#god i really need to play paper lily chapter one!! maybe i will get on that today

[occkalt]

HONESTLY KAT IS QUICKLY BECOMING ONE OF MY FAVOURITE MUSES OF ALL TIME... or at least one of my favourite to write, lol.

I DON'T KNOW WHY because again, it's not like she has much time to shine in her canon, being as short as it is. but what is there is just so great, and her personality is just so much fun to write............. I love this dumb reckless girl so much ;ww;

[imalwaystiredzzz]

C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

#genshin x reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy chapters >

Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow. 

Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.

“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.  

The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”

He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”

In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?

Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve. 

But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands. 

Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.

“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.

“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.” 

“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out. 

Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.

But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on. 

Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.

“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.” 

“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.

“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.” 

He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom. 

In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.

And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?

“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”

“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.

“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.

“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years. 

You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.

“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.  

The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends. 

“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.

Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.

He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.

War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.

Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.

Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.

But Morax knows, he could never really.

Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.

Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him. 

“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.

 Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart? 

He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.

Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.

[kayparker20]

Inner Turmoil - Chapter 6

I'm so sorry about the wait this time around guys. I threw myself for a loop with this plot and I've been struggling a lot to figure out what I want to happen next. I decided to focus on a minor issue while I brainstorm what happens next. It's a bit feelsy but it's not super dramatic. Also kind of realized it was almost too long so the next chapter will have a spicy start before the real plot happens.

Hope you enjoy this somewhat filler chapter!

Chapter 6 - Village Gossip

FFN | AO3

Ino sat at the front counter of her family flower shop, impatiently waiting for the jonin ninja in her store to get a move on. They would always come in, pretend to look around while gossiping, and never buy one thing. She hasn’t liked them since she heard them being hateful towards Kurenai-sensei, probably out of jealousy.

“Can you believe, of all the beautiful shinobi, he dates his former student?” The woman scoffed and brushed her fingertips over the petals of lilies in a bouquet. “I think I would have rather heard he was gay, before that.” Her long, charcoal hair was curled and flowing down her back in waves. 

Another rolled her eyes. “Yeah, gay for Might Guy, even.” Fiery redhead, model body. “Of course, Hatake was too perfect to have no flaws, I just didn’t think it would be something so repulsive like fucking children.” 

“Do you think she fucked her way into jonin level?” The darker haired woman speculated. She turned around and looked at some roses that had been to her left.

Ino had been idly doodling flowers on a piece of blank receipt paper before hearing the topic they had been discussing. Her hand stopped mid-petal at the last comment before she narrowed her eyes at the piece of paper.

“I mean, maybe. Must have been easy to become jonin when you’re the Hokage’s apprentice, and being taught by a legend.” She scowled. “I wouldn’t put it past her. I hear she’s quite the bitch at the hospital.” 

She felt her mother’s eyes on her as she squeezed the pen, staring daggers meant for the women at the counter. She took a deep breath, reminding herself she needed to stay cordial and polite because they were customers, despite how abrasive and tactless they were.

She flipped her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder before addressing the women with a sarcastic smile. “Excuse me, ladies, is there anything I can help you find?” Her tone dripped with deviance through her smile. Her whole body felt tense with her anger as she forced herself to appear relaxed and helpful.

Two can play this catty game.

The women turned in her direction, both sporting smirks on their expressions. They both stared at her as if she were boring before cocking their hips to the side and giving fake smiles in her direction.

“We’re just admiring, but thank you.” The redhead shot back in a clipped tone.

“Are you sure? I think a bouquet of yellow hyacinths, lavender, and iris would go nicely with your hair.” Ino offered slyly.

She stole a glance at her mother, expecting to see an expression of disapproval, and was surprised to see the faintest smile spreading across her lips. 

The darker haired woman narrowed her eyes, clearly catching the message. “You have something to say, girl?”

Ino kept her demeanor as she shook her head. “Oh no, I was just offering. Purple and yellow complement well, you know?” 

Before either woman could snapback, the elder brunette cut in politely. “Ladies, it’s time for our lunch, and we must close for the next hour, so please take your pick. We can check you out for your purchase. We’re glad to give you your flowers before we find our meal for the workday.” 

Ino’s mother sounded elegant and was the epitome of professionalism as she gave a gratuitous grin towards the women.

Both women huffed in defeat.

“No, miss, thank you for your time.” The darker haired woman gave a strained smile before she walked out, the redhead following.

As soon as the door shut, Ino let out an annoyed sigh. “Thanks…” She huffed before crossing her arms across her chest.

Her mother just shook her head softly. “Your cleverness and restraint amaze me sometimes. It was rather amusing.”

“It’s exhausting, not amusing. I much would have preferred to hit them. That was far from tasteful gossip.” Ino scowled. “How could they accuse Sakura of using sex to get rank! As if she isn’t a jonin level medic! Or uh, I don’t know, the medical director of our hospital! The disrespect!” 

Her mother sighed. “People are going to talk, and you have to admit it’s at least a little scandalous. Those women are just jealous, and will say anything to make themselves feel better.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” Ino argued.

Sakura walked in then, smiling. “What doesn’t make something right?” She inquired curiously. “What gossip did you dig up now, Pig?” 

Ino turned, her eyes wide to see Sakura. “Oh, uh, nothing!” She chuckled nervously. “Ready for lunch?”

Sakura looked at her surreptitiously. Clearly, something was up. “Spill it. Now.”

Ino crossed her arms, before giving her a defiant look. “And if I don’t?”

“Are you going to make me beat it out of you? Was it about me?” Sakura deadpanned. “You never refuse to tell me gossip unless it’s about me and it's negative.”

Ino hated how well she and Sakura knew each other in moments like this. They couldn’t hide anything from each other. She sighed before uncrossing her arms. “It doesn’t matter, I handled it anyway.” She said matter of factly.

Sakura stared at her friend before shrugging. “You’re telling me at lunch, come on. Off to get our dango and tea. Director or not, I still run on a schedule. And I got behind after being gone a couple of days.”

Ino lips spread into a teasing grin. “Behind because you were off saving my ass or behind because qualities like procrastination and tardiness are rubbing off on you?” 

Sakura gave her an unimpressed look. “I was late one time. Definitely behind from saving your ass from our deranged classmate.”

They started walking towards their favorite cafe. It was nice outside even if it was a little cooler. Leaves lay around the ground, dry and crinkling under their footsteps. She could only wonder what Ino was all in a tiff about today, being as she saw the very same women she knew to leave the shop with all too knowing smirks. She was also slightly discomforted by them because when they saw her, their expressions suddenly turned downright venomous.

It wasn’t too uncommon for her to get those as the news of her and Kakashi spread, once rumors became truths. It made her wonder about Anko’s offhanded ‘sex god’ comment. Maybe they were a couple of those one-night stands? She frowned at the thought, not thinking Kakashi would have entertained such rude women. 

“Aren’t those the women that you got upset at for talking at Kurenai some time ago?” She wondered to her friend aloud.

“Oh, yes.” She snapped back. “They’re worse than me for spreading everyone’s business and their bullshit two cents about it.” 

Sakura couldn’t remember the last time she heard Ino sound unenthused about new gossip. Usually, it meant it was about someone she cared about, and that it thoroughly pissed her off. Even more so unusually, she would normally be more than ready to rant her pretty reddened lips off about said women being conceited and judgemental and downright horrible. 

Yet today, her blonde friend was being clipped and avoiding discussing the topic. She decided to test it out again. “So what treachery were they discussing today?”

Ino hesitated. She didn’t want to tell Sakura the things people were saying about her and Kakashi. Her friend had been so happy. She seemed to glow this past month since she had started dating him. She didn’t need to be troubled by people thinking the exact opposite of a situation. 

She smiled at her friend. “Oh, not much. I just hate how they loiter in the shop and force me to deal with their presence, yet never buy anything.”

Sakura just gave her friend a bored look and rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“That’s her. Can you believe such a young girl is with a man like him?”

Sakura instantly frowned, refusing to look in the direction of the people they just passed. She tried to remind herself what people said didn’t matter.

“I don’t think I want Mika to have a male sensei. Do they all prey on their students?”

Her expression turned into a downright glare. How dare someone to accuse him of such horrible things? Why did they blame him? Why was it so hard to just believe they loved each other? Hearing the things people said on the street made her miss the way their friends easily accepted them. 

“Must be easy to make jounin when you’re the Hokage’s bitch, and fucking one of the commanders.”

Ino watched as all the same bullshit those women had said in her little shop floated around them. Maybe she wasn’t really able to protect Sakura after all, but she’d be damned if she was the one who brought that sort of mood on.

“Don’t listen to it. They're wrong.” Ino said sternly, flinging hard glares directly at anyone who dared say something within their earshot.

“It was me those women were gossiping about in your shop today, wasn’t it?”

Ino snorted. “I told them rather professionally exactly how I felt about their false ass opinions.”

Sakura sighed. “I think the ones I hate the most are him being a pedophile, or me using him to get rank.” Her face contorted into anger. “I’ve been a jounin since before I even realized I loved him, for fuck sake!” Sakura growled out. 

“Does she pine after her whole team? First the traitor, now the sensei. Jinchuriki and socially inept next? Maybe she just whores around for them all.”

Now that one was just funny. She laughed as she and Ino entered their shop. “Alright, as if! Did you hear that one?” 

Ino raised an eyebrow. “Do you think Sai knows how to fake an orgasm like he does a smile? That’d be rather disconcerting. Being cute only gets you so far.”

They sat down at their table and ordered their tea and dango. The homey atmosphere of this place always put Sakura at ease. The place had always been so down to earth, and the staff here were so nice and she had known most of them for at least quite some time now. 

She remembers coming to this little cafe for the time with her team as a genin before Sasuke left. He claimed it was a treat for doing so well on a mission, before disappearing when it came time for the bill to be paid. She remembered feeling so angry back then, how dare their sensei pull some sheisty trick like that! But now it was just funny, thinking about times when their lives hadn’t changed so drastically.

“Watch out, Team Seven’s Mistress, coming through.”

Sakura wrinkled her nose. “Okay, now that sounds like a scandal for sure. I could never even dream of taking Naruto from Hinata, let alone sleeping with him. And don’t get me started on Sai.” 

“Shouldn’t she be here soon?” Ino inquired.

As if on queue, the bell rang as another customer entered, and it was their black haired Hyuga friend.

“Hina, over here!” Sakura called.

Hinata meandered over their table and sat next to Sakura. “Hi, guys!” She spoke softly, happy to see her friends.

“Tell Sakura here to ignore these stupid rumors jealous nimrods keep spreading,” Ino said blandly. “Well, at least the boring ones.”

Hinata raised an eyebrow. “There are ones that aren’t boring?”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Apparently there’s one that I’m fucking my entire team.”

“Oh, now that’s just dirty! Who would do such a thing?” 

“Which thing, fuck the whole team, or fuck Naruto?” Ino said in a teasing voice.

Their friend turned beet red. “I-I don’t either Sakura or myself would uh… Have relations with an entire team.”

Sakura slumped in her seat. “You’re right, but people think my sensei is a pedophile. Which hurts because he would never have thought of me, or any of young girls, in such a way.”

Ino and Hinata watched as Sakura looked so hurt. How do you tell your friend to ignore things she hears whispered as soon as she comes into a room, or simply a vicinity. No one had to deal with something like that. Then again, neither of them were dating men much older than them, or ones who had been their teacher. But why does that matter when they’re adults now? Sakura had been a jonin for two years now after she and Shikamaru had gotten promoted when the fourth war ended.

“They are just jealous that a younger, prettier, and more talented kunoichi took their eye-candy off the market.” Ino insisted. “Easier to keep their ego intact if they blame him for being gross, or you for using him.” 

“I guess…” She sighed. “Look at me, worried about stupid gossip when my old teammate is hellbent on making me join him…” Sakura shivered at the thought. “Even now, there are three ANBU following me at all times.”

“Wait, even at Kakashi’s…?” 

Sakura nodded.

“I bet they watch…” Ino smirked deviously.

“Ino!” Hinata squeaked. 

Sakura just shook her head, more than used to Ino’s antics. She knew it would take her ‘innocent’ friend some time to get used to Ino’s crudeness, but she felt better being around both her close friends.

“Do you think people truly think that low of Kakashi? People think he would groom one of his students?” Sakura asked seriously.

Hinata shrugged. “You can’t expect people to necessarily think super well of someone who openly reads porn in public.”

“Hey, Icha-Icha is a wonderful series.” Ino piped in. “Even Sakura agrees with that.”

Sakura laughed at the comment. “It’s true, but I guess you have a point. No one sees that unless they’ve dared to read the beloved Ero-Sannin’s work. Lady Tsunade swears to burn every copy of those books, but she secretly has her first edition collection, signed by Jiraiya himself.”

“I guess society might accuse us of being molesters next, huh, Pig?”

Sakura frowned. “I sure hope not, considering I’m certain being a molester consists of much more than enjoying romance novels that might be slightly too pornographic at some points along with the good plot.”

Hinata giggled lightly. “I think anyone who had ever actually paid attention to you and Kakashi-sensei interacting would have realized you were the one going after him.” She smiled softly.

Sakura thought about that. She knew she never made intentional moves on Kakashi, but apparently everyone close to them knew they loved each other, or that there was at least something going on. She couldn’t help but feel touched at how accepting his friends were, even if Anko and Genma teased her relentlessly. Or made threesome jokes, which Kakashi bluntly shut down quickly. However, a large majority of people were the stark opposite.

She should have known that Ino’s ideals about them being shinobi bending morals a bit was closer to romanticism than what society thought in reality. She felt like she was just as much an adult as Kakashi and the rest, even in her 20s. She’s gone on deadly missions just like Kakashi, let alone with Kakashi. She’d been through a war. She’s damn near died, multiple times, and she had saved people’s lives and held the ones she couldn’t save.

Yet people dared to treat the situation like Kakashi was dating a child, instead of an equal? So what if he had trained her, it’s not like he ever made a move on her? 

Hinata was right, she made the move on him.

“I knew what I wanted, even if I only got the courage to express it with a little encouragement from sake. At first.” Sakura crossed her arms. “But why do we have to justify our damn happiness?” 

The waitress walked up to get Hinata’s order after that. “What can I get for you today, miss?”

“I’ll have green tea and a rice ball, please,” Hinata spoke softly with a pleasant smile.

“Sure thing!” She flashed a smile at them before striding away to take care of the order.

Ino sipped her drink before shrugging in response to the question. “I thought you already know people talk about anything we do, no matter what. Especially when they’re jealous, and you have plenty of things to envy.” 

Sakura huffed before. “Yeah well, I didn’t get them without effort, and that especially includes Kakashi.”

The girls fell silent. Hinata and Ino could only say so much in attempts to make Sakura feel better. It’s not like you could ignore an issue when everywhere you went you were hearing whispers or receiving horrible glares sent in your direction.

The waitress brought Hinata’s order about and paused a moment. She looked like she wanted to say something, but seemed a bit nervous. She chewed her lip subtlety before looking at Sakura.

“Miss?” 

Sakura raised her eyes to make eye contact with her and gave a polite smile. “Yes?” 

“Is it true that you’re dating Kakashi now? 

Sakura nodded, her smile fading slightly in fear of some directly aimed judgment. She came here often with Kakashi, he used to bring the whole team here. 

“I just wanted to tell you I’m very happy for you guys. I’ve seen you guys together often, and sometimes I wondered if you were the one he bought the lattes for every so often. He’s come here for a long time, but he always seemed so…” She searched for the word for a moment. “Aloof. Always polite, but kept to himself.”

Sakura nodded softly. “He’s uh… He’s been through a lot, even more so than the average ninja.”

The girl gave a sad smile. “So I’ve heard. When he started bringing you and those boys here, he seemed to change. Like a spark in him ignited. Is it true that the blonde was his mentor’s son?”

Sakura’s smile turned a little less stiff as she nodded again. “The Fourth Hokage, yes.”

Hinata and Ino listened with small smiles, glad to see their friend getting some positivity towards her relationship from someone other than friends. Hinata’s face flushed slightly at the mention of Naruto as she thought of him distantly.

“I’m sorry about the things I’ve heard people say. Anyone who truly has been around you can see the chemistry you have, sometimes I wondered if you were secretly together. I have never seen him so relaxed around anyone besides you.” She smiled brightly. “He had friends of course, like those dashing men, Asuma and Genma. Or the….very lively Gai.” 

Ino wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know if I’d consider Asuma-sensei dashing.” She muttered softly under her breath.

Sakura's eyes widened softly. “Thank you… It’s nice to hear someone say something nice about it.” 

“Sakura, it’s almost the end of your lunch break isn’t it?” Hinata wondered aloud, catching the time on the clock. She gave a soft smile before 

“Oh, look at that, it’s the rank climbing whore with her flower bitch of a friend.” 

I guess that’s one way you could refer to Sakura and Ino, at least within the last month. She couldn’t imagine how upset Ino would be if she would only ever be remembered as her ‘flower bitch of a friend’. She would probably be remembered as Ino-Pig, and she hates that nickname.

She could attest to the fact that she hated being referred to as a ‘rank climbing whore”. Didn’t have to sleep with multiple men or do something dirty like have an afraid to fall under the description of whore? She had only just lost her virginity to Kakashi a month ago… 

She sighed and reminded herself that these women wouldn’t care to hear technicalities and that it would probably only antagonize them to carry on with more horrible accusations and scornful comments.

The waitress instantly frowned at the woman. “I can ask them to-”

Sakura shook her head. “It’s whatever, don’t scare off your business. Thank you for your kindness.”

Ino instantly slid her gaze towards the nasty tone, sending daggers. “Are you even acutely aware that Sakura was made a jounin almost three years ago?” She spat. “Pretty sure she only got with Kakashi roughly a month ago, now carry on with your trivial lives.”

Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes, hoping the sting that suddenly arrived would go away with them. “Right, I need to go back to work. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” She stood from the table and turned for the door.

“Oh, did I hurt your feelings? Are you gonna go run and tell mommy Hokage?”

Sakura’s eyes twitched as she started gathering chakra into her fists, ready to shut them up herself. How much disrespect could someone dare to have? Was this really out of pure jealousy?

She kept telling herself none of this was worth getting this upset over. She couldn’t figure out if she wanted to cry from the humiliation or punch them through the wall of the restaurant. She had never felt so ridiculed before, and it was infuriating. 

“I’ll bet my old student would be an easy target to get some action from when I was bored. Especially from emotional types like yourself. Just a few sweet words and you probably melted for him.” The other woman cackled.

Sakura bit her cheek before she left briskly, ignoring the shrieking she heard from Ino, or how Hinata tried to run after her. She felt stupid for letting those women get under her skin, but she couldn’t help it.

This is what people were saying? What else was there? Did she seem that naive, that her sensei could take advantage of her? She knew there would be talking about this, but she never expected those sorts of accusations. She expected disapproval and even some daunting glares. 

She went straight for her office and buried herself in the paperwork she had to catch up. It was a decent distraction. Verifying shinobi physicals, signing them with her approval. Later they would need to be given to Tsunade. She signed paperwork regarding the children’s clinic she was opening with Ino, mainly financial documents for the grants involved in the program. More paperwork was needed to be signed for hospital grants for unfortunate patients.

Kakashi was walking to the cenotaph, feigning ignorance to all the looks she was currently receiving from the majority of the people he passed. Many whispers went about. Mostly about wretched of a man he was, accusations of pedophilia and grooming. Some against Sakura for whoring herself into rank, which didn’t make even a lick of sense if you asked him, considering she was made jounin after the fourth great war. 

He sighed softly. There were much bigger issues now that these people couldn’t even begin to think about. If he ever thought that beginning a relationship with Sakura would have put her in danger, he wouldn’t have indulged in the idea no matter what, if it had meant she would have been safe.

Granted, it was starting to be believed by Tsunade that Sasuke was coming for her either way because he did Orochimaru’s bidding. And healing arms isn’t related to Sakura’s love life. Sasuke was bothered by the fact that Sakura was with somebody else, but was it that she moved on, or that she was with Kakashi in general? That was the question that was begging to be answered in his mind at the moment. No matter what, she would be safe. She might not have any special jutsu, but she had quite the punch with her chakra latent strength, so even in the event he wasn’t there, she believed in her to protect herself. Not to mention the three ANBU guarding her at all times, and he knew one of them was Genma, though she didn’t. 

His mind wandered a bit as he walked from the cenotaph to training ground three, the same one he always used with his beloved team. His thoughts were everywhere, mainly on just how happy he had felt. 

Nothing felt more right than when he laid in bed at night with Sakura in his arms. Her hair splayed about the pillow, her face buried against his bare chest. Her skin felt so soft against his, even with the few scars she held in comparison to his body. Listening to her breathe lulled him to sleep every time she spent the night at his home. She was so warm and inviting, and she always clung to him.

She still had nightmares. Sometimes she just trembled in her sleep, others he woke up to her sobbing into his shoulders or screaming his name with so much agony in her voice it ripped his heart out. He couldn’t imagine what she was seeing, he didn’t like to think of the ways Sasuke may have conjured up to murder him. He always held her close and tried to comfort her, but this had never been his strong suit. He stroked her hair and told her how much he loved her. It seemed to work well enough most nights, and he was glad because he didn’t know what else to do and it made him worry.

The copy ninja expected to find the training ground empty, but what he found was craters and cracks all over the landscape, along with uprooted trees. Usually, this is what you found when Sakura was training.

Or when she was coping with emotional stress which she has plenty of at the moment. 

Was it Sasuke, or has the ridicule finally reached her? His clenched as he thought of everything he has heard whispered the past few days or the actual direct comments. Mostly from jealous women, some from other jounin who didn’t know a lick about them.

He meandered along, following the scent trail of jasmine perfume, as well as listening for either the next impact or the sound of her voice. He followed it well into the woods of the grounds. It seemed the damage done lessened the further he went, which concerned him. It felt like the anger was fading and turning into something more morose. He moved faster through the forest, catching a glimpse of a porcelain mask he recognized. 

What he found was far from angry, at least now. She was kneeling on her knees, still in her hospital uniform. She was covered in dirt and green stains from nature she decided to take her stress out on. Her hands covered her face, covered in blood, dirt, and scrapes; the telltale sign she had been too far in her emotions to protect herself or even think about putting her gloves on. Her shoulders shook and as a choked sob escaped her throat, his heart just couldn’t take it anymore.

This wasn’t the first time he found her like this, and it wrenched him every time. But it was different this time because it felt like it was his fault to some degree. He never wanted to be part of something that could hurt her so deeply. 

He approached her slowly, giving her all the time to notice his presence. When he came up to her, he crouched down and ran his fingers through her messy hair, letting the pads of his fingers drag against her scalp. She shuddered softly but didn’t say anything. He slowly sat down behind her and slinked his arms around her waist to pull her back snug against his chest.

She tried to force herself to calm down in Kakashi’s presence, but it only seemed to worsen. She reminded herself he wouldn’t judge her, that he’s never judged her. Wasn’t that one of the things she loved most about him? She still felt so stupid for getting this upset over some stupid bigoted opinions, from people who didn’t know a damn thing about her and Kakashi. 

Then again, was that the only thing that hurt so much right now? It’s not like Sasuke hadn’t just kidnapped her best friend or threatened her team leader, that she just started dating. That Sasuke hadn’t shown her just how he might wish to make good on his threat to kill her lover.

The feeling of his fingers running through her hair made a shiver run through her and she let out a shaky breath. She felt him sit behind her and the safeness of his arms pull her close. Her chest hurt and swallowed another sob, still feeling this dumb need to act strong in front of him. If he had found her here, clearly he saw the damage she had dealt to the poor training ground before her anger morphed into pain. She turned her body into him and rested the side of her face against his chest. The silent tears soaked into his shirt but she couldn’t stop them. 

“Sakura…” 

She wiped her eyes hastily before the sob she’d been holding back ripped through her. The sound of his voice undid it and she was clinging to him desperately. 

“I’m here for you,” He placed a chaste peck on her forehead before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got you, Sakura. I always have, you know that.”

He held her tightly before beginning to stroke her hair. “I know there’s so much going on right now. This stuff with Sasuke, and the talk around the village. Your nightmares. It can’t be easy, on top of continuing to work full time.” 

The sound of his voice was a thread she clung to. Hearing the rumble in his chest when he talked, alongside his heartbeat gave her something to focus on that wasn’t Sasuke, or horrible gossip, or Kakashi being killed in some way or another. She took a long, deep breath. Everything felt so heavy. 

She had just wanted to be with the man she loved, and she finally got that. Why did all this other stuff have to happen? Right as things started to get better, a wrench had to come in it. She knew that she still was with Kakashi, and she had high doubts he was going to leave, but she just wanted to enjoy it.

“Sakura, it’s going to be okay…” 

He took her face into his hands and guided her to make eye contact with him. Her aqua hues were shining with tears that were still flowing down her cheeks. He wiped them gently and smiled softly at her. 

She huffed and slid her fingers into his mask, dragging it off his face. “Better.” She muttered under her breath. 

Kakashi chuckled softly before pecking her lips with his now bare ones. “Oh, I’m sure you think so. Just think, you’re the only one who gets to see me like this.” He held her tighter. “Who gets to have me like this, all to yourself.” He pecked her cheek.

“I know…” A small smile spread across her lips. “Ino keeps saying to ignore it, that they’re just jealous.”

“Hm, she may be on to something. I’m quite the looker.” 

She rolled her eyes before sniffing once more. “Oh yeah, if only they knew what was under the mask.” She huffed. “Maybe some of them do…” She grumbled.

He shook his head, chuckling at the clear jealousy coming off of her. “Oh no. Not a single one night stand had ever seen my face. They would try, no doubt.” He pinched her ass playfully. “Only medics, who usually were too busy looking at the life-threatening issue on my body, and close friends have seen my face.” He smirked as he whispered in her ear. “Some medics are much cuter than others, and I might have let them drag my mask down and kiss me when I was drunk.”

She raised an eyebrow at him before a smile broke out across her lips and she giggled. “Better only be one of those.”

He nodded sincerely before pecking her lips. “Now, you’re smiling again and able to talk. What lead you to wreak havoc on this sentimental training ground of ours, and then break down?”

She averted her eyes instantly, not willing to fully pull her face out of his hands when they were so warm against her tear-soaked skin. Great, now she’s going to look ridiculous.

“Do think they’re right? That I used you to climb rank?” She mumbled.

He frowned. “I think that no more correct than me being a pedophile, considering the last time I check you were twenty. People twist things as they want to make reality appeal to them.” 

“Ino said something similar. A bunch of women took offense that you found someone prettier, younger, and more talented. If they blame us, then their ego is still intact…” She almost laughed as she remembered another one. “Did you hear the one that I’m fucking my whole team?” 

Of course, she found the humor in that one. “Whoever started that rumor must be oblivious because you’ve chased Sai and Naruto through the village with your chakra fists of wrath.” He laughed before pressing his nose against hers. 

“Now, what is actually bothering you? Because I know that you don’t truly care about anyone thinks unless it our friends or Tsunade, who have all expressed happiness for us, with threats to my life if I hurt you here and there…” 

He was meant with silence.

He sighed. “I’m the one who taught you to look underneath the underneath, and I especially know you’re bothered by way more than some gossip we knew would come.”

Sakura sighed and hugged him tightly. “I can’t stand this. I’m being guarded like a dog, all because Sasuke suddenly decides I matter because his snakey sensei put it in his head he needs me. I think I liked it better before when he was cold towards us.” 

He ran a hand through her hair. “I know. But it’s best to keep you safe, and are you going to complain that you have to sleep with me at my house.”

She blushed lightly. “I gave no complaint about that part. More about this part.” She gestured her hands before pointing. 

“One.” In a tree a few yards back.

“Two.” Leaning against a tree in the opposite direction.

“Three.” Right above her in a tree. “Which I believe I learned is Genma, because awhile  a senbon just fell in front of me before a curse was muttered by that one.” 

Kakashi looked up, noting she was right, that one was Genma. Shame on him for losing his anonymity so easily, but it wasn’t like Sakura hadn’t known who most of the ANBU were from treating them anyway. It’s a given he was the only one brave enough to be that close to his fiery little pinkette when she was at such an emotional high. He never knew when to leave anyone alone. He was one of the only people other than Sakura that insisted on ‘being there for him’ when he was having bad days.

“I also hate that I used to feel safe at home, and now I’m paranoid. All the time. He made it into the village without anyone knowing, all the way into my office! And he got out with Ino the same way!” She looked at Kakashi with an annoyed look.

“That bastard could be watching me right now, and I’d have not a single fucking clue!” 

He didn’t know what to say to that. He felt all the same, except he was the one who had figured out he was in the village, and he hated the lack of action he had taken then. He should have done something right then and there. But he gave his former student too much credit. 

And that’s how he feels like this is all his fault. But saying that wouldn’t help her. There wasn’t much he could do to change what was done, but he’d be damned if something happened again.

“Let’s go home and get you cleaned up, okay? I bought you some books while you were at work before I came here.” 

She smiled softly. He always tried, no matter how hard he felt like comforting was. Whether he knew it or not, he always made her feel better. As he stood up and put his hand out for her to grab, she grasped it tightly as he pulled her up. She inched up on her tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss before his hands gripped her hips and held her there to kiss her back.

“Thank you, Kakashi.” She smiled softly before pecking his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably tear up all the training grounds, not just ours.”

She giggled softly. “Probably, but you didn’t have to say it.” 

He let go of her, just to grab her hand and start walking towards the end of the woods in the training ground. “Come on. Asuma and Kurenai said something going on a double date, and I think you might want to look a little less haggard for that.” He smiled.

She glared at him. “Haggard? That’s a bit extreme!” 

He chuckled as he dodged the fist he knew was becoming before he sensed it. “I love you, too.” He gave an eye crease as he pulled his mask back over the majority of his face.

“Hinata?” Naruto called out softly from his couch as he heard his door open.

“It’s me, Naruto!” She called back cheerily. 

“How was lunch with Sakura? Is she… Doing okay?” He asked timidly.

Hinata sighed. “She’s… doing alright. The gossip around the village bothers her but I don’t think that’s really it.” 

Naruto thought for a moment before sighing. “I don’t understand why he would do this. I thought his main goal in life was to gain power and kill Itachi, so what does Sakura have to do with that?” He grumbled. “She was so happy before all this. I just want to see her like that again.”

“Me, too,” Hinata said before sitting on the couch. “Ino said he acted possessive and jealous over the fact that she was with Kakashi. Do you think he’s always felt some way about her? Like maybe he’d come back for her once he killed his brother?”

Naruto frowned. “I think that’s what Sakura used to hope for, honestly. That he just had to do this one thing, and then he’d be able to come home. To love her, to be a family with our team. It’s what we all hoped for… in a sense. I think Kakashi was able to accept it sooner than we ever could that Sasuke was probably… never coming back.”

Hinata nodded, reaching over to grab his hand. “I know this is hard for both of you…” 

He just nodded as he continued to frown at the floor. “Whatever hopes those were, they were ruined. I’ll never believe he loved Sakura if he was willing to cause her so much pain, whether it was over jealousy or whatever.” 

“You should go train with your team some. It always helps me when I’m being bothered by something going on in life. I think it would be healthy for all of you.”

“You’re assuming that Sakura hasn’t gone and destroyed our favorite grounds yet.” A smile slowly spread across his lips. “Kakashi is the only one willing to go anywhere near her whenever she’s that upset. Sai and I prefer to stay far away from her chakra enhanced attacks.”

He thought for a while on that. It had always been that way. She and Kakashi were always there for the other. Just like most people left Kakashi alone when he was at the memorial, they left Sakura alone when she was destressing in training ground three. Yet, they both never left each other alone. He thought about how that’s what love is, what Sakura should get to experience. Not the way she felt for Sasuke, just this endless devotion with nothing in return. 

She deserved the way Hinata always made him feel, and hopefully how he wanted to make her feel in return. A relationship with trust, admiration, sincereness, and respect was what anyone deserved. He wanted that for Sakura, and he still believed that Kakashi was where she got that from. He had never seen anyone look so happy as they did when they finally got together.

It was so hard not to preach at anyone that said so many ill things about his two teammates within his earshot. It angered him to see their happiness brought down the way people were judging them. Granny Tsunade already warned him it would do no good, but he knew if someone dared say something bad about Sakura close to her, a chakra infused from the Hokage herself was coming their way. So why couldn’t they get mouth load from him?  Seemed unfair if you asked him, but he wasn’t in the mood to anger her with arguing.

