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iiraven · 3 years

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Fool-Proof Plan

Pairing: Erwin x reader

Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU

Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play

Word count: 4.6K

Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.

Masterlist

Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.

There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.

“So, you just take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And people respond to it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright but why?”

The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.

It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.

“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”

“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll call you every day.”

It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable.

Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.

“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.

Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.

Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.

Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.

It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.

This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.

One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”

“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”

So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.

But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.

The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.

Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.

You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.

You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.

Something stops that from happening.

Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.

Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears.

Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.

After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.

Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.

You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.

Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”

You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.

“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.

“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”

The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.

“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.

Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.

He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.

You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”

Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer.

“Oh?”

Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.

“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.

“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”

“I-I mean...yeah…”

“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”

He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.

“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”

You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.

“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.

“Good girl.”

Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt.

“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.

Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.

“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”

“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.

As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.

“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”

You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”

Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.

Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.

“Erwin wai-“

And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.

“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.

He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.

You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.

He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.

The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.

“I missed you too.”

Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.

“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”

He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”

Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”

Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”

His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”

He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily.

It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.

“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.

When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.

His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”

The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.

Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.

Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.

“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”

He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”

“No- you have a degradation kink.”

“Yes, that too.”

Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”

Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.

“It’s not?”

“No!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?”

“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”

“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”

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sukirichi · 3 years

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earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?!

taglist open:

@tete027 @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch @riri-marley | bolded users cannot be tagged

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aiekerman · 3 years

Text

Easy - Eren Jaeger

Eren Jaeger x Reader - fluff, college!au

AN - If you saw me post this before, no you didn’t. But in actuality it is a repost I just changed it to second person oops. But anyway, hopefully anyone who sees it for the second time likes it again lol.

(A part 2 and/or prequel does exist for this in my brain if anyone was ever interested!)

Song vibes: Easy by Troye Sivan ft. Kasey Musgraves

Summary - Just a pair of friends that definitely do not like each other. But leave their rooms at midnight for each other with no hesitation, and know each other’s food orders, and are low-key affectionate with each other. A pair of friends.

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Y/N: Hey :)

Eren drags his head out of his textbook as his phone goes off. Pushing stray hairs back off his forehead and out of his eyes. His tired eyes lit slightly at the sight of your name. His fingers quickly replying

Eren: Hey u

He glances at the time, 12.03 am, he frowns, worried whyyou were awake so late. Three bubbles appear on his screen as he waits for your reply to arrive.

Y/N: U up?

Eren: I’m texting u back aren’t I?

Her reply takes slightly longer this time, and his mouth crooks up at the side, picturing the eye roll you were most definitely doing.

Y/N: Shut up

You know what I mean

Eren: Yeah I’m up

Last minute studying

He pulls the phone from its charger and leans back in his chair, one foot against the desk leg and swinging back slightly. You take a little longer to reply and his eyes drift to the top of the screen where your contact picture is. His mouth betrays him again and a smile ghosts over it.

The picture is simple. A candid of you sat proudly in front of a sandcastle you were making at the beach during spring break. Your legs splayed either side of it, covered in sand. You were smiling up at someone, probably Sasha, your hair a wavy, salty mess, blowing in the sea breeze.

Your reply finally comes, vibrating the phone in his hand and dragging him from his thoughts. He rolls his eyes at your message.

Y/N: Midnight Taco Bell run? :)

Eren: Have you been smoking?

Y/N: No I just also happen to be doing midnight work and have a craving

His fingers move to reply before another message comes through, very quickly, and he pauses.

Y/N: And I miss your dumb face

Eren: You mean my pretty face?

Y/N: I change my mind I’m asking Jean

Eren: Shut up I’m getting ready now

Y/N: :))

Eren chucks the phone over to his bed, staring at his textbook for a second. He knows he should keep studying, or better yet, go to bed. But he misses you too. He stands from the seat and shuffles around his room, quietly as possible. Armin was definitely asleep and would definitely make a dumb comment about Eren being whipped for someone he wasn’t even dating.

Eren brushes off the thought and pulls his sneakers on, swaps his gym shorts for sweatpants and scrapes his hair back into the best bun he can manage.

After wandering out of his room he grabs his keys and wallet from by the door and shuts it over with the quietest click he can manage.

On his walk to his car he sends one more text.

Eren: Getting in the car now

Eren: I’ll be like 10 mins

Y/N: I’ll be the cute one in pyjamas ;)

He laughs at the flirtatious message before switching on his car and driving off.

His mind doubles back to what would be Armin’s comments on the situation. They weren’t dating, but flirting between friends was entirely normal. He shakes off feeling the need to justify his relationship with you. You were friends, best friends. That almost hooked up once. The first time you met. But now you were just friends.

Before he even realises it he’s pulling up at the kerb by your building, his eyes glancing up to the door and watching a shadowy figure emerge. His head leans back against the headrest when her form comes into the dim street lights.

You’re dressed the same as him, sweatpants hugging your hips and an oversized hoodie drowning your top half. He squints for a second, was that his hoodie? Nah, it probably wasn’t, you had similar taste in hoodies anyway. You push the hood back when you reach the car, a mess of hair tumbling out around your face. It resembled a bedhead, but he knew you well enough to conclude you’d been sleepily running hands through it all night to make the mess. Tugging at the roots in efforts to stay focused on whatever it was you were working on.

You tug the door open and pull yourself into the seat. Situating yourself before turning to him and pushing your glasses up her nose, foregoing contacts at this hour, ‘Hi.’

He smiles down at your smaller form, ‘Hey you.’

‘Let’s get going.’

He raises an eyebrow at you, watching you slide down in the seat. Your eyes are wide as you stare back, ‘What?’

‘Seatbelt.’

You roll your eyes and push yourself back up, reaching for the seatbelt, ‘Yes, mother.’

Hearing the belt click in place he pulls off, satisfied with your safety being secured.

You grab his phone from the cupholder, and push it under his face slightly, not obstructing his view but close enough for him to give it a quick glance and unlock his face ID for you. You start scrolling spotify and find your combined playlist, made with midnight food runs in mind. RnB starts flowing out of his speakers.

Dropping the phone back in the cupholder you turn to look at his profile, ‘So what you been studying for?’

‘Psychology final, not until next week but after I kinda bombed the midterm I don’t wanna be caught off guard. You?’

‘Final project is due in two weeks. I’ve kinda got it finished but I’m not sure.’

He smiles, knowing you were just being a perfectionist about it.

‘Am I gonna get to read it?’

‘Why do you want to?’ You laugh at him, looking over at his profile that was focused on the road ahead, but seeing his lip was pulled up in a smirk.

‘Cause you haven’t shut up about it all year, I wanna know if all the support snacks I’ve bought you have been worth it.’

You scrunch up your face and shove it down into the hoodie you were adorned in. It smelt like Eren. Wait, was this his hoodie?

‘Huh, nothing to say back?’ His grin is too smug as he steals a look at you. You glare up at him, ‘Shut up.’

Silence settles over you in the last minutes before you approach the destination. You push yourself up to sit when the glowing sign comes into view, your eyes lighting up again.

‘Drive thru or sit in?’ Eren questions, approaching slowly as he waits for an answer.

‘Sit in, please.’ He nods before swinging into a parking spot.

You both jump out and Eren rounds the car to your side, bumping you with his hip in greeting now you were out of the car. His hands are stuffed in his pockets but you grab hold of his sweatshirt sleeve gently as you start joking about how you had to sneak out without setting off Sasha’s food radar.

Inside you bounce ahead of him slightly, up to one of the self serve screens and start ordering. He smiles softly at how you had to shuffle the too-long hoodie sleeve up to let your hand emerge.

He comes behind you and places his chin on top of your head, watching as you confidently tapped at the different items.

‘You haven’t asked what I wanted yet.’

‘I know your Taco Bell order, idiot.’

‘Maybe I want something different this time.’

‘No you don’t.’

The screen goes black for a second while loading the checkout and he glances at your reflection. You push your glasses up your nose, looking up and sticking your tongue out at him when you see his eyes already on you.

He smiles before ruffling at your already messy hair and standing back to pull out his wallet. Glancing up, he catches you doing the same and suddenly moves quicker, as do you. Whipping out his bank card and reaching around you to tap it on the terminal, the familiar beep of a successful transaction going off before you can push your card in the bottom slot.

Eren grins in triumph while you stuff your wallet back in the hoodie and grumble, ‘Stupid contactless card.’

You pull the receipt from the machine while he walks over towards a booth, dropping into the seat and stretching his legs out while watching you.

Your hands are shoved into the hoodie, you sway and shuffle around on you feet. Standing still was never one of your strong suits.

A smile takes over Eren’s face as you yawn and rubs at your eyes, pulling the hood up over your head and pulling at the strings slightly. He chuckles at the image of your head being swallowed. You turn at the sound and frown at him, mouthing out ‘don’t laugh at me.’ Prompting his laughter to continue on.

He settles back in the booth when their number is called and you wander up to accept the tray of food.

Dropping yourself down across from him, the two of you automatically begin splitting out their food, almost instinctively knowing which packages were for who; Eren always had the nachos, you never deviated from fries.

You ate in silence for just a moment before you pick up conversation again, ‘Are you gonna go to Jean’s party after finals?’

‘So bold of you to assume Jean could pull off a decent party without me.’ He smiled, stuffing a bite of his burrito in his mouth as you giggle. ‘What about you?’

‘I mean yeah probably, if everyone else is going.’

‘Well, Jean has got me and Connie roped in to help with set up, so Connie will make Sasha go, and Sasha will make Mikasa go, who will make Armin go, who will make sure I don’t flake off early and I’ll make sure you stay.’

‘Connie and I.’ You correct, reaching for your drink.

‘Shut up.’

‘Also, Eren Jaeger flaking early from a party is wholeheartedly unheard of.’

‘I left the last one early because someone needed to be walked home after throwing up.’

You pause with the straw at your mouth, eyes narrowing in a glare.

‘You can’t get too messy this time anyway. Bertolt is gonna be there.’

You scrunch up your face in confusion, ‘Why’d you say his name like that.’

‘Because, you haven’t got laid since spring break, he’s cute and you said you guys have gotten super close from your fiction writing class.’

You roll your eyes at the tall boy’s explanation and shrug, ‘He’s kinda cute. I guess. And we haven’t gotten super close, we barely knew each other before the class.’

‘Exactly, he’s at perfect arm’s length for a hook up. You deserve it after all the stressing you’ve done this semester.’

You shrug again. Setting your drink back on the table and leaning back, your feet stretching out to bump against Eren’s, you think about it.

Eren watches you, yourr eyes staring out into space. Bertolt was cute, he didn’t get around that much from what Eren had heard of the boy, but he was sweet enough that he knew he could trust him with you, even just for a night.

But even as he looked you over, dark circles beginning to shadow under your eyes, figure swamped in your loungewear and hot sauce staining one edge of your mouth. You were way out of Bertolt’s league.

‘You’re probably way too good for him anyway.’

‘Even just for a hookup?’ Your eyes meet his green ones, your mouth showing a teasing smile starting to form.

He stuffs more burrito in his mouth and nods.

‘You think I’m too good for everyone.’

He swallows and reaches for his drink, ‘cause you are.’

‘Was I too good for you, is that why you didn’t have sex with me?’ You start grinning and laughing as he chokes on his drink. He leans an elbow on the table as he coughs, glaring at you through his lashes.

Eren sticks a hand out at you and gestures for you to cough it up. You pull a dollar from your wallet and stuffs it in his hand.

He imagines it’s the same dollar he gave you last week after he joked about your almost hook up. The metaphorical ‘don’t talk about the time we almost had sex’ jar was essentially the same dollar passed back and forth.

‘Was that one worth it?’ He raises an eyebrow at your giggling face as you reaches to open your crunchwrap, nodding in a satisfied manner.

You hold the hexagonal taco in your small hands and Eren chuckles. You eye him, taking your first bite and speaking out a muffled, ‘What?’

‘Your tiny hands always make those things look huge.’

‘Maybe your meaty boy’s hands just make it look small.’

He sticks a hand out in front of you, palm spread out to show the full size, ‘My hands are not meaty. And they’re no bigger than average.’

‘What are you talking about?’ You mirror him, lifting your hand to press a palm against his, the tips of your fingers just brushing above the second knuckle.

‘Your hands are just tiny.’

‘No, they only look small because yours are huge.’

You both fall silent, two sets of eyes trained on your pressed together hands. Eren ignores the feel of his heart pounding up against his chest.

What was wrong? They’d held hands before?

The ring of your phone blaring out an alarm drew both of them from the trance. Eren slid his fingers to interlock with your’s, playfully pushing your hand back towards your body.

‘Who’s calling you at this hour?’

‘No one, I, uh, I set an alarm for one thirty am. Otherwise we’d sit here all night, knowing the two of us.’

He lets out a small laugh, nods in agreement and starts to gather up your trash. His eyes run over your face just before standing, choosing not to make fun of the blush gracing your cheeks.

You stand and fall in stride next to him, bumping his hips with your own and poking his side, ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Got your eye on anyone for Jean’s party?’

‘Nah, I’d rather just chill. I’ll probably spend half the night making sure Jean stays relatively sober for his own party.’ You laugh at the idea, nodding your head fervently. Jean usually ended up the messiest of the bunch.

The exit into the cold night air, and your body is immediately taken over with shivers. Eren rolls his eyes but loops an arm around your shoulder, his own body a constant furnace. You hum in appreciation, leaning into his side as he rubs at your arm.

Climbing into the car, he blasts the heat. This time you pull on your seatbelt with no need for prompting, your head turning to stare up at him, the raise of her eyebrows translating to You happy?

He stays quiet, pulling on a cheesy grin that answers back, Very.

You flop back into your seat, a yawn overtaking you and the heat of the car soothing you The effort to keep your eyes open immediately doubled.

‘You can close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we get to your building.’

You look at him with a sorry expression, ‘But I dragged you out I shouldn’t-’

‘Sleep, idiot,’ he cuts you off, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to run over your hair, long fingers running through it. Always a surefire way to make you sleepy.

You drift off quickly, a smile softly laid on your cheeks.

Eren feels his heart beating hard once again. He swallows it down. Focuses on the road. Just friends was easier.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #aot x reader #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff #snk x reader #snk imagines #eren fic #eren jeager fluff #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger fic #eren jeager fic

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valkyriegoddesses · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on ACOSF

⚠️ SPOILERY, SO DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK ⚠️

⚔️ the good and the bad, I’ll try to get rid of the bad thoughts first and keep the positive ones for the end but idk where my line of thought would go as I recall and type so here we go

• Nesta’s journey of healing is hers and hers alone. She owes no one in the inner circle anything, they didn’t do her any favors. (Now before I delve into this, I just want to say that I see they (Feyre and Elain only) had good intentions, but I’m going to point out everywhere it went wrong, probably against what they planned, but still it went horribly wrong) She was still suffering all the same after she got her free will stripped from her, the decision made for her by packing her things without informing her or listening to her opinion or trying to have a more lenient approach to the matter, being threatened that her second option is being thrown to the human lands where she could die, being lied to about the consequences of her actions in law, being told she “belongs in the Hewn City”, being told she’s “a pathetic waste of life”, and choosing the place everyone admits they hate going to aka the House of Wind, as her destination to heal. Knowing full well she can’t make the descent down these stairs and would be imprisoned without the power to winnow. And instead of being given her space and time, they push her to talk and interact when all she’s trying to do is have some distance from everyone. Some time to herself, to not feel anything, to control the storm of thoughts raging on the inside. And she’s pushed time and time again to face her trauma and heal RIGHT NOW because apparently, they’re timing her. And she shouldn’t have her emotions on display, when she tells them she doesn’t feel like talking yet she’s forced to interact and socialize. Anyone who’s been forced to interact against their will knows how draining it is. Now imagine this coupled with being triggered by water, and being triggered by fire, which are a daily necessity. And imagine everyone got a decade or more to deal with their trauma and are still not entirely healed, yet your time is up after little over a year. It sucks. And I hate how what triggered them to action wasn’t that she was wasting away to nothing, but the bill. When the bill was high, they drew the line. And I hate how in the narrative, the “conversation” -even though I wouldn’t call it that because only one side was allowed to talk and the other side wasn’t allowed to object- was written in a way that made it about THEIR image, when she’s frequenting taverns. THEIR image, when she doesn’t show up to their parties. THEIR image when the bill for her drinking is high. (They say it’s too much money, as if they don’t have all the riches and they all spend money on things that are absolutely not necessary, and THEY drowned her with gifts, LOADS of gifts, after she sacrificed her power to save her sister, which she didn’t do for payment, but anyway the thought is, they had the money and just like they thought Amren deserves payment for what she did in the war, they should’ve kept the same energy for Nesta because she had no small role in that either). I just think they handled it badly. Not exactly how you’d talk to someone suffering from PTSD, depression and survivor’s guilt. For one, threatening a worse alternative isn’t helpful. Secondly, There were way too many people in that room. More than necessary. Feyre and Elain would’ve been enough AS HER FAMILY (and I’ll get to details on this in a moment). And Feyre was the only decent one handling it as someone who actually was looking for a better outcome and really had the intention to help, someone who wasn’t there just to humiliate. Amren and Rhys were only there to land jabs and poke at her insecurities and bad coping mechanisms. Rhys used his power on her to force her to obey him and we all know how it’s a big NO among them. Many of those in the IC had worse coping mechanisms. But what she was doing was too much for them to handle? She was self-destructing. And she kept her distance. If I told someone I needed my space and they kept poking their head in my business, I sure as hell would lash out. When someone needs space, their privacy should be respected. No matter how long it takes them.

And I don’t see where the problem with her drinking was. She never showed up to events drunk. We never saw her hungover the day after. She was spending some money on drinking yes, but it did not get out of hand. She was also spending money on food and gambling. All in all, not the worst coping mechanism among those who were criticizing her. Not to mention that everyone who criticized her were drinkers as well, and they all slept around during some part of their lives.

Now the problem with the presence of other people in that room, other than Feyre (if Elain didn’t wish to attend and preferred to have some space between her and and Nesta, it’s her choice) anyway, only Feyre’s presence was required. Everyone else there was just an accessory, only adding stress to the atmosphere, forcing Nesta to get on the defensive with the way they slut shamed her, shamed her for drinking, shamed her for not being able to take a bath even though she told Feyre how the water still scares her, etc. I can see Sarah wanted it to look like a “family” intervening. Like some tough love sort of thing. But she failed. Simply because, the IC might be Feyre’s found family and she might take such a talk from them because it would really be tough love. As for Nesta, she doesn’t view them as family. She barely knows them. So for a group of strangers, or let’s say newly acquainted people, to sit around her and point out her every flaw and shame her for every misstep, who wouldn’t lash out at that? It’s enough she’s forced to spend time among them, on holidays she doesn’t really believe in, where they force her to attend but actively ignore her presence and treat her like a ghost. Why make her come if they don’t enjoy her company? It’s just ridiculous. Then when she gets angry from all the pushing and lashes out and it’s entirely her fault. they’re all like “come to our gatherings where we will insult you, nitpick all your unhealthy coping mechanisms, but don’t be offended and seclude yourself, we all took decades to deal with our trauma and killed people while doing it but your coping mechanisms are unhealthy. And your actions are unforgivable because you lash out at us when we shove ourselves down your throat. How can you not like us? Everyone has to like us.” Then she gets thrown away to a war camp, a FUCKING WAR CAMP, while a big part of her trauma is because of war. And instead of dealing with her face-to-face, while being gentle and showing her they’re on her side WITHOUT JUDGEMENT, WITHOUT WINCING AND GLANCES AT EACH OTHER AND INNER CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HER WHERE SHE’S EXCLUDED, they’re like “we’re tired of your shit so here’s a house you can stay in while you sort this out away from our merry little circle, which has its nose up your business anyway. But still, sort it out away from us.” And in that house she became more and more closed off and her healing - and I will die on this hill - her healing DID NOT start until the house came into play which was her own doing. And it kicked off because of Emerie and Gwyn, who both didn’t judge her, didn’t demonize her, didn’t only see the bad in her, but accepted her as she was and loved every part of her. Showed her that she was not a waste of life and there are things to live for. As for the beloved inner circle? Beyond insulting her and her coping mechanisms, They don’t tell her about the weapons SHE made, because pro-colonization Amren doesn’t think it’s wise, that Nesta would use it against the world. (Amren do you hear how stupid you sound?) they always villianize her, assuming she’d be out to take the world and take revenge on everyone who ever glanced her way. They assumed she was bad, they assumed because she was angry, that she would use her power for killing and terrorizing and building an Empire like they all do. When all she wanted to do was listen to music and be around good company who passed her no judgement.

Anyway, getting into some details with each character:

Feyre: I hated Feyre’s “crying over scrambled eggs because my image is destroyed my sister spent so much money on drinking”. And the fact that when telling Nesta she was doing this for her own good, she told her she was embarrassed for her own image in the same breath. But beyond that I was fine with her. I loved her reconcilation with Nesta. I loved that she was one who wanted to give Nesta more time, recognized that she needed her own time. I love them together. I think without everyone’s interference, their reconcilation would’ve happened much faster. They were already making progress before ~some people~ ruined everything and caused Nesta to be closed off again. I don’t hate that Nesta sacrificed her power to save Feyre in the end. She’s her sister and she loves her and this is not the first time she proved this. She would do anything to protect her sisters and she hates herself for the times she misstepped. Even though it wasn’t her fault and there was a full grown man sitting there who conveniently got a redemption arc. What angers me though, is that it was only after this, that the inner circle viewed her as someone who is worth their respect. And made the sacrifice materialistic by drowning Nesta with gifts. She didn’t do it for their acceptance or for their love, or for payment. She did it because her sister needed help. Period. (Sidenote: I’m writing a post where I delve deep into their relationship, which I will eventually post, because I think I reached an understanding about their relationship)

Elain: let me get something out of the way, she has power. She has free will, she’s not a baby. She’s a grown woman who doesn’t need coddling. I hate how the fandom views her as a baby. And she’s constantly infantilized, preventing her from reaching her full potential. Now that that’s out of the way, here are my 2 cents on her, since she wasn’t in this book much: Nesta’s wording was very clear, yet I’ve seen this scene misread all over the timeline. Nesta said “I sat by your side for weeks. Weeks, while you wasted away, refusing food and drink. While you appeared to hope you’d just wither and die. No one suggested you either shape up or be shipped back to the human lands.” Nesta’s problem is NOT that Elain wasn’t “there” as in “by her side”. She explicitly stated she needed space. Nesta’s problem was that she stood between Elain and anyone who might tell her to snap out of it and lock her trauma in some dark room in the back of her head. She made sure Elain had her time. While Elain agreed to pack her bags and didn’t prevent them from shipping her away, deciding her time was up. All she wants is time, and Elain didn’t have her back on this. Then we have the fact that Elain slut-shamed Nesta. And then when Nesta comes to the party this time, Elain meets her at the door and her reaction instead of saying hi and leaving it at that or simply ignoring her, is “did Feyre pay you this time?” I’m torn on where to stand on the Elain-Nesta situation, a part of me is disappointed in Elain. I think she should’ve handled this better than anyone else because she was there, she witnessed the trauma happen, Nesta was there for her, they grew up being inseparable the entire time. If anyone should understand her better than anyone else, it’s Elain. So why did she abandon her to everyone’s judgement? And a part of me is like maybe she knew whatever she voted wouldn’t matter because the IC were taking the step anyway, and didn’t want to be there when it happened. Or maybe she’s still dealing with her own trauma in her own way and doesn’t want a confrontation. But I always circle back to the sl*t-shaming and the shaming about the drinking, and then I think about the Solstice scene where as soon as she saw her she was like “did Feyre pay you this time?” And a part of me is angry about the shaming undertone of that too, while some part of me thinks that maybe Elain felt unwanted along with everyone else and that in order for Nesta to meet them, she has to be paid, but we will never know unless we hear it from her.

Rhysand: that piece of shit, misogynist, who used his powers to compel Nesta to obey his orders, pulled rank on her, taunted and threatened her every step of the way and utilized her for his own agenda, and was *surprised* to learn the woman has trauma. Took him being inside her head and unable to wake her up from the nightmare, because the behavior she was exhibiting wasn’t enough. [insert shocked pickatchu meme]. I also would like to add that him playing the protective love interest from his mate’s own sister, WHO COULD’VE HARMED HER IF SHE WANTED TO, but never wanted to because she’s not a bad person, is so cheap. Like- you, the guy who drugged her and made her give you lap dances, are afraid for her sake… from her sister? Who only ever used words as jabs and is generally rude? Or do you feel like you’re overpowered and are trying to fill the void in your toxic masculinity and reassert dominance ?

Cassian: He was patient with her, and probably the healthiest person in the inner circle who dealt with her until she was okay, but he still silently agreed with all the shit that was said about her. Shit she didn’t deserve to be said about her as someone going through trauma. He mocked whatever progress she made on the stairs calling it pathetic in the beginning. He stayed silent when Nesta was stripped of her will, when she was told she belongs in the Court of Nightmares, when her fate was decided for her, when she was being lied to, when she was threatened to be thrown to the humans who would kill her. He made some progress and understood her better with time, but it doesn’t excuse how he stayed silent when she was being mistreated. Specially since he claims her loves her. He also stayed silent as the Inner Circle despised her presence but still used her to reach what they’re plotting for. He progressed, and he got better, I’ll give him that. But still, as someone who claims he loves her the way he does, he shouldn’t have allowed his friends to manipulate and use her in their schemes but then exclude her from everything else, even knowledge about her own power. But I love that he was patient, that he worked to understand her, that he grew to stand up for her. I would argue that they are the healthiest ship written by SJM this far.

Mor: fucking Mor, who experienced trauma, told Nesta she belongs in the court of Nightmares. Where she was abused herself. Knowing women are viewed as objects there, knowing Nesta would recieve abuse there. She said that, wishing abuse on someone who she simply didn’t like and had some quarrels with. They never saw eye to eye and that’s fine. They always had sharp tongues when talking to each other and that’s fine. What’s not fine though, is that THIS of all things, seemed so out of character for Mor. Now, she never knew Nesta was a survivor of SA. But as someone who helps SA victims, she’s the last person I expected such a comment from. It felt very out of character. I hate that this is the Bi character in all of this mess. Of all people, a hypocrite is the Bi person. The LGBTQ community deserves better. I thought about it, and maybe Mor, being like a stranger to Nesta, and seeing her ignore Cassian in front of the Illyrians who already look down on him, made her angry to the point where she just wanted to land a jab and didn’t think her words would mean anything. Maybe all she wanted to do was stand up for Cassian, but what she said was definitely not true and not okay. I wanted her and Nesta to have a talk about it, but also she grew to have decent conversations with her and she helped her when she and Cassian had that fight. So I don’t know, maybe it’s a silent progress between them.

