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geekgirles · 1 day

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The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 4: A Lesson in Humility

Word Count: 15,747

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Chapter summary: "With Yugo unavailable to spend time with her, Amalia makes a daring request: that she be allowed to attend to Glip and Baltazar's classes. The question is, will she be able to keep up with one of the Council members least willing to accept her? And what will she be able to gain from going to class in the first place? Perhaps, this will turn out to be a learning experience for not just her, after all."

Was it weird to feel that after an experience that should have brought you closer to someone the distance between the two of you was greater than ever?

Because Amalia would be lying if she said that wasn’t how she was feeling at the moment.

She really couldn’t make sense of it, no matter how much she tossed and turned at night trying to decipher it. And by ‘it’ she meant Yugo. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something had changed ever since their little excursion to the beach. The doll had already grown accustomed to his mercurial moods—sometimes he would be nothing but sweet and kind to her, other times, it was as if the mere thought of standing close to her was enough to freeze him on the spot. But given that was how he’d been acting since they first met, Amalia just figured that was just how he was, so she really didn’t think twice about it.

Things didn’t seem to be quite so simple as of late.

Yugo still treated her cordially and his manners when interacting with her were impeccable, befitting how a king like himself should treat a lady. However, perhaps, he was just a tad too polite? While the Eliatrope never went out of his way to be rude to her, he did go above and beyond to ensure he wasn’t too familiar, either. Not that long ago, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Amalia’s hand, especially if he sensed she could use some comfort; before either of them realised it, the distance between them would gradually grow smaller; and the Divine Doll could have sworn there was this undeniable fondness in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

And yet, soon after they returned from their little adventure, all that perceived intimacy had gone up in smoke. In fact, she would dare to say the strangest thing was how she could feel it was all still there, even when it wasn’t; it was almost as if Yugo were holding back.

She saw it in the strained curl of his lips, how it appeared as if he were physically forcing the smile out of his face, or at least, forcing the genuine happiness out of it. More than once, surely when the king thought she wasn’t looking, the doll caught sight of his hands making the motion of reaching out for her from the corner of her eye, only for him to then tuck them close to his body, denying them any movement. It was in the way he tended to linger by her side, only to seemingly snap out of whatever trance he found himself in and excuse himself for the day.

Bringing her arms around herself for comfort, Amalia had to suppress a groan. It was all so confusing! How was it possible that he could act like that after their adventure, while she had actually felt closer to him than ever? Not only did they go out to explore, but thanks to Adamaï she learned that day the two of them shared a strong wanderlust. They had discussed all kinds of topics under the sun, from whatever few memories she had of her time in Inglorium, to the Eliatrope siblings' high intake of red meat.

And they’d learned so much about each other, too! Amalia learned how going through an Eliatrope portal felt like—and subsequently swore to never experience that again—, and about Eliatrope dragons being shapeshifters. Meanwhile, Yugo (and by extension Adamaï) learned all about her connection to nature and how certain actions against plant-life could inadvertently cause her pain, as well as her own brand of shapeshifting-based tailoring.

Moreover, Yugo had explained what love—or, more accurately, romantic love—was, and now she knew she had one more new experience to look forward to.

Everything had been so perfect then, so why did everything feel so wrong now?

Truth be told, the Divine Doll sensed something wasn’t right the moment the Eliatrope King hastily told them they should return to the palace, his tone sounding almost desperate as he broke the quiet that had fallen over them in the afternoon sun. Said feeling only grew as they made their way back to the palace and Yugo didn’t so much as utter a word the whole time.

At the time she had been too overjoyed by the whole experience to really dig into it, the optimistic, foolish part of herself shrugging his uncharacteristically quiet demeanour off as just Yugo being in another one of his moods. He’d be as good as new the next day.

Said hope that things would go back to normal soon was dashed the next morning when, for the first time since redecorating her chambers, Yugo didn’t go pick her up. Despite the initial disappointment, Amalia tried to reason with herself by pointing out his royal duties probably got in the way. It was only a matter of days before said disappointment turned into hurt when she realised he was purposely avoiding her. Not only did he not bother to go see her most days, but the few times he did let himself be seen by her, the Divine Doll could feel the growing distance between them chilling her to the bone despite Oma’s tropical temperatures, his demeanour nothing like the king’s whose friendship she’d come to hold so dear.

She was especially heartbroken to realise he had even put a stop to their little routine, as several days had passed since he last trained in front of her balcony. Whispers and murmurs running down the halls, her only way of knowing the Eliatrope King had seemingly gone back to the training grounds alongside his siblings.

Amalia would be lying if she said she hadn’t been surprised to discover the palace even had training grounds of its own. But that was beside the point.

The point was, the same loneliness she had been feeling soon after her arrival at Oma Island was back, only this time it wasn’t caused by a room she couldn’t quite call her own, but because the one person Amalia thought she could call her friend was nowhere to be seen, and when they were together, it still felt like she was all alone.

Even when she wandered around the palace halls, always crowded with servants and other Eliatropes, it was as if no one was there. No. Worse. If all felt as if she wasn’t there at all.

Was it possible to never be by yourself yet you always felt alone?

Much like the last time she felt like this, Amalia’s one saving grace was getting to explore the palace. It was the only thing she could really do on her own, after all. There was no doubt in her mind she would not be allowed outside again unless Yugo acted as her escort, something she honestly doubted would happen anyway given how the Eliatrope seemed so adamant on keeping her at arm’s length. Surely another day-long field trip would be off the table.

But more than anything, this time around she felt drawn to Glip and Baltazar’s classroom, her feet practically moving on their own accord and taking her in front of the large doors separating her from the Eliatrope siblings and the lessons they imparted behind them. Even if she couldn’t make out half of the things they said, the Divine Doll remained glued to those doors, her ears straining to absorb as much information as possible. It wasn’t mere curiosity anymore, but a genuine desire to learn that was only fuelled by Glip and Baltazar’s way of teaching.

It was incredible how such a little, anger-prone man could imbue such passion into the things he talked about, each phrase that left his mouth helping to craft a perfectly vivid image—when he wasn’t barking out instructions on how to perform a certain move, that is. And Baltazar was always there to add his own two kamas and add the remaining details to the story. When he wasn’t the one giving the lesson, of course. Just by listening to them talk was enough for Amalia to be transported to a whole other world, one she’d never even been to but that already felt like her own—and that was just from listening to a heavily water-down version of those stories!

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like to attend one of those classes and get the whole picture for once.

Just then, at the same time as Baltazar was retelling a tale about a time the Council of Six had to step in because a town’s cruel governor had died under mysterious circumstances, only for everyone in his town to insist it had been the town itself that killed him, the true extent of her thought process hit Amalia.

Clenching her fists against the door, her big, brown eyes glinted in determination as her resolve grew. As Yugo explained to her when he asked her if she wanted to go on an adventure around Oma Island, this was now her home, she was entitled to knowing her way around it. And considering she would also be living alongside the Eliatrope people for who knew how long despite being a Sadida Doll, then she figured she also had a right to know more about the race surrounding her. Moreover, if Yugo wasn’t there to help her like he said he would, then she figured she should ask the experts for help.

Then again, Yugo was still the king, while she was ‘just’ a guest—a guest sent there directly by the gods, true, but she probably wouldn’t be able to milk that moogrr forever—, so protocol dictated she asked for his permission first. And so, for the first time since she first discovered her new pastime, Amalia tore herself away from the door even before class had been dismissed. Her step was firm and assured as she walked down the hallways in search of the Eliatrope King, the pants clinging to her skin giving her the mobility she needed. And by Sadida she would get him to listen to her before he tried to evade her yet again!

It was high time she got to attend at least one of Glip and Baltazar’s classes.

........................................................................................................................

She found him just as he exited the throne room. Apparently, he had been listening to his people’s problems and grievances and looking for ways to solve them as quickly and efficiently as possible. Catching the tail-end of a conversation about some issue in particular Yugo couldn’t solve on his own, Amalia learned those kinds of problems were seemingly the ones the entire Council of Six deliberated on.

Not even that much time had passed since she made up her mind about attending class and she was already learning a lot. Amalia chose to count that as a sign she made the right call.

Yugo and Adamaï were immersed in conversation, discussing preliminary ideas on how to approach some of their people’s requests when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled them. It looked like they missed one person, that sometimes happened.

Not even looking at whom he was talking to, Yugo cleared his own throat. “My apologies. I’m afraid I must have not seen you. Tell me, what can I do for you?” When he finally laid his eyes on the person he was talking to, he idly wondered how come he hadn’t seen her.

Despite her resolve to be firm on her request regardless of Yugo’s weird behaviour as of late, any harshness in her gaze vanished at the almost frightened look on the Eliatrope’s face at the sight of her. Trying to ignore the painful pang in her chest at his reaction, Amalia couldn’t help but drape one arm over her abdomen, trying to offer herself some comfort. Her brown gaze turned unsure and evasive, and she kept shifting in place, nervous of the incoming conversation.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally found her voice. “Good morning, Yugo.” She bit her lip as she chanced a look his way. She allowed a small smile to grace her features. “And good morning to you as well, Adamaï.”

While the dragon answered with a nod and a smile of his own, he glanced over at his brother, waiting for his reaction. Finally, Yugo seemed to collect himself, squaring his features into a stoic mask and straightening his posture right before greeting the doll back, “Good morning, Amalia. It’s good to see you.”

The Divine Doll had to bite her lip to stop herself from accusing him of lying to her face. Instead, she said, “Yeah, you too.”

Despite herself, it really wasn’t a lie at all.

However, greetings and small talk only get you so far, a heavy silence falling over the three of them as Yugo and Amalia couldn’t bring themselves to make the first move and speak. Eyes darting back and forth between the two and sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere—the tension was so thick he could’ve cut it with one of his claws—, it was up to Adamaï to awkwardly break the ice.

“Is everything alright, Amalia?” He asked, offering her a small smile to put her at ease.

The green-haired beauty let out an almost inaudible gasp, so consumed by her concerns she almost forgot why she had even come looking for Yugo in the first place. Blinking twice, she had a little trouble finding the words at first, “I-I… Um, well, you see… I…I just wanted to…to ask Yugo something.” She managed to stammer out.

Inside, however, she was groaning in desperation. Not that long ago, conversation with Yugo was as easy as breathing! How come trying to get the words out now was harder than taking a kama from an Enutrof?!

Her confession took the king aback. “R-really? You came all the way here because you wanted to ask me something?” While he did his best to remain nonchalant, deep inside he was bracing himself for the worst. Even if he knew what he was doing was for their own sake, a part of him wasn’t ready to be confronted by Amalia about it.

Not just yet. And, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, maybe not ever.

Which was why he had to do a double take when Amalia admitted instead, “I wish to be able to attend Glip and Baltazar’s classes as a student.” Then, she added, a bit more timidly, “If that’s okay, of course.”

Just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, the full extent of what the Divine Doll had just asked for hit him. “I’m sorry, you what?”

This time, Amalia stood a little taller, her voice a little clearer as she clenched her fists at her sides in determination. “I want to receive lessons from Glip and Baltazar.” She stated.

The Eliatrope siblings exchanged awkward glances. The implications behind Amalia’s request making them sweat.

“How do you know Glip and Baltazar are teachers?” Adamaï asked.

At that, she grew a little sheepish. A small blush on her cheeks as she fidgeted with her fingers, she looked away. “Well… Um, remember when you asked me why I was always out and about around the palace?”

Both nodded, and even if that conversation had been up to Yugo, Adamaï still remembered quite vividly the very animated council reunion it caused.

“One day, I stumbled across their classroom while class was in session during one of my little escapades.” The doll admitted sheepishly. She thought it’d be better to omit how she had half-listened to one lesson and hadn’t been able to bring herself to stop since.

On the outside, Yugo looked like he was paying rapt attention to what Amalia said, but on the inside he was positively freaking out. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Amalia wishing to go to class and learn more could result in unforeseeable consequences. Or even worse. It could result in the very consequences Efrim had been so paranoid about—Amalia acting as an undercover agent for the gods and trying to find out their secrets.

The fact that Glip himself wasn’t exactly one of her most ardent supporters only complicated matters.

Already fearing for the worst, Yugo scrambled to find a way to dissuade the Sadida Doll without making it too obvious he didn’t want her to learn more about his people. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

For now, he was off to a terrible start.

If having Adamaï staring owlishly at him wasn’t bad enough, Amalia’s little offended pout only put the last nail on the coffin.

“Why not?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Because…” the Eliatrope began, flashing his brother a pleading look and cursing under his breath when the dragon raised his claws up in a ‘Leave me out of this’ fashion. Resisting the urge to narrow his eyes at his sibling, he finally settled for the teacher’s most prominent flaw. “Because Glip has a terrible temper.” He blurted out, before regaining some confidence. “And he is very strict, too. Trust me, you don’t want to have your marks graded by him. If it were up to him, none of his students would pass unless they studied day and night.”

“But it’s not up to him. Baltazar is also a teacher and they work together.” Amalia pointed out, not missing a beat.

Feeling his eye twitch, Yugo felt the mighty need to scream into a pillow due to her very astute, very accurate observation.

“That’s true, but still, their classes can be very demanding…”

“But I want to learn!” Amalia exclaimed, her eyes big and pleading. “I’m tired of only half-listening to their lessons through closed doors, I want to have the full picture.”

“Wait, how long have you been eavesdropping on them…?” Adamaï tried to ask, but was ignored.

“And that’s commendable, Amalia, really!” Yugo tried to assure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. A second later, however, upon noticing what he had just done, he tucked it away as fast as if he’d been burned. He was so busy trying to regain some semblance of control, he missed the way the doll’s eyes dimmed at his actions. Or Adamaï’s frown. “It’s just…”

“What?” She cut him off, her tone challenging. “What’s so bad about me wanting to learn more about your people?”

Everything.

So far, Amalia’s curiosity about the world around her had been child-like and innocent, the kind you’d expect from a stranger in a brand new place. The kind of curiosity and wonder he felt for the world around him. But if she started asking questions about his people… Then he would no longer be able to convince his siblings she wasn’t up to something. He wouldn’t be able to convince himself she wasn’t a threat. And even though in the past he’d had no qualms confronting or even getting rid of what he thought might put his people’s safety in jeopardy, for some reason, when it came to Amalia, he couldn’t bear the thought of cutting her off for good.

He blamed his people’s need to get in this world’s gods’ good graces for making him hesitate.

And for making him realise he couldn’t just say he wouldn’t allow her to study with Glip and Baltazar because she couldn’t be trusted.

So he lied through his teeth. “Because only children attend their classes; when Eliatropes reach a certain age, they choose their own path, be it battle, crafts, medicine… Won’t you feel a little uncomfortable being the only adult in a room full of kids?”

“Glip and Baltazar are adults too.” Amalia shrugged, not missing a beat. She raised an eyebrow at him, however. “And didn’t you just say it would be very demanding? If anything, that would only mean it’s closer to my level than the kids’.”

Cursing how easily his words could be turned against him—and making it a point to dig his heel into Adamaï’s foot when he heard him snicker at his misfortune—, Yugo found himself floundering for words. “Well, yeah… But, um… you see… I…”

“Please, Yugo.” She cut him off, her voice desperate. Despite her apprehension and the weird phase their relationship was going through, Amalia mustered up the courage to step a little closer to him, her body leaning in with her hands clasped before her chest. Pleading, begging for him to listen to what she had to say. “You told me it was only natural I learned my way around Oma Island if this is going to be my home from now on. Don’t you think that should apply to your people, too?

“Not only am I a Sadida surrounded by Eliatropes and dragons, I’m the only Divine Doll currently inhabiting this world!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms to her sides to emphasise her point. “I’m going to be living with your people for the gods know how long, much like with the island, I need to know things about you, like your traditions, and what you consider sacred, things I must and mustn’t do… As I am right now, even the little kids Glip and Baltazar teach know so much more than I do! Please, Yugo, please! This isn’t about me just being curious, this is about me needing to learn, for my own sake.”

Her eyes were almost watery when she finished, her voice at the verge of breaking, “Please, tell me you will at least consider it.”

If Yugo was already having a hard time trying to remain firm and put his foot down in the face of Amalia going above and beyond to tug at his heartstrings, Adamaï's disapproving look at his refusal pushed him over the edge. Despite all he had been doing to ensure he wouldn’t get too close to Amalia and she wouldn’t get too close to him, it was plain to see he had much work to do if he wanted to be free of her influence.

