#I can just imagine silver wolf trying to get you to climb out of the ship's window

[kiana-kaslana-423]

!! Not comfy with men will block on interaction !!!

Imagine Silver Wolf still being mad at Herta for deleting her accounts so she looks for something to blackmail or get Herta mad with but than she finds out Herta has a sister,,

Your Herta's sister, Herta cares very deeply about you and you're very important to her so Silver Wolf wants to take advantage of this like becoming your friend or something to piss off Herta so she begins to talk to you! You guys surprisingly quickly get along and start to talk online and in real life a lot more after that! She eventually gets a crush on you and you guys start to date!!

She almost forgot what she originally wanted to do but now she's in a predicament because you guys have to keep this a secret from your sister now and that's definitely going to be difficult

it basically plays out like one of those funny 'forbid' teen love stories-

“ I thought you said she wasn't gonna be on the ship at this

time!! Ugh! this closet is so cramped! Do i really have to

hide in here?? - ”

[menagerie-of-monsters]

Word Game

I got tagged by @space-cadead! My words are:

CLEAN - The Sorceress and the Incubus, Echoes of the Void Book 1

At all the edges of my senses I could always find Rain. If I felt the position of my body, I knew where I was, and that Rain was several thousand feet below me in a seated position. If I scented the room, I caught the phantom smell of pine and clean air with her every breath. When I tried to focus on the quietness of the room, I heard the sound of her voice as she spoke. I couldn't not sense her, either, I discovered, as I tried to give her some amount of privacy. Everything I knew about familiars came from the side of the magic-user, which only made sense, as the number of documented sapient familiars could be counted without moving off of one's fingers. But now, on the other end of that relationship, I discovered that it was only the mage who could control the openness of the soul-bond. If Rain wanted to block me out, she could. If she wanted to reach me, there was nothing I could do about it, save to control my emotions.

SHADE - Captured by the Fae Beast

The crown prince was watching me with one of those smoldering, half-lidded gazes that men get when they're waiting for you to notice them in a club, so they can sexily walk across the room at you and take you onto the dance floor to grind. Dain didn't do the sexy-walk-and-grind, but he definitely flicked his wolf gaze down my body, making no effort to hide his observation. He was wearing gray tonight, a deeper shade than my metallic dark silver, with silver chains linking the piercings on his ears. "Hello, Crown Prince Sundamar!" I said, falling into a voice that regrettably sounded like a TV announcer. "I did not know you were there!" "I'm aware," he said, his voice low and purring. "I didn't imagine you were walking like that for my appreciation." Dain walked towards me with his own saunter, which was more of a predatory stalk. "I did, however, appreciate it."

SLIGHT - Sacrificed to the Goddess, The Incarnation of Veskaia Book 1

"If you wish to drive me mad, that's a good way to do it," he said huskily. "My tail is very sensitive, and a daemon woman will often hold or tug her men by the base of their tails when she wants them to desire her." "Men?" I asked, doing it again with slow deliberation. "If she can afford it, a daemon woman usually has three or four, and sometimes many more," he said, with amusement on top of the obvious arousal. "Brothers, often, especially twins, but not necessarily." Arellath groaned when I slid my fingers up the underside of his tail to the join of his body, and dropped his face down to mine, his nose alongside mine and his mouth a bare finger's-width from mine. "I think I need to keep you occupied, your glory," he said, with a slight rock of his hips against me. "May I kiss you?" "Please," I answered, my voice going breathy.

ROSE - The Dragon's Rose

"A monster," he said, a shudder in his voice. "A serpent of the Devil. I was lost in the woods, and there were wolves. I… accepted its hospitality." His voice took on a tone of pleading. "I didn't know, Alisa, I didn't know what it was. I just wanted to bring you back a rose, it had so many, climbing all over the tower, and… and…" Father shuddered, and dropped his head again. "I have to go back," he said dully. "The mare will take me back. I broke off a rose and it's going to kill me." Alisa stared at him. A monstrous serpent. A tower covered in roses. That story Galen had told her about the lindworm in the woods. Father, stealing a rose. She climbed up to her pallet and picked up the book of plants, then clambered back down to Father. She flipped it open to the picture of the sun-in-the-winter roses, able to find it by heart, and laid the book down in front of Father. He looked at it with that same dead look in his eyes, as if he didn't see it. "Papa," she said, trying for gentle instead of scared and angry, and not succeeding, "Did it look like this?"

As to some words for others... how about steam, night, smart, gray?

@brynwrites @karolinarodrigueswrites @sio-writes

[ethereaiin]

Stigma | genshin impact

synopsis; Despite the numerous attempts to end each other's lives, one thing is for sure; you're the only person he could truthfully call his rival.

features; you and scaramouche

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

      Fighting her was always interesting.

       Whether he was taking it seriously or dueling her just for fun, there was never a time when his fellow Harbinger hadn’t tried her absolute best to bring him down. He could feel it in each swing of her sword; the determination to beat him burned almost as brightly as the cracked pyro vision dangling against her hip.

       There was never a clear winner when it came to their duels and he would have it no other way. Her constant calls to challenge him kept him from feeling the boredom the lack of any action brought and ruining it now proved to be nothing short of disadvantageous for him. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, he never had it easy in facing her. While her technique was nothing too remarkable, it was the strength behind her every hit that had him reeling and struggling to deal the final blow against her.

       In the end, it didn’t matter. He’d get rid of her eventually. The moment she can no longer entertain him is when he’d finally kill her. It was bound to happen soon, no matter how much her strength appalled him.

       “Scara!” The shortened call of his name exclusively used by the tenth Harbinger caught his attention and with a tightened frown he turns to face her.

       She stands before him, a grin spread across her face and eyes bright with a look of unique hunger. Although she approaches him casually as if she were greeting a friend, the slight flex of her arms exposed by her revealing blouse and the twitch of her fingers suggest otherwise. He knew better than to take her relaxed demeanor for granted. Beneath her cheerful exterior lied a wolf in hiding. The moment he let his guard down would lay claim to his end.

       “Ready for round two?” Her eyes twinkle with a certain look that has him slightly on edge. Usually, he wasn’t one who’d refuse a fight especially with someone he considered strong enough to entertain him, but the expression she wore suggested she had something hidden up her sleeve, and if there was anything he hated more than boredom it was being taken by surprise.

       With a frown still marring his delicate features, he fully turned towards her with navy eyes hardened into a withering glare. Most people, especially those beneath him, would have visibly flinched or even lower their gaze yet the girl standing before him was never one to back down. Instead, her grin grew wider and the excitement she felt at finally garnering his full attention showed itself in the form of flickering flames licking the ground she stood upon.

       Her uncontrollable power was yet another thing that made fighting her all the more fun. Unlike most vision holders, she was never one who overly relied on her elemental abilities, and instead, it was her own personal strength that won many of her duels. It was impressive, to say the least, to not only gain the attention of the Tsaritsa but to become one of her eleven faithful Harbingers without the reliance on a vision. Though all of this was not something he’d never be willing to admit aloud.

       Her hand raises from her side and only a second passes before the length of her arm engulfs in flames and her favored sword appears in her grip. Her grin never fades and instead grows when she noticed the moment she armed herself so had he.

       “So you were expecting me.” An amused laugh escapes her lips as she twirls the sword in her hand to assume a familiar stance. “To think you actually enjoy our little fights.”

       Instead of saying anything, he merely scoffed with a look that suggested spending any time with her was utterly repulsive. And it was, at least that’s what he thought before he found himself almost impatiently awaiting the moment she’d appear in front of him to demand a fight. When weeks passed without her showing up even once he felt an odd sense of unease and even slight disappointment. Now that she was here before him once again, those muddled feelings seemingly disappeared and his current expression was a betrayal of what he truly felt.

       “Instead of wasting so much time talking, how about you actually try and beat me?”

       At his words and the smug quirk of his lips, she snarls before quickly throwing herself at him. Her sword is raised, silver edge emblazoned in a glowing crimson that signals an incoming blast, and just as it is about to strike his shoulder, a crackling vine of violet electro deflects it. Though she doesn’t back away from him like he had expected her to and instead she takes him by surprise and raises her non-dominant hand, engulfed in orange-red flames, in an attempt to deck him across his face. He grunts, his lips slightly agape from her surprise attack, as he twisted away from her and out of her range.

       Despite his quick reflexes, the heat of the explosion could still be felt against his cheek and even the pyro vision holder herself was affected by her own ability. Her hair was slightly singed and the right side of her face was reddened from the tiny licks of fire that managed to touch her skin. Though she didn’t appear all too bothered with her failure to land a hit and simply gritted her teeth. Her hand, the one she tried to use to hit him with during her initial attack, was charred; the skin blistered and torn from the uncontrollable intensity of her flames. It looked painful, and the thought of her hurting herself to get to him made him momentarily hesitate in his attack.

       Her own vision was turned against her which subsequently made her abilities dangerous not only to those she attacked, but to herself as well. For a moment he wondered just how far she was willing to go to prove herself.

       At her side, he could see her injured hand tremble slightly though it’s quickly stopped when she visibly clenches it. When his eyes meet her own, her gaze is hardened into a fierce glare and her lips were pulled into a tight frown.

       “Scaramouche,” She starts, and among the use of his full name her tone is also missing the characteristic cheer that he had become so used to her addressing him with. “Today’s the day we’ll finally put an end to these duels.”

       “One of us will emerge as the clear victor. . . and the strongest.” She continues and as her puzzling words continue to spew from frowning lips, her sword once again glows with crimson flames. “No matter what I don’t want you to hold back, even if that means you killing me.”

       He wasn’t used to this side of her. Her overly serious expression lacked any of the excitement he was more accustomed to seeing on her face and with the added dread of her words he couldn’t help but stare at her as if what she said was the most outrageous thing in the world. The flash of shock that crossed his face was quickly obscured behind his glower and with more resolve than he possessed during previous fights, he readied himself to attack.

       The day he anticipated from the start has finally arrived. He knew their fights, no matter how entertaining they were, would eventually come to an end. Although he expected it to be on his terms rather than her own. For him, things felt too unfinished to call it a satisfying end. Her death now wouldn’t give him that sense of achievement he anticipated when he defeated her.

       “Do you honestly think I care about killing you?”

       His words were purposely spoken in a cold tone to distance himself from his internal unease. There should have been no hesitation, he knew that, and yet that was all he could come up with to explain deliberately stalling their fight with talking.

       Why did he not want to kill her when he was once so eager to in the past?

       “That’s too bad,” A smile rose to her lips though it appeared far too somber to be created out of her usual joy. “I. . . thought we were closer than that.”

       There’s a moment her smile persists before her eyes flutter shut and the flames running along the edge of her sword continuously grow in intensity until spiels of fire fell off the sword to the melted snow beneath her feet. The heat was almost unbearable from the little distance he stood away from her and he couldn’t even begin to imagine just how painful it had to have been to her who stood directly next to it. Yet she looked completely unbothered as if there were nothing at all that could slow her resolve.

       Her chest rises and falls with a deep exhale and before he could even blink, she’s charging at him once more with steely eyes and unbroken determination. It felt as if the world slowed to a halt. The chilly breeze of the frigid mountaintop they stood upon seemingly faded from existence, all he could feel was the heat of her flame; the fire of her will. She was never one he could ignore as he did with those he saw as beneath him. No matter how much he attempted to get away from her, she was always there to force herself into his life and into the small world he confined himself to. Despite his intense dislike for all things that stray from his interest in conflict, he found that blazing fire of hers to be beautiful.

       The sharp clang of her sword colliding with his electric barrier disturbed the silence of the mountain before being shortly followed by a decimating explosion. The force was enough to knock him off his feet and noticing there was not a follow-up attack to his obvious falter, he knew it had to have been the same for her, if not worse. He winces slightly at the prickling sensation that climbs the length of his arms and legs. The dark marks that stain his porcelain skin is an indicator of her fire’s strength and for it to have even pierced through his shield meant that she must have suffered even greater injuries than his own.

       The melted snow beneath the palms of his hands does little to soothe his burns and as he looks around the small clearing he sees that her fire overtook much of the area. The enclosing trees around them were set ablaze and the blanket of snow that covered the ground was effectively melted in a perfect circle in proximity to their clash. The ends of his clothes were singed and his hat lied strewn behind him, yet despite his disheveled appearance his gaze couldn’t help but focus on finding the familiar figure of the pyro vision holder.

       Ash, emitted from the trees around him, obscured his vision and the smell of smoke was heavy in the air. He scanned the area before him with an unfamiliar sense of anxiousness and when he finally spotted her collapsed figure a bit of distance away from where he landed, he had to keep himself from breathing a sigh of relief. Never had he ever felt such trepidation in regards to the safety of someone he once considered to be nothing more than a nuisance. Though the thought of her earlier attack, the obvious fierce strength she put in both her fire and strike; he knew there was a chance she would not survive it. She was more than aware of her unique predicament regarding her vision and the repercussions it had on her, yet she was still willing to put herself at risk in order to do what? Kill him? End the rivalry they had once and for all?

       At his side, his fist clenched in anger at not only himself but at the unconscious girl who lied inches away from his approaching form. Sure, at first it might have been fun to push her to the edge; to see how far she was willing to prove herself to him after his continuous jabs at her lack of control over her own power. He thought of her as pathetic when he first heard of her. For a pyro vision holder to not even be able to summon their own flames was unheard of and for that very same person to join the high ranks as a Fatui Harbinger only made him question the very organization he joined. Though he quickly learned there was a lot more to her than the fact that she was unable to use her damaged vision correctly.

       She was strong. Not only in a literal sense, but her willpower was insanely resolute. No matter what he said or the injuries he caused her, she wouldn’t back down not even when he clearly prevailed over her with his electro abilities. Throughout Teyvat it was relatively accepted that vision holders were favored by the gods and therefore blessed with abilities that made them almost superhuman, so for her to have that part of her denied and still exist as someone he couldn’t refute the strength of; he couldn’t help but feel nothing other than impressed with her.

       These were things he could never say to her aloud and though he couldn’t allow himself to be honest with her, the thought of her death only continued to heighten that incomplete feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t allow her to die and although he couldn’t completely understand his own reasoning, he knew it wouldn’t bring him satisfaction for her to die by her own hand rather than his.

       Once he makes it to her side, he finds her eyes hazily focusing on him as he kneels beside her fallen form. Her hair is fanned out behind her head, the color deeply contrasting the white snow beneath her and her skin is paler than he remembers. Burns as well as scars mar her face caused from the earlier explosion and the clothes she wears is ripped and singed, exposing her skin to the frigid temperatures of the mountaintop.

       “It looks like I failed, huh?” She breathes a mirthless laugh and hissing through her clenched teeth, she manages to sit herself up. “Going all out like that wasn’t my greatest idea. . .”

       "It was foolish." He agrees and his frown returns to display his disapproval of her risky move. "You were close to killing yourself."

       "That was the point. If I couldn't kill you I was hoping my fire would do the job." She explains as her eyes flit across his face for any signs of aggression, though he masks his expression well behind a glare. "There's no reward without some risk. Obviously my plan didn't work out too well anyway."

       Noticing the slight sway of her body, he reaches out towards her, his arm stretching across her back to rest his hand against her shoulder as a means of support. She glances up at him, her brows creased and mouth agape. Her confusion is apparent on her face though he pays her little mind and instead his attention is taken by the shattered remains of her pyro vision.

       “It’s. . . broken?”

       Her voice is once again in a different tone than what he was used to and her expression was nothing short of what he could only describe as true despair. While she was never the best at controlling her flames, especially after the initial damage her vision took, now that it was completely destroyed; it meant she no longer possessed the ability to even call forth the pyro archon’s fire. Usually, the visions were meant to be indestructible; unable to be destroyed by normal means, yet at her side he could clearly see the crimson shards of her once glowing vision.

       He wondered if this meant she was no longer recognized by the pyro archon.

       “Well, it was only a matter of time before that happened.”

       When he glances back at her, she’s no longer wearing a sorrowful look. Her eyes weren’t as bright as they once were and the light smile she wore on her face wasn’t at all convincing. He couldn’t understand why she would want to conceal her true feelings towards the loss of her vision when it was clear that she never anticipated it. He lightly squeezes her shoulder, forcing her to look away from her broken vision to meet his gaze.

       “We’ll get you another one.”

       His words are to the point, rough and spoken without too much thought. Yet it attracts her attention and something akin to hope glimmers in her eyes that distinctly reminds him of the light he remembered them once holding.

       “We. . .? I-” She pauses for a moment. “Don’t you want to kill me? Why would you help me?”

       Logically, it was the opportune time to finish her off and declare himself the winner of this little duel once and for all, yet the idea lacked appeal. To kill her now felt as if he were robbing himself of something he couldn’t quite comprehend and nothing bothered him more than not knowing something. With some time he hoped he could find the answer to his hesitation when it came to her and maybe along the way their rivalry could reach a satisfying end.

       “If I kill you, I’d rather it be on equal terms. There’s no fun in ending you in this pathetic state.”

       She laughs, a cough interrupting her half way though her smile persists even through her small fit. “Of course you’d say something like that, Scara.”

       He purposely looks away from her grinning face, the small flutter felt in his chest adding onto his confusion. Where he was once certain of his hate towards her, he no longer knew what it was he exactly felt. It wasn’t hate, he was sure of that now that the idea of even sharing the same space as her didn’t repulse him, but it wasn’t as if he liked her either. For now, he could only think of her as nothing more than neutral. Someone he didn’t hate, nor like, but tolerated. She was his rival and for the time being that would be the title that best encompassed her existence to him.

       She was a person strong enough to be worthy of his respect. Nothing more, nothing less.

       His hand that rested on her shoulder lowers to her waist, grasping it as he lifted himself up along with her. He could feel her burned hand gripping his clothes and in a sense he could also feel the trust she was beginning to place into him. Bit by bit, he was sure their relationship would change and soon enough he’d know just what these odd feelings towards her meant.

       Even if the pyro archon abandoned her, he wouldn’t. Not until he got the answers he sought and the fight he wanted from her.

       “Once you’re all healed up we’ve got pyro visions to hunt.”

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 11)

Hello Darlings, it’s been a long time coming, but here is the next part of The Chain. (: Please know that there is a little bit of forcing in this chapter to make things work, but its called a plot hole, not a plot no (((: Also, she is nice and long for you guys since it has been sometime since she got some TLC. 

I’ve got two words for you all: Time Travel.

Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. Stupidity ensues.

Enjoy

Find the rest of the fic here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

tag list:  @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore,  @redqueenetwork, @tranquil-dusk (I’m trying to add you but for some reason it wont @... the same problem happens with @thatoddgirl777 and I have no idea how to fix it)

(/Mare/)

The barge glides through the murky water of the river and beyond the polished silver railing I rest my hand on, the shore of the Stilts rolls by like a faded oil painting. Ahead of me, hanging over the water, is an old tree Bree once dared me to crawl out on. The branches skim the water like skeletal fingers. I curl my own fingers around the railing in response to the memory of Bree’s laugh. I hope I get to hear it again, echoing in my parent’s town home. 

           The footsteps behind me are too light to be Cal. Even with all the work he has done to learn subterfuge, he is still a large human being. He’ll never be very good at sneaking up on anyone. I force an inhale when warm air washes over my side though. 

           Maven rests his forearms on the railing to watch the Stilts with me, his jaw tight and his eyes dark. I didn’t see him earlier today before we cast off, and I made sure he had no reason to speak with me now. I left nothing in those cells when I rescued Farley, not even a dusting of blood for Elara to use against me. Whatever he has come to discuss, it will define every point from now until the end.

           “Have you heard of the chess move known as the King’s Snare?” His voice is softer than I thought it would be, given how hard the planes of his face are.

           I glance at him warily, chewing on a response. I don’t want to talk to him about chess. I know he’s a master of it, that in all the years they played, Cal never beat him. Cal, the future general and war strategist who could throw together a plan in minutes with nothing but a handful of Reds, Ardents, and Silvers, never beat the boy before me. I don’t know why I think I have a hope of beat him or Elara.

           “No. I don’t play chess.” I murmur letting the wind shift the loose hairs hanging by my cheeks. It plays in his curls too, tussling them like a loving hand.

           The corner of his lips quirk up in a ghost of a smile before he turns to face me. He doesn’t flinch from my gaze, but that smile does fall. Pressing off the railing to stand at his full height, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought. “It’s a complex maneuver, and requires turns upon turns of preparation. It is the only strategy you can play once you initiate it. In each step, you make it appear as if you are losing. You let your opponent think they have won, and in the final step of preparation, you let your queen be taken and your king be cornered in a check mate.”

He shrugs before looking back onto the bank. His eyes sweep along the shacks on their tottering stilts. “Then, you take the opposing king with the only piece you have left. A pawn.”

           I raise a brow at it before saying, “sounds complicated. I don’t have the patience for playing the long game, and I especially don’t like playing with people’s lives like they are pieces in my game.”

           A fire lights in his eyes as he drags them over me, his expression hardening again. “I’m not so sure that’s the truth.”

           His words are a warning in and of themselves. Squaring my shoulders to him and stabbing my nails into my palms, I purse my lips in a line to swallow my retort. We stand in a stalemate for a moment before he reaches a finger out to let a strand of my hair curl around it. His expression crumbles for just a moment before that mask slides up and hides the wounded boy underneath.

           “Let’s not play this game Mare.” He bows his head and his lips almost ghost over my brow. I turn my head to the side to avoid the touch.

           “I just told you I’m not playing games.”

           His chuckle is humorless. With a quick step he closes the space between us completely and I have to crane my neck to meet his eye. 

           “You’re still useful to me and mother, but Cal has overstayed his welcome by a few years. His whole life actually, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

           No more dancing around it then, we are going full in with the truth. I twist my lips to the side, letting my sneer finally grace my features. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you two get away with what you did a second time, you’re wrong.”

           “Even if it means you lose everything you have coming?” He asks me that as if he actually cares. It makes me reel back while he smiles like a wolf. “We know Mare, and while it’s adorable watching you attempt to play against us, you played your final card last night.”

           My lightning dances on my fingertips. What I wouldn’t give for Tyton’s brain lightning, so that I could turn Maven’s insides into jelly and leave him on this deck before going after Elara. I should have ended all of this weeks ago. I could have, I know that for a fact. 

           “I haven’t played any of my cards yet.” I warm Maven with a raised chin. I let the mask of Mareena disappear and I let him see Mare Barrow, the girl who bested two kings, the woman who has seen more than enough front lines, and who was born in a storm on top of a mountain. She has been broken and put back together so many times that she knows every piece of herself better than she ever did before. She thrives in storms and turns them to her will like this boy turns words to his.

           “You haven’t seen anything Maven. Don’t for one second think you have cornered me.” My lips curl into a small smile as I look him over with a critical eye. “Besides, while you’re playing chess, I am playing another game entirely.”

           A muscle in his jaw flutters when I speak, and his eyes darken further.

           Pressing to my toes, I let my next words caress his lips like a kiss. “And if you two do know everything, I’m surprised you haven’t removed any and all letter openers from my reach while we’ve been together.”

           His face pales in a flush, and the air around us climbs in temperature so quickly beads of sweat begin to prickle on my brow. Ignoring the monster I’ve obviously poked awake, I set my hand on his chest right above his pounding heart and drop my eyes to his lips before looking back up to meet those icy blue eyes.

           “And as for your mother, I think I killed her too quickly the first time.”

           His tongue darts across his teeth for a second before disappearing as his lips pull back in a sneer. There is a flash of something akin to uncertainty in his eyes though. A thrill rushes through me. She didn’t tell him that part, and she might have even kept his own death from him. Interesting.

           Sliding back away from him and dropping my hand, I take in his flittering emotions he desperately tries to keep under control. I can’t image what is passing through his mind. If Elara didn’t tell him about their deaths, what else has she kept from him? It might be worth it to poke a little more and find out.

           Even as the thought of prying him open and exposing his hollow insides thrills me, I can’t help thinking of how he spent hours near my bedside after Samson had turned me inside out and left me a bleeding corpse. Nor can I ignore that once upon a time, a part of him had loved me.

           “Oh Maven,” I breathe, my chest aching once more as I look him over. “You could have been something wonderful if you had been anyone else’s.”

           His inhale is sharp, and the heat around us vanishes as he sucks it in to fuel the furnace of his emotions. The next words that leave me are as much a truth as they are a weapon that I use against him.

           “I might have loved you too, you know. I might have been happy with you.”

           His entire body goes taut like a rubber band pulled too tight. I can’t imagine what those words have done to him, I know what they do to me. They relive the ache and chase away the cold bite from the autumn breeze that cuts through my loose shirt. I have known for years that he would never truly leave me, that I will always love him in a strange way. But seeing all of this, and discovering that even when I might have had a chance to save him, there was no chance so long as Elara loved him too.

           “The game is beginning. Line up your pieces if you want to play chess.” I murmur to him before stepping around him and heading for the viewing deck. I pause long enough to glance at him over my shoulder though and say, “but just know, it’s hard to beat an opponent that knows every move you will make.”

(/Cal/)

           Mare finds me between meetings. Her dark hair is swept up in an elaborate hairstyle she picks at nervously, drawing strands out to frame her face. Glancing over my shoulder at the remainder of the council as they pass, I pause before her long enough to say colorlessly, “Is something wrong Lady Titanos?”

           The few sets of eyes that watch us look away with shrugs. Their ears are probably still tuned in, but as far as they are concerned, she is probably looking for Maven and happened to find me first.

           “Farley made contact. The Hexaprin Theater just like before.”

           She’s been gone most of the day with Maven, making appearances and smiling like the dutiful princess she is. I’m not sure how Farley could have possibly made contact with her during all of that, but it’s a relief she didn’t contact Maven first. Meanwhile, I’ve been locked up in Whitefire. My father has hardly let me out of his sight, which I suppose should be understandable. The attempt on my life shook him to his core. Even though I push back, insisting they wouldn’t try again, he refuses to let me leave the castle walls. I don’t know how I will get out to join Mare in this endeavor like she wants with the Sentinels that trail me almost everywhere I go. I guess it now truly understand how Mare felt during her time with us. I don’t blame her for constantly being irritable now. 

Still, my brow rises as the name of the theater. I know it well. When I was younger Julian used to take me to plays and tried to pique my interest in the art form. I had squirmed in my seat the whole time, eager to get out of the dark space and run outside. He gave up once I turned ten, realizing I didn’t have much love for the arts. I knew it saddened him, that he had hoped I shared the same soft spot for them that my mother did. 

My chest tightens at the thought of my uncle. I got him out of Archeon earlier than before, helping him and Sara smuggle away in the dead of night after he got Farley and Kilorn out of the cells. I sent him to Montfort with instructions to speak with Dane Davidson as soon as possible. To try and get him in contact with Guard. There’s no telling if they made it. I can only hope they managed to cross the border.

“It’ll be tough for me to get out.”

“This will only work if you come with me.” Mare insists, her eyes darting past my elbow to the doors of the council chamber. I know who she’s looking for, but she won’t find him.

“He’s seeing to something with his mother.” I instruct, even as I glance around just to be certain. Only a servant passes in a flutter of skirts. She curtsies to me and Mare before hurrying along, obviously loath to be around us any longer than necessary.

“The bloodbase.” Mare’s voice drops to a worried waver as she sets her hand on her pocket. I know she has the book hidden in the pocket of her jacket, the one Julian gifted her with the name of every Ardent he found within Norta’s borders. She sleeps with it under her pillow, her fingers curled around the faded cover as if Maven will creep into her room at night and steal it away.

Shaking my head, I grab her elbow and pull her into an alcove when I hear the sound of more steps approaching. I squeeze into the space between the pillars with her until our bodies almost have to become one to fit. Her hands rest on my chest as she evens out her breathing, recognizing a hiding place when she sees it.

A group of nobles pass us, Osanos and Iral judging by the colors of their clothes. I purse my lips and wait until they leave the hall to look back down at her and whisper. “I took care of it. I printed out all their names and wiped them from the database. They’re safe.”

“Unless Maven is already going after them.” Mare mutters bitterly.

“He hasn’t. I checked last known whereabouts too. Everyone is accounted for.”

“People lie on those stupid records Cal.”

“Not when you’re the first person in years to click on the page.” I let my lips curl into a knowing smile. She can think I’m stupid and hardheaded all she wants, but I do know my way around my own world. “There is a clicker at the bottom of each record to indicate the last time it was opened. I am the first one to look at them in years. You can’t lie to that program.”

           She expels a breath, before look up at me through her lashes. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. We’re meddling too much now.”

           “At this point, does it really matter?” I ask, repeating words I spoke to Julian in the dead of night when he questioned my decision to send him to Ascendent.

           Her lips draw into a tight line that pales her already painted lips. “No.” She agrees before sliding out of the alcove so I can follow her.

           When we step into the light, I watch the shifting sunbeams as they cut across her face. She crosses her arms before looking down the hallway and saying, “We need to get into the afternoon showing. Can you do that?”

           I grimace thinking about my father and the hawk like eyes he has kept on me recently. “It’ll be difficult, but nothing I can’t handle.”

           “Do you want to rehearse with me?” She teases, eyes lighting with laughter when she notices how I chew on my lower lip.

           “I think I’ll tell my father that I’ve decided Evangeline can take a long walk off a short pier and that I much prefer you and I plan to make heirs with you as soon as we enter than theater box.”

           Her eye widen and a blush paints her cheeks. It’s so ferocious the makeup almost can’t hide it. It makes me chuckle before reaching a hand out to cup her jaw and stroke a thumb along that warm puddle of red staining her skin. “Kidding love. Although I think that he’ll be so surprised and horrified that he lets me go just to see if I’m serious.”

           “Mess up my nice skirts Tiberias and I will take your hands for it.” She snorts before pulling away and throwing a smirk over her shoulder. “Get us tickets to the show and be there with me. Also, it might be a good idea to assign Walsh to a... different part of Whitefire.”

           I grimace, remembering the last time I saw her foaming at the mouth while I tried to close her throat to keep the poison from spreading. I sent her for Mare, trusted her with the secret that I met a Red girl in the Stilts and cared. Regardless of what Mare might have thought of me before when that moment passed, I did care. A part of me had been horrified to watch the light leave Walsh’s eyes.

           “I’ll make sure of it.” I whisper.

(/Mare/)

           The theater darkens, and I sink back into my chair, keeping an eye on the Sentinels standing in the doorway. They are here to protect Cal. Allowances had to be made so that he could leave Whitefire, but its an allowance that may cost us our meeting with Farley. There are more of them than before, but they’re simply a hinderance, one that will have to be dealt with at some point very soon.

           Honestly, Maven and Elara trying to kill him has simply become an annoyance now. If they hadn’t, it would be so much easier to sneak around with Cal.

           “They have to go.” I murmur, letting my eyes flint to them as I edge a little closer to the railing of the box and glance over it into the crowd below.

           With a quick nod, Cal leans back in his seat. Before Maven gave the secretary that came with us a mischievous smile and quick order to get rid of our tail. Cal can do no such thing without raising suspicion. It’s already gotten out that I am the one that shouted his name and stopped the bleeding during the Sun Shooting long enough for Sara Skonos to get to him and save him. But Cal spread a faster rumor behind it, his words burning like wildfire through the High Houses, erasing the rumor I know Elara started about us. My shout hadn’t been in fear according to his account, it had sounded like nerves. Maybe I’d lost Maven in the crowd and gotten overwhelmed by the proceedings, and when I had seen Cal I called to him for help. Because of that, I had been close enough to stop the bleeding when the gun went off.

           I had been shocked at the lie he told with an abandon to his father and the court, and how well he crafted it on a moment’s notice. Perhaps he needed to stop spending so much time around Dane. I had noticed that crafty man spending a suspicious amount of time trying to craft Cal into a better Statesman in the recent years.

           “Sentinel Osanos, if you could take the others into the antechamber.” He nods over his shoulder to the small sitting room attached to the box. “I doubt you and the others have any interest in this show and your presence is unfortunately ruining Lady Mareena’s first impressions of it too.”

           “I have my orders, sir.” The Sentinel warns, his eyes darting between the two of us.

           “I can handle anything that comes.” Cal lets his lips quirk into an arrogant smile. I haven’t seen it in a long time, but it’s one of the few soldiers masks in his arsenal. It still makes my stomach flutter. “Besides, Lady Mareena has proven herself quite capable of saving my life if need be.”

           Osanos debates it for a very long second as the murmurs below us quiet and the curtain rustles with the start of the performance. During that second, my heart pounds. I don’t dare look up at the grating above out heads where I know Will Whistle will appear.

           “Of course, Your Highness.” The Sentinel bows his head and then nods to bring the others with him into the room. The door clicks shut, and the lock engages. I grab Cal’s hand and squeeze it in silent praise, before glancing at him side on.

           “Impressive.”

           His smile falls as he looks away from the door and forward again. “We’ll have to be silent. We’re lucky my father didn’t send an Eagrie with us.”

           Unfolding from his position in the chair to relax further, he turns his hand over to lace his fingers with mine. The touch sends waves of reassurance through me. Now we just have to keep him hidden long enough that Will doesn’t recognize him and gets us to Farley. After that, I’m not quite sure what we will do.

           “Farley won’t let you on the Undertrain without a fight.” I murmur, glancing at our joined hands. He sweeps his thumb along my skin in a soothing motion even as his eyes stay forward on the stage as it comes to life.

Gentle touches in the dark, so very like how our relationship started. It almost makes me snicker. I suppose things never really did change between us.

He doesn’t reply to my comment, but I know he’s thinking about it all the same. His palm heats with his frustration, but he doesn’t show it on his face.

I let my eyes wander to the stage where I finally get a look at the play I never watched before. Brightly colored costumes dance across the stage and I tilt my head to look at them, trying to understand the story. “We never went to any of the plays in Ascendent.” I murmur to him.

There were plenty of playhouses, and I know for a fact Julian got us tickets to one he loved. We never got the chance to go, but now I wish we had.

“I’ve never been a fan of theater.” He chuckles and finally turns to look at me. He traded his finer regalia for a more toned down jacket and black shirt today. With the aid of the darkness, I can almost imagine we are in Ascendent, that it’s just another weekend and we decided to do something we’ve never done.

“Then when you annoy me, I am going to drag you to shows when we get back and tie you to a chair so you can’t leave.” I say with a smirk.

The ceiling panel above our heads slides away, and his eyes dart up at the same time as mine. We’re both accustomed to how the Guard functions. The sudden disappearance of the tile doesn’t surprise him like it did Maven.

“Show time.” I whisper to him before dropping his hand and stepping on the seat of my chair. Grasping the edge of the hole I haul myself up into the darkness. When I glance down to help him though, he is already half-way into the crawl space with me. The panel slides into place as soon as Cal vanishes in the shadows. I wait half a second for Will to sound an alarm to notice that I don’t have the right prince with me.

He does no such thing, simply speaks into the darkness the same words he did before. “Be quick and quiet. I’ll take you from here.”

I reach for Cal’s wrist in the dark and grip it tightly with a reassuring squeeze. Will turns and begins to climb through the space, not waiting for us to follow.

“Watch your head,” I instruct as I skirt the edge of the ceiling panel. “It gets low in a few places.”

Cal grunts in understanding but follows at a pace that surprises me. It was a tight squeeze for Maven, so I don’t really know how Cal manages but he does. I’m sure he has Farley’s work with him to thank for that. He crawled through enough sewer tunnels and drains with us while we were at the Notch after all. I’m sure while I was locked away with Maven he was doing the same thing too.

