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startanewdream · 3 years

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‘Dad, hypothetically… what would you have done if Mum was Sirius’ sister?’

Lily notices it first, Harry pines and James cheers.

(AKA the Jily Lives AU discussing Hinny, for @sweeethinny and @isidar-mithrim)

Read on AO3 or all below the cut:

__________________________

It’s getting late when James apparates at the Burrow, feeling tired. He had spent all week immersed in old tomes across Europe’s oldest libraries, reading lost scrolls of magic theory - Dumbledore asked him to study heavy curse breaks, for whatever reason -, while Lily was away in the strangest Order mission he’d ever heard of: tracking down their old Potions teacher, so Old Slughorn could return to Hogwarts that year. He doesn’t know why this is important, but then again Dumbledore has been more mysterious than usual lately.

James can’t care about it now; all he wants is to go back to their house, to Lily and Harry, and enjoy some part of Harry’s summer holiday with them.

Especially after everything that had happened in June.

But ever since Voldemort had been out in the open again, the number of Order missions had increased. James can’t complain - as long as the Order is doing their job, as long as he is in the field doing what needs to be done, Harry doesn’t need to be involved, and they can pretend there is no prophecy hanging around Harry’s shoulder, carrying the weight of the world with it.

Harry had been quiet and thoughtful since returning from school, and James hopes these last days at the Burrow had helped ease some of his worries; or, at least, that his humour had been better than last summer.

Molly greets him with a warm smile (after making sure they pass each other’s secret code because these are dark times) and points him to her orchard.

‘They’ve been playing Quidditch all day’, she explains amused, offering him a tea in her kitchen. ‘All week, actually. If I would let them, I don’t think they would even return for dining’.

‘Ron would’, James says teasingly, and Molly laughs, agreeing. ‘So… I take everything is fine?’

‘Harry’s been nice, James’, she assures him. ‘He’s been eating all right and talking and… recovering, I guess. But, yes, he seems fine. Like -’

‘A normal teenager?’

She nods.

‘Your son is a good boy’, Molly says fondly, looking outside the window even though they can’t see them out there. ‘You and Lily raised a fine young man. He deserves some peace’.

James sighs.

‘It’s all I wish for him’.

‘You can let him come here all summer if you want’, she adds. ‘We’ve given the highest security protection there is, and here I can keep an eye on him too while you and Lily are out. Harry will enjoy being with Ron and Hermione’. Molly pauses briefly. ‘And with Ginny’.

‘I will talk to Lily’, James says. ‘But I don’t want to bother you or Arthur -’

‘You won’t’, Molly affirms. ‘In fact, don’t you want to stay for dinner?’

‘Lily will be finally home tonight, Molly, but I will accept on another occasion. I will just collect Harry now’.

She smiles. ‘Just follow the sound’, she says, indicating the pathway leaving her kitchen door.

James nods in goodbye and he leaves the illuminated kitchen. The sun is setting, so the pathway is dark, but ahead he can see someone has lighted a blue bonfire; as promised, he hears them even before he sees them.

‘We aren’t really hurting them’, he hears Ron saying, his voice sounding both exasperated and fond, and James knows he is speaking with Hermione.

‘Still, there has to be a better way of keeping gnomes away’.

‘We can always make Crookshanks chase them away. He seems to enjoy it’.

‘He wants to eat them -’

‘Well, it’s that or throwing them away, so -’

James gets closer, stopping just right before the bonfire can illuminate him, enjoying the view. Harry, Ron and Hermione are around the fire, sitting on logs, and while Ron and Hermione are locked in one of their heated discussions - about gnomes, he supposes, but it never took much to get them started -, Harry is quiet, his back for them actually, evidently not being a part of their discussion. For a moment, James thinks this is a bad sign - that Harry is in one of his reflective moods - until he notices Harry is not really brooding.

He is looking up at the sky, where the dark shadow of Ginny flying can be seen cut across the sunset sky. Ginny is making some nice movements - training loops and mid-turn stops - that James will have to remember to praise her later, but right now his eyes are fixed on Harry’s face.

Harry looks… serene? It is not the right word, but James thinks he has never seen that expression on Harry before. He looks simultaneously at ease and amused and fascinated; he looks like his mind is miles away, but still, his eyes don’t miss any move Ginny makes as if he could watch her flying for hours.

And he is smiling like… again, James can’t put his finger on it, can’t name that smile, but he knows he has already seen it before, and not on Harry’s face. Not even on his own - for all the similarities between him and Harry, it is not a smile James has seen in the mirror before. Where then?

It looks so familiar...

Harry suddenly raises, and when James follows the direction of his look, he sees Ginny is making a sudden dive, straight towards the ground. Harry looks ready to bolt towards her, but Ginny straightens her broom and lands smoothly, with an infectious grin on her lips. She had been laughing during her dive.

‘Wronski Feint?’, he hears Harry asking teasingly, as he approaches her. ‘What do you think you are, a Seeker?’

‘Well’, Ginny seems deep in thought, considering his question, but James can hear the same tease in her voice. ‘Last time I checked, yes, I was one’.

‘What happened to only playing Seeker while I was out?’

‘Maybe I enjoyed doing nothing all match. Guess I will see you on tryouts’.

‘Good luck with that’, Harry smirks. ‘I’ll let you know the captain favours me’.

‘Aren’t you the captain?’, Ginny asks, giving him a sly smile. ‘Merlin, they make anyone captain these days’.

‘Watch out’, he warns her, his voice dropping amusement. ‘Or the captain won’t call you’.

‘And lose the Quidditch Cup because he dare to forgo his best Chaser? He wouldn’t’.

‘He wouldn’t’, Harry agrees warmly. ‘As long as such Chaser stays in the Chaser position’.

Ginny laughs.

‘That’s all this Chaser wants’, she assures him, her voice as playful as his. ‘Just try to play all games for once, ok? No visits to the Hospital Wing or getting banished again’.

‘It wouldn’t be a normal year for me if nothing happened’, Harry notes, shrugging.

Ginny sighs.

‘Guess I will keep training that Wronski Feint then. Someone has to win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor’.

‘With all the guidance of your captain, it should be easy’, he says, once more grinning happily, all negativity gone. ‘Of course, your Feint needs more improvement -’

‘Improvement?’, she scoffs, and James notes that all her indignation is softened by the fact Ginny is still smiling. ‘That movement would make any decent Seeker fall for it -’

‘I wouldn’t fall’.

‘I said decent Seekers, Potter’.

‘Oh, you are so on, Weasley’, Harry challenges, his eyes shining. ‘Let out the Golden Snitch, we will see who falls for who -’

‘Mr. Potter!’, there is a high shriek and James turns around just as Harry and Ginny look at him, finally noticing him at the edge of the meadow they are. Hermione is up on her feet, her eyes going from James to the bonfire and James has a pretty good idea of who cast the magical fire. ‘We were just -’

‘I am glad Molly lighted the fire for you’, he says dismissively, winking at Hermione, giving her a perfectly reasonable excuse for a bit of underage magic. ‘It is charmed to keep flies away, I hope’.

‘Dad!’, Harry cries, looking glad to see him. ‘You took long, I thought you’d stay in Germany forever’.

‘So dramatic, I wonder who you took that from’, James jokes. ‘Just arrived to take you home’.

‘Ah. Sure’.

That is not the reaction James hoped for. Harry always seemed happy returning home, his favourite place on Earth - but then again, James supposes, their house is so protected lately that Harry would be left alone there, unable to communicate with his friends by owl and most of the time alone, since James and Lily are working over the clock for the Order.

And there would be no Ron and Hermione there.

And no Ginny, he thinks, when he sees Harry glancing briefly in her direction, his shoulder slumped.

‘Molly offered for you to stay here during the day for the Summer’, he says, seeing a bright hope shining on Harry’s eyes at his words. ‘Why don’t I drop you here early and come to pick you in the evening?’

‘Weasley Daycare?’, Ginny pops in, grinning, and Harry turns to her with a mischievous smile already on his lips.

‘Someone needs to take care of you’, he says, and James thinks he isn’t really talking about Ron and Hermione. ‘Maybe even give flying lessons’.

‘I hope you don’t mind picking up pieces of your son, Mr. Potter’, Ginny says, winking at James. ‘He is going to be crushed tomorrow’.

Harry laughs, and it’s a sound so fresh and pure, that James laughs together.

They say their goodbyes and, as he and Harry are on the pathway to the apparition point, James keeps throwing glances in his direction.

That mysterious smile is once more on Harry’s lips, and James wishes he could remember where he has seen the same smile before.

He thinks of what he saw before between Harry and his friends - no, not all his friends. One in particular. Could it be…? James always thought they were a good match - certainly, their interactions in the past have shown all their potential -, and they seemed really friendly a few minutes ago, but he remembers how Harry was when he would talk about Cho Chang.

Nervous and red and sweating.

He looks the opposite of it now, really.

‘So, what was that?’, he asks, trying to understand his son. Harry blinks, surprised.

‘What?’

‘You and Ginny. You were… bantering’.

‘That was not banter’, Harry disagrees, laughing easily. ‘We were just talking’.

‘And teasing each other’.

Harry shrugs, unconcerned. James almost asks him directly what is really going on between them, but after a second he gives up. Maybe he is seeing things where there aren’t - Harry would tell him if there was something to tell.

But, still, that inexplicable smile keeps turning up afterwards, when they are dining and Harry is happily retelling his adventures from his days at the Burrow, talking about their Quidditch plays and throwing-gnomes contests and how he and Ginny were laughing about Bill and Fleur’s relationship and teasing Ron. James can’t help but notice Ginny’s name is mentioned most of the time.

Lily, who seems to as tired as James feels after a week away from home, is looking at Harry with an amused expression on her face as if she is watching for the first time a movie that will soon be her favourite.

‘Harry seems to have had a great time at the Burrow’, Lily says cryptically, as they are getting ready for bed. ‘I’m glad he will be there more’.

‘Yeah… did you notice something weird about him?’

‘Weird?’, she laughs to herself. ‘Different, maybe, but not weird’.

James looks at the smirk on her face.

‘You know what’s going on with him’, he accuses.

‘I was surprised you didn’t catch… But then again you didn’t notice the first time too’.

