it’s going to fall under the weight of loving him.”

“You better be right, Lily Potter.  If you’re not I’m going to be crashing on this sofa after I flee the flat in embarrassment, and I shed.”

II

Talking to Moony, of course, was a far too direct and logical choice.  It took an hour for Sirius to decide that no, that just wouldn’t do.

“You alright, Pads?” Remus asked when he spent the second hour after he returned home pacing.

“Just thinking about Christmas,” he answered distractedly.

“It’s May, I think you have some time before you need to worry.”  Remus caught his hand as he walked past.  “You look like you have one of your headaches.  Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you a massage?  Or I could read something to you?”

“No books.”  Books are what had gotten him into the whole mess in the first part.  How could he tell Moony how he felt without also confessing the whole story of Phaedra White?  Why had he never considered that at some point Moony would have to know about The Brilliant Idea?  “I think I might just go to bed.”

“I’ll bring you some tea, it will help you sleep better.”  True to his word Remus showed up ten minutes later with a cup of tea, cream in first and half a spoon of sugar, just the way he liked.  He’d valiantly tried to fall asleep in those ten minutes, but had failed completely and sat up to accept the tea.  

“Thank you.”

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

“There’s no one in the world I trust more than you,” Sirius said honestly.  The tea was too hot still but he sipped it anyway, knowing he’d either burn the tip of his tongue or the roof of his mouth but not caring.  

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Prongs and Lily having two kids now?  They’re well and truly settled, like proper adults.  Might make someone think about it a bit, wonder if they’re wanting something different.”  Remus settled on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the stars overhead.

“Do you think about something different?  Finding your someone and settling down with a couple of sprogs?”  

“Merlin no.  That sort of life’s never been for me, even if I could find someone who wasn’t put off by my special little problem.  Besides I like things the way they are.  You know how much I loved marking up papers with red ink in school and I get to add commas and edit dangling participles to my heart’s content now, with the added bonus of actually making a proper amount of money.  And I couldn’t possibly ever be lonely or bored with you around.  If I want to play with a kid I just have to pop over to see Prongs and Lily.  Seems to me being a godfather is like the best bits of being a parent without all the rest.”  Remus shrugged and looked sideways at Sirius.  “I always figured you’d follow James’ example at some point.”

“I would have had to start developing a crush more than a decade ago, wouldn’t I, to really emulate Prongs?”  It made him stop and wonder for a moment, tea slopping over his chin as he stopped halfway to his mouth.  Just when had he started falling in love with Moony?  Maybe he was more like Prongs then he thought, with less of the whinging.  He couldn’t remember a time when making Moony smile hadn't been a priority, or when Moony touching him hadn’t been a comfort.

“Not like that, of course.  I mean the whole home hearth and family sort of thing, and making me a godfather.”

“I like my family just the way it is.”  It was a little too close to the truth, and Sirius faked a yawn.  “Night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot.  Sleep well.”  Despite being the first to say goodnight, Sirius was a little dismayed that Moony actually left his room.

II

The next day Sirius stopped by to pick up his post, finding a rather sizable cheque, yet another request for a book signing, and the edited return of his most recent book.  Remus must have mailed it when he’d been with Lily.  Flipping through the pages he found the usual red marks adding commas and rearranging the occasional unclear sentence structure, but nothing about the plot of the novel.  He hadn’t made any of the suggestions that he’d mentioned at the hospital.

Sirius took the book home and read through the story again.  Remus was right.  The supposed romance of the story felt flat and predictable when compared to the banter between the best friends, and George was clearly nurturing a crush on his friend.  He only wanted Byron to be with Melody because he thought it was what his friend wanted.  It was a mess.  Sirius was a mess too, but at the moment it was a lot easier to fix things for Byron and George.  All he had to do was cut half the book and rework the rest to make sure two best friends realized that they were actually in love.

When he was done he sent it off to Molly with a bonus payment and a warning that he might not be needing her help anymore.  She sent it back three days later with a cheerful little note letting him know that her twins kept her quite busy and while it had been fun to read his stories first she was fine with the change in things.  Also it was her favorite story yet.

“I need to borrow my godson.”  The day after he sent the manuscript back to Remus for editing he left the house early in the morning.  He couldn’t bear to be around when Moony saw it for the first time.  Better to let him read it and get it all over and done with at once, no matter what way it came out.

“You’re not back on the fleeing the country plan, are you?  Because you can’t take Harry to Spain.”  Lily raised one eyebrow.

“Why would Sirius flee the country?”  James held his daughter but stared at Sirius in confusion.  “You didn’t actually break into your cousin’s vault at Gringotts, did you?”

“I decided anything Narcissa owned would probably have cooties.  Not worth the risk.”  Sirius shrugged.  “I won’t even take him out of the county, Lils.  I promise.”

“Pads?  Lily?” James pushed, not having a clue what was happening but suspecting that his wife knew a fair bit more.

“Not now, Prongs.  I’ll tell you tomorrow if the world doesn’t crash around my ears today.”  

Lily, fortunately, said yes and Sirius was able to mostly distract himself with a trip to the zoo and far more ice cream than an almost five year old and a twenty-five year old should eat.  He returned Harry in time for tea but warned Lily that he probably wasn’t very hungry.

“I’m proud of you,” Lily said before he left, kissing his cheek.

“I’d probably be proud of you too if I knew what the bloody hell was going on,” Prongs added, kissing his other cheek.  Sirius said thank you to them both, decided against the floo, and apparated home.  He sat on the front stoop for half an hour before daring to open the door.  The flat was completely silent.  

“Moony?”  Maybe he wasn’t at home.  Maybe he hadn’t gotten the package or had been too busy to read it today.  Maybe he had read it and had run for the hills.  Maybe he hated it and hated Sirius and was in his room packing for a trip to Zanzibar.  For a minute he worried that Moony really was gone because the flat, even Moony’s room, were empty.  The last place to check was what they grandly called the balcony, which was really just a fire escape with a upside down rusty cauldron as a seat and a single pot with a dittany plant they barely kept alive.  Moony sat with his back to the wall, looking out at the view.  They were lucky enough to be on the side of the building that looked out over a park rather than another building.

“Hey.”  He settled on the sill of the open window, which was the only other place to sit but also meant that Remus couldn’t go anywhere without stepping over him, which could come in handy.  “How was your day?”

“I read a book.”  Moony didn’t look at him.  Sirius couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, other than that he looked like he should be smoking.  They’d both given it up when Harry was born, though, and that went double now that Oliva had come along.

“Yeah?”  He took a deep breath and waited.

“Yeah.  I thought it was weird, at first.  It’s the same Phaedra White book I just edited, and I thought it was a mistake until I got through the first couple of chapters and it’s been completely rewritten.  I didn’t say anything about the story to anyone, other than you, but it was like they looked inside my head and saw how I wished the story had been written.  George was so certain that Byron was going to propose to his girl but instead there’s this scene, this magical scene where Byron says that he couldn’t fall for Melody because he was already in love.  That it had been George all along.  Sometimes your best mate is also the love of your life.”  Remus was still staring down at the park and Sirius wanted to shake him, or beg him to turn his head, or just kiss him and take his chances that Moony wouldn’t throw him over the side of the balcony.  

“Do you think that’s true?” he asked.  “Even when the best mate is a complete disaster who might be keeping a secret or two, but only because they want their best friend to be happy and not have to worry about anything?”

“Do I think that Byron and George are in love?”  When he finally turned, Moony had a perfectly inscrutable expression on his face, the one he used in school that let him tell McGonagall that he didn’t know anything about a prank that had in fact been his brainchild.  When he used it on anyone else it made Sirius smile.  Facing it himself was agonizing.

“Do you believe that sometimes your best mate can also be the love of your life?”  He’d channeled everything he felt and thought into Byron.  Remus set a great store in books and the written word, and Sirius hoped that maybe works written in black and white would make his argument for him.

“I think the hardest thing to believe is that I could possibly be that extraordinarily lucky.”  With the blink of his eye Sirius could see all the vulnerability Moony had been hiding.  The hope and the fear, the trust and the love.  The love he saw there knocked the breath out of him.

“Merlin, I think you just scared five years off my life, you were that hard to read.”  He pulled himself through the window and squatted in front of Remus.  “Do you really think you could love me?”

“You deserve to be scared, you bloody git.  You had me secretly editing books you wrote and somehow you became an author for the lark of it.”  Remus rubbed his forehead, like he did when something was puzzling him or the writing of something was particularly confusing.  “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Pads, and I find there’s generally very little thinking involved.  It’s a simple fact.”

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.”  Sirius Black was the author of seventeen and a half books, and it seemed to him there was only one possible option for what came next.  He kissed Moony, of course.  Kissed him like Byron had kissed George, like Psych had once kissed Cupid and Darcy had kissed Elizabeth.  The kiss had been brewing up inside him for some time and he did not stop until the air was gone from his lungs.  And then he said the words that he planned on repeating every day for the rest of his life.  “I love you Moony.”

“I love you too, Phaedra White.”

Sirius groaned, and laughed, and kissed his Moony all over again.  It was Absolutely Brilliant.

Investor Presentation

Summary: Virgil has dreaded meeting his soulmate because of how much fear they must feel from him, and today is going to be worse than usual because he’s got to present in front of the investors of the company he works for. It doesn’t help when small things keep going wrong.

Warnings: panic attack

/\/\

Virgil dreaded meeting his soulmate. He'd always dreaded it, certain that whomever they were must be fed up and worn out of having all his fears dancing through them constantly. He's scared of yelling, of crowds, of doing presentations, of so many things and worries about even more so the emotions he shares with his soulmate could only be annoying or upsetting to them.

Back when he was in school the only way Virgil could ever make friends or get through group projects was convincing himself as much as he could that it was reversed. That his emotions were the confidence, the simmering anger and flooding excitement that bubbled in the back of his head while the fear and need to escape that took over his senses actually belonged to his soulmate. The belief would never last for long, but imagining it helped at least. It got him through the interviews for his current job even.

Hopefully Virgil would be able to convince himself the emotions were the wrong way around today too. He needed all the confidence and energy he could to manage the presentation this afternoon. When his team leader had asked that he do it, Virgil had thought it would be fine, but with every thing he'd learnt since then his fear that this would be what got him fired had grown. After all, it was a presentation for the company investors to explain what their team did and how a new system would change their roles, both the predicted positives and his concerns for the functionality that might be lost while adapting to it.

Virgil knew it all perfectly and was completely confident in that, and not at all wanting to hide in the supply cupboard until the meeting would have been cancelled.

/Over to a Company Investor\

Remus was excited today. He'd only recently thought that perhaps he could try his hand at investing, and of course followed that by putting all his available funds into the first company that caught his interest and was open for investors. He hadn't thought that came with attending meeting and having a say in what happened but couldn't be more thrilled to join in.

Besides this company specialised in comfort items and stim toys so maybe whenever Remus found his soulmate he could help them. He could comfort them from whatever has them so scared so constantly through their life.

That was Remus's hope at least.

“Hello, can you just sign in here, and I'll lead you through to the meeting room the investors are all gathering in.” The man who'd opened the door was already carrying a thick folder alongside his laptop so just nodded towards the sign in desk.

Remus followed him through curiously, wondering if anyone would actually check the sign in sheet. He never included the right contact details on the sheet and sometimes got rather interesting responses when it was realised. Part of his mind was also distracted by growing nerves coming from his soulmate and the concentration on lying to themself. He'd wondered for a while what that lie was.

While thinking that he'd been led to a large meeting room that his guide was now holding the door open to. “I've been told you're the last of our investors to arrive so I'll leave you a while to get a drink and get settled before the meeting starts.” The man nodded, but placed the folder and laptop down near the front of the room before disappearing out of a side door quickly.

“And you must be Remus Nastys. I'm the manager of the company, Oliver Leband. Please have a seat or get a drink and some of the cakes we've provided for the meeting. Did Virgil introduce himself while bringing you through?” A relaxed man in a suit quickly came over, holding out a hand to shake although he blinked and immediately tried pulling it back when Remus essentially threw their arms up and down rapidly.

“Was that who the fellow was? He seemed to have rather a lot to carry and distracting him.” Remus glanced back towards the door Virgil had disappeared through. He didn't care for introductions either, if someone didn't want to introduce themself it just gave him more opportunities for nicknames.

Oliver nodded, “Yes, once of the best analysts we have. He's very thorough and was asked to give today's presentation.” He explained. “This will be your first investors meeting so can I ask what drew you to the company?”

“The products.” Remus readily replied, now hurrying away towards the cake, but certain he was being followed. The manager had that energy of learning everything he could about people's motives. “My soulmate seems to be anxious or scared a lot of the time, and I thought if I had stock in a company like this maybe I can help them whenever we meet.”

“A noble decision and one I'm sure plenty of my staff would agree with. Here we employ a lot of people who use stim toys and comfort objects to get them through the day, and often they've expressed additional pride in making the products more accessible for the people who need them.” Remus tuned out then, ignoring the clearly often repeated pitch in favour of getting a sliver of everything on the table onto his plate. It would be ungodly sweet which sounded perfect if everyone in this meeting was going to be so money focused.

Before Remus could confirm that by talking to anyone else a shot of anxiety almost enough to pause his breathing came from his soulmate and the door opened as Virgil came back in.

“Good Afternoon our esteemed investors and the leaders of our company. Welcome to today's meeting. Please allow me a few moments to ensure the technology is set up correctly for our presentation.” Virgil's confidence felt like a lie to Remus but he couldn't figure out how. It looked almost identical to how he felt when confident, minus the too wide for people to be comfortable smile.

With the meeting soon to be beginning Remus was free to watch as the smile Virgil had wore while introducing fell at the knot of wires he found while trying to link the laptop to the projector. The was another spike of anxiety at that point too and Remus was one step away from declaring them soulmates and stepping in. Over the years he'd learnt to wait for multiple evidences since declaring soulmates on the first had just caused a lot of arguments with people he'd only recently met.

Eventually though Virgil got the projector set up and working without any more emotional changes noticeably coming from either him or Remus's soulmate so there wouldn't be any interruption from Remus just yet.

“Good Afternoon Everyone. I welcome you to our offices. I am Virgil Fry, one of the product analysts of the company. Today I've been asked to give you all a presentation on the new programme that's being brought in for my team, along with the benefits it has for our-” Everything fell silent as not only the projector turned off but all the lights in the room as well. There were still large windows covering one wall so it was still pretty bright in there.

Remus watched as Virgil collapsed behind the desk, clearly panicking at the same time time the feelings from his soulmate went into panic attack levels. He'd had to describe the feelings multiple times to understand that was likely what was happening but was thankful he had.

Now that meant he could move around the table while Oliver checked on the other investors and kept the room calm to Virgil's side.

“Yo, can you breathe for me?” He asked, reaching out with one hand but pulling his arm back as soon as the other flinched and shook his head. “Okay, that's fine. How about you tell me 5 things you can feel?” It was one of the grounding exercises Remus had managed to memorise by imagining all the weird or specific answers you could give that would confuse people into being quiet.

“The certainty that I'm going to get fired for this mess up as soon as Oliver turns around.” Virgil muttered, head hidden in his knees.

“I doubt he's going to fire someone who's likely the soulmate of an investor, but that's a good start. Come on, 4 more things you can feel?” Remus commented when nothing more was added.

The comment had Virgil's eyes shooting up to look at him and hitting his head on the desk in the move. “Um, definitely feel the desk just there and the legs are digging into my back at a weird angle. That's 2 more right?” He mumbled.

“So 2 more things you can feel and then you can decide if we're finishing this grounding technique.” Remus encouraged, but reached out to start checking his head for any bumps automatically.

“The fingers of a random investor in my hair? And my nails digging into my knees. Why are you trying to help me?” Virgil wasn't moving away from the touch so Remus took it as permission to carry on while shrugging.

He grinned, meeting the presentors eyes for a moment. “Well when I've literally been able to match the emotions from my soulmate to your reactions since you came back in, I'm kind of going with, we're soulmates and I wanna look after you. Currently torn between stealing that folder to take over the presentation for you or claiming the soulmate rights to take you home so we can talk for longer.”

For a moment it looked like Virgil was going to argue before he paused. Instead a hand reached out and Remus thought he was about to get a hug, perking up a little, only to get shoved backwards. As he blinked up in complete shock he felt humour make it's way through the anxiety at the back of his head.

“Well my soulmate felt shocked at the same time so yeah, I think I can believe we're soulmates, but you're not doing either of those things. We're getting the emergency generator on and then figuring out what Oliver wants to do with this disruption.” Virgil didn't give time for him to respond, already jumping up and heading out from the desk.

When Remus got up to follow him, Virgil was already muttering to his manager in one corner, getting a nod before grabbing Remus's hand and leaving the room. “So we're likely soulmates and you're taller than me. That means you're flipping the switch on the generator. Oliver is going to reschedule the meeting now since I can't be away from the team, especially if work has been lost with this power cut. He's given permission for you to stick around and learn more about how I work for today.”

Remus could only nod along, feeling the nerves behind Virgil trying to make the decisions for the day, and fear he guessed was over how he might react to it. “Sounds like fun. Can I even have a go at doing it for you?”

