#we’re already a good ways away from summer solstice so the nights are already getting noticeably longer

[pumpking64]

oh these scandinavian summers, with their endless light that doesn’t even leave the sky during the gentle night — at the same time exhausting yet filled with hope and comfort

[rcksmith]

Mine — Kaz Brekker

(photo not mine)

Requests: “9 from the fluff prompts with Kaz brekker please? It could be where they're keeping it a secret and it slips out? Thanks”

“Could you possibly do a kaz brekker and reader imagine where they are both like in their mid twenties. Number 9 from the fluff prompts “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" "No, that girl is my wife”, I could just imagine him with the smuggest grin saying it. Your a very good writer and thank you if you decide to write this.”

“Could I get a kaz brekker x reader secret relationship with fluff prompts 5, 7, 12, and 14 please?”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

7. “I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

12. “I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!”

14. “I don’t like to pretend we’re not together.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of fights, mention of post-traumatic stress, fluff too.

Word count: 2k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like. I changed some details a little, hope you don't mind

Normal Rules. Smut Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — —

Fissure. That's what mercenaries, thieves, assassins and his enemies were looking for. A fissure to drive Kaz Brekker to ruin. Burn his empire, wood for wood, until there is nothing left but funeral ashes swept away by the winter wind. Even the most infinitesimal fissure would ensure that his enemies infiltrate, like hungry parasites, into the heart of the dungeon of his deepest secrets. Swallowing, absorbing, any hint of what could do the infamous the Bastard of the Barrel down to his own knees.

And Kaz Brekker feared that if they looked into the most secluded corner of his dungeons, where it was reserved to hide the greatest truths of his soul, they would find the one only thing to beg on his knees for would be something he would do without hesitation.

You.

You were like the last summer solstice in a world ruled by darkness, cold and empty. Which he kept in a chest locked with seven chains.

If he had to describe you with the five senses, Brekker would remind that, when he was in the bitter cold of the ocean, clutching the stiffness of dead and putrefying flesh like a lifeboat, a ray of sunshine, warm as the summer, it opened up through the thunderclouds and came down to his face, warming that spot of skin like a kiss from the sun.

And it would be with that memory that he would describe you.

Kaz Brekker shouldn't have fallen in love with you. He was the person who most understood the disastrous consequences if he let himself get carried away by the way his heart sped up whenever he saw you. If he allowed herself to taste the way all of your heat radiated into his body and made him feel alive. But he fell in love.

Everything was all too much. The feeling of life every time you said his name, like a devotion, something religious, lyrical. The sweetness in your eyes, the warm voice. Everything had been too much.

And what should he do? Tell you he missed you every time you went on a mission? Saying that he were jealous and envy of Jesper because the man managed to make you laugh with a silly joke and hug you tight, something Kaz still hadn't been able to do? Tell you it was almost religious the way he venerated your smile? Of course not. Because all these things would have been sensible, and Kaz couldn't do anything sensible around you.

Because when he saw life offering him, with such joy, the one thing that had been denied him all his life, and that he swore never to crave, his first impulse was anger. Stupid, irrational anger.

So, for the first few moments, his entire reaction to you had been cold, distant, almost avoidant. Because the way his whole body shook in hot spasms when, in that summery tone, you called his name, it was too much for Kaz to handle.

“Kaz!” You call, one night.

He heard your voice from across the crow club, and had to close his eyes tightly at the way his heart leapt in his chest.

"Hey, hey." You appeared beside him, your cheeks chased away by coral red, the happy smile and the sparkle in your eyes as someone who have the path to true happiness. "Jessy said you were wanting to find a new way to invade that bank."

Oh perfect. In the same way his body exalted when he heard the sound of your name and your lips, hearing you call Jesper by that infernal nickname had a much more destabilizing effect. And fierce.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at you, in a nonchalant gesture but inviting you to keep talking.

“I happen to know of an underground path.” For an instant, the pride in your smile made Kaz want to smile too. “You and I can put together a map today and we'll be right tomorrow to go.”

That was one of the times Kaz should have made some dry, disinterested, trivial comment, something that made you not want to spend time with him, something that made you turn around and walk away. He should have turned around and left. He had done this over a thousand times with other people and knew it to be one of the best outings.

Still, the acid comment didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

So, like the idiot he became whenever it came to you, Kaz couldn't help but spend an hour in your company. Even if it resulted in him lying in bed at the end of the day, alone and feeling the guilt gnawing at him more and more.

So, before he even knew it, Kaz was already in his office with you, listening to you chatter about things he knew he should have been paying attention to. But the way the crackling of the fire flames in the fireplace flashed across your face was a distraction of unimaginable proportions.

“Jessy and I…”

“You want to stop.” He found himself saying before he even realized it. “That nickname is already exasperating me.”

“Why? Jealousy?” You joked, oblivious to the truth.

Kaz looked at you like your comment was the most pathetic thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to screaming: ‘I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!.’ But he didn't. Instead, the words that came out were:

“No. It's childish and immature, and it doesn't fit with...”

"What if I call you ‘Darling’?” You rested your chin on both palms of your hand, your elbows resting on his desk in his office.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat.

“That way you won't be jealous of Jessy's nickname and…”

“It's not jealousy!” He countered, and too late realized that he didn't disagree in the first instance about the nickname, but about the green color that emanated from his body.

And you didn't let that go either.

Your eyes took on a caustic gleam that you quickly hid, turning to the map on the table and going back to drawing the paths. “Okay, Darling.”

After that night, Kaz's self-control began to crumble.

He gave you death glares whenever you called him that nickname, but he never dared contradict or scold you. Much less deny it. The truth was, the core of his soul wanted this. He wanted every part of your caress warm as summer. He wanted to appreciate how perfect you looked when you called him that way. As if that nickname was born just to be used between you.

Something unique.

Over time, his body's physical reactions began to be stronger, coercive and overwhelming. Kaz felt dry, burning, and you soothed and inflamed him at the same time. You were the breath of peace, and also a glass of hot brandy.

And everything that he once felt dead, frozen or putrefying, slowly began to blossom, reborn and shine.

"Darling." You said, going behind the chair Kaz was sitting in, submerged in the Krisha security system sheets in front of he. “You've been there for hours.”

He ignored you, though his body was all too aware of yours behind him, the way your breath hit the top of his ear, how your heat hit his back like a high summer breeze. Kaz swallowed hard, ordering his eyes to stay on the pages.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice rang out from the top of his head, and Kaz felt his heart race into a cardiac arrhythmia the second your hands went to the back of the chair and your face tilted, chin hovering millimeters from his shoulder, your nose almost brushing his cheek.

Fucking Saints! You were hot! It was as if you had sun bathed, swam in the flames of fire, and been born into the summer.

Kaz lost his breath. His sanity. His soul.

“Do not do this.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

You looked at him, the furs not touching but breath hitting each other's cheeks. Kaz followed your gaze, and suddenly the world subtly turned hot. Pulsing and muffled.

“What?” You whispered, your heart so fast.

This was the time for Kaz to use the touche in a very valid argument. To make you move away as fast as you approached. To nip in the bud any path this interaction between you could take. He should have said about the touch. But he didn't remember. Kaz didn't remember his limitation, his traumas, his demons.

In that second, of insanity and magic, you couldn't do that just because…

"I feel like I cant breathe when I'm around you." He said.

After that day, Kaz realized that life no longer made sense without having you by his side to share it. Money didn't have the same value anymore if you weren't there, the robberies didn't make sense anymore if he couldn't tell you how it was at the end of the day, or have you by his side to fight.

Very quickly, Kaz Brekker realized that he had lost the battle against his own feelings. Loving you was inevitable. And having you close to him was made as essential as breathing. That's when things between the two of you developed faster, more solid, more right. The weeks turned to months, the months to years, and your relationship fortified as gloriously as the hilt of a sword.

Kaz still had very difficult moments with touching, days when a single brush of fur was unbearable and the mention of a kiss was impossible. But you stayed there. Firm and unshakable. Giving your summer smiles,your warm winks, and his nickname that had the power to soothe every nerve in Kaz's body.

However, the more Kaz understand that he was need you to he still live, the deeper he hid any trace of public affection for you. Any clue that could sparked the theory in someone that you were the reason, for Brekker, for the sun rose every morning. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Never.

Kaz Brekker became very aware that his soul was harnessed to yours. And there was nothing in the world that would take you away from he. Not while he lived, and even seven feet from land, Kaz would still find a way to fight for you.

It was a logical decision when he said you two should get married. Kaz was still trying to maintain his serene posture as his soul burned in a fire too eager and excited to make official anything that said you were his. That he had finally managed to have that ray of sunshine in the midst of the atrocious ocean. You, unlike him, exhaled your happiness in excited squeals, little jumps of joy and a passionate, quick kiss on the man in front of you.

And Kaz understood, as perfectly as the sky are blue, that he would do anything, for the rest of his life, to be worthy of that overwhelming happiness that sparkled in yours smiles.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said, feeling himself smile because your happiness for the wedding was exorbitant.

And you, like the little tease you were who loved to make him piss off, smiled even more and hugged him. He love you. Unconditionally.

But, just like the ocean waves, Kaz and you have had your ups and downs. He wasn't a man who had a lot of patience, and you weren't the most obedient, calm woman in the world. You found him exasperating and he found you as stubborn as a door.

"I already said you can't do that!" And there he was, once again, lecturing you because you showed too much affection, in his mind, for him in a public situation.

And, as Kaz fucking Brekker liked to point out, ‘all walls have eyes and ears’.

"We've been together for six years, Kaz!" You tried to keep your blood calm, but you weren't a person to put up with sermons. “Is this going to be our life? Living as if we have the same connection as a boss and an employee?!”

“And what do you want, Y/n?!” He placed both hands on his office desk, looking at you from the other side “Want us to have a party and tell everyone?! Or do you prefer to hang a red target on your chest?!”

"I did not say that!" You were starting to get really angry. “I'm not asking for a billboard saying we're married and you know it! The only thing I'm saying is that you let me choose to sit next to you, take your hand, or tell you I love you when any of us go off on a dangerous mission!"

Kaz shook his head, impassable, his gaze flashing with anger. How did you not realize he was trying to save you?! Save everything you two built, your lives! And all this for what? Walking hand in hand on the street? It was ridiculous!

“This is indisputable!”

“Kaz…”

“I said no!” He slapped his hands on the table.

A less brave woman would have cringed. But not you.

“I don’t like to pretend we’re not together!”

“And I don't like a fucking girl who complains all the fucking time about something I do to save her! But it feels like I've been put up with it for six years, doesn't it?!”

The words hit you like a slap. Crackling, burning and electrifying. You felt yourself holding your breath and your shoulders instinctively tightening back. The room was silent. Loaded with tension, as if lightning had just hit the ground.

You looked at Kaz in amazement. And he pursed his lips when he realized what he'd said.

“Put up with? And you call me ‘fucking girl’ ?” You repeated, your voice low, serious and in a mixture of hurt and outrage. “Good to know.”

You turned your back, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind you hard, making the thud reverberate through the corridors of Kaz's soul.

"Y/n!" He called you, striding to the door "Y/n!"

But when Kaz pulled the doorknob and took a few steps down the hall, it wasn't you he bumped into. It was Nina, trying to hide, in a very terrible way, her curious and shocked expression. In female hands she carried a small stack of documents, probably something important that Kaz needed to check.

He had to check that out. But his eyes, restless and quick, wandered the great hall of the crow club below, watching your figure pass between the bodies, advancing towards the exit.

"Sooo…" Nina started, even though the attention wasn't on her. "Couple fights, right?"

But Kaz didn't think before nodding, trying to get past Nina to catch up with you. But of course the girl wasn't going to let Brekker get away with it that quickly. She was betting with Inej how long you two would pretend to have nothing. And now she was going to get the truth!

"So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" The smile of shock and excitement was wide open on her face.

Kaz muttered a curse, gently pushing the girl aside and moving towards the stairs, aiming to catch up with you. But not before answering:

"No, that girl is my wife!"

[isthisthingeven0n]

you’re still here : s.r

spencer watched you die in his arms, believing you were gone forever. but when he learns the truth that you’re alive in london, he can’t help but wonder why you’ve hidden away for so long. (2.4k)

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Salem, Oregon

“No, no, no Y/n, please,” Spencer pleads as he holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as your body becomes weaker by the passing second. “please don’t go,” His cries intensify as his arms shake, watching as your eyes begin to close. “no, please.”

“I’m sorry,” You manage to whisper as tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, the last sight you ever saw as your eyes closed, and your head fell back.

“No,” Spencer mutters, shaking you lightly. “no, you can’t be, no!” His cries turn to yells as Morgan approaches him slowly, resting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder as it shakes violently.

“Reid,” Morgan sighs, afraid to look down and see you lifeless in Spencer’s arms. “it’s over, I, I’m sorry.”

Looking over his shoulder, the rest of the team with solemn faces walk over and shield around Spencer whilst the police take care of Jason Lodgings; your murderer.

“Come on, Spence,” JJ speaks softly as she kneels beside Spencer as tears fill her eyes.

“I’m not leaving her.” Spencer states firmly, still not letting you go from his embrace.

“Reid,” Hotch calls out, his voice firm as he stands tall, watching as Lodgings walks away in handcuffs, glancing down with sorrow at the blood oozing from your cream jumper, dripping onto the wooden floorboards. “we have to go.” Hotch tells the team as they slowly rise to their feet, not wanting to start an argument with their superior.

Closing his eyes, Spencer releases a shaky breath as he gently lowers you to the ground. He pushes your hair out from your face and brushes his fingers across your cheek for the last time.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Spencer whispers to you as he stands up and turns around, ignoring JJ’s open arms and walks out.

*

London, England - Two years later

It was always going to catch up with you, this life was a mere facade for your sake to have a sense of normality, but normality was never something you wanted.

Nearly two years had passed by since they last saw you. You hadn’t seen Garcia flirting with Morgan, heard JJ talk about Henry with such joy or avoided the stern looks Hotch shot over when you joked with Rossi and Emily for two years. But the one thing you’ve missed more than anything was seeing Spencer smile. You missed everything about Spencer, but seeing his smile brought a sense of indescribable joy.

This was never going to last forever, and you knew that coming into the situation. Hotch and Emily helped you figure out what to do, where to go in order to keep you safe. But keeping you safe meant everyone believing you were dead in the eyes of Jason Lodgings and his team, otherwise, they’d kill your team, your family off one by one just to get to you.

Having experienced the trauma from Emily’s ‘death’ you knew this wasn’t going to be easy on the team. You were lying in Spencer’s arms, close to death as you heard him cry for you. Every part of your body screamed to react, to tell him you’d see him again soon. If only you could have, just to provide him with some sense of relief in the long term. Yet if you did, it would’ve ruined the entire plan.

Wandering through Hyde Park, you knew he was close by. Maybe he had seen you already and was too afraid to believe it. The last time you spoke to anyone you knew was a year ago in Paris with Emily.

* Paris, France - One year Ago *

“How are they all?” You question as she sits down opposite you, files in hand as she places them on the table.

“They’re healing,” She answers, sliding the files across as you grab your bag, putting them inside without any hesitation. “it’ll get easier, but they’ll always miss you.” Emily sighs knowingly. “That contains everything you’ll need to get to London and set up a life there. But please, don’t trust anyone easily, Y/n.” She warns you as you nod.

Rising to your feet, you shrug your bag back onto your shoulder as you look down to one of your oldest friends for the last time. “Thank you, Emily.” You smile to her, wishing you could say more.

“Stay safe, okay?” She tells you, unable to form more words as thousands hover behind her lips. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

With a nod, you turn on your heels and walk down the street, not daring to look back as you’ve got to carry on.

*

Exhaling deeply, you bury your hands further into your coat pockets. Autumn was approaching as the Summer nights came to an end. You can’t help but kick through the piles of leaves that line the pathways as children giggle with their parents behind you.

“Did you know after June 21st, the Summer Solstice the sun’s direct rays will begin to shift southward from the Tropic of Cancer toward Earth’s equator?” You can’t help but tense as you hear his voice, filled with pain behind you. “As a result, the summer days become shorter, but that isn’t noticeable for a few weeks until late August when we near Fall.”

With a heavy heart, you begin to turn around and face the one person you owe the most to.

Your eyes remain locked on his feet, an old pair of sneakers lined with dried mud. Slowly, you raise your gaze past his trousers and toward the knitted sweatshirt vest, one you remember vividly even after all this time. As your eyes reach his shoulders, you can see his hair is long again and you can’t help but want to reach out and run your fingers through it like you once did.

“Hi,” You breathe out, unable to meet his scared gaze. “hi, Spencer.” You mutter, tearing apart the tissue in your left pocket as your nerves spread through your system, igniting undiscovered anxieties about this situation.

Spencer remains silent, taking in the sight before him. He never thought he’d see you again, the last time he saw you he held your lifeless body in his arms as he cried for you to stay with him. Yet you’re here, in London, alive.

“Do you wanna sit down?” You motion to the nearest vacant bench, and Spencer walks alongside you without saying a word.

Sitting down beside him, the gap between you feels too big. You’re used to the times of sitting together on the jet, resting your head on his shoulder and drifting off peacefully.

“Been up to much whilst here?” You ask, unsure what else to say. You can see out of the corner of your eye he’s looking straight ahead at the squirrels scaling the trees like buildings in the city.

“Why?” Spencer breaks his silence, his voice firm with you which takes you back by surprise.

“I,” You pause, lowering your head in defeat as you stare at the faint scar on your hand from the initial knife wound that Jason struck you with. “I had no choice.” You admit, hearing the gunfire as you blink away the memory.

“Everyone has a choice, Y/n, always.” He reminds you and just hearing him say your name causes your heart to drop. “You could’ve told us, we would’ve kept you safe, you know I,” Spencer pauses as he exhales his frustration. “we could’ve protected you.”

“I know, Spence,” You mutter, now turning to look up at him for the first time. “but I couldn’t do it, Hotch and Emily assured everyone would be safer this way.” You try to explain as you see the pain that lines his eyes, the heartache held in his gaze as he focuses on you.

He looks older, still sleep-deprived, but there’s a hint of happiness in the lines that surround his lips. A reassurance that he does have good days, the one thing you wished he'd have since you left.

“So you just left knowing we thought you died in my arms? Do you have any idea how I felt?” He’s angry, and rightfully so. “I, I thought I meant more to you than that, Y/n.” His anger subsides as his voice softens, his defences down.

You can’t help but reach out as you look at your hand on top of his, not daring to move it as you study his reaction.

“You’re the most important person to me, Spencer.” You reason, feeling his hand take a hold of yours, resting it in his palm as he curls his fingers over your hand, refusing to let go. “That’s why I had to let you believe I was gone, as Lodgings’ team would know, they’d always know and you would be in danger because of me.”

Spencer shakes his head. “We would’ve found a way, we, we,” He stumbles over his words as you squeeze his hand.

“You think me faking my death was plan A, Spence?” You chuckle, noticing a faint smile crossing his lips. “That was plan Z, actually version 3 plan Z if we’re being specific.”

“Did you ever plan on coming back?” Spencer quietly questions as his words linger around you for a moment as you slip your hand out from his.

“What did Emily tell you, Spence?” You ask, looking up at him as you hide your hands in your coat pockets, picking at the tissue once more.

“Besides the fact you’re alive and in London?” He nervously chortles, catching you rolling your eyes playfully. “She said you were doing okay, and that you were safe here.”

“I am, with Lodgings’ team having been sentenced, I’m no longer a target to them. My life is my own again, I can finally carry on living it.” Looking up, you watch as pigeons fly overhead, swarming down on the chunks of bread left for the swans. “But I made an agreement with Hotch, I’d stay away for at least three years. Three years to ensure my safety and for Lodgings’ team to be dismantled and dealt with.”

“Three years.” Spencer repeats, and you nod along. “You’re not planning on coming home, are you?” Your silence answers his question without you needing to respond. “I understand, Y/n. Three years is a long time to be gone from us all, and people change.” He reasons to himself more than to you. “I, we all thought you were gone, and finding out you’re alive I,” His voice trails off as he clenches his jaw, fighting his emotions that have been pent up for so long.

“Spence,” You mumble his name as tears fall from his eyes. “I want to come home, I do. I just don’t know if it’s home anymore.”

“Home is where the heart is.” Spencer comments.

“Elvis Presley.” You chuckle, lifting your hand up as you wipe away his tears, feeling him tense momentarily from your touch.

“Please don’t go, Y/n.” Spencer whispers as he lifts his hand up, resting it on top of yours as you cup his cheek. “I want to be selfish, I don’t want to lose you again if I don’t have to.”

Tears glaze your eyes as Spencer scans your face for any uncertainty. “Six months, Spence.” The words are barely audible for anyone passing by, but you know he heard you.

“One hundred and eighty-two point five days.” He nods as you lower your hand from his cheek, but he still keeps his on top of yours. “Then you’ll come home?”

“I can’t promise, Spence.” You know lying would be useless with him, you were never the most confident liar around him. “But before I go, I just want to tell you something.”

“Anything.” Spencer responds in a heartbeat, his entire body facing you now as you lower your gaze and take a steady breath.

“When you held me in your arms as I was,” Even after all this time, you still struggle saying the word. “well, fading, there was one thing I couldn’t help but think as you pleaded for me to stay.”

Spencer edges closer, your thighs touching as the previous gap between you both on the bench is gone. “What was it?”

“I wanted to tell you how much I care for you, how much I love you. And I wanted to thank you for being there for me through everything.” Your eyes remain locked on his as you pour your heart out to him, knowing if you don’t say it now, you never will. “But I didn’t have enough life in me to say all that then.” You nervously laugh. “So I thought I’d say it now, as it’s still true. You are a wonderful person Spencer Reid.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as echoes of children's laughter surrounds you. And for the first time in years, you feel perfectly content.

“You know, Rossi once told me something,” Spencer speaks up, looking down at your hand as he brushes his thumb over the scar Jason caused. “scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.”

“Wise words from a wise man.” You comment quietly as Spencer pauses.

“I know you have scars, Y/n. Externally and internally. But I’ll always be here, wherever you chose to be.” A small sweet smile lines Spencer’s lips as you focus on him, wishing there was so much more you could say. “And I’ll always love you, I’ll always miss you. But if I know you’re healing, then that is all that matters.” He lifts your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly before lowering it back to your lap, unaware of your heart-shattering in your chest.

“I’ll see you soon, Spence.” You tell him as he stands up, hands resting in his jacket pockets as he sways back and forth on his heels.

“One hundred and eighty-two point five days, Y/n.” He reminds you, and you can’t help but laugh and Spencer joins in too for a moment and everything feels okay again, just for a second. “I’ll be holding you to it.” He smiles to you one last time as he sees the glint in your eyes falter. “Bye Y/n.”

“Bye Spencer.” You wave to him as you turn around, walking down separate paths once more, unsure when you’ll next reunite.

[dcforts]

[week #1: summer solstice]

1.9k, deancas, established relationship, night out.

Dean killed the engine in the parking lot and looked across the street.

The huge neon sign on the door said Summer Solstice in yellow and orange and was decorated with palms and flamingos. It was flashy and intimidating.

“Is this the place?” asked Cas from the passenger seat. Dean looked over at him. He was wearing that baby blue shirt Sam had gotten him for Christmas and had styled his hair in a cute way – at least before Dean had gotten it all messed it up in the garage before they even left. Now there were some locks doing what they wanted in the back. Dean liked it anyway.

“Yeah,” he said, looking towards the entrance again. “That’s what Google says.”

“Mh,” said Cas. He didn’t sound convinced.

“We don’t have to go in,” said Dean, a little nervous.

A couple of young girls were disappearing behind the door right then. They seemed happy and relaxed and Dean was feeling uneasy.

He was too old for this. Had too much trauma, a too complicated history. This was more of a place for Claire. Or maybe not. Maybe she was too cool for it and she’d make fun of him if she knew where he was.

He and Cas didn’t belong there.

They should have stayed at the bunker, kissing on the couch, like the did every Friday night. Dean liked that.

They could still just drive away, pull over in the middle of nowhere and sit on the hood. But they did that all the time. This was supposed to be them trying new things – being out in the world, proud and all. They thought this Summer Solstice's Rainbow Friday could be a good start.

It had taken them all afternoon to find something they liked, driven an hour and a half. Cas had read him the place's entire website and now they were there and Dean was thinking of chickening out. He couldn’t believe himself sometimes.

Dean sighed. “We don’t have to go in, man,” he repeated like a broken record.

Cas was looking at a group of people coming out of the bar. They looked like they were having a good time. Behind them was a couple of guys walking hand in hand. The couple crossed the street to get into the parking lot and stopped to kiss all sweet and soft right in front of their car.

Fuck, alright, Dean was feeling really old and not at all okay.

He wasn’t even sure if he ever kissed Cas in public like that. Actually, that was a lie. He remembered every single kiss they ever shared, he just didn’t know if “no one around for miles” counted as public.

“I think we should go in.” Cas said but then looked over at him and his expression changed. “Are you feeling okay?”

Dean gulped, overheating all of the sudden even if he didn't have his usual jacket on. “Yeah, yeah.”

He rolled down his window, and now he could hear the bubbly pop song that was playing in the bar. That didn’t help.

“Dean, are you sure?”

Yeah. Yeah, sure. He was okay. He was. He could go to a damn bar with his boyfriend. That's what people did. He could do that.

“We can just see if we like it,” Cas said. “We don’t have to stay if we don’t.”

“You said you wanted to try their cocktails.”

Cas looked like he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes at him, “I think I’ll survive if I don’t.”

“It’s just – I’m not used to this kind of –" he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I know,” Cas said anyway and Dean felt like he really did. He sighed and slumped against the seat. He caught Cas’ eyes. “We don’t have to like it,” he said once more. “It’s just something that we’re trying.”

Dean was watching his eyes and hearing his voice and he was feeling calmer already. He kept saying we and that was really helping for some reason. He couldn’t believe he'd just been freaking out about going into a bar.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, and this time he meant it. Kind of. He looked over at the place again. “So. What’s with that name anyway? Summer solstice?”

He was stalling.

Cas let him, “The longest day of the year,” he said, like a professor. Dean liked when he used that voice and didn’t say that he knew that already. “It signs the start of a new season.”

“What’s that – what’s that cocktail you wanted to try?”

“I think one was called Heatwave Sweet Heatwave,” he said and Dean couldn’t help but huff a laugh, “Oh, God”.

“And another was – Feeling Beachy.”

“Alright, stop, you’re killing me.”

Cas smiled at him. He knew Cas wouldn’t be let down if he said he wanted to go home. But Dean didn’t want to go home. He’d chosen his outfit and all, even ironed his shirt.

He didn't even know what was holding him back. He sighed, took one last look at the neon sign, then rolled the window up and took the keys out.