“Kurenai-sensei and Asuma-sensei were planning a double date with them. I think they are trying to make Sakura feel better about the...dissent around the village.”

“Maybe that’ll be good for her. I don’t understand what the deal is anyway, I mean so what, he was our teacher? We’ve been in equal rank with him for almost three years now. And I couldn’t give a damn about some age difference when she could die tomorrow at 20 years old. Any of us could, right? We’re adults. It’s not like we’re kids anymore.” He huffed in annoyance.

Hinata sighed softly. “Just because we see it that way, doesn’t mean other people do. However, I’ve noticed most of the people spreading the rumors are women that wanted Kakashi themself. Ino said they’ll blame them to keep their ego intact.”

Naruto raised his eyebrows. “So basically a bunch of women Kakashi’s age is mad because he hardly gave them anything past a one-night stand. And that’s they were one of the lucky ones in the last decade, and now he’s with Sakura, who is youngers, prettier, and probably ten times the kunoichi they ever would have been…?”

Hinata giggled softly. “Yes, pretty much Ino’s exact words. Like typical, they’re putting down our friends to make themselves feel better.”

“Leaf shinobi are supposed to be better than that.” He grumbled before getting up from the couch. 

“Not everyone has the same ideals as you, Naruto. But your ideals are one of the things I love about you, that so many people love about you, and why you’ve inspired many others. It’s one of the reasons why one day you will make a great Hokage.” 

He smiled. “You believe in me, don’t you?” 

“I always believed in you, even when I didn’t believe in myself.” She smiled tentatively.

He pulled her up by the grip he still held on her hand before kissing her softly, winding his arms around her hips. “I love you, Hinata,” He mumbled against her lips, pulling her against him.

She smiled before pulling away. “I love you, too.” 

“Maybe we should plan a double date with them. That’d be awesome, wouldn’t it?” He grinned at her before pressing his forehead against hers.

“I think it's a good idea, and I’m sure they would enjoy it too.”

Kakashi brought Sakura a cup of tea and sat down next to her, handing her the hot drink of peppermint. She took it from him, instantly taking a sip from the cup.

He watched her closely. She was curled against the arm of his couch with her knees against her chest. Her pink strands just barely fell around her shoulders, perfectly framing her face. Her face was still stained with tears, but she had changed into one of his shirts and a pair of her shorts she had brought here. She seemed a little more relaxed, not so overwhelmed by the anger and pain. He could still sense how uneasy she felt, and he just wanted to make her day better. He hoped the dinner with Kurenai and Asuma would help lift her spirits some, a positive in all the negatives.

He loved her so much, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. He’d heard everything the village had to say, some of the things he had once thought about himself. That he had been disgusting. He hated himself for it. 

But now, he couldn’t think of life without her. Without being able to hold her at night, or to kiss her. Without being able to see the way she smiled whenever he told her he loved her. The warmth she held for him in her beautiful green eyes whenever she looked at him. He didn’t want to think of a day when his bed no longer had the faint smell of her jasmine perfume. 

“Kakashi…?” Her voice sounded soft and hesitant.

It pulled him from his thoughts instantly. “What is it?” He asked softly, looking up to meet her eyes.

“You’ve got that distant look you get when you’re thinking about something sad…” She set her tea down on the coffee table.

He tried to smile lightly to shake off her concern. “I’m okay, it’s nothing.” 

She rolled her eyes before shifting over to his side of the couch. “Okay, sure. I’ll pretend to believe that. Now lay down...”

He shifted so that he was laying on his back, and watched her curiously as she crawled over his body. She laid between his legs, resting her cheek against his chest. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable before wrapping an arm around her back. She let out a contented sigh before closing her eyes.

He ran his free hand through her hair gently as a smile spread across his lips. He kissed the top of her head. “If you wanted to cuddle, you could have just said so.” He spoke softly, a little surprised she had demanded affection. 

He thought she might get distant from him, too bothered by some of the things people dared to say, maybe even think they were true. He should have known she wouldn’t believe them for a second, but it didn’t stop him from preparing for the worst. He played with the ends of her hair, twirling the strands loosely around his fingertips. Her body felt warm against his, and it was a comfort he never realized he needed until the first time he held her so intimately.

“Does any of this gossip bother you at all?” She wondered aloud. 

Her voice sounded so small to him. It was rare she sounded so unsure. She was usually so confident these days. He wasn’t surprised to see that it bothered her, even if she felt it was stupid. He knew what was going to happen when everyone found out, but it didn’t mean he liked it or that it didn’t bother him. He used to listen to all the things that were said about his father, so the village dissent wasn’t new to him. Minato had urged to learn to ignore it long ago, but it did seem more difficult to ignore these, at least the parts where he was accused of some things he couldn’t even dream of.

“Some of it does…” He sighed. “I can’t act like people just assuming I’ve always had a thing for you doesn’t upset me. I also fear that you might feel they’re right, and it’s not true.” He tightened his arm that had been around her. 

He tried to figure out what to say that didn’t seem accusatory, but also still be honest with her about his concerns.“I don’t care what they think, but I worry about how what people say will affect you, and your view of me…” 

He watched her closely as she lifted her head to look at him. “I love you, and nothing anyone says will make me think any different of you. I just hate… It angers me that they just instantly assume you’re this gross creep when it was ME who initiated this relationship.”

She huffed before resting her chin against his chest. “If anyone should have ever felt harassed, it was you… But no, they just automatically assume you’re just this lecherous man that groomed me from the time I was twelve.”

“Well, I do read porn in public, so people have the right to believe I’m lecherous…” He smirked. “Not everyone knows it had some real plot to it, or care to know.” He brought a hand to her cheek and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “Just like they won’t care to know the real story behind us…”

She was looking into his eyes, at his face, before she bit her lip. “So, you don’t think I just used you and clung around you to climb the ranks as some of the women are saying?”

He scoffed. “Don’t tell me some jealous sluts are making you doubt your real abilities as a kunoichi? How would you have ever charmed me into giving you jonin rank? I was tough on you guys, not to mention I’m not the one to credit for your abilities.” He kissed her nose and then her Byakugou seal. “Tsunade is to credit for all your skills, not me. I’m not even the one who gave you the recommendation. I wasn’t allowed to be a proctor for your exam either, because you were my student and it leads to bias- negative or positive.” 

He pushed some of her hair out of her eyes again before smiling at her. “You earned jonin, and I’m damned proud of you for it. The other jonin kunoichis are just pissed because you’re better than them and they know it.”

“Mmmm, and maybe because I have Konoha’s number one bachelor all to myself?” She grinned, blushing softly at his words.

“Well, of course. Thank gosh, because the ‘hot-ake’ pickup lines at bars were becoming rather boring. And now, when a girl doesn’t know how to take a hint, I can just ask her if she likes chakra punches for a drink?” 

Sakura burst into laughter, burying her face into his chest. “Oh, yeah, that’ll make a great reputation for us to have.”

He sat up, taking her into his arms. “Team Seven already has quite the rep, I doubt that’ll change. Now, go shower for that dinner with Asuma and Kurenai. It’s my job to make us late, not yours, remember?” He carried his slender pinkette into the bathroom and set her on the edge of the sink.

She was beaming at him as she placed her hands on each side of his face. “I love you so, so much, Kakashi.” 

He gazed into her eyes, thankful for the happy glow returning to them. “I love you, too, Sakura. I always will…” He gave her lips a quick peck.

As he stepped back, she slid off the bathroom sink counter until her feet were on the floor. She began to strip before her eyes widened with sudden realization. “What the hell am I supposed to wear to this dinner on such short notice?”

“Oh, I got that covered. Dress in the bedroom. I hope you like it…” He gave a sheepish smile before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

He chuckled at the tinge of pink that spread across her cheeks. He wasn’t sure how that was worth blushing over, considering all the other things they’d done lately. He picked up her teacup from earlier and walked into the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink for later. When the shower turned on, he moved onto the bedroom, gathering up things he had grabbed from her house while she was at work.

He’d seen her go out in various settings enough in the past few years to know that his favorite person took care to do her hair and makeup. He had grabbed her makeup box, along with both her straightener and curler. He almost forgot the hair dryer at her house but had turned around at the door to get it. He wasn’t exactly sure what shoes she would want to wear. Looking back on past conversations he had overheard, this was supposedly a difficult task, according to Ino. He just grabbed the black, ankle high boots that had a buckle(which he realized was just for looks), and a small heel. Surely, those went with anything, right? Hopefully.

He grabbed a few more things before taking them back to the bathroom. He hung the dress up on the towel rack, as well as some underclothing he bought for his own eyes later. He looked around the bathroom. Never once had it ever felt small to him, but now he was wondering where the hell he was going to put three new additions. Did women need both a straightener and a curler?

“I think I’ll need to invest in shelves if you’re gonna be here forever.” He said in mock annoyance.

“I’m using your razor, just in case your mind, but it’s too late if you do…” Sakura said languidly, clearly paying more attention to her legs at the moment. “And what are you talking about?” 

“You’ll see.” He smiled before pulling the shower curtain aside. “Your lotion is on the sink when you’re done. If you need my help, I’ll gladly lather your legs with it for you.” He gave a wink before leaving again. 

“Oh god, we’d never make it dinner if I let you do that.” She mumbled affectionately as she finished the last stroke up her leg.

He stared blankly at the curtain once it was closed, wondering just how the hell Kakashi knew what lotion she even used. She shrugged it off, not putting it past him to look rather odd sniffing random lotions in the store until he found a scent he recognized. The thought made her heave with laughter as she rinsed the excess shaving cream off her legs. 

She stepped out of the shower, and her mouth fell open in her surprise. She quickly realized what he meant by needing to get shelves, as there was nowhere to put all her hair tools besides the straightener on the sink, hair dryer on the back of the toilet, and the curler on top of his medicine cabinet. Her lotion, which was the same bottle from her house, was sitting next to the cup that held his toothbrush. 

She grabbed the towel on the hanger, to see the dress hanging there, and her heart was full. 

It was a dark emerald green a-line dress. It had a sheer lace overlay that had floral patterns stitched into it. The lace continued over the chest into long sleeves, completely see through around her shoulders and arms, the solid colors would frame her chest. It was so dressy but simple all at once. Pretty but not too much, it was perfect. 

And then there was the navy blue lingerie set next to it that just made her turn rosy-colored all over again as she started to dry herself off even quicker.

“Kakashi, you bought lingerie?!” She screeched in embarrassment. 

 He laughed, having finally heard the response he had expected. “Sakura, I buy porn in public, I don’t think buying lingerie for you is that shocking.” He came into the bathroom. “I also noticed you were severely lacking any.”

She huffed and pouted in his direction. “Oh yes, because I had so much reason to wear it.” 

He raised an eyebrow in her direction in surprise. “You don’t need a ‘reason’ to wear hot things.” He stepped behind her and reached for the garments. 

He held them to her form as he spoke against her ear. “This navy will look stunning against your smooth and light toned skin. It’s strapless, so it won’t show through the sheerness of your dress. The woman said this lace is comfortable. And I honestly just wanted to see your ass in thongs. I am a pervert afterall.” He kissed the side of her head. “I’ll hook the clips for you if you’d like.

Sakura stared down at the blue fabric. She’d seen plenty of Ino’s lingerie, having been made to help her blonde rival choose which to wear on particular occasions. She had never felt the need to buy any. Ino seemed to only wear it on dates, and she never even bothered with those. Not to mention, it’s not like she even had all that much to show off. She bit the inside of her cheek before turning to face Kakashi. “Uh… Sure.” 

He frowned. “Is something wrong? You don’t have to wear it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“N-No! It’s not that. I love them, I just… don’t have the body for it.”

Kakashi looked at her dumbly for a moment before turning her body to face him. “Sakura, I promise you, you do. If you didn’t have the body for it, they wouldn’t make your size, which I had to ask Ino for before you ask.”

“Oh, god! I’ll never hear the end of how romantic or hot or whatever it is that you bought me underwear that...might feel slightly more appealing than cotton.”

“Much more appealing than cotton.” He corrected her with a smirk before tilting her chin up and kissing her.

She returned the kiss before pulling back. “Okay, fine. Much more appealing. Now, get out so I can get ready. Your lips are way too enticing.”

“My kisses or the fact you can see them in general now, hm?” He teased.

Damn him.

“Both, now go before we’re late! You have to get ready too, don’t you?” She playfully pushed him towards the door.

“I won’t take anywhere near as long as you.” He shot back as she effectively pushed him from the bathroom.

When he heard the hair dryer turn on, he looked at the time and realized maybe he should start getting ready. He lazily walked back to his room. He pushed through the hangers that had old, worn out ANBU uniforms hung on them. He wondered if they would ever be used again. He found the smoky gray long sleeve button shirt he had been looking for. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even worn this shirt. He vaguely wondered if it had been the funeral service for Jiraiya. 

He stripped down to his boxers before grabbing the black slacks on the hanger behind the shirt and slipping them over his form. He grabbed the shirt and the tie, laying them over the bed.  He pulled a white t-shirt from the drawer and pulled it over his lithe form. He grabbed the button up and slid his arms through the sleeves. He buttoned it up to the top, leaving it open. He glanced at the tie, debating if it was necessary to wear. He tucked his shirt and buttoned the pants. He adjusted everything until it felt comfortable and wasn’t pulling one way or another. He grabbed the dress shoes from the floor of his closet, and her boots before walking back to the living room. 

She came out of the bathroom to see Kakashi folding up the sleeves on his shirt, which was a much hotter sight than she thought it could have been. She smiled lightly before sitting down next to him.

“Thank you for the clothes… And bringing all that from home.” She spoke softly. 

He nodded as he looked over, finding her as beautiful as always. The dress had gone to the middle of her thighs. He could see the difference in her wearing the bra instead of wrappings in her chest which was an appreciative sight he hoped for. She had put on some shimmery gold shadow and smooth liner along her lashes that ended with a small wing. Her lips were tinted pink and shined with gloss. 

She looked gorgeous.

“Nobody would ever think you were kunoichi if they didn’t know the only pink haired person in Konoha was none other than my lovely Sakura Haruno.” He smiled before kissing her cheek. “That dress looks way better actually on you than it ever did on a hanger.”

She smiled before leaning against him. “I like it. I’m kind of excited to go on a double date with them. It’ll be fun, right?” 

He cracked a half smile. “I’m sure you’ll make it fun.” 

She smiled before slipping the shoes and standing up. “Well, let’s go!”

She was brimming with excitement. She couldn’t remember the last time she had even worn makeup, let alone fully dressed up. She grabbed Kakashi’s hand as soon as they got outside of the apartment complex, and had not let go of it since. The subtle click of her heels as she glided through the streets to the park they were supposed to meet their friends at was enough to draw everyone’s attention to them.

He followed her idly, almost being dragged as she insisted on walking so much faster than he ever did. The way her eyes shined with happiness, and the way the light from the streetlamps caught the glitter in her shadow, was mesmerizing to Kakashi. She didn’t look like that for anyone, but she had done all that for him. He never thought she needed makeup, but the gold went well with her eye color. 

She didn’t seem to notice anyone looking at them as they walked together. When she looked back at him, all he saw was pure love and joy, and it made his heart clench. That’s all he ever wanted to give her, no matter what. 

“You look beautiful, Sakura…” He gave an eye crease and squeezed her hand lightly. 

A light blush dusted her cheeks before she looked away and walked to the gate of the park. Asuma and Kurenai were already there. 

“Hey, guys!” She grinned. 

“What do you know, Kakashi did wear something other than the jounin uniform.” Asuma said in a defeated tone. “I guess I owe Genma twenty bucks now.”

“I told you.” Kurenai said as she rolled her eyes.

“I still can’t believe he’s with her, of all women.”

Another woman sighed in annoyance. “Clearly, you don’t know what life is like as a ninja. Sakura is one of the most caring people in the village, and that vet was her sensei but only for a short time, she was mainly trained by Lady Tsunade.”

“She’s a child!”

Sakura turned her head towards the conversing women, surprised to see someone she didn’t know defending them. Curiosity shone in her eyes, and she felt Kakashi pull her towards him, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about any of that tonight.” He murmured into her ear. “I’m not having some random opinionated people ruin your excitement.” 

She turned to him and smiled. “You’re right, I guess.”

“Kurenai said the women are being more brutal about this than they were when we started dating.” Asuma chuckled.

Kakashi scoffed. “Oh, trust me. I’ve heard enough for a lifetime, and it’s not even the only scorn I’ve dealt with, however, it’s for sure the worst.”

Sakura leaned up and kissed his mask cheek, leaving a slightly sparkled spot on the fabric. “Blame Naruto for convincing us to confess.” She giggled. 

He looked down at her before sliding his hand down to rest on her hip. “Sure, why not. But I don’t regret it either way.”

They walked alongside their friends into one of the fancier restaurants and sat down in a booth. They chatted idly for a while about anything and everything. Kakashi mostly watched Sakura, just happy to see her smiling nonstop. Happy to think it was things he did that made her smile and feel so happy. 

He watched her lips as she talked, starting to understand a little bit why she wore the lipstick in the first place. She always had pinker lips, but the red made them more prominent and seemed to demand his attention. He moved his hand to rest on her thigh, a bit surprised by how warm her skin was. 

“Wait for a second, you don’t even know who the ANBU that are assigned to guard you are? I mean I know anonymity is their thing, but usually, in guarding situations, at least the person being guarded knows?” Kurenai shook her head in disbelief.

Sakura shrugged. “I wasn’t told. It must not be that dire to hide who they are, because I doubt Genma would be careless enough to accidentally drop a senbon in front of my face.”

“The other two don’t know you outside of being Tsunade’s apprentice, my former student, and now my lover who is being threatened by a missing nin who was formerly your teammate.” Kakashi said lazily as he blinked a few times to focus back on the conversation.

“In other words, they probably don’t see a reason to reveal who they are if they don’t already know you.” Asuma affirmed.

“I picked who was watching you. I would have preferred Tenzou and Genma, but he’s still on our team and not with ANBU anymore. So just Genma will do, but I trained the others myself. They also think I’m a pervert.” He gave an eye crease.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Overprotective? I’m pretty sure Shishou would have chosen decent candidates. I’m almost her daughter, according to Shizune. And that’s because everyone knows you are one.”

“Nope. She asked me to choose.”

“Ino keeps insisting the ANBU watch you guys fuck, and I insisted that there’s still privacy in guarding, especially when the last person she is getting guarded against is Kakashi, contrary to some of the villager beliefs here.” He added with a chuckle. “However, now that you mention Genma is there, I have some serious doubts.”

Sakura’s complexion instantly heated up into a cherry shade. “You don’t actually think-”

“Shizune threatened before I did, apparently.” Kakashi said with a chuckle.

Sakura stirred her miso soup a little more before taking another bite. “I sure hope it worked.” She mumbled.

She thought loosely about this moment, just out on a date with their friends. She had always wanted something like this. Just comfortable and genuine, just love. His hand on her thigh was surprising at first, but comforting. She didn’t miss the gazes that were pointed toward their table, or how people whispered, but she forced herself to focus on the date. 

Which wasn’t that hard as she kept stealing glances at Kakashi dressed more casually. She definitely could get used to him wearing clothes that fit his form a little snug compared to the standard jounin garb. She enjoyed the way the fabric moved over his well-toned figure but was still loose enough to only just barely give an outline of the muscles that flex under it.

She felt Kakashi’s hand slowly moving across his thigh, and she dared to glance at his face, which looked perfectly normal, and nothing like he was stroking her skin under the table. She gulped as she crossed her legs over his hand in an attempt to hide it from others. His fingers felt cool against her heated skin, and she was trying to fight off the building arousal. He only squeezed her thigh in response which led to her stifling what would have been a small moan. 

It was awfully hard to focus on anything people could have been whispering about them when she was trying to keep control of her pleasure, and she wondered if that was his goal. Or if he was just being the pervert he was and enjoying toying with her, having known how sensitive she is to even only his touch. Judging by the imprint of a smirk under his mask she could see if she squinted, it was probably both.

“I don’t think even Genma is stupid enough to test Kakashi on that matter.” Kurenai flashed a comforting grin. “So, how did you two finally figure out you both loved each other?”

Sakura smiled in return. “Well, drunk us shared a kiss, but he got all “this isn’t right” and I told Hinata about it a couple of days later.” 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “Naruto came to my apartment ready to beat the breaks off of me because she didn’t just tell Hinata, she sobbed to her about it.” He corrected her as he removed his hand from her thigh, letting his fingers slowly slide off her skin.

She shivered slightly before huffing with a pout. “I’m sensitive.”

“Oh, I know.” He gave her an eye crease. “I tell Naruto I love her and some other sappy shit, and he tries to convince me to tell her but I won’t. And he ended up convincing her to tell me.” He pulled her against his side and brushed his lips against her temple. “And now here we are.”

“Is this part where you skip me finding you two together?” Asuma asked with a knowing grin.

“I had suspected you had some type of feelings for her before the bar. I knew she did because she never smiled as much as she did around you. After the way you threatened the guy at the bar, I was for sure about you.” 

“Now just what made me so obvious?” Kakashi furrowed his eyebrows.

“You, well you with three careens of sake in his system, acted more like a jealous boyfriend as opposed to a protective team leader. Right down to openly wrapping your arm around her waist and stroking her hip.” Asuma deadpanned as if that was a stupid question.

Sakura’s cheeks dusted pink once again. “Ah, so that part didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else like I thought it had…” Her voice was quiet and timid as she felt Kakashi rubbing her hip through the fabric of the dress in the same manner as the night before. 

Kurenai laughed softly. “Kakashi hardly ever got involved with women, so when he does we pay close attention. Anko was the first to point out that he was way more touchy with you than any other one before.”

“Wait, really?” Sakura asked as her curiosity became peaked before amusement shone in her eyes. “Well, no wonder why every freaking woman in the town hates my existence right. now.”

Kurenai and Asuma both laughed at her amusement at that new fact. Their plates were about finished and it was seeming to be the end of the night out. They all said their goodbyes before heading back home for the night. 

The whole walk home, she couldn’t help but wonder how Kakashi was rumored to be phenomenal in bed. Well for her it was far from a rumor now. But how did he have that when he didn’t want to be touchy with the women? He would touch and stroke and kiss every inch of her body whenever they made love, and she couldn’t picture him being any other way. It seemed like it was half the fun for her. Then again, she’d never had sex before Kakashi, let alone casual sex. Maybe that was the difference?

[cheemerthelizard]

Crusader of Life 2: Chapter 17

Kakyoin dragged his feet along the pavement, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. He kept thinking if he took a walk, then Lily would appear back in their hotel room, asking why he had such a long face. Even after the girl in the ghost alley (Reimi, wasn’t it?) confirmed that she saw his wife ascend up with the same wound that she was cursed with, he couldn’t believe it. I told her I had a bad feeling didn’t I? he thought. I begged her to stay home. She promised me she’d come back alive.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Koichi just across the street from him, who couldn’t help but look on with a twinge of pity.

“Mr. Kakyoin,” Koichi said as he crossed the street. “What are you doing? I haven’t seen you for days.”

Kakyoin looked beside him, then sighed. “I guess a part of me is still holding on to the hope that Lily is somehow alive.”

Koichi nodded. “I miss her, too,” he replied, but quickly added, “O-of course, I don’t miss her as much as you, but she still m-meant something to me.”

“I know what you meant,” Kakyoin answered, almost deadpan.

Geez, Koichi thought, losing a loved one really sucks the life out of you.

“You know, the Speedwagon Foundation shouldn’t be forcing you to work after you just lost your wife,” Koichi stated, in attempts to strike a conversation again. Maybe he was being too pushy, though.

“I’m not working,” Kakyoin told him, still emotionless. “They gave me some time off. I’m just walking around town.”

“Oh,” Koichi mumbled. “Sorry.” He started to walk away, until he saw a familiar face walking up the same way him and Kakyoin were.

“Mr. Jotaro!”

Kakyoin turned his head to face his old friend, who looked straight into his eyes with that infamous expression that couldn’t be deciphered.

“I think I’m getting close to finding the man who killed Lily,” Jotaro told him. “It was mere coincidence that I was traveling this way, but I thought you might want to join me.”

Koichi could practically feel the air around him change as Jotaro mentioned Lily. Kakyoin’s expression didn’t change much, but his eyes had a strange spark in them, and his teeth clenched together.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

Jotaro nodded, then continued down the path. Both Kakyoin and Koichi followed suit.

“How do you know you’re close?” Kakyoin asked Jotaro.

“Well, for one, I’ve checked every other clothing repair shop, and this is the last one, so if it’s not here, then there’s not much we can do. But I guarantee our killer will want his jacket button fixed,” Jotaro answered.

Kakyoin accepted that answer, and continued walking in silence. His frown was hiding his gritted teeth, and his pockets were hiding his clenched fists, so tight he could feel his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands.

Breaking the news to Kakyoin wasn’t easy. In fact, Jotaro found it was almost as hard as facing Dio. Three days later, and the scene still played through his head:

He stared at the door, taking deep breaths. Although he volunteered to tell Kakyoin to spare the others, who were still just kids, from having to deal with his close friend’s heartbreak, it didn’t make it any easier on him.

The heavy knock was sure to alert Kakyoin. Hopefully, Emily was asleep. Jotaro could handle telling the man by a small thread, but that man’s two-year-old he absolutely could not.

“Jotaro?” Kakyoin said as the door opened. “This is a surprise. What’s so important you stopped by midday to tell me?”

No, he couldn’t do this. Kakyoin didn’t deserve the crushing weight of death on his shoulders.

But he also deserved to know.

“It’s about Lily,” Jotaro started. Kakyoin gasped.

“Is she hurt?” he asked. “In the hospital? Will she be okay?”

“She… she won’t be okay,” Jotaro tilted his hat down, although it didn’t stop a tear from running down his cheek. “She died.”

It was almost like Jotaro could feel Kakyoin’s heart shatter with that gasp. Looking above the brim of his hat, he could see his best friend trying to remain calm in front of him.

“Lily… she… she can’t be dead!” Kakyoin protested. “Ace of Pentacles can save her!”

“It was sudden,” Jotaro explained. “The enemy killed her instantly. It happened so fast we didn’t have time to see her die.”

Maybe the last parts were a little bit of overkill. He could see it in Kakyoin’s bloodshot eyes as his breathing became short and staggered.

“I’m sorry,” Jotaro murmured. “There was nothing any of us could have done.”

Kakyoin would never forget Jotaro’s sudden somberness, signifying something was wrong the moment their eyes locked. Even now, there was no body to prove Lily was dead, and although he trusted Jotaro’s words with his life, there was nothing to prove that Lily couldn’t come back, limping if she had to, into his arms again. Until then, he would make sure her killer would pay, and pay dearly.

“This is the place,” Jotaro announced. “The only place that repairs jackets that I haven’t checked yet.”

Before Jotaro could lay a hand on the doorknob, Kakyoin ran up and took his place, making sure he was first to enter the store.

“Ah, new customers!” the store owner said as his head perked up from the chime of the bell. “Welcome!”

“We need you to locate the jacket this button fell off of,” Kakyoin ordered. He slammed the button on the desk, and Jotaro gasped. When did Kakyoin take the button from his pocket?

“Well, this is a peculiar request,” the owner mumbled to himself.

“It’s urgent,” Kakyoin added.

As the owner observed the button, he quietly hummed. “It does look similar to the buttons on this jacket,” he replied as he pointed over to a light purple suit.

Bingo! “What’s the name of the one who brought it in?”

“He might not remember that, Kakyoin,” Jotaro said.

“Are you saying I don’t remember my customer’s names?” the store owner remarked. “I remember the name of everyone who’s ever come here!”

“Then what’s his name?” Kakyoin asked.

“It’s…” the owner paused. “His name is… don’t think I don’t remember that man’s name,” he said. “It’s just easier to check.” He walked over to the jacket, reading the name. “Ah, yes. His name is…”

Before he finished, a small, teal tank with a skull on the front crawled up on his shoulder.

“Look over here,” it said.

To no one’s surprise, the owner didn’t hear it. Non-Stand users can’t hear Stands. However, he did feel the tank rolling on his shoulder. His head turned, and the tank jumped into his mouth.

Behind the door, Kira smiled to himself. Hopefully, everything would go as planned.

“This wasn’t anything like the way Lily died, was it?” Kakyoin asked.

“Not a chance,” Jotaro answered. “When we looked back, there was nothing.”

“Mr. Jotaro, Mr. Kakyoin, look!” Koichi exclaimed. While the two men were talking, a hand from behind the door was pulling on the jacket of their killer.

“That must be him,” Kakyoin muttered. His teeth gritted harder than ever. However, unlike Koichi, who ran towards the man behind the door before Jotaro stopped him, Kakyoin knew that this was most likely a trap.

Kira hmphed to himself. Looks like he’ll need a little extra boost to run over Sheer Heart Attack, he thought to himself. Sighing, he dug through his pocket, then tossed the hand in there to the floor, just enough to be seen, but close enough that he could bend down to get it.

That did it. Kakyoin’s fury reached its limit. As soon as he laid eyes on Lily’s severed hand, nothing else mattered. His entire train of thought was clouded with one thought: The murderer had Lily’s hand.

“Kakyoin, it’s a trap!” Jotaro shouted.

“I don’t care if it’s a trap!” Kakyoin snapped. “He’ll pay in Hell for what he’s done!”

Before Jotaro could stop him, Kakyoin started running. Behind the door, Kira smirked. And now, I’ve got you where I want you, he thought to himself.

As Kakyoin ran over the strange, tank-looking thing, it suddenly exploded, right underneath him. The explosion practically blew his legs off, shattered his eardrums, and made him dive headfirst into the wall. When Jotaro and Koichi looked back, he was limply laying on the floor.

“M-Mr. Kakyoin?” Koichi asked. “Mr. Kakyoin! Wake up!”

“We don’t have time to focus on him, Koichi,” Jotaro said.

“He’s your friend!” Koichi exclaimed. “Why wouldn’t you help your friend?”

“He is my friend, but the enemy isn’t attacking him right now!” Jotaro replied. “Right now, that Stand is attacking you!”

***

Kakyoin awoke in a meadow, laying on the grass. Why he was here, only God knew. He slowly rose up to stand, careful not to squash any of the beautiful flowers around him. The birds all across the sky seemed to be flying one way, not in fear of anything, but in admiration of what was ahead. Curious, Kakyoin followed, sensing a presence of something calming as he approached. He saw the glowing aura before he saw the actual presence, but he knew instantly who it was. Standing on the top of a hill, with wings of an angel, was the comforting face of his wife.

“Lily?” Kakyoin asked. The wings fluttered a bit as the angel turned around.

“Noriaki?” Lily asked back. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same question,” Kakyoin replied, his mouth forming into a smile.

“This is the gate to Heaven,” Lily answered. “And I’m here to cast judgement on those who’ve died that have been close to me.”

It took a while, but when Kakyoin connected the dots with Lily’s words, he gasped. “I’m dead?”

“It seems to be that way,” Lily nodded. “So, since I’m the closest one to you, I’m here to pass judgement to see if you reach Heaven or Hell.”

Kakyoin nodded in acknowledgement. For some reason, he was very calm at the moment, despite the fact that this judgement would decide his eternal resting place. That, and he had to leave everyone on earth behind, no matter what, including his daughter.

“Now then,” Lily lifted up a piece of paper to her eyes. “Well, what do you know? There’s only one question! Did you give the ones closest to you all love you could?”

Kakyoin almost scoffed at this question, but decided that wouldn’t be very helpful in his judgement. “Yes, of course!” he answered, confidently and honestly.

“You gave Emily all the love you could?”

“Especially her.”

“You gave me all the love you could?”

“I gave you the most out of anyone else!” Kakyoin almost started to cry, from Lily’s disbelief in him or the fact that her face was tangible again, he wasn’t sure.

“Then why didn’t you save me?”

Kakyoin froze. Why didn’t he save her? There was nothing he could do! At least, that’s what he was told by everyone. His inner thoughts said otherwise, but he blocked those out as best as he could.

“Why didn’t you save me, Kakyoin?”

The ground underneath started to rumble. “Why did you call me by my last name?” Kakyoin asked.

“Because you’re so covered in sin I don’t even want to be associated with you. Why am I here, dead, when I had a child to take care of, and more Speedwagon Foundation cases to solve, when you could have saved my life by forcing me not to go out that day and stay with Emily?”

