#but anyway have my boy on this day and his caribou that just is one of the pure friendships of this story | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jonah-aesthetic · 3 years

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Jingle Bells I Daniel Seavey

Daniel X Reader

Plot: Your best friend since childhood takes you on a sleigh ride. one you’ve only mentioned once to him. With the entire Christmas vibe he brings to life it’s hard for you to keep your feelings at bay for him.

Word count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: unedited I feel like this piece flopped for me. I didn’t want it too long, but it also dragged on a little. Yet I didn’t think I put enough detail in this one.

Rating: 16+ (I’m 20 so I’d like my readers to be some what around there.)

MoodBoard

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Your vision was blocked by a folded bandanna tied around your head with a secured knot or two. Hand tightly locked with Daniel’s, feeling his thumb rub a top yours for comfort. Snow crunched under your Dr. Martens with ease, slightly soft from the snow fall a few days prior. Slow steps as He guided you keeping your location a surprise.

Your senses felt heightened with your eyes looking into the dark oblivion. The vague bitter smell of horse manure and the rather oddly pleasant hay scent Reached your nose. You wouldn’t have noticed it before, almost feeling like a damn blood hound. Yet it gave a hint on where he was taking you.

Two hours previous he woke you up, you’re nothing close to a morning person. So you cussed his ass out of your apartment so you could enjoy the fantasy dreams about him. Ones you could never endure in reality, Daniel’s your best friend who you were insufferably in love with.

Yet he came again, using the spare you forgot you gave him. But this time he came bearing an Eggnog Latte and gingerbread cookie. Slaying the ferocious dragon into silence, the way he always knew how. The caffeine and baked good keeping you at bay as he told you he at the day planned for the both of you. Although it was a surprise, all he said was dress appropriate for the chilly winter weather and grab a blanket.

Analyzing everything in your head for a quick second. You realized he was bringing you on that sleigh ride you mentioned once before. Thinking it’d be fun to do during the winter months, you didn’t think he’d actually book an entire day for it. Making it a big thing, you wish he didn’t. Cause it only made butterflies flutter, tempting you to wreck your friendship.

“Watch your step..” Daniel’s voice is more projected against the snow over ground. Heart slamming upon your rib cage and you swear you can hear it.

“Actually just bend your knees, It’s a stairwell and I’d rather not risk you eating shit. Or breaking a nose in the winter.” At his words you probably figured they were slippery or he didn’t trust you not to slip, you were no doubt clumsy as Bambi, and the man knew it.

Bending your knees a little, which you curious on why he asked you in the first place. Yet you trusted him with your life, there’s no going back on years of friendship now Seavey. his arms scooped you under your legs and against your back. Bringing you closer to his chest, the motion fast and unexpected as you let of a small whimper. Daniel groaned as he hopped getting a more sturdy hold on you.

“God you’re heavy.” He breathes, the air from his lungs hitting your cheeks.

“Then put me down Asshole.” You scold him, slapping his chest, feeling a deep chuckle rumble within.

“I was joking, you’re not heavy, you’re fine. It was a bad joke anyways. Now hold on I might drop you.”

“Daniel That’ll be the last thing you’ll do before you end up in hell.” You threaten playfully. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck after feeling him climb up the stairs. It was a small rocking motion almost like you were on a ride especially with the blindfold on.

“Was that a death threat?”

“If you drop me, yes, yes it is.”

Gasping you felt Daniel fake drop you, it was a slower motion that you thought it would be to actually drop you. Nonetheless it still scared you, clawing on tighter to him. Whitening your knuckles as angry wasps scattered in your stomach.

“I hate you, I hate you, I have you Seavey.” You yelled still preparing for the fall the would never come.

Again you could feel the glorious deep chuckle of his erupt from his chest. Vibrating against you, turning angry wasps into love-sick butterflies. “We’re hear anyways.”

“Than you can put me down and take this damn blindfold off.” You speak trying to reach for it. Daniel’s hand caught your wrist like a reflex. “Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

Opening a door and being engulfed my warmed, you shivered from the drastic temperature change. Bells rang above warning the receptionist that customers have arrived. It was around an hour, or what felt like an hour to you later. Of going over everything for the surprise, from the time to the pricing. Which you weren’t to happy about, yet after all of it nobody confirmed your theory. You knew what it was, but you wanted it to be heard. Though nothing about it was said.

Nada. Zilp. Zitch. Nothing. Not even a damn crumb.

Going from warm to cold wasn't as drastic of a change. Daniel still held you bridal style, scared you eat shit. Which you most likely would have, if he let you climb down the steps. You felt very natural in his arms anyways, like to pieces of a puzzle.

Daniel began to lower you softly letting you go before your feet were on the ground again. Silently thanking him for being on your two feet again. His presence coming behind you, raising his fingers to the knots and began to pick at them.

“Are you ready?”

Yes I’ve been waiting all damn day for this. Take it off Seavey.” Hearing him chuckle behind a smile spread across your face. Feeling the bandanna drop, hands flying to your mouth as you gasped. You knew it, yet you were still shocked by the sight of it.

In front of you was bright red sleigh with gold detailing all around it. Had a massive resemblance to the famous Santa Klaus one. instead of nine reindeer, a beautiful black Clydesdale stood in their place. On of the bands resting upon his butt had a line of huge bells. Ringing every time he moved, bringing the whole Christmas vibe alive.

whirling around gazing at him a gentle smile rested on his lips. His blonde hair half tucked under a black beaning. Light stubble dancing along his jaw, making him look older. His icy blue eyes watching you, fighting the urge to tell him you wanted him. Maybe he knew it already, that’s why he took you here, and maybe he didn’t.

“You didn’t have to.” You said shaking your head,

“I know, I wanted to, I had the money for it.” He shrugged stuffing his hands into his pockets. Why couldn’t Daniel be less attractive! it wasn’t fair. perfect silence emerged over both of you, genuine smiles with adoration for one another hidden behind your eyes.

“If you Two love birds are ready, I love to show you what this gorgeous winter has to offer.” The Driver spoke, sitting upon the front seat that was two or three feet higher then the main seats in the center of the sleigh.

With giddy giggles Daniel escorted you towards it, his hand resting on the smallest part of your back. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear you could’ve felt his hand reach and squeeze your hip.

Sitting down it was a tight and cozy fit, the bench and the back rest was cushioned with a black leather material. Smooth to the touch and soft as ever, with a clicker of the chauffeur’s tongue, the sleigh bolted to life, cause you and Daniel to fall back into each other. Soon enough the jingle bells rhythm came into ear shot. Making this whole experience feel like you woke up in a fucking Christmas. Unbelievable real.

“Are you okay?” Daniel’s laugh fans your cheeks as he helps you to sit up right.

“Never better.” You say with an undying happiness you possessed inside. Not feeling the way the cold nipped at your nose making you look like and off brand Rudolph.

“Here.” He speaks as you watch him unfold a black blanket, a little dumbfound, the thing was massive and surprised you hadn't noticed it before. Handing you one of the corners of the blanket, and instantly wrapped it around you as Daniel did the same. Pulling you two closer together, trying to engulf your body in it as much as you.

“Thanks” you whisper under your breathe, watching it form into an icy cloud. Glancing at the gold letters embroidered into the corner of the blanket tight. it was a gift from Daniel’s mother giving to you on the day you both graduated. Remembering the words she said to you like it was yesterday.

“You know I wasn't to ecstatic about new neighbors moving in. But as soon as I saw this sweet little girl playing with my boy. I was glad that your parents’ pick the that house. I Watched you two laughing and giggling in the yards, I just knew you two would be in separable. It’s a shame that boy of mind doesn't see the love that you have for him...”

It shocked you to know that she knew that you were in love with him. You covered your tracks pretty well back then. Controlling yourself around him was child’s play compared to now. She never interfered with the way you felt about him, You were grateful at the time. Now not so much, but it could’ve wrecked the friendship you had-

“Y/N look.” Daniel’s voice cut your thoughts short, His attention of the right. You follow his gaze, spotting nine caribou in scattered in the woods. Or rather nine reindeer, you guessed they weren’t replaced after all. You could feel the sleigh come to a gentle stop, the jingle bells’ song vanished into the air.

“Oh shit! Reindeer.” No filter with pure shock,

Curiously watching them from a far, you admired each and every one. Noticing a chunky bell lacing around their necks, like they were Santa's famous reindeer's’ out of the movies.

“And watch this.” He speaks glancing up at the driver, as if on cue he places his fingers in mouth and releases a high pitch whistle. “Keep an eye out for him,”

“Keep an out of who?-”

A reindeer further into the forest walks towards us, elegant and gentle. Stalking through the snow as if he held pride, significantly larger than all the other reindeer, he must of been the alpha, the leader.

Amazed at the whole thing you couldn't think of words to say and if you manged something. It’d definitely come out as word vomit. Reaching closer and closer to the sleigh you could her the bell jingle against his chest. Black scribble appeared on the red ribbon clasped around his neck. Soon being able to read the name ‘Rudolph’ on both side on his throat.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Daniel asks looking back at you expecting you to say words you couldn’t fathom at the moment. You gulped and nodded your head vigorously. He was more then beautiful he was stunningly gorgeous and massive. You’ve never seen a wild animal in person not to mention this close to one.

Daniel held a chuckle at your reaction to this entire encounter with Rudolph. Finding your dumbfound shock, adorably cute. In moments like these he dreaded the knowledge of being your best friend and not your boyfriend. Where he could just grab the back of your neck and smash his lips hungrily to yours.

The adrenaline high was retreating in your veins, causing your mind to process again. The cage of anxiety breaking open as the glance of Daniel’s ocean eyes calmed you down.

He’s fucking perfect. Look at those dopy eyes, various shades of blues swirled inside them. causing your heart to melt into the bottom of your stomach. All thoughts of common sense started to leave, glancing at his lips. looking pink and soft as ever, god they must taste like heaven, or at least the closest thing to it.

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend.

Looking forward you could’ve swore you breathed the same air as Rudolph. Still he was more beautiful up close. White creamy chest that reached to his legs, chocolate brown body. adorable nose that had the softest resemblance to a cow. Antlers sprouting from a top his head, developing towards the sky. A small white box was tethered to his left antler by a black ribbon. Throwing your best friend a suspicious glance, he nodded letting you reach for it.

Clasping the velvet box in your hand, feeling your heart pound repeatedly. Breath caught, anxious of what’s in the box. Feeling your gut tell you this was it and whatever this box contained was going to change everything. Distracting yourself you focused on Rudolph, seeing the way he looked at you. As if he knew what it was somehow.

taking your glove off with your teeth you reached for him, pausing three inches before his nose. If you learned anything from Draco’s encounter with Buckbeck, was to be patient and let the animal come to you. Although at the end of the day it was just a fucking movie.

Warmth exploded from your palm to your elbow, smiling you trailed your hand to rest under his chin. His fur softer than you were expecting it to be, yet you didn’t know what you were expecting. “Thank you Rudolph.” You whisper to him soon retracting your hand. Backing away he retreated to his herd, quite as if the encounter with him never happened.

Taking up your spot next to Daniel you glance up at him, “What is this?” You asked breathlessly.

“Open it.” He says, voice a tremble and couldn’t help but think that he knows. Was this what a best friend break up was like? Staring at it you forced the top open, but you let it go. Snapping shut without a glimpse. You shake your head, gulping feeling the bile rise. “I can’t Daniel”

His hand comes into view, twice the size of yours. Veins scattered along his knuckles, red from the cold. Taking the box from you grip you stared at your fingers, missing the feeling of his hands on yours.

“I’m in love with you.” He blurts in out like it was nothing new to you. Your head whipped so fast you got dizzy. His eyes were genuine, you always knew he was lying. The way he would glance up and down then to side. Tongue poking out with a fiddling of handing, but he didn’t show any signs. He was a good actor though.

“She told you.” You accuses like a defensive mechanism. You guessed Keri thought you moved on with your feelings for Daniel. There was no other reason you could think of.

“She did.’ He confirms, Nodding his head. Was this was this a joke to him? Cause it wasn’t fucking funny. You shook your head feeling the fire burning in your blood.

‘I can’t do this.” You speak, removing yourself from the seat and jumping out of the sleigh. Starting to head back in the direction you think the farm was located. The cold weather bite at your body, but you hugged yourself too furious to care.

“Y/N!”

“Leave me alone Daniel.” You could here him chase after you, with the ay he was breathing.

“Mom told me you wouldn’t believe me.” His voice getting louder.

“Maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself Seavey, better yet you should’ve let me sleep in.” You were hurt, and you didn’t know how to comprehend any of this.

“I love when you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like the colors on your paint palette, how you mixed blue and purple for the perfect shade of magenta.”

That was two months ago and you remembered the excitement you felt. After hours of mixing you finally made the exact shade you wanted. Daniel was the first one you came to, as he was at your apartment.

“Daniel stop.” using his name the way you were was like a sting each time.

“Or the time you hit that sparrow, you pulled over as so soon as you felt the bird hit the grill. You dug him a grave with a used spoon in the truck of my car. Gave him a funeral and forced me to speak at it like it was lost friend. It was the day I finally realized I love you with every fiber of my being.” You could hear the strain in his voice.

That happened two fucking years ago.

“It’s not fair.” You speak stopping in your tracks, a good distance away from the sleigh. Feeling his presence behind you, you let him reach out for you. His hand turning you to face him yet you faced the ground feeling like you lost a damn war, defeated and drained.

“I know it’s not and I’m so incredibly sorry.” He sounded like he was begging for you.

“Okay.” you didn't know exactly what it was for, but you felt like it was needed.

His hand came to rest on your cheek wiping a tear you didn’t know slip. His touch delicate against your face, tilting your head up he caught your lips against his. His lips were soft as you fell into sync. Tasting like cinnamon and peppermint. Pulling him closer you lost yourself within him, the feel, the smell, and the touch of him.

Kissing him was like finally finding the last piece of your puzzle, the way both of you fit perfectly together amazed you. He tasted like heaven and heaven tasted like home.

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Felt like I could’ve added more, but its already long.

I hope you enjoyed this piece.

Also if ya made it to the end comment which Why Don’t We guy I should do next.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey imagines #wdw #wdw imagines #why don't we #why don't we imagines #seavey #jonah aesthetic #jingle bells daniel seavey #🐆

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whatiwillsay · 3 years

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t 2017 playlist analysis

Alright folks, whether you’re newly indoctrinated in the swiftgron faith, or have been here for a while, buckle up because boy is there crack coming your way. It should be important to note that these are of course reaches and should be taken with a grain/pound of salt. What you’re about to read is a lyrical analysis of a playlist made by Dianna on her private spotify, titled ‘t 2017.’ Therefore, the only real ‘evidence’ we have to make connections lies in the lyrics, and the general vibe of the playlist.

The following lyrical analyses stems from the idea that Taylor and Dianna may, and I strongly say may have hooked up, possibly around late 2016, or early 2017 (right when this playlist was made). If you haven’t already, I highly suggest reading Cam’s Swiftgron timeline that she has meticulously and laboriously outlined for all of us, so you have more background knowledge on any reaches/connections made. Also listen to her pod for extra serotonin cause I know you bitches want it. Anyway, I digress– I’ll be pointing out only the songs/lyrics that I think are most relevant (and to make this post shorter, I apologize in advance) but I urge y’all to take a look at each songs’ lyrics to see for yourself, because some of these songs seem loud af. Ok happy reading!

Genesis- Grimes

My heart, I never feel I never see I never know Oh, heart And then it falls And then I fall And then I know

This verse talks about the unpredictable nature of love, you never know when those feelings could come rushing in, and there could be days when you feel like you’re never going to love again– gives me cowboy like me vibes with that particular sentiment.

Home and I know Playing the deck above It’s always different I am the one in love

Ok I don’t think this one needs any explanation other than tis the damn season.

1998- Chet Faker

We used to be friends We used to be inner circle I don’t understand What have I become to you

This verse is giving me major the 1 vibes– “rosé flowing with your chosen family” kinda thing. Relationships (yes, even hookups) are hard, especially when you go from knowing someone like the back of your hand, to a being a mere memory. It’s even harder when you run in the same social circles and are bound to bump into each other. What are you to do with all those unresolved emotions/lack of closure? I just find this a bit funny because two years later at SNL, Dianna is actually considered Taylor’s ‘inner circle’ at the afterparty.

Drops- Jungle

When you’re so high, you When you fall from the sky, you So come down from the clouds Come down on me

I’ve been loving you too long

This song sort of encapsulates the feeling of love that is intoxicating, one might even say addicting. In that sense, I’m getting major Style vibes, in that they keep coming back to each other because of that high and intoxicated love. More than anything, this verse reminds me of Clean, and of course Dianna’s infamous tweet, “withdrawals…clearly we had fun” (see Cam’s swiftgron masterpost/timeline for receipts).

Ritual Union- Little Dragon

Straight off the bat, this song gives off major infidelity vibes (something Taylor has been obsessed with as evidenced by Evermore, and of course Babe which btw had a lot of social media signalling/shenanginas happening in 2017/2018). Perhaps Winston was the cuck after all and we did get a swiftgron hookup?

Ritual union’s got me in trouble again I was wonderin’ of a white dress And the mistress And a spirit holding my hand!

You do the math with that one– ivy anyone?

Daniel- Bat For Lashes

Daniel when I first saw you I knew that you had a flame in your heart And under our blue skies Marble movie skies I found a home in your eyes We’ll never be apart

I only have two words to explain this verse– Begin Again

But in a goodbye bed With my arms around your neck Into our love the tears crept Just catch in the eye of the storm

With this verse in particular, there’s this sense of a heartbreaking parting of ways in a relationship. It feels eerily similar to This Love– “your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave.” There’s also a mention of a storm, and we all love a good old storm in the swiftgron universe (Clean, DBATC, CIWYW).

Can’t Do Without You- Caribou

I swear to god these are the only two lyrics

Can’t do without

I can’t do without you

Make of that what you will.

Touch- Shura

This was the song that had me fully convinced that swiftrgon might’ve hooked up again in the recent past. It’s so fucking loud and I did audibly gasp when I read these lyrics. I’m so tempted to post the entire song because honestly every lyric fits their narrative almost to a t, but I’ll try putting the loudest lyrics here.

There’s a love between us still But something’s changed and I don’t know why And all I wanna do is go home with you But I know I’m out of my mind

This love is good, this love is bad. This slope is treacherous, I like it. If the hookup did happen, it’s clear that it’s a bit hard to just pick up immediately from where you left off. Of course there’s still a lot of love there, it just takes time for those years to melt away.

I wanna touch you but I’m too late I wanna touch you but there’s history I can’t believe that it’s been three years Now when I see you, it’s so bittersweet

Ok this is basically swiftgron’s story right here, I mean come on?!?

I’m running down a dream like Tom Petty, I’m a heartbreaker But then you changed up a relationship, I’m mostly bankrupt There’s a new kid on your block, I gotta hang tough

Cowboy like me anyone?

Yeah, the effect of touch hands is like a miracle How is it you’re halfway across the world when I’m still feeling you? Just a touch of my love, just a little bit Ain’t no love without trust, we gotta deal with this

Gives me treacherous and wonderland vibes– “I’ll do anything you say if you say it with your hands” and “you searched the world for something else to make you feel like what we had.”

iT- Christine and the Queens

I feel like this song gives off major Reputation vibes– controlling your narrative/ ridiculing what other people thought you were, etc.

With it I become the death Dickinson feared With it I’m the red admiral on his ship And I raise with infants for my coronation I’ve ruled over my all my dead impersonations

‘Cause I’ve got it I’m a man now

Sunday Love- Bat For Lashes

This is a literal weekend hookup anthem (major tis the damn season vibes) and is also one of the other songs that convinced me of the swiftgron hookup. Again, please look at all the lyrics and deduce for yourself and freak out like I did, but I’m putting the loudest lyrics down.

See her in blue eyes Numb and shining In the face of strangers In the city lights Where he’s climbing Cupid’s diving And I know that she’s come To spend the night

She is in my bedroom Now I can’t fight

Blue eyed lady coming to your house to fuck you. Ok Dianna, real subtle with that. I’m joking but I snorted when I saw this lyric.

I see her in every place I go Sunday love is so cold Even though I’m falling apart I want Sunday love in my heart

You could call me babe for the weekend cause it’s the damn season. Also “I see you everywhere the only thing we share is this small town.”

Sweet Talk- Jessie Ware

There’s never any doubts when i need you It’s just that you can always make me feel like I am slipping in way too deep And let the shadows hope to hide or break the dreaming, dreaming of us

The vibe of this song is that there’s someone who always pulls you in because they know exactly what to say. They found wonderland and got lost in it.

Dear To Me- Electric Guest

When it’s bad Feels like I don’t know which way I should go But over time I come back and remember The one thing that I know

You’re dear to me and I know

I know I’ve tied so many songs to ttds, but I guess it’s all the more reason to claim that one for swiftgron nation? This verse reminds me of “the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you and my hometown.”

Got It Bad- Leisure

This song was added much later to the playlist on Taylor’s birthday in 2019. All other songs were added early feb of 2017. With this song, I don’t get much except cowboy like me vibes.