“Alright, come on, let’s do it,” he said opening his door.

Cas got out, rounded the car as Dean locked it and grabbed his hand.

Crossing the street felt like a huge deal, but being pulled by Cas' strong grip made it easier and Dean felt lighter and lighter. He kind of held his breath when he passed under the rainbow flag by the entrance, but nothing happened, no cold shower, no electrocution. And once they got in, he just felt – normal.

It was a long room, bustling with people, crowding the bar and the dancefloor on the far end. They were of different ages and wearing all kinds of different clothes - not the usual patrons of the hunter bars Dean was used to, but no one turned to stare at him like he'd thought would happen. They were all just chatting away and dancing and minding their business.

Cas squeezed his hand. Dean started to relax.

The bartender was half his age, had an hawaiian shirt on and sunglasses on top of his head. He was wearing one of those flag pins, but Dean couldn’t remember what it meant. He took one look at them and said, “First time?” and Dean thought he must have looked like grade-A idiot.

Not even the time to open and close his mouth like a fish that the guy had slammed two shots on the counter in front of them and winked, “On the house. Welcome.”

So that was a good start.

Then Dean got addicted real quick to a concotion called Tropic Like It’s Hot and went back for seconds and thirds on the mini sandwich platter on the buffet table, all while saying sandwich with fruit should be made illegal worldwide.

They played really terrible remixed songs that Dean didn’t know but got the crowd going, but then they played a bunch of his girl's Taylor and a bunch of the ones Cas liked. Cas said he wasn’t gonna dance but still followed him onto the dancefloor and kind of moved his head and feet a bit while working through his second Feeling Beachy and Dean got to dance all stupid around him and make him laugh so that was nice.

He went to the bathroom for two seconds and when he came out, Cas was at the bar again and someone was chatting him up. Dean prepared for the worst, but when he got closer the guy smiled all bright and said, “Hey, you’re Dean, right?”

He looked a little like Benny, which was weird, and was wearing very short shorts ,which Benny wouldn’t have worn, even if he could’ve totally pulled them off in Dean’s opinion.

Anyway, the fact that it looked a little like Benny made Dean feel instantly comfortable around him and he felt only moderately scrutinized when they were joined by a couple of his friends who asked about their whole life story – even the damn bartender from before leaned over the counter to listen in. Apparently they were all regulars of their Friday events and they all knew each other.

Dean almost doubled over in laughter when Cas said he was an exterminator and that got him thinking that he should definitely stop drinking Tropics, because apparently they were pretty strong under all the sugar. He was glad to let Cas handle the conversation and they were nice to them, even said they hoped to see them back before they left with their drinks.

Dean realized it was the first time he was being seen for who he was by total strangers and not feeling worried about it at all. It felt good, it felt exciting.

Dean looked at Not-Benny walking away with his short shorts and wondered if he could pull them off too.

“Yes, of course,” said Cas all serious, and Dean realized he’d asked that out loud.

Yeah, he should have stopped drinking like a drink ago.

Cas got suddenly very close to his face and said “Is everything okay? Do you wanna go?” and Dean leaned forward to kiss him, because everything was okay, and it was Friday night after all, and that was still his favourite thing to do on a Friday night.

Not-Benny found them again and gave them flower garlands to wear for being newbies and Dean only itched to get rid of his for the first ten minutes, but then he didn’t and the itch disappeared. Also, Cas kept pulling him around with it and that felt especially nice.

They came out of there two hours later and Cas stopped him by the car to kiss him all sweet and soft right there in the parking lot.

Dean felt dizzy and happy and not at all too old.

They got breakfast at a diner on the way to the bunker and although Dean longed for his bed, the sight of Cas sitting across from him sipping on his coffee, his left side lighted by the rising sun was so nice that he also kind of wished he could stay there forever.

“We should get something for Sam,” said Cas in the end, so they got up, went back to the car and drove the rest of the way, speeding with the windows rolled down, humming those catchy songs that got stuck in their head.

Sam was yawning in the kitchen, waiting for his coffee to brew, when they appeared on the door. He had an amused expression on his face in two seconds when he saw them, “You guys are just coming in?”

Dean gave him his donut. Sam smiled at him and said, “Really nice garland, man. Cas sent a pic.”

Dean regretted giving him his donut. He scowled at Cas, “How do you even do that?” He hadn't even seen him using his phone.

Cas was stealing Sam’s coffee and pretended not to hear him, his back turned, doing the worst impression of the Invisible Man ever.

He also put a cup in Dean's hand though, so Dean stopped scowling at him. They got out of the kitchen right before Sam started lamenting, “Guys, you drank all my coffee!”

They collapsed in bed without undressing and Dean got to unbutton Cas’ baby blue shirt and slip a hand in to touch his skin, then bury his nose in his neck. He smelled of pineapple and coffee and still somehow of that cologne he’d sprayed himself with the night before.

"In my defence, you look very good in that picture," whispered Cas, sounding like he was one moment away from falling asleep.

Dean stayed awake for a while longer, basking in an unfamiliar state of quiet euphoria. He was smiling.

He was okay. He was.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

[the-last-cuddlebender]

I straight up check your profile daily for the southern raiders analysis you’re working on. 👀👀 where IS IT 😩

bRUH I am so excited to drop this analysis you have no idea (It’s creeping up to 22k+ I am gonna cryyyyyyyyyyyy). The only problem is that my TSR analysis and “Moon theory” are so incredibly hard to structure and articulate. I’m happy you’re so excited for it, though!!! Truly, it’s an honor. I’ll give you a taste of my madness and what’s to come, but be warned: it may be a bit hard to follow because TSR (from how I’ve come to understand it) is about the vagueness of beginnings, endings, and cycles, so there isn’t really a starting point for me to begin with. (So it may seem a tad bit like a ramble in some points that I haven’t fleshed out yet/am summarizing for this ask)

This analysis has me on trails like THIS brilliant nonsense, and I am 1000000000% here for it:

Roku: “The spirit's name is Koh, but he is very dangerous. They call him The Face Stealer.”

Katara: “We’re going to find the man who took my mother from me.”...“That’s him. That’s the monster.”

Lion Turtle: “To bend another's energy, your own spirit must be unbendable, or you will be corrupted and destroyed.”

Roku: “When you speak with him, you must be very careful to show no emotion at all. Not the slightest expression, or he will steal your face.”

Hama: “Congratulations, Katara. You’re a bloodbender.”

(If Katara had killed Yon Rha, she would be giving up her identity--her face. Not only would she have become a killer, but she would be killing what made her Katara)

Aang: “Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

Forgive him--approach him for what he is, not the faces your memories or your heart are having him wear. See him for the pathetic man he is in that moment right in front of you.

Aang’s forgiveness is seeing someone for the sum of their parts. It’s judging them and seeing through into their very soul, just like the Firebending Masters saw through Zuko being the Crown Prince and Aang being the Avatar. That meant nothing to the Masters. What did matter to them was who the boys were right there, right then, right in front of them.

“Why should I hold a grudge against you for something you did in a past life? After all, you’re a different person, now. You’ve come to me with a new face.”

But anyways...

If I can give no other take-away from my analysis and moon theory, it’s that Yin and Yang are not two entities; they are three. I think the fandom’s misunderstanding of it may be why the discourse on TSR (and Aang, Katara, and Zuko) is so black and white (pun intended lol). 

“But Yin and Yang are obviously two things. Don’t you know the symbol?” I hear some people already saying.

Wrong, sir.

It has never been just Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang have never existed as just two things.

They are Yin and Yang and Wu Wei.

(Aunt Wu has her name for a reason, and she has the mark of the wise in her hair for a reason, too...AND she is at odds with Sokka in The Fortuneteller for a reason, too!!!...but that’s for the analysis😉)

Balance isn’t good triumphing over evil. Balance is good and evil. Balance is standing on the flow between two opposites--it’s the compliment that connects them. (The koi fish live in an oasis for a reason.)

I’ll explain what Wu Wei is later in the full analysis (like many things in here), but here’s some of my evidences and proofs for the “Yin Yang trio”:

The Tibetan “Wheel of Dharma”

(I’ll also explain the Wheel and Dharma and etc. later because it has everything to do with Koh and the moon) Long story short, the wheel and its spokes are representative of the 8 steps to enlightenment and the cycle of rebirth. 

Look at the hub of the wheel. It’s a swirl made of 3 parts.

It is also a white lotus

Here’s the colored version of the wheel (as an alter):

Recognize the colors?

BLUE, WHITE (or gold, depending), & RED

These are the “THREE TREASURES” OR JEWELS.

They symbolize DHARMA, BUDDHA, & SANGHA respectively. 

KATARA, AANG, & ZUKO

water, air, & fire

T H R E E

Bato: “Ice dodging is a ceremonial test of wisdom, bravery, and trust.

Bato: “The spirits of water bear witness to these marks...”

Why does Bato say spirit(s) plural? The Ocean and the Moon are only two spirits. The Ocean can’t be two things. Right?

WRONG

Yue: “The legends say the Moon was the first waterbender. Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves.”

The Moon--singular. The Tides--plural (push and pull)

Lion Turtle: “In the era before the Avatar, we bent not the elements, but the energy within our senses.”

The moon pushing and pulling the tide is the moon bending the energy of its world. 

Katara finding balance between “being too weak to do it” or “strong enough not to” is her bending the energy within herself.

It’s two solutions written as a question but said as a statement.

Yue: “Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves”

THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS IS ABOUT AANG AND ZUKO LEARNING FROM KATARA. Katara had already learned from Aang and Zuko all leading up to TSR. That was her studying. TSR was her test.

TSR is Zuko’s and Aang’s studying. Sozin’s Comet is their test.

Bato: “For Sokka, the Mark of the Wise. The same mark your father earned. For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us. And for Aang, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe.”

Aang - Wise (”you’re pretty wise for a kid”)

Katara - Brave (the same mark her mother earned)

Zuko - Trusted (”I was the first person to trust you”)

Sokka - Bato ("I am to have no part in this--you pass or fail on your own.”)

Yin and Yang are nothing without their dance. The Avatar and the Firelord mean nothing if they don’t have a world to rebuild.

The valley means nothing if there isn’t anyone to live in it.

Fighting is useless if there isn’t someone to fight for, otherwise it is “selfish and stupid”

Katara had to have a reason to return from Yon Rha. She needed to have Aang waiting for her. If she didn’t have a reason to stay, then she wouldn’t have a reason to go.

To have a reason to sleep, a person has to have a reason to wake up.

Katara: “Aang. He just took his glider and disappeared. He has this ridiculous notion that he has to save the world alone; that it's all his responsibility.”

Hakoda: “Maybe that's his way of being brave.”

(Bato: “For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us.”)

Katara: “It's not brave! It's selfish and stupid! We could be helping him! And I know the world needs him, but doesn't he know how much we need him, too? How can he just leave us behind?!”

(It was, in fact, not easy for Aang to ‘do nothing’)

Katara: “I understand why you left. I really do, and I know that you had to go, so why do I still feel this way? I'm so sad and angry...and hurt.”

Hakoda: “I love you more than anything. You and your brother are my entire world. I thought about you every day when I was gone, and every night when I went to sleep, I would lie awake missing you so much it would ache.”

(AND YUE IS ONE OF THE ONES TO SAVE AANG IN THE OCEAN FOR A REASON)

Thinking and missing: a matter of mind (who) and heart (want). 

Iroh: “Who are you? And what do you want?”

Sokka: “We need to go back. I wanna see Dad, but helping Aang is where we're needed the most.”

Mai: “I love Zuko more than I fear you.”

BUT YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT THE MOON FOR A HOT SECOND???

I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT THE MOON

I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT 2 MOONS

OH

OH REALLY???

OH REALLY, ZUKO

A FEW HOURS YOU SAY?

THEN TELL ME, ZUKO

WHY IS THE SUN GOING UP

WHEN IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT A FEW HOURS LATER

AND KATARA IS SLEEPING SO YOU CAN’T TELL ME IT’S BECAUSE YOU RISE WITH THE SUN OTHERWISE SHE’D BE WIDE AWAKE DURING THE FULL MOON THAT SHE USES TO BLOODBEND NOT EVEN TWO MINUTES LATER

THIS, MY FRIENDS, IS A HARVEST MOON

WHICH IS THE LAST FULL MOON OF THE SUMMER 

(and looks off color when it rises/falls because of the angle of the rise/fall in the atmosphere...it’s normal once overhead)

AND SYMOLIZES HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF

“We’re going to find the MAN who took my mother from me.”

“That’s him. That’s the MONSTER.”

8 spokes on the wheel

Katara was 8 when Kya was killed

8 steps to enlightenment (the “Eightfold Path”)

8 phases of the moon

8 faces of Koh

“One of your previous incarnations tried to slay me! Be it 8 or 9 hundred years ago” (but time is an illusion, so hundreds mean nothing)

THE OTHER TWO MOONS THAT ARE CONSUMING MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT???:

1.) The WOLF MOON--the first full moon of the new year (a love between the wolf and the moon in the harshest winters...connection is kindof obvious lmao)

2.) THE THUNDER MOON

The Thunder Moon is the full moon of July. It is also known as the Buck Moon--for when young buck regrow their antlers.

Yue: “My hair turned white.”

Zuko: *cuts and re-grows his hair*

Aang: “I have hair?”

The Thunder Moon--the full moon of July--is also the beginning of a certain Buddhist holiday.

DHARMA DAY

WHICH CELEBRATES THE BEGINING OF BUDDHISM AND THE FIRST OF THE 8 STEPS (the first spoke of the Dharma Wheel) TOWARDS ENLIGHTENMENT

AVATAR IS ALL ABOUT CYCLES

THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS IS ALL ABOUT BREAKING THEM

I haven’t even touched Jung, Koh, Hinduism, and Buddhism yet

or the fact that Katara and Kya are the only characters in the entire series to wear moons on their clothing and that, together, they form an actual lunar phenomenon

or why the spirit oasis isn’t a complete circle

or the fact that this thing that Aang is told to chase is just like Whaletail Island:

or how important the Great Divide and the Solstice are

AND I’M JUST GETTING STARTED

BECAUSE EVERYTHING IN THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS--RIGHT DOWN TO THE SOUND DESIGN--IS ABSOLUTELY MONUMENTAL IN UNDERSTANDING THE SHOW, ITS MESSAGE, ENERGYBENDING, AND LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE

TLDR: Idk how the heck I’m going to arrange or articulate this analysis because it is WILD. Be warned: There is literally no exact beginning and ending to this analysis because the whole point of Yin and Yang is that is has no beginning or ending (...kindof...), so you’ll have to bear with me once I’m done editing it into something that’s somewhat coherent.

These are just SOME of the things I’ve been able to answer with my moon theory and analysis of The Southern Raiders as it currently stands:

Why “letting go” isn’t really letting go (as we understand it...see: Aang’s confrontation with Koh)

Why Lake Laogai and the Spirit World are symbolically the same thing.

Zuko’s advice to the bullfrog is actually a summary of the show, energybending, the origin of bending, and the definition of Aang’s “forgiveness” I stg

Why “Sokka’s instincts” are the reason Katara yells at Sokka

Believe it or not, every time Katara mentions her mother, it is at specific times for specific reasons.

^^^same thing for the moon, lack of moon, moon positioning, etc.

Katara’s mother’s necklace is more important than we realize.

Who the faces of Koh are and WHY they are there.

The true meaning of Jet’s sacrifice.

Why Jet’s episode about the dam explains the entirety of TSR as it pertains to Katara (all the way down to the little girl who runs to get her doll after the dam breaks)

Why Katara actually DID forgive Yon Rha, and the fact that she doesn’t even know it is proof that she did

^^^^^Aang’s definition of forgiveness is completely misunderstood by the fandom, and the way he “forgives” is sososo much deeper than “moving on”, and it is DEFINATELY by no means “doing  nothing” or “excusing” past actions.

The importance of lightning, Zuko, Aang, and Katara.

The absolutely monumental and not nearly talked about importance of Jeong-Jeong like holy crap.

How Katara and Azula are just as much of a Yin and Yang as Zuko and Aang but not in the way we think they are

Why Koh has the Blue Spirit’s face

Why Koh DOESN’T have the Painted Lady’s face.

Who Ni-Ni from Katara’s campfire story in The Puppetmaster is 

How and why Iroh was able to learn firebending from the Masters even though he didn’t have a partner. 

How/Why Azula had her breakdown and why she saw her mother in the mirror

Why “Leaves from the Vine” and “Four Seasons” are the same song, explain Azula’s downfall, and explain the Yin and Yang of TSR.

Why Katara and Sokka are so often mistaken for parental figures.

Why Aang’s flashbacks to the Air Nomads are so important in understanding TSR.

Why Toph and Suki disappear after the campfire in TSR.

How Hakoda, Gyatso, and Kya are all connected.

Why it is so dang important that Azula shows up in the beginning of TSR.

The importance of the Spirit Oasis.

Energybending, healing with waterbending, Aang’s trauma, and Zuko’s scar.

Why Zuko gives Katara the exact opposite advise in TSR that he gave her in the catacombs. 

How everything could be predicted and read by the moon.

WHY YIN AND YANG ARE THREE THINGS AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THREE THINGS.

HOW ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL OF THIS TIES BACK TO THE MOON AND BUDDHIST BELIEFS--AND YEAH THE MOON AND BUDDHISM AND HINDUISM ARE MORE CONNECTED IN ATLA THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE.

AND HOW IT LEADS INTO OUR MODERN UNDERSTANDING OF THE SELF--BECAUSE JUNG TOOK GREAT INFLUENCE IN HIS DEVELOPING THEORY OF THE CONSCIOUS AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS FROM THE HINDU/BUDDHIST RELIGIONS 

^^^^AND ALSO THE THEORY OF THE SHADOW AND THE PERSONA 

The ocean is a deep, dark, unknown place with a lot of hidden monsters (like Yon Rah). Katara needed a light to find her monster, but she also needed somewhere she could breathe when she came back up for air.

If she didn’t have both Zuko and Aang, Katara would have drowned. 

I wasn’t kidding when I said this was a thesis, and what I’ve said and listed here isn’t even all that I have.

btw This all does line up on the traditional Yin Yang symbol we know and see in the show, but I don’t have enough space here for that lmao. That’ll be in the analysis

I hope you enjoyed this little taste, my friend, because I need to sit down for a hot second before my brain leaks out of my ears. Sorry for the ramble. I promise the analysis isn’t like this lol. This is just me trying to summarize as best as I can. 

***Disclaimer: My points are always subject to change since I am still researching. These are the facts as I’ve found and applied them to the evidences I’ve noted from in the show. I’m always open for friendly discussion or any directions to better sources on Buddhism/Tao/Jung!***

[achaoticeternal]

the 1 // d. malfoy

DRACO MALFOY X MUGGLEBORN!READER folklore/evermore series masterlist

Summary: he couldn’t see past one thing, and because of that, he left. but it could have been fun, if he could have been the one. Word Count: 2.9k Warning: Blood Prejudice. Angst. Lost love. A/N: it is implied that the reader is not in slytherin but a house is not specifically mentioned.

It’s funny how the simplest things one sees in their everyday life can bring back a spiral of memories - good or bad. Green apples, paper airplanes, and the combination of silver and green were now forever tainted in your mind. It was silly that something as human and simple as blood and family had to be the downfall of what was thought to be a love that would last a lifetime. And however hard you would try to cast away and thoughts or feelings or symbols of him, memories always had a way of persistently reminding you of what was no longer yours and possibly was never yours...

Hogwarts, 4th Year

September welcomed you with the last tastes of summer warmth before winter came stalking back, only to bring the tundra with it. It was the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and a year of making new, international acquaintances with the women of Beauxbatons and the men of Durmstrang.

Your summer had been less eventful than that of your peers whom a great majority had attended the Quidditch World Cup and some even experienced the Death Eaters return. Rumors had been around about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returning and which wizarding families would side with him. Of course, house and blood prejudice played a part in it all, but you managed to look past all of the controversies in the wizarding world. Over the summer, you had grown into yourself and blossomed into a beautiful witch who was very bright for her age. Others around the school had noticed as well, including the men from Durmstrang that created competition for the boys of Hogwarts.

However, with it now October, none of them caught your attention yet as you walked back to your seat in the arena with Hermione after leaving the Champions Tent to check in with Harry, whose name had unfortunately spouted for the Goblet of Fire. Today was the first challenge of three, and you had done your best to be supportive of your friend.

“Hermione, please calm down. Harry will figure it out, he always does,” You glided down the steps in front of her, looking for your fellow Gryffindors.

“But a dragon! This challenge is unbelievably foul! And that Daily Prophet woman has made this all so much-” As Hermione rambled on, she paid little attention to her feet and accidentally stepped on the back of your heel.

The misstep along with the shock had caused you to lose your balance and begin to take a tumble down the steps. As you felt gravity pull you down and prepared yourself for the inevitable pain with it, a pair of arms and a masculine frame had caught you before the disaster could occur.

“Careful, (y/l/n), we can’t have you harming that beautiful face. It would be quite a shame if you took a nasty tumble down the stairs,” he spoke, his tone a fine line between flirtatious and condescending.

“Oh, I-” The boy helped you balance yourself on the steps again, and you finally lifted your head to meet the eyes of your savior, “Draco.”

“Are you alright, (y/l/n)? Not to frightened by the dragons, are you?” His grey eyes peered back up into yours as you were slightly taller than him due to the steps of the stairs.

“No, no, of course not,” You shook your head softly and smiled to the boy, “Thank you, Draco.”

As if on cue, Hermione had invaded the private moment between you and the Malfoy boy, “Excuse us, Malfoy, but we would like to go sit with our friends before Harry enters the arena.”

His gaze broke off to glare at Hermione, “Oh yeah, you catch quite a view of him cowering away from the beast. I bet he’ll forfeit the challenge five minutes in.”

Draco’s entire demeanor had changed from a strange kindness to a smug arrogance as he sneered at the Granger girl. You didn’t want anything more to come from the encounter, so you caught Draco's attention again by lightly fixing his hat that had become lopsided, “Thank you again, Draco, but we should really be getting to our seats.”

His eyes flickered back to you and his features softened again, “Well if you feel like joining me in cheering for Krum, there will remain a seat open for you.”

With that, he allows the pair of you the breeze past him as he returns to his seat. A warmth stayed persistent on your cheeks as you made your way next to Ron, who looked quite disgruntled.

“(y/n), what was that back there?” Hermione questioned as the pair of you took your seats,

“What happened? Harry say something?”

Before you could speak, Hermione replied, “I accidentally tripped (y/n), but Draco caught her before she could tumble down the steps. Which I guess is somewhat lucky, but he flirted with her.”

“Malfoy?!? But he-,” Ron looked at you, both quizzical and worried, “Did he do anything? He jinx you?”

“Um... no,” You looked between the two of them, lost in their confusion.

“But Malfoy can’t stand muggle-borns, even if they are kind or pretty as you, (y/n),” Ron wrinkled his nose at the thought.

“That’s just it,” Both yours and Ron’s attention snapped to Hermione, “I don’t think Malfoy knows that you’re muggle-born which probably is in your favor, you saw how he looked and spoke to me.”

A canon erupted, signaling that Harry would enter the arena in only a moment. The shock of it all had left you confused, “it was probably just a one-time encounter. Let’s just watch Harry, and let that just blow over.”

With that, the three of you cheered for the Gryffindor boy and mostly forgot about your encounter with Draco. Sure, the memory of it would continue to puzzle you and keep you up at night to only be lost in thought. Yet, December rolled around quicker than anyone expected and with it, exciting news.

Along with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the tradition of the Yule Ball would fall on the eve of the winter solstice. Many girls around the school were already gossiping about dates, dress, and dancing even though many of their male colleagues seemed to be quite opposed to the event. That was until the school announced that the Weird Sisters would be playing a set at the ball.

Of course, the main chatter was who the champions were taking to the Yule Ball because every girl wanted Cedric or Viktor to ask them and every boy was lining up to ask Fleur. Yet poor Harry couldn’t seem to catch a break-even in finding a date for the night. But Hermione would be quite the talk of the town once everyone realized that she was Viktor’s date for the ball, and he had taken a further interest in her. The pair of you chatted as you walked towards your classes together - she was going to the astronomy tower and you were going to divinations.

“I still can’t believe you snagged Viktor Krum! I mean I’m not exactly surprised with both your beauty and brains-”

“Oh stop that,” Hermione blushed and tried to quiet you down, “Who are you going with? I know that you’ve been asked at least five times today!”

As she showered you in compliments, you saw the flash of platinum blonde hair breeze past the pair of you with a few followers trickling behind. It was undoubtedly Malfoy and his crew who were also headed to Professor Trelawney’s class. 

“I haven’t said yes to anyone yet,” you admitted timidly.

“What?!? You have to be kidding me, (y/n). I know at least half the Durmstrang boys would love to be your escort for the night-”

“I-I know that, Hermione,” you flushed as the pair of you paused on the stairs, “I’m just... waiting for the right person.”

“Alright, just make sure you say yes to him. Or else I fear Harry or Ron will ask you,” You bid each other goodbye and separated to your designated classes.

As you made your way up the north tower to try and make it to class a few minutes early. Even though other students may have found her strange and overbearing, you knew that she was deep down a kind lady who wished the best for everyone she crossed paths with. Yet before you could make it up much further, you felt a light tug on the hood of your robes.

“Oh!” you jumped slightly at the shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, (y/n),” Michael Corner smiled as he glanced up at you, “do you have just a quick second?”

“I do, but let’s step into the window sill so that we’re out of the way,” you suggested. He stepped over onto it first, before offering his hand out to you, “Thank you.”

Few students passed by the two of you and up into the north tower, there was still 5 minutes till classes started but you still hoped to be early enough to snag a seat in the front.

“Well, how can I help you, Michael? Did you get my notes from Cho? I asked her to pass them onto you, but I can make you an extra copy-”

“No, no, she passed them along to me. Thank you for that. Potions is sadly not my area of expertise,” He smiled as a little blush dusted his cheeks, “I actually was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? And if not-”

“(y/l/n)!” you heard Draco call and quickly hurry up the steps towards you, “Thank Salazar I found you before classes started.”

Draco paused next to you, giving you the kindest eyes before his gaze turned towards Michael. His expression changed into that of one mixed with jealousy and disagreement, “Corner, shouldn’t you be out in the greenhouses. Why don’t you leave (y/n) alone before someone gets the impression that a Ravenclaw is going to skip class.”

Michael glanced at you then over to Draco before disappearing down the stairs. Before he completely vanished from your sight, he looked back up at you with a very apparent look of disappointment in his eyes. Draco now took the spot where Michael was previously and held your right hand in his.

“(y/l/n), I don’t know if you realize but you are quite a wanted woman recently,” Draco smirked, his grey eyes flickering across your face as if gathering information.