“Literally only if you're prepared for me to correct you the second you do something other than the bits I show you.” Virgil cautioned, but at least seemed calmer than before now.

It wasn't as safe as Remus was hoping to make his soulmate feel, but calmer he could work with for now.

wash the sweetness off my title and give me a crown

Title: wash the sweetness off my title and give me a crown Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Tsuna/Fon Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: Sugar Baby/Sugar Daddy AU | Idiots to Lovers Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warning

Day 7: Mist Day

Lying in his embrace was what he loved--along with the tender touches, the gentle stroke, the fond smile. Seeing him so relaxed as opposed to how he usually was in the office was so rewarding, that even the money he gave was no longer the main reason why Tsuna stayed. Tsuna stayed because he had fallen for him--his sugar dad.

AO3

Lying in his embrace was what he loved--along with the tender touches, the gentle stroke, the fond smile. Seeing him so relaxed as opposed to how he usually was in the office was so rewarding, that even the money he gave was no longer the main reason why Tsuna stayed. Tsuna stayed because he had fallen for him--his sugar dad.

 Fon chuckled at the adoring gaze Tsuna gave him, thumb caressing his cheeks softly as he held him tight. "What's wrong? Are you not tired?"

 Tsuna nuzzled against the warm palm, humming. "I am, but I want to look at you a bit longer."

 Fon's eyes turned to slit from smiling. "Why so sweet?" He asked without really wanting an answer. He leaned in and kissed Tsuna on the lips. "You did good today, what reward do you want?"

 Tsuna's mood fell a little at that, having to be reminded of their actual relationship. He was reminded of how he was just temporary--never forever. He could not be with him forever even if Tsuna desperately wanted to; that was what they had mentioned in the contract. That someday, they will separate and to never recognise each other ever again. Remembering that burned his heart, like a burning iron poking relentlessly in attempts to pierce through the glass that was his shield.

 It hurt.

 Tsuna shook his head. "No, I'm just doing what I am supposed to do so there's no need for reward." I do not need a reward; I just want you to look at me forever.

 Fon raised an eyebrow. "This is the first time I see anyone rejecting a reward." He stated bluntly. "But no matter, I will reward you still. Because I want to." He added softly to cut off Tsuna's protest. It was true that he wanted to reward Tsuna. The young man had helped him a lot, especially during the party.

 Tsuna was a money launderer who was forced into this business by the environment he lived in. He had a talent for it--all the money he laundered always ended up cleaner than disinfected surfaces.

 Fon found him one fine night where Tsuna fainted beside his car from hunger. He took him in and provided him shelter in a heartbeat, and employed him to be his sole, exclusive money launderer in another. Since then, Tsuna lived very well with stomach full and body warm; he no longer needs to overwork himself with double part-time + money laundering + university and can easily pay off his tuition fees.

 He lived so well, that it felt like a dream to him.

 A year after, their relationship escalated when Fon brought him to a gathering with other underworld leaders. Tsuna did not remember what happen, but he had helped the other fend off a lot of hungry ladies and young men by fiercely making out with the other. The consequence was another contract signed: Being Fon's sugar baby.

 It was wild, now that Tsuna thought of it, embarrassing even, but he did not regret any of his decision in the end.

 Because ever since Fon saved him, he had always loved him.

 Although, Fon was in the dark, of course.

 Fon had brought Tsuna to a party the night before, one that was full with business men of good and bad. One particularly vulgar business man was trying to hit on Fon and had insulted Tsuna throughout. Fon almost jabbed him in the throat and pull out his tongue if not for Tsuna, in a calm manner, talked down the other. It was amazing to see how the skittish young man held his head high as he exposed the ugly man's dirty laundries.

 Fon was enamored.

 Tsuna pouted, pulling at the duvet to cover the lower half of his face. "... Then I want the Salisbury steak you make."

 Fon chuckled as he ruffled the messy brown hair. "Of course." He stood up from the bed as he kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

 Tsuna flushed and buried himself deeper into the duvet. At the click of bedroom door shut, Tsuna knew he was alone in their bedroom. He sighed and slumped.

 “I want… You to love me. Forever.” He whispered to thin air.

 .

 “The Bank of E, you say?” Reborn raised an eyebrow at Tsuna who had his eyes glued to the computer monitors as he typed furiously on the keyboard. “Yep.” The young man was chipping away through the said bank’s security system, planting unrecognizable codes in each of the originals. He was looking for something; one tiny important detail that he had overlooked for so long.

 His presumably dead father’s account.

 “What makes you think Iemitsu had the mind to keep his British account when he’s off the grid?”

 Iemitsu had went into hiding for almost three years after leaving mafia, feigning his death for the freedom he wished for. His Don knew, but kept quiet for old friend’s sake. Tsuna knew, but it was none of his business to keep quiet.

 Tsuna didn’t hate Iemitsu; he had a grudge with him. For what, only he knew the specifics.

 “He had it under another name. Never used it for so many years it got frozen. Just enough for me to launder it over and back.”

 Reborn raised an eyebrow. “Do you not think someone would realize?”

 Tsuna finally looked up and gave him a deadpanned look. Reborn shrugged, hands raised. “Whatever fits your bill, I guess. Your laundry, your wash.”

 Tsuna looked back at the screen.

 He found the account. Looking at the last date of retrieval, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Well, looks like that dead beat father of mine is making a comeback of some sort.”

 He keyed in the amount of money and bitcoins, and entered.

 “Not that it matters to me.”

 .

 “Exactly 19, 098, 232, 000£ has been transferred to the bank. In two days’ time, I will retrieve it and put it under investment for the upcoming projects.” Tsuna reported beside Fon’s table, putting the relevant documents on his desk as he skimmed through his own copy.

 “10million USD has been transferred over to our sister branches about three days ago; they have been transferred back in batches of 5 since then. And the last 5billion has been written off as the company asset just this morning by the Ministries.”

 Fon nodded, putting down the documents and smiled up at Tsuna. “Good job. This season’s work is done.”

 Tsuna sighed in relief, rolling his stiff shoulders. “Thank you, sir.” Just as he was about to leave for the other to continue his work, he was pulled down by the wrist.

 He sat down on Fon’s leg. “W-wha—”

 Fon gave him a deep kiss.

 “Reward.” He whispered into his mouth.

 .

 Because he no longer needed to do any laundering for the month, Tsuna went back to university and was immediately besieged by piles and piles of assignments. All were easy enough for him to do, but he liked none of them. In fact, they were very annoying theories and calculations, all which Reborn had taught him before. Child’s play, Reborn would say. Tsuna would say its just plain unreasonable because none of them would actually appear in real life.

 Like some Math questions; who the fuck would buy 151 bananas just to give them away to 20 people and count how many unique combinations can be made by each unique banana.

 Tsuna huffed, slumping onto the bench table as he poked at his laptop. He missed being by Fon’s side. He was happy that he finally had holiday from work after 3 months of cracking codes and stuffing money into different laundromats, but at least he was by Fon’s side almost every day. With him in university and Fon working, he could only see him every few days. It was just plain sad for him.

 Perhaps he should ditch the afternoon class and give Fon a surprise…

 His sixth sense suddenly noticed danger and started ringing, but he couldn’t even sit straight before he was knocked out into darkness.

 .

 Fon crushed the tea cup he was holding, murderous aura seeping through his being as he glared up the trembling subordinate of his. “Repeat.”

 “S-sawada disappeared.”

 “How did that happen? Did I not tell each and every one of you to watch over him carefully?”

 The subordinate sweated profusely. “W-we… Got knocked out ourselves.”

 Fon almost wanted to snap his head off. Reborn, who sat opposite of him smoking and drinking rice wine snorted. “Wow, I think it’s time for you to either retrain your subordinates or get new ones. I reckon you do the latter since I want to kill them off myself.” He picked up his phone and started tapping through his contacts. He looked as usual, but he, like Fon, was angered. Tsuna was Fon’s sugar baby, but Tsuna was his student first. The second and last he took in, one of his pride.

 Whoever it was, they better pray that they hide well because once Reborn and Fon find them, they would pay a thousand times more.

 Fon took the napkin from his secretary, I-Pin, and wiped his hands. He wasn’t even smiling anymore as he looked at Reborn. “Find him.” He said to I-Pin. “For every hour he is not found, snap on of these useless trash’s fingers off.”

 The subordinate crumbled and knelt, started pleading desperately as I-Pin waved her hands and two other guys came in to drag the poor dude out.

 “Yes, brother.”

 “Wait.” Reborn interjected before I-Pin took off. They both turned and stare at him as Reborn sneered, almost crushing his phone. “It’s Iemitsu.”

 Fon paused. “I thought he’s off the grid now.”

 “Apparently not.” Reborn tossed him his phone where a picture was on screen.

 A selfie of Iemitsu smiling at a sleeping Tsuna.

 Fon sighed. “I-Pin, prepare some proper gifts.” I-Pin stifled a laugh. “Yes.”

 Reborn smirked at him. “Time to meet the in-laws?”

 Fon rolled his eyes. “Yes, time to meet the in-laws.” He smiled to himself as he touched his pocket where the ring box was.

 .

 Tsuna loved Fon, and Fon knew that all along. Tsuna never realized one thing: Fon loved him all the same and he wanted him to be more than just his sugar baby; he wanted him to be his forever, in Law, in Crime.

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

A/N: I ended like that because I've no idea where I want it to go anymore aND I JUST WANT IT TO ENDAs tagged; Tsuna is a money launderer who did it for money to survive university, Fon is a boss of big corporate who needed a money launderer for both the corporate and his triad, and Reborn is Tsuna's tutor who taught him how to launder.

Iemitsu is basically on the run for pissing off a shit ton of Famiglia in Italy and Europe, and because he resigned from Vongola so he no longer has any protection. When Tsuna used his bank account for money laundering, he finally found out what he was doing and decided to 'kidnap' his son to talk and get solace in Fon's triad. That's his baby tuna, dammit. The least his son-in-law could do is to protect his ass!

:3

What grudge Tsuna has against Iemitsu, I'll leave that up to yall.

[I apologize for any grammar, spellings, etc. etc. mistakes]

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 17

                 A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 17

Sebastian Meyer spun his desk chair around in time to see his secretary drop a newspaper onto his desk. She had the paper folded back to the society section where Danny’s face was beaming as she shook hands with Boris Johnson, the Prime Minister of England. He felt like someone punched him in the stomach and lowered the receiver to its cradle without warning to the caller. “What in God’s name is she doing?” He looked up in time to appreciate the swinging ass of his secretary before the door closed behind her. Sebastian read every word associated with the story and decided his mother was having a last fling before she surrendered the reigns to him this year. Let her have some fun, he thought, a nostalgic party to remember her glory days when she was the seat of power and reigning queen of the socialites. He could give a shit because nothing could stop him now. The purchase of a sizeable chunk of stock was in the bag after his manufactured bromance with a major investor. Sebastian did his best to undermine his mother’s stronghold and convince the man she was suffering from dementia. He was sure this sale would put him close to majority shareholder, so his take over was within reach. Still, the picture gave him an unsettled feeling because she had not surfaced in almost a year. Why now? The crew had worked all night to put the boat right after the party, with orders from Darius not to report for duty until noon the following day. Jamie took advantage of the quiet morning and trained Danny and himself in the gym before swimming laps to cool off. He hated the weather in London. Hot, sticky, and draining.