“I didn’t want you to think that I wanted to rule this family with an iron fist!” Kakyoin protested as a crack formed underneath his feet. “It’s not fair to you to force you to do anything!”

“It was a test!” Lily’s voice suddenly became harsh and angry. “If you had really loved me enough, you would have forced me to stay inside and not walk into my impending doom!”

“Lily, please!” Kakyoin cried. He was holding on to the edge of the grass with his fingers on just his left hand. “Just give me a second chance, and I’ll prove I can change it with Emily!”

Lily walked up to her struggling husband, giving him a glare he’d only seen her give to Dio.

“Enjoy your stay in Hell, Kakyoin.”

Lily stomped on Kakyoin’s fingers, forcing him to let go of the ground and fall into the fiery abyss below. The whole way down, she offered not even the slightest ounce of remorse for him.

And, as he was falling down, Kakyoin suddenly jerked up from bed, breathing quickly. He was back in bed, in a dark room. His room. Not the hotel bedroom in Morioh, but the room in his and Lily’s house. Was Morioh all just a dream?

“Bad dream, Noriaki?” Lily asked groggily. It took everything in Kakyoin not to hold her tightly in his arms, tight enough that it was sure to suffocate her.

“I’ll say,” he answered instead. “It was extremely vivid, and it featured another Joestar, an illegitimate child of Joseph. I’ll tell you all the details later, but the important part is that you had died.”

“That does sound like a bad dream,” Lily got up from her pillow, turning to the man beside her.

Something was terribly wrong.

Lily’s corpse was talking to Kakyoin, with dry, sickly grey skin. She didn’t have any eyes or teeth, leaving a void where the missing parts were. She lifted up her hand, her bony, skinny hand, and placed it on Kakyoin’s shoulder. It was ice cold. “It’s a good thing that none of it is real, right?”

The sight was too scary to look away from. Kakyoin was frozen, unable to scream or even breathe.

“What’s wrong, Noriaki?” Lily’s corpse asked. “It’s me. I’m here.” The jaw fell off of her face and onto the floor.

Suddenly, a scream came from Emily’s room. A scream that she never used unless she was in severe pain, like the time she fell off her bike while it was speeding down a hill. The worry for his daughter overtook Kakyoin’s terror at the sight of his wife as he ran to her room to see what was the matter. As soon as he burst open the door, he saw a familiar figure in the corner of the room, standing over Emily as blood poured out of her skull.

“Too late,” Dio chuckled.

Before Kakyoin could scream, Emily slowly rose from the ground. Her teeth were like icicles, her now glowing red eyes piercing through her father’s gaze.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whined, although this whine was off. It didn’t sound petty, it sounded sinister. “Can you get me a snack?”

The moment Kakyoin moved his legs to run, Emily leaped at him, knocking him to the ground. Her little fingernails sunk into his skin, and he could feel his blood being sucked away.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Emily smiled, her fangs offering no comfort. “Now you can be just like Mommy!”

He wanted to fight back. Kakyoin wanted to throw this little demon taking his blood onto the wall, and kick it until it didn’t move any more. But it was really hard to do that when the demon held his daughter’s face. As he struggled for his last glimpse at the scene around him, the fuzzy shapes that somewhat resembled the ones he knew, he noticed another light forming. It grew, slowly, until his eyes were completely open again.

He was back at that shoe shop, lying face up, looking at the ceiling.

Kakyoin rose from his unconscious position, sitting upright. He didn’t remember exactly what happened before passing out, because it all happened so quickly. One moment, he was seeing red, screaming in rage, running after the man who killed Lily, and the next, he was flying towards a wall, headfirst, upside down.

Taking a look at his surroundings, it was clear that an explosion had happened here. Multiple explosions, actually. And judging from the charred wood coming from the back hallway, an even bigger explosion happened back there. Was it an explosion that sent Kakyoin into the wall?

So maybe it was that tank that made Lily practically disappear, he thought to himself. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t move an inch. Looking down at them, they were still somewhat intact, but the knees had been blown clean off. No big deal, of course, Hierophant could act as his legs. However, one look at the Stand, and its legs were unusable, too.

Kakyoin could hear some muffled talking coming from outside. Surely that was their Stand user. Listening closer, he could hear the voice of Koichi, too. He had to get out there and help, or he’d never forgive himself. If worse came to worst, he could always drag himself with his hands.

However, it wouldn’t have to come to that, because Kakyoin thought of something. Hierophant Green was able to unfold into nothing but strings. Could those strings rope together and act as a brace? It was worth a try. Kakyoin decided to use the strength of his arms, which were the least damaged parts of him. He lifted himself to his feet, and although he could really feel the burn in his arms, it worked. Slowly but surely, Kakyoin worked his way to the back door, grabbing onto the walls when he could. When he finally reached the door, he heard Koichi again, but this time, he could hear the words.

“Your name… is Yoshikage Kira…” he said as he winced in pain.

“H-how did you figure that out?” the other man, most likely the killer, exclaimed.

His name is Yoshikage Kira, Kakyoin thought to himself. He listened to the rest of their conversation, but it was barely important. All that mattered was Koichi was losing, and he would need backup fast. Jotaro was already out, so it would be up to Kakyoin. Slowly and quietly, he opened the door.

“All I need to do now is turn Koichi’s student badge into a bomb with Killer Queen, and he’ll be out of my skin,” Kira said to himself. He summoned his Stand, a catlike creature, and it started to place its finger near Koichi. If he was going to intervene, Kakyoin would have to do it now. There was no time to think about how this man seemingly had two Stands.

“You did well, Koichi,” Kakyoin muttered. “You won against Kira mentally.”

Kira gasped. He had Killer Queen deflect Hierophant’s emeralds before he was hit by them.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Kira chuckled. “I thought you would have died from the explosion.”

“It’ll take more than an explosion to kill me,” Kakyoin replied. He gave Kira a sideways glance.

“So you’ve decided to fight me, in your pathetic state,” Kira observed. “Are you doing it just to stall for time so Koichi doesn’t die? Perhaps it’s because you want to be a hero, even to your death. Or maybe you’re still holding on to the hope that your wife is still alive?”

Kakyoin wasn’t expecting that question. He froze.

“Lots of people do,” Kira continued. “I’ve seen some of the families of my victims beg the police to keep searching, saying that there’s no body to prove that they’re dead. And for Lily, she can make a copy of herself before she dies, so she has to be alive somewhere, right?”

Despite knowing that Kira had seen this same situation before, Kakyoin was still surprised that he knew his exact thoughts.

“Let me tell you something,” Kira said. “Lily is dead! I saw her body explode right before my eyes. You’ll never see her again.” He knew that the one thing keeping Kakyoin in the fight was hope. If he could eliminate it completely, then he would be a much easier opponent to face. And he was right. He could see the little flame of hope fade from Kakyoin’s eyes as he fought tears back to keep his composure.

“So, she’s really gone…” he muttered.

Kira nodded, smiling lightly.

“Well, then,” Kakyoin continued. A couple of Hierophant’s strings shot towards Kira and gripped his neck as tight as possible. Kakyoin looked up, and a new spark was in his eyes. “It’s all the easier for me to finish you off!”

Kira squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the worst. However, when it took a while for him to stop breathing, he slowly opened them. Sure enough, Hierophant Green was wrapped around his throat, but it was so wimpy he couldn’t feel a thing. It must have taken a lot of energy just for Kakyoin to stand up, and it showed through Hierophant.

“Your Stand is weak,” Kira smirked. “It barely has a hold on me.” He summoned Killer Queen, and chopped Hierophant’s strings. There was a snap, and Kakyoin’s right leg bent where it shouldn’t have, forcing him to kneel to the ground while an agonizing scream left his lungs.

“I’d love to chat more, but I don’t have time,” Kira continued. “Josuke will be here any minute now, and I have to get away before that. Unfortunately, this is where your story ends.”

“I wouldn’t move from that spot, if I were you,” Kakyoin warned, gritting his teeth as he sat down, careful to keep his broken leg away from as much pain as possible. The place where the bone snapped was poking out of his skin.

Kira chuckled a little, but it soon turned into a full on laugh. “Are you trying to intimidate me?” he asked. “You, sitting down with a snapped bone in your leg, knees shattered, having to use your Stand as a brace, trying to do something against me?” As he talked, he walked forward. “What could you possibly-”

Kira was cut off by a dozen emeralds shooting forward at him. He backed away in time, but then a dozen more shot at him from behind. Killer Queen blocked them, but he backed up again, having more shoot out from some unknown source. No matter where he stepped, emeralds kept attacking him. Soon, however, Kira had figured it out. While he was busy laughing to himself at the man’s desperate attempts to choke him to death, Hierophant Green was making itself like a tripwire around the whole place.

“You’re trapped,” Kakyoin smiled weakly. “Like you said before, Josuke will be here any minute. If I just stay awake long enough, you’ll be found out. But that isn’t enough to compensate for what you did to Lily.”

Kira gulped.

“An old tactic I used on another enemy of mine, ten years ago,” Kakyoin continued. “Take this, Yoshikage Kira! 20 meter radius Emerald Splash!”

Kira was bombarded with hundreds of those shiny green gems, some barely scraping his skin, others making a small hole straight through his body. By the time Kakyoin was done, Kira was completely out, laying on the floor.

“Koichi,” Kakyoin heaved, “if it weren’t for you, none of this would have been possible. Thank you. You’ve grown over these few weeks, and I can tell. This may be the last time I can talk to you, so farewell.”

And so, as his vision blurred, Kakyoin allowed himself to faint.

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 2/12

@spartanguard​, here we have chapter two of your gift - the wedding! Some of you asked what sort of advice Emma would give as a relationship counselor, and this chapter gets into a little bit of that. More about it will be revealed as the story develops.I also realize there are a lot of logistical questions involved in the whole "switching grooms" thing, and while I get into some of it here, the rest will be explained in chapter three. I'm just trying to avoid long exposition or info dumps, so hang with me!

Summary: (Is one even necessary? Haha!) Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that.

Rating: M

Words: 4,000 and some change in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells  @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @kday426 @ohmakemeahercules@superchocovian​ @teamhook @bethacaciakay @distant-rose @welllpthisishappening @optomisticgirl​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @tiganasummertree​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @stahlop​ @shireness-says​ @thislassishooked​ @hollyethecurious​ @branlovestowrite​ @nikkiemms​ @jennjenn615​ @ekr032-blog-blog​  @snidgetsafan​ @scientificapricot​ @let-it-raines​ @carpedzem​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @wellhellotragic​

Not all brides handle the stress of their big day the same way. Some get emotional, some get stressed, some freeze. However, most brides don’t stomp around the room in their bare feet fuming. Of course, Emma Swan isn’t most brides, and this isn’t most weddings.

“Emma, seriously, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“The carpet is the least of my worries, Rubes.”

At least Emma’s dress was simple. No voluminous skirt or long train to trip over. Nor was it one of those mermaid styles that forced the bride to shuffle around like a Barbie doll. The simple chiffon skirt swirled around her ankles, and the long slit up her left leg allowed her to move freely. The top of the dress was off the shoulder with a plunging neckline. Emma realized how sexy it was, but that hadn’t seemed to matter when it was going to be Walsh waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Now it was going to be Killian Jones waiting for her. Killian Jones. Her carpenter. Surely this was all a bad dream. That had to be it. Surely she’d wake up any minute now and laugh at the ridiculous scenarios conjured up by her nervous brain.

“This can’t be happening,” she muttered as she continued to stomp around the room.

“You mean Walsh cheating, Walsh jilting you at the altar, or you marrying a random acquaintance?”

Emma wanted to snap at her assistant, but instead she collapsed onto a nearby chair and put her head in her hands. “All of the above,” she groaned.

Ruby sank to her knees in front of Emma and took both of her hands. Ruby hadn’t made the move to Storybrooke with Emma; she’d been too much of a city girl. She normally handled Emma’s schedule from New York - the wonders of the internet - but she had made the trip for the wedding. Emma was relieved to have her here. She wasn’t only Emma’s assistant, she was also her closest friend. Those were admittedly rare in Emma’s life.

“Walsh is an absolute jerk,” Ruby fumed. “I’d like to rip his throat out!”

The door to the bridal suite flew open and Regina, Emma’s agent, came striding in, her heels beating out a staccato rhythm. She stopped right in front of Emma and propped her hands on her hips.

“What is this? You’re falling apart over that bastard? That’s not the Emma Swan I know. The one who tells thousands of women every day to push back and refuse to let a man tell you who you ought to be.”

Emma scowled. “Well excuse me for being heartbroken when I get dumped on my fucking wedding day!” Regina’s no-nonsense approach to . . . well, everything, made her a great agent. It didn’t, however, make her a very good shoulder to cry on.

“I get that, and I’m sorry, really I am.”

Really, Regina? I’m not so sure about that.

“But we’ve got media here, Emma, and I can’t have you a sobbing mess on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life.” She let out a huff, then shoved a stack of papers at Emma. “He signed everything with no argument.”

“Seriously?” Emma took the stack from Regina and flipped through it, though the legal jargon made her already aching head spin.

“It’s a standard gag agreement. I also had a friend of mine write up a quick pre-nup. There’s literally nothing in this for him. It’s strange, honestly.”

“Maybe he’s in love with you,” Ruby teased, giving Emma a little shove and a grin.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Hardly. We bicker like . . . like . . . “

“An old married couple?” Ruby supplied with an arched brow.

“Ruby!” she groaned. “This isn’t the time -”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ruby quickly apologized as she rose to her feet.

“And the wedding license?” Emma asked.

“Taken care of,” Regina assured her. She turned to Ruby. “I need you to run over to the groom’s suite and get Mr. Jones set up with a cordless mic.”

Ruby nodded. “Sure thing.”

Emma rose from the chair as her assistant scurried from the room. She wandered aimlessly to the window that overlooked the strip of beach where the ceremony would take place. She sensed Regina coming up behind her, but the woman didn’t attempt to touch her. That just wasn’t Regina’s way.

“Look, Emma,” she told her sincerely, “I know this isn’t the day you’d dreamed of. But your career is hot right now, and this second book might make even more money than your first. You’d be set for life.”

Emma felt a sudden chill and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to dispel the goosebumps. Being set for life sounded nice, especially after all the years of hunger and homelessness in her past. Like it so often did, her mind also sped back in time to when she was sixteen, abandoned and alone with a baby on the way. She shuddered. What did she even know about this man, Killian Jones? Was Regina right? Would it be simply putting up with a roommate for six months to a year in exchange for the career she’d worked so hard for?

“I know that in my head, Regina. Just give my heart a minute to catch up, okay?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a minute,” Regina briskly replied as she glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, let’s freshen up that hair and makeup.”

Emma let out a long sigh as she sat at the vanity. Regina rushed out of the room to get Ruby, since fussing over a friend’s hair and makeup wasn’t really her thing. Emma watched Ruby’s reflection in the mirror when she came back in and fake-swooned against the door.

“If you ask me, Emma, you traded up. That man is some serious man-candy, especially in a tux.”

Emma bit her lip to keep from smiling in response, though she felt the traitorous blush stain her cheeks. Killian’s good looks weren’t lost on her - she wasn’t blind.

“Help me with these smudges, will you?” she deflected, leaning forward and frowning at where she had smeared her mascara.

Ruby rushed up to join her, swiveling Emma’s stool so she was facing her. She went to work on Emma’s eye makeup with confident precision.

“If you do decide to go through with this annulment thing, I’ll gladly take him off your hands.”

Ruby winked at her, and Emma laughed. “If?”

Ruby shrugged as she turned Emma back to face the mirror. “You could find worse to grow old with, that’s all I’m saying.”

Emma’s hair, which she was wearing loose and flowing around her shoulders, didn’t need much help from Ruby, thank goodness. No surprise, considering the entire can of hairspray Ruby had shellacked it with. Even so, Emma frowned at her reflection as the title of the very first chapter of her book flashed before her mind.

Seriously Ladies, I Don’t Care How Hot He Is!

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

Truth be told, Emma Swan’s staff had planned the wedding, not her. Stressing over calla lilies versus roses, satin versus silk, band versus DJ wasn’t really her thing. The only thing she’d gotten personally invested in besides her dress was that damn arbor. She’d seen the rocking chair Killian had done for the Nolan’s with its intricate carvings and beautiful, smooth stain, and for some reason she wanted that for her wedding. Something uniquely her - something real.

Something real - what a joke that was now.

A string quartet played the opening strands of Canon in D, and Emma stepped out onto the satin runner that led from the back of the mansion to the beach below. It felt like the longest walk of her life with all of the guests standing and staring at her - she didn’t even recognize half of them. Cameras clicked all around her, reminding her once again that this was all on display for public consumption.

Emma saw Killian up ahead, beneath the awning, but only through a haze. In a way it felt like an out of body experience. She didn’t really get a good look at his face until she was right in front of him. To her surprise, his smile was wide and bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners - as if he was actually thrilled to be pledging his life to her. She caught a glance at Regina over his shoulder, and the woman tipped her head surreptitiously, her eyes glaring at Emma. The message was clear - at least pretend you want to be here, for God’s sake! Emma bit her lower lip, then looked into Killian’s eyes and forced a smile upon her face. It wasn’t as if gazing into his eyes was a chore - far from it. She’d never seen eyes so blue. She had noticed it that very first day they met, despite her irritation over his loud music. But here beside the sea, his eyes were even more striking.

Like the sea after a storm. Emma bit the inside of her cheek as the line from The Princess Bride came to her suddenly. On its heels came the title of chapter three of her book.

Seriously Ladies, This Life’s No Fairy Tale!

The vows were over before Emma even knew she’d spoken them. Once, Killian even had to squeeze her hands and nod to prompt her. The guests merely chuckled good-naturedly, obviously chalking it up to normal wedding jitters.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the officiant announced. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Kiss the bride! Oh shit, Emma hadn’t even considered this part. They should have discussed it, or . . . practiced maybe? Yet Killian didn’t hesitate, nor did he seem the least bit flustered. He cupped her face in his hands and tenderly bent to press his lips to hers. It was soft, yet deep, his tongue swiping gently against her lips. Emma found herself opening for him and melting into the kiss. Another movie quote flitted through her brain: church tongue. When he pulled away, her eyes stayed closed in bliss for a moment.

Damn, Killian Jones could kiss.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek again as they faced the cheering guests. Now she was thinking of the title of chapter five.

Seriously Ladies, When it Comes to Kissing, Make Sure He’s the One Who Can’t Handle It

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

If the wedding was a blur, the reception was even more so. Emma had heard stories of the crazy things people do when they’re suffering from shock. Walking miles on a broken leg, yanking things out of a gaping wound, dashing through fire, and yet not feeling a thing. She could relate, it was how she made it through her wedding day.

Regina was doing facial gymnastics to get her to go through the motions. She hoped she smiled and faked a laugh enough to sell it. Killian certainly did. Honestly, the way he looked at her sometimes was enough to make her swoon like Ruby. Regina must have given him a hell of an acting lesson.

Chapter Two: Seriously Ladies, All Men are Actors

Killian’s most Oscar-worthy performance came during their first dance. She wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction when the first bars of Extreme’s “More Than Words” played. Killian frowned down at her, his hand at her waist tightening slightly.

“Are you okay, love?”

Emma sighed, “It’s nothing, it’s just . . . this was our song.”

Killian’s eyes widened at that. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, love. None of this can be easy for you.”

“It’s seems easy for you,” she muttered.

He chuckled at that and pulled her closer so he could whisper in her ear. “Well, I’ve got an incredibly beautiful woman in my arms. What’s so difficult about that?”

A shiver ran down her spine and an embarrassing giggle escaped her lips. She heard cameras clicking, and saw Regina give her a satisfied smile and a nod. Killian leaned back and arched a brow at her before spinning her out. When he pulled her back against his chest, he began to sing.

“More than words is all you have to do to make it real. Then you wouldn’t have to say you love me cause I’d already know.”

His voice was . . . amazing, actually, but he accompanied the words with ridiculous facial expressions and wild spins across the dance floor, and it all made Emma throw her head back with genuine laughter. He ended the entire performance by dipping her, followed by a chaste kiss. The crowd cheered and the cameras clicked. When he righted her, he pressed his forehead to hers and lowered his voice so only she could hear.

“No offense to your ex, but this song is basically a guy asking for sex as proof of love.”

Emma’s eyes widened. She should have been pissed at the observation, but . . . well, Walsh obviously hadn’t kept it in his pants, so . . .

“Seriously Ladies, Sex Doesn’t Equal Love.”

Killian blinked. “Pardon?”

Emma laughed again. Cameras clicked. They probably assumed they were having some tender moment. “Chapter eight. Of my book. That’s chapter eight of my book.”

Killian laughed and lifted his right hand to scratch behind his ear. “I, um, must confess . . . I haven’t read it.”

“Well, I’m glad of that,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You are?”

“If you were reading books on how to have a relationship with a man, then this marriage would really be doomed.”

He laughed again, and his eyes did that crinkling thing, and she noticed for the first time that he had dimples. The cameras clicked again. The media loved him already.

Too bad the bride barely knew him.

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

Emma’s agent had told Killian he needed to act like a man in love, had lectured him on it for about ten minutes, actually. As if he needed it. Truth be told, he was having a hard time reining himself in. The wedding kiss, for example, was probably pushing it. But bloody hell, when he’d seen her walking down the aisle towards him, his heart had almost flown from his chest. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away, with her hair in those soft curls and that dress . . . God, that dress! The way her shapely legs peeked out of the slit as she walked, that plunging neckline that not only hinted at the swell of her breasts but also showed off her creamy skin - it was enough to make a man lose his mind.

Emma hadn’t seemed to be bothered by the kiss though, and had actually kissed him back. Then again, she had to keep up the charade. It would certainly arouse suspicion if she seemed uncomfortable with his lips on hers.

And his tongue tangling with hers. Shit, he probably shouldn’t have gone that far. He couldn’t stop touching her either, finding excuses throughout the reception to press his hand to the small of her back, take her hand, or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He was in heaven.

He was a cad. Because this also had to be one of the worst days of Emma Swan’s life.

Or was it Emma Jones now? They had never discussed that small detail, though he assumed with her career, she would keep Swan. Not that it bothered him either way. Even in a world of his most wonderful, wildest dreams where Emma Swan decided to stay when the year was up, he wouldn’t care what name she chose.

He had made her laugh during their first dance, and he counted that a huge victory. He loved that he could make her smile after all she had been through with her horrible ex. Why the man would cheat on her, much less leave her high and dry on their wedding day was something Killian couldn’t comprehend.

“Killian!”

His back stiffened at the familiar voice. He had seen David at the ceremony, but he’d managed to avoid him so far. Killian’s arm tightened around Emma’s waist as he turned to face his friend. His wife Mary Margaret was at his side, and she was practically beaming.

“Oh, I am so happy for you two!” she gushed. “How in the world did you manage to keep this from us?”

“Yeah,” David agreed, his eyes cutting from Emma to Killian and back again, “how long has this been going on?”

“Oh David,” Mary Margaret admonished with a playful slap to her husband’s chest, “obviously he’s why Emma moved here.”

“Well, it does explain all those appointments to design that wedding arbor,” David laughed.

Killian scratched behind his ear and forced a laugh. “You caught us!”

“So how did you meet?” Mary Margaret, ever the romantic, asked in a sing-song voice.

“Um, well, I DM-ed her on Instagram.”

David narrowed his eyes. “You’re on Instagram?”

“Of course he is, sweetie,” Mary Margaret laughed, as if her husband was way behind the times, “I follow him. Gorgeous pictures of all his work . . . anyways, so Emma, you broke chapter twelve of your book?”

Killian felt like his bow tie was choking him. “Chapter Twelve?”

“You know sweetie,” Emma said, elbowing him a little too sharply, “the chapter warning women against internet dating.”

“Oh . . . that, well,” his face turned red as she shot daggers at him from his eyes.

“What Killian means,” Emma said smoothly, turning to Mary Margaret, “is that he DM-ed me for relationship advice, not trying to flirt with me. A friendship grew from there, and then love.”

“Relationship advice?” David was crossing his arms over his chest now - not a good sign.

“Aye, mate. Being a widower is no picnic you know.”

David’s posture deflated, and he gave Killian a friendly slap on the back. “It’s good to see you happy again.”

Killian put his arm around Emma, pulled her close, and brushed a kiss to her temple. “Never been happier, truly.”

“I didn’t see your family here, Killian,” Mary Margaret said, concern creasing her brow.

Emma jumped in before Killian could even get his thoughts in order. “We’ll be doing a small, private ceremony for them. We just couldn’t risk the media figuring out Killian’s identity.”

Killian blinked as he looked down at her. She smiled at him in an adoring way and squeezed his bicep gently. She was quite the actress - impressive.

“So they don’t even know you got married?” Mary Margaret asked incredulously.

This was getting more and more complicated by the minute. “I didn’t want to ask them to keep such a huge secret,” Killian explained, “but don’t worry, I’ll be calling them soon.”

“Good,” Mary Margaret said on a sigh. She reached out to pat his hand. “I know they will be thrilled after all the pain they’ve watched you go through.”

Mercifully, the DJ announced that the bride and groom would be leaving for their honeymoon. Mary Margaret and David hugged them both and said their goodbyes, then Emma and Killian were whisked outside by Ruby and the wedding planner to a waiting limo.

Once inside, Emma collapsed against the seat, and her face fell. It was obvious now that her smiles, her gentle touches, all of it, had been a facade. She turned away from him as the limo drove away, taking them to Cape Cod. Uncomfortable silence fell between them, and the inches separating them on the bench seat felt like miles.

“Are you okay?” Killian finally ventured.

If she had snapped at him, he would have understood, but instead she looked at him wearily. “I woke up this morning planning to marry my fiance, and now I’m married to someone I barely know instead. How do you think I feel?”

He winced. “Fair enough. I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk.”

She ignored him, slumping further and resting her head against the window. He couldn’t help watching her, his heart aching that he could do nothing to ease her pain.

He was surprised when she spoke again, though she didn’t look at him. “I didn’t know you were married before.”

“I’m sorry, Swan, I should have mentioned that.”

“No,” she said, turning her gaze on him once again, “it isn’t that. I’m just . . . I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

They fell silent once again, and the stress of the day started to get to Killian. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but finally lost the battle and succumbed to sleep. It felt like only moments later when the limo driver tapped on the window. Killian’s eyes blinked open, and he was surprised to find Emma’s head against his shoulder. He shook her gently to wake her.

“We’re here, love.”

“Oh,” Emma said, voice still thick with sleep as she sat up, blinking. When she met his gaze, a blush stained her cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize, I feel asleep too.”

She nodded, weary, and climbed out of the limo. The resort was a throwback to the heydey of Cape Cod with quaint shutters and bright red awnings. The staff fussed over them, which wasn’t surprising since they were both still dressed like figures on the top of a wedding cake. The bellboy got their bags and led them to the honeymoon suite. There was a small sitting room that led out to a balcony with an ocean view. Off the sitting room was a large master bedroom with a king size bed and an ensuite bath. Housekeeping had strewn rose petals across the bed, and a bottle of champagne on ice sat on the nightstand.

“Enjoy,” the bellboy said with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he slipped out the door.

The silence after he left was palpable. Emma shivered as she stared through the open door into the bedroom, but then she quickly squared her shoulders and spun on him.

“Look, I hope you didn’t get any ideas because we’re technically married.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he lifted both hands in defense. “I would never in a million years expect anything of the sort from you, Emma. Clearly, I’ll be taking the couch.”

Emma cocked her head at him, her eyes narrow slits. “Oh, so you’re a gentleman?’

He couldn’t help winking at her. “Of course. I’m always a gentleman.”

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. “We’ll see.”

It was late, and it had been a long and emotional day, so Killian wasn’t surprised when Emma grumbled that she was going to bed, shut the bedroom door behind her rather forcefully, and snapped at him not to bother her. He let out a long sigh as he toed off his shoes and started to remove his tie. He thought about calling Liam, but he just wasn’t emotionally ready for that conversation. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for he and Emma to get the details of their story straight before that happened.

There was a TV in front of the couch, and he flicked it on as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. He found blankets and a pillow on the top shelf of a closet and settled down with remote in hand. He flipped through the channels, but there wasn’t anything that captured his interest, so he shut it off and turned off the light. He lay there, his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted, but sleep was elusive.

Then a sound caught his ear. Killian tilted his head and listened closely. It was Emma, and she was crying.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 14: The Summons

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

When the Amulet of Nero is stolen from within Raines Corp. the time comes to call a special Summons of the Council. And that's just what Gaius wanted.

[READ IT ON AO3]

Nadya waits on the curbside for twenty minutes. Tells herself he probably just got caught in traffic or something. It had snowed for the better part of the day; that wet, sticky kind of snow that clung to roadsides and turned luxury cars (however practical Adrian insisted they be) into useless little wagons.

Even she’s a little disappointed in herself for waiting that long and not just making her way to the subway. She’s gotten spoiled.

[TEXT]: hope ur ok. grabbing the subway instead

By the time the metal cars squeal into her stop Nadya is suitably confused. It’s not like Adrian not to read his messages. Out of the underground she tries to call — the phone rings three times then straight to voice mail.

Confusion melts into worry when she tries Kamilah instead — same thing; ring. ring. ring and nothing.

There might have been a few more steps in between, but when Nadya turns the corner to the sight of flashing red and blue lights and three police cars in front of Raines Corp. she jumps all the way up to panic and breaks out in a run for the building entrance.

“Miss, this is a closed scene.”

“I’m an employee.” She fumbles for the badge she so rarely uses down in her purse, fingers shaking from fear and the cold and she’s never really done well with authority figures so the deep-set frown the officer fixates on her isn’t helping. When she finally fishes it out, though, the uniform looks away — couldn’t care less.

“You need to leave, miss.”

“Hello, can’t you read?” Nadya raises her voice and tries to press her badge a little harder into the woman’s line of sight. The responding glare she gets is not a kind one.

Bad move, bad move bad move —

Thank god she catches sight of Adrian and Kamilah through the revolving door. And she doesn’t feel the least bit sorry when Kamilah breezes her way through and all but throws the cop to the slushy curb to bring her inside.

“What’s going on?” Nadya looks around; latches herself to the woman’s side because relationship-be-darned there are people in black jackets carrying boxes and kits and officers in uniform and suits everywhere and she’s never seen anything like this outside of Most Wanted. “Kamilah — what happened?”

Halfway to Adrian and still without an answer Nadya stops, digs her heels into the tile slippery from melted snow and grabs onto Kamilah’s sleeve. It’s enough to stop her but she can tell right away the vampiress is distracted in a way Nadya isn’t sure she’s ever seen the like of.

“What happened?” she tries again, and finally (finally) Kamilah focuses on her.

“There was a break-in.”

What? “Here?” Dumb question. “What—when—is anyone—or—what —”

Hands heavy with the weight of ages fall on her shoulders and its almost scary how naturally she relaxes under them. Something Kamilah notices too, without a doubt, but neither of them comment on because there’s too much going on.

Nadya gathers herself under that touch. Only when she’s at least mostly certain her words will come out in the right order does she try again.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Three security guards were killed.” She says it so easily. Nadya covers her mouth with the back of her hand.

Kamilah continues; “Adrian was able to get to me before the police, but there are protocols that must be followed for businesses such as ours. To our benefit, Lester has most of the detectives here under his thumb. We wait until they complete the official paperwork to discuss this, is that understood?”

Which is harsh, even by Kamilah’s standards. Especially seeing as Nadya’s on the verge of blubbering panicked right now, because even under the normal scents of metal and the night janitor’s floor polish she catches the familiar smell coming through the air vents.

Blood.

“Kamilah…” How is it that after everything she’s seen and done she still manages to sound so frightened?

Thankfully though the woman seems to catch herself. She slides her palms down to Nadya’s upper arms; feels the trembling beneath her coat and presses in with her thumbs. Something familiar, something grounding.

Nadya swallows around the lump in her throat. “This is too much of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

After all who just wakes up one afternoon and decides to rob a biotech corporation?

Kamilah confirms her fears with a nod. “It was an impulsive act, but the wounds are unmistakable.”

Vampires.

Trying to play dumb would only be willful ignorance at this point. There’s no other reason vampires would break into the building.

The moment Nadya understands Kamilah is there to hold her steady; like she was waiting for it.

“Yes, Nadya. They took the Amulet.”