‘Lily - all this suspense is killing me. Harry is smiling like that all night and I can’t put my finger where I’ve seen it before -’

‘Come on, James, you know our son and me better than anyone. You really have no idea what is happening?’

He shakes his head, and she laughs again before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

‘Do you know how everyone says Harry looks just like you?’

‘Except for your eyes’.

‘And his smile’, she adds. ‘Harry’s got your lips, maybe, but his smile is all mine’.

‘So?’

‘So this Harry’s new smile is not new at all. If you weren’t so certain I wasn’t going to ever fancy you back, you would see that I beamed like that for you for a whole year before we went out together for the first time’.

‘Oh’.

‘Dorcas and Lene used to tease me all the time for being so oblivious to you - and they were right, it took me a long time of admiring you and pining after you to realize I fancied you a lot’.

‘Oh, so that means -’

‘That means Harry is still as oblivious as I was, so don’t interfere, James’, Lily adds, looking knowingly at him.

‘But -’

‘No prying. Let him find out in his own time. When he comes to talk to you, then you can gush all over like you want’.

‘That could take months!’, James complains, moping.

‘Don’t take that away from him’, she asks, laying down by his side. ‘Let him be a normal boy falling in love for the first time. It worked out for us, didn’t it?’

James sighs.

‘Well, Harry is much better than I was. Hopefully, it won’t take long’.

_____________________________

Harry doesn’t say anything for the rest of the Summer, even though, now James is looking at the signs, he sees it is really obvious how Harry’s eyes seem to shine brighter when Ginny is around, how he always looks for her the first time he enters in a room and how he seems to request her presence in everything he is in.

Lily says he can’t fault Harry for being clueless, reminding him that James had once been surprised when Lily had actually accepted his invitation for going out with him (‘I changed all our patrol rounds so we could always be together, James, and I kept finding reasons to touch you, how much more oblivious can a girl be?’), but James doubts he took that long to notice Lily’s feelings for him. And it’s his own feelings Harry has to notice - how much time can that take?

Still, time passes by and Harry starts his Sixth Year at Hogwarts without any mention of his growing feelings. His letters don’t say anything different, and James is almost giving up on his son ever realizing he actually fancies Ginny when they return home for Christmas.

And, by Merlin, it is suddenly so clear that Harry is pining after her that he doesn’t know how other people don’t notice it too. Harry actually sighs - a heavy, deep-from-the-chest sigh - when Ginny makes a silly joke and dances around him, his eyes following her with unquestionable longing.

He remembers Harry telling him how we went with Luna for Slughorn’s party - just as friends - and his confession that girls seemed more interest in him than usual, and James thinks all those girls are losing their time. Harry’s heart clearly belongs to someone else already.

The only thing James doesn’t get it is why Harry is pining instead of doing something about it.

As much as amused as Lily seems to be by the situation, she still forbids James of saying anything before Harry does, so James forces himself to press his lips for most of the Christmas holiday, watching his son stealing glances at Ginny like she is the only Golden Snitch he couldn’t ever catch.

Then, finally, Harry knows his father knows. It’s because of something silly, really: they are all together on Christmas morning at the Burrow, when Ginny says brightly:

‘Harry! You’ve got a maggot in your hair’, and then, as she picks it up, Harry reddens slightly and shivers at the same time. It’s rather adorable, James thinks, and he can’t help but smirk as his eyes meet Harry’s, which only makes his son flush even more, caught is his body admission that he is attracted to Ginny Weasley.

Fortunately for Harry - or not - there is a distraction in the shape of the Minister of Magic and the matter is dropped in all that happens and in the delight James feels as he watches Harry walking straight with Scrimgeour, refusing to accept being the poster boy for politics he doesn’t agree with.

Sometimes, more than others, James feels he and Lily did raise Harry very well. His heart bursts of pride for his son.

Harry is quiet when they return to their house for the night, accepting in silence the tea James offers him, and James thinks he must have a lot on his mind, with all the Minister proposed him and all Harry has been learning with Dumbledore - which the headmaster promised James and Lily it was important, even though he couldn’t share its contents with them…

‘Dad?’, Harry asks in a very soft voice. ‘Can I ask your opinion about something?’

James nods, thinking it’s strange for Harry to be so formal.

Harry glances around, to confirm they are alone in the Potter’s living room, before asking:

‘Just say it, hypothetically… what would you have done if Mum was Sirius’ sister?’

James blinks. There is a list of things Harry could ask him, a list of things that could worry him, but this…

He grins without being able to control it, and Harry sees it.

‘Oh, forget it’, he says, crossing his arms and looking very much like Lily when she is annoyed.

‘Sorry, Harry, I wasn’t -’, James fights back another smile, trying to look reassuringly at his son. ‘I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. With everything that is happening, it’s nice seeing you worry about something so normal’.

Harry frowns.

‘It is not normal’, he murmurs.

‘Fancying your best friend’s sister? It kind of is’.

He can see Harry’s face heating up again, but Harry doesn’t deny fancying Ginny.

‘It doesn’t feel normal’, Harry says, with a heavy sigh. ‘It feels like I am betraying Ron or something -’

‘Take from a guy who has actually been betrayed by a close friend, Harry, this is not betrayal’, James assures him. ‘Do you just want to mess her around?’

‘No!’, Harry seems appalled by the idea. ‘I actually like her, but…’, he bits his lips just as Lily does when she is nervous. ‘Ron caught Ginny and her boyfriend a while ago together, and… and he was so mad that I keep thinking - if Ginny was with me there instead, he would hate me too…’

‘Ginny is dating someone else?’, he asks, surprised. He had never heard Ginny mentioning anyone.

‘Yeah’, Harry looks dejected. ‘Dean. He is nice, I suppose, and he can draw so well… Sirius always told me girls like artistic boys’.

‘Well’, James tries to joke. ‘You are the Chosen One’.

‘Big deal’, Harry answers, clearly thinking he is misqualified as boyfriend material. ‘It is not like I have worked for it’.

‘You play Quidditch’.

‘He is in the team too’, Harry points out, gloomy. ‘You said you and Mum dated other people when you were younger?’

‘Yeah’.

‘How… how did you deal with it?’

James shrugs.

‘I don’t know if I can tell you exactly, Harry. It’s been so long ago that any jealousy I felt then doesn’t seem to matter anymore. I just remember hating it, of course, and wishing it would be me. But also -’

‘You wanted her to be happy too’, Harry finishes for him, with a sigh. James gives him a sympathetic look.

‘You can’t meddle with her relationship, Harry. If she really likes her boyfriend, then there is nothing you can do. And if not… these things crumble with time. Like you and Cho’.

‘That was not really a relationship’, Harry disagrees but he nods. ‘I guess I just have to wait then’.

‘And when it ends, that doesn’t really change your situation’, reminds James. ‘Ginny will still be Ron’s sister. What will you do then?’

Harry looks at the fireplace, without answering, and James can read easily his intern conflict.

‘You and Ron have been friends for a long time, Harry’, says James slowly. ‘I think that means he trusts you, including to be a good boyfriend to his only sister. But unless you talk to him first -’

Harry throws him an alarmed look.

‘Yeah, I think it’s a bad idea’, James notes, grinning. ‘Ginny would hex you if she knew you were asking for permission from any of her brothers’.

That makes Harry laugh.

‘She would’, he agrees, his voice full of tenderness as if he loves the fact that Ginny would really hex him without hesitation.

Oh, Merlin, Harry has really fallen.

‘Well, then, you are going to take a leap of faith on this. You know, for once do that thing where you act first think later for a good reason’.

‘It’s easier facing Voldemort’, Harry says, only half-playful.

‘I can’t really say, I’ve only done one of them’, points James in the same voice. ‘But I really think Sirius would have been happy for me if Lily was his sister’.

Harry nods in silence, lost in his thoughts, until finally, he smiles at James.

‘I will keep that in mind, Dad. Thanks’.

James waves dismissively. ‘No problem. Just promise to keep me updated, ok? Your mum and I have placed our bets’.

Harry blinks.

‘Mum knows?’

‘No offence, Harry, but I am surprised people don’t know. You’ve been pining all over Ginny since summer break’.

‘I wasn’t -’, their eyes meet and Harry blinks, unsure. ‘I was?’

James nods solemnly. Harry shakes his head.

‘At least tell me you bet in my favour’, he asks, and James laughs.

‘We wouldn’t dare bet against you’, he promises, and he doesn’t add that he feels Harry wasn’t really the only one whose feelings have grown up during summer.

But that is for Harry to discover eventually, with a little bit of luck.

___________________________________________

Harry is beaming.

It is not that James has never seen Harry happy before; he was a cheerful child, and even with things getting darker lately, there have been good cheery moments.

But Harry is positively beaming, his mother’s green eyes shining with bliss and a bit of amazement as if he can’t believe he gets to be this happy. There is something weirdly familiar about that smile, though, and James wonders where he has seen it before.

‘Hi, Dad!’, he begins, and his smile is so bright that James is surprised the whole room isn’t alighted by it.

‘Hello, son’, he says slowly, trying to understand what made Harry call him early in the Sunday morning in their two-way mirror.

As far as James knows, ever since the last time he talked with Harry - and it had been a tense conversation when Harry had confessed using an unknow dark spell on the Malfoy boy -, nothing could have happened to leave Harry in such high spirit. There was the final Quidditch match the day before, the one Harry hadn’t been allowed to play - maybe Gryffindor had won? That still wouldn’t explain his exceptional good mood or the early call, though…

‘We won’, Harry says, almost like if he is reading James’ mind. ‘Over three hundred points, just as we needed it. Ginny caught the Snitch’.

Harry smiles even more than it’s humanly possible as he mentions Ginny, and James has suddenly a vision of himself twenty years ago, entering hurriedly the men’s bathroom on the Three Broomsticks, throwing water over his face to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

He had been really awake then, still with that lingering feeling of Lily Evans’ lips over his, and he realized that it all had been real - his date with Lily, her confession that she definitely fancied him and their first kiss - until James was left facing his own reflection in the mirror as if it belonged to someone else - someone that was happy beyond words, someone that couldn’t believe everything that had happened. He had been beaming then.

Just like Harry is now.

Harry’s pining smile may be Lily’s, but Harry’s in love smile is all James’.

‘Oh, Merlin, it happened’, he cries, resisting the urge to dance with the mirror in his hand. ‘Tell me everything!’