“I guess so... I mean with the ball and everything, I have gotten plenty of proposals.”

“So I’ve heard, but you’ve yet to say yes to any of them, or so I’ve heard.”

“Correct again. I haven’t given my word to attend with anyone, but I did promise a dance or two to a few gentlemen,” you tried to analyze the situation as best as you could, but Draco remained unreadable to you. He also knew how to put up a good front.

“Well, (y/n), I am hoping that you’ll give me the pleasure of being my date to the Yule Ball, and hopefully, you will allow me to take you to Hogsmeade in the next few weeks,” his face had softened as he waited for a reply, his smugness and confident stance faltering under your gaze.

“Draco, are you asking me out? As your girlfriend and to the Yule Ball?”

“I figured- you know... two birds with one stone.”

“I would love to be your companion to the Yule Ball,” You beamed at him, “and your girlfriend.”

That day had long passed now. So had the Yule Ball and your entire fourth year. Now you were at the end of your fifth year and Draco no longer treated you like a prized possession, let alone sparing you a glance. 

At some point in your relationship, the sweetness of being in love ended as he began expecting behaviors and ideas from you that you never expressed before. He still held Slytherin above every other house and expected you to treat those not in Slytherin's house the same way he did. He wanted your attention and affection at every second, instead of allowing you to be with friends and he rarely ever returned affections either. But the worst behavior that Draco partook of that crossed every line for you was the blood prejudice. 

He held being part of the Sacred Twenty Eight to a higher degree than necessary in all aspects. There was a difference in being proud of your bloodline and then being prideful of your bloodline. And the Malfoy family very much fell into the pride of being Pureblooded Wizards. 

That was when a puzzle really clicked into place for you. Yes, Draco had loved you for you, but he also needed his parents to love you. He tried to pressure you into a perfect little box that he could wrap up and present to mummy and daddy. You understood why he felt the needed to continue being the perfect Malfoy, but you couldn’t understand why he thought it was okay to pull you into it. His parents would never accept you for one reason. 

“I don’t understand this, (y/l/n). we took a break just like you asked and it has done nothing. I know you still love me, so let's stop this ridiculous behavior. My parents want to meet you again. Mother loved you and I’m sure this time father will...”

“No, Draco. I don’t want to go back to the Manor,” You shook your head and took deep breaths.

“Well, that’s odd, but we can go to your estate-”

“No, can’t you listen-”

“The Three Broomsticks then, but please, I need you-”

“No, Draco, you aren’t listening to me,” tears threatened to spill as you felt your heart begin to shatter. You had never lied to Draco, but the truth about your family had never come to the surface.

As far as it concerned the Wizarding World, the (y/l/n) Family was also a part of the Sacred Twenty Eight Pureblood families. You understood the confusion and had to explain it to many of your friends and professors. But now Draco had to know the truth, even if it meant he wouldn’t be yours anymore.

“I’m not whoever you’ve painted me out to be,” your bottom lips quivered as you took a deep breath, “I’m not exactly who you think I am.”

Draco’s whole body dropped, “what do you mean?”

“Yes, I am part of the (y/l/n) bloodline, but I’m also a muggle-born.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“My grandparents had five children. My two uncles, my father, and my two aunts. All of them great wizards, except for my father who had no magical abilities - the only one in our family. He married my mother, who is a muggle. However, I am a witch.” you confessed it all, praying that he would understand. Maybe he would love you enough to glance over this fatal flaw.

“A squib? Your father is a squib and you never bothered to mention it!”

“It wasn’t that important I thought, because I’m still a member of a Pureblood family! I thought that you would see over it because it’s such a small hiccup.”

“I- no, I can’t just look over it. You know I can’t and you know I won’t,” Draco glared, looking at you with the same disdain that his father had when speaking of muggles.

“Draco, please. We can lie and just paint over this. I’ll even get my family to lie, but I don’t want to lose you. I’ve never felt like this with anyone, ever in my life,” A few stray tears managed to escape your defense as you begged him.

“(y/n), we both know who my parents, who my family, who we are associated with. I can’t risk it and neither can you.”

“I love you, Draco. And everyone knows it.”

“I love you too. And hopefully, you will get it through your head while I can’t love you anymore.”

During your sixth and seventh years, you never spoke to Draco, let alone offered a glance in his general direction. He shattered your heart after you had thought you had found your person, your soulmate if you will. The only thing the shocked you was that he never mentioned or let lose the dirtiest secret of your family. It wouldn’t have changed much but still have hurt you enough in many social circles.

Even after the Battle of Hogwarts had passed, you still hadn’t made up with Draco and even Harry Potter, his schoolyard nemesis, ended up coming to terms. All your friends were engaged, married, or dating. You had also tried, but nothing ever came of anything you attempted to pursue. The spark you once had with who you thought was the love of your life never reappeared with anyone else.

However, you heard from the newlywed Potter’s that Draco had married - an arranged marriage - but married nonetheless. To Astoria Greengrass who was two years your younger back in school. Both purebloods, caring for their family lineage. The news had come to you at the end of another failed relationship and felt like a ton of bricks on your chest.

No, the Malfoy prejudice was in no way your fault. You had done everything you could to salvage the relationships and love him unconditionally. But sometimes you wonder...

if one thing had been different, would everything be different?

[elriel-sparkleshadow]

A SNOWBALL WAR - SHORTFIC

I liked the idea that @mrspettyferr have. So I write a shortfic. Hope you like it! ps: English is not my first language, be kind Couples decide to play the famous snowball war in pairs: Feyre / Rhys, Nesta/ Cassian, and Elain / Azriel. They just didn't count that Elain and Azriel would have a big advantage since she foresees the proposal in time for them to formulate a strategy and they are both very good at moving in silence.

Azriel was sitting on the chair when Elain came into the room and slid into his lap. A smile on her lips like a promise of secrets. She had run to the kitchen as soon as they landed at the river house, dying to talk to her friends Nuala and Cerridwen. They hadn't had a chance to talk much since Elain moved permanently to the townhouse with Azriel.

Nesta and Cassian had not yet arrived from the house of wind and Rhys and Feyre were upstairs putting Nyx to sleep. Just the cauldron as known where Mor, Varian, and Amren had gone.

- I heard something. - Elain whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

- With that smile, I assume it was a good thing. Azriel raised an eyebrow and kissed her cheek, making her laugh before talking again.

- Rhys and Cassian are going to challenge us to a snowball war in pairs. - Az laughed at hearing his words, throwing his head back. - Cauldron save us.

- I think they've been planning this for a long time. - She concluded. - But the proposal will be made during dinner today. - Ready to finish them off? - Az smirked.

- Certainly. - She joined her lips to his and he lost himself in the sensation, it was always like this as if the floor disappeared under his feet and time stopped.

- They are even more sticky than Rhys and Feyre. - Az heard Mor's voice coming from the hall and Elain walked away, turning red and trying to get up from his lap. He smiled, pulling her against his body and resting his chin on her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

- The beginning of a relationship is like that. - Varian entered the room, carrying several bottles of wine and nodding in the direction of the two. They were probably breaking into Rhys's stock.

- She is just jealous since she is the last single in our group. - Amren also entered the room, being followed by Mor who grimaced when he heard his words. Az laughed, feeling happy that he could finally show his feelings for Elain in public and she relaxed in his arms, leaning against his chest.

- If you want I can introduce you to some people, Mor. - Nessa entered the room, with Cassian in pursuit and Mor blushed while everyone laughed.

- I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage on my own. - The blonde threw herself on the sofa opening a bottle of wine.

- The party is just beginning, use wine glasses Morrigan. - Rhys came down the stairs arm in arm with Feyre and laughed when his cousin showed him the middle finger, turning the bottle directly in his mouth.

Soon they were all settled on the sofa and Rhys made the fireplace light and wine glasses appeared on the coffee table, using a little magic.

- These three I already noticed were in my wine stock. - Rhys gestured to Mor, Amren, and Varian. The latter raised his arms in surrender, casting a look at Amren.

- I'm sorry man, I was coerced. - Rhys laughed when Amren rolled his eyes.

- Today I'll let that go. - The high lord turned to where Cassian was lying on the carpet, his back resting on Nesta's legs, who was sitting on the sofa. - But I want to know why you two are late. - A malicious smile painted his lips.

- Cassian takes more time getting dressed than a bride. - Nessa spoke pretending impatience and the general shrugged before saying playfully: - Beauty takes time.

- Some already wake up with it. - Az murmured and slammed his glass against Elain's, making everyone laugh. Everyone went back to drinking while they waited for dinner and soon the alcohol started to do.

- Hey, couple. Have you managed to break some furniture yet? - Cassian smirked maliciously, turning to the chair where Azriel was with Elain and Nesta slapped his arm, but before Az could think of an answer, Elain was already saying: - I think you would not like to hear details, Cassian. - Az laughed against her neck, surprised by the cross answer, and noticed her skin warm-up, for sure she was blushing.

- Wow, Az. What did you do to my cute and innocent sister? - Nessa was laughing and Elain rolled his eyes looking at her. - Our girl grew up. - Feyre put her hand over her heart as if she had been moved.

- Hey, I'm older than you, Feyre. - Elain folded his arms to channel her sister but then smiled. - You who always had a distorted image about me.

- She's still a good girl. Azriel turned slightly to look at Elain's face. - She’s just a bad girl with me. - Elain blushed, even more, nudging him. - I would be careful with words, spymaster.

- Is that a threat, baby? - Az brought his face close to hers and she bit her mouth, making him want to put his teeth in there. - Perhaps.

- Get a room. - Cassian shouted as he threw a pillow at them and everyone laughed. The noise made Nyx wake up and soon the little Illyrian was being passed from arm to arm, receiving attention from all his uncles.

- That child won't even be spoiled. - Feyre said wryly, hugging Rhys around the waist while Mor and Cassian argued to see who would hold Nyx after Nesta. Az and Elain had already played with their nephew as soon as they arrived, even the baby fell asleep in Az's arms and now they watched the scene with a smile.

Dinner was soon ready, and everyone went to the kitchen, everything was wonderful and Nuala and Cerridwen joined them. Mor who had won the dispute over Nyx with Cassian now struggled to get the baby to feed.

- I will never have children. - The blonde sighed. - At least nephews I can return to the parents. - Everyone laughed as she handed the little one over to Rhys, who easily managed to convince him to eat.

- Just because we were going to ask you to babysit tomorrow. - Rhys shook his head and Nyx clapped his hands together, making Mor melt looking at him.

- What do you not ask me crying that I don't do smiling? - She laughed, helping herself to more wines. - Do you need time just for the two of you? - The blonde winked at Feyre, who laughed.

- It is actually for an idea that these two had. - Feyre gestured between Rhys and Cassian and Nesta winced, probably already knowing what they were going to say. - Here it comes.

Az subtly turned his head to Elain, pretending to fill her glass, and saw her wave only once, confirming what was coming.

- We want to make a snowballs war in pairs. And without offenses Mor, you are the only one without a partner. - Rhys completed and Mor pouted. - Okay, my company will be great, right Nyx? - The little boy threw food upwards, having a party and everyone laughed. Cassian turned to the others at the table. - Who's in?

- Get ready to lose. - Az leaned back in his chair, putting an arm around the back of Elain's chair. - We're in. - Elain completed with a smile.

- I liked the confidence. But it will not be easy to pass us. - Nessa replied, turning to wink at Cassian as if they had some trick up their sleeve.

- Neither us. - Feyre and Rhys exchanged a look and Az imagined that they talked for the connection in their minds.

- Unfortunately, we left too early for the summer court. Varian looked at Amren. - But who knows next year?

- No way. - She said and everyone laughed again. "I will be enjoying the heat while you bury yourself in the snow.

- Then it's agreed. - Rhys raised his glass - Be ready at 6 am.

After exchanging gifts and when everyone had already retired to sleep, Azriel and Elain went to her old room on the property. The snow had fallen outside again and Elain walked to the window.

- Do you think we can win? - She looked over her shoulder at Az and he smiled as he unbuttoned his jacket.

- Taking into account that I won in the last 199 years and only lost last year because I couldn't get you out of my head. I think so. - She walked over to him, a sweet smile on her lips.

- I did not imagine that I would distract you so much. - She replaced his hands on the buttons and pushed him on his back to the bed.

- You have no idea. - He sat up and pulled her to the bed too, making her place one knee on either side of his body and sit on his lap. - But things have changed a lot in a year. - He moved his hands up her thighs. - And considering how happy I am, I think we will win.

Elain laughed, finishing unbuttoning his clothes. - We should rest for tomorrow then. To sleep early ... - Az proceeded to undo the ties of her dress, leaving kisses all over her neck.

- What were you saying? - He whispered against her skin, with his hands working quickly, and soon the fabric was loose. Elain laughed, pushing him on his back on the mattress, raising her arms then, and causing him to quickly pull the dress over her head.

- Wow love. I don't think we're going to sleep early anyway. - Az said, surprised to notice the cobalt-blue underwear she was wearing and she laughed, kissing him afterward. - Happy Solstice.

The morning came even colder than the night before, and Azriel and Elain went over their strategy again before going down for breakfast. Az was in his regular leathers and Elain was wearing leather pants and a heavy coat to withstand the cold. Soon Nesta and Feyre entered the kitchen wearing their Illyrian leathers, as did Rhys and Cassian. Breakfast was fast, and it didn't take long to leave for the cabin, Nestha winnowing with Feyre, Cassian with Rhys, and Az with Elain, Mor stayed at the river house with Nyx.

The snow was soft and untouched when they arrived. Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys exchanged a smile before the latter began to explain the rules to the girls, emphasizing mainly that the use of powers was prohibited and that if anyone did, the pair would be disqualified. Everyone agreed and split across the field, each pair in one direction.

Feyre and Rhys seemed to communicate through that mental link and the high lady laughed without a doubt, something he had said to her. Cassian and Nesta stretched and warmed up their muscles and Elain smiled at Azriel, opening and closing his fingers to warm his hands into the gloves, he noticed the movement and pulled her close, taking her hands between his and bringing it to his mouth to blow hot air into them.

- Ready? - He asked, smiling and getting more closer. She nodded in agreement. - Let's finish them.

Az smiled holding her chin and giving her a light kiss. - That's it! - Elain winked at him and they pulled away and turned away, walking the same amount of steps in opposite directions and ready to start.

Rhys counted down and in the next instant, the battle began, with snow flying in all directions. Cassian went on the attack, a technique that he had been improving in the last years and that Rhys already knew very well. The high lord laughed as he faced his brother, not noticing that Az appeared behind him ready to knock him into the snow. Feyre was agile and ran from the balls Nesta threw, and Elain as a good spy managed to go unnoticed while throwing balls when no one was waiting.

In a moment of inattention, Nesta ended up hitting Cassian in the face with a ball that was meant to hit Rhys in the back and enjoying it while they laughed, Azriel made a big mountain of snow behind which he hid with Elain, going over the tactics of the next one.

Elain jumped when Azriel pulled her to the side and in the next instant, Cassian and Nesta were rolling through the snow in screams.

- Are they fighting or kissing? - Azriel asked confused, trying to decipher what was happening and Elain spilled his head, also curious.

- Fighting. - She spoke when she saw her sister hit Cassian's head with a snowball and sit on top of the general who was lying on his back, but in the next instant, Cassian had pulled her down and joined their mouths together. - Now they're kissing.

Az laughed softly, getting to his feet and pulling Elain up, and soon afterward they dropped the snow mountain on top of the couple who clung to the ground.

- Eliminated. - Rhys's voice came from across the field, as Elain and Az clapped their hands and watched Cassian and Nesta coming out of the snow and not caring about the game, walking towards the cabin.

- Two to go. - Az whispered in Elain's ear, pulling away as she smiled and ran the other way. The wind was rising, lifting snow and making it difficult to see, but both were used to using all their senses and being sneaky.

Rhys was the first to fall when Az came out of nowhere in front of him and dropped him in the snow. They rolled for a few minutes, so couldn't tell who was who, but in the end, Az got up in time to see Elain use practically the same technique with Feyre.

- Feyre, darling. - Rhys called out as he got up and shook the snow. - We lost.

Feyre walked over to him, taking a look at the cabin where Cassian and Nesta were most certainly destroying everything. - Let's go home?

- I have better ideas, let's enjoy that Nyx is with a nanny. - And smiling, they held hands and winnowing who knows where.

Azriel brushed the snow from his hair and turned to Elain, who was doing the same. She smiled from ear to ear and he repeated the gesture while calling her with his hand and she ran up to him, jumping in his arms.

- We won. - She wrapped her arms around his neck and he laughed, holding her by the thighs.

- We won. - Az closed the distance between them, kissing her deeply, so that her whole body warmed up, even in the middle of the snow. - Let's go home. We have to celebrate before I freeze - She whispered against his lips and he smiled, before kissing her again as the shadows swirled around them, taking them home. Did you like it? Let me know in the comments

[emy-loves-you]

The Prince, The Knight, and The Assassin Chapter One

The Assignment

Inspired by the amazing @kawaiikat54

Here’s the summary I wrote for AO3 bc I’m very proud of it:

Janus has never had a good life, raised to be a perfect assassin for the Dark Kingdom. Even though he hates his life, he follows all of his orders and does what he can to protect his little family. But what happens when he's given an order he can't follow through?

Patton is the Prince of the Light Kingdom. His family sees him as just a pretty face, a bargaining chip for peace between the two Kingdoms. He's given up everything for his Kingdom, even his chance of being happy with the love of his life by being forced into an arranged marriage with the High Queen of the Dark Kingdom. But what happens when he's kidnapped by someone who's lived through more horrors than Patton could ever imagine?

Roman is the personal knight and lover of Prince Patton. At least, he WAS Patton's lover, until they broke up so Patton could marry the High Queen. He hates having to pretend that he no longer feels anything for the Prince. But what happens when Patton disappears in the middle of the night?

What happens when the stars align just right? When a tortured soul refuses to kill? When family and duty are abandoned over love? When pain and anger override all thought? When three men, destined to be apart, fall in love?

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Warnings: Child assassins, child abandonment, I’m pretty sure this counts as child slavery, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, these characters will suffer

Two steps to the left.

Clash!

Feign a jab. Step to the right.

Clang!

Opponent is leaning heavily on his right foot. Most likely hurt his left. Jab near his right, make him lean back on his left. Swipe your leg out from under him-

“Oof!” The small figure fell to the floor, going to roll out of the way only to be stopped by the tip of a sword against his neck.

Janus glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the instructors leaving and relaxed minutely, stepping back. Evaluation over. Must have passed if we're not punished already. He put his sword away and held out his hand for his smaller opponent to grab. "Acknowledging your weaknesses will get you killed. Even if your foot has been crushed to a pulp, you need to put just as much weight on it as you would your right. Ignoring your pain, if only for the few moments of your fight, could be the difference between killing and dying."

His pupil nodded, grabbing the offered hand and pulling himself up. He dusted the dirt off his clothes and followed Janus back to their room, doing much better to hide his injured foot than when they were sparring. The room was small, more comparable to a closet than a bedroom in terms of size. But because of Janus' status, the room only houses three instead of the standard seven, so they wouldn't complain.

His pupil, Virgil, stepped into the room and immediately sat down on his cot, cradling his injured foot. Janus sighed and pried open the moldy floorboards, grabbing the small medkit hidden he’d stolen months ago. Virgil saw the medkit and shook his head "m fine."

Janus frowned, kneeling in front of him. "You obviously aren't, now let me take a look at it." He lightly grabbed Virgil by the calf and carefully removed his sock and shoe. He took note of Virgil's wince as he examined his limb. His foot appeared to be in perfect health, but his ankle was swollen slightly.

Virgil huffed softly, turning away. "See? I'm fine. No use in wasting supplies." He yelped when Janus poked his ankle, trying to jerk back but his leg stuck in Janus' firm grip.

Janus rolled his eyes. "Just let me wrap you up and give you a painkiller, Vee." He grabbed the roll of bandages, not waiting for Virgil’s response as he wrapped his ankle. Virgil huffed and grumbled under his breath.

Knock knock-knock knock

Janus tensed up before he recognized the knock pattern, relaxing. “Come in.” He didn’t bother turning back to look as he meticulously wrapped Virgil’s ankle. He heard the door open and closed followed by a sigh.

“I knew you twisted your ankle yesterday.” The person behind him drawled. “If you had let me tend to it yesterday-”

“Yeah, I know.” Virgil flushed and looked away. “But it felt fine yesterday, and if the supervisors had seen the bandages-”

“It would’ve been a risk we were willing to take.” He finished wrapping his foot and sat up, making deliberate eye contact with Virgil as he spoke. “We would’ve hidden them under your clothes, and if they still somehow saw it I would’ve taken the blame, not you. I’m the only one here with potential access to medical supplies.” Janus was the only one who went on unsupervised missions, the others too young so they were heavily supervised.

Virgil frowned, his gaze flickering to the left half Janus’ face as he remained silent. Janus ignored it, used to people staring at the scar. It started at the inner corner of his eye and trailed just under his cheekbone, ending at his jaw just under his ear. He’d gotten it when he was 8, a warning for hesitating in the middle of a mission. The only reason he wasn’t killed on the spot was that he was a prodigy at what he did.

Janus put the bandages away and searched for some pain medication. “Did your evaluation go well, Lo?”

Logan, or ‘Lo’ as Janus had so eloquently put it, sighed. “They changed the assignment as soon as I arrived in an attempt to throw me off guard. I still managed to pass, if barely.” He knelt down next to Janus, and Janus resisted the urge to frown. They’re being a lot more strict on evaluations now. Have they forgotten that they’re doing this to children? Or maybe they want them to fail so they can be broken down more. Janus mentally shook away the thought as he handed Virgil a pill, trying not to seem too obvious.

Virgil noticed though. He always noticed the little things. “That’s the last pill. We should save it for when we need it.”

Janus shook his head. “I’ll go smuggle some more on my next mission.”

Virgil scooted back, looking away. “I told you I’m fine-”

Logan crawled over to Virgil’s side, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “Just please take the pill, Virgil.” Janus watched as Logan and Virgil stared at each other, their mini battle-of-wills adorable to watch when you ignored the context. Virgil eventually sighed, taking the pill and swallowing without water as Logan rubbed his hand soothingly. Janus watched out of the corner of his eye as he put the medical supplies away, smiling softly at their interaction. It was moments like these that reminded Janus why he kept himself alive, why he kept listening to the High Queen’s demands.

No one in the Dark Kingdom could remember a time before the High Queen’s rule. She ruled the land with an iron fist, though most of the citizens were left unaware of the true horrors that lied behind the castle walls.

Janus was one of those horrors. Raised by birth to do the one thing that he was good at anymore: killing. Janus was an assassin for the High Queen.

“Jan?” Janus looked down at Virgil, snapping himself out of thought. “Are we busy today?”

Janus sighed. “I have to go receive my new mission from her highness at sunset, but you have nothing to do until training tomorrow.”

Virgil nodded and snuggled into Logan’s side, making grabby hands towards Janus. Janus smiled, rolling his eyes fondly as he crawled onto the tiny cot. His two pupils adjusted themselves accordingly, one on each side as they used his shoulders as pillows, their hands linked together over his chest. Janus watched over them as their breathing slowed, their grips on each other and Janus refusing to go slack as they drifted into slumber.

Janus frowned, starting up at the ceiling above him. They didn’t deserve to suffer through this type of life. Hell, if it wasn’t for the High Queen’s order for the older assassins to train the younger ones as mentors, Janus was sure that they wouldn’t have lasted. They were good at what they did, but not good enough for her majesty.

Virgil whimpered softly and Janus was quick to shush him, petting his hair and wiping away his fresh tears. The kid had nightmares almost every night, and Janus learned that it was best for him to just sleep through them. If he woke up there was a chance he would still remember what he dreamed about in the morning, and Janus refused to put him through that.

Janus sighed, his mind going back to the documents he had found and read years ago. It had included information on all of the children operatives in this program. Janus had only read the information on himself and his two pupils, not having much time and deeming the rest irrelevant. Before then, they didn’t even have their real names to go by, just the codenames that the higher-ups gave them.

Virgil, codenamed Widow. Ten years old, will turn eleven near the winter solstice. Was neglected in an orphanage and later ‘donated’ to the Kingdom’s cause at almost four years old. An odd case, especially since operatives were usually initiated at 1-2 years old. Specializes in stealth and poisoning, and can blend in with almost any crowd. Can climb and run quickly, but quite weak in terms of hand-to-hand combat.

Logan, codenamed Sparrow. Turned nine near the spring equinox. Was sold to the castle at 14 months old. A natural prodigy, second only to Deceit, but tends to lose any form of stealth without Widow or Deceit by his side. Prefers to use a throwing knife and call it a day over making it look like a natural death. Is usually partnered with Widow to keep him in check.

Janus, codenamed Deceit. Turned nineteen near the summer solstice. Son of a noble who ‘donated’ him to the cause the moment he was born. First child to be entered into the program, and the oldest one in it. Raised to be the perfect killer. Completes every mission perfectly, other than the instance where he got his scar. The High Queen’s ‘favorite.’ Assigned as Logan’s mentor when he was 11, and Virgil’s a little over a year later. Can kill someone with almost anything, but specializes in swords.

Janus sighed, carding his hands through his pupils’ hair. He saw them as something akin to younger brothers, someone that he needed to watch over and take care of. But that was quickly changing. They were already so big, and Janus was dreading the day that the higher-ups would notice and kill the youthful light in their eyes. They still laughed and smiled, even if it was just in the comfort of their little room. They still cared about eachother and trusted the other to catch them when they fell. They didn’t have the same cynical view on the world that Janus did.

But that wouldn’t last forever. Janus knew they could take care of themselves now, but Janus still dreaded the day they would be forced to do so. The day that Janus was given too big of a task and didn’t come home. The inevitable day that the higher-ups noticed how close they were and started using them against each other.

Janus shook his head. It wouldn’t do good to dwell on such thoughts. He needed to live in the moment while he still had a happy moment to live in.

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

When the sun just started to set along the horizon, Janus carefully pulled himself out from under his pseudo-brothers. They immediately latched onto each other, and Janus smiled softly before schooling his features. He quickly stepped out of the room, ignoring the chilly hallway as he walked through the castle, past the dozens of rooms filled to the brim with child soldiers.

He reached the throne room just as the sun disappeared below the horizon, not bothering to glance around the room as he walked down the familiar path towards the High Queen’s throne. He knelt down at the base of the throne, his gaze down towards the expensive silver-lined shoes in front of him. “Your majesty.”

A hand carded through his hair and he stopped himself from flinching or tensing up, already expecting it to happen. “Deccceit… my preccciousss sssnake…” The hand tugged, not quite harsh but definitely not gentle, and Janus looked up at the High Queen. She reminded Janus of a dragon, her old, wrinkly skin reminding him of dragon scales. She tended to speak softly in low hisses, but Janus was used to straining to hear what she said. “I have a tassssk for you.”

