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bedlamgames · 1 year

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Q&A #116

Today we have a pally possibly being too convincing, scaling standards of ambiguous gender, and a decidedly thorny question I’m honnestly amazed it took this long to ask about. Well publically anyway as I’d already had one person suggesting it privately as an option, and needing to calm the nerves of one rather worried artist who wondered where I stood on the issue.

[ Anonymous asked : ] had the Severina unique recruitable slaver (Rynhart) " [see] the error of their ways and accompanied the paladin to redeem themselves through a new life of righteousness and devotion.", which seems like it shouldnt be possible?

- - Heh, will have to come up with some alternate text removal for someone like Rynhart that even such a persuasive paladin couldn’t manage to turn their head.

[ Anonymous asked : ] It seems like Aurviel Nightkiss no longer has the unique aspect: Flesh Art, and only has the enchanted item Despoiler's Reward. Is this intentional?

- - I think she always had a enchanted item instead of an aspect if I remember right? I checked back to 0.90 and she’s unchanged from what she is now.

[ Anonymous asked : ] I'm not sure if this is a bug or if the requirements for getting her have changed, but I can't seem to get the unique slave, Johanna from the Centre of Attention quest anymore. Male PC in the first slot with Corruption, Alrissa with Corruption in the second, and a generic slaver in the third slot has worked in the past, but now, even on a critical success, I just get a generic slave.

- - You only get her on the first attempt. Otherwise you’ll get the generic version.

[ cappyanon asked: ] So, there are two things that slightly puzzle me with character creation that bug me a little, so this is more of an ambiguous "bug report" than necessarily a question meant for this feature, but here it goes; Is there any chance you can go back through the male portraits characters and re-look at how the feminine and exceptional femininity traits work/are distributed? I feel like there's a lot of portraits where I should *really* be able to play as feminine, Goblin Trade Prince, the new Draenai portrait I forget the name of, that looks reminiscent of an Asian realdoll, and I think a taggerfolk portrait iirc. Hope you have good luck with your ongoing medical problems with your eyes, and can make a full recovery.

- - Happy to sort that for next update, and if you want the option for more of those borderline characters I didn’t think needed to start with (Fem) as standard but could have it in Full Custom let me know and I’ll make it available for them too. Thanks for the well wishes on the eye health. Still not quite back to 100% alas.

[ From the Patreon : ] Have you given any thought to using that AI Art system to gen art for your game?

- - Now that's a topic to put it lightly. Yes I've certainly considered it. Very tempting and that's quite the understatement. Especially to remove a bunch of the placeholder work like many of the portraits which could take a long, long time and expense to update them all. For now I'm going to rely on using commmissioned artists only as I think it's the right thing to do.

[ From the Patreon : ] Out of interest, is there an exceptional result for the ensnared rose quest to recover the package?

- - Best result on that one is getting the Cathayan bandit leader if you're taking slaves or getting extra gold if not

[ From the Patreon : ] there should probably be better feedback/mechanics when trying to get slavers to do stuff. When you try to intimidate someone and fail, for instance, it says the leader "wouldn't stand a chance in a fight," even if the leader is stronger, taller, aggressive, has magic, etc., especially since what it really means is "try again another day and you might get a different result." In general it's too hard to talk slavers into doing things.

- - There is an option to turn on more information in regard to the various rolls and modifiers.

And now a whole bunch of random lore questions

[ From the Discord : ] do Lamia/Lizardfolk/Gorgons consider Draki to be some kind cousin race? not so much like related cousin, but more like if they see one in a fight, they're quicker to side with them sort of thing

- - no, they don't smell at all right, and it puts them on edge. Draki may get entirely the wrong impression as the lamia keeps licking their lips and thinking they're horny for them

[ From the Discord : ] Is there a faction/race that is Far Ahead in Science/Culture/Magic/Faith? (Me note: Think 4x/Civ style win conditions)

- - High Elfs are winning a faith/culture strat for sure in how much they've managed to grab onto positions of power in the church of the dawning light

[ From the Discord : ] what type of job/classification would each race take too ordinarily? Veil are scholars, or record keepers, but what about the rest

- - Drider seamstress obvs. Troll bartenders or bouncers. Even wenches sometimes. They like taverns.

[ From the Discord : ] Are there any minor faiths we have yet to see?

- - I did have a dropped faith back when I was more using existing art and wanted to do something with those demon hunter/that draenei thing style tatts. Ideas from that are now going to be eventually, maybe used for that circlyte cult I talked about in new races.

I've also been toying with doing something with the Hashut/Mordor vibe seeing as the zharr I did something entirely different with. That'd probably be an add on to a new race

[ From the Discord : ] do get sunny beaches north of the kreen desert right?

- - Closest sunny beaches is there's some north of quellini which is on that patch of land just across the sea. There's probably also some both north and south of the sands east of the mountains.

[ From the Discord : ] You know those maps of the us with the most searched sex term? for each state If that was a thing in NH, what would the top search term of each area be?

- - City of Aversol: Probably Convent/Corruption or both at once

Ever Forest: The urge to make a world wide web joke is so very high. Probaby High Elves due to them being tantalizingly close but also far too protected

Great Plains: Nobles getting degraded

Dreadsea Coast: Given all the brothels and vast variety already available, likely something overly romantic and with a plot to really get invested in, also they'd probably be the ones making it for the other regions, and there's likely some porn shows with an audience to be found

Deep Mountains: They like to get out into the fresh air and touch grass too much to bother with porn

[ From the Discord : ] Are there beauty pageants in the city?

- - Beauty Pageants are certainly a thing, not just for ladies either, and yes that sounds like a great unexplored avenue for assignment fodder

[ From the Discord : ] are there any widely played boardgames in the world of NH?

- - Definitely yes on the board games, though they haven't caught on as much due to the expense of acquiring one, as card games of which there's a dizzying numbers of.

So you'll only likely find them in the possession of the richer types as a status symbol.

[ From the Discord : ] What's the discovery that hits the sweet spot between "utterly baffling to those that found it" but would be completely mundane to like, us? like gym equipment or something

- - explosives that actually do something cause a certain amount of awe, they are incredibly hard to transport without losing potency, and so only the really well funded mining guilds can afford to make use of them. It's so rare and so unlike what can be accomplished that some nobles will pay to come along and watch the devestation

[ From the Discord : ] hmm, which race, not counting the fel, would you say is publicly viewed as the most "dangerous" correctly or not

- - witches, absolutely witches

there's posters in most town saying if you see a black pointy hat to report the sightings to your friendly town guard

other than that depends who you ask, you could probably get someone to say pretty much any race deoending on their experiences

also lago'mae but that's mainly as either they won't have heard of them or they just wonder what the one they might have seen was up too

demi-angels too I guess, though they're more 'in danger'

only exceptions seen as 'mostly harmless' are probably the hakh

[ From the Discord : ] Speaking of Oozes, how "in control" of their bodies are they? Like could a sufficiently determined Ooze go full Mystique and mimic anything she sees - aside from, like, still being see-through

- - reasonably so but they do have a preffered form they need to revert to where their body is at ease

anything they do that's not that requires a certain strain, it might be minimal but eventually it adds up like holding a book out in front of you

but yes there's like the equivalent of ooze body builders who can perfectly mimic someone's body and facial features for a time, though y'know still being green and translucent

[ From the Discord : ] how long can Lamia get?

- - not that big, hmm say can bring themself up taller than an ogre, and with a tail length at least as long again as that

though most aren't that long

[ From the Discord : ] Do the various beastie races integrate their traits into beauty standards? Shiny scales are attractive on lamia, neko appreciate a fluffy tail, horned ones like big horns, etc.

- - lamia aren't too bothered about scales as long as they're not too uncared for, mermaids though absolutely are, and yes horned ones very much believe the bigger, the more curly the horns the better

[ From the Discord : ] Assuming an average member of the race, which race is the least bothered about being enslaved?

- - probably neko? They're used to people thinking they can take advantage of them

and will often play along if it sounds fun

though full on enslavement is going to get even the most ditzy neko thinking they deserve more respect than that

[ From the Discord : ] Which races tend to be the most solitary, and due to preference instead of rarity and all that?

- - driders are the obvious one, as they tend to either be a loner doing their own thing, or a single mother raising a couple of driderlings at most

not counting leviathan though

they love it there and so have congregated far more than is usual for them

[ From the Discord : ] I'm sure you answered this way back, but if Aversol is like NH Vegas, what are the other 2 main cities like

- - hmm I wouldn't see Aversol is Vegas, I'd say if you can think of a city with a bit of a chip on their shoulder (naming no names as I'm sure you can think of your own national examples) due to not being the biggest, not being the wealthiest, and certainly not the best located but think they're better than they're given credit

Quinelles is Aversol with it's act more together, it's actually on the coast, it's got much cleaner streets, and everything is just that bit more glam and shiny. Though it's also got more of a troubled recent history within living memory as it has been sacked, and there have been incidents locally that have scared the locals so they tend to be a bit less relaxed

Leviathan is weird, people don't tend to stay long, as you either jive with living on an unimaginably big sea monster corpse or you don't

[ From the Discord : ] Is the local l-ball team the most victorious though? That's everything. that. counts.

- - ooh tricky let's say the division is curently close between a team from the drow city under the deep mountains, and one owned by a dwarf also from the deep mountains and so there's a lot of interest and rivalry

though that's just the local league and neither are expeted to do much against the teams from further north

[ From the Discord : ] Is are there kaiju equivalents in NH? like is there a Gidorah/Godzilla adjacent mythos?

- - there's evidence of them but the biggest creature people have actually seen are the bigs and mermen

[ From the Discord : ] seeing as how Lago'Mae's are the most recently found race, are there as of yet undiscovered races? (don't have to name names)

- - there are races that people don't know about usually like gorgons, but even in those cases there's going to be plenty who do based on location like in the frost wastes everyone knows about them

looking at my races to do list, scorps would be one of those people know all about them in the sands, but outside of it people would be rather scared by the concept actually existing

spotted newps would be another where those living on the edges like wastelanders know they're a thing, but outside it'd rare to have heard of them

[ From the Discord : ] What's the setting's Florida equivalent I.E. has a lot of bizarre stories come out of it

- - you know what? Totally this region where the game is set, the deep mountains is totally blamed for being a weirdness magnet

that's one of the reasons Aversol people have a complex, and will say things like '"we're not that got close to those mountains, really"

and get pouty when relatives refuse to visit

[ From the Discord : ] Everyone seems to be more or less ok with the status quo, is there any race that is actively trying to rock the boat?

- - probably lago'mae actually as they have a genuine agenda which is why they've made themself known for the first time in the last couple of decades

they're unsure of what they need to do, or to who, but they have something to do and they do not care whose toes they need to step on to do it, tail either if toes do not apply

[ From the Discord : ] Does the mermaid update come with a Suspiciously Large Crab (Bea) trait

- - ...why must you create more work for me, okay it does now :D

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sajdd · 3 years

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i will never understand people who try to seperate c!tommy and c!dream as if their stories and character progression arent interwoven with each other

their dynamic is so interesting and tragic...

they used to genuinely be friends, brothers even. dream would antagonise tommy a lot, he would break his own rules and do things to get on tommy's nerves to play with him, but back then we all saw it as some light-hearted fun, its how tommy saw it too. he had fun in this little play-war they had going on

and then came wilbur. then came lmanberg. and suddenly he was spending more time around his actual brother. he was actually fighting against dream, it wasn't just play anymore. so then came the declaration of independence, and so came the declaration of war. the burned down house, the blown up land, the final control room, the duel, the trade.

but tommy didn't truly hate dream, not yet. but dream’s motives were so unclear, what was the truth? and what was a lie? switching sides so many times, trying to push away the blame from himself, wanting to support tommy in taking back l’manberg to helping wilbur blow up the whole place and teaming with schlatt. and so came the final battle of pogtopia and manberg, there were no winners that day but there was hope. they survived, and tommy would get his disks back from dream.

and then came exile. nothing would ever be the same for them. dream wanted tommy all to himself, and if that meant he had to cut off his contact with everyone else and quite literally beat it into his head that he is tommy's only friend? well.. some sacrifices have to be made. he'll come around eventually... and he did! but then dream pushed him too far and he ran away.

tommy was under technoblade's protection for a while, but dream couldnt afford to waste his favour on that. so he waited, and he planned. their alliance was short-lived anyway, as soon as tommy realised what he truly cared about it was over. naturally, he was going to side with the blood god himself. i mean, what better way to rub his victory into tommy’s face. his expression was priceless! this kid is just too much fun.

and he'll roam free for now, until their final battle. he'll get rid of that pest called tubbo and he can finally put tommy somewhere he cant escape from :) but then punz shows up and drags the rest of the server with him. betrayed. and tommy has the upper hand now- except. he has also secret card up his sleeve. the revive book. tommy wont get rid of him if he can potentially bring back his beloved brother.

and while dream is stuck rotting in prison, tommy starts healing. he gets better. but.. its so weird without dream. so why not visit him! to rub his victory in his face and show how much better everything is without him. how much better he's doing. he's here to rub it in his face and not because he still feels so lonely and dream is his friend and please god why wont someone love me- and the hotel is going great, he's inviting people and healing and noone comes except for the people trying to kill him but he's still friends with tubbo even if they're drifting apart and he has ranboo and why am i being replaced what did i do wrong and he goes to visit dream for the final time, its really time to put an end to this.

and then there's explosions. muffled through the obsidian walls surrounded in lava. the inescapable, unbreakable, impenetrable prison is being blown up. and dream is laughing. and dream is not surprised. and tommy is stuck with dream, because sam wont let him out its protocol and he’s stuck with dream and itll be just like exile tommy.

but he manages to survive, he cant breathe and the walls are closing in and he just wishes someone would come save him at least this one time but nobody comes. and dream is talking of partnership and running away together but there is no "us", tommy's going to get out of here and dream will die sad and alone and i bet the revive book isnt even real- and then he's screaming for help but it comes too late. he's being ripped apart and all he knows is pain and void and oh god its wilbur again. he exists in this darkness for 2 months before getting dragged back to life by the devil himself.

and there will be no more normal ever again. even the slightest pain reminds him of dying and limbo and wilbur and we can be immortal together tommy! and oh my god he has to kill dream no one should have that much power and wilbur cant come back-

and of course wilbur comes back. because he fucked up. tommy fucked up and now sam is angry, and tubbo and ranboo are angry and ghostbur is dead and wilbur is back and dream is alive rotting in that prison and why cant i just have peace for one moment what did i do to deserve this

and then his brother proclaims dream a hero. and why would he say that he knows what he did to me why would he say that

and so dream waits for wilbur to come. he knows he'll visit, he's indebted to him, he will be SO grateful for bringing him back. and if he can control wilbur then he can control tommy. and they can be friends again.

and maybe its time tommy accepted he cant run away from dream. for as long as he’s alive they are destined to be together. after all, he is tommy's friend. the one constant throughout this whole story. they have too much fun together. he was the one person who was there when no one else was. and no matter how much he hates it, somewhere deep down he still cares about dream and it makes him feel sick. but once tommy has love for you in his heart he can never really let go of it, no matter how much you might hate him or hurt him, he will still love you, remembering the good times, the fun times. and that's all dream wants doesn't he? he just wants to have fun.