‘We are dating’, Harry admits, the satisfaction clear in his voice. ‘I did my thing’.

‘What is your thing? If it’s a weird teenage thing -’

‘That act first, think later thing’, Harry says, laughing. ‘I returned to the Common Room and we had won - Ginny had won for us - and she was running towards me and she looked so amazing and she had this blazing look -’

‘You snogged her in front of the entire Gryffindor House?’, James asks, and Harry nods, not looking remotely ashamed. ‘I am so proud of you’.

Harry lets out another happy giggle. It’s the most carefree laugh James has heard in a long time.

‘It wasn’t planned, it just… happened. And -’, Harry’s smile softens a little. ‘Ron was really happy for us’.

‘Of course he was’.

‘He did warn me to not, you know, break her heart or anything, but it’s fair’. Harry looks resolute. ‘I won’t. Break her heart, I mean’.

‘Good, because you are going to answer to me too if you hurt her’.

‘I think Ginny could handle herself’, Harry points out fondly, undisturbed by his father’s warning. ‘And I just want to make her as happy as I feel’. He pauses, as if to gather his thoughts, and when he talks again, it looks like Harry is talking to himself. ‘It’s been a long time since I felt like this… normal, I mean. People were talking about us last night at dinner, but I just couldn’t care less for once, you know? All I could think was that I was just so lucky that Ginny happened to fancy me back and that she agreed to date me… It is like I have this Patronus with me all the time now’.

James smiles.

‘I’m so happy for you two, Harry. You once asked me how I felt about your mother - well, it started like that’.

‘Dad, we’ve been dating for a day, take it easy’.

‘I will uphold planning the wedding’, James promises solemnly, making Harry blush and roll his eyes.

‘As if you don’t have everything sorted out already’, Harry scoffs, but his voice sounds more amused than anything. ‘Well, I have to go. I promised I would meet her for breakfast’.

‘Then go, don’t let your girlfriend waiting’.

‘Girlfriend’, Harry repeats, seeming to savor the word. ‘See you later, Dad -’

‘Actually, Harry, one thing before you go. Who made the first move?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You kissed her, or did she kiss you?’

Harry looks thoughtfully.

‘I think it was me, but since she was coming towards me... Does it make a difference?’

‘It does for us. That’s what your mum and I bet about’

Harry chuckles again.

‘Let me guess, you bet on Ginny’.

‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, son -’

‘That’s okay, I would bet on her too’, Harry assures. ‘I will discuss this later with her’.

‘Oh, “discuss”, is that how you say snogging nowadays?’

‘I said later, not that it’s all we would do’, Harry ponders, shameless. ‘Now I really gotta go. Don’t want to leave her waiting for me’.

‘Go on’, James says, watching the mirror flicker and show his own smiling face.

He is still grinning when he returns to the bed and kisses the top of Lily’s head as she rolls to hug him.

‘What was it?’, she asks lazily.

‘Oh, nothing unusual. Just our son finally kissing Ginny’.

‘What?’, Lily jumps, suddenly waken. ‘Tell me everything!’

#Eyes glistening #Jily lives #Hinny #Harry and Ginny #James Potter #Lily Potter #Jily supports Hinny #t: fanfiction

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haledamage · 3 years

Text

Double Date

I’m very late in the day posting this, but I still got it before Valentine’s Day is over so I’m counting it as a win! this is sort of for OC Kiss Week, and since technically there’s a kiss between OCs I’m still counting it

a Valentine’s Day double date featuring Wayhaven’s cutest couple, Nate Sewell and Abigail Jenings, from the POV of Kira Kingston, one half of Wayhaven’s most awkward not-couple. AJ belongs to my dear @queen-scribbles, Kira is mine, Nate and Adam are from The Wayhaven Chronicles

---

Kira set a pair of mugs on the squat coffee table in her living room. One mug, proudly proclaiming its owner to be “Pure of Heart, Foul of Mouth, Smart of Ass” held a fresh cup of chai tea. The other, a beautiful handmade mug covered in sunflowers, belonged to Kira’s roommate, AJ, and was filled with coffee to the redhead’s very exacting taste.

It’s a quiet day in the apartment, something both women preferred and rarely got to enjoy. With work and Agency business - not to mention AJ's new boyfriend and Kira's… more complicated situation - it'd been a while since they'd been able to spend time together that didn’t involve casing a crime scene.

AJ had claimed the sofa, legs tucked under her and book open on her lap. It looked to be a very old tome, pages yellowed and spine cracked with time; it didn't take much to figure out where she must've gotten it - or rather, who she’d gotten it from.

Drinks delivered, Kira returned to the old gingham recliner and picked up her own book - a murder mystery; she’s pretty sure she knew who did it already, but didn’t want to skip ahead for vindication.

“Hey, Kir,” AJ's voice broke the silence and Kira's meandering thoughts. She waited for the brunette to hum in acknowledgement before asking, “You doin’ anythin’ on Sunday?”

Kira took a second to think about it, though she didn’t really need to. “I don't think so? In theory, I have the day off. Why?”

“Nate and I were thinkin’ o’ goin’ out and thought you might like t’ join us,” Abigail said in a rush.

Kira blinked. Then blinked again. “You're inviting me to third wheel on your date this weekend?”

“Not... exactly.”

“Spit it out, Red.”

“Y'see, we figured we could maybe…” AJ tugged on a wayward curl, straightening it out before letting it snap back to join the rest, “make it a double date.”

“A double--” Kira was half-tempted to pretend she didn't know who Abigail and Nate intended her date to be, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. “There's no fucking way Adam would agree to that, AJ.”

Grinning victoriously, AJ carefully closed her book so she could lean forward. “But if he did, would y’ go?”

There was no way Kira could say no to that hopeful look and she knew it. “Sure,” she sighed. “Okay. If you can convince Adam to go, then I will too.”

“Trust me, Kir,” Abigail said, patting her friend on the knee as she reached for her coffee, “it'll be fun.”

It's only later that night as she was setting her alarm that Kira realised with a sinking feeling what day Sunday was. She just got roped into a double date on Valentine's Day.

---

Kira resolutely refused to dress up. She was still pretty sure Adam wasn’t going to show up, and she didn’t want to third-wheel in uncomfortable shoes. She wore the same head-to-toe black she always did - though she did slap on some red lipstick at the last minute in an attempt to appear “festive.”

She felt vindicated when Sunday evening came around and AJ was dressed much the same way she normally was, blouse and waistcoat and adorable but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to tame her copper curls. She cycled between checking her phone, wringing her hands, and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her shirt; it looked like only sheer force of will was keeping her from pacing the length of their living room.

“C’mon, Red,” Kira said fondly. She put her hands on AJ’s shoulders. “Relax. You’ve been on dates with Nate before.”

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day.” She somehow sounded even more nervous than she looked.

“First of many.” That finally drew a smile to Abigail’s face. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Hearts Festival,” she admitted quickly. “It was Nate’s idea, showin’ ‘em the local culture.”

“That’s… not a bad idea, actually.” Kira could feel herself relaxing under that knowledge. The Hearts Festival was a fair held every year in the Square, on or around Valentine’s Day. Most of the local artists and crafters set up little stalls of things intended to appeal to couples, but Kira and Abigail had found some of their favorite knick-knacks exploring it together. There was also music and cutesy romantic activities aplenty, but both of them were familiar enough with it that they could approach or avoid it on their own terms.

“Nate said Adam’s lookin’ forward to it,” the redhead said slyly.

“Nate was fucking lying.” Just like that her tension was back, which only made AJ smile wider. “I don’t think Adam knows how to look forward to things. Especially not when I’m involved.”

“Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. The brief measure of calm AJ had found was gone in a blink, nervously brushing a palm over her hair as if that might subdue it. Kira bit back a laugh and took pity on her friend, yelling, “It’s open!”

The door swung open and Nate and Adam stepped inside, the former immediately greeting his girlfriend with a warm smile, the latter scowling at nothing in particular.

Knowing her presence had been immediately forgotten, Kira ducked out of the way to avoid getting stuck between Nate and AJ as they gravitated toward each other like magnets. She busied herself with getting her coat on instead.

She only barely stifled a surprised gasp when Adam came over to help her with it. Neither of them said anything, looking anywhere except at each other.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to break the silence, grabbing the first topic that came to mind. “I’m surprised they talked you into this.” Her voice came out a little rough, so she cleared her throat and finally turned to face him, playful grin in place. “Did Nate have to blackmail you?”

A corner of his lips quirked up in a small smile. “Do you think I’m that averse to your company, Detective?”

She shrugged. “Valentine’s just doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, strangely reluctant. “Why did you agree to this, if you didn’t expect me to?”

“I’ve never been able to say no to AJ.” Kira glanced over at Abigail and her boyfriend, who may as well have been the only people in the room for the way they were wrapped up in each other. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll use it for evil.”

“Is it your thing?” he asked quietly, watching their friends as well. “All of… this?”

She scoffed. “Not really. I don’t think I’m a chocolates-and-flowers kind of girl.” She looked back at Adam to find him frowning at her words. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked disappointed. It woke up the butterflies in her stomach and compelled her to add, “I’ve never had anyone try to prove otherwise.”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply to that, scared of what exactly his answer would be, clearing her throat exaggeratedly instead. “Should I go? I can stay at the Warehouse tonight if you lot need to be alone.”

AJ and Nate paused, their lips a hairsbreadth apart as they’d both been leaning toward each other. Kira didn’t need vampire hypersenses to feel the frustration coming from both of them, though neither of them said anything about it; she tried not to feel guilty about interrupting them as they moved apart.

A few minutes later, the four of them stepped out into the cold February evening and began the walk toward the Square.

Nate and Abigail took the lead. They only made it a few steps before he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. They shared a brief, besotted smile before turning their attention back to the sidewalk, walking close enough that their shoulders bumped together.

Kira found herself staring at their linked hands as she walked behind them, something stirring in her chest that she might almost call jealousy, except she knew she wasn’t at all attracted to either of them. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted over to Adam walking next to her, only to find him already staring back. For a beat, their gazes held.

Then they both looked quickly away, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk and the light traffic on the road. Adam shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and after a moment’s hesitation Kira did the same.

The next few minutes were spent in tense silence, the only sound between them the snatches of conversation drifting back from the couple in front of them.