The sounds of the play overhead mask our movements as we drop down ladders and steps and through little trapdoors. Cal only smacks his head once, and I flip around to grab his head to check for blood when he curses soundly in the dark. I grimace when I feel the nasty knot already taking shape on his forehead near his hairline. That will have to be explained away when we get back, but we really truly don’t have time to assess it too much. Will sets grueling pace, and Cal practically shoves me forward when the Whistle almost disappears around a turn.  

It takes only minutes for us to drop into the access tunnels that connect to the Undertrain platform. The damp chill of the space presses through my thin jacket and pants, reminding me of the march we did into Archeon to save Cal and everyone from the Lakelander invasion. Cal drops lightly down behind me though, and instantly the space warms and the memory fades. It’s still too dark to see his features clearly which is only to our advantage. I can’t have Will trying to stop us now.

That cover does not last long though. The platform is haunted by a lone torch, and when Will turns around with a sharp smile, ready to bask in our surprise, his eyes widen as he takes in Cal behind me. I set my hand on Cal’s chest in response, trying to push him back into the shadows while I light my hand with lightning.

Will never gets a chance to act though, the furious screech of the Undertrain as it rushes into the station shakes the walls and announces Farley’s arrival. As it coasts to a stop in front of us, Will spins to the doors and waves his arms while trying to shout over the screeching of the brakes to give a signal to not stop. The train grinds to a halt though, and the doors still open to spill more light onto the platform.

Farley unfolds from the chair like a spring let loose. Her hand flies to the gun at her hip, and I spin to face her with my lightning at the same time. Even with my ears ringing from the sound of the brakes engaging, I can hear the click of her turning the safety off as she draws the gun.

“Farley—” I try to shout, but Cal beats me to speaking, his voice a dangerous warning echoing in the tunnel as he glares Farley down.

“Diana, stop.”

He would have gotten the same reaction if he burned her alive. Farley’s eyes widen at the usage of her birthname, and her fingers wavers on the trigger long enough for me to speak.

“He’s with us.” I urge as I drop my hand, but I don’t dismiss the lightning bouncing between my fingers like webbing. It’s my own warning to her. She knows what I can do, and like her, I don’t miss anymore.

Her laugh is unexpected, and I almost jump at the sharp bite of it. She keeps the gun raised, but her fingers slides from the trigger to rest alongside the barrel. It’s the only sign she is still listening to us. “The little prince was right. He’s whispered his way into your head.”

“The only ones whispering into anyone’s heads is Maven and Elara .” Cal speaks quietly, his eyes scanning the track and the platform for any more Scarlet Guard operatives. There are none to be seen though.

Farley tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowing to diamond colored slits. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t pull the trigger or even move her finger in the direction of it.

I expel a slow sigh of relief and take a step forward. I can feel the burn of electricity in the train, screaming like an upset toddler to be released. Gritting my teeth against the heachache forming because of it, I murmur, “you trusted me to get you out of that cell, trust me in this Farley. Hear us out.”

Her eyes moves past my shoulder to Cal who staggers his stance to move in either direction if he has to avoid her bullet. Her jaw ticks, and the electricity reaches an all time high pitch that stands my hairs on end. I haven’t felt anything like it weeks, not since the shield during Queenstrial exploded around me and tried to contain me.

“Make your decision, the Undertrain won’t wait.” I grimace as I reach up to press my fingers to my temple where the ache is strongest. If she notices my use of the train’s name, she doesn’t say anything.

Cal takes a step forward, stealing ground, only for Farley train that gun on him again and rest her finger on the trigger. 

“Not another step, Your Highness.” She squeezes gently, putting enough pressure on that trigger that even the slightest movment on her part will fire the gun. I side step to put myself in front of Cal should she overestimate her abilities, but Cal simply pushes me to the side again.

With quick movements he unclasps the bracelets around his wrists and holds them up to the light for Farley to see. “Incentive,” he murmurs before tossing them in her direction. She lowers the gun to catch them one handed, almost dropping them due to their weight. I inch forward, my hand extended for them in surprise. I trust Cal to make a tactical decision, but he just threw his own tactical advantage five feet away from him.

The metal bands glint dully in the odd florescent lights of the Undertrain, but Farley glances down at them, unimpressed. With a quirked brow she raises the gun again, although its much more hesitant this time.

“I’m nothing without them.” Cal instructs while he sweeps his arms out from his sides as if to accentuate his point. “Keep them until we finish talking if it pleases you. But we do have to talk.”

“I know.” Farley reasons, her eyes narrowing before darting between the two of us. Even if I didn’t know her as well as I do, I could see the distrust and unease in her eyes. I can’t imagine what Maven has told her, but I know that he hasn’t spoken to her since before the Sun Shooting. It is our only advantage right now, that and the fact that Julian and I were the ones to get her and Kilorn out of the cells below the palace. It doesn’t hurt either that by the time we got down to the cells, the king was more concerned with his son almost dying than the rebels trapped in the cell before him. There had been no time for the interrogation that I know almost cost Farley her arm. She got off easy, too easy, because of us.

Whatever battle she is fighting with herself ends, and she steps to the side to let us pass.

(////)

Narcery is more disheveled than I remember. Perhaps it’s because I’ve already seen most of it repaired and turned into a decent city again years from now. Or maybe it’s because I’ve truly forgotten how downtrodden the world was before we began to right it. Either way, it’s hard not to grimace as we slink through the streets toward the café Farley stomps toward.

The Reds in the doorwards gasp and whisper as Cal passes, and I reach down to grip his hand. None of them are New Blood that I know of, but if someone gets it in their head to finish was Farley started, they won’t make it more than two steps.

He gives me a reassuring squeeze as we pass through the crumbling doorway of the café and into the dimly lit space. In his little booth, Kilorn practically almost leaps to his feet, his eyes wide while his hand flies to the gun on his belt.

“Stand down.” Farley orders smoothly, earning a frown from my friend. He doesn’t immediately listen, but his fingers eventually relax and drop back to his side. I release the tension in my shoulders in response. The air in the room shifts with the change in heat and static that Cal and I bring, but the ice in Kilorn’s gaze might as well be tangible too.

“And why haven’t we shot him?” He asks Farley as she drops into the booth.

With a wave of her hand, she dismisses him and glares in our direction. Cal’s bracelets clink against the dusty table as she sets them out in the open. With a tilt of her head, her expression relaxes and the nasty scar cutting through her lip softens. It never ceases to amaze me how young she really was when this all started. We were all still just children, playing games we never should have.

“They want to speak,” she says, her eyes dropping to our entwined hands. “And I have to admit I am curious what excuse Mare will give to explain blowing our entire operation to pieces.”

“We hardly blew it to pieces, you were almost completely successful.” Cal huffs behind me, and I dig my elbow into his side in response. No use pissing off Farley, or enticing her to pull that gun out again. We both know she will too.

Glaring at Cal for his comment, I address the other two sitting in the booth. “Maven gave you Cal’s name, but he was not the original target.”

“No,” Farley agrees, “he wasn’t.”

“It was Ptolemus Samos.” I turn my eyes back to her, and am rewards with a quirked brow, the only sign she is surprised by my knowledge. Kilorn is not as good at hiding his emotions. His brows dart up towards his hair line as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“You missed that meeting, the one where he gave us the original names! He told us that he never told you them... you can’t possibly have known—”

“I know because I’ve already been through that shooting before. You don’t get Ptolemus that time either.” I step forward and leave Cal behind me, safely in the line of my body. If Farley wants to shoot him at any point in time, she’ll have to shoot me first. “The Sun Shooting was a disaster that time, and it was a disaster this time.”

Kilorn blinks at me, confusion sweeping over his face now. Farley is simply more skeptical, and rightfully so. I didn’t exactly explain anything, just created more questions and puzzling conclusions for her.

“What are you getting at Barrow?” She murmurs as her eyes dart to the broken window behind me. I don’t dare look at who might be there. If its Shade, I will never be able to leave these ruins.

“You have to promise to listen to us, to let us explain as quickly as possible.” Cal speaks for me and the heat that rolls off of him washes over me as he steps closer, soothing tense muscles I bunch in preparation to run. His hand presses into my lower back only a second later. “We don’t have much time.”

Farley’s eyes narrow even further as she takes in how we stand next to each other, and how we remain close enough to protect the other at all times. Even if Maven told her that I was slowly teetering toward Cal, our body language suggests a deeper relationship and understanding of each other than could ever be established in a few weeks. Not to mention Cal knew her name, her real name. There’s no way in hell he could have found that out on his own.

“Who are you?” She asks quietly after a moment, earning a worried glance from Kilorn.

My lips curl into a slow smile as I take in her uncertainty. I can’t remember the last time Farley was on the backfoot. She has always been so headstrong and driven, but she reels back now, like a horse seeing a snake under its hooves. “We’ve all met before, and known each other for years.”

“Bullshit.” She says, pushing to her feet and advancing on me. Cal’s fingers curl around my arm to pull me behind him. I stand my ground though and raise my chin as she stand over me.

“How’s your dad? The Colonel? Has that eye healed up yet?” I ask with a quirked brow. Her breathing fluctuates at the mention of him while she stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes dart to Cal as if to assess how much he reacts to my words. He does nothing but glance down at me and drop my arm, catching on to what I’m doing. Farley won’t be bought over with a cute story like what we told Julian and Sara. She will need cold hard evidence, painful evidence if need be.

“It’s kind of cute that you decided your code name would be lamb, since his is ram.” I tilt my head to the side, earning an strangled inhale as she backpaddles. “Even more so given how infuriating he can be for you.”

Her whole face goes red, and tips of her ears tinge pink immediately. Kilorn opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and closes it again. I don’t blame him, the fury in Farley’s eyes is enough to burn me to the ground.

With her lips pressed into a firm line, she presses her shoulders back to stand to her full height. “Are you Command?” She asks stiffly, her eyes roaming over me and settling on Cal when he barks out a dry laugh.

I elbow him again and shoot a glare, but he laughs at my expression. Turning his amusement on Farley, he says, “no. I’m not even on the list of people they would open a position for.”

“We know those in Command though.” I shoot a single spark into Cal’s arm to shut him up, making him snap back and rub the spot.

“I don’t believe you. Its not possible.” Farley growls setting her hand on her gun.

“I would appreciate you not drawing that gun Diana.” Cal warns his amusement dying as fast as my comfort with the situation.

“Who told you my name.”

“I know it from previous experience.”

“Don’t see how that’s possible.” Kilorn grumbles before rising from the booth as well. His eyes dart between the two of us, and as he starts to form his own opinon the curiosity in his eyes bleeds away into brittle resentment.

“Like I said, we’ve known each other for years.” I push past my locked jaw. This is starting to look next to impossible but if we have any hope of saving ourselves from the disaster to come, then we have to get them to listen to us.

“To be more clear, we will know each other for years someday.” I correct my previous statement quietly, letting the words hang in the too heavy air for a few seconds. Farley quirks a brow, realization crossing her features as she starts to put things together. She’s always been quick as a whip, and that works to our advantage.

Right when I think she’s about to say something though, she laughs. Kilorn blinks at her, taking a hesitant step away. I doubt he’s ever heard the sound, but I know it well. It still cracks on the edges the same way it does in the future. Honestly, it always sounds like she never laughs, even though I know for a fact she does that more than anything someday.

“Barrow, I have seen what you can do. And while it turned everything I knew about the world upside down… you cannot expect me to also factor some form of time travel into this whole mess.” She shakes her head, and dismisses me with a wave. Still laughing to herself she sinks down into the booth, and takes to fiddling with Cal’s bracelets. There is a hint of uncertainty behind her eyes though, and I know exactly who and what she is thinking about.

“There are hundreds—thousands like me Farley. You haven’t met all of them yet, but there are abilities far stranger than mine. My brother’s for instance.”

Her expression pulls tight for a heartbeat before she smoothers the emotion. I pull on that line though, and step forward, pointedly ignoring Kilorn who is still gapping like a fish and trying to come to the same conclusion as Farley. “I know he’s alive, and that he’s here with you. He jumps, appearing in different places in seconds. I make lightning. There will be a New Town girl who becomes our friend that can kill you with a thought and silence Silvers in the same way. There are three other Reds just like me in Montfort. There is a girl who can bathe everyone in a bubble of silence so no one outside of it can hear you. Another woman can remember every single thing she reads or that is said to her. Another older woman can change her face to be whoever you need her to be.” My heart squeezes at the memory of all the Ardents I rescued and then sent to their deaths. I promised them safety, security, and then pulled all of that away from them. All because one man told me I had to do it. “Is it so hard to believe then that there is someone years from now who can send people back in time?”

Those diamond eyes snap to me and look me over before Farley’s lips twist into a half sneer. “Your brother is dead Barrow, he was executed for—”

“Farley, please.” I whisper, coming to stand over her. Even sitting she is almost as tall as me, but I channel every ounce of military prowess she tried to teach me as I glare down at her. “If I walk out of this room, I will find him in less than an hour, and you will feel incredibly stupid when I do.”

Her lips pale as she pushes them together, tighter than ever before. Her eyes dance to Cal beyond me again, who has thankfully kept his mouth shut this whole time and has decided to simply sit on the edge of a table to watch us.

“He came with me.” I soften my tone and slowly sink down into the seat opposite her. Her eyes follow me like a rabbit would a wolf. Her fingers are cold when I take them, even with how warm it is in the room. She doesn’t pull away though, and I wonder if somewhere, her future self recognizes my touch. “I need you to trust us. I know how hard that is with everything that has happened, but Farley you have to.”

“Do we win?” She asks the question so quietly, I almost miss it while I’m speaking. Every muscle in body tenses against the truth that wants to escape though. I glance at Cal, wondering if he heard the same thing as me. He simply looks down at his boots, unable to offer any aid.

Swallowing past the rock in my throat, I look down at the table top. It’s dusty and cracked in some places. But it has no answers either. We have already done so much to destroy the path we were supposed to be on, what was one more change? “Yes,” I whisper and her eyes flash bright and wide.

“But we pay may terrible prices for it.” The last part almost doesn’t make it out. Shade’s death tries to claw that statement to ribbons, Archeon burning, and all the people we lost in the Harbor Bay siege and the final Archeon siege weigh heavy against my chest. The silence stretches to the breaking point around us as those memories consume me. I wish I could take back those words, swallow them and refrain from admitting to what I’m sure she suspects. She must read the memories as they pass across my face because her expression softens a hint.

“Its war Barrow,” the Farley I know so well comes to the surface when she switches her grip to grab my hands instead. “I never expected to win for free.”

She narrows her eyes at Cal then, who simply gives her a tight nod she doesn’t return. “I still don’t like you.” She announces a second later. “And I hope I never do.”

“You give me a hard time for years, I promise you that much.” He teases, some of the light returning to his eyes. I crack a weak smile at their banter, even though I ache at the reminder of the future relationship they share. Farley never does let him off the hook, and every chance she has to remind him of his past, she does. I don’t blame her though, she never lets herself get too congenial with anyone.

“We trust him… just like that?” Kilorn tries to burn a hole between Cal’s eyes with his glare. He doesn’t succeed, especially when Cal smirks at him and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He’s the picture of ease, and I know that drives Kilorn insane.

“Relax Kilorn,” I tease, and then beckon Cal over to me. “He knows that if he steps out of line I won’t hesitate to put him back in his place.”

Farley glances between the two of us before saying, “So the second prince wasn’t lying. You two are…”

“In this together.” Cal finishes for her. His eyes narrow at what Maven might have inferred even as he looks down at me for confirmation.

“We don’t have time to get into details,” I add, making room for him in the booth as I lean forward to start drawing a map of Archeon in the dust on the table. “Maven and his mother know what we know. Which means they have been pulling the strings and trying to sabotage any advantage we have. They will not hesitate to wipe the Scarlet Guard off the map this time around.”

“I don’t understand.” Kilorn grumbles and crosses his arms tightly across his chest. “I thought we trusted that prince?”

“Maven is the one we have to worry about.” I finish drawing the bridge and narrow my eyes at the crude drawing. “He was always going to betray us.”

“How?” Farley sneers, obviously not happy with me inferring that she made a mistake in judgement. Maven was her recruit after all. “He’s given us names, information.”

“All fed to him by his mother, who is counting on us tomorrow night staging a coup and failing so that she can murder the king and remove you and any true Scarlet Guard opposition.” I murmur and watch as Farley’s fury melts into horrible understanding. My stomach drops but Cal speaks before I can.

“He’s already spoken with you and made the plan.” His voice is cold, even while the space around us starts to burn with the heat he releases. My own lightning wants to be unleashed as well. It takes more effort than I like to reign it in. I was wrong. He did speak with her, about more than just me and Cal. 

“He said Barrow would try to come to me and change my mind, that I had to know she was in collusion with you and planned to stand by your side when the time came. That she would ultimately betray me.” Farley breathes, her eyes widening. “He said that the coup was the only way we would win, remove you two in one swoop.”

“He and Elara were counting you believing him wholly and me not bringing Cal.” I growl, and swipe my hand through the map on the table to erase it. The plan is useless at this point. Maven already took it and molded it to his needs. I should have never spoken to him on the barge, maybe I should have just continued to pretend I was some stupid girl that didn’t know how to play the game. I may have destroyed any hope we had of beating him and Elara now.

“They also aren’t counting on us having any other plan. Or my support.” Cal murmurs before drawing his own map in the dirt. The angle is far different from what I drew. “They don’t know that I know the future or that I am with you all. They think Mare is the only one.” His finger moves through the dust and Kilorn finally edges closer to see what he draws.

“So we play into their hands.” He murmurs as he glances at me for my support.

“What?” I wheeze as I watch him draw the same offensive we instigated last time. “Cal, if we do that—”

“Then it all goes the way it did before, with the added benefit that when you get captured this time, we can stop Elara. We know what’s coming and we can plan for it.” Cal finishes drawing his map before drawing a second more detailed map of the Whitefire next to it. “This time, we won’t be alone in that room.”

I struggle to keep up with his thought process, trying to determine exactly how he plans to make this work. The only way Farley and the other Scarlet Guard members will make it into that room is in shackles like me. Elara will slaughter us all like pigs then. 

“The tunnels run under Whitefire right?” He asks Farley who hesitates for a second before nodding tersely. He etches a few makeshifts ones into the picture and then sits back to say, “when I take Mare captive for treason, you and a small unit will move through the tunnels and get to the throne room. From there, you wait for a signal Mare and I will give. When that happens, we take Elara and Maven.”

“Bold.” Farley murmurs as she glances over the plan. “And suicidal. We’ll never make it in.”

“You will if I don’t station anyone at a specific entrance. Name it, and I will keep the regiments away from it.” Cal waves his hand over the picture and glances forlornly in my direction. “If it fails, we still go to the Bowl of Bones, but this time we’ll know what to expect.”

My heart pounds in my chest as the memory of the too thin sand shifting beneath my feet almost overtakes me. Even though it is years behind me and days ahead of me, the heat of Cal’s fire trying to catch on the sand still burns my cheeks and my stomach twists at the echoing sound of the bar punching through Arven’s chest.

“In the meantime, you need to evacuate Tuck.” I whisper forcing the bile down as I look up at Farley. She blanches at the command, but I narrow my eyes to silence her. “Elara has seen in my mind. She knows about Tuck, she knows about a number of other Scarlet Guard strongholds like Narcery too. Did you not find it strange that Maven was not afraid to travel to a supposed heavily radiated place?”

She opens her mouth to argue with me, only to shut it like a trap and narrow her eyes. The thought never occurred to her, and I understand why. He probably got on the Undertrain and immediately started spilling honey and poison in her ear until she couldn’t even hear herself think. I can’t blame her for anything, he did the same to me, and I lapped at it like a starving child.

“Where will we go?” Kilorn whispers anxiously, his eyes darting to the street outside, as if a regiment might come marching down it right now. I don’t blame him. My friend is brave, always has been and always will be, but a Silver regiment is no laughing matter to him yet.

Cal stiffens next to me and says, “Irabella is the only safe haven. Mare was never there, but I was.”

“Why—”

“I doesn’t matter.” I interrupt Kilorn, and lean forward to speak again. “You just have to trust us. Tell the Colonel you have reason to believe Tuck and a number of other bases have been compromised. That an informate you have high up in the palace you trust explicitly told you that. The Notch is not safe either.”

Farley’s eyes widen, and it is then I realize that the mention of that safe haven is what finally secures her trust. The Notch was her hiding hole. Not one her father came up with. Command might not have even known about it. If what Cal and I said was true, and we were her allies in the future, she may have taken us there at some point. I wish I would have been smart enough to start with the mention of it. We could have saved time.

“And you need to start finding the others like me.” I whisper, as I pull the book out of my jacket pocket and set it on the table. The cover gleams against the dusty surface of the table, and I almost can’t pull my fingers off of it. The fates of so many reside inside of it. Cameron’s furious expression flashes through my mind as I ordered her taken onto the Blackrun. I will not force her into anything this time though. I only hope I don’t have to rescue her from a prison though.

I slide the book to Farley and trail my fingers off the cover as I whisper, “Maven and Elara might already be on the hunt for the Ardents in here, but I circled the names of the people that we rescued together. He will target them first if he is going after them, so you have to beat him to it.”

She picks up the book gingerly before looking between us and saying, “you mentioned the Bowl of Bones.”

Cal smiles wearily but leans back with the poise of a general to say, “we won’t have to worry about it. We’re going to avoid that point all together.”

Farley’s fears are not soothed by Cal’s confidence, and I can almost see the spikes she wants to drive through his eyes. At least she nods though, agreeing with him for the time being. I can’t even begin to express the relief that courses through me as she puts the book in her own pocket and nods once more.

“Then we will go with your signal.”

[queenxxxsupreme]

Heartbreak and Heroics

A/N: This is the product of a conversation or two that I’ve had with @thatfluffybabyduck and let me just tell you. I love it. Thank you so much babe for all the amazing conversations we have!! Just a little reminder that if you want to be on any of my taglists, the link is here. Here is my masterlist if you want anymore dad!witchers content. And requests are open!

Warnings: none that I know of, there’s heartbreak, angsty teenage shit, protective!dad!Geralt, protective!uncle!witchers and feral!uncle!bard.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Nothing breaks the White Wolf’s heart more than witnessing his daughter go through her first heartbreak.

***

The door to the house slammed shut. 

You lifted your head, expecting to scold Lambert or Geralt for slamming the door. Instead, you found your daughter unlacing her boots. 

“Lana, don’t slam that door. I get on your father and uncle all the time about it.” You looked back down to the book in your hands. 

“Boys are stupid.” She muttered, ripping off her boot and throwing it towards the door. 

“What’s with the bad attitude, kid?” Lambert asked. He sat at the table with Eskel, Geralt, and Jaskier, quietly carrying a conversation.

“Because boys are stupid and I hate them!” Lana raised her voice, though the anger quickly fizzled into sadness. 

You could see the tears in her eyes and hear her voice catch in her throat. 

She stomped all the way to her room, closing the door roughly behind herself.

“What was that about?” Eskel asked, brows drawn together in concern.

You looked to your husband to gauge his reaction. Geralt was looking down the hall, his broad shoulders rigid with worry. 

“I’ll go check on her.” You quietly told the witchers and bard. 

Your book was left on the counter and you padded across the room and down the hall. You stopped just outside of Lana’s room to knock softly on the door. 

“Love? It’s me.”

“Go away!” 

Your chest tightened hearing her distressed voice. 

“Is there anything I can do for you, Lana, love?”

“Leave me alone!”

A hand on your arm made you jump. You hadn’t heard Geralt get up from the table and follow you down the hall.

“What do you think has happened?” He quietly asked you, fearing that the thoughts that clouded his mind were too dark to be true. 

“I’m not sure.” You shook your head, taking his hand from your arm to hold him. You turned your head back to Lana’s door. “She sounds really upset.”

“She’s crying.” He frowned. He let out a breath through his nose and knocked on the door. “Little dove? We’re all worried about you.”

There was silence.

Geralt stepped towards you, his arms wrapping around you to give you a hug you needed. You tucked your face into his chest. 

“I’ll get her to talk.” He quietly promised you, kissing the top of your head. You squeezed him then retreated to the main room. 

Geralt watched you go, gold eyes following your every move. Once you were seated at the table where he had previously been, he looked back to Lana’s door. He knocked twice more. 

“Please, little dove. Open the door.”

“No, daddy.” Her voice was muffled as if she was stuffing her face into pillows. “Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere, not until you tell me what is wrong.” He moved to lean his head against the door, closing his eyes as he sent a prayer to the gods that everything would be okay. “Come on, sweet girl. Open up, please. I’m worried about you.”

There were a few moments of silence and then there was movement. The door opened and Geralt looked down at his daughter. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and flushed red to match her watery eyes. 

The witcher had never seen his little girl look so sad and the sight broke his heart.

“Can I come in?” He asked her, his gravelly voice soft and gentle. 

She nodded and went back to her bed, curling up into a ball on the mattress. 

Geralt pushed the door shut behind himself then went to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Little dove, what happened?” He reached out to place his hand upon her shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk.” She whispered, shaking her head. 

“Do you want me to hold you?” Geralt offered. 

A heartbeat passed and then she was crawling into his lap. His arms engulfed her, promising to always protect her from the cruelty from the outside world. She tucked her head beneath his chin, fingers gripping his tunic. He could feel her heart racing so fast and hear every breath that caught in her throat. Her tears were warm and damp as they stained his shirt. 

Geralt rested his chin upon her head, eyes closing as he tightened his grip on his daughter. 

Minutes passed before her heart calmed down. Once it was back to a steady pace, Geralt decided to try to see what it was that had upset her so greatly.

“What happened, little dove? What’s got you crying so much?”

“I-I saw Halden kissing another girl.” Her voice was muffled but it was easy to understand her. 

It took a few moments for Geralt to remember who Halden was. He was a boy that Lana was courting. The two had only been talking for a few weeks but Geralt knew how much she adored him. 

“I’m so sorry, little dove.” Geralt gently brushed his hand over her hair. 

“I just- I really liked him, daddy. He was always so sweet and so nice. But I guess I-I just am not good enough for him.”

“Don’t ever say that Lana.” Geralt pulled away from her, taking her head away from his chest. He held two fingers underneath her chin, making the young girl look up at him. “You are brilliant and you’re beautiful. You are good enough. It’s him that isn’t. He isn’t worth your tears, little dove.”

“But I-I liked- Daddy, I really liked him.” A sob broke up her words. She reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes. 

“I know you did, my love.” Geralt’s heart broke at the sight of Lana’s eyes red and filled with tears, her cheeks flushed and her bottom lip quivering. “But believe me when I tell you that you deserve better. You deserve more than anything he has to offer.”

Lana nodded her head, eyes flickering down to the medallion hanging on his chest. The silver color was a stark contrast to his white top. Geralt almost smiled a little. You always looked down at his medallion when you were thinking too.

“Daddy?” Her brows drew together softly. She looked up at him through wet lashes. “Why didn’t he want me?”

Geralt had felt pain before. He’d survived the life and body altering trials. He had nearly died on more than one occasion. He had lost those close to him. But seeing his little girl look up at him with saddened eyes and such a heartbroken look, he swore he’d never felt anything similar to the pain he felt then and there.

He was helpless. There was nothing he could do to take her pain away, to ease her suffering, to hide her from the cruel boy who betrayed her trust.

“Because he didn’t see how lucky he was to have you.” Geralt pulled her back into his arms, holding her a little tighter than what was probably necessary. If only he could keep her there forever in the safety of his arms. “He wouldn’t know something good if it hit him in his damned face.”

A few minutes passed as Geralt held Lana, listening to her sniffles and little cries as he rubbed her back and kissed her head. 

Then, there was a knock on the door. Geralt lifted his head, ready to fight whoever would dare to interrupt the moment between him and his daughter. 

The door opened and Jaskier poked his head inside. Lana lifted her head from Geralt’s chest and wiped her tears. 

“Hello, love.” He smiled at her, then his eyes flickered back to Geralt. “Y/N sent me in. Just wanted me to make sure everything was okay.”

“Hi, Uncle Jaskier.” Lana sniffled, shifting around in Geralt’s lap a little bit. 

“Why are you crying, dear heart?” Jaskier stepped into the room, placing his lute against the side of the bed. 

“Why don’t you talk to him while I go…. go see your mother?” Geralt suggested, rubbing Lana’s side. 

She nodded and climbed off of his lap, wrapping her arms around herself as she sat on the bed on her knees. 

Geralt and Jaskier shared a small look before Geralt left the room, closing the door behind himself. 

In the hallway right outside of Lana’s room were Eskel and Lambert. Both leaned against either side of the hall. Eskel had his arms crossed and Lambert’s hands were stuffed into his pockets. You stood at the end of the hallway, your arms crossed but one hand to your lips. 

When you saw your husband, you moved towards him. 

He was stiff and tense, his jaw locked and his eyes darkened as his eyes passed over you.

“Geralt-,” You tried to stop him but he moved past you, heading straight for the front door. “Geralt!”

“Not now, Y/N.”

“No, you aren’t leaving this house until you’ve calmed down.” You put your hand on his arm, stopping him. 

He turned to face you, running his hand over his face. 

“That bastard- He kissed another girl.”

“I know. Eskel told me everything.” You spoke quietly. 

The quiet witcher had told you what Lana was upset about the second she told Geralt. His enhanced hearing allowed him to hear through the walls of your home. 

“I am angry too, but you cannot act out on your anger, Geralt.” You brought your hand up to his chest. “If you do, you will lose me and Lana. Harming a child for being stupid will only hurt us in the long run.”

“She’s in there crying over him, Y/N!” Geralt raised his voice just slightly. 

“I know, and I want nothing more than to make him regret ever thinking about hurting her. But imagine how Lana would feel knowing her father was hanged because of her heartbreak.” You searched his eyes. 

You knew very well that if any harm came to the boy, your husband would be killed for it. The town hated him as it was. They just wanted an excuse to get rid of him and they’d gladly use Halden to get what they wanted. 

“Go sit in the kitchen. Calm down. Collect yourself.” You brushed your fingers across his jaw. “I want to go see her.”

Geralt grunted but did as you told, moving towards the kitchen. 

As you passed Lambert and Eskel, you stopped. 

“Don’t let him leave this house. If he tries, do whatever is needed to make him stop.” You met Eskel’s gaze. He nodded and continued down the hall. 

For once, Lambert was silent. He followed his brother, shaking his head. He wanted to beat up the little twerp who messed with his niece, but he didn’t want Geralt to get into trouble for any of it. He’d find another way to get his revenge. 

You knocked lightly on the door and then opened it. 

Jaskier sat on Lana’s bed with his arms around her. She was next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He had been humming quietly to her, wanting to get her mind off of her troubles. 

When Lana’s eyes found you, her face crinkled up as a new wave of tears came forth in her eyes. She climbed out of the bed and threw herself into your arms. Your arms wrapped around her torso, holding her close and rubbing her back. 

“My sweet girl.” You murmured, kissing the top of her head. 

She buried her nose in your hair, squeezing you tightly. 

“I don’t know what to do, mom.” She cried, shaking her head as best as she could. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“I will tell you what to do, love.” You released her from your grasp but still held her hand, guiding her over to her bed. She sat between you and Jaskier. While you held her hand, Jaskier put his arm around her shoulders. “I know you really liked Halden, Lana. But he is the worst kind of boy you could possibly come across. He’s charming and nice on the surface, but beneath those pretty eyes and that charming smile, he’s ugly. Kissing another when you two are courting is completely unacceptable. That kind of boy isn’t the kind you waste your precious tears on, my sweet girl.” 

You wiped her cheeks. 

“You are far too brilliant and beautiful and kind hearted to ever cry over someone like that, Lana.” Jaskier assured her. She smiled just a little. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this, dear heart, but unfortunately, this is something that everyone goes through.”

“Did you?” Lana crinkled her brows together. Jaskier nodded his head. Then your daughter turned her head to look at you. 

“Oh, it happened to me a handful of times.” You sighed. “It hurt each and every time, but I reminded myself that I would find the one when the time was right. And that’s when your father came into the picture. The rest is history.”

Lana looked down at her hands. 

“I just…. I don’t understand. He said he liked me. He said I was…. He said I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.”

“While he is an absolute ass, I am very positive he was telling the truth when he said you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.” Jaskier told her. She smiled shyly.

“Why don’t we go get some tea?” You suggested, squeezing her hand. 

She nodded and followed you out of the room. 

In the kitchen, Lana sat down at the table with Jaskier on one side of her. Geralt was no longer at the table but instead stood near the fireplace, eyes focused downwards on to the flames. 

As you passed him to retrieve the tea kettle, you place your hand on the small of his back. He turned his head to look at you.

“All will be okay, love.” You assured him quietly, knowing that look on his face. “She isn’t physically hurt or in danger.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.” You held the hot kettle in one hand and used your other to rub your husband’s arm. “But that just means there is nothing you can do to help her. This is something she has to do on her own.”

He grunted, unhappy with your words and how true they were. 

You went back to the table to begin making tea. 

Geralt’s eats picked up on something. It was a heartbeat and footsteps approaching the front door of his home. He knew that heartbeat. He’d heard it once or twice. It was Halden. 

Lambert noticed the way Geralt tensed up and started to move towards the door. He rubbed his hands together and stood to his feet. 

“Let the fun begin.”

You looked up upon hearing the young witcher. You saw Geralt moving towards the door, his hands in fists by his sides. 

“Jaskier, could you please?” You gestured to the kettle. He nodded and took your place while you went to your husband. 

Just as you were reaching him, he opened the front door. 

“Good evening, sir.” Hayden spoke. He stood about a foot shorter than Geralt and lankier than anyone Geralt had ever seen. His shaggy blonde hair was swept out of his eyes. 

You slipped between Geralt’s large frame and the door, knowing it was best to be in front of Geralt rather than behind him. 

“Geralt.” You warned him, looking up at your witcher. His eyes were dark and set on the young boy behind you. “Eskel-,”

“I’m fine.” Geralt spoke through his teeth. He didn’t mean to direct his anger towards you. 

You caught sight of Eskel lingering just behind the White Wolf. 

You turned your attention back to Halden. 

“Is Lana home? We had plans to meet up in town but she never showed.”

Geralt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This prick- after kissing another girl -was wanting to hang out with his daughter? 

What bothered the witcher the most was this boy’s boldness. He was looking Geralt in the eyes as if he did nothing wrong. 

Geralt’s jaw is clenched together so tightly he thinks he might break his teeth. But his teeth are of little concern at the moment. 

“Hello, Halden.” You greeted him. You knew if your husband spoke, the very fragile environment would shatter and he might attack. “I’m afraid Lana’s feeling a little under the weather right now. She was upset about something. Do you know what it is that could’ve upset her?”

Halden crinkled his brows together and glanced down, thinking hard about the answer to that. 

“No, ma’am. Not that I know of.”

You let out a soft sigh through your nose, crossing your arms. You heard what sounded like a growl come from your husband’s chest. 

In the house, Jaskier had been listening to the whole thing from the kitchen. With the door being open, it was hard not to hear. 

“Is this little bastard really playing stupid?” The bard looked from Lambert to Eskel and then to his niece. She was still at the table, her head hung and lip quivering as she tried to hold back the tears. 

Jaskier started to move towards the door, ready to start the very fight you were preventing. Eskel stopped Jaskier, stepping in front of him. 

“Eskel, come on! Just let me-,”

“No, Jaskier. This is for Geralt and Y/N to handle.”

You looked over your shoulder, peering into the house to see what the commotion was. 

“Shut the door, Geralt.” You quietly directed him. 

He did as you told, stepping completely out of the house. 