He kept his expression neutral, not showing any emotion as he droned out his response. “Anything for you, my Queen.” He bit back a shudder as she kept carding her fingers through his hair. She had once claimed to see Janus as a son to her, but Janus would never see her as a mother. She was cruel and manipulative, and only saw people as pieces to her own master plan.

“The Light Kingdom hasss deccccided to negotiate peacccce with ussss.” Janus inwardly relaxed, already knowing what she would say. This wasn’t the first time they had tried to negotiate peace, and this wasn’t the first time she had sent Janus out to deal with it. The High Queen didn’t wish for peace, or even to win her battle against the Light Kingdom. No, she craved the violence and war between the two kingdoms, the constant pain and suffering that everyone around her was forced to endure at her expense. So, she would order him to kill the light side’s politicians before they reached the meeting point, make it look like they all disappeared out of thin air-

“They offered the Princccce’sssss hand in exchange for peacccccce.” Janus barely held back his shock. Prince Patton was eighteen, and the only heir to the throne. Either the King and Queen wanted to fully merge the kingdoms (which was highly unlikely) or they weren’t wanting the Prince to rule. But that also left a much more concerning matter at hand. The Queen didn’t want to establish peace, which meant Janus’ task-

“Your tassssk isss to kill the Princcccce.” The hand kept carding through his hair, her voice calm and light, as if she was discussing the weather and not murder. “You’ll leave tonight. I’ll have sssssomeone bring you to the border. The wedding isssss ssssscheduled to occur in two and a half weekssss. I expect to hear about hissssss death long before then.”

He nodded, ice flooding his veins. He had only killed corrupt politicians and men with no morals. He’d never killed someone so young, and the thought made his stomach churn. But he had no choice. “It will be done, my Queen.”

She laughed a cruel wicked laugh and dismissed him to grab his weapons. He left, feeling numb as he traveled through the halls, the task finally sinking in. He had to infiltrate the Light Kingdom’s castle and assassinate the crown prince. An impossible task for most, and highly improbable for Janus. If he was caught or failed his task, he would be killed or worse. And he would never see Logan or Virgil again.

Janus swept into the room, knowing that he didn’t have much time before he had to leave. He packed his weapons and gently shook his charges awake, his dread momentarily paused by their sleepy expressions. “I’m assigned to leave tonight. If everything goes according to plan I’ll be back in less than three weeks.”

The children said nothing as they wrapped themselves around Janus, holding him tight. The fact that he said ‘if everything goes according to plan’ meant that he wasn’t confident about this mission, and they immediately held on for dear life.

He smiled sadly, rubbing their backs soothingly. “I need to leave now. Go back to sleep, you have training in the morning.” He didn’t promise to come back. These were the only two people that Janus swore never to lie to, and he wasn’t going to do it now just to give them a moment of false hope. They soon fell back asleep on the cot, holding each other tighter than before, and Janus slipped out the door and into the night.

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @kawaiikat54 @artsy-enby09 @irritating-lady-knight @girl-who-reads @larrymalecsolangelo

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty-six: rain on me

a/n: not gonna lie, this one was a little hard to write. yeah, i’m almost numb to bad things happening in the world, but i found this exceptionally difficult for some reason.

It would be another couple of months before any of them heard a peep from Metallica once more, and the whole entire span of the spring time, Sam yearned to see Cliff yet again: she never did give him the hat back to him following that show. She still wore it every day as she walked on to the subway and onward to her first class, but she always took it off after school let out and she took the subway back home, or she rode home with Charlie and Marla. It started on that first day after they had returned home from Syracuse and she took off the hat on the last hour of the ride home and she set it upon her lap. That manifested into a habit when she took the subway to and from school the day after: hat atop her head on the way day and all throughout the school day, but she took it off once she stepped onto the subway. She held it close to her chest when she stood next to the pole and she rested it upon her lap when she took a seat.

All the while, the bitter cold and the snows waned away from the Northeast and gave way to fresh new leaves upon the trees. The brim of his hat protected her eyes from the blinding sun as the spring term made its way forth.

It was a warm afternoon near the tail end of May following her introduction to stained glass class, which she continued to get the hang of, especially since it was only a single class during the week and Belinda wasn't too proud of that fact, either. Marla had asked her as to why that was the case and Belinda had no idea about it, and the little glass splinters in the girls' fingers only made the whole thing unappetizing. The whole thing was bittersweet to think about, especially since there was one week left before finals.

Meanwhile, she walked along the sidewalk with the brim of that dark hat held up high: she adjusted the brim with two fingers, the same ones with a bandage on either one. Perhaps it was the feeling of the sun to her back, but the hat upon her head made the crown feel hot to the touch. She strode past a ground level window and she stopped for a second to better adjust the hat for a bit of relief on her head. She gazed on at her face, which had grown rounder from the winter having gone by, and her body, slightly heavier and rounder.

Cliff and Joey's words to her rang through her mind whenever she saw her own reflection. Maybe they were enabling it. Maybe they were sincere with it. She had no idea as to what to think with it in mind.

Sam sighed through her nose and then she pressed onward to her building.

She made her way inside of the foyer and she spotted Aurora in the doorway of Emile's apartment. She giggled at something he had said to her, and Sam wandered closer to her. Aurora turned her head and her face lit up at the sight of her.

“Hey, Sam! How was school?”

“Good—what's going on?”

“Emile was just telling me something about something that happened to him down in New Orleans before he moved up here.”

“I should give you some of my Mardi Gras beads,” Emile himself called from inside of the apartment. “Both of you ladies, actually—”

“He has to find them first,” Aurora explained, and Sam wondered what was happening there between the two of them.

“I have to check my mail, anyways,” she gingerly added. “It is Wednesday, after all.” Sam scurried away from there and towards the metal mailboxes on the wall. She opened the little door, and in turn revealed three envelopes: a white one, which she assumed was from the school; a yellow one, which she knew was for her rent; and a soft pink one, which she wondered where it came from. She took them out of their hiding place and she examined the pink one first.

It took her a second to recognize Cliff's name scrawled on the front in blue ink. She peered over her shoulder, and Aurora had gone into Emile's apartment. She shut the mailbox door and doubled back down the corridor; she ducked past the door and she darted up the stairs to her place.

She couldn't open the door and take off that hat fast enough. She shook her dark hair about and left the door slightly ajar so a bit of a flow came in from the corridor behind her. She took her seat on the couch and, careful not to tear that soft pink paper, she opened the envelope and she took out his letter, which he wrote on a sheet of plain white paper. She had to read it twice given she wasn't familiar with his penmanship.

“Sam—dearest Samantha—

I'm writing to you from a little hotel room in Chicago. We're going out to Des Moines in about an hour, right before we go play at the Iowa State Fairgrounds, so I'm going to make this quick. Legacy are here right now, having flown out last night to see us at both shows. Given it's Memorial Day and school is almost out, Alex is sitting right next to me right now. Yeah, believe it or not, he's sitting right next to me and he's looking a little rounder than he was before when I got that little piece of rice paper from him—I'm thinking he ate pretty well over Christmas break, which makes me feel better about the way in which he's living well here. But I'm not here to tell you about him: I'm here to tell you how I feel about you.

The sun is shining right over me. It's going to be the Summer Solstice soon. And I think about the way in which you looked in the shrub there next to the bus, the way your hair seemed to shine even in the shadow. You are so beautiful and so gentle that I need to have you with me. What the hell was I thinking, not trusting you?

I need to be around you. I need to be closer to you. This is coming hot off the heels of my eavesdropping on Lars and James having a conversation about something, and then Kirk and James having a discussion about firing Lars. Alex and I both heard it loud and clear—but I guess Dave knows about it more than I do, too.

I'm a little worried about things coming to a head soon following the European stint of the tour. We're leaving for a couple of dates in over Europe right before Fourth of July weekend and then we come back to the Midwest about a week later—I don't get it, either. We come back to New York in August and then we leave for Europe for real after Labor Day weekend. I know that date in New York will be the last I see you for a while so I'm going to relish every second you and I are together there. It's the last date on the North American stint, too, so we can go and do something after the show. I can show you some of Canada if you wish—you'll love it up in Quebec.

I trust you with my life, Sam. As I'm writing this to you, I already feel empowered to stand up to James and Kirk. And I feel empowered to talk and rekindle things with Lars again. Even just on paper, you make me feel more of a man. You make me feel like a better man. Take that back: you make me a better man.

If nothing, I can do something beyond that. The power is in my hands. It's all within my hands if nothing else.

I had lunch with Chuck and Eric just a little bit ago and I spotted a bouquet of yellow tulips on the way there. I have another idea than that, though—another better idea that's bloomed out from the yellow tulips. I'll leave that little surprise for when we return to New York in August.

All my love,

Cliff.”

Her heart skipped a bit and she wondered what he had in store for her. A knock on the door caught her attention and Aurora poked her head into the apartment: Sam caught the sound of beads tinkling together behind the panel. Aurora showed her a series of hot pink and golden Mardi Gras beads.

“Party,” she said.

“Party indeed,” Sam echoed as she slipped the letter back into the envelope and she set it on the table next to her, even though she remembered that Aurora had seen them by the shrub. “By the way—are you and Emile friends to each other?”

“Yes!” she replied with a grin on her face, and she slipped the beads over Sam's head. She herself set her wounded fingers on the golden beads, which were all in the shape of fish. Her fingers ached from the glass splinters and those painful little wounds. Aurora frowned at the bandages.

“Scars from being around Belinda,” Sam replied with a shrug of her shoulders, and that made her chuckle. She nibbled on her bottom lip and Aurora shifted her weight a bit.

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” Sam asked her, as she glanced over at the pink envelope right next to her knee.

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” Aurora echoed her. She nibbled on her bottom lip and she lowered her gaze to the beads around her neck.

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Sam asked her in a low voice, and without a moment's hesitation, Aurora stuck out her pinky finger. They linked fingers to bond it together; Sam then fetched up a sigh.

“Okay. I've been seeing Cliff.”

“I had a feeling that was the case,” Aurora confessed with a nod of her head.

“It's long distance, though,” Sam continued as she reached for the pink envelope. “He and I hung out together over Christmas break at my parents' house. I also got to meet his parents and his sister, too. We even had our first fight.”

“Wow,” Aurora raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah. We're—pretty much a thing now.” She turned over the envelope so Aurora could see the scrawl inked on the front. “He just wrote a letter to me from Chicago. He just told me that I make him a better man.”

Aurora cocked her head to the side and brought a hand to her chest.

“Oh, my god,” she breathed out.

“Yeah. It's so sweet, isn't it?”

“That's so romantic.”

“He even gave me his hat!” Sam picked up the black hat from the couch cushion next to her.

“I was wondering where you got that!” Aurora confessed.

“He's just—he's been nothing to sweet to me. I think—I think he might be the one.”

Aurora took a seat on the arm of the couch, right next to her.

“Did Marla tell you we drew him in class?” Sam asked her.

“No!” Aurora's face turned bright pink at the sound of that.

“Yeah. He came into our drawing class back in January after his date had been pushed back a couple of times, and—let's just say I have yet to show it to him.” Sam flashed her a wink.

“Boyfriend and muse,” Aurora concluded.

“Boyfriend and muse...” Sam's voice trailed off at that and she lay the envelope upon her lap. She imagined Cliff himself right next to her. Her dark prince upon his black horse. She turned her head into Aurora's direction.

“What's going on with you and Emile?” She cleared her throat.

“Same story there,” Aurora confessed.

“Really?” Sam gaped at that.

“Yeah. I showed up here some time ago and I asked him where your apartment is. It was raining that day, too, and I didn't know it was going to, either, so he let me into his place for a cup of tea and he also offered to help me dry off. Apparently, he and his wife are separated—” Aurora shifted her weight on the arm of the couch and she grimaced a little bit at the sound of that. “But same story there, too: he's been nothing but sweet to me. One of the first genuinely lovely things he told me was he loves how I'm vegetarian. He's such a kind person, and you are lucky to have him for her landlord, Sam. That kind, genteel Southern politeness and everything...”

“Wait, back up.” Sam set a hand on her arm. “—he and his wife aren't fully divorced?”

“I don't think so. He hasn't told me anything about it outside of a flippant comment.”

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at that. Aurora's stoic expression broke into a chuckle as well.

“Oh, my god—Aurora!” Sam burst out laughing. “The power of the Korean peninsula!”

“The Korean peninsula plus the long time proximity to Mexico,” she added. “We've inadvertently become a couple of vixens.”

“Marla, Belinda, and Zelda are, too,” Sam pointed out.

“On the surface,” Aurora corrected her, “and as far as we know. We might be in a league of our own amongst the five of us.”

“Yeah, you're kind of the quiet workhorse. And I'm the fat artist.”

“Oh, come on, Sam—you've got lovely curves. You're a true vixen yourself!”

“And the quiet ones have the most cunning minds...” Sam then set her bandaged fingers on the beads once again. “Party,” she said.

“Party!” Aurora echoed, and they high fived each other.

“Care for a drink? I just have cream soda and some pho, interestingly enough.”

“Do you have ice cream? We can have cream soda floats with that nice soup.”

“Nah, just the soda. We're gonna have plenty of cream, anyways.”

* * * * *

The heat of the summer crept its way into the Bronx, but every so often, warm summer rain kept it at bay. Sam had no intent on taking summer school with Belinda and Marla, but she did take up the offer to work side by side with Aurora at the record label as her assistant. It was mostly sorting papers and fetching her drinks during work hours, but it was something and it got her out of the otherwise hot apartment. Meanwhile, at night, she returned home and worked on some drawings before she fell asleep. The main building itself felt so empty and hollow without Anthrax there with them: she also hadn't heard a peep from Dan Lilker in months, either, and thus she assumed that Nuclear Assault had gone on tour themselves.

She thought about Cliff and she even contemplated counting down the days to the end of August. He never wrote to her once again and thus she considered writing back to him. However, since Metallica switched labels, she had no idea as to how to write to him, and given they were on tour, there was no way she could call him up in one of their many hotel rooms. Aurora had too much on her plate to begin with and so she couldn't ask her about it.

“It is a pretty big network, though,” she pointed out to her one morning in late July. “If you ask around, you could probably find a lead of sorts. Maybe you can ask Zelda.”

“Why her? 'Cause she's with Louie?”

“No, 'cause she's within the whole pipeline of musicians as well as with Louie. He especially probably knows his way around the Bay Area and she probably has an idea herself.”

Sam sighed through her nose. That would mean she would have to make the drive out to Providence to their place.

The phone rang right then and Aurora picked up. Sam kept her eyes fixated on the floor before her. She thought about as to what to draw that evening as a relief of sorts when Aurora's concerned tone of voice caught her ear.

“Wow, really? How did he do that?”

Sam turned her head into her direction and she noticed the look of concern on Aurora's face.

“Uh huh—” She raised her gaze in Sam's direction, and they gazed at one another with wide eyes.

“Oh, my god,” Aurora muttered with a look of disgust on her face. “Oh. Okay. Okay, yes—”

Sam bowed her head a bit. She wished to know what her best friend was hearing.

“Okay,” Aurora continued. “Okay, thank you. I'll tell Jon and Marsha as soon as possible.” She hung up the phone right then.

“What happened?” Sam asked her.

“James broke his arm skate boarding. They might cancel part of the tour.”

Sam gaped at her.

“W-Where are they?” she stammered.

“Nashville. And he broke his arm two days ago while in Evansville. Over in Indiana. The person I just spoke to said they might do a couple more dates and then call it good for a bit before they go to Europe.”

“So—they're not gonna come to New York City again,” Sam concluded in a small voice, to which Aurora shrugged.

“I don't think so. She said he messed it up pretty bad. He might not even be able to play guitar for a time until he's fully healed. We're gonna have to tell Marla, Belinda, and Zelda, too—you know we all were gonna be there. All of us. Altogether, with Anthrax and another band called Armored Saint...”

Sam tiled her head back and closed her eyes.

“Fuck!” she declared.

“I know, right? They already had to cancel their Northwest dates back in June, too. But—so much for that, though.” Aurora's face fell at the thought of it.

“Well, what should we do now?” Sam asked her as she ran her fingers through her dark hair.

“Well—she said they plan on playing tonight down in Nashville, followed by tomorrow's date in Chattanooga, then Knoxville, and a couple more and then they go home for a month so James can recuperate. I guess the best thing to do is to call Cliff because she said he's kind of a wreck right now.”

“I would imagine...” Sam's voice trailed off as she remembered what Cliff had told her in his letter.

Indeed, when she returned home later that night, the very first thing she did was pick up the phone. She dialed his number, but she caught his answering machine instead. If they planned on playing a few more dates, then surely he could find her message once he stepped in through the door. The very first thing he would see was her message to him.

“Hi, Cliff—it's Sam. I'm just calling to say that—I heard the news. I heard about what happened to James and I'm just kinda—thinking of you guys right now. Give me a call back once you get this. I love you.”

Without another word, she hung up the phone.

Over the next week, she went off to work with the hot summer sun upon her head and yet that big black hat protected her every step of the way. By the beginning of August, and James' birthday on the third, she expected a call from him, but he never did.

She returned home and checked her machine for any sign of him. Nothing. It seemed so unlike him, especially after all he had said to her in his letter.

A thunderstorm rattled the Bronx on the day in which they were supposed to play there in New York City, and thus Sam got the idea to write back to him. He was back home and she remembered that they would leave for Europe soon enough. She had to make it quick.

She picked up the pencil and she scribbled all along the top line of the paper first. She had no idea as to how to write up that letter to him further than “my dear Cliff.” Sam leaned back and she gazed out the window in front of her, at the rain as it pattered on the window pane before her and the dark menacing clouds across the sky. Perhaps a piece of art could bring something out of him, and yet everything she had made up to that point had been in her journals or they were things she had planned for the autumn and her sophomore year of school. Perhaps a piece of erotic art could bring something out of him, given she sat there in nothing more than her bra and a small pair of shorts that fit her hips a bit more snugly than before.

She could lay on her side before a mirror and make a drawing of herself from the reflection for him. Show off her new curves to him.

But she had nothing to say to him, much to her surprise, and yet she had so much to say to him. She set down the pencil on the tray at the bottom of her desk when the phone rang. She was quick to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Sam.” That voice.

“Oh, my god, Cliff, I was just thinking of calling you.” She ran her fingers through her dark hair.

“I've been meaning to do so but—a bunch of things have happened this past month. First off—Lars and I have rekindled things between us.”

“Oh, good!”

“The day after James broke his arm, he cozied next to me on the bus and he confessed that he wanted someone to talk to about it. I guess James is kinda pissy when he's in pain. So we watched Blazing Saddles together and had some pizza and he shared with me one of his many Danish desserts—I can't remember what it's called but it was spectacular. I told him the two of us have to hang out with him and his whole Danish spiel more in the future. And we started talking again.”

“How're things between him and them?” she asked him as she set her free hand on her hip.

“No idea and I feel like James and Kirk are still track to do it after our European dates. But—oh my god, you're gonna love this. And—I have to keep my voice down because I'm in our rehearsal spot here in San Francisco. And I dunno... I don't think they're here right now, if I'm perfectly honest. But—still. Better I keep my voice low.”

“What's up?”

“Back in June, we played in San Diego and Legacy played the night before us, so the four of us got to see them. One of the guys from Armored Saint, the band who toured with us and the boys, started to come after Lars. I didn't even know what was going on, either—it was all right behind me. But I guess Dave was there with us. And this guy was—I think he was pissed at Lars for whatever reason. And he came after him and Dave caught him, took him outside, and just beat the absolute shit out of him. Protected Lars and none of us knew it had happened until Dave told me about it after the fact.”

“Wow,” she breathed out.

“Yeah. The guys up on stage didn't even see it and Chuck and Louie see everything up there—that's according to them, anyways.”

She chuckled at that. And then she remembered.

“By the way, what did you want to do with me? Given tonight you guys were supposed to be here and you had to pull out for the time being.”

“Oh, yeah. I was gonna ask you if we could make it official between us.”

“Officially boyfriend and girlfriend,” she followed along.

“Yeah. It just makes sense to me, even if it is long distance at this point.”

“Of course. I'd love to do that.”

“Then it's official, baby doll,” he declared in a soft whisper of a voice. “You have a boyfriend now.”

Voices in the background on his end cut him off.

“I gotta go. We're flying out to Wales in a couple of days. It's a whole two week affair just so we adjust and go through customs and all that jazz.”

“Right, right...”

“Kirk needs to use the phone, too.”

“By the way, Cliff?” she piped up again.

“Uh huh?”

“Call me when you get there,” she told him.

“Of course. You have a good night for me.”

“You, too.”

They hung up at the same time right as a clap of thunder caught her off guard. If she had to draw in the dark, she would.

And she was eager to start school again within a couple of weeks as well, and once again, the week following Labor Day. Fresh off the heels of her first year, she wished to see what that second year held for her given the cuts on her fingers had long healed and Belinda vowed that the next level up would be far more exciting. She already knew the basics and thus she could foresee a stained glass window much like the ones in that front hallway from her hung up there for the whole school and the world to see.

A drawing class, a watercolor class, stained glass, more art history, and algebra, the latter of which she needed to fill in one of her elective credits. That was according to Bill when she signed up for classes.

“Gonna be a lot more hectic this year,” he vowed to her with a cunning smile on his face, but she knew she would enjoy it especially when she knew she also kept the part time shift next to Aurora. Just a lot more to do but she knew she would enjoy it.

She stayed on her feet for the entirety of both of her drawing and watercolor classes and the whole entire first week, she envisioned Metallica, Anthrax, and Armored Saint in that concert hall in Wales. She tried to picture them all as she sketched out a series of faces similar to them on that large sheet of paper she had been asked to have for the former. Given part of their personal journal included wildlife studies, Marla suggested she draw plants around them given it was the United Kingdom, in all of its greenery and lushness. Sam also recalled that they had missed playing the Pacific Northwest as well.

Given the drawing itself was due at the end of the month, she gradually worked on it with a bit of colored pencil and only the hardest of her graphite pencils. She thought of giving it a splash of watercolor at some point, but she decided not to do it.

And she still hadn't shown Cliff the drawing of him. She itched to show it to him once she handed that large drawing by the end of that third week of school. She strode out of the classroom and up the street so as to start her short shift for the rest of that afternoon. It was a cool late autumn afternoon, and the gray clouds overhead beckoned a fresh round of rain. But when she reached the front step, she was met with Aurora herself, who looked as though she had seen a ghost.

“Um, Sam?” Aurora called to her once she came within earshot.

“Yeah?” She frowned at the grave look on her friend's face, and she glanced behind her, and there was Marla right behind her, who had one hand on her mouth as if she had something horrific.

“Is everything okay?” Sam asked them as she adjusted the brim of the hat: she picked up that earthy smell of rain. Marla fetched up a sigh and she doubled back for something. Sam halted in front of Aurora and butterflies emerged inside of her stomach.

“What's going on?” she asked her in a small voice, and Aurora's face fell. She swallowed and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Marla returned with a white cordless phone in hand.

“Something happened,” she replied in an equally small voice. “Something that you should know.”

She handed her the cordless with a solemn look on her face. Reluctant, Sam took the phone and then she brought it to her ear and the butterflies in her stomch kept on whirring about.

“Hello?” she started in a low voice.

“Sam!” Lars' voice crackled onto the other end. “Sam! Horrible! Things! Really bad things! Fucking—fucking hell!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam interjected with a wave of her hand, “whoa, Lars. Lars, slow down! What happened?”

He sputtered and blithered a serious of things in Danish but then he gasped.

“Lars!” Sam cried out, and she held still right there when she was met with silence. “Lars? Are you there?”

“—yes?” he said in a broken voice.

“What happened?”

He let out a long low sigh.

“What happened?”

“I'm sorry,” he started and she could hear tears in his voice, “I just—I haven't been able to talk to James and Kirk about it. I needed someone to vent to.”

“What happened, Lars?” she asked him, gentle.

“There—There was an accident,” he sputtered. “A bus accident. Our bus went off the road—we were in Sweden. In the middle of the night. We were all asleep when it went off the road. We rolled over. Cliff—is gone.”

Sam's eyes widened and she almost dropped the phone itself. It was as if the rug had been yanked right out from right underneath her.

“What do you mean he's gone?” she asked him as she felt her stomach and her heart sink.

“He's gone. He was—crushed by the bus.”

Her stomach turned. Her knees quivered and quaked. She had to catch herself on the counter behind her. She thought about the letter Cliff had written to her. His words were set in stone at that moment. He never even called her when they got to Wales, either.

Lars' voice quivered and waved away with tears. The smell of rain grew stronger and Aurora stepped inside; Sam could make out the tears in her eyes.

“He's gone, Sam. He's—He's just—he's gone.”

[aerynwrites]

The Hidden (5)

Chapter 5: Not Alone

The Mandalorian x Reader

Author’s Note: Y’all this one is a DOOZY. I think is the longest thing I have ever posted on this blog. so yay me! Also, I should 100% be studying for my finals but this freaking man, and this story has been on my mind all day and I could not focus. So, let’s hope I don’t fail these finals and if I do then I can totally blame the Mandalorian right? Right? Anyway, let me know what y’all think, feedback is encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you all for all the support this far! <3

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: brief mentions of nudity, violence, and death.

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five (Here), Six, Seven, Eight

//

You woke with a start, the images that plagued your sleep dissipating as you awoke, leaving you with nothing but a thin sheet of sweat covering your body and an ache between your thighs.

You tried to steady your erratic breathing and calm your flushed face. The images from the dream still danced across your mind in flashes of tanned skin, warm hands and whispery breaths. You let out a shaky sigh as you swung your legs over the side of the hammock and sat up, hyper aware of the thin tank top sticking to your still damp skin.

“Sleep well?”

You startled at the modulated voice and whip your head to face the sound. You are met with none other than the very man that plagued your sleep as he fiddled with the armor on his arms, head tilted in a curious manner. You felt a blush creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. Had he heard you? You silently prayed to the maker that you weren’t obvious in your unconscious state.

You inhaled deeply, running a hand through your sweat damp hair, “I-uhm, yeah I slept good. You?”

There was a slight pause before he spoke, “Surprisingly yes,” you sighed in silent relief. He hadn’t heard you.

“Until your restlessness woke me up.” He stated, a teasing hint in his voice.

Well shit.

If your face wasn’t on fire before it certainly was now. You stood quickly and stumbled slightly as you grabbed your cloak from the floor along with a small towel. “I’m sorry- I uhm,” you stuttered as you walked towards the exit desperate to distance yourself from the awkward situation, “I’m going to go get some air really quick.” You mutter, pushing past the curtain and out the door.