Adso’s loud purring cut through the fog of Claire’s dream and she felt him head-butting her face. He stretched out beside her and kept his paws on her face until she opened her eyes. Claire rolled to her side and with a finger under his chin pulled his head up to look at her. “Ok my darling, I’m up. Is it food you want?” The door to their deck slid open for some fresh air and was closed immediately to keep humid air from filling the room. Tonight they will weigh anchor, set a course for Paris, and her intimate time with Jamie would be on hold again. She stretched and smiled at their glutenous sexual pursuits over the past week and figured she would survive the three days apart. She couldn’t wait to get to Paris and see Javier and Joseph again. They were invited to the party and would stay on board to Athens and then fly home. It felt like an eternity since they were together. Darius called a meeting of the crew and ran down the teams, shifts, and duties on their three-day trip to Paris. Maia was the last one onto the bridge and noticed Cici did not move away from Darius when she came in. She stood across from them and quietly listened to the meeting, however she remembered not a word. When the crew muttered “aye, captain,” Maia was deep in her memory, adding up the lingering looks and odd behaviors observed in Cici. “Maia? You’re a million miles away.” Maia looked around at the empty bridge and blushed. “I’m closer than you think. I gotta go.” Black Rolls Royce automobiles pulled up to the offices of the Harbor Master all day long so someone in the employ of a party guest could deliver a handwritten message thanking Danny for a lovely evening. When Darius requested permission to make way, he was told a boat was coming to deliver mail. Eighty-five guests sent a thank you note, and Danny read every one of them. The anchors were raised just as a thunderstorm ripped open to soak Ethan and Steven, who gripped the slippery hull ladder with one hand while they guided the chain with the other. Darius watched the CCTV monitors closely until they were back on deck. The other crew members were pulling furniture and lounge chairs under the deck ceiling and snapping waterproof covers over everything. When all of them were back inside, Darius and Jamie turned the yacht away from London toward open water. Danny looked out the expansive windows at the squall coming in on the port side and told Claire and Maia to close all the windows. Claire ran to her rooms and called for Adso, usually on her lap at this time of the day, getting more frantic by the second. She ran around her room calling for him and spun around to see him sitting on her bed yawning. She picked him up and carried him out to the table where they were working. Darius looked at the color of Jamie’s face and decided he finally found his friend's weakness. “You look a bit green around the edges, friend. The trash can is empty if you need …” Jamie ran for the head and over the next two hours, purged his system, in one way or another. Darius was waiting to give him a patch for seasickness, but Jamie couldn’t spend more than a couple of minutes on the bridge before dashing back to the head. On one of his brief visits, Darius pressed something sticky behind his ear. Jamie made a run for the bathroom again and Darius chuckled. After four hours of being tossed around on an angry sea, Darius could see the margin of the storm and pushed their speed to get out from under it. When Maia and Steven arrived to take their shift, Jamie almost crawled out of the elevator and got to their rooms to lie down. Claire was reading and jumped off the bed when she saw her green-faced love stagger in. She pulled his clothes off and propped him up on pillows, then went to the galley for soup and water. The chef was preparing food for the next day when she told him how sick Jamie was. He smiled and fixed up a remedy for seasickness and suggested broth to restore him. “He won’t like the taste of the remedy, so tell him to pinch his nose and swallow. Best to have a bucket nearby, just in case.” Claire carried the tray to their room and Jamie did whatever she told him to. Then he laid down and passed out. Jamie reported to the bridge the next morning feeling much better except for sore stomach muscles. He kissed Claire as they exchanged places and the familiar rotation was back in full swing. Claire worked with Danny during the day, getting her to remember the faces that would board in Paris, and Maia did research on the guests. When they dropped anchor in Paris, it felt like they had hardly moved. The night of the party, Claire and Maia flanked Danny again at the entrance to the grand saloon and fed her information about guests who were approaching. When Claire saw Javier and Joseph in the greeting line, she broke away to throw her arms around them. Javier held her at arm’s length and smiled at her gown and hair. He was bursting with pride, as was Joseph. Claire introduced them to Danny and Maia and walked them into the saloon to find Jamie. Jamie’s smile was brilliant as he shook hands with the men. Claire promised to catch up in a bit and went back to Danny greeting guests. It was a stifling evening and even with the air conditioners blowing Danny was perspiring in her jacket, so she took it off to reveal the sleeveless gown underneath. Jamie caught sight of her and beamed with pride at her smooth and shapely arms. Danny looked in his direction and smiled back. At one o’clock in the morning, Claire dropped onto the couch between Javier and Joseph and sighed. Danny smiled her gratitude at the three of them. “I owe you a big thank you for talking with the French-speaking guests. I never saw any of you sit down all night and you were all so charming!” “I left you to fly solo tonight and you knocked it out of the park Danny.” “I wasn’t alone, I had the darling Maia with me much of the night.” Claire put her hand on her heart and lipped ‘thank you’ to Maia. She noticed Ethan and Steven had changed into their day uniforms and were standing by. “It would appear we are moving the boat to our mooring so it’s time to change and be useful.” She kissed Javier and Joseph goodnight and then Danny, telling her to rest well. Danny looked up at Maia and tapped her other cheek for a goodnight kiss and they all went to their rooms. Claire clipped the radio to her shorts and heard the crew members give their location and readiness to the bridge. She pulled a t-shirt over her head and pushed her hair into a ponytail. “Claire, are you close? You’re on the aft deck to catch the stern ropes.” “Yes, had a devil of a time getting that dress off, but I’m almost there.” “Thank you for the visual now move your ass, we’re ready.” Claire rolled her eyes and jogged to the aft deck to catch the enormous ropes used to tie the yacht to the dock. When the anchor chains were quiet again, Steven popped up on the ladder and helped with the remaining ropes before descending again when they dropped anchor at the mooring. Claire was grateful for the hard-working crew who would put the boat in order before morning. She was exhausted. “Good job everybody, captain out.” Maia came to the bridge in her pajamas, eating dry cereal out of the box. Darius was writing in his log and kept looking over at her soft pants riding her hips four inches below her belly button. When she lifted the box above her mouth, he watched her breasts bounce under her pj top. “Done!” Darius picked her up as she threw the empty box into the trash on the way to their rooms. As before, Danny held a brunch the next day for Javier, Joseph, Danny, and the four friends. It was a beautiful afternoon in sunny Paris, and Darius did the unthinkable. He gave the crew the day off, postponing their departure until the next day. In New York, Sebastian took the folded paper from his secretary and his eyes bugged out at the picture of Danny in a sleeveless gown toasting a major stockholder and oil investor. “What the bloody hell is going on?” “Get Marvin on the phone, interrupt him, tell him it’s an emergency!” “Marvin! Tell me Johnson is ready to sell before I lose my mind! My mother is up to something and I don’t like it.” Sebastian listened for two minutes, heard his financial manager say Johnson had taken his shares off the table, and the phone slammed into the cradle so hard it shattered. “Goddammit!” He unplugged the phone base and threw it against the wall. The next morning, Jamie and Darius prepared to weigh anchor as the crew covered deck furniture and stowed planters in the plant garage. Ethan and Steven raised the anchors and the mighty engines came to life. Javier and Joseph sipped cold champagne on the deck and marveled at the teamwork required to get them underway. Claire, Danny, and Maia joined them to watch the historic sights and beautiful buildings glide by on their way down the Seine. Claire had mixed feelings about anchoring off Greece again because so much had happened there. Thankfully, there was no party to prepare for and they could act like tourists for the three days Darius and Maia would be onshore visiting family. She told herself to relax and enjoy the time with her godfather. The third night at sea, Danny planned a special dinner on the upper deck for Claire and her family, Jamie, Darius, and Maia. They were served by the crew, and the chef prepared a glorious meal for them to enjoy. Many stories were shared after dinner, and Claire watched Danny talk animatedly with the others. Her jawline was still defined and her neck showed no drooping skin, in fact, she was aging quite well but no one would know it because her shoulder-length hair kept her best parts hidden. She decided it was time for Danny to emerge and wished she had thought of this while still in Paris. She would talk to Danny at her first opportunity, which was later that evening when she was reading in the saloon along with Javier and Joseph. “Danny, I would love to treat you to a new hairstyle. What do you say to a girl’s day out in Athens?” “I am quite comfortable with my hair, as awful as it is. I’m not comfortable risking a bad haircut. How about facials and pedicures?” “Okay, that would be fine, I guess. I’m on shift in the wheel room in two hours, so I’m going to lie down for a bit. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Claire needed Jamie’s help for this and found him watching a rerecorded game in their room. She snuggled up to him and whispered she needed a favor. The game flicked off before her sentence was finished. “I am trying to talk Danny into a new hairstyle, something more modern, but she’s afraid of having a bad haircut until it grows out. You could draw her face and put different hairstyles on her, right?” “There is a very high price for such a service Sassenach, but I’d be happy to break it down into installments if you like.” He pulled her down on the mattress and kissed her until she forgot who Danny was. Through the night, while Claire was on shift, Jamie sat in his studio and rendered Danny’s face with three hairstyles he found on the internet. He jogged to their bed to grab four hours of sleep before his last shift of this leg. Darius was getting more uptight by the minute as they cruised toward Athens. He and Maia would visit their family for three days, so Jamie assumed this mood was family-related. “I’ve been wanting to ask you, it’s none of my business, but I’ll ask anyway. When we were at the jewelry store in Jamaica buying the necklace for Maia, you said you had two grand to your name, remember?” Darius shot him a dark look. “What did you do with your earnings then?” “You couldn’t be more right, it’s none of your business.” “I think I know the answer, but I’d like to hear it from you.” “Me and Maia have all we need while on the yacht, so I send the bulk of my pay home, to my family and hers. The economy is poor, very few good jobs, low pay, no assistance. My two brothers live in the same house as my sister, her husband, and their baby. They need every penny.” “I always knew you were a good man, Darius. What are you forty, forty-five years old?” “I’m twenty-seven asshole, and I don’t need a lecture about robbing Maia from the cradle. ” Jamie ducked as wadded paper was launched at his head and the bantering took the edge off of Darius’s mood. The anchors hit the seabed close to Athens, where the fishing was good for both pole and speargun. Darius and Maia said goodbye and got into a boat brought by Darius’s brother and it sped away. Javier and Joseph were gleefully setting up their fishing lines and sipping beer in chilled glasses. They now had a partner in crime. The chef was crazy about fishing and kept the men within arms reach of food and beer while they enjoyed the day. Jamie felt soft arms come around his waist from behind and twisted his body to put Claire under the shower water. He kissed her under the stream and felt a ravenous hunger ignite in his groin. They could take their time today, he realized, and broke his kiss to wash her hair. “It’s time for a whisky, love. Be a good girl and stay here, I have some things to discuss with you.” When Jamie left to fetch the whisky bottle, Claire went out to the deck with her nail kit and put a fresh coat of polish on her fingernails. Jamie set a whisky in front of her and watched the process with mild interest. He stood behind her and pulled the string holding her bikini top on, letting it fall to the deck, then he carried her to a lounge. Claire kept her hands in the air so he wouldn’t smudge the polish, and Jamie smiled wickedly at her. “Let me pamper you, love. Give me your foot.” He found all kinds of creams and scrubs in her caddy and settled on a soothing gel that he applied to her feet, calves, and thighs, covering an inch at a time very slowly. He massaged her inner thighs until she was panting, taking care not to touch her most intimate places. This was about seduction, and that required a soft touch. Pulling her foot into his lap, he sat down on the deck and held up bottles of polish until she picked one. The hours he had watched her manicure her toes paid off when he brought out each tool for cuticles, filing, and smoothing. When the paint rolled onto her toenails, he could see her thighs quivering slightly and smiled with his bowed head. When the first foot was done, he licked from her knee to her core, pulling her bikini bottom to the side and pulling his soft, wet tongue up her fold. The fabric was returned to normal and he grabbed the other foot for the same treatment while she panted and tried to slow her heart rate. It took an excruciatingly long time to paint five toenails and drink two shots of whisky. Claire was growling with need and gave her love a warning look to finish what he started. It took another hour but finish he did and they curled up on the lounge for a happy siesta. By mid-afternoon, Claire found Javier, Joseph, and the chef, drunk, sunburned, and deliriously happy. To her surprise, Danny had joined them and was holding two of their poles with lines in the water. She greeted Claire with a happy smile, so excited to be fishing. “Claire! Look, I am fishing for my supper, isn’t that fantastic? I haven’t caught a single fish yet, but I am determined.” Javier looked at Joseph and asked if he baited the hooks to which Joseph raised his shoulders and giggled. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Give me a pole Danny so I can check your hook.” Soon there was a spinning lure attached to the line and cast far into the water. Claire handed the pole back to Danny with a warning that the fish were large and might pull the pole out of her hands if she wasn’t ready. Danny squealed with delight and watched the water with anticipation. Claire baited the other hook and sat next to Danny, trying to ignore the loud snoring of the three men who were now sleeping in the shade. Claire’s pole jerked violently, and she heard the line running out as the fish dove deep to get away from the hook. She counted five seconds and pushed the lock on the reel, almost losing the pole when it jerked back hard. Danny dropped her pole in her excitement to help Claire, and it jerked on the deck when another fish swallowed her hook and then tried to get away. Fortunately, the pole was pulled along the deck sideways and got caught by rail mountings so they didn’t lose it. Both women were screaming and laughing, trying to reel in the first fish. Jamie’s head jerked up hearing the chaos outside. His book forgotten, he ran to the deck and watched Claire and Danny pull the same pole, losing themselves in laughter. He grabbed the other pole and demonstrated how to reel and pull the fish, but they were hopelessly lost in their fun. He felt the fish release his line and swim to freedom while he reeled in the hook and set the pole aside to help Claire. From behind Claire, he moved her hands, holding them still while the fish ran the line out again, and then pulling up sharply to set the hook deeper. Danny held onto the pole like it was a lifeline while she bent over laughing. When the fish was exhausted, Jamie had them walk the pole and fish along the side deck where he could net the beautiful sunfish that would feed them that night. Claire and Danny jumped around the aft deck, lost in their celebration. Jamie made quick work of gutting the fish and cutting away the parts that were unusable. The chef roared from the side deck to stop as Jamie was about to throw the head far from the boat. “That head will make the best fish head soup!” The chef took command of the fillets and head and left them for the galley, very excited at their catch. Danny showed Claire how to wash with soap and then cut lemon sections to rid the skin of the fishy smell. Danny went to lie down until dinner and the crew was cleaning the main saloon, so Claire went outside to fetch her godfather and Joseph off the deck. They went down to their rooms to tend their sunburned skin and nap. Jamie pulled Claire to their rooms and closed the door before pushing a button that pulled the blackout shades down the massive windows. He pulled Claire to the bed and suggested a movie to which she happily agreed. “This is a classic that I found in the video library upstairs. I think you will really like it.” Claire cuddled up to Jamie when the movie started and was well into the story before it suddenly heated up with erotic scenes between two lovers. She couldn’t pull her eyes away as the characters showed body parts she didn’t expect to see. Jamie watched her face flush as the scenes became more erotic and he chuckled, suggesting they watch something else. “No! I mean, don’t you want to see how it ends?” “As you say, love.” Claire lost herself in the beautiful actors and for the first time, watched a woman making love as her breasts bounced with the pounding. The woman’s inner thighs looked so soft as she spread them for the man’s mouth moving toward her core. When the sex got rough, Claire’s panting was giving her arousal away. “Should we find another, sweetheart?” Jamie pulled her in front of him, between his legs, and pressed her back against his chest in a relaxed posture. Claire was hypnotized by the sex scenes and hardly noticed Jamie pulling her feet to the sides to open her legs. When he touched her, it was like a firebomb to kindling and he gave her all the thrills she had just seen. When they collapsed, gasping for breath, Claire was panting out “how” and “why” and certain unintelligible words making Jamie chuckle. “It takes a bit of work the second time in the same day, love.” “Wow, that was… wow.” After another shower, they finally stumbled to the table for dinner and Jamie was still chuckling at her deer in the headlight eyes. She needed help to come back to the here and now, even though he loved her expression and blush. “Sassenach, how do you like the fish you girls caught today?” “Hmm?” “The fish, how do you like it?” Claire looked at her plate like she just realized she was chewing food. “It’s wonderful! I really love it.” She and Danny started talking about the next party, and Jamie knew she was back on earth. He missed his starry-eyed wife instantly. They shared a closeness for the rest of the evening and he cuddled her in their bed that night wanting to hold her close all night long, but that was not going to happen. Jamie’s eyes would not close, his breathing would not deepen, and his mind felt like a pinball game in play. He rolled quietly out of bed and made his way to the studio. A painting was clamoring to get out, and he felt the crushing responsibility to get it right.   Sunrise filled the studio with light as the third canvas was sent to the failure-closet, so named that very night because it had not happened to him before. He went to his sketch pad to work out the dimensional issues and used colored pencils to test the color differences. If he couldn’t find the skill to paint it accurately, he wouldn’t do it. It was that important. Jamie knew Claire would be up soon and he wasn’t ready to share this picture yet, so he put his drawings away and put the five-lads on the easel, then he went to snuggle with his wife. Claire hugged Javier for a full minute, and then Joseph. She wiped a tear off her cheek and smiled bravely wishing them a good flight back to Paris. They both turned in their seat and waved as the taxi pulled away. “Darius and Maia return tomorrow and then we weigh anchor for strange places Sassenach. Perhaps the three of us sit on the deck today and fish. What do you say?” Danny jumped to fetch whatever Claire needed that afternoon. She could feel her melancholy, and her maternal instincts took over. At least until the first pole nearly bent in half from a monster fish that latched onto Jamie’s hook. The women abandoned their poles to render aid that was not needed, and Jamie tried to reach his pocket when he felt his phone vibrate. It was hopeless reaching through the women’s glee, so he held his pole out to the side with one hand and clicked to answer the call. “What the hell is going on over there?” “Two excited women helping me boat a fish, but it could be long gone by now because I can’t feel the pole move anymore. What’s up?” Jamie listened to the instructions given, “on my way.” Handing the pole to Claire, he excused himself to tender Darius back to the yacht, and Claire looked confused when the pole was no longer bouncing. It was obvious Darius was hurt and Jamie helped him into the tender without commenting on his bulging eye that was swollen shut, his bloody mouth, or his arm held tightly to his side. “Hospital?” Darius shook his head, “boat.” Darius crept into the saloon hoping to make it upstairs before anyone saw him but the stairs were impossible. He turned around to use the elevator and heard Claire’s voice as he winced from his broken ribs. “Don’t you fucking move, Darius.” She led him to the galley by his good hand and pulled his sunglasses off while he voiced his complaint. Claire grabbed the emergency kit, a frozen steak, and led him up to his rooms. He couldn’t lay down because the position drove the broken ribs into his lungs so Claire cleaned the wounds as best she could. “I didn’t know you had such a crush on me, Claire.” “Shut up, you idiot. What happened to you?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” Jamie found Danny cleaning up the fishing gear and looking worried. “He probably told you to leave him alone, and while that works most of the time, it will not work today. Maia knows what to do so get her back here so she can help him. Jamie, please do this.” Jamie was naturally resistant to Danny’s gift, but he heard the edge in her voice and reached for his phone. Twenty minutes later, a wide-eyed Maia was climbing into the tender asking how bad the injuries were. She interrupted his explanation saying she could swim faster than he was going so he pushed the tender to its limit and soon they were flying across the water. Maia could hear Claire arguing with Darius as she approached their rooms and kindly asked Claire to wait downstairs. She glanced at Darius and saw his tears of pain and frustration. So she helped Claire exit the room and locked the door behind her. Claire could hear them talking and ripping packages of emergency supplies. She was terrified and crying, having never seen anyone fresh from a brutal fight. Jamie put his arm around her and led her downstairs where the three of them waited in the saloon to hear more about his injuries. Maia cleaned the wounds, wrapped his ribcage, and slapped his good hand when he tried to loosen the ace bandage constricting his breath. She pushed a pain pill into his mouth and moved her finger along the base of his teeth searching for a loose wiggle. Ten minutes later he could lie down, gingerly. She knelt next to the bed and put her head down, fighting the tears she didn’t want Darius to see. His good hand stroked her hair, and he whispered to her that everything was alright. When she gave in to the sobs, he held her as best he could and reminded her he was the captain with a job to do and she was expected to help him for a little while. “Darius, of course I will. I’ll pull the boat with my bare hands if you ask me to!” She held his hand against her cheek and searched his face, feeling relief when he smiled at her. “It’s alright,” he said, stroking her hair. “My face scared you, but you patched me up with a steady hand, and now you need to cry a bit. It’s okay to cry, and then I wonder if you might tell the others what happened so we can all shake it off and depart in two days.” Maia could see he was asleep and covered him before going downstairs. Her eyes were puffy from crying and nothing would change that, so she walked into the saloon and told them what happened. “Darius sends most of his pay to his family and mine. His sister lives in a small house with her baby and husband, and Darius’s two brothers moved in a year ago because they were homeless. Darius said the house was a horrible mess. The front door had been kicked in, glass was missing from windows, the baby was crawling through filth. His sister is afraid of the brothers who spent all the money Darius has sent. Her husband leaves on Monday to work on Mykonos and he is gone all week. Darius ordered them out of the house and called the husband, telling him to walk off the job and come home to protect his family. Darius said he would cover his pay. They jumped him and beat the shit out of him.” Maia looked up, “sorry for my language. He has a job to do and I will help him. We leave in two days, nothing has changed.” Danny held her hand up to stop Maia and seemed to struggle with the right words. “I know it’s hard for the four of you to accept my gift, and I don’t talk about it much, but I have to tell you something. Darius suffered an impact to his abdomen, a kick I think, and his spleen is bleeding. I can see it bleeding and it might have to come out. If I could get close to him I will know for sure. This could threaten his life, so we shouldn’t wait. Please wake him and ask if I can see him, Maia.” “C’mon.” When Darius didn’t wake up right away, Maia got scared and shouted at him. She squeezed his hand and apologized. “Is the boat on fire, sweets?” “No. Darius, were you kicked in the stomach?” “No.” He closed his eyes again and Maia muttered about Danny being wrong as she walked to the door. “Maia, yes, I was kicked in the stomach, several times. Why?” “Danny needs to see you. Something about your spleen is bleeding. Can I let her in, please?” “Yes.” Danny entered and reached for his hand, looking concerned. He watched her. “I can’t tell if it’s going to stop. We can go to the hospital now or I can check you later.” “Check later if you would, I don’t like hospitals.” “Alright, dear Darius.”   Danny left and Maia sat on the floor and put her head near his on the mattress. She stroked his arm until she was sure he was asleep again. “I love you so much, Darius.” “I love you too, sweet one.” Jamie and Claire finally said goodnight and Danny went to the elevator and her rooms. All through the night, she monitored Darius, sneaking into their room to lay her hand on his foot. On one visit, she put a blanket around Maia and pulled the covers around Darius. Her last visit was at five o’clock in the morning. She kept her hand on his foot because she wanted to be sure. “You did it, young man,” she whispered, “no splenectomy for you, so kindly put your cape back on, and save the day… when you’re ready.” Danny was exhausted and desperately wanted to lie down on her bed. She rode the elevator down to her floor and held the wall as she walked. She was proud of Darius for his decision to heal. Later, Jamie spent some time with Darius and he was particularly sarcastic and funny because Darius begged him to stop making him laugh. Jamie decided that was enough painful levity for one day and left, grabbing Maia in the hall. “Maia, I have spent too much time with Darius and I don’t want to wake him up. He asked me to alert the authorities that his sister should be alone in the house waiting for her husband, but he didn’t give me the address.” Jamie pulled a notepad out of his pocket and had a pen poised to write it down. He started to move down the hall like he was in a hurry and raised his eyebrows at her. She gushed the address out and then went into their rooms. Jamie pushed the pad into his pocket and went downstairs with a face that could murder a man just looking at it. After dinner, Jamie pulled Claire into their rooms and made passionate love to her. She mumbled something about her jello legs as she slipped into her dreams. He waited until she was deep enough not to feel him roll out of bed or hear him dress. He jumped in the tender and paddled halfway to shore to avoid waking anyone. He had a mission to complete before they left in the morning. Danny stood in the dark saloon and watched Jamie paddle the tender. She was conflicted about raising the alarm or letting it happen. She whispered, “forgive me, Jamie,” and went back to bed. Jamie leaned against a large tree and dozed for half the night, waiting for the brothers. He would bet his last dollar they hadn’t left and Jamie knew the husband would not be back until the next day. His head jerked up hearing the drunken laughter of two men approaching. They staggered toward the sister’s house and Jamie cleared his throat to make them turn around.   One of them addressed him in what sounded like gutter slang and Jamie smiled like an altar boy and pulled his wallet out. The men approached so Jamie lowered the wallet so they would see the large bills he thumbed through as he talked about paying them off to stay away from the sister. He was not getting through to them so he said, “Darius,” and waited. One of them shoved a fist in Jamie’s face.   “We take your money and drop you in the deep ocean. No worry, you be dead.”   Jamie’s eyes were wide with fright and he backed into the tree with his hands in a defensive position. They were smiling at each other coming toward him when Jamie suddenly stood upright and laughed, stopping them in their tracks.   “Oh! I.. I know who you two are, you beat the shit out of my friend, your own brother!” He was still laughing while the men shot glances at each other. “You know, Darius said you guys fight dirty.” More laughter. “What a relief! Because so do I.”   Jamie jumped up and grabbed a tree limb, driving his feet into one man’s face. He dropped to the ground and pulled his jacket off showing the second man his sleeveless t-shirt and the bulging muscles in his arms. Before the man could run, he grabbed his long greasy hair, and drove his knee into his back, flipped him around and pummeled his face until the man collapsed on the ground.   Jamie grabbed the last of the rope he brought and wound it around the man’s legs. Both of them were tied to different trees with no possibility of escape. Jamie hoped the husband would be the first to find them. He pushed a note under the ropes and put his jacket back on. He had a naked wife waiting for him in a big warm bed. He headed for the tender. Danny thrashed in her bed, having one hell of a nightmare. She saw men fighting and one of them run away. Suddenly, the man stopped and looked directly at her, “it’s alright Danny, I won, rest now,” came the echo of his disembodied voice. Her eyes flew open and she sat up in her bed, gasping for air. She felt the presence of Jamie above her and sighed her relief as she dropped back to her pillows, feeling much better.