Amren: this one told her she was a waste of life. What a great way to deal with someone who’s suffering from PTSD and depression and having suicidal thoughts, Amren. Tell them they’re a waste of life, enforce every thought they are having as fact, push them to the point where they doubt they should be breathing, and when they’re told they could tumble down a mountain and break their bones while hiking, their first thought would be “good”. Amren deserves a medal, a badge of honor for being the 500+ old woman who has healthy ways of dealing with traumatized people telling them they don’t deserve to live because the thoughts of their power and dealing with controlling that power right now is so overwhelming. Amren, who decided that because Nesta was always angry, she had no right to know that she used her power unknowingly and forged powerful weapons. Amren, who was pushing for colonization throughout this book, was afraid of Nesta misusing her power. Villainizing Nesta’s every thought, as if Nesta wasn’t overwhelmed from the thought of possessing so much power, as if Nesta doesn’t refuse to use her powers and train. As if Nesta is out there hiding as she masters her power to reemerge and turn the world upside down. You’re the one who’s pushing Rhys to colonize other territories and become high king, Amren. Maybe *you* should be locked up in the house of wind for therapy. What hurts most in this is Amren was her friend. She trusted Amren. Amren said that shitty line to her and then lied to her and manipulated her and used her to further Rhys’s agenda. She flopped from telling Feyre that Nesta is immortal and a few years are nothing, and she should be given time. She would not betray her trust, to whatever she turned into in ACOSF. And everyone give SJM a round of pats on the back and an applause for making Amren the wise one here and making Nesta, the traumatized one who was wronged, get on her knees and apologize. I mean- if you thought this apology scene was necessary, then clarification about the fight between them was just as necessary. Or you include neither scene. But deeming the apology important and not the incident? This is some victim blaming on a whole other level.

The House of Wind: The house of wind was honestly one of the best parts of this book. It was Nesta, “Lady Death” as they call her, breathing life into something, and it was gentle, and it was patient, and it was understanding, and it pushed her to be healthier without judging, without throwing insults or slut-shaming. It hated that she didn’t eat? It kept waiting for her until her body gave out and she had to eat. It didn’t like her drinking? It gave her water when she asked for wine. It showed her its darkest part where she found the greatest warmth as well, as if saying don’t be ashamed of your darkness because in it you’ll find light, and it didn’t abandon her or stop responding to her when she was angry. It was actively by her side, without any judgement, only support and pushing her to fix the behaviours without dissing her. and it was everything those people around her weren’t. It was family.

Gwyn: their first meeting wasn’t at all what you would call “friendly”, to a fault by Nesta. Gwyn didn’t even know anything about Nesta, yet she didn’t react with even more anger as ~others~ did, she didn’t fear Nesta, or give a retort, or get angry and lash out at her. She took the blow and was, with all the calm in the world, like fine, you want to tell on me, go tell. And Nesta did go tell on her, then realized by herself how she acted rashly. And later helped Gwyn without being asked to, by swapping the book so Merrill doesn’t scold her. And their friendship grew to the point where Gwyn, a traumatized person who couldn’t dare leave the library, started training with her, was her friend and had conversations with her that didn’t center her trauma or her coping mechanisms being analyzed. She went out of the library for the first time in 2 years when she knew Nesta needed her by her side. She occupied her mind with stories of Valkyries, women being strong and unyielding in a society which didn’t allow it. She took her hand and gave her a purpose in life to work for. Gave her a friend who didn’t judge, a kind face in the maelstorm of judgemental faces. Until she felt like a safe space to Nesta to the point where she spilled all her thoughts, the ones she could only admit to herself, to Gwyn, letting her inside those walls. And when she braced for judgement, she didn’t receive it. Gwyn dealing with someone’s trauma, as someone who’s been through trauma herself, is one of the beautiful corners of this book

Emerie: Another woman with trauma. She sees Nesta enter her store, of course she knows who she is, yet she doesn’t judge her. Nesta asks about making the fatigues warmer, Emerie says she’ll ask, but it’s costly. Nesta says then she can’t afford it, admits that she was cut off, Emerie, as a stranger, doesn’t judge her. She says she could make them anyway and she can pay her as she can. Because no one should feel cold. It’s simple, irrelevant. Nesta wouldn’t freeze to death, she as a stranger has no obligation to help, it’s a simple reasoning. “You shouldn’t feel cold”. It’s enough for her to help Nesta. Something as mundane as feeling cold. She asks her to join her for a meal. And Nesta asks her if she would join the training, which Emerie refuses. and Nesta blurts out that she didn’t take her for a coward. And later, Nesta sends her the herbs she wishes to get which she can’t get often because of her location, and it’s a message of “you too deserve to see what’s best in the world, to go out and experience the beautiful parts and live, not just exist”. So Emerie goes to training with her as well, and they bond over romance novels. Emerie also reaches a point where she opens up about her own trauma, and tells the truth about what she faced and her survival. This girl who is 50-something at least, who has never had friends, living a lonely secluded life, finally found someone who was trustworthy enough to be around and form a bond with. As for the fact that she is a PoC, and the illyrians are portrayed as this group of savages who abuse their women and their women have no say in their lives and futures and how they clip their women’s wings, when wings, wingspan and wingplay heavily imply that wings are erogenous parts of the body and wing clipping seems to be the equivalent of Circumcision, which again so happens to be done by the “PoC savages who abuse their women”, hits a whole lot as fucking racist and xenophobic. PoC deserve a storyline where they’re not viewed as the villains.

Azriel: I loved his relationship with Nesta. He was the best chaperon™️, he never spoke in judgement toward her. There was a silent understanding between them. However, I’m not against him showing his feelings toward Elain or her toward him. It’s fine, if that’s what they both want. I don’t think Lucien is the type to call for a blood duel. He simply brings her presents and attends when invited, he doesn’t force himself on her and keeps his distance. However I did hate that Azriel took the necklace and gave it to Gwyn, as a secondhand. I know his only intention was to make her smile but the necklace wasn’t meant for her. It’s not a trial by error, he can’t just keep trying out with different women every time he fails with one. And I’ll just leave this here.

The elephant in the room: the entire IC is involved in this, them all blaming Nesta, framing her as the wrong person, when she told Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy? I don’t care if she did it while she was angry, her heart was in the right place. She got hurt from them deciding her fate without her involvement, voting on her, not once, but twice, about her fate because she wasn’t fast enough to deal with her trauma, then again when deciding if she should know about what she did with her own power and the weapons. and she showed Feyre what was really at play. Protecting her from what she faced with the Inner Circle. Just because she was angry while doing it does not mean she did it out of spite. She did it to expose them, specially Amren at that point. But I don’t get how it was twisted to “because she wanted to hurt Feyre”. She wasn’t even angry at Feyre. But you all would rather suck up to the Inner Circle than confront the fact that they’re hypocrites and liars with a propaganda. They’re evil. They fear Nesta using her power to seize control of everyone because it’s how THEY are. With all this High King crap. Basically colonization dreams. With how they press rank whenever it suits them, and lie about the law to win arguments. It’s because those who are inherently bad think everyone is bad just like them.

Other Elephants in the room which have been here a long time: the thing with blaming Nesta for not being the breadwinner… I could never get it. Some have money-earning skills, others don’t. She, at the point of her life when she was human, was only trained in dancing and appealing to men socially so she could uplift the family’s social status. She couldn’t hunt. Feyre could. And NEITHER, should’ve been the breadwinner. Nesta was willing to starve to death if it would push her father to do something. Feyre wasn’t willing to wait and starve or watch anyone starve. But it doesn’t mean Nesta was at fault. She was only 3 years older than Feyre. Let’s leave the “the oldest child has to step in for the parents when the parents fail” mentality in the past. It’s ridiculous. Nesta was under no obligation to be the breadwinner. And she suffered self-flagellation regularly for letting Feyre walk out there and hunt. But she literally had no skills that when she thought of something to do, she could only think of selling herself on the streets. The parents were abusive, both of them. Favoring one child over the other and planting rivalry between the siblings. “i love you” means nothing. NOTHING, when there is no action to prove it. And if anything, this book made me realize that Nesta was never okay. She was never in a good place mentally. I mean, I knew, but this book just proved it. Her mother favored her alright, but it was not in a loving way. She simply exploited her to climb the social ladder. She didn’t give her love, she gave her instructions. She enabled the grandmother to beat her, and instill some “harsher punishments” one of which Nesta still holds the scars for. She was called worthless, as a child. Why? Because she made a wrong step in a dance. She was physically and verbally abused, and her mother let it happen. Yet she was the only one who would give Nesta the time of day so Nesta still loved her. As a child, her mother was the only person who showed interest in her and she clung to. However twisted it was, it’s the only love she ever got. The only love she knew. Then she lost her. and later the family also lost their wealth. So all she was taught to do her entire life suddenly became meaningless because she can’t achieve what her mother “trained” her to do. And we know the rest of the story. She never felt at home, not even when her mother lived and she still had that wealth. She admitted as much. She was never fine. She might’ve appeared the part, but it was never true. And since she was so good at masking her emotions, nobody was the wiser.

side note: As for her power being the “bare minimum” now, there better not be a plothole, since Rhysand couldn’t contain merely the “surface of her power” because it was too much. and if that’s all she retained, then it’s good enough for me.

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hageny · 3 years

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Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

1. Personal.

It may get overlooked because it’s their first scene, but something interesting occurs between Gerri and Roman during their discussion here. Roman offers Gerri the chance to “step in and take the reigns” while Logan is incapacitated. Gerri, as we know, declines his offer, and it’s the reaction that Roman has that is the most interesting here. He reacts by fumbling almost angrily, inhaling and saying, “Uhhhh, okay...can uh, can I ask why?” Even the way he runs his hand through his hair is telling; rather than merely slicking it back, he makes a point of roughly grabbing at it, chuckling in an almost aggressive way as he tries to convince Gerri to take him up on his offer. This brings me to the point of this post: why do we assume that the beginning of their relationship--that is, Roman and Gerri’s--starts at the point at which we see it start? There is something clearly coy and personal here, something interesting about the fact that even in his first moments on screen, Roman is lobbying for Gerri to take the coveted position of CEO until a permanent replacement can be found. If Roman knows so little about Gerri, why would he do this? This also ties into what he says about Baird, at first not knowing who he is, and then when Gerri clarifies, Roman remembers a curious point about tortoises that’s never elaborated on. What Baird’s ‘tortoise thing’ is is not the issue, it’s that Roman, for some reason, knows about such a seemingly inconsequential detail and brings it up in conversation. This all, even in their first scene together, points to a relationship whose infancy is not at the point we assume it to be--namely, the beginning of the show--but may have its roots elsewhere, somewhere in the past. We don’t know what binds them together, why Roman already has an affinity for her, or why Gerri--during the disastrous shuttle launch--protects Roman and displays her loyalty to him. Who’s to say that what we see is what it is? Maybe the truth is more complex.

2. All the Sins.

A point that I think is also overlooked is Baird’s role--and by extension Gerri’s possible role and character--in the Cruises situation. We know that before Gerri, Baird was the General Counsel to Waystar, and while details are scant, we know that Lester held his position for a long time at Brightstar while Logan commandeered Waystar. We don’t know any specifics, but we do know that all three men were in positions of great power during the same time, and that it was a ‘team effort’, so to speak, that was taken to keep the scandals out of the public eye. This brings me to my point. A crucial insight to Gerri’s character that I see in her scene with Tom seems to get glossed over almost frustratingly. Gerri is, typically, by fans of the show, always cast in a good light, as someone who can ferry Waystar into the future, into a different, more positive environment. But really, who can say that Gerri has the character and moral compass to do this, or that she would want to? Gerri knows exactly what Tom is planning in Sad Sack Wasp Trap, which is to be honest with the public about the company’s short comings, and to make every effort to right the wrongs done in the past. Gerri--constantly depicted as a beacon of feminism within the fandom--has no interest in actually helping the women who were hurt by Lester when the opportunity arises, a trait she shares with Shiv, who only wants to help when it benefits herself and her image. One could argue that she may have complex reasons for not doing so--not wanting her daughters to find out about Baird’s possible involvement, knowing that moving forward with it at this point would be impossible--but it is what Gerri says to Tom that reveals her character. She tells him to simply eat the sins on the corpse and shut up about the scandal. We know, when she speaks to Greg later, that she is the one who manipulated Greg into sharing with her the details of what Tom was planning to do. Am I suggesting that Gerri is solely evil, full of nothing but malice? Absolutely not; I believe that we enjoy her and Roman together because she is like he is--complicated, full of conflicting characteristics, some good and some bad. My point is merely that when we cast Gerri as some sort of beacon of virtue, we miss out on seeing her in a fuller, deeper sense. We hold onto her virtuous characteristics--or what we see as her better sides--to try to manipulate ourselves into believing that Gerri is a victim in all that happens around her, but this is not the case. Gerri herself says that eating the sins is pleasurable, because “there are harder jobs and you get a fuck load of cake”. We don’t know what Gerri has done during her time at Waystar, what she has hidden--”You know where the bodies are buried, you probably buried them yourself”--gone along with, felt powerless to fight, but we do know that, in all the situations she ever found herself in, the crassness of eating sins was overridden by the narcissistic rewards she reaped for herself in the end, and that her conscience is, as far as we can tell, unbothered. Why make Gerri what she isn��t? Gerri is what she is whether we enjoy it or not: cold, cunning, loyal, tender-hearted, unhappy. We should remember that we see her softer, best sides at play in her relationship with Roman, but that doesn’t mean that that is all she is--it means that this is merely who she is now, in this relationship.

#gerri/roman #gerri x roman #gerri kellman #roman roy #succession #succesion hbo #hbo succession #succession thoughts

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oingo233 · 3 years

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Rapture is a Boy

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader

Warning: some angst sprinkled into this one, get ready for loads of it later, bitches like em’ sad, it’s me, I’m bitches. Also, there are some cuss words, nothing too bad though. Self-doubt, cheating is mentioned.

Authors note: I try to keep my writing(self inserts) gender, body type, ethnicity and house neutral/not specified. If I ever slip up please let me know so that I can change it. Remus’s/3rd POV is italicized, it switches back and forth briefly to better show the relationship and luv. Ahhh to be in love with Remus fricken Lupin....

Word Count: 2.6

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part One

**** Paper Skies and Butterflies ****

It was so hard to focus with the most tantalizing pair of eyes burning into my back. I’ve felt them from the second my professor started to drawl on about the “rich history of muggles and witches” at the very beginning of class, it was now nearing the end He was currently speaking passionately about the Witch Burnings. I can hear James, Sirius and Remus chatting quietly here and there but never once have those eyes of his left the back of my head.

Remus, your boyfriend was admiring the piece of apparel you stole from him in a rush this morning, one of his favorite sweaters. He almost curses himself for not giving it to you sooner, he thought you looked beautiful.

I try to focus on the lesson at hand “and as you all know, Wendelin the Weird was burned at the stake 47 times. All in, of course, all in a different disguise. No muggle will outsmart a witch everyone, especially not after my class...” He chuckles to himself smartly and this time I do turn back to Remus who rolls his eyes in response to the teacher, he breaks out into a huge grin as I try to hide my laughter.

I wish I could have heard the joke James just told because all 3 boys burst out laughing, only for the Professor to give them a mean look. Remus apologies for the three and they all shrug ‘cooly’ to one another when the class won’t advert their eyes, and continue conversation. I scoff to myself in a laugh of disbelief and wonder, how they’re able to stay so aloof and smart is beyond me. But I’ve spent enough study nights with the whole gang in the library to know that they are more like hard workers than they let on. They’re, in Sirius’s words exactly “...not daft pricks. Just pricks here and there, ya know to spice up the ancient bore that is this school.”

The class is now more on-edge after the Professors mood was slightly damped, and it was for this same reason I decided to fully commit myself to paying attention. But I was finished before I started, his eyes were back on me and now the smile Remus reserved just for me, as all lovers have one, is an image that won’t leave my trap of a mind. I gave up trying to pay attention long before, but a tickle on my cheek brought me back to life with new curiosity.

There, fluttering in front of my face is a beautiful origami butterfly. It lands briefly on my nose and my friend beside me began to giggle, she watched as Remus had his wand out and was instructing the little thing on where to go. His tongue stuck out in concentration but there was a ghost of a smile as he watched me laugh softly. My friends constantly envied our relationship, because they admired moments like these.

The butterfly soars down to my desk and lands, showing off it’s snow white wings before dropping and unfolding itself before me.

You look extra beautiful today. Must be that dazzling sweater you’re wearing. Who would have thought you have such wonderful taste?

-R

I giggle and blush at every sweet word, and yes even the arrogant remark about himself, because it is both funny and rare when he subtly appreciates himself. I just wish he could be as sincere in loving himself as he is to me.

Remus watches you as your blush and smile deepen in vibrancy each time you re-read his note. He could not contain his adoration if he tried, and it was his bright smile in your direction that caught the Professors attention. He watched with narrowed eyes, words still falling from his mouth about wizard and muggle interactions in History. He watched as you smirked, licked your lips, and leaned forward over a piece of paper. You flipped it and wrote a few words on the back before muttering a charm. He started to walk towards you, Remus watched with horror. He tried to signal to you but it was too late. You turned the paper into the shape of a star and it went darting into Remus’s direction. A shooting star.

The class fell awfully quite as I spun around with a devilish smile to see Remus’s reaction, but instead I was met with my professor towering over Remus and prying the note from his hands.

“No, sir-” The professor grunted and Remus spared you a quick look, you shook your head looking desperate. He turned back to your teacher and yanked the note back with a charming smile. “It’s just silly notes, Sir, really,” The class waited, everyone held their breath. When was the last time Remus denied so openly? Pranks. Yes, common business. But this open act of defiance over something as trivial as a note is a rarity from the Remus Lupin.

“Just a silly note then, huh? Wouldn’t mine me peaking at it then, huh, Mr.Lupin?” The teacher stared him down with bitter eyes, I looked at the pair and shrunk down while I spoke.

“S’ alright.” I laugh nervously. Remus hesitantly hands the note over and my face goes red. There was no way I’d let Remus get detention for a silly note, but I might just with the contents inside. I hoped on everything good and holy that he would read it quietly. Not in his head. And not out loud. But luck was laughing and pointing fingers at me today.

“You look extra beautiful today...” The Professor glanced at me from down his nose and under his glasses. “...must be that dazzling sweater your wearing. Who would have thought you have such wonderful taste.” He cleared his throat and Remus smiled softly at me.

“She does,” Remus interjected, I hear some of my friends “awe” and Sirius made a gagging sound, James had half his hand in his mouth trying to stifle his laughter. As if he hadn’t been caught saying more embarrassingly sweet things to Lily. I smile back to Remus, but he titled his head in confusion, his smile faltering slightly, my ‘grin’ came out as more of a grimace.

Did he embarrass you? He thought in horror. But then the professor turned the note to your side and when he started to read Remus knew exactly why your face was flushed and your head hung like a beaten dogs.

“Very dazzling indeed, though I think you’d prefer it-” He once again cleared his throat and now he too, was blushing. “Prefer it off of me. I’ve been thinki-”

“Right Professor, I don’t think that was for you. Quite pedophilic if ya ask me.” Remus fights his own chuckle and mortification, and tries his best to protect you from the onslaught of laughter and embarrassment. The loudest being the howling cackles of Sirius and James. The professor burned red, and grumbled under his breath, shoving the note into Remus’s chest. He quickly pockets it.

I am half packed and ready to run seconds before the bell rang out. I burst past the doors like a bat out of hell and only turn when I hear the joyous laughter of Remus.

“And I thought I ought to be embarrassed bout what I wrote,” He hugged me as I whined into his chest, inhaling his scent and reveling in the calmness it gave me after mortifying chaos.

“Bugger off...” I say, he hugs me closer and lets me bury my still very hot face into his neck, hiding from the whispers of others. “awww.” He hid his chuckles with a kiss to my hairline, but I heard the bastard. I glare at his chest but soften as he squeezes me tight, when a particularly rude laugh echoes through the halls.

He was greatly enjoying the comedy of it, though he wishes it was not at your expense. If it made you feel any better he’d later show you how much he enjoyed your full message to him. “s’ alright love, they’ll have better, more nonsensical things to chat about by the end of lunch.” He says in an attempt to make you feel less anxiety about it all.

I nod at his words, and emerge from his hug with a laugh of my own, hoping it’ll drown out my mortification. But that did not last long.

“What ‘ave ya been thinking of again, (y/n)” James rushes out, as if he’s had it planned since the note was read aloud. He burst into laughter again and Sirius was right beside him, hand clutching his shoulder for support as he just managed to get a remark of his own in.

“Yeah, m’ surprised to see ya still have that sweater of yours on.” Sirius barks out, James doubles over now and Remus pushes the two away.

“You’re pricks, the both of ya.” You four walk down the corridors and though they’re taking the piss out of ya, the 3 boys glare at anyone else who dares to look down at you or call you names.

Today was one for the burn book of course, but I couldn’t help but to enjoy Remus’s warm hand in mine, and the lightheartedness of the group today. For the rest of the evening we met up with Peter and Lily and ‘studied’ which really just became an event of who could make the others laugh the hardest, and who can best re-tell the events of History class for Peter and Lily. It felt as if the sun had worked its way into the room, and shone brightly on the lot of us. Filling us all with warmth and joy. I’ve enjoyed today so much because lately I’m beginning to notice quite an inconsistency in our happy times together.

Remus is very open with me, or at least I always chose to believe such nonsense. I look at him now, illuminated by the common room fire, head thrown back in laughter, shoulders shaking up and down, the flames light dancing across his scars. I’ve never seen something so beautiful. And I’ve never felt something so beautiful, so all-consuming and passionate as our love. I look at him now and want to believe that things are going well between us, but they simply aren’t.

Tomorrow may be like this again, pure bliss infused with some normal teenage drama. Maybe it will be this great even, for a full week. But soon, he will begin to grow distant from me. He will become quieter, and more aggravated towards Snape and others, he’ll pull away from all but James, Sirius, and Peter. But then, those boys too will get distracted, acting weird. Leaving Lily and I to observe and ponder the behavior of the boys, and degrade ourselves quietly as to why they seem to isolate themselves from us.

Sometime soon... it will happen, it always happens. But it never annoyed me to the extent that it has recently until Lucy Diamond, a Witch a grade below us, who started to walk occasionally with Remus in the halls, or to breakfast and flirting. Oh god, the constant flutter of giggles and laughter from the two made me sick. Half the time they’re interactions were brief, but sometimes I’d catch him share a smile with her and spark a long interesting debate about something or humor their conversations in other ways that made my head spin.

Lily assures me that it is just basic human kindness, but she too will glance in confusion at the pair some nights at dinner. Just the thought of Remus cheating on me, makes my throat dry up and my stomach shrivel up and drop with it.

****

Remus was pulling away from me again. We walked in silence with the others chatting around us, his eyes were on the moon’s powdered appearance in the still baby blue sky. It was only mid-day. I squeezed his hand and followed his gaze.

“S’ almost a full moon. Beautiful isn’t it?” I smile up at him, he smiles almost sadly down at me, nodding, god I didn’t think it was that bad of an attempt to converse. But then his smile grows and he looks straight into my eyes as he says...

“I’ve seen prettier things in my lifetime.” I laugh, and he can’t help his small chuckle at my blush. He told be it looks beautiful but personally I’ve never liked the whole tomato look. I lean into his side more and bump into him with my hip. He bumps me back and we giggle like school girls through the hall.

Then Snape walks by. Oh Snape, must you be such a dick all the time.

He shoulders into me roughly, if it weren’t for the way Remus held onto me, I would have fallen over.

“Don’t you have eyes Snape, or is the view from so far up your arse blocking everything?” Remus all but growls, we’ve all turned around to face Snape. I tug on Remus’s hand to signal for us to go, I’ve never liked the way Snape and the boys are with one another. But Remus lets go of my hand and steps forwards. Snape sneers down at me.

“I thought whores enjoy being touched. Excuse me (y/n) if I wasn’t rough enough for your liking, I’ll do it much harder next time,” He drawls out smugly, his friends behind him laugh. It was clear he was referencing my very inappropriate note to Remus last week. I burned hot from both anger and embarrassment, I went to defend myself but the voices of all our friends cut me off, beating me to it. And then there was utter silence.

Remus was hunched over, his knuckles already turning red. By his feet lays Snape, crouched on the floor, holding his nose, but not even the make-shift dam of his fingers could stop the flow of blood.

“Bastard! You prick,” Snape hissed, already grabbing for his wand, Remus fisted his hands again and from the corner of my eye I see James whip out his own wand discreetly, Sirius already toe to toe with one of Snape’s goons. Lily ready to spar as well, her own wand gripped tightly in her hand. Peter stood behind us, his fingers twitching and he’s eager to pounce.

But nothing happened. Because the bell rang and students filled the hall, hardly sparing any of us a glance despite the blood on the floor. Snape points his wand at Remus

“You better hope you never see me again Lupin, next time I’m coming straight for you.”

“It’s a small school, I’m looking forward to it.” Remus spits out through gritted teeth. Remus and Snape stare at one another for a long time, and with baited breath I think maybe not even the crowd around us will stop them. Remus looks so angry. I walk softly behind him and slide my hand over his shoulder, and take his hurt hand softly with my own.

“Lets go, my love,” I whisper into his ear. He relaxes only slightly, tugging my hand he leads us out of the halls and rushes me to the entrance of my class before running off without a word. His breathing was rough the whole time, and I watched as Lucy’s eyes follow his figure, and then she is off, racing after him. To calm him down no doubt. My heart turned into slabs of stone and fell down to my toes.

Lily no doubt saw the expression on my face, she walks up to me slowly.

“You should talk to him. No use letting it build up, yeah?” She urges me sweetly, squeezing my shoulder before walking into class. I stare down the hallway long after they are out of sight, I wonder where they have gone? I wonder if they are alone? I shake my head and decide to take Lily’s advice, I will talk to him about it all tomorrow.