“Where are they taking us?” Adam asked suddenly.

“They didn’t tell you?” He shook his head and she smiled a little. “I only found out just before you arrived. They must’ve assumed we’d refuse as soon as we heard. It’s a little fair that they hold in the Square every year. I mostly just go for the food.”

“You’ve been before?”

“Sure.”

“With a date?” The question forced itself out through clenched teeth.

“Yes. I have a standing date with this cute redhead I know. About yea high,” she held a hand a few inches above her head, “lets me call her Red.” She watched in awe and amusement as the tension left Adam’s shoulders when he realised that his only ‘competition’ was the woman dating his best friend. Kira glanced fondly at the cute redhead in question, who looked back at her as if aware that she was being talked about. She winked at her, and Abigail grinned back. “I kinda thought I’d be spending the day alone this year,” she added quietly to Adam.

“You sound like you would have preferred that.”

“No.” It sounded like a lie, so she corrected herself. “Not exactly. I don’t mind the company. I just don’t like the crowds.”

They turned a corner and were hit by a wave of lights and noise as they entered the Square. Kira flinched under the onslaught more than either of the vampires did, but steadied herself quickly before anyone could fret over her.

The whole area was festooned with lights. Strings of white and pink and red fairy lights wound between poles and covered stalls. Everything was wrapped in ribbons and draped with flowers, and the notes of a familiar Elvis love song drifted to them from a small stage off to one side.

The night passed in a blur. Looking back at it, Kira wouldn’t be able to recall doing much more than just walking through the crowds, eyeing a couple interesting pieces of artwork and very fancy little cakes. She remembered the mulled cider Nate got her and the colorful bouquet he got AJ. She remembered being dragged into the photobooth with AJ, and standing on the sidelines of the dance floor watching her dance with Nate.

She remembered the way Adam stood next to her, a question on his lips that he still couldn’t quite voice. She remembered the single red rose that somehow found its way into her hand.

She remembered that she started the day feeling like she was being dragged along on her best friend’s date, and finished it wishing the date didn’t have to end.

When they arrived back at their apartment building, Kira and Adam acquiesced to their friends’ unspoken request and stayed downstairs to give them time to say good night properly. As soon as they were alone, the familiar silence fell between them, tense and comfortable in equal measure.

Surprisingly, it was Adam that broke it first. “Did you have a nice night, Detective?”

“You know what, I did. And one hundred percent less mirror mazes than our last date, that was nice.” She grinned when he chuckled at that. “I’m dying to see where people trick you into taking me next time.”

He didn't seem at all bothered by the prospect of 'next time.' His smile lingered, wide enough to show the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks. "If I recall, the last one was with Nate and Detective Jenings as well."

Kira leaned against the wall of the apartment building and said, as casually as possible, "True. Maybe we should plan the next one ourselves, then. Invite them along for a change.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” He didn’t seem bothered by that either, though his smile was stifled by the weight of the look he gave her, serious and intense and full of an emotion she couldn’t name.

She tried not to wilt under that look and instead met it with an answering one. “If I was, would you say yes?”

He moved a step closer, struggling between what he wanted to say and what he felt he should. She waited him out, like she always did. Eventually, all he said was “Kira…”

The sound of footsteps on the stairs meant she’d never get to know how the rest of that sentence went. She tried to swallow her disappointment when Adam stepped away again, and turned to smile at Nate as he joined them.

He smiled back, an absolutely giddy expression on his face. Kira knew she’d see an identical one on AJ’s face when she went upstairs. He put a warm hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he walked past and wished her good night.

She expected Adam to follow him, but he still lingered a moment more, brow knotted with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said, a bit too quickly. “I simply… wanted to thank you. For accompanying me.”

“Anytime.” The admission made her blush, but she didn’t take it back. “I-I should probably…” she gestured vaguely up the stairs.

“Of course.”

He reached out and took one of her hands in a gentle grip, moving slowly as if to give her a chance to pull away. As if she had any intention of doing so. As if she wasn’t holding her breath for fear that any gasp or sigh might scare him away. He bowed, the movement so formal that she could clearly see evidence of the knight he once was, and lightly brushed his lips over the back of her hand.

Whatever he saw on her face as he moved away again drew a smirk from him. “Good night, Kira.”

She released the breath she’d been holding in a serrated sigh. “Good night, Adam.” Her voice came out oddly high-pitched, but it made him chuckle again.

Then he was gone.

It took a couple minutes before Kira could remind herself to move and drag herself upstairs. AJ was waiting for her in the living room, grinning ear to ear and still clearly on cloud nine about her night with Nate.

Kira was starting to think she understood the feeling, just a little.

That surprised a giggle out of her, the sound so hopelessly smitten that there would be no way she could keep what just happened a secret. Abigail’s knowing look only confirmed it, her smile somehow even wider and Kira’s growing to match it.

On a whim, she grabbed the redhead’s face and kissed her firmly on the cheek. “You are the best friend and wingwoman a girl could have.”

“You’re welcome, Kir,” AJ chuckled. “Am I forgiven for draggin’ y’ out on Valentine’s Day?”

“You can drag me along wherever you want to. No more complaints from me.”

“I’m gonna remember y’ said that.” She dropped down onto the sofa, leaving enough room for Kira to join her. “Now tell me everythin’.”

#twc #kira kingston #abigail jenings #kira/adam #aj/nate #thank you for letting me borrow your girl cait <3 #and I'm sorry for interrupting that kiss lmao #you'd think kira would know better #hearts festival is based off a little fair we have here sometimes. I used to go with my sister :)

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agentnorthdakota · 3 years

Note

All odd numbers for Zarus. Feel free to skip any, especially if they're too spoilery

Thanks Spencer!! uwu Sorry this took so long! I love this funky druid and I'm curious myself if any of these answers will change as I develop them further and they grow in the campaign~

1. Why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)? When Zarus was young (for a drow), they were taught about nature and other Druidic teachings, which inspired them to actually get out into nature more and be an actual druid themself. Part of the Circle of Dreams, they spent some time in the Feywild, which influenced their magic further.

3. What is their goal right now? They do aim to get back to the Feywild, but Zarus is lackadaisical and drow live a Long time, so despite being presented with a chance to return, they’re like “there’s time for that later~” They’re curious about their friends and have some “souvenirs” to drop off to their friend Cabal first, anyway.

5. Do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity? Zarus isn’t really the religious types. The gods exist, certainly, but they’re more connected to the wild, chaotic power of nature than devoting themself to a specific god.

7. Which party member do they understand the least? Defs Caesin atm. They enjoy being in cahoots with him, but are still figuring out his personality and morals.

9. Do they care about their appearance? how much effort do they put into presentation? Zarus cares a fair bit about their appearance – but you couldn’t tell by looking at them. From the outside they seem like the sort of person that put makeup on a couple days ago and is like “eh it’s still good enough” (purely figurative, they haven’t worn makeup in ages). And yet they typically hold themself like they’re dressed in finery, despite the holes in their cheap clothes.

11. What skills are they proficient in? why? Arcana, deception, history, perception, persuasion, and survival. Each has their place in their backstory, but the specifics of why are a mystery :3c

13. What do they dislike about themself? why? He’s the type to be, like… overly positive and hard to ruffle. He also isn’t exactly the most self-reflective. I think he’d have trouble naming anything he dislikes about himself.

15. Do they trust their party? why or why not? Absolutely! :3 I mean they’ve known each other for like a whole day now! (Zarus trusts way too easily)

17. What do they dream about, when their dreams are their own? That’s a good question :3c

19. What haunts them? what doesn’t? Probably more than he knows, or would admit (even to himself).

21. Do they follow their head, their heart, or their body? Well it’s definitely not their head. I’d say a mix of their heart and gut – but they have terrible intuition and danger-sense.

23. How do they feel about nicknames, titles, or labels that have been given to them? how do they feel about their name? They’d be thrilled to be given any of the above! Nicknames mean fondness, titles mean status, and labels can mean community – all of which Zarus wants. They’re very fond of their name, which is one of the reasons they give it a little too readily.

25. What stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear? Zarus is… probably not the best storyteller, struggling to remember parts, and completely making up others. They’ll talk all day about less linear events though, like various plants, storm clouds, etc. And they’re happy to hear almost any story, as long as the person telling it is enthusiastic and isn’t a stuck-up prick.

27. How do they mourn? If he ever knew how to mourn, I think he’s forgotten how. Death is a fleeting and intangible concept to Zarus, and so mourning would be much the same.

29. Who would they save? who would they be saved by? He’d happily save any of his friends, both new and old, and without regard to any potential cost. And so far he’d be saved by Grimshaw, the only person who’s actually stepped in tried to dissuade his recklessness lol

31. They’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? (answered this one in a previous post~)

33. What makes them cry? …what does make them cry? Again, Zarus is a very cheery individual. Probably something triggering an old, long-forgotten memory, or one of their friends dying and not coming back. They’d also defs be the type to start crying without even realizing it, still smiling, only noticing when they feel they tears streaming down their face, and reach up to touch their cheek in confusion.

35. Which party member do they worry for? Defs Maco. He’s young and seems naïve, so if there’s anyone Zarus would have the sense to actually worry over, it’s him.

37. What is their favorite thing to hold? Ooooh. Probably an old, worn leather-bound book, whether that’s a journal or a published tome. It would bring them a sense of familiarity and comfort.

39. Are their hands calloused, soft, or something else entirely? Their left hand and forearm are covered with burn scars, while their right is surprisingly soft for a druid, not nearly as calloused as you’d expect from someone who travels the wilderness.

41. What are they attracted to in other people? (also answered this one in the previous post~)

43. Why do they fight? I guess… why not? They aren’t exactly into fighting, but they’re definitely capable, so if the situation calls for it they will fight, especially if their companions are. But they don’t exactly fight to protect themself, and would just as readily try to talk their way out of a situation.

45. How do they hug people? Another interesting one! I think it’s been a long time since anyone actually hugged Zarus. Despite being more of an extrovert, they don’t always spend much time around people, and Zarus can be a little… off-putting. I think he’d melt into a hug, eager to share in the rare warmth and companionship – and having no sense of personal boundaries and how long a hug should last or how closely he should wind the other person in his arms or vice versa.