(sorry this was so long idk what came over me also my thought process in the tags)

#lmao sorry this is so long and rambly #i started off wanting to explain smth but i basically ended up writing a fanfic #this is supposed to be messy btw #ITS MENTAL ILLNESS INNIT #their dynamic is just so interesting because of how it descended into this unhealthy obsession dream has with tommy and what he did to him #but he genuinely cares for him but in this.. sick and twisted way #and we know how tommy is with those he cares about. he never really stops caring #and he forgives #even if hes pissed off #its a tragic dynamic and its so interesting #it all falls apart so terribly #so dont seperate these two characters and stories because they are vital to each others development and story progression #just. so interesting #and horrifying #this was fun to write even if im shit at writing #long post #tommyinnit #dream smp #dreamwastaken #c!tommy #c!dream #c!dream critical #this isnt rlly critical but i dont want the apologists to come after me because i dont woobify dream lmao

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

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could I get 49 for the prompts pleaseeee? (:

*weeping* Em, I love you, defending my honour, giving me a way out. You’ve spared me my dignity.

49. “Well this is awkward ...”

WC: 2106

Tidings and Tarradiddles

Jaskier returns to Posada and his path crosses with Geralt’s once more after the unfortunate affair on The Mountain™

How was it? Truly, how was it that of all places on the great, wide Continent, Geralt should come to take a contract in Posada, at the farthest of reaches, after months and months of separation, on the one day Jaskier should be in town? And how was it that he’d come the only hour Jaskier had lingered for a drink? It was too great a coincidence, and Jaskier would not give Destiny the credit. She’d not earned the right to claim it. Jaskier scorned her and had stripped her of the right to interfere in any of his further adventures. After all, Geralt had blamed him for her follies—follies which, by rights, Geralt had brought upon himself in the first place.

Even so, he could feel Destiny’s audaciously long and twitchy nose poking about his business the moment Geralt walked through the tavern door. Jaskier huddled in his corner, hoping the shadows were darker than they had been the day he’d found Geralt hunched beneath them. He ought to have known better than to come in the first place. There had been a whole flock of magpies in the middle of the bridge leading into town—a tiding of magpies. Detestable harbinger of tidings, foul and fair. They’d startled at the sight of him and alighted once more on the tavern roof. But he’d ignored their superstitious warning.

Of course the shadows were of no use to him. The moment Geralt stepped inside, Jaskier saw him twitch, cocking an ear his direction. Probably heard the familiar grinding of his teeth: an annoying habit he so often complained of. Jaskier curled up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller to blend in with his surroundings.

For once, it was not so difficult. He’d grown out his hair, had even maintained a healthy bit of scruff on his face in keeping with the stylings of his fellow tavern-goers. He was tired and worn, but above all, he was plain. He no longer wore bright colors, standing out like a beacon in the dark of night. He wore his linen dyed a plain, sensible, muted green. The jerkin on his back was brown and of a practical fit. Altogether, it did not so much scream of sensibility as it mumbled. If he kept his head low enough, he might pass as just another local come in for a pint.

But he was not just another local.

Geralt stopped before his table, standing at Jaskier’s elbow. The click of metal upon the table made Jaskier look up from his drink. It was a coin, spinning round and round. It wobbled and fell on its face, the etching of a worn coat of arms before him.

“Will … will you sing for us, bard?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier stared at the coin. His ears began to fill with cotton, a faint ringing in them. A flash of hot blood coursed through him and he ground his teeth to a halt. He knew this was Geralt’s way of easing into things, working towards something, whether or not an apology was waiting at the end. He knew this was Geralt offering him an out. It was distant. Impersonal. But even in the depths of his rage, Geralt had called him by name. To call him bard and toss a coin to him like some stranger now … it flamed something red and barbaric to life under his skin. He was so deafened by the blood in his ears, he did not hear the approach of the figure standing at Geralt’s side.

“Well, this is awkward,” Jaskier sneered. He picked up the coin, twiddling it between his fingers. Putting up an impassive mask, he juggled the coin over his knuckles in his best impressive manner, as if it were nothing but a worthless toy. “You see,” he said, “I’m not a bard.”

Geralt was quiet a moment. Jaskier could feel his eyes roaming over him. It raised his hackles to know what Geralt must see: the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of age now more pronounced with exhaustion, crow’s feet so defined they might as well have been dug by the claws of vultures. And then, Geralt must have taken notice at last. Gone were the bold silhouettes and blinding colors, gone were the perfumes and oils—but there was one thing more important than all the rest that was missing.

“Your lute,” Geralt said.

There it was. “Gave it up this very afternoon,” Jaskier replied. He slapped the coin down on the table and leaned back, snatching up his half-empty mug. “I travelled a long way to return it home; Filavandrel has it now.”

He took a drink, still avoiding eyes contact. He continued, mumbling over the rim of his mug. “Had a visit. They’re doing better than they were when last we met. I helped them dig rocks from their crop fields for an hour or two. Figured as long as I was shovelling things, I might as well master the art. Use it productively.”

He was being petty. He knew he was, but by the gods, he’d earned it.

When at last he looked up, he did so because he saw a hint of blue beside the table. The potmaid had been wearing a blue dress, and he thought he now saw his escape. He slid his mug to the edge of the table and lifted his head to ask for it to be taken away when he saw a familiar pair of green eyes looking back at him.

“Cirilla?” he asked, surprised. He blinked at the princess, who looked down at the table as his eyes fell upon her. He remembered her as someone taller, regal head held high, smiling, her hair half up in decorative braids and twists. This was not a princess before him, but a girl: her hood casting shadows upon her hollow face. It seemed wrong. She had always been a girl, but a girl with a name. This creature before him stood as a reflection of himself, a thing wishing to hide away, nothing more than a shell.

She glanced up at him, then down once more. Slowly she raised her hand to the table and placed it over the coin. She pushed it towards him with a quiet slide, then dropped her hand once more. “He said you sing wonderful,” she muttered, as if she had not heard him singing in Cintra’s court nearly every midsummer since birth.

Jaskier’s voice stuck in his throat. The memory of a song sat heavy on his tongue. “I … I don’t sing anymore,” he grit out. He turned to look away again, staring at the crack between his bench and the wall. “Can’t sing without music anyway. Might as well be poetry.”

Having no music left him exposed. There was nothing to lift him up, nor anything to hide behind. He could sing among the crowd and raise his voice to join a drinking song, but there was something vulnerable about singing alone. Who sang among bar patrons without some barrier? Even the drunks had their drink to shield them.

He saw Geralt shift out of the corner of his eye. Something new slid across the table, stopping just short of his hand. He looked and saw one of his old notebooks.

“You write good poetry,” Geralt said.

Jaskier scoffed and picked up the notebook. “If there were anything in this worth keeping, I would have remembered to bring it with me when I went down the mountain.” He flipped through the pages, then let the notebook flop back on the table. “You obviously have poor taste,” he huffed.

Without warning, Geralt picked up the notebook and thwacked him on top of his head with the cover.

“Gah! Hey!” Jaskier shouted. He stood up and snatched the book back, smacking Geralt’s arm with it. “What in fuck’s name did you do that for, you brute!”

But he’d looked at Geralt, forgetting to snub him if only a moment. And Geralt plucked the book from his hand with an upward quirk of the lips. “It’s worth keeping,” he said. He handed the book to Ciri, who clutched it tight to her chest in agreement, but still, she looked at Geralt with a stern expression.

“That wasn’t what you were supposed to say,” she scolded.

Geralt’s eyes rolled back and he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Not to me.”

Geralt opened his eyes. He looked at Jaskier, opening his mouth to speak once more. But the look on Jaskier’s face stopped him. Instead, he turned to the door, stalking quickly across the room, words aborted on his tongue.

Jaskier gaped.

“Geralt!” Ciri called. “Where are you going?”

“Just wait here.”

“Geralt!”

“Dinner. I’ll be back in the hour.”

Ciri threw up her hands and dropped onto the opposite bench. She slammed Jaskier’s notebook down on the table and crossed her arms over it. She groaned in frustration, then turned her head to look out at the tavern floor.

“Have you had dinner yet?” she grumbled.

Jaskier looked between her and the door, feeling quite at a loss. “No,” he replied.

“Then you can eat Geralt’s share.” She rummaged in her cloak and pushed a little drawstring bag into his hands. “Here, he left me his purse.”

“And left you from the look of things. Shall I charge him for babysitting?”

“Do. And order another drink.”

Jaskier snorted. “Trying to get me to stay?” He wasn’t so irresponsible as to leave a child alone, even with the threat of Geralt’s return. He didn’t need to be persuaded.

“No. Punishing him for running out; you get his drink into the bargain. Think of it as sending him to bed without supper.”

“I’ll drink to that. It’s the least of the punishments I could inflict.”

They both chuckled mildly at that. A bit of the dense atmosphere lifted and they shared a look. Jaskier cleared his throat and waved for the potmaid. He ordered fare for the two of them, a mug of ale for himself, and a cup of small beer for Ciri. Once they’d both had a bite, they began talking. They traded stories: how Ciri came to Geralt’s care, and what Jaskier had been doing since the separation. Though the conversation was tense, it felt … good … to have a bit of company. He’d been worried since word of the fall of Cintra had reached him. At least Destiny had brought Ciri to Geralt safely. He hoped Destiny would be kind to her where it had failed him.

Jaskier startled when Geralt returned. He’d crept up so silently. Jaskier had been listening to Ciri describe her most recent success in outdoor cooking and hadn’t noticed the movement beside him. Geralt set the lute on the table in front of Jaskier’s empty plate with a sudden thunk, not a word of explanation. He stood there silently, holding the lute upright by its neck.

No one spoke.

Jaskier simply stared at it, felt Geralt stare at him. But this time, he refused to look up. Slowly, Geralt lay the lute down on the table, then slipped away. A minute passed, everything still and quiet. Then, Jaskier peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Geralt nudge Ciri, nodding his head toward the door.

Ciri looked at Jaskier, her brow anxious and furrowed. She clutched her cup, nearly finished, her plate barren. He could see her mind at work, trying to find an excuse to stay. But she set her cup down obediently. As she turned to stand, she left the notebook behind. Eyes downcast, she slumped to her feet. Geralt held out his hand for her, no longer looking at Jaskier. The moment Geralt’s back was turned, Jaskier felt a cold panic run through him.

“Wait!” he said, fumbling to his feet.

Geralt froze, turning his head back slightly to listen.

But for what? Jaskier reached out, hesitating. He picked up his lute, finding the coin beneath it. The noise made Geralt turn back and Jaskier met his eye. He’d never seen Geralt look so blank, completely unreadable.

Jaskier slung the strap of the lute over his head. He pushed the coin deliberately into his pocket and braced his hands on the strings. When he looked at Geralt again, there was the barest crack in his armour, and hope shined dimly through. Jaskier smiled. It was a timid thing, but he still remembered how it was done.

“You asked for a song,” he said.

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#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ask game #tidings and tarradiddles fic #the whole situation LEADING to the WRITING of this fic is awkward asdfghjkl #than you em #bless you #pancakes' tag

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loousir · 3 years

Text

[Elf] Royal Secrets

Secret Elf King x Royal Second Hand Reader

Faelynn

Warnings: Smoochin, tavern talks, time skips, uhh

Masterlist

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You ran and hand through your hair with a sigh, sitting down on the bar chair with a soft 'plop'. The bartender looked to you with a fond and familiar smile. "Rough day again (Y/n)?" He asked while pulling out a glass from one of the cabinets. "I sometimes think my days will get better but I guess not. He is not fun to deal with... Especially when he's in a bad mood." The bartender smiled again and set a drink down in front of you.