****

Now I love Lily dearly, and I’m not saying any of what happened next was her fault. In all and every sense, it was my own fault. But the party we threw the night before all hell broke lose, was definitely her idea. And it definitely heavily influenced what I did next....

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gothamsworst · 3 years

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Ficlet Clip- Understanding (Co Authored bt JohnTS)

“You’d think more people would assume the existence of such things, you know. With things like the Justice League cavorting about the world, magic as simple as science.. So many people are so quick to assume such things are .. impossible, despite all evidence to the contrary.”

Her gaze locked with his eyes, the piercing red almost shimmering among the smoke and shadows. There was hunger, but not a carnal one. No, it was a craving for understanding. For someone who comprehended the necessity violence could be in times of peril. Her kind, immortals- they rarely found understanding in the living.

“Gotham was the only sensible place for me to hide. What better place for a monster to flee, than to the dark?”

The Penguin felt he had to stand up to make his point. It was a rare opportunity, so why not make the most of it? As he stood up, he slowly paced towards the massive window behind him.

“Well, just a few months ago, there was no Justice League, because there was no threat of invaders from the stars. You see, everything old shifts to adapt to the new, or fades into extinction. We began using gimmicks like the Batman did to fight him on equal terms. Then came the metahumans, then the rest. Natural escalation. No matter what anyone says, finding someone like you was only a matter of time.”

He’s now reached the glass, touching it with the entirety of his right palm. I Something she said is giving Oswald pause to turn around, to face her. He’s still looking out the window, but not focusing on anything.

“Monsters don’t hide in the dark alone, my dear. I have committed crimes -some of which are heinous- and I hide in the light, down there. Among my peers I want to be better than someday. Not wasting a fortune, but investing it, to help this city so they remember me. Someday…”

The Penguin was now ready to turn around and face Roxanne, still standing by the glass pane. There’s sorrow and regret in his voice, as if he wishes he knew what he’s about to say sooner.

“I don’t think anyone who is a monster ponders what a horrible monster they are, Roxxy. Whatever you are, so long as you are aware of it, you can pull back from the brink of chaos. When the time comes, you can face your family, and survive. No one I know of that questions their nature is a slave to it.”

“I have no shame in what I am, love..” She smiled a bit, rising to meet him. “Only in how I became such a thing. I may not be a human, but I still live, in my own way. I breathe, I think, I hunger, I strain. I am in every sense, still a part of this world, even if the things that made me human are far behind me.”

When she reached the glass, her clawed fingers tapped on its surface with a light tink. “But there is shame in the things I must do to stay alive. There is shame in how I became what I am, and what I do to maintain it. Immortality comes at a terrible cost. ”

She looked to him with a mixture of somber sadness, and a light of mischief. “You learn to make your own joy. Your own hope. ”

The way the light caught her face was.. phantasmal. The haunting pale features, the dark curls that fell around her features, and those eyes.. shimmering blood opal portals that flickered with blue and gold. She locked her gaze with his, and the sadness melted into a contented smile.

“It’s nice to finally talk to someone who understands that there can be good in the hard parts.” Oswald kept his hand on the glass, as if there was some kind of connection, a bond he would hate to sever. It was comforting to finally know someone who understood. It has been so long, some would say an eternity, since the last time that happened. The Penguin is mesmerized in her presence, her appearance so haunting that he almost feels timid to speak further. Thing is, he’s fought enough ghosts his entire life, so he finds the strength to respond.

“My dearest Roxxy, you are without a doubt the only one who understands better than I how true that is. I wish-”

A voice is heard as someone rushes through the doorway. An uninvited visitor at the worst possible time. A middle-aged man with broad shoulders and a gruff stubble enters the room in a panic. Looks like he’s been through hell. At least he closes the door behind him, even leans against it for support.

“Boss, you gotta do somethin’! The Bat, he took down our shipment, the cops are all over it now. We had to run! Good news is, we used the smaller gangs like you taught us. No one can trace it back to us, but-”

“Not now, Laurence. Get out of my office, now.”

“But, boss, those guns were worth at least ten mil-”

“Out, NOW!”

He can no longer keep touching the cold window, alongside her. Almost out of instinct, the Penguin grabs his closest umbrella without even looking and flicks the handle once, allowing the 5 inch serrated blade to pop out. One more flick and the blade flies through the air at the speed of a professional’s arrow, embedding itself no more than one inch away from Laurence’s face, into the finely sculpted wooden door. Another blade pops into place to be ejected, but Laurence knows when to run. He almost vanishes when he leaves the room faster than he entered it. “Before you say anything, yes, that was an arms deal. I have no shame in what I am either, only in what I have to do to be worth a damn, to be remembered a few generations from now as more than the short man with a trick umbrella.“

He can finally put the umbrella down, he thinks, as his fingers have stopped gripping it like it’s his own soul. Oswald is back to the window pane, touching the glass again. Maybe it’s the lighting, but his eyes seem almost glassy.

"I know what you are, and I can see every side of what you are. If you feel the same way, maybe we can… Maybe we can make the load lighter somehow, for both of us. Can we..?” She reached over, taking his hand in hers. The skin was warm, save for the palm that had been pressed to the icy glass. Her grasp was gentle, and firm. There was tenderness to it. A vulnerability.

“If you would have me.. I’d be delighted, Oswald. I really would.”

‘If you would have me’. The phrase had many meanings- but there was one as ld as time, that even one like Oswald would know. It was a phrase often used to offer companionship of a more mature variety.

A courtship.

Roxxy knew the risks of opening her heart to a human, even one like the Penguin. But those eyes, deep and shimmering and real.. She saw into them and knew this was something she couldn’t turn away from. He was kindred. And if anyone could handle her heart, it might well be him.

The “one moment at a time” mantra he was tied to for so long just fell apart. Now what? What does the next moment hold? No earthly idea, as far as the Penguin could think.

“I… I would love to have you…, here, if you want a position in the Lounge. You are talented, I’m sure of that. And, provided you want to, you can extend that partnership to the other, more well paying side of the business…and also extend it to…”

Almost stammering through his words, his mind tries to reach what his heart already knows. Oswald never was that connected to someone, another soul trying to shoulder through hell, not knowing what will become of them out the other side. At least, that’s how he understood it. Might as well take a leap of faith, it’s not like a better time might come later. This is Gotham, Poison Ivy might take over Aparo park in the next 5 minutes and drive the city into panic mode.

“…to us.”

Leaps of faith never worked for the Penguin, only cunning and ruthlessness. For Oswald though, they worked out just fine, so far.

She relaxed into a gentle posture, holding his hand just a little bit tighter. There was no going back now. And so, leaning down just enough to meet his eyes, the draculina placed a small, tender kiss on his cheek. The mark it left was a deep rosy red, and she saw no shame in making it. No, she liked him. More than she had liked anyone in a long time.

“I can start this weekend. My show at the Nest is tomorrow, if you care to see what my performances are like before such partnerships begin. Or, if you’d just like to share a cocktail or two.”

Oh, now the flirting was much more obvious. Her hand cupped his chin, hesitating nervously for a moment. Should she? There was no doubt Roxanne wanted to kiss him. She’d been resisting the urge all night. But she had no idea what would come of such a decision. Not that she was opposed to being intimate with the man.

Far from it. In fact, the idea excited her.

But not yet. No, instead, another kiss in the cheek- this one a little higher up. Modesty was not her specialty- she was sin incarnate under all the pleasantry and glamour. Her body was built for violence and lechery. But her heart was still human, and told her to wait.

That could come soon enough.

“I hope I’m not being too forward.” Oswald’s heart stopped beating in his ears for a few seconds after the second kiss. At least, he knew he was on the right path. He shifted his body slightly, pefectly centered to face Roxanne fully. His monocle was no longer useful up close, so he set it aside on the table, along with the still bladed umbrella.

“It would make me happy beyond words to see you perform, my dear. I would love nothing more. Truly. And, as for your other question…”

He barely felt how cold her hand was. Oswald was far too focused on her image before him, and how she made him feel. Awe, a bit of fear, a lot of affection, a touch of amazement at the creature before him. So many more words he couldn’t find in the moment. He can’t resist placing his other hand on the side of her face, gently pressing against it to feel the marble-like skin that’s endured centuries.

“…You are incredible, Roxanne, and for that you can be as forward as you want.”

Oswald leaned ever so closer, only to stop when his face is a couple of inches away from hers. That old school upbringing kicks in again. Now he’s not sure if he’s too forward.

“I…”

A whirlpool of emotions stir inside. Words don’t seem to work for him at the moment.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. There was no way. Not when they were this close, not with the way he looked at her. Roxanne gave in to the hunger, pressing her lips to his in feverish delight, her body trembling as the sensation of Oswald’s kiss washed over her.

He tasted like wine and cigarette smoke, and his cologne.. god, it was so overwhelming. Her arms slinked around his shoulders and the draculina purred, parting from it only to sink back in after quietly catching her breath. What was this? Had she ever been so eager before? Roxxy couldn’t remember.

Parting from the kiss one last time, Roxxy looked on Oswald with a great fondness. His hat was askew and hair a bit ruffled from the moment, but he looked so.. charming.

Oh yes. She had caught the bug hard.

“Pardon my enthusiasm,” she said barely above a whisper.

“My dear, I quite like your enthusiasm.”

Oswald took off his hat slowly to place it on the table. Still locking eyes with Roxanne, he adjusted his hair, without too much success. He leaned forward, as if he was about to whisper a secret, but instead planted one, two, three kisses onto her lips, his heart beating so fast he almost couldn’t even hear it.

The first two were subtle and soft, the third lasting longer, more intense than the previous. His right hand moved behind her face, to caressing her hair gently. After he pulled back, that right hand was back to the Penguin’s side, putting his hat and monocle back on. He was now looking into the amber pearls of her eyes, again.

“Pardon my persistence”, he said slightly out of breath.

She was red in the face, but her gaze was utterly blissful- half lidded eyes paired with a meek expression. “I like your persistence,” she replied, purring into his ear affectionately.

Roxanne hadn’t felt this level of comfort in a long time. Nor had she had affections this intense. Oswald was bold, charismatic, and not without a temper- something she couldn’t help but be drawn to. The vampire found herself craving him, the way one craved sleep, or air.

“Oswald, I.. It has been a long time, since I’ve done something like this. I need to know that if we’re to take this seriously, that.. That you’re sure. That there is no hesitations.”

“My dear, everything I’ve done has been without doubts. Everything I do is for a reason and…I’ve never felt this way before, for anyone. I’m sure of this, Roxxy. Like every other action I’ve taken in my comparatively short life.”

Oswald reached out with both hands, cupping them over one of Roxanne’s. Slim fingers, cold to the touch. Strong as steel under the soft surface.

“Roxxy, I promise you. No hesitations.”

The Penguin looked around aimlessly for a couple of seconds, as if he’s entered his office for the first time. He then turned back to face Roxanne with a smile., almost stifling a chuckle.

“Do you want to know something funny? I always explain to every guest in this room the origin of all the items in my collection before they even sit down. I forgot all about that in the… moment. We’ll have time for that kind of tour later, I’m sure. If you want to, that is.”

“I’d like that.”

Bro...bro...!!!

#dc #gotham rogues #btas #oswald cobblepot #penguin #fanfic #ficlet #fem oc #dc ocs #sfw #suggestive #long post #bro this is so good #i love hte idea of oz just being able to launch knives out of his fucking umbrella #it's like a gun that shoots knives!! but it's an umbrella!!! three in one!!!!

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enigma-im · 3 years

Text

Seventh day of Christmas...

Trope: 1800s Monster (Monster hunt) Relationship: Swamp monster x Human Word Count: 5,883

"Should have gotten this done earlier," I grumble to myself," going to catch a death of a cold."

The sun is nearly set over the horizon as I rush down to the river. With bucket and washboard in hand, I scurry down the path. The water comes into view, the sun making the sight more ethereal. I heave the clothes filled bin near the water's edge. I take my time removing them all, submerging the bucket into the river.

The idle task of washing clothes used to be nice. To be used as an excuse to get away from my loud family. I always volunteered for it as a child, just to stop hearing my sisters scream who took what. These days I'd give anything to go back to a busy home. The quiet has begun to turn my brain to mush, the only interaction I get now is talking to the butcher when I purchase my meats. I sigh, scrubbing away.

With the load finished and clean, and the sun nearly hidden behind the horizon, I lift my bucket to head back home. I perch the bin on the edge of my hip, taking a moment to admire the sunset. The sun truly adds a breathless look to the water this time of day. I smile softly to myself before turning away.

As I take my first step I hear a dull whimper. It is just loud enough to give me pause. Looking around I wait for it to repeat itself. After a few seconds, it sounds again, ending with a bubbly gurgle. Curiosity gets the best of me, setting my bin down to check out the sound. Many images pop through my head as I wander around the grassy bank. Thoughts of an injured animal drive my need to find the source.

Looking through bushes and behind rocks, I hear the pathetic sound from the water. Confused I walk over, looking over a thicket of Maidencanes. Something causes a bit of a gap in the grass, hidden by the tall stalks. I split a path through it, looking to the creature below. There isn't much to see, some thick globs of algae sitting in a long pile. Some netting is caught around it, most likely lost from the fishermen. I huff, such litter.

I take a step back, letting the grass settle back into place. As I try to step away from the water's edge I hear the whimper again. It comes from the grass. I look to the thicket bemused, knowing I just checked the area. Making certain, I part the grass once more and look upon the large glob of algae. I gaze at every crevice and divot, finding nothing. Before I can retreat again, the large pile of algae moves. I startle back, worried for myself more than the whimpering creature. Watching the mound move I catch a pair of eyes glaring up at me, staring through strands of wet grass. I freeze, motionless against the sight before me.

"m-m-monster," I shout, falling on my rear. I scurry back, not looking away from the creature's devilish yellow eyes. As I get my bearings I twist and crawl towards my bin. I shuffle to my feet, reaching for my belongs like a lifeline. I grab the board, surely I can use this washboard to protect myself. As I try to think of useful weapons I hear the wet whimper. I freeze, turning around slowly to stare back at the monster cradled in the Maidencanes. It gurgles, wiggling in the net that cocoons it. The sight is pitiful, their eyes more so.

I twist away from the heart retching sight, clenching my eyes as I fight back the urge that boils forth. My fingers dig into the washboard.

"I will not help him, I will not help him," I mumble under my breath. Another whimper steals my attention, forcing me to look back at it. My shoulders slump in defeat. I sigh, shaking my head at my ignorance.

I set the board down and search through my items for my pocket knife. My father gave it to me as a youngling after I cried about my brothers getting one. The memory brings a smile to my face. I clench the knife and head over to the monster.

"You better not eat me," I grumble to it as I step into the ankle-high water. I flipped out the knife, staring down at the monster. The creature gurgles, wiggling in it's netting. I crouch down and grab a strand of rope and attempt to cut through. The monster still shifts and flails to a point I'm too scared to cut the rope. I try anyway, tugging the netting up to get the knife under it. As I begin sawing the creature jerks, nearly making me cut my fingers. I yelp, falling back into the water. Now wet and annoyed I glare at the creature.

"You better quit this behavior right this instant," I shout," I won't help you if I'm going to get cut." I point the knife towards him, meeting his eyes with a motherly sneer. The creature drops it's shoulders and sulks, falling lax into the water. I cock a brow," better.'

Getting back to work I tug at the netting, plucking the strands easily with my knife. Piece after piece loosens till the creature is nearly free. I pick at the last bit, snapping it with a huff. Before I can stand the creature lifts itself, standing tall above me. Looking up at it from my crouched position I begin to fear for my life.

The muck covered monster watches me for just a moment before turning away and sinking into the river. Nothing is said, no noises exchanged. He is gone. My breath finally comes back to me, rushing into my lungs hard and fast. I clench my chest, falling back on my rear in the water.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name," I ramble to myself. Still mumbling the prayer I look to the water, curious and intrigued.

The next day is spent keeping busy. I constantly catch myself thinking about the river monster, scolding myself every time I do. I clean the house, then tend the garden, even cleaning out the pantry just for something to do. The work doesn't distract me as it should. Though I shouldn't be so surprised, it's not like anything noteworthy has happened as of recently like the monster.

As I sit down that afternoon I allow myself just a few minutes to think back on the creature. I think about its nearly glowing eyes, still entranced- enamored- now. It was an ugly being but I can't deny the odd appeal of its horrid physique. It was tall, very built. I dare to consider it as a he, the body of lumber workers or blacksmiths. He is strong.

Giggling like a little girl about the large barrel chest I think about if the monster is still at the river. Surely that would be foolish of me to assume such a thing. What person would want to stay where they were nearly killed with a discarded fishing net? To be fair though, he isn't a person. Either way, he won't be there. I could still check… I shake my head at the thought.

"No, no, no. such ideas would surely get one killed," I try to persuade myself," no, no. that will not do." I stand from the chair and look around for anything to keep busy. My gaze locks on the sheets piled by the washing bin. I should wash it before it gets dark out. Lingering on the idea for just a moment I shake myself from the thought. "no, no," I mumble again walking to the bedroom. I stop at the doorway, glancing back to the bin. I pinch my lips with a grunt.

Racing down the path towards the river I try to think how foolish I'm being by wanting to catch another sight of the monster. The thought is outweighed by my excitement.

I sit by the river, scrubbing at the sheets while looking out at the river. The sun still sits above the horizon, not threatening to vanish behind it any time soon. I see no hint to where the creature may be, becoming completely distracted from my chore to search. My scrubbing slows till I'm just looking at the water.

"Silly, silly girl," I sulk," wishing for such dangers as this."

I stack my items back and turn away from the river with a sigh. It seems the taste of the unknown is done for. I pout as I take a step back up the path. Nearly off the bank, I hear a splash. Blinded by my excitement I drop the bin and run down to the shore, looking frantically around. Around the edge near a tree are rings of rippling water, a turtle scuttling away from the rock it was previously perched on. I sigh in defeat. Taking one more look around I'm startled by a head peaking out in the middle of the river.

"oh," I recoil in surprise. I hardly expected to see him so easily, or at all. He just stands in the water, his head from his nose up visible. Today he looks different. The muck that covered him before is mostly gone, revealing the shining looking skin of his face. The top of his head still has bits of algae and grass stuck to him, but the rest is barren.

"Hello," I call out," I just wanted to check on you, to see if you were ok."

The creature continues to stare, a few bubbles rising from near its mouth. I hum in thought.

"I'm surprised you stuck around, fishermen are quite active up the river this season," I say casually, not expecting him to speak," they are hard workers but they tend to let their lost gear follow the stream till it's lodged in the bush."

The silence stretches on till the creature ducks back under the water and out of sight. Though the meeting was lackluster I can't help the gleeful pep in my step as I walk back home.

I return the next day, forgoing bringing my washing bin. Sitting atop a rock near the shore I watch the wildlife. Ducks swim together on the opposite bank, picking at the bugs swimming in the water. Turtles bask on rocks nearby, and fish flick at the water's surface to enjoy a snack. It's not long before the familiar head pops up in the middle of the river.

I perk up," Hello again river monster. It's a lovely day today, isn't it?"

He just continues to watch.

I ramble on," I don't get out much like this anymore. There is always something else to keep me busy back at the house but I think I prefer sitting here basking in the sun than in my kitchen with all the quiet." I look to the sky, closing my eyes and feeling the heat on my cheeks. "Yea, it's way nicer here," I say.

Glancing at the monster I see him rise higher out of the water before launching an object to the shore. It thumps against the sand with a soft thud, indenting the ground with it's landing. Confused I walk over. A rusted metal object glints in the sun the closer I get. Leaning down I snatch the piece, admiring it before it clicks.

"A fishing reel," I ask, looking back to the monster," more fisherman debris I'm assuming?"

The creature shocks me with a nod. I hold back a startled yelp, keeping cool as I fidget with the object in my hands.

"Trying to clean up the river? I'm sorry they're making that job harder," I apologize," feel free to give them to me so I can discard them properly. Don't want any more monster men getting trapped in fishing nets."

The monster sinks in the water, bubbles rising near his face. He glares at me, sitting up and spitting water towards me before swimming off again. I snicker at the departure, looking at the reel with a smile.

The week is filled with him tossing me more fishing gear and litter. I get more reels, a snapped pole, lures and droppers, boots, and a snapped anchor. The little collection is mostly tossed in the trash, the metal is taken into town for scrap to the blacksmith. The kind man even offers some coin for the scraps. It's an eventful week.

I return, this time with a picnic basket. A few sandwiches and fruits for a lunch by the river. I'm greeted before I can sit down with the creature looking from the center of the river. His whole head sticks out now, the little progress we made last week. Little fins protrude from his head, flickering as I sit on the sand.

"Afternoon river monster, I decided to have a picnic today. I packed a few ham sandwiches with the extra meat I got leftover. Some strawberries were threatening to go bad so I figured I could feed the ducks if I can't finish them all," I ramble on, opening the basket. The monster sits further out of the water, watching curiously as I get out my first sandwich. I take a bite, watching his little fin flicker again.

I hold out the sandwich," want a bite?"

He nods.

Surprised and excited I stand from the sand and walk down towards the shore. I crouch down beside the water, picking a piece off my sandwich. I hold the nibble out.

"Come on then, I'm not getting in to offer this for you," I shake the food. The monster cautiously swims forward, crawling as he reaches the shallows. He grabs the nibble, his cold, webbed fingers grazing mine. I watch him pop the piece in his mouth, chewing it with a contemplative look.

"Good," I ask. He nods," James has the best meats in town and Marley gave me the cheese at a discount." he swallows the nibble and looks to me.

"Thank you," he croaks out before retreating into the water. I watch in startled awe as he disappears into the water. With the final ripple dissipating I sit back on the shore in shock.

"You can talk," I shout.

I think I annoy him the next day trying to get him to talk. He ends the meeting quickly by tossing his litter to the shore and swimming away. I'm not deterred. The next day I try again, baiting him with sly comments and promises of more food. He doesn't take it, spitting more water and swimming away. After nearly a week of this, I give up, letting him keep his secrets.

I'm down by the water with my washing bin, scrubbing at my clothes in silent frustration. I hear when he pops out the water but I can't pay him any mind. I try not to let his silence hurt our fragile relationship but it really bugs me. Ignoring him I continue to run my skirt over the washboard. A thud sounds from beside me, followed by another when I don't react. One more lands beside me, closer than any other before it.

I glare out at him," don't hit me with litter, please" I humph, angrily soaking the next shirt in the water. My finger aches with the harsh grip on the wet clothing, my nail catching on the ridges of the board. I don't pay attention to the water splashing around in front of me, knowing he is just trying to catch my focus.

I jump when something pokes my cheek. Snapping my gaze up I startle again when I see the river monster crouching before me, dripping onto the sand.

"What," I ask tentatively. He stares at me, flicking his fins. I almost speak again before he beats me to it.

"you are mad," he says, reaching up and poking my cheek again," stop it." I flounder at his words. Not sure what to do I slap his hand away and cross my arms.

"I'm not mad, I'm frustrated," I puff my cheeks," it's different."

He shakes his head.

"It is different. Mad is being angry, frustrated is being angry about something you can't control," I clarify," big difference." he tilts his head, cocking a brow. I huff, looking away. I stare out at the water, feeling more than frustrated now. He reaches out a pokes my cheek again.

"Stop it," I bark, knocking his hand away again," you aren't helping the issue. Just go back in the water and swim away like you always do." I twist away in a childish fit. I fully expect him to jump back in the river and leave me to my pouting. I just wanted to have someone to talk to and finding out he could respond this entire time kind of hurts.

As I wait to hear the sound of water splashing I feel something cold bump against my leg. Looking down I see the monster laying on his back next to me, his hands resting on his plant-covered stomach. He meets my eyes and raises his hand to poke at my cheek again.

"Speak," he prods at the corner of my mouth.

"Why," I push his hand away.

He pokes me again," I like it. Speak."

I swat his hand away again, staring down at him confused. He likes my ramblings? It's oddly heartwarming to know he isn't just ignoring me but actually listening. I blush, turning towards the water. I begin another conversation, feeling less one-sided as he lays beside me while I finish my laundry.

This week the daily meetings are a bit more friendly. He makes the journey to the shore, falling onto his back each time and listening to me till I leave. I start bringing treats for him to nibble on while I go on and on about anything and everything. It's nice to have a friend who isn't a merchant in town. Every day I walk to the river I get a bit giddy.

"When I was younger I moved here with a lad I fancied at the time. He made many sweet promises that I left my family up north and moved down here. Though what a fool I was," I nudge his shoulder," not even six months together and he robs me blind. Running off with a little harlot that worked in town. I never felt smaller than then."

"Why didn't you move back," he asks, nibbling on a rag full of blueberries.

I shrug," many reasons. The main one being money. How can I get back there with just myself? I'm no spring chicken, every day comes with new aches I wasn't prepared for."

He snorts," you are still young."

I shake my head amused," I already gave you food, you don't need to flatter me."

I feel him staring at me, I turn to him. He watches me for a moment, studying me before letting his head fall back against the sand.

"Do you want a family still," he asks. I stare off to the side, shrugging before I look back to the water.

"If I could then I would, but I'm not going to get my hopes up anymore," I answer honestly. He hums, his eye lingering on my back for a moment. I can't meet his eyes again, a little forlorn at the idea of having little ones of my own. The image twists my heart

Another day cleaning linens by the river, talking with the monster. I stop in thought as something dawns on me.

"I don't know your name," I say more as a statement to myself," how rude of me to never ask." I look to him, allowing him a moment to answer the prompt. He just basks in the sun with eyes closed. I nudge him with my foot," that was your cue to answer." he shrugs. I nudge him again. He sneers, finally opening his eyes and acknowledging me.

"Don't have one," he grunts. I watch him lounge back in the sand, sunbathing without a care. Biting back a smile I nudge him again with my foot. Quickly he grabs my ankle, growling up at me. A laugh bubbles out my lips, sneaking past without permission as I snicker at his irritated face.

"Do you want a name," I ask. He lets go of my foot, shoving it away to sunbathe again. He shrugs.

Excited at the new objective I tuck my legs under myself and stare down at him. I think hard on a name, petting at my chin in thought.