“What did you do to my daughter?” The witcher asked, his low and deep voice threatening. His lip curled into a snarl as he glared down at the child before him. 

He knew what had happened but he wanted Halden to come clean, to admit to what he did wrong. 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir-,”

“Like hell you do!” Geralt stepped forward but you were there to stop him. 

The door behind Geralt opened and your daughter slipped past him. You could see the fire in her gaze, the anger raging within her. 

You grabbed her arm before she could get too close to Halden. 

“You were kissing Maria!” Lana shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I saw you by the lake with her! You had your hands on her, Halden!”

“When?”

“Earlier today!” Lana’s voice cracked and she quit trying to pull away from you. You refused to let her go, fearing she’d be unpredictable like her father when she was angry. “I-I saw you, Halden! I saw you.”

The boy shrugged his shoulders, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“I mean, it’s not like we were that serious anyways.”

Lana brought her hand up to cover her mouth, shaking her head. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve being such an ass in front of us.” You snapped, anger seeping into your veins. 

“I didn’t think she’d be serious about it!”

“You told me-You told me that I was important to you!” Lana cried. 

“And who was the foolish one for thinking that?” Halden tilted his head to the side a little. “I mean, look at you. You aren’t even that pretty.”

You stepped forward but Geralt had his hand on your arm, keeping you from getting close to the child. 

“Y/N, take Lana inside.” Geralt said, urging you to move back to him. 

With your jaw locked, you turned your head to look at your daughter. Her hand was over her mouth as she was crying once again. 

You went to her side, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her into the house. 

Once the door closed, Geralt grabbed Halden’s shoulder and practically threw him into the front door. 

Halden opened his mouth to say something but Geralt stepped closer to him, putting his hulking body within inches of the teenager’s. The witcher leaned down, hands clenched in fists at his sides to keep from harming the boy. 

“You are so very lucky, boy.” He spoke through his teeth, darkened yellow eyes glaring down at him. “If it weren’t for Lana and Y/N, you’d be a rotting corpse in the river right now.”

Halden swallowed hard, fear finding its home in his bones. 

“If I so much as catch your scent anywhere near her or if I learn that you’ve even laid your eyes upon my daughter, I will show you just why they call my kind beasts.” Geralt wanted nothing more than to make this boy’s life hell, but he wasn’t willing to risk the livelihood of his wife and daughter. “Get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

Halden was hastily moving around Geralt and sprinting down the street. 

The witcher ran a hand over his face, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself. When he was sure he had his anger in control, he moved into the house. 

“Could always let me and Jaskier go give him a little scare.” Lambert muttered from where he stood near the door. 

Geralt shook his head, eyes flickering around the room until he found you. You sat at the table with Lana. She was between you and Jaskier. She leaned against your shoulder, her eyes closed and her hair mostly in her face. Jaskier held her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles as he hummed to her. 

Your eyes found your husband. You crinkled your brows together just slightly, questioning him if everything was okay. He nodded and moved to your side. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and rub your shoulder. Then he moved to his daughter next. He kissed the top of her head. 

“I love you, little dove.” He murmured against her head. 

“Love you too, daddy.”

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[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the   devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: fluff, angst

Words: 2336

A/N: I would say that I was sorry for all the angst but I’m really not! I hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Eleven

The atmosphere in The Great Hall on the day of the Yule Ball thoroughly changed throughout the day, it was Christmas Eve anyway but most of the students weren’t really concerned with it. They were too excited and apprehensive about the evening to come. At breakfast that morning, most of the girls were giddy with excitement and some of the boys were feeling apprehensive. By the time that lunchtime rolled around, the girls were growing impatient and were prone to snapping while the boys had accepted their fate.

At lunch, Sirius greeted you with a kiss on your cheek which made you flush and he sent you a wink that turned your legs to jelly, “looking good, Y/L/N,” he smirked; he looked especially good this afternoon.

You recovered quickly and arched an eyebrow at him, “too good for you,” you teased and received a chuckle as a reply as he sat next to James. They were properly talking to each other again after the whole Snape fiasco.

You grinned to yourself as you glanced back at Lily to see that she had a mingled expression of shock and amusement on her face, “okay, what was that all about?” she lowered her voice and leaned forward with interest.

You rolled your eyes as you smiled at her, “he was upset when he and James were fighting so I um might have kissed him,” you shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing when in reality it was a huge deal.

Instead of a shocked look, Lily shot you a warm smile that she usually reserved for James, “good for you sweetie. I know that your situation isn’t ideal but don’t let him get away, not without a fight.”

At about half past three Lily checked her watch and gave you a little nod with a sparkle in her emerald eyes and a giddy sort of excitement filled your gut. It was time to get ready for the Ball. Lily kissed James on the lips, “we’d better get ready for the Ball,” she beamed as the both of you stood up.

“And you need three hours to get ready?” Sirius frowned while you and Lily rolled your eyes at each other, he really was hopeless.

“Well, looking good takes time but I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that,” you smirked and Remus choked on a surprised laugh while James gave you a high five and Sirius pulled a tongue at you.

Getting ready with the girls was so much fun, Marlene and Dorcas had managed to sneak in a bottle of pink champagne and the lot of you were drinking out of the bottle, getting a little tipsy. You helped Lily style her soft red hair into an intricate and fiddly up do which made her look like a queen, James was a very lucky guy. In turn she helped you get into your dress and she laced up the back for you.

As you looked at your group of friends you suddenly grew sad and the nerves were finally starting to set in. This was going to be your last Christmas at Hogwarts and you were determined to make it a night to remember. When you all walked into the common room, a few Gryffindor boys that none of you knew all wolf whistled at you in good nature. You all giggled and blew them kisses as you climbed up through the portrait hole and made your way to The Entrance Hall where you’d be meeting your dates.

“What if Sirius never forgives me? What if we can never get past what’s going to happen tonight?” you asked Lily in a shaky voice as you fought the urge to throw up.

Lily laced her warm fingers through yours and gave your hand a comforting squeeze, “he will, I promise Y/N. He cares about you too much to never forgive you, so if I was you I really wouldn’t worry about it.”

You nodded at your best friend’s words as you took a deep breath, hoping that she was right. As you descended the stone steps you smiled as James wistfully gazed at Lily like she was the only girl in the universe. You longed to have a relationship just like theirs one day. Sirius looked so achingly handsome that it hurt with the knowledge that you wouldn’t be attending the Ball together. At his side there was an equally beautiful girl and you tried not to feel bitter resentment towards her.

Remus gave you a small wave while Sirius rushed forward, his lips quirked up into a smile and he gave you a tight hug. You breathed in his scent, he smelled like cinnamon and sandalwood, he ignored the huffs of his date. His cheeks were flaming red as he looked you over and you squirmed beneath his gaze, “you look amazing Y/N!” and for once there wasn’t a teasing tone to his voice, he sounded completely sincere.

You flushed right down to your toes as butterflies exploded into your stomach, fluttering wildly at his words, “thank you! So do you,” you giggled nervously, dreading the moment that was due to come.

“So, where is your date? If he’s late, I’ll kick his arse for you.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary brother,” chewing your lip at the soft voice, you turned your head to look at Regulus.

He looked just as handsome as his brother. He was beaming at you, his grey eyes twinkling in the candlelight as he dragged a hand through his short wavy hair, a flush on his cheeks. Regulus looked you up and down, and it wasn’t in a pervy way but on the other hand, it didn’t make you weak in the knees like it should have, “wow,” Regulus breathed, “you look stunning,” you flushed at his pretty words, not daring to look at Sirius.

“Thank you Reg, you look great too!”

Regulus took your hand and rubbed his thumb against your wrist, smiling when he felt your pulse point jump beneath his fingers, “should we head in? I can’t wait to dance with you,” he smiled cutely and your heart went out to him. He really deserved a girl who was crazy about him.

“Please,” you grinned nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The air surrounding the pair of you had grown heavy and awkward, though you wouldn’t let it ruin your night. You were still hopeful that you could have a good night.

As you strolled towards The Great Hall you chanced a look back, Sirius was glaring at you, you had never seen him that angry before and it was all directed towards you. His face was like thunder but there was hurt in his stormy grey eyes. Your other friends looked shocked while Lily looked sympathetic. Hot tears stung at your eyes and you willed them to go away and your chest felt tight. You didn’t want to make Regulus feel bad, he was too sweet.

A gasp of awe escaped you as you walked into the gold and silver decorated hall, marvelling at the 12 Christmas trees. It was snowing and fluttering multi coloured fairies flew overhead. It was strange but seeing the frost settle around the windows made you feel calm. The room looked like something straight from a beautiful winter’s dream.

“Beautiful right?” Regulus grinned, squeezing your hand gently and you smiled at him. It was the first time that night that you’d sent a true smile his way.

“It’s gorgeous! Come and dance with me Reg!” you giggled as you pulled him to the dance floor, smiling slightly when you heard him let out a breathless and surprised chuckle.

Regulus was a wonderful dancer and there was the prettiest gleam in his eyes as he smiled at you. There should have been a spark – you were beating yourself up because there wasn’t a spark – after all Regulus was handsome, sweet, considerate, and hardworking, the list goes on but you felt nothing. You vaguely wondered what the matter with you was.

Halfway through your dance, Regulus took a shaky breath, “Y/N,” you glanced up, giggling as he twirled you; “can we try and make this work between us? You mean more to me than just my older brother’s friend. I want to mean more you to you too,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it as he waited patiently for your response to his confession.

It was not a decision to be taken lightly, there was certainly no spark that you felt but maybe that was okay. Maybe Regulus would be the safe choice and maybe he wouldn’t break your heart. Whatever happened you certainly didn’t imagine that your last year at Hogwarts would be like this. You could never have a quiet year.

“Reg,” you started and there must have been uncertainty in your voice because his face fell, “we can try,” as you agreed Regulus perked up with a sweet smile and he kissed your cheek.

“Thank you.”

After a couple more dances, Lily pulled you away and you ended up getting drinks with her. James poured some fire whiskey – which he’d smuggled into the Ball in a flask – into your pumpkin juice and winked at you. Remus’ cheeks were rosy and his hazel eyes twinkled, it was obvious that he’d had more than a little to drink. Sirius ignored you blatantly and your heart constricted painfully, you would rather him be angry with you because maybe then he’d be talking to you.

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Sirius heaved a great sigh as he took a swig of fire whiskey from the flask that James had brought with him. Tonight had been a bust. The Great Hall looked stunning but it was torture watching the girl he was falling for in his brother’s arms. He’d resorted to ignoring them both which killed him inside. Everyone was pissing him off tonight including the girl he’d brought with him, Regulus and Y/N.

James patted Sirius’ arm sympathetically, he’d at least had a good night with Lily and Sirius was jealous that James had found someone who truly loved him, “you alright mate? It must have been a difficult night for you.”

Sirius shrugged, “I just feel betrayed, y’know? Like I was just part of some scheme, I thought that Y/N actually liked me,” he laughed it off like he didn’t care, but he did, “I’m gonna get some air,” he didn’t wait for a reply before taking off outside into the cold night.

He sat down on a snowy stone bench that had been nestled among the winter flowers that had been planted especially for tonight. It was strangely peaceful out here and for the first time that night he felt at ease. Sirius wasn’t sure just how long he was out there before he heard the snow crunch behind him but he didn’t bother to turn around.

“I haven’t seen you all night, where have you been?” Y/N giggled nervously and Sirius closed his eyes, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in the back of his throat and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Shouldn’t you be with my brother right now?” he gave a bark of humourless laughter and he heard Y/N sigh.

“Sirius,” she started but he didn’t want to hear any excuses, he just wanted to know one thing from her.

“Why did you kiss me that day Y/N?” he mumbled, blinking the tears out of his eyes, “were you trying to play with my feelings for you? Or were you just using me to get to Regulus this whole time, is that the only reason you’re friends with me?”

“Of course I wasn’t using you; it’s not what you think between me and Regulus! It was just a kiss Sirius; I thought you of all people would understand that! There was no ulterior motive behind it, you were gutted about what happened with James and I just thought that it might make you feel better.”

Hurt swirled in Sirius’ gut at Y/N’s words. It was just a stupid kiss was it? He shouldn’t have expected anything more than that. He’d been a complete fool. Finally, he turned around to look at her, she was beautiful, standing in the deep snow wearing that gold dress that looked like it was made for her. The snow was swirling around her and a couple of snowflakes settled on her eyelashes and in her hair. She had never looked more beautiful.

Her outline grew blurry as the hot tears returned to his eyes but right now he didn’t much care if she saw his tears. It would be good for her to see just how much she’d hurt him, “y’know, its funny. Regulus was always the perfect one, the prodigal son. He got everything that he’d ever wanted but it didn’t care because I had one thing he didn’t have, I had you. And, now he has you too so it doesn’t even matter,” Sirius stood up.

“Pads,” Y/N made to touch his arm as she gave him a pained look.

Sirius jerked his arm out of her reach, he didn’t want to hear it, and it hurt too much. He’d never felt so vulnerable, not even when his mum had kicked him out, “don’t!” his voice broke and he swallowed a whimper, “please,” when Y/N nodded he turned to stalk back into the castle, looking back for a second, “merry Christmas Y/N,” he whispered as a tear slid down his cheek.

When he got back to the castle, his pretty date smiled at him, she looked glad that he was back and right now, he needed any bit of affection he could get, no matter how small. Sirius smiled back at her as he made his way over, he was angry, heartbroken and hurt. He wanted to hurt Y/N just as much as she had hurt him. He wouldn’t even feel sorry about it.

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[formerprincess]

A tale written with fangs and claws || Chapter 61

Chapters: 61/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt Characters: Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Nolan (Teen Wolf), Brett Talbot, Lori Talbot Additional Tags: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Dunbar Pack, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Werewolf Theo Raeken, Alpha Theo Raeken, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Mates, Liam and Theo are mates, Top Theo Raeken, Bottom Theo Raeken, Top Liam, Bottom Liam Dunbar, Bisexual Theo Raeken, Original Character(s) Series: Part 1 of Morning Dew Pack

Maddie and Asher follow Liam's invitation. He also learns new things about were cheetahs and Theo gets a new job from an unlikely source.

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"Anyways, he invited the whole core pack to a BBQ. It's nice meeting with Luka. I learn so much about general history and other things. That's alright with you?" Liam switched his cellphone from the right hand to his left so he could reach for a shampoo bottle with his right. He was currently doing some shopping before his shift at Ellie’s started and also used the time to have a phone conversation with Byron. Byron chuckled softly. "Why shouldn't it be?" "Dunno. Maybe because you think I'm replacing you? Rather listen to him than you?" Byron sighed softly. "Liam, I am well aware of my own age. It is very noble of you to care about my feelings in that matter but I have to tell you not to worry. I know you listen to me but having another werewolf, an Alpha even, closer to your own age group, gives you undoubtedly the advantaged to see things from a different perspective. You young people see the world differently than we do, that is perfectly fine. You can never know too much and different viewpoints allow you a better understanding of things. I am not worried you will forgo my advice or replace me with Luka. In fact, I am excited you get to make this experience with other Alphas and leaders of supernatural groups." Liam exhaled and smiled. "Good. I am grateful for all of you taking your time to teach me things, explain things to me. Especially at the moment, I feel I'm learning so many new things about our world. Things I never ever thought of before." "Your willingness to learn is one of your most admirable traits. When we met, it was one of the first things I noticed", Byron praised him. Liam meanwhile opened the shampoo bottle and sniffed. He grimaced. Way too chemical for his liking. He hastily closed the bottle and put it back on the shelf. "I try my best. The way I see it, knowledge makes me a better Alpha. Which, funnily enough, is an insight I share with Scott." "You're right. Knowledge is always good." Liam found another shampoo he liked and took it to the cash register. Byron meanwhile reminisced. "I think I met Luka's parents once. Unless there is another pack with the same name in North America, which I highly doubt. Insightful and willing to listen. Remarkable people. It appears, their son takes after them." "Wow, maybe one day you two can meet and you can tell him that. I'm not sure when his parents died exactly but he still grieves them and hearing about them will surely make him happy. Maybe you can also meet Savannah and Maddie." He considered this a good idea. Byron hummed approvingly. "I'd love to."

"One second, Byron." Liam found it incredibly impolite to check out and be on the phone so he paused the call and turned his full attention to the cashier once it was his turn to pay. The transaction didn't take long and Liam left the store with his shampoo. Only then he picked up the conversation again. "Sorry, had to pay." Byron hummed again and Liam remembered a question from earlier he had wanted to ask: "You said it's highly unlikely two packs with the same name existing in North America. Why?" "I guess I should have worded it better. There is a chance of another pack having an Alpha named Barrett, it is not an incredibly rare name, but the possibility of the other pack referring to themselves as Barrett Pack is rare. You know, Liam, packs can have all kinds of names. A lot of them take their Alpha's last name. McCall, Hale, Barrett. Others, like ours, derive their names from the world around them or things connected to them. Red Ambers Pack, The Creek Pack, Silver Eyes. What all those names have in common is they are exclusive to those packs, simply because no one wants to be dragged into another pack's business because they share the last name. Imagine another pack, full of brutal and disruptive wolves, being called Dunbar Pack. One day someone shows up at your door and causes trouble. You would be furious. It's common werewolf etiquette to not have an already taken name. Also an etiquette stemming from old times." "Why do I now imagine all Alphas visiting an office where they register their names and pay the registration fee?" Liam snickered. Byron laughed wholeheartedly. "It's a nice image. Most come from hearsay, to be honest. And, in case of a pack having their Alpha's last name as pack name, the name changes with the Alphas. Unless it's another family member taking over, but that goes without saying." Liam pondered. "So our pack would have gone from Fairclay Pack to Dunbar Pack, if it weren't for Morning Dew." Liam opened his car and put the shampoo bottle on the passenger seat before he closed the door and locked his car again. Now he made his way toward's Ellie's store. "Exactly", Byron confirmed. "I like it better that way. Think of the poor registration office. All this paperwork for a name change." Byron laughed again and Liam joined him. "My shift's about to start, Byron. Talk to you later." "Take care, Liam."

He ended the call and pocketed his phone. The store was very central, with many shops around, and Liam used it to run some smaller errands quite often. When he now arrived at his workplace, Ellie was on a ladder. “Didn’t I tell you to wait with restocking until I’m here?” Liam asked lightly and sidestepped a few empty boxes. His boss placed a box on the shelf. “You mean because you’ll heal faster if you fall from the ladder?” “I…yeah. Besides I’m your young employee. Use me.” “I want to take up that task in case you have no use for Liam!” Carlie yelled from somewhere between the shelves. Her friends giggled. “Carlie.” Liam smirked. “What about Theo? He would get jealous of me for having you.” Theo had visited Liam in the shop before and as expected Ellie and her friends had fawned over his charming personality. “I take both of you!” They all laughed and Ellie thankfully climbed down from the ladder to let Liam take over.

He was working away for a while when the door opened and Theo entered the shop. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, the feeling of resignation and frustration pouring through their bond was enough. Liam gave him a pitiful glance. “The job interview didn’t work out.” Theo completely skipped over Liam already knowing his emotional state and just continued. “They wanted a twenty-year-old with thirty years experience and I can’t offer that. Tried telling her I’ve been to hell. She thought that was a joke.” "I'm sorry." Liam meant it and went to console his boyfriend. He hugged him tightly and Theo clung to him. He wanted to work again and Liam always felt a pang of guilt. Theo had hated working at the diner but he had been working and because his Alpha pressed, he was now jobless. "It's just...It's starting to get borderline ridiculous! Seattle is not a small town, how can nobody be in need of a healthy college student willing to get his hands dirty? Bullshit!" Theo ranted and Liam let him. It was only logical Theo needed to air out his frustration.

"Don't mind me barging into your conversation", Ellie appeared next to the couple. "But, Theo, if you really want a job, I can offer you one. Liam said you two wanted to work together after college anyway. Why not start now?" "That would be possible?" Liam asked surprised. She shrugged. "I see why not. There is more than enough work for the two of you. Also, two strong young men are always better than one. Carlie, don't even comment on that one!" "I didn't say anything!" Carlie shrieked and Theo laughed. "It sure sounds like fun." He looked at Liam. "Is this okay for you?" "Yeah, I don't mind." Liam really saw no issue with that. Ellie was right, they wanted to work together someday, might as well as start now. "Then, yeah, I'd love to accept, Ellie. Thank you." Theo was extremely grateful. She was happy. "Amazing. We can later talk about all the details. I'll offer you the same contract as Liam." He understood that. "Any rules for working together as a couple?" "Boy, you visited Liam several times since he started working here. I never had to fish you out of the storage room or the back office. I'll take the chance." "We are professional!" Liam squawked. Ellie shot him a grin. Then she pumped her fist. "Not me being selfish but there will be some deliveries arriving soon. You two strong men can take this, right?" "Absolutely", Liam promised and pulled Theo along to show him everything.

****** Working with Theo was easier than Liam imagined it to be. Sure, he would have never made the suggestion for their own coffee shop had he doubted that but it was even easier than in his imagination. They worked well together and knew how the other would react in certain situations. They also fell in an easy working rhythm without speaking so much. "Is it really okay for you? Me working here?" Theo still asked when they were storing the deliveries later on. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind in the slightest." Liam opened a box and began handing Theo things. The Second Alpha sorted them meticulously. "Just wanted to check, so you don't feel like I'm intruding or whatever." "You're not. We want to have our own store one day. This is a great exercise." Liam gave him a big smile which Theo returned. "Besides, Ellie is a great boss, you'll see. Makes life easier." "Easier?" Theo inquired and grabbed another box from Liam to store it away. Liam grunted. "She knows about us being werewolves. We don't have to find silly excuses if anything comes up. I had to lie so often in Beacon Hills and come up with stories to cover. Now my boss knows what I am, my coach knows, even my most important family members know.  I don't have to lie anymore and that makes things so much easier. My friends all are either supernatural themselves or involved with the supernatural one way or another. I can be honest, and just be me, you know? It feels so much better", Liam confessed. "It truly is easier", Theo admitted. "Ellie is my first boss in known about the supernatural, it's quite a luxury for me." He gave Liam a cheeky grin and Liam laughed. "You don't mind working with me, right?" He then inquired. "If I did, I wouldn't have accepted the job offer. I'm desperate for a job, but not that desperate." Theo sorted the last thing and handed Liam the label maker. "I'm sure there was a compliment somewhere in that sentence", the young Alpha nagged but didn't mean any harm. Theo understood and scoffed playfully. But then he grew serious. "It's actually quite soothing for my wolf. Being around you, knowing where you are." "Knowing where I am? You know where I am, even if you're not here with me." "It's not that. I know where you are, yes. But are you safe? That's how the mating bond manifests for me. By the urge to protect you every time and at all cost." Liam loved Theo with all his heart and he loved the protective streak the older one had developed for him. Yet... "I like that and I appreciate that. However, I am perfectly capable of protecting myself." "I know you are", Theo confessed, "And that scares the crap out of me." "Huh?" Liam frowned in confusion. Theo grumbled. "One day, I fear, I will be too slow. And you jump headfirst into danger, probably sacrificing yourself for us, and I won't be able to protect you and keep you from doing it. One day, even though you're perfectly capable, I'm afraid a bad guy will get lucky and you will die." Theo shuddered and Liam smiled softly. He put his things down and moved closer to his boyfriend. "I protect myself as good as you do. I will never leave you like this, okay?" "Hm. Promise?" "Promise." Liam kissed him. Maybe it was a dangerous promise given their life but at this moment it felt needed. The sheer thought of one of them not returning after a fight was terrifying and cruel. So acting as if they had complete control over their fate was the only thing to stop the thoughts from going down this path. Theo responded to the kiss but then poked Liam's side. "Come on, let's get those things to Ellie. She didn't hire us to make out. That would be a different line of work."

Liam snickered but then grabbed a box and followed his boyfriend back into the store. "Before I forgot, Sadie and Mason plan on taking you shopping to your new friend Savannah's boutique. Told me before I left." "Me??" Liam shrieked and Ellie looked at him in shock. "Yep. Sadie stalked Savannah online and wants to see the stores. Mason's all for that idea but both agreed it would be rude to show up there without you. So, you have to be the sacrificial lamb, puppy." "No", Liam said firmly, "I'm not going shopping. You all dressing me up once was bad enough. No way!" "Tell them that. I'm just warning you."

The young Alpha grumbled and Ellie chuckled. Liam decided to change the topic slightly. "Luka said he would also invite Savannah and Maddie to the BBQ. I'm really excited to have you all meet. They're cool. It's nice hanging out with them." "Or texting with them", Theo teased. It was true, especially Savannah sent a lot of texts but she never expected a decent answer and just spammed with various things. Maddie, her sister in spirit as the two called themselves, responded equally excited and Liam's phone was buzzing significantly more since he met them. "Are you jealous?" "Me? Of what or whom?" Theo asked surprised. Liam shrugged. It had crossed his mind, he still remembered Theo's jealousy regarding Scott once. "Of Luka maybe?" "Why? Because you had a lunch date?" Theo joked and began tidying up behind the cash register. "It wasn't a lunch date. Not even a date. Just two friends getting something to eat. I do the same with Mason." The Second Alpha shook his head. "I'm not jealous. You're friends, you clearly respect each other and I see how happy it makes you. You see it as a chance to exchange views and advice. How could I be jealous of that?" He paused. "I mean, he is handsome and I know you noticed this as well. You have a type, puppy. Charming men with dark hair. Only natural you find him attractive." "I don't have a type." Liam had begun to fill the displays around the cash register and now shook his head. Theo raised his fingers while he enumerated. "Brett. Me. Luka. Even some of your exes. All fit the bill." "No." Liam scrunched his nose. Though he was not so sure about that one. "Hayden, for example, didn't fit the description." "Yeah. This particular type you have is reserved for males only. I met all your ex-girlfriends and when it comes to women you go for different types. But almost all your ex-boyfriends or crushes share the same traits." Flawless logic but Liam would rather swallow his tongue than directly admit that. "Okay, so what? He is attractive. Doesn't mean I want to start something." "Never said you do."

"Can the old coot give you advice?" Ellie injected. Both men looked at her. She shook her head. "Don't do that to each other. Don't tell yourself you're not allowed to find someone attractive just because your partner might get jealous." "I'm not jealous", Theo clarified. "I know you're not. It's just general life advice from an old lady." "You're not that old", Liam mumbled but continued to listen to her. "I saw relationships end over this. Because one partner thought they were not allowed to find anybody else than their partner sexy or handsome. It's ridiculous. Finding a person attractive says nothing about feelings or ambitions. Just like you said, Theo, it's a preference, a type. But this irrational of making the significant other jealous can become such a pressure, it ends in a breakup. And yet somehow society began telling people, young people, this is how it should be. It shouldn't. It's toxic. My advice is to see it as easy as you two do. A little bit of jealousy is good and I know there is a thing called emotional cheating, that is wrong, but not taking things too seriously is the best way to handle it. I am in a happy marriage and we both find other people handsome. Doesn't mean anything." Liam and Theo looked at each other. "I think we got that one covered", Theo muttered and Liam nodded with a smile. "Yeah."

****** "I hate you and regret all my life choices up to this point." Maya had her arms crossed in front of her chest and glared at the building ahead of her. "Why am I here?" Liam put his arm around her shoulders. "You know you love me and your life choices were good. But if I get dragged down by them, I need to drag someone with me", he explained sardonically and pointed at Sadie, Mason, Brett, and Corey currently gushing over the shop window of Savannah's boutique. Mason had managed to convince Corey and Brett to accompany them and they had excitedly agreed. Liam had decided for that alone they all would get one Christmas present less. Or a lump of coal. "Liam, look, they have suits." Mason was already at the entrance. Coal was a good idea. "And bowties!" Or nothing at all.

The boutique was perfectly illuminated and the carpet was held in pastel colors. One ground floor and a first floor, connected through circular stairs. Several clothing racks and shelves with all kinds of garments were placed around. Liam didn't know where to look first. "Welcome, welcome." Savannah walked towards them looking stunning as always in black heels, white ripped jeans and a black spaghetti top. She smiled brightly at Liam before she hugged him. Then she introduced herself to the others. "I am Savannah. Feel free to look around and see what you might like. If you need help, don't hesitate to ask. And shut up, those earrings are adorable." Just like that, Sadie had a new best friend. Both women excitedly greeted each other and soon enough their friends all swarmed the place. Maya stayed next to Liam. "You look out of place. Are you alright?" Savannah asked. "I don't like shopping", Maya admitted. "I just can't spend hours browsing a clothing store. It's just not me." "That's a shame. I think everybody should enjoy buying things for themselves. We try to give customers that here in our store. But maybe we can help you. Pilar!"

A dark-haired woman in Savannah's age showed up at the top of the staircase. "Yeah?" She called out while she walked down the stairs. She wore sneakers, grey shorts, and a colorful top. "Guys, this is Pilar, she works here with me and is also one of my Betas. Pilar, those are Liam and Maya. Maya hates shopping. Think you could help?" Savannah moderated the getting to know each other. To Maya, she further explained: "Pilar is great with clothing and has this unique talent of always finding something a person likes. I swear, she will make this a fun experience." "Oh, great." Maya still didn't seem convinced but she gave Pilar a brave smile when the were cheetah grinned proudly. Then she swiftly pulled her long, wavy hair up in a bun and studied Maya. "Tell me about yourself. Are you more tomboy or more sporty? Dresses yes or no?" "I'm not a tomboy. I'm simply not interested in too much makeup or dresses. Don't know if that makes me a tomboy already?" Pilar hummed. "What are your hobbies? What do you care for?" "Painting, I care about the environment, protests," Maya started to list. "Environment, amazing. We have a collection of local-made eco-friendly clothes here.  I make all of them, so I know what materials were used and how. Maybe we can find something there?" Maya looked suddenly incredibly happy and followed Pilar up the stairs again.

Savannah grabbed a polka-dotted bowtie in blue and white and held it up to Liam. "You would look pretty in a bowtie." "Absolutely not!" Liam shook his head. She laughed. "Relax, I'm just messing with you. You're not my dress-up doll." He chuckled. Her humor was something you had to like, otherwise you might feel insulted or ridiculed. But Liam got it. "You're coming to the BBQ?" "Later, I think. It's a busy day here and I cannot plan in advance when we will be done. Stocktaking, you know? I'll keep you guys updated." She smirked. "I wonder what his house looks like. Is it big? Small? Maybe even bigger once inside." "Are we still talking about Luka's house?" Liam questioned. Savannah clicked her tongue. "Maybe. Maybe not." Her eyes flashed light blue. Liam narrowed his own eyes in concentration. "Are your eyes always this color? Or did they change after you did become an Alpha?" "Blue, you mean? It's the default eye color for cheetahs. Our Alphas don't have different colored eyes than the rest. Blue for everyone." "Wolves only have blue eyes once they took an innocent life. Hence why I'm asking." The blonde shook her head. "We don't have that." Savannah wrapped one arm around Liam. "Now, tell me, any life updates? Things I should know about? Should I take time off work for a wedding?" "My wedding is in a few years, don't stress." Liam blushed. She cackled and let go of him when three women passed the store window. They waved and Savannah waved back. "The brunette one is Beatriz, the redhead is Paola, and the one with the black hair is Carmen. They make the rest of my pack." "Your pack is solely women?" Liam was surprised. "I mean if you don't count our parents, yeah. It's not uncommon for were cheetahs. We are matriarchic minted packs most of the time. It has its origin in the myth of the first were cheetahs. We originated in Africa and there was a village. The old king had been okay-ish to the women in the village. Not the most supportive fella but not bad either. But he got dethroned and killed. The new king made women fair game. They had to serve the men, were mistreated, abused, raped, were no more than slaves. One night the women fled into the wilderness. But without any food or weapons, they were scared and so they prayed to the highest gods for help. One heard their prayers and decided to help them in exchange for something. The women would get the powers to overtake their oppressors and in return, they would forever serve the cheetah goddess. Thus were cheetahs were born." Liam marveled. "I have no idea how werewolves were created. It is so cool you guys know your origin story." "Well." She looked rather proud of herself. "It's tradition and we're proud of it. No, we don't hate men. That's not what this is about." "Who hates men?" Mason appeared next to them. "Nobody." Liam ducked last minute before his best friend managed to place a pink tie around his neck. He just didn't count on Corey appearing behind him and placing a small tiara on Liam's head. "We crown you Alpha of our hearts!" Liam wanted to be mad. But it was hard when he was already laughing. "You're ridiculous!"

****** "Do we have everything we need? Are you sure it's fine? Maybe we should have picked up wine? I don't know." Corey stood in the kitchen and nibbled at his thumbnail. He had begun that after running his hands through his hair and destroying his hairstyle three times in a row which almost caused a nervous breakdown on Mason's part. Liam reached out and gently tugged his friend's hand away from his mouth. "Wow, you are nervous. Relax, it's only Maddie and Asher." Corey groaned. "I know. But I feel this is the first time Mase and I represent this pack as emissary and consultant. Yes, you are here but nobody else is, and what if something goes wrong?" "Corey, you advised me in the past", Liam reminded him. "I know but that was in group settings. This time, it's just us." He pointed at himself and Mason who also seemed incredibly nervous. Liam almost pitied them. "Look, I felt the same way before the Alpha meeting. But it turned out fine. Maddie's a great character and I'm sure Asher is as well. I mean, otherwise, they surely wouldn't be friends." He exhaled. "I also don't think you two are even capable of starting a war or offend somebody. I know you. Mason, you're great at diplomatic stuff, and you, Corey, are great with keeping the peace. I trust you." Sometimes as an Alpha, you had to give a pep talk. Liam could relate to the anxious feeling and the fear of destroying everything but he absolutely believed in his consultant and his emissary. He would have never given them those positions otherwise.

The doorbell rang. "Okay, relax!" Liam felt like a father protecting his kids from trouble in school as he now made his way towards the front door and Mason and Corey followed closely.

And then he opened the door. "Liam! I brought the playdate for your boys" Maddie announced cheerfully and with the biggest grin on her face. She stood at the front door alone, Asher still at the car which he currently locked. Other than last time Liam saw him he was now wearing jeans, sneakers, and a grey henley. It fit him better than the suit. More like him. And it seemed like his best friend had not bothered to wait for him. It also seemed as if he was used to this given he didn't even comment on it when he now joined them at the door. "I'm thirty-one. I don't need a playdate!" He now corrected her playfully exasperated. He smiled at Liam. "Hi, I'm Asher, please ignore her." Maddie opened her mouth in mock outrage and Liam laughed. "Hi, I'm Liam, welcome. Those are Corey and Mason." He stepped aside and pointed at his friends respectively. Both raised their hands. "Hey." "Hi." Maddie had overcome her faked shock from before and stepped into the house. She continued the conversation with her best friend as nothing happened. "No, what you need is some happiness fucked back into your soul." "Oh my god!" Asher glanced at the ceiling as if he asked higher powers for help. Then he gave Liam, Mason, and Corey an exasperated glance. "Please, double-ignore her." "You can't ignore me! You love me!" She reminded him gleefully. He sighed. "I wonder why." But the banter between the friends managed to break the ice, Mason and Corey warmed up immediately, and smiles spread over their faces. "You just stepped into the house, so you don't need an extra invitation", Mason mused. Maddie nodded. "No, I don't need this. We can enter any house unless a or mountain ash barrier prevents us. Speaking off, you have one outside, right? I felt it." "A ghostly barrier created by our witch, yep", Corey confirmed. "You were only able to pass because Liam invited you. Other supernaturals without invitation would have not been able to get over it. But it's amazing you could feel that." "Sometimes we can feel those things. Not always", Maddie explained.