47. When they meet someone, what is the first thing they notice? How kind they are. Do they treat him with kindness, or disdain? Because the latter isn’t going to win that person any brownie points with Zarus, though they may not say it. Anything else – appearance, social standing, scars, etc – that’s all extra, and typically not of concern.

49. What makes them smile? Lots of things. Zarus is smiling, like, 90% of the time, even if it’s a small smile (and probably somewhat unnerving). One of the rare times they’re not smiling is when they’re pondering something. They’re definitely smiling when they’re mad or offended, there’s just more of an edge to it that an observer might not catch.

51. What is the most beautiful thing in the world, for them? Oh wow. I think… life, continuing on uninterrupted. TW for some gory descriptions for this one. ((A bird with a stick fused into it’s wing that still manages to fly, a deer whose antlers are tangled with the head of another, trapped in an endless battle until it sheds its antlers, flowers and fungi sprouting between the bones of a carcass, the decaying corpse of a whale that brings so much new life to the scavengers who feast on it. There’s beauty in death, and in the unstoppable circle of life – and it’s a privilege to them to hold such a special place in it.)) On a more… traditional note, they definitely do like pretty flowers, and thunderstorms.

53. Which is more frightening to them: day or night? Honestly… I think the bright light of day. There’s comfort and familiarity in the darkness, a sense of home. But in the harsh daylight that hurts their eyes, everything is so stark and clear, and deep down it triggers discomfort, of what they should recall but don’t.

55. Whose hand do they reach out for? Currently? Cabal. They’ve helped him to his feet more than once, and he trusts them. It won’t take long for this to apply to his party, as well, but right now Cabal is instinctually the first one he’d reach for. For the party it will probably be Grimshaw first, since he’s been the most protective of Zarus (even if he doesn’t exactly deem it necessary).

57. What makes them angry? Being talked down to certainly grinds his gears. Zarus is actually decently intelligent, but no matter what, being disrespected and treated like he’s beneath someone sparks his anger, especially considering his backstory.

59. What is a quiet passion of theirs? Making flower crowns, and to a lesser extent, origami. They also very much enjoy sketching various flora and recording information about it, but there’s a sense of work to that as well as passion. Also, fashion. They very much enjoy dressing up, they just rarely have reason to.

61. What kind of flower would they choose to pick from a meadow? Literally every flower they could find. They’d either pick none, leaving them to grow, or one of each variety (including colour variations). They are very passionate about flowers and flora, so if they started they wouldn’t be able to resist picking one of each.

63. What fight has scared them the most? They’ve only been in a few fights in-game so far, and it’s very hard to genuinely scare Zarus. There is one from their past that would, but that’s getting into spoiler territory ;)

65. What is holding them back? Their unwillingness to accept that anything is wrong.

67. What makes them laugh? Much the same as smiling, it isn’t difficult to make Zarus laugh. They’re quite cheery, so if someone tells a bad joke or makes a clever quip, they defs laugh at it (even when doing so would be impolite).

69. How would they describe their party members? (aaand I answered this one in the previous post as well, so that’s it!)

#Zarus #Askcending to Blog Tier

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syngigeim · 5 years

Text

A Precious Gift

Things were changing. Norvrandt was free from the tyranny of Light. Finally able to rest, and smile, and breathe. They were safe. For lifetimes, they yearned for the comforting shadows, and now the world could rest and dream again.

G’raha did not expect to see this future. All he wanted was to save her, at any cost. And now she was safe. Syngigeim and her compatriots seemed to settle into the First as if it was to be their home.

How he secretly yearned that could be the truth.

While he heard tales of what the many members of Wanderer’s League were up to, there was little said about Syngigeim. It seemed she was truly taking her rest, though, on the Source instead of the First.

He did his best to hide his disappointment.

And then one day, he heard a knock at the door. “Exarch?” He heard Syngigeim ask. Her. Her!

He gave a small cough, one he hoped she didn’t hear, and spoke with a commanding voice, the Exarch’s voice. “Enter.” But there was no maintaining that mask when he saw her. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Warrior. “What brings you to me, Syngigeim?”

She snickered. “Come now. With that cowl down, there is no pretense. Call me Syngi as you did long ago, my friend.”

“Much has changed since I helped a shy, timid scholar gain some confidence to step forth on her own.” He smiled, thinking of those oldest memories of her. A timid scholar, barely escaped from the Calamity, finding that the academic haven was not as she dreamed it would be. “I’m still a bit disappointed you didn’t take up the bow. I thought I was an excellent tutor!”

Syngigiem gave a hearty chuckle at that. “Well, honestly, I think a bit of it was you came at the wrong time. I couldn’t appreciate your lessons about ‘gaining strength’ then, not when I was still trying to study everything I could at the time. Besides,” She said, giving a wry smile. “I thought for certain you were just coming onto me with that ‘hands-on experience.’”

He gave a small chuckle himself. “You, my dearest Syngi, were the one who made the assumption out of my all too innocent expression.” A sudden thought entered his head. “How is Krile? I knew she joined with the Scions, but of course...”

Syngigeim sighed softly and shook her head. “I haven’t seen her, though she knows of what happened. This whole adventure is a lot to take in, you know. Not to mention that one of her oldest friends, with whom she thought she’d nev- well, she still might not ever see you.” She shook her head. “Nevertheless, she is far afield and still doing what she can, like as not looking into bringing the Scions back out of their dreaming.”

“Any other news from the Source?”

“Strangely enough, no. All’s quiet on the Garlean front. Still that uneasy stalemate.” She smiled and said, “It’s funny. Before this adventure, the waiting just drove me mad. Especially since the Alliance forces forbade me from doing anything thanks to a certain someone…” She said, leaving a pause to all make the question into a playful accusation, to which, he couldn’t help but grin. “...so I guess in my mind the vacation is still on.”

“Vacation? Still on?” Q’hara said, tilting his head quizzically.

“Well, apparently the Alliance leaders were concerned about my health thanks to a certain mysterious affliction that was calling everyone away. Did I mention that I nearly actually died because you called me in the middle of a battle?” Syngigeim said, folding her arms.

“I- well Alisaie did lecture me about the timing of my calls but-” G’raha was taken back. “Did...did I truly…?”

“Nearly ended your attempts at rescuing me with your – what did you call it? - fumbling hand?” Syngigeim said, expression now darker. “Trust me, I was not pleased or trustful of your intentions...until I started to get the faintest inkling of what you wanted and who you were.”

“I must apologize then. I knew that tearing the hero of the Source would be difficult and imprecise...” He was actually tearing up. G’raha knew he caused hurt to Syngigeim by tearing her allies away, but to think that he nearly lost her… “I apologize for my deeds, truly.”

Syngigeim sighed. “It’s already water under the bridge. Really.” She looked askance, as if she didn’t wish she didn’t bring up that point but it slipped out anyway. “Ugh. Back to what I was going to say! The Alliance Leaders, worried about me, knowing that I have already saved and rescued nations for their sake, told me they could take care of the war and fight their own fight. Granting me rest. A vacation.” She said with a smirk. “Twas a personal joke then, as I suspected it would be anything but. But now? Now that the impossible happened and we saved two worlds, and my life, and yours? It is a genuine statement and the moment’s rest is not an anxious wait, but a welcome calm. Treasured moments not to worry for the future but to live in the here and now, if only for a time.”

“A precious gift indeed,” G’raha said with a smile. “The hero wins the day and enjoys their victory, before wending their way into another story.”

“Speaking of stories,” Syngigeim started, reaching into her bag. “The entire reason I dropped by in the first place!” She said, as she brought forth a leather notebook. “Did you wonder what my projects were for my vacation?”

“Projects? Isn’t a vacation supposed to be a time of rest?” G’raha asked, a small laugh ringing in his voice.

“Oh to be sure, I spent a few days lounging at home – I have a home in a residential district now – reading novels, drinking lots of fine wine, sorting out some of my personal relationships – but then I started on personal project number two. I keep a diary of my adventurers but this time, I thought I would write a memoir.” She said, her arm extending forward to give the book to him. “And I could use an editor and translator.”

Already he was reaching for the book. A personal memoir from the hero herself about her journey. It would be priceless. A chance to hear from her. Hear her tale her story through her words. He grabbed the tome and she let him take it. G’raha brought it to his chest, close to his heart. “I would be glad to assist you and-” His voice cracked and tears slid down his cheeks. “...would be honored to-” He was sniffling. “-to gift this story to the world, Warrior of Darkness.”

Syngigeim was tearing up as well, but her eyes were as bright as the glimmering stars. “I hoped you would.” She wiped those tears away from her eyes. “Shall I leave you alone to read, or shall I find some other book to read and sit beside you?”

“I would very much like that.” G’raha said brightly.

“Then I shall get to work on project number three. Learning the local alphabet. You will soon be at my mercy, Cabinet of Curiosities!” She said, with a grin and smacking her hands together eagerly.

G’raha laughed, a bright and high laugh. He could not recall when last he laughed like this. And he wondered how long it was that they both felt free and clear and happy like this. “Right, if you need any assistance, do not hesitate to ask. I look forward to our future collaboration, Syngi.” he said, relishing in this newfound purpose, the precious gift they gave each other.

“If this was project number three, what. may I ask, was the first?” G’raha later asked Syngigeim, his companion sitting slighty to the side of him, with books scattered around her.

She reached into a small pouch, and spread four Triple Triad cards across her hand. “I got into this card game and… well, long story short I’ve become a collector. I had to search for any new cards above all else.”

He gave a short laugh at that. Triad card collecting. An unexpected diversion for the Warrior of Darkness. But maybe not so far fetched. Syngigeim was surprisingly skilled at games and diversions such as those and he relished the competition. He would have to ask for a game at some point.

#syngigeim usynlonwyn #crystal exarch #G'raha Tia #ffxiv writing

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scarecrowandmrking · 6 years

Text

All That Is And Will Never Be (Mark Pellegrino/OC)

I took another sip of my wine and glared in ever increasing fury at the computer screen. It was two in the morning and even though I knew I had to get up early to make it out to the set on time, I just couldn’t end the argument and let HIM win. I could just imagine his wolfish smile off somewhere in LA as he realized that, for once in our twitter war of the past two years that he had finally shut me up on something. No way would I give him that kind of satisfaction.

If you actually thought with reason and not the err of rampant emotionalism, you would see what I’m talking about, he typed.