Dyn watched you leave, a smirk sliding onto his face under the helmet at your embarrassed state. He had heard. Of course, he had, you were only five feet apart from one another and his bounty hunter days made him a light sleeper. And surprisingly, he wasn’t upset by what had happened, or embarrassed. As confusing as it was to him, he felt himself growing attached to you, and the fact that you had obviously dreamed about him (if your nickname for him being called several times didn’t give it away), had him yearning for more.

More what? He asked himself.

Besides the obvious physical aspect, he didn’t know yet. He had only known you for a week at most, and still he felt this indescribable pull towards you, a force, if you will. He felt the need to be near you, talk to you, protect you, even though he knew you didn’t need his protection, he was baffled by these new developments. He let out a low sigh and looked around the small hut, quickly spotting the child waddling from the back room gurgling lightly. As he moved towards the kid and picked him up, he felt the bandages around his torso shift slightly and hissed. He lifted up the bottom of his shirt and saw a small amount of blood peaking through the white gauze. He dropped his shirt and held the kid up in front of his face gently.

“I think some washing up is in order, what do you think?” he asked rhetorically.

The kid just giggled and reached out tiny hands to grasp for the Mandalorian.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

He tucked the child in the crook of his arm and left the building to inquire about a bathing area.

//

You lightly smacked yourself in the forehead as you approached a small river nearby the village.

“stupid, stupid, stupid,” you chastised, “He probably hates me and never wants to talk to me again,” you say to yourself as you drop your items on a nearby patch of grass.

You sit down and start to take off your shoes followed by the rest of your clothing and set them neatly in a pile a few feet from the bank. You grabbed the soap you managed to snatch before you sped out of your house and waded into the river, sighing as the cool water encased you. After the skirmish with the beasts and the consequent cleanup, you felt absolutely disgusting, so you felt a refresh was in order. You gently started to scrub the dirt and grime from your body as your mind wandered back to this morning and last nights events.

It was now clearly obvious the feelings you harbored for your armored guest, but you were still unsure of exactly why you felt these things. At first you wanted to brush them off as simple and natural feelings stemming from not being with anyone in that way for a long time. But you knew it was deeper than that. You dunked your head under the water to get your hair wet before emerging and scrubbing at your hair angrily with the soap. You were frustrated. Frustrated that you were feeling these things. Frustrated that you couldn’t control them. And frustrated at that stupid helmet and that stupid bounty hunter never seemed to leave your thoughts. Yet the connection you felt for him was stronger than any frustration you felt. You could feel a yearning tugging at your heart when you saw him interact with the child, a warmth when he spoke to you and an ineffable feeling to want to see him – to know him, the real him. Not the mask you are so used to. Who was he beneath the helmet?

You let out a sigh at the still unanswered question that tormented your mind. You dunked your head underwater to rinse out the suds, the sound of rushing water covering up the sound of an approaching intruder.

Dyn had not intended on following you or sneaking up on you for that matter. He just followed the directions that one of the villagers gave him to the local bathing spot and was not prepared to for what he saw. The neat pile of familiar clothing should have keyed him into the situation but, before he realized who’s clothing it was, he was already at the rivers clearing and frozen by the sight before him. You had risen from the water, thankfully (or not so thankfully), facing the other direction as you wrung out your soaked hair. Dyn couldn’t help himself as he studied your form, eyes trailing over every dip and curve, admiring in silence your beautiful yet powerful build. he could practically feel the suppleness of your skin under his fingertips despite never having touched you before. As his eyes continued to roam your body, he took note of the large jagged scar that traveled from your left hip up to your right shoulder blade and felt a small tug of rage at whomever had caused it. However, his thoughts were cut short as you turned around slowly, leaving nothing to his imagination anymore, to exit the river and your eyes landed on his figure at the edge of the clearing.

On instinct you dropped into the water, covering whatever dignity you had left, and gasped loudly.

“Mando! What the kriff are you doing?” you screech.

“I-uhm-“ he quickly whipped around to face the other direction and reluctantly removed his gaze from you, “I was just following directions from another villager, I didn’t know-“ he stopped to steady his breathing slightly, “I had no idea you were here.”

You could hear the earnestness in his voice, but still your face flushed for what felt like the millionth time this morning.

“Well stay turned around, I would like to keep some of my dignity and I really don’t need the kid seeing all I have to offer either.” You tease.

You climb out of the water and shove down the thought of ‘if he didn’t have the kid, I would have invited him in’ as you approach your clothing. You quickly and haphazardly dry off and throw your clothes on before brushing past the Mandalorian tossing the soap bar in his direction.

“You might need this,” he fumbles to catch the slippery bar with one hand but manages to do so and watches your figure retreat back to the village.

“Stop staring Mando!” you call out over your shoulder.

He quickly averts his eyes and turns to face the river and repeat the process you just finished. He sets the kid down on the ground and finds small round nut on the ground and hands it to the child before ushering him behind a near by tree. The kid is instantly entranced by the small object and begins playing with it as Mando walks down to the river and begins removing his armor. The vision of your unclothed form and question of the origin of the scar plaguing his mind.

//

When you return to the village all you want to do is crawl into a hole and die, mortified at the seemingly endless chain of humiliating events this morning. By the time you reach your home, change into clean clothes and tidy up, it’s around early afternoon.

“Hey (Y/N)!” your friend Ariah excitedly greets you as you exit the building.

“Hey! What’s got you so excited?” you ask amusedly, not used to seeing the woman so hyped up.

She grasps your shoulders and bounces on the balls of her feet, “We’re having a party! To celebrate our victory the other night. We haven’t had a party in ages.”

You raise your eyebrows at the news, “A party? I can’t even remember the last time we had one of those that wasn’t for the local solstice.”

Every year your village and the other tribes around the area held a large celebration to celebrate the summer solstice. It came with bonfires, eating, drinking, and a lot of dancing. Something that while rare, you looked forward too.

Ariah nods excitedly, “Right? It’s going to be so fun, and we can actually just relax now that we don’t have to worry about those beasts.” You see her glance over your shoulder, “All thanks to you and him.”

You follow her gaze to see Mando had returned and was watching from a distance as the children played with the child, rolling a small ball to and fro. He seemed to sense your gaze and looked over to you, well you assumed he was looking at you. You quickly looked away as he started to walk towards you, leaving the kid with the other children.

Ariah gives you a knowing look before squeezing your hands gently, “I’ll see you tonight (Y/N)! you too Mando!” she calls over her shoulder as she retreats.

“What was that?” you hear his modulated voice ask.

You shrug and turn to walk back into your house, the Mandalorian following you, “We’re having a celebration tonight,” you walk over and sit on your hammock, swinging slightly, “To celebrate the defeat of the Chroigs. And you.”

“Me?” you could hear the disbelief in his voice.

You smiled and chuckled, “Yes, you. Without you and your idea those animals would still be out there.”

“You all did most of the work,” he defended.

You rolled your eyes, “Just take the compliment Mando, and enjoy the party tonight.”

He didn’t respond to you and a comfortable silence filled the air as you rocked in your hammock and Mando gazed out the nearby window at the playing children.

“How did you get that scar?”

The question startled you, and for a moment you were confused. Until you  saw him looking directly at you and realized that he was referring to the scar he no doubt saw this morning. You didn’t answer right away, not sure if you wanted to dredge up the past you so desperately tried to keep hidden. But you sighed and stood, moving to the very window he was looking out of, and watched the children play gently with the small green child.

“I was about their age,” you started gently, “My parents and I were out at the market on my home plant, shopping for my birthday actually,” You had barely started and yet you felt a lump forming in the back of your throat, “When out of nowhere the streets were flooded with storm troopers and empire soldiers.”

You heard the Mandalorian come to join you at the window, his cool beskar armor brushing your arm slightly, a small comfort to you in that moment. You continued.

“Blasters start firing and my parents are screaming, my mother picked me up and ran through the chaos to try and get me to safety. I saw my dad running after us but then the next thing I know a red bolt of light hit him in the back and he was gone,” I feel a tear slip from my eyes and wipe it away quickly, “I didn’t know it in that moment, but they were there for me. A man in all black with, what I now know to be a light saber, followed my mother and I. She turned to fight, to save me, but she couldn’t win, not against him. So, I ran. But I couldn’t outrun him either.” At this I pulled up my shirt slightly revealing my scar once more, “He slashed me across the back, and I fell, he must have assumed I was dead because next thing I know I’m waking up in the destroyed market. Alone.”

I finish my story and wipe at my eyes once more, trying to wipe the wet signs emotion from my face.

“Sorry it’s not some heroic battle story,” I let out a dry chuckle, trying to lighten the mood and also forget once more.

But Mando wasn’t done.

“Why did the empire want you? You were just a child.” His voice was full of malice, and what sounded like a sense of understanding.

“I can do things,” you say, still not sure if you want to reveal this secret, a secret only you have known for the majority of your life.

Mando turns to face you, “What kinds of things? What could possibly make the empire hunt you down?”

“I can use the force,” you finally spit out, the secret finally out in the open.

You’re ready for judgement, or fear, the same fear that was in your parent’s eyes when they saw you lift a ball without touching it. The fear of the unknown.

But you’re only met with a head tilt of confusion from the bounty hunter, clearly not understanding what you were on about. You can understand, you didn’t know what it was either until you came across story books in your travels, one’s of people known as the Jedi able to move things with their minds and even control others. Over the years you had learned to hone your abilities but every time you used them the memory of that horrible day filled your mind, and the fear of being found once more scared you into hiding. So, you stopped. You quit using your powers, kept them secret from anyone but yourself. So, to be telling this to the man in front of you, a bounty hunter no less, was terrifying. You explained, as simply as you could, what the force was to the Mandalorian and paused once you were done, looking up at him worriedly.

“You see why I don’t tell anyone? I sound crazy, and stupid, and- “you are cut short as he strides out of your home, cape fluttering behind him.

Your heart drops into your stomach, a sense of dread weighing heavy on your limbs. He was going to tell someone. He was going to tell the whole village and you were going to be forced to leave. Or he was going to leave and tell someone about your whereabouts. All of these thoughts were flying through your mind that you had spaced out and gasped when the Mandalorian burst into your home once more this time holding the child. He set the child down on the counter carefully before picking up a stray bowl and held it out to you.

“Can you do it to this? In front of the kid?” he asked hurriedly.

You looked at him quizzically, “Of course I can do it with a bowl. Mando what is this about?” His actions were very out of character.

“Will you do it? Please?” he almost begged.

You hesitated, not having used your powers in front if anyone since you were a child but reached your hand out slightly. You felt the force latch onto the bowl and Mando withdrew his hand leaving the bowl suspended in midair, the only thing keeping it in place was you. You watched as the child’s wide eyes looked from you to the bowl in front of him, seemingly mesmerized by the action. You looked over to Mando, about to speak up, confused about the point of this all when you felt it. A connection. You looked back to the child and saw his little hand extended towards the bowl, eyes squinted in concentration. Realization dawned on you; this little child was like you. You released the bowl from your force grip and brought your hands to your mouth, a shocked sound slipping past your lips as it stayed suspended. However, the bowl soon fell to the ground and shattered as the kid slumped back in exhaustion. With your hands still over your mouth, you look from the small child then over to Mando who was stood stock still.

You dropped your hands from your mouth and let out an excited gasp, “Oh my stars!” you turned to Mando, who still hadn’t moved and instinctively threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I thought I was alone!” you admitted, “This whole time. But he’s here! And –“ you realized you were still clinging to the bounty hunter and stepped away slightly, another realization dawning on you, “That’s why you’re here. Someone is after him.” You look back to the brown bundle who seemed to be sleeping peacefully on the countertop, exhausted.

All Mando could do was nod, he couldn’t make his mouth form words. All of this information was too much for him. The kid, you, the fact that you both could do these things, posessed these powers. Then his mind went back to your story and he felt his heart constrict. You didn’t deserve this.

“I’m sorry.” He eventually whispered.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, what was he sorry about?

“What you went through,” he clarified, “and asking. I had no right.”

You shook your head and stepped forward eyes not meeting his and placed a gentle hand on his arm, “I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t want to. Plus- “you looked up to him, “It felt…nice to finally open up. Tell someone about everything,” you admitted.

“My parents were killed too,” be confessed, catching you by surprise, “I was a child, like you, when droids attacked my village. My parents hid me in a hatch in the ground, but they didn’t make it,” you can hear his voice shake slightly and your eyes soften, you squeeze his arm comfortingly and he continues, “The Mandalorians found me, raised me, and that’s how I ended up doing what I did, how I ended up here.”

You smile sadly and bring the tall man into a hug; he hesitates shortly before wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. You sigh contentedly as you rest your cheek against his chest plate, the cool metal a comfort to your warm skin.

You weren’t alone after all.

[brywrites]

Night Changes | 2K Celebration

As part of my 2K follower celebration, if you send me a character or pairing and a song, I’ll write a ficlet (roughly 1000 words) based on it. For every song requested, I’ll also do a bonus ficlet so you’ll get double the stories! Requested: Bianca and Reid from The Keeping of Words & “Night Changes” by One Direction. ---

“Garcia is throwing a big party tonight,” he says as they stroll past the Reflecting Pool. “For the summer solstice. It’s a little last minute since we weren’t sure whether we would have a case, but the whole team will be there, plus a few of her other friends.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Bianca says. “I didn’t know people threw solstice parties.”

“Well, Garcia has a celebration for everything,” Reid laughs. “Although celebrations for the longest day of the year have been in place for centuries. In Europe, bonfires, flowers, and festivals mark the Midsummer. In China, it’s the day of the Dragon Boat Festival, and Ireland it’s designated as the Day of Private Reflection. And in fact, for the Southern hemisphere, the summer solstice typically coincides with Christmas celebrations. But I’m getting off topic,” he says. He doesn’t want to lecture her on the history of solstice festivities. He wants to take another step towards that invisible line they’ve been toeing for weeks since she fell asleep on his couch and he went to talk to Hotch. “Actually, Garcia told us all we should bring a plus one and I was kind of hoping that maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Bianca stops walking. He immediately backtracks. “If you’re not busy, of course! I mean, she always says that and usually I would just go by myself but I was thinking that it would be more if you were there. Everything’s better when you’re around. But of course I know it’s short notice and you might have plans already so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. But if you want to come, I would be happy to drive.”

It used to be so easy, moments like this. They went everywhere together. By her side was where he felt most at home. After leaving, after Maeve, after everything changed, he’s still finding his way back to the meaning of that word. But this, he supposes, is a good place to start. Testing the waters. Inviting her to go somewhere with him, with his friends who were her friends once, too.

To his relief, she smiles. “I’d like that.” He picks her up at eight. She stands outside her building in a red wrap dress that flutters in the warm breeze the way his heart does when she smiles at him. She slides into the passenger seat and for a moment it’s like no time has passed and neither of their hearts have ever been broken.

As they drive to Garcia’s apartment, all his doubts that this might be a mistake are erased because she’s laughing with him and it all does feel so easy. They arrive at the party where she is almost instantly accosted first by Garcia and then by Morgan who have a million questions to ask her.

“So that’s Bianca, right?” Alex asks. Her sudden presence startles him briefly, but he quickly settles. Blake has always soothed him for reasons he can’t quite put a name to.

“Yes,” Reid says, smiling as he watches her talking to Garcia. The evening light shines in her eyes and the faintest blush colors her cheeks and she’s so lovely. When he turns to Blake, the smirk playing at the corner of her mouth makes it clear that he wears that thought plainly on his features. He’s been falling for her all this time, and he can’t deny it any longer, though he can’t bear to admit it to her yet. Still, when she returns to his side, he feels more at ease even surrounded by the people he knows best in this world.

She stands a little too close to him as they look up at the quickly darkening twilight, the earliest stars blinking into view. “It’s a shame everything changes at night, when most of the world is asleep,” she says. “The calendar turns over and the days start getting shorter and we won’t even be awake to witness it.” She sighs and takes a sip of the cocktail in her hand and he lets his elbow brush against hers for just a moment. “Everything changes so fast. You wake up, and the world is different.”

There is a strange longing in her voice. It pulls on his heartstrings because he feels it too, this yearning from something slipping past his fingers. He’s so afraid that it’s all changing so suddenly and he can’t seem to hold on tight enough. He can’t hold everything, after all. Reaching out to her means letting to of Maeve, but holding fast to Maeve means losing Bianca. He can’t have it all. But she looks at him and that red dress and those freckles across her nose pull him in and he knows that if he lets her slip away he’ll regret it for the rest of his life.

“I think about it too sometimes,” he admits. “Maybe everything does change. A lot has changed this year. But there are some things that stay the same. Garcia is always going to throw the best parties. Gravity will always remain constant. The Bureau is never going to give us enough time off. Night changes into day so fast. But it doesn’t scare me so much anymore. I’m still going to be me. And you’re still going to be you. And if there’s anything I’ve learned through all these changes it’s that I’m always going to be grateful that you’re in my life.” Reid tries to take a steady breath in, to make the words sound casual without glossing over them. “I’m always going to care about you. And I’m always going to want you around. That’s never going to change.”

Bianca stares at him and he doesn’t dare move under her gaze lest a single microexpression give him away. Then she smiles. “I’m glad you’re in my life, too,” she tells him. “You’re one of my favorite people on the planet. And that’s never going to change. We’re never going to change.” It’s a declaration if he’s ever heard one. A promise that allows him to cling to just the tiniest bit of hope, however irrational he knows it to be, that maybe she understands just what he means when he says he cares about her. And maybe she feels the same way.

Day turns to night. Summer begins its slow slip into fall. But he hopes against hope that when the seasons turn again, she’ll still be by his side. Reid knows now that no matter what else changes, what he feels for her never will, so he swallows all the words it’s too soon to say and tells himself that to love her is enough.

[lynelovespopculture]

THE  CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 14-A SPELLMAN FAMILY SOLSTICE

 Faustus and Zelda had a long recovery in front of them.  Faustus had only awakened 1 hour before his wife so they were healing at the same time. They both were assigned to complete bed rest for the next 3 weeks. In that time, they rested, snuggled together, and watched the defeat of Blackwood video numerous times. They both agreed that there was no foolproof way to get rid of Blackwood forever; they had to just keep their guard up and hope for the best. Zelda also told Faustus how Lilith had reclaimed hell for herself and found happiness with a new Adam. After the 3 weeks of bed rest, Faustus and Zelda were up and around and just in time to help celebrate Sabrina’s 18th birthday. (Since this was Sabrina’s last year at home before college, new rules were set. Thursday nights were family dinner night, absolutely no excuses for not attending, and Sunday was family movie night.)

Later that week, Faustus and Zelda managed to find some time to sit down with just the twins to have a serious talk about the adoption. Zelda explained that this adoption was less about guardianship, as the twins were almost 17, but more of a show of commitment to be their mother. Zelda nodded with understanding when they told her that they wanted time to think about it. Yet, there was 1 issue that the male twin didn’t need to think about at all. Just like his sister, Judas wanted to forget about his life with Blackwood. Soon enough, he confessed that he hated the name of Judas, so with his parents’ full support, changed his name to Jacob.  It wasn’t long at all until he was used to the family calling him Jake. 3 days later, Faustus took Zelda for a romantic dinner in the fanciest restaurant in town. As they clinked their wine glasses together, Faustus explained that it was the 1st anniversary of him being free from the curse. Hearing this, Zelda re-clinked the glasses.

“To the first of many, many years,” She smiled.

They went home, and make wild, passionate love before drifting off in each other’s arms. Late that night, Zelda turned around and found herself alone in bed. She caught Faustus at the entrance of the attic, which Ambrose and Jake now shared.

“I still can’t believe we’re all home now,” Faustus whispered as his wife linked her arm with his. With a kiss, Zelda led him back to their room, where they made love for the 2nd time that night.

  Their 1st solstice all together as a family was a very special one. LJ and Jake were both all smiles as together, they handed Zelda a gift. After wrapping it, Zelda gasped, for the box was filled with papers, but not just any papers. On top were the half-filled adoption papers and beneath that, were papers for legal name changes. The twins explained that not only did they want to be adopted but they were also ready to become Spellmans. All the family couldn’t agree fast enough. Zelda did a pretty good job of blinking back her tears of joy, or she did, right up until the twins called her ‘mom’ for the very 1st time. This happened right after Zelda gave LJ and Jake their Yule present. A thick photo album filled with pictures of their birth mother, Constance, at every stage of life so the twins could look at it whenever they wished.

In the new year, after Hilda and Dr. C celebrated their 1st anniversary and Zelda filed the paperwork for the twins’ adoption and name changes, plans went full steam ahead for LJ and Jake’s joint dark baptism. Jake kept it simple, by picking Jacob Faustus for his baptismal name. LJ’s was longer. LJ explained that her name was to be Letitia Judith Constance Zelda.

“To honor both my mothers.” LJ smiled and Zelda kissed the girl on the head, blinking back happy tears once more.

The baptism, attended by family and coven alike, went off without a hitch. For the next few months, the Spellmans’ lives were blissfully quiet and uneventful. Their lives revolved around work, school, and most importantly, each other. On April 2nd, the whole family gathered to celebrate Cordelia’s first birthday. They threw a party, of course, with cake and gifts but it was Faustus and Zelda who got the best present that day. It was later that night after they readied Cordelia for bed, they sat Cordelia down in front of her crib as they did for the last 3 weeks. It was normal when Cordelia pulled herself up to the crib with her tiny hands but then something new happened. Cordelia took her hands off the crib and took her 1st few unsteady steps towards Zelda. She playfully touched her mother’s cheek before saying her 1st word loud and clear. “Mommy!” After kissing her daughter silly, Zelda turned Cordelia around so she could walk to Faustus. The baby took 3 steps before she stumbled on the 4th and would have fallen but Faustus managed to catch her. He was rewarded with a giant smile. “Daddy!”

 Spring and summer flew by and before anyone knew it, it was September again. Everyone came out to see Sabrina and LJ, who graduated a year early, off to college. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. When she was 3 and big enough for a big girl bed, Cordelia was given Sabrina’s room by her still at college cousin. The following year, Hilda, Faustus, and Sabrina convinced an uneasy Zelda to allow Cordelia to attend mortal kindergarten, just like Sabrina before her. Cordelia’s parents sat her down and explained to her not to talk about witches or use magic at school. They also kept their promise to the witch’s council, to keep them updated on Cordelia’s magical development. Yet, there was little to report. The baby who cried the devil out of the house was growing up as normally as any other little witch, except for a slammed door or a few floating items. Her powers were at their strongest when her emotions were at their peak.  One afternoon, Cordelia wanted to play outside but Hilda explained she couldn’t because it was raining, hard.

“I don’t want it to rain!” As soon as Cordelia stamped her foot, the sun came out. Hilda stared wordlessly, yet Cordelia didn’t even seem to notice. It was on the 1st day of school that Cordelia met Erin, Emily, and Erica Warner, mortal triplet girls who quickly became her BFFs. Meanwhile, with his youngest now in school, Faustus was feeling a little lost.  Ambrose and Jake formed the perfect team to run the funeral home together and the rest of the family were busy with their own thing. 1 night, Zelda suggested her husband should return to teaching. Zelda knew she got through to him and was waiting for Faustus to ask her to return to the academy. So, she was shocked when he told her he gotten a job at Greendale middle school, teaching 7th grade. Theo Putnam was also a new teacher.

 It was a cold night in the late December of Cordelia’s sixth year that the child awoke with a start.

“Who’s there?” She demanded with the greatest demand she could mutter as she sat up and looked around the darkened room. She looked around and saw nothing, yet she felt someone was nearby. Cordelia sighed, this wasn’t a new feeling. She pulled back her blankets and got up. Might as well go to the bathroom while I’m awake. She thought.

“Hey, Salem.” Cordelia petted Sabrina’s familiar on her way back to bed. Then she picked up her favorite doll, tucked it under her arm, sighed as she laid down, and closed her eyes.

 The next thing she knew, sunlight tickled at Cordelia’s eyelids. 1 quick look at the clock and she jolted out of bed and down the hallway. Her own school had let out for Christmas yesterday, but the academy was a year-round boarding school that demanded much of its headmistress. Cordelia felt that she spent less than 10 minutes with her mother all week. Maybe it was still early enough to catch her. She stopped short in her parents’ doorway. Not only was no one in here, but the bed was made and everything was neat, suggesting that both her parents left long ago.

“It's not even 9 yet! Well, so much for that idea.” Cordelia muttered as she headed for the steps. Downstairs, Cordelia found her brother fluttering back and forth before the front door as if he was preparing to go out. “Where’re you going, Jake?” she asked from the stairway.

Jake looked up, pausing as he put on his coat. “Good morning, Cordy. Mom just called, she needs someone to fill in for her with the choir ASAP.”

“Mom’s already at the school?”

Unfortunately, Jake was too busy to notice the sadness in his sister’s tone. “Yeah. Bye.”

Cordelia was left to frown at the closed door when the wonderful smells finally reached her nose. Those smells only appeared when someone special visited. Now wearing a tiny smile, the 6-year-old ran into the kitchen and hugged the visitor from behind. “Hi, auntie H!”

Hilda, who was baking, half-turned and gave her niece a 1 arm hug. “Hello, darling.”

From his stool 3 feet away, Ambrose waved. “Hello, cousin.”

“Hello, another Spellman who no longer lives here.” Cordelia teased good-naturedly and Ambrose laughed. He and Prudence had only moved into a small apartment together downtown 3 months ago.

Meanwhile, Hilda wiped her hands on a towel. “It’s cereal alright for breakfast?”

Cordelia smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“So, Cordy, how did you sleep?” Asked Ambrose.

“Good! For the most part.”

Ambrose and Hilda exchanged a look. “For the most part?” repeated her aunt.

“Ghostbusting again, cuz?”

Cordelia gave Ambrose an annoyed sideways glance. “No, Ambrose. Ghostbusting would imply that I actually see the spirit.”

Ambrose was now confused. “Wait, you don’t see the ghosts? Ever? But you had this problem for a while.”

“Since before feasts of feasts as I recall,” Hilda added.

“I don’t understand. If you can’t see them, how do you know they’re ghosts?”

Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know, it’s just a feeling. Most girls my age are scared of ghosts; I just want them to make up their minds! They should show themselves, tell me what the problem is so I can help or just let me be so I can sleep at night.”

Hilda and Ambrose both had nothing to say so they just stared at the girl. Cordelia sighed, what was needed now was a change of subject and she found it on the serving tray. “Who pops popcorn this early in the morning?”

Ambrose sprang to life. “Oh, I almost forgot!  I was supposed to bring out the cranberries and popcorn to Dr. C and Uncle Faustus. They finally setting up the Yule tree!” Ambrose grabbed the tray and rushed out of the kitchen.

“Well, I got to go too,” Cordelia announced.