It shouldn’t be any consolation that she can feel the worry ebbing into Kamilah’s voice normally so sure and steady. Or that when she can feel her legs solid enough to keep walking Adrian looks at the pair of them over a detective’s shoulder with a face so worn from exhaustion.

It shouldn’t be, but it is a little bit.

Because the city has to bring in a coroner it takes more than a few hours for everything to clear up. Nadya takes it upon herself to stand outside and give calm and understanding explanations to the employees who had the misfortune of showing up for work anyway — and maybe she does it with a little extra side-eye to the officer who had given her so much trouble in the beginning, maybe she doesn’t.

Could she be blamed?

Only when sunrise starts to peek over the man-made horizon does Nadya realize who exactly Kamilah had been referring to when she mentioned some of the detectives were on their side — or at least on their payroll. They’re the ones who don’t question it when Adrian starts up a fuss about how long the force has been taking in his lobby, about how exhausted he is; whatever it takes to get them to clear out as fast as possible.

She makes sure to throw a sympathetic smile his way. Nadya knows how much he hates having to put on the airs of a corporate douche (Jax’s words, not hers in the slightest). And she can tell he tries to return it as much as he can… but it’s a lot for him.

When the atrium finally empties and Nadya has shooed away most of the crowd they venture down to the labs.

Nadya finds it strange to think only a few days ago she was down here with the rest of them. The pristine white space not bothered by crime scene tape or the smudges of fingerprinting powder on every surface. Part of her wants to look away from the blood splatters hovering ominous without bodies to place them. The rest of her feels like she has a responsibility to bear witness.

In an impressive display of strength the large steel door is nearly ripped from the hinges. The bolt sealing it shut is still partially inside the wall. Whoever broke in was in a rush — yanking open drawers and cabinets until they found what they were looking for and careless to whatever was in their way. Now all the files and even a few chemical tubes are strewn across the floor in disarray.

She carefully avoids stepping in the pool of dried blood just in front of the vault entrance.

“It’s as though they didn’t know where to look,” comments Adrian as he crosses the taped-off doorway, “only what they were looking for.”

Nadya recalls briefly the sight of Kamilah in these very basements on the other side of the building. Where she lifted the stone lid from Lily’s empty coffin without so much as a furrowed brow.

“So we don’t have to guess who did this, right?” She looks between the vampires and hates that they all share the same thought. “They tore through solid steel like it was paper.”

It was their fault for pretending like the Trinity wouldn’t come for the Amulet. A darker, more cynical part of Nadya is surprised they didn’t try something like this sooner.

Still — it would be nice if either one of them had something helpful to say. But neither of them do, and the silence tries achingly to make them accept the truth.

“We must assume the worst;” Kamilah admits with a heavy sigh, “that the Amulet is now in Gaius’ possession, or nearly so. It’s time we summoned the Council, Adrian. We can’t keep them in the dark any longer — not if we have any hope of getting them on our side.”

Nadya frowns. “Why wouldn’t they be? This is Gaius we’re talking about. You all stood up to him once before.”

“Yes — and if you recall it was the hardest thing we have ever had to do.”

“Which means it should be easier the second time around.”

Adrian’s voice takes her by surprise as he exits the vault.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

She can’t believe what she’s hearing. “And why is that?”

“Just because. You’ve felt it too I’m guessing —” the vampires exchange looks that Nadya doesn’t quite recognize, that has her whirling around back and forth until she’s so dizzy she might fall just to try and understand what isn’t being said out loud, “— ever since I saw the empty sarcophagus it’s like he’s been looming over me; a shadow I can’t quite see.”

Hesitantly Kamilah nods. “I’ve found myself entertaining thoughts I never would have in the last century. It was only a matter of time before his influence began to reach out to us, unfettered. And if we have felt it there is little doubt Cecil and Lester have as well. Even if they aren’t conscious of the truth.”

Nadya bites her lip; chews it so hard she nearly breaks skin.

“Is that why you’ve been acting weird, Adrian?”

He nods once; curt and like just that little act causes him an immense pain.

When I said I wanted answers… but she doesn’t finish the thought. There are more important things to do.

“Then let’s get it over with.”

Nadya wipes her forehead with the back of her hand again — this exhale just as shaky as the last. She had not thought this through.

“Are you sure you’re okay for this?” Lily asks and, just like the three times previous, Nadya nods with lips pursed tight to keep them from wobbling with strain.

Because she couldn’t not be here now. She has to see this through. Only the last time she was in this particular room it hadn’t gone so well, had it? The memories of that awful throne and now she has the displeasure of knowing the voice of the wretched man who once sat upon it and both of those things echo inside her skull in a surround sound she can only describe as sickening.

It’s saying a lot that she prefers hearing the red-faced rage of the Baron over whispers of ghostly memories. Neither are preferable, but not much Nadya can do to change it now.

“What do you mean, ‘the Sarcophagus is empty?!’”

Lester tries to appear like he’s sitting the picture of the calm his fellow Council member isn’t. But his bouncing leg betrays him. “Not to say anything against your credit, Kamilah, but are you certain you weren’t perhaps imagining things?” His smarmy smile isn’t returned by any of the five faces all turning to glare at him as one.

“What? I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had similar ones over the years.”

Jax’s brow ticks in frustration. “And what are you saying about Raines and I, then?”

“Bite your damn tongue, boy!” The Baron’s face bulges with every word, like the pounding of his temples might swell his head before he pops inside of his tight and outdated collar. Of the three of them Nadya wouldn’t have expected him to have the worst reaction of the three.

And while she tries not to compare the ramblings of a guy like Lester with her own, she instead focuses on Priya — the uncharacteristically silent one.

She doesn’t know much about the former youngest of the Council, only what Adrian had told her in his brief run-down of what to expect now that she was his assistant in all things business and vampiric. Priya was the only one of the seated members (barring Jax, now) who wasn’t Turned by Gaius. The Council had their enterprises sure but she was Priya Lacroix. She ran a fashion empire. Even the likes of Lily and Nadya — meaning those who had never spent more than department store prices on a pair of jeans — knew her label and the outrageous trends she was known for creating.

At Adrian’s trial, Nadya had learned the hard way that Priya was on no one’s team but her own. Back then that had meant siding with Vega.

What did it mean now, she wonders, and holds her churning stomach at all the ways that little thought alone could go wrong for them.

To Kamilah’s credit she waits until the Baron has stopped huffing and puffing to continue.

“It was no illusion. The Onyx Sarcophagus was unbound and opened. For some time, from the looks of it. Surely you’ve felt his reach even if you had no name for it until now.

“If you still have trouble taking me at my word Cecil, then I ask you this; when was the last time you remember seeing your key?”

Lester thinks he’s subtle when he reaches to pat his trouser pockets. But the relief on his face is clear, even when he catches Adrian staring at him from across their semi-circle of seats. “Don’t look at me! I have mine!”

A grinding noise makes the vampires and their sensitive ears flinch. All but Priya, who continues to let her stone chair chip away at her manicure as a look of bewildered anger darkens her normally sultry expression.

“I can’t remember. Why the fuck can’t I remember?!”

The Baron tears open his collar to reveal more of his flushed chest; which does nothing for Nadya’s upset stomach. Lily dramatically buries her face into Maricruz’s shoulder as though to shield herself from blindness. On her left, Cadence swallows down a gagging noise.

“I— Where is my damned key?!”

He goes to point an accusatory finger at Kamilah, but is cut off by Adrian before he can say something he’ll very likely regret.

“It’s our belief that once the keys were taken from us, a very thin layer of psychic suggestion was put in place to keep us from looking. Enough time had passed that we weren’t checking up on him frequently.”

“Well no shit,” Priya grumbles, “the last time I did it the smell of his rot stunk up my favorite Amur shawl.” She pulls a stunned nail file from her messy high-bun and starts about fixing the damage done.

Even Adrian looks like he can’t believe the day has come where he and Priya agree on something. “Sure, that… too.”

“But who would be so foolish?” asks Lester. “We all knew the dangers of his ideas — and what he would do to us if he was ever freed.”

Kamilah clenches her jaw. The Baron doesn’t miss it and throws her a sneer.

“Having regrets, Your Highness?” Though every trace of his accusation withers under her red-eyed stare.

“You would do well to watch your tongue, Cecil.” And Nadya sees the way she shifts tense in her seat; the look she throws the throne beside her under the guise of closing her eyes and gathering herself. It makes her want to run across the Chamber to Kamilah and hold her tight. To make promises that everything was going to be okay even if she didn’t know whether or not it was the truth.

“If you recall, it was my betrayal that sealed his fate.”

Priya scoffs. “We have just as much to lose as you if he’s coming for us.”

“Oh he’s coming for us all right… make no mistake there.” And though his voice wavers in fear Priya doesn’t deem Lester’s warning worth a reply.

“Unfortunately, Lester is right.”

Kamilah, Adrian, and Jax trade silent nods. They’ve come this far — and without the Amulet going back is impossible. The men defer to Kamilah and the authority of her years.

A burden she doesn’t take lightly. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, this is something Jax, Adrian, and myself have known about for some time. It was our hope to deal with the situation swiftly and silently; to prevent this very Summons from occurring. But to keep you in the dark is no longer an option, not without putting you and your Clans in significant danger.”

“The world is in danger as long as that mad king roams free, Kamilah.” Lester says with a sigh. Kamilah doesn’t disagree, but continues.

“In our investigation we’ve come to learn several things. Firstly, Gaius has had an agent acting under his orders for a decade at the least, though it’s more likely that he has kept Jameson under his thumb the entire length of his imprisonment.”

The other Council members react with mixed shock and anger.

“Jameson? But he always seemed so… demure.”

“Eugh, I always knew he was a freak. Anyone that obsessed with frock coats would be.”

The Baron growls at Kamilah yet again. “Am I the only one remembering just whose Clan he was part of?”

“Of course not Cecil,” Kamilah snaps back, “but it was not I who made him. And we all know the power of a Maker’s thrall. Taking into account that Jameson and Isseya both are naturally gifted in the psychic arts…”

With a snap Priya’s file breaks in two; half splintering in her closed fist while the other slips and falls to her heel. “That bitch is involved?”

“Both of the Trinity are,” Adrian answers; gives Kamilah what looks like a much-needed respite with a short nod and by while leaning with his elbows on his knees, “and its more than likely they have been since the Awakening Ball, at the very least. Which brings me to our next point… and the reason we called this Summons tonight.

“Under Gaius’ orders, they have been hunting down the Amulet of Nero. The Trinity’s third was tasked with keeping it hidden until Gaius had need of it, but when the man died the Amulet’s location was lost with him. I was able to track the Amulet down to a supernatural auction in New Orleans and securely bring it back.”

It would be a valiant summary to a heroic story… if he didn’t leave it with an awkward silence. And by now the rest of the Council — well they’ve already gotten so much bad news already in such a short amount of time. Nadya doesn’t blame them for waiting for the other pin to drop.

“But?” presses Lester. Even Priya — though maybe more so now because she doesn’t have anything to distract herself with — seems rapt with attention.

“But despite his best efforts, my little soldier always seems to fall just short of the mark.”

Back at Persephone, Nadya just knew the Trinity was alone; that Gaius wasn’t with them. Didn’t know how she knew or what it would have even felt like if he was there.

It would have felt like this. An oppressive, suffocating heaviness in the air seeping its way both into her throat and wrapping around her from the outside. Squeezing, tightening with every breath; filling her with terror and anger and (nauseatingly) a kind of joy that should never be associated with the smell of death that wafts into the Chamber and into her every pore.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

If his very presence wasn’t so terrifying she might have the stomach left to laugh. Gaius doesn’t bother with a glamour this time — no he’s much too pleased for that. The joy whistling between his rotting teeth as he descends the steps into the Chamber and looks out on them all with a literally lip-splitting grin.

The night wind howling above the city filters down and screams like a thousand roused graves. They dance around him, make the wisps of his hair shift around his hollowed face, and disperse like an omen around them.

Witness him. Behold him. Tremble before the King of Vampires.

All around Nadya the vampires rise together; a front united in only one thing — fear. Just like at dinner she stays seated but there’s no willful defiance here. She just can’t move.

Like that stops Gaius from honing in on her anyway. “I told you Nadya — that throne is mine still, even after all these years. Such a tragedy that the pretenders to my kingdom haven’t taken care of it as they should have, though.”

Lily and Maricruz step in front of her — she appreciates the gesture but wants to scream at them to run and save themselves. I’ve seen what he can do. I don’t want that for you. But she doesn’t, not even when she feels the towering form of Cadence at her back.

And Kamilah is so far away…

Strange that the thing that gets her to stand is the sight of Jameson coming up behind his Master’s back. Like a caricature, huddled behind Gaius like an immortal shield. Seeing him brings her to a boiling point, makes her remember living through Lily’s death—living through her murder—and all the pain it caused, continues to cause…

“What are you doing here?”

The only ones surprised when Valdas and Isseya appear at the rear of Gaius’ awful entourage are the Trinity themselves. Mortified, Valdas stares at Cadence and grabs for his lover’s hand. She takes it wordlessly; her expression unreadable.

“Now now Valdemaras, this isn’t the time.”

Just like before; his pretty words so cold and cruel. How they make him recoil, how they make Kamilah’s eyes flash with the briefest hint of pity.

The Council are equals but they bend to Kamilah on this — let the eldest be the first to step forward on the chopping block.

“Gaius.”

He fixates on her in a flash of milk-white eyes. His sunken features barely able to hold his twisted frown.

“Kamilah, my Queen.”

The word stings her like a slap to the face, but Kamilah keeps her composure.

“The years haven’t been kind.”

“No, I suppose they haven’t.” He reaches up and presses at his skin with fingers that aren’t in much better shape. Priya tries not to gag and might even turn her face away if she weren’t fixated on him in terror.

“And who do I have to thank for that, I wonder?”

Kamilah inclines her head but says nothing. Adrian steps up behind her, ever at her back. And if he’d hoped to draw Gaius’ attention away it worked — and a little too well at that.

“And Adrian, my lovely little soldier. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the part you played all those years ago.”

“I would hope you ha—”

“Sssh…”

All Gaius has to do is hold up a finger and the entire Chamber falls silent. The vampires, the wind; Nadya even finds her thoughts waiting on hesitant breath to hear what he has to say. How it feels so terribly vitally important.

It makes him croon in satisfaction. “Much better. I hate to see how quickly you’ve forgotten your manners; all of you. But I suppose it’s to be expected when you don’t have a guiding hand to show you the way.”

Slow and purposeful he strides deeper into the Chamber. His cape catches on the packed dirt underfoot but it’s just another way for the literal world to yield to him. “I should thank you, first, for convening yourselves and saving me the trouble. I would have hated to have to hunt you down one by one — this way retribution will be swift and just.

“But the real reason I’m here is to offer my congratulations.” But Jameson, ever gleeful, is the only one who claps. “You’ve had a very profitable… how many years was it? Ninety-nine, I think? Part of me almost wished to wait and make it an even century. But I could not find enough benevolence in me to give you the satisfaction… as they say — nobody’s perfect.

“But I wonder if you have given ample time to consider the ramifications of your success. How far back you’ve bent to this sniveling population of chattel in pursuit of your backwards notions of them. The belief that they are somehow equal to us given sheer numbers alone.

“The infestation of them would not have spread so far had you not committed such a heinous crime.”

“Our only crime was defying you!” Adrian spits out, red-faced and the exertion it takes to resist whatever spell he holds them all under shows in the sweat beading on his brow.

“And that was crime enough!”

All around Nadya the vampires flinch as if struck by the back of an invisible hand. Even Jameson, who recoils away but refuses to let himself be lumped in among the masses of those Gaius deems as traitors.

For a walking corpse though, it’s impressive how quickly he regains his composure. Just as quick as he had lost it. He smooths back the wisps of his hair and eases blind rage into the same yellowing smile.

“Ninety-nine years is a long time. Though I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you that.” He gestures wide to the Council at large, open arms spread in the same arrogant pride has he had at the banquet table.

“Long enough for you to become titans of industry and advancement, and to grow complacent in your greatest lies. You have deluded yourselves, my children, into thinking that you live in times of peace. You believed the evil vanquished and the world spared of a so-called price which you deemed too high… despite not being the ones who would have to make it.

“Some might call this loyalty. I would call it treachery. Your loyalty should never have been to humans, to the plague of them that stretches across the world. It should have been to me.

“But I suppose the only one truly at fault is myself.” Gaius hangs his head forlornly. “Somewhere along the line… I must have been too lax, too forgiving. I followed the tools She gave me to the letter and yet even in the first of my line I could never inspire quite the same devotion as She could. Not without the missing link.”

His grey palm twists upwards and the fire pits lining the Chamber walkway catch on glittering gold and red. The Amulet of Nero rests, neatly cradled in offering; as though it belonged there. Then it isn’t Gaius holding anyone captive, not any longer — the Amulet does that job for him perfectly, possibly even better.

A fact that isn’t lost on him. Reverence choking at his voice as he gives his audience the chance to admire it.

“It is to my understanding that you’ve been hard at work trying to open the Amulet. Points for understanding it is not the Amulet itself that holds the power but what lies within it. Though I suspect, my dearest Bloodqueen, you have a little something to do with that.”

Kamilah glares down at him. And would very well take his words and impale him on them if she could. He’s giving her the chance to speak but she can’t—or won’t—take it.

She doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Gaius knows this, and seems heartbroken by it. “I see, and this is truly the path you wish to take?” But again the only reply is the hollow quiet. He thumbs the gemstone almost absentmindedly.

“Very well.”

Gaius throws his head back, familiarity gently shaking away a head of thick hair no longer there. Watching his fangs descend is more like seeing maggots crawl from an open wound — something Nadya has never seen in person and now will never need to. They’re as stained and rotting inside-out like the rest of the teeth left in his skull and surely they once have must been long and proud; something of a status symbol. Not anymore.

But they are no less sharp. And in the silent hall the wet sound of those fangs sinking into the sagging flesh of his exposed wrist is terrible; just like the stench of foul death that follows. Nadya tells herself it’s a trick of the (lack of) light that when he pulls back the blood dripping from his mouth is almost black.

“Nothing you could have attempted would have proven fruitful,” says Gaius, mouth full of his own blood that spills down his chin through his smile, “because only the purest of blood could relinquish the spell here. Nothing so diluted as what filthy muck most of you had crawled from; not even that of my own line. Only those Turned with the blessing of the Goddess would be able to ensure Her return… I made sure of that.”

His self-inflicted wound takes its sweet time to heal. Plenty of time for him to bring the Amulet close, cradled like a fragile trinket (which was definitely not the case, and they had a list of ways that had been proven) and let his blood drip—drip—drip over the jewel with purpose.

Whatever enchantment was holding it closed was also holding the true nature of the thing back — that much is obvious. The latch of it comes undone so soft she doesn’t hear a thing, then he pries the pieces apart with a rotted thumb. The Amulet’s influence comes in waves so strong Nadya, too, can finally feel them. Feels the magnetic pull of it and she wonders with all of her awe if she were to jump from the ground wound it bring her ever closer, would it finally then have hold over her?

She has the sense not to, thank god, but Lily’s knees buckle under the pressure. Nadya and Maricruz hold her up quickly, Nadya’s sleeve wiping away the sweat at her temples.

“It’s…” She struggles to find the words. Lily Always-With-Something-To-Say Spencer is speechless. And she’s not alone.

Even the man himself gazes in reverence. Plucks something from the heart of the locket and lets it fall away, unenchanted and plain, back to the dirt where it belongs. Its contents are its value. Gaius holds it up to the light; a little red vial, no bigger than her thumb, with designs on the glass that catch in the dancing flames.

Nadya realizes a bit too (foolishly) late that it isn’t the vial that glitters, but what’s inside of it. Blood, undeniably blood, but the brightest and most beautiful blood she’s ever seen. What she had thought was the reflection of light is actually flecks of gold dancing within it.

Dancing to a song that, if she closes her eyes and listens with all her might, Nadya thinks she can hear.

The blood of the First Vampire.

And they understand all at once and in a horrifying way exactly what he plans on doing with it.

He breaks the vial’s waxy seal and raises it in his sole cheers. “To my good health.”

“NO!”

Flecks of blood dot across Kamilah’s cheek. But she and the rest of the Council are still held immobile by the power of the vial, no longer captivated but forced to behold it. All but Adrian, his own blood dripping red and violent from his nose; his ears. Breaking out from the vial’s spell—from Gaius’ spell—has him pale and shaking, and whatever willpower he found to do it is stronger than his ability to heal.

Nadya watches with tears burning in her eyes and teeth clenched in a struggle between wanting to keep him safe and needing him to save them.

Her cries — silent but desperate. Please Adrian, please!

She’d like to think he almost makes it. Optimistic failure — that’s what her life has been reduced to. But it’s better than nothing, even if it’s still failure.

Adrian falls to his knees with Gaius just out of reach. He struggles, maybe he even knows its in vain, but reaching out as he does, still trying to claw his way to the vial, fighting through agony — it just hurts.

“Aagh!” When he yields its clutching his head, its threatening to tear out clumps of his hair and more blood falling down his face and sticking awful to his lips. “My… hh-head…”

His Maker looks down not with disdain but with pity.

“Time and time again my soldiers keep disappointing me,” he laments; like he’s the wounded party when Adrian hadn’t managed to lay a finger on him, “First Valdemaras, then Banner… I had hoped to break the cycle with you, Adrian. My strong Adrian… a little too willful at the end but I would expect nothing less.”

“You bas… bas…” But whatever is hurting him is too much. Gaius sighs.

“That is enough, Jameson. He’s earned his last words.”

Behind him the psychic vampire withdraws; pulls his hand back and instantly Adrian slumps to the ground. Too weak even to stop the way Gaius brushes the back of a grey finger over his cheek.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” snarls Kamilah.

Gaius looks up to her sharply.

“Now — a few last efforts I may tolerate. But such blatant disrespect is beneath you, Kamilah. You would dare order me?”

“Do not. dare. touch him. Gaius.”

And with that — he’s done. He steps back in a flourish, his warped face twisted in rage. “Enough of this insolence! You’ve forgotten manners, respect — you have forgotten to fear me. But that will change.”

He looks down at Adrian, struggling on his shaking limbs — fighting to stand, and shoves his progeny down beneath his heel. Gone is the man who found amusement in their torment, in playing sick games and offering speeches with false praise.

With Adrian trapped under his heel Gaius raises the vial to his lips and downs the contents whole.

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next chapter goes up on August 28th. I promise this story ends happily!

Chapter 5

Ted sat at the family Christmas gathering moping. He would deny it aloud, but even he knew that he was moping.

"Hey," Aunt Bridget sat down next to him and smiled, "Why so glum-looking?"

Ted shook his head, "I was an idiot and I got myself burned."

"With work?"

"No, with a girl."

Aunt Bridget smiled at him and Ted almost told her that if she wanted to laugh at him, she could do so without him present, but then she pulled him into a hug.

"I think that this runs in our family. Look at your Uncle James and Aunt Lily. They talk all the time about how they ran around each other for years before they finally figured themselves out. Sirius and Marlene say they took longer than the Potter's to admit they were more than just friends with benefits. Your dad thought he was ruining your mum's life at first. And I was dating someone else when Peter met me."

Ted's head shot up. "You were dating someone when you met Uncle Pete?

Bridget smiled, "Yeah, I was with another bloke, and looking back I feel like a fool for having stayed with him for as long as I did. Peter was who I needed to be with from the get-go."

"What, what changed?" Ted picked at the Christmas cookie crumbs on Aunt Lily's table cloth.

"We both did. I had to realize that there could be other people out there for me other than the bloke I had settled for to date…"

"Who're you dating?" Uncle Peter sat down next to Aunt Bridget.

"I was telling Teddy here about when we met." Bridget smiled at him.

Peter laughed, "You know, that was by far the hardest experience of my life."

"How, how did you get through it?" Ted tried to not sound as interested or as desperate as he felt.

"James," Peter smiled and looked over at where James was telling his granddaughter a story that involved pantomiming something rather bizarre-looking, causing Lily to shake with laughter. "James told me that I didn't need to give up. He pointed out how he and Lily had to wait for the right time, and that I probably would too with Bridget if it was going to happen for us. Every time I thought of giving up, James would remind me that I might just need to wait for my time."

"Why did you listen to him?" Ted held his uncle's stare.

Peter smiled and put a hand on his arm, "I knew, Ted. I knew the moment I saw Bridget that she was it. No matter how many times I tried to move on to someone else, which, believe me, there were several attempts made, I always came back to her."

"You're going to make me cry," Bridget kissed Peter's cheek and he chuckled.

"Look, Ted, whoever you're hung up on, give yourself some time, maybe try and move on, but if it doesn't work, then listen to James. Don't give up on her, just wait it out."

Ted nodded, and then Uncle Sirius was yelling at everyone to sing because Remus didn't learn to play the bloody piano so they could all just sit and listen to him.

Ted chuckled as he joined in the caroling. He was pretty sure that wanting to play without people singing was exactly why his dad had learned to play the piano.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Ted couldn't avoid the business planning meetings with Vic after the new year, but he did better at keeping them more business-focused, and he stopped hanging around with Vic after they were finished. He did force himself to stop working from home under the guise of meeting with clients, even though that seemed like the easy way out. And he started spending weekends out doing things with Nicki or with Kalil and Maira or visiting his parents. Ted never could bring himself to mention Nicki to Vic though. He could never seem to get the words out.

Overall, he was ok.

At least that's what he kept telling himself. Because he was quickly finding out that maybe he had more in common with Uncle Peter than he ever thought he would. No matter how many evenings he spent out with Nicki, Ted still spent his nights wondering about Vic and thinking about the next time he'd get to see her. It was torturous, and Ted felt like a dick on all fronts for it.

"Have you two set a date then?" Ted asked Vic at the end of January. He was starting to wonder if she just wasn't going to tell him when her wedding was. She'd been engaged for over a month now.

Vic looked down at her keyboard and pursed her lips as she took a deep breath in through her nose. "Sean isn't sure yet."

Ted blinked. "Er, does, does he have things going on this year?"

"No." Vic frowned and gripped her hands together.

"Okay, then," Ted, again, wanted to pummel Sean.

What kind of arse wouldn't set a date with the woman he asked to marry him? And Ted was finally at the point where he wanted to scream at Vic. Why was she putting up with this? Why wouldn't she stand up for herself? Why couldn't she see she was worth more than Sean's crap?

"I just," Vic's voice cracked and Ted looked up to see tears slipping down her perfect cheeks.

"Hey," Ted wheeled his desk chair next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Vic covered her face with her hands. "You don't need to be worried about this."

Ted took a deep breath. "Vic, I'm your friend and I'm here if you need me. You obviously need someone to talk to, and if you want it to be me, I'm here."

Vic wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his blue dress shirt as she cried.

Don't be that guy, Kalil's voice rang in his mind, but Ted told him to shut up. Vic was upset and she needed someone she could turn to. If it could be him, why the freak not?

"I just don't understand what's happening. I thought things were going alright and ever since he proposed I feel like we've been completely off-kilter and at odds with each other. It's been horrible and he won't set a date and my mum is starting to worry and I just…" She hiccuped and started to sob harder.

"Hey," Ted pulled Vic closer and tried not to think about how right it felt to hold her. "I know it feels awful now, but I'm sure if you talk to him about it, you'll figure it out."

She shook her head, "He doesn't like it when I try to talk about things like this."

Ted bit his tongue to keep from saying what a prick he thought Sean was.

"Come on," Ted stood up and pulled her up with him. "We're skiving off for a bit. You need some cheering up, I don't have any calls, and I'm sure whatever you've got left for the day can wait for tomorrow."

Vic wiped her eyes, "Are you being serious?"

Ted chuckled at the joke she didn't know. "I'm not joking around, forward your desk phone, and grab your coat."

Finally, Vic smiled. "Yeah, alright, that sounds really nice."

Ted grinned. He thought it sounded pretty nice too, and when she was sitting shot-gun in his car again, no god-siblings in sight, Ted thought it sounded more than nice, it was almost perfect.

"Where are we going?" Vic started playing with his radio.

"Surprises aren't surprises if you know beforehand." Ted tsked and smiled at her.

"What about clues?"

Ted rolled his eyes, "You live for clues."

"No, I live for your clues." She laughed, and Ted tried to keep his face in check.

"Alright, a clue: my mum always says there are three things that make everything better. And we're going to get one of those things."

"What are the three things?"

"Really, Weasley, you think I'll just give away that information?" Ted laughed as he switched lanes.

"Fine, then what is a clue for where we're going?"

"You'll be able to speak with the owners."

Vic hit his arm. "That's a ridiculous clue!"

Ted laughed at her pout, so much more playful than her sobbing had been not fifteen minutes ago.

"We've established that I'm ridiculous and you find it endearing. Not to mention, it's actually a very good clue because I can't speak to the owners, just their son."

Vic frowned, "You can't speak to the owners, but you can speak to their son?"

"Yep," Ted grinned as he watched her wheels turn.

"Oh! The owners speak French, don't they?"

"What do you think?" Ted pulled off in front of a little shop that his parents had brought him to since he was a kid. Le Chocolat Expatrié was lit up bright with paper snowflakes in the window and Ted could smell the chocolate from the moment he opened his car door.

Vic's eyes were huge as Ted opened her door.

"I've never been here before. I thought Mum knew every French place in the city."

"I'm full of surprises, Weasley."

Ted hesitated a moment before offering his hand to help her out of his car. She took it instantly, and Ted felt his face break into a small smile.

But the magic was short-lived as Vic let go of his hand as soon as she was out of his car.

"Come on," Ted tried to shrug it off, "you'll love this place. And this is my treat, no arguing about paying for yourself."

Vic's smile was soft and Ted felt the familiar ache in his chest.

"Ok, no arguing."

Jaques stood behind the counter setting fresh chocolates out and Ted waved as he ushered Vic inside.

"Afternoon, Jaques. Can we start with two hot chocolates, please?"

Jaques smiled and nodded at Ted. "Sure thing, I'll have those right up."

"Your folks around? The mademoiselle speaks French, and I told her she might get to speak it today."

Jaques gave Ted a grin that spoke louder than words. "My mum is, I'll see if she's not too busy to come and say bonjour."

Then he nodded to Vic and spoke in French. Vic instantly blushed and licked her lips as she replied. Jaques laughed and said something else before disappearing into the back room.

"He wasn't saying anything he shouldn't, right?" Ted watched Jaques go, wishing he hadn't given up on learning French all those years ago.

"No," Vic bit her lip and toyed with her gloves, "He asked if I was your girlfriend. I told him we were just friends."

Ted chuckled, "Yeah, they're my nosy neighbors, sort of. I've had my hair turquoise since I was eleven, and I've never seen my mum's hair any color but pink, so we stand out in their minds. Plus, we come here a lot."

"Got to get your chocolate fix, Lupin?" Vic chuckled as she sat down at one of the three small tables against the wall.

Ted sat across from her, "I happen to be quite fond of chocolate, at least this chocolate."

Vic laughed, "You say that like you're picky."

"I am, well now at any rate. My Uncle Sirius had a business trip to the States, and for a joke brought us kids some cheap American chocolate. It was rubbish, honestly, our halfpenny chocolate is better. So, I've learned to specify." Ted smiled at Vic's laughter.

"That's a cruel prank to play on children!"

"Uncle Sirius isn't so bad, but he definitely likes a good laugh."

Vic laughed as she slipped her gloves off, but Ted noticed that she left her engagement ring in the finger of her glove.

Ted started to point it out to her, but Madam Rousseau walked out carrying a tray with their hot chocolates.

"Mercí beaucoup," he smiled at the woman who felt a little bit like a great-aunt he couldn't understand or really speak to.

Vic thanked her and then Madame Rousseau pulled a chair over to their little table for two. Ted spent the next fifteen minutes drinking his hot chocolate and listening to Vic speak French.

Not a bad way to pass an afternoon.

Suddenly, Madame Rousseau clapped her hands together and stood before disappearing into the back room.

Vic smiled at him. "She's bringing us some croissants she baked yesterday."

Ted blinked, "Really? They don't sell those." He turned back to the menu board to make sure and found no mentions of croissants anywhere.

Vic laughed, "She baked them for some friends that were visiting from France and is going to let us each have one."

"She must really like you," Ted laughed. "I've never had her give me baked goods."

"What does she normally give you?"