"Gilbert," I ask, he chuffs," Sebastian," he sneers," Jonathan," he shakes his head," Lily?" he turns to me and growls. I snicker, it fading off as I try to think. Too many names don't fit him well. Harrison, Noah, Ben, are all just not fitting. With a shrug, I suggest the only thing that fits.

"Elijah," I ask. He catches my eye, staring for a hard moment before shrugging. I guess Elijah works.

I chat with Elijah, excited about his new name. as I finish the last bit of sheets I hear a twig snap from the woods behind me. I snap to attention, twisting around to see a hunter walking down to the shore a bit ways down.

"Afternoon miss," he calls out," excuse me for intruding but I could hear voices and I grew curious." I smile to the man, hiding the nerves twisting my gut as I adjust the bin to obscure Elijah. Leaning back on my arms I greet the hunter.

"Sorry, was talking to myself out here," I answer," it's a habit I've picked up while doing chores, makes the time go by faster."

The man nods," I can understand that, I've been caught a time or two doing that same. I just stopped by the warn you about the sighting I've heard in town about a monster living by the river." I stiffen, fighting back the urge to look over at Elijah laying beside me.

"Is that right? I haven't heard such a tale, I guess the townsfolk didn't know I clean my linen here," I call out to him," I best finish this up and head back to my home where it's safe."

"That you should ma'am," he takes a few steps closer," I don't think you would mind letting me keep you company just in case a sweet thing like yourself gets caught by such a horrid demon."

I jump, stopping him," no, no, no. I'll be fine, I keep my father's knife on me at all times. Ain't no river demon going to catch me off guard now that I know." Elijah snorts softly beside me. I nearly turn around, instead, I clear my throat and give the man my most convincing smile.

"If you think so, I won't force my presence where I'm not wanted," he waves as he heads back into the woods," bye, miss." I wave, watching him till he is out of sight.

I fall back onto my back with a long-drawn-out sigh. I've never felt tenser than at that moment. Elijah sits up beside me, looking off to the tree line then down at me.

"Thank you," he says in his grumbly voice. I shrug, still feeling my heart racing.

"I protect my friends," I smile at him," no need to thank me for that." his gaze softens, lingering on me a tad too long before he sits up and head back into the water.

Sometimes the next few days I head back down to the river, excited to tell Elijah about a new shipment of exotic cheeses that Marley got in. carrying my picnic basket I skip down the path. As the water comes into view I see Elijah's head pop from the water. Before I can get any closer I hear a soft murmur of people speaking. I slow my walk, looking up the river to a small gang of townsfolk wondering my direction. As they spot me a few of the men trot on forward.

"Good evening folks," I greet, waving for Elijah to get down.

A man steps forward, a gun strapped to his back," evening miss. Excuse us for intruding on your lunch but we are going to have to ask you to leave."

I look to the man bemused," Excuse me? Why would I need to do such a thing? I've been coming to this same spot for lunch for nearly a month and I cannot think of a reason why I would need to abandon it."

The rest of the group huddle around the older gentlemen, all carrying weapons of various lengths and sizes. They look around the area, focusing mainly on the water.

"Sorry but it's for safety reasons. A demon has been spotted in these parts and with a few of the miller boys missing we can't take a chance losing anyone else," he explains, reaching out to guide me away towards the woods," so for the next couple of weeks have your lunch in the safety of your home while we sort all this out."

I want to argue, to laugh at such suggestions that Elijah would be at fault for those miller boys missing. The words sit on the tip of my tongue but I fight it back. I smile and nod, walking away toward my home. As I'm out of sight I let my true feelings out.

What's going to happen to Elijah if they find him?

I rest at home, restless as it's been nearly a week since I've gotten to see Elijah. His absents begin to tug at my heart as the lonely home feels smaller and smaller without anyone to speak with. I try to fill the void with books or chores but nothing can replace the space he left.

As I sit by candlelight reading I hear a soft murmur from outside. I shut my book, looking to the window to see a soft glow growing closer to my home. Bolting out of my seat I race to the front door, tearing it open to be greeted by a large mob of people.

"Hello," I say confused to the crowd. A few of the people hold common farm tools, other torches. The ones standing before my door hold guns, aiming them to the floor as they glare at me.

"You, Lou Winifred, have been accused of speaking to spirits and demons, of practicing witchcraft, and for the disappearance of the miller boys," a younger man shouts, his face red and hair cut strangely. I scoff at his words, dumbfounded by such things. He didn't even get my last name right.

"What, with what evidence do you make these bold claims," I cross my arms, tapping my foot impatiently.

Another man starts shouting," I saw yas, you were talking to the water and laughing."

A woman yells from the other end of the crowd," and I saw spirits leaving your home at all hours of the night!"

"I heard your voice whispering to my boys as they lay to sleep, charming them to follow you out to the river," one says.

The crowd spout more ridiculous claims till it just a cluster of noise. My head spins as I can't figure out who to address first. This is all nonsense and surely they can't all be so stupid.

"I have done none of those things, I'm but a simple woman trying to live out her days in peace," I snap.

"Then explain why you have not married. You are well in your age, perhaps you promised your virtue to the demon of the river," a man snarls. I fluster at the accusation. That's none of their business who I promise what to.

I try to argue with them but a few men put their hands on me, jerking me back and forth as they drag me away from my home. I fight in their hold, screaming all the while. This is all ridiculous, foolish ignorance forged by fear. What can I do? What is there to do?

The crowd takes me to the river, tossing me to the sandy beach without a care. I scrape my forearm on the rough grains, wincing from the small cuts.

"Let her call her demon and we will all see the truth," the leader shouts to the crowd. They all cheer, looking at me with disgust. The leader crouches down and lifts me to my feet, sneering in my face. "Now call your beast," he snarls. I shake in fear, tears pricking at my eyes as I frantically look to the river.

The crowd waits silently as we all look to the water, the glow of the fires lighting the surface. We wait and wait, nothing happening. The leader clenches my arms till I whimper.

"Call him," he barks. I shake my head, my lip trembling as I do my damndest to not cry. The leader reels his hand back to slap me to the sand. I yelp at the contact, feeling blood touch my tongue as I try to sit up. We hear a splash from the water, everyone snapping their gaze over.

"No," I shout," no, Elijah, don't." the leader backhands me again, shushing me before looking back to the water. The center of the river bubbles furiously, ripples running up the shore. From behind us a few things clink and thump against trees and rocks. The crowd murmurs, pressing into one another as the noises rip their attention back and forth.

"Stop it, show yourself," the leader growls.

The noises stop, the bubbles dying out till the water is normal once again. Everyone waits with bated breath as all is heard is the crickets chirping.

All at once, a large creature leaps up very close to the crowd. Piles and piles of plant debris lay upon a standing figure, the muck making it look large. The crowd screams and shouts, stepping back at the monster looms over them all. I look at him worried and a bit amused. He threw on a bunch of gunk for this.

Elijah opens his yellow eyes, glaring down at the crowd before speaking in gibberish. He takes a step forward, everyone recoiling in fear. A few people run off into the woods while the rest cower in fear. He takes another step, glaring over at the leader who is crouching with the crowd. As he stomps towards him he flicks his hand behind himself, signaling me.

Elijah faces down the terrified man, reaching down and grabbing his collar. I sneak into the river, watching the sight while silently swimming out. The awful man snivels and whimpers while Elijah drags him towards himself. He lets out a horrendous roar in the man's face, spit and grass sticking to his face. Elijah drops the man with a huff. The man collapses to the ground, laying limply at the feet of his mob.

I watch Elijah continue his theatrics, slowly looking out at the crowd before trying to slink back into the water. As he begins to sink in the people come to their senses, jumping up and shouting as they ready their weapons. In a rush, Elijah jumps into the river, swimming towards me as shots are fired.

Elijah catches me around the waist, dragging me downstream as people fire off into the darkness. I hear the bullet pop at the water around us, Elijah grunts as his shoulder bucks forward. Neither of us can pay it any mind as he swims further and further away.

I watch the low glow of the torches fade as I'm dragged far, far away. We swim for what feels like hours, not stopping for a moment until Elijah begins to loosen his grip. His speed dwindles till we are just floating downstream, his hand slow drifts off my waist till he too is drifting away.

"Elijah," I panic, reaching for him," Elijah!" I hold onto him, lifting his head. He is still awake but his gaze is unfocused. I wrap my arm under his shoulder and begin swimming towards the shore. I fight with the stream, angling towards the muddy edge. My feet kick at the ground, gaining distance until I'm left panting in the shallows. I give myself just a second to catch my breath.

Jumping to action I do my best dragging Elijah up the shore. He helps a bit, digging his feet into the mud to push himself up. I manage to get him in a small opening in the woods, a good ways away from the water. I prop him up, getting him to sit as we both catch our breath. It's just one more moment of peace.

Getting straight to work I search over his shoulder, pushing away bits of muck to find the bleeding wound. Ripping at my wet skirt I use the rag to put pressure on his wound. He grunts, twitching his back. I sigh at the sound, he's alive.

"I told you not to come," I try to scold but it comes out weak. He chuffs. I pinch at his wound, satisfied when he grunts again in pain. "I'm serious, you could have been killed," I hold back the rag, satisfied with the wound lack of blood.

"I'm fine though," he glances at me over his shoulder," you would have died." I meet his eyes, trying to stay mad and determined but I can't. I would have died if he didn't come. I don't answer him, looking back to his wound and doing whatever I can to help.

The sun rises beautifully through the trees to light up the open space we sit in. Elijah looks around as I make a crude bandage for his shoulder.

"I think this place is perfect," he grumbles as he looks out to the woods.

"What are you on about," I answer, a little exhausted and angry.

"This place," he gestures around," perfect place to start a family." I stop breathing for a moment. Snapping my head up to him to see a sweet smirk twisting his lips. Confused, I look around the area then back to him.

"S-start a family," I nearly choke on the first words," for who?"

He twists completely around, cupping my cheek," us?"

I stare at him wide-eyed and flustered. He wants to…with me?

"What," I say with a wavy voice. He butts his head against mine, snaking his hand to the back of my neck.

"I want to give you what you've always wanted," he stares straight into my eyes, full of seriousness as he speaks," will you let me?"

"I-I," I nearly sob, my heart fluttering wildly in my chest," I'd love nothing more," I finish with a choked laugh.

I grab a fist full of the debris falling down the back of his head. We sit in the view of the rising sun, the dawn of a new day- a new chapter- starting before us. I press a timid kiss to his wet lips, thanking him for everything.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #exophilia #monster boyfriend #1800s monster #swamp monster #swamp monster boyfriend

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Stowaway.”

A couple of you guys wanted to see this go down, and I thought it wasn’t a bad idea, so why not :)

“Certainly not, they cannot be trusted.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Even if their story is true, I have no doubt that they have other motives. No one offers peace accords if there are not ulterior motives.”

“But they already said! They want to trade with us, and they want the precious mineral compounds found in our ice.”

“They want to enslave our planet more like.”

“You saw the creature, it had no fur, and it was freezing as soon as it took its layers off. I have no doubt that it has no interest in enslaving our planet. The environment is to inhospitable for it to consider spending so much time here.”

“Your logic is backward for a scientist…. But I suppose that should be expected of someone with your pedigree.”

“....You are wrong, and your hesitation will cost us. They saved our lives, the least we can do is hear them out.”

“And at the end of the day that is my decision and not yours. You overstep your bounds, and now you will return to your place, scientist.”

Yeb stood ears plastered back against her skull, the fur on her back puffing outward to strain against the inside of her jacket, but she didn’t protest. He may have been wrong about many things,but he was right about this one, she had no power here, and to assume as much would be too presumptuous.

She did know her place.

Had known it since she was a pup.

She raised her chin stiffly at the chancellor and turned on her heels, claws digging against the ice as she trudged from the council chambers and out into the blinding sunlight of early morning. The council had debated for many hours, until unanimously making a decision that she thought would be a great mistake. They had decided not to engage with the GA, and therefore cut off any chances they would have at learning from the more advanced race.

She brushed a dusting of snow from a rock just to her right and sat down staring up at the sky. Over her head the atmosphere was a light bluish purple. The sun blazed down with white blue intensity.

She could have learned so much from them. Perhaps a way to develop better vaccines as they had clearly found the cure to the plague faster than any of them could. If it had been up to her expertise, the entire world would be dead by now.

Yeb sighed deeply.

There were so many things she could have learned from them, so many things, but now that knowledge would be lost, and they would be left to trundle along in a dark age ad never know what glorious things they could have learned.This GA governmental body has offered them transport into the stars! Who would refuse such an offer.

It was a monumental mistake.

She sat there for a long moment, contemplating her next move. The future seemed bleak in comparison to the one they had been offered. How could she just go back to her normal life knowing what was out there? Could she just sit idly by in her ice cave, eating the same bland fish and listening to the same bland propaganda of a government that “couldn’t or wouldn’t” see what a tragedy it was to lose fifty percent of their lower class? It made her sick as she pictured the beautiful images she had seen in scientific journals of the vast cold darkness of space.

She stood.

That was it, if nothing she wanted to at least see the creatures off, tell them good luck, and thank them for what they had done. Maybe they would be more likely to return one day if ‘someone’ deigned to go and say goodby to them and actually thank them for what they had done.

With her mind made up, she stood, and with renewed vigor made her way over the icy tundra and towards the alien landing sight. Government officials were crawling all over the area, keeping the curious, prying eyes of the civilians well back where they couldn’t cause trouble or get any ideas. They tried to keep her back too, but she flashed a badge at the first two and managed to dodge two more before three burly agents stepped into her path.

All three of them had deep onyx fur and glowered at her with intense black eyes.

“This area is restricted.”

“I just want to talk to them. They know me.”

“This area is restricted.” They repeated.

“I am the scientist who first came in contact with them, please, I would really just like to speak with them.” She tried moving around, but it was no good, and they continued to block her path. Behind him, she could see the shuttle that had brought the aliens down. It was of trange construction, cold silver steel in sharp angular lines. The creatures swarmed around the ship carrying boxes, a few of them collected ice and snow in small clear tubes.

The commotion must have alerted them, and she saw their leader raise his head as the agents began to push her back.

She waved a desperate hand in the creature’s direction, and it broke into a trot over the icy ground its boots cringing over the snow.

“Hold on!” It called, and its booming voice was enough to make the agents stop and back away nervously.

The only thing she could see under its mask and hood was that sharp green eye.

“Everything alright?” he wondered

She sighed but nodded, “Well…. No…. not really. I just wanted to let you know that…. Well Not all of us agree with the chancellor. Don’t…. Well just don’t forget about us.”

She watched the creature’s face wrinkle about the eyes, and the feeling she got from the expression was… one of surprising pleasure.

“Don’t worry, we won’t forget about you. We are a bit harder to ignore than all that…. In a strictly annoying sort of way and less of the tyrannical, we are going to take over your world sort of way.”

The creature made a strange repeated whirring noise deep in his chest, and she yipped her own amusement.

He held out a hand to her and she stared at it, “It's a human greeting and farewell.”

Gingerly she reached forward and took his hand feeling as he wrapped his fingers around hers in a firm grip and shook once.

It was a strange gesture, yet one that simultaneously made her feel connected to him, in a way, not altogether unpleasant.

Then he let her go, turning back to his ship and striding over the ground with the confidence of a creature that had done this sort of thing many times, that was until he slipped on the ice and staggered awkwardly, arms flailing. She yipped again in amusement and he waved a hand turning around to see if anyone had seen.

She turned and made her way back up towards the plateau watching as the ice and tundra spread out before her, white on blue purple, and just as she was reaching the top, she stopped. She could go no further.

She glanced back to where the strange creatures were beginning to load their equipment back onto their ship, and then forward to where the government agents were busy pushing back a line of curious onlookers.

No one saw her.

Yeb sat in thought for a long moment, and before she really knew what she was doing, she turned around and raced back down the hill skidding and sliding on the ice with barely controlled speed. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, or what she was going to do, but as she reached the bottom of the hill, and saw an open box resting on the ground; she made a decision.

It wasn’t a good decision, nor was it a well thought out decision, and honestly later, she would come to realize that there were easier ways to do what she was about to do, the number one being to simply ask politely, but none of that crossed her mind as she dove into the box and pulled the lid over her head.

As far as she knew, no one had seen her, and before long she felt the crate lurch upwards and wobble its way towards the shuttle, while the creatures outside grunted at its unusually heavy weight.

She was set down inside, and, she thought, strapped down.

It didn’t occur to her again, until the engines ignited, just what she had done to herself.

Her stomach lurched into her feet and she screamed in fear and shock as the ground fell out from beneath her. All she could hear was the roaring of engines and feel the battering of the atmosphere around her as they cut through the atmosphere.

And then, after just a few minutes, the rattling died away, and she found herself floating inside the box like a free droplet of water in freefall.

With her tail tucked around her she hugged herself tight, screaming internally about what she had just done.

At some point, she felt the ship lurch, and aftera moment, she dropped back to the bottomotom of the box as gravity reinstated itselfreinstateditself.

Inside her box, the air grew stiflingly hot, and she began to pant vigorously as the heat seeped into her body. She hadn’t expected it to be so hot.

She felt her crate lurch again, and her ears were filled with the echo of a large space, and strange alien voices calling out to each other. She shrunk back into her box, there must have been hundreds of them…. And now she was a stowaway.

She really hadn’t thought this through. What was she going to eat? What was she going to drink? What would happen if they found her skulking on board the ship without invitation. The creatures had seemed hospitable originally, but that didn’t really mean anything if they thought she was some kind of spy.

Her insides churned a bit as the crate was set down and the voices retreated.

The box continued to gro hotter and hotter.

She tried to wait it out as best she could, but soon, it became to much, and with a gasp of air she threw off the lid of her crate and gasped for fresh air.It was, somewhat fresher than it had been inside the crate, but the heat was still unbearable.

Panting fit to burst, she tripped off her jacket,undershirt, gloves and any other layer she could think of, tossing them into the box.

It was marginally more bearable, but still,she felt as if she could barely breathe.

This was a worse idea she had ever had.

How could she have been so stupid. The creatures were clearly very cold on her planet, what made her think that she would be comfortable in their environment.

She heard footsteps,and quietly dropped to one knee, still panting.

“You see that place. Frozen hellhole for sure.”

“I wouldn't mind the cold so much, but the place looked like a prison with ice.”

“Hmm if their government leaders knew what they were missing maybe they wouldn’t be so hasty to tell us to shove off.”

A familiar voice broke in with them, “I don’t know, i thought it was kinda cool, like Hoth from star wars.”

“Admiral, haven't we established that you are like…. The only person on this ship who knows what that means.”

“You know what it means.”

“Thats because you forced us into a star wars marathon.”

“You can thank me later.”

There was some grumbling from the group of humans as they passed by, and Yeb finally got a good look at the creatures without all their layers on. They were, surprisingly, a lot thinner than she had first thought, long and lanky in their limbs and really rather bony. The right skin of their faces extended into their arms and necks. From here she could see the small little hairs on their ams though they would be pointless for keeping anyone warm.

But they were powerfully built.

As a biologist, she would have guessed that these creatures were built for a hot desert environment rather than the cold. The thought made her rather uncomfortable. Her home planet had no deserts at all, an the environment was only theoretical based on their observation of other worlds similar in size to their own.

The humans passed by her, leaving her alone.

And, quietly, she moved forward, sneaking through the ship and the warrens of tunnels.

The tunnels were very angular, all of their construction was very angular, ninety degrees or close to ninety degrees.

It was all… odd, and alien, and she found herself lost in the corridors not sure where she was going.

Hot metal was close to burning her feet, sweltering around her.

She felt fent.

Following voice, she peered around the corner and into a large room, where many of the creatures sat together huddled in groups consuming unknown alien food. Behind them, a large viewing window stared out into blackness. She closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath. She felt sick.

It was just so hot.

When no one was looking, she slipped inside and back behind a long countertop and snuck along the side unil….. Until she felt a waft of cold air. She paused and turned her head towards a large silver door. She inched forward and pressed up against it. It was like ice, so cold. In desperation she reached up to the door and popped it open to a waft of freezing air.

In relief, she scampered inside and closed the door behind her sliding to the ground in relief as the biting air rushed through her fur.

She was feeling a little better now, and looking around her, she could see stacks and stacks of crates full of…. strange …. Food?”

She would assume it was food. WIth everything so hot here, they must need a palace to preserve their organic materials from decomposition.

She inched forward across the floor and stuck her head around through some of the crates sniffing at its contents. She would…. Probably be able to eat something here if she was careful about it. She was an omnivore like the creatures, and assumed that they were both based on the same principles of food consumption.

Either way, she was going to figure it out soon to her detriment or not.

This strange frozen storage was going to become her main base of operations, though she did find another location near the medical bay. That one was a little less pleasant though since, from the scientific equipment lying around, she made the correct assumption that they used it to store bodies when someone died aboard the ship.

A morbid thought, but it made sense.

She would stick with hiding in the freezer for the time being.

There Was food there, and no dead people.

From her vantage point sneaking in and out of her hiding space, she was able to watch the creatures from a distance, sure they weren’t putting on a show for her and knowing that their behavior was genuine. As far as she could tell they were social and relatively tame.

They sat in groups, conversed and talked like any one of her people, except maybe a bit more enthusiastically.

They ate together and played games.

And even had the same sort of reactions with other species.

There were a few fuzzy looking aliens that weren’t far off from her species, though they seemed more used to the heat.

Then there were the small scaly creatures, who were just as social, and the large beasts with six arms, towering over even their human counterparts.

From the shadows she watched them as they fought each other with sharpened sticks made from metal their ferocity scaring her as she pressed back into the shadows.

It was a strange an eclectic place of many different peoples.

She saw religion, and culture and tradition as she watched from the shadows.

But she also saw ferocity, anger, and bitterness on quiet occasions, listening in on moments she knew to be private but could not help but listen in on.

And there was something, strange, about the humans.

She wouldn’t have been able to put into words if asked but…. It seemed as if they were disconnected from themselves, like a driver pilots a machine, one with it but no in the same. It was so strange, the sudden blankness that would come over their faces as if nothing was behind the eyes, especially in quiet moments when they were alone with themselves.

She spent days like this, hours on end watching them from a distance hiding in the freezer when it was dark and spending occasion out in the heat.

She used bags of ice shoved into bags to keep herself cool on these forays as the ship always remained rather hot.

She hoped that, in this way she could survive, worried she would be punished if they found her out.

That was until one day.

One day sitting in the air ducts watching the humans pass by that she heard a sound.

A soft scraping.

She turned her head towards the end of the small maintenance tunnel, just as a figure cme around the corner.

It was small, and furry, and brightly colored, and as soon as it came around the corner it froze and locked eyes with her.

Its ears trembled.

She went to run.

“Run and die.” it said eyes narrowing, and despite how small and fluffy it was, shefroze.

She didn’t know what this thing could do, and it didn’t seem concerned with her.

So, Yeb believed it.

She believed she was going to die.

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 11

First

Rena was running out of time.

(To make TikToks. She wasn’t dying for anything except content.)

She’d figured that she would do Q&A type things, it was close enough to the content she’d used to make but far enough away that no one would suspect anything about her identity. It was perfect!

But the other heroes were… let’s say ‘less than eager’ to divulge much information to her. Especially not when they were being filmed.

Ladybug had pulled her aside one day to explain why.

“Rena…” She reached out and gently rested a hand on her shoulder.

Rena knew what that meant, she’d gotten it enough back when she was just a civilian. For just a second, she was thrown back to the first time one of her family members had died, to the way she had promised that she wouldn’t come back until she had her sister safely in her arms...

But she knew that it couldn’t be like that. Ladybug didn’t know who she was just like Rena didn’t know her identity. It was nothing that serious.

“We can’t give much information to the public. Hawkmoth could be watching.”

A fair point. It hurt, though.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So we don’t show him our weaknesses, it’s not that hard.”

“We have to assume any information could be used against us.”

Rena frowned. “By that logic we can’t upload any content…?”

“We can’t upload any content of substance, no. Messing around in a store is fine. Videos of animals are fine. Anything beyond that is… potentially problematic.”

The idea of style over substance was foreign to the hero. Her whole brand used to be substance over style, done with a phone camera but close enough to fights for people to actually get a glimpse of the heroes in action. What was she supposed to do?

“What’s your niche, then?” Said Rena, hoping to get an idea.

“I was going to do some videos on mental and physical wellness.”

Yeah, no. That was a very ‘Ladybug’ thing to do, Rena probably couldn’t encroach on that in any way. But… what else was there?

Ladybug opened her mouth like she was about to say something, and then she shook her head and disappeared to her room.

Rena watched her leave in silence, and then fell back on the couch. She rested her hands over her eyes, something that was very uncomfortable due to the weird fabric of the mask on her face, and tried to think.

Ladybug had been fair. They already had enough of a gap between the information Hawkmoth had versus the amount they did, they shouldn’t make that worse… but then what was the point of them doing social media accounts?

And, she mused, why hadn’t Ladybug just told Master Fu her concerns?

Something wasn’t adding up, but she didn’t exactly know what.

The reporter in her was itching to find out. She didn’t want to invade Ladybug’s privacy, especially not when the other already seemed wary enough around her, but it was hard to just let go…

So, what could she do?

She grumbled as she went to Carapace’s room, not even bothering to knock as she walked in. It wouldn’t matter if she did, her miraculous made it so that most people’s eyes and ears slid right over her unless she actively worked to get them to notice her.

He was in his hero costume, though that wasn’t surprising considering he’d gotten back from patrols only a few minutes ago.

Carapace jumped a little in surprise when she came to a stop by his desk and looked up from where he was booting up his computer.

“Salut?” He said slowly.

“Salut! I need help.”

He raised his eyebrows a little and then shrugged. With a tiny wave of his hand, a second chair made of a bunch of different plates appeared behind her.

She took a seat and crossed her legs. “Everyone talks to you, right?”

“I guess…?”

“So do you know what everyone’s doing for their TikTok accounts?”

“I’m going to get footage of us acting friendly, Chat is filming animals he sees on patrols, Ladybug is ‘promoting mental and physical wellness’, and Chloe…” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t know what Chloe’s doing, but she started laughing maniacally when I asked so I’m not eager to find out.”

Rena pouted a little bit. Great, so everyone’s taken all the good and easy ideas. What else was there?