Mason was already on the case and lead them to the dining room where they had put the bestiary and Corey's computer. "He needs to write this down." Liam knew his friend. Maddie pointed at Asher. "I have one of those as well." Asher was more interested in what Corey and Mason had gathered. "Is that a bestiary? I've heard about those but never saw one before. Wow. How did you get that?" "From friends. Yeah, I think that's a good explanation." Corey kept it simple. It didn't need more explanation for the moment, the three of them started talking animatedly. Meadow and Liam retreated into the kitchen.

"I know it's weird. A human and a vampire being best friends. But he makes me feel normal." She smiled weakly. "I don't think it's weird." Liam shook his head. "Mason and I were friends before I became a werewolf but after I finally came clean to him, it was good to have him. To know not everything is supernatural. Sometimes I need this. Normality. I understand what you're saying." Maddie seemed happy he understood and looked at the three men. They were still deeply involved in their exchange, didn't even notice their friends being gone. "I think this was a good decision", she said quietly. "Yeah? That's good." Liam was also pleased it worked so well. She sighed. "He doesn't have many friends. Acquaintances, yes. But not those I-can-call-you-at-three-in-the-morning-because-my-whole-life-is-exploding-right-now type of friends. It's good he's meeting new people." "I thought Asher was part of your coven." Had Liam been wrong? "No, he can't be", Meadow declined, "See, vampires are independent beings. We can form covens but even then we tend to ourselves. I told you I can walk around during the day but at night, vampires are more active. You won't find a vampire sleeping during the night unless they're forced to. Our rhythm is completely different than a human's. It's not like your pack, you are humans as well. We have a human side and yet we're detached from the human living. Having a human in a vampire coven wouldn't work." It made perfect sense Liam just had not considered it before. Logical. "So best friends but not part of each other's groups. Huh, okay." "Yep." She popped the 'p'.

"How did you two meet?" Corey asked meanwhile. Asher put one arm over the headrest of his chair and looked at Meadow. He started laughing. She grinned. "Oh, I can tell you. A few years ago this vampire came to town. She had been going on my nerves for a while and causes some havoc. One night, she was on the hunt for new prey and picked Mr. Asher himself. Look at the guy, who can blame her?" Asher groaned and rolled his eyes but continued to look highly amused by how she was telling the story. "Anyways, she lures him away and I follow. She's doing the most, all seductive and sexy, and then I barge in, ready to save the innocent human. The vampire chick and I start yelling at each other, she cries about how she almost had him and what does he say? Sitting on the couch, frowning as if she insulted him, and then he hits her with: I'm gay!? Like, how could you not pick that up? Completely unfazed by the reveal about vampires." "To be fair, I knew about supernaturals through my father. It wasn't a groundbreaking discovery", Asher relented. Maddie ignored him this time. "From that moment on I knew he is game for everything. We started talking, I learned whose son he was, the rest is history." "Meaning since this moment she's pestering me and acting like my undead auntie", Asher teased her. "Well, someone has to take care you're not going to the dogs. Also, undead auntie? If anything I'm the cool auntie!" She acted arrogantly and watched her nails. "Don't be fooled, she's the one getting her heel stuck in the streets and lands on her behind while trying to get it unstuck." Asher let Liam, Mason, and Corey in on a secret. Meadow shrieked and walked over to his hit shoulder. "This was one time and absolutely not my fault." Every word was followed by a hit. He laughed and tried to stop her from hitting him. "You were drunk and the shoes too big. Which I told you in the store." "Yeah, the only fashion tip of yours actually useable." Asher groaned. "Oh god, no, not this again." Mason used this to take notes. "So calling out god in the presence of a vampire is okay. Nothing happens." "I'm not Satan. We can walk into churches without bursting in flames or getting hit by lightning too." "Demons burst in flames upon entering a church. Hence why my father never visits one", Asher put in his own two cents. Corey eyed him. "Morbid sense of humor or truth?" "Dark humor. His father is the human equivalent of a demon if you must know. Though I personally prefer to call him a walking trash pile of a human being. You never know when a demon is around and overhears. Wouldn't want to insult them", Meadow nagged and Asher shushed her. "Maddie!" "What? Your father is garbage. Not just because of his businesses but just alone based on how he treats you." "It could be worse." This didn't seem to be the first time the friends got into a spat over Asher's father. "At least, he didn't let me be homeless." "He lets you live in a tiny shoebox of an apartment and makes you pay horrendous prices for rent. The bar is so damn low and yet this rat walks beneath it with his head held high." Liam didn't want them to fight and cut in. "The joy of terrible fathers. My biological one is also one of those. But it's good to have people in your life who care about you." "You cherish them more. That's how I see it", Asher agreed. Meadow understood the peace offering as what it was and kissed his cheek. "Such a cutie." "Hate you." "Asher, you're embarrassing me in front of our new friends." "They know you for a few days now. That train has left the station. They already know how nuts you are." Mason cackled. These two gave him and Liam a run for their money. They also could banter and bicker but when push came to shove, they were there for each other and had each other's backs.

Asher returned his attention to the bestiary and pointed at an entry. "That information is false. It says nymphs are redhaired. Nymphs can have every hair color in the world, not just red. If you can, I would note that somewhere." "You can read Latin just like that?" Corey was baffled. Asher shrugged. "Sure. Learned it in school and never stopped using the skills. Especially after I met Maddie and started helping her with a few vampire-related things. Comes in handy." "Asher is good with languages. It helps him in his job as well." "What are you doing for a living?" "I'm an event planner. My client list is small but exclusive. It's not the most charitable job in the world but you have to get out of bed." And just like that, Liam decided he liked Asher immensely. He had this wicked humor you only got after years of being through an absolute shit show and from what he already heard about his father and what he saw at the meeting, Liam could see where this came from. Meadow had said Asher's mother died when he was a child, another traumatic experience. Yet here he was, talking openly with strangers and sharing things with them. Away from his father, Asher seemed more relaxed and himself. And it was obvious he cared deeply for Maddie. Liam liked people with their hearts in the right place. Those were his type of people.

_____________________________________________

Author’s note:

The eyes of a were cheetah when they flash:

______________________________________

I am happy I got to insert Asher more. I love this guy. I love all my characters but after I barely had a chance to write about him in the last chapter, this chapter felt good. Next chapter they all finally come together. Or do they? We will see 😁 Did you like the chapter so far? I hope I managed to bring out the friendship Maddie and Asher have. They're each other's persons.

[bittybattybunny]

this was a curse for Eclipse suggested by @doodleimprovement!! “Moodring hair/eyes”

Fae curses are the one kinda Eclipse can be prey to but most fae don’t wanna risk the grim’s anger

doesn’t mean a few aren’t gonna try to hook her up with princey

Ficlet! (btw timeline; this is before he knows about the werewolf thing)

Eclipse whined as she looked at the mirror. She hadn’t imagined it. She pulled the long strands forward as the red hair slowly turned black the more stressed out she got. She reached and touched her right eye as she saw it mimic the same colors of her hair. She gave a deep sigh and knelt down gripping the sink. A little earth fairy smiled happily at her.

“Good! Good! Light fairies helped! Prisma heart!” it chirped and hugged her leg.

She sighed and patted its head, “no this is bad! Bad! You know I’m really weak to fae magic!” she groaned, “prisma heart….” she stood up and grabbed a hair tie. She stepped from the bathroom as Marcus floated around the living room, his books tied up with threads as he worked on mixing a potion together, a harpy sitting at the table with a splinted wing.

“Oh hello, Daughter of grim.” the bird-woman sang.

“Oh, Hello daughter of the air.” Eclipse gave a bow, her hair taking a light blue tone. Marcus stared for a moment, a quizzical look. He stopped as his potion smoked in his face and he gasped, coughing from the vapor.

“Ugh. even dead that’s such an ass.” he grumbled, “Hold on let me remix this, Anya.”

“No rush, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight. My wife’s busy at a sabbat.” she chuckled as he threw the ruined bottle towards the trash where it exploded in a blue puff.

Eclipse snickered as her hair and eye turned green, but then an orange. “Marcus the little ones cast Prisma heart on me.”

The earth fairy puffed its chest proudly.

“Is that what’s going on?” he grabbed some herbs and a bottle from the shelf, “that’s fun. Only lasts--- what a week?”

“Kiss! Kiss!” The earth fairy chirped happily, “Princey kiss!” it made a kissy face as Marcus stared. He snorted and laughed very loudly.

“I think they want you to kiss my brother.” he pointed out. He cackled watching her hair take a magenta tone as she flushed. He tilted his head and flew over, “Oh interesting, your black eye is doing it too.”

She frowned as her hair and eye turned icy blue and she gulped, “I-I don’t think they want me to do that. And of course, it will! It reflects magic!” she huffed. “Marcus get this spell off me!”

“I can’t.” he shrugged and returned to mixing.

Anya chuckled, “are you in love?” she asked teasingly.

The wolf’s hair turned magenta again. There was a knock at the door and she groaned. Snatcher opened the door with a huff, followed by Kaya who looked at her and got a wide grin across her face.

“Eclipse!” Snatcher grinned, “We came to pick you up!” 

“What great timing!” Marcus threw some water in the vial and shook it.

Kaya frowned, she removed a hand from her coat to point,  “that’s going to---”

Another cloud of smoke blew up in his face. She laughed at him and walked over as Snatcher climbed the stairs. Eclipse’s hair took an icy tone once more the closer Snatcher got. He paused and blinked. He reached to take a strand of her hair in his hand. He frowned as it took a magenta tone.

“What’s with your hair?” he asked as he looked at it.

“Princey kiss! Princey kiss!” the earth fae jumped onto the railing with a big grin, “Prisma Heart! Shine! Insides out!”

“What? Kiss? Prisma what?” Snatcher looked at the fairy confused as Eclipse tried to hide her face in shame.

“I-I got a fae curse cast on me,” she admitted with a heavy sigh.

“O-Oh.” He stared, “I thought you didn’t get cursed?”

“I-I can, fae curses work fairly well on me,” she mumbled and played with a lock of hair as it turned a lighter pink. “C-Cursed objects normally don’t…”

“I see.” he frowned, “why does it want me to kiss you?”

“I-I think it’s a joke. I was explaining to them how you messed with a sea heart and I used a kiss to fix it…”

He felt his face heat up, “S-So if I kiss you it should break?”

She felt her own cheeks grow very warm, her hair back to the embarrassing magenta shade. He placed a cold hand on her cheek with a small, apologetic grin.

She pushed him away, her hair turning dark black. She gripped the strands and gripped her arms in her stressed state. A teal color on the tips as she looked at him nervously. Eyes wide and panicked.

He stared confused by her rejection. He got closer on the stairwell, “Eclipse… a-are you still mad I licked you when I was a leviathan?”

“N-No I’m not mad at all! F-Far from it!” she stammered as her hair quickly bounced between black, teal, and icy blue before even taking a dark pink color as she thought of it. She gulped, “I-I just don’t want to make you k-k-k-k-kiss me b-b-b-because you are f-f-forced is all! I-It’ll fade in a week! I-I’ll just---” She squeaked as he rolled his eyes and got closer to her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. Her heart pounded in her chest as he smiled at her.

“I don’t mind helping a friend,” he spoke softly. He looked at the fairy who was giggling like mad.

“Can I kiss her cheek and it works?”

She gave a small sigh of relief, hair taking a more deep blue tone.

“Mmmmm.” the fae thought about it, “Princey no want lip kiss?”

Snatcher turned bright red and scoffed. He looked at the floor sheepishly, gold eyes averted away.

“He wouldn’t want that! He only does that when he’s drunk!” Eclipse snickered. She gasped when the former prince whipped his head back around, gold eyes locking with hers. Her hair turned magenta once more as he got closer. He gulped and one hand moved to the back of her head.

She closed her eyes tightly as he pressed his lips to hers. But he quickly pulled away. He covered his mouth ashamed as the color in her hair slowly faded, returning to its natural silver state, her eye changing back to black with it.

The fairy giggled and jumped up, kissing Eclipse’s cheek before flying off.

She felt her face turning bright red and looked at the floor ashamed. He pulled away and rubbed his neck awkwardly until they heard another explosion and looked down to see Marcus covered in a glittery, shimmery, slimy, blue substance. Kaya’s four eyes open in shock as the same mixture coated her. She stuck her forked tongue out as she grimaced and sneezed, sending the blue gunk everywhere.

Anya couldn’t help laughing at all the children in the cabin.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Coconut Cucumber Cream Cheese Sandwiches

My entry for the R/S Romance Fest! You can find it on ao3 here, my picture promt and the work summary are down below, and the fic is under the cut. Hope you all enjoy!

The first time Remus Lupin steps onto the Hogwarts Express, it takes every ounce of his willpower not to step right off.

The last time Remus Lupin steps onto the Hogwarts Express, he doesn't ever want to leave.

The train was loud loud loud, his dad’s grip on his shoulder was tight, and the wool sweater he had on was itchy. Being steered towards that scarlet bullet of a train seemed much more daunting in person, less full of wonder and more chock-full of nerves than what he’d imagined.

“Remus, your knapsack,” Lyall said, his grip on Remus’s shoulder almost painful. Remus may be the werewolf, but he could swear his father had claws.

“I’ve got it,” Remus reminded him, yet again. He could tell that Lyall was just as apprehensive about Hogwarts. Sending a werewolf into the middle of a new, highly volatile environment was never going to be the smartest idea, and Dumbledore’s reassurances hadn’t exactly filled either of them with confidence.

His mum was excited beyond reason, prattling on and on about all the new friends he would make, all the new classes he could take, all the new things he would learn. One look into Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes and Hope was trying to see how many of his cardigans would fit into a musty suitcase. But Lyall had almost torn his hair out imagining everything that could go wrong, and Remus sometimes woke up screaming from a dream he could rarely remember, save for the delicious taste of blood filling his mouth and hoards of screaming, faceless children. The two of them were a tad jaded.

As luck would have it, Hope had to take an extra shift at St. Mungos, ever since the Ministry started cutting Lyall’s paychecks. Remus wished his parents had never registered him as a werewolf, had never subjected themselves to the hatred the Wizarding community held towards them through no fault of their own. But they had, so now his mum pulled extra shifts and his dad almost tore through his shirt trying to lead his son through the hordes of parents and children boarding the train.

The Hogwarts Express would only stay for a couple more minutes, so Remus had to stop stalling. He hoisted up his suitcase with a strength he rarely liked showing and tugged his sack higher on his shoulder. “Pa, could you just-” Remus bit out, shrugging his way out of the borderline-painful grasp.

“I’m just checking to make sure you have everything,” Lyall said gruffly.

“This is the fourth time you’ve checked,” Remus complained. “And you keep leading me towards different train entrances. Just let me board.”

Lyall was quiet. Remus then turned to face him with slow steps, trying to muster up a confident expression. He couldn’t imagine he was doing very well, confident expressions weren’t ones that graced his face very often.

“I’ll send a letter as soon as I get there. And every other day after that. I promise.”

“No way in hell we’d be able to afford a letter every other day.”

“I’ll ask some people in my house for paper. Or parchment, or whatever.”

Lyall sighed, running a hand over his face. “It’s not the letters I’m worried about.”

“Yes it is,” Remus said. “I’ll send you a letter before and after each moon. How’s that?”

Lyall’s lips thinned, as if peeved Remus had caught him out. Remus didn’t know why he bothered trying to keep things from him anymore.

Instead of waiting for his father to respond, he took a step backwards. “I have to go, Dad. Train’s about to leave.”

“We’ll miss you,” Lyall said, almost rushed, as if something was forcing him to bite out the words.

“I’ll miss you too.” It was easier, that time, to pull up a smile.

Then Remus turned and slipped among the last stragglers climbing onto the train, their mums waving tearfully after him. Remus looked back once he had climbed the steps, but Lyall had disappeared.

Taking a deep breath Remus headed down the corridor, glancing uneasily at the glass compartment doors. There were children huddled together, smiling at each other nervously. There were groups of students laughing uproariously, sprawled on the seats. There was a compartment where two people were practically on top of each other, attacking the other with their mouths; Remus hurried past that one.

Everywhere he looked, there were people, more than Remus had ever met in his life. They were boxing him in, covering each side of him, Remus started to walk a bit faster, trying to find a compartment to sit in, but none of them were empty. He just wanted one that was empty. The wolf was twitching under his skin, and though he knew it was a good couple of weeks before it would come out to play, he’d rather not deal with the effects of a raging outburst.

Just as he had started to breathe out of his mouth, visualising his mum’s calming voice telling him to take a breath in his mind, there was a loud slam. Snapped out of his reverie, he stared curiously as two students stormed out of a compartment. They were both short, one hook-nosed and greasy-haired, the other green-eyed and freckled. They wore twin expressions of rage on their face though, and Remus shoved himself against the corridor wall as they stomped past him.

Staring after them for a moment, Remus wondered what exactly had happened. He hadn’t heard any raised voices or screaming, so it couldn’t have been a fight. What caused them to leave their compartment?

Then, it hit him. They had left their compartment.

Hurrying towards the direction the two of them had come from, Remus shoved open the glass door. The two of them were gone, so hopefully it would be unoccupied, and Remus could take an even breath for the first time this day —

Only it wasn’t empty. Two raven-haired boys stared at him as he shoved his way inside through the door. Remus froze, staring back at them.

“Er,” He started, though he wasn’t sure where exactly he would take the sentence. Eventually he decided on, “Sorry. I can leave.”

The one with glasses tossed him a smile. It fit on his face beautifully, naturally. “Nah, you’re fine.”

“I mean,” the other said, the one with a rather exquisite brooch pinned to his neatly pressed robes. “As long as you’re not a slimy greaseball like the other bloke, come on in.”

On reflex, Remus’ hands came up to touch self consciously at his hair. Realizing what he had done, he quickly brought them down and flushed, but the second boy had already snorted and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry,” Remus muttered again.

“Don’t apologize for being funny,” Glasses said. “It’s a talent.”

Remus didn’t think anyone had ever told him he was funny.

“I...er, thank you?” It was times like this Remus regretted being such a shut in for most of his life. He thought he had a fair defense against his mum’s constant nudges and unsubtle hints that he should socialize more, given that once a month he turned into a vicious snarling beat hellbent on ripping out the throats of everyone in the near vicinity. His mother had tutted, called him dramatic, and ruffled his hair. Though, those socialization skills would have come in handy right about now, as Remus awkwardly shuffled into an empty seat in the compartment.

Glasses and Brooch stared at him a little longer, and it dawned on him that this was the part of the conversation where he introduced himself. “I’m Remus,” he said hurriedly, as if his phrase had missed the train of conversation at the bus stop and was now rushing to catch up. “Remus Lupin.”

“Nice to meet you, Remus Lupin,” Glasses said. “James Potter.”

“Sirius Black. Pleasure,” said Brooch. Remus blinked at the odd tone. The empty words by themselves seemed almost scathing, purposefully haughty, but it seemed like he was sincere. Just a child trying to make a friend.

Remus decided to take in stride. He figured the two people storming out of the apartment were a bad place to start a conversation, context clues weren’t completely lost on him. So instead, he came out with “So you’re both first years then?”

Sirius raised his eyebrow. “Riveting conversation topic there, Lupin.”

Remus flushed, partly in embarrassment, partly because that slow gesture was exceedingly practiced and Remus wasn’t sure why, but captivating. “I’m not so good with conversation topics,” he said. “Sorry.”

“And now you’re apologizing again!” Sirius said, but he was laughing. His laughter was nice, Sirius decided, and an exchange ending in joyful giggles was a success in his book, so he let his lips quirk up in a little smile.

“Well, since you two are rubbish at talking like normal wizards,” James started, ignoring the offended hey! that came from Sirius, “Let’s discuss the real important thing here.”

“And what might that be?” Sirius drawled.

“The food trolley,” James announced. “We’re near the back of the train, which means it’ll come to us first, which means we have the larger pick of snacks.”

“You know, I’m usually not allowed to eat that sort of stuff,” Sirius said thoughtfully.

“Oh. So you’re not going to get anything?” James seemed to shrink a bit, his infectious grin quieting.

But then Remus took a glance at Sirius, and privately thought that no eleven year old should have a smile that rakish. “Of course I’m going to get something. I don’t see my folks anywhere on this train, and I’m particularly fond of Godfrey’s Gummies. Y’know, the ones that wriggle in your mouth when you eat them.”

“Sounds like a plan, mate,” James said. “I like the pastries.”

“What about you, Lupin?” Sirius asked. “What’s your haul going to be?”

Remus shook his head. “You two enjoy the food trolley. I’m fine.”

“Rubbish,” Sirius sounded incredulous. “If I can blow off my mum and dad, so can you. It’s just a little snack, what’s it going to do?”

And oh, it was hard to say this to someone with a silver brooch pinned on their robes, but hopefully he’d stop asking. “I have to save up my coins.”

There was a beat of silence, then— “We’ll buy some for you then,” James nodded, looking resolute.

Sirius looked at James in surprise, and Remus was about to tell him not to bother himself, but in a second, Sirius adopted the same expression James had on his face. “Why not?”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Bugger off, Remus,” James said. “We’re headed to Hogwarts! Have some sweets!”

Remus paused, took a moment to think through what his mother had always fretted about. Was making friends really this easy? He barely knew James and Sirius, and they were already offering to buy him food from the trolley. Well, if they were willing to do that, maybe having friends was what everyone said it was like. Maybe having friends was worth the trouble of keeping his secret.

The wolf inside him was quiet.

“I like chocolate,” Remus said.

“Brilliant,” James responded. “Chocolate frogs for you, then.”

Suddenly, the compartment door opened with a harsh screech. Expecting the trolley witch, Remus turned to look excitedly at the corridor, and saw James and Sirius doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Only, instead of a plump, round face and a squeaky trolley piled high with sweets, he was met with a plump, round face attached to a short body and a frankly enormous bookbag.

“You’re not the trolley witch,” Sirius said.

“Er, no. But there are snacks in my bookbag?”

“Good enough,” James piped up. “Are you looking for a place to sit?”

“All the other compartments are filled up,” the boy said, apologetically.

“Come on in,” James said.

“What snacks exactly—”

“Sirius!”

“What? It was a solid ques-ow. James! You kicked me!”

“Be nice!”

“They’re cucumber and cream cheese,” the boy interrupted.

“Ooh. Coconut and cream cheese?” James abandoned his tussling of Sirius to turn to the boy.

“Where did you get coconut from?” Remus asked blankly.

“Good point, Lupin. He said cucumber. How exactly does that translate to coconut? And more importantly, in what world is coconut and cream cheese a good combination?”

“Well, for your information, Sirius, my mum puts coconut in everything. Everything. I’m used to it.”

“Coconut and cream cheese sounds like an awful combination, though,” the boy said, shifting to move fully in the compartment.

“Listen to—what’s your name again?”

“It’s Peter,” said the boy.

“Listen to Peter, James! Coconut is utterly disgusting.”

“Or maybe you’re just uncultured,” James retorted.

“My dad once hit this burglar that had been trying to break into our home with a coconut over the head,” Remus said, feeling as though he should contribute to the conversation a bit more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. “Turns out it was just his coworker from the Ministry. Apparently he’d been sneaking in the house for a while to steal my mum’s homemade shampoo.”

Three faces stared at him with varying degrees of surprise and incredulity. Remus noted Sirius seemed particularly impressed. It made him flush, for some odd reason.

Another harsh screech split through the air, and a warm matronly voice exclaimed, “Food trolley’s here!”

---

The train was loud loud loud, but Sirius had his arm looped in Remus’ own, laughing uproariously in his ear, and James was blathering on about something or the other on the other side of the compartment, his head in Lily’s lap as she carded through his hair and his legs being used as a table by Peter.

James, Remus thought, had been the one least changed by his time at Hogwarts. Now, on the last day the four of them—the five of them—would ever sit in this car, Remus could see an almost mirror image of the boy he met the first time he boarded the scarlet train. Sure, he’d lost some of the cockiness and gained some humility, but what boy hadn’t? At any rate, James being a constant was one of the few things Remus could count on.

“No no no, it was ‘cause Parkins jammed her wand up McGreggor’s nostril, remember? The bat-bogey hex came later,” Sirius said from his position curled into Remus’ side. Remus took a minute to appreciate how well Sirius fit there before focusing on his words, then immediately frowning.

Luckily, James voiced his thoughts. “I thought it was Ratale that shoved her wand up McGreggor’s nostril.”

“No, it was definitely Parkins,” Lily said decisively. “I remember McGreggor coming onto her and she forgot how to cast a hex, so she stuck the thing in his face. She told me about it later.”

“Could it be?” Sirius said, rolling onto the floor from Remus’ side. “Lily Evans agreeing with me?”

“Woe be the day,” she said.

“I do declare,” Sirius, well, declared. “It seems our bitter rivalry has ended, only to reveal the lustful desire fueling our passionate arguments. Tell me you feel it too, Evans.”

“I reckon the only thing she feels is disgust,” Peter remarked. “Your hair’s coming out of it’s bun.”

“A fresh-from-bed look,” Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

“I know for a fact Remus did not get up until Prongs dragged him off the bed this morning, and he was half asleep during breakfast,” Peter’s tone was flat, but everyone could hear the undercurrent of amusement threading through it.

“Go back to the lustful desire,” James said. “I’m curious as to how that will end.”

“With the two of us eloping and our holy matrimony winning the war through the magic of true love, of course,” Sirius piped back.

“Mister Black,” Lily gasped, dramatically. “You are a man spoken for!”

“Take him,” Remus grumbled.

“See, Evans? I have Moony’s permission.”

James laughed at the disgruntled look on Lily’s face, the use of their nicknames immediately causing her nose to scrunch up. Remus had asked, haltingly, if James was alright keeping their secret in between the four of them, as he wasn’t quite ready to tell Lily just yet. James had given him a reassuring smile, telling him of course, and took great delight in tormenting Lily.

“One day you will tell me what those names mean. You will.”

“I dunno, Evans. Smart witch like yourself, you should’ve figured that out by now.”

Remus let James and Lily’s argument fade into the background, and was about to get his book from his bookbag, when Sirius popped into his line of vision.

“Moony.”

“Padfoot.”

“You’re looking a little glum.”

“Just a little tired,” Remus laughed. “You were incredibly insistent last night, I don’t know if you remember.”

But bringing that up failed to distract Sirius as usual, because his boyfriend could be an incredibly perceptive person every now and then, and Remus hated it.

“No Remus,” Sirius said, his voice soft. “Something’s wrong. You alright?”

Remus heaved a sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked, putting his wrists on Remus’s palms, letting Remus wrap his fingers around that pale skin, knowing how much it soothed the wolf inside Remus.

Sirius was gazing up at him, eyes kind, a far cry from the reserved but hesitantly-opening-up boy that had once seated himself stiffly in this compartment. Nowadays, the leather jacket looped around his shoulders almost as often as Remus’ own arm was worn, his long hair in a messy bun held up by his wand, his face in an ever-present smile.

Remus loved him so much his heart ached.

He loved all of them, he really did. But the feeling of the wolf curling up soft and sweet underneath a behemoth of a wolf-like dog, safe and protected, though a werewolf hardly needs protection, was something Remus had no idea he’d gone so long without. Unfortunately, it had downsides, such as Sirius piercing him with an all-knowing gaze.

“Are you upset?”

Remus sighed, choosing to just get out with it instead of going through the pain of having Sirius pry it out of him. “Not upset, really. Just...wistful.”

“Wistful?”

“I am going to miss Hogwarts,” Remus started, choosing his words very carefully, “more than any other place on the planet.”

Sirius blinked. “Tad over exaggeration?”

But Remus shook his head, speaking softly to keep Lily from overhearing. “No. Hogwarts was where I was treated like a person for the first time since I can remember, not an animal that needs to be controlled. Hogwarts was where I met you all.”

“Technically, you met us all in this very train compartment.”

“You’re right,” Remus said. “Maybe we should just all stay in this train compartment forever. No war, no problems. Just us and Peter’s 4C sandwiches.”

“Mmm,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “I could live off those coconut-cucumber-cream-cheese sandwiches.”

“I’m happy right now, Sirius,” Remus said.

“And you’ll be happy in the future, too,” Sirius shot back.

“My parents can barely stand to look at me,” Remus said. “Wolf was already too far, I had to be a queer, too.”

“Oh no. Your parents dislike you?” Sirius raised his eyebrow, that same slow gesture that had let loose butterflies in his stomach during first year. “How awful.”

“Hush,” Remus said. “James’ folks treat you like their son.”

Sirius shrugged in acquiesce. “Listen, you’re only staying with them for two weeks. Then you’re hopping over to the Potters’ place so the four of us can spend time like we usually do. The ministry’s saying the war will be over sometime soon, they’ve almost won. Then, when the summer’s over, we hope our career applications went through and we’ll have jobs. And then we’ll get an apartment and have James over every other night and eat those stupid sandwiches and we’ll be happy, Remus.”

“You don’t know all of that will happen, though,” Remus said, fingers tugging at the edge of his sleeves.

“I’m saying it will,” Sirius sounded nothing but confident. “It will. We just have to work for it a bit. But your happiness isn’t rooted in a castle, or a train compartment, got it?”

Remus nodded, almost sheepishly.

“Wow. I’m pretty good at the moral speeches, eh? Usually it’s the other way ‘round, but I didn’t do half bad.”

Snorting, Remus kicked Sirius lightly. “Shut up,” he said, then leaned forward for a soft kiss.

“Stop giving us a free show, no one wants to see it,” James hollered, breaking the little bubble the two of them had created.

“Says the bloke getting a head massage from his baby momma,” Sirius said.

“The hell is a baby momma?” Peter asked, confused.

“It’s an American thing. Means girlfriend. I think.”

“You think?”

“I heard it in a song, okay!”

“Real specific, Padfoot, thank you.”

“You know what, James? The minute we get home, I’ll play it for you to hear. For you and for your parents.”

“Our parents,” James corrected, absently.

“Wait, I want to hear this song too,” Lily protested.

“Nope. Sorry, Evans. I’m afraid it’s too sacrilegious for your delicate little ears.”

“Sirius Potter-Lupin, I swear, I will smack that smirk clean off your face,” Lily said, then turned to swat James, who was silently laughing.

Sirius Potter-Lupin, Sirius mouthed, a little awestruck, and shot Remus a grin. It wasn’t full of sunlight, like James, or kindness, like Peter. It was a little bit dark and a little bit reckless, but a little bit gentle and a little bit graceful too. And, well, Remus couldn’t look at that smile and not drag him in for another kiss, ignoring the catcalls coming from James.

And if he did it outside that scarlet train, right before he and Sirius parted ways at this platform for the last time, well. The only one witnessing that was the Hogwarts Express.

[tanyawritesstories]

Insomnia Interrupted | Sinker x Reader

Our darling silver wolf does not have enough fics, I am here to provide. I have bad insomnia and honestly wish I had a clone to cuddle with when I can't sleep.

Warnings: cute fluff, cuddling, assumptions, Wolffe gets big pissed

•••

Sinker looked over at the clock on the wall, 0300. How had he managed to wake up so early in the morning? With nothing else to do and the urge to get up, he decided to visit the refresher before trying to get back to sleep. On his way back he passed the common room. He glanced inside and noticed the shape of a person sitting in front of the viewport. Sinker stopped and chose to investigate. As he walked closer he saw it was you sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest looking out the viewport. 

"(Y/n)? What are you doing up this late?"

"You mean this early?" You sighed, "I can't sleep, nightmares." Sinker sat down next to you and was able to see your face. "You look like you haven't slept in days."

"I haven't, it's been at least 38 hours," You ran a hand over your face. "Jedi aren't supposed to have nightmares," you mumbled.

"Everyone has nightmares," Sinker said, "It's part of being human."

"Well then I wish I wasn't human." 

That statement made him sad. Sinker always thought you were a wonderful person. As General Plo Koon's padawan you were a strong and kind individual. He had always admired your perseverance and hopeful spirit. 

"You don't mean that, do you?" He questioned hesitantly. 

"I don't know, it'd be fun to be a Jawa. I'm already short and adorable."

Sinker laughed causing you to look at him and smirk. Another thing he liked about you was your ready and blunt humor. According to Comet, her jokes were the only ones who could rival Sinker's.

You looked back out the viewport and Sinker just stared. Stars, she was beautiful. Her hair seemed to shine and her eyes reflected the blue and white lights of hyperspace. He watched as she folded her hands over her knees. Her skin looked so smooth and he wanted nothing more than to hold her hands in his. He moved closer, as if it would bring him nearer to his wish.

"Have you tried anything to make the nightmares go away?" He suggested, "Or something to make you sleep? Pills, injections, meditation, cuddling, anything like that?"

You chuckled, "Everything but the cuddling, as nice as that sounds."

"What's preventing you from trying?" It was only after you glanced his way did he understand why, and an embarrassed blush spread across his face. "Oh right, Jedi code and everything. I'm sorry I forgot about-"

"I would be willing to try," you interrupted. Sinker looked at you with one eyebrow raised, curiosity in his gaze. "Only if you were offering." You unfolded from your bent up position and sat so your legs were touching his. He could tell you were nervous by how tense your body was. He also saw how tired you were by the dark bags under your eyes and the whites of them slightly reddened.

"I'll cuddle with you if you think it'll help you sleep. Even if it doesn't, it'd still be nice," He mumbled the last part. You managed a smile and got to your feet, "Let's go to my room." 

You extended a hand and helped Sinker up. The two of you made your way to your room, Sinker still in his blacks, luckily you encountered no one else on your walk. You entered your room with Sinker close behind you, immediately taking off the top layers of your robes and your boots, throwing them over a chair. "Make yourself comfortable, Sinker."

He looked around, the room was mostly neat save for a few things, like a stray datapad and the robes you just threw. He noticed it was warm in your room, you must have something running to keep the temperature up. Sinker went to remove the top half of his blacks before stopping and asking: "Do you mind if I..?" He gestured vaguely to his shirt. "No, go ahead. I've read skin to skin contact has benefits for one's health."

"Maybe that's something our medics should take into consideration," he joked. The following giggle that fell from your lips made Sinker's heart flutter. He pulled the top of his blacks off in one smooth movement, leaving his muscular upper body on display. Something you immediately took to gawking at, he noticed your staring and sent a smug grin your way. It kicked you out of your trance and you made your way into the bedroom, saying to Sinker that he could throw his clothes anywhere.

He ditched his top on your desk and followed you into the bedroom. It was his turn to gawk as he looked at you in nothing but your panties and a tube top that left little to the imagination. You noticed his staring and addressed him. "I also read that being constricted by certain clothes could mess up your muscles and make it harder to sleep." Your statement got Sinker out of his stare and he was suddenly acutely aware of how tight his blacks felt around the lower part of his legs.

"Great. Then do you mind if I restore blood flow to my calf muscles?" You full on laughed this time and Sinker decided it was his favorite sound in the galaxy. "Be my guest," you told him as you climbed into the bed. He removed the bottom half of his blacks leaving him in his boxers and clambered into the bed with you. 

You watched as he got comfortable under the covers, you stayed your distance wondering when you should move closer. Sinker finally settled and looked over at you. You looked hesitant and he smiled warmly at you. "What're you doing over there, c'mere." He lifted his arm up and motioned you closer. You smiled and he could've sworn he saw your eyes light up a bit. You scooted closer and nestled yourself into his side, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his bare chest. Sinker put his arm down on your back and pulled the covers up around you both.