Defeated, he drew a deep exhale through his nose. “I’ll ask Glip and Baltazar next time I see them, alright? After all, it’s their class. They have the last say in everything concerning it.”

Her reaction was immediate.

“Really?!” She exploded, her eyes shining like stars in the midnight sky at the good news. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Yugo!”

The Divine Doll was beyond herself with joy. Sure, she still needed Glip and Baltazar’s permission, but she was already one step closer to her goal! Amalia was so overjoyed, she couldn’t help herself and practically threw herself at Yugo’s arms, the pull to hug him tightly as thanks stronger than she was.

But just as she was about to wrap her arms around him in celebration, she was abruptly stopped by two strong hands resting firmly on her shoulders. Eyes snapping open at the unexpected action, she glanced up, a painful pang in her chest at the sight of Yugo looking supremely uncomfortable as he tried to keep her at bay.

Memories of the last few days rushing back, Amalia quickly took a step back and away from the king. Making a show of dusting off her outfit and willing the blush away from her cheeks, mortified, she cleared her throat. “Um, uh, thank you, Yugo.” She coughed into her hand.

“You’re welcome, Amalia. I’ll see what I can do.” Was Yugo’s equally awkward response, his throat tightening up.

Moving back and forth on the heel of her feet, she eventually pointed behind her. “I… Um, I should probably go. I’m sure you’re quite busy. Uh, thanks again and, you know, see ya! You too Adamaï.”

As the two waved awkwardly at each other, turning around and resolutely making their way to opposite directions of the palace, Adamaï watched it all with a critical eye. As he stared at his brother’s retreating back, replaying what had just taken place as well as the past few days’ events in his mind, the dragon narrowed his eyes.

He had a very bad feeling about this. The kind of feeling that told him Yugo would come to regret whatever he was doing very soon.

........................................................................................................................

“Nope. Absolutely not. Not gonna happen. I forbid it.”

Yugo had half the mind not to slam his head against the table in exasperation. It was one thing that Glip refused to teach Amalia, but his doing so this vehemently, to the point of crossing his arms and deliberately shaking his head to get his point across, was just unnecessary.

It took even more of him not to slam Qilby against the table for what he said next:

“Did anybody else notice all we ever talk about when we meet up as of late is Yugo’s precious flower?” He pointed out, one finger raised and his characteristically smug smirk on his lips.

“Meh, it beats having to listen to you bring up our 97th reincarnation and how Chibi and Grougal’s first spaceship prototype blew up in their faces.” Phaeris shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Luckily for him, it was the aforementioned inventors’ turn to patrol the island, so he wouldn’t get in hot water with them for making fun of their scientific pursuits.

The peeved snarl curling at Qilby’s lip at his dragon brother’s quip was a welcomed reminder as to why Mina and Phaeris were the king’s favourite siblings after Adamaï. While they always knew how to break up their infighting and childish bickering, Phaeris in particular had the added divine gift of always knowing how to get under the bespectacled Eliatrope’s skin.

It really was the sweetest payback after all his relentless teasing.

“That actually happened in our 79th reincarnation and you know it!” Qilby snapped, his hazel eyes narrowing at his brother behind his glasses. On the table, his fists clenched in aggravation even after Shinonomé placed a hand on them to calm her twin down.

“Don’t start up again, you two.” The red dragoness admonished, tired of the same old song and dance. “We have much more urgent matters to attend to, like Lady Amalia’s request.” She reminded them, her tone kind but serious.

“They can spend all day bickering as far as I’m concerned, because I already made my stance on allowing the Divine Doll near any of my classes clear.” Glip groused, his arms still folded over his chest stubbornly as he stuck up his nose in indignation.

They were currently gathered around the Eliaculus at the council room once again, Yugo having called for a meeting as soon as he’d been done listening to his subjects’ grievances for the day. It was something they usually did. Whenever the king was faced with a problem he couldn’t solve on his own, he summoned his siblings at the council room to tackle the issue together and find a solution to it. The fact that this time the reunion also came immediately after Amalia made her request was a very beneficial coincidence for the Sadida Doll.

And a very unfortunate one for Yugo.

“And you’d be wise to refuse her request, Glip.” Efrim chimed in, his long tail curled around his lithe body even as he rested on his chair. Without warning, he jabbed a claw on the table. “It’s one thing we allow her to roam freely around our palace or our island, but letting her learn more about us directly from the source?” He scoffed at the mere thought, before sniffing derisively, “What’s next, sending her to Chibi and Grougal’s laboratory so she can learn how to build a weapon to kill us all? I say we’d better not take any chances.”

Massaging his temples in an attempt to soothe his pounding headache, Yugo bit his lip as to not point out that Chibi and Grougal would actually be ecstatic to have a willing audience as they worked on their projects. Or the fact that, technically speaking, Amalia still wasn’t allowed to leave the palace premises without him, so she couldn’t explore the island freely, either. That would only earn him a glare from Efrim, and he was not in the mood for arguing with him.

“Not only that,” Glip added, nodding along. “My students are young, it already takes everything in my power to get them to pay attention on their worst days, imagine what would happen if the Divine Doll were to join us; my class would fall into anarchy!”

Under the table, Yugo couldn't help but clench his fists until his knuckles turned white at the teacher’s words. Outrage on Amalia’s behalf bubbling up within him. That feeling only got worse at what he said next:

“Besides, even if they are disorganised, they are still my students. We’re very advanced on our syllabus, she would only lag behind.” He let out a low chuckle as he proceeded to examine his cane absentmindedly, as if the mere topic at hand bored him. “Better save her the embarrassment of being the only adult in a group of children who doesn’t know the most basic aspects of Eliatrope society.”

The king knew his brother could be quite brusque and ill-tempered, not to mention arrogant in his own abilities, but the way he was disregarding their guest was simply uncalled for. Amalia did not deserve to be looked down like that when all she wanted to do was learn. Fortunately, before he had the chance to tell Glip any of that, Baltazar mercifully beat him to it:

“The only reason she doesn’t know, Glip, is because she is a Sadida Doll.” The dragon pointed out from his spot behind his sibling, where he rested lying on the floor. “You cannot expect someone so young and from an entirely different culture to immediately know everything about ours, especially if you refuse to teach her.”

Pretending to lower his head in a nod, Yugo took advantage of the way his hood came to cover most of his face to allow a small, grateful smile to plaster itself on his lips. He could always count on Baltazar to reign his twin brother in.

Despite his large size, Baltazar was arguably the least imposing of the Eliatrope dragons. Unlike the rest, who flaunted lithe yet robust forms and an impressive wingspan, Baltazar, much like his twin, was comparatively stumpy. His body was distinctly barrel-shaped, with thick limbs and tail, but stubby wings and horns. Truth be told, more than once the siblings found themselves wondering how they withstood his weight whenever he flew. Their best bet was that it had to be his own special gift.

Baltazar stood out in many other ways as well. His scales were a very light beige, with darker-coloured spots covering his form from head to tail. His snout was as square-shaped as his twin’s face, and the pair also shared their bushy eyebrows, however, unlike Glip’s chesnut-coloured hair and goatee, Baltazar sported a rather unkempt white beard, which gave him a grandfatherly look even back when they were all children.

It wasn’t like the look provided by his beard wasn't appropriate, though, for while Glip could be strict, easy to anger, and very grumpy, Baltazar was much calmer, more patient—especially with the kids—, and very kind. Even if he actually wasn’t the eldest sibling, he really did play the role of grandfather perfectly. So it wasn't a surprise that he was usually the one tasked with reeling his brother’s worst impulses in.

Unfortunately, while his comment gave Glip some pause, he apparently still had much to say.

“Perhaps, dear brother.” The shortest Eliatrope started, his lips pursed. “But precisely because she is from a completely different race, there’s not much I can teach her. Remember? I specialise in teaching Wakfung—I cannot teach someone who doesn’t project wakfu like we do.”

“Thank the Great Goddess for that!” Efrim chimed in sarcastically. “Can you imagine the disaster it would be if she discovered the flaws in our fighting style?”

“Efrim, please. Let’s hear what Baltazar has to say.” Nora whispered to him, almost pleadingly, a hint of concern in her voice. She loved her brother and understood better than anyone his desire to be careful, but she was starting to grow worried over his growing hostility towards Amalia. Each passing day, he sounded less like the brother she so adored and more like a complete stranger.

Purposely ignoring the youngest twins’ conversation, Baltazar pressed on, not missing a beat. “That does not mean she cannot learn about our history or our customs, Brother. You may specialise in Wakfung, but Baltazar doesn't.” Raising one paw from the ground, he proudly pointed between the two of them to emphasise his point.

That was another key difference between the two siblings. While they weren’t above working together to lecture their students on certain topics—in fact, those were arguably their best lessons—, the two had different interests and approaches to their people’s education. Glip was a firm believer that their people should learn how to control their wakfu and defend themselves as soon as possible, hence why he was an expert on Wakfung, their people’s martial art of combining their particular brand of magic with hand-to-hand combat. Meanwhile, Baltazar was the most scholarly of the two, his passion for uncovering and sharing knowledge second only to Qilby and Shinonomé—and only because they had the unfair advantage of retaining everything they learned from their previous lives.

Despite his brother’s best efforts, Glip only shook his head ruefully. “Brother, I’m afraid you’re clearly not seeing the dangers in allowing the Divine Doll in our class. She could endanger the children!”

“Exactly!” Efrim agreed, his tail unfolding just enough for him to stand taller amongst his siblings around the table. “We have yet to determine she is not a threat to us, and with those Cra sentinels from the other day threatening our safety from the outside, we can’t afford to allow the threat to come from inside!”

“Phaeris took care of the Cra, Young One.” The dragon in question was quick to remind his younger brother, never one to let his efforts go unnoticed. He wasn’t called ‘The Powerful’ for nothing. “Phaeris intercepted them before they could get too close to the island.”

“The mere fact that they came all the way here is suspicious enough.” Efrim shot back ominously, his eyes narrowing menacingly.

“Efrim is right.” Glip agreed, not for the first time. At this point, Yugo was inclined to believe the two had formed an Anti Amalia Club or something behind their backs and this was all rehearsed. “Our people are vulnerable as is, we can’t afford the risk of letting the Divine Doll uncover our secrets!” In his disbelief, the Wakfung master stomped on the floor with his cane, the resounding thud! echoing around the council room. He shook his head ruefully. “I simply do not understand why you and Yugo are so intent on letting her attend our class.”

While Baltazar remained impassive even in the face of his twin’s outburst, Yugo was having a hard time trying not to squirm out of his chair and tear Glip a new one. The worst part was he didn’t even understand his own behaviour! This was what he wanted; for Glip to reject Amalia’s request so she wouldn’t have access to their secrets and end up proving his distrusting siblings right about her. For all intents and purposes, he should be siding with Glip and Efrim on this one! He had tried dissuading her of her goal not even an hour ago!

This—was—what—he—wanted!

And yet, the moment his siblings started accusing Amalia, claiming she only had ulterior motives rather than a genuine interest in their culture or, even worse, that there was no point in trying to teach her anything, it all made his blood boil. His fingers clutching at the fabric of his cloak as he tried to keep himself in check, he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. And he stubbornly refused to meet Adamaï’s eyes because he knew his brother would be able to tell he was quite bothered by everything that was taking place and he did not want to give him the satisfaction.

Again, it was Baltazar who voiced the king’s thoughts—although the heavily revised and edited version of them. “Lady Amalia is our guest and has expressed an interest in learning more about us. Many would wish to have the same opportunity.”

“Perhaps, but surely those people have a lot more to gain from the experience than us.” Glip replied stubbornly, glancing up at his brother and raising an eyebrow, as if daring the dragon to refute him.

It seemed as if he had underestimated the old scholar, for he simply smiled down at him. “Just like Lady Amalia wishes to know more about us, we could take this opportunity to learn more about Sadida.” Yugo and Adamaï were taken aback when Baltazar’s tired gaze rested on them. “After all, just the other day, Yugo and Adamaï discovered Sadidas’ connection to nature is so deep, they feel pain if plants are damaged. That is valuable information.”

“Indeed. I’ll make sure to apologise next time I make myself a salad.” Glip deadpanned.

Yugo had had enough. His siblings’ attitude towards Amalia had long moved past simple wariness to outright disrespect. If they wished to eventually live in peace with the other races populating the World of Twelve, that kind of behaviour would simply not do.

So he told Glip as such.

“While I understand your concerns, Glip,” that wasn’t a lie, he had been genuinely worried upon hearing Amalia’s request. “We mustn’t waste a perfect opportunity like this one. Who knows when the next one will present itself?”

“‘Perfect opportunity’?” Efrim echoed, mockery dripping from his tone. “To what, draw a target on our backs that says, ‘Come and get us!’?”

“To be one step ahead.” Yugo smirked when that finally got a reaction from the members attending, though not before sending Nora a look telling her to please control her brother.

“What do you mean by that, Yugo?” It was Mina who spoke. Much like Shinonomé, for the most part she had chosen not to intervene. After all, at least this time their conversation was more like an animated debate than a heated argument on its way to becoming a fist fight.

“If the gods have truly sent Amalia to spy on us and learn our weaknesses, then let’s turn that into an advantage!” He finally stood up from his chair, his aching body ever grateful for the small respite—how come Chibi and Grougal could successfully lead the construction of an entire settlement in record time, and yet they couldn’t choose comfortable furniture for one of the rooms they’d be spending the most time in?

He leaned closer to the table, his hands resting on it as he made his point. “The gods said Amalia was sent here as a sign of good will, and yet, we haven’t treated her as such since she arrived! I say we play their game and beat them at it.”

Glip couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He loved and respected Yugo both as his brother and his king, but it was clear all logical thought escaped him whenever his little doll was concerned. And seeing as Adamaï wasn’t much help at the moment, it was up to him and Efrim to get their ruler to see reason.

“That’s all great and all, but what does any of that have to do with the Divine Doll attending my class?”

He certainly hadn’t been expecting Yugo’s answer:

“It’ll help us set the right example.” He smirked, his brown eyes glinting excitedly at his own idea. With the same amount of energy, he made a sweep around the table with his eyes, purposely drawing his siblings’ attention to him. “If we hope to live in peace with the Twelvians, then we should know each other’s history, culture, and traditions. And what better way to start than by having a Divine Doll learn all about ours?

“In turn, I’m sure Amalia will be delighted to let us know whatever we want about her, her sisters, and maybe even their father. After all, she had no qualms showing vulnerability when I accidentally hurt her—if she truly were here as our enemy, she would show no weakness of any kind, especially if it can be exploited.”

At that, the attending members of the Council of Six began to deliberate, murmurs of agreement echoing around the walls as Yugo watched it all, a supremely self-satisfied grin on his face.

“It is true Amalia’s presence and the knowledge she can provide us with could be a huge help in ensuring the Sadida’s trust, at the very least.” Nora pointed out, her thumb and index finger holding her chin pensively. Even Efrim had to agree with her statement.

“Only because you won’t allow me to examine her.” Qilby complained with a sulky roll of his eyes. “Had you let me study her when I first suggested it, we would have all the answers by now!”

“We are not going to experiment on her, Qilby!” The entirety of the Council of Six (sans Chibi and Grougal, of course) roared in abject horror at their brother’s insistence, even Efrim and Glip. Just because they didn’t trust the Sadida Doll, it didn’t mean they trusted Qilby with her, either.

“You never let me do anything…” The bespectacled Eliatrope mumbled. With a sigh, Shinonomé began to gently rub his arm up and down for comfort.

“As Yugo said, Lady Amalia’s presence is supposed to be a sign of good will. It is high time we treated her as such.” Baltazar sentenced, putting an end to that particular topic. Despite his calm features, he sent his twin a very pointed look, clearly expecting him to be the voice of dissent once again.

For his part, even as he was still sulking in his chair, Glip perked up at his brother’s not-so-subtle stare. Despite himself, he let his eyes wander around his siblings, gauging their reactions. He had to bite the inside of his cheek when everyone was looking at him expectantly. He could feel a vein about to pop—he hated when they all ganged up on him like that!

After what felt like an eternity, the Wakfung master let out a long-suffering sigh that gradually turned into a groan. Rubbing his eyes in frustration and exhaustion, he asked, “You’re not gonna leave me alone until I give in, are you?”

Their shaking heads in unison was all the answer he needed, and the one he was dreading the most.