“Why?” Asked Hilda.

“Because my bowl of cereal was on that tray!”

Hilda laughed, shook her head, and returned to her baking.

 “I swear, we get this tree up later and later every year.” Faustus sighed.

“Well, we’re busy men,” Dr. C assured him. “Me at my bookstore, you at the middle school. Here comes Ambrose, at last.”

Faustus smiled as the younger warlock rushed in. “We were beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”

“I’m so sorry that it took me so long,” Ambrose said.  “Aunt Hilda and I got to talking and then Cordelia walked in.”

“Oh? Cordy’s up?”

“I sure am!” The child was right on Ambrose’s heels. She was closer to Dr. C so she greeted him first. “Hi, Uncle C” She hugged him and then went over to her father. “Hi, Daddy” she giggled when Faustus kissed the cheek of his youngest child. The 2 men went back to trying to steady the tree, as Ambrose found a chair and began to thread the popcorn and cranberry strings together. After reclaiming her breakfast, at last, Cordelia sat on the sofa and asked about the only thing on her mind.

“How long ago did Mom leave for the academy this morning?”

“About an hour and a half to 2 hours ago” Faustus answered casually. “Why? Do you need her?”

Cordelia frowned. “No, I don’t need her per say, but I do miss her. It’s like I barely have seen her this week.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Faustus soothed his daughter. “While it’s true that Solstice demands more of the high priestess’s time than normal, all she has to do is get through today and perform tomorrow’s midnight mass then Zelda will be free to spend the rest of the holidays with us.”

“Don’t forget when we go get the girls tomorrow.” Dr. C added. “Zelda would never miss that.”

Although both LJ and Sabrina left for college 6 years ago, the girls were still away for their education but for different reasons. Unlike Jake, who left a year after his sister and cousin and return 2 years later, business degree in hand. Poor Sabrina was having a tough time, having changed her major 3 times. On the flip side, LJ had not only completed university in record time but was enrolled in 2 different medical schools. When done, LJ would not only be 1 of the few female witch doctors, she would also be the 1st witch doctor trained in mortal medicine. With a sister on her way to glory and her mother already in the history books as the 1st high priestess, Cordelia was extremely proud of her family and sometimes wondered if greatness lay in her future as well.  Having finished her breakfast, Cordelia now lay the now-empty bowl on the coffee table and went to the old cardboard box that held the tree decorations.  After a few seconds of digging around, Cordelia was able to her favorite one. It was a diamond full moon on 1 side and the other side was a picture frame. The picture itself was taken on her 1st solstice. It was of Zelda, Faustus, and Cordelia herself, when she was still just a baby. While Cordelia stood admiring the photo, Dr. C lost his balance on the step stool and bump into the girl, causing her to lose her grip on the glass moon and it smashed on the floor.

Dr. C rushed to the child’s side. “Oh Cordelia, I’m so sorry!” He hugged her.

Cordelia put on a brave face. “It’s okay, uncle C. We have lots of others.”

As they spoke, the fragments of the glass moon float up in the air and magically fixed itself.

“But this 1 is your favorite,” Faustus held it in the palm of his hand. “I know because it’s my favorite too.”

Cordelia smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Putting up the tree nearly took all day. Cordelia was excused because right after lunch, the Warner triplets called their friend to come with them to go to the mall to see Santa. Cordelia was gone all afternoon and returned just in time for dinner yet her mood seemed to change. She was quiet and seemed angry. At first, Hilda thought her niece was annoyed because Zelda called to say that she was too busy to come home for dinner.  Then, in the middle of supper, Jake knocked over a glass of water. On the other side of the table, his baby sister jumped up in horror.

“You should be more careful!” She shouted before she ran out of the room. Faustus and Hilda found Cordelia in her room pacing back and forth before her bed. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!” She muttered to herself.

“Cordy? What’s wrong?” Faustus asked.

His daughter looked up, frowning. “You should have told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“THAT OUR KIND CAN MELT!!”  Cordelia shouted.

Faustus and Hilda exchanged a confused look. “Cordelia, love,” Hilda said gently, “what exactly did you and your friends do this afternoon?”

Cordelia sighed. “After the trip to the mall to see Santa, Mr. Warner invited me back to their house for hot chocolate and it was there that Erin, Emily, Erica, and I watched a movie.”

“What movie?” Her father asked.

“The Wizard of Oz.”

Both Faustus and Hilda felt instant relief. Hilda left to go inside the bathroom while Faustus took his daughter by the hand, guided her to the bed, so they could both sit down.

“Darling, while it’s true the mortals have short lives, while we witches can live for centuries and centuries. Surely, we can’t live that long if we are in danger of something as common as water.”

“But in the movie-“

“The movie is not real. It’s pretend, make-believe. You remember when you, Mommy, and I had our talk about make-believe?”

Cordelia nodded. “I remember, but it’s so confusing! After all, mortal parents tell their children that witches are make-believe.”

Faustus nodded. “That’s true but I can prove I’m right! Think back to every mass you attended, all the times Zelda took you with her to the academy, have you ever, after all that time with the coven, even seen a green witch?”

“No. Hey, wait  a second, I didn’t tell you that the witch was green! How did you know?”

Faustus laughed. “The Wizard of Oz is a very famous movie and you’re not the 1st witch to get spooked by water after seeing it. I guess you could call it a witch childhood rite of passage by now.”

“Your father’s right,” said Hilda, coming toward the bed, glass in 1 hand. “When your cousin Sabrina saw that movie, she reacted the exact same way you did. That’s when Zelds and I came up with the test.”

“Test? What kind of test?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.” When Cordelia didn’t move and kept staring at the glass, Hilda tried again. “What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?”

This softened Cordelia immediately. “Of course I do, Auntie H.” The child got off the bed and came forward and Hilda knelt down to look her niece in the eye. “Now just give me 1 of your fingers.” Cordelia offered up a finger. Hilda took it and put the tip of the finger just under.  “Now, how does that feel?”

“Wet.” Was the child’s only reply.

Hilda laughed. “Yes, it’s wet, but what else? Does your finger feel like it is going to fall off or melt?”

Cordelia smiled and shook her head.  Hilda smiled. “Good, the test has worked in our favor yet again.”

“Thank Hecate!” Faustus added. “Can you imagine how foul our world would be if none of us would be allowed to bathe?”

Cordelia laughed at her father’s funny face as Hilda kissed her brow.

  A few hours later, Faustus turned down the bed as Cordelia got ready in the bathroom.

“Cordy, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“Doing it right now, Dad.”

Faustus couldn’t resist. “With water?”

First, there was silence then came a low moan. Faustus smiled to himself.

Cordelia switched off the bathroom light and walked more into her bedroom. “Hecate, I’m dumb,” She muttered.

When she was close enough, Faustus put his arm around his daughter. “You are not dumb. You, my girl, are 6. Considering how you speak and behave most of the time, it’s easy to forget how young you are.”

Cordelia gave a half-smile. “Still young enough to be read to?”

“Not very subtle, miss Spellman.”

Cordelia giggled and crawled into bed as Faustus grabbed the book on the nightstand. Some little girls like fairy tales, most, at least, like a story with a plot. But most nights, Cordelia favored spell books, especially the Latin ones, even though Cordelia didn’t speak the language. She said it soothed her faster. Tonight, Faustus only read a page and a half before Cordelia was fast asleep. He tucked her in and tiptoed out of the room. The next thing Cordelia was aware of; someone was arranging her blankets. Her 1st thought was that the troublesome ghost was back but she was instantly awake when she saw who it really was.

“Mommy! I missed you so much today!” Cordelia sat up and threw herself into Zelda’s arms.

Zelda kissed her brow. “I’ve missed you too, little one. I didn’t mean to wake you, but your father told me that you had a scare today.”

“That’s not important,” Cordelia dismissed. “Will you come with us to pick up LJ and Sabrina tomorrow morning?”

Zelda nodded. “I will, but I must get back to the academy by early afternoon at the very latest.”

Cordelia frowned. “But tomorrow is the day before Solstice. You always spend it with us.”

“I know precious but we’re so behind this year. I mean, the church is not yet decorated or prepared for midnight mass yet.”

“How about I go with you? That way you could get your work and we could still be together.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No! Wait! Don’t go yet.” Cordelia grabbed her book. “Read to me.”

“It’s late, Cordelia.”

“Please, Mom?”

Normally, Zelda would have held firm but she felt massively guilty about barely being home lately. Zelda sighed and took the book. “Move over.”

An hour later, Faustus went to look for his wife and found Zelda and Cordelia snuggled up together, both fast asleep. Faustus went to Zelda to whisper to her. “It’s late, my love. We’re going to have to leave for the airport, well, in just a few hours now.”

“Mmm,” was Zelda’s only reply.

It was only then that he saw the book. “Did Cordy get another story out of you?”

Again, “Mmm.”

“Dearest, are you asleep?”

“Mmm?”

Faustus smiled. “That’s what I thought.” Gently, he put 1 hand under Zelda’s head and the other 1 under her knees. Then he carried Zelda out of Cordelia’s room and back to their own bed.

 Even though they had only been home a few weeks before for feats of feasts, Sabrina and LJ’s homecoming was a joyful one. At the airport, there was much hugging and kissing, done by all the family. The morning flew by with all their laughing, talking, and catching up. After lunch, most of the family went to the church with Zelda to help set things up, yet Sabrina went for a different reason. All Sabrina had to do was wait for an opportunity to talk to her aunts alone. She got 2 and chickened out both times. Fed up with her own failure, Sabrina teleported herself back to Spellman’s kitchen and groaned.

“Just tell them, you coward!”

The loud whistle of the kettle startled Sabrina. She turned and saw Faustus at the stove,1 of his eyebrows rose. “Something wrong, Sabrina?”

She could feel her eyes watering. “Yes.”

Faustus said the 1st thing that came to mind. “Are you changing your major again?”

Sabrina shook her head. “No, I’m not changing my major. I’m not going back to school at all!” There, she finally said it.

For his part, Faustus got out 2 cups and saucers, poured the tea, and sat down at the table with Sabrina.

“I can’t seem to bring myself to tell Auntie Hilda and Aunt Z. I wasted 5 years, 3 majors, and all that money. My aunties are going to be so disappointed.”

In an effort to comfort his niece, Faustus took Sabrina’s hand in his. “All your aunts have ever wanted for you is to be happy.”

“I tried, I tried so hard.” Sabrina’s lip quivered.

“I know,” Faustus soothed. “Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise,” he suggested. “Maybe, by taking a semester off will help you relax and figure out for sure what you really want to do.”

“But I was sure all those times I change my majors,” Sabrina stressed.

“You know, 1 of my favourite teachers once told me that the secret to professional success is to pick something that you love and are good at.”

“But I don’t know what I’m good for a job.”

“What about helping people? You’re good at that.”

“But that could any career.” Sabrina pointed out.

“How about a therapist? I would be lost without mine.”

Sabrina smiled. “A therapist? Me? You remember I’m the one who causes most of the problems around here?”

“Oh, that was when you were a teenager,” Faustus dismissed. “You’re grown up a lot since then. Besides, if nothing else, the outlook of a half-mortal, half-fallen angel raised by witches is bound to be interesting.”

Sabrina laughed. “True. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks, Uncle Faustus.”

He was shocked. “You’ve never called me uncle before.”

“I know but it’s high time I did.”

 “Dad? I’ve been wondering something for a long time, but I’m not sure how to ask.”

It was late that night and Faustus was readying Cordelia for midnight mass. In his opinion, she looked great. His daughter was wearing a new red dress, her white winter tights, and shiny black Mary Janes. He was now adding the finishing touch of a ribbon in her red hair, exactly like her mother’s. “Cordy, don’t be scared. You know you can ask me anything.”

“Okay, Dad, don’t you believe? I mean, I know that Uncle C isn’t a warlock, so it makes sense that he doesn’t share our faith, but why don’t you believe?”

“But I do believe, sweetheart. I was baptized the night after you were born.”

Cordelia seemed confused. “You were?! Then why don’t you ever attend mass?”

Faustus sighed. “You have to leave in a few minutes and it’s a very long story and I promise that someday we will discuss this in greater detail, but for now all I can tell you that when I was high priest, before you were born, I did things that I am deeply ashamed of. The coven has since forgiven me but I am still weary of being near them.  I do attend mass, in fact, I’m there every week, but I don’t sit up front with the rest of the family, I actually like to sit in the very back pew. I also like to be the last one to arrive and the first one to leave. I like it when the coven doesn’t even notice me.”

Cordelia thought for a moment and then said, “Are you sorry about what you did?”

“Oh, Hecate, yes! I’m sorrier than anyone can ever know.”

Cordelia shrugged. “Then the coven has to forgive you. It’s just good manners.”

Faustus hugged his daughter, grateful for her innocent logic.

   A little later, Cordelia found herself at the church, sitting in the front pew with Hilda, Sabrina, Ambrose, and the twins while Prudence sang in the choir. Even at 6, Cordelia felt proud that it was her mother who performed the service, glorious in her white and gold robes. During the middle of the service, Cordelia took advantage of her end seat and looked toward the back. Sure enough, she found her father, who waved at her. After mass, Cordelia stayed behind to help clean up and help her mother say goodbye to the coven. When they drove home, there a raven haired woman near the stairs. Cordelia didn’t know who the lady was but, judging the way her mother was gripping the wheel, Cordelia guessed her mother did.

“Is she the one who keeps bothering you?” Zelda asked.

“No, I don’t think so. Mom, who is that?”

“Go inside and get dressed for bed, Cordy. It’s late.”

Cordelia did as she was told but she did pick up some bits of dialogue.

“Bright solstice, Zelda.”

“What are you doing here, Lilith?”

“Come now, surely I’m allowed to check up on my son’s future bride.”

That was all Cordelia heard. 10 minutes later, Zelda came into Cordelia’s room to kiss her daughter goodnight.

“Mom?  I heard you and that lady talking. Who’s getting married? Prudence or LJ?”

“No one in this house is getting married!” Zelda declared firmly.

Zelda went to bed mad and woke up even angrier. “I don’t get it, Faustus.” She said to her husband as they went downstairs for breakfast. “We heard or seen nothing of Lilith these past 6 years and the 1st thing she mentions is that stupid marriage contract that I signed in invisible ink and can’t possibly be binding. Lilith knows that! What game is she playing at?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Faustus answered honestly. “Whenever it is, we’ll deal with it together like we always do. Today is solstice. It’s time to celebrate that and the fact that this is your 1st day off in weeks. Then, later on, tonight, I get to show you how terribly I and our bed, have missed you.”  He kissed her hard before they walked into the kitchen, hand in hand.

 According to tradition, the family waited until sundown to gather round the Yule tree and start exchanging gifts. Half an hour later, the get together was in full swing, with music, talking, and laughing all filling the air. It was about this time that Faustus gave Zelda a small blue ring box. Inside was the 6th annual charm that Faustus gave his wife every Yule to go on the bracelet that he had given her on their 1st Solstice that they spent together as a married couple. However, the meaning of this year’s charm was lost on Zelda.

“A white rose?”

Faustus nodded. “A symbol of eternal love.”

Zelda gave a sly smile. “Yours or mine?”

Faustus laughed and stroked his wife’s cheek as he received Zelda’s thank you kiss. Then Faustus stood up and grabbed a skinny gift from under the tree. He passed it to Cordelia.  “Speaking of jewellery, here a little something from your mother and me.” Cordelia smiled as she took the gift and unwrapped it. It turned out be a golden chain with a crescent moon attached, not unlike her own birthmark. She looked up at her parents from her place on the floor.

“I love it! Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom.” Cordelia got up and hugged both her parents.

“May Hecate bless and keep you, my Cordelia.” Zelda smiled at her daughter.

“Amen.”

“Oh, it seems we ran out of music and could use a new Christmas CD.” Hilda sighed.

“I’ll go change it since I’m up.”  Cordelia offered and journeyed to the stereo but before she got there, she passed a window and froze.  She looked very upset.

It was Hilda who first noticed her distress.  “Cordy, darling? What’s wrong?”

“It’s her,” Came her niece’s reply. “The ghost that keeps up me at night. She’s right outside.”

“How do you know? You said you never saw her.” Ambrose pointed out.

Cordelia shook her head. “I never did, but I always felt her just as I feel her now and I’m looking straight at her.”

Faustus got up to collect his daughter.  “Come sit down, sweetheart.  We’ll figure all this out later.” Yet just as he put an arm around Cordelia, he looked out the window and saw the ghost too. “Constance?”

“Faustus, may I see you out in the hall for a minute?” Zelda asked as she rose.

 “I think we should let Constance in.”

Faustus couldn’t believe his ears. “What?  Zelda dearest, what are you saying?”

“Well, I think it’s perfectly oblivious why she’s here.”

Faustus nodded. “Yes, she’s here to ruin our family solstice.”

“No,” his wife disagreed, “I think she’s here to see her children, the twins, as is her right.”

“I think you’re giving her too much credit. Don’t you remember how she behaved the last time we made contact with her? You had to bar her from the house!”

“That was over 6 years ago. Maybe she changed.”

“Changed?!” Faustus sneered. “Then why has she  been  bothered Cordy for over a month?”

“Why don’t you go out there and ask her yourself?”

“Fine, I will,” Faustus agreed. “But you’re coming with me.”

A moment later, Zelda and Faustus stepped out onto the frozen porch. Constance was right before them.

“If we allow you into this house, will you abide by its rules and customs?” Faustus asked.

Constance smiled as she nodded. “I will.”

“Come in. You are welcome.” With those simple words, Zelda broke her own spell.

The whole family was shocked when Faustus and Zelda returned with the ghost. Hilda was the 1st to recover.

“Um, Ambrose, Prudence, Sabrina, Cordy, could you come to help me and your uncle C in the kitchen?”

“I think I’ll join you.” Zelda turned to join the family, but Constance called her back. “Please stay, Zelda, there’s something I would like to say to you too.”

“Ok.” Zelda was unsure as she slid into her chair next to Faustus. The twins were sitting on the sofa. Zelda noticed that the twins were holding hands, something they only did when they were really anxious.

“Is it true?”  Jake asked. “Are you really our mother?”

“She’s only our birth mother,” his sister answered him, “Zelda is our real mother.”

“LJ, please!” Zelda didn’t mean it, but her mothering tone came through.

Constance didn’t seem to mind as she stared at the twins and smiled. “You are both so beautiful.”  She touched LJ’s face. “My daughter on her way to becoming a witch doctor!”

Jake lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not a genius like LJ.”

“Are you happy, my son?”

“I am.”

Constance smiled. “That’s all that matters.”

“And we’re safe,” LJ added.

“That’s right,” Jake agreed. “Blackwood is no more.”

Constance smiled. “I know; I’ve been watching you. I’ve been watching all of you.” Constance turned. “Which brings me back to you, Zelda Spellman. I have something important to say to you. Thank you. Ever since you dispatched with Blackwood, you have done everything to make sure that my children felt safe and loved. I can never thank you enough for that.”

LJ got up and walked to Zelda’s side. “Why would even doubt her? She cared for us when we were babies. I mean, this is the same woman who whisked me away at birth and loved me when she didn’t have to.”

You must understand,” Constance stressed. “The last time I saw Zelda; she was heavily pregnant. I thought that she would prefer her own child and become a petty and jealous stepmother to the 2 of you. Just” Constance sighed and cast down her eyes in shame. “Just as I did with Prudence. Happily, that didn’t happen. She loves you as if you were her own.”

“I love them because they are my own,” Zelda said gently, “Just as Cordelia and Prudence are. Perhaps you would have learned this if you’ve survived but a mother’s heart can never be too full.”

“Wait,” Jake was confused. “If all you wanted was to have a peaceful heart-to-heart, then why have you been bothering Cordy all this time?”

Constance looked startled.  “Have I?   I didn’t mean to. Please apologize to her for me.”

LJ leaned in to whisper in Zelda’s ear.  “I guess the divine child’s powers can pick up a rogue ghost better than we can.”

Zelda’s focus was elsewhere at the moment. “Constance, you’re glowing. You’ve never looked better.”

The ghost blushed like a schoolgirl. “Am I? Well, I guess being at peace agrees with me then. You see, I recently re-met a friend from childhood on the other side, and he has been helping me to put aside my anger and bitterness. I’m starting to see things differently now. Zelda, I understand that you didn’t set out to break up my marriage, Faustus’s heart was yours long before I came around. It’s perfectly fine that my children have 2 mothers, as long as they are loved and protected.”

Sensing that her time was up, Constance kissed both her children and turned to leave when

“Wait.” It was the 1st time Faustus had spoken since they had all sat down. Now, he stood and when to the ghost. “Constance, I have never seen you speak so tenderly or behave so kindly. I just to say I’m sorry. We never were a love match but I could have been kinder to you during our marriage. Not pressuring you for a son, been more of a comfort during your miscarriages. Enjoy the happiness you have now; you certainly deserve it. Bright Solstice.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. The lights flicked and then the ghost was gone.

It was when Constance was gone that Jake fell on his knees before Zelda. “We love you, bonus mom.”

LJ hugged her. “We sure do.”

Faustus watched this touching scene for a moment and then turned his attention to the hallway.  “Okay, guys, you can come out now. Don’t think I don’t see you spying over there!”

The guilty gang filed back into the living room and the Solstice celebrations continued.1 hour later, the room was quiet as Ambrose read Charles Dickins’ A Christmas Carol aloud. Fearing that she would too big to do it next year, Cordelia grabbed her favorite blanket and settled herself on Zelda’s lap. She was going to ask if she was too heavy when her mother held her closer.

“Hecate, bless us, everyone,” Cordelia whispered.

[princess-of-riviaa]

Bewitching the Witcher part 2

Part 1

Summary: Geralt insists that what happened between you two was a one time thing, and it was a mistake. But at a ball in Cintra that the witchers and the bard are formerly invited to attend, you’re determined to prove to Geralt just how badly he needs you.

Series Summary: You and The Witcher aren’t meant to be together. In fact, the only thing you two should be doing is getting as far away from each other as fast as you can. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t. But he’s just too tempting to resist.

Authors note: Alternate universe (?) where women can be Witcher’s too, but all Witcher’s are forbidden from having romantic relationships. Also, the writer in me has forced me to do a lot of research for these chapters just to understand the time period better. By far the most entertaining research so far has been looking into the type of medieval dances that people did at balls such as the one in this chapter. Dancing has changed so much since then

Warning(s): jealous!Geralt, mastubrating (m), slight dom!Geralt, daddy!Geralt, oral sex (female receiving), a bit of Jaskier, um this is pretty damn long so sorry (3.9k words, writer me doesn’t know how to shut up)

“It is with pleasure that I, Queen Calanthe of Cintra, invite Witcher Geralt of Rivia, Witcher Y/N of Gesa, and Jaskier the bard of Redania to our annual Summer Solstice Ball.” Jaskier skipped over the rest of the invitation, not bothering to announce the insignificant details. He finally looked up to you and Geralt. “It’s tonight. And none of us have anything to wear.”

“We’re not going,” Geralt growled.

You and Jaskier turned on him.

“We have to,” you said. “The Queen of Cintra herself invited us.”

“You can’t say no to the queen,” Jaskier added.

Geralt kept his eyes on Jaskier as he said, “We have too many monsters to kill and not enough coin.”

“We can stop the killing for one night,” you said.

“We have enough money to buy a few nice things,” Jaskier said.

Geralt replied, “I’m not wasting our food money on a coat and pants,” Geralt huffed at Jaskier.

Jaskier gave a sassy, mischievous smile and patted the satchel around his shoulder. “No worries. I will. That’s why you made me in charge of our finances, right? So I could determine when we needed to spend money? And I declare tonight is just the time to do it.”

“Jaskier--” Geralt began, but Jaskier was already running down the street and towards the closest clothing store. Geralt cursed under his breath.

“You don’t say no to a queen, Geralt,” you said.

He was silent.

“How long are you going to ignore me?” you wondered.

Ever since that glorious night of hunting a berserker and fucking like animals right after, just feet away from the berserker’s corpse no less, Geralt had only spoken to you once. And it had only been to tell you that what had happened was a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgement, a lack of willpower that led to an accident that never should have occurred. He made it clear that it would never happen again. And in the two weeks that had passed he’d kept his word. He hadn’t even come close enough to you to touch you. He’d barely even looked in your direction.

But tonight was going to change things. You were sure of that.

...

Geralt, Jaskier, and you stood in the back of the glorious ballroom to take in everything around you. 

Jaskier had purchased a new outfit for himself--a gold and green jackets that went with his deep green pants--and he’d coerced Geralt into wearing the turquoise blue coat Jaskier had also bought that afternoon. He’d found you a dress the same color as Geralt’s jacket and claimed that the witchers should dress alike, and you actually liked it. The dress fit you well in all the right places and both Jaskier and Geralt had given you a double take when they first saw you in it. 

Geralt hadn’t been able to hide the hunger in his eyes when he’d taken in the sight of you, his gaze moving slowly along and your body and making you burn with want. It was on rare moments when he forgot himself and he looked at you like that that made you remember the last time he touched you, the last time he’d been inside of you and made you come undone in his arms.

The musicians on the opposite end of the room began to play their harp and lute. Couples moved to the center of the room and began dancing as the soft chatter in the room died and the music rose louder.

You turned to the men beside you. Geralt was busy scanning the room for any sign of a threat. You noted how his eyes stayed far away from you. The realization sent a current of hurt and bitter determination through you. Jaskier, standing between you two, watched the musicians longingly, wanting to be beside them and playing. He noticed you watching him and frowned at you. You gave him a look, then nodded to the dancers.

“Do you... want to dance?” Jaskier guessed.

That made Geralt look over at you two with a frown. You weren’t a dancer. And you hated being anywhere near the center of attention. Everyone who wasn’t already dancing was watching the dancers in front of the dais and clapping along to the beat. Dancing would ensure that every eye was on you. Including Geralt’s.

So you looped your arm through Jaskier’s and said, “I’d love to dance with you, Jaskier,” before letting him whisk you away.

You two danced for what felt like a good hour, going back and forth between the Black Alman, Black Nag, and line dances. The dancing didn’t require intimate closeness, but you could still feel Geralt’s eyes following the two of you, and every time you threw a casual glance in his direction you noticed that he was tense, his jaw clenched and eyes burning on the sight of you beside Jaskier.

Jaskier noticed too. “He’s going to murder me for this, you know,” he said by your third dance, just loud enough for you to hear.

You calmly said, “Geralt won’t murder you. You’re the only friend he’s let himself have in the last one hundred years.”

Jaskier smiled slightly at the words. “You flatter me too much. I’m sure friend isn’t the first thing Geralt thinks of when he thinks of me.”

“He cares about you, Jaskier,” you assured him. “He’ll just never admit it out loud.”