"The chocolate I pay for and a ruffle of my hair." Ted shrugged his shoulders as Vic laughed.

"She likes you," Vic smirked and brought her mug to her lips.

"Think she'll run away with me?"

Vic nearly snorted hot chocolate out her nose and Ted nearly felt bad about it, but he was laughing too hard.

"I hate you," Vic laughed and coughed as she covered her mouth and nose with her napkin.

"No, you don't," Ted gained control of his laughter a fraction more than Vic had as she tried to calm her coughing.

Vic wiped the water from her eyes and smiled that soft smile again.

"You're right, I don't hate you. I think you're a pretty amazing bloke."

Then Madame Rousseau brought out the most delicious tasting croissants he'd ever had and Ted used it as the reason he didn't respond. Because all he wanted to ask was if he was more amazing or less amazing than her fiancé, her fiancé who wouldn't set a wedding date with her.

"This has been really nice, Ted," Vic smiled as she climbed in his car.

"Good," Ted handed her the box of chocolates he had Jaques put together for them. "See, chocolate makes everything better."

"The company helps too."

Ted didn't dare look at her. He couldn't. Everything he wanted to say was sitting just on the tip of his tongue. The fact that over the last six months he'd fallen in love with her, that Ted felt Sean was a poor excuse for a boyfriend, let alone a fiancé, and that Ted wanted to be so much more than her coworker or friend.

But Ted didn't say any of that. Instead, he gestured to the box of chocolates on her lap.

"You should try the hazelnut truffle; those are their best."

Vic was quiet for a moment before Ted heard her open the box and pull out the chocolate.

She hummed happily, "You're right, these are amazing!"

Ted gave her a small smile. This afternoon had been both amazing and torturous, but he was sure of one thing now that it was coming to an end; he couldn't keep doing this, spending time with her away from work, laughing, having fun. It was just too much, too hard to keep his emotions in check, too hard to keep his rule about not touching her, too hard to bite his tongue and not say everything he felt.

He pulled into the car park and tried to keep all those emotions off his face as he looked over at her.

"Thanks," Vic smiled, "I really needed that."

"Sure, I'm glad it helped." Ted gripped the steering wheel, trying to ground himself somehow.

"I need to run back in, I left my wedding binder in the office." Vic undid her seatbelt.

And there it was, the slap in the face of reality.

"Right, I'll, er, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Vic stepped out onto the pavement, "Bye, Ted."

Ted looked up at her smiling face and swallowed, "Bye, Vic."

He watched her walk back into the building before pulling out of the car park and started heading home but changed his mind a few moments later. He turned around and started heading to his parents' home.

"Mum? Dad?" He called as he let himself inside.

"Teddy?" His mum stepped into the hall and nearly knocked over a stack of books on the hall table.

"Hey, Mum, is Dad around too maybe?"

"He just got home and is upstairs changing, is everything alright?"

"I need help." Ted moved to the kitchen table and rested his head in his hands.

A moment later both his parents were sitting on either side of him.

"What's going on, son?" His dad put his hand on his shoulder.

And Ted started the story. How he had known from the beginning that Vic was taken. How he had justified spending time with her for the sake of taking their little corner of the company and turning it into something huge. How he had slowly fallen in love with Vic. How he had hoped she'd someday wake up and realize he was the better man. How Vic had said yes to Sean's proposal. How Uncle Peter's encouragement had been his excuse to keep waiting around. How he had more or less convinced her to skive off the last half of the workday to take her on what felt so much like a date. And how finally, he'd realized he couldn't keep this up. He couldn't keep pretending that he could be her friend and nothing more.

He couldn't keep doing this.

"Teddy, you need to tell her how you feel." His mum took his hand. "She deserves to know how you feel about her. It isn't fair to keep her in the dark like this."

"Sounds great, Mum, and when she shoots me down, then what? Do I just go to work every day and pretend I didn't say anything?" Ted rubbed at the headache that he had come to live with since Vic accepted Sean's proposal.

"Ron did say if you proved yourself, he'd let you transfer into the marketing department for Bread & Butter." His dad pointed out. "Maybe that's an option, and if it isn't, you can always move back here until you get your feet back on the ground."

Ted swallowed. This had suddenly become very real and very raw very fast.

"We'll be here, whatever happens, Teddy." His mum squeezed his hand. "If she decides she doesn't return your feelings, and you don't think you can keep working there, then we'll get you through it. And if she does return your feelings, then we'll be here to support you in that as well."

"Thanks," Ted nodded and tried to push away the dread that was building in his gut.

"How about some dinner?" His dad rubbed his shoulder. "We've got leftover Irish stew from yesterday."

"Thanks," Ted nodded, "That sounds really great right now."

He was still feeling like his world was imploding on itself when he got home that night. And he'd decided to just go to bed when his phone rang.

"Hey, Nicki," Ted sighed.

"Whoa, you alright?"

"Yeah, just a long day." Ted sat down on his bed.

"Well, I might just be your favorite person then."

"Nicki, I'm not going pub hopping on a Thursday."

"No, but you are working a sales job when you'd rather be working a marketing job. And guess who's place of work is opening up a marketing position tomorrow morning?" There was a note of excitement in her voice - like she wanted him to work where she worked. "If you send me your resume, I can give it to the hiring manager first thing tomorrow morning. You'd be on their desk before anyone else."

Ted felt everything in him freeze. This would be the perfect out. He wouldn't even have to ask Ron to move him. He could slide out of all their lives and go back to happily knowing just one Weasley who was now Potter. He could pretend like he never even met Vic. Sure he'd lose out on being Ron's front runner, but knowing now that would most likely mean working with Vic while she went on to marry and start a life with someone else, well that scenario seemed more like torture than a dream.

"Ted, are you there?" Nicki's voice sounded in his ear.

"Er, yeah, sorry, I, er, I just, I'm speechless. Yes, thank you, I'll send you my resume just as soon as we hang up."

"Great! Do you want to go pub hopping tomorrow then? Celebrate that maybe we could get you into your preferred profession?"

Ted tried to chuckle as he lied, "Let's plan on touching base on Saturday, I promised my folks I'd help them out tomorrow after work."

"Sounds like a plan, have fun with your folks, and don't forget to send me that resume."

"I'll send it right over."

"Good, see you soon, Ted."

"Right, g'night."

Ted hung up and opened his laptop to update his resume with working sales with Bread & Butter before sending it off to Nicki. He knew this meant he would need to face his fate soon and he determined it would have to be tomorrow. Tomorrow was Friday, so it would work out that if she shut him down, he'd have the weekend to hide in a hole and die inside. And on that cheery thought, Ted tried to fall asleep.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Ted spent Friday on edge.

He was going to tell Vic at the end of the day. He was going to confess that he loved her, and if she shot him down, he'd work from home on Monday and call Ron to see if he could transfer to the marketing department. Then he'd just work from home until he either got a new job or Ron told him he had to stop - at which point he'd quit and deal with the fallout.

Ted couldn't concentrate. He got nothing done. It was all Ted could do to answer the few calls from his clients. His brain wouldn't even let him play solitaire, and he couldn't manage to joke around with Vic.

Finally, the workday ended.

"Hey, Vic," Ted slipped his laptop into his backpack after he'd forwarded his desk phone to his cell. "Can I, can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure," Vic smiled at him as she went to the sink to refill her water bottle.

Ted moved to stand against the refrigerator.

"I, er, I," He took a deep breath, "Vic, I'm in love with you."

She dropped her water bottle in the sink and the clattering of it seemed to echo in the small office space.

"What?" She turned and looked at him with wide eyes.

"I just, I needed you to know, you deserve to know."

"Ted! Ted, you're my best friend!"

"Yeah," Ted looked down at his shoes, "But somewhere along the way I went from you being my best friend to being the woman I was in love with."

"Ted, Ted," she hugged her arms around her waist, "Ted, what, what am I supposed to do?"

Ted couldn't look up at her, he couldn't handle it, seeing the betrayal she surely felt on her beautiful face.

"I just needed to say it, I just needed you to know where I stand."

"Ted," she grabbed his hand and Ted finally gave in and looked at her.

She had stepped right next to him, close enough that if he shifted to the right a fraction, he would be pressed up against her.

"Vic, are you really going to marry Sean?"

Her face fell and she bit her lip. "Ted…"

"Vic, please, just tell me."

"Ted, Ted, you're my best friend." She squeezed his hand and Ted shook his head.

"Don't, just," he sighed and realized this whole thing had definitely gone south. This was it. He'd never see Vic again.

And maybe that's why he leant in, maybe that's why he gave her hand a soft tug, maybe that's why he brought his lips to hers.

He thought she'd pull back immediately; he was even prepared for her to smack him.

But she didn't.

Vic's other hand moved to his chest and she tilted her face closer to his. And Ted moved out of instinct as he wrapped his other hand around her waist. Her lips were so soft and she fit so perfectly against him. He felt like he was flying. All the times he'd thought about what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her skin under his hands, all his imagining couldn't compare to what slanting his lips across hers and gripping her waist actually felt like. For a moment he forgot this wasn't going to end well, that this moment was stolen in almost the worst way possible.

But it was heaven, and he wanted to die right there.

Until Vic pulled back.

"Ted," she bit her lip, then opened her mouth to say more but nothing came out.

"Right," he let go of her hand, "take care of yourself. I'll look for your book when you get it published."

He stepped away from her and took one last look at her distraught face before he turned around, grabbed his backpack from his desk, and walked out the door.

[pynkhues]

3 7 22!!

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

I answered this one here, but I will say I forever want to write more scenes with just the girls, particularly pre-canon scenes, so I thought I might share a scene from my ridiculously belated prompt-a-thon fill which is 10 times Ruby’s danced, and this scene is about Beth and Ruby while Beth’s in labour with Emma, and Ruby’s pregnant with Harry. 

Below a cut to save your feeds!

-

“I kinda figured we’d just arrange the thing.”

She’s only half serious when she says it, but it’s worth it to see Beth’s head jerk, her eyebrows somewhere up near her forehead even as her cheeks are still flushed red, her chest still heaving.

“You have been watching way too many old romances,” she tells her, amusement thick in her tone, and Ruby shrugs, rocking the baby carrier beside her when Danny starts to whine.

“Please, you’re the one who made us go see Fiddler on the Roof three times at the Revival Theatre. If it wasn’t for that, I’d never even know about the whole matchmaker thing with your people.”

“My people,” Beth scoffs, red creeping up her neck. “Besides, the whole point of Fiddler on the Roof was that he had to learn how to let his daughters choose who they married. That they couldn’t just arrange -  - ah.”

Beth exhales sharply, squirming back into her seat, hands balling, white knuckled at the arms of the chair, and she has to be close, Ruby thinks, dropping her hand to Beth’s back, rubbing soothing circles there as she tries to catch the attention of one of the nurses. They barely seem to even see them though amidst the crowded waiting room, beelining to patients with - - what even is that? A rash? Ruby side eyes the nurse taking the man out of the waiting room, before turning her attention back to Beth.

“What was that whole do you love me song about then, huh?” Ruby says. “Him and his wife had been matched, and those two were in it, y’know?”

“It’s generational. The parents do what they have to so the kids can have it better,” Beth insists, but she hasn’t opened her eyes yet, her eyelashes matted together with her clumping mascara and tears, and Ruby sighs, sitting forwards as best she can with her own pregnant belly in the way. New plan, Ruby tells herself. They are never pregnant at the same time again. One of them needs to run point, and she can’t send Stan out with Kenny and Sara forever.

“Where’s Dean?”

“I called Boland Motors,” Ruby promises. “He wasn’t at his desk, and honestly that new secretary of his is - -”

Well, Ruby thinks a little dryly.

She’s something.

Beth squirms back in her seat, panting a little now, and the contractions really are getting closer together, even if her waters haven’t broken yet. Maybe they’ll have to pop that bag for her – they had to do it with Danny after all –her gaze darts sideways to check on him in his stroller, but he’s fallen asleep again.  

“So, how do you wanna do it?” Ruby asks, keeping her tone light. “We gotta get this thing on paper.”

It’s enough to make Beth twist her neck sideways, to peel open her watery eyes in confusion, and Ruby waits until she has Beth’s full attention before she gestures down to her own swollen belly.

“Stan Junior here is gonna be a catch. I’m just saying. Beth Junior there might want to lock it down.”

Beth’s laugh is strangled between her breathlessness, the pain of her contractions, but god, it’s music to Ruby’s ears.

“Oh, Stan Junior will definitely be a catch,” Beth agrees, the sweat curling her hair at her temples. The contraction seems to pass, and Beth smooths her own hand over her belly, still panting. “Lilies for the wedding?”

Ruby hums in approval, only to pause, squint a little below the bright glare of the hospital fluorescents.

“Wait. Do they get married at a church or a synagogue?”

“Neither,” Beth says, brushing her hair away from her face with a trembling hand, her eyes fixing briefly on Danny, sleeping in his stroller. “I feel like we should get a vacation out of it.”

“Oh, you’re planning a beach wedding now?” Ruby asks with a grin, the thing only faltering when the doors open again but - - no. Just a nurse, brandishing her clipboard. Still no Dean. Typical.

Beth hums, like she hadn’t even noticed, looking back at Ruby, her blue eyes bright, and there’s something that feels like Beth in it again, something warm, impish, as she wrinkles her nose, considering, and Ruby can’t help it, the way it feels like a key that unlocks her.

“White sand, the ocean,” Beth says. “We’d probably need to hire a marquee.”

“And a beach bar,” Ruby agrees, grinning a little when Beth rolls her eyes, waving a hand at her innocuously, before she says:

“Well, that goes without saying.”

And Ruby just laughs at that, sinking back briefly into her hard backed hospital chair (which is one-thousand percent not designed for anyone at all ever) before leaning forwards again, standing up two of her fingers like legs and walking them from one side of her belly to the other, over the arms of the chairs, and up the side of Beth’s twitching belly.

“Miss Boland, before you depart your mother, do you take this little man growing inside me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

It really is magic, Ruby thinks again, the sound of Beth’s laugh. The real one she hears less and less often, the one that makes her throw her head back, her eyes crinkle, the sound a little low, a little husky, the one she knows Dean can never get out of her, and that at least feels like a truth. That Beth is still hers. That she’ll never lose her, not entirely, to Dean, no matter how many photo ops she goes to, no matter how many times she defers to him, no matter how much she dims her light to grow his.

Beth props her own fingers up then, mirroring Ruby’s action and walking them up over the swell of her own belly, meeting Ruby’s fingers in the middle.

“My daughter is running a little late, but I believe I have the permission to speak for her this evening,” Beth says gravely, lowering her voice. “And she says ‘I do’. Now, Mr. Hill, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“He does,” Ruby says, face split in two with a grin. She lets her eyes slip shut and her tone lower in faux-seriousness. “Finally, our two houses united.”

“Well, our husbands’ houses,” Beth says wryly, and Ruby tilts her head, conceding.  

“That’s true. I think ours have been united a lot longer than this.”

She smiles over at Beth affectionately, but it just - - it floors her, the look Beth gives her back. Her eyes wide open, suddenly wet again, pupils darting across Ruby’s face like she’s - - like she’s looking for the lie, and when she doesn’t see it, she tangles her fingers with Ruby’s, quick as she can, mumbling something about a first dance and holds Ruby’s hand tight to her belly, swaying a little – as if to hide the fact that maybe she just wanted to hold her.

To be held.

And Ruby holds her hand back all the tighter.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

I am sure everyone would love me to stop talking about light and using ‘- -’, haha. 

But honestly? I actually don’t know how others perceive my style. Like I’ve said in other posts, I’ve been told my writing is extremely feminine by industry professionals, which I believe translates to being interested in women’s lives and writing fairly descriptively (masculine prose is usually v bare bones ala Raymond Carver and, of course, Hemingway). 

I think some of the characteristics of my writing is that it’s sensory and descriptive, that I like untidy endings, that no relationship is perfect. I think (and hope) I prioritise relationships between women, even with shipper fic, that my sex scenes (again, hopefully, haha) never feel pointless or isolated from the story, and I think I’m pretty good at metaphor, but others might disagree! Who knows! 

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

Y’know, I usually don’t? By the time I post something, I’ve usually re-read it so many times I lowkey hate it, haha, and reading it just makes me feel very self-conscious. I can see the machinery of my own writing I suppose. I can see the bits I’m proud of, sure, but I can also see the bits where I got lazy, the places where the pacing isn’t quite right, the parts where I think I’m too heavy-handed. 

That said, I did re-read all of C&C recently as I was building the timeline masterpost I posted about a month ago now, but also building a better story bible for myself to write new stories, and I was really surprised by how much I enjoyed being in that world again as a reader? 

Particularly the last installment I posted of Playing House - ‘Animalia’ (otherwise known as the zoo chapter, haha) - I really, really hated when I posted. I’d had a few set-backs in my original writing professionally at that time, and then I had seen someone make an unkind comment about my fics which just sort of hit a nerve at a bad time. It meant I was extra critical of my own writing, and I loved the story in my head, but felt it wasn’t translating well onto the page. 

I got to a point where I was like - - well, whatever, I don’t want to look at it, and I know people like this ‘verse, so maybe they’ll overlook how crap it is’. I got such a lovely response to it at the time, but I still felt badly about it, and so re-reading it this time, and being like ‘hang on, Past Sophie, you’re an asshole, this is pretty good’ was a nice feeling, haha.

[lovelahela]

❛ it lives in the woods ❜ ─ prologue

⇢ masterlist ; check masterlist for fancast!

⇢ pairing: noah marshall x f!mc (marisol reyes)

⇢ genre: horror

⇢ chapter: zero (prologue)

⇢ words: 2687

⇢ description: something old and powerful lives in the woods surrounding the small town of westchester... something that knows their names. tensions flare, old wounds are reopened, and lives hang in the balance of one, very important question: are you scared?

⇢ notes + warning: this story will include disturbing scenes, potentially dark/triggering subjects (including but not limited to underage substance/alcohol abuse, depression, anxiety) and strong language. reader discretion is advised.

        Tonight, the moon is playing peek-a-boo, weaving in and out of ribbons of black clouds scudding across the sky. Accompanying the flickering radiance of lampposts scattered across the small town of Westchester, the light of the moon stretched across the vast cluster of trees that surrounded it and to a cosy, modern house far away from said lampposts that stood out significantly next to the worn-out, withering shack that stood meters away from it. The town was characteristically quiet, its folk invested in whatever dream of winning the lottery and marrying the most good-looking Hollywood actor they were having. It was almost peaceful.

        The functioning word here being almost.

        Inside that modern little house lay a young teenage girl, fast asleep in the comfort of her mattress and scented candles. Marisol Reyes tried very hard to be normal, thank you very much. She ran two clubs, maintained outstanding grades, and managed Westchester High's successful swimming team as an efficient captain. Some might even say she was one of the "popular kids," but she was no where near that (proven by the constant degradation courtesy of Britney and her posse), and preferred to keep it that way. All Marisol wanted was to blend, to be away from the spotlight - she had enough of it after being drowned in all the wrong kinds of attention when one of her best friends perished a decade ago. Being pointed at by judgemental kids and gossiping parents took a toll on her, and she swore to go out of her way to erase the devastating, untimely death of Jane Marshall from her life - she would never be the "best friend of that girl who died" ever again.

        Although Marisol strongly refused her mother Soledad's advice to see a child psychologist and cope with the horrible trauma that cost her her childhood, she insisted that she was able to, get over it. She pushed aside the recurrent nightmares and the obsession with self-defense and martial arts classes, plastered on a smile, and said she was fine - every single time, all through the ten years of looking over shoulder and denying just how damaged she really was.

        The sound of violent vibrations against a wooden surface startled Marisol Reyes out of her uncharacteristically peaceful slumber. She jumped out of her bed and grabbed the kitchen knife that always lied stoically on her bedside table like a war veteran, hair frazzled and muscles tense. The focus of her almond-shaped eyes darted around the room frantically, fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Once she could not make out an outline of an intruder in the darkness that enveloped the area, she realized the vibrations were coming from her phone, buzzing enthusiastically with text notifications. She groaned at her overreaction to such a harmless event while rubbing the sleep from her eyes and picked up the small electronic device in her tense hands.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:12 AM

UNKNOWN NUMBER

marisol, you there?

it's dan.

i messed up. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry

Mark as spam?

Block number?

        "Oh my God..." whispered Marisol, rereading that one text over and over again to make sure she didn't imagine it.

        it's dan.

        Those two words stole the breath and heat from her very skin. Suddenly her defenses are like paper, paper being soaked by rapidly falling rain drops. Dan Pierce. They hadn't spoken since the tragic incident a decade prior - after the funeral, the eight children went their separate ways, determined carry the truth behind that catastrophe with them to the grave no matter how deep they buried it inside of them. She debated replying - she hadn't so much as greeted him in so many years, and suddenly he bombards her phone with frantic messages in the middle of the night? Something seemed off. Marisol could practically feel danger creeping up slowly but surely behind her.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:15 AM

DAN PIERCE

marisol?

MARISOL

dan, hey.

it's been a while, u okay? what's up?

DAN PIERCE

i went into the woods.

i had to be sure, i had to prove to myself that he wasn't real.

that it was all in our heads.

but he is, mari. he's real. it was all real.

read 3:16 AM

        Marisol's previously tense hands began shivering vigorously along with the rest of her limbs, all of them weakening by the second. She closed her eyes and drew in long, deep breaths, attempting to calm down and muster up whatever courage she had left. She wasn't sure if the texts she responded with were an attempt to convince Dan, or herself.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:17 AM

MARISOL

hey man, u sure ure not drunk?

DAN PIERCE

he was whispering, just like when we were kids.

MARISOL

dan, please stop.

we made all that stuff up, we were kids.

mr red was just a dumb game that spun out of control.

we made it all up.

DAN PIERCE

 he does. he's with me right now.

MARISOL

for fuck's sake dan

if ure in the woods get out NOW

it's not safe in the dark

DAN PIERCE

i can hear him in the trees.

i can hear him whispering...

read 3:18 AM

        Marisol hissed a long string of curse words, fumbling around in the dark for her jacket. It didn't matter that they lost touch with each other, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him - of losing someone else in the disbanded group that she once would have said she trusted with her life. Maybe, if you dug deep enough through the traumatic, emotional baggage she lugged around every waking moment, she still would.

        Just as she snatched the keys to her mother's car (which she was only allowed to use in the case of an emergency, much to her dismay), someone rapped the window harshly, startling a shriek out of her. Her phone slipped out of her hands and landed on the wooden floorboard with an upsetting thud, just barely illuminating the room with a disturbing glow.

        With the manner of a paranoid animal about to get preyed on viciously, Marisol snuck a peek at the window. Her blood ran cold when she made out the shape of what she was hoping was a human. Wasting no time, she jumped towards her lamp and turned it on. A yellow light filled just enough of the vicinity - enough to see that the man waiting outside her window was none other than Dan. She heaved out a relieved sigh and opened the window  (reluctantly so), ushering him inside outside of the chilly embrace of the crisp night.

        He climbed into his former friend's bedroom, hoodie dirtied by mud and hints of dead leaves. His long hair was unkempt, his eyes were accompanied by worrying and prominent bruises under them, and what used to be his beautifully tanned skin was then pale and sickly as though he was near death itself. Dan sat hunched over on the floor like a frail puppet being held up by a single fraying string. It was horribly peculiar to see him like this - he always held himself with confidence, tall and muscular frame towering over even those taller than him. To see him lying on her floor, so vulnerable and beaten down, it was heartbreaking to say the least.

        "God, Dan, what happened to you?" asked Marisol, eyes softened with concern as she scanned his body for the injuries littered on his skin and mud staining his clothes. He looked up at her, expression shallow, striking a faint but growing fear inside of her. "How... how did you even get here? We're on the second floor."

        "I climbed." His answer was curt and simple, no emotion to his voice at all. Nothing in his eyes or the tone of his voice supported the signs of terrifying struggle that blemished him. Marisol gulped.

        "Oooookay, Spider-Man!" Nervous laughter cut through the uncomfortable silence choking them. She frowned and took small, careful steps forward as to not startle him. She crouched down to look him in the eyes as calmly as she should, slowly pulling down the zipper of his hoodie.

        "Listen, bud, why don't you take a shower? I'll wash your clothes, give you some of my dad's, and you can tell me happened, yeah?" Her voice was low and soft, as though she was consoling a frightened child. Peeling the hoodie off his slouched shoulders, she avoided his eyes, which were - very creepily - trained on her paling face. She sighed, visibly relieved when he decided to focus on the string of Polaroid pictures and what looked like dozens of framed award certificates hung up on her wall, suddenly completely neglecting her physical existence next to his enfeebled body.

        "I'm fine." His words resembled that of an accused, soulless criminal awaiting his punishment in court, perfectly trained to deny his guilt to his grave no matter what the situation was — it seemed to rehearsed. Then, abruptly, his head snapped in her direction and he grabbed her forearms tightly, staring at her with wide, crazed eyes. She could have sworn she felt all of her internal organs cease functioning for a split second and yelped pathetically. "Come on! We need to get the others!"

        Her breath hitched in her throat. She searched and searched her brain for the proper response, hyper-aware of the growing madness that distorted his handsome face. When she spoke, the pitch of her voice was a bit too high for her liking. "What — What others?"

        Dan's hold on her tightened noticeably, causing her to flinch and whimper involuntarily. A curt, mad laugh that sounded like one the Joker himself would utter left his lips. "Our friends, of course! Noah, Lily, Ava, Lucas, Andy, Stacy — the whole gang!" Another laugh that deepened the pit in her stomach, a laugh that would haunt her for days.

        Suddenly, Marisol regretted turning away psychological help. The rate of her breathing quickened anxiously as she felt a gate in her mind burst open, letting unwanted memories flood it mercilessly at the mention of their names. She could not see Dan anymore, only flashing images of ruins, of an eerie forest, and of nine children irresponsibly skipping through the trees, on their way to revisit the entity that would then change their lives forever. Her eyes were coated with a glossy sheen of tears that were more than ready to flow down her cheeks against her weakening will. When she finally mustered the courage to speak again, she whispered: "I've barely spoken to them for years, Dan. Not since Jane — "

        Before she could register what was happening, Dan stood up and pulled her with him with an unimaginable force that was sure to leave bruises. Their faces were uncomfortably close, so close she could smell the scent of blood and dirt that replaced his usual cologne. He stared at her like an enraged panther, tiny bubbles of froth forming at the corners of his mouth and face contorted with a venomous outburst. Fear was struck inside her that she felt in her very core — she almost thought he would kill her right then and there. "They have to come. Everyone has to be there. That's the rule."

        She could feel the sweat trickle down her neck, the throbbing of her tear-filled eyes, the ringing screaming of a little girl in her ears, and the thumping of her horror-stricken heart against her chest. "Rule?"

        The world stilled around them. Suddenly, she could not hear a single thing, not even her own breathing — only the awfully familiar words that the boy hissed: "Everyone plays together."

        Marisol could not have been more thankful for the sound of her phone buzzing yet again against the floorboards. She took that as an excuse to gingerly wiggle out of his loosened grip and, with shaking legs, approached her cell and picked it up. A crack tarnished the previously pristine screen, but she decided to worry about that later when it was a more appropriate time to fret over a slightly broken phone. 

        But what she saw was her breaking point. Her free hand reached up to cover her mouth and stifle a sob threatening to spill out of her quivering lips and before she could control it a steady flow of salty tears coated her cheeks.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:26 AM

DAN PIERCE

are you still there?

i think i'm lost

marisol? my battery's almost dead, please help me!!

read 3:26 AM

        The shock ricocheted up her skeleton; an enormous engulfing terror made her feel so, so sick in her mind and body. She's seen darkness before, the kind that makes an empty street look like an old-fashioned photograph, but this was different — this was the kin of darkness that robbed her of her common sense and replaced it with a paralyzing fear. By her genes, she is a predator with the intelligence and perceptive eyes to hunt, but in that moment, she felt like a helpless prey. Marisol slowly rose from the illuminating screen of her phone, her wide, suspicious eyes meeting his. 

        "Dan?" She sniffled weakly.

        Although his eyes were cold an empty, right underneath them a grin stretched his lips impossibly from one ear to the other, radiating clear indications of raging madness.

        "Marisol."

        She lunged for the knife on her bedside table yet again, shrieking as he took large and quick steps towards her violently shaking form. She searched desperately for an escape route that wasn't blocked by the towering body of the intruder in front of her but to no avail. He grabbed her wrist with a bone-crushing hold, squeezing yet another helpless screech out of her. Her voice broke when she cried out: "Dan, please! Don't make me do this!"

        And he did nothing but widen the frightening smile that would permanently etch itself into her retinas, haunting her every time she closed her eyes.

        So Marisol did the only logical thing her frantic brain could come up with — with a heart-wrenching scream, pained by having to inflict pain on a friend who was once very dear to her, she drove the blade of the knife into his abdomen. Much to her increasing horror, he did not so much as flinch at the pain, only tightened the hold around her throbbing wrist. He merely growled like a feral animal, burning holes into her with his enraged gaze. "Wrong move."

        Dan tackled her effortlessly to the floor, straddling her hips and forcing her into a cage that she would never break out of in her wildest dreams. He smashed her head against the rough surface underneath her, darkening her fading vision. "We all have to go back, remember?"

        "LEAVE ME ALONE! GET — OFF — ME!" She thrashed in his hold, no longer attempting to swallow the sobs. Finally, after agonizing attempts to kick and thrash and flail, she was able to free one of her hands and in result scraped her previously perfectly manicured fingernails down the skin of his face.

         A cry of disgust and disbelief bounced off the walls of the room when it peeled right off, revealing putrid flesh under it. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, leaving her to stare into milky whiteness while the stink of stale dirt burned the  insides of her nostrils. His long, skinny fingers curled around her neck, pressing, closing with a lack of mercy or remorse, feeling like tendrils wound around her oxygen supply. Despite her lungs blazing with agony, Marisol continued to fight fruitlessly until her energy started to dissipate like water going down a drain. Her hands fell to her side and her body grew limp, using her last breath to scream for help that, somewhere in the back of her min, she knew would never come. The last thing she saw before she embraced the coming blackness of unconsciousness was the ghastly monster that rendered her powerless and savagely tore open her old wounds.

[bluesfortheredj]

Modern Romance Chapter 30.

Excitement builds in my stomach as we make our way back to where it all began, our hands firmly linked together as we walk through the doors and into the main level where sits a huge fountain in the Turbine hall. We stand for a moment, staring at it with intrigue from our head on view of the installation, and out of the corner of my eye I see her raise her hand to the small yet oh so significant bump that’s hidden beneath her coat.

“Is everything alright?” I ask as I turn to face her.

“Everything’s perfect,” she smiles, meeting my loving gaze, “I just want them to know how special this moment is.”

“And why is it so special?” I grin, pulling on her hand and now wrapping my arms around her body as she cuddles into my body.

“We’re back to the scene of the crime, as it were,” she chuckles.

“You’d call it a crime?” I ask as I press my lips to her head.

“Well, you did steal my heart that day… And come to think of it, you haven’t given it back yet,” she laughs in embarrassment, “oh my god that sounded so corny!”

“It did, and I loved it,” I chuckle.

She slips from my grip then takes my hand and we walk towards the stairs so we can go up to the main galleries. I want to stop her, to pull her towards the lifts instead so she doesn’t exert herself, but I’ve already been scalded for making a fuss over her at least fifty times since we found out she was pregnant. It had been a light at the end of a very dark tunnel for us; she’d moved back home for a couple of weeks after a fallout over my ever changing schedule which would cause me to miss the debut of her first independent collection at a private showing, and I’d worried it would be the end of us. That was until she’d phoned with the news and after gunning it down the motorway to her parents’ house, we ended up talking everything out and realising that all that mattered was us; now a three instead of a two.

We take a silent walk around the galleries on each floor, me asking whether she needs to take a seat for a moment every so often and I’m met with the same exasperated gaze each time, sometimes even a little nudge in the ribs to go along with it. She gasps with delight when she spots works of art by the greats like Picasso, Kandinsky, Dali, and Monet, and quickly documents the moment by taking snapshots on her phone. I slip my own device out of my pocket to capture this moment with her; the side on view showing me the beginnings of her bump perfectly, and I take a few photos so that this day is always remembered.

“Hey, do you fancy some lunch?” I ask as I walk up to her side and place a hand on her stomach.