Volume 1, Chapter 9-Family

Quick notes: I'm switching to one update every two weeks for now (sorry my schedule is really busy with new job) and will update on my twitter if I cannot make the biweekly Friday updates...o-(-( trying to rope another translator in, so we shall see how that goes! Chapter 10 and 11 are both pretty short so I think we should be good for those chapters. Okay on to the main course: enjoy!

Content warnings: n/a

For three straight days, the mountain villa became unusually lively yet again; it was all because the elder Young Master Shen had come back from the gates of death.

In the midst of this clamoring noise, Shen Qingxuan was as calm as usual. Dressed in a crescent white robe, he sat on the chair with a smile and easily accepted the concern that came from all directions. He nodded and listened attentively in a modest and well-mannered way while maintaining a cultured and refined manner.

This stirred another wave of pitying voices that all said, Such a good kid, and yet fate would tease in such a way.

Shen Qingxuan had already perfected an entire body of copper skin and iron bones towards these pitying words, so when he heard them, naturally, they did not hurt or itch. Yet these words stirred the thoughts of Mother Shen who was next to him. She shed tears several times, and yet she feared that Shen Qingxuan would be even more upset once he saw her, so she swiftly hid her face by turning away to wipe her tears.

How could these actions of hers hide from Shen Qingxuan’s sharp eyes. With the affinity between a mother and a child, Shen Qingxuan knew what she was thinking, so he also pretended that he did not see her and shifted his gaze onto other people.

When the banquet opened, Shen Qingxuan had the servant girl push him from the table to leave. Everyone knew that Shen Qingxuan’s body was frail and could not drink wine, simultaneously, he was still recovering from a serious illness so he could not accompany the guests and tax his mind. Thus, one after another, they urged him to rest well and waited for Shen Qingxuan to leave before they started toasting and drinking wine to their fill.

-

Shen Qingxuan returned to his room and listened briefly to the outside noise through his window lattice before he laughed bitterly to himself. Who knows how many times these kinds of banquets had been held, and who knows how many more times they will be held in the future. Who knows?

Even if Yi Mo helped him, and allowed him to be no different from any other person after this year, he, however, still did not know what hardships he would suffer in the future.

-

Feng shui fluctuated and worldly affairs were fickle.

Ever since he was resuscitated from the ice cave, Shen Qingxuan finally understood the meaning of these eight words that his father constantly uttered from his mouth.

Who could have expected that the gentle and mild beauty from a humble family, who had bashfully and timidly married into the Shen family for three years—his second mother, who previously cared for him extremely well, would employ someone to almost take his life?

He had never even considered it.

Even remembering it now, after so many years coolly observing as a bystander, the pain was just as fresh.

-

Right as he was lost in thought, there came the sound of a set of hurried footsteps from the courtyard. The footsteps were quite brisk and carried impatience as well as the unique heavy sound of an official’s boots. Shen Qingxuan’s gloomy eyes lit up slightly, the smile he always wore on his face also showed some sincerity.

“Gege!” The doors were suddenly pushed open, stirring up bits of dust. The sun shone in from the outside and revealed a clean-cut face in between the dancing dust particles. Because it was a meeting with family, that heroic and spirited face carried some of the rashness of a child.

When he saw his elder brother sitting on the chair and looking at him with an expression full of smiles, the young man was embarrassed all of a sudden. He quickly drew back his hand, and recovered a degree of steadiness before he said in greeting, “Gege.”

Shen Qingxuan beckoned with his hand, calling the man over to his side. Then he grabbed the man’s hand to pull down that tall body, flicked the man’s forehead with his finger out of habit, and said silently, I thought you had made some progress, how are you still this reckless.

Ever since childhood, Shen Zhen has been able to read his elder brother’s lips. He hastily used a hand to massage his unscathed forehead and harrumphed, “I wanted to be more reserved, but I was worried I would scare you into not recognizing me as your very own didi.”

Hearing this, Shen Qingxuan smiled while he stroked his brother’s neatly bound hair piece

, and asked, How did you have time to come see me today?

“Gege just recovered from a serious illness, how could I not come?” Shen Zhen squatted down with one hand propped on his elder brother’s leg and moved in front of him to act like a spoiled child, just like when they were children. His eyes were full of faith and dependence only possible between one’s flesh and blood, a bond thicker than water. Shen Qingxuan looked at this face that was remarkably similar to his second mother’s face, and could only feel tranquility in his heart. Towards this face that had stuck to his side from childhood, he really could not summon any hatred.

Even if he knew full well that he was reduced to this sorry state today all because of this person.

The second son of the Shen family, who had just turned one year old that year.

-

Master Shen had once held his eldest son with one arm and with his other arm, he cradled his second son who was still in his swaddling clothes, sucking on his thumb and quietly sleeping. Then he turned to his two wives and said, full of pride, “In the future, this eldest son of mine will bring honor to our Shen family and receive noble titles. When we get old in the future, the matters of our support and burials will depend on this little guy. In this way, the Shen family is basically perfect."

All the expectations in his words fell on Shen Qingxuan who was merely seven years old.

He only saw his eldest son’s intelligence and considered the Shen family status, but he never saw the smiles of his two wives who were standing in front of him, and how much reluctance and grievance was hidden in the smile on one of the two faces.

Why? Just because he was the second son, so he could only end up with a captive-at-home, mediocre, and nameless future for the rest of his life?

The woman was narrow-minded, and at the time, did not consider that each person had their own fate. If indeed her son worked hard, how could Master Shen disregard his son’s future? It was nothing more than careless words said in a moment of joy. Yet she took it seriously. She developed malicious intentions and harmed Shen Qingxuan for the rest of his life.

When she finally understood this, the transgression had already been committed.

-

With a pat on the back of the youth who laid on his knees, Shen Qingxuan looked at him as he said, After becoming an official, you have probably fallen behind on the sword and spear, no?

Shen Zhen shook his head at once. “There is no such thing. If gege does not believe it, we can go to the courtyard and I will perform for you.”

Shen Qingxuan laughed as he nodded, and Shen Zhen promptly got up to push him. The two brothers went out the doors of the room, stopping in the spacious area in the middle of the courtyard.

Shen Zhen retrieved a long staff, flashed a showy move, and said while holding the staff, “Gege look closely, didi is showing off the staff for you.”

Shen Qingxuan was still smiling a smile without restraint.

Seeing this, Shen Zhen also grinned. The wooden staff in his hand started to move around like a nimble snake. As he brandished the staff, it swept up a whistling wind, stirring dust in every which way and blurring light and shadow. When he struck the ground, it reverberated with a heavy sound, and with a great force, trenches appeared in the sandy yellow soil.

Shen Qingxuan watched closely, enthralled until a set of staff exercises were completed and he promptly clapped his hands, not at all hiding his desire to praise him.

After receiving his eldest brother’s praise, Shen Zhen became even more pleased with himself. He tossed aside the staff, picked up a spear, and flaunted another set of spear exercises for Shen Qingxuan to watch. It was slightly inferior to his staff technique, yet it still gave a vigorous feeling of strength.

-

The two brothers were in the courtyard, one person performing for the other to watch. They played until the red sun set into the evening, then Shen Qingxuan indicated for him to stop and called for a servant to bring over a wet cloth and hot tea.

Shen Zhen noisily downed a cup of tea, wiped the sweat from his face, then moved closer towards Shen Qingxuan again, and said, “Gege, do you have any advice?”

Shen Qingxuan cast a sidelong glance at him, What advice do I have for you?

Shen Zhen laughed mischievously, “Gege come on, dad said when you were little you liked to brandish spears and play with sticks. You even secretly took the martial arts teacher’s polearm to poke a bird’s nest and made the master really angry, do you dare deny this?”

Hearing this, Shen Qingxuan thought back and vaguely recalled some pieces, but could not remember more concrete details.

These old affairs from years ago, if Shen Zhen had not mentioned them, Shen Qingxuan could not have thought of them. Even though Shen Zhen mentioned them now, he still could not remember.

Occasionally, there were fragments that floated and flashed across his mind, but he did not think those things had happened to him.

Those past events felt faintly like a previous life, or perhaps an even more distant time ago, that was soaked by the yellowing of time into a sheet of brittle and thin paper, breaking with just one touch.

Fragmented and incomplete.

Shen Qingxuan’s expression slightly dimmed into gloominess.

-

Shen Zhen realized he misspoke and changed the topic at once. He tugged the hand Shen Qingxuan was resting on his knee, and said eagerly, “Gege, I get to visit the mountains for once, and you made me work this half-day. How about you play a board of chess with me?”

Shen Qingxuan roused his spirits and asked, What happens if you lose?

Shen Zhen rubbed his temples, then whispered near his elder brother’s ear, “Like old times?”

Shen Qingxuan became happier too and nodded in agreement as the two men went back inside.

-

They let the serving boys send the tea and pastries into the room. After everything was prepared in order, Shen Zhen fastened the doors and windows tightly and checked again if they were secure or not. It was like he was deeply afraid of someone discovering something and had the guilty expression of an uneasy thief. Watching this, Shen Qingxuan could not stop his muffled laughter.

The cushioned mat was spread out on the daybed and the two of them sat opposite each other. Shen Qingxuan wiped the chessboard again then took out the black and white pieces and asked, Like old times?

Shen Zhen nodded his head immediately, as if he was afraid that he would back out, and snatched the black pieces, putting down a piece first, then another piece, and then another piece again.

As soon as the chess game started, he snatched the black pieces and put down three of them.

Shen Qingxuan raised his brow and looked at him for a long moment, soundlessly chiding, You really have not grown at all.

Shen Zhen quickly countered, “You are the elder brother and older than me by seven years so you should actually have let me by seven pieces. Now it is only three pieces, my progress is already not small at all.”

Shen Qingxuan held the white piece as he put one down and ignored him.

Shen Zhen quieted down as well, observing the match and beginning to play seriously.

Shen Zhen took the advantage at the beginning, and in the time of one stick of incense, he had killed the game into a treacherous and hard to predict match. With sharp moves, he encircled a portion of Shen Qingxuan’s white pieces, feeling rather pleased with himself.

However, Shen Qingxuan did not even lift his head, and solely focused on placing his pieces. When the match had gone on for a period of two sticks of incense, Shen Zhen’s sharp peaks and edges were all chopped off to nothingness, not one was spared. Furthermore, White was like a dragon entrenched in a mountain range, biding its time to act, just waiting for a command so that it could seize the land in this game within an instant.

“Gege.” Shen Zhen wiped the cold sweat that did not actually exist from his forehead and said hastily, “Gege’s opening and closing were well considered with an impressive performance this match……” how about you spare didi this time?

He had not finished speaking before Shen Qingxuan, with a smile in his eyes, had already turned around to take the pen that was placed to the side. He filled the pen with ink and unhurriedly wrote: Do not flatter me. Lift your face up.

Shen Zhen instantly shut his mouth and handed over his face with misery.

A moment later, a big, crawling tortoise had been added to that handsome face.

Shen Zhen jumped down from the daybed and grabbed a mirror to look at his face. He moaned and groaned, “The more I flatter, the more lifelike this tortoise gets. So it is clear that this flattery still needs to be flattered, especially gege’s flattery.”

Shen Qingxuan impatiently patted the chessboard, saying, Again.

Shen Zhen had no choice but to return to his seat. He also carefully checked the windows to see if there were cracks so as to prevent any other people from seeing him. That would be so embarrassing.

-

Up until dinner time, the two of them still had the doors and windows tightly shut, unwilling to come out. All the servants waited outside because the people inside still had not allowed them to set up the dinner. This finally alarmed Master Shen.

When Master Shen heard that his sons refused to take their meals, he rushed over at once and stood outside the doors as he asked, “What kind of mishap have you two gotten into?”

Only after a moment did Shen Zhen’s voice come from the room, “Dad, I am playing chess with xiong zhang.”

At first, Master Shen was baffled, and then his face held back a strange expression. He stood for a minute before he waved away the crowd of servants. “You all go on first, keep the dishes warm, and bring them again in a double-hour.”

After he sent them all away, Master Shen leaned on the door as he said in a low voice, “Xuan’er, let dad come in and take a look.”

Immediately, sounds of frantic commotion came from behind the doors. Master Shen waited without a worry, and sure enough, his youngest son was no match for his eldest son. Shen Qingxuan pushed his wheelchair over and opened the door.

-

After he came inside and looked around, Master Shen headed towards the screen

, still using a benevolent voice, “Come out and let dad have a look.”

There was absolute silence from behind the screen.

“Do not be like a girl, come out and let dad see.” Master Shen continued to coax him.

Shen Zhen refused to come out.

Shen Qingxuan closed the door once again, wheeled over, and pushed down the screen. Shen Zhen did not expect his brother to do this, and had no chance to hide. On instinct, he held up the screen that almost fell and ducked out of the way.

In this split second, Master Shen had already seen the scene he wanted to see. He let out a “pft,” then immediately held it in again until his beard was shaking.

Shen Qingxuan also lowered his face while his shoulders could not stop quaking. Clearly, he was holding back quite desperately.

Shen Zhen stood there with his whole face covered in tortoises that either crawled or stood or rolled, not even his ears were spared. Each of his earlobes had their own tiny tortoise that stretched out their necks and kicked their legs.

Master Shen held his stomach as he pointed at Shen Qingxuan with a shaking finger and said breathlessly, “Y-you……your elder brother, is truly, i-im-im……proper.”

Shen Qingxuan raised his head immediately, and with his bright, black eyes, he stared unblinking at his diedie.

Father and son looked at each other for a minute, and then suddenly turned away from each other without warning. One of them gaped his mouth as he roared with laughter silently while the other man laughed until he nearly lost his breath.