If you actually thought with care and not that stuffy headed Rand nonsense, you would see what I’m talking about, I wrote back.

Tell me where Rand went wrong.

Tell me where she didn’t?

Did you read any of the books we discussed?

Did you read any of mine?

There was a long pause before he wrote back, I really don’t consider Art Of Being An Asshole a useful political tome.

WHY? I asked him. You read Rand.

I closed the laptop with a grin. I could just see him sitting there stewing over that one for a while. Good. I had met the actor Mark Pellegrino many years ago when he was playing Jedikiah Price in The Tomorrow People and I was on a sister show on the CW. I had thought him rather imposing and remote. He had given me one of those tiny, barely there smiles I had seen in so many photos of him here and there. I had found his height and build both equally imposing and erotic, brushing up against him in an elevator going up to the place where the photo ops were being taken. He hadn’t said a word, but that quirky smile had stayed with me for a while. And I had to admit that later that night I did indulge in some vigorous hand under the covers fun at his imaginary expense.

But these days the infatuation had turned to fury as Mark and I had met each other again on social media. It had all started off as an angry exchange on a forum about social programs and had spiraled into an ongoing series of attacks on one another’s threads. I never knew when he might show up and vice versa. Though we had taken to fighting on DM after it became apparent that people had started to romanticize our beefs, even going so far as to post sexual fics of us online. Mark found them slightly annoying. I enjoyed reading a few before bed sometimes. Having met the man in person, I could at least attest to the fact that he was quite a sexy creature, though taller and more roguish and infuriating than he needed to be.

****************************************************************************************************

I slammed the script down on Mel’s desk.

“NO. NO. NO.”

Mel Aberman, producer of The Runaways, the show where I starred as a morally ambiguous leader of a government organization out to erase the living subjects of a failed experiment, just continued to stare at me with an annoyed but resigned look on his face. We had joked with one another about this very subject on more than one occasion. But I never thought in a million years that he would actually do it.

“Look, you should see how popular this guy is,” Mel tells me while typing away on his keyboard. He pointed to some things on Twitter I could have cared less about at that very moment. “You should see the viewership when he did the Rubin Report. People love this guy. Besides, with our ratings lately….”

My face immediately grew hot and red. There it was. Should have known that he would bring up the downturn in numbers for our show as of late to throw in my face.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to fall in love with this guy and have his babies or anything. Just play nice. You know, I worked with him a little on Number 23. Not a bad guy, once you get to know him.”

I rolled my eyes as I turned to stomp from the room, making sure to slam the door behind me for good measure. There was a loud thump as I collided with a dark pea coat, the soft fabric brushing against my cheek. My head shot up and I was face to face with Mark Pellegrino, my old nemesis and the person I had spent many a night hollering at all alone in my bedroom with my laptop in my lap. He wasn’t at all what I had pictured, wearing a black beanie and a pair of clear glasses. But there was no mistaking those twinkling, devilish eyes of his. Like he was enjoying his own private joke that you would never be a part of.

“Oh,” he said, his smile widening. But I noticed, as I had before, that his smiles were never the wide, open kind as much as a tiny curve of his lips that one could never feel quite sure about the intentions of. “We meet at last.”

“Don’t get too use to it,” I told him. “I’ll probably kill you by episode three.”

He tilted his head, considering me for a moment. “Me or my character?”

I shouldered my way past his as best I could considering moving him is a lot like trying to dislodge a small tree. “Both.”

When I made it to my car out in the lot I discovered that someone had placed a copy of The Art Of Being An Asshole on my hood.

“Asshole,” I hissed, my mind already working out just what level of revenge Mel would let me get away with on set.

********************************************************************************************************

The first couple of scenes I did with Mark made it quite obvious to everyone on set, and the viewing public, that at least our apparent rampant dislike for each other equaled a lot of tension on screen. Which translated into a spike in the ratings. I disliked him, strongly, and when I said certain likes about what a terrible egomaniac I thought he was, it was quite genuine. And when he told me that I was a snobby stick in the mud that needed to lighten up and trust somebody, he was pretty damn convincing about it. But there were also times when our characters did things like grab an arm or brush up against one another that left me pretty shaken up. And it angered me to feel anything for someone that was nothing but a gigantic pain in my ass most of the time these days.

And so we worked ourselves through most of the season avoiding each other as much as possible for two actors who were always rubbing on one another on screen. But at night we would return to our favorite hobby of tormenting the hell out of one another. The barbs were more personal now, the privacy of DM making us bolder about going at it than if we were being watched by the fans. I wasn’t sure at the end of it all if I wanted to jerk myself off or cry after spending most of the day and night around the guy. Sometimes I did both.

The episode I was dreading the most was episode twelves, All That Is And Will Never Be, where Mark and I have our first kiss after a fight in my character’s office. I stood off to the side of the office set as various crew worked their way around getting things ready. Today would be the kissing scene. Tomorrow the love scene. I had only done two on this show before, both with an actor I had known fairly well. It had been strange and not at all sexy to be doing something so intimate with so many people watching you. I glanced over to where Mark sat on the other side of the room, legs crossed with three books in his lap. Didn’t appear to be too worried about the whole thing from what I could tell.

When the time came I made my way around the big desk and sat down to look at my character’s computer, giving the impression that I was deep in a series of reports.

Mark’s character, Agent Charles Rickman, comes in a minute later and slams his palms down upon the desk with a sound so deafening I nearly topple out of my chair. Whoa! Not in the script. The fear and anxiety I feel when I glance up at his enraged face is pretty damn real.

“I saw the tapes!” Charles/Mark hollers, referring to my character being a double agent and letting the teen mutants escape the facility. “I know what you did. And I’m going to make damn sure you tell me everything you know.”

He runs around the desk and grabs me by the arms, pulling me towards the door. His grip is tight on my arm and I struggle for a few seconds before going into agent mode and punching him hard in the face. I tried not to hurt him, this was acting after all, but I may have kicked him in the leg...Just a little. What followed was a series of kicks and punches, all lightening fast and what we had been practicing for the past week, Mark was a boxer in real life so it can be kind of intimidating when his fist gets near your face. But I always knew he would pull back at the last second. No worries there.

But I was worried about the kiss, though. Halfway through a punch Mark pulls me in and presses his lips firmly to mine. I wasn’t expecting his lips to be so soft or his tongue to make its way into my mouth. It was a hungry open mouthed kiss and I felt a searing heat in the pit of my stomach. So this is what it felt like to be pressed up against him, his tongue playing with mine and his hand tangled in my hair. I moaned, wrapping one leg around him before I knew what I was doing. He swept one arm across the table and everything went to the floor. And then he was on top of me, both my legs holding him against me like a vice. I wanted him to rub against me until I came. I wanted…..

“CUT!” I heard someone yell somewhere off in the background. Mark was off of me in a second, turning around and walking off somewhere in the crowd. I just layed there, trying to get my breath and figure out what the hell had just happened. My pussy was dripping wet and cried out for a vigorous fucking. And I realized that what I wanted was for Mark to give me one. I shook my head, cursing myself for letting things get this far. I just needed more self control. He was an actor. This was a role for him. A job. And I was the chick he had been paired up with that he couldn’t stand. Nothing more.

*******************************************************************************************************

Mark was absent that night on Twitter and I wondered if maybe our make out session had gotten to him a little more than I thought it had. But when I got to the set the next day he was the same old Mark as usual, smiling that secretive half smile at the crew and returning to his studies of politics or whatever it was he was reading these days. He noticed me looking his way and gave me a little wave. I gave him the finger back.

The next scene takes place in my character’s apartment after they leave the office building. It just starts out with us making out right as we get through the door and it moves along into the bedroom. No real nudity, wasn’t that kind of show. But I would take my top off and only Mark and the set would know I was wearing skin colored pasties to cover my nipples. Sorry, people. Like I said, sex scenes are not as romantic as you think they are.

When the scene started I was once again thrown into a hot kiss with Mark, only this time things seemed different from before. His body moved against mine in a rougher, more desperate kind of way. His mouth started to nip at mine, at one point sucking on my lower lip in a way that made me moan against him and my pussy wetter than it already was. He lifted me up by my hips and carried me into the room, heading right for the bedroom without stopping on the couch as the script had said. Nobody stopped us though, guess the kissing and clawing looked too good to get in the middle of.

Mark flung me down on the bed, pulling away for a second to loosen his tie and throw it off, something that my lust fueled mind found terribly sexy at that moment. He got down on the bed beside me, as the script had directed and I quickly moved to straddle him, tearing off my blouse in the process. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but his hands moved up and down my side with a tenderness I hadn’t been expecting after the frenzied love making just moments before. I leaned my face down to kiss him, but he moved my head to the side to place open mouthed kisses along my neck, tongue darting out to skillfully lap at the most sensitive parts of skin. I moaned, grinding my pussy against him. Hard.

“You need this. You’ve always needed this. Only me. Only me,” he whispered in my ear.

I shuddered. Not in the script. I could see the dude liked to ad lib. I pushed it all out of my mind as I leaned back and rocked against him, the panties I was wearing and the pants he was wearing not doing much to keep cock and pussy from contact. He had somehow adjusted himself to where his cock was laying against his stomach and I rubbed the head of his dick between my thinly veiled labia. It was all like something two teens would do. And it felt fucking fantastic.

I leaned my head back as I felt myself coming upon his cock. I didn’t care about the camera on my face, capturing an O face that was actually real. For a second I also forgot about Mark, lost in that magical place a good damn orgasm can take you too. I collapsed onto Mark and he kisses me several times on the forehead. I didn’t remember till later that at that point the director had already yelled cut so Mark had not done it because it was part of the scene.

********************************************************************************************************

The first thing I did when I got out of there was run back to my trailer and fling myself down on my bed. I just needed to be alone for a while. I had had an actual fucking orgasm. On set. On top of another actor and I felt a lot of mixed up shit about it. Did he know that I had come? What would that be like seeing the dude on set later? Damn. Just. Damn. I didn’t want to think about all that right now. I wanted to think about my pussy, which was still wet and begging for more attention. With a sigh, I started to rub myself through my panties. I didn’t want to reach inside just yet. There needed to be a build up where I wanted to imagine it was Mark’s cock against me through the fabric. His hard, swollen cock I wanted to ride until he filled my pussy full of come.