“I’m alright for the moment actually,” she replies with a smile, “come on, we have more exploring to do!”

“Ten more minutes, then I’m going to need something before round two of exploration,” I say, knowing that we’re already running late for what I had planned.

“Okay, deal,” she nods.

We wander into the next gallery as I take subtle glances at my watch to ensure it was literally only ten minutes before we headed up to the restaurant, but I can’t stay tense for too long as I watch the love of my life stare in awe at every single piece of art we pass, and it brings me right back to that first day; the day that unexpectedly changed my life completely. Our meeting seemed to set the course of our relationship, a happy accident that wasn’t planned in the slightest, and we’ve definitely always kept to taking things at our own pace rather than under the influence of anyone else.

Sure, we became a couple quickly then moved in together within a matter of months, but neither of us would change a thing about what happened, and we’ve learnt so much along the way. Now here we are, almost two years to the day since we met, and we’re here as a family instead of a couple. It’s mind blowing really, and we sure didn’t have any plans to have children so soon, but again it’s just the way things work with us; another happy accident to add to the rest, and we’re already overwhelmed with love for the little muffin growing inside her, as are our families.

“Right, food?” I ask after nine minutes.

“Yeah,” she sighs, turning to me with a tired expression.

“Are you alright?”

“I just need to sit down and have some food I think,” she says softly as she reaches out for my arm to steady herself.

“Woah there. Let’s get you a seat.”

I help her out to the chairs next to the escalators then sit her down so I can get the bottle of water out of her bag for her to take a few sips from, and she gives me a thankful nod as she drinks.

“Better?” I ask.

“Yes thank you. I’m okay, it’s just this little one draining my battery a little prematurely,” she chuckles, “they must be having a growth spurt.”

“Or maybe you should get to the doctor?” I suggest.

“You worry too much,” she smiles, “come on, are you taking me for lunch or not?”

She stands up with a slight wobble but brushes it off quickly as she links her arm through mine so we can make our way up to the restaurant where, unbeknownst to her, people are eagerly waiting for our arrival. I may have pulled a couple of strings when it came to hiring the main restaurant for a few hours this afternoon, but to be fair I don’t use my status for anything else so I think that this is allowed, especially for (Y/N) and what’s hopefully about to happen.

“Do you remember what happened here?” I ask as we go to the next floor up and walk off the escalator.

She laughs and nods, “how could I forget? It was here that you asked if I was listening to Queen.”

We shuffle to the side a little until we’re almost in the exact same place as we were before, and her hands run up the front of my coat until they’re resting on my shoulders.

“I have a little something for you,” I whisper as I reach into my coat pocket and my heart begins to beat at an alarmingly fast rate.

“You didn’t have to!” she smiles.

“Oh, I did. Trust me, I did.”

I drop from her hands until I’m on one knee in front of her with the small box now open in my hands and she instantly clamps both hands over her mouth as her eyes grow wider than I’ve ever seen them, then I see the tears before I’ve even uttered one word.

“I couldn’t think of a better place to do this than here,” I begin as people stop to watch us, “you’re the love of my life (Y/N), and I can’t imagine my future without you in it. So would you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me and becoming my wife?”

She nods fervently as tears fall over her wrists, then she manages to lower her hands so I can see her mouthing the word yes over and over again until I hear it come from her lips in a strained whisper. I sigh with relief before standing up as the small crowd around us cheers and claps, then I take the ring out of the box and slip it onto her finger, already looking forward to when I get to do this again on our wedding day. We kiss and the people around suddenly melt away into the background as soon as our lips connect, then when we part I gently wipe away those happy tears of hers as I blink back my own.

“Right, I think we need something to eat after all that excitement don’t we?” I laugh while I rub my eyes a little.

She nods silently as we walk past all the people who had gathered, giving them shy smiles while we make our way to the next level where everyone’s waiting.

“Oh, it’s closed for a private function,” (Y/N) frowns as she notices the piece of paper on the door.

“Let’s crash it then,” I grin, opening the door and tugging her in behind me.

“Gwilym!” she chuckles.

We walk in until I can see the gathering of our families at the far end, then cuddle her into my side as she notices them too with a loud gasp.

“She said yes!” I call out with glee.

The loudest cheers begin and everyone rushes towards us for congratulatory hugs, kisses, handshakes and squeals, and when I look over at (Y/N) she’s shaking with shock at everything that’s just happened. I did worry this would all be too much for her and the little muffin, and as I watch her stroke Jake’s cheek and thanks him for coming with his parents, I know we need to settle down and start eating so she can take everything in.

“Right, let’s all take our seats,” I project above the excited chatter just as the platters of food to pick from are served.

I quickly grab (Y/N) and take her left hand in mine to see that ring and make sure I didn’t imagine the whole thing, then she lifts it from my grasp and strokes my cheek softly, causing me to lean into her loving touch.

“You’ve made me the happiest woman on earth,” she whispers, “and I can’t wait to see you in the role you were always meant to play; a dad. I love you so much, and I want to thank you for letting that rowdy lot in on such a special day.”

We take a quick glance over at our families talking amongst themselves; my brother and his wife standing with Peter and Carrie while Jake plays with Lily and the other Jake of the family, and our parents fussing over the food as they fill their plates.

“I’d do anything for you,” I reply as I turn to face her again, “and to be honest, I have been planning this day since we met, so I had plenty of time to prepare.” I add with a wink, “Seeing you becoming a mum is the most incredible thing to watch, and I get to witness it everyday as that little bump becomes bigger which is completely mind blowing. Just when I think I couldn’t love you any more, you do something that makes my heart swell with adoration.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words,” she sighs with a smile.

“Are you two going to eat something?” (Y/N)’s mum calls over with concern.

We grin and nod over at her, then my eyes travel from (Y/N)’s face down to her stomach where my hand now rests.

“We’re coming,” I reply, “all three of us,” I whisper as my gaze lifts to (Y/N)’s glowing face.

[emma-nation]

Bloodline - KamilahxMC Fanfiction (Chapter 2)

Summary: A Feral attack, a mysterious serum and a big mistake… what consequences will it bring to Kamilah’s life and her relationship with Amy?

Rating: T 

Notes: Since I got an impressive feedback on this fic, I decided to make it a little bit longer. I hope you enjoy it :)

KamilahxMC Tag List: @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @annabellewerecorgi, @voltos9, @scorpistraub, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @spacecarrousel, @justejuste727, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices, @sleeping-with-her06, @supersphynxsworld, @gavryllo, @galaxyside-0, @msuhailey, @zoe6111, @ptxgirwaffles, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh, @ilovetaylor13m, @honorablebicycle, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @begging-for-kamilah, @kennaxval, @fal-carrington

The Conversation - Present Days, 10 PM

“It’s impossible. In every possible manner.”

The words Kamilah told Adrian continued to occupy her thoughts for the rest of the day. She didn’t say much or expressed any reaction at his office, instead she went to Ahmanet Financial, where she had a busy day of work.

When she was finally alone again, she grabbed all the tests results, that were safely locked inside a drawer, and read each one them carefully one more time.

Positive for pregnancy. At 2064 years of life she was expecting a child. A child conceived in the most impossible circumstances. The result of Adrian’s lack of attention and caution.

“Ms. Sayeed,” Erin showed up at her office by the end of her shift, “do you need anything?”

“No, Erin. Thank you, you can just go home now.”

On her cell phone, dozen of missed calls from Adrian. Kamilah didn’t want to speak to him yet. Not before settling down her thoughts. He insisted by sending her a text, where he told he would like to talk to her and conduct more exams.

In any stressful situation, she’d open a bottle of wine, or another alcoholic drink and go to her rooftop to relax. However, even convinced she couldn’t actually be carrying a child, drinking just didn’t feel right.

At her rooftop, Kamilah opened the small fridge, grabbing one of the multiple blood bags she had stocked. Being so insatiable as she was, it wasn’t safe to feed directly from mortals.

She had just started drinking, when someone came out from her personal elevator. Amy.

“Hey, I dropped by for a visit,” she told. “I heard you’re not doing well and that you’ve been at Adrian’s lab for tests.”

“Gossip,” Kamilah rolled her eyes. Of course Adrian employees had to spread the word around. She wondered what else they knew. If they knew everything.

“Agreed, but…” Amy sat down by her side, placing a hand on top of hers. “You don’t look well. Is there anything going on, Kamilah?”

She sighed. How would Amy react to that conversation? After all, she was the second parent to this baby. She definitely wasn’t ready. Amy was just a girl who could barely take care of herself. Who was she supposed to look after a child?

“There is. And it’s crazy, absurd and completely impossible.”

“I’m listening. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I have to,” Kamilah firmly said, looking into her eyes. “Amy, I’m pregnant.”

There was an uncomfortable and awkward moment of silence until Amy let out a small laugh.

“You’re kidding… right? I mean, this is a prank Lily convinced you to play on me.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Oh.”

“It’s resulted from Adrian’s mistake,” Kamilah explained. “The anti-Feral serum combined with his research project caused a mutation in my body.”

“Who’s the father?” Amy asked, a little bit scared. “Is it Adrian’s? Oh my god, he didn’t use any of Gaius blood in this research, did he?”

The last question made Kamilah stomach twist again. Those words made her feel more sick than she had been for the last two days.

“No, Adrian combined my blood with yours in his research project. It means half of this child’s DNA is yours.”

Amy looked at her in disbelief again.

“Kamilah, be honest with me. How much alcohol have you had recently?”

“Amy,” Kamilah scowled, “considering my current situation, I suppose alcohol isn’t something that should go down my throat.”

She handed Amy the tests results. The girl’s eyes went wide in surprise.

“Oh my god,” Amy silenced for a moment, before burying her face in her hands, “oh my god… oh my god…”

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Kamilah cautiously placed her hand on Amy’s back. “I feel the same. I never wanted to be a mother. Not as a mortal and even more as vampire. I can’t possibly raise a child. I have no time to raise a child.”

Tears started falling down from Amy’s eyes. This time Kamilah couldn’t tell how she was feeling. If she was excited, miserable or only disturbed by the news.

“Jesus,“ she shook her head in denial. "I’m going to be a dad. How do I even explain this to my family?”

“Don’t say that again. It sounds creepy.”

Between sobs, Amy let out a small laugh. Kamilah couldn’t help smiling too.

“This is so crazy and ridiculous… how’s that even possible?”

“I’ve been questioning the same,” Kamilah relaxed on her seat. “Listen, Amy. I thought you deserved to know the truth, but in case you don’t wish to have any involvement in the situation, I understand.”

Amy sighed long and deeply before giving her an answer.

“Kamilah, I never expected to be a mother so soon in my life, but since it has happened, I’m glad it got to be with you.”

“With me?!” Kamilah asked.

“Yes,” Amy leaned her head on the female vampire’s shoulder. “Someone so amazing and special. Someone… someone I love.”

“I love you too, even if I don’t say that often.”

“I know.”

Amy softly pressed a kiss on her lips. When she finished her hand was laying on Kamilah’s stomach.

“I don’t even know yet if there’s actually a child in there,” Kamilah told. “Adrian needs more testing.”

“Remember when we promised we’d be facing anything together?” Amy embraced her tightly. “We’ll do this. No matter how it ends.”

———-

The Confirmation - Present Days, 7 PM

Kamilah took the day off and spent it in Amy’s company at her penthouse. After agreeing she should meet Adrian again, they didn’t comment on the pregnancy subject again. They avoided anything regarding it. The entire day, they watched movies, cuddled and Kamilah even agreed to play one of Amy’s favorite games. Anything to keep her mind distracted.

For her own relief, she didn’t feel any sickness, though her hunger was still out of control. Maybe there was a chance the tests were wrong and her body was going back to normal.

At night, they both met Adrian in his laboratory, where he waited with an advanced technology equipment to conduct a screening test on Kamilah. She laid on her back, while he scanned her abdomen. Amy watched everything apprehensively.

Adrian’s employees helped with the procedure, often glancing at each other and pointing to the screen. Noticing how uncomfortable Kamilah felt, Amy squeezed her hand.

A strange sound started echoing all over the room from the machines. It was quick and strong, but somehow peaceful and relieving. Kamilah could listen to that for hours. It was literally the only thing that made her feel make relaxed after the discovery.

“What is that?” She asked, curious.

“Your baby’s heartbeats,” Adrian explained.

"Such a beautiful sound,” Amy said, starting to get a little bit emotional.

Kamilah started thinking of her parents and Lysimachus. Maybe life was giving her a second chance of having a family and to redeem herself from all the suffering she caused in the past. Yet, it didn’t make her feel any better. There was her Ahmanet Financial, that required a lot of her time. She spent more time in her office than at her penthouse, often having to travel around the world.

And there was Amy. They hadn’t been together for so long. Forcing her to such a responsibility, so early in her life, didn’t seem fair.

———-

The Discussion - Present Days, 8:30 PM

After the exam was over, Adrian called them both to his office.

“Indeed,” Adrian told. “There’s a fetus growing inside your womb and… he shows a normal development for this stage. All human features, such as forming organs, skin and bones.”

“He?” Amy asked in surprise.

“It has been detected the presence of an Y chromosome. It’s a male fetus.”

Kamilah couldn’t say a single word. She was having a son. A boy. Her brother quickly returned to her thoughts. Lysimachus would have loved to be an uncle.

“Kamilah?” Adrian’s expression was dark and serious. “I tried to reproduce this very same mutation in the laboratory, but I obtained no reaction. There must be a third factor involved, that made the mutation result in a pregnancy.”

“I honestly have no idea of what you’re talking about,” Kamilah said. “I’ve been trying to understand it myself.”

“Was Amy the only person you had sexual intercourse with?”

“Of course.”

Kamilah wasn’t sure if her raging hormones were speaking louder, but the manner Adrian started to ask questions annoyed her a little bit.

“And how did that happened?” He proceeded with the interrogation. “Was there anything different about it?”

“It’s getting a little too personal, don’t you think?” Kamilah complained. After being exposed to his employees to gossip, the last thing she needed was to expose her intimacy.

“That’s okay,” Amy interrupted. “After you switched the samples, we… we did it. A lot of times actually. The night Kamilah was injected that sample, it was pretty wild. And the next few days too. We were really… in the mood, if you know what I mean.”

“Amy, this is enough.”

“I see,” Adrian stopped asking questions and grabbed a few papers in his desk. He also handed her a pen. “I need you to sign this, Kamilah. Before we perform the procedure.”

“What is that?” Amy wanted to know.

Kamilah read it fast, but cautiously. It was some sort of responsibility term, where she agreed to go under a procedure to remove the fetus and allow Adrian’s company to study him later.

“It’s the safest for all of us,” he told Amy. “This child was generated from blood of the Tree Of Eternal Life. Nothing good can come from that tree. He’d be like a Third Son.”

“Are you suggesting we should kill him?”

“Amy, a Vampire pregnancy never happened in history. We don’t even know if he’s going to develop properly. I mean, Vampires don’t age. Is he going to be a baby forever or he’ll stop aging in adulthood, when his body is fully mature?”

“I don’t care,” Amy raised her voice. “If he has been developing until now, why won’t he, after he’s born?”

“This will be a threat for all the humanity, Amy,” Adrian raised his voice even louder. “He’ll be just like Rheya, Gaius or Xenocrates.”

“Didn’t you just said there was a third factor involved in the conception? It was the love between Kamilah and I. He was conceived through love!”

“You’re being delusional. Neither Gaius or Xenocrates ever knew what love was! They had a twisted vision of it.”

“And apparently neither do you, Adrian! K-Kamilah, you… you can’t possibly be considering signing it. I won’t sign it! I won’t let you do this!”

The argument started to get even more loud and heated. Amy’s cry and Adrian shouts started to enter deeply into Kamilah’s ultrasensitive ears. Her annoyance became anger and she exploded.

“Stop! Stop before I lose my mind,” She yelled at Adrian. “Can’t you see it, Adrian? Everytime you develop a hyperfixation, people get hurt. And there’s never turning back.”

“Kamilah, you are out of your mind,” Adrian argued. “The Kamilah I know would never risk causing harm to the humanity because of a stupid mistake.”

“A stupid mistake? Tell me, Adrian. Are you asking me to take my son’s life? Deny him the chance of living, like somebody did to Charles?”

Her words had found a mark. She touched in the most sensible subject in Adrian’s life. He stared at her in silence, his expression getting even darker.

“Charles wasn’t a monster. He didn’t deserve to die.”

Kamilah’s eyes flared red and she snapped out of her control, advancing in Adrian’s direction. She pinned him against the wall, ready to sink her hand inside his chest.

“Kamilah, please,” Amy held her arm, crying non-stop. “D-Don’t do this. I’m begging you. You’ll never forgive yourself…”

She was right. Kamilah took a deep breath and recomposed herself, letting Adrian go.

“Let’s go home, Amy,” she grabbed her purse and headed to the door. “This is a decision we’ll make together.”

She was already at the corridor, but she could hear Adrian’s final words.

“He’s already controlling you.”

———-

The Decision - Present Days, 11 PM

On their way home, neither Kamilah or Amy said anything to each other. They were both on the extreme of their nerves. After a relaxing bath, Kamilah ordered them a meal, but they barely touched the food.

She laid in bed, willing to get some sleep, but it seemed impossible. Both sides of the argument weighted inside her mind. Amy could be right, without their love, this child would never exist. But Adrian could also have a point. Nothing good ever came from the Tree Of Eternal Life.

Amy joined her in bed, resting her head on Kamilah’s stomach. She looked down and smiled, ruffling the girl’s soft blonde hair.

“You already love him, don’t you?”

“I do. It’s hard to explain, but I already feel a connection with him.”

“Natural. He’s a Vampire, you’re a Bloodkeeper. Somehow you can make this connection.”

“Kamilah…” the girl looked at her with eyes filled with tears, “I know it’s your decision to make, but it doesn’t have to be that way. We’re going to raise him, educate him… he won’t be a monster.”

“It’s our decision to make, Amy,” Kamilah corrected her. “For a second, I understood Adrian’s point of view. But then I remembered this baby is yours too. If he has even half of your kindness, even half of your heart, I know we’ll be safe.”

“Does it mean…”

Amy’s face lighted up in a huge smile. Kamilah pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“We’re having a baby boy, Amy.”

[pixelatedrose]

A Rose For A Valentine

Part 1/Part 2/???

Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety, Logicality, background Demus, background Remile

Cast:

Lochesis Lodgick (logic). Lo, Lochy, Sisi for nicknames

Pandora Morralitie (morality) Panda, Pan, Dora, Pancake for nicknames

Rose Kreativve (creativity) Ro, Princess for nicknames

Valentine Anxxiatie (anxiety) Val, Valen for nicknames

Dahlia Desceat (deceit) Dahl, Di, Dahli for nicknames

Ruby Kreativve (Remus/intrusive thoughts) Ru, Ruru for nicknames

Riley Sleapp (Sleep) Riy, Lili for nicknames

Emily Picani (Emile) Em, Emmy for nicknames

Trigger warnings: uncensored swearing, high anxiety, fighting verbally, being left alone, breakdowns

Chapter 2

Valentine Anxxiatie threw herself onto her bed. She had just gone to public school for the first time since second grade and she'd had the best worst day of her entire year.

  It was her best friend, Pandora Morralitie, and her two moms that had finally convinced her to go back.

  "Come on, Val! It'll be fun! And at the very least you'll have me!" Pandora had said.

  "Yeah right…" Valentine muttered through the thick blankets. She rolled over and closed her eyes, thinking over everything that'd happened that day. She opened them again and stared at the ceiling, letting panic and anxiety wash over her as she started to sob.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. I thought this was going to be fucking good…

~~•~~

  Valentine had gotten to school and received her schedule alone, unable to find Pandora and the school's Wi-Fi blocking any connection she might have had.

  She looked the paper over and over and over, her high strung anxiety working overtime in her mind.

  Valentine had art first period, followed by math, English, computer animation, orchestra, and chemistry.

  The day was pretty slow and they seemed to do no work at all. All they did was play stupid get-to-know-you games and read stupid rules. Valentine shared lunch and her chemistry class with Pandora, so that was a plus.

  Things started going off for Valentine in her English class when a popular redheaded girl sat down next to her and tried talking to her.

  "Hey!" Rose, the popular one, hissed. "My name's Rose! What's yours? Are you new around here, I've never seen you before."

  Valentine pulled her hood up over her head. "...i don't like talking…" She breathed to herself.

  Sure, Valentine had teased the girl by ignoring her deliberately, but she really didn't have any interest in talking to the plastic girl.

  However her desire to see the bitch suffer outweighed and was used as a mask to cover Valentine's anxiety and she was able to mock and gather a small video of blackmail on the redheaded Rose.

  But everything was all downhill from there.

  Valentine waited against the hallway wall for her one and only friend, Pandora.

  "Vaalll~!" A familiar and happy voice chirred delightfully, pretty blue eyes sparkling through her big round frames. Pandora bumped playfully into Valentine's shoulder. "Heya girl! Sorry I wasn't there this morning, I couldn't find you and my girlfriend wanted to wait for our other friend."

  Valentine drew a smile to her face. "Nah, it's fine, Pan." She reassured the honey haired girl.

  "You found your classes Okay? Did you meet anyone nice? See any cute girls? Anything you need explained to You?" Pandora asked fervently, her mom mode activating.

  Valentine chuckled softly. "I'm doing just fine, Pan. The only real problem I had was with this one chick in my English class. Bitch's a classic plastic doll. Got a kick out of messing with her though."

  Pandora frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry Val…" something caught Pandora's eye and she smiled widely. "Well you can tell me all about it right after you meet everyone else!!"

  Valentine faked a smile and walked ahead with her friend. She really didn't want there to be an everyone else. It was just fine with her and Pandora. That was all she needed.

  "Hey hey hey y'all I'm here~!" Pandora called, bouncing up to two other girls. "And this is my friend!"

  Valentine looked up and instantly froze. "...oh hell no…" She cursed under her breath.

  "Valentine!" Pandora finished with a flourish.

  Right in front of Valentine's eyes was the preppy plastic from her english class. Her stupid red hair bouncing as she looked to the emo girl.

  Their eyes narrowed at each other and like a battle about to begin they pointed at each other and yelled.

  "YOU!!" Their voices twined in one another as they mirrored each other's offended disbelief.

  "You're the chick from English!!" Rose yelled.

  "And you're the princess from my nightmares…." Valentine groaned.

  Pandora looked from Valentine to Rose through her pale blue and white frames. Realization dawned on her face and she clapped her hands and jumped with delight. "Oohhh~!! You two know each other!! This is great oh my god we're all gonna be best friends forever!!" Pandora laughed and hugged the contrasting friends.

  Valentine seethed poison from her eyes staring at the preppy redhead.

  Rose glared furiously through the energetic hug at the dark haired emo.

  "We don't know each other!" Valentine yelled, pushing out of the hug. She was so excited to maybe make some actual friends. Now, seeing that fake preppy princess of a girl, Valentine was on the brink of a breakdown.

  Rose turned to the tall girl she'd been with, pointing again at Valentine. "That's that emo chick I was talking about!!" She turned back to Pandora. "You're friends with her?!" Disbelief and agitation dripping from her voice like honey from a spoon. Her words were thick and poisonous in Valentine's ears. "Why are you friends with her?!"

  "Weirdo" "You have two moms" "idiot" "loser" "whisper girl" All the names came back to Valentine. The reason she didn't go back to school at the start of 3nd grade. The only thing stronger than her anxiety was her anger and spite, and Valentine was riding on fury.

  "It's none of your business who Pandora is friends with!" Valentine shouted. "And who's to say that maybe she'd rather be friends with someone who's deeper than a puddle on the sidewalk!"

  "Are you calling me shallow?!"

  "If by shallow you mean that I wouldn't get my feet wet if I stepped in you with no shoes on then yes."

  "Bitch!! Who the hell are you to tell me who I am?!"

  "I don't have to; it's written all over your everything!"

  "At least I try and be friendly instead of hiding in the back of the classroom and sulking like someone just killed my dog!!"

  "Well at least I know my friends want to be my friends!!!"

  Rose stopped for a moment.

  "What? Aren't you clever enough to-" Pandora put a hand on Valentine's shoulder. When she looked, Valentine saw her friend shake her head at her, a look of what could be horror on her face.

  "Valentine, stop…" she said quietly.

  Rose turned and started to walk away. The tall girl stared at Valentine with such a look of cold disapproval it could have broken her had she been made of glass. The girl turned after her red haired friend, Pandora jogging after them.

  And Valentine was alone, the once busy and loud lunch room had grown quiet to witness the fight, seeing Rose leave, the commotion picked back up. But it was cold now.

  "Did you see That? That emo chick?" "Rose is so sweet, what a bitch." "How could she do something like That?" "What a bitch." "Idiot loser." "Jerk." "Brat." "Nobody." "Scarecrow girl with the patchy hoodie." "Scarecrow." "Scarecrow." "Scarecrow."

  How could a nickname spread so fast?

  Valentine pulled her hood up and stormed away. She pushed through the doors and planted herself onto a bench.

  Her eyes stung with the threat of tears and her hands shook. All she could think about was how badly she'd messed up.

  What had Valentine been thinking?! I insulted and mocked and fought with one of Pandora's friends...and by the looks of things she's gonna take Rose's side over mine… Valentine fought back tears, looking up to the sky and blinking furiously. If she cried here, her eyeshadow would run and everyone would know.

  I thought this was supposed to be good for me; I thought this was supposed to fun. Thought high school was gonna give me friends not make me lose them…

  And in the quiet of the outside world, Valentine waited painfully for the bell to ring.

~~•~~

  Valentine's next period was slow and empty as she dreaded her next class with Pandora, who now no doubt hated her. The hours drug on, but the bell eventually did ding it's ring and Valentine reluctantly moved to her next class.

  Valentine opened the door to her chemistry class and felt her breath catch in her throat. Near the back of the classroom sat Pandora...and Rose.

  She pulled Pan away from me. Valentine felt anger simmer up to the surface and she felt ready to spit fire at the girl who had seemingly torn Valentine's world apart. But she let her anger go. There wasn't any point anymore. Whatever dumb thing they had been playing, Rose had won.

  Valentine resigned herself to emptiness again and started walking to the back of the class, opposite of Pandora and Rose.

  Pandora was the only real friend Valentine had ever had in her entire life. She'd been with her since before Valentine could recall. And if Pandora didn't want to be-

  "Val!!"

  Valentine stopped and looked over to the honey haired girl waving to her, a bright goofy smile plastered across her freckled face.

  Pandora bounced up to the emo girl and took her hand. "What'cha doin, silly? Come on and sit with us!"

  Valentine felt her heart lighten and rise, free of the heaviness that the void of emotions bring. "But don't you-"

  Pandora shushed her friend. "Whatever happened at lunch, don't worry about it." Pandora stopped tugging at Valentine's sleeve and faced her, kind, warm blue eyes comforting and easing her friend's now decreased anxiety. "We've been friends for years, Valentine. You think I'd end it because you had a fight with one of my other friends?" Pandora continued before Valentine could give a false answer. "Besides, I want to show Rose that you're nowhere near as bad as she thinks." Valentine was happy at this. Correcting the plastic's wrongness would- "And I want to show you that Rose isn't as shallow and plastic as you seem to think she is." Pandora jeered, letting Valentine know she wasn't going to be let off the hook that easily.

  "....fine." Valentine relented, a joke I'm her voice.

  As Pandora and Valentine walked up to the redhead, Rose seemed to sink lower in her seat, shrinking and sulking like how Valentine would have done herself.

  Rose glanced between Pandora and Valentine. "Waddya want…" she mumbled depressively.

  In fact, Rose's tone was so much of a contrast to how she'd been before it almost startled Valentine.

  Rose seemed to notice and sat up. "What?" She seethed. "Shocked to find out I had feelings?"

  This was a bad idea this was a bad idea this was a bad idea, it always was, God, Valentine, you're an idiot… Valentine shifted her weight and sunk back into her hoodie. That's what Valentine had made it to do; consume and hide her face and emotions behind fabric and string.

  "She knows you have emotions, Ro," Pandora said. "She just gets a little…Antisocial. And snippity. You know. She got-"

  "It's okay, Pan," Valentine put a hand on in her friend's shoulder. "I can speak for myself." She turned to face the redhead and opened her mouth to explain how her defences had shot up instantly, how her natural reaction is to sneer and jest and tease to hide how scared and nervous she actually is, how she was upset at what she'd said to the preppy girl at lunch. "See, Rose, I'm sorry for what happened, I just-"

  Ding!! Ding!!

  "Alright class, take your seats." The teacher said, getting up from his chair and picking up a stack of papers.

  No!! Valentine thought, panic setting into her chest. No, no, No! Why?! Couldn't the bell have rung just a little bit later?

  Class was slow and Pandora had sat between Rose and Valentine, preventing any real whisper conversations to happen between the two girls.

  Class ended and the bell dismissed school.

  Valentine tried to talk to the red headed girl. "Rose I-"

  "Save your breath. I know what you think of me."

  Rose's words stung more than Valentine thought they would.

  Valentine set her jaw and mind. "Listen, I just want to-"

  "I have a bus to catch. I'll see you later, Panda." And Rose left the classroom.

  Valentine stared after her. "..."

  "Listen, Valentine…Rose-"

  "Is a whiney mellow-dramatic bitch…" Valentine finished for Pandora in the most profound sounding voice, you'd think that God himself had sent the sentence down wrapped in revelation and divine truth; Rose is a whiney mellow-dramatic bitch.

  "Uh...No...Not what I was gonna say, but-"

  "No don't worry, Pan, I'm sure there's something good down there. You're friends with her after all, so I'm sure there's a bit of like glitter or some shit hidden in her bra or something."

  Pandora snorted and threw her head back and laughed hard and loud. "I can't believe you remember That!!"

  "I can't believe you did That!" Valentine laughed lightly.

  Pandora calmed herself down and the girls started walking. "Hey, it was only the one time though." She paused and thought for a moment. "...I'm gonna do it again and show Lochy." She said matter of factly.

~~•~~

  Valentine sobbed alone on her bed. Despite having laughed with Pandora at the end of it all, every little bit of what had taken place washed over her and she couldn't take it anymore.

  "You're friends with her?!" "Why are you friends with her?!" "Did you see That? That emo chick?" "Rose is so sweet, what a bitch." "How could she do something like That?" "What a bitch." "Idiot loser." "Jerk." "Brat." "Nobody." "Scarecrow girl with the patchy hoodie." "Scarecrow." "Scarecrow." "Scarecrow." "Valentine, stop…"

  It all hurt so much.

  And it felt like it was unfixable.

  Rose had walked away and didn't want anything to do with Valentine.

  But Pandora was Valentine's only friend, and the two of them seemed close.

  So if Valentine wasn't able to make up with Rose and become friends with her, or at least pretend to be her friend, then Valentine would lose Pandora who would undoubtedly take her other friend's side, and then Valentine was sure they'd start spreading rumors or calling names, and then inevitably Valentine would drop out of high school only a week after joining, then she'd be alone forever and end up dying probably curled up under a bridge or something.

  So obviously, not making up with Rose meant inevitable death.

  ….eventually.

  But in all realness, for Valentine, she felt like she'd just failed the world. Like she'd taken someone's trust and twisted it and contorted it so beyond recognition that it looked like a deceitful shadow of what it once could have been.

  So Valentine sobbed and panicked alone in her room until she fell asleep from the exhaustion.

Hey you guys!! I’m having a ton of fun writing this fic! I don’t know when part three will be out due to the fact that I’m becoming very busy very quickly, but hopefully I’ll have something maybe by Christmas, maybe sooner? I’m not sure right now. Anyway, hope you enjoyed part two of A Rose For A Valentine! And do tell me if you’d like to see this fic with the original male characters instead, I have the first chapter all ready if that’s what you’d rather. Thank you all so much, love you!!

[galadrieljones]

The Lily Farm - Chapter 44

AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.

Chapter 44: Lonesome Doves

“It's a fine world, though rich in hardships at times.”

-Larry McMurtry, Lonesome Dove

It was the next morning. Sadie and Charles were parked outside of Shady Bell, smoking cigarettes, caked in mud, trying to figure out what to do. Sadie had a lot of blood staining up the front of her blouse from when she’d had to shank a man who tried to fuck with Trelawny back on the river boat. Of course Josiah had escaped, but lord knows where to.

“We gotta go in,” she said. “We can’t sit out here forever.”