At first, Shen Zhen was indignant and yelled at the two of them to stop laughing. Then he saw that neither of them could stop. They were bent down and clutching their chest as they laughed until they could not breathe, which frightened him into ignoring his own mortification. He quickly ran over to pat their backs with one hand each, and helped them catch their breath. He was deeply afraid that these two would laugh until they were sick.

But he did not realize that his elder brother and father, as soon as they turned their heads and saw that painted face with anxiety written all over it, were unable to stop even if they wanted to stop.

Furthermore, Shen Qingxuan almost laughed out loud several times, and could only bite his tongue as he swallowed down the sound that had risen to his larynx yet again.

His joy was also a joy of extreme difficulty.

-

In these twenty years, there has never been a time that was not burdensome.

It’s finally finished so have some HLVRAI Pokémon Mystery Dungeon AU Information!

GORDON-

- The Second Human Turned People Case, though he thinks he’s the first

- Cubone

- Moves: Headbutt, Bonemerange, Fire Punch, Endure

- Ability: Battle Armor

- Apart of Team Sunrise, Partnered with Tommy

- Has no memory other than his name and the fact that he used to be human

- Was first found by Tommy, unconscious on the Beach

- Intially creates an Exploration Team with Tommy to both make Tommy happy since it’s his dream and to search for clues as to why he’s suddenly a Pokémon and how to change back

- However, Gordon ends up liking being in an Exploration Team since a part of the job is about helping others. Gordon’s natural protective nature means he fits the job like a glove

- Trying to find a reason to why he’s not Human anymore but Gordon’s starting to wonder... Does he even want to go back? He likes being in an Exploration Team with Tommy- is there anything for him if he returns to the Human World?

- Was trying to keep his whole ‘Human Turned Pokémon’ thing a secret from the general public but somehow, word gets out

- Doesn’t want to drag Tommy into it when people start searching for Gordon but Tommy won’t leave his side, no matter how hard he tries

TOMMY-

- Gordon’s Exploration Partner (And Just Might Play A Very Important Role In Saving The World)

- Pikachu

- Moves: Thunderbolt, Grass Knot, Agility, Swift

- Ability: Static

- Apart of Team Sunrise, Partnered With Gordon

- Has wanted to be in an Exploration Team since he was a Pichu. His adoptive mother is a retired Explorer who often told him bedtime stories about her adventures, inspiring him

- Now has his own place but keeps in touch with his mom. They’re pretty close

- Was also childhood friends with both Darnold and Benrey. Tommy and Darnold keep in touch while Tommy lost contact with Benrey after he suddenly disappeared- Tommy hasn’t seen him in years... Until now!

- Found Gordon unconscious on the Beach and instantly took him in, letting him stay in his spare room. Given Gordon has nowhere else to go, they’re now roommates!

- Loves being able to travel to new places and seeing all the beautiful places around the world as an Explorer

- Admires Team Wildfire a lot

- Promises to keep Gordon safe and help him figure out who he is and what happened. Will not break this promise, no matter what

BENREY-

- Not What He Seems...

- “Totodile” (Shiny Ditto who’s Very Good at Transforming)

- Moves (As Totodile): Surf, Ice Beam, Crunch, Shadow Claw

- Ability (As Totodile): Sheer Force

- Has no Defensive or Status Moves

- Not apart of any Exploration Team but hangs around Team Sunrise a lot

- Was childhood friends with Tommy (And aquatinted with Darnold)

- Was employed to someone he doesn’t like talk about for a good chunk of his life. Benrey doesn’t talk about what he was employed for either, but it might have something to do with his ability to transform very convincingly...

- Was acquainted with Forzen, though Forzen wouldn’t recognize him in his Totodile form

- Has a lot of secrets. Benrey’s not proud of who he used to be

- A lot more powerful than he looks

- Very few know that Benrey is actually a Ditto given he stays transformed so often. Even fewer can recognize him once he’s transformed

- Almost always on edge, no matter how well he hides it. There’s a high bounty on the head of one of his forms so he has to keep his head down, hiding as a Totodile

- Joins Team Sunrise on a lot of missions despite not being officially apart of the group

- Knows Gordon’s secret and is determined to keep him safe, at all costs

COOMER-

- A Very Experienced Explorer

- Breloom

- Moves: Seed Bomb, Brick Break, Dynamic Punch, Sword Dance

- Ability: Effect Spore

- Apart of Team Wildfire, Partnered with Bubby

- Has a big family and a lot of siblings though isn’t very close with them. Feels like he has to compete with his siblings just to stand out and not feel like a clone

- Was previously in an Explorer Team called Team Belladonna with his Ex, however they broke up and he stopped exploring a couple months before he met Bubby

- Found Bubby unconscious on a Mountain and his Explorer instincts kicked in, quickly helping him and having Bubby stay with him while he recovered

- Originally Bubby was only meant to stay until he recovered his memory but it ended up becoming a more permanent arrangement later

- Formed an Exploration Team both to help Bubby search for answers and because Coomer missed it as it was a big part of his life

- Has been Partnered with Bubby for years now. Would do anything to keep his secret safe

- Anything.

BUBBY-

- The First Human Turned Pokemon

- Charmeleon

- Moves: Flamethrower, Slash, Thunder Punch, Dragon Claw

- Ability: Blaze

- Has no defensive or status moves

- Apart of Team Wildfire, Partnered with Coomer

- Wears Wise Glasses both as a boost to his special attack but also because he has terrible eyesight without them

- Like Gordon, he has little memory other than his name and the fact that he used to be Human

- Bubby keeps the fact that he used to be Human under heavy lock and key. The only other person he told was Coomer, otherwise, Bubby is pretty distrusting towards others

- Initially became an Explorer with Coomer because of his determination to figure out why he’s a Pokémon but stayed because he genuinely enjoyed the work

- Despite his initial drive to figure out how to become Human again, Bubby no longer pursues this. He likes his life with Coomer, he doesn’t want it to change

- Would do anything to keep Coomer safe

- A n y t h i n g

DARNOLD-

- Inventor Extraordinaire

- Bayleef

- Moves: Magic Leaf, Solar Beam, Protect, Sweet Scent

- Ability: Leaf Guard

- Not apart of an Exploration Team but takes an interest in the work

- Childhood friends with Tommy, they still keep in touch

- Took an interest in Inventing and Creating given his Moms were really into it and he looked up to them

- Original creator of the Orbs, namely the Escape Orb and the Slumber Orb, both of which he uses to get through tough dungeons

- Still makes items and machines as well but Darnold’s true pride and joy is a drink shop called ‘New Leaf’ with a new menu every day. Darnold takes great pride in his juices and smoothies that he makes

- Likes to talk to one of his regulars at New Leaf, a Bounty Hunter who has plenty of interesting stories and is overall fun to talk to

- Recently got employed by someone who gives him a weird vibe. Darnold doesn’t know what it is but all they want is for him to make a machine that can open portals and... Well, it sounds interesting and harmless enough?

- Isn’t much of a fighter but will if he has to

FORZEN-

- A Bounty Hunter who’s very good at his job

- Mightyena

- Moveset: Ice Fang, Take Down, Sucker Punch, Swagger

- Ability: Intimidate

- All moves can be learned by leveling up, the only character to have this

- Is a Bounty Hunter, meaning he specifically goes after Wanted Pokemon for a living

- Took up Bounty Hunting as it runs in the family. Is not close with his family anymore

- Very good at his job, one of the best trackers out there and very rarely doesn’t complete the job he takes

- Used to be aquatinted with Benrey though wouldn’t recognize his Totodile form

- Truthfully has no idea what happened to Benrey but one day, he disappeared and a huge bounty was placed on his head. Forzen took the job, no hard feelings but it was a lot of money, but was never able to find him, one of his few jobs

- Often visits a drink place called New Leaf, both for the delicious drinks and to talk to the Bayleef that runs it

- Recently took up a job to track down a Human Turned Pokemon. Has no idea what they’re wanted for but the bounty is too big to pass up- every Bounty Hunter he knows is taking it

JOSHUA-

- The Kid Who Tends To Inspire Those Around Him

- Sewaddle

- Moves: Tackle, String Shot, Bug Bite, Hidden Power

- Ability: Chlorophyll

- Is an Orphan who lost track of his family and got lost for quite a long time before being rescued

- Is initially found by Benrey and sent to Tommy and Gordon, who takes him in and take care of him while they search for his family

- Benrey, Gordon, and Tommy all take on a parental role for him, though a lot of the people he meets tends to instantly shift into, “I would die for this kid” mode

- Thinks Exploration Teams are the coolest

- Greatly admires Team Sunrise, Team Wildfire, and Benrey, sometimes trying to imitate them

- A little easily frightened at first but his confidence gets built up once he’s taken in by Tommy and Gordon. Turns out to be pretty enthusiastic once he comes out of his shell

G-MAN-

- The Legendary

- Mewtwo

- Moves: ???

- Ability: Unnerve

- Has his own agenda but generally tries to help others and keeps the World’s balance in check

- Not much is known about him, least of all why he goes by ‘G-Man’ of all things. He keeps to himself

- Seems to watch over a certain Pikachu, sensing great things from him...

- Is very interested in finding out how a Human turns Pokémon

- Knows more than he says

SUNKIST-

- Ex-Explorer and Adoptive Mother of Tommy

- Arcanine

- Moves: Extreme Speed, Flare Blitz, Body Slam, Roar

- Ability: Flash Fire

- Full name is Sun Kissed but Sunkist is a shortening of it that she likes

- Is a retired Explorer and pretty highly respected and well known. Was apart of a Explorer Team known as Team Daylight

- Tommy was left at her doorstep a half a year after she retired. Sunkist worked to find his family, and when she couldn’t, raised him as her own

- While she’s a little out of practice, Sunkist is still very powerful

- Tough as nails but has a soft heart

- Can and would move mountains for Tommy

???-

- The Main Antagonist

- ???

- Moves: Psychic, Water Pulse, Blizzard, Drain Punch

- Ability: Own Tempo

- No status or defensive moves

- Highly powerful and has a bad vibe to her

- A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

- Employed Benrey, Darnold, and sometimes Forzen

- Seems to have her own agenda

- Is very interested in finding a Human Turned Pokemon and is willing to do anything to get her hands on one

- Knows Benrey very, very well

- And doesn’t let go so e a s i l y

Anddd there we go! Took a hot minute but I got it all down! Feel free to ask me about anything if you got questions!

FFXIV Write #7: Speculate

(a/n: Both me and a friend that I’ve been musing about ffxiv write stuffs with both agreed that this prompt felt like a Scion prompt XD very scholarly and thinky feeling for this prompt.

For this one, I went with a more npc focused fic, showing Alisaie doing her pre-Coils research. I know she’s less of the scholarly type nowadays to differentiate her more from her brother, but I still like to appreciate that she still went to the Studium and graduated highly as well. She’s still a very smart person that managed to sus out the Bahamut stuff on her own. It’d be nice to see it acknowledged again. ^-^

I worry this got a bit over wordy in some places, but I still feel confident in what I wrote. ^-^ I just very much like the twins and want to write them more, so I’m glad I managed to do a piece for Ali here at least.

Word count: 1106)

Alisaie was never fond of the aether reading goggles. Too big and unwieldy, but unfortunately, as every aetherology teacher at the Studium would insist and press upon her, they were the best tool for the job of viewing the surrounding aether levels. And loath as she was to admit it, they had a point, and Eorzea was a fine place to witness such changes, with the vast quantities that swarmed in the air and exuded from the earth.

She could almost imagine that the many sages and scholars of Old Sharlayan would be dying to study these lands, even more so after the Calamity struck five years prior, if they hadn’t long left it behind, too stubborn to return.

It was the Calamity itself she had decided to study, alone, wishing to avoid being associated with the Scions, at least officially. She kept in touch with Urianger for updates, and Minfilia was kind enough to call Alisaie a Scion all the same, allowing her access to whatever resources they would have if so needed. Although for her own pride, she had stuck to her own self thus far in her research, nothing more than some clunky goggles and her school teachings from home to guide her.

It was widely known that after the Calamity - the great moon Dalamud shattering into a million pieces during its descent, letting loose the mighty primal Bahamut, while the moon’s remnants tumbled to the land below - the already aether rich Eorzea became even more abundant with the clusters of corrupted crystals that rained upon the continent. Mayhap even Bahamut’s spirit upon his destruction added to the now plentiful aether that suffused the world.

Mayhap even her grandfather-

That would be the other reason Alisaie wanted to work alone. Five years ago, her grandfather had disappeared into the thick of the chaos, and not a single word was heard from him after. Barely anyone seemed to talk about him either, for all he must’ve been one of the key players in protecting Eorzea from Bahamut’s onslaught. What few reports she had heard from his Archons placed him on the frontlines at least. He must’ve been there, yet no other word of where he went.

Well, she could do that then. The mystery of his disappearance, of what occured during Bahamut’s fall. Alisaie wasn’t one to call herself a scholar, but she had plenty of knowledge and the desire to learn the truth, and she would use whatever scholarly puzzling she had at her disposal to do so. After all, she had graduated from the Studium as well, even if her brother liked to flaunt his oh so esteemed teachings more.

She would receive a breakthrough soon enough, not long after news began to spread across the land as a so-called Warrior of Light came to be lauded for stopping the 14th Legion alongside the Scions. Word from Urianger told her that it was the miqo’te woman she and Alphinaud had met at those showy memorial ceremonies hosted by the city states. An unassuming if cheery person, from what Alisaie could recall of her. And apparently a busy one since then, given the acclaim.

Initially, Alisaie didn’t give the woman much more thought, given that they hadn’t crossed paths yet and had no reason to do so. She continued on with her aetheric measurements, dull as it had grown with little changes across the land. Summonings and despawnings were noted, however only in small quantities, nothing that matched what few readings were taken of Bahamut’s awakening. The only suspicious measurement she had noticed was an odd surge in the aether sometime after the defeat of the Ultima Weapon, one that did come close to the readings taken that fateful day.

Then one day, while she was taking readings in the Sagolii Desert, beginning as another normal day with the same unchanging records, there was a spike. Fluctuations and variations that were so abnormal, compared to the monotony she’d seen thus far for days on end - with the exception of that one reading, which the new figures matched almost completely.

In a linkpearl call to Urianger to inform him of the readings, she also learned that that same day, most likely around the same time even, the Warrior of Light had been sent to fight off a newly summoned Ifrit. Maybe it was a coincidence or perhaps…

Alisaie had a theory now. Some few days later, she made for Coerthas, hearing from Urianger that Garuda had been summoned as well. Briefly passing through the Shroud on her way, she made a note of a smaller summoning, no doubt the errant Moogle problem that had also come up. However the pompous King couldn’t compare to the flurry of aether currents brought forth after Garuda’s defeat. Another shift similar to the great roar from before.

The final re-summoning took her to La Noscea, and gave her stronger proof to her speculations, as well as opening up another avenue for her to explore. For the defeat of Titan once again brought about the same patterns in the aether, matching the previous primals, and the readings from that one day. And along with it, a revelation pointing toward an unassuming Castrum tucked away just near Wineport.

A check with Y’shtola via Urianger informed her that it was Castrum Occidens, a research facility commissioned by Van Baelsar. One connected to a series of caverns deep beneath the earth, opened up by a great shard of Dalamud embedded into the land. With that, she had it; her link to the Calamity.

Perhaps she finally had a lead that could explain what happened five years ago. It would be difficult to gain access to the base on her own, as accomplished in combat as she was, being the one thing she had over her brother. And even after the Empire’s guards, there would also be traversing the deep caverns and whatever roamed within them. As much as Alisaie wished to continue working alone, she wasn’t a fool to ignore when she would need an extra hand. 

But Urianger could employ someone for that task. Meanwhile Alisaie could begin getting in touch with any family aids she knew were based in Eorzea. A large-scale expedition would need many hands on deck, but preferably ones easily sworn to secrecy. The city states only needed to know the basics, and even then when all the information had been collected.

The most important thing that mattered was that she could finally begin her search in full. The secret of the Calamity and of Bahamut’s sudden appearance that day.

And the mystery of her grandfather’s disappearance.

Bigby x Reader

Request For: @awfullest​

Rating: E

Summary: The Mundies think that there are five love languages, and Bigby’s going to need to learn how to speak every single one of them if he’s going to get you to understand how he feels.

Word Count: 4623

Note: i loved this prompt!! i thought it would be super cute to come up with all the ways bigby could try and get the reader’s attention without being obvious :’) big thank you to @punxgal​ for teaching my dumbass what a taglist is, so i started one! just hit me with a message if you want to be added (or just want to rant about bigby lmao) ily guys!!

Taglist: @punxgal​

Five Ways To Say I Love You

 “You know, the Mundies think that there are five love languages,” Snow informed him, watching with a faint smile of amusement as Bigby quite literally banged his head against the wall of the Business Office. While usually she didn’t enjoy dispensing love advice; after all, she was a very busy woman, watching Bigby experience any kind of emotion, let alone love, was more than worth it. His pining was probably the most amusing thing that had happened in Fabletown in a long while, so she was happy to be his confident. 