"Well, just relax for tonight. You don't have any tasks for tomorrow do you?" You took a sip of the drink and smiled softly before that disappeared. "No, I don't. But I've got an important meeting day after tomorrow so I have to spend some time finalizing documents and getting ready for it."

"And by some time you mean the whole day? I get that..." A voice two seats over spoke, making both you and the bartender look to him. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I'm Lynn." You smiled and introduced yourself as well which lead to the bartender walking off and making drinks for a group that had came in.

You and Lynn hit it off instantly. Both of you talked about various things related to your, work, if you will and you never thought you could fall for someone upon first meeting but...

'I just might have...'

"Lynn, I have a question." He hummed as he took a sip from his own drink. "How often do you come here? I've noticed you a few times before but I've never actually heard you talk to anyone." Lynn smiles softly and sets his cup down. "I try to come as often as I have time. And I've not talked to anyone cause their conversations haven't quite caught my attention like yours." You smiled and looked down to your hands that were intertwined around the small cup that you have.

You sighed and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind the bar. "Damn, I have to get going." You looked over to Lynn who had looked up to the clock as well.

'Woah, he's an elf? No wonder he's so beautiful.'

You though as you stared at him. He looked back to you and tilted his head slightly. "Are you ok (Y/n)?" His question had pulled you from your thoughts, making you blush and chuckle. "Yes, sorry. Is there a possibility I could see you again?" Lynn nods. "I'll be available to come pretty often but after this month I won't be able to for a little. It's when things bet busy for me unfortunately." He said with a sad tone and a soft sigh. You smiled and shook your head, slipping off of the chair and walking over to him.

He watched you walk over and grab his hand. You gently kissed his knuckles, keeping eye contact which made him blush slightly. "Til next do we meet Lynn. I look forward to it." You said gently letting his hand linger for a moment before letting him take it back. Lynn smiled and said a soft goodbye as he gently held the hand you kissed as you walked out of the bar.

'What an interesting character...'

•

--- •

The month that Lynn was available seemed to have passed in a flash. The two of you grew much, much closer than I'm sure either of you would've thought. Admittedly, neither of you had met outside of the tavern but, neither minded. This was a place both of you knew and could enjoy. You had been thinking about Lynn frequently. He was talking about something that had happened at his job which made you think.

'What just is his job? Maybe it's similar to mine with the way he talks about things.'

You thought to yourself, zoning out from what Lynn was saying. A soft hand grabbing your own, instantly snapping you from your thoughts. You looked down to his hand, gently grabbing yours. You smiled and held his hand in yours. "Sorry, I was lost in my own head again." You looked over to him to see he wasn't as smiley as you which made your smile fade. "Are you ok Lynn?" He holds on to your hand tighter and pulls it up to his lips, pressing them gently against the back of your hand.

"This may be the last day we get to see eachother for a while." The look you saw in his eyes made you want to cry. He looked so heart broken that he couldn't come see you anymore. "You two can use the spare room upstairs if you need a private place to talk." The bartender said. You looked over to them and nodded. "Thank you," You looked back to Lynn. "Would you like to?" You asked him. He nodded and both of you slipped off the chairs and you lead him to the room.

You flicked on the light and let him step into the room before closing the door behind him. Right as you turned back to him, he connected his lips to yours to which you instantly responded. You gently pressed yourself against him and held onto his hips as his slim fingers caressed your face and hair as if he would never be able to feel them again.

"Lynn," You spoke his name the second the both of you pulled away, both of you panting softly. His bright blue eyes gazed deeply into yours. "I want you to keep coming here, even if I'm not. I'll do what I can to come as often as possible. I wish we could meet at other places but..." Lynn looks away and hesitates heavily on what he was about to say. "It's ok..." You said with a small smile as he looks back to you.

"I'll keep coming. Just don't forget about me."

Lynn smiles as tears well up in his eyes before he collapses into you, hugging you tightly. You hugged him back just as tight. "You're very emotional all of a sudden. Did you have too much to drink?" You joked making him give a few small giggles. He pulled away and wiped his face before looking up to you, smiling. "It's been a very, very long time since I've felt this way and since I've had someone like you in my life." Lynn spoke softly as you navigated both of you over to the bed.

You sat Lynn down first before joining him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "(Y/n)?" You hummed and looked at the reflection of the two of you in the full-body mirror mounted on the wall. Your eyes seemed to have meet and you smiled, making Lynn blush and glance away. "I think we look really good together. Maybe one day we should make it official." Lynn looks up to you with a surprised yet slightly sad and scared look.

"That's up to you though." You said looking down to him with a smile. He didn't say anything but kissed you again, pushing you down on the bed and hovering over top of you. He rested his head on your shoulder and you gently kissed his pointed ears, making him shiver.

That eventually turned into a small makeout session but Lynn pulled away first, having you trail behind slightly not wanting to stop. You glanced at the clock above the door and sighed heavily.

"It seems it's our time to part huh?" You said looking to him as he got off of you. He nodded, which lead you to gently neaten his hair. Lynn leaned into your touch for a moment before taking you hand and kissing it gently, much like you did him when you first met. You smiled and held his hand as you lead him from the room, turning off the light before walking him out to the front doors of the tavern.

Both of you walked down the stone path out to the stables. Lynn always rode a horse to the tavern, which you have also become close with. You leaned in and kissed his lips softly. When both of you pulled away he waved you off and watched as you walked away.

'Til we meet again my dear.'

• --- •

You kept coming back to the tavern, keeping your nightly routine of checking Lynn's seat only to find it empty. You were only slightly disappointed, knowing that he would show up eventually. Your bartender friend smiled and placed a drink down in front of you. "I'm sure you two will meet again soon." He mumbled out before disappearing into the kitchen. You couldn't help but let your gaze linger a moment on the kitchen door, as if his words heald more meaning than you knew.

You spent most of the time thinking about an upcoming meeting you had with the King of the neighboring nation Elfendale. Your "job" is the second hand to the King of your own nation and he had tasked you with speaking to the other King in order to conduct an official alliance and go over some trade stuff. This tavern was on the border to both nations. Half of it was in yours and half was in the other.

The original arrangements were made by you and your neighboring counterpart on how the place would pay taxes and all those fun business things. Before you knew it, your time to leave had come.

'I sure hope this all goes well...'

---

The day finally arrived that you were to go to meet the King of Elfendale. You rode your horse into the town, catching the gazes of many. You had only two guards with you as the three of you rode up to the castle gates. The guards stopped you and asked to state your business. "(Y/n) (L/n), second hand to King Hervé. I'm here on official business." One guard looked to a list before nodding to the other to let the three of you in. Two other guards came and escorted you to put your horse in the royal stables while the other guided your guards to rest while you went in by yourself.

A certain horse in the stables seemed awfully excited to see you, this also caught the guards attention. "Have you met Whinefred before?" You were confused before shaking your head, playing it off. He nodded and put your horse into a stable before leading you up to the large front doors of the castle.

A man in a robe holding a scroll welcomed you in and walked you to the throne room.

"Attention please!" His voice called out to the room. You hadn't looked up from your satchel as you were looking to make sure if all the documents were there. "We welcome (Y/n) (L/n) to our humble castle. He is here for King Hervé since he was unavailable." You smiled and looked up with your eyes closed. 'He's not unavailable, just lazy.' You thought to yourself.

You finally opened your eyes to see an extraordinary familiar face. You contained the shocked expression on your face as the robed man kept talking and leading you towards the other. "-meet, King Faelynn." You looked over to the robed man and asked him with a hushed tone. "Does he have a twin?" The man shook his head. You looked up to Faelynn, shocked. Faelynn seemed quite content in this moment, happy even.

Faelynn stepped down from his throne and walked over to you. "Let's go discuss these in private." He said, motioning to the satchel who's strap you were clutching onto for dear life. You couldn't say anything but simply nodded.

Faelynn lead you to another large door and the guard who stood next to it, opened it for the both of you. Once the two of you were inside and the doors had closed, Faelynn crashed his lips against yours to which you instantly responded. Your hands found their way to his hips, pulling him closer to you.

"I think I've got some explaining to do." Faelynn said right as you pulled away. You nodded, still shocked. You moved yourself away from him and set the satchel down on the grand table behind both of you. He lead you over to a pair of chairs and had you sit before sitting next to you.

"To start, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. That's been one of the few places I can go and just be myself. I've never liked getting treated like a King but I inherited the throne from my father when I was pretty young so that may have been a reason why."

Faelynn held onto your hand and traced his thumb over your knuckles. "I never thought I would fall in love with someone, let alone someone I had just met in a tavern." He said with a soft chuckle, making you smile. You watched his eyes as he continued to speak. "I had seen you few times prior to that and I guess just listening to you I became, infatuated, and as we had started to chat I realized that I had fallen for you."

You smiled and pulled his hand closer to you, carefully removing the glove that framed his slim fingers nicely. You set the glove on the table and you gently kissed his hand, making him blush. "Faelynn." You spoke his full name out loud, making him get goosebumps. "Its odd saying your full name after calling you Lynn for so long." You said with a small chuckle. Faelynn intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Do you remember how you said we should make it official one day?" Faelynn asked, looking up to your eyes. You watched as he smiled more and kept your eyes looking to his. You felt something rather warm slip onto one of your fingers. "As an official alliance between Elfendale and Chroles. Soon to be King, (Y/n) (L/n), would you be mine?" You stared at the silver band that had been placed onto your finger.

Neither spoke for a moment but you looked up to him and pulled him into a kiss. Faelynn kissed back and interlocked your fingers again. Tears welled in your eyes as the two of you pulled away. "As both a personal benefit and an official alliance, I will be yours." Faelynn giggled and pecked your lips again.

"Let's get these papers figured out so we can start planning our wedding."

---- 2433 Not very proof read, may re-write and separate into parts

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male x male reader #monster male #m4m #mxm

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ps-i-dont-even-know · 3 years

Text

Devil may cry parent headcanons

Dante

He probably is a fun dad but at the same time don't leave your kids with him, it would be a disaster

Will wake up to crying at 12 am and try to put the kid back to sleep, ends up with both of them watching tv instead

This man will do anything with your kid, they want to go to the park, sure he'll have to keep an eye on them. They want to see the movies, sure has to be below pg or he will never hear the end of it from the nightmares his kids have. Want to go to the zoo, sure he just needs to make sure they don't go into the exhibit.

He will play dress up and tea time with them. He will put on a dress and have them do his makeup just so he can go to tea time, and might start some beef with Mr teddy for stealing his cupcakes, but he will do it proudly.

He will try to do their hair in the morning for school, again he is not the best at it and will probably give them crooked pigtails, he's trying he really is.

Can't cook for shit, I'm sorry if you think he could cook please take a look at all the pizza box stored around his shop. Like he will take cooking lessons or watch cooking shows but dear god how do you set fire to milk.

He will always be there for his kid to vent even if he doesn't know how to respond he will sit and let them rant about stuff, also trying to cheer them up because he doesn't want to see them sad

If they brought their homework to him he would be confused he can barely pay his bills i don't think he knows how to do math, but drama he will rock that stuff his acting skills are on point even if it's cheesy

Will waste all his money on the kid, toys, clothes, video games, you name it he will buy it and give to the kid

Remember how I said not to leave your kid alone with Dante yeah, he may or may noteave his weapons/devilarms around for the kids to grab them, like halfway of Dante walking into the main room and he sees ebony in his kids mouth he tricksters all the way to them and quickly grab ebony before anything bad happens, but the kid will start crying and he has to find something for them to mess with or he'll get a headache

He accidently devil triggered in front of his kid now depending on which one he get two responses and he's expecting screaming for both, but if its regular dt like humanish looking one, "woah, dad grew scales and wings, are you a lizard king?" Now its his Sin Dt he would get "Oo, daddys a gaint dragon" for both case they will proceed to touch his scales? And will be all over him trying to climb him to the point he literally has to switch out of dt so they don't get hurt. Also he's a heat source for winter if the heating doesn't get paid for.

If his kid comes out as any of the lgbtq+ he would be supportive and loves them for who they are, I also see him being apart of it too.(I know a few people see him as asexual I do too, as well as bisexual)

Vergil

Look this guy probably has no clue what he's doing, even if we wish he could've taken care of Nero (at least I do) he didn't and now he has another kid to take care

Please help him hold the baby, he can't properly do it at all, he's just holding them by their chest and staring at them with confusion as the child cry, "why won't they stop screaming?"

He will get the hang of taking care of the kid, but please don't leave him alone with them for long he still has no clue what he's doing half the time

"Hey can I hang out with (insert name) at the mall?", "Do I know their mom?", "Uh, no", "Do I know their dad?", "No" Then that settles it, you can't go", "But-", "No buts, if I don't know their parents you can't go, and that's finale"

Can he cook, probably but he's been in hell for most of his life and doesn't know what he's doing half the time. Thank god for cooking shows and book he at least tries a learn how to cook, and doesn't burn anything unlike someone else

He will read the kids William Blake or other bed time stories before bed time, and will do activities where they try to make up poems he has to thank Nero for the idea

Speak of Nero, if Vergil has a mission he will leave his kids with him, he's not trusting Dante at all. Nero absolutely loves his step siblings even if their like a few years younger than him, they will either play with the other kids at the orphanages or play Nero which consist of Video games, sometimes sword fights if they beg long enough, or just talk about the stuff their dad and uncle does that are stupid and make fun of them for it.