"Stars, you're so warm!" You exclaimed, "You're like a human furnace, where have you been all my life!"

Sinker laughed, "I've always been next to ya, sweetheart but never in your bed." You snuggled your head into his chest, relishing in his smooth and warm skin. "Shame," you hummed happily, "Had I known, you would've been in my bed much earlier." 

Sinker held you tightly to his side, as if he were to loosen his grip he would lose you. Holding you like this he could feel the difference in temperature, you were so cold compared to him, your small body just couldn't seem to hold heat. He was determined to change that.

"Here, I have a better idea. Climb on top of me," he proposed. You looked up at him questioningly, "What?"

"Just trust me, climb up."

You slowly put your legs on either side of Sinker and he helped move you so you were laying on top of him with your head lying just below his collarbone. In this position your entire body felt like it was absorbing the heat from Sinker's body. You sighed happily again and smiled, resting your hands on his shoulders and closing your eyes. "How's that?" he asked. "Heavenly," You mumbled. Sinker rested his arms on your lower back, cocooning you in warmth and comfort.

Not only was this position comfortable for you but it was for Sinker as well. Even though you were putting all your weight on top of him he felt like he was floating. He wished he wasn’t tired so he could watch you sleep soundly on top of him. Your head was laid a little below his collarbone so his chin fit perfectly on the top of your head, like puzzle pieces that just so happened to fit together seamlessly. He moved one hand to pull the covers over your shoulders. “C-can I ask you something Commander?” You shifted a bit, “Yes, what is it Sinker?”

“Would you have accepted the offer if it was any other clone?”

His question caused you to raise your head off his chest and look into his gorgeous brown eyes. There was almost a fear in his eyes, as if he was afraid of the answer being yes. “No, Sinker, I wouldn’t have,” You concluded. You watched his lips as a wide smile formed on his beautiful face. “You’re special, Sinker. I know the entire army has your face but you’re more than that.” You moved your hand to gently rest on his cheek and he immediately nuzzled into your touch. “No one has your wit, or the specific glint in your eyes, or the brightness of your smile, and definitely not your lovable personality.” 

“I like you too, Commander,” He admitted. You moved to kiss his cheek but Sinker moved his head and your lips connected directly. Your other hand went to his other cheek as you both kissed passionately. It was the best feeling Sinker had ever experienced, your lips felt like velvet and he never wanted to let go. But you did both need to breathe and, after a while, your lips broke away. He stared into your (e/c) eyes and you stared into his. “I’m going to sleep very well tonight,” Sinker broke the silence. You broke out into a full, bright smile at his words and laid your head back on his chest. “Sleep soundly, dearest Sinker,” you bid.