“What do we tell Abigail?” said Charles. His hair was knotted off his face, the sweat and water all dried. His hands were shaking as he smoked. It had been a long ass night.

“The truth,” she said. “Weren’t our fault, Charles. John was playing the hero. We’ll get him back.”

Charles sighed. “What about Bronte.”

They both glanced back to Sadie’s horse, where Angelo Bronte was bound, gagged, and unconscious. He was missing a shoe. His hair was all wet and he had a big old shiner on his cheek from where Charles had hit him with the butt of his weapon. “We let Dutch deal with Bronte,” said Sadie.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Dutch has been way less…squirrelly lately. Don't you think?"

"Maybe."

"He seems subdued," said Sadie. "Like maybe something’s wrong. Like maybe he’s depressed.”

“I was talking to John the other day,” said Charles, smoking. “He said he thinks Dutch is jealous of Arthur.”

“Over what?” said Sadie, half-laughing. “Over Mary Beth?”

Charles shrugged.

“That’s rich,” she said, tossing the cigarette, lighting another. “That why he cut Molly loose?”

“I don’t think so,” said Charles. “Or, I don’t think it’s that simple. I think it’s something to do with Annabelle.”

“Who’s Annabelle?” said Sadie.

They heard a rustling then, somebody coming through the early morning trees. They both looked up. It was just Karen, but she looked surprised. “What the goddam hell?” she said, holding her shotgun, looking left and right. “When did y’all get back?”

“Just now,” said Charles. “Is Dutch here?”

“Of course. Where else would he be. He’s still asleep in his room. Swear to god he's becoming a goddam teenager. All this brooding and sleeping. Is that—Where’s John?” she said. “What the fuck?”

“What do you mean he’s in jail?” said Abigail. She was standing beside the old dried up fountain in the yard. Jack was still sleeping, upstairs. Half the camp was still rustling awake. It was just her and Hosea, plus Pearson and Miss Grimshaw in a hushed conversation on the porch. They had a couple wild looks about them. They had been waiting up all night, getting ready. It was the word around camp that they’d be leaving Shady Belle any day.

“I mean, he is in jail,” said Sadie. She removed her hat. “Or, he’s on his way. Sisika, I reckon. He got nabbed while was was on the river boat. He was being a hero, Abigail. I guess.”

“Goddammit,” said Abigail. “What a goddam fool. He ain’t no hero. He’s a father,” said Abigail. She was unhinging, slowly. She started to cry. “Where’s Arthur, and Mary Beth? Are they—Oh my god.”

“They must have escaped,” said Charles. “We couldn’t find them, or the Rangers.”

“You couldn’t find them?” said Hosea.

“No, sir. We looked everywhere. The boat was not that big.”

“What are we supposed to do with Bronte?” said Hosea. He glanced to him, fast asleep on the ground.

“I thought we’d let Dutch deal with Bronte,” said Sadie, chewing a reed. She shrugged. “If those Pinkertons was his doing, Dutch’ll get it out of him. Ain’t they got some sort of history?”

“This is not good,” said Hosea, loosening his collar. “What the hell happened on that boat?”

“We boarded,” said Sadie. “Weren’t no big deal at first. We just had a mind to keep our heads down and warn Arthur, detain Bronte if possible, and leave. But we couldn’t find Arthur. Instead, what we found was Pinkertons.”

“Pinkertons?” said Hosea. “On the river boat?”

“Yes, sir,” said Charles. “One of them recognized John. Turned bloody, fast. John took a dive to give us the edge. We grabbed Bronte on a lark after we found him berating his men on the deck. Then we got the hell out of there.”

“Goddammit,” said Abigail, sobbing. “God fuckin dammit. What am I gonna tell Jack?”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Sadie. “Try not to worry. Okay?”

“We’re gonna get him back, Abigail,” said Charles.

Abigail looked away, tears staining her cheeks. She felt a stupid woman.

“I need to go wake Dutch,” said Hosea, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “He’s asleep like a goddam mule. We need to make way elsewhere, as soon as possible. Lemoyne is getting way too hot. Too fast. This is becoming a nightmare. Everybody needs to prepare for what’s next.”

“Where will we go?” said Abigail. “Where the hell are we gonna go, Hosea? Without Arthur, and John? What are we gonna do?”

Hosea hung his head, a goddam fool.

Meanwhile, Arthur and LaBoeuf had made their way into Valentine, slowly. It was late morning and they had crept in before first light through the auction yard. They were sitting in the side-streets saloon now, eating oatmeal and drinking coffee at the bar. Arthur had tipped the bartender $5 and asked him what the deal was, whether he knew what was going on with the Pinkertons in town.

“I don’t know exactly for sure,” said the bartender, shining up a wooden bowl. He was about fifty-two with one brown tooth. “They ain’t been in here, specifically. But I got boys at the gun shop, and my woman works at the doctor’s office. They all said the Pinkertons was in town looking for men wanted by the law.”

“Did they mention which men?” said Arthur.

“No, sir.”

Arthur sighed.

“Have you seen a gentleman come through,” said LaBoeuf. He had asked for whiskey in his coffee. “About your age. He would have been with a young woman. Real pretty. Curly brown hair and freckles. They would have been in this very saloon, perhaps looking for us.”

“Not that I know of,” said the bartender. “I work here most nights and mornings. Ain’t been nobody like that in here. No pretty girls to speak of. As you can see, we got a dearth of their kind in Valentine.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur.

“Don’t mention it.”

Arthur glanced to LaBoeuf. They finished their oatmeal. “That’s good,” said Arthur, quietly. “That they ain’t been here yet. Where do you think they got to, after the river boat?”

“I don’t know,” said LaBoeuf. “Maybe Blackwater. Call and I noticed we was headed out that way sometime before the shooting broke out. It wasn’t really an option, if you were in tow, but just the two of them? Mary Beth ain’t no risk with the law, visually speaking. Call neither. I reckon Blackwater.”

“That’s far as hell,” said Arthur. “Blackwater?”

“I reckon they’ll take the train,” said LaBoeuf. “If they are coming from way out there.”

“Maybe we should wait at the train station.”

“No, sir,” said LaBoeuf. “Them Pinkertons we saw—there were three of them. They are camped too close to the station for that.”          

“Do you got a contingency?” said Arthur. He finished his coffee in a long gulp and glanced back to the door. “I mean, we can’t stick around here all day. The bartender says them Pinkertons ain’t been through this establishment yet. Means they could still be coming.”

“We got five contingencies,” said LaBoeuf.

“Five?”

“A Texas Ranger is always prepared, Mr. Morgan,” said LaBoeuf. He shifted his weight in his chair, tapped the surface of the bar, and asked for another shot of whiskey. “I reckon we ought to adios from this place, leave a message with the bartender here, and move onto the next. It just ain’t safe.”

“Where’s the next meeting place? Or, contingency, or what have you?”

“The Winterson’s Bed and Breakfast in Emerald Ranch.”

Arthur looked down at his empty bowl. The oatmeal had been disgusting. “Okay. Let’s get a move on then. No use waiting around in this rat trap.”

LaBoeuf nodded. He took his last shot of whiskey, chased it with a gulp of coffee, and then grunted as he pushed off the bar.

“You okay?” said Arthur.

“I’m fine,” said LaBoeuf. “Healing is a bitch, Mr. Morgan.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Arthur. He scribbled a note onto a piece of paper provided by the bartender. He tipped the man another $5 to keep it safe, and to provide that note to Call and Mary Beth upon their arrival. It read simply, Contingency Protocol. He then tipped him $10 more to keep quiet should the Pinkertons come sniffing.

“You one of them van der Lindes?” said the bartender, more curious than anything. He was leaning over the bar with his brown tooth bared, looking a little sly.

“Sir, we are Texas Rangers,” said LaBoeuf, brandishing his badge. “We simply desire secrecy as to our whereabouts, as we are hot on the trail of an outlaw brigade coming through from Arkansas, and we need quiet in our wake.”

“You’ll get no questions from me,” said the bartender, smiling. “I never did like Pinkertons. Hypocrites, all of them. And dirty noses, they got.”

“I like you, sir,” said LaBoeuf.

The bartender thought this was a funny, gave them a half-bottle of bourbon to take with, on the house. Once they got out the door, Arthur ran into an old friend named Mickey, a guy he had met a couple times before on his way through this place. Mickey was happy to see him, and Arthur gave him a little cash, and Mickey asked if there was anything he could do—anything to help Arthur, anything at all.

“You’re a good man, sir,” he said. “A good man. The best man. And my friend. You look like you’re in trouble, friend. You and your partner here. Let me help. How can I help? What can I do for you, good sir?”

Arthur had mixed feelings. Ultimately he said, “Sir, I don’t want to get you into no trouble with the law. But you head over that’a’way, and you cause a commotion in town, any sort really, and you catch the attention of the people, I would be mighty grateful. Don’t break no laws. Don’t get yourself into no trouble, you hear? Just get to hollering about Jesus or anything like that—anything at all. As long as it’s legal. And I would be grateful. I would be grateful indeed.”

Mickey said yes. Yes, of course he would, and he hobbled off to do just that. Started yelling about Jesus, and aliens coming down to get him, then making fun of a man who had fallen asleep drunk with his hair hanging in the water trough by the hotel. “Look at this imbecile!” they could hear him shouting. “Good golly. What a sight!” There was laughter. Arthur and LaBoeuf managed to sneak out through the auction yard again, without any farm hands or Pinkertons getting none the wiser. They mounted up, rode away to the east, seen by none but the sheep and a one-eyed dog Arthur knew by the name of Joe. As they rode to Emerald Ranch they did not look back. It wasn’t far. They arrived by noon.

“Mr. Call?” said Mary Beth. They had swung south of Valentine, stopped at Citadel Rock. They were going to climb the vantage point, scope out the town. He had asked her to stay down with the horses, but she would not do any such thing. So he helped her up where she needed, let her climb the rest of the way on her own. She was agile and strong.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as they got to the roost. He fashioned a small pair of binoculars from his side. He had kept them holstered near his volcanic.

“You got a son, right?” she said.

He looked through the binoculars. The day was cool. It was about ten a-m when they arrived. “That, I do.”

“What’s his name?” she said.

Unable to ignore her line of questioning, he set down the binoculars and looked at her. “Newt,” he said.

“Newt,” she said. “That’s an interesting name.”

“I thought so, too.”

He went back to his binoculars. At first, he couldn’t see much. Just some one-armed man causing a comical ruckus in the street.

“Where is he now?” said Mary Beth. She was leaning against a little outcropping. She had found a busted up pearl necklace while on the climb. It had been hanging out the side of the rock formation as if somebody had hidden it there.

“He’s in Wyoming.”

“Wyoming, huh?”

“He went up on a cattle drive,” said Call, “met a woman, got married, and he never came back.”

“Where are you from, Mr. Call. Where was Newt born.”

Call took a deep breath, looked back to her. She looked tired and windswept, her curls all coming undone. He was soft for her. She was a good girl. “I was born in Illinois, Mrs. Morgan. Though I consider myself to be from Amarillo, Texas as I lived there for most of my life. Newt was born in a little Texas town called Lonesome Dove.”

“Lonesome Dove?” said Mary Beth. “My. That sounds romantic. What pretty words.”

Call smiled. “Weren’t nothing so romantic, Mrs. Morgan. It ain’t really that sort of town. It’s more like Valentine. Cows and…well, prostitutes mostly.” He looked away, embarrassed for some reason.

“You know, I told Arthur I was pregnant here, right here in Valentine.” She was studying those pearls in her palm. "In the church. We’ve spent a lot of time in this little pit of a town.”

“Is that good or bad?”

She shrugged. “It’s just like any other town, I guess. Like you said.”

Call went back to the binoculars. He saw some suspicious looking wagons outside the town, near the train station. He was trying to makes heads or tails of them.

“You know,” said Mary Beth. “Speaking of Lonesome Doves. I just—I always sort of thought I’d be one, you know? Sad, all by myself, mourning so much of my life. But then I met Arthur.”

“He’s a good man,” said Call, watching Valentine. “He’ll keep you safe.”

“I know that,” she said.

“And you'll keep him safe.”

“From what?”

“Himself mostly,” said Call. “And Lemoyne Raiders.” He gave her a sly grin.

She blushed. “You heard about that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I hear you’re quite the shot.”

“I got lucky,” she said. “Arthur showed me how to use a shot gun a long time ago. So far, I have killed one man, one wolf, and dented one turtle.”

He glanced at her. “You dented a turtle?”

“It got away." She took a deep breath and pocketed the pearls. “I’m sorry I am annoying you with all these questions,” she said. “I am just nervous. Do you see Arthur, or LaBoeuf. Anybody?”

“No, I don’t,” said Call, growing serious. “I see who appears to be a Union Army veteran distracting the townspeople. I see a couple Pinkerton Detectives, leaving the general store.”

“Pinkertons?” said Mary Beth. She roused and beckoned for the binoculars. “What the hell are they doing here?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Call. He sat back on his heels and shook his head out a little as she looked through the binoculars. He was growing weary. He was not as young as he had used to be. “They don’t seem onto anything, and I didn't see Arthur or LaBoeuf. Could be they’ve moved on.”

“Moved on where?” She handed back the binoculars.

“To the first of five contingency locations.”

“What?”

“Just in case meeting places do not work out, or are blocked or corrupted for some reason, we always have contingencies, Mrs. Morgan. Particularly in high stakes projects like this.”

“Well, where is the contingency?”

“The first is at the Winterson’s Bed and Breakfast in Emerald Ranch.”

“The Wintersons?” she said. She looked a little confused. “Oh. Well, should we just go there?”

“I expect. Perhaps. But I’d like to head into town and just make sure. See for myself. If they’ve been through here, LaBoeuf will leave a mark, a trail only I can follow.”

“Okay,” said Mary Beth. “Well, what should I do?”

“You’ll come, too,” he said. “We’ll enter the town around the side over there, through the auction yard, and go straight to the saloon on the side streets. Whoever this…clown is, he seems to be keeping the company of the townspeople, and the law. For the time being at least.”

“Okay,” she said, bravely. She got to her feet. “I’m ready.”

They rode down into the town, went to the saloon. The moment they walked in, the bartender straightened up off the bar and started acting fishy, like he knew them. He beckoned them both to the counter, and then he leaned in, real secretly, asked them whether they knew a couple cowboys who might have come through earlier. “You know the type?”

“Yes, sir,” said Mary Beth. She had grown eager. “Did they tell you where they was headed?”

“No’m,” said the bartender. He smiled at her with that brown tooth. “Only left me this.”

He gave her the note. Together, she read it with Call, and it was only as they had expected. “We got to go,” she said. “Now, okay? I am growing very impatient, Mr. Call.”

“I am as well,” he said. He tipped his hat to the bartender and gave him $2 for his trouble. They exited the door and snuck past the crowds and the one-armed man.

“I think I know him,” said Mary Beth as she mounted her filly. “Not personally, but I have seen him around.”

“I am beginning to think that his little song and dance is not coincidence,” said Call.

Mary Beth smiled as she pulled on her reins. She hoped it were true.

They rode to Emerald Ranch by skipping the road. They cut over a great many hills and across a couple valleys and a dried up old gulch. Mary Beth glanced down at her hands where she held the reins. The skin on her knuckles was dry as she admired the amethyst ring on her finger. She thought about the pearls she had found over at Citadel Rock. Who had they belonged to? She thought about Lonesome Dove, and what a name for a place, and how she thought it couldn’t be nothing so beautiful even if it were fiction. What a fine name for a place.

They broke through the trees. He glanced back at her. He seemed okay, she thought. She knew she had a habit of underestimating men. All the men she knew had lost so much, particularly in the way of women. She worried for them in ways she knew to be infantilizing and unrealistic. The men she knew, they were strong. They could handle a lot. They could handle anything.

“What was her name?” she said after a little while. “Newt’s mama.”

They crested the tree line, saw the house up ahead. “Maggie,” said Call. “Her name was Maggie.”

“Maggie,” she said, dreamily. She closed her eyes to think of it. The working girl from Lonesome Dove, named Maggie, had the baby of a steadfast Ranger as Woodrow Call. It was a pretty story, and so sad. She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Call.”

“Thank you," said Call then, but he was distracted. He held his hand up. She stopped her filly on a dime. "Hold up."

“What’s wrong?”

When they finally got to the yard, it was after the high noon sun, and the day was still cool. They noticed multiple horses, too many of which they did not recognize. Mary Beth regarded the house. It looked closed up, empty. It was strange, no smoke in the chimney. She thought Lizette was always cooking something. There were a couple boards over one of the front windows, too. Now, she was listening for the hounds.

“Mrs. Morgan?” said Call.

“Where’s the hounds?” she said.

“What hounds?”

“There’s hounds,” she said. Her horse was shuffling, like she was picking up on Mary Beth’s uncertainty. “The Wintersons keep hounds to guard the acreage. Five, maybe six. They’s always roaming in the daytime. You can always hear them.”

“I count four horses in total,” said Call. “Two by the barn, two up by the house.”

“I don’t recognize a one of them,” said Mary Beth. “But Arthur knows a lot of people around here. He can get horses. And those others could belong to the Wintersons, I suppose?”

“You ever seen them before?”

“No, sir,” she said. “But I—I don’t know their horses. I just—Why’s that window boarded up?”

“Everything’s probably okay,” said Call. He was trying to keep her calm, even as he was staring up the yard at that big, blue house like he trusted nothing about it, like it was the hellfire of satan. “It’s probably fine.”

“What else could it be, but fine? What could be going on?”

“I’m gonna go up by myself, Mrs. Morgan. Check things out.”

“What should I do?” she said. “What if you need back-up?”

“You watch me,” he said, getting down off his horse. “You just stay right here, and you watch me closely.”

“What if it’s a problem?” she said. “What if you need my help?”

“I will give you the signal,” he said, drawing his pistol.

“What’s the signal?”

He held up his hand like so, in a fist, knuckles out. “This is the signal. If you see this, scream like hell.”

“Scream like hell?”

“Create a distraction, Mrs. Morgan.” He gave her a knowing look, cocked his volcanic. “You can do it.” He nodded, steadfastly. “I know you can.”      

[themindmates-blog]

Chapter 12 - Dreams come true

Ylina knew she had more to do. She knew she shouldn't be distracting herself with that, but as the first words of her brother in so long finally got to her days before, she couldn't help but feel all kinds of emotions inside of her everytime they repeated themselves in her mind.

We are all alright, Robb had written. Mother is to be home soon. Theon is alright. I am alright. We are farther South than you would expect. We will be home soon, Lily.

Of course none of that answered many of the questions she had. Where exactly were they? What were they doing? How many men they had? Who had fallen? Who was hurt? Who would come back and who wouldn't? The rational part of her knew Robb couldn't tell her. If that Raven was intercepted and a detailed message fell in the wrong hands, it could mean their deaths. Still, Ylina couldn't help herself. She played with the paper roll in her hands, the grey wolf stamp already dry from how long it had been opened. As Robb's words kept ringing in her head, Ylina had stop herself from crying. We will be home soon, Lily. She had received the message almost a moon ago. How long was soon? How long would she have to wait?

"Pretty lady?"

At the sound of Osha's voice, Ylina turned from the window sill she was sat on to look at her, instead of out, toward the snow covered mountains, miles away from the castle.

"Are you feeling alright?" The wildling woman asked quietly as Ylina shrugged, placing a hand over her already growing stomach. 

It still didn't show when she wore loser dresses, but when she caressed it, she could feel the small bump.

"Same as always, I suppose." The girl answered. Osha nodded.

"Well, I went to see your brother this morning." She said, as Ylina's attention was finally totally drawn to Osha at the mention of Bran.

"Same dream as always?" She asked, widening her eyes slightly when Osha shook her head.

"He said he dreamt of your Father." She said.

"Father?"

"Aye. He said he dreamt he was a golden statue in the crypts. Whatever that means…"

"Whenever a Stark dies, their body is put in the crypts and a statue is made of them, in their memory." She explained, her frown deepening when she remembered just what Rickon had told her during breakfast that same morning.

"I had a dream today." He had said. "I dreamt of Father."

"Oh, yes?" She had asked with a small smile. "That must have been a pretty dream, then."

At that, Rickon had looked down, jumping out of his chair and walking away, with Shaggydog at his feet.

"Not really."

And now, as Osha told her Bran had had a dream about their lord Father as well, she started to worry. The gods spoke to them through dreams, she knew it. So did it mean something? Was their Father in trouble? It was likely, since he had been a prisoner to King Joffrey for so long and he wasn't one to be known for his kindness after all.

Again, Ylina must have fallen into a long silence, because it was Osha's voice who brought her mind back to their conversation.

"The little lord asked me to take him to the crypts, pretty lady." She said, as the girl sighed, still with one of her hands over her stomach.

"And what did you tell him?" She asked.

"That I would ask you for permission."

At that, Ylina nodded. Debating on what to do for a few seconds, her eyes fell on Robb's letter in her hand. We will be home soon. Would their Father? Would Robb win this war and bring Ned Stark back to his home or was it a lost cause? Was Bran just dreaming or did it mean something else? Should she let him down the crypts? Biting her lip hard, Ylina let out a frustrated groan.

"Take him down the crypts." She decided, as Osha frowned and tilted her head to the side clearly surprised.

"You can't be serious? Your father is not down there, Ylina!"

Ylina smiled. There it was, the reason why she had decided to keep Osha around her. She needed someone to question her sometimes, call her by name, remind her that, no matter how many titles she got in her life, she was still nothing but Ylina.

"I know." She nodded. "I just want Bran to see it for himself. Maybe it'll help him to rest easier."

Still visibly unsure, Osha nodded.

"Alright then." She said, as Ylina smiled at her. "I will take him down there, but I better get some good supper for it."

With a laugh, Ylina stared at Osha.

"Are you scared of a few dead bodies, Osha?" She mocked, watching as the woman grimaced.

"Careful, pretty lady." She warned, as the girl frowned. "Sometimes, the dead are even more dangerous than the living."

And before Ylina could say anything else, Osha walked out, leaving the girl alone with her own thoughts once more. Looking out of the window again, she wondered if she was simply overreacting or if she should actually be worrying. Bran had been having weird dreams, not only the raven with three eyes anymore. Once, he told her about how he dreamt more than once that he was in Summer's body, running around in the woods, hunting. He told her how, when he woke up from those dreams, he could still feel the rush of the chase and the blood in his mouth from the kill. When she voiced her worries to Maester Luwin, the old man once again said it was a fruition of Bran's imaginative mind but if she had ever believed him before, now she was seriously doubting it. Everything Bran told her couldn't be just a dream. It had to mean something. It just had to.

Ylina wasn't sure how long she had spent just with the whirlwind of thoughts in her head but when the doors of the small study she was in were pushed open harshly, she jumped, startled.

"Forgive me, my lady, but Maester Luwin asked me to find you. He wishes to speak to you and says it is of urgency." The guard spoke up, causing Ylina to nod.

"Take me to him." She said, getting up from her place by the window and following the guard down the halls of the castle.

When the man stopped in front of the door of Maester Luwin's study, he pushed it open for her and bowed slightly when she passed by him.

"Thank you." She whispered gently.

"My lady." He responded, waiting for her to properly step inside before closing the door after her.

"Maester Luwin?" The girl called, causing the man to look up from the roll of paper in his hands and to Ylina. "You wanted to see me?"

"Take a seat, child." The man said and that was how Ylina knew it was serious. Ever since she got married, he never called her child. And even as a child, he only ever called her something other than 'my lady' when he knew his words would hurt her. "Would you like anything to drink, my lady?"

"I can't drink, Maester." She reminded him, taking a seat on the chair in front of Luwin's table. The old man gave her a small smile.

"Not every drink is ale or wine, my lady." He said.

"Maester." The girl sighed, wanting to cut all the small talk and discuss the matter at hand.

With an nod of his head, the man grabbed the scroll and gave it to the girl.

"A raven arrived from the Capital." He said, as Ylina grabbed the paper in her hands and looked down at it.

She inspected the red deer stamp, from the Baratheons. When she realized that was most likely a letter from King Joffrey himself, she felt her breathing get caught in her throat. She could see the letter was untouched, even so, with her foggy thoughts and the feeling of absolute dread at the bottom of her stomach, the only thing that came out of her mouth was absolutely stupid.

"Have you read it?" She whispered. With a understanding sigh, the Maester shook his head.

"My lady…" He said simply.

With a nod, Ylina understood what she had to do and, with shaky hands, she opened the scroll and read the words that would forever change her life:

Lord Eddard Stark, lord of Winterfell, warden of the North and hand of the King admitted to have committed treason against the crown and, having withstanded a just trial in the eyes of the gods, was sentenced to death.

"No…" She whispered, unsure of what else to say. "Maester… Maester they… They killed Father, they… Maester, the boys, I… I can't, I… I don't…"

Getting up from his seat, Maester Luwin walked around the table and pulled the girl in for a hug. As she sobbed and cried into his vests, the man shed a few tears of his own. He wasn't family of the Starks, of course, but he for sure admired Ned. Everyone did and now, he was dead, gone forever. What would be of his children? They were no more than that after all, children. And now, they would have to spend the rest of their lives without their Father. How would Bran and Rickon take it? How could they possibly tell a ten-year-old boy who just lost all movement of his legs that his beloved Father was gone for good? How could they tell a six-year-old child who was often pushed aside and forgotten by everyone that the one man he admired the most in his life was now dead?

"Maester… The boys… Oh, the girls… What will be of my sisters now that Father is dead? What will that crazy family do to Sansa and Arya?"

"I… I don't know. But we have to take it slow and fix one problem at a time." The old man spoke up, as Ylina pulled her face back from his vests and used the sleeves of her dress to wipe away her tears. "First, we tell Bran and Rickon. After that, we can think about what to do next."

"How?" She cried out. "How am I supposed to tell the boys… How will I ever tell them Father is dead?"

"I will accompany you." He said, offering his hand to help Ylina stand up.

When she did, the girl stumbled, slightly dizzy. When Maester Luwin opened the door of his study, he almost fell back when Daria dashed past him and straight at Ylina, whining up at her as the the girl avoided any kind of eye contact.

"Find Rickon, girl." She said, as the wolf whined again. "Take him to the common room."

And without hesitation, the wolf was out, sniffing the air as she tried to catch Shaggydog's scent. Turning to Maester Luwin, Ylina sighed.

"Go to the crypts." She said. "Bran is there with Osha. I will be waiting for you."

With a nod of his head, he was out. Taking a moment to recompose herself, Ylina picked up the ends of her dress and walked out of the study, walking down to the common room and waiting for a few minutes before the doors were pushed open and in came everyone Ylina needed at the moment but, at the same time, dreaded to see.

"I've got news for you." She whispered, as Rickon walked toward her and she picked him up and placed him on her lap as she sat on one of the chairs.

"Good news?" The youngest of the two boys asked, as Osha moved to place Bran down on a chair beside Ylina. "About Robb? Is Mother coming back?"

"I don't know about that, my love. But the news I have… They aren't about Mother. Or Robb."

"They're about Father, aren't they?" Bran asked quietly, causing Ylina to look down at him as her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, boys. I'm so sorry." She whimpered as the two of them started to cry as well. "Father was killed in the Capital. We received a raven just this morning. I'm sorry."

And as Ylina held the two boys close to her chest as they cried, rubbing their backs and peppering kisses all over their faces, it was hard for Maester Luwin and even Osha to keep it together. They weren't sure how long it had been since the Stark children had started crying, sobbing and pleading for it all to be a lie. For their Father to be alive. For their Mother to be home. For Robb to be safe. They weren't sure how long it had been, but Ylina was thankful that, eventually, her brothers' cries turned into tiredness and they soon were fast asleep in her arms.

"Take them." The girl ordered to no one in particular with a hoarse voice.

As Maester Luwin took Rickon from his sister's arms, Osha asked Hodor to the same with Bran. She waited for them all to leave before looking down at Daria, who stood beside her, and sighing. In complete silence, Osha walked toward Ylina, pulling her up to her feet by her arms and walking her toward her chambers as she moved lifelessly. As soon as they were inside, Osha started to undo Ylina's hair and strip her out of her dress and into her sleeping gown. When she was finished, she waited for her to speak up, and when she didn't the woman gulped.

"I'll ask the maids to bring you and your brothers your supper. I don't think any of you…"

"Leave." She ordered.

Osha's eyes went wide. Sure she had seen Ylina use that tone of voice before, she was a lady after all. But never was that harsh, authoritative tone had been directed to her. To her, Ylina was always kind, her voice filled with sweetness and amusement. Of course Osha didn't expect her to be happy at that moment, but never had she thought she would have been so rude to her.

"Pretty lady, I…"

"I said leave. Now. Both of you."

When Ylina glared at Daria, Osha gasped. Not wanting to mess with the angry wolf, however, she petted Daria in the head before walking toward the door and holding it open.

"Come on, girl. Let's leave Ylina alone for a bit, yes?" She said, as the direwolf hesitated for a bit before obeying. "If you need anything…"

"I don't need anything you can possibly give me! Now leave me alone, Osha!"

At that, the woman nodded, stepping outside the room and closing the door behind her. As soon as she did, she heard a scream, louder and more filled with pain than she ever thought was possible. Shivering at the sound, Osha heard a loud thud inside the room and loud sobs as Ylina finally let go of any restrains she had had during the day crying properly for her father for the first time that day. Now, she didn't have to be a lady, she didn't have to be an older sister, she didn't have to be the oldest person of her family around, solely responsible by everything. Now, she could be what she really was: a young girl, pregnant, alone, and now, fatherless.

Hearing her sobs and cries, Osha looked down at Daria and smiled sadly when she noticed how the wolf stood as close to the door as she possibly could, almost as if she wanted to be inside, but still respecting Ylina's wishes of being alone. Osha sighed before petting Daria on the head again.

"Stay here, Daria. Keep her safe, yes? I will go check on the boys." The woman said, but before she could leave, a whine from Daria made her stop and turn around to look at her. "Don't worry. She will be fine. She has to."

[justanoutlawfic]

Life Unexpected: Chapt. 8

Summary: Emma’s side of the story of what happened that night with Bill and Katie is revealed. It brings up a triggering memory for one of her parents.

Trigger warning: Mentions of several forms of abuse in this chapter.

Also on AO3

3 Years Ago

 Emma stood in the kitchen, slicing the apples, while Max was picking the movie and Zack was on the phone with a friend. Katie had stepped out and would be back with the popcorn in a bit. It was quiet, for once. She didn’t necessarily like that, it was leaving her alone with her thoughts. Her social worker had told her that Katie and Bill had plans to adopt her. That was the last thing she wanted, but she knew that if she told the truth, it’d be another mark on her record. Emma learned a long time ago that telling about abuse reflected more on the foster child, than it did the foster parent. No one wanted to take in a girl that would squeal on them for their “punishments”.

 Besides, Katie was really great. She was the closest thing that Emma had to a mom in a long time. She did her hair and took her on little day trips. She had helped her get caught up in school and did all she could to make sure that she succeeded. Even Bill wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t physically touching Emma. He’d do anything she asked. To most, it looked like he was wrapped around her finger.

 No one knew that six weeks prior, he had climbed into her bed for the first time. She had one foster father that had been a bit handsy before, but it had mostly been lingering hugs or touching her cheek, which made her feel uncomfortable. Bill, on the other hand, said he wanted to take care of Emma. She was becoming a woman, she needed to know what men looked for.

 A chill ran down her spine. She had tried to put up a fight, but he had told her that no one would believe her. So, it kept happening. She thought if she picked fights in front of Katie, that it’d stop, but it never did. Instead, it seemed to only get worse and he was a lot rougher.

 Bill’s voice caused her to jump. “A nice healthy snack for the movie, eh?”

Emma stiffened a little, grabbing the second apple to chop. “Katie wanted it, since there’s going to be popcorn.”

He was walking closer, she could tell by his footsteps. “You know, you really should start calling us Mom and Dad. Betsy says that the adoption shouldn’t take too long to formalize.”

 His hands wrapped around her waist and Emma swallowed, hard, her hand shaking.

“The boys are in the other room,” she whispered, meekly.

“There’s never a wrong time for a lesson.” His cold hand started playing with the strings on her sweatpants. “Come on, Em. We all know you like it.”

“Stop it,” she said, unsure of where the firmness in the voice was coming. Maybe it was because she knew that he couldn’t hit her with the boys so close, but she was finally finding her voice. “I want you to leave me alone.”