“Fine.” He ended up saying, although very reluctantly. “The doll can come to our class, but she’d better not fall behind! If she does, I’m not lifting a finger to help her!”

His threat lost a good amount of impact when Baltazar piped up, “Worry not. Baltazar will make sure to help her with whatever she may need.”

Glip sent his brother the stink-eye. “You just love undermining my authority, don’t you?”

Even with his imposing girth, Baltazar managed to shrug, an all-too-innocent smile on his snout as he looked down at his brother.

Glip’s scowl deepened. “The only reason you care about the doll being in our class is because that way you might learn a lot about her people, isn’t it?”

Baltazar’s smile didn’t falter.

While the masters bickered, Yugo let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting himself slump on his chair. A small, tired smile made its way to his features. At least that would make Amalia happy.

.........................................................................................................................

Amalia had a hard time remaining still as she waited for class to start. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She could already hear the children’s animated chatter from behind the doors, she was only waiting for Baltazar to announce her arrival so the kids wouldn’t be too surprised at the sight of the famed Sadida Doll sent to their king going to class with them. As she waited for her cue, she kept rocking herself back and forth on the ball of her feet, her hands tapping rhythmically against her thighs.

Since she had never been to the other side, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Would they all sit on the floor forming a ring around their teachers? Would they have individual desks and chairs? Maybe benches? Either way, the doll didn’t feel like taking any chances and settled for her adventuring outfit and the low-risk her pants provided. Maybe she wasn’t out and about seeing the world, but she was about to have her first day of class. If that wasn’t an adventure, she didn’t know what was.

She certainly felt more nervous now than she did when Yugo took her to the beach.

Her excitement dimmed slightly at the thought of the king. She hadn’t seen him since she made her request; he had even sent Adamaï to inform her of the good news rather than doing it himself. Amalia really didn’t know what had got into him, but she was starting to grow really sick and tired of feeling so helpless. Next time she got the chance, she was going to give that elusive monarch a piece of her mind.

Feeling all fired up, her fists clenched close to her chest determinedly, the Divine Doll almost jumped right out of her skin at the unexpected deep, gruff voice coming from down below.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not like this because you happen to find my brother’s customary greeting to the children riveting?”

Amalia didn’t need to even know who was talking to know their words were dripping with sarcasm. Then again, she was perfectly aware of whom the voice belonged to; she had listened to him talk far too many times not to be able to recognise him.

With a blink, she glanced down to her side and, lo and behold, there he was, Glip, the Eliatrope children’s Wakfung master. The doll still had no idea what Wakfung even was, but she had a feeling it might have been some sort of martial art given whenever it was time to teach it she would only hear battle cries and instructions like ‘Aim your portal a little higher’ or ‘Alternate between beam and kick’ coming from the other side.

As her brown gaze met Glip’s dark scowl, the doll could feel herself sweatdrop, an awkward laugh all she could muster at the moment. She knew he was harsh from listening in on his lessons, and the few times they crossed paths in the halls were almost as frightening as doing so with Efrim, but now that she found herself under the true fire of his gaze, Amalia felt scrutinised. Like he was already grading one of her tests.

And what was worse, like she failed said test.

A heavy silence stretched over them after his words, and Amalia had half the mind not to beg her father to suck her up in one of their divine portals or whatever they used to communicate with the World of Twelve and get her out of this situation. But then she remembered how much she wanted to be on the other side, and how much she begged Yugo for this and she changed her mind. Even if she was still mad at him for how weird he was being, Yugo definitely delivered.

It was thanks to him she was even allowed to study their people’s history and culture, the least she could do was remain strong in the face of adversity.

A sense of newfound vigour coursing through her veins, she clenched her fists discreetly to give herself some courage. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she addressed the Primordial Eliatrope that would be her teacher from now on, “It’s an honour to finally meet you—.”

“Rule Number 1: don’t talk in class unless you’ve been given permission after raising your hand.” He cut her off, not even looking her way.

Amalia blinked, taken by surprise. “But… we’re not even in class yet…”

He ignored her. “Rule Number 2: pay attention in class.” And with that and without looking back even once, he turned the doorknob and let himself inside, the children all quieting down and greeting their teacher at the sight of him.

Flabbergasted and not sure what to do, Amalia was about to open her mouth when she could finally make out Baltazar’s voice from the other side:

“From now on, children, a very special guest will join our class.” He started, the kind tone of his voice a stark contrast to his twin’s gruffness. “Apparently, she’s shown remarkable interest in our people, even if she is unfamiliar with our customs. That is why we must be patient and understanding of her situation. And without further ado, let’s all give a warm welcome to our new student: Lady Amalia!”

That was her cue. Taking one last deep breath to steady herself, Amalia copied Glip’s actions. She grabbed a hold of the doorknob and turned it, finally opening the door to new experiences, both literally and figuratively, and entered the room, though not before closing her eyes in slight apprehension.

When her arrival was met with an eerie silence, the Sadida Doll finally mustered up the courage to open one eye experimentally. Only for both of them to snap open in shock at the sight before her. Her brown gaze clocked in on the vast expanse of space inside, sandstone pillars lining up the mural-covered walls, only this time, it was clear to see the paintings were meant to reflect what took place inside the room—schematic designs of Glip and Baltazar were constantly surrounded by smaller Eliatropes as they either studied, played, or made portals; the little ones they were meant to raise and teach.

In the background she could make out a lot of equipment, such as safety nets, hoops, mats, and even what looked like small arenas. In fact, a quick glance upwards was all it took for the Sadida Doll to notice there was actually a large safety net, tied around the four sturdiest pillars, going from one side of the room to the other, right below the ceiling. Although Amalia had the impression there was a patch of space where the ropes seemed more worn out than the rest, but she had no time to dwell much on it. It was all very impressive to see, but she had no idea what it was even for.

Another thing that caught her eye was how each wall separated by a column had a porthole. On paper, it was only natural that a room full of children would have windows, so the space could be bathed in natural light. What wasn’t so natural, however, was how the landscape seemed to change from one porthole to the next. Okay, she hadn’t been on Oma for long, but she would have sensed the lack of vegetation typical from an honest-to-the-gods desert.

Once again, Baltazar’s warm voice broke her out of her musings, “Kids, Lady Amalia here is a Divine Doll. Much like we descend from the Great Goddess Eliatrope, she was created by this world’s god of nature, Sadida. She is here as our guest, so Baltazar hopes you will make her feel welcomed.”

The dragon’s words caused a small gasp to leave her lips. Of course, the children! She had been so busy observing the interior of the room she had completely overlooked to get a good look at Yugo’s youngest subjects.

What she found was so adorable Amalia had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from squealing loud enough to shatter their weird-looking windows.

Staring back at her, awe in their eyes, were dozens of little children, boys and girls, of all ages. From a distance, she could make out the similarities between them, and was momentarily taken aback by how much they all looked like Yugo. Technically, that shouldn’t have been surprising, as her father had once explained to her that a god's followers would all inherit some key characteristics from them, making their people look somewhat homogeneous. However, seeing as the Eliatrope members of the Council all had very distinctive features, such as slightly different hair colours, she had not been prepared to come face to face with a group of children all sporting Yugo’s exact same shade of dirty blond hair, slightly tanned skin, and dark brown eyes.

Then, there was their clothing. While the Eliatrope King always wore his blue battlesuit and cloak, the Eliatrope children all wore much more appropriate outfits for their age. Shirts, pants, dresses, skirts… And yet, wherever she looked, all she could see were large, eared hats whose colour matched the rest of their clothes. Unlike the members of the Council and their varied colour scheme, most kids wore yellow or a light orange, though they were a few exceptions wearing green, blue, or even white, too.

Which was another surprise in itself since the only other Eliatropes Amalia had come in contact with besides Yugo and the Council members had been the elite guards and servants working inside the palace. And they all wore light purple robes that covered the entirety of their bodies except for their eyes.

As she met the little ones’ awestruck expressions with one of her own and a small smile, Amalia realised with a start this was her first time ever seeing children. A warm sensation spread over her chest; they were simply precious.

“Hi, there.” She finally said, offering the kids a small, friendly wave.

And with that simple gesture, chaos ensued.

In what felt like a split-second, the doll had dozens of children surrounding her, looking up at her with starry-eyed expressions. Looking back and forth between all of them, Amalia felt like her head was about to explode with the cacophony of sounds assaulting her ears.

“She’s so pretty!”

“Why is your hair green?”

“Is it true what the adults say? You’re really here to marry King Yugo?”

“Are you really a doll? You don’t look like a doll.”

“Do you really not know anything about us?”

“Can you do any cool Sadida tricks?”

“Oh, yes! Please, do something cool, like-like, growing a huge tree from the ground!”

As the Divine Doll was being bombarded with questions, the uneasy smile on her face doing nothing to hide how overwhelmed she felt, Baltazar and Glip were watching the scene. But while the beige dragon was staring at it fondly, the Wakfung master had his arms over his chest and a surly look on his face.

“Look at that,” He scoffed. “Not even five minutes in and she’s already driven our kids crazy! I knew it was a bad idea to let her in…”

Baltazar just rolled his eyes. “Please, Glip, they’re children. Baltazar has seen them lose focus on class because they saw a bird through one of the portals. How did you expect them to react at the sight of the Divine Doll everyone’s been talking about?”

“I maintain her presence is only going to be a huge distraction for the children and a waste of time for us.”

Knowing it would take his brother a while before he finally let go of his reservations about Amalia, Baltazar simply walked back to their lectern. Though, to be completely honest, it was just a plain old rock gorged in wakfu where Glip liked to stand above their students as he taught the lesson. The shortest Eliatrope liked to claim it was so all their students could see him without having to worry about the tallest ones getting in the shorter ones’ way, but they all knew better. They just chose not to comment on it.

Taking pity on the poor divine creature attending their class that day, the dragon cleared his throat. “Very well, children. Baltazar knows you are all very excited to meet Lady Amalia, and she will love to answer all your questions but first, today’s lesson.”

At the sound of their disappointed whimpers and whines, he sent his Eliatrope twin a look, reminding him of his cue. “Alright, alright, settle down! You can’t be playing all the time! If we could, this wouldn’t be a class but a playground. Come on, around us!”

At Glip’s instructions, the kids looked more than a little dejected, and Amalia’s eyes widened at the sight of the ears on their hats drooping. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on that, for she suddenly found herself being dragged to the centre of the room by a little hand. Looking down in surprise, she came face to face with a smiling Eliatrope girl that wore her hair in pigtails under an orange hat.

“C’mon, m’Lady. You can sit with me.” She said as she led the doll to the centre of the room, where the other children were already beginning to sit down around their teachers.

“Oh! Uh, thank you, um…”

“My name is Lori.” She giggled cutely as she finally took her place, causing Amalia to smile as she followed suit.

“Nice to meet you, Lori—.”

“Don’t go thinking that just because you’re a guest you’re exempt from the classroom rules, you hear me?” Glip’s gruff, chiding voice interrupted her. Looking up at him, she couldn’t help but gulp at the glare he was sending her way. “In case you already forgot, the very first rule is that you cannot talk in class until you are given permission. And that’s only after you’ve raised your hand for said permission. Are we clear?”

Amalia didn’t know what to feel. Not because he was scolding her for breaking a rule, or anything like that. He was right in that sense; just because she was a guest, that didn’t mean she was above following the rules like everyone else. No. What caught her eye was the fact that, technically, Lori had broken that rule too, yet he was only reprimanding her. With a shake of her head, she chose to let it go. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who got mad because a child wasn’t being yelled at instead of her.

That was just wrong on so many levels.

“Yes, sir.” She ended up saying instead, though a part of herself couldn’t help but pray to Sadida she hadn’t made the same mistake.

Glip just regarded her with an unreadable expression, his hold on his cane tightening. Thankfully, no, she didn’t make the same mistake.

“The appropriate title is Master Glip.”

She just made another one.

And with that, Glip turned around, stuck his cane between one of the wakfu-filled cracks going up and down the large stone in the middle of the room and levered himself up to the top in one swift motion, landing on his feet even as he somersaulted in the air.

Amalia’s jaw hit the floor. Although she was quick to shut her mouth, seeing as the children around her remained unperturbed by the Primordial Eliatrope’s display. Maybe that was a common occurrence?

Back to Glip, now that he was up on his rock, he stomped his cane against it three times to ensure he had everyone’s attention. Once everyone’s eyes were fixed on him—even the doll’s—, he explained in a booming voice:

“For those of you who don’t know,” he sent the Divine Doll a condescending look, “today’s lesson will be mixed. The first half will be spent studying Eliatrope History with Baltazar, while we will be working on the katas we learned last time after practicing on our own for a bit during the second half. Are there any questions?”

The Wakfung master had to suppress the urge to groan in exasperation when he saw the doll’s hand raised. If it weren’t for Baltazar flashing him a warning glare, he would have pretended not to see and continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened.

“Yes?” He pointed at her with his cane, derision laced with his tone despite his best efforts.

“Um, sorry, but what’s a kata?” Amalia asked a little sheepishly, tucking a strand of her forest-green hair behind her ear when the children around her giggled at her question. Funny how she was being laughed at and that still felt a lot less judgemental than how Glip was treating her.

His only response was a smirk. “You’ll see.” Then, out of nowhere, he clasped his hands as he gestured to his dragon twin. “The floor’s all yours, Baltazar.”

For his part, Baltazar’s expression was rather cold even as he stared back at his brother. He would definitely have a word with him over his treatment of Amalia after class was over. But first:

“Thank you, Glip.” Even his tone was icy as he addressed his twin. Then, it softened considerably as he focused back on the kids. “Today’s a very special day, children. Since this is Lady Amalia’s first day, how about we show her how much we’ve learned so far? Any volunteers to share our last lesson?”

It didn’t take long for the reaction he had been dreading to be sparked. As soon as those words left his mouth, all children present seemed to shrink on themselves, the few of them that were closest to a bewildered Amalia scooted over to the Divine Doll as if she could offer them some cover from the terrible fate that was being asked to repeat a lesson aloud.

He had to count the fact that none of them had tried to create a portal to run away yet as a success.

He waited a few minutes, but eventually gave up with a sigh as none of the children could even look him in the eye. He understood between Yugo and Adamaï’s adventures and Glip’s teachings, their people’s history might not look as appealing, but it was still worth learning. Knowledge could open the door to so many new experiences and even help you perfect things you already knew, just as it helped you avoid making the same mistakes again. And Baltazar knew the children paid attention in his classes, if only they weren’t so afraid of speaking up.

“Looks like you’ll have to take it from the top again, Brother.” Glip sent him a compassionate look, knowing how much this meant to him.

“Baltazar would say so, yes.” With a tired smile, he opened up his mouth, ready to begin… Only to be interrupted by Amalia raising her hand yet again. Arching one bushy eyebrow, he asked, “Yes, Lady Amalia? Is everything alright? Forgive Baltazar, but he cannot understand how you can have a question already since he has yet to say a word.”

Slowly, Amalia lowered her hand and brought it to her chest, a small blush colouring her cheeks. “Oh! Um, no. I mean, it’s not exactly a question, but… more of a request, actually?”

The twins exchanged confused glances. “A request?”

“This isn’t a ball where you can just ask the band to play a song, you know?” Glip quipped harshly, eyes narrowed on the doll.

“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that!” Amalia immediately tried to defend herself, shaking her hands in front of her body.

“Then what is it you’re… requesting?” Baltazar asked again after a pause.

“I was just wondering, since you intend to review everything for my sake—which you have my sincerest thanks for—, if you could start with the construction of the Zenith?”

The twins’ eyes widened like saucers at her words. And they weren’t the only ones, for the kids had all turned to stare at Amalia, their surprise evident on their faces. Meanwhile, all sorts of alarms went off in Glip’s mind as he readied himself to attack if need be. “How do you know about that?” He questioned, his tone dangerously low.

Her blush deepened. Her hands clutching at the fabric of her pants nervously, she finally admitted. “Well, the thing is… I just never got to hear the whole story.”

Wait, what?

“What do you mean?” It was Baltazar who asked, his tone as kind as ever, albeit cautious.

“I’ve been listening to your classes for a while now, and I’ve always been enchanted by the way you retell everything that happened.” She confessed, her voice growing in confidence the more she spoke. Soon, even her gestures and expressions were becoming more animated. “It’s incredible! The way you can just… transport me to another world! It feels like I’m there! Especially when the both of you teach the lesson. It’s just… just… amazing.”