This was too much love for Sinker to take in all at once! He moved one hand from your back to stroke through your hair. “Sweet dreams, (Y/n) darling.”

~~~~

Commander Wolffe’s day was off to a rough start: firstly, his Sergeant was missing and now the General’s padawan hadn’t shown up for the council meeting. Wolffe had been tasked with finding her; his first stop was her quarters. He knocked on the door. “2nd Commander (L/n), are you in there?” There was no response so he knocked again, louder this time. “2nd Commander (L/n), General Plo needs to see you immediately!” Still no reply. He sighed and decided to just go inside and see if she was in there. “I’m coming in!”

Wolffe entered the code and stepped inside your room. He turned on the lights and noticed the mess right away. He saw your robes thrown over a chair and figured you were probably still sleeping, he made his way to your bedroom door. Something on your desk caught his eye, the top of someone’s blacks had been thrown haphazardly onto your desk. Wolffe’s suspicions grew and he punched the open button on your bedroom door. He took a few steps inside and froze when his eyes registered the sight before him.

You were lying naked on top of Sinker, who also appeared to be naked. You were clearly wrapped in each other’s arms with slight smiles on both of your faces. To Wolffe, it was all too obvious what had happened. Feeling anger bubbling up at the sight of his fellow Commander and his Sergeant in such an intimate position, Wolffe scowled. He punched the button for the lights, bright white flooding the room. You groaned at the sudden change and you could feel Sinker shift beneath you. The sound of a plastoid helmet hitting a table with immense force shocked you both fully awake. You and Sinker turned your heads to see 1st Commander Wolffe standing across the small room looking the angriest either of you had ever seen him.

“Would the two of you like to tell me exactly what the hell is going on here!” He exclaimed, furious.

You were confused until you remembered the position you were both in. It didn’t help that the only blanket covering both of you was placed just under your arms making it look like either of you weren’t wearing any clothes. 

“Wolffe I can explain-" You started.

“You had better hope so, young one, because your situation isn't looking so good from where I’m standing,” he snapped.

“Relax Commander, I just offered to help (Y/n) here get to sleep,” Sinker chimed in.

“Likely story, Sinker. You got her to sleep how? By fucking her! Is that what you did!”

You sat up, the blanket falling to reveal that you were indeed wearing clothes. “Wolffe, listen. Sinker offered to help my insomnia by cuddling and sharing body heat, it’s completely normal, you have to believe me.”

“I don’t,” Wolffe said flatly, “General Plo will hear about this.” He turned and started walking out of the bedroom. You reached out and grabbed him with the force, freezing his feet in place. “You can’t keep me like this,” he called back to you. “I think I can,” you replied, an air of playfulness in your voice. “Alright, I’ll just comm the General right now then. He can come see this mess for himself.”

You released your force hold and Wolffe turned around to look at you. “Go tell him then, we’ll be along shortly and I will talk to him and sort things out,” You said. Wolffe huffed and left your room, leaving you and Sinker alone again. You sighed and looked down at Sinker, just now realizing that his hands had been on your waist the entire time.

“What’re we going to do?” He asked. You planted your hands on the bed on both sides of Sinker’s head and looked at him lovingly. “I’ll explain everything to Master Plo Koon and hope that he can clear things up.”

“And if he can’t?” Sinker rubbed his thumbs back and forth on your skin. You shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Sinker sighed and then smirked, “If he can’t help us with this then I sure hope those escape pods are fast.”

[freshneverfrozen]

Tincture - Chapter 2

AC Vahalla Reader Fic

Pairing: Reader x Ivarr or Hytham or Basim (look, I’m a greedy woman. I still don’t know)

Also, an apology, as my Italics and other formatting aren’t transferring here on tumblr. Find the fic on AO3 here: Tincture

Part One

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

Chapter Two - The Short Road

Fremedeleigh is gone.

At least, most of it. You stop at the edge of the forest and look out across the moors and fields. Hytham stops beside you. Three days you’ve been together, and in those days, you’ve eased his pain as best you can. He had revealed his gratitude with shy, rare smiles and sparse conversation. 

Now, when you look at him, you think you know enough about him to recognize regret when it casts over his features. Fremedeleigh is just the corpse of what had been, and Hytham seems to feel it. 

“The Ragnarssons did this. My friend is not so...wanton.” It is his way of saying he is sorry; he did not do this, and you wonder why it matters to him that you could think he’d condone this. 

You swallow hard, unable to meet his eyes when he looks at you. Another home gone. Another life. But you have a chance for a new one. 

You crook a finger toward a charred rooftop beyond. “There,” you say, “That is mine.”

“How did you escape?” He has wanted to ask you the question before -- you’ve read it in his eyes -- but he has been too kind to do so until now.

“I ran.”

“Running and out-running are different things,” muses Hytham, “You must have been lucky.”

Now, you do look at him. But his eyes are too soft, too sorry to be patronizing. You swallow your pride and the bite that wants to spring from it. 

“Luck is not what I would call it,” you tell him. Cursed, more like, with just enough sense of foresight to survive all these years. It has never been a great enough gift to be useful, only one to plague you late at night. 

When you fall silent, your eyes turning again to what had been your home, Hytham edges his horse nearer. The heavy press of its chest against your leg warms you, reminding you that you are not alone. He says, “I will escort you.”

A kind offer. He is kind, though you don’t think he would appreciate being called such now. He watches you with worried eyes, his hands flexing over the reins. 

Appreciation warms your chest, but you force it away, steeling yourself, and you shake your head. “You should look for your friend and Basim. I see no roving Danes.”

He gives you a wry smile. “I was imagining more a loose timber falling on your head. But you are right. I should find Basim.” He thinks for a moment. “Return to this spot when you are done. We -- or, I -- will await you here.”

“I will.” The prospect quickens your heart. A new life so soon. “Good luck, Hytham.”

“And to you. Do not get eaten by Danes, healer.”

With that, he turns his horse and rides south to where he hopes the Danes have camped. You tie off the mare at the base of a nearby tree -- it wouldn’t do to be spotted with a Dane’s horse. 

It wouldn’t do to be spotted at all.

.

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

.

Fremedeleigh might as well be gone. Few of the buildings stand. The air buzzes with the sound of flies and you must cover your nose to shield against the reek of rotting corpses whose names you once called.

When the guilt starts creeping, you tell yourself that it was always to be this way. Their day to join the earth had come, but yours… 

As you flit between the skeletons of buildings, you hope that today is not your day. Timbers creak in the wind, like whispers and following footsteps, and each time, your muscles tighten as you press a little closer to the shadows. The Danes will have moved on. But scavengers, both human and animal, can still be a danger. Your mind conjures an image of the rabid, blue-eyed raider emerging from any of these blackened doorways as you pass them by. Each time the specter returns, you force the thought away before nausea and fear can do more than turn your stomach.

Fate proves kind. Your home is burned, unfit to keep out wind and rain, but some -- only a few, in truth -- of your stores remain. The balms have melted, ruined, and your dried herbs have gone up like tinder. But the box in which you had kept your seeds for new plants and a few vials of oils, condensed a season past, have survived the flames. A few of your other belongings have managed, too.

The under-dress you stole away in is ruined to holes, and you change into the one dress you can find that has not been burned too badly to wear. Gratefully, you find your winter shoes intact. There is little else to carry. A cut-throat idea springs to mind as you are leaving, but though it slows your steps, you do not have the heart to follow it. You should scavenge the other homes, but the thought of robbing the neighbors you had left to death sours your mood. 

You leave as quickly as you came. 

.

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

.

Hytham comes with the nightfall. The man is quiet, but his horse has no right to be so, and both come as something of a shock as they appear from the thicket nearby. You stand from your place at the mare’s feet, patting her silver neck to soothe your nerves, and you try hard not to be bothered by Hytham’s grim look. The man, you are learning, makes a habit of stoicism that does not seem to come naturally to him.

A waning thought has you thinking of his smiles, but you brush it away.

Now, however, as those odd-colored eyes find yours, a cold prickling lances your belly. He climbs down from his horse and stretches, but the action does not seem to loosen his worries.

“We will rest here for the night and meet the others at dawn,” he says. 

“The others?” Your chest tightens. “Basim and your friend?”

Hytham looks away. He has already started pulling at his belts and straps. Such has been the way of your recent evenings.

“And the Ragnarssons.”  

Ivarr Ragnarsson. The name flits through your mind on a chill. He will kill you, if only to save his pride. You have seen men like him before, but none have been as lasting in their impression. 

“Then our roads divide after all,” you say quietly over a knot in your throat. Hytham does not look at you. A new home has been a close thing, but close things are not for you. You prefer sure ones, and risking your life does not bring those. You clear your throat and gesture to a spot of ground before you. “Sit. I won’t send you off with an aching body.”

In the dimming light, the shadows of Hytham’s face catch in a frown. All the same, he sits, shedding his upper garments while you start a small fire. As the wood burns to coals, you search your stores for anything that might ease his chronic aching. He has been good to you these last few days, as you have been good to him, and were these few oils not all you had, you would send him away with one or two of them.

You withdraw a few, these bled from peppermint and sage, and spill a little of both into your hands. You warm them between your palms. These are actions you know, and performing them, simple as they are, takes some of the weight from your chest. 

As you turn back to Hytham, you pause. The glow of flickering flame lights his skin, his eyes, and for the first time that you can remember, you think a man beautiful, rather than handsome. He sits with his arms around his knees, his gaze on the small, licking fire. He is a dream that does not belong in these cold hills. A dream that tomorrow you will force yourself to wake from. 

You ease over to him, forcing a smile. “You will smell like one of England’s elves when I am done with you.” 

The soft teasing of your voice only drives Hytham’s gaze away. He stretches wordlessly to the side, angling himself so that his back and the sore ribs that plague him are exposed to you. 

“This will help more than coals in a scarf,” you assure him.

Still, he says nothing, but with the first pass of your oil fingers over the taunt muscles of his back, you feel him tremble. The sigh he makes is silent, given away only as it mists in the chill air. 

“You are tense,” you whisper, running a knuckle between where his ribs meet his spine. 

“I am fine.”

“You are ridiculous. What was discussed with those friends of yours that has you so...so…” You frown as something in your chest keeps you from teasing him again. The lean, corded muscles of his back feel like wood under your hands, he is so tight, and though you work, nothing you do eases him. “Hytham?”

The sound of his name has him sighing, this one less pleasant than the last. He cranes around to look at you. He really is a fine man, you think, your eyes roving the slope of his nose and the pout of his -- no, you stop that thought.

Tomorrow he will be gone, and the short road to a new beginning with him. It does not bear thinking about. 

Hytham appears to be studying you as well. A knot carves between his brow and he glances away. You resume your work and this time, you notice that the muscles are not as tense as they had been before. He lets his head fall between his knees. 

It is a long while before he speaks. 

“You should not run so easily.” He lifts his head. “Your plan to go to Ravensthorpe should remain the same. Basim would not let the cur harm you.”

Your lips twitch. “Is Basim my stalwart protector now? I do not see him.” You lean near, around to his ear. “Is he hiding in the trees?”

Hytham’s eyes fall shut, long lashes splaying over his cheeks. Quickly, you lean away. You had not meant -- 

But then, maybe you had.

Hytham answers you after too many seconds. 

“He asked after you. He feels...ingratiated to you.” The word is ground out through clenched teeth. It occurs to you that Hytham does not care for the fact that anything having to do with himself should involve ingratiation on the part of another. Another pain, one of many.

“I soothed your aches,” you say through a smile, “And you kept the wolves from dragging me off.”

“It was a fox.”

“A wolf makes for a better story.” You pinch the meat of his side. 

And...he shudders. The feel of his prickling skin beneath your hands is not at all unpleasant. But it is something for dreams. Now, you must talk of reality. 

“Besides Basim,” continues Hytham when his breath has settled, “Eivor will not let any harm come to you. I spoke with her. She agrees Ravensthorpe could do with a healer, and her word is near-law.”

Eivor. This must be the unnamed friend he has mentioned. And a woman...oddly, this eases some of your hesitation.

“You sound keen on this?” You do not like the hope that wriggles into your voice at the question. Or maybe it is a statement. Because Hytham does sound keen on it. 

He turns to look over his shoulder again, more quickly this time. “I like Ravensthorpe. I am keen on its success.”

“You are keen,” you say with a grin, “Keen and fine. What else are you, Hytham?” You pull your hands away and let them rest in your lap. 

He is rosy-cheeked, that’s what he is.

“Tired,” he snaps, “and wishing you would get on with it.”

“Forgive a humble healer for her sins, priest.”

He makes a face. “Perhaps you should not come to Ravensthorpe, after all. There are too many jesters there as it is.”

“Make up your mind, Hytham. Shall I stay --”

Hytham glares at you, but there, again, is a telling twitch of his lips. A new home, perhaps, is not gone after all. Merely eclipsed by a brief fog that had rolled in from these moors. 

“Then you will not run?” asks Hytham when you at last turn away to gather up a few cooling coals into his sash.

“I suppose not. Though if Ivarr Ragnarsson swings for my head, I make no promises. Now, stop your fluttering, priest. This will be warm.”

But he does flutter.

You try harder not to notice.

[rohad93]

Worth the Fight: Chp 6

Luz spent the next few days on her guard duty stewing, trying to decide exactly how she feels about Amity Blight. She waits on bated breath for two days for Bump to inevitably come to her, tell her to scram, that Amity told him about everything that happened in the archives, but he never does.

She can still feel the sting in her cheek when she thinks about that afternoon and anger threatens to bubble up, but she can also still clearly hear Amity’s voice echoing in her head.

‘You don’t know me!’

Never has there been a truer statement she thinks; she knows absolutely nothing about Amity Blight.

She thought she knew at least one thing, and that was that Amity was certainly the arrogant, vindictive type that would go running straight to Bump the moment they returned to the manor, but she didn’t, and Luz is left knowing even less than the nothing she did before, now all she had was questions.

She’s still angry, the insults, the slap… but she can also admit that she was hardly being sensible or kind herself, and she definitely egged some of it on, trying to get a rise out of the noble, which was not the mature thing to do, and she ended up getting exactly what she wanted in the end.

She sighed to herself, running a hand through her hair. She should apologize, Amity was right of course, she doesn’t know her circumstances or anything about her, certainly not enough to go around throwing out accusations, just as Amity doesn’t know her, but the memory of the stinging in her cheek and the insults hurled at her are still too fresh to allow it right this moment.

Luz would hardly consider herself to have a big ego, much as she liked to play the overly confident for laughs, especially considering who her teacher was, but she still had her pride and it would not allow her to apologize yet, not when just as many hurtful things were said and done to her.

She doesn’t see Amity again before her day off, even with no proof, she just knows the other woman is avoiding her, she doesn’t mind that at all, the only thing she could possibly say to her at this point would be an apology, and she isn’t ready to face her yet. She doubted she would get one in return, she is a noble after all.

She tried to put a halt on that thought, jumping to conclusions like that is part of what got her into this mess to start with, despite all the evidence she’d gathered from previous experiences in dealing with nobles over the years that tell her otherwise, she had always prided herself on keeping an open mind, how many times had she been looked down on because of her ears?

She stood in the stables, in the empty stall she had claimed as her personal space, and shucked off the black tunic, bearing the Blight family crest and tossed it at King, asleep in the corner.

She chuckled to herself as it landed on his head, making him sit up. She grinned as he shook it off and gave her a look that couldn’t be translated as anything but annoyed.

“Sorry,” she laughed, hardly sorry at all as she pulled on her own, violet-colored tunic and cinched her sword belt around her waist, her weekly payment of a hundred and eighty silver secured safely next to her sword as she looped the leather into a knot.

She needed a chainmail shirt, Eda had never been willing to buy her one, since she hadn’t really done much fighting herself, but she planned on it now, and the last thing she wanted was to do was be run through by a pike or a sword the first time she entered a tourney or a duel.

“Come on, Bud!” She took off out of the stables at a run, she needed to get out of this place for the day and as quickly as possible. She could hear King’s large paws slapping the ground in a trot as he followed along behind her.

Her sword and coin pouch rattled against her hip as she ran out of the gates, giving a wave to Jerbo, who waved back as she jogged by. His day off was tomorrow, so she would have gate duty with another guard, none of which liked her at all, but that was a problem for tomorrow, she was going to fully enjoy today.

The city is full of people all moving from one place to the next at any given time, going about their business, barely paying her any mind except to move out of the way as the two barreled down the busy streets of Bonesburough in an excited rush. She can do whatever she wants today, so standing still and watching the world slowly move by without her is not on her agenda for the afternoon. It’s as though she’s been building her energy stores for the past several days and she feels fit to burst with all of it swirling around inside of her.

She made a direct beeline for the smithy. She still hadn’t had a chance to explore much of the city yet, so it was easy for her to get turned around, but the towering pillar of smoke she could see in the distance showed her the way to her destination.

She could smell the burning wood, coal, and metal by the time she turned the corner, the shop coming into view and immediately she spotted Viney out front, shoveling coal into the billowing furnace, the sleeves of her tunic rolled up to her elbows and leather apron on, protecting her from most of the errant sparks.

“Hey, Viney,” she called out with a grin as she trotted up.

The witch stood and turned to her, face hidden behind the metal plate mask.

"Well, hey stranger," she flipped the mask up and grinned. "I see you haven't been impaled yet," The blacksmith chuckled as Luz stopped in front of her.

"Not yet, but it’s still early into my knight career…” Luz grinned.

“True… what is that?” Viney’s eyes went wide as she looked down at King, who blinked back at her.

“Oh, this is King, he was here with me last time, though I guess he did go with Eda while we were in the shop,” she admitted.

Without warning, Viney stepped forward and knelt down to be face to face with the demon wolf and held a hand up. King tentatively sniffed the appendage before snorting and allowed Viney to reach up and scratch the space between his ears and horns.

“Isn’t he handsome!” she said, making the beast seem to puff up with the praise and Luz rolled her eyes at him.

“He’s something,” she mumbled to herself, smiling.

“You have a lupus infernum as a pet?” she looked back up at Luz as she scratched behind one of King’s ears.

“A what?” Luz cocked her head at the name.

“Lupus infernum, a hell wolf, they’re a rare species of monster that roam the wilds in the far north. Usually, very, very hostile…,” she hummed, turning back to King, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the impromptu pampering, tail thumping on the ground.

“Well, he’s more of a companion than a pet, and he was already traveling with my mentor when I first met her, she said he just kind of showed up one day, injured, she patched him up and he just kinda stayed." Luz shrugged. She'd never really questioned the beasts’ presence, besides, he was good company.

"I imagine having him around is useful when you're traveling out in the wilderness," Viney said as she climbed back to her feet.

“He is… when he wants to be,” she chuckled, reaching down to pat his head.

“So, what can I do for ya?” she crossed her arms and turned to the human.

“I need a mail shirt,”

“Well, we got ‘em, come on in, and have a look.”

Luz followed the shorter blacksmith inside and she showed her what she had. She picked one up, testing its weight in her hand, they were heavier than she had expected.

“I think this will work.” she nodded.

“Hundred silver and it’s yours,” Viney said and Luz nodded, counting out the silver pieces from her bag and handing them off to Viney.

When the deal is done, she wasted no time pulling off her tunic and slipping on the chainmail shirt, it hangs heavily from her shoulders as she moves about, pulling her tunic back on. She’s definitely going to have to get used to it.

“Do some training in that and before you know it you’ll forget you're even wearing it,” Viney promised.

Luz and King hung around the shop a while, Viney even showed them a few things around the smithy before they spotted a group of the Emperor’s soldiers making their way toward the forge and Luz decided now would be the perfect time to go. She waved to Viney as the two trotted away, back through the crowded city streets.

It seemed that life in the city never stopped, Luz had yet to see a day where the streets weren’t filled to the brim, especially the market.

She could hardly think there were so many vendors all shouting to be heard over each other and trying to grab the attention of the people passing by.

One vendor did catch her attention though, sort of.

King grabbed the edge of her tunic between his teeth and was dragging her in the direction of a witch selling large chunks of meat hanging from hooks in his stall, and Luz rolled her eyes at the beast.

“Okay, okay, but don’t get used to this!” she warned him as she negotiated a price for a thick slice of some kind of meat, she doesn’t even need to know what kind, it’s not like she’s going to be the one eating it.

She got a fat, juicy strip of shiny, red meat for a price that was much lower than she had expected, but she figured the large demon wolf at her side had a lot to do with that. She thanked the vendor and turned to King, who was looking up at her with wide, rust-colored eyes, and drool dripping from his maw, forming a puddle at her feet.

“Ready?” she asked with a grin, shaking the meat and watching as King’s eyes never wavered from it, his whole body shaking in anticipation.

She chunked it up into the air and watched, grinning as he jumped up and snatched it up in his jaws before he quickly chomped it down and swallowed.

“You’re a glutton,” she laughed, scratching his head.

“Luz!?”

The human looked up at the call of her name and found herself staring back at both Willow and Gus.

“Willow, Gus! What are you guys doing here?” she turned to the two with a smile.

“I was on my way out of the city to collect some ingredients with Gus, I didn’t realize you knew him.” the witch smiled at her.

“And I didn’t know you knew, Willow,” The apprentice archivist laughed. “What are you doing in the market?” he asked.

“King and I are just enjoying our day off.” she smiled, gesturing to the beast. Both Willow and Gus looked at him with wide eyes, taking an unconscious step back from the demon wolf still swallowing the remnants of his meal. “It’s okay,” Luz assured. “King is a friend.”

Her assurance didn’t seem to do much as King looked up at them as he ran his tongue across his muzzle and the pink spots of blood now staining the white fur around his upper lip.

“Uh…” Gus stood behind Willow, peeking out at the beast.

“I promise, look.” She knelt down next to King and wrapped her arms around his fluffy neck and gave him a squeeze, ruffling the thick mane-like fur that protected his neck and he let her.

The two witches looked at each other, unsure, Willow slowly stuck out a hand. King gave it a tentative sniff, much the same way he had Viney before giving it a small lick, which prompted Willow to slowly, carefully run her fingers over the bridge of his nose.

He closed his eyes and allowed the soft scratching, which made Gus finally move out from behind the apothecary and with a shaking hand, reach to scratch the spot behind King’s left ear, which made his tail thump approvingly on the ground.

“See?” Luz smiled up at them. “He’s my pequeño bebé," she cooed, rubbing her face in his fur.

"Your what?" Willow blinked at the words.

"Ahh, sorry, pequeño bebé, my little baby," she laughed, finally extracting herself from the wolf and standing up.

"There's nothing little about that." Willow pointed at the demon wolf, which made Luz chuckle.

"What language was that?" Gus looked up at her with wide, amazed eyes.

"Oh, uh, my mom called it 'Spanish'," she explained with a shrug.

"Is that a human language?" Gus is looking at her with wonder in his dark eyes.

"I guess so, yeah." She shrugged again. She'd never heard witches speak it, then again, other than her mother she'd never heard another human speak it either.

"I didn't know humans had their own language…" He pulled a pad of paper from his pocket and started jotting down notes.

"Do you have plans for today or would you like to come with Gus and me to pick herbs in the woods?" Willow asked.

"Yeah! We could use a knight and her companion at our side!" He gestured to her and King.

"Yeah, sure!" She grinned. she couldn't remember the last time someone her own age had invited her to do something with them; probably never.

They talked about all kinds of things as they made their way outside the city walls toward the nearby forests.

Guss and Willow have lived in Bonesburough their entire lives, and know the city backward and forwards, and have also been friends nearly as long.

In turn, Luz told them about all the different adventures she'd been on with Eda and King over the last five years, which suitably impressed them.

"I don't think I could ever have what it takes to be a knight, but that sounds amazing. Excitement and adventure around every corner, never knowing what tomorrow might bring." Willow was looking at her with a bright smile as they walked through the woods, carefully picking different plants as Willow pointed them out.

"Well, I definitely like the idea of adventure and excitement, though I would like to live in one place again,… but what I really want to do is protect people from monsters… the beastly kind and the people shaped ones…," Luz trailed off, breaking eye contact with Willow to look off into the forest, which made the witch frown.

"There's no shortage of either," Willow agreed with a frown as Gus looked at their new human friend with concern.

"So, what's it like in human towns?" The younger witch asked, which successfully brought Luz out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh… uh, I don't know." She shrugged as she reached out to scratch King's head.

"You don't know?" Willow cocked her head to the side in question.

It occurred to Luz as they talked, that most of the witches she's encountered who have anti-human sentiments have all been older, usually at least forty or older. She's never really had an issue with anyone younger, and the more time she spent talking with Gus and Willow, she realized no witches under that age have ever even seen a human outside of her. She can't even remember herself the last time she's seen another human, probably not since her mother died seven years ago, and she can't remember a time before that either. As far back as her memory stretched, it had only been her and her mother.

What does it mean, she knows for a fact there were other humans on the Isles because the older witches know her on-site by her ears; so where are they?

She and her mother had lived alone on the edge of the woods away from any other settlements, she’d always told Luz it was for safety, but she’s not really sure now, and her mother has been gone a long time, so she isn’t going to get any answers on that front.

"How can a human not know what a human town is like?" Gus questioned with a frown.

"I spent the last five years traveling across the empire with Eda, and before that, I lived alone with my mom on the edge of the woods," she explained.

"Wow, your mom just let you leave home to travel around with Eda to become a knight?" Gus asked, amazed by that.

"I started traveling with Eda because my mom died…," The silence that followed her response is deafening and expected, but there's really no other way to say this fact. "It's okay though, it's been a long time." she smiled at them, but even in their short acquaintance with the human, they can tell that it does not reach her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Luz." Willow frowned and Gus nodded.

"Thanks, but, really, it's okay, it's been seven years, I trained with Eda and I'm well on my way to becoming a knight… even if all I'm doing right now is playing guard for the Blight family…," she grunted, rolling her eyes.

"You're working for the Blight's?" Willow questioned, the surprise in her voice is clear.

"You know them?" Luz cocked a brow.

"Their youngest daughter, Amity and I are childhood friends, she visits me at the apothecary when she's able to, which isn't very often but…," she trailed off as she saw the sour look on Luz's face. "I take it you've met her?" Willow chuckled.

"How can you be friends with her? She's so…." Luz pursed her lips, searching for the right word, and several raced to the tip of her tongue, but none of them are very nice, even though she promised herself this morning that she would try to be more open-minded in regards to the youngest Blight daughter.

Willow just chuckled at her.

"Amity can be… intense, at times. Did the two of you argue about something?" Willow wondered aloud.

"You could put it like that…," Luz trailed off before explaining her and the youngest Blight's interaction at the archives several days ago.

Willow winced at the tale and Gus gasped.

"Yeah, knowing Amity, I'd say you touched a nerve... Not that the things she said were any better, but she's actually very nice, I promise," Willow said.

Luz grunted.

She'd believe it when she saw it.

She spent the majority of the afternoon rummaging around the forest with King and the two witches before finally making her way back to Blight manor by early evening.

The sun is starting to dip toward the horizon, slowly, but surely, though it’s still warm and she's already a little sweaty under the chain mail, so a little more couldn't hurt.

The Blight's had a training yard set up near the guard barracks, near the house beneath the third-floor balcony.

She's going to take Viney's advice and get some training in.

King plopped himself down into the hay of their stable stall to nap, while she makes her way to the training yard.

~ ~ ~

Amity sighed to herself.

She feels like a prisoner in her own home.

Even if she had been confined to the manner before while her parents were away, she had at least been able to go places escorted by a guard, but ever since her altercation with their newest guard, Luz Noceda, she can't stand the idea of running into the woman again.

Not so much because she finds her boorish and crass, though she certainly does.

No, mostly, she feels ashamed.

Amity had never raised her hand against anyone before in her life, and to be honest she had surprised even herself after her hand had made contact with Luz's face.

But, what the other woman had said had really struck a nerve somewhere deep inside her, for multiple reasons.

The foremost being that Luz didn't know the first thing about her, and had absolutely no right to judge her, which had lit a raging fire in her gut, one that had quickly been doused in cold fear at the dark look that had fallen over Luz's face the second the shock of her strike had worn off.

For a long moment, she had expected the other woman to hit her back, but she hadn't. She'd simply picked up her books and walked away.

Amity didn't get her at all.

She also feels guilty.

Guilty for slapping her, and where she was adamant in Luz having no right to judge her, she had done the same thing had she not? Hurled baseless accusations she had no way of knowing we're true or not.

She'd been cold and hostile to the woman from the moment they had met, and she can admit now, while she's still annoyed that Bump won't let her leave the manor grounds unescorted, Luz running into her had been an accident and could have happened to anyone.

She grumbled to herself as she walked down the long, empty halls of Blight manor, dress swishing around her ankles with the quick movement.

She needed some fresh air, she hadn't even been to her favorite spot by the pond she'd so dreaded the idea of coming face to face with Luz, and knowing that an apology is owed… on both parts really, but she doubts she can count on one being returned by the uncouth warrior.

She scoffed to herself. She was doing it again, foisting her preconceived notions on a person she did not know at all. This whole affair had put her in a bad mood for the last four days.

Even her siblings seemed to be staying clear of her, perhaps being able to sense the dark cloud hanging over her.

At least there was that. She wasn't sure she could handle the twins and this crisis of conscience at the same time.

Blights do not apologize, but unlike her parents, Amity believes she has enough consciousness to know when she is in the wrong and when she needs to make amends.

Though, knowing and doing, are two very different things; her pride is a very hard thing to ignore.

She quickly moved up the stairs to the third floor. The balcony from there always provided a lovely view of the nearby sea. It was especially breathtaking at sunset or sunrise, she could definitely use the relaxing atmosphere right now.

It's still quite warm when she stepped outside onto the balcony, but there's a breeze that tousled her hair and makes the mid-summer heat more bearable, the few clouds that seem to be rolling across the sky and occasionally covering up the slowly sinking sun also help.

She leaned on the wooden railing and stared out at the sea, watching the sunlight sparkle off the distant waves in flashes of orange and pinks.

It helped release some of the tension in her body, and she closed her eyes, setting her chin in her hand. She can smell the faint salt that lingers in the breeze from the ocean even from here.

She's all but ready to fall asleep standing up when a loud 'thunk' makes gold eyes pop open and glance around.

The noise comes a second time, and now she can follow it.

Down below her, in the training field that was available to the guardsmen, is Luz.

The human doesn't see her from down there, naturally. She's not even turned to face her.

She's facing a training dummy, sword drawn and held in the ready position. One Amity has seen many times in illustrations of the sword-play books she has read cover to cover multiple times.

Despite her still mixed, negative, feelings about Luz, she can't help but watch. The art has always fascinated her.

The other woman is standing rock still in front of a dummy, it hardly looked like she was breathing, but then she dashed forward, and in one fluid motion strikes through one of the dummy’s straw arms, cleaving it away from the rest of the body with the smooth strike before she bounced backward, movements seamless as she put distance between herself and her stuffed opponent, sword raised again and hopped to the side, perhaps as though avoiding a mock strike.

The moment her foot touched down, she is again moving forward, ducking under the dummy's remaining, stretched out arm and pivoted on her foot a swift pirouette that made Amity dizzy just watching, and in a flash of metal, the blade falls, sundering the entire dummy in two at the chest.

Wide gold eyes blinked at the demonstration of skill.

It seemed at least some of her accusations the other day were baseless.

Luz is certainly not graceless, far from it.

If anything, she moved as smoothly as water in a stream, seamless, smooth.

She watched as Luz sheathed her blade and wiped the back of her arm across her forehead.

She frowned to herself as she stepped away from the railing, hands clenched into the fabric of her dress skirt.

She always told herself that she would be a bigger person than her parents. and it's time she finally practiced what she preached.

[teaplease1717]

The Stars Guide Us; They do not Bind Us

Ship: Todoroki Shouto / Yaoyorozu Momo

Rating: T

Words: 9,627

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904745

It’s been a long while since I’ve had a story basically decide to write itself (not since Masquerade) so thank you Haru for creating such beautiful work that I just couldn't stop a plot bunny from forming! The art this story is based on is linked Here!

Also, I'm trying out a new style. Present tense and short little scenes with indirect dialogue. The whole story is meant to be very subtle. Hope you enjoy!

Big shout out to my betas: Kuyashii, and Emberstork.

XXXX

The Stars Guide Us; They do not Bind Us

XXXX

It's useless to dream because nothing ever changes.

Yaoyorozu Momo has come to accept this. The fickleness of fate that young maidens whisper of in wistful voices does not reach her position. Since birth, her destiny, like so many princesses before her, has been inked on vellum contracts and in expensive lineage trees.

So perhaps it is because of this — or despite it — that on dark nights Momo finds herself sneaking out of her bedroom and heading back towards the one wing of the castle where she can pretend, if only for a few hours, that she is the master of her own fate.

Bare feet glide silently as owl wings across cold stone floors. The hallway is empty. There are no tapestries or rugs here, nothing that could mask the footsteps of intruders.

She clutches a golden lantern in her left hand, but it’s unlit.  Momo can’t risk kindling the fire until she is tucked away in the safety of the library where the guards can’t find her — where her cousin, the King, can’t find her.

She knows she has to be careful. Her position is precarious.

When the old king, All Might, had died suddenly without an heir, it had left a vacancy that ambitious nobles quickly rose to contest over. During the ensuing five year war, the first and second successors to the throne were deposed.

It was during this time her cousin, Shigaraki Tomura, claimed the crown.

But his position as monarch remains uncertain. The old nobles don’t truly accept him as king. He wasn’t in line for the throne. And with rumors that the third successor is still alive and working with All Might’s illegitimate son as insurgents, the nobility are divided in their support.

That is why she is here. Due to a complicated and convoluted succession process, she is fourth in line to the crown. If her cousin marries her, the lords that keep to the old ways will fall in line.

She is the link Shigaraki needs to hold the throne.

Momo presses up against the bare stone wall at the juncture of the hallway. The stones chill her through her long nightgown, but she ignores the cold as she holds her breath. Her heart pounds in her chest as she listens for the heavy footfalls of the palace guards.

She may be the link Shigaraki needs to win but her life is still that of a pawn. A piece on her cousin’s chessboard, only slightly more valuable alive than dead. And alive has varying definitions. If her cousin catches her sneaking around, he may not take the kinder definition.  

In the distance an owl hoots.

Momo waits, listening for a moment longer. The corridor is silent, there are no other sounds besides her heartbeat. She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing, then hurries around the corner to stop before two large mahogany doors.

The hallway is too dark to make out the ornate trim that details the tales of heroes and kings of old but Momo remembers the curves and cuts of each story etched into the wood. She cracks one of the doors open just wide enough to slip through.

Inside the library is impressive, larger than anything she has ever seen. Aisles and shelves of books with a large spiral staircase lead to a second story with paths running along with more shelves. A railing of ornate spindle work and gingerbread detailing encloses the balcony.

Against the opposite wall, expansive windows are carved into the stone, providing just enough light to illuminate the library in a soft glow.

Momo closes the heavy door behind her and then makes her way over to ascend the stairs.

Shigaraki never allows her into the library without a chaperone, someone loyal and handpicked by him. And even then he forbids her from the second floor, where books on magic, warfare and independence line the shelves.

A princess shouldn’t concern herself with the topics of men, dear cousin.

Her bare feet patter against the stones. The autumn moon is full tonight, illuminating her path as Momo makes her way down the aisles. The thick tomes that line the shelves stare down at her as if they know that she isn’t allowed, but Momo continues on, towards the back of the library, her sanctuary.

She exits a row of bookshelves and a cold wind blows around her, ruffling her nightgown. Momo instantly stills and looks up. A chill rakes down her spine.

The window before her is open.

The windows in the palace are never open.

Her breath feels like lead in her chest. Momo stumbles back. The shadows behind her shift and a hand suddenly darts out of the darkness, grabbing her and spinning her around to pin her against the bookshelf before she can even scream.

The force knocks the unlit lamp from Momo’s fingers. It clangs as it hits the stone floor and rolls away.

She gasps in shock and a rough hand covers her mouth. Instinctively, Momo’s own hands shot up, trying to pull the intruder’s fingers away, but the grip over her mouth is like a vice. She can’t get free.

The wood of the bookshelf digs into her skin through her nightdress as she struggles.

“Be still,” a man’s deep voice commands close to her ear.

Momo instantly freezes.

Her eyes dart up. An intruder in a black robe looms over her. The hood that covers his face seems to blend his features into the darkness but his eyes shine, silver and a brilliant turquoise.

The deadliness in them is palpable. A wolf in human clothing.

The temperature seems to drop around them. A whimper climbs up Momo's throat as the intruder leans forward and plants his other hand above her head. Their faces are mere centimeters apart now. And she can feel his icy breath upon her cheek.

Momo’s skin prickles and she closes her eyes reflexively. She tries to shrink away, but the bookshelf behind her won’t budge. Her chest stutters in tiny, rapid inhalations as she realizes this may be her last few minutes alive.

I don’t want to die!

I don’t want to die!

It’s not fair...

Everything in her life has been taken from her. Fate has taken her parents. Her home. Her freedom. When will it be enough?

Suddenly, Momo is filled with explosive anger. Her hands tremble. Her life is not her own but she’s still a princess. A Yaoyorozu. Even if destiny wills for her to die here, she will not stand before her fate cowering in fear.

Momo’s fingers tighten on his hand. Her nails bite into his flesh; her eyes snap open, and she glares at him with all the fiery rage she feels at her position in life.

Her anger seems to surprise the intruder. He blinks, his eyes flashing momentarily with an emotion she can’t read, before his expression steels behind a cold wall of insouciance. And Momo feels her anger doused as quickly as it had ignited.

Fear washes back over her. She is suddenly acutely aware of how close he is. How his body is pushed against hers indecently. His leg pressed between her own, pinning her to the wall.

Struggling to tamp down on the panic rising inside of her, Momo forces herself to look back up and meet his silver and blue gaze. His expression is masked as he stares down at her as though considering what to do.

“Don’t scream,” he finally says. Then hesitates, as if unsure, before adding. “Nod if you understand.”

Her heart pounds heavily against her ribs.

It’s a bargain; her life in exchange for silence.

It doesn’t make sense. The rational side of her mind points to the fact that it isn’t beneficial for an intruder to have witnesses.

This could be a trap. A false hope that he will spare her when, in fact, he only intends to rape her before silencing her forever. Momo’s stomach twists.

It’s a gamble, but her options are limited. She will have to take her chances and trust him.

Momo swallows thickly and gives a short jerk of her head in assent.

The intruder studies her for a moment longer, then slowly removes his hand and draws back enough to stare down at her.

She breathes in a shaky breath. Now that he isn’t supporting her, Momo can feel her legs tremble under her own weight. She forces herself to straighten. She will not show weakness.

He watches her with those unnerving eyes for a moment longer, assessing if she will keep her promise. Then he steps back and turns, jumping up onto the open window’s ledge and disappearing into the night.

Momo slides down to the floor and sits frozen, trying to control her heartbeat. Her hands are shaking. She watches the window until her heart stops pounding painfully, then rises and returns to her room, shaken.  

She wonders if she should tell her cousin or at least one of the guards, maybe Iida Tenya, but decides against it.

She is inconsequential, a pawn only slightly more valuable alive then dead.

It would matter little to her cousin if the intruder had killed her.

XXXXX

It takes two weeks before Momo has rebuilt her courage to venture back down the dark, quiet hallways towards the library. The hooded man isn’t there and she feels the tight knot in her stomach uncoil.

Slowly, Momo returns to her normal nighttime routine.

XXXXXX

It’s a moonless night when the dark bandit returns.

There is a soft click of a latch turning. Momo freezes as the air suddenly shifts and the hooded figure appears in the windowsill of the library. His cloak flickers around him, hiding his figure except for those piercing heterochromatic eyes that shine in the glow of her lamp.

There is a moment's pause as they stare at one another. His gray and blue eyes are wide. It is evident he didn’t expect to see her again.

Momo's heart pounds. She can almost imagine him asking if she is going to scream once more. And part of her wonders if she should. It would certainly be the right thing to do. He is an intruder, a thief possibly but — if she alerts the guards — she will be found out and never be able to sneak back into the library.

More than that, the guard on duty, Iida Tenya, will be punished and it will be because of her. She will lose the only person kind to her.

Momo's fingers tighten around the book in her hands. She holds it up slightly, as if in greeting.

The stranger seems to relax at the gesture. He slides silently into the room and disappears down one of the aisles.

Momo sits silently for a moment. When her heartbeat is normal, she returns to her story.

XXXXXX

The dark intruder comes more often after that. His visits are always irregular; sometimes he visits a few days in a row, other times he shows up after a week or two.

Momo suspects that he must have bribed one of the guards to let him in. A regular intruder without connections wouldn’t be able to get past Shigaraki’s men.

Then again, he isn’t a regular intruder.

He moves through the library like a wraith. His magicked cloak swirls around him, blending him into the shadows as he pores over books but he never steals any. He’s smart enough for that.

The walls are enchanted to alert the King’s innermost guards if anyone removes one of the volumes. It’s ancient magic that only those with connections to the royal family and a few select guards know about.

She wonders how he learned.

Perhaps it comes with the trade.

XXXXXX

He has pulled back his hood to read and it’s the first time Momo is able to glimpse what the dark intruder looks like.

The light from her golden lamp shines, highlighting short hair that is perfectly split between red and white. It is unique coloring and not a surprise that he has to use an enchanted cloak to disguise his features.

Her eyes trail lower over his face. There’s a scar covering his left eye that she hasn’t noticed before. But in the flickering light of her lantern, she can distinguish the discolored flesh.

A curse mark.

Probably meant to kill him, but perhaps miscast or canceled. Incomplete.

He’s lucky to be alive.

XXXXXX

Momo stumbles forward with a gasp before catching herself. The bones of the corset bite into her flesh through the silk undergarments, cinching her waist smaller.

Her personal handmaid - the only maid who never changes - Himiko Toga, stands behind her pulling on the lace strings.

“No pain, no gain,” Toga says in a sing-song voice. “With my help, you’ll be the most beautiful lady in all the land. I’m like your personal fairy godmother! Got to look after my sweet, sweet princess.”

Momo doesn't say anything.

Toga hums happily as she ties the lace along Momo’s spine. While she works, Momo testingly draws in a slow breath before a sharp pain pokes her as the whale bones squeeze her waist.

She can't breathe.

XXXXXX

Her mouth is dry as she stares at the red and orange flames flickering in the intruder’s hand.

Momo doesn’t know many mages. Sorcery is rare and elemental magic even rarer.

It is said that the old emperor of the Northern lands had been a conjurer of flames, his wife an enchantress of ice. His disowned son, Toya, certainly has his father’s fire magic coursing through his veins. Momo has seen her cousin’s right hand man demonstrate his gift enough to know.

But Toya’s flames are blue and blistering hot. Meant to incinerate and strike fear into all who behold them, allies and foes alike.

The intruder’s fire is warm, and Momo realizes she doesn’t mind it.  

XXXXXX

Momo settles back into her usual spot on the floor. It gives her the best view of the entire library, while also allowing for her to remain hidden.

“You really have this down.”

Momo looks up at the dark intruder. He rarely speaks.

She licks her lips. “Yes,” she says after a moment. “I have to be careful if I don’t want to get caught. People in the castle aren't stupid. The guards have been trained by my cousin, Shigaraki. The only way to stay ahead is by being smarter.”

He nods and turns back to look down at the table where a new set of books are laid out.

Momo watches him for a few moments before returning to her own volume.

XXXXXX

“What are you looking for?” Momo asks one night.  

The dark intruder looks up. The light of his flames reflect off of his eyes making him look ferocious.

Momo forces herself to relax as she approaches and places her lamp on the table. It’s been long enough that she knows he won’t hurt her. She pushes her loose hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t have anything else to do. I don’t mind helping you search.”

He stares at her and his eyebrows furrow as if trying to read her intentions.

Momo is tempted to roll her eyes but refrains herself. It isn’t lady-like.

She looks down at the table and pulls over one of the books he has discarded, History of Curses and Ailments . She flips it open.

“It’s not all out of charity, just so you know,” she says after a moment. Momo doesn’t need to see him to feel her companion’s eyes narrow. “The faster you find what you’re looking for the sooner you’ll leave, and the risk of me being found decreases.”

She looks up and meets his gray and turquoise gaze. His expression is a mask, and she says. “Think of it as a mutual symbiotic relationship.”

He stares at her, and Momo thinks a faint smile pulls at his lips but it may be a trick of the lamplight.

XXXXXX

“It’s for a client,” the intruder says.

Momo looks up from her book at the sound of his voice. It’s deep and husky, pleasing to listen to. “What is?”

“What I’m searching for. My client asked me to look up a cure for a curse he got during the war.”

Momo nods. Then she tilts her head to the side to study him. “But why here? Surely there are safer places to search in than sneaking into the king’s castle.”

He hesitates for a moment. “I’ve been told this is the best library in all of the country. The old king supposedly liked to collect information on countering dark magic.”

XXXXXX

Momo stares out her bedroom window at the snow now covering the palace grounds.

It’s lonely and cold in her cousin’s castle with nothing to do besides watch the days slip by.

Sometimes Momo has to wonder if it’s her destiny to decay away in her cousin’s palace.

XXXXXX

“Will you tell me what it’s like outside?”

The dark intruder’s fingers still. “What do you mean?”

Momo looks down. “I don’t get news about the outside world. I’d like to know what is happening.”

“Why don’t you ask one of your handmaids? They’d tell you.”

“I can’t.” Momo’s lips twist. “They’re all assigned by my cousin. And Shigaraki changes most of them every few weeks.”

The intruder seems to consider this. “Don’t you have any friends?”

Momo shakes her head. “There is a guard who is kind to me. Sir Iida. But we don’t speak much. He’s the reason I’m able to sneak in here at night. If he spots me I’ll get a scolding but he doesn’t tell Shigaraki.”

The intruder studies her. “What about your parents? They don’t bring you outside?”

Momo looks down at the page open in front of her. “My parents died a few years ago. The insurgents supposedly attacked their carriage on the way home from the capital.”

The dark intruder is silent for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Momo drags in a shaky breath. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”  

XXXXXX

Snow drifts down slowly outside the library window.

Momo’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Socks?”

The intruder shifts. “Your feet are cold, aren’t they?”

Momo blinks and curls her toes against the stone floor. She has gotten used to wandering the castle barefoot. Her wardrobe is in the room next to the maid Shigaraki has assigned her. There is no way for her to sneak out any garments without Toga Himiko knowing.  

The intruder must take her silence as objection. “If you don’t want them I’ll take them back.”

“No,” Momo says quickly, shaking her head and reaching for the woolen pair of socks in his hand. “Thank you. You’re-you’re very considerate.”

He shrugs and looks away. “It's winter and you’re barefoot. If you’re worried about your handmaids finding them, I can bring them with me when I visit.”

Momo fingers the pair of socks. They’re nicely made. Thick wool of high quality. She looks up and gives him a small smile. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

The back of her neck feels warm.

XXXXXX

“There’s been rumors that Lord Aoyama, from the south, may be... sympathetic to the bastard’s side. Maybe even housing some of the bastard’s men.”

“Oh?” Shigaraki raises a brow, and a small smile curls on his lips as he picks up his golden chalice. “We better invite Lord Aoyama to come assure us of where his loyalties lie.”

“Of course, my liege.” The knight bows his head, but doesn’t move to stand.

Shigaraki’s eyes narrow slightly. “Is there something else?” he asks, looking over his cup.

The knight hesitates; his eyes glance towards Shigaraki’s left where a man with dark burn wounds sits pushing around the food on his plate.

Todoroki Toya — her cousin’s right hand man and the Lord of the North.

Momo finds it interesting that her cousin keeps him around. He would have been the heir to the throne if not for his father disowning him and naming his youngest son his successor.

But then again, her cousin has always liked violence and Toya has a disposition for it.

“You can speak freely, knight.” Shigaraki’s voice is light, but there is a hint of impatience laced in his words.

The man lowers his head. “Of course, my king.” He clears his throat. “There have been rumors that the Lord Toya’s brother is among the men.”

This catches the burned man’s attention and he sits forward in his chair. “Oh? Is that so...And you’re sure of these rumors?”

The man nods. “One of the spies identified a man with a curse mark that is identical to the one my Lord gave to his brother.”

Momo doesn’t have to see Toya’s face to know the maniacal gleam in his eyes. Even she knows of his hatred for his younger brother. “I better have a look myself then.”

Shigaraki waves him away blithely.

“Do you hear that, dear cousin?” he asks, once the men are gone. His smile is a little too wide. “We’ll catch those traitors who killed your parents. I swear to you that I’ll make sure your parents are avenged.”

Momo lowers her head and dips a spoonful of steaming soup, but it tastes cold on her tongue.

XXXXXX

“Are you not researching the curse tonight?”

Her companion’s fingers still over a leather bound book. Momo notes that he seems more haggard tonight. Dark circles sit under his striking heterochromatic eyes and his red and white hair is unbrushed.

It’s the first time he’s visited in a while.

“I’ve… gotten a sudden urge to read about Hizashi Yamada,” he says slowly.

“The war general?”

He doesn’t answer and instead pulls the book down from the shelf.

Momo swallows thickly as she watches him leaf through a few pages. Her hands tighten around the sides of the books in her arms, and she looks away. “Yamada — he always gets the most attention, but he was just a peacock in uniform. My favorite general is Tsunagu Hakamada, for his tactics.”

She can feel her companion’s eyes on her. Momo licks her lips and wavers, for a moment, before moving towards a bookshelf further towards the back of the library. She can’t hear her companion’s footfalls but knows he is following her.

Momo stops in front of one of the shelves. Her eyes run along all the spines before reaching up and pulling a plain book from the shelf. “Yamada had a good publisher, but his strategies weren’t all that sound. Tsunagu is the better strategist.”

Her companion raises a brow as he stares at her, and Momo gets the impression that he is coming to a new conclusion about her. “I didn’t know they taught war strategies in Princess class?”

Momo shifts. Her cheeks feel warm. “They don’t.” She looks down at her feet. “I have a lot of free time.”

“I’ll take your advice,” he says after a moment.

XXXXXX

Momo stares blankly, trying to disassociate from the scene. The rowdy crowds. The wooden stand. The line of the usurper's men kneeling before the blade.

She is dressed in her best; Shigaraki wouldn't have her in anything less when he is trying to make an example. Her mother's prized golden necklace with a Phoenix tear hangs around her neck.

Shigaraki curls his hands into tight fists on the arms of his chair. His knuckles are white.

The majority of the usurper’s men have escaped, and her cousin is craving vengeance for the embarrassment. The golden crown reflects off of his white hair like a halo, and he smiles, his eyes shining in malicious glee.

The crown sitting atop her cousin’s head is gold adorned with rubies and diamonds.

It is a symbol of power. A symbol of the prosperity and richness of their nation.

Momo thinks it’s hideous.

She crosses her hands demurely in front of herself to hide the shaking. She knows if she shows any emotions that she will pay for it later. Her cousin doesn’t like weakness.

Shigaraki raises his hand and the crowd roars. The executioner raises his sword.  

Momo hopes in her next life she can be someone strong enough to save others.

XXXXXX

“What are you doing?”

The night air shifts behind her and Momo can feel her companion looking over her shoulder. Her stomach curls slightly but she ignores the feeling.

“Coming up with a cure for your client,” Momo says without looking up as her quill scratches out a point. “We haven’t found a counter spell to your patron’s dark curse, so I’m inventing one.”  

“Do you think you can?” He sounds almost curious.

“We’ll see, but I think I can.”

XXXXXX

The glass smashes as it hits against the wall. Her cousin paces up and down the room trembling in fury at the news that the usurper's men have not been caught. His hand travels up to his neck, and he scratches himself until blood runs in rivulets down his pale skin like red streams.

Momo stares silently at the floor and imagines that fate has made her someone else. Although she knows it is useless. Dreams aren’t meant for princesses.

XXXXXX

“I wish I were a man. Then I could do whatever I wanted,” she says at the end of one night.

“What would that be? A pirate?” She can almost hear the hint of a smile in his voice. And she can’t help but feel pride for being the one to change his mood.

He’s been quieter and angrier than usual.

Momo leans forward to poke him, but he dodges away easily. Momo huffs. “Do I look like a pirate to you?”

“No, you’re too clumsy.”

She goes to poke him again but, as if the universe wants to prove his point, her nightgown catches on the side of the table. Momo stumbles. Her companion catches her arm, steadying her.

Momo feels her face warm. She looks away as he releases her and bends down to deftly untangle the edge of her nightgown from where it’s caught.

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

He nods, straightening. The playfulness has dissipated from the room. They collect the books from the table and begin to reshelf them.

There were more deaths that week. More insurgents from All Might’s illegitimate son’s army. She had stood there as they burned, unable to do anything to stop it, unable to make her cousin reconsider their sentence.

She is powerless and she hates it.

“I-I think in my next life I’d like to be a knight,” she says quietly as she pushes the last book back into place and settles back down onto her feet. “I’d like to be someone who can make my own destiny. Maybe I could even leave here, roam the land, protect those in need.” She turns and leans against the wooden bookcase. Her throat feels tight. “It…it feels very confining to be a woman, and a princess most of all.”

The cloak casts dark shadows over her companion’s face but Momo can feel his attention on her. She licks her lips and turns to lean back against the bookcase.

She’s never told anyone these dreams before. Men don’t want to listen to a woman’s silly thoughts.

Her companion is different. He has never judged her for her mind but it is still awkward to voice her dreams aloud, like touching a fresh cut. You never know how bad the sting will be.

And she is ready for the sting. He stares at her for so long Momo is about to recant her ideas when he says. “If you’re a knight, maybe I’d be a princess and you can protect me.”

Momo blinks at his strange answer and then laughs. She can’t remember the last time she laughed. She has forgotten how freeing it is.

“I think I’d like that.”

XXXXXX

Momo isn’t a romantic. Someone in her position in life does not get that luxury. She will be married off for political stability. But sometimes, in the dead of night, as she watches her companion’s long fingers flip through pages of old worn books with gentle tenderness, she wonders if this is what it would feel like if she were to be in love.

She pushes those thoughts away quickly. Thinking about something that isn’t for her, won’t do any good.

Her fate has been set since the moment she was born, and nothing will change it.

XXXXXX

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to break it.”

Momo stares at the ruby that has fallen out of the golden crown. She swallows thickly and kneels down next to the maid with short brown hair.

She reaches out and covers the woman’s hands with her own. They both knew the maid shouldn’t be in the throne room. “It’s okay. I’ll handle it.”

“But my princess!”

“It’s okay. I’ll tell my cousin it was me.”

“But—he’ll be furious!”

Momo avoids the maid’s gaze. “It’s okay. I’ll think of something.”

The woman looks up at Momo with a mixture of relief and fear.

Momo reaches out and strokes her short brown hair. This is the only way Momo can help. If her cousin knows who ruined the crown, the maid will be beheaded. The only way to save her is to take the blame.

Her life may be a pawn but she is more valuable alive than dead…for now at least.

XXXXXX

“What’s that?”

Momo’s hands still on the page as light footfalls draw closer. She drops her hand holding the lantern by her side and looks down, hoping her long hair and the dark of the library will hide the ugly purple bruising climbing up her neck and splaying over her cheek.

He stops in front of her. Then warm fingers grasp her chin. Momo flinches slightly at his touch, but her companion doesn’t seem to notice as his hand gently lifts and turns her head towards him. “What happened?”

The words almost sound angry.

Momo stares at his chin. A small, bitter smile curls on her lips. “I did something I shouldn’t have.” She tries to pull back, but his fingers tighten. Not painfully, but enough to keep her in place. “It's nothing.”

The room is cold, even for it being the beginning of spring. She can see her breath in the air.

Momo reaches up and touches the back of his hand, but he doesn’t remove his fingers. His flesh, just moments before warm, is now icy and rough, like rocks.

“Does this happen often?” Her skin prickles as his breath ghosts over her skin. A shiver runs down her spine.

She thinks his voice is lower and darker than usual, but it could be her imagination. There is no reason for him to care.

“Sometimes,” she says after a moment. Her opposite hand curls tighter around the lantern handle. “When I anger him.”

Her companion stares at her for a moment longer, before releasing her and stepping away. He pulls his hood up, hiding his expression and the dark stones that have started to protrude from his skin.

He’s quiet and leaves soon after. It is probably for the best. Momo shouldn’t get her hopes up that he cares.

Dreams aren’t meant for princesses.

XXXXXX

“Here. I brought you something.”

Momo looks up from the book she is poring over, surprised.

Her companion steps closer. Momo holds out her hand, and he drops a pouch into it. It’s unremarkable, a brown drawstring bag that feels weightless in her hands.

He steps back and stares at her. His expression is carefully masked, but something in his posture almost seems uncertain. “It's not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

Momo stares at him for a moment then slowly opens it. A small object no larger than a pebble falls into her hand and her breath catches.

She feels her heartbeat quicken.

The stone is small, an oval the size of a pebble, but it's radiant.

Her hand shakes. Carefully, she holds it up. Glowing reds and golds shimmer forming dark clouds that morph into luminescent fog. The remnants of ancient magic linger along the smooth edges.

Momo can barely breathe. “A creation stone,” she whispers, voice quivering.

“Do-do you not like it?” he asks softly from next to her.

Her vision blurs. The stone can only be mined in her family’s lands; there haven’t been any found in hundreds of years.

She shakes her head. “It’s beautiful.” The words don’t give it justice. It’s like starlight—an entire nebula—caught inside a stone. “Why?” Her voice trembles.

“I thought you’d like it.”

Momo wants to cry, instead she smiles and holds it up to the moonlight. It gleams and Momo can almost imagine the magic shimmering around it.

She closes her eyes and makes a wish, even though she knows that it’s useless. The magic has left the stone a long time ago.

XXXXXX

“I finished.” She hands him a piece of paper. Her throat is tight, like the words are bitter honey sticking in her mouth. “This is a list of ingredients your patron will need for the reversal spell. Most of the ingredients are easy enough to find but...”

Her companion takes the slip and scans it. His face grows ashen. “A phoenix tear?” His hands tighten around the piece of paper until his knuckles are white. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Momo avoids his gaze. “I did the calculations and formulas a number of times. It’s the only way.”  

His shoulders slump forward. “It would take forever to find a phoenix tear — There must be another way.”

Momo doesn’t say anything. Sometimes there is only one way. Destiny isn’t that kind.

XXXXXX

Her companion continues to visit, looking for an alternative spell to counter the curse. Momo wonders every time he leaves if that will be the last time she will see him. She doesn’t understand what drives him. Why is finding a cure so important?

XXXXXX

“I was thinking it was about time we married. The summer solstice is coming up…that seems like a good time. What do you say, my dear cousin?” Shigaraki turns to her, his eyes dance with cruel glee.

Her stomach twists.

I don’t want to marry you.

The words echo in her heart, but Momo doesn’t say them aloud. Her fate has always been to be queen. She folds her hands respectfully in front of herself and lowers her eyes. “As you wish, my king.”

He smiles; it’s the response he wants to hear.

XXXXXX

Momo stands before her window looking out at the moon kissed grounds beginning to bloom with summer flowers – hydrangeas and hyacinths.

The creation stone feels heavy in her hands. She brings it up to her lips and presses the rock to her mouth as she says a silent prayer.

Then she goes over to her jewelry chest and opens it. She locks the stone back into its secret compartment. Then takes a deep, steadying breath and pulls out her mother’s phoenix necklace and slides it into her nightgown pocket.

XXXXXX

“I wanted to say goodbye. This is the last time I will be able to see you.”

Her companion looks up sharply.

Momo opens and closes her mouth several times before she is able to put the truth into words. “I’ll-I’ll be getting married in two weeks. On the summer solstice.”

There is a resounding silence, as her companion stares at her. His turquoise and gray eyes shine brightly, like fallen stars.

She sees his hands curl slowly into fists at his side.

“How do you feel about that?” he asks after a moment. There is a faint tightness in his voice but his expression is masked.

She opens her mouth and hesitates. “I’m scared,” she finally admits in a soft voice barely above a whisper. She looks down at the stone floor as her vision begins to blur. Her feet are covered in the woolen socks. “I don’t want to get married.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees her companion move closer until he stands near enough that his dark robe almost brushes against her gown.

Momo swallows. Her hands twitch by her side. If she reaches out, she can grasp onto his cloak.  But she knows she shouldn’t. If she touches him now, she worries she won’t be able to let go.

Her fingers tremble. She brings a hand up to curl over her heart as she bundles her courage and looks up to meet his gaze.

“May I ask a favor before you go?” Momo whispers.

He stares at her intently, and she takes it as a sign of acceptance. She inhales slowly.

“Would you kiss me?”

His eyes widen marginally, and Momo continues before she loses her nerve. “It’s silly, I know. But I want my first kiss to be with someone I choose. Someone not my cousin.”

She can see her dark companion’s jaw tighten. His expression flashes for an instant. A myriad of emotions flicker behind his heterochromatic gaze so fast she doesn’t have time to read them before his mask slips back in place and he stares at her.