Got our different ways with the same old payout Had our own dreams with the same old outcome Had a bad extreme and the same old break down Worked it to the bone with the same old habit

Et voila, that’s the end! I know this was super long so thanks for sticking through. Again please note that these reaches were made because we are a little biased through a swiftgron lens. It’s very possible that Dianna simply likes these songs and put it on a playlist, but let’s be real, gays practically communicate through spotify. This is not fact and not proof for anyone to hound Dianna or invade in her or Taylor’s personal life, this is just for swiftgron fun. That said, I’m personally inclined to believe that something did happen between Taylor and Dianna in 2017 possibly. That’s all I have to say, thanks!

submission⬆️⬆️⬆️

ANON THIS WAS AMAZING YOU JUST MADE MY MORNING!!!

you should make a gaylor blog if you don’t have one already we NEED more of this content!

#swiftgron #gaylor swift #t 2017 playlist #best of #submission

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madllamamomma · 4 years

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Journey Back to the South Part 10~

[Ok I am so sorry this is late! I am currently on vacation with my husband, then my step dad now has the virus and that really stressed me out, because I’m closer to him than my own P.O.S. father... Sooooo yeah... Life is a nightmare. Thats why I write fan fiction to escape it..... Thats healthy.... right......right?.... *crickets....* Anyways, enjoy!]

WARNING: Heavy topics about abuse and rape. NSFW.

Part 10~

“You’re important too.”~

As the crowd is continuously distracted by giving praise to the new Illuminator, Muriel is still gently forcing his way towards the front where you are standing. As he finally comes to your rescue, he is just as shocked as you are to find Shona, the sole Kokhurian in all of the Shining Steppe that claims to despise you and your people, hugging your neck and literally crying on your shoulder. Unsure what to do, your hands hover over her but you are unsure what to do with them. “Uummm…”.

“Thank you….” Shona whispers, shakiness in her voice. Just as quickly as she embraced you, she pulls away and scurries off out of the gathering tent without a second glance or thoughts. Everyone else is too focused on showering Ava with much deserved praise, no one else even noticed what had just happened.

You glance up and meet Muriel’s eyes, and he mirrors the same dumbfounded expression that's in your face. As his hand wraps around your waist to pull you close, you both stare out the tent in the direction she fled, and he mutters. “Did…..did she…. just—?”

You nod your head slowly, still completely stunned as well. “I’m…. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who witnessed it. I don’t think I would have believed what happened…… I still don’t believe it actually.”

This is… very shocking. Little did you suspect that she’d thank you let alone hug you.

Soon the crowd makes their way outside around the large fire in the middle of camp. Muriel tugs you both along with everyone else and notice Una standing in front of the fire as she speaks in Ruin. “We thank our Great Mother and Great Father for blessing us with a very fruitful year. We have had many blessings that we have shared. Many victories, and some losses. But we are strong, we will always keep going. Tonight concludes our Winter Solstice! May winter have mercy on us as we continue to honor our Great Mother and Father. May our departed visit us tonight as the spirit realm and the living realm merge tonight....” Una keeps going on, but you start to zone out slightly feeling very tired all of a sudden and you lean into your hermit. Even he looks a bit tired, lusting after a good night sleep.

As soon as the closing ceremony was completed, Muriel, Inanna and you head back to the tent and nearly collapse out of exhaustion. Lazily taking off your clothes and dress into your long shirt and taking off your pants. All the anxiousness you and Muriel had felt for Ava’s trials have all but vanished and left the want to sleep for about a full day or two. Even though the ‘celebration’ was completed, it sounds like others are still up, singing, dancing, and being merry and whatnot… Hmmm… it has to be for Ava. But they deserve to be celebrated over! They worked so hard... You groggily turn over and murmur good night to Muriel and Inanna before you gently drift off to sleep and you feel a feather light kiss on your temple and his warm arm wrap around the small of your back. For some reason you hear Una’s words repeat in your head before slipping out of consciousness.

‘May our departed visit us tonight…… as the spirit realm and the living realm merge tonight…..’

—————————

The feeling of being on all fours and fur all over my body are becoming rather familiar to me now. The dark tundra is frigid and icy and I can see my warm breath cloud in front of my face, yet it never bothers me. The moon is just barely showing any light on the dark plane. I’m alone again…. but not for very long.

I can’t help but feel such joy when I start to sense warm air rush overhead and a large ball of fire lights up the hillside. It’s her…. Rhemi… She flutters her wings over me for a moment and she makes happy little calls and I growl softly back in response. Gracefully, she brings herself down from the sky and perches herself on a nearby bolder. Once comfortable, her flames dissipate showing her dark brown and red feathers, the dark night blankets the vast tundra once again. For a moment I just gaze at her…. Even now, underneath all her magical flames she is so beautiful. She always is…

My body starts to move, and before I realize it I’m sitting next to her by the boulder. Her small beak rests on my snout, and she snuggles up against my thick fur like she always does, even in the real world. I always like how she does that. It makes me feel wanted… loved. After a while the two of us start to stare into the dark night sky, I’m unsure why, but I feel like something is bound to happen soon.

The Aurora’s lights suddenly start to dance across the sky and I can hear that deep humming once again. With bright colorful lights illuminating the tundra, I can see that we are sitting in the middle of Khamgali’s graveyard on a small hill.

One by one I can see what looks like people’s casts burst from the ground and tombstones. Bears, wolves, eagles, hawks, caribou, foxes, and many other animals crawl out. But after they come out, their bodies become physical like mine and Rhemi’s. The bright colors of the cast dissipate giving away to the various furs, feathers and other features. Thousands emerge and stretch their limbs and backs out as if they have been resting for a long time. Soon the creatures start to roam around, seemingly recognizing each other, and greet nearby animals. Some even start to wrestle, chase, or play around on the vast plane. I find myself rather dumbfounded at this sight, unable to take my eyes off the scene. It is even rather entertaining to see.

“...Muriel?..” A very deep male voice calls out from behind us nearly startling Rhemi and I—I…. I feel like I know that voice… The two of us quickly turn around. Two bears are standing side by side; one as big as I am, maybe even slightly bigger, and the other is smaller and silky, beautiful. They both have deep green eyes and have this presence to them that feels…. comforting…. warm… I feel like I know them. Like I used to see them in my dreams before when I was young…

The smaller one starts to approach me warily, apparently attempting to not scare me… She smells sweet like fresh heather and after the morning dew. It finally clicks in my head… Her presence is all too familiar and I step backwards ashamed and I hang my head down low wishing to disappear. I glance my eyes over to Rhemi, still perched on the boulder. She looks a little confused at first, but seems to understand who these bears are as she sees my face. Her ruby eyes light up, and she mutters a low chirp as her eyes glance back to the two bears in wonder.

I shake my head as my eyes shut close tightly and the feeling of dread overwhelms me, tightening my chest and my stomach feels like it's in knots. No…. please no… No, no, no…. I…. I really don’t deserve you or your comfort… all this time I thought you both….. just got rid of me… Because I was a burden… but really you were just protecting me… protecting this land… Now that I stayed here I completely understand why you did….. but for the longest time… I didn’t want to care about you… I didn’t want to even think about you…… No…. I don’t deserve your love.

Suddenly I feel the small bear lifts my head up with hers and starts to softly growl and grunt as she lovingly nuzzles my furry neck with her small silky soft snout. She’s a lot stronger than I expected and she pushes up against me, but she’s comforting non the less…. She has tears in her deep green eyes as she huddles close to me. The other larger one trots over and gently lays his head over top of mine. Why does the feeling of him there so reminiscent of when he would pat me on top of my head? I remember enjoying that when he came back after hunting or trading…. Now that I think about it, I do the same to Ida when I see her.

The two bears both are making very small sad, yet happy, gruff whimpering noises like their hearts are torn in two… I don’t want to… but I feel myself relax as they are around me. I know why you both stayed here and fought—I do now at least… but…… part of me…. wishes we all left the Steppe together—GodDamn it….. that sounds so selfish.…. But…. I wish…. I got to know you both better myself… I wish you got to know... me. Maybe… I’d be more like you two…. maybe I would be braver….. stronger…

The small bear pulls away to look me in the eyes. I can see the corner of lips curl up… she’s smiling at me… she looks… proud? “Our little cub…” She says softly, but somehow does it without moving her mouth at all. Her voice is as silky, calm, and smooth as her fur... Just like I faintly remember when she used to sing home to sleep.

“... Look how you have grown. Our boy, mo ghoul.” The large bear mutters, his voice shaky. His voice minds me of the one in my head. Very similar to my own when I speak, but just slightly different….. it’s strange to hear. “We love you, Son… we always have….”

I don’t open my mouth…. but somehow words flow out like a river before I can stop them. “..... I know….. I know you did…. I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry…” I can feel tears drop down my long nose. Just less than a minute ago, I didn’t want them to come even near me…. but… now…. I don’t want them to leave…. “I wish I was better for you both…..”

“Nothing to be sorry about, my son.” The bigger bear mutters in such a kind and warm tone. “We can never ask for a better son. We are sorry we had to leave so soon.”

The two bears huddle up to me once again. This time they are even tighter… Even though they don't have any arms, I can feel their loving embrace around me. It feels good… Like I have been craving it somehow. “We will always be here with you cub…. Always…. Even if you don’t see us.” The smaller bear says.

….I can feel that pulling once again…. Something is taking me back to my body…..

Please no!..... Why?! Why am I being pulled back now?! Whatever this is—a God? Father Sky? Or Mother Earth?.... or even me…. Please stop this!! Don’t make me leave them!!.... Not again… Please!!! I want to be with them…..just... let me stay…. just a little longer….. wait… —WAIT!

“We love you, little cub.” I can hear them both say as I fade away from this realm….

“..... I love you both too…..”

————————

You can feel as Muriel snaps his trunk up from the bedding with a gasp. For a moment he just sits there panting hard. His movements wake you from your slumber as well. But it takes you a few seconds for you to sit up and get awake. Once you feel like you can move your body, you rub your tired eyes to comfort Muriel… Those bears... they were Glenna and Artturi… his parents. Una mentioned that the solstice was the time when the spirit realm is closest to the living. You glance up towards the hole in the tent. It’s still night, the moon is hardly even out... Probably not even midnight yet.

Carefully you slide your small fingers and lace them with his and he very slowly tightens his grasp. You both sit there for a while in silence listening to the fire crackle and hiss. “...You ok?....” You very quietly ask, leaning your head against his large deltoid and look up to his very emotionally torn face. He presses his lips tightly together and he very sluggishly nods his head, but you can see the tears forming in his eyes. “.... Ya’ know….. It’s ok to miss them….” You whisper.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying so hard to say what’s on his mind. “I didn't…. I didn’t care when I forgot their voices… or their faces…” He stops for a moment and he closes his eyes and furrows his brow, thinking hard. “.... I dunno…. maybe I didn’t think I did…. but… but now… I.... I just…. just…. wish……” Tears flow from his eyes and chokes on his sentence. He covers his eyes with his hands to stop them and shakes his head irritated with himself as his body starts to tremble. “.....S-... Sorry…. Rem.” He murmurs through his tears.

“Please, don’t be sorry, Mur...” Your heart breaks in two anytime you see him cry like this… but it’s to be expected after that dream. Sitting on your knees, you wrap your arms around Muirel’s shoulders from behind him and place a kiss on his temple bone. Those two bears were his parents' spirits…. ghosts?… previous casts?— Well…. whatever you want to call them, and however they got there hardly matters. The fact is that they were there to see him. Perhaps Artturi still can leap into dreams even after death?...Maybe he knows how to bring Glenna with him?...Who really knows?... You take in a large thoughtful breath and place a soft kiss on Muriel’s head again. “... It’s okay to miss them… even if you don’t remember.” You understand how it feels not to remember your parents faces either. It hurts not to know—it’s almost infuriating how much it does.

He shakes his head avoiding looking you in the eye. “.... All my life…. I didn’t… let myself… miss them..... but n-... now…. Do… do I even have the right to?.... Especially after the way I thought of them? That they just... abandoned their only son?”

“Of course you do, Love…” You tenderly guild his head down and turn him so he rests his head on your chest and pet his hair and he clutches the back of your shirt. He seems to feel soothed once he’s there and starts to calm down a bit. “….. You were too young to understand what was really happening…… no one was there to tell you tell you otherwise….. You did what you had to do to survive….. Perhaps thinking that they sent you away was a method of coping with it all… somehow to make sense of it... It’s better than not knowing anything forever… I think guessing about it most of your early life would have been worse.” He huffs a long exhale and shrugs. Your fingers brush through his dark hair pulling it out of his handsome face. “...You really shouldn't beat yourself up about it, Muriel. ”

“.... I wish I could… see—” He slightly flounders in his words, then gives up mid sentence in frustration. “—I…. I don’t know…..”

“Come here…..” You whisper, very tenderly pulling him back down to the bedding. As you rest your head back on the pillows and he buries himself into your neck and shoulder holding you tight while you both lay on your sides. You squeeze him back comfortingly, tears still slowly trickling from his eyes. “... They both were so happy to see you….” You mutter just above a whisper, pushing back his hair out of his face again.

He softly closes his eyes, melting into your touch, but doesn't appear to be convinced. “.... How can I know?.... Know for sure?..”

“They were. I know it…… So do you…. they loved you, Muri. They still do….. I… I think they’re still watching like Khamgalai….. But perhaps the Great Lights really do hold a part of their spirits….. even after a year has passed…. just like Kok… I guess we’ll never really know for sure…. But I know they are proud of you. You could tell on their faces.”

“...... I….. I wish I could have known them…..” His body starts to feel slightly warmer as he looks back into your eyes rather sheepishly. “... I wish…. they could have met… you….”

You smile back at him a little… He doesn’t know. “Well…” He lifts his head up slightly and listens to you intently. “....Before….. I woke up….. And you left…. For some reason I stayed a little longer….”

“...What?” His eyes light up and widen as you say that. “.... What…. what did they…?”

“.....They just…. Kinda hugged me—well first your mother inspecting new all over like Una did our first day here— but then they both nuzzled their faces kindly on me like they did to you….” You can feel as your cheeks glow red as you continue and Muriel still has his eyes locked onto your in astonishment. “...They asked me…. To take care of you…..”

“They….. they did?” Muriel seems to get a hold of his tears now. You scoot into your back and he follows, slightly hovering over you, resting his hand on his propped up arm... “.....and… what did you say?”

You can’t help but give a silly love stricken grin as you open your mouth to tell him the answer. “I told them I would… forever…. until I drew my last breath… and even after that…..” Your hands start to shake a bit, feeling anxious as you continue, and you grab his large hand and caress his palm with your small thumbs. “.... I will always be here by your side, Muriel. I will protect you with all my might….” His eyes seem to sparkle when you utter those words and he looks so adorably smitten. But then your brain decides to ruin the moment as overthinking takes over and you start to expel words. “Well—I know that’s not saying much… I-I’m not very strong physically compared to you—…. but you know I can kick some ass if I need too— I won’t let anyone hurt you that’s for sure! As long as I can—” Suddenly Muriel’s hand cups your right cheek and he presses his parted lips to yours, stopping your silly rant and kisses you like you're the air he needs to breathe. A little surprised muffled squeak escapes from behind your teeth, but then you start to melt into his touch and kiss him back.

As he very slowly pulls away, his forehead meets with yours with a little happy grin on his face as he strokes your bottom lip with his thumb. “.... Sometimes….. you talk too much….” He says with an amused snort.

You slightly pull away, sticking out your bottom lip, feeling a little embarrassed and you avert your gaze to the other side of the tent and sigh, “Yeaaaaah….. I know…” You do have a tendency to rant at the worst of times.

He exhales sharply through his nose and he turns your face back with his thumb and pointer. “....But I love you for it….” He sits up, holds you close and your head rests in his large shoulder as he embraces you tightly, and you kiss his neck a little. “... thanks…. for being here… and…. letting me talk… and understanding me…”

You smile wrapping your arms around his strong torso. “I always will, Muri… I love you… with all my heart.”

“... I love you too….” His whispers back in your ear very sweetly.

He returns laying on his side facing toward your direction and the two of you lay there facing one another, still entangled in each other's arms as you both drift off back to sleep.

—————With feather made of hot embers, you float back to the realm of dreams————

…….But this time Muriel isn’t there with you….

You glance down, and your feathers have faded away and you are in your normal body.

This place…. it looks familiar….. you're not sure where you’ve seen it before. But it feels like you’ve dreamt…. or maybe been there…. but a very long time ago...

—It’s night time again. The buildings look different to you compared to the ones back home. They are mostly made of wood instead of brick or stone, they are delicate looking. Tall mountain peaks are surrounded everywhere, on the very tops are powdered with snow. It looks like whatever city you’re in, lives in the heart of a valley. The sea is nowhere in sight, neither is salt in the air. You’re landlocked. It's rather pretty scenery wise, but a strong sense of foreboding seeps into your chest as you continue to roam this strange place…. Why do I know this place…. it's so pretty here… so why do I feel like I hate it?

Suddenly you stumble upon what looks like a noble’s house… a vast mansion with tall widows and ornate sculptures everywhere… It's rather lovely… almost reminds you almost of Nadia’s palace, the bright lights inside make the stained glass windows shimmer as they cast their colored light on the stone outside. As it appears to be flakes of snow are softy falling down. You peer up and twirl around, even though you hate being cold, you have always liked to watch snow as it fell from the heavens. Cupping your hands, you reach out your palms to catch them. However the white snow turns dark and looks ominous. Once it falls into your hands you then realize it’s not snow at all—It’s soot and embures falling from the sky. Your body makes an about face back to the beautiful home. The entire mansion is now engulfed in flames. You never thought that stone or marble could catch fire…. but it seems that you were wrong….

There isn’t a soul around and you look all over for someone to help put it out. But it’s dead still other than the terrible flames consuming the building. You're still all alone…. or so you think…. Out of nowhere, a lone woman with dark brownish red shoulder length hair, and very familiar looking clothing is suddenly standing in front of you about eight meters away. With her back turned away as she stares at the flames as they quickly eat away at the mansion. “...H-... Hello?” You quietly call out to her, almost afraid to utter a single word.

Eerily the mysterious woman turns her neck around very sluggishly, just enough to reveal a small part of her profile over her shoulder. The whites of her eyes are blood red and sickly looking, you can even see red veins under her eyes and mouth. You take a few steps back instinctively out of fear. I know that look all too well…. The red plague….. those are the end stages…. The visible corner of her lip curls up into a comfortable grin as she stares at you with those cold burgundy eyes that almost have no life in them.

Your feet take a few steps back in fear. “Who….. who are you?”

She still won’t turn herself all the way around to face you, but there isn’t any denying her familiar features.... Is that…. me? Your eyes squint and you tilt your head feeling just completely dumbfounded once again tonight.

Finally she opens her mouth and begins to speak over the loud roaring flames as the mansion’s riff begins to crumble away. “...... You know who…...” it’s rather creepy to hear your own voice answer you, but it sounds so weak… so tired… so strained.

“What do you want?...” You ask not sure if to run or press on.

“.... Truth….” She replies, the loud noises if the inferno dampens as she speaks, you can hear her crystal clearly.

“...Wha—What do you mean ‘truth’?” You shake your head slowly trying to comprehend this strange answer. “Where are we—?”

A loud viscous enraged scream suddenly comes from the fiery mansion making you nearly jump out of your skin. It sounds like a person has been very badly injured…. But a very icy shiver runs down your spine and shakes you to your very core. It sounds like the voice of the creature who killed Ezavior—It frightens you to hear it again so soon. “W-..... What is that?? Is there someone in there? Shouldn’t we save them??”

The wind starts to pick up her hair and flows over her face. “....You know who…..”

You feel as your mouth sneers at that preposterous answer. “What??—No I don’t! That's why I’m asking!”

“You know who it is…..” She repeats sounding almost saddened. “.... You can’t deny it….. You know they survived… You remember seeing them… don’t you?”

“What—? No!!! I don’t!!! Don’t you listen??” You start to become frustrated with all of this strangeness, and just desire answers, not more coded messages.

She shakes her head disappointedly, her grin falls and turns her back to you once more and sighs. “...You're still not ready… one day your going to need to face this…I may not be here to protect you anymore.....”

“What?— What does that even mean?”

“.....Now is not the time…. Not yet.... you should go.”

“What do you mean I’m not ready?!— WOOOH!! HEY!!” Out of nowhere an invisible force wraps around your torso and throws you backwards through an open door frame. It’s so dark inside.

She finally turns all the ways around, but the flames cast too dark of a shadow for you to see her sick face. “Go…. be with him… enjoy the time you share spending together.” She says warily.

“What do you mean?? What’s going on?! Wait just a moment!!! Why aren’t fucking answer me??”

She brings up her left hand and waves it. “I suppose you’ll see in time….” She utters lastly as the door shut in front of your face before you can dash out of it.

“Wait!!!” You scream right before the door completely slam closed. It then starts to feel farther and farther out of reach then it completely disappears into oblivion and you find you yourself running towards it. “WAIIT!!!!!”

—————

“Mmmmmmm…. W-Wait......” Your body sits straight up and you wake with a start fluttering your eyes open….. Did I just say.. something… just now? What was I even doing?

“Rem—You ok?” Muriel and Inanna quickly come to your side from the middle of the tent by the fire, both look rather worried. “—Was it another bad dream?”

You squint your eyes and look all around, slowly becoming oriented with where you exactly are. “Hmmmm? Wha-.....What now?”