Also that one dad to try and help with math homework but makes the kid cry because they don't understand the problem and he's yelling at them "What's 2 x 2?" Its traumatizing please someone tell him to cool it or his kid is going to have problems when it comes to yelling and math, also complains how he didn't learn it that way as a kid, I promise you he was homeschooled.

Now his kids can vent to him but he has no clue what to do nor have much good advice but he will give what he knows even if it's not the best.

This can go many ways, this man know his kid is getting bullied he will go down to the school with the Yamato and threaten someone's life, give his kid the sword for them to deal with it instead, or use some brain cells and deal with it like civil people and we hope he chooses the last one

Now he's a little careful with his devil trigger and doesn't want to scare his kids, but its by accident really and he expects screaming, just like Dante he gets two responses. Regular dt and I'm going off of 4 because I don't think he has one in dmc5, "Dad, why didn't you tell me/us your secretly a bug, don't worry well keep you away from shoes." If its Sin Dt, "Wow, your a dragon this whole time, does this mean I'm also a dragon, where do you keep your stashed gold?", I feel like for his regular dt they will sometimes smack him with a fyswatter and he has to turn out of his sin dt quickly because they want to mess with the fire coming out of him.

If his kids come out as lgbtq+ he will be supportive and a little confused because he has no clue what it is. They have to explain what it means and what their sexuality means, he'll still be supportive and loves his kids no matter what they are

Nero

Out of Vergil and Dante, he's probably the one who knows more about taking care of kids since he grew up with them in an orphanage and takes care of them

I feel he's like a mix between Dante and Vergil, Fun dad but will put his foot down on somethings

If its a girl you bet he will go out to a store at whatever time it is and buy then pad/tampon when their monthly comes no questions asked he just knows. If its a dude he will give the talk, not just protection but what not to do, like when a girl tells him to stop he needs to stop, no advancing on or anything like that (I feel like the no advancing will also go for the girl)

Doesn't do favoritism, he hates that stuff since he technically dealt with it as a kid, if one kid ask why he loves the other more than them he will shut that down quickly and tell them he loves them equally and will move moons for them to both be happy

Best cook hands down, and will let his kids help if they want to but keeps them away from sharp objects. He will also take them out to dinner if he doesn't want to cook

He's decent with homework, and goes about it in a fun learning experience for the both of them, if they get an answer right they get a point that they can trade for something special later kne, if they get it wrong they will go over it again, but still get a point because no favoritism. He also help make a volcano, but also put a little extra pizzazz to it, and might have caused the whole kitchen to be a different color now.

His kids can vent to him, he will understand and try to help give advice for some issues, also takes them out of the house to do something they want to do to cheer them up

He will encourage his kids to follow what they want to do, play a sport? He will show up to every game, even if that means giving Dante his mission he will. A club? He will make sure they have everything they need for that club and be on time for it, be it art, book, yearbook, student council, etc. They want to do boy scout/girl scout, he will make sure he gets them a vest and help put pins on as well. He will be the number one supportive dad

As soon as his kid comes to him crying about how some other kid is bullying them he will be mad, he'll reassuring his kid that they are amazing first, then go to the school, if they don't do anything he will go straight to the parent and make sure that their kid doesn't mess with his anymore.

Will watch anime with them, if they agree that is don't want your dad into your stuff. But like he's absolutely into it, he seems like the person to like Bleach (this was not intentional I complete forgot that the voice actor for Nero also did Ichigo) or Cowboy Bebop. Maybe sailor moon but you won't hear him say it

Look he's really new to the devil trigger business, the only thing close he had was that ghost creature, so keeping this thing in check and not popping up randomly is hard. His kids reaction are, "You hair is longer, are you like rapunzel, oh wait you have wings and a crown your an angel. Oh can I braid your hair please," of course he will let them braide his hair he can't say no to a pouting face, they also will poke his wings to see if their real.

He will definitely support his kid if their aprat of the lgbtq+, will buy them flags, merch, you name it. He want his kid to feel safe and loved

Lady and Trish

Look I can't separate these two, when I first saw them I thought they were girlfriends, and I can't let that go. But these two would definitely be the fun and protective mom

So considering Trish and Lady are both females they definitely have to adopt of course, now Lady may not know if its half demon or full, but Trish does and she probably would help the kid when they get older since she knows about the demon body considering she has one, if its human Lady knows the most about the stuff going on when they get older and has I already planned out.

Now Lady has to be the protective mom because the shit happen with her dad she definitely doesn't want anything bad to happen to their kid, and Trish is like you do you kid if you get hurt you learn from it "its the demon way of raising" she says. Though she still will watch over them and make sure they don't get themselves severely hurt

They will buy their kid anything, and take them out shopping. It's like a spin the wheel of pay to see if they will pay for the stuff or put it under Dante's name for shits and giggles

Lady has to like keep her weapons locked up somewhere safe, unlike Dante, she's more careful with her weapons

If their kid is mad or something Trish will take them to some deserted area with some random stuff she found that isn't in use and have their kid throw it in the air so she can blow it up with her lighting, you know to blow steam off

Trish or Lady tell their kid the stupidest thing Dante has done or said, if they visit Dante please note one will scream if Dante says something about a soul, "I should have been the one to fill your dark soul with Light" and get the voice crack right too, he will look so embarrassed

Now Trish might not know anything about homework she'll support the best she can but Lady knows most of the stuff and will help.

Trish will tell their king everything about Hell, who's in charge, what creatures are there, the history of it all. Its a great learning experience until you tell them that the female demons kill the male after finishing mating

If they are out in public and some guy is hitting on their kid and their tell him no, protective mom mode is on. Mostly Lady has to stop Trish from frying thr guy, but Lady will give the man a price of her mind saying if he tries to do this shit again with her kid he will be going home with a foot straight up his ass. So now no man tries to hit on her

Definitely let the kids go venting to them, they give the best cuddled, some good advice, and shopping if they say someone's bullying them they will see that the parent deals with their kid.

They knew their kid was apart of lgbtq+, of course their supportive of who they are, they are dating of course. They will take them to a pride march in June

Kyrie

Look, LOOK, she is an amazing mom, so caring but also will put her foot down on somethings

Besides Nero she is a good cook and baker, while she doesn't want kids in the kitchen while she's cooking will will have them help with baking sweet

Reads bedtime stories and tucks her kids in and kiss goodnight (ugh my heart hurts I love this)

She will play video games with her kids mostly on the wii, she still the champion on Mario Kart and Just Dance no one has taken their spot yet, even Nero tries

Packs lunch for her kids and puts a note in it telling them that she loves them and hope they have the best day

She does worry about them from time to time when they go over a friends house, only because of what happened to her brother and then Nero she doesn't want anything to happen to her kids

Tells them not to climb the tree in their backyard, what does one of them do, they climb it and accidently falls down. She goes to them saying "You know I told you not to do it, and you did it anyways, you need to be more careful and listen to me. I'm not doing this because I'm being uptight I'm doing this for your safety I want you to be able to do the things you want in the future"

I feel like she's the same way with friends like Vergil, if she doesn't know the parents then you can't go out or over their house

She is really a good listener and help with advice, so venting to her is a really great idea also will ask about your feelings and how your doing someday, like she knows your in a sad mood

She also good with homework, I feel like she wanted to become a teacher as well as study for it, but instead stuck with taking care of orphans, so she probably homeschools her kids too

She also makes the kids clothes time to time, they have little sweaters or shirts that are soft and comfortable

She is so supportive of her kids if they come out lgbtq+, she doesn't care as long as their happy thats all that matters.

Nico

Now I love Nico amazing and pretty girl but don't leave a child with her, just like Dante it will be a disaster, but she probably would try to be a better parent than her since he technically wa this weird freaky man who experimented on demons or was weird.

Let's start with teaching the kid every swear word she knows and tells them to go up to Nero call him one of those names, she will hear her name being screamed and find an angry Nero going over to her as she burst into fits of laughter

Will be extra pair of arms when getting a tool they need for fixing the van, when Nero does understand what a Dohicky is

I think Nico can cook, its decent not bad or good, she did nearly burn the van down from trying to cook turkey.

She will try and cut back on smoking or at least not doing it when the kid is around because its bad for them, Nero scoffs because she nags him when he tells her to stop, but not her kids

Now her kids could bring homework to her, like he's good in math, engineering, and probably biology, but she'll act as if she never even seen the stuff in her life, because she wants to get her learn it and not her just giving them the answer. But if their kid is in a science fair I bet she will help make something totally child friendly(its not really), it kind of gets her and her kid ban from doing anymore science fairs.

She will teach then everything she knows about Demon, mostly the biology of it, and when Nero brings a demon part for his breakers, she goes in explain how she turns them into those.

Will tease her kids if they talk about their crush, she's a huge teaser so saying something about someone they really like or anything its a mistake, she will embarrass them in front of their crush, but she means well

If they try to change the channel of the radio she swats their hand saying the driver picks the music and the passenger has to sit and listen.

If she's busy with something she will let Nero and Kyrie babysit her kids, she trust them and the kids love Nero and Kyrie.

Tries to teach her kids how to drive when their of age to learn, but Nero and Kyrie won't let her considering how she drives and that the instructor is more legal to do it.

No but she will tease her kid a bit if they come out lgbtq+ too, of course she supportive I kind of see her being apart of lgbtq+ as well

*Bonus because it seemed reasonable to just put this one here like this*

Nero, Dante, Vergil, Lady, Trish, Nico

They will teach their kid self defense, and how to use a weapon. While they rather their kids have a normal life instead of a demon hunter for many reasons, they at least want their kid to take care of themselves if they find themselves in a situation where their life is on the line

#devil may cry #devil may cry vergil #dante devil may cry #nero devil may cry #devil may cry headcanons #dmc kyrie #devil may cry nico #devil may cry lady #devil may cry trish #devil may cry headcanon

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bieddiediaz · 3 years

Text

humari adhuri kahani

our incomplete story.

this one brought to you by @alberthan, @diazchristopher, and yours truly. future fic, buck/eddie, unrequited love (sort of), angst.

It’s quiet. Buck would almost say too quiet, but the silence is nice sometimes.

(Especially when he’s here. Especially when he’s with Eddie.)

They’re working in tandem, Eddie rinsing off dishes and handing them to Buck, who dries them and puts them on the rack. It’s a routine they’ve followed a thousand times before – years and years of late nights, family gatherings, spending almost more time with each other than significant others. Something about the silence is tranquil, calming, and peaceful. It makes Buck want to lay himself bare in front of the one person who knows him inside and out.

Maybe that’s why it spills out of him tonight. After years of not addressing it, letting it sit between them, knowing but not speaking of it. Maybe the silence is what makes Buck honest. Things unsaid spilling over him like the water in the plate he’s rinsing.

He’s unnecessarily focused on drying the plate in his hands when he says, “You know what’s funny?”

Eddie looks at him curiously.

(Buck’s still staring at his plate.)

“I used to be in love with you.”

Eddie’s hands freeze where they’re rinsing off a bowl. He turns back to the sink. A moment passes; Buck sees a bitter smile creep up the edges of his face from the corner of his eye. There’s a pause before Eddie says, “I know.” Another pause. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Buck’s surprised Eddie wants to have this conversation, but, well. He was the one who opened this can of worms. He’s got no one to blame but himself. He shrugs once. “I suspected it. A part of me definitely did. But then… you were with Ana, and I found Taylor.” He pauses, thinking about her for a moment. She was supposed to be working late, but she’s probably home by now. Most likely settled in bed with her laptop, she has a presentation in two days. “I knew you didn’t love me back, so I thought it was best to move on. So we could both be happy.” Another pause. “We’re happy, aren’t we?”

(He hopes he doesn’t sound as plaintive as he feels.)

Eddie’s finally looking at Buck. Buck can’t stand to look at the pain and longing on his face. He has to avert his eyes as he hears Eddie say, “Yeah, Buck. We’re happy.”

(Buck almost wishes Eddie hadn’t said that.)

Silence settles over them once more. They get through most of the dishes before Eddie breaks it again. “After... the shooting in LA, after I broke up with Ana - actually, the reason I broke up with Ana - there was a period… where I was in love with you too.” He sighs. “But you had moved on, hadn’t you.”

(It wasn’t a question. Buck tries to come up with an answer anyway.)

(He wonders, briefly, why the only thing surprising about this conversation is that they’re actually having it.)

He knows Eddie can hear the regret in his voice when he settles on, “Yeah.”

Eddie turns off the tap and dries his hands as Buck puts the last bowl on the rack. He takes the towel from Eddie and wipes his own hands as they finally turn to face each other properly. It’s Eddie who speaks again. “You know, Hen and Chim, they told me once.”

Buck frowns. “Told you what?”

Eddie sounds almost wistful. “ I- I wasn’t very…subtle about my feelings for you. They sat me down one day and told me that you loved me too and I should just tell you. Be honest with you.”

Buck stiffens and realises he’s been holding his breath. He lets it out in a rush. “What did you say?”