Momo looks away. Her chest hurts. She thinks he is going to reject her when he takes a step closer, planting a hand above her head. She can feel the heat of his body through his robe.

His other hand comes up. His fingers brush against the column of her throat before his thumb slides up to nestle under her jaw and he gently lifts her chin, leaning forward. Momo’s heart stutters, and she closes her eyes as his lips skim against hers.

It’s a chaste kiss and so gentle her heart aches.

And it doesn’t last long enough.

He pulls back slightly and Momo opens her eyes. He’s staring at her, his expression intense. “Run away with me. Right now. I’ll protect you.”

Momo’s heart skips a beat as his breath brushes over her lips. Hope and longing fill her chest.

It would be so easy to leave and forget everything. She could create her own destiny. But — she is a princess and her cousin, nor would fate, ever let her go so easily. Someone always has to pay.

Momo draws in a quivering breath and shakes her head. Her chest hurts. “I-I can’t.” Her voice breaks slightly.

The necklace in her pocket is heavy. She swallows and reaches into her dress and slides a finger over the curve of the pendant before pulling it out.

“I brought you something to say goodbye.” Her voice is small. She holds out the golden necklace and places it gently in his open hand. “It was my mother’s. The phoenix tear in the middle should be the last piece you need for the spell.” Gently, she closes his fingers over the pendant.

Her fingers are shaking and she withdraws her hands quickly to curl behind her back. There is a sharp tightness in her chest. “Remember your patron will need about a week or more to recover. Having been cursed for so long will take a lot of energy to undo. Make sure he only has his best men around him during that time.”

Her companion doesn’t respond. He continues to stare at her, his gaze piercing as if he is trying to memorize what she looks like, but perhaps that is just her own reflection shining back at her.

He doesn’t come again after that night.

XXXXXX

The palace is in an uproar. The usurpers have planned well.

They attacked the northern lands drawing Toya away before staging the main assault on the castle, the day of her wedding.

Momo stands in her room, dressed in rich silks. Her hands shake and she clasps them together over her chest as she listens to the shouts and the clang of steel that echo throughout the palace.

Toga Himiko stands by her side. Her eyes shine, but Momo has a feeling it's not from the same emotion as the one making her own heart rate spike.

The screams draw nearer. Momo’s lips tremble and her eyes dart to her dresser and the jewelry case sitting on top. Her creation stone is locked securely in its compartment but she wishes she were holding it.  

“Looks like the usurper is here,” Toga says thoughtfully. Momo looks back at her and the maid’s eyes flash and suddenly Momo is on the floor. Her head rings from the impact against the stones. There is something wet in her hair.

Toga straddles her. A knife flashes down towards Momo’s throat and instinctively she reaches up and closes her hand around Toga’s, trying to push the steel away from her jugular.

For being of smaller stature, Toga is strong and gravity is on her side. Her maid laughs. “Stop struggling, my princess. Your king doesn’t want his precious cousin to be defiled on her wedding day by these cruel, cruel men. This is the sweeter way out.” Her smile is deranged.

The blade lowers.

Momo strains. Years of inactivity weigh against her. Her arms begin to give.

The knife inches lower. A drop of liquid rolls down her throat.

Bang!

Suddenly the door of her room slams open and Toga is gone; a woman with short brown hair is standing over her, breathing hard.

The maid from the throne room, Momo realizes.

The woman’s expression is ferocious as she holds up her short sword covered in blood. When it is clear that Toga won’t be moving, the maid kneels quickly by Momo’s side and helps her sit up. There is a sharp pain at the base of her skull, and when Momo touches it, blood covers her fingertips.

“Are you alright?” the maid asks. Her eyes shine with unfiltered worry.

Momo doesn’t know. Her heart is racing in her chest. She stares past the maid at Toga’s slumped form against the wall. The maid notices, and her expression hardens. Her fingers tighten around Momo as her chocolate eyes meet hers.

“I won’t let her harm you. I won’t let anyone harm you. This time I’ll be the one to protect you. I made a promise to him.”

Momo doesn’t dwell on what the woman means. Hope is a dangerous thing, and dreams haven’t ever been for princesses.

XXXXXX

The battle ends. Her cousin flees, and All Might’s illegitimate son, Izuku Midoriya, takes the castle.

Celebratory singing fills every corner of the palace.

The once quiet dining room is alight with laughter and feasting. Midoriya sits in her cousin’s seat. Flanking his left side is a blonde man with beady red eyes and Sir Iida. On his right is the maid, Ochako Uraraka - who it turns out, isn’t really a maid but a lady from a small southern province that has sided with Midoriya.

Momo sits next to Lady Uraraka, who chats happily about the future.

Momo tries to listen but can’t. She can barely eat. Her stomach keeps twisting as she unconsciously glances around the room.

Uraraka reaches over and squeezes her arm. “It’s okay. He’s fine. You don’t need to worry. Todoroki’s strong.”

Momo wants to ask who Todoroki is, but then the towering doors at the other end of the hall open and Momo’s heartbeat jumps as a man with red and white hair strides in.

He’s different from her memories. The black robe is gone, replaced with a blue uniform but it’s him - her dark companion.

She wants to be shocked to see him or at least surprised but she isn’t. She realizes she’s known for a while — perhaps for months now — that he is a fighter in All Might’s illegitimate son’s army. She just has never acknowledged it.

His heterochromatic eyes scan the room and Momo’s breath catches in her throat as he glances towards her. It’s slight but something in his shoulders seems to visibly relax as their eyes meet. Then he looks away as he moves closer.

“Lord Todoroki!” Midoriya says, his smile widening as he stands.

The man on Midoriya’s other side growls. “What the fuck are you doing here half and half? What about the north?” — Captain Bakugou, Uraraka whispers to her — “You didn’t just run with your tail between your legs did you?”

Todoroki stops at the edge of the table. Up close she can see his blue uniform is haggard. He still has the curse mark over his left eye, but now Momo also notes he has a new burn wound on his right cheek. She clasps her hands together on her lap to stop her fingers from twitching.

“It's secured,” Her dark companion — Todoroki says. His usual husky voice has a slight raspiness to it that makes Momo’s chest ache. No one else seems to notice as the hall erupts in cheers and loud banging of cutlery. “I defeated my brother. I came to report and...”  He trails off and Momo thinks she is imagining it as his eyes flicker towards her.

Midoriya's eyes shine and he nods. “Of course, there will be plenty of time to talk after dinner. Join us.”

XXXXXX

The moon is high in the sky when dinner ends and yet the dining room is still packed. Momo tucks behind a column as the men and women of Midoriya’s army clear the tables to make space for dancing.

Across the room Uraraka sings drunkenly with a group of men and women. Momo smiles faintly. Then turns and leans back against the pillar, closing her eyes.

She breathes deeply. Her fingers twitch. It’s been a long time since she has experienced an event like this.

“Yaoyorozu.”

Momo eyes snap open and she looks up. “Lord Todoroki,” she says, straightening. Her cheeks warm. It’s strange referring to him as anything but as her dark companion. “I was just taking a moment.”

She wants to touch the creation stone that now hangs on a pendant beneath her dress but forces herself not to.

“I see.” His expression betrays nothing as he moves closer. He stops in front of her and his eyes roam over her face before narrowing. “Your neck…” He reaches out slowly as if to touch her.

Momo feels her face warm and her hand instinctively reaches up to her throat and the shallow cut running across her jugular. “It’s nothing,” she says quickly. “Lady Uraraka saved me before anything could happen.”

Todoroki drops his hand and inhales slowly.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he finally says. His voice is rough, as if the words are hard to say. Perhaps they are. Her gaze lingers over his face, noting the scars and burns along his skin. The frayed edges of his uniform.

The battle up North must have been difficult.

Her heart clenches as Momo mets his eyes. “I’m glad you’re alright as well.” She swallows and gives him a small smile. “And congratulations on your victory. I expect you won’t want to wait for your coronation.”

His expression hardens. “No,” he rasps.

Momo blinks. “No?”

“I’m not going to be king.”

“You’re not going to be king?” Momo repeats slowly. Her heartbeat quickens.

Todoroki straightens as he looks back at her. His eyes shine in the candlelight. “No. I’m not.”

“But why?” Her eyebrows furrow. “Men kill for the crown. My cousin killed for it.” She reaches up and curls her hand over her chest, she can feel the creation stone underneath the rich fabrics but it doesn’t provide her the strength she is used to. “You were next in line.”

He breathes deeply. “I know.”

“I don’t understand.” There’s a sinking sensation in her stomach.

He swallows visibly and looks away. “I’m tired of all the fighting.” His hands fist at his side. “I want to live quietly; I will still serve but, the duty, the responsibility, the politics of the crown - I don’t want it. The crown should go to the one most qualified. I think a piece of me even resents it.” he says. There is a tightness in his jaw

Oh.

Her mouth closes. The sentiment stings with familiarity. It’s a thought she herself has had but never put into words. She wets her lips. “Then...who?” she forces out.

“Midoriya.”

Momo inhales slowly through her nose. “I see.” There is a lump in her throat that makes it hard to breathe. She folds her hands together in front of her. “He seems kind and clever enough.”

Todoroki nods and looks back at her. “He’ll make a good king.” His voice is filled with conviction.

He truly believes it.

She swallows thickly. “So you’ll leave again after the coronation?”

Todoroki’s expression flickers and he almost looks regretful. “Before.” He slides his hands into his uniform pockets. “The north has always been harder to control. Midoriya needs someone he can trust up there, and Bakugo’s personality isn’t the right fit. Our summoner, Majestic, is bringing me back tomorrow.”

A bitter taste fills her mouth, but Momo ignores it.  “Is that how you were always able to visit the library? Your summoner transported you across the country?”

Todoroki nods. “Yeah, as long as you've been to a place before Majestic's magic can teleport you there and back again. That’s how I was able to get here tonight.”

She drops her eyes to stare at the stones under her feet. “I see.”

A lute starts up.

“Yaoyorozu.” She looks up and meets Todoroki’s eyes. He’s staring at her intently now. “Thank you.”

Momo gives him a small smile. “I didn't do anything to be thanked for. You’re the hero of the North.”

“That’s not true.” His voice is firm and he steps forward. He pulls his hand from his pocket and hesitates for a moment, before reaching up and pushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. Momo’s breath hitches as his fingers skim against her cheek.

“You saved me. You created complex magic to break my curse. Gave me the phoenix tear. You helped devise battle tactics that saved countless men and women. And you used yourself as a shield to protect Uraraka. You can’t say you didn’t do anything. Out of all of us you’re the hero.”

Momo gasps and her breath hitches in her chest. She presses the back of her hand to her mouth and looks away.

He is standing close. As close as he had the night she had requested for him to kiss her. Momo keeps thinking he will move away, but he doesn’t. After a moment, she feels something brush against the back of her hand and she looks down as his fingers slide against hers. “What will you do now?”

Her chest aches. Momo opens her mouth and then closes it. “I don’t know,” she finally says. Her voice wavers. “I’ve been here for so long, this is all I know.”

He regards her silently for a moment then looks away and clears his throat. “Perhaps, you can visit the North someday. I—”

“Lord Todoroki.” Momo jumps back and turns as Midoriya pokes his head around the column. “We’re going to meet now.”

Todoroki’s expression betrays nothing. He nods. “I’ll be right there.”

Midoriya glances at her and gives Momo a tentative smile, before disappearing back behind the column.

Momo’s chest tightens as she drags her gaze back to Todoroki. She presses her lips into a thin line. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

Todoroki’s expression flickers. He reaches out and his fingers skim down her arm to catch her fingers and he brings Momo’s hand up to press a kiss to the back of her skin. Momo’s heart stutters. He straightens and his expression is serious as he meets her eyes.

“You're free now, princess. You can do whatever you want,” he says, letting go of her hand.

XXXXXX

“Lady Yaoyorozu?”

Momo blinks in surprise and turns from the window to see Midoriya at the edge of the library staircase. “May I join you?”

She drops her hands from where they twist in her necklace and curtsies. “Of course, my king.”

He blushes and his hands fidget. “Not quite yet, but I guess that means you’ve heard that Lord Todoroki is stepping down from the line of succession?” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck.

Momo’s expression hardens and she looks out the window at the men gathering below. “Yes. Lord Todoroki told me last night.”

“I see,” Midoriya says.

Runes are drawn in the dirt. Portals to bring them back north.

“Do you have anything in mind what you’ll do now?”

Momo looks back at him. “Aren’t we to be married?”

“What?!” Midoriya’s voice cracks.

Momo stills. “Was that not why you requested to join me?” Her mouth is dry.

Midoriya’s face turns red and he sputters. “I don't - That’s not - We aren’t getting married. That’s not what I was coming out here to talk to you about."

“Then,” Momo’s eyebrows furrow, confused. “What may I assist with?”

Midoriya smiles shakily. The redness starts to fade from his cheeks. “I was wondering if you have any plans now for your future? And I don’t mean getting married to me!” he adds quickly.

Momo’s lips thin, and she shakes her head. “No.” She reaches up and rubs her opposite arm. “I don’t have any family left or a place to call home. I thought - but if we aren’t...” she trails off.

Midoriya smiles sympathetically. “Well, we could use your expertise here if you are willing.”

Momo blinks. “Lord Midoriya?”

He stares at her, his forest green eyes serious. “Your operations and strategies led us to victory countless times, and Todoroki told me you were the one who discovered how to break his curse. We could really use your help as an advisor to the crown. I mean – only if you want to.”

Momo is silent for a moment. Unconsciously, her fingers reach up and touch the creation stone hanging from the pendant around her neck. “Thank you but I - I don’t think I want to stay here. The palace – this place has been my prison since my parents died. I don’t know where I’ll go but,” she hesitates and swallows. Todoroki’s words from the night before echo through her and settle in her chest. Momo inhales a shaky breath. “I’ve come to resent my position in life,” she says softly.

Midoriya’s green eyes soften.  "I understand.” He looks back down at the men below the library window. “But you don’t have to be here to advise the crown,” he says after a moment.

“My lord?” Momo tilts her head.

Midoriya smiles wistfully. “The road to reconciliation is going to be long and we could really use your assistance. The country is big. You don’t have to stay here. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?"

Momo’s throat feels tight. Outside, sunlight reflects off of red and white hair as Todoroki walks amongst the men, preparing for their departure.

Her fingers tighten around the creation stone.

Her heartbeat quickens as a foreign feeling fills her chest. “If – If I may, I think I know where I’d like to go.”

XXXXXX

“Lord Todoroki, wait!” Momo calls as she hikes up her dress and hurries through the crowd of men gathering in the yard.

The sun shines down brightly from a cloudless sky.

Todoroki looks up. "Yaoyorozu!” He steps forward as she stops in front of him. “I was looking for you,” he says, his gray and blue eyes study her face. “I wanted to see you once more before I leave."

Momo shakes her head and smiles. “I’m going with you.”

“What?” Todoroki blinks, owlishly.

“I’m – King Midoriya has asked me to be an advisor to the crown and gave his permission for me to assist with the northern reconciliation” She raises her head and juts out her chin. “I’m going with you.”

Todoroki opens his mouth and then closes it and his lips thin. “Are you sure? The north is harsh and they keep to the traditional ways. There are easier lands to help reconcile.”

“I know.” Momo hesitates.

Does he not want her to join him?

She licks her lips and summons her courage to meet his gaze. “But you’ll be there,” she whispers.

Todoroki’s eyes widen a fraction, then his expression softens and it’s like ice melting in the summer sun as he smiles. "I see.” His eyes are silver and turquoise as he stares down at her, and for the first time it feels like she is seeing the real him. “I look forward to working with you then."

Momo’s heart clenches. An unknown feeling rises in her chest. “As do I.”

The world fades away around them.

He stares at her for a moment longer, then straightens. “Go get a few items that you’ll need. We can come back for the rest later, once we’ve settled in.”

Momo shakes her head. “I don’t need anything. I can go now.”

Todoroki tilts his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Her smile widens, and she reaches up to touch the creation stone around her neck. “I have everything I need.”

His expression flickers down, and then a faint smile pulls at his lips. “I see.” He holds out his hand. His turquoise and gray eyes shine in the sunlight. “Let’s go then. Don’t let go of me.”

Momo slides her hand into his, her fingers slotting between his. Her heartbeat quickens. His palm is warm, and he holds her hand as tenderly as she had once only imagined in her most forbidden dreams.

In the distance, bells ring signaling noon.

Todoroki squeezes her hand once, and they step into the center of the circle.

The ruins carved into the dirt begin to glow a fluorescent blue.

Magic crackles around them and for the first time it feels like the future she chose for herself.

[dailybeastarsthings]

Chapter 3 – The Moon Shines Bright on Sinners

The night was quiet. The only thing breaking the silence was the rippling of water in the nearby fountain. The silver rays of the moon were dancing on the tiny drops as the water was dancing vividly.

Legoshi was walking back and forth near the entrance of the school’s gymnasium. His steps quietly echoed in the darkness. He was appointed to stand guard in case anyone was about to spot them. The situation made him stressed, he just wanted to leave and go back to his dorm room to rest.

“Hurry up already!” he thought.

All of a sudden, he heard a quiet rustle near him. He looked around, but the only thing he saw was the fountain waving back at him from the silver light. Legoshi listened carefully and heard the noise once again. It was coming from even closer. It almost seemed like it was coming from right next to him. He looked down and saw a tiny little bug. It was a cricket. Legoshi was relieved. He squatted down and put his hand down to pick up the small creature.

“Oh it’s just you” he said. “What are you doing here? What about me?” he asked as the cricket climbed onto his palm. “What am I doing here?”

Legoshi looked up at the moon and lost himself in his thoughts.

***

Zoe entered the office. He looked worried to be in one room with the Club Leader and a giant grey wolf. He made worried looks in both directions as he was trying to find out who to trust more, if he could. Legoshi was no different. He was stressed because of Louis’ request.

“Why do you look so glum?” Louis asked. “I’m personally giving you a request. You should be happy.”

“And… umm… What’s the request?” Legoshi asked.

“Now-now. You need to hear me out first” Louis replied. “First off, Zoe, congratulations on becoming Tem’s substitute.”

“T-Thank you so much for the opportunity. I-I promise to do my best!” Zoe replied, visibly nervous.

“Tomorrow’s rehearsal will be in the gymnasium. You better be prepared.”

“Yes, of course, Louis.”

Legoshi zoned out and lost himself in his thoughts.

“This red dear has a sensibility for the right acting, the right tone and the right posture down to the finest detail. Naturally, he makes use of that skill to unleash his acting talent to its greatest potential… Whenever he enters the stage, the atmosphere of the auditorium changes completely. The audience. The stage hands. We all find ourselves captivated by his performance as Adler, the Grim Reaper. It’s as if Adler himself is bounding us all by a spell. Louis is the top performer in the Drama Club and the most popular animal in Cherryton Academy. I wonder though, how hard it must be to have to take care of those scary antlers every day…”

“It was a twist of fate to see you here, Odie the water spirit” Louis said, breaking the silence. Legoshi finally came back to reality.

“Huh?” Zoe was surprised and stressed. What was he supposed to do he wondered.

“We’re rehearsing, give me Odie’s line” Louis replied.

Zoe was visibly confused. He didn’t know what to say or how to act. His face became red and sweaty.

“Zoe was given the role just yesterday and he is just a middle schooler. I can’t imagine him memorizing all those long lines in one night” Legoshi thought.

“I’m sorry, I still haven’t memorized my lines” Zoe said, almost crying.

Louis stood up from his chair. He walked to Zoe with a perfectly calm expression on his face. Not a flinch or a tense muscle. No raised eyebrows either, just calmness. As he reached Zoe, he quickly grabbed his face with one hand and pushed his cheeks hard.

“Louis, what are you…” Zoe was shocked by Louis’ behavior.

“What’s wrong, Zoe? Open your mouth. Did you eat the script? I know goats can eat paper but I don’t want you using that ability of yours around here.”

“Stop it, I wouldn’t eat it” Zoe replied desperately. “I’ll be sure to memorize the lines by tomorrow’s rehearsal."

“No! I know how lazy goats are, so save your breath. Come with me!”

“Where?” Zoe asked.

“To the gymnasium” Louis replied. “We’re going to sneak in and have private rehearsal similar to tomorrow’s.”

Legoshi was shocked by Louis’ intentions. He knew they would be breaking several of the school’s rules.

“Wait, you can’t do that!” he said “Trespassing the school after closing hours is against the rules! What if you get caught or…?”

“Don’t you get it?” Louis asked. “That’s where you come in. You’re going to stand guard outside the gym.”

Legoshi looked at Louis with a disappointed look. His hears drooped.

“Are you perhaps going to be a hero and refuse my request, Legoshi?” Louis asked with the softest smile on his face. “That’s a shame… I’m sure if I offered you one of my legs in return, you’d happily accept it with a drooling mouth” Louis said as he pulled Legoshi closer to his face by his tie.

Legoshi couldn’t figure out how to behave at the gesture. Louis finally let go of his tie.

“Alright, let’s go. The gym’s at the back gate. You’re going to cooperate for the sake of the Drama Club though. I won’t give you my leg” Louis said as he exited the office with Zoe and closed the door.

“Not that I would need it or want it…” Legoshi thought as he, too, reached for the doorknob and left the room.

The three boys were quietly walking through the school building, then the school yard. No one in sight, all the dorms were lit up by the several lights, emitting their amber light through the windows. Students had already returned to their rooms after dinner.

“Thank you for going through all this trouble for me” Zoe said breaking the silence.

Louis stopped and turned around.

“What are you talking about? I’m doing this so you don’t make tomorrow’s rehearsal awkward for everyone else. You’d better get it through your head that I’m not doing this for you. We’re going to rehearse tonight so you don’t embarrass me tomorrow.”

They finally reached the gym and opened the door. As Zoe and Louis were entering, Louis turned around and looked at Legoshi.

“Stay right here. If you hear anything or anyone, come in and tell me immediately!”

***

It was getting late; a thin layer of mist fell onto the ground, covering everything around. Legoshi was still worried about the situation.

“They’re probably working their hardest right now…” he thought. “Even the lights aren’t turned on. If they find us like this, will the Drama Club be abolished? And will I be suspended?”

He looked at the figures of the fountain across. The water was flowing gently out of the vases they held.

“I envy you guys. Pouring water without a worry in the world” he said, sighing.

“Well, I can’t imagine anyone else being here so late with that incident and all…” he thought as he was taking a deep breath.

But there was a scent mixed in that breath, different from the water… or the flowers… or the milk white mist… There was someone else there with Legoshi.

“There’s an herbivore” he thought while he gazed around trying to figure out its location.

“It’s close by… Just one… Wait!” Legoshi squatted down, rubbing his eyes and temples. “I need to concentrate on my task and block any unneeded information.”

But his determination was in vain. He couldn’t help himself anymore. The thought of a nearby herbivore was so captivating and tempting…

“Let’s see… Small body… Herbivore… Their distance from me is about 10 meters…”

Legoshi looked up and saw a shadow near the fountain. It was not moving. It seemed like the shadow was trying to pierce through the mist, looking at him. Legoshi quickly hid behind one of the columns of the gym’s entrance.

“Not good… I can’t see them well from all the fog but maybe… It noticed me?”

Legoshi looked out from behind the column. The figure looked back at him. It felt like a staring contest between them. None of them was moving, just waiting in silence for the other’s next move.

“Wait… If I chase you, will you run away? If I make the first move…”

Legoshi didn’t even finish his thought. His eyes turned bloodshot and he positioned himself to lash out towards the shadow. As he was moving slowly, his claws made a tiny rustle on the floor. The shadow seemed to hear the sound and started running away, fast. Legoshi didn’t hesitate and in two seconds, he grabbed the small herbivore from behind. He caught it.

All this took no more than two seconds, yet it seemed like an instant. In those two seconds Legoshi made sudden contact with two things. One: a small rabbit. And two: his feral instincts.

Thank you for reading! Chapter 4.1. will be uploaded next Friday! :)

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 013

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

Hey all!! Evie attends a party to get back into the swing of being a messy teen and the night doesn't go as expected. Billy opens up about his past in California with a story Evie finds all too familiar. TW: Slight sexual refs, teens drinking/smoking, talk of past s*icide/death, and addiction. TAG LIST OPEN. Always open to chatting about the fic, thanks!!

Chapter 13: Almost Paradise

   “Are you sure about this?” Heather spoke over Evie’s shoulder.

   “We always hit the mid-winter break parties. Why wouldn’t we, Heath?” Evie applied her favorite shade of cherry in the mirror. Makeup still only covered so much that next night. But, with the swelling down, she hoped it wasn't that bad.

   “Figured you’d be hanging with Billy.”

   “We haven’t done anything...much. His dad is grinding him to stay in. He'll...also be at the party I'm sure.”

   "That why you put on the new bra?"

   "It's not new..." Evie fixed her sleeve to hide the black strap. Blushed a whole garden of strawberries. "Like I said...haven't done anything."

   “Haven’t had the chance, hm.” Heather plopped down and stole some mirror space. Relenting as she applied a lustrous pink shade to her lips that matched the scrunchie holding her curls high. “I know you’re hopelessly into him. All the eye fucking over the movie last night. If you hadn’t have passed out on the couch-”

   “Would...you be mad?” Evie looked up.

   “I’m just coming around to him again. If you trust him, I will.” Heather smiled. “I just have to be the bitchy best friend. Make him sweat it out for my own enjoyment. Cute how he tucked you in last night through, looked like he might not leave you.”

   Evie lowered a brush doused in gold glitter from her eye.

   “I am sorry...about the whole-”

   “You don’t have to be sorry about him, Bowers is the one that should be sorry.” Heather frowned. “I’m not mad you didn’t tell me. Honest. I get it. I can’t imagine what I would have done.”

   “You wouldn’t be in that situation because you’re smarter than me.”

   “No, I’ve made poor boy choices too. We both know that.” Heather beamed. “Can I borrow your earrings? The little cherries you made.”

   “Sure, keep them. You get more mileage out of them than I do. I can make more.”

   Heather squealed and went to steal them. Evie thought it funny, her friend would rather wear her craft projects than the baby diamonds in silver and gold her parents were always buying.

   “Hey, I… My mom’s been lying to me. About my dad.” Evie admitted. “He’s trying to call and give her money, I think. I don’t know if he asks about me. Where he is. I’m just… I don’t know what to do with it all, Heath.” Her voice broke and leveled out. Slowly the brush came up again. “You ever feel like you remember things differently? Like maybe we never see things as they are, we just see things as we are?”

   Heather turned to see, still putting the earrings in.

   “I’m sure Mona’s trying to protect you. She’s always been so much.” She pressed her lips and tilted Evie’s face to check her work as she always did. “Covered it nicely. How’s your head?”

   “No pounding anymore. Not getting dizzy, I think I barely avoided a concussion.” A beat. “I just wonder what exactly she’s protecting me from. It’s eating me.”

   Felt like too appropriate an expression.

   “We’ll figure it out, but you put way too much pressure on yourself like you’re alone, Eves, and you’re not.” Heather pulled Evie in to hug her. “You have me and Steve. Friends at school.”

   Blue hopped up on the desk to meow loudly, both girls broke to giggle. 

   “Yes, you too, cutie.” Heather scratched the kitten’s chin. “And Billy, I guess. Whatever.”

   “Yeah, I don’t know what we’re doing. But, I don’t mind it so I guess I’ll chase that.” Evie thumbed Heather’s lipstick at the corner. “You’re set.”

   “You, too. Let’s head out.” Heather winked and stood up.

   Blue trailed after them so Evie filled her dish. Grabbed a prized jacket she used to be too afraid to wear for how loud it was. Red leather and fringe. Bitchin'. A signature piece of clothing. Undoubtedly Evangeline. Fredrick didn't like it so it was packed away with all her sharp edges.

   Heather beamed as her friend donned it. Completed Evie's look with a black skirt and graphic shirt tucked in. Vaguely mesh pattern tights and her warm boots. Gold hoops gleaming and her little music note necklace. Plucked piece of juicy fruit and a hard pit for good measure. Curls bounced, almost obscene.

   “Think Brock and his shitheads will crash?” Heather waited for the door to be locked before they got into her car.

   “I’m not worried about Brock after what happened with Fredrick.” Evie stared at the empty place in the Hargrove driveway where Billy’s Camaro usually sat. No doubt he was already there raging. Evie got annoyed with the flame in her stomach that flickered at the thought of running into him there with all the dancing they’d been doing. Every little maybe and almost. Syllables rolling off tongues to tangle.

   Loch Nora rangers were undoubtedly the best.

   Evie still liked parties. Liked the stimulation. The noise. That beautiful overlapping noise to wash her world out. The drunk idiot teens wandering to dance or do dumb shit. All technicolor. Even liked them better than what Fredrick would take her too. Annoying how Fredrick had become this constant life point of comparison. Physically out and still here to set the scales.

   Time for some liquor.

   She peered around and realized Steve never came to them anymore. Heather even asked him and he just declines too politely. Three drinks sank into her stomach so Evie went out back to where some meathead with no shirt was pouring. Moved through sprightly bodies to get another cup. Smoke and sweat in the cool night air. 

   “Fenny, you hear Tannen got a DUI?” Nameless meathead poured.

   “No, shit?” She took her plastic cup back. Black and gold glitter nails clicking the artificial red. 

   “Swear to god! His dad’s basically paying everyone to make it disappear.” The guy chuckled. “Lucky, the idiot didn’t crash into anyone.”

   “Yeah, he’s a mess.” Evie tipped her cup in thanks and watched teens bop around the covered pool to booming music. Rich house on a hill, no one was calling the cops. Cold and slush weren't stopping the festivities, it only made them turn up the noise and heat. Her outfit combated the lingering winter well enough. Perks of being a bigger gal. Thick skin to combat the weather and assholes. “Thanks.”

   “Plenty more to go around.” 

   Evie caught a bunch of metalheads thrashing around a huge trampoline. Jumping from the lowest part of the roof to it and climbing all over. Billy among them spitting beer and cackling. A hungry wolf against the bright moon. Readied to toss his head back and-

   “Evangeline!” He howled and she rolled her eyes below, drinking. Cup lifted to acknowledge them. Billy flashed his teeth, glowed there at her. Still among his following.

   "You clean up well, Fenny!" One boy cooed so Billy shoved him into one of the many seat cushions that had been stolen to line the perch.

   "Why not join us? Stay awhile." Billy crouched at the edge. Admired Evie glittering and that outfit. Tassels constantly in motion, she looked like a song leaping off unworthy pages. They echoed the calls and she laughed outright, went back inside to a chorus of whines wanting her to stay and indulge them in their debauchery.

   “They out of the hard stuff already?” Heather approached and offered a tiny joint to Evie that she caved and puffed. “Tammy’s asking. I’m switching to water.”

   “Beer only it looks like. It’s raining boys out there though.”

   “Oh, maybe I’ll catch myself one.” Heather winked and wandered outside with the smoke.

   Evie got squished in between her and Tammy moments later. Talking school and beauty and graduation getting closer. Across the way, Billy had a whole room entertained with his California stories. Evie lingered to see his eyes flicker over to her.

   The strange radar he had when she was around. Always on high. He smiled bright and animated his tale, kept them all hooked and laughing because he was just too badass. Too good. A firework in this boring town. Perched on the table with a smoke in hand.

   Spinning tales around the way he spun her under confetti.

   And they kept peering at each other. Billy got more persistent as Evie made it a point not to look. To stay reeled into Tammy gushing about the car she was almost saved up for. This baby pink bug she dreamed about. Robin joined them and Tammy blushed as they shared a freshly rolled joint. Heather and Evie shared knowing looks.

   Billy decided he wanted attention from Evangeline and left the stories behind to cross toward her. Evie felt sparks when he plucked up her hand, nodding aside. One tug and smoldering eyes. She didn't move and played a pout.

   “I’m having an important discussion with the girls about the principal's clearly fake mustache, Hargrove.” She lifted her eyes, biting her lip as if that might curve her intoxication. Curled a smirk he matched.

  "Thrilling. Something tells me it ain't getting mileage." Billy didn’t take his eyes from Evie. “Ladies?”

   “We just finished actually, Evie was about to get herself another drink. You look like just the soul brave enough to help with that.” Tammy, oblivious but a wingman to the end, cut in so Billy pulled Evie up.

   Heather flashed a guilty smile as they went off because Evie was aimlessly bickering. They didn’t go out back for a drink. Billy climbed the steps with her hand. Slowly Evie adjusted to lace their fingers. They moved over bodies and went down the hallways into a vacant TV room with beaten couches and thick screens.

   “What are you doing?” Evie dropped her arms as Billy bit his tongue with intent eyes and crossed into her space for a kiss. Tasting of some green apple schnapps the boys outside had downed with all the hard stuff.  

   “Just something I thought about for a while.” He cupped her face for another and Evie felt dizzy for the first time after her drinks. Billy and his lips. Tasting her. Pulling her back into a couch with him.

   “You mean like a day?” Evie had giggled. Breaking the kiss to see his pupils spread.

   “Hey, it was a long, long day.” Came a shrug, eyes on her pretty tights that were sending him. “I can only say so much over the phone.” Hands worked under the skirt. Melted Evie down while she came in for more of him. 

   Straddling Billy’s hard thigh, she combed his hair back and ravished him in turn. What could she say? She liked to kiss him. Liked his mouth and his palms and his heat against her. Scorching. Billy adjusted, taking her hips to press his leg up into her.

   Evie rocked unconsciously. Gave him a little moan. Let him untuck her shirt. She came out and felt his hand on her bra. Fingers sunk under the fabric while they locked eyes. Rolled her nipple until another moan lulled. Evie still pulling at his hair, lips opening.

   “No bad kisses yet, hm?” The hum hitched as Evie pressed into him. Kissed him deeper. Not worried she might squish him with the shameless, signature way he touched her. 

   “Let’s try a few more.” Evie about whimpered into his tongue. Brow furrowing. Breath quicker. Something ready to churn in her belly.

   Billy gripped her hips to encourage her on. Shifted down the line of her jaw. Silken mouth trailing to release warm sighs. Evie had her hands pressed against his grey tee. Skimming under the leather jacket to feel the hard lines. Miles of him to trace and explore. Shifting, one hand came to his left shoulder. Finger pressed and Billy gave a jerk, breath catching as he pulled back to hiss.

   Evie narrowed and yanked away the moment he looked in pain. Avoiding her eyes as if he wasn’t just trying to turn them over and finish this.

   “Are you okay?”

   “Fine.” Billy leaned back in for a kiss she barely responded to. Thoughts racing. “It’s nothing.” He cupped the back of her head. Lips all over Evie’s neck. Fingers slipped to push his jacket aside and Billy grasped her wrist. “Evie, it’s nothing.”

   “You’re hurt.” She frowned. Billy gripped her arm still, searching. He opened his mouth to speak and the door burst open, giggles sounding at the same time Evie threw herself out of Billy’s lap. Practically to the other side of the couch. Shamefully tucking her shirt back in.

   “Oooh, this one’s taken,” Tommy backed up and processed who was in there again with Carol under his arm, “Billy and Fenny? No fucking way, you two. Ha!” He cackled and Billy gave an agitated breath.

   “We’re busy, shut the door, man.”

   “No shit, you’re busy. I’m shocked. I thought Fen wasn’t speaking to you ever again after-”

   “Hagen, we’re talking.” Evie slid her eyes to Carol who’d gotten dead silent. Eyes bright and full of hate. Piles and piles. A tremendous build of fire and loathing directed at Evie for existing in the same space.

   “Talk away. Have fun, kids!” Tommy only found it funny. Jeering in his annoying way before Carol shoved off him and stomped out. “Hey Carol, what’s your problem?” He smacked the door shut following his upset girlfriend down the hall.

   “Shit, asshole.” Billy rubbed his shoulder. “Where were we?” The purr made Evie turn her head, thoughts elsewhere. Billy crawled to kiss her again and Evie stood. “Hey, where’re you going?”

   “I just, I feel weird now.” Evie stumbled around the coffee table. Cheeks bright and rosy. Not sparing him a glance because Carol’s eyes gnawed her. Created an incessant buzzing around her brain. Billy jolted to follow but she was out the door. Looking around for Carol and Tommy’s loudmouth. Boots hurried down the steps after Tommy, still trying to coax his girl back to the festivities.

   “Carol, hey,” Evie pushed beyond Tommy once Carol was out a sliding door, “Hey, can we just talk?”

   “You are such a fucking loser, you know that?” Carol spun on her heel to direct some teenage rage in Evie’s direction. A few outside by the kegs noticed the tiff, pausing to see. 

   A crack.

   “Why do you hate me so much?” Evie dropped her shoulders. Billy slipped out and stepped up behind Tommy, pausing at the standoff. Carol staggered. Clearly intoxicated. Cracking a huge, watery smile. Reckless. She stepped toward Evie so a burst came. “Why! I'm not mean to you! I've never been mean to you! I only talk back and I still feel guilty, but you're so... Why?”

   "You're nice to me?" She made it sound unreal and laughable.

   "Yeah, actually! I don't understand it, I've tried to be kind to you." Evie felt a tear slip down and stayed level. "No one deserves to be treated the way I see you treat others. So, why?"

   “Because!” Carol shot back, welling too. “You’re so fucking kind and...playing innocent...and you're good! And I..." She stopped with another deafening crack. So loud, it rang. Carol really stopped to reflect and hated what she saw looking back at her. But, Evie was here looking too so the hate rerouted.

   "Good?" Evie breathed and so much ugly spread in her veins like a disease.

   "And...And you get all this attention! Acting like you don’t know! And just look at you! Do you really think you’d get that attention if these boys didn’t feel sorry for you?” Carol stumbled and pointed a finger in Evie’s face, furious and shaking. Too close.

   Evie got silent. Dropped everything she felt.

   “You’re the one I feel sorry for.”

   Carol buzzed with rage and reeled back to slap her so hard, the force sent her into Tommy.

   "Girl fight!" Came some yelps.

   “What the hell, Carol?” He caught Evie on pure instinct, not understanding either. Billy charged forward and Carol kept pushing as Evie found her footing.

   A chorus of shocked gasps and awe came from the drunk teens near the pool. The music blared.

   “Hit me back, you bitch! Yeah? Do it like you did to Tannen. Think you’re any better than me!” Carol was near sobbing. Eyes crinkling with tears as she shoved before Tommy got in front of her. Looped an arm around her waist.

   “That’s enough, Care, c’mon.” He and Billy separated the girls, but Evie wasn’t trying to hit back. Just stared with huge eyes and a palm against her hot cheek.

   "Hey. Hey, you okay?" Billy stood in front of her now, tugging. Evie wasn't budging. Enthralled. Stuck. Sinking. Not good. "Let's go. She's wasted."

   “Evie!” Heather was racing across the grass to help. “Carol, back off her.” She planted her feet between them and Carol sneered, struggling against her boyfriend.

   “Ooh, Princess Heather to the rescue. Admit it, you just like being the pretty friend.” More hissing channeled out.

   “Just, shut up!”

   “How about you tell Fenny why Tannen even tried to chase her skirts that night? Yeah?” Carol broke free and tackled Heather into the grass. "Tell her what a shit friend you are, baby!"

   “Another girl fight!” Teens howled across the way. Billy and Tommy shoved in to pull the clawing women apart as they rolled around and pulled at hair.

   Evie heard herself shouting to stop, barely audible over the crowds that closed in on them to cheer and chant.

   “Tell her, sweet pea? Tell her that her dear B-F-F set her up with some animal. I was at that party, I heard you, bitch!” Carol skidded as Tommy pulled her off. Billy had Heather by the arm, trying to yank her up from the grass. She began to sniffle. “Perfect Heather. Little priss who can do no wrong. Perfect body. Perfect life. The teen dream. Tossing bones to us lowly folk when you're done.” 

   Carol laughed and cried all at once. Even the crowd slowed to watch her. Evie felt a coldness spread at the display.

   “Oh yeah, Heather, you’re a real carpenter’s dream!” Carol mocked relentlessly. “Flat as a board and needs a screw! Go on and tell Fenny what a great friend you are. You brushed Tannen aside and pawned that puppy off on someone easier.”

   “I didn’t know he was like that yet, okay! It was stupid.” Heather admitted, tears falling. Evie froze at that, didn’t move toward her.

   “Heath, what’s she talking about?” Evie hated how wounded she sounded.

   “I just thought maybe he’d cheer you up, we all were drinking and, Tannen, he...he was nice at the time. So I thought. I just...you know-”

   “Just, what?” Evie leveled out. Billy let Heather go once he brought her up from the grass so she came to Evie. Crowds all but hushed.

   “Can...Can we not talk about it here?” Heather tucked her hair aside, sounding too small.

   “No, I love an audience! Talk.” Evie’s spine went rigid.

   “I just...nudged Tannen your way. You just broke up with that guy over the summer and your dad left. Tannen was, I don’t know, it was stupid. He was nice and...and good looking. I thought he’d make you feel better. I didn’t know he was like that yet. I just was trying to hook my friend up.”

   "Please, you alluded to owing him a favor after. He ate that up. You talked up a desperate animal in need of a hot beef injection. You said Fenny could barely thread a needle these days." Carol bellowed. More shock. More awe.

   "I was super drunk!" Heather covered her eyes to rub them

   “So, you told him to try fucking me! Told him I was desperate for it!” Evie’s voice rose and Heather quelled with shame.

   “You were so sad...I thought he’d give you a good night.” The tone trailed off.

   “I’m fat, but I can get laid on my own, thanks. I don’t need your fucking help, how little do you think of me?” Evie’s curls shook around with the same fervor. Heather just held herself and stared at the grass. “Do I really seem that pathetic to you?”

   “No, it’s not that at all-”

   “It feels like that,” Evie stepped back, “keep me around because I make you look like the Queen Bee and toss some asshole with a reputation my way out of pity if I cease to function.”

   “Evie, it’s not like that!” Heather wept and got her hand shoved off when she tried to touch her friend. Evie wiggled through the crowd because it split for her fury.

   “Get off me,” she went around the house, “get away from me, Heather! I don't need you!"

   Heather stopped on the lawn and just stood there to see Evie follow the street lamps off.

   Carol watched them go, sagging into Tommy who was definitely too drunk for this.

   “Jesus, what’d you do?” He pulled her in another direction. Back to the house. Away from the excitement resuming. “Shouldn’t start that shit.” They got back inside so he led his girlfriend into an empty bathroom. “You okay?”

   “I am now. Bitches. I just...I can’t fucking…” Carol sniffled and cleared her throat. "I don't know why I hate her, okay, I just do! She just gets...everything."

   “This is about your mom getting back with that asshole.”

   “It’s not about that!” Her defense went up. “I’m just tired of Fenny acting like she can get everything she wants. Throwing herself at Billy, fuck. Wondered why he all but dropped everyone else. I thought he and Vicki had something. Gotta be kidding me.” Carol crossed her arms to lean back into the counter as Tommy washed his face with cold water, nauseous.

   “I don’t even think Fenny’s gonna go for him when she’s already got a thing with…” He perked. Lips sealing. Carol noticed.

   “Thing with who?”

   “Nothing, I just...I saw something...and I’m drunk. I’m fucking drunk, Care.” He got his shirt tugged.

   “Tommy.” She sucked her cheeks in and he knew he’d be caving. “What did you see?”

   “Evie’s been seeing Bowers, I saw her leaving his place all roughed up. Not the first time, I live a street away. Saw them in his driveway shouting at each other once. It was so dark. They kissed and she...well, her head dropped down for a bit. Thought I was having a nightmare there. I tried to forget it and just act like... I didn't believe it was her until I saw her on that bus. I'm drunk, fuck...” Tommy blurted in one breath. Carol’s lips opened.

   “No fucking way.”

   “Listen, I could be wrong-”

   “We can’t let them get away with that. I mean, he’s a teacher. What if he really hurt-”

   “You’re not doing it to save, Fenny, you’re doing it to make her life worse. Just...forget I said anything. I’m fucked up. Shit. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.” Tommy rubbed his eyes. Let them dart. Carol slid her gaze away and crossed her fingers behind her back.

   “Fine. Whatever you say, T. We'll forget it.” Another pull brought him in for a kiss. Tommy caressed her arms and felt Carol trying to make herself small. “Can I stay at your place tonight? I can’t go home to Jason on our couch again. I just...I can’t. I can't do it, Tommy.”

   She trembled so he tucked her under his chin.

   “You know you don’t have to ask, babe.”

*** ** ** 

   Evie was down the hill still stomping under barely lit streets. Teens ranging to music still in the distance. Forgetting her. Intent, she marched over frozen sidewalks covered in slush. The tip of her nose and ears grew chilled pink. Heather had shouted after but stopped the pursuit at the end of the lawn. Ruefully, Evie wouldn’t weep, she already cried enough this damn week.

   She just wanted to be better. Higher. Then all of it.

   The unmistakable rev of Billy’s Camaro rolled up behind her.

   “Evie, don’t make me come out to steal you. Just get in.” The window came down. “You can’t walk home in that skirt with the snow. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

   She paused to hear him. Eyes on the wind sweeping frosted shrubbery about across the perfectly trimmed lawns. Rich people. Cozy in their homes burning bags of money on nights like this.

   “Are you going to be all the same to me, Billy? Tell me right now, I swear to god. Pretty face trying to get its way with words that are just...empty. You gonna get mad if I don’t put out and try to grab at me like Tannen? Why are you bothering with me?” Evie sniffled, hands out and dropping as he watched her. Brow furrowed. “You saw them looking at us funny.”

   “Evie.” He reasoned. “Where am I right now? Am I back there shotgunning free liquor or am I freezing my balls off coming after you? Again.”

   “You’re here with me. But, how do I know this isn’t some weird game for you with a prize at the end. Kids like us, we don’t go together. Are you trying to win a prize so you can move to the next? Can’t blame me for thinking it.” She approached the car. Still guarding herself. “I can’t let that go.”

   “I like you, Evie, and I can tell you that a hundred times. But, it means nothing if you won’t let me.” Billy leaned over to click the door open. “You don’t let anyone like you.” He waited as she didn’t move, hands gripping the wheel before he sighed. “Didn’t notice the other kids, if you really care. I’m the Keg King.”

   A cold breath puffed out her nose, almost amused.

   “I was enjoying the view.” Billy drew those glittery blues to her expression.

   “What makes this a view?”

   “You.” A shrug pulled along with her heartstrings. “Get in, let’s go somewhere.”

   “Where?”

   “Anywhere you like. Just as we planned, remember?” Billy winked at her and Evie’s walls lowered. She looked back at the house party echoing and got in to buckle herself.

   “How much have you had to drink?”

   “Relax.” He sped off. “Barely anything and I even drank water. You proud?” He fiddled with the radio. “Wasn’t feeling it tonight.”

   “Looked like a party on the roof.”

   “Well, I still gotta impress the following.” Billy gestured to the glovebox. “Put a tape in, will you?”

   “You and your hair metal...and...oh?” Evie skimmed the selection while they whirled away from Loch Nora. “What is this? Fleetwood Mac. I’m so impressed.”

   “Ugh, that must be Max’s, she keeps leaving her tapes in my car. Throw it out.”

   “Wow. Apologize to Stevie.” Evie gasped and mocked. Cupped her hands over the sacred tape. “He didn’t mean that.” Billy peered over to crack a laugh at her jabbing. “Alright, alright. Can’t go wrong with a little Queen.” 

   “Fair enough.” Billy let her slip the tape in and mess with the volume so they could still hear each other. “You really mad at Heather?”

   Evie went flat.

   “Yes and I’ll stay mad at least until school starts back up.” She crossed her arms, relaxing as the heat picked up. Too good just as Carol said.

   “Where am I taking you?” Billy turned down another road, flying beyond the trees and Evie stared at his profile. Intent on the road for once. 

   “You opposed to a little more cold?”

   “I have blankets in back. Might have to get cozy.” He slid those eyes over and Evie sucked her cheeks in. 

   “Take a left up here. I know a secret spot.” 

** ** ** 

   “You didn’t say anything about hiking through a dark forest,” Billy whined with his arms full of blankets. "If Michael Myers reams my ass-"

   "Maybe I'm a Thing like the movie and I'm taking you somewhere to assimilate." Evie teased ahead of him.

   "I actually like the sound of that, Angel. Proceed. Assimilate with me all night long." Suggestive.

   She just laughed, loathing him.

   “It’s not far. I'll protect you, Billy. You hear the water and ice cracking? Chicken.” Evie flicked a flashlight they snagged from his car after parking in the thrush. “Just up there. C’mon. I promise it’s worth it.” She hurried up, leaving him behind to watch her silhouette in starlight

   “Someday, I’m gonna stop chasing this girl,” Billy uttered under his breath, hurrying to follow because that was the biggest lie he'd ever told himself. “The whole ‘no murder’ deal stands.”

   “Naturally.” Evie giggled and stepped over a log. “Here.”

   They walked along the train tracks going both directions. Came upon the cliffs where the bridge was laid out. Billy looked out at the frozen water yards below. At the moon and stars bathing the space in an ethereal glow. Frozen water framing the rocks. Looked like a castle full of magic.

   “Down here.” She went to the edge and climbed down under the steel and wood tracks. Into the space that was suspended over the great fall.

   “This is your spot?”

   “You'll see why.” Evie reached for his wrist so he didn’t trip. Snagged the blankets from him. “Prettier with all the icicles. Look.” Billy did. Admired the iridescent, dewy glimmer. “And now we wait.”

   “Wait?” He came to Evie, lighting a cigarette. “For what?”

   “You’ll see, I said.” She settled a blanket around her shoulders and gave him one. Playfully covering his shoulders.

   “Wait to freeze to death.” Billy had grumbled as Evie paced farther, stepping over boards and balancing on steel beams.

   He saw the moonlight stream through the tracks into her curls. Admired her when she peered back to press a genuine smile. His cigarette dropped. Cherry glowing all the way down. Air whistled.

   "Tell me more about yourself, Billy Hargrove." Evie cocked her head at a dewy spiderweb. "Favorite fruit? Favorite insect? Are you fonder of chocolates or-?"

   "You think I'm interesting." He decided.

   "I think you're here with me." Evie curled around a steel post to see him.

   "Tangerines," Billy replied after a beat, "and favorite bug? Do scarab beetles count? Just think they look cool as shit."

   "Naturally. Good choice, I suppose." She sized him up and tapped her chin when Billy gestured across the way. Neither moving. "Pineapple and luna moths."

   "Luna moths?"

   "Yeah," Evie hummed to herself and hid away behind the beam, "I always thought they looked like they were fluttering straight out of our dreams. Don't you?"

   Billy took one step. Really watched her shift in ethereal lights. Luminous and bathed utterly.

   "Evangeline." He mused as she teetered across a board and came to the edge. Eyes on the water far below. "Why a singer?"

   "Hm?" She faced away from him. Seemingly in a dream herself. Billy imagined moths glowing around her pretty hair. Fluttering to follow her into the dark. He wished she'd extend a hand to him so he could join. Follow her right into it.

   "Why do you want to be a singer?"

   "Always liked it. Growing up, I just felt right, I guess. The most like me. This girl I wanted to be and she's on a stage under too many lights. Singing her heart out to miles of crowds. Touching them all in a way. Connecting." Evie trailed her fingers over chains that hung down, clicked them together like wind chimes. Billy edged up after her. Not getting too close. Wondered about what was ticking in Evie's soul.

   "Nice to be heard when you put music out into the world," Billy observed and she seemed to like that. Curls bouncing softer with her voice. Evie unfurled for him there and she was breathtaking.

   “I wanna write music that lifts people so high, they’ll have to look down to see heaven." Evie gasped gently, heart-soaring while she came to the other edge on the opposite side. Almost leaning too far.

   "Yeah?" He felt her tug tender cords in his soul. Didn't take his eyes away.

   "I want to write something that makes others understand they’re not alone. Not small. You know? One great song before I...” Evie trailed off with a sober sort of melodic call beckoning and looked far below to the great fall that was one stumble away. One step. Fingers opened. Her arms lifted enough to drop the blanket behind her and feel the wind. “You think I can write a song powerful enough to help me fly over this bridge, Billy?”

   One hand lifted higher, lips open and unable to stop. Unable to look away from the edge. Steady as can be, Billy slid his palm against her. Skin awakening. Reminded her that she was here. That he was with her. That they weren't alone and the song was alive. Fingers laced and Evie seemed to reel back to him, brown eyes glinting to see his face there. Freckles all glowy. Curls spun of gold shifting just right.

   "You're beautiful." She observed there.

   Billy surely would have followed her to the edge, but he didn't want her to go. Stay.

   "You're strange." He'd found this sentiment before and it sounded all the more lovely tonight. Billy gently pulled her from the edge. “Come here, Angel, warm me up.” 

   Billy draped himself in the other blanket again. Shifted her under it as if it were a cape. A shroud that would keep them both from harm's way. From the edge.

   “Okay, Dracula, easy.” She stumbled into him. The diamond lines of Billy’s chest cut into her. “Wait, you feel that?” She watched his earring shift while he looked around. “The vibration.”

   “Yeah, I do.” He muttered suggestively.

   “Not that kind. Just listen. Feel it.” Evie stepped out, almost giddy as she plucked her blanket up and felt around. Billy welcomed it in his chest. The smooth vibrations generating from above. “Get ready.”

   “Ready?” He laughed, coming toward her again. Billy stepped into her space as Evie reached back to curl her fingers into his leather jacket.  Head tilted up toward the tracks. 

   “Lie down with me.” She began to tug and Billy felt this drunkenness take him over at Evie and her smile brightening. They reclined together wrapped in blankets and Billy realized it as the horns called over Evie’s wild laughter.

   “You’re full of surprises, Fenny.”

   “It helps to scream it out, whatever you want. Just let it go with the train.” She kept snickering as the bridge really began to shake. Billy watched her face. Alight and wild. Red lips against the moonlight pooling to spill over her and illuminate the glitter in her makeup.

   “You’re beautiful.” He said then. Unsure if she really heard him over the howl of the oncoming cars. 

   Billy laughed with her. The roar of a train began to charge above. Blaring horns and steel wheels cranking fast. Her nose crinkled as the windswept their hair. Lips opening to scream with it. Billy couldn’t help joining her. Both of them calling out against the rumbling that never seemed to end.

   Icicles fell around the edges and reminded Billy of confetti. Falling so slow and sweet to decorate the space. Shattering colors. That night he first danced with her and kissed her long and hard. Spinning round and round.

   Evie pulled herself up and climbed higher into the beams. Head tossed back to give a call like a siren.

   “Fuck you!” She saw Billy stand and peered at him. “Keep yelling! Anything you want at anyone! Really let ‘em have it!”

   “You first!”

   “You left mom and me, you selfish fucking prick!” She raged up into the air for her father that wasn’t around. Hair whirling up into the gust of wind. The train took her syllables with it. Shouting back. "You can't just make people and then abandon them! They'll think they did something wrong forever!" Billy felt his chest tighten. Joined her. Heart bursting.

   “Why didn’t you just let me fucking save you! Why wasn't I enough!” He didn’t yell for Neil who beat him senseless. Perched upon steel Evie saw Billy tense. Burst again. “I hate you!” He cried that. Evie's fingers pressed harder into steel. Lost in him. Billy heaved for fresher air. Having never faced it all.

   The train ended as they stared at each other. Both breathing into the frozen air. Heaving to gasp.

   Evie slipped down and tossed her arms around Billy’s shoulders. Kissed him back into cold steel as if she was trying to comfort him. Kiss him all better. Luna moths landing delicately on their bodies to open and close their lovely wings.

   "Why'd you do that?" Billy asked of her for the first time. Evie beamed at the turn in the phrase.

   "Because at that time, you weren't going to." She brought him back in. Wanting more. Cupping his face. “Feel any better?” Evie drew out, leaving him to look fluttered. Unsure, Billy swept in so he didn’t have to reply yet. Miles of kisses hot like the cherry of his smoke he let tumble below.

   “Felt good.” He murmured, pulling her into him. “If anything.” 

   “You can’t tell anyone about this place. It’s my secret. Our secret.” She pecked his lips and Billy drew out because they both were too cold to continue. The heat in her belly wasn’t enough. 

   He tilted his forehead against hers, lulled forth when her weight shifted back and the loss. The loss of her ached Billy down to his marrow. This almost paradise they constructed together.

   Curls fell into his face before he lifted to glimpse Evie once more. Wondered how she’d look swaying with lush moonbeams in her hair always. Pretty goddess draped in starlight. Painted in pearly shimmers. 

   Enough to take his breath, Billy gasped for it back and gave this distant chuckle. Nodded to promise he wouldn't tell a soul. Evie caught him wincing as her hand moved over his shoulder again so she left him completely.

   “Sorry.”

   “It’s nothing.” He turned to go, eyes elsewhere. Anywhere else they could dart. Not on her. “Let’s just head back.” Billy felt like he was in a dream. Spinning and dizzy all the way back to the car. He realized as the locks clicked that Evie had been speaking.

   “Are you alright?” She swallowed and Billy looked at the car keys in his hand. Little scorpion keychain glinting. “Were you talking to your mom back there?”

   “Yeah. I just…” Billy shook his head and turned the engine on. “I don’t know where it came from.”

   “I thought it’d be Neil.”

   “I guess I can’t even stomach dreaming of him.” He replied. “I know it’s not a dream if he’s there. Even if he’s getting his. You know?”

   “Yeah. I, uh… Do you…?” Evie squirmed in her seat, worried he’d close up on her as he stared at the road and drove at a steady speed for once.

   “Do I, what?”

   “Hate her?”

   “No.” He skidded at a red light, almost sounded defensive. Shoulders fell. Knuckles went white on the wheel. “Sometimes.” Evie felt her cheeks burn and tried to sound even, it still came out as an airy whisper.

   “What happened to her, Billy?”

   “She just died.” He sighed to calm his own tone from sounding hot. “She died when I was fourteen.” Finally, he corrected himself. “She killed herself.”

   “I’m sorry.” Evie tried not to stare at him. Fear it made him uncomfortable quelled, but she couldn’t look away. Billy closed his eyes at the next red light to breathe, opened them.

   “It happens.” He said. “People wake up one morning and decide they don’t want to wake up ever again...and they act on it. And they succeed.” It felt like he started to drive slower the closer they got to Cherry. “Doesn’t matter who they leave behind.”

   Evie carefully extended her hand over to touch his in his lap. Because it does fucking matter and it always will. The fingers on the wheel flexed and Billy didn’t tear away.

   “She had a lot of problems. Like my dad. Maybe they tried to fix each other once. I don’t know.” Billy continued. Too tender about it all. “They divorced when I was nine. All the back in forth. The visitations. Courtrooms making me choose and I just...I wanted her. I wanted it to stop too. I know she was messed up, but she tried to get better… You believe me, don’t you?” 

   His blue eyes glistened. Jaw tensing. Billy pulled up between their houses and neither moved as he cut the engine.

   “Yes, I believe you.” Evie found the syllables around her tongue.

   “You believe people can get better, Evie?”

   She almost welled with him. It struck her heart with lightning.

   “I really hope so.” She had to or she was lost just as well. Evie sniffled and tried to be stone again when all the emotion came into her voice to cloud it.

   “She never hit me though. Dad drank and beat the shit out of her. Made her drug habits worse and worse. Liked when she was some coked-out zombie. Pills and needles, it just… Fuck, Evie, she just kept falling back. They fought for custody the whole time and I really thought she was getting better. Dad acted like a fucking hero, rescuing me from an evil druggie.”

   “You’re worth getting better for.” Evie felt Billy slip from her hand so he could clear his throat and rub his eyes.

   “I found her, you know?” He shuddered and stared at his open palms in his lap. Saw red on them. “It was her weekend and I took the bus home from school like I always did. We were going to go to the boardwalk.”

   His head tipped back and he gave this grim smile. They never made it to that boardwalk, Evie realized. 

   “The smell of that house, I’ll never… Just rotten...and I couldn’t even see her face at first because of all the flies.” It was Billy who reached out aimlessly for Evie’s wrist. Something to stay rooted, she figured. “My mom was beautiful and she always smelled like oranges. Like the big orchard she worked at. But, the fucking house just smelled like shit and piss and vomit and rust when I came in. Like death. I found her in the bathtub all bloated and ugly and the water was already brown. She sat in there alone decaying and no one...”

   Billy kept rubbing his eyes again until they were too swollen to cry. Evie had his hand in both of hers, clamped tight to keep him alert. Unwavering.

   “I didn’t know what to do so I called for help. I couldn’t lift her out, I wasn’t strong enough and I kept screaming...  Then, I tried my dad three times, and...fuck, I ended up calling Susan. They’d started dating a couple of months before and I didn’t like her. Or her kid. But, she was too nice and gave me a number to call if I needed her after they’d gotten serious. I don’t know why I kept it in my backpack. She came when they were loading my mom up. Kept trying to hold me and I wouldn’t let her until I was too weak to fight it.”

   “She does care about you. She’s scared, too.”

   “My dad cleans up his act well from time to time. Plays the perfect father and boyfriend, she fell for it. In too deep now with no way out. He'll bleed her dry, too. My dad, he likes it when people don’t have a way out. Mom found a way though, spite him.” Billy dropped his head back again, chest sinking before he looked at Evie. Quivered there. “I just get...so mad.”

   “I know.” She sank into the seat a little to watch him.

   “She left a note that said sorry. That she loved me. Left this for me, too.” Billy fingered his pendant. “Wasn’t enough. Sometimes, I walk into my own house now and that smell… I can’t escape it. I’m always in that house. In that room with the flies covering everything.”

   That shook Evie. They weren’t perfect kids, but they didn’t deserve to be trapped in that house. In that room. Where trauma was fed on a loop. A haunted house where they were the ghosts doomed and trapped to wander. To relive what killed them from the first.

   “I tried so fucking hard to make her better, I took care of her and I wasn’t there. I let my dad drive her to-”

   “Billy, it’s not your fault.” Evie had his hand pressed against her chest at that. “It’s not.” Both painfully sober, they just looked at each other. Leveled out. “I’m sure she tried so hard for you. Some people, they just… Addiction is…” 

   Evie felt this ice swell up her stomach. Addiction is a harsh cycle. It never really ends, you work at it and fight it, but it’s always there in the back of your memories urging. Once you start, you’re always an addict. Recovering or not. You can’t stop.

   You can’t stop.

   “Getting help is so hard when you’re sick.” Was all Evie could manage. Unable to portray how profoundly she understood. “Your job was to be a kid.”

   “All I wanted was to go back to California and now, I’m not sure if I ever can. Just knowing she won’t be there again. Sometimes when I’m here, I just pretend she’s alive and still picking oranges on long, hot days.” Billy swallowed. “My dad just...shut down for the first time when he showed up to get me from Susan’s. I asked him if he was gonna hug me. Susan had for a long time. And he just tensed and told me not to be soft. That I can’t act like a pussy and mom was just too fucking sick to get better. But, I knew she had a chance. I knew it was enough. I...” Billy’s voice cut over. He tried to gasp for some clear air so Evie pulled him over the seats into her arms.

   “You’re enough.” She said. Plain and simple. So easily.

   Billy vibrated in response.

   "Sometimes I think you navigate the world like something bad is coming for you and you're waiting for it, Evie," he muffled into her, "and I don't want you to go, too."

   "I won't go." Evie held steady, eyes flickering beyond him at dead space. "Promise."

   Hands came up like he might shove her off before Billy shattered. Melted into her heat. The soft slopes of flesh. Arms went under his so she could hold him close. Billy hitched a sob and stopped anything else that dared creep up his throat. Fingers wrung into her clothing. Evie let him squeeze her tight. Within inches of breath. Make her a balmy slice of paradise he could sink into.

   Billy closed his eyes. Face pressing into the line of her collar. Inhaling perfume and lotion. Flames bubbling up from her skin. 

   “Come to bed with me,” Evie’s lips touched his ear, “nothing funny. I just don’t want you to sleep alone tonight.” Billy felt himself relent, only nodded into her hair. 

   They snuck out under street lamps and went into the Fenny house. Cleaned up without words to dress down for bed. Blue wiggled in with them atop the pillows and Billy faced away.

   Evie wished she had something better to say, but she just told him goodnight. Gently murmured it against his spine as she tucked in behind him. 

   “Evie.” Billy shifted after a long beat. Turned over to face her there. Barely awake at that point, her eyes cracked.

   “Hm?”

   “Thanks.” Billy moved again on his back because it always seemed to get her nuzzling into his side. “What I told you. Don’t tell anyone else. Please.” Arm stretching so Evie could take her place and mumble something he didn’t catch, a nod followed. Nose pressing to the cotton tee he left on, Evie slipped away first. Left Billy to his thoughts as he watched the dim lights pull between the blinds and curtains to make patterns along her ceiling. 

   He knew he was consumed and he wasn’t sorry. Not one bit. Evie tumbled deeper into her dreams. Not stirring as fingers played with her curls. Petting them softly. Billy mulled over it all and he just wasn’t ashamed and he couldn’t figure out how to make her see it. But, he was willing to keep trying. Evie was worth trying for, too. Plain and simple. Sighing out, Billy let himself begin to slip too.

   “Anyone…” He couldn’t help uttering, almost melodic. Lashes fluttering. “...who knows what love is…” 

   Billy peered down at Evie’s face, peaceful and relaxed against his chest. Cheek pressing hot through the fabric as his fingertips ran a barely-there line down the silky skin.

   The rest of the lyrics never came. Tangled into his heartstrings where they made a cozy home.

   Billy immersed himself in burning amber, closed his eyes to follow Evie into absolute darkness. Almost paradise.