Muriel brushes his knuckles against your sleepy cheek and huffs a bit grumpily. “.... Did you just have a bad dream?”

You realize that you were just dreaming and it was a strange one too. You tilt your head looking at the covers, squinting your eyes in attempts to recall it… but there is just nothing…nothing you can remember about what you just dreamt. Inanna nudges her snout under your right elbow and you start to lift your arm up to pet her still pondering hard. Your lips click, and you shake your head a little. “...I….. I don’t really know….. it was definitely a weird one….. But I…. I can’t really tell you what happened in it….” He looks at you pointedly, brow slightly furrowed, looking for any signs of fibbing. You stifle and yawn and drowsily smirk taking his wrist and place it over your cheek, cuing him to hold your face. “I told you I would talk to you. I promised, Mur. This time I really don’t remember. I would tell you if I did.”

He sighs and he slightly relaxes as you lean into his touch and he strokes your cheek with his thumb, looking more convinced. “Alright….” He leans down and kisses your forehead sweety and you do a little happy tired wiggle. “Come on, I made some breakfast for us.”

“Alrighty~” You get yourself out of bed, quickly donning your tight pants for warmth. It may be warmer from the fire in this tent, but the temperature has most definitely gotten colder since you both arrived nearly two weeks ago. As you get on your socks, you see that Muriel was kind enough to make you some fish and eggs for breakfast. And you start to boil the kettle for tea. “Whatcha think, Love? Earl grey, or cinnamon chai this morning?”

“Hmmmm….” He looks thoughtfully glancing between the tea tins, then closes his eyes. “..I like them both... But Chai always goes good with fish… I think so anyway...”

“Oooo!! That’s true. Good call, my sweet~” You say with a toothy yawn and start to prep the tea cups. While the tea steeping, you take the time to stretch like you do every morning when you can, making your spine and hips pop satisfyingly. Muriel just shakes his head with a small grin as he watches you. He may attempt to hide it, but you are pretty sure he likes to watch when you do a stretch called ‘the pigeon’, it shows off how flexible you are.

Soon all three of you start to chow down breakfast that your hermit so kindly made for you in comfortable silence. Slowly you start to wake up, the food and the chai tea slowly bring you back to life this early morning. As Muriel swallows his last piece of fish, then stares very thoughtfully into the fire, a somber expression washing over him. “.....Should be leaving soon.” He faintly breaks the silence and you stop mid bite to listen to him. “.... Gilbert says the snow will be falling any day… don’t want to get stuck…. Asra would be sad….and so will his idiot.” Muriel's face looks almost sad when he says that. You can only imagine how hard it is to leave his new found family. But you both have obligations back in Vesuvia… you with the shop and him with the forest.

You lean into his arm and snuggle up to him and he leans back. “We’ll come back next year.”

He blows out sharply through his nose and brings his tea cup to his lips. “....Yeah, I know.”

You both lapse back into silence for a moment and you think about the middle of last night during the dream in the graveyard and Muriel’s parents. He said he didn’t remember their faces or voices….. but Una has a way of tapping into distant memories. “Hey…. Muriel?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you remember when we first met Una in the graveyard?”

He nods firmly, unsure where you're getting at. “...What of it?”

“...Well .... I was thinking… about last night…. What you said…. about your parents….”

“Oh…..” He averts his eyes over to the other side of the tent and still looks a bit ashamed for some reason. “What does that have to do with the first day we met everyone?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, curiosity now in his gaze.

You look back at your warm tea and run your pointer finger over the rim. “... Well…. before we leave… maybe…. you can ask Una…. to show you…. your par—”

“--M-Madainn mhath!” Just as you were about to finish your thought, you hear a familiar little child’s voice outside the tent. “....Cousin!..... Not Cousin!!” It’s Ida. And by the second pair of feet stepping behind her, it sounds like she isn’t alone. Inanna's tail starts to wag as she hears her little voice and quietly whimpers in excitement. Who is gonna miss Ida more when we leave? Muriel or Inanna? You smile and chuckle to yourself. “....Are you both awake?” Ida calls out again, but a little quieter in fear that she may be disturbing you two.

Muriel and you exchange surprised glances, it’s still early in the morning. You shrug and you and Muriel stand up. “....Uhhh…. H-hang on, Ida.” Muriel replies, grabbing his shirt and throwing it on while you make yourself decent. He shoots you a quick glance before opening the tent and you nod once you fasten your corset belt over your long shirt.

Once the entrance is untied and opened, Ida steps in and Inanna goes straight for her, licking her little face and she giggles adorably. “Nana!! Tha thu a ’fàileadh mar èisg!! Hee-hee!” She hasn’t been wearing her hood lately, perhaps she’s becoming more comfortable in her own skin. Not very much to your surprise, Ava comes into the tent behind her, they look a little tired, evident with the small bags under their eyes. They were probably up all night celebrating after getting the approval from the elders, but they look so happy like a five ton weight was lifted off their shoulders. It looks good on them.

“Ida…. Ava.” Muriel says stepping aside to welcome them in with a nod. “Morning.”

Ava smiles up at him with a toothy grin, this is the happiest you have even seen them other than last night. You are actually excited to see them again. The last you saw of them they were being paraded around camp the night before and you didn’t get to say good night. You lunge forward and wrap your arms around them giving them a large hug, almost startling them (but they have almost gotten used to your mannerisms). “AVA!!!! How’s my favorite Master Illuminator doing today~?” You ask cheekily, moving them slightly side-to-side in excitement.

Ava’s face quickly flushes, yet they can’t help but keep a large humble smile on their lips as you call them that. You pull away so you can watch as they communicate with their hands. “... Not a master yet, Rhemi….. but I am officially an Illuminator now… that is thanks to you and Cousin Muriel of course.”

“We were very happy to help! Right, Love?” You turn your face towards him with a giddy looking grin.

Muriel smiles over to Ava and gives a solid nod, then reaches down and pats Ida’s head and she giggles again. She turns around, grabbing his wrist and starts to inspect it. He snorts, knowing what she is looking for. “Don’t worry.” He says showing her the bracelet she made him. “... I haven’t taken it off…. I promised you I wouldn't.” Her little cheeks are painted bright pink as she lifts up her arm and shows hers as well.

Ava makes a little muffled laugh at the two of them then turns their attention back to you. “Sorry to interrupt you both this early in the morning. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s alright. We were just having some breakfast.—We have some tea left if you’d like some.”

Ava politely shakes their head. “We are here on business…”

“Business?” You repeat with your head tilted slightly a little surprised.

Ava scratches their neck and looks slightly sheepish. “.... The elders are all in the gathering tent this morning. They asked me to come and get you two. They want you and Cousin to join us.”

Muriel looks rather confused, still not understanding Ava’s hand language as you start to look uneasy. Ida tugs on his large wrist to get his attention. “Momma, Papa and the other old people—” Ava shoots their sister a particular scolding look and Ida tries to recover herself. “.... I-I mean e-elders—wanna see you and Newcomer in the big tent where we eat.”

You look over towards Muriel then back to Ava. “Wait…… the elders?…. Are…. Are we in trouble, Ava??”

Ava shrugs and scratches the back of their head, honestly, not really knowing what the deal is. “Elder Evander said to try not to keep them waitin’--.” Ava gently smacks the back of their sister's head to scold them. She apparently wasn’t supposed to say that part. Ida rubs where she was struck and blows a raspberry at Ava and they just sigh irritatedly.

“Sorry…. Take your time, but they are all waiting for you two.” Ava communicates sheepishly, noticing that you aren't fully dressed with your plum colored overshirt and blue skirt.

Muriel huffs slightly grumpily, from Ava’ expression, he could tell what they were saying. “Tell them we’ll be there in a moment.”

Ava nods and opens their hand up for Ida to grab hold. She takes it and they both walk out the door and Muriel closes it so you can get dressed.

Feeling nervous, you try to get dressed quickly, but fearing the worst. “What do you think that they want us for?”

Muriel shrugs, taking off his shirt to fasten his belts to his torso. “Maybe it’s about leaving. They may want us to get going before the snow starts to fall…”

“I doubt that… If we decided to stay, I think they’d be more than overjoyed.” Muriel pauses for a moment, and hides a little smile, he won’t admit it, but you know he agrees. “Uggh….. I hate that we have no idea why they are calling for us…… You know…. I get a feeling like I used to get into trouble a lot…. Maybe that's why I am so anxious.”

Muriel stifles a chuckle sounding a bit too amused. “Why doesn't that surprise me?”

“What does that mean?? I’m a goddamn angel~” You smile fakely innocently and bat your eyelashes.

“Pffttt!!! You’re a goddamn mess is what you are.” He throws his head back and cutely laughs with a large smile. “... Come on. Let’s not make them wait anymore.” He leans down and quickly steals a kiss and it makes you feel a little more calm.

“Well if we are in trouble, at least we're in trouble together.” You say with a smile, throwing your traveling cloak over your shoulders.

You follow your hermit out the tent, through camp and to the gathering tend, trying your best to not feel so anxious about all of this. As the two of you make your way inside the gathering tent, you notice that not only are Una, Gilbert and the other elders that you expected to be there; But Ronin, Tad, Ava, and Shona are also there. They are all sitting in a semi-circle on the blankets and pillows a new feet away from the fire. Una is holding her boy baby in her arms as he sleeps away peacefully.

“Muriel! Rhemi! Madainn mhath!!” Gilbert cheerily greets with a warm hearty chuckle like he normally does. He points to the front of the semi-circle. “Come, come, come! Have a seat!”

You take Muriel’s hand, feeling him starting to get a bit anxious as well and you both take a seat. He hates being front and center of everything. “We…. we aren’t in trouble…. are we?” You warily ask sporting a nervous smile.

Una jolts and sputters at the thought, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh heavens!——No!! We just have something we would like to discuss, that's all! Something good!” She then smiles reassuringly at you. “Sorry if we worried ya!”

You exhale a long relieved sigh and relax your shoulders and lean into Muriel’s side. “Pfffew!! Ohhh!!! Thank goodness…..” You mumble under your breath and Muriel quietly snorts at you.

Gilbert chuckles a little at your apparent relief. “OH! Before I forget…” Gilbert pulls out the journal from his fur cloak. “I read it all, Rhemi. Three times, in fact. It’s fantastic. I couldn’t ask for a better representation of the stories of old and of our history. It was very well written.”

“Thank you…. Can’t take all the credit, though! I had some help from Ava of course..” You nod towards Ava and they blush a little, seemingly at this point out of habit. Gilbert smiles over to his child, their face heats up even more and scowls as if to say, ‘please don’t look at me like that!!!’

He stifles a chuckle, shaking his large shoulders as he sets the journal down next to him and looks back to you and Muriel. “Well, I’m sure you want to know why we asked you both here this morning… We have something to ask of you both….” He pauses for a moment, what you could only guess is for effect. “...Since you two have been here, you have helped in so many ways…. Muriel helped us catch fish, fixed some things here and there, learned to grow plants with Una like your mother did, you even took care of the chickens and other animals during the mornings, you spared my young little warriors cubs to help them better defend themselves. Ha!! You even did patrol a few times when no one asked—you didn’t have to do that. Any of those things… But we greatly appreciate it....” Gilbert then reaches out his hand, gesturing to you and you stiffen. “....Then you, our Newcomer! You helped preserve our history and documented it accurately…. You’ve helped revive an old tradition of the Illuminators, and help my eldest child so they could pursue their dreams of becoming a storyteller. We just can't thank you enough. We are just glad that little cub has someone like you.”

You can feel Muriel’s body start to heat up and his heart pound, but he still holds your hand and doesn't show signs of letting go. Una chuckles softly at Muriel, lifts up her head and starts to speak.“.... Berty and I know you both have plans to get married when you go back to Vesuvia….. My husband, the other elders and myself have been discussing… and we have one more request before you both leave…. Many years ago, we had a tradition called the

Gabhail Ris Ceremony.”

You tilt your head, squinting your eyes thoughtfully. “.... ‘Accept…. it’��. ceremony?” You mutter the translation slightly perplexed.

The old woman that passes out the ale every night barks a quick amused laugh. “... Sometimes words have many meanings in the language of old, little one. Sometimes they can be lost in direct translation…. gabhail ris also means ‘acceptance’.” Her voice is shaky and has age to it, like the little old woman that you make a reumatizam potion for. She’s also very sweet and cute, but rather strong for her old age...

Gilbert nod then continues on after the older woman explains. “...Yes! Many many years ago, when a Kokhurian married someone from outside of our tribe, they would conduct a little ceremony. It was a way the betrothal’s family, mostly the parents, showed their child’s betrothal acceptance into the tribe—Not just as their spouse, but as an individual of the Kokhuri. Traditionally the ceremony was conducted the day or two before the actual wedding, but we know that you two are planning on becoming wed once you're back to your home in the north… we can’t be there when that happens, but… Well…. we wanted to ask if we could at least conduct this ceremony as a sigh of our gratitude—” Gilbert pauses and drops his gaze, a somber expression washes over his usually cheery face as a thought crosses his mind. Una notices his silence, peers over and places her hand on top of Gilbert’s and squeezes it. Her touch seems to snap him out of it. His eyes glance back up and he grins back at his wife and he clears his throat before pressing on. “..... Moonlight and I know we could never replace your parents, Muriel—We would never want to either…. But we care about you like you were one our own cubs….. That day we saw you at Aunt Khamgalai’s hut, well…. it felt like you were a missing piece in our hearts.... now that you're here, it’s like you’ve never left…. ” Muriel doesn’t seem to know what to do with that statement and his face turns a little pink. But you can tell, he feels the same way. “.... We also know that Glenna and Artturi would have loved Rhemi to death. And if they were still here——well…. they would have wanted this….. So…..” Gilbert trails off and peers back to Una, they suddenly place their right hands over their hearts and half bow while still sitting on their knees and Muriel starts to stiffen at the gesture, holding his breath. “..... Una and I want to host a Gabhail Ris ceremony in your parents honor.” Gilbert lifts his head up slightly to look at the two of you. “...That is, if it is alright with you, Muriel… It’s your decision afterall.”

Muriel quietly sits there next to you and flutters his eyes. He is completely baffled by this request. Honestly so are you. As you both sit there you can’t help but think to yourself,….They want to accept…. me? An outsider as their own??..... Muriel finally looks down at you and you both have no idea what to say. He flounders for a moment trying to understand everything. “.... You both want to make Rhemi….. an honorary… Kokhurian?”

Una and Gilbert straighten their torsos back up and she rocks her baby a little, shaking her head. “Rhemi wouldn’t be just honorary, she would be part of us. It’s more like… an adoption so to speak.”

Muriel’s eyes become a bit watery and squeezes your hand tight as he looks at you again for what to say. With one quick soggy eyed smile, he nods to himself and exhales sharply through his nostrils glancing back to Una and Gilbert. “I—…..we—….” He stutters a bit, still shaken at this beautiful gesture and he takes a deep breath. “.... It would be an honor if you accepted my br- br-....” His face quickly becomes red and panicked at that word, and he scowls grumpily at himself, drapes his arm over your shoulder and proudly hugs you in front of the elders. “—R-Rhemi….” He then picks up his eyes and glances back at every elder with such gratitude. “Thank you….. both of you…. I mean all of you...” Your heart feels so fluttery and overjoyed as he utters those words. But then you smile uncontrollably at yourself a bit. Bride…. he was going to call you his bride. He still can’t say those words. Jeez, he’s too cute. Everyone’s faces light up and are so exactic and they all start to speak amongst themselves. Tad and Ronin are giddily huddled together trying not to cry sappily. They did say they loved weddings. Ava looks so happy and has this sweet looking emotion on their face as they look at you and Muriel, almost like a sense of longing. But Shona looks pointedly at her knees, she doesn’t look upset or angry like you expected. Instead she looks like she’s full of regret, she still won’t even look at you or Muriel or anyone else at all. Ava notices and places their hand on her shoulder and pats them comfortingly, but she still shrinks into herself.

Una hands the baby to her husband and takes the small bundle gently and starts to make silly faces at him, and he coos sweetly. Once her hands are free she makes a single clap, making a loud smack getting everyone’s attention once again. “Alrighty then!!! Now— there is one other thing…” The elders stop their chatting and listen to her carefully. “... Traditionally, Muriel’s siblings, usually with femine understands, would be assisting Rhemi to get ready for the ceremony….. However, Muriel doesn’t have any siblings. The other option is that a Kokhurian would volunteer to keep taking her into their care. So we need a person, of age, mind you, married or unmarried that would represent Rhemi. They will act as your Neach-Cùraim, or caregiver and will help you prepare for the ceremony, and teach you what to do.”

With a determined look in their face, Ava makes their way to stand up to volunteer. But suddenly Shona grabs their wrist before they get to their feet. The twin’s eyes meet and she tugs them back down, quickly whispering something in their ear. Ava's jolts and their face becomes rather red and they return to their seat looking complexly embarrassed hanging their head down low. Then, the tent goes dead quiet as Shona stands up to her feet. Everyone stares at her as she takes a large breath before moving her feet toward you and Muriel in front of the semi-circle. She still won't look you in the eye, keeping her gaze glued to the ground, but she suddenly places her right hand over her heart, and bows slightly, making her long braid fall off her shoulder. “... I’ll represent the Newc— I.. I mean….. Rhemi.” Ava and Gilbert’s mouths drop to the floor in utter shock and quickly exchange perplexed looks. Una eyes seem to gleam with pride as her lips sprout into a large smile, just beaming at her daughter.

Muriel’s eyes meet yours and the both of you are mirroring the same astonished expression as Gilbert and Ava. She…. wants to… help...me?... ME?! You flutter your lashes and look back to Shona with your confused big burgundy eyes. Her demeanor has completely flipped, normally incredibly confident, short, and snooty, she’s now very sheepish and humble. It is almost alarming. “You….you want to represent…. me?.... A-A Traveler?” You ask, tilting your head a little bit, not knowing if you are comprehending completely at this moment. Maybe…. is she misunderstanding?

She straightens back up and starts to play with her braid, opening and closing her mouth a few times, seeming to be struggling to form words. “I....I would be honored to represent you, Rhemi.” At last she answers. “...No one is more worthy of becoming a Kokhurian than you….I see that now……. And yes…. I would be happy if you let me…. If... If that's alright with—OOF!!”

Your body moves before you can stop yourself as you quickly stand to your feet and embrace her without a second thought. “I will be happy if you would, Shona.” Her cheeks light up a bright pink and for a moment; her face looks just like Ava’s has in the past; she continues to avert her eyes away from yours and her trunk is a little tense in your arms.

You realize that you may be making her uncomfortable and let go and awkwardly scratch the back of your head and everyone in the tent is rather quiet. Una looks to her husband and nudges with her elbow and he snaps out of the stupor. “Hmmm?—AH, Yes!!! Right, right, right!—Alrighty then!! Shona will be in charge of getting Rhemi ready! Good, good, good! That solves that problem!”

Una practically jumps to her feet, looking so completely thrilled with all of this. “Well, best be off then!! Let’s get you to my tent, eh? This ceremony won’t start itself, now will it??” Una and another woman around her age who is very heavily pregnant stands up and follows her. They then come on each side of you and loop their arms around yours and start to drag you out of the tent.

“Wait— you mean this is gonna happen now?!” Muriel interjects with a bit of alert in his voice, you both were not exactly prepared for this to happen right at this very moment.

Una turns to Muriel but keeps tugging you right along out of the large gathering tent. “Why yes, of course!!! The snow should be a-comin’ any day now! And you both said you wanted to head back north unless you plan on staying all winter here!”

“Wait— w-what’s happening now? Una?! What are we doing?” You mutter as you are being let out of the tent. Just as you turn back around to catch a glimpse of Muriel before exiting the tent, he looks a bit confused and rather uncomfortable making you feel concerned for him. “W-waits gonna happen to Muri while I’m getting ready??”

“Oh, don’t you fret ‘bout him, my dear! Gilbert, Shawn, Ronin, and probably Ava will be with him. They will be helping him get ready and keep him company while we get you all prepared.”

“Oh… wait, it’s morning, how long is this gonna take??”

“Well…. we have to bath you, do your hair, then get you dressed— we also need to get you fitted for a headdress and earring—Ohhh!! I’m so very excited! I haven’t seen one of these since I was a young girl! Glenna had a cousin that got married to a newcomer. Those two were so cute together!”

“.... So this is like a wedding?”

The pregnant woman giggles a little and speaks up. “No—Not quite. It’s more like Una said as an adoption into the tribe…. But in a way it's like a marriage to the tribe. Now don’t you fret, Muriel will be by your side. But we’ll be dressing you in traditional Kokhurian clothing during the ceremony.” You aren't sure what to expect at this point, but now that Muriel and you have agreed, there isn't any going back, so you decide to roll with it.

Ida comes running out of the tent with Inanna, both carrying a bucket of water. “Com’on, Nana!! We gotta fill the tub up in the other tent now!”

You can’t believe your ears for a moment and Ida and Inanna run toward the outside of camp. “... Did she say what I think she said?” You quickly open the entrance of the tent and see a wonderful looking sight of an extra large wooden Kokhurian sized tub. You can feel your left eyebrow slightly twitch. “..... You-... You had a tub this entire time, Una?!”

She chuckles a bit standing at your side. “Of course I do! Can’t bathe in ice water during the winter on this tundra, can we??”

For some reason you feel a little irritated at this discovery. “.... So…. your tellin’ me… I could have had an actual bath this entire time down here??” You ask, trying to hide your frustration.

Her arm drapes over your shoulder and she starts to laugh a bit more as you just stare at the tub with a rather disappointing look on your face. “Well—You should have just asked!” You can’t help but just groan semi painfully remembering how you were forced to use a bucket to wash your hair for the past couple of weeks. All you’ve been doing is dream of a nice tub to soak in. “Ha-Ha! Oh you poor sweet thing! Oi!! Don’t just stare at the damn thing! Get yourself undressed and get it!” Una says patting your shoulder as she leaves the divider.

The tub clearly has some years to it, it’s no royal tub like at Nadia’s palace. But it’s large enough to fit even the tallest Kokhurian, and it’s a sight for sore eyes. The water is steaming and you just can’t wait to get into it. You take your clothes and fold them to the side next to the divider and carefully step into the bath. The hot water feels so nice on your cool skin, you can feel your muscles unwind as you soak into it. It’s large enough that you can get your shoulders down into it. A happy sigh escapes your lips as you relax the back of your head on the side. This is so nice…… nothing can ruin my relaxation….

“Hey—” Shona's voice suddenly calls out to you behind the divider, making your eyes fly open and you shudder a bit. “... NewC—I mean, Rhemi?”

You drop yourself into the water and cover your naked body with your arms and legs….. Spoke to fucking soon….. You lift your chin up slightly so you can be heard and shyly answer. “Ye-yeah?”

“It’s me, Shona… do you mind if I come in? I have some flowers and soaps for the bath.”

“Uhhhhh…. oh??” The thought of her coming in actually makes you feel uneasy. You don’t really show your skin off to people normally. Muriel is the only one who has seen you naked… that is that you know about… But Shona did volunteer to help you after all. It may be incredibly rude if you deny her assistance. Besides….flower petals and soap would be nice. “Ummm…. o-ok I guess….. I’m naked though!”

You hear her snort a little. “Yeah I know you are, that's why I’m asking if I can come in.”

You feel a little stupid stating the obvious and you shrunk into your shoulders. “O-okay. Come in.”

She comes through the divider completely unperturbed by your nakedness. She isn’t wearing her long parka for the first time. Instead she’s wearing a pinkish-plum colored wrap around dress, with orange designs and yellow flowers embroidered on the collar. You’ve seen part of it when she pulled one arm out of her sleeve for the archery game, but you didn’t see the full dress until now. Hiding underneath the thick furs, she is rather stout and fit, but not as thick as you had thought, and she has an excellent and elegant figure.

Feeling rather embarrassed, you keep yourself covered tightly as she makes herself busy preparing the flowers amen soaps. She may not be bothered by your nude presents, but you curl into yourself trying to hide your body, hoping she doesn't think any less of you.

As she turns her attention to you noticing your tightly bounded self, she raises an eyebrow as she sprinkles the flower petals into the hot bath water and softly grins. “Please, don’t be shy, it’s just skin… All of Great Mother’s children have it one way or another.” She then sits next to the tub and places the bottles of soap and shampoos to the side on the floor. “... Kokhurians may hide our bodies under thick furs, but we are not afraid of it. Besides, we're both women.” Thhhhaat really doesn’t mean anything… You quietly snort, thinking to yourself, but you feel a little more comfortable and you unravel yourself. I guess it’s fine if she is with it. She sticks her hand into the water to swirl the petals around a bit and immediately pulls it out, her fingers a bit red. “Ssssshit!—Tha an t-uisge seo uamhasach teth!!” Her eyes finally meet yours and she looks very concerned, then realizes that your skin isn’t at all red or burning. She tilts her head and sneers out of habit. “—How… how are you sitting in that?! It’s scalding hot!”

You smile awkwardly and scratch your neck. “Yeah….. I apparently have a high tolerance to heat…. a very high tolerance...”

She flutters her eyes and her sneer falls making her face soften looking impressed. “.... You are just… full of surprises. Huh?” She grins a little more.

“Yeah…. I’m told that a lot…..” You mutter bashfully. A bit of awkward silence takes over the tent while Shona starts to wash your hair. She really is taking her time and carefully washes your locks. Her longer nails feel very relaxing as she exfoliates your scalp and you start to understand why Muriel loves it so much when you do it for him. He even asks if you’d do it for him from time to time, you never mind either.

“Let this set for a few minutes.” Shoa says while getting comfortable sitting next to the tub, her arms draped over the side.

“Oh ok….” You reply with a half forced smile and you both lapse into very uncomfortable silence once again. You kind of want to start a conversation, but you have no idea how to do that with her… You don’t really know anything about her, other than she likes archery, making clothes, and taking care of her younger siblings.

Before you open your mouth attempting to ask a vague question, she surprisingly breaks the silence. “Can I say something without sounding weird?” She utters, finally glancing briefly into yours eyes.

You grin and shrug, relieved she broke the silence instead of you. “Ummm....Yeah, sure.”

Her eyes verse vertically and she stares uncomfortably down at your naked body as she rests her cheek on her knuckles. “... You have really nice boobs.” —HUH- What?!?! You start a bit when she utters that, but she looks like she’s very sincerely complimenting you. “... They’re a lot bigger than I thought they were. And they have a really great shape.” You shrink a bit into the water feeling a bit embarrassed again. “... I… I’m sorry if that was a bit too personal—”

You shake your head and try to relax. “N-..... No… it’s fine— it’s just—Uuuggghhhh. My friend, her name is Portia… She told me that too when we went shopping for swimwear this summer. It’s actually a really nice thing for someone to say…. but It's just very shocking when someone says it outloud… I never had a sister to tell me otherwise… Or at least I don’t think I did…..’”

Shona just snickers a little and leans her head into her arm resting on the side of the tub. “No wonder my cousin is crazy about you…” Her smile then falls and she averts her eyes toward the divider looking a bit ashamed. “..... Well that and you’re…. really patient….. and kind… and…. a better person that I am…”

Your heart drops when she says that, her tone filled with such regret and pain. “You’re not a bad person, Shona… I get why you didn’t like me. I remind you of someone that hurt you and your sister. And then Ava and I were keeping a secret from you…”

“It… It still doesn't excuse myself. You were right, the other day…. you didn’t hurt me or Ava… All you’ve done is help my family...” She pauses for a moment as she starts to rinse your hair with a bucket. “Here, close your eyes.” You do it obediently and she carefully pours the water on her head making your hair cover your eyes. You shake your soppy wet air and push it back out of your eyes. Once all the shampoo is rinsed out, Shona uses her fingers to comb through your hair to make sure there aren't any tangles, “.... It’s strange…. A Traveler took my sister’s voice. But another one gave them another….. For a long time, I thought I was the death of her happiness. But we just were looking at it from the wrong angle.”

“Ya’ know….” You look at her very kindly as she returns to lean on the side of the tub. “... I never hated you for not liking me, Shona… I'm just glad you're actually speaking to me like this.”

She looks away very ashamed grabbing another bottle of nice scented conditioner and starts to pour some in her palm. “I don’t know how or why you’re…. You're so understanding, I would have punched me in the face by now. I was a real bitch to you…”

You shrug a little, thinking it over. In normal circumstances, you would have done just that now that you think about it. But you never did feel hostility when it came to the twins, especially Shona. “....Maybe it’s because I get how you felt….. I mean…. in a way… People can be awful.” Shona stops washing your hair for a moment and just listens to your words. “....I didn’t like textile merchants for a long time… I made my friend buy me new clothes for over a year.”

“What do you mean?....” She mutters.

“... A few years ago, I woke up and didn’t have any memories…. the person I was living with was my only friend and he took care of me. He taught me how to be a normal person again….. but he would always leave town for awhile and I would be sad… really sad…. This one time when he left, for some reason I decided to go to a tavern… it got late, and this…. this guy I met there offered to walk me home.” You stop for a second, fiddling with a flower petal before you start again, Shona listening intently to every word. “.... I’m not proud of it…. but I was lonely and a bit drunk. He kept complimenting me, made me feel like I was wanted…. So… we started to kiss—this is before Muriel and I really knew each other, by the way….” She nods a little and you continue. “—But then he wanted to take it further, and it…. it just didn’t feel right. When I said no, he suddenly became so angry….. he overpowered me and pinned me against my own shop door.”

A look of horror washes over Shona’s face and she nearly stumbles on her words. “.... What did you…how- how did you— what did you do?”

Thinking back, you snort a little and lightly rub your forehead. “I head-butted the shit out of him and somehow broke his nose—hurt like hell too! Then I threatened him with a spell, but it didn’t work. Luckily Muriel was there and… and he saved me. Since I woke up five years ago he had always looked out for me. I just didn’t know it until just over a year ago. Then we got to know each other more… and… well you get the idea….” You feel your cheeks heat up at the thought.

Shona looks down at her dress for a moment, her hands slightly trembling. “How… How are you ok with…. just talking about it like that? Like it was nothing?”

You sink your shoulders into the warm water and fiddle with another flower petal pondering rather hard about it. “I…. I wasn’t. Not for a long time. I tried to forget that day even happened… but then, somehow the jackass wandered in my shop. He didn’t recognize me at first… he was looking for a sleeping potion but I knew he had other intentions…. Muriel was there again. Good thing too. I may have done more than just hurt the bastard.” You look back over to Shona and she’s just trembling all over, looking so terrified for some reason, tightly gripping her dress. Eerily, you know that look on her face. Very slowly you reach out for her shoulder. “... Shona…?” She jumps at your touch, but doesn’t pull away nor is she disgusted with it. “....Those Highwaymen... You said that Ava was protecting you from them?” Shona eyes become watery like a dam about to burst. “They….. did more than beat you up… didn’t they?”

Tears overwhelm her eyes and she can longer hold them back as they roll down her face. “M-Momma and Papa don't even know. Only Ava does…. Please don’t tell any—”

Bursting your top half out of the tub, without thinking you throw your wet arms around her, unable to stop yourself. “.... It wasn’t your fault what they did, Shona.”

She is a bit shocked at the sudden embrace at first, but doesn’t pull away. “Y-Yes it was. I was the one that insisted on going near the Great Gate…. I— I even flirted with that highwayman—the leader! He posed as a merchant when we were trading…. he-... he saw all that we had. That’s why he and his gang raided our tents!! But…. They’re all dead now... Papa and the other fighters killed them. So why does it hurt so much still?”

“It doesn’t just go away, Shona. It fucking sucks what they did! It was wrong! It’s sickening!” A single tear drips down from your cheek.

“Yeah. It.. It does. I fought them off as much as I could but…. They still…” She shakes her head, unable to say it. But she doesn’t have to, you know. If she doesn’t want to talk about the details, she doesn’t have to.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about it? You’re mother especially? How has she not seen it?”

“I… I don’t know… She asked if anything happened… and I denied it—and why would she want to relive that?”

“... Why would you lie?”

She shakes her head a little, seeming unsure herself. “....I dunno….. They-they almost killed Ava. That was enough for my parents to deal with. I didn’t want to make things worse… Maybe… Maybe I thought if I didn’t talk about it… It would just go away. Like it didn’t happen. As if it was just a bad dream. I… I don’t know. It didn’t seem important.”

You hug her even tighter. “...You’re important too, Shona.”

Shona shakes uncontrollably, but she places her hands over your arms, excepting the comforting embrace. “It’s been so long…. it shouldn’t matter anymore.”

“But it bothers you still. Doesn’t it? That should be reason enough to talk to someone...... Get it off your chest. This is too much to beat. Even for you! You are very strong, all of the Kokhuri are… but you don’t have to be alone with this, Shona.”

“.... How do I even ask for help for something that happened years ago? Besides what can talking do?”

“....It's not just the talking, Shona… it's the listening part too….”

Shona leans into your arms and softly weeps, it seems like she needed to talk about this. A few minutes go by and she finally gets a hold of herself, gently pulling away from your arms. “....Thanks for listening, Rhemi…..”

“Any time....” You lean over the edge of the tub and kindly smile, then see her dress is half soaked now. “I’m sorry I got water all over you.”

She wipes her stray tears away with her forearm. “It’s… It’s fine. Th.. thank you… I.... I really don’t deserve you being so nice to me. Especially the way I treated you since we met.”

You smile a little wider, conjure your magic and wave your hand instantly drying her dress. She glances down in astonishment. You can’t help but be empathetic towards her. “... Yes you do. I knew you had a reason. Just because you disliked me didn’t mean I didn't like you. Believe it or not, I’m bad at talking about things that bother me too. So is Muri.”

She snorts a bit, at last giving a small grin again. “Cousin Muriel- I can see, but... you? You seem so open. You bearly know me and you spoke about a horrific thing that happened to you.”

“Yeah. You would think that, huh?... I think I kept a lot of secrets when I was younger. I don’t really know why I know. But I think I remember that I had to hide a lot. Especially the person who I really was…. But with Muriel. I never feel like that. I can alway be myself… I can be honest with him. And he loves me anyway. But sometimes I forget about that. He made me realize that I needed to be more truthful too.”

Shona just gives you a knowing look and smiles a bit wider. “Cousin Muriel is lucky to have someone like you, Rhemi.”

You shift your legs a little to make sure they don’t go to sleep and mirror her smile. “..Ya’ know…. you can call me ‘Rem’ for short if you like. My friends call me that.”

Shona flutters her eyes and makes a very happy sounding huff out of her mouth. “Thanks, Rem.” At last, you can call Shona your friend. It feels good. Like Ava, she seemed to be secretly lonely, even both of their energy seems to be lighter like a huge weight has been lifted.

Shona stifles a soft giggle as you start to shiver because of your cold wet hair. “I think we need to rinse your hair again, you don’t want to catch a cold.”

You tilt your head and gently close your eyes. “That’s actually a myth—”

Suddenly Keavy comes into the divider with something in her hands. “Oi, Shona! Have you seen—” Quickly you sink even deeper into the tub with a surprised squeak and tightly cover your breasts.

“—Keavy!! Privacy! Ever hear of it?!” Shona snaps looking rather grumpy and stirn again.

Poor Keavy shudders and quickly darts back behind the divider. She also doesn’t have her parka on and is wearing a wrap around dress very similar to Shona’s. “—Ooooh! I am so sorry, Rhemi! I didn’t mean too—…. Wait—Shona?! You're her neach-curaim???”

“Y-yes…” Shona‘s cheeks start to heat up very slightly, but as a matter of fact face washes over her. “.... What about it??”

“N—nothing!!! I-I…. just didn’t think… that…… Know what, n-... nevermind. I guess I’ll come back later.”

“I-It’s just you…. right, Keavy??” You whimper.

“Yeah it's just me. I promise! No one else!”

“You can come in then. B-But I’m naked.”

“Yeah…. I got that part.” She softly chuckles as she comes back behind the divider and you feel a little silly at your obvious statement. “I have the clothes you made for her, Shona. Momma just put the final touches on them.”

You whip your head to look at Shona in astonishment. “Y-You made me a parka??”

She shrugs with a hint of blush on her cheeks. “Well, I can't take all the credit. Momma and a few of the other people helped. Great-Auntie Khamagalai taught Momma how to sew very quickly and she taught me the same. And it’s custom that your new family make you a traditional parka, headdress and earrings. Since you're not getting married I’m afraid it’s not as fancy, we didn’t have as much time to prepare anyways. It was a parka I was already working on.” You look back towards Keavy and she gives you a huge smile and opens up the parka. Suddenly you feel breathless at the sight of it. It’s the same one you saw that she was working on the other day when you peeked into Shona’s tent. It’s so beautiful, she even made it short enough for you to wear. Your eyes suddenly get watery and Shona jolts. “—It really was last minute… I’m sorry if its not to your liking—”

“No! That's not it!…. I…. I love it, Shona. It’s— it's perfect.”

Keavy eyes dart between you and Shona, looking very surprised at how you both are getting along all of a sudden, not really sure what to make of it. Shona notices, then glances over to her sister a little irritation fresh on her face. “What??”

Keavy blinks a few times and shakes her head. “N-… nothing…. It's just good to see you…. look like that, Sis.”

Shona blushes a little more and plays with the end of her braid. “Whatever…. you weirdo. So are you gonna help us or just stand there staring??” She mutters as she stands to her feet.

Keavy looks rather surprised. “You…. you want me to…. to help you?”

Shona sighs, sounding a little annoyed to grab a towel passing by her. “Well you might as well make yourself useful…. right?” She utters grumpily flicking Keavy’s forehead at her older sibling-like as she passes by her. “I’ve still gonna get her the dress I had to make the other day and I still need to finish the earrings and the headdress…. Could you help her rinse her hair?”

Keavy is stunned at her sister's actions, but actually doesn't need to mind at all. A large ginger smile washes over her lips “Yeah!—I’ll be happy to help.” She carefully folds the parka back up and places it on a small stool by the dividers and picks up the small bucket and stands knees over where Shona was sitting before. Keavy seems so happy at this moment. Shawn mentioned that Keavy and her were close at one point when they were younger. He also mentioned that she never let anyone help her either when it came to her duties and took on way more than she needed to. Maybe Keavy hasn’t seen this side of her in a long time. It must feel good to be trusted to help.

Keavy helps you rinse your hair out then hold your hands as you step out of the large tub and blankets you with the towel. Once dry, Shona comes back with the dress she was talking about. It’s not a wrap around dress like theirs, she seemed to have taken another dress and sown it together to make it fit you. Her skills just amaze you, she made it look like it was purposely made that way. As you donn it over your head, it fits perfectly, and hangs off of you very well. Shona and Keavy then lead you out of the divider after you're dressed and you sit next to the fire.

“Awwww!! You look nice in mauve.” Keavy says cupping her cheeks in girlish excitement and Una comes into the tent with her newborn tightly in her arms. Una stops for a second as she sees you and a happy smile takes over her lips. “Look Momma! Oooo I am so excited! I haven't been to one of our weddings before!—Well I guess this isn’t really one. But…. it’s close enough for me! I can't wait to see Cousin’s face when he gets a load of you after we get you all ready~.”

Your cheeks light up, feeling so nervous all of a sudden. “You—You think he’ll like me dressed up?”

Una tuts at your statement and kneels down to your level and gently tilts your chin up. “Of course he will!! You are a very gorgeous girl, Rhemi! I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’d bet ya he would think you're beautiful dressed in a potato sack!”

Shona fetches a comb and starts to brush your hair, patting your shoulder comfortingly. “You’re gonna blow his mind.” She adds while Una stands back to her feet, taking the sleeping baby to a small crib to sleep.

“Thanks… Both of you…” You say with a little happy grin.

Suddenly without any warning, Tad comes bursting into the tent, heaving heavily like he ran as fast as he could from the other side of the camp. “RHEMI!!!” He cries out with such urgency in his voice, making everyone in the tent just jump in shock.

“—YES!! What?! What’s goin’ on??? WHERE’S MURIEL?!” You half shout as your heart drops into your stomach fearing the worst.

He suddenly doubles over completely out of breath. “Wha—?..... Oh! He’s—he’s fine.” He utters exhaustively waving his hand. “Ronin,…. Gilbert,...A….Ava and…. Shawn are…. with him… Pffew—”

“Then what is going on? Spit it out, man!!” Una chims in, looking just as shocked and worried.

Tad huffs out his sentence, but only a single word at a time. “Rhemi,.....Can… Can I… Please….. Do… Your…” He takes in a large inhale attempting to slow down his breathing. “....HAIR!!!!!!”

You flutter your eyes and start to relax and slap your forehead with your palm. What the hell Tad…

To be continued…..

Again, I am so sorry this is late. These last few chapters are gonna be hella fluffy. So, be prepared! Hope you all are staying safe and staying healthy! Mother Llama loves you babies! Enjoy my hot trash!!

#the arcana #muriel fanfic #journey back to the south #madllamamomma #ava of the kokhuri #una of the kokhuri #gilbert of the kokhuri #shona of the kokhuri #ida of the kokhuri #muriel of the kokhuri #part 10~#my hot trash #for my hungry trash pandas #eat up my children #sorry its been so long #i am a terrible person

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junie-bugg · 4 years

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The Heartrender - Chapter Three: Flickers

Hello all!

Here’s chapter three of my Everlark fic ‘The Heartrender’, in which I inadvertently utilized the “only one bed trope” 😏💕

You can read here on Tumblr or here on AO3 (I suggest reading on AO3 because I add a poem at the beginning of each chapter that I feel fits nicely with the story.)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content

Relationship: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, witch!Katniss, witch-hunter!Peeta, AU - Shipwrecked, AU - Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Furs and Fires, Angst and Fluff and Smut, sexually experienced Katniss, virgin Peeta, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Loss of Virginity, Laughter During Sex, Blood and Injury, Imprisonment, Peeta has some prejudices to work out, Peeta also has an accent, Inspired by Six of Crows

Summary:

He hated her. He hated her for what she was: an abomination, a demon sent to tear at the fabric of the natural world. He hated her for making him want to laugh. He hated her for being so brazen and sensuous and everything the women of his country were never allowed to be. But mostly he hated her because he realized he didn’t hate her. Not even a little bit.

After a shipwreck has left an abducted witch and a member of the ominous Order bent on wiping out her kind stranded on the icy shores of an uninhabited land, the two must work together to survive or face tearing each other apart in the process.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Chapter Three: Flickers

Night had fallen, and with it, the temperature. Peeta allowed the witch to hold his arm so she could keep his blood warm. When she retracted her hand every once in a while to readjust the pelt around her shoulders, his jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t miss her touch.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” she asked.

“Near the northern border of the Permafrost. Though I don’t know how far from the capital we were before the ship sank.”

“We’re walking to Fjordhingă then?”

“Yes,” he replied. Fjordhingă was the trading capital of the north. It was to be the last stopping point of The Bloody Rose’s voyage before they headed west to Sjorkden. If he and the witch could make it there by foot, perhaps Peeta could talk their way onto a ship. But how would he get the witch on board? What if she ran away? The thought had been nagging him like a fly on his brow.

Even with the witch there to keep his blood pumping, he felt his limbs freezing up as the temperature continued dropping. He desperately scanned the darkening horizon, hoping to find an outcropping of rocks they could huddle under, or maybe another whaling camp. Instead, he spotted a gabled roof.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed and started tugging the witch along.

“Lieutenant…” she said apprehensively.

It wasn’t just some stray shack. It was a fishing village, with squat houses and a trading outpost, all perched on the cliffside and overlooking the ocean. One circular dirt road cleared of rock and vegetation lay at its center and clusters of small stone buildings had been constructed around it. The houses had wavy glass panes in the windows and soot-blackened chimneys, though no light shone onto the street and no smoke rose into the sky.

An abandoned village then.

Even better.

Peeta hastened his pace.

“Lieutenant, stop!” the witch yelled, tugging him back behind the village’s low border wall. “Look at the flagpole!”

Peeta’s heart sank when he saw an ominous black flag waving high above the rooftops.

Black was for plague. No wonder the place seemed abandoned.

Everyone had died.

He thought they were going to move on, but the witch set her shoulders back. Her face took on a quiet focus.

“We need to be careful. We can’t just barge in. There may be corpses.” She dropped his arm and moved around him. He watched her walk to the door of the closest house and lay a palm to its wind-weathered surface before he could stop her.

He sucked in a breath.

She was too close.

“Don’t!” he barked and pulled her away.

She whipped her head around, a scowl pulling her brows together. “You’d rather we die of plague then allow me to use my god-given powers?”

“Don’t drag god into this.”

“Oh don’t worry. I doubt we have the same one,” she retorted. “Now get out of my way.”

He didn’t want her touching that door, but he knew what she was doing. He’d read about the practice of purification in class, but he hadn’t imagined it would smell so good.

Pure white light emanated from within the building, flooding out in bright streams from the windows, the minuscule cracks in the stone walls, the deep hollow of the chimney. Long shadows crept along the ground, shifting in oblong patterns as the light in the house moved. The witch’s hair and clothing snapped in some enchanted breeze, pulling ebony locks and fur upwards in a cascading arc until the light faded and gravity pulled her hair back down in a glossy curtain.

The air tingled with the sharp scent of mint.

“I thought you could only manipulate bodies,” Peeta got out.

“I can do a great many things you wouldn’t understand, lieutenant.”

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered. Lieutenant was his title from the Order. It felt wrong to hear her speak it here.

“Would you rather I call you by your name?” she asked.

Peeta didn’t respond.

“Didn’t think so.” She turned the brass knob and the door swung in on itself. “Welcome home, lieutenant.”

By noon the next day, she had purified the entire village.

It was a spell, an easy one, that burned away rot and disease. Each time she pressed a hand to a doorway, the windows filled with that bright celestial light, her hair rose above her head as a flame rises above a candlewick, and she burned away any trace of plague inside. Scraps of cloth that had been coughed into, drops of dried blood on the floor, corpses that had been left behind. Each house was spotless when she was done.

They had slept in the house farthest from the others, on the far side of the village. It was small, with only a kitchen, sitting area, and one bedroom. There was a sizable stone hearth in the kitchen, plenty of split logs in a wicker basket by the back door, even some strips of salted caribou meat in the pantry. First, they had scarfed down the meat, and only after, with the salted flesh chewed and swallowed, did they think of their thirst. Peeta made a fire while the witch lugged a burnished pot outside to gather snow. They drank the warm melted water and then collapsed into bed with their clothes still on.

It was a real bed, with a canopied frame and pillows and soft, quilted blankets. Peeta was too tired to object when the witch curled in against his chest, and once more he spent the night with his nose buried deep in her hair.

As exhausted as he was, Peeta was a soldier. He woke early, as he always did, and found that he couldn’t fall back asleep. The pale morning light of dawn bled through the curtains. Anyone else would have rolled over and tried to catch a few more hours of shut-eye, but Peeta couldn’t. The witch’s heat against his chest was too much, like a beating, throbbing wound that refused to heal. He untangled his arm from around her and then hurried to the door, grabbing a spear in the pretense of hunting.

Winter burned his nostrils as he took in deep lungfuls of air. He was a boy raised in the fjords of southern Sjorkden, and a man of the northern academy. He’d thought he’d seen the bitterest winters the world had to offer when ice would form between the stones of his tower dormitory and he and Yasser would have to sleep on the floor by the black iron furnace for warmth. They would go to breakfast with blue nail beds and teeth that chattered so violently sometimes it was hard to chew. But he realized those nights were nothing compared to this, a winter’s chill so sharp that it cut out a spot for you into the very landscape, made you feel as if your skin was crafted of snow, your bones pressed from ice.

He secured the fur around his shoulders and tried to replace thoughts of piercing silver eyes with thoughts of breakfast.

But the winds of the north were unforgiving, and the frigid bite of the air only reminded Peeta of how warm he had been with the witch. By the time he had finished hunting, having speared only one measly hare, his limbs were frozen, joints locked as if welded, lips numb under his teeth as he tried to bite the life back into them.

He found himself anticipating coming back to the village, wanting what he so desperately fled only hours before; to tangle in bed with the witch once more, a merry fire crackling in the hearth, the warm press of her body cradled against his own, his nose buried in the hollow beneath her ear, soaking up the heady scents of jasmine and fresh rain and sunlight until he was drunk on her.

His thoughts were peaceful until he remembered the sin of what he had been considering.

Laying with the witch was practical. The use of her magic against the cold was necessary. There was nothing charming or romantic about having to rely on an enemy for survival. He should despise his needing her.

She wasn’t human. She was dangerous.

It was foolish to forget that.

Yasser collapsed into the seat across from Peeta, his dinner tray laden with a bowl of brown grits, boiled sausages, some mushy looking turnips, and a small cup of water.

“Did you hear what happened to Larone?” he asked, his urgent tone cutting under the loud din of the dining compartment.

“No,” Peeta replied, unsure if he wanted news of how Wilhelm was handling his first witcher voyage. The antics of newbies were fun to hear about at the start, but when tales of seasickness and fatigue reached the ears of experienced witchers, especially witchers on the cusp of earning their freedom, the stories were more annoying than entertaining.

Yasser greedily stuffed a spoonful of grits into his mouth and swallowed before continuing. “Well, I’m telling you anyway. If I have to know, you have to know.”

“Can I finish eating first?”

“No. Now eat your sausages, growing boy!” Yasser mimicked the garbled, high-pitched accent of one of the servants from the academy, Mrs. Jengon, who had doled out food in the great hall. Each and every student was a “growing boy” in her eyes. Even the ones who had finished their battle with puberty.

Peeta frowned and took a tentative bite of sausage.

“Alright, I’m going to try and say this with as much grace as possible,” Yasser said solemnly but then burst into peals of laughter, slamming a fist against the table so forcefully the plates rattled. “Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t think I can. Larone gave the Heartrender a little too much to chew if you know what I’m saying.”

Peeta stilled. “He didn’t.”

Yasser cocked a thick eyebrow, his mouth crinkling around the corners. With his flaming red hair and bright green eyes gleaming under the oil lamps he looked like some kind of buff leprechaun. “He did. And now half his pisser is being packed in ice.”

Peeta’s stomach rolled, his body instinctually clenching in phantom pain as he imagined it. He set down his fork with the sausage impaled on the end and pushed the plate away.

“God…”

“But don’t tell anyone I told you,” Yasser added. “The commander wants to keep it under wraps. Doesn’t shine very well on him, does it? If his recruits are dumb enough to stick their cocks between witch jaws?”

Peeta didn’t tell a soul but the news still spread through the ranks like a wildfire during drought season. Yasser updated him at breakfast. Larone was in the infirmary being tended to by Dutch, the crew’s one doctor, and wouldn’t be out of recovery until the ship reached Sjorkden. Peeta felt bad for the boy, but it was his own foolishness that had gotten him into trouble, and now he’d never bed a wife or sire heirs. Larone’s power crawl was over before it had even really started.

Peeta relieved Hans Gerholt from guarding duty that night, disgusted when he saw no one had bothered to clean the Heartrender up. Larone’s blood had splattered her face, dried, and then cracked. She looked absolutely monstrous with a red dipped chin.

“You here for a good time too?” she said, picking up on Peeta’s discomfort. He didn’t respond, just sat down stiffly in the guard’s chair and listened to the creaking of the boat, the squeaking of rats in the walls, the soft clinking of the witch’s chains when she shifted across the cell floor. “Your little friend showed me his even littler friend. I barely bit him and it was half off.”

“Stop talking,” Peeta growled, angry at himself that he had risen to her bait. He knew she just wanted to get a rise out of him. The weeping girl was gone, replaced with one who had accepted she had nothing to lose.

“Now your commander…” she drawled, eyes flashing in the partial darkness. “His would have taken more gnawing.”

Peeta didn’t much care for the commander. He was old and cruel, but it was the principal of honor and his loyalties to the Order that made him rise so sharply from his chair that it tipped over. He lunged at her through the bars, pulling her up against the cold metal by her collar. “Hold your tongue, witch, or I’ll cut it out.”

She tsked quietly, hanging limply in his grip. “Did your commander ever tell you where he found me?” She saw the confusion in his eyes and clung to it. “Of course he didn’t. No pious soldier of Sjorkden would ever reveal he had been cavorting in a pleasure house.”

“You’re a whore,” Peeta whispered, almost disbelievingly, the pieces clicking into place. He released her and she fell to the ground in a weakened heap.

On the surface, she looked the same. Wrinkled red dress, oily black hair, sunken cheeks. But now there was something alight inside of her. Heat smoldered like molten silver in her eyes.

“You and your kind have called me many things, lieutenant. Witch. Slum scum. Unholy daughter of Krell. But I’m afraid ‘whore’ is where I draw the line. I did not choose that life, it was thrust upon me, and here I am now. Free of it.”

Peeta looked down at her. He thought the commander had put her in those iron hand caps to keep her from unleashing her powers. She could not kill if she could not curl her fingers. But now he suspected they had come from her time in Ellsworth. How long had she been wearing them? From the rust on the padlocks, he suspected a long time. “How ironic that you speak of freedom while you lounge in chains.”

“Freedom is a fickle thing, lieutenant. I may be stuck here in this cage, but I suspect you carry one wherever you go.”

Peeta’s nostrils flared. That familiar rush of rage he experienced during combat surged through his limbs, but with nowhere to go, his head soon swam with it. “Do not pretend to know me. You’re repulsive. A perversion against nature.”

“I am nature. You are just too brainwashed to see it.”

“Nature does not defile the earth. Or slaughter the innocent by the thousands.”

“My people have committed no such crimes. We were healers before you forced our hands to bloodshed. I suggest you try looking upon yourselves before you go blindly doling out sentences.”

Peeta was at a loss for words. The nerve of this girl, injuring Larone and then preaching about who the real enemy was. Coaxing out his anger and frustration when he was normally so good at hiding it. Ever since he ran away from home, he had learned the hard way that emotion in the face of an enemy was weakness. He could not afford to let her under his skin, no matter how hard she clawed away at him. He was ashamed to admit it, but he had found himself thinking about her on nights when he wasn’t on guard duty.

That stopped now.

“Rot in hell,” he spat as he righted his chair.

“You will,” she growled.

The witch burned the red dress in the kitchen fireplace. The fabric steamed and curled into blackened strips, sending dark plumes of smoke up the chimney like released ghouls. Peeta didn’t have to ask her why she did it. He knew she burned the dress to try and burn away the memories of her capture, and perhaps the memories that came before. If he thought about it, the dress must have been from her time in Ellsworth. He could only imagine how a girl of her beauty would fare in the clutches of a pleasure house, the horrors unleashed upon her when the rights to her body were not her own. He wondered how she could even bear touching him.

A man.

A stranger.

If burning the dress had worked, he couldn’t tell. She came to bed in a fur-lined nightgown and quietly rested her cheek on his breastbone. His cheeks burned, shame lacing itself into his stomach lining when he didn’t push her away.

“I’ve never heard a heart song so gentle,” she murmured admiringly. She sounded surprised.

Peeta’s chest ached. He was suddenly self-conscious of how fast he was breathing and in his fight to slow down, hadn’t asked her what she meant.

They raided each house one by one. The people of the village were either dead or had moved on when the plague hit. They left behind dressers full of clothing, shoes, pots and pans, utensils, pottery, carving knives, firewood, axes, the occasional sword, hunting supplies, wax candles, furniture, toys, paintings, family heirlooms. All the trappings of domesticity.

The pair took a pan here and a pair of shoes there. Peeta had found two large packs with which to stuff items in. His pack would contain a small assortment of kitchenware, food, some firewood, and the water sacks. She would carry extra clothing and furs. They planned on spending a couple of nights in the village before restarting their journey north to Fjordhingă.

In the days they spent stocking up on provisions, the witch took over hunting duty. She didn’t hunt with spear or snare as Peeta had learned. She used her powers to crush windpipes and burst hearts. Wild dogs stopped dead in their tracks, keening over like sacks of potatoes. Birds plummeted from the sky, cold before they hit the ground. He enjoyed the bounty, feasting on a new roast every night and salting the leftovers, but with every meal, he grew warier. He had heard the stories of course, of the deathly potential that Heartrenders possessed, but seeing her in action was completely different from hearing some old tale around a campfire. Just how powerful was she? And when she determined he was no longer useful as a means of body heat or when their little truce no longer suited her, how easy would it be to kill him? A curl of her fingers or a flick of her wrist and he’d be dead.

Maybe he’d made a mistake by letting her live.

Every night when he watched her sleep, the voices of the masters pressed into his head, willing his fingers to close around her throat, to witness the light drain from her bulging, terror-filled eyes and have her know that he had bested her.

Him. The seed of a pathetic, weak-willed baker. Wielder of no arcane power and with no legacy to help carve the way. Just him and his own two hands against the world. As it had always been.

But no matter what his common sense was telling him, of how dangerous he knew her kind to be, he couldn’t do it. He would reach for her neck and then freeze, afraid to go any further. If she didn’t stir he’d stay his hand, running feather-light fingers across her pulse point, quietly admiring the way her angled features softened in sleep. But if her eyelids fluttered or her breathing changed he would retreat as if she had burned him.

“Where were you sired?” Peeta asked one night as they ate a bird the witch had caught. The bones were small and Peeta had to be careful not to break them with his teeth. He gnawed on a piece of cartilage as he waited for her reply.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean-” Krellian was not Peeta’s first language. He had picked it up between his boyhood and his blood christening into the Order, but he had limited knowledge of words. He learned Krellian and Narubi and Hannako from old, leather-bound textbooks and even older professors. For years he had studied all the archaic tongues they hoped he would someday snuff out, but he did not know slang or turn of phrase, and his accent was rounded in his mouth compared to the crisp consonants of a native Krellian speaker.

She spoke as if she were tiptoeing through a flower field.

He spoke as if he were crashing through it.

“Where did you… grow?”

“Grow up?”

Grow up. Peeta slotted the term into his memory for future use. “Yes. Where in Krell did you grow up?”

The witch narrowed her eyes, those silvery irises glowing like moonlight from behind a cloud’s ragged border. “Why? Are you planning your next raid?”

“No, I-” He ducked his head, his cheeks burning furiously. “I’m just curious.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I won’t tell you, lieutenant,” she snarled. She threw down her uneaten bird’s wing, splattering congealed blood everywhere. “Besides, you don’t deserve to know.” Her anger was eager, ready to be unleashed upon him even in quiet, semi-companionable moments such as mealtime. She confused him. Why was she flirty and seductive when they lay in bed together but bitter and closed off when he tried having a casual conversation?

Although to be fair, he hadn’t been very open with her either. And not particularly kind.

“It was just a question.”

“A dangerous one. Go ahead and ask another. See if I’ll talk.” Her eyes glittered as if they were playing a game she knew she would win.

Just another thing he didn’t like about the witch. How ashamed he felt when talking to her. Minor slip-ups, cracks in his armor of indifference. She had a talent for coaxing them out of him as if she were pulling secrets from a drunk man.

But he was in too deep now. Might as well try to get something out of her.

He lowered his gaze to the fire and asked, “Then what’s your favorite color?”

The witch blinked. She hadn’t been expecting such a mundane inquiry. She was silent for a moment, probably contemplating if giving away this piece of information would in any way compromise her. She decided a favorite color was harmless.

“Green.”

He pictured it. The verdant green of a forest. Lush and deep and full of secrets.

Just like her.

“Mine is orange,” he offered. “Soft. Like a sunset.”

She cocked a dark brow. “Not red for the blood of your enemies?”

Peeta raised the drumstick back up to his mouth, suppressing a smile. “That comes in a close second.”

She had laughed then, a sound so joyful and clear that Peeta’s heart clenched and he stopped chewing just to hear her better.

She awoke screaming one night, flailing about under the sheets and shoving him away as if he were stabbing her. He had been awake when it started, unable to quiet a storm of racing thoughts. If he hadn’t been so alert, perhaps he wouldn’t have sprung to her aid so quickly.

“What is it?” he demanded, suspecting there was something biting her under the covers. He threw the blankets back, but there was nothing. “Huh?” he asked when he couldn’t make out her quaking mumbles.

“Just a dream, it was just a dream,” she whispered to herself, and then she dissolved into tears. Her face glistened wetly in the moonlight and she shrank away when he reached to pull the covers back over her.

The next night, he took some furs and slept by the fire in the kitchen, afraid she wouldn’t want him in bed with her. But when he was about to doze off, she padded through the doorway.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Sleeping.”

“On the floor?”

“But… you… last night… ” he stammered.

Her face hardened as she crossed her arms self-consciously. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’d feel better if you stayed in the room with me.”

“You kicked me,” he argued.

“Not on purpose,” she hissed.

The two glared at each other, and then the tension broke. The witch softened, her shoulders sagging like a loose bowstring. “Please.”

He should have told her no. Instead, he said: “Alright.”

She dreamed of clients. Harsh hands and sour breath. Shackles looped around a bed frame.

He wasn’t allowed to touch her after those dreams. Not for a long while at least, and when they would eventually come together again, he let her choose when to climb back into his arms.

“What makes me different?” he asked quietly one night as she clutched his shirt, her tears drying over his heart.

She raised her head to meet his eyes. “Can you feel your own heartbeat?”

He could if he focused. If he held his breath and silenced his thoughts. He nodded.

She sounded sad, as if she were quoting somebody when she said, “If you listen close enough, you can hear that all heartbeats are different.”

It sounded like Krellian nonsense. Heartbeats sounded like heartbeats, but it was out before he thought to stop himself. “What is mine like?”

She laid her head back down and inhaled slowly through her nose, listening. “It’s gentle and steady. Like the lapping of the ocean. Ever present and soothing. I’ve never heard one quite like it.” She inhaled again, steeling herself. “It makes me feel safe. Which is ironic because it belongs to you.”

He smiled but she couldn’t see it. Then he asked, “And what does yours sound like?”

There was a long pause and then she said, “You can listen if you want.” She sat up in bed, pulling him along with her, and with gentle hands twined through his hair, tipped his ear to her breast.

It was hard to concentrate. The heels of her hand on his cheeks and her fingers laced across his scalp made him feel as if she were touching him everywhere. But then he forced himself to lean into her chest, the shell of his ear pressing against her sternum, searching for the sounds of her very being.

At first, he heard nothing, just felt the rise and fall of her breaths, but then, as if cotton had been removed from his ears, he heard the heavy beat of life. The first thud was loud like a cannon shot, but the second was quiet, like the dull closing of a door. Her heart sounded like it was limping on stilts. Hobbling along unevenly. Long step, short step. Over and over. Cautious. Afraid. So unlike the girl he’d come to know. But it was all there, hidden away deep inside of her.

“See?” she whispered. “We’re different.”

But they weren’t. Not really.

When she fell asleep and Peeta remained awake, he tried reaching within himself to feel his own heart again. It was like the constant beating of waves as she said, but he didn’t find it soothing. Every beat felt achingly blunt, as if his heart was slowly ripping itself apart to make more room.

It terrified him that he didn’t know what that meant.

On the morning of their departure, he rose, dressed in a black tunic and pants, clasped a heavy fur cloak around his shoulders, and then sheathed a sword at his hip. He stepped outside to swing it around, getting the feel for its weight.

The sword was heavy, made of polished steel that glinted in the cloudy morning light. Compared to the swords he had grown up with, the blade was plain. There were no holy etchings in its metal face, no onyx embedded into the hilt, and no divine blessings had been uttered over it, but he felt a fierce rush of strength all the same. Peeta was used to heavy swords and the leather-wrapped pommel felt right in his hands, as if he’d been missing a part of himself without a weapon.

“Is that really necessary?” the witch asked, her voice carrying from inside the house and over the frostbitten yard. When he laid eyes on her, a hot jolt flooded his body as if he’d just caught himself from falling off a roof.

She leaned against the doorframe, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, but he could tell from the way she warily focused on the blade that she was on high alert. A caribou hide nightdress brushed the tops of her dusky knees and her hair was loose and mussed on one side. The side she had pressed against his body in the night, Peeta realized.

“What else would you have me use?” Peeta asked darkly, unsure why the witch got to use her powers whenever she wanted, but when it came to Peeta’s talents they were disapproved of.

“You have a Heartrender with you,” she said arrogantly, pointing at herself. “You’re just going to be lugging around a sword for show and no offense but I’d rather you carry extra food.”

“It’s not for show. This sword is to protect myself against you,” he said angrily, pointing the blade in her direction.

She took a hurried step back as if she expected him to advance. There was a heavy, quiet moment as Peeta watched her from behind the sword’s edge.

And then she sharply twisted her wrist.

Peeta’s heart rate skyrocketed.

Her voice was low, dangerous as she said: “I don’t know what your superiors told you, but a sword is no match for a Heartrender.” She began squeezing her fingers together and Peeta’s heart stuttered, his chest clenching painfully as if he were having a heart attack. Stabbing heat pulsing through every vein in his body as if his blood had turned to molten lava. He fell to his knees, dropping the sword into the hard-packed dirt with a hollow clang.

“Stop,” he begged, clutching at his chest. His breaths came in ragged pants. He was falling apart under the pressure. “Please.”

She tensed her hand, unsure whether or not to let up. Her eyes were frightened, but there was resolve there too, as if she had imagined this situation before and had already decided the outcome. This was her chance. She had a pack full of food and supplies. She had her enemy in her clutches. She was going to do it. He was going to die, right here, in an abandoned village where no one would think to come looking for him. Where no one would know his name. All who wandered would stay away from the black flag, and he’d be the feast for wild animals and the decay of time.

He should have killed her when he had the chance but he had been weak and now his chances were spent.

She squeezed tighter, her fingertips almost touching her palm. And then all of a sudden, her face crumpled. With a strangled gasp of breath, she released him. He fell to the ground in a quivering heap as his heart rate plummeted and then righted itself.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, trying to stem the flow of tears with her hands. She disappeared back inside the house and Peeta was left to stare shamefully at his own tears pooling in the dirt.

#The Heartrender #everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #witch!Katniss #witch-hunter!Peeta #enemies to lovers #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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cherryblossom-chopper · 4 years

Note

Oh!! Requests? Requests!!!! How bout this? Strawhat crews reaction to their crush/so giving them flowers for no reason. Just thought they were pretty or they reminded them of the Strawhat in question. Fluff it up buttercup 😘 thnks ♥️u

Aw, anything for you sugar bean

Luffy

- “I am confusion”

- Flowers aren’t really his thing honestly, like... he can’t eat them or fight them, but he appreciates the sentiment behind the flowers

- Even if he doesn’t get why (Name) is giving him flowers anyways.

- Something cute I like to imagine is that even though Luffy doesn’t really like flowers he tries really hard to keep the flowers alive

- But Lu doesn’t have a green thumb, so when they eventually die, Luffy is devastated

- This dork associates the flowers with the love his S/O has for him so he needs a bit of reassurance that he is still loved, by the means of snuggles and kisses

Zoro

- Zoro is so flustered by the flowers because that’s not something he’s use to

- He’ll reluctantly takes the flowers, saying a brief thank you, all while trying not to stutter or blush too hard

- Spoiler alert he’s blushing so hard

- Zoro doesn’t know how to keep flowers alive so he takes the flowers and starts leaving them places for his partner to find

- He thinks of it as slowly but surely showing his love back

- He does hold onto one of the flowers though, sort of as a lucky flower

Nami

- Typically Nami likes to get expensive items as gifts or sometimes just straight money

- So when her partner walks up with a bouquet of flowers, she’s kind of confused because that’s not exactly something she likes, but she melts when they say, “I saw these and they reminded me of you.”

- Nami really appreciates the flowers so she does out and buys a fancy vase to display them in

- (Name) get lots of kisses in return for the flowers

Usopp

-Aw my baby boy, I love Usopp holy hell

-He’s so happy and he’s blushing and he’s just so flustered ohmygod was

- Usopp freaking loves plants so a bouquet of flowers is going to make is heart pound so heart

-He’s 100% going to replant them and try to grow them into long lasting flowers cause HECK HE LOVES HIS S/O AND THE FLOWERS

Sanji

-Sanji is a puddle on the floor ohmy

-His eyes are obviously heart shaped because his partner looks so freaking cute standing there shyly with those flowers

-He cries like a little and accepts the flowers, but he does take one and tuck it behind his partners ear

- “They’re too perfect to just be with me. They match your eyes better than mine.”

- He goes out the next day and buys as many flowers as he possibly can until the ship is just full of flowers for (Name)

Chopper

-Ugh Chopper is just so cute!

-He’s so happy for the gift and his partner just makes his heart swell up so much

- Chopper possibly eats the flowers?

-I tried to research to see if Caribou/reindeer could consume certain flowers but it didn’t say they typically eat any flowers regularly

-AnYWaY this is a fantasy world so Chopper not only gets cute little flowers to snack on but also snuggles with his S/O and little Eskimo kisses

Robin

-Aw Robin blushes a little and tilts her head with a smile

-She loves flowers a lot actually, she thinks they’re so beautiful but is fascinated by their fragile nature

- Robin will instantly take a few flowers and weave them into some kind of flower crown if she can

-She’ll put the crown on her partners head because (Name) will get flustered and they’re just too freaking cute

-Robin saves the rest though and she keeps them in the room in a simple vase

Franky

-So… this man is real bad at keeping plants alive

-He mostly just forgets to water them and then they die

-When (Name) brings him these flowers Franky is touched but he’s anxious because he really wants these flowers to live

-So his takes the flowers, hugs and kisses (Name) all over, before disappearing into his lab

-He spends forever in there but eventually he returns with a prototype invention that he wants to show (Name).

- He’s got at least one of the flowers sealed in glass casing where he’s basically freeze dried the flower

- I’m trying to keep our love blooming forever.

Brook

-He would blush and grin but he doesn’t have any skin, or lips for that matter.

-He loves feeling loved, ya know?

-Brook fashions a few flowers into his outfit and make it a part of daily accessories

-With the remaining flowers he decides to press and dry them into a scrapbook

-I’ve just now decided that Brook loves scrap scrapbooking

Carrot

-She’s so EXCITED

-Cause no one's ever bought expensive flowers for her

-So um she totally tries to eat them cause that’s just all she knows?

-Minks don’t buy flowers as gifts to look at, Minks buy flowers as yummy little treats

- When flower bites in the first flower petals he S/O is shocked but after some explaining her partner figures out she thinks they’re yummy

Jimbe

-Good ole fish boy just smiles at the simple gift

-He loves gifts that are simple and also meaningful so when his partner brings him a bouquet of flowers he can only say:

-I’m not pretty enough for these, but you are my love.

-Jimbe will kiss them on the forehead and accepts the flowers with a great big grin

-Flowers aren’t easy to get down in depths, so getting flowers as a gift are very rare for him

-Happy fish

#one piece #jimbe #carrot #brook #luffy #chopper #zoro #sanji #usopp #anime #nami #robin #franky #fan art #one piece head canons #head canons #one piece fluff

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r-ate-9 · 3 years

Text

Three Can Keep a Secret (if two of them are dead) - Ch. 2

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Chapter 2 of 2 Characters: Connor, Cole, minor-OC's Warnings: Ref-rape (non-explicit), Drug abuse, homelessness. Summary: During a home-invasion gone wrong, Connor tries to protect his brothers using the gun his father keeps locked away. Disaster strikes and Connor runs away... Read on AO3 | Fanfiction.net

“Missing Person!” The signs yelled at Connor as he walked through the streets. “Inform local Police if you see him!” They pled. The face stared imploringly at Connor – he turned away. Not his problem, he had stopped drugs ages ago, what happened in that realm was not his concern, dammit.

Hey Connor, the boy said slipping him a baggy, see you later. A crooked smile tinged in sadness. A cracked interior so like Connor’s own.

“Missing Person!” Another sign blared in Connor’s ears, begged for help. “Please call with information!”

Thanks, champ. The boy took a drag of the cigarette and closed his eyes.

“Anytime.” Connor whispered to the poster; eyes locked with the face pictured. The boy was less broken here, a sparkle glittered his eyes, cheeks flushed from laughter or cold or pure joy – Connor liked to think all three.

He imagined.

A day in the snow, with forts towering high and laughter dancing on the breeze.

Three boys darting from cover to cover, no sides chosen, a free-for-all.

Calling each other’s names and bursting with happiness.

Going inside with cheeks nipped by frost and chattering to their parents a million thoughts.

Hot cocoa and marshmallows.

Yes. Connor liked to think the boy was happy in this picture. His inside warm and full of cocoa and happy thoughts.

“Please call!” The writing begged; numbers listed with points of contact. The name and description of the boy, his age.

Thanks, champ. The boy whispered, words tinged in sadness but eyes soft and open.

“Okay.” Connor said. He rubbed his arms. “Okay, Cole.”

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Connor returned to the alley he first met Cole. He didn’t think to find much, but he knew more than the cops did. Cole sold here; Cole spent enough time here to leave his imprint. Connor could see it in the cracks of the walls, could smell it in the air.

There was no trash here. There were no roaches to scitter underfoot, or startling stains in jagged shadows. Cole was soft and new and broken. But Cole was not of Connor’s kind. They – Greg and Dan and Connor – hadn’t thought he would last, too naïve for their world.

Dan. Connor needed to find Dan. He knew he’d gone underground since Greg overdosed after rehab. But Dan was a rat and he left a trail – Connor could find him. Then from there, Connor didn’t know, but he had to keep going.

Don’t stop running. Why why whywhy Connor why did you run? Hands clutched his coat tight.

He had to keep going. Connor didn’t look down.

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Dan was easy to spot in the room. Connor knew how to find him.

In a hole-in-the-wall bar in the dirtier streets of Detroit, Connor found his old druggie buddy snorting a line off the counter. Dan looked about the same as he had three years ago. More wraithlike. His eyes were hollowed out and glassy. His bones were brittle and nearly pierced his paper-y skin.

Connor slid onto the stool beside him and gestured for a drink. He rested his chin on his fist and studied the next line Dan was setting up. “Got a light?” He asked.

Dan wobbled and turned to face him. He squinted his eyes. “Connor? Yeah, man that is you!” He slapped Connor on the shoulder. “Fuck. It’s been a fucking hot minute, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah man. How’s dealin’ going for you?” Connor replied, thinking back to what he last remembered had changed.

“Fucking-a.” Dan replied. He crouched over the counter and inhaled. “Business is booming right now. ‘pparantly the last exam at the college wiped its ass with half the student body. They’re fucking lining up right now for a hit.”

“Good. Good.” Connor couldn’t hold Dan’s self-destructive against him. He’d been there right alongside him, after all. It was almost surreal, catching up like this. If he really focused on the drugs and let himself linger, he could imagine Greg was seated in the chair beside Dan, cursing about tests. He could ignore the flicker by the lamps and the why why Connor why that followed him everywhere.

“So, what’s got you hanging out with me, anyway, man?” Dan asked, rolling his shoulders and sighing at a satisfying crick. “I’d be happy to give you a freebie, but you’re free and I’ve seen you out there in the workforce.”

“Yeah. No.” Connor smiled sadly at Dan. “If I wasn’t worried ‘bout completely fucking myself in the ass again, I’d take you up on that. Nah.” He continued, thinking of soft brown eyes and a cracked smile. “You remember Cole?”

“The kid with the cheap shit? Yeah, I heard he up and vanished. What about him?”

Connor picked at his fingernails, wincing at the feeling of stickiness. “I- I saw something.”

Dan placed his hand on Connor’s, halted his nervousness and forced their eyes to meet. “Fuck Connor. What?”

“I saw-” He thought, eyes wound shut.

Glass shattering. The bags falling and groceries scattering across the sidewalk. A figure passing the stoop, pushing another along “Keep your head down and keep walking.”

“N-no!” A cracked whimper.

Groceries spilled and liquid leaking across the pavement.

Red seeping into cracks.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers.

“Do what I say.” Dark, cold steel; hands raising high and clutching

sticky hair and sticky hands and burning knees from

“O-okay-y. I-I will j-just don’t…” A wet smack. A gasp for air. A moan.

“I saw his kidnapping. I saw him get- he got- fuck Dan.” Connor buried his sticky hands and sticky fingers hands in his hair and tugged. “I saw.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit.” Dan rubbed Connor’s arms. “Okay, fucking obviously, you can’t go to the cops. But he was just a kid and we’re just kids, Con.”

“Yes.” Connor agreed. “But he wasn’t one of ours. He was- he was alone Dan. I saw him, Dan. I saw. I can’t go to the cops, but I know what happened.”

“Yeah Con, you and your fucking bleeding heart.” Dan smacked the table, gestured for another round. “Okay man. I know what you’re gonna say – we gotta find the brat. He sold good shit, kept us out of the ditches for months until I figured out the business. He fucking saved our asses. You resold his shit and got yourself out of this fucking hole. Yeah, we fucking owe him.” Dan shoved Connor’s glass before him and downed his own. “Drink the liquid courage. Wish you’d snort the line, but I know you better. We’ve gotta go deep to find him.”

Connor raked his nails through his hair and relaxed his posture. He downed both the glass he’d ordered, and the one Dan got him. “Okay, Dan. I was hoping you’d help.”

“Yeah. Cheers, man.”

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Looking for Cole was hard, to say the least. With enough cash, Connor knew he could find just about anything talking to the right people. But Connor was low on money. He was always low on money. A few months ago, he’d scraped enough together to buy a new blanket and backpack. He paid for a postal box every month, so his job had somewhere to write in as a place of residence. Aside from that, Connor needed to eat.

But Connor couldn’t ignore Cole. He didn’t know jack shit about his old dealer other than his dad was a cop and he’d lasted longer in the business than anyone would have guessed.

Dan had cash, not that Connor was going to spend his friend’s money on this expedition. Just having Dan’s support and open ears was enough.

So, Connor couldn’t grease mouths with cash. He had another option; one he didn’t like to think about. It was an option, but it could wait. Connor could snoop first.

Connor knew what the men who- who stole Cole looked like. He couldn’t go to the cops, like Dan said fucking obviously. But word on the street was that Markus Manfred, son of the famous Carl Manfred, liked to hang out at the Caribou Coffee Shop with his little gang of friends. And if Connor could pay him to do a small sketch then he could ask others about those two thugs.

Connor stood outside the Caribou Coffee, a pricey hipster coffee shop if there ever was one. But it was bright, warm lights danced inside. Connor couldn’t see any shadows and for a second, he thought maybe he would come back. But then he saw the coffee prices and laughed. Never mind.

Besides, the sticky hands and sticky fingers tugging him pushing him flickers were inside his mind. He’d never escape.

Connor clutched his bag and scooted to the counter, ordered a small coffee and camped out by the window. He hoped he could just ask and pay and run away.

He tapped his fingers along the mug and pulled out a small notebook and looked over the list of Cole, as he waited.

An hour later, Connor ordered another coffee and cringed at the cost. He needed every penny for the sketch, not his cover. As he was dropping the old mug back on the counter, he turned and saw Markus, exactly as the google images Connor had found at the library showed him. Finally.

He waited until Markus settled in a booth, not too far from Connor’s own. Then, hesitatingly, Connor settled in the seat across from Markus. “Hello.” He said quietly. “I’m Connor, mind if I sit here?”

Markus glanced up from his phone and nodded, smile confused. “Yeah, sure. Can I help you?”

“I- yeah. Yes, please.” Connor placed the mug down. “I know who you are.” Markus’ smile soured slightly, a tinge of falseness coming out. “I need a sketch and I don’t know anyone who might be able to draw someone from descriptors only. I- I’m no artist.” Connor laughed bitterly.

The other glanced at the phone, typed something quickly and placed it face-up on the table. “Look, Connor was it?” Connor nodded. “I’m not in the business for random jobs right now. If you want something sketched, you can go to my website and enter the contest and maybe you’ll win.” He raised his hands. “Who knows?”

Connor couldn’t run away run away run run run Connor run just give up. “No.” He said. Frowning. “I’m sorry but I really need this, and I don’t care if you’re some amazing artist I just need a person’s face sketched and I’ll pay you and get out of your hair, okay?” He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Connor scrabbled through his backpack and pulled out his lockbox. All his money was inside. He bit his lip and stared fixedly at the box. When he looked up, he saw Markus’ lips twisted crookedly and was holding the phone in the middle of a message. “Here.” He opened the box and pulled out half he owned. “I’ll give this to you. All of it. Just help me. Please.”

Markus put his phone down again, this time the screen was down. “Okay. Connor?” He pulled out a scrap of paper. “Tell me about this person.”

Connor did.

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Connor settled beside Dan at the bar and pulled out the drawing. Together they looked down.

“Shit.” Dan whistled. “You found yourself a fucking tough guy. You sure you want to go after him?” Connor nodded. “Alrighty. Fucking-A.” Dan bought them each a shot. “Liquid courage.”

They tapped glasses and drank.

Fucking-A indeed.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

With Dan’s contacts and the remains of Connor’s belongings, Connor bought a drug.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor snuck into the house. Dan had opted out of this, saying he couldn’t get mixed up in another dealer’s shit. That was okay, Connor understood. Dan interfering would be starting a turf war and as much as their friendship was absolute shit, the last Connor wanted was Dan’s ghost haunting his dreams too.

Connor didn’t need to survive this. Cole did.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Inside, Connor could hear a cacophony of noise, shouts of laughter and varied music. The air was foggy and hard to see through – only an ex-druggy could navigate through the blurred lighting and flashing sounds. The atmosphere was to increase user’s enjoyment of their drug-of-choice. Connor had visited a few houses like this himself. There’d be guards, bright-eyed and hidden beneath the smoke, ready to throw out trouble-makers or scatter at the sign of cops. There’d be users dancing and thrashing and passing out. There’d be others, testing the waters and seeing who were ripe for taking. Connor needed to pretend he was. Connor needed to be taken to Cole and then they could run run run Connor run leave together.

Connor didn’t want to snort. So, Connor had brought a date-drug and slipped a little into his own drink. Enough to get loose and floppy and easy. Connor sipped and relaxed and waited.

He giggled at the lights and the dancing shadows and why why why Connor why he cried at his brothers hiding in the shadows. Their eyes so sad so lonely Connor why why why Connor.

Gentle hands lifted him up and carried him away and Connor cried no no that’s my brother don’t take my brother Caleb no no no you killed my brother.

Connor cracked his eyes open to a sad smile and cracked eyes. Cole.

Cole.

Connor rolled over and pushed himself up. Carpet burns burns all down his arms scraped against his palms. “Cole!” He whispered and stared in wonder at the boy, alive before him.

Thanks, champ.

“You too, huh?” Cole whispered back. Soft brown eyes. A cracked interior so familiar and oh so broken.

“For you.” Connor smiled back, broken. “For you, Cole, for you.

Cole’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Connor glanced around. They were in a back room; he knew the type. He’d wandered back into them before during a drug-induced haze with Greg. The windows were barred outside, but the metal would be rusted and easy to escape through. It was daytime, the dealers were out and the others, the traffickers, would be planning another party for pickings. “I’m taking you home, Cole.”

Cole frowned. “Why?” He pulled his hands to his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I- I’m- I was just your dealer, Connor. I’m nothing. I’m just- alone.” Broken glass fell from his teeth and tinkled on the ground. Jagged shadows threatened his eyes and Connor wondered.

A cracked interior so familiar. Broken words, cracked smiles and shattered glass.

Crying crying boys with sticky fingers and sticky hands why why Connor why?

Connor running running always running.

“I’m taking you home – you have a home and a family, and they miss you, Cole. I don’t- I don’t know who they are but everywhere I walked.” Connor sighed raggedly. “You’re everywhere, Cole. I don’t have a– You need to go home.” He smiled, teeth jagged and sharp and eyebrows just a little too high. Smiling was wrong for him. Connor didn’t smile.

“Okay.” Cole said. He took Connor’s hand. “Okay Connor.”

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Connor wrapped Cole in the blanket, trying to collect all the shattered pieces together. He tried to tuck Cole back together again. He- it was his blanket. His blanket so new and so old and so full of skewed memories.

Connor tucked Cole together and took him to his little bridge and together they huddled close and hid. Connor didn’t want to say goodbye. Connor wanted a friend, just for tonight. Just tonight before he said goodbye and Cole went home and Connor went.

Cole shuddered and shivered and whimpered and cried.

Connor held him and stared down his shadows and said no no no not tonight go away go away.

Connor leaned against the brick wall and watched Cole approach the police station “Dad works here.” He said. “He’s going to be so mad.”

“He’s going to love you and hug you and be so happy.” Connor replied.

Cole turned, raised one hand to Connor, and stepped into the station. Connor sighed.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers clutching tight holding tight, Connor Connor Connor. The wind sighed, pulled him away. Run away run run runaway Connor.

Connor didn’t want to run.

Not anymore.

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Connor settled under his bridge and shivered. He had no money for food, he’d spent the last bit on Cole and Cole and Cole.

Cole Cole Cole Cole

Connor’s toes were numb, and his stomach ached, and he wondered.

He hadn’t shown for work and they’d said no don’t come back where were you to go.

Dan was not answering. Shadows flickered and hey man, how’s life hands clutched him tight.

Connor didn’t want to wonder anymore. Connor wanted to sleep.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers and running running – no that’s my brother don’t kill my brother why why why connor why did you hurt my brother no no Niles! No Caleb no stop don’t hurt my brothers no no no run Connor run run away you hurt them why why why Connor why did you hurt my brother-

Hot cocoa and smiles and marshmallows and little boys laughing.

Coughing and blood speckling snow and little hands holding hurting tummies and scared eyes saying no no Connor no look out Connor don’t no that’s my brother don’t hurt my brother

And Caleb looking behind Connor saying stop stop why did you hurt my brother no Connor are you okay Connor Connor Connor run away Connor run run run run

And Niles coughing and crying and Noah scared with wide eyes peeking from around the door seeing everything open-mouth

And Connor saying no no no Noah look away yelling at the man distracting him look at me look at me look at me running running

Chase me chase me hurt me I hurt you I shot you hurt me not them

Distracting distracting them and the babysitter was there – the babysitter called police and and and

Connor stilled.

Connor slept.

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Cozy blankets and warm cocoa and four little boys playing in the snow with laughter and shouts of joy and happy parents with cocoa and happy smiles and laughter and snow and laughter.

Chapter 1

#dbh connor #connor rk800 #dbh #dbh fanfic #kangarooney work #dbh fanfic connor #warnings #r-ate-9 work #my work #dont steal

1 note · View note

harley-sunday · 4 years

Text

A Good Man Goes to War [03]

Summary: Starts right after Civil War. Steve Rogers is done being Captain America and quite happy living a quiet life in a safe house somewhere in Canada. Until Thanos goes after the Infinity Stones. What happens when a good man goes to war?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (f) but could be read as reader insert.

Warnings: Loss.

Word count: 4.5k

Entry for @browngirlmagic‘s writing challenge. My prompt was “Demons run when a good man goes to war.”

AN: We’re getting closer to the end. This one hurt, not going to lie, but you know, full-circle and all that. Well, almost anyway. Please let me know what you think ♥

I don’t do taglists, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers you should see any update I post.

Masterlist

“Steve?”

There’s something about her voice that’s different, but it isn’t the worried tone he’s heard before. He wonders what is going on and if it has something to do with the strange way she’s been acting ever since they got back from their trip into town yesterday. There was some secrecy involved when it came to the contents of her drugstore bag and really the only thing he can come up with is that maybe she’s dyeing her hair and wants it to be a surprise. She has been in the bathroom for a quite some time already, after all.

He finds her upstairs, but in their bedroom, hair looking her normal color, pacing up and down the room with a smile on her face and something that he thinks looks like a thermometer in her hands. To say he’s confused would be an understatement. He sits down on the bed at her request and can’t help himself, “Are you ok?”

She stands in front of him, smiling even more widely and then she shows him the stick that says ‘over three weeks’ followed by a whispered, “I think I’m pregnant.”

It’s a good thing he’s already sitting down, because his head is spinning, and he can’t believe this is actually happening. He knows she’s waiting for him to say something, anything, but all he can think about is how he finally seems to get to have the normal life he’s been dreaming of for so long. He looks up at her and when he sees the worried look on her face he quickly takes one of her hands in his and pulls her closer.

“You ok?” Her voice is soft, her free hand running through his hair before she presses a kiss to the top of his head.

He nods, gently tugging on her hips to make her sit down in his lap and then he kisses her to show her that, really, he is.

She smiles into the kiss before she pulls back a little, resting her forehead against his, “I know we never talked about this,” she clears her throat, “but-”

“Hey,” he interrupts her, pulling back a little so he can look at her, “there is nothing to talk about.” He kisses her again before he continues, “I have two missions left, but once they’re done I can’t wait to settle down here with you and,” he puts his hand on her stomach, “this little one.”

“I love you,” she says, sounding a little relieved, throwing her arms around him and pulling him close.

“I love you too, doll,” he replies with a smile, vowing right then and there he’ll make her his once he’s back for good.

Natasha visits them somewhere in May and somehow she knows?

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t told her anything, but still she shows up with a present for them, a wooden toy that turns out to be Russian made and exactly like the one she had when she was just a baby. Something passes over her features as she tells him about it, which in turn stop him from asking about it, after all he knows her well enough to know she doesn’t like to talk about her childhood.

He is surprised to see Natasha greet her like they're old friends when she steps into the cabin, their quick banter making him realize there’s more to their story than he first thought. He looks at them expectantly.

“Yeah, so uh,” she clears her throat, and nods towards the woman standing next to her, “Nat and I know each other from way back.”

“Right,” he says, because of course they do. Honestly, he should have seen this coming.

“I taught her some basic hand-to-hand combat skills when she first started running this safe house,” Natasha offers with a grin. “Fury set it up.”

“So that day you and Sam came over?”

“She knew who I was,” Natasha nods.

“Huh.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, not sure if he should be mad or relieved. He decides he needs more information, “And you’ve been keeping in touch or?”

Natasha nods, “We use the secure line and sort of developed a code for everything.” She snickers then, “We call you ‘The puppy’.”

He looks from Natasha to her and sees she’s trying to keep a straight face from the way she’s biting her lip, but ultimately she fails and laughs, “It was the only thing we could come up with that would make sense to talk about once you moved in.” She looks at Natasha, “He’s a good boy, though.”

Natasha nods in agreement, a sparkle in her eyes, “He really is.”

“I hate you,” he says, shaking his head, trying his hardest not to laugh.

“No you don’t,” both she and Natasha counter at the same time.

There’s a mission somewhere in June, but both Natasha and Sam assure him they can handle it, and so he gets to stay with her, preparing the cabin for the summer months. He tends to the vegetable garden mostly, making sure to remove the dead crops after the winter and sowing new ones in time for the harvest in September, while she busies herself with the annual spring cleaning.

She’s just over three months when his birthday comes around, and he loves the way she’s already showing a little. The first trimester passed without too much trouble, except for some morning sickness she keeps telling him to stop worrying about. Like last year she’s made him all sorts of cupcakes for his birthday, the candle put into the blueberry one this time. He slightly alters his wish from last year, but ultimately he wishes for the same thing even though there’s still one mission coming up.

They’re on the front porch, where she’s sitting in his lap, her fingers running through his hair over and over again in a way that make him completely relaxed. Once again he wishes he could stop time and just enjoy this moment forever.

“Have you thought of any names yet?”

Her soft voice interrupts his thoughts and he shakes his head, “Not really.”

“No?” She sounds surprised, “I have.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replies, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He looks up at her expectantly.

“Oh, you want me to tell you?” she acts surprised. “Nope,” she says then, popping the p, “not until you come up with some of your own.”

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” He gently pinches her sides, making her laugh.

“Yeah, it’s like that,” she counters with a grin, hollering then when he lifts her up in one swift motion and throws her over his shoulder, “Steve!”

He leaves for his last mission somewhere at the end of August, even though every fiber in his body tells him not to go. She assures him she’ll be fine and that she won’t do anything crazy, but still he’s a little distracted when Natasha and Sam pick him up, and Natasha gently tells him to snap out of it when they take off.

When he returns home four weeks later she’s waiting for him on the porch, her stomach much rounder than when he left. She is glowing and he falls in love with her a little more, this strong woman that he knows will be an amazing mother soon. He holds her as tight as he can, pressing a kiss to her temple before he bends over and kisses her stomach, whispering a quiet, “Hey little one, Daddy’s home.”

“And here to stay,” she adds with a smile, relief washing through her voice as she runs her fingers through his hair.

He stands up straight and pulls her in for a kiss, smiling against her lips when he murmurs, “‘M never leaving you again.”

“At least not until we’ve finished painting the nursery,” she jokes before she throws her arms around his neck and kisses his passionately, a quiet moan escaping her when she opens her mouth and his tongue slips in.

His hands are halfway to her thighs, ready to lift her up, when he realizes there’s now a bump in the way and so instead he pulls back from the kiss and picks her up bridal style, carrying her up to their bedroom with ease. She snuggles up to him once he’s joined her on the bed, her fingers drawing intricate patterns on the arm that’s carefully draped over her stomach, and a quiet sort of happiness settles over him because she’s home to him.

She asks him if he has thought any more about names, but he tells her he still has some time and to not rush him otherwise he’ll name the kid Natasha whether it’s a girl or not.

They finish the nursery with a month to spare, the pale yellow walls of his old bedroom now a soft green with tangerine accents, or so she tells him anyway. To him it’s just green and orange. They decided early on that they’d rather not know the sex of the baby in advance, hence the lack of blue and pink in the room, which suits him just fine.

He makes good on his promise to make her his early November, exactly one year after their first kiss. He wishes he could say there was an epic proposal that knocked her off her feet, but in reality it was more of a joint decision. Like everything they have been doing so far. She was quick to tell him that she wasn’t one for big parties and so they traveled just across the border, to Littlefork, where they got married at city hall. They make a weekend out of it, and drive back home the long way round, spending their wedding night in a lodge somewhere in Caribou Falls.

They call Natasha on their way back home and tell her the news, but ask her to keep it to herself, at least for a little while. After all, he’s still not really talking to anyone else but Natasha and Sam and he’s not sure he ever will. Natasha invites herself and Sam to a visit on Christmas Day in the way that only she can, and of course they tell her they’re more than welcome.

Once they get home, time seems to go even faster and before he knows it’s early December and she yells at him to grab the hospital bag and gun it to town, because she thinks her water has just broke. He panics, just a little, but she stays remarkably calm and jokes that maybe she should drive. They make it there in about thirty minutes, a record he’s not necessarily proud of, but according to the doctors they got there just in time because the baby’s head is already crowning.

He gets to go with her to the delivery room and there he gets to witness a primal power that far exceeds his own when she pushes and pushes and pushes until there is a baby and he is a father.

He thinks it is the best feeling in the world, but then they put the baby on her stomach and he can actually pinpoint the moment she becomes a mother, and it’s like his heart grows ten sizes with nothing but love for her. He presses a kiss to her temple and whispers, “I love you,”

She smiles, a little exhausted, and sweaty, but still more beautiful than ever, and then the doctor informs them that it’s a little boy and she nods, looking down at the baby, whispering a quiet, “Hello, little man,” before she looks up at him, “I really like Wyatt.”

“Wyatt it is,” he replies, because somehow it fits, but also because right now he would do anything she’d ask him to.

“It means ‘brave in war’,” she offers, gently stroking their son’s blond hair.

One of the nurses steps in then, taking the baby from her, wrapping it in a blanket and handing it to him, because they’d like to clean her up a little, and so here he is, holding this tiny little baby boy that is his son. He takes it all in, the little fingers, the tiny toes, and the scrunched up nose that he hopes will end up looking like hers.

He knows he’ll be forever indebted to her now, because there is nothing he could ever give her that matches this, even though he vows right then and there, with Wyatt as his witness, that he’ll never stop trying.

Natasha and Sam visit them on Christmas day like they planned and suddenly the house is filled with people and laughter and stories of the good old days, and he doesn’t remember a time when he was happier. He tells them stories about Christmas when he was a kid, how Bucky would always find a way to get enough money to buy them a slice of fruitcake from the bakery around the corner. Talking about Bucky makes him realize he misses his best friend and he wonders how things are over in Wakanda. Maybe he should try to contact T’Challa in the new year, see if they can come over for a visit. After all, he did promise her he’d take her there someday.

Wyatt ends up spending most of the day in Natasha’s arms, who keeps whispering, what sound like little secrets, to him in Russian. Wyatt just stares at her intently, like he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He’s a little hesitant to let Sam hold his son, but it turns out Sam’s a natural, quietly singing Marvin Gaye songs as he walks around the living room with Wyatt in his arms until dinner is ready. He is sad to see them leave at the end of the night, but they promise they’ll see each other again soon and he knows they will.

They spend New Year’s Eve like any other night, except now they struggle to stay awake until midnight, while Wyatt’s sleeping soundly in his crib upstairs. And for Wyatt, New Year’s Day is like every other day and so he doesn’t care his parents were up way past their bedtime the night before, he would still like his bottle at six AM, thank you very much.

The morning shift is his, like any other shift really, because it’s his way of paying his dues. He lets her dote on their little boy while he takes care of bottles, nappies, and laundry as much as he can. Wyatt seems to thrive, and as happy as a one-month old can be, and she’s very relaxed about everything as well which makes him feel like maybe they’ve got this.

They venture out into the cold a few days into the new year, Wyatt bundled up and tucked away in the baby carrier he’s put on under his jacket. The sun is watery in the sky, and the snow covered ground shows endless animal tracks, most of them from deer and squirrels but he also thinks he sees some larger prints that would indicate moose. When he asks her about it she tells him it’s just a single family, who have been here as long a she can remember.

Day by day they get back into the swing of things, with her back in the kitchen more and more, and him doing whatever he can around the house. Wyatt is six weeks old and as happy as can be, which in turn makes them a little more relaxed too. And so one night, when they’re snuggled up on the couch, the three of them, Wyatt sleeping soundly in her arms, she rests her head on his shoulder, a content sigh escaping her, a quiet, “I love you,” following.

He kisses the top of her head, “I love you too.”

She’s about to say something but then she’s interrupted by a buzzing sound coming from one of the kitchen drawers. He gets up immediately, cursing quietly, and she looks up at him, worried because she knows what this means.

He finds the old flip phone somewhere in the back of the cutlery drawer and answers it with a solemn, “Rogers.”

The voice he hears on the other end isn’t Tony’s but Bruce’s and immediately he’s on high alert. He listens to the other man trying to form a coherent story, but in the end Bruce just says, “We need Captain America, Steve. Things are bad.”

He answers with a simple, “Ok.” and then ends the call. He turns towards her and shakes his head, “I need to go.” His other phone, the one Natasha gave him, beeps them, and he takes it out of his back pocket, opening the message app and quickly scanning what she wrote. Bruce was right, it is bad.

She joins him in the kitchen, Wyatt still undisturbed by the change in atmosphere although he is awake now, and looks up at him, “How long until you have to go?”

“Natasha and Sam are at the airport in an hour,” he replies, running a hand through his hair.

“With the Quinjet?”

He nods, “Yeah.”

“Oh God,” she whispers, hand in front of her mouth because she knows as well as he does that they would never use a civilian airport unless there was no time to lose. A sob escapes her then, but she clears her throat and he knows she’s trying her best to stay strong. “Ok,” she starts, “you have about ten minutes before you have to leave. What do you need?”

“More time,” he thinks, but instead he says, “Nothing. All my gear is still on the Quinjet.”

“When will you be back?”

She’s never asked this before, but he sees her looking at Wyatt and he understands. He wishes he could give her an answer, but instead he shrugs, “I don’t know.” He holds out his arms and pulls her in for a hug, “I’m really sorry, doll.”

“It’s ok. The world needs you more right now, so you should go and save it, Captain,” she tries to smile even though he knows she’s just trying to put on a brave face. “We’ll be fine,” she nods, “I’ll be on the porch when you get back. Promise”

The goodbye is hard, maybe the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but he keeps telling himself that she’s strong enough for both of them. He tells his son that he’ll be back soon and to be kind to his mom, and he could have sworn Wyatt seems to understand.

He’s at the airport with minutes to spare, the Quinjet already waiting for him, a solemn nod from both Natasha and Sam as a greeting. He suits up once they’re airborne, Natasha then explaining everything to him way better than Bruce ever could and it’s then he understand the gravity of the situation and wishes he would have taken her and Wyatt with him.

“Don’t,” Natasha says, because of course she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “They are safe where they are.” Her hand is on his shoulder then, “I don’t know if she told you, but there’s a bunker, not far from the cabin. It has everything she needs to survive at least five months, if not more now that it’s just her and Wyatt.”

He looks at Natasha, surprised, because no, she never told him this.

“Smart girl,” Natasha comments before she explains, “The less people know about it, the better.”

“But we’re-”

“I know,” Natasha squeezes his shoulder, “but Nick pretty much made her swear on her life. Me too, by the way.” She nods towards Sam, “Sit down, get some rest. We’ve got this.”

They arrive in Edinburgh a couple of hours later and nothing is ever really the same after that.

They’re on their way to Wakanda, Rhodey and Sam flying the aircraft, while Bruce and Vision talk about how to safely remove the soul stone. Wanda keeps trying to come up with other ways to make this work, but so far her attempts are futile. He finds himself seated next to Natasha, mentally preparing himself for what seems to be a war against Thanos when suddenly he remembers something.

“When a good man goes to war,” he whispers, the taste of the words sour in his mouth.

“Sorry?” Natasha says from somewhere on his right.

“When a good man goes to war,” he repeats, a little louder. “I read it somewhere, right before I left for Canada.” He looks at her, “Seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, Steve,” she reaches out, her hand on his arm then, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Stephen Strange wrote that,”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “there’s more to it though.”

“Tell me,” he says, probably against better judgment, because she looks very hesitant.

“Not now,” she says and points towards the window. “We’re here.”

He watches as Sam expertly lands the Quinjet on the square in front of the palace, and then he and Natasha are the first to exit. He walks up to T’Challa, “Seems like I’m always thanking you for something.”

T’Challa simply shakes his hand and tells them to follow him, where he tells them, “You have my kings guard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje and,”

“A semi-stable one-hundred year old man,” someone says from somewhere in front of him.

He smiles, because he would recognize that voice anywhere, some of his worries a little less now that his best friend will fight alongside him. He can’t wait to tell Bucky about his wife and son but he never even gets the chance.

He’s lost all sense of time, not quite believing Natasha when she tells him the battle only lasted a couple of hours. Too much has happened. He’s lost Bucky. Again. Half the population’s gone. Thanos is God knows where doing God knows what with the Infinity Stones. It’s just too much and so he pushes all that to the back of his mind, determined to get back to that little cabin in Canada as soon as he can. He’ll deal with the aftermath once he’s home.

Natasha wants him to get looked at first, maybe get some rest, but he just tells her she can either come with him or stay here in Wakanda, but that he is going. Now. She stays, tells him someone needs to keep what’s left of the team together and before all this he would have taken this as personal jab, but now he just tells her to be safe and to stay in touch.

He finds the Quinjet where Sam parked it just this morning and pushes the button necessary for it to start up the systems. Natasha catches up with him just as he’s about to prepare for take off, and she’s a little out of breath and he thinks he sees the hint of tears in her eyes, but this is Natasha, so it must be a trick of the light.

“I think you need to hear the rest of what Strange wrote.”

“The poem?” He shakes his head, “I don’t think now’s the time,”

“It’s not so much a poem,” she admits. “It’s more a prophecy.”

“Natasha-”

She clears her throat, and he’s not sure if every other noise suddenly disappears or if that’s just his imagination, but he can hear her loud and clear when she recites,

“Demons run when a good man goes to war Night will fall and drown the sun When a good man goes to war

Friendship dies and true love lies Night will fall and the dark will rise When a good man goes to war

Demons run, but count the cost The battle is won, but the child is lost”

He flies the Quinjet back to the Red Lake Airport, pushing the aircraft to its absolute limits, trying to get there faster. The airport is empty, no one except the janitor who does what he always seems to do, quietly mopping the floors, but looking slightly more bewildered this time. He hurries past the man, who looks up expectantly like he’ll explain what has happened, but he doesn’t want to. Not now. Not ever.

His bike is waiting for him exactly where he left it, but then again he’s only been gone a little over two days. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the images that keep flooding his mind, not wanting to think about everything that has happened since he left her and Wyatt, although the image of Bucky turning to dust is still fresh on his mind. He’ll have to deal with later. Or not at all.

There’s something tugging on his heart all the way from the airport to the cabin and he’s sure he exceeds the speed limit enough to lose his licence, but he really doesn’t care. Not that there’s anyone else on the road, which, to be honest, isn’t that unusual here, but still, it feels different this time. He really wants to get home as quickly as possible, hold them, make sure they are alright, even though he knows something has happened. He feels it somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach.

She’s not there on the porch like she promised she would be, and so he’s off of the bike and inside the cabin in a matter of seconds but she’s not there either. He checks upstairs, half expecting to find Wyatt alone in his crib, and not sure if he’s relieved when he doesn’t. He starts praying then, to a God he long stopped believing in, for them to be alright. He fishes out the piece of paper Natasha handed him, a quick drawing to show him where the bunker is located, and then he’s running.

When he gets there he notices the door is slightly ajar and he hears something that he can only describe as grief coming from inside. He takes a moment to just breathe, in and out, trying to get himself under control, knowing he will have to be the strong one for a while. He pushes the door open slowly and his heart shatters into a tiny million pieces when he sees her sitting there on the bottom of the stairs, her head buried in her hands as she cries. And cries. And cries.

He takes a tentative step towards her, reaching out to her, and her head snaps up and she looks absolutely lost. He rushes to her side and sits down beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Her cries become wails then, her whole body shaking, and she doesn’t have to say anything, because he knows. His prayers turn to promises then, because someone will pay for this.

He promises right there and then that he will do whatever it takes to avenge his son.

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers fanfic #ayesha1kwritingchallenge #Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers #Captain America

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uzumaki-rebellion · 4 years

Text

“Wet Sugar” [Part 15 of 30]

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"We at the family reunion Tellin' jokes and playin' spades Uncle Dave is on the barbecue grill Grandma braggin 'bout the blanket she made For the new baby on her way Even though the daddy ain't really ready This child is coming, anyway, yeah

Neicey made her famous potato salad, somehow it turns out green Maybe it's all the scallions, could be the celery But oh, Uncle Jerome loves it Hey baby baby, here comes my favorite, my favorite cousin He says he doing fine, takin' it one step a day but in my heart I know it ain't that way…"

Jill Scott – "Family Reunion"

The fifty-pound block of solid cement exploded in a flash of smoke and blue pulsing rays of vibranium firepower.

"Whoo, shit!" Erik yelled feeling the vibratory power of Klaue's new and improved arm.

He turned off the remote-control unit in his hand and ran his fingers along the closed seam of the pale arm.

"Fuck yeah," Erik mumbled to himself as his fingers felt the slow whirring of the device powering down. The arm itself was just faintly warm. He was confident he had solved Klaue's problem. He opened and closed the arm numerous times for a full hour to see if there were any glitches in sealing up properly but there was none. He decided to do pulse glass breaking tests for the next day.

Feeling good, Erik took out a Glock from the gun rack and fired off some shots against a few targets.

"Killmonger, everything okay down there?"

Yani's voice on the intercom was always a treat.

"All good, baby. I'm done."

"You want something to drink?"

"Bring me a beer, please."

Within ten minutes Yani was strolling up to him holding a cold bottle of Carib Lager. He chugged it down and he wasn't surprised when she handed him another.

He kissed her on the lips and she wiped a bit of beer liquid from her mouth. He put the second bottle down.

"You ever shot a gun before?" he asked.

"No."

"Want to?"

Her eyes took in the clean-looking Glock in his hand.

"Guns scare me."

"They should, but you should know how to handle one around here."

She nodded. He walked back up to the gun wall and grabbed earplugs and small safety glasses for her.

"Put these on," he said handing her the protective items.

She stuffed the plugs in her ear and adjusted the yellow high-def glasses over her eyes.

"Watch me," he said.

He chose an easy target for her, a wide metal post. Holding the gun properly, he exaggerated his technique so she would clearly see what he needed her to do to stay safe and talked her through his actions.

He let off a few rounds, then walked over to fix a new target for her. Returning to her side, Erik took the magazine out of the gun, made sure the chamber was clear and allowed her to handle the weapon safely so she could get used to the weight of it in her hand. She was an apt pupil.

"Put the webbing of your hand as high on the backstrap of the pistol as you can…yeah…just like that. Now make sure the knuckle of your middle finger goes under the trigger guard here…yeah…good. That's the point of contact I was telling you about. You sure you haven't handled a gun before?"

"Nope. Not a real one."

"You lookin' real comfortable with that piece in your hand, girl. Make sure that slide is in line with your…yeah…your forearm. Good. That'll help you control your recoil. Now get your weak hand in place."

She moved her left hand in a forty-five-degree angle and placed it in position. Her left pointer finger went under the trigger guard too and he saw her breathing speed up.

"You're doing fine. No bullets in there. This is just you getting to know the gun like a new friend. Okay?"

She nodded, her eyes very serious, and her lips pressed tight with focus.

"Roll your thumb down target…"

She did as she was told and he saw her relax once the gun felt more secure in her hands.

"Get your stance correct, strong side and support side."

Yani adjusted her legs accordingly.

"Bend those knees…"

Her chunky knees looked cute in her cutoffs as they bent to give her flexibility in movement. She was sweating in her tank top, more so from nerves than the sun he was guessing.

"Doing good, Ma. Aim for your target…don't lock your elbows all the way out, Yani. That recoil will start pushing you back if you do that. You're going to let off multiple shots—"

Yani stood straight and pointed the gun down and out toward him.

"I don't want to do this," she said.

"What's wrong? You're being safe—"

"I just…I just thought about when Chez had that guy put a gun on you…"

"I'm ex-military. Had a lot of guns on me. I'm still here. You can do this. I won't push you if you really don't want to try it."

He reached out for the gun and took it from her. Her hands went to her hips and she stared at the target.

"We can do it another time," he said.

Her right sneaker tapped on the ground and her eyes leveled back on his.

"Can we just practice this part and not shoot yet?"

"Whatever you want."

He watched her work the gun with practice grip and stance moves and after some time she seemed to ease into more comfort.

"I do the video shooting with Kendall, but it feels different when the real thing is in my hand," she said.

"I hear ya," he said.

Her eyes sought his again.

"I think I want to shoot it now."

"Okay. I'll put the magazine back in and you can fire some rounds. Stop any time you want, just make sure the aim is downrange at all times. Understand?"

"Yeah."

He armed the gun and handed it back to her. Her hands were steady.

She smiled at him.

Standing behind her, he watched her get her grip and stance correct.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"I don't want to drop it and have it bounce and kill us," she said.

"I'm right here with you. You already have a nice grip on it. Plant your stance…"

Yani aimed for her target.

"Whenever—"

She squeezed off rounds that swiss-cheesed the target very close to the center. He stared at her for a long time, even after she aimed the gun down the way he showed her.

"Good?" she asked.

"Guess that video playing helped," he said.

"It wasn't as hard as I thought. I could feel my arms straightening and I felt that push back. I want to try again."

The hard plink sound of metal striking metal echoed with muffled sound from the earplugs.

Yani seemed pleased with herself.

Erik taught her how to load the Glock and how to check the chamber. She shot more rounds and tried to improve her accuracy. By the time they were done, his second beer was hot from the sun.

"Can you show me how to use one of those big guns? The AK's?" she said.

Well damn.

He brought down two different assault weapons and showed her how they worked and let her practice her grip and stance again. Before he let her try firing them, he had to let her know about his trip.

"I'm going to leave next Sunday."

Her eyes seemed to dim. A crease marred her forehead.

"How long?"

So quiet. Her voice and her whole demeanor reminded him of his mother whenever his father left them for thirty days once a year until his death. At the time, his parents fed him the lie that his father was going to work in Atlanta for a month. N'Jobu Udaku pretended to be Joseph Stevens, a popular Oakland barber. So popular that his teaching services were needed at a barber college down south. It was just the way it was. Until Erik learned the truth in his father's journals that his play Uncle gave him before he made the decision to go to the Naval Academy. Truth, always stranger than fiction, was encased in the ruse of his Baba being in Georgia. As a boy, Erik had no clue of what his mother went through every time his father left. Her anxiety over his father leaving didn't make sense, but looking at Yani, he saw his mother again. The worry of would he return safe and sound. Would something or someone keep him from coming back to her?

"A week at the most. I have to return something to Klaue in person—"

"Whatever it is that you have been blowing up down here?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"You won't be in danger again, will you? Not like last time…"

"Any work with him is dangerous. You know that."

"Will I be able to talk to you while you are gone?"

" I can't risk—"

She held up her hands.

"The less I know, the better…right?"

"Yeah."

"What if something happens to you…would anyone tell me?"

"No."

Yani shoved the AK-47 back into his hand, picked up the empty and half-full beer bottles and headed back up toward the house they shared.

"Yani!"

He put all the weapons away and secured them before he went after her.

###

Erik found Yani checking on Sydette who was still fast asleep for her afternoon nap in her room. The shades were drawn to block out the bright sun, and the baby was on her back with her thumb stuck in her mouth and her fingers curled around a soft pale green baby blanket.

"You know my life. You know there are risks for me," he said.

Yani walked away from the bed and out of the bedroom. He followed her into the living room and out onto the porch. She sat on their favorite lounge seat and he perched up next to her.

"Mi know what you tell," she said.

"It's just a delivery."

"What if he won't let you come back?"

"He don't control me like that."

"But you're loyal to him. He said that all the time. You always do what him wants. If him tell you stay wherever he is, would you do it?"

Purpose. The long game. Righting a wrong. Justice.

"I would."

"Then none of this is real. My love doesn't mean anything to you."

"Love is everything. It's why I do what I do. I know that doesn't make sense to you, but I have to do what I do to finish something that was started a long time ago. I can't stop…this work…I can't…I have this contract that I have to finish. Until I do that, nothing can stand in my way—"

"So we are in your way?"

"You know that's not what I mean. I finish my contract and then…I can do what I want."

"Does that mean me and Sydette?"

"If it's meant to be."

"Are we meant to be, Killmonger?"

"I dunno. Nothing is guaranteed in this life. But I'm trying to hold onto you and that little girl sleeping in this house as long as I can."

"Can you even tell me where you are going?"

"Far from here. Don't ask me anything more about it."

"Mi no like this."

"I know."

He pulled her onto his lap.

"You just study and take care of Sydette. The compound is yours. I need you to stay in the middle house while I'm gone. If I can contact you, I will. It'll be seven to ten days max."

She shook her head.

"Don't talk about it. Just go and come back."

She threw her arms around his neck and he kissed her throat and let his lips drop down to her shoulder. She straddled him and accepted the wet touches of his lips on her skin.

"I'm coming back to you."

"I won't believe it until it's true," she said lifting her neck to accommodate his mouth on her warm skin.

He ran his lips down her side and lifted up her tank top and gave soft teasing kisses down her side. He nipped at the side of her right breast and pulled her top off all the way. She lifted up and eased her shorts and panties off and kicked away her trainers.

Her eyes avoided his face as she pulled off his shirt and then licked his lips with her eager tongue. He opened his mouth and let his tongue slide against hers. Her nails drew soft lines in his scalp.

"All this new growth. I need to palm roll alla this for you," she whispered in his ear.

"I should cut it off. Start fresh."

"I can cut it if you want," she said.

His mouth suckled the side of her waist as she raised up and leaned over his right side, her head resting on the lounge seat headrest.

He lifted her up and unfastened his pants, slipping them off and pulling her back down on his lap.

There were so many positions they had done together, but his favorite with her was this, relaxing outside with a view of the ocean and her body writhing on his lap, his lips pressed into her side, licking her there, tasting her skin there, feeling her weight holding him down.

He felt himself stiffen with slow ease and he took his time touching her all over. She kept her head resting near his neck and just circled her waist. He reached down and adjusted his erection between her legs. His fingers traced up her back, one hand cradling her neck, the other resting on her backside. Everything he needed in life at that moment was right there on his lap. He let his head fall back and turned his face to look at hers and then he was looking down at her plush rump.

She lined her face up with his and finally looked at him.

"I love you," she said.

"Love you," he said and sank his tongue deep in her mouth.

They couldn't part their lips from one another. Erik listened to the crashing of the surf down below, could smell the lush bloom of island flowers around the house, tasted the saliva exchanged between them flavored with beer. His fingers pinched the tips of her breasts and her nipples pebbled like ornamental jewels. A shivery breath left her mouth and he eyed her breasts as they jiggled slightly. Her body was fuller since they had been living together, their rich meals and unrushed life adding pounds to her frame. It became evident when her bikini tops couldn't fully hold her breasts and her shorts couldn't fasten around her belly like before. When she walked around the house, her thighs always touched, and Lord have mercy when she swam naked and he caught sight of her walking into the surf, her rump bouncing, he could just die right there a happy man.

He went for her lips again. When he couldn't handle kissing her anymore and she had her mouth sucking on his neck, he lifted her up by her waist.

"Lemme cum in your pussy," he sighed.

She reached between their legs and held his manhood. Sitting down on him, letting his inches split her folds, her heat engulfing him with tight squeezes until she rested on his balls, Erik held his breath. Yani's face returned to the headrest, and his eyes watched the sea once more.

"I can hear that pussy, baby," he groaned.

She shifted her weight and gripped the back of the lounger dropping her ass on him hard. His heels pressed into the floor and his legs shook.

"Ooh, pound that pussy on me, girl…."

His hands gripped each ass cheek and he held on for dear life. She leaned back and the sweet look on her face forced him to unravel under her.

Gasping for breath he stared up at her and saw the worry was back in her face again. He flipped her over and pressed his face into her soft folds. His tongue and fingers had her lustful cries tingling his ears, but even as he brought her to completion, a lingering sadness enveloped her and he couldn't shake it away from her.

"Stop worrying," he whispered in her ear.

She could only throw her arms around his neck and he held her for a long time.

###

Yani had some of the cheating-est cousins on that side of the world.

Erik was paired up with her cousin Kendall for a game of Spades, but two of Yani's other male cousins, Dex and Boogie took every opportunity to subtract points, make up points and deny reneging on various hands.

"I'm done!" Erik shouted.

Dex and Boogie laughed as he jumped up from a folding chair and grabbed a cold ginger beer from a cooler next to Twyla who was waiting to play with Cee Cee. Erik's eye's darted to find Yani making the rounds with her family on the beach.

Their arrival had felt a little awkward when they met up with her parents and a few Aunties and Uncles. Erik carried a twelve-pack of beer and two family-size bags of potato chips. The stares they gave him made Yani nervous until Twyla rescued them by pulling them away and taking Sydette from Yani's hands.

He felt eyes on him everywhere he walked, and for a time, her male relatives were cool to him until Kendall arrived. He got along well with Kendall, and once the others saw Kendall and Twyla treating him like family, the tension eased. Mainly from the younger family members. The elders sucked their teeth and whispered.

"Your cousins are shady at the table," he said.

Yani sipped on a coke and kept her eyes on Sydette who played in the sand with some younger children.

"Told you not to play with them. Go play dominoes with Dulan and them. You want anything more to eat?"

"Nah. I'm good for now. Full."

Yani walked to a grouping of folding tables filled with food. Yani's Uncle Monty grilled some chicken and the enticing aroma of BBQ sauce and charred meat swirled around them. He watched her fix herself a new plate.

"Gyal, look at you…all big and fat and happy looking. Yuh wit pickney again?"

Erik saw Yani's face freeze with embarrassment. She stopped in front of two women seated on a picnic bench across from where Erik was seated. Yani's eyes caught his and he could only stare helpless.

Yani's mother's head swiveled their way, her eyes tight. The gathering seemed to come to a halt until a familiar voice cut through the discomfort.

"Auntie!' Yani called out moving quickly to Leona who swept onto the beach with more people. Leona gave a shout to folks and hugged Yani before her eyes rested on his face.

"Mr. Killmomnger!" Leona shouted giving him a big hug.

"Hey you two, why the looks?" Leona said to the two women on the bench. Yani's mother walked over handing Leona a cool bottle of water.

"Your niece, she nuh look big? New baby?"

Leona stared at Erik first and then her eyes slyly took in Yani's figure. Yani sucked her teeth.

"I'm not getting big like that," Yani squeaked.

The women made chiding sounds and looked away. Paula put her hands on her hips.

"Yani is going to school in the fall. She nuh going down that road…tuh."

"Stop trying to shame mi niece," Leona said, "you look good, Yani. How's the compound?"

"Good. Excuse me."

Yani walked over to Erik and sat down. She ate her food and made no eye contact with her Aunts.

"They always have something to say," Yani said stuffing curried chicken roti in her mouth. Erik threw his arm around her chair.

"You look good to me, baby," he said kissing her cheek.

"Mi look fat to you?"

"I said you look good—"

"But, I have put on a lot of weight—"

"Good weight, trust."

"They will tell everyone I'm pregnant by you."

"Don't trip."

"I knew this was a bad idea. I should've told Mommy I was sick or something."

She finished her plate as Sydette came waddling over and reaching for any leftovers. Yani let her chew on a tiny piece of her eaten roti.

Erik took her plate and threw it away and grabbed another soda for her. He handed it to her as Twyla sauntered over.

"Fitting in?" Twyla said grinning.

"I'm cool," he said.

"They do every new person like that. You are a real treat for the gossip," she said.

"Them so rude," Yani said scooping Sydette onto her lap. She drank from her soda and let the baby have some.

"Oh, shit," Yani said.

Her eyes looked past her parents and toward the boardwalk. Erik looked to see what caught her attention and he felt his jaw get tight.

Chez.

He was alone and dressed nicely in board shorts and a snazzy designer t-shirt. He walked up to Yani's parents and greeted them. They didn't seem happy to see him, but they allowed him to linger. Yani's mother pointed toward Yani and Chez walked over. Erik stood up glaring at him.

"What are you doing here?" Yani said.

She held Sydette tight. Chez reached down and touched one of his daughter's twists.

"Hey Detty! Daddy's here."

Chez gave a cautious glance at Erik.

"Can I hold mi pickney?" he asked.

"Thought I told you not to be around her—"

"Chill, nigga. It's Sunday. Been taking her money to Twyla—"

"I told you to bring it to the house later when I got home," Twyla said, just as agitated as Erik was feeling.

"I have a show tonight, won't be able to come later. I know y'all come here so I'm just dropping it off."

Chez reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. Twyla snatched it.

"Time to leave," Erik said.

"Can I hold mi pickney for a minute?"

Chez looked at Yani.

"I said leave—"

"Killmonger…please. I don't want a scene."

She stood up and handed Sydette to Chez.

Erik stepped away from them and Leona sidled up to him.

"He won't act up here," she said to him.

"I know he won't—"

"Calm yourself and talk to me."

Erik kept his eyes on Chez. Yani stood near him with Twyla right next to her.

"Killmonger…"

Leona's voice was soothing and his frayed nerves simmered down.

"She looks happy, my niece. Treatin' her well?"

"Yeah."

"All three of you getting along?"

Erik smiled.

Leona regarded their surroundings.

"Family hot and cold?"

"Yeah."

Erik could see some strain on Yani's face. Sydette's face was calm and focused on Yani's. Chez rocked her in his arms.

"Baba," Sydette said when Erik stepped next to Yani again. The baby raised her hands up to Erik.

"Baba?" Chez said. His eyes turned cold quickly.

Yani took Sydette from his arms and stepped back from him. Erik did his best to remain passive, but he could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Mi have her money. You held her. We done," Yani said.

Eyes watched them all.

Chez turned to Erik.

"This is my daughter. Not yours. You playin' house wit mi Fam—"

"Nah, you were playing house. I suggest—"

"Not here, not here…" Twyla hissed, her eyes taking in the stares.

"You wrong for this, Yani. Hear?" Chez said.

Yani broke eye contact with him and her eyes found Erik's.

"I want to see my daughter more than once a week. I have a right to have her with me in mi own house. I'll take you to court—"

"Didn't you hear me say not here?" Twyla said stepping closer to Chez.

"Take me to court then—"

"I've been keeping up with my payments—"

"Yo, let's go talk over here…" Kendall said.

Kendall threw an arm around Chez and guided him away from Yani. Twyla followed behind them.

"You okay?" Erik asked.

"Yeah. He'll take me to court."

"I don't trust him."

"I don't either."

"Don't worry about court."

"He did that to shame me. Just like them…trying to say I'm pregnant."

"He's gone don't think about him."

"Yani. Is everything okay?"

Paula watched her daughter and held her hands out for Sydette. Yani handed her over.

"Everything's fine Mommy."

Paula cut her eyes at Erik and walked away with the baby. Yani stuck Chez's envelope in her purse and sat back down. He sat down next to her and held her hand. His eyes scanned the boardwalk. Chez was gone. Twyla and Kendall spoke to one another near the grill.

"Those two always have your back," Erik said.

"My faves. They do look out for me. Shit. I wish Chez would just go away. He does this right when you are leaving."

"You are safe at the compound. You can have Leona come stay with you if you want."

"Can we just go home now?"

Erik stood up and held her hand.

###

Joburg was cold.

The driver Klaue sent to pick Erik up at the airport was tight-lipped with pale leathery skin. After a forty-minute drive, Erik switched cars with another driver who dropped him off at a busy bar in the main part of the city. He waited thirty minutes and much to his displeasure, Huntsman arrived and led him to another non-descript car where they drove to a private ranch surrounded by intense security.

Huntsman dropped him off with his large duffle bag and drove off. Erik was frisked and his duffle scanned before he was escorted inside on an electric golf cart. Left in front of the main door, Erik waited for entrance.

"Killmonger!"

Klaue hugged him and grabbed his duffle bag.

"Let's not waste time. Give it to me!" The man said.

Klaue's breath was foul with liquor and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Maybe you should wait until you are sober," Erik suggested.

"I'm fine, mate."

Erik dug inside his bag and pulled out a large figurine. He broke it on the floor and pulled out Klaue's prosthetic. Klaue yanked it out of his hand and admired it.

"Nice," he said.

Pulling off the arm he was using, Klaue put on the new one. Erik showed him how to activate it. Klaue stepped in front of a large round mirror that hung above the roaring fireplace he had going. A flash of blue shot out and the large mirror shattered and fell in pieces in front of the fire.

"Excellent! I feel like blowing more shit up! Let's go outside!" Klaue shouted.

"What the hell is going on? Killmonger!"

Erik turned toward the stairs.

Linda walked down and when she saw his face, a huge smile came across hers.

"Hello stranger," she said.

Klaue ran out of the front door.

"What happened to the mirror?"

Erik pointed to the front door.

Sultry in her sweater and tight pants, Linda sauntered over to him.

"How long are you here for?"

"Not long."

Her eyes were coy.