“I told them that I knew you. Better than anyone. You loved me. You used to.I knew that you did. And that you don't anymore.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s smile is tight. He bumps his shoulder to his in a soft touch. “Hey, but we’re happy now.”

“Yeah. Happy.”

As if synchronised, they both move as one, pushing off the counter and walking to the living room; straightening up the remnants of the night and settling on the couch. Eddie picks up the remote and puts something on the TV.

(If asked, neither of them could tell you what it is.)

As he stares unseeingly at the TV, Buck can hear the echoes of Christopher’s laughter in the halls. He can feel the imprints of the years of memories, of coming home to Eddie, of Eddie coming home to him.

(The silence feels weighted now.)

He doesn’t know how much time has passed before he speaks again. “Eddie, I -”

Eddie cuts him off. “Don’t say it.”

Of course, Eddie knows him better than he knows himself. Eddie knows what he’s thinking, what he’s wondering.

Still, he wouldn’t be Buck if he knew where to quit. “Do you think about it? What could’ve been different?”

Eddie doesn’t respond for a long moment. They’re still not looking at each other. The moment stretches on, the air feels heavier.

“Maybe.”

Buck glances at him and turns his head back to the screen. He can feel his thoughts take a bitter turn. “I guess we were young and stupid anyway.”

Eddie's voice cuts the air like a knife. “My love for you wasn’t.”

Eyes wide, Buck turns to Eddie, just to find Eddie’s already looking at him, a terrible fire burning in his eyes. Buck tenses, but Eddie seems to deflate just as quickly. He sounds resigned as he says, “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”

Buck can’t breathe. “Or maybe we were, but we missed our shot.”

Eddie’s smile is sad now. “Maybe.”

They turn back to the TV together. Buck still doesn’t know what’s playing. “In another life, perhaps.”

(What was worse: their vow of silence stretching the space between them, or the words that filled those spaces?)

“We could’ve been really happy.” It’s so quiet Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

“Or we would’ve crashed and burned.”

Eddie lets out a short laugh. “I’d like to believe not. I have more faith in us than that.”

“Yeah.”

Buck’s quiet for another moment. “I keep wondering. I know I shouldn’t. What if. If we hadn’t missed our chance, we could’ve had it all. We could’ve had everything.”

Eddie’s silent.

Buck can feel his thoughts going in a million directions. He doesn’t know what to think. It’s nothing new, this conversation, but there’s something about voicing these not-secrets they’ve always kept buried that has him breathless.

(And yet, he still feels calm. He always does, when he’s with Eddie.)

That’s probably why he needs to voice this too. “But, Eddie… you know I love you, right? You’re my best friend.”

Eddie smiles softly. “Back at you.”

“And… whatever else could’ve happened, I wouldn’t trade your friendship for anything. No matter what.”

“I love you, too.”

(He does. Buck can feel it in his voice. It’s one thing Buck never doubted. Not once.)

(What was more painful: Eddie’s love for Buck, or the words he wished he’d said?)

Eddie’s not done. “And… I have everything I need. Getting to have you in my life, in whatever form, that to me is—everything I’ll ever want.”

Eddie’s fully looking at Buck now. “I’m sorry you had to hurt, though.”

Buck’s startled into laughter. “That’s not your fault.”

“I know. I’m still sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

(They're both older, a little wiser, a little softer, more settled around the edges and in their own skin. They should know better. they should know to move on. They have moved on. But…they can't help but want to fall into the familiarity of each other, that comfortable feeling of being home that they only ever got from each other.

They might have moved on from each other physically and in every way that seems to matter, but their hearts haven't caught the memo yet. They probably never will. Because their love for each other is an intrinsic part of themselves now, no matter their circumstances in reality. no matter how foolish or hopeless it may be.

They weren't what each other wanted now; but it was like an itch under the skin waiting to be scratched. The overwhelming feeling of a longing they once both knew.

And yet.

They just can't do anything about it. And they won't.

They have partners. Lives.

Timing is truly a bitch.)

They sit there until the TV screen fades to black, whatever they were not-watching rolls credits.

The silence feels lighter now. Buck doesn’t feel bad about breaking it. “We were so different back then. Two people trying to survive themselves, build a home. Maybe this is what we’re meant to be like.”

“Wondering about the what ifs?”

Buck nods.

“Incomplete.”

#911 #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #userdahlias #tuserksn #dailybuddie #humari adhuri kahani verse #ishawrites #thats a tag ig #anyway #blame this on alcohol #k tag #neethu tag

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generalobi · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I love your writing so much! If you don't mind id like more of the Obi Melida/Daan and Jango one, maybe with reactions from obi wan side of things?

Obi-Wan is beginning to think he should’ve thought this through more. At the time, it had seemed like a great idea. Mandalore was a warrior culture, yes, but they were also rich, diverse and in need of allies. He’d neglected to take into account the Mandalorian view on children. More specifically, the fact that they frowned upon child soldiers.

He remembers this pivotal detail as he shows them Cerasi’s monument (how she would hate it). More specifically, he remembers the moment Prince Fett asks how old Cerasi was.

“She was fourteen,” Daria answers, unconcerned by the many things she has just revealed to their ally.

Obi-Wan winces, wishing it was socially acceptable to face-palm in front of visiting diplomats. Not only is this going to cause problems in an official capacity, Obi-Wan was really starting to like Prince Fett and Ser Myles.

Neither of them react outwardly, but Obi-Wan can feel a strange mixture of outrage, resignation and sadness in the Force.

“She was very brave,” Prince Fett remarks, studying the monument closely.

“She was,” Obi-Wan inclines his head, “She fought for what she believed in. She fought for peace, there is nothing braver than that and no nobler fight.”

Daria gives him a look that he doesn’t acknowledge. He’d been very strict when instructing them all not to talk about fighting with the Mandalorions. Mandalore might no longer be at war, but her people are still warriors. MelidaDaan is done with fighting. But Obi-Wan will not let anything diminish what Cerasi sacrificed, or what she sacrificed it for.

“On Mandalore, the most noble fight is the fight for family,” Ser Myles says, “And she did that too.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t mention that Cerasi fought against her birth family, because in the end it doesn’t really matter.

The Manda’lor is coming.

Obi-Wan had been hoping that Prince Fett and Ser Myles had been happy to brush over Cerasi’s age, but clearly he was wrong. The Manda’lor is coming to MelidaDaan, and that can only mean that this allyship has gotten much more complicated. The trade deal has already been signed, but if Mandalore withdraws there’s nothing they can do. MelidaDaan has very little political power and they lack the resources to fight.

Daria is unimpressed, “They’re sending their leader because we have child soldiers? Obi, we’re literally all child soldiers. You were thirteen. Barely thirteen actually. I was eleven. We were the child soldiers. All the Elders are dead or dying. Or so fucked they’d rather seclude themselves on farms than engage with our government. We did nothing wrong.”

“I know that,” Obi-Wan says, “But the Manda’lor doesn’t. He probably thinks we force our children to fight.”

“Well then, we just have to set him straight.”

“You don’t just set the Manda’lor straight, Daria! He’s the chosen leader of a culture of vicious warriors who spend centuries fighting over which faction had the right to call themselves Mando’ade. Mandalorians are warriors who have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, especially when children are involved.”

Daria rolls her eyes, “I think you’re putting too much thought into this, Obi. If we tell him about the Elders and the war, he’ll be sympathetic! If they truly value children as much as you say they do then he’ll have to help us.”

Obi-Wan groans, knocking his head against his desk. He doesn’t know how to explain exactly what explaining everything that happened here will entail. He doesn’t know how to tell them that most of the galaxy would demand proof of their story, and that the Manda’lor will surely be no different.”

Daria gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, “Come on, idiot, let’s visit the babies. They always make you feel better.”

None of the babies are actually babies anymore. As the planet has been rebuilt the number of orphaned and abandoned children has decreased rapidly. The youngest baby will be two soon.

The moment they see him, the babies swarm around his legs.

“I missed you brother Obi!”

“You’ve been gone so long!”

“Come play with us!”

“Will you tell us a story!”

Obi-Wan laughs, answering every question thrown at him until the clamour dies down. Mifa is on caring duty today, and they duck out gratefully as Obi-Wan and Daria settle in with the babies.

As always, they want a story about the wider galaxy. Obi-Wan tells them about Coruscant, the shining buildings and trillions of people. He doesn’t notice Jango lurking in the hallway beyond the room.

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Previously On Relic Keel:

Remus, Saint, Sirius, Leo, and Logan have woken Luke in the dead of night and convinced in to take them into his father’s study to look for the treasure map he had supposedly taken out on loan before he was sent to jail. They explain to Luke what they need, but Luke has no knowledge of it. Tensions are high when Saint finds a hidden safe behind a frame and opens it to reveal an envelope addressed to Luke in his father’s handwriting. They only get higher when Logan snatches it from Luke’s hands and uses it as leverage to convince Saint to help him break Finn out of Saint Clair. Saint agrees and Luke is left alone with his father’s letter, and the memories of talking about the treasure with his father before he was taken away.

We meet Remus the next morning on the docks, ready for his morning sail, only to find Sirius waiting there for him. Sirius agrees to go sailing with him. It’s a little awkward, and Remus can’t stop wondering about Sirius and Saint’s relationship. As they ride the wind and waves together, some of the wariness is relieved and Remus learns how Saint escaped from Saint Clair: an accident. Sirius doesn’t know how he plans to do it again.

And Saint won’t tell him. Sirius has to follow him to the orphanage in order to get Saint to let him help. It turns out Saint plans to climb down the chimney and then exit the doors from within, just like last time.

Before we can see if he pulls it off, we go to Marlene and Dorcas. Marlene finally tells Dorcas that she got into college, at Berkeley. Dorcas is supportive of her girlfriend, promising that they’ll figure this out.

We go back to Sirius and Saint who make it into Saint Clair safely. We learn that Saint didn’t let Logan come because, if it went wrong, they needed someone on the outside who knew Saint Clair well. Saint gets cut on his way down the chimney, but is otherwise okay—except for the memories. Saint Clair brings back feelings of the Crucio-ridden dreams, and feeling out of place. Saint has always felt out of place—In the world, in his own skin. He hopes to find files on his mother, but they are locked up. We learn Saint’s real name is Sebastian, and that he hates it. They find Finn in solitary and get him out safely, though he is weak from not eating and from Crucio.

Logan is waiting nervously with Leo. Leo wishes Logan would have told him he was going to threaten Luke like that. Logan feels guilty, but there’s a sadness of missing someone that they share, only Logan is getting the person he misses back. Leo says that they can stay with him, when Finn arrives, if they want to. Logan realizes that he thinks of Leo as home.

Luke is sitting alone, having opened his father’s letter. There are only two words, a name: Pascal Dumais. He’s surprised to find Saint resting on his window sill, having climbed to his room once again—and hurt. Luke cleans his wounds and asks Saint why he came here instead of going home to Sirius and his other friends. Saint says it’s because Sirius will just want to talk about what happened and because Luke is mean, because Luke is what he expects him to be. Luke also learns that Saint knows exactly who Pascal Dumais is.

***cw: mentions of drugs and addiction, mentions of drugs used medicinally, mentions of hurricanes, mentions of grief and death******

part viii

Lily knew she would probably miss dinners at Gryffindor Club when she went away to school. She knew that she would miss her family—even Petunia. She raised her iced tea to her mouth and looked around their small table, the one they almost always sat at. It was like each family had an assigned seat, just as each student did in class. This who island was one of assignments. Neighborhood. Job. Partner. Everyone seemed to expect her and James to be together.

She wanted that, too—quietly. But not like this. Not with an assigned table.

Not, when James and his parents walked through the clubhouse doors, she could have predicted it to the very second. Clockwork, she remembered saying to James. This island ran like clockwork, and sometimes she felt like she was skidding across the watch’s face.

The hostess greeted the Potters as everyone did on the island. A hug, a laugh. Everyone loved them. James looked flushed and fresh out of the shower, dark hair curling into its usual wild self as it dried, his button-down snug around his shoulders.

“You’re hopeless,” Petunia said from beside her.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Shush.”

James hadn’t quite seen her yet, but if she knew where to look, where his table was, he knew where her’s was, too. When their eyes met, a smile crossed James’ face like a race, like Lily had seen him fly up a lacrosse field—and then it tripped. He caught himself in his happiness, and Lily’s heart caught with him.

He sent her a small wave, and then turned and sat down between his parents, his back towards her. That wasn’t his fault, all the tables angled towards the ocean, but it felt like he was looking away from her.

She looked back down at her dinner and tried to focus on what her father was saying, but it was difficult. While their entrees were being taken away, James made his mother laugh. While they ate dessert, he got that exasperated set in his shoulders that he did when college came up and his father patted a soothing hand on his back. When Lily and her family’s chairs scraped as they got up to leave, James turned around and rose, too. There were pieces of cake in front of his parents, but nothing in front of him. He walked over to her and greeted her parents kindly, said hello to Petunia, and then looked at Lily. His hair was completely wild again, and his hands were in his pockets.

“Want to hang out?” he asked.

“Oh, is that what it’s called these days?” Petunia grumbled, and Lily’s mother sent her a look. Lily just nodded.

“Sure,” she turned to her parents. “See you guys at home.”

“Don’t be out too late,” her father said.

“Dad, it’s summer.”

“Still,” Mr. Evans laughed as he held the door open for his wife and daughter.