A knock at the trailer door pulled me away from my fantasies with a start and I lay there cursing for a moment before getting to my feet to answer it. I expected to find my assistant or someone from the crew telling me that the director wanted me to come back to discuss the scene we had shot. I was shocked to see Mark standing there, his expression unreadable. I glanced over his shoulder but didn’t see anyone looking our way.

“May I come in.” he asked,

I stepped back, trying to think of why he would feel the need to talk to me in private. We didn’t really have that kind of thing going. Just social media squabbling and sneaking around each other on set.

Mark wrapped his arms around me and pushed me back until my back was up against the trailer’s refrigerator. There was a smile on his face that i hadn’t seen him use before. I imagined it was his real smile, a wide and gentle kind of thing that lit up his whole face and made me feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. He leaned down, kissing me on the nose.

“Are you okay after all that,” he asked me.

“Are you checking up on me,” I shot back, still thrown a little off balance that he was here, holding me as if we had been lovers for a long time. I still hadn’t got use to the feeling of his body pressed against mine yet. And, before I could stop myself, I became aware that i was rubbing myself against him in a fair imitation of what we had done before.

“Someone has to. When was the last time you trusted anybody? Really trusted somebody.”

“Not any of your business,” I told him, but my arms were still wrapped around him. I didn’t want him to leave. Nothing made much sense to me just then, but I did see that part clearly.

“I want to be that person. You just have to let me in.”

Mark kissed me again. But this time there was a slow seduction to his movements and every once in a while he would stop and stare into my eyes as if asking if what he was doing was alright with me. I felt emboldened by his gentleness, letting my hands run through his hair and over his body beneath his white button up shirt. I pushed against his chest and moved us both towards the bedroom in back, I wanted to get him in bed as fast as I could. And I made sure we ditched our clothes along the way, too.

“You're so beautiful,” Mark tells me, kissing his way along my naked skin. I fall back upon the bed and he spreads my legs, leaning his tall frame down to lick and suck on my wet pussy. I cried out, arching my back and digging my nails into his soft blond hair. I moaned his name as he worked on my swollen clit with his clever tongue, bringing me to an intense peak under his mouth in a short period of time.

“I need you,” I told him, urging him to get on top of me. I wanted to feel him ride my pussy and make me feel as good as he had made me feel with his mouth.

Mark followed me up further on the bed, smiling when I held my legs open for him and moaned impatiently. He plunged his tongue into my mouth at the same time he thrust himself inside of me. My body went rigid for a minute as the feeling of being stretched out and filled enveloped me a sensation that was somewhere between pleasure and pain. Then it was replaced with sheer ecstasy as he began to move inside of me, rocking against me in steady but ever quickening thrusts. He kissed my neck, my face and chest, moaning my name like some sort of mantra. His fingers gently removed my nipple coverings so he could suck on each nipple in turn. I smiled, biting my lower lip as I felt my second orgasm coming from somewhere deep inside of me. I it had ever been this good for me before with a lover, I couldn’t remember it. This felt like something new to me. As if I was experiencing sex for the first time.

“Fuck, yeah,” I heard Mark moan over me, his eyes were partly closed and his head was back a little, lost in the feeling of his impending orgasm. Looking at how beautiful and unguarded he looked in that moment, the calm and confident man I was use to replaced by this animalistic being consumed by his own sensations, pushed me over the edge. I bit him hard on the shoulder as I lost myself in the same explosion of pleasure that was consuming him, The sensation of being filled with his warm come mingled with the sound of him breathing heavily against my neck. I kissed the place where I had bitten him, wrapping my legs tightly around him to hold him in as long as I could. He just seemed to keep filling me up, my hand stroking his back as he continued to empty himself inside of me.

“We’ll be needed back on set soon,” Mark tells me a few minutes later as we lay wrapped up together beneath the covers, his arm cradling my head.

“You know, I think I changed my mind about wanting you to be killed off quick,” I tell him, kissing him on the chest.

“Oh? And what made you change your mind?”

“Seems I finally found something your good at.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.”

I smiled at him mischievously. “Prove it.”

#mark pellegrino #mark pellegrino fan fiction #Pellegrino #markpellegrinosex #markpellegrinoporn #supernatural lucifer #lucifer

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starsfadingbutilingeron · 7 years

Text

100% Cat Person

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100

Summary: Intro fic for mine and @ghoststrawberries au where Mob gets a cat and names her Milk!!

Rating: Gen. Audiences

Read On AO3: x

----

It was after school on a warm Autumn day, Mob was just leaving after his meetings with the Body Improvement Club and Telepathy Club. Tome had her arm hooked in Mob’s, jabbering on and on about one of her many extra-terrestrial theories while the Body Improvement Club’s members flanked behind Mob, each one clapping him on the back for going an entire lap around the track without passing out. Mob knew that in a few minutes he’d have to break from his friends and head into the city for work, but for the moment he was just enjoying the time he had with his group of friends.

“...which is why I always wear closed-toe shoes. You never know when an abduction may happen! Of course this causes a problem when, say, your parents want to go on a vacation to the beach and then you-” Tome cut off in the middle of her speech when a slight movement in the bushes near the edge of the schoolyard caught her eye. “Hey, did you guys see that?”

“Eh?” Ryohei squinted in the direction Tome was staring in. “I think it’s just a squirrel.”

“Or a trick of the wind,” Jun suggested.

“Save your small thinking for final exams!” Tome held up a hand to silence everyone else. “Did you ever think it could be the very thing that would prove the existence of an alien presence on our very planet? I’m going to investigate.”

Tome’s arm left Mob’s as she crept towards the bushes, arms out and finger tips waggling in anticipation to grab a hold of whatever creature may leap out at her. The other members of the Body Improvement Club huddled around Mob, peering curiously as Tome began to dig through the brittle branches and slick, rubbery leaves to uncover whatever lay in hiding.

“Whoa! You’re never gonna believe this!” Tome called out, her entire torso now enveloped by tightly bound branches that snapped against her eyes and tangled in her hair.

“What is it!?” Hideki called out.

“Did you actually find an alien??” Musashi asked.

“Unfortunately not,” Tome sighed, pulling herself out of the bushes and standing up, her back to the others. “But I did find this!!”

With a dramatic spin, Tome revealed the little bundle gathered in her arms. Two green eyes peered out from over the edge of Tome’s arm, a pair of pointed ears twitching towards the hushed noises of delight coming from the Body Improvement Club.

“It’s a cat,” Mob said quietly, eyes glued to the ball of fluff curled in Tome’s arms. His hand gripped uneasily around the strap of his schoolbag, sweat slicking his palms as he thought back to the last cat he’d seen in the schoolyard. Shaking the thought from his mind, Mob licked his lips and brought himself back into the conversation.

“I said isn’t she cute, Mob?” Tome asked. Mob had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed his friend moving closer to him with the cat. The other members of the Body Improvement were all gushing over the cat, patting her gently and murmuring expressions of how cute she was while the cat purred contentedly in Tome’s arms.

“Uh,” Mob blushed at the sudden shift in attention to him as the others noticed he wasn’t responding. “Y-Yeah, she’s really cute.”

“Set her down so she can move, Tome,” Musashi said, kneeling down to the pavement in anticipation.

Bending down, Tome set the cat on the ground and let her move about the loose circle the Body Improvement Club had formed around her. While everyone sat down to play with the cat, Mob remained standing. Shuffling his sneakers anxiously at the edge of the circle, he tried not to dwell on the memories of months spent alone and remind himself it wasn’t real.

“She’s pretty young,” Tome spoke up as she picked up a nearby twig and let the cat paw at it playfully. “I’d say about a year old.” Then, Tome looked up and saw Mob was still standing. “Mob, why don’t you pet the cat? You kind of look like you want to.”

“O-Oh?” Mob felt sweat begin to bead on his forehead. He did very much want to pet the cat, but was holding himself back from forming any attachment whatsoever. Keeping his gaze on Tome, Mob gave a small shrug and a nervous smile. “I guess I’m just not much of a cat person-”

Mob cut off when he noticed the feeling of something brushing up against his legs. Looking down, Mob saw the cat had traveled across the circle to him and was weaving herself between his ankles. He stared in silence as the cat’s smudgy nose peeked into view and then her green eyes were staring up into his.

She was a mix of white fur and very light gray tabby patches on her back and around her ears and the one smudge on her nose. As she looked up at Mob, she raised one of her paws with a striped patch on it and put it on the toe of his shoe. Giving Mob a long slow blink, the cat let out the softest of meows. When Mob remained silent, the cat gave out a louder, more insistent meow and rubbed up against Mob’s legs again to make sure he was paying attention.

“I think she wants you to pet her, Kageyama,” Hiroshi laughed, leaning back on his hands.

“Oh,” Mob tilted his head as the cat continued to stare up at him. The cat gave another impatient meow, making Mob laugh. Everyone else froze at the sound, they’d hardly ever heard more than an amused huff of breath come from their friend. “Okay,” Mob said, kneeling down to the cat’s level. “You win.”

Putting a shaking hand out, Mob reached for the animal’s small head. The cat was too eager to wait on Mob’s slow movements and met him halfway, pressing her head gently into his palm and running the edge of her shoulders under his warm fingers. Mob continued the motion, stroking the cat’s back as carefully as he could, right to the tip of her tail. By the time he was finished with that initial pet, the cat was rubbing against his knees and emitting a loud purr as she waited for the next stroke. Mob obliged, growing a little less apprehensive with each run of the cat’s silky fur against his palms.

The others slowly rose, each watching in silence as Mob played with the little cat. He seemed more relaxed than usual, wrapped up in eyeing the cat’s next move with a carefree smile on his face instead of being wrapped up in his own thoughts. It was only when he realized everyone was standing around, staring at him, that his smile wavered. Looking up, a strange sheen of anxiety took over his countenance; reaching down to pick up the cat, Mob slowly began to stand up, fighting the urge to turn and run as far as he could.

“What is it?” he finally asked, feeling his heartbeat hammer against his ribcage.

“Nothing just,” Tome smiled. “That cat really likes you, Mob.”

“Oh,” Mob felt his breathing steady just a little bit.

“You should adopt her, Kageyama!!” Jun cheered, his club members joining in with cheers of their own.