“And I can think of five ways to tell Mundies how that sounds fucking stupid,” came Bigby’s gruff response, but he did finally move away from the wall and come around to join her at the desk, which she could only assume was Bigby Speak for her to continue. 

“Words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch.” After Snow had revealed them, the wolf repeated the list under his breath as he committed them to his memory, before he huffed in frustration. 

“Nothing I do works! Nothing I say comes out right and they’re just so –”

“ – perfect, I know,” Snow cut him off, more than familiar with this particular rant, “maybe if you ever did something about it and made it clear that you were interested, they might actually respond positively. You’ve been pining for months, Bigby! It’s getting embarrassing.” His scowl was lost on her, as she was more than used to dealing with an angry Bigby and his frustration at his own love life certainly wasn’t the worst she had dealt with. 

“Fuck off, it’s not pining,” Bigby growled at her, as he produced a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. Snow didn’t bother to argue the point, because she could tell by the long and hopeless drag he took of his cigarette that the Sheriff already knew that it was true. “I’ll try that Mundy thing.” Bigby admitted after a long time, before he nodded at her and stalked out of the office to patrol the streets of Fabletown, or whatever else he got up to whenever there wasn’t some major emergency that he contacted her about. Well, that was about as much thanks as she could expect. She sighed, and rolled her eyes as she watched him retreat. Men. 

Words Of Affirmation

Bigby was head over heels for you. Since Snow had become the Deputy Mayor, there wasn’t much about Fabletown that hadn’t improved. Not everything had changed drastically of course, and there wasn’t a night that went by on the job that the wolf didn’t wish that things could be better for all of the Fables that lived here, but he could console himself with the fact that they were getting better. Slowly was better than not at all, after all. He supposed that he should apply that same philosophy to his feelings for his current infatuation, since he did think that he was making slow progress. You had taken a job casting spells and creating glamours on the thirteenth floor almost half a year ago, now, and it had taken barely any time at all for Bigby to realise that you were everything he had ever wanted.

Every so often, a crime occurred that could benefit from the help of someone who was proficient in magic, such as covering up the scene of a particularly noticeable crime from Mundies or assisting with the aftermath. Bigby had recently found himself running to you every single time a matter like this befell, with the whispers and teasing from some of the other staff at the Business Office being more than worth the chance to spend so many prolonged hours working with you and witnessing your gift. This often came with the additional bonus of being able to show you that he was made the Sheriff for more than his strength. Most of the Fables thought that he was given the position purely due to his violent streak, so to be able to display his prowess at investigating crimes made a nice change.

Tonight, was one of those nights and the two of you had ventured out to cast a spell over a building that had been set on fire by an arsonist. Although the fire had been combatted with the help of some water nymphs, the plumes of black smoke obscuring the horizon were sure to pique the interest of any Mundies within a couple of miles radius. It struck the Sheriff that now was the perfect opportunity to use the first of Snow’s techniques as he walked you back to the Business Office, enjoying the pleasure of hearing you rant and rave about howof all of the possible crimes, arson was certainly the most pointless and dangerous. Bigby loved how passionate you were, how you could probably form a strong and justified opinion on almost any topic. He loved the way you used your hands and gesticulated wildly without even realising, like you were always casting a spell. It certainly felt like you had cast one over him, after all, he was constantly thinking about you. The first thought on his mind in the morning, and the person running through his mind whenever he attempted to sleep.

The two of you reached the business office and entered the deathtrap elevator. He took the opportunity to employ his first method as you had fallen silent when pressing the button for the thirteenth floor, before hitting the one for Bigby’s Office, too. The wolf felt a spark of happiness as he noted how well you knew him, his routines and habits. Although he hadn’t known you for very long, it was obvious that the Sorcerer was the kind of person that noticed the little things, that cared for each and every person that came into the Business Office looking for help, whether it be a standard glamour or something with far higher stakes. The dedication to their job was something that Bigby could very much relate to, and the fact that you often complimented the Sheriff on his duty to Fabletown made his heart warm in his chest – not many people did.

The only problem was, every time Bigby had tried to compliment you back, he failed miserably. Either it came out completely wrong, or it didn’t come out at all. But this time, it would be different. He had used the entire walk to plan what he was going to say, and now was the time to implement it. As the elevator rose, Bigby removed his cigarette from his mouth and met your eyes, trying not to focus on your mesmerising beauty. “Thanks,” he managed to get out, his voice rough, “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the best Sorcerer I know.” The words were genuine, even if they were a little bit gruff and came out a little fast, and the Sheriff internally celebrated. Finally. He watched closely as your eyes lit up with joy and pride and you stood up just a little bit taller than before. It had made every bit of stress worth it, in Bigby’s eyes.

“Thanks, Bigby. I’d say you were the best Sheriff I know, but you’re sort of the only Sheriff I know,” you teased him with a smile, and leaned forward to punch his shoulder gently. God, everything seemed to come so easily to you, he noted. The way you spoke and joked with him, managing to drag a smile out of him even on his darkest days, the way you touched him so casually. Perfect. The elevator doors slid open, and you flashed him one more bright smile before you were gone.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Bigby slumped against the elevator wall and luxuriated in the feeling for a long moment. On some level, he could recognise that it was mildly insane to feel such euphoria over such a minute interaction, one that you probably wouldn’t even remember when tomorrow arrived, but he didn’t care. The elevator arrived at the Business Office and the door opened to reveal Bluebeard standing there. His eyes narrowed when he saw the Sheriff, and his mouth opened, but he was cut off as the wolf walked right past him, dropping his cigarette at the man’s feet.

“Fuck off, Bluebeard.”

Acts Of Service

“Bigby, you really don’t have to do this,” your voice came from behind him as continued his way down the hall, carrying the large wooden desk in his arms. Considering your hard work, it was really only a matter of time before they got promoted, and Bigby was incredibly pleased that your talent was being recognised. Along with the promotion came a brand-new office, that Bigby was currently help you move your things into.

“It’s no trouble, really,” he insisted once again and that was telling the truth. The desk was really no problem for the wolf to manage, but the praise made it feel even lighter. You followed along behind him with a box of personal affects, pictures and stationery, along with a little cactus that, to quote you, ‘even you couldn’t kill.’

They entered the office, which, like most of the Business Office, was somewhat in a state of disrepair. The lighting was dim, the window dirty and the paint a faded, peeling yellow. Even still, he watched you regard it as if it were a silver palace, a spark in your eyes. Unlike Bigby, you were an optimist, always able to see the bright side of life and the best in people. It was a refreshing change to the wolf, who very rarely had a reason to give people the benefit of the doubt in his line of work. You saw the best in him, having never been afraid of him for a second, and throwing him a bemused look whenever he tried to pull his ‘big, bad wolf’ act around you.

“Thanks for helping me,” he felt a hand on his arm and the warm pressure grounded him, causing him to meet your eyes, “there was no way I could’ve dragged that heavy ass desk down this hallway. You’re handy, you know that?” The compliment was strange, and Bigby huffed at the word. Handy. There was something almost domestic about it, which caused a warmth to spread through his chest.  

“Yeah, well, I’m only downstairs if you need me,” Bigby reassured you, the feeling of being needed satisfying the more primal parts of his nature. To be able to help you, provide for you, was what the wolf inside him desperately craved.

“Good to know you’re not just a pretty face,” you teased him with a wink and Bigby almost choked on his own spit. He felt hot under the collar all of a sudden and he cleared his throat before he was able to answer, much to his enchantment's clear amusement. Even though you were clearly fucking with him, the implication that you thought he was attractive was enough to imprint this very moment on his mind for what he was sure was the rest of all time.

“I’m a man of many talents,” the Sheriff managed to reply, his voice rich with sarcasm as he bumped his cigarette packet, making one shoot up out of the box. He raised it to his lips, quirking his eyebrows at the other Fable as means of asking for permission, a very rare honour that was not often bestowed upon. You nodded their approval and the wolf sparked up, taking a deep drag. After all, he was fairly sure that if he didn’t find something to focus his thoughts on, he was going to kiss you here and now. The way that you were leaning against the desk, the one that he had moved for you, was testing his self-control in ways that he hadn’t expected. What he wouldn’t give to just push you over the desk and –

“I think it just needs a new coat of paint,” your voice (thankfully) interrupted his thoughts before they could spiral any further. Bigby grunted and exhaled his smoke.

“I can help with that.”

Receiving Gifts and Quality Time

It had taken him forever to find, but Bigby didn’t plan to admit that to anyone else. He held the cassette tape in his hands, remembering so clearly the first time you had showed him one. One late night, he had caught you leaving the Woodlands as he approached, bruised and tired after a long day. He wasn’t particularly happy that you were here at such a late hour, you work ethic concerning at times; it made him worry that you didn’t get enough rest, which was more than ironic coming from him. Despite how battered he must have looked, it didn’t stop the smile from breaking out on your face at the sight of him, and it made his long day seem just a little less long. As you walked through the glass doors, Bigby noted a strange device in your hands, with wires that followed all the way up to your head.

“What the fuck is that?” He asked, amused at the sight of it. It was cold on the street, but the Sheriff was more than happy to linger outside for a little more time as long as it meant he got to speak to you.

“It’s a Walkman,” you informed him brightly, and it was immediately clear from your tone that this little device brought you no shortage of joy, “it plays cassette tapes.” The wolf had some vague recollection of what a cassette tape was, although he had never heard of the “Walkman,” so he could gather that it had something to do with music at least. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the little thing, when suddenly you were stepping forward into his space. With bated breath, Bigby tensed as you pulled off their headphones and held them up between the both of you, leaning close.

Don't leave me this way.

The music played and provided him with something to focus his mind on and flood his senses with, which was a welcome release now that your scent was flooding his nose so distractingly. When you were this close, Bigby could see every little detail of your face, and he found himself committing every last detail to his memory. The faint scar you had just above your eyebrow that he so desperately wanted to know the story behind, the permanent imprint on your lower lip that you had left from biting it so much, every shade in your eyes.

I can't survive, I can't stay alive.

You met his eyes, clearly waiting to hear his judgement, but Bigby didn’t offer one, wanting to prolong the moment of intimacy for as long as he could get away with it. He couldn’t help it, after all, having you so close to him was intoxicating. It was a feeling of pride and accomplishment to him, that you had chosen to share this part of yourself  with him.

Without your love, no baby.

“I like it,” he admitted, although what he really liked was the way his approval made a smile emerge on your face, illuminated by the soft yellow lights of the Woodland. The simple praise was enough, although Bigby wished that he could find better words, more impressive ones. You had a way of making him feel like that way; of making him feel that for all of his inadequacies, he was enough. It was a more addicting feeling than smoking his damn cigarettes.

Don't leave me this way.

Bigby knew that if he stayed stood there for much longer, he would inevitably do or say something that was going to get him trouble, so he cleared his throat and stepped back, watching you click a little button the stop the cassette from playing. You looked almost disappointed that you had to go, but it was late and cold, so Bigby was glad you would finally go home and get some rest. The song’s words came back to him as you bid him goodnight and retreated into the night, hailing a cab. Don’t leave me this way.

He didn’t want you to leave at all.

The Sheriff had laboured over finding the perfect gift for you after that, stopping by many Mundy places whenever he had a spare moment, or his work brought him close to the edge of Fabletown. Gently, he placed the cassette down on your desk, wrapped carefully by Snow after she had seen Bigby’s attempt at it and laughed outright.

Even better, it had become a habit of yours to sit side by side in his office every so often and listen to whatever song had become your recent obsession. He would listen to you talk about what made it good, or why you loved the band and enjoy your company much more than he enjoyed the songs themselves. It had been a long time since Bigby had done something just because he enjoyed it. Not to escape, or distract himself, or to forget, but something that made him grateful for the here and now. Sometimes, he was in a good mood and he offered his opinions, which slowly became more informed over time as you listened and asked for his favourites. Other times, he was exhausted and broken after a day of dealing with the worst that Fabletown had to offer, and he would sit in silence, letting the sound of your music and your voice wash over him. It was like the tide, eroding a jagged stone smooth, corroding away all of his edges and damaged parts so gently that he hardly even noticed.

Stepping back, the wolf smiled proudly to himself and propped a cigarette between his lips. This whole love languages thing was getting easier all the time.

Physical Touch

For all his success, this was certainly the one that Bigby was most nervous about. After all, he wasn’t exactly known for his ability to be gentle. A good chunk of the Fables probably thought that the Sheriff was directly synonymous with bruises and a ringing pain in their heads after he had used force to encourage them to comply with the law so many times.

The ballroom spread out before him, as picturesque and charming as it was every year. Bigby was so nervous that he regarded it more like a battlefield than a ballroom, the polished wood floor masking countless traps and landmines, the spinning and smiling Fables his enemies, waiting for him to slip up. The many twinkling lights gave the room an iridescent glow, but he felt like they were interrogation lights, his nerves rising in his stomach as he waited for you to arrive.

It had been the first year of the Remembrance Ball that Bigby had been the one to convince somebody else to go, considering he was usually the one to be dragged along so unwillingly by Snow. Not this year. This year, he was prepared. He had sacrificed his pride and given up far too many evenings to twirling around the Business Office with Snow once the building quietened at night and while he still lacked a fundamental sense of grace, he was now at least proficient enough that he wouldn’t stand on your feet. For the first time in centuries, Bigby had sought out a brand new suit, one that wasn’t as terribly dated as his previous one, although it was still a simple and understated design. Goddammit, Bigby had even been extra careful on the job the evening before, carefully avoiding taking any hits to the face, so that he wouldn’t be bruised and bleeding. There was nothing else he could do; he was ready.

At least, he thought he was. But no amount of preparation could have prepared him for seeing you walk through the ornate doors. He imagined that the feeling he experienced must have been akin to being struck by lightning, as it travelled through his entire body within the span of a second and paralysed him. It completely broke his brain trying to process how completely and utterly perfect you looked when you were dressed to the nines and he suddenly understood why the other Fables enjoyed this damned dance so much. For in that instant, Bigby would have done it all over again, a million times and lived a million miserable lives just to be given the chance to dance with you tonight.

To his delight, your eyes scanned the crowd and settled on him, so he lifted his glass as a means of greeting, beginning to cross the dance floor so that the two of you could meet in the middle. He quickly lost sight of you in the crowd, but eventually, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Well, you clean up nice,” the voice was familiar and teasing, which made Bigby feel hot under the collar.

“I could say the same about you,” he returned easily, gesturing to your elaborate clothing. The Sheriff wanted to vocalise it so much better. You looked positively divine, to the point where the other Fables within a visible radius had their eyes stuck on you, either jealous or starstruck. Bigby was overcome with the overwhelming desire to make sure they all knew who you had come for and it was the push he needed to step forward and take you in his eyes. He watched your eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised that Bigby had been so forward and so confident in leading you into an, albeit very simple, dance. All those evenings were certainly paying off.

Emboldened, Bigby made a second and better attempt, “you’re breath-taking. Nobody can take their eyes off of you.” Watching the blush break out on your face, coupled by your closeness, was enough to make Bigby feel that he was in heaven. Your scent was in his nose, even sweeter tonight with whatever scent you were wearing, and you were safe in his arms, his and only his, even if it was just for tonight. Physical touch, he thought, was quite possibly his favourite love language in the world.

It wasn’t enough, he could never get enough of you. He wondered if he would ever be fully satiated, surely not when felt like he wanted to drown in you. Pulling you close, he could feel how rapid your heartbeat was in your chest, and a smile crossed his face. “I didn’t take you for a dancer,” the surprise was evident in your tone, and not at all unjustified. After all, the Sheriff had refused to dance at this damn thing for quite literally centuries, so he supposed he was equally responsible for the stares they were receiving as you spun on, unphased.

“Like I told you, I’m a man of many talents,” Bigby repeated the sentiment from one of your older conversations, which earned him a laugh that he could feel resonate through his body, which was even better than simply hearing it.

“Alright, alright, be all mysterious, then,” you didn’t push him for a real answer any further, which filled him with a sense of relief, because he was certain that once he admitted to begging Snow for lessons, he was never going to live it down. His reputation as the big, bad wolf was already sure to take a large enough hit just from the fact that he had now been seen by almost every Fable dancing, so he really didn’t think it would be able to survive that on top of it all. Slowly, he could feel you relax into his arms as one song turned into two, then three. The orchestra played beautifully, but after a few songs, he felt a murmur in his ear.

“Man, they should have let us pick the music for this thing,” you joked quietly, as not to offend anyone in the near proximity, and Bigby fought to prevent himself from laughing too loudly and causing them to gain any more attention. The novelty of seeing the Sheriff dance had mostly faded by now, the whispers and comments over with for the most part, so he was eager to retain your low profile. He nodded his agreement, struck by how pleasant he found it that you were so similar to him in some ways and different in others. You were not the type to be overly enamoured by the illusion of glamour that the Fables created for Remembrance every year, but more the type to focus on the simple and understated beauties of everyday life. That, Bigby thought, was something truly rare and special and he intended to never let it escape him.