“Do you want to go to the field?” James asked as they turned the other way, towards the open balcony doors—the same direction Lily had lead them the night she’d refused him. “I bet we could sneak some wine from the cellar.”

Lily smiled. “You better choose a good one.”

Olli, working at the bar, turned a blind eye to their not so careful sneaking down and up the kitchen stairs. James hadn’t looked too carefully at what he chose, but Lily didn’t mind.

“Did Luke ever get his car back?” she asked as they walked across the grass, Hogwarts Academy looming up in the dark in front of them.

James turned to her. “Oh man, no one told you?”

“Told me what?”

James blew out a breath, laughing and raising the bottle. “We better open this first.”

They settled in the very middle of the lacrosse field, just over the Hogwarts Castles’ logo, and James pulled the cork. They traded the bottle back and forth as James told her about the Voldemort, a tale they’d grown up with, and about Saint Clair and the breakout, and about Luke and his father.

“Pascal Dumais,” Lily repeated. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“Me neither,” James said, taking a sip. “But apparently Sirius and Saint know him. And Luke’s father, I guess.”

“How is Luke?” Lily asked. “Marls always says she can’t really tell. And then there’s the…”

James nodded and he swallowed, picking at the grass. “Crucio. I know. I tried to help, but I guess he’s still…He’s just so angry.”

“I don’t understand why though, with the Crucio, I mean. You know? Doesn’t it just…make you relive things? Why would you want to just keep reliving the same thing over and over again?”

James glanced at her, hazel eyes careful. “To change it? Or to hope that it might change?”

Lily felt herself flush, with the wine, and beneath his gaze. She hadn’t meant it like that, but she supposed that was what they were doing. Lily didn’t know what she would change, though. The island? James? Herself?

“Do you…” James began quietly, and when Lily looked over at him, he was still looking down. The high moon caught the curve of his jaw, the glint of his glasses. “Do you think about it?”

The question made Lily feel like all the field lights had come on at once, striking her and baring her to the world. He didn’t have to explain. Lily knew he was talking about that night. Their night. Lily looked back at the sky and closed her eyes. James’ hands had been warm, dipping between her legs, cupping the small of her back when she’d arched against him. He’d smiled into their kisses, like he couldn’t help it, until he couldn’t anymore, until her heat had made his mouth slip open, until she’d wrapped him up against her so tightly there was nothing to think about but never parting. It had been quick. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. But it had been perfect. Intoxicating.

“Of course I do,” Lily whispered.

“Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about it,” James replied, and it brought a thrill to Lily’s fingertips, adrenaline to her gut.

She thought of him, alone at night in his bed, unable to stop thinking about it. She knew she couldn’t sometimes, either.

“Not it,” he added, eyes still raised towards the stars. “You.”

You, Lily’s mind repeated. Him. Those smiles. James’ smiles. The way he blatantly asked for what he wanted, asked what she wanted. The way he’d knock on her door and they’d spend entire days together—the way they’d been doing that since they were ten. James had tried to teach her lacrosse, she’d tried to teach him how to knit. James used to come on the floaty that trailed behind their speedboat with her, when she was younger and never wanted to go alone. It had been both expected and surprising the first time they’d kissed—sixteen and awkward. She’d laughed it off and cried about it to Marlene later, unsure why she was crying.

You. I can’t stop thinking about you.

“I thought you wanted to stay in…in whatever space we’re in,” Lily whispered back.

“I thought you didn’t like the space we’re in,” James replied. “I want…Fuck,” he laughed a little. “Isn’t the whole point not to know everything right now? Isn’t what you want not to know everything? To get outside of this circuit? So, can’t we just…”

“James, this circuit is your life.”

“Stop telling me that,” James urged. “I have…” he ran a hand over his face, and there was real distress there, way beyond the two of them. “I have no idea what my life is.”

Lily reached out, brows drawn together, and put a hand on his shoulder. He was warm through his shirt. “J…”

“I don’t need to know,” James said and when he looked up at her, he looked pained. He took his glasses off, rubbed at his eyes again. “I don’t need to know. Do I?”

“No, of course not, I’m sorry,” Lily whispered. Her hand moved to his neck, thumb stroking softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

He kept his head down and let Lily tangle her fingers in the soft hair at the base of his neck. Lily put her head on his shoulder. She felt James relax a little, felt his arm wind around her waist and his mouth press into her hair.

“Let’s just…not know for a little while?” he whispered, and she nodded, pressing closer.

Grimmauld place was wild and open, Logan thought, lying beside Finn. As he brushed Finn’s hair away from his face, he liked that the first thing Finn would feel when he woke up was the ocean breeze on his face, that the first thing he would smell was the salt and the sun.

Some books, piled up beside the bed, served as a place for a waiting glass of water and toast with butter and honey. Easy on his stomach, Leo had said when he’d dropped it off, along with some more filling foods for later, which were waiting in the refrigerator. Logan had wanted to ask him to stay, but Leo was going to work. Leo didn’t—Leo didn’t even know Finn. Logan didn’t know why he wanted Leo to stay.

Saint and Sirius had both come in at various moments in the early morning, as had Dorcas, but Logan was only dimly aware of their presence. Now, the sun was turning the morning warm, and Finn was beginning to stir beneath Logan’s touch. Logan propped himself up on his forearm, heart beating hard.

“Finn?” he whispered as Finn breathed in slowly—the easy, long breath of waking up.

“Finn,” Logan whispered again, palm on his cheek.

Finn turned into Logan’s hand and opened his eyes. Those brown eyes that Logan’s subconscious, that the Crucio, had never gotten quite right. Finn blinked heavily a few times and Logan held his breath, trying to reel the relief that welled in his chest. He wanted to throw himself onto Finn, crush them together—but Finn looked so fragile. Thin and confused.

His eyes cleared at the sight of Logan, though, and then filled with bright tears.

“Is this real,” he barely whispered the words, his voice hoarse from disuse, as if scared to break the spell. His hand twitched on the bed, as if to reach forward. But touching didn’t work with Crucio, and it would only hurt to know that they couldn’t touch—Logan knew that all too well.

Logan nodded, throat too tight to speak. He took Finn’s fingers in his own and kissed his palm before pressing it against his own cheek.

“I’m warm, aren’t I?” he managed.

Finn just stared at him, then past him at Grimmauld’s wooden ceilings, at the sunlight beginning to flood into the room.

“You’re out. You got out. You’re okay."

Finn found Logan again quickly, as if he couldn’t help it. His palm pressed against Logan’s cheek, sliding around to cup the back of his head.

“Come here,” Finn said the words like a breath of relief, like air, and Logan went.

He buried his face in Finn’s neck, let Finn pull as much of his weight on him as he wanted, and wedged one of his arms around Finn’s back, the other buried in the hair at the base of his neck, just like Finn’s was in his own.

They lay there, just breathing. Logan felt Finn’s chest rise when his own did. They pressed against each other, like their hearts were trying to get closer. Logan didn’t think he’d feel close enough to Finn ever again.

“Lo,” Finn whispered after a while, and Logan had thought that maybe he had fallen asleep again, was content to lay here and wait for him to wake again, but he looked up at his name on Finn’s lips.

Finn pulled him forward again and brushed their mouths together once, twice, and then smiled. A laugh spilled from him, eyes wet again.

“I missed you,” Logan felt his voice tremble beneath the words, and they felt too small. Words felt too small for Finn.

“You could have been caught,” Finn whispered, fingers combing Logan’s hair back from his forehead, as if re-memorizing the feeling. “God, I don’t remember…how?”

“I didn’t…I…Finn, I did some bad things to get you here,” Logan swallowed dryly, closing his eyes at the feeling of Finn touching him again. “And it’s really hard to be sorry about it right now, but…”

Finn made a soft sound, and Logan couldn’t help but smile when he felt Finn’s thumb brush just under his eye, a small warning, before they ever so lightly touched his eyelashes. They were long, and dark, and Finn had always loved them, had repeated that gesture a thousand and one times, even when they had been all of eight years old, whispering to each other and staying up past their curfew.

“You’re okay,” Finn said, and then, “God, I’m starving.”

There Logan was, being selfish again. He scrambled for the toast, cold now.

“Leo says to take it slow,” he said as he handed it over.

“Leo?” Finn asked as he pushed himself up to sit. He hummed gratefully when Logan handed him the glass of water, too, and took a small sip, then a bigger one.

“He’s—yeah, Leo. He—” Saved me. Helped me. Was kind. He’s what I think home feels like, but I need you there, I need you to tell me, to be sure.

“Oh,” came a voice from behind them, and Logan turned to see Sirius. “You’re awake. That’s good.”

Finn nodded, mouth full. He glanced at Logan. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Shit,” Sirius laughed a little. “I’m Sirius. Sorry. This is—uh,” he gestured around. “Well, I wouldn’t say my house. I live here? But welcome to Grimmauld, stay as long as you like.”

“He’s Saint’s friend,” Logan said, and then realized. He said quietly. “Bash.”

“Bash?” Finn’s eyes widened and Logan shook his head.

“He doesn’t like to be called that. I try not to slip. I’m getting better.”

“He never did,” Finn nodded, then said, with a small smile. “Saint, then. I…yeah, he…he was there. In solitary.” Finn shook his head. “I thought it was the drugs.”

Sirius shook his head. “No, we were there.”

Finn looked at Logan. “Lo?”

It wasn’t accusing. Just curious. But Logan heard the question anyway. Why weren’t you there?

“It’s not his fault,” came Saint’s voice as he emerged the same way that Sirius had come. His hair was a mess of curls on top of his head, his eyes a little puffy from a hard sleep, but focused clearly on Finn. “I told him not to come. He almost burned a house down to get you back.”

Logan flushed with guilt.

Saint walked over to sit beside Logan and smiled a tired smile. “Are you okay?”

Finn nodded. “Thanks to you. Saint.”

Saint’s eyebrow raised a little at the weight Finn put into the word. A pleased light flickered over his face.

“Eat something,” Saint said. “You look bad.”

Finn laughed a little as he took another bite of toast, and Saint rose, walking over to where Sirius was. Saint folded himself against Sirius’ chest and closed his eyes. Sirius was staring out the window towards the waves, but wrapped an arm around him, and tilted his temple to rest against Saint’s.

Finn’s eyes were questioning, but Logan just shrugged. He didn’t know if they were together or not. Sometimes it seemed like they were, sometimes it didn’t. Logan didn’t really care just then, he only wanted to reach out and run his fingers through Finn’s hair and watch him eat. He couldn’t wait until he had his strength back. He’d take him to Leo’s. They’d go swimming in the ocean for as long as they wanted and find work somehow. Somewhere safe.

Finn leaned into his palm as he ate, smiling at him in a way that made Logan have to scoot closer to him, their crossed knees touching.

“Leo makes good toast,” Finn said.

“Leo makes good everything,” Logan laughed. “Leo’s just—good.” Logan pressed his hands onto Finn’s thighs. He was still wearing the clothes from Saint Clair. They’d have to find him something else. Logan thought of the money in his bag, and where it came from, and the Crucio beside it. He swallowed, trying to keep the worry form his face, and rubbed a thumb over Finn’s knee. “You’ll see.”

A whistle came from down the hall, and Dorcas emerged, hair and mess and eyes on her phone. “Hurricane’s supposed to roll in in the next week. Fuck, it’s supposed to be really bad.”

Logan looked up. He could remember a few hurricanes while in Saint Clair. The rattling windows and the mess of fallen trees afterwards. “Have they named it yet?”

“Botilda,” Dorcas nodded. “Hurricane Botilda. Makes sense, after Albus last year.”

“We should start trying to board up now,” Sirius said. “Grimmauld barely made it last year.”

“We should try to be somewhere else when it hits,” Dorcas replied pointedly. “It wasn’t just the house that barely made it. And they’re saying it’s bad, Sirius. Really bad.”

Logan felt Finn scoot closer to him, and smiled when he felt a kiss pressed to his neck.

“Where will we go?” Finn whispered.

“If you suggest—” Sirius began, eyes dark and on Dorcas.

“James would let you two stay with him,” Dorcas said. “He would. And I could get away with staying with Marls.”

“No,” Sirius snapped. “We don’t need their help.”

“God, you’re so fucking proud,” Dorcas sighed.

“Interesting choice of words,” Saint laughed. “Gods, and their holy souls.”

Logan thought of Leo. Of his warm house, and his offer. They could stay with Leo…would Leo really want them to?

“Anyway. We’ll decide later,” Saint patted Sirius’ cheek and sauntered out of the room. “I have a lunch date.”

Luke had asked to meet him in Rowena, and Saint thought that felt neutral enough. Not the Hollow, not Godric. Although, if they were talking about Pascal Dumais, they might as well have gone to the Lion. Baby steps, Saint supposed. After all, he was already surprised that Luke had asked to meet up at all.

He was even more surprised every time he brushed against the bandage across his ribs. Had been surprised by Luke’s—touch, he guessed. He thought of his messy scrawl that filled the corners of the copy of Jane Eyre Saint had swiped, now sitting in Grimmauld. He had spent more time last night studying the formation of each written letter than actually reading.

Saint, standing on the sunny sidewalk, waiting, rolled his eyes at himself. Luke was an ass. Saint was, too. Luke liked books. Saint wondered if he liked to talk about them, wondered what he wanted to do with himself.