~~~~~~~

Thanks guys for being so lovely! This is probs my fav chapter to date. Leave words in my ask or replies if you have them! Love to hear from you all xoxo

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[intricate-oeuvre]

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part XI

Word count: 2.5k+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: nakedness, bad grammar. angst, Geralt doesn't know what are feelings

A/N: I have certain schedule when I post updates. that is, the last part has to reach certain note count before I upload the next part. THANK YOU FOR READING!

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

What? Axelia’s eyes grew big, small confusion settling in her. She looked around. Shit.

This was his room.

That’s why his shirt was there.

As she heard him drop his boots and unbutton his pants, she sat up straighter, her hands sliding to the edges of the tub.

Next second she was out of the bath, drenched like a rat in pouring rain and with swift hands grabbed the towel to press it against her chest. But Geralt was as fast- his hands encircled her waist and held her above the ground. Axelia let out a shriek and started kicking and hissing at him.

“Towel. Drop it.” He said to her.

“Geralt. Put. Me. Down.” Axelia hissed at him. He did put her down, but didn’t let go of her.

“Get back in the tub or I’m going to throw you back in with the damned towel.” He threatened her.

“You wouldn’t.” Axelia gasped. But then again, this was Geralt who they were talking about.

Next second Axelia was under water, alongside her towel. With splutter and angry grunt, she rose up, the towel all wet now and soaked as it rested on her head.

Axelia looked as some kind of a vile monster- her hair, spread across her back and shoulders like sea-weeds and the drenched towel on her head and face. She pulled off the towel and with stare that could kill, Axelia looked at Geralt, who was now in the tub opposite her.

“There you are, princess.” He teased her in mock sarcasm. Axelia opened her mouth as water poured out from it, making Geralt bark out a laugh at her. She hated that Geralt called her like that.

It had stuck with him when he had heard Eskel call her like that because she was the only girl around the school. They all were drunk at the time and picking drunken fights with each other and just primarily having great time. When fellow witcher had said that she should be treated as a princess, since she is the only female witcher, ever. She had smacked Eskel in head with a wooden spoon for that. And right after that Lambert also had called her a princess, which earned him- a smack of spoon on his forehead too, without a doubt. They all were too drunk to fight back. Of course, Geralt had to jump in on it as well. He had been sitting across her, and as Axelia had leaned across the table to smack him in the head with the spoon, he had leaned back, out of her reach. With grunt she-witcher had climbed swiftly across the table top, grabbing onto his shoulder and thus making both of them fall on the ground with laughter as she just had balanced the spoon on his forehead. But those were absent times now.

“You, complete arse.” She spat, and threw the wet towel at him. With smack it landed on his shoulder. Still chuckling, he pushed it to the floor.

Axelia stuck her tongue out at him. Geralt didn’t seem to notice that, now more content on getting himself clean as he scrubbed his arms with washcloth.

Axelia only huffed and dragged her hands upward her face, to get hair out of her mouth and eyes. Her hands staying on sides of her head, elbows raised.

“I’m getting out.” She said, more to herself than Geralt, as her hands flew to the edges.

“There’s no towel.” Geralt answered mater of factly.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” Axelia turned and hissed at him. With a grunt she rose from the tub and stepped out. She didn’t shy away from him. Nothing he hadn’t seen before and vice versa. With her bare back to the witcher, she stopped at the table and carefully picked up the rings. One at the time, and slid them on her pale fingers. Her skin felt soft and ample from the bath. Meanwhile, Geralt looked at her, shamelessly letting his eyes travel along her back, watching how water droplets were running down her figure.

Gathering all of her rings, she made her way towards the curtains and disappeared behind them, leaving witcher to bathe alone.

For some time, he enjoyed the bath, basking in silence when someone out of nowhere, emptied a bucket of water on his head.

“I said you need a bath!” Axelia laughed behind him, bucket still in her hands. With hands on both sides of the tub, Geralt turned to look behind him, at her, water running from his hair, down his face.

She was dressed in his black shirt which barely covered her bottom, leaving enough for one’s imagination; one sleeve rolled up as the other was left loosely dangling around her wrist. But other than that, the shirt itself was neatly buttoned up.

“Come here.” Geralt tried to reach for her, but she took a quick step back, dropping her hands at her sides.

“Bathe. Then we’ll talk.” Axelia said seriously, leaning down to put bucket on the floor.

“Hmm. Don’t trust your talk. You usually run away.” Geralt grunted, his eyes catching her movement a she pulled the stool and sat down on it. Hands length away from him.

“Where am I going to run- naked?” Axelia hummed in return as she put her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands.

“In my shirt.” Geralt corrected, leaning back against the tub, his eyes scanning her form. Axelia hummed, and just stared at the edge of the tub.

“Thank you for having my back, I guess.” She mumbled.

“Hmm… You are an absolute idiot.” Geralt tilted his head back, looking at her down his nose as his hand was circling in the water, sending small ripples across the surface.

“I know. I though there’s going to be only couple of ghouls.” Axelia sighed.

“In old war crypt? Only ghouls? I thought that papa Vesemir taught you better.” Geralt raised his eyebrows as he ducked his head towards her, almost seemingly similar to a inquisitive way.

“Fuck off.” Axelia wasn’t having any of his jests. “I have made enough of a fool out of myself these past days.”

“Have you now?” He said, running wet hands through his hair.

“Don’t laugh at me. You, of all the people.” Axelia grunted and turned her whole body away from him.

“Axelia.” Geralt hummed defeated, his hand reaching for her knees to turn her back, facing him.

“I know I fucked up. Don’t lecture me.” Axelia looked at him.

“I’m not.” Geralt assured her, studying her features, and the fact that she was playing with her rings.

“Show me.” He extended his hand, waiting for her to take it, in a way distracting her thoughts. She putted her hands in his.

She had started wearing rings, when Geralt had brought one for her when they were younger and he had gone for his witcher travels and she had stayed back. The first ring he got her was a dainty one, because he hadn’t been sure, if she would like it. Simple silver band with three dark crystals on top, that was sitting on her left hand’s fourth finger. Another one of his gifts had been a much more colossal one- silver wolf head. Situated on her right hand’s pointer finger. He run his thumb across it, but didn’t dwell long on it. Third one, that he had gotten for her was another smaller one, this time with white rock that had translucent turquoise tone to it. It had reminded him of the mix of her old eye colour and the one she had now. This one was gracing her right hand’s ring finger. With two other rings he was not familiar with. He looked at the two small silver bands, simple, nothing on them, just adorning her left hands middle and pointer finger.

“All silver.” Geralt stated.

“Yes. Because you said you won’t let me have those silver wolf brass knuckles. These come as handy. Especially strangling wise.” Her statement made him look up at her with this weird expression, like he was repelled or something.

“Oh, don’t you look at me like that.” Axelia pulled both of her hands away, but Geralt was quick enough to grab one before she pulled away entirely.

“Experimenting, are we?” Geralt laced his fingers with hers.

“You know that I never slept with anyone else.” Axelia’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Jaskier?” he raised questioning eyebrow at her.

“Gods, no. Never went as far as kiss him. He gets… distracted, if you will…” Axelia’s own brows creased as she was trying to search for words.

“He loves everything that has two legs.” Geralt offered.

“But he’s a good friend.”

“Hmm.”

“You and Yennefer. She’s as mother to Ciri.” Axelia voiced her observations.

Another hmm.

“Thank you…” Axelia trailed off, when silence stretched across the room.

“Thank you for saving me, for not letting me die out there and thanks to Yennefer too, I would have probably bled out without her stiches. Thank you for all the best memories—” Axelia started quietly.

“Why are you-” Geralt couldn’t understand why was she saying this to him. Whenever they met, she never voiced such things.

“I’m leaving in the morning. This time I’m telling you.” She looked him in the eyes. The scorching amber. A tone that one could never catch in a pendant.

“No.” Geralt’s eyes grew big as he gently shook his head, his hold on Axelia’s wrist getting stronger, but not causing any pain.

“We should draw the line.” Axelia shook her head in return tilting it sideways.

“You think that drawing a line will stop us from running into each other?” Geralt said, his brows creasing and his tone gaining an edge of irritation.

With shake of her head, Axelia pulled her hand out of his grasp.

“Don’t you think it’s exhausting?” Axelia sighed, hugging herself. Her wet hair falling around her shoulders in clumps. Geralt didn’t answer, he never really was on for explaining emotions, his own or others.

“I told you it hurts. To an extent that it almost physically hurts.” Axelia whispered, her voice dropping, almost fading into nothing.

“Axelia…” Geralt whispered her name in return.

“Aren’t we cursed enough?” Axelia suddenly turned to look at Geralt. Her eyes brimming with tears and her mouth unexpectedly going dry. The look on her face making the male witcher intake a sharp breath.

Running her hand under her nose, Axelia got up and disappeared behind the thick drapes. As she was nicking around the room and choosing which pants should she take, she couldn’t will the tears away. With huff pulling on new pants and tying her boots, Axelia sat on the edge of bed. Her legs looking long for her small stature and her shoulders almost gaining a lanky look because of Geralt’s big shirt. Woman’s hands falling in her lap as she looked around the room, her lips pulling in a frown as tears anew streamed down her cheeks.  Her marble-like eyes stopping at the drapes and blinking rapidly, she silently chocked out a sob, her mouth falling open. With sniffle, she dug the heels of her palms in her eyes, her nails digging in her head as she groaned in fury. She couldn’t ignore her emotions for long, she will explode. Yet it was the only thing she knew how to do. Running her finger under her nose she got up. Seeing her corset draped over the chair she swiftly put it on. Axelia glanced out of the window at the light that was slowly disappearing, and grabbing her stuff she was ready to leave the room. In no way, will she be staying in that room. Not alone, not with him.

“Already running?” Came Geralt’s voice as Axelia tried to reach for the door handle. She froze, sigh escaping her as one tear run down her cheek to land on her forearm that was not obstructed by his shirt.

“Maybe.” Axelia said, her voice gaining unusual tone because of her stuffed nose.

“I stand by what I said.” Axelia was referring to what she had said back at the edge of the forest.

“Please. Don’t follow me.” Axelia closed her eyes, her hand gripping the handle tighter.

“You think I can control that?” Geralt said behind her, pulling on his shirt.

“But you must. For my sake.” Axelia whispered, not sure if Geralt even heard her.

“Just… promise me that you won’t come seek me out. Never again… even if your gut is telling you otherwise.” Axelia looked over her shoulder at him, half hiding her tears.

“Gut? You really think it’s my gut telling me to look for you? No instinct, no witcher senses are telling me that.” Geralt spat at her, growing tired of her running.

“Then what is?!” Axelia swiftly turned around to look at him. Geralt grabbed stepped closer to her, kind of expecting for her to step back but she didn’t even flinch. Her eyes only following his movement. Then he grabbed her right hand and pressed to his chest, right where his heart was.

“This is.”

Axelia’s eyes stayed trained on his chest, on their hands. His hands always seemed warmer than hers.

“Yennefer… it’s all magic… djinn.” Geralt explained, his eyes searching her face.

Axelia’s furrowed, she wasn’t sure that she was understanding him. Did she hear him right?

“W-what?” she mumbled, her eyes closing for a second.

“The last wish,” Geralt choose to stay vague. “…to save her.”

For a second, Axelia’s nails lightly grazed his shirt. And then her eyebrows slowly rose up.

“It’s not real…” Axelia mumbled, and gently pushed herself away from him. Geralt tilted his head, not understanding her actions.

“But you love her…” Axelia looked up at him.

“But she’s not my soulmate.” Geralt narrowed his eyes at her.

Did he really think that after all this time of being completely alone, she will just run back in his arms?

“Took you a really long time to realize that, Geralt.” Axelia smiled bitterly at him. Now, when she thought that she will be finally ready to cut things off and fight this feeling of love, he comes prancing back, confusing her.

“Why now?” she looked warily down at her own hands.

“I could let you go only so many times. And every time I did… I regretted it. Didn’t matter if Yennefer was there or not nor Jaskier’s constant babbles of me being and stupid arse.” Geralt’s eyes were jumping from one item to another all around the room.

“It’s funny how fate has made us like this… You could break my heart thousands of times, Geralt. And I still would pick of every single peace and put them back into your hands. But I am not sure, if those pieces haven’t turned into sharp daggers.” Axelia hummed, her fingers toying with her rings.

“I rather be spitting blood and bleed out myself, than rather watch you leave one more time.” Geralt looked down at her.

Axelia looked at him. Unsure of what to do. Not knowing any better, she took one swift step and crushed into his chest. Missing his warmth dearly. With a small grunt from Axelia’s sudden movement, Geralt wrapped his hands around her, planting a small chaste kiss on her forehead.

~~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

tags:

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a/n: pardon, if Tumblr doesn't let me tag you