You two were quiet until the dance finished. The musicians began another song and you began the first steps to the Black Alman again.

“What’s going on between you two?” Jaskier asked.

He didn’t have to specify. Between all the stolen glances you’d given Geralt in the last two weeks, and the way he’d been acting around you since that night, it was quiet obvious that something had happened.

“Not much so far,” was all you said.

The next step in the dance required Jaskier to come close to you as he walked in a circle around where you stood before coming to face you again. “I thought Witchers didn’t feel attracted to one another.”

“It’s not that we don’t,” you whispered. “It’s just that we can’t.”

Jaskier finished walking and stopped in front of you before grabbing your hand. “But you want to.”

It wasn’t a question. You had no doubt your longing for Geralt was obvious to anyone who wasn’t blind.

“He wants me too,” you said. “He just won’t admit it. He needs a little push.”

Jaskier looked between the two of you. “And having me dance with you is the little push?”

You smiled at him. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoying yourself.”

“I’d much rather be scouring out the dames here...” He admitted.

The song ended.

You smiled mischievously at him. “I might be able to help you out with that.”

And then you kissed him. In front of all the other dancers. In front of the royal family. In front of everyone else in the ballroom. But all you cared about was Geralt watching you. You wrapped your arms around Jaskier’s neck and pulled him closer to you. He was stiff against you out of shock, but it didn’t take long before he kissed you back. His hands moved to your hips and pulled you against him. Bloody fucking hell could Jaskier kiss. You weren’t expecting the skilled way his mouth moved against yours, like he’d done this a million times in the last week. But his touch didn’t make your toes curl or give you a head rush the way Geralt’s did. If anything, kissing Jaskier just made you realize how badly you really wanted The Witcher--enough to never want another man again.

When you pulled away, Jaskier was blushing. You almost laughed at the sight of the bard all tongue-tied over a mere kiss. He glanced around, and that was when you remembered that you two were in public. You felt your own face burn. Kissing Jaskier to make Geralt jealous was one thing, but to do it in public--to do it in front of the royal family was something else entirely.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you were suddenly just as tongue-tied as Jaskier. You glanced at him. He stared at the floor and cleared his throat. Almost everyone in the room was watching you, surprised at your audacity.

“The wine must be getting to her.” Geralt’s voice. He was suddenly next to you, explaining away your actions to the queen before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the ballroom.

As soon as you were in the hallway he shoved you against the nearest wall. He didn’t move towards you but you were also aware that his hands didn’t leave your shoulders.

“What the hell was that?!” he growled, his face inches from yours. His golden eyes were blazing.

“I wanted to kiss Jas,” you said, forcing yourself to sound calm, “so I did.”

He laughed bitterly. “You don’t want Jaskier.”

“And what do you know about who I want?” You spat. “You haven’t gone near me in weeks. What would you know about my wants or needs? Maybe I do want Jaskier. Maybe that wasn’t the first time I’ve kissed him. Maybe we’ve done a lot more than kiss--”

His mouth was on yours, hard and hot and fast. You gasped in surprise but didn’t dare push him away. Your eyes closed in pleasure as he pressed his tongue against your lips, forcing your mouth to part until you could taste him. His tongue tangled with yours, fighting for dominance. Suddenly his hands were on your hips, his fingers pressing into your dress, and you moaned in pleasure. Every inch of your body was on fire. Your hands came up to his neck and you tugged on the roots of his white hair. He growled. The feral sound made your toes curl and your hips bucked up to meet his. You could already feel how badly he wanted you.

“Geralt...” you moaned.

And just as quickly as it had started, he pulled away from you. His pupils were wide, his eyes more black than amber. He watched you, took in the sight of your face, your eyes, your swollen lips. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle on your skin before he forced himself to step back and breathed in deeply.

“You don’t want Jaskier,” he said before turning down the hall and walking away. He didn’t go back to the ball. Instead he headed in the direction of the room the royal family had given the three of you for the night in exchange of attending the ball.

Your heart was still hammering in your chest when he turned the corner and disappeared.

...

The rest of the night went slow. Every minute felt like an hour. You wanted to go up to your room and retire for the evening. You ached to go find Geralt and kiss him again, even if you had to beg for him to give in. But the royal family had requested your presence so they could have a Witcher keeping an eye on things. So you forced yourself to stay until the party ended an hour before dawn.

Jaskier had found an interested court woman by midnight. Apparently she’d seen you kiss Jaskier and, according to her, witnessed the desperate want on your face for him. And if a Witcher was desperate for just a kiss from Jaskier, the court woman wanted to know what other skills he had besides kissing. He had disappeared by the end of the party. You didn’t have to guess where he was.

You walked to your guest room by yourself. Your body physically ached from standing all night after the hour of dancing and your eyes burned. The bed called to you when you entered. It was empty. You neared it--

And then stopped. The bed was empty. Where the hell was Geralt?

You took off the small flats that had been squeezing your feet all night and then walked into the bathroom. You wanted to wash the ridiculous makeup off your face and hoped a warm bath would ease the tension in your muscles.

You stopped in the doorway. Geralt sat in the huge tub, steam rising above him from the scalding hot water. His eyes were closed. He didn’t see you, nor had he heard you enter. You took in the sight of his muscled chest and arms. You almost whimpered at the glorious sight of him. His right hand was hidden under the water, and from the way he frowned and parted his lips, you had no doubt about what he was doing. He let out an occasional groan of pleasure. Heat rose in your stomach at the sight of him jacking himself off. Had your kiss done this to him?

You neared the edge of the tub and cleared your throat. Geralt jumped, his eyes widening as he noticed you for the first time. He was frozen like a deer caught in headlights, knowing full well that you had just caught him masturbating. You took advantage of the moment to untie your dress and let it fall to your feet. Geralt couldn’t keep himself from taking in the sight of you greedily, his eyes stopping on the curve of your breasts.

Before he could think to move you dipped into the water and walked towards him. He didn’t tell you to stop or move away. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. You didn’t stop until you were straddling his lap. The hard length of his cock pressed against your stomach as you rested your arms on his shoulders. He couldn’t look away from you.

“I don’t want Jaskier. I want you, Geralt,” you whispered, then leaned in to kiss his neck and whisper into his ear, “Tell me you still want me too.”

“Y/N,” he murmured, still not daring to move.

You tugged on his ear. His hands instantly went up to your back, his thumb coming around to your hip bone.

“I thought fucking you once would get it out of my system,” you confessed. “That’s why I told you how I felt that night. That’s why I did what I did. Because I thought the wanting, the aching... I thought it would go away if I just gave myself what I wanted.”

You pulled back to look him in the eye.

He was frowning at you, looking pained.

You watched as your thumb moved across his cheek and his bottom lip. “But the wanting hasn’t stopped. It’s just grown. I can’t ever get you out of my head. You haunt my dreams, too. I can’t get away from you, from the memory of you touching me. Of you being inside of me. I don’t just want you anymore. I need you.”

Before he could say anything, you kissed him. It wasn’t like the kiss in the hall. It was slow and gentle. He didn’t kiss you back, though. His mouth was stiff against yours.

You pulled back. A knot formed in your throat. He wanted you, but his willpower was strong enough that he would say no to you until the day he died. Even with you straddling his lap, even with you naked on his lap, he would say no.

Maybe you weren’t enough for him.

Maybe he didn’t completely ache for you the way you did him.

Maybe this fire didn’t consume him and burn him down to the bone like it did you.

Maybe that night had just been fucking to him.

“Witchers aren’t meant to be together,” he said. “There’s a reason.”

You wanted to scream. Tears began falling down your face. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t help it. “I know that! I’ve been warned just as many times as you have, Geralt. You think I’m here because I think it’ll be fun? You’re consuming me, Geralt. I can’t fucking breathe without you! I’m here because not touching you, not seeing you, it’s driving me fucking mad.”

He brought his hands up to cup your face, the water dripping from his fingers onto your hair. He pulled you towards him until your forehead rested against his. The breath he released touched your lips and your body burned even hotter.

“This won’t end well,” he whispered.

You sniffed. “I know.”

You both sat there for a moment. You reigned in your tears and sniffed as his hands played with your hair. His eyes never left yours.

“I want you, Y/N,” he finally admitted.

Your breath caught in your throat. You’d been imagining what those words would sound like. You imagined him saying your name with that same longing in his voice. But your imagination couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing. His voice, your name on his tongue--it was so glorious it was sinful.

“I can’t breathe without you, either,” he continued. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat... I’m going insane, too. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you again, or how badly I’ve wanted to make you moan and writhe in the pleasure that I’m giving you... gods above, you’ve no idea how badly I’ve wanted to be inside of you again.”

“Why the hell did you wait two weeks to tell me that?” You breathed against his mouth.

He shut his eyes, that pained look returning to his face. “Because for as much as I want you, I’m just as terrified. Somehow I know this is going to end up hurting you, and the thought of you in pain...”

You cupped his face and waited until he looked at you again. “I’m in pain now, Geralt.” You kissed him softly, quickly. “Please. Please.”

When he kissed you, you melted into him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as you could possibly be. You kissed down the side of his neck to the spot that had made him lose control last time. His cock twitched against your stomach, growing even harder. His fingers dug into your skin with a sweet pain. Your hand disappeared under the water and you wrapped your hand around his cock and moved your fist up and down along his length. The moan he released made your toes curl.

He pushed on your hips, pushing you away from him. You whimpered.

“Geralt,” you sighed.

“As much as I don’t want you to stop touching my cock,” he said against your mouth, “I want to make you feel good first.”

You gasped as he rose to his feet, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist. He held onto you as he got out of the tub and moved to the bedroom, his muscles hardly straining with the effort. 

He was careful as he lied you down on the bed and hovered over you. You kissed him hard and he kissed you back just as fiercely before pulling away and kissing his way down your body. You gasped when his mouth clasped around your left breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His other hand massaged the other one as you moaned when he pinched your other nipple between his fingers, your hands automatically moving to cling to his hair. His other hand moved to your thighs and you instantly parted your legs, wanting him to touch you. He got the message. His fingers ran between the slick folds of your pussy and you could both hear how wet you already were.

“You’re always so wet for me, Y/N,” Geralt growled before moving his mouth to your right breast.

Intense pleasure kept you from replying. His fingers made small circles on your clit, making your legs clench.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, feeling a burning sensation in your stomach start to grow. “Geralt, I’m gonna--”

“Come for me, baby girl,” he said before kissing you roughly.

His pet name for you was your undoing. You came, your entire body trembling as you gasped into his mouth. His fingers continued to move against your clit as he helped you through your high. You gasped and breathed his name against his lips. He kissed you for a moment before rising up and moving between your legs. You’d pictured him fucking you so often in the last two weeks that your body shook with nervous excitement now that it was actually happening. He moved his cock between your folds, covering himself in your wetness.

“I need you inside of me,” you whined. “Fuck me, Geralt.”

He didn’t need anymore encouragement. He pushed the tip of his cock inside of you and you groaned. It didn’t take as long for you to adjust to his size this time around and he pushed further into you. He leaned down to kiss you as he filled you to the brim. Your walls clenched around him, the mere feeling of him inside of you nearly pushing you over the edge again.

“You gotta relax, baby, or I’m gonna cum right now,” he warned.

You forced your muscles to relax and your pussy slowly loosened its grip on his cock. He moved in and out of you so slowly it drove you crazy. Only once he moved to lean over you, his mouth connecting with yours, did he begin to move faster. You swallowed each others moans as he fucked you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. He kissed you even harder.

“You feel so fucking good around me, baby girl,” he muttered.

You whimpered. You didn’t know what it was about that pet name but it made you even wetter. Your walls clenched around his cock and he slowed his pace.

“Faster,” you begged. “Faster, daddy.”

The name took both of you by surprise. You gasped as soon as you said it, fearing how he would react, but he began pounding into you hard enough to make your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“Like that, baby girl?” he huffed, then groaned as he felt your walls clench even tighter around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned.

“Cum around daddy’s cock, baby girl,” he muttered, pounding into you even harder.

You screamed as your back arched and your vision went back. “Geralt, fuck!” You came around his cock and a second later you felt his hot cum pour out inside of you.

You breathed heavily as you both came down from your highs. He didn’t move, just ran a hand down your stomach.

“I love you,” you breathed. Only once the words had been said did you realize that they were true. You loved Geralt. You loved him madly.

He was quiet as he pulled out of you and lied down beside you. He kissed your cheek and you moved to rest your head on his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his slow heart, his fingers drawing small, soothing circles on the small of your back. You felt like you’d come home.

[kaen-ace-of-diamonds]

Full Moon Dance

Word Count: 2700+ (chapter 1) (chapter 2) [AO3 link]

Genre: Humor/Romance

Characters: Raven Branwen, Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen, Taiyang Xiao Long, Kite Branwen (OC, mentioned)

Pairing: Raven Branwen/Summer Rose

Summary: Misunderstanding what "taking a partner" is supposed to entail, Raven asks Summer to the Vytal Festival Dance.She did not expect that to become a gateway to facing her changing feelings for her teammates and her place at Beacon.

(I meant to have this posted for the free day of @rose-bird-week but missed the mark by a few days)

~0~

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.”

Vera Nazarian

~0~

Culture shock was a phrase that Raven had grown to truly detest by the end of her first year at Beacon. Navigating the obstacle course that was non-tribe society seemed to trip her and Qrow up at every turn, even as constantly helpful as Summer tried to be. 

(Considering how funny Tai found them sometimes, she would hesitate to fully include him in the “helpful” category.) 

When they’d gone back home to the tribe for their break, Kite had insisted on several nights where the three of them took dinner and drinks alone in her tent, so she could squeeze her twins for every last detail of their new school lives. Which Raven supposed she understood, coming from their leader who they’d never been apart from for so long, but she could have done without quite that much raucous laughter at their missteps. 

But by the time they got into the swing of second year, Raven thought that they had fully gotten the hang of this whole “living in the real world” thing, as Qrow was given to calling it. So when on the way back from class she started to hear the strains of an animated conversation, she didn’t think she would need to ask about exactly what was being discussed.

“...what everyone does,” Tai was saying. “Just don’t think so hard about it!”

Their backs were to her as they walked in the direction of their dorm room, so she couldn’t see Qrow’s face. But she could see him slowly nodding, and could picture the look of deep contemplation that probably accompanied it. This must be serious business.

“But I’ve got no idea what to do! We don’t have these things in Anima!”

“...No offense, but you guys don’t really have that much in Anima, do you?”

“You’re just catching on to that? And, I mean, I guess we do, but it’s not like it’s a fun party. What’s even the point of this dance thing?”

Recognition sparked in Raven’s head. Of course it was that.

Her primary interest in the Vytal Festival was combat, of course. The two of them hadn’t effortlessly crushed all competition Beacon had to offer, all the time, the way she’d expected coming in. But it was close enough that they were hungering for new opponents to test their strength, as were their teammates, so the influx of new students coming in for the tournament had her very excited. 

(Bloodthirsty, Qrow called the gleam in her eye, but she thought that was a bit too strong a word.)

She was determined not to make any more accidental friends — two was quite enough! — so the idea of wasting so much time fraternizing had not caught her interest at all. It was nothing like the occasional, informal bonfires of the Mistrali and Animan bandit tribes, where in the dark hours of uneasy peace, agreements and alliances could be brokered, and the future heirs of the kingdom’s underworld could get a feel for each other.

In any case, Qrow had not participated in one since he was thirteen and a large tree branch had fallen on Eiric Athdara while they’d been trying awkwardly to dance together. He’d blamed his Semblance and spent the next four years’ worth of bonfires sulking in the shadows, much to the confusion of everyone who had found him appealing and the exasperation of Kite. With all their positions here only temporary, Raven still wasn’t clear about the purpose of this event, and was interested in Tai’s explanation.

“Well, it’s fun!”

She resisted the urge to groan.

But she could hear the smile in Tai’s voice as he rambled on. “Remember that birthday party we threw you two? It’s even better than that, because nobody’s expecting anything of you, because you’re not the center of attention. You can do whatever you like—”

Oh, yeah? thought Raven with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Oh, yeah?” leered Qrow, wagging his, and earning himself a punch in the shoulder from his partner. 

“You know what I mean, Qrow, good gods. Anyway, it’s just about having fun. You don’t even have to know how to dance, or wear anything super fancy. The important part is the people you’re with.”

“Well, sure. But I don’t know if there’s anybody else I’d want to take with me. Though everyone else gets so upset when I say no, I oughta just say yes to the next one who asks. Let them tag along.”

Raven didn’t know why he sounded so despondent about it. Warning would-be suitors away with her ever-improving sword was something she’d been doing since her first weeks here without a second thought. She still wasn’t sure why their numbers had increased the closer this dance got, but it made no difference to her.

“Oh, come on, you don’t need to do that!” Tai threw his arm around Qrow’s shoulders, grinning. “You’re going to have a great partner to get you through it!”

Raven blinked. This was news to her. You were supposed to go with your partner? Making arrangements with someone else was some sort of exception? Well, this was just getting more confusing by the day, but she could work with it. 

“That’ll be fine, then,” she said out loud, making the boys jump and whip around so fast they knocked their heads together doing it.

“Ow! Raven, what the hell?!” Qrow shouted, as if she personally had whacked him upside the head. 

Tai looked only mildly surprised. “You should have said something if you wanted to join in.”

“No need,” Raven replied, with a small toss of her head. “I’ve already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” 

The three of them looked up towards a nearby staircase to see Summer trotting down it, looking interested in whatever fragments of conversation she’d heard. 

Raven looked back at her curiously: if this was the custom around here, why hadn’t Summer said anything to her about it? She gathered that Summer too had been raised outside the kingdoms, from what little she was willing to say about her background, but she’d lived in Vale long enough to know about things like this. Well, no matter, she was making up for it now.

“Hey, Summer!” she called up. “You’re going to the dance with me, aren’t you?”

She hadn’t expected a simple question to make the hallway go silent, but it did. Summer blinked, staring open-mouthed at her for a long moment. Then her face lit up, and she let out an almost exhilarated laugh.

“Sure, of course I will!” 

The delight in her voice startled Raven somewhat, but she recovered quickly. “All right, then.”

By now, she was used to being carried away on Summer’s zest for life. But Raven found the way she nearly flew down the rest of the stairs to grab both of Raven’s hands in hers, smiling so brightly, to be unusual even for her. Shouldn’t she have seen this coming? Or was Raven supposed to be the one to make the first move all along, for some reason, and Summer was just excited that she was finally getting with the program? 

Being landed with her partner in the first place had been so damned convoluted that this might as well happen (and she hoped this wouldn’t also involve Summer falling on top of her head from an ungodly high place). Still, she wondered whether it really called for Summer nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’d just been told Solstice had come early. 

“I’m so glad you told me when you did! I was going to just rent one of the basic white dresses, but now I know for sure we’re both going I’ll look for nicer ones — and I can do your hair! I’ll pick something out, just give me a little bit!”

With that, Summer disappeared back up the stairs in a flash of white cloak. Raven had a brief and blissful moment of thinking she had successfully navigated the situation, until she turned to see Tai and Qrow’s jaws both nearly on the floor. 

“What?”

“W-Well...” Tai was the first to find his voice again. “We just...didn’t expect you to ask her out, out of the blue, is all.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Why not? Aren’t you supposed to go to this thing with your partner?”

Both boys’ mouths became perfect O’s of realization. They looked at each other, and then back at her. 

“Oh,” said Qrow. “Uh, Raven, we should probably talk about something...”

~0~

There was no way she could let Kite hear about this.

Raven didn’t think her cheeks would ever stop burning. Not even the cooling late afternoon air helped. At least nobody could easily spot her here. 

Usually, when she screwed up some Valerian social norm or another, she was able to either brush it off or bluff well enough that it didn’t look like a screwup at all. And even if neither of those worked, she was much better at intimidating people into silence about it than her brother. Absolutely none of those methods would work here. 

Logically, she knew that Summer wasn’t the petty or easily embarrassed type. Still, the thought of finding her and admitting to her mistake...gods, how could she have been so dumb? She didn’t want to imagine the disappointment on Summer’s face the next time she—

“Raven! Hey, Raven? Could, uh...could I come up there with you?”

Raven startled, and glanced down to see Summer hanging out over the windowsill, peering up at her. Perhaps the tree directly outside their dorm room hadn’t been the best place to flee to if she wanted to remain undiscovered. 

“...Sure. If you can climb.”

Uncannily squirrel-like, Summer hopped out the window onto the trunk, and scurried up several feet of tree to reach the branch that Raven had taken up residence on. Scooting over slightly to give her room to sit, Raven noticed that she wasn’t just eager to help: she looked a little abashed as well, a look that only became more pronounced in the short silence that followed.

“So...” Summer rubbed the back of her head, mussing her braids. “I talked to Tai and Qrow and I...think I owe you an apology.”

“You do? Why?”

“Well, I misunderstood. I made a bunch of assumptions and...” Summer gestured to the branches around them. “Scared you up a tree.”

“Hmph. Scared is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think?”

“I guess. But still: I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

Raven sighed. “I was the one who acted without thinking. You don’t have to worry about it.”

To her relief, Summer didn’t look to be worried anymore...but she did look thoughtful. “So...what would you have done if you’d asked and I didn’t want to go with you? Hypothetically, I mean?”

It did not take Raven long to hit upon the answer. “Hid somewhere better than this and avoided you until it was all over.”

Summer laughed, but Raven wondered if that was concern in her eyes. “You know that’s not a very good way to handle your feelings, right?”

“Well, it’s best to go with your gut on these things,” Raven huffed. “Honestly, I’d rather just skip all this dance nonsense and get to the part where we thrash everyone else in the arena. No messing around, just winning.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be great!”

She had expected Summer to agree with her: she wasn’t fiercely competitive like her or Tai, but everybody liked to win. However, by now she knew her partner well enough to tell that, though her smile was impeccable, her response was just a bit too enthusiastic to be honest.

Determined not to miss anything this time, Raven spent a long moment studying the other girl’s face, replaying their conversation in her head to — hey, wait a minute. 

Summer blinked. “Raven? Why are you looking at me all suspicious?”

“...Before, when you said ‘hypothetically,’ how did you mean it? As in, hypothetically, what would I have done...or if you hypothetically didn’t want to go?”

“I...well...the second one,” she murmured.

Ah. She’d been so worried about her own stung pride that she had forgotten all about how excited Summer had been. So that was that.

“I mean, of course you can still go. I’m not going to stop you.”

“I was always planning on it. I’ve never been to anything like this before, either. But...” Raven very nearly jumped when she felt Summer’s hand slide on top of hers, her palm so soft it always surprised her. “I was really hoping we could go together.”

“Like as a team, or...?”

Summer didn’t laugh, just gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “With you.”

Oh. 

All of a sudden the shapes of the clouds in the distance were very, very interesting. 

“You...you like to dance, then?”

“My parents used to. My dad, especially.” The smile in Summer’s voice was wholly genuine this time, if wistful with nostalgia. “He’d always coax my father into it, outside when the moon was full. My father would grumble about it, pretend he wasn’t sappy enough to love it. But he was, every time. I could tell.”

Raven wasn’t sure what was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up: Summer’s thumb idly rubbing against her hand, the strangely melodic tone of her voice, or the vague and discomfiting sense, that hit every time Summer let them hear something about her life before Beacon, that she was close to a secret. 

All any of them really knew about it was that Summer had once had fathers, and now did not. Raven of all people didn’t want to instigate any digging into their team’s secrets. Kite wasn’t her mother, but for these purposes...

“My mom didn’t do any of that stuff. I don’t know how to dance, either.”

“We can learn together, then.”

Wow, those clouds. Definitely more deserving of attention than her rapidly pounding heart. 

“Raven? Would you like that?”

For a good few moments, Raven wasn’t sure she would be able to answer. When she finally did, it was in a voice much lower and quieter than she had expected. At least it was steady.

“...Yes. Yeah, I think I would.”

“Then we will. I promise.”

She nearly fell backwards off the tree branch, when she felt the feather-light touch of Summer’s lips on her cheek. They were only there for the most fleeting of seconds, making her almost wonder if she’d been wrong...but no,  she couldn’t possibly mistake it for anything else, and finally turned to stare at her partner.

Color. When Raven looked back on this moment years, even decades later, it would be all of its colors that lingered the most in her memory. The faint pink that painted Summer’s cheeks, the softer shade of her lips. The perfectly clear blue sky behind her head, that made the deep red ends of her hair stand out like fire against it. And the silver moonlight of her eyes — it occurred to Raven for the first time that she had never seen anything quite like them — that shone just as brightly as her smile.

Something twisted in her chest, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. She felt sure that Kite would smirk at it, though. 

Remember what you’re here for, Raven, she would remind her. She’s not really your partner. She’s your victim. 

Normally, she submitted to the voice of her leader, like any loyal Branwen. Today...she did not push it aside, exactly. But she could wait a little while to heed it, and push her luck just a bit more today.

“On second thought...I’d be honored to escort you, Summer,” she said, lifting her head a little higher and affecting the tone that Kite took with other tribe leaders. “So long as you can promise you won’t let me make such a fool of myself again.”

Summer giggled, clearly relieved. “I promise that too! I’ll make sure of it.”

“You know, with Tai and Qrow there to soak up all the attention, that’ll probably be easier than you think.”

“Well, maybe. Let’s give them some credit. And I can’t promise that you won’t get any attention. I still get to take you dress shopping and do your hair, don’t I?”

“...You keep saying that,” Raven said dubiously, “but when you say do...what exactly are you picturing?”

“One day...” Summer reached out again and ran her fingers through the back of Raven’s hair, where they promptly got stuck around the middle of her neck. “One day this won’t happen.”

She tugged a little to emphasize the point, but not hard enough to hurt. Raven was certainly in no hurry to have her remove her hand. 

“Actually, if you want, we could climb down and start trying stuff out now. See what styles you like?”

“Sure. Just...not right now.” The breeze was blowing gently in their faces, and Raven couldn’t quite place the scent that it carried to them, only that it was clean and sweet and she liked it. “Mind if we hang out up here for a while? It’s nice out.”

In answer, Summer leaned over and rested her head on Raven’s shoulder. “Yeah. It is.”

The birds had flown off, and the clouds thinned out, leaving only the perfect sky behind. Raven couldn’t seem to remember the last time she’d felt so very relaxed. Had she really been so furious with herself just a few minutes ago?

This really was good. She found herself wanting more. Perhaps this dance was something to look forward to after all.

[ladynestaarcheron]

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Nineteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti  @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me @rinad307 @superspiritfestival)

back after my exam hiatus!! so without further ado, here we go!

---

February 12 - 4 years after

The sun is barely shining before Nesta has rushed out to—who else?—Zeyn's house.

She can hear him taking his time as he makes his way to the door and she bounces on the balls of her feet. It's not an emergency...yet. But she doesn't like the minutes ticking by, with Cassian home alone with the three of them.