Glip’s eyebrows shot up at that, pleasantly surprised despite himself. That had to be the highest praise they’d received in a while, and to think it came from the Divine Doll… At the thought of her, the Wakfung master shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t grow soft now, not after what she’d just said.

“But why do you want to learn about the Zenith in specific?”

She grew embarrassed again, her fingers fidgeting on her lap. “Because I never got to hear the full story. I know certain things, but not everything.”

“Wait!” This time, the three adults had their attention drawn to the children. It had been Jeré, one of the oldest ones whose bangs covered his eyes, who spoke. “You’ve never heard the full story?” His jaw dropped when all Amalia could do was shake her head. “But it’s so awesome!”

“Do you really don’t know about it?” Another kid, a little girl named Jamille, pressed on, turning around to face the doll properly.

Amalia smiled kindly at them. “I know some things. Like how Chibi and Grougaloragran are the Eliatropes’ greatest inventors and the only thing they hadn’t been able to master yet was how to go beyond your world─something not even your portals could achieve.”

The first time she heard the story, Amalia’s curiosity had been picked once again by the mention of their world. She still wasn’t fully aware of what they meant by that or why they would be in the World of Twelve if they already had a home of their own, but she chose to keep that bit for later. Right now, she was far too enchanted by the children’s awed grins.

“Yes, that’s right!” Jeré nodded enthusiastically. “They kept researching for decades, but they just couldn’t get it right!”

“For the longest time, they tried creating a special kind of portal that would lead us away from our world, but that plan failed because our portals can’t work unless we’re close enough to our destination or we at least know it by heart.” A girl with fluffy bangs added.

“And-and, and no one knowed what was outside of home, so it didn’t work.” Amalia almost died when what looked to be the youngest kid present shily spoke next. He was so cute! With his little wabbit onesie and those puffy cheeks she so desperately wanted to pinch!

Once her cuteness-induced high was under control, however, their words registered in her mind. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape at the realisation that that had been the reason Yugo hadn’t been able to teleport them directly to the beach when they went out. Now she felt a little bad for snapping at him and Adamaï, but it was a little hard being unfailingly nice after throwing your stomach’s contents on a poor, unsuspecting bush!

She was brought back to the class when another kid continued on with the tale. “In the end, they realised what they needed wasn’t for us to be able to create that kind of portal, but to be able to leave. Period!”

“So they decided to build this huge and super cool machine where we would all fit and we could use to travel around the Krozmos!” Another kid noted.

Little by little, the rest of the class grew in confidence too. All of them taking turns to tell everything they knew to the Sadida Doll, who hanged onto every word with rapt attention.

As this was all taking place, Baltazar and Glip could only look on, astonished, their mouths millimetres away from touching the floor. And while the dragon’s shocked expression eventually settled into an extremely pleased smile, Glip had yet to recover. It was simply unbelievable! For some reason, the doll had single-handedly managed to encourage the kids to repeat their lessons aloud, a feat that took considerable effort from him and Baltazar to achieve. And yet, there she was, listening intently as their students bombarded her with information.

Somehow, it was even more surprising to find out the doll had indeed been paying attention to the lesson whenever it was that she eavesdropped on them. Whenever the children got a fact wrong, if it just so happened she had been able to listen to that particular part of the story, she would kindly correct them in a way that wouldn’t make them feel bad about it.

Glip… really didn’t know what to think.

Eventually, he was snapped out of his trance by Lori finishing off the story by throwing her hands up in the air triumphantly, her classmates mimicking her actions with matching enthusiasm. In response, the doll simply clapped with a warm smile on her face.

“Thank you so much, you guys. I’m learning so much already!” She gently rubbed the heads of the two kids closest to her, Lori and a little boy whose name she didn’t know. She couldn’t help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the way they made sure their hats remained in place even after her caresses. “And it’s plain to see you know your stuff too!”

At the little, playful wink she sent them, the Eliatrope children couldn't help the beaming smiles from forming on their faces, basking in the beautiful doll’s praise. Boy, their king sure was lucky to have such a cool girlfriend!

Chuckling fondly at the scene—and allowing a supremely satisfied smirk to curl at his lips at the sight of his discombobulated brother—, Baltazar cleared his throat to bring everyone’s attention back at him. “Very well, children. Lady Amalia is right; you sure know a lot! Balthazar is very proud of you all. But, as we all know, just like there’s always something new to be learned, it is also good to remember what we already know so we never forget. Which is why Baltazar will be telling you about our people’s origins.”

Despite that being a story they all knew by heart, it was still one of the children’s favourites, so they all eagerly leaned in to better listen to what the dragon had to say. Amalia in particular was awestruck at the revelation. She had been wondering exactly the same thing since practically her birth. She really didn’t know much, just that the Eliatropes descended from the Great Goddess Eliatrope so they clearly didn’t worship any of the gods her father was a member of. But she had no idea how they ever came to be or why their goddess wasn’t a part of the Twelvians’ pantheon. So, much like the children, she leaned in, her head resting on her propped up arms, ready to learn.

Normally, Glip would have argued sharing that particular story around the Divine Doll would have been foolish, as it would have compromised some very delicate information regarding their people. But when he and Baltazar had been prepping the lesson before class, the two twins actually discussed the subject at length. While the Eliatrope had been firmly against it at first, his dragon brother eventually managed to convince him by raising the very valid point that Amalia had been born in Inglorium, surrounded by this world’s gods. She was most likely already aware of their origin! So he acquiesced and relented, allowing Baltazar to do as he pleased.

If anything, maybe hearing their version of the story would be enough to convince the doll not to sell them out to her nature-loving father and his friends. It was unlikely, but for once Glip dared to hope.

“Long, long ago,” Baltazar began, his incredibly talented storyteller voice enrapturing his students with just a few words. “There was nothing. Everything was darkness. Things such as planets, the concept of time, or the very Krozmos itself didn’t exist. In fact, the only things that did exist were two very different essences: wakfu, the source of all life; and stasis, the energy of destruction.

“Two divine beings represented these energies; the Great Goddess Eliatrope was the source of all wakfu, whereas the Great Dragon was the source of all stasis. These two opposite forces, being the only living creatures in the whole wide universe, fell in love. Guided by their feelings, they were joined in a dance from which the Krozmos was born, and with it, life could thrive before parting from the material world, thus continuing the two lovers’ dance—existence became a balance between life and death.”

Amalia found herself completely captivated by the dragon’s tale. She remembered her father briefly mentioning the existence of stasis and how it was opposite from wakfu, which was crucial for the survival of their people, even if he didn’t have the time to dwell much on that; but she was sure he had never mentioned the Great Dragon, let alone how the Krozmos came to be thanks to him and the Eliatrope Goddess. She brought her legs close to her chest, looking forward to knowing what happened next.

As he retold the events that took place aeons ago, Baltazar paced around the room at a leisurely stride. His little wings fluttered in delight at the sight of his fascinated class, even Amalia looked positively enchanted by his tale. And the way even the most unruly kids had yet to misbehave, sneaking discreet glances the doll’s way, made him appreciate having her in his class.

Apparently, she was a good influence on the kids.

“But that is not all that they did.” He shook his head, as if the mere idea was ludicrous. “Shortly after they created the Krozmos, the two lovers found each other once more. Much like the first time, they were joined in a dance, only this time they created life on a considerably smaller, but not any less magnificent scale.” Abruptly, he stopped pacing. He sat down on the floor as he regarded the children all seriously, before a small smirk graced his features. “Tell me, children, what did they create this time?”

The response was immediate. All students present but Amalia—who could only look around in surprise—exclaimed in perfect unison, “They created the six Dofus Eliatropes!”

“That’s right.” Baltazar chuckled, satisfied. “And from each Dofus a set of twins was born. Each of them were granted a special gift they were meant to use for the sake of the people they would lead. Hence, the Council of Six, composed of the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragon siblings was born!”

Amalia’s surprised gasp was drowned out by the sound of the children cheering and applauding, clearly delighted with the story. But as the kids celebrated and Baltazar went on about how it was their duty as their leaders to look out for their people in each reincarnation—wait, so they were that kind of demigods, too?! But the only demigods she knew could reincarnate were Ecaflip’s children, and even they only had nine lives… She would have to store that information away for later, lest her head would explode—, Amalia’s brain clocked in on what he’d said about him and his siblings.

Being a demigoddess herself, Amalia was aware of the fact that her divine parentage made her special, moreover, many would agree her case in specific made her even more exceptional. After all, unlike the other gods, who needed to mate with mortal partners to bear offspring, she and her sisters had been conceived single-handedly by Sadida himself. The Leafy God had created them out of practically nothing, using a fragment of his supreme power to bring each and everyone of his daughters to life. Therefore, by virtue of not possessing mortal blood, they were almost as godly as any other deity, hence why they were allowed in Inglorium.

At least, that was what her father and sisters told her.

And yet, Yugo and his siblings and their origins managed to be even more staggering. Whereas Sadida’s Dolls had been created by the god of nature’s sole intervention, the Eliatropes had been born from the union of their patron goddess and the Great Dragon. They were descended from two gods!

Wait, if that was the case, could they even be considered demigods? She wondered idly.

Even as Amalia struggled trying to understand what it all meant, a wayward thought materialised in her brain, effectively taking her mind off such matters as she made a vital connection. That at least explained how it was possible that each set of twins hatching from their respective Dofus comprised an Eliatrope child and a dragon.

A part of the doll was rather relieved to be able to put that mystery to rest.

Before she could dwell on the matter any longer, however, the sound of Glip stomping his cane against the floor drew everyone’s attention back to him. “Well, that concludes today’s history lesson, children. Thank Master Baltazar for everything and go over the training grounds. Today’s training session is going to be intense.”

...................................................................................................................

Though confused at first by the Eliatrope teacher’s instructions, much like she’d done at the beginning of Baltazar’s lesson, Amalia decided to follow the children’s lead. Letting herself be dragged by Lori as she and the other kids resumed their questioning of her—and struggling slightly to keep up—, the green-haired beauty stood slack-jawed upon being led to the training grounds.

Suddenly all that equipment and safety nets she’d seen when she entered the classroom made a lot more sense.

Her awe only grew as Glip instructed the kids on what they’d be doing that day and divided them in groups, pointing at the areas each group would train at with his cane right before telling the children to disperse. As she remained where she was, glued to her spot, the doll’s big brown eyes kept darting back and forth between the little ones. Some of them were trying to execute a complicated set of movements, their efforts focused on combining traditional hand-to-hand combat with the use of their wakfu. Another group consisting of the youngsters were trying to conjure up portals, their little hands glowing blue but not achieving much else. And finally, the group little Lori belonged to was up high in the ceiling, using their portals to move from one place to another and landing safely on the net hanging over her head whenever they failed. If she had to guess, Amalia would say these groups were actually skill levels, going from beginners, intermediate level, and advanced level.

She met Lori’s shy wave from up above with one of her own and smiled kindly up at her. Even so, despite how interesting this all was, Amalia couldn’t help but feel a little out of place just standing there with nothing to do.

Looking to her side, she found Glip watching his students with a careful eye, his gaze never leaving them. Despite being a huge grump and more than a little condescending, Amalia had to admit he was at least a caring and responsible teacher. Even if that aspect of his personality was directed at anyone but her.

Mustering up all her courage by taking one deep breath, the Divine Doll made her way over to him, careful not to ruin his concentration as he kept an eye on the children. Every now and then he would yell some kind of instruction or piece of advice for them to follow, and Amalia was proud to say she only flinched slightly each time that startled her.

Hiding her hands behind her back as a clear sign of her nervousness, she tried to say, “Um…Master Glip?”

He didn’t even look at her, just grunted, “What is it?”

“Uh, well, I was just wondering… Is this supposed to be Wakfung?” She gestured at the training session taking place.

Even though he had yet to look her way, Glip was starting to regret not sending the doll away when his part of the lesson started and he had the chance. Ironically, he had been so distracted keeping an eye on her and the chaos her presence could ensue, he had forgotten all about her by the time it was his turn to take the reins. Well, thankfully, it wasn’t like she’d be able to gather much intel from watching the kids’ training session. Neither of them were ready yet to try out for becoming guards-in-training, which meant their technique had yet to be fully polished. She would not be able to do much harm with non-perfected moves.

That didn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful, however. “You could say that, yes.” At first, his voice remained impassive, until he grew impatient. “What about it?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” She trailed off, almost too afraid to ask.

“Well…?” The Eliatrope urged her, still not looking at her.

“I suppose I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She finally admitted.

“What you’re supposed to do? Whatever does that mean?”

Amalia shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, aren’t I here to learn? I’m not really sure what to do when my magic doesn’t work like yours.” As she said that, her eyes trailed back up to Lori. She had noticed how she hadn’t been as eager to jump through portals like her classmates, and she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the sight. “Is there a way I can learn Wakfung without… you know… being an Eliatrope?”

That made him look back at her in surprise, his eyes wide like saucers. However, that was nothing compared to the shiver that ran down her spine when he began to laugh, the sound effectively causing most children to stop doing their respective activities to watch the scene. Even Baltazar looked down at his twin in surprise right before exchanging slightly alarmed glances with Amalia.

After what felt like an awkwardly long amount of time, Glip finally quieted down. Wiping a tear off his eye, he simply said, “No, there is not.” And then he turned back around to stare at the children, his abrupt demeanour immediately making them return to training.

For a while, all Amalia could do was blink, speechless. It took her a bit before she finally regained the ability to speak, “W-what do you mean? Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m positive. You see, there is no Wakfung without wakfu.”

“But I have wakfu.” She insisted, her brow furrowed at his refusal. “See?” She extended her palms facing the ceiling, a faint green light enveloping her hands as she called forth her father’s divine gift without actually manifesting it.

“You have Sadida magic, not Eliatrope magic.” Glip pointed out without missing a beat. “Sure, you might be able to make flowers grow and to sprout some vines, but you are incapable of creating portals or wielding wakfu in its purest form. Therefore, I don’t see the point in teaching you.”

“Glip!” Baltazar exclaimed, scandalised at his twin’s callousness. He knew better than anyone that his brother tended to be blunt and was never one to sugarcoat things, but to think he’d be this disrespectful towards Lady Amalia! It was imperative he defused the situation. “Please, forgive Baltazar’s brother, my Lady. He did not mean to be so rude, it is simply that we do not know how to adapt ourselves to your unique abilities.”

Seeing as Baltazar’s words made perfect sense, Amalia was about to reassure the beige dragon everything was alright when Glip cut in, although his words felt like they were actually cutting through her.

“Oh, don’t grovel like that, Baltazar! Have some dignity!” Glip loudly complained, swirling around to face his brother with a reproachful look. “She isn’t one of us, and she will never be, no matter how much she tries to integrate herself with us by learning our culture or our history! She is not an Eliatrope and therefore it would be extremely foolish to teach her Wakfung, and you know this!”

Even if Amalia already felt like she’d been slapped by his harsh words, she couldn’t help but gasp when the shortest Eliatrope settled the full fire of his fury on her, making her curl around herself subconsciously in fear. “There is simply no way I will ever make it easier for an outsider to hurt my people.”

His words were dripping with venom and Amalia ingested every single drop. Her heart fell to her stomach, and she could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. What was worse, even in her numb state, she could discern how the entire room had grown eerily quiet, the children’s attention drawn to them by the commotion.

Was it true? Didn’t the Eliatrope trust her? Was that the reason for Glip and Efrim’s animosity, for the servants' cordial yet distant treatment of her? Deep down, she knew they certainly hadn’t been expecting her, that was something she became aware of as soon as she arrived at Oma Island, but to think they would actually hold such vitriol for her… Even as she stood there, frozen in shock as Baltazar flashed a seething glare his brother’s way while the latter refused to even meet his eye, the Sadida Doll couldn’t help but wrack her brain for answers. Tried as she might, she just couldn’t come up with anything in specific she might have done to earn their scorn. As she kept on searching, a chilling thought assaulted her.

Was that the reason why Yugo…?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a bloodcurdling sound; a shrill, frightened scream.

“Lori!” One of the children shrieked, pointing up at her.

With a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest, Amalia swivelled her head to the origin of the scream. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Lori’s portal malfunctioning at the last second and her falling. Normally, the little girl should have been perfectly fine, the safety net underneath her breaking her fall and preventing any disasters, but the doll couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth as Lori collided against the area where she’d noticed before the trope was worn out. As the kid collided against it, she sent a quick prayer to Sadida, begging him for the net to hold on, but alas, no such luck.