He probably wanted to leave here, just like Sirius did. Just like Marlene, and Dorcas, and Saint’s own fucking mother.

Saint wished he had tried harder to get into the files at Saint Clair. Maybe he could have known her name by now. He had tried so hard to remember, but the only thing that ever came up was maman. A hazy memory of crying, of reaching for her as arms carried him backwards, that he didn’t know if he made up or not.

Now, if felt like he never would.

“Sup.”

Saint turned to see Luke standing there, aviator sunglasses on and a white t-shirt.

Saint sent him a quietly disbelieving look. “You don’t actually talk like that, you know.”

Saint took his sunglasses off, folding them into his shirt as he led them towards the restaurant. “What?”

“Sup,” Saint parroted. “Dude. Hey, man.”

“How do you know how I talk?” Luke yanked open the door like he was fighting against it. It wasn’t the gentle touch Saint remembered across his skin, but Saint didn’t like it any less.

“Because I’ve read your writing now,” Saint replied, and walked through first, even though Luke hadn’t been holding the door for him.

“Hey,” said a boy at the counter. He had dark skin, and gold glinted in his ears. “Take a seat wherever.”

“No, you haven’t,” Luke snapped as he followed.

“Luke,” the boy laughed. “Chill, man.”

“Sup,” Saint said to the boy, then looked at Luke. “Deveaux, you picked the place, what should I have? Also, you’re paying.”

Luke shot him a look, but approached the counter. “Hi, Thomas. Two burgers. Also, are we scrimmaging later?”

“You know it, baby. Two coming up. How you like them, or…?” Thomas asked.

Luke looked at Saint. “Do you like pickles?”

“Nope.”

Luke grinned. “Yeah, how I like them.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes, but complied.

Dorcas ditched her bike in the grass outside of the building with the sign that read Blizzard’s. It was the most popular ice cream spot on the island.

The bell above the door rang out happily as she entered, the smell of sugar and sunscreen hitting her as she looked around at the bustling tables, painted bright colors. Natalie was behind the freezers, long blond hair scooped up into a messy bun as she handed out cone after cone. She winked at Dorcas when she saw her, and jerked her chin towards the back. Dorcas smiled back, and slid behind the counter and through the door into the back room.

“Meadowes,” Kasey looked up. “You’re early. Hear about the storm?”

“Yes. Kase, can I ask you something?”

Kasey smirked. “You’ve never asked to ask me anything before.”

Dorcas sent him a sarcastic glare, and leaned on the counter, feeling the weight of her pack shift against her back. “I’m thinking about getting out.”

Kasey paused for a long while, then sighed. “Yeah.” He looked back towards where Dorcas knew the greenhouse was, where the Crucio grew, hidden among the other plants. “Yeah, me too.”

“Seriously?”

“This was something I took up when I was younger, you know?” Kasey replied. “I wanted fast cash, and I was using Crucio myself at the time.” He rolled his eyes. “Felix. You know how it is. I was lost. This shit can pray on lost people. Now…now I want a different life. With Nat. I wanted it to be safe, you know? Crucio. I wanted it to be used correctly.”

Dorcas nodded. She knew that well, too. Kasey and herself had had countless discussions about the medicinal uses of Crucio. But it was a slippery slope. It could go wrong. It had gone wrong in the Carrows’ hands. They laced it with drugs that forced one to give up control of their memory, it allowed the reliving without the learning. It became a Pandora’s Box, a place where your greatest desires lived, as well as the addiction to desire. The Carrows put things in there that let the addiction out first, before any of the healing properties. Used correctly, the plant provided a safe place for grief, or hope, or longing. Used incorrectly, it created a false reality in which to live.

“That doesn’t sound like getting out of the game exactly,” Dorcas said.

“It’s getting out of the illegal part of it,” Kasey replied. “The dealing. I want to start a company. Therapy and classes. I want to help people, not give them a late night quick fix.” Kasey glanced up at her. “We were actually hoping you’d join in. But here you are, wanting out.”

Dorcas sighed and slid into one of the ragged leather chairs. “I like the sound of that. The only reason I agreed to work with you is because your aim wasn’t to take advantage. But I…”

“Marlene?” he asked.

Dorcas took her hat off, staring at the front, where Marlene had painted their initials, intertwined.

“She’s leaving,” Dorcas said. “For school. And I…I need to be able to go with her.”

“Do you have savings?”

“Some,” she nodded. “Enough for a plane ticket. I’ll have to get it in cash though, which always makes them think twice.”

Kasey laughed. “No bank account with drug money, I’m afraid.”

“Right,” Dorcas sighed, and let her head fall back. “God, Kase, what the fuck am I going to do? She’s going to meet some California chick at school and just…there are so many amazing people out there. And she deserves the best of them. Not some drop out.”

“If you drop out of one thing, you can drop into another,” Kasey replied. He pushed his chin length tawny hair out of his face. “Now, I’m tired of your feel-sorry-for-me bullshit. You’re smart and in love and one hell of a person.”

Dorcas let her head drift to one side to smile at him. “You too, Kase. You know that don’t you?”

“Oh, I tell him as much as I can,” came Natalie’s voice. She came around Dorcas’ chair and slid onto Kasey’s lap with a light kiss. “But he’s basically as stubborn as you are.”

Dorcas snorted, but then went quiet. She looked around at the back room. It was tidy chaos, the perfect environment for inspiration.

“You two could put the Carrows out of business,” she said. “You really could.”

“If we can get the funding up,” Kasey said. “Then, yeah,” he smiled at Natalie, stroking a hand over her bare shoulder. “We could.”

“Two burgers,” Thomas said, then laughed a little. “Extra pickles, no onions.”

Luke looked at Saint, who just sighed.

“You’re the picture of chivalry,” Saint said, but picked it up. “The very image.”

They took their first few bites in silence. Saint figured Luke would talk when he was ready, but when he just pulled out the letter his dad had left him, the single slip of paper with nothing but Pascal’s name on it, Saint guessed he’d have to take the first step once again.

“We should be meeting at the Lion, you know,” Saint broke the silence. “That’s where Dumo is.”

“Dumo?” Luke repeated.

“Pascal. Pascal Dumais. Everyone calls him Dumo.”

Luke nodded, as if taking this in. He was fidgety as hell. Saint had never seen him do anything with his hands except throw a punch or tuck them beneath his crossed arms. Or hold Saint steady. Now, he picked apart his fries, shredded the label on his soda and his paper napkin, and chewed slowly.

“I don’t want him there,” Luke finally said. “I want to know about him first. Tell me.”

Saint nodded. He could understand that.

Saint picked up his water, breaking the cap’s seal. “Me and Sirius have been…it’s just been the two of us for a long time. Most of our lives.”

“I remember when Sirius left school,” Luke said. “There were all kinds of rumors. Most kids thought he was, like, dead or something.”

“He sort of was,” Saint replied. “But, then again, so was I. We were free, but we didn’t know what the hell we were doing. Dumo could see that we were on our own, of course.”

“Did he threaten you?” Luke asked. “With authorities, or whatever?”

“The opposite,” Saint said, twisting the cap this way and that. “He didn’t push. He made sure we had what we needed, but he didn’t push.” Saint smiled. “And I hate to be pushed.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve figured that out.”

“He said something recently, actually,” Saint continued. “About Leo’s father. And the treasure. They used to go out on Leo’s dad’s boat together.” Saint shrugged. “Maybe your dad went, too.”

“I didn’t know anything about it,” Luke said, staring down at his food.

“I think, more often than not, children don’t know half of what their parents are.”

“Or anything of them, right?” Luke said, then winced. Actually winced. “Sorry. I don’t…”

“Right,” Saint just sighed. “Or anything. Like me.”

“I guess you’re tired of the poor orphan boy thing,” Luke said. “But you can’t tell me you don’t play that card.”

“I’m tired of it in more ways than I can count,” Saint said, then laughed. “But, yes. It’s helpful, when I need some extra work. Sometimes. Some people feel bad. Some people don’t trust me. Like you.”

“You haven’t given me any reason to trust you.”

“And yet, here we are,” Saint waved a hand at the restaurant. “You want your father. And I want my gold. And Logan wants to be free of debt, and Finn wants Logan, and Sirius wants…” Saint swallowed. “And I don’t actually know what Lupin wants.”

“I don’t think Remus knows what Remus wants,” Luke leaned back in his chair, and Saint felt their sandaled feet brush beneath the table as Luke stretched his long legs out. He pulled them back. “Sorry.”

Saint briefly thought about hooking their ankles together, just to see what Luke would do, but instead tucked his feet beneath his chair, giving him room.

“So, tonight?” he said.

Luke shook his head, confused. “What?”

“We’ll talk to Dumo tonight. You’ll come to the Lion, his restaurant, tonight. In the Hollow.”

Luke looked away, towards the other customers, the busy lunch scene. “Who else will be there?”

“Sirius will want to know. Leo. Maybe no Logan just yet, he’ll be with Finn. Bring Lupin, if you want. What, you don’t like people?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You’re the one who came to me because I’m mean.”

Saint laughed. “I came to you because I don’t like surprises and you’re exactly what I expect you to be.”

“And that’s mean?”

Saint rose, crumpling his napkin and throwing it onto his empty plate. “Five o’clock tonight, before the dinner rush.”

Luke nodded and followed him out of the restaurant, waving to Thomas, and back into the heat of the day.

“Oh,” Luke called as they split ways, Luke towards his car, Saint towards the beach. Saint turned to see him squinting in the sunlight. “And whatever it is that you took from my room—and I know you took something—bring it tonight.”

Saint hummed, as if thinking. Then, he pulled Luke’s sunglasses from his pocket and put them on.

“No,” Saint chimed, and turned on his heel, smiling at the curse that followed him.

Remus ran into Sirius outside of the Lion, and almost laughed at the surprise that washed over Sirius’ face when Remus smiled and said hello. In a way, Sirius reminded Remus of Luke. Unassuming when it came to affection, but bright when they let themselves feel it, accept it.

“I keep thinking I’ll see you again,” Remus said. “Waiting for me on the dock.”

Sirius pushed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He had a tank top on, and Remus’ eyes lingered over his tan arms.

“I didn’t know you wanted me there,” Sirius sounded almost bashful when he said it.

Remus’ smile was teasing, but his eyes were firm. “I think you should stop assuming things about me.”

Sirius blinked, and went to open his mouth to reply, but Remus only shrugged a shoulder and held the door open for him.

“Did they ask you to come, too?” Remus said. “Saint and Luke?”

“Yeah,” Sirius mumbled. “Well, Saint.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “Hey, did you hear about the hurricane coming? It’s supposed to be a heavy one.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Remus glanced back at him as they walked through. He didn’t see Luke or Saint yet. “What do you mean?”

Sirius pointed towards the coast as they slid into chairs. “We’re right off the point so, it’s a lot of nailing wood boards and sandbags and…you know.”

“The point,” Remus repeated, and Sirius nodded.

Remus stared at him. “You’re…not actually thinking of staying there.”

Sirius looked at him and Remus held up wary hands.

“That wasn’t a dig, calm down, I’m just saying—the storm.”

“We’re fine,” Sirius said. “We’ve always been fine.”

“You can’t be—it’s not safe.”

“Well, I’m sorry if not all of us can afford—”

“Stay with me,” Remus blurted, and it sent them both into silence.

Sirius shook his head. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you a little,” Remus looked up as a waitress brought them ice water. “I knew you a little when we were eleven, before you disappeared.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t disappear. A God would think that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Once someone exits your little bubble, it’s easy to pretend they don’t exist.” Sirius scooted his chair to the side a little, defiantly, eyes on the door. “No. Thank you. We’ll be fine.”

Remus just stared at him. He was like two waring currents, Sirius Black. Hot and cold, mingling below the surface where Remus couldn’t see. They surprised him each time he brushed through a different one. He thought of the boat, and changing winds, and Sirius’ smile. There was no trace of it now.

“You’re going to risk your life to prove a point?”

“I’m not.”

“Which, risking your life, or proving a point?”

Sirius just scowled. “Thank you for your offer.”

Remus sat back in his chair, too, if only to mirror Sirius’ crossed arm position. They stared at each other.

“They say the winds are going to be up to—”

“Look,” Sirius sighed. “I—”

“You could really be hurt,” Remus said, and when Sirius opened his mouth again to respond, Remus cut him off again. “Or Saint could be.”

Remus watched the way Sirius’ eyes lightened at his name. He saw a crack in the surface, a shift, but before he could say more, there was a shuffle of feet and Luke was standing by their table.

“Luke,” Remus said, looking up at him. He didn’t look any better than he had the night they had gone to his house. Remus felt another wave of guilt about that. Luke had purple beneath his eyes and his sweatshirt was one that Remus knew well. It had been left at his own house for weeks, only for Luke to pick it up later. It was a little small, from before he had bulked up from lacrosse, but Luke still wore it, fraying edges and all.

“Hey,” Luke cleared his throat, pushed a hand through his hair, and sat down. “Yeah, hi.”

He was nervous, Remus realized.

“Where is Saint?” Luke asked.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and Remus practically felt the cold current grow. “He’ll be here.”

Luke didn’t rise to the bait. He looked rattled. He pulled the sweatshirt off, his haste nearly taking his shirt with it. His cheeks had pink spots on them. Remus reached out to touch his arm.

“Luke,” he said. “Are you—”

“Yeah,” Luke cut him off, but then looked at Remus more softly. He nodded. “I’m okay, Re.”