Bigby knew that he wanted to be with you forever. For the first time, he could imagine waking up next to someone every day and falling asleep with them at night. He wanted to be the person on your mind at all hours of the day and the one to comfort you after a terrible day or listen to your stupid jokes after a good one. Bigby wanted to come home to music blaring out of the tape player, instead of the silence and damp of his apartment. He wanted to part ways not just with a smile when you shared the elevator ride to the Business Office, but with a kiss. God, he was head over heels, and no matter how he said it, any one of the godforsaken five ways, he no longer cared. He just had to say it. He needed you to know.

You moved your hand from his shoulder to straighten his tie with a fond smile and that was it for Bigby. Pulling you close, one of his rough hands came up to cover yours, pressing your hand against his chest so that you could probably feel his heartbeat, rapid and strong. The other cupped your jaw, his touch gentler than he ever thought a monster could be capable of. He watched a thousand different emotions flicker through your eyes as he leaned in, too fast for even the Sheriff to be able to process and recognise them all. Your lips met and everything just stopped. It was like Bigby’s mind went completely blank of thoughts and all he could do was feel. His arms tightened around you as he tried to put all he had into it – every last word that he could never find, every smile that he had wished were a kiss, every song that he would never be able to hear and not think of you and this very moment.

Eventually, you pulled back from one another, but not far. You stayed close, your foreheads pressed together as you recovered, breathing together. “The Mundies say that there are five ways to show someone you love them,” Bigby informed you, after a long moment of silence, not entirely sure why he had said it.

“That’s so fucking stupid,” you replied, your voice much breathier than it had been a minute ago, and Bigby grinned widely at how closely your response had echoed his own. It was stupid, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care because it had worked, and he had you in his arms and he had kissed you, and he was never going to let you go. You began to sway again, finding your way back to the music and to reality, as much as he wanted to stay wrapped up in that moment forever.

It didn’t matter how many ways there were, Bigby thought, because he was going to discovery every, damn one.

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Seven

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Paladin Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, yawned loudly right before he took the shot. The radstag looked up, alerted to his presence, but it was already too late for the beast.

  Danse lumbered down to the water's edge, hauling the body up onto the withered grass and then drawing his combat knife. As messy as field dressing creatures could be, Danse found himself soothed by the memorized motions. He wondered idly whether he could have been happy doing something like this. Just hunting to support his own needs, staking a claim on some forlorn piece of land and slowly shaping it into a home, maybe even starting a family...

  He almost nicked his thumb due to his inattention and Danse grunted, a little irritated to have caught himself daydreaming about a more domestic existence. You're a member of the Brotherhood of Steel , he scolded, start acting like it! Imagining fake lifetimes was reserved for those who hadn't sworn the Creed, dedicating their lives to carrying out the will of their Elder and honoring the tenets of the Brotherhood.

  Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.

  Danse's familiarity with the task made quick work of butchering the animal, the paladin rolling everything neatly into the bedraggled hide he had peeled off the beast. The inedible bits of the animal he buried, not wanting to draw any predatory attention to the site. 

  With the lumpy, makeshift sack slung over his shoulder, the paladin trekked back up the hill to the station. Preston waved at him from the fortified wall and the paladin saluted out of habit. 

  Danse found himself powerless to stop his smile when a freckled face popped out from the doorway of the station, Matthew staring down at him. The child's fear seemed to have evaporated overnight, replaced by the verbose curiosity that so many of his age group eagerly employed. It probably helped that Danse had left his power armor behind the station.

  "Whatd'ja get?" The boy asked, skittering down the stairs.

  "Radstag. Notoriously gamey, but ultimately acceptable for consumption." Danse replied as he rinsed off his hands and knife, surprised when Matt nodded solemnly.

  "My papa and older brothers get them sometimes. He says I can't see them shoot one yet though. When I'm older I can come along." Matthew squatted beside the paladin, watching intently as Danse unrolled the pelt and separated out the different cuts of meat. Some would benefit immensely from being aged, but out in the field there was little chance of a reliably-cooled environment. 

  Danse frowned. He had been hoping for smaller game, like some mole rats. He hadn't wanted to pass up the prolific meat the larger beast offered, but now he felt a bit foolish for impulsively going after a creature they may not be able to consume entirely before it spoiled. He couldn't spend all day cooking or preserving it either, he had promised Preston he would finish the wall--

  "Good news!" Garvey called, a spring in his step as he approached the two. "Matt's folks are coming 'round to collect him as soon as possible. I'd expect them by noon, if not earlier."

  "Does your family need food, Matthew?" Danse asked the boy bluntly, gesturing down at the meat. 

  "I got three brothers and four sisters, Mister Danse sir." Matt said by way of reply, his eyes a little wide. "We grow some stuff and my mama makes pretty things to sell, but food's kinda' tight." A flush rose on his face. "We're not poor though! Not poor. We have a place to live, and clean water." He continued defiantly.

  Danse was stunned silent for a moment, and Preston cleared his throat. "You need a hand with that, Paladin?" 

  "I...yes. Thank you, Lieutenant." Danse mumbled, struggling to gather his thoughts. "I may have bitten off more than I could chew as far as resources go. If you would...just...uh, wrap the…"

  "You want them to have the decent stuff, or the larger stuff?" Preston asked simply, crouching down.

  The paladin grimaced. "The whole damn thing, but I'm certain they wouldn't accept it." He muttered incredulously under his breath, " eight children." 

  "They're lucky. A lot of times, pregnancy doesn't really work out so well." Preston rumpled Matthew's hair. "How about you decide, big man. You want the whole deer, minus what we eat for breakfast?"

  "What, really? All of it?!" The boy asked excitedly, looking up at Danse like he was waiting for confirmation. Danse nodded jerkily, unsure of exactly which emotion was choking him at the moment. "This will make my mama wicked happy! I hear her cry sometimes about food. S'why I went to the water place, I was tryin' to scavenge for stuff like my big brothers do."

  It was hardly Danse's first time encountering a family that was low on resources. He had grown up a scavenger himself, alone and hungry. The Capital Wasteland had been rife with desperate people who were willing to try their luck against fully armored BoS troops. Danse couldn't even begin to count the amount of times hostile situations had erupted due to the Brotherhood sitting pretty atop a mountain of supplies. 

  "I'm glad it'll be put to good use, then." He managed to say, his fists balled up tightly. 

  At least right here, right now , he could help.

  …

  Danse trudged across the lot yet again, dragging a massive fallen tree behind him. Thanks to his power armor, the paladin was a machine of industry when it came to building the remaining two sides of barricades. Backhand was just grateful that he had waited until after eight o'clock to begin. Her sleep had been poor, filled with dreams of chasing after Shaun.

  Danse worked almost silently aside from noises of exertion, and it seemed as though his mind was elsewhere. If Backhand had learned anything during her brief stint of traveling with the paladin it was that when he pondered, he appeared to devote his whole body to the task.

  "He's really somethin', General." Preston commented. "I mean, just look at him go! If more folks in the Brotherhood were like him, I feel as if the tide would finally start to turn for the Commonwealth."

  "You're not wrong." Backhand agreed, wiping the sweat off her forehead. After Danse had assured her that he was more than up to the task of finishing the fence, she had decided to start planting the crops. So here she was, General of the Minutemen, up to her elbows in dirt, tato seeds and corn kernels while Matt 'supervised'. "I think he likes helping."

  "Kindred spirits?" Preston teased. 

  "Maybe so!" She laughed, flicking his knee with dirt-covered fingers. "I think the Commonwealth could always use more people willing to lend a hand, though."

  "The Minutemen certainly can, even if the rest of the Commonwealth wants to stick its head in the sand." The radio on Preston's lapel crackled to life and he dashed off, practically bounding up the steps to the station so he could get a little higher and clear the signal. " Lieutenant Preston Garvey here… "

  "I hope my parents come soon." Matt said quietly. He toed at a mound of dirt, his expression troubled. "D'ya think they'll be mad at me?"

  Backhand grimaced. "I doubt it. They'll be happy that you're okay. You're really lucky, y'know."

  "I know." Matt continued staring at his feet, "I just didn't want my mama to cry anymore. I wanted to fix it."

  Backhand raised her hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving him a little shake. "Hey, sometimes we're just not big enough to fix stuff by ourselves. Sometimes we're not strong enough, even when we think we are. But that's how you learn, right? So you gotta' pick yourself up and try to help where you can." The little boy still looked dejected. "I'll tell you what, Matt. As General of the Minutemen, I'm giving you a field promotion to Intel Lieutenant."

  "Intel Lieutenant?" Matthew echoed in confusion, his eyes wide. 

  "Yep. You're observant and resourceful, excellent qualities in an intelligence operative. I need you to keep your family safe, and that includes keeping you safe. A smart intelligence operative always ensures the safety of the people around them. Can I count on you, Lieutenant?" Backhand asked, wiping her hand off on her jeans and extending it to the boy.

  "Yeah. Yeah! Yeah, I can do that!" Matthew puffed his chest out a little, small fingers grappling her own when he shook her hand. "What's my first order, General ma'am?" 

  "Your first order will be to work in tandem with Preston and secure the perimeter. You walk the inside beat, he walks the outside." Backhand instructed, barely stifling her laugh at the child's stiff salute. 

  "Matthew?" An unfamiliar voice called, a thin woman slipping through the doorway Danse had left in the fence. "Matthew!"

  "Mama!" Matthew hollered, bolting across the settlement to fling himself into his mother's arms. The woman sank to her knees, holding her son close and crying into his hair as he clung to her.

  Backhand's throat ached and she looked away, blinking away the tears she wanted to shed at the reunion. She noticed that Danse had stopped mid-motion, the paladin appearing to silently watch the scene unfold.

  Preston trundled down the stairs, his smile kind as Mrs. O'Brian tried to thank him. "All part of the job, ma'am. We were happy to help." He assured her. "Really, you can thank that curmudgeon Rob. Without him telling the General about the super mutants, she never would have gone to Weston."

  Backhand rose from the dirt, brushing her knees off and meandering forward. Mrs. O'Brian launched into a new wave of thank-yous which Backhand attempted to graciously deflect, and in the midst of their conversation Mr. O'Brian arrived. He was wheezing a bit from the climb, freckled face red with exertion.

  "Matthew Amadeus O'Brian!" He thundered, and Matt lunged for him.

  "Papa!" The little boy cheered, hugging his father's leg. 

  "You had us out of our minds , young man!" Mr. O'Brian scolded, the relief in his eyes belying his sharp tone. "Don't you dare wander off like that again!"

  "I won't, I promise!"

  "We seriously can't thank you enough, we...we've been so worried ." Mrs. O'Brian daubed at her eyes with her sleeve. 

  Backhand caught her arm and carefully took her aside, speaking in undertones when she said, "Matt told us that he was trying to scavenge like his older siblings did. Apparently he overheard some discussions about food scarcity."

  Mrs. O'Brian froze guiltily, looking back at her son and husband. "I...well, the winter was so hard , General, and caps have been tight because the corn wouldn't pollinate properly. We'll get by, though. We always have." She said staunchly. 

  Backhand cocked her head towards the motionless Danse. "My friend Danse butchered a radstag earlier today. We ate our fill this morning, and Matt already promised us that you'd be willing to take the rest. It'll just go to waste, otherwise." She reasoned, watching the other woman's eyes glisten with tears all over again.

  "Oh General, we...I mean, if you're sure -?" 

  "Absolutely. Myself and the paladin will be going our separate ways from Lieutenant Garvey today, and that much meat will definitely spoil before we reach our next destination. Please, I insist."

  "I thought the Brotherhood of Steel wasn't willing to help civilians?" Mrs. O'Brian whispered cautiously, her eyes flitting to Danse.

  "I can't speak for anyone else, but my friend Danse is a cut above your average grunt." Backhand said proudly. "Once this settlement gets up and running I hope to establish a caravan between here and Starlight. If we can get the logistics squared away, hopefully that will make trade a little easier. I can't promise anything, but-"

  "I can already tell better days are coming." Mrs. O'Brian said softly, her hand clasping Backhand's own. "Now that the Minutemen are back...well, it gives folks hope again, and sometimes that's all you need." She then waved Danse over.

  His power armor grinding loudly, Danse obligingly approached the two women. "Citizen." He addressed Mrs. O'Brian with a polite nod once he was within earshot.

  "I wanted to personally thank you, Paladin Danse." The older woman announced, her voice wavering slightly. "For finding my son, a-and for the food."

  "Oh, you don't...er, thanks are not necessary, citizen." Danse floundered, rubbing the back of his neck. "A good Brotherhood of Steel soldier knows that their responsibilities lie with the people under their protection." His smile was slow, and a bit awkward. "I am simply glad that we discovered Matthew before any serious harm could be done, though I have to apologize for the cut above his eye."

  "Matt was hiding in a wall when we entered the facility, and we thought he was a hound. We may have gone through the wall." Backhand explained with a wince. 

  "The super mutants would have done much worse. Hopefully that little scrape helps him learn." Mrs. O'Brian brushed off their apology ruefully. "He's very fond of getting into trouble. I call him my little wanderer."

  "If you'll excuse me." Danse murmured, offering the older woman a salute and then turning to Backhand. "I should be done by fifteen hundred hours or thereabouts. At that point, I believe it would be prudent for us to return."

  "Are you sure? You're already burning your grease, Paladin." Backhand pointed out worriedly. 

  Danse shook his head. "Paladin Brandis will have reported in by now. I can get my armor serviced at the base."

  "Alright, I'll have everything locked and loaded." 

  The paladin nodded and headed back towards the framework of a wall that he had constructed. "God, he is tall ." Mrs. O'Brian muttered. "And stiff." She seemed to remember herself after a moment. "Uh, anyway! We really appreciate everything that you've done for us, General. Everything . If there's anything you need, or...even if you're just in the area, you're more than welcome to stop by. We'd love to have you visit!" She said, loudly enough so that Danse could hear her. 

  He simply nodded again and heaved a log up into his arms, then slammed it down over his armored knee to snap it in half. The bark essentially exploded off the trunk, bits and pieces landing on the ground as Danse shoved the crude beam into the dirt. Where the first half of the wall had been constructed with various scrap, the second half was much more reliant on raw lumber. It looked more like a stockade wall than anything.

  "Oh." Mrs. O'Brian said weakly. "Are they all...like him?"

  "I imagine some of them are way worse." Backhand chuckled. "We'll leave him to it. Let's get you that radstag."

  Mr. O'Brian was a touch more reserved than his wife, but he still expressed a wild amount of gratitude to Preston and Backhand. The entire time Matt was glued to his leg. "I'm just happy to know that there's still damn decent people out here." The older man remarked, looking a little misty as he secured the pelt over his shoulder. "We owe you a lot, General. You can count on us if the Minutemen ever need help."

  "I'll hold you to it, Mr. O'Brian. Lieutenant Matt." Backhand inclined her head to the little boy, who saluted her. "It's in your hands now, soldier. I'm depending on you. I know you're up to the task." 

  "Uh huh." Matthew replied, sounding a bit breathless. He scrambled away from his father right before they departed, fumbling with the knotted bandanna around his hand. "Here, General! I gotta' give you your luck back before I go." He said seriously, unwinding the cloth and returning it to Backhand. Without waiting for a reply, he then rushed at Danse. "Mister Danse! Hey, Mister Danse!" 

  Danse halted where he was. "Yes, Matthew?" He replied.

  "I wanted to say thank you. And I'm sorry I thought you were scary before. You're not that scary." Matthew said plainly. "You're nice even though you look scary."

  Danse arched a brow. "A charitable allowance, citizen. Maybe I'll bump into you again someday. In the meantime, try to stay out of mischief and listen to your parents. You are…" Danse paused, his expression sad. "You're very lucky to have them, Matthew."

  "I know!" The boy answered brightly, wrapping himself around Danse's greave in a makeshift hug before skipping back to his parents. "Bye, Mister Danse!"

  Danse raised one large gauntlet. "Goodbye, Matthew."

  …

  There was no easy way to say it. Danse was in a slump . It felt like the closer he got to the airport, the harder it was to force himself to keep moving forward. He doubted the amount of labor he had done earlier was helping matters, as the joints in his armor protested vigorously with every step. 

  When Knight Vega tentatively suggested that they find shelter for the night, Danse hated the relief that flooded his body. "The next suitable structure we come across." He promised, knowing that she must have spotted the radstorm he had been tracking on the horizon for several hours. 

  Steaming rain began to fall as Vega pointed out a ramshackle-looking lean-to, butted up alongside a collapsed house. "There, c'mon!" She said urgently, running through the tall grass alongside the road. 

  "Vega-!" Danse began to protest, lumbering along in her wake. Green lightning split the sky in the distance, the odd warbling thunder that accompanied radstorms rolling shortly thereafter. "Knight Vega, you don't know whether that's inhabited! "

  "I don't care!" Backhand retorted, shoving open the door with her shoulder and vanishing inside. 

  Danse tried to enter through the doorway, but it was too narrow. "Dammit Vega, you need to think your trajectory through. Don't just go running off whenever you get an idea in your head." He scolded, swapping his rifle to his right hand and flicking on the tact-light as he sidestepped gingerly through the door instead.

  The beam wavered in the darkness, playing over the battered walls and half-tarpaulin roof. It did appear that the tiny structure was deserted, and Danse wasn't sure if he should be even more cautious. What could have caused the previous inhabitants to depart? 