His warm brown eyes are bleary only for a second before he realizes it is her standing before him, and then they fly open.

"Nesta? What are you—is everyone all right?"

"We need to take Ollie to see his healer," she says.

"All right, I'll get my shoes. But—you didn't bring him?"

Nesta winces. Poor wording on her part, indeed. "No," she says. "I meant...Cassian and I are taking him. I...need you to come be with Avery and Nicky."

Zeyn, to his credit, does not flinch. His concern slips into something else, something she cannot name, for only a fraction of a second before it is back. "Of course. Just a minute, yeah?"

And he reappears less than a minute later, boots laced, shutting the door behind him. They set off together.

He doesn't even ignore her. "Are you worried?"

"I'm always worried," she says. "It's not the worst it's ever been, but...it's been a while." It had been six months since Nicky had coughed badly enough to need to see a healer. She remembers holding him in the first minutes after his birth—she hadn't been given him right away, like his siblings, because even then there had been something wrong with his lungs.

Zeyn must sense where her mind has run off to, because he reaches out and squeezes her hand. "If you think it's not that bad, you're probably right. You're going to see a healer. Everything will be fine."

She shoots him a shaky, grateful smile.

"Are Ava and Nicky awake?"

"I don't think so. Not when I left."

"All right...just get them ready and take them to nursery?"

"Yes, I already packed their things...if Avery won't put on a jacket, don't argue with her, but bring it along and give it to her teacher."

"Is that still going on?"

"Don't get me started," she grumbles. They round the corner and walk up the path to the house. Nesta holds out her hand to stop him. "Zeyn," she starts. Pauses. "Thank you."

It's not enough...there's more to say, she knows. But it does it, for now. And she has more pressing matters at hand, anyway.

---

April 12 - Year of

With the dawn of spring came dramatic change in the shop. Whatever winter wear had not been sold was tucked away in storage, and the switching out of the clothier's merchandise had inspired Nesta to do the same in Cassian's home.

Cassian did not have much to begin with, of course. But she felt she could rearrange the furniture in her bedroom.

Not that she had done much to make the place "hers"—in fact, she was not quite sure how. The little apartment she had rented in Velaris was the closest thing she had ever had to her own home, and she hadn't done much in the way of decor there. Briefly, she wondered if it was still in her name, or if Feyre had stopped paying the rent.

She decided she didn't care much. She was never going to go back to Velaris. Even if Cassian did still take his trips there.

While it was true that she had never purchased any bedding or curtains or a vanity, the subscription Cassian had gotten her for Solstice—NightWrite—had provided her with little knick-knacks. She had thrown out anything with Night Court insignia, but kept most of it. So pushing her bed to one side of the room and moving her bookshelf to the other was also accompanied by shuffling around of these objects.

It was during this...rather useless endeavor, she could admit to herself, of switching the order of the tiny figurines on her shelf, that she found it—the old flyer she had taken from the bar in the town center. The one advertising ships to that land across the sea. Gilameyva.

Nesta sat down on the bed. This is the paper that had inspired her, all those months ago, to get a job. To save up and go.

Since she never bought much of anything, she definitely had enough to book comfortable passage. She could go. Just set sail and...never come back.

Or maybe she could go...somewhere else. On a vacation. And then she would...come back. Didn't people plan for summer holidays months in advance? She could bring it up to Cassian now. Couldn't she?

But no, that would be insane. She had to save up. Because she was not going to live in his house forever. And where would she live? Would she build herself a house here, in the Illyrian mountains?

The flyer in her hand seemed to mock her. An idyllic land far away where no one knew the name Nesta Archeron. A fresh start.

For what she could not admit to herself, but what she had just started to understand was: she did not want a fresh start somewhere else. She wanted to stay with Cassian.

When had the switch happened in her mind? When did this pull between them not become so irritating? When had she decided to make her bedroom more comfortable, make her mark more permanent?

She didn't know. The only thing she was certain of was that this current state of limbo, of living in her room in his house while waiting for him to come back from meetings with her sister...this would not do.

Romance was fun in books, but in the real world, practically always won out for Nesta, and so it was abundantly clear to her that two options lay before her: either she would leave or she would stay. And those were her terms.

So all she had to do was work up the nerve to act on her decision.

After she figured out what it was, of course.

February 12 - 4 years after

When they get to the clinic, they are not immediately rushed into a room, which calms Nesta down. Cassian, on the other hand, only gets more anxious.

"Why aren't they letting us see the healer?" he demands in a whisper, low enough so Ollie, his head on Nesta's shoulder, cannot hear him.

"Trust me, if they think we can wait in line, we're all right."

"But he's coughing!"

"The others might have some graver issue. If they pull you ahead, your situation is dire." Indeed, there had been times when Nesta had brought Ollie in; the healer had taken one look at him and announced that she would need all her appointments cancelled.

"Sit down," she tells him, lowering herself and Ollie into a chair. She presses her lips to the top of his head as she strokes his lower back.

Cassian does, but it must be wildly uncomfortable; these tiny things with no wing-accommodation. She frowns. What will that be like for her children? To live here, where even in a community of different types of faeries, they are clearly other.

"You're really not worried?" he asks her.

"I'm concerned," she says. "But I'm not nervous. I know more or less what she's going to say. His lungs haven't gotten drastically weaker. You see him play and run around. It comes and goes for him. As long as we keep up with what the healer prescribes—which we do—we should be fine."

Cassian is quiet, clearly struggling for words.

"What is it?"

"Sometimes...things don't happen according to plan," he says finally.

She actually laughs a little. "Well, I know that."

His lips quirk at her slight laugh. "How did...how did you find out? That you were...pregnant?"

She leans back in her chair, giving Ollie more room to recline on her. Lying on his stomach sometimes helps with his cough. "I fainted, actually. And they—Miri, Zeyn—they brought me to the clinic and Amorette told me."

"She was your healer the whole time?"

"Yes. That's how we met."

"And you..." he hesitated. "She delivered them?"

"She did," she says.

Nesta often recalls that day with wonder. Her whole life she had felt—everything. Just so much, all the time. And how insignificantly nothing it all appeared, compared to that cacophony of emotion in those few hours.

"He was sick, then, too," Cassian says softly.

They have never truly discussed this before, but..."Yes. He was born...he was too small. And his lungs were...weak. Not quite underdeveloped, but weak. He wasn't...ready to breathe...yet."

Recollecting that time—collapsing in exhaustion and relief against the bed, and realizing only a few seconds later that something was horribly, horribly wrong—why weren't they giving her the baby? Why could she only hear two cries?—it always tightens Nesta's throat and blurs her vision. She can barely feel Cassian put his arm around her.

"We didn't know what was going to happen, at first," she whispers, half because of where they are, half because of what she's saying. "But he's...he's strong now. This is just...we're at the healer's. He'll be fi—" Nesta's voice catches on the last word and she can't finish it. She forces her mind to go blank. She can't imagine—can't let herself think—

"Hey," Cassian's voice cuts in. He squeezes her shoulder. "Stay with me."

You stay with me, she wants to say.

But she stays silent, choosing to focus on the feel of his arm. She doesn't trust her voice now, for anything.

---

April 15 - 1 year after

Midway through her second trimester, Nesta was more than ready to give birth. The extra weight she was carrying was officially past flattering, she couldn't see her feet unless she was lying down, and everywhere she went, people stopped her and asked her if she was excited.

The latter was the absolute worst, because she still had not decided whether or not she was going to keep the children.

But she had never been good at being put on the spot—her preferred method of dealing with unwanted advances had always been silently staring them down, and since she was trying to get along as an average Sugar Valley resident, when Zeyn asked her if she had gotten around to painting the nursery yet, and if she would like some help...

What else could she say?

So he was there that afternoon, holding two buckets of light blue paint.

"Are you sure there's any difference between these two?" he asked, squinting.

"Sky and powder? Yes." To be fair, she probably wouldn't have registered the difference so clearly had she not grown up with Feyre, ever-obsessed with chronicling the different colors around them.

"Are we doing...stripes?"

"No." Stripes? For babies? "Just those two will be powder," and she punctuates her words by pointing to the wall front and back walls, "and those two will be sky."

"Oh. Why?"

"It's supposed to be lightly stimulating." She had read that in a book Amorette had given her. She was skeptical, but the store she had gone to had given her a good deal on the paints.

"Right. Well. Let's start, then."

Zeyn could be irritating, but his endless, mindless chatter could be comforting, as well. That was how she felt today. And she did appreciate how he kept going to fetch her things—berry juice and an extra cushion to put on her chair. Nesta felt she had not done her part at all, but Zeyn didn't seem to mind.

"Any progress on names?"

"Nothing concrete."

"Ah, well," he said. "My mother says you have to meet a baby before you know for sure if the name is right."

Nesta didn't think she'd be able to "meet a baby"—surely they would just be...the same as the rest of the small children she saw at the clinic or around town. Babies, she felt, all looked the same, and even if they were older and had developed their own features, they weren't very diverse personality-wise.

Not that she didn't like children. She remembered a vague feeling of excitement being told that she was going to have a new baby sister—Feyre, she couldn't remember Elain's birth—and she had liked to play with her, when she was a young girl. But there had not been very many babies for her to interact with during her teenage and adult years.

This was ridiculous. She didn't need to dwell on this so much. She probably wasn't going to keep them, right? That was why it didn't matter that Cassian still had not written back. It wasn't...he didn't need to know, if neither of them wanted anything to do with this. Because he did not want children either, obviously. He was...busy.

"Maybe it'll look different when it dries," Zeyn said, interrupting her thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes...sky's a bit darker."

"Hmm," he said, frowning. "You know...I really don't see it."

Nesta shrugged.

Zeyn clapped his hands together. "Well, as fun as staring at paint dry is..." he grinned at her. "Want to go for dinner? Jamal's?"

And she was certain that Sugar Valley etiquette demanded humoring the person who spent the afternoon doing handiwork at your house, so she said, "Sure."

---

February 12 - 4 years after

It is just past noon when Nesta sees Zeyn again, at the shop, coffee and pastry in hand.

"Hey!" he says. "You're all right? Ollie's...?"

"Fine," she says, unable to stop her grin. "The healer gave us a tonic for him to take over the next few weeks. She said that he might need it now and again, but as long as he takes it when he does, she sees no reason to expect significant deterioration. He'll probably be on par with his siblings by the time he turns twelve." Nesta's heart sings as she repeats the healer's words.

Zeyn pulls her in a hug. "Let's tell Miri and Adil. They're in the back."

"Oh, I'm actually not staying long. I just came to let you know we're all right...and give you this," she adds, holding out the food. "Thank you so much. How were Avery and Nicky?"

"Fine," he says. "We had fun."

Nesta rolls her eyes. "Don't tell me."

"I wasn't going to," he teases. "It's a secret."

"You four and your secrets," she says, rolling her eyes again.

He shakes his head, eyes still laughing at her. "Are you taking him back to nursery?"

"No, we're going to let him rest. We think it also might be nice to spend some time with just him, the both of us. We're thinking—" Nesta stops herself. Zeyn does not need to know how she and Cassian plan to spend time with each child individually, he does not need to hear this. "He's just so tired," she finishes.

But the damage is done and the warmth slips out of Zeyn's face. He looks down at the order from Samir's. "Nesta," he says, soft, slow. "Are you really doing this with him?"

She freezes. "Zeyn. He's their father. He has a right to be included in this."

"I'm not talking about that...and I don't agree with you on that matter, either."

Nesta raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"He wasn't there, Nesta," Zeyn says, more desperate than anything else. "He just—you had to do it all without him."

"I can't believe you're starting this right now," she says, more to herself than to him. Louder, she says, "I will not discuss this. He's here now. He's a part of their lives now. He was with me today."

"He's here when it fits his schedule."

"There's nothing wrong with having a job," she defends—defends! As if she doesn't hate that he commands the Night Court armies!

"Yours and his are not comparable," he says. "Do you remember...what it was like? What it felt like?" Zeyn stops, takes a shaky breath, before continuing. "Because I remember seeing you. In pain. Burdened. All alone."

"That's enough," Nesta snaps, crossing her arms. "It's been months, Zeyn. He's a permanent fixture of their lives. You ought to get used to it."

"Oh, I'm used to that," he says, about as close to testy as Zeyn can get. "It's his being a permanent fixture of your life I can't get behind."

Nesta tenses. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nesta. Please."

She shifts her weight backwards. If he were anyone else...but he's not. He's Zeyn. Zeyn, who has always been there for her, to the very best of his ability, who left his house at dawn this morning to feed and dress her children.

So she takes a deep breath. "I need to be getting back, Zeyn," she says.

He slumps slightly, but she knows this isn't over. "Give my love to Ollie," he says.

"I will."

"Thanks for the food."

"Don't be silly...thank you. Really."

"Don't thank me."

"Well, I will if I see fit. Thank you."

It works—he gives a short laugh. But it doesn't meet his eyes.

She doesn't have space, though, in her head or heart for that right now. Not Zeyn; not that she doesn't have any room for him. But right now...right now she needs to go to Ollie.

---

thank you all for your patience with this chapter, and @thestarwhowishes for betaing<3 would love to hear what y’all think<3

---

Chapter Twenty

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 15

And we’re back! Thanks for being patient while I finished up college; I’ll post something else tomorrow to make up for the wait. But for now, here’s our favorite wyvern!

Male wyvern X female reader, 3013 words

Keeping your relationship a secret was a concept Davrakoss seemed to only understand in theory. He hadn’t attempted anything as obvious as kissing you in public, which was something of a relief, but that seemed to be the limit he understood. Instead of avoiding you in public and ensuring your relationship at least looked professional, he often sought you out or tried to stay around you. Every time he stood near you or engaged in conversation with you, you could feel eyes turning to you. The soft murmurs of conversation became jagged whispers as people frowned disapprovingly.

The fact that there was a ball coming up was only increasing the amount of stress on your shoulders.

Balls were done twice yearly, a highly formal one on the winter solstice and a much less formal one on the summer solstice. The formal one was designed to allow nobles from surrounding kingdoms to come together and, as far as you could tell, show off. Wearing increasingly elaborate dresses, showing off ostentatious wealth, and subtle bragging about exactly how well their kingdom was doing seemed to be the main focuses of the evening.

You really couldn’t see Davrakoss at such an event. Subtle politics had never been his strong suit and you couldn’t spend as much time as you wanted preparing him because you had to spend your time making sure the castle was prepared for the ball.

Preparing for the ball was the worst part of the year for every servant. Not only was there a lot of extra work, but nobles tended to become shorter and shorter of temper as the date approached. One of the particularly bratty noble girls had nearly pushed a servant down a flight of stairs when he had failed to bring her a particularly expensive bolt of fabric for a dress.

The pressure at least didn’t seem to be getting to Davrakoss, which was a relief. “Stay with me tonight,” he insisted as you made to head back to your quarters. “It would be simpler. And you wouldn’t have to get up as early tomorrow.”

He had been making the proposition every day since you had officially become a couple. Not once had you taken him up on it, but there was something to be said for his tenacity.

“It would be suspicious,” you said. “People could notice that I don’t return and if I start appearing in your room every morning, they’re going to find out.”

“I don’t care what people think,” Davrakoss crooned, but he wasn’t terribly insistent. “Just stay a little longer, at least?” He gave you a pleading look. It was impressive how much he managed to make his reptilian eyes look like a puppy dog’s.

“Only a little longer,” you said. “I really do need to get some sleep before tomorrow.”

Davrakoss wrapped himself around you, twining his tail around your legs and putting his arms around your shoulders. His cool nose pressed into the crook of your neck and you had to strangle a squeak. “You’re tense,” he said, kneading his fingertips into the muscles near your neck.

“It’s the ball. I hate these things,” you said. Davrakoss lifted his head from your shoulders and pulled you securely against his chest.

“I’m not all that excited for it either,” he said. “I’m not certain what I’m supposed to do.”

“Your part shouldn’t be too difficult,” you said. “Just stand around and make nice with the other nobles. Be polite to anyone who talks to you, smile a lot, and please try not to threaten anyone in any way.”

“I threaten one queen once and you never let it go,” Dravrakoss chuckled into the top of your head. “I won’t threaten anyone.” He rubbed your back, scratching gently with the tips of his fingers. “The other nobles have been talking about bringing dates.”

“Oh, yeah.” There was an unsettling drop in the pit of your stomach. “A lot of them use the ball as an opportunity to declare intent to court. Or to show off their partner. And those who don’t bring partners will usually be trying to get a partner at the ball.”

“I wish I could bring you,” Davrakoss said.

“I’ll be there,” you said.

“Not as my date,” Davrakoss snorted. “As a servant. It’s not the same.”

“Well, I’ll still be there if you need help,” you said. Davrakoss sighed, fluffing your hair with a hand.

“I don’t need you there for help. I want you to be able to go to a human party with me. You deserve a break. You’ve been working so hard for this and you don’t even get to enjoy it.”

“I’ll enjoy having the next day off,” you said. “Trust me, it’s better to work the night of the party than it is to have to care for all the hungover nobles the next morning.”

“And I think you’d look nice all dressed up,” Davrakoss said.

“It doesn’t matter because I can’t go.” You yawned and slowly untangled yourself from Davrakoss. “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Davrakoss said. When you turned back toward him, he took your face gently in his hands and pressed a kiss to your lips. He wasn’t a great kisser, which you mostly attributed to having spent most of his life without lips. Generally, though, his lack of technique was made up for with his enthusiasm. After a moment, he broke away, fingertips brushing along the lines of your face. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said reluctantly.

“See you then,” you said. His hands dropped away from you and you hurried out the door before his sad expression changed your mind.

The next day was spent rushing back and forth between preparing Davrakoss for the ball and making sure that everything else was ready. His clothes were, as was usual for the ball, incredibly elaborate and many-layered. His hair was also done up in an elaborate, twisting braid around his head, and jewelry hung from almost every part of his body. Typically, other servants took care of the clothing and hairstyling for the ball, but Davrakoss made others nervous enough that they kept calling you in for help.

“Ow.” You ran a comb through his hair, tugging on a particularly stubborn knot. The servant next to you drew back, as if frightened he would bite. Instead, he just gave his head a small shake and settled back into his seat.

“What did you do to your hair?” you muttered. You were terribly aware that the other servants in the room were staring at you with wide eyes. You would have to be careful to not be overly familiar with him. But at the same time, it was hard to be overly cool to him. He was already bristling with discomfort from all the people fussing over him and your comforting presence seemed to soothe him.

“I didn’t do anything. Ow!” You gave a sharp tug to one of the knots in his hair and his clawed fingertips dug into the arms of his chair. “Be careful!”

The servant next to you stared with wide eyes, but you just gave her a reassuring smile. “He’s more bark than bite,” you reassured her. Davrakoss’ expression didn’t change, but his tail tapped against your ankle for a moment, an acknowledgement of your teasing.

You gestured for one of the servants to come closer and, with her help, began to twist his hair into an elaborate crown around his horns. It took quite a while. Davrakoss sank back in his seat, eyes closed. The only sign that he wasn’t sleeping was that he twitched slightly whenever you pulled on his hair a little too hard.

Finally, once his hair was all done up and pretty, you managed to shoo the other servants out of the room. Davrakoss peered at himself in a full-length mirror, shifting a little to get a better look at himself. He was wearing a long, greenish-blue robe with a large cape that covered much of his tail. His horns were half hidden under his hair, and mostly covered in long, hanging jewels and metal. Gems and jewels, mostly blue, white, and silver, adorned him all over.

“You look good,” you said. The colors and flowing material made him look almost ethereal. It made your mouth go dry and your palms go clammy just to look at him.

He turned toward you, looking a little dazed. “Thank you.” He reached up to touch one of his horns, but dropped his hand halfway through the action. There was a strange sadness in his face.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, stepping up to his side. He leaned into your touch, eyes drifting shut for a second.

“You did a very good job at making me look human,” he said, leaning away from your again. You gaped, startled, but looking again, you could see he was right. The most obvious marks that he was a wyvern had been hidden away. If you only glanced at him for a moment, you could mistake him for a human. Your stomach twisted.

“That wasn’t what I wanted to-” you started, but Davrakoss stopped you with a sad smile.

“I know this isn’t your fault,” he said gently. “You didn’t design this outfit. I expect it was requested by the royal family to make me look less intimidating.” He sighed, disappointment etching itself across his face. “I am disappointed that I am able to predict human politics to that extent.”

“Don’t be. You’re better than all of them,” you said, drawing close to his side. He smiled down at you.

“Hearing you say that means a lot.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Do you have to leave now?” he asked, still holding you close.

“I should get going,” you said, though you didn’t move. He tilted your head back and kissed you. It was a surprisingly delicate and gentle kiss, but you couldn’t keep your mind on it. Half your thoughts were focused on trying to hear if there was anything outside the door. There was a soft clunk and you broke away, heart pounding. Davrakoss didn’t say anything. He had gotten used to your jumpiness.

“No one’s there,” he said, guiding your attention back toward him. “I would tell you.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “Trust me.”

“I do trust you. I just…” You trailed off, swallowing against the anxiety that swelled up into your throat. “I should go.”

Davrakoss stepped back with a sigh. “I will see you later, then.” He hesitated, then swooped in for another quick kiss. You had the urge to grab onto him, but you were pretty sure that even the smallest errant movement would ruin all the hard work you’d put into his outfit. Instead, you gave his hand a squeeze and left the room.

By the time the ball was ready to begin, you were thoroughly tired of the pale blue and white decorations that covered the ballroom. You were also physically exhausted from the effort of putting up all the decorations. Unfortunately, servants were also required to attend the ball as servers, which meant walking around with a tray and usually getting yelled at by drunken nobles. It was the lesser of two evils, really.

Nobles filtered in as soon as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Most of them were lesser nobles who were unimportant enough to simply attend without announcement. However, many of the royalty from other kingdoms needed formal introductions.

It was a long, boring ceremony, but you paused in your slow rotation of the ballroom floor when Davrakoss’ name was announced. “Prince of the Wyverns, Davrakoss.” A low murmur swept through the room as he descended into the ballroom proper.

The low light made the jewels on his robe glitter and gleam and his expression was aloof and ethereal. Despite the efforts to make him more human, he looked greater and more terrible than any person you’d seen before. His eyes almost glowed with fire. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

A few of the other members of royalty gathered around him as he stepped into the ballroom, blocking him from view. You continued circling the room, gradually shifting closer to Davrakoss in the most nonchalant way you could.

He was amidst a throng of chattering royalty, looking blessedly aloof rather than uncomfortable. Still, when he saw you, his expression relaxed a little. He moved closer to you, under the pretense of grabbing a glass of wine. He couldn’t speak to you without drawing attention, but he managed to convey both a sort of pained irritation and happiness at the sight of you. His fingers brushed yours as he took a glass.

You retreated again and Davrakoss returned to the crowd of royals. You caught sight of him a few more times as you rotated through the ballroom. He was nearly always surrounded by other royals. Once, late into the night, you saw him out on the dance floor. He was swaying in a slow circle with a princess you vaguely recognized as the third daughter of a northern king. Despite his little practice, he was able to hold his own. At the very least, the princess seemed happy and he wasn’t stepping on her feet.

They stepped off the dance floor and another princess approached him. He took her hand and graciously returned to the dance. Your stomach knotted. It was strange. You had never been jealous of nobles before, not in this way. But watching Davrakoss smile down at the woman in his arms made you feel a little sick.

You left the ballroom to refill your drink tray. Jealousy and exhaustion mingled in an emotional combination that made your eyes sting.

There was a rustling noise behind you and you straightened, wiping off your eyes. Before you could pretend to be getting more drinks, the person who had entered the room walked over to you.

“Are you all right?” You jumped a little. Davrakoss was leaning over you, eyes gentle.

“What are you doing back here?” you hissed. “This area is only for servants.” Davrakoss grinned.

“Yes, so hopefully no one will think to look for me back here.” He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you into a shaded and secluded corner. “You look lovely.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” you said. You were wearing servants clothing, but it was dark blue instead of its usual black to fit with the ballroom aesthetic.

“It still looks nice on you,” he said. “And it’s probably more comfortable than this getup.” He gestured to his own outfit with a sour expression.

“Probably,” you admitted. “You really should go back out there. You’re going to be disappointing so many of those noblewomen that were hanging onto you.”

Davrakoss laughed quietly. “There is only one woman I care about disappointing,” he said, ducking his face close to yours. “They’re nice, but I don’t think for a second that they care more about me than about my title.” He looked at you with gleaming, reverent eyes. “You, on the other hand…”

“You’re very sweet,” you said, accepting a kiss, “but we really should be getting back to the ball.”

He wrinkled his nose a little and gave you another kiss before sweeping back out to the dance floor. You took a few minutes to allay suspicion and refill your drinks before following him back out into the fray.

The night stretched on and on until finally the sun started to rise. You were nearly dead on your feet at that point. Still, you managed to smile as you herded several very drunk nobles out of the ballroom and toward their carriages.

Davrakoss approached you as you returned to the ballroom. “I am requesting that my servant attend me,” he said in a pretty passable impression of a snooty noble. You smothered a yawn and nodded. He led you out of the ballroom, toward his room.

As soon as you were in the secluded staircase that led to Davrakoss’ room, he seized you and lifted you into his arms. You yelped, automatically putting your arms around his neck. “You’re exhausted,” he said. “You need to go to bed.”

“I’ve got my own room,” you protested weakly.

“And you look exhausted enough to collapse before you even made it halfway,” Davrakoss said. “I am entirely capable of sleeping on the floor.” He shifted you carefully in his arms so he could open the door to his room.

“You don’t have to,” you mumbled, but you weren’t looking forward to actually walking all the way back to the servant’s quarters. “At least let me help you out of your clothes first.”

Davrakoss lifted his brows, but you were too tired to even protest against the implication. With fumbling fingers, you undid the buttons and straps of his robes until he was wearing nothing but his underclothes. Then you had to take several minutes to fully unpin and unravel his hair, sending it cascading down his back.

“Let me,” he said when you finally started to pull off your own gown. His fingers tickled against your back as he undid each button and you wriggled free from the dress. It should have been embarrassing to stand in front of him in nothing but your underdress, but you were too tired. You swayed slightly just standing still.

“Lie down,” Davrakoss said, half carrying you over to his bed. You fell into it and he pulled the covers up around you. It was ridiculously comfortable even when you weren’t tired. Getting to rest in it when solid stone would have made a nice bed felt ridiculously luxuriant. You felt it sink slightly as Davrakoss sat next to you. His fingertips trailed through your hair and along your back. “Get some rest, love,” he said. You couldn’t even lift your eyelids again, but you managed to find his hand with yours. His fingers squeezing yours was the last thing you felt before you slipped into unconsciousness.