“I don’t know what to do with my account. Ladybug says I can’t do interviews and stuff because Hawkmoth could use stuff against us.”

Carapace briefly looked confused, and then understanding crossed his face. “Well, I can tell you that no one here would disagree with that.”

“I know, I know, it makes sense,” she sulked, resting her head on her hand. “But then what do I do?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Being the ‘smart one’ is kind of your thing.”

She frowned at that, but brushed past it. “I don’t really care about my image, it’s not that important to me --.”

“It should be.”

Her gaze shot up to see his expression was uncharacteristically serious.

He seemed to realize this, too, because he cleared his throat and brought a smile to his face again.

“I know you’re new, so let me give you some advice: keep your life as a hero and a civilian as far apart as you possibly can. Since we’re everyone’s therapists and all, it’s kind of depressing when you start thinking about everything the civvies tell you when you’re off the job.”

Carapace reached out slowly, giving her time to draw back, and rested a hand on top of her head.

“So, lean into your image. Lean into it so hard you become a parody of yourself. It’s better for everyone that way. Trust me.”

She reached up and pulled his hand off, frowning deeply. “If you think that then why did you agree to live with us? Why are you taking videos of us all being friends?”

“Well, I live with everyone because it was a good solution for some concerns I had about college… not that we really had a choice. Master Fu wasn’t going to give it up.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “And I’m taking videos of everyone because it’ll help when we need to do our whole therapy thing. People talk more when they feel close to you.”

Rena stared at him in shock. That was… surprisingly cold and calculated for the supposed ‘nice’ hero. Then again, by his own admission, he didn’t even see himself as that nice of a person.

Were all the other heroes like that? Lying about their personalities for the sake of the public or their mental health? And, if they were, were they keeping up the act while there too or did they consider living in the house their new ‘civilian’ life?

She pushed herself to her feet abruptly, startling Carapace a second time. She crossed her arms.

“I’ve got an idea for what to do. Thanks.”

“Huh? But I didn’t --?”

She was already gone.

Despite the temptation to disobey that she was pretty sure wasn’t entirely her fault, Rena had gone to Ladybug a few days later with a proposal:

“I still want to be an informant to the people.” She saw Ladybug begin to protest, so she rushed to finish the rest of her sentence: “Obviously, I won’t be giving them anything of substance, but it could help to make them feel closer to us as heroes.”

Ladybug couldn’t turn down the reasoning. It was what Carapace had listed as his own.

And, to her delight, Ladybug seemed to agree because she clicked her tongue and nodded.

“Fine. What’re you planning to do?”

“Simple stuff. A house tour -- making sure to blur and hide anything that could give Hawkmoth our location -- and then after that keep them updated on the news.”

There was a silence as she considered this. Then her head tipped to the side. “What do you mean by ‘news’?”

“Nothing major. Have you ever seen a drama channel on YouTube? Stuff like that.”

“... fine, but you should run your videos by everyone involved before uploading.”

Rena nodded her understanding.

She started with the house tour. If she was going to do this, she needed to gain their trust. A few normal videos, and then she’d start trying to slip the public information about the heroes’ true personalities.

Rena didn’t want to expose them to Hawkmoth, and especially didn’t want to expose their families, so she really was going to try to respect most of their privacy. For this reason, she did tell them all when she was going to do the house tour so they could hide anything that could be used to figure out their identities.

She started with the shared rooms like the kitchen and living room, but she brushed past all of that quickly since she knew that wasn’t what they’d be interested in.

Her room was first. It was the same size as every other bedroom in the house, but it felt tiny and cramped. There was a dresser, a desk, a bed, three different bookshelves, an end table… well, let’s just say that she’d brought more stuff than necessary. The room wasn’t exactly neat, it seemed that it would buckle under the weight of Rena’s knickknacks if she wasn’t careful, but it wasn’t necessarily dirty either; everything had its place.

She decided to put the more boring rooms in the middle for the good old watchtime. Ladybug’s room was fine but her personality was a bit dull when it came to this kind of thing, and Carapace’s personality was fine but his room was boring, so...

She was off to Ladybug’s room. She climbed up to the attic and finally figured out exactly what Ladybug had been working on since they’d moved in. Apparently she was trying to make an indoor jungle gym using the support beams on the ceiling. It actually looked like a pretty good workout, though maybe a little unsafe. Beyond that, the room was rather full. Random pieces of furniture (mostly chairs) were strewn about, loaded with a precarious amount of fabrics.

She found Ladybug hunched over a sketchbook on her bed, swaddled in blankets despite the fact that the attic was actually pretty warm.

She looked up at her and blinked. “Oh. Now? Okay.” She escaped her blanket prison with minimal struggling and then gave a short tour of her room.

Rena pointed to a divider on the other side of the room. “What’s behind there?”

Ladybug looked over and a blush spread across her face. “I don’t have a closet, so that’s where I put the secret identity stuff for now. Don’t go back there.”

For some reason, Rena thought she was being lied to. However, she couldn’t just go back there when Ladybug had just said that it would reveal her identity, so she just nodded and said: “Gotcha. Thanks for the tour.”

She moved on to Carapace’s room next. She pushed the door to his room open and sent a smile and a wave. All his textbooks were safely stashed out of sight and he’d cleaned up the normal mess of old snacks for the video, which somehow made his room feel even emptier than usual.

“Here we have a wild Carapace in his natural habitat. Though, why this is what he chose as his natural habitat is beyond me.”

He laughed good-naturedly. “I don’t need much.”

“I can see that.”

He smiled. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous!” He said, doing his best impression of Chloe.

Rena cleared her throat, and then did a perfect impression of her voice.

Carapace’s eyes widened. “Chloe?”

She tried not to laugh, and instead nodded and continued her impression: “Yes. I’m secretly Chloe. Rena asked me to take her place for this because she was tired.”

He didn’t seem sure whether or not to take this as a joke, and she gleefully left the room.

She moved on to Chloe’s room. It was… somehow both bright and dark in there and this threw Rena off more than she’d like to admit. While most people would take Rena for the hoarder (and they’d probably be right to), Chloe also seemed to have some hoarding problems; the walls were taken up with different luxury items from jewelry to handbags; the floor was littered with different plants at seemingly random intervals.

Chloe looked up from where she was tending to some plants with the help of a few bees (wait, was there an actual BEEHIVE in there?).

“I like your… bees…?”

Chloe snickered. “Thanks. They don’t like you, though, so I’d suggest you leave.”

Rena was a little offended that the bees didn’t like her, but she didn’t need to be told twice.

She headed to Chat’s room next.

When she opened the door she had thought that he wasn’t there. The lights were off outside of a TV which, upon closer inspection, she realized someone was playing a video game. Huh. She turned on the light.

Once she was actually able to see, she was taken aback by how dirty it was. Clothes littered the ground; the bed looked like it hadn’t been made since they moved in; there was a grand piano but it was currently being used as a trash can for old snack bags.

“Did you forget that I was doing a house tour today?”

“Nope,” said Chat from somewhere in the filth.

“Oh… okay…”

The video cut.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0

#a miraculous tiktok account #rena rouge #alya cesaire #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #carapace #nino lahiffe #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #chat noir #adrien agreste #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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loving-daisy · 3 years

Text

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist

Chapter 6 - Bad Boy, You Make Me A Mad Girl

Words: 8.9k

Warnings: angst

Instead of good bye, I wear an innocent smile

“Fred...hey” Y/N reluctantly greeted, slightly feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.

As another school year has come to an end, the Hogwarts express stood at platform 9 and ¾. Students of Hogwarts came out rushing to their families, but not until expressing their farewells to the family they had in the wizarding school.

On the way to the platform between 9 and 10, Y/N sat with Daphne and her sister, along with her cat and fairy, at one of the end compartments. The one where groups of Slytherins always occupy to avoid the storm of energetic Gryffindors with their side-kicks from the house of Helga.

The Slytherin-Gryffindor couple already said their farewells in advance the night prior, not really expecting to bump into one another at the station as it was always packed with people. However, a certain redhead female (and the only Weasley girl currently studying in Hogwarts) pulled the girl apart from her Slytherins, bringing her to face the rest of the Weasley family.

Right now, she found herself under the gaze of one of the twins, however, not the one she has given her heart to.

“My friend, Icestone!” The older Weasley twin greeted with joy. “You haven’t spoken to me since what? Since…”

“That one Quidditch match where you twins yelled at me.” Y/N completed his sentence in a teasing manner, an attempt to release the tension and awkwardness building inside her, an attempt to push whatever thought was advancing forward in her mind.

“Hey! We apologized!” Fred argued, waving his hands in disbelief. Y/N crossed her arms, raising a brow towards him. “No, George, apologized!” She argued back.

The boy gave a grunt, his shoulders slumping. “Truce?” He suggested, laying his hands in front of the girl. For a short moment, the Slytherin stared at it, contemplating whether or not to accept it, Fred’s personal image in her mind fueling her to decline.

The Master mind of him and George’s pranks, the game planner, the director, the instructor, the mischief maker, and the twin who suggested to continue playing with Y/N Icestone’s heart.

Somehow, the girl couldn’t find it in her heart to reject Fred’s offering hand, even after recalling the news that had been delivered to her a few weeks prior today. Shutting the thought with force, she gave a nod, grabbing the ginger’s hand to shake. “Truce.”

“Keep your hands off my girl, Fred!” George demanded, slapping the back of his twin’s hand as it held Y/N’s. In which the older twin gave another grunt.

“Okay, okay! I’ll let you two have your moment. Impatient git.” Fred obliged, moving away as he muttered the last sentence under his breath, shaking his head from side to side.

The couple now stood face to face, small and shy smiles plastered around them as they stared at each other's eyes. Before George was able to break the short silence, he was interrupted by his sister.

“Y/N!” Ginny called, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands as she looked up to her before looking down at the bracelet she was gifted, that gives her the ability to talk to the Slytherin’s cat. “I’m going to miss you. And Lixie too.” Ginny confessed, sudden melancholy in her whole being.

Y/N felt her stature soften, her usual confidence and overflowing charm of authority breaking down for the young girl. She slightly bent her knees to reach the young Gryffindor, wrapping her arms around her. “I’m going to miss you too.” She muttered behind the redhead, softly brushing her locks with her fingers.

While Ginny was pressed against her figure, Y/N caught the sight of green orbs under black round glasses, burning holes at the girl in front of her. She then moved her eyes to the youngest ginger boy who gave her a shy smile, in which she returned with a small one.

After the hug broke apart, Y/N kept her level to whisper to Ginny. “Now, if you need someone to tell your secrets to, you know...girl stuff, you know who to owl. I’ll send photographs of Lixie too.”

Before the Slytherin was claimed by George, who desperately wanted to have their one-on-one moment, the mother of the family came in sight, querying. “Who is this?” Molly asked.

After noticing how each passerby had their eyes glued on the girl, whispering Merlin-knows-what to whoever they were with at the moment, curiosity enveloped the woman’s mind, not really familiar with the feeling of attention.

Y/N regained her composure, giving a small bow to Molly as she offered a small smile and her hand. “Hello, Mrs. Weasley. I’m Y/N. Y/N Icestone.” She introduced, Molly introducing herself after she shook the Slytherin’s hand.

“Y/N Icestone? The daughter of John?” Arthur asked, sudden interest all over his eyes. Y/N nodded in response. “Yes, Mr. Weasley. I assume you know who my father is?”

“Oh yes, dear. Very great man, he is. Greatly respected at the Ministry. Do send him my regards, will you?”

Y/N gave the head of the Weasley family another nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, please. You can call me, Arthur.”

“So…” Molly began, an intimidating tone in her voice that made the girl in question have shivers crawling at the back of her neck. Regardless, she projected a calm and collected self.

“You’re not actually in love with one of my boys are you? Definitely not Ron since he’s too young for you but is it one of the twins?” Molly questioned, her hands on her waist as she shot narrowed eyes at the girl, however, a teasing smirk on the woman’s face.

“Mum!” George groaned in embarrassment, pulling Y/N away from the rest of the Weasleys. In order for Y/N to not feel rude, she grinned at Molly, shrugging before waving her hand in goodbye.

“Sorry about them. They’re really all over the place, gosh this is so embarrassing.” George quietly said, his eyes locked at the marble floor, hoping to hide his red face.

“Don’t worry about it, George. It just felt so foreign but I really love their warmth.” Y/N comforted, placing her hand on top of George’s fidgeting one.

For the nth time, before George was able to say another word, he was interrupted. This time, by Mira who came flying down in the girls face. “Y/N, your driver has arrived and is currently loading your items.” The Slytherin nodded in response, telling her to wait in the car before turning her attention back to the ginger who sighed in disappointment.

“I guess that’s your cue.” George muttered, sadness in the tone of his voice. Y/N gave the ginger’s hand a squeeze causing him to look up at her, to which she greeted with a grin. “See you after the summer?”

“Promise to write to me?” George asked in hesitance. The girl nodded, wrapping her arms around the boy’s neck to press their lips together, which made him feel better.

“Promise.” Y/N reassured, bidding her last farewells before heading to her family car, to which the Greengrass sisters we’re waiting inside.

“Explain yourself.” Daphne demanded, hands in her waist as she gave her best friend a disapproving look.

Y/N raised a brow, crossing her arms against her chest. “What is there to explain?”

“I’m not stupid, Icestone. I know you know about the twins’ stupid plan against you. They’re playing with you, remember? George is just playing with you! Wake up!” Daphne scolded, causing Y/N to sigh in frustration. She pressed two fingers in her right temple, massaging them as she contained her building anger.

Silence enveloped the atmosphere of the black leather seat car, the sound of its engine being its only noise. Tension, however, was highly present in between the two Slytherins.

After a few moments, Y/N noticed how the raven-haired girl was still giving her the same displeased look, which in turn, highly annoyed her.

“What?” She asked coldly, trying to prevent herself from saying foul words as it was Daphne she was talking to. It was her best friend she was talking to. She has so much respect for the dark haired girl as she was one of her genuine friends. She can’t just let unfiltered words go flee in her mouth like she does with strangers who judge her. She just can’t. And so she contained herself together with her building nerves.

“You know what.” answered Daphne in the same tone.

Y/N, who had her eyes locked forward, gave the girl a side glare, rolling her eyes as clenched her fists. “This, Daphne, is in no way or form, your business.” She muttered, her voice full of venom.

None of the girls inside the Icestone family service car knew that this day would be the last time they would speak to each other over the course of a few weeks.

____________________

Summer break for Y/N was still the way it was before. She would be woken up every morning by her fairy, who hands in her breakfast, then would be forced into the morning tub for a nice but short bath. From Monday to Friday, she’d be force to have at least 1 advance study lesson with her tutor, Mr. Princeton, and 1 activity such as painting, playing a variety of instruments, or a physical activity. Her favorite was riding a horse. By 4 PM, she’d be free to do whatever she pleases. In Y/N Icestone’s case, it was reading.

Everything was just the way it is except for one tiny thing. Letters. She still received letters, but not from the usual raven-haired girl, to which if Y/N was completely honest, disappointing. However, she was the reason for their petty fight anyways but being someone who is prideful, she dared not to send the first one. But to make up for it, fortunately for her, there was a certain ginger, who owled her almost everyday. It was bitter but sweet. At least she had George.

Dear Y/N,

How have you been? I didn’t want to admit this but I really miss you.

Mum has been nagging me and Fred lately. Scolding us for not taking a lot of O.W.L.S and for working on our products for Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Recently, she confiscated our order forms with our toffees. I feel really bummed out. You know me and Fred have been working on those for a long time, right? I just wished she supported us a little more…

On the bright side, dad has scored us some tickets for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Are you perhaps going to be in attendance? It would be really great to receive one of your warm hugs right now. You know...the ones where you nuzzle your face in my neck or vice versa. I really wish you were here with me.

I can’t wait to see you.

Love,

The most good-looking bloke, who has an identical twin (reckon this wizard who sends you this letter is more good-looking though), and the tall awesome wicked Gryffindor ginger who loves Y/N Icestone with all his heart, George.

The receiving end of the letter, which was messily written in an old looking piece of parchment, was currently seated in her study, a room inside her personal quarters, that had a huge desk in the middle. This letter she received was her favorite yet. It was sent a week ago and yet she read it over and over again, the same fluttering feeling in her heart every time, as she grinned from ear to ear.

Her moment, unfortunately, was ruined when her pet Siamese cat entered the room quietly, jumping on her desk to block the girl’s sight of the letter.

“Are you honestly still with that pathetic boy?” Lixie asked, a scolding tone in his voice.

Y/N huffed in annoyance. “He’s not pathetic! Whatever you heard that day, none of it was true! He would never do that to me.” She defended, keeping the letter in one of the drawers under her desk.

“How do you know what's fake and true then? Listen, Y/N. We’re only trying to protect you. Me and Mira heard it with our own ears! We saw them with our own eyes! They’re playing with you, Y/N. He’s gonna break your heart!” the cat reasoned, concerned yet angry at the girl.

“Oh, c’mon, Felix. Do you really think that the Weasley twins would go to such an extent just to satisfy their pranking needs?” Y/N argued, blinded of her cat’s reality, all because of her fondness for ginger.

Felix. Y/N called her cat with his full name, something that she doesn’t do often unless she’s crossed. She must be enraged. Furious, even.

“Yes.” answered Lixie, earning a loud groan from the girl.

Y/N leaned back at her big black leather chair, eyes planted on the ceiling as she breathed in and out. “You must be out of your mind.” She muttered in disbelief, shaking her head from left to right..

“No, you are out of your mind!” Lixie exclaimed. “I can not believe that you agreed to be actually one of those git’s girlfriend. For Merlin’s sake, Y/N, you are an Icestone! A Slytherin! And he’s just...George.”

Y/N’s heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles. It was as if one of her heart strings broke. She knew about how her social status compared to George was way, way, different and she didn’t give no care about it. She just hated the way others would judge the Gryffindor based on his status when they all should look past those and actually appreciate who he is. George Weasley, who has a bright personality and a big kind heart.

“He might be ‘just George’ for you but to me, he’s more than that. He’s actually a great person if you get to know him more.” Y/N defended once again.

“What makes you think that you know him?”

“Because I really do!” She scowled. Right now, she was really feeling the stress and anger build up. After the cat delivered the news at the hallway, Y/N didn’t know what to believe in. She was confused like a lost puppy. At first, she was skeptical, thinking that Lixie and Mira might have misheard the twins but when it became the night, Y/N couldn’t help but think about it. She trusted George, yes, but right now she was having doubts. It was like she was in a carousel, spinning round and round.

“No. You. Don’t.” Lixie stated. Highlighting each word with stern as he spoke.

“You didn’t even know them when they played their stupid prank on you. You didn’t even know them before you met them even if they were already so popular all around school. You don’t know what they’re capable of, Y/N.” He reasoned.

The girl closed her eyes, her icy eyes melting but shielded from falling away. She remained silent. Unable to utter another word to defend herself and her relationship with the boy. “Save yourself from the heartbreak, Y/N. You must end this.”

Save yourself from the heartbreak. The girl scoffed at the thought. One way or another, whatever path she chooses with the ginger boy, her heart would still break. Somehow that’s always her end game. She always loses. She always gets her heart broken.

Suddenly, a woman, who was wearing an emerald dress that was long enough to cover her ankles, opened the door to Y/N’s study. Which was peculiar, because Y/N Icestone’s mother tended to ask Mira to call her instead.

“Y/N dear, come down. We have visitors.” Her mother ordered, immediately closing her door once she finished her words. Clearly not bothering to spare a glance at her daughter’s defeated state who still had her eyes closed.

The Icestone heir made her way outside her main room and to the body mirror displayed outside her closet. She straightened the black dress she was wearing before heading out her quarters to greet the unknown guests.

“They’re here? It’s today?” Lixie asked Mira, keeping his voice low in case that the girl was still an earshot away. Mira, who had an apologetic look on her face, only gave the cat a small nod.

In one of the Icestone manor’s living rooms for highly appreciated guests, stood John Icestone, Aurelia Icestone, and Y/N Icestone. Side by side they waited for whoever was visiting to be escorted inside. The feigned the kind and innocent smile that she usually gives. The one she was educated and practiced to do ever since she was a little witch, due to her father’s role in the Ministry of Magic.

Her smile, however, faded into a thin line when the guests entered but she quickly regained her composure as she welcomed the powerful pureblood family who was represented by the words Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. Purity will always conquer.

“Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, and Draco.” Y/N greeted one by one, shaking the hands of the Malfoy family.

____________________

Y/N slumped at the chair behind her desk, tired and completely drained from today’s events. For a few moments she stared at her white ceiling, her thoughts running 9.8 meters per second squared as she was free falling into the depths of despair. Right now, all she wanted to do was cry in George Weasley’s warm embrace but she can’t. She can’t even cry. She can’t because she had none left. She was empty.

In hopes to distract herself from her own misery, she looked over her wide mahogany desk that was disheveled. Books were piling up at a corner, empty rolls of parchment scattered all over, and just some random knick knacks. The headline of yesterday’s Evening Prophet caught her attention, her eyes widening as shock creeped all over her body.

SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP

Almost immediately, she grabbed a piece of parchment, scribbling a note of concern, before asking her fairy to have it delivered by the Icestone family owl.

I heard about what happened last night. Please tell me you’re not hurt. Deliver me news that not a single one of you is hurt. Just tell me, if you came home safe and in one piece. Please. As soon as you read this letter. I’m really worried about you.

Y/N

The morning after, Y/N laid on her bed, eyes wide open as she stared at the ceiling, even after minutes since her fairy delivered her breakfast on the bedside table. She didn’t have the courage nor the energy to face whatever challenge is going to be handed down upon her today. Yesterday’s battle was ruthless. She was defeated. And she still hasn’t recovered.

She sighed, turning to her side as she stared at the bowl of strawberries Mira left. Immediately sitting up after eyeing a small roll of old parchment she was familiar with.

Y/N,

It’s George. I’m fine. Everyone is fine, just a bit shaken up. Good thing no one got hurt.

Please don’t worry about me, love. Hopefully this weekend turns out nicer, yeah?

We’ll see each other this Monday. Can’t wait to see you.

George

Y/N felt a relief envelope all over her body, sighing in contentment.

____________________

Fortunately for the Icestone, Monday came quickly. Ever since the Malfoy’s visited the Icestone manor, her mind has become a blur. Her summer has become a blur. She can’t even remember the good times she spent.

Somehow, no matter how hard she tries to push the happy thoughts in front of her head, the memory of the events and words spoken towards her remain superior. And so, she was just glad that she was back. She was grateful that she was away. At least for now.

Y/N Icestone was seated somewhere around the Slytherin table, her chin rested on a palm as she waited. As usual, she was alone. I mean, she was surrounded by other people but she was lonely. She was quiet, only talking to herself for once in a while but only to come back staring into the space.

The students of Hogwarts were seated at their assigned house tables, waiting for the feast to be served. All were happy, excited, and just grateful to have another year in the wizarding school. Groups of friends were chit chatting with one another, talking about how their summer was spent and how much they were looking forward to this year. The hall was greatly filled with noise from all over the place.

It was not until the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, ordered the hall some silence. Announcing how an important event is to be hosted by Hogwarts this year. The Triwizard Tournament. Where one champion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Durmstrang Institute, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, will compete in three different tasks to win the cup.

“Great. And here I thought that I’ll have a quiet year.” Y/N muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

“I know right.” muttered a voice, making her turn towards where it came from.

“Daph- Daphne.” Y/N stuttered. “You’re here.” She said.

The raven-haired girl gave her a small shrug, a small smile displayed on her face. “Oh yeah, I am. It’s not like I can skip a grade or anything. They’d disown me!” She sarcastically said, obviously joking, to diffuse the tension. However, Y/N slightly felt uncomfortable, suddenly recalling the events at the Icestone service car during the 1st day of summer break. But Y/N held her head high, gaining the courage and confidence to speak further.

“Look...about that day…” She began. Daphne blinked at her twice, slightly tilting her head to the side as confusion flooded her mind. “What about that day?” Daphne asked.

“I’m...sorry for snapping at you. I was frustrated, lost, and just...heartbroken. I didn’t know what to believe, who to believe, and I just felt so lonely again. I knew you were always there to look out for me but I was happy that besides you, there was another, who didn’t have other intentions with me. I guess that’s what I thought.”

“The summer...it was awful. I didn’t have anyone to tell my deepest secrets to, I didn’t have anyone to hangout with in the pool, I didn’t have you. And I miss you. I really do. My actions...were not thought properly and now I’m faced with its consequences. But then again, I was taught to never get stuck in the past and move forward. Being Y/N Icestone, you know I don’t finish what I have started so right now, I’m going to swallow my pride and make amends. So sincerely, I apologize to you, Daphne. For doing you wrong. If you could ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I would be really grateful. If not...then...I’ll work harder for it.” Y/N said, her voice being an outlet of what's in her heart and on her mind, never faltering as she apologized to her best friend.

Daphne rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Icestone, honestly?” She began.

“I thought you know how I don’t even hold grudges too long. If you would have sent me an owl during the summers, I would have replied before you could even say ‘quidditch’. Besides, I can’t lose someone like you. You’re my best friend. So yes, you’re forgiven. Now...you better not have plans tonight because you and I are going to hang in your quarters and tell each other how our summer has been.”

Y/N agreed. “Of course, I’d love that!”

And so, the two Slytherin best friends pulled each other into a tight hug, wide smiles in their faces as they finally made up. Y/N felt as if a weight had been lifted in her shoulders, her heart being filled with warmth at the missed presence of the raven-haired girl.

Abruptly, most of the crowd situated in the hall belted out disagreeing statements and a series of “boos”, making the two pull away and turn their attention around their surroundings.

“That’s rubbish! That’s rubbish, I tell ya!” Y/N particularly heard a familiar voice from the house of Gryffindor.

“What did they say?” Daphne asked the boy beside her.

“Underage wizards can’t participate in the Triwizard tournament. You must be seventeen and above to enter.” He briefly stated, turning his attention back to the headmaster.

Y/N’s eye caught George’s from the Gryffindor table who gave her a wink, pointing to himself and Fred then to the front where Dumbledore stood. A smirk plastered around Y/N’s face, a thought crossing her mind. Of course. With George being George and Fred being Fred and the both of them being twins, it’s obvious that they’d do something as stupid like joining the tournament.