“Ah, no. I couldn’t,” Mob said, looking down at the cat now curled against his chest. “Ritsu’s allergic to cats. Besides, I have to get going to work soon anyways.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Tome drooped a little bit. “I’d take her, but my Mom freaks out when I touch the furniture. I don’t think she’d take a cat in the house very well.”

The Body Improvement Club mumbled similar responses, each one looking guilty as they refused the cat a home.

“Oh, well, I guess then maybe she should stay here for now,” Mob said, setting the cat down on the ground again and then straightening back up. Unable to bear another look at the cat, Mob straightened his schoolbag and looked at his phone. The screen was lit up with missed called from Reigen, a beacon of tardiness in the carefree haze Mob had momentarily found respite in. “I have to get going.”

The group of friends all said their goodbyes, going in their separate directions. Mob was the last one left near the schoolyard, his footsteps dredging slower than usual. As he neared the edge of the sidewalk, he spared a glance back in the cat’s direction. She was rolling around on the sun soaked pavement, her ears perking as she spied Mob looking at her. Rolling to her feet, she gave a loud meow and waited for Mob to make the next move.

Taking a deep breath, Mob turned around and kneeled down. Sticking his hand out, he motioned for the cat to come closer. Almost instantly, the cat came trotting over and was soon bumping her head against Mob’s hand for pats again. Mob smiled, a light bubble of laughter rising up in his chest as he stroked the little cat. Reaching out, Mob picked the cat up and stood to leave. As he walked towards the Spirits N’ Such office, Mob wondered if his Master could help him figure out a way to keep this cat.

----

Reigen sat hunched over his desktop, fingers flying wildly over the keyboard as he responded to emails from potential clients at the speed of light. The sound of the office door opening and closing broke his concentration for a split second, but when he caught a glimpse of Mob’s familiar round head, he went back to typing. Without looking up from his computer screen, Reigen waved a scolding hand over the edge of the screen at his pupil.

“Oi, Mob! I gave you that cell phone for it to be answered, yeah? If you’re going to make a habit of being late and ignoring my calls, I’m gonna have to dock your pay and th…” Reigen trailed off, his typing hand slowing to a halt as his eyes raised up from his computer to take a second look at Mob as he walked in the small office. “Mob?”

“Yes, Shishou?” Mob asked, face innocent as a lamb as he turned to lock eyes with Reigen.

Reigen dipped a suspicious eyebrow, folding his hands under his chin with a dramatic turn of his wrists. “What is that distinctly cat-shaped lump under your shirt?”

Mob looked down at the writing bump under his gakuran, trying to maintain his composure as a striped paw stuck out the top and tapped against his chin. Keeping a level gaze with Reigen, Mob blinked once before replying. “...A cat.”

Taking in a sharp breath, Reigen leaned back in his swivel chair; folding his hands over his chest and pursing his lips. Raising one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, Reigen pushed that same hand up through his hair and ran it through to rest at the back of his neck to keep his head from popping off in exasperation. “What is she doing here ?”

“I found her in the schoolyard,” Mob explained, taking the cat out of his uniform and bringing her out into the open. “She needs a home.”

“Right, of course,” Reigen folded his hands and pointed them at Mob. “So, you’re taking her home with you at the end of the day and that’s where she’ll stay, correct?”

“Well…” Mob tilted his head to the side. “I can’t really take her to MY house because Ritsu’s allergic…So…”

“Yeah?” Reigen prompted.

“I was thinking she could just stay here?” Mob said. The cat in his arms gave a single meow, as if nodding her assent to the proposition.

“Ah!! Wh- Mob, I-” Reigen shot up in his seat, rising to his feet. With a dramatic brush of his suit, Reigen took a deep breath and framed his hands a few inches away from the sides of his head, jerking them at the wrists to gesture at Mob and his cat. “Mob, this is a business. The only room for nonhumans in here that we have is for evil spirits! And even then we exorcise those!! So, there is absolutely no room for something that is neither human nor a paying customer.”

“We kept Dimple,” Mob muttered.

“More like can’t get rid of Dimple,” Reigen crossed his arms. Then, with a sudden jolt, his arms flailed back out around him like windmills until they came to rest on his hips. “That is beside the point! You can’t always get what you want, Mob. Now, the best place for your - ah - for the cat is the Animal Shelter. After work, you should take her there and say goodbye.”

Mob’s face revealed little in how he felt after hearing his Master’s words, he simply muttered a soft “Okay,” before turning to go sit down.

Reigen went back to his desk, eyes flitting back to Mob as they both sat down to wait for their clients to show up. As he watched Mob pet the little cat on his lap, Reigen began to try and rationalize keeping the cat in the office. As soon as he caught his own thoughts, Reigen gave his head a sharp jerk. There was absolutely no way he would cave. He would not let that cat weasel its way into his place of business. Absolutely no chance.

The afternoon dragged on in typical fashion. One or two actual cases came through, people with evil spirits attached to them that Mob easily exorcised with a swish of his finger. The rest of the clients were the kind that Reigen could handle on his own; or rather, the rest were customers with no actual evil spirit attached to them to speak of. All the while as Reigen worked, he kept an eye trained on Mob; that afternoon, his pupil was spending his downtime playing with the stray cat he’d brought in instead of reading manga or sighing about Tsubomi as he gazed out the window. And, although he almost kicked himself for admitting it, Reigen had never seen Mob look more engaged with anything as he did with that cat.

As Mob gathered himself up to leave in the evening, Reigen kept looking up from his desk at his pupil. Mob was holding the cat carefully close to his chest, walking slower than normal and stopping at every opportunity even if it were something as miniscule as picking up a discarded paperclip. Clicking the computer mouse to such an excess it began to appear he had a personal vendetta against technological rodents, Reigen pushed away from his desk with a heavy groan.

“Hey, Mob, listen…” Reigen rubbed at his temples with one long hand. Mob spun towards Reigen, a faint glimmer of hope spreading across his face as he waited to hear what his Master had to say. “Look, I guess...as long as you’re the one taking care of her, mind you...I guess your cat can stay here.”

“Really?” Mob asked, holding his cat up so the tops of her ears bumped against his chin.

“Yes, really,” Reigen nodded, motioning towards himself. “Now, hand her on over and head straight home before your parents send the cops after you.”

“Okay,” Mob nodded, holding the cat out to Reigen. Reigen reached out for the cat, but found Mob wouldn’t let go even as the cat was safely in Reigen’s hands. Before he could open his mouth, Reigen caught the anxious look on Mob’s face as he looked at the cat in anyone’s hands but his. “You’ll...You’ll look after her, won’t you, Shishou? At night, I mean.”

“Will I w-” Reigen took a deep breath, wiping all trace of exasperation off his face and matching Mob’s earnest gaze with one of his own. “Yeah, Mob, I’ll look after her. Don’t worry about it! I am the Greatest Psychic of the Twenty-First Century after all!! I think I can handle a little cat!”

Mob seemed satisfied with that answer, giving Reigen a small nod. Patting the cat one last time, Mob headed out the door and began to make his way home.

Once Mob was gone, Reigen looked down to the cat in his arms and she blinked slowly back at him.

“Guess you’re coming home with me then, huh?” Reigen asked, and the cat meowed in response. “Yep. That’s what I thought. Well, let’s get going then. I’m beat, how about you?”

Another meow in response.

“Yeah, yeah, must’ve been a real tough day for you,” Reigen rolled his eyes as he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “Can’t imagine the tortures you went through getting to play with Mob all afternoon.”

The cat gave another meow.

“Yes, of course I’m being sarcastic,” Reigen said, locking the office door and heading downstairs and out onto the city streets to head home.

----

“You are pushing me over the edge, cat,” Reigen gave the cat yet another warning glare across the office the next afternoon. The cat stood poised on the windowsill, one paw hovering above the rim of Reigen’s potted plant. “Touch that plant again and I’ll-”

Reigen was cut off by the opening and closing of the office door; turning with his finger still pointed in warning towards the cat, Reigen saw Mob step into the room and give a small wave.

“Oh, hey, Mob,” Reigen waved back. “I was just talking to the cat.”

“Was she good for you?” Mob asked, crossing to the window and picking up his cat.

“Hm?” Reigen lifted his eyebrows, thinking of his once-too-many knocked over window plant and then shaking it off as a petty concern for the moment. “Ah, yeah! She was fine. I stopped by the pet store on the way home and got her all of that cat stuff she needs, you know. All of which came out of your pay, by the way. Because this is your cat. I’m not paying for her.”

Reigen had, in fact, paid for everything himself.

“Okay, Shishou,” Mob nodded, suppressing a small smile as he saw through the lie.

“So, uh, anyways,” Reigen gave a cough. “You think of any names for your cat?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mob nodded, smiling as the cat booped its smudgy nose against Mob’s. “I thought of one.”

“Well then! Let’s hear it!” Reigen held his hands up as if to throw a spotlight on Mob. “Or should I keep calling her ‘cat’ forever?”

“I want to name her Milk!” Mob said, looking proud at having come up with the name on his own.

“Milk?” Reigen clarified.

“Uh-huh,” Mob nodded.

“Why Milk?”

“Cats like milk and I like milk, and I like cats,” Mob said, scratching Milk behind her ear. “So, Milk is a perfect name for her.”

“Heh,” Reigen laughed, shaking his head as he dug his hands into his pockets. “Milk it is, then.”

“Milk,” Mob murmured the name, smiling at his cat as she batted at his silky bangs.

Reigen turned back towards his desk, smiling as he sat back down.

“You know, Mob,” Reigen said as he turned back to his computer. “Milk knocked over my plant. More than once.”

“Did you try playing with her?” Mob asked. “She probably just wanted your attention.”

“Oi, don’t defend her!” Reigen pointed a finger at Milk. “She’s a vicious plant mercenary!!”

Mob looked at Milk, then back at Reigen. “Well, I’m glad you two are becoming friends so fast,” Mob smiled, turning to go sit down.

Reigen turned back to his computer, typing away at more responses to clients. Every now and then, the sound of scurrying paws would dart across the floor, almost always followed by Mob’s soft laughter. Pressing a hand to his mouth to hide his own grin, Reigen silently thanked whatever had brought Milk to Mob. Working with an esper as strong as Mob, Reigen had seen some incredible power exhibited through his student; but nothing quite so powerful as the joyful laugh of a boy playing with his cat.

#beth writes #milk au #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 fic #mob psycho 100 fic

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