Remus nodded, then looked back to Sirius in time to see his eyes dart from Remus to Luke and back, narrowed.

“What?” Luke snapped.

“Sup,” Saint’s voice came.

Remus looked at him as he sat down, then back at Sirius.

“Jesus Christ,” Luke mumbled.

“You know, Deveaux,” Saint said instead, and smiled at Luke. “There’s a song that came on in your car. Been stuck in my head ever since.”

“Where’s Pascal Dumais?” Luke asked.

“Straight to the point, then,” Saint replied. “He should be here. Might be in the back.”

Sirius rose, palms flat on the table. He still looked exasperated. “I’ll go find him.”

That left Remus alone at the table with Luke and Saint. Luke still seemed rattled, and Saint was just looking between the two of them.

“Are you all right?” Remus leaned in to ask. “You look…”

Luke took a slow, uneasy breath and looked over at Remus. The green in his eye seemed to blend more with the brown, his pupils large.

“This guy could have information about my dad,” Luke began, and glanced behind him in the direction that Sirius had gone. “I’ll let you know how I am when we talk to him. I…” Luke hesitated.

“Three,” Saint said softly. “Two…one—”

Luke pushed his chair back, too, turning towards the counter and the kitchen doors. “I don’t want Black warning him off or something.”

“What?” Remus made to rise, too, but hesitated. “Luke—“

But Luke was already ducking beneath the counter and more or less blasting through the kitchen’s door. Remus saw Leo do a double take and take a step towards him, shouting a protest.

Saint called out to him, then rose. “It’s all right!”

Remus watched him walk away in that smooth way of his, and lean against the counter, clearly explaining to Leo.

Remus had no choice but to follow.

The kitchens smelled like spiced meat and fresh bread. It was steamy with boiling water and frying pans, cooks yelling to each other as they prepared for a full service.

Remus floundered for a moment before he found Sirius and Luke. Luke was easy to spot, taller than anyone else there. He was talking very quickly to a broad man with a dark beard and kind eyes. He had the sort of hands that Remus associated with his grandfather. Meant for making, strong and scarred. Remus stepped up beside Sirius, who was watching.

“Pascal Dumais,” Remus said softly to Sirius.

Sirius was gazing at Pascal with a look on his face that Remus had never seen before. Soft.

“Dumo,” he replied.

Pascal shuffled them all into a back office where he pulled extra chairs around a table, pointed some of them to a slightly scraggly couch, and pulled out a bottle of what looked like homemade wine. It was light orange in color, and he handed each of them a glass.

“One of my wife’s many talents,” he smiled. “It’s orange wine.”

“Tell us now,” Luke said. “Tell me why my father—”

They all looked up when the door opened, and Leo slipped inside. He looked around warily at them, then managed a slight smile at Pascal.

“I don’t know how to reach Logan,” he said. “I…”

Pascal shook his head. “Sit down, Leo. You’ll need to hear this, too.”

Saint scooted over, into Sirius’ side. It pushed Sirius closer to Remus, and Remus tried not to settle into the warmth that Sirius radiated against him. He looked around the office instead, jaw clenched. It was filled with family photos, but it wasn’t until Remus looked closer that he realized it wasn’t just three children that appeared beside their parents, three children who were nearly Pascal and his wife’s spitting image. He recognized a young Sirius, and beside him, a young Saint. They were smiling wildly. It brought Remus back all those years.

Sirius, there one day, gone the next.

Pascal took a sip of his wine, his eyes going somewhat sad. Remus found himself looking at his hands again. He missed his grandfather.

All us Lupins, Remus. We go mad. At least that’s what they say.

“We shared a love of history,” Pascal said to Leo. “Your dad and I. But, of course, we by no means had the funds to truly commit to such an,” he laughed lightly, a little sadly. ”A hunt.”

He looked at Luke. Pascal spoke with the heavy island accent.

“That is where your father came in.”

Luke hadn’t touched his cup. “He was your funding.”

Pascal nodded. “But I didn’t know that he was…I didn’t know where he was getting it from. I never dreamed that he was…well, I’m not sure what they took him for, in the end.”

“No one seems to be able to tell me,” Luke said lowly.

“You never said,” Leo whispered. His blue eyes weren’t betrayed exactly, but he looked shocked.

“No, Dumo, you really didn’t,” Saint said.

“What was there to say?” Pascal replied. “Do you know how many people look for that treasure? At first I thought Wyatt, Leo’s father, was mad.”

Remus stiffened.

“And then,” Pascal rose. “Then he brought us the map.”

“The map,” Leo repeated, and he stood. “The map to The Cradle?”

Pascal swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I don’t know where he got it, he wouldn’t say.”

Leo stared at him for a long moment, and shook his head. “Why…why was he out there alone? Why was he out there in that weather?”

“You need a storm,” Pascal sighed and rubbed his eyes. “At least that’s what he and Victor thought.”

“My dad was actually hunting with you?” Luke asked. He and Leo wore almost identical expressions.

Pascal nodded. “It sounds strange, doesn’t it? A Hollow, a Helga, and a God, working together.” His eyes flit around at them all.

“Why a storm?” Remus asked. “Like, for tides or something?”

“Exactly,” Pascal nodded. “There’s a current in The Cradle. They call it—”

“The Horcrux,” Remus said, and when Saint sent him a questioning look he spread his hands, drawing a circle in his palm. “It’s a killer. It’s why people are so wary of sailing near there. It’s strongest when the winds are high, and the island ring keeps it contained. And it’s so rocky that it…” he looked at Pascal, realizing. “My grandfather used to call it the ship-sinker.”

Pascal nodded. “He’s not the only one. I thought Wyatt was insane, but Victor didn’t.”

Leo took a step forward, and Remus watched his chest rise and fall, eyes turning angry. “Then why wasn’t Victor out there?” He turned on Luke.

“Come, Le,” Pascal shook his head. “It isn’t this boy’s fault. We all knew it was dangerous.”

“And what?” Leo said, voice raising. “And he was the only one who thought it was worth the risk?”

Pascal was quiet for a long moment after that. Remus heard Leo’s real question, too. He was the only one who didn’t think he was leaving something behind? Pascal seemed about to speak once or twice, and then shook his head.

“I don’t know,” Pascal whispered, voice pained. “I didn’t even know he was going.” He looked up at Leo. “I didn’t know he had gone until we heard—”

Leo turned his back, then, and pushed the door open, disappearing down the hall. He left silence behind him.

Luke stood in the middle of it, like the quiet didn’t weigh him down at all.

“And my dad’s letter?” he asked. “Your name.”

“Jesus, Deveaux,” Sirius snarled from beside Remus. “Give it a fucking minute.”

“He’s not the only one who has been waiting for answers,” Luke snapped back. “It isn’t my fault he didn’t like them.”

Pascal rose without a word and turned to the desk. He opened a deep filing cabinet drawer and, from the very back, slid a rolled piece of paper, tightly bound in a protective plastic.

“The map,” Luke said, eyes trained on it.

“This showed up a few days after your father’s arrest,” Pascal replied. “That’s all I know. I tried to get in contact with him. I really did.”

“But it went down with Leo’s father,” Saint said. “Why are there two?”

“There is never only one of anything,” Pascal said. “The world is too greedy.”

Luke reached for it, but Pascal held it back with a knowing expression. “Do I look stupid? I’m not giving you any clue as to where that gold might be. I don’t need anyone else getting—”

“Caught up?” Saint mumbled, and Remus felt the motion of Sirius slugging him.

“All fine,” Saint said with a smile, and stood. “Don’t worry about it, Dumo. We understand.”

Pascal let out a slight laugh. “Don’t think I don’t know about your slippery fingers.” He tapped the rolled map on his palm. “This won’t be in the same place twice.”

Saint pouted. Sirius stood, too, keeping close to Saint. It left Remus feeling cold on the couch.

“Why did you tell us, then?” Sirius asked.

“Sometimes there are things that people need to know,” Pascal said. “And sometimes there aren’t. You had my name. I did tell you why. But this. This is dangerous.”

“This is opportunity,” Saint shoved his way in front of Sirius.

“For what, wealth?” Pascal scoffed. “There are easier ways.”

“You don’t what to finish the job?” Saint shot back.

“I already lost one friend out of it,” Pascal said evenly. “I won’t lose a son, too.”

Saint froze and Remus saw Sirius freeze, too. Saint didn’t even look like he was breathing. His silence was equally as heavy as the one Leo had left behind.

“I’m not,” Saint’s voice barely came out, but it filled the small room. Remus thought his hands were shaking.

Pascal just nodded, eyes solemn.

Saint turned, shaking Sirius off when he tried to catch him, and then Luke, tried, too. Remus blinked and they were all tumbling out of the room, Luke on Sirius’ heels, Sirius on Saint’s.

“Stop,” Sirius shouted as they broke back out into the night. “Saint, it doesn’t matter—”

“Nothing does,” Saint yelled back without turning. “And so nothing turns into everything.”

Sirius stopped as Saint turned into shadows, as he got farther and farther away. Remus caught his breath beside him, but Luke kept going.

“What?” Sirius asked. “You’re going after him?”

“We need him,” Luke snapped over his shoulder, and disappeared, too, the white soles of his sneakers glinting like the moon rising.

“You’re not?” Remus asked, looking up at Sirius.

Sirius’ eyes looked far away. With Saint, Remus thought.

“Saint can’t be chased,” Sirius sighed. “He loses everyone. He comes back.”

They stayed there, though, just at the edge of The Hollow, looking into the dim night. Remus wondered what Luke thought Saint would give him.

“A storm,” Remus said. “The treasure needs a storm.”

“Botilda,” Sirius nodded. “I know.”

“Do you think he’ll…or Leo and Logan—”

“Maybe.”

Remus reached for him, put a hand on his shoulder. “You know where I live, right?”

Sirius made to pull away, but Remus held on. “Just answer.”

“Of course I know where you live,” Sirius sighed. “This island isn’t that big. Though some people might prefer if it was.”

Remus huffed out an annoyed breath, and let go. “There’s the tower. Round, a turret. There’s a door at the base of it. Go through it, up the stairs, and through the door to your left. My room’s just down the hall, and there’s a guest bedroom right across from it. I’ll leave the doors open.”

He left Sirius standing there, and with a strange pull in his chest.

Finn couldn’t help but feel strange, walking up to Leo’s house, his hand in Logan’s. It was small but cozy, with warm light coming from inside the windows, and flowers growing in the small yard. He could see the workshop garage door that Logan had described. Someone had painted the metal as a sky full of stars.

“This is such a…” he began, then laughed, feeling almost giddy. “Such a house.”

Logan laughed, too. His smile hadn’t faded once since Finn had gotten back on his feet. He didn’t feel all the way there, the tiredness still lingered, but at least now he felt like he could eat an entire horse—and no longer in tiny bites.

“It is, I really like it inside,” Logan replied as they stopped at the door. He squeezed Finn’s hand, and kissed the back of his palm. “You’ll see.”

He raised his fist to knock, and they stood there for a long, quiet moment, Logan leaning his head on Finn’s shoulder, before the door opened. Finn let himself take Leo in. He was blond, and tall. Lean muscled and—and he looked unbearably sad. His eyes were red.

Leo looked at them and Finn almost could feel Logan’s smile fade.

“Leo?” he asked.

“I…” Leo began, but his breathing caught, his eyes falling shut as he tried to keep his tears at bay.

Finn didn’t really know what made him do it, but he reached forward and put a hand on his arm—at the same time that Logan placed on on Leo’s back.

“Leo, hey,” Logan said gently. “Hey… what is it?”

“Let’s sit,” Finn said. He caught a glimpse of the living room behind Leo and the two of them got the door closed and led Leo to the couch. He sagged into it.

“I’m sorry,” Leo choked out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Logan said, shooting a worried, confused look at Finn. “We…what…”

“What can we do?” Finn asked timidly. Leo didn’t even know him. He probably didn’t want to be crying in front of him.

Leo looked up at Logan and a strange story spilled out of him. A ship, Finn caught. Gold. A hurricane and a death. Logan seemed to understand every word of it, his eyes wide. Finn realized he still had a hand on Leo’s back, and pressed it back into his lap.

“I never really thought too much about…” Leo’s voice broke. “How. If it was terrifying or…”

Finn looked at Logan across Leo. He shook his head, showing he didn’t understand. Leo must have caught the gesture in the corner of his eye because he turned to Finn. Finn stared at him. Some people just looked gorgeous when they cried. Leo was one of them.

“I’m sorry,” Leo rasped. “This isn’t how I wanted to meet you, Finn.”

Finn just shook his head. “I…no, don’t…It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

“He just,” Leo’s breathing caught, and he looked back at Logan. “There’s a difference now. It wasn’t the storm. He chose to—he chose to go.”

Logan placed a soothing hand on Leo’s neck and leaned in so that their foreheads nearly touched. Finn leaned back a little, staring at the inch of space between them.

“We know how it feels to have someone choose to go, Leo,” Logan said softly. “We understand.”

Logan looked at Finn, and Finn didn’t know what else to do but nod. That he could understand.

“We do,” Finn said softly. “We understand.”

Leo wiped his eyes and looked at Finn. He tried for a shaky smile. “I guess we have some explaining to do.”

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moonknightly · 3 years

Text

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier

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