The Slytherin scoffed at the thought. Wouldn’t be surprised if they actually cook up a potion tomorrow morning.

____________________

Later that evening, through owl, Y/N and George agreed to not meet each other at their usual hideout for the reason that the Slytherin just made up with her best friend and would like to spend the night doing hot girl shit, and for the reason that the Gryffindor will try to manage a mischief him and his twin are planning that involves joining the announced school event.

As much as the two wanted to spend time together, they thought that a day wouldn’t hurt as they had the rest of the year and maybe the next 2 years or so together. At least that’s what they thought. But both parties agreed to make up for it the next day anyways.

“What’s with the face, Icestone?” Daphne asked as she brushed her hair, eyeing her best friend from the mirror, who was simply seated at her bed and staring into space. Again.

Y/N parted with her thoughts as the raven-haired girl spoke. “What? What’s wrong with being pretty?” She conceitedly asked, huffing, to which Daphne paid no attention to.

Daphne had a reluctant look on her face, debating within her head whether or not to bring up the subject and the cause of their misunderstanding at the start of summer break. She decided to go for it. “You..looked so troubled. Erm...did you…”

“No, I haven’t.” Y/N answered immediately, knowing exactly what her best friend was about to ask. She sighed in frustration, a couple of thoughts re-entering her mind.

“Oh.”

Y/N sat up straight, shaking her head. “But that’s not what I was thinking about. In fact, over the course of the summer, my problems have been piling up and I can’t seem to solve at least one!” She exclaimed, her hands waving in the air.

Daphne dropped the brush on top of the dresser, moving to sit next to the Icestone heir. “What? Your Arithmancy problems? I thought you had a tutor…”

“No, not my arithmancy problems! My life problems!” Y/N left out a frustrated sigh, getting overwhelmed by her ocean of feelings.

“What happened?” Daphne asked, concerned.

“The Malfoys…” Y/N began, which made Daphne’s eyes go narrow, a feeling that her best friend was having conflict within herself because of the mentioned family. “Well...they visited the manor one day.” She said, her voice quiet, her voice shaking.

“And?” Urged Daphne, clutching the girl’s hand and squeezing it.

Y/N Icestone looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

____________________

“What’s with the hair, Weasleys? Too poor to get a haircut?” Fred and George heard from behind, immediately recognizing the sour and annoying voice that belonged to a certain blonde Slytherin boy.

The twins turned their attention to Draco and his goons, both crossing their arms and feigning disgust. “Do you smell that, Fred?” George mocked, covering his nose.

“Oh that’s bad, mate.” Fred mirrored his actions before turning towards the Slytherin. “Do us a favor, Malfoy and don’t open your mouth again. It stinks!”

George grinned in his mind. Proud to have applied what he learned from his girlfriend.

The scowling look on Draco’s face deepened, as well as Crabbe and Goyle who had their arms crossed.

“How dare you! Is that the best threat you got? Should I be scared now?”

Fred and George both shrugged.

“You better be.” George stated, followed by Fred. “Because there is no way we’re going to hesitate in making your life more miserable than it already is.”

“Actually, Weasel bee, it’s YOU who have to be scared.” Draco suggested, an evil smirk on his face and a finger pointing at George’s face. “You don’t actually think that you and your identically git-like twin are the only ones who know about your secret, huh?”

“What-”

The blonde Slytherin let out an airy laugh, his thumb playing with the ring around his index finger. “Planning to make Y/N Icestone fall in love with you and break her heart in the end? Dangerous game that you started, Weatherby.”

George felt a million strings of guilt and worry creep around his body. His heart felt like it was dropped on a 40 feet cliff. He stood frozen as if a bucket of ice-cold water was splashed towards him. His mouth felt dry, unable to speak as if a snake had wrapped around his neck. Maybe there was a snake. Figuratively.

Fortunately for the slightly taller ginger, the older twin was quick to defend his brother by threatening the young Slytherin. “If you ever open that filthy mouth of yours, you’ll- Where do you think you’re going?! We’re not done here!”

Draco’s retreating figure looks over his shoulders, shrugging before giving the twins a malicious wink.

____________________

“Is everything alright, Icestone?” A young female bushy-haired Gryffindor asked as she sat next to the 6th year Slytherin, who was looking so exhausted and unlively.

The next morning, Y/N Icestone found herself seated at the Great hall. The house tables were put aside, leaving a big space in the center in which the Goblet of Fire was located. To those who wanted to try their luck and enter the tournament, they were to place their name and which school they were from in a piece of parchment then drop it at the goblet. The goblet chooses the three champions who will participate.

The Slytherin gave the girl a blank loo, shrugging as she waited for her fairy to fetch her food. “Yeah...all will be fine eventually. Why’d you ask, Granger?”

Over the course of the last few months of last school year, whenever Ginny would ask Y/N for her support in studies, social life, or whatever it is, Hermione would tag along, making the three develop a small friendship. Y/N was one of Hermione’s girl friends as she either spends her time at the library or hanging with Harry and Ron.

“Nothing. It’s just that...you looked so deep in thought.” pointed Hermione as she opened the thick book she was holding after slightly getting uncomfortable under Y/N stare.

“Just...tired.” The Slytherin reasoned, shrugging.

A few moments after Mira came back with Daphne, students situated in the hall bursted into loud cheers as the notorious Weasley twins entered with a vial in hand.

“Cooked it up just this morning.” The Slytherin heard Fred announce, making her to mentally slap her forehead and huff, visibly crossing her arms in disapproval. I knew it.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Daphne asked, stuffing a muffin in her mouth. “Dumb stuff.” Y/N answered.

“It’s not going to work~” Hermione sang as she clutched her book shut, an unamused look plastered all around her face as she raised a brow towards the twins.

The twins moved towards the girl’s side with a teasing smile plastered around their faces, “Oh yeah? And why is that Granger?” George asked.

“You see this? This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself. I don’t think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance.” Hermione confidently said, crossing her arms.

“Dear, dear, Granger. You see this?” stated Fred as he lifted his hand to show the small vial of liquid.

“Obviously.”

“This is an Aging potion.” George informed.

“Do you really think that potion of yours is able to fool a genius such as Dumbledore himself?”

“Yes.” The twins synchronously answered, blinking at the same time.

The girl let out an annoyed groan. “If you’re so confident, let's see then.”

Fred put an arm around Hermione’s shoulder, squeezing her. “Have some faith in us, Granger. After all, one of us will be winning the cup by then.”

The twins made their way towards a bench, both shaking their vials before popping it open.

“Ready, Fred?” “Ready, George.”

“Bottoms up.”

The tall gingers jumped in Dumbledore’s age line, pumping their firsts up high when they saw no visible consequences. The crowd cheered with them, chanting “Fred and George! Fred and George!”

Together, they dropped their piece of parchment in the Goblet of Fire, a contented and proud grin on their faces before the goblet roared and sent them flying across the hall. The crowd gasped then immediately bursted into laughter after seeing how the twins were ginger no more and had white beards spurted on their faces.

Daphne tried to contain her laughter, nudging Y/N at the side. “THAT is your boyfriend? You really didn’t lie when you said they were doing dumb stuff.” She uttered, shaking her head. Y/N only gave her a knowing smirk, shrugging before grabbing her cup of morning tea.

The hall suddenly muted itself as Viktor Krum from Durmstrang Institute entered, dropping his name at the goblet. He caught the eye of Hermione, who suddenly turned red, then landed his eyes towards Y/N Icestone and Daphne Greengrass, who both gave him a small wave.

“You know who Viktor Krum is?” recovered from her flustered self, Hermione came back to her curious ways. Y/N gave her a nod. “Yeah...everyone knows who he is. He’s the seeker of the Bulgarian Quidditch team, isn’t he?” She answered.

“Yeah...but like...do you know him personally?”

“Oh she knows him, alright.” Daphne remarked, smirking.

The Gryffindor continued to give Y/N a confused look, waiting for her to expound further. Y/N raised a brow, sighing in defeat before elbowing Daphne’s chuckling self.

“It’s not what you think it is, Hermione. You see, my family has a lot of connections. Viktor is an acquaintance.” Y/N clarified. “Why are you asking anyways? Are you perhaps interested in him?”

“No!” Hermione defended, her cheeks back to a shade of pink. She moved closer to Y/N’s ears, whispering quietly. “I was hoping you could pull some strings and ask for his autograph? Ron is a big fan.”

The Slytherin let out a small laugh. “Now I know who you’re actually interested in.” She teased.

Suddenly, Y/N felt a small tap at her shoulder. She gave a glance, only to see George and Fred, who looked way, way, older. She gave a raised brow, crossing her arms against her chest. Daphne was trying not to laugh, again.

George had a sheepish look as he faced Y/N, who was trying to suppress the upward curving of her lips. “Hi” He quietly greeted, slightly feeling embarrassed.

Y/N shook her head, standing up to head towards the entrance of the Great hall. “Come on, you two. Let’s get you back into your normal forms.”

____________________

“This won’t turn us into cats, right Icestone?” Fred questioned, examining the goblet in his hands.

“I don’t need potions to turn you dimwits into cats.” Y/N declared, handing George his own goblet full of antidote that reverses the anti-aging potion the twins took.

“Thanks, love. I don’t know what I would do without you.” The younger twin commented, pressing his lips on the girl’s forehead as he grabbed the goblet. Y/N only gave a small hum, a thousand thoughts coming back to flood her mind.

As the twins’ face turned into unpleasant looks due to the foul taste of the antidote, Y/N stood by the door, arms crossed as both complained at the taste. “You wouldn’t have that foul liquid sliding down your throats if you didn’t drink that stupid aging potion.” she remarked, getting a “it’s not stupid! It was marvelous!” from Fred.

After the two turned back to their normal looks, Fred immediately pulled the Slytherin into a short hug, muttering “thanks” before making a beeline towards the exit of the Room of Requirement, leaving the couple alone.

George put his hands in his jeans pocket, leaning at a table. “What’d you say we hang out by the lake later? You know...catch up a little. I miss you. Let’s skip supper? Unless you’re hungry, love. We could sneak into the kitchens and ask for the house elves to -“

Y/N put an index finger above George’s lips, shushing him. “I’m sorry, George.” She apologized, giving him a sympathetic look. “I love the thought of spending time with you, but I’m afraid I have to decline the offer.”

The ginger’s face fell, placing his hands at the sides of Y/N’s face. “But -“

“I have plans with Daphne.” She reasoned, completely lying in front of George, who was pouting. She leaned in one of George’s hands before leaning in to give him a quick peck, much to George’s dismay.

“Fine.” George muttered before groaning. “See you in potions tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

____________________

“First week of school and that Snape already gave homework.” George complained, resting his forehead on the desk library he and Y/N occupied.

“That’s professor Snape to you, George.” Y/N scolded, turning her potions book.

George gave a loud grunt. “Whatever. You only favor him because you’re a Slytherin yourself and that he favors your house too much.” He mumbled, turning his head to the side to examine the girl.

Y/N raised a brow towards him, her chin resting on her palm. “Well, that’s because he’s head of the house. And you know how I love potions. If you actually read your textbook and listen to his classes, you’d actually learn something.” She said, earning a snort from George.

“Like what? Bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses?” He asked, mocking the tone of the potions master’s voice.

Y/N nodded. “Yes, to bottle fame, brew glory,”

“and even put a stopper to death!” They simultaneously said, bursting into fits of laughter after making fun of Snape’s yearly speech to the new students of Hogwarts. It was when Madam Pince let out a loud cough that made them shush themselves.

“So you do listen…” The Slytherin commented, amusement in her voice.

George displayed a wide grin on his face. “In the first half of my first classes with him in first year, yeah. The rest...well...I just slide. I Slyther in.”

“HAHA very funny.” Y/N monotonously said.

Their atmosphere was enveloped in silence as the couple stared at each other’s eyes. Y/N examined the ginger, counting the freckles on his face that looked like stars in the night sky, admiring his honey skin illuminated by the lamp placed on their desk, and getting lost at his bright eyes.

She was grateful for having someone like George. Someone that looked past her name and treated her like a normal girl.

Unpleasant thoughts came back rushing in her mind. Worries, doubts, and distress majorly creeping into her feelings.

She was worried. Worried of her future, with George, with other Slytherin families, and simply just being Y/N Icestone

She had her doubts. She was doubting herself, doubting if she was the main cause and reason why the twins decided to play a heart-breaking prank against her, doubting if she was truly loved by George, and doubting if she was worthy of receiving love from anyone.

She was distressed. Distressed from her worries and doubts, all caused by George Weasley, her boyfriend, the boy she gave her love to.

Shaking the thoughts away, she gently reached for the ginger’s hair, caressing it softly which made George flustered. “Your hair...has gotten very long.” She pointed out.

“Oh...yeah.” George mumbled, nodding. He suddenly felt conscious under the girl’s observant stare. “It did get very long during the summers so I had it trimmed.”

“But your hair still looks like what you had last year, which was long too.”

“I like it being long. It looks cool, like my brother, Bill. You have to meet him. He’s actually a Gringotts charm breaker.” said George. “Why? Does it not suit me?”

The Slytherin gave him a small smile. “I never said anything about not liking it nor you not suiting it. I was just wondering why...doesn’t it get hot?” She questioned.

“I like it being long because I love it when you brush your fingers against my hair. Like what you’re doing right now.”

Y/N’s hand retreated much to George’s dismay. She sat up, crossing her arms against her chest. “Well, you’ve been struggling in focusing on your essay without your hair covering your eyes.”

George sat up as well, shrugging as he did so. “Oh but that’s alright. Because having long hair covers my face. I get to look at my seatmate’s paper without the teacher notici- ow! What was that for?” He complained, rubbing his hand in his stinging arm after getting hit by the girl beside him.

“I’m your seatmate in potions.” Y/N replied, unamused by the ginger’s antics.

The Gryffindor only blinked, completely not getting what Y/N was trying to point out. “Okay, and?”

“I will NOT let you copy my work!” She vocalized causing George to slump his shoulders and let out a grunt. “Why not? I thought you liked me?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing her black hair tie from her robes pocket. “I do. And because I do…” The girl reached George’s ginger locks, gathering them together in one hand to tie it into a ponytail. George felt the pace of his heartbeat quickened. She combed his hair with her fingers, putting them in place, before wrapping the tie once, twice, and thrice, to keep it together.

“...I’m going to help you study for it, with the first step of keeping your hair away from yours eyes.” She continued, a proud look on her face after seeing her boyfriend’s hair in place. He looked more neat and more handsome, his jawline being showcased.

The boy was slightly embarrassed, not used to having his hair tied up. “But I hate potions…” George murmured.

“Oh think about it, George. Knowledge in potions will help you make more Weasley products!” The Slytherin urged, finally turning her attention back to the laid out work in front of her.

“You’re right! You’re so smart, love. That’s one of the reasons why I love you.” George claimed, finally facing his own series of potions work as well.

I love you. Y/N didn’t know if she was going to believe what just came out of her boyfriend’s mouth. Nevertheless, her heart skipped a beat.

____________________

“Please tell me you have a plan. You can’t just let him play you like you’re some kind of toy!” Daphne advised as she softly caressed Lixie’s sleeping figure.

“That’s the thing, Daphne. I don’t even know if he’s still playing. I mean, he told me he loved me for a couple of times now. I don’t know if I should believe him but he really does seem so sincere with it.” Y/N pointed out, placing her hands on her waist as she stopped from her pacing.

“Maybe you should confront him about it.” Daphne suggested.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because I know that he’ll lie in front of my face. He does it like a pro, believe me. You know how I hate being lied to.” Y/N muttered, sighing in defeat. “I hate this. I’m giving him until tomorrow to tell me. I’m going to give him hints to make him have an idea how I know. If he doesn’t confess to me by then, I’m going to have to resort to my plan.”

____________________

After Y/N’s conversation with the raven-haired girl, she sneaked her way out the dungeons to meet George at the Astronomy tower. “Y/N You’re here.” He greeted with open arms, Y/N complying to wrap herself in his warm embrace.

“Yeah...can’t sleep.” She mumbled.

The couple pulled away, making their way towards their usual spot to sit down. “Why is that?” George questioned, concern laced in his voice.

“Something has been bothering me lately.” Y/N informed. “A lot happened during the summers. Family gatherings, my father’s important events, and my mom’s own set of tea parties. Which meant me meeting blokes who tried to earn my favor.” She ranted, half lying, half telling the truth.

“People with their bad intentions... Make me sick.” Y/N added before slipping her glass of chocolate milk. She met George’s staring eyes, giving him a small smile. “I’m glad that you’re not one of them.” She remarked.

The familiar pang of guilt flooded in the boy’s mind, his chest hurting as if a million of needles were pricking it. George remained quiet as a series of thoughts flooded his mind.

First, did Y/N Icestone finally find out about how him and Fred were initially planning to break her heart?

Second, if she did know, who told her? Was it Mira? Was it Lixie? Or was it Draco Malfoy?

Third, if she knew, why isn’t she confronting me about it? Didn’t she usually get straight to the point with other people?

Fourth, is she waiting for me to say something to her? Does she want me to be the one who confesses it?

Fifth, but if I do confess it, what would her reaction be? Would she break up with me? Or would she let it go and forgive me?

Sixth, if I confess to her, she would never forgive me. That is certain. I know how her head works.

Seventh, if she wouldn’t forgive me, I could make it up to her...but how?

Eighth, what if she breaks up with me? What will happen to me? I know for sure that she’ll pull strings from her Icestone name to seek revenge. I don’t want my family to be involved.

Ninth, this is stupid. Y/N would never use her Icestone power to hurt me. She’s kinder than you think.

Tenth, now this really is getting stupid. George Weasley, you’re overthinking. She probably doesn’t know and will never know so that’s that. Besides, she fancies you. Nothing could go wrong. Right?

Y/N took a notice of George’s behavior, feigning a look of concern. “Are you...okay?” She questioned, placing a hand in the boy’s cheeks.

“I’m fine.” He said, leaning in Y/N’s touch. “Just thinking of ways on how I could kick whoever bothered you.” He added.

Y/N gave him a smirk. “Even if that someone is you?” She phrased out, catching George off guard.

“Did I do something?” George questioned, getting a shrug from the Slytherin as a response.

“Huh?” Y/N feigned confusion. “Is there something I should know?”

Relief spread through George’s mind. “Besides that I fancy you like crazy? None.”

____________________

“I have a feeling that somebody gave her hints about our previous plan.” Fred suggested, thinking deeply of different possibilities.

“Do you think it was Malfoy?” George asked, concerned and a nervous look plastered around his face.

Fred briefly nodded. “Possibly. But I think that you should be the one to tell her. You have to tell her today otherwise you can say bye-bye to your precious relationship”

____________________

“So?” Daphne asked, curious of last night's events.

Y/N let out a groan. “Nothing. But I have a feeling that he caught the message. He only has today. He should really let it out or else I won’t hesitate.” She threatened, anger boiling inside of her.

____________________

“You got everything you need? You didn’t forget anything?” George asked as he handed Y/N her bag after walking her to Professor Trelawney’s Divination class, which was located at a very high tower.

The Slytherin gave him a smile, pulling him for a hug. “None. Thanks for walking me here.” She muttered against the ginger’s chest, making the boy grin.

While the Gryffindor had the girl wrapped in his hug, he started to overthink about everything again. The beat of his heart quickened due to nervousness and uncertainty.

As they pulled away, Y/N gave the boy a quick peck on the lips before making her way towards the entrance to Trelawney’s classroom, her pace slow in hopes of George calling her back. To which he did.

“Yes?” Y/N asked, glancing over her shoulder.

George looked like he wanted to say something.

“Something troubling you? Do you want to talk about it?” The girl suggested, moving back to stand in front and under the tall ginger’s worried gaze. When the boy remained silent, Y/N narrowed her eyes towards him as she crossed her arms against her chest. “George? Are you feeling alright? I’m...starting to get worried.”

George gave Y/N a grin. “See you later? The usual?” He asked, insisting rather to himself to just tell her later at the Astronomy tower.

Y/N didn’t bulge, the look on her face not faltering. “Are you sure you don’t have anything else to say to me, George?” She crossed-examine. George felt cold sweat dripping at the back of his neck, his heart beat faster than before.

“You’re pretty?” George quietly muttered, the uncertain look coming back on his face.

The Slytherin decided to give up, planning to try again later at the Astronomy tower. She feigned a smile, nodding in agreement to what her boyfriend just mumbled out. “Damn right I am.” She responded, a knowing smirk on her face, making George groan.

“I said petty.” He vocalized before giving the girl a kiss on the forehead and walking away.

“Are you happy?” Y/N suddenly asked, making the boy stop in his tracks. “Does this make you happy, George?”

He looked at her, giving her a wink. “Anywhere with you makes me happy, Y/N.”

When the ginger was finally out of sight, the Slytherin groaned in frustration, entering the classroom to hastily sit beside Daphne, who was giving her a sympathetic look.

____________________

15 minutes past four hours after midnight with Y/N Icestone laying on her bed beside a snoring Siamese cat, wide awake as she stares at the ceiling with her head full of thoughts. Even after countless times of being put in an identical situation, somehow, she never got used to it. As the night shuts down and the sky becomes dark, that time is her greatest fight. Her head, her thoughts, herself, her own enemy.

Usually, she would heave out a frustrated sigh and sneak to see the stars in the Astronomy tower and after her midnight escapades, she’d feel tired from the swellness of her eyes and fall into a slumber. However, she already did this method earlier but coming back from the tower tonight did not let her rest. In fact, she was even more bothered. He knows I know but didn’t even say something about it. Not even a word. Not even an apology.

Y/N turned to her side, caressing Lixie’s small head before giving it a small kiss and sitting up. Turning her eyes to her bedside table, she grabbed a vacant parchment and her wand to illuminate the dark room. With her quill, she started to doodle the interior of the astronomy tower with herself and a certain Gryffindor ginger seated on the floor beside each other. Above them were the beautiful night sky enveloped with billions of shining stars as well as the moon. She smiled to herself.

“I’m gonna make you miss me.” She muttered, drawing horns on the side of the boy’s head.

“I’m gonna make you so mad.” She continued, this time drawing a devil’s tail on the boy.

“I’m gonna make sure that I’m the best you ever had.”

For a few moments, the girl stared at the parchment, admiring her work of art as she tried to silence herself. She breathed in, and breathed out before crumpling the drawing and furiously wiping her fallen tears. She commanded her wand to turn the light off before draping her thick blanket above her head.

Y/N Icestone always had a heart. A heart that treasures four-legged furry animals that purrs when they’re delighted and hisses when they have been wronged. A heart that aches to see innocent first years getting bullied by the students from her house. A heart that beats rapidly for the younger individual of the prominent Gryffindor ginger twins, who goes by the name George Weasley.

Y/N Icestone. Always being labeled for having a stone cold ice as a heart when what she had was warm, pure, and strong. Y/N Icestone, who most people thought had no heart, just got her heart taken, thrown away, and smashed broken.

End of Chapter 6

____________________

Tag list: @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina @lilypad-55449 @memekingofwwiii

Author’s note: Enjoy ;)

46 notes · View notes

akoumi · 3 years

Text

lil mwad piece for valentine’s day!!!

id under the cut:

We have to leave before the snow gets worse. All around me, people work, loading up tents and weapons up onto their carts and horses. It isn’t enough. It’s early in the morning and everyone’s moving as fast as possible to get going already, but I can already tell that the snow is going to be a problem.

I pull my coat tighter around my shoulders, stamping my feet to get rid of the cold seeping into my boots. I’ve spent twenty winters here and yet, this has been one of the coldest winters I’ve ever experienced, and it hasn’t let up yet. It’s bad news for us.

Speaking of the cold — I look over, scanning for Pavel. I catch sight of him a moment later, hurrying right over towards me. He’s so small compared to the musclebound fighters around him, wrapped in several layers of my shirts and coats and socks. Only his dark eyes are visible, his mouth and nose covered by scarves and the top of his head obscured by the large, fluffy hood of his coat.

“Did you wear the extra shirts I gave you last night?” I sniff as he stops in front of me, skidding a little on the ice. He bumps lightly into me, and I steady him.

Pavel beams, and nods. He pulls the scarves around his mouth down to his chin to speak. “It’s cold,” he admits. “But the extra layers helped a lot. Thank you, Sascha.” Despite being protected by the scarves, his nose is still red from the cold, and I frown. I’ll have to find some better scarves for him.

“You put on the leggings? And the socks?” I prompt. “It’s a long journey in the snow, and I don’t want you to freeze.” He certainly looks like he put on everything I left for him this morning — he practically had to waddle over to me.

Pavel nods again, and pulls back the sleeve of his coat to reveal the several layers of shirts he has on underneath. “I did.” He watches me for another moment, blushing slightly in the cold.

I raise my eyebrows at him. He’s hopping from foot to foot, cheeks red. “What? If you’re still cold, the only thing I can spare you is another pair of socks.”

Pavel shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not —” He shakes his head. “Um, I just. I just wanted to, um.” He clears his throat, and I sigh. “See, back home, there’s just — at the beginning of spring, well, there’s this thing called — well, it doesn’t matter what it’s called, but —”

“Get to the point.”

“Yes, um, sorry, sorry, I’m sorry for wasting your time —” He blushes, again, harder, and this time I don’t think it’s because of the cold.

“What is it, Pavel?” I cast a glance back, at where they’re almost finished. I have to be up there soon. Of course Pavel picked now to start prattling on.

“Well, see…it’s just a holiday where — where we give gifts to loved ones. At the beginning of every spring.” He clears his throat lightly, and looks down. “If I was back home I would have bought you something beautiful. Maybe a golden necklace or —“ Pavel blushes again, and I remember his surprise two weeks ago when I mentioned that it was the beginning of spring.

Spring? he had said, staring at me blankly. I hadn’t seen him much at all since then, and had just assumed — well, honestly, I hadn’t given much thought to where he had been.

“Or a nice sword,” Pavel continues quietly. He has something in his hands now, but I can’t quite see what it is. “But — but — we were traveling, and I didn’t have any money, so…”

Pavel uncovers his hands. In his palm sits a roughly carved wooden wolf, about the length of my thumb. There isn’t much detail to it other than a few scratches where its eyes should be, and for the fur of its tail, but it’s still recognizable.