The ropes gave in under Lori’s weight, sending the little girl plummeting to the ground.

Overcome by a protective instinct she didn’t know she possessed, so overwhelmed by the surge of power coursing through her veins she only vaguely registered a flash of blue light from the corner of her eye, Amalia didn’t hesitate to act. Thinking fast, she threw her arm out, her palm outstretched, a portion of the floor in front of her—she sent a quick thank you to her father for their classroom being at ground level— glowing green for a split-second before a large vine shot forth and towards the terrified child.

At staggering speed, the thick plant reached just below Lori, softening her fall. Then, as soon as she made contact with it, the vine twisted and turned, creating spirals that acted as a slide and safely deposited Lori on the ground under everyone’s astonished and relieved gazes.

As soon as Lori’s feet made contact with the ground, she broke down crying. Seeing Amalia’s open arms, she threw herself at the Divine Doll, clutching onto her like a lifeline. “I-I-I…” She hiccuped at first, before it all became too much and she eventually wailed, “I was so scared!”

As she held the crying girl in her arms, Amalia made soothing noises in an attempt to calm her down. “There, there. It’s okay, Lori. You’re safe now. You’re safe now.”

While Amalia was busy trying to console the poor kid, her classmates surrounding the two and dissolving into both praises for the doll and words of encouragement for Lori, the two teachers watched the scene. In Glip’s case, who had been about to reach the girl before Amalia’s vine went ahead, his expression reflected the many mixed feelings going on in his mind.

By his side, Baltazar sighed. “Baltazar understands we must be careful not to underestimate her and what she’s capable of, but he believes in doing so we are also doing just that.”

“What do you mean?” Glip asked, his voice as small as his height, for once.

“You believe her undeserving of trust, and yet, she did not hesitate to save Lori. A truly heinous creature with no concern for anyone but their own would not do such a thing.” Then, he gestured to the crowd of children surrounding the crying girl and the doll with his tail. “Children are unexpectedly good at telling who is worthy of trust and who isn’t. And our little ones have been enchanted by her from the moment she walked through the door.”

Looking back and forth between his brother and the doll, Glip found himself at a loss. His voice was almost desperate when he begged the dragon for answers. “Baltazar, you’ve been much more willing to trust her than me since the beginning, but… why? What do you see in her that makes her worthy in your eyes?”

In response, Baltazar simply smiled kindly, the corner of his eyes wrinkling at the action. “Baltazar is a dragon.” He replied simply. “Much like you told him Adamaï did, Baltazar stared into her wakfu.” Leaning closer to the Eliatrope, he placed his tail on his shoulder. “Baltazar cannot speak for the twelve gods and their true intentions, but Lady Amalia holds no ill intent in her heart. She is far too pure for that.”

And with that, the dragon went over to join his class in looking after Lori to make sure the little one was okay, leaving the Wakfung master alone with his thoughts.

.......................................................................................................................

After that scare, the two teachers thought it best to dismiss the class early. There would be no katas that day, after all. Everyone, especially Lori, was far too rattled by the events to continue as if nothing had happened. Since it was still a little too early for the kids’ parents to pick them up, they remained inside the classroom as they often did whenever class ended sooner than expected. However, while they would normally be playing around until it was time to go, this time the children remained huddled around Amalia as she gently and soothingly caressed a still recovering Lori, who remained glued to the doll’s front, hugging her tightly like her life depended on it. They spent the rest of the time like that, with the children talking to Amalia and hanging onto her every word like she had just lowered the moon for them.

Finally, it was time to say goodbye for the day when the kids’ parents arrived. While they had all been understandably surprised at the sight of the Divine Doll surrounded by their children—and a few parents had had to not-so-subtly nudge their partners to react when they stared, or more like ogled, at the forest beauty for a tad too long—, it was nothing compared to their reactions upon learning what had happened.

Lori’s parents in particular spent a good time thanking a slightly overwhelmed Amalia profusely for saving their daughter as soon as the latter was done with her retelling, having wasted no time in informing her parents of her little brush with death and the super cool plant Lady Amalia had used to rescue her just in time.

Once every kid had left the room with their parents, waving Amalia goodbye—a gesture she returned wholeheartedly—, she was about to leave as well when Baltazar’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Lady Amalia. A word, please?”

“Of course, Master Baltazar. Is anything the matter?”

“Not at all, my Lady. In fact, it is Baltazar’s brother who wishes to speak with you.” Right after he said that, he nudged his Eliatrope twin forward, and Amalia immediately braced herself for the worst.

“In light of recent events…” The Eliatrope began uneasily. After a pregnant pause, trying in vain to organise his thoughts, Glip finally gave in with a sigh. “I have come to realise I’ve been unfair to you. I judged you far too quickly and treated you according to my prejudices rather than who you really are. And for that, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies, my Lady.”

Genuine shame coloured Glip’s features even as he bowed down deeply in front of the Sadida Doll, who could only blink, taken aback. However, soon enough, her confusion gave way to a warm smile, touched by the gesture.

“I gladly accept your apologies, Master Glip.” She told him, bringing a hand to her chest. “Please, accept mine as well. I’m aware my actions might have offended you, even if it was the furthest thing from my intention.”

“Think nothing of it.” He nodded. Then, he cleared his throat and he held his cane a little bit tighter for (moral) support. “Um, I… Well.” He coughed. “Even if I have yet to decide whether it’d be possible to teach you Wakfung, given your Sadida nature, seeing as you have shown genuine interest in our people’s way, we…” Another pause, this time punctuated by deliverance. “I would be honoured to see you in class from now on, Lady Amalia.”

If it was even possible, Amalia’s smile only stretched wider. “The honour would be all mine, Master Glip.”

And as everyone made it back to their respective homes after such a hectic day, there was one topic that kept being discussed at the Eliatrope children’s tables during dinner. They couldn’t wait until King Yugo took Lady Amalia as his queen.

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tabbytabbytabby · 3 days

Text

No walls to hide behind

Word Count: 1,160 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: 9-1-1

Relationship: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard

Tags: Established Relationship, Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Future Fic, Nightmares, Trauma, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard Needs A Hug, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Light Angst

Summary: When Buck gets a phone call from Tommy late one night, he worries.

Read on AO3

For the It's Quiet... Too Quiet space for @badthingshappenbingo. Card under the cut.

#bucktommy #buck x tommy #tevan #kinkley #bad things happen bingo #badthingshappenbingo #it's quuet... too quiet #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #911 fanfic #911 fic #my fanfiction #bucktommy fanfic #i should be sleeping #but here we are

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dylandotwhat · 2 days

Text

Ranboo's Day! This is our favorite genderman's origin story!!

This is for the newest chapter of: I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep ('Cause everything is never as it seems) !!

#my art #my fanfiction #ranboo #ranboo fanart #charlie slimecicle #Slimecicle #tommyinnit #mcyt #fanfic #fanfiction #the backrooms #video games

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octoberobserver · 22 hours

Text

Save The Last Dance For Me - Buddie Fic

Read on ao3 here

~*~

“I’m never drinking again.”

“Me neither.”

Buck groaned, cradling his head in the crook of his arm, a wide grin still spread across his face as he watched his sister and a little banged up but elated Chimney, have their first dance.

“They look happy,” Eddie murmured next to him, their shoulders brushing together as he took a large gulp of what must have been his fifth glass of water in the last hour.

It had been a…chaotic day, to say the least. From disastrous bachelor parties to losing the groom, to the same groom being in jeopardy all when he was supposed to marry the love of his life and the mother of his child, things seemed to keep going from bad to worse.

But with the help of their family and friends, they got there in the end. Maddie and Chim made their way back to one another and professed their love officially, all beautiful and legally binding.

Eddie got a lump in his throat as he watched his friend twirl his new bride, nudging Buck’s knee as he saw the tell-tale sheen in his gaze.

“You holdin’ up, okay?”

Buck nodded, turning those bright blue eyes to him.

A familiar warmth spread in Eddie’s chest at the sight. Buck had seemed…lighter these last couple of weeks. Ever since he came out to Eddie, and then the rest of the 118, it was as if a weight he hadn’t realized he’d had around him suddenly lifted, and Eddie, honestly, couldn’t be happier for his best friend.

“Yeah, I’m good. Happy it all worked out. They deserve it. Especially after everything they’ve been through.”

Eddie hummed in agreement, and the two of them went back to watching the couple, a companionable silence falling between them.

“You think you’ll ever do it again?”

He whirled around to find Buck’s stare tracing the side of his face, looking pensive.

“Dance?” he asked, being deliberately obtuse to try and avoid answering.

Buck rolled his eyes, knocking their shoulders together.

“Get married.”

Something sharp twisted in Eddie’s gut at that. His heart began to pick up speed.

“U-Uh…”

Fuck.

Ever since his talk with Bobby, he had asked himself that exact question. And a couple of more terrifying questions that he still didn’t have the answers to.

Their eyes locked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe? If…if I was with the right person.”

Buck held his gaze, looking as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

“Evan?”

They turned towards the sudden voice behind them.

“Tommy!” Buck exclaimed excitedly, leaping out of his seat and enveloping him in a hug.

Eddie regarded the two of them, realizing that this was the first time he was seeing them together now that they were together. He watched Tommy’s hand land on Buck’s hip, the other coming up to grip his shoulder, squeezing it gently, his thumb sweeping over his collarbone.

Something painful suddenly jolted again in Eddie’s stomach, making him frown in confusion. He hurried to clear his expression as Tommy began to speak.

“You look…” he trailed off, taking in Buck’s dishevelled ‘Crockett’ outfit (Eddie still insisted that he was Tubbs, but whatever), “like you had an interesting night.”

Interesting sure was one way to describe it.

As if Buck was reflecting on just how interesting the night had been, he gave a half-shrug and sheepish grin.

“Not as interesting as you saving the day by rescuing Chimney in your chopper,” he quipped, nudging his shoulder as Tommy lowered his head almost bashfully.

“I don’t know, Buckley. Seein’ you in a pastel suit, even if it is a little dirty, is pretty high up there.”

Oh, God. They’re flirting.

Not that Eddie cared, of course. He was a good friend, an ally. He wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, of course not. He just couldn’t exactly explain the almost nauseated feeling in his gut at the moment. It was probably just something he ate or, you know, the gallons of alcohol he had consumed last night.

“Hey, Eddie.”

His head shot up to meet Tommy’s eye, and he quickly schooled his face into something more pleasant.

“Hey, man,” he raised from his seat to shake his hand, smacking him on the back in a half hug.

Tommy quirked an eyebrow at him, gaze trailing up and down.

“Tubbs?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

Eddie shook his head.

“I’m Crockett, he’s Tubbs, people just refuse to acknowledge it.”

Tommy laughed as Buck let out a groan.

“I’m more like Don Johnson, Eds. Accept it.”

“You didn’t even know who Don Johnson was until I told you,” he shot back. “Just because you insisted on binge-watching Miami Vice all week, does not mean you get to—”

“I wanted to stay on theme,” Buck interjected. “Chimney wanted the '80s, so he got the ‘80s. I wanted to be authentic to the character. Like, what’s it called…method acting?”

“Uh-huh. Okay, Daniel Day-Lewis.”

He was hyperaware of Tommy staring between them, watching their exchange with something unreadable on his face, and quickly cleared his throat.

“You want a beer, Tommy? I don’t think you’ll need your wallet tonight after getting the groom back to where he belongs.”

The three of them watched Chim dip Maddie, her peels of laughter audible over the music.

“Hey, you guys found him. I just drove. Or…flew,” Tommy chuckled as they all walked along the edge of the dancefloor, towards the bar.

“So, do I get to ask what happened to you?” he gestured to Eddie’s bare chest under his suit jacket.

Buck failed to stifle a snort.

“Little…karaoke mishap,” Eddie hurried to say as if that explained anything.

Tommy merely grinned, accepting the beer handed to him with an appreciative nod.

Eddie took that opportunity to glance back onto the dancefloor, noticing that Maddie was now waving frantically at them.

“Think you’re being summoned, Buck.”

Like an overexcited puppy, Buck bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Oh, yeah! Time for the brother-sister dance!”

Eddie and Tommy levelled him with twin looks of confusion as he flushed, babbling.

“Maddie insisted on a brother-sister dance instead of a father-daughter dance. Says it’ll bring her better luck this time around.”

With that, Buck smacked a quick kiss on Tommy’s cheek that had Eddie’s mouth twisting for some reason. He then clapped him on the shoulder and bounded across the room in a flash, taking Maddie’s hand as Chim took Hen’s.

Eddie watched the siblings and pseudo-siblings dance for a moment, feeling a gentle smile replace whatever was on his face at how happy they all looked.

“So. Evan told you we were dating.”

He was spat out of his reverie by Tommy’s words and tried not to let himself visibly react.

“Uh, yeah. He did. I’m happy for him. You too.”

He watched from the corner of his eye as Tommy shifted from one foot to the other, and suddenly worried that he had somehow said the wrong thing.

“Good. I’m glad. You’re his best friend, Eddie. He needs you.”

He could hear a slight tone colouring those words, but he couldn’t figure out what it was, so instead, he commented on something that had been plaguing him for a while now.

“You call him Evan.”

There was a beat where Tommy sipped his beer, gaze tailing Buck from across the room before he replied.

“You don’t.”

It was a non-answer to a non-question.

Eddie wanted to tell him that Buck didn’t really like being called Evan. That the only people who called him that were Maddie occasionally and his parents, with whom he had a complicated relationship. He wanted to tell him that Buck preferred ‘Buck’ because it was who he was now. Who he had become over the last seven years, away from his childhood home, his parents, and the ghosts that haunted him.

But he didn’t.

Because maybe Buck liked it when Tommy called him Evan. Maybe he was the exception. And that was none of Eddie’s business.

“No, I don’t. Not often. And usually only when I really need him to hear me.”

Because, Evan…you act like you’re expendable. But you’re wrong.

Tommy hummed, taking another sip.

“Does it bother you?”

That dragged his eyes off his friend’s cheerful face, meeting Tommy’s gaze, and despite what he had just been thinking, he heard himself reply:

“Why would you calling Buck ‘Evan’ bother me?”

Something weighty passed between them as if Tommy silently asked him something he had no idea how to answer.

“Not that,” he murmured, his focus zeroing back on Buck. “Does it bother you that we’re seeing each other?”

Eddie’s mouth went dry. He took another large gulp of water, forcing down a cough.

“O-Of course it doesn’t bother me. Why would it bother me?”

He almost cringed at the note of hysteria in his voice.

Tommy nudged him.

“Relax, Eddie. I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. I just meant that I know how close you and Evan are, and how important he is in Chris’ life. I just wanna let you know that I don’t want what me and Buck might have come between that, man. And I’d get it if you were…concerned it would.”

Eddie wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that, so he merely nudged his shoulder back.

“S’all good. Yeah, Buck is my best friend. But you’re my friend too, Tommy. I’m psyched you two are givin’ it a shot.”

He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t meet his eye when he said that. Instead, he found himself staring back out on the dancefloor just in time to see Buck and Maddie do a stumbly double twirl, their identical grins on full display, Buck’s eyes glinting bright against the disco lights.

Eddie’s stomach did another random flip that made him glad he didn’t risk the appetisers earlier.

Seriously never drinking again.

“He is a terrible dancer,” Tommy laughed at Buck’s antics as he tried and failed to rope Chim and Hen into some sort of dancing quartet.

“Oh yeah, the worst,” Eddie agreed with a chuckle. “But he tries. And although he does care what people think, sometimes a little too much, he doesn’t let that stop him. That’s what counts.”

He wasn’t just talking about Buck’s dancing, obviously, and judging by Tommy's completive hum, he understood that.

“Yeah, it does,” his voice was fond in a way that was all too familiar to Eddie when it came to Evan Buckley. “I wish I had been more like him when I first came out.”

He chanced a glance at him, tilting his head.

“What do you mean?”

Something almost sad crossed Tommy’s face.

“I mean, I was kinda an asshole about it at first, to be honest,” he shrugged, wistful. “I was dealing with a lot, the…performance of it all, you know? Locker talk and beers with the boys and Captain Gerard’s idea of what men should be. Convincing myself that what I was feeling wasn’t actually happening and forcing myself to act out what I thought it meant to be a man and all that macho bullshit. Find a girl, get married, have kids, and provide the way a man should. But I couldn't do it. And in the process of resenting myself for that, it…cost me some good friendships. Maybe a couple of potential relationships, too. But Evan? He’s accepted himself with a gentleness that he deserves. That everyone deserves.”

Despite the music, some medley of cheesy pop songs surrounding them, Eddie felt as if his head had been submerged under water, a phantom clogging in his ears that had him shaking his head as they started to ring.

His chest felt tight, his palms starting to sweat.

“Eddie? You okay?” a distant voice asked, worlds away from what he was pretty sure was the beginnings of a panic—

A strong hand landed on his shoulder gently, and he glanced up, meeting a pair of bright blue familiar eyes.

His chest loosened.

His breathing steadied.

“Yeah,” he murmured, slightly shaking fingers grasping Buck’s forearm. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just…think I’m still a bit dehydrated, that’s all.”

He didn’t need to know Buck like the back of his hand to read that he wasn’t buying one word he had just said, but thankfully, Tommy provided a distraction.

“I believe you owe me a dance.”

Buck’s gaze flickered from Eddie to Tommy and back again before he let out a hesitant breath.

“I do.”

“Well, come on, Evan. Show me whatcha got.”

Buck glanced back to Eddie, almost as if seeking permission, which, nope, Eddie couldn’t let himself think of the implications of that.

“Go on,” he urged, plastering a smirk onto his still too stiff face. “Show him those moves, Crockett.”

Buck nodded, something still swimming in his eyes, but allowed himself to be pulled away.

Eddie stared after them as they made their way onto the dancefloor, hand in hand, their fingers linked. That same jolt in his stomach made its appearance for the umpteenth time.

I kinda can’t stop thinking about him…

That was what Buck had said that night, happiness practically radiating from him.

It had struck Eddie because, honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time his own thoughts were consumed by anyone who wasn’t his son or best—

Best friend.

Because, yeah. There were times he couldn’t stop thinking about Buck—many, many times over the years if he was being honest with himself. From grenades in legs and earthquakes to tsunamis and lawsuits to shootings and lightning strikes to everything in between, Evan Buckley had firmly taken up space in his mind—a lot. And it wasn’t just memories from the job, either.

There were drives to Chris and Carla introductions and Santa visits and skateboards and science projects and math homework and video games and movie marathons and breaking down doors and falling asleep on couches and poker nights and homemade meals and beers in kitchens and—

Suddenly, as if she were standing right beside him, he recalled what Maddie had said in her vows to Chimney a few hours earlier.

My brother once asked me what love should be. If it should be when you’re at your worst, and they’re at their worst, you have every reason to give up, and you still decide you wanna try again. I agreed with him then. And I agree with him even more now, because yeah, love is that and more, good and bad. Love is loving each other anyway…

He understood why she had included that, considering everything she and Chim had gone through over the years, but Eddie found, in that moment, a little selfishly, that he hadn’t been thinking about them. Instead, he thought about Buck and their relationship. How much they had gone through together since that first night in the back of the ambulance, and how he also agreed that, yeah, love should be that. Love should be choosing someone over and over again because you want to. Love should be seeing someone at their worst, and them at yours, and loving each other anyway.

But it hadn't occurred to him until just then that maybe not everyone thought about their best friends and their lives together during romantic wedding vows.

And that was before he had glanced up to find Buck already looking at him, from his place as Man of Honor at Maddie’s side, across from where he stood behind Hen at Chim’s. Eddie’s breath had died in his throat, unable to look away as Buck’s bright blue eyes locked on his while his sister talked about what true love meant, and how she had found her perfect partner in it.

You can have my back any day. Yeah, or you know, you could have mine.

He was startled back to the present as Buck let go of Tommy’s hand and whirled back around, clapping Eddie on the shoulder, leaning down, his breath ghosting over his ear in a way that had him suppressing a shiver.

“Go ask Marisol for a dance, Romeo.”

But I wanna dance with you.

The sudden thought had his breath hitching in his throat.

God knew they had danced like idiots only the night before during karaoke, but this was different. This was slow dancing at a formal event, in front of all of Buck’s family and friends.

I don’t care. I wanna dance with him.

Frowning at whatever he saw on Eddie’s face, Buck nodded towards Marisol, who stood off to the side with Christopher, Denny, and Karen. He gave his shoulder one last squeeze, right where it met his neck, his thumb lightly brushing his skin, before following Tommy.

Eddie stilled, watching him go, and felt something heavy and unnameable sink in his chest.

“Can I have this dance?”

He was ashamed to admit that the sudden appearance of Marisol at his side had him startled, but he recovered.

“Sure.”

They weaved their way in and out of the gathering couples. He clocked Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen and, of course, Chim and Maddie as he passed, but he carefully kept his eyes from searching the room for anyone else.

Once they found a free spot, Eddie placed one hand over Marisol’s and clutched her waist with the other, leading slowly. He caught her eye for a brief, half-hearted smile before his gaze wandered aimlessly around the room.

The song was familiar, its melody soft, and its voice recognisable. Springsteen. A cover? It was definitely something he had heard in bars back in Texas, and could see Maddie and Chim singing together at karaoke.

🎵 Now you can dance every dance with the guy who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight. And you can smile every smile for the man who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight…🎵

A pastel blur waved in front of him, almost directly opposite where he and Marisol were.

There he was.

His best friend.

Buck was swaying in Tommy’s arms, his hands resting on his shoulders, lips upturned in a small, private smile.

Eddie’s heart did a somersault in his chest.

🎵 But don’t forget, who’s takin’ you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be. So darlin’, save the last dance for me… 🎵

Blue eyes met brown from across the dancefloor.

The pink and purple lights cast Buck in a soft, warm hue, shadows washing across his face as the lyrics whirled around them.

🎵 Oh, I know that the music’s fine like sparklin’ wine, go and have your fun. Laugh and sing, but while we’re apart, don’t give your heart to anyone… 🎵

Eddie fought not to clench his hands, distantly aware of Marisol, but unable to look away from Buck, who was still staring at him from over Tommy’s shoulder, something he couldn't decipher etched across every inch of him.

🎵 Baby, don’t you know, I love you so, can’t you feel it when we touch, I will never, never let you go… 🎵

He watched as Buck stumbled a little, their eye contact breaking abruptly as he hurried to apologize to Tommy. Eddie wanted to take that moment to look away, focus anywhere else—on his date, ideally—but he couldn’t. His gaze stayed glued to Buck, only half paying attention to his own movements, just enough to have some semblance of dancing, and just when he was going to forcibly drag his eyes away…

Buck looked back up.

Their eyes locked.

🎵 You can dance, go and carry on, ‘til the night is gone and it’s time to go. If he asks if you’re all alone, can he walk you home, you must tell him no… 🎵

Eddie felt his heart hammer in his chest, his throat go dry, a stinging welling behind his eyes.

🎵 ‘Cause don’t forget who’s takin’ you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be. Oh darlin’, save the last dance for me… 🎵

Oh. Well, there's the answer to one terrifying question.

The same question, if he were being truly honest with himself, that had first echoed in the back of his mind as he lay bleeding out on the street. Or maybe even buried underground while running out of air.

The last few bars faded out as all of the air felt like it had been sucked out of the room, suspending them in time. All he could see was Buck. Evan Buckley, his best friend in the whole world, staring back at him as if…as if he…

“—ddie?”

“Hmm?”

His eyes snapped down to Marisol, who was gently tapping the back of his neck.

“You with me?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding shakily.

“Yeah, yeah, I-I'm with...uh, sorry, I think the hangover is goin’ for round two.”

He almost cringed at the lame excuse, but it was all his addled brain could come up with, distantly aware that the music had changed to something fast and upbeat and altogether young in a way that made him feel very, very old.

“I…uh…I’m gonna go get a drink. Hair of the dog and all that. You want one?”

Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and high-tailed it off the dancefloor.

Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.

Eddie had told that to Chim once. And now, he was dancing at his wedding.

Gonna follow your own advice, Diaz?

Violently shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of his very, very, inconvenient and dangerous thoughts, dodging in and out of people, his chest heaving. He only made it halfway to the bar before he heard a familiar clacking of crutches, and suddenly, a small hand tugged at his.

“Dad!” Christopher yelled over the music. “You gotta see this. Denny’s gonna do The Worm.”

Eddie froze in his tracks, snapping his eyes shut for a beat to calm himself before slowly turning to meet his son, hoping his face seemed normal.

Because the thing was, this didn’t feel like a panic attack. Not really. When he took a second to think about it, he realized it was true. Yes, the racing heart was there, the sweating palms, and the spiralling thoughts, but the actual panic? The godawful, icy fear in his veins that he had felt when Ana had been mistaken for his wife? No. That was conspicuously absent. So he wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t freaking out at the sharp turn his brain had taken when thinking about Buck.

Because it wasn’t sharp at all.

His heart had gotten there long ago. And had paved the way.

Be sure you’re following your heart…

That was what Carla had said to him. Years ago now.

...shit. Has everyone seen it before me?

Because yeah. This was a revelation.

An epiphany.

The final puzzle piece slotting into place and showing him the full picture for the very first time.

The picture that they made. He and Christopher and Buck. Their little family of three. He and Buck, having each other’s backs from almost day one, being partners in nearly every sense of the word, trying and sometimes failing together and loving each other anyway.

Except that last puzzle piece also told him that that love? Yeah. It was more than someone should feel for their best friend.

Shit.

“I didn’t think people still did The Worm,” he forced out a reply, relieved when his voice came out relatively fine.

“It was a very brief trend on TikTok,” Buck appeared beside them. “Brought it to a whole new generation. Chris showed him last week.”

Eddie took a breath, allowing his new, full, completed puzzle to settle into his chest, his heart, before narrowing his eyes at him.

“But Christopher isn’t allowed on TikTok.”

A blush rose to Buck’s cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Eddie’s stomach swooped. By now he'd stopped counting.

“No. But I am. And he may have been scrolling through my For You page. But I promise it’s all puppy videos and silly dances, Eds.”

He hummed at that as Chris let out another groan, impatiently tugging on his arm and nudging Buck forward.

“Come on, I don’t wanna miss it!”

Resigned to their fate, the three of them made their way back out onto the dancefloor where a small crowd was gathering.

As they walked, Buck threw him a gentle, enigmatic smile that seemed to shift the air around them.

And Eddie…

New revelations and all, smiled back and followed him.

#buddie #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fox #911 on fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #my fanfiction

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roxyrondell · 1 day

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I’ve decided that in my OFMD modern au fic Spanish Jackie’s bar and grill is basically like Hooters only it’s not just the women wearing skimpy outfits. The Swede is the bartender and loves his job and Jackie.

#our flag means death #spanish jackie #the swede #my fanfiction #ofmd my beloved #long live ofmd

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hagswags · 2 days

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Happy Passover, chapter 14 of JaDD is up! It’s got everything- the entire 141, toddler acquisition, boats…

#hagswags #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod mwii #ghost cod #soap cod #my fanfiction #fanfic #historical au #interwar period au

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tragedybunny · 8 months

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My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.

“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.

There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.

Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.

“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.

“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.

“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.

“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”

The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.

Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.

With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."

It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.

The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.

"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.

“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.

An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.

“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.

Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.

That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”

A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.

“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Astarion…”

He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”

Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.

“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”

“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”

With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing

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lizthewriter · 3 months

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messy / regina george

PAIRING regina george x fem!reader

SUMMARY you and regina have been secretly hooking up for months, but she breaks up with you when you ask for more. after she gets hit by a bus, you fear for her life and whatever relationship you have left.

TAGS regina george x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, queer!, reneé rapp is so fine 😫😫, internalized homophobia, use of d-slur (lesbian slur)

QUOTE "half of all my exes regret me, / but none of them will ever forget me, / loving me gets really messy," - messy by reneé rapp

WRITTEN 1.13.2024

WORD COUNT 1.3K

A/N everytime reneé showed up on screen, i literally started banging my fists against my seat because she SERVED CUNT!!!! SHE WAS SO FINE!!!! literally after the movie, my best friend said to me: "i think you're just gay. i think you're a woman kisser. you might just have a little fruit in your cup."

slammed up against the wall, you felt regina's teeth clash furiously against yours. it was all hot passion - how your lips ran feverishly against hers as though you'd never get to feel her touch again, the way her hands ran up and down the sides of your body as though she needed to memorize the shape of you. days the two of you had gone without a moment to yourselves. days you had spent fantasizing about her pressing you up against the wall. it wasn't that you didn't want a normal relationship. it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss and hold hands and go on cute dates, but . . . that wasn't regina's style. she was closeted. heavily. actually, you weren't sure that she even understood that making out with girls was perhaps the most gay thing she could do, but you were willing to take what you were given. it was regina george, after all.

she pulled away from you by biting gently down on your lip, letting go when she could no longer stretch it any longer. "god, you're so hot," she whispered with a smirk, unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt. she reclaimed the control she had over your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone. your hands somehow found their way to her beautiful blond locks, scraping her scalp with the sharp edge of your nails. fantasy was nothing like reality. you had forgotten how good it felt, but how terrible it was all at once. as her warm breath tickled your skin, doubts that had been haunting you the past few days filled your mind slowly. was this healthy? didn't you deserve a healthy queer relationship, one that would be open and free and full of love, real love?

you wanted it all. you wanted the life you saw other queer girls have all around the world. going on cute picnic dates with homeade muffins and favorite books, sitting in the lap of your partner and doing their makeup, snuggling on the couch while watching a movie. holding hands while strolling the town center. it was hard to keep these thoughts back any longer. they overflowed.

you felt regina freeze as you gently pushed her away from where she had latched onto your upper chest. "can we, um, talk?" you ask. she could hear the tone in your voice. you knew she could. the way her eyes met yours made your stomach twist with discomfort.

"talk?" she asked in an incredulous tone, pulling away.

"it's just that, well, hear me out first. i like you. i really like you, a lot! that's why i really want us to be more than . . . making out in the custodian's closet after school and sneaking into your room while your mom's asleep," you explained nervously, stumbling over your words. finally able to meet her eyes, all hope was shattered as you felt her icy stare fixed upon your flushed face.

"i thought we made a deal when we started this. nothing more than this." she barked out a bitter laugh and fluffed out her hair. "what, did you think i was some kind of dyke or something? this was supposed to be fun. nice job stamping out that fire." she opened the door to the closet and waltzed out like nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend the entire last three months building a bond. heart: broken.

fear couldn't describe the emotion you felt driving to the hospital. it was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, heart-tearingly excruciating. the rumors swirling around made your sick with worry. could she really be dead?

you weren't there when it happened. you had been driving home and then doing homework, hiding your phone away in a drawer somewhere to keep you distracted. it wasn't until hours later that you checked your notifications to realize she had been admitted to the er.

you rushed into the hospital, demanding to hear about her condition.

"are you immediate family?" the nurse at the desk asked. of course you lied. of course you said yes. she gave you the room number and told you that you could wait in the hall - the doctors were talking with her mother and you would need to wait until she woke up herself.

when you arrived at the door to her room, you were afraid to look inside. you weren't sure why. she was alive, yes. maybe you were afraid she was still upset with you. or worse, she had amnesia and forgot about you completely. dejected, you collapsed into the very comfortable plastic chair next to her room.

a few minutes later, the door opened and the doctors and mrs. george exited the room. you stood up suddenly, expectant in your expression.

"she's fine. she's going to heal 100%, she just needs to wear a corrective neck bracelet for several weeks," the doctors assured you. you could relax, just a little. they walked down the hall, chatting softly. mrs. george grinned at you - you had met before, of course, being introduced as one of regina'a friends.

"well, look who we have here! did you hear the news? they said my name on the evening," she told you excitedly, as though her daughter weren't stuck in the hospital from injuries resulting for being hit. by a bus. "head on in darling, those cute boys said she'd be awake soon." her eyes trailed down the hall to the two doctors that had revived regina. with a mini-wave and a "toodle-doo!" she was down the hall and full on flirting with men much younger than herself.

the doorknob to regina's room stared back at you with intimidation so strong you almost turned around and drove home. you reached out a closed your hand around the cool metal, slowly turning it until you were passing through the doorway and standing feet away from her bed. it didn't feel as scary as you thought, entering her room, staring over at her bed. she looked more at peace then you had ever seen her, she looked prettier than you had ever seen her. without her mean-girl face, she seemed a lot more genuine. a lot more like the regina that opened up to you that one chilly night in december.

you silently pulled a chair next to her bed and sat there, waiting for her to wake up. you didn't mind the wait, in a way. because she was sitting there next to you, and she was going to be okay.

when regina awoke, she seemed more confused than anything. her brows furrowed as she looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on you.

"hey," you said all of a sudden, sitting up straight. "you're okay, you're fine. you're . . . in the hospital."

"what are you doing here?" not snappy or bitter or angry. genuine.

"i heard you got hit by a bus," you said, biting your bottom lip anxiously. would she yell at you? tell you she never wanted to see you again? "i heard . . . i you died. i just had to see for myself, to make sure you were okay. i'm sorry, if you don't want me here, i'll -"

"don't leave!" she shouted, grabbing your hand. you stared down at the place where her skin met your hand. this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. her fingers intertwined with yours and you find her eyes to be pleading you. "please, just don't leave."

"regina -"

"just shut up and listen, okay?" she told you, sounding upset, but it didn't seem to be an emotion she was directing towards you. you sat back down and scooted your chair closer to her. "i want us to be something more too . . . okay? i like you, loser."

you narrowed your eyes at her. "is this regina george trying to be nice?" you asked dubiously.

"don't ruin the moment or i'm taking everything i said back."

"no," you said quickly, shaking your head with a smile. you placed your other hand on the one clasped in hers. "it's a good look on you. really."

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#regina george x reader #regina george x you #mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #mean girls #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #renee rapp #reneé rapp

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dizzyhslightlyvoided · 5 months

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Ramona: Yeah, uh, Roxie and I are both trans women.

Scott: Oh! So that's how she's one of your "evil ex boyfriends" despite being a girl!

Roxie, six inches from slicing him to bits depending on what he says next: Oh?

Scott, oblivious: Not "ex ... boyfriend", but "ex-boy ... friend!"

Roxie: ... y'know, that's the funniest way I've ever heard any "cis" person describe it.

Scott: Oh, really? -- Wait, why was "cis" in quotes?

Ramona, as innocently as she can manage: What do you mean in quotes?

Roxie, ditto: Yeah, this is a verbal conversation.

Scott: Uhhh, never mind.

The catgirl speedrunner from the High Council of Trans Women who was ready to clip through the wall and deck Ramona or Roxie in the face if either of them tried to violate the Trans Prime Directive, like with the Vegan Police: (retreats)

#shenanigans #scott pilgrim #ramona flowers #roxie richter #trans scott pilgrim #trans ramona flowers #trans roxie richter #trans stuff #microfiction #my stuff #my writing #my fanfiction #rhoda pilgrim

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geekgirles · 3 days

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Fanfic Update!

How are y'all doing, my lovelies?

I just wanted to let you know I hope to be done with chapter 4 tomorrow night, meaning I should be able to upload it on Wednesday. I'm really looking forward to it, because I'm even more excited to finally tackle chapter 5!

That one promises to be quite lengthy and I have a lot of ideas for it I hope you'll love as much as I do, so let's see how it goes :) Hope you'll be on the look-out for what's to come!

#wakfu #wakfu fanfiction #my fanfiction #wakfu au #the doll and the dragon #divine doll #divine doll! au #sadida doll! au #yugo the #yugo the eliatrope #amalia sh #amalia sheran sharm #yumalia #sadida #eliatrope #dofus #ankama #krozmos

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lesbianpepsi · 9 months

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sweet like cinnamon

pairing: jenna ortega x blind!fem!reader

summary: you fell in love with her voice years before you fell in love with her.

link to request

series masterlist

words: 2.619k

warnings: reader makes blind jokes?, light swearing, bad writing

authors note: this isn't my best work which i heavily apologise for, life has been a real mess lately and i just haven't been enjoying it at all🫠🫠

Nobody in this world has the same voice; nobody. Some might have similar sounding voices but nobody's is identical.

You didn't really notice that until you were fifteen years old, the young tragic age you turned blind. You were the one in a million that was born with thrombophilia (blood clotting disorder) which resulted in you getting vessel occlusion in your eyes, making you slowly become more blind as the years passed until it completely vanished.

It was horrible in the beginning, to tell the truth but as the years passed the more you got used to being blind and the more you became okay with it.

The one thing you didn't appreciate enough when you had sight was people's voices. When that was the only thing that could help you detect who was talking to you, you became entranced by peoples voices.

The soft spoken people, the gruffly sounding people, the neutral sounding people. You loved hearing people's voices, but there was one voice you had completely fell entranced to, like a pirate to a sirens mystical voice.

A actresses voice.

You have never heard such a soft and relaxing voice before in your entire life. It was as sweet as honey; warming your heart as a smile played on your lips whenever you heard the voice.

The first time you heard her voice was when you were sixteen, your friend had invited you over to watch a random horror movie 'The Babysitter: Killer Queen.'

In honesty you didn't enjoy the movie at all, finding it boring and annoying at times. But one thing compelled you into watching it; one voice.

The voice of the character Phoebe who was played by 'America's It Girl' Jenna Ortega.

Her voice was so soft spoken yet it had that gentle raspiness to it that captured all of your attention, her calming voice soothing you in a way that even surprised you.

You were utterly fixated on it.

After that day you proceeded to find out what other movies she had been in, listening to them all at least once.

The more movies you listened to, the more you became in awe of the calming voice of Jenna Ortega.

As you grew up, your fangirl behaviour died down. You didn't religiously listen to her voice as you did in your teens, but you'd never forget her sweet voice.

—————

"C'mon Yelena." You whispered to your guide dog, the grip to her harness in your left hand while your right hand was occupied with your mobility cane, running it along the pavement as you walked down the street, the golden retriever leading you towards your favourite cafe.

It was a warm Thursday morning, the sun shined brightly over the town you lived in, warming you up as you walked down the quiet street.

You didn't have a particularly busy day that day, so you decided to head down to the local cafe.

The place was a family run cafe that you absolutely adored for a myriad of reasons. Its loving atmosphere, the best coffee you ever had and your own signature booth at the corner of the cafe.

It was honestly like your second home at this point.

As you rounded the final corner you smiled to yourself and walked over the one crooked step on the sidewalk, remembering exactly where it was like the back of your hand.

With a few more steps you felt Yelena slow down as she prepared to face the cafe door, you smiled down at her as you gave her a quick pat before you pushed the door open, the familiar ring reaching your ears as you entered the cafe.

You and Yelena walked over to the booth in the corner with a smile on both of your lips. As you reached the booth you loosened your grip on Yelena's harness, knowing you'd be okay without her and the fact she was an extremely well behaved dog.

Leaning your cane against the corner booth seat, sighing as you listened to the sound that filled your ears.

Idle chatter heard was the first thing you could hear the second being low music that played throughout the cafe, a Taylor Swift song that you didn't know the title of.

As you focused even further you suddenly heard quiet breathing from the booth. You snapped your head instantly in the direction of the noise, flushing red with embarrassment.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know someone was in the booth." You rushed out slightly embarrassed, not expecting someone in so early and in the booth.

A quiet whimsical laugh filled your ears, you tilted your head to the side. You knew that laugh, it sounded so familiar.

"No it's my fault for not saying anything before, I'm really sorry." The woman apologised back, a small laugh still noticeable in her voice.

Your eyes widened dramatically behind your thick black sunglasses, you definitely knew that voice.

As you tried not to physically explode when you realised Jenna Ortega was sitting in front of you, you rubbed the back of your neck as you smiled crookedly.

"I should've asked if someone was here, nobody's usually at this booth, especially this early in the morning." You explained to her as you clicked your fingers, Yelena swiftly moved to your side, her harness already between your fingers.

"Honestly you don't have to apologise, we can share the booth if you'd like?" She offered in a honey sweet voice, her voice enchanting you as it did when you were sixteen.

You honestly couldn't believe your absolute luck, I mean it's not everyday you'd run into Jenna fucking Ortega.

Loosening your grip on Yelena's harness you gave an eager nod to her, smiling brightly. "Yeah that sounds great." You told her as you slowly sat down, Yelena moving to sit down on the floor next to you.

"I'm Jenna." She says, you smile at her as you extend your hand to her direction. "Pleasure to meet you Jenna, I'm Y/n."

Her soft hand met yours as she gave it a gentle shake, her fingers having a strong yet a gentle grip on your hand. It was as if electricity coursed through your veins the moment her palm connected with yours, tingling your entire body from your fingertips to your ears.

Your and Jenna's hands lingered there for longer than any handshake should be, as if both of you didn't want to take your hands back.

Slowly, you and the brunette did eventually pull away as you smiled nervously at her, still heavily intimidated that you were currently sitting in a cafe with Jenna Ortega.

"Are you a regular here?" She asked once the two of you had duly pulled away, her hand grasping around her mug. You nodded your head as you smiled softly. "Yeah I've been coming here for years. You?"

Jenna smiled at you as she sipped her coffee, a gentle smile toying on her lips. "I just found this place a few months ago and have been coming here at least two times a week ever since then. I've never seen you here before though."

You snorted out a laugh. "I've definitely not seen you."

Jenna stumbled over her words as she let out a nervous laugh, not knowing how to respond to your joke. Most people didn't know how to react whenever you made a joke about your blindness. They'd always get flustered as if they'd offend you if they'd laugh at your joke.

"You can laugh, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want you to laugh." At that Jenna finally let out a genuine laugh, not a nervous awkward laugh people do when they don't know whether to laugh or not.

Your heart fluttered in your chest the same way it did when you were sixteen as you heard her laugh, it still being one of the most heavenly things you had ever heard.

As her laughter died down Jenna was leaning on her hand as she gazed at your features, a smitten smile already on her face.

"Why've you been coming here for years?" Jenna asked curiously, her sole focus still on you. You purse your lips momentarily as you think of an actual reason. "Well, I've been told the place is beautiful and they serve the best cinnamon latte I've ever tasted."

Jenna grinned as her eyes flickered down to her drink, a cinnamon latte; her favourite.

"Is that your favourite?" She voiced as her slender fingers wrapped around the warm mug. You nodded your head with your own smile on your lips. "Yeah, been my favourite forever. The ones here are just so strong it beats any other cafe."

Jenna hummed as she sipped her latte. "That I agree with."

You grinned at her as you felt more relaxed with the entire situation, relaxing into your chair as you listened intently to her.

Footsteps were heard coming in your direction, light but they were still noticeable. You moved your head in the direction of the footsteps as you smiled, you already knew who it was from the footsteps.

"Nance, great to hear you again." You greeted her with a grin, the old woman cackled as she arrived at your booth.

"Y/n, my favourite customer. How've you been, dear?" She asked as she bent down to place the dog bowl full of cold water and a few ice cubes for Yelena, the golden dog greedily began slurping away at the beverage the moment it touched the ground.

You nodded your head weakly. "Mediocre but much better now since I arrived here." Nancy let out a quick chuckle as she shook her head. "One cinnamon latte, I'm guessing?"

"You know me too well." You answered with a smile as you turned back to face the woman sitting across from you.

"You want another one, Jen?" She asked as she turned to face her; Jenna nodded her head with a polite smile on her face. "Please."

Nancy nodded her head as she scribbled away on her christmas notepad. "Two cinnamon lattes for the two lovely ladies. Enjoy your date girls." She said with a mischievous grin that only Jenna witnessed before she turned away to go make your drinks.

You blushed heavily, looking down as you hoped Jenna wouldn't notice it. Little did you know Jenna herself had a soft blush that tainted her cheeks beautifully.

Coughing, you covered your hand with your mouth as you picked your head back up, your face facing Jenna's.

"Great minds think alike?"

Jenna laughed lightly as she looked at you in awe. "Only the greatest."

You quickly realised that conversation between you and Jenna flowed by swiftly.

Jenna eventually did bring up the fact she was a well known actress, to which you simply replied with what you knew.

She was slightly surprised but it didn't change how she spoke to you, and it never changed for you once.

Both you were so lost in your own small world in the corner of the cafe neither of you even noticed how much time had passed.

As you were telling her the story of how you almost died twice in the same holiday her phone rang loudly, interrupting you quite rudely.

Jenna groaned as she glanced at the screen, her face souring as she noticed her time with you was up.

"It's my manager, probably wondering where I am." She explained as she declined the call, clicking the 'Sorry, I can't call right now.' option as she shoved her phone into her pocket.

You exhaled as your fingers played with the empty mug in front of you. "Duty calls?"

Jenna frowned as she nodded her head, growing the urge to throw her phone out the window as she felt the low vibrations of the text messages from her boss.

"Unfortunately." She grumbled as she looked at her half empty cup of latte. You smirked at her as you stopped moving your fingers. "What, you don't wanna leave me or something?"

"Nah, I just don't wanna go listen to my manager yap for hours."

"Wow, being mean to a blind woman? I'll cancel you for that, Ms Ortega." You remarked with a playful smile, chuckling yourself.

Jenna shook her head amused as she ignored the onslaught of messages from her manager.

"Cancel me? Oh no, what could I do to make you rethink your decisions?" Jenna asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she lifted her mug to take another sip of her drink.

Your mouth was running much faster than your mind, before you could even process the words coming out of your mouth you replied back to her in a confident voice.

"Take me out on a date." You answered in lightning speed with a nervous smile, a blush appeared on your cheeks moments after you noticed what you said.

Jenna was silent for a moment, in that small moment your confidence was easily diminished as your fear began increasing as fast as your heart beat.

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I know we just met and I probably just made you really uncomfortable." You apologised as you tilted your head down.

"Y/n." Jenna said.

You ignored her as you kept apologising to her, you had already convinced yourself she was going to reject you and thought you were weird.

"I honestly don't know what came over me, I probably just ruined any small potential of a friendship we could've had by that." You carried on apologising, unaware of the delighted smile on Jenna's face.

"Y/n." She said with a more firm tone, her voice raised to steal your attention. Gingerly you lifted your head, that scarlet red hue still tainted your cheeks.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." Jenna exclaimed in her sweet voice that practically made your nervous frown flip into a boisterous smile.

"Really?" You asked in disbelief.

Jenna laughed as she nodded her head, her smile so wide she was showing her pearly whites to the world.

"Really." She confirmed as she lowered her empty mug, placing it next to yours. "I'd love nothing more if I'm being honest."

You beamed at her words, your heart never calmed down as you still couldn't believe Jenna Ortega said she wanted to go on a date with you.

Abruptly, Jenna's phone rang loudly once again, making you and Jenna annoyed at the distribution.

"Can I have your number?" Jenna asked you as she ignored the ringing, you nodded your head eagerly.

"Oh thank god you asked for it, I was so scared you were gonna say something like 'fate will bring us together again.'" You replied as you took out your phone from your pocket, passing it over to Jenna.

She giggled as she looked for your number on your phone. "You don't believe in fate or something?"

You shook your head. "Oh no, I believe in fate. I just don't think fate would let me magically see you and spot you in public." You joked as Jenna began entering her own number into your phone after she was done with hers.

Jenna didn't say anything as she chuckled quietly, passing your phone back to you.

"I really have to leave now, otherwise my manager will actually send a team looking for me." Jenna apologised with a sigh. You laughed softly as you smiled as softly at her.

"I'll call you?" She asked as you heard her shuffle out of her side of the booth. Your head followed the movement of the noise, nodding your head with a smile.

"I'll be waiting."

"I won't make you wait too long."

—————

a/n: fun fact, i fucking hate cinnamon with a passion

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #fluff #my work #my fanfiction

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 7 days

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A Dance in Death

Title: A Dance in Death

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Word Count: ~3,927

In which Alastor takes the reader out to Mimzy’s club. Things go sideways much too soon, but the Radio Demon is quick to make amends.

A/N: This is a part 2 of sorts to my previous Alastor x reader fic, Doubt, but it can also be read as its own individual fic! Hope you enjoy :)

Mimzy’s speakeasy was most known for three things.

One, it was known for its captivating acts and performances. Demons and sinners from all around Pentagram City had heard stories and whispers about what could be experienced there. Two, it was known for being one of the most lively and entertaining places on this side of Hell. And three, it was known for being on the wrong side of town, making it the perfect place for no-good demons to spend their time and even do discrete business, so long as they paid their dues to Mimzy, of course.

That last point probably should have kept you away from this place. But you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing that you had come on the arm of the Radio Demon himself. After all, who would dare approach you with Alastor around?

Nobody, as it turned out. You and Alastor had been sitting in a corner booth for almost an hour now, and nobody had dared to come within ten feet of you, save for one unfortunate server who had graciously provided you both with your drinks before scurrying off and hiding, not coming back even once.

And although you enjoyed any time that you got to spend alone with Alastor, you couldn’t help but notice that the two of you were both on edge that night.

You, on one hand, simply wanted to dance. It wasn’t often that you were able to go to bars or speakeasies, and you would have loved nothing more than to lead the demon across from you on to the dancefloor. But you knew better than that. Alastor’s interest in you came with limits that you hadn’t yet discovered, but you’d be double-damned if you were going to find them out tonight.

Although you had to admit, as you gazed out longingly at the dancing demons on the floor, that you wouldn’t mind at least trying to share a drink and a conversation with your partner. But that wouldn’t happen until Mimzy finally decided to saunter over to your table.

Which led you to the reason for Alastor’s impatience.

The whole reason that he had invited you out tonight was because Mimzy had requested an audience with him at her place of business. To discuss what, you weren’t sure, but you knew that the Radio Demon hated to be kept waiting.

His impatience was starting to become evident, though it was likely that nobody around you noticed anything amiss. You, however, had become well versed in reading Alastor’s silent cues.

He had yet to touch his drink, though his clawed hand was firmly wrapped around the glass. He was surveying the building with apparent disinterest, but you could see the way that his sharp gaze roamed over each and every other demon and sinner present. You could see tension in the corners of his ever present smile, even though his eyes were hooded in an expression of mild boredom.

As you downed the last drops of your drink, you risked a glance over to Alastor once again. You had wanted to strike up a conversation since you had stepped foot through the door, but hadn’t wanted to distract him from his thoughts. But when his grip around the glass tightened once again, your internal war finally ended. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have him suddenly lose his composure and bring the whole place to the ground.

You cleared your throat lightly as you placed your glass back down on the table. You received Alastor’s attention immediately, his eyes darting over to yours. “Yes, my dear?”

You smiled back at him. “Mimzy has a lot of nerve hyping this place up when it has such terrible customer service, doesn’t she?”

With no small amount of satisfaction, you noticed Alastor’s smile ease into something that almost resembled kind amusement. “Indeed,” Alastor hummed. “Though I must say, her choice in song is quite enjoyable.”

You shrugged, looking back at the dance floor. “It’s fine to dance to, I suppose. Not so much fun when you’re stuck sitting and waiting for someone to show up.”

There was no response. You returned your gaze to Alastor to see him looking at you almost curiously. “I wasn’t aware that you were one for dancing, my dear.”

A laugh bubbled up and pushed its way through your lips before you could stop it. You pressed your fingers to your lips to try and conceal it as Alastor tilted his head at you in confused interest.

At the sound of your laughter, his shadow suddenly perked up, quickly making its way over and sitting beside you.

When your giggle had finally subsided, you opened your mouth to respond to Alastor’s comment. It wasn’t completely his fault that he knew so little about your past life, after all, but you hadn’t expected that he, of all people, would make such blatant assumptions.

Before you could get a word out, though, the shadow placed a clawed hand under your chin, tilting your head to face it. Its fingers wandered until they reached the base of your throat before gently clawing their way back up, almost as if trying to coax another laugh out of you through touch alone.

It was so much more intimate than you had thought Alastor was capable of.

But then Alastor waved a hand in the air, summoning his shadow back to his side. It obeyed almost immediately, caressing your throat once more before melting back into the floor and returning to its rightful place.

You cleared your throat again, this time in an attempt to fight the red spots on your cheeks. Not that their presence had escaped Alastor’s notice. His smile had widened dramatically, though thankfully, he chose not to comment on the interaction, instead waiting for a response to his earlier comment.

“I do dance,” you finally replied, looking back up at the Overlord. “I used to dance plenty before…well, you know,” you said with a small grin. “I died.”

Alastor waved away your comment with a flourish. “Ah, yes, I do see how such a thing could impede on your abilities for a moment. Though, if I’m not mistaken, you now have two perfectly functioning legs.”

“But I haven’t been to a club since before I died. And there’s not much opportunity to show off my moves at the hotel,” you replied with a shrug. You tilted your head at the demon. “And you? Do you dance?”

The Overlord smiled wistfully. “Oh yes, I was quite known for my dancing abilities back in the land of the living.”

“I thought you were known for being a mass murdering radio host.”

Alastor shrugged, giving you a devious grin. “I’ve always been multitalented, my dear.”

You laughed again, this time trying to ignore the eager look you received from both Alastor and his shadow.

“You know,” you said slyly once you had calmed yourself, looking down at your empty glass. “I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my skills tonight after your meeting.” You looked up innocently, meeting Alastor’s eyes. “If you haven’t lost your impeccable skills, that is.”

The demon’s eyes flashed. “Careful, mon chere. I-”

“Alastor! How’re you doing, doll?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of the new voice. You stared as a short, blonde woman made her way across the floor, arms raised in welcome and a broad smile on her face.

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered as he greeted the woman. “Mimzy, dear,” he drawled, turning away from you. His smile stretched unnaturally. “You are extraordinarily late.”

The woman- Mimzy- waved her hand in indifference. “I’m busy running a business, Al, you know how it is. Can’t eva get anyone to do what you want without a bit of prodding.”

Her gaze slid over to you, eyes widening as her smile grew. “Say, Alastor, did you bring me a new toy?” Her eyes roamed over you slowly. “She’s a little dull, but I can spruce her right up.”

You suddenly felt very exposed.

You recoiled slightly, attempting to keep your movements unnoticeable as you pressed yourself further into the booth to get away from the Mimzy’s prying eyes.

You tried not to notice the way that other demons and sinners had begun to glance over at the sudden appearance of the bar’s owner. They aren’t looking at you, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help but take in Mimzy’s confident appearance and attitude, coupled with Alastor’s calm poise. You could see how the Mimzy could have mistaken you for one of Alastor’s wayward souls.

Almost as if it could sense your discomfort, Alastor’s shadow suddenly reared up and placed itself directly in front of you, blocking you from Mimzy’s line of sight.

“Unfortunately, Mimzy dear,” Alastor said from opposite you, though he avoided looking in your direction. “Charlie has grown quite attached to her little friend, and I doubt she would be thrilled to discover that I had allowed her to become a part of your…”

“Productions,” you piped up. Alastor’s shadow looked back at you in delight before shifting through the air to sit beside you once again.

“Precisely,” Alastor said.

Mimzy only shrugged, giving you a wink. “Well, I’m here if you change your mind, hun.”

She turned back to Alastor. “Let’s you and me talk for a bit, huh? I know this sorta thing ain’t really your cup of tea. I’ve got a room in the back that we can use. Your little doll will be alright on her own for a while, won’t she?”

At her words, Alastor finally turned to face you once again, his eyes roaming over your face for only a moment before he stood. “Of course. I never would have brought her otherwise.”

With that, he made to follow Mimzy without so much as a glance back in your direction. A move that he had made on purpose, you were sure. After all, it simply wouldn’t do to have others believe that the Radio Demon actually cared for someone.

Even so, you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as the two sinners walked away. From beside you, in the dim light that the club so generously provided, Alastor’s shadow placed its hand on yours comfortingly. You turned to face it with a smile. “At least I still have you.”

The shadow grinned, using its other hand to gently cradle your cheek, pulling you closer until your foreheads met. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as your heart grew light. The shadow might not have been Alastor himself, but you had learned enough to know that it was heavily influenced by Alastor’s own thoughts, feelings, and commands. This was as close to affectionate that he would ever be with you.

Suddenly, the shadow’s touch left you.

You opened your eyes to see that it was nowhere to be seen.

“My, my,” a voice said from behind you. You jerked forward in surprise, spinning around to see a tall, winged imp casually leaning against the booth. He definitely hadn’t been in the building a few minutes ago, you noted.

The imp leaned forward. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You flushed, glancing around to see if you could catch a glimpse of Alastor’s shadow. But it was as if it had never been beside you in the first place. Which would explain why the imp had decided to approach you at all. Nobody would have dared spoken to you if they knew that you were here with an Overlord.

You opened your mouth to tell him as much before you caught yourself, clamping your mouth shut. No matter how well Alastor’s conversation went with Mimzy, it was likely that he never would have danced with you anyway. There were too many eyes and ears here for him to let his guard down.

“You here alone?” the imp asked, trying his luck once more.

You fixed a smile on your face. If this was your only chance to dance, you were sure as Hell going to take it.

You stood, extending your hand in greeting. “Would you like to dance?”

The imp’s flirtatious smile changed to one of intrigue. “Straight to the point. I like it.”

You wiggled your fingers. “Are we going to dance, or what?”

The imp grinned, taking your hand and leading you on to the dance floor.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for when you and Alastor had come to Mimzy’s club, but you figured that it would at least be a decent substitute for something that you would never be able to have.

You felt your smile slipping as the pair of you began to move to the music.

You hated moments like these, when you realized that no matter what you did or how you felt, you would never be able to show your feelings for Alastor in public. It wasn’t just the fact that he disliked physical touch, which you had never faulted him for. It was the fact that as one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords, he felt the overwhelming need to keep up an appearance. One that did not, unfortunately, include you.

A gentle touch snapped you back to reality. “You alright?” the imp asked.

No, you weren’t. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from dancing.

You nodded, taking the imp’s hand in yours as you began to move to the music once again. “I’m fine.” You smirked. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”

~~~

If you were to later ask anyone at Mimzy’s speakeasy what had happened that night, you would probably receive a whole mix of stories.

Some would say that the Radio Demon had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his antlers growing and his bones cracking as he laid waste to the bar, presumably for fun or out of an unjust anger.

Others would say that he had come to seek some sort of revenge on a winged imp that had been spotted dancing before he suddenly disappeared, not to be seen again.

One specific witness, who shall remain nameless, would say that she had been speaking to an old friend about a business opportunity that he had foolishly taken no interest in. As she was speaking, a shadow had entered the room, whispering in its owner's ear. Her old friend had walked away from her, re-entering her bar, where he was met with the view of an imp dancing with the very woman that he had brought here in the first place.

The witness hadn’t even had time to blink before her friend had taken on his true demon form, batting people aside as if they were only flies before promptly picking up the imp dancing with the woman and melting into the shadows with him.

When her friend returned, he refused to say what he had done with the poor imp, though the witness had no trouble making a few assumptions. He had walked over to the women, gently taken her hand, and gave the witness a clipped farewell before vanishing with the women into the shadows.

It was a brutal display, even for the Radio Demon. If the witness had to guess, she would assume that perhaps the woman had something to do with the whole debacle.

Not that she would ever say so to anyone else, of course. She knew better.

You, however, had no trouble saying straight to Alastor’s face what you believed had happened.

“We were dancing, Al. It was harmless. If I’d needed your help, you would have known.”

“You would never have summoned me if he was threatening you, my dear.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. The two of you had been going back and forth like this ever since he had so graciously brought you back to the hotel from Mimzy’s bar.

You lifted your head and took a breath before continuing. “If he was threatening me, we probably wouldn’t have been just dancing.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, his shadow rearing up and scowling in disgust.

You whirled around and pointed at the shadow. “And you. You went and told him that something bad was happening, didn’t you? You are a liar and a rat, my friend.”

At your words, the shadow suddenly shrank down in size and hid behind its owner, almost as if trying to avoid your accusatory glare.

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t break eye contact. “He only meant to protect you, my dear, the way he was instructed to.”

“What did you think I would need protecting from, exactly? I can’t exactly die again, can I?”

“There are things far worse than a second death, my dear,” Alastor said with false sweetness.

He was right, you knew. You had almost been subjected to such a thing after your death, when you had sold your soul to the Vees. You still weren’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Alastor himself had found out about you and somehow saved you from a life of imprisonment and torture.

Not everyone was as lucky as you were.

But that wasn’t why you were upset.

As soon as Alastor had saved you from the Vees, you had been determined to help him even a fraction of the way that he had helped you. You owed him so much more than that, you knew, but it was the only thing that you could give. And so, from that moment forward, you had tried your very best to become a solid and stable presence for Alastor, unmoving in your trust in him and, hopefully, eventually something like a friend.

But tonight, you had done the exact opposite. To see the Radio Demon defend you was to know that he felt things like affection, or even something more than indifference. That wouldn’t do for his reputation at all, you knew, and you hated yourself for being the cause of it.

You sighed in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest in defense. “I know that,” you said, holding your position and glaring daggers at the Overlord. “But I also know that you risked a lot today by protecting me. I’m not worth losing your power over-”

You gasped as Alastor appeared directly in front of you, glaring intensely. He didn’t lift a finger, but you swore you could feel the heat of his gaze.

“I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear.”

“Never,” you promised, searching his gaze.

The Overlord stepped back, his stretched out smile immediately concealing his true feelings. “Wonderful,” he said. “Then we both understand that my power and status will forever remain.”

You nodded once before finally breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at the floor.

You could feel the anger seeping out of you slowly, replaced by embarrassment. Of course Alastor would never give up his power for you. Even if someone had truly seen the incident, it was unlikely that anyone would ever be able to use it to their advantage. You were talking about the Radio Demon himself, after all.

“You’re right,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I made a foolish assumption.” You smiled to yourself. “I seem to be full of those today. I’m sorry.”

You were met with silence.

But before you could look up, you suddenly felt the cool touch of a shadow. It rested its hands against your cheeks, tilting your head up to make eye contact. It moved its thumbs in slow circles, leaning down until your foreheads were touching. It didn’t move any closer than that, but you knew that this was more than anyone else had ever received.

It was lovely.

But oh, how you wished it were really him.

The shadow stepped back, returning to its place beside its owner.

Alastor himself acted as though he hadn’t noticed the interaction at all, instead looking around your room as if seeing it for the first time.

“I do plan to maintain my powers, my dear,” Alastor repeated.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, he pushed forward. “Although,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t mind losing a few souls to keep what is most certainly mine.”

He looked towards you then, his gaze hard, as if daring you to argue.

And you should have. You should have told him that you weren’t worth losing souls for. You should have told him that you only wanted to help him, never hinder him.

You should have done lots of things.

What you did do, however, was smile and duck your head to hide your rising blush.

You looked back up and extended your hand wordlessly.

Alastor looked down at it before glancing back up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question as his shadow looked on eagerly from behind him.

Your smile only widened. “I believe, good sir, that you owe me a dance.”

The shadow nearly leapt with excitement, rushing forward and taking your hand.

You laughed at its enthusiasm before Alastor stepped forward and waved his hand, whisking the shadow away and taking its place.

He placed his hand under yours, bringing your hand up to place a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles before releasing you and straightening. Slowly, he brought his claws to the base of your throat before gently dragging them back up until he reached your chin. He tilted your face up further to meet his gaze before dropping his hand down to yours once more.

With his other hand, he waved his staff, summoning a slow dance tune that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and looked up curiously. “Didn’t you used to dance to songs that were a bit more lively?”

Alastor smiled gently down at you before summoning his shadow and surrendering his staff to it. “I did indeed, mon chere. But we aren’t exactly alive now, are we?”

You smiled back in agreement. “No, I suppose we’re not.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his hand on your waist. He lowered his head down until your foreheads were touching and began swaying, taking you with him on his slow trek around your bedroom floor.

You couldn’t have asked for anything more.

~~~

If you asked anyone at the hotel what had happened in your room that night, you would receive a few different stories.

Angel Dust would have told you that the Radio Demon had suckered a poor woman into going out with him that night, and you were most likely getting it on.

Charlie would have told you that she hadn’t seen either Alastor or the hotel’s newest resident all evening, though she doubted that the two of you had gone off somewhere together. Right?

Husk would have told you that he felt sorry for the woman who had gotten caught in the Radio Demon’s line of sight. You were such a sweet thing, and you deserved so much better.

You would have simply smiled and shrugged, giving nothing away.

Nobody would have dared ask the Radio Demon, of course.

But if anyone had bothered to ask the shadows, they would have received a rather lovely story about two sinners who had found their peace, only for a moment, dancing in each other’s arms that night.

An Overlord and a sinner.

A woman and a man.

Two damned souls, finding home at last.

A/N 2: I didn’t get to proofread, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! If you read the first fic (or even if you haven’t), I’m thinking of making another part where it’s platonic Angel Dust x reader and he finally gets to give her a makeover. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Also, I want to write more Alastor x reader (maybe a continuation of sorts, maybe not) so let me know if you guys want to be tagged in those!

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx-blog @maybememoriesx

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