  Backhand stood in the middle of the room, her arms folded around herself as she shivered. "C'mon, get in here. The wind is picking up and I'm freezing ." She complained.

  Danse attempted to oblige, nearly cracking his head open on one of the ceiling trusses in his haste. The paladin grimaced, ducking and then carefully closing the door behind him. "Better?" He asked, a little irritated with her demanding attitude. 

  "Y-Yes." She replied, her voice sharp. She immediately began stripping her armor off, as well as the Vault suit beneath it. 

  Danse flinched, turning his head away. "Vega, will you-"

  "Please just...just give me a second." She begged. 

  Danse's brow furrowed, and the paladin shot her a look. Thunder rumbled in the distance and...was that a flinch? "Vega, are you-"

  "Just give me a second! " Backhand cried, probably louder than she had intended. Danse took a reflexive step back, his gauntlet clattering against the wall. "I'm sorry, I...I'm sorry, Danse. Paladin." She apologized after a second, floundering with her greaves. "It's the rain, I can't...it makes me feel sick to my stomach." 

  "You should have said something earlier, Vega." Danse chided gently. "We could have found a more defensible position."

  "I thought if we moved quick, we might make it back to the airport before it hit." Her motions were jerky as she yanked the Vault suit down, unlacing her boots as an afterthought. "But now we're stuck here for the night."

  "At least the roof appears to be sound." Danse tried to look on the bright side of their incarceration, and tried to not look at her as she stripped to her smallclothes. He was dry aside from his head, the gorget seal at his neck saw to that. But Backhand had no such luck. "I'll put my armor in front of the door to barricade it." Danse offered after a moment, taking the opportunity to turn his back to her. He didn't get a reply, and he honestly wasn't sure if he had even expected one in the first place. 

  Danse emerged from the armor, stepping down and back smoothly before he urged the hatch closed once more. He then popped the fusion core out and tucked it into his utility belt. He knew he was being overly cautious and performative when it came to giving Knight Vega her privacy, but at this point he was doing this for his own sanity as well.

  After a pregnant pause, he heard her shift her weight. "Okay, I'm decent." She mumbled.

  The scent of lantern oil wafted past his nose and a light flared up behind him, turning his shadow into a pitch black silhouette on the wall. Danse took a gamble and slowly turned around.

  Vega had thrown on a shirt that reached her mid-thigh. That was her idea of decent? She scuttled around bent nearly double, spreading her bedroll without even bothering to clear the floor beneath it. "Vega." Danse addressed her quietly, then a bit louder when she failed to respond, " Vega . You'll do serious damage to your back if you sleep so rough. Take a minute to prepare."

  "I-" Backhand's eyes were wild when they met his own. For a moment, Danse wasn't certain she knew who he was, or if she even saw him . 

  "Knight," He paused, clearing his throat and then mumbling, "Elizabeth." Saying her actual name, the name she had given Matthew, felt oddly inappropriate. "You're alright." He assured her calmly. "You're fine. We have shelter, light and food. You're alright."

  "I know ." Backhand retorted. "I-I know. And don't call me that." 

  "What?" Danse asked in confusion. "I apologize, I didn't mean to-"

  "Paladin, please ." Backhand's eyes had gone fierce, pale blue snapping in the light from the lantern. "I'm not his fucking Beth anymore." She practically snarled the words.

  "I didn't call you Beth. I called you Elizabeth." Danse replied, trying to gentle his tone.

  "Oh. I... God , Danse, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to be all…" she trailed off helplessly, making a vague gesture. "I didn't sleep well and getting sick from the rain wouldn't help. We used the last of the Rad-X for you."

  Ah . Danse should have known. This wasn't about her getting damp or being uncomfortable, it was the usual resource scarcity that had her on edge. "It'll be alright, Knight Vega. We're only a few hours out from the airport." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue. "I apologize for using your first name. I was unaware that it was a raw subject for you."

  "It's not , not really. I just...he used to call me Beth and I'm not that person anymore. It's been so long since I heard Elizabeth that I must have just assumed you said Beth. I'm sorry, Danse." She was wringing her hands nervously.

  "Logan." Danse murmured.

  "What?"

  "Fair's fair, right? My first name is Logan. I regret that I have no nickname to give you."

  …

  Backhand's eyes widened. Logan . It was a good name. It suited him. She mouthed it once to herself. "Don't encourage me to give you a nickname." She joked, aware that she probably sounded a little too reedy. "I can guarantee you'll regret it."

  Danse's eyes crinkled good-naturedly at the edges when he smiled down at her. "I don't doubt it," He allowed, repeating, "but fair is fair, Knight."

  "I don't like the radstorms at all." Vega blurted out, a blush staining her face. "The thunder, it's wrong and I hate it."

  "Understandable, Knight. The noise is highly unsettling." Danse had her gather her sleeping bag back up, the paladin using a spare piece of plywood that he found by the door like a makeshift plow to shove the debris off to the side. "There," He said finally after he was satisfied with the state of the floor, " now you can lay down. Without worrying about tetanus or a herniated disc." He teased.

  "The Brotherhood will not forget your sacrifice." Backhand ribbed in reply, smoothing the wrinkles out of her bedroll.  

  "And this is how I'm promoted to star paladin." Danse said dryly. "For my dedication to the art of proper slumber in the field." He shook his head ruefully, unrolling his own sleeping bag and spreading it lengthwise at the base of his armor. He was blocking the door, Backhand realized after a second. Like the immobile armor wasn't enough!

  "Hey, come over here." She requested boldly, patting the cement beside her. 

  Vega didn't expect him to obey, the larger man dragging his bedroll parallel with hers after a moment of thought. "I suppose the floor is more level here." He reasoned. "Good eye, Knight."

  "Oh yeah, it's not because you're probably warm or anything. I was definitely looking out for you."

  Danse's chuckle was soft. "Understood. I am a commodity." He lowered himself onto his sleeping bag, waiting patiently as she dug through her satchel. 

  "So for dinner, we have a wonderful assortment of Cram. After that, I'll brew us some tea." Backhand said finally, digging two cans out of the pack. " God I wish I'd had the stuff to bake bread, would have made us some back at Oberland." 

  Danse shook his head. "It spoils so fast out on the road. Though during the harsher months there is nothing quite like a fresh slice of hot bread with a little grease alongside the meat stew from the mess hall." He sounded wistful, despite the fact that Backhand knew he was talking about military food and therefore it probably wasn't anything to write home about.

  "Remind me to bake you some bread." Backhand tossed him a can of Cram, and then opened her own with less-than-steady hands. She did her best to ignore the storm that was raging closer and closer, steeling her spine from flinching at every rumble of thunder.

  Danse all but devoured the canned substance, the large man obviously starving from his day of labor and walking across the Commonwealth. He drowsily watched Backhand set up the small coffee pot she lugged with her, the lantern now doubling as a brazier of sorts. Backhand pried open her tea tin after a momentary struggle, grabbing one of the bags inside and dropping it into the pot of dubiously-clean water without much ceremony.

  The tea was a hubflower blend, lacking in caffeine and bearing a sweet, calming scent. Backhand often employed this beverage when she had difficulty sleeping, finding that the entire tea-brewing process tended to calm her racing mind.

  Danse dug out the cup from his mess kit for her to pour into, the thin metal thoroughly scoured clean and dented from use in the field. "Be careful, it's really hot." Backhand warned, gingerly scooting the cup across the floor to the large man.

  He nodded absently, cradling the cup close. He looked pensive, as though he wanted to ask something but couldn't quite think of how to phrase it. "Knight... how do you know of the way to get into the Institute?" Danse's tone was wearily quizzical. "That information is...it's unprecedented , but I assume you must know that already."

  Backhand exhaled, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to gather her thoughts. It was a relatively straightforward story, all things considered, though some portions would sound insane . So she started talking.

  She told Danse about going to Diamond City and employing the assistance of a well-known detective. Finding out that Kellogg had been there, with a ten year old child. The grueling endeavor of tracking him across the Commonwealth, culminating in a ferocious gunfight against the mercenary and his group of synths. The grisly discovery of the devices implanted in his body, and the slow unraveling of the truth from the escaped Institute scientist in the Glowing Sea. Teleportation .

  Backhand conveniently left out the fact that Detective Nick Valentine was a synth, and that Virgil the Institute scientist was once a man, who had in turn become a super mutant by force of necessity. 

  She sipped her tea, realizing that her throat was parched from talking. The look that Danse was giving her was one of extreme incredulity and she grimaced into her cup.

  "Christ, Vega." He said hoarsely. "What happens now?"

  "Well, if I have any luck left , I figure out how to convince someone to help me build a giant machine that I don't really understand." Backhand shrugged glibly. "Sturges has been working on a few things, but I think this project might be beyond his scope of expertise." 

  "Maybe Proctor Ingram should take a look at the plans you have? If there's anyone I know that can make sense of a mess, it's Ingram." Danse suggested tentatively. "Her and Haylen are...just outstanding ." The warmth in his tone whenever he spoke of Haylen never failed to make Backhand smile, but this was the first time he seemed to notice her doing it. "What? Did I say something funny?"

  "Not at all! You just talk about Haylen like she hung the stars." Backhand pushed down the brief flare of envy she felt. "It's sweet."

  " Sweet? " Danse sputtered, a flush rising on his cheeks. "I am not...she isn't--Knight, you misinterpret my admiration. She is a phenomenal soldier, an immensely talented field scribe. I sponsored her as an initiate. She and Rhys are...they're the only ones left of Gladius. I'm thrilled that they've decided to pursue a relationship." Danse's eyes were soft and haunted in the dim light of the guttering lantern, but his words were sincere when he said, "They deserve to be happy."

  "What about you, though?" Backhand asked gently before she could stop herself. Danse tilted his head, appearing confused. "Don't you deserve to be happy too?"

  His smile was sad. "I am a paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, Knight Vega. I am sworn to uphold the tenets and be an example to the troops. My own happiness was doomed to irrelevancy the moment I accepted the promotion." He folded his hands in front of him, leaning forward a little and staring at the floor. "Truthfully, it was rendered obsolete long before then."

  …

  "Why?" Vega sounded curious and Danse cursed himself for even bringing up the topic.

  He could lie, or simply brush off her question. But that didn't sit right with him. Danse sighed heavily and began to speak.

  He talked about growing up alone in the Capital Wasteland, no parents or siblings that he could recall. Always alone, picking through the ruins for anything edible or salvage that he could trade. He talked about opening his own little stand in Rivet City once he was grown, and he was ashamed of how his voice broke when he mentioned Cutler. Joining the Brotherhood had been a no-brainer, like it was the only course of action possible. Everything had gone so well. He had felt like he was actually making a difference. Until the day Cutler disappeared on a scouting mission. Danse vaguely remembered arguing with Paladin Krieg, his sponsor attempting to shout down the then-knight. But Danse was fiercely stubborn.

  He tried to tell her what he had found when he had finally tracked the remains of Cutler's squadron down, tried to continue his explanation as to why his personal happiness held little to no ground in his life, but the lump in his throat left him incapable of speech. 

  Backhand's touch on his arm startled him and he jerked, looking up at her. Her eyes were sorrowful. "Hey, you don't have to say any more." She offered him a weak-looking smile. "I get it. I lost my C.O. during an assault on an enemy bunker. You feel like it's your fault and you stay up all night trying to figure out what you could have done to save them."

  "I know it's futile to think of such things. " Danse rasped.

  "And yet you do it anyway." Backhand rubbed his arm. "Empathy is some rotten stuff, Paladin Danse, but we need to be reminded that we're human sometimes." Her sigh followed the tail end of a rolling boom of thunder. "I was incapacitated by the same explosion that killed Sergeant Cathan. He bled out next to me. I was shipped home with him technically, although I wasn't in a pine box. I went to his funeral, got to listen to his widow try to keep her shit together when I knew all she wanted to do was bury every single uniformed asshole there that had sent her husband to die." Backhand scoffed. "I knew because I felt the same way."

  "I was furious with Arthur for sending Cutler's squadron out to that corner of the wastes." Danse admitted. "It was shortly after I had discovered what happened to Cutler that Ar-" He stopped short, horrified that he had nearly let the information slip.

  " Come on Danse! " Arthur had complained, rolling his eyes . " I know you did this stuff for Cutler. "

  Danse cleared his throat. "It doesn't matter." He breathed. He had always been a terrible liar and he knew Vega didn't buy it for a second . 

  Those pale blue eyes narrowed and she scooted even closer, her sleeping bag pooled around her knees as she studied his face. Danse just tried to avoid eye contact. "What did he do, Danse?" She asked softly.

  " Nothing ." Danse stressed the word, his tone sharp. "I said it didn't matter, and it doesn't."

  "Hey." Backhand murmured, "I'm on your side, okay? Don't lie to me. Whatever it is, it's eating you alive."

  Danse's breath hitched. How could she tell? How could she pierce through the stoic facade he had painstakingly crafted over the course of his military career? 

  The answer came to him suddenly and he felt a little foolish for not having seen it sooner. 

  She wanted to. 

  Ludicrously simple, almost child's play. It was because she dared to bother . In a world that was more than content to let appearances be, she did the unthinkable and probed past the first glance.

  She was like Cutler. Perhaps a bit too much like Cutler. Curious to a fault, whip-smart and witty. Danse's heart ached in his chest. The idea of opening himself up again like he had with Cutler was... terrifying , mind-numbing, it was like standing on the deck of the Prydwen knowing that one misstep could send him plummeting to his demise. He had barely survived the depression that had engulfed him after he was forced to end Cutler's life, knowing that it was what the other man would have done in his stead but also hating himself for being able to carry it out at all. What did that say about him as a person, that he could stare into the eyes of the only individual he had been truly intimate with and kill him without a word?

  Danse was a model soldier. He was relatively certain that he would be following orders until the day he died. No one had ordered him to go after Cutler. He could have left it alone, simply gone along with the " missing, presumed dead " verdict. But those damn emotions he struggled with so much had reared their ugly head, made him volatile to the point where he had gotten into a screaming match with Paladin Krieg . 

  The person he had really wanted to shout at had been Maxson, both for assigning Cutler such a far-flung post and for doing it without warning. Danse hadn't even been able to say goodbye , damn it.

  And then the hive, the empty suits of power armor covered in blood and gore and fragmentary human remains and Cutler , babbling nonsense in a voice that grated and shrieked. He hadn't recognized Danse when the other knight foolishly removed his helmet. Instead, Cutler had lunged at him, trying to tear him apart with his newfound mutant strength--

  "Danse?" 

  The paladin jolted at the sound of her voice. "It doesn't matter, Knight." He repeated dully. "We should get some sleep." Without waiting for a reply, he shifted down a bit in his bedroll and tugged the fabric up over his shoulders. 

  Backhand stayed up for a bit longer, probably finishing her tea. The rain continued to beat on the roof, the occasional flash of green lightning blazing through every crack and crevice in the dilapidated lean-to. 

  The Capital Wasteland hadn't gotten storms like these. Danse had to assume that they must blow in from the Glowing Sea to batter the surrounding landscape. 

  He heard her shuffling around, and her whisper of " good night, Danse ." He didn't reply, hoping she would believe he was asleep. 

  Vega sighed softly and Danse barely kept himself from jumping when he felt her back press against his own. He wasn't sure if the defensive sleeping position was really necessary what with his armor in front of the door and all, but he appreciated the strategic forethought. 

  It felt like he had only closed his eyes for a second, the rain pounding on the roof lulling him into a doze and then he was being blinded by a particularly vibrant beam of sunlight. Danse grunted, half-lidding his eyes to try and adjust to the light.

  He idly watched over the top of Vega's head as motes of dust wafted lazily through the beam, the paladin feeling weirdly peaceful and unhurried. As if he could take the time to simply observe the world. He noted that he had rolled over in his sleep, and so had Elizabeth. Backhand. Knight Vega . 

  His thighs were pressed against the jut of her knees, her elbows tucked into his stomach through the layers of their bedrolls. Backhand apparently slept with her hands folded beneath her chin, but her left arm was threaded up beneath the hem of her shirt to do so. It pulled the fabric to bunch just above the bottom of her breasts and only through extreme self control did Danse manage to exhale slowly through his gritted teeth, knowing that his face must be bright red. 

  He flicked his gaze back up to the sunbeam, feeling like a lech. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He could pretend like he was still asleep, but that may come at the cost of their progress. He'd rather not sleep rough yet again, although if it was beside Vega--

  No , Danse reprimanded himself sharply. Maxson had given him hell for his lack of self control the last time he had seen him. The last thing he wanted was to give Arthur the satisfaction of…

  Of what? Having something else in Danse's life that he could ruin or take away? 

  Danse reached out slowly, cautiously, taking hold of the fabric of Vega's sleeping bag and drawing it up and over her shoulder to preserve her modesty. Then, the paladin eased his body away from hers to rise, his back protesting a little when he stretched. 

  The sooner we get back to the Prydwen, the sooner I can get my armor serviced , he mused, still opting to let Backhand sleep a bit longer as he checked over their weapons and his gear.

Part Eight