“Oh, is that right?” He grabbed hold of her hair and put a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream out in pain. “So, you need to be reminded of who the adult around here is, do you?”

 He turned her around by her hair and the next few moments were all a blur for Emma. She thrusted the knife forward and due to their height difference, it ended up in his stomach. He toppled backwards and Emma’s eyes widened, realizing what she had just done. He looked at her with wide eyes of his own, clearly unsure of what to say or do. He collapsed into a chair and Emma ran towards him, pulling the knife out.

 Two gasps came from the kitchen and she spun around to find her foster brothers standing there. Max started screaming and bolted from the room. Zack stared at Emma, looking at her as if he had seen a ghost.

 “What did you do?” He asked.

“I…I didn’t…”

“Call 9-1-1!” Bill barked at his son. “Make sure they know that Emma did it!”

 Emma wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. She had stabbed him. It all happened so fast, but she had indeed stabbed him. What if he died? Oh my God, forget finding a forever family, she was never going to see the light of day again.

 Zack disappeared from the room and Max’s screams could still be heard from the den. Emma just stood there, awestruck. Eventually, the front door opened and shut. Bill was doubled over in pain, the blood seeping through his grey polo. Katie walked in and looked between the two of them. Emma realized the knife was still in her hand and that blood was on her fingers.

 Bill’s blood.

 “Katie,” she whispered.

 But Katie wouldn’t look at her. She grabbed paper towels and began applying pressure to the wound. Bill filled her in on the situation, completing changing the story. It would be the same one he’d tell the police and the judge. He had come in the kitchen and asked Emma if she needed help with snacks. She flipped out on him and they got into a verbal altercation. When he grounded her, she stabbed him.

 Emma found herself unable to say a thing. She had dropped the knife, but stood in shock. It was as if she were watching a movie, everything was happening to her, rather than her doing anything about it. Another few minutes later, the sounds of sirens replaced Max’s screams. She heard footsteps and the wheeling of something. The paramedics assessed Bill before whisking him away. Katie chased after them, leaving Emma alone.

 That didn’t last very long. Before she could blink, an officer was in the room. “Emma Swan?” She asked.

Emma slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Your foster brother told us that it was you that stabbed your foster father.”

“I…I…”

The officer looked at her blood stained hands and the matching knife nearby. “I’m going to advise that you wait for a court appointed attorney to show up. Miss Swan, please turn around.”

 The next few weeks were a total blur for Emma. She could barely remember being escorted to the squad car with all the neighbors watching. There was something vague about being brought to an interrogation room and another cop coming in. At one point, she asked about the attorney the first officer had promised her, but that was ignored. Eventually, she was signing a piece of paper that she didn’t quite understand. She had explained what she had done and why, but no one seemed to care about the latter. She was processed and brought to juvenile hall.

 It was cold, loud. There was a strip search that she did her best to block out. The food tasted disgusting and the girls made fun of her for being the youngest. A lot of it wouldn’t be what she’d remember for years to come. No, that was the trial. She sat before a judge and explained her side of the story. The true side. Bill and Kate stood, telling a bunch of lies. They said she was wild, constantly sneaking out and breaking curfew. Kate added that she had gotten physical with them in the past and they knew it was a matter of time.

 Just as Bill had once threatened, no one believed her.

 Emma was sentenced to 2 years in juvenile hall. She took the advice of her counselor and kept her head down. She didn’t talk to anyone unless absolutely necessary. She did her chores and went to her group therapy. The other girls teased her for being a kiss ass, but she avoided them, even if it got her beaten. It was almost as if she was desentized to all of it. She was going to serve her time and get out of it.

 One day as she walked the yard during the rec period, she heard the frantic sound of someone from behind her. She paused and found a frizzy haired brunette racing behind her, juggling a bunch of files.

 “Yes?” She asked.

“You’re Emma Swan, right?”

Emma gestured to her badge. “Yeah.”

“Astrid Rosa,” she stuck out her hand, nearly dropping her files in the process.

Emma hesitantly shook hands with her. “Are you my new counselor?”

“No, your new social worker. Your file came across my desk this morning and I was looking things over. I think we can get you out of here.”

“I still have another year and a half.”

“You’re supposed to, but it seems like they messed up when they were interviewing you. I read the transcripts of your interrogation and you ask for an attorney several times, but the officer dodged it.”

Emma shrugged. “So?”

“So, that’s illegal, Emma. You had every right to have legal counsel when you spoke to them. You’re also a minor, you cannot sign anything without an adult present, which I see they also had you do.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“All of this means that your case will be thrown out by a judge. The justice system unfortunately isn’t always perfect, but it does mean that you’re going to be out of here. I’m going to be lining up a new foster home for you within the coming weeks.”

 Emma stared at this woman as if she were her fairy godmother. Before, Betsy had made it seem like she’d transition from juvie to a high security group home. Here, Astrid was promising her a new foster home, a way out of this place. It took all she had not to throw her arms around her.

 Present Day

 Astrid was the first social worker that Emma could see actually try to fight for her. She knew others in the past had been overworked and done their best, but Betsy had barely done her due diligence when it came to finding her good homes. Astrid listened to Emma, she believed in her. She never lied to Emma and made sure she was aware that with her record, it’d be a challenge, but she always did her best. She even got Emma into counselling for what had been done to her. It wasn’t a magical fix, but it was a start to trying to forget everything.

 Then Mary Margaret just had to find out about her past.

 Emma wasn’t surprised that Katie had lied to Mary Margaret. If she had lied in front of a judge, why wouldn’t she before Emma’s mother? It wasn’t that, it was the fact that Mary Margaret had believed all of it without talking to her first. How had they even found out about her past? Astrid had promised to leave that out when she spoke to them.

 She knew that she could go to Lily or Elsa’s, but then she’d have to explain what happened and she didn’t want to talk about it. There was no doubt that Mary Margaret had told David, so he was out. In Boston, if Emma wanted to run away, it was easy. There were so many places to hide out. She knew the city very well.

 Storybrooke was smaller and yet, she knew nothing about it.

David pulled up in front of Mary Margaret’s apartment building, texting her that he was there. She raced out of the door just moments later, almost as if she had been waiting in the lobby. Mary Margaret slid into the passenger seat, practically slamming the door behind her.

 “She said she was going to Lily’s, so I called Mal Page, but she said she wasn’t there,” Mary Margaret explained, her voice sounding frantic. “I don’t know where else she would go.”

“I told Killian to text me if she shows up at my place. Maybe we should check my moms’?”

“That’d be a good idea.” Mary Margaret ran her fingers through her hair as David pulled away. “God, I was so fucking stupid.”

“Deep breaths. Just explain to me what happened a little better. You found out she has a record?”

“She spent 6 months in juvie for simple assault.”

David arched an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like Emma at all, but then again, he didn’t know her very well. “That doesn’t make much sense. Emma doesn’t seem violent.”

“I know. So I went to the victim’s house…”

“You did what?!?”

“I just needed answers. The woman there says that she and her husband fostered Emma for 6 months. One night, Emma stabbed the husband.”

“Did you try to talk to Emma about it?”

“Yes, but I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just so upset about her not coming to us about it and I flipped out a little.”

“And you didn’t think to call me about this?”

Mary Margaret looked over at him, her mouth dropping a bit. “David…”

“I’m her parent too, Mary Margaret. You don’t think I’d want to review the files and try to look into things? I’m a lawyer, I have more access to this stuff than you do,” he felt his body tensing up a bit. “I know you planned on being a single mom when you were pregnant, but you’re not. You can’t just find this stuff out and only call me when the shit hits the fan.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to do that. My boss did a background check on her and I just went into Mama Bear mode, I didn’t even think to call you.” She cleared her throat, raising her voice a bit. “I should’ve though, I am so sorry.”

 An apology sounded weird coming from Mary Margaret. Heaven knew that David owed her enough of those for how he handled her pregnancy. She hadn’t done anything to hurt him. This was probably the first time he could think of her really screwing up. Sure, that probably wasn’t true, but it was a new side to her. A new, human side.

 “I understand,” he said, softening a bit. “I don’t know how I would’ve handled the whole thing either.”

“You seem to have better ideas than I do.” She was quiet for a minute. “The foster family seemed to be really close with Emma. She wrote them cards saying she loved them, there were so many family photos.”

“Those can be deceiving.” He remembered his own forced ones back before his father died. Robert screaming at them until they got the exact right pose in the Sears photo studio.

“True.” From the look on her face, Mary Margaret was thinking about her own past.

“Look, we don’t know where Emma went, but there’s not exactly a lot of trouble she could get into right now. How about I call her and tell her to meet us at my office? While we wait, I’ll look into this some more.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I guess I’m still not used to this responsible David Nolan.”

 David winced, but didn’t say anything in response. A part of him knew he deserved that.

 A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of Spencer Law. He took his phone out and dialed Emma’s number. David wasn’t at all surprised when he got her voicemail after just two rings.

 “Emma, it’s David. Look, I know you’re upset right now, but you need to know that we’re not mad at you. We love you so much and we just want to talk it out. Please call us back and I’ll come get you or you can come to me. I’m at my office, Spencer Law. On the corner of Mansel and Redwood. Please, just call me back.”

 He hung up and lead Mary Margaret up the stairs to his office. Luckily, his uncle was away on business and there was no chance of running into him. He still hadn’t quite explained the Emma situation to him. Not because he was ashamed, but because he tried to tell Albert as little as possible about his personal life. Robert had been an abusive drunk, Albert was a controlling functional alcoholic. David longed for the day he could switch to a new firm, but at the moment, it was the job that was going to give him the most money. Considering he had a teenager to think of, there was no way he could quit then.

 David opened the door to his office and Mary Margaret followed him inside, pulling a chair besides his own so they could both look at the computer. She spotted a picture of Emma on the desk and softly smiled.

 “I already have one in my dressing room, too,” she said.

“It just seems like the parent thing to do,” David replied as he logged in.

 He went through his different resources and soon was able to obtain the transcripts from Emma’s trial. He read through Bill and Katie’s statements first, before moving onto Emma’s. The story she laid out made both his stomach turn and his muscles tighten. He didn’t even notice Mary Margaret’s reaction, he was just so sick to his stomach at the thought of what Bill had done to his little girl.

 “That man doesn’t deserve to be alive, let alone walking free,” he growled.

 A part of him wanted to ask Mary Margaret for the address and track this SOB down, but the lawyer in him told him that it wasn’t going to help Emma. He knew that even if Emma had been found guilty, that at the very least, Bill wouldn’t be permitted to foster anymore. At the very least, he wouldn’t be able to hurt another foster child. It was just a shame that he had his biological children in his custody. David didn’t know if he abused them too, but if Katie was willing to lie for him over Emma, there was a chance that she’d never stand up for her own children. He also knew that she was potentially a victim of domestic violence herself.

 How could he not have stuck by Mary Margaret’s side? Then Emma never would’ve ended up in such a situation. Rationally, he knew that it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been the one to hurt her and most foster parents were good people. Bill should’ve known better. Even so, as her father, David felt the urge to protect her and he had ultimately failed.

 He looked down at Mary Margaret and saw the tears that were streaming down her face, her hand was clapped over her mouth. David touched her arm and she pulled away, jumping up. She ran to the corner of the room, hyperventilating. It took a minute for him to realize that she was having a panic attack. James had them occasionally after the accident. His therapist had taught David and Ruth how to help him through them. David knew that every person was different, but it was worth a shot.

 David didn’t touch her, instead, he stood next to her. “Mary Margaret, I need you to start doing jumping jacks.” She looked up at him as if he were on drugs. “I know it sounds crazy, just do it.” Her hyperventilating continued and he shook his head. “Just trust me.”

 Eventually, Mary Margaret started doing them. She looked so confused in the beginning, then slowly but surely her breathing became even again. She lowered herself down the wall and he crouched in front of her.

 “How did you learn that?” She asked, tears still falling.

“My mom and I learned to help my brother. He has PTSD from an accident.” David waved that off, this wasn’t about James. “Clearly there’s something going on with you.”

“I just found out my daughter was assaulted.”

“So did I, and it didn’t make me have a panic attack. There’s more going on there, Mare.”

“I didn’t realize you became a therapist.”

“No, but I’m a lawyer. It’s my job to read people.”

Mary Margaret tipped her head back. “I put her with a family that wasn’t supposed to hurt her. They were good people. No record. They weren’t going to hurt her.”

“And they didn’t. You couldn’t predict what they’d do, nor that she’d end up with that asshole.”

“She wasn’t supposed to end up like me!”

 David’s eyes widened. Was she saying…no. Leopold was an asshole and he had hurt Mary Margaret when she got pregnant, but he just assumed it was in the heat of the moment. She hadn’t…no…

 “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked, softly.

Mary Margaret’s lips trembled. “My dad would beat me and Regina. It was really, really bad. When she left, he got mad, because I had helped her. He told me…he told me that I had to make up for that…” She covered her face with her hands.

 David’s muscles hadn’t untensed from when he read about Emma, but now they felt as though they were going to pop out of his sockets. He sunk completely to the floor and he pulled her into his arms. She collapsed, allowing herself to sob into his shoulder. He cradled the back of her head, kissing the top of her head.

“You didn’t deserve that, Mary Margaret,” he whispered. “You definitely didn’t.”

 She didn’t respond, she just clung to him. David rest his chin atop her dark pixie cut. As his glassy eyes looked out to his office, he saw Emma standing there. Her backpack was dropped to the ground by her feet and she looked as shocked as he felt.

 This probably wasn’t how Mary Margaret had expected Emma to find out about this.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 16: The Throne

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Kamilah and Nadya don’t deal with the day after. Together the girls journey to the Council Chamber for Adrian’s trial. Nadya is shaken when she comes upon a throne she shouldn’t know.

[READ IT ON AO3]

"You would do well to hold your tongue.”

“Forgive me, my King. You know I don’t mean to speak out of turn —”

“And yet you persist in doing so. I would have thought your disposable nature would be cemented in your mind after your ascension to the role at my side.”

“Yes, I—I understand. But what you’re suggesting is…”

“What our King suggests is not our place to question, Adrian.”

“Of course, Kamilah. I understand. My apologies, my King.”

“As always you are forgiven. How could I not forgive you in your youthful ignorance? One day you will have lived as long as I do now. You will have seen empires of mortals rise and fall and know that we are that which remains.

One day you will understand. For now… begone. Both of you.”

“Yes, my King.”

“Yes, my love.”

Nadya doesn’t know which is more terrifying to think about; that she’s getting used to these nightmares or that she’s come to expect them.

But sitting on a gilded throne in a cavern… being both herself and someone else — and an awful someone else at that — at least it’s getting easier and easier to wake from the dreams. She just wants them to go away.

She’s alone in her bed. She’s in her bed at Kamilah’s penthouse. Her hair is still damp but the sheets underneath her body have long-since dried. When she moves something tugs at her arm — she looks to see the remains of a shirt sleeve still clinging to life on her shoulder.

That, too, Nadya might accidentally convince herself was a dream if not for all the worldly evidence that said otherwise. Screamed it, even.

Her legs feel like jelly but Nadya forces herself up and into a shower. Relishes the fact that it’s not the awkward carved-out space in Lily’s place — however homey it was and however generous she was to share it — but an actual, tile-and-tub shower with more than five minutes of hot water to help her wash sweat, rain, and her nightmares off her body.

Maybe Kamilah didn’t stay until the morning (afternoon? she can’t tell anymore) because she wants to forget it happened.

Regardless of Kamilah’s thoughts on the matter, though, judging by the wide every-tooth-accounted-for grin Lily gives her best friend when the smell of fresh coffee coaxes her into the kitchen she wants to know everything.

“It’s too early for this,” Nadya protests; rubs her temples with her eyes closed and when she opens them there’s magically a mug of coffee within reach. Maybe the Gerard-fairy could get her that pony she wanted when she was ten…

“It’s never too early to get into the juicy details,” Lily props her chin on both hands, “you’re glowing, babe.”

“Am not.”

“Are so.”

“I am not!”

Lily throws her hands up with exasperation. “Ignorance must be so fucking blissful! I’d give my left nut to be able to bone my girlfriend right now!”

There’s a clatter by the sink and they both look to see Gerard fumble with a piece of cutlery and his favorite scrubbing sponge. He tries to play it off cool but Nadya knows better. “Let’s try and calm it down with the skanky talk, Lil’.”

“Not skanky if it’s how I feel.”

Gerard chuckles. “Oh don’t mind me, ladies. At my age a shock to the system keeps me on my toes.”

He wipes off his hands and gets about preparing for Kamilah’s arrival the usual way; a folded newspaper and espresso cup with saucer set immediately to Nadya’s left. And before she can ask — Kamilah herself walks in with the same purpose and intent she does everything else.

Including desperate rain-soaked sex.

Did she expect to be swept up in Kamilah’s strong arms and bent over the table in a passionate kiss; no. Did she hope for a little acknowledgment at the very least; well, certainly more than the big bucketful of nothing her way as Kamilah takes her usual seat, sips her usual coffee, and opens her usual evening edition.

Lily makes a face at her that is hidden by the Stocks. Nadya silently tries to admonish her but, well, Lily does what Lily wants whether she’s a vampire or a human.

Silence. Silence. Nadya tries to break it as best she can.

“So Kamilah, this is —”

“I’m well aware of who she is.” Kamilah flicks the paper in half and appraises Lily with cold nonchalance. “And what she is, is a liability.”

Lily huffs. “Just because I’m not in your Clans doesn’t mean —”

All Kamilah has to do is hold up a finger. There’s a part of Nadya that’s trying to find even the smallest thing to keep her optimistic and apparently that part is a horny little monster; since it makes her look at the finger and go pink in the cheeks.

Kamilah either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Her only concern is Lily.

“You are a prime example of the prosecution’s case against Adrian; by virtue of his blood you were Turned. Rather than go through the proper channels to instill you a premature spot in his Clan he was content to let you disappear and sweep the matter under the rug.”

“That’s not — that’s not what happened, not entirely! It isn’t the whole story.” Nadya raises her voice to try and get Kamilah to look at her.

It works; a brief flicker of dark hues that has her heart racing and no doubt the vampires in the room both catch it. But it’s not something she can control. It might not even be for Kamilah — she’s definitely angry enough.

“Kamilah, you know that’s not what happened.”

“Yes, I do,” she sips her coffee, “yet what should we say otherwise? Either we let that be the case made against him on this act alone or we reveal to the Council any knowledge we might have regarding the Clanless, their operations, and where they might be hiding. Which is worse?”

It’s a question she doesn’t know the answer to. Judging by the look Kamilah gives her — she doesn’t have any answers either.

“I can’t risk them, Nadi’.” mutters Lily.

She looks across the table; reaches out and takes Lily’s hand in hers. “I know — we’re not doing that. I’m not gonna sell out the Clanless.”

“Even if it leads to Adrian’s execution?” Kamilah says it only because it’s something they need to take into account; she knows that. But it’s the way she’s talking that keeps adding fuel to the fire inside her belly.

“And I won’t let that happen, either.”

“My point remains the same; having this girl there would only jeopardize Adrian’s already thin defense.”

Already thin defense. God, it makes her head spin around backwards.

“What is he being charged with anyway? Last I saw you guys everyone was on the same side.”

As Gerard comes around to pour more coffee she catches his expression; his normal ease replaced with stiffness and more lines than usual etched into his furrowed brow. It makes Nadya’s stomach upset.

She tries to backtrack. “Never mind, we can talk about it later, or…”

“No, you have a right to ask. And I would rather you know what you will be walking into” Kamilah sets her paper aside to give them her full attention. “You don’t know the whole story — everything that’s led up to this point. From small deals and micro-aggressions to spats both behind closed doors and within Council Chambers. I’m afraid this has been a long time coming, Nadya. And the events of the Ball were all that was needed for… shall we say certain parties to enact plans that have merely been lying in wait.

“It’s no secret that Adrian hasn’t always seen eye-to-eye with the rest of the Council. You’ve met them. I think you can draw your own conclusions. The more Adrian has pushed for progress and integration into human society the more resistance he’s been met with — even from those we thought saw our way of things at the very least for their own gains.”

Nadya brings one leg up to her chest. “Why do I feel like you’re trying not to say Lester’s name?”

“Castellanos and Adrian have always had a tense partnership — only as strong as what they both got out of it. But that isn’t uncommon for our kind; especially for those who have lived as long as we.”

“So Lester stabbed him in the back.”

“Yes, and no,” Kamilah’s jaw sets; her teeth grinding together like slabs of stone, “They all did; the entire Council — save myself.”

“And we’re sure about that?”

Both Nadya and Kamilah look at Lily like she’s grown another head. Nadya quickly dissolves into panic; reaches out and grabs Kamilah’s upper arm even though she knows it’s about as effective as a blade of grass trying to stop a hurricane.

There’s no mistaking Kamilah’s tone — she is and always will be the calm before and the storm itself.

“I suggest you refrain from speaking again should you value the lower part of your skull, newborn.”

And Nadya wants to actually smack Lily upside the head for having the gall to snap back; “Well you keep saying the Council are the bad guys. Except you’re on it, too. You’re the one we should be rooting for? The Kingsley Shacklebolt of the Ministry working on the inside?”

“You dare…”

“Lily, stop!”

Nadya’s voice hurts her own ears; even the thought of raising it at Lily especially after their confrontation in the Shadow Den… she’s been walking on eggshells made of tissue paper around her best friend. And, really, she’s doing it to keep Lily safe in the end.

The muscles under Nadya’s grasp shift, though. She has a chance to keep this from getting very bloody very fast.

“Please, Lil’,” she continues, “I get why you’re thinking like that — I would too if I didn’t know better — but Kamilah and Adrian are more than just ‘on the Council’ together. They’ve been through everything and stayed at each other’s sides. Kamilah was there when Adrian was Turned — and—and they stayed together even when it meant betraying their Maker. She wouldn’t turn on him — ever. Just like you wouldn’t tun on me.”

It’s enough to satisfy Lily — or her version of satisfied in which she goes to dig in the cupboards for something to munch on and help her think.

But her victory is short-lived when she looks at Kamilah with relief and is met with a clouded anger. Disbelief.

“W-What’s wrong?”

The vampire regards her carefully. How one would behave next to a wild tiger. Only out of the pair of them it’s not Nadya who is the dangerous one.

“I was not aware Adrian had told you so much of our shared history. Particularly that which involved…” she swallows the words on her tongue like bile, “our Maker.”

He didn’t, she’s ready to say — an automatic response. But it made sense given Adrian’s reaction to the man’s portrait at the castle. Gaius Turned Kamilah and Adrian…?

But how did she know that?

She doesn’t know how; she simply does.

Yet something tells her Kamilah would, after being equally unsatisfied with such an answer, not be as content as Nadya to let it go. Not at all.

So she shrugs, mutters “Late nights at the office… he said not to tell you I knew,” and hopes even if her lie isn’t convincing enough that there’s more on Kamilah’s plate than pushing the issue.

Kamilah turns away curtly.

With luck like this she’s really gotta go buy a lottery ticket soon.

“During the Council and tribunal held against him I must remain impartial. As the eldest member I have the immediate authority regarding his case but, as with all things, it will come down to a vote no matter my ruling.”

“So no chance you could go all Judge Judy on them, then, huh?” Lily asks around a mouthful of saltines. Kamilah’s look is answer enough.

“Kamilah,” Nadya touches her again, wary this time. Glad she doesn’t pull away or look ready to strike. “If you’re gonna be in charge of everything I’m going in there alone. And as much as I trust you… and Adrian, for that matter, I just…”

“No, you’re right to be cautious.” The woman’s lips quirk in the barest of smiles — but Nadya is too focused on the sudden warmth in her gaze. It feels like a spotlight under the moon. It feels like last night. “And Adrian will be in no position to help you, I’m afraid.”

“Then let Lily come. She risked enough coming up here anyway — it’s not fair to leave her hanging.”

“I dunno mami,” Lily’s imitation Mari accent is somehow made better by a mouthful of snack, “I’m kinda digging this place —” she rolls her eyes at Kamilah’s glower, “—I’m kidding, jeez. Like I’d leave my girl hanging in a den full of Dracula wannabes.”

“I’ll forgive that insult only because of how little you know.”

“Insul—wait. No freak-fuckin’ way. Is he real? Is Dracula real?!”

While Lily copes with the realization of Dracula in her own unique way Nadya takes the moment of distraction to slide her hand down Kamilah’s sleeve — to ghost her fingertips over the back of her hand.

Kamilah looks back as if to question it but the look in Nadya’s eyes is enough.

She lowers her voice to a whisper. “How long did you, uh… I mean how…”

“How long did I stay with you last night?” Kamilah finishes for her and despite her flush Nadya manages a nod. “Long enough for you to go into a deep slumber. Then I returned to my room.”

“You could’ve stayed. It’s technically your room, too.”

Kamilah purses her lips. “No doubt you wish to discuss it; what happened.”

“Well, yeah,” she shrugs, “kinda.”

But the energy radiating off of her says it’s not a desire they share. It’s in the loose hold of the vampire’s fingers and the way she looks at Nadya without seeing her. It hurts.

Makes Nadya pull her hand away, stuff it in her lap. “But I get it. Not a big deal.”

“I’d ask you to at least give me the courtesy of honesty.” Nadya exhales a shiver as she feels cool fingertips brush her hair back; tuck it behind her ear and keep her from hiding her face to Kamilah’s eyes. “As I… might like to give you the courtesy of a discussion — when all is right and Adrian is safe. Something we both should see as a priority, yes?”

Oh. She nods. “Y-Yeah.”

Then Kamilah’s standing and bringing Nadya up with her by the elbow. Enough to draw Lily’s attention away from the different types of tea Gerard’s hoarded over the years.

He went over them all with her once. She tries to pretend it doesn’t exist since there’s no rhyme or reason to his organizing.

“Too much time has been wasted already. The tribunal will begin at midnight — with or without our presence. I rather think we’d prefer to be there.”

This time when Nadya shivers it’s like someone’s just walked over her grave. Makes her wrap her arms around her middle.

“Do you really think my testimony will change anything? The Baron hates me, Vega’s threatened me, Lester… is Lester. And Priya doesn’t seem to like anything at all.”

Kamilah’s hand shifts, touches becoming a caress on her arm. “Better to try than to do nothing.”

“Right.”

Someone walks over her grave again. Nadya hopes it’s somewhere pretty.

“Does it help if I do this?”

“Lil’ I love and appreciate you but you’re as cold as the outside air right now. I think that’s actually making it worse.”

Lily backs off of her hug but takes Nadya’s hand instead. She really doesn’t deserve a friend like her but here she is, risking her afterlife — and so far the only way she’s thought up to repay her is buying the next five games Lily loves on pre-order the moment they’re available.

Ahead of them Kamilah calls back, “We’re almost there,” and hastens her pace.

Frankly three women walking around the dark and hidden paths of Central Park at night should be the beginning of the end but the only thing that makes her laugh right now is how much she pities the moron who messes with Lily and Kamilah thinking they’ll win.

They finally come to a halt in front of a statue; Nadya peers at the inscription at the base like it’s supposed to clear everything up but it does the exact opposite.

“Uh… Why are we paying Chris Columbus a visit?” Lily asks for her.

Kamilah trails her leather-gloved fingers around a dip in the base with a scornful huff. “I’ve been petitioning to have this atrocity removed since it was commissioned. Nearly had it five years ago — the young people of the world did good work in spreading the truth behind the pretty lies of historians and other members of the victorious parties. But this country has a hard-on for it’s white founders no matter how many corpses their legacy was built upon.”

“Amen, sister. Preach!” Lily pounds her fist into the air unabashedly.

“Still,” Kamilah continues, “if they refuse to tear him down then I shall use him to my advantage.”

There’s a click and the statue begins to slide aside of its own accord. Nadya and Lily look around wildly to make sure no one else sees but Kamilah remains unperturbed.

When the statue has gone as far askew as it can go there exists in its place a descending stone staircase — narrow near the surface but judging by the torches flicking soft orange light further down it empties out somewhere large.

“This is the single best Tomb Raider shit I’ve seen in my whole life!” Lily squeals in delight — doesn’t wait for Kamilah’s invitation to hop and skip her way down the steps. Her voice echoes on the stone; “This is so cool!”

Well, at least someone is having a good time.

“Uh… secret tunnel, huh.” Meanwhile Nadya processes it in her own wild way. Tries not to jump when she feels Kamilah’s hand on her lower back nudge her forward.

“Did you think we met in some city hall chamber?”

Since she has a feeling this might be the last time she sees anything resembling mirth from Kamilah for some time Nadya, spurred by adrenaline and fear and other bad things warring with the optimism she’s practically forcing on herself, stands forward on her toes and kisses her.

At first she’d likely get the same effect from kissing Chris Columbus behind her. Then Kamilah yields — out of pity or passion she can’t tell, doesn’t want to know — and rests her hands on Nadya’s hips to kiss her back and guide her away.

Kamilah doesn’t say anything — doesn’t need to. The question is there in her eyes.

“Because,” Nadya answers in her softest voice, “I was running out of good things to keep me believing we can win this.”

Before her Kamilah pulls off her glove; cards her fingers through Nadya’s hair just like back at the penthouse. Only this time she allows herself to savor the touch with closed eyes intent on snapping a still of this moment for all the awful things to come.

“Should you find a way to share your optimism… I would not turn it away.”

Kamilah’s breath is warm but her lips are cool against Nadya’s forehead. She curls her fingers in the fur lining of her coat lapels and uses up all that good luck she’s had in the little things to wish with all her might that everything was okay; that Adrian was safe and sound and they were in the park because it was a nice date spot — rather than where they might descend into their literal deaths.

Apparently she’s not saved up that much good luck just yet. Since everything is the same when she opens her eyes to watch Kamilah stroke her cheek with the back of her hand.

“Come. ‘Once more unto the breach,’ as they say.”

Kamilah doesn’t stop her from taking hold of her arm so she clings without care. Ducks when Kamilah tells her to watch her head and turns to see the base of Columbus slide back into place and plunge them into stifled darkness.

They catch up with Lily at the bottom of the steps. At first Nadya’s ready to make a joke about picking her jaw up off the dirt floor but that’s dashed from her mind the moment she catches a look herself.

Crumbled ruins in columns, archways, effigies with worn faces and broken limbs. Like a civilization once flourished underneath the streets filled with careless conversation and pigeons by the dozens.

Large fire pits — some made of twisted metal and others mere stone bowls — dot across the ground where footsteps have tamped down the earth with time. Nothing grows here from below but trickles down from the sun and sky above in long tendrils of ivy. If the moss is waging a war on those who once called this place home — the moss has definitely won.

“Final boss encounter…” Lily whispers in awe. Smacks Nadya’s arm gently and points forward. “And there’s even a bitchin’ throne!”

It was like she was doing everything she could not to see it. But once Lily draws it to her attention she can’t look at anything else.

The throne sits at the farthest end of the hall; small from this distance but imposing up close, on a dais of a stone slab with runes and glyphs carved along the ridges. It’s the only thing in the cavernous chamber that doesn’t appear to have suffered the wrath of time.

On either side sit the largest of the fire pits; flickering heat that Nadya can feel even from far back. Her eyes sweep over every golden, gleaming inch of the chair and foreboding settles deep inside her — branches out not unlike the ivy hanging from on high — from her gut to her limbs and so powerful she’s choking on it.

When she doesn’t get the reaction she wants Lily turns to face her. Grows rigid with concern when Nadya’s tears catch the firelight as they fall and drip down her chin.

“Nadi’? Nadya? Shit Nadya what’s wrong?”

Only when Lily grabs her by the shoulders and turns her bodily does the spell break. Eyes tear away from the throne and her knees buckle — without Lily there to catch her she’d fall.

Kamilah, already striding towards the end of the hall, turns back sharply.

“What’s the matter?” She’s back at their side in a beat. Looking Nadya over with concern bordering on anger. “What’s happened?”

“Nadya — hon — talk to us.” Lily cradles her head on her shoulder and Nadya wants to thank her for the gesture but she just can’t find the words.

Then Kamilah comes into blurry, teary view. Cups a hand along her jaw.

“Please. What is it?”

“The… th-throne,” she manages to gasp; both vampires spare it a glance like it doesn’t want to crush their very souls and she’s jealous of their ignorance. “I—I—it…”

She takes in a sharp breath and the words tumble from her unbidden.

“It’s mine. That throne is mine.”