“I’m sorry it’s ugly,” he whispers as I take it, examining it. Its mouth is open in a snarl, teeth pointed and jagged. “I’m - I’m not very good at carving, and I cut myself a few times while making it, but — but — it’s all I could offer you here — I know it’s stupid, and — you don’t even celebrate this but — I thought you might like it maybe,” he finishes off nervously.

“A wolf,” I say quietly, running my thumb over its tail.

Pavel nods again, rubbing his hands together. I catch sight of the nicks on his fingers. “You’re — that’s the animal I associate you with,” he says softly. “Or maybe a bear, but, I tried carving a bear and it ended up looking more like a misshapen potato —”

The laugh that escapes me startles me. “A misshapen potato?” I ask, unable to stop a small smile. The image of Pavel spending hours working on a carving only for his masterpiece to look like a root vegetable is honestly funny — and pretty in character for him.

Pavel blinks in surprise - and then smiles, some of the tension leaving him. “Yeah,” he admits. “I’m not a good carver. ” He hesitates for a moment. “Do you like it?”

I continue to study it. “Is this what you were doing all last week?”

He blushes, and nods. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I finally look up from the little wooden wolf. His eyes are large, anxious, the need for approval so clear. The need for my approval.

“Well, this one looks slightly better than a misshapen potato, so you should be glad.” I lower it a little, and Pavel beams. “Now go on — you’d better get on that wagon before Ivan leaves, unless you want to walk the rest of the way.”

Pavel gives me another wide smile, with a whispered thank you, and I watch him hurry off through the snow. Once he disappears into the throng of people, I let myself look back at the little wolf. It’s ugly. Rough, hewn from the wood without any finesse, its tail looking a little mangy. But there’s love in it, so much love, in every uneven cut and flaw, in the healing nicks I’d seen on Pavel’s hands.

I put it gently in the inner pocket of my coat, making sure it’s tucked safe within the folds without any danger of falling out, and then I turn to go join Katya and Anja.

#writeblr #wip: mwad #mwad excerpt #original writing #ty to blanche for the idea of a valentine's day excerpt #im feeling strangely soft for sascha and pavel now #too bad mwad ends how it ends >:)

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

How Perfect You Are- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: After a rough day, Tom’s there to cheer you up.

Word Count: 1600

Warnings!!: cyberbullying, mentions of anxiety, self-image issues/slut shaming

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a couple months now, and it was written way before the rumors (because nothing has been confirmed by him yet) of Tom having a girlfriend. Respect Tom’s privacy and do not send hate to him or any of the people he is connected to, romantically or otherwise.

~~~

It was a rough day. Like a really rough day.

It seemed like every single uni assignment was due this week, and work was just the worst. You had a raging migraine, and your boss even offered to call someone in early to cover you, but you refused. You needed the hours, you needed the money, you didn’t need the constant searing pain on the top of your skull like someone was trying to pierce through it with a knife.

But you pushed through until you got home. The house was silent, just like the past few nights whenever you arrived home. Tom knew you had a lot of school work to do, so he tried to stay clear of your way. Earlier this week, he attempted to keep to himself in the living room while you worked in your shared room, but he found himself wandering into the bedroom periodically. He had been away filming for months, only to return during one of the most stressful parts of your school year- midterms. He just wanted to hold you, be with you in any way he could, but that was just distracting you and he knew it.

So he made himself busy at Harrison’s place for a few hours every night. It gave you enough time to buckle down and focus on your work, with him coming home shortly before the two of you went to bed. It was hard, but midterms were a bitch and Tom wasn’t about to help you with your fifteen page paper among other essays.

When the clock struck 11 pm, you knew Tom would be home soon and that you should probably stop working in a sad attempt to help your migraine. You changed into your pajamas (which consisted of one of Tom’s t-shirts and your own pajama shorts) and continued to go through your nightly routine. Laying down in the king-size bed, you snuggled down into the warm sheets. As tired as you were, you couldn’t fall asleep until Tom came home, knowing he’d be on his way shortly- after all, Harrison’s home wasn’t far from yours.

Waiting in your comfortably warm bed, you began to scroll through Instagram, wondering what you could have missed in the endless hours of you being offline for studying and work. You smiled to yourself when you realized Harrison had a saved Instagram live posted. Your smile grew even wider once you clicked on it and Tom appeared on the screen beside him. The time stamp of the video showed it was from an hour ago.

They were goofing about, being their normal selves and answering some questions from the comments. One question in particular caught your attention as a fan asked if you and Tom were still together- wow, so much for privacy.

“Yes, we are. She’s studying right now, working very, very hard. I love her loads, so yeah, of course we’re still together.” Tom laughed, almost disbelieving a fan would actually ask such an oddly invasive question. As Harrison continued on and answered another question, you began to read the comments that were drifting over the screen.

‘Can’t believe Tom’s still dating her’,‘They’ve got to be fake- there’s no way Tom would date someone like her’, ‘Tom’s really got bad taste’, the comments kept coming through for the next few minutes. Your eyes shifted to rest on Tom’s face, who seemed rather unbothered, like he hadn’t been reading those hurtful words that not only mocked him, but you and your relationship as a whole.

The live didn’t last long after that. You were grateful that there were no more questions about you specifically. Tom would mention you here and there, but he always did that. You were his favorite thing to talk about (except maybe, you were tied with Tessa) and so he struggled to not constantly gush over you.

You both knew when you started dating, almost 2 years ago now, that you’d be opening your life up to criticism. You were all for bettering yourself and hearing the opinions of other people, but that was with constructive criticism to help you become a better person, not crazy fans that hated you for no legitimate reason. It was definitely a challenge, but you kept your social media all private, only allowing people you know to follow you, like any normal 23 year old would do. Tom tried to keep his posts of you to a minimum, just sometimes he couldn’t help it. He loved you, and he wanted to show you off to the world; however, he did acknowledge the uncomfortable position it put you in.

It wasn’t like you hated his fans, no you loved them. There were some, though, that you didn’t appreciate, and you felt justified feeling that way. They were just upset over seeing their idol be “taken” by you- at least, that’s what you told yourself. You constantly had to remind yourself that no, you were not fat like they said; no, you were not stupid like they said; no, you were not ugly like they said; no, you were not undeserving of Tom like they said. You were you, and you were a great person, you liked yourself.

That was the mindset most nights, but tonight was not one of those nights.

Everything was stressing you out, your anxiety certainly was not in check. Those comments did nothing to improve your mental state, and yet you still found yourself on Tom’s account, looking at the pictures he had up of you, looking at the comments underneath them specifically.

‘Attention whore’, ‘cover up slut’, ‘her dress looks like vomit’, ‘why is Tom dating her’, ‘she doesn’t deserve him’, ‘their relationship cannot be real’. Each comment stung, yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from reading through them over and over again. Your vision began to get blurry from the tears that had welled up in your eyes. You rubbed your eyes, trying to hold yourself together, and threw the phone away from you- you didn’t care where it landed, it just couldn’t be near you.

“Ow!” Tom shouted, and you immediately removed the hand from covering your eyes.

“Tom?” Your voice came out as more of a pathetic squeak. He turned on the light and you could see he was rubbing his knee, where you assumed your phone had hit him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just got in.” He said, placing your phone on the bed and beginning to change into his own pajamas.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. My bad.” You mumbled. You picked your phone up and took one last look at the Instagram comments.

“Is everything alright?” Tom asked. He turned off the lights and got into bed beside you under the covers. You wordlessly shrugged a little and set your phone on the nightstand beside you. Tom wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer into his warm, bare chest. His brown eyes softened, sensing something was wrong. “What’s going on, love?”

“I’m just stressed.” You replied quietly.

“I know when you’re ‘just stressed’. Something else is bothering you. What is it? You can tell me.” He frowned, his hand coming up to move a few loose hairs out of your face before he rested it on your neck with his thumb gently rubbing your jaw.

“I feel like the whole world hates me. School’s awful, work’s awful. And you get to go hang out with Harrison while I’m drowning in just work, and I feel like a bad girlfriend because you want to spend time with me, but I don’t have time for anything. And then, I go online and I just see all this hate. I know that they’re your fans and you love them, but it’s just so draining. I can’t handle it.” The tears were freely flowing from your eyes at this point. Tom shifted so that you could cry into his chest, and he held you tightly, reassuringly caressing your back as he did so.

“Hey, I love you, more than anything in the world. Don’t feel bad that you can’t spend time with me right now. Midterms and work- that’s your life right now. You’ve always waited for me, so I’m going to wait for you. As long as I get to come home and see your beautiful face every night, I’m perfectly content.” He paused and let out a small sigh, “And as for my fans, I’m sorry. I wish they could just understand. I love you, you are my girlfriend, our relationship is real, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Nothing that they say about you is true. Now, who is the most beautiful, kind-hearted, mesmerizing, brilliant woman I know?”

“Your mum.” You said, muffled by his chest.

“Who? I can’t hear you.” Tom teased. You pulled back to look at him. Despite the dark room only being illuminated by the moonlight creeping through the window and the alarm clock perched behind you, you could still see his kind smile as he looked at you. “Don’t say my mum. Come on, who is it?”

“I am.” You replied, unable to stop the small smile that crept its way onto your face as Tom nodded encouragingly.

“You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted- what else did I say?” He paused with a laugh, realized he’d forgotten his own words.

“Mesmerizing, brilliant?”

“Mesmerizing, brilliant woman I know. There’s just too many adjectives to describe just how perfect you are, darling.”

“I love you.” You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you, too.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @tomkindholland

Tom Tag List: @quaksonhehe

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic

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sandsofoneiros · 3 years

Text

*I don't own any images above. Found them on pinterest.

Disclaimer: It’s finally here! It’s been kicking my ass for weeks but I finally have it ready for you guys! I know nothing about ships and sailing so please don’t hate me! There's so many references in this chapter and I wonder if you can pick up on them! Let me know if you do and your thoughts! I also finally got to use my moodboard! I also tried something new with ending and beginning that I got from one of my favorite authors. Let me know what you think!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x OFC.

Warning: We have a lot. It gets angsty towards the end. Mentions of an anxiety attack, grief mention, and we do have a character death. Some blood is mention. Emotions are every where for these kiddos. I tried to tag everything just be cautious reading the third months. Cursing

Read chapter two here!

Tagging: @thembohux and @booksmusicteaandanimals

Chapter Three: The Privateer.

Months before. . . . .

To some, he was still a boy. Seventeen did not make one a man, and he knew that as he trekked up the snowy hill. The kingdom is known for its harsh terrain and even more ruthless queen. However, the boy wasn’t intimidated. His hood obscured his identity to those around him, and that’s how it would remain until he was facing her. The boy had an offer for the ice queen. An offer that would blossom in time and would contribute to them both, or that’s what he assumed would happen. The bitter wind cut at his cheeks and nose as he went on. He had been on this journey for what seemed like years, but it had hardly been a week; he was losing count of the days. The only thing that mattered was his offer being accepted. This new powerful alliance could be formed. He could hardly wait, and that gave him the last push to get over that hill. For a moment, he paused at the top, looking over the kingdom that was practically camouflaged by the snow. The rumor was that this kingdom had no proper ruler and was run by the most feared individual that asserted dominance. One that the others thoroughly respected. The neighboring kingdoms had always perceived it as unusual. However, the queen of this land had held it in her clutches longer than anyone. The boy was hoping to extend and expand her reign tonight.

In another kingdom, a prince and his father quarreled more and more each day. The tension becomes too much for each of them. The father had sought to end his son’s dreams of adventure and each day he felt his son slipping further and further away. He would venture into the town and come home later with the patrol guards surrounding him. The boy hung around the harbors and taverns, lingering to see if he could slip away with someone or some crew. However, they were promptly told who the boy was and what would take place if they were to leave with him. This kingdom did everything to look after their beloved prince, despite his attempts to break free. The prince was ready to leave this forsaken place and forget his title. He didn’t wish to spend another summer visiting a princess that he didn’t wish to wed. He didn’t want to be told what to do. He wished to be like his mother and explore. The boy only wanted freedom. Freedom to do what would make him happy and not those around him. His anger had led him to another bar, but this time a crew had taken an interest in him. A mysterious girl not older than him had enticed him to accompany her on the sea, and he had never felt more freedom than when he took her hand.

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First month.

Sixteen years old.

She couldn’t accept what the King declared. It was too shocking to even thoroughly comprehend and prayed that this was some trick that Poe was playing. Kes’s haggard appearance was the only thing that told her it wasn’t. Poe had finally done it. He had sought freedom and had gotten taken instead. Kes continued, telling them he wasn’t certain Poe had gotten captured or left freely. The owner of the bar gave one explanation of the story while the people gave another. Kes had been late for getting there to stop the prince. She could see that weighed on his mind heavily, and she couldn’t fault him. Ro had become lost in her mind until Ignis touched her shoulder.

“Princess?” Kes’s voice was low as he observed her. Standing by to see what would take place. Ro hadn’t even heard the question and instead peered at her father before Ignis. This was their first time escorting her to Yavin. Queen Eirlys wasn’t in good health and declined the visit. Moreso, her spouse declared to her, he would take her place this year. Her mom was ill back in Cianna and had been for the entire year. The summer had been the worst of the year. Ro would watch as the woman would fake a smile and make herself do her duties. Her father did everything he could to lessen all the Queen’s duties, but she would scold him. Her mom had insisted that Ro come to Yavin and be with the prince. She didn’t need to be staying with the sick queen. Now, she stood before the Kes and heard how Poe wasn’t even here. He didn’t know where his son was or when the boy would return. This summer was becoming one that she wanted to forget.

“These are challenging times, your highness. My mother is unwell and Poe is missing. It would seem that we are all being tried.” Her voice wavered as she struggled to speak. The poor young woman could feel more cracks developing in her walls. How long would they hold up? How long could she be strong? Pushing her lips into a thin line, she took a minute to gather herself once more. “The kingdom of Cianna will support you, King Kes. I’m confident we can find Prince Poe. My mother would want us to put the prince first and that’s what we’re going to do. Da, send word to Cianna, and let’s get as many as we can spare. I know a privateer that can benefit us. We might need to get our hands dirty, gentlemen.”

Her head was high as she communicated to all of them. None of them expected her to develop a strategy and issue orders. They could see she would not let this go, it was personal for her. For a minute, Jaqen saw nothing but his wife radiating through his oldest daughter. A smile found its way to his face, and he felt pride as he stepped somewhat back, letting Ro have the floor. Ignis followed Jaqen’s lead and let the princess have the floor.

“I will meet with the privateer and get us a ship along with more company. I presume we’ll want to leave as soon as possible. King Kes, I propose packing up.”

Kes couldn’t stop the grin that set across his face. It took him back to the first time he met Aurora. How shy she was. Now she stood before him and took charge of finding his son. Oh, she would make an admirable queen one day. He could see that with no problem.

“I believe you’re right, Princess Aurora. We’re wasting valuable time, gentlemen. Let’s plan to leave by the end of the week.”

“I’ll send for Cianna’s finest.” Her father bowed to Kes.

“Ignis, I need you to accompany me to the city. I need to speak with someone in town.”

Ro didn’t waste any time as she left the throne room, leaving them all in admiration. Her head held high as she left. Her legs brought her to the spot of Poe’s favorite tree. A tree that Kes and Shara had planted when she was alive. Her lip wobbled as she battled back tears. Her knees swayed as she pressed her back to the tree and slid down the trunk. Not caring that it could ruin her dress or possibly scrape her. No, she needed to get her emotions out for the few moments that she had alone. Her shoulders shook as the emotions took over. Why would he leave? Last summer it seemed that he was ready. Evidently, it had been nothing more than a honeyed speech. Her mind advised her he wouldn’t have just left. Her heart told her he loved her, but her gut declared both of them were wrong. Her gut instructed her that when she found him she would never want to see him again.

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Zireael watched as the men loaded up her ship for this job. A job that she wasn’t sure that she wanted in the first place but the reward would be worth it. The reward always made it worth it. Griff stood beside her as they waited on the King of Yavin to join them. Both of them had already decided only one noble could be on this ship. The princess and her guard would only cause more trouble. However, the Ciannaian longboats did make them feel a little more relieved. Numbers would help them given who they had to track down. This prince had gotten wrapped up with the Kijimi Fleet. A fleet that no one dared cross along with their kingdom. How someone could do something so reckless was beyond her but all these princes and princesses were always doing something bothersome. She tapped her boot while her arms crossed over her chest. They were losing time and that was something she hated.

“Calm down, we have plenty of days left to sail.” Chuckling, he ruffled her raven locks and put her hat back down. It wasn’t uncommon for her to lose patience.

“Days? We have three months to find the prince or it was all for nothing.” She spoke as she swatted his hand away from her hair.

“I don’t see why she doesn’t marry the guard. He looked positively love-struck. . .”

“Probably for the same reason why I don’t marry you, Griff. Her heart belongs to another.”

They both shared a look before someone cleared their throat. It was the King of Yavin. He offered them a slight smile and wave before putting his bag down. It was only one bag, and that took Zireael by surprise. She guessed that he would have packed more, but less was always better. The King of Cianna remained beside him as they spoke their goodbyes. He gave her and Griff a knowing look before bowing his head to them.

“Careful on the seas. All of you.”

“Of course, your highness. I’m sure we’ll sing songs and become closer with each passing day.”

Zireael bowed to both the fathers before nodding to the ship. It was time to leave, and she was aching to get out on the sea. The gulls were crying above them, and the sun was high. It was an excellent day. She couldn’t have asked the maker for a more perfect day for them to sail the ocean. Griff had started the climb up the ramp to the deck to speak with everyone about what they would be doing. He was her second in command and no one ever challenged him. They didn’t want to face her wrath.

Kes held his arm out for her to take as they made their climb. “How certain are you that we will find him? There are plenty of uncharted territories out there.” The privateer merely smirked at his question. She wasn’t even certain if they would recover the prince, but he was a dad missing his only son. “I’m positive that we will find him and more, your grace. Don’t you fret.” Once they were on the deck, she brought the king to the commander’s quarters. She wasn’t certain what this job had in store for them, but the least she could do was make sure that Kes was comfortable while he traveled with them. It would be a lengthy three months if the man had to sleep on the bunks down below. There would not be much to do today other than plan out her course.

Her quarters were her sanctuary for the time. Flipping through the pages of her journal, she started studying the statements that she had gathered from the night the prince had fled. She needed a lead. All she knew was that he had got tied up with the Kijimi Fleet, and she wasn’t familiar with their routes. She needed to figure out where they would go next. Rubbing at her temples, she recorded where they could hit and where they had hit. She had to find that pattern. It was there somewhere. They would stop at the next port and ask around there. They would not spend too long searching ports and towns. No, they didn’t have time.

A knock rang through her quarters, and her eyes stared at the door. She didn’t want to let them in. Fixing her hair, she almost didn’t recognize herself as she passed the mirror to open the door. Grinning, she took in the sight of Kes. A charming man. It was no wonder his people loved him and his son.

“You look like you could use some fresh air. There looks to be a party on deck and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re working.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be an excellent captain if I let them have all the fun, would I?”

Kes chuckled with the young woman. She was no older than his son. Yet, she was a privateer that was managing this job and ensured that she would find his son. She had plenty of individuals under her to command and they all respected her. They looked at her for guidance. A leader. However, one looked at her as if it would be the last time. Griff stared at her as if he was seeking to seize her for himself. It made Kes uneasy.

Zireael beamed as she listened to the familiar music and moved behind a few of them. She wasn’t feeling much for dancing. Hoisting herself onto the railing, she searched through the leather pouch that settled at her hip. Plucking out her long pipe, tobacco, and arranging it, she gladly placed it between her lips. Blowing the smoke out her nose made a grin as Griff shook his head at her.

“Does your mother know you do that?” The king asked, while she snickered. Glancing over at him, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

“Who do you think taught me, your grace?”

Their laughter weaved in with the rest of the crew’s. This was the calm before the storm. They wouldn’t always have nights like this where they could rest easy and be cheerful. No, this was a treat, and they all realized that. She let herself sing some songs with them, clapped as they danced, but she hadn’t truly let herself join in completely. It wasn’t until Kes took her hand to join in the dance that she allowed herself. Griff had been the next to spin her around on the deck. The crowd shouted loudly as they watched their captain join in. They all recognized how much this job meant to her and how much she desired the reward. They knew she wouldn’t fail, and they would not let her. She took care of them, and they took care of her. It was as simple as it could get. Zireael was a name just as feared as the Kijimi Fleet. It was recognized but shrouded in mystery. That was the way she intended to keep it. Always keep them guessing, and they might respect her enough to stay out of the way.

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Poe leaned over the rail of the ship, scanning for any sea creatures that might reveal themselves. This was the furthest that he had ever been from Yavin, and he was buzzing with excitement. Sure, the crew was still watchful of him, but that never discouraged his mood. He was constantly ready to prove himself to them. Zorii had vouched for him back in Yavin and he wanted to make sure that he lived up to whatever she had told them. He needed to see more, and it wasn’t long before he hurried up to the crow’s nest. Poe adored being that high up and staring out onto the horizon. The prince would spread his arms out and just enjoy the breeze. It was his favorite spot on the entire ship. Other than beside the fearless young woman who had swept him off his feet. The young woman that wanted adventure just like him. She was a little cold the first few weeks, but she had come around. Now, she was constantly reminding the others how valuable he really was.

“Dameron! What are you looking at up there?” Her voice called as she studied him. Her hand over her eyes to shield it from the sun. He just waved at her to come up with him, which she did with some reluctance. They had been sailing with each for weeks now, and Poe recognized something was flourishing between them. The prince had wanted this with Aurora, but it never unfolded. She had suggested once that she would wait on him, but he knew she might not. He couldn’t blame her. They were children that got forced into something that they didn’t want. He felt she was more than thrilled that he had left. Yet, his mind drifts back to last summer and those spoken feelings.

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Second month.

It was all getting to them. It was hardly the second month of their journey, but they were all suffering the effects. Even Zireael was becoming tired of being on her ship, and she longed to feel solid ground again. Stepping out on the deck and leaning over the rail, she stared at the water below them. It always gave her some sort of relief, even though she was missing the feel of grass between her toes. The breeze swept through her hair as the crew continued working around her. They had been putting extra work in since some storms had blown them off course a few times. She was proud of them and needed to remind them she was. Her thumb rubbed at the silver ring on her thumb as she thought of some reward that she could give them.

“You’re quiet this afternoon, everything alright?” Griff asked. Zireael couldn’t help but note the small braid that had made itself known. Reaching out, she carefully tugged his umber braid.

“I’ve been considering stopping at the next port and letting everyone go enjoy themselves. It seems we’ve all grown tired of the waves below. I could undoubtedly use a hot bath. . .” She grinned before studying her own hair. Fingers working through tangles without even a whimper.

“There’s one not too far from here. A night off the ship might restore our energy for the rest of the journey.”

xxxx

Freshly scrubbed and accompanying her crew, Zireael laughed at their stories that they were sharing with others. The hood of her cloak was up as she rested in the back with her pipe between her lips. Letting the smoke swirl flow from her lips as she listened to her crew enjoy themselves. It was a sight to behold as a man with brown hair sang in the corner. Some of them had requested him to sing a jig instead of the sad song he had opened with. Zireael hummed the words as she lifted her tankard every once in a while. It had been too long since she had gotten to unwind. The king had wanted to enjoy the night sleeping in an actual bed after his own bath. For once they could forget about finding this rebellious prince and the Kijimi Fleet. She could let herself breathe for just a night. Something she hadn’t done since she set foot on that ship. Zireael hadn’t even bothered to ask anyone here if they knew about the prince or the fleet. It was a distant memory and would be until tomorrow morning when they set off again.

xxxxx

Walking into the tavern, Poe wasn’t ready for the boisterous voices that sing off key, but they were lively. The song tells of throwing coins to some hero from what Poe took of it. Zorii had shoved him into a booth in the back and provided the roughness of the shove; she wasn’t overly pleased with him. They hadn’t been getting along very well recently and he couldn’t stop thinking about home. He also couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered how much she had changed since he had seen her. How many braids had she gained? He dreamed of his fingers traveling over patterns of the plaits. He imagined undoing her plaits and his fingers combing through those strands. Would he ever see her again? He couldn’t afford to think like that when Zorii was around. She had taken notice of how he changed when he was in deep thought. It led to questions and more confrontation between them. She never appreciated hearing his answers. Exhaling, he searched the tavern as everyone sang heartily with the drinks in their hands. He hadn’t seen a sight like this in so long. He missed moments like this, but Zorii was simply using this to put him in a good mood. This was the first time that he had even left the ship in two weeks. It had been a punishment when he had stopped her from hurting someone who he felt was honest. She wasn’t pleased with him. She still wasn’t, and her actions confirmed it more and more.

His eyes paused on a figure that rested diagonally across from them. They were sitting with their hood up and a long pipe between their lips. Squinting, he could make out some details, but not enough. It wasn’t until one of their crew, or who he guessed was their crew, pulled the hood down. Her long raven hair lay over her shoulder as she smacked at them before pulling the hood back up. The table rocked as Zorii practically slammed their drinks on the table, the liquid spilling over the rim.

“Everything alright?” He asked, but his brown eyes continued watching over her shoulder to the enigmatic young woman. She rested with one leg draped over the edge of the table and the other stretched out, with her foot resting in the chair. Smoke escaping either the corner of her lips or her nostrils. She didn’t look older than him and Zorii.

“It’s fine, Poe. It’s just loud in here.”

She wasn’t mistaken about that, but he embraced the songs and dance of the other company that was here. He speculated on what they were pleased about. Maybe it was just being off the ship like he was. Poe wished to meet them, but that would only annoy Zorii more. Their relationship was constantly tethering on good and just awful. One minute she was applauding him for something and the next scolding him like a child. It was disheartening. When he first met her, he was drawn to her. She had taken him away from Yavin, had shown adventure that he never could have envisioned, but it wasn’t all roses. It was darker than he ever thought. There was another side of the world that his father had sought to protect him from. The thought of his father made him close his eyes. He missed his papa more than he could say. What was he doing right now? How much resentment did his papa have? Would his papa even wish to see him again? It weighed massively on his mind. He asked each day that he would see his papa soon.

Getting a sip of his drink, he watched as the mystery young woman smoked her pipe. He couldn’t figure out why he was so taken by her. Could it be because her crew was cheerful and dancing around their little area? Poe couldn’t say for sure. A sigh escaped Zorii’s lips, and he lifted a brow at her. She must have wanted his attention. Above her top lip, she had gathered a bit of foam from her drink.

“You have something on your lip.”

He looked away once more as she wiped her mouth. He watched as the other got up from her chair to go to the counter and he was already moving, leaving behind a confused Zorii. Nudging his way through the sea of bodies and smacking into a very built man with silvery hair. The man stood silently before Poe murmured an apology and moved around him. However, the young woman was back in her chair and another had scooted in beside her. He had missed his chance. Poe frowned before discovering a vacant seat at the bar and promptly taking it for himself. Maybe the owner would know something about her. He just needed to get the man to talk. Poe did his best to get a better glimpse at the curious young woman, but someone invariably got in the way. A snicker from the barkeep caused his head to snap up.

“It looks like Zireael has captured your eye.”

“Is that her name? Zireael? Where’s she from?”

“Not much is known about her and her crew. They are highly respected wherever they travel. They don’t create trouble with others and frequently are the ones stopping the trouble.” The man responded while he wiped down the counter. He had a name now. Zireael. It varied from anything he had heard before, but it suited her.

“She doesn’t look like much.” Zorii sneered as she took a seat on the vacant stool beside Poe. He had speculated how long it would take for her to follow him, and she had set a record for five minutes. Zorii would never let him out of her sight for too long, anyway. Even during their job earlier, Zorii wouldn’t let him do anything other than hold the goods. Even that was something that she didn’t want him doing.

“Looks can be deceiving.” He retorted without glancing at Zorii. Zorii had deceived him. She wasn’t what he expected when they first met, and neither was the world beyond Yavin. She had been beautiful to him then, inside and out. However, she had a very unique nature. Zorii could be ruthless with upholding the Kijimi kingdom. This was her way of life, and Poe wasn’t certain if he even fit in with it. He was repeatedly working to persuade her that there had to be another alternative in situations that didn’t call for such vicious measures. He felt he was getting through to her. Later the next day she would go back to the old Zorii. He didn’t wish to give up hope on her. He genuinely thought that maybe he could show her a fresh perspective than what she had known.

“I wouldn’t mess with Zireael and her crew.” A gruff voice uttered, and Poe looked at the owner. The silver-haired man in black leather who looked like he could easily defeat anyone in this bar. The man grunted before he made his way back to a table where two others sat. A dark-haired woman and the young man who had been singing earlier. For such a broad man to claim that made Poe curious to learn more about this Zireael. However, he feared Zorii would let him get any closer.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t dare mess with the Kijimi Fleet!” Zorii made certain that her tone rose above everything. It didn’t matter that they still were trying to keep Poe’s identity hidden. That was always the major priority when they came into any town. It didn’t matter how far away they were from Yavin. There was always a risk. None of them were positive if they were being followed still or not. It wasn’t something that they were eager to risk.

His heart was pounding as he watched Zorii, then over to Zireael. Silence settled over the tavern, and no one dared to speak. Zireael’s crew had gathered around their leader and stood by to see what this stranger would do. They were outnumbered, and Poe wasn’t sure how unforgiving Zireael was. He had gotten no claims about that. Even the trio in the very back sat watching to see what would transpire. It became clear to Poe at that moment that everyone here respected this young woman. They had no support or allies here.

“Drop it, Zorii Wynn.” Poe grabbed her forearm and sought to draw her away from any sort of argument with the other. This wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. Zorii had pulled her arm out of his grasp and crossed the way to where the hooded woman remained. She hadn’t even acknowledged Zorii in the slightest. Her head had tilted up to blow smoke out as Zorii cleared her throat. The suspense grew between both of the young women, but the brown-haired girl didn’t take another step. Zireael’s crew circled her, and a taller male stood to her right, daring her to take another step.

“Anything to say, Zireael?” Zorii asked with an air of confidence that Poe wasn’t positive that she should have at this moment. He usually adored when she got bold, but this was something that was asking for more trouble. He gulped as watched from behind given that.The chair scraped against the floor as Zireael rose and faced Zorii. The smug smirk on her lips would not remain much longer. Or that’s what everyone guessed. Her hand lifted to stop her crew from taking another step, and they bowed to her. Then she made a fist, and they went to their seats once more. She didn’t even have to speak a word to them! Poe was in awe of that. Striding across the small distance in front of Zorii, sucked in the smoke from the pipe and held it. Puckering her lips, she blew the smoke beside Zorii’s face before she spoke.

“Sit down, girl. My crew is resting and you have no friends here. I won’t entertain you.”

Zorii had turned her head from the smoke before Poe grabbed her arm and tugged her back. Spotting the small wave Zireael gave him before she moved back to her seat. They had evaded another fight. Without even glancing back at Zorii, he pulled her out of the tavern, recognizing this was his chance to avoid a needless quarrel. He didn’t care that Zorii was yelling at him, she had everything under control. He was fighting the impulse to run back into that tavern and plead for Zireael to let him accompany her or help him get home. Poe was having to fight himself as he hastened his pace to the docks. He needed to put distance between him and that place as quickly as possible.

“She was part of the Kijimi Fleet!” Griff whispered firmly as he slipped into the chair in front of Zireael. Her hood had fallen down and her hand gingerly touched her neck, seeking something. The action led to him to glare, but they had just picked up a lead without meaning to. She had already given two of her women the order to follow Zorii and the stranger that was with her. This was a serious lead in their job, and she was going to see that it didn’t slip away. Poe was close. Closer than she could even imagine.

“I heard. We can’t follow them just yet. We aren’t sure who all is with them and we need to see what the king wishes to do. Don’t rush this, Griff. We need to be careful before we strike.”

Zireael didn’t dare try to rush this, and was going to make sure that they had everything before proposing a strike. They had to see what Kes wished to do before they really acted. Her command went far. But this was his son. She wouldn’t overstep her bounds with that.

“Let’s rest for the night, and when the others come back, we can plan with Kes. I don’t want to raise any alarm. They might have slipped up once but they won’t do it repeatedly.”

With that, Zireael rose up and made her way out of the tavern. Passing by the table where the trio sat, she placed a pouch of coins on their table and patted the back of the silver-haired man.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Third month

They had been tracking the Kijimi Fleet for days. Waiting for the perfect time to seize and board their main ship. Kes remained to her right, and Griff on her left. Zireael felt proud of herself. Everything had fallen into place, and it was time to collect their reward. Ever since that night in the tavern, when she had the pleasure of encountering that girl, she had followed them. She had kept distance not to create any suspicion. It was all about to pay off.

“Zireael, you’ve done it.” Kes grasped her shoulder while the young privateer smirked. Had there ever been any doubt? She was young, but she always got the job done. This had just been another job for her, and she was about to close the deal.

“Don’t tell me that my pretty face made you consider I wouldn’t.” The ravenette chuckled while both the men snorted. However, there was one question that all of them but no one wanted to ask. “Your highness, do you think your boy will return with us?”

Just asking made her feel as if she had taken all the joy and happiness from the moment. This was something that she needed to acknowledge before she communicated with the leader and got near the prince. There were a plethora of challenges that could go down when they got on the main ship. Maybe the prince wasn’t even on the ship. Maybe they had taken him elsewhere and led them on a chase just to shake them off the trail. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen.

“I - I can only hope that he does.”

That wasn’t the answer that any of them wanted, but it was the best that he could give them. There was the biggest possibility that Poe wouldn’t come with them, and all of this would be for nothing. Poe could run to them and give thanks that his father had come for him. Either way, they were all intimidated by how the leader would handle everything. They could create an unnecessary fight, and that could lead to something more fatal. There were too many risks for Zireael’s liking and with each one coming to mind provoked her to grind her teeth.

Her eyes lifted to the sky, and another obstacle rose. The ominous storm clouds were rolling in. Time was now of the essence, and she could curse all the deities in the world for this. They needed to catch up now or they would waste their chance.

“Let’s hope this storm holds off and let’s pray your boy has a moment of clarity.”

xxxxxxx

“They have been pursuing us for days, Zorii! We don’t even know who they are!” Marinda groaned as they all sat in Zorii’s cabin. Everyone was on edge and had been since they learned they were being tracked. They weren’t even certain who was following them, but everyone assumed it was because of the prince. Poe scratched at the awkward stubble growing on his face and simply shrugged his shoulders. Even he wasn’t sure who it was or could be. Did he wish it was his father and company coming to save him? Yes, but he didn’t think anyone would track him for this long. It had been three months since he had last been in Yavin, three months since he had seen his father, and Ro. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed her. He missed their simple summers together. What would they have done this summer in Yavin? She would have made him go to the water gardens with her. He would have teased her for not being able to reach any of the fruit that grew from the trees. He would scold her about forgetting her shoes on the way back to the castle. Although he would smile as he carried her on his back to the castle.

“Poe? Poe!” Zorii snapped her fingers in front of his face and he jumped slightly. Had he actually been that deep in his thoughts? That perhaps wasn’t the best thing to do during this meeting that they were having. Everyone was already blaming him as it was, and this didn’t make it any better.

“Could you repeat that?” He asked, working a hand through his unruly curls to move them from his forehead.

“Do you have any idea who they might be? Zorii asked with obvious irritation in her tone. He didn’t seem to care at this point. Zorii claimed his hands were just as stained as hers now. He was part of the Kijimi Fleet and always would be. She had even informed him that if his father found out that they would never welcome him home. Part of him absolutely believed her. He wasn’t a prince. Not in his eyes anymore.

“No, I don’t. They don’t have any colors that would link them to Yavin or Naboo.” Poe deliberately left out Cianna. That kingdom probably never wanted him to show his face again. It was probable that they had even declined to support Kes with any sort of expedition to find him. He could hardly imagine what Ro was going through. When he had first left, he considered she might be ecstatic and reveling in her freedom. But that wasn’t the case now. He thought of her telling him she would wait. Was she waiting for him right now? Or was she grieving, like Ignis had envisioned? He imagined Ignis was proud of himself after receiving the news. He had presumably swooped in to save the day. To mend her broken heart. There was that jealous feeling once again. He didn’t want Ignis anywhere near Ro. Yet there was little he could do now. He was miles away and he would never see home again.

There was still the thought of the young woman from that tavern. She differed from Zorii and Ro. Maybe he could find her again and join her company. She seemed far more respected by her crew than Zorii. Her crew feared her, and Poe wasn’t sure how he felt about that. There was a significant difference between being feared and being respected. He wanted that night at the tavern to have gone much differently. Poe wished he had left with the other, but that was a fading memory. He was with the Kijimi Fleet now, and he needed to accept that.

“Fine, let them catch up, and we’ll let them come on board. We’ll have a surprise for them when they do.”

The prince shivered at Zorii’s words. He didn’t need to ask what she meant or what she had arranged. He already knew, and this was going to be another test for him to prove his loyalty to them and hold his sickness down until after the ordeal.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It should have been a red flag when they neared the fleet’s main ship. Zireael ignored her gut instinct, though. This was certainly their moment, and she would not miss it. They had previously established that Kes would remain on their ship. It was much too risky to have the king with them. If they came back with no prince and a king barely hanging on by a thread, the entire kingdom of Yavin would make them pay. The ships were parallel, and she expected to meet the captain, but got approached by the brunette from the tavern. There was no way.

“Well, I can’t believe I’m facing you again. I’ll make this brief. King Kylo of Naboo is searching for a fugitive and I’m under his orders to investigate any vessel that I come across.” Zireael called out as she stepped onto the railing of her ship, Griff standing beside her as another stood beside the brunette.

“The king of Naboo has no say in this far out on the sea, but I will allow it. Make it quick.”

That should have been her first cue not to do it, but victory was in her clutch. Nothing else mattered in this moment to her. Nothing. They set the plank across to allow her and Griff to walk across. Her crew followed them. One false step and it was all over. The Kijimi crew offered no joy at seeing them on board and glared the minute that their boots touched the deck.

“I didn’t catch your name that night.” Zireael spoke as she readjusted her navy blue overcoat and held out her hand to Zorii. At least the ravenette was doing her best to appear civil to Zorii. She realized that the young woman didn’t want to even see at all. The eyes of her crew were burning into her and Griff’s forms. It didn’t matter to them. They were about to close another job, and that was all that mattered. Somewhere on this ship Prince Poe was hiding, but now it was time for him to come home.

“Zorii Wynn, I’m the captain of this ship.” She grasped Zireael’s forearm, and both of the women felt for any weapon that could be on the other. Convinced that they felt nothing on the other, they released their grip and gave each other a forced smile. Now it was time to investigate. She believed she hadn’t given Zorii any reason to suspect her purpose for being here. She believed that this wouldn’t take too long and that it would be an easy recovery, but she was ready either way. Giving the signal, Griff started below deck while she took the top. They could cover more of the ship this way and this would throw Zorii off the actual trail. She wouldn’t know who to follow. Without lingering on Zorii, the ravenette examined the deck and looked through anything that could hide someone. She investigated every crevice and cranny before she started on her way to the captain’s quarters. However, she noted Zorii was now trailing her, and that raised another flag to her. Zorii was hiding something.

Griff had completed a complete job hunting through the lower deck, despite all the resistance he had faced. They continued asking him why he was searching through everything and what he wanted. None of his answers pleased them. However, he had been interrupted by one girl, Marinda, and they had been taking part in a discussion that was being withheld from the others. The other members simply watched from afar and didn’t disturb them. After a few minutes, Griff made his way back to the top deck and went to find Zireael. He wondered if she had made any progress. The climb of the stairs seemed harder this time, and he dreaded the discovery that Zireael might have made.

He made certain to double check over the deck even though she was through, but he was letting take her time. This was going to be her moment, and he didn’t want to take that away. She truly deserved this, and he couldn’t wait to see how she handled it. He remained in the hall before striding into the captain’s quarters. However, the sight they greeted him with made him cease. There was the prince, gripping the hand of the captain, as Zireael simply looked at them. Zorii’s eyes found his, and he simply cleared his throat as Poe tore his eyes off of Zireael and to him. A flash of recognition shone in the prince’s eyes.

“I’ll ask you again. Where did you get that necklace?” Poe asked through gritted teeth. The necklace that Zireael wore was Ro’s necklace that he had given her the summer before he disappeared. That night had been special to both of them and for some stranger to wear it made him see red. It raised plenty of questions, and Griff could only shake his head.

“That is none of your concern!” Zireael’s voice trembled. She was losing control of herself. Her shield was coming down, and she was struggling to pull it all together. The last moments were upon them, and nothing was going as planned. Before anyone could register what was transpiring, Poe had seized the pleats of her coat and pressed her against the wall. This woman could have done something to Ro and stolen her necklace. The necklace that he had given her.

“Tell me!”

Zireael searched his brown eyes, and all she could see was fury. Her hand shook as she gently raised her hand up to her head. Grasping the top of her hair, she lifted off the raven wig and tossed it to the side. Fingers worked to pull out the pins and release the two burgundy braids. Griff shook his head while Zorii watched in confusion, not recognizing who this girl really was. It was all very confusing for her. However, the sight of Poe’s eyes lighting up at the sight almost went unseen. Her emerald hues searched his, and her hands moved out to cup his cheeks. Her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.

“Poe. . .”

He leaned into her familiar touch and sighed. It had to be a dream. He had daydreamed of her gentle touch for practically three months, and here she was. It was happening, but it wouldn’t last long. He recognized that. Poe wished to hold her and never let her go. He wondered if his father was here with her. She had been searching for her since he had left, and that made his heart swell. She had crossed oceans and possibly suffered so much just to recover him.

“Ro.”

“Who is this, Poe? Get her off our ship! We don’t have time for this! We need to get back to Kijimi!” Zorii reached for Poe’s arm and led him back to her. Her eyes darkened as she studied with the girl who he called Ro. She had heard the stories of this princess, and here she stood. This was one that Zorii had been warned about, and she would not let Poe leave with her.

“Poe, you swore we would go back to Kijimi! We would change the kingdom! You can’t betray me!”

The tears were forming in Zorii’s eyes while Poe looked between her and Aurora. The young woman he had known since he was eight had come all this way to rescue him, and it tore him apart. Zorii’s pleads filled one ear, and Griff stood beside Ro. It didn’t take him long before he realized it was Ignis. His hair was darker, but he could somewhat see the braids that were hidden. Ro didn’t deserve any of this. She deserved far better, and he was different now. He had changed more than she could understand. The prince wasn’t the same, and he couldn’t expect her to accept that. He needed to stop putting himself first. He needed to think of her. It was time to do the right thing. Sighing, he straightened up beside Zorii and let out a nervous sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

It was at that moment that Ro realized Poe would not come back with them. He had taken another path that she wouldn’t be able to follow. This path would keep them apart for the rest of their days, and nothing would bring them back together. Her heart broke at the thought that this was going to be the last time that she would see Poe, and there was so much that she needed to tell him. However, she wouldn’t be able to, and it was tearing her apart. Her fingers were trembling at her sides, and all she craved to do was hug him again. She wanted to tell him that their engagement didn’t matter anymore, and she just needed her friend to come home. She wanted to beg Poe to just come home and be with Kes again. All the words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t force any of them out. Ignis kept his grip on her shoulder and lightly squeezed as they all watched at each other. They were only wasting time now.

“Me too.”

That was all she could say, and she wasn’t even sure if it made sense. It didn’t matter to her anymore. An arm draped around her shoulders and she was brought out of the quarters and back to the plank. Ignis stopped as he took her hand while she climbed up on the railing and crossed the slab. Her head was still high as she started the walk, and she didn’t let her own crew see she was defeated. She didn’t want them to see that she had lost and how upset that she actually was. No, she would make certain that they saw her as they always did. All that faded when Kes came to her and scanned around for Poe. All she could do was shake her head and wrap her arms around him tightly. Sniffling as she hid her face in his chest as she tried to hold back tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

The rain had started to fall and for once she couldn’t tell if it was her tears or if it was the raindrops.

xxxxx

Later that night, Poe sat up in the crow's nest, staring up at the sky. The rain had ceased some time ago, but he didn’t care either way. His eyes weren’t nearly as puffy now and couldn’t stop thinking about her. He could still see his father hugging her when he closed his eyes, but this was to protect them. Poe wasn’t the same anymore and had carried out unspeakable acts that would make his father more than disappointed. He was part of the Kijimi Fleet now, and that’s where he was going to remain. Maybe there would come a chance where he could come home and see them again. He might even see Ro again, but right now he couldn’t think of that. He couldn’t dwell on her. The moment he saw her hair, he almost forgot him. It was a simpler style, and he understood why, but missed seeing her hair in those styles. He had even noted how her cheeks held more freckles than he normally observed in the summer when they would see each other.

Zorii had ascended into the crow’s nest with him and for the first time, he realized how much of a tight fit it was. He did his best to scoot further away from her, but it wasn’t enough. Her head on his shoulder caused him to stiffen, and he didn’t care if she noticed. He didn’t care about much at this point and kept silent.

“Never betray me, Poe Dameron.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The encounter with Poe and Zorii hadn’t gone over how she planned at all. She would not reveal herself until after they had safely brought Poe back. However, her necklace had given her away. Ignis had advised her it would be a risk before they even left Yavin. However, Ro couldn’t make herself take it off. It had been a gift from Poe. Her last link to Poe and it had exposed her to him. There had been hope that when he realized it was her he would come back, but he simply apologized. She had gotten back on the ship and lied to Kes about not finding Poe.

Aurora had kept herself separate from everyone when she got back to the ship. Ro had even pushed Ignis away the moment they got back. She ordered him to oversee the journey home. It riddled her mind with so many questions, so many concerns, and thoughts of him. One thought that stood out to her was his warm brown eyes carried no light. They were so dull. Poe didn’t look like himself. That wasn’t the Poe she recalled. When he had realized who she was, there had been a small light, but it immediately diminished when Zorii spoke. What has taken place in these last three months? They had both changed, but she wasn’t certain if it had benefitted either of them. All she knew now was that she wanted to get to Yavin, then back to Cianna. She needed to be with her Da, momma, and her sister. Home. She craved home.

xxxx

Aurora remained between her father and Ignis as Kes addressed everyone about the prince’s disappearance. The chamber was remarkably warm, and she cursed her father for forcing her to wear this damn dress. It seemed to stick to her skin and trap all the warmth. Ro felt sick as she listened to the king. She had lied. She had lied to protect Poe and let him have his freedom. Her stomach coiled and churned. She could taste the bile building up and did her best not to get sick. Her index finger clawing at her skin around her thumbs, certain it was becoming red and irritated.

“However, I will honor Princess Aurora’s efforts in attempting to locate my son. I will honor her in the custom of her own kingdom.”

No. No. No.

Her green eyes grew with fear and she stared up at her father, who was just as shocked, and he nodded for her to go. She hadn’t earned a braid. No! That braid would be a lie! It wasn’t properly earned at all! Her knees trembled with each step that she took, head bending to Kes. Pressing her lips into a small smile, she shook her head to him.

“Your highness, I haven’t earned it. I could not bring the prince home to you and his people. I can not accept it.” She whispered as her eyes moistened once again. Kes shook his head before drawing her into a strong hug.

“You have earned more than you think. I will always consider you family.” He murmured into her ear. Her fingers twisted into his robes as she did her best to collect herself. Would he say that if he realized the truth? If he knew, she had lied to him and let Poe go with the Kijimi fleet. He drew back from the embrace and gently spun her to face the crowd.

“My braid won’t be as lovely as King Jaqen’s but I shall do my best.” He laughed, and the court followed. All but her. Instead, she looked down and struggled to keep herself from being sick. The moment that Kes gathered her hair and started a modest braid, she thought of Poe. What would he think about this? Would he tell his father how she had deceived him? How undeserving she really was. The darkness in her mind informed her that everybody knew she was a liar. They all knew, and they were simply mocking her. She would wear this braid and its weight would constantly be heavy with guilt. Shame that would remind her of how she deceived a king and his kingdom. The anxiety in her chest was growing and becoming tighter with each second. Ro wished to grasp his hands and scream at him to stop. She didn’t want this braid. Eventually, Kes had finished her braid and bound with her other ones. The whole chamber applauded and cheered for her, her vision blurring from the tears. These weren’t tears of happiness.

After the address finished, Ro dashed back to her room. Ransacking the room, looking for her dagger or anything to cut off the cursed braid. She opened every drawer and emptied its contents as tears streamed down her cheeks. Upon discovering a pair of scissors, she brought them to the base of the braid and looked in the mirror. Cut it. That’s all she had to do. Cut the damn braid and never think about it ever again. Her lip wobbled as she forced down another scream that had been scratching its way up her throat since she left Poe.

“Ro! Stop!” Ignis immediately slammed her door behind him and clutched her wrist. His other hand seized the scissors and set them on the dresser.

“Let me cut this damn braid, Ignis! I order you to let me cut the cursed thing!” Her fingers curved into tight fists as she tore them out of his grasp. Her nails dug into the skin of her palms.

“No! You earned it! Just because prince perfect didn’t come home is not your fault!”

“Shut up! Shut up! You don’t know him!”

“And you do? He left his kingdom, sailed with the Kijimi Fleet, and chose another girl over you! Poe has never loved you! Poe doesn’t love you, Aurora! He will never love you!”

She didn’t want to hear his remarks, and her hand came to caress her necklace. Shaking her head at Ignis because she couldn’t even find words. His words cut deeper than any blade could.

“No! You’re wrong!”

“Ro, please. I have watched since we were young. I see what you miss. Poe is selfish and will never love you. He established that long ago. Let go.”

Before she could stop him, Ignis had reached out and grasped her necklace. The leather was worn from all the exposure, and it took little for him to break it. However, he wasn’t expecting Ro to sink her nails into his skin as he seized it. He started towards the window and opened it. Her pleas were slipping out the window and without a second thought, he flung the necklace.

“There’s nothing to tie you to him anymore, princess.”

She collapsed to the floor as he quietly left her room. The breezing caused her to shiver before she brought a hand up to her lips. Biting down on a bent knuckle as she finally screamed. The other palm hitting the floor as she gave up control. Her teeth were leaving imprints on her skin and splitting the skin. The slight taste of copper on her tongue as she let the emotions escape her. Her tears hadn’t ceased, and her entire body rocked.

She felt numb.

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Months after. . . .

A queen remained in her bed, struggling with each breath that she drew. Her hand tightly gripped by the husband that she adored, her children curled up beside her. The oldest princess wept the loudest, and her fingers tangled in her mother’s blouse. The princess was no stranger to loss anymore, but it wasn’t becoming easier. In fact, it was harder and harder. The father held his wife into a more comfortable position as she fought to brush their girls’ hair. Her fingers ran through their hair as she murmured a lullaby. With each breath she drew, they held theirs, scared it would be the last. When her eyes closed, their father took them back to their rooms and tucked them in, knowing that one of them would seek the other for comfort. He wasn’t shocked when he closed the oldest girl’s door and heard a wail so agonizing that he begged for the maker to ease her pain. The girl was moving and he could hear her destroying everything in her room, not caring what happened to it. She cursed every god that she had ever learned about. Her sobs and screams wracked through her lithe frame and she sank to her knees with her arms crossed and clutching her shoulders. Rocking back and forth as she let the tears spill down her cheeks. The kingdom all mourned that night, but none louder than she. However, they didn’t cry just for their beloved queen. They wept for her entire family, notably the oldest princess.

The snowy kingdom embraced the boy with wide arms, and the queen was overjoyed to have such a noble boy as her guest. She would offer him whatever he requested, craved, and desired, as long as he stayed. He would be taken care of. The girl held his hand as they walked the corridors of her home and taught him all that she could. However, it didn’t feel like home to him. No matter how many times the girl smiled at him, held his hand, or kissed him, it wasn’t enough. The queen’s gifts, dinners, and parties only drove him to miss home more. He missed the father that would give him advice and tease him. He missed his best friend that would always do his best to help him. However, the boy missed the girl that had always tried to be his friend; the girl was just as stubborn as he was; he missed her smile, her laugh, and more. Most importantly, he just missed her. When the news of another queen passing reached the snowy kingdom, the boy left in the dead of night. Not a word spoken to anyone. It was time to go home.

#TW: anxiety mention #TW: mentions of being sick #TW: character death #Poe Dameron x OFC #my writing #mar's writing #My OC #to capture a heart series #Tw: cursing #TW: Angst #